#seriously i’ve had this mug for like 10-12 years

[nogooddeetz]

seeing the movie made me want to pull out my beloved wicked coffee cup that my dad got me from a trip to london more than a decade ago

can you tell it’s been a beloved souvenir? i swear it used to say “wicked”, now it’s just a tiny adrift elphaba lmao

excuse the snoot, i can’t do anything without it following me

[spaceroadtrip]

I am absolutely terrible when it comes to writing anything about my own WIPs on this blog despite making a specific writing side blog for this purpose. So I thought I'd share a list of some of my favourite quotes from Spes Super Sydera--out of context, of course! Spes Super Sydera is my sci-fi WIP centring on the main character, Eloise, and her struggle to unravel what exactly happened to her dad after he went missing on a deep-space mission about a year before the book starts. It involves heists, kidnapping, potential aliens, and adventures on spaceships.

Here beginth part one of the quotes:

(They were all going to go here but I started reading the earlier chapters and discovering more and more bits that I enjoyed so I'm splitting it up. I've currently got 42 chapters and counting. Don't know how that happened!)

Ch. 5: “Don’t look at me like that. I haven’t done anything illegal—personally, anyway."

Ch. 6: “I vote for breaking the door down.” Charlie bounces on the balls of her feet and rubs her hands together far too gleefully for Eloise’s tastes. “I’ve always wanted to have a go with an axe.”

Ch. 7: Not that she expects to find many vases down here. It’s not the sort of thing that a space exploration company tends to keep in their important archives that are off-limits to most people. Unless it’s a vase from space, perhaps. An alien vase would be worth keeping.

Ch. 7: “I’m delegating like any good leader does. Hop to it, peasant.”

Ch. 10: Eloise gives up on thinking and climbs onto her bed so she can scream into the pillows. It’s cathartic.

Ch. 12: With a sigh, Eloise kicks her heels against the desk drawers from her position atop the desk. “Am I supposed to do all the talking now? I’m not sure I like the sound of my own voice enough for that sort of commitment.”

“I’m thinking,” Rebecca snarls, catching one of Eloise’s feet in an iron grip. “Something that would be easier if you could sit still. We’re not children anymore.”

“Don’t I know it. I never had to deal with international security secrets or conspiracies when I was a kid. It was usually just low-level bureaucratic bribery and incompetency.”

“My, aren’t you hilarious.”

“One of us has to be.”

Ch. 16: Charlie kicks one of her feet up to bop Eloise on the nose and she scowls, batting the offending foot away before the smell of sweaty feet overwhelms her. “Give over, Eloise. My feet smell of daises and lavender if they smell of anything at all because I actually remember to shower regularly, unlike some people.” She glances around the circle and everyone stares right back, utterly unbothered by her accusations.

Ch. 18: "For someone who’s supposed to be our leader, you don’t seem to be paying much attention,” Dom drawls, reaching around the back of Charlie’s chair he can jab Eloise’s shoulder—hard.

Rebecca scowls. “I contest that. Eloise is not our leader.”

“Seconded.” Eloise sticks her hand in the air and reaches for her coffee mug. Someone pushes it out of the way. “Hey! Seriously, I don’t want to be in charge of you lot. I can barely stay in charge of myself.”

Ch. 18: Benedict folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair, managing to look remarkedly intimidating for a short and rather gangly man wearing a fluffy dressing gown and dog-shaped slippers. It’s a skill Eloise would pay to learn.

Ch. 19: Not, of course, that Eloise is actively planning to try. But if the opportunity presents itself? Well, who is she to stand in the way of the universe?

Ch. 20: A sudden crackle in Eloise’s ear makes her jump. She almost claps her hand over the earpiece, barely managing to turn the gesture into smoothing other a non-existent errant strand of hair.

“Are we going for full-on lies now, Eloise? Careful it doesn’t come back to bite you on the ass,” Rebecca says in a sing-song voice, sounding strangely chirpy. It’s disconcerting.

“Oh, we’re being a proper peanut gallery then, are we?” That’s Charlie and her words are fainter, as though she’s further away from the microphone.

Muffled rustling fills Eloise’s ear. “No. We’re here to listen. And provide useful comments.”

“Useful. As if anyone has ever had any of those.” A burst of bright laughter fills Eloise’s ear after Benedict’s grumbly words and she winces again, cringing at the too-loud noise.

Ch. 22: “The hell is wrong with you? Not everything requires a kidnapping.” Charlie shrugs as Dom cards both hands through his hair, restyling his artfully tousled curls into something resembling a particularly unkempt bird nest.

[theschubita]

OPENING LINES GAME!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories. (If you have less than 20, just list them all!) See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Tag some people to play the next round!

I got tagged by @nooowestayandgetcaught Love youuu ♥

-

1.  Roger had always listened to how Brian would gush about soulmates, but in each version of his future vision he was happily married with wife and kids – Roger knew his parents were mostly to blame but he wondered what Brian would do if his soulmate turned out to be a guy, unable to marry him or give him children.

2. It’s not about sex with them – well, no, it was, but that wasn’t why.

3.  Roger glumly watched as Tim walked away, before he took a swig of beer and turned to Brian.

4.  Roger had been acting – off – for a few weeks now, Brian noticed.

5. Roger didn't know whose idea it was to record at some shoddy farm, but he wasn't a fan.

6.  Someone was pounding on Roger's door at 2AM, and if someone wasn't dying, or dead, Roger would make sure they were by the time he was finished with them.

7.  John knew he shouldn't stare.

8.  John had been acting weird the past few days, Roger thought to himself.

9.  A few mornings later, Roger found himself snarking with Deaky over their latest songs, while Freddie was hiding a smirk behind a mug of coffee.

10.  The scene Roger and John walked into was – weird.

11.  “You and Roger are permanently banned from the kitchen,” John told Freddie in a tone that booked no argument.

12.  Months after Tim had left Smile behind for Humpy Bong (and God, once Roger had come down from his funk, they’d shared a good laugh about it), Freddie finally found somewhere he fit, but they were still facing the same old problem; finding a bass player.

13.  Brian felt like a naughty schoolboy, approaching the snoring lump carefully, but he had plans.

14.  Roger had a love-hate relationship with the subject of soulmates.

15.  Roger’s earlier anger had simmered down a bit; Deaky’s track was good, and after Paul finally had fucked off, they had gotten some actual recording done.

16.  The crowd tonight was kind of – listless, for a lack of a better term, and Freddie hated it.

17.  There was a lot of attention missing from home – a lot directed towards disagreements and icy silences.

18.  John was sick and tired of this shit.

19.  Bobby wouldn’t be surprised if there was an actual thundercloud hanging over the mansion.

20.  “Do you always do what you’re told?”

-

okay so, thoughts - HAHA While the most recent ones I posted were from 2-3 Years ago, it’s not hard to gues with whom I was obsessed with, oh my god. Like, I was glad for every fic that didn’t start with *Roger*. I hope I’ve been switchting it up since then, seriously.

Tagging anyone who wants to do this too, plus @you-oughta-know, @talkingismylifewrites, @riceinthechurch, @a-froger-epic ♥♥♥♥ (but no pressure ;).

[southernchicstyle]

Swan Princess Party

A magical black and white swan princess party with pink, of course!

The idea of a swan party was inspired by the swan pool float we have had for a few years. It just so happened my daughter was into Barbie’s Swan Princess movie when I started planning her 4th birthday.

So, the swan idea came to life around swans and princesses  - feathers, ballet shoes (as an ode to Swan Lake), swans, and black and white accented with pink. Cake by Wink by Erika with added “4″ candle, photos by Johnny Than.

Black linens on the table with our white charivari chairs pulled in the colors perfectly! And, the cute swan plates looked great on the black linens. To turn the swan plates into swan princess plates, I found gold crowns and added them to the plates. Ta-da! Swan princess plates. We added the gold crowns to the swan masks, as well.

Behind the kids’s table, we hung silk wisteria on fishing line to have a hanging floral accent. It took way more pieces than I imagined (and I still wish I’d done more of them), but it was a fun photo spot.

The  centerpieces were one of my all time favorites! I found the set of three swans in different sizes and ordered 2. My mom arranged the fresh flowers for the party and put them in the swan planters.

The food even reflected the black, white, and pink theme! Black licorice, chocolates, and chocolate goldfish were spread with yogurt covered pretzels, vanilla sugar wafers, iced animal cookies, vanilla ding dongs, white M&Ms, mini white chocolate Oreos, white chocolate covered mini Rice Krispie treats, white swirl suckers, white chocolate truffles, and pink M&Ms on my favorite melamine platter.

Another tray had the almost black colored grapes and an assortment of white cheeses, marcona almonds, macadamia nuts, and Pirate’s Booty.

We also used black rock candy in a container with more of the white chocolate pearls.  And, I found a great jewelry stand to display powdered donuts and chocolate donuts. Now the jewelry stand holds my daughter’s headbands.

White feather boas were great for draping around platters and decorations. And, we used the same flowers from our daughter’s Garden Party first birthday to add pink accents to the feathers (seriously the best faux peonies I’ve ever found).

For decorated cookies, I chose a “4″ for the 4 year old along with a feather and swans. These were done by Sweets by Shey and were tasty and on theme. She even added a little sparkle to the 4s.

The tiered serving piece has become my go-to piece for the decorated cookies at the parties, so I’m linking it here.

Another tray of food included White Cheddar Cheez-its, Pirates Booty, white cheddar popcorn, Chicken-in-a-Biscuit, Wheat Thins, and pink Goldfish to continue the white and pink foods.

I really enjoy carrying a theme all throughout the party, if you can’t tell.

I found the cutest swan cups for all of the kids that we kept on the beverage table alongside “Swan Lake Lemonade” (pink, of course!) and the cutest swan mugs from Manor used for additional florals.

The floral swan printable sign was perfectly on theme and is linked here.

In addition to the feather and floral decor, we used swan stuffed animals like the ballerina swan pictured below from Manor.

Isn’t she a beauty with her crown and ballet slippers?!?

Now to discuss my sweet girl’s dress! 

Every year Cuteheads makes a custom piece for the birthday girl to wear. This year, Esther must have read my mind because she created this piece that was perfect for a Swan Princess Ballerina party - light pink tulle with swans all over accessorized with ballet flats and a peony hair piece. 

Our swan princess ballerina was overjoyed when Rapunzel showed up to let her know Odette from Swan Lake sends birthday wishes! Fairest of All Parties has the BEST princesses in the Houston area. They worked with me tirelessly to try to have Odette from Swan Lake, but the costume was nowhere to be found and there was not enough time to create one. 

My daughter’s favorite princess at the time was Rapunzel, so it was a welcome surprise for her. Rapunzel sang (beautifully) with the kids, told stories, and shared a treasure chest of treasures. She even did face painting on the kids. 

We loved her so much, we used Fairest of All Parties for the 5th birthday (post coming soon) and are now planning number 6 with another Fairest of All Parties princess. 

Favors for the kids included a swan princess holder, swan princess “Thank You” sticker, princess crown full of candy, princess lip balm, princess rings, princess bracelets, and stickers tied with tulle.

Here’s a complete source list of all of the party things:

Ballet Slippers $35

Ballet Shoes (on birthday girl) $14.59

Balloon Garland (used black, silver, & white on balloon tape accented with greenery and feathers) 

Black linens (pintuck taffeta): Round $28, Rectangle $30

Candle (pink number 4) $6

Cake: Wink by Erika

Ceramic Swan Mugs: The Manor $20

Cookies: Sweets  by Shey

Dress: Cuteheads

Feathers: 12-14″ $12.99, 5-7″ $7.50

Feather Boas $8.59

Feather Garland $11.69

Flowers (hanging silk wisteria, 6 pieces) $12.99

Gold Crown Stickers (pack of 100) $11.85

Invites $8 (pdf & printed at Katie & Co.)

Ostrich Feathers (12-14″, 10 pieces) $12.99

Peonies $9.99 per bunch

Peony Hairpiece $15.98

Princess: Fairest of All Parties

Princess Crown in Favors (12 count) $12.99

Princess Lip Balm (8 count) $7.32

Princess Ring (36 count) $13.99

Rose Gold Cups, Plates, & Silverware (150 count) $27.99

Rose Gold Crowns (12 pack) $8.99

Swan Backdrop $18.90

Swan Ballerina: The Manor

Swan Cake: Wink by Erika

Swan Centerpieces (set of 3) $34.99

Swan Cupcake Toppers (12 pack) $12.07

Swan Cups with Straws (set of 8) $20.58

Swan Lake Lemonade Printable Sign (Invite designer made it at my request)

Swan Masks/Photo Glasses $4.99

Swan Plates (set of 6) $2.39

Swan Princess Favor Box (set of 6) $3.77

Swan Thank You Stickers (40 count) $8.99

Swan Yard Signs (10 count) $39.99

Photos by Johnny Than

                       _______________________________________

BIRTHDAY ARCHIVES

3rd Birthday: Sundae Funday

2nd Birthday: Bubble Bash

1st Birthday: Garden Party (I managed to never share these... will have to post them once I catch up on parties for you all)

[dere-boys]

Pre-Written Dialogue Prompts

Here at dere-boys we love getting unique and interesting dialogue prompts to write for you. We know, however, sometimes you want something written but you just don’t have any ideas! Fear not! We’ve compiled a list of dialogue prompts that you can request to help you!

Really looking for Yandere Yoongi content?

Don’t worry, just inbox us with the number corresponding to the dialogue you want used, the idol, whether your Y/N is male or female, and if you’d like your piece to be NSFW or SFW.

It should look something like this => #31, yoongi, sfw, F

Once a line of dialogue has been used it’ll be crossed out.

For the list of dere-types and the idols we write for please check out this => Dere-Boy Line-Up

And if you’d like to look at the rules or the account overview and get to know the admins a bit please check us out on our welcome post => Account Overview & Admin Introductions

1. “I have a lot going for me, but humility is not one of them.”

2. “Is that seriously your password?

3. “I’m surprised you haven’t been arrested yet. Wait, no, I’m not.”

4. “So, you broke my favorite mug… and you’re breaking up with me?"

5. “Oh, good, you’re here! Hold this."

6. “Dude. We talked about this. Boundaries!"

7. “Now, don’t be mad, but…"

8. “Well, thanks to you, that’s another Taco Bell that’s banned us for life."

9. “So you know, I haven’t had my coffee yet. And your voice is putting me to sleep."

10. “Please tell me you didn’t eat that."

11. “What on earth happened in here?”

12. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

13. “No. Hell, no. Absolutely not.”

14. “Do you maybe think, in retrospect, that this was a terrible idea?”

15. “So hang on, let me get this straight.”

16. “I need nothing but my mad skills, rugged good looks, and maybe half a million dollars.”

17. “I made breakfast, but I didn’t know what you liked so I made enough to probably feed a small tribe.”

18. "So you've been living in denial all these years?"

19. “So that could have gone better…”

20. “Look, I’m not saying I’ll help if you buy me a donut, but I’m not, not saying I won’t help.”

21. “You don’t know what this means to me. You’re my first human subject, and we… are going to make history!”

22. “The worst part is you didn’t even notice.”

23. “I was doing so well until you showed up. Things were good…”

24. “At first, I thought it was part of the act.”

25. “Honey, please tell me. Did he hit you?”

26. “I don’t like that look. Wipe it off your face before I decide to.”

27. “How could you do this to me?”

28. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but… you need to know something.”

29. “You’re allowed to need help sometimes. And I know I haven’t been what you needed. But I’m here, and I wanna help.”

30. “You’re the worst. And you’re all I’ve got.”

31. “If I wanted to get better, I wouldn’t be dating you.”

32. “You think I don’t know you’re only here because he sent you?”

33. “No, I don’t hate you. We’re not there, yet.”

34. “It’s not that I don’t like my life. It’s that I don’t have the energy to enjoy it.”

35. “If you’re here to tell me what happened last night, someone beat you to it.”

36. “Do you know what today is?”

37. “You are remarkably well-behaved tonight. What have you been up to?”

38. “How – how did you find me?”

39. “There’s blood everywhere.”

40. “I don’t even hate you. That would imply I cared.”

41. “There’s no point running.”

42. “Stop yelling!”

43. “Believe me, my dear, no one regrets this more than I do.”

44. “I’m going to give you five seconds to take that back.”

45. “Apologise. Right now.”

46. “Good. I meant it to hurt.”

47. "Do you think keeping your eyes shut will keep you safe?"

48. "If you can't wake up from the nightmare, maybe you're not asleep."

49. “Smartass. I’d suggest biting your tongue before I rip it out.”

50. “Your mine. This- is mine, so don’t you dare think of someone else.”

51. “Is this how you flirt with everyone?”

52. “Waiiiiit, did you… do something different with your hair?”

53. “I’m not good with sarcasm. If you don’t like me, just say it.”

54. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t exactly blend in.”

55. “Now, before I say anything, promise me you’ll stay calm.”

56. “I don’t need a gentleman right now.”

57. “You’ve caught me at a really bad time.”

58. “What have you done now?”

59. “Well, this is new.”

60. “How are you feeling today? A little better, hmm?”

61. “Oh man, I’ve had the worst day ever.”

62. “This isn’t what it looks like, I swear! Okay … it’s kind of what it looks like, but just give me a chance to explain."

63. “That’s the first time I’ve heard anyone call it that.”

64. “Oh my gosh, are you sure? Like, sure sure?”

65. “I’ve never actually liked chocolate.”

66. “That’s a very … bold … thing to say.”

67. “And you can’t think of any other reason?”

68 .“Hey. Look at me.”

69. “I’m sorry. That sounds awful.”

70. “That’s not very nice.”

71. “Just sit around and cry, then. I don’t have that luxury.”

72. "How much of that did you hear?”

73. For what it’s worth, I don’t know much about you either.”

74. “Why do you have to look at me like that? It’s making me weak, please stop."

75. “I’m so lucky.”

76. “I’m asking because I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

77. “Stop doing that with your face, someone else is going to snatch you up.”

78. “I shouldn’t be allowed to be this happy.”

79. “Don’t pretend that you don’t feel the same way.”

80. “Don’t act innocent, you had me pinned underneath you 5 minutes ago.”

- Hope to see you here! - ❄️ & 🌻

Inbox Request Navigation and Welcome

[roro-mo]

Blessed

Sorry for such a late entry but I really wanted to participate for ZONAMI event. I've finally caught up with one piece and my love for ZONA came back like a drug withdrawal. I’ve been stalking the zonami tag and saw @zonamievents was holding an event. I really love this pair and really want to contribute again.

I haven't written anything in almost forever and the last fanfic I wrote for ZONA was a looooooonggg timeee ago (because I swear dressrosa arc lasted like 3 years). But I really want to continue giving love to this ship so here you go. You may find grammatical mistakes here and there so read with caution. I also rushed to post this sooooo .....anywaysss Enjoy! 

Disclaimer: I don't own one piece, if I did, this ship would've sailed already. 

Prompt Used: Fireplace

.............................….............................….............................….......................

She sat in front of the fireplace, warmth and love enveloping her. She was exactly where she dreamt to be.

The strawhat pirates were drifting through the ocean to their next destination, which appeared to be a winter island. The air was chilly, and snow started to build on the deck. For the first few days, one could see Luffy, Ussop and Chopper making snowman and playing in the snow; Ussop made a huge version of himself using snow, Chopper made another reindeer and Luffy ended up destroying them as his Merry laughter was heard throughout the ship. They played all kinds of snow games, they made snow angles, played snow fighting and even had a drawing competition on the snow. But after a few days, even the playful trio retreated inside, into the warmth of sunny.

To adopt the traditions of Christmas, Franky built a temporary fireplace in the kitchen and the crew worked together in decorating the kitchen and their Christmas tree together. The kitchen paralleled the snowy deck outside as it  was decorated with silver tinsels everywhere. They each hung one Christmas stocking on the fireplace mantle. Luffy was the most excited and he asked Sanji whether he would receive meat in his stocking. 

The crew decided to celebrate Christmas with a huge Christmas Eve feast, as can be expected from Luffy’s stomach, followed up by a secret Santa by the fire place and Christmas tree. Unfortunately, the feast turned out to be a banquet which lasted until the midnight, secret Santa long forgotten about. 

Soul king officially held a secret concert - unknown to his fans- in the sunny and his signature ‘yohoho’ laughter was contagious with Luffy, Ussop and Chopper joining in to imitate soul king.

Robin sat on an armchair near the fireplace, covering herself with a blanket to preserve heat. She was in the middle of reading her book but giggled when her captain jumped on the table and was trying to steal the soul king’s spotlight by screeching on the top of his lungs - which to him, bless his soul, he thought was singing.

Ussop was now laughing, rolling around the floor and Chopper went onto his party mode. He shoved two chopsticks up his nose and used a basket to dance from left to right, then right to left. Robin’s eyes followed the little reindeer and she giggled some more. 

Robin’s eyes then strayed from chopper to Franky who was moving his tushie back and forth, and his two robot hands collided to form a star. Her eyes stayed a little longer on his perky butt before turning to read her book once again.

For once, Sanji and Zoro were not seen arguing. Call it a Christmas Miracle or Nami’s clever planning. Sanji was drinking wine with Nami on the table and they were reminiscing about their adventure in whole cake island. They had already drank 3 bottles together talking about their adventures. The wine had little impact on Nami but Sanji was starting to see two Namis. He blinked to power through this rare occasion where Nami-Swan was gracing him with her presence. Nami was feeling nostalgic, she never dreamt of having another family outside of her village and so many adventures during her struggle with Arlong crew. Maybe it was the snow outside or the warmth emitting from the fireplace, she really wanted to share and treasure these moments where all of them were together. 

Nami shared how she really thought he was going to leave the crew during his fight with Luffy. Sanji told her how his brothers fell in love with her, “as if anyone won’t” he said with heart eyes whilst laughing and singing “mellorinnnee”. A scoff was heard from the fireplace but she dismissed it. 

She felt an eye on her back - watching her carefully as her hands lightly touched Sanji’s forearm on the table. A disapproval grunt was heard from the fireplace and she retracted her hand. She turned to face the owner of the voice and stuck her tongue out. She hated that his eye was always on her, leaving her little room to do anything mischievous without his knowledge. But she felt safe knowing he was always watching her, keeping her safe. It took her time to get used to her possessive lover but surprisingly, she was fond of his love language. She loved the way his eye hawked at her when she wore skimpy outfits; she loved the way his calloused hands felt on her skin, the way his fingers twirled with her hair as if it was the most precious thing in the world and the way his lip kissed her whole body. Despite the warm room, she shivered at the thought of his tongue trailing her curves once again and could not wait for them to have some alone time once they dock on the island they were heading towards. She shook her head to keep her indecent thoughts away. 

She then went on to tease Sanji about Pudding and how they almost got married. Sanji, with heart in his eyes, then got up to tell his goddess not to worry about the queen he met in whole cake island. He sang to Nami that he loves both of them equally and would marry Nami-swan instead - no scratch that- would marry both of them if he could. But all of a sudden the kitchen moved and he saw three Namis before falling on the floor from all the drinks they had. His body betrayed him, he wanted to stay just a little longer and continue chatting with Nami but he was now drunk and out for the night. 

Nami sighed, knowing she picked the wrong drinking partner. She turned around to look for her original drinking partner who took another swing from his mug. She got up, ignored the lifeless body and stepped over Sanji, who was lying on the floor face first. 

Barrels of drinks lay next to the swordsman, and a grin was plastered on his face. He was laying on the floor whilst resting his back on the sofa and watching the little sparks of fire burn the wood in front of him. 

Sounds of heels clicked against the floor as Nami made her way towards Zoro with another bottle of wine on her hand. She asked him “what’s with the grin?” And without turning, he stated, “You done with love cook?” 

She made a disapproving look as she sat with a thump next to him, in front of the fire place. She knew that statement wasn’t a question and he meant many things with that simple statement. One of them being she made the right decision to choose him over Twirly brows. She knew he was listening to their conversation, but she didn’t care anymore. At first, it irritated her when he was always listening to her conversations with other crew members, especially when she would talk to Sanji. But she eventually gave up because this was his way of protecting her.

She opened the bottle of her wine and said “you know he and I share memories that you and I don’t have.” She gulped down some wine straight from the bottle and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before saying “and we have secrets you and I don’t have!” 

All zoro did was chuckle as he gulped down some more sake. 

“We so do!” Nami whined, knowing he didn’t believe her. 

“Sanji brothers love me he says!” 

“Ohhh” he said with a grin. “What a surprise.”

“Looks like pervertism runs in their family.” 

“Is that even a word, idiot.” 

Nami received a shrug before he gulped some more sake. 

She missed this. She missed zoro and being in the same place with the whole crew. With so many battles and saving islands one after another, she was tired of saving others to be honest. She reminisced about her young 10 year old, who was saving the town and who never dreamt of being a pirate. But look at her now; navigator of a pirate ship, singing binks’ sake song and drinking till the morning. She smiled as she recalled all of her memories - the good and the bad. 

“What’s with the smile?” It was his turn to ask as he finally looked her way when she went silent for a while. 

She was blessed and she knew it. She was glad the 10 year old, the 12 year old and the eventful 18 year old who met Luffy and Zoro didn’t give up. She was glad she just didn’t end it, she was always close to losing it every time but her precious Bellemere-san didn’t raise her to be a quitter and Nami was thankful to the young her. 

“Hey” he said softly when she didn’t respond. 

Nami leaned on his shoulder and knew she was exactly where her young 10 year old dreamt her 20 year old to be. 

She then started to talk about what was on her mind and reminisced about the day they met. She explained that fate had connected her to Luffy and Zoro; how she didn’t believe they would come chasing her and how he almost drowned in front of her. 

She didn’t realise it but she clutched his yukata coat slightly harder at that memory. Her mind went to buggy and she giggled, earning her an eyebrow from the swordsman with whom she was laying on the floor with. 

“Is my death a joke to you?” He said seriously offended at the thought of Nami laughing when he almost drowned. But he didn’t really believe he would’ve died then. He couldn’t explain it but when it came to Nami, he was able to see through her, even when she was being an annoying little witch. He didn’t ever want to admit it but he let nami twist him in her little fingers, and did favours for her. Somewhere down the line, he left his guard down - maybe it was the day he jumped on the pool, risking his life or maybe it was the moment they met - but his trust and bond with her only grew stronger with time.

She laughed once more, which were drowned out by the violin Brook was still playing. She giggled and shook her head. Nami then described their blue haired acquaintance Buggy and Zoro made a disgusted face at the thought of Buggy. She giggled, shifting closer to the swordsman and said, “I’m thankful to Buggy because we met thanks to him.” 

They sat there, in front of the fireplace, as laughter died down one after another. Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper all fell asleep on the table; it was beyond their bed time and they all had one drink too many. The soft violin music eventually stopped but the navigator’s voice continued to be heard in the kitchen. She was still talking about their adventures they shared together while Zoro just drank some more, grunted here and there to say he was still listening to her. She continued to lean on him and rest her head on his shoulders as she spoke sweet nothings. 

Franky was eventually tired and decided to find a spot to fall asleep. He sat on the floor, next to the arm chair where Robin was still reading her book. He leaned his head on Robin’s legs and let slumber take him over. Robin smiled and draped the blanket she had over Franky to keep him warm. She was worried he would catch a cold because he’s always only wearing Speedos. She patted his head and went back to to her book.

In front of the fire, which was now beginning to fade. Zoro lifted his arm to wrap her and pull her closer to him. He ran his fingers through her hair, just the way she liked it, and used his fingers to brush his hair. He kissed the top of her head and whispered with a smile, “is there anything else I need to know about this secret you share with nose-bleed kun?” 

Nami smiled, resting her head on zoro chest. She listened to his steady breathing, his chest rising and falling with each breathe, lulling her to sleep. She had chosen the right person after all - she was content and in bliss. She sat in front of the fireplace, warmth and love enveloping her. She was exactly where she dreamt to be. 

Bonus: 

In the dawn of the morning, Jimbei climbed down from the crows nest and made his way to the kitchen. He wanted to wish everyone Merry Christmas and see if secret Santa actually happened after he left - though he doubted it. He had partied with Luffy at his request halfway though Christmas Eve but as the responsible pirate he was, he still wanted to take the watch to make sure they were safe on the sea. He opened the door and his mouth almost fell on the floor. 

Luffy was sleeping on the table while hugging Chopper for some heat. Ussop was on the floor and Brook fell asleep on a 90 degree angle in a corner of the room. Jembei realised Brook must’ve gotten stuck while showing his skill and fell asleep on the same spot. Robin and Franky were on the floor sharing a blanket. He could not find Sanji but would’ve found him on the same spot he fell if Jimbei walked a little further in. Zoro was sleeping on the floor as usual but what surprised him was Nami. She was next to him, resting her head and hand on his chest but he was sure they hated each other with all the bickering and arguing. Jimbei just shrugged it off, thinking it must be their weird way of communicating. His face paled as he though ‘Maybe that’s what turns them on!’

He really went ahead and joined a crazy crew. 

//////////

Hope you enjoyed the fanfic. Have a good day/evening/night! 

[snowdice]

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 24)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Janus, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy, Roman & Remus & Janus

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Janus, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Meanwhile, everyone else is trying to find a missing 15 year old, all with different pieces of the puzzle about where he is. It really is too bad that no one is answering their phones.

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned, explosions, car crashes (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 My Master Post

Logan had kept them in the meeting room for literal hours, pausing only to feed everyone except Patton and Virgil (who had actually eaten dinner). Eventually, he decided that he was satisfied with the explanations (Well, no, perhaps not satisfied, he was still very displeased with everyone except Virgil and maybe Emile, though Emile had not helped himself when he’d realized that he’d spoken both to Patton and Remus in the grocery store near Remy’s house early and he and Patton had proceeded to go off on a tangent about pasta.) and had taken them all to some of the hotel style rooms in the base.

The room Remy, Emile, Janus, and Virgil were in had two double beds. Virgil and Janus had claimed one of the beds already and were currently curled up together on it both asleep. Janus had apparently picked up Virgil’s stuffed spider from home and stuck it in his pocket. He had ordered Remy to dry the slightly damp toy with a hair dryer before consenting to laying down. The two of them had fallen asleep easily after their long days, the stuffed spider laying on the top of Janus’s chest and Virgil’s arm thrown around him loosely.

Emile had stayed up longer and taken a shower before emailing his receptionist asking her to cancel all of his appointments for tomorrow (or today as it was by now). He’d climbed into bed a couple of minutes ago, leaving Remy the only conscious one in the room.

Virgil stirred awake as Remy stood up from the chair he’d been sitting on and stepped towards the door. “Dad?” he asked.

Remy took a detour to stand by his bedside and stroke a few of the curls that were still damp from his shower away from his face. “Go back to sleep, kid.”

“Where’re you going?” he asked.

“Just gonna go grab some coffee,” he said.

“It’s night,” he pointed out.

Remy cracked a grin. “Yeah, well, you know me.” He tapped him on the nose. “I’ll be right in the mini kitchen outside.”

“Kay,” Virgil agreed, laying his head back on Janus’s chest. Janus never stirred, dead to the world in the way he only ever was when Virgil was snuggled up against him.

Remy closed the door quietly behind himself and wandered over towards the kitchen.

“Can’t sleep?” Patton asked when he stepped into the little area. The man was sitting at the small two-person table with a mug of what looked like tea and a box of Oreos.

“Having trouble chilling out,” Remy replied. “You know how it is.” Patton hummed in acknowledgement as Remy investigated the coffee maker.

“You know,” Patton said amused. “If your trying to calm down and sleep, coffee may not be the best solution.”

“Babe, do you know me at all?” Remy asked. Patton just shook his head.

“Besides,” Remy continued. “Who said I was planning on sleeping any time soon?”

“You should try to sleep,” Patton said, frown clear in his tone even though Remy was turned away, putting coffee grounds into the machine.

“Says the man already out here eating cookies at half past 1.”

“Touché.”

They were silent until Remy’s coffee was finished. Remy poured himself a cup and went to sit across from him. “Thanks for not shanking the little bastard on sight.”

Patton’s nose scrunched. “I should have known he was yours with that mouth of his,” Patton said, then he shook his head. “He’s a cute kid.”

“He held a knife to your neck.”

Patton shrugged. “It’s not the first time I befriended someone with a deadly weapon on me,” he said. He pushed the packet of Oreos over to him. “I hope you realize I’m filing for joint custody.”

Remy laughed. “I figured after I heard you spent over 3 hours in a car with him.”

“I’m going to teach him how not to curse and why falling asleep during a kidnapping is not ideal.”

“Well, Emile’s already tried his hardest on the first front, so good luck, and the boy likes to nap at inopportune times, what can I say?”

“Takes after his dad.”

“I am both insulted and flattered simultaneously.”

Patton giggled softly.

“But, seriously,” Remy said. “I do owe you for making sure Virgil was okay even if you didn’t know he was my spawn.”

Patton shrugged. “You don’t owe me anything.” He paused. “Well, you could buy me some cheese since I’d just bought a bunch to make mac and cheese, and it all went bad during the long car ride.”

Remy snorted. “Why do the lactose intolerant fear no god?” he asked. “But, sure, I’ll be happy to reimburse you and endorse your hedonistic ways.”

Patton smiled at him and finished off his tea.

 Despite his suggestion that Remy head to bed a few minutes before, he did not put his mug in the sink, but filled it back up with water and popped it into the microwave. Remy turned back to his coffee for a moment and immediately felt arms come around him. “Thanks for not being dead,” Patton said into his ear.

Remy chuckled and patted his arm. “You’re welcome Patty, but really what did everyone expect? I’ve got a couple of kids to raise still.”

Patton just hummed and kept hugging him until the microwave beeped. He grabbed his mug then and plopped another tea bag into it.

“So, not what you planned for your weekend, huh?” Remy asked.

Patton shook his head sitting back down. “I was going to make the mac and cheese and watch reruns of Parks and Rec,” he said wistfully. Then he grinned. “I probably would have still been awake at this hour anyway.”

“Oh, Pat. How many times have you watched that show?”

Patton just smiled at him, eyes sparkling. “We really should try to get some sleep,” Patton said.

“Yeah, well, Emmy snores.”

“And Lo kicks,” Patton said, “when he’s not trying to crush me. Not that trying to sleep in the same bed as one of the twins is any better.”

Remy snorted. “Didn’t take Logan for a cuddling type.”

“Oh, he always tries to deny it, but he’s a big softie.”

“Explains why I’m not dead all over again.”

“Hmmm,” Patton agreed. Then he grinned. “I have the Netflix app on my phone,” he divulged.

“…We’re starting with season 3.”

“Of course,” Patton agreed, pulling out his phone.

They got yelled at in the morning by Logan for falling asleep at the table.

The end! Except for the epilogue.

[chimaeracabra]

I am having some trouble focusing right now. I wanna do this assignment that is due next Tuesday so I can ask my professor questions about it during class tomorrow. I feel sad about my loved ones. Neither of my sisters are happy, and Nick is struggling. He called me almost three hours ago. It was the first I've heard from him since he went into the ED on Monday night. He sounded really out of it. He is somewhere safer than where I worked when I was in psychiatric care, which I'm glad for. He also said they let you keep your cell phone on the unit where he is. He told me that today he had images of skinning himself. I can't imagine what it's like to have these constant and sudden malevolent thoughts of self-harm 24/7. I wish he had never had TBI as a teen (he was mugged twice). Perhaps he wouldn't be having this problem now. He told me he saw the psychiatrist for the first time today and they recommended therapy. He has expressed before that he doesn't like therapy and doesn't really want to do it, unless it's CBT or DBT (he recently bought a bunch of psych books and a book about healthy coping skills. I wish he had brought that one with him to the hospital). I think he is preventing himself from even having a chance of improvement with his automatic negative thoughts. So, I hope when he gets out of the hospital, he will actually do therapy and stick with it. A few weeks ago, I felt like something bad was going to happen. I knew it was just a matter of time...

I have been having insomnia for a few days now. Probably because I am just worried about Nick and I'm worried about my twin. Fitbit says I slept for 4 hours and 54 minutes last night. And that was with Benadryl. Maybe tonight I will take Benadryl and my trazodone. I don't really like trazodone too much. I think it increases my chances of having an episode of sleep paralysis, which I really don't enjoy. But I seriously think some of the reason I constantly have so much foot pain is because I don't sleep at a normal hour, or long enough for my body to experience restorative sleep.

I woke up around 8:40AM today and was going to go straight to the gym but felt like crap, so I went back to sleep until 10:46AM. I would love to be on a schedule where I am asleep no later than 12:30AM and waking up around 8:30AM. I have been needing to reset my biological clock basically since I was in high school. Some days it is far worse. For a while, 2AM was my regular bedtime, but I am finding myself awake at 4:30AM, sometimes longer than that. Tuesday, I logged 3 hours and 44 minutes of sleep from 2:02-10:22am. Fuck all.

This morning, the gynecologist who inserted my first IUD back in January called me back about the ultrasound I had on Friday. Apparently, I have a 0.9cm polyp in my uterus that the IUD may be rubbing against. And she said that probably explains the breakthrough bleeding I sometimes have. I am annoyed as FUCK about it, because now I have to go in for her to take out my second IUD and biopsy the friggen polyp to try and remove it all. And if she can't get it all blind in the office with me on painkillers, I might require surgery. I'm a little worried, but she said she does not think it's cancerous. She also said my IUD is tilted somewhat diagonally, so I should use condoms until we can sort this shit out.

I'll be really upset if I can't use this form of birth control. If the copper IUD is in the right place, it's at least 99% effective. Nick and I can't stand how expensive our favorite condoms are (I cannot fuckin' do latex because it burns me), and I was looking forward to never having to worry about condoms.

The only thing I have done today that has made me happy so far was work out. I finally got back in my gym. Now that I'm a few weeks out from full vaccination, I feel a little less worried about contracting COVID-19. I only ran for about 23 minutes. First I did weights. I did the pull-down machine I like. I was pleasantly surprised to see that I can still pull down more than half my weight. I have been doing at-home strength training 3-5 days a week with all my dumb bells. I want to get my middle skinnier again, like it was about 3-4 years ago when I was running a shit ton. But I also don't want to lose my ass. I really see and feel how I have put muscle mass onto my butt, hips, and legs in general. I did my ankle weights after I came home.

I need to try and do at least some work. Then I want to write a story and I will try to have Benadryl and traz tonight and sleep before it's 2AM.

My mom is going on a date on the weekend, and I will finally be able to join her to go to NH to look at a place for my twin to stay during her residency. I also plan to make a batch of basil soap so I can send more to my mentor and my friends. Which reminds me, my dear friend Rueben is getting married soon. I got the formal invitation in the mail today. I was there when he met his fiancée (Rue and I were at the Museum of Fine Arts for an event, just trying to be social, and they struck up a conversation). I'm genuinely happy for him. We don't talk much these days, but he has been such a good friend to me over the past 7 or so years.

I hold the people I care about in such high esteem, and close to my heart. I just want everyone I love to be happy. The past 6 months with Nick have been some of the absolute happiest of my life so far. I hope that things can just keep getting better from here on out...

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader- “The Work Wife” Part 6

You’ve been working for The Joker for the past 10 years: you speak and act for him and no matter the circumstances, Y/N is always there to take care of everything he needs.  The King of Gotham might not be married, yet he has a perfect partner: his work wife.

Starts HERE

After 1 Month

The Joker circles the warehouse, inspecting the boxes and crates full of ammo and smuggled goods received with last night’s shipment.

“Hmm…” he eyeballs a decorative vase engraved with gold and silver, wondering if the extravagant object should become part of his collection at The Penthouse. His cell start vibrating and J takes it out of pocket, impatient to hear about his wife’s routine checkup:

“ ‘ello,” he kicks two packages out of the way.

“Hi,” you greet your spouse. “Just got out of my appointment; the doctor said all seems fine. He ordered some lab tests to make sure my blood levels are within the normal range; I should get the results in about 3 days.”

“That’s awesome!” he grumbles while bending over to grab some papers scattered on the floor. “I’m glad you’re ok, I should have come also for moral support.”

Y/N smiles at the confession, choosing not to disclose it makes her happy:

“You have to sort out the cargo; the buyer will be there shortly.”

“Yeah, but this could have waited.”

Your smile gets wider as J fumbles around with several items. 

“Tell you what: I’ll finish up some stuff here and I’ll drive to pitch in.”

The King of Gotham wouldn’t normally decline yet he’s actually worried after everything that happened.

“Nope, I want you to rest; you’ve been too active lately and you need to slow down. Why are you giggling?” he smacks his lips, displeased four trunks look like they’ve been tampered with.

“Nothing in particular,” the bubbly Y/N keeps the best for last.

“I’ll see you home; I found something I don’t like,” The Joker grunts as the heavy lid is lifted from one of the containers. “Stay put and relax!” he orders and you nonchalantly drop the bomb:

“Maybe I will,” and after a small pause: “Oh! By the way, I was given green light for sex.”

“ ‘kay, see you in a couple of hours,” J struggles with the box and waits for your long “Byeeeeee” before hanging up. A few seconds into his task and it hits.

“Holy shit!” he exhales and holds his breath, startled. “Jesus!!” he abandons the precious merchandise, running towards the exit. “Froooossst!!!” he gets his henchman’s assistance. “Take over!!”

“Yes sir!” Jonny emerges from one of the SUV’s parked inside, not understanding why his boss is in a hurry. “Anything wrong?”

“No!!! I have a personal emergency!!” The Joker shouts and pushes the heavy metal door to the side, wishing he was already at his destination.

*************

J enters the code on the pin pad and he is granted access into your apartment. He went to The Penthouse first: you weren’t there and he figured you must be on the 29th floor. He storms inside and rushes towards the bedroom when his enthusiasm is abruptly halted by no other than Jonathan Crane coming out of the kitchen.

Scarecrow almost drops the fresh coffee mug you brewed for him; The Clown Prince of Crime was certainly not informed you had company. Doesn’t matter though, he’s not one to be embarrassed by his current situation:

“May I help you Crane?” a high and mighty J sassily blurs out wearing nothing but his birthday suit.

“I doubt it,” Jonathan is quick to respond. “I dropped by to bring you extra ampules of Liquid Dream like you wanted and pain killers refill for Y/N in case she needs more.”

You suddenly pop up from behind Scarecrow, not being able to stop the question:

“Why are you naked?!”

The Joker opens his mouth because he has a cool explanation, yet the guest doesn’t care about it.

“I think I should bail,” he smirks as he passed by J. “I’m taking the cup, I’ll bring it back next time,” he announces and can’t contain a smartass remark: “Nice attire.”

Your husband bitterly growls and as always, you have to be the catalyst for a better outcome:

“Thank you, Jonathan!”

Scarecrow waves without adding extra comments, 100% positive you’ll burst out laughing as soon as he vacates the premises.  

And he’s correct.

“Oh my God,” you snicker since you didn’t expect such a funny coincidence to unfold within today’s schedule. “That was hilarious!” the amused Y/N finds herself in The Joker’s arms moments after Jonathan’s departure. “Where are your clothes?!” you kiss him and he yanks at your waist, purring.

“The jacket and shirt in the car, pants and boxers in the elevator,” he admits while guiding you towards the couch in the living room. “The socks and shoes are somewhere on the hallway.”

“I was wondering when you’ll realize about the news I shared,” you whisper in his ear as he takes off your summer dress, aroused.

The two bodies plunge on the sofa, Y/N enjoying the intimacy as much as he does:

“J… … J…” you cling to him when his left hand slips in your bikini.

“Mmm? Does something hurt?” The Joker pecks the tip of your nose, ready to quit if you say yes.

“No… it’s not that,” the seriousness in your voice makes him pay attention.

Maybe you shouldn’t bring up the past in these circumstances; here it comes anyway:

“If the Las Vegas events repeat themselves… I won’t forgive you again,” you stare in his eyes without blinking. “I won’t return… ”

The Joker is silent and you wonder what’s going on in his mind; it’s not a secret he was miserable after being abandoned in the City of Lights due to his despicable conduct.

“They won’t.”

“Are you sure?” the doubt in your tone forces him to reveal:

“I’m sure because it felt horrible when you weren’t around.”

You caress J’s hair and remind him you won’t compromise for less than his total commitment:

“You’re either mine or you’re not, ok?...”

“I’m yours,” he grumbles and it’s not very difficult since the woman asking is no casual fling but the only one he ever wanted to marry for reals. “I want the special treatment,” the immediate request makes you snort: it’s so like him to articulate crap like this in the middle of a serious discussion. 

“Do you?!”

“Yes!!” The Joker nibbles on your neck and underlines his affliction: “I’ve been so horny I’m not sure how I still function; I behaved though, I swear!” he’s fast to emphasize while pulling on your bra strap. “You know why?” J throws the question out there, aware the statement will please his wife. “I tolerate you… even if you’ve been nagging me for almost 12 years.”

“Careful,” you admonish. “Uttering such words makes you sound like you’re in love.”

“God forbids! You think so?!” the painful grimace on his face prompts more teasing from your part:

“Yeap, no cure for this terrible disease.”

Your bra ends up on the floor and he’s not content with the epilogue.

“I’m screwed then.”

“Noooot yet,” you wink and his purring intensifies when your teeth sink into his shoulder. “We’re getting there.”

************

Same morning, 11:47am

“There you are!” J exclaims discovering you on the terrace. “You disappeared on me Y/N: I thought you said we’ll have lunch,” the hyper spouse recalls. “What’s wrong?” he frowns seeing you wiping your tears and doesn’t stress the lack of an answer when he notices the ultrasound picture. The Joker quietly sits by you on the swing, kissing your scared cheek in the process. “You ok?”

“U-hum,” you nod. “I wish I didn’t have the miscarriage, you know?...” your bottom lip quivers while placing the image in your robe’s pocket. “I really wanted a baby…”

“My poor old girl…” he sighs and doesn’t expect you to agree.

“I am old!” you keep sobbing and he squeezes you closer to him. “It was probably my last chance to have a child and I blew it!”

The King of Gotham sucks at cheering; he attempts nevertheless:

“Mmmm… You’re supposed to say you’re not old and then I reply that you are old for my standards, which should prompt you to fight back and highlight my standards are crap. Am I to carry on these sort of conversations meant for two by myself now?!” he huffs. “People will think I’m crazy!”

You snort at his monologue and it’s the perfect opportunity to make it clear your opinion is unchanged:

“Your standards are crap!”

“There you are,” the delighted Joker reckons. “I got nervous for a moment,” he chuckles and you elbow him, smiling through tears. “What about we eat something and then we can plan our location for the honeymoon we didn’t get to enjoy?”

J’s plan is working: the little surprise proposition is distracting Y/N and she carefully weighs in his sentences.

“Would you like to elope?” he pushes for a decision and you play with your wedding ring, mumbling:

“I don’t wanna go to Vegas.”

“No Vegas!” he’s fast to consent. “Where to then?”

“Well…” you sniffle, “…what about Reno? We could stay at Solaris Casino; Mark Nessi would accommodate us.”

“He would. If we pack and leave, we can make it there by 7:30-ish pm.”

“You want to leave today?! What about your meetings? You actually have one tomorrow.”

“Meh, Frost can postpone them,” The Joker dismisses your concerns. “I vote we bail and have fun, hm?” he lifts your chin up. “Let’s get the hell out of here, yes?” the impatient Clown wiggles next to you.

“OK…” Y/N elects to grant his plea because escaping town couldn’t have a better timing: it will be nice to spend time together and try to get over the disappointment of his past mistake.

**************

Reno, 8:42pm

You and The Joker are strolling towards the gambling area, excited to have made it here an hour ago. The traffic wasn’t bad and you took turns driving, that’s why you had dinner first and then changed clothes in order to enjoy the night properly.

“I liked the lobster,” you pull at his arm since he’s distrait. “How was your stake?” you seek to chat when he suddenly opens the door to one of the storage closets and shoves you inside. You get trapped against the wall as J claims his special request for the evening.

“I want the special treatment,” he growls and you smirk.

“You didn’t do anything to earn it! This morning I made an exception because it’s been weeks since we had sex. Don’t let my lenience trick you!”

“Don’t nag me!” J cuts you off. “This backless red dress of yours is doing things to me so I want the special treatment,” he slides his arms around your waist.

“Surrounded by shampoo bottles and toilet paper?!”

“It’s quite sexy,” The Joker grins and you compromise a tiny bit:

“I’ll only do the first part! That’s it! I want to go and play poker.”

His face comes close to yours and you start kissing every inch of it, ogling the door instead of paying attention to him.

“You’re not doing it right!” your husband complains. “You’re supposed to look at me!”

You switch your concentration and keep staring in his eyes, abandoning the project when you consider it done.  

“Where are you going?” J stops your movement. “Thanks to you I can’t walk now,” he lifts up your short dress and you dodge his touch, opening the door in order to escape.

“Of course you can! Come on, stop sulking,” you drag him out and he follows, bickering at your indifference.

“You’re mean!” The Joker admonishes and you intertwine his fingers with yours, guiding him in the direction of the VIP room.  

“No, I’m not,” you defend your actions. “I’ve been around you for so many years that those blue eyes and long lashes don’t have any powers over me,” Y/N teases. “I’m immune.”

“Bullshit!” he mutters and you steal a kiss, inviting him to enter the poker room.

“Do you want to sit by the bar?” you point and J doesn’t oppose the choice. “I’m getting a cocktail. Grape juice?”

“No,” he pouts and makes himself comfortable while you fetch your drink.

“Hello Mister Joker,” one of the dolled-up girls swiftly pops up at the table. “I didn’t see you in forever!”

“I’ve been busy,” he avoids the subject and barks when she tries to collapse on the chair next to his. “This seat’s taken!”

“Oh,” she straightens her back. “By whom?!” the envious Ella inquires.

Did another girl get to him first?! It’s common knowledge he’s generous with his flings and she can’t believe another will cash in the benefits.

“My wife,” he taps his fingers on the table, annoyed the interrogation continues.

“You got married Mister Joker?!” the woman doesn’t hide her astonishment: it’s not that his nuptials were broadcasted on the news. Plus… he’s a very weird man, totally not husband material.

“A few months ago,” he sneers and she’s not smart enough to take the hint.

“Who did you marry Mister Joker?” she giggles, more and more convinced he’s bluffing: The King of Gotham is probably messing around to make her jealous.

“My best friend and main nagger,” J bitterly mentions. “Isn’t this what people do? Marry their best friends?”

“You almost got me Mister Joker,” she laughs at his strange acknowledgement, reassured he’s messing with her: an individual like him would pronounce such nonsense only to initiate flirting.

“Excuse me!” you bump into her on purpose, aware why she’s there. “I got you grape juice on ice,” you place the glass in front of your spouse and he opens his mouth in amazement.

“I was literally about to order this! How did you know I changed my mind?!”

“Best friends know,” you bend to kiss him and J pouts, annoyed you overheard his childish affirmation.

“You have such a cool tattoo on your back!” Ella exclaims. “Is that Japanese?”

Y/N turns in her chair, confused to notice the lady is still standing behind them.

“Yes.”

“What does it say?”

You take a deep breath, fed up by her unwanted presence.

“It says that if you don’t get lost, I’ll make sure your body is never found again! And if it’s eventually found, it surely won’t be identifiable!!”

You reprise your position at the poker table, patiently waiting for the dealer to finish handing out the cards.

“I’m so hot and bothered,” J brushes his lips on yours. “Your attitude begs for my undivided eagerness to peel you out of this dress,” he lustfully glares at your cleavage.“What do you say we leave and have a party on our own? We can play strip poker in the honeymoon suite.”

“We just got here minutes ago,” you fix a rebel strand of hair then whisper: “Table seven, white shirt guy.”

“Do you ever take vacations?” The Joker grinds his teeth, nonchalantly gazing at your suspicious target.

“I like to mix business with pleasure,” you wink and accidentally spill a little bit of your cocktail on his pants. “Oops, pardon me; I assume you have to come with me if you need help stepping out of your wet garment.”

“As that old Arkham report specifies: I need all the help I can get,” The Clown reveals to an amused Y/N, excited she’s receptive to his innuendos.

**************

You emerge from the walk-in closet in your skimpy purple lace attire and The Joker gasps, enticed at the view.

“Oh my God! Com’ere!” he gestures for your company and you crawl in bed, pushing aside the items scattered on the sheets:

“What’s with the shampoo bottles and toilet paper rolls?!”

“I’m attempting to recreate the seductive atmosphere in the storage room, maybe it can convince you to continue the special treatment.”

“You don’t give up, do you?” you scoff and straddle his lap, conflicted if you should grant his wish.

“I usually don’t… Are you gonna help like you promised and take off my pants?” J gropes you and the knock at the door interrupts your answer.

“Room service!”

“Did you order from the menu?” you ask and your husband purrs:

“More champagne.”

“Maybe our new friend has arrived,” you wink, hopping out of bed.

“Why don’t we find out?” The Joker spanks your butt as you cover your body with the bathrobe.

Y/N grabs the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and hides around the corner while he shouts:

“Come in!”

The waiter pushes in the rolling cart in the middle of the lobby, greeting his grouchy customer:

“Hi Mister Joker, would you like one bottle or two?”

“One!”

You creep beyond him and smash the glass against his skull; the man falls on his knees and you take advantage of his dizziness to switch him face up: it is the guy from table seven!

“Who send you?” you ferociously punch him and he struggles to escape when The King’s gun ends up one inch away from his temple. “Who send you?” Y/N shrieks and she’s so absorbed into her job she can’t discern the mesmerized Joker staring at her. It’s not that he didn’t see you in action before, but it finally clicked:

It sure pays off being married to your work wife!

Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: Diyunho.

[who-is-reign]

Hello, hi, hey

Hi I did a short writing thing- here it is!!

Everything starts with a hello, a hi, a hey. A greeting of some kind. Ours started with something else. It started with a trip, a lot of apologies, and crying. Though I feel like I should probably start at the beginning. That makes more sense anyway.

It all started on what I knew was not going to be a normal day. The day started with two pieces of toast, 3 slices of peaches, and a mug of earl grey tea. Or what I was hoping to be a mug of earl grey tea. I poured the rest of what was left of my mug into a thermos and walked out the door. 

3 stairs, take a left, 5 steps forward to the next stairwell. 10 steps down, 5 breathes, 2 stops I could have taken, 7 doors I could see. I ran to my car, even if it was only 5 feet away. 

30 minutes and a coffee stop later, I was at work. I work at a publishing firm as the executive editor. I have been there since the start of this company, Indigo Query. I helped with the name of course. Most of the books that I edited are Best Sellers right now. I can’t say I’m not proud of that. 

Today is the release date of the first book I wrote. I have babied this book for 4 years. All of the characters are complex and have their own stories. I tried to make it to where there weren’t any background characters. To where there were stories going on behind the scenes, or the main focus of the chapter. It is 1563 pages, 12 pt. Times New Roman font, 468900 words. This book is my literal child. I have had these characters since I was in 6th grade. I only started seriously writing out their story in the last 4 years. 

I just realized that you know nothing about me. Maybe that’s for the best. You’ll find out later anyway.

I walked in, went through the cafe, up the elevator, through the small library. I was there, and my book was there. On my desk, I saw a hardcover copy of my book. I almost started crying. Okay, I did start crying. That art was my choice, it was made by one of my oldest friends. I carefully picked up the book, letting my hands run over the almost woven texture of the cover, the embellished sides, and the title. Lastly, my name, small in white coloring. I turned to the copyright page and breathed in. My name is listed as the author and editor. My best friend’s listed as the cover artist. This is what I was meant to do. Write books, edit books, publish books.

I put the book down, I couldn’t read it. Not yet. I needed to meet with Leo Adams, president of the company. He is not the original president, he took over after the old president passed. I personally am not a fan of his. I think he is corrupt and doesn’t deserve the company. The only thing I can hope is that one day this company, my home, will get a better president. The only reason I stayed with this company, is because of my book. I could leave if I wanted to, other publishing companies have asked if I wanted to sign for them. 

But I have something in my eyes, something I can’t give up. I want to own Indigo Query. I want to own the thing I love more than anything. This company is my life, my livelihood. I hate seeing a man who doesn’t care about books be in charge of it. I need to save the company I have over a decade of time into. But right now, it is my time. My book is getting released.

I need to focus on that and nothing else. I need to work, that’s what I need to do. What I want doesn’t matter right now, and it won’t matter for a while. 

I walked as fast as a caffeinated lesbian could without it being considered running to Leo’s office. 

“Ms. Kore, it’s fantastic to see you. And of course congrats on the book release, it looks fantastic already.” Leo’s words drawled on, a slight curve to his phrases. I hated it.

“Of course sir, I couldn’t have had this book released without you,” I replied, trying desperately to keep the ill intent out of my voice. 

What I didn’t say, was that of course, I couldn’t have had this book released without you. Even with you, there were so many issues with getting it released. Including the date getting pushed back 6 months. I could have had this book out, and sold by now. But no, he said it was too problematic. It took all of the editors, our cover designers, the VP of the company, and basically everyone to get him to allow it to be sold. 

“Though Ms. Kore, I must tell you, I really do not think this book will thrive that much. I just do not want to see you getting hurt. Take the day off, you need to.” I almost scoffed once he said that, but I really only muttered thank you and walked out of the office.

I practically ran to one of my coworker’s desks and sighed completely and utterly overdramatically. This coworker has been my friend since high school and they helped found the company. They also know about my aspiration to own  Indigo Query.

“Oliver, I can’t believe him. He literally said that he didn’t think my book would work out and that he just didn’t want me to get hurt.” I groaned and tried to not sound whiny, though I know I did.

“Babe, that is so horrid but also you are so close to literally owning this company. You are so close, and you can’t lose sight of what you have done because our boss is horrible.” I know they’re right, and I am really close, but I need a break. 

“I’m leaving for the day, Adams said I had to.” I sighed.

“Girl you have been here for less than an hour, sit down.” Oliver raised their eyebrows and practically forced me to sit at my desk.

I just rolled my eyes and got to work on a new manuscript that came in today. It wasn’t long before my eyes felt like they were going to burst from my head. 

“I’m taking a coffee and tea run. Want anything?” I closed the manuscript, my question aimed for Oliver who was holding a red pen and had a red pen tied up in their hair.

“Yes, yes, and yes please darling. You know my order anywhere.” And they were right, their order hasn’t changed since freshman year. Unlike everything else. Oliver used to be really shy, with red curly hair, they didn’t have confidence. And now they talk or flirt with everyone, have longer sunset ombre hair, and have more confidence. I’m proud of them.

I walked out of the building and to the nearest cafe. I ordered Oliver’s, which was a matcha latte with added raspberry syrup, apparently, it was amazing. Then I got a London fog earl grey tea with extra vanilla syrup.

 I noticed the cafe had a small bookstore and I walked over there after ordering. I saw something that warmed my heart, my book. I inhaled deeply in shock, already a small bookstore had my book in it. I grabbed a copy and read through some of it. My words, my characters, my world. I get now why it is such a big deal for Oliver every time they see a book they wrote. I only walked away when I heard my name getting called. I grabbed both of the cups and walked away, saying thank you many times.

Close to the door, the not so impossible happened. Someone ran into me, my tea spilled everywhere. Oliver’s drink ended up being safe somehow. 

“I am so sorry, I can’t believe myself, I’m so sorry. Deeply sorry. Let me help.” The person who ran into me sputtered out.

“Don’t be sorry it was an accident, it is okay,” I say looking at them softly.

They had hair a little bit longer than their shoulders, it was a coppery red. Their eyes were a shade of amber. That was when I realized. 

“Laurette?” I asked, stunned that this may be her.

“Yeah? Do I know-- Persephone!” Laurette hugged me and sighed. “It’s fantastic to see you!”

“Good to see you too. What are you doing these days?” 

“Oh! I’m living with Ophelia with our kid. I’m a fashion designer and she is a daycare owner. So she gets her share of kids every day. What about you?” as Ophelia spoke I could practically feel her love for her wife. 

“That is fantastic! I’m the chief editor and now an author for a publishing company called Indigo Query. My first book got released today actually. I work with Oliver Evanora.” I was filled to the brim with pride. 

“Really? Congrats! I bet the book is amazing! I’ll have to check it out sometime. Tell Oliver I said hi. ” Laurette sighed happily, “Well, it’s been great seeing you, I’m so sorry about the tea. I hope to bump into each other again.” 

I smiled and went back up to the counter to grab the tea they remade, gave them a 10 dollar tip, and left. A newfound pleasure seeped through me. I walked back to the office, careful not to spill anything. I gave Oliver their drink and went straight back to work.

4 hours later and the clock showed 5 pm, the day that I had been waiting for years to happen was over. Since I needed desperately to get home, I made Oliver give me a ride home.

“Why didn’t you drive to work? You have a car.” Oliver asked when they were in their car.

“Because I wanted to walk.” 

“It’s winter, it is dark at like 4. You can’t walk home when it’s dark. We live in a city, girl.”

I just sighed, they were right anyway. I didn’t think it through.

“Want to get food?” They asked, “Cause I am starving!”

“Nah, I’ve got to get home.”

“Ok girl, whatever you deem useful,” Oliver said, already pulling down my street.

“Thank you so much! Oh and by the way Laurette said hi.” I said as I shut the door.

  I went inside and set water on to boil. I started stirring the water clockwise and humming a distant melody. It was almost time. The water started to bubble like an ancient potion that had just been given the final ingredient. I poured the water over a mug, grabbed a tea bag, and let it seep. At this point, the stars were already out and thriving. 

After a quick 5 minutes, I grabbed my mug and walked outside into my backyard. I went directly to my shed. My shed was more of my office than a shed. It had a typewriter, my laptop, a shelf filled with different types of teas or coffee. Plants were scattered about, my desk had a big fluffy white chair pushed up to it. Everything was a pastel blue, pink, or white. It didn’t really seem like it was mine, but it was. And it’s more of a home to me than my room is. 

I sighed as I sat down on my mug, put on gardening gloves, and grabbed my spade. I went outside and started to get to work. I planted a new rose bush, I replanted my lemon tree that's growing out of their pot. I moved my ever-growing cherry tree to where they’ll get better sun. 

All of this I did while humming, or singing in some parts. I am the type of person to sing and talk to my plants. I am also the type of person to own 3 trees and more plants than I can count.

I heard a bang and I flinched, my entire body froze in place, as if any movement would cost me my life.

“Is anyone there?” I whispered, barely to where anyone could hear it.

“Hello, darling” When I heard Oliver’s voice I calmed down, “sorry to scare you babe, but you seem stressed. Thought I’d help.”

“It’s okay, Oli.” I sighed, already putting my spade and gloves away. “So, how did you plan to calm me down?”

“Stargazing with some people from high school,” Oliver replied, smiling.

“Like who?”

“Kira, Raven, Laurette, Ophelia, Lilith--” Oliver was about to continue but I cut them off.

“Okay, I get it, almost everyone. Let’s go.” I said, laughing, “Let me change first.”

Five minutes later I was in Oliver’s car wearing a star printed black layered lace dress and 4-inch heeled black boots.

“Let’s go! I wonder if they all brought their kids! Oh, I can’t wait to see Sabrina or even Litha! I miss my coven friends.” Oliver used to be in a coven at school, it broke up after our senior year.

“Where is the place we’re going anyway?” I asked, playing with my acrylics. 

“It’s only 30 minutes away, a small little cabin. Though, we are staying for a week. I took all the clothes that are yours at my house, it’s enough for 7 days. Plus they all look great.” 

“What about work?!”My yells could probably be heard by our high school friends.

“I got it covered babe, don’t worry,” Oliver said in a sing-song tone. 

“Got it covered? Um, no. My book just got released, I need to be in town.”

“Honey, your book is already almost sold out at 3 stores. I only bought one copy. Your child will be fine.” Oliver sighed as he looked at me, “You need this. More than any of us do. So, I dragged you into the countryside to look at stars and hang out with people from our high school. Don’t you want to see everyone’s kids? I’m pretty sure Ophelia and Laurette are bringing theirs.”

“Okay, fine. I do need this, don’t I?” I pulled out my phone and breathed in.

‘I need this, I need a break. 7 days hanging out with old friends will give that to me.’ I thought as I mindlessly scrolled through twitter.

Then I came across this,

‘Jdjisddsj this book came out today! I already love it! #ScarletDreams #Persephonekore’

“Holy bees, Scarlet Dreams is trending in the literature section on twitter.”

“That’s fantastic, but we’re here.” I looked up and saw a cottage with wildflowers surrounding it, two beehives sitting among the flowers, a few kids running through fields. 

We parked next to where a collection of other cars were. Immediately I was pulled into a hug by Ophelia and Laurette.  

“I missed you!” Ophelia exclaimed as she pulled away, her child pulling at her sleeve.

“I missed you guys too, it’s fantastic to see you.” 

Oliver looked at me, then to everyone and said: “Was I right? Did you need this?”.

I could practically see his fear of him making a mistake, a dark sludge crawling through him, pulling him down and towards his own Tartarus. 

“Yeah Oli, I really did. Work was starting to hurt a little.”

A group of three people left the cabin, they were all holding hands and walking right next to each other.

“Oh, hello. I’m Cassandra. I don’t remember you from high school” She said her last sentence more like an inviting question than a statement.

“Hi, I’m Persephone, I didn’t really talk to many people other than who I knew so I can’t expect you to remember me.” I ended my statement with a small laugh, trying to match her tranquillity.

“Babe, you said there wouldn’t be that many people” The person who spoke was as far behind Cassandra and they could be while still holding her hand.

“I wanted you to come, plus I didn’t that many people would show up, darling.” Cassandra's voice was somehow softer than it was before, it seemed as soft as flower petals blooming out to show a beautiful rose. 

Or rather the sun urging a rose to show it’s own beauty. Cassandra’s red hair had so much volume it seemed to live on its own, like a red fox laid over her shoulder. She was wearing a vintage lace dress that was white with roses on it, you could tell a petticoat was hiding beneath the layers of the dress from how it poofed out. Her cheeks were a rosy red, and her eyes had pink eyeshadow flowing out from them. Her eyeliner wings were sharp enough to stab, and honestly, I wanted her to stab me with them.

As soon as I realized what I was thinking I felt guilty, though I wasn’t sure why.

A voice snapped me out of my thoughts, “Hi, I’m Jade!” said the other person next to Cassandra.

Her hair was a really big fluffy black braid, purple threaded itself through the braid, and blue and green followed. The braid went to her lower back and was tied with what I thought was a gold string. A black mini dress hugged her sides. A light pink fluffy jacket was partially zipped and fell off her shoulders.  The dress went to her lower thighs, then a few inches down my eyes trailed down to her light pink knee-high boots. 

“Take a picture and it will last longer darling,” Jade said, the tone of her voice playful yet held enough flirtiness to send shivers up my spine and turn my face red. 

“Darling, let's not immediately start to flirt with the new girl. Let’s not kill her on the first day here.” Cassandra spoke, her tone matching Jade’s.

The one who has stayed behind Cassandra the entire time stepped forward, appearing to gain confidence from my embarrassment. 

“Why not? She may hold up longer than I did.” They said, their voice was soft yet firm. It held together like a cactus in heavy wind, trying to keep its grip. I felt like that’s the type of person they were, a cactus. Harsh on the outside with spikes and a few flowers to lure you in, but held water and healing on the inside.

I knew my face was painted a shade that countered everything around me and the dress that now seemed to hug me instead of flow around me. Like the petals of a tulip instead of an orchid. My heart sped up and I felt frail, yet held stable by these people who I had only met what seemed hours ago but what I knew was minutes, or even seconds that had just been drawn out to a century. 

Then coughing erupted into my thoughts as Oliver shimmed their way in between me and the group, “Let’s go inside, I need warmth.”

“It’s not even cold” I sighed.

“Whatever,” They said as they already started towards the cottage.

As soon as people realized that Oliver had started to walk away, people hurried to follow them. That was Oliver for ya, they could sure direct a crowd.

[somefantasticplace]

THE MIRROR INTERVIEW

Bob Mortimer, the shorter half of Reeves & Mortimer, has made a fortune out of being daft. He and Jim Moir, Vic Reeves' alter ego, have become famous for making clever and surrealist comedy that looks very similar to two blokes whacking each other with frying pans, farting and wearing inside-out footballs on their heads. They have been labelled childish, silly and rude and stand guilty as charged. But even Bob was shocked when he realised his comic genius was too immature for his four year old son, Harry.

"The only bit of Reeves & Mortimer my son has ever seen is us hitting each other with frying pans," Bob says with a sigh. "He got really upset. He said, 'Why is he hitting you daddy?' I said "Well, its just being funny." Harry looked at him with disdain. 'Hitting people is not funny,' he told his dad.

"The funny thing is that me and Jim have never had an argument, ever," Bob says. "We spend half the time on TV smacking each other and arguing. But we've never had a real argument."

The pots and pans are polystyrene and most of the props are balsa wood, but he and Vic still injure each other. "When we did Big Night Out we were terrible," he says of their first TV venture. "We're rubbish at pretend punching and hitting and there were no retakes so we just had to punch each other." He winces at the memory. "In one bit, Jim had to rip off half the lid of the desk and smack me on the head with it. One half was balsa wood and the other was proper wood. He picked up the wring half!" Bob mimes being attacked by a heavy wooden desk. "It looked fantastic on telly," he adds proudly. "There's stuff coming out of my nose..."

Harry, you reflect, wouldn't be very impressed. But then Bob knows keeping millions of TV viewers amused is child's play compared to entertaining his kids. When he's not filming, he's a full-time dad. "It's shattering," he admits, rubbing tired, pinprick eyes. "My kids are three and four and in the mornings it gets to 11am and I think 'I've been entertaining the kids for five hours already." The comic never knew his own father, who died when he was six. "My father's death was probably the defining moment of my life. Which is strange in a way because I don't remember him. The only thing I can remember is him walking out of a door." He looks sad when he says this. "When me dad died he was a salesman, selling Fox's biscuits."

He was insistent about the type - crumble crunch - and the brand, Fox's. It seemed eccentric but it suddenly makes sense. He's maintaining a link to the father he can't remember.

"I don't know if he would be proud of what I do," Bob continues. "He might disapprove - I never knew him to know what he liked." "I don't want to be dull about it. I don't miss him because I don't remember him, but I do sort of know that his death made me the person I am."

What sort of person is he? "I'm a compulsive helper - that's probably what a shrink would diagnose. I always want to help." "I tried to be strong for me mam when my dad died. It was selfish, I suppose, because I knew that if I lost my mam I'd have nothing. That's what I'm like. I try to be nice to people so they'll need me, so they don't f*** off".

In all the years since he was 12, 41 year old Bob has never been out of a relationship. "I've been with my girlfriend, Lisa, 10 years now," he says.

Comedy may be the new rock and roll, but Bob's a domestic animal. Even his face is sleepy and cat-like. "Even before we had kids, we weren't exactly wild," he says. "Most of our time was spent sitting on the settee watching the box, going to Ikea, getting up late on Saturdays..."

His mum was a cookery teacher and spent the war "at the Ministry of Food showing people what to do with powdered eggs." Her son makes a fine ox-tongue, he says. "I can do all those tricky things. I can do all the jams - and I love my vegetable patch. The first time you actually plant something and it grows is magic."

Seeing Bob on the TV, zipping about like a hyperactive kid on high E numbers, it's hard to picture him making jam and tending to cabbages. But it's even harder to imagine that he was once a grey-suited solicitor, the sort of bloke that no one noticed. "They must be gobsmacked if they've seen me on telly," he says of his former colleagues at Southwark Council's legal centre. "Nobody noticed me there at all."

One night, on the way to the pub after work, a man suddenly came up behind him and held a knife to his throat. "It happened dead fast," recalls Bob. "I thought, 'I'm being mugged!' but all of a sudden he put his knife back in his pocket and said 'Oh hello Mr Mortimer, I didn't know it was you.' "It was one of my regular clients. I'd represented him in court about 15 times. He was a professional mugger."

Apart from the near mugging, life carried on quietly and Bob might have continued being invisible, except for a chance meeting at a pub in South London... with a man performing a comedy act with a ladder and a lump of lard. Bob started heckling from the audience and Jim Moir invited him on stage. There was a clap of thunder somewhere in the comic heavens and Vic  & Bob were born. From then on, every Thursday, he and Jim performed their irresistibly bizarre double act.

"When I first met Jim, Thursday nights were a bright spot in my life," Bob admits. "Working with Jim cracks me up and no one can make Jim laugh like I can."

Their pub act was spotted by Jonathan Ross's brother Adam and, on his recommendation, Michael Grade signed the pair up for Channel 4. In a hangover from those days, the duo always drank four weak pints of lager before performing a show. "We always drank," says Bob. "In the pub in New Cross we wouldn't be on until 11 O'clock, by which time we'd have had four pints. Now I'd be scared not to...

"People think we're mad because we need four pints of lager, under 3.4% proof. Four pints of strong lager and we'd be drunk. It's a fine line. You need to get that familiar feeling but it would be terrible if you were actually drunk," he laughs. "I have to admit that we were very drunk on Jonathan Ross's New Years Eve Special. I can't remember what we said. I don't even know if they showed it." When Vic and Bob were first on telly, Bob lived in a homeless shelter in South London. He'd left his native Middlesbrough to work at the council and had nowhere to live. The best the council could offer was the shelter and, as far as Bob could see, it had everything a young man could need - a roof, a bed and a decent pub nearby. He stayed there for five years.

"When we'd just become famous I used to think I'd love to be on Through the Keyhole," Bob says. He impersonates Lloyd's weird vowels and imagines him walking around the hostel: Whoo liiives heeere??"

He only left when the place went up in flames. "One of the nutters who lived there burnt it down one Easter," he says matter-of-factly. "I came back from me mam's at Easter and had nowhere to live. So I got a council flat instead." He scratches his chin. "You know, I wouldn't like to be one of those comedians straight from university," he says, thoughtfully. "I don't know how you get any perspective on it when life's always been as lovely as that. You haven't had a real life. How can you be happy?" Bob screws up his face and contemplates the present. He lives in a beautiful house Kent with Lisa and their two children. He and Vic are planning a new comedy series and have also been given lots of money for a film script which they keep forgetting to finish. A new series of Shooting Stars starts this month, with added sketches and the inspired choices of novelist Will Self and comedian Johnny Vegas to replace Mark Lamarr.

Comic quiz shows abound but Vic and Bob remain masters of their genre. Who else would have Debbie McGee abseil across the studio or have Michael Winner sniff out "dirty boys" using an elephants trunk? It is utterly, plainly, deliriously daft. But then, Reeves & Mortimer have made daft an art form.

"If you've nothing to compare it to it's not that much of a laugh in the end, being on the box," says Bob, seriously. "But I tell you something - it's absolute heaven compared to working with a council." The Mirror

Jan 2002

[thosequeenboys]

Love Is Love Is Love - Chapter 1 (Ben Hardy x Joe Mazzello)

Summary: Chapter 1: Missed:  Ben returns from a last-minute trip to a joyful reunion on New Year’s Eve.

A/N:  This is for the Hardzzello Week “Missing” prompt.  I loved imagining this story unfold and writing it, so much that I have Chapter 2 almost completed and Chapter 3 in the works for this love story series! Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged. Bolded text is referenced at the end. Other writings featuring Joe and Ben (together and individually) - and those Queen boys, of course, can be found in my Masterlist

Warning:  Brief non-explicit description of sex, mild angst, lots of fluff

tagging: @warriorteam1924 @heybuddy-drabbles @hey-holtzy @lapofthemusicgods @nightoftheland @halfasleepoetry @roger-taylors-car @joemazzhello

Chapter 1: Missed

The warm house Ben entered buzzed with the New Year’s Eve version of Mazzello Fest.  It was just before noon when he arrived, having returned from a sudden trip to London for family business.  The trip went well, but had coincided with the lead up to Christmas and the holiday itself.  He was pleased to have joined in time for the New Year’s celebration at Joe’s mom’s house.

Hearing the car door slam, Joe met Ben eagerly at the front door and helped him out of his coat, moving his luggage to the side of the spacious foyer.  Some of Joe’s family members called to Ben from the kitchen in the back where they gathered at the large table: “Hey Ben, Welcome. Come in.  Get some snacks.”

Ben and Joe embraced. Ben’s arms settled around Joe’s neck, his fingers angling into his hair.   Joe pulled Ben in closely, his arms stretched around Ben’s slender waist moving to his lower back.  They took each other in and held each other tightly, their lips finding each other’s necks and cheeks.  Quiet, satisfied moans escaped their mouths.

“Can I get you anything?” Joe asked, peeling his upper half from Ben, as his hands made their way into the back pockets of the blonde’s jeans.  Joe pressed deeper into the pockets and kneaded him gently, maintaining eye contact with his gorgeous green eyes. 

At another time, they would have kissed passionately, Ben’s hands finding Joe’s back pockets too.  They would have danced each other somewhat clumsily amidst laughs to the bedroom, hastily removing shoes and socks, bringing themselves to the center of the bed.  From there, they would flip each other over and over on the bed, taking turns laying on top of one another and on knees in front and behind each other, covering every inch, all angles of the soft sheeted surface.  They’d remove articles of clothing from each other as the positions allowed, while stealing kisses, caresses and nips on newly exposed skin. They’d delight in each other’s bodies, eager to express their love.  For now, Joe felt grateful that his husband had returned, and he accepted the fact that their skillful bed acrobatics would have to wait, yet again.

“Thanks, Love.”  Ben replied, his arms now on Joe’s shoulders, returning the gaze. “I could use some joe truthfully. I’m so beat, gotta wake up.” Ben craned his neck to scope out the pockets of activity around the house as voices ricocheted off the walls.

“You got him,” Joe smirked, separating from Ben, flipping his hand up with a dramatic flair and dragging it alongside his torso down to his legs.

“Hmmm, very nice. I mean the caffeinated variety.” Ben responded with a smile. His eyes darted to the living room off the foyer from which a lot of activity emanated.

“Ah, Ok,”  Joe said with a wink, relaying the standard order:  “Cuppa Joe, one sugar, light with almond milk, in a big mug, coming right up.”

Joe’s face became very serious.  He grasped Ben’s hands tightly.  “I’ve missed you so much…,” he stared into Ben’s eyes and took a breath, before continuing.  Ben gazed back at him, but was distracted by the raised noise level in the living room that was now punctuated by high squeals and laughter.

“I..I need to ...” Ben said urgently to Joe.

“I know,” Joe interrupted him softly with a warm smile and nod, abandoning the rest of his comment.

Ben smiled back and winked at Joe, releasing him, and then walked through the partially open French doors to the living room.  

Games and toys were strewn over the carpet.  The young players were in various postures behind their chosen amusements, their concentration broken by jolts of laughter and banter.  Heads turned as Ben entered. 

Suddenly, a small slender boy in blue sweat pants and a plaid button-down shirt in multiple blue hues bolted to Ben with outstretched arms.

Ben swept him up in a hug, holding him tightly, burying his face in the small collarbone and turning around slowly to seal the moment. Joe stepped into the room, looking on, and finished the rest of his sentiment under his breath.  “He missed you too.”

“Hey Buddy, I missed you so much.” Ben choked out, his voice rising, emotion overtaking him.

“Daddy!!!” The boy said, burying his head in the crook of Ben’s neck, as his arms grasped around it.

Ben stood still and held him tightly, planting kisses along the soft forehead, cheeks and chin, swaying from leg to leg as he spoke. “Alexander. Francis. Jones-Mazzello.  All days are nights to see till I see thee. And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.” (1)

Ben silently rejoiced and luxuriated in the familiar feeling, wanting time to stand still for just a little while.  A little over 24 months ago, he had no idea this feeling existed, and even now, he could not fully describe it. His love for Joe was infinite and deep, passionate and strong, but his love for this -his- child, Alex, was like none he had ever known. There was a wholeness to his life now he hadn’t known was missing. This relationship gave him fulfillment beyond any measure of professional achievement. And, damn, he was so fun to be around! And, Ben had to admit sheepishly, as Alex was often referred to as Ben’s Mini Me, so beautiful to behold.

Ben’s heart had never felt so full as when he was with this boy.  His angst was never as great as when he was unhappy or in any discomfort.   Ben still had not fully recovered from the night many months ago when the fever suddenly spiked to over 102.  Joe calmly said they needed to go to the hospital right away, hastily packing the bag, his eyes showing a concern that belied his calm voice and actions. At the hospital Joe spoke in depth with the doctor. Ben picked up snippets as he draped himself over the tiny body in the bassinet, touching him with cool hands and bargained with a greater power to have the fever enter him instead.  That ordeal was just one demonstration of Joe as a loving and responsive father and partner who grounded them all, and it was one of the scariest times of Ben’s life. The fever did break late the next evening, and life soon resumed its toddler-focused activities and routines.

Being separated from Alex, as Ben’s work necessitated, required tremendous compartmentalization. Sure, they FaceTimed, but it could not substitute for experiencing the world unfolding side-by-side.  The longing born from separations created a dent in Ben’s heart that never fully went away. Even when they reunited, it stayed as a reminder to cherish the times together and imprint them.  Another, longer trip loomed in the new year, but Ben didn’t let that thought enter this sacred moment.  

Their tender, poetic reunion was interrupted as Alex dissolved into a burst of giggles and squirms. Ben eased him down reluctantly. Holding Alex provided a type of calm and love he had never experienced, a special physicality.   “Daddy, sit here and watch me do the puzzle.” Alex said, running to bring the puzzle.

“Ok, Mate,” Ben said, sitting on the floor and locking eyes with Joe, who was misty-eyed.

“I’ll get your coffee,” Joe said, lingering a moment to see Alex plant him in the space between Ben’s crossed legs and Ben’s hands naturally settle on the toddler’s knees.

After quickly putting the five ocean animals in the wood board cut-outs, Alex tossed it and launched himself off of Ben, moving to a puzzle with 12 pieces.

“That’s too hard for you, Alex,” warned Jessie, Joe’s oldest niece (2). Undeterred, Alex separated the shapes by color and angle and then tried piecing them together in the frame.  

Ben reached for a shape sorter near him.  “Hey, Alex, want to try this?” he asked, concerned Alex would get frustrated. Alex ignored him, fully concentrating on the puzzle and having some success.

Joe entered and set the coffee on a table next to where Ben sat on the floor and stood beside him. Joe’s mother trailed behind.  Jessie’s dad, Joe’s brother-in-law, Pete, entered the room too and scouted the action. His eyes landed on Alex.  “Wow, he’s actually putting it together.  That’s amazing.  Seriously, guys, that’s advanced.”

“Then there was that…numbers incident on Christmas.” Joe’s mother commented as she watched her youngest grandson finger the puzzle pieces pensively and work to connect them.

“Numbers incident.” Ben repeated. “Sounds like something having to do with National security.   Did he break a code for the government? What did he do?” he asked jokingly intrigued, though he felt sadness having missed an important milestone, which seemed to happen more as time went by.  It had only been a little over a week, but much had transpired. In this new life, time was measured less in days and more in moments.

“He set out the building blocks with the numbers in order and counted to 10. Correctly.”  Joe’s mother said, impressed.

“Alright, alright,” Joe said. “I wouldn’t call Mensa yet.  He’s obviously just copying his older cousins.  Trying to keep up.  Though I might be bold and take credit for the counting,” Joe smirked, letting out a laugh.  “The Count was always my favorite Muppet on Sesame Street,” he declared, “and I have tried to pass on my passion for counting.”

Ben burst out laughing, and Alex joined in.  “I like The Count too!  I count with Papa,”  he said, looking at his dads laughing together.

“You certainly do,” Joe exclaimed, going over to give Alex’s hair a tussle.

“Hey, Uncle Ben,” Joe’s oldest nephew chimed in.  “Can we go out back and play soccer.”  

“Uh, Football?” Ben laughed. “Sure.  Ok, anyone wanting to join, get your trainers on.” Ben was always up for some football and enjoyed spending time with the nieces and nephews, though in this moment, all he wanted to do was curl up with Alex.  Alex, however, was always eager to join his older cousins. He abandoned the almost-finished puzzle and raced over to Joe for help with his sneakers.

The nieces and nephews proceeded to the backyard, and Ben set up goals with sticks.  As they passed the ball between each other, Alex ran alongside Ben, trying in vain to keep up.  The winter day was unseasonably warm and the sun bright. They quickly abandoned their jackets.  After a half hour, Joe’s mom called them in for lunch.  The timing was perfect.  Ben suddenly felt hungry and ready to crash, and Alex looked tired too.  “How about we take a nap after lunch?” Ben said, bending down to Alex, rubbing their noses together.  He stood up and held Alex’s hand as they walked into the house together. “Thanks, Uncle Ben,” the chorus of nephews and nieces said.

Following lunch, Ben helped Alex out of his booster seat, swinging him low on his hip.  “We’re heading up for a nap,” he said to Joe, who nodded, deep in conversation with his brother.  Ben brought his suitcase upstairs, as Alex climbed the steps slowly behind him.

In the bedroom, Ben took off his shirt which was damp with sweat and change into a fresh pair of sweatpants. He undressed Alex, changed his diaper and put him in a short-sleeved onesie with clean sweatpants.

“You tired, Babe?” he cooed. Alex nodded sleepily in response. The portable crib was set up at the foot of the bed, but Ben settled Alex in the double bed. Ben curled next to him, pulling him into his bare chest and brushing his blonde hair back.  Ben reveled in his warmth and his familiar scent, a mix of their sandalwood soap, Johnson’s baby shampoo and the faint smell of Desitin.  

Joe entered the room.  “My soon-to-be sleeping beauties.  Good you’re napping.  We have a long night ahead of us.  We pulled out all the stops for tonight: noise-makers, hats, light necklaces and other treats. It will be a wild party indeed!”

“Hmm, sounds fun,” Ben managed, snuggling Alex and planting light kisses on his bare arm.  

“Birthday party?” Alex asked.

“No, New Year’s Eve party…we say goodbye to this year and welcome the new one, which starts after midnight.” Ben said, giving Alex a hug, trying to prevent him from get riled up.

Joe eyed his two loves spooned together. If it were up to Ben, Alex would sleep in their bed every night. Co-sleeping was an area on which they didn’t always agree. A few months ago, they decided he could share their bed only for a special situation.  The criteria were not always clear, and Joe was known to give in, eager for the presence of their son and Ben’s contentment.  “Well, I guess this qualifies as a special situation. You’ve been away unplanned for over a week, and it’s New Year’s Eve.” Joe ribbed Ben with a big smile.   He loved seeing them together and expected that after being away, Ben would want Alex next to him as much as possible.

“Yeah, it is special. Missed this sweet boy…and his papa.” Ben said, his voice fading with impending sleep.  His arm settled lightly around Alex, and Alex put his small hand over Ben’s knuckles.  Their breathing steadied together and in a few minutes, they were asleep.  

Joe approached the bed and covered them with the sheet and comforter. He planted kisses on each of their cheeks and smoothed each of their blonde heads.  “My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love is deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.” (3) Joe said softly, before he backed out of the room and shut the door softly behind him, pleased that his boys were resting, but eager for them to wake to continue their sweet reunion -- and start the new year together.

Notes

Sonnet 43, William Shakespeare

I’ve retained the names of Joe’s family members from my 36: Reset fic

Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare, Act II, scene ii

[mamaladykt]

Quarantine Q&A

I was tagged by @queenrisa14 which whaaaaaaa!? God when will the Sally Fields "they like me!!!" feeling go away when ever I am tagged in anything? Does it ever? I'm always stunned people are aware of my existence. Thanks girl! Anywho!

Are you staying home from work/school?

Soooooooo, about this. Hehehe. I was working. I was considered essential. To the point that my 4 day a week job turning into 7 days a week, 12 hours a day for TWENTY days straight. It took a toll. On me and my kids. So, because my kids are now out of school for the rest of the school year, my schedule not allowing for any flexibility or a leave of absence, I put in notice last week and my last day was Monday night. I felt really good about it, felt free, came home tuesday morning and filed for unemployment on grounds of childcare needs (which was immediately flagged 🙄😭) and slept. Today was a new day, started cleaning my house for the first time in over a month...... and it went down hill from there. Horrendous night and not feeling great about the uphill battle that will be getting my kids (and husband) back on track. TL;DR yes I'm home, it's a mess.

If you're staying home, who's with you?

That would be my 5 children, my oldest daughter is 11 (dear God tween hormones are no joke!) and my 4 sons, who are 9, 7, 5, and 3. My husband is still working and I miss him during the day and wanted to boot him out tonight. Sigh.

Are you a homebody?

Yes!!! I'm an introvert. If I was well and truly alone, I would never need to leave my house. I have no issues with the idea of ordering groceries online, I just ordered my first ever iPad online and I'm trying to navigate buying glasses and contacts online (PM me with links of websites if you've done this and had a good experience). I just need Amazon to get their shit together and ship my stuff! This isn't the 90's it doesn't need to take a month to get me something. Gah! Also, if I could figure out how to get my ADHD diagnosis from home via telemedicine that would be greeeeeeeeat. Seriously never want to leave my house again.

What movies have you watched recently?

Hahahahahaha!!!!!!! Omg you think I watch movies... That's adorable. Yea, noooo. The last movie I watched was Frozen 2 when it hit Disney+ a month ago. I am, however trying to gear myself up emotionally for watching Avengers Infinity War and Endgame this Sunday. It's been a year..... I'm still not ok. And I haven't watched since that fateful day in the theaters. No seriously, I cried last night just hearing the opening notes to the IW TRAILER! The trailer y'all. "There was an idea....." 😭😭 Ugly sob.

Shows?

Umm, I was watching Outlander at work. I binge watched the first four seasons in like a month back in January. Couldn't wait for season 5 and lost all steam once it started. I dunno. I think it's the Brianna story line. Other than that I honestly throw on Downton Abbey or Victoria again when I need something to watch. (can you tell I have a thing for accents...) I'd love to binge watch in order from the beginning The Big Bang Theory! If anyone knows where I can get the series to stream, let me know. I've watched it out of order for years and years and love it so much but seeing it start to finish sounds like a perfect quarantine activity.

What event was cancelled that you were looking forward to?

My kids going to school on a daily basis?? Lol. No, you know what's funny. I've never gone, didn't have plans to go, but I actually shed a tear when they cancelled Comic Con 2020 in San Diego. I was hoping to go next year so it was a mix of disappointment over not streaming this year's panels/the historical significance of there not being one and feeling like next year is now unattainable because all the 2020 ticket holders will get that one? It's weird and all hypothetical and stupid. Honestly I'm a mom and I don't get to do anything. The most exciting thing on my "to-do" list that was postponed was the Black Widow movie. I have waiting 10 goddamn years for my girl to get a solo movie! TEN YEARS!!!! I needed this to distract from the 1 year anniversary of losing Tony Stark Endgame. Gah. I'm also holding my breath that Sailor Moon Crystal the movie doesnt get postponed from September to God knows when. And my October trip to Orlando for Girl Scouts USA Convention isn't canceled. I'm going to Disney World!! If Florida isn't stup.... Yea ok. 😑😒😞

What Music are you listening to?

My Seiya playlist. I have a playlist of music that I think Seiya would sing. Cuz I love him and he's cheeky and in my head he's a weird mix of Adam Levine and Brendon Urie and that's what the playlist is full of. And this one song by Dermot Kennedy called Outnumbered that is just, IMO Seiya's parting words to Usagi. That and I'm kind of obsessed with Dance Monkey by Tones and I.

What are you reading?

Other than articles about the CARES act regarding unemployment benefits, reviews of cases and accessories for my new iPad Pro (it's the 12.9 and I had no idea I bought the big one and that it's basically a touch screen iMac and I'm overwhelmed with trying to find something to protect it from my children....) or homeschool tips and tricks for kids with autism.......

So help me God, I am reading The Unintentional Seduction of Chiba Mamoru if it freaking kills me. It's been on my to-read list for freaking ever and I am dying that I haven't read it yet. And kind of hating myself. Come on KT, get your ish together sis!!! I'm sorry @floraone !!

What are you doing for self-care?

I quit my job for one. That was the ultimate self-care move. That and for my kids.

Also, Online shopping? I have purchased things for myself that I have never done before. Makeup which is so fun. Like I bought the whole Sailor Moon makeup collection from Colour Pop. I got my first Morphe palette. And big girl concealer from Tarte. Yaaaaas! My iPad and all the pink accessories I can find. A pink throw blanket because my kids have a million blankets but we have no throw blankets for the couch. What the hell? And my favorite thing, I bought a bunch of stuff from teepublic with my profile picture on it from the artist @briannacherrygarcia (seriously her work is amazing! Go check her out, I can't get enough) that created it. I mean, how cool is that. I'm usually too poor to support the content creators for which I am so grateful for. After working three 84hr weeks, I figured I deserved to splurge on something that wasn't in anyway shape or form a need. A pure joyful want. Cant be excused as anything else. It felt so good. I got stickers and an art print and a coffee mug (because coffee mugs are my favorite thing and I somehow do not have enough of them so if anyone wants to send me pretty coffee mugs!) And a hoodie!! I'm so excited.

That last question is amazing. I was feeling so down and overwhelmed by just how bad my home and everyone in it was doing after I was working so much. I am not exaggerating saying it going to take weeks to put this back together and help my kids get used to having rules and structure again. Because it wasn't gonna be a quick fix I was hating life. But listing all the ways that I managed to take care of me, something I never do, because that's what I needed the last month to literally survive, reminded me that I am in a good place and that I have time now to get this done. It took a month to get to this level of chaos it only stands to reason that it's probably gonna take a month to put it back. And shit it's not like we're going anywhere. What's the rush? ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Thanks @queenrisa14 for this! This was great and fun and so needed for my psyche. I tag anyone on my follows list who hasn't done this. Do it and say I tagged you.

MamaLK says take care of you and the rest will fall into place! 😘

[notsoguiltykpop]

Champion pt9

Jungkook x Reader

Racecar driver / street racer au

Genre: Romance, slow-burn, suspense(?), fluff, slightly smutty later on in the story

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 10

Synopsis: You might have gotten your start on the street, but you’ve always had bigger plans. With a new sponsor backing you, you’re all set to work your way up in the motorsport world and make it big.Your dream is to take down Jeon Jungkook, who is currently one of the best drivers in the sport. He doesn’t quite know how he feels about this rookie winning all the races and getting all the attention, but it reminds him why he’s racing in the first place–to be nothing but the best, and leave everyone else in the dust.Things get complicated when he falls head over heels for the competition.

—

Jungkook woke with a start and immediately regretted it. His head was pounding and the room was too bright, and he shifted on the couch to try to roll away from the window. It took another moment for him to figure out that he was on a couch that wasn’t his, and in his half-asleep state he almost started to panic, but then he sat up and remembered where he was.

Jooheon was sleeping on the couch across from him still, snoring lightly, and Jungkook caught himself smiling. He had to admit, Seokjin was right to talk him into going to the party. He had needed a break and some laughs. He was even glad he got to know 52 better, and he meant it when he told the other driver that he thought they should be friends, not enemies. 52 was strange, but in a funny sort of way, and was growing on Jungkook fast.

There was a nagging thought in the back of his head as he sat up straighter, blinking in an attempt to wake himself up further. There was something he needed to do, he just couldn’t quite remember what it was. He felt around for his phone first in his pockets, then on the couch, and finally spotted it on the card table.

He stood and stretched before making his way over to it. He wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but there was something he was supposed to do first, if he could just remember–

“Shit.” He muttered once he picked up his phone, seeing the last text he’d gotten from you the night before. He’d invited you over for breakfast, of all things. It had seemed like a good idea at the time; the next day he had free was a week away, and if you were actually willing to talk now, he wanted to hear what you had to say. And if you weren’t going to talk, if you were expecting him act like you hadn’t driven off and left him, and like the illegal race hadn’t happened, then he wanted closure. He looked at the time–7:12–and decided he might still be able to get back to his house before you did.

Eleanor was in the kitchen, and gave him a bemused look as he half-hopped past her, trying to get his shoe on as he went.

“Stay for coffee, you don’t need to rush out of here–” She started, but Jungkook shook his head.

“Late,” He said distractedly, checking his pockets for his keys.

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “Where do you need to be at seven in the morning on a Monday?”

“It’s a long story,” Jungkook muttered as he began looking around for his car keys. He had them last night, and he couldn’t figure out why they weren’t in his pocket now. Eleanor opened the drawer next to her before holding them up, smiling.

“This what you’re looking for?” Jungkook held his hand out in answer, but she just held them out of his reach. “I took them as a precaution last night. You can have them back if you tell me where you’re off to in such a hurry. You didn’t say anything about having an early morning.”

Jungkook sighed, tonguing his cheek and folding his arms. “I don’t see how it’s your business. But if you have to know, I invited someone over for breakfast.”

“You did?” Eleanor scoffed, still holding onto his keys. “You never pass up the opportunity to sleep in. Who are you and what did you do with Jungkook?”

“Ha ha,” He replied dryly. “You’re hilarious. Now give me my keys.”

“Whoever it is must be important…” Eleanor mused, tapping her chin in thought. “You’re dating someone, aren’t you? When do I get to meet her?”

Jungkook decided not to argue that he’d never said it was a her, nor had he said anything about a relationship; He was already running out of time, and didn’t want to waste more of it. “Most likely never.”

Eleanor seemed taken aback by this and slightly offended, and Jungkook took the opportunity to snatch his keys out of her hand.

“It was a fun party, tell Simon I said hi.”

“This conversation isn’t over!” Eleanor called after him.

—

[Jungkook, 8:13] “Back door is open. Help yourself to coffee”

You glanced at his text again, still reluctant to get out of your car. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a bad idea. Telling him about your past might make everything worse, not only now, but also when he learned who you were. But you needed to do this. Seokjin already knew everything, somehow, so Jungkook would find out about it sooner or later and you would rather he heard it from you even if that wouldn’t change anything between the two of you.

Taking one last deep breath, you decided that procrastinating further wasn’t going to help anything.

His house was on the small side, almost modest, but cute and well maintained. The garage door was open as he said it would be, and you stepped carefully over a motorcycle he appeared to have entirely taken apart. You expected to see his Maserati to be parked on the other side, but instead saw a Nissan GTR.

“Jungkook?” You called when you stepped into his kitchen. The smell of coffee hit you first, and the smell of Jungkook’s aftershave and cologne under that. It was comforting in a way, and calmed your nerves drastically.

The ingredients for waffles sat on one side of the sink, and a coffee pot with two mugs on the other. You poured yourself some and hopped up to sit on the counter, hoping the caffeine would wake you up. You only got about two hours of sleep the night before after getting home so late.

It wasn’t long before Jungkook appeared, his hair still wet from his shower.

“Hey,” He gave you a half-smile, his eyes looking as tired as you felt. “Sorry, been running late all morning. Had a late night…”

“Yeah, me too,” You sent him a smile back.

Neither of you said anything for a moment, and right as it was starting to feel awkward, Jungkook seemed to snap out of whatever train of thought he’d fallen into.

“Is waffles okay?” He asked, not waiting for an answer as he began measuring the ingredients out.

You nodded anyway before sipping your coffee. As nervous as you were, you were still glad to be there with him.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” You noted, smiling softly to yourself. You couldn’t help but think that it would be nice if you were there under other circumstances; the idea of waking up to this, sleepy Jungkook making breakfast, was more than appealing. Your smile faded somewhat as you realized what you were thinking, and the likelihood of that never happening.

“Oh, I can’t,” Jungkook replied quickly as he cracked the second egg into the bowl.

“It sure looks like you can,” You raised an eyebrow, but he just shook his head.

“No,” He chuckled lightly as he began mixing the batter. “I can cook waffles, specifically. That’s pretty much it.”

“It’s a good thing I like waffles, then,” You joked.

Silence fell for a few minutes after that, neither of you quite sure where to start. But once the batter was poured, there wasn’t much more avoiding the elephant in the room.

Jungkook walked over next to you to get his own coffee, close enough that you could smell his shampoo.

“I want you to know that I didn’t steal Coldwater’s car,” You started, looking at your coffee rather than directly at Jungkook as he looked up at you. “I’ve done a lot of questionable things in the past, but that’s not one of them.”  

“We don’t have to talk about this now,” Jungkook replied quietly. “Don’t you want to eat first?” He chuckled slightly, trying to lighten the mood.

You shook your head. “Honestly? I think I’d rather get it over with.” He nodded in understanding, leaning back against the counter across from you, watching you intently. “I started street racing in highschool. Made bets against other students sometimes, but it was pretty casual. I don’t remember when it started being about the money, to be honest. It was like one day I just realized that without racing, I’d be broke. After that, I started taking it more… Seriously, I guess. I got involved with some bad people, made connections I probably shouldn’t have…” You paused, lost in thought for a second. It felt strange talking about any of this with someone who wasn’t Jimin. Even Hoseok didn’t ask too many questions about your former “profession,” for lack of a better word, and you didn’t offer up any details. “One of those connection was Allen Schaltz. He became a sort of middle-man. He placed bets for or against me, depending on if I felt like losing or not, and he would collect my winnings–What?”

Jungkook had tilted his head to one side, bemusement on his face. “Depending on if you felt like losing?” Jungkook echoed.

You nodded. “I had to lose sometimes, otherwise no one would race against me, let alone place any bets. But no one could beat me unless I let them. So…” You let your voice trail off as Jungkook nodded in understanding, though he still looked thoroughly confused by the concept of losing on purpose. “By the time I realized what I had really gotten myself into, I didn’t see a way out. Any entry-level job wouldn’t pay enough to make up for me quitting street racing. So I stuck with it. Until last year, I mean.”

“What changed?” Jungkook’s expression was unreadable, and you chewed your lip as you tried to think of how best to continue. You hadn’t thought this far ahead when you told him you wanted to talk, mostly because you knew if you did, you would back out.

“Hoseok,” You said after a moment. “He saw potential in me. He said he would help me get out of the mess I’d gotten into as long as I agreed to quit street racing. He covered a lot of my bills until he set me up with the job at the cafe. I owe him a lot.”

Jungkook seemed to mull this over for a moment, brows slightly furrowed. “But you still decided to go behind his back and race anyway?” You could tell he was trying to keep the disapproval from his voice.

“I didn’t want to,” You shook your head, eyes on your coffee rather than meeting Jungkook’s own. “Allen learned a lot about me in the three years we worked together, so when I disappeared from the street racing scene, it was a lot harder to get off his radar. I knew he wasn’t happy that I quit–I was a source of easy income for him, after all. I should have expected that he wouldn’t let it go…” You realized you were rambling to yourself now, your voice quiet. You cleared your throat before continuing. “He showed up one night with a job offer–to drive in Coldwater’s place because he needed to win the race against his brother.” You looked up at Jungkook finally, gaze unwavering. “I didn’t want to do it. But Allen knows things about me that he… Said he would make public if I didn’t accept the offer.” You couldn’t think of a better way to phrase it. “If that information got out, Hoseok would go down with me. I couldn’t risk doing that to him.”

That much was true, at least.

Jungkook’s gaze had darkened. “He threatened you? Why didn’t you go to the police? I mean, that’s blackmail, right?”

You shook your head. “The information would still get out, even if I did manage to get him arrested for blackmail. I know Allen, he’s always got a backup plan.”

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair in agitation. “Jesus.” He muttered under his breath.

“When the car crashed and I was the one pulled out of it, Coldwater had to come up with some excuse about why he wasn’t driving. The easiest one was that I stole his car,” You fidgeted with your mug, and seeing that Jungkook looked like he was about to say something, you added quickly; “I understand if you don’t believe me, I know how it sounds. But I wanted you to know the truth.”

You sat in silence for a moment. Jungkook looked like he was still trying to process all of this, and you still couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“And Hoseok? What did he have to say about the blackmail?”

“He doesn’t know about any of it,” You admitted. “Not the blackmail, or the race.”

“How’d you explain the crash, then?” He asked, then upon seeing you grimace, he nodded to himself. “He doesn’t know about that, either,” He answered his own question.

“I should have told him,” You sighed. “But I didn’t, I thought I had it under control, and now I don’t know how to tell him without sounding like I went back on my word to quit street racing–Which I did, I suppose.”

Jungkook sighed, eyes focused somewhere off to your left and at nothing in particular as he thought. “What does Coldwater have on you that scared you bad enough to agree to something like that? It wasn’t just the street racing, was it?”

“Does that mean you believe me?” You said, trying not to get your hopes up too high.

“It means I’m trying,” Jungkook replied curtly.

“Information that, if it got out now, under the wrong circumstances, could ruin my career. Could ruin Hoseok’s too, by association.”

Jungkook seemed to pick up on the fact that that was as much of an answer as he was going to get.

“I want to trust you,” He admitted, walking over to refill his coffee cup next to you. “And I guess I can understand why you didn’t tell me before.” You could still see the uncertainty in his eyes as he spoke, however, despite his words. “But if whatever this is–” He gestured between the two of you, “–Is going to continue, I’d like to feel like you trust me, too.” He turned to face you fully, then, his hand resting on the counter centimeters from your thigh.

“I trust you,” You said quickly, without even thinking.

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth turned upwards, as though he was trying not to smile and failing. “Then talk to me next time. At least give me a chance to understand?”

You nodded, unsure if you could even believe that things had resolved so well. “Does that mean things can go back to how they were?” You asked tentatively. This was the perfect opportunity to tell him the whole truth. Maybe not right this second, because that might be too much all at once, but this morning for sure. He would understand, now you were sure.

Jungkook tilted his head, then scrunched his nose. “Before that, I have another question.” You nodded for him to continue, unsure of where he was going with this. “Can I be your boyfriend?” His face switched from semi-serious to mischievous in an instant, a grin spreading across his face. “I know it might be too soon to ask, but–”

You broke him off by leaning forward, catching his lips with your own. You felt him smile into the kiss as he moved to stand in front of you rather than beside where you sat. He pulled away just long enough to murmur, “I’ll take that as I yes?”

His hands were gentle as they found their way to rest on your hips, pulling you marginally closer to the edge of the countertop.

You were about to affirm that it was most definitely a yes when you noticed an odd smell in the air.

“I think the food is burning,” You couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped you as Jungkook paused.

“Food?” He repeated blankly, then swore, hurrying over to the smoking waffle-maker.

“I thought you said you were good at cooking waffles!” You teased as the smoke alarm started going off. Jungkook muttered something about the fact that he wasn’t planning on getting so distracted as he tossed the ruined food in the garbage, and you took it upon yourself to start opening the kitchen windows, letting fresh air in.

When you heard the garage door open, you assumed it was Jungkook, so more air would flow through the room. It wasn’t him, though, and when you tuned and made eye contact with his manager, your heart sank. He didn’t look happy.

The alarm finally stopped in time for Seokjin to ask, “What are you doing here?”

Jungkook turned around to see him, looking a bit more than exasperated. “I think a better question would be what are you doing here?” He retorted before you had a chance to say anything. He then turned to you. “Y/n, this is my manager, Seokjin. He doesn’t understand boundaries and likes to show up unannounced.” He rolled his eyes dramatically before going back to trying to clean the waffle maker.

“We’ve met,” Seokjin sighed, helping himself to some coffee. “Also, I texted you an hour ago I would be here–I wanted to make sure you hadn’t forgotten about the meeting later.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Jungkook sighed. “So you can leave now.”

Seokjin seemed to have other plans, though. “You’re not going to invite me to stay for breakfast?”

“Nope,” Jungkook replied curtly, crossing his arms.

His manager pressed his lips into a thin line, glancing at you before catching Jungkook’s arm and pulling him just out of earshot.

“Jungkook…” He started quietly, sending another glance at you.

“We sorted everything out,” Jungkook assured the other man. “I took your advice and heard her out. We talked about everything, and you were right. There was more to what happened… Thank you.”

It wasn’t often that Seokjin didn’t know what to say, but he stood in a stunned silence for a second while trying to think of how to answer. “I know I said that, but that was before–”

“Before what?”

“Before I really thought about it,” Seokjin sighed, though Jungkook could tell that wasn’t originally what he was thinking. “What do you mean by you talked about everything?”

Jungkook frowned. “Street racing, the crash…” He shrugged. “Why? I thought you’d be happy I took your advice for once.”

Seokjin just shook his head. “No, I am. I was just… Curious.”

He fell silent as you made your way over to the two of them, giving Jungkook an apologetic smile.

“I have to be at work soon, so I’m going to take off… I’ll call you?”

Jungkook tried not to pout. “You didn’t eat, though.” It was a flimsy excuse to keep you there, considering that there wasn’t anything too eat yet, but he couldn’t think of anything better.

“Another time,” You assured him, nodding at Seokjin on your way out. 

—

Your collarbone was healing. It was slower than you wished it would, but considering you hadn’t exactly been taking it easy, you couldn’t complain much. 

Just when you were starting to think that you wouldn’t have to tell Hoseok about your injury ever, you turned your shoulder wrong in qualifying the day before your race against Jungkook. 

You had been trying to primarily drive with your good arm, but in a moment of misjudgment, you pushed too hard.

“I’m sorry,” You said over the radio to Taehyung, after saying you were coming back to the pits. “I just–I can’t.” You knew if you continued to push it, you wouldn’t be able to drive at all tomorrow. All you could do now was hope that the few good laps you’d had would be enough to keep you in the top ten. 

Hoseok wasn’t there when you got out of your car, luckily. But it didn’t take long for someone to shove a cellphone into your hand and give you a worried look.

“I’m sorry,” You echoed what you’d said to Taehyung. 

“What happened?” Hoseok asked stiffly. 

“I uh–I’ve injured my shoulder,” You cleared your throat nervously. 

“How?” 

You suddenly wished you’d stayed in the car and just dealt with it. Sure, you likely woudn’t have been able to move it at all tomorrow if you had, but at least you might have avoided this conversation. 

“It was an accident, I can explain,” You said. You half expected Hoseok to start yelling at you for quitting qualifying, for screwing over your chances for tomorrow. But dead silence fell on the other side of the phone for an uncomfortably long moment. 

“You’re an idiot.” Hoseok finally said, and hung up before you could say anything else. 

—

You should be sleeping. Even if you were too nervous to get any real sleep, you knew logically you should at least be pretending to get some rest. Instead, you found yourself laying on your hotel room couch, Jungkook half laying next to you and half on top, his head resting on his hand. You had the excuse of supporting Hoseok to be there for the race weekend, and Jungkook didn’t argue much other than to say he was sure that you were really just there to support him. 

Over the last two weeks, things has significantly improved between the two of you, but weren’t exactly the same. Sometimes, when Jungkook would spontaneously text you a meme without context or show up at the cafe to lean on the counter and wink, saying he was in the mood for tea and his being there definitely had nothing to do with the fact that this was where you worked, you could almost forget that things had very nearly ended between the two of you.

Other times, like now, as he idly traced circles on your arm, eyes on the bruise that was still left on your collarbone, you were reminded that it was only a temporary fix.

“Does it still hurt?” He asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over you.

You shook your head, smiling softly. “Nah, not really. It looks worse than it is, now.”

Jungkook nodded to himself, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. “Have you thought any more about going to the police about what happened?”

He’d brought this up before, never trying to pressure you, but not quite ready to let it go either. You could tell he was mad that you were dragged into it, but now his anger was solely directed at Coldwater.

“It’s not worth the risk,” You said again. You knew Jungkook meant well, and you appreciated his concern, but he still didn’t know what was really at stake if you made the issue even worse than it already was.

You could tell that he wanted to say more on the subject, but he sighed instead. “Okay. But maybe I could help if I knew what exactly the risk was…” He muttered, but seemed more concerned than irritated.

“There really isn’t anything anyone could do,” You shook your head. You had originally expected Jungkook to ask more questions about what the blackmail itself was, but for the most part, he’d done the opposite. He made it clear that if and when you were ready to talk about it, he was there for you, and left it at that. “Let’s talk about something else?”

“Sure,” With his free hand, he brushed a stray hair away from your face. “I’m glad you’re going to be there tomorrow.”

He didn’t have to say where for you to know he meant the race. “I wouldn’t miss it.” You grinned. “I have to be there when you lose.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, and you were glad the mood seemed to have lightened drastically. “Sometimes I forget you’re my biggest anti-fan.”

“I’m not an anti,” You protested. “I’m just stating facts. 52′s going to beat you tomorrow.”

“Really?” Jungkook laughed. “Because I don’t think so.”

“We’ll see, I guess,” You shrugged noncommittally, trying not to grin, but that wasn’t enough for Jungkook. He shifted so he was hovering above you, his weight on his arms which were now on either side of you.

“Be serious for a second,” He started, and it was your turn to roll your eyes. This hardly seemed like the time or position for a serious conversation.

“I am being serious,” You argued, and he shook his head.

“What would you do if I lost tomorrow?”

You pretended to think about it for a second, tilting your head to one side in thought.

“I’d throw a party.” You decided. Jungkook gave you a dubious look.

“No, I mean really.”

“I’d throw a party,” You said again, this time with more finality. “With lots of alcohol, maybe some cake. There might even be some confetti. There will be a dance floor… Don’t look at me like that, you’re invited, too.”

Jungkook was giving you the most unimpressed look you’d ever seen, including that first day you met him on the track.

“You actually want 52 to win, don’t you?”

You nodded. “I thought that was obvious.”

Jungkooks mouth opened slightly, face incredulous. “I can’t believe I’m actually dating my biggest anti-fan.” He said this more to himself than to you.

“I already told you, I’m not–” You cut yourself off with a huff. “Wanting you to lose doesn’t make me an anti.” Jungkook looked like he wanted to argue, so you didn’t give him the chance. “You’re a competitive person, Jungkook. And do you know what competitive people need?”

“Uh, no?” He didn’t look like he knew where you were going with this.

“Competition! Otherwise you get bored. I know, because I’m the same way. You told me racing isn’t the same anymore, and that’s why you want to quit. I’m telling you that it’s not the same because you don’t have any more rivals left. It’s not fun to win if you didn’t even have to try.” Jungkook looked lost in thought as you spoke. “I hope you drive your best tomorrow. I hope you do everything you can to win, and I hope you come in second to 52. Because I think losing is exactly what you need.”

“So basically, what you’re saying is, a real fan would want me to lose,” He smiled mischievously. “Which means that you are a fan after all.”

“That’s seriously all that you got out of that,” You scoffed, rolling your eyes dramatically. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe you’re right,” He admitted, suddenly much more serious. “Maybe it would be good for me to lose. It’s too bad you’re wrong that 52 can beat me, then.” He grinned, giving your forehead a quick kiss before pushing himself up off the couch. “I’ve got to get back before my trainer realizes I’m not sleeping. See you tomorrow, after I win.” 

—

A/N Um oops so this has been done since January and I just forgot to edit it. Please let me know what you think!! I know it’s been forever and a day since I’ve updated, I hope that you haven’t all left out of frustration. Thank you for reading, I’m so happy to be back! 

Tagging @batakookie and @joepesci-isfine

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates and I’ll add you to the list! 

[thewritewolf]

Rekindle Chapter 5 - Baking

While getting settled in to watch some movies, Marinette and Chat Noir bake some cookies for snacking.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30  31

@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

“Really? That’s why your coworkers are mad at you? Seems like a really stupid thing to keep a grudge over.” Chat Noir sipped at the tea Marinette had made for him, holding the mug very carefully to avoid scratching it was his clawed gloves.

“I know, right?! So I had one bad day two years ago and they will still barely talk to me.” She sighed. “I’ve already started looking around for other internships. Even if I don’t get better pay, it’ll at least be nice not to be a social outcast.”

It had been sweet of Chat Noir to listen to her vent for the last… three hours, she realized with a wince as she glanced at her clock. When had Chat Noir become so patient? Her experience with him from Ladybug’s perspective was a hothead who rushed into things without thinking. There had been times where she had to worry more about reining in his more moody episodes than fighting the akuma of the day. Yet here he was, letting her get all her frustrations off her chest while being as supportive as ever.

“It definitely isn’t fair, purrincess. But I think I know what will cheer you up…” She tilted her head to the side as he stretched for the gift box he’d brought. Holding up the dvds, he grinned at her, “...movie night!”

“Hm… sounds good, but missing something.” She tapped her chin for added effect.

“And what’s that?”

“We’ll need snacks. Lots of them.” She caught him glancing towards the last remnants of their dinner. “Pasta is not movie food, chaton, not even delicious pasta.” He puffed his chest out at her off-handed compliment. “How does sugar cookies sound to you?”

“I’ll defer to your superior movie day expertise.” They stood at the same time, but Chat Noir hesitated. “It’s, uh… been awhile since I’ve made cookies. Like, years. So I’ll follow your lead on this one.”

“Well, it’s good for you that I practically grew up baking delicious treats.” She started pulling out all the ingredients she’d need. “Sugar cookies really aren’t that hard, so I’ll just whip up the batter myself. You can help roll them out into balls before we put them in the oven.”

Chat Noir sighed dramatically, holding aloft his chef’s hat. Even after three hours of talking, she didn’t know why he’d brought it besides being a dork. “Ah, from head chef to mere bystander. How the mighty have fallen.”

“Well since you seem so familiar with my kitchen, you can get the pan out and greased while I’m going this.”

“Yes, chef!” Despite the crisp salute, he moved leisurely and hummed a song that Marinette couldn’t quite place while he worked. She was still stirring when he was finished and watching her expectantly.

She stared pointedly at his hands. “Those gauntlets come off, Chat?”

“Yes…? Oh, right. Probably don’t want me rolling cookies in these, do you?” He chuckled to himself as he undid some latch underneath the bulky gloves and Marinette blinked as she realized that this was the first time she’d ever seen her partners bare hands.

They weren’t what she had expected, although she wasn’t aware she even had expectations of what he looked like outside the suit. Since Chat was always a wild child and full of life, she had expected maybe some scars or calluses. Maybe a tan from long days outside. Instead, they looked… soft and well manicured. No sign of rough usage or long healed injuries. The hands of someone who took their looks seriously, and stayed out of trouble. She realized she was staring and quickly looked down at what she was stirring as Chat Noir went to wash his hands.

The rest of the process was spent in companionable quiet and between the two of them all the dough was rolled and flattened in no time at all. Even with her distracted by his bare hands - she’d already been proven wrong twice about her long standing assumptions about him. What else could she have incorrectly assumed?

Once she set the pan in the oven, she asked, “So… want to play a game to pass the time?”

As expected, that got his interest. Though he tried to hide the excitement in his voice, she could see it in his eyes and by the swishing of his tail. “Sure! What did you have in mind?”

“Well, some sweetheart just got me some new sketchbooks, so I was thinking we could do kind of like a drawing charades? We draw something and the other person has to guess what it is. Every three correct answers and we’ll swap positions. Sound good?”

“Sounds purr-fect.” When she pushed the book over to him, he shook his head and pushed it back. “Host gets first turn. Even I know that rule.”

WIth the help of a random word generator, she began sketching the first object. She didn’t make it far from the symmetrical design before Chat Noir made his guess.

“Butterfly?” He grinned. “I’d rather leave work at work, if you don’t mind, Marinette.”

“Okay, fair enough. Butterfly was probably too easy a start. What about this…” She quickly jotted out an outline with four legs, whiskers, and a tail.

He snickered. “Really? Its a cat. No? What else could it - oh, a kitten.”

“Almost got you there, Chat. Can’t get too cocky. Last one before we switch.”

“Uhh, a circle. A pancake? No. Soup with sprinkles?” She looked at where he was hovering over her shoulder and raised her eyebrow. “What? It could happen. Cake with candles.” She gestured for him to continue. “...Oh! Birthday cake.”

“Good job. Now,” she passed the sketchbook and phone with the word generator to him, only now noticing how close he’d gotten, “Your turn.”

He took the offered pencil sheepishly. “Okay, just keep in mind I’m not as good at drawing as you.”

“And that’s part of the challenge for me.” She glanced at the clock. Still a while to go until the cookies were done. “Start when you’re ready.”

His first drawing was a crowd of people just barely above stick figure quality, but what tipped her off was how there was two bigger ones and a smaller one - which lead her to the correct guess of family. Next he made a long-sleeved shirt with surprisingly good detail. The two of them had gone through her fall clothing sketchbooks before. Was that where he learned to draw sweaters? The last one had been more abstract, but his little forest scene made more sense when he doodled wind and falling leaves. In hindsight, autumn should have been obvious.

“Alright, my turn again.” She hesitated for a moment before turning the page, savoring the little drawings Chat had made before starting her turn.

With only a single rectangle to go off of Chat Noir began guessing. “Box!” She added z’s coming off of it. “Tired box. Sleeping box. Bed!”

She took quick break to laugh before turning to him incredulously. “Sleeping box?!”

“I remembered the word eventually,” he grumbled. “Did I at least get it right?”

“No, but you’re close. Let’s see if this helps…” She drew another rectangle around the box and he finally got it.

“Oh! Pillow!”

She nodded and started work on her next drawing. It didn’t take long for him to figure out ‘gloves’, especially since she just copied his suit’s. Just as she reached for her phone to go for another round, she saw the time.

“Cookies should be done now, so that’s the end of the game.” She saw a brief look of disappointment on Chat Noir’s face. “Don’t worry, we can always play again some other time.”

“I’ll hold you to that. At least sugar cookies are a good reason to stop.” He took a deep breath as she took them out of the oven. “Ahhhh… delicious.”

She giggled, “You haven’t even had any!”

“Well, it’s a dupain-cheng baked good, so it goes without saying.”

“Such a flatterer.”

“I don’t hear you denying it.”

“And that’s because it’s true. Doesn’t make you any less of a flatterer for bringing it up.” She set the platter of cookies on the table. “Don’t eat all those while I’m gone. I’m going to scrounge up a bunch of pillows and blankets. Can you get ready to start the movies while I’m looking?”

“Sure.”

It took awhile for her to find where she’d stashed all of it. After all, it had been months, if not a full year since she’d needed to pull out extra pillows and blankets. Which made her stop and really think. Had it been so long since she’d had anyone stay over? She’d gotten into such an exhausting routine at work, she hadn’t even realized. By the time she came back, Chat Noir was lounging on her couch, eyes closed and hands behind his head. The television wasn’t even on, much less set up. She narrowed her eyes at him and walked towards him.

He cracked open one eye and grinned at her. “Hey, purrincess. Find everything- ack!” His sentence was cut off when she dumped everything onto him and jumped on top of it. “Hey! I was laying here!”

She coyly looked down at him, being sure to open her eyes in mock surprise. “Oh! Sorry. I must not have noticed you there.” She smiled sweetly at him. “I’m comfortable. Are you ready to watch some movies.”

“Ha ha, very funny. Get off and I’ll start them.”

She jumped off of him and while he was busy with the dvd player, Marinette unfolded the blankets and strategically placed some pillows while pulling up the table to put the cookies on. By the time he was done, she was under the blankets and holding them up for him. He slipped in after turning off the lights and their marathon began.

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

The light of the credits provided scant illumination for the room. Despite eating all the sugar cookies, the two of them were feeling drained after the long day and relaxing in front of the television. Marinette was barely able to keep her eyes open. She’d long since given up the struggle to sitting up straight and she was leaning against Chat Noir, her head was resting on his shoulder. As sleepy as she felt that she was, she knew that Chat was doing even worse, since he’d already nodded off a couple times during the last movie. She pulled herself away from Chat, only now noticing that his arm had snaked around her at some point during the last few hours. Stretching, she stood and gently nudged him.

“Chat? It’s pretty late and it doesn’t feel right to send you out when you’re this tired. You want to crash here?”

Yawning, he replied, “If that’s alright with you, yeah.”

“C’mon, I’ll show you to the guest room. Grab some of those pillows and blankets and make yourself comfortable.”

He shambled after her, only reluctantly still awake before collapsing onto the guest bed. No sooner had she closed the door than a flash of green light appeared under the door. Her heart fluttered for a moment - on the other side of the door was whoever Chat Noir actually was. She stood still for a few long heartbeats before his snoring broke her out of it.

“Goodnight, kitty,” she whispered before heading to bed herself.

[jenildasjewelquest]

for once, i’m not ranting.

I’m not waiting for the downfall either, when I say that things are actually turning out well.

part one: the org.

The warzone that used to be the college org that had pulled me in about a year ago, has become something like a congress or courthouse. It’s not yet a perfect democracy, but at least it’s no longer a one-man army. Maybe it’s just my war flashbacks - a term I’ve quite recently learned to call my officer initiatives as - talking, but I really am proud that it’s quickly coming to a close.

I authored 80% of a constitution, designed new branding schemes, appointed key bearers of the legacy, and hauled in the footholds for a well-connected and reputable college organization. In the end, I stumbled with the unfamiliarity of what I’ve achieved. I’ve grown so used to doing everything on my own that I almost forgot that I was leaving, that I should be training others to be as open to receiving new learnings as I had when I started out. For the younger ones, I’m the org mentor that I never had for myself.

It’s weird, it’s heart-expanding, it’s inspiring to see progress. And especially when you’ve been working for it all along.

But it hurts - just as much - to have to give it up, just as it teeters towards the peak of its greatness.

part two: the internship.

By luckiest stroke of fate, by some divine intervention, by some alignment of stars that still boggle me til now, I got into the best internship I think I could ever have signed up for.

I got into an IT consulting firm that specializes in UI/UX web and mobile development and design. Coding and UI, my unexplored specialties. My graphics design team are made up of UI/UX designers, and they allow me to learn their trade without being pressured to keep up with their standards. They were literally assisting me in coding my thesis website, but that wasn’t the best part.

The firm allowed for flexi-time, which meant I could clock in anytime in the work week as long as I got to finish at least eight hours. My supervisor always came around 10am-7pm, and I always arrived earlier and left later than him. I’m determined to do as much work as I can for the whole day; I can almost go 12 hours with minor breaks and coffee lmao.

The supervisor is an alumni of my course. He had taken his college life easier than me, and him being like that allowed me to think that hey, even if you don’t graduate this school at the top, you can still get by if you have the guts and the grit. And that’s what I’m developing right now. I occasionally ask for time off work to attend to org duties and thesis emergencies, but I still do deliver for the internship. Yep, while senior high taught me that I had a voice, college taught me how to use it and use it well.

part three: the thesis.

I know where to use my voice for: to talk about what no one does. My undergraduate thesis talks about civics education: the umbrella concept for how people are taught about politics, society, and democracy. It’s a personal advocacy that stemmed from questions about nationalism and patriotism, from reading about history surrounding Rizal, and being immersed in the novels themselves. Writer as I am, I simply can’t help the latter.

The multimedia thesis a print card game about Rizal’s civic activities, that aims to teach civics education to Grade 10 students. Paperwork and pre-production almost done, this iteration is down to the last few tweaks until we can squeak past proofreading, user testing, and market testing.

For the record, I myself stressed over the website for the last few weeks that not only had the UI/UX designers at the internship had stepped in and offered some tips, but that I seriously had to take days off work just to finish it. When I finally eked out half, my thesis adviser said that I should have focused on the game instead, since the website was only a marketing tool. Within that same day, I churned out all 63 cards (one still had its illustration underway) out of 2 ginormous PSD files, ready for proofreading and printing. The night burned me out quite bad, but at least that load quickly finished... 

part four: the story.

Coupled within the week, a good friend had asked help for his animation thesis, which was an advocacy story he was to animate in VR. I’d promised my help long ago, and I delivered: a five-page draft script, complete with concrete visualizations and directions of how he’ll execute it in VR.

I couldn’t have been prouder of this collab. I’ve always wanted to be a story artist - someone who visualizes stories and writes them as well - the only thing holding me back is my lack of experience in drawing for animation aka my degree. I could be helping all his classmates with their animation stories, he says, with how much I’m able to use film techniques, symbolisms, dialogues, and colors to fully execute his VR animated story. My degree is siphoning me into the ad industry, but in this collab, I learned what it’s like to be the visual director, the story artist. Not only was it fun, it was actually really fulfilling to be able to write with animation!

The collab also demonstrated that two people - in all their differences and similarities - can still be on equal ground if they work together. This collab taught me what it truly means to be loyal, to have each other’s back not out of duty or responsibility but because you chose to learn when you chose to stay. 

part five: the burnout.

The weekend after demanded at least 12 hours of sleep and mug of warm milk, and ton of chocolate. The burnout was real. My head was ringing from the online calls for the animation thesis, among other things; I was in no mood to do org work nor house chores, not even to draw, write a poem, or squeeze out a chapter. I was tired, physically, mentally.

But emotionally, I was satisfied.

For once, I was satisfied with my week.

Not only with my week, but everything that led up to that. The org. The internship. The thesis. My staying. Everything.

My college life is coming to a close. My time to understand everything, before twenty hits, is fast ending. For once I’m not regretting, for once, I’m not mad.

For once, I’m no longer ranting.