#mia asking if there are any ghosts around every time they walk down the street

[grinchwrapsupreme]

I think what might have been better (for me) would be if they hadn't skipped ahead quite so far in the last scene and instead Alison and Mike were returning only a few years later with Mia. Still the "usual room" and still all the old decor kept around the building, but Alison walks into the room holding Mia's hand and "introduces" her to the ghosts, the idea being that she's old enough now even if she can't see them to know they're there, to know that Alison not only gives the ghosts that allowance in her life on her own terms but also perhaps that she can tell Mia stories about the funny dead people who became her family

[browniefox]

The One with the Motorcycle

@wrightfamilyweek day 4 - Free day! Which I took to mean 'shove my headcanon here'. At first I wanted to do something with Ryuunosuke, but I still haven't finished tgaa so uhhhh sorry my boy. Also, you can find this on AO3 here.

In which Trucy and Phoenix decide they need to find a more reliable method of getting around. Luckily, Phoenix already has a vehicle registered under his name.

oOo

“Does this mean that when I turn sixteen, I’ll get a motorcycle license?”

Trucy skips alongside her Daddy as they walk through the aisles of the storage facility. They pass locked garage after garage. Trucy has always known that her Daddy had somewhere he stores a bunch of stuff that doesn’t fit in the office, the stuff he used to keep in his apartment back when he had one, but this is her first time coming along with him.

There’s been a lot leading up to this. Now that Trucy’s getting a little older, there’s more things she wants to do, or go to, and Daddy seems to be getting a little busier too. He’s started going down to the library more often, and having some kind of meetings for lunch, and getting calls by people Trucy doesn’t know. They’re both getting busy, and buses and taxis only get them so far. Daddy had declared, in an almost resigned-sounding voice after they missed a bus and had to wait underneath the bus stop in the pouring rain for another thirty minutes, that perhaps it was time to find a more reliable method to get around.

“Dessie says she’s running a little late, but she’ll be here soon.” Trucy is in charge of the phone while Daddy frets over the pieces of paper in his hands, crinkling the edges up in his nervous hands.

Daddy doesn’t reply to this either, just keeps walking forward. Trucy frowns to herself. Daddy’s been kind of weird about this whole thing. From getting the Learner’s Permit, to the practice drives and lessons with Desiree, to his final test, but now if anything he seems at his most awkward and strange as they approach the storage unit.

They final come to a stop, and Daddy pulls up the metal door.

If old case files in the office were little glimpses into who Daddy was before Trucy knew him, this place was an in-color photograph.

There’s cardboard boxes with ‘sketchbooks’ scrawled on the front. There’s a dead plant in the corner. There’s a stack of picture frames, an old couch shoved into a corner, and a small wood table with rings from the ghosts of old drinks, a few splashes of paint marring the surface. There’s some art supplies shoved off in a corner that Trucy immediately goes over to, and piles of books Trucy hasn’t read before, and Trucy wants nothing more than to stay here all day and look through everything and anything in sight.

In the middle of the storage unit, however, is what they’ve come here for.

It’s a lilac-colored motorcycle. There’s an unhealthy-layer of dust on it - there’s a layer of dust on everything in the room - and Daddy brushes his hand over the seat and handles, sending a plume of the dust into the air. He starts sneezing and coughing over it and Trucy laughs a little at that. She stops in a moment, though, because of the almost-grim look on Daddy’s face as he stares at the bike.

They’ve been building up to this for months, in reality. Trucy realizes this now, that everything up to this point has been to get this motorcycle out of the garage and back onto the streets, because it was a vehicle Daddy already owns, and he wouldn’t have to go through the hassle nor money involved in getting a new one. But it’s also all conflicted with Daddy’s attempts to distance himself from the past.

Daddy wants to move forward in life, she gets that, but it makes Trucy sad anyway to see how nervous and resigned he’d looked about so much as calling the Delites for help. Like doing that much is losing something.

“So this is Aunt Mia’s bike?” Trucy asks, going over to it as well. She doesn’t know anything about things like this, but it looks like it’s in okay condition. It’s certainly not as shiny as Desiree’s, but it’s not bad.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. Sorry I haven’t by.” He says, and she can tell he’s not talking to her. His eyes are fixed on the bike like sometimes he’ll stare at Charley for what seems like hours on end; it’s never for that long, but it feels like it might be at times. He tilts her head to Trucy and explains, “I used to come by and try to keep it clean and stuff, but things have gotten… complicated. I’m sure Mia’s upset I haven’t done more to maintain this since she’s been gone.”

Ah, it’s one of the days where he’s talking about Aunt Mia in the present tense. It’s hard to tell if that’s ever a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe it’s just A Thing he does sometimes. Even after four years, there’s still so much Trucy hasn’t figured out about her daddy. Sometimes, he talks about Aunt Mia as the dead person she is, gone and out of this world, a deceased but loved person, just like Trucy’s mommy was talked about. Other days, though, it’s like he expects Aunt Mia to walk through the door any minute.

“Alright, well, let’s see what we can do before Desiree gets here.”

Daddy’s temporary license, the edges of which are almost torn up by his worrying hands, is set aside on top of the sketchbook box and he grabs a towel from one of the other boxes, setting to work on a more thorough dusting. Trucy searches through Daddy’s phone for the list of what to check for that Desiree had texted him and passes it over to Daddy.

Trucy picks a stool out from the mess of things and rifles through the sketchbook box, finding one and flipping through it. There’s mostly little doodles and the like on the pages, or realistic portraits of faces Trucy doesn’t recognize. She wonders if, were Daddy not so determined to distance himself from the past, she’d know any of them. There is a picture of Miles, and she knows him, so she smiles at that picture and lightly brushes her hand over the pencil markings. Miles looks really angry in the picture, and scribbled right next to him is ‘I’ll save you’.

And Daddy did.

“Alright, let’s see what we have to work with today!”

Desiree announces herself, carrying her own box of tools

“Thought you might not show up for a moment.” Daddy jokes, but it’s one of his hollow-sounding jokes. Desiree laughs anyway.

“Oh please, I’ve been waiting to get a look at this beast for myself ever since you told me about it!” Desiree says and starts going over the bike. She talks about oil and gas and spark plugs and batteries, looking over everything and digging through her stuff and checking things. She says they’re going to need a new battery, and definitely replace just about all of the fluids. Luckily, Desiree is well-capable of doing all of that, she assures them, and they’d be able to get it up and moving enough to get it to her shop where she could do some of the rougher things to do.

“How much do I owe you?” Daddy asks, and Desiree waves her hand.

“We can discuss that later, let’s focus on getting this beauty out of this dusty-old place and back here she belongs, huh?”

Desiree has said that every time, so far, that Daddy asks about price. Trucy can see that it means Desiree doesn’t really want to make Daddy pay for any of it, but it seems to put Daddy more and more on edge every time Desiree says it. He’s waiting for something bad to happen, and his tension over it bleeds into Trucy, even though she’s not worried. Desiree is a nice lady who likes to chat to Trucy and can talk a mile a minute about motorcycles. When she’s not talking about them, she’s talking about her husband, Ron

They walk the bike out of the storage facility, Desiree filling the space with chatter about what the make and model of Aunt Mia’s motorcycle is, and the pluses and minuses of it, and how it’s lucky that it already has a backseat for Trucy. Daddy says that he used to ride with Aunt Mia sometimes, eyes trained on the bike still, as if he expected it to fall apart at a moment’s notice.

Desiree’s red-hot bike is parked out front and she tells them to meet her at her shop. She’ll be able to finish up there, where the rest of her supplies is.

“Don’t worry, she should be able to get you there just fine. And anyway, you can tell me if anything starts sounding worrying!” Desiree says as she climbs onto her bike. It’s been what Daddy has been practicing on, what Daddy even passed his driving test on just yesterday, and the rumble of it had just started to become familiar. Trucy feels like she’s going to miss it, but she’s excited to see how Aunt Mia’s bike works out.

Desiree peels out and leaves Daddy and Trucy standing on the side of the road, Daddy regarding Aunt Mia’s bike like it’s a python that’s going to bite them.

“... maybe this was a bad idea.” Daddy says five months too late.

“You worry too much! C’mon, Dessie’s waiting for us!” Trucy hops next to him, excited to get on the bike. Daddy sighs, turning his helmet over and over in his hands. Trucy has her own, bought a couple months ago, but she hasn’t been allowed on a bike yet. ‘Not until I get my official license’, Daddy had insisted. Now is the time, though.

“But what if something happens? What if I crash, and you get hurt?” He says. Trucy feels a ripple of shock run through her and she looks at Daddy’s face. His expression is grim and an open wound of his emotion. Of worry and fear, “What if I crash and I ruin her bike? What if-”

“Daddy, you’re being dumb” Trucy informs him. Daddy looks at her, and she can already see him starting to close off again, but she steals the last few moments of honesty she can, desperately, “Daddy you can do this, okay? We’re going to be okay. Even if we have to go five miles an hour to get there.”

“I think I’m actually worse at driving slow.” Daddy grumbles. Trucy grabs his hands.

“Then we’ll go really fast. We aren’t giving up on this just because you’re scared.”

Daddy sighs and then ruffles her hair.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It’d be stupid to give up right now. It doesn’t matter how long it’s going to take.”

They put their helmets on and climb onto the bike. They both hold their breaths when the engine first starts, and then it roars to life. It’s different than Desiree’s although exactly how, Trucy isn’t sure. She wraps her arms around her daddy’s stomach as they get going, keeping her eyes open. She isn’t scared, she can’t be. She needs to seem sure and trusting over this, for his sake, for their sake, so that they can make it through here together.

Things don’t change a lot with Daddy. They’ve lived in the same place for all this time, and Daddy’s worked at the same bar, and Trucy’s worked at the same bar, and they have the same routines day to week to month to year. This is new, this is change, but it’s a good thing.

They roar down the streets for the first time, Daddy is shaking, Trucy can feel it with how tightly she’s holding onto him. The air roars past them, chillingly-cold.

He did this for me, Trucy thinks, and then, no, he did this for us. For family, so that we can keep moving forwards .

If they had stood still, they would’ve been alright with buses and taxis and rides from friends. But they are moving forward in life, they need the ability to do more, be more independent, further their own things.

And help, here they had help, from Desiree, and from the thoughtfulness of Aunt Mia to leave Phoenix to her bike, and Ron had told Trucy before that Phoenix had helped them (Trucy had already known this, she’s read that case and every other case what feels like a thousand times over, her illicit self-read bedtime stories) and that they’d been wanting to do something for the man ever since they heard about The Disbarment.

It’s sort of funny, how independence and getting help seemed to go hand-in-hand.

Trucy and her Daddy roar down the streets, and her grip loosens as she gets more comfortable, and Daddy stops shaking so badly as he gets into his groove, because he’s done this before and has been training and practicing, and he knows how to ride a bike now, and Desiree has taught him how to maintain it, and now, now they are going towards a new normal, a new schedule, a second half of the darkest time of their lives (of course, Trucy doesn’t know this, and neither does her daddy, and now it seems like the shadows is simply where they will always be living) and they prepare to meet it together.

[frostedfaves]

Haunt (7)

Masterlist

Pairing: civilian!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Three women on a bridge, two pairs of feet on the ledge, and one problem that’s easier to solve than you think.

Warnings: angst (but maybe fluff later? 👀), ghosts/demons, slightly graphic blood mentions, attempted bridge jumps/suicide, funeral/car crash/death/grief mentions

A/N: I won’t say that this is the last chapter because I do have an idea for an epilogue...it’s just a matter of whether or not I can execute it properly. anyway, can’t wait to hear your thoughts on what I hope is not a shitty (almost) conclusion!

Previous part

-

“Hey, I thought you were at Wanda’s tonight?” Mia asked, greeting you with a smile as you passed her on the way to your room.

“I am. I just have to grab something.”

You closed the door behind yourself and opened your closet door, using an old storage bin to climb up and reach the tallest shelf. Once the locked box was safely in your hands, you stepped down and grabbed the key taped to the back of your dresser on your way to the bed. The journal and newspaper tumbled out as soon as you unlocked the top, and you took a deep breath to distract yourself from the sudden wave of nausea.

“There.”

You looked up to see a shadowy finger pointing at the picture in the article, and seeing the wreckage again in your conscious state seemed to knock the air out of your lungs.

“That’s home.”

“That’s not home,” you snapped as you met her eyes. “That’s nothing but a grim reminder of what used to be.”

“It’s home, and you’re going there.” When you blinked, you saw a flash of Wanda bleeding out in the same spot you left her, and you gasped as your eyes opened again. “Glad to see I have your attention. Let’s go.”

You quickly made your way out of the apartment again, leaving the light on in your room because you were afraid of what you would see in the dark corners. Once you were in your car, you began your drive down to the place you hadn’t seen since the accident, parking a few feet away from the stop sign with an upset stomach and a heavy heart. As you got out of the car again, you noticed the pole you’d crashed into had been replaced and all the glass and debris were long gone.

“Why am I here?” you questioned, keeping your voice low to match the atmosphere of the nearly silent neighborhood.

“You’re supposed to be on the bridge.”

“The crash didn’t happen there,” you recalled, but you found your feet moving toward the metal staircase anyway.

Your heartbeat seemed to line up with your echoing steps as you made your way up to the bridge, and a sinking feeling told you that this may be the last setting sun you see. Your eyes watered in the orange light as you faced the crash scene again, managing to keep your eyes on it as you climbed onto the ledge and took a seat.

“Why are you sitting?”

“Because I don’t want to do this,” you exhaled as you began to cry again. “I know why you brought me here but I don’t want to do it.”

“Well, I didn’t want to die because you don’t know how to look both ways in an intersection, but here we are.”

“I looked both ways, but the other driver was speeding! How is that my fault?”

“I told you--begged you--not to leave me behind and you did.”

“For fucks sake!” you yelled as you turned your head toward her. “I had to call for help so you wouldn’t die in the car!”

“Instead, you let me die alone in a hospital room. Huge improvement.”

You dropped your head to watch your fingers run along the concrete, listening for any kind of noise from the surrounding area and sighing when there wasn’t a single sound to be heard. Part of you was certain that the being beside you had something to do with that, but you couldn’t be bothered to ask anything else when you knew it might just start a fight. You hated the way it made you feel, taking you back to that very night when you were walking on eggshells around your extremely intoxicated best friend.

“Get up,” the voice suddenly snapped, and you groaned once you recovered from the shock.

“I told you I’m not ready!”

“It’s either you or her.”

The sound of car doors closing came from your left, and you seemed to move on autopilot as you stood up on the ledge, keeping your eyes on the pair as you did so. The wave of nausea grew taller and lasted longer, and you felt the familiar trails down your cheeks headed for your chin.

“Don’t come any closer,” you finally managed to say, feeling a bit of relief when they stopped.

“Baby, please come down,” Wanda choked out, and oh how you wish she hadn’t spoken. Just hearing a second of her soothing voice made you want to run into her arms and never look back, but you knew who would pay the price if you did that.

“I can’t...I have to do this,” you sobbed as you heard the voice from the other side encouraging you to hurry in an angry tone. “It’s the only way to stop her.”

“Y/N, I know it seems that you’ve made up your mind…” You watched Mia pull something from her pocket and hold it up in the air. “...but if you give me a chance, I think I may be able to change it.”

You squinted a bit to try and figure out what she was holding without allowing her to come closer. Every bone in your body yearned to gravitate toward the pair, knowing that you’d feel safer and comforted once you were surrounded by their warmth, but the furious protests stopped you from doing so.

“I’ve had too many chances,” you fought back, frowning when you noticed Wanda locked eyes with Mia for a second before facing you again.

“If you’re going to jump, then I’m coming with you,” she told you calmly as she climbed onto the ledge a short distance away, and you instantly panicked.

“No, you can’t do that!”

“Why not?” she challenged you.

“Because I love you, and I don’t want you to die, especially not like this. You deserve so much better.”

“So do you!” she cried out as she dared to take a step toward you. “Why do you think I’m here?”

“No, Wan, I have to die,” you insisted as you took a step back. “I’ve loved every second of being with you and you’re nothing short of perfect, but I should’ve died a long time ago with my friend. She didn’t deserve to go alone.”

“If she was really your friend, she wouldn’t want this for you.” She took another step, and you found yourself falling into her comforting gaze. “She’d want you to live the life she couldn’t.”

“I hear her everyday, and I don’t think she agrees with you.”

“Okay, so I’m not a therapist obviously,” Mia cut in as the two of you faced her from the ledge. “But are you sure you aren’t just hearing the voice of your own guilt?”

“What?” was all you were able to get out as the raging voice behind you seemed to quiet down.

“You told me that she kissed you and confessed her feelings for you before you left the party. No matter how angry or emotional she was in that moment of you turning her down, she wouldn’t be haunting you like this if she really loved you. Whether it was friendly love or more.”

“Don’t listen to her. She wasn’t there.”

You turned to the other side to glance at your ‘friend’, who seemed to look a lot less like her now. Bitterness and rage became evident in her expression, which really seemed to help Mia’s point. You almost never saw her direct those emotions toward you, even when you’d done something wrong. Still, you had to be sure.

“What were you going to show me?” you asked as you turned to look at Mia again.

“It’s the obituary from the funeral,” she explained as she began unfolding it. “I know you didn’t go, so I thought maybe you’d like to hear what your best friend really thought of you. Her parents included a page from an old journal they found.”

You listened with tears in your eyes as you heard the girl who was once the first and last person you spoke to everyday describe you with words you’d never even considered for yourself. With each sentence, it was more and more obvious that she’d been in love with you far longer than you realized, and the thought comforted you more than it hurt, to your surprise. As the dam broke and breathing became a bit harder, you turned to the entity one more time and a look of understanding seemed to pass between the two of you. You understood that you weren’t in the company of a friend, and she understood that you could no longer be fooled.

“I’m sorry,” you addressed Wanda as you carefully approached her on the ledge, grabbing her hands as they stretched toward you. “I know I’ve put you through hell in the last few months, but I promise to only make you feel as loved as you’ve made me feel, even at my lowest.”

“You already do, detka.”

You couldn’t help but grin as she wiped away any lingering tears with her thumbs before stepping off the ledge and pulling you down into a bone-crushing hug. A breathless laugh escaped you as Mia crashed into you from behind, and you sat there in a comforting silence for another few minutes. You tossed your keys to Mia once you pulled apart after she offered to take your car home, catching a glimpse of the daunting presence as you looked out onto the street below. She was staring at you from beside the pole that replaced the one you crashed into with blood pouring down her side, and just when you felt yourself getting a bit worked up again, Wanda’s warm fingers squeezed yours and reminded you of the safe haven you’d been gifted.

“Thank you for making it in time,” you told Wanda once you were sitting in the car. “You always know the right thing to say or do and when, and I thought maybe it was a side effect of teaching small children for years. Really, it’s just a side effect of being a perfect angel.”

She let out a surprised giggle at your words and leaned over to kiss you for the first time in hours. She didn’t let it go far, simply pulling away and lacing her fingers through yours again as she drove off the bridge and began heading home.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m really glad I ran out of paprika.”

-

Tags: @littlegasps @peggycarter-steverogers @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @cristin-rjd @slut-for-nat @honeyvenable @nazyalenskysbabe @stickystudentlightmug @choni-trimberly @thedragonzland @dylxn-lee @cordeliaswhore @ravvakin96 @leximills2004 @smolgayhooman @ajlawinters @sanctuaryofgods777 @midnightreme @moonlightxmadness

[janaeekook]

Press your Number; (1)

pairing: badboy!taemin x (f) reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: drug use, illegal drug dealing, smutty smut, switch leaning dom!taemin (tw:Jonghyun is mentioned as a character)

When did You meet him? A complicated question really. Taemin. He held secrets in his heart, he was dangerous, maybe that was what intrigued you most about the boy. Sure the leather jacket he always wore was an addition.

College, the day before freshman year, a large party at the neighboring frat to your sorority. That was when you first saw him, when his eyes first hypnotized your mind. It was a rather prestigious school, and Taemin never really fit. That group never fit. Meaning they weren’t the typical pretentious rich kid whose daddy paid full tuition.

You were your parents pride, pretty-headstrong-straight-A-student. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows having wealth, more than you had any idea what to do with. There were standards to be upheld and met, to embarrass yourself would be to embarrass your family.

You’d had a well off relationship with your father, You knew he wanted the best for you. He worked hard so that You’d have a better foot hold in life. You knew that You would be aloof without him, struggling to make ends meet. You didn’t want that. That fear to struggle alone kept you on track, until You went to college of course.

•

The lecture hall was full, though only a handful were still awake. The monotonous voice of your professor, a steady yet peaceful lullaby. The boy next to you jolted awake as the professors voice became louder.

“End of term papers should be turned in on my desk by tomorrow, until then, class dismissed.” The classmates around you grabbed their things, and hurried out of the hall.

“You got the notes for me princess?”

“You shouldn’t fall asleep every class, Taemin. Not everyone is going to do your biding.”

“Hmm, I don’t know I think I can be pretty convincing, don’t you think?” You could feel the smirk radiant from his perfect lips.

“Whatever.” Your face burned, as you stood up and headed for the door.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Taemin’s voice came up behind you, “Let me make it up to you. Tonight.”

“There’s a party tonight.”

“Then your house will be empty?” You could hear the mischievous tone in his voice.

“Taemin-“

“Come on please?”

You sighed, “Fine, but if any of them come home-“

“I hide in the closet and don’t make a sound.” He waved it off nonchalantly.

“It’s serious Taemin, if my father were to get wind of anything that’s going on...” You paused, trying to find the right words.

“He won’t go along with it, I know.” He said as we made it into the hall.

“Y/n!” Your friend, Mia, called your name from down the hall.

“I’ll be over at 9.” Taemin whispered before slipping amongst the crowd. You let the familiar shiver ghost up your spine, Taemin always did that to you, and it was only his words. His hands, however, made you shake in pleasure and anticipation.

“Are you ready for the party tonight?” Mia asked excitedly linking arms.

“Aw you know, I don’t think I can make it. I need to pack, my dad is coming tomorrow afternoon after classes.”

“Y/n l/n? Not prepared? It can’t be.” She jokingly gasped.

“Ya, ya, I’ll be fine.” Mia chuckled as you went back to the house.

•

You bid the girls goodbye, it was 9:30, they claimed they couldn’t be early even if the party was just a few houses down, they had to show up fashionably late. You’d texted Taemin to just wait in his car until they left.

“Thirty minutes, that’s how long I sat there.” Taemin informed you as he came through the door. You giggled as he grabbed your waist and pulled you against him, the kiss he placed on your lips was hungry, desperate, your arms snaked around his neck. You were pushed against the wall next to the front door, “Though, it gave me time to think of what I can do to you tonight.” He pulled away to speak, moving his lips to the sensitive skin of your neck.

His hand slipped beneath your polka-dot pajama shorts. Pulling your panties to the side he plunged a finger into you. The gasped moan that fell past your lips held longing. You’d missed his touch, it was enough to drive you over the edge already. The sloppy circles he drew over your clit with his thumb made your body shake lightly.

You pulled away lightly your mouth hung somewhat open and eyes hooded in pleasure, “Upstairs.” You managed to get out. Taemin got the hint before pulling away and letting you lead him up the steps.

The door shut behind Taemin before he grabbed you from behind and latched his lips onto your neck again. Your breath was shaky in your throat.

“God I’m gonna miss this.” Taemin mumbled into your neck, the words served as a reminder that it was the last week of school before winter break. You’d be going home, returning to the city, the upper east side of New York, for the holidays.

You were going to miss the freedom of college for 4 weeks, you were going to miss Taemin’s touch, the way he made your body feel. He didn’t hold back, he wanted to proclaim to whatever God, show them exactly how much he loved you. He knew, however, that he couldn’t have more than these secret—behind closed doors— meet ups, hiding away your relationship from prying eyes. He wasn’t of ‘her class’ as they’d say, image and reputation mattered, and he didn’t fit that image.

As he thrust into you from behind, his pace got almost unbearable as he slammed his cock deeper inside you. Unintentionally taking his anger out on your body, your cries of pleasure were muffled, your face having been pressed into the mattress. Tears and saliva wetting the blankets beneath you, your senses where completely heightened as you felt your orgasm approaching. And when his cock brought you your release it was his name you cried out in pure ecstasy— but he didn’t stop his menstruations, the seemingly endless slapping of your skin with his.

Your body shook, the overstimulation taking its toll. He pulled you up so that your back was pressed against his bare chest, “T-Taemin I can’t-“ you spoke through breathless moans.

“No baby, I know you can,” He reassured you before bringing his hand around to rub harsh circles over your clit, “Give me another one.”

His combined efforts hurtled you over the edge again in less than a minute. Tears continually streamed down your cheeks, and a chocked sob left your throat, before Taemin met his own release with a low grunt in your ear.

You collapsed next to each other, catching your breaths. Your breaths mixing in the steamy mess of your bedroom. Taemin rolled onto his side, facing you before he grabbed your chin and kissed you, it was hungry yet passionate. It strangely really felt like ‘goodbye’ rather than the ‘see you later’ it used to be.

“What’s wrong?” You ask when he pulls away.

“I just-“ He shook his head, sending you a small closed mouth smile, “Never mind, It’s not important.”

He said it in his head, screamed it, ‘I love you, please don’t choose someone else, please don’t walk away.’ However he knew he’d never say it to you. He was bad for you, his tendencies and habits. He knew it wouldn’t be more than these secret meetings. You’d find someone, or your father would, who gave you more than his own criminal-like tendencies could. He knew you’d be happier in someone else’s arms.

•

The last day of classes was easy, term papers all turned in. Taemin fell asleep in class again, everything was normal, to the finest degree.

“I’ll drive you home.” Taemin had said to you, you nodded to him with a smile. You reached his car, a dark green 1970 Chevy Impala, a very Taemin car in your opinion. He opened the passenger door for you.

“How chivalrous of you.” Your words causing him to roll his eyes as he shut the door, to which you chuckled, “So what do I owe the pleasure, you taking me home?” You asked once he was in the drivers seat.

He shrugged, as he pulled away from the curb and continued down the street, “I won’t see you for awhile, might as well enjoy your company.”

You snorted, “No need to get all sappy with me Lee, I’m sure you’ll have me tangled in the sheets the day we come back to campus.”

Silence filled the car as he drove down the streets. You could sense he had something on his mind, like he had the urge to say something. And he didn’t the whole way, until you were parked across the street from the sorority both your backs leaning against the driver side of the car. Taemin lit a cigarette taking a few drags before finally speaking, the brisk breeze blowing the cloud of tobacco your way.

“What about your father?” His words held a bitter twinge to them— as if mentioning him left a bad taste in his mouth.

You looked over and up at him as you studied his face for any indication of what he meant, “What about him?” His eyes bore down into your own with the upmost intensity. free from prying eyes. Or so you thought.

Taemin shook his head, “Nevermind.” You overlooked the pained smile he had forced on his features. Stepping on his cigarette before moving in front of you he grabbed your cheek then placing his lips upon your own, the same hunger they always had beneath it made you crack a smile against his lips. He pressed your back flush against the side of his car.

“Taemin, as much fun as you fucking me against your car sounds, it’s probably not the best idea.” Your voice was breathy as you pulled away.

“I’ll be subtle about it.” He smirked. You considered it, the street was pretty much barren, void of any prying eyes. Or so you thought.

“My dad will be here to pick me up soon.”

“Tch, your lose.” He said before stepping away from you.

“I’ll see you in a couple weeks.” You smiled, pecking at his lips before walking across the street but you stopped half way turning back around to face him, “And Taemin, don’t be a stranger, text me.”

“Ya, ya, as you wish.” He waved you off with a smile, “Have fun.”

You waved to him as he drove away, and when you turned to go inside you heard a car honk. You turned around again only for your fathers ginormous black suburban to pull up, and to your surprise your father was the one driving.

When he got out you gave him a bear hug, you were his little girl.

“Oof,” he let out along with a chuckle, “Your hugs never get old, sweetheart. You ready to go?”

“Where’s Kevin?” You asked when you released him from the hug, curious as to where your fathers driver was.

“He had some business to attend to.” He reassured you, “I assume you have everything packed? We don’t want to keep your mother waiting.”

“Ya I just have to grab my bag.”

•

5 minutes prior;

Your father watched from where you had parked further down the street, he was seething. Watching as some random boy pinned his daughter between himself and the car. He was bad news, searching for a climb up the New York social latter.

The leather jacket, the car, the cigarettes, the way he handled his precious daughter. He was no where near the standard he held for his daughter.

“Sir?” Kevin asked from the drivers seat.

“Tail him, find out who he is, I never want him coming near my daughter again.”

“Sir, are you saying-“

“Yes. Take him out.”

•

Taemin;

He sat on the couch in the back of the club— the typical hangout. He had a new cigarette sitting between his middle and pointer finger, Jinki came threw the door to his office, a large stack of cash in hand.

“Hey jackass this isn’t a lodging house, feet off the couch.” Taemin scoffed but ultimately listened, sitting up.

“Is that all from last night?” He asked.

“Only half.”

“Shit.” Kibum said from his spot on the floor, most likely high with the way he was slurring his words, “We should put Taemin on the stage more often.”

“We getting our shares?” Minho asked as he cleaned his gun.

“Push me and your answer will be no. Kibum, stop testing the fucking merchandise, I’m not afraid to cut your share.” Laughter bubbled in Kibums throat, “Jonghyun, can you sober him up? I need him to sell tonight.”

Jonghyun sighed, “On it.”

“Taemin— I’m putting you on section 3, bachelorette party.”

“Fantastic.” He said before taking another drag from his cigarette.

The 5 of them worked together, Jinki bought the club a couple years back. He hired strippers, waitresses and bar tenders, and the 5 of them worked the illegal dealings, most of the time. But after a male stripper left on short notice, Taemin stepped in. And the costumers loved him. Kibum sold illegal drugs to mingling groups, usually with the help of Taemin. Minho covers security— checking Id’s and such, and Jonghyun dj’s, the whole ordeal wouldn’t work without him.

Before he went out and danced almost fully naked in front of random women. He texted you.

T: goodnight, sleep well

Y/n: Lee Taemin going to bed early? Who are you???

Taemin couldn’t help but smile at his screen, he could hear your voice as he read it.

T: No, but I know you do

Y/n: You got me there...

T: Sleep well

•

The previous week drifted past and it was Christmas Eve. Snow now on the ground, it absorbed the noise around it, making everything fall quite.

The club wasn’t the ideal place any regular person would find themselves on Christmas. But the boys were all Taemin had, the only people he could truly consider family.

“JESUS KIBUM!” Jinki’s voice shouted, the boy in question was slouched over on the couch, passed out. He didn’t even stir.

“He’s cooked, good luck with that.” Minho snorted.

“We had a new buyer meeting set up tonight, willing to pay double for 7 grams.”

“I can do it.” Taemin shrugged, and it was settled. A Simple deal, nothing he couldn’t handle.

You;

Piano played carols downstairs, the annual Christmas Eve party your father threw was in full swing. The wealthy families in the neighborhood attended talked business and such. Though you were preoccupied, starring at the screen of your phone, waiting for Taemin to text you back, you sighed when nothing popped up you left your phone on you bed before slipping back down the stairs to join the crowd.

“Y/n, darling, there you are! There’s someone your father would like you to meet.” Your mother spoke, she grabbed your hand guiding you in the foyer. You saw your father talking to a man about his age.

“Ah, sweetheart!” Your father greeted with a warm smile, “This is Mr. and Mrs. Wong, We work closely together.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Wong.” You said with a bright smile.

“And, can’t forget their wonderful son, very intelligent young man.” Your father gestured to the boy who stood with them, you hadn’t even realized he was there until that very moment. He was handsome, he grabbed your hand kissing the back of it lightly.

“I’m Lucas.” He greeted and you swore that smile would make you melt, your cheeks burned crimson. You knew what your father was proposing with Lucas, and you couldn’t exactly fight him in it. In a life such as yours, your choices are made for you, including who to love and marry. Though you felt loving Lucas would come easier than you’d imagined.

Taemin;

Taemin was leaned against a graffiti covered wall in a quiet alley way, waiting for this new costumer Jinki had spoken of. The guy eventually came down the alley, Taemin rolled his eyes at how obvious this new-bee was being.

“Hey are you-“ he started.

“Ya, ya, you got the money?”

“Can I see the product first?” The man asked, Taemin rolled his eyes before taking out the bag holding it up, “That’s it?”

“It’s what you asked for, 7 grams.”

“I don’t remember that.” The guy argued.

“Look, take it or leave it dude.”

But he didn’t respond, that’s when Taemin saw the flashing lights, his stomach dropped, “NYPD, come out of the alley with your hands up!”

“You set this up? Fucking snitch.” He spat before he went barreling down the other side of the alley. He ran to his car, speeding off, his mind was racing a thousand miles per minute. He knew if they didn’t know his car by now they’d know soon.

He pulled up behind the club, rushing out of the car and then inside. Taemin shoved Jinki the second he saw him, The tensions quickly going from 0 to 100.

“The bastard called the cops!” Taemin yelled.

“Fucking shit.” Jinki spoke.

“I have to go, I-I have to leave.” Taemin was freaking out.

“Taemin we can figure this out, you don’t have to go anywhere.” Jonghyun stepped in.

“I’m not taking you all down with me- I’m sorry, I’ll contact you all when it’s safe.”

And with that Taemin was out the door again, hearing the sirens off in the distance only serving to heighten his unrest. As he sped through the bustling night streets. He pulled out his phone as he headed for the countryside, in hopes to disappear and lay low for a bit.

He pressed your number, his heart ached when you didn’t answer. He took a deep breath to steady his voice, going to speak when the tone sounded.

“Hey, Y/n, uh— I got into some trouble, I won’t be able to talk until it’s safe- Uh b-but I will, don’t worry too much about me.”

He wished he could’ve heard your voice, spoken directly to you. It would’ve calmed him down, cleared his mind enough to be aware of the black suburban tailing behind him. Would’ve prepared him for the pit maneuver that sent his car into a tree.

He coughed on the smoke before pushing the car door open, and falling out onto the asphalt. Taemin looked up to see the man from the alley way.

“You-“ Taemin croaked, blood from a cut on his forehead dripped down his face, “What? Are you a cop?”

He chuckled, “Taemin, you simply messed with the wrong family. And pissed off a powerful father.”

“You’re mistaken, Ive never met the guy.” Taemin’s hoarse voice spoke again.

“You really think he doesn’t keep tabs on her?”

“So what are you here for? To threaten me to not go near her again?” He asked groaning as he rose to his feet.

“Not exactly.” The man, Kevin, raised his arm. A gun in hand. And before Taemin had time to react it was too late. A twisted game of class resulting in blood shed. For she was higher than he.

The final sounds hushed by the snow that began to fall; were that of a gun shot and a body crumpling to the cool earth below.

[andcontemplation]

You’re so cute and amazing! What do you think happened between Hopper, Joyce and Lonnie when they were young? Do you think that Joyce didn’t love Hop romantically in high-school? Or they were in love, but something went wrong(like what?)? Why she fell for Lonnie?

Aw, Anon, now I’m blushing! Thank *you* for being so sweet and kind!

This question… is my whole world. Seriously, not exaggerating. I think about this a lot since it’s the plot for the fic series I’m (slowly) writing. 

Spoilers for the first half of Time in a Bottle below... (specifically Stand By Me and an updated version of Paint it Black which will be published soon) 

So, disclaimer -- my head canon is that Joyce and Hopper are a bit younger in the show than the actors are in real life. I like to think that they graduated HS in 1965 just because it seems to fit in well with actual real-world events and the kid’s birthdates, etc.

I’ll try to keep this history brief, and in point form so I don’t get carried away here lol 

Hopper and Joyce grew up across the street from each other and were best friends from the time they could walk. Their dads were military buddies, until Joyce’s dad died in the Pacific Theater when she was just a baby. Their mother’s remained very close over the years. Hopper’s dad didn’t approve of Joyce’s mom’s lifestyle and marrying again so soon after his friend died though, so there was always some hard feelings there as the kids grew up.

Lonnie was friends with Hopper first, in elementary and middle school. He picked on Joyce and pulled her pigtails, shoved her in the dirt, even though Hopper did it back to him in retaliation, Joyce’s protector.

When Lonnie started to take a real interest in Joyce in high school, that made Hopper jealous and started the rift between them.

Joyce always liked both guys, but in different ways and at different times.

Hopper was her best friend, and they did everything together. He was her first crush at eleven years old, before that was quickly squashed when he told her girls were gross, and also her fifth crush later on when they both started dating in their early teens. Hopper was dating all the pretty blondes though, so Joyce just figured she wasn’t his type and moved on from her little crush, no hard feelings.

Lonnie was the cool, older bad boy in Hawkins (he failed a grade) and Joyce wanted to date him primarily to piss her mom off, but also because he was different than all the other guys she knew. There was something brooding and aloof about him and what teenage girl wouldn’t fall for that stereotype? She didn’t have a crush on him until grade eleven.

Lonnie dates Joyce first, in their senior year of HS, but only because Hopper is too nervous to make a move. Hopper always saw Joyce as a BFF first and he didn’t want to throw a lifelong friendship away just because he had some feelings, if you know what I mean. Still, he finds himself looking at her in a new light now that he can’t have her.

Lonnie treats Joyce like crap though, and she realizes what a jerk he is and breaks it off… the week before Prom.

Hopper asks Joyce to go with him so she didn’t have to skip it or go alone. This stirs up that old crush in Joyce and she realizes her true feelings for her best friend.

They share a perfect kiss at Prom (some trauma too when Lonnie catches them!) and start dating soon after. 

Joyce and Hop spend the summer after highschool completely and utterly head over heels for each other, in a way only young lovers know 🥰 (”Summer lovin’ had me a blast...”)

Even though things are going well between them and he doesn’t want to break it off with Joyce, Hopper enlists for the army to fight in Vietnam, mostly due to pressure from his dad and his peers wanting to go get it over with since a draft was looking to be inevitable by the fall of 1965. Hopper doesn’t think he’ll get called up right away, but he does and has to leave.

Joyce is devastated, but she promises to wait for him and they write each other every week. And they do at first, and become very close; opening up about stuff that they couldn’t even admit to themselves in their love letters. Slowly, as he finishes bootcamp and then special training, he starts to write less and less as things become more and more stressful for him. He doesn’t want to worry her about the shit he’s seeing.

Eventually, he’s facing combat in Vietnam, when he tells he doesn’t think he’ll be able to write for a while. His letter mentions something about a girl named Hannah, who told him to give up, and he just sounds so unlike himself… Joyce isn’t even sure it’s him writing to her any more.

She’s worried about his change in demeanor and upset that he’s seeming ghosted her for another girl (not realizing he was talking about Hanoi Hannah — a propaganda radio host used by North Vietnam to demoralize the US troops.)

A few weeks later, right before Christmas 1966, the awful news comes that Hopper went MIA in the jungles of Vietnam and is presumed dead. Joyce is completely destroyed by this and mourns him.

Lonnie comes back into her life soon after. He sees Joyce is not her usual self and tries his best to make up for being a jerk to her in high school. He asks if they can give it a try again and says that she was the one that got away. He thinks he’s in love with her. She’s the only woman who can clean him up.

Joyce is hurting, her self esteem is nowhere to be found and it’s a bit flattering to hear all that, so she goes along with him, wanting to feel something other than the hurt she feels losing Hopper. She parties hard with Lonnie and his friends, and goes through a bit of a wild streak fighting off her own depression.

A month or so later, Joyce finds out she’s pregnant with Jonathan. Lonnie does the right thing and marries her right away and indeed, he does clean up for a while, in preparation for being a dad. They have a blissful honeymoon stage and are as in love as they can be (considering Joyce is still heartbroken about Hop and it’s Lonnie we’re talking about lol)

While Joyce is in her third trimester, the town of Hawkins gets a shocking bit of news. Jim Hopper is alive! He had been assumed dead when the army found his dog tag next to another man’s body who had stepped on a landmine. In reality, he had been taken as a POW and held for the last eight months by the North Vietnamese.

Joyce is relieved to hear Hopper is okay, but is sad that she has moved on without him. She comes to the conclusion that everything happens for a reason and tries to feel content with the path she’s chosen for herself.

Jonathan is born at the end of 1967 and Joyce falls in love with the new little man in her life.

Hopper is treated in a hospital in Saigon. He’s due to be honorably discharged and sent home if he wants, but when he finds out Joyce is starting a family with Lonnie, he volunteers to stay for another tour.  

When he comes back to the US in late 1968, he stays out in California for a bit, hanging out at Whisky-a-go-go, following the Doors around Los Angeles, sleeping with all the hippie chicks and generally just getting into trouble. 

In 1969, he meets Diane, his nurse at the VA where he’s being treated for his PTSD and they start dating. She wants to move back home to NYC and become a teacher. He plans to follow her...

Phew! That’s a lot...

Hopefully that answers your questions :) I have more history written down that spans 1970 through to 1983 but I will leave it there for now since this pretty much encompasses my head canon for high school/post-high school Jopper (and this post is long enough already lol.)  Thank you so much for the ask! It was fun to answer, and a big help to get it all out on paper in a linear timeline instead of my usual messy notes :)

[maricorcoran]

in a café, i watched it begin again.

tagging: @harvberry @maricorcoran

location: The library and then the street. 

time frame: May 21. 

about: Harvey and Marissa see each other after years. 

warnings: this is very very cheesy. 

Marissa enjoyed getting to have a free afternoon, now that classes were wrapped. With that in mind, she moved easily around the city to her favorite spot: the bookstore. Summer was just starting and she needed to get some new things to pass the time, considering that Mia was probably gonna be a little busy, just as Jack. As she arrived, the girl walked around the place, going straight to the ya romance section. Normally, she would prefer to go into a more classic direction, but the sun and the new season made her want to read something more up to date. Easily, she picked four books, trying to hold them all in a little pile against her chest so she could go to the desk, but as soon as she turned, Marissa collided with someone else. The impact made the books go right to the floor and Marissa kneeled down, putting some hair behind her ear with one hand. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t...” Her words died on her throat as soon as her eyes caught a glimpse of the other person, feeling her heart jumped out of her chest. “Harvey?”

Harvey was having the time of his life. He had just finished up his shift at the gym and was walking home when he walked by the bookstore. It had been a while since he last read a book, so he decided to find something to amuse himself with. Looking around all excited, he forgot to look forward and accidentally bumped into someone. "My apologies! I was definitely not looking where I was going..." He immediately bent down and started collecting the books. When he heard his name, he lifted his gaze from the books to meet an all too familiar face. "Marissa." His eyes widened in surprise. Here was a girl that plagued his dreams for many moons before. He thought he would never be able to see her again. "Marissa!" He repeated, "Hi, wow, you look absolutely fantastic!" He said standing up, he reached out a hand to help Marissa stand as well.

Marissa didn't know what to do with herself, something she was clearly not used to. Normally, she had her thoughts welll put together, but with Harvey in front of her, she didn't know hot to act. It felt like they were in Europe a life time ago, that she was a completely different person. "Harvey" Saying his name was probably a good start and taking his hand, she stood up, pressing the books against her chest. "Thank you" She knew her cheeks were red, just like the color of the sky, but she stood her ground and made a smile. "You look good as well. I didn't know you were in town" Or in America, since you never called.

Smiling warmly at Marissa, Harvey simply stared at the brunette in front of him. It's been so long since he last saw her. Ever since his phone broke and he lost her number, he thought that was it - he was never going to have any way to contact her or see her again. But here she is! "You are even more beautiful than last time I saw you." He said softly. "Oh yes, it's been a few years? I got into an accident and I decided to move back home so here I am. What are you doing here?"

With the seconds passing, Marissa was starting to ease back into been a normal person. That's why Harvey's comment brought some softness to her smile, knowing that he was honest with his comment. "I'm glad you think so" It did made her feel great, that he still found her easy on the eye, but all those thoughts went out of the window. "Are you okay? What happened?" Unable to hold herself, she moved her free hand to rest on his arm, eyes quickly assessing him in search for any injury.

"I'm fine now, don't worry." Harvey said as he placed his hand over Marissa's in comfort. "I just can't run very fast anymore, so I had to change career. What brings you to Doveport, Marissa?" His heart has been beating double time since he laid eyes on Marissa. It's been years, but there's something special about Marissa that he just can't seem to forget. "I missed you." He blurted it out instead of waiting for a response.

Marissa kept her eyes on him, trying to see if there was any change in his attitude that told her that this was more painful for him that he let her see. He was a soccer player, she remembered and it must had been hard for him to just let it go. "I live here now actually, since a few months ago" How in the world had she missed him for this long if they lived in the same town? it wasn't like Doveport was the biggest place in the world. Her eyes moved right to his, her hand dropping lightly from his arm to be pulled back to her books. "It's very good to see you, Harvey" If he had missed her, why he didn't call her? After all this time?

Harvey looked down at the books in Marissa's hands and decided they should go somewhere else to continue this conversation. He wasn't ready to let her go just yet, not after so many years. "Do you want to get coffee with me? Or tea?" He asked instead.

She wanted to say yes, so badly. Marissa knew that they shouldn't have a long conversation in the middle of a bookstore, but there was some hesitation before answering. At the end, the fact that he was here in Doveport, of all places in the world, was enough to make her agree to it. "I would love to, if you are not busy right now" Her eyes moved to the desk, just before going back to him. "I just need to pay for this"

"No, not busy at all. I'm all yours!" Harvey grinned happily. He gets to spend more time with Marissa, that's always something to be grateful for. Hopefully he'll be able to reconnect with her and they could still be friends. What are the chances they would meet in a small town after all these years? He went to the counter with Marissa and watched as she checked out her books. He offered to carry them as they walked out of the bookstore. "There's a cafe not too far from here, do you want to go there? Or is there anywhere particular you have in mind?"

Her hand itched to take her phone and text Mia, but she resisted as they finished their business inside the bookstore. "I'd love some coffee. Anywhere is fine" It was insanely weird to walk beside him, mostly because the whole situation felt something out of a strange dream. "It's been a few years, hasn't it?" She didn't know what to say or how to act around him, but there was no point in lying or not going straight to the point.

Harvey forced himself to look ahead but that only resulted in him taking glances over at Marissa every other step. “Yeah.. at least two years.” He lamented “ but looking at you now makes it seem like it was just yesterday we said goodbye at the airport.” He said with a smile. “I never thought I’d see you again! This is definitely something worth celebrating!”

So he did remember. Marissa had a great memory and she was sure about dates and times, but it made her confused that he did. There was some part of the story that was missing from her point of view, something that made Harvey actually looked sad about not keeping in touch with her when it was all his doing. "Well, I did want to see you again, after we return" Marissa commented casually, not truly matching his enthusiastic tone. At least not yet. "I remember I gave you my number"

His smile quickly turned into a grimace when he realized Marissa caught on. “I know, and I made sure to text you the moment I landed! But the sad news is that I bumped into someone when I was texting you.. and my phone fell out of my hands and a car ran over it.” His voice got smaller and smaller as he regaled the story. “I hadn’t had time to memorize it yet so when they told me they couldn’t get my old phone to work, I lost your number.” He said sadly as he turned to look at Marissa. “I really wanted to see you again! But then when I lost your number... I was very upset for a while afterwards.”

Whatever that Marissa expected him to say, that was definitely not that. For the short time she knew Harvey, she had been able to pick up his complete inability to lie and it seemed that, years later, it was still the same. "A car" She repeated, just for clarification. "I... Well, I have spent the last few years thinking that either you didn't want to call or that you were simple an invention of my mind. I can say I'm happily surprised by the turn of events" To punctuate her words, and the fact that light teasing was her way to calm him, Marissa pressed her hand against his arm, just like she had done at the bookstore, but this time she kept it there as they walked.

Harvey sighed heavily as he thought back to the events that led to him losing whatever chance he had with Marissa. If only he paid more attention as to where he was going. “I am a terrible person, I know. I should’ve been more attentive to my surroundings. Or at least write down your number somewhere else!” His lower lip jut out slightly. “I’m sorry. Truly. Will you ever find it in you to forgive me?”

At least for Marissa, it was impossible to not be charmed by him. "I think it's something that can happen to anyone. Would you hold it against me if the roles were reversed?" Now it was actually a bit funny, if she thought about that. Specially if you considered that, at the end, they have found each other in Doveport. "There is nothing to forgive, Harvey. I promise. I do feel a lot better to know that it wasn't just a ghosting situation"

“I would never ghost you!” He said urgently. Harvey needed Marissa to know that she was very important to him. He had spent days and weeks thinking about her when he came back from his trip to Europe. “I wanted so badly to find you again, but I didn’t even know your last name.” He trailed off sadly. “I would never hold it against you if you don’t want to see me again after this. After all I was the one who didn’t contact you for years.”

Marissa sighed, knowing that light conversation wasn't going to be enough. "Harvey" Her hand moved down to his, stopping him in the middle of the street so she could actually stare directly at him. It was her luck that there weren't many people, so they weren't truly blocking the street. "I believe you and I promise, we are fine. It was something that was on my mind but now I know that happened and we can move pass it" The corners of her mouth lifted up lightly, head titling to the side. "And it's Corcoran. My last name. In case you miss me again"

Harvey held Marissa’s hand in his and looked directly at her eyes. He nodded after a good minute. “I’m Harvey Berry. And this time I’m not letting you go so easily.” He added firmly with a smile.

It felt final, somehow. Like everything he was saying was set on stone and for some reason, she felt right back in Europe, in the middle of a that particular dream. "Alright, then" Her eyes moved down to their joined hands. "I believe coffee is waiting for us, is it not?"

His smile grew into a full blown grin as he raised their joint hands forward. “Off we go!” He said as he gently swung their arms together. “You’ll have to tell me everything that’s happened ever since we parted! I want to know everything!”

Now that the serious part was out of the way, and that by some miracle her heart had stopped working extra hours, Marissa was able to relax back to her normal self. "You seem to forget who are you talking with" She comment lightly, letting him drag her around the street. "'m sure you have more entertaining things to tell me"

Harvey let their shoulders bump into each other as he replied “What? Me? No way. I don’t live nearly as exciting as you do. I’ve been spending the last two years here in Doveport working at the gym. Oh, I got a dog! There’s that. But other than that, I don’t think there’s anything you don’t already know.”

She couldn't help but let her eyes shine a little bit brighter. "You have a dog? I got one too, since I got here" And just because she was the proudest dog mom in the world, she used her free hand to take out of her cellphone and showed him her wallpaper. "This is Anne, I got her just when I move here"

Harvey peered over to see the cutest dog on Marissa’s screen. “She’s adorable! A few months then. I recently got Pancakes with my roommate. I think it’s been a few weeks? Here let me show you. We had pictures professionally taken to celebrate her joining the family.” He took out his own phone and showed her all the puppy pictures he’s stored in his phone.

Professional photos? How had she never thought about it? "Oh my god" Her voice went higher than normal, taking his phone out of his hand and watching the little photo, moving them along with her finger. "She is so beautiful, Harvey. And she looks truly happy too"

Harvey ran his hand through his hair and chuckled happily to himself. It's always nice to hear that people thought Pancakes is happy with him. He knew some dogs didn't particularly like their owner, but he was glad that he lucked out on his new friend. "She's the best thing that's happened to me. She's really cute. She tries to jump on me but apparently the vet said I should curb that habit since she's a big dog. She might hurt someone by jumping on them, but she's just so cute!" He gushed. "You should come by sometime and get to know her! I knew she would just fall in love with you."

It was adorable to hear him talk about his dog, making her really happy that she agreed to go get a coffee with him. "Oh, I'm sure she just wants her hugs. Poor thing" The smile that appeared on her face was big and bright. "I would love to. I'm sure Anne would love to have a new friend, she is so much more extrovert than me" Now that she thought about it, most of the new friends she had made her in Doveport were thanks to lovely Anne.May 26, 2020

As they approach the coffee shop, Harvey made sure to hold the door open for Marissa before inviting her to order. "It'll be on me. It's not every day I bump into someone special in the streets." He said with a bright smile. Once they placed their order, Harvey found them a place to sit. "So have you been travelling much these past years? I've always wanted to go to Australia, but I never got to. I might take that trip now that I'm settled back in."May 28, 2020

Happy to follow his lead, Marissa smiled grateful and gave her order, letting him pick a place where they could sit peacefully and talk. "I haven't, actually. The last trip I had before coming here was the one that we made together" That's how Marissa always thought about it, like Harvey was always part of that little adventure, not an accidental addition. "Australia sounds like an entertaining destination. Not exactly my type of scenario, but I can see the appeal"

[inexchangeforyoursoul]

*chucks this to the starving lions* Can I get, uhhh… you interested in some dabihawks intimacy over burns? (2k+ words) ( AO3 )

Hawks lacks his trademark energy. His movements, be them his quirky little leg bounce or a mundane lift of a hand, have become sluggish- that is, if he even bothers moving. Everything about him screams exhaustion, even after almost two weeks of being off duty. Forcing himself to get outside makes Dabi think the hero crazy for two entirely new reasons.

First, he’s everything but suited to walk the streets like this, with restricted mobility that’s just begging for some nosy assholes to tail him. Especially nowadays. He also could have become easy prey to petty villains in the first shady alley, as there’s no way in hell that he can use his left wing for anything but sending out some warped or puny feathers. Considering the cotton pads lining his neck and that his upper body is still covered in bandages under the tee, two sizes too big, this is also not subject to change for a while. There’s one additional pad on his left cheek, likely hiding the spot of a particularly nasty blister. And this mess here had the nerve to ask for a meetup and sneak out to this infection-ridden hole, but let's not even go there.

No, there's a bigger issue. The other reason Hawks is a madman… the thing that ties an unswallowable knot in Dabi’s stomach, and makes him reconsider coming for the umpteenth time, and legitimately uncomfortable… is that the gauze on the other's body is hiding second, if not third degree burns that he himself had inflicted, under circumstances he’d rather not even think of.

Once it becomes obvious that he won't be the one to initiate, Hawks’ familiar voice rings with forced bravado. “What’s with the long face? You look even deader than usual,” he chides the villain. It almost sounds like there wasn't a rotting elephant carcass in the room. Almost.

There's no answer he can muster. He’s just staring vacantly at the left side of the other’s face. A silent thought notes how the hero's hair grows about as fast as his feathers do after being shaved. Or burned. He made all those passive-aggressive jokes in the beginning, about what high quality kindling Hawks would make if set ablaze. And he really does burn so fast… so easily.

He should have ignored the message altogether.

Hawks sighs; his scowl softens and the tired smile disappears without a trace. No point in waltzing around the metaphorical bush, is there. “See… this is why I wanted to come. Because I figured your punk ass would wax emo over it. She's safe and sound, isn't she? And I'll just have to deal with it. It’s for doing the same damn heroic thing you keep chewing me out on, after all. Can’t help not make dumb decisions? Then let them bite you in the ass! So it did, you were right! Congrats. Not that it’s a big deal, though. This shit’s always been part of my job description.”

He cannot find it in himself to give an edge to the words, or get any snarkier with Dabi right now. The incident had some really bad timing. Things… had already been changing between them, for better or worse. Dabi’s painfully aware of this, too. As for Hawks…

It's hard to forget what it looks like. The way a man's blind rage and murderous intent change to the frantic panic and horror of a child at the drop of a hat… What seeing it feels like, as your left side is set on fire in real time, feeling a thousand-degree hand print itself into your flesh in slow motion, before it’s yanked away as if it had been charred by something burning even hotter inside you. What Dabi’s voice sounds like when in distress, calling out for someone he cared for, thinking he hurt them. Then the change to a faint moment of immense relief in those haunting eyes as your body goes into shock, before giving way to some kind of indescribable emotion that’s the bastard child of those preceding it, and more.

Dabi blinks, eyes still fixated over the rose-laced, ghastly pale patchwork on Hawks’ tan skin. That's a job description he wouldn't have to worry about if he had been given a choice, the idiot. First, he was mad at him that he would intervene. But… if Hawks hadn’t been there, and jumped in between a few minutes later, he---

“It's weird and creepy to have you staring at me like this, you know? The world didn't quite end, but aren't there some news which you should be raving about…? There's chaos and distrust all over the place, people are suspicious of everything labelled hero… they even got rid of that flaming pile of garbage to save some face, didn't they? I'm having it nice with the second guesses around my alignment and inactivity, to be honest… Slipping from the top ten while also being hospitalized makes you have time for yourself! Who would have thought?” It won’t stay like this. No, no… his name is just clean enough from every available angle that both the populace and the Commission trust him and in his return. Latter will want to get him battle ready as soon as possible, right after screaming their heads off at him. He’ll get a message next week, tops. He’s almost happy to oblige, though…

“I’ve been wanting some me time for a while now, but, how should I put it... now that I got my wish… I feel like shit, and can’t do shit that I’d like to do. Karma, bitch- I’m sitting in my room all day, with no idea how to pass time, haha!” No learning to play the guitar, gardening, or how to bake brownies. He can't even take a proper shower with all the bandages and his left shoulder being as stiff as a board. There's only his body, pulsating with slowly rising, light fever, and the numb existence after taking one of those potent painkillers before the aching starts all over again. He usually cannot even remember what happens in the series he ends up watching. It’s frustrating as all hell, and killing his ADHD-plagued ass whenever he has the energy to do something. He would have gone crazy if even his right hand had been off-limits.

If not for Hawks, he would have...

The blonde’s eyes flicker to his aching side as his fake smile returns, and he lifts a hand over the bandages covering his neck. The fingers look mangled under thick layers of shedding, dead skin; the rest, still hidden from view. “The model gig is off the table, too, I guess. They are planning to patch my face up once my wings and joints are salvaged, from what I could gather. Not that it’s a priority, though.” There’s a pause. “I also caught up with my feed, and some ‘fans’ just up and left after getting a little sunburn, too… like, seriously!? That’s just mean,” he moans with thinly veiled disappointment. He exhales with closed eyes and the barely-smile, fingers lingering at the edges of the exposed burns. The expression sticks for a moment.

He would have… burned his mother.

Dabi steps closer, reaching up to Hawks’ face, then barely touches his wounded cheek. This prompts the other to open his eyes again, with light surprise, confusion, and perhaps wariness reflecting in them. “It’s high time those little snots reevaluated their tastes,” Dabi speaks up at last, brushing the back of his fingers over the sensitive skin. He never gave a flying fuck about pretty faces, but… “You never looked better.”

To anybody else, this would sound like a dig… which, it kind of is. But Hawks can read and hear the subtext, which is to say, mild disdain and genuine gratitude. It’s… something else, though. Basically being told that he’s the most beautiful he’s ever been. It’s doing funny things to him inside- it’s beyond great to feel something after the days spent as a walking vegetable. Those fingers are, ironically, also nice and cool against his aching skin, but all of this is getting a little too much to handle at once.

Intended or not, it worms an involuntary (and rather painful), real smile out of Hawks. “Wow… gross.”

He’d be amused at the answer already, but the smile is what gives Dabi whiplash, cracking the uneasiness boulder the size of a truck sitting on his chest and sending him straight to cloud nine. Which is not something that he wants right now, goddammit.

And he would backpedal on the spot, because this backfired really bad, but Hawks has already placed his marred hand over his, and is reaching up with his other one, too. The relatively undamaged right is placed over his bare arm and traces over the scarred-up skin.

“… Does it still hurt a lot?” Hawks asks then, examining the burns meticulously; the texture sends a small chill down his spine, forcing all remaining hair on his body to stand.

He lost sleep over thinking about this. It’s a little embarrassing… thinking about whether Dabi’s wounds hurt as much as his do, all of the time. Or how he took the news. Last thing he kind of remembers before waking up to numb aches is getting an ice layer cast over him by the youngest Todoroki, and all he knew after finally catching up on the news was that the villain managed to escape and was MIA. Honestly… he had just been worried and thinking about Dabi a lot.

… Okay, it’s very embarrassing. And alarming.

“Can’t feel much where it's like that,” he admits. Where gentle fingers run over dead skin, there's a ghost of a presence that the surviving nerves deep below give notice of. A hint of warmth, maybe. Nothing more. “Not now, nor when the stuff cracks and bleeds. What will hurt… are these spots,” he guides the man’s hand up to the staples over his wrist, then takes the same hand and rubs lazy circles over a healed-up spot. “Dead and live skin don’t get along well. They get pulled apart easily, especially if you are still growing… and shit swells and tears when you are not careful. But you’ve already seen that happen to me.” Having finished the vaguely educational monologue, he looks Hawks in the eyes. “It’s also bold of you to waltz into a cesspool like this one. The plague eats roast meat for breakfast, and I hear chicken’s his favourite.”

The last line revives the smile before it could fade, and he looks back at Dabi, too. “Aww, worried~?”

“Nah,” the villain replies with the corners of his mouth also creeping upwards. Hawks’ dulled senses don’t even register that he’s already in his face until it’s too late; “The plague is me.”

The kiss is tender, and lasts only a second or two; before the hero knows it, it’s already over. He blinks first, trying to decide whether he just hallucinated this under the influence of drugs, or it was a real-ass thing that just happened… then hides his mouth behind his free hand with a blushing face.

“… that was totally uncalled for,” he mumbles, trying not to sound whiny, while also trying his best to look as angry as possible. It’s entirely futile as he can’t get rid of the fully grown, shit eating grin, though. “I’m still running a fever, you know. This is not helping.”

Burning face and heart aside, a part of him feels bad about this. Even if nobody asked Dabi to do this. It’s as if he was using the situation for selfish gains.

“In that case, get your sorry ass back to the hospital or whatever, little phoenix,” Dabi purrs, giving another kiss on his temples once Hawks manages to look at him again. The villain lets go of the hand at last, but stays close, staring into the other’s eyes for a moment.

There it is again. That ‘more’ he saw in them back then. It’s stupid, yes… but Hawks would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy basking in the glint that’s so foreign to those eyes.

He doesn’t get much time to enjoy himself, as Dabi’s lips are already curling into an impish smile; “Then, once you resurrect from those ashes… maybe we could run a fever together, hmm?”

Hawks spends the next minutes cursing softly from behind both hands as his ears start burning up, too... and Dabi just laughs, not caring for the blood leaking from his face.

***

*old HDD processing noises* not that I’m particularly happy with it, but yeah, I think this is the first kiss I’ve ever written. hell, those may be even the first vaguely suggestive lines that are meant to be taken seriously that I’ve ever written. Hide yo wives, and hide yo husbands, this is the beginning, I’m going hog wild y’all

ps admit it… the half-assed summary had your expectations fooled

[fairyscribbles]

Cupcakes and Fangs - Horror House (Suho, pt. 3) [Chronicles of the Wolf series]

Hello Kiddos! Just a quick update before I go MIA again! I’ll answer to more asks tomorrow! ♥

If you need to refresh your memory, the last Junmyeon chapter is here!  If you like it, you can support it on ko-fi! ♥

-

Apparently, it could be very bad, you thought miserably as you jumped and screamed at another skeleton that rattled right in front of you.

Super bad.

You hopped away from the insane eyes that glowed at you from the darkness, figuring out which was worse - jumping on Junmyeon and him finding out that you lied about not being scared, or being so scared you end up looking even worse by passing out.

Your body seemed to decide on the latter because when the walls literally shook around you - makeshift bloodstained walls, as it was - you creeped as close as you could to Junmyeon and grabbed hold of his arm.

He turned to you with a raised eyebrow you could discern even in the dark. "You okay?"

Reluctantly, you shook your head, following him along as you passed a moaning girl in a white dress and keeping your eyes only as narrowly open as you needed for you to shadow after him.

You gasped when you felt him cover your clenched hands, patting them reassuringly as he urged you closer. "Don't worry. Come here."

He pushed you behind him, wrapping your arms around him from the back before holding them tight.

"J-Junmyeon!" You squeaked, but you couldn't dare to speak anything that would make him let you go. You just hoped the laws didn't work in here.

"Hey." A gruff voice came from behind a wall next to you and you squeaked, jumping up at its sound. Junmyeon squeezed your hands in comfort.

"That's a nice girl you have there." You buried your face in the back of Junmyeon's shirt, trying your best to think of happy places. Junmyeon's body shook with laughter.

"I know."

"I'll make you a deal- you throw her in this-" something suddenly swung open in front of you and you yelped. "Door, and I'll let you go. How about that?"

Junmyeon's eyes narrowed. "No thanks. I'm okay..."

"Ohh come on~" the voice hissed, and he felt you shiver against his back. "It'll be so much easier."

"Jun...myeon..."

He tried not to get too riled from the fear in your voice. Maybe if he just kept walking...

Junmyeon stroked your forearms in comfort before entwining your fingers with his to slowly quick up your pace. The faster you go, the quicker the two of you would be out there.

"Aaw, don't do this to me, man. You know how lonely I am? I promise I'll treat her right~..." Junmyeon couldn't help but laugh. As if he'd let some horror actor take his mate away from him.

"I'm relieved, but it's still a 'no'. I'm not giving her up that easy." He squeezed your arms in assurance as he led you past many horror props.

With each screeching actress that popped up, each moaning ghost you passed, and each pair of glowing scary eyes, you found yourself gripping Junmyeon's arms tighter. Ever so slowly, you crept even closer.

"J-Junmyeon..."

"Shh, I've got you," he said with a grin, leading you through a door that you really, really did not want to go through.

"No, no, no, no, let's not go through there!" You squealed, planting your soles into the ground and effectively stilling Junmyeon. He laughed, before he turned around.

"___. We have to go through there. It's the exit." He tried to reason with you calmly, but it didn’t work with you.

"B-but something will...definitely..."

"___." Your breath hitched when Junmyeon cupped your face and he tilted you up to look at him.

"There's nothing in this horror house that I can't protect you from. Believe me, the sooner we'll get out, the sooner we'll be able to do something more fun."

You whined softly, but Junmyeon just smiled and tucked your arms securely around his, his hand still patting yours for reassurance. "Come on. We're almost there."

You pressed yourself as close to him as you could. "O-okay."

You had to trust him. You had to.

And with that chant, your eyes shut tight and your head buried in Junmyeon's back, you were able to get past the last few feet of the horror house, where Junmyeon led you out through a rusty door that creaked with its every movement. You shielded your eyes from the sun, and reluctantly moved away from him because of the threat of the guard seeing you, and when he turned to look at you, you chuckled nervously.

"Well...I, for one, wasn't scared at all." You told him in an almost serious tone.

Junmyeon looked at you with his eyes big and wide for a long moment before he burst out into boisterous laughter. "Oh, really? So you were just holding on to me because..?"

Your smile was almost coy, something you weren't used to feel on your face.

"Maybe because you're nice to hold on to..."

Junmyeon's eyes slanted, and you almost wished you hadn't said it. Almost. Because soon after Junmyeon was smirking as well, and the look annoyingly attractive on him.

"Well you're more than welcome to do it anytime..."

Inwardly, you squeaked, but you were glad to be able to keep your composure on the outside, merely casting your eyes to the side and shrugging. "Maybe..."

Junmyeon laughed, shaking his head.

"Stop it. I heard about the prohibition, and you're making it impossibly hard for me to abide the rules." That made the butterflies in your tummy flutter. Oh god.

Was he this charming all the time?

"Come on. Would you like to go play some games? Or?" Junmyeon frowned when he looked at the setting sun.

"Night is coming. Maybe I should escort you home."

"No!" Your face went beet red. "I mean... n-no. There's still daylight left... If... you have nowhere else to be, that is..."

Junmyeon chuckled. "Are you kidding me? Somewhere more important than being with you?" He caught himself, and Junmyeon rubbed the back of his neck because maybe he was coming off a little too eager. But he was happy to see that you didn't seem to mind, if your embarrassed smile was anything to go by.

"Then... games..?"

And games it was. You passed every single stand, and at every single stand, Junmyeon won. He seemed to see every time your eyes twinkled as something caught your interest, and in the end, when the fair was closing up, you were walking home with a big teddy bear under your arm, Junmyeon holding the same one with ease on his shoulders, much like someone would carry a small child.

You walked slowly, your steps tiny. You didn't want this day to end. It was so perfect, you clicked with him so instantly you didn't want to part. You walked silently, side by side, close to each other but not close enough to touch. You were glad Junmyeon was holding onto the bear because otherwise his hand would be tantalizingly hanging at his side, tempting you to grab it.

Reluctantly, you slowed to a stop.

"Well...this is my house."

Junmyeon surveyed the outside of your place, smiling. "Looks nice."

You shrugged. "It's nothing spectacular, but it's home... So..."

Junmyeon turned to you, trying to hold his smile in place. "So... I guess, this is good night."

You couldn't help but giggle at the terminology. "Not goodbye?"

"Not unless you plan to never see me again." The thought actually had his smile fading quickly.

"Then good night it is," you murmured. "Thank you, Junmyeon."

"For what?"

"For tonight..."

Junmyeon smiled down at you, the soft curve of his lips making butterflies flutter in your stomach. With a big blush spreading over your cheeks, you looked around to see if the coast is clear.

No guards on patrol. The street was abandoned, save for the two of you.

And so you took the slight leap of faith and you reached up to kiss Junmyeon's cheek.

Junmyeon had no time to react. All he could do was bring a hand up to brush the tips of his fingers over the tingling part of his skin where his mate's lips had touched. Just briefly, too lightly.

You took a few cautionary steps back, face an adorably bright red. "Um..."

Junmyeon felt his smile expand, and he thought he could've rivaled Chanyeol's smile at this point.

"Thank you for the great time. I...really had fun." You spoke shyly, any other place seemed to be better to look at than Junmyeon at the moment.

"If this is what I get for taking you out, I might make it a daily custom." Junmyeon told you, trying hard to control his knees from bouncing up and down. Shit, he never felt more giddy in his life and when he saw the blush spread over your cheeks, he just wanted to litter kisses all over then.

'No, Junmyeon,' he reminded himself. 'Control.'

He had to resist, especially considering your town's open aversion to any affection in public places. He didn't want to get you in any trouble. So there was definitely no way he could grab you and shower you with kisses the way he wanted to. But he couldn't fight the other strong impulse. "When can I see you again?"

You faltered, then smiled. A small, unsure quirk of your lips. "You're sure you want that?"

Junmyeon nodded. "Of course."

His voice was so sure and also a little confused. As if he didn't understand why you thought he didn't want to see you again.

"Ah, well, I'm pretty sure you will be very busy with your trainings..." Junmyeon almost wanted to ask what trainings you were talking about, when it came back to his mind.

"Ah, don't worry about that. I'm sure I can find some time for you." He smiled and it made the butterflies flutter. Oh god, why was this man so perfect?

"O-oh...okay, well, next week there should be a new play...what do you think about going there on Friday?"

He smiled brilliantly. "Sounds great."

You gasped, like you'd expected him to refuse. "O-okay..!"

Junmyeon looked beyond your shoulder to your door, frowning. He didn't want to leave; he didn't want you to go inside. He wasn't ready for it to end just yet. And suddenly, he understood how Jongin felt before Yunyoung had agreed to marry him, how Sehun feels with Hyeri... and Jongdae, and Minseok.

God, how did they manage this?

"Well, I'll pick you up at seven?" Junmyeon asked, wiping his hands against his pants, as if it would cure the itch he felt to reach out for you, especially when you looked so freaking adorable and lovable. The day he finally gets to hold you for himself...he might actually just never let go.

"I think that's okay." You agreed with a small smile after thinking about it.

"It starts at eight, so that gives us just enough time." Junmyeon nodded and his heart clenched. Here it comes.

"Alright then. You should...probably head on inside..." he almost wanted to hit himself for telling you that.

"You need to rest." You nodded with a smile and a big blush across your cheeks and Junmyeon almost couldn't resist.

"Be sure to lock your doors, okay?"

You took the first reluctant step forward. "Okay..."

"Good night, ___..."

You stuck your key in the lock, turning the doorknob slowly and cracking the door just slightly. "Good night, Junmyeon..."

He smiled gently, watching you slip inside. Fighting hard with himself not to follow you in. "Good night..." he repeated uselessly.

He stood there until he heard that click of your lock, making sure you were safe. Knowing that his mate was so far from him, so alone...it made him really not want to go home.

Especially when he caught your scent. It was beautiful, full of freshness and everything he loved, but there was a shadow of something...sinister. Something that he not quite wanted to smell on you, but he did. Something that made you like this but he didn't know what and it was driving him crazy.

But he couldn't stay any longer. He felt the contacts dissolving in his eyes and if he got caught in front of your house, you'd become a suspect.

So with a heavy heart, he dragged himself away. He forced his feet to move, one in front of the other as he fought the urge to look back. He didn't want to leave. How was he supposed to leave?

With a grunt, he just gritted his teeth and took off at a run, not caring if he went just a bit too fast.

If he was gonna force himself to leave, it had to be quick.

How were Jongdae and Minseok doing this? For days even.

Another snarl ripped through his chest and the second he was out of the capitol, he ripped through his form and took off at a sprint, barely able to hold in the painful howl of an alpha leaving his mate alone.

[7fics]

Can I request a markjae wherein can I request a markjae wherein markjae: youngjae is a tourist who just arrived in los angeles and mark is the random skateboard guy he met and they would eventually develop feelings despite of language barriers. fluff :) thank you!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of suicide, probably rated pg-13

Author: Mia

Word Count: 5.5k+

A/N: So sorry for this completely veering away from the prompt because Youngjae speaks very fluent English and he’s also a catboy??? for reasons unknown. And also Angst alert. But there’s some fluff as well so I hope that makes up for it. :3

august nights in los angeles are the reason why mark hasn’t moved down to chicago like tyler is always pressuring him to. sure, he misses his best friend of over six years and would like nothing more than to kick it with him on the daily. but it’s the warm breeze blowing across his front porch, tickling the leaves and making them rustle, the taps and crunch of his penny board rutting over smooth sidewalk, and the umami smell that always hits him in the face when he rolls past tj’s skinny dump, the best place for chinese-korean fusion this side of seventh street, that anchors him here. he wouldn’t trade this feeling, the feeling of waking up to home and going asleep to home and being home, for anything in the world.

he usually takes a quick ride after a heavy night of studying to drain the caffeine from his system and wind down enough to get some type of quality of sleep. good or bad, that’s up to the tides and the moon and black magic because it’s finals week and rest comes around in short, clumsy spurts when the exhaustion finally does his ass in.

mark hits up his neighborhood convenience store for some ramen and monster, truly staples of his diet. he microwaves the ramen in some water and stirs in the soup packet, stuffing noodles in his mouth with some chopsticks as he gurgles out a goodbye to the store’s owner mr. den, a wrinkled vietnamese man of sixty-two with a drinking problem and swearing addiction. nevertheless, mr. den fixes his green polo shirt with a rough hand and waves with the other, always a nice dude as long as no one’s asking for any trouble.

the block mark lives on has a reputation of being that ‘rowdy frat block’; true to the rumors, parties happen on a bi-weekly basis, more often during festive seasons, but regular enough as it is. on a good day, they end in some sick-covered laundry to do and booting of wasted stragglers. fortunately, kappa alpha theta is the preferred spot to throw the craziest rangers, as they are sponsored by one of the members’ insanely rich parents and have a huge swimming pool and alcohol bar. parties occasionally break out at delta tau delta and run into the deep night, but they never make campus news for being the best or greatest. which is okay with mark because he gets to sleep in his own bed most nights and rarely faces sick cleanup duty.

even so, parties or any social gathering of any kind are almost unheard of during finals week. the same week responsible, capable students are reviewing for their exams, party-addicted knuckleheads are blowing their brains out to get something done, and in-betweeners like mark are working moderately hard, not sweat inducing, life contemplatively hard, but hard. with the brain and instincts mark has, pursuing a journalism major and korean minor, he finds a nice ratio of him working it and it working him.

this all said, the streets are usually a ghost town by this hour. which is why he finds a hunched body trembling in the orange glow of the streetlight more than an oddity. some part of his brain is urging him to ignore it. superhero mark is nice and all in the daylight, but a creepy dude under a streetlight past midnight is psychopath serial killer territory. he has some exams in the next few days that he probably needs to be alive to take. but another part is telling him, as he gets closer and hears the quiet sniffling coming from the figure, that he doesn’t look like a serial killer at all. if he is, either he’s a real good one, or mark is a damn sucker, or both.

even if mark wants to pass him up, just feet from his house, almost at the finish line, the guy’s shoulders shaking and his endless crying has mark slowing his steps and eventually stopping right where he is.

against all his better judgement, mark says, “hey, you alright man?”

the guy, boy really, once he lifts his head and mark gets a good luck at his soft features and young face, looks up. his glassy eyes find mark in the dusty glimmer of the light and mark sucks in a heavy, important breath as he discerns a current of fear so thick it nearly shocks him. he hopes this isn’t some trick serial killers use to get their victims to soften up, because mark is falling for it, hard.

but what really hits mark like a frigid ocean wave is the velvet, auburn ears twitching softly in his equally dark hair and the matching tail flicking languidly behind him. he’s a catboy. mark’s never met one before. it’s kinda cool. but the situation itself overshadows the revelation.

the young catboy has a bulging backpack weighing on his shoulders, his entire life probably inside, along with a black suitcase on wheels that he’s using as an impromptu seat. if jaebum hadn’t schooled jackson on the finite differences in physiology of the east asian races, after the ladder let his ignorance slip (something not to be done in jaebum’s company) and mark hadn’t been suffering through every waking minute of it with a dead phone battery and no fake appointment to excuse himself to, he wouldn’t be able to tell that this guy looks korean as hell. and by the ‘america rocks’ button pinned to his thin jacket and the sadness in his pretty eyes, mark can tell he’s a tourist that’s having a strike of very bad luck. to mark, los angeles is his home. but to this poor guy it’s a jungle of unfamiliarity and he must be scared shitless.

that’s gotta suck.

“i’m lost,” he admits finally in a heavy accent. mark shouldn’t be thinking that it’s cute and melting a little because he’s still not out of the danger zone. he could be carrying murder tools in his backpack, it’s definitely big enough.

“and they stole my money,” he adds miserably in elaboration. “i have no money, and i’m lost. i’m stupid.”

“you’re not stupid,” mark can’t help but say, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand holding his black plastic bag, fingers looped through the handles. “uh, what’s your name?”

the guy clears his throat, sucking up his sniffles. “youngjae. choi youngjae.”

“nice to meet you, youngjae. i’m mark.” don’t tell him your last name, idiot. i swear for the love of all that’s good and pure, don’t- “mark tuan.” he points behind him, kind of guessing the direction so he has his eyes on youngjae, gauging his comprehension of the situation. “that’s my frat over there. since you don’t have money, you can crash there tonight and we can figure things out in the morning. what do you say, youngjae?”

youngjae looks troubled, uncomfortable. “how do i know you’re not going to harvest my organs and sell them on the black market?”

mark is equal parts amused and deeply mortified. “american television is crap. it’s all crap, okay? read books, youngjae. i promise not to harvest your organs and sell them on the black market. so come, yeah? i’d hate to have you sitting out here because i can guarantee i’m the nicest person you’ll encounter in downtown la in the middle of the night.”

youngjae’s eyebrows furrow in thought. he casts one long glance at the street before turning back to the hand mark has out stretched to him, a very transparent question: risk it for a cool bed or play it safe and end up roaming downtown la in the dead of night, susceptible to god knows what? for some reason, when youngjae takes mark’s hand and allows him to pull him up, he gets a weird sense of accomplishment, as if youngjae hadn’t just chose short-time survival over very possible long-term suffering.

“let me get that.” mark pulls up the handle of youngjae’s suitcase and rolls it alongside them as they walk, closing the distance between the street and the house with each anticipated step. mark has clocked out his good deed meter and is ready for some blissful, air-conditioned sleep. again, up to the moon and the tides and good ole’ black magic. but nobody can tell him not to dream.

“why are you out here, youngjae?” mark asks curiously as they step through the front gate, barb wire swinging closed with a clink and clack, whining like the antique it is.

“america is very beautiful,” youngjae says wistfully, slight smile visible underneath the porch light as it hums to life. “i’ve read about america in books as a child. the land of opportunity. i never thought i’d get to go. then my mother committed suicide just a month ago. i dropped out of university and worked full time at a cafe, saving money to come here. looks like i’m back at square one.” his coy smile doesn’t hide the tsunami of pain roaring in his eyes, suddenly too much for mark as he looks away.

“i’m sorry...uh, about your mom,” he mutters uselessly. “i’m sure she’s in heaven.”

“or hell,” youngjae blurts out unceremoniously. “suppose you go to hell for that sort of thing. or purgatory. maybe she’s there.”

all other generic, commercialized words of condolence burn at the back of mark’s throat, dying right where they are, cold, metallic niceties that slide down as heavy as iron and drop resolutely into his gut. he coughs out a meaningless “yeah”, like he gets it. he doesn’t.

this is weird.

they walk inside. as jackson is the only one with a car, there’s no way to tell if the others are home. mark’s quiet anyway. always is.

“this is the living room,” he says, and flips a table lamp on. light blooms in the crowded space. the black, suede pull-out couch is swimming in clothes, a mixture of clean and not. empty cans of monster and beer litter the squat coffee table, rings of moisture already leaving their presence on this little piece of the earth where jackson lives to irk mark’s patience. he always tells that slob to get tidy or get out. of course since mark holds no ownership over the house he’s a little out of his jurisdiction to call those types of shots, so jackson mostly ignores him. but he still says it and occasionally jackson likes to play human, doing human things like having some dignity and not crapping where he eats.

mark points to the darkened room right off the living room, left of the staircase, “kitchen”, and then to the room left of that one, “first floor bathroom. help yourself to anything in the kitchen as long as you clean up. i hate messes because no one cares enough to fret but me. need anything and i’ll be upstairs, preferably sleeping but probably not.”

for the first time since he’s seen him, youngjae actually smiles. not a tight grin or nervous twitch of his lips, but a real smile. the kind of smile that is raw and panic inducing and something mark wants to lock in a box forever.

“thanks, mark.” youngjae drops his backpack on the floor and goes over to the couch. mark regains his senses in time to run over and knock all of the clothes on the floor, pulling out the couch into a bed and dragging some pillows and a comforter from the surrounding furniture to make it look somewhat like a decent place to sleep and not just a filthy couch stained with caffeine and virginity.

“no problem.” he waits awkwardly as youngjae toes out of his shoes and lies his jacket aside in quiet task, content.

“do you need some sleep clothes?” mark asks, surveying youngjae’s remaining cotton graphic tee and blue jeans.

youngjae smiles meekly. “would it be trouble?”

“not at all. wait here, okay?” mark goes up the stairs, all nervous and jittery for some reason. he bangs around oafishly in his black room for a few minutes, not having the sense to turn on some light as he focuses on finding youngjae something comfortable to sleep in. he finally decides on some green basketball shorts and a plain white sleeveless shirt.

this is weird, mega weird. he’s letting a stranger sleep in his house, wear his clothes. jaebum’s gonna chew him out for this. it’s almost not worth the headache. he goes back downstairs and hands youngjae the stuff.

“thanks.” youngjae does that thing again where he smiles and mark doesn’t know what to do with the raw and genuine sensation.

“yeah, sure.” oh, jaebum’s definitely gonna chew him out.

he goes back up to his room and collapses in his bed. whatever happens in the morning is for the morning. the caffeine cleanse apparently worked, as he passes out much sooner than expected.

                                                  *   *   *   *

“yo, tuan!”

mark rolls over in his bed, groaning at the bomb of luminescence bathing his room in unrepentant shine, unamused. if jaebum didn’t haunt his dreams on a regular enough basis he wouldn’t be doubting his actual presence. but after a door--his door--slams open, mark groans again, but no longer doubts that the real jaebum is in his room, and angry for some reason lost to his drowsy conscious.

“tuan, i swear to god-”

“jaebum,” mark says in a mock conversational tone, sitting up and kicking his thin sheet off his legs, blinking his eyes open slowly. “to what do i owe this unexpected visit?”

“i could say the same,” jaebum grits out, livid. “what’s a stranger doing on my couch?”

that’s when the gears get spinning and mark looks over at his seething friend, who has what he remembers to be youngjae’s bag gripped roughly in one hand, the other screwed on his hip in impatience. mark understands why he’s mad, knows there’s a dude sleeping on their couch who could still be a serial killer despite his completely disarming smile and shy tendencies. but he’s not one to lose to jaebum.

so he says, “you mean our couch?” even if just to save face.

as expected, jaebum is less than amused at the quip. “i’ll give you two seconds to talk, dumpling face. who is that guy?”

mark stands up finally, and shivers off the rest of his sleep. he refuses to flinch at jaebum’s unrelenting glare. “his name is youngjae. he’s a kid from korea, and he got mugged last night, so i let him sleep here. i couldn’t just leave him outside so something worse could happen to him, jaebum. that’s just cruel.”

jaebum visibly softens, the grip on youngjae’s bag handle loosening and his stare melting a bit, not as hot and unforgiving as before. “he understood you?”

“yeah.” mark shrugs. “he speaks perfect english.”

“dammit, mark.” jaebum’s frustrated more than mad now, which really is an approvement. “you couldn’t be your normal nonchalant i-don’t-a-flying-fajita self?”

“flying fajita?” mark stage whispers.

“whatever.” jaebum waves him off, tossing him the bag which mark catches easily. “take care of it. if he’s going to be staying indefinitely, i want some background info.”

“got it.” mark nods firmly.

“you’re just a regular ole’ clark kent,” jaebum grumbles to himself all the way to his room, closing the door and leaving mark standing in his open doorway with youngjae’s bag and at a loss for what to do next. he loops the bag over one shoulder and pads down to the living room. his fear of youngjae possibly being awake to suffer jaebum’s wrath and feel all unwanted is dissipated when he sees that youngjae is still in deep sleep, half of his face buried in the pillow, softly twitching ears and rising back the only sign of movement. he then sneaks a peek over at the den adjacent to the living room. jackson is knocked out, pacified in slumber by some beer that reeks its way all the way over here.

mark crinkles his nose and moves closer to youngjae, dropping the bag softly as he takes a tentative seat at the sleeping boy’s feet, gazing curiously at his peaceful face. youngjae looks so young that mark is immediately guilty for some reason. he has these soft looking, peach-hued lips and a cute nose. being able to stare so intently, mark also notices a beauty mark under his left eye--well, mark’s left, but youngjae’s right. he’s very pretty; so pretty that mark is lost in him, only aware that he’s being just a bit creepy when those sweet eyes blink open and fix him a perplexed stare.

“uh, sorry.” mark backs up, actually blushing like some chastised schoolgirl. youngjae barely responds, still mostly sleep, only blinking curiously at mark so blankly that mark is forced to ask his next question. “how old are you, youngjae?”

“18,” youngjae says sleepily, rubbing his eyes and fixing to sit up. he’s a baby, mark thinks solemnly to himself.

“you graduated early?” mark asks after remembering some stuff jaebum told him about the age of university in korea being 20 instead of 18 like in the states. he smiles. “you must be smart.”

“dumb enough to get robbed,” youngjae answers cynically. mark’s smile vanishes. he doesn’t know what to say to follow that up. move on.

“do you know anyone out here?” mark asks. “anyone you can call, or ask for a favor?”

“it was really a whim decision,” youngjae admits sheepishly. “i hated being in that apartment by myself. everything reminds me of her. her clothes, her bills, her favorite spot on the couch. everything smells like her.”

mark is really at a true loss when youngjae becomes visibly shaken, choking up on his words and eyes watering. if mark is good at anything, it’s giving people space and letting the dust settle. but he can’t exactly leave youngjae while he’s on the brink of crying, doesn’t want to leave him. he wants to hug him and whisper hushed comforts until he stops crying and making mark feel like an unfeeling ogre as he continues to sit by and do nothing.

who has he let into his house?

“youngjae,” mark says gently, biting his lip in awkward anticipation. “come here.”

youngjae looks up at him then, glassy eyes the same ones that had warped him the night before when mark first saw him, sitting like a sad puppy on the curb and waiting for a sucker like mark to stroll by. his bottom lip is trembling a little, and mark cracks at that. youngjae inspects mark’s open arms for a moment, not too sure what to do with him, and then, to mark’s bittersweet triumph, actually crawls into them.

youngjae sits cross-legged next to him, head cushioned on mark’s shoulder as the man rubs his back, hating the hiccups and shivers that rattle through him. mark’s never been the most clever or timely with words, so he keeps his mouth shut until youngjae calms some time after, shoulders stilling and crying fading into the early morning birds’ orchestra.

“i’m sorry,” youngjae whispers in a quiet rasp. “you don’t even know me. i don’t know you. but look what i’m doing in your house. i really am stupid for coming here. you know, the really sad thing is i realize that after i’ve had my money stolen and have no way to get back. i’m an idiot. i’m so stupid. i’m the biggest dummy-”

he’s knocking his knuckles against his temple so hard that mark worries he’ll crack something, and he swoops in to grab his wrist impulsively. the boy looks up at him quizzically.

“you’ll hurt yourself,” mark answers his unasked question. “and you’re not stupid. you’re grieving. you can stay here as long as you need, or want. as long as you want.”

youngjae smiles finally. “you’re really nice, hyung.”

mark stiffens unintentionally. “hyung?”

“is that not okay?” youngjae sits up in a flash, face suddenly contorted in panicked apology. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to. it’s just, i’m pretty sure you’re older than me. is it weird? should i just call you mark?”

“no, no, no.” mark laughs. “hyung is okay.”

youngjae’s smile returns, and mark knows it’s gonna be the end of him one day.

that’s when jackson’s loud grunt breaks through the peaceful silence, taking youngjae’s attention, something mark didn’t think he would mind until now (because he does).

“jesus fu-”

“idiot.” jaebum comes skipping skipping down the stairs with a joyful smirk, books ladening his arms and backpack slung on his shoulder. he looks much happier than about ten minutes ago. he must have a stash of chocolate in his room. mark wouldn’t put it past him.

“who’s this?” jackson’s irritated frown turns into a curious smile at the sight of youngjae. he’s looking at him the way the man looks at anyone he’s preparing to swoon, and for some reason mark is ready to spring between them because of it. he doesn’t, though. they just met. mark has no claim over this beautiful catboy named youngjae.

that would be weird.

“youngjae,” mark says a bit sullenly, already resigned to this quiet fate. “he flew from korea.”

“i didn’t fly,” youngjae interjects, looking over at mark.

“bus then…?”

“some very nice men and women drove me here,” youngjae says vaguely. mark’s eyebrows pinch.

“you hitchhiked?” mark’s voice raises before he has any control over it, almost hysterical in that instant. “youngjae, that’s so dangerous. you can’t just trust anyone. strangers are off limits, okay?”

“you’re a stranger,” youngjae says cheekily, a very clear smile on his face. mark is disarmed for a very long second, again at a loss for what to do with youngjae. this strange catboy who is lying on his pullout couch, apparently an orphan (though he’s not sure about his dad, maybe that’s too personal though). he doesn’t know what to do with any of it.

“i don’t count,” mark says after a long time.

“okay.” youngjae shrugs indifferently, faint smile still etched on his lips.

                                              *    *    *    *

somehow, mark is able to convince jaebum that youngjae is not a serial killer, despite his own doubts, and he has agreed to let him stay indefinitely. youngjae has his own special magic. maybe it was between the behind-ear-scratches and the content purring; regardless, jaebum and jackson are both infatuated. jackson is more vocal, but when is jackson not more vocal in general?

mark is happy. he really is. but he has no idea what he’s doing at all. youngjae seems fine, most of the times. he’s smiling and munching on jaebum’s secret stash of chocolate (which jaebum doesn’t mind at all, the discrimination!) and being all obliviously cute as he floats around in mark’s slightly too big clothes like everything’s hunky dory.

(it’s not.)

then he’s crying quietly in a corner of the bathroom before startling as mark purposely clears his throat, feigning ignorance as he stomps inside to throw a thin greeting his way.

he thinks they have built up a system that isn’t perfect, but functions somewhat smoothly. youngjae vents to himself, and mark intrudes after some time to keep him from drowning in his own anguish. it’s good. it’s a good system.

then the systems breaks about a week after that.

one day mark actually does walk in on him as he’s crying far too quietly to even be picked up. mark doesn’t even notice him until he’s halfway in his room, shirt already off and hand digging around in his drawer for something less sweaty.

their ac’s old and uncooperative sometimes.

youngjae is wrapped up in mark’s blankets despite the increasing wave of heat blowing through the house, lasting as long as the ac decides to spazz. his ears are flattened against his fluffy hair and he looks so small and sad that a piece of mark dies. the older’s puny desire to hurriedly pull on another shirt to cover his bare torso is disintegrated under the need to move closer to youngjae. which he does.

his shirt is dropped somewhere on the floor on his way to the bed.

“hyung,” youngjae sniffles quietly, big, pretty eyes full of tears.

“do you want me to leave?” mark asks stagnantly. he doesn’t want to at all. but if youngjae says so then he will.

“no.” youngjae shakes his head while looking all vulnerable and hurt. mark slides in next to him, pulling him instinctively into his lap without fretting if this is too intimate. youngjae wraps around him. the top of his head slots perfectly against mark’s warm throat and the little breaths he’s blowing from his nose tickle the skin there. the boy’s tail floats down across mark’s thigh and coils loosely.

“your mom?”

“my mom.”

“what was she like?”

“sometimes she was mean to me,” youngjae breathes unsteadily, wet cheeks signalling to mark that he’s crying again, or more, since he never really stopped before. “she called me mean names and hit me. dissociative identity disorder, the doctors called it. it’s like she had more people than just her living in her head. sometimes she was really nice. she baked my favorite cookies and rocked me to sleep. then she was being mean again,  pulling my tail and tugging my ears until i was so dizzy that i passed out. when i woke up she would often be crying with a new batch of cookies in the oven. she was my best friend and my worst enemy.”

“youngjae, i’m--uh, youngjae--”

“you don’t have to say anything, hyung,” youngjae whispers. “can you please just hold me?”

so marks shuts his mouth, which is the best decision he’s ever made in his life, and holds youngjae in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. he’s not sure if that’s okay at all. but youngjae purrs like he does when he really likes something, and so mark doesn’t apologize about it.

                                               *    *    *    *   

taking him sightseeing had been made a thing with jaebum’s offhanded suggestion and youngjae’s enthusiastic approval of the idea. he sees how youngjae slugs around the house in boredom, pressed thin between the thoughts of his mother, which are so obvious mark can almost drown in them along with him, and youngjae’s own restlessness.

mark is more than apprehensive about it all because as much as the right side of la can be a  plethora of all good things; the bad side can be the complete opposite.

even though mark doesn’t mind seeing youngjae walk around in his clothes, small frame swallowed by the fabric, loves it actually, he would rather other people never have the pleasure. he takes the boy shopping at a high-quality and wallet friendly shop in the mall as a segue to the afternoon leg of their downtown adventure.

the morning had been a rush of breakfast, window shopping, and youngjae touching everything they passed, never letting a single thing go without mulling over it first, endlessly excited and curious and so new to everything. mark thinks he’ll fall asleep to youngjae’s voice going ‘what’s this?’ and ‘what’s that?’ and ‘is that what this thing does?’ because he’s heard it enough to absorb the sweetly pitched tones into his bloodstream. as if he needs anymore of youngjae running through his system than there already is.  

“hyung!” youngjae tugs his arm and drags him over to a shop after they’re done picking out a few bags of nice, cheap clothes that should get youngjae by for at least a few weeks, paired with items from mark’s wardrobe since he won’t ever get over seeing youngjae wear his clothes.

mark isn’t partial to shops with ‘pink’ or ‘stuffed’ in the name just because those things creep him out. also, his sisters used to force him into dresses and makeup when he wasn’t old enough to toddle away by himself, so the trauma’s still there. he’ll brave if for youngjae, though.

he’d brave so many things for youngjae.

“isn’t this one cute?” youngjae holds up this bear thing with freakishly huge eyes and the cheesiest smile mark has ever seen. it’s this pastel purple color that makes the older’s skin crawl. it’s not only cute, but creepily so. killer china doll cute.

“yeah…” mark lies uncomfortably, trying to appease youngjae’s smile with a tight grin. “really cute.”

“you hate it.” youngjae drops the thing with a sigh. his eyes search around quickly after that, widening in delight when he sees something else he likes. he rushes over and mark trudges along behind him.

“what about this one?” he holds up a baby blue pikachu with white blushing cheeks. it’s actually cute and doesn’t look like something he’d open his eyes to at 2am trying to harvest his insides. because mark tends to be as easy to read as black and white print, his approval spills out onto his face and youngjae beams.

mark actually gets the thing because his tight wallet becomes a little looser with youngjae giving him these pretty pouty eyes and pushing his bottom lip out like the sun will stop shining or water will stop being wet if he doesn’t get this blue fuzz thing with the white cheeks, ears twitching something furious.

they have a pair of burgers and fries at the food court before leaving for their next stop. mark won’t forget how youngjae looks at everything like it’s earth’s saving grace, can’t forget how the sweet kitty touches everything with an innocent wonder and amusement not easily replicated by hands that have touched and eyes that have seen and chests that have burned for reasons beside the scorching love for one’s love lost.

the original plan had been to catch the fireworks at six, grab some snack to take home, and be done with their adventure. however, mark’s perfectly scheduled conclusion to their day is derailed when youngjae stops him as they’re walking over to the park, pointing excitedly at a crowd of people huddled around something. upon wandering closer, mark recognizes this man as the one that usually sets up his street magic a few blocks from his house and amuses groups with tricks difficult enough to entertain the average person, but simple enough that mark was able to memorize them in just a month after a dumb bet with jackson that cost him time better spent. he’s not at all impressed, but youngjae is engrossed, gasping generously enough for the man to come closer and let him get a better look at some tricks.

“is it that fun, youngjae?” mark asks with an easy grin, never not fascinated by how the kitty manages to find boundless excitement in the near mundane.

“look at that!” is youngjae’s enthused reply, eyes sparkling and hands mimicking the man’s motions sloppily, completely focused. that’s when mark thinks to himself, infatuated beyond belief, that if spring were a person, it’d be youngjae. he has such a fresh attitude; that paired with his teeming exuberance and virginal glee towards most of anything has mark swooning, falling so hard he’ll need someone to scrape him off of where’s melted in a puddle for this sweet, pretty catboy with bright eyes and a childishly pure trust in others.

dammit, dammit, dammit.

as they’re walking home mark is internally pleased at how they can still still see the fireworks from across the lake and youngjae is ‘oohing’ and ‘ahing’ again as if he has the sole power to see everything in existence through rose-colored glasses. he wants to ask youngjae how he’s feeling about his mom and just talk to him to see if he’s still hurting because mark gets sappy at the curling at dusk when the warm wind is whistling past his ears and making everything loose and quietly blissful. he also wants to press him into his chest and kiss his cute, squishy face until everything else loses all meaning. the only concrete necessity being youngjae cradled in mark’s arms.

none of these things come to pass because youngjae slips his hand in mark’s and the older forgets how to breathe momentarily, exhaling when he needs to inhale and almost passing out before he gets the hang of it again. he spares a sideways glance in the kitty’s direction to see his tail swaying happily in the breeze and a soft smile on his clear, bright face.

not to be dramatic or anything, but it’s a smile that could cure the world of all of its impurities.

“can i stay with you?”

mark startles at youngjae’s honey-slick voice, staring down at him more focused. he must look like a puppy on a leash, but he’s okay with it being youngjae who’s seeing him like this, will always be.

“can i stay with you, hyung? for a long time?” he asks again, tightening his grasp on mark’s hand just the slightest and blinking up at him like this is all he needs. mark doesn’t even need to think, doesn’t care about the implications or strings attached because it’s youngjae.

“for a long time.”

and he really fucking means it.

[ohmikon]

r e a d y

words - 1787 pairing - june + “she” music - cinnamon genre -  slice of life

e l e n a - I’ve been hit by some June’s vibes today and since I finally managed to have a break from uni, here it is! Also sorry for being MIA, I’ll have my exams super soon and it’s still priority number one.

If you want to request anything, just ask. xx

_____________

Hands in the pockets of his ripped, washed out jeans, June found himself walking all alone in the cold streets of the city. His thoughts kept wandering in the dull grey sky as if the answer to his heartfelt dilemma would suddenly appear, rays of an hopeful sun gracing his gloomy mood.

“we need to talk” He sent to her in a hurry, restraining himself from overthinking like he usually would, before he could regret his decision. One second he was convinced that it was the smartest choice he ever made, the other doubts invaded his mind, troubling his judgement.

“we need to talk” He imagined her reaction as her eyes layed upon the text message during the supposedly relaxing break she got from her work at the tiny coffee shop. What if she frowned in confusion the more the letters printed themselves in her brain, slowly figuring out the things at stakes at that precise moment ? What if he had waited way too long to speak out his true opinion, wrongly sheltering both of them under a roof made of hypocrisy and void argument ?

As he was ultimately parting ways with the suffocating crowd mindlessly running around, he sat down on what used to be their favourite bench with a clear goal in mind, eventually grasping the harsh truth : he was about to put a final end to a book they started together, and there were no turning back now. 

His back resting on the uneven hood of the bench and a jaded stare locked on the agitation of the city, June questionned why in this sea of joy he was feeling so empty.

Emotions felt like a distant memory, hitting him so rarely these days as if the shift button remained blocked on off, abandoning him in a frightening and immense room - the exact same in which he used to store every bit of memory.

The beaming grin plastered on his chubby face the first time he got to ride a bicycle. The abrupt craving that invaded his every thought the first time he stumbled upon his friend’s old blues’ cds, the music calming his insecurities and igniting a devouring passion. The destructive sorrow that followed him everywhere he went after his grandfather’s death, as if his ghost was haunting him to punish him for staying at home all  alone, breaking down in tears instead of bulding up the courage needed to go to the funerals.

Every single one of his firsts added a new brick to the never-ending wall, a magnificent but old wall covered of pretty drawings, heartfelt lyrics, unforgettable faces and blurry places. He loved to gaze at it, back in the day when his life seemed to have a meaning. For hours he used to reminisce about the most trivial things - the most breathtakingly beautiful details of the piece of art his past was, spread all over the wall of his memory.

He felt hollow and the rare times sadness suddenly decided to kick in, he gladly welcomed it because if he could still feel, it meant that he was still alive - although he would have claimed that all he ever did was wasting time.

Wasting time contemplating his insignificant life, selfishly considering his childish issues as high priority problems. He had friends, a family, health, money and even a roof on rainy days and cold nights to warm his heart. So why did he have the impression of dying, when everything around him was desperate to revive him ?

In the middle of a deserted land on which only survived a frozen flowerbed, she came in just like a spring breeze. Unexpectedly sneaking her way to his figure, playfully tickling the side of his cheek before she mercilessly sent shivers down his back.

Alike to an antique divinity she was a blessing in disguise, fire burning bright in her intimidating eyes, carrying daggers around her belt, never once letting you know that they were actually wrapped around healing herbs. She was your 21st century’s warrior as well as savior, daggers nowadays replaced by cutting words, bittersweet at first but eventually illuminating the end of the tunnel.

He couldn’t remember the exact date, his recollection quick to turn into hazy, colourful fragments anytime he would travel back in time, seeking the agreeable and comforting scene. “I like you” Rolled out of her tongue while fixing her determined and sincere stare upon his confused dark eyes. She was the first girl who ever confessed to him, gaining control over him like no other could.

June was an explosion, the scene of a volcano in eruption stucked on replay mode until the end of times. His confidence burst out of nowhere and forced itself into your sight, his spite fully on display anytime nonsensical theories made their path to his ears, his shocking beauty leaving you no time to adapt or fake calm.

June always had the upper hand over everyone, not that he was one of those spoiled kids who randomly decided to place a fourteen karat crown over their tiny heads, he was just the alpha male of the pack - behind everyone, guiding them from afar.

She ruined every single one of his certainties, showing his reluctant self an entire new world of its own, wild and free from any boundaries. “The great escape will wait for us. When you’re ready, we’ll discover it together.” She kept on promising for the past year, reassuring him in making sure he knew that she would stay by his side even though he still wasn’t ready to embrace the unknown, throwing his settled routine away for the thrill of foreign languages and unreal landscapes.

She was the first to break through the tough facade, to distinguish the slight crack every now and then, catching the sparkle to the side of his eyes signalling that he was troubling to hold back the tears - his pride swallowing them whole in the end.

She was the first to hold his hand in public when rumours started to spread and negativity infected their previously safe and private bubble. They threw cruel words at them just like rocks flying in the air, aiming at their principles.

“You’re a diamond in the rough, you’re unbreakable.” She murmured so low that only June could hear, it was meant to him and nobody else - meant to melt the barriers still preventing his heart to accept that it was real.

That the dark and twisted and pitiful world inside of which he, more times than once, viewed himself as worthless was solely existing in his head. In her reality he was the most fascinating creature put on Earth, feding her never-ending curiosity, solving the puzzle of her soul with the last missing piece : his.

Every single one of his firsts added a new brick to the never-ending wall, a magnificent but old wall covered of pretty drawings, heartfelt lyrics, unforgettable faces and blurry places. Until the only things remaining and entirely taking over the surface were the letters of her name, forever carved in his memory. Only them could light up the minuscule spark of hope inside of the empty room he trapped himself in.

Only her presence could be strong enough to eat his demons alive, her honesty loud enough to erase the brutal silence of his solitude.

“we need to talk” What if he was ready to wave goodbye to his dull past, the same that couldn’t awaken the slightest flame of joy dancing in his eyes anymore, embracing brighter tomorrows and burrying bitter yesterdays ?

She came in just like the slow rise of the dawn, the sun barely gracing his dry skin, marking the end of the night. Just like an awaited revival gradually spreading through every cell of his body, putting to rest the illness poisoning his heart.

The more the sun rose - the closer her hasty silhouette got to his tired entity - the brighter the view became - the wider his smile stretched.

No word, no hesitation, no idea what he was doing until his arms ended up resting over her shoulders, tenderly brushing her neck, his head awkwardly turned to the side - red cheeks from the burning love her sight awaken.

He already knew what was coming. He was standing in the eye of the hurricane, protected from the agitation of the city, helpless in front of the seductive yet dangerous mocking grin slowly forming to the sides of her lips - the one he fell for in the first place, an endless fall through pinky skies and floaty clouds.

“I can’t breathe.” She faked an irritated tone, not even once trying to get out from his tighten grip. From the touch he couldn’t manage to offer her all these monhs ago, coyness stopping him from taking the blissful jump, the one that releases you from the errors you’ve made and the suffering others put you through.

She knew exactly what was coming. Her entity was worn out from the constant stress and negativity spread by internet strangers, faking indifference every time her name was stained by hatred. She was out of breath from running endlessly, trying to escape from the misery they showered her with. So he took it upon himself to share the burden their relationship sometimes became, gently pressing his lips against hers - slowly cupping her heart in his hands, providing her a healing touch.

They were floating on cloud nine. Each other's breath became a new source of oxygen : every time their lips parted, it was like holding your breath in hopes to get saved again. They were the King and Queen of their own little world, suspended from the infinite skies, mimicking their eternal love.

“I’m ready.” He breathed out with ease and just like that, the excruciating weight crashing upon his heart got lifted six billions of kilometres from his reach.

Ready for countless hours spent under a starry sky. Ready for the moving kindness of people living in poverty but still accepting you in their home, teaching you that happiness always came from the little things. Ready for the strangest food’s experiments, disgust written all over his face and her laughter resonating in a little too chic restaurant. Ready to get lost on so-called road trips, ending up in the middle of a desert or a forest, stubbornly pushing the broke down car in vain.

Ready to love unconditionally, burning the doubts and what ifs, walking upon the ashes of a half lived past to say “hello” to an exciting beginning - her turning into an artist that paint their new path to a wild serenity.

_____________

thank you so much for reading, love you!

ps ; I may or may not do a part 2 or a drabble about their little adventures. ♡

[papermoth-bird-blog]

Ontario: Toronto the not-so-terrible-afterall.

When asked where I am from, I have varied answers. Not, because I am confused, but because mind my races with what is true for the version of myself I am speaking from. These days, I usually respond with Halifax, though that is not strictly true. I mean, it is true, when speaking to people from outside the province. My adulthood, my current nature, is a direct result of having spend the last 7 years on the eastern coastline. For someone who has come-from-away, I have sunken pretty thoroughly into that identity. Alas, I wasn’t born on the coast. 

I was born in the big city of Toronto, Ontario- an east-end girl. The Danforth, Riverdale park, the farm, the beaches. That was my childhood. I experienced a lot of trauma growing up (which I won’t go into here) which has always stained even the happiest memories associated with this city. Making it extremely difficult for me to come back here. I haven’t been home for Christmas in a couple years, I really haven’t been back for more than a week in 6 years. And yet, there it is, I still call it home- though in a very small voice that rarely escapes these days. That concept is so utterly wrapped in fear for me- the centre of capitalism, the place where I am triggered the most, the place where I had always felt most small in the world. 

It was in Mexico, that those thoughts started to unravel. Katie stopped me in the midst of a thought spiral about “going back to Toronto”. She said, something helpful for me, might be re:phrasing my travels to Ontario- “Stop saying ‘going back to’, just saying ‘going to’”. It’s true, the words you unleash on the world act as spells. They create our reality in the fundamental way they fill in the narrative that we (whether we realize it or not) are writing about our lives. And, I found my own narrative become undone, by a simple shift in prospective. 

Suddenly, I was going “to Toronto”. A place that was big, new & held the possibilities any other one of the cities I recently visited carried. Instead of dragging my feet around the places I knew, I was determined to remind myself of the places I’d forgotten, and the ones I had yet to see. For as much of the city, I have met, it has changed & is filled with so much more that is still strange to me. 

The same, could also be said for the way I am able to interact with my family. I could see them as the same as always, or I could keep my eyes open to the ways they are trying to evolve. Though, not naively. With confidence in my own ability to discern what I can handle in any given moment & being able to assert what is good for me. 

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

My first day in the city, I found myself practically skipping down the street. My mother & I walked around the Danforth- a street that I’ve long felt I knew every inch of. It was strange (but not altogether shocking) to see how much it had changed. The Tim Hortons that had me the local hangout for those too young for bars was boarded up. From what I heard from my sister, it was still the same high school haunt as of last summer, and suddenly it is no more. It’s strange how much it stirred me. A few weeks ago there was a fire, that burned the local dinner to the ground too. And yet, there are things that are still the same. Unchanged, in the way that small-town institutions can be sometimes. Alchemy, sells the same Nag Champa-infused hippy clothing. Mikes music, still smells like the old stuffy record shop it has always been. The display in the front, faded with age, but unchanged otherwise. We stopped for lunch at the cafe my mom loves best- Mocha Mocha. The art on the wall had changed, the menu prices a few dollars more than I remembered. I ordered an Orangina to drink while my mom ate her veggie club- the same way we had since I was three. But we spoke about more adult things, how our lives had changed in the time I’ve lived away. All the good, and some of the worse. I hummed along to the memories of 70s roadtrip music my mom had been playing that morning as I hunted for treasures in our old tickle-trunk. 

I braved the deeper city & called Mia to join me. The stink of the subway evoked an alien fondness, that I’m sure will subside again soon. I was filled with a rush of what it meant to be in this city again. All the times I had come home late from parties in the east end. The times we roamed around aimlessly in the west end. The half-complete project Ali & I had set out on to collect a transfer from every station on the subway lines. 

I found myself re:routing a few times along “secret paths” between houses that no longer existed outside of my memories. But, I also found myself doing things out of long standing habits I had entirely forgot about until I was in the moment again. I brushed my boots on the edge of the escalator, I whistled softly along to the subway chimes and  held my breath over the bloor-danforth viaduct. It was if I started playing a game with the ghosts of my former selves. Repeating the same behaviours, because I saw myself doing them before (with more specific, superstitious purpose then). 14-year-old me stuffed into the seats with my friends from high school. 11-year-old me “surfing” in the aisle when I couldn’t get a seat. 5 year-old me jumping dramatically over the yellow line, into the car, because I thought the yellow was bad luck.  I laughed to myself, as if I was playing along with the games my former selves motioned through. 

I met Mia in Kensington market, one of my all-time favourite spots in the city. We sat in Jimmy’s coffee and talked about transitions again- shifting of perspectives & the things that brought up there. We picked through racks of our favourite vintage stores. Dreaming up occasions to wear the excessively-fringed outfits, or the lace ball gowns. We laughed about the fact that we had both already bought wedding dresses for occasions we never intended to follow up on. 

Courage My Love has long been my favourite shop in Kensington. The walls are drapped in strings of bead, silk scarves & victorian undergarments. I found a postcard that reminded me of the moment we were in. As I wrote on the back of it, I fell into reverence for the wonderful nature of this city. All the colour, and all the different kinds of people that made this city their home. All the joy I had had walking around San Francisco, was met here too. I hadn’t allowed myself to stay curious with Toronto, and so I had fallen out of love with it entirely. Mia & I walked along Dundas for a long, long while. My eyes, your rather mind, opened to witness everything as brand new again. It was like falling in love with an older lover all over again. My difficultly with Toronto was about many things, outside of the city itself. It was a comfort I could find myself lost & in love with it again. 

The next morning, I woke early to make pancakes for everyone. It was even more strange to find myself lost in my parents kitchen. All the reflexes that had long been programmed, needed re-orienting. It allowed me to be more present & objective with my visit, something I hadn’t realized I needed so badly until just then. 

Over breakfast, my mother & I fell into heavy conversation over our mutual love for the radio. I supposed, that to highlights our mutual eagerness for nostalgia. A funny thing in itself - and a marker, in part of our shared difficulties in being fully present. The conversation had a different flavour, by the end of it though, as we both became so filled with optimism for the future. As I watched my mother move through her house, I saw the reflection of my mother in me- one that long scared me, but one I was becoming more comfortable with. My mother’s fondness for pottery from the 70s. Her love for old, rusty farm tools. The pile of gorgeous wool sweaters she has along her shelves. But also, her habit of telling stories in a thread of tangents, and the way she reaches to put on a record, as soon as we are back home. 

That night, my younger brother Isaac had a show with his band ‘Roovs’. He asked me to help him pick out an outfit. As we played dress up, we talked about our lives up until now. Though all my siblings are close, my brother is by far the most difficult to keep up with. Not because he’s really quick moving, but more so because he is a super quiet character.  Isaac was 10 when Ali & I moved away. Even outside of the fact that he’s grown almost two feet in height since then, he’s changed a lot. He threw himself into music in a fairly quiet way, but it is much of his life now. His primary instrument is the bass guitar- but he can pretty much figure any instrument out by now. In his high school band he plays trombone, tube, sousaphone & some piano. The ironic thing is, that Isaac is the one member of my sibling group that never took music lessons. He is entirely self taught & has a profound musicality that can’t be bought.  He’s really quite about it though and is pretty critical of himself. It’s good while he is still striving, but I worry that he can’t appreciate the things he’s achieved so far. 

We settled on him wearing the light brown velvet shirt I bought in Nashville. Subtle, but special. He went to go meet up with his band, and I went to meet up with Mia. We had been dreaming of a craft day since I saw her in California. We scrambled around her house, digging out all the re:purposeable bits we could find. I fell feverishly back into an embroidery project (with the limited amount of thread I managed to salvage). I am happy to be able to keep my hands busy again, in a midly-escapist way. 

Both of our mothers met us for dinner & we indulged in a large spread of Indian food. It was actually refreshing to hear our mother’s talk about mental health stuff & see they are both slowly chipping away at some of their traumas. I suppose progress doesn’t always keep a steady pace, but it seems both of them are taking mental health a little more seriously these days. I suppose they would though, after Ellie’s passing. 

We worked our way over to the beaches, where Isaac was performing. By the time we got there, the pub was already past capacity- which did not stop us from pushing in. I was actually amazed at how many people were there (I think Isaac was too). Before the show, he kept saying “oh I don’t think anyone is gonna show up to this one”, but it was so nice to see that wasn’t the case. It seemed like a lot of his classmates were there- even the ones he isn’t friends with. The boys all met at music camp the previous summer- though Isaac and Matt have been playing together for 4 years now. They are loud, and all of them so terrifically talented- I’m not just saying that as his sister. All of them (but Isaac) switched around instruments like musical chairs. There originals are fun & heavy & so full of energy. I only wish there had been more room to dance- especially during the improvised blues songs. I was getting itchy to swing dance. They clearly have a wide reference range (jazz standards, daft punk, zeppelin, the velvet underground). It was really impressive on a musical level, but further still, was the fact that the band feeds so well off one another. It was so nice to see them all so full of life & expression. Especially Isaac, who can be so stoic. He was hiding his smiles, but I could tell how proud he was & how hard he worked for all of it. I was beaming.

I flashed-backed briefly to my own very mediocre high school experience. I think mine was what it needed to be- nothing more, nothing less. I was glad to see Isaac was having a good one though. He’s always been pretty firm in his boundaries and not down for any of the bullshit that teenagers part take in. It seems he’s around good people & feels a part of something though, and that’s all I could ask for. When the gig was over, I could tell there were stirrings of an after party. Though I obviously wanted to fan over the show, we all decided to give him his space to be with his friends & went home. 

Just before we got out the door, Isaac turned to me & made sure we made plans to hang out the next day. He had said that he’d cancel any plans to spend the day with me- which almost made me cry. I’ve never wanted to make anyone proud the way I want to impress my little brother. It’s actually ridiculous. I can feel how much he loves my sisters & I. Though we can get caught up in our Halifax lives, I want to make a point of really making sure he knows how much we love him & are rooting for him in everything he does. And I really do. I believe in him being able to make the music thing work more than any other musician I’ve come to know. 

[diableriepervert]

1-99

I didn't know if you meant 1 and 99 or 1 through 99 so I just did 1 through 991: 6 of the songs i listen to most are Drugs - Eden, Season 2 Episode 3 - Glass Animals, like real people do - hoizer, I know those eyes/This man is dead - count of monte christo, obsessed with you - the orion experience, strangers - halsey2: If I could meet anyone on this earth, it would be Keanu Reeves3. The book closest to me on page 23 line 17 says "that is really cute and not at all surprising"1: 6 of the songs i listen to most are Drugs - Eden, Toes - Glass Animals, like real people do - hoizer, I know those eyes/This man is dead - count of monte christo, obsessed with you - the orion experience, strangers - halsey2: If I could meet anyone on this earth, it would be Keanu Reeves3. The book closest to me on page 23 line 17 says "that is really cute and not at all surprising"4. The thing I think about most is what my life will be like when I live all alone and nobody remembers me5: My latest text message from someone else says "beef" and that's all6: I sleep in just my underwear and bralette 7: my strangest (best) talent is that where ever I go there's always a dog somewhere and I always spot it8: Girls… are amazing; Boys… are also amazing I just like girls a wee bit better because I'm biased and gay9: I've never had a poem or song written about me but I would die of happiness of someone did but that's unlikely so (shrug emoji)10: The last time you played the air guitar was two or three weeks ago11: I don't have any strange phobias12: Ive never stuck a foreign object up my nose13: I'm agnostic 14. If I were outside i would be (depending on the time of day) stargazing, watching the sun rise/set15. I prefer to be being the camera16. I don't have a favorite band, just a jumble of playlists that in no way relate to each other17. The last lie I told was telling someone that I would cut ties with certain toxic people in my life 18. I sorta believe in karma19. My url just sounded cool to me, if you want you can make up a background story about it for me20. Greatest weakness - wanting to help so many people no matter what they've done, greatest strength - not getting heated in arguments 21. Celebrity crush is Mike Faust 22. I almost went skinny dipping with a girl once but then the weather got to bad to do so23. I bottle my anger24. I have a rock collection and a shell collection that I've had since I was really little25. I prefer talking on the phone over video chat so that way no one's gotta sea my freaky face26. I am happy with the person I've become but still recognise I could be better27. A sound I hate is an alarm clock and I love the sound of falling rain28. My biggest what if is what if I had decided to confront more people about things they've done to me or if that would've just made things worse29. You better believe that I am a strong believer of ghosts and aliens30. Sticking out my right and left arm I touch air with both31. The air I'm breathing smells like smelly dog 32. The worst place I've ever been to is this little house my mom was rebuilding that we'd visit every summer in LaSalle 33. East coast because I live there34. Most attractive singer of opposite gender is Brendan Urie35. For me the meaning of life is what is the best story you can make before time runs up36. Art is something that can convey emotion without through sound/display/ect.37. I believe in luck38. The weather right now is slightly rainey39. The time for me rn is 6:38 AM40. I don't drive 41. The last book I read was Emergency Contact42. Oddly enough I love the smell of gasoline43. I have one nickname (sommie)44. The last film I saw was mamma Mia: here we go again45. The worst injury I've ever had was when I was bike riding with my mom when I was little, we were going down a very steep hill and I lost control and hit a rock a flipped, pulling myself up I felt allot of pain in my hands and knees but only when I saw blood covering my hands and running down my legs did I start screaming, the second worst would be when I tripped over my down feet and my bones in my hand just sorta disconnected from my arm a little46. I've never caught a butterfly because I know they are fragile and I would hate to hurt them47. I have a current obsession with little nightmares at the moment 48. I'm bisexual 49. I had a rumor go around after I hit my head on a metal bar and fell of the play castle in elementary school that I was faking it50. I'm not to sure I believe in magic, I'd like to though51. I do hold grudges 52. I'm an Aries 53. I try to save money but then I see a nice book and suddenly all my money is gone54. The last thing a purchased was a book, and before that it was a different book55. Love over lust most of the time56. I'm single 57. I've been in 3 relationships that no one counts because with the two guys I only dated then two days and the girl I only dated a week, it's just that I try to give people chances when I get asked out but because there's no history or chemistry there I always break it off58. I cannot touch my nose with my tongue 59. I was at the movies yesterday 60. There is a pink bowl on my desk that I made61. I'm not wearing socks rn62. I love jellyfish63. My secret weapon to get someone to like me is to pretend I'm allot more interesting than I actually am64. My best friend is with her boyfriend rn65. My top 5 blogs on Tumblr are ikimaru, smileknife, cryptedspoon, roseebottes, and softwhispersinthenight66. I am half white half native American 67. Last night at 12 AM I was listening to music and reading 68. Satans last name is either something really deep with an intese meaning or something sad meaning69. Yeah but I don't every really do it that often, maybe once every three-four months or so?70. I am not the kind of friend I would want to have add a friend but only because I despise myself71. "You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?" You bet your ass I'm saving that dog, job be damned72. "You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?" I tell no one but I make sure there last memories of me are pleasent, and I'm not just afraid, I'm terrified 73. I would rather have love over trust74. A song that always makes me happy is Francis forever 75. My last four phone digits are 465376. A great relationship is built off of communication 77. Win my heart by loving me selflessly, talk through things with me, home with me, and understand me78. Insanity can spark more creativity 79. The best decision I've ever made was pushing my mom to getting me a dog and getting to know the best good boy in the world who I love more than everyone80. I wear a show size of 9 1/2 - 10 1/2 81. I want on my tombstone that I was loved by friends and family and will be remembered by many82. My favorite word is flabbergasted 83. When I hear the word heart I think love84. Something I say a lot is "Okie dokie" and "sorry"85. The last song I listened to is Diablo - Simon Curtis 86. My favorite color is red87. My desktop picture is of Homra from K project 88. If I could press a button to make anyone in the world explode it would be the leader of the group of people who bullied me89. A question that I would be afraid to answer honestly is "who do you hate the most"90. "One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?" I freak out a little on the inside but when I see that they're not really doing anything I try and make conversation with them91. "You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?" My super power would be to make people burst into musical numbers like the demon from once more with feeling92. A half an hour past experience I'd like to relive is just talking with all my friends when we all used to be friends with each other93. If I could erase any horrible experience from my past it would be when i got stabbed with a pencil in elementary school because i still have the scar94. If I could sleep with any music celebrity out my choice it would be kesha, no reason other than I feel like she'd be good in bed and nice to me95. That free airplane ticket takes me to Portland so I can visit my brother96. I no longer have any relatives in jail97. I have not thrown up in a car98. I've never been on a plane 99. If the whole world were listening right now I'd give some dumb speech about how we're all dumb and we all need to get along

[readexplorerepeat]

Disney's Magic Kingdom: Travel tips

Magic Kingdom is everything you've imagined since you were a kid.  At least that's how I see it.  When we first walked through those doors (after passing a thorough security check) and you walk down Main Street U.S.A, at the very back your eyes spot the magnificence of Cinderella's castle...THE castle. The castle that is featured in the introduction to every single Disney movie you've ever seen.  That moment, was just priceless. 

We prepared, read, and planned our trip fairly well, however, there are things that we were glad we knew in advance and others that we wished we knew.  I put together a list of my favorite "must do" things and other tips that can help you navigate this world of magic.

But First, READ THIS: PREPARATION STAGE: MY FIRST DISNEY TRIP.

 1. TAKE THE MONORAIL OR BUS. 

Parking is a nightmare.  The parking lot is sooooooo huge that you can literally lose your car if you don't pay attention.  If you are staying in a Disney Resort, you will have complimentary transportation to the parks.  Use it! the buses are reliable and the monorail is fast.  The bus stops are easy to find and secure.  If you are not staying inside Disney, consider Uber or a taxi service like Mears.  

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2. GET THERE EARLY

Our first day at Magic Kingdom we decided to be there before the park opened so we had time to do everything we wanted to do.  Their opening times vary depending on the season, so make sure you check online or at your hotel for the weekly schedules.  The bus service picked us up at 6:45 a.m. and we got to the park a little after 7 a.m. for a 8 a.m. opening.  You go through security faster and get prime viewing for the opening show at the Cinderella Castle.

3. PLAN AHEAD

Get the Disney Experience App on your phone if you can.  It's free and it will help you navigate the parks via GPS location (it's great when you have to find a bathroom fast).  It will also allow you to view your fast pass itinerary and manage any reservations you have.  I recommend that you have a list of the rides you would like to ride and pick them in advance.  Remember, you can't possibly ride everything unless you are going to the same park multiple days.  So, plan ahead, use your fast passes wisely and don't get overwhelmed.  

you might want to also READ  THE DO'S AND DON'TS WHEN VISITING DISNEY (HERE).

 4. STAY FOR THE FIREWORKS

One of the most magical moments while visiting Magic Kingdom was to see the fireworks at the end of the night.  They were absolutely beautiful and, well, magical.  I know that after a LONG day of walking, riding, walking, and more walking, you and the little ones will be exhausted...BUT please, believe me when I tell you...go to your hotel and take a nap in the afternoon and come back for the fireworks at night! You'll be glad you did.

 5. DINE AT CINDERELLA CASTLE

Make your reservations in advance for Cinderella's Royal Table.  This was one of the best meals we had, not to mention it was super fun for the little one!  When you come in, you get to meet Cinderella herself and take a picture with her while you wait for your table.  When they call your name, they will escort your royal family up to the Royal table (this is all inside the iconic Disney Castle).  The room is spectacular.  You really feel as if you are in a real castle, dining with real royalty.  Once you are seated, the other princesses will come to your table to greet you, take pictures and sign your autograph book.  One by one, we met Snow White, Ariel, Jasmine, and Aurora.  It was fantastic.

6. HAVE A CINNAMON ROLL AT GASTON'S TAVERN

Just delicious! Stop by Gaston's Tavern when you are in Fantasyland and order their giant, succulent cinnamon rolls.  You can share one or two with your group (they are big).  Don't forget some coffee! Even though this is a "tavern" it's still alcohol free.  Sorry folks.  

 7. GET LOST IN TOM SAWYER'S ISLAND IN FRONTIERLAND

This is not really a ride, but I thought it was pretty great.  You are taken to this little island (literally) by riding on a raft (literally) across the river. Once there, you can take your time to explore on your own.  Get lost.  Yeah, simply get lost and imagine your own adventure.  There are several caves and secret passages to fuel your imagination to high speed.  Be brave and go across the barrel bridge, or simply just hang out and people watch while playing checkers and watching the riverboat go by.  

RIDES YOU SHOULDN'T MISS

Everyone is always going to have different favorite rides, but for me, here's my list of favorites:

THE HAUNTED MANSION

This ride was simply breathtaking, and just amazing.  It could be a little scary for small children, but if they can take seeing some ghosts and ghouls, do it! I waited since I was a child to do this ride, and it was everything I dreamed.

PETER PAN'S FLIGHT

was really beautiful and magical.  You feel as if Tinker Bell for real gave you some pixie dust and you fly! You fly above London and towards Neverland.  Beautiful animations and special effects. Get fast passes for these as they fill out fast and lines are long, hours long.  

Obviously, you still have to check out the classical rides like:

 Splash Mountain

Definitely wear a rain poncho when riding this one! you'll thank me later!

 The Seven Dwarfs mine

A family favorite.  This is a trip down the Seven Dwarfs mine, where you can see them working, and singing merrily.  The movement and facial expressions of are lifelike, and you are transported to their world in a way you don't expected.  A combination of a somewhat fast roller coaster with the sweetness of Snow White's story.  You can actually see her dancing inside their house if you pay close attention at the very end!

Big Thunder Mountain

It's a Small World

Ever since I can remember, I've known the tune of "It's a Small World"...don't ask me why; so when I saw the line was slightly shorter than normal (it was late and raining... it's usually a couple of hours wait) we jumped in and enjoyed the ride.  It's a classic! yeah, the animated characters are obviously old and you can tell the ride has been there for many years, but it was absolutely beautiful.  A must do. 

 Mad Tea Party

Another spinning classic you can't leave without riding! I have to admit... the teacups are small to fit 4 people.  It was tight and spinning quite fast.  Next time, we'll do two per cup.

 Pirates of the Caribbean

You'll be surprise where you can spot Captain Jack Sparrow.  That guy is everywhere! have fun riding and searching for Jack.  It was actually very nice and well done.

 Space Mountain and of course, the Disney Railroad.  

Sorry folks, I didn't get a good picture of the train or Space Mountain.  But, my daughter loved both.  Space mountain is VERY fast, dark and goes around ... in space... or so it's supposed to feel.  Pretty nice thrill ride. The train is just a train that goes from station to station, slowly crawling it's way around the park.  

Tomorrowland was fun too, especially Monsters Inc Laughing Floor (yeah, I was chosen to speak up with the microphone while talking to a cartoon character on the stage... my daughter thought it was quite funny as my face turned tomato red), I also enjoyed Walt Disney's Carousel of Progress; a quiet little ride that takes you on journey throughout the decades of progress and how technology has evolved.

Oh I almost forgot! we LOVED dining at Belle's Castle and riding the little Mermaid Undersea Adventure. 

 LEAST FAVORITE RIDE:

Although most things in Tomorrowland were OK, the Tomorrowland Speedway -where you ride the little go-carts and race other people- is NOT my idea of fun.  The whole place smells like smoke and burnt rubber, the carts are very difficult to control, and the pedal is very hard to press.  My whole body was hurting after riding that go-cart.  Wouldn't recommend it at all. 

 Overall, Magic Kingdom was fantastic.  Something that I wish everyone could experience at least once.  We were fortunate to visit when Christmas decorations had started in late November so we got to experience the extra magic...it was also Mickey's birthday! so it made it even more special.  

Tell me your tips and your favorites too! Please comment below. 

*** If you found this information helpful, please share it with your friends! 

Always, 

Mia

[readexplorerepeat]

2016 Travels: The Good, the Bad, and the Funniest

2016 was good to us.  We were able to travel to and explore four different states in the US and two countries in Europe. We saw, ate, learned, and enjoyed different cultures, languages, food, and people. Our traveler spirit shone bright this year. We usually tell you the good and the best places to go and eat (we are all about positive thinking here!), but there are a lot of unsaid things when we post our articles. We thought it would be a good idea to actually tell you about the good, the bad, and the funniest parts of our experiences... because, let's be real, you are bound to have something funny happen when you are clumsy and curious at the same time.

NEW ORLEANS, LA

THE GOOD: We visited the amazing city of New Orleans this past spring. This is a city that has my heart and my soul and I will come back to visit any chance I get. That's a promise. I can't get enough of the beautiful architecture, the folklore stories, Bourbon St, hurricanes at Lafitte's, ghost and vampires, the gorgeous cemeteries, and of course, the food. If you haven't been to New Orleans, book your trip today!

THE BAD:  Nothing too bad in this trip. But I can say that in this trip we learned two things:  always bring comfy shoes, and rain gear. While we walked towards the Harrah's Casino on day 3, a torrential rain poured down suddenly and with no warning. People, when I say torrential, I mean TORRENTIAL. We stopped at a little store and were able to get umbrellas...that lasted 10 minutes, because ALL of our umbrellas were turned upside down by the wind, and we ended up getting soaked.  every single inch our our body was soaked.  It's no fun to gamble at the casino, and walk around with wet clothes.  

THE FUNNIEST: While we eventually found the humor and were literally "dancing in the rain", one of the funniest parts was when Coco's hubby felt fearless and thought it was a good idea to climb a post on Bourbon St.  He was actually successful in his first few attempts, but he was abruptly stopped by the massive amounts of grease covering his last targeted post. His hands (and parts of his clothes) were saturated by gooey, greasy, gunk, which, by the way, was very hard to clean off.  After that, we danced with a parrot, a rabbit, a pig, and a turtle, and sang "Eye of the Tiger" at a piano bar.  Yeah, that happened.  

PIGEON FORGE AND GATLINBURG, TN

THE GOOD:  Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg are great places to visit with the family.  Home to DOLLYWOOD, we had an amazing time this spring.   

THE BAD: Nothing too bad happened while we traveled to TN, other than terrible traffic due to construction. Unfortunately, due to the recent wildfires in the area, many of the city's iconic sites were lost. Our thoughts are with the wonderful people of these two great towns.  

THE FUNNIEST:  Another torrential unexpected rain. While in Dollywood, and towards the end of the day, the skies broke down and rain poured like an open faucet.  We sought refuge at the main gift shop inside the park, and were able to buy an overpriced yellow rain poncho (good quality though). Thank goodness it wasn't cold, as our little 6 year old was not a happy camper.

CAROLINA BEACH, NC

THE GOOD: This trip was great.  It was Memorial Day Weekend, and the weather was perfect. The craft beer at Goodhops Brewery was fantastic, and the fire works at the boardwalk rounded off a fun filled night.

THE BAD: We wanted to stop by and tour the USS NC, in Wilmington, but, and I'm guessing it was because it was Memorial Day Weekend, the lines were long, and the kids were whinny.  We saw it from a distance and learned a little about too. Maybe next time.

THE FUNNIEST:  There is a town fair at the boardwalk. Our daughter made us laugh hysterically when she compared a Carousel Rooster to her daddy (my hubby). I guess she found the similarity in the long neck and height? Either way, it was a hoot!    

PARIS, FRANCE

THE GOOD: This trip was almost perfect. We couldn't get enough of the food, the wine, the cheese, the coffee! So many places to go, so much to see, so much to do. It was simply amazing! My favorite part was when we got some wine and food to eat picnic style at the Tuileries Garden, in front of the Louvre. It was relaxing, and uplifting, and one of my favorite memories.  *Read our articles on what to eat, and what to do in Paris*

THE BAD: While we were in Paris, the EuroCup was in progress in France. Because of that, security in Paris was extra strict, which is good, but also, drunken soccer fans were everywhere.  And let me tell you, roving bands of loud drunken peoples, especially in a city you are not familiar with can be a bit scary. The Eiffel Tower perimeter was barricaded with police and body searches, and we weren't able to see the Eiffel Tower at night. Next time it is. ALSO, there was a very limited access to free WIFI around the city.  Cafe's and restaurants will lure you into thinking you can use their WIFI with "free wifi" signs, but it's a lie! They just want you to sit down and eat/drink something.  When you ask for a wifi password they will give you a bogus one. This happened in MANY cafe's (not all though) in the touristic areas. Won't fall for it next time. 

THE FUNNIEST: Everywhere we go, it seems to rain, torrentially. But luckily, this time we were prepared! We had rain jackets, umbrellas, and waterproof shoes. Bring it on rain! What I didn't count on, was the fact that rain makes dirt slippery. Imagine this: Walking down the beautiful vast gardens of the Versailles Palace, when suddenly your feet move in a skating motion trying to avoid your body from hitting the ground. You fail, and you must spend the rest of the Palace tour COVERED in mud. Covered. Did I mention I was wearing white?  Yay me! 

ROME, ITALY

THE GOOD: The food. Oh the fabulous food. *what to eat while in Rome** The historical places were amazing as well. The Coliseum was breathtaking, and the weather was just perfect.

THE BAD: Our flight to Rome got cancelled. - Insert full panic mode emoji- We got a heads up that it was cancelled by calling home (to the US) and talking to a family member who happened to look at our itinerary. We spent hours on the phone with the airline trying to reschedule a flight for 6. Our flight was rescheduled for later that same day and we got complimentary food vouchers while we waited at the airport.- insert happy emoji here-. Finally, beware of pickpockets. While we didn't have any experiences with stolen goods, we were very well aware of our surroundings. Pickpockets and thieves will try to lure you into thinking you are watching a street show, or will force you into buying something you don't want. Keep all of your belongings on you at all times when navigating the streets of Rome. Sadly, many thieves will use children to lure you, so don't fall for those puppy eyes.

THE FUNNIEST: Pigeon poop.  Yes. When a pigeon scared Coco (she actually screamed) and pooped on her later. That, my friends, was epic.  On another note, while at the Rome's airport, we thought it was a good idea to stop by Starbucks and get a latte.  They asked for hubby's name (Chase), and the attendant didn't understand the name and asked again, and again...then she gave up and just wrote it down... this is what was on his cup, and that's how I will spell it forever.  

HELEN, GA

THE GOOD: Oh Helen, Georgia, home of Oktoberfest in the south. We pack our bags every year in October, and head to the mountains of Georgia. This little gem of a town, welcomes us with open arms and lots of brews and great food. We all wear our Alpine hats full of pins that we have collected over the years as memorabilia of our adventures, and try to match our outfits, and dance Polka at Festhall...yeah, I know, dorky...but it's fun! 

THE BAD: We have always been very fortunate and have had a place to stay while visiting (thanks Stephanie's parents!) but if you plan to visit this town during the Oktoberfest festivities, better book your hotel way in advance. The town is small, and the few rooms available book out very fast. It's almost impossible to find a hotel within a few weeks of the fest.  

THE FUNNY: Das Boot is always fun to play. Drink as much brew as you can from this massive boot-shaped glass and pass it along.  IF you finish all the beer in it, the person that went before you buys the next round.  We also tried some Stroh.  This exotic rum, smells delicious (butterscotch), but as soon as you taste it, it will burn your throat, like gasoline.  It tastes nothing like it smells, and it will make you cry. Yeah, it was pretty hilarious to see the boys try it.  

This year we also found wild bunnies roaming around in the parking lot, and we tried to catch them...unsuccessfully of course. But it was good exercise. 

Remember how I mentioned we like to match? That includes the matching suspenders bought for our party of 8 to wear. Those little boogers can be tricky to hook and unhook, just ask Coco. In an unfortunate bathroom incident, she simultaneously had her suspenders fly off her pants, into the toilet behind her, all while a drunken alpine dress wearing Oktoberfest goer barged into her stall. I'm sure the entire Festhall heard her startled screams.  Oh, I love Helen times!

  2016 was a great travel year for us and we are grateful to have shared our memories with all of you.  Stick around to see where 2017 will take us! It's going to be epic!

Always,

Coco & Mia 

*** FOLLOW US AROUND THE WORLD! READ ABOUT OUR TRAVEL ADVENTURES HERE***

[readexplorerepeat]

2016 Travels: The Good, the Bad, and the Funniest

2016 was good to us.  We were able to travel to and explore four different states in the US and two countries in Europe. We saw, ate, learned, and enjoyed different cultures, languages, food, and people. Our traveler spirit shone bright this year. We usually tell you the good and the best places to go and eat (we are all about positive thinking here!), but there are a lot of unsaid things when we post our articles. We thought it would be a good idea to actually tell you about the good, the bad, and the funniest parts of our experiences... because, let's be real, you are bound to have something funny happen when you are clumsy and curious at the same time.

NEW ORLEANS, LA

THE GOOD: We visited the amazing city of New Orleans this past spring. This is a city that has my heart and my soul and I will come back to visit any chance I get. That's a promise. I can't get enough of the beautiful architecture, the folklore stories, Bourbon St, hurricanes at Lafitte's, ghost and vampires, the gorgeous cemeteries, and of course, the food. If you haven't been to New Orleans, book your trip today!

THE BAD:  Nothing too bad in this trip. But I can say that in this trip we learned two things:  always bring comfy shoes, and rain gear. While we walked towards the Harrah's Casino on day 3, a torrential rain poured down suddenly and with no warning. People, when I say torrential, I mean TORRENTIAL. We stopped at a little store and were able to get umbrellas...that lasted 10 minutes, because ALL of our umbrellas were turned upside down by the wind, and we ended up getting soaked.  every single inch our our body was soaked.  It's no fun to gamble at the casino, and walk around with wet clothes.  

THE FUNNIEST: While we eventually found the humor and were literally "dancing in the rain", one of the funniest parts was when Coco's hubby felt fearless and thought it was a good idea to climb a post on Bourbon St.  He was actually successful in his first few attempts, but he was abruptly stopped by the massive amounts of grease covering his last targeted post. His hands (and parts of his clothes) were saturated by gooey, greasy, gunk, which, by the way, was very hard to clean off.  After that, we danced with a parrot, a rabbit, a pig, and a turtle, and sang "Eye of the Tiger" at a piano bar.  Yeah, that happened.  

PIGEON FORGE AND GATLINBURG, TN

THE GOOD:  Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg are great places to visit with the family.  Home to DOLLYWOOD, we had an amazing time this spring.   

THE BAD: Nothing too bad happened while we traveled to TN, other than terrible traffic due to construction. Unfortunately, due to the recent wildfires in the area, many of the city's iconic sites were lost. Our thoughts are with the wonderful people of these two great towns.  

THE FUNNIEST:  Another torrential unexpected rain. While in Dollywood, and towards the end of the day, the skies broke down and rain poured like an open faucet.  We sought refuge at the main gift shop inside the park, and were able to buy an overpriced yellow rain poncho (good quality though). Thank goodness it wasn't cold, as our little 6 year old was not a happy camper.

CAROLINA BEACH, NC

THE GOOD: This trip was great.  It was Memorial Day Weekend, and the weather was perfect. The craft beer at Goodhops Brewery was fantastic, and the fire works at the boardwalk rounded off a fun filled night.

THE BAD: We wanted to stop by and tour the USS NC, in Wilmington, but, and I'm guessing it was because it was Memorial Day Weekend, the lines were long, and the kids were whinny.  We saw it from a distance and learned a little about too. Maybe next time.

THE FUNNIEST:  There is a town fair at the boardwalk. Our daughter made us laugh hysterically when she compared a Carousel Rooster to her daddy (my hubby). I guess she found the similarity in the long neck and height? Either way, it was a hoot!    

PARIS, FRANCE

THE GOOD: This trip was almost perfect. We couldn't get enough of the food, the wine, the cheese, the coffee! So many places to go, so much to see, so much to do. It was simply amazing! My favorite part was when we got some wine and food to eat picnic style at the Tuileries Garden, in front of the Louvre. It was relaxing, and uplifting, and one of my favorite memories.  *Read our articles on what to eat, and what to do in Paris*

THE BAD: While we were in Paris, the EuroCup was in progress in France. Because of that, security in Paris was extra strict, which is good, but also, drunken soccer fans were everywhere.  And let me tell you, roving bands of loud drunken peoples, especially in a city you are not familiar with can be a bit scary. The Eiffel Tower perimeter was barricaded with police and body searches, and we weren't able to see the Eiffel Tower at night. Next time it is. ALSO, there was a very limited access to free WIFI around the city.  Cafe's and restaurants will lure you into thinking you can use their WIFI with "free wifi" signs, but it's a lie! They just want you to sit down and eat/drink something.  When you ask for a wifi password they will give you a bogus one. This happened in MANY cafe's (not all though) in the touristic areas. Won't fall for it next time. 

THE FUNNIEST: Everywhere we go, it seems to rain, torrentially. But luckily, this time we were prepared! We had rain jackets, umbrellas, and waterproof shoes. Bring it on rain! What I didn't count on, was the fact that rain makes dirt slippery. Imagine this: Walking down the beautiful vast gardens of the Versailles Palace, when suddenly your feet move in a skating motion trying to avoid your body from hitting the ground. You fail, and you must spend the rest of the Palace tour COVERED in mud. Covered. Did I mention I was wearing white?  Yay me! 

ROME, ITALY

THE GOOD: The food. Oh the fabulous food. *what to eat while in Rome** The historical places were amazing as well. The Coliseum was breathtaking, and the weather was just perfect.

THE BAD: Our flight to Rome got cancelled. - Insert full panic mode emoji- We got a heads up that it was cancelled by calling home (to the US) and talking to a family member who happened to look at our itinerary. We spent hours on the phone with the airline trying to reschedule a flight for 6. Our flight was rescheduled for later that same day and we got complimentary food vouchers while we waited at the airport.- insert happy emoji here-. Finally, beware of pickpockets. While we didn't have any experiences with stolen goods, we were very well aware of our surroundings. Pickpockets and thieves will try to lure you into thinking you are watching a street show, or will force you into buying something you don't want. Keep all of your belongings on you at all times when navigating the streets of Rome. Sadly, many thieves will use children to lure you, so don't fall for those puppy eyes.

THE FUNNIEST: Pigeon poop.  Yes. When a pigeon scared Coco (she actually screamed) and pooped on her later. That, my friends, was epic.  On another note, while at the Rome's airport, we thought it was a good idea to stop by Starbucks and get a latte.  They asked for hubby's name (Chase), and the attendant didn't understand the name and asked again, and again...then she gave up and just wrote it down... this is what was on his cup, and that's how I will spell it forever.  

HELEN, GA

THE GOOD: Oh Helen, Georgia, home of Oktoberfest in the south. We pack our bags every year in October, and head to the mountains of Georgia. This little gem of a town, welcomes us with open arms and lots of brews and great food. We all wear our Alpine hats full of pins that we have collected over the years as memorabilia of our adventures, and try to match our outfits, and dance Polka at Festhall...yeah, I know, dorky...but it's fun! 

THE BAD: We have always been very fortunate and have had a place to stay while visiting (thanks Stephanie's parents!) but if you plan to visit this town during the Oktoberfest festivities, better book your hotel way in advance. The town is small, and the few rooms available book out very fast. It's almost impossible to find a hotel within a few weeks of the fest.  

THE FUNNY: Das Boot is always fun to play. Drink as much brew as you can from this massive boot-shaped glass and pass it along.  IF you finish all the beer in it, the person that went before you buys the next round.  We also tried some Stroh.  This exotic rum, smells delicious (butterscotch), but as soon as you taste it, it will burn your throat, like gasoline.  It tastes nothing like it smells, and it will make you cry. Yeah, it was pretty hilarious to see the boys try it.  

This year we also found wild bunnies roaming around in the parking lot, and we tried to catch them...unsuccessfully of course. But it was good exercise. 

Remember how I mentioned we like to match? That includes the matching suspenders bought for our party of 8 to wear. Those little boogers can be tricky to hook and unhook, just ask Coco. In an unfortunate bathroom incident, she simultaneously had her suspenders fly off her pants, into the toilet behind her, all while a drunken alpine dress wearing Oktoberfest goer barged into her stall. I'm sure the entire Festhall heard her startled screams.  Oh, I love Helen times!

  2016 was a great travel year for us and we are grateful to have shared our memories with all of you.  Stick around to see where 2017 will take us! it'g going to be epic!

Always,

Coco & Mia 

*** FOLLOW US AROUND THE WORLD! READ ABOUT OUR TRAVEL ADVENTURES HERE***