#it's been a while since I read the early stuff (started reading in late march)

[bi-hop]

whaat is the trump manga i need to know

it's a manga about a boy named Sophie who is a dhampir and enrolls at a school for other vampires who are going through vampire puberty (I forget the name for it. cocooning? something like that). he ends up stumbling into a codependent friendship with one of the teenage members of nobility there.

I read it here!

[lil-spider]

So Damn Pretty

Chapter 9

Part 8 : Part 10

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter X Female Reader

Summary: Johnny is sex starved and you’re very attractive, so attractive that he doesn’t want to kill you. Instead he finds ways to keep you around longer.

Note: I wrote this while having shirtless Johnny on my tv, his muscles are the only thing I can think about 😩.

Warning: This is 18+ and please do not read if your sensitive to heavy descriptions of non/con and violence. Including bondage, blood, gore, assault, objectification and unsafe sex. For those who don’t mind, I hope you enjoy.

I stare timidly at the horribly cracked mirror, observing my naked body. It’s barely recognisable; blue and purple marks spread along my chest, hips, neck and thighs. Johnny has been getting a lot rougher during sex; ever since that night I killed that girl, he’s been more ravenous.

He’s been interrupting me from my tasks more frequently, dragging me off multiple times throughout the day to somewhere away from the house, only to bend me over whatever object he deems fit. His favourite thing to do right now is sit on a pulled-out, deteriorating car seat, drink, or smoke while I’m on my knees in the dirt, sucking him off. At least it gives my poor body a break, even though my knees are now suffering.

I take one last glance at myself before putting on a pastel blue dress decorated with cute yellow flowers. The dress is short and sleeveless. Starting high, wrapping around my neck, to just stopping at the top of my knees, simple but pretty.

Looking down in the sink, I pick up a broken-handled hairbrush and roughly begin brushing my hair. Sissy kindly gifted it to me with an apology for its damaged state, but I didn't care that it was broken; I was so grateful that I squeezed her in for a tight hug. I've been desperate to rid my hair of these nasty knots. My fingers are only able to do so much.

The bathroom is now the only place I get time to think. It used to be my room, but with late-night visits from Johnny, it's no longer available.

I put the brush back down and rummaged through Jessica's makeup bag. I was supposed to hide it originally, but I changed my mind and decided to use her stuff; it would have been wasting away and forgotten about if I hid it. Searching around, I pulled out a black mascara tube, black eyeliner, and a small brown eyeshadow palette with three shades. Having no brushes, I got to work using my fingers, delicately rubbing the pigments over my eyelids. It feels good to use makeup again, a luxury I guess I took for granted. It makes me feel better, feeling refreshed and pretty.

After applying the eyeliner along my eye shape and coating on layers of mascara, I take a second to admire myself, which is a tad difficult with a broken mirror. I won't have many chances to do this again, sadly; Jessica only carried a small bag of makeup wipes with her.

I bundle the makeup products and the broken hairbrush in my arms and swiftly leave the bathroom towards my bedroom. Pushing the door open with my foot, I place the items down gently on my bedside table, and I grab an old, ugly pair of brown sandles, sliding them on. They were perfect for getting around that house quietly without disturbing anyone; Sissy's style of barefoot isn't something I was too fond of. Buckling up the sandle straps, I march downstairs, feeling ready for today.

Reaching the dining room, I notice it's unusually quiet; there's no sign of Bubbaor Nubbins messing around; Johnny ain't here either, lacking the sound of his thundering footsteps and voice.

Did I spend so long getting ready that I missed breakfast? Hopefully, Johnny went with Drayton in the early morning. I can’t help but feel anxious thinking of what else he could be up to. It was weeks ago that he brought that woman back to purposefully antagonise me. My mouth always dries up thinking about that. Did Johnny even realise I had caught him before he brought me down to the basement? Or was that his plan to further anger me?

I don't like thinking about it, and I also can't stop. The guilt and excitement I felt were like none other. Killing her was intense. So much was happening all at once with such little consequence. It bothers me that I killed her out of petty jealousy, even more so that I'm happy she's dead. God, what is happening to me?

“Lookin’ very dolled up today, sweetie?” Sissy says with a smirk as she takes a bite from her buttered-up toast.

 

Her voice snaps me out of my thoughts instantly, and I flinch in surprise, not aware she was sitting so close. She really is the quietest out of the whole family.

 "I felt like using some makeup, just for fun.” I responded to her honestly; it was true. I just wanted to feel pretty.

“Shame Johnny ain’t here to see you all pretty this morning." She smiles at me teasingly, a glint in her dangerous eyes. Not bothered, I grab myself a plate with strawberry jam toast and take a seat in front of her.

“I didn’t do it for Johnny.” I tell her, taking a large bite of my toast. She stands after finishing her breakfeast, walking off with an unconvinced look.

I wonder if the rest of the family knows about Johnny and I’s relationship; Drayton and him did have that argument when I first arrived. Not to mention our lack of subtlety; I mean, we go off together for long periods and come back with dishevelled hair and clothes. It doesn't help that I am covered head to toe in bruises.

I nibbled on the rest of the toast while thinking. Maybe they don't care; I know Johnny doesn't lose sleep over other opinions on what he does. I am, for one, embarrassed if they know.

Am I the lucky one? Johnny has chosen me to be with him out of so many other girls; he likes me the most, or I would not be here right now, and I want to keep it that way. After everything I’ve been through, God forbid another woman tries to take that away from me. I just need more time to understand Johnny and what he truly wants from me.

 

I finish my small breakfast, standing up to clean up my plate. I better hurry up; it’s my turn to feed Grandpa Sawyer, and he is most likely hungry by now.

Ironically, out of everyone in this family, Grandpa Sawyer is the most pleasant person to be around. Feeding him the vial of blood that I had once found gross has become a normal occurrence, and afterwards, I just relax in the living room, sewing or knitting near him while he sleeps; it’s peaceful.

I just started sewing and knitting as a new hobby. With the hard work Sissy and I have been doing, we were all caught up on house chores. We get them done in a couple of hours instead of a whole day. I've also finished trimming all the bushes and flowers, with nothing else important to do. Sissy has been teaching me to sew and knit to kill time while she tends to her plants in her greenhouse. So I spend my free time fixing old clothes in the living room, near Grandpa.

Now that oh so sweet, peacefulness went away as Nubbins came stomping downstairs, crashing down on the couch next to me with a heavy photo album. It’s amazing that he didn’t wake up, grandpa.

"I-I-I got some new photos I-i took with my n-n-new camera." Nubbins informs me gleefully, opening up his album.

"Ah, sure thing, yeah," I tell him, surprised by the suddenness of his appearance. He usually keeps himself locked up in his room. I put my sewing needles and the shirt I was working on to the side so I could focus my attention on him.

With beaming excitement, Nubbins flips through the photo album, going to the back to show his most recent pictures. I look at the ones he is flipping through and see a variety of shots of sunsets and sunflowers. He seems to be very passionate about his hobby. It's nice to see how he spends his free time.

It was nice until I saw pictures of mutilated animals. I cringed at the horrid sights, flicking my eyes away and swallowing my distaste. He finally gets to the page he wants. Chucking the album in my lap, he begins pointing to each picture, telling me the meaning behind each one.

 

I couldn't help but chuckle looking at the super close-up shots of Drayton's angry face. I tell Nubbins how hilarious it is, and he needs to take more close-up shots of everyone. He giggles in agreement. He flips the page over while bouncing in his seat. Thankfully, there are no more gruesome pictures; his latest ones are all beautiful and sweet. I point to the ones I like best.

One is of Sissy and Bubba dancing out in the backyard; he's adorably holding her hand up as she daintily spins. Another set of pictures I love is of Johnny in a white singlet, covered in grease stains, bent over working on a car. It follows another picture of him standing back up, turned towards the camera with a confused face, and then the last shot shows him angrily marching towards the camera, trying to grab it. It's a bit blurred; Nubbins must have started running off as he took that last picture. 

"These are really beautiful Nubbins." I tell him wholeheartedly. The pictures are well shot, and there is a loveliness to them, showing the fun side of his family. 

He grins at me in delight, and with a stutter in his voice, he asks if he could take a picture of me since I look very pretty today and will make a nice new collection. 

I nod my head. I don't see the harm in a few pictures. Nubbins quickly hops off the couch and stands in front of me, grabbing his camera that's strapped around his neck. He starts rapidly snapping pictures, the flash blinding me slightly, but I quickly compose myself and begin to smile, sitting up straighter, hopefully looking okay. I get nervous about my photo being taken.

After six or seven pictures fall from his camera, Nubbins squats down quickly, scattering them in his hands, and hobbles his way upstairs, forgetting about his photo album that is still placed on my lap.

With a morbid sense of curiosity, I flip back to see what other pictures Nubbins has taken. It consists mainly of poor dead cattle, roadkill, more of the family, and property. Until I found a picture of Johnny smiling with the corpse of a dead girl, he looked ecstatic, carrying her over his shoulder, shirtless and sweaty. It appears like he was chasing her and finally caught her. Like a wolf hunting a rabbit. Before I could turn another page, I heard Nubbins coming back downstairs.

I quickly snap the album shut and plop it next to me while grabbing my sewing needles, pretending I was focusing on something else other than his photos.

 “F-forgot this.” He mumbles under his breath, snatching the album from the couch and placing it under his arm while scuttling back to his room.

I sigh in relief at not getting caught looking through his album. I don’t know how he would react to it; it seems he takes his photography very seriously and personally. The last thing I want to do is cause trouble. Snooping like that is dangerous for me; I won’t try that again.

 

A few hours have passed since that little incident, and Sissy and I had just finished making dinner—chilli again, of course; it’s the family’s favourite. Made only how Drayton likes it, as he is the chilli expert.

I finish placing the cutlery and ceramic white plates on the dinner table just as Sissy rings the bell, signalling that food is cooked and it's time for supper. 

“Pa and Johnny should be back anytime now.” Sissy yells out to me from the kitchen, and right on cue, I hear Drayton's beat-up old truck roll up front.

Heavy doors slam, and loud voices take over the silence. The more they get closer, the easier it is to tell that an argument broke out between them—more of Drayton lecturing over Johnny. But they both come straight to the dining table, sitting in their designated spots as I take my seat.

I’m in front of Johnny. I look at his handsome face and am happy to see him. He stares back at me, making heavy eye contact with me. He looks hungry, and I don’t think it's for chilli. I cast my eyes down, not being able to keep the contact. I’ve never been good at holding eye contact; it gets too much before I start feeling embarrassed; it's easier to just look away.

Bubba comes in dressed up like an old grandma, carrying the big pot of chilli. Using a large wooden spoon, he goes around the table, serving the portions on the plates. Sissy must have given him the task when he came up from the basement. He practically lives down there, barely coming up. I guess having your own lair would be nice; it’s spacious, but I don't see the appeal; each to their own.

Sissy comes skipping in right after with a tea spoon and medium-sized bowl of sour cream, plopping them down on the table for whoever. She glances around and notices Nubbins hasn’t arrived. She sighs in annoyance, skips to the stairs, and yells out his name while also yelling that it’s dinnertime.

 

"Hurry up before it gets cold!" She yells for the last time. She comes back, smiling and taking her seat right next to me. We wait to eat until Nubbins arrives, who, of course, rushes down the stairs to take his spot. Yapping on about the new photos he took today. 

As Bubba puts the large pot down and sits, we begin to eat, and I glance back at Johnny, who is no longer staring at me but just casually eating and focusing on the others. I'm a tad jealous that he’s not focusing on me anymore. I must be showing it on my face as Johnny looks back at me with a smirk on his face. I flush red as he winks, and I look down again. I hate being so easy to read and tease. 

After finishing dinner, I was helping clean up the leftovers and dishes. Then the most odd thing happened. Johnny started to help, packing up the plates and bringing them to me. Not once since I've been here has Johnny ever helped with dishes. Placing the dirty dishes in the sink, he slides behind me, sneakily pressing himself against my ass. 

“Meet me outside near the shed. I got somethin’ for ya’." He says this quietly into my ear. With a quick kiss on my cheek, he's moves away leaving me alone and most likely heading to the shed. 

I wonder what he planned for me tonight; I have a feeling it’s not just the usual romp but something more. Taking deep breaths, I head out from the back garden to the nearby large shed. I really hope this isn't a punishment after that incident a few days ago. After I had killed that black-haired woman, I yelled at him for sleeping with her. Yes, I murdered her, but I was still pissed that he did that. I felt betrayed.

Johnny, not reacting to my anger, turned and left, leaving me baffled. It's why now I'm getting nervous as I get closer to the shed. Moonlight giving me vision in the dark while the gravel crunches underneath my shoes, sounds of crickets and leaves rustling around me as I reach my destination. 

 

Walking inside, Johnny is sitting on top of a large crater, and near him is another woman, bleeding from many cuts, gagged, and tied with an old rope to a chair. The poor thing is a sobbing mess. The outdoor lamps reflecting the wetness from her tears.

“I kept her alive just for you, sweetheart.” He says as he takes a drag from his cigarette. He stands up from the crate and saunters closer to me. 

Did you fuck this one too? I wanted to say badly, but I held my tongue. The last thing I want is to end up in the same position as the new victim. I shouldn't test him.

Johnny smiles, like he knows what I want to say, and I'm never going to be able to hide my thoughts from him. 

He wraps his muscular arm around my waist, pulling me towards him. “I know what you're thinking, sweetheart, and I didn’t put my cock any wear near her. I didn’t want you to have another temper tantrum like the other night.” He mocks me by blowing his cigarette smoke in my face. 

I crinkled my nose at the smoke, swatting its vileness away from my face. He tugs me along closer and grips my chin to my face towards the woman, who is straining her eyes at me with desperation.

“I want you to slice her up real good.” He speaks softly into my ear. Using the arm that was around my waist, he reaches to his pocket, pulling out a small switchblade and placing it in my sweaty palm. A lump swells in my throat at what he's asking me to do. I have to torture this innocent woman. I look closely at her; she seems to be in her mid-late twenties or early thirties. How am I going to do this?

He notices my hesitation, and without getting angry, he instead gently guides me closer to her. He walks behind me, pressing his large frame against me. "Let me show you." His deep voice soothes me as he holds my wrists like a puppeteer. I bite my bottom lip as he, or I guess me, presses the knife to the fat part of her cheek. Sliding it across. Ruby-red blood shines out of the gash as the woman wrestles with her restraints on the chair.

“I can’t.” I whimper at him. My hands are trembling for causing her anguish. She doesn’t deserve this; no matter who she is, this is wrong. 

“You will, or else I'll fuck her in front of you.” I'm not sure if it’s cowardice or selfishness, but I give in to him, letting him guide the knife along her delicate skin, slicing it and causing nasty red lines. We drag it down along her neck, pressing it down harder into her chest, where her heart is. I feel his hardness press into me, his hot breath along my neck, and his arm around my waist as we continue, going back up and pressing the sharp blade along her throat. 

The woman's breathing is rapid. Panting from fear. I refuse to look at her face, knowing what I'll see. Knowing she doesn't want to die. Begging for her life. 

“Do it.” He grunts, letting go of my wrist, holding me tight, waiting for me to slice her throat, wanting me to murder her on my own accord. I ignore the voices in my head as I dig the blade in deep enough. I shut my eyes as it gushes out. The woman gurgles and splatters in her gag as she chokes on her own blood.

I just killed another person, a human being. Who had a life? No, I can’t think about it; I won't. Thinking about that will get me killed. I love Johnny, and I’ll do anything for him. 

I let out a big sob, trying to calm down as Johnny turned me into his chest, hugging me. 

"You did so well, sweetheart." He assured me, patting my head. A sense of comfort swarms me as I'm held tight in his arms. 

I crane my neck up to look up at him, his dark eyes blown wide with excitement. We stare at each other as our breaths get heavy.

He dives in for a hungry kiss. I reciprocate, wanting him to devour me and to feel him inside me. Keeping me full.

Johnny pulls and tosses me against a crate. My chest squishes flat as he pulls up my dress. I wiggle my upper body, trying to adjust myself to a comfortable position. 

“Your soaked.” Johnny mocks me while gliding his fingers along my slit.

Without hesitation, I grind myself back on his hand, his thumb rubbing slow circles on my engorged clit, while two other fingers slide inside, stretching me out for his cock.

“Johnny.” I moan softly, feeling guilty as I look at the bleeding-dead woman, her limp body falling forward. 

“Don't worry, darlin', I got you." His fingers start thrusting out of me, distracting me as I clench around them, moaning. Fuck, it feels good.

 “Please, Johnny, keep going; don’t stop.” I squeezed myself again around his fingers. I'm so aroused that I could cum at any moment.

He is always so good with his fingers; he knows exactly where to put them, turning me into a moaning mess and aching for an orgasm. He presses his thumb on my clit harder, rocking it back and forth along with his other fingers. 

 

I try not to look back at the woman; the sounds of my wetness echo through the shed. A hard slap to my ass cues me to look back at Johnny in surprise; he looks annoyed.

“Don’t fuckin’ ignore me, sweetheart.” He yells angry at me for being distracted. He pulls out his fingers, drawing a gasp out of me as he flips me over.

Flatting my back on the crate, I spread my legs while the rest of my dress is dragged up over my breasts. He moves in between my legs hovering over me.

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” I moan out as he gropes and kneads my breasts. I spread my legs further to accommodate his hulking frame. My pussy aching to be touched again. He sucks on a nipple, swirling it with his tongue as I reach around, digging my nails into his soft hair. 

He stops sucking my nipples and roughly pulls my knees up to my chest so he can place his lips on my clit. He gently blows cool air on my pearl before encompassing his mouth around it, sucking and licking. I pant and squeeze his hair tighter, making him groan into my cunt. Shit, I'm going to cum soon. My cunt clenches around nothing, demanding to be filled as I reach my peak, legs shaking as I cum.

He pushes his cock inside me as I cum. We both groan in sync as he keeps going in. "Fuck your pussy feels incredible!" He groans, thrusting away.

I start moaning loudly, feeling very sensitive from my orgasm. He starts going harder, placing my calves over his shoulders. I hold on to him, trying to focus, but I'm so sensitive that I can barely keep up. 

"Johnnyyy s-so good.” I breatheless moan, barely making a full sentence as my tits swing to his pounding.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart.” He warns, pushing my legs further back, reaching deeper than before. He places his thumb on my clit, massaging it. 

I unexpectedly cum again, and my body shakes at its suddenness. Johnny moans deeply, feeling my gummy walls gush and tighten around his throbbing cock.

“Oh yeah, that’s what I love’.” He groans as he cums, squirting in me deeply, holding me still as he fills me up. I whine when he places my legs down. He watches his cum drip out of your cunt, biting his lower lip at the sight. 

"Shit darlin', I wanna' fuck again." He groans enthusiastically, slapping my thighs. 

@alurafairy : @mikaneedy

[likeadevils]

Do you know if the 150 vault tracks for 1989 was true? I’ve always assumed it to be false/exaggerated but it’s something I’ve seen being talked about on TikTok constantly so i’m doubting myself

as far as i've seen, that particular number comes from a secret sessioner. there probably some truth to it-- there's this aside from her New York Magazine article (which she gave on September 22, 2013) "While on the Red tour, she’d been writing songs and stockpiling ideas: reams of lyrics, thousands of voice memos in her iPhone," and she also mentioned in a video (i think in the grammy listening session when she's talking about ryan tedder?) that she tried to bring 3-5 ideas to a producer before they got in the studio so they could choose what they wanted to work on. which is like, an insane amount of backlogged song ideas when it comes to taylor, so it makes sense.

that being said, i don't think they were full songs (at least the vast majority of them). based on the voice memos and the interviews i've read, it seems like taylor would have a verse/verse melody and a chorus, and then once a producer chose a song she would flesh it out more. there are some exceptions, but by in large, most of the voice memos she brought to producers were varying degrees of unfinished. furthermore, the stuff that didn't get chosen by a producer was likely not recorded in any real way, and therefore not legitimately considered for the album.

here is a list of all the vault songs we know about

she was in the studio in early october 2012

jacknifee lee implied her and harry wrote a couple songs together that fall

she's tweets about being in the studio in february 2013

she's photographed entering one in early march

she posts on instagram implying she's writing a song in late march

in november of 2013 she says a couple times that she has seven or eight songs that she knows she wants on the album. by that, taylor had likely recorded 10 songs that went on to make 1989, 7 that had been made since taylor and jack had a big conversation about 80s music in may, and 5 of which that were likely recorded in the past two months. so, depending on how taylor was judging "songs she knew she wanted on the album", that leaves room for about two or three songs from late 2013 that almost made the album but didn't.

she writes one with diane warren in january 2014

she's photographed entering a recording studio in march 2014.

by may 2014, she had likely wrapped recording and done the album photoshoot. so being generous, that's roughly a dozen mostly complete, unreleased songs. there's always the possibility of more, but i would still say that would bring the total up to 15, tops. furthermore, only 5 of those songs that we know about were written after taylor and jack had had their conversation about 80s music (x, x, there's so much more pick like any piece of press jack does about 1989) and taylor starts building the album around it (x, x).

so like, despite having a lot of rough drafts, taylor likely had a fairly small amount of songs she legitimately considered for 1989 but cut. which is what the vault songs are-- not a complete record of every song she halfway made while writing for the album, but a collection of killed darlings.

[tomtenadia]

Arrivals - an ALB Outtake.

Hello everyone. I have a surprise for all of you. It’s fluffy and I hope you love it.

Winter in Orynth was always challenging and cold. Snow was a permanent feature from late September all the way through to March and sometimes until a very early April if the winter had been bad. That year the snow had arrived at the very beginning of September and the meteorologists had predicted a very harsh winter.

Rowan stared at the outside world from the rolling doors of the firehouse and sighed. The storm had been raging since the early hours of the night and it was not meant to let go for another day.

They had a few call outs and the drive had been hellish. Ansel and Nox had guided both truck and engine through the streets of Orynth under a snowstorm and very poor visibility. He had driven the ambulance with nervousness. He knew Nox had changed the tyres and was always on top of maintenance, but even with that reassurance he had hated the drive. When dispatch alarm went off he ran to the ambulance and joined an apprehensive Elide.

“Here we go again.” She whispered, while reading the details of the call on the onboard computer. This time it was just them. 

His phone on the dashboard pinged but he ignored it as he parked the ambulance and jumped to work.

*

A heavily pregnant Aelin exited her car, wrapped in the coat and walked to the familiar doors of east station. The apron already covered with fresh snow, the tyres trails faint on the snowy tarmac. Keeping it clear was impossible. She entered the side door and found the apparatus floor empty and her heart sank. She hoped they were all fine. That was an aspect she always hated. If a call came through on such horrendous conditions, they had to respond. It was the job of a first responder. She stomped her feet hard to remove the snow and walked quickly to the bunks room and dumped her stuff on Rowan’s bed remaining only in her polo shirt and TFD track suit trousers. Her uniform had soon become very uncomfortable so she had started wearing more comfortable clothes.

She then walked back in the common room and sat heavily on the sofa. Rowan had begged her to join him at the station as soon as her shift at the academy was over. She had just entered her last month of pregnancy. Both the commissioner and her husband had been nagging her to finally go on maternity leave but Aelin had asked for another week. There were a few thing she wanted to get ready before she went on leave. They both had resigned at her stubbornness. On that day though, Rowan had begged her to stay at the firehouse. If power failed they had backup generators and she would be safe. He did not want his pregnant wife alone in a cold house.

It was a few minutes later when she stood again and made her way to the kitchen. She was not feeling great and hoped some warm green tea might help. With the finesse of a stranded whale she landed again on the sofa and her hand went to her bump. It had been feeling tight and sore all day. She shrugged and grabbed the remote and relaxed until the team was back.

It was an hour later when she heard the familiar sounds of the rolling doors being activated and the vehicles being parked on the apparatus floor.

She stood and slowly walked to the big room knowing that it was very likely that Rowan was not there yet.

Aelin stared at the team jump off the vehicles and smiled but the pang of sadness she was expecting never came.

“Aelin!” Shouted Brullo who had been the first one to spot her.

“Hellish call?”

“Roof cave in,” added Manon while she removed her bunker gear “All of this snow is crazy.”

Aelin chuckled “Guess that will keep you busy, eh captain?”

Manon sighed “I have already three reports waiting for me in the office. No rest for the wicked.”

In the background she heard Asterin giving orders to the team and she smiled. Aelin was not worried about her station as she left it in very capable hands. Manon had become a wonderful captain very quickly and Asterin had stepped up to her role of lieutenant on truck with the same easiness. 

“Shouldn’t you be stranded on the sofa?”

Another strange pang of pain and Aelin nodded and followed the team inside.

“Cap, fancy some lunch with us? Rowan and Elide had to go to med. They will be back soon.” She smiled back at Brullo and the man joined Ress at the stoves. As the smell of food started to rise in the air she began feeling sick and thought she had far too many doughnuts for breakfast. One of her students of the class that was about to graduate had brought in sweet treats knowing full well how much she loved them. She ignored her upset stomach and kept sipping the hot tea in the hope it would settle the stomach. Rowan and Elide waltzed back in not long after. Her husband’s stare landed on her and he smiled at seeing her safe.

“Buzzard, your whale of a wife has landed,” she announced, extending her arms to him.

Rowan walked to her and kissed her deeply then brushed her bump “Hi Maya, being nice to mum?”

Aelin sighed “she has been very active today,” another flinch escaped her and Rowan did not miss it.

“Are you okay?” And from his tone she knew he had activated his fussy mode “do you want me or Elide to check on you?”

She shifted uncomfortably “No Ro, I am fine.”

He sighed and walked away but she knew the battle was not over yet.

Aelin had been feeling lousy all afternoon, and worry started to rise in everyone when she barely ate.

“It’s just false labour,” she kept repeating “I think Maya is getting ready, and she has been swimming all day.”

Surely her daughter had decided that her bladder had become a squeeze toy as she stood to walk to the restroom for the billionth time that day.

It was on her way back to the common room when the pain started to get worse. Aelin landed heavily back on the sofa and swore at the stabbing pain in her abdomen.

“Aelin?” Rowan was at her side immediately “What is it?”

She grabbed her belly as what now she was positive was a contraction rocked her abdomen “I think….” She breathed out in a desperate hope to chase away the pain “I think I am in labour.”

Rowan turned his head to Elide and the woman jumped into action, coming back a few minutes later with Manon “My quarters are free. Go, check on her.”

Rowan helped Aelin up and the two paramedics accompanied her in the captain quarters and lay her down on the bed. Her husband grabbed the jump bag Elide had passed him “Ae, I need to check on you.”

They both removed her trousers and Rowan donned his gloves and proceeded with his checks and then gasped “Aelin, did your water break and omitted to tell me?”

She stared at Rowan with curiosity “I—“ she did manage to finish the sentence as another contraction followed really quickly “Maybe this morning in the shower…”  more pain rippled through her “I have no fucking clue, Rowan,” she growled.

“Damn,” he resumed his position between her legs “Aelin, you are well advanced in your labour and almost fully dilated.”

He stared at his wife close her eyes and grit her teeth as another contraction rippled through her.

“It’s too late to take you to the hospital, we are delivering here.” Elide looked at him and nodded in approval. Plus, considered the weather, Aelin would probably end up delivering in the ambulance along the road. No, the firehouse was a safer location.

“Ro, I just thought it was false labour.”

“Yeah, well, our daughter seems to think otherwise, fireheart.” Rowan gave her a big smile and tried to be as supportive as possible.

It was when Aelin screamed out loud once more that he noticed his daughter’s head crowning.

“Fireheart, Maya is coming.”

Elide took position behind him but let him deliver his daughter. She trusted his skills and was ready to jump in if needed.

“Ae, I need you to push at the next contraction,”

And so Aelin did, over and over and over until Rowan held their crying daughter in his strong arms “You did it, my love.” Aelin was positive her husband was crying.

Elide grabbed the baby and checked her while Rowan went to kiss Aelin “You have done so well, my love and she is gorgeous.”

While Elide was cleaning and checking on the baby, Rowan enveloped his crying wife in his arms “Is she okay?” She sobbed hard.

“She is healthy,” added Elide while passing the baby to Rowan “But we should go to the hospital as soon as it’s safe.”

Rowan nodded and Elide left, probably to give the good news to the team and also to allow the new parents some privacy.

“I am sorry baby,” cooed Aelin as Rowan passed Maya to her “I just thought you were being very active, sorry my love.”

Rowan chuckled “Well, it will be a very interesting story to tell. You are so stubborn you ignored that you were in labour.”

“Maya, don’t listen to him, your dad is a mean old man.”

Rowan kissed his daughter’s head and in that instant the baby girl opened her eyes and pine green meet green.

“Ro, she is a mini you.”

His arm went behind Aelin and he pulled them both close “I love you so much,”

“She is here…” whispered Aelin almost incredulous.

Rowan placed his pinky in her tiny fingers and she gripped softly and at the gesture he almost cried on the spot again.

Elide came back ten minutes later and while she checked on Aelin, Rowan grabbed Maya and decided to introduce the little girl to the crazy band of aunties and uncles.

“Now, my love, we are going to meet a lot of people who will probably love you just as much mum and I do.”

His daughter looked up at him and cooed happily.

He entered the common room and silence fell.

“Are you all ready to meet Maya?” He turned to allow everyone to look at the tiny bundle in his arms.

Joy spread in the room and then Rowan turned to Brullo “I can’t keep her away from Aelin too long but I want you to be the first one to hold her,”

The man’s eyes were moist with emotion and with extended arms he took the baby from Rowan.

“Welcome to the world, Maya. You have been part of this family since the day your dad told us Aelin was pregnant,” he kissed the girl’s head “You will always be welcome in this house.”

Slowly Maya was passed around all the members who were eager to finally met her, but when she started fussing, Rowan claimed his daughter back and joined his wife once more.

“Did she meet them all?”

Rowan smiled and placed his daughter in her mother’s arms “she did, and they are all in love already. Brullo cried.”

“Did Elide check on you?”

Aelin nodded in a tired way “she wants to go to the hospital as soon as possible, though.”

He brushed huis wife’s hair “I agree. We need to check on both of you.”

“Is the storm still raging?”

Rowan nodded “we’ll go very slowly. I hate this but I want to make sure you are both okay.”

His wife nodded tiredly and Elide came back in that instant “Nox did a quick check on the ambulance and I called the hospital in advance.”

Rowan, reluctantly took Maya back from her mother and passed her to Elide, while he lifted his wife in his arms.

“I will make sure to leave you a five stars review for service.”

Once in the ambulance he passed Maya back and covered them both with a blanket and nodded to Elide.

“I will stay with the two of you. We’ll let the man drive.”

The drive to the hospital had been long and painfully slow. Rowan was positive he broke road rules for slow speed, but he was not risking all of their lives.

At the emergency room they were met by Sorscha who had a doctor and a paediatrician ready. Elide and Rowan both followed and lingered in the waiting room for the all clear.

The doctor came back ten minutes later “They are both fine. Aelin is exhausted and we are keeping an eye on her while her body finishes the afterbirth process,” she explained “your little girl is healthy too and she is busy having lunch now.”

Rowan relaxed. They were both fine.

“Go and see them before we head back to the station,” Elide pushed his elbow and nodded towards the door.

Rowan walked to the room’s doors and once inside his heart melted at the scene. Aelin was sitting in bed, in her arms Maya was nursing and he stood immobile for a moment. Incredulous that he had a daughter and a family.

“Come, Ro.”

At his wife’s voice he took a step and then another and sat down on the bed at Aelin’s side.

“She was so hungry.”

“Like mother, like daughter.”

“Hey,” retorted Aelin in false indignation “She looks like you, I am glad she took something from my gene pool.”

Rowan kissed her head and stared at his daughter. He was itching to hold her and touch her again but didn’t want to disturb the baby while she was feeding.

“Elide and I will have to go back to the station. Our shift will be over tomorrow morning, I will come and see you then and bring clothes for both.”

Aelin looked at him and went for a kiss “Please drive safely.”

He kissed her deeply and then kissed Maya’s head inhaling the scent of a newborn baby “Love you both.”

*

It was three days later when Aelin was finally discharged from the hospital and Rowan was happy it had happened on his day off. The storm had abated a day earlier but Orynth was still covered in a thick layer of snow. The roads were clear but he still drove carefully while Aelin called him grampa.

Their house in the outskirts was surrounded by heavy snow, but Rowan had spent the morning cleaning and gritting the driveway.

He got out of the car and ran to his wife’s side and opened the door “M’lady,” he then ran to the the back door and removed an attentive Maya from her car seat and passed her to Aelin.

Once in the house Aelin started walking around while Rowan was unpacking all of their belongings “Welcome home, Maya.”

Rowan was busy preparing lunch when he walked back to the living room and saw Aelin standing in front of the fireplace with Maya in her arms, swaying her gently. He leaned against the doorframe and took in that image, treasured the infinite happiness that he was feeling.

“See this, Maya?” Aelin nodded at the box with the piece of metal from the hangar “A cold January four years ago, that’s when I met your dad,” Aelin turned to Rowan and winked at him “He was grumpy and a mean old man,” Rowan walked closer and pulled Aelin against his chest while his arms circled his wife and daughter too “See? They were bad at fire prevention, so mum had to go and save him. It took me a while but I finally had him to fall in love with me.”

Maya cooed happily and gave her parents a gummy smile.

“Yes, you just listen to mum.”

“Fireheart, I let this pass because you had our daughter and I honestly I don’t care,” he nibbled at her ear “What matters is now. Our family and our future.”

“Maya, you should also know that your dad is an old sap.”

Rowan squeezed them both “And I wear it like a badge of honour.”

Aelin hummed in approval and let him sway them both. While they stared at the piece of metal.

For years since that cold January day. Since the fire that changed their lives and fate threw them together.

Through pain, through loss, through hard times and happy memories.

Rowan looked at the piece of metal and realised that it had all been worth it. The journey there to the day in which he would hold his two most precious women in his arms. 

“Come on, bottomless pits, time to feed you both.”

Aelin grabbed Maya’s tiny hand and gently smacked Rowan’s “Brute.”

The echo of their laughters filled the house.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @whimsicallyreading​ @elentiyawhitethorn​ @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj​ @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories​ @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire​ @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck​ @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee

[melodyalanaroster]

Update As of 02/16/2024

Holy crap... I just re-found the post that I made in 2021 talking about how I thought that my story would be ending that year... Here we are in 2024 and I'm still not done...

Then again, I thought I would cover all of High School Life in 2 chapters and Love Life in 1... Boy, was I wrong back then....

As of right now, I have 1 section left to write on my Episode 24 chapter and then I can begin working on the Episode 25 chapter. The prom chapter is underway but has a long way to go. After that, I can continue to work on my plans for the rest of the HSL chapters, leading up to Prom. The Extras chapter has a lot of stuff that might be splintered off and turned into their own chapters. The "Love Life chapter" is going to continue to be broken into pieces, I just need to finish each piece until its completely done.

I wanted to get more than 2 chapters posted in 2023, but getting engaged and buying a house is a lot to do in just 1 year. On top of that, my fiancé and I have picked a 2026 wedding date and have begun planning the event... I've currently got 4 boxes of wedding stuff in my office closet... Trust me, that's only the tip of the iceberg of what I'm dealing with in real life...

I have gotten slightly into doll collecting (thanks to Barbie Summer). I've also started reading the A Court of Thorns And Roses series by Sarah J. Maas. I'm on the second book and I'm purposely taking a while to read it. I did beat the DLCs to Pokémon Violet. I'm just at the point where I can hunt the legendaries. I've also commissioned Drachea Rannak for an image of my Sailor Scout, which will fulfill a dream I've had for almost 20 years... That dream being to have him do an image of one of my oldest Self Inserts, Sailor Melody... Yes, Alana's Sailor Scout Form (Sailor Aria), is actually Sailor Melody. Ever since I first found the Sailor Scout Maker on Doll Divine (when I was in late elementary/early middle school), I've wanted to commission Drachea for an image of my Sailor Scout. A couple of weeks ago, I finally paid the $70 for that image. I'll be getting the finished product turned into a wall scroll for my office.

As for New Gen, I'm not invested in it. I didn't get in invitation to the Beta. I'm probably not really gonna play it for more than the character creation... And I am definitely not gonna write a fanfic. I have too much to do for Alana's story to worry too much about Serena's. The most you might get from me on that part is Alana and Serena crossing paths... Maybe a little side story about Serena not wanting to go near any of the places under control of the Roster, Mekina and Chevalier families... But that's it.

I've been considering having an art book made of the art I've commissioned over the years... But only for my personal shelves... And, at this rate, the physical copy idea that I've had for when my fanfic is finished will only be for my personal shelves as well.

I'm taking the week of my mother's death anniversary off, as usual... So I will have all of that week to work on my stuff and get more done.

My goal is to have my Episode 24 chapter posted by March 10th, 2024.

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Tørrfall

Photo by Iver Findlay

Tørrfall are a Norwegian trio who've been playing together since (at least) 2020, recorded their self-titled debut live in August 2021, but just released it this past March. Vocals and synthesizer are provided by Nils Erga (Noxagt, Burning Axis), bass by Kristoffer Riis (Golden Oriole, Staer), and drums by Thore Warland (Golden Oriole, Staer, Burning Axis). Dusted’s Ian Mathers summed up their self-described “psychedelic water music” as “a bad-trip, submarine cousin of the Necks’ Drive By.” Here, all three members talk about 10 releases that could have influenced the Tørrfall record.

Ivor Cutler and Linda Hirst — “Women of the World” (Rough Trade, 1983)

Nils: The Norwegian broadcasting company, NRK, used to have excellent radio DJs. I believe I only heard this song once upon release, and as a nine-year-old boy, I never caught who sang it, what it was called, or what the lyrics were all about. And then it was gone! But the impossibly catchy melody of the chorus – the song is essentially one single mantra-like, cascading chorus – never left me, and as I grew older, I would replay it in my head repeatedly, hundreds and hundreds of times. In 1999, Jim O'Rourke did a cover version, which I accidentally got to hear, and I was stunned. There it was again, finally! That song!  

Cocteau Twins — The Spangle Maker (4AD, 1984)

Nils: Growing up in the Stavanger region in the 1980s, the UK was never far away. Back then, you could hop on the ferry to Newcastle or fly directly to London or Aberdeen (you'd be there in an hour or so). My older sister brought this back from one of her trips to the Thatcher Empire. Back then, I loved all that 4AD stuff, but in hindsight, Cocteau Twins were the best of all the then-current acts she so generously introduced me to. And Elisabeth Fraser never sounded more lost, more gothic, more out-of-this-world than on this one (the Treasure LP that came out the same year is rather wonderful too). Dream pop, indeed.

Basic Channel et al. — Any 12" under any moniker (Basic Channel, 1990s)

Nils: I can't remember the first Basic Channel-related 12" that I heard, but I remember becoming instantly hooked – what is this sound? – so I started collecting everything I could find during those early days of the Internet. When listening to this music now, whether it's Main Street, Maurizio, Basic Channel or Rhythm & Sound (preferably loudly and on big speakers), I still feel like time is slowly dissolving. Or it bends and can no longer be trusted. And often, continuing down this path of truly psychedelic techno, I still find myself lost in the strangely lit woods of Wolfgang Voigt's late 90s GAS records, which are equally transcendental.

Steely Dan — Gaucho (MCA, 1980)

Nils: Hey Nineteen! I first heard this record in my early twenties, and back then, the whole Steely Dan vibe didn't appeal much, nor did it make much sense. But I knew they were named after a William Burroughs-invented "artefact", so I gathered there had to be something there. It turns out there was, in spades (check out Donald and Walter's open letters to celebrities whose careers they worry about for further reading). Anyway, Steely Dan is now my favourite band for watching waves roll by from the balcony, closely followed by early ZZ Top. And this is their magnum opus, in my humble opinion. The Royal Scam and Aja aren't far off, though.

Armando Sciascia — After the End (Suite For String Orchestra & Synthesizer) (Vedette Records, 1971)

Kristoffer: Armando Sciascia, the Abruzzese custodian of the whole-tone scale. While some of his output during the 60s and 70s is admittedly quite stylized with its particular and sometimes overstated tonality, this album strikes a balance between classical principle and impious mischief, while being texturally tantalizing with its fine Italian blend of acoustic and synthetic arrangements. A bit hard to come by, although some of the tracks were available on the 1972 compilation Infini alongside Fabio Fabor on the slightly more obtainable Musique Pour L'Image imprint.

Camille Sauvage — Fantasmagories (Editions Montparnasse 2000, 1974)

Kristoffer: In some ways, Camille Sauvage was a French counterpart to Armando Sciascia, but with a markedly different sense of melody all his own. Sauvage composed some richly decorated harmonic showpieces that characterize this period in his discography, either under his real name or one of several pseudonyms, notably Eric Framond—and the orchestration was almost always over-the-top with shrill Edda Dell'Orso-esque vocals and screeching brass that nearly couldn't contain itself. On Fantasmagories, however, he shows a more nocturnal and contemplative side, really damp and littered with fragments of this and that.

Marcos Valle — Vento Sul (Odeon, 1972)

Kristoffer: While there is no shortage of Brazilian contenders with Edu Lobo, Gilberto Gil, Caetano Veloso, Os Mutantes and the lot, I regularly return to this one. It's Marcos Valle's best in my opinion, and there's not much more to be said about it. A really strong and playful MPB album.

Philip Glass — Music with Changing Parts for Ensemble (Chatham Square Editions, 1971)

Thore: The relentless electric organ stuff that Philip Glass did in the late 60s and early 70s I really like. This one is with saxophones, trumpet, violin, flutes and voices.

Boyd Rice — Boyd Rice (Mute, 1981)

Thore: Hysterical and also quite calming, the loops never get boring.

Ike Yard — Ike Yard (A Second) (Factory America, 1982)

Thore: Minimal and catchy, I love this one. Seems to be a timeless classic.

[preciouspuregarnet]

Things have been really tough for me lately. There's been a few things, so I guess I should start somewhere.

Around September last year I was put on androcur instead of Spirix. Due to the fucked up situation of trans healthcare in Norway, I'm thankfully getting hormones through my GP after starting up on private in March last year. Unfortunately my GP did not have a lot of experience with HRT, at least not for trans people. This caused her to read the values wrong on Spirix and I was getting too much potassium in my blood, since Spirx preserves it. What has ended up happening is that the androcur treatment has affected my life negatively. Both in terms of general well-being, emotions and sexual function. I am thankfully getting back on Spirix, which has already helped out with my sexual function, lust and sex drive. The damage has already been done, though. I'll be coming back to that.

This part might be really long, but I need to get this out somehow. I met a girl soon after, around October. At first we were just exchanging looks. She'd always been in my class, but I just did not notice her. We met formally at a gathering for our class. I noticed how she was looking at me, staring a bit at times. I looked at her and wondered if she was interested. I didn't say anything that evening.

I got to add her on Snapchat and eventually shot her a message, asking if she'd want to meet up for coffee. She was happy to, and we got to talking, found a good bit of common ground, got into some deep stuff early on. At the end of that, at the café, I ask her if she had been interested in me. She looked at me, a little shocked, saying "I didn't think I had a chance with you." It was incredibly flattering, even if a bit unfortunate she would think that way. We agreed I'd take her out on a date, and she was happy to. We'd meet here and there for class and so on.

Later we met up at a Halloween party, where I looked fly as fuck in my witch outfit. She was adorable in her Minion's outfit, of everything. Still funny to think about. When I found her, she was so happy to see me. I felt deeply appreciated. We had a lot of lovely looks and chit-chat before we headed into a room she was allowed in. This was in some student apartments. We sat down to talk, but got interrupted quickly by some friends of hers. An hour later, we're in her apartment, chatting and figuring things out.

She tells me she's not really looking for a relationship. And to elaborate she says "she doesn't feel like she has a lot to bring to the table" in terms of a relationship. Continuing, she also says she hasn't had good experiences being with other girls. While this brought me immense gender euphoria, I was saddened to hear this was the case. She had always felt like she had to hide it, and I knew that even if we weren't going to be a couple, I would not hide how I felt about her in front of others.

We slept together, but she wanted to sleep alone that evening. I respected that, of course, and we'd see each other later. We only became closer after that, and I started falling in love with her. I even dreamt we told each other that, but I was too scared to tell her. In hindsight, I feel maybe I should've just told her. We felt a lot of the same for each other, would share lovely compliments and words. We had something between a romantic relationship and a friendship. It wasn't quite either. I ended up wanting to tell her how I felt, but with her own struggles and in a hefty period of exams, I couldn't find the appropriate time. She had to move back home, due to complications with the studies. She decided to, rather. She did not stay for me, which I completely understand. I told her, before she left for the plane, and I drove her to the airport, "I know there's a good bit of practical stuff between us. I wish we had more time. And I wish we could've been more." She did not quite reply, but she was moved, and hugged me. We kissed a last time, and that was that.

After this, our communication worsened across social media. I tried to hold onto her, keep her close, but things did not work out well. The more time went on, the more distant and cold she became towards me. I understand now, and in the moment, she had a lot to deal with herself, and was working all the time. She'd only work and sleep. It hurt, even while I understood the situation. It was extremely stressful and straining for about a whole month. We had agreed to see each other last weekend. And we did, but it didn't quite turn out how I had anticipated.

We were supposed to spend the weekend together, but it ended up being an evening. A dinner at some restaurant, and then dessert at McDonald's. Meeting her again was unnerving and harsh. She was friendly, and I tried to be too. We had a nice chat during dinner. We cleared some stuff up, but the rough talk was to come. In a McDonald's. I paid for dinner and she got us McFlurries.

I could not have anticipated what she told me. Telling me about how she had felt when we were intimate. While everything was lovely at the time, she revealed some of the trauma she had been suffering from. As I said, I'd get back to the talk about hormones. The androcur had made things very difficult for me, even if I was completely satisfied with just pleasuring her. It did not work so well for her when I was not getting hard, and I had to use Viagra to function. And even then it wasn't working properly. The androcur, had in other words, ruined a lot of our time together and induced her with a terrible feeling of inadequacy. I felt awful and even shocked in the moment.

She also brought up the distance matter, as well as what sort of relationship we both need, and what we need out of one. Firstly, I did not get to tell her I was wanting to go back on Spirix, which for me worked very well when I was on it previously. Secondly, our experiences with long-distance was 10 years ago each, and we have both surely have matured a lot since then. Finally, I believe I have idealised what a relationship should be like, instead of adapting my expectations to the sort of relationship I could have with the other gal I find interest in. We did not get to talk about these things, as she had to go. She had slept 2 hours the night before and had worked that day.

Our goodbye hurt. We were both clearly moved by how it turned out. We agreed to continue being friends. I am not sure what she meant, as she has not been in touch with me, and I don't even know of she wants to see me again. She told me she loved me, and I told her I love her too (platonically). I am just.. very unsure now. I am giving things some time now, but I know I want to talk to her about these things. I am very confused as to what sort of friendship we have.

I am tired. So very, very tired. This whole period has drained me, and I feel indifferent or generally bad about things. It's difficult to enjoy things, and I worry I am going to suffer from depression again. Hormones have been really rough on me, starting back on Spirix on Monday. I feel lonely. I feel like I don't belong anywhere. Anything I work on is difficult to appreciate. Anything I try to spend time on in my spare time is hard to enjoy.

I don't know what to do. It is difficult to connect to my feelings after all this. Might be a defensive mechanism, to prevent further damage to myself. I am just waiting to get help from local and special health services. It might be a long while.

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

Its been a super duper exciting couple weeks which culminated in an App Store feature for Stream! As an Apple developer you dream of stuff like this but don’t expect it to happen. At least I didn’t. It’s quite an honor and I’ll be on Cloud 9 for a while.❤️

CNN

“Suzanne Somers passed away peacefully at home in the early morning hours of October 15th. She survived an aggressive form of breast cancer for over 23 years,” Hay wrote in a statement shared on behalf of the actress’ family.

R.I.P. 🪦

Marc Adreessen

Our enemy is the ivory tower, the know-it-all credentialed expert worldview, indulging in abstract theories, luxury beliefs, social engineering, disconnected from the real world, delusional, unelected, and unaccountable – playing God with everyone else’s lives, with total insulation from the consequences.

Someone stayed up way too late reading the works of Ayn Rand and in a ketamine driven manic state started writing.

Clearly Andreessen has been smoking his own supply and is so privileged and ultra wealthy he has no clue what real life is like any longer.

I chose to share the paragraph above because he’s basically describing himself and his fellow libertarian tech bros looking to build a perfect society on the backs of a servant class. Us.

One day this piece will be part of some psychological study on the harms of the early 21st century wrought by a class of technology oligarchs.

We’re all just trying to survive out here, save the planet, and help others along the way. You want the exact opposite. All you care about are wealth and power at the expense of all else.

Go enjoy the outdoors with a loved one and chill. Oh, and lay off the microdosing.

Dylan Scott • Vox

In the coming weeks, the majority of Americans will engage in a bizarre, mildly terrifying, distinctly American seasonal ritual. I refer, of course, to open enrollment — the time when you sign up for your health insurance plan.

As far as I know we’re still the only major country in the world with a second rate sense of healthcare.

Healthcare for all is just what the doctor ordered. A healthy America is a better American, just as an educated America is a better America. So, while we’re getting healthcare for all taken care of let’s make all state universities free of charge.

Paul Stamatiou

It was March 2020, I was in New England when covid quarantine had just begin and I found myself much more homebound. In these situations I’m not one to just do nothing. I always have some sort of project or hobby to keep me busy, be it taking and editing photos, writing detailed blog posts, or coding something.

Holy cow is this app beautiful! It’s a real bummer it’s never seen the light of day but I understand his reasons.

It’s a shame nobody bought this from him, hired him, and let him see it to fruition, it’s an incredible piece of work. 👍🏼

Jason Snell • Six Colors

If I had a dime for every “Apple’s going to release a low-end product to compete with other low-end devices” rumor, I’d have a hefty bank account by now. And you can find plenty of stories debunking this report as “sketchy.” At the risk of giving this report more credulity than it deserves, let me try to understand what this report might actually mean.

I’m not a longtime Apple device user, I started in 2006, but I can say this doesn’t sound like something Apple would do. 🍎

Daniel Lemire

The C++ library has long been organized around stream classes, at least when it comes to reading and parsing strings. But streams can be surprisingly slow.

Call me crazy but I still love C++ as a development language. I never really dove into streams, I used std::string, std::vector, and std::map a ton but not with streams.

The language has morphed so much since 2014 I hardly recognize it. That’s not a bad thing, they’re just trying to make it easier to use and safer for developers.

Anywho, interesting read if you’re into C++ or languages and performance in general.

Chloe Veltman • NPR

Netflix recently shuttered the longstanding mail-order DVD service that led to the closure of video stores around the world and ushered in the era of streaming. But now the company appears to be embracing brick and mortar.

Heh, let’s come full circle and open a physical location! 🤣

Now, if they include Blu-ray and DVD rentals that would be amazing! Perhaps they can take over all the shuttered Blockbusters that haven’t been turned into something else?

Meera Navlakha • Mashable

But some spots are closing their doors on influencers, raising questions. Take Dae, a design shop and cafe in Brooklyn. As reported by Curbed, the space was inundated by influencers carrying tripods, to the point where the owners decided to ban them entirely.

I can understand businesses doing this if the gaggle of influencers are forcing regulars and paying customers to avoid their favorite haunt. It doesn’t seem unreasonable at all.

Asher Fair • Beyond the Flag

Carson Hocevar has been formally announced as Spire Motorsports’ third driver for the 2024 NASCAR Cup Series season, replacing Ty Dillon.

I’m happy for Carson Hocevar and bummed for Ty Dillon.

Hocevar has driven a few Cup races this season and has proven himself a fast, talented, racer. He has a lot to learn about rubbing elbows with the big boys but he’ll learn.

As for Dillion I wonder where he’ll land? As far as I know there aren’t any Cup Series seats open. Maybe Xfinity or Truck Series? Regardless, I wish him well.

[Fritz Bogott • AutoDesk Instructables]

After several years of baking in North House Folk School’s wood-fired brick oven, I decided to build an oven of my own. I went a little crazy with extra features (slab foundation, arches, ash dump, chimney, doors, wood storage) and decorations (limestone around the foundation), but you can make a very usable version in a weekend with salvaged materials and a couple of friends.

Folks always make this look so easy! I’d never complete a project like this! But boy does it sound amazing.

I’m thinking a Roccbox is more my speed! 🤣

Ron Amadeo • Ars Technica

After ChatGPT disruption, Stack Overflow lays off 28 percent of staff

Yikes! The industry is at the beginning of yet another transformation and this one is happening very rapidly. I’d be lying if I didn’t say this terrifies me at some level because I’m essentially “aging out” at this point in my career. I always thought I’d have to learn JavaScript to continue on as a developer. Instead I may have to become a “Prompt Engineer” to bend the LLM’s to my will.

I still refuse to call it AI. 😃

Cory Doctorow

Amazon’s bestselling “bitter lemon” energy drink was bottled delivery driver piss

This is an amazing story! How in the world can someone game the system so hard they’re able to sell urine bottled as an energy drink? It also exposes Amazon, yet again, as a sweat shop. This time with drivers.

[kaoarika]

It's been a while since I started to frequent Panini Manga MX's fb and twitter account, and I can finally say that I got my pace of muting content from them that I don't particularly care for (which is basically animanga youtubers/tiktokers and other stuff that kinda makes me cringe, lol) in twt.

Tbh I have been way out of date in getting to know which series they have been releasing or licensing and since I started to get into my manga buying habit again since past April, well. I cannot say the same for other publishers, tbh... and I think they are the ones that carry more variety of JPN publishers these days? but that's still pretty minimal in comparison to what the US does these days, but... you know... I don't think our economy can sustain much of that (still a big difference when it was the mid 2000s, however), so... well.

Sometime around the late 2010s Panini (or their social media managers, tbh) realized that there were TOO many people asking for x or y titles on their posts so, to avoid the traffic of those suggestions on posts that CLEARLY are not about that, they started to do suggestion posts, once per week, in their social media accounts.

I am definitely not sure if they TRULY 100% pay attention to them... maybe they do, who knows... at least they aren't shooting them down like certain others in public asks of tumblr circa early-to-mid 2010s... (and I mean, I did see a couple of series being shot down due to reasons... but never in a condescent manner of "you are already reading this on pirate websites, and I'm SURE you aren't going to buy these no matter what").

I'm not sure... point is, I do see suggestions that range from "anime adaptation is actually airing this season/available in streaming for a while", "other series by already published authors in Spanish", "license rescue" and so and so. I don't have to bet that some of those are "already reading these but I want to own them, too" suggestions, too. Sometimes it's a little obvious given the culture we live in, lol.

I dunno.

However, I do have a wish list of stuff that I REALLY, REALLY want to have on my hands and some of these, I have already suggested in their twt account :)

Week One

Principal, Ikuemi Ryo

Look, from the stuff that I have read of Ikuemi... I love it. Some are a little weird, ngl, and tend to have a somewhat "dark" tone in them so, if I had a more introductory series that might not scare someone because "old" (because Ikuemi's first works are from the late 70s or very-early 80s)... I would put more "newer" stuff like Principal or her more "adult" series. Also, Principal is not exactly "too" typical school life romance, and the cast is loveable to a certain degree. (Also the covers. I want to see how the publisher's graphic design team adapts these into Spanish?)

Cousin, Ikuemi Ryo

ORRRRR... there's Cousin. I think this was Ikuemi's only licensed series in the States, until the publisher went kaput, and I think the series is interesting on its own (and short!) about body image issues, some family trauma and a little too taboo-ish "romance" of sorts. It's complicated, just like every other Ikuemi series, I guess. So, I think of either this or Principal, lol (better be both) as introductory series of hers.

Dame na Watashi ni Koi Shite Kudasai, Nakahara Aya

Lovely Complex has already been concluded for a little while, and somehow... somehow, that gives them the perfect excuse to publish DameKoi, which is basically the other "famous" Nakahara series. It's a fun series, from the little I have read, lol. The characters are silly and all that. It would be fun to read it all through, that's what I'm saying. More adult comedy romance series like Wotakoi, please, lol.

Honey and Clover, Umino Chica

I haven't gotten the opportunity to read or watch this series... and somehow I THINK March Comes in Like a Lion could have a better chance (as it more known, more recent, still being published? but I say, test the waters with Umino's previous work (especially more if you want to enjoy the characters' cameos in a latter part of 3gatsu?). I know this is also licensed in English, but the physical version is out of print these days and I am not going to spend THAT much money on them.

Minegishi-san wa Outsu-kun ni Tabesasetai (also known as Manly Appetites), by Mito

...Yeah.... I know this is licensed in English right now, too? And I could potentially get it this way... but I don't want to basically spend the double of what it may cost in Spanish? You get where I come from with this, right ;A;? (says the one that has basically spent a lot in manga in one month alone, but that's because series are now costing what an imported volume from Spain or the US might have cost me 10 years ago) I recently started to buy BL series that caught my attention, and to be honest, I just... this one is definitely under my radar of tastes, lol. I also want variety in the leads' bodies, because I do like chubby/fat guys and food, lol (and truly, I wish shoujo/josei and other romance series had diversity bodies in their leads, tbh).

I'm going to make these posts some kind of series because I don't have time to explain on Twitter WHY I want these to get licensed in physical in my country, lol. They say the sky is the limit, but I try to pick out 4-5 series each week, and sometimes I just feel like repeating my suggestions because they get drowned by other popular series (like, sure, I might want to get Monthly Girls' Nozaki-kun in Spanish, too... heck, as much as I suffer with Karekano... a license rescue is also valid for those that were younger and didn't get the opportunity to collect the Vid edition from over 15 years ago, I want to get Maison Ikkoku, too? and so and so...). I also want to throw a few manhwa/webtoon suggestions here and there that, afaik, have physical versions because the missed opportunity of this market too (I think Tower of God is the only one getting published in Spanish?).

But... I sometimes feel this IS silly. It feels like screaming into a void. And there's a lot that I could suggest, just because I read something, I was moved by it... and my god, I wish I could grab it anytime I could. I know plenty might be hard to be published for one reason or another... and sometimes I don't feel like collecting over a 30+ volume series either these days (Ranma being an exception... that's the hole I dug myself into and I didn't reach half of the series, either... been on hold up for a while until they do more reprints of oop volumes) especially for space in my room.

I'm still amazed in a way how this whole manga industry situation about licenses here has changed... essentially because I have been collecting manga series since the early 2000s when there was not many options than "comic book format" and "half a volume for 20 pesos" until they FINALLY gave into the "full tankoubon"-like format. There used to be some kind of monopoly before it also went kaput in 2009, a sub-publisher also went kaput because tbh I don't think they seemed to know how to manage comics and manga licenses (and physical distribution of them, too!) a few years ago... and now there's two big book publishers that are also trying their hand at this (although their physical distribution kinda sucks because book stores and not many of them carry them as a whole; especialized animanga/comic book stores MIGHT, though). We definitely don't have the same level of economy as, say the US or Spain, but, I suppose something is something.

[kun-summacumlaude]

SUMMA CUM LAUDE? #18

I'm keeping my word, it's about 3 weeks since my last post and I'm already working on the next one.

Hello Peoples

So I've been telling everyone this is week 3 but for some reason I'm the only one that believes the convocation week (week 1) counts. Anyhoo, today is day 3 of week 2, and I've had only two actual classes. I should have stayed at home, but that's too late now.

Just to give a little update on how the semester started for me. I resumed last week (my own week 2) because I spent all of convocation on completing Breaking Bad. But last week I moved to anime, I thought being in school would get me serious again but that didn't work. What finally did the job was having my first lecture (online) but she was so serious about the class that I got serious right after that class.

The engineering student, Kunle, is back. *Sheds tears from suffering*. I already want to go home, I'm looking forward to the short election break. I hope it's like one week long. Jaja is as Jaja as ever and I want to go home for a breather. It seems I didn't fully recover from the intensity of the final push last semester until this week. I was so tired last week and I struggled to sit down and study for a significant amount of time. Feb 1.

Omo nawa o, February 16 today and I am very tired of school. Election break is three weeks long (God is good). I honestly cannot wait to go home, it's almost like I've pulled the student plug in me. My plan was to move with each lecturer as the classes commenced, this has worked well so far except in 3 courses where I have a lot of questions to solve. Last time I posted I hadn't seen any of my second semester results but as at the time I started this post I had seen about 1 or 2 but now I've seen 6.

Year 2, 2nd Semester SCL ?

6/6 As. Four to go, I'm hopeful. Super hopeful. Getting a 5.00 SGPA would be lovely. Regardless, these results are the Grace of God because three of those six As were a huge relief considering how the tests and exams went. I wanted to keep mum about the results until I saw everything but I want to take you through my emotions. Current mood: happy but slightly anxious.

Let me quickly return to present academics. After 6pm, it is such a struggle to study. Most of these past weeks I have slept off, achieving nothing in the evening and at night. 6pm I get dinner, after that I either go back to my room or the office and so far neither location has done the job for me. I really wish the library was 24/7 and allowed us take our stuff in. Currently , there's no toilet there, 9pm closure is way too early and not having my stuff with me inside is a problem. Sometimes you can't even charge your devices and all of my stuff is digital, doesn't work at all for me. I'm sure I've mentioned this before though, maybe in a much earlier post. I'll stop here for now, I really hope they release my the rest of my results before we go home for the election break. I want to know my cgpa while I'm grinding at home. Oh yes, my plan for the election break is to come back way ahead in all of the courses, so help me God.

Election Break

March 25, 2023. I returned from the election break on the 21st, the break about a month long. Nothing has changed, reading past 6pm is still a struggle, the four results left to see have still not been released and this most disappointing of all is that the only grinding I did at home was grind in my Clash of Clans. I'm even in a worse position now than I was before the break but I guess I have two months to get things in order. My election break would have gone well but I spent all four weeks worrying about how I was going to write a term paper on a course we hadn't had a single lecture on. That totally destabilised me and I lost all of my focus. An experience to learn from and navigate better in times to come because I'm sure another lecturer will give us a ridiculous assignment. That assignment was actually so ridiculous in hindsight, but I allowed it to have too much control over my actions during the break. To be fair to myself, I was very much invested in both elections and that itself was another distraction from grinding academically. I want to be in a good position academically so I can take out some time to participate in the next edition of ULES Games Festival so I'm ready to get the job done this semester by God's grace.

ULES GAMES FESTIVAL

We didn't have this last session because of covid, the strike and renovations for NUGA 2022. But this session it happened, and it just got concluded today. Metallurgical and Materials Engineering won more medals than any other department, congratulations to them. I only attended physically on the penultimate day but I absolutely enjoyed myself because I love sports. At some point I felt sad because one of my plans upon getting into university was to participate in sports. So far, I have done close to nothing in that area, and it made me sad, but I'll work towards it for 300 Level.

Academics

The next line of action is to assess the course outline and ascertain how bad things are, then improve on everything. I mean, what other approach is there to take?

I don't know if I should still wait for those results or just post. We'll find out eventually.

April 4, 2023

6.33PM, I'm at shop 10 eating my dinner when I open the class and see a text from Toki: "Results are out on lagmobile For those interested". Every rate in my body went up. To finish that food was a challenge, I kept on asking myself if I should check the results right there in shop 10 or wait until I got back to my room in Jaja. I eventually decided on the latter.

7.17PM, I open lagmobile to check my results. I quickly scanned through all the grades and didn't see a single B or C, at that moment it dawned on me. 5.0 SGPA!!!! SUMMA CUM LAUDE-ESQUE SEMESTER!!! It honestly felt surreal at that moment. I was like GOD! WOW! A 5.0 in a semester that felt so terrible for most of it, unbelievable scenes mehn. All Glory to God, because I cannot do such on my own, I would be a dirty liar if I said I could. I want to encourage you to trust in God when you pray, no matter how what kind of circumstances you're praying under, those things do no limit God. Today is April 8 but I'm typing like it's 4th, I just realised hehe. I'm reliving the moment; it was just such a good feeling inside of me. It's really lovely to achieve your goals, whew. More to come deo volente.

I guess that wraps up the first semester of 200 level, it was a lengthy ride to be honest. This wrap up is quite deep into second semester. Let me just mention that Dr. Ibhaze has come again, he gave us a test on physical electronics (EEG 226), 10 marks and we didn't know what to write. We can't catch a break with him, but I don't believe he'll use that test anyways, hopefully I'm not wrong (very hopefully).

For ease of calculating my cgpa, let me put the scores of each semester here. LevelSemester: TotalScore-TotalUnits Yr1S1: 66-14, Yr1S2: 78-16, Yr2S1: 100-20. CGPA moves from 4.80 to 4.88 (Huge!)

There's are so many social events going on in school at the moment, it's so easy to waste your time and then end up failing your tests. Dear reader, you cannot be everywhere. I won't say snub all events but be very picky with the ones you attend, select a few (very few o ejoor) and ignore the rest. You don't have that much time especially if you're behind in some courses. Don't set yourself up for struggle.

I'll end this post that has been pending for too long here, next time I'll probably have written a few tests, I pray I return to you with good news. Thank you and bye bye :)

Check the date I made this note:

God is good !

[storiesforallfandoms]

the type you bring home to mom ~ eddie kaspbrak;it chapter two

word count: 2361

request?: no

description: in which he finally brings his girlfriend home to his over protective mother, and it goes exactly as he thought it would

pairing: teen!eddie kasprak x female!reader

warnings: swearing, overbearing mother, derogatory name calling (i guess?), basically eddie’s mom just sucking

masterlist (one, two)

note: (y/n/p) = your parents’ names

I played with the hem of my dress as I walked up to the Kaspbrak household. I was regretting my choice in wardrobe, but it was too late to change now. I knew nothing would feel right anyways, I had already changed three times before I came over.

For the first time in our year long relationship, I was meeting Eddie’s mother. We had somehow managed to keep our relationship a secret for so long that I never felt like I had to meet her, and Eddie wasn’t exactly pushing for it either. As much as he loved his mom, he also knew she was manipulative and overbearing, and he often told me how he was afraid of his mom scaring me off because of these facts.

When the news eventually got out and travelled quickly through the small town of Derry, as gossip usually does, it got to Ms. Kaspbrak in no time. She immediately demanded to meet me, and Eddie set up a dinner at his house for the occasion.

Before I could even knock on the door, it swung open to reveal my tall boyfriend smiling down at me. Any tension I had melted away as I looked up at him, into those beautiful eyes that could calm me down whenever they were on me. He took my face in his hands and pulled me to kiss him. It was such a normal action that, at first, I leaned into it happily, until I realized the circumstances of my visit and quickly pushed him away.

“She’s not here,” he said, as if reading my worried thoughts. “She’s gone out to get some stuff for dinner.”

He stepped aside to let me step into the house. It wasn’t unfamiliar territory; Eddie and I had had many rendezvous there during the rare moments when his mom wasn’t home, but it felt wrong to be there on this occasion. I just wanted it to end already, and to go home or go for a long drive with Eddie.

“Come, sit,” he said, leading me to his living room. We sat close to one another on the couch, so close that we were just barley touching. Feeling his arm brush against mine sent sparks through me.

“How worried should I be?” I asked him, trying to remain as light as possible.

He sighed and shuffled in his seat. “I wish I could tell you not at all, but...”

He trailed off so I finished his sentence for him, “But it’s your mom.”

Eddie nodded. “But it’s my mom.”

One of his arms was around my waist. I hadn’t realized that the skirt of my dress had hiked up a little until the hand around my waist started to play with the hem, his fingertips brushing against my ass. His other hand touched my leg, starting lightly on my knee and then slowly travelling up my thigh till it stopped on my inner thigh. I shivered, wanting him to go further.

Most people who knew him would never believe that Eddie Kaspbrak, the hypochondriac, fast talking, former sheltered mama’s boy, would be absolutely mind blowing in bed, and constantly handsy whenever we were alone. I hadn’t even believed it until we got together, but man, Eddie knew how to make me feel absolutely amazing.

He leaned forward to kiss my neck, his fingers tracing circles in my inner thigh. I was shivering with anticipation and whimpers were escaping my lips. I could feel Eddie’s amused smirk against my neck as he placed another kiss there and lifted his head to look at me. He kissed my lips and his hand finally made its way further up my skirt.

Our moment was interrupted by the sound of a car door slamming. I practically jumped to the other side of the couch, touching my neck in hopes that he hadn’t accidentally left hickies there.

“You’re good,” he said, understanding what I had been doing.

The front door opened and I suddenly felt paralyzed. I wasn’t sure if I should stand up or stay sat down, if I should move even further away from Eddie or stay exactly where I was. In the end, I stayed frozen like a deer in headlights as his mom rounded the corner, arms full of grocery bags.

“Oh,” she said when her eyes landed on me. “Is this...her?”

There was a slight leer to the way she said “her”, which made me want to squirm under her intense gaze.

“Mom,” Eddie said, a partial warning tone in his voice, “this is (Y/N), my girlfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Kaspbrak,” I said. “Do you, um, need any help with - ”

“No,” she cut me off. “I have it. You’re early.”

“I told her this is when to get here,” Eddie defended. “You wouldn’t tell me exactly when to invite her over.”

“Well, this is hardly dinner time,” his mother huffed. “It’ll take me a while to get dinner ready.”

“I can help,” I offered again.

“No,” she said, sharply, which told me that was the end of the matter.

I shrunk down in my spot on the couch.

“Mom,” Eddie snapped again.

She glared at me before turning to her son, trying to soften her expression for him. “I’ll let you know when the food is ready. For now...stay here.”

When she disappeared into the kitchen, Eddie immediately moved to sit next to me and took my hand in his.

“I’m okay,” I assured him. “I’ll get through it. It’s just dinner then we’re done, right?”

He nodded, but I could see the worry on his face still.

A while later, Ms. Kaspbrak called to tell us dinner was ready. She had made sure to place everything so that Eddie and I were sat at the heads of the table, far apart from one another, while she was sat between us. Eddie and I shared a look before sitting in our designated spots.

Dinner started with awkward silence besides our cutlery against the plates. I tried to keep my attention on my plate, but every so often I’d glance up at the Kaspbraks to see Eddie nervously glancing between me and his mother, and his mom just glaring daggers at me. The nervousness I was feeling took away my appetite, but I felt like I had to eat everything to make a good impression, if that was even possible.

“So,” Ms. Kaspbrak said, drawing our attention to her, “(Y/N). Your parents are (Y/P/N), right?”

She already knew the answer to this question. I had grown up in Derry, where everyone knew everyone. There was a reason she was asking, and I had a feeling I already knew what that reason was.

“They are, yeah,” I responded.

“And they’re divorced, aren’t they?”

“Mom!” Eddie groaned.

“It’s just a question, Eddie,” his mom said.

“It’s okay,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t mind talking about it. That’s kind of old news anyways. They divorced when I was 10, dad moved to the next town over and mom got full custody of me.”

“That doesn’t seem like a very stable upbringing,” Ms. Kaspbrak commented. “I’m sure it’s taken such a toll on you, you must’ve decided to rebel somehow.”

Eddie put his face in his hands, officially admitting defeat on trying to stop his mother.

“Actually it wasn’t anything like that,” I said. “Mom and dad stayed pretty civil. There wasn’t any big fight or anything, just an agreement that they’re better off not being married. When dad moved he made sure to stay in constant contact, and comes to visit all the time or I’d go to visit him. Mom always made sure I had a roof over my head and food on the table. They both love me unconditionally, even if they’re not together.”

Ms. Kaspbrak sat back in her seat, a sour look on her face. “Well...regardless, it’s just not right to be raised by a single mother.”

Feeling a bit brave, I raised an eyebrow at her. “Eddie was raised by a single mother.”

“That’s different. My husband died, he didn’t decide to abandon me and Eddie.”

“My dad didn’t abandon us, he’s still very much a part of our lives.”

She ignored me and continued to eat. I looked across the table at Eddie to see him avoiding all eye contact with either of us as he pushed his food around on his plate. As if feeling my gaze, he looked up at me. I gave him a small smile to try and indicate that I wasn’t upset with him. I wanted him to know everything was going to be okay, even if I didn’t fully believe it myself.

“How many boys have you had sex with, (Y/N)?”

The question caught me off guard and I nearly choked on the food I had just put in my mouth.

“Jesus Christ, mom!” Eddie snapped.

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vein, Edward,” his mother chastised him.

“You can’t just ask something like that, mom, that’s none of your business.”

“Of course it’s my business. I need to make sure my son isn’t dating a slut. I remember you were friends with Beverly March before she moved away, and trust me, I heard all sorts of stories about her. Anyone who would hang around with her must be somewhat similar.”

The mention of the untrue bullshit that used to be spread about Bev made the anger within me bubble over. I was seeing red as I looked up at Ms. Kaspbrak, and I was ready to pounce.

“Actually, your son took my virginity, and I took his,” I told her. “And we have sex quite a lot, sometimes upstairs in his bedroom when you’re not home. Although, for someone who says he was a virgin I don’t know how much I believe it. Eddie has done things that I don’t even think the most experienced of people could do.”

If he was upset with me for saying all of this, Eddie’s face didn’t show it. He was sipping on his water, trying to hide the smug smile that broke out across his face.

Ms. Kaspbrak’s face turned blood red before she rose from the table. “Get the fuck out of my house!”

“Gladly,” I said, abandoning my dinner to quickly leave the shitty situation.

“And don’t you dare come anywhere near my son again, or else I will have the cops on you!” she threatened.

I stopped and turned back to face her. “For what? For dating your son? For showing him that there’s someone who actually cares about him without manipulating him? For finally cutting the cord that you’ve had wrapped around his neck since he was born? Ms. Kaspbrak, I understand that you’re afraid to lose your son the way you lost your husband, but being a manipulative bitch who forced him to think he had illnesses he didn’t have for years and insulting his girlfriend in front of him is not the way to keep him around. Eddie is 18 years old, he’s an adult. He can do whatever he wants, which includes dating whoever he wants and leaving this hell hole that you have the audacity to call a home. The day that you finally accept that just might be the day that Eddie finally considers you to be an actual mother.”

And with that, I decided not to overstay my welcome and left.

I was only a few feet away from Eddie’s house when I heard him calling after me. I slowed my pace just enough that he could catch up with me, but didn’t completely stop. I wanted to put as much distance between myself and the Kaspbrak house as I could.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed as he fell in step next to me.

“For what?” Eddie asked. “I should be the one apologizing to you.”

“You warned me on how she would be, and I still let her get to me,” I said. “I probably made having to live there a whole lot harder.”

“It was hard to begin with, (Y/N). Nothing could make it harder than what it was,” he told me. “What you said, it was all true. Mom needed to hear that. Doesn’t mean she liked hearing it, or that she’ll actually accept it, but she needed to hear it none the less.”

“I guess I could’ve said it nicer,” I said. “Or at least not included details of our sex life.”

Eddie awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah, could’ve done without mom knowing I’m a sex god.”

I gave him a look and playfully nudged him. “I never said you were a sex god.”

“Eddie has done things that I don’t even think the most experienced of people could do I believe were your exact words.”

“I only said that to make her more upset.”

“So you’re saying I’m bad at sex?”

I pushed him again. “Eddie!”

He laughed and put an arm around my waist. “I appreciate the compliment either way. And I hope you know how much I love you.”

I smiled up at him and leaned into his touch. “I love you, too.”

We walked in silence for a while and, before I knew it, we were at my house. We stopped and turned to face each other.

“Want to stay over tonight?” I asked. “I figure going home isn’t exactly the best option right now.”

“It’s not,” he agreed. “Will your mom be okay with it?”

“Of course she will, she loves you. She’ll probably even cover for you if your mom calls.”

“I take it back, I don’t love you. I love your mom.”

“And I take back my offer. Go sleep on the streets.”

I took off for my front door with Eddie hot on my trail. I tried to open it and lock him out before he caught up to me, but of course his long legs gave him an advantage. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me away from the door, both of our laughs ringing out through the otherwise quiet neighborhood.

[mcmansionhell]

Coronagrifting: A Design Phenomenon

We now interrupt our regularly scheduled content to bring you a critical essay on the design world. I promise you that this will also be funny. 

This morning, the design website Dezeen tweeted a link to one of its articles, depicting a plexiglass coronavirus shield that could be suspended above dining areas, with the caption “Reader comment: ‘Dezeen, please stop promoting this stupidity.’”

This, of course, filled many design people, including myself, with a kind of malicious glee. The tweet seemed to show that the website’s editorial (or at least social media) staff retained within themselves a scintilla of self-awareness regarding the spread a new kind of virus in its own right: cheap mockups of COVID-related design “solutions” filling the endlessly scrollable feeds of PR-beholden design websites such as Dezeen, ArchDaily, and designboom. I call this phenomenon: Coronagrifting. 

I’ll go into detail about what I mean by this, but first, I would like to presenet some (highly condensed) history. 

From Paper Architecture to PR-chitecture

Back in the headier days of architecture in the 1960s and 70s, a number of architectural avant gardes (such as Superstudio and Archizoom in Italy and Archigram in the UK) ceased producing, well, buildings, in favor of what critics came to regard as “paper architecture.” This “paper architecture” included everything from sprawling diagrams of megastructures, including cities that “walked” or “never stopped” - to playfully erotic collages involving Chicago’s Marina City. Occasionally, these theoretical and aesthetic explorations were accompanied by real-world productions of “anti-design” furniture that may or may not have involved foam fingers. 

Archigram’s Walking City (1964). Source.

Paper architecture, of course, still exists, but its original radical, critical, playful, (and, yes, even erotic) elements were shed when the last of the ultra-modernists were swallowed up by the emerging aesthetic hegemony of Postmodernism (which was much less invested in theoretical and aesthetic futurism) in the early 1980s. What remained were merely images, the production and consumption of which has only increased as the design world shifted away from print and towards the rapidly produced, easily digestible content of the internet and social media. 

Architect Bjarke Ingels’s “Oceanix” - a mockup of an ecomodernist, luxury city designed in response to rising sea levels from climate change. The city will never be built, and its critical interrogation amounts only to “city with solar panels that floats bc climate change is Serious”  - but it did get Ingels and his firm, BIG, a TED talk and circulation on all of the hottest blogs and websites. Meanwhile, Ingels has been in business talks with the right-wing climate change denialist president of Brazil, Jair Bolsonaro. (Image via designboom) 

Design websites are increasingly dominated by text and mockups from the desks of a firm’s public relations departments, facilitating a transition from the paper-architecture-imaginary to what I have begun calling “PR-chitecture.” In short, PR-chitecture is architecture and design content that has been dreamed up from scratch to look good on instagram feeds or, more simply, for clicks.  It is only within this substance-less, critically lapsed media landscape that Coronagrifting can prosper.

Coronagrifting: An Evolution

As of this writing, the two greatest offenders of Coronagrifting are Dezeen, which has devoted an entire section of its website to the virus (itself offering twelve pages of content since February alone) and designboom, whose coronavirus tag contains no fewer than 159 articles. 

Certainly, a small handful of these stories demonstrate useful solutions to COVID-related problems (such as this one from designboom about a student who created a mask prototype that would allow D/deaf and hard of hearing people to read lips) most of the prototypes and the articles about them are, for a lack of a better word, insipid. 

But where, you may ask, did it all start?

One of the easiest (and, therefore, one of the earliest) Coronagrifts involves “new innovative, health-centric designs tackling problems at the intersection of wearables and personal mobility,” which is PR-chitecture speak for “body shields and masks.” 

Wearables and Post-ables

The first example came from Chinese architect Sun Dayong, back at the end of February 2020, when the virus was still isolated in China. Dayong submitted to Dezeen a prototype of a full mask and body-shield that “would protect a wearer during a coronavirus outbreak by using UV light to sterilise itself.” The project was titled “Be a Bat Man.” No, I am not making this up. 

Screenshot of Dayong’s “Be a Batman” as seen on the Dezeen website. 

Soon after, every artist, architect, designer, and sharp-eyed PR rep at firms and companies only tangentially related to design realized that, with the small investment of a Photoshop mockup and some B-minus marketing text, they too could end up on the front page of these websites boasting a large social media following and an air of legitimacy in the field. 

By April, companies like Apple and Nike were promising the use of existing facilities for producing or supplying an arms race’s worth of slick-tech face coverings. Starchitecture’s perennial PR-churners like Foster + Partners and Bjarke Ingels were repping “3D-printed face shields”, while other, lesser firms promised wearable vaporware like “grapheme filters,” branded “skincare LED masks for encouraging self-development” and “solar powered bubble shields.” 

While the mask Coronagrift continues to this day, the Coronagrifting phenomenon had, by early March, moved to other domains of design. 

Consider the barrage of asinine PR fluff that is the “Public Service Announcement” and by Public Service Announcement, I mean “A Designer Has Done Something Cute to Capitalize on Information Meant to Save Lives.” 

Some of the earliest offenders include cutesy posters featuring flags in the shape of houses, ostensibly encouraging people to “stay home;” a designer building a pyramid out of pillows ostensibly encouraging people to “stay home”; and Banksy making “lockdown artwork” that involved covering his bathroom in images of rats ostensibly encouraging people to “stay home.” 

Lol. Screenshot from Dezeen. 

You may be asking, “What’s the harm in all this, really, if it projects a good message?” And the answer is that people are plenty well encouraged to stay home due to the rampant spread of a deadly virus at the urging of the world’s health authorities, and that these tone-deaf art world creeps are using such a crisis for shameless self promotion and the generation of clicks and income, while providing little to no material benefit to those at risk and on the frontlines.

Of course, like the mask coronagrift, the Public Service Announcement coronagrift continues to this very day. 

The final iteration of Post-able and Wearable Coronagrifting genres are what I call “Passive Aggressive Social Distancing Initiatives” or PASDIs. Many of the first PASDIs were themselves PSAs and art grifts, my favorite of which being the designboom post titled “social distancing applied to iconic album covers like the beatle’s abbey road.” As you can see, we’re dealing with extremely deep stuff here. 

However, an even earlier and, in many ways more prescient and lucrative grift involves “social distancing wearables.” This can easily be summarized by the first example of this phenomenon, published March 19th, 2020 on designboom: 

Never wasting a single moment to capitalize on collective despair, all manner of brands have seized on the social distancing wearable trend, which, again, can best be seen in the last example of the phenomenon, published May 22nd, 2020 on designboom:

We truly, truly live in Hell. 

Which brings us, of course, to living. 

“Architectural Interventions” for a “Post-COVID World”

As soon as it became clear around late March and early April that the coronavirus (and its implications) would be sticking around longer than a few months, the architectural solutions to the problem came pouring in. These, like the virus itself, started at the scale of the individual and have since grown to the scale of the city. (Whether or not they will soon encompass the entire world remains to be seen.) 

The architectural Coronagrift began with accessories (like the designboom article about 3D-printed door-openers that enable one to open a door with one’s elbow, and the Dezeen article about a different 3D-printed door-opener that enables one to open a door with one’s elbow) which, in turn, evolved into “work from home” furniture (”Stykka designs cardboard #StayTheF***Home Desk for people working from home during self-isolation”) which, in turn, evolved into pop-up vaporware architecture for first responders (”opposite office proposes to turn berlin's brandenburg airport into COVID-19 'superhospital'”), which, in turn evolved into proposals for entire buildings (”studio prototype designs prefabricated 'vital house' to combat COVID-19″); which, finally, in turn evolved into “urban solutions” aimed at changing the city itself (a great article summarizing and criticizing said urban solutions was recently written by Curbed’s Alissa Walker).

There is something truly chilling about an architecture firm, in order to profit from attention seized by a global pandemic, logging on to their computers, opening photoshop, and drafting up some lazy, ineffectual, unsanitary mockup featuring figures in hazmat suits carrying a dying patient (macabrely set in an unfinished airport construction site) as a real, tangible solution to the problem of overcrowded hospitals; submitting it to their PR desk for copy, and sending it out to blogs and websites for clicks, knowing full well that the sole purpose of doing so consists of the hope that maybe someone with lots of money looking to commission health-related interiors will remember that one time there was a glossy airport hospital rendering on designboom and hire them. 

Enough, already. 

Frankly, after an endless barrage of cyberpunk mask designs, social distancing burger king crowns, foot-triggered crosswalk beg buttons that completely ignore accessibility concerns such as those of wheelchair users, cutesy “stay home uwu” projects from well-to-do art celebrities (who are certainly not suffering too greatly from the economic ramifications of this pandemic), I, like the reader featured in the Dezeen Tweet at the beginning of this post, have simply had enough of this bullshit. 

What’s most astounding to me about all of this (but especially about #brand crap like the burger king crowns) is that it is taken completely seriously by design establishments that, despite being under the purview of PR firms, should frankly know better. I’m sure that Bjarke Ingels and Burger King aren’t nearly as affected by the pandemic as those who have lost money, jobs, stability, homes, and even their lives at the hands of COVID-19 and the criminally inept national and international response to it. On the other hand, I’m sure that architects and designers are hard up for cash at a time when nobody is building and buying anything, and, as a result, many see resulting to PR-chitecture as one of the only solutions to financial problems. 

However, I’m also extremely sure that there are interventions that can be made at the social, political, and organizational level, such as campaigning for paid sick leave, organizing against layoffs and for decent severance or an expansion of public assistance, or generally fighting the rapidly accelerating encroachment of work into all aspects of everyday life – that would bring much more good and, dare I say, progress into the world than a cardboard desk captioned with the hashtag #StaytheF***Home. 

Hence, I’ve spent most of my Saturday penning this article on my blog, McMansion Hell. I’ve chosen to run this here because I myself have lost work as a freelance writer, and the gutting of publications down to a handful of editors means that, were I to publish this story on another platform, it would have resulted in at least a few more weeks worth of inflatable, wearable, plexiglass-laden Coronagrifting, something my sanity simply can no longer withstand. 

So please, Dezeen, designboom, others – I love that you keep daily tabs on what architects and designers are up to, a resource myself and other critics and design writers find invaluable – however, I am begging, begging you to start having some discretion with regards to the proposals submitted to you as “news” or “solutions” by brands and firms, and the cynical, ulterior motives behind them. If you’re looking for a guide on how to screen such content, please scroll up to the beginning of this page. 

----

If you enjoyed this article, please consider subscribing to my Patreon, as I didn’t get paid to write it.  

[barzzal]

between halls and thin walls → part two

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: swearing, sex toys, masturbation, sexual/suggestive themes, and yenno, mathew :(

↳ genre: angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+ minors dni*

↳ length: series; part one, part two (5.9k), part three, part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: listened to a lot of beyoncé for this one !!

note: part two’s here!! and i know it’s late for an update but i just wanna thank everyone for commenting on the first part 🥺 really glad that you guys liked it. reading your tags are everything to me it means a lot! happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

You come out of your bedroom dressed and ready for work. Your handbag was slung over the depth of your forearm as you headed for the kitchen and the other, scrolling past emails on your phone, admittedly bracing yourself for the mess you know will eventually greet you.

To your surprise, what you see instead were Mat Barzal’s guns rippling through the jet black sweater he had worn last night. A memory that sent your mind to less than eight hours ago, before eventually landing on what happened shortly when the two of you had woken up.

“Thank god you haven’t burnt the house down.” you kid, placing your handbag atop the island.

Mat spares you a quick glance, rolling his eyes whilst he lets you watch him whisk some eggs for breakfast.

“Like it?” he cocks, pertaining to how your eyes were pinned hard on his biceps that he was, for the most part, effortlessly sporting. It’s true, though. He didn’t need to flex because it was just there.

“Coffee or Juice?” he asks, as the kind friend and roommate that he is. 

Anthony, as surprising as it was, takes incredibly long showers. If people hadn’t known him well, they’d easily think he’s abusing himself there. But you’ve got to admit that not having him around felt nice for you didn’t have to feel so seen with Mathew.

‘Course, there’s nothing more, like a fix-in on the side, to your set up. You just appreciate the feeling of not having to lie to Beau about all the ugly concealed underneath all the innocent gazes you and Mathew exchange.

“Coffee.” you answer shortly, realizing that you forgot the material you need for today’s meeting.

“Where are you going?” Mat asks when he catches you receding out into the hallway. You didn’t bother looking back, “Forgot something!”

He gets back to whisking the eggs when a chime comes off his phone. He takes it from the counter, placed just before the plates he left to dry last night, absent-mindedly putting the bowl he was holding onto the island, toppling over the green juice he has prepared for himself. 

“Shit.” he curses as soon as he sees it for it was already spilling all over the place, making the mess you’ve been secretly anticipating the moment Mathew said he’d make breakfast.

Panicking at how you’d see he’s successfully screwed such a no-brainer task, Mat grabs the first thing he sees on the marbled surface and uses it to clean the mess he’d made.

“Huh.” he muses to himself, realizing that the silk fabric didn’t do much in helping him clean up. He tosses it over the sink carelessly and grabs a few napkin rolls from one of the cupboards. 

So much for making an effort to feed Anthony Beauvillier. 

“Now, that was fast.” you say with a smirk once you’ve entered the kitchen, startling Mathew as he continued cleaning up after his mess. 

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” he sarcastically laughs, discarding the paper towels onto the sink along with the used ones. 

Thankfully, your stuff was at the other side of the island so it was very much safe from all the chaos happening at the other end of the marbled surface. However, your laugh dies down the second you realize that your handkerchief was no longer where you’ve last put it.

“Hey,” you call on Mathew, “What’s up?”

“Have you seen my handkerchief? I know I left it somewhere.” you anxiously ask, eyeing every corner of the room hoping to see Nana’s handkerchief, the one she gave to you on your 18th birthday.

“What does it look like?” Mat asks, now holding a pan in his hand as he prepares breakfast.

You proceeded to describe your grandma’s handkerchief in the most specific and perhaps excruciating detail Mathew has ever heard someone talk about something as mind-numbing as a handkerchief.

Despite that, Mat lights up the moment it hits him, not realizing the bigger mess he’s about to walk into. He rejoices at how he knew exactly what you were looking for, “Oh! You mean this?” 

With clueless eyes, you watch Mat go over the sink after he wipes his hands dry, fishing out an all too familiar fabric from the sink. Once your eyes land onto the cream colored silk handkerchief, with details carefully sewn by hand, drenching in what seems to be Mat’s morning drink, your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. 

“What did you do??” The sudden rise in your voice startles an unsuspecting Mathew. You eagerly went over to his side and hastily snatched the smooth fabric off his hands, “It’s ruined!”

“What? I didn’t know it was yours!” Mat’s eyes are wild with confusion. Puzzled at how you were so fixated on the useless fabric. It didn’t help him anyway. There’s nothing much left to do but to throw it. It’s garbage. 

“You ruined it!” you lash out, letting Mat get eaten up by the sudden anger bubbling inside your guts but he was rather quick in defending himself, “I didn’t know it was yours since I grabbed the first thing I could find. Why are you getting upset over a shit-ass handkerchief?” 

Your mouth falls and you shake your head, finding his defensiveness quite appalling. “You’re an ass.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was yours.” he explains, “Come on, it’s just a stupid handkerchief I’ll just buy you a new one.” he tries to laugh the tension off, sporting his signature grin.

Mat take shots of the stunned expression on your face, “Stupid?” you repeat what he said, your eyes already starting to sting with tears. Clearly, you were far too overwhelmed to even acknowledge Mathew’s half-assed apology.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” your words bite and that’s when things took a turn for the worse. 

“I said I was fucking sorry! What the hell do you want from me? Shit a fucking hanky?” he rans a hand through his hair, “Do you realize how childish you’re being right now?”

Outraged, and perhaps disappointed by how he was too high up his horse, your voice takes up a higher tone, entering what seems to be an early screaming match between you and Mathew.

“Could you just–” you breathe, “for one second– stop being so goddamn stupid and get over yourself!?” were words that welcomed Anthony the moment he stepped into the kitchen, towel wrapped around his waist, a grin on his face visible as he poured himself a glass of water, inviting himself in the screaming match you and Mathew have exclusively put forth for him.

“Stupid is not when you’ve already apologized a hundred times! Stupid is being such a crybaby and a bitch about it!” Mathew retorts, gaining his better end of the argument.

“What a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Anthony chimes in, a hand resting on his chin, adoring his two best friends upon getting used to the best worst duo he’s ever known in his life. 

“Shut up, Beau.” you say, throwing him a glare.

“Well, beautiful is definitely not in Y/N’s dictionary.” Mathew chides with a smirk, enough to earn himself a scoff from you. 

“You know what? I don’t have the time for this bullshit.” you cuss, finally retreating, your already heavy heart taking a better hold on your thoughts, blocking your ability to even come up with a clever remark to come back at Mathew.

You throw the delicate, yet already ruined piece of fabric towards his way as hard as you could before marching out of the kitchen and head off for work.

“Fucking unbelievable.” Mathew curses under his breath once he catches the silk linen, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the morning task at hand. 

You were fucking unbelievable.

Once the boys were left alone, Tito raises a brow, briefly looking back after your footsteps, “What happened here, anyway?” he asks, having realized what must’ve caused such a heated argument so early in the morning. 

“I used this handkerchief to wipe the whole thing off and she just went ape shit! I mean–” Anthony cuts Mathew the moment he recognizes the thin cloth he was holding.

“Woah, woah. Wait a minute, you used this?” he muses, stressing on the possibility of what might have been Mathew’s biggest mistake of the day, his eyes darting between him and the fabric.

With furrowed brows, admittedly weirded by how Anthony reacted almost the same way you did a while ago. “It’s just a handkerchief, man. I can go buy her a bunch if that’s what she wants.” he says defensively.

Anthony shakes his head wildly, his irises now dilated as he examined the stain already sitting on the material. “No no. Oh god no.” He says, snatching Mathew’s phone from the counter to google quick remedies that might remove the said stain from the already ruined cloth. 

“What do you mean no? You guys spend way too much time together, you’re beginning to be as weird as her.” He scoffs, sipping on a glass of water. 

“No, you dumbass. This was her grandma’s!” Anthony says, eyes fixated on the delicate handkerchief. Remembering how you’d told him how long it has been in your family that having Nana give it to you after all the years you’ve spent admiring it from afar meant so much to you than anything anyone could have possibly given you.

“So?” Mat casually replies, closing his arms to his chest before adding, “Is she dead or something? Didn’t you guys visit her for the Holidays?” 

“What?? Why would you even say that?– You’re such a jerk.” Tito shakes his head, appalled by how Mathew easily shrugged the matter off when he knew full well how sentimental he himself could be.

“Well, how am I supposed to know?? If that thing’s so important I wouldn’t leave it on top of some random shit lying around!” He counters, defending himself for reaching for the nearest cloth he could find when he did whatever he does best when he’s in the kitchen.

Tito clicks his tongue and looks at Mathew exasperatedly, “Tell me, where did you find this exactly?”, to which Mathew only answered with a quiet voice, “It may or may not have been placed on top of her purse…” he avoids Tito’s gaze, finally catching on how he was the one in the wrong. 

“See? Jerk. Now, go figure out how you’ll take the stain off.” Anthony demands, his voice embraced by a definitive tone. One that made Mathew know he wouldn’t be able to persuade him into letting this go. 

Tito takes one good look at Mat’s catastrophic attempt to feed the house, striding his way out of the kitchen, “And make sure you apologize!” he adds, footsteps receding into the hallway, leaving Mathew scratching the back of his head out of guilt and frustration.

You have spent the following days either avoiding Mathew or ignoring his existence completely. Anthony talked to you the night that incident happened and assured you that he would do his best to have it fixed. You didn’t want to bother him nor take time off his already busy schedule, but you were just so bummed to even say a word.

That night, you spent the entire evening in your room, facetiming your mother, saying how much you’re missing home. You can’t bring yourself to tell her about the handkerchief. For some people, and that people being Mathew, it might’ve been just some silly thing but Tito knew how much that small piece of cloth meant to you. 

Mathew, on the one hand, was for sure guilty to his bones. He didn’t see you that night nor the nights that followed. He didn’t think much of it but when he found himself searching for that same handkerchief in the hopes of replacing it only to find out that it was nowhere to be found in the market, was when he did realize that ruining the one thing that held you closer to home was the last push your non-existent relationship with him had to have for you to finally lose any ounce of amour nor civility you once had for him. 

Anthony wasn’t a stranger for said changes either. He began waking up to a still apartment enveloped by a wall you profusely built between you and Mathew. You even unknowingly shut Tito out in the process as well. It was like you were grieving. Like, it was a whole different kind of heartbreak he knew he can’t get you out of that easily. 

You tried making it up for your best friend of course. Knowing that you haven’t been yourself since that day. You thought about the possibility of having taken the whole thing too seriously that you might’ve overreacted a bit. Nonetheless, no matter how much you try to push it in the back of your head, Mathew’s mere presence began irking you in ways it never did back when you used to enjoy the bickering you exchange with him, especially in bed.

“Thanks for dinner, belle.” Anthony politely says, earning a smile from you so effortlessly upon hearing the pet name he uses for you. Something Mat only shrugged off, trying to piece out the same gratitude, “Thanks, y/n.” he genuinely adds. But as expected, he had nothing.

You pick up all the empty plates, including Mathew’s, who was sitting in front of you while Anthony sat at the end of the table. Tito hurriedly wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes the plate from you, “Let me help you with that.” he says with the same kind eyes that has never failed to win you over. 

“Yeah. Okay, sure.” you shortly answer, leading the way towards the kitchen, leaving one Mathew Barzal feeling small and alone at the dining table. 

𖥸

If there was one thing you’d gladly acknowledge after all the years of watching people kiss Mathew’s ass was that he was is really good. He’s fast and he can do unimaginable damage on the ice. There’s no denying that he deserves to be the face of the New York Islanders. But we know you don’t care about any of that. The only thing you care about was how unbelievably good he is at everything he does that not even you or your pink rubber toy could suffice. 

He was just that damn good. 

As your eyes shut whilst you mount your pleasures on your own, biting your lips to choke in your own moans, Mathew handling you was what circled your mind since you started defiling yourself in the bathroom. You let your arousal be washed away by the warm water trickling down your skin, envisioning Mat’s rough hands grazing your body, touching your core like his hands were meant to do nothing else but that. 

It was wrong and pathetic, but you couldn’t think about anything else. You and Mathew have been avoiding each other for days. The dynamic went so much worse than when you weren’t sleeping together and you know that Tito was bound to notice it soon. Thankfully, the boys were on another roadie for a week so you had quite some time to think things through about your current sitch with Mathew. You didn’t like any of it because it felt like you gave a fuck (which obviously, you didn’t). You just feel obligated to sort things out with the biggest ass that ever lived because you didn’t want to involve Tito into the mess you’ve wrongfully made yourself. 

You hop off the shower feeling unsatisfied. You haven’t gotten laid since the last time you were with Mat. Which is sad, not just for you but also for her. You’d think considering the boys aren’t around you’d bring someone home, maybe even one or two. But just thinking about going on bars alone so you could find a potential bone-mate is already far too tedious and you weren’t in the right state to do so. You had so much going on at work, anyway. And you can always use a wand to scratch an itch. Neither would satisfy you more than how someone-who-will-not-be-named could, but you might as well be pathetic without having to hook up with some random dude whose name you’ll eventually forget in the morning. 

You opted to wear an old pull-over you borrowed (took) from Tito years and years ago and partnered it with some leggings so you’d be comfortable enough for the rest of the night. You have nothing else to do and you are already fed up with your workload that watching a crappy movie off of Netflix doesn’t sound like a bad idea. 

With a giant bowl of popcorn and two bottles of beer in your hands, you march your way into the living room, ready to spend the night binge watching romantic comedies, crying and laughing in between. Or maybe just fall asleep on the couch while your comfort TV series is on. 

The boys won three games out of the four that they had during the trip and you only saw the ones they won so you were thankful that you didn’t have to sit at home alone watching their faces fall after that OT lost against the Flyers. Anthony phoned you that night and you can just feel the relief in his voice that you didn’t have the time to see it. They weren’t playing like they should. Thankfully, they were able to bounce back. 

Your eyes were beginning to grow tired halfway into the movie when you hear the front door open, followed by luggages dragged into the house tirelessly. 

“Y/N?” Anthony calls out.

You hit the movie on pause and hurriedly make your way towards the hallway. “You’re home already?”

They were already taking their coats off when you met them halfway, Tito was putting his away while Mat had just taken off his toque and was running his hands through his hair, unconsciously meeting your eyes upon hearing your voice. 

You quickly break it off when you give Tito a quick embrace and plant a small kiss on his cheeks, “I texted you.” he says, eyebrows quirked, surprised that you didn’t know. 

In an effort to avert any more of his questions you immediately point towards the movie you had on, “Haven’t checked my messages, sorry.” 

“So, you guys ate dinner?” you ask, passing Mat a quick look. One that came as a surprise because he wasn’t even hoping to hear a word from you given the way you two left things a little too on the edge, screwing with the whole thing even more. 

Mat avoids your irises and faintly nods. 

“Big win tonight huh? Told you, you can do it.” you say with a beaming smile, nudging Tito with your hips as you get back to watching your film. “You gotta do what you gotta do, babe.” he winks, lugging his stuff around towards his bedroom. 

“Barz, don’t stay up, Trotz needs us first thing in the morning.” he looks back, reminding Mat who was already standing in front of his door, “Yeah. Sure.” he replies shortly with a tired voice. 

You and Anthony bid your own goodnights whilst Mat mutters a quiet “Night.” when you nodded his way, clearly not enjoying any of the first awkward encounters he’s yet to have with you. Seven days is quite a reasonable time for your anger to dissipate, a short yet seemingly long period of time that’s just enough to kill off whatever guilt Mat had initially felt before you parted ways.

𖥸

“Alright, I’m off.” Tito casually declares, putting on his watch. “There’s food in the fridge, and tell Mat to go easy on my beers.” he gives you a knowing look as he bends down to give you a kiss on the cheek. 

Tito had been seeing some mystery girl for quite some time now. He hasn’t told you anything spicy in particular but by the looks of it, you could already tell that she has him towed. 

“Good luck, loverboy.” you say, swatting his hand away and pushing him out to the door. The two of you cringe at what you said, sharing one last laugh before you watch him disappear out into the hallway.

The apartment was cramped the whole day because Anthony and Mat had the day off. Tito had plans for the night, obviously. As per you, you had plans lounging in the living room, switching through channels in the hopes of stumbling on a show that isn’t half as bad than the rest. 

Thankfully, a Sandra Bullock film was on HBO.

The Proposal, to be exact.

You decide to dive in the film with a cold bottle of beer on your hand. There was no way you’d be washing down the effects of a naked Ryan Reynolds with a glass of water. You haven’t gone mad. 

The film was already at the part where Sandra was proposing to Ryan when you hear Mathew’s door open. You haven’t talked since the night they came back home other than the small nods you exchange upon passing by each other. All of which are mind-numbing and impossible to swallow. The awkwardness has not dissipated completely unlike what you presumed. You were just grateful Tito was always around that you didn’t need to be alone together. 

Alarmed by another impending awkward encounter, you clear your throat and turn up the volume a little to remain focused on the film, investing your sole attention to it even if you have seen the movie countless times. 

Mathew, in his sweats and a gray shirt on, carefully makes his way out the hallway and into the common area after snatching a glass of water from the kitchen. You see him move further into the room but you make sure that he knows you weren’t paying attention. You take that he must’ve been thirsty and needed a drink but you don’t see him move further in the corner of your eye like he was making his way back in his room. It almost seemed like he was actually waiting for you to look his way.

Hesitantly, you follow your gut feel and see him standing a few feet away from you. “Yes?” you ask when you catch him staring. 

Mat blinks a few times, “Hi.” he takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness circling the two of you.

When the only thing he gets from you is a tight lipped smile, he shakes his head and proceeds to walk where you were seated. 

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice deep and clear enough to send your mind elsewhere. 

Regardless, you contain yourself and return a polite smile, “No. Not at all.”

“So, what are we watching?” he sits once you gestured onto the other end of the couch. 

“The Proposal.” you answer before throwing a question yourself, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting now?” you shake your head, absentmindedly chuckling. Not intending to make him feel that you’ve forgotten about what he’d done weeks ago. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” he props his back and lets himself sink in the cloud couch, his legs spread wide eating up most of the space left for the two of you to share. “Oh. I only like him when he’s Deadpool” he points out, cringing at how you were watching another one of your romantic comedy films.

You roll your eyes, admiring how he’s trying to break the tension between the two of you despite his unsolicited sentiments, “I like it when we were on not-speaking terms.” 

Mat mocks you for a while but decides to watch the movie so you let him be and get back to the film, letting a giggle slip every now and then. Something you thought Mat wouldn’t notice.

Watching the remainder of the film went with ease. ‘Course, Mat would steal a few glances here and there (ones he thought had gone unnoticed), but overall the quietude between the two of you was bearable. Almost like it was just two buddies hanging out. 

Although, not long after, your eyes were torn away from the huge flat screen when Mat spoke, “By the way,” he looks at you and calls your attention. 

Puzzled, you watch him take something from his pocket, “Here.” 

Once you see what he has in his hands your heart froze. Mat carefully hands you the cloth with an apologetic smile; his eyes soft with a hint of hope as he watches your reaction. 

“What– How?” you ask in bewilderment, failing to comprehend how he was able to fix the handkerchief. It looked the same as before. All of its details were in place, it was good as new. You were holding Nana’s handkerchief. 

Mathew didn’t bother to dance around and just offered you a quiet chuckle, evidently enjoying the wide smile painted on your lips. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” he apologizes, shielding you from all the strings he had to pull just to get that cloth fixed up.

You hold the smooth and delicate piece in your hands as you look at Mat, letting your feelings get a better hold of you, “Thank you.” you say, unknowingly reaching out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you give him a quick peck on the cheek. 

Mathew’s hand instinctively finds your back to support you, startling himself in the process. Nonetheless, the thought was easily shrugged off by how close your faces were, your smiles fading once you meet each other’s gaze. You feel the same rush you felt the night you and Mat got involved for the first time. Your hand was placed rather endearingly on his cheek, your faces, just like all the other times, unreasonably close to each other. Mat then clears his throat and only looks you in the eye. 

Afraid that the innocent hug would lead to something more, perhaps another mistake to be jotted down on the board, you breathe a laugh and break away, “Uh, thanks again. It really means a lot.” 

Mat must’ve sensed that you were being cautious so he puts his guards up and returns a chuckle, “So… we good?” he asks, reaching out a hand your way. 

Your fingers slide into his, gliding its way perfectly, your hands fitted well with his despite the obvious difference in proportion. His grip tightens in the most comfortable way possible. 

A smile breaks off his lips once he hears you answer, “We’re good.”

“I should probably get some sleep.” Mat tells you the moment you pull your hand away.

“Are you gonna be okay here?” he adds.

You looked at him, not wanting him to be obligated to keep you company, “Oh, yeah. I’m a big girl.” you say, making Mathew grin, shaking his head.

“Alright. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

Not picking up on whatever sloppy insinuation Mat has thrown out carelessly into thin air, he hears a simple “Mkay.” 

Thus far, letting him know that his subtle invitation was far from being RSVP’d.

𖥸

“You’ll be in your room?” Mat scoffs, staring at the ceiling while he lays on his bed, “The fuck was that, Mat?” he scolds himself for always coming up with the worst things to say. 

Mathew would be lying if he’d say he hasn’t thought about you (or doing you) for the past week of not being around home. But he definitely wouldn’t deny that the roadie kind of made things easier for him because then he didn’t have to stomach seeing you walk around the flat looking like the hot piece of ass that you were in his eyes. 

Mat knows he needs to pull his shit together. He wasn’t some 13 year-old boy raging with hormones. He needs to control himself around you and he could only do that once he learns how to push this whole thing between the two of you behind him. 

What happened with you and Mathew shouldn’t have happened at all. It was just a moment of weakness, and he hated that he’d let his dick (and apparently, him being one) ruin the relationship he once had with you. 

Before that night, seeing you do yoga and work out on the terrace was just seeing you drenched in sweat, and in your work out clothes looking icky and constipated. Something he’ll later on tease you about and he’ll end up catching the water bottle you throw in his face. But now, after all that fucking, seeing you sweaty and all worked out in the same yoga pants is just like walking into a porn commercial. Like the ones they show before the actual porn. In fact, he doesn’t even have to watch any of it. Tents and Boners were pretty much sponsored by you from then on. It’s sick, and he knows it. 

However, the tension he feels with you is palpable that he’s even certain that you feel it too. But how can he be wrong? He sees how your eyes blink a few times when he’s fresh out the shower, he sees you follow his trance when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, and you never fail to slide him shadowed hints with every touch you “accidentally” pass at him. The kind that’s short enough to remain innocent but not so much as to keep him at bay. Mat hated everything about it. He hated that he wanted you– and he hated that he thinks he might be right about you wanting him too.

All that self-loathing aside, did he regret it? 

That was one of the things he feels bad about. Because as much as he wants to lie and push it aside, he didn’t regret any of it. He didn’t like you that way and just thought about you sexually but he just wishes that you could push past this and just be friends. He was still sexually attracted to you, yes. But he knows he’d eventually get over it and be back on his game. That is if he can ever find someone who’d be as good as how you were the last three times you’ve let him be with you because it would really help him a lot if he could stop picturing your mouth getting stretched by his cock every time he hops into the shower.

Mat was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. The shy banging sound made his heart beat rapidly in an instant, knowing full well that the two of you were alone in the house and that Tito was, in no way, going to be home for another hour or two.

A faint knock follows the first one before he gets to the door. 

“Hi.” you greet him, a moment unfolding like it was déjà-vu.

“Hi.” 

“Did I wake you?” you sheepishly ask, your hands balled into fists before eventually settling down to hug your own build, unsure of where to put your hands exactly.

Mat quickly shakes his head, “No. I couldn’t sleep myself.”

You offer him a smile, acknowledging how he’s been nothing but good to you ever since they got home. Of course you wanted to get your hands on him being that you were completely dry and horny ever since you’ve ignored him completely, but you haven’t gone mad and you weren’t a complete neanderthal. You can keep your hands to yourself and act like a decent human being. 

“I’m sorry for making things weird between us.” you say, your eyes heavy with guilt. “But I’m only apologizing for being so unreasonable for the last couple of weeks.” you reiterated.

To which he only answers with, “You shouldn’t be. You have every right to be unreasonable– and I know that I’ve been a giant prick that day. It’s what I deserve.” he bites his lower lip, scratching his brow as he continues, “That’s why if there’s someone who owes someone an apology, it should be me. What I did was pretty crappy, so… I’m sorry.”

Like all the other times, Mathew towers over you wearing the same confidence he does when you’re around. Your bodies were reasonably apart from each other but close enough to mean something else if someone had walked by. Mathew was still in his room while you were out in the hallway, separated by the thin line made by the door frame. 

You feel Mat’s steady breathing and everything went still. He looks down at you, pretty eyes drowning yours. His messed up bed hair ridiculously makes up for how dressed down he was. No, actually, he looks fine even when he is. And all of that sight instantly makes your throat dry as you feel something curl in your belly, enough to make your hands sweaty as the thought of tasting his lips again cruised your mind entirely.

Mathew was no stranger to the said feeling either. He watched you punish him more at how plump and inviting your lips were. Or how your hand brushed on your clothes as you remain uncomposed under his gaze. 

Mat was becoming accustomed to how the two of you meet. Same time, same place, only this time, a different hallway. He steps further and crosses the line that divides the two of you, making you take a deep breath as his scent floors every nerve in your body. Waking what has been awake ever since that moment you shared back in the living room even more. 

“Yeah, okay.” you gather yourself, “I– I should probably head back.” 

Just by how his shoulders dropped, you knew you had said the wrong thing. And you hated that you did. Mat clears his voice and swallows, breaking off his gaze, “You probably should.” 

“Good night, Mat.” you smile, trying to regain yourself. 

“Good night.” he replies as he watches you turn your back before finally closing the door behind him. 

Frustrated for he was already starting to feel things more than just being “sorry”, Mat leans against the door and runs a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath and tries to get you out of his head. 

He was about to walk away from the door and sleep off his frustration when he hears your faint footsteps on the other side of the door. He rests his head back on the wooden surface and sighs, “You’re still out there, aren’t you?”

There was a total silence for a moment, devoid of the knowledge of how you had your fist, ready to knock yet again, suspended in mid-air. 

Mathew hears you deny sheepishly, “No.” 

You hear him let out a small laugh, knowing that he was trying to contain himself. 

The door sprung open again, and for a second you thought how what you’re about to walk into will start another mess for you and Mathew. But how could you possibly think about it that way when you have nothing else but this man standing at the other end? 

A friend that took no seconds to waste as he finally lets his thirst and perhaps foolishness, get the better hold of him once he cages your heated face in his hands, crashing into your lips as fast as he’d taken you to his end of that thin gray line that has once irkingly parted him from you. A gray line you’re both willing to cross if that meant sharing another night in between halls and thin walls.

[thatmultifandomhoe]

It’s You

Pairing: Changkyun and Reader

Group: Monsta X

Word Count: 7,433

Genre/Rating: Valentine’s Day AU - Quarantine AU - Friends to Lovers AU - Fluff - Angst - PG-13

Overview: The last thing you planned to do was celebrate Valentine’s Day. Being single on a holiday that glorified love, especially during a pandemic, was the perfect sign to stay at home to guarantee avoiding having a broken heart. Especially when Changkyun, the one who held it, seemed to have plans of his own.

Warning: Mention of past unrequited love and having a broken heart - swearing -

A/N: Happy - early - Valentine’s Day sweet peas! And yes, Changkyun from Monsta X was the winner of the “Who Do You Want to Spend Valentine’s day With,” and I had so much fun working on this piece. I’m personally not a fan of the holiday - for reasons you’ll read below - but I hope that those of y’all who do celebrate have a happy Valentine’s day, and I hope that y’all enjoy this piece and get all the chocolate that you want this year!

Tagging: @srvdyv​​  @skyys-universe​​ @kpophoneybunny​​ @wheein-whanders​​ @ezralia-writes​

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The First Installment of the Hoe Catalog.

©thatmultifandomhoe 2021. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

“Are you okay?”

Glancing over at the cell phone that was propped up on the dresser, you raised an eyebrow at the black screen. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You do know what day it is, right?”

Fingers pausing, you pressed your lips together, staring down at the button of the black jeans you had been in the middle of putting on. You had known what day it was when you went to turn off the alarm that had set for that morning. It had been painfully obvious, and as the pre-recorded song of birds chirping increased in volume, you had stared at the date for longer than you normally do.

February fourteenth.

Valentine’s Day.

“I’ve only been awake for an hour,” you said, stepping towards the closet for a shirt. It had been a miracle that Changkyun had called instead of his preferred method of randomly video calling. While it was true, you had been up for an hour, you had only started moving about to get on with the day about five minutes ago. And currently you were only wearing pants and a black lacy bra. Although, knowing him, he wouldn’t have complained.

There was rustling on his end and the clinking of a spoon hitting a glass. “I know, but I just wanted to make sure. You seemed pretty upset the other day.”

“It’s not that I’m upset…” You slipped your head through the hole of a black smocked square blouse with red flowers printed on it, adjusting the top so it sat properly. “I just...don’t like the holiday.”

Which was putting it mildly. It was more than a dislike, but as you went to look in the mirror to make sure there weren’t any tags sticking out, you silently thanked him for calling. You never hated Valentine’s Day. At its core, it was rather a sweet concept, one that year after year, a part of you hoped that maybe you’d be able to have someone to enjoy the holiday with. But after years of being single on the most romantic day, and having it ruined by dates turned sour, more often than not a dark cloud hovered overhead while you tried to simply get through the day.

You tried to find some spin on it to turn it around. Starting tomorrow and for the next week, chocolate was going to be anywhere from fifty to seventy-percent off. Sales were always fantastic no matter what the reason was. There were only so many chocolate hearts that you were capable of eating though.

“Why are you calling so early?” You said, turning the conversation back to him. It made sense why you were up – even on a Sunday there was always work to be done – for him to be awake before noon, that caused a bit of worry.

“Ah,” there was a thump that echoed on the call like he had dropped his phone, his voice sounding distant. “I have some things to get done today.”

“Yeah, but it’s nine in the morning. I thought you weren’t even coherent before noon.”

Changkyun forced out a laugh and you lightly smiled, gathering your hair into a bun before carrying him into the kitchen. Even though it was a simple phone call and was a bit distorted, it did nothing to dull the fluttering going on by the butterflies in your stomach. His lazy grin came to mind, and only ten minutes into the hour and you were smiling like a fool while stirring your coffee.

That was another reason why you weren’t entirely fond of the holiday. The entire day was dedicated to love, to telling someone that you love them, and here you were, having fallen for your friend and yet you refused to tell him. It was hard to pinpoint when these feelings began, but it was possible that they had been growing since the day you two met.

There was no doubt that you were a workaholic, always feeling weird if you bummed around for more than a few hours, so it made sense that on the rare day off that you took, something had to crash it. You had been indulging in some binge watching of your precious Inuyasha when your phone lit up with an incoming video call from Messenger. Immediately you had been hesitant. None of your friends ever video messaged you since unlike them, your cell was an android.

You hadn’t planned to answer him. Not only did you not recognize the name, or his picture - despite how attractive he appeared - but you didn’t normally answer requests from strangers. With that in mind and mildly annoyed in having to pause the episode, you were ready to hit decline and be on with the day. Except, you were a dumb ass, and hit accept by accident.

Turns out he had meant to call someone else and had been equally shocked when you answered. In fact, he had been less than classy upon seeing you in instead of his friend, the words, ‘oh, fuck me,’ slipping out before he could stop himself.

In normal circumstances, you might have rolled your eyes, or told him to go fuck himself, but it had been six months into the pandemic and he was the first new person that you had met in a while.

“I don’t usually fuck strangers,” you had said instead, not missing the way his eyebrow rose and how his mouth curled upwards in a smile. “But if you wanna buy me a grinder and have it delivered to my place; I might eventually be persuaded.”

There had been a tense moment, but when he let out a breathless chuckle, somehow you knew that you were in the safe zone. Turns out, the two of you had a friend in common who he had meant to call, but he hadn’t been paying attention to what he was doing and accidentally clicked on your profile. The call only lasted for a few more minutes before Changkyun apologized and with an awkward wave, ended it. You stared at his profile picture and next thing you knew, you were scrolling through his pictures, oohing upon finding an old one of him with silver hair and an eyebrow piercing.

A couple hours later, there was a knock at your door and after slipping on a mask, you were greeted with a delivery man that looked no older than sixteen, announcing that he had a grinder for you. Before you could say that you hadn’t ordered anything, he promised that it had already been paid for, tip included. Not one to turn down free food, you accepted it, and saw the note that was taped to the paper bag.

I’m not a weirdo I promise. Jooheon passed along your address, and I’m not about to let someone go hungry. From, a friendly stranger who hit the wrong button.

There was no second guessing on your part. You pulled his profile back up and hit the video button, only having to wait a few seconds before his face filled the screen, locks of black hair falling across his forehead as he ruffled it up.

“Did you seriously send me a grinder?”

“You sounded hungry.”

There was a brief pause, and suddenly you were giggling, shoulders shaking as you sat down on a chair, his own deep chuckles joining in not long after. It was odd, but after that – and after confirming with Jooheon to make sure he wasn’t a creep, which you were assured he wasn’t – the two of you fell into the habit of video chatting. Some days there was nothing to say. With the pandemic raging on and everything closed, it was nice to have someone simply be there after all this time.

Fast forward five months later, the pandemic had only grown worse, and not only had Changkyun proven to be a good friend, but he managed to worm his way into your heart.

“What about you,” Changkyun suddenly asked. “You’re not actually working today, are you? Forget the holiday, it’s Sunday.”

Rolling your eyes, you went back to the bedroom with the black coffee in one hand, and him in the other. “Not all day. I have a few graphics that I want to finish up or it’ll bug me. Should only take a few hours to do.”

“Only a few hours,” he teased. “I’m willing to bet you’ll still be working tonight.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

“Not.”

His end grew silent, and he suddenly cleared his throat. “We’ll see about that.”

There was something about that sentence that stopped you from entering the password to your computer. Glancing away from the screen, you stared at Changkyun’s picture, wondering why his voice had softened when he had said that, as if he knew something that you didn’t.

“What is it that you have to do?” You found yourself asking him again, not looking at the keys as you logged into your laptop, the bleeding hearts screensaver appearing as the icons loaded one by one.

“Just some…stuff. I’ll probably be off my phone most of the day.”

“Oh.”

With the amount of phone calls and video chats the two of you had, it had become normal to hear from him a couple times throughout the day. The text chat was filled with various memes, emojis, and conversations that ranged from how much is too much fabric softener? - all the way to late night conversations involving stories about crazy exes, to insecurities, dreams you’ve always wanted to do, and whether or not the world would ever go back to the normal that you both had known prior to March 2020.

Wetting your lips, you leaned back against the desk chair and cradled the mug in both hands. “Well, have fun with whatever you’re doing,” you said, keeping your voice light so he wouldn’t notice the shift in your mood.

It was suddenly so obvious why he wasn’t saying what he had to do. With the holiday approaching, Changkyun had asked if you had any plans for how to spend the day, and with that came your explanation for why you weren’t overly fond of this particular day. The blind dates that ended terribly and being single had been part of the reason why, but there was one particular instance from the past that was determined to ruin Valentines every year for you.

In all the years, there was one person that you had confessed to on Valentines. Jungkook was someone you considered a friend, but you had only told him the truth to get him to shut up about his girlfriend. Up until that afternoon she had been the ex that, from your understanding, despised being in the same room as him anymore. According to him, she showed up at his place with the usual, ‘I miss you,’ and ‘let’s try again,’ and somehow that all managed to lead to wild and hot passionate sex that was, ‘insanely good.’

If only that had been it.

Whether Jungkook got caught up in reliving the moment and forgot who he was talking to, he gave you a play by play of their reunion. From the way she arrived at his door, to the way she felt around him, he told every detail all while you were on the other end of the phone, fingers twisted and tugging at your hair as you sat on the floor of your childhood bedroom. On all the days, the last thing you wanted to hear was your crush talking about having to move to the living room because his bedroom reeked from all their fucking.

The conversation didn’t last much longer, thank god, but you hadn’t been able to grieve because in the other room mom’s voice could be heard as she talked about her day at work. Instead, you forced back the tears and it took everything to not break down when she smiled and handed you an orange teddy bear holding a red heart that said I love you, along with a bag of Lindt chocolates. She was unaware, and while everyone slept, you buried your face into a couple pillows to muffle the sounds of your crying. You were only eighteen and yet you swore your heart collapsed in on itself before exploding into a million glass shards.

“That fucking dick,” Changkyun had said when you told him.

The screen had been bright as the two of you video chatted, and you rubbed your eyes, tired but not ready to go to sleep. He had been doing the rounds of locking up and shutting off the lights while you spoke, only wearing a thin pair black and blue flannel pants. At least he held the phone pretty leveled so you weren’t forced to stare at his torso, but there had been several times where you found your gaze lingering on his muscular body.

“I mean,” you ran a hand through your hair, shrugging as he looked back at you. “It happens to everyone.”

Changkyun frowned though. “No,” he said, his voice gentle but firm at the same time. “No, it doesn’t. And that shouldn’t have happened to you.”

Blinking, you forced the memory away, shifting in your seat to get comfortable once again. Just because you didn’t enjoy the holiday, or didn’t have anyone to spend it with, didn’t mean that was the case with Changkyun. Why else would he be reluctant to say what his plans were? He was probably just being nice and didn’t want to appear like he was rubbing salt into an old wound that refused to heal.

“Hey,” Changkyun’s voice softened again, and as much as you knew you shouldn’t, you wished that he was here, in the apartment with you for him to hold you. “It’s still early in the morning. For all you know, there’s a Mr. Right, who’s going to stumble into your path today.”

You scoffed, the clicking of your mouse echoing in the bedroom. “I mean, I don’t have plans to go out.”

“Surprises can happen you know.”

“Alright Changkyun,” now that the internet was up, you glanced back at the phone. “I gotta get to work. Stay safe out there.”

“Always am. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

There was a pause, and when you looked back over, the call was still going. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for either of you to leave it going while doing work, the silence was never awkward, it was more comforting than anything, but this time there was a sense of something being left un–

“You look pretty today,” Changkyun said suddenly.

Blinking, your fingers tightened around the mouse as your heart raced. “What? You can’t even see me Changkyun.”

“So?”

“I could be wearing my pajamas for all you know,” your voice faltered, and despite the constriction of wearing jeans, you pulled your legs up on to the chair to hug them to your chest.

“I’ve already seen you in your pajamas,” he joked. “You’re still pretty though.”

He was smiling. You knew for certain that he was, and that made your palms turn clammy, forcing you to wipe them against the pant leg.

“Maybe I’m not, wearing clothes?” Internally you slapped yourself, instantly regretting those words, and perhaps your entire existence at this point. It was still early. Instead of work, maybe you could possibly bury yourself under all the blankets and never answer his phone calls again.

Hearing shuffling coming from the phone, you pressed your lips together, not entirely sure if you wanted to hear what he had to say.

“Are you trying to keep me from my plans today?” His voice deepened and if it weren’t for the fact that you were already sitting down, you were certain that you’d be on the floor.

“No, I’m just stupid,” you blurted out, slamming your hand over your mouth.

Changkyun chuckled, and suddenly the phone seemed closer to him because his voice became clearer. “I think you’re trying to seduce me.”

Oh god. No. It was absolutely the other way around. He was the one who had the advantage on his side, between the lip bites and the selfies he sent that captured his jawline that was perfect to cut glass with. Whether it was his godly features, or when the two of you were video chatting and he rolled onto his stomach and face planted himself into the pillow, you fell for him every time.

“Know what?” You rushed to say, ignoring his laughter. “I have work and you have things to do. Stay safe, and I’ll talk to you later. Bye!”

There was no hesitation. This time you slammed your finger on the end call button and for extra measure, tossed it away and on the bed, letting it disappear among the sea of messy blankets.

Shakily sighing, you slid further down in the chair as the edge of the desk pinned your legs to your chest to keep from falling to the ground. He had never said anything like that before. Sure, there were times where he’d see you do something or when you’d ramble on about a show or work, he’d might say cute, but that always felt like an afterthought.

“Damn it Changkyun,” you said, glaring at where you had thrown the phone and hating the fact that his words kept circling around your mind, making you feel incredibly warmer than you had been ten minutes earlier. Hating that while he was probably going to be on a date with some pretty girl who was worth his time, you were at home, working on a Sunday, wishing that the guy you hadn’t even met in person was here and telling you that in-between kisses.

You ran a hand over your face with a groan, fingers of course getting caught in the bun briefly as you sat up. There was work to be done, and with a click of the mouse, the programs you needed quickly opened up. It was fairly easy, and if you focused, would only take an hour, maybe even less to get done. But with Changkyun on the brain, all you wanted to do was curl back up under the messy blankets and daydream about him. About what it would be like to hug him, to hear his voice in person, and perhaps, spend a Valentine’s day with someone who wouldn’t let you down.

That wasn’t going to happen though. It was a daydream and nothing more.

Lacing your fingers together, you quickly turned them inward, groaning in satisfaction at the loud crack that emitted from the joints. Outside the window that the desk was placed in front of, the sun had already begun its descent for the night. The sky was painted in splashes of orange with lazy clouds slipping in, the remaining bits of blue falling steadily behind.

Despite what Changkyun had predicted, he was only partially correct. With him swimming freely in your mind, you had been distracted, lost in a hazy daydream that made it impossible to focus on the graphics that you were trying to finish up. More often than not you stepped away from the desk, feet guiding you to the other room or in small twirls with the faintest lovesick smile. It was impossible to get anything done. So, you said fuck it. It was Sunday after all, and you weren’t expected to have those scheduled to be posted for a few days. Where was the harm in having one day to yourself? One with no work whatsoever to stress you out?

With work out of the way and having no other plans, another cup of coffee had been made and in the spirit of the holiday, your gaze had lingered on the makeup that sat on the dresser. Most of it had gone unused as the weeks melted into months. Tubes of lipstick and eye shadow palettes once loved had been forgotten about, and as you recalled, the brushes that you typically forgot to clean had been washed out of pure boredom. It was with new motivation that you grabbed a majority of the collection and hopped onto the counter in the bathroom, music playing from a playlist filled with songs from your younger years that held nostalgia, and simply played around with the colors.

By the time you were done, an hour had gone by, and you gained two cut creases with glitter, contoured cheeks, painted your lips, and looked like you were ready to go out for a date out in the city to be wined and dined. Instead, you slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks and slid into the kitchen with plans to see what frozen meal the freezer had to offer. If anything, it had the bare bones of a date. The location? Your couch. The hot leading man? Most likely the main character from whatever show you finally decided on after you gave a good scroll through Netflix. All you needed was utter disappointment and it could be considered a success.

You were torn between making the decision for frozen lasagna or chicken Alfredo, but a sudden and loud knock at the door stopped you. Eyebrows pulling in confusion, you carefully set the food on the counter, taking a moment to slip on the mask that you left hanging on the doorknob for situations like this. Not that they occurred often. With the exception of having food delivered, once the world realized that this pandemic wasn’t just a simple flu and doctors encouraged people to stay home, you hadn’t invited anyone over. It was lonely, and you missed your friends and family greatly, but this wasn’t a situation to take lightly.

“I’m sorry,” you said, opening the door once the fabric mask was securely on. “I think you might have the wrong…”

And you stopped. Stopped talking and stared. Stared at the man leaning against your door frame, wearing a black as ink suit jacket, a pristine white button up shirt was tucked into matching black pants, with the top several buttons undone to reveal a tanned and toned chest that you knew he took pride in considering all the gym selfies he sent. The black fabric mask he wore hid most of his face, but the corners of his eyes were crinkled together.

“I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be,” Changkyun said, his deep voice sounding better in real life than you had expected, and dreamed of.

He pushed off of the frame and it was then that you noticed the things in his hands. In the left, was a plastic bag stuffed with packaged containers, and in the right…in his right wrapped in pink tissue paper was a bouquet of red and pink carnations with babies’ breath mixed in. There had to be at least a dozen, perhaps a baker’s dozen, if not a few extra.

There were no words. After all the books you consumed to pass the time, articles you searched for work, and even countless texts sent to friends, everything escaped you at that very moment because he was here. He was actually here and standing in front of you.

“I know you said you haven’t had anyone over since this started. But I got tested a couple days ago, came back negative, and we’ve both been working from home this entire time so if you want…” Changkyun lifted the bag he held into view and this time, you could see that even though it was triple bagged, you were able to make a red dragon printed on the cartons. “I have Chinese food, and I’m willing to bet that Netflix has something for us to watch. If you’re not comfortable though that’s fine. I have plenty of food that we can—”

Except he didn’t get to finish what he was saying before you tugged him into the apartment by his arm. Immediately, your arms wound their way around his waist and you pressed your face into his chest, tightly hugging him.

“It’s you,” you said, feeling his right arm carefully rest on your back to hold you close, all while being mindful of the flowers that he was carrying.

There was a soft chuckle from above as he laid his head on top of yours. “It’s good to finally see you too.”

Smiling, your arms tightened around him once more before you stepped backwards, letting him enter the apartment completely. “You didn’t have to bring flowers you know.”

“And show up empty handed?”

You gestured towards the table for him to set the food down, taking the flowers and going to the sink. “You bought Chinese food. That more than would have made up for no flowers.” But while the vase filled with water and you trimmed the stems, gently adding them in one by one, there was a warmth spreading within your chest that came right from the heart, even more so when he chuckled. The only people to ever buy you flowers on Valentine’s day were your parents.

Like always, the silence that followed felt natural. The only difference was that you were aware that Changkyun was moving around in the kitchen with you, getting plates and silverware out without having to ask where things were because he had seen you do the same thing countless times before while video chatting. You just never thought he was actually paying attention.

When they were all in the vase, you tossed the ends in the trash and turned around, only to see that once again, he was watching you.

“Why are you staring?”

Changkyun shrugged, running a hand through his hair as the black locks fell right back into his eyes. “I was right.”

Tilting your head, you walked over to the table and set the vase in the center. You were already so close to him, but he leaned his head down, the black fabric of his mask brushing against the top of your ear.

“That you look pretty,” he said softly. “And it’s not because of the makeup. I had a feeling you might dress up today; you look beautiful.”

The air that you had been breathing was instantly stolen, and when you made the mistake of looking up at him, you realized just how close the two of you were. If it weren’t for the masks you both wore…

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” you teased, trying to not glance at where his lips would be. “You’re a lot taller than messenger video makes you out to be.”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. Straightening up, Changkyun slipped his suit jacket off and set it on the back of a chair to undo the buttons on his cuffs, taking the time to roll each sleeve up to his elbows. “You’re meaner in person.”

Good god. You knew that he worked out, but damn. Maybe not for the first couple weeks, eventually Changkyun fell into the habit of sending selfies while he was working out at the gym. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but seeing his tanned arms and the white sleeve making its way up to his elbow, it sparked the butterflies and gave them a newfound fluttering energy.

“Do you wanna eat or not?” Not thinking of it, you reached up to unhook the elastic from around your ears, removing the mask and setting it back on the counter. With a glance up at him, you saw him raise an eyebrow before he mimicked your movements to take off his own mask, revealing the jaw that tempted your daydreams in more ways than you wished.

He smiled, and you handed him his plate and together, the two of you fixed up heaping plates of Chinese food, using the concept of needing to eat to distract yourself. Everything was still hot and as you settled on the couch, steam curled its way up into the air.

“Were you able to get your secret plans done today?” You asked, glancing over at him while Netflix loaded up on the TV screen.

“Why are you so interested in what I had to do?” He was focused on the dumpling that he held with the chopsticks, not meeting your gaze at all.

It wasn’t that you meant to be focused on that. But he had acted so suspicious on the phone earlier, and now he was here, having dinner in your apartment with enough Chinese food to cost a small fortune, along with sixteen carnations – yes, you counted while cutting them – on Valentine’s Day. There had been no warning, and as much as you wanted to believe that he was here for more than a friendly drop in, the idea of him having been on a date earlier in the day and was here to talk about it, about the possible other girl, killed the butterflies. You had already been through this once, you didn’t want to go through it again. Not with him.

Scrolling through the list of suggestions, you didn’t notice Changkyun looking over at you, or the way his face softened. His fingers tightened around the chopsticks and he leaned back against the cushion.

“What’s that one about?” He nodded towards one of the movies that was in the watch again section.

You raised an eyebrow, scrolling over to it. “Please don’t tell me that you’ve never seen Love Actually?”

“If I did, would I have asked what it’s about?”

Unable to stop yourself, an undignified sound escaped you as you wildly gestured with the remote. “How? It’s like the sweetest romance, Christmas movie ever. They play it every year. It even has Liam Neeson, the man promising to find and kill everyone, as a sweet dad who doesn’t kill anyone! That alone is a true Christmas miracle by itself.”

The thought of him being with someone else dissipated at the sound of his laughter. Even caught up in the excitement of this particular movie, you couldn’t stop the smile that grew. No matter what, even in real life or over video, you always found yourself grinning the second he laughed or smiled. He was without a doubt contagious, in the best way possible.

“What are you waiting for?” He said, gesturing towards the screen with the chopsticks, shoulders relaxing at the sight of your smile and apparent joy for the film. One that he had in fact, seen a few times over the years. “Press play.”

There was no hesitation. You were determined to culture him in what you deemed to be a classic in romance films. So, as you comfortably settled in, belly growing full of warm and delicious food, you once again missed Changkyun’s wide smile. It was the kind of grin that no matter what he did, or how serious he tried to be, simply wouldn’t go away.

The empty dinner plates sat long forgotten about on the coffee table as another movie played, this one involving an action pack fight scene with aliens in New York City. Hours had passed since Changkyun arrived at your door, and despite it growing late and Valentine’s Day was nearing its end, his polished shoes were unlaced and tossed on the floor. A wine bottle had been opened up, and you sat much closer to him to share a blanket with him. You were blaming it on the wine for being so bold because when he stretched an arm on the back of the couch, you didn’t think twice about gently leaning your head against it.

You couldn’t even really blame it on the wine. It was the first glass for both of you, and you were a slow drinker, so you were as sober as a newborn lamb at the moment.

It was just like when the two of you would video chat with the same movie on, but so much better. Having him here, you were noticing the smallest things that you’d miss when on the phone.  At the base of his neck was a small mole that you never realized he had, or that he was wearing two thin silver chains – a pair that, now that you thought about it, he never went without. Behind you, he’d occasionally rub his fingers together and the metal of his bracelet would lightly clink against itself. With the few glances that you stole, his attention was solely on the movie and his jaw appeared to be pressed together.

Feeling a sudden weight, you turned to see him settling his arm around your shoulders. His wrist was now hanging over your arm, and it took all your willpower to not reach up with a free hand to lace your fingers loosely with his. When you glanced back up at him, he was in mid sip of his wine, throat bobbing with each swallow.

Shit. This was not helping the butterflies that seemed to have multiplied since his arrival.

Changkyun raised an eyebrow when he lowered his glass, softly humming in question, but you only shook your head and focused back on the movie. Except, now you were hyper aware that he was looking at you this time.

“What’s wrong?” He murmured, his thumb and fingers lightly rubbing against your arm.

That was another thing. His voice was deep. In the calls, the phone occasionally cracked and had made it seem lighter, but it appeared to be just the opposite. He was blessed with a voice that was able to drop lower than a bass, sending your insides to mush when he spoke. It was the type of voice that was destined to recite poetry and old sonnets, to hold three in the morning conversations that went wherever and everywhere. When he called your name, it never failed to send tingles running the length of your body. It was his voice, and you knew that you’d never grow tired of hearing him talk.

“Nothing. I was just thinking,” you said, leaning your head back, his arm comfortable and warm as you looked up at the ceiling, trying to avoid his gaze for a few seconds.

His fingers didn’t stop. The gentle caress, a small reassurance that he was in fact here and this wasn’t your imagination, made it harder to stay where you sat instead of curling into his side like you wanted.

“Thinking about what?”

Letting out a breathless scoff, you tilted your head towards him. Changkyun was a sight to see and you knew that if this was the only time you got to spend with him in person, you were never going to forget this moment.

Your smile softened. “That you’re actually here, after all these months of texts and video calls. You actually came here, and you’re real.”

“Did you think I was a robot or something?” Changkyun teased, but his fingers stopped moving, and that lock of hair fell back into his eyes again.

“Well, you did accidentally call me instead of Jooheon and last time I checked, we look nothing alike.” There was no thinking as you reached up and mimicked his movements to push that damn lock back, feeling how soft his hair was. It brought you a little bit closer to him and in that second, the world suddenly felt like it was no longer moving when you glanced down at his lips. Those pink lips that you wondered and dreamt about night after night, too curious for your own good on what it would be like to kiss him. Now was your chance to find out, especially when he didn’t lean back and appeared to be getting closer.

“Cookies?” You suddenly asked, leaning back to see his eyebrows start to pull together in confusion. Heart racing, you set your wine glass on the coffee table and walked around the couch to step into the kitchen. With only your back to him, you quietly let out a shaky breath. “I know I have some for us to munch on…”

Opening up a cabinet, you stretched on to your toes to search for the package of cookies that you knew were in there, mentally slapping yourself at having done that. He hadn’t backed away, hadn’t tried to stop you, in fact, if you allowed yourself to believe it, you would have recalled that he had started to lean in when you randomly brought up cookies. As much as you wanted to, the last thing you wanted was to lose your friendship.

You were pushing aside a box of crackers when his hand captured your wrist, halting your search. It felt like your heart was about to leap out of its cage when his fingers gently wrapped around your hand, and when his palm settled on a hip, it was equally as comforting as it lit a spark inside you. There was nothing you wanted to do more than to melt into his embrace.

“Sweetheart, do you really think I’m here to just hang out?” He asked, his voice low as he spoke into your ear, his body stepping closer to yours.

“You’re…you’re not?” You weakly asked, nervous because you didn’t want this all to be a joke.

The idea of this being a one night only thing thanks to the holiday left an ache in your bones. You wanted more nights like this with him, wanted to hear him call out your name with that gentle smile of his over and over again. Dammit, you wanted to wake up and have the blankets be stifling hot but not care as you crawled over to his side of the bed, searching for morning cuddles because fuck the person who decided that the workday would start at eight in the morning. The only person you wanted to spend this quarantine with, to be able to touch, to be worried and even scared about all this with, was Changkyun.

Changkyun’s breath hit the back of your neck as he softly chuckled, sending a shiver down your spine. “God, I thought I was being obvious. Let me try this differently.”

Still holding on to your wrist, he turned you around and once you were facing him, let go of your hand to step closer until your back was against the counter. With each breath your chest brushed against his, and when he pushed the hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear, fingers brushing against your cheek, you almost forgot to breathe.

“I know you’ve always had a pretty crappy Valentine’s day,” Changkyun softly spoke. His gaze was steady with yours, and even though he was being serious, there was a softness to his features that had the corner of his mouth curling upwards. “And I thought that the best way to keep that from repeating this year, would be if you spent it with someone, who loves you.”

Who loves…oh.

It suddenly all made sense. Why he didn’t want to say what he was doing to celebrate, him calling you pretty, the food and flowers, the coaxing touches, he could have rented a billboard and put up a neon flashing sign and you probably still would have been blind.

“Changkyun,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek.

He softly smiled as he closed the remaining space between you to rest his forehead against yours, his palms sliding along your body until he had you wrapped in a hug. “There you go, now you get it.”

Giggling, you rolled your eyes out of habit. It was like him to be a smart ass during a moment like this. With that being said, the butterflies fluttered their way up to your heart, and all the daydreams that you entertained and thought nothing would come of them, now had the possibility of becoming reality.

“I love you too,” you said, running your thumb along his cheek as you watched his smile widen.

There was no hesitation, or smart ass comments this time. Instead, when his lips met yours in a kiss, your heart stopped racing. The butterflies finally calmed down and the world around you went out of focus as your fingers slid through his hair. His lips were soft, and thanks to the red wine, there was a lingering tangy sweetness that reminded you of raspberries. You found yourself becoming addicted to his taste, the kisses melting together until you lost track of how long the two of you stood there, content with doing nothing but being wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

A clock chimed out in the apartment, breaking the kiss which only served to make you pout at the loss of his lips. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Changkyun, who smirked before leaning down to give one more kiss, which quickly turned into two, then three.

“Don’t you have work in the morning?” He murmured, resting his forehead once more against yours.

“You trying to kiss and dash?”

His fingers gently pressed into your sides and you squirmed at his touch, giggling at his antics. However, he leaned his head back and sighed. “Like hell I’d do that. But you usually wake up earlier for work, and trust me, I’ll end up keeping you awake if I stay the night.”

There was no doubt about that, and to be truthful, you’d have no issue if that was the case. He was right, but as ideas turned in your mind, you shrugged. “You can’t go out driving though,” you said softly. “You were drinking.”

Changkyun frowned, head tilting as he removed a hand from your back to run through his hair. “Not even a whole glass.”

You raised an eyebrow. It took him having to say he loved you for you to understand how he felt about you despite his dine and wine attempt, and here he was, completely missing what you were suggesting. Either you were absolutely perfect for each other, or equally dense.

“Well, we also broke quarantine,” you said slowly, slipping a finger through his belt loop at the same time to bring him closer. “Isn’t the recommendation to stay at home for what, at least three days?”

He started to tilt his head, mouth opening to question what you were saying until he saw the smile growing on your face. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips together before looking back at you.

“That was horrible,” Changkyun said. He slipped his arms back around you, pulling you away from the counter. His grin said otherwise. “At least I tried being romantic.”

“Well, I mean, if you really want to go back to your place by yourself…”

He didn’t let you say another word, his lips reclaiming yours again, because there was absolutely nothing that felt better than kissing you after months of dreaming what it would be like.

“Don’t go,” you softly murmured against his lips. “Not when you just got here.”

Maybe it was selfish. But you didn’t want to be alone again. Not when he had gone through so much trouble to make this night special, not when you finally knew that he felt the same way about you. After almost a year of staying inside the apartment whenever you could, of going without hugs or get togethers, being able to touch and kiss Changkyun felt like you were relearning what those were all over again. All you wanted was a few days with him.

Changkyun hummed, his arms tightening around you. “Sweetheart, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” he said, gazing down at you as if he had considered the same thing.

The clock that had rang out to announce the hour of a new day and that Valentine’s day was over, continued to quietly tick in the other room. The Earth continued to spin, and outside, the world was exactly how it had been this morning, full of fear, what ifs, and the unknown of a pandemic that didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon.

But inside that small apartment, wrapped in Changkyun’s arms, giggles and laughter filled the walls when he pulled you to the middle of the kitchen and spun you around for a late-night dance. It might not be the thing that changes the world, but for the first time, in a long time, hope began to blossom alongside the butterflies in your stomach. The memories of past Valentine’s days melted away at his kiss, until only the memory of him at your door remained.

Even when it hadn’t felt like it, love and hope had always been there. And now it was here promising lovelier days to come.

[sunmoonandeddie]

saturdays

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3,467

summary: Bucky Barnes has a new routine.

warnings: Some swearing

a/n:  This was my March 2020 one shot for my Patreon that they received early access to.  Let me know what y’all think!

Bucky Barnes has a new routine.

Sundays are for sleeping in before eventually making his way to Brooklyn, where he picks up three bouquets and an egg, bacon, and cheese breakfast sandwich from Sal’s bodega before going to the cemetery.  He sits against his sister’s tombstone—his parents’ to his right—and eats his late breakfast.  He sits and talks for a few hours before leaving the flowers on their graves.  He always has to have peonies, since those were Becca’s favorites.

Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays are for training.  He wakes up at five in the morning to go running with Sam, something he thought would end when Steve went back to be with Peggy Carter.  But he wasn’t bitter.  No.

But which thing he wasn’t bitter about, he’d never tell.

Along with the run, he spends most of the day sparring and battling simulations in the gym.  He has short breaks for meals, but he pretty much is on go until after dinner, when he goes straight to bed.

But Fridays are his favorite.  Because he gets to sleep in until nine-thirty in the morning, which is a luxury he’s not used to.  Then Sam and him grab a late breakfast together before Bucky goes into the city for his therapy session.

And Bucky likes his therapist!  Which he was really, really surprised about!  But Marlene is good.  Marlene is good because she doesn’t placate him.  She calls him out on his shit, and pushes him forward.  Because if it had been up to him, he would’ve stopped seeing her after their third meeting, when she had him drawing with fucking crayons that snapped in his hand way too easily.  But it’s been over a year since he started seeing her, and even though he still has his bad days, his bad days now would’ve been his best days before.

“So, you think you’re finally ready to go through Rebecca’s things?” Marlene asks, looking at him with a peaceful expression.

“I don’t think so, I am,” he says firmly, feeling a rush of triumph as a smile spreads across her lips.  “It’s time, you know?”

She nods in understanding, humming.  “Do you have someone going with you?”

Usually, Sam would go with him for things like this, and just in general.  They were attached at the hip, especially after the whole Steve leaving thing.

Yeah, they were both hit pretty hard with that.

“Yes, but I…”  He sighs, rubbing his hands on his jeans.  “I think this is something I need to do alone.  At least, the going through her stuff part…  But he is going with me to move the stuff to the Tower.”

“Good, good,” she says, her brows slightly furrowed.  “And how are you feeling today about Steve leaving?”

Bucky lets out a huff of air, taking a moment to think about it.  “To be completely honest with you…  I’m kind of over it today.  I have other things to do and yeah, I would’ve liked him to be here for it, but that’s not how it is.  And him leaving is more about him than it is about me.”  He shrugs, his lips pressed into a thin line.  “Just because he decided to go back doesn’t mean he wanted to leave me.”

Marlene sets her clipboard to the side, a warm smile on her face.  “Well, Bucky, I think we’ll end today on that thought.”  She stands up, offering her hand for him to shake as she does everyday.  “You’ve done well today.  You should be proud of yourself.”

He leaves with a wave and a “See you next week!” as he always does.

He hadn’t known about the storage unit full of his sister’s stuff until about eight months ago, when he asked Maria Hill if there was anything left of hers.  He knew that SHIELD had been the ones to take control of her assets when she had no children, since she was the sister of a Howling Commando and the best friend of Captain America.

Becca had died in December of 2013.  He’d missed her by less than six months.

It was heartbreaking when he first found out, and still is, if he was being honest.  But at least he has her stuff to go through, even though he has no idea what all is going to be in the storage unit.  Stevie hadn’t had anything other than what the Smithsonian had snatched up.

The car ride to the storage facility is quiet, Sam at the wheel.  Bucky still hasn’t gotten his license, since he doesn’t see a point.  Why should he when there’s the subway and Uber and even just good old fashioned walking?  “You’ve gotta save the Earth, Sam,” he says when he really feels like irritating the other man.

“You sure you’re ready for this, man?” Sam asks as they stand in front of storage unit 429.

“Yeah,” Buck says, punching in the key code and lifting up the door.  “Yeah, I’m ready.”  He flips the light switch on the wall, and is shocked by just how much stuff there is.  There’s boxes upon boxes upon boxes.

Sam’s hands go to his hips as he looks at it, whistling.  “Alright.  Let’s get it loaded.”

It takes several hours and three trips to get everything from the storage unit to the Tower, and by the end of it, the both of them just collapse on the couch with a couple of beers and a pizza to share between them.

But Saturday morning comes bright and early, and even though it’s his only day out of the week where he has absolutely nothing to do, Bucky knows he has to start going through her things.

The first four boxes are just clothes.  Clothes upon clothes upon clothes.  He finds a baby blue dress that she used to wear for church, starched to perfection, and he holds it to his chest for a long time.  He cries then.

And he knows that the fact that she’s hoarded so many clothes has a lot to do from growing up during the Depression.  He still finds himself falling into old habits of checking the price of food, despite the fact that he never has to worry about money again with his Avengers salary and the backpay from being a POW.

He finds his parents’ wedding rings, and the string of pearls his ma wore for special occasions.

And then he finds an old shoe box, and when he opens it up, he finds letters.  Letters upon letters upon letters.  They’re in bundles, tied together with fraying ribbon.  The paper is yellowed and soft from being folded and unfolded so many times, and he can see the looping black letters that covered the pages.

He takes the ones that look the oldest and unties them, he takes the top one from the stack and sets the rest to the side, before carefully unfolding it.

“Ruthie,” he says quietly as he reads the name at the bottom, not even bothering to read it yet.  “Ruthie…”  His eyes pop open as he suddenly remembers, remembers receiving letters everyday from a girl in the Bronx.  They were never romantic, but it was nice being able to write to someone and not having to hide how bad it was, like he had to with his ma and Becca.  She even sent her picture once, so he could know who he was writing to.  “Ruthie!”

He spends the rest of the day reading the letters, and passes out sometime around four in the morning with his face on a letter.  He takes the letters with him to his family’s graves the next day, reading to them after he replaces the flowers.

It takes him two more days to finish reading all the letters, in between breaks while training and staying up until he absolutely can’t.

He cries a lot while he reads it.  He’s not afraid to admit that.  But it’s nice to remember that he had a friend to listen to him during one of the worst times of his life.

Bucky’s almost afraid to look her up, to find out if she was still alive, and if he could go see her, to thank her.  They wrote back and forth until the day he fell off the train, and he knows that had to be pretty jarring for her.

But then Sam finds out about the letters—it would be hard for him not to, considering that he was walking around with his nose in the letters for days—and it’s all over.

Turns out, she’s alive.  She’s alive, and she’s still in Queens.

He goes the next Saturday, taking his bike all the way to the other borough.  He looks a little intimidating and extremely different from how he looked back then, but he hopes she recognizes him.  He really, really hopes she recognizes him, because otherwise this’ll be real awkward.

He stands in front of the door for a long time, taking his hands in and out of his pockets about eight times before he finally reaches up and knocks.

And then the door opens, and there’s Ruthie.

Well, not Ruthie, though at first glance, you’re the perfect picture of her.  You’ve got her hair and her eyes, and the curve of her lips.  But the nose is different.

“Can I help you?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at him.  You’re wiping your hand on a hand towel, peering at him like you recognize him from somewhere but you don’t know where.

“Hi, uh,” he says slowly.  His throat is suddenly so dry that he can barely talk.  “I’m Bucky.  Bucky Barnes.  I was pen pals with—”

He’s cut off by Ruthie herself appearing in the doorway.  She’s much older—she is ninety-nine, after all—but it’s definitely her.  “Did you say Bucky Barnes?”  The little old lady’s eyes widened as she saw him, her hand over her heart.  “Oh, my stars, it’s really you.  I heard about what happened to you, and I…”  She shakes her head, clicking her tongue.  “Why, it almost gave me a heart attack, you know.”

“Little Ruthie Pratt from Queens,” he says, reaching in his pocket and holding up the letters.  “I found these while, uh, going through my sister’s stuff.”

“I still have mine!” Ruthie says, pulling him inside.

It’s nice and homey and everything that Bucky had thought it would be.  The front foyer is covered in photos, and there’s quite a few of you.  You’re clearly one of Ruthie’s pride and joys, if the sheer amount of them has anything to do about it.

“I used to read these to my grandbaby here,” Ruthie says as she comes back with an old oak jewelry box in hand.  “Anytime she stayed the night—her parents worked a lot when she was growing up—she always asked me to read her one of my ‘Bucky letters.’”

“Grandmama,” you say, cheeks flushing as you avoid his eyes.

“It was so cute!  She used to recite them word for word along with me!” Ruthie teases as they go to the living room.

It’s quaint, with soft pastel colors dominating the room.  He sits on a floral sofa that’s got a circle with dark hair on it, the marking of a furry friend’s favorite spot.  He watches as you move to the kitchen, grabbing a pitcher of what looks like tea and a few glasses.

You sit beside her with the ease of knowing that you belong here, pouring yourself a glass.  “Grandmama, do you want some tea?”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she opens the box and looks for the oldest one.  “You keep that monstrosity away from me,” she says.  Seemingly remembering Bucky’s presence, she says, “My daughter’s husband is from Louisiana.  Ridiculous man got both her and my grandbaby addicted to that absolute sludge.”

The secret smile you give him as the two of you listen to her tirade about sweet tea makes him feel at ease, and sets the tone for the rest of the afternoon.

Things go on as normal, or as normal as they can.

And Marlene happens to think that all of this is absolutely fantastic for him.  She loves that he’s now spending time with Ruthie and you, reconnecting with his past while understanding that he doesn’t have to be the person he was in the letters.

He’s different.  He’s not the Bucky that Ruthie knew back then.

It’s an unusually warm day in November four months later when he takes you out for a coffee, just the two of you.  And it isn’t a date—really, it isn’t—but he finds himself wanting it to be about halfway through his second coffee.

And that’s why he starts talking about dating to Marlene, who had, quite frankly, been waiting for him to realize his feelings for a while.

“I think I’m in love with her,” he says as he storms into his therapy session, eyes wild and hair a disarray.  He’s clearly been worrying real hard about it.

Marlene looks up at him, peering over the silver rim of her glasses.  “Oh, really?” She says nonchalantly, as though she doesn’t have you in her notes about him.  “And why is that?”

Bucky can’t help the frown on his face as he realizes that she didn’t even ask who he was talking about, because she knew.  “I…  I don’t know,” he says, slumping into his usual chair.  “She makes me happy.  Happier than I’ve ever been.  And she always makes me laugh, even at the most inappropriate of times.”  His gaze softens the more he thinks about you.  “And she isn’t scared of me.  She doesn’t judge me.  She’s read about everything I did in the war, even before HYDRA, and she doesn’t care.”  His hands are sweating as he rubs them together.  “Actually, it’s not that she doesn’t care—she does care—but she cares because she… she loves me.”

You love him.  And sure, he knows that.  You’ve said that you love him multiple times, even if you only mean it as a friend way.

But the thought that he has someone who loves him that doesn’t have to is… groundbreaking.

“She loves me, and she wants me to be okay,” he says, looking up at Marlene then.

His therapist has a pleased look in her eyes, even if she won’t let it show with a smile.  “I think she’s good for you,” she says simply, her pen held loosely in her hand.  “Are you seeing her again soon?”

“I’m seeing her tomorrow night,” he says, his heart growing light.  “We’re grabbing a few drinks to celebrate her finally graduating from cosmetology school.”

It’s a big deal for you, completely something.  You’re smart, there’s no denying that, but when it comes to schooling…  You’d done well in high school, but college proved to be the bane of your existence.

You’d dropped out in the middle of your junior year, and that had been it.  You’d moved to Queens to live with Ruthie after, working various low level jobs and trying to find something that fit.

But you’d fit in at cosmetology school.  Hell, you excelled.  And you enjoyed it!  You enjoyed waking up in the morning and going to your classes!

You cried when you got your certificate, and it was now framed in Ruthie’s house until you start your first salon job in two weeks.

“Are you going to tell her about your feelings?” Marlene asks curiously.

Now that makes him pause.

“... Should I?” Bucky asks, feeling a wave of anxiety coming over him.  “What if she doesn’t feel the same way?  And she sees me as just a friend?”

“If she’s really your friend, she won’t abandon you just because you tell her you have romantic feelings for her.”

“You sure about that?”

Marlene fixes him with a look, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

He runs his tongue over his teeth.  “Fine.  You’re sure,” he says, slumping a little in his chair.  “Doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

She snorts, making a note on her pad.  “I never said it was going to be easy, Bucky.  Doesn’t mean it can’t be done.”

The next night, he spends an hour and a half trying to decide what to wear.  “It shouldn’t be this hard,” he grumbles as he switches shirts for the forty-ninth time.  “It’s just drinks.”

Sam, however, is having a great time watching his new best friend freak out over seeing a girl for the first time.  “I mean, she already agreed to going out with your ugly mug, man.  It’s not gonna matter what you wear.”

And in some way, that helps.  A little.

But he does have to threaten Sam with bodily harm if he spies on his date that’s not really a date.

He almost boxes him the ear when he insists for the fourth time that it’s a date.

He shows up at your door with a bouquet of flowers from Sal’s bodega, the buttons of his dark blue henley left open, exposing a smattering of chest hair.

When you open the door, the air is knocked from his lungs.  You look absolutely radiant.  The light from the sinking sun is giving you a halo-like glow, and he’s sure, not for the first time, that you’re an actual angel.

“Hi,” you say, a flush on your cheeks as you see the flowers.  “Are those…  Are those for me?”

He nods dumbly, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat.  “Y-Yes,” he says, pushing them into your arms.  “As a congrats.  For, you know, graduating.  And stuff.”

“Thank you,” you say as you take them, handing them to Ruthie.

She’s standing just inside the door, a giddy look on her face as she holds the flowers, watching you take the motorcycle helmet from his hands.  “Have her back by twelve!”

“Grandmama!”

“Fine!  Twelve-thirty!”

You’re clearly embarrassed by her antics as he helps you on behind him, guiding your arms around his waist.

“You ready?” He asks, his voice breathy.

A shiver runs down your spine as you nod, wrapping your arms tighter around him as he starts the bike, taking off.

“She doesn’t actually mean that,” you say as he leads you into the tiny, out of the way bar.  You’re fixing your hair, trying your best to appear presentable.  “I’m grown, you know.  I don’t…  I don’t have a curfew.”

A slow smile spreads over his lips as he listens to you ramble.  “I know,” he says finally, figuring he should put you out of your misery.  “Ruthie does like to tease those she loves.”

The bar is quaint, clearly a local place that tourists haven’t invaded.  He leads you to a high table, calling out your order to the lone bartender.

“So, I—”

“I like you,” Bucky says, unintentionally cutting you off with a wince.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I really, really like you, and I really, really want this to be a date, but if you don’t feel the same way then I completely understand and we can just forget that I ever said anything and everything can just go back to normal and that might be the best thing because, quite frankly, I haven’t dated since the forties and I have no idea how dating is supposed to work nowadays, but I’d really like to try it with you but only if you—”

His rambling is cut off as you place your hand on his, intertwining your fingers.  “Okay,” you say, like it’s the easiest thing ever.  “It’s a date.”

He stares at you for an embarrassingly long time, his mouth dry.  “Uh…  What?” He says quietly.  His heart is pounding at an unnaturally fast pace, and he honestly thinks he might be on the verge of a heart attack.

“I like you, too,” you say, smiling at the bartender as he brings you over your drinks.  You look so beautiful, your eyes the brightest thing in the dim lighting of the bar.  “So this is a date.”

“Okay,” he breathes out, a wave of relief washing over him.  “It’s a date.”

He’s a little starstruck as you continue on with what you were going to say before, a pink blush dusting his cheeks.  Your hand stays in his for the rest of the night, occasionally giving a little squeeze as though you’re reminding him that you’re still there and you’re not going to disappear.

And it feels good.

And okay, Marlene may have been right.

And yeah, Fridays might be good.  But as he sits there with you until the late hours of the night, he’s sure: Saturdays are his new favorite day.  Because Saturdays brought him a new beginning when he wasn’t expecting it.

[nalu4emily]

The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 17

Summary:  Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised. Rated Mature. 

"Hey, Flame head! Wait up!" Gray called over, catching the fire mage as he hurriedly made for the guild's exit. "Where're you going in such hurry?"

Turning to catch the ice mage walking straight for him, Natsu stopped to answer, "Home. I left Lucy and Haru asleep this morning, so I better get back to 'em."

"Oh... You've not been at the guild much lately, is everything cool with you?" The ice mage pushed further.

"Uh… Yeah! Been kinda busy and stuff, ya know." The slayer shrugged, not seeming too interested in divulging any further information.

"Well, are ya too busy to come on a mission? It's been some time since our last job together as a team." Gray asked, scratching the back of his head.

"It has been a while, now you mention it… I'd have to ask Lucy if she's feeling up to it yet, she's still not feeling too good… Anyway, catch ya later!" Natsu spoke cheerily and turned back towards the door, his hand reaching for the handle.

"Lucy's been sick for an awfully long time now, Natsu." He heard another voice say, halting him in his tracks, "Are you sure there's not something else going on?" Lisanna came up and elbowed him playfully in the arm.

"Hm?" He replied, retracting his arm back to his side.

"That's right! Lucy hasn't shown her face in months now. Has something happened? Are you guys having relationship issues?!" Levy gasped at the thought, her eyes wide with her mouth hung low.

"Relationship issues?" Natsu cocked his eyebrow in disdain; what kind of nonsense was that?

"I think you're getting a little carried away there, Shrimp. You've been reading too many books again." Gajeel teased, poking Levy's pouted cheek as he came up from behind. "And Lucy hasn't been gone that long… has she?"

"How suspicious… His beloved is sick and yet he's not with her!" Juvia murmured, appearing creepily behind Gray, making him shudder. "What is he hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything! You guys are looking way too much into this." Natsu lied, but for good reason.

The truth was a little more complicated than that. With Lucy being so unwell, she'd not been able to leave the confines of their house, having suffered greatly in the first months of her pregnancy. It'd been hard for the both of them, but Natsu had promised to look after her—to not leave her side, and he'd kept to his word. Having skipped out on job after job, and taking longer and longer breaks between each visit to the guild, it was only natural for their friends to worry and speculate, but it did put him right in the firing line.

He was wasting time. He had to get back to his partner and son, it wasn't fair to keep them waiting. The guild would get their long awaited answers when Lucy returned, which with any luck, would be very soon.

"Can I go now? I got things to take care of." Natsu huffed, starting to get frustrated with their incessant intrusiveness.

Trying to slip out from under the guilds snooping nose, the fire mage was beginning to question whether that was even an option any more, not with the amount of people now crowding him, wanting in on the action. He just hoped the great Titania didn't decide to intervene, then he'd be doomed.

"What things would that be then, Natsu? You're not usually this secretive." Lisanna hinted again, even more curious than before. "I thought you said you had to go home?"

"Just leave the kid alone, he's got his reasons." Laxus shrugged nonchalantly, pretending not to be interested, when really he'd heard everything.

"Yes, listen to Laxus!" Freed jumped in, also creepily appearing out of no where, making the lightning mage quiver. "Natsu doesn't need you all pestering him!"

Said boy sighed, glad to have someone on side and took the opportunity to make his leave—But things were never going to be that easy. The slayer found himself almost smacking his head against the thick, wooden door frame, utterly exasperated, when yet another of his guild mates decided to pipe up and add their two pennies worth.

"Yes, you're right. However, doesn't he usually have the kid with him? Why not today? So many questions that have yet to be answered. It makes you wonder really…" Evergreen chortled to the dubious guild members, hiding her conniving smirk behind her fan.

This was getting out of hand! They were just going 'round and around in circles and at this rate he would never leave. Being backed into a corner, he had no idea what was really going on. His guild mates were chucking all sorts of nonsensical bullshit at him.

Who knew what they were accusing him of? Because he sure as hell didn't know, and was pretty convinced now that they didn't either.

"I've already said Haru's at home with Lucy… The only reason I'm here, is to check in with Mira to make sure everything's ready for his party later. You know, for his birthday today." He explained once again, sighing loudly and slumping forward in despair. "I wasn't gonna bring him in early and spoil the surprise, now was I?"

He wouldn't have bothered with any of it, if it hadn't been for the take over mage and her desire to throw some massive party for the little boy, such was the way of Fairy Tail. But this time, Natsu would've much preferred to celebrate at home where Lucy could be present to enjoy it, too. However, Mira had made her own plans, having suddenly sprung the idea upon the unknowing young man one day in passing, and had given him little choice in the matter—his ultimatum much scarier than Erza could ever be.

"We're well aware of the little one's birthday celebrations today, Natsu." Erza's stern voice echoed through the hall, startling everyone into silence and swiftly marched herself right up to the slayer's retreating body. His heart raced as his worst fear became reality and felt a wave of dread as she approached at speed, her hardened features coming in way too close for his comfort. "However, that doesn't mean I'm any less suspicious of you."

"But why?! There's nothing to be suspicious about, I swear!" Holding his hands up in submission, the fire mage was stunned into silence; his mouth dropping open in disbelief; why were they all so hell bent on this? What even was this? He'd told them what he could; what more did they want? "Lucy and Haru are at home where I left them… What else do you want me to tell you?"

"So secretive and elusive… like you have something to hide. Have you no shame?" Ignoring Natsu's plea, the armoured girl had already come to her own conclusions and summoned one of her treasured swords to point directly at the slayer, her icy glare not the only thing threatening to pierce through him, "Our Natsu would never act like this! He's impulsive and reckless and just downright stupid! What have you done with the real one?"

The fire mage would've taken offence, had the red head not so angrily directed her sharp sword at the bridge of his nose. Narrowing his eyes at the sharp metal so close to him, he gulped thickly, praying to whatever god there was, that today of all days, Lucy might just walk through those big doors, saving him from the hell that was Erza Scarlet.

He shook in his sandals, showered in sweat as the red heads sword tip made contact with his skin, pushing his head right up against the wall, "B-But I am the real Natsu…"

"Then prove it! Explain yourself, now!" She was taking no shit from her fiery companion, not after convincing herself that he was, indeed, an imposter.

Desperate not to be on the receiving end of Erza's wrath, Natsu opened his mouth to speak, but just as quickly shut it again when the old guild doors suddenly creaked open. The sound of an infants voice followed by bickering between two others could be heard filling the loud silence, abruptly halting the interrogation of the defeated fire breather.

"See, Happy! I told you he'd be in here!" The young woman pointed, her eyes landing right on the dragon boy she'd been arguing with flying cat about, only realising moments later the presence of Erza's sword and every eyeball in the building staring unashamedly at her, "Uh… Am I interrupting something?"

"Lucy... you're here..." Natsu croaked in relief, never more glad to see his beautiful girlfriend as he sank to the floor. His voice cracking from the genuine fear the older girl had provoked in him, her sword now fully removed from his face. "My sweet saviour…"

"Uh-oh! Is Natsu in trouble again?" Happy giggled, glancing over at his pink haired friend, taking pity on his horror-stricken features.

"Lucy… You're alive?" Erza stated more than asked, stomping over to the young blonde to inspect her further.

"U-Uh…" The girl in question looked down at herself, confirming that she was definitely alive before looking back up again, confusion etched into her expression. "D-Do you want me to answer that?"

"Maybe you should lay off her a little; I'm sure Lucy's had it rough enough." Gray proclaimed bravely, unable to make eye contact with the unsettled knight.

"Please don't scare her off, not when she's only just returned!" Levy all but pushed Erza out of the way and threw herself at the blonde, who was now trying to balance the new weight along with the baby and herself. "I'm so happy to see you! I've missed you, Lu!"

"I've missed you too, Levy, but I'm sure Natsu's kept you updated." Lucy reassured her, then looked up to all of her other friends, "Hasn't he?"

"Natsu told us you hadn't been feeling well, but that's a suspiciously long illness Lucy, one I hope has a good explanation for making us all worry so much." Erza explained, crossing her arms over her chest.

"That's one long tummy bug!" Mira giggled, walking over to the ever growing group to stand near Lucy. "Anyone would think that you were p-" She paused, eyes growing wide with realisation and darted them down to the stellar mages midriff, before promptly fainting on the spot.

"Huh? Mira! Would think, what?! What were you going to say?!" Lisanna yelled, desperately trying to wake her sister up.

"Oh! I get it!" Gray understood, thinking back to the weird conversation he'd had with Natsu in the park and how it all made perfect sense now. "It definitely explains that idiots weird behaviour." He reached out to pat Lucy on the shoulder affectionately and smiled at her, then turned to smirk at said fire mage still recoiling on the ground. "So that's the way you wanna play? Game on, Pyro!"

Turning his head, Natsu smirked back, accepting the silent challenge as he jumped back up to his feet, looking cocky as ever, "You know it, Frosty!"

"Wait, what does Gray know? Is he a part of it too?" Levy gasped, pointing her accusatory finger at the demon slayer.

"Hell no!" Natsu and Gray yelled out in defence, both offended and totally disgusted by the very thought.

"Then what? What is going on here?" Cana shouted from her bench, having heard everything. "Quit with the suspense and just be out with it already!"

"Juvia understands." Out of the shadows, said water mage appeared before her once 'love rival' and smiled happily at the girl she was about to congratulate, "Juvia is so very happy for you both!" She looked down to her own rounded tummy and placed a hand on it, a noticeable difference in size to Lucy's, "They will be the best of friends, Juvia is sure of it."

Lucy's smile reached the corners of her eyes, relieved the rain woman didn't see this as another rivalry, like their partners apparently did, "Thanks Juvia, I'm sure they will be, despite what their father's might think." They both giggled at the expense of the boys gormlessly standing there, along with the rest of the guild, who still had no idea.

"Hold up! So, what does that mean? You're having a baby too, Lucy?" Lisanna asked, cradling her sisters limp body.

The guild's eyes fell to Lucy, more specifically her stomach where if they looked closely, they would see a small, but noticeable bump stretching out her pink summer dress. She could see the expectant faces of her friends waiting for her to answer, and the warm presence of her beloved dragon slayer come to stand next to her, obviously noticing her hesitancy.

"Natsu, I think you should tell them, I know you're dying to." She murmured, her voice quiet but firm.

"Are ya sure, Luce?" He asked, assuming she'd want to do it after all this time, but seeing the certainty in her eyes and the bright smile lifting her cheeks, he took her hand and turned back to the crowd, not needing any more confirmation than that. He glanced at each person in turn, a sense of pride filling his chest as the words left his mouth, "Heck yeah, we are!"

The entire guild erupted in a chorus of whistles and loud cheers, shaking the very foundations of the building in their excitement for the couple, "Oh, wow! Thanks guys! You're too kind!" Lucy's smile shone brighter than it had done in ages, overwhelmed with glee that their guild mates were so pleased for them.

"They've all been worried about ya, Luce." Natsu whispered closely so only she could hear and leaned in to kiss her cheek, knowing just how much this all meant to her. He took the excitable little guy off her hands, giving her the freedom to catch up with everybody.

"I knew it! I knew there was something fishy about you two! But congratulations guys, that's great news!" Levy cheered, ready to get down to the nitty gritty of every dirty detail.

"You had us worried there, Lucy. For a while, I thought you were never coming back!" Lisanna shared, hugging the celestial mage tightly, probably a little too tight.

"Oh… I'm sorry to have made you all worry, but I'm feeling much better now." The blonde explained, a light tint of pink dusting her cheeks from all the attention she was getting.

She could see Natsu hadn't moved too far away from her and tilted her head to look at him. Chuckling to herself, she could hear Erza try to apologise to him, suggesting the boy punch her right in the face for making such a mistake, a suggestion that was right up his alley, if it weren't for Haru in his arms.

Catching his beautiful blonde staring at him through the corner of his eye, he turned in her direction and winked, grinning as he held the little boy up on his shoulders to walk back over to her, "You feeling alright, Luce?" He asked, worried she may have forced herself into attending the celebrations before she was ready.

She nodded shyly, a little taken aback by the overwhelming attention she was receiving. Feeling his hand once again take hold of hers, she stared up into his confident eyes, then up to the child having the time of his life on his fathers shoulders, "I'm okay, but today's about Haru, not me, and I wasn't gonna miss this for the world." She grinned up at the small boy and reached up to stroke his cheek affectionately, chuckling at his enormous smile.

"You're right! Come on, Lucy! I wanna show you what we've done!" Natsu all but dragged the poor girl outside, Haru and Happy in tow, to show her the sheer amount of effort that had gone in to making Haru's first birthday, special.

The entire guilds courtyard had been lit up like a Christmas tree, with nothing left untouched. Banners and bunting of every colour hung from every post, table and tree. Tables upon tables of delicious food had been laid out with the most gargantuan home made birthday cake (courtesy of Mira) proudly sat in the middle of it all. An enormous pile of gifts had also been laid out, all individually wrapped with little cards to say whom they were from and most importantly, the pool had been filled with all kinds of fun inflatables and toys for all the children to play with.

Lucy looked around in amazement. She couldn't believe they'd gone to so much effort just for a one year old, a child that would unfortunately never remember this, but it didn't matter, she and Natsu would for him. "This is incredible, Natsu! I can't believe you did all this without me!"

"Don't sound too surprised; I can help organise things when I want to. And it wasn't all me, Mira came up with the idea." He looked up to the child above him and chuckled, "You like it, Haru?" The child had no idea what was going on, with no concept of birthdays or parties, he simply cheered anyway, responding to his Daddy's infectious grin, "Good! Well then Luce, let's get this party started!"

With his grin turning evil, he squeezed her hand tight and dived head first into the pool, with no consideration for his, Lucy's or Haru's clothing. She yelped at the top of her voice, her only reply a cackle before being submerged under water, thus setting the mood for the rest of the day.

After a full afternoon of playing with the other children, eating lots of cake and other treats, and opening presents, Haru found himself in the pool once again, this time in more appropriate attire for the water. A pair of cute little lion themed trunks (gifted by Loke), and a cute turtle inflatable ring adorning his middle (a present from Lisanna), made it much easier for him to stay above the surface while enjoying a swim in the water.

Natsu, in his usual flamed swim shorts, also found himself in the pool, diving under and popping back up in random places to surprise the little boy. Haru loved a good game of peek-a-boo, the anticipation of where his Daddy was going to pop up next was just too exhilarating. He squealed and laughed every time he resurfaced, then his eyes would grow wide in anticipation when he dived back down again.

"Gotcha!" Natsu exclaimed, appearing behind the little guy and grabbing his sides. "Does Haru want a go?" He asked, lifting him out of the rubber ring and holding him above the surface with just his hands, letting the infant tread the water to keep himself up, "Look at you! You'll be swimming in no time!"

Lucy watched on from her sun lounger, not remotely amused that the slayer had got her cute dress soaked, or that she now had to lay in just her pastel blue bikini, feeling somewhat self conscious with everyone staring at her exposed belly. She laid comfortably basking in the hot sunlight kissing her skin, trying to catch some semblance of a tan, relaxing while she could. She felt happy, content even, thankful that her symptoms had calmed down just in time for Haru's big day.

It'd been a long time since she'd been able to do this without having to run to the bathroom. With no spell or potion being strong enough to truly rid her of the awful feeling, she'd become well acquainted with the toilet in their house, having spent most of her time with her nose down it. It'd been hard over the last few months adapting to her changing body, her wild mood swings and questionable cravings, but she also knew it would be worth it in the end and it was on days like this, with her friends and loved ones surrounding her that she sincerely felt it.

Smiling to herself, Lucy placed her hand on her small, protruding stomach, feeling the tiny flutterings of the little one moving around inside, "You're an active little one today." She giggled, looking to be talking to herself by onlookers, but she didn't mind. "Then again, you're active everyday."

"Juvia's baby is quite active too, but he's closer to his due date than yours and is much bigger." Juvia said, coming to sit on the next lounger. She cradled her own, much larger bump that'd been covered by a flowy, light green summer dress, finding her regular clothes to form fitting and hot to wear now. "It's quite the feeling when he does somersaults in Juvia's belly."

"He? You're having a boy?" Lucy asked, intrigued to learn more and catch up with her friend.

"Yes, Porlyusica told us the last time we visited. Juvia always imagined she'd have a little boy, maybe watching Haru has something to do with that." She gleamed, looking over to the small fella splashing about in the pool still, having the time of his life with his father.

"I'm so pleased for you! I bet Gray was thrilled!" The blonde exclaimed, knowing he would be.

"Of course! Gray was very pleased. In fact, he made us go out and buy all the boys clothes we could find in the market afterwards. Then he took Juvia home and made-"

"No, it's okay… I don't think I need to know any more!" Lucy felt her cheeks burn red at the very thought.

"Made Juvia dinner…" The water mage finished, furrowing her brows at Lucy's assumption.

"O-Oh… Oops! Sorry Juvia, I thought you were going to say that you guys-"

"Made love? I think those hormones are getting the better of you, Lucy." Cana appeared, wagging her imaginary tail at the slightest mention of sex. "They say you get more horny when you're pregnant. I bet you and Natsu are at it all of the time? Actually, I'm kinda surprised he's not over here right now, with you looking all juicy like that!"

"Cana!" Lucy spluttered, her cheeks burning even more furiously. "You can't say things like that in public!" She didn't want to discuss her sex life in front of others, even if what they were saying was true—when she wasn't heaving of course.

"She's right though, Lucy. Juvia hasn't been unable to keep her hands off of Gray." The blue haired girl reaffirmed, her eyes like love hearts as she thought of her beloved Gray. "And Gray hasn't been able to keep his hands off Juvia, either."

"Wow, looking kinda smug there… You were like that any way…" Cana murmured, shaking her head at the love struck girl.

Well, there went Lucy's relaxing in silence, now she could barely keep from her head exploding—Good ol' Cana! "I don't wanna hear any more!" The celestial mage reiterated, covering her ears for emphasis.

"Oh, come on, Lucy! You're pregnant! That didn't happen by accident! You and Natsu knew exactly what you were doing." Cana retorted, moving herself closer to the flustered girl, her boozy breath permeating the air.

"U-Uh… Well… No, actually. It was kind of an accident…" Lucy admitted, feeling a little awkward by saying that out loud, her friends surprised faces not helping matters, "But it was a good accident!"

"Huh… And here I was thinking you were the cautious type, Lucy… Not that it matters. It's good to let the mood just take ya." Cana grinned, her shock forgotten.

"Don't look so ashamed Lucy, you'll both have another sweet baby to call your own and that's a wonderful thing. I imagine Natsu was over the moon when you both found out." Mira beamed her usual motherly smile as she came to sit near them all, having wanted to get the details on Lucy's pregnancy since earlier, "If Juvia's is a boy, then I bet yours is going to be a girl, Lucy."

"You think so?" The blonde asked back, never having actually considered what the sex would be before, but the thought of having a little girl join the family sounded rather appealing, especially in a house dominated by boys.

"Yes, with Haru as well, we need a little girl to make it more even. And she's gonna have the cutest pink hair and big brown eyes, I can just see it now!" Mira was off in a little world of her own, thinking of blue haired baby boys and pink haired baby girls—she was incorrigible.

"Boy or girl, I just hope that after living in a house full of ravenous beasts, this little one might be more like me. Haru's just a dark haired Natsu, he even laughs like him." Lucy placed her hand where she could feel the little movements of her baby and chuckled down, "But who am I kidding? You've already got your father's energy, that's for sure."

"Hey! Don't say that like it's a bad thing, Luce!" Natsu overheard as he appeared out of no where. "There's nothing wrong with having a mini-me, ain't that right, kid?" He hi-fived the now dry child in his arms, having already dried himself using his magic. "Who cares what they are or who they look like? You'll be in there somewhere, Luce; you're their mother, after all."

"Yeah, you're right." She said, always fascinated by Natsu's simplistic, yet logical way of thinking.

"Any way, it's getting kinda late, I was gonna take Haru somewhere a bit more quiet," Natsu gestured to the current brawl taking place behind him.

"Leaving so soon?" Mira asked, standing to say goodbye to the grizzly birthday boy.

"Yeah, he's all pooped out from the busy day he's had and I think he's ready to go to sleep now. Thanks for organising it, Mira!" He said, before turning swiftly to Lucy, "You coming?"

The bikini clad girl jumped to her feet and stretched her arms up, feeling the tiredness begin to set in, completely unaware of her partners roaming gaze, "Yeah, sure... Just let me put my dress-"

"Lucy! Watch out!" She heard Natsu shout suddenly as she bent to grab the item of clothing.

Feeling herself being pushed back onto the sun lounger, she flailed and reached her arms out to catch herself. Darting her eyes up to see what was going on, she was met with the exposed back of the dragon slayer that had moved to shield her from something. Smoke clouded him and the infant; an unfamiliar heat emanated off of his body. The girl hadn't seen what'd happened, or what she'd been saved from, but if the harsh, heavy breathing of the man in front of her was anything to go by, it was a close call.

"Natsu…" She started, but stalled there after, unsure of what more to say to him.

"What the heck do you think you're doing, you old geezer! Do you have any idea what could've happened just then?!" Natsu bellowed, his voice teeming with rage as his eyes narrowed at the culprit. "You're lucky I was here to catch your stupid attack, or that would've gone straight for Lucy!"

The brawl had come to a complete stand still and Macao, the one that'd thrown a fire ball initially at Wakaba, had gone ghostly pale as the dragon slayer's piercing gaze stared him down. "Hey man, I'm sorry… I didn't even know she was there, it was an accident!" He held his hands up in submission, not wanting to enter into a fight with the maddened slayer, knowing that was one he'd never win. "We got a little carried away, that's all."

"Oh yeah? Maybe I should go all out and see how you like it? Try and dodge this one!" Natsu roared, sending a blazing ball of fury of his own hurtling through the air, aiming it right at Macao's cowering body. Turning hotfooted back to Lucy, the distant cries of the offender being struck by his magic was like music to his ears, his anger satiated.

"Are you hurt, Luce? Did anything hit you?" He did a full search of her body, checking for any kind of injury. His worried eyes eventually fell upon her exposed belly and instinctually brought his hand out to caress it softly, "Is the baby okay?"

Smiling up at him, she brought her own hand to rest on his cheek and pulled him closer, loving just how protective he could be, "Of course, our baby's fine. No need to worry." She guided his palm to where the little one was doing somersaults and allowed him to feel the light pads against his skin.

Unable to keep his infectious grin down for long, he pushed his mouth hastily against Lucy's in a kiss that turned heated all too quickly. Buzzing with adrenaline from the incident, Natsu moved his hand from her belly and tangled his fingers into her hair, holding her in place as he enjoyed the taste of her warm lips.

"That's it, fire breath, you took it too far this time!" He heard Gray shout from behind him, knocking him out of his 'Lucy' trance and pull away, glancing over his shoulder, "Look at what you've done to the pool, you dumbass!" The ice mage pointed to the steaming pit that was once the guilds pool, fuming at the state of it.

"Ha! Looks like you and Juvia are gonna have a fun time filling that back up!" Natsu guffawed, passing the fidgety Haru to Lucy.

"Screw you, Pinky! You're going down!" Gray threatened, launching himself at the fire wizard and starting yet another brawl.

Rolling her eyes, Lucy looked down at the sleepy boy rubbing his tired eyes, and decided to creep away from the fight that just seemed to be attracting more and more people, "Come on then, sweetheart. It looks like Daddy's got himself distracted again." She chuckled, disappearing back inside before anyone had noticed she was gone.

By the time the evening swept in, Lucy had found herself a quiet spot up on a small hill a little ways from the guild, overlooking the lake behind it. She sat cosily against one of the many old oak trees, with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and the baby laid across her chest, begrudgingly, but slowly falling asleep. She hummed her sweet lullaby to soothe her tuckered out child, hoping to coax him into closing his eyes.

It was moments like this that she cherished the most with Haru, just her and him with no one to interrupt. The atmosphere was peaceful and calm, exactly what she was looking for compared to the ruckus that was the guild's 'after' party that continued on down the street. She could even hear the rumble of their antics from where she sat, but luckily, it was pretty muffled, unable to spoil her quietude.

After weeks of staying at home, it sure made a pleasant change to be watching the sunset instead. She'd grown tired and achy after such a busy day, her feet were sore and her head had grown weary, but still she watched contented as the beautiful evening began to fade.

The young mother could finally hear the soft, even breaths of the slumbering child and gently placed him upon her bent up legs, covering him with her blanket to keep him from feeling the chill in the air. Staring at his little angelic features, she found it hard to fathom how drastically her life had changed compared to just twelve months before. She'd grown so much as a person and gained everything she'd ever wanted and more, making new memories along the way.

She and Natsu had unknowingly plunged themselves into a completely new world, taking on the responsibility of an abandoned child and calling him their own. Haru had opened their eyes to a life they never thought they'd get to experience, especially not with each other. The little boy had brought them together in a way that would forever bind them, creating the family unit they were today. It only seemed fitting to name this day as Haru's official birthday, for it was the day his life, and theirs, had begun anew.

Leaning her head back against the tree, becoming lost in her memories, her eyelids began to close, a wave of exhaustion rushing over her while sleep tempted her in. A rustle of a nearby bush was quick to quash that feeling though, as a startled Lucy snapped her eyes wide open and darted her head over to where the sound had come from.

"Oh, Natsu… It's just you…" She breathed, laying her bleary eyes onto that familiar toothy grin and untameable pink hair, a scaly, white scarf to match. "Tell me, what were you doing hiding in the bushes?"

"Looking for you." He said simply, walking out onto the hillside to join her, having deliberately left out the part that he'd been hiding there for much longer than he'd care to admit. In fact, one might say he'd been there the entire time, watching the beauty that was Lucy quietly sing their son to sleep and hadn't wanted to disturb her until she'd finished. "You left, so I had to come find ya."

"Oh, you didn't have to. I just wanted to settle Haru before he started getting grumpy. It's nice and quiet out here." Her voice sounded airy and light, her eyes half lidded and a little bloodshot. "You can go back and join the others if you want, I'm okay." She offered, but Natsu knew better than that, he always did.

"You don't have to pretend for me, Lucy. I can see how tired you are." He'd learnt pretty quickly in the past few months that pregnancy didn't just make her exceptionally sick, but that it had an array of different symptoms, some physical and others emotional, but all unpleasant and incredibly draining for her. "Why would I leave any way, you're all out here?"

"Happy's not."

"Yeah, and Happy's capable of looking after himself. He's too interested in Carla to notice we're even gone. You know what he's like." Natsu explained, scooting closer to Lucy to take the infant from her legs.

He set the baby down in his lap to keep him warm, the fluffy blanket tightly swaddling his body. The two mages cuddled up to one another, watching the twinkling stars come out to glimmer and shine down onto the glistening water in the distance.

"It's crazy to think it's been an entire year since we brought him home. Who knows where we'd be without him here?" Lucy reminisced, her gaze drifting from the moonlit lake, to the baby snoring peacefully without a single care in the world. "Or where his life might've gone, if we hadn't taken him in."

"We'd be what we always were," Natsu stated bluntly, tearing his own gaze away to look at the girl beside him, "Best friends, going on adventures and honestly, that's kinda the sad truth of it all. As for Haru…" He glanced down at his cuddled up son, smiling sadly as he remembered the first time he ever set eyes on the tiny, lifeless baby, that fateful day, "I made a promise to keep him safe; to make sure he lived… He was always going to come with me, there was never another choice. I just didn't know it then."

"And I'll be forever grateful that he did, because..." Lucy cleared her throat, feeling a little emotional at the thought, "Now, I have you and him! And nothing has ever made me happier! Choosing to adopt a child was the most daunting thing I've ever done, but it's proven to be the best decision I've ever made, one I'll always be thankful for." She gave her own toothy smile, a slight tint of pink dusting her cheeks as she poured her heart out to him.

Natsu felt his heart squeeze tight, her words reminiscent of his own feelings and quirked his lips up at her. Reaching his hand forward, he smoothed his fingers through her golden locks, before coming to rest it under her ear, guiding her to him, "Me too, Luce. Which is why…"

Lucy's breathing deepened the closer she got and felt his other hand come up to hold hers tenderly, paying no mind to him fiddling with her fingers, "Which is why, what? Is there something else?" She asked, cocking her head cutely as their breaths began to mingle. "Natsu?" Her eyes fluttered between his dark ones, waiting expectantly for him to finish.

"I… I wanna ask you something." He murmured just before claiming her mouth, connecting their lips in a kiss so sickly sweet, it made Lucy's belly fill with butterflies.

She could have melted into a puddle right then and there, the feel of his affections always had a way of making her turn to goo in his hands. Her spine shivered and the adrenaline buzzed through her system, not having the capacity to comprehend the words that'd been spoken, for her mind had been taken over by the feel of his hot mouth. Letting go of her hand, he snaked his fingers up to the other side of her neck and pulled her closer, craving those sweet cherry lips that he liked to nip at with his teeth.

Her fingers were now free to roam and touch as they pleased, tangling them up through his hair and tugging on the pink strands at the base of his neck. Desperate for breath, she pulled herself away and gazed into his half lidded eyes for mere seconds, before he impatiently delve down to ravish her neck. The sucking and biting just under her ear caused small gasps and whimpers to escape the increasingly aroused celestial mage, her eyes fogging with lust, until something bright caught her attention.

"What was that?" She asked panting, her voice raspy as she tried to catch sight of whatever it was again. It had flickered like a light, shined like a reflection and sparkled all at once, making her wonder if she'd really seen anything at all.

"What was what, Lucy?" He asked her, not meaning to sound quite so unsurprised, when usually he was the first to go looking for trouble.

"I thought I saw…" She didn't really know what she'd seen, her mind too muddled from the heated moment they were having; maybe it was just her eyes playing tricks? Or worse… someone was spying on them.

Natsu clasped at the hand she had buried in his hair and brought it into view, "Was it this, maybe?" He asked, drawing attention to one specific digit.

Feeling the contrast between his warm skin and the cold hardness of something else against her finger, Lucy peered down in curiosity, her breath stalling when her eyes laid upon the object of confusion. Gasping loudly, she clasped at her mouth, two enlarged chocolate orbs flickered between him and her hand in utter astonishment. Somehow, in the midst of their make out session, Natsu had managed to band the most simplistic, yet beautiful ring onto her finger, where it sat proudly and spoke of untold intentions.

"It's… I-It's beautiful! B-But how did you- When-" She stuttered, too lost in what this all might mean, searching deep within his dark eyes for the answers to her silent, but obvious questions.

"That's the right finger, isn't it?" He asked, looking uncharacteristically nervous, a small pink hue dabbing his cheeks. His heart was beating much quicker than he would've liked, hoping he hadn't screwed up already.

That was all she needed to hear to confirm her suspicions, her brown eyes wet with unshed tears, "N-Natsu, I… I don't know what to say-" She couldn't speak, this was too much and he'd not said anything yet.

"Lucy…" He spoke with every sincerity, taking the ringed hand and entwined their fingers. "I'm not so good with this stuff, but I know that getting married is important to you, which makes it important to me, too. I promised you forever and I guess you could say, this is me making good on that promise." He caressed her soft cheek with his thumb and smiled when he saw the glint in her eyes shine back at him. "So, what do you say? Prepared to commit yourself to this," he gestured to himself and winked playfully, "For the rest of your life?"

Finding herself unable to keep her emotions in check, the girl didn't answer, but instead, launched herself at him, giving him barely any time to move the slumbering child out of the way and brace for impact. Landing on top of the winded dragon slayer, she managed to catch herself with her hands and gleamed down at him, tears falling from her eyes and the smile on her face rivalling his. She leant down and connected their lips once again, taking the lead this time, unable to keep her happiness from pouring out.

To the side, still held in Natsu's opened out arm, was Haru, completely unaware of what was going down, his dreams taking him to far off places. His developing sibling in his Mommy's tummy, however, didn't seem quite so pleased, having been wedged between the two loved up adults as they made out under the sea of stars, had decided to take matters into their own hands. With one almighty kick, the kiss came to a quick halt when Lucy groaned and pulled back, grabbing hold of her bump to sooth the sore area.

"Jeez! Was that the baby kicking you? 'Cause even I felt that one!" Natsu looked surprised, amazed that their baby was so strong, at just five months, that he'd been able to feel the force of the kick against his own abdomen. "Is it still hurting, Luce? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, it just shocked me, that's all. They've never been quite that strong before." She chuckled, sitting herself up and straddling his hips as she looked down to her belly, gently caressing it with her thumb, "You were just trying to tell Mommy to move, weren't you?"

Balancing himself up onto his elbow, Natsu also placed his hand on top of Lucy's bump and smirked, "Or maybe, they were just tryin' to get their Mommy to say yes."

"Like you needed an answer!" Quirking her eyebrow up at his smirk, she shifted back a little as he sat himself up against the tree, laying Haru gently next to them while Lucy remained in place, "But you haven't actually asked me anything yet. Who knows what I could be agreeing to? This is you, after all."

The young man chuckled and grinned his thousand watt smile, knowing she'd catch him out eventually, "Alright, have it your way." The mischievous look on his face didn't disappear, even when he tried to take it seriously, "Will you marry me, Lucy?"

She returned his beaming smile with one of her own, glad to have heard it come from his mouth and nodded her head enthusiastically, "Of course, Natsu, the answer was always a yes."

"Good. Can I go back to kissing you now?" He asked, but didn't bother waiting for a reply and went to pull that enticing mouth back in for a third kiss, hoping this time there'd be no more interruptions in the forms of sparkling rings or unimpressed unborn babies.

But just as their lips were about to touch, Lucy paused ever so tantalisingly close to him and furrowed her brows, causing the boy to sigh impatiently, "What is it now?"

"Have you been holding on to that ring all day?" She enquired, only realising now that he must've got it from somewhere.

"Nah, not all day, just the party. I had to ask Happy to go and get it for me while you were distracted with Haru." Natsu explained, scratching the back of his head, "I was gonna do it myself, but stuff happened and then you suddenly showed up."

"Stuff… happened?" Now she was even more curious; what could've gone on in her absence?

"Yeah… them." He shivered still traumatised, pointing over to where Fairy Tail's guild hall stood, still alive and partying, and Lucy understood immediately just what he was referring to, giving her an insight into what she'd unsuspectingly walked in on earlier that day. "So, I had to change up my plans."

"Oh! Why didn't you just do it tomorrow instead? Rather than make it difficult for yourself." She asked, feeling a little smug when she saw the light go on in his brain.

She'd stumped him there. Always the brains of the operation, he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of that. He'd wanted to do it on a day that meant something to the both of them, but really, did it matter? The result would've been the same.

Noticing her cocky smirk and the playfulness in her eyes, he rose to the challenge, a fire in his belly, "Because, Miss Know-it-all, today was special, just like you said… And it wasn't difficult… I had it all under control…"

"Uh-huh…" She watched him become a little fidgety as if he weren't quite telling the truth and her smirk widened into a smug, toothy grin, "So you were just pretending to be scared when Erza was threatening you? I get it."

His eyes were sharp and intense, just like they were in battle, the one sided grin to boot as he bore into her playful expression, "Your playing with fire, Lucy…" His voice dangerous and brimming with cockiness.

"Then let it burn." She whispered close to his ear, barely able to get the words out before she found herself being forced onto her back, her hands held down above her head, with a fired up dragon slayer carefully leant over her form.

"You asked for it!" He growled, gulping down a large breath as he connected his mouth to the sensitive skin of her neck, torturing her senses with his loving but fierce embrace.