#i can watch the early seasons of this show. I can even have a hearty chuckle

[hecksupremechips]

Not to be cynical but damn the way friends the tv show friends tries to convince me that ross and rachel are the perfect couple because they just kinda declared it and im supposed to just buy this. Like I’m sorry but no these two characters are so bland they have next to no personality they have never done anything interesting in their relationship that would make me care no unique qualities that compliment each other there is simply nothing there and also. Why does ross have such a big head in comparison to rachel what the fuck is up with that why are the women in this show so small in comparison to men this simply isn’t right

[thefrontofmymind]

No More Hiding; Request (Joseph Quinn x costar!Reader)

REQUEST: Can you make a joe quinn x reader where at the st4 premiere the reader is sweet with the kids like millies sister and she dsnces with her and also with the kids of the cast even when if yhey are grown upd now and he loves you even more snd wants to have kids so at home he talks about kids and the reader always wanted them so they try for months and when they are promotijg st4 with jamie the interviewer notices the belly and thdy announce it? :) - @kellysimagines

a/n: so this changed,,, a lot? when i was writing it,,, sorry idk how that happened but i had an idea and ran with it, hope that's all good! any feedback is welcome, as always. kisses!

SYNOPSIS: Joe and costar!Reader are having a baby, but it's still quite early. Luckily the one, the only, Jamie Campbell Bower is a great secret-keeper

WARNINGS: pregnant reader, the start of a panic attack, that's basically it

It was a very exciting night, the world premiere of Stranger Things 4. Everyone in the cast was together on the red carpet–and had been for about an hour now–doing interviews and posing for photos–and you were beginning to get very tired. Though you had a good reason–you were about twelve weeks pregnant, and it takes a lot out of a person to have to grow a whole new body inside of them.

You stood next to your partner, Joe, with Charlie on the other side of you as you all posed for a big group photo. You tried not to let your fatigue and nausea show on your face, but Joe could tell, having seen the look on your face quite frequently for the last couple months.

“You alright?” he whispered, sneaking a glance at you.

“Yeah, just feel like I’m going to be sick,” you whispered back to him. You hadn’t told anyone apart from your close family yet, you wanted to wait as long as you could–you always preferred privacy in your relationship, and this pregnancy wasn’t any exception.

Joe intertwined his fingers in yours, hidden from the view of the cameras. “I think we’re almost done, love.”

And you were; within minutes, all the photographers crowded in front of you were satisfied with their shots, and you were being directed inside the reception hall that the screening of the first two episodes would take place in. There were drinks and nibbly bits inside while you waited, though you had a feeling that if anything went into your stomach it would just come right back up again, and of course, you couldn’t have a drink–Joe was also not drinking out of solidarity, knowing you already missed having your vodka sodas only a third of the way through your pregnancy.

Everyone still mingled before taking their seats, though you and Joe mostly kept to yourselves in a corner, until Jamie sauntered over to you, a big smile across his face. The three of you grew quite close over the many months making the season–Joe and Jamie bonded very quickly, and with you and Joe together, you were brought along with it all.

“And how are these lovebirds going?” he asked, settling at the cocktail table you were standing at. He looked at the tabletop with a furrow in his brow. “Not drinking tonight, guys? Not like the both of you!”

You let out a nervous laugh, as Joe put a hand on your back, feeling your anxiety as well. During the handful of times the three of you went out for dinner, you’d been known to love a good drink or two or five, so it was definitely an adjustment having to go cold-turkey, and apparently it was noticeable.

You didn’t know what to say for a second, there was an awkward silence between the three of you. You looked to Joe, who was looking right back at you. You had a moment of silent communication, Jamie just watching your non-verbal conversation.

“I’m-I’m,” you stuttered. “I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby!” 

Immediately Jamie lunged forward to engulf you in a hug. “Congrats?” he asked, just to be sure, to which you and Joe both nodded enthusiastically. “Congrats! Oh my god!”

He parted from you and gave Joe a hug too, complete with a couple hearty pats on the back, the ‘lad side’ of both of them coming out.

“It’s still pretty early so we’re not really telling many people yet…” Joe told him, a sense of urgency in his voice.

“No worries, mum’s the word-literally, I suppose!” Jamie joked. “Oh, I’m so excited for you two! Are you still coming to Brazil?”

Netflix was sending the three of you to Sao Paulo for a few days in the coming weeks to do some interviews over there–the higher-ups figured it was a good decision when they found out just how much time you’d all been spending together.

“Of course!” you almost yelled over the chatter of the rest of the room. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, might even have a bump by then!”

Without a moment’s notice, you were all called to your seats to continue the rest of your night. You were glad to be sitting, since your feet had begun to swell–one of the joys you knew was just beginning.

And it was, by the time you and Joe were sat in business class on a flight from London to Sao Paulo, you swore your feet and hands were almost double the size they were just the week beforehand, however you’d finally gotten out of the ‘exhausted and nauseous all the time’ phase, and were in the ‘strong hair and nails and finally have that pregnancy glow everyone goes on about’ phase.

You tried to recline your seat as much as you could to get some rest–much more than you would’ve been able to in economy class–but you were still uncomfortable. The baby had begun to move in the past few weeks, and as much as it gave you butterflies every time you felt movement in your abdomen, it was beginning to get old when you just wanted some rest for Pete’s sake!

Joe was in the seat next to your’s, headphones on, watching some movie he’d downloaded for the flight, but you could see his gaze fall to your bump–which was now getting rather impossible to hide–every few minutes. You signalled to him to take off his headphones, which he did, swivelling slightly in his seat to face you as best he could, with a questioning look on his face.

“I can’t sleep,” you said in a hushed tone, to not disturb the rest of the plane. “Babe keeps moving and I can’t get comfortable.”

Joe grabbed your hand with one of his, placing his other hand on your bump–slowly rubbing small circles. He shuffled down a little so his face was level with your stomach.

“Hey kid, you have to let your mum sleep, alright?” he whispered, making you giggle. He looked back up at you. “How about when we get to the hotel, I run you a bath and make it all relaxing and me and Jamie will go out and meet fans so they don’t bother you, hmm?”

He always knew what you needed–and he was being extra attentive during your pregnancy, you don’t think in the past four months you’d know about your pregnancy, you’d opened a car door for yourself, or pulled out your own chair, or carried any heavy bags. He was simply being the perfect future dad, and it made you so excited to see what he would be like when the baby was born.

The rest of your flight didn’t go great–you didn’t manage to get a wink of rest during the entire eleven and a half hours you were in the air–but Joe kept to his promise and after an hour of customs and immigration, then travelling to your hotel and checking in, he’d drawn you a warm bubble bath, dimmed the lights, and let you relax.

“Jamie’s just gotten here so I’m going downstairs,” Joe said to you, reading a text on his phone. “Are you gonna be alright by yourself?”

“Yes, Joe,” you answered, floating in what felt like a rose-scented cocoon. “I’m pregnant, not three years old.”

Joe just laughed, giving you a quick peck, before leaving with his phone, wallet, and one of the room keys. You didn’t do much for the rest of the afternoon, though you did manage to finally get a quick nap in. You weren’t sure how long you were asleep for, but when you woke, Joe was back and you noticed the sun was beginning to set, so it had been a couple hours, at least.

“Hi, darling,” Joe said in a soft voice. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you groaned as you stretched under the covers. “Still a bit tired but better. How’s Jamie?”

“He’s good…good,” Joe was still wearing the jeans and white button-up he’d changed into when you’d finally gotten to the hotel room. “He wanted to go out for dinner, but I said I’d leave it up to you, see how you’re feeling. We were just thinking the restaurant in the lobby if you’re feeling alright?”

You hadn’t eaten since you were on the plane, and even then that could barely count as a meal–you did feel a sort of ache in your stomach, and you figured you could go out.

“That sounds good, just give me like twenty minutes to get ready…” You got out from under the covers of the bed, stretching again once you were standing, before going to your suitcase which laid on the floor, to look for an outfit.

“I’ll let him know to meet us in twenty in the lobby,” Joe said with a smile.

You quickly got dressed–just onto something comfortable that would keep you cool enough in the humidity–before you made your way down the hotel lobby with Joe, hands swinging in between you as you walked. It wasn’t hard to spot Jamie standing out near the doors of the ‘restaurant front’–with how tall and lanky he was, not to mention the fact that he was dressed head-to-toe in all black–a very ‘him’ look.

He noticed you and Joe as you slowly made your way over to him, meeting you halfway to engulf you in a big, bear hug.

“Hello, dear!” he exclaimed with a big smile, mid-hug, before pulling away. “Look at you! You’re practically glowing!”

“‘ts good to see you too!” you said, feeling a warmth creeping up your neck at the compliment–Jamie was always full of them, and he never hesitated to let someone know when they looked great. “‘ve even got a bump now!”

You placed an arm underneath the small bump on your abdomen to highlight it, to which Jamie gasped before placing a hand on you–but not after looking to you with a questioning look–asking if he could touch you.

“You two are gonna be parents, my goodness!” Jamie laughed, as you and Joe did too.

“Shall we then?” Joe asked, pointing to the restaurant with his one free hand–your’s still holding his other one in a vice-like grip, as usual.

The rest of the night was great–filled with good food and lots of laughs, before your crashed at the end of the night in the fluffy bed you’d be calling your’s for the next few days, in the arms of the man that you loved the most in the entire world.

It was an early start the next morning, being whisked away in the wee hours of the morning to get hair and makeup done, as well as to organise an outfit for your day chocked full of interviews with Joe and Jamie. The stylist Netflix had sent to Brazil with you–Sarah–had a room with a rack full of different options for you to choose from, but you were still nervous about the whole ordeal.

You’d let it slip to her that you’d need some room in the belly region, and she seemed to understand at the time, but now as you looked at the different outfits, all of them looked tight-fitting and it unnerved you that you’d have to soon share a very private part of your life with the world, seemingly against your will.

It was all getting too much, you couldn’t breath, and the room was starting to spin. As quick as you could, you stepped out into the hallway outside, phone in hand and already dialling Joe’s number, even though he was in the same building as you, getting ready in a room just down the hall.

“Love? What’s up?” he asked as he answered the phone, a level of concern in his voice that you’d never heard before.

“I’m just-” there was a lump in your throat that you had to struggle against, that you didn’t know was there at first, you voice came out in a hushed whisper. “I’m not sure I’m ready to tell everyone about the baby, it’s too nerve wracking.”

“Oh, darling…” Joe started as he heard the beginnings of sobs waver in your voice. “We don’t have to yet if you don’t want to, but I think we’re going to have to eventually right? And we’re in Brazil of all places! How fun is that party tonight going to be if we don’t have to keep this big secret, hey?”

You thought for a moment, letting out a sigh. He was right–the story alone of telling the world about the family you were making in Brazil would be pretty cool….

“No more hiding,” was all you said to him.

“There we go!” he jokingly cheered, making you laugh and easing your worries. “I’m just about ready so can I come see you?”

“Yeah, I still need to get dressed, but I guess you could come hang out with us…” you answered, absentmindedly rubbing your bump–a habit you’d only noticed you’d picked up in the past week or so.

Joe didn’t even answer you, just hung up the phone and all but sprinted down the short hallway to where you were standing. He also didn’t say hello, just pulled you to him, arms over your shoulders as he placed a kiss against your cheek–that cheeky grin of his on full display.

In a matter of about thirty minutes, you’d gotten ready, and yourself and Joe were sat in your seats, waiting for Jamie ‘the drama queen’ to finish getting ready so he could join you. You didn’t have to wait long, you amused yourself by chatting with your boyfriend.

“I think the babe’s a girl…” he said, almost out of the blue, looking at you with wide eyes and an equally wide grin.

“You think?” you questioned. “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know… I just get a vibe!” Joe laughed. “But I’d be happy with a boy! Just want a baby that’s happy and healthy…”

You hadn’t thought too much about it yet, whether you were carrying a boy or a girl–it was just one and ultrasounds made sure of that, and all your current tests came back showing they baby was healthy and growing exactly as they should be, which is all that concerned you for the moment.

“Hello, hello?” you heard a voice call out–Jamie–as he entered the room, wearing sunglasses with a hot coffee in hand. “Sorry, am I late?”

You quickly jumped out of your seat, as did Joe, to give Jamie a hug.

“Showing off the bambino today, huh?” Jamie asked as he took a look at your outfit. “Come on, give us a twirl, you two!”

You and Joe both jokingly spun around to show off your outfits to Jamie, the three of you laughing–it was good, to jake around after a stressful morning, the two Brits made you feel at ease in yourself.

“We’ve-uh-we’ve decided we’re going to start telling people about the babe,” Joe said, placing a hand around your back in on your opposite hip.

Jamie excitedly told mused congratulations–again to the both of you–giving you both a big hug each, before the three of you settled in your seats, about to start a big, new part of your life.

[softquietsteadylove]

Hello! I wanted to ask if you can write Thenas and Gils first kiss in the boxer and dancer au! They are so cute!

She was magnificent, as always. Gil treasured the time he got to spend watching her dance, even from across the hall. He was hungry for it, having started ending class earlier and earlier, little by little. If anyone had noticed, no one felt like calling him out on it.

Just as well, Gil figured. He wasn't totally ready to admit that it was so he could watch the beautiful dance teacher across the hall.

Her class had already been dismissed, and given how she was dancing alone, he assumed that even Sersi had already left. Thena always took a little extra time to herself after her classes were done to practice by herself.

And sometimes, he would feel brave enough to 'interrupt'.

"Excuse me," he grinned as he pushed the door open gently. "I was looking for a cute ballerina with blonde hair?"

"Gil," she sounded like she was admonishing him, but he was rewarded with a very fond eye-roll and a stunning smile.

"Hey," he greeted with a smile as she stopped in the middle of her routine to walk over to him. She had the same grace as always, even setting her feet down from toe to heel. He guessed it must be quite a habit for her to walk like that. "How were classes today?"

"Nice and simple," she smiled, happy to sway in front of him while her music played in the background. "Although it's quite hard to wrangle the morning class when you interrupt."

"Sorry," he chuckled, recalling quite well the ruckus he'd caused.

The girls had all excitedly informed Miss Thena that her 'boyfriend' had arrived. The seasoned teacher had done her best to ignore her class' teasing with her dignity in tact.

Gil thought it was cute that she got flustered when her students called him that.

"You seemed like you wanted that coffee, though," he pointed out, and he knew damn well he was right about it.

Thena pursed her lips at him, unwilling to hand his victory to him on a silver platter. "For all you knew, I'd already had plenty--or had brought my own with me!"

"I seem to recall you saying that no amount of coffee in the world was enough for your first class of the day," he crossed his arms, smirking at her. Thena's eyes drifted over them just for a second before snapping back up to his face.

"Can you at least be earlier with it?--before we're in the middle of stretches?"

"Fine, I'll be nice and early with it next time," he promised.

They both knew that he had no such intention, probably planning to make an even bigger show of bringing her coffee next time.

"It's hard enough to get the young goslings in line," Thena sighed, unfolding her own arms to put her hands on her hips. The tension and stiffness was always slow to drain from her form at the end of the day. "You giving them something to giggle over doesn't help."

"Y'know, I looked it up, and young swans are called cygnets," he shrugged, unfolding his arms and reaching out to pull her closer in one - hopefully - smooth move.

"They start as goslings," Thena said firmly, even as she let him pull her close enough for his musk to intermingle with the scent of her perfume. Why did she wear perfume to class just to get all sweaty? "When they start to show some real promise, then they will become cygnets."

Gil chuckled, "your little ducklings?"

"I just told you they're goslings."

Gil let out a hearty laugh, pulling Thena into it with him. He did think it was funny, but he broke from the laughter first, tentatively walking his fingers up her back until he felt the edge of her leotard. He tapped the bare skin there, pale and silken. "Are we still on for friday?"

Thena just nodded, her smile stretching out as he rubbed small circles around her shoulder blades. She looked kind of delicate, but the muscles were strong, almost wiry with so little fat around them to soften the angles of the bone.

"Can't wait," he beamed back at her.

Thena's eyes drifted a little again, although Gil wasn't entirely sure where. But then she was reigning in her smile and taking a slight step back. Just enough that he wasn't really holding her anymore.

He pouted.

"Sorry," she offered quietly, pulling her formality around her again as if folding wings around herself protectively. "I should finish this routine."

"That's okay," he smiled, letting her hand slip out of his and drifting towards the door. "I'll see you friday?"

"Looking forward to it," she promised him, just as honestly and concisely as he had.

Gil paused at the door handle. He turned back, catching her eye with a determined set of his jaw. "Oh, one more thing?"

"Hm?" she blinked, genuinely waiting for him to bring up something he forgot or something about their date.

Gil strode over to her, dropping his bag on the floor with intention. He wrapped an arm around her, tilting his head down to kiss her. He didn't press further, waiting for her response to the simple but purposeful touch of his lips to hers.

She accepted.

Gil deepened the kiss, moving his lips against hers as her hands moved over his arms until her palms could press against his biceps. He knew he'd seen her looking, earlier.

Thena's eyes fluttered as Gil pulled away, leaving her with only the faintest tease of his tongue against her lips.

Gil could feel the blush in his cheeks, but he took some comfort in the bright red flushing Thena's even paler skin. He tucked back a few hairs that had escaped her tight up-do.

"Gil-"

"Y'know," he chuckled, unable to contain his smile after a kiss like that. "I can't remember what I was going to say."

Thena sputtered, her lips moving with no proper thoughts coming out.

"Anyway," he shrugged, going back for his bag as if he really had forgotten something. "See you friday?"

"Gil!"

"Looking forward to it!"

[graykageyama]

dream come true.

synopsis: when you fall in love, you fall in love deep. they become your world, while you became theirs. they’re your dream, and you are theirs. but all it takes is a change of heart to change the courses of your dreams, and maybe only one dream can come true. 

pairing: Suna x reader

genre: angst

word count: 3k +

Part 2: but you were my dream, too

“And then Atsumu never saw it coming. So he was running from his fangirls right? He ran like he was running away from an apocalypse. As stupid as he is, he never saw it coming. He ran straight to the gym and when he opened the door, he triggered the trap. Dude, got the whole floor wet.” Suna laughed hard as he tells you about his day - well trying as he can barely get the words out.

You glance towards his direction and you just cannot believe that this man is your boyfriend - he looks so ethereal under the glow of the street lamps lighting your way home before the dusk completely envelops both of you. With his gym bag slung over his shoulder and his other hand warming yours, his head tilted back as he tried to catch his breath, this was another rare moment where Suna -your Suna Rintarou- is completely carefree, defenseless and well, just him. His piercing, slanted eyes which usually intimidates most people, are now closed. Even with his awkward hair style still damp from practice, and hunched-over posture, you still think of him as your Mr. Perfect.

You’ve been  together since the start of your third year in high school, and honestly, this is so far your best year. Being friends with him and the twins since first year of highschool, you can’t help but to just fall for him. Despite his usually cold persona, he is always so sweet to you. He makes sure to walk you home everyday, since he always asks you to watch him at practice. It’s amazing really, how he can transform to this scary, intimidating middle blocker into an adorable fox always seeking for your affections. He loves it when you hand his towel, or maybe dry his hair with your gentle touches. You know he secretly loves how you cheer for him even in practice games. You also know to yourself that you would want to do these things for him even in the far future. Even if it would mean you would have to sacrifice your dreams to become Suna’s perfect wife, you know that you’re going to stay with him for the rest of your life. To become Suna’s number one fangirl is now your dream.

“Y/N?” Suna calls out, interrupting your thoughts. “Watch this. Ain’t he stupid?”He laughs again as he shows you the video clip of Atsumu being drenched with water, and his face flat on the floor. “Yeah, he is. He falls for it every time. Smart athlete on the court, but in reality, he’s pretty stupid. Kita-san and the other alumni must have had a hard time in handling you three. ”  You laugh along at his story. “He misses Kita-san though, the dude cries when he remembers how Kita-san took care of him when he got sick.”

“Well, Tsumu can be a baby sometimes, that’s why we love him” He faintly slows down his pace as he asks, “Come to think of it Y/N, I’ve never seen you cry. I mean, I wouldn’t want to make you cry or anything, but even when we were still friends, you never cried.”

Pinching his side, you giggle “I cry too, dumbass. I’m human too.I don’t know though, I just don’t cry easily I guess.” You shrug. “What about you? I rarely see you in tears, too.” You tease as you poke your tongue out. He smirks as he looks over at you,”I don’t easily get affected by my emotions and honestly I don’t need too, sweetcheeks. There’s no reason too. I always win.” He lets out another hearty laugh, as you think. That’s true. No one can really beat and outwit Suna. Maybe only the french fry from Karasuno, but I guess no one can easily faze him.  

Suna lets go of your hand as you both stopped in front of your house. He clasps your hands together with his one hand as he places the other on the top of your head, “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Rest well, Miss I-don’t-easily-cry.” Placing a tender kiss on your forehead, you shut your eyes. This had been your routine with your boyfriend ever since you got together, but you would never wish for anything else to replace these moments.

---

As you both graduated from Inarizaki, you decide to follow your dream - your Suna - and support him as he aspires to be a professional Volleyball player. You go to a University near where he is training so that it would be more convenient for him to fetch you. Life goes by quickly. Your boyfriend trains hard day and night and hones his skills and game sense. You study a business course to help you land a good job, a job that can still be pretty flexible to work with according to Suna’s. You rarely see your boyfriend nowadays, but no doubts cross your mind as you are assured that you were Suna’s one and only, his love of his life. Whenever you think otherwise, you try to remember these evidence of his love and assurance.

----

You closed the door as you said your goodbyes to your mom. It pains you to see her get cheated on by your dad, but you couldn’t do anything about it. You sat on the couch and hugged your knees together. Forcing your eyes shut to keep you from crying and sharing her pain, but alas - your tears betrayed you as it streamed down your face.

How can the guy you loved for so many years, easily replace you?

Suna saw your broken state as he gave you a warm hug. He didn’t say anything, but you’re comforted by his silence and the small circles he rubbed on your back. You looked up at his eyes and cried, “It’s so scary, Rin. How one day you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend for so many years, but then they suddenly act like you are just trash - disposable, replaceable, and no longer wanted. They were so perfect in my eyes, you know? But why did he cheat on her? He just gave up in the middle of solving their problem. Why? I’m scared, Rin. Will that happen to us?”

Suna tilted your head to maintain the eye contact you had initiated. With his soft voice, he said “No matter what happens, I will never hurt you, leave you, and will never make you cry intentionally.” He wiped away your tears, then placed his hand on top of your head. Kissing your temple softly, he assured you. “I will never go away, no matter how rough it may become. Every single day for the rest of my life, I will be by your side.”

---

You both try to make your relationship work, spending all of your free time together. He is still the Suna you loved. Always affectionate to you alone, and always caring about you.

Things are going great to the both of you. You are now in your last months in university, and Suna gets scouted to play for the EJP Raijins, a V. League Division 1 team. You are so proud of your boyfriend. He is finally reaching his dreams, and your dream of seeing him so successful is also coming true. You understand how he puts more effort in his training, with him usually coming home to dim lights. But you try your hardest as his girlfriend to warm up the dinner you have prepared for him earlier. With only the kitchen lights lit, you always wait for your boyfriend to come home, to greet him with a kiss even if it is past 11pm. This is just the life of a professional athlete, and you, as his partner, should adopt this life too.

“Y/N baby, no need to wait for me. I’m not coming home tonight. Coach offered to let me sleep at his place since we’re just really fatigued from the hard training we had today.”

This slowly becomes a habit, and you are getting frustrated over the lack of attention you’ve been receiving. You understand this was his job, and he needs to work hard with the season coming up soon. But does he have to be away for almost every day of the week? You rarely get to see him now, with most encounters only at night. He’d usually go home at 1 am, and when you’re lucky, you get to feel your lover’s intimate touches again. But before dawn cracks up, he's out on his training again, and who knows when he’s coming home.

“Hey, Rinnie. I miss you so much babe, and I know you’ve been training really hard, but I’d like to spend some time with you.” You approached your boyfriend as you saw him packing his things up for training. “Maybe I could go by your gym and visit you! I could make some packed lunches for you and your teammates too, and maybe I can finally meet them.”

“I’ll try Y/N, I can’t say much now with our new training schedule.” He utters out rather coldly, while shoving his equipment down his gym bag.

“Ohhh okay. But are you able to come home early on Wednesday? Just for one night, pretty please? You’re rarely home these days and I--”

“Well, I just can’t laze around right? I’d have to work hard in order to feed the both of us. Can you stop being clingy, and act like a more understanding girlfriend. It’s getting pathetic how you’re acting like I’m not doing this for the both of us.” He zipped up his bag and slings it over his shoulder. He went up to your frozen state, and gave a light kiss to your temple. “Look, I don’t really want to fight. I’m sorry. But please be an understanding girlfriend for me, and stop being extra clingy.” He walked up to the door, and left - leaving you to blame yourself for being another burden to your partner. Although he said some hurtful things, he says he’s sorry right?

---

You love routines, and it makes you feel your life has a structure it has to follow. But this new routine was not one you would wish to have, to be honest, you did not know when did your old routines fall out. Suna’s rarely home, if he used to go home once a week, now, he only goes home to pick some of his clothes, makes love to you if you ask him to, and leaves the next day. His texts are getting drier each day, even taking hours to reply to yours. You’re scared. Even his words don’t seem to assure you now, he feels so far away. He’s slipping through your fingers, and you know you need to do something to keep your relationship together.

“Rin love, can you go home tonight? I just really miss you terribly, and honestly, I’ve been craving your touch for so long. Come home tonight, love.” (Sent, 2:51 PM)

“Ok.” (Received, 4:30 PM)

You’re ecstatic. You’re finally going to spend time with your boyfriend after such a long time. You prepare his favorite dinner, and you choose to wear his favorite nightgown for you. As you hear his steps outside the apartment, you greet him with your sweetest smile.

“Hi, Rinnie. I’m glad you’re home” You give him a tight hug, as you offer to take his gym bag.

“Let’s get this over with, Y/N. Go now to the room, I’ll just wash up.” He mutters as he steps out of his shoes. You stand frozen, as you suppress the tears forming in your eyes. “I made dinner, Rinnie. Your favorite, actually. Come eat with me? ” You try to invite him again, holding his hands as you try to lead him to the kitchen.

“Ï’m a busy man, Y/N. What more can you ask from me? You said you wanted my touches and love, right? That’s why I’m here. I need to go back to the dorms immediately, and honestly I just want to have it over with.”

“Rin,” you called out. “Can you at least spare me some time and attention that  you have been refusing to give me over these past months? All I’m asking is to spend time with you. I’m even trying my best to make time for you. Why are you like this?”

The eyes. The eyes you never had thought would frighten you as much as it did to the other players in the court, pins you down. Suna glares as he seethes through his teeth, “Make time for me? You don’t even have a job yet after graduating a few months ago. You stay here, enjoying your life as I worked hard to keep this up. You are demanding too much from me, Y/N. And now you are asking me for my share in this relationship? Well aren’t you one selfish woman.”

You cower away from his gaze, but you still try to express your frustrations. “I never asked for an expensive life. I just wished to be with you, Rin! To support you with your dreams.” You lift your head to meet his gaze.  “I’ll always try to take care of you, Rin. You are my dream. Seeing you pursue yours, makes me feel as if I’m accomplishing my dream too. But all I’m asking is for you to still treat me as your favorite girl, your partner, and I can give back ten times more than what you can give me, just please give me the small attention and love I have been craving for.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint you Y/N, but you’re the least of my priorities now. And aren’t you pathetic? Sacrificing your dream to support mine? You’re just lazy to pursue yours, and you’re just leeching off of me. I’m so disappointed in you, Y/N. You’re getting more pathetic each day.”

“I wanted to go and look for a job, but how could I when I don't know how you are lately? How is our relationship lately? It’s like it’s hanging by the thread now, Rinnie.”

“Well, just cut the damn thread, then!” He forcefully slams the counter as his eyes snap backs to yours. “Ï can’t deal with this right now. If you keep on acting up Y/N, just stop. Have some pity over yourself.” Suna picks up his things, and leaves. Shutting the door as hard as he could, the loud bang conceals the sound of your shattered heart.

---

Weeks go by slowly as you patiently wait for your boyfriend’s return. He wouldn’t leave me right? He promised .He promised.. Scrolling up to your text messages, you reviewed the texts you’ve sent him.

“Hey Rinnie, I’m sorry for the things I’ve said. I hope you’re taking care of yourself, babe.” (Sent. April 13, 8:53 AM.)

“Hey baby! Please don't skip your meals, and drink lots of water too! Drink your water, bitch!” (Sent. April 14, 10:14 AM.) You slightly smiled as you reminisced how both of you loved to tell that to each other after hearing it from a famous personality, finding it amusing and adding it to your routine.  

“Call me whenever your free, okay? Don’t forget to rest in between, Rinnie. I miss you.” (Sent. April 14, 8:42 PM.)

The text messages go on for two weeks, still with no replies from your Rinnie. As you are cleaning the apartment, you hear the awaited notification tone ring. You immediately grabbed your phone and checked out the notification. But it was not from Rin, it was from your friend from university calling you up.

“Hey, Y/N-san. Congratulations to Suna and his team for winning the pre-seasonal tournament. It’s all over the news right now.” Akaashi exclaimed over the phone. Your heart leaps upon hearing your boyfriend’s name. Rushing over to see the news for yourself, your heart flutters as you see your perfect man - in his wet jersey while holding the medal wrapped around his neck as the reporter angled the microphone in front of him. Your perfect man responds casually and smug, as usual.

I’m so proud of you baby. Always had, and always will. I knew you could do it, Rin.

But your thoughts are interrupted as the reporter asks, “Is there any special someone you would want to celebrate this victory with, Mr. Suna?”

Suna looks over at the camera and he smiles bright. Brighter than the ones you’ve seen when you were with him during these past months. “Yeah, actually I do.” He replies as he smiles back at the reporter. “She’s just the best and I’ve been training really hard for her, you know? Gotta make my baby proud.”

The spark of hope ignites within your heart upon hearing those words. Even when doubts clouded your mind, you still never fail to have faith in him. You always believe that everything will be perfectly fine, and your Rin will always stay by your side. He said he’ll never go away, and you know that you’re here to stay.  “I will never go away, no matter how rough it may become. Every single day for the rest of my life, I will be by your side.”

But what you see next finally wakes you up from your own self-deception. Suna Rintarou. Your Rin. Has his arms around another girl as he smiles back again to the reporter. “She’s the girl I’m talking about.” As if it wasn’t enough, Suna placed his hand on top of her head and placed a tender kiss on her temple.

I’m supposed to be that girl, that should have been me.  I should be the one greeting you back from your training. I should be the one with you as you receive your recognition. That should be me. That used to be me.

Even though it hurts, you stare at the couple in front of you and see how Rin was just casually cool and okay, as though he wasn’t the cause of your heart breaking.

All this time. While you have been fixing your own shattered heart, someone else is mending his - no, there was nothing to fix as it has been replaced. It’s so unfair, how can you be so fine? All the fights we’ve gone through, I even deceived myself that I was being a burden to you. Convincing myself to no longer bother you as it may faze you and your performance, too. It takes so much for me to just go through the day, and live for you, for us. But I guess you’re my dream, right? You win again, Rin. You always did.

Dreams do come true, they said. But it seems only your dream came true. And it’s wonderful to see you reaching your dreams, love. Even if it meant that my dream won’t come true.

A/N: HNGHHH, I am sorry for Y/N becoming so heads over heels over him, which is why she’s hurting so much!! But reality’s a bitch, there really are people who be martyrs for love :<  Would love to hear you thoughts uwu reblogs, likes, comments, asks and messages are very much appreciated! There will be a part 2!! Will try to post within this week, after doing my requirements T.T .  

Message me or send an ask if you want to be tagged for the update! <3

~juju 

[seagreen-meets-grey]

When Lightning Strikes Ch. 19

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 20]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

_______________

Hiccup first brought it up on a sunny afternoon in mid-July, one year after that fateful rainy Sunday.

It was a Friday and Astrid’s parents had invited them over for a barbecue. They were both still at work, but Astrid and Hiccup were already at the house and had prepared the food. There was a green salad waiting in the kitchen, the meat was seasoned on a covered plate in the fridge, herb bread was ready to be gratinated in the oven and drinks were cooling in the minibar.

While rifling through the closet for napkins, Astrid had found an old bag of water balloons and, unbeknownst to Hiccup, had filled them in the sink before she’d attacked him in the garden. He’d just arranged the garden furniture and wiped the table with a damp cloth when something cold and wet had exploded all over his back, followed by the hearty laugh of his girlfriend.

“Hey, that’s not fair, I’m unarmed!”

She rolled a handful of balloons over the table and he had to be careful to catch all of them before they fell to the ground and burst all over his feet. He made a show of fumbling with his ammo, catching her off-guard when he suddenly hurled one right at her. It exploded on her chest and while she was momentarily distracted, he escaped from her immediate attack zone.

In no time, they were out of ammunition, with large water stains all over their clothes. Balloon shreds were scattered all over the lawn, some had hit the house wall and there was a wet imprint of a water explosion on one of the living room windows.

But Astrid was in no way done with their water fight, despite her dripping hair and wet left butt cheek. From the garage, she produced two dusty Nerf Blasters, and the battle carried on. The chairs and table were converted into shields and hiding spots, the water faucet was a safe zone to fill up on ammo, and the hammock was off-limits.

After Hiccup accidentally shot a blast in her face, she dropped her gun and wiped at her eyes. He rushed over. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

As soon as he was right in front of her, she made a grab for his Blaster, picked up her own in lightning speed, and pointed both of them at him. “Gotcha. I win.”

“Oh, you!” He tackled her and when they stumbled a few steps backwards, he steered them right into the hammock. Swinging back and forth from the momentum, he pinned her down and started tickling her sides. She writhed underneath him, tried to kick him, but it wasn’t that easy in a hammock. Tears from laughter were gathering in her eyes until, finally, she managed to free a hand and attempted to push him out of the hammock. “Okay, okay,” he relented and rolled off of her.

A light breeze was rustling through the leaves of the apple and plum trees above. Catching their breaths, they made themselves comfortable, gazing at the bright blue sky through a sea of green. The breeze was brushing through their wet clothes, providing a nice change to the summer heat.

He moved his head to the side, watching the game of cat and mouse that sunlight and shade were playing on her face. When the hammock came to a stop, she stuck one leg out to lightly kick at the ground. “Hey,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hm?”

“Do you ever want to get married again?” Her eyes widened slightly as she looked back at him. “Just a general question,” he quickly added. “I’m- I’m not proposing.”

“Yeah, I know. I just…” She wrinkled her forehead, focusing back on the ceiling of leaves. “I’m not sure. I once thought getting married was the right idea and now I’m divorced.” She glanced back at him. “I’m not saying things aren’t different this time. But I don’t know if I want to go through that again.”

For a while, he was quiet, fiddling with a loose thread on her top. He understood what she meant. Maybe it had been a bit too early to ask, anyway, even as a general question. It had only been a little over a year. That didn’t mean his stomach didn’t make a traitorous drop, though.

“That’s okay.” He reached out and played with a strand of her hair, twirling it between his fingers. “As long as I get to be with you, labels don’t matter, anyway.”

“Good.” She kissed him. “Because that’s all I need.” Then she produced a water balloon out of nowhere, probably a stray one that had rolled off earlier, and held it in a threatening way over his head. “Get merked, Hiccup!” He had just enough time to jump out of the hammock before the bomb hit and doused him. The game was back on.

Not much later, a car pulled into the driveway and soon enough, Frederick Hofferson stepped onto the patio. Astrid immediately hid behind him, using him as a human shield. Hiccup just about managed to hold back his throw. The last thing he wanted to do was shoot his girlfriend’s father with a large water gun. Especially since he felt like the man was still not quite used to him, still regarding him as the guy that ended her daughter’s marriage.

“I’m not a part of this!” Frederick shouted and ducked out of the way. While Hiccup was still mindful of the splash area of his projectiles, Astrid had no such reservations. She took her Nerf Blaster apart, dashed over and emptied the small water tank over his head. It seemed the winner was obvious this time, but he would get his revenge soon enough.

The warm weather had dried most of his clothes by the time the first steaks were ready. Frederick offered him to trade places so Hiccup could take over with the meat, but he declined. It was obvious the man was in his element. Astrid leaned over and whispered, “I think he’s trying to bond with you. He’s looking for shared interests.”

“Really?” he whispered back. “That’s great, but I’m really not interested in barbecuing techniques.”

She shrugged. “Then find something else to talk about. He’s finally making an effort. We shouldn’t let that go to waste.”

Hiccup nodded and wracked his brain for a topic to strike up a conversation with Frederick about. He’d never really been alone with the man so far, there had always been at least one other person present to save them from any awkward interactions.

He was so lost in thought, he almost didn’t catch Wilma’s announcement about the party. She and her husband would soon have their 25th wedding anniversary and wanted to celebrate it with family and friends. Hiccup was naturally invited but, after a quick check with Astrid, so was Eret. After all those years he’d been considered part of the Hofferson family, and considering he and Astrid were still on such good terms, Astrid’s parents wanted him to be there with them.

Astrid sent him a sidelong glance, asking with her eyes if he was okay with that. He sent back an answer of, Do I have a choice here?

I can talk to him and ask him not to come, she offered.

He shook his head. No, that’s stupid. We’re adults. I’m okay with him coming. He’s family.

Well, she raised her brows, if you’re sure…

“…no, I don’t think she’s listening. Astrid!”

She looked up. “Sorry, what?”

Frederick chuckled. “Your mother just asked you whether you could help her carry the dishes into the kitchen.”

“Oh, sure, yeah. Of course.” She got up and started collecting the plates, sending Hiccup a conspiratorial smile before she followed her mother into the house. That left him at the table with Frederick.

For several minutes, they busied themselves with their beers and the last pieces of bread still on the table. From inside the house, voices and the clattering of dishes carried over, not quite loudly enough to provide sufficient white noise and deeming a conversation between the two men necessary to drown out the awkwardness settling over them like heavy snow.

Whatever you do, Hiccup firmly told himself, just don’t talk about the weather. Really, anything but that. Or sex. Especially with his daughter. He gulped down the rest of his beer, looking anywhere but at Frederick, infinitely glad that mind-reading wasn’t a thing.

His fingers drummed on the legs of his chair and he couldn’t sit still, shifting around, accidentally bumping his knee against the underside of the table, grimacing through the pain. He was just about to jump up and flee into the house when Frederick spoke.

“So,” he started, leaning forward a little, “I’ve always meant to ask…”

Please don’t be an embarrassing question, Hiccup mentally prayed. “Yes?”

“What exactly is it that you do at your job?” Oh, thank god. Hiccup exhaled. “Astrid mentioned it a couple times, but I never really caught it.”

“Ah, well, I illustrate uh, books?” Why had that come out as a question? “Yeah, um… Mostly covers and artwork for fantasy novels, and I’ve done some children’s books… Uh. Do you like to read?”

“The newspaper.”

“Oh. Yeah, I don’t do that. Illustrate that, I mean. I do read it, though!” Please come back, he mentally cried, hoping Astrid would pick up the brain waves. The other man just nodded and another silence engulfed the table. Hiccup continued drumming on the chair. When Astrid had met his parents, she’d immediately gotten along with them, especially with his dad. Why couldn’t he do the same with hers?

“I’m not very artistic myself,” Frederick continued in an attempt to keep the conversation going. He really was trying.

“You’re a construction engineer, right?”

“Exactly.”

“Don’t you need a certain level of artistic ability for that, too? Designing constructions is still designing, after all.”

Frederick shrugged. “Sure, I can think up construction plans and put them neatly on paper, but I could never draw, say, a dragon. I just don’t have the imagination or patience or creativity.”

“I’d argue you are creative. Where else would you get ideas for constructions from?”

“Well, if you put it like that… Maybe you’re right.”

Hiccup felt a surge of confidence. They were having a conversation and Frederick was agreeing with him. “When I was little, I always wanted to become an engineer. I had a whole room full of Lego Technic stuff and I would spend entire days building, taking apart, and rebuilding all kinds of machines.”

Frederick raised his head in interest. “What changed your mind?”

“Nothing, actually.” He scratched his neck. “There was this engineering school I wanted to go to, but they were full the year I wanted to start. And instead of applying somewhere else, I took their offer to start the next year. In the meantime, I enrolled in a number of illustration courses and liked it so much that I stayed.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

“No, I don’t.” He didn’t even have to think about it. “I love my job. And, well… Through a chain of events it’s what’s led me here.” Frederick gave him a quizzical look. “I mean, uh, my friend and colleague Fishlegs, he… Um, long story short, he introduced me to my ex-girlfriend. And she has a brother who has this best friend and… Ah, you see, this best friend had a fiancée…”

An understanding light went on behind Frederick’s eyes. Nervously, Hiccup waited for the reaction that told him the other man wasn’t very amused by the story, taking into account that he’d probably exchange Hiccup for Eret on the spot if he could…

What he hadn’t expected was for the man to burst out laughing.

“Well, in that case, the engineering school not taking you gave me a second son-in-law.”

“Oh, ah…” Hiccup felt his face heat up at the term. He felt a ramble bubbling up in his chest, about how he’d only barely discussed that with Astrid and how she wasn’t even sure she wanted–

“Don’t worry, I’m just teasing you, son.” With a chuckle, Frederick leaned back in his chair and Hiccup exhaled. “So tell me, what machines exactly did you build as a kid?”

Once he started talking about his Lego inventions from his childhood, Hiccup lost track of time. An indefinite time later, Astrid and Wilma returned to the table, finding the two men deep in conversation. Wide smile on her face, Astrid gave him a kiss on the cheek and shared a pleased look with her mother. At the end of the day, he had to promise Frederick to continue their conversation the next time they saw each other.

Maybe he wasn’t yet an Eret when it came to being an integral part of the family, but he was getting there.

_______________

On the night of the Hofferson’s anniversary party, Hiccup found himself surrounded by several of Astrid’s great-aunts, great-uncles, grandparents, and various other older folk somehow related to or friends with the family.

He’d actually just wanted to take a break from socializing and had retreated to one of the tables in the corner while the party continued on the dancefloor and at the bar. Astrid’s cousins were doing shots, but he’d just so managed to escape. Her uncle had claimed dance after dance with her. Wilma and Frederick were moving from group to group, having a drink here and a conversation there, dancing with friends and family in-between. And Eret stood with the cousins as if he was one of them.

It had been quite a tad awkward when great-aunt Phyllis had walked past the two of them earlier, cheeks red from brandy, and said with a cheeky wink: “Let’s hope she sticks with this one.” Once she had moved on, Hiccup wanted to sink into the ground and Eret was guffawing.

Now, Phyllis was sitting opposite him, another Cognac in front of her, giggling with the group about something he’d said. He’d discovered he had a knack for entertaining the older generation of his girlfriend’s family. They questioned him about every single detail of his life, his family, and their favorite topic, the story of how he and Astrid fell in love. Even after hearing it for the third time that night, they still aw-ed and ah-ed, hanging onto his every word.

“Then what happened with Eret?”

“Larry, he’s right there,” great-uncle Greg groaned and pointed at the tall man downing tequila with cousin Beth.

“But I don’t know the details, old fart!”

“Who are you calling old?! I’m younger than you.”

Grandma Rosie, 93 years of age, lifted her walking stick and threatened to whack them both over the head if they didn’t stop bickering. The men let their squabbling go and grinned as the rest of the group watched, amused, as Rosie’s façade crumbled, revealing the humor in her eyes. Eleven wrinkly faces returned their attention to Hiccup, expectant and curious, some a little wary. They hadn’t heard this part of the story yet and they had caught on to Eret’s change of lifestyle.

Hiccup hesitated. This wasn’t his story to tell anymore. And part of his audience was quite conservative, already scrunching up their noses. Then again, Eret had come here with an official male date. He wasn’t hiding anything. And to their credit, even the most conservative person in this hall had been nothing but supportive towards Astrid’s life choices so far, first a divorce not even two years into her marriage, then bringing both her current and her ex-partner to a family event.

Also her supposed choice of having kids out of wedlock, but since she was currently drinking a glass of wine on the other side of the hall, Hiccup expected that particular rumor to dissolve during the night. Not that it hadn’t given him a minor heart attack, though, when he’d first been asked about it by great-uncle Charles. Hiccup had told her that dress looked a little baggy when she was sitting down, no matter how gorgeous she looked.

“Well,” he started, searching for the right words, “Eret’s date went great. But after a few weeks with Tim, the spark faded.”

“And then he was with that girl from the bakery, right?” Susan, one of the Hofferson’s neighbors, chimed in, leaning forward and lowering her volume just a bit, as if she was passing on a secret. “I saw them together a few times.” Astrid had warned him about Susan. That woman was probably the worst gossiper in all of Berk. That’s why he’d made sure she was the first to hear that Astrid was, in fact, not pregnant.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, “he dated Christina for a short while.” He didn’t specify that this short while had only been three consecutive weekends on which they had hooked up. He also deliberately left out the part where Eret had tried to figure out the exact nature of his sexual orientation, having short flings with several women and men. “But then he found love in unexpected places and that’s been going strong for several months now. And counting.” Finally, he might add. He and Astrid had had quite the bet riding on that one. She still owed him several, well, favors.

“Aww,” cooed the group. No comments or expressions of disgust regarding the homosexual nature of Eret’s relationship. If they didn’t like it, they were keeping that to themselves. These people were here for love, no matter the manifestation. And as a bonus, they liked him. Astrid’s entire family, from first cousins to the great-aunt’s third husband, had welcomed him with open arms. Some more wary at first, some with a sassy comment, but warm and openly, nonetheless. He started to feel like he belonged.

“So Hiccup, tell me,” Susan shuffled her chair a little closer to his, expectant look in her eyes, and asked the question he’d feared would come up eventually. “When are you and Astrid getting married?”

“Ah… Um, I- I–”

“Susan, come on,” Rosie chided the nosy woman with a sharp glare that Astrid had obviously inherited from her, “it’s only been a year. This generation is different from yours or mine. Kids these days don’t want to settle down first chance they get. Let them live life!”

Susan pouted, but she listened to Rosie and dropped the topic. Hiccup smiled gratefully at the old lady, even though the truth was a little more complicated than what she’d said.

With a little wink in his direction, she added, “We old folk don’t need to understand everything the youths are up to. Our time is over. Now we just do our job keeping them humble by telling them horror stories about wars and an age before the facebooks and twittle existed.” She raised her glass of white wine spritzer at Hiccup. “Right, my boy?”

Suppressing a laugh, he mimicked the motion with his empty beer bottle. Individual discussions broke out among the table, varying from rants about kids these days to how old Florence had recently bought a 4k TV set. Susan continued to do her best contributing her share of gossip.

Hiccup was just considering leaving the table to it when he felt it. It was subtle, a twitch of his heart, a prickling in his neck, before not a moment later two arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind.

“What are you kids up to over here?” she asked, her lively voice right next to his ear coating his chest in honey. He didn’t register the following conversation, only felt the vibrations of her laughter, distracted by the warmth of her arms around him, her perfume, her general proximity. Despite being used to it by now, the rush of the feeling still turned his insides into an out-of-control carnival ride.

She shifted behind him, bringing her face closer, and whispered in his ear. “Want me to save you?”

There was no need, he was sure he could just leave the table on his own, but he would never turn down the offer to be saved by Astrid Hofferson, who he was sure was descendant from literal Valkyries… He was getting distracted again. “Yes, please,” he whispered back.

She took his hand and pulled him out of the chair. “Come on, let’s get a drink.” They waved goodbye to the table of elders and made their way over to the bar. Immediately, one of her cousins asked him what he wanted to drink, handing him a glass of rum and coke, and in no time, he found himself included in the conversation. And not just because he was Astrid’s boyfriend. He saw it in their eyes, felt it in his gut. He was part of the family.

At some point a little later in the night, the music switched to hits from the 90s and 2000s, and most people left the bar to dance. Hiccup used the opportunity for a minute to breathe, now alone at the bar except for Astrid and two of her cousins. Olive and June were busy with whatever endless row of texts June was receiving, and Astrid had leaned her head on his shoulder, watching the mob on the dancefloor. He slid an arm around her.

“Look at Hank,” she said and pointed at the crowd. A middle-aged man, her dad’s best friend Hank, was raving in the middle of the dancefloor, completely lost in the beat. His shirt had come out of his pants and there was a large beer stain on his chest. People around him were cheering as the usually so composed office worker was letting loose in their midst.

Hiccup spotted a shock of fiery red hair dancing its way over to him and grinned. “Looks like he found a friend.” Astrid chuckled as they watched Dagur join Hank with his ridiculous dance moves, and the two men took over the entire floor. “I’ve never seen anyone so passionate about the Crazy Frog.”

“I have. Dagur and Eret, at a college party.” She grinned and joked, “I really should have seen this coming when Eret ditched me half the night to dance with Dagur.”

Scanning the crowd for Eret, Hiccup found him talking to the DJ. He’d never forget the day Astrid and he had been over at the man’s place for brunch when all of a sudden, the door to Eret’s bedroom had opened and a yawning Dagur, clad in only boxers and a loose bathrobe, had strolled out, disappearing down the hall into the bathroom.

Eret had cleared his throat. “Yeah, so, when I said I had news, that’s what I wanted to tell you.” However he’d thought Hiccup and Astrid to react, he probably hadn’t expected them to instantly start haggling over winnings and unwritten betting conditions. By the time Dagur had joined them at the table, Astrid had admitted defeat and settled for an I told you so-face directed at everyone.

They really made an odd group, even more so with Heather thrown into the mix. Astrid always got a kick out of explaining to other people how they all met, watching them try to figure out the specific relations and histories between all individuals involved. Hiccup had to admit, it was kind of funny.

The song ended, fading over into a beat he loved to hate, or hated to love, accompanied by a honking sound and a distinct 90s beat. Next to him, Astrid bobbed her head from side to side to the music, and the next moment, Eret’s outstretched hand appeared in front of him.

“Hofferson, this is our song!”

Astrid thrust her drink into Hiccup’s hands. “Hold this for me, babe!” Then she pulled Eret onto the dancefloor, instantly falling into a series of dance moves clearly coordinated with Eret’s. Hiccup blinked a couple of times at the sight.

A snort next to him shook him out of his stare. It was Frederick, ordering a tray of drinks. “Whoever has an elaborate choreography to the Vengabus song figured out, deserves to be best friends. Don’t you think?”

Hiccup smirked. “Oh, sure.”

Frederick saw his expression and mirrored it. “You’re not going to let her forget this, are you?”

“Nope.” He took in every little aspect of the show. Oh, she would never hear the end of this. In perfect sync, she and Eret dragged peace signs in front of their eyes, swung their arms around, twirled, and did something vaguely resembling the chicken dance. This even blew Ross and Monica’s Routine from Friends out of the water.

“You can still run and never come back,” Frederick suggested.

“Are you kidding me?” Hiccup laughed. “Why would I ever leave a girl like her?”

“Good answer.” Frederick boxed his shoulder, then took the tray over to the table of elders. The friendly violence seemed to run in the family.

When the song ended and another took its place, Dagur wedged himself between Astrid and Eret, claiming his new dance partner. Shaking her head with a humorous eye-roll, she walked back over to Hiccup and took her glass back. Upon his grin, she asked, “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” His grin didn’t fade. “That was… Beautiful. Graceful. I- I don’t have the words.”

“Shut up, you’re just jealous.”

He wrapped both arms around her, mindful of the drink in her hand, and kissed her temple. “Yeah, totally. I wish I had moves like that.”

“Yes, you wish.” She was grinning now, too, turning her head to give him a kiss, and then another one. He would be crazy if he ever even considered leaving her.

A few songs later, the beat slowed to a Cranberries song. Astrid put her glass away and tugged at his hand. “Your turn.” She didn’t pull him onto the dancefloor, just stepped a few feet away from the bar, put one hand on his back and laid the other in his. Together, they danced on the spot, her face resting in the crook of his neck.

After a while, he mumbled into her hair, “Susan brought up the question.”

She didn’t need to ask what he meant. “What did you tell her?”

“I didn’t. Before I could say anything, granny Rosie came to my rescue. She said something about generational differences and Susan shut up. We should steer clear of her, though, I don’t think she was satisfied with that answer.”

She huffed. “I can handle Susan.” He knew she could. He just didn’t want to face that question again without feeling the need to explain Astrid’s decision to not get married again; it was none of Susan’s business. If Astrid changed her mind, though, he wouldn’t waste any time. Even if they were in the pharmacy aisle of a rundown big box store, surrounded by diarrhea medicine, and Snotlout was the officiator. Although, come to think of it, he might be able to make himself wait until they’d moved to at least the garden center.

As if she’d read his mind, Astrid lifted her head and looked up. “You want to get married, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer straightaway. “I know you don’t and that’s okay. I want to share a life with you, be by your side, as your partner in everything, no matter what a document says or what last name I have.”

She chuckled. “Oh, so you’d take my name?”

“Sure! Hiccup Astrid Haddock, that has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?”

She groaned good-naturedly. “You’re ridiculous.” After a short pause, she continued, “You know what? If I ever end up changing my mind, I’ll take yours.”

“Wait, really? What about your family pride?”

“Oh, I’ll make sure my kids know their roots.”

His lips stretched into a smile. “Your kids, huh?”

Hiding a blush, she buried her face in his shoulder. “You know whose kids.” Her voice came out muffled and was nearly drowned out by the next song, louder and faster than the last, but he’d heard her.

“Okay. Deal.”

[triviareads]

The Becoming of Charlotte Bridgerton (And the Continuous Outrage of Anthony Bridgerton)

For Kate and Anthony 2021 Week, Day 6 Prompt: "Make me".

The Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton prided themselves on being excellent hosts. Bridgerton House was forever teeming with friends and family during the season, and as their children grew older, their home became a veritable haven for the young people-

A haven Kate presently found herself eavesdropping on along with her very irritated husband.

To be fair, it wasn’t exactly her fault. She was looking for Charlotte and could not find her anywhere in the house. Somewhere along the way, she had run into Anthony who also looking for their daughter (presumably to gift her with yet another expensive bauble, Kate thought, rolling her eyes. Anthony always did dote on the girls).

After exhausting themselves, Kate struck upon the idea of looking in the library, where Miles was entertaining. Her hunch proved right when the Lord and Lady Bridgerton peeked through the shelves to see Miles, his cousins David, the Earl Clyvedon, and Lady Caroline Findlay-Watt; as well as Mr. Arthur Granville, James De Courcy, the Earl of Clairmont; and Charlotte, sitting right there with the rest of them, taking part spiritedly in their conversation as if such behavior was perfectly normal for a girl who had barely completed two seasons.

“What is she doing with Miles's friends?” Anthony whispered after a requisite scandalized gasp.

“Talking, I believe,” Kate said wryly, choosing wisely to ignore the fact that their daughter had helped herself to a finger of whisky.

“But she is alone! In a roomful of young men!” Anthony spluttered and moved to rush forward in what Kate assumed was a bid to rescue his sweet, innocent daughter from the clutches of these men (and Caroline).

“My dear,” Kate said, restraining him, “both Miles and David are there, and Caroline is chaperoning her.”

Anthony threw her a dry look. “This is Caroline we are speaking of.”

Kate was privately inclined to agree that perhaps Lady Caroline Findlay-Watt (formerly Lady Caroline Basset) was not the best chaperone in that she was far too permissive and her circles ran too liberal.

Nevertheless, Kate shushed her husband. “I want to see what our daughter has to say. We so rarely get to see her among her peers.”

It was true- what their eldest daughter did with her time ever since she debuted was something of a mystery. Of course, she attended the requisite balls and other events with Kate, but Charlotte was all too happy to be taken around by her older, married Hastings cousins, something Kate was secretly thankful for, because she knew they would give her the sort of social advantage even Kate could not offer her daughter.

Anthony grumblingly agreed to Kate’s command and fell silent.

“-All shoring up for it,” David was telling the group seriously. “I do want to remain optimistic, but as Lady Holland recently put it, it is no longer a matter of if, but when.”

He then turned to Charlotte, who was too busy staring at Lord Clairmont, and had to be called on repeatedly to elicit any response. Kate glanced at Clairmont, long-limbed and elegant, taking note of how his posture was subtly inclined towards her daughter.

Charlotte was eventually pulled away from her thoughts. “What?” she blinked and asked. “Oh yes, I agree- this government will fall.”

David cackled at this. “Good lord, Charlotte. You sound positively Jacobin when you say it like that.”

“One would think your namesake was Mademoiselle Corday and not the late queen,” Miles teased his sister.

Charlotte, who always took great pleasure in extending a joke, said wryly, “I suppose we’ll only truly know if I ever feel an inclination to assassinate any of you in your bathtub.” This roused a hearty laugh from the group.

Anthony snorted quietly.

Clairmont, who had been silent up until that point, spoke. “I should like to hear what Miss Bridgerton has to say on the matter.” He looked directly at Charlotte who, to Kate’s amusement, blushed ever so slightly. Kate wondered whether the blush was due to the pleasure of having her opinion asked after, or if it was something else entirely…

Kate had her suspicions.

Charlotte spoke. “I know David mentioned the current financial crisis, but I recall someone recently mentioning that the the Jamaica Bill was something of a turning point. Ever since then, all I seem to read in the papers is how tenuous a coalition the current government is comprised of.” Charlotte shrugged and concluded, “I suppose it’s easy to overlook because the bill ultimately passed, and the Whigs did remain in power, though no thanks to Parliament itself.”

Kate glanced at Anthony after this little speech, and to her amusement, she could tell he was riveted.

“Ah, the crisis of Her Majesty’s bedchamber!” Miles said spiritedly. “The only reason the Whigs prevailed!”

Charlotte rolled her eyes at her brother. “Crisis of the bedchamber- you make it sound far more tawdry than it really was, Miles.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to say that, cousin,” Lady Caroline said mischievously. “I can say with confidence that Amelia’s father-in-law had a public temper tantrum at the Lords when the news emerged that Amelia would not, after all, be one of the queen’s new ladies.”

Mr. Granville asked, “Lady Lowestoft’s father-in-law is… the Earl of Norwich, I think?”

Caroline nodded. “Yes. From my understanding, he lobbied Sir Robert rather hard for Amelia’s position.”

“And Amelia was crushed by the outcome, I’m sure,” David said sarcastically to his sister.

Caroline smirked, “Hardly. Now Norwich on the other hand…”

Lord Clairmont said emphatically, “I have seen that man enough in the Lords to understand exactly what you mean, Lady Caroline.”

“And would you account for Lord Norwich’s poor behavior on the account of some personality deficit, or merely the fact that he is a Tory?”

“A combination of both, my lady,” Clairmont assured her, to everyone’s amusement.

“Norwich was always a bit of a prig,” Anthony muttered to Kate.

Miles, eager to give his opinion on the matter, spoke. “I suppose that whole fracas can ultimately be attributed to Her Majesty’s unwillingness to back down rather than the strength of any one political party.”

“But even that is wholly political, Bridgerton,” Clairmont argued. “Did Melbourne not purposely provide the queen with Whig intimates so she could grow close to them and come to rely on them?”

Miles shrugged. “The queen still could have disliked them. It is hardly Melbourne’s fault if they genuinely grew to become her confidantes.”

“And I should think that you would be the last person to complain about such a thing, Clairmont,” Granville pointed out.

Clairmont grinned. “Oh believe me Granville, I’m not complaining.”

“I thought it was rather admirable for the queen to stand her ground on the matter,” Caroline opined. “One forgets that despite all her grand titles, she is still a woman of one-and-twenty who is being advised by men thrice her age.”

Charlotte smiled at her cousin. “I agree. By all accounts, Her Majesty has proven herself to be quite set in her ways, which is rather impressive.”

“Stubborn could be another way to put it,” Miles teased his sister, who pulled a face at him.

Kate stifled a laugh. Despite their ages, her children could reliably be counted upon to torment one another in little ways.

“Was the queen always like that, Caro?” David turned to his sister and asked. “Weren’t you invited to socialize with her some years ago?”

Caroline laughed. “I’m the last person you should ask, David. The Duchess of Kent nearly booted me out of the princess’s twelfth birthday party because I was too high-spirited and steered her daughter clear of me the entire time. Charlotte, on the other hand, was a perfect angel and played dollies with Princess Victoria for a quarter-hour while the rest of us watched enviously.”

“You remember that?” Charlotte asked delightedly. “All I can recall is the duchess staring disapprovingly at the lot of us- that and the cake.” She said in an afterthought, “To be fair, I was only nine.”

“I’ve heard rumors that the Duchess of Kent had some whiggish sympathies,” Lord Clairmont said thoughtfully. “I wonder if the queen showed any such inclinations early on?” He towards Charlotte.

Charlotte laughed, high and bright. “What would you like me to say, my lord? That the Princess Victoria showed some affection towards little Frances Cowper at her birthday party and therefore was converted to our Whig cause for life?”

“Our cause?” Anthony raised his brows towards Kate. “Did our daughter suddenly decide on a political affiliation?”

Kate shrugged, somewhat confused at so partisan a statement coming from her daughter.

Lord Clairmont chuckled, knowing he had been routed by Charlotte, though in a thoroughly charming manner. He grinned at her and said, “I wouldn't put that past Lady Cowper- pardon, Lady Palmerston. I still forget she remarried.”

"You might be the only person in all of England who still makes that mistake, sir," Charlotte told Clairmont dryly, "for the rest of us have been calling her Lady Palmerston for years."

The room roared with laughter at this.

Kate’s jaw dropped at so ribald a joke coming from her daughter- however artfully it was said.

Anthony choked and very badly attempted to stifle his coughing. “Good God!” He spluttered in an undertone. “I ought to go out there and trounce-”

Kate broke in sharply, “-No you will not- For heaven’s sake, show some restraint, Anthony!”

“Restraint?” Anthony repeated belligerently, and then said with a defiant gleam in his eye, “Make me.”

Kate gave him a lethal smile, fairly certain she knew what sort of persuasions her husband was open to, but she would not give him that satisfaction- not yet, at least.

“Oh I have no doubt I can,” Kate smirked. “For example, what if I told you I expect there to be an understanding reached between Charlotte and Lord Clairmont any day now?”

Anthony’s eyes widened to an almost comical extent and he gawped at his wife. “What?” he hissed. “How could you possibly know this?” His gaze flickered between Charlotte and Clairmont, as if were attempting to make out some visible attachment between the two unsuspecting young people.

“Because I am her mother,” Kate said, looking very smug. “And she told me herself, in other words.”

“She never told me,” Anthony said petulantly.

Kate raised her hand to pat his cheek in a conciliatory manner. “My dear, she knows you too well in that you are hardly tact personified.”

“But that Clairmont fellow!” Anthony whispered, glancing back at the man in question. “He’s so… staid.”

“I think she rather likes him for it,” Kate said thoughtfully, watching as Clairmont continued to be rather sweetly solicitous of Charlotte and her opinions.

And then, purely to torment her husband, she said, “Keep your schedule open, Lord Bridgerton. I would not be surprised if the earl comes to call on you shortly, if this little conversation is anything to go by.”

Anthony growled, broke free of Kate’s grasp, and before she could do anything, he strode forward.

[soniaxdixon]

The New World; Series

Okay so this is my first time writing a fic and obviously will be my first series but I’ve just rewatched TWD for like the 17th time and my obsession with Daryl has reached new levels. I hope that it isn’t too shit and that you guys actually read/like it. Thank you in advance for baring with my average writing but I mean, how else will I learn? Anyway, enjoy! 

Sonia x 

Set pre to early season 1, back story for when the world ended.

Part 1 of ??

Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger hot headed sister. When Rick gets shot and falls into a coma, Y/N’s world ends. Y/N Finds herself at a quarry near Atlanta with her nephew carl, sister in law Lori and her best friend Glenn where she meets her new family including the equally hot headed redneck Daryl Dixon. Over time Y/N and Daryl begin to form a friendship, finally allowing one another to open up to someone and maybe finding someone they can actually love. 

Warnings! Slowish burn but the feels are there from the start, swearing, some gore (hardly in this one) and merle being a bit of a dick as usual. 

Words: 1428

Growing up a Grimes wasn’t always the best, especially being hot headed but having Rick as a brother made everything a lot easier. He was always able to calm you down, like he was the only one who knew how.

The day he got shot felt like a piece of your heart being ripped away, never to be replaced, never to be healed. That was the day your world ended.

When the world went to shit you were wishing he was there guiding your every move.

You scrambled through your one bedroom apartment, haphazardly shoving clothes into bags, anything and everything you thought you might need. Medicine, first aid kits, anything you could use as a weapon, anything to keep yourself alive. Ripping open the drawer near your front door you grabbed your keys and drove like you had nothing to lose. Racing through streets, running red lights, you watched as the world crumbled before you. People looting stores on one side of the street while on the other side the monsters ripped into the people you once new. Normalcy was now a memory. Normalcy was not normal anymore.

Swinging around a corner you barely put the car in park as you leapt out and barrelled into Lori’s house.

“Lori! Carl!” You yelled as loud as you could, your voice being drowned out by the sounds of sirens, helicopters and king county shattering around you.

“Lori! Where the fuck are you?” At this point you were screaming.

Carl came running around the corner throwing himself at you, tears in his eyes as you both fell to the floor hugging each other. Knowing he was safe was all you needed.

You held carl’s face in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes.

“Where’s your mom?”

“She’s in the garage with Shane, packing all of our camping gear. I’m scared Y/N”

“I know you are baby but we will get through this. I promise.”

You got up and let go of the boy, racing into the garage and catching Lori’s eyes, she ran and embraced you.

“Thank God you’re okay” she said, still holding you tight.

“I don’t know what to do Lori. Everything is happening all at once, how will we get Rick through this, how will we get through this?” You rambled looking between Lori and Shane.

You watched as their expressions dropped, Shane’s eyes looking at the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck. Lori’s eyes filled with tears as she grabbed your hands.

“Rick’s gone”

The words hit you like a freight train as you collapsed to the floor, your own knees not being able to take the weight of the words that she spoke.

“I went to the hospital to get him out, he wouldn’t wake up. I tried Y/N I tried.” Shane was explaining what happened in the hospital but the words washed over you, your brain refusing to comprehend the things he was saying.

————

All of this felt like years ago at this point. A distant memory. Rick was a distant memory.

You woke up in your tent as the morning light began to enter the space. Sounds of people chatting quietly outside filled the air as you forced yourself off the ground, pulling on your black jeans, a grey t-shirt and your boots. Looping your belt around your waist and making sure your knife was easily accessible.

You fumbled around with the zipper of your tent still half asleep, stumbling out and greeting everyone with a small smile.

“There she is” Dale said with a charming smirk, “any longer and we would have sent Carl to come and jump on you.”

You chuckled at the remark, “It’s like 6 o’clock, calm down old man” you retorted, earning a hearty laugh from Dale.

You made your way over to Lori to see if she needed any help with breakfast but she and carol had it under control. “Smells great, you making your famous Sunday pancakes, Lori? Don’t forget to actually mix the batter” You said, obvious sarcasm in your tone.

She pushed your arm playfully as you reminisced the many clumps of flour you had eaten in the past, forcing a smile every time with a fake compliment “they’re greeaatt”

You sauntered over to T-Dogg who was sitting on top of the RV keeping watch.

“Mornin’ Y/N”

“Hey T”

You made it half way up the ladder before you were halted by an unfortunately familiar voice.

“Now how the hell did ya manage to squeeze that ass in those jeans, God damn.” The Southern drawl of the older Dixon brother had you fuming before you even turned around.

“Man don’t you ever shut up?” T-Dogg yelled from the top of the RV.

“What the hell d’ya say to me?” Merle retorted but before anything could get heated between the two of them you dropped off the ladder and made your way over to Merle.

“Keep it in your pants you redneck prick.” Your harsh tone really getting the message across as Merle put his hands up in surrender but still made it known that his eyes were on you the whole time you walked away.

Your best friend, Glenn made his way into the middle of the group announcing that he wanted to make a run into the city to look for some supplies. He said the last time he went in, he found a department store that had everything from clothes to food and looked as though it wasn’t overrun or burnt down. A few of the group members volunteered to go including you but Shane was quick to shut that idea down.

“No way in hell am I letting you go into the city.”

“Last I checked, you’re not my babysitter, Shane.” You quickly responded

He shot you a glance and you rolled your eyes. It wasn’t worth the argument, plus, after you had volunteered, Merle did too and you did not want to deal with that headache for however long the run took.

Within an hour, Glenn and the others were packed and ready to go into the city. Glenn came over to you and you pulled him into a tight hug.

“Don’t get eaten, please.”

He chuckled and let go of you, nodding. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

“No promises” you smiled and waved as he and the rest headed off towards the city.

You looked to your left and saw the younger Dixon brother watching as his brother went off on yet another run. You could see worry in his eyes but you knew he would never show it properly. He’d probably be called a pussy by Merle for showing the slightest ounce of care towards anything. You didn’t realise you had been staring until you heard his voice.

“What the hell r’ya lookin’ at?” His words came across with more anger than he had intended

You blinked quickly and looked away. Your cheeks flushing a slight shade of pink as you struggled for words. Something about this man made your mouth run dry and your stomach flip.

“N-Nothing, sorry.” You quickly walked off but Daryl’s eyes remained trained on you, squinting as you walked towards the sunlight but still remaining focussed on you. He couldn’t figure you out. You were so harsh towards his brother, so easily set off by the slightest thing. If someone said the wrong thing you would mercilessly attack them with words and yet with him, you could hardly speak. You couldn’t be around him for more than 5 minutes.

He thought about you for a while, he didn’t understand why you were on his mind but you were. You had never even held a conversation and yet the only thing he could think about was you. In a similar way, the only thing on your mind that night, was him.

You made your way to your tent stealing one last quick glance at Daryl who was making his way up the RV for night watch, he locked eyes with you for a second and you smiled, a small smile but enough to make daryl nod at you in return.

The simple gesture made your heart jump as you hastily pushed your way into your tent almost falling over.

Changing into your pyjamas the simple interaction played over in your head as you climbed into your sleeping bag and drifted to sleep.

Just like that, another day was over in this new world and another one was ready to begin.

[67impalaandwhisky]

Destiny Is Heaven Sent

Summary: Knowing Dean Winchester since you were fifteen, you’ve always been pulled in his direction. Always wanting to open up the rattled and broken cage your heart lives in. But when the child you’ve been raising together dies, you find yourself closing up the cage of your heart again. And if destiny has one thing for you, it’s to break you down before bringing you back up.

Characters: Dean x You, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, OFC’s, OMC’s, (Ongoing)

This Series Is Set Through Seasons 1-6 With Knowledge That The Bunker Exists

Rating: 18+

Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Grieving, Mentions of Rape and Defilement (As Per A Case), Show Level Violence, Swearing, Smut, Impreg Kink, Blood, Fighting, Drinking, Dean Being Dean, Fluff, Angst, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader

Warnings For This Chapter: Sexual Thoughts, Sexual Tension (!), A Break In The Case 

Chapter 3.

The slam on the door jolts you awake first thing in the morning.

With a whine, you hold your head before looking at Dean who's curled around you like a snake as he continues to sleep.

"Hey!" Sam yells through the door.

You hear the small tinkering in the lock before the door comes opening up with him crouched down right before it. He gives a nervous chuckle as you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Lock picking so early in the morning, Samuel?"

"We got a new body. Prostitute just like our first victim." He says before looking down at Dean as he buries his face into your bare side.

"Me and Dean will go. Let me just get him up." You say before giving his younger brother a weak smile.

Sam shakes his head, a smile widening over his face as he closes the door shut.

You look down to your left as you blink, trying to clear your mind of all the alcohol sluggishness you feel. He looks so peaceful when he's sleeping. No hardened eyes or worry lines on his forehead.

His lips are gently parted, the famous Dean stubble gracing his sleeping face. 

You want to open up the cage that surrounds your heart and that's exactly why you can't. 

You shouldn't want to do anything. And, maybe that's the harsh negativity in your brain but you can't see any other way around it. 

Letting him in would mean you would be vulnerable. Would he be the one to protect you? He would be the one to comfort you? 

He shouldn't have to.

Fuck that destiny stuff. Fuck that soulmate stuff.

But, you're frightened that there will be a time when you need him over anything else.

And it's slowly coming to that time. The time to just let out your demons and accept that you're not safe and sound if it isn't with Dean. 

"Dean?" You whisper softly as you nudge him.

He groans at the call of his name, nudging his hips closer to yours and you can feel his morning erection digging into your thigh as he sniffles gently.

You've felt it before, you've felt his hips snap and jolt against you looking for the heat of your body to get him off in his sleep throughout the years.

You can feel the fresh wave of arousal washing over you like waves. Your vision tunnels as you look down at his briefs.

He must have taken his pants off after you fell asleep.

His thighs are toned and taut as they flex beneath the thin black fabric of his underwear.

Subconsciously, you lick your lips as the outline of his cock protrudes through the fabric. 

You've always heard praise and moans through thin motel walls from the women he's fucked. Always moaning about how big his cock is and how it fills them so full. You always thought it was a show until now. He was packing something serious in those denim jeans of his.

You haven't been fucked in a long time. Too long if you're being honest. 

You can only imagine how his perfect pink lips would feel as they drift down your body. His calloused hands rough and urgent against your warm, soft skin. How his stubble would tickle you and make your skin only that much more sensitive for him.

Your hand cards through his hair and you lose yourself for a second as you watch him.

"Like what you see?" You hear him murmur, his voice laden with sleep.

Your eyes widen, your heart begins to pick up speed at the embarrassment of getting caught. 

Your hands react first, shoving him hard and fast away from you. He rolls off the bed and groans loudly as his body collides with the floor.

"Jesus Christ!" He whines as he sits up.

His eyes snap open, evergreen irises finding yours before he's rubbing the bleariness away with his fists.

"Let me give you a little lesson-," he cringes standing up before walking over to the counter and grabbing water, "if you see a hard cock, you touch it. You don't fling the person into the void." He grumbles before sipping the water.

You narrow your eyes at him, pulling the sheets over your half naked body, "Eat a dick, hot shot." You counter and he just simply smiles at the motel room floor before walking towards the bathroom.

"Relax, Candy girl. I like waking up next to you. Starts my day off right." There was no flirtatious tone to his voice, no wink. Nothing that would signify him trying to get into your pants. It brings a blush to your cheeks and neck. 

You find yourself grimacing as he shuts the door.

Wearily, you get up and grab your clothes before staring at the bathroom door.

Maybe if you crack the cage of your heart open only a little bit, it might suffice. Maybe if you just let him in a little then it would take away your pain.

"We have a new body." You call to him through the bathroom door.

He swings the door wide open as he steps out and you shield your body with your clothes as he leans against the door jamb.

"Let's get ready to gank this bitch then." 

You roll your eyes before shooing him away but you don't miss as his eyes drift over your almost bare legs that your clothes can't seem to cover.

His eyes flicker with mischief before retreating back into the bathroom with a sly smirk on his face.

God, if there was one thing that Dean knew it was that he was way more into you then you were into him.

Opening the passenger door to the Impala, he waits for you to step out of the hotel room. 

It's very rare to see you in a pencil skirt but the times that you do have it on, it's an experience for Dean. 

Your legs look so soft, your toned thighs are hidden and teasing underneath the constraining fabric, nevermind how pert and perky the globes of your ass look. 

He can't help the laugh he gives as you pull down the skirt uncomfortably, trying to make it go past your knees.

Everything you do is so endearing to him.

It's almost incredible to him that you've been the person you are since he met you and growing up he tried to get into people that were so absolutely different from you.

You were sexy and confident, not overly sexual and not flirtatious at all. You were focused and did your job to the best of your ability.

He admired everything about you in your entirety so when we looked for women, he looked for everything opposite of you. No one could ever be you nor would he want them to be.

"I feel so fucking restricted, this is horrible." You complain as you climb into the car.

"You look good." He comments simply.

You watch him walk around the car, his fingers tapping rhythmically against Baby's hood. He fixes his tie and you can feel your palms become sweaty at the sight of him in the rented suit.

You decided that you would start to open your cage, just a bit. Healing starts with you, it wouldn't just get better on its own.

Dean climbs into the car before turning to you. Without a second thought, you fix his tie even better than he could have done minutes earlier.

His breath stutters as you wipe off the shoulders of his suit jacket. Eyes widening a fraction as he looks down at you.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He murmurs as he starts the engine.

"Nothing." You reply as his hand purchases behind your chair.

What is it about Dean Winchester reversing a car that's so hot? The way he angles his body towards yours, you can smell all of his scents plus the citrusy bar of soap the motel provides.

He hums to himself as he begins to back up the car. You begin to count the freckles on his face before his eyes snap to yours.

"You are really weird today." He mumbles before pushing your hair off of your shoulder and squeezing it lightly.

"Marsh wouldn't want us to fight. He loved us being together." You say certainly as you look out the window.

Dean stops the car before turning to look at you fully. His eyes were roaming over your face. Your voice seemed peaceful. Were you letting him in again? Were you making the time to open your heart up for him once more?

"Yeah...he did love us being together." He replies as he tilts his head.

You give a small smile towards the window, watching him stare at you through the glass.

"Marsh would be mad at us if he saw how we've been acting." You say as you lower the window.

The man beside you stares ahead as he clears his throat.

You were opening up. He can feel his mood lifting into something on the sweet side of happiness. 

Maybe dreary clouds and terrible fights were on their way out. Maybe, you could start to be his life partner once more.

He smirks to himself as he stops at the light. 

"I'm glad you see it that way. I agree." He whispers before turning up the music.

On the way to the morgue, the car ride is filled with singing and laughs. Something that's been so distant in both of your lives for quite some time.

"Can you not touch that?" Dean asks as you throw your legs up onto the dashboard.

"What's got your panties in a twist, De? I want to listen to Kansas." You whine holding up the cassette. 

His evergreen irises flicker to you as he drives down the highway. You give him a wide smile, showing him your pearly whites and he smirks before grabbing the cassette.

"Fine just don't tell Sam I'm letting you pick the music." He mumbles before blasting the music as he lowers all your windows.

"WOO!" You cheer, the Indiana breeze blowing through your hair as you start to play the air guitar.

You can hear his hearty chuckle beside you as he speeds up the car. 

"You're the only girl I know that is me in the female form!" Dean yells above the music as he turns the car along the highways curves.

"Maybe that's why we make such a great team!" You call back as the melody of voices carries through the air.

"We're the perfect team, Candy girl! All I need is you, me, Sammy and a six pack of El Sol!" He yells as the engine revs loudly.

Sitting in the motel room by his lonesome, Sam taps his cell phone against his temple as he scrolls through his laptop.

What kind of pissed off spirit has the mojo to do this? There's not a single haunting as far as the eye can s-

"Hello Sam." He jumps in his chair before turning to the voice of Cas as he stands before the small kitchenette of the room.

"Hi Cas. Jesus." He mumbles before carding his fingers through his long hair.

Castiel stands quietly as Sam shuts his laptop.

"Uhhh Cas? Did you come for a reason?" The taller man asks as he grabs his cup of coffee.

"Yes." The angel replies and Sam nods slowly before raising his eyebrows.

"Okay. So. Why're you here?" He asks aloud as Cas sits down at the small table.

"We have to make Dean and Y/N fall in love with each other." Sam groans loudly at his words before sipping his coffee.

"Cas, I told you. I've tried but Dean just doesn't want to hear it. He's been hearing it since he was sixteen from our dad." The taller man notifies as he rests his elbow on the table.

"We should tell Y/N." Sam narrows his eyes at the angel before laughing.

"Yeah? Do you think she would take it better than Dean?" 

Cas ponders on the thought for a second before humming uneasily, "No. In fact, I think she might try to hit me for suggesting it and break her own hand in the process." 

Sam gives him a thumbs up before rolling his eyes. 

"They already love each other. They just have to get over the whole initial terror of being actual people with one another." He mumbles as Cas stares at him.

"Yes. But they need to do the act of love for destiny. God sent everyone a direct message, and they are just not heeding it." Sam leans forward at his admission.

"God wants Y/N and Dean together?" Sam asks loudly.

"Oh yes. It's been aware to all angels for quite some time. Right after you went into the cage." 

"Well why didn't you say that before? That's kind of a big deal, Cas!" Narrowing his eyes at the vessel of Lucifer, he stands back up.

"It isn't as big of a deal as it should be, apparently. They aren't even taking this seriously." He deadpans, his voice getting dangerously low.

Sam scoffs before looking down at his phone.

"I don't know what to say. They just have to figure it out on their own." He mumbles.

"Useless." Cas says before vanishing from sight.

Sam lets out a groan before opening up his laptop once more.

"You're useless." He whispers under his breath before continuing his research.

Pulling at your skirt, you shove the doors open exiting the morgue with your best friend by your side.

"They both were pulled from the same corner, both were aspiring models that wanted to just make some extra cash to live." Dean says as he takes off his tie.

You frown before giving up at the uncomfortable fabric and groaning loudly. 

"Would you stop? You look like your diggin' up your ass to find gold." He whispers as people walk by you into the building.

"Yeah well, this skirt fucking sucks! I feel trapped in a cocoon!" You bark back as you walk towards Baby.

"Your butt looks good though." He compliments calmly as he walks around the car.

"Shut up!" You admonish as he opens the door for you.

"Look! I can't even move my legs!" You complain as you try to stretch your legs, the fabric only giving way about four inches before you find your legs trying to close from the tightness of the fabric.

Rolling his eyes he unbuttons the top button of his dress shirt.

"Yeah, alright. I hear you. Let's go back and change. God, you whiner." He says, leaving your door open as he rounds the car to open his own.

Throwing your body into the car, you unzip the back of your skirt before sighing happily.

Dean looks over before his eyes widen and he grips the steering wheel tightly.

He can see the revealing skin beneath the open zipper, the gentle parting of your asscheeks below the tight fabric.

"Are you kidding me?" He complains as he turns on the engine.

"I don't feel as suffocated, leave me alone." You mutter out as you unbutton a few buttons on your blouse.

You were used to tight tank tops, loose jeans and combat boots. 

His eyes falter to the soft looking skin in his peripheral again, his tongue tracing over his bottom lip before clearing his throat.

"Just wear suit pants next time. Jesus." He says as he pulls out of the parking lot.

"Let's go change and get a beer. I'm thirsty." You tell him as you lower your window.

His head turns to watch you while he stops at a stoplight as you angle yourself out the window. The globes of your ass press tightly together as you fix yourself comfortably in the seat.

Running his large hand over his face, his bottom lip tucks between his teeth. 

You don't even know how sexy you are. You don't even care. That's what gets him so hot and bothered when he's alone.

"Light's green." You comment as you look at the autumnal leaves on the trees. 

God, what if he could just wrap his big hand around your waist and tug you into his lap. Pull you over the middle console of Baby and grip those sexy cheeks between his fingers.

So fucking pert and per-

"The light's green, idiot." You tell him as a car honks behind him. 

Sticking up his middle finger, he abandons his wildly horny thoughts to drive down the road.

"So are we getting beers?" You ask as you sit properly in the passenger's seat.

"Oh yeah. I need a drink." He murmurs, turning up the music loud.

"Yeah well we need to be quick about this. Another victim seems to be coming up." You say as you sit down in the booth of the dive bar with your two best friends by your side.

Throwing your legs over Dean's lap, you watch as his hands immediately grip them tugging you closer to his body on instinct as he sips his beer.

"There's not a single haunting in this town of Missouri." Sam whispers as the waitress comes over.

"Hey guys! Can I get you another round?" She asks, her eyes immediately wavering to the older brother as she pushes some hair behind her ear.

It doesn't quite bother you as much as you would think. Dean's been getting pussy since you both met. 

"What do you want?" He asks you, his thumb drifting over the leather of your thigh high combat boots as he ignores the waitress.

"Whisky and coke." You say as you look through the documents Sam has printed from a nearby Staples.

Dean leans closer to you and you freeze, your eyes flitting to Sam. You can feel your heart begin to beat faster, can feel your breath stuttering in your throat.

"You have an eyelash." He mumbles as he picks the lash off of your cheek.

Pulling back he holds the eyelash on his index finger in front of your face before turning to the waitress.

"I'll have what she's having. Sammy?" 

"Same." He murmurs suppressing his smile as you narrow your eyes at the younger brothers.

The waitress smiles, "Three whisky and cokes coming up. You want your drink extra strong, handsome?" 

Dean clears his throat as he pushes his empty beer bottle farther away from himself.

"Whatever you're giving my girl is good enough for me." He says calmly.

You wish that things would just fall into place, for the pain to go away and for your heart to be soothed and open once more.

You blow the eyelash off of his finger before leaning back in the booth. 

"She's your girlfriend?" The waitress asks, pointing at you with her pen.

You don't dignify a response as you stare at the pages of information on the victims. You're used to Dean turning the flirting into his nightly pleasure within a few minutes. 

"My wife, actually." Dean says before he finishes off your beer and grabs some papers on the case you're working.

Sam smiles widely before finishing his beer and you roll your eyes, suppressing the smirk your face just naturally wants to give. 

Her smile falters as she grabs the empty beer bottles before nodding.

"Lucky girl." She says and you snort before looking up at her.

"You don't know the half of it." You deadpan, earning a loud laugh from the younger best friend on your right.

Dean doesn't even watch her walk away, he plays with the laces of your boots as you continue to rifle through the papers.

"She was pretty." You comment as you turn your attention to him.

He looks up from your boots just to shrug, "Not in the mood." 

His brother lets off a low whistle as he leans his shoulder against yours, "Dean Winchester isn't in the mood? Has the world ended?" 

You giggle at his joke while his older brother grimaces. 

"Shut up." He mutters.

"Here you go. Three whisky and cokes." The waitress says as she begins to take them off the tray.

"Thank you swee-" He stops himself short before looking at Sam, who gives him a teasing smile as you put down the two photos of the victims on the table.

"Oh my Gosh. Those are the victims, aren't they?" The waitress whispers quietly as she leans against the booth.

"You know them?" Sam asks as he pushes his hair back.

"Of course. We haven't had murders or prostitutes for a long time around here." You sit up straighter, pulling your legs from Dean's lap.

"A long time? Online it says you never had any." You ask, tilting your head.

Dean sips his drink, staring at you instead of the waitress.

It's cute when you become interested in information, the way your shoulders straighten and your neck sticks out just a tad.

"Well yeah. The mayor probably doesn't want people to know that his grandmother was actually a prostitute. Or so they say." You hum intrigued as you pick up your drink.

She notices how keen you are and continues to speak, angling her body towards you.

"Apparently back in the early nineteen hundreds, there were prostitutes on that very corner. The mayor's grandmother being one of them. There was a guy named Morley Rosmund that had sex with one of the women from the corner behind his wife's back and she got pregnant. When he told her to get rid of it, she ended up killing him. She had sex with him first and then put his body through a woodchipper. Only up to his pelvis though and then she left him. Since then, all prostitutes have been disappearing on that corner for years." You nod at the story, your eyes flickering to Dean as he shakes his head with a wry chuckle.

"And no one talks about this?" Sam asks as she stands back up.

"You just need to talk to people that do know the tale, I guess." She says with a shrug before nodding to a group of people that call her from the other side of the bar.

"Well I'll be damned." Dean lifting his glass.

"Cheers." You say before clinking glasses with the both of them.

"Guess I'm putting on a dress tomorrow." You mutter as you write down the dead man's name.

"Can't wait to see how uncomfortable you get with that." Dean jeers with a laugh as he picks your legs back up and puts them on his lap.

Raising an eyebrow, you watch as he strokes the leather of your boots.

"It's comforting." He mumbles before finishing his drink with one large gulp.

Yeah, it is comforting.

Forever Dean Tags: @akshi8278​

[realmonsterboyhours]

Anguism (GodNaga!Beej Lore Post)

This is something I’ve had in the works for a while. I wanted to expand on GodNaga!Beej’s lore, and the religion practices Scarabee would use. Please note that this is a false practice, created so we wouldn’t end up offending anyone who practices real religion when we talk about Scarabee. Everything you will need will be below the cut! Trigger warnings: Mention of blood, mention of violence.

Anguism- A religious belief system worshiping Betelgeuse/Beetlejuice, an eldritch abomination. Also known as a “God of serpents”

(Anguis = Snake/Serpent in latin since he predates christ)

Origin of Betelgeuse:

Born from the explosive creation of the second brightest star in the constellation Orion, Betelgeuse was the product of a spare fragment of the star colliding to the planet earth which had disrupted a snake den. Thousands of years later an earthquake shook the remains free from the rubble of the long-forgotten den. What was released was a horrific creature, half-man, half-snake.

In his search for purpose, the beast found refuge in cave systems where he resided for thousands of years that unbeknownst to him was rather close to where a small settlement of early humans would eventually reside. Revered for his strange shape, and his immense power it wasn't long until the locals had begun seeking him out for protection and prosperity.

In return for their praise and sacrifices, he offered the humans protection, and for centuries he served them. Night after night he would watch out for the members of their small town, returning children lost in the forest, blessing crops, and livestock. The people worshiped the serpent for generations, passing beliefs, prayers, sacrifice ideals, and the likes down from father to son and so forth.

As time moved forward and with the rapid spread of Christianity, the few faithful followers took to his shrine where they wrote everything they could in books, scrolls, and tomes. The history, and practice all were archived and stored in a small temple where worshipers would come to pray or leave their offerings.

Misfortune struck the village when they were attacked, raided for their ‘false God’, and the settlement was burnt to near ashes. All remaining members of the religion were taken by those who lead the raid, never to be seen again.

In a furious rage, the serpent emerges, thus begins a great wipe of carnage and destruction. The snake god had taken on a form even his most devout followers would likely have not recognized. Those who witnessed it had gone mad, or simply dropped where they stood, their minds not able to comprehend what they had seen. The rage took place for days, those who were ordered to try and subdue the monster lost their lives, like lambs to slaughter until the great beast settled after day three.

Shocked and appalled by the state he found his beloved village, he retreats, with the last of his strength he retrieves the books and scrolls and hides them away within his own temple, protected with the last of his magical ability before he collapses, only to wake seasons later bound in chains to a large pillar in the broken remains of his once-grand temple’s atrium, where he remains, locked and powerless for centuries, hidden away in the ruins of his only home, defeated and left with the weight of guilt of his followers' lost lives and his inability to protect them.

Practice Belief:

The main focus of his belief is based on trust, blind obedience, and sacrifice. In return, you receive a benevolent God, and those who earn his favor will be gifted with immortality, or an afterlife to serve him.

Worshipers:

Anyone can worship this God, but the hidden knowledge often times makes it nearly impossible to hear of or practice so the religion is quite small. Worshipers gain favor over time in their trust, tasks given to them by the beast. Sacrifices and gifts are also required. This ‘level’ makes the majority of his worship. Most followers of his fall under this category. In basics, you simply serve him, and in return, he will help when called upon.

Devotees:

Devotees are a group of individuals that have earned his respect. These individuals are blessed with the ability to see their God first hand, or may be requested or summoned when he may need. He may telepathically visit these followers with insight to their future, if they are in danger, or other things similar.

Marked:

Also known as ‘priests’ of his religion.

Those who are marked have earned his highest favor. In a way, he has claimed them with a mark that will bond those marked with him forever. Those who are marked may expect eternal life serving him. Those who are marked would be offered the knowledge written in ancient times. Special powers would be granted, typically powers manipulating shadows, or altering one’s own body are gifted. “Priests” or those who are marked will be taught the serpentine language that is exclusively distinct to the beast. Only the most devout, trusting, and self-sacrificing would ever be considered to be marked.

Tools of practice:

Tools of practice are very aligned with an eclectic pagan. Divination tools and ceremonial daggers are primarily used tools. Presents and gifts from the beast should also be used in practice, including protective jewelry and collars from him. The use of alcohol is also strongly suggested, and nearly every spell, and offering to the serpent includes dark alcohols. Of all tools used it is important to note that intent, trust, and faith will always be the backbone of this religion. Those who cannot simply trust cannot worship this deity.

True magic versus spell working:

There is a stark difference between true magic, and spell working within this religion.

Spell working can be done within any level of this worship. Spell working would include making things like spell jars, candle magic, divination, offerings and prayer.

True magic is only accomplished by those with the serpent’s mark. Users of true magic are gifted from the serpent himself and typically have abilities that control shadows, or manipulate their own form at will.

Common historical offerings for Beetlejuice:

-Gold, jewelry, coins, money, jewels. -Small offerings of virgin blood. He was known for feeding directly from them or through small vials. -Livestock, raw red meat, hearty breads -Alcohol -Personal letters of devotion -Acts of devotion could be protecting those at risk, protecting and caring for the shrines, caring for snakes.

Common modern offerings for Beetlejuice:

-Dark alcohol. -Red meats and hearty breads. -Coins and special trinkets. -Acts of devotion include protecting those in need, caring for snakes, and if allowed visiting him, or communicating with or praying to him.

Common themes or repeating imagery: 

-Snakes, crows, beetles -Green, black, white, gold -Elements of earth and fire -Bones and ash/soot -Mist/fog -Autumn -Bogs and open fields -Shadows -Broken glass/chains/broken stones -Old books -Dark blood like that found in veins -Things repeating in threes -Ouroboros

The mark

Being marked by the serpent God is something akin to a marriage but not in the traditional ideas. It binds you two forever, it shows both himself and the recipient just how much they mean to one another. The mark is given usually in private, a small ceremony between the two may be held, usually pertaining to drinking, sharing a meal, sharing some form of promises and then finally the mark is given when the serpent bites you and pours some of his own power into the recipient. The mark heals quickly and the bite leaves a very small marking of a snake on the skin of the one he marked, that spot will work as not only his vow to you but when either party touches the mark the other will feel a warm feeling spread from it. It can be used as a sort of built in security system that the God uses to warn the recipient of danger. Very few have ever been marked, he does not take it lightly.  In current official lore Scarabee Shoggoth is the only surviving marked/priest, and in the past only three others had ever been marked who were taken away during the attack on his temple. He to this day does not know what happened to them, their marks have long since gone cold, and their life force had gone during his years of unconsciousness. He mourns them greatly and every 100 years on the anniversary of what he presumes are their deaths he pays respect to his lost followers.

Information about Betelgeuse/Beetlejuice himself.

Appearance:

His most typical appearance is as naga, about a 10 foot tall. His tail is thick and constrictor like, black and white stripes that are slightly iridescent in certain lighting, with black ventral plates. His upper body is large, he has quite a bit of muscle from the way he moves around, large arms, broad shoulders, and well defined back muscles. His chest is also quite strong. His stomach has a lot of muscle but a thick covering of fat that makes him look quite chubby. He has long black hair that falls down past his shoulders and chest, usually to rib length. Can be straight or wavy and messy. His hair is styled in a half shave with a few braids that are beaded with gold. His ears are pointed, he has two small black horns on the top of his head that curl in and back. He's got several piercings, and wears almost exclusively gold and emeralds. Around his waist is a black and white striped cloth that he can be drawn without.

It should be mentioned that he can control his form at will. He can make himself smaller, bigger, human, naga, snake, or otherwise strange monster form that is unfit for human eyes.

In his human form he is tall, similarly shaped as his naga form in terms of body size. He typically wears dark colors, favoring blacks, gold, and dark green or jewel tones. His hair is still long, coming to about his collar bone.

Personality:

Rough, abrasive, and more than a bit full of himself. He can be selfish and jaded, he's quick to anger, and he's quick to punish. He very much embodies the act first and ask questions later. He can be a bit quick to jump to conclusions and can be very hard to get to know. Can be quite a trickster, often cat-like and chaotic. He gets a sick rise out of terrifying newcomers just for fun.

Things to consider for self-ship:

Obviously this is completely open ended for you the reader/viewer/shipper to do whatever you wish with the story or ideas you have, but these may help you make some decisions!

He is meant to sort of have a pre-existing relationship with Scarabee. They are in fact some sort of romantically inclined. Proving your loyalty to Scarabee would likely bleed over to the deity over time. Self shipping with Scarabee and GodNaga!Beej as a poly deal is a common mode for sure, however, if poly isn’t your thing or you don’t want to ship with Scarabee at all, you could just as well meet him without Scarabee’s help. He’s open ended for the ease of the reader to write/draw/hc/or do whatever they want. It’s also important to note that while he is rough and abrasive, he is not incapable of feeling emotions like love, and lust and the likes, he us just far less likely to experience it than others might. He tends to get a bit confused by affection, and isn’t quite sure what to do with it, but it IS a massive ego boost for him.

Trivial facts:

-We nicknamed him ‘Snubban’ for “Snake Husband”. -He has a potent aphrodisiac venom. -He can and will give you a golden collar or bracelet if you don’t want to be marked, or just if you offer yourself to him. -Nicknames from him are typically akin to small animal names like “Rabbit” “Mouse” “Little Pet” “Lamb” etc. -He does in fact shed! Usually once a year, often gets real bratty and princess-like, making Scarabee come down to help him with the shed since it’s so itchy. -He usually stays within his temple, but he does in fact visit the estate as an extended universe character, and also has been known to simply venture out to see what humans are up to in his human form sometimes. -Scarafaggio and him would have crossed paths in their time on the earth. We’re still ballparking ideas on that. -My HC for his voice would be similar to Thresh from League of Legends. -

[figure-skating-watch-party]

Channel 1 Trophy

I watched Channel 1 Trophy (not the jumping tournament though), I mean just and only the performances, to spare myself seeing any possible drama or  Yagudin’s embarassing behaviour. And of course downloaded all the cute friendship gifs afterwards ;) 

PAIRS

It’s unbelievable how amazing Russian pair skating is. Also the added tension thinking that this competition will play a role in determining who’ll go to Worlds... Stressful, stressful, worrying about kittens (B/K) so much but also amazing to watch.  

Boikova/Kozlovski - Star of captivating happiness / Writing on the wall The throw in the short has been giving them trouble lately. But I love the kittens so much! And woooow, trying 3S - 3S in the free. And all the throws were great. 

Mishina/Galliamov - Esmeralda / Bohemian Rhapsody Showmens in the making. The throws, amazing spins to the music, and woow they are doing 3S - 3S. 

Pavliuchenko/Khodykin - Sing, sing, sing / SOS d’un terrien un detresse These programs are such a great choice for them. They are getting better at interpretation and at being more open. I love their lifts, and how Denis literally throws Daria down and between his legs on the ground. 

Tarasova/Morozov - Bolero / Adagio Maybe it’s because Sergei Voronov joined their coaching team ;)  but I’m beginning to like them. Undoubtedly their elements are world class but I’ve never been convinced by their programs. But now I’m beginning to see the performance, the interpretation.

LADIES

I usually don’t watch ladies, and Russian ladies even less so (unless it’s Zhenya or Sasha T.) Because all the quads, coaching drama, early retirements are not fun. And with “usually don’t watch ladies” I mean I-can-count-on-one-hand-how-many-times-I’ve-seen-eg. Anna S-level of not watching. So I’ll talk about ladies more generally than about other categories. 

Kamila Valieva - Storm / Bolero Daria Usacheva - Moulin Rouge / Romeo & Juliet Maia Khromykh - I’ll take care of you / Agony suite Anna Shcherbakova - O deux printemps / Morning passages

I’ve seen Kamila, Daria and Maia for the first time ever. And I have to say I liked their SPs quite a lot. Though the FPs seemed all a bit similar, even though the music was different... I really loved Kamila’s SP and her spins. (The FP could be renamed High kicks everywhere, though...) I really liked the way Daria moved on the ice and also appreciated that Maia’s SP music was a bit more modern. Anna is really nice to watch, so musical.

Alexandra Trusova - Love story, Appassionata / Romeo & Juliet I love her SP and now I think her FP has also improved a lot during the season. Her spins are also good. 

Elizaveta Tuktamysheva - Lovely / Chronicles of a mischievous child Liza truly is the empress. Really I admire how herself she is. When it comes to even just costumes, program changes adventures ;) continuing her career...

ICE DANCE

I loooooove everyone. 

Zagorski/Guerreiro - The greatest showman / Survivor Their skating is a great, engaging show without being theatrical though. Twizzels so good. 

Morozov/Bagin - Too darn hot / Terra rossa I don’t know... one of the few teams I feel no connection with. (No idea if it’s because I’m negatively biased because of their coach or for some other reason). But I have to admit that the FD really suits them. 

Skoptsova/Aleshin - Bonnie & Clyde / Never tear us apart They spark! They changed from one season to the other so much. I remember watching Fournier-Boundry/Sorensen’s amazing Bonnie & Clyde RD last season thkinking they were so much better. And now? Skoptsova/Aleshin are much more mature than last season, every movement is done precisely. Yes, I love them more and more. And so powerful in the FD. 

Shevchenko/Eremenko - Burlesque / The Illusionist Also yess yess yess! Their power. And the hydroblades in the FD

Stepanova/Bukin - Moulin Rouge / Cry me a river I have to admit I’m a bit confused? Did they change the music a bit? And no dramatic pause in the middle of the RD? I feel robbed (mainly of smiling at the confusion when half of the spectators thinks it’s the ending pose and begins to clap). But anyway, this program is 100 % drama and I like it. The FD idk... I don’t like it that much. But what I do like are all the lifts in the FD. 

Khudaiberdieva/Bazin - The Artist, Sing, sing, sing / Experience I like this team so much. Liza is a star. I really hope they’ll have much success in the future. I think that paradoxically this season was a blessing in disguise for them. It was Liza’s first season in seniors, their first season together and I think it was beneficial for them that they could participate in a lot of domestic competitions without too much pressure. I especially like their RD. The rotational lift at the end is awesome. 

MEN 

Mikhail Kolyada - Let’s get loud / The White Crow There’s nothing to say. I love the SP and I cry whenever I watch the FP. It’s a masterpiece. And Misha is getting comfortable again with the quads and added 4S! Yesss King.

Dima Aliev - Masquerade Waltz / L’immensitá This time not only return to the SP but also to the costume. And it was great (ignore the fall in stsq). Funny thing, Dima changed costume for the FP and suddenly I think it suits him more. Good job!

Makar Ignatov - I can’t go on without you / Je suis malade His 4Lo  [insert hearty eyes here] 

Mark Kondratiuk - Summertime / A Swan in born So cool and free in the short, it’s like a party on the ice. And an amazing FP. (We are all Zhenya, crying)

Andrei Mozalev - Sadeness Part 2 / The man with a harmonica He was so upset at nationals (and the camera man was filming him all the time) and that means that now he’s my baby. And he fought!

Sasha Samarin - Polushko polye / Keeping me alive My Sasha T_T I really hope he keeps his SP for next season because it’s a program he’s comfortable with. The step sequence is great. And he’s also improving in the FP... But he’s been injured, the jumps are not as secure as they were... To be honest, it’s quite clear that Sasha won’t be going to Worlds so he deserve some rest (and it’s been confirmed that he’s not going to Russian Cup finale). 

[honeylikewords]

Can I request David for the prompt? Who takes care of whom on sick days, brings the other lunch, and brings up having kids if that’s okay...

Sure thing!

Who takes care of whom on sick days?:

It’s a pretty even split, actually, but David tends to have the stronger constitution in the couple-- cold and flu season seem to skate past him year after year, most unfairly-- so he is often the one taking care of his wife, and he doesn’t mind in the least.

It might not seem the case, given his stature and previous less-than-gentle employ, but David has a deep-running caring streak and a natural inclination towards mother-henning. He tends to fret over his wife whenever she’s ill (he always feels like it’s the end of the world and worries himself sick over her, hour after hour) and it ends up being that David’s poor wife will have to comfort him into calmness even when it’s her throwing up her guts or delirious with fever.

Still, David will sit by her side, massive paw wrapped around her small, clammy hand, daubing her forehead with a cool cloth, bringing her drinks and propping her up on comfy pillows. He’ll cook her up a hearty stew-- his own recipe!-- and slowly feed it to her himself, hands as gentle as he can make them as he holds the spoon to her lips, regardless of her insistence that she can feed herself.

He doesn’t like to talk too much when she’s sick, concerned that his voice might bother her, but she often asks him to read to her when she isn’t well; television can be too loud and too bright and too distracting, but his voice, low and deep and steady, always calms her. And David has never been one to deny her what she wants, after all, so he’ll fetch a book from their home library and take up a seat beside her and begin reading, his tone constant and hushed.

He likes to read from relatively simple books like “The Little House On The Prairie” and “The Princess Bride”; relaxing stories, familiar, welcoming. She also likes to hear old Dickensian stories in his voice, though he sometimes struggles with the more antiquated language, so she reserves that kind of request for when he’s feeling especially loquacious (and generous).

Thankfully, she’s never contracted anything too severe, so after a few days of tissues and sweat and maybe a little throwing up here and there, she’ll be back to her old self and David’s anxieties over her will begin to abate. Still, he kind of enjoys nursing her back to health, and will continue to pamper her a bit, even after the illness has subsided, if only to have the joy of taking care of her. He can’t help it; it’s so cute when she lets him feed her!

Who brings the other lunch?:

David’s wife likes to bring him lunch; the fella works really, really hard in the outdoors for nearly the whole day without taking any real breaks (aside from sitting down to drink some water every few hours), so she’ll go out and find him and bring him a sandwich and some soup in a thermos and try to bring him home with the promise of even more lunch back there. More often than not, ever the unrelenting adorer of his bride, David will give in and come back with her for a good meal.

When he can’t be lured home, she’ll accept and make sure to square up a hefty dinner so that he can make up for lost calories later when he comes home.

Inversely, if David’s home and his wife is working on something, he’ll come find wherever she is and slide her a bowl of something delicious-- he’s taken to making his own pasta and sauce from scratch, which is just magnificent-- and happily sit at her side and make sure she eats it all. It really makes him happy to know she’s healthy and fed, and even happier to know she’s enjoying something he made for her himself!

Who brings up having kids?:

David’s wife, if only because she’s the more talkative of the two. David’s wanted children since he was old enough to hold a baby in his own two hands, and it’s always been part of his dream to be a father, someday, so a major dynamic in David choosing his life partner is knowing that they, too, want kids.

Still, he waited quietly for her to bring it up of her own accord, not wanting to push the envelope or seem too desperate or out of line by asking about her intentions with having children, patiently twiddling his thumbs and hoping she’d pick up on his “subtle clues” (such as leaving magazines open on diaper ads, watching movies about families or expecting parents, pointing out little babies in public, admiring maternity clothes or picking up baby clothes and cooing over the smallness).

Of course, she could tell right away that this gentle giant who was always sticking his face into baby buggies to see the little one within and waving at toddlers and weeping to himself at commercials showing eeny weeny newborns in their mothers’ arms was a man who wanted children, and it just naturally came up through the course of their conversations.

She brought it up fairly early in the relationship one day when they were sitting at a cafe, David cramped into a tiny bistro seat and clutching at an embarrassingly small coffee cup. They watched a mother bouncing a tiny little baby on her knee and David’s beloved made a soft “oh” sound, putting her hand to her chest and smiling.

“Look at that little angel,” she said, gesturing at the baby who was now making exploratory squeaks as they reached wrinkled little hands up at their mother.

David whipped around in his chair, excited, and caught a glimpse of the baby as they stretched their absolutely minuscule arms up over their head. He made a low, happy hum, turning back around with warmth in his expression.

“I just love babies,” she began, swirling her spoon in her drink, trying to seem casual. “Their tiny rolls, their bitty noses, those cute sounds they make...”

David nodded in agreement, his smile spreading.

“Their big eyes,” he added, voice craggy and textured from underuse.

“Oh, absolutely! I hope someday I have a baby as sweet as that,” she mused, giving her aloof act her best efforts. “It’d be wonderful, wouldn’t it?”

A pinkness filled David’s cheeks and his eyes skirted quickly between her face and his hands as he began to nervously trace the rim of his mug, a wiggly smile presenting itself on his lips as he did his damnedest to suppress it. Nodding, he cleared his throat slightly.

“I’d like lots of little ones, someday,” he rumbled, cheeks turning from pink to red from the strain of trying to keep his manners in check. 

“W...Would you?”

She reached over and slipped her hand over his, stroking his scarred knuckles affectionately. He looked up and locked eyes with her, melting as she gave him a reassuring nod, conveying all her love through her gaze as she delivered a squeeze to his palm.

“I’d love that,” she answered.

His whole face turned a burning, incandescent red, and his grin bloomed to take up all the real estate it could as he shyly looked down at their hands and squeezed back.

She was the one, and he knew it, right then and there. And he knew it over and over again, renewed with each passing day, and realizing it twofold, tenfold, a hundredfold when they did, one day, have their own little ones.

Thank you for requesting my dearest David!

(Prompts came from this list!)

[icanbehardcore]

Top 10 WORST Powerpuff Girls Episodes

For a long time, I have been wanting to make a project resembling a countdown list, being inspired by the likes of @umbramagna777​, @phantomstrider​ and even the Nostalgia Critic. After some considerate years, I have finally decided to make a list based on my all time favorite show The Powerpuff Girls.

Cartoon Network's breakaway hit of the late 90s and early to mid 00s starring three adorable, precocious little kindergartners with superpowers was a cultural phenomenon. Spawning hundreds and thousands of merchandise, a theatrical film, several TV specials, an anime and a reboot, it's unbelievable that a cartoon with an all female lead would become an icon in the cartoon industry.

Created by Craig McCracken fresh off two pilots in the "What A Cartoon" shorts and evolving from the earliest incarnation "Whoopass Stew", The Powerpuff Girls became the highest rated cartoon debut at the time. Critics praised this show for being so unique, entertaining, epic, action packed and nothing like anything else at the time, but most of all, this show was very, very funny.

But that doesn't mean this show gets all the glory and praise 100% per episode, like every television show, there will always be flaws and bad episodes and, the Powerpuff Girls is no exception when it comes to rotten entries in the line-up.

Whether you like these episodes or not, remember to respect each other's opinions, including mine. If you like these episodes, that's great, you're more than welcome to have your say, but be nice.

I am only counting down episodes from the ORIGINAL series, this won't include the movie, the anime, the Dance Pansted special, The tenth anniversary special, the christmas special or especially the reboot.

Mixing either of these up would be one big mess and would derail my points of view. With that being said, let's begin.

NOTE: Spoiler alert ahead.

 10. Keen on Keane   This episode was a new era for the original show, it had a new art style which was first introduced in the movie. So if you hadn't seen it, you would have had to get use to this new art style before getting puzzled or confused.

Unfortunately, these episodes were somewhat mediocre and after 2002, show creator Craig McCracken left the show to Chris Savino, so he could work on Foster's Home for Imaginery Friends. Usually when this happens, that's a sign of a show losing it's...err...Mojo. No pun intended. For a first of this newly animated version of the show, this episode is just ...well...sappy.  

So what's the story: It's Valentines Day...oh boy, what a way to start the new era of an already great show. I am NOT a fan of this holiday whether I'm taken or not. I prefer to keep romance and affection personal.

While receiving various little Valentines from her beloved students, Ms. Keane gets the one simple innocent question asked by the girls: "Where are you going out tonight?" and "Who's your sweetheart?" (don't you just love precocious little questions coming from kindergartners). Ms. Keane explains to the girls that she doesn't have time for going out on dates and is too busy for that sort of thing, this leaves the girls slightly worried, knowing she may be lonely and in need of a significant other half.

Later that evening, the girls are all at dinner with the Professor whose attention prompts the innocent, curious little question from an inquisitive Blossom "Why aren't you going out, tonight?".

Personally, if he WAS going out, he may need to hire a babysitter for the girls and knowing the Professor, he may end up calling someone but being delayed or on hold due to everybody with their arms round each other, making googoo eyes and lip wrestling all evening as they bask into their romance.

Anyway, the Professor tells the girls that HE doesn't have time for dates or going out, nor does he have a sweetheart...(hope he hasn't forgotten the events a long time ago when meeting Ima Goodlady who turned out to be using him and was revealed to be Sedusa).

On hearing this, the girls trade rather sly and calculating looks to each other, a plan has hit them. If their father isn't going out and doesn't have a sweetheart and Ms Keane doesn't have a sweetheart, why not get them together for date?

At Ms. Keane's place, she is busy grading homework. On hearing the doorbell ring, she goes to answer the door only to recieve a love letter from a secret admirer and a rose. Oh bittersweet cliches...

Round the same time, the Professor too recieves an identical love letter from a secret admirer (by the way, I do love how he recieves a red rose and Ms Keane recieves a pink rose).  The two admirers meet at "Petes-A Pizza", an obvious parody to Chuck E Cheese, you can just feel how out of place these two are.

Not to hurt each others feelings, the two adults try to strike a conversation, but seem to show no interest in each other, all they can do is slap on a plastic smile each.

As they try to communicate and interact more and order, Ms. Keane suddenly forces a hearty little smile, stunning and questioning the Professor. As she tells him to look behind him, he sees that his own daughters are hiding in the large ball tank, this catches on as both Ms Keane and Professor Utonium have realized that they had been set up.

Unfortunately, the evening was unsuccessful and the Professor offers his date a ride home with three dejected little girls in the back. Their high hopes sunk to the bottom, gone down like a ship, but the Professor tells them if they did end up going out, then he wouldn't have enough time to spend with his own daughters. As he walks her to her door, Ms. Keane trips on a crack, the Professor immediately dashes forward to catch her. After bewilderment and indecision on what to do next, Ms Keane and the Professor's hearts become intertwine. As they stand up straight, they both share a nervous laugh while blushing (by the way, I find this scene amazingly cute, I mean...the Professor here is just...OMG, how can you not just want to reach out and dive into his arms...ahem...).  Finally,  they hold hands and are somehow...in love. Also note this is the only time in the episode where they see each other  face to face. Feeling accomplished, the girls smile knowing that their mission is complete . The following morning, the girls notice that not everything is all hunky-dory! Now having a significant other half, the Professor neglects his family duties and lab work and Ms Keane neglecting her school duties and even forgetting to feed her cat. Why? Because the two most important role models in the girls' lives are now sickeningly sweethearts talking to each other endlessly on the phone together, complete with EVERY single sentence ending with a mushy pet name. And you know what? It's really degrading! Also that phonebill must be really expensive by now,

Because of the neglection, the girls don't know what crimes are being caused....seriously, not even watching the news? Also, doesn't Ms Bellum have a light for a signal? Why couldn't she  just set that up in the sky for them?

But no! Instead, Sara Bellum gets kidnapped while the conversation continues until the Mayor sneezes, causing the couple to realize that they were holding up phoneline and neglecting their duties, including feeding the cat. This upsets the Professor and complains about the past event where a cat made him jump off a building which somehow, Ms Keane doesn't believe and causes them both to suddenly break up. Hmm...like every other couple today right? Okay that was bad.

Overall, this was a weak episode with no crime fighting at all and for a new start of upgraded animation, this was pretty bad. Especially being a Valentines themed episode.

9. City of Clipsville  I ought to let you know that seasons five and six sucked. Big time and this episode is no exception. I am not much of a fan of clip shows and this one was really weak, lame and the repetitive dialogue is as entertaining as a stale book made for toddlers. "Remember when Mojo Jojo turned us into dogs?"...umm...yeah? There's like two episodes with pretty much the same chunks of animation of it and it doesn't help that they referenced BOTH episodes! Also, did we really want to be reminded of some of the more mediocre episodes?

Mind you, most of these little trips down memory lane never happened. These include The Professor marrying Ms Bellum...for some reason, the girls losing their superpowers without realizing until they fall off a building...the Professor turning the girls AND all of Townsville's citizens into helpless infants...(no, seriously...make way for cliche'd moments whenever a baby is in a cartoon, which I'll get to later), complete with Blossom spitting up over the Professor's shoulder.

BUT the most most shameful fan-service cringe-worthy moment would have to be a quote on quote flashback of when the girls sped up time and became teenagers. Oh my god! Just...yeah. Complete with their midriff showing, slender figures, skinny jeans and stereotypical valley girl accents and mannerisms such as blowing bubble gum talking on their cellphones and ...discovering boys, teenage boys...in this case, the Rowdyruff Boys.

Yeah...remember when I said that the whole counterpart thing is a drag, well they do it here too. But this time, they are somewhat getting along, yet the girls are ditzier. I do love some of the hidden innuendos snuck in this scene visually and audibly.

Besides this episode being a weak one, I do admit that I like how the girls looked as teenagers, a bit two fan-service material-esque but still cute. I love how Bubbles still kept her pigtails in, but are a little longer, Blossom's red hair still makes me jealous *seriously...) and Buttercup growing out that little bob, it suits her.

Of course, I can't mention this scene without the fact that it was a reference to Craig McCracken's fan mail he was  receiving from fans about what would happen if the girls and boys were couples. He hated the idea so he decided to poke fun at this little trope.

Interestingly, there was going to be a scene that never made it, but there were storyboards lying around of the teenage girls becoming popstars...obviously a reference to the likes of Mandy Moore, Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera and other teen idols, maybe even the lesser known band that have since broke up, No Secrets.

The episode gets more stupid as everyone somehow ends up in the house until the episode ends which turns out to be filmed in front of a "live audience". Yeah, just...weak.

If you do like this episode, that's great, it does have a few funny moments but I still feel like it's just another cheap bland clip show.  

8. Neighbor Hood Good god was this episode lame? The moral was a good one I will admit, but first, the story...Bubbles rushes home from school in time to watch her favorite show: The Wondrous World of Whimsical Willy. Mr. Willy being the host of the show (and an obvious parody of Mr, Rogers) greets his audience warmly, at first, he seems like the typical friendly, harmless, yet unsettling kind of person on a kid's show. He never snaps, he's calm and mellow. But when Daydream Lane loses all of the happiness and joy, Mr Willy asks his audience to hand over all of their cash to him so they don't lose hope.

Being naive and simple, not wanting the show to fall flat with misery, Bubbles somehow breaks into the town hall and takes off with the money in the Mayor's vault and hands it over to Mr Willy and the rest of the crew on set. By the way, the Mayor also donated...yeah, he's a man child. lol

Meanwhile, back at home, after getting a phone call from the Mayor, Buttercup and Blossom notice their sister live on TV with a huge bag of money, thanking Bubbles, Mr Willy and his gang celebrate until Bubbles' sisters barge in telling Mr Willy to literally drop his act.

Sweaty and nervous, Mr Willy finally snaps and reveals his true plan to steal all of the money of Townsville, showing his true colors at last. Bubbles demands an explanation and tells her sisters that Mr. Willy isn't a crook, he just needed the money to help save Daydream Lane. Blossom isn't buying it and tells Bubbles that none of this is real and that the whole set is just canvas painted with scenery and backgrounds and the crew are all crooks in costume.

Now shocked and realizing she had been conned along with the rest of the those who donated, Bubbles loses faith in Mr Willy and the show and even refuses to save his fall. In case you might guess, Mr Willy is arrested and thrown in prison and Bubbles apologizes for her foolish act and also that she shouldn't believe on what she sees on television. In a way, this is a great moral for kids, especially when the main cast are kindergartners, but come on, the girls are more precocious than this, they are better than this. This is basically a weaker version of Film Flam.

This episode is really unsettling for many reasons.  Mr Willy asking for donations from little kids, isn't that a little creepy and somewhat makes him a pedophile? But to go as far as flying all the way to the set on your own and revealing the stolen cash is even more risky and dangerous.

I have read something interesting here from the PPG wikia, this episode was based real-life events in a 1965 New Year incident where Soupy Sales, miffed at having to work on the holiday, ended his live broadcast by encouraging his young viewers to tiptoe into their still-sleeping parents' bedrooms and remove those "funny green pieces of paper with pictures of U.S. Presidents" from their pants and pocketbooks. "Put them in an envelope and mail them to me," Soupy instructed the children. "And I'll send you a postcard from Puerto Rico!" He was then hit with a pie. He later admitted that he was joking and that the money would be donated to a charity, but Sales was negatively affected by the incident.

Also I learned that this episode was actually written back in 1999 as a season 2 episode, but was scrapped since the staff feared a lawsuit from PBS, so instead the story was given to DC Comics named Remote Controlled. The story was much better and less mediocre compared to this one. It's such a downfall when a great cartoon runs it's course and episodes that were originally written for the comics suddenly have elements thrown onto the screen and never live up to how they could have been.

There's something else I would like to point out here. I saw this comment on the PPG wikia by a user named Crossoverfan4ever and he pointed out that Bubbles commited a crime and got away with it, and did she get punished? Of course not, because she's, cute, innocent adorable, precious, sweet little Bubbles who can probably get away with murder if she tried.

So...in A Very Special Blossom, Blossom steals a rather valuable set of golf clubs and gets punished for it with 200 hours of community service, yet the Professor asks the cops to go easy on her and she's also sorry (seriously, you can feel her sorrow in her voice and that face just says it all).

In the fan-loathing controversial episode Moral Decay, Buttercup commits a crime by breaking into the local villains homes and steals their teeth for money from the "tooth fairy" after already beating up crooks for committing crimes. Her punishment: Ambushed by her worst enemies as her sisters sadistically watch her get beat up (note that Buttercup is a little girl, so can you imagine the pain inflicted on her?). Going back to Neighbor Hood, yeah, it's bad. One of season five's worst.

7. Crazy Mixed-Up Puffs

Season six was definitely the weakest link in the original show's run, so in a way, it's a breath of fresh air when McCracken and Savino declined a season seven from Cartoon Network (much to the disappointment to the fans).

CMUP just made way for some really weak points in writing and character development and derailment. Whichever one, even my feelings for this are mixed up...or mesed up. Whatever!  

In this episode, Mojo Jojo is watching old clips of the past fights and battles he has had with the girls and soon stops for an ice cream break. Unforunately, a little girl is in front of him and he deters her. As Mojo orders his three scoops (which happen to resemble the signature colors of the Powerpuff Girls), the little girl throws her ball at him, causing him to drop the ice cream onto the floor. As it does, Mojo gets an idea.

Mojo then goes home to his lair and creates a dummy of a girl calling for help, attracting attention from the Powerpuff Girls, they fly over to save her and are immediately caught in his trap.

The machine swirls the girls together, fusing them all into one and because of this, the girls find it hard to fly, spin and even keep their own balance, not to mention worsening their arguments every single time. It's really unpleasant to watch.

From here, the girls  now have to rely on each other with trust and work as a team to stop Mojo. After finally making their way to Mojo, they defeat him, destroying the fuse machine with a huge blast, but are still stuck together as one.

As they make their way back to the Mayor's office, they get Professor Utonium to try and seperate them. Feeling hopeless, the Professor breaks down into tears knowing that his daughters will never be the same, but they tell him that they don't mind being this close and reassure him that everything is going to be okay. The Mayor finds a thread from their fused dresses and pulls it which somehow...separates the girls restoring them to their glory. I do love when the Professor tells the girls that he loves them all, it's moments like this that always make the show great, it's too bad this episode suffered from mediocicy, unpleasant arguments and...this (Really? After all you've been through, you decide to add this in here?) NOTE: Never let Paul Stec or someone else write a Powerpuff Girls episode storyline which may result into tasteless immature fart jokes...speaking of which...

6. Reeking Havoc Season six...why? Why did you have to go with this crap? An entire episode about flatulence? Really? Okay, well silently but still visually. I for one don't care for this kind of humor, it's immature, lame, not funny, pointless and...just go watch South Park if you're into that stuff (by the way, I'm a huge fan of South Park, freakin' ironic I know! lol).

The Girls have just returned home from enjoying a beautiful sunny day in spring, admiring the fresh air until their noses are suddenly inflicted with the smell of something ...not so fresh, in this case, chili. Yep! Because how else are the writers going to come up with an episode which is ten minutes of fart jokes. Real mature. Not.

It turns out that the girls father Professor Utonium is cooking this...chili for the "2nd Annual Chili Cook-Off" in Townsville. The girls reluctantly try a sample, as expected by them and those watching, it doesn't go down well (we even see a shot of Buttercup losing it in the waste-bin). Worried that he may lose again, Blossom decides that they should tell the Professor, but her sisters object due to the year before, in which the Professor lost and broke down.

Later that night, the Professor still thinks his chili needs something extra...or should that be "x-tra"...with that, he adds a drop of Chemical X into the concoction. Sure, because somehow that works right? Also, maybe adding COFFEE into the chili is the reason it doesn't taste so good. Later on that night, the girls (one by one) also happen to put a drop of Chemical X in the chili.

The following morning during the annual chili contest, the judges (which happen to be Ms Keane, the Mayor and Sara Bellum) are trying out all the dishes that have been made for the event when soon, they try the Professor's chilli causing reactions that they never experienced before. With that, the Professor is declared the winner of the contest and is awarded the trophy and with that, the Mayor hands out free samples of the prize winning chilli.

What then follows is nothing but flatulent puns, visual and audible, one after the other while everyone's guts start growling and all that gas happens to escape and creates...a giant methane monster. No, seriously! A giant cloud made out of everyone's gas! What were the writers thinking, seriously? It's like they have watched Ren and Stimpy and got some ideas off there, no? 

The following day, the methane monster soon causes chaos all over Townsville and his stench is so unbearable that it causes everyone to feel nauseous and complain. This then causes the Mayor to call the girls and...*sighs*...watching them trying to fight off a huge flatulent monster is just...well...yeah. Lame.  

As if stinking up the city has already been done in season 2's Down and Dirty, but that as caused by Buttercup refusing to bathe, but nope, we get a full on episode with gastronomical proportions and bad jokes!

From here, we get some rather ridiculously stomach churning moments including the girls actually trying to suck the monster up...err...gross? So...after the mention of a "match", Blossom gets an idea and takes off and returns again in seconds with...a giant match...no seriously AND to make this episode even more cringy, she mentions that she got it from the same place where she got the giant jar in "episode two season one". Was that really necessary?

I don't wanna go on since its pretty cliche'd with the fact that entering a chili cook-off with an ingredient that happens to be linked to chaos, it's obvious what that equals.

This was a bad episode and I mean really really bad. GOLDEN RULE: Keep fart jokes off this show! Oh wait...the reboot pushed that further! *sighs*

5. Gettin' Twiggy With It Consider this the Pet Sitter Pat episode of The Powerpuff Girls. Nearly every character in this show is likable, funny, great, relatable and somehwhat a decent role model. All but one...that being a less major character: the girls class mate Mitch Mitchellson. A sadistic, nasty, evil, selfish, greedy, manipulative  child who takes pleasure in bullying his fellow...ahem...classmates. Think of him as the Nelson Muntz of Townsville. Think of him as Ren Hoek off Ren Seeks Help in Ren and Stimpy Adult Party Cartoon, or maybe even Stewie Griffin. In this episode, it's Friday and that means one of the kids has the responsibility of taking the class hamster Twiggy home. The girls volunteer, but somehow Ms. Keane chooses Mitch to look after her.

This episode is legimately painful to watch in my opinion. As an animal lover (especially hamsters) who hates animal cruelty to a degree couldn't even watch this. It isn't funny, isn't a pleasure to watch, it's just sick, twisted and evil, I'm glad though that the episode itslef wasn't treated as comedic, that would make me up this episode straight to number one in my opinion. Mitch apparently says he never owned a pet before, yet you can clearly see that he has a snake in the background, what the hell?

I like how when Twiggy becomes a vicious monster, the girls do their part to save him, but still teach him a lesson in harming little Twiggy. It's rare for an episode to be played out seriously for the most part, yet this is just so difficult to watch. Especially all the ways Mitch tortures the hamster.

Gettin' Twiggy With It is just nasty and an unwatchable episode. It's unpleasant, demented and just uncomfortable to watch. For a better review on this episode, I suggest reading this: https://www.deviantart.com/regulas314/art/1001-Animations-Gettin-Twiggy-With-It-517452789. He does great reviews and provides decent detail.

Overall, Mitch Mitchellson is hands down my most despised character in The Powerpuff Girls, maybe even worse than Princess Morbucks. And that's saying a lot. 

4. Girls Gone Mild I don't think there's one countdown of top ten worst PPG without this episode at least appearing on there. It's bad, the story, the premise, the fact that this episode was inspired by letters Craig McCracken received from parents thinking the violence was appropriate as a defence, pretty much the Three Girls and A Monster of the Chris Savino era. This episode is basically like a reminder that parents and legal guardians are the ones who should ultimately take responsibility for their children's actions instead of just blaming other people for it. But for what it is, it's not funny or entertaining and definitely one worth skipping. Need I point out that the two people of "P.A.P.P" (People Against Powerpuff Girls) were played by the same people behind the voices of Cosmo and Wanda from The Fairly Odd Parents?

But seriously, where do these two come from? Clearly not from Townsville otherwise they'd be more than happy to ask for the girls help, but no, instead they eat everything up with complaints and threaten to sue the Professor if the girls start using their superpowers again. I hate tropes like this, especially when we all know in the end, they go back to normal and do what they do best. Now if only they were kicking Stanley and Sandra Practice's butts instead.

3. Moral Decay *sighs* some of you have definitely seen this one coming but you can see why. It's one of the most unpleasant, mean spirited and degrading episodes of the Craig McCracken era. What were the writers actually thinking?

Buttercup's nothing but a straight up sadist in this episode, the moment those mouth muscles form a malicious slasher smirk, she has straight up changed in personality throughout the episode. After accidentally knocking one of Bubbles' teeth out, she learns of the "tooth fairy" bringing money in exchange for teeth under kid's pillows and what does she do? She constantly abuses Bubbles just to try and knock out her teeth.

First off, Buttercup may be tough, but she loves her sisters dearly and wouldn't think of abusing her own sisters for kicks. Sure she gets into scrapes now and then, argues and teases them, but she would never want to hurt them to this extent!

UmbraMagna's stated this before on YouTube but have they go something against Buttercup, did they hate her character? Why did she always get the rough stuff in punishment and treatment? Think about it? In Down and Dirty, she refuses to bathe and even gets kicked out the house until she gives in and is forcefully given a full scrub by her own sisters. In Cover Up, a whole opportunity is wasted  on a story that could have had a heartwarming peptalk scene between Buttercup and the Professor, there, Buttercup feels vulnerable without her security blanket. You gotta remember that she is a little girl, it's normal for someone her age to have a baby blanket.

Going back to Moral Decay, it's a terrible episode that's just painful to watch and do NOT get me started on the ending. The Professor at his most non-caring right here, not to mention that close out ending scene. As punishment, the Professor pays covers Buttercup's dental bills with the money she "saved". By the way, I suggest you check out @UmbraMagna's extended review on this episode. Since mostly I'd be shadowing and echoing what she has said, along with A Very Special Blossom in her top 10 worst PPG eps countdown.

2. Sun Scream/The City Of Frownsville I put these two together because...well, they both aired together, simple as, bit cheap and not so well explained or thought but what else. These two episodes are just torture! Despite being on different topics. 

First off, Sun Scream. This episode is just a chore to get though. The girls all catch the sun after refusing to put sunscreen lotion on while trying to stop a solar flare from plummeting to the earth. What do their fans and the rest of the citizens do? They laugh at them, instead of showing concern for three kids who have badly been sunburned. Just...what has happened to Townsville?

The rest of the episode is nothing but the girls struggling to get up out of bed and trying to answer the hotline, getting dressed to even struggling to attack some con artists. I won't spoil this episode but if you have made it through till the end then good luck, this one's just painful to watch.

Then we have The City of Frownsville. Although being dedicated to those who lost their lives during 9-11 (with all my respect, I pray now even). Despite this, this episode is nothing but everyone sobbing their eyes out for ten minutes. If you can't stand nails scratching on a chalkboard, then you will definitely not be able to make it through this episode.

All of Townsville's put under a spell by "Lou Gubrious" and his machine that causes everyone to cry uncontrollably, this then reverses his mood giving him the new name "Hal Larious" (please, seriously?), the rest...ugh.

Skip this one while you can guys.

Before I get to number one, I'd like to give out a few dishonorable mentions.

Cover Up - For shaming Buttercup being a softy. Also her sisters cruelly laughing at her. Twisted Sister - First off, I don't hate this episode as a whole, I don't like what they did with the new sister Bunny. She's unstable, but her slurred speech and lack of English, as well as dying in so called comedic fashion's a bit too much. Fallen Arches - Blossom's unbearable in this episode. Sure, we should respect the elderly but refusing to fight these crooks and throw'em in jail. Just...no. Sweet and Sour - Ugh, cutesey animals getting away with crime and the citizens are just as clueless because they are "TOO CUTE!". Come on! Pee Pee Gs - Unsettling and nothing but pee jokes. Umm...no, unfunny and a cringefest. Prime Mates - Mopey Popo's constant complaining and rambling in his Droopy-esque voice and the girls not having enough screen time make this a true downer. A Very Special Blossom - Ugh, one of the first of episodes where one of the girls does wrong and gets punished for it. In this case, Blossom's dark side shows when she steals a valuable set of golf clubs just to please the Professor for Father's Day. That's Not My Baby - Ah the baby cliche! Whether it's abandoned or just being looked after the whole package is there. The baby never stops crying, and when it eats, it's diaper needs to be changed yada yada yada, I'm sick of this cliche and this episode's no better. HOW did they not even notify the Professor even? I left it out of here because the ending was actually clever. Cop Out - Forgettable, bland and yeah. Unfunny, also that cop. Ugh. Custody Battle - Just doesn't feel like a PPG episode, but a Rowdyruff Boys spinoff. Also the whole two daddies thing...nah. Divide and Conquer - I know education and learning's important but an entire maths episode...nope. Save Mojo - I'm a bit of an animal activist, no lies but...a cartoon chimpanzee with constant diabolical plans to destroy the Powerpuff Girls and take over the world, that's different (plus a cartoon), and...yeah. Basically Girls Gone Mild with animal activists and protesters. Say Uncle - Absolutely forgettable and lame. Mizzen In Action - I love the Crack McCraigen pun name but over all, this swash buckling episode's one of the show's most forgettable episodes. Seed No Evil - Bland and boring and...seriously, what's this all about seeds in olden times? The City of Nutsville - Bubbles gets stung in the throat by a bee/wasp and her sisters actually laugh at her...messed up. Also, squirrel apocalypse. Insane. West in Pieces - Ugh...ancestors of the Powerpuff Girls? really? As if Seed No Evil was no better.

And the number one worst Powerpuff Girls episode is...

1. Toast Of The Town I HATE this episode! Talk about character derailment, especially when you're in the middle of season five. If you can get through this episode listening to the Mayor speak in the third person, good for you, because there's a lot of it and it's enough to make your eardrums split.

The Mayor has a huge craving for toast (say, at least SOMEONE now has a toaster unlike everybody in Too Pooped To Puff few seasons back) but his toaster is out of range, so he goes to the Professor to have it fixed. And with that, we get some of the most cringe inducing audio, lack lustered story writing and some of the most ANNOYING dialogue in any episode! The Mayor is basically nothing but...a child in a man's body here. The Professor won't fix his toaster because he's busy, but after more complaining from the Mayor, he gets on with the job and the Mayor is so impatient he asks in seconds if it's done yet...really? The Mayor is an idiot, that's for sure, but at least he means well and loves his city and job and looks out for the girls. BUT his stupidity here is both questionable, childish and dumbed down to a tee!

The Professor makes the Mayor wait somewhere in the lab which he does despite still dejected and impatient. What follows is...the Mayor curiously pressing buttons like a child and setting off an alarm and causing a huge explosion in the lab...err...is this Dexter's Lab or The Powerpuff Girls? Some weird pattern here! Anyway, the Professor then proceeds to let the Mayor stay put by putting him in a high chair...for...some reason...

Later on, the Mayor discovers a can of Chemical X and rubs some of it on his head thinking it's hair growth formula and...his entire body is now the size of King Kong, complete with a shameless parody to boot. I don't need to explain anymore of this.

Seriously? The Mayor's third person speech and childish behaviour here is some of the worst character derailment I've ever seen. As I said with Gettin' Twiggy With It, there's a more detailed review here by Regulas314: https://www.deviantart.com/regulas314/art/Animated-Atrocities-Toast-of-the-Town-475588395

There's no other way I can mention this episode without any...ahem spoilers, but I suggest avoiding it while you can. SERIOUSLY! This episode's unbearable!

Compare the Mayor in episodes like Uh Oh Dynamo, where he was against the girls having the city destroyed (even though it was the Professor making the girls use the Dynamo). Then compare him here...it's just painful. And with that, let me know what you think which episodes do you think are th eabsolute worst? 

[the-longest-summer]

Chapter one: In which spring arrives.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this.☀🌾💛

Spring: Day One

The earth was soft beneath his feet, the snow that once laid thick among the outskirts of the valley was slowly beginning to melt away, the remnants of the frozen blanket watering the slumbering foliage.

The young man took a deep breath, the air smelled of sweet wet grass and soil.

“Beautiful.” he thought happily to himself.

He came upon a small clearing, some snow still lay here and there as it made way for the bright green grass beneath it. 

  Lining the clearing were thick gatherings of trees and within them several paths that branched out in different directions.

Not many knew of this place, though he would admit he wasn’t sure how this small clearing came to be. But, Snufkin thought it better that way. To those who did know of its existence, it was considered a sort of waypoint between the Lonely Mountain, Moomin Valley, and the Witches Forest. A place where travelers could rest and sit awhile in the safety of the trees.

He looked to one path that lay to the far left of him, The branches of the trees that lined it hung oddly overhead, making a natural arch, the sight of it was a welcomed comfort to Snufkin.

“Nearly there.”

He took a step but stopped suddenly, his ears catching the sound of boots in the distance as they softly crunched the undergrowth.

He turned and waited, his eyes curiously scanning the trees. The footsteps drew closer, realizing that they were coming from the path he had just come down from. He confirmed the source of the noise as a figure emerged from the break in the trees, he let out a relieved sigh.

“Too-ticky?”

The burly woman paused abruptly, but visibly relaxed once she saw who had addressed her.

“Snufkin! Well, this is a surprise.”

The boy smiled as the other approached.

“I’m quite surprised myself. What brings you out here so early in the day? The sun’s barely risen.”

“I was doing an old friend a favor before I head over to Moomin House.” she stated as she motioned for them to continue walking.

Snufkin followed the two walking side by side as they continued to chat.

“You’ve arrived quite early yourself. No one has woken up yet. At least everything was very quiet when I came up here this morning.”

Snufkin shrugged. “It will be like that sometimes, I suppose. You yourself always say that nothing is ever certain. Even the comings and goings of old friends”

With an almost too hearty laugh that made the smaller of the two to blink in surprise, Too-ticky smiled thoughtfully at the ground.

“No, things are certainly never certain.”

It was Snufkin’s turn to laugh as They continued on, enjoying the sound of the breeze as it pushed through the trees.

“Tell me, Too-ticky.” Snufkin spoke up once again “How are you and Mymble doing?”

The stout lady sighed softly.

“Wonderful, really. I was able to make small repairs to the hut before the snow came in and I happily watched over her, My and Floren through the winter. As well as tended to Midwinter’s needs. It was actually quite lovely.”

Snufkin pondered a bit before responding. “Do you ever find it tedious, making yourself responsible for things? Both objects and people?”

The other shook her head “On the contrary, it’s quite satisfying. Experiencing winter in Mymble’s hut is just as cozy as watching it through the bathhouse but…now, it feels almost twice as important. You could say having someone to care for gives you a change in perspective. But, perspective changes from person to person, so I can see why you would wonder if it burdens me or not.”

Snufkin looked up to the sky.

“You’re so very wise, Too-ticky.”

“As are you, weary world traveler!” she replied, the two sharing a chuckle.

They fell silent once again, and soon they breached the treeline that skirted the whole of Moominvalley.

The sun was slowly peeking over the far cliffs that lined the beach. A soft yellow glow causing the dew covered meadows of the valley to sparkle.

And there, casting a tall shadow over the brook was Moomin house.

The two gazed a while. The scene, though familiar, captivating them in a trance.

“Home.” Too-ticky spoke softly.

Snufkin looked to her and then to the house that laid center in the large expanse of greenery. He sighed, gently lifting the brim of his hat so the new dawn could warm his face.

“Home.”

◆ ◆ ◆

“What are your plans for this year, Too-ticky?”

Snufkin asked.

Too-ticky hummed, her thoughts reeling in the possibilities.

“I plan to take a trip with the Mymble once the sun dries the water left by the snow. I want to show her something exciting. You know, an adventure.”

The boy gave her an inquisitive look. “What of little My and Floren?”

Too-ticky giggled.

“What about them? Little My isn’t so little. Your sister is old enough to take care of herself and you know Floren isn’t a child anymore either. She’s matured quite gracefully as she puts it. As you said, Snufkin. Things change.”

“I suppose so. Oh!” The young man came to a halt, Looking a bit sheepish.

“I’m sorry, my friend. I’m sure you have better things to do then walk me to my camping grounds.”

The other waved a dismissive hand.

“Don’t you concern yourself, Snufkin. I have one last thing to do before I return to my girls. Come, we’re almost there.”

She pressed on, Snufkin following close behind her.

◆ ◆ ◆

“Oh my, the snow really did a number on you didn’t it, old friend.”

Snufkin observed the bridge that stood above the small brook. The railing was hanging low to the planks that made up the walkway, it no longer able to support the weight of anyone looking to rest on it.

“Hmm, seems the middle support beam is also looking worse for wear as well,” Too-ticky observed from the nearby bank.

"I’m not surprised-“ she continued. "The snow fell almost twice as much this season than the last.”

Snufkin grabbed his bag from where he set it on the ground, hooking it over his shoulder once again.

“Nothing us and Moomin Papa can’t fix.” he stated, Snufkin found himself feeling sheepish once again.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to volunteer you for this as well.”

Too-ticky returned to the other’s side, giving him an understanding look.

“Not at all.” she began, “I think it’d actually be best if it was you, me and maybe some of the others who repaired it. Moomin Papa isn’t the spry young thing he used to be.”

Snufkin nodded. “Well…I better set up camp. Good luck with your task, Too-ticky!”

The older woman smiled.

“I’ll see you soon, Snufkin.”

She turned, beginning her careful trek across the bridge. Snufkin watched her in case of a sudden collapse. But, once she made it safely over without any trouble he returned his focus to pitching his tent.

◆ ◆ ◆

The house seemed quiet as Too-ticky approached. Her eyes roaming over the house and up to the highest window. She paused, her eyes taking in the sight of the slender rope ladder that hung from said window.

“Hmm.” She softly grunted before continuing on.

She gently pushed open the front door to Moomin house.

“Hello? Moomin Mama? Papa?” She walked into the empty front room, the furniture still covered in their protective linens. It was dark, the light from the doorway casted odd shadows around the room.

“Must not be awake yet..”

She smiled and rolled up her sleeves, taking her beret and carefully hanging it on the coat rack by the door.

“Better get to work then.”

◆ ◆ ◆

It wasn’t long until Too-ticky had all the sheets folded neatly on the window sill that overlooked the front yard.

She set herself to work, opening up windows to air out the large home and giving everything a soft dusting. She then went out to collect firewood from the small storage rack, There wasn’t much left after the midwinter bonfire but there was enough to sustain Moomin house for at least a week or two. Less wood also just meant more work for later. At least Moomin papa would have something to busy himself with.

She hauled an armful of logs into the kitchen, setting them by the stove before piling them neatly into the hearth below.

She dug around in her pocket before pulling out her flint and steel, carefully beginning the process of getting the fire going.

“Windows, furniture, fire..” she listed her tasks as she began to fiddle with her Flint.

‘Letter.’

She paused, her gaze rising to the ceiling as the sound of creaking floorboards could be hear from the rooms above. She smiled, turning her attention back to her work.

“This will be interesting.”

◆ ◆ ◆

It wasn’t uncommon for Moomin Mama to be the first to wake up.

She slowly rose and sat up in bed, stretching the knots out from her back.

She made a small reminder to herself to get another few pillows for her bed.

Slowly but surely she pivoted and gently planted her feet onto the floor, yawning quietly as she stretched once again. She scratched her nose and sighed softly, her eyes landing on the form of her sleeping husband.

She ambled over to his bedside, leaning in to gives his cheek a small kiss.

“Good morning my dear.” She whispered the only response from he still sleeping partner was a small hum before he shifted farther into the blankets.

She giggled and walked over to her mirror that hung above a small dresser, on the dresser lay a bowl, pitcher of water and a towel.

She examined herself, sighing tiredly while studying the small wrinkles around her eyes.

She emptied the pitcher of water into the bowl, setting the pitcher back down before she began freshening up. The cold water made her sputter slightly, laughing quietly and grabbing the towel once she was done.

She turned back to her bed as she began to dry her face. Taking a deep breath as she draped the towel over the railing of her bed.

She grabbed her apron and dressed, grabbing her purse before giving her love one last kiss.

She quietly closed the door to the bedroom behind her, beginning her journey down the many flights of stairs that lead to the bottom floors of her beloved home. Her mind began to fill with the possibilities of what she could make for breakfast. Something hearty and big she silently decided.

She stopped on the top of the second floor, her gaze floating back up to the floor above.

“Oh my…that’s right.” She said softly to herself, her heart grew heavy with worry.

“No.” she confronted herself.

“No, he’d want me not to worry. He’s…my he’s grown so much…”

She felt a smile pull at her lips as she let out a giggle, her heart becoming full as she continued her journey to the kitchen.

◆ ◆ ◆

Moomin Mama was met with bright morning light along with a small breeze floating through the open windows; the fresh smell of sunlight and dew filling her senses.

“Oh, how lovely…but, who-”

She heard the shuffling of feet, the sound catching her off guard. Her worry melted away instantly once she was met with Too-ticky’s comforting smile.

“Ah, you’re up. Good morning Moomin Mama!”

Mama beamed, walking over and placing a gentle hand on the Too-ticky’s cheek.

“Hello my dear, thank you so much for waking up the house.”

The younger woman smiled.

“Always happy to help, Mama. The fire in the kitchen has already been started, So you can start cooking whenever you like.”

“Oh thank you, dear.” She chirped, retrieving her hand.

Mama looked to the window that sat above the couch as another breeze blew through the home, her eyes full of worry and understanding

“Did he go alright? Too-ticky?”

Too-ticky stared fondly at her.

“He did. He’s going to do amazing out there, Mama. Traveling is always so fun. And to experience it first hand will do him good. Oh, by the way, Mama. Snufkin has also returned.”

“Snufkin?”

The blonde nodded and continued “I crossed paths with him as I was walking back. I walked with him here. He’s setting up his tent as we speak.”

“Mama?”

The two turned to the stairs as Papa made his descent.

“Good morning darling. How are you this beautiful spring day?”

Papa yawned, approaching the others.

“Mm, a bit groggy. Nothing a cup of coffee wouldn’t fix.” He was about to give his partner a peck before he took notice of their guest.

“Oh, Too-ticky! Oh that's right, Moomin…”

Mama placed a calming hand on her lover’s shoulder.

“No worries, Papa. He’s left before the sun and he’s well on his way. You should proud.”

He smiled, finally giving her a proper good morning kiss.

“Of course I am Mama, what Papa wouldn’t be proud of their son?’

Too-ticky smiled before gasping softly.

"Oh. Moomin Papa! I hate to bother you just as you’ve woken up, but-”

Papa blinked at the other.

“Whatever’s the matter?’

◆ ◆ ◆

Snufkin set a small pile of firewood down a few feet away from his tent. Arranging them appropriately to make a small campfire. He sat himself down at the entrance of his tent, his eyes glancing over to Moomin house.

"Hmm, I wonder if Moomin is awake…”

He questioned softly to the air around him, reaching into his pocket for his harmonica. He came up short, realizing that he had been leaving it with Moomin for the past couple of winters.

He instead reached for his pipe, tapping it on the grass to clean it of its old tobacco.

He reached for his pack, rifling around until he found a small folded up bundle of leather, he unwrapped it and began to stuff his pipe. Before he could light it he heard voices.

He turned and saw Too-ticky walking down the path from Moomin house with Moomin Papa in tow.

He placed the pipe between his lips, the end making a small ‘click’ as he gently bit down around it. He stuffed the match back into his pocket before getting up and walking over to the bridge to meet the other two.

“Oh. Hello Snufkin! Welcome back!” Moomin Papa called out.

Snufkin gave a small wave as he approached, removing the pipe from his mouth.

“And a good morning to you, Moomin Papa! Has Too-ticky told you about the bridge?” He followed along the bank as The other two stood aside to look over the damage.

“Oh, my-” The elder Moomin huffed softly. “Not as bad as I had imagined, but it still needs to be fixed.”

The troll looked over to the young man.

“You’ll be able to help us won’t you, my lad?” With a brisk nod, Snufkin silently agreed, allowing Papa to relax.

“Too-ticky? There’s a rather large wooden board that was left over from the housing repairs we did last summer. I believe it should be big enough to make a temporary bridge while we do the repairs. It’s leaning against the house by the cellar door if you’d be so kind as to bring it.”

Too-ticky nodded and hurried back to the house to retrieve it. Moomin Papa turned his attention back to the young vagabond, their eyes meeting in a respectful gaze.

“How are you, Snufkin? It’s good to see you’ve returned safely. Will you be kind enough to join us for breakfast?”

Snufkin chuckled, appreciating the warm welcome. “I’d love nothing more, Papa.”

◆ ◆ ◆

It took Too-ticky no time at all to carry over the wooden board.

With help from Snufkin, they managed to lay it steady among the grass, the makeshift bridge allowing Snufkin to cross over with ease.

“Perfect.” Moomin Papa reveled in his craftiness.

“Now then.” He turned to Too-ticky. “I don’t suppose you’d like to stay for breakfast as well Too-ticky? As always we’ve plenty of room at our table.”

“I’d love to Papa, but I must be getting back. Mymble will have gotten up by now. I’m sure We’ll have a lovely breakfast with her cooking.” Moomin Papa nodded.

“Oh, Snufkin-” The blonde turned to the young man, pulling out a small parcel from her pocket. “Here, before I forget.”

Snufkin removed his pipe once again, eyeing the package curiously.

“What’s this, Too-ticky?” He reached out his hand.

She placed it in his palm, Snufkin taking it carefully. It felt rather weighted for something so small.

Moomin Papa watched in anticipation, Too-ticky speaking up once again.

“This is my last task. I’ve been asked to deliver this to you before I went home.” She smiled and nodded to The two gentlemen.

“I’ll be seeing you both, I’m sure My and Floren will come by for a visit as well. Happy spring~” She happily sang as she began her trek home, leaving the two alone.

“Come along Snufkin, we can have some coffee and talk a while. I’m sure breakfast will be ready soon.” The elder patted the boy’s shoulder.

They walked up the path, Snufkin turning the parcel in his hand.

It was small but heavy, wrapped up neatly in a thick brown parchment and held together with a bit of twine. The most peculiar thing about it was that it was not signed. He��had an inkling of who it could be from, But-

“Something’s missing"

He whispered as he came to a complete stop at the foot of the steps, Moomin Papa already at the door before noticing the other’s pause.

"I’m sorry, Snufkin. Did you say something?” The question lined with concern as he studied the other’s body language.

“Moomin Papa…“ The young man started. "Is Moomin awake?”

Papa smiled knowingly. “From what I gather, he is.”

Another pause.

“Papa…”

The troll lifted a hand, the action causing Snufkin to grow silent once more.

“Come in when you’re ready. Breakfast and coffee will be waiting for you.”

The other’s words were soft and disarming. Snufkin watched as the other entered the home. His eyes landing back onto the package.

He turned and settled himself on the steps, his hand reaching for the once forgotten match. He strikes it and lights his pipe before extinguishing it.

He gives a few long puffs before letting the smoke seep slowly from his mouth.

He lifts the package up, gently pulling at the twine. It unravels easily with a small tug. He unfolds the parchment, his eyes growing wide at the sight of its contents.

“My Harmonica…?” He lifts the small instrument in, the metal warming his fingers slightly.

He examines the parcel once more, discovering a folded up correspondence within the parchment. He sets the harmonica down in his lap before removing the folded note. There’s only one page, but the letter was packed with neatly written words.

“Snufkin.

I hope this letter finds you well. By now you’ll have reached Moomin Valley and settled in for the year.

Things have changed this year, though, by now you’ll have probably figured this out.

I won’t be there to spend summer with you this time around, old friend. By the time you read this I’m sure I’ll have made it farther than I have ever traveled on my own. I’ve thought about this for a while…even as we spent time together last year.

I thought it was time for me to go out and see things for myself.”

Snufkin pulled in a long drag as he read the letter, the smoke trickling out of his nose.

“I know this all might be a bit shocking. Or, maybe you already knew that something like this would happen? You’re funny like that, always…knowing but not? I hope that makes sense…anyway.

Inside this letter will be your Harmonica. As I promised, I looked after it while you were gone, playing it as I thought of you through the short winter days. Will, you play it when you think of me?“

The boy let out a short puff of air, amused by the words.

"I hope you have a wonderful summer with everyone in MoominValley this year. May you catch all the fish you could ever want and be well.

I’ll see you come the fall season.

Your friend, Moomin.”

“Fall”

He read the word several times before setting the note aside, removing the pipe from his mouth.

He sat a while longer, the aftermath of his travel “Home” finally laying heavy in his legs. He took a deep breath, the smell of coffee and tobacco mixing together in the most pleasant way.

He was tired.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: From the news European countries have been easing the lock down but restaurants and cafes remain closed. So what do you do for food? Do you cook? Are you a good cook? Do you enjoy cooking?

You are right to say in Europe things have been easing up a little. However each European country is responding differently as things present themselves on the ground. In France and in Paris in particular the lock down has eased with shops re-opening and schools have limited re-opening. The shops allow a limited number of people in at any one time so there is a queue usually (orderly and well humoured it has be said, at least in my experience). Cafes and restaurants remain closed pending a further review - in early June I think. But some eateries do deliveries for pick ups by a side window.

I cook. Just how well is more debatable as my criteria for success is not to kill others or myself. So judged on that score I would say I’m a reasonably decent cook. I hate to admit it but next to British food Norwegian food is not really much to write home about. I’m actually being harsh on British cuisine. I know everyone goes on about how bad British food is but it’s a cliche and untrue given the plethora of of cooking TV shows and just how dramatically British cuisine has changed in the last 30 years. I’ve been lucky to have dined at some really great restaurants from childhood because my father in particular was a foodie and we ate well.

I would like to say I learned a lot from my mother but I didn’t pay as much attention as I should have. She could very cook well but she did so rarely and at a time when we siblings didn’t take much interest. My Norwegian mother was fortunate to learn culinary skills on a cooking course for girls one summer in the Swiss alps at a finishing school as she was also at a nearby boarding school. Her parents thought she would make a good homely wife and hostess - but typically Norwegian my mother had other ideas. Still, a lot of what she learned had stayed with her and she developed a keen interest in French style of cooking to be able to cook well when she wanted to.

When we lived overseas in some countries - such as in India, Pakistan, Dubai and China - we had native cooks and servants and I remember spending a lot of time watching how the food was being made in the kitchen with the friendly cook. And I learned a few things here and there. We didn’t just eat ‘British food’ at home but actually enjoyed the local cuisine. I loved walking in the bazaars and eating street food - it was tasty and so much fun. My parents would put on lavish parties and that was always catered. I did learn from my mother when I did pay attention and her example stayed with me.

At boarding school and university I would cook as well but again nothing exceptional. Often I would have friends around and we would cook together and I would be naturally curious as to how they made a dish that was from their country and I learned on the hoof from them. At university I also started to write down recipes and kept a record of them in a file. So quick and easy meals from little ingredients because of an essay crisis or during a revision slog or the occasional dinner party where I sweated on making dishes from well thumbed cook books. No one died so encouraged I carried on cooking.

I do love cooking because it allows me to have the mental space to think about other things other than work or personal stuff. It gives me a lot of peace in cooking for myself and for others. I’m not a seat by the pants kind of cook. I envy those who can just naturally toss ingredients together and come up with something divine. I am quite regimented. I like to have all my ingredients clearly cut and put on plates in the right order. I like order over chaos. It doesn’t mean my mind is regimented. I can cook a recipe from muscle memory but I need to have order on the kitchen table.

These days I’m fortunate that I get to dine in some very fine Michelin starred restaurants on my business travels and it’s made a more discerning foodie. I avoid restaurant food in hotels for instance because consistently they disappoint. Instead I always plan ahead if I know I am going to a foreign city I will reserve a table during my stay of a restaurant recommended by foodie friends I respect. Often I have to choose the restaurant for a corporate client we may be schmoozing and that has broadened my knowledge and palate to find the right restaurant through trial and error. In Paris too with friends usually we go and try out restaurants that are on the rise and off the tourist beaten track. For the food gourmand though Lyon is the place to go for a pilgrimage. It is after all the place where the great French chef Paul Bocuse was based.

At home I do like to cook for dinner parties in my apartment. It takes planning in terms of deciding what dishes to cook - French cuisine naturally. Through Parisian friends I am more discerning where to go to get the required ingredients. I plan the whole dinner party like a military operation in terms of the logistics. Some may laugh but I take to heart what the great French chef Jacques Pepin once said that, “great cooking favours the prepared hands”.

As a ritual I always do my vegetable shopping in the weekend food market stalls or I go to particular boutiques shops where there is an artisanal element on display. Even what to cook I take into account the people I am bringing together and how they might get a long over the food. The French never bring a bottle of wine to a dinner party as one might in England. It would be considered rude. And yet wine is a serious accompaniment to the food served. Fortunately for me I co-own a vineyard with my two cousins out in the sticks of rural France so I have become greatly educated about wine and my little wine collection is sufficient for all occasions.  

I think through osmosis I have become a better cook and I can feel it every time I go back to England to see friends or my family. I do look on horrified at what they are eating some times. But I have to remind myself not to fall into the trap of being a Parisian food snob. In England I think the food in restaurants has greatly improved but it’s also true that less and less people know how to cook. This is also increasingly true in France too, especially Paris. Fast food and pre-cooked meals from restaurants as well as Uber/Deliveroo are changing things habits. Habits such as cooking dishes were handed down from generation to generation but instead are at your ready made finger tips.

One of my French friends is a chef trained food critic for a major magazine and he has helped me become a better cook. I feel like I am in a piano class with a stern teacher as he slaps my hands in irritation if I try to write down notes instead of paying close attention to the wafting aromas. To him food is spiritual and aesthetic experience that has to be engaged with the heart and the soul. He keeps chiding me that “You are not cooking. You are making love”.

I don’t quite feel as lyrical or mystical as he but I appreciate the passion and this marvellous trait of actually caring.

From him and other French friends  I feel I’ve become a better chef by absorbing certain key principles in good and healthy cooking: never rush cooking as if you’re chasing a missed bus but savour every moment; eat as fresh and natural as possible; local and seasonal are best; left your ingredients be your seasoning; fat is your friend, use butter over olive oil in dishes; never waste food, use all of it; everything in moderation; and every meal is a celebration and not an ordeal.

The last one in particular is important. A meal is not about eating (or drinking of good wine) it’s about the conversation. In the same way it is impossible for an Italian to cook for one person - try making lasagne or any pasta dish for one because you’ll end up making it for five - so it is for the French. Good food is nothing without good conversation.

For the French a successful evening isn’t just judged by the food but also by the talk around the table. The French love to pontificate, gyrate, and muse on any topic under the sun. It’s not just about the knowledge or intellect one brings to the table but also a worthy argument. A true argument isn’t to exclude people but an invitation to draw people in with their own unique views to come to some settled truth. A riposte must nick but never wound for good manners are premium. Wit and charm are prized but courtesy and grace are precious. Parisians tend to have elevated convivial conversations and yet outside of Paris the conversations are more earthy and hearty - ate least that’s been my experience. Either way conversation is a companion to cooking.

I’ve learned this last principle from my lockdown experience with my neighbours in the small apartment building I live in. Most of the residents have bolted before the lockdown to their country homes in Normandy and Bretagne. A few have remained for different reasons. During the lock down phase a couple of us have been buying food for the more senior aged neighbours.

In particular two neighbours I have done their personal shopping for them since they are classified at risk. One is a retired army general and another is retired art gallery owner. They both have gourmand tastes and I have to trek to particular shops to buy the things they want, usually preserves or cheeses or pastries. I often cook for them and often it’s dishes they are used to having so I’m extending my culinary range. They are both fussy eaters used to having a gourmand palate so I feel like I’m at school sometimes having to be corrected now and again as well as being graded.

They were at first wary of letting me cook for them because they thought I was another English barbarian but I slowly won them over. I’ve even got them to try some very English things. The cakes I did went down well but they really liked my scones as well as the clotted cream and jam to go with it. Here I must thank my new Fortnum and Mason’s cook book which has an excellent recipe for scones. I’m surprised at how quickly people have taken to them. So much so it’s become a weekend ritual with the other residents of the building.

We gather at the weekends in the enclosed court yard and with some the small kids having the freedom to run around a little the rest of us sit and chat and we share food that we’ve all cooked. We listen to music played by two residents each proficient on the violin and cello. It’s a fantastic bonding experience and it brings us closer together to the point we have our own WhatsApp group and we help each other out when we can. And surely that is another reason why one enjoys cooking is the sheer pleasure that you hope to bring to others through the taste of food.

If I have learned anything then it’s that is no good or a bad cuisine, just the one you like the best. We all have taste, even if we don’t realise it. Whether a person cooks well or badly it doesn’t stop you understanding the difference between what tastes good and what doesn’t.

For me cooking is precious. Cooking brings rhythm and meaning to my life.

Thanks for your question.

[the-korkron-chronicles]

The Shadowforge Craft Festival

The seasonal Craft Fest is back once again looking for vendors and entertainers! With the ceasefire engaged, members of the Alliance AND Horde are welcome to gather in the commons of Blackrock Mountain, in the heart of Shadowforge City for the second ever Shadowforge Craft Fest!

What: The hard-working Dwarven clans of Khaz Modan, as well as other denizens of Azeroth, wish to host an artisan’s festival to honor centuries of fine dedication to masterful craftsmanship! This will be the Summer installment in this seasonal event, so come and embrace the various cultures of our world!

Not a Dwarf or Alliance? No problem! All are welcome to join! Bring plenty of Elixirs of Tongues!

When: Saturday July 18th, 2020, 6-9 PST. Opening ceremonies will take place outside the entrance to Upper Blackrock Spire at 6pm.

Where: The Inner Ring of Blackrock Mountain, aka. Shadowforge City!

Contacts: You can message Lynae, Bathildis, Lissianä or Modarin in game at any point, or send your request via in-game mail! We can also invite you to our Discord channel or in-game community!

What you can do: As a visitor, you are welcome to roam around the festival grounds, enjoy the night atmosphere and some good casual RP! Come by and shop around, purchase fine goods from master craftsmen and women around the city or submit work orders. Enjoy great entertainment, fireworks, drink, and food! Even register to participate in any sub-events we may have (like a drinking contest or friendly duels).

As a vendor, you can register for a booth to show and sell your wares! We like to spread everyone out along the inner ring of Blackrock Mountain, allowing tons of space for different players to form small gatherings. Blacksmiths, engineers, scribes, even chemists and cooks are welcome!

If you can craft something, wish to take on an apprentice, or teach your trade, you can register. Don’t worry, there are no fees or anything! We just want to keep track of how many people want to fill this position. Please get your booth approved beforehand!

As an entertainer, you can claim a spot to put on your act. Whether you are a bard, have a show, or wish to provide games for others to play, you’re welcome to fill this role! We usually have a bard wandering around the festival playing actual music using addons like TRP3 Extended and Musician, so this is really just limited to creativity.

We definitely plan to spread you guys out so that you’re not being overwhelmed by RP chatter, so it’s very important that we get you set-up in a spot early!

If you don’t want to do any of these things, but wish to be a part of the festival, you are welcome to volunteer to help out where/when it is needed. If you wish to get involved in organizing the event, please contact Lynae, Lissianä or Bathildis in game! I look forward to hearing from you!

PS: If you use the addon TRP3 Extended, you’ll also be in good company at this event. We’ll have special wares available (Bathildis has a full bar, as well as a limited edition Festival Brew), as well as at least one bard playing live music throughout part of the event.

If you are interested in signing up as a vendor, entertainer, or volunteer, please fill out a registration form! Though we don’t update the list daily, spot selection is handled in the order that forms are received.

Current and Tentative Vendors (Plus contacts):

A - The Cask ‘n’ Anvil tavern from Ironforge is bringing it’s famous clan platters! H - Fence Macrabe is bringing Undead Curios! A - Death’s Door is providing enchanted wares, and magic items of all shapes and sizes! A - Tinkerbangers is bringing Plushie, cookies and Pastries! H - Flame Walker Fel-Fire Barbecue is bringing Freshly grilled barbecued meats, sides, vegetarian options, and a few drinks to choose from. Hearty meals to keep you going! A - Ironhands Mechanics and Munitions is bringing Ammunition, explosives, robotics, guns, golems, tools, and commission work for larger projects! A - Battlestein Company Wares and Services is run by a guild group! Full of Wares, services, and beer from masterful artisans of Khaz Modan.

Security currently volunteer basis! Stormwind City Watch has volunteered for Alliance! Still seeking Horde!

[Form Sign Up]

@bath-ironstout​, @ironforgecraftfest​, @fence-macabre​, @dyllietinkerbang​, @the-royal-courier​

[skznct127treacting]

My Stalker Bang Chan 2/4

And so, just as the end of September bled into the start of October, your friendship with Chan began to escalate and grow. The weather became cooler in temperament, as skirts became accompanied by tights and your t-shirts by jackets, seasonal drinks came in with pretty pictures taken on the gram with equally pretty orange nails. Dark lipsticks and warm tone eyeshadow, pumpkin patches, Halloween displays in the shop windows and a general cosy warm feeling in the pit of your stomach that this time of year brings.

Only the weather and the festivities of the season weren’t the only thing leaving you feel light and reinvigorated. You and Chan had established a strong friendship, which while only classroom based, it was definitely a noticeable change from before. He sat next to you every class, and teased you for being such a nerd (even though he was totally one himself), sulked when you didn’t use the pencil he fixed, complimented every little change in your appearance, you gossiped and joked in person and soon turned to social media when a friend request from Chan popped up. He constantly poked you for details about your life, who were your parents, what job did they do, where you lived - sometimes you felt as though you were on a date with him and that you were playing 21 questions. You treated it as such, taking more care in your appearance and constantly fixing yourself up in whatever reflection you could find. When he asked whether you were in a relationship and you replied no, you swore you saw him breathe a sigh of relief.

And of course he constantly badgered you to hang out with him outside of class for a study date, where he promised he’d buy you food in turn for you teaching him, but you turned him down - always having something that busied you. He’d shrug it off though and laugh “another time maybe Y/N?”

Through all the questions he asked of you, a number of which were personal, he never answered himself. Not that he would shut himself off or anything he was just very good at deflecting the conversation. Of course in your eyes this just made him more alluring. The one thing he did love to talk about was the scare house and about the carnival and how when you came down he would love for you to visit him. His character was a white masked character in a red jumpsuit that eerily followed people around one of the rooms, and snuck up on them as opposed to jumping out on them, it was more a B side character, but he seemed content with the role. He’d often talk about how he loved to scare people and how the role was fun because it didn’t require that much theatrics, just stealth. You often pulled a face when he became so excitable about such a thing, but he ignored your discomfort and continued to ramble.

Eventually the general small talk and memes on messenger became deep conversations that lasted until the early hours of the morning. This was another huge turning point in your relationship, and perhaps cemented him from just being a petty crush to somebody you had fallen deeply for - he could hold deep conversations on the world and people and on you and your problems and simplify them in a way which only drew you to him more. He made you feel safe. 

“You’re seriously not talking to him are you?” Eve grimaced as you were all at your local coffee shop one weekend - you had tried to be subtle to replying to his texts but you had been busted. “He’s creepy as fuck. Cute, but creepy.”

“He’s a nice guy okay?” You shot back rather defensively.

“Hm nice guys don’t pick up broken pencils and slowly glue them together… or talk about how much they enjoy scaring people,” Josie said as you gave her a frustrated glare, regretting telling them about some of the conversations you two had, had.

“I think he’s just a bit socially awkward,” You replied as a new message shot up on your screen. You had just told him that you were bored in the coffee shop listening to your friends rant about their relationships and this was his reply-

Chan 10.51 am - Oh my god I’m literally here myself.

“Yes he’s very socially awkward and that means he’s clinging to you because he knows you’re a nice person and will put up with his bullshit.” Eve said in between sips of her drink

“He hasn’t done anything bad you guys are acting like as though he’s killed somebody.” You shot back exasperated as you darted round the coffee room trying to find him until you noticed in the back corner a man doing work on his laptop. Quickly you lowered your voice “Shit guys he’s here!”

“What the fuck do you means he’s here?” Eve said widening her eyes and glancing around the room as you just had. Until she spotted him. “Oh shit.”

“What do I do?” You asked trying to pull your chair further behind a column and out of his sight.

“You run.” Josie said as Eve nodded, pursing her lips together.

Chan 10.53am - Are you going to come and say hello then?

“Fuck he’s seen me I’ve got to go, you guys can go into town and I’ll catch up with you later.” You said grabbing your bags as you pulled the chair out of the table.

“And leave you alone with him? No chance in hell, we’re staying here.” Josie said, a defiant look in her eyes as Eve nodded. 

Flustered you did little to argue and walked over to Chan who got up and pulled the chair out for you, you didn’t have to see Eve and Josie to feel the full force of their cringe.

“So those are the boring friends,” Chan said nodding over to the conspiring duo across from you.

“Well they’re not boring, it’s just the conversation was, y’know, because I can’t relate,” you laughed awkwardly as Chan placed down his half empty cup and looked up at you, that intense look in his eyes again that you hadn’t seen since you first spoke to him. He looked more intimidating out of school, having shed his boyish presence for something that felt more serious. 

“Well let me go and get you another drink,” He said getting up despite your protests.

“Oh nononono it’s fine I have to get going,” You argued but he brushed you off and walked over to the counter anyway, completely ignoring the presence of your friends who rushed over to you.

“Y/N is that you staying here with him then?” Eve asked as she shared a concerned glance between her and Josie, and one of normality between yourself.

“I think so..” You replied watching the barista begin making your drink. “You shouldn’t stay though guys really.”

“We’re just worried about you Y/N, we just don’t want Chan to take advantage of you in any way,” Josie said flicking her dark hair over her shoulder.

“It’s fine guys really just go I’ll catch up later,” You said, and sensing that you would protest and really begin to argue with them if they tried to stay they both vowed to keep in touch with you, darting off before Chan brought a hearty mug of hot chocolate back for you.

He laughed as he noticed you eyeing up the squirted cream and the tiny marshmallows.

“What? I figured you’re too cute to be drinking coffee, and also who dosen’t like hot chocolate,” He said as you smiled and cupped the drink in your hands. “I get the feeling that your friends don’t like me.”

“What? Nooo.” You said, confused as to how he had been able to so easily infer such a thing. “Their just protective of me.”

“Let me guess, they think big bad Chan is going to steal you away and corrupt you,” he said, the tone of his voice sarcasm, but the look on his face notably irritable. 

“I’m not sure, I’m sure they’ll come round once they realise just how much of a cool person you are,” You said which lit up his face instantly into that smile as he shut his laptop lid and cupped his mug as well and leaned over, making the coffee shop setting seem more intimate all of a sudden.

“I can’t believe I got the Y/N to consider me as a cool person. My life has been made,” He teased back as you just shrugged, the smiles still clinging to both of your faces. “Well it’s nice to have finally dragged you out from school and the books.”

“I didn’t know you were so intent on hanging out with me,” You joked rolling your eyes.

“More than you know,” He said, letting his stare falter for a second as he looked past you momentarily. “Anyways I wanted to ask you something Y/N. Will you go with me to the monsters bash?”

“Yes I’d love to, but it’s not really like people go with each other, it’s not like a ball or anything like that if you get what I mean,” You said tripping over your words, trying to establish both for him and yourself the expectations - you weren’t a couple, it wasn’t a date. It hurt but you had to pinch yourself a few times around him, almost to remember it was a dream, and not real, you weren’t together, no matter how forward his advances were.

“Oh okay I see,” was all he said, as he showed no sign of annoyance or relief. The conversation continued to flicker between you to for what must have been a couple of hours until the sky began to darken, in such a way that is common in October. Towards the end of your coffee visit, just before you got a text from Josie and told him you had to leave he reached forward and touched your hand - still resting on the luke-warm mug.

“Y/N, we have to do this some other time, or something. I really like hanging out with you,”

“I like hanging out with you to.”

It was as if in that moment you had both admitted in code that you liked each other, although not far enough to confess, this filled him with a new form of confidence as he got up and hugged you before you left, telling you to take care on the walk home. He wanted to walk you back but had a family event which inhibited him from doing so. Even so, when you left he texted you, telling you to tell him to text when you’re home safe. All of the points made up by your friends disappeared into vapour. Bang Chan was perfect, he was so chivalric and such a gentleman from pulling your chair out to buying your drink to wanting you to get home safe.

Walking home you put your headphones in and found Chan in the lyrics, you found him in your reflection in the shop windows - having dusted your cheeks a glisten of pink, you found him in your pocket where your pencil still remained, but where you didn’t find him was a couple of metres behind you watching your every move, following you in his car from the bus station, to your friends meeting up with you, to the bus ride to finally your home. Delighted with the fact that he finally knew where you lived he grabbed his red notebook and scrawled the address down, as pages and pages were littered with facts about you from your favorite food to notes about your personality to even bullet points on your biggest fears, wedged in between the pages were the receipt he had just gotten from the café, a tissue you had dropped from your pocket, even your perfume which he had taken out of your bag and sprayed the pages with so that even from opening the book it embodied you. He smelled the scent and hugged the book close to him, as though for a split moment, it was you in his embrace, he still remembered the way you felt in his arms, small and weak, like a baby bird in the claws of a cat. Meanwhile the funnel of grey clouds slithered across the sky, drowning the moon out into obscurity. Time was running out . . .

So begins the first week of October and things were going great, you and Chan, had, had more outings together, they had just been usually study based or casually drinking coffee but tonight he had invited you out to a movie, and as typical of October - a horror movie. For some reason this felt way more like a date setting and so you were now fawning over your clothes trying to not be too casual… but also not too dressed up… but also not like you were making an effort… but also not like you were making too much of an effort. The only off putting thing was that throughout these outings you had been getting these phone calls every couple of days, nothing happened during them, but you could just hear somebody breathing for around a minute before they would put the phone down. This was incredibly creepy, and while you would have turned to Josie and Eve for help you had grown apart from them as you grew closer to Chan. They strongly disapproved of him and shut down any conversation with him in, this in turn made you feel like you couldn’t talk about your other problems, and so you turned to Chan. Who came up with the logical explanation that it’s October, and kids do fucked up pranks during this time of year. This logical explanation led you to ignoring the calls until they disappeared entirely, perhaps you should have reported it to the police but Chan was probably right, it would just be kids.

Finally you settled on an outfit that you felt comfortable in and waited on Chan’s text that he was here to pick you up. He should be only 15 minutes away. You sat on the end of your bed impatiently, adjusting this and that, twiddling with your fingers, and checking your phone every few seconds.

Meanwhile, Chan’s car hummed along the side roads leading up to your house, despite being only 5pm the sky had already bleakend, as all that illuminated the night were the soft orange hues of lamp-posts and that of Chan’s blinding headlights. Tonight was the night he thought to himself. Deep breaths. You liked him didn’t you? He knew that much from your body language, the way you’d tilt your neck towards him, the way you’d touch him without apprehension, your subtle flirting and the way you looked at him with dilated pupils - as though trying to swallow his reflection. . So why on earth was he so anxious? Oh well.. Tonight’s the night… tonight’s the night… all the while the little red book sat in the glovebox, well thumbed and beginning to tatter, the newest edition a log of all of the times he had called you and how long for, those breaths he may have brushed off as that of teenage delinquents, was actually that of a desperate man in longing. He wasn’t a psychopath.. n o! He couldn’t be!  He was a poet, a dreamer, a true gentlemen who wished to court rather than engage in society’s tinder culture where romance was merely a commodity. No , he smiled, tonight’s the night.

“You look great,” Chan beamed as you slammed the car door and sunk into the seat, your nerves and anxieties of the night instantly fading away once you were in his presence. 

“Thanks..” You said a small smile on your face as he started the car up again. The radio in the background played at an almost muted volume, to the point where it was hard to work out what it was. You strained forward trying to make out the words. Noticing this Chan turned the dial up ever so that you could make out your favorite musician playing.

“Wow I did not not know you were the type of guy to be into ___.”

“Yeah there’s a lot you’d be surprised at Y/N.” 

“Well tell me your favorite song then?! What did you think of their latest album, I like the transition in style but at the same time I’m not sure,” 

“I like their first album personally..”

“Oh my god I’ve never met somebody with an appreciation for that!”

“I know right?? It’s such an underrated record.”

Outside the first of the evening’s promised showers began, hitting the windshield at a furious pace, until your view became a  watercolour view of the town’s urban lights. Lost in the kaleidoscopic illumination the song drew to a close.