#the bad news is I still can't figure shit out :P

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 6, day 15

Two more materials tonight! Distressed copper and soap bubbles :)

I'm not sure why the soap bubbles are so green, but I'm using a newer version of Blender than the guy in the tutorial so I think how the nodes work is slightly different. It also affected the copper but I figured out how to work with that particular change. Couldn't figure out the deal with the bubbles though lol

[mostlysignssomeportents]

What the fuck is a PBM?

TOMORROW (Sept 24), I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

Terminal-stage capitalism owes its long senescence to its many defensive mechanisms, and it's only by defeating these that we can put it out of its misery. "The Shield of Boringness" is one of the necrocapitalist's most effective defenses, so it behooves us to attack it head-on.

The Shield of Boringness is Dana Claire's extremely useful term for anything so dull that you simply can't hold any conception of it in your mind for any length of time. In the finance sector, they call this "MEGO," which stands for "My Eyes Glaze Over," a term of art for financial arrangements made so performatively complex that only the most exquisitely melted brain-geniuses can hope to unravel their spaghetti logic. The rest of us are meant to simply heft those thick, dense prospectuses in two hands, shrug, and assume, "a pile of shit this big must have a pony under it."

MEGO and its Shield of Boringness are key to all of terminal-stage capitalism's stupidest scams. Cloaking obvious swindles in a lot of complex language and Byzantine payment schemes can make them seem respectable just long enough for the scammers to relieve you of all your inconvenient cash and assets, though, eventually, you're bound to notice that something is missing.

If you spent the years leading up to the Great Financial Crisis baffled by "CDOs," "synthetic CDOs," "ARMs" and other swindler nonsense, you experienced the Shield of Boringness. If you bet your house and/or your retirement savings on these things, you experienced MEGO. If, after the bubble popped, you finally came to understand that these "exotic financial instruments" were just scams, you experienced Stein's Law ("anything that can't go forever eventually stops"). If today you no longer remember what a CDO is, you are once again experiencing the Shield of Boringness.

As bad as 2008 was, it wasn't even close to the end of terminal stage capitalism. The market has soldiered on, with complex swindles like carbon offset trading, metaverse, cryptocurrency, financialized solar installation, and (of course) AI. In addition to these new swindles, we're still playing the hits, finding new ways to make the worst scams of the 2000s even worse.

That brings me to the American health industry, and the absurdly complex, ridiculously corrupt Pharmacy Benefit Managers (PBMs), a pathology that has only metastasized since 2008.

On at least 20 separate occasions, I have taken it upon myself to figure out how the PBM swindle works, and nevertheless, every time they come up, I have to go back and figure it out again, because PBMs have the most powerful Shield of Boringness out of the whole Monster Manual of terminal-stage capitalism's trash mobs.

PBMs are back in the news because the FTC is now suing the largest of these for their role in ripping off diabetics with sky-high insulin prices. This has kicked off a fresh round of "what the fuck is a PBM, anyway?" explainers of extremely variable quality. Unsurprisingly, the best of these comes from Matt Stoller:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/monopoly-round-up-lina-khan-pharma

Stoller starts by pointing out that Americans have a proud tradition of getting phucked by pharma companies. As far back as the 1950s, Tennessee Senator Estes Kefauver was holding hearings on the scams that pharma companies were using to ensure that Americans paid more for their pills than virtually anyone else in the world.

But since the 2010s, Americans have found themselves paying eye-popping, sky-high, ridiculous drug prices. Eli Lilly's Humolog insulin sold for $21 in 1999; by 2017, the price was $274 – a 1,200% increase! This isn't your grampa's price gouging!

Where do these absurd prices come from? The story starts in the 2000s, when the GW Bush administration encouraged health insurers to create "high deductible" plans, where patients were expected to pay out of pocket for receiving care, until they hit a multi-thousand-dollar threshold, and then their insurance would kick in. Along with "co-pays" and other junk fees, these deductibles were called "cost sharing," and they were sold as a way to prevent the "abuse" of the health care system.

The economists who crafted terminal-stage capitalism's intellectual rationalizations claimed the reason Americans paid so much more for health care than their socialized-medicine using cousins in the rest of the world had nothing to do with the fact that America treats health as a source of profits, while the rest of the world treats health as a human right.

No, the actual root of America's health industry's problems was the moral defects of Americans. Because insured Americans could just go see the doctor whenever they felt like it, they had no incentive to minimize their use of the system. Any time one of these unhinged hypochondriacs got a little sniffle, they could treat themselves to a doctor's visit, enjoying those waiting-room magazines and the pleasure of arranging a sick day with HR, without bearing any of the true costs:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/27/the-doctrine-of-moral-hazard/

"Cost sharing" was supposed to create "skin in the game" for every insured American, creating a little pain-point that stung you every time you thought about treating yourself to a luxurious doctor's visit. Now, these payments bit hardest on the poorest workers, because if you're making minimum wage, at $10 co-pay hurts a lot more than it does if you're making six figures. What's more, VPs and the C-suite were offered "gold-plated" plans with low/no deductibles or co-pays, because executives understand the value of a dollar in the way that mere working slobs can't ever hope to comprehend. They can be trusted to only use the doctor when it's truly warranted.

So now you have these high-deductible plans creeping into every workplace. Then along comes Obama and the Affordable Care Act, a compromise that maintains health care as a for-profit enterprise (still not a human right!) but seeks to create universal coverage by requiring every American to buy a plan, requiring insurers to offer plans to every American, and uses public money to subsidize the for-profit health industry to glue it together.

Predictably, the cheapest insurance offered on the Obamacare exchanges – and ultimately, by employers – had sky-high deductibles and co-pays. That way, insurers could pocket a fat public subsidy, offer an "insurance" plan that was cheap enough for even the most marginally employed people to afford, but still offer no coverage until their customers had spent thousands of dollars out-of-pocket in a given year.

That's the background: GWB created high-deductible plans, Obama supercharged them. Keep that in your mind as we go through the MEGO procedures of the PBM sector.

Your insurer has a list of drugs they'll cover, called the "formulary." The formulary also specifies how much the insurance company is willing to pay your pharmacist for these drugs. Creating the formulary and paying pharmacies for dispensing drugs is a lot of tedious work, and insurance outsources this to third parties, called – wait for it – Pharmacy Benefits Managers.

The prices in the formulary the PBM prepares for your insurance company are called the "list prices." These are meant to represent the "sticker price" of the drug, what a pharmacist would charge you if you wandered in off the street with no insurance, but somehow in possession of a valid prescription.

But, as Stoller writes, these "list prices" aren't actually ever charged to anyone. The list price is like the "full price" on the pricetags at a discount furniture place where everything is always "on sale" at 50% off – and whose semi-disposable sofas and balsa-wood dining room chairs are never actually sold at full price.

One theoretical advantage of a PBM is that it can get lower prices because it bargains for all the people in a given insurer's plan. If you're the pharma giant Sanofi and you want your Lantus insulin to be available to any of the people who must use OptumRX's formulary, you have to convince OptumRX to include you in that formulary.

OptumRX – like all PBMs – demands "rebates" from pharma companies if they want to be included in the formulary. On its face, this is similar to the practices of, say, NICE – the UK agency that bargains for medicine on behalf of the NHS, which also bargains with pharma companies for access to everyone in the UK and gets very good deals as a result.

But OptumRX doesn't bargain for a lower list price. They bargain for a bigger rebate. That means that the "price" is still very high, but OptumRX ends up paying a tiny fraction of it, thanks to that rebate. In the OptumRX formulary, Lantus insulin lists for $403. But Sanofi, who make Lantus, rebate $339 of that to OptumRX, leaving just $64 for Lantus.

Here's where the scam hits. Your insurer charges you a deductible based on the list price – $404 – not on the $64 that OptumRX actually pays for your insulin. If you're in a high-deductible plan and you haven't met your cap yet, you're going to pay $404 for your insulin, even though the actual price for it is $64.

Now, you'd think that your insurer would put a stop to this. They chose the PBM, the PBM is ripping off their customers, so it's their job to smack the PBM around and make it cut this shit out. So why would the insurers tolerate this nonsense?

Here's why: the PBMs are divisions of the big health insurance companies. Unitedhealth owns OptumRx; Aetna owns Caremark, and Cigna owns Expressscripts. So it's not the PBM that's ripping you off, it's your own insurance company. They're not just making you pay for drugs that you're supposedly covered for – they're pocketing the deductible you pay for those drugs.

Now, there's one more entity with power over the PBM that you'd hope would step in on your behalf: your boss. After all, your employer is the entity that actually chooses the insurer and negotiates with them on your behalf. Your boss is in the driver's seat; you're just along for the ride.

It would be pretty funny if the answer to this was that the health insurance company bought your employer, too, and so your boss, the PBM and the insurer were all the same guy, busily swapping hats, paying for a call center full of tormented drones who each have three phones on their desks: one labeled "insurer"; the second, "PBM" and the final one "HR."

But no, the insurers haven't bought out the company you work for (yet). Rather, they've bought off your boss – they're sharing kickbacks with your employer for all the deductibles and co-pays you're being suckered into paying. There's so much money (your money) sloshing around in the PBM scamoverse that anytime someone might get in the way of you being ripped off, they just get cut in for a share of the loot.

That is how the PBM scam works: they're fronts for health insurers who exploit the existence of high-deductible plans in order to get huge kickbacks from pharma makers, and massive fees from you. They split the loot with your boss, whose payout goes up when you get screwed harder.

But wait, there's more! After all, Big Pharma isn't some kind of easily pushed-around weakling. They're big. Why don't they push back against these massive rebates? Because they can afford to pay bribes and smaller companies making cheaper drugs can't. Whether it's a little biotech upstart with a cheaper molecule, or a generics maker who's producing drugs at a fraction of the list price, they just don't have the giant cash reserves it takes to buy their way into the PBMs' formularies. Doubtless, the Big Pharma companies would prefer to pay smaller kickbacks, but from Big Pharma's perspective, the optimum amount of bribes extracted by a PBM isn't zero – far from it. For Big Pharma, the optimal number is one cent higher than "the maximum amount of bribes that a smaller company can afford."

The purpose of a system is what it does. The PBM system makes sure that Americans only have access to the most expensive drugs, and that they pay the highest possible prices for them, and this enriches both insurance companies and employers, while protecting the Big Pharma cartel from upstarts.

Which is why the FTC is suing the PBMs for price-fixing. As Stoller points out, they're using their powers under Section 5 of the FTC Act here, which allows them to shut down "unfair methods of competition":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

The case will be adjudicated by an administrative law judge, in a process that's much faster than a federal court case. Once the FTC proves that the PBM scam is illegal when applied to insulin, they'll have a much easier time attacking the scam when it comes to every other drug (the insulin scam has just about run its course, with federally mandated $35 insulin coming online, just as a generation of post-insulin diabetes treatments hit the market).

Obviously the PBMs aren't taking this lying down. Cigna/Expressscripts has actually sued the FTC for libel over the market study it conducted, in which the agency described in pitiless, factual detail how Cigna was ripping us all off. The case is being fought by a low-level Reagan-era monster named Rick Rule, whom Stoller characterizes as a guy who "hangs around in bars and picks up lonely multi-national corporations" (!!).

The libel claim is a nonstarter, but it's still wild. It's like one of those movies where they want to show you how bad the cockroaches are, so there's a bit where the exterminator shows up and the roaches form a chorus line and do a kind of Busby Berkeley number:

https://www.46brooklyn.com/news/2024-09-20-the-carlton-report

So here we are: the FTC has set out to euthanize some rentiers, ridding the world of a layer of useless economic middlemen whose sole reason for existing is to make pharmaceuticals as expensive as possible, by colluding with the pharma cartel, the insurance cartel and your boss. This conspiracy exists in plain sight, hidden by the Shield of Boringness. If I've done my job, you now understand how this MEGO scam works – and if you forget all that ten minutes later (as is likely, given the nature of MEGO), that's OK: just remember that this thing is a giant fucking scam, and if you ever need to refresh yourself on the details, you can always re-read this post.

The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this month!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/23/shield-of-boringness/#some-men-rob-you-with-a-fountain-pen

Image: Flying Logos (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Over_$1,000,000_dollars_in_USD_$100_bill_stacks.png

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[echobx]

not my type 4 - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader

summary: y/n has to go work in the OBX a yearafter she last saw Rafe and things take their turns...

warnings: fluff, smut (p in v (unprotected))

word count: 2.5k

author's note: I'm not a fan of what I did here and I wouldn't even feel bad if y'all hated me for it bc it's just shit in my eyes, but I also don't have the capacity to change it or write it anew but I also didn't wanna leave it unfinished. that's all.

masterlist part 3

You don't want to move to the OBX, but it's what your father expects of you and it's a promotion. You'll be in charge of the division, hiring new brokers, taking care of business. It’s a huge step forward from all the number pushing you had to do the last year since Florida was opened.  But, just like you predicted, it had been worth it, and now you're supposed to actually bring in good numbers from the island strip.  And on top of that, you are sure that you're over him. A whole year is a long time after all. 

“And the beach is just gorgeous,” you tell your friend Parker, who helped you move. You're both standing in the new office building, looking out of a window, not noticing Rafe's approaching behind you.  “That wholly depends on what side of the island you're on,” Rafe comments, and you turn around to look at him. His polo shirt hugs his muscles perfectly and the shorts sit a bit low. It's in stark contrast to the very formal rosé colored suit you're wearing.  But the worst part of it is that your heart starts fluttering just a little when his blue eyes rake over you.  “We'll find out soon enough,” you hit him back and take Parker's hand, intertwining your fingers, and to your own luck he just goes with it. You had been friends for too long for him to question your moves, and he also knew way too much about what had happened between Rafe and you.  “Good,” Rafe smiles and turns to walk into his office.  “Okay, y/n/n, I get it, but you're also crushing my hand,” Parker laughs lightly, and you let go of him.  “I'm gonna be so okay. Yes. I'll just be okay. Right?” you tell yourself and walk into your office to set it up. 

When you go out for lunch, Rafe simply joins you uninvited. You focus on Parker, on pretending that you're with him, not just because you have to keep your mind from slipping to Rafe. But mostly because you want to know if he's going to be jealous.  And from the way his jaw clenches when you kiss Parker's cheek, it seems to be working. 

However, it's only working for a week, because your friend has to go back home and the moment he's gone you jump headfirst into work. If you won't let your mind rest, it can't think of Rafe. That's your strategy.  It's a flawed one though, because after three weeks of excessive paperwork and hiring new staff, you find your desk empty, nothing left to do. At least not enough to keep you occupied for more than a few hours each day. 

“There's an issue with the Campbell property,” Rafe says while walking into your office, not having knocked. “I thought you might want to look at it before I make a decision.” He hands you the papers, and you look over it, but you can't find any mistakes on it.  “And what's your verdict?” you ask, hoping that it'll help you figure out what might be wrong, because even after reading the notes a third time, you still can't find the problem.  “You work too much,” he shrugs and you drop the paper.  “What?”  “Nothing. It's a numbers issue, see,” Rafe points at the yard size. “They say it's 0.7 acres, but it's actually just below 0.6 acres.” “How do you know that?” “Because I've been to that house. Do you want to risk us getting sued?” he cocks his brow up and you sigh.  “I'll send Darryl to measure it out. Anything else?”  “Your boyfriend isn't around as much as I thought he'd be.” Rafe lets his fingers run over the glass of your desk, and you bite the inside of your cheek to not smile. The small glimpse of jealousy makes your heart skip a beat. It's stupid, really, because you don't know each other, you shouldn't feel like that for a guy you had slept with twice over a year ago. And yet, you still did.  “Parker has his work, and I have mine,” you smile politely.  “I see. Well, the Campbell thing,” Rafe notes before walking out again, and your heart is still pounding like crazy after the small interaction. 

You keep working, trying to keep your distance and he does the same. Only talking when it's really necessary to keep the office out of the reds.  You don't notice that he keeps eyeing you when you're not looking, that he makes sure that the kitchen is always stocked with your favorite snack. And you don't know that he notices how the small packets only ever go missing when you have a rough day or had an unplanned call from your father. And that you dress more so provocatively when you have a showing than when it's just an office day. Or how you strip off your heels when you sit at your desk for more than five minutes. He picks up on all of your little antics, and he doesn't even want to, he's over it just as much as you, but he can't help it either. 

And for the brokers open two months after your start in the OBX he makes sure that the caterer has a non-seafood option alongside the tiny lobster rolls and crab cakes. Because he knows you don't eat it, and he wants to get on your good side again, although he's aware that food won't be the way to do it. 

“Old fashioned?” Rafe holds the glass out for you, and you take it with a hushed “thank you.” “That's what you had the-”  “I remember,” you look up at him, his hair is cut back to a buzz cut, and you don't know if you like it as much. It does accentuate his features though, which isn't a bad thing at all. The sharp nose and high cheekbones, the crooked smile he always greets you with- No, you can't let yourself think of him again. It was hard enough as is, to survive living and working so close to him.  “You look good,” Rafe nods at you, and you don't know what to reply. The short black dress is showing off more than you intended to, but your best friend Claire convinced you to put it on anyway when you called her earlier that day.  “Uhm… thanks,” you mumble and let your eyes run over him, half buttoned shirt and suit pants. He hadn't dressed up at all and the fact that he didn't need to, and your heart was still racing, was speaking volumes. “You clean up nice too,” you tell him and look away again. 

You try mingling, networking a little and gossiping a little less. But when you overhear a broker from a different brokerage talk about Rafe you simply can't stop yourself. The words coming out of her mouth won't add up to the Rafe you know and try to hate.  She talks about dark escapades and less intriguing things but follows them up with a harsh comment on his person. Maybe she is jealous, you choose to believe that rather than what she keeps talking about. There's nothing less believable than all the atrocious things she mentions and yet when you look at yourself in the mirror of the restroom later that night, you think it doesn't matter. Everyone has a past after all.  “He's not like that anymore, right?” you ask yourself quietly after freshening up your lipstick. 

You see Rafe standing at the side, not wanting to talk to anyone, and you start to realize why. You start to understand why he never ate lunch in the kitchen with you or the team.  “Networking is part of the job,” you remind him while placing yourself next to him.  “Not with this folk,” he replies dryly.  “You shouldn't care what they say.” You look up at him and meet his gaze.  “I don't. Do you?”  “I don't think it's possible to do this job if you're not a stone-cold killer at heart.”  He flinches at your wording but he nods. “Are you?”  “Have to.”  “You don't though,” he seems almost sorry, but he turns away again, nipping on his drink.  “Didn't get a choice much,” you mumble absentmindedly. 

“Contradictory,” Rafe huffs a laugh.  “What?”  “You. It's contradictory. You saying you didn't get a choice after telling me you made the choice freely,” he looks at you again, eyes scanning your face.  “Didn’t think you'd remember,” you mutter and turn around, wanting nothing more than to vanish into thin air, but his hand shoots out to grasp your wrist.  “Don't go, please.”  “Why?” you turn around to look at him sternly. “I'm sorry, about all of it,” he apologizes, and let's go again.  “I'm over it,” you lie.  “You're really not,” he whispers and steps closer. “And it's my fault, all of it. I'm sorry, sugar.” 

“Are the stories true? The shit they talk about you behind your back?” you ask and he nods.  “Okay,” you say and he furrows his brows.  “You don't care?”  “Not really. I mean, that was then and now is now. I know the crazy shit people do when they're high,” you shrug, and he looks a bit confused. “And the daddy issues on top of that. I mean, I get it. We've both got our fair share of daddy issues, right?”  “Right,” Rafe drags out the word, he truly didn't expect you to not care about it at all. If anything, he thought you might run again, and the fact that you don't is confusing him.  “Do you wanna get out of here and get hammered?” you whisper, and a grin spreads on your face when he takes your hand and pulls you away. 

That's how you find yourself bent over your own desk, mind hazy and a moaning mess as he fucks you.  “Too much,” you cry but Rafe just laughs. “I know you can take it, baby.” And you know he's right, but you love to be told over and over again.  “You're so good to me. So tight, sugar.”  “Gonna cum,” you moan, and he stops, pulls out and makes you turn around.  “Sit up, pretty girl, and look at me.” You follow the order, sitting up and moving to the very edge of the table before he pulls your legs over his shoulders and enters you again. 

His hand presses down on your stomach and you groan. It's all too much, and he's making it worse, moving to press on your clit with his thumb before drawing harsh circles and your eyes roll back in response.  “Cum for me, baby,” he rasps into a kiss, biting down on your bottom lip when your orgasm rips through you, squeezing him so hard that he can't hold it in anymore and shoots his hot cum into your pulsating core. “Fuck, you're perfect. So hot. Missed you so much,” Rafe pants, still buried deep inside of you and not ready to actually let go.  “Forgot how big it was,” you whisper and feel him twitching inside you. It’s just a silly little note, but it's all he needed to get hard again and fuck you again, not caring about the mess you were making. 

“Bet he's not fucking you like that,” Rafe pants, and you don't know what he's talking about, but you let it slide, too focused on the pleasure he was giving you.  “Mine. All mine,” he rambled, lips attached to your neck, nipping at the skin and leaving a plethora of open-mouthed kisses on it.  “Yours, daddy. All yours,” you moan and hold onto him tighter, pressing yourself against him to try to force him into you deeper.  “Soak me, pretty,” he breathes against your lips, one hand holding your jaw, the other between your legs, rubbing your clit. And his blue eyes are barely visible as he stares into yours.  “Make me,” you hush but scream when he pinches your clit before rubbing it again.  “Don't be a brat, sugar. Come on. Soak daddy's dick,” he grins, drops of sweat running down his toned body, and you swear you'd lick him clean all over if he let you. And when his tongue once again entangles with yours, your eyes roll back and your legs tremble. Screaming at the high he managed to give you and far past it as he fucks you through it and empties his load into you for the second time. 

And the next few weeks you spend the same, pretending like nothing happened while letting him fuck you every single night. You don't want to talk about all the things that you should clearly talk about.  Like the fact that he still believes that you have a boyfriend up in New York, or that he keeps staying longer until he falls asleep next to you, and you don't have the heart to kick him out.  But you groan when you wake up and see him try to get ready as quietly as he can. 

“What are you doing?”  “Didn't mean to wake you, sugar,” Rafe apologizes and leans over you, placing a kiss on your lips.  “Don't go,” you whisper as he hovers over you. “I don't want you to go.”  “Are you sure?” he asks and you nod again. It takes him less than ten seconds to strip himself of his pants and jump back into bed. 

Your head is nuzzled into his neck while you hold onto him, somewhat scared that'll it's just a dream.  “I think you should break up with your boyfriend,” Rafe mumbles.  “Boyfriend?” you pull away with furrowed brows.  “Yeah. Not really fair to him. Not really fair to us,” he doesn't look at you as he says it.  “Us?” It's not that the term itself is confusing to you, but more so the fact that it's coming from him. That he's saying it so casually.  “Yeah. If you didn't have that Parker guy, I could actually take you out, show you off,” he whispers and finally lowers his eyes to see your awestruck face. “What?” 

“You want to date me?”  “I would yes. Is that hard to believe?”  “I'm me, and you're… you,” you answer, but he just kisses you, hoping to smother all your doubts with it. 

“Rafe?” you whisper and he nods. “Parker isn't my boyfriend, I just wanted to make you jealous,” you admit with a whisper and to your surprise he starts laughing. “What's so funny?”  “I didn't even think of that,” he laughs and starts plastering you in kisses. “So smart. So perfect. So pretty,” he says in between kisses.  “Do you really think so?” you ask, and he nods repeatedly, a smile playing on his lips.  “You're so beautiful, y/n.”  “Okay,” you blush and try to hide under the sheets, but he pulls them down to kiss you again and again, and you don't think he'd ever want to stop, and you wouldn't tell him to either. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @drwstarkeyy @notdxbya @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @julczimozart

[phantomrose96]

Yknow I don't think I've... talked about the absolute smorgasbord of shit what's gone wrong with my condo since I moved in so

day 0 - hadn't moved in yet, was just moving items over, turned the sink on for just a moment. turns out the tube feeding into the sink faucet was full of holes (how???) and this caused a never-ending leak under the sink. the standing water rotted the baseboard under the sink

still day 0 - said leak and water accrual dripped down and damaged downstairs neighbor's ceiling ($$$). she has to call me to tell me about it.

I have to get a plumber out there next day (still not living there yet! empty place! I have to take off work). While waiting for plumber, I discover heat's not working.

Go to basement to investigate boiler. Seller didn't fix the issue they claimed they fixed.

Plumber looks at sink. Declares it full of holes. Says he can come back in a few days to fix it.

(Plumber postpones, then flakes. I chase down a different plumber.)

Plumber 2 says the issue is with the garbage disposal, not the faucet. Can come back x days later to work on that, and the boiler.

Plumber 2 comes back x days later (I have to take off work again), says "oh the disposal was messed up but also the faucet has holes." Says he can come back maybe the NEXT day with a new faucet

Oh also the smoke detector in the back hall is low battery beeping and I don't have a battery for it. It's constant, every minute on the minute.

I bike to a hardware store and buy a faucet and a battery ($$). Get lost on the way home. (All of this back and forth is by bike. I live in the city and do not have a car.)

Plumber replaces the faucet ($$). I replace the smoke detector battery but it's still beeping. Dozens of more stupid minutes later of going up and down and up and down stairs and dragging my big stupid ladder around, I realize it's the carbon monoxide detector which is hidden behind the door I need to open to even get to the back hallway.

Plumber services the boiler ($$$)

I move in. I have a less than great time emptying everything from my apartment, which doesn't have plumbing issues. On a bad foot to start.

Travel for Christmas. Come back. Now the first floor back-hall smoke detector is beeping. (At least I have a fucking battery. Get my big stupid ladder down the back hall, knock every wall on the way down, and replace that battery).

I get first month's heating bill (I'd been living there for 10 days if even.) $334. Jesus christ. Likely due to the boiler issue.

Electricity goes out for the evening, same day as I get this bill from the gas and electric company, because fuck you I guess.

Homeowners insurance log in doesn't work. I haven't received my bill, which I need to pay.

Radiators bang in the middle of the night. Something something about them being old or not level or full of ghosts. Cool I don't need to sleep or whatever.

I've received no correspondence from the bank about my first mortgage payment. It'll be due Jan 1st, which is a holiday, so I reach out early. They say it's in the mail.

I monitor my mail every day. I receive no mail. I contact again. I reach out to my old apartment building in case it's there (they can't tell me). I sign up for a bank account with them online. I jump through various hoops to discover the bank has my address wrong. The address of the place the mortgage is on...

They had the mortgage address right. They had my home address as identical to the mortgage address but with one number missing. No one noticed. They'd been sending my stuff to a non-existent address, or the back of a college warehouse, I haven't quite figured it out.

I jump through more hoops to pay my mortgage payment with a check in the mail (I had to go buy stamps and an envelope) (late, but they assure me there's no penalty, but are you sure.)

^This has all been about 2 weeks. btw.

(I get a therapist, and find my way to being seen by a psychiatrist, which I guess is good but jesus is it $$$. Still figuring out how to use my stupid HSA)

People on floor 1 move out. They've got contractors in constantly renovating the place top to bottom. I get all their paint fumes.

Sound proofing doesn't exist, turns out. I hear my downstairs neighbors' conversations. I hear their tv. I hear street conversations. One night it was pouring rain and I was woken up by the sound of something banging against the house. Like genuinely banging. I go outside and investigate - it's a car idling with their windshield wipers going. Windshield wipers. Why would that be audible. Walls made of paper.

Floor 1 contactors leave the back door open one night. Luckily I wasn't storing anything in the back hall and had the door to my interior locked.

I receive my next month's heating bill. $689. I call the gas company and they shrug. I call the plumber and he shrugs. I turn the heat way down cuz I don't know. I dunno. Something's wrong with the boiler but it just got serviced so I dunno. I have to call someone else.

Speak of the devil, cones appear immediately outside my building declaring there's going to be gas line work. For a month. They start with the jackhammers at 8am every weekday. It's gonna be a month. I miss the windshield wipers.

We have a weekend of arctic freeze. -30F windchill. I go down to the basement Sunday morning to do laundry. Floor 1 contractors have outdone themselves by leaving a window open. Pipe had burst in floor 1 and was pouring water down into the basement, totally flooded.

I have to call the plumber, and flag the Floor 2 people about it and they at least find the master water shutoff. I'm dealing with the plumber and I have no water for half the day and no laundry for me.

I want to lie down in a marsh for a bit.

[vampshxde]

I Think I Can Love You

P.1, P.2, P.3

P.4 is here!!

It's honestly been so long, yet no contact from Katsuki. You've been talking to Izuku as much as you can, but he's very busy. If Izuku can barely text, then it makes sense that Katsuki can't. As Izuku is only a helping hand, Katsuki is the real deal pro hero. You've seen stuff talking about him. Radio shows, Magazines, the News, all that stuff. Once you'd never seen him anywhere, and suddenly he's everywhere. Every corner you turn his face is somewhere. Sometimes you sit on your bed, waiting for a message to appear. Why do you want to hear from him so much? Well this was until you did actually get a message from him 3 months later.

- "Hey fucking nerd."

- "Katsuki?"

- "No shit."

- "Did you need something?"

- "I ain't allowed to text you without needing sum?"

- "Nono, it's just been 3 months. So."

- "Yeah whatever. Let's hang out or some shit. I took a couple of days off."

- "Okay, just send me the details when you figure out when you wanna meet up."

Well, he didn't exactly give you a choice. Maybe this is progress in an upcoming friendship? Well, whatever it is, you're not complaining. The worst part about it? You liked him. You fell hard and fast for the alluring Katsuki Bakugou in middle school. He was such a dick. Yet you wanted him so bad back then. Seeing him again really spiked your stomach once more. A vacant expression appeared on your face as you looked at your phone to see another message from Katsuki. The time and place of when to meet up with him. As well as which day.

That day was tomorrow, which came quite quickly. You were honestly half-expecting Izuku to be there as well, yknow? That Izuku had convinced him to ask this time. However, it was just him. He asked you to meet him at this park bench. The park was empty. It had a soft fog to it. It took you a second to have even found the bench, but when you did, you stood slightly in front of him. He looked up at you. Such a familiar glare in his eyes that you took comfort in loving so long ago.

"Hey, Nerd." His glare turned softer. Not much softer, but it felt so fake. Too fake. Something such a gorgeous sight in the gloomy park area. "Hey, Katsuki." You felt a smile creep up on your face. Why. Why couldn't this be tense like the cafe talk. It's so.. euphoric. He stood up. It was such a close space between you. Well, until you backed up, awkwardly. He didn't seem to notice the slight backing up, and even if he did, he wouldn't care. He just began walking a path.

"Keep up, Nerd." He spoke up, yet not looking back. You took a second to process what he said and did before slightly jogging to catch up to him. Walking beside him. "Why'd you want to hang out?" You glanced slightly towards his direction, but your eyes still watched your own feet. "You were one of the only extras who I know isn't busy."

"Okay, owch. Way to make a girl feel special, Bakugo." Your eyes followed up to look at his face, but he was already watching your eyes. "Katsuki." He mumbled slightly. "Hm?" You hummed confused. "Call me Katsuki." He nodded slightly, and you nodded in agreement. "Okay, Katsuki."

See, I had the heart and mind to have made it, so this was a dream, be happy it isn't

Tag List: (ask to be in it in comments)

-

574 Words

@sukunasbottomlefteyeball @d4n1elll4

[medicinal-doll]

Mr.America.

Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: You love your new job but a certain team member just rubs you the wrong way.maybe you're wrong about him.

Warnings:Dub-con/Non-con,Dom/sub dynamic,fingering,p in v sex, slight dacryphilia degrading,slight mind-break,choking,hair pulling,spanking, manipulation, rough sex,

A/N: If you wanna skip to the smut I marked it with three dotted lines

*Please don't repost without permission If you use my writing as inspiration please ask first and credit me

.......

You've been employed at stark industries for some time now, and you love your job. Though it is an office job there's never a dull moment.You get sneak peeks at all the latest technology and sometimes you get to take stuff home.

You love all your coworkers. And in such a short time you've moved up so much that you even have encounters with some of the avengers.

But there is one small thing about the job that unsettles you from time to time.

That man....

America's golden boy and everyone's favorite hero.The prime example of american patriotism and justice.

Steve Rogers

Everyone at the office seems to love him.They practically worship the ground he walks on.I mean who wouldn't given who he is, and ideally you would too.

It's just that... he's so fucking creepy.

Clearly you're seeing something that no one else is. Because everyone else just eats his charisma up.

But it's the way he stands a little too close, his posture allowing him to tower over you.It's the way his gaze lingers on you just a little to long.

It's small gestures like those that just give you the heebie jeebies.

Hence why you avoid him like the plague.

Sadly, he still finds just the right loophole to effortlessly insert himself into your personal space. Undetected by the suspicion of others.

..........

Tony gave one of his usual speeches to the entire staff celebrating the month's accomplishments.

These speeches are always followed by an after party. At stark industries only higher up members are allowed. So the guests mostly consist of your coworkers and the avengers.

"You, backroom now" Tony says as he passes you by.

This isn't uncommon. Tony knows you can keep a secret.So he uses your ears as a vice for his many- many complaints and rants.

But, that's where he keeps the good alcohol so you don't mind all that much.

...........

Sat in the room you wait for Tony. But when he comes in there's someone else tailing him.

The familiar blonde and brunette locs fill your vision and your body tenses.

Steve notices you instantly and his eyes light up.

....

His presence albeit annoying, was mostly tolerable due to the fact that your attention was mostly focused on Tony's drunk rambling about some uptight board members.

The evening was going quite well. Until his cellphone rang.

"Shit gotta be out for a sec" Tony stands eager to make a quick exit.

"I trust you two can keep each other company" he winks.

Stark leaves the room and then there's silence.

It's barely been 5 minutes since stark left and you already feel his eyes on you. He's blatantly looking and what's even more disgusting is that he's not even trying to hide it.

"I know I make you uncomfortable"

You turn your head and look at him, slightly thrown off by his statement.

"Call me dumb but I can't figure out what I did to make you feel that way"

"Call it a hunch" you think silently to yourself.

"I thought that if I spent enough time with you"

"Or if I was nice enough you'd see I'm not all that bad but..."

He chuckles pitifully to himself.

"you don't have to worry anymore I get the hint"

He slowly stands centering his muscular frame.

"I'll leave you alone from now on"

Steve heads towards the door not even sparing you a second glance.

"goodnight enjoy the rest of your evening" he says with a smile then turns to leave.

Shit, you hate that you feel bad. You couldn't even make A case against him he hasn't done anything wrong.Any sane person would say you're just being an asshole.

And in the end you caved.

"Steve wait-"

He stops and you both lock eyes the faintest hint of a smile dusting his lip.

.......

Safe to say, Tony never came back not that the two of you noticed.Because A few drinks later the whole vibe of the room changed completely.

You don't know if it was the alcohol making you more susceptible to his charm but Steve is actually really funny and down to earth.

You two talked nonsense laughing and drinking the whole night away.

"Go out with me" he says with stars in his eyes face flushed red from the liquor.

You don't know what came over you.

"Okay...." You say nervously a small sheepish smile in your expression.

.........

Dinner was breathtaking, Steve showed up to your door at 8pm with the prettiest bouquet of roses.

And he was such a gentleman, holding open the car door for you. pulling out your chair.

You giggle lightly at something funny he said.

"You know I was wrong about you"

His eyebrow peaks up in interest .

"oh really" he smiles amusingly before playfully leaning in "do tell more".

You laugh off your nervousness.

"well...to be honest I found you creepy"

An expression of shock crosses his face.

"really?" He says voice coated in disbelief "I mean I could tell that you were uncomfortable but creepy c'mon"

You giggle "I know I know it's stupid and you didn't do anything I promise I just got a weird vibe".

"Yeah some vibe" he chuckles to himself.

"well I'm glad to find out your actually really sweet Steve" "I mean the flowers and the restaurant, this has all been so amazing"

Steve smiles "I'm glad you changed your mind about me"

.................

..................

..................

You feel the warm hum of the car as Steve drives you back to the apartment.

The ride back has a completely different feel from the drive to dinner. it's oddly silent, but you don't mind. it's good comedown time from the whirlwind of events and conversation that took place earlier.

Steve pulls into the car garage and smoothly parks, taking the keys out of the ignition then turning to face you.

"well tonight was really great Steve" you beam.

"We should do this again soon"

Steve smiles eerily at you then places a hand on your thigh.

You giggle nervously.

Steve breathes out a heavy sigh playing with the hem of your dress. ignoring your discomfort completely as if your just some mannequin in a mall.

"You have good intuition"

He laughs darkly.

"I mean everyone else just eats my shit up but not you..." He thumbs at your dress " not you..."

"that time I was gonna walk out at tony's party, that was a last ditch effort "

He smirks.

" I wasn't really gonna start leaving you alone...not really"

A chill runs up your spine at his callous tone.

"But to my surprise you finally fell for it".

"Steve..." You look at him with all the fear in your eyes. praying to God this is just some dumb prank preying on your paranoia.

Steve paused in thought and stops playing with your dress and sighs.

"I guess it's time I show you who I really am"

At that last word every door in the car locks in unison as Steve sizes you up with a carnal hunger in his eyes.

You back up against the door tears teetering on the edge of your corneas.

"Steve please..." Your voice cracks.

Steve just glares at you as if you just spoke an alien language to him.

He once again ignores your tears. something he's most likely used to by now and climbs into the back seat.

He seats himself to a relaxed man spread with his arm resting above the open empty seat.

You both stare at eachother trying to read the others mind.

"Come here" he says in a low commanding tone.

You sniffle softly "I don't want to" the tears start to run down your face.

Steve breathes in annoyance before lunging at you. dragging your thrashing body to the backseat.

"No! Let me go !" You try to hit him but any attempt you make he just restrains you more till you're sat on his lap.him holding both of your wrists together with one hand.

"Stop being such an ungrateful whore"

You violently struggle against him trying to free your hands.

"I treat you nice and take you to dinner and this is how you repay me" he says clearly disappointed by your behavior.

You continue to hit him, crying while you try to get away.

"Stop embarrassing yourself" he says unbothered by your frantic state.

A loud slap is placed against your bottom, and his superhuman strength makes it hurt like hell.

A choked sob leaves your throat, the searing burn on your ass most likely bright red.

Steve rubs your butt in soothing circles.

And you sniffle and sob quietly.not resisting anymore.cause if you take another hit like that you don't think you'll be able to walk much less run away.

"Now isn't that better sweetie, you like it when I'm nice to you don't you" Steve whispers softly as he goes to wipe your tears, but you dodge his touch.

In your head you're furiously shaking your head no until you feel a hand pulling your dress up.

"Steve please! I'll do anything just don-"

Steve rips your panties off of you as you yelp in shock.You start squirming against him again but he places A hand on your butt warningly.

"Behave or I won't be so nice"

He's being nowhere near nice or whatever he's telling himself in his fucked up head.

You see Steve's hand slowly dip between your legs. you shut your eyes and hide your face in his collar. too scared to watch what's gonna happen next.

Steve seems to find your behavior cute as his fingers dust over your folds.

"Don't worry bunny I just want to make you a little more agreeable"

Two thick fingers are jammed into your unprepared hole.You yelp shaking from the sudden intrusion.

Steve starts working his fingers in and out of you While he binds your wrists together tightly with his other hand.

You manage to muffle the involuntary moans with the fabric of his clothes but when his fingertips hit that deep sensitive spot inside, it catches you off guard.

"Ah!-" a pleasurable moan escapes your lips.

Steve chuckles "Hm... there she is...my good girl"

"No I'm no-Ah!" You try to talk back but Steve just keeps grinding his thick fingers into your spot over and over again.

You can't take it.

"No!" You cry not wanting to orgasm from such a horrendous act.

With a few more strokes from his fingers you cum on him, whimpering and whining bucking your hips up like a slut.

"Mmn... good girl" Steve says as he plays with the white liquid leaking from your hole. mesmerized by how much there is and how nicely it coats his fingers.

You look up in horror as you see him start to lick his fingers clean with his tongue.

He locks eyes with you, dark gaze staining his irises.

"You try it honey" he shoves his fingers down your throat and you taste yourself on your tongue as he forces you to gag on his fingers.

Steve holds your nose closed with his other hand as you panic for oxygen.

"that's right honey taste every last drop of your slutty little cunny"

So worn out from what he just did, you don't even hear his belt unbuckle.

Steve let's you go completely as you gasp for air, falling on your side into the empty seat next to him.

He grips your hips with both hands pulling them flush against his cock.

"Steve no! Don't!please-"

"Fuck!!-"you slam your head down into your arms and start crying.

Steve fully sheathes his erect cock inside of you.

Steve groans lowly as his cock twitches from the tightness.

It's so fucking big. he hasn't even moved yet but his tip resting against your womb is driving you crazy. you can feel every inch of him.

He slightly drags his cock out of you before slamming it back inside, You cry out again.

Steve roughly pumps his cock into you and you can feel your brain melting.

Losing any sense of what's being done to you, all you can focus on is the ache between your legs.

His cock hits against all the ridges in your pussy.

You bury your head into your arms not wanting him to hear your moans as your cunts clamps down around his cock milking him for cum.

Steve knows what your doing and is quick to correct it.

"Oh no you don't dolly I wanna hear it"

Steve pulls your head up by your hair.

You try to pull your head away but he has a death grip on your scalp.

Steve slows his motions for a minute and kisses up to your ear whispering.

"Be a good little whore and moan all nice'n pretty for me okay baby"

Your eyes widen in a mixture of fear and embarrassment before he places a commanding hand on your hip once again.

"Steve wait- Ahh! Fucking fuck! ahh!"

Steve breeds your pretty little cunt like an animal.Hitting at your spot repeatedly, it feels too good you try to push his hands off of you.

But that just makes him laugh as he angles his hips to hit your spot just right with every thrust.

You moan whimper and whine. your butt writhing against his hips on its own free will.

Your pussy is so fucking in love with him it drools a little every time he pulls out, leaving a shameful puddle beneath your body's.

"S-steve don't I can't cum anymore stop ah!" You plead barely able to think straight.

"Quit being such a whiny bitch and take it"

Steve wraps both of his hands completely around your throat and forces your head down against the seat then climbing up on top mounting you like a horse.

His hips come crashing down into your soaked pussy in a fury of thrusts.You start word vomiting as you feel his hand clench around your throat as he nears his orgasm.

"Fuck Steve use me fuck! breed me like a little bitch please! please please-"

Steve slaps his hips against yours and you feel his balls tense and untense as he cums deep inside your canal.

You can't fucking think speak or do anything.

You just lie there feeling his spunk seep into your swollen womb.

He gets off of you and tucks himself back into his pants.You hear the doors unlock but you're too broken to move.

Steve hot and sweaty breathes out a heavy sighs catching his breath from the exertion.

Steve rolls his eyes at you thinking you're just being a drama queen.

He leans over you and you flinch, but he's actually reaching for the door.

He pushes it open.

"You should get some rest"

Then turns his attention back to your trembling form.You wearily meet his gaze, your body far from recovered.

"You don't want to miss work do you bunny?"

You slowly shake your head no at him too scared to argue.

"Good then get out" he says coldly.

"Unless you're desperate for a round two"

Your eyes widen.

That's enough to get you stumbling out of the back seat but you struggle to stay balanced on your feet.

"Oh and by the way"

What could he want now.

"don't wear those short skirts at work"

"I'm tired of the staff looking at what belongs to me"

What the hell have you gotten yourself into. you would've talked back to him but seeing as all the strength has been siphoned from your body all you can do is nod.

Steve smiles at your compliance.

"C-can I go now" you ask nervously.

Steve nods endearingly and you slowly make your way towards the elevator.

Steve laughs to himself as you struggle to walk, almost falling on your ass at some points.He smirks getting into the driver's seat as the elevator doors close.

You see his car drive by as he leaves eyeing you like property.

You gulp and swallow your breath fearful that your employment to stark industries could turn into you being an indentured sex slave to Captain America.

You shut your eyes as the elevator moves through the floors.reeling from the events caused by your lack of caution and surplus of trust.your body still aches from what he did.

You wince at the thought of tomorrow, cause without a doubt Steve will be right there.

Ready to ruin you all over again.

[shingekinosimpson]

You Had Me At B Minor: Chapter 13

First | Previous

Pairing: Jean Kirschtein x Marco Bodt

Other relationships: Reibert, Springles, Historia x Ymir, Levi x Hange, a smidge of Jearmin

Rating: Mature

Summary: Jean's band needs a new bass player. Cue freckled Jesus.

Warnings/tags: Long fic, slow burn, Jean POV, friends to lovers, British AU with cannon locations, northern Jean, Unsigned band AU, nonbinary Armin, I promise there will be smut eventually! drinking, mentions of death, descriptions of domestic violence, panic attacks, see start of each chapter for more specific trigger warnings

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

Trigger warnings: n/a

Who am I, darling to you? Who am I? Going to tell you stories of mine Who am I?

Oh, who am I, darling for you? Who am I? Could be a burden in time, lonely Who am I, to you?

And who am I, darling for you? Who am I? Will be a burden Who am I, darling to you? Who am I?

“I got the job!”

“Wh-what??”

“I got the job!!”

“Yes!! Shit that’s amazing, I knew you would!”

“I didn’t! I thought my lesson went a bit wrong but they said I had lots of good things in there and they really liked how I was with the kids and…fuck. I can’t believe I actually got it!”

God I could listen to his voice all day.

I may not have seen Marco as much as I would like this week – nowhere near as much – but I’ve heard that voice plenty. So much so that I swear I can hear the difference between a small smile and a big smile. And let me tell you, that is a wide-ass fucking grin Marco is sporting right now.

Probably matches the one I’m wearing. I’m so fucking pleased for him. The number of times this poor guy’s rang me this week in a total stress and in need of a distraction has almost reached double figures. Not that I mind in the slightest. Although it was pretty eye-opening finding out how much pressure Marco puts on himself, how desperately he wants a steady job so he can give more support to his mam and sister. Even though I’m sure they’d be the first to tell him not to worry. It's a big relief knowing he can stop stressing so much now.

“I’m so fucking happy for you. What did your mam say when you told her? Did she scream in Italian like you said?”

“I haven’t told her yet. I literally just got off the phone with the head teacher. She probably will though.”

“…So…am I the first person you’ve told?”

“Erm, yeah,” he chuckles. “I guess.” It’s a good job I’m sitting down, otherwise that information might’ve floored me. A flush of heat rushes over my cheeks and chest and I grip my phone a little tighter, coyly chewing my lip. He just landed a permanent job and the first thing he does is ring me.

“I mean, you did say to ring you as soon as I heard,” Marco adds.

“Damn right I did!”

“Though now you mention it, I probably should give my mum a ring,” he says with a nervous laugh.

“Probably. I’ll speak to you later though yeah?”

“Yeah okay. Later then.”

“Later. And well done again. You’re gonna be amazing I know it.”

“O-okay.” That’s definitely his blushing voice. “Speak soon.”

As soon as he hangs up, I start typing a message.

HeresJeany:

By the way I am 100% taking you out for food tomorrow to celebrate! :P

He still hasn’t taken up my offer from last week, with him being so busy and all. I hope he doesn’t already have plans.

_________________________________

I've just chucked some chips and fish fingers in the oven (I can't be arsed to cook a proper meal) when my phone starts to ring, the picture of me and Marco where I look like a pineapple flashing up on the screen.

“It's like you knew I was making a fish finger sandwich. Well the answer is no, you can't have any.”

“Aw not even a bite?” he asks, snickering at my blunt greeting.

“Nope. All for me.”

He hums through another chuckle before speaking. “Soooo about food tomorrow. Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

“Err, both I guess?” Okay, I know we're going away to Dauper in like, two days, but I'll still be gutted if he's not free for food. I am seriously craving some Marco time, especially after how touchy-feely he was the last time we hung out together. “What's up?"

“So the good news is we can have food tomorrow.”

Phew!

“Bad news is my mum is going all out cooking a family meal and she is absolutely insisting that you join us.”

What?

“Which basically means you don't have a choice.”

“Err...okay?”

The tips of my ears prickle with nervous energy. Family dinners always fill me with a sense of dread, especially since that disastrous one with Hitch a couple of years ago. I know there's no way Marco's family would be like them, and I've already met Mia but still, there's a formality to these things that sets me on edge.

“You sure? You don't actually have to I was only kidding…but my mum is really keen to meet my friends and... I’d really like it if you came.”

Oh fuck. His voice sounded really adorable there.

“N-no that sounds great! Tell her thanks for the invite that's really nice of her. So erm, what time should I come over?”

“Is six okay?”

“Yeah fine. Do you want me to bring anything or...Oh what do I need to wear? Do I need to wear something smart?”

He barks a laugh at that question. “No absolutely not. Wear anything you like. Though maybe don't risk the Moomin Vans or I might steal them.”

“Haha, okay.”

“Okay. I'll let you get back to your fish fingers.” His voice sounds so gorgeous I kind of don't want him to. “Speak to you later.”

“Okay later then. Bye.”

“Bye Jean.”

_________________________________

I pull the handbrake and toot the horn when I get to Marco's. After finding out he was planning to get the bus, I absolutely insisted on picking him up.

Butterflies are already starting to flip in my stomach in anticipation of seeing him. On one hand, I cannot wait to hang out with him again (it’s pretty much all I’ve thought about the last few days), but I won’t lie, the coward in me wants to run for the hills.

Last weekend was just so…I don’t even know how to describe it. I still have to pinch myself whenever I think about it. The way he was with me felt different. All the touching and blushing. There was just so much fucking joy in his eyes and in his laugh and I felt like I was a big part of that…maybe even the cause of that.

There have been moments when I’ve felt certain of that fact, to the point where I daydream telling him how I feel – what I’ll say, where I’ll say it, what he might say back…But then there have been other moments…moments where I’ve imagined Marco pulling away from me, backtracking on his affections and playing it all off as a bit of fun or drunken silliness…

The front door opens and I look over, my stomach landing with a ker-thump…

Wait, what the actual fuck???

I roll the window down as fast as I can while my eyes start bugging out of my head. “Marco what the hell!?”

WHY?? Why is he wearing a blazer with a fucking shirt and tie!?

He turns to me looking perplexed. “What?”

“What d'you mean 'WHAT'? Why are you dressed like that? You said I didn't have to dress up!”

“I’m not dressed up. I’m just dressed for a family meal. I thought it was obvious you needed to dress like this,” he says sounding a bit hurt.

“Of course it's not obvious! Why do you think I asked!? Shit, I need to go home and get changed. I don't even know if-”

Marco doubles over and starts howling with laughter.

“Oh my god,” he chokes with his hands on his knees. “Your face! Could you be anymore freaked out?”

He descends into wheezy chuckles again holding his stomach.

“Oh my god. You bastard.”

“I'm sorry. I just thought it was cute when you asked about wearing something smart and I couldn't resist.”

My grumpiness can't help but lessen at the word ‘cute’. Not to mention how cute he looks giggling away at me.

“I'll go get changed. Two seconds,” he says turning back.

That little shit. As if he actually came out dressed like that just to mess with me. At least I get a nice view of his arse in smart pants and his nipped in waist as I watch him retreat.

“If you don't come down here looking like a hobo, I'm gonna be seriously pissed!”

I’m treated to one more cheeky smile as he closes the door. My smile stretches so wide my cheeks ache. Fuck. I like him so much.

When he returns, he's definitely dressed way down compared to before but that does nothing to stop my butterflies making themselves known again, twirling and somersaulting like they’re caught in a tornado. He's wearing ripped black skinny jeans and a grey Superdry hoody. That's it. That's literally it. But christ does he look fucking sexy. His thighs and his shoulders and oh my god he just turned to lock the door and look at his arse nnggghhhhh!!

“Better?” he asks with a sunshine smile as he practically skips towards the car.

“Much better,” I answer honestly.

He buckles up and we set off with only ten minutes to spare.

“I am absolutely blaming you if we’re late,” I huff.

“We won't be late. Why are you getting so stressed?” Marco asks with an amused look.

“Because I don't want to make a shit impression.”

“You're really that bothered?”

“Of course I am, they're your family.”

There's a weight to those words I wish wasn't there. Marco considers me from the passenger seat, a warm smile on his face. I don’t realise I’m holding my breath until he speaks.

“You've got nothing to worry about Jean. My family likes you plenty.”

“I've only met Mia remember? Your family don't know me.”

“Okay but they know of you. How you helped out with Mia, how you've helped me...” He looks down at his lap with a blush, picking at the threads near his exposed knee. “My mum's been pestering me to bring you over for a while.”

“She has?”

“Well yeah, I talk about you all the time and she wants to meet-” He stops to clear his throat, brow furrowed. “I mean, she knows how you helped me find Mia that time so, yeah...like I said you've got nothing to worry about, so can you please calm your tits?”

My ears flush hearing he's talked about me with his mam, and all good things by the sound of it. I chew my lip around the huge smile trying to burst across my face, not wanting to look like a complete dork.

“Okay. Calm tiddies from now on. I promise.”

I let the smile out anyway and Marco mirrors it.

To my great relief we’re not super late, arriving one minute after six to be precise. I’m sure with some parents that would result in a passive aggressive comment or just an outright scolding when they answer the door. That is absolutely not what happens when Marco’s mam welcomes us.

“Marcorsetto! Come here my baby boy! Mwah, mwah, mwah!”

Marco’s mam can’t be much over five foot but that doesn’t stop her from pulling his face down for some serious smooches.

Not gonna lie - it’s adorable. She reminds me of Connie’s mam and I instantly like her.

Fuck, I hope she likes me.

She cups Marco’s cheeks with a big smile and then turns to me. “Jean! I’m Gianna. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

I’m a little (a lot) unprepared for the huge hug I find myself in. The air in my lungs leaves me with an oof but I quickly recover with a chuckle.

“You too! Thanks for inviting me.”

“Oooh molto bello!” she says over my shoulder, making Marco turn crimson.

“Mum!!”

“Hahaha! Come in! Come in! Help yourselves to slippers if you like!” she says disappearing down the passage towards the kitchen.

“Marcorsetto?” I ask, toeing off my shoes.

“Orsetto means ‘little bear’ in Italian.”

“Okay that might be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Marco slides on some fluffy bunny slippers but I opt for the far more sensible tartan pair. I follow him down the hall towards the kitchen, where a number of voices are chatting animatedly.

“How in the hell? That one’s rigged. It must be!” says a gruff voice.

“It’s not! Here you bloody well use it!”

Opening the door, two things come into focus. The first thing is all the noise – laughter mostly, accompanied by something sizzling loudly on the hob and a classic disco tune dancing out of the radio in the corner. The second thing is the incredible smell. A mix of garlic and onion and herbs and other delicious things I can’t quite put my finger on.

I feel my stomach grumble, like it knows it’s in for a good time.

“Hello bonny lad!” says a stocky man with slightly greying, light brown hair.

He rises from his seat to give Marco a quick hug. The lady next to him – a dead-ringer for Marco’s mam – also stands, her eyes soft when she pulls Marco towards her.

“Hello Marco sweetheart!”

“Hi! You both okay?”

They nod and hum, both throwing a smile and a sideways glance in my direction.

“This is my friend Jean,” Marco beams making my stomach flip. “Jean, this is my Uncle Dave and Aunty Maxine.”

“Good to meet you son!” Uncle Dave smiles giving my hand a warm shake.

“Call me Max,” his Aunty replies, slipping a delicate hand in mine for a moment.

I greet them both in turn and take a seat next to Mia, offering her a quick ‘hi’. She quietly returns it, giving me what I think is a genuine smile before looking up at her Uncle Dave.

“C’mon then! You’ve got the rigged one so you shouldn’t have a problem now.”

Dave gives a hearty laugh, holding a small red counter between thumb and forefinger.

“Oh jeez,” Marco moans. “Tiddlywinks again Dave? You know she can’t be beaten.”

That explains the random assortment of things on the table – a red cup, counters of different colours and sizes and a few small, plastic animals - the kind you’d get in a Christmas cracker.

“Right then, this is the one I can feel it,” Dave smirks.

He presses the edge of his counter to another and it pings across the table, missing the red cup by quite a margin.

“Bollocks,” Dave grumbles, causing everyone to laugh. “Haway boys see if you can beat her. An entire pound coin is riding on this game!”

Marco grabs a small plastic spider with a weird tab sticking out of its arse. He presses his finger to the tab and the spider jumps forward, grazing the edge of the red cup before landing on the table.

“Oh, so close! C’mon Jean, see if you can get one in,” Maxine says excitedly.

I consider the options before me.

“I’ll try my luck with Mr Froggy I guess.”

I grab the green plastic frog and place it in front of me, deciding the best angle. I notice Marco and Mia sharing a smile but think nothing of it…

“JESUS!”

…Until the plastic frog flies a fucking mile and they both burst out laughing.

“Oh god I’m so sorry!”

The fucking frog has flown over to the kitchen bench and plopped right into the fucking salad bowl. I jump up and rush over to pick it out, muttering a million apologies to Gianna.

She laughs warmly, grabbing it before I get the chance. “It’s fine Jean darling don’t panic. You two!” she snaps, throwing the frog in Marco and Mia’s general direction. “You could have warned the poor boy!”

Marco gets his giggles under control and pats me on the shoulder when I sit down. “Sorry. The frog is notoriously hard to control. It always goes flying no matter how softly you try to do it.”

“And you just let me choose it without saying anything! Some friend you are,” I say shoving him in the shoulder.

“Wicked boy,” Gianna smiles, swatting Marco with a tea towel.

“He’s a menace!” I laugh. “Have you heard what he did to me when I picked him up?”

I tell the tale of Marco winding me up with his bloody suit, much to the amusement of everyone else.

“Oh Marco you are awful!” Gianna says with a laugh. “Right clear the table then. This will be ready soon. Marco darling, can you grab the bread from the oven? Mia, help me with the plates, would you sweetie?”

“Anything I can do to help?” I ask.

“No Jean darling you’re our guest! You just relax,” Gianna insists.

“Can I tempt you with some wine Jean?” Maxine asks, pouring herself a glass of red.

“Oh, yes please. Just a small one though. I’m driving.”

Plates and bowls start appearing on the table – bread fresh from the oven and oil for dipping, tomatoes and mozzarella, and something else I’m not quite sure of.

“Wow. This looks amazing. Is that hummus?”

“It’s mashed cannellini beans with garlic and a bit of lemon,” Gianna smiles. “Here, try it on some bread, it’s delicious!”

Literally everything is delicious. Marco was right about his mam being an amazing cook. And I can’t believe all this is just the starter. Everyone quietens during the first part of the meal, enjoying the food too much to bother with conversation, but it soon picks back up again when the last few bits disappear from our plates.

Dave and Maxine have plenty of questions for Marco about his new job. He gets so enthusiastic talking about all the ideas he has for his new class. It’s nice listening to him interact with Dave and Maxine – he’s clearly very fond of them and I can tell they have a lot of love for him too. They both come across as genuinely lovely people and it warms my heart to know that, despite his past, Marco has a loving family he can rely on.

“Alright dig in everyone!” Gianna smiles after presenting us with the main course – mushroom risotto.

“Mmm, wow, this is really good,” I mumble around a mouthful of heaven.

It is literally the best mushroom risotto I’ve ever tasted in my life. I’m not even that into mushroom risotto, but I would happily have this one every day of the week.

“Thank you dear! You can come back anytime,” Gianna replies with a wink.

Now I see where Marco gets his cheeky nature from.

“How’s the band going Marco?” Maxine asks after we’ve all been tucking in for a while. “Your mum was telling me you’ve had a couple of gigs.”

“Yeah, good thanks,” he says scratching his neck. “I’ve managed to remember most of the songs so far, so that’s good.”

Like hell am I gonna sit here and let him be so modest.

“He’s doing more than good. Your nephew is one seriously talented man,” I say, more to Marco than Maxine.

“A seriously talented man you say!” Maxine beams.

“He’s overexaggerating,” Marco smiles, nudging my shoulder and blushing prettily.

“I’m definitely not! None of us can believe our luck he joined. We’ve never sounded better.”

Marco’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of red but I just smile. I’m only telling the truth after all.

“Aww how lovely! My clever boy,” Gianna gushes, smooching the top of his head as she gets up to grab another bottle of wine.

“Well that’s good to know…because I have a bit of a proposition for you boys,” Maxine grins. “You know your cousin Sara’s wedding is coming up? In June?”

“Yeah,” Marco replies.

“Well the band they booked for the evening have cancelled. Would you boys be interested? No pressure but I said I’d ask.”

“You guys have done weddings before right?” Marco asks, turning to me.

“Yeah, we have. They’ve always been a good laugh.”

“I’ve no idea what songs they’d like but if you send her a message on Facebook, I’m sure she’ll be happy to give you the details,” Maxine continues.

“Okay I’ll get in touch with her. What do you reckon Jean? Will Connie and Eren be interested?”

“I’m sure they would be up for it. Hey, maybe by June I’ll have finally convinced you to start singing,” I grin.

“Doubtful,” he smiles, rolling his eyes at me.

“Thank you!” Mia suddenly pipes up, gesturing at me. “See Marco, how many times have I said you should be singing?”

“He’s got a good voice, hasn’t he?” I say to Mia. Good to know I’m not the only one who’s told him so.

“Yeah! He always used to beat me on Singstar. He’s well good.”

“Oh, what was that song you used to sing so beautifully together?” Gianna ponders. “The ‘hold on for one more day’ song.”

“Ah, Wilson Phillips,” Mia answers.

“Yes! Oh I used to love it when you sang that together.”

“Well, maybe Sara will want it at the wedding if Marco’s that good!” Dave laughs.

“Listen if you heard this guy sing,” Marco says gesturing to me, “you wouldn’t be praising my singing abilities.”

I’m almost derailed by his compliment but I power through. “There’s always room for more singers in the band Marco, and we’d be daft not to make use of your voice from time to time.”

He hums, wilting under my and Mia’s staring. “I’ll think about it.”

“You bloody better,” Mia mumbles, smirking at Marco.

Gianna gets up starts clearing the table, asking Maxine a million questions about the wedding as she places our dishes in the sink. Marco makes a start on washing them and Mia soon gets up to help him dry. They speak in hushed voices as they work side by side so I can’t hear what they’re saying, but at one point Marco grabs the tea towel out of Mia’s hand and slaps her playfully on the head with it.

Then dessert starts appearing on the table – chocolate ganache with shortbread, strawberries and orange segments to share. I wasn’t sure I’d want any dessert after the filling risotto but oh man does it look good. Gianna recommends smoothing some ganache onto the shortbread and topping it with an orange segment so I go for that first.

Marco smiles when I hum contentedly. “It’s good right?”

“Sooo good.”

“I hear you’re heading off on holiday tomorrow boys,” Dave comments with a grin.

“Yeah. Our friend’s grandma is lending us her holiday cottage for the weekend,” Marco replies with a smile in my direction, making my ears prickle.

“Oh nice. Good friend to have. Just the two of you is it?” Dave beams.

“N-no,” Marco splutters turning red, which makes me turn red. Even more so when Mia tries to cover up her snort with a cough. “There’s about ten of us going.”

Marco takes a sip of water, so he doesn’t notice Maxine’s death glare or Dave bewilderedly mouthing ‘what!?’ It’s kind of funny actually, like seeing what Connie and Sasha will be like in 30 years.

“Whereabouts is the cottage you’re all staying in?” Maxine asks, trying to ease some of the tension.

“Dauper,” Marco replies.

“Ooooh lovely! Gorgeous part of the world Dauper. We’ve been a couple of times. Have you ever been Jean?”

“No. Looking forward to it though. The dark skies are meant to be great there.”

“Oh yes, the night sky is beautiful in that area! Oh Dave, what was the name of that pub? The one where you had that gorgeous trout…”

Dave and Maxine give us all their best tips for where to go and what to do. Hearing them talk about it so merrily gets me even more excited for the trip.

After practically licking my bowl clean, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I find Katniss snoozing on the landing.

“Hey baby girl!”

She indulges me in some head scritches, before sleepily rolling over for some tummy love. I slip my phone out of my pocket to snap some cheeky pics, though my desperate need to pee stops it turning into a full photo shoot. I’ve just finished up in the bathroom and cracked open the door when I hear Dave’s voice downstairs in the hall.

“Max! C’mere I can’t find it.”

A few seconds later I hear Maxine. “You never bloody can despite it being right in front of your face! There! Look! In the front pocket like I said…I’ll bloody kill you for embarrassing Marco.”

“Wha-? How’s it embarrassing to ask if you’re going on holiday with your boyfriend?”

“They’re not boyfriends!” Max whispers exasperatedly.

“I thought Gianna said they were?”

“No! They’re just friends!”

“Oh bloody hell. Put my foot right in it there then,” Dave grumbles.

“Gianna said she thought they might become boyfriends. She says Marco talks about him all the time.”

“Oh yeah, that was it…Well you can see why I thought they were already an item. They’d make a lovely couple wouldn’t they?”

“Yeah…a right handsome pair. Oh, I hope they do. Jean seems so lovely.”

I’ve literally frozen to the spot. I dare not move, or even breathe for that matter.

As if I’ve got Marco’s flesh and blood rooting for me! Holy shit!

I couldn’t help but wonder what Gianna thought when Marco let slip he talks to her about me. At worst, I thought she might be wary of me hurting him like so many others before. At best, I hoped she’d be grateful Marco had found a good friend. To hear she thinks there might be something more than friendship though…I’m just…Gyaahhh!!!

Worrying my absence might start to become suspicious, I close the bathroom door loud enough to make my presence known and head down the stairs. Dave and Max quickly hush up at the sound.

“Alright dear?” Maxine smiles.

“Just grabbing my insulin pen! Needed a bit of a top-up after helping myself to too much dessert!” Dave laughs.

I smile widely; I really can’t help it after what I’ve just heard. “Bet it was worth it though. That chocolate ganache was insane.”

“Bloody gorgeou-”

A series of giggles and a surge in volume makes us all turn our heads towards the kitchen. We share an inquisitive smirk, heading to investigate what’s so funny.

The three Bodts are dancing up a storm around the kitchen table. Marco’s toing and froing between his mam and Mia, waltzing and spinning them as they sing along to George Michael and Aretha Franklin.

Maxine and Dave both laugh and smile but my lips only twitch slightly. My smile is soft and tender as a bittersweet tug in my stomach sends warmth throughout my body. I was right when I said Connie, Eren and I were lucky to have found such a talented bassist, but the bigger truth of how lucky I am to have found Marco fills me to the brim as I watch him laugh and smile.

He looks radiant and just…impossibly beautiful.

“Show them how it’s done Maxy!”

Dave takes hold of Maxine and they begin to sway back and forth. After a few beats, they break apart and grab a hold of the nearest person – Mia and Gianna – and start dancing with them.

Emboldened by Dave and Maxine’s earlier conversation, I take a step forward and sweep into Marco’s space, my fingers slipping into his palm as I lead him in a twirl. He chuckles and returns the favour, spinning me away and pulling me back. My hand finds a hold in the dip of his waist on instinct, and I rock him side to side, not caring one little bit for the goofy grin on my face or the glowing looks I get from Marco’s family.

And then he sings and the warm fuzzies in my chest increase tenfold.

“So we were draaaawwwn tooogether through destinyyyyyy…ooh boy. Ooh!

I know this loooove weeee share was meant to beeeee. Oh!

Knew you were waiting! WooOoooh, yeah!”

The rest of his family are singing too but I the only sound I hear is him. I beam and laugh at the way he hits the high notes, doing his best over-the-top popstar impression.

“Oh, when the valley was low. No, it didn't stop meeeee, no!

Knew you were waiting! Knew you were waiting for me!”

I’m giddy when he spins me away and tugs me back into his orbit. He laughs and something flashes in his eyes when they meet mine. He pulls me close enough to meet the warmth of his torso as the song draws to a close. Our embrace only lasts for a moment, but it leaves me lightheaded and breathless. I reach out a hand to steady myself on a chair as we all break apart.

“Always knew I’d married into a family of crackerjacks!” Dave chortles, giving Mia a quick tickle on her side before sitting down. “Reckon me and Jean should run for the hills while we still have a chance!”

“I dunno,” I grin, taking my seat next to Marco. “Reckon the food is worth the craziness.”

“Ooooh you’re definitely allowed back again you little charmer!” Gianna coos, squidging my shoulders (to my absolute delight). “Phew! I need a brew after that. Shall I put a pot of tea on?”

Max helps Gianna sort out the cups and teapot while Mia and Dave start setting out the tiddlywinks again. I look at Marco with a coy smile, still a little dazed from the moment we shared.

“I promise we’re not always this mental,” he smiles quietly. “But now you know, if that song ever comes on the radio, it’s pretty much a given we’ll all drop everything and start dancing.”

“Fine by me. I love a good twirl around the kitchen now and then,” I smirk, resting my head on my hand.

It makes Marco blush for some reason, though maybe he's just flushing from all the dancing.

“Why that song?” I ask.

“Well my mum used to play it a lot when we were younger,” he starts, keeping his voice low, “but once it was the three of us, I noticed...when she played it, she started actually singing along with it. I’d never heard her sing before. So I started joining in and then eventually Mia did too and it kind of escalated from there.”

Once again, I'm in awe of Marco and his family. In awe of how they’ve found the strength to sing and laugh after everything they've endured. In awe of how much love and warmth they extend to everyone around them when they could so easily have closed themselves off. They're amazing.

“You fancy another round boys?” Dave asks, wiggling a tiddlywink in our direction. 

We stay another hour or so, sharing a few laughs and silly stories as all the delicious food settles in our stomachs.

After bidding the rest of Marco's family goodbye, his mam follows us to the door to see us out.

“You will come again won’t you Jean?”

“I’m literally booking in for every Sunday! Can’t remember the last time I was so well fed,” I reply.

“Oh you’re more than welcome dear. Thank you so much for coming.”

She pulls me into a squishy hug and then turns to Marco, pulling him down to reach her.

“Love you baby boy. Have the best time this weekend okay? You deserve it sweetheart.”

“Love you. I will, don’t worry,” he says with a sleepy smile, resting his head on her shoulder a moment.

Too cute.

“Drive safe Jean okay?” Gianna smiles.

“I will. Gotta get this precious cargo there in one piece,” I grin, giving Marco a playful squeeze on the shoulders.

I run around to the driver’s side as Marco slumps into the passenger seat. We bid Gianna another farewell and pull out into the road. Marco settles back with a contented sigh, gazing sleepily out the window.

“...I really like your family,” I say after a moment.

Marco's gaze jerks towards me, a look of surprise on his face, but it quickly softens into a smile.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I like them too.”

“I can't believe how much your Aunty Max looks like your mam!”

“I know. Apparently they'd always get mistaken for twins when they were kids.”

Marco tells me more about his aunty and uncle during the drive; the shenanigans Dave gets up to at family parties and the jumpers Max makes for them every Christmas.

We pull up outside Marco’s much sooner than I would like. Luckily he doesn't seem to notice, continuing his story about the time Dave ended up in A&E, after losing a fight with a goose that took a disliking to him.

We giggle and laugh with our heads resting against the back of our seats, our general sleepiness starting to take over.

He looks over at the front door and sighs. “Guess I should head in,” he says with a sad smile, unbuckling his seat belt. “Thanks again for the lift.”

“Anytime.”

I pause. Secretly hoping he invites me in to hang out. I know he won't though. It's late and we've got a long drive tomorrow...Still though.

“So erm, d'you..?” he starts and I hold my breath.

“Do you...still wanna pick us up at eleven tomorrow?”

“Oh. Erm...yeah 'course. Eleven still works for me.”

I make a point of ignoring the disappointment I feel in the pit of my stomach.

“Okay cool,” he says climbing out of the car. It feels like he has something else to say. “See you tomorrow then. Drive home safe.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” I reply, trying to work out what expression I can see in his features, but it changes into a sweet smile before I get the chance.

He turns with a wave of his hand and I release a pent-up breath. My chest and stomach twist as I watch him head inside. It's not exactly an unpleasant feeling though.

I replay so many parts of this evening in my head on the drive home, but when my head finally hits the pillow, it's the voice of Dave that sends me to sleep with a smile.

'They'd make a lovely couple wouldn’t they?'

_________________________________

Connie helps me load up the car before waving me off (with an actual fucking hanky he got from god knows where) with an obnoxiously loud 'Farewell my beloved!'

Due to a couple of other people booking time off, there was absolutely no way Connie could get away from work before 8pm tonight, so he's joining us later. I feel bad knowing he’ll be on his own for the journey. I would have offered to go with him but that would have meant making Eren and Marco late too and it seemed silly not to make the most of our stay.

I park my car outside Eren and Marco’s and give the horn a quick toot, rolling the window down so I can lean on my elbow while I wait. My phone beeps after less than a minute. I’m expecting something silly from Marco but it’s from Eren.

Jaegermeister:

Good fucking luck

What the hell?

HeresJeany:

???????

Jaegermeister:

>:-)

Before I tap out another reply, the front door opens and the meaning behind Eren’s message becomes all too clear.

“Morning!” Marco says cheerfully.

He’s got his hair tied back again. A few wavy tendrils are escaping from where it’s loosely pulled back…It looks really fucking good.

“Hey you,” I smile, not really bothering to hide the affection in my tone.

“Good morning my favourite douche!” Eren squawks obnoxiously, appearing behind Marco with a shit-eating grin.

“Your smelly ass needs one!”

My reply doesn’t faze him in the slightest.

“You doing alright?” he asks with a knowing smirk I’m glad Marco can’t see.

I decide to ignore him, jumping out of the car to open the boot for Marco.

After loading up their bags, I connect my phone to the car stereo. It takes nearly three hours to get to Dauper, but the music I've put together for the journey is a veritable 90s/00s wet dream of a playlist so we’re in for a good time.

Marco catches my eye and smiles as he recognises the opening bars of Sabotage by the Beastie Boys surging through the speakers. I smirk back before checking on Eren.

"We all clunk-clicked back there?"

"Yes Mam."

"Right let's go then."

After our rendezvous with everyone at Sasha’s, we head off – Mikasa taking Sasha, Armin and Historia in one car with Bert and Reiner in the other. The busy streets of Trost gradually fall away as we make our way to the motorway. There's a buzz in the car that affirms just how excited we all are for the trip. Between sing-alongs, taking the piss out of shitty drivers and sniggering at weird place names, the journey goes by quickly. Even the heavy rain we hit half an hour in doesn’t dampen our spirits.

Marco is especially animated, twisting in his seat to laugh and joke or reaching forward to turn the music up every time of one his favourites comes on (which is often!). The whole car vibrates when Goon Squad by Deftones gets turned up a notch and we all sing (scream) the lyrics as we clear the last of the rain clouds.

“I feel like ‘Goon Squad’ would be a good name for us if we ever decide to become vigilantes and fight crime,” Eren says as the next song starts and we catch our breath.

“Maybe for you two,” I tease. “I think Captain Kirschtein and the Goon Squad sounds better though.”

“You fucking wish.”

“Hmm, I don’t think I know this one,” Marco says nodding at the stereo.

I cock an eyebrow at him as the persistent riff of Good Morning, Captain starts up again. “How can a total 90s dweeb like you not know Slint?”

He looks at me blankly. “Slint?”

“Oh my god. Spiderland? Are you kidding me?? Right, you need to listen to this song.”

Eren starts babbling away to Marco about the album and how the band originally wanted it to be instrumental, that is until I turn and smack him on the leg.

“Okay OW!”

“Well fucking shut up! You can tell him when the song’s over!”

Crashing cymbals and guttural guitars fill the car as Marco taps out the rhythm on his knee. When the song reaches its crescendo, he looks over at me.

“Oh man, I think I have a new band boner!”

I laugh, because it’s obviously a joke, but he says it with such a salacious grin that I blurt out, “Wait, seriously?”

All he does in reply is stick his tongue between his teeth and waggle his eyebrows at me.

Shit that’s hot.

I cover how flustered it makes me with a chuckle and focus on the road. My imagination starts running wild though, and I can’t help the way my gaze slides over to Marco’s crotch just to have a cheeky look.

“Saw that.”

My eyes snap up to Eren in the mirror.

“Saw what?” Marco asks, thankfully oblivious.

“You didn’t see shit Jaeger.”

He chuckles, very obviously pleased with catching me red-handed.

Despite all the singing and chatting, Eren still manages to conk out about two hours into the journey. Never in my life have I known this guy stay awake on a long car trip.

“Oh, man down,” Marco smiles quietly looking back at Eren.

My eyes flit up to the mirror and I see his reflection; slumped down into his hoody and gently rocking with the car’s movement. I turn the music down a little. I don’t really need to – Eren could sleep through the apocalypse – but Marco’s hushed voice makes me feel like I should.

After a few songs, I notice Marco glancing at me out of the corner of my eye, his mouth opening and closing as if he wants to say something. Eventually he clears his throat and speaks.

“Hey I meant to ask…” he trails off, looking oddly awkward all of a sudden.

“Yeah?”

He scratches his neck and looks out of his window instead of at me.

“I know you and Connie are roomies but…I figured he might be sharing with Sasha so…I was thinking it might be nice if - I mean I don't know what the sleeping arrangements are at this place but," his eyes flit over to me as he babbles and stutters. "Do you...do you maybewannasharearoomwithme?”

Ba-dump.

I’ve thought about it. Obviously I've thought about where I might be sleeping - where he might be sleeping - but I figured people would just pair off when we got there and that Eren would somehow wingman me to make sure I share with Marco.

What I didn't think about was Marco just coming straight out and asking me!

Shit. How do I answer this without completely giving myself away or making it weird?

“E-Err,” I stammer, my grip tightening on the steering wheel.

“We don't have to!" he backtracks when I fail to answer. “If you've already arranged something with Eren or Armin or whoev-”

My determination not to screw this up brings confidence surging back to my voice in an instant. If he’s got the guts to ask me, there’s no way I’m going to ruin it by losing my cool.

“We can share a room.”

“…Yeah?” Marco asks with a slight tone of disbelief.

“Yeah ‘course we can share a room. It'll be fun,” I add with a big smile to show him I’m not just being polite.

“Okay...cool,” Marco replies.

The way he ducks his head to hide his own smile and blush makes me giddy, though that feeling is definitely coupled with weird mixture of nervousness and anticipation. My stomach starts flipping at the thought of what might be whispered and confessed in the dark, when we're wrapped in soft blankets and sleepiness has lifted our filters…

Then a short but incredibly loud snort from Eren snaps me back to the present. Marco and I both lock eyes before breaking into hysterics.

“What the hell!?” I laugh, with Marco wheezing beside me.

“Huh? Wha?” Eren murmurs, squinting at us with sleepy eyes and wiping the drool from his chin.

_________________________________

By late afternoon we reach Dauper. After staying within close range of each other on the motorway, we all manage to take the exit at the same time and follow Sasha’s car as it weaves its way along the narrow, grass-lined roads.

The higher we climb, the more beautiful the scenery becomes. The houses become less frequent and older in style, broken up by farmers’ fields, rolling hills and the occasional mill.

“Deer! Oh my god there’s deer in that field!” Marco says excitedly, causing Eren to press his face up at the window and gawk.

There’s so much wildlife here. Aside from the deer we also spot a huge flock of geese flying in a V-formation above us, a fox zipping across a field and we narrowly miss hitting a pheasant that thought it was a good idea to stand in the middle of the road.

After a couple of tight turns and an awkward encounter with a tractor, we pull onto the cobbled lane with the cottage at the end. The car judders and wobbles as we follow Sasha, with Bert and Reiner behind us. Eventually, we stop outside a stone building with blue pastel windows and a yellow door.

“Wow. This looks nice,” Marco says with bright eyes after we climb out of the car.

It really does.

Armin gasps from the open door of Sasha’s car, looking at the driveway. “How am I going to get to the door? My Vans are going to get ruined!”

The rain stopped over an hour ago, but it must’ve been especially heavy in Dauper if the puddles around us are anything to go by. My eyes travel down Armin’s all-black outfit to the new lilac Vans on their feet. Yep. Those kicks are gonna be fucked.

Marco chuckles beside me and asks, “Why are you wearing them for a trip to the countryside? I thought you were smart!”

“Typical bloody PhD student – all those brains and no common sense,” Eren grumbles heading in Armin’s direction.

“I’ve got sensible clothes in my bag! I just wanted to be comfy for the journey. Plus their cute as fuck,” Armin adds with a cheeky grin that makes me smile.

“Alright c’mere princess.”

Eren sweeps Armin off their feet, earning a loud laugh from Sasha and a whoop from Historia.

“Eren!” Armin cries with a smile.

“Do you want your shoes to get muddy or not?” He starts heading to the door and calls over his shoulder, “Can someone get my bags? Hands are a bit full of idiot here!”

“Yeah I got ‘em,” I laugh, bending over my seat to reach into the back.

When I straighten up, I feel eyes on me and turn to see Marco, a red blush blooming on his face as he quickly looks down.

Erm…?

“H-here, let me take the guitars for you,” he says reaching out his hand, still not meeting my eyes.

“Oh, thanks.”

Was he…was he checking me out just now??

I walk around to the open boot, purposely (and unnecessarily) bending over again to get my own guitar.

“You threatening us with a good time Kirschtein?” Reiner barks behind us, laughing as he walks past with Bert in tow.

“You wish!” I yell as I dig around in the boot.

I look back at Marco with a sly grin, straightening up to give him mine and Eren’s guitars, but keeping my back arched so my ass sticks out.

“Here you go,” I say, my tongue poking slightly between my teeth.

“Thanks,” he replies, ducking his head with a smirk, the blush on his cheeks intensifying.

Excitement sparks through me as I watch him walk away. As if I just flirted with him! And he didn’t seem to mind!

I follow him along the yellow gravel path, lined with daisies and bluebells. The back door opens straight onto the kitchen, which is an impressive mix of exposed stone, patterned tiles and rich blue cabinets. My eyes follow the old, wooden beams across the ceiling, down to a large dining table at the opposite end.

“Woah. This place is stunning!” Marco chirps, turning in a slow circle as he takes it all in.

Cute.

He cranes his head to look up the staircase beside the back door.

“Should we put our bags in a room or-”

“Guys come see how cosy the living room is!” Armin yells, appearing in the doorway opposite us.

They reach forward and grab Marco’s hand before we’ve even had a chance to reply, dragging him through the door. I follow them both with a smile.

Wow. It certainly is cosy in here, though way bigger than I was expecting; they must have knocked down a wall down at some point. There are rugs all over the floor, cushions and throws all over the furniture and bookshelves all over the walls. Aside from the TV mounted on the wall, everything has a comforting, old-timey feel to it. The beams across the ceiling match the ones in the kitchen, but there’s no exposed stone from what I can see. Instead, a rich navy colour covers the walls.

Everyone’s in the living room now, except Sasha, but she soon makes her presence known.

“Hey guys?” she calls from the kitchen.

“Yeaaah?” a few of us reply.

She appears in the doorway with a look that spells ‘trouble’.

“Bedrooms are first come first serve and I may have forgot to mention, some are waaay nicer than others…Bagsie the master bedroom!” she cries racing off.

Everyone silently glances at each other before bursting into action. There’s a massive crush as we all try to fit through the doorway at once. Thankfully I hadn’t sat down yet so I get through quickly, heading for the staircase just ahead of everyone else.

I’ll get us a good room Marco don’t you wor- “Ahh!!”

Someone pulls my ankle and I land flat on the stairs. I look up to see Mikasa long-jumping over me and racing up the rest of the steps.

“Go Kasa!” Armin shouts somewhere behind me.

I try to get my legs back under me before I’m trampled. Luckily, the next thing I feel is a pair of warm hands hooking under my arms and lifting me up.

“Man down!” Marco laughs. “C’mon Jean we can do thi- Ahhh!”

Marco collapses on top of me as Eren scrambles over both of us.

“Eren! You fucking tool! Mikasa’s already won you a room!” I squawk.

Someone else tries to get passed us but Marco gets up before they manage it.

“Not so fast Bertie boy!” Marco cries, blocking Bert’s path. “Go on Jean! Go!”

I leave Marco to wrestle the giant and hop up the rest of the stairs two at a time. I dive left but quickly back up when I see the bunk beds against the wall – No fucking thank you! Footsteps thunder up the stairs so I take my chances with the first room on the right.

Oh thank fuck.

I hop up onto the double bed, claiming it as my own and more than willing to fight if anyone tries to take it from me.

Bert sticks his head in the door muttering a quick ‘shit’ when he sees me sitting on the bed. There’s a commotion further down hall. I really want to go look when I hear Sasha screaming ‘Mikasa! Put me down!’ but I dare not leave my spot.

“Bunk beds!? No fucking thank you!” Historia’s voice. I have an awful feeling about where this is going. “Haha! Give it up Kirschtein! This room is mine!”

She runs towards me, with a manic grin, trying to grab my legs so she can pull me off.

“No no no! Marco! Help!”

Historia and I both laugh and giggle as she tries to get a hold on me. I keep her at bay with the two pillows I’ve grabbed, just long enough for Marco to come in and save the day.

“Waahhh!”

Distracted by our battle for the bed, she doesn’t realise Marco’s behind her until he’s lifting her up over his shoulder.

“Oh no you don’t!” he laughs carrying her out as her little legs wiggle and kick.

He plops her on the floor, runs back inside and closes the door. I hop over to join him, both of us laughing as we brace ourselves, ready for someone to push it open. Luckily no one does and we slump down to the floor after a minute or two, our faces flushed from all the excitement.

“Seems like we’re safe for now,” I smile, leaning my head against the door.

“Yeah,” Marco replies taking in his surroundings. “Hey this room is pretty nice. Good job.”

It is now that I look at it. It’s not super big and the window doesn’t let much light in, but the peachy paint, wall tapestries and salt lamps create a really snug, mellow vibe.

“Aw look, they’re cute,” Marco says pointing up.

I smile at his reaction, looking up to see a dozen little crochet plant pots hanging from a wooden beam, woven flowers sitting inside each one. They do look very sweet all dangling there above the bed.

“My grandma used to crochet stuff for me, when she was alive,” I smile.

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head to look at me.

“Yeah, lots of bonnets when I was a baby, then toys. She was really good at animals. I had a whole farmyard at one point. My favourite was Buchwald the horse.”

“Buchwald?” Marco laughs, his breath tickling my cheek.

“Yeah, she was half German and she often gave them German names. His mane was really cool. It was made of this thick but super soft wool or something. I used to like running my fingers through it.”

“Oh I had a toy I used to do that with! Mine was a lion though. Rory - you know because…lions roar.”

An unattractive snort escapes me and he chuckles softly, his eyes not just looking at me, but seeming to take in my whole face. I wish I had the willpower to stay where I am, but I get a little flustered at our close proximity and get up, grabbing one of the cushions and a throw that’s fallen off the bed as I go.

“You reckon it’s safe to get our bags now?” he asks.

“Maybe, don’t let your guard down completely though. Hey Marco, look at this.”

I’d never even heard of this book until Marco gave it to me so I don’t know what the chances are of finding another copy here of all places but there it is – What we see in the stars – the book Marco gifted me after our visit to Trost museum, sitting on the stone windowsill.

“Oh wow!” Marco says when he sees what I’m holding.

Butterflies start flipping in my stomach. He reaches out and I swear I feel it hum with energy or some shit when he takes it from me. My pulse quickens. He holds it with a soft smile, glancing at the other star themed trinkets on the windowsill.

“Weird. It’s like we were meant to have this room,” he says with an awkward laugh.

Asddfghhjkl!! I was thinking it, but I didn’t think he’d actually fucking say it!

I nervously laugh too, my face turning crimson.

“Haha, yeah. Maybe it’s a good omen for some stargazing tonight.”

Then as if to say, ‘we’ll see about that’ Mother Nature decides to fuck me over – the gentle pitter-patter outside turns into a downpour, hammering against the window.

“Well fuck.”

“Yeah. Looks like we’re staying in tonight.”

_________________________________

After unpacking, nobody is in the mood to brave the rain for the sake of the pub, so we decide to have a night in; everyone’s brought some food for a buffet anyway. I have a quick shower, stick my comfy clothes on and then head downstairs to join everyone.

Eren and Armin are gathered around the woodburning fireplace, constructing a pile of logs and kindling. There’s a spot on the sofa next to Marco with my name on it. I sit next to him with a smile and a sigh, sinking into the plush green velvet.

“Do you guys even know what you’re doing?” Historia asks, looking rather regal sitting in a Chesterfield wingback chair.

“Well, I’m a man so I assume it’s in my DNA somewhere,” Eren smirks, knowing fine well he’s going to wind Historia up with that comment.

“That is the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard! Penises are not valid qualifications for fire building!” she protests.

“What about penises?” Reiner grins suddenly appearing in the doorway, earning a very big eyeroll from me.

“Yes!” Eren cries when the tiniest of fires flickers into existence, both arms in the air. “AND JESUS WEPT! FOR MAN HAD CREATED FIRE!” It flickers out the moment he stops speaking. “…Shit.”

Historia is beside herself, hanging over the arm of the chair and cackling at Eren’s disappointed face.

“Well you bloody have a go then!” he snaps.

“I’ve never lit a fire before and I’m not arrogant enough to just assume I can,” Historia snaps back.

“Maybe there’s a book somewhere explaining how to do it,” Armin suggests.

“Min we are NOT reading a book to find out how to do something as basic as light a fire,” Eren says with a huff.

Reiner and Bert opt for the biggest armchair, the shorter pulling the other one into his lap and twining their legs together.

“Thanks again for switching Historia,” Bert smiles.

“No worries. Though I’m sad I won’t get to see one of you trying to fit into that top bunk.”

“You’re too nice Historia. I’d have paid good money to see Bert sleeping in that with his big legs hanging off the end,” Marco smirks.

“Glad we didn’t come begging to you then,” Reiner says, throwing a cushion at Marco.

Once Eren and Armin (though mainly Mikasa) finally get the fire going we help out with food and before long, there are all kinds of tasty things to pick at on the dining table. Although not everything makes it there (Sasha insists on ‘testing’ everything before we lay it out). The homemade stuff looks especially good – some bread from Armin, a chickpea dahl from Historia and a pasta salad courtesy of Marco’s mam.

After everyone’s first plateful, we decide to dig out some board games for the evening’s entertainment. Though it takes us a while to agree on which one to play.

“We’ve got to play Monopoly,” states Armin. “It’s a classic!”

“Yeah, no. I’d rather not stay up until 4am mortgaging all my properties because you’ve somehow fucked me over again,” Eren glares.

“Let’s split into teams and start with something simple,” suggests Sasha. “Ooh! And whichever team wins the most games gets to snuggle Maggie!” she grins, grabbing a tiny highland cow from a nearby shelf and holding it aloft like a scene from the Lion King.

After a game of Boggle descends into ‘which team can make the dirtiest words’, we play an insanely intense game of Jenga, followed by a much less stress-inducing game of Pictionary. Whatever we play though, Marco and I have an absolute ball. Everything seems to make us laugh way more than usual and our desire to team up for everything creates lots of opportunities for playful touch. At one point, when he wins us a wedge in Trivial Pursuit, I squeeze his arm for a ‘well done’ and he boops me on the nose.

Cue me melting into a puddle on the rug.

By the time most of the buffet has gone, each team has one win a piece, so Eren demands a game of strip poker to decide the overall winner.

“Okay hands up who actually knows how to play poker,” Historia asks with an eyeroll in Eren’s direction.

Only Eren and Reiner put their hands up.

“Okay fine, fucking…Strip Go Fish then!” Eren smiles.

It’s such a ridiculous idea that we all agree to give it a go. However, we all quickly catch on to the fact that we’re all targeting Eren. By the time everyone’s had their first turn, he’s lost both socks and his t-shirt.

“Hey Eren, got any threes?” I grin.

“No! Go fucking fish bitch!”

I curse and pick up a card.

“Hey Eren?”

“For fucksake Marco.”

“Got any Jacks?”

“Fucking hell. YES,” he grouses, causing everyone to break into hysterics again as he shimmies out of his jeans and sits huffily in just his underwear. “Right my fucking turn. Sasha, you got any sixes?”

“Ugh. Yes,” Sasha grouses handing them over. “Da-da da daaaah! DA-da da daaaah…” she sings while seductively taking off her sock.

Reiner’s turn.

“Hey Eren?”

“Jesus Christ no.”

“You got any…aces?”

“…Oh you absolute anus face.”

Everyone simultaneously cheers and screeches with laughter, knowing Eren has no choice but to get naked.

“Why are you all so desperate to see me naked!?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Mikasa deadpans. “Serves you right for suggesting it.”

“C’mon Eren! Time to show us the goods!

“Off! Off! Off! Off!”

We all tap a drumroll on our legs as Eren reaches into his underwear to cup his junk with one hand and pulls them down with the other. When they reach the floor, the sound we make is deafening – Thank fuck there are no neighbours to worry about!

He sits down with a shit-eating grin. “Well at least you can’t all pick on me anymore.”

We continue the game until Sasha notices a set of headlights moving past the window – Connie is finally here. She gets up to meet him and returns moments later with a seriously tired looking Connie trailing behind her.

“Hey!” We all say, greeting him almost in unison.

“Hey!...Why the fuck is Eren naked?”

That sets us all off laughing again but we eventually compose ourselves enough to fill Connie in on all the details. Sasha offers to show Connie where he’s staying and we decide to give up on Go Fish, letting Eren put his clothes back on. Armin and Historia offer to make everyone a hot chocolate and we all settle into various cosy spots around the room.

I sneak a peek out the window for the hundredth time that evening. The rain has stopped but it’s still overcast. Not one fucking star in the sky.

Marco must sense my frustration when I sit down next to him with a huff.

"Still cloudy huh?"

"Yeah. Not even a patch of sky on show."

He taps at his phone. "Weather's meant to get better. Maybe we'll get lucky with the sky tomorrow night."

"Yeah I hope so. It would be shit to come out here and not see a single fucking star.” I look up to find Marco smiling at me. “Though I guess, there are other good things about being here.”

His eyes twinkle and there’s a pause - probably just a second but it feels like much longer.

“The hot chocolate?” he smiles cocking an eyebrow.

“Yes the hot chocolate, definitely the hot chocolate.”

“I figured.”

“Yeah.”

“Mmmhmm.”

We jostle each other in the shoulder with a giggle.

“Here you go!” Armin appears with two steaming mugs for us.

They beam at me when I take mine and I can’t help but smile back. It can’t all be in my head if Armin’s noticed too. Things between Marco and I have definitely shifted. Only ever so slightly, but enough to make my heart skip a beat at the possibilities of what it could mean…

Blushing, I take a sip of my drink and smile. Marco does the same before covering his mouth for a big yawn.

God, he looks so cute when his eyes get all scrunched up like that.

“You doing okay there sleeping beauty?”

Another yawn hits him straight after the first making me snort.

“Oof. Yeah sorry. I think this week’s catching up with me. I didn’t sleep too well the night before my interview and I’m still feeling it.”

“Aw. Don’t force yourself to stay up. No-one will mind if you wanna head off to bed.”

“Yeah I know but” - another big yawn cuts him off – “I don’t really want to…I’m having a good time.”

His sleepy eyes find mine and he smiles, so so softly…I can hardly bare to look at him but I’m powerless to stop.

If I kissed him right now, he’d taste of hot chocolate.

He looks down at his drink and takes a nice long sip. After setting his mug down he pulls out his hair tie and cards his fingers through his roots, shaking out his wavy tendrils, and then leans his head back against the sofa with a contented sigh.

It’s not even fair how gorgeous he looked doing that.

I shuffle along and close the tiny gap between our sides. Marco, understanding my intention, lets his head fall to my shoulder. He snuggles his cheek against the fabric of my t-shirt and settles down with a deep exhale.

I’ve just closed my eyes to enjoy the moment when Historia clears her throat, catching everyone’s attention.

“Soooo…anyone else noticed Sasha still hasn’t come back?”

“Oh?...Oh! Yeah, you’re right,” Eren answers.

We all share a moment of squeeing like excited schoolgirls, everyone sharing the hope that Sasha and Connie might finally become official. I feel relieved knowing Mikasa and Historia feel the same way. Sasha must have said something to them about wanting things to go in that direction.

After another half hour or so, the warmth of the hot chocolate starts to make everyone pretty sleepy so we all decide to get ready for bed. Marco grumbles when I nudge him awake from his doze, but his face immediately softens when he remembers where he is.

“C’mon buddy. Bedtime.”

I let Marco brush his teeth and use the bathroom first, and by the time I return he’s flat out asleep.

Doing my best not to disturb him, I climb under the covers and lie on my side facing him. I remember the last time we slept in the same bed and how nervous I felt. I remember how simultaneously over-the-moon and terrified I was. How my heart pounded in my chest.

This time I feel completely at peace. I let a goofy grin take over my face and breathe with Marco, watching his peaceful face with every inhale and exhale. I brush his hair out of his face and marvel at how steady my movements are, how unbothered I am by the prospect of him waking up and catching me. My eyes start to soften as I think about waking up next to him tomorrow and how much I’m looking forward to it…

_________________________________

“Jean…Hey Jean.”

There’s a warm hand on my arm, switching between stroking my skin and gently rocking me.

“Jean wake up,” the soft voice continues…Marco’s voice…and Marco’s fingers brushing my hair off my forehead.

“Hmm?” I scrunch up my eyes and roll over.

“Hey, you awake?”

“Y-yeah,” I manage, blinking my eyes until they adjust.

Marco’s sitting beside me on the bed, looking over me.

“What’s up? Are you okay?”

“Yeah sorry to wake you, it’s just…I just got up to pee and noticed the clouds have gone. You wanna go look at the stars?”

“Oh, erm,” it takes me a moment to process his words, but excitement sparks through me when my brain finally catches up. “Yeah definitely. Just err, gimme a sec to get changed.”

We shuffle about in the dark as we try to find our warmer clothes, the odd whispered giggle filling the silence when we inevitably bump into furniture or each other. Once we’re wrapped up nice and warm, I creak the bedroom door open, and we sneak downstairs as quietly as possible. I chance a look out the kitchen window when we reach the backdoor and see a starry patch of sky between the outline of two trees. My breath hitches in anticipation as I feel around for the torch hanging by the door frame.

“Marco, do me a favour,” I whisper, turning to him.

“Hmm?”

“Don't look up until I say so. Trust me it will be way better.”

“Alright.” I hear rather than see his smile.

“Okay let's go.”

The latch makes a soft click as I open the door and, thankfully, the hinges don’t squeak when I swing it open.

Cold air greets us, carrying that unique scent of rain, soil and pine needles you only ever get on a rainy day in the countryside. We step over the threshold and follow the light of my torch.

“Eep!” There's a loud crunch in the gravel as Marco grabs my shoulder. “I can't see where the dips are!” he giggles in a hushed voice.

“Here you numpty, hold my hand.”

Our palms slot together and I almost have to pinch myself over how warm and comforting and right they feel. I squeeze Marco’s hand as I tug him forward, navigating around the puddles until we reach the narrow road. There are less trees to block the view a few yards further down – the perfect viewing spot.

“We can just walk in a straight line from here so I’m gonna turn the torch off. Remember not to look up yet though.”

“Okay,” he replies giving my hand a quick squeeze.

I pocket the torch and wait a few seconds for our eyes to adjust to the darkness. Once I can make out my feet next to the grassy verge, I start walking.

“Hoo-hoo.”

“Aah!”

An owl flapping and hooting makes us both jump out of our skin and we grab each other, wheezing and giggling like a couple of idiots.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Marco whisper-shouts. “What the hell?”

“C-come on,” I laugh. “It’s not much further.”

This time I lace our fingers together, stroking my thumb over the back of his hand as I pull us further into the darkness. I feel his thumb do the same.

“Okay this should do. You ready?” I ask bouncing a little on the balls of my feet.

“Y-yeah,” he chuckles.

“Okay…look up.”

A sharp intake of breath punctuates the night air as we gasp at the sight before us. A canopy of lights, each unique in their depth and glow, consumes the sky above our heads.

“Oh my g-god.”

“I know.”

I will never get over this view. Never. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen it before; the sheer depth of the universe always knocks me for six. All this beautiful light filling the sky, despite having started its journey thousands, or even millions of years ago. It’s as if the starlight has travelled just for us, to create this perfect moment. I squeeze Marco’s hand tightly as I start to recognise some familiar sparkles.

“Look, you see that bright star there?” I ask, leaning into his space and pointing at the sky. “That’s Rigel. It’s the bottom of my favourite constellation Orion. See there, that’s Orion’s belt.”

“Oh yeah! Is that reddish one part of Orion?”

“Yeah that’s Betelgeuse! It’s a collapsing star! Oh and can you see those ones next to it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“That’s the constellation Gemini – that super bright star at the head of it is called Pollux. Oh, and that zigzagging cluster is Cassiopeia. And then if you go further up you can see the big dipper. It’s the one that’s kind of shaped like-”

I stop when I realise Marco’s gaze is no longer following the end of my finger. A million galaxies shine above his head but he’s looking at me. I can see them all reflected in his eyes, just like that time in the planetarium except even more breathtakingly beautiful. His thumb starts stroking my hand again as he takes a step closer.

“Jean…”

“…Yeah?”

His other hand moves to my waist and I forget how to breathe.

He closes the gap between us, so much so that I feel his breath tickle my skin…and then his lips touch mine.

It’s brief, barely even a peck before he draws back a fraction, only a whisper of space between us. He releases a shallow breath. My heart yammers in my chest. A heavy second passes between us, but then, when I squeeze his hand and start stroking his knuckles, he leans forward and finds my lips again.

The grip he has on my waist tightens as he untangles our fingers and holds the back of my head, pulling me closer to him. My own hands snake over his back, holding him just as tightly as I tilt my head and melt against his soft lips.

And then his tongue finds mine and I die on the spot.

Oh my god. I’m kissing him. I’m kissing Marco. I’M KISSING MARCO!

AND. I. CANNOT. GET. ENOUGH.

I feel overwhelmed and utterly insatiable all at once. Like, I know I’m kissing him, but I wish I was kissing him more somehow. I’m kissing him and I wish I was kissing him and I never want to stop kissing him…

…But he stops kissing me.

“Jean, wait I’m sorry I can’t…I don’t know if…I don’t know if I…”

I freeze.

“I mean…I want to kiss you, but…I can’t do this if it’s just a one-time thing okay? I don’t…I don’t want this to be something casual that we joke about at the next band practice like it was nothing. I-I…I like you, okay? I’ve liked you for a long time…longer than I should have…”

Fuck.

This is it. This is the moment. These are the words I’ve been longing to hear but never dared to believe I actually would. Holy fuck! But…the way he said them…

He doesn’t know. How can he not know?

How can he not know how much he means to me? How can he not know how much affection floods my body when I look at him? How I have to remind myself to breathe when he touches me. How my heart scorches me from the inside out every time we’ve ever said goodbye.

“J-Jean?” His voice breaks and my heart breaks with it.

I step forward and reach for his hands on instinct. There’s still a warmth to them, despite the chilly night air.

I’ve rehearsed this fantasy a thousand times in my head, but nothing prepares me for the real thing. I don’t know where to begin, whether it’s even possible to make him understand the depth of my adoration.

He squeezes my fingers ever so slightly, like he’s scared anything more might break me, but his delicate touch is all the courage I need to start speaking.

“Marco…you were never a ‘one-time’ option for me.”

His breath hitches, eyes sparkling as he lifts his head to look at me again.

“I like you too okay? Like, A LOT. I think…I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met and I you’re my favourite person to spend time with, but it’s been getting harder and harder because of how much I want to touch you all the time and kiss you and stroke your hair and-”

I puff out a breath and gather my thoughts. The darkness makes it easier to say what I want to say.

“I don’t want this to be a ‘one-time’ thing either. I want…I want everything with you.”

He steps forward, kisses me again and all the stars above our heads turn supernova.

[thatblondeperson]

What did you think of the Robin/Spoiler special that came out around 2008?

It's definitely an interesting special. The timeline on this is way iffy. It definitely takes place after Robin issue 174 but where Tim is with Zo and Steph is a bit fuzzy. It's before they had their falling out because Tim is still calling Steph his sort of not girlfriend in issue 177.

And neither of them know if they're dating or not in the special.

On one hand, they gave Steph friends which is a first in a very long time. It's a weird group to give her given that they're loose canons in a law-breaking way, but on the other hand that makes sense for Steph. She seems to want to be a good influence while still being able to relax and let loose and I love that for her. Too bad nothing ever came of this.

It's very clear that Stephanie still has feelings for Tim, which carries over into their collision issues in their 2009 arcs. I think she does genuinely hold those feelings until they team up or hang out and by then she's kind of bursting to the point where it's all cloudy. It's nice to see the traces here because I think it's integral to how the two of them work, always sort of holding those feelings. Putting a pin in them to address later, circumstances willing.

I do love that we actually got an idea of what Stephanie went through in her time away, what she did, who she was. It's a shame they wrote her as having what seemed like a year of growth away from Gotham, and then obliterated it later.

She's helping Leslie, gaining medical expertise. She's absolutely beautiful in this little arc too.

But despite the new surroundings, she's still Steph. She wants to do more, be more than what she is. She's dreaming of Spoiler.

And it ends up taking her away from her new environment.

She is who she is.

I think it's a genuinely sweet little look at Stephanie's character. How she's been trying to piece herself back together, why she comes back, why she'll always come back. She can't sit still, she needs to have outlets, and she needs to help others. It's nice to have a kind of resting point to examine where she and Tim are, and I love love love how it's all one big diary entry. It's personal, it's soft, it's optimistic.

It's a checkpoint, anon, but I think it's a fairly good one. If only everything hadn't gone to shit right after because this would have been a nice, mellow transition into Stephanie's Batgirl run. Allowing her to figure out who she is, where her p[lace is and always has been, and moving on and up from there, on comfortable terms with Tim as well. Not that I don't love the angst, but it could have come from general awkwardness and the palpable tension between them, without it being about distrust. They already had shared trauma from several other places. We could have worked with all of that and gotten a very similar, but less character decimating, outcome.

Alas.

[frantic-fuck]

Hey Ziri how's it going dude?

Snakelet - Chapter 9

@randowhump birthday event - Winged Whump (4) and Hallucinations (14)

Masterpost

Content: Nonhuman/vampire/winged whumpee, pinned to a board, psychosis, maybe unreality?

Figured I'd give you a twofer to make up for lost time, lol. Happy birthday!

~

Ziri jolts with a start at the unfamiliar voice, eyes darting back and forth to find the source.

"Tsk. I told you not to move, little bird," chides the torturer of the day. "Now I'll have to add even more pins."

"P— plea— GAAAAUGH!" He chokes out a scream as they drive another stake into his wing, splitting flesh and bone alike to pin him to a board like a fucking butterfly.

Desperate for a distraction, he focuses on the voice. It seems like it's still just him and his assailant in the room, and even if they did bring another torturer in, they wouldn't just... casually ask something like that. They'd be all gloaty and stupid about it.

It must be a new voice in his head. Wonderful. Like he needs more.

...Unless it's actually—

No. Stop. Stop. It's — probably — not real. And if it is, he'll deal with that problem later, because there's approximately fuck all he can do right now.

Fuck, what was the question again? It was a question, right? It felt like a stupid question.

Ah, right.

He responds in his head, as he does the other conversational voices. Janessa taught him long ago not to respond aloud, not around people who want him to suffer. He does not need help losing touch with reality, especially now.

Not great. Really bad, actually. Horrible. Worst I've ever been.

Another stake shatters his bones and train of thought alike before he can figure out another way to phrase the same thing.

He hopes this voice is one of the nice ones, if it sticks around. Good company is.. sorely needed.

"Last one, birdie."

His throat beyond raw, he cries out at the top of his lungs as they finally, finally, drive the last stake into his wing.

...Second to last. Bastard.

"Gotcha, didn't I?" They laugh. "Nearly done. Just need to take care of your pretty little arms and legs. Those ugly straps are doing them such a disservice..."

A shuddery sob escapes him as they unstrap one of his arms and lift it, no amount of faux gentleness enough to prevent agony shooting through his impaled shoulder.

"Oh, you poor thing. Does it hurt?" They grin as they lazily wobble his limp arm back and forth, further straining the wound. He wants nothing more than to tear it from their grasp, but even without the fear of punishment, he's not sure if he'd have the strength to manage it.

All too happy with his miserable resignation, they fasten a golden manacle to his wrist. It's too tight.

He nearly laughs at the complaint. It's so mundane in comparison to the rest of his suffering.

He clings to the amusement for any trace of comfort when they begin pounding another stake into...

Not him.

Not him.

The chain he hears, probably. With every strike, he has to remind himself that it isn't him. They're clearly relishing in his terror.

Once his arms and legs have all been chained up, the assailant finally steps back, appreciating his work.

"Oh, you're perfect. Don't go anywhere, little bird."

With an infuriating chuckle at their own stupid joke, they finally leave Ziri alone. The silent one resumes gently braiding his hair, and as much as he'd rather not be touched at all, he supposes beggars can't be choosers.

All too soon, the door opens, and the braiding stops. The first piece of shit walks in with another one, who ogles at him uncomfortably before they each grab one side of the board he's been pinned to.

"One, two, three, hup!"

They turn the board horizontal, and a scream claws out of his throat when his body weight suddenly pulls on the stakes impaling him, inflicting an entirely new level of pain. And of course, they make no effort to avoid jostling him as they carry him away.

It's so, so tempting to escape into his own head, but he forces himself to try to process what's going on. He can't risk making a habit of dissociating. As much as every ounce of his brain DESPERATELY wants to. He needs to be present when he gets back. He needs to be useful to Janessa.

For Zop.

For Zop.

For Zop, he strains to pay attention to where he's being carried. But every detail he takes note of is jolted back out by a bump in the ride.

...He's going to get Zop tortured again, at this rate.

Eventually, he can vaguely tell that he's being hung to a wall. Gathered around him are all the bastards with such a vested interest in his misery, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the pitiful display of helpless agony.

The piece of shit who did it stands back, admiring their work.

"You really are gorgeous."

[anticomedygarden]

England's got a new queen! part 4

part one | ao3 link

-

Nora has been on her laptop for five hours now. It is not by any means her longest stretch or even her average of long stretches, but she's hit a dead end. And that's not okay.

On the bed, June and Pez are eating lunch, something a staffer delivered in a fast food bag, and it smells really good. It's not like Nora can't go and get some, anyway; there's an order in there for her. She just can't stop.

"Nora, why don't you take a break and eat?" Pez suggests, holding out a takeout container while June snorts and mutters, "Fat chance."

She grabs it but sets it on the floor, turning back to the screen.

She must expect Pez to leave her alone and go back to his food; after all, everybody else has learned to by now. So whenever he says, "Alright," and settles down on the floor next to her, she's a little surprised. "Where are you at?"

Once the shock of someone trying to break through her research haze wears off, she is then hit with the shock of someone actually asking what she's doing.

Pez is lucky, though, because he found her at a point he can understand. "I gathered everybody who's ever said anything bad about Queen Mary, Ellen, and the rest of us, figured out which of them have connections here and in England, and a whole bunch of other criteria, and there's still dozens of people. Plus, there's no guarantee that whoever's doing this is even on this list, or that there's only one person, or even that all of this is someone's fault!" Her eyes don't move from her laptop throughout her tirade, and Pez grabs her hands to bring them below her head.

"Have you considered that there may not be anything you can do right now?" Pez asks gently.

Nora stills, blinking owlishly. "There has to be something I can do." She's freaking Nora Holleran. If she can't do anything, then what use is she?

"I really don't think there is," Pez says. "There's an incredible amount of people in the world who hate us and the Queen, even when you make assumptions. If you keep trying to narrow the list down, you'll end up profiling."

God. She hates that he's right.

He must sense that she's about to give in because he slowly closes her laptop and puts the takeout container in her lap. "Now, eat."

He doesn't have to tell her twice. The first bite somehow opens up a hole in her stomach she hadn't realized was there, and soon, it's all gone. She turns to him. "How the fuck are you so calm right now?"

Pez laughs. "Look at me, babe. I grew up at Eton. I've been getting death threats my whole life."

Well, she can't argue with that.

"Um, guys," June says quietly from the bed.

They look up only to see the First Daughter of the United State's face red and swollen.

"Oh my god!" Nora shrieks and jumps up immediately. Pez does the same behind her. "Where's your EpiPen?"

She lifts a shaking finger. "P-purse."

Pez grabs it off the chair by the window and shoves it into Nora's hands who dumps it out on the bed.

"Go get Amy," she commands as she looks for the injector. She spots it and grabs it up, removes the blue cap, and swings the orange end (Blue to the sky, orange to the thigh, she thinks) down into June's thigh and holds it there. She counts to 3 slowly and hears a click, then removes it and holds it in her hand, unsure what to do with it now.

Thankfully, June's breathing is already getting better, less wheezy, and her forehead glistens with sweat.

"Alright," she mutters, cupping the back of June's head. "You're okay."

June makes an odd noise, somewhere between a gasp and the sound of a drowning man.

Someone at the door brings her attention away from June.

It's Pez and Amy.

The head of security takes one look at June supine on the bed and the EpiPen in Nora's hands and says, "What the shit, guys?"

Nora has no response.

-

When Alex comes into the kitchen on their third morning of vacation, there's a note on the table from Cash that simply says, Out. Alex doesn't quite know what to do with that, so he just starts making breakfast. They're running out of supplies left over from the last people who stayed at the cabin, so breakfast this morning is Jaffa Cakes and eggs. Henry seems to like it, though, so Alex doesn't complain.

While is Henry is washing dishes, Alex goes into the living room to find something to do for the day.

They had discovered early that the TV wasn't connected to anything that got regular channels, yet there was a DVD player and no DVDs.

He decides to search the end table this time, but he doesn't have much hope. It is a little circular thing with a tiny door. Maybe there are cards in it or something.

Bingo. When he opens the door, he sees at least two decks of cards, UNO, and Life. He grabs UNO and starts setting it up.

"Oh, good, you found games," Henry says, walking in and sitting down on the floor in front of Alex.

"Yeah, baby, I'm gonna destroy you," Alex says.

Henry snorts. "Good luck."

Oh, it's on.

Right off the bat, Alex has to draw a bunch of cards because he doesn't have the right color.

"This is stupid," he says.

Henry refuses to comfort him, and it's all downhill from there.

Finally, they both get down to two cards, and Alex, thinking he has it in the bag, lays down a plus four and proudly yells out, "UNO!"

His victory is short lived. Henry smirks up at him.

"Don't you fucking dare," Alex warns.

"Sorry, babe." He lays a fucking plus four down on Alex's. "Uno."

Before Alex can even start drawing his eight cards, Henry lays down his last one - wild card.

"Oh, fuck you," Alex spits out and throws his cards at his boyfriend. "We're playing something else now."

Henry laughs as he gathers up the cards and puts them back in the box. "What did you have in mind?"

Alex pulls the only board game out of the cabinet. "The Game of Life."

Henry cocks his head. "I've never played it before."

Perfect. "It's great, you'll love it."

Alex sets up the game board quickly because he doesn't put the little extra pieces in, determined to beat Henry at something before they inevitably move into the bedroom.

"You spin first," he tells Henry.

"I don't even know how to play yet," he protests.

Alex grins. "You can learn as we go. Spin."

Henry sighs but does it resolutely, as if he already knows he's about to lose.

Ten minutes later, Alex is sitting pretty on $400,000, a pro sports salary, and the deep wood cabin.

"How am I in so much debt?" Henry asks pitifully as he lands on yet another tax day. "Why would I ever buy a mansion on a teacher's salary?"

"Sorry, babe, sucks to suck." Henry glares at him, and Alex sticks his tongue out.

A few minutes later, Henry tries a new tactic.

"Why don't we end here, darling? There's no possible way for me to catch up." He puts a hand on Alex's thigh and rubs his index finger there.

"Nuh uh, not after UNO." He cheers as he spins a ten. "Wooh, payday!"

"Come on, baby." Henry leans forward and puts his other hand on Alex's neck-

"Baby, I only have a few spaces left, just hold on." He has to stay strong.

Henry leans back and groans. "Shouldn't I be getting another salary from my husband?"

"No, all NPCs are homemakers." He lands on spin again and rolls a nine this time.

Sweet. He only needed seven to finish.

"Thank god," Henry breathes. Then, he reaches over the board and takes the little driver out of his blue car and swaps it with Alex's passenger. "Now you can provide for me. FYI, I'm $645,000 in debt."

Alex throws his head back and laughs, and, without further preamble, they stumble back into the bedroom.

-

A couple hours later finds Nora in an armchair, back in the sitting room where all this shit had started three days ago watching June bug Ellen into finally trying to reach Alex and Henry in Colorado.

"Sugar, I told you, they're safer where they are," Ellen insists. It's kind of amazing the president can even be here with them at this time of day, but once she heard about her daughter's allergic reaction, she had raced straight to June's bedroom. Unfortunately, the moment June had been able to speak, she'd been making the case for contacting her brother and his boyfriend and bringing them home.

Nora isn't sure if the sudden increase in anxiety is from the current situation or the use of epinephrine. Probably both.

"We have no way of knowing that, though," June points out, "because no one's been in contact with them for three days."

"Two and a half," Ellen says and crosses her arms.

Nora and Pez glance at each other again, amusement written on both their faces. Ellen and June had been arguing since the on-call doctor gave the all clear about ten minutes ago.

June tries a new tactic. "Please, Mom. It can't hurt just to try."

Ellen's face softens minutely. Bingo.

"I just almost died. You can't say no to me." June looks smug now, knowing she's won.

Ellen sighs. "Fine, but I'm not forcing them to come home early."

June nods, satisfied, and Ellen turns in the direction of the Oval Office.

When she turns to Pez and Nora, she's smirking. "She should know by now that as soon as Alex finds out what's going on, he'll want to be right in the middle of it, celebrating."

Nora giggles because she's not wrong.

They chatter mindlessly for a while, and Nora begins to appreciate what Pez told her earlier despite the newest emergency.

However, when Ellen comes back an hour later with scrunched eyebrows and a frown on her face, Nora hands itch for her laptop, and she sits up and says, "What is it?"

Ellen wrings her hands. "Well, we couldn't get a line out to them," she starts, "and we couldn't get Cash either."

"What about comms?" Nora asks immediately. She hadn't expected for them to be reachable by phone, but still. Something should be working.

Ellen shakes her head. "Nothing's getting through."

"Well, can't we send someone to go get them?" June asks.

Ellen looks even more concerned at that. "That's the other problem. The cabin they chose isn't technically-" she pauses, thinking of the right word "-on the grid."

Pez pipes up next. "We don't know where they are?"

"No."

June stands from where she was seated next to Pez on the couch. "So why don't we send someone to drive up and down the unplotted parts of Colorado?"

Nora doesn't have the heart to tell her how ridiculous that sounds, not when she looks so panicked.

"Sugar, you know exactly why we can't do that."

"But they could have been kidnapped or eaten by a bear or something! Mom, there's someone trying to kill us-"

"Allegedly trying to kill us, sweetheart. I can't send a manhunt through an entire state when there may not even be a threat." Unfortunately, she is correct. That would be an incredible abuse of power, however funny it would be whenever Alex found out about it.

"I was basically just poisoned! How can you now see what's going on?"

"You had an allergic reaction to peanut oil. That is not poisoning. The restaurant probably just messed up, or the Internet forgot to tell them about your allergy again."

June fixes her lazer focus on Nora next. "Can't you get into Alex's laptop and figure out where they are or at least who they booked the cabin through?"

If she could've, she would've already, but- "No, they booked it under Henry's name, and I don't know his password."

"Can't you hack in?"

"Royal firewalls are even tighter than ours," Nora says, wishing she had a better answer.

June looks back at her mom. "So that's it? We just have to sit and wait?"

Ellen nods. "I'm sorry, baby."

Suddenly, they are interrupted by Oscar Diaz running into the room and making a beeline for June. "Mija, I'm so sorry, they wouldn't let me leave. How are you feeling?"

June glares at her mother over Oscar's shoulder and says, "Fine, now. Did you know we lost Alex and Henry?"

He pulls back abruptly. "What?"

"We don't know that," Ellen interrupts.

Her daughter will not be silenced. "We don't know where they are, now do we?"

Before Ellen can respond, June's phone starts to ring.

She looks up with wide eyes. "It's Philip."

There's a general look around the room of, What the fuck?

"Answer it," Oscar urges, and Pez tells her to put it on speaker.

She does. "Hello?"

Instead of Philip, a woman's voice answers in a hushed tone. "June?"

June narrows her eyes. "Bea?"

"Yeah, it's me," the Princess of Wales answers, still whispering. "Philip took all our phones and hid them because he's scared of another leak and Mum actually agreed with him, so I had to steal his. Are all of you alright?"

June looks around at everybody. "Well, that's actually a funny story, but we can talk about that later. What about you guys? How's the Queen?"

"Not good," Bea says, not sounding very unhappy. "What do you mean 'funny story?'"

Nora decides to break in. "June went into anaphylactic shock from peanut oil, and weird shit keeps happening."

"Nora? Who all is there?" She pauses. "Is June okay?"

"Hello, Bea," Ellen says. "It's me, June, Nora, Oscar, and Pez."

"I'm fine, by the way," June says.

"That's wonderful," Bea remarks. "Listen, I don't have much time. Are Alex and Henry nearby?"

Pez takes it this time. "They're somewhere in Colorado, actually."

"They're not back, yet?"

"We can't get in contact with them."

June breaks in. "What happened with the broken pipe?"

"It exploded and destroyed a 320 year old sitting room, but the bigger issue is that a bunch OF PPOs called in sick."

Ellen gasps. "Do you think it could be related?"

"That's the working theory, yes."

Another voice joins Bea's side of the call. "Bea? Where are you?"

"Shit, I have to go. Please be safe, and call Philip if you get in touch with Henry and Alex. Bye!"

She hangs up.

-

Alex drags Henry into the bedroom by the hand, giggling. He can't stop himself from continually looking backwards, too, taking in the sight of his love happy and grinning wide. Everytime he looks at Henry, he immediately thinks about how his boyfriend completely wiped the floor with him at Uno and then stuttered and blushed through an absolutely erotic game of Life.

Alex's thighs hit the edge of the bed, and he turns to fully face Henry.

The prince doesn't let him stop for even a second before pushing him backward onto the mattress.

"Baby," Alex gasps.

"Shh," Henry urges, pressing his whole hand against Alex's mouth. "You'll get your turn."

"Baby, you know you can't shut me up for long." Nevertheless, Alex waits only long enough for Henry to pull their shirts off. Then, he plants his left leg on the bed and flips them over so he's looking down at Henry's flushed face.

"Told you," he pants. "How's it feel, Mr. Prince?"

"Not - ah - prince for much longer," Henry points out.

"God, sweetheart, do you know how sexy it is when you talk about abdication?" Alex says, barely holding on, thinking about his boyfriend giving up the throne for him, so that he would be a prince for no one but Alex. And it isn't just sex talk; Henry had decided - with Alex's minimal input - that abdication was the best route for them (and just the right thing to do).

Alex knows it isn't just for him, but it's fun to think of it that way.

"If you - haa - like that," Henry narrowly manages to bite out, "what if I talk about the redistribution of - hmm - stolen arti-aah-facts back to their home countries?"

Alex actually has to take a minute to rest his head on Henry's chest while he calms down, and a deep laugh makes his head shake. "Baby, you can't say shit like that when my pants are still on."

Henry's grin is maniacal. "Let's rectify that, shall we?"

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

I’m just wondering when and how did you get into bts?

I've always known about them. Been a k-pop fan since the start of SHINee (and I'm still a fan of them, counting down the days until Taemin returns). I was a huge DBSK fan until *ahem* things happened. I've always seen BTS on music shows, ofc. 'FIRE' made me think, these guys are p good, but the song that really made me deep dive into them was 'Blood, Sweat and Tears' (go figure, I'm predictable).

During BTS's early years, I was going through some personal shit, so I put k-pop on the back burner. For me, music holds a lot of memory of the time I listened to it. If I listen to certain music when I'm in a bad place, listening to it again will cause me to remember those feelings. Some of my favorite English-speaking bands I had to re-listen to over and over so they stopped reminding me of really shit times. It was incredibly painful to have to unlearn that. I think subconsciously I didn't want to never listen to j-pop or k-pop again, so I stayed pretty surface-level for a couple years and didn't closely follow any group. My memories of that time are actually kinda fuzzy, but that's a talk for another time. Then things got better, around the time BST was released, and I got back into the Asian bands I used to listen to as a teenager, plus new ones.

When I find something I like, I want to know everything about it.

still remains one of my favorite photos of him

I like artists that write their own music, and Yoongi stuck out to me right away. Intuition (and I'm not wrong when I like someone right away, ohohoho). He wasn't solidified as my bias until I read the English translation of 'Dead Leaves' and I learned he produced it. I've always related to the things Yoongi had to say in his music. Will probably be a fan of him forever (so, to me at least, Yoongi, you're always in your prime :D) Funnily enough, he also said he used to listen to Japanese music a lot in middle school, which is when I too had my j-pop craze XD

Then...

2018 came.

and I found myself having a bias wrecker hahaha I was an idiot, I know but, that's fine, people have bias wreck-

I tried to hold out

I failed

now I'm trapped and can't leave, send help

now Yoongi's 30 and shirtless???? and even hotter than he was in his 20's? actually the definition of not allowed!

[characterworkshoppe]

So I've sort of somehow got super into DC where it now has a very bad chokehold on my life...I'm still new to A LOT of stuff and I'm still figuring shit out...and it feels somewhat like a scavenger hunt like..."now what should I watch after watching ..." but still fun :p

I need to ramble about this since everyone I know who is also low key into this stuff is either asleep or busy and I'm just itching to talk about it :p

Anyways...I watched a lot of Batman/Batfamily stuff which I adore...and words cannot convey how much I love the bat family webtoon...

And irl I somehow got my sister crushing on Jason Todd so there's that...

I also really liked watching some Super fam stuff...because yeah...I don't know why before I tried DC I genuinely thought I'd hate superman...BUT CLARK IS FUCKING ADORABLE SO IDK, FIGHT ME PAST SELF!!!! Superman and Lois was a cute series and waiting for October is difficult XD

I also adore J'onn J'onzz and genuinely want more shit with him in it!!!! I need more J'onn T-T I watched Young Justice and some other thing I forget...and I just need more of him...his presence in my life is lacking and I need more...

But what's currently rn on my mind is I am really into this one Green Lantern character and idk what other comics to read with her in it!!!!

Anyways her name is Soranik, and I'm so fucking obsessed XD

She's gorgeous, smart af, and just...I need more...

I read Green Lantern Corp : Recharge...all the way through...which I enjoyed...

BUT I CAN'T FOR THE LIFE OF ME FIND OTHER COMICS WITH HER IN IT!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH SOMEONE PLS TELL ME!!!! I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT COMICS SO IDK HOW TO FIGURE OUT OTHER THINGS THAT SHE'S IN!!!!

But I fucking love her!!!

Anyways thank you for listening to my DC rant! Ahhhh >//////<

[evan-on-the-internet]

A vent I'll delete later :3

uhm. Read this if you want, I guess?

It's messy and unorganized :P

I'm so tired. I'm so hungry. There's an ache in my bones and it won't go away. I hate it here, but I don't ever want to leave.

My parents are falling apart. My older brother is having severe health issues. My youngest brother is neglected.

My mom doesn't pay as much attention to her kids as she needs to. My dad is trying, and I credit him for that. They aren't bad people, I just don't think they were ready to be parents.

There's never enough attention distributed, we don't have any food that I'll actually enjoy; and the only food we do have that I'd enjoy is strictly for my older brother. The public school I go to doesn't feed us enough to feel full, and there's never any food waiting for me at home. Half of the time, dinner isn't even something I'll eat.

I know other people have it worse, but I feel like I'm dying. I know I'm a kid, I know I'm young and stupid or whatever, but the world is falling apart.

My siblings, I love them to death, but I can never find peace. My older brother has a lot of shit up in his head (as on being nerodivergent and severely traumatized) and it's not his fault, but his moods changed so quickly I can't keep up. My younger brother always irritates me, and I can't figure out why. It's not like he's doing anything wrong. neither of them are.

My irl friends, I can never find time for them. I'm always in pain, or tired, or overbooked. I run out of spoons way too quickly. I'm doing a bit better though.

My online friend, I am nowhere near good enough for them. I can't help, I can't make them feel better, I can't do anything but repeat the same three sentences.

There's an ache in my bones that won't go away, and it hurts. I don't want to live like this. I CAN'T live like this. It hurts. I think I'm chronically ill, but I refuse to self diagnose.

I'm still not on any medications for my depression or anxiety, I haven't gotten my new glasses yet, I don't have enough clothes that are comfortable to wear. And maybe that's just me being overdramatic or having an overreaction, but I'm picky, okay?

I'm tired. I'm tired of having an ache in my bones that won't leave. I'm tired of having spirals in and out of depression. I'm tired of my house and my family. I'm tired of being hungry.

I'm so tired of living in a body that isn't mine. I'm so tired of being stupid, and lazy, and overall; unhelpful. I'm so tired of being me.

I never fix any of my issues because I don't know how to communicate properly and I can never seem to find the words to say when there's an opportunity. I'm so angry at the world and at myself and at everything all of the time.

I hate it here. I hate my house, I hate my situation, I hate my body, I hate that the world is falling apart. I hate everything.

but at the same time, I love it here and I never want to leave. I love being here, I love my house, I love my situation. I love my body when I forget who I am, and I love that I can find good people to remind me the world still has hope.

It's messy and confusing and it feels like everything is washing up over me like the tidal waves at a beach.

I just wish that the ache in my bones would go away.

[jimi-rawlings]

Screwface Capital

"Screwface Capital"

And I want you now with me

And I want you now with me

And I...

I made a link with the Russians

Six figure discussions, dinners in public

My linen all tailored

My outstanding payments swift like Taylor

And boy I owe 'dem men a beatin'

But don't watch what I'm makin'

Just know I put both of the P's in opp

At the same time, I put the "pay" in paigon

Man wanna beef, don't know what the stakes is

Broad daylight, do a nigga want a day shift?

Three scales got 'em livin' on basic

My location changes quicker than gears on a brand new Porsche Cayman

I told RJ put down the line and he did

But he's got another three like H's

I gotta watch for the greed and the hatred

I'm sayin' who's on votes?

We hit up a nigga and see who's on smoke when it's that time

You can run that shit there and it's cool but you can't hear like a bad line

It's been fifteen minutes since me and her fucked and I'm sayin' "What you still in the house for?"

Girls say I'm rude but they won't never leave, 'cause you know the jab right like southpaws

Outdoors, me and my niggas are all outlaws

I tell a man speak with respect

How you gonna say that we beef with your chest

Like Sergei didn't G-lean on your set?

I do not have one neek as a friend

If it's beef on the ends than it's bleaker for them

This ting's comin' like Pokemon GO

'Cause I see man once, never seen him again

Man don't really wanna walk to the shop

Or jump in the train 'cause the ends got tension

One eye on my opps, two eyes on my friends

'Cause at least my opps, man knows their intentions

I turned a loss to a lesson

I turned a curse to a gift and a blessing

Any girl that I've got an interest in

Face interesting, body impressive

I got ninety-nine out of a hundred marks in class on my English questions

I'd get the same if I did it again 'cause I still don't know the definition of restin'

I've put blood in, I've put sweat in

I shed tears when my niggas got sentenced

I spent years with my niggas in Streatham

But you wouldn't know that 'cause you don't live this

What have you done for your siblings?

I made sure that the family's sweet

So many days that I starved myself just to make sure that my whole family eats

The Merc is a beast and I'm blackin' it out

One point nine on the plan for a house

I ain't got a memory of when dad was around

Still a child when I turned man of the house

Tell me what you know about a bag full of bills

And your mom crying out, saying, "Son, I can't take it"

And then staring in the mirror for an hour

With a tear in your eye like, "I gotta go make it"

Ever seen a good friend turn paigon?

A pretty girl glow down, turn basic?

Ever seen a nigga 'nough man rated

Losing his mind 'cause of food that he's takin'?

You're either a lamb or you're Hannibal

Good kid but I grew up 'round animals

No chick can't tell me about attitude

I got a girl from the Screwface Capital

And I want

And I, and I

And I, and I, and I, and I

And I want, and I want

And I want

And I, and I

And I, and I, and I, and I

And I want, and I want

And I want

And I, and I

And I, and I, and I, and I

And I want, and I want

And I want

And I, and I

And I, and I, and I, and I

And I want, and I want

MONTRÉAL

[mydissociativediaries]

6/2/2023: Timeline pt. 2

I'm trying to figure out a serious timeline for the events in my life, so here we go:

8/7/1999: Date my sister was born.

2001: I heavily associate the song "Blood" by Abandoned Pools with my repressed memories, whatever those are. I haven't thought about that as much lately because I've been focusing on my inner child selves, but...it's still in there, and something definitely happened. I don't think it happened in 2001--seems like it happened when I was a toddler? Who knows. I don't: it's a repressed memory!

2001/2002 (maybe): My mom told me that I started doing "it" two years ago.

2002: I could not BELIEVE this happened so early. When I was in elementary school, a classmate asked me which songs I relate to. I said "I'm Just a Kid" by Simple Plan and even started singing "I'm just a kid, and life is a nightmare..." I'm sure my classmate didn't believe me because my life looked happy from the outside, but in any case, I can't believe that my childhood depression started that early. I was only, what--maybe 9 or 10? I remember hearing Simple Plan on the radio, so it wasn't long after that album came out. MAYBE I listened to it a year or two later after listening to Simple Plan's more recent (at the time) music? The abuse did start when I was around 8 years old, so it's possible that I could've been showing signs of depression at that age. I wish I could remember what grade I was in.

2003 (maybe): Bad memory associated with "Hey Ya" by Outkast. I'm pretty sure I was listening to that song not long after it came out.

8/7/2003: Mom telling me that she won't let me play any games if I don't stop [action] at Chuck E. Cheese, which is where we were holding my asshole sister's 4th birthday party.

2004 (maybe): Mom telling me "When Daddy asked me if you [action], I said 'no'" while trying to guilt-trip me. Might've been a year or two earlier, but I feel like it was around the sentence-writing period.

2004: I remember writing sentences as a punishment, so I was well into the abuse by then. I would've been around 10 or 11. I know this year because I recall the (at the time) new episode of The Simpsons that my parents were watching. I didn't remember the title, but I looked up one of the lines that I recalled and found that date. I actually remember my dad giving me shit because he thought that I was watching the episode instead of writing sentences.

2004: One of my worst days also took place in that year. I can place it because we went to see the movie Starsky and Hutch (apparently, my mom enjoyed the original show), and...yeah, a lot of shit happened in that theater. I looked up the movie and found that date.

2004/2005 (maybe): Dad giving me shit in a restaurant--possibly Culver's--while I was trying to read H-rry P-tter and the Order of the Ph-enix (censored to keep this out of the HP tags.) The book came out in 2003, but I don't think I was reading it immediately afterward. In fact, I'm 99% sure I'd read it several times before. Likely, I was reading it at least a couple of years after it came out.

2004/2005 (maybe): Parents yelling at me in a restaurant at the mall. I was trying to read one of the books in The Clique series, and I think it was Best Friends for Never, which came out in 2004. I don't think I was reading it right after it came out, though. Could've been two or three years later for all I know.

2005: I have a memory of my mom threatening to punish me by not letting me watch "Star Trek: Enterprise." I think that was during the final season.

2005: I think my dad yelled at me on/around Christmas while I was reading H-rry P-tter and the H-lf-blood Pr-nce. This memory's a little shaky, though.

2005: Listening to "Different" by Acceptance on the radio and thinking that I wanted this song to play at my funeral if I killed myself.

2005/2006 (maybe): Dad flicked the headphones off my head to yell at me. I remember seeing autumn leaves around the truck. I'm uncertain about the date because a comic that I drew triggered this memory (a character flicked another character's hat off his head), which was recent at the time, and I think I was 12 or 13 when I was drawing those comics? Maybe 14? Incidentally, another comic that I drew had a triggering scene: a character saying "He's still doing that? I thought we were DONE with that!", something that my mom had said. Was I subconsciously trying to trigger myself?

2005/2006 (maybe): Thinking about it now, that triggering event that I just mentioned must've happened around the same time. (My dad followed up my mom's comment with "We are. That was the last one," directed at me.)

2005/2006 (maybe): Me telling an online friend "I've been through more than you know" during an argument. Hmm, what do you think I was referring to?

2006: I bought a Michael Crichton book called "Next" that came out that year. A couple of lines in that book about an artificial ear (it's the word "ear" that got to me--yeah, I know, it's weird) triggered severe flashbacks. I still remember those events vividly, but the memories were REALLY vivid at the time, suggesting that they'd happened recently. Still, it might not have been in the same year. The incident could've happened a year or two previously, and I'd probably still have vivid recollections.

5/24/2006: My parents, sister, grandmother and I went to see a blown glass exhibit. The trip itself was fun, but my dad gave me shit in front of my grandma (which I didn't like) before we left.

2006/2007 (maybe): This is the last time I went camping. It was just me, my parents and my POS sister, and I think I was 13? Might've been a couple of years earlier. This was in the "writing sentences" phase, so it's possible.

2006/2007 (maybe): Mom yelling at me after a parent-teacher conference (I'm pretty sure we spoke to my seventh- or eight-grade teacher, who was the same person) and saying "I wish your teachers could see what you're really like!"

Later in life:

2007: Probably the worst day happened in that year. I remember it so intensely that I recall an art piece that I saw on Deviantart. I looked it up and found the date that an admin featured it as a Daily Deviation, which is how I saw the piece (not when the artist originally posted it.) March 9, 2007. A song that came out that year--"I Still Remember" by Bloc Party--was also playing in my head at the time. Yep, I remember it that clearly.

2007: Miiight have happened a year earlier? But I think I was about to graduate from elementary school. Memory of my mom yelling at me before a Quiz Bowl tournament.

2007: During an incident while I was in my parents' truck, I started dissociating and thinking about how I wished I were back in one of the high schools that my class toured in elementary school when we were on the verge of graduating. I don't remember the exact incident, but it was obviously bad if I have a vivid memory like that attached to it. I believe it took place in autumn--in my memory, I see autumn trees outside the vehicle.

2007: Telling an online friend what my dad had told me: "You used to be a sweet little girl, and now you're turning into a brat." 99% sure I was a high school freshman at the time. I also mentioned the abuse to her without giving specifics sometime around that period.

2007: Sitting miserably in the theater with my mom and POS sister after watching "Shrek the Third," not realizing that I have major depression. I don't think I even considered that until college, which is crazy.

2007 (maybe): Dad screaming even louder than usual and scaring the shit out of me. I'm pretty sure I had just started high school.

2007/2008 (maybe): Mom telling me I didn't do "it" at all while I was on Prozac during my freshman year, which my doctor gave me to help me deal with my high school anxiety. Should've stayed on that shit, huh?

2008/2009 (maybe): Mom yelling at me in the car and unsympathetically saying "You look like you're about to cry!" right as my POS sister was triggering me. When we went inside the house, Mom turned on the movie "Fred Claus," which came out in 2007. However, this incident happened after the film was released--maybe or year or two later? I can't verify that, but that's what it feels like.

Post-high school:

2010: Last photo of me that my parents have in their house.

2011: Memory of my dad yelling at me on (probably) the same day that I posted a picture of a cupcake that my parents bought me on Facebook. November 6, 2011.

2012: Wow, this was super late. Feels like it happened earlier. My dad yelled at me during Madonna's Super Bowl performance. I would've been 18 or 19. February 5, 2012.

2012: Maaaybe the year my sister graduated from elementary school, but it could've been a year or so earlier. I remember her saying "Ew, no" when my mom suggested adding pictures of me to her memory board (God, I hate that worthless piece of shit.) Or that COULD have been when she was about to graduate high school? Not totally sure about that one.

Some I don't have dates for:

I showed signs of depression maaaybe in adolescence? I don't think I was in high school yet. For a few days after school, I told my mom I wanted to be alone in my room for a while because I felt like crying (didn't tell her that part.) My sister was pretty young but going to school and out of her toddler phase.

My parents yelling at me in a Ferris wheel. Cool! Could've been anywhere from childhood to early adolescence.

Parents giving me shit at Christmas but trying not to get angry since it was the holidays. I'm pretty sure I was on the younger end of the scale. Might have been anywhere from 8 to 11.

Parents yelling at me while watching an episode of Celebrity Deathmatch. That series aired from 1998 to 2002, but I vaguely recall my parents watching it as a rerun, maybe as a "Hey, we used to watch this show, let's watch it again!" moment. That could've been in any year. I was young, though.

Dad staring at me as a punishment while we were in a fast-casual restaurant. 99% sure I was in adolescence. I went into the bathroom and winked and smiled in the mirror, trying to keep it together. Trying not to show emotion in front of them.

Overhearing my dad telling my mom that he was about to strangle me. I was younger (don't remember how young), but I actually did the same thing. Smiled and winked to myself like everything was fine. Like it was a joke. That was the only way I could cope.

Parents yelling at me at The Cheesecake Factory in the mall. Who the hell knows when that happened.

My parents giving me a bunch of shit during mini-golf. I think that was two separate incidents.

This was definitely during adolescence, but I can't remember how old I was. My parents, sister and I were leaving a grocery store (might've been Walmart) and overhead a bratty teenager mouthing off to her parents. My dad said "Even [name]'s not THAT bad!" I felt like crying, but I didn't. I thought to myself "Wow, you sure know how to make a girl feel good." (OK, I'll admit that was cheesy. I probably picked that up from a book.)

Me crying alone in my room--I think I was anywhere from 8 to 11--and thinking to myself "I'll probably have problems with depression when I'm older." Boy, was I right!

My dad coldly mocking me in front of my sister, and me telling a friend about it the next day. Probably somewhere from 8 to 11.

Dad saying "Now I'm sounding like [name]" as an insult. Likely around the same age.

Mom threatening to "throw me out there with the skunk," although she actually regretted that one and told my sister "Don't laugh at that!", implying embarrassment.

Mom saying "You're not a puppy dog," then telling my sister "Maybe she is." Then my sister started talking to me like I were a dog. Thanks for that, Mom!

Mom calling me "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde." That might've been somewhere from 2006 to 2007. Maybe a little younger? I feel like I was in adolescence, though.

Dad spanking me when I was way too old for that to humiliate me--so, early adolescence.

Mom screaming in my ear and yelling that I'm making her crazy. Goddamn. I'm going to say that was probably anywhere from 8 to 10 years old.

My POS sister mocking and humiliating me in my adulthood. Happened multiple times, don't have exact years or dates.

A day off from school when my mom told me "You can do whatever you want." As soon as she said that, I knew that I would not, in fact, do whatever I wanted. Sure enough, my dad ended up grounding me.

Sitting in a restaurant and trying not to cry while my parents half-assedly tried to get my POS sister to stop triggering me (they didn't try that hard, and she didn't stop) in a rare moment of sympathy.

Dad telling me "Either stop, or get the hell away from me." I did get the hell away from him, but not by choice--he sent me to my room.

Dad telling me "Go to your room" when "it" happened as we played checkers. I didn't even really want to play checkers.

Mom yelling "Oh, [name], I could hit you!"

Dad giving me shit and nudging my arm with his finger (it was pretty clear that he wanted to get way more physical than that.)

My dad saying "Now I'm starting to sound like [name]" when he was frustrated. Comparing someone to me is always an insult!

"If you want quiet, go to your room and shut the door. It'll be plenty quiet." Another gem from my dad.

Dad stopping to stare at me, then shaking his head coldly.

I swear to God, it's like he actively thought of new ways to give me shit: stopping and saying "Do I even have to say it?" Lmao what even was that? It was like a nasty joke.

Dad saying "Restrain yourself" after some other shit that I can't remember right now. But I remember the "vibe."

"I'm getting really tired of your shit!" from my dad in a parking lot.

"I'm going to fucking win" at the end of one of my dad's tirades. Him dropping the F-bomb like that really freaked me out.

There are plenty of others, most that I'm sure I forgot a long time ago. But I recall a lot of them.

[atypical-artisan]

OOOH YAY I LOVE THIS SHIT

Answers below the cut 💖

•First Living Dead Doll?

13th anniversary Posey, followed by 13th anniversary Sin! I got them when I was 10 so they're pretty roughed up now lmao.

•How did you first learn of LDDS?

It's honestly like a scene from a movie or book. I was in a comic book/old toys store with my dad and brother off the side of the road. I don't remember exactly how old I was but series 21 came out around that time so I'm guessing it was around 2011 or 2012. Hanging under the counter were some LDD minis! I fixated on squeak and BEGGED my dad to have her. He said no and I put her back but when we got back to the car i googled her on my dad's Ipad. The best I can describe the feeling I had when first seeing the full squeak doll is literally falling in love. They became one of my longest held special interests throughout my late childhood and teens and I still love them so much. I'm so delighted to have discovered them.

•Favorite LDD you own?

Ahhh don't make me choose!!! It's a hard split but I'm gonna have to pick Either Squeak or Butcher Boop from the main like. Toy soldier from the exclusives. Either Posey or Eggzorcist form the 20th anniversary set. And Res jack the ripper or Res Lizzie from my resurrection dolls. I seriously can't choose! I love so many of them!!

•Your dream LDD?

Resurrection Frozen Charlotte or Fairy Fae. They're both wonderful in their own ways but those two call to me specifically.

•Which LDD did you pay the most for?

Ah fuck I don't remember... I think it was my resurrection Jack the Ripper Doll which was a bit over 155 usd.

•Which LDD did you pay the least for?

Cause I was a kid when they were being sold and got them in store- probably my 13th Posey and Sin.

•Is there a doll you ended up liking a lot more than you initially thought you would?

My interest in certain dolls has waned and waxed over the years, but my attachment to Butcher Boop was a little more surprising tbh. She's just so cute!!

•Is there a LDD you regret getting?

Nope! I like a VAST majority of the dolls so I'm happy to get them- I am however disappointed at the state of my Morgana. She's lost bits of her clothes and it makes me sad :(

•Do you own a rare LDD or one that has shot up in price?

Butcher Boop- though a LOT of the dolls have shot up as of late.

•Do you pair up any dolls in your mind? (Shipping or otherwise)

Omg so many! But out of my personal collection I do put my ships together. Currently I have: Hook x Thump Gluttony x Greed Ava x Roxie Judas x Jacob Res! Jack the Ripper x Res! Lizzie Borden Carotte x Maitre And Squeak x Pumpkin if I'm counting my minis Though I have far, far more ships :P

•Do you display them in box or out of box?

Out of the box- I prefer to show off accessories!

•If you buy them second hand do they have to come with the box, death certificate, and accessories? Or are you fine with just the doll?

Accessories are a must- I could maybe do without the death certificate and chipboard but I prefer to have them too. Box isn't needed.

•Own any in bad condition? Have any that came second hand that you had to fix up?

Right now I have 2 dolls and 1 blind box figure that are super fucked up. As I mentioned before My 13th anniversary Sin and Posey were obtained when I was little so they're in rough shape. My blind box bloody Eggzorcist is super fucked up because her flocking got stripped and she got stains. I plan to paint over areas of damage on her and paint on new blood spots eventually. I might even re-flock over her damage. My Morgana has a broken dress (One of her flowers fell off to god knows where.) and missing hairties. Thump Is missing a button, Hook's hook broke after the took a tumble form the shelf, though I have since fixed it and painted over the break. My Evangeline also lost her hairtie but I've kept her bow glued to a regular hairtie. Other dolls are stained or otherwise discolored but I can't fix that so I'm living with it.

•How many LDDs do you own?

I have 47 regular dolls, 2 minis, 14 blind box figures, the resurrection 10 card sets and pin set, the sweet tooth pin, the series 34 pin, and an eggzorcist plushie! I plan on more.

•Opinion on the ‘Presents’ dolls?

I like them! I just wish they weren't the only dolls besides the huge expensive ones being put out right now.

•Do you have any characters you’d like to see as a LDD one day?

Since I'm currently obsessed with 'House of Wax' (2005) then definitely the Sinclairs. I also hope to see a Candyman doll or inspired one! Dementia would be cool to see as a full doll too!

•Opinion on the new LDDS that can bend their arms and legs?

Cool! But very expensive and don't seem my style for collecting. I am excited for Posey though ngl.

•Which doll(s) would you like to see get a resurrection?

I'd KILL for a resurrection Vincent Vaude, Macumba, or Hook. Seriously WHERE is res Macumba??? The rest of series 4 is already done! I'm also surprised Eggy doesn't technically have a res doll yet.

•Least favorite LDD you’ve seen?

Milu... girl they fucked you up SO BAD. Especially her color variant it's so fucking ugly.

•Have you seen LDDs for sale irl?

Yes! Mostly when I was younger but my friends have taken pics of dolls they see on sale near them!

•Is there a doll that is generally unpopular that you love? Is there a popular doll you don’t get the hype for?

Frozen Charlotte is cute but overrated. A lot of other dolls are cute in the same way she is and they all deserve love.

•Are you good at remembering their names without looking at the chipboards/etc?

Yeah I remember pretty well! At least all the dolls I own.

•Do you make up lore for them? Or do you not think of that kinda stuff/are fine with their poems being their only ‘lore’?

I have such horribly convoluted lore for them you have no idea lmao.

•Do you take pictures of them?

Yes! Nothing professional but pictures when they're clean and I find something cute to pose them with!

•What do the people around you irl think of them?

People tend to think they're gross/dislike them. I don't really care they're my children.

•Have you ever taken one or more with you in public?

Oh yes- mostly Butcher Boop cause I have a cosplay of her but my 20th anniversary Eggy for an art project once!

•How long have you been in the fandom?

Since 2010-2012. I was too young to remember exact dates.

•What other dolls do you collect along with them?

Porcelain dolls! I also used to collect mh and Eah dolls but don't anymore. LDDs Are the only ones I actively collect.

•When did you last buy a LDD?

Christmas 2023! Though I plan to get some this Christmas or my birthday.

•Do you notice any common themes in the LDDS you collect? (For example maybe you collect mostly the boy dolls or ones that are more on the goth side)

Though I do gear a bit towards boy dolls, I also gear towards the cheaper dolls lmao.

•Is there anything you’d change about LDDS if you could? Is there anything you wish the people behind LDDS would do differently?

Lots of things, but these are problems I have with horror as a genre so it's no surprise. Mainly I feel racism and ableism in the dolls (Lack of dark dolls and black dolls, slurs both ableist and racist as doll names, and generally feeding into tropes about mental illness) are huge issues within the designs that need to be addressed more fairly in future series.

•Do you urself dress alternatively? (Asking this because LDDs tend to attract the goth crowd 🦇)

Nah, but I would like some more alt-y clothes in general cause they look cool as hell.

I’m bored so here’s a list of questions for Living Dead Dolls collectors bc there’s not too much LDD content on here 🥲 (you don’t have to answer all of these!! Just answer whatever you want!)

————————————————————————

•First Living Dead Doll?

•How did you first learn of LDDS?

•Favorite LDD you own?

•Your dream LDD?

•Which LDD did you pay the most for?

•Which LDD did you pay the least for?

•Is there a doll you ended up liking a lot more than you initially thought you would?

•Is there a LDD you regret getting?

•Do you own a rare LDD or one that has shot up in price?

•Do you pair up any dolls in your mind? (Shipping or otherwise)

•Do you display them in box or out of box?

•If you buy them second hand do they have to come with the box, death certificate, and accessories? Or are you fine with just the doll?

•Own any in bad condition? Have any that came second hand that you had to fix up?

•How many LDDs do you own?

•Opinion on the ‘Presents’ dolls?

•Do you have any characters you’d like to see as a LDD one day?

•Opinion on the new LDDS that can bend their arms and legs?

•Which doll(s) would you like to see get a resurrection?

•Least favorite LDD you’ve seen?

•Have you seen LDDs for sale irl?

•Is there a doll that is generally unpopular that you love? Is there a popular doll you don’t get the hype for?

•Are you good at remembering their names without looking at the chipboards/etc?

•Do you make up lore for them? Or do you not think of that kinda stuff/are fine with their poems being their only ‘lore’?

•Do you take pictures of them?

•What do the people around you irl think of them?

•Have you ever taken one or more with you in public?

•How long have you been in the fandom?

•What other dolls do you collect along with them?

•When did you last buy a LDD?

•Do you notice any common themes in the LDDS you collect? (For example maybe you collect mostly the boy dolls or ones that are more on the goth side)

•Is there anything you’d change about LDDS if you could? Is there anything you wish the people behind LDDS would do differently?

•Do you urself dress alternatively? (Asking this because LDDs tend to attract the goth crowd 🦇)