#might as well take out a second mortgage

[quinnallerton]

Why is it nearly impossible to leave the United States to go on vacation anywhere?

Want to visit the Caribbean for a week? $2,000 plane ticket.

Want to visit the United Kingdom? $2,300 plane ticket.

Land of the free? Fuck that....

No one can afford to leave or stay. I hate it here.

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for July 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ Peeping by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom [E, 16k, Harry/Louis]

Louis hates his job as an accountant and desperately wants to be a teacher. Of course, that would mean going back to uni, which he can’t afford if he wants to keep up the mortgage payments on his house. It’s Niall that suggests Louis gets a housemate.

Harry is great around the house, loves cooking and cleaning, and everything is fine, lovely even. That is until Louis locks himself out of the house, and in his attempts to get inside, he stumbles upon Harry wanking to a video of Louis playing footy.

OR Louis has a thing for his housemate, Harry is under the impression that clothing around the house is an optional extra, and neither of them seem to be able to stop wanking long enough to get their shit together and admit their true feelings.

＊ Unbonded by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom [E, 24k, Louis/Harry]

“Look,” Louis says firmly. “Last time I checked, I’m still the pack leader, so you damn well better listen to me. It was Harry who worked out what I’d been poisoned with, then nursed me back to health. And it was Harry who thwarted the plan for my second assassination attempt by literally throwing himself in front of an arrow intended for me, nearly dying in the process, which is why we��re even having this argument in the first place. So if you think I’m going to set foot outside of this hut until he’s fully healed, you’ve all seriously misread the situation, and even more importantly, you’ve all seriously misread me.”

OR the one where Harry is an omega who has been cast out from his pack, Louis is the alpha leader of the pack where Harry finds a new home, Liam is an alpha with heart of gold, and Niall is a cook who can't seem to stop setting himself on fire.

＊ frightened by the bite, no harsher than the bark by localopa / @voulezloux [T, 21k, Louis/Harry]

louis loves going to the barricade during his shows. if it’s because he’s got a bit (lot) of touch deprivation and is using it as an excuse to have his big alpha bodyguard, harry, touch him, well, that’s a secret he doesn’t need to tell.

＊ the past might be painful, but i’m in love with our future by localopa / @voulezloux [T, 10k, Harry/Louis]

it takes a lot of convincing for louis to let harry take him to his first pride. harry understands his worries and fears. really, he does. he just wants to show his boyfriend that he doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

a don’t be afraid to love (and love again) time stamp. Part 2 of trans louis verse

＊ If Life Is a Photograph by @allwaswell16 [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Harry gets plucked out of the crowd to take Louis’ crew pic on stage in Guadalajara.

＊ It Was Electric Touch by @allwaswell16 [E, 2k, Harry/Louis]

Harry, assistant to The Snuts' manager, has been indulging in fantasies about the headliner and founder of the Away From Home Festival, Louis Tomlinson. He gets the chance to indulge in the real thing at the after party.

＊ Tastes Like Violets by @allwaswell16 [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Pop star Harry Styles has a bit of a crush on his makeup artist's brother.

Or Louis has a death metal band, Harry doesn't mind public challenges via Twitter, and Lottie thinks they're both hopelessly chaotic.

＊ Coração selvagem by Stria / @nooradeservedbetter [NR, 50k, Louis/Harry]

Louis keeps his eyes on the Wolf, careful about every movement he makes. He keeps his head tilted, deliberately showing the right side of his neck; the mating gland is on the other side, but this still shows he’s not a threat. Zayn answers at the third ring. “Lou?” he asks, confusion seeping into his voice. “Zed,” Louis says quietly, trying to keep his tone as calm as possible. “Zed, I’ve found Harry. He’s feral.”

Or, Louis' life in his newfound Pack gets disrupted by an old flame coming back for him, shifted and feral.

＊ No Surprises by @louislittletomlintum [E, 21k, Harry/Louis]

The thing was, Louis worked in an office, and it was fine. It could be worse.

But maybe, it could be better.

“I smoke socially, sometimes. Depends who I’m with,” Harry shrugged, taking another puff. Louis watched his soft little lips wrap around it and purse just slightly on the inhale. It wasn’t the first time he considered if Harry was perfectly made just to torment him.

“Hm. I won’t send you to jail for now, then. On crimes of fibbing,” Louis decided benevolently. He was about to open his mouth to spout off some other shite before he saw Harry had a bit of a pensive look in his features despite how his eyes were a little glassy.

“Lou,” he began, and god Louis loved that he’d earned that little nickname off of him. “Can I ask you summat?” Harry added, tapping the ash of the cigarette in the tray before taking another puff.

“You just did,” Louis smiled because Harry walked right into that one. “But I’ll give you another,”

“How did you know you were queer?”

or; an office au where louis is a loveable brat and harry is working himself out

＊ Listening to Intuition by @lululawrence [NR, 5k, Louis/Harry]

Now that Zayn was laying it all out like this, Louis got to wondering… could it be possible that he was never able to get a really good handle on what exactly aromanticism was because he’d never felt romantic attraction, and without that key piece, how could he possibly figure out what it truly meant to be lacking it?

Louis has a good grasp of his own identity and how all the pieces of him fit together in his life as a queer man in a committed relationship with his partner. Or so he thinks until his favorite aroace TikTok creator shows him another possibility he may have previously overlooked. Part 1 of Looking for a Good Time

＊ Smells Like TEAM Spirit by @persephoneflouwers [NR, 10k, Harry/Louis]

Punk Louis and quarterback Harry have been secretly dating for years. Feeling overwhelmed by his commitments, Harry suggests a short break, fearing he can't give Louis enough time. As Louis reflects on his vulnerabilities, Harry struggles on the field without him. Part 1 of ~ Pocket Tales unfolding on Screen ~

＊ If Control is My Religion… by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 [E, 14k, Louis/Harry]

“So just to recap, you’ve been vomiting every single morning, and then you seem to be fine for the rest of the day?”

Louis nods. “Except for yesterday when Liam was eating a tuna sandwich after practice and it smelled vile. Who the hell even likes tuna sandwiches?”

Niall sighs in the way that a disappointed parent might. “Louis, please don’t take this in the wrong way, because I’m not judging you at all. But is there any possibility that you’re pregnant?”

Louis scoffs. Technically, it is possible. Louis’ known he was a male carrier since his routine physical when he was sixteen. But it isn’t actually possible, not really. He and Harry always use a condom.

Except for that one day a few weeks ago when Louis had forgotten to buy more and they couldn’t wait. And the time the week before that when the condom had broke, but they both figured it was probably fine.

Shit.

(Or the one where Louis is a professional football player, who’s in a very mutually beneficial no-strings-attached relationship with the team’s medical trainer Harry. Everything in Louis’ life is exactly how he wants it. Until he finds himself unexpectedly pregnant).

＊ Forward by itsraininginengland / @ilovellama14 [E, 10k, Harry/Louis]

Harry and Louis must keep moving forward.

Quiet scenes from an older Louis and Harry, who are always working to be better together.

＊ Yesterday’s gone (it’ll be better than before) by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa [E, 3k, Louis/Harry]

Leo’s frown. His attempt to call after Louis. Ed saying he was surprised to see Louis here. All those little moments fell into place the moment he spotted Harry Styles.

Harry Styles, his former bandmate.

Harry Styles, who he hadn’t seen face to face in over three years.

Harry Styles, who was technically still Harry Tomlinson-Styles.

OR Louis and Harry run into each other at the Euros, there's a mix up at the hotel and they have a past

＊ Following the Good Vibes by @lululawrence [NR, 6k, Harry/Louis]

"Oh my god, I can't believe it's really you!" Zayn said with a wide smile, hands on his hips as if he was truly stunned over the fact this guy was sitting just a couple of seats behind him. "I thought it might be when I heard your voice, but I haven't seen you in years! How are you doing..."

It was then Zayn realized he didn't have a fucking clue what this guy's name was and he was pretending they were long lost friends.

After an awkward pause, Zayn finally tacked on, "...Chad!"

When Zayn rescues a stranger named Harry from an awkward plane ride beside a total dick, he doesn't think much of it. Harry as the chance to pay it forward on a later flight, and in doing so he just might set into motion pieces that will determine the path his future takes. Part 2 of Looking for a Good Time

＊ It's Not That I Don't Want You by @parmahamlarrie [E, 12k, Louis/Harry]

It begins with a benign comment during a night in watching a show with his lovely boyfriend, Louis, and leads Harry to a months long journey to understand himself better. Will Harry figure out what makes him feel so different from everyone else? And will he find the courage to tell his boyfriend?

Or a character study into Ace Harry with the most supportive boyfriend, Louis.

＊ I'd Rather You (Hold Me)by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed [T, 14k, Zayn/Louis]

He frowns when he hears the dial tone. By now, he knows just how many times the sound will come through, tinny on the speakers, before it clicks over to voicemail, and yet he still feels his heart trip over itself whenever the voice first comes through.

“Hi, you’ve reached Zayn-”

He sighs, rubbing at his forehead, where his headache always tends to bloom when he’s stressed. “Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, disconnecting the call and resisting the childish urge to redial immediately, knowing that if Zayn’s not picking up now, he won’t no matter how much Louis bugs him.

It’s just - this isn’t like them. It isn’t like Zayn to dodge his calls for days, not unless he’s seriously incapacitated or dead, but if that were the case, Louis would’ve heard. Because Louis is his emergency contact, for one, and both their families know how much they mean to one another. Someone would’ve called, if something had happened, unless Zayn was dead in his own house, and, oh God, what if Zayn’s dead in his own house and Louis has been mentally calling him a dickhead while he’s rotting on the bathroom floor?

Spoiler: Zayn isn't dead. There is however, suddenly a baby.

＊ coming home by @nouies [E, 2k, Louis/Harry]

It’s coming home, one way or another.

＊ Never Wanted Love, Just A Fancy Car by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove [M, 7k, Harry/fLouis]

“Anyways,” the man says, “someone as handsome as you shouldn’t be sitting all alone with an empty glass. Can I get you a drink?”Louis raises an eyebrow, snorting. “It’s an open bar,” he says. “The company is buying the drinks.”“Well.” The man laughs nervously. “I suppose so. But it is my company, so. I guess I already bought you a drink?”Louis feels his head jerk up in surprise, his mouth falling open as he looks into the face of COO Harry Styles, son of founder and CEO Desmond Styles.

When graphic designer Louis gets asked out by C-suite executive Harry, he thinks Harry is trying to take advantage of him. But he's willing to take advantage of him right back, if that's what it takes to get ahead in life and get his sister's new business off the ground.

＊ your brightest star by staybeautiful / @harruandlou [E, 35k, Louis/Harry]

“My baby,” Louis whispered into Harry’s neck, closing his eyes tightly into the embrace. Harry squeezed him closer and Louis could feel him nodding into his throat before he kissed him gently behind the ear.

“I love you,” Harry mumbled into his shoulder.

He tried to move closer, but they were already pressed together from cheek to where their ankles were tangled precariously together. “Me too, me too.”

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered, just for Louis’ ears. They swayed slightly, like a delicate dance to the distilled noise around them.

“Oh, darling. Sunshine.”

Or a series of timestamps from the sunshine, baby! universe 𖤓 Part 2 of you're the sun to me

＊ we could be enough by @hellolovers13 [M, 5k, Harry/Louis]

“You know I am flirting with you, right?”

Louis freezes mid-bite. Just manages not to choke on his steak.

Harry laughs a bit too loudly, almost like he’s nervous. “Yeah, should’ve known you weren’t the observant kind. You think I get this dressed up for a random dinner with a mate on a Tuesday night?”

or Louis never imagined anyone could love him for who he truly is.

Then he meets Harry.

＊ Just The Way You Are by @enchantedlandcoffee [G, 780 words, Louis/Harry]

"Do you miss it?" "Miss what, love?" He could hear the frown in Louis’ voice, and tried to subtly release soothing pheromones into the kitchen "You know...sex and all that." "Where's this coming from, Haz?"

Or, the one where Harry confesses his worries, and Louis reassures him. Part 1 of I Just Wanna Love You

＊ This Feels Like Home by @enchantedlandcoffee [G, 300 words, Harry/Louis]

After one too many nights alone in a hotel bed, Harry flies home on a whim to surprise his husband.

[sgiandubh]

Sasnak City - a different view

I will never encourage you enough to read the whole comments' thread of a post you liked. Otherwise, it's blink and you'll miss it, as I almost missed the only feedback of the Sasnak City event we have on this side of the spectrum: @rosfrank's. She graciously agreed to let me repost them and I truly thank her for the kindness.

Her comments were made under two different posts, so I collated them and vetted their content as much as I could, given the unprecedented context of the SAG-AFTRA strike and the scarcity of details. I did not watch the recap on Instagram, because I am not a fan of the format.

I had no idea Sasnak City was a consistent partner of the Camp Encourage for autistic children project. At least since 2020, as a very superficial Google search shows:

...in 2020, with RR...

... in 2022....

What is Camp Encourage?

This:

Do you have any idea of what it is to be the mother of an autistic child? I don't have this honor. I have never been through the stress and the pain of looking for the right solution, for the good therapist. I never had to swallow my impotent tears and fight with the angel, fruitlessly asking myself why did it happen to me.

I can assure you that career, money and the white picket fence house which mortgage you just paid off do not matter. Not when you wait dejected, with your well-garnished checkbook and no hope in sight, until the good doctor will finally see you. Not when your child is a desperately inaccessible fortress. Not when you tell yourself you just can't take it anymore and yet miraculously find out that yes, you eventually can, over and over and over again.

Before judging, you might want to take a moment.

Side note: the man who supposedly is not good with kids interacted with the organizer's autistic son. On stage (try and take an autistic person out of their comfort zone, anyone?). Oh. What an inconvenient truth, again.

Different figures circulate. I think this is pretty close to reality and also to the 'small and personal fan convention format'. Not sure it made anybody rich overnight, after you deduce all the costs - part of proceeds went to the above charity, anyways. Zealots would like more transparency, perhaps. With which moral authority?

Second bone of contention and a particularly unsavory one, at that, the disrespect of the SAG-AFTRA's strike rules:

What was I telling you, the other day?

As for the limbo, I cannot believe no one bothered to look around a bit for confirmation. On Facebook, for example:

They did their due diligence homework. This announcement was posted on July 14, 2023, with a solidarity with the strike hashtag to boot. Propaganda? Hypocrisy? Oh, give me a break. It is legally impeccable.

There you go. No mention of the show anywhere - check. Screened questions - check. Only the SS paraphernalia (pics, etc) supplied - check. Books still ok for autographs (at S's discretion to go ahead or not, which means SAG-AFTRA is ok with, by the way) - check. Make lemonade when life gives you lemons and 'be creative' - check.

Where is the problem? Why certain sleuthing skills suddenly vanish when it's about formulating a balanced, reasonable POV?

Let me guess. It's all about the "go away, ugly socks, your story sucks" syndrome. Oh.

You'd wish, duckies. You'd wish.

I am not these people's lawyer. Playing Atticus Finch completely ceased to interest me sometime around 1998 AD. I even doubt we can stand each other IRL, for reasons. But I am not discussing people, here. I am discussing and debunking a homespun web of self-righteous lies.

Thank you, @rosfrank. Your gesture was generous and very, very brave.

[ashprompts]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 (𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐒) — 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

a collection of sentence starters from the album by boygenius, "the record." feel free to alter pronouns/text as you see fit

"give me everything you've got, i'll take what i can get."

"i want to hear your story and be a part of it."

"who would i be without you?"

"speak to me until your history's no mystery to me."

"talk to me until the words run dry."

"i'll give everything i've got, please take what i can give."

"i want you to hear my story."

"it's a bad idea and i'm all about it."

"when you wake up, i'll be gone again."

"in another life we were arsonists."

"mama told me that it don't run on wishes, but that i should have fun."

"so many hills to die on."

"run out of gas, out of time, out of money."

"you're doing what you can, just making it run."

"take a break, make your escape."

"can you give me twenty dollars?"

"i know you have twenty dollars."

"she's asleep in the back seat looking peaceful enough to me."

"we're coming back from where no one lives."

"[name], i'm sorry."

"i just make it up as i go along."

"i can feel myself becoming someone only you could want."

"now i'm wide awake, spiraling."

"i'll get a real job, you'll go back to school."

"we can burn out in the freezing cold."

"you know how i get when i'm wrong."

"i can feel myself becoming somebody that i'm not."

"i'm 27 and i don't know who i am."

"you can't help but become the sun."

"when you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out."

"it feels good to be known so well."

"i can't hide from you like i hide from myself."

"you already hurt my feelings in the way only you could."

"i remember who i am when i'm with you."

"your love is tough." / "your love is tried and true blue."

"you've never done me wrong, except for that one time."

"it doesn't matter anymore."

"who won the fight?"

"i don't know, we're not keeping score."

"i'm trying to be cool about it."

"wishing you were kind enough to be cruel about it."

"telling myself i can always do without it, knowing that it probably isn't true."

"it's impossible to pass your tests."

"i'm trying to forget about it."

"kindly get out of my head about it."

"once i took your medication to know what it's like." / "and now i have to act like i can't read your mind."

"i ask you how you're doing and i let you lie."

"we don't have to talk about it."

"i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning."

"it's nice to see how good you're doing."

"we know it isn't true."

"it would only take the energy to fix it."

"i don't know why i am the way i am."

"not strong enough to be your man."

"i can't stop staring at the ceiling fan."

"spinning out about things that haven't happened."

"do you see us getting scraped up off the pavement?"

"i lied, i am just lowering your expectations."

"half a mind that keeps the other second guessing."

"always an angel, never a god."

"i think i've been having revelations."

"skip the exit to our old street and go home."

"go home alone."

"you live up in my head."

"i've been making music since you told me to do it."

"i just wanna know who broke your nose."

"figure out where they live, so i can kick their teeth in."

"if this isn't love then what the fuck is it?"

"i guess just let me pretend."

"i don't wanna die. that's a lie, but i'm afraid to get sick."

"if you're not enough, then i give up."

"i used to think if i'd just close my eyes, i will disappear."

"if you love me, you will listen to this song."

"i could tell that you were serious."

"it gave us more time to embarrass ourselves."

"i might like you less now that you know me so well."

"there's a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in."

"i am not an old man having an existential crisis."

"i never thought you'd happen to me."

"will you be a satanist with me?"

"mortgage off your soul to buy your dream vacation home in florida."

"tryin' to score some off-brand ecstasy."

"will you be an anarchist with me?"

"sleep in cars and kill the bourgeoisie."

"at least until you find out what a fake i am."

"spray paint my initials on an atm."

"i burn my cash and smash my old tv."

"will you be a nihilist with me?"

"if nothing matters, man, that's a relief."

"if nothing can be known, then stupidity is holy."

"if the void becomes a bore, we'll treat ourselves to some self-belief."

"oh, you know what i should do?"

"it's so hard to come back."

"you could absolutely break my heart."

"that's how i know that we're in love."

"i don't need the symbol of a scar."

"isn't it enough that we stripped down to our skin?"

"i feel crazy in ways i never say."

"will you still love me if it turns out i'm insane?"

"i know what you'll say, but it helps to hear you say it anyway."

"damn, that makes me sad." / "it doesn't have to be like that."

"if you rewrite your life, may i still play a part?"

"i can't imagine you without the same smile in your eyes."

"there is something about you that i will always recognize."

"if you don't remember, i will try to remind you."

"i will go on and on until it all comes back."

"i'm out of my depth at a public beach."

"i never listened, i had to see it for myself."

"making peace with my inevitable death."

"i guess i did alright, considering." / "tried to be a halfway decent friend."

"an honest fool with more bad habits than you can count."

"was anyone ever so young?"

"breaking curfew with illegal fireworks."

"unpacking god in the suburbs."

"you don't have to make it bad just cause you know how."

"writing the words to the worst love song you've ever heard."

"an incantation like an anti-curse."

"i think that you're special." / "you told me once that i'm selfish."

"you said my music is mellow, maybe i'm just exhausted."

"you think you're a good person because you won't punch me."

"i love you. i don't know why, i just do."

"you're not special, you're evil."

"you don't get to tell me to calm down."

"you made me feel like an equal, but i'm better than you and you should know that by now."

"it looked like it hurt and i wasn't sorry."

"i should have left you right there."

"you don't know me."

"i wanna be happy."

"i'm ready to walk into my room without looking for you."

"i'll go up to the top of our building."

"i can't feel it yet, but i am waiting."

[momobani]

Wilson!

THE WAY I hate YOU - Chapter 3 - 16.3k

&team Nicholas x fem!reader - arranged marriage AU

SERIES MASTERLIST

Sum: most people would die to stay in their honeymoon phase, you on the other hand might die from being in the honeymoon phase. 

Warnings: swearing, sarcasm, mention of food and alcohol, Nicholas (i feel like his existence is a warning in this one, you’ll see what i mean), mentions of sex 

Soundtrack rec: Hold Me Tight or Don’t - Fall Out Boy

Taglist: @nichoswag @seokka0o

A/N: i personally was having a delightful time writing some of this, like more than usual lol that i went overboard with the word count, i hope you enjoy it too <3 (again ft some fun cameos! don’t take it seriously lmao)  

This is so not how you had imagined spending your Friday night.

The hot pot machine bubbled quietly in the middle of the table while you tried to simultaneously pay attention to what Nicholas was saying and fight a piece of meat that just kept disappearing below the surface of the broth. 

“So, what do you think?” Nicholas concludes. He’d just finished his side of the debate on which apartment you should choose to live in. The two of you had been meeting to organise your lives and had finally come to make a decision for where you’ll live. 

You finally manage to snag that piece of meat and bring it to your plate quickly. 

“Well, I agree about how much nicer it would be to have a laundry room but I’m not too hot on the location.” you reply.

“What do you mean?” he asks. “The location is perfect!” 

“What’s so perfect about it?” you inquire, looking down at the tablet between you. The map just showed it was some distance away from your current apartments, although closer to the supermarket you went to and the boba cafe you liked. 

“It’s pretty central to where we need to go,” he says, flicking through the photos again. “and there’sabasketballcourtafewblocksaway.” he speedily finishes. The slew of words don’t quite hit your ears in real time and your eyebrows scrunch together as you try to decipher what your husband just said. 

“There’s a what?” you ask. 

“And there’s a park so nature, yay!” he grins, trying to move on but you weren’t born yesterday. You raise an eyebrow combatively - he either tells you or you’ll veto this entirely. Nicholas sighs. “There’s a basketball court nearby and it’d be nice to play with my friends. Happy now?”

“What really is happiness?” you hum in thought, avoiding sinking into a philosophical blackhole, instead thinking about his revelation about the court and to some extent, the park. It might be a way to get Maki to come over to yours and hang out - you barely got to see him lately and you wanted to see how he was doing.    

“Hey, save the existential crisis for later and tell me if I can play basketball or not.” Nicholas pouts over a piece of tofu puff.

“I’m not about to choose an apartment based on that. Give me better reasons.” you shrug, coming down with a verdict that you were sure Nicholas wouldn’t like, but you weren’t about to just indulge him.

“Okay, let’s review; our own laundry room, underground parking, central location,” he lists, taking a moment to think between each one. “reasonable mortgage - hmm?” he wriggles his eyebrows the way you think those old school teleshopping people would but right now it feels more like the way a shady conman might. “Oh, and the park and the court.”

You purse your lips, weighing up the pros and cons. The place you’d chosen had some of the same perks - in terms of parking and location but there was no laundry room, just a machine in the kitchen and you didn’t love that. You mentally added the boba place to Nicholas’ list and the possibility of persuading your little brother to visit you so he wouldn’t forget you exist. 

Unfortunately, it made logical sense to pick the place with more perks and better price for value, but the whole thing sounded like Nicholas was fishing for a way to avoid you at home. 

On second thought, maybe that’s how you should consider it - it might give you opportunities to be independent of each other and not be constantly stuck together. You clear your throat and munch on a piece of rice cake for a moment.

“Fine, let’s take that one. I like doing laundry.” you say whatever nonsense that comes to mind. Nicholas is suddenly far too happy to pay attention to details. 

“Really?” his eyes are wide in surprise. “Okay, we better move fast then. I’ll send them an interest inquiry right now.” he forgets about the food and starts tinkering away on securing the apartment for you. 

You watch him, busy hands and roaming eyes. He pushes up the sleeves of his olive shirt - a comfy and clearly beloved cozy sweater - and focuses. You notice the details of his existence; his tense forearms, the tongue that swipes across his lips unconsciously, and the chain that hangs around his muscular neck. 

Sometimes it was hard to understand that you weren’t really strangers any more. 

You’d been married for two weeks already and had been seeing a lot more of each other than you thought you would before you lived together. There’d been several family and business dinners that had needed your presence but you went to each other’s places to eat occasionally while you looked at new apartments or planned your move.

So much for strangers. 

Nicholas was your husband now and you were his wife. It had already happened and you just needed to get used to it.

“YN?” you snap out of it, realising that you’d been spacing out while looking in his direction so he probably thought you were staring at him. 

“Yeah?”

He gives you a once over and goes back to his tapping on the screen. “Nothing, just checking you were still breathing.”

“I am.” you confirm, taking a deep breath in and exhaling. “See?” 

“Yeha.” Nicholas barely responds because he seems to have made progress on the inquiry. “And done. We should hear from them soon.” he smiles, pretty proud of himself. 

“Cool. Now we just have to somehow pack up our lives and smush them together in one place.” you say. 

“Don’t stress, it’ll be fine.” Nicholas says dismissively, getting back to his meal. 

“Let’s hope so.” you mumble and do the same. 

You had lived by yourself for a little while now, so living with someone else again all of a sudden was going to be a bit of shock to your system. 

The two of you had agreed to have your own rooms and your own space within the apartment, essentially cohabiting like roommates because nowhere did it say in any document you actually had to sleep in the same bed like a married couple would. 

You were married legally and in name only, as far as you were concerned. 

You drew up rules to keep the peace, basic things like keeping it clean, respecting each other’s space, and minding your own business, but you weren’t too worried about it. You were a great roommate, even if you did say so yourself.  

The apartment was secured over the weekend and you were free to move in from the following Thursday onwards. 

Several days later, your apartment was all packed up except for the bare minimum living essentials, which would come with you later. You helped the movers put your stuff in their van, telling them that they’ll meet your husband at the apartment while you hung back and sorted things out there. 

It’s sluggish to put the last few items in a box and double check your suitcase. You get a text from Nicholas that the movers have finished and are away already and you realise you’re moving slowly subconsciously; you didn’t want to leave yet.

You didn’t want to accept that you weren’t going to be the way you were any more. 

There was an echo of your footsteps that resonated through your now empty apartment, the space far too barren for your liking. In some ways you were glad, because you’d been able to negotiate which of your furniture you would keep and which you had to sell on since you had no need for it. 

Your precious couch and coffee table had survived and you were taking it with you, whereas Nicholas was bringing the dining table and chairs from his place with your somewhat enthusiastic approval. (The dining table was tastefully furniture to die for.) Your bedroom stuff had survived for the most part since you weren’t going to share any of it, but apart from that, you had to sell several things. 

You looked over your shoulder one last time at what used to be your place, before closing the door with a quiet click for the last time. It felt solemn; like the end of an era, so of course you were feeling a little sentimental. 

The drive to your new apartment was marred by heavy rain pouring down, the forecast for sunny clear skies completely wrong, so you drove slowly, putting on a sad ballad to match the mood. You were going to miss that place; it was somewhere you’d learned a lot about yourself, had your real taste of independence in and one that you cherished a lot. 

You get to your new front door, apartment 520* mounted in pretty gold letters against the dark emerald lacquer of the door. 

It felt like a betrayal when you entered the passcode for the first time and opened the door.

“Surprise!” you heard a yell as soon as stepped into the hallway. You jump slightly, suddenly snapped out of your thoughts. “Hey, roomie!” 

Nicholas was standing there grinning, all alone, blowing one of those annoyingly brightly coloured party blowers. The noise scratched a very specific part of your brain, and not in a good way. You moved to shove your shoes off.  

“Not exactly a surprise since we agreed to live here together, but okay.” you say shrugging and drag your suitcase into the corridor. 

“I guess,” Nicholas says. “but I just wanted to get one of these.” he holds up the party blower. 

“Great.” you move past him and look around for your furniture. You spot the stuff in your room and your couch is deposited randomly with your coffee table but what surprises you is that Nicholas’ stuff isn’t here yet. “Did something happen to the dining table, or?” you ask. 

“Ah,” he hums, thinking for a moment. “well, I’ve still got a few things to move since I was using Fuma’s van and it didn’t fit everything, so I sort of sacrificed the table. Sorry.” he finishes sheepishly. “Besides, isn’t it classic to eat on the floor the first night you move in somewhere new?” 

“It doesn’t matter if it’s a thing or not, I guess we’re doing it on the floor.” you say. 

“Huh?” Nicholas seems startled for a moment. “Doing what?” 

“Eating, duh.” you say. You wonder why that would have confused him; surely he wasn’t thinking you two were going to- oh my god, did he? No, you were just tired and imagining stupid things. You shake your head, “Whatever. I’m ordering. What do you want to eat?” 

And so you did eat on the floor on your first night in your new apartment, ignoring the perfectly good couch and sitting on a random blanket like an indoor picnic. 

It wasn’t all bad but there was a certain awkwardness being there, a little like the first time you’d met Nicholas. You just hoped you could get used to the apartment like you were getting used to him. 

* 

“No. I simply refuse.” you state as you stir your morning coffee. Nicholas sighs deeply, hunching over the kitchen counter. 

“But it’s a really good deal! We should go.” he argues. Instead of a debater, he sounds more like a kid trying to convince their parents to do something. You shook your head.

“I have things to do, you go if you really want to.” you say. Nicholas looks dubious - it’s the first time you’ve seen that expression on his face. 

“Mrs Wang-” you’re about to interject at the name calling but he doesn’t let you. “did you just tell me- your husband- to go on our honeymoon alone?” he asks, scepticism rising with every syllable. 

“You’re right. That sounds pathetic.” you concede. “Go with your friends. Make it a dude-bro-cation. Take Jo and Euijoo and…” you think hard, trying to remember names. “Fuma!” you snap your fingers, having remembered another one of Nicholas’ friends. 

“Don’t hurt yourself if you don’t know.” he says sarcastically.

“Hey! I met them one time,” you can’t help the defensive pout that you feel like came out. “and you have a lot of friends.” you mutter. 

“Not the point, YN. I’m not going without you.” Nicholas says. “This is practically a direct order from management, a.k.a the parents! And they’re offering to pay for everything.”

You sip your coffee, thinking. 

Your parents had dropped this bomb on you last night, telling you to go on a honeymoon while you were having dinner at your parents’ house. Both sides offered to pay for everything like they did with the wedding and call it a honeymoon for the two of you. 

It sounded fair enough.

You just didn’t feel like going though.     

You could go on vacation whenever you wanted to - you made enough money by yourself that you could splurge - but going now and officially calling it a honeymoon? It felt silly, like the cherry on top of this whole crazy arranged marriage business. 

“It’s just a vacation, why make it sound so - I don’t know.” you think out loud. 

“YN, please don’t make me beg you.” Nicholas’ shoulders slumped. “It’s a free vacation, for crying out loud! Who says no to that?” 

I would, you thought. You didn’t know what the situation in Nicholas’ office was, but in your office, department, part of hell, whatever you wanted to call it, you had to stick around if you didn’t want to be left behind or get your ass grilled by everyone else. 

You were already scrutinised enough for being the boss’ kid, but disappearing to go on a holiday with your husband just when the merger was really getting underway? You would get roasted con fuoco.

“You know what, I will beg,” Nicholas resolves, getting up. “I’m getting on my knees, I’m not above begging.” he announces before sliding off his slippers. It’s almost comical and you think he’s joking but he starts to bend down.

“Okay!” you exclaim, putting a stop to his buffoonery. “We’ll go on our stupid honeymoon.” 

You decided that whatever happened at work was better than having to hear him begging and bugging you about going until you agreed.

“That’s more like it.” he stands up straight, grinning. “I’m no fancy lawyer, but I know how to win in these situations.”

“You sure do, but do you ever think you’ll win your dignity back?” you say to him before leaving for your room. You leave him gapping after you in your kitchen.

“Who needs dignity? I’m going on vacation!” Nicholas calls after you, just before you close the door. 

*

The PA system crackles overhead and you fasten your seatbelt, getting ready for takeoff. 

Nicholas sits besides you, neck pillow already in place, as well as a fuzzy wolf sleeping mask placed over his forehead, the image of a travel diva personified in your husband. Of course he would be so extra for like a three hour flight.

You ignored him while you got comfy, pulling on your cardigan when they started to blast the AC down on you. 

“So, how remote is this island anyway?” Nicholas asks, sending one last text before switching his pone to flight mode. You pause to remember details on what you’d read. 

“Hmm, I’d say a lot. Something about limited signal and wifi.” you answer, shrugging. You’d fought tooth and nail about where you were going on vacation- no, honeymoon- and you’d compromised on the island since it had a beach, which is one thing you both wanted. 

Suddenly the air around you swishes. Nicholas whips around to look at you, desperate. 

“Are you sure about that?” he says with all but the zest of John Cena’s original delivery.

“Yes,” you say, silently edging away from him. “there’s this thing called ‘research’, ever heard of it?”

“Don’t patronise me.” Nicholas pouts, sitting back. You crack a smile.

“Ooh, big word for wittle Nichowas.” you chuckle, starting to think this vacation might actually be a good idea. You were going to watch your city-boy husband practically lose his mind in the jungle; it was going to be great. 

“Can’t you speak nicely?”

“No.” you say. 

“You are so incredibly frigid.” he shoots back. 

“Aha, I was born this way.” you take the opportunity to reach a quick hand and pull the fuzzy sleeping mask over his nose and mouth, snapping it lightly. He splutters slightly as he fights the wolf off his face. 

“Do you have a sarcastic reply to everything?” he huffs, putting the mask back in its place before you decided to redecorate his accessories. 

“Probably. Guess we’ll find out.” you hum, reaching into your pocket for chewing gum. You take a piece out then offer the pack to Nicholas, who also takes a piece in the most begrudging way. You smile to yourself, chewing as the plane takes off. 

This was going to be interesting.

*

Upon arriving, you felt two things: 

Firstly, the sweet smell of not answering work emails for ten days, and secondly, the colossal, mind-melting, soul-snatching humidity. It was horrific. As if you could practically taste it if you stuck your tongue out (you didn’t, though it crossed your mind).

You’d shed your cardigan, stuffing it into your carry-on bag and Nicholas had unbuttoned one more of his shirt’s top buttons. 

You make it out of the tiny airport, if you could call it that and not a helipad, and follow the signs to the shuttle bus that would take you to resort where your hotel was. 

After getting off the bus, your clothes sticking to your skin from the heat, you finally see the hotel up a short path. There was a lot of what you presumed was jungle or rainforest just outside the resort and it loomed majestically overhead behind the light chainlink fence that seemed to be placed there just for the thought of having it. 

“I could totally run away and live off the land, Robinson Crusoe style.” You muttered to yourself.

“What?”

“Intrusive thought. Nevermind.” you snapped out of it, continuing to walk. 

“Oh god,” Nicholas groaned miserably. “this island is literally in the middle of ass fuck nowhere!” 

You didn’t know what he was whining about, you’d both picked this place. “Your point?”

“We’re completely marooned - there’s like no signal, no wifi…” he complains while hoisting his phone up in the air as if it was the Lion King. 

“Don’t tell me you were actually planning on spending your vacation just watching TV in your room all day?” you throw a semi-judgmental glance at your husband over your shoulder. 

Nicholas pockets his phone silently and adjusts his shirt slightly from sticking to his body. You side-eye a couple of girlies that walk past you and gawk at Nicholas, obviously staring at the way the white fabric outlined the defined lines of his torso. You ignore the image and bulldoze forward to the hotel’s entrance.  

“Well, not all day, but now I can’t do it at all.” he says, disappointment evident in his voice. 

“Boo-hoo, the whole point of vacation is to chill. You can still do that perfectly fine.” you point out.      

“I like chilling,” he huffs. “Netflix and chilling, but now there’s no Netflix. Do you not see this may be the end of humanity as we know it?” he asks dramatically, eyes wider than a conspiracy theorist’s. 

“Hmm, not quite the crisis you imagine.” you reply. “Fortunately, there are these magical things - books - which have survived many millennia, and they seemed to have worked just fine for our ancestors.” 

“So what I’m hearing is, our vacation is, in fact, doomed.” Nicholas states as you walk into the hotel lobby, breathing in that delicious, stale air-conditioned air. You stop to bask in its coolness, breathing out in relief.    

“Your vacation,” you correct. “I’ll be paying my respects to my ancestors by reading.” 

“Ugh, well we can’t stay here. What are we going to do for ten days?” Nicholas asks. You wonder if he even heard what you said, but in his current state, you somehow doubted it. 

“You got a better idea?” you raise your eyebrows.

“I’ll build a raft, we can swim off the island.” he suggests. You’re about to lay down the most sarcastic, hard line of the century but the sound of thunder rumbling stops you. 

It was the loudest rumble you’d ever heard in your life and you suspected the lightning that preceded it might have struck not even several meters out of the door you’d momentarily walked through. The thought almost made you faint. 

“If you walk out of that door, Nicholas, so help me god.” you warn, wheeling your suitcase further into the building and away from the windows. 

“Noted.” he replies sheepishly, following your lead away from the windows, almost scrambling after you.  

Needless to say, it starts pouring torrential rain after that and while you check in, you can see the rain drops hammering violently on the window panes behind the concierge desk.

The lady there hands you a small card holder, telling you the keys are inside and you can’t really hear much else of what she says to you but it sounds like the standard if-you-need-anything-ring-the-phone mumbo jumbo so you thank her and go.

Little did you know, she’d warned you.   

You get up to the correct floor in search of your rooms, looking around while you navigate the soft-carpeted hallways. 

“One four three.” you mumble, trying to find the right number. You stop at the end of a corridor and take out the key card. You buzz the door open and push it forward. “Wait a minute-” you walk in several steps and circle back, thinking you’re losing your mind. 

“What is it?” Nicholas walks in, relaxed pulling in both of your suitcases. 

“I think there must be a mistake,” you say. “The suite only has one room. I thought we’d asked for two?” 

“Really?” Nicholas takes a few steps in, sweeping his eyes over the place and sure enough there is only one room. “That’s weird. Let me check with Jun-ge, he’s the one that booked our honeymoon.” Nicholas fumbles around with his phone for a bit, trying to find a signal for a minute. 

You vaguely remembered meeting Jun at your wedding; he was one of Nicholas’ big bro types at the company but you had no idea if he’d known about your marriage being arranged or not. 

Nicholas finally gets the phone to ring and the line crackles when it’s picked up on the other end. 

“Hello?” you hear Jun answer when Nicholas puts the phone on speaker. “Nicho, what’s up?”

“Hey, Jun-ge, quick question, do you remember booking our honeymoon suite?” he asks tentatively. 

“Yeah, is something wrong?” 

“Well, uh, we got here and it’s got just the one room, didn’t I put a note to find two rooms?” 

“You wrote ‘honeymoon suite’ and that’s what I got.” Jun replies, obviously not sensing that that was what was wrong with the whole situation. 

“Yes, Jun-ge, but I also wrote two rooms on the note, right?” 

“Dude, two-room honeymoon suites don’t exist.” you can hear Jun chuckling on the other end of the line. You were starting to regret not booking the rooms yourself. 

“Oh.” Nicholas says dumbly. “Okay, that’s cool, thanks Jun-ge.”

“Alright, kid, don’t have too much fun!” Jun laughs before hanging up. You look at Nicholas, attempting to hold your glare but you reckon it slips out regardless. 

“You wrote what in the note?” you ask, voice steadily quiet. 

“Two rooms.” Nicholas avoids your eyes and scratches the back of his neck, with the guiltiest look on his face.

“‘Honeymoon suite’!” you state, jogging his memory. “You couldn’t just leave that out, could you?” 

“Yeah, my bad.” Nicholas admits. 

“Right, well,” you walk into the actual bedroom part. There’s a super king sized bed that takes up most of the room, and it looks very comfortable. “I’ll gladiator fight you for the bed.” 

“That’s not very civilised of you, YN.” he muses. “Rock, paper, scissors-” Nicholas thinks he can take you by surprise, yelling out RPS unexpectedly, but you throw out your hand as a reflex,

“Shoot!” you finish, giving him a paper to his rock. He groans at the loss. 

“Best of three!” 

You roll your eyes before playing again, throwing out scissors this time intuitively. Nicholas threw paper and then sunk to the ground.

“Hah!” you grinned at your victory. “You should have taken your chances in a fight, but I think I would have won that too.” you shrug, faux sympathy coating your voice. Karma’s a bitch, but so were you. “Enjoy sleeping in the bath.”

“Bath?” Nicholas snaps up and runs off to check. 

Indeed, there was no couch in the suite, only a dinning room set up in the small living space, complete with a TV mounted to the wall and a grand bathroom that separated from the master bedroom. Besides a generously spacious shower cabin, there is a huge white bath in the middle of the bathroom, practically the size of a jacuzzi and though giant by nature, Nicholas would probably fit in it. 

He comes back to find you getting comfortable sitting on the bed, legs crossed gloatfully as you watched your husband lose his mind and it was only day one. 

“Fine. Be cruel. I’m fine. It’s fine.” he says, sounding less than convinced. 

“Is it though?” you smirk, loving the way he’s trying to stomach the loss but failing. 

“Yes. Totally. Fine.”

You don’t press it further but lie back on the bed, letting the mattress swallow you up. Vacation wasn’t so bad after all. You might not have Netflix, but you had a personal drama king right in front of you.  

You didn’t get to do anything for the rest of the day since it was storming outside but you had dinner down at the restaurant and eventually went to bed, or in Nicholas’ case, to the bath.

The next morning, you wake up naturally, blissfully rested and stretch with all the grace of a cat. You slept like a rock on this gorgeous bed and you really had to thank Jun for booking this particular room. 

You get up, quietly, and pad over to the bathroom, the door still closed. You pause, then knock on lightly. “Nicholas?” you ask. 

There’s a sleepy groan on the other side of the door, and then a thud. You panic for a second.

“Hey, I’m coming in!” you warn and work the handle. You find Nicholas in the bath in his pyjamas, blanket half-thrown off and the pillow lying on the floor. That explains the thud. “You okay?”

“Hmm,” he grunts, eyes still closed. He shuffles slightly, pulling the blanket and curling up on his side. 

“Alright, well, good morning to you too.” you mutter and leave. 

A while later, a disheveled Nicholas emerges from the bathroom. It must have been the smell of coffee that got him moving because you’re about to drink your first and hopefully only cup of the day. 

“About time, Sleeping Beauty.” you glance at him. You note he most certainly is not a happy ducky in the morning; there’s a deep frown on his face and his posture is giving an uncanny resemblance to a deflated balloon animal. 

“Hmm.” he responds with another grunt. You weren’t sure when exactly, but some time between last night and this morning, your husband seems to have been replaced with a cave man. The two of you hadn’t crossed paths too often in the mornings, so it was kind of news to you to see him like this.  

You sigh and put your coffee down, getting up to go to the pot and pour him a cup. Nicholas sits down stiffly in the opposite chair and you deposit it in front of him. Instead of trying to make conversation with a prehistoric species, you go back to your book, but you see he drinks the coffee. 

Twenty minutes later, you swap the location and find yourselves downstairs having a late breakfast (you refused to call it brunch), munching on whatever to start your day. 

Nicholas looks more like himself now, but you can sense the obvious discomfort from the way he keeps trying to massage his neck and shoulders discreetly, or stretches to try and work the muscle there. He’s wearing a loose fitting, linen button up and every move seems to expose a lot of skin but while you’re trying to ignore it, it doesn’t mean everyone else is. 

People who are sitting at the neighbouring table are throwing occasional slightly suspicious glances. There are some not so discreet wives checking your husband out and not minding their own and even some pretty waitresses smiling as they pass by. You roll your eyes as one in particular can’t seem to look away as she brings you a plate of fruit.

“What?” Nicholas notices that you’re making a face. He himself seems to be oblivious on the other hand. 

“Nothing. Eat your strawberries.” you say quickly, keeping a poker face. You could almost see the smug look that would appear on his face if you told him people were checking him out, so you stayed quiet.

“Right.” 

Back upstairs, Nicholas perches on the vanity table on one side of the room while you rummage around in your suitcase looking for some clothes. You’re aware of how he’s shifting awkwardly and you stop and turn to him. 

“I’m listening.” you state. Nicholas doesn’t say anything for a moment, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek and then the other side. 

“Please can I sleep in the bed?” he asks finally. 

“Hey, you lost fair and square.” you go back to looking for your swimsuit. Nicholas tilts his head.

“I’m not hearing a ‘no’.” he hums. 

“No.” you say for good measure. “Happy?” 

“Not at all.” he replies. You think he’s going to give it a rest but then a second later he speaks again. “Fine, if I have to sleep in the bath, then give me a massage.” 

“Why me?” 

“Because you’re here.” he says like it’s obvious. “Ooh, better yet, buy me medicine and rub it on my shoulders.” he smiles, hopeful. You knew what he was doing but despite that, it was working. 

You scrunch your forehead, the idea less than appealing to you. You look from Nicholas to the bed, then to Nicholas again, weighing it up in your head. The bed was big enough, you were just going to have to stay on one side. You didn’t want to cause permanent damage after all. (It might scar you for life to massage medicine over his shoulders. And you guess it could do something to his posture or whatever.) 

“Ugh,” you spit out. “alright. You can sleep on one side of the bed.” you specified. “I’m not giving you the whole thing.” 

“Pleasure negotiating with you, Mrs Wang.” Nicholas grins and disappears before you can tell him off for the name calling. 

You get dressed, slipping on your one piece swimsuit and throwing on some shorts, and take your book down to the pool. The weather had cleared up completely compared to yesterday’s torrential downpour and the sun is shining brightly. The pool itself is located in a slightly more sheltered area and it doesn’t look like there was any damage from the rain.

You smile to yourself and find a nice lounge chair to camp out at. You adjust your sunglasses and open your book again to continue where you’d left off. 

“Are your ancestors proud of you yet?” you hear a voice ask before you feel a weight settle near your legs on the lounge chair. You don’t look up at Nicholas, before replying. 

“I don’t know, maybe you should go ask them.” you retort. 

“Oh, I will,” he says. “in like hopefully seventy to eighty years.”

You hum in response, not particularly feeling like playing along right now. Nicholas shuffles about, and you finally look up. 

Big mistake. 

You find him unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his frame. You blinked twice, trying to tear your eyes away from him. 

“Look after this, please.” he says after a moment, indicating to his discarded shirt. It lay half folded next to your bare leg. 

“Sure.” you mumbled. You watched as he threw you an acknowledging half smile and got up. You couldn’t help yourself for a moment; you stared after him. 

It was ground breaking actually. 

You’d not really given it much thought since your predicament was rather serious - life sentence married to a man you didn’t love and all that - but you had eyes and you noticed that your new husband was actually quite hot. 

Who would have thought? 

You clocked the well rounded muscle of his shoulders and back and his toned biceps, and though you avoided really looking (as in, you didn’t pull your shades down), the modest set of abs that graced his torso.

“How novel.” you observed out loud then went back to your book. You didn’t need to ogle at your husband; you weren’t a horny teenager any more. Moreover, this information changed nothing in your life whatsoever. You were still shackled together and sinking to the bottom of the ocean.  

You hear your name being called some time later.

Putting your bookmark in place, you look up to find Nicholas resting on the edge of the pool, his arms crossed and chin resting on top. 

“Yes?” you inquire, taking off your sunglasses to see him better. 

“Can you help me get out?” he asks, looking a little shifty, glancing side to side but there’s no one in your immediate vicinity. Just some people down the other end. You figured it was probably lunch time so it was quiet. 

“Huh?” you’re confused at the request. 

“It’s the deep end. I’m tall, but I’m not that tall.” he admits sheepishly. You guess he must be embarrassed to ask you for help. 

What doesn’t cross your mind is why a) he didn’t go to a shallower part of the pool, b) he didn’t cross to the opposite side and use the ladder!, or c) someone of his stature would struggle getting out of a pool. 

You get up and walk to the edge, extending a hand to him. Nicholas takes your hand in his wet one and you start to pull. 

Except you’re pulling but it’s not working. In fact, the world is suddenly tilting and you’re diving head first into the pool, gravity and Nicholas taking you in with him. You would have yelped but you close your mouth on instinct as you go down so you don’t get a mouthful of water.

The coolness of the water engulfs you suddenly and you struggle to orientate your way up to the surface again. You break through with an angry gasp for air. 

“Wang Yixiang!” you sputter loudly, venom filling up your veins. You hear his laugh somewhere nearby and you wipe your eyes, trying to locate him. He’s a foot away, also drenched, wet hair hanging in his face but smiling widely.

“Here, Sergeant!” he gives you a silly salute and you start toward him, eyes full of vengeance.

“Come back,” you demand after he starts swimming away from you. 

He’s not particularly fast and you manage to grab his hand and yank him back toward you. There’s a lot of water resistance but you’re adrenalised to you manage to get him to change direction. 

“Hey, c’mon, don’t be mad.” he says, well aware that today might be his last day as an alive person. You ignore him and do your best to try and dunk him. It doesn’t really work because he uses your strength against you and the two of you just spin around. You’re off balance and trying to just tread water even though here Nicholas could stand up, which was quite unfair. He stills suddenly. “Oh my god, look!” 

“Not falling for that one, dude,” you say, thinking he was trying to distract you from trying to dunk him. 

“No, really, two o’clock, it’s that man, uh, what did he do again?” Nicholas wracks his brain for a moment. 

“My two o’clock or yours?” you realise he’s being serious and you think to check. 

“Yours. The man with the moustache, we met him at the wedding.” You think back and try to place the description. You’re floating so you manoeuvre around to be able to glance in the right direction.

Sure enough you spot the person Nicholas was talking about. You saw him but he hadn’t spotted you yet.  

“Shit, it’s the tyre guy.” you say. 

“Right, that’s the one.” Nicholas agrees, as if the answer is now clear to him. 

“You had no idea who that man was, did you?” you ask.

“Not a clue,” he admits. “I was grasping at straws. He seemed familiar.” And you realise that it had worked. 

Yet, also it was that man; what was he doing here? Was he on vacation too? From what you remembered he was some business partner on your parents’ side. Your father had introduced you once before and then once at the wedding.��

You freeze, forgetting to tread water. 

Nicholas seems to notice you stop moving and grabs your waist, holding you up so you don’t start to sink. Your hands come up between you as a buffer and slap gently against his chest but you ignore what’s going on in front of you, deep in thought. 

Why was he here of all places? Was it a coincidence? What were the odds of that happening? 

What if your parents had sent him here to spy on you? That was possible right? Surely they wouldn’t do that though, you’d agreed to go on the honeymoon, that was enough, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

You close your eyes, feeling like your sanity was slipping away; it sounded like the type of thing they’d do. Just to make sure you were behaving. 

“Hey, YN, what’s wrong?” Nicholas squeezes your waist, trying to get your attention. You snap back to reality, seeing his concerned face a few inches away from your own. You hand’t noticed how close you were so you let go of Nicholas, breaking out of his grip gently. 

“Nothing,” you say as you swim toward the nearest ladder. 

You were definitely annoyed, your parents couldn’t just leave you alone, could them?

*          

After your early dinner, during which you constantly looked over your shoulder in case you spotted the tyre man, you go back to your room to continue reading. You hadn’t run into that man after all, but it was only a matter of time.  

Nicholas takes the opportunity to shower first after being in the pool, not that you were picky or going to fight him for it. 

The door of the bathroom opens some time later and he emerges with a towel around his head and one around his waist. You try to mind your own business but he’s rummaging around his own suitcase for ages, so damn loudly, might you add, humming and hawing at what to wear. 

You glare in his direction, but his back is to you, and all you see is the excess droplets on his skin snaking their way down his back-

“You having a good time there, Mrs Wang?” he turns around and catches you staring. Your eyes narrow at the name calling and you decide he does it to get a rise out of you, so you don’t give him the satisfaction.  

“I would have a better time if you had the capacity to make faster decisions.” you retort, looking down to your book as he straightens up. 

“No can do, you’d rather me wear clothes in bed, wouldn’t you?” he asks inquisitively. 

“If you dared do otherwise, you would find yourself in a very comfortable chair-” you pause. “in the lobby.” you finish curtly. 

Nicholas raises his hands innocently, giving you a quiet ‘okay’ before going back to the bathroom to get dressed. A minute later you hear the hair dryer come on and another minute he’s back to bug you. 

“Didn’t you finish that book yet?” he asks, trying to see the cover as he went past. 

“No, I started this one an hour ago.” you say. 

“What?” he stops in pure shock. “How many books did you bring?” he exclaims. 

“Ten.” you look up, giving him a tight lipped smile. “One for each day.”

Nicholas looks at you in awe, shaking his head. “YN, you really are something.” he says. “But this cannot be. Your eyes will glaze over, we’re watching TV, c’mon.” he prompts you to move over a little where you’re leaning against the headboard of the bed. 

You shuffle slightly to the right, but don’t let go of your book even as he grabs the remote and switches on the TV. It’s a decently sized flat screen mounted on the wall in front of you, adjacent to the small dinning table. 

Nicholas hops on the bed beside you, mimicking your stretched legs, crossed at the ankles. The noise starts to distract you only because he’s channel flipping for a minute before he settles on something. 

“Perfect.” he mumbles and puts the remote down. You glance up at the screen and see the film name. 

“Really?” you ask, closing your book with a loud smack. “You’re going to watch Cast Away while we are on a remote island on vacation?” 

“No,” he replies. “We’re going to watch Cast Away while we are on a remote island on our honeymoon.” 

“Yes, because that makes all the difference.” you mutter. You give in regardless since the movie keeps playing and you may as well pay attention. 

It’s kind of a long film but it’s not bad. You do at one moment overthink it and imagine what you’d do if you were in the same situation - you were halfway there anyway on this island - but you stop yourself because that kind of thinking was not a good idea. It would scare you unnecessarily. 

It gets to the part where Tom Hanks is trying to get off the island on his raft and loses his beloved friend, the volleyball. You watch as he yells, trying to stay afloat. It made you a little emotional and you look away for a moment only to notice Nicholas is watching intently, his own eyes glassy and lips tight. 

It fascinates you for a moment to see him like that since it was a wholly new side to him but you will yourself to look away, reaching to the bedside and pulling a tissue out of the box, handing it wordlessly to your husband. 

“Thanks.” he says under his breath and you hum just as quietly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking about the wifi signal.” he sniffles. “I miss it so much.” he admits, raising a fist to his mouth. You nod, as if understanding, when in reality you’d basically popped the champagne when you found out there was no wifi.   

After the film finishes, it’s starting to get late so you pop off for a quick shower, wanting to get the chlorine off your body before sleeping. 

You brush your teeth and put on a t-shirt and sleeping shorts and get to bed. Nicholas joins you after brushing his teeth and turning off the big light. 

“Right,” you say, getting Nicholas’ attention. “Here is a line, it’s invisible but it exists, so stick to your side of the bed, please and thank you.”

“No problem. You won’t even know I’m here.” he nods obediently. “So shall we get to bed, Mrs Wang?”

You stop fluffing your pillow at his silly question and turn to give him a stink face. 

“You’re never going to stop calling me that, are you?” you ask. 

“Nope, not until death do us part.” he shows you a toothy grin. 

It suddenly occurs to you that while you had shared your reasoning for giving into the marriage, Nicholas so far hadn’t really commented on the topic. You frown. Why hadn’t he mentioned that yet?

“That’s weird.” you say, continuing on your train of thought.

“Not really, it’s pretty standard for marriages.” 

“No, not that.” you shake your head. Starting to overthink it.  

“What then?” Nicholas asks as he lies down on his side. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice there must be something in it for you to agree to this union.” you say sceptically. 

“Pfft. Union. You make it sound so formal.” he replies sarcastically. You notice he isn’t offering any insights.  

“Well, we are legally bound together, unfortunately. I suppose it’s serious.” you reason.

“Yeah, so serious. Like donkeys pulling on a cart.”

“Don’t change the subject.” you quip. “I don’t know what it is you want, but I will find out and hold it over your head like a guillotine.” you warn, annoyed at the sudden suspicious toward the man now in your bed. 

Was this a defence mechanism - getting suspicious as soon as someone got close to you? 

“Can’t wait, ma cherie*. I hope your revolution works out.” Nicholas sighs, turning off the lamp on his side. 

“Impeccable attempt at humour, mon ange*.” you roll your eyes before reaching to your bedside lamp. “And by the way, donkeys pull their own damn carts.” you say, flipping the switch and turning your back to him. 

You fall asleep faster than you expected but it certainly has its drawbacks. 

For one, every once in a while you wake up because Nicholas has somehow managed to roll to your side of the bed and is hogging your area with his giantness, limbs splaying all over you, waking you up. 

You manage to shoulder him off you gently, using your strength to roll him back to his side and it seems he’s a heavy sleeper because he doesn’t wake when you end up pushing him away with your knees. 

You go back to sleep, satisfied that he’s far away enough from you that you can sleep in peace, only to wake up the next morning feeling incredibly warm and suffocated. 

That’s because Mr You-Won’t-Even-Know-I’m-Here has a vice grip on you; one leg thrown over yours and one heavy arm thrown over your waist while his face is tucked into your hair, as if you were one of those long, huggable body pillows.

You open your eyes and reach for your phone to check the time. It was 9-ish so you decide that’s enough anyway. You were going to wake him up. 

“Nicholas?” you say, voice croaky. You shuffle slightly, managing to drop his leg off of yours but the arm stays around your waist. “Nicholas?” you try again, patting his bicep gently. This time he stirs slightly, a low hum rumbling in his chest. You feel the vibration on your back and think you’re making progress. 

It’s difficult but you shimmy out from under his loosened grip and sit up while he automatically rolls on his back, eyes still closed. 

“Unbelievable.” you shake your head, looking down at his sleeping figure, before getting up. He looks way too peaceful and it makes you a little mad. You make no effort to be quiet since he was still out cold and probably won’t wake up for ages so you get ready for the day, make some coffee and sit with your book. 

Some time later, your husband finally decides to open his eyes and you look in his direction when he sits up and stretches, yawning like a cat. 

“Ah,” he exhales gruffly. “this bed is dope, oh my god.” he comments. “Did you sleep well?” he asks nonchalantly. You send a death glare in his direction, making him shrink back slightly. 

“I would have,” you start through gritted teeth. “if you weren’t trying to strangle me.” 

“Huh?” he has the nerve to look genuinely confused. “Did I do something?” he asks, meek all of a sudden. 

“I don’t know if anyone has ever told you,” you get up, getting closer to the bed. “but you are a heinous koala when you sleep!” you say pointedly, before going into the bathroom to get some sunscreen out of your makeup bag. 

“Nuh-uh,” you hear Nicholas call out. He has the audacity to disagree. You’re back out in a split second, listening expectantly. “Apologise to koalas, that was uncalled for.” he finishes. You’re taken aback; you thought he’d call bullshit and say you’d imagined it. 

You huff but ultimately concede; the creatures had never done anything to you personally. “Sorry, koalas.” you mumble and sit in front of the vanity to apply sunscreen on your face.

“Listen, I’m sorry,” Nicholas says, getting up. “I know I’m practically an ogre in the mornings, but I can’t help it.”  

“At least you’re self-aware.” you reply. “I’ll tolerate it for eight more days, but you’re on thin ice.” 

“Alright.” he says, closing the bathroom door. 

*

The next few days, the weather improves significantly and the two of you end up going to the beach or chilling by the pool. You even go to do this snorkelling lesson with an instructor and swim near some coral reefs, enjoying the beautiful crystal clear ocean. 

You also end up going to a spa for some random treatments out of boredom and a massage, which you weren’t too hot on but Nicholas begged you to join him since he didn’t want to go alone. (That and he said that you wouldn’t go because you were comfortable being a tense control freak. So of course you had to prove him wrong by sticking around. It was worth it.)

Another day you end up going out in a boat and fishing with some other guests at the resort. You had to admit, you were definitely having fun despite not having wanted to even go on vacation. Going fishing wasn’t something you’d ever thought about doing, yet here you were.

It’s then that you run into the tyre man for the first time. 

Fishing; you should have known that’s where you’d meet the middle aged businessman.

“Mrs Wang!” you hear a hearty voice greet you when he spots you. You almost grimace - you wished you’d told people to keep calling you by your own family name. Nicholas seems slightly startled next you while he holds his fishing rod. 

“Hi, Mr Lee, what a surprise!” you say, lying shamelessly. You’d been expecting to bump into him before he left. “How are you doing?” 

The man stops next to your spot at the rail of the boat, his own rod in hand and some bait in a bowl in the other. A woman joins him and you remember that’s his wife, whom you’d also met at the wedding. You greet her politely too. 

“Ah, well, we’re just out for some relaxation. You know how it is, can’t be cooped up in the office all the time.” Mr Lee replies. He doesn’t seem suspicious and you sense it could be possible that this was a coincidence and not a conspiracy. But you intuition doesn’t let up.  

“Right, of course.” you nod along. “We’re just here on our honeymoon.” you say, nudging Nicholas beside you. 

“Aha, really wanted to spend this special time in a special place.” he adds smoothly. 

“As well, you should. You’re young and in love, you shouldn’t waste away in an office.” he commends you. Was he testing you? Why mention love at all? What did he know?  

“Very true.” you say. “So, how long are you staying?” you ask casually.

“Oh, um, until Thursday.” he says, and you latch onto the slight air of awkwardness when he says that. You were staying until Friday, which was a little too close to your liking. “We really like it here but there’s no place like home, right?”

“Indeed,” you smile artificially. “Well, we should let you go. Enjoy the rest of your trip, we’ll see you back at home, Mr Lee. Mrs Lee.” you say politely, greeting each of them in turn. 

“Yes, thank you, we will. Y’know, there is a special event being held by the hotel on Wednesday, you should come along.” Mr Lee says. You wonder for a moment if that was bait. If it was then you were going to make him think he could hook, line and sink you. 

“Oh really?” you say, exaggeratedly fascinated. “Well, I guess we’ll have to think about it. No promises though; you know how hard it is to leave the bedroom on your honeymoon.” you drawled with a straight face. 

You hoped he would give that direct quote to your parents and make them as flustered as he looked right now. 

“Right, see you.” 

And with that you exchange some more polite nods, and separate, the Lees terrorised and Nicholas wide eyed to your left as he cast out his fishing rod.

“YN, I gotta hand it to you, you’re really scary sometimes.” he says so only you can hear him. 

“Only sometimes?” you reply, putting the bait on your line. “Guess I should work harder then.”

“Remind me to not get on your bad side again.” he says. 

“Oh buddy,” you sigh. “after using me as a body pillow, you have a reserved spot and VIP access.”

*

The next couple of days, the humidity is unbearable and if it isn’t, then it’s the heat. 

You’d been trying to sleep, but it was just too damn hot and the air con wasn’t doing much to help it. You’d shed any blankets and just had sheets instead, but even those got thrown off. 

Eventually Nicholas pokes you hesitantly in the middle of the night.

“You sleeping?” he whispers. You shift, then answer. 

“I was trying to.” you reply. 

“YN, it’s really hot, can we take off our clothes?” he asks. Perhaps the question would have flustered you if you weren’t completely baking right now. You don’t open your eyes but you nod.

“Yeah, I don’t want either of us passing out from excessive heat.” you agree and shrug off your shorts but realise that you needed to get up and put on a bra or cami since there was nothing under your t-shirt. “Damn it.” you mutter and get up, in search of something to wear. 

You settle on a thin camisole and hop back into bed. Nicholas has shed his shorts and shirt and is lying, just staring at the ceiling in his underwear, his hands behind his head. You don’t let your eyes linger, mostly because they’re too tired and you want to close them again. 

You read the clock on your phone, finding it was just past 4 in the morning. You sigh and lie back down.

Neither of you seems to be able to fall asleep again, the dawn light getting more intense past your curtains. 

“You awake?” Nicholas asks, shifting slightly. 

“Yeah.” you say, turning to face him. You spot the silver chain around his neck and the way it reflects the early morning light.

“What if we’re married for a long time?” he asks in the darkness. “Like for years?”

You wonder what sparked that thought. “We’ll just have to deal with it.” you reply. 

“Yeah, but eventually we’re going to start having needs.” Nicholas glances at you. “Like I’m going to want to sleep with someone and you’re going to want to sleep with someone. Then what? Do we sleep with other people? Do we sleep with each other? How do we get around that?”

The whole train of questions catches you off guard, however with even a second of consideration, you realise he’s raised a very valid concern. What would you do? It made you realise your marriage was more doomed than you’d thought. 

“You’re right. It’s a hard question that I don’t have the answer to.” you lament.

“Right,” he says, pausing for a while. “I guess, for me, I wouldn’t want to sleep with other people - I’d feel like I was cheating on you even if we agreed to go out and do that.”

“Really?” you’re genuinely surprised at the revelation. “You would feel like that even though you have no feelings for me?”

“Well yeah, we’re married and all that. And we’re friends right?”

You find yourself nodding in the darkness. “Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t feel nice to do that to a friend.”

“Would you sleep with someone else?” 

You take a moment to think. “Probably not. I’d keep thinking about you, waiting for me at home, in our house. I wouldn’t be able to do it.” you tell him honestly. 

It strikes you that this was possibly the deepest conversation you’d had so far, fittingly left for the middle of the night. 

“‘Our house’.” he repeats, tasting the words and letting them float up above you and into the early dawn gloom. 

“Strange, right?” you muse. 

“So, what are we concluding on the topic?” he asks, looking at you.

“The jury’s still out.” you shrug, unconvinced. 

“So diplomatic, Mrs Wang.” Nicholas laughs quietly.  

“Will you stop calling me that?” you yawn.

“Nah, it’s fun. You get so worked up about it.” he tells you. 

“So you like raising my blood pressure?” you inquire.

“Well, if we’re going to be married for years, I gotta find a way to entertain myself, don’t I?”

“You are a menace.” you state, no force behind your words. 

“Thank you. Right back at you.”

“Hah, I got news for you. This town is only big enough for one menace, and if it’s gonna be one of us damn it, it’s gonna be me.” you say stoically, but burst out laughing a split second later after hearing yourself back. You were feeling goofy; it was 4am. Nicholas finds it equally funny and laughs with you. 

It was then that you felt like you were finally comfortable around each other, at least enough to be staying up until morning, laughing about bullshit while lying around in your underwear.

Because that’s totally the sort of thing married friends did, right?

*

You wake up, barely conscious and notice your arm is slightly trapped. Then you realise why; you were tucked into Nicholas’ side, your head on his shoulder, hand on his bare chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under your fingers. It would have been a surprise and you would have scrambled off, but your limbs were too tired and too comfortable for any excessive movement.

Your eyes close again, and you let yourself drift off even though you had half the thought about what kind of dramatic reaction Nicholas might have to find you in that position after you’d given him a mouthful about being a koala. In your defence, it was his arm around you keeping you smushed together. 

The next time you wake up, you’re lying on your back, Nicholas still right next to you. You get up quietly, starting to get ready for the day. 

You’d agreed to go to that event thing the Lees had told you about because you’d mentioned to Nicholas that this could be some kind of ploy by your parents and you wanted to investigate. There was ice cream and booze so he didn’t need much convincing really. (Neither did you, if you were honest; you could use a bit of both).

Just as you’re putting the finishing touches of your makeup, Nicholas stirs and yawns loudly before sitting up. He spots you before the vanity, basically ready and checks the time. 

“Jeez, why didn’t you wake me?” he asks, swinging off the bed and hurrying to the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, did you just hear yourself?” you call out to him. “Wake? You up?” you cap your mascara and get up, walking over to lean on the bathroom doorframe, arms crossed. You see Nicholas scrambling about, large form folded over the tiny sink, to brush his teeth at a furious speed. “I would rather go wake an actual sleeping lion up.” 

“Fwine, bwut you clould at weast teth am aalarm.” he says through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response, dude.” you walk away, letting him struggle with the mint foam. 

When you get down to lunch (it was far too late to even attempt calling it brunch), you find that the event the Lees mentioned was going to start in just over an hour (it really was late thanks to your middle of the night joint existential crisis). 

After you finish eating, you make your way to the large garden of the hotel where the thing was going to take place. You were walking in blind pretty much, having no idea what on Earth was going on. 

There are at least ten or so tables set up and about twice as many guests, mostly couples by the look of it, seated within the area. There’s a small square mat or something of the sort in front of the tables, supposedly like a makeshift stage. Was this going to be some kind show? 

You spot the Lees just as promised at one of the tables and you start to look for another place to sit, but they notice you and call you over. 

“Shit,” you mutter, automatically reaching to your side to find Nicholas’ hand. 

“Double shit,” he says, taking your hand and lacing your fingers, and you look back at him. “look.” he motions to a poster propped up on an easel. 

You feel like you’re about to find some harder expletives when you read the words written in big bubble letters: 

COUPLES CONTEST 

“Oh my-” you can’t even finish the sentence.

You’d just walked into the adult version of those awkward middle school events that teachers would try to entertain students with.  

“We could still leave?” Nicholas suggests quietly. You want to agree but Mrs Lee is smiling from across the garden at you, sipping on her drink. 

“Too late.” you conclude and start walking to the half-filled table. 

“Well, you don’t know they’re spies for your parents.” Nicholas mumbles unhelpfully. “We might just hang out politely.” 

You reach the table and greet the Lees. You take a seat closest to Mrs Lee and Nicholas away from both of them. You felt like you were acting like protective buffer between him and them. 

“Oh YN, I just got off the phone with your mother-” Mrs Lee gushes to you immediately. “you remember we’re both part of that book club?” she says, as if it’s explanatory that she would be close to your mother. “Anyways, we were talking about how maybe you should join too, it might be fun. You could make friends with the other ladies there,” she suggests, “and between you and me,” she leans closer as if the men at the table can’t hear you. “it’s where we go to get away from our husbands, but shh!” 

You’re having a multitude of reactions under the surface (including searing rage towards your mother, wanting to sink into the ground out of awkwardness, and disappointed smugness that you were right that they were in cahoots with your parents) but you give her a polite chuckle and smile. 

You know she was just trying to be her version of friendly, for some reason that being recruiting you into some kind of married-women-who-don’t-want-to see-their-husbands exclusive club, so you don’t get too mad. 

“Well, I do like reading, but I think I think I like my husband more.” you reply, lightly rejecting the offer. You turn to look at Nicholas, giving him an ‘I-told-you-so’ face while he sighs contemplatively. You were also hung up on the fact that this woman called your mother more than you did, so who knows what other wack ideas she might have. 

“Darling, I don’t think Mrs Wang wants to go to that stuffy book club.” Mr Lee cuts in awkwardly. “Besides, these two are much younger than us, they should go on dates and enjoy themselves instead of boring themselves with books.” 

Oh boy, this was going to be a long afternoon. 

You had a lot to say but you weren’t going to utter a single syllable. Nicholas looks down helplessly, and you guess he’s trying to keep himself from laughing.  

Fortunately, at that pause in your conversation, you spotted two people walking up to the square ‘stage’. They looked like hotel employees, judging from their Hawaiian style shirts, one with a loud tiger print and the other with a large flower pattern. They were carrying microphones and tapped on them to check they were working. 

“Hello?” the flower guy said. His voice came out through the modest speakers set up on either side of the segregated area. He seems satisfied and so does his friend. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to our monthly couples contest!” he paused for a polite round of applause. “My name is Boo and I will be one of your MCs today.”

“And I’m Hoshi, your other MC this afternoon. We have a great few rounds of fun lined up for you and an exciting prize for the winning team.” the guy with the tiger print continues. 

“That’s right,” Boo says. “there are three games where each of our teams will compete head to head in an attempt to do the impossible - be the best couple!” 

“Firstly, if you take a look around, you will find our lovely assistant Dino coming around with some name tags; please take one and write your names on them.” Hoshi says. You did notice a guy in a regular employee shirt walking around and depositing said name tags on each table swiftly. 

“Alright, to start off, we have a game that will test your communication skills.” Boo announces. “The game is called ‘scream in silence’; here are the rules…”

You listen carefully as he explained it, even though you had seen this game played before. It was fairly simple so you thought you and Nicholas might do well at it. You just couldn’t believe you were trapped in a middle school dance on your honeymoon. 

“Okay, firstly, we’re going to need to split you up so that we can get through the game faster. Each of us will conduct a round and tally up the scores for you.” Hoshi takes over. Two of them split up the crowd into two and ask for the first teams to come to two chairs facing each other set up by Dino on each side of the area. 

You get split up from the Lees (thankfully) and end up sitting on Hoshi’s side of the garden. 

The game starts and you watch as one person out of the couple starts trying to mouth the correct word to the other as they both wear a pair of large noise cancelling headphones. It’s pretty fun since people are really awful at lipreading. 

You’re the third couple in your half of the crowd and you sit down in the opposite seat to Nicholas, the two of you putting on the headphones. It almost blows your mind how much you couldn’t hear through the headphones, and that was before Hoshi turned the music on. He held up the first word. 

“Lawn mower.” you said, trying your best to enunciate to Nicholas. His face immediately scrunches up, squinting at you from seven feet away. “Lawn mower!” you repeat. 

He mouths something that looks a lot like “Slower!” back to you and you shake your head, sure it was wrong. He tries again but you cut him off, starting to feel yourself becoming competitive. 

“La-wn mo-wer!” you try to break it down but he seems more confused. “Pass!” you shake your head. 

“Fishing.” you say as Hoshi shows you the next word. Nicholas blinks at you.

“Kissing?” he replies, frowning at the word. You weren’t sure how you managed to lip read it but you were sure that’s what he was saying. 

“No, fi-shing!” you attempt to break it down. “Fi-shing!” you were starting to get frustrated, your voice rising in decibels. “Fi-shing!” 

“Missing!” Nicholas tried again. You sighed.

“Pass!” you requested again. The next one was a phrase and it made you hesitate. “I love you.” you called out, just focusing on reading the phrase and not thinking about it. You felt so flustered saying it out loud, your face warming up and blood pressure rising. You didn’t think you’d ever actually say those words, especially not to your husband. 

Nicholas shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know.” you think he said. You steeled yourself, growing frustrated again, mostly with the appearance of the phrase and the way it mocked your situation. 

“I love you.” you tried again, saying it louder this time, as if he would hear you.

“Above you?” Nicholas said. You looked up, rolling your eyes at his denseness. 

“I love you, you bastard!” you screamed out, lying aggressively, noticing that people in your group were pissing themselves with laughter. 

Nicholas paused for a moment, mouth slightly ajar as the cogs turned in his head. The eureka moment came finally and he clapped his hands together. That got your attention and you perked up expectantly. 

“I love you!” he yelled back. Hoshi gave you an approving sign, telling you you secured a point. 

“And the time is up!” Hoshi declared, raising a hand and doing a slicing action at his neck to let you know since you couldn’t really hear him. You were more than happy to take those humongous headphones off and return to your seat. “That’s one point for YN and Nicholas!” he says while there’s a scattered round of applause. 

You go sit down and try to ignore what just happened. Nicholas does too, watching the game ahead of you.

There’s only one other couple in your group that manages to score a point, one Hanbin and Hao, who were just as tragically terrible at the game but very cute while they played it.

“And that’s the first round over,” Boo announces. “Let us tally the scores - oh my! This was not your lucky day every one, but we do have two couples who scored and are therefore in the lead.”

“Don’t be discouraged everyone, it’s still all to play for.” Hoshi says. “The next game might be somewhat easier. It’s a game to test your couple chemistry; the peppero game!”

You sit there trying to discern what that actually constitutes. 

“What is the peppero game?” Nicholas whispers to you, just as confused. There seems to be an excited buzz around you though because apparently people know what that is or think they might do better at it than the other one. 

“Don’t look at me, I’m just a corporate lawyer.” you whisper back. You never thought that some random game may become your greatest intellectual obstacle. 

It’s when Boo calls up the first group and explains the rules that it sinks in. You watch as each couple takes a peppro stick snack and holds it between their lips, starting to munch on it from both sides, slowly making their way to meet in the middle. The objective is to have the smallest length of peppero stick remaining at the end.  

“So that’s the peppero game.” Nicholas says, dumbfounded. 

“You shouldn’t have asked dumb questions.” you scold him quietly. 

“I can’t help it sometimes, okay?” he hisses back.

Once the first group is finished and the MCs take measurements, they don’t disclose the results before calling the rest of the couples up. You and Nicholas reluctantly step up and face each other. Boo comes around and offers you the pack of peppero and you pick one out, holding it up. 

You have to get quite a bit closer to Nicholas and his hands comes up to rest on your shoulders to hold you in place as you bite on one end and offer him the other. Due to his struggles as a giant, Nicholas has to lean in a fair distance to make it work and you try your best to rise to your fullest height. 

“And begin!” Hoshi calls out, getting the game started. You take tiny bites of the snack, forced to stare at your husband up close because your eyes could go nowhere else. 

Your mouth focuses on not dropping the stick but your eyes focus on Nicholas; there’s the colour of his eyes, they way his eyelashes become more prominent when he blinks at you, and the way you can see your own reflection in his eyes as you get closer. 

Nicholas looks you straight in the eye, your noses just shy of touching and you accidentally bite down harder on the stick, severing it cleanly. 

“Ah,” you breathe, realising your mistake. “Sorry.” 

He lets go of you and takes the stick between his fingers, examining it. There was a lot left, at least 3cm or so. 

You wait for the rest of the couples to finish and hand in your pathetic peppero remnants to Hoshi, who immediately makes a face. 

“Oh guys,” he says then raises the mic. “well we know who definitely lost the game. Sorry, you two.” he smiles apologetically. 

“Now that everyone has had a go, we can reveal that there was actually a penalty for the losers.” Boo says, basking in the crowd’s laughter. 

“Oh lord, here we go.” you mutter. Before you can leave, Boo stops you.

“I’m afraid you’re staying, guys.” he says. “This game was supposed to check your couple chemistry and sadly you had a less than favourable result.”

“Since we don’t want to send you away feeling crappy about it, the penalty is simple and sweet; kiss and makeup for losing the game.” Hoshi tells you. 

You have a serious déjà vu back to your wedding where a crowd was watching the two of you kiss. It makes your stomach twist with eminent embarrassment. Not again, you think. 

“Oh come, don’t look so glum!” Hoshi continues. “Cheer up, let’s give them a hand everyone!” he encourages a round of applause but in your mind it gets worse. 

You’d avoided looking directly at Nicholas but you found him watching you expectantly and you turn to him, leaning in to initiate the kiss. The faster you did it, the better. He seems to catch on and leans to peck your lips half-way. Your mouths barely touch but you did it and smile in what you hope appears a natural way. 

You look out to the crowd, seeing they’re looking back at you awkwardly. Judgmentally even.  

“Now what was that?” Boo questions. “That might have been more pathetic than your peppero, you guys.” he taunts you gently. 

“Aren’t you newly weds?” Hoshi asks, surprisingly observant of the wedding rings on your fingers. “This is your honeymoon, you gotta have more passion than that!” he says excitedly, as if he was the one getting kissed. You glance at him, finding something in his eyes that may or may not suggest madness. You were also starting to think he might have a voyerism thing.  

“Hey, this is peer pressure!” Nicholas attempts, trying to get you out of the MCs grip. 

“It’s for your own good, bro, we’re trying to save your marriage.” Hoshi says to you, microphone not quite picking up all of that.  

“Just a quick kiss,” Boo pleads. “or we’ll feel like we failed you.” 

You can’t help but laugh at his logic. It’s clear that they’re just trying to have fun so you give in, stepping up to Nicholas again, who gives you a reassuring nod. 

You lean in again, eyes closing, willing yourself to tune everything out. One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek, holding you steady as your lips mold over his. You kiss your husband for the nth time; you were losing count but you were well aware that it was a finite number that you could count on your fingers. 

Ignoring everyone seems to help because you relax into the kiss and pull yourself closer to him intuitively, imagining you were back in that tunnel where you’d tried kissing the first time. It was hard to deny it, but Nicholas was a good kisser, whether he had been before you met or it was just that you’d practised together, and this kiss was no exception. 

It was good. 

Dizzyingly good. 

You pull away gently, feeling that you needed air, your heart beating faster than usual. The two of you look at each, unsure when you should really pull away. There’s a momentary silence and then a loud round of applause and you figure that’s a good cue to really separate and hurry back to your seats. 

“Wow, now that’s what you call a kiss!” Hoshi hollered, smiling widely. “Thank you for being good sports, and good luck on the next round.”

You wanted to call it irony. 

That’s what the strangest moments in life contained. You’d been pushed into an arranged marriage with a man you didn’t love, yet you had grown closer despite your circumstance, to the point where physical acts of affection were exchanged between you in public and you weren’t ready to die on the spot. 

So you did call it irony; the fact that you’d been so ready to resent Nicholas from day one but had become friends with him instead. Did friends kiss like that, you wondered. Married ones did, you supposed. 

There was a part of you that wished you didn’t feel the way you just did: as if you wanted to kiss him again. It was bothering you a little, a tiny voice in the back of your head, telling you that no matter what face you tried to pull and pretend to be angry that you’d had to kiss him, you were deep down glad you’d gotten to kiss him again. 

It felt like you were starting to develop a bad habit; the way one piece of chocolate sometimes becomes another, or one episode becomes three, and five more minutes of sleep becomes an hour. You made a note to avoid kissing him for a while, in case you started to spiral. 

It wasn’t a crime to want to kiss your husband but in your case, it could become dangerous.

For now, you told yourself it was probably just liking the physical intimacy that you’d been missing in your life and nothing more. Purely one of those pyramid needs things you’d read about.  

You can’t dwell on it too long because Boo announces the final game.

“We’ve tested your communication and your chemistry, now it’s time to test how well you know each other in a couple quiz!” 

“That’s right, this is simply a game of knowledge about your other half, shouldn’t be difficult, right everyone?” Hoshi chimes in. 

The thought occurs to you that you might be slightly disadvantaged this round since you’d met not that long ago but also weren’t a ‘real’ couple so to speak, but then you remembered the few basic notes you’d swapped between yourselves and change your mind - you might be better equipped than the other couples. 

Boo and Hoshi get each couple to write down five questions and their answers on a different piece of paper and invite each couple to do the quiz in front of everyone for fair judgment. 

You don’t need to tell Nicholas what kind of questions to write down because it was obvious - the stuff from the memos you’d shared. Was it cheating? You wouldn’t think so; technically nothing could have ever stopped other couples from doing the same thing as you. Besides, you were certain other people aimed for questions they were certain their partner would know. 

It was so obvious, it was practically an unspoken rule of the game. 

As expected, most couples do very well, only missing one or two answers, or if there was more, probably because they knew each other way too well and had a wider margin for mistakes and overthinking. 

You sat around waiting for your turn, but you ended up going last out of the whole group. You and Nicholas took to the floor, picking up the A4 whiteboards supplied by the MCs and getting ready to answer the questions. 

You did Nicholas’ questions first.

What was his favourite meal? You could have answered that just from living with him for a few weeks but you knew the official answer. 

If he could eat one fruit for the rest of his life, what would it be? It was so easy, you rolled your eyes as you wrote it down.

What style of dancing had he practiced during high school? Your pen started moving before Boo even finished asking the question.

What was the name and brand of his favourite cologne? This one annoyed you slightly because it wasn’t something you’d explicitly talked about but you had noticed in your shared bathroom at home. 

And finally, what was his birthday and star sign? You gave them the sun, moon, and ascendant just to be sure, memories from your memos. 

You finessed the challenge, giving the audience in front of you a smug finger gun and wink because of them had really struggled with answering their spouse’s questions. While you’re up there, you spot the Lees giving you a subtle thumbs up and you smile at them, genuinely for once. You’d almost forgotten they were there and also spying on you for your mother. 

You hoped they would relay everything they saw today and get her off your back. 

It was Nicholas’ turn to answer your questions and you’d really tried to keep them as simple as possible, asking things like your own star sign, hometown, favourite school subject back in the day, favourite colour (were you in kindergarten? today you might as well be), and your coffee order, which was one of the first memos you’d given Nicholas. 

He aces it just like you did, and you’re a little proud of him for remembering even this much about you. 

“Well, you saw it here first folks, we have another perfect team.” Hoshi announces. “We’re going to ask our other top scorers, Hanbin and Hao to get up here for a tie-breaker.”

Uh-oh. You started to panic at the prospect of more questions and especially because they would be of the unseen variety. 

“You did so well that we’re going to need to get some bonus questions in there, stuff that will make you think on your feet.” Boo informs the four of you. You’ll go first since you’re already sitting there. “We’ll do three questions each.”

This time you’d both write an answer down on the whiteboards instead of the hosts fact checking on the piece of paper. 

It was in that moment, that you accepted you’d already lost. There was no way you’d beat anyone when you’d known each other for like two months.  

“Nicholas, what is YN’s favourite time of day?” Boo asks. You think carefully about what Nicholas might say and try to write an answer down to match it. 

You think simply and thank whoever that it was an easy question. 

You both hold up your answer and check. A wave of relief washes over you.

Nicholas had written 4am on his board, matching yours. It was an obvious one since you’d stayed up that late just this morning. 

Nicholas manages to get another question right (it was about your job title, which almost makes you laugh because could they have picked better questions for you?) but misses the third one because it was simply impossible for him to know. 

“We’re going to get a little spicy now for the final one, if that’s okay.” Hoshi begins. “Where on her body, does your wife like being kissed?”

“Please do keep the answers moderately PG.” Boo pleads you before you write. Your heart is racing because you know this will be wrong.

You write ‘cheek’, hoping it’s generic enough to get you the point, but Nicholas writes ‘neck’ and you throw him a glare. He shrugs innocently. 

“Oh no, what a shame!” Hoshi exclaims. “Very close to perfection, but not quite. Now, let’s see if YN can match or better your score.” 

You’re asked about Nicholas’ shoe size and you think hard, trying to remember if you’d ever seen an actual number. By some miracle, you guess the correct number after taking a little longer to answer the question.

“Right, so far so good.” Boo says, leading up to the next question. “What is Nicholas’ love language?” 

You freeze. 

Not good, very not good. 

You wracked your brain, trying to figure it out on the spot. In the end you write ‘physical affection’ because of the way he never leaves you untouched in bed and hope for the best. Nicholas turns his board around and you sigh at the ‘acts of service’ scribbled there. 

“Oh disaster strikes again!” Hoshi squeaks. “YN, you have one more question before we hand it over to your competitors.” 

“We’re going for another spicy question, as is customary.” Boo continues. All you hear is ‘game over’ in your head, flashing in big red letters. “If given the chance, what is the freakiest public location Nicholas would want you to partake in the act of coitus?”

You felt like throwing yourself down a flight of stairs. 

Translation - where does he want to fuck?

Low key it was a super personal question but also awkward since you were in a group setting, even if you were all adults here. 

You had no idea, so you just wrote down the first thing that popped into your head: ‘balcony’.

“And now, the big reveal…” Hoshi trails off dramatically. You’re so over this and just want to go back to the comfort of your hotel room and hide from the world until you left the island. 

You turn the boards and your suspicions are confirmed. You lost.

Nicholas had written ‘conference room’. 

For a moment, you think about why he wrote that and then it sends you spiralling; you could have easily answered that question with just an ounce of thought. The war room, of course. Why didn’t you think of that? 

“Ohhh, so close yet so far!” Hoshi says. “I’m sorry guys, but that’s three out of six for you, if Hanbin and Hao can get four or more, they win. Thank you for playing, good job!”

You thank the MCs and sit down, watching while Hanbin and Hao got question after question right. They won the round so easily, that it was laughable. 

“Welp, at least we tried.” Nicholas nudges your arm.

“Sorry I messed up.” you say.

“It’s fine, it’s not like we knew any of the answers.” he says simply, absolving you of blame. 

In the end, Hanbin and Hao are the overall winners because they had managed a point in the scream in silence game, a good score in the peppero game and a complete sweep in the quiz. Their prize is pretty fun too - a free twenty-four hours renting a yacht around the island.

“Congratulations! Now, a speech from our winners, please guys, say a few words.” Boo asks. 

Hao seems too stunned to speak so Hanbin takes over, a big smile on his face. 

“Woah, well we didn’t expect to do so well. We only got married in April and we’ve been too busy working to get a vacation, so it’s really amazing to get such a nice surprise. Thank you for playing everyone and thanks to our wonderful MCs!” he wraps up nicely and you applaud, smiling as they both sat down. 

“Lovely!” Boo says when the clapping dies down. “Right, everyone, just before we go, we do have one more thing to announce. We have a runner’s up prize too; a romantic dinner and stargazing experience for two.” 

“Sounds like a treat, right?” Hoshi chimes in. “We can now reveal that our runner up couple is…YN and Nicholas!” 

You hear your names being called and you find yourself confused.

You had scored in the first game, completely failed the second, but managed to get runner up in the third, so it did in fact add up, but it still felt strange. 

“Congrats, you two. See us afterwards so we can fill you in.” Boo instructs. “Well, everyone. Thank you for a delightful afternoon. We hope you enjoyed yourselves as much as we always do. We’ll wish you a pleasant evening and another congratulations to all our winners! This has been Boo…”

“And Hoshi! See you later, folks!” they finish in unison. You had to hand it to them, they’d been very fun hosts and you had had a good time despite thinking you’d be stuck making awkward small talk with the Lees all afternoon. (You were almost sure that being separated from them had been the stroke of luck that had saved your day.) 

“I can’t believe we actually won something. What a weird day.” Nicholas muses as the crowd slowly disperses. 

“There are stranger things in life, are there not?” you reply, tempting him into a philosophical discussion. 

“Nope, no more thinking. We got a dinner to claim.” he smiles.

*  

In some ways it was fitting that your last night on the island would be so special. 

The dinner you’d won was really amazing and you enjoyed the food thoroughly on the balcony of the largest restaurant in the resort. 

You could see the stars between the clouds when they became clearer as the night grew darker. It was worth any momentary embarrassment you’d felt yesterday while competing in the couple contest.

It was getting late by the time you finished your meal so you decided to go and get some sleep since you’d be waking up early tomorrow for your flight home. 

By the time you left the restaurant, a dark cover of dense clouds had converged in the sky and hid the stars from you as you slowly strolled back to the hotel. 

“Aren’t you glad we came?” Nicholas asks suddenly. He’s moving with some energy despite having mirrored the way you stuffed yourself with food. You, on the other hand, were half a step behind, feeling the weight of your decisions, you had no intention of eating again for at least another day. 

You thought for a moment, assessing the collection of good times you’d accumulated over the past week and a bit, then considered for a moment how the hell you were going to deal with getting back to work. Somehow, all the fun you had outweighed your incoming stress. 

“Yeah, I’m glad we came.” you admit. Nicholas is smiling when he glances at you, a little proud he convinced you probably. 

You seem to have spoken too soon because in the next split second you feel a series of rain drops falling on your face and then a rapid succession which gets starts to drench you before you can even react. 

“Shit, you really know how to jinx things, don’t you?” Nicholas comments, squinting as the rain gets harder, but you see him smiling. You’re in the middle of a narrow street and nowhere to take cover.

“You started it!” you reply, infected by his smile. You raise a hand to shelter your eyes from the rain as you look around. There was no one else out.  

“Come on!” he grabs your hand and starts running, dragging you behind him. Your legs start moving against your will and you follow him, hoping you’re headed in the right direction since it’s difficult to see in the rain.

The heavens open up torrential rain on the two of you but as you run in between the rain drops, your hand secured in Nicholas’, you can’t help but laugh when he does. 

You felt so liberated for a moment.

You didn’t think about work, or the fact that the only reason you were here was because your parents had decided to derail your life, you just ran, as carefree as a kid, splashing through puddles, ruining your sundress and sneakers. 

You thought about how you’d only ever seen this happen in movies; how it was some big romantic moment where the leads run and laugh and look all in love as they get drenched, but the reality was that it was exhausting, even if still a little fun, as you tried your best not to lose Nicholas in the curtain-like rain. 

It only takes a minute to get to the hotel and you burst through the doors, startling the nightshift staff at the desk and you chuckle at their stunned then relieved faces.

You’re both panting, you more than Nicholas since clearly only one of you worked out, and you will your lungs not to explode as you catch your breath. 

Nicholas turns to you, face lit up despite the end to your night. “You look like you just swam here.” he says, bringing a hand to your forehead to move the wet strands away. You pause for a moment, surprised by how tenderly he brushes his finger tips against your skin, pushing the hair away. 

“Yeah, well, you look like a wet dog.” you retort sassily despite being short of air. It was true that you both did, drenched from head to toe and to the bone. 

“Okay, I’ll acknowledge it, let’s go shower before we catch a cold.” 

You get back to your room, feeling a little guilty that you’d been dripping all over the hotel’s plush carpets, but you had no choice. 

“You can go first.” Nicholas says, already unbuttoning his soaked through shirt.

“What about you though?” you ask, taking off your shoes. “You should dry off at least, you might get cold.”

“I’ll be fine, just go.” he insists. You’re about to let it go but he sneezes, trying to cover it up with clearing his throat.

“Fine, my ass.” you sigh. “Okay, this is a simple problem so there must be a simple solution.” you say and think for a moment.

You have an idea when you spot the wolf sleeping mask peeking out of Nicholas’ toiletries baggie.

“How about this:” you start. “you take a bath and wear the mask while I take a shower? That way we both get warmed up.” 

“You’re so determined to make me return to that bath, aren’t you?” Nicholas shakes his head but agrees. “Alright, I know my place by now, Mrs Wang.” he finishes by throwing off his shirt, then trudges to the bathroom, swiping the mask in passing. 

You wait for a minute, hearing the water running and the sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor. 

“Okay, you can come in now.” Nicholas calls out a moment later. 

You creak the door open and close it behind you, eyes sweeping over the scene to make sure he was wearing the mask. Nicholas was sitting in the bath obediently, his broad back to you but you could see the mask was over his eyes. 

Satisfied, your hands got busy removing your dress and underwear quickly, leaving them to hang and dry. You padded across the bathroom and hopped in the shower, starting the water.

Neither of you says anything, a less awkward silence than you thought hanging between you but you barely notice because you rush yourself to finish as quickly as possible. You stop the water and open the cabin door, stepping out so you can reach a towel off the shelf. 

You glance in Nicholas’ direction in paranoia and freeze when you notice the mask is sitting on the ledge of the bath. In the process, you drop the towel, which in turn makes a moisturiser fall on the floor with a thud and the noise makes Nicholas turn around.

You lock eyes, his widening in panic.

“Ah!” you both scream when you realise what just happened, Nicholas throwing himself to face forward and you scrambling to throw the towel around yourself. 

“What are you doing!” you huff, incredibly flustered as you clutch the towel to your body. 

“What are you doing!” he demands, just as freaked out.         

“Why aren’t you wearing the mask?” you ask, picking up the fallen moisturiser. Damn your self-care diligence.

“I was washing my hair, I had to take it off.” he explains, sitting rigidly with his back to you. 

“Oh,” you get it now. “fine. Nevermind.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to turn.” he says, clearly a bit embarrassed. 

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” you shrug, forgetting he can’t see you. 

“Nice tattoo, by the way.” you hear the smirk in his voice and you close your eyes. How did he manage to see that of all things in a split second? 

“You better forget what you saw, or else.” you warn him. 

“I’ll try but no guarantees.” he replies. That was good enough for now. 

“Okay. I’m going now.” you open the door. “I hope you prune up like a raisin.” you say over your shoulder and shut the door.  

You wanted to shrivel up too; become but a speck of dust, not because of embarrassment necessarily, but more like because you didn’t like what you were thinking about. There was a fraction of a second when Nicholas’ eyes widened, that you felt like you wanted him to keep looking. 

You shudder at your own deprivation, blaming your busy schedule for not going out and hooking up with more people. Now you were a mess at the slightest incident. 

You just hoped at least Nicholas would forget…

~

*apartment 520 cuz it sounds like ‘i love you’ in chinese and i couldn’t miss an op. also ‘ma cherie’ = my dear/darling and ‘mon ange’ = my angel literally in french

ALMOST FORGOT TO ADD THIS!!!! for all your meme needs <3

A/N: thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated <3 I gotta say, i felt just a little unhinged writing some of this, Nicho's too much y'all, i'm not normal about this man. i hope this chapter gave you whiplash cuz same <3

*copyright 2021- © momobani 

momobani masterlist

[daemour]

Answer (1/2)

Pairing: ghost!Seonghwa x Reader ft. future San

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Ghost AU, Mystery, Supernatural elements, vaguely horror

Warnings: Religious content, toxic possessiveness, slight yandere, mentions of death, death

Word count (part specific): 1228

Summary: For as long as Seonghwa had been roaming the world as a ghost, he hadn’t remembered much of his life when he was... well... living. But one thing he does remember is you. His childhood friend whom he hadn’t seen since he moved in primary school. So naturally, he seeks you out.

To his surprise, you can see him. He immediately decides to hold onto you for as long as he can. After all, you’re the only tie he has to the living world. He doesn’t want anything to get in the way of what could be a normal life. 

Not even your potential partners.

im sorry this took so long T-T it's for @flurrys-creativity's 666 Milestone Collab but I totally lost all motivation and didn't even know how to finish this. The second part comes out next week (6/23)!

Part 1 - Part 2

-

“So….you’re like…dead?” You look so confused and Seonghwa honestly finds it adorable.

“(Y/N), dear, when you first saw me I was floating a foot in the air. I am currently transparent. What more could you ask?” You roll your eyes and attempt to smack Seonghwa, but again, he is a ghost and your hand just passes through him. “See, even more evidence!” He can’t help but tease you. The look on your face is worth it.

“You are so not funny, Seonghwa,” you hiss, frowning at him. “I haven’t seen you since we were in primary, and now you’re just dead?”

“Sorry, sorry,” there’s still a laugh in Seonghwa’s voice, but he stops teasing you. “I died, yes. I don’t really remember how, but all I knew were fragmented memories…and your face was in most of them. So I decided to find you, and lo and behold! You can see me.”

Your eyebrows furrow and for a moment Seonghwa worries that he might make you cry. “That’s so sad. I’m sorry,” you frown at Seonghwa and he waves his hand as if trying to brush away your pity.

“Don’t worry about it. I get to see you again anyways, so it’s not too bad,” he jokes to lighten the atmosphere. “How is it, being an adult? You’re getting so old.”

His attempt works for the most part, although you’ve still got sadness in your eyes. “Shut up, you’re only a couple years older than me.” You attempt to shove him again, and this time Seonghwa lets himself materialise just a bit more so that you can make contact, and he falls onto his side with a giggle.

“That wasn’t very nice, (Y/N)! I am just trying to inquire about your life.” Seonghwa pouts and you roll your eyes at the sight.

“Life is good, I guess. My parents don’t live here anymore, but they let me stay since they paid off the mortgage and it’s closer to my university. I just pay the utilities myself,” you hum. “What else, what else. I’m going to community college to get my gen-eds done…and I think that’s about all.”

“Oh, where are your parents now?” Seonghwa asks. “They were always so nice to me. At least no one will think you’re crazy for talking to ghost me.” He nudges you a little and you slap his elbow away.

“Oh, shut up, I probably am a little crazy if I can see you,” you say lightheartedly, and Seonghwa can’t lie—those words stung. “But they moved in with my maternal grand-aunt. She’s been having health issues. And my mom loves it there. She practically grew up there so it’s a second home to her.”

You trail off as your phone rings, and you smile at the sight of the caller id. “Oh, I have to take this call, sorry, Hwa. It’s my partner for this project I’m doing.”

And just like that, you were out of your room and down the hall. Seonghwa watches you leave with a soft smile on his face. He missed you. And now he gets to see you again and be with you forever.

-

“How was school today?” When you get home from college, Seonghwa is lying on your couch. Or rather, floating above your couch because maintaining a physical form for that long is tiring. He’s the epitome of relaxed, although a little bored since he can’t leave the house for too long without you since he’s tied his spirit down.

“It was good,” you reply, setting your bookbag on the coffee table to take off your shoes. “A little boring today since all I had were an English class and a long Chem lab. How was watching YouTube?”

“Exhilarating,” Seonghwa teases, finally straightening up to float towards you and greeting you with a hug. “Snuck a little bit of Netflix in there too.”

You hum, moving into the kitchen with Seonghwa following close behind. “Sounds like a fun day. Sorry that you have to be inside a lot though…I’d take you to class but I might get distracted and look like a fool talking to you.”

Seonghwa laughs shortly, hands moving to wrap around your stomach as he peeks over your shoulder at the bowl of cold pudding you’re eating. “Is that all you’re going to eat?” is all he says in response.

“Mmh, yeah. I just came back to grab a snack but then I’ll be going to the library and will grab lunch somewhere.” You pause, turning your head to take a glance at the ghost leaning on your shoulder. “You can come along this time if you’d like? I can get a study room at the library and so we can chat or you could read.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widen. He can feel his heart lurch like it's been stabbed—it’s only now he realises how different his routine has become now that he’s died. He stays at home 90 percent of the time so he always forgets how much you have to accommodate for him to accompany you.

“I’d like to,” he mumbles out, and as if you can tell how he’s feeling, you lean into his touch as a slight comfort.

“Yeah! You’ll have to tell me all about the YouTube and the Netflix,” you joke, a smile on your lips that Seonghwa can see out of the corner of his eye. God, he’s glad he finally found you.

-

“Where were you?” Seonghwa asks when you come back as the sun is setting, a far cry from when you usually arrive at two in the afternoon. “I got worried.”

"Oh no, I'm so sorry Hwa!" You exclaim after a quick glance at your watch. "I totally forgot that there's no way to contact you and lost track of time. I had gotten a partner project assigned to me so we went to the library to start to plan it out. I'm sorry."

Seonghwa purses his lips but relaxes. "That's okay. I just thought you got kidnapped or hurt or something. It seems like much longer when you're just here by yourself."

You hum in understanding, offering him a small smile. "Yeah, I get that. How about we order dinner since I worried you? It'll be a treat. And we gotta figure something out about the communication."

Seonghwa sighs affectionately. "That's more like a treat for you since I technically don't need to eat, but hey, I can still taste it so I'll take it."

You roll your eyes, poking him in the side. "Don't think I didn't notice you stealing all of my pudding, Seonghwa. Don't try to play cool with me."

Seonghwa laughs, batting your hand away. "Hey, you eat too many of those anyway. I'm actually doing you a favour by keeping you from getting sick.”

You scoff. "I take great offense to that—I haven't gotten sick yet."

"Just wait." Seonghwa rolls his eyes. "And I'll laugh when that happens."

Instead of being a mature adult who will accept when you're wrong, you just start ignoring him, looking through the menus you have pinned up on a billboard. "What do you want to eat?"

"Dude, nice way to dodge that. And I really could care less. Pizza?"

"Only if we can get stuffed crust," you offer and Seonghwa laughs.

"As if I would eat it any other way."

[topwan-obikin]

Hello dear obikins, and welcome to our eleventh day of submissions!

We have a nice little batch of reveals for you on our ao3 collection today plus an update, so feast on these wonderful creations. Don’t forget to leave kudos and comments to show the authors your appreciation!

This is the last batch of reveals for our first submission period!! For anyone who didn't manage to join this round you can always post your submission on our second deadline, details pinned in our blog. Author reveals will between the 21 and the 22 of December, so look out!

twitter thread here.

keep a stern hand by Anonymous

“Captain Kenobi,” Prince Anakin breathed, his eyes still wide and blown black in the candlelight. A memory came to him of the first time he’d caught the prince in the act. Anakin had only been sixteen years old at the time, but the stable boy whose hand was moving in the front of his trousers was equally as youthful, and it was that tiny detail that kept Obi-Wan from promptly putting his sword through his gut. He’d said the same thing back then, and his title upon the prince’s lips had sounded like an apology; as time passed, it morphed the syllables into an expression of insolence. Now, it sounded like a plea. * * * Or: Obi-Wan is a little too good at being the head of the crown prince's guard.

and the sun will shine upon us again by Anonymous

Anakin reveals to Obi-Wan that he's married. Obi-Wan doesn't take it well and decides to teach him a lesson. And if the lesson includes multiple orgasms that is just to drive it better into Anakin's brain.

and we have an update!

Chapter 6 of love's a hand-me-down brew is up!

Obi-Wan has a steady job teaching at the university, a low-rate mortgage on comfortably sized condo in a nicer part of the city, and a respectable social circle. He has no criminal record, no sordid past he’s hiding, he’s in relatively good health, and his friends tell him he would make for an excellent romantic partner. But Obi-Wan’s not looking for love. That’s far too big a commitment. If love is to find him, it will have to hunt him down and kidnap him first. He usually satisfies himself with pretty young things he meets at bars, but unlike his usual taste in lovers, the doe-eyed graduate student that Obi-Wan keeps finding in the wrong library doesn’t seem to notice his flirting. He might have to spell out his intentions if he wants something more. Though Anakin is far from the only oblivious one in their library.

For previous submissions click here or go directly to our ao3 collection for the whole eleven days worth of amazing submissions!

[vanosslirious]

BBS Dialogue Prompts #322

ʙʙꜱ ᴅɪᴀʟᴏɢᴜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛꜱ & ꜱᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀꜱ: [ 13 ]

SMII7Y

Goddamn, how am I supposed to clean that?

True, I can just rappel down.

It doesn’t even set up on these walls.

I feel so professional right now.

Bro, stop, I’m on a scaffold, it’s dangerous.

Dude, I don't have my rope.

Wow, it’s like a different world in here.

The outside is still disgusting, I’m going to be 100% with you.

Let me hear it, gimme it.

It’s all downhill...

Might be awhile until I have another one.

I didn’t think it was that close.

I’m sorry, this normally doesn’t happen.

I was literally about to say that.

Put it on the roof!

Yes you can!

Bro, let’s look at the sights together.

Bro, we were supposed to leave it up there, how did you grab that?

You know what, you bring up a good point.

Line it up but right next to me.

VANOSSGAMING

You tip zero?

Is that the delivery man’s fault?

Yeah, let’s do this.

Wow, it takes two hits.

Well, now you can show us the way.

I feel like I’m being pranked.

Is it made out of cheese?

Finally one that doesn't work so well.

Ah, fucking get me an audition.

I shot you point blank.

GRIZZY

Wait, wait, is there another one?

I have five keys.

This is me and you, old lady.

What did I miss, I literally closed my eyes for a second.

I tried to take her down!

I'm gonna murder this old hag.

Somebody is flying out that window.

You have IQ?

I don't know if that's how it works.

Bro, I can't even explain that, I'm just dogshit.

TERRORISER

I'm going back in there, aren't I, for fuck sake.

Time to die, I guess.

He's walking through walls now, sick.

I know he's behind me, fuck this…

Alright, bitch, buy me some candles.

Shut up, stop talking.

How did I win?

How come you didn't message me on my birthday with the calendar?

Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya.

Jeez, you are sick.

ELILIKESRICE

Vampires holding guns in general is funny.

I thought you can read my mind.

I drink blood 'cuz it reminds me of kool-aid.

God, just put on a shirt, please!

I'm only 5'10.

He wronged us too many times.

They hit the pentagon.

I sacrificed myself.

Help, I'm gonna die, you fucks.

That's it, I've had enough.

BASICALLYIDOWRK

I'm getting hit by everything, bro.

I'm not paying my mortgage until we win.

You guys got about fifteen more minutes for my prescribed Adderall kicks in, and all the wind is fucking flowing in.

Press the fucking button, you dipshits!

Cut him off, it's the last guy, cut him off.

You got this, I believe.

We already qual'd, you dumb ice-cream fuck.

You can, but it's just going to be hard.

I don't know what that means.

I heard a door open.

JERICHO

Get off of the keys!

How do I get out of here?

Now, cut me in on the deal, exactly as you promised.

Wow, that is really difficult.

I'm just gonna go ahead and do this real quick.

Can you carry my body back to the van?

We have forty-two seconds left.

Don't be a hero.

I don't know how to activate it.

What is this bag here?

NOGLA

No, I got it covered.

Hold on, I gotta kill this guy.

That's my title.

Honestly, I zoned out completely.

Watch how bad this guy is.

No one has paid a penny yet.

If it was ten thousand, it would’ve selled.

You guys do whatever the fuck you want but leave me alone.

Stop what you're doing!

Okay, I figured it out, it’s this way.

BLARG

I'm on top of this man, and he's not dying.

I might have gotten executed in the back of the head.

That was violent.

Wait, just stand still.

This is such a-brother-and-sister-and-guy-we-bought-drugs-from-moment!

Yay, reviving the better player.

We're going for a ride!

How do I not die?

I think the door hit the dog in the head, because there's blood everywhere. 

Oh, I fell over and died.

WILDCAT

What did you get, did you get something good?

He's not near the bikes, fuck off!

Dude, he was just with us.

Only the killers can hear dead people.

I think you and I have the best read on our friends, you know, that's why I want to work together.

That fucking guy flopped the fuck over.

He's trying to act all scared around me.

I knew you were a bad boy.

What do you need to help him do?

Why do you ask a question and run away?

BIGPUFFER

He never gonna find me.

I can't kill anyone.

I'm out of ammo.

I lost so many points!

You can teleport through the sewer system? 

Fuck you, how about that, huh, you little idiot!

Really, you're gonna do me like that?

I literally didn't notice you.

Wait, what did I just see for a second there?

Wait a minute, I'm getting eaten!

H2ODELIRIOUS

I don’t think he can hit me.

Maybe he can’t see me.

I’m a spectral anomaly.

Where the hell did you go?

It’s not personal, it’s just you.

There’s a rabbit taking a bath.

This is my nightmare!

Alright, I should be scared.

That’s not what I meant!

I’m in the garage, I just heard her.

FL0M

Are you just blowing up vaults, dude?

Alright, hacker.

I can't believe they got beyblades in this game, this is incredible.

Oh my God, you can kill them.

Back the fuck up!

This is the heist, motherfuckers.

Hey, knock that shit out.

Make sure they're fucking dead.

Alright, I might've shot him.

Wait, you got the submarine, what the fuck!

[cleolinda]

Varney the Vampire: Chapter 6

Chapter 5: Please, be responsible with your vampires.

Chapter 6: Originally posted on Livejournal on December 14, 2010. The original one was a bit short, so this has been expanded.

Previously on:

"Be of better cheer, Henry -- be of better cheer," said Marchdale; "there is one circumstance which we ought to consider, it is that, from all we have seen, there seems to be some things which would favour an opinion, Henry, that your ancestor, whose portrait hangs in the chamber which was occupied by Flora, is a vampyre."

Also:

Henry related to George what had taken place outside the house, and the two brothers held a long and interesting conversation for some hours upon that subject, as well as upon others of great importance to their welfare. It was not until the sun's early rays came glaring in at the casement that they both rose, and thought of awakening Flora, who had now slept soundly for so many hours.

I am stunned that this fascinating conversation was not given three chapters of its own. The printer must have put his foot down and said, "I can pay you by the line, not the ton."

CHAPTER VI.

A GLANCE AT THE BANNERWORTH FAMILY. -- THE PROBABLE CONSEQUENCES OF THE MYSTERIOUS APPARITION'S APPEARANCE.

Rymer trusts that it would not be unideal to acquaint us further with the Beaumont Bannerworth family. Short version: previous heads of the Bannerworth family were a bunch of hell-raisin' runnagate gamblers, and thus noble Henry and his family are now quietly penniless. We are told that his father, Marmaduke Bannerworth, Oh Why Not the Second, was "found lying dead" (of what: not specified. sus? absolutely) in the garden, with only an unfinished message written in pencil:

"The money is -- -- " And then there was a long scrawl of the pencil, which seemed to have been occasioned by his sudden decease.

Of course there was. To ramp up the foreshadowing that James Malcolm Rymer might never, ever follow up on, we're also told,

He had, but a few hours before he was found lying dead, made the following singular speech to Henry, -- "Do not regret, Henry, that the old house which has been in our family so long is about to be parted with. Be assured that, if it is but for the first time in my life, I have good and substantial reasons now for what I am about to do. We shall be able to go to some other country, and there live like princes of the land." Where the means were to come from to live like a prince, unless Mr. Bannerworth had some of the German princes in his eye, no one knew but himself, and his sudden death buried with him that most important secret.

Henry, of course, never gets to find out wtf this means. Not entirely sure what the drive-by snark at German princes is about, either. (At this point, the German Confederation was still a few short years away from the Revolutions of 1848. A Regent's Council was ruling Austria for Ferdinand I, who served as a de facto president of the Confederation; the whole thing was decentralized, "weak and ineffective," and so I'm guessing individual princes had a good bit of money and power? I have no idea what this has to do with Marmaduke II's plans.)

So the current Bannerworths, they are broke. And then, suddenly, Random J. Solicitor, Esq., from London writes them to say, "Look, I have this client. I can't tell you who it is, but he'll pay you a shitload of money for the Hall." The Bannerworths want to hold onto the ancestral hall, mortgages and debts and all. "No, seriously. Anything you want." Even the Bannerworths' own lawyer is like, SERIOUSLY, WHY WON'T YOU TAKE THE MONEY? Well, because it's their ancestral family home, and also… there's this guy who likes Flora, and they want to make sure he can drop in on them someday. Because, if they move, they have no way of letting him know.

Now, in 2010, I wrote rather dryly, "I don't know how we survived before Facebook, you guys." The subtext here was, I already hated Facebook and used it, like, twice in my whole life, mostly as a mobile game login. Obviously, this statement hits different in 2023; I'm not sure we'll survive anyway, but this is the gag I wrote 12-13 years ago, and I stand by it:

Flora Bannerworth thinks that Italy is beautiful this time of year

Flora Bannerworth is GOING OVER A CLIFF O NOES!!2!

Charles Holland is saving some random girl he's never met before from certain death-----

Henry Bannerworth likes this-----

George Bannerworth likes this-----

Mrs. Bannerworth likes this

Henry Bannerworth has invited Charles Holland to join The Quietly Penniless Bannerworth Family

And thus, 620 words later, we are introduced to Charles Holland, Artist by Profession, Traveling for Instruction and Amusement, Loved by Everyone (But Especially Flora). Literally, he saved her from a terrific stormy abyss, into which she nearly damseled into off a cliff, and surely would have perished thereunto. Charles Holland then had Somewhere Else to Be for two years—but when he gets done with Something, at Someplace with No Address, he will absolutely come back and look Flora up at Bannerworth Hall! So we definitely cannot move, y'all.

With one exception this was the state of affairs at the hall, and that exception relates to Mr. Marchdale.

Ah: Mrs. Bannerworth's childhood sweetheart, failed suitor, and "distant relative"—shoulda been her cousin, Marchdale, you would've had a far better chance. While we're here, I should tell you my theory about why so many heroines in nineteenth century literature end up marrying their cousins. (An unparalleled example: Louisa May Alcott's Eight Cousins and its sequel Rose in Bloom, in which the Campbell family waits breathlessly to see which of a HERD of male cousins young heiress Rose will marry. She chooses the nerd.) I think it's because cousins were allowed to interact like siblings—that is, like friends—whereas mere acquaintances were held apart from young women by a certain degree of convention and propriety. Courtship was often ridiculously formal, particularly as the century wore on. So, for a writer, it would be really appealing to have a male character in place that your heroine can even just be around, someone the reader can witness her having an emotional relationship with—not just a superficial introduction, then a perfunctory proposal. So it's far more narratively satisfying to go with "the cousin we've known for the entire book" instead of "cousin's random friend we saw three times." Even Charles Holland rapidly gets promoted to—well, we'll get to that.

Instead, Mrs. Bannerworth "had, as is generally the case among several admirers, chosen the very worst: that is, the man who had treated her with the most indifference and who paid her the least attention." Not to mention, a dissipated gambler. Good to see that, even back in the day, the Bad Boy Fallacy was already in effect.

So, after the Very Worst turned up dead in the garden, Marchdale renewed his attentions to his old flame and distant relative, the Widow Bannerworth:

It might have been some slight tenderness towards him which had never left her, or it might be the pleasure merely of seeing one whom she had known intimately in early life, but, be that as it may, she certainly gave him a kindly welcome; and he, after consenting to remain for some time as a visitor at the hall, won the esteem of the whole family by his frank demeanour and cultivated intellect.

Marchdale (we are told) is well-traveled, courteous, spins a good yarn on a dull 1840s night, and has "a small [financial] independence of his own," so he's actually better off than the family hosting him, and finds ways to support them. This is the Bannerworth household, all told, and they're making it work. Sometimes a family is a widow, her three adult children, her cousin-suitor, and his crowbar.

Such then may be considered by our readers as a brief outline of the state of affairs among the Bannerworths -- a state which was pregnant with changes, and which changes were now likely to be rapid and conclusive. How far the feelings of the family towards the ancient house of their race would be altered by the appearance at it of so fearful a visitor as a vampyre, we will not stop to inquire, inasmuch as such feelings will develop themselves as we proceed.

Well—wait. What? "Altered by the appearance at it of"? What the hell is this? God, it's like the literary equivalent of a speed bump. Anyway: all the servants promptly quit. Sorry—the feelings of the domestics inasmuch as the domestics could afford to have feelings were inevitably altered towards the desirability of the wages paid thereunto by the appearance of a fucking vampire. Ugh. Nobody wants to work these days.

(Chapter 7 will go up Friday, March 31.)

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

How is brand Harry & Meghan faring in the US? Not good | Arwa Mahdawi | The Guardian

Is America finally getting bored of Harry and Meghan? It’s starting to look that way. Only a few months ago the pair were media darlings in the US; now they have become a bit of a joke. The animated sitcom South Park gave the first big blow to their stateside brand a couple of weeks ago with an episode featuring a couple bearing an uncanny similarity to the Sussexes. In the episode, titled The Worldwide Privacy Tour, the pair travel the globe with placards saying: “Stop looking at us!” and chanting: “We want privacy!” Harry’s memoir, Spare, is parodied as “Waaaagh”. The couple also get advice from a PR expert who tells them to portray themselves as victims. Not terribly flattering stuff.

Now the comedian Chris Rock has taken aim at the couple in his new Netflix special, Selective Outrage. He dismissed Meghan’s claims about racism in the royal family, saying: “Some of that shit she went through was not racism”, but “in-law” behaviour. He also joked about how it was odd Meghan seemed surprised by the fact the royal family might harbour archaic views. “It’s the royal family! They’re the original racists. They invented colonialism,” Rock said.

Polls also reflect a shift in US-based attitudes towards the pair: their approval ratings have plummeted since the South Park episode. According to polling commissioned for Newsweek, Harry’s popularity has dropped 48 points since December and Meghan’s is down 40. Now Prince Andrew, the guy who palled around with a convicted sex offender, has higher US approval ratings than the Sussexes. Though, to be fair, that seems to be because fewer people in the US know about Andrew’s tawdry dealings than they do in the UK. Because Andrew isn’t parading himself on the US media 24/7 like Harry and Meghan, it’s easier for someone stateside to forget who he is. If only we all had that luxury.

How are Harry and Meghan responding to this seeming shift in attitudes? Well, let’s just say they haven’t exactly put out a statement saying they think Rock and South Park are hilarious and they love nothing more than laughing at themselves, ha ha ha. On the contrary, there were rumours that they were so upset by the South Park episode that they were considering legal action. While they’re certainly fans of calling their lawyers, a representative for the couple told the Guardian that reports the pair might sue were “baseless” and “boring”.

I’ll tell you what’s really boring: the neverending pity-me-please performance the two are foisting upon us. As a staunch anti-royalist I was sympathetic to the couple to begin with – my enemy’s enemy is my friend and all that – but the constant oversharing has jumped the shark. Particularly since it becomes more obvious by the day that their grievances are less to do with systemic inequality and more to do with feeling they didn’t get a big enough slice of the born-with-privilege pie. I mean, come on, you can’t go around complaining about how backwards the royals are while insisting that we plebs refer to you as Duke and Duchess. You want some credibility? 

Give up your stupid titles.

Another unsolicited piece of advice for Duke and Duchess: read the socioeconomic room! You may have noticed that “eat the rich” storylines are a big theme on TV at the moment. From the latest season of Netflix’s You to the White Lotus to Succession, there are more rich-people-are-awful-sociopaths storylines on the telly than you can shake a silver spoon at. This isn’t a weird coincidence. It’s been noted that storylines about rich people tend to vary depending on the economic climate: in good times onscreen obscene wealth can be enjoyable escapism; in bad times it’s more of a hate-watch. And, I don’t need to tell you, the world is currently going through “you need to take out a second mortgage to buy eggs” sort of times.

Finally, Harry: I know you weren’t exactly the most committed student, but maybe pick up a history book. The US has something of a reputation for losing patience with British aristocrats.

Arwa Mahdawi is a Guardian columnist

​

[theworldsafuckingslaughterhouse]

Here is a rant I wrote

The other day I found this angry rant on my laptop I must have written a few years ago, so here it is. (*It's written as though it was being said on stage in much the way a standup comedian might perform it)

Hello yes hi how are we all?

You’re out! In the real world. Experiencing a real thing. Not watching the coloured box of death. The little metal shouty thing that’s invaded all our lives!

I can’t even watch Television anymore, it’s become too out of touch. It’s insane the things they think we should be watching. You see it with marketing you know, these adverts. Once upon a time, advertisements made sense. They were straight forward, using logical people to sell you useful things. You’d be sitting there covered in fresh blood and a woman with big hair would say, “Get the stains out in 2 hours with minimal scrubbing! Ajax” or whatever. So you’d buy the thing. Because it made sense and you needed it anyway and you didn’t feel tricked.

Now they approach it in a different way. It’s much more aggressive and manipulative. You have a woman doing the dishes and then the husband comes home from work or school or wherever they go and he says, “Beverly I don’t love you anymore.” And she turns, this image of Mary Berry in a polka dot dress and says, “I’m sleeping with your father. Hahahaha.” And shoots him in the head. And then it goes, “Ajax, because you deserve better” or something like that and it feels a little… detached from reality. They stopped selling us products and started selling us these dreams of what they think we want. I remember when cooking shows made sense. A woman would come out and show you how to set the timer on your microwave so the chicken didn’t dry out too much or come alive or something. Now they’ve fetishized the baked beans to such an extent that kids turn to their parents at dinner time and say, “Is it fried in truffle oil? No? Then I’m not having it. Would you at least making a fucking effort Mother.”

And all this fetishized nonsense has pushed the price up. I remember when you didn’t need a second mortgage just to afford a bag of onions. I remember when I could by onions and tomatoes in the same month. And they didn’t have to be organic! You used to be able to choose. You could choose between buying organic or not starving, and it was a decision we all got to make each week.

Then there’s these home living shows, do you ever try to watch these? The young couple who had a significant family member die, inherited a few million and decided to convert an abandoned petrol station into a 2 bedroom bungalow with a chocolate swimming pool and walk in freezer. Again, we fetishized houses so the market went crazy and now you have to be a lawyer-prostitute to afford one.

So what do they do to help us deal with the disappointment? Drugs! “Do you ever get thirsty?” a man in a white coat who looks vaguely like the eldest child from Home Improvement asks. Looking up from your jug of rum you say, “Yes! Yes I do.”

Well you might have OLDD or Oral Liquid Digesting Dysfunction.

Shit, you think, what can I do about it?

Next comes a lovely image of a man taking his shoes off at the beach and the voice over goes, “For just the price of a small corvette each year, we can help you feel like this guy with sand between his toes.” And your drunken self struggles with this notion. But meanwhile you’re already signing up to a 12 year subscription and purchasing the loose-your-pills insurance plan at the same time.

So this idea of tv aspirations just isn’t sustainable. You can’t be gods like the presenters you watch. You can never purchase enough shit to be king. And if you try and set your aspirations where they want you to, you’ll end up a withered corpse gripping a box of golden cornflakes in a public bathroom being eaten alive by wolves.

Thank you very much.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Heart Shaped Wound

Chapter 22

Author’s Note: please enjoy! I wanted some more Hanayama/ Jun time.

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

   “You took a minute to get home.” Zaria stated when (your name) walked through the door. Her dark hands digging into a bowl full of unshelled pistachios. “Did you run into somebody? Was it the homeless guy?”

     “He’s not homeless.”

     “Could’ve fooled me.” Zaria mumbled to herself, shoving a handful of pistachios in her mouth. She loved salted nuts. “You need to stop doing charity cases but I do admit. Scummy guys usually have big d-“

      “I don’t even want you to finish that. I’m going to go change my clothes and then go train a bit on the beach.”

     “Do it in a bikini. That’ll make Hanayama will pay for our mortgage then.” 

     “You’re awful.”

     “But I’m smart!” Zaria laughed, pointing a manicured finger at (your name). “You have a sugar daddy that you don’t even give sugar to. You have to made. I always had to give sugar when I was an escort. Atsushi makes enough for just himself so I might have to sink my claws into another man.”

     “You’re ruthless.”

    “Well he knows we’re just friends with bennies.” Zaria placed a few more pistachios in her mouth, her brow raising a bit. “I’m still going to try for that doctor you had. He was pretty.”

    “You do that.” (Your name) replied, heading into her room.

     “But all the hot guys seem to like you.” Zaria sighed before sending (your name) a flirty smile. “I’m willing to have your sloppy seconds if you do decide to test drive-“

     “You’re horrible!” (Your name) screeched, slamming her bedroom door shut. Zaria chuckling before glancing at the neatly wrapped present (your name) had gotten from Hanayama as well as a new package she had gotten from doctor Shinogi.

      “Don’t forget to open your gift from your sugar daddies!”

     “Sugar daddies? As in plural?” (Your name) quickly opened her door and peaked her head out. Her brows furrowed.

      “Yes the pretty doctor with the long red hair. Do you think he’d let me pull it-“ Zaria squealed when I pillow was thrown at her head. “I’m just kidding! Jeez. Share some mandies with me.”

      “Let me change and then I’ll open them.” (Your name) shut her door. Her hands rummaging through her drawers to grab a swimsuit, a tank top, and some shorts. 

     (Your name) shed her work clothes, changing into the bikini and putting a tank top and shorts over it. 

      (Your name) sighed to herself, opening up the door to see an excited Zaria.

     “Open them! I’ve been dying to see what’s inside!” 

      (Your name) clicked her tongue before making her way over to the presents sitting on the table. Her hands brushing over the smooth black wrapping paper of Hanayama’s present. That man spoiled her without them being official, she couldn’t even begin to imagine all the things he’d do for her if she accepted him.

     (Skin color) fingers carefully ripped open the wrapping paper over the long thin box. Her hands grasping the lid with excited fervor, the sight of a red dress covered in red diamonds greeting her sore eyes. Hanayama has done it again. 

      (Your name) held up the dress to Zaria who gasped.

     “Oh wow! A sparkly strapless dress with a slit on the side? If that doesn’t scream Jessica Rabbit I don’t know what does.” Zaria put her thumbs together and held up her hands like she was going to take a picture of (your name). “He loves dressing you up to the nines.”

     (Your name) had to admit that Hanayama had fantastic taste in clothing but he did sort of make her feel like a doll. He loved dressing her in more mature colors.

       “Now open the one from the pretty doctor-“

     (Your name) sighed, moving her attention onto the other gift that was wrapped in ivy green paper. Her hands hesitantly opening the gift, her (eye color) eyes widening at its contents.

     “What did you get?”

     “It’s also a dress.” (Your name) held up an off shoulder emerald green dress made of velvet. “It’s gorgeous as well.”

     “Battle of the sugar daddies.”

     (Your name) shook her head at Zaria, her attention focused on the notes in each box. Thank goodness Hanayama wanted to take her out Friday night while Kureha wanted to take her out to dinner on Saturday night. 

      “It seems I’m going to have another busy weekend.” 

    “You should ask Jack out on Sunday. Maybe have him spend the night here?” Zaria wiggled her eyebrows at (your name), causing (your name) scoff.

     “I don’t think he’d fit in our house comfortably. I’d have to spend the night at his place for him to even be comfortable. I think it’s better if him and I just enjoy each other’s company instead of spending the night with each other anyways.”

     “Oh? Why is that?” Zaria’s smile stretched as wide as the Cheshire cat’s. Her eyes gleaming in curiosity.

     “I’m very attracted to him-“ Zaria jumped off the couch with a squeal and ran towards her room. 

     She then came back with a box of extra large condoms, causing (your name) to choke on her spit.

     “What the hell-“

     “It’s dangerous to go alone, take this.” (Your name) smacked the box out of Zaria’s hands.

     “No! I’m not going to sleep with him!” (Your name)’s whole face flushed a bright red, the young woman coughing into her hand to try to regain her composure. “I… I just think he’s very strong and he makes me feel safe… I like how much bigger he is than me and how he tries to be so gentle.”

     “Congratulations. You’re genuinely attracted to someone that would probably rip you in half.” Zaria picked up the box of condoms and slid them across the table to (your name). “I’m telling you from my hoe escapades that I think you should start off with Katsumi. He’s literally the only one who won’t tear you a new hole or destroy you from the inside out. You don’t want to be known as (your name) on a stick edition-“

     “I just like Jack. That doesn’t mean I want to… you know.”

     “Well I can take you through the whole sex education 101 and teach you how to give a fantastic blow-“

     “I’m good. I’ll probably be making a decision in a month or so.”

      “I think you should keep the harem option.” Zaria bluntly stated. “No strings attached, no jealousy, no commitment, no clinginess, and you can be with whoever you want whenever you want. It’s perfect for you.”

     “But I have almost no time to myself.” (Your name) sighed, throwing her he’s back to look at the ceiling. Has it always looked like waffles? “I just want to lay in my bed and rot some days.”

     “Katsumi seems to relax you. He loves laid back days.”

     “He’s a really great guy, he just lacks the parental issue spiciness.” (Your name) joked, Zaria narrowing her brows.

     “He’s a guy without any emotional baggage and he knows how to love in a healthy way-“

     “But is he going to fist fight his dad in a McDonald’s parking lot? No.”

    The two girls stared at each other dead in the eyes before howling with laughter.

      “That would be funny as hell.”

     “My job is to keep the people entertained.” (Your name) pointed at her head with a wink. “I always want to have a good time.”

     “But Katsumi is still your best healthy relationship option.”

     “You talk about him like he’s some kind of kale salad I need to eat or something.”

     “I mean he does look kind of yummy-“

      “Shh. I don’t need that own image back in my head again.” (Your name) circled her hand around her head with a sigh. “Begone impure thoughts.”

      “You’re goofy.”

.

.

.

      (Your name) stretched her arms above head head as she stood along the shore. The waves tickling her bare toes. She absolutely loved living on the beach and the tranquility it brought her. 

      A salty breeze ran through her hair, blowing it around into a soft dance. How she’d love to live on the beach forever. Especially during the sunset.

      “(Your name)?” (Your name) turned her head around to see a face she hoped not to run into again. The sand crunching under earth his bare feet.

      “We meet again, Jun.” (Your name) sighed when the pirate beamed at her. 

      “I’ve been walking all over Japan looking for you!” Jun held out his arms for her to leap into, (your name) shaking her head at the delusional pirate. Jun quickly lowering his arms. “You’re a very hard woman to find. I’m glad to know that you’re not actually dating that monster of a man.”

       “Excuse me?” (Your name) glared at Jun in anger. Did he really just call Jack a monster when Jun has killed people? 

       “If you were just trying to make me jealous, you did a great job! I was so jealous I was shaking!” Jun couldn’t possibly be this stupid right? Had someone hid his head too hard while he was in prison and knocked even more screws loose in his head? “How about we hug it out?”

      “I’m not interested in you or mending our relationship.” (Your name) hissed, holding her arms up in an defensive position. “Now leave before I fight you.”

     “Fight me? Have you been hanging around people who fight? You know I always hated when you’d immediately resort to violence.” Jun clicked his tongue, chiding (your name). “It’s unladylike to talk with your fists. But I’m willing to speak with them.”

     (Your name) ducked her body below, prepared to strike Jun once he made a move.

       “I’ll take you away from this violent life. We’ll travel the seven seas together, just like I promised-“

     Before Jun could even get in another word, a familiar yakuza made his way down the beach with a gift in hand. Jun narrowing his eyes at the intruder.

      “And who are you?” Jun sneered, Hanayama simply ignoring him. 

     “(Your name)? I came just like I said I would.” Hanayama told (your name), his eyes never leaving her face to give Jun attention. He needed to divert (your name) away from her ex so he could throw down Jun properly.

      “Thanks, Kaoru.” (Your name) told the giant yakuza, her eyes glancing at Jun in disinterest. “It seems I will not be talking to you with my fists today as I now have a guest. Please leave.”

      “Don’t walk away from me-“ Jun bumped straight into Hanayama, the pirate gulping when he glanced up at the terrifying man before him. If he thought Jack was a monster, then what the hell did that make this man before him? A beast?

     “She said to leave and if you won’t, I’m willing to talk with my fists.” Hanayama held up his hands, Jun paling at the muscles that flexed in between each of Hanayama’s fingers. This man was terrifying. Just what kind of men was (your name) surrounding herself with? She really needed to be saved. “Do you understand?”

      Jun threw his hands in his pockets. He didn’t stand a chance against this guy either and he wasn’t even going to try. He’d have to go for (your name) when she was alone. If (your name) was still the same as she was years ago, he’d easily over power her like he used to when they fought.

      Hanayama placed his hand on the small do (Your name)‘s back, guiding her towards his car. He wasn’t going to let Jun know that the house on this beach was (your name)’s. He knew Jun was dangerous, but not enough to be a threat to him or (your name). Jun would be the biggest threat to Zaria and Hanayama didn’t want (your name)’s loved ones to get hurt in the crossfire.

     “Thank you, Hanayama.” (Your name) smiled up at Hanayama. “I’d probably be in prison if you didn’t step in. So thank you for saving me.”

     “I want to give you my number.” Hanayama told (your name), his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. “That way you can call me whenever you need me.”

      (Your name) smiled up at him. “I don’t need to do that. You’re always here watching me anyways.” (Your name) chuckled, her eyes shining with mischief. “Your black limousine isn’t as discreet as you may have believed. I do appreciate you for stepping in between Jun and I but you cannot keep 24/7 surveillance on me. If I take your number, we can resume as normal and I’ll forget about you watching me whenever you have time. Deal?”

     Hanayama gave her the smallest of smiles. She was a smart woman and it was one of the traits he loved about her.

     “Deal.” The two carried on walking together towards the limousine in the sunset. 

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

Author’s note: thanks for reading. 

[besidesitstoowarm]

"The Impossible Planet" thoughts

i'd like to take moment to recognize that for once i was able to spot a guest star i knew from another show and it WASN'T house md. this time it was witcher. thank you

so this is kind of a weird one. it's one of the most "traditional sci fi" episodes we've had so far while being about the literal devil, in no uncertain terms whatsoever. i'm used to shows like supernatural, shows that even when set in the modern day draw from an air of antiquity when bringing in angels and demons and whatnot (good omens comes to mind as well). it's always all ancient texts and secret histories and all that. well, the devil is real and he's in outer space this time. i'm not going to question it, in fact i firmly welcome it

the episode starts with a joke about space bases, air bases, water bases, they're all the same and might as well be made from a kit. this is in no way a lighthearted dig at the second doctor era as every one of those bases was lovingly crafted and beautifully distinct. obviously

my best friends the ood are here. the ood are probably my favorite new who creature bc they are just so shaped (fave new who villain is probably the weeping angels, surprise surprise). my bf said out loud "so just like house elves" and he's not wrong (the description of them as a "basic slave race" and how they pine away and die without orders, for example). the difference, of course, is that the ood are treated with respect and eventually liberated, and the protagonists are empathetic towards them, and do not own any of them or think about wishing their slaves would make them sandwiches

also according to my bf, the door opening sound effects are from the original doom. i'm not going to google it but there's a fun fact for you unless it's wrong

i like rose doing her thing and being nice to the ood serving her black beans and soy sauce, it looks like. sharing her own experience in that job, apologizing for maybe misgendering it, asking if it gets paid. what are your pronouns and would you like to join my union type talk. it says "the beast and his armies shall rise from the pit and challenge god" which i have wanted to say word for word to some of my customers before too

the doctor confirms that tardises are grown, not built, which is cool. i really like their exchange about being stranded and having to get a mortgage and the doctor saying he'd rather give up and die, it was cute and funny and rose saying "oh me too... unless..." and there was only. one. mortgage. it was a nice moment, it reminded me of what i like about them together! and her kissing his helmet before he went down onto the planet surface was cute too

this episode went further along in the plot than i remembered so i don't know what is even in part 2. time to find out!

[wernher-von-brawny]

Wait -- I missed where "writers deserve attention more than actors" became a thing. This is the first I've seen that said.

My understanding, and what I've seen presented in the socials, is that Writers are joined by Actors are joined by UPS drivers and maybe Autoworkers and others to come.

Frankly, when I see someone dropping a hot take about a controversy I haven't heard mention of before, my first thought is "Nice try, cop."

So I Googled the phrase.

First and only divisive return outside of this Tumblr post -- lots of meditations on the word "deserve", but these seemed to lump all greedy creatives together -- was a Twitter bro saying "Writers deserve more respect." Not the same as "more attention", but still…

Smells like cop BS to me.

Like, COINTELPRO laid out how a major tactic to undermine anti-capitalist movements is the use of moles to stir up trouble, encourage extremism and self-destructive activity, and exacerbate tension between potential comrades.

And sometimes to tell the cops and the FBI exactly which bedroom Fred Hampton was sleeping in so they could bang. bang, bang away the looming potential electoral power of the Black Panthers.

Every moment spent engaging with statements like these -- even to refute them -- is a second stolen from building solidarity. At least that's my opinion.

EVERYBODY is getting fucked by, as Comrade Burnham put it, "the pedophilic corporate elite".

So even entertaining discussion about internal heirarchies of "deservedness" is triggering to my ancient, PTSD-addled nerves.

It calls to mind how the Boomer counterculture movement, united by fear of forced conscription, "ended a war" (as they unceasingly bragged well into the 90s), and then -- lacking a unifying pain point -- splintered off into special interests (like cocaine, disco, and money -- zing!) and fragmented their collective power, just at the post-Watergate moment when they might possibly have been able to force socialized medicine or a Constitutional amendment on reproductive rights or Glob know what else past a demoralized conservative establishment.

Instead, everybody went off to do EST and "personal work", and then voted Reagan into power. (Thanks, Boomers!)

In any case, my point is when these bitter and biased old eyes of mine see stuff that could even possibly be misinterpreted as neoliberal copaganda, that only the most paranoid crank (hi there!) would suspect of being a false flag attack on left unity, my brain fires off that most sacred of incantations: "Nice try, cop!"

And so I exhort all y'all who are engaged in the struggle: don't compete over who has the deeper grievance or the greater suffering.

First, get the job done: kill the rich, un-enclose the commons, save the planet.

And after all that has been accomplished, and you are in your comfortable, UBI-subsidized, eco-socialist retirement years, you can gather on your rent and mortgage-free porches, enjoy the sunset through clean, safe air…

And THEN you can indulge in that prerogative of bitter old cranks, and bitch and moan about who had it worse.

Dinner first, my comrades. Then dessert.

"writers deserve attention more than actors" literally only 2% of actors can pay the bills with acting. For every megastar on screen there are a dozen other people in the shot who are SAG. Acting gets so glamorized but there are SO MANY people in SAG who NEED residuals to live on. Background Party Girl #4 needs her check too!!!! There are people who play recurring characters on syndicated shows who cant afford health insurance!!! Ke Huy Quan gave an oscar winning performance and LOST HIS HEALTH INSURANCE the next year.

[r2d2stay]

1200 for rent, sure, 750 for mortgage, denied

That's pretty egregious right? That would be a pretty cool topic for a post, right? Here's a curatedtumblr thread about it, and here's the original post:

Wait a second, someone said they read the linked article, and only 1700 people qualified under this program, out of 5 million homes in a year. That's nothing!

Ah, but I tricked you.

This is a post about misinformation, misuse of statistics, and general internet best practices.

The top three comments at the moment are all super pessimistic, and in particular, the third, and first response to the second, are actively misinformed.

The 1700 thing is not entirely false! To quote the article:

"Positive rental history (PRH) has been included... since October 30, 2022, and lenders have been required to report PRH since March 25, 2023... Because of this policy change, as of August 31, 2023, 1,727 endorsements that otherwise would have required manual underwriting were accepted through TOTAL."

...There's a problem here, though, beyond the fact that it was only really active for 5 months or so (because why would lenders help you if they weren't forced to).

Why are we comparing 1727 to 5,000,000? Well, that's the number of extra homes bought, out of the number of extra homes, right?

Nah, sorry.

The Actual Statistics:

That's the number of extra homes of first time buyers, with at least 620 credit score, who wouldn't have been approved, who got extra homes.

Which means, we should be looking at those. First time buyers accounted for 32% of buyers (Statista and Opendoor corroborate, direct links updated to 2024, sorry) out of 4.03 million total (National Association of Realtors, also updated). That already cuts us down to 1.28 million.

620 credit score is... basically nothing here; that's less than 2% of current home applications (Ellie Mae), so basically everyone qualified on that.

And here's the big one: Who wouldn't have been approved? It's like, 10% of the rest.

Depending on source, you get somewhere between 86% and 90% general home approval rate, i.e. between 10% and 14% aren't approved. According to NAR again, 77% got financing, and of the remaining, 41% didn't apply, which roughly matches the 14% number.

In addition to that 41% who didn't apply, 12% were due to low credit, 9% insufficient down payment, 7% not enough cash in reserve, and 6% insufficient time in job. 30% were "other", with little bits making up the rest.

Okay, so the low credit people are probably out; you can get loans at 580, so they wouldn't have benefited. If we keep everything else, that leaves 10.8%, or out of 1.28 million, 138,000 people per year.

Note that this isn't accurate. In particular, first time home buyers are more likely to not get approved. But this is an okay approximate.

So we've gone from 5 million to 138,000, a multiplier of 36.

"But that's still like 1% of the people!", I might hear you say.

And this is true! For 2023.

Policy Takes Time Guys

For comparison, the Affordable Care Act recently released data showing that about 12 million people were covered in 2013. But in 10 years, this has expanded to 45 million people. That's going from about 4% of the population, to about 15%!

You might say, significantly fewer people signed up each subsequent year, then, right? You'd be technically correct, but Positive Rental History has every indication that it will do better than the 4x rate, not worse.

First, the ACA was targeted at uninsured people in the US. That's already a target of less than 8% of the population; compare to the 34% that currently rent. It has way more room to expand.

Second, home loans are more of a continuous stream, while covered individuals are more of a population. (This isn't entirely true, as you can think of "homeowners" as a population, but given that we just said less than a third of home buyers are first time, I think this is fine.)

You can think of it this way: When you help someone buy a home, you're assisting in 1 purchase. When you help someone get health insurance, you help them buy many things over time; if they need it once a year, you're assisting in 1 purchase a year. So just as 12 million purchases a year is analogous to 1700 purchases a year, 45 million purchases a year is analogous to 6000 purchases a year.

Third, they didn't even fully implement it until halfway through the year. Obamacare was plagued by the fact that it had a 90 minute crash at the beginning, before it even kicked in - What's not forcing renters to follow this act going to do to the adoption rate? If we account for the 5 months renters were forced to play ball instead of 12, then it's more like 4100 houses a year.

Estimation With Wild Abandon

With all of this, it would not be unreasonable to expect this to go from 4000 houses to 20,000 over 10 years, helping well over 200,000 people buy houses. Not crazy good, but extrapolating linearly over the 30 year lifespan of the generation/mortgage cycle, that's 200k, then 400k, then 600k, for a total of 1.2 million houses.

(I should cite u/nat20sfail here, since while their math is wrong in several places, they did come to 120,000 in 10 years, which is pretty reasonable, and most of my numbers are following/correcting theirs.)

And we can do even better!

Because Knowledge is Power

The WHOLE POINT of the original post was to say people should be shouting this from the hills! Everyone should know that this is a thing that exists!

The reason that nearly 90% of applications are accepted is because people don't know that they can try. Memes about how awful getting a mortgage is, and worse, actual misinformation about it, is actively preventing people from buying homes! Over a quarter of affordable homes were purchased by corporations in Q1 2024. Take some of that back!

Now, should everyone who can pay 1200 rent with a 650 credit score be scrambling to make the $6090 3.5% downpayment on an FHA loan on a $174,000 house, paying roughly $754 for the loan and $371 in taxes and fees? No, obviously not. Not only do situations vary, there are more expenses than that and you should save a much larger emergency fund before going all in on a house.

However, if you do have at least a 620 credit score or are close enough to build it, have an emergency fund, can make either a bigger downpayment or buy a smaller house, are pretty sure you know where you want to live for the rest of your life, and are sick of paying rent? Biden/Harris has actively helped get you qualify for a house and/or lower your mortgage payment. Now you just have to go take advantage of it.

[americamortgages]

No Citizenship? No Problem! How to Get a U.S. Mortgage as a Non-U.S. Citizen

If you’re a non-U.S. citizen interested in buying an investment property in the United States, you might think getting a mortgage is out of the question. However, this is not necessarily the case. It is possible to obtain a U.S. mortgage even if you are not a U.S. citizen or have a green card.

The type of mortgage you can obtain depends on your residency status. If you are a permanent resident alien with a green card, you can apply for a mortgage in much the same way as U.S. citizens. You will need to provide documentation showing that you have a green card and a social security number. Lenders will look at your credit history and financial situation to determine whether you are eligible for a loan.

If you are a non-permanent resident alien, meaning that you don’t have a green card but you do have a social security number or an ITIN (Individual Taxpayer Identification Number), in that case, you can still obtain a mortgage. To do so, you will need to provide a work permit or special employer-sponsored visa, and lenders will need to verify that you can live and work in the United States for at least three years.

Non-U.S. citizens who do not have lawful residency in the United States are not eligible for Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac, or FHA home loans. However, there are still many options available to them. Foreign national loans are available for non-residents who want to purchase a vacation or investment property in the U.S.

America Mortgages is the industry expert in foreign national loans. We offer two popular programs:

AM Express+: This program is designed for borrowers who cannot show the required income for various reasons, such as self-employment, lumpy income, or privacy concerns. It doesn’t require income verification, U.S. credit, or residency and has a high LTV (loan-to-value) ratio of 75%.

AM Investor+: This program is designed for borrowers who can show their foreign income through a simplified process, qualifying much like a U.S. citizen. Rates are comparable to what a U.S. citizen would pay, and the LTV can go as high as 75% without reserves required.

America Mortgages is the only global mortgage originator laser focused on U.S. real estate financing with offices in Singapore, Hong Kong, and Shanghai, London, Paris, and Sydney. They offer borderless mortgages, making it easy for U.S. expats and foreign nationals to purchase property in the U.S. without ever leaving their home country or country of residence.

One of the challenges that foreign borrowers face when trying to obtain a U.S. mortgage is the lack of credit history. It can take years to accumulate enough credit history to generate a good score. However, America Mortgages can accept a foreign credit report instead of a standard U.S. credit report. This is a unique feature that sets America Mortgages apart from other US-based lenders and brokers.

If you are a U.S. expat who files U.S. taxes but works for a foreign company and doesn’t receive a W2, America Mortgages has a program for you. Our US expat mortgage program looks at your foreign income just as it would if it were paid in U.S. dollars. Your W2 is offset with other documents, and your loan is processed just as it would if you were in the U.S. This program does require sufficient U.S. credit, but if U.S. credit isn’t an option because you’ve been abroad for many years, America Mortgages has programs for these borrowers as well.

In summary, non-U.S. citizens can obtain a mortgage in the United States regardless if they have a green card or social security number. Foreign national mortgage programs, like the ones offered by America Mortgages, have made it easier for borrowers outside the U.S. to finance second homes or investment properties in the country. These programs allow borrowers to make smaller down payments and receive competitive interest rates. America Mortgages also offers programs for U.S. expats and those without sufficient U.S. credit, making it a welcoming option for almost every type of borrower.

Reference: https://www.americamortgages.com/no-citizenship-no-problem-how-to-get-a-u-s-mortgage-as-a-non-u-s-citizen/