#there is apparently like no snow as well which SUCKS i want my ski day :(

[thewheatgerm]

as a yearly tradition, i turn into sam from wendover for christmas eve

[seasonsofeverlark]

Single but Peared

Author: @hutchhitched​

Prompt: Katniss and Peeta are roommates and are both single for the first time on Valentine’s Day. Will they finally admit their feelings for each other? [submitted by @booksandchocolatesmears​]

Rating: T

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day, lovelies! I hope you have a wonderful day no matter your relationship status. Lots of love. _____________

It’s gloomy and icky and the least favorite part of the year for Katniss Everdeen, although she’s trying very hard to pretend she’s not pissed off at the world. Sitting at the kitchen table and staring out the sliding glass doors as she sips her hot chocolate, she wonders how it is she’s gotten here—figuratively speaking, of course.

There’s nothing particularly wrong with her life, just the normal crappy things everyone goes through at some point. Losing her father at an early age sucked, and the ensuing poverty after his death wasn’t fun. Otherwise, though, she has a good life now that she’s an adult. A good job, a few really close friends, and a roommate who mostly gives her space, except in the morning when all she really wants is to be alone. He also eats pears, which is…gross. She shudders just thinking about the mealy, tasteless fruit he seems to think is amazing.

She can hear him stumping down the hall, his uneven gait grating on her nerves, which she’ll readily admit is shitty of her. Peeta can’t help the fact that he’s got a cast or that he’s been driving her nuts with his thump, thump, thumping around their apartment for the past few weeks. Well, he could help it—if he hadn’t gone on that disastrous ski weekend with his “definitely an ex now” girlfriend. Trying to teach that idiot how to strap long sticks onto her feet and glide down a mountain resulted in him wrapped around a tree and his ex making out with a ski instructor while Peeta was in the emergency room. He should have taken Katniss, his long-suffering, very nice, wouldn’t make out with a stranger roommate. Live and learn.

“Morning,” Peeta mumbles as he enters the kitchen and heads directly to the cupboard where he keeps an impressive, if somewhat ostentatious, tea collection. She prefers the sweetness of cocoa, but he drinks tea non-stop throughout the day. As he waits for the water to heat and the tea to steep, he washes a pear and peels it with a paring knife.

“Morning,” she grumbles, irrationally irritated by his adorable bedhead and rumpled cream-colored Henley over red and black plaid, flannel sleep pants and bare feet. How he hasn’t lost a toe or two in the dead of winter, she’s not sure, but the floors are cold in their place. Put on some damn socks.

“Looks like it snowed last night,” he remarks in that growly morning voice of his she finds endearing.

“Yeah. A few inches.”

“Hope that doesn’t ruin your Valentine’s Day plans.”

His words are a dagger to her heart, but she only has herself to blame. It’s not his fault she hasn’t bothered to tell him that she’s single again. Just because she doesn’t want to talk about her failed relationship doesn’t mean she’s lying to him exactly. Except she has been. Every single time he’s asked about Darius, she’s made up some excuse about why he hasn’t been around lately. Honestly, she’s not even sure why she’s doing it. Maybe something about wanting to save face around him. He’s always got someone on his arm, and she struggles to find anyone who’ll put up with her surly nature for more than a few dates. Darius held on for three months before letting her know she wasn’t to his liking anymore.

“No. It won’t ruin my plans.”

Apparently unaware of her reticence to chat, Peeta plops down across from her and asks, “So, what are you doing tonight? Dinner? Movie? Something a little more romantic and thoughtful? I bet he brings you chocolate covered strawberries and roses. Nothing wrong with the cliché, but I know you hate the predictable.”

“Tonight won’t be predictable.”

“And how do you know that?” he asks, his eyes kind as an amused smile tugs up the corners of his pretty pink mouth.

Sighing heavily, Katniss looks over his shoulder so she won’t have to see the compassion in his eyes. “We broke up. Single again.”

“Oh… Oh, Katniss. I’m—I’m so sorry.”

“Shut up, and eat your pears,” she snaps, fuming in humiliation. She doesn’t want his pity.

The room stays silent except for the crunching of pears between his perfectly straight white teeth. Neither of them budge, both sitting at the table and not speaking for several long minutes until she finally gives in and glances at him. When she does, she finds him looking at her, but his expression isn’t what she expects. Instead of any sort of sympathy, he’s studying her, his eyes running over her face and up and down her torso. It’s a little bit like she’s a bug under a microscope.

Hunching her shoulders, she glares at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he laughs. “Absolutely nothing. Just… Katniss, would you be my Valentine today? I’m not very good at being single, and we’re kind of here together anyway. Want to have a snowball fight and then make soup together and watch bad rom-coms and cuddle on the couch? Because… Well, I don’t know if you know this or not, but I’ve had a crush on you for like…I don’t know…for forever.”

The needle scratch in her head almost hurts. Completely thrown for a loop, she’s reeling as she gapes at him. Still smiling but with a flush covering his entire face and neck, Peeta waits patiently for her to process what he’s just said. The only movement he makes is to lift his mug of tea to his lips and take a drink. When he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs, and she fights a sudden, unexpected flash of lust. Peeta Mellark is a very handsome man.

“Are you— Are you serious?”

Nodding, he shrugs. “Does that freak you out? Because that’s not what I meant to do. I’m just terrible at this kind of thing. Admitting my feelings. Trying not to smother women with my affection. I’ve been crushing on you since long before we moved in together, but I didn’t think you were interested. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but…you know, Valentine’s Day. We’re both single for the first time since we’ve been living together. You seem like you could use a pick-me-up. I’m an idiot who doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.”

“Seems like the perfect combination?”

“Well, yeah,” he says bashfully as he ducks his head.

“So, what you’re saying is that you’d like to ‘pear’ up?” she asks as her lips twitch in amusement.

Eyes twinkling, he responds, “You’ve got it down to the ‘tea.’”

Warmth spreads in her chest as she looks at him, and his mouth slides into a genuine smile that makes her heart flutter. Maybe this is the stupidest thing in the world—agreeing to date a roommate she hasn’t even realized is an option until just now—but she doesn’t much care. It’s gloomy and gross and Valentine’s Day. What is there to lose?

Raising her hot chocolate to her lips, she nods. Suddenly, being single doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

[manonblaqkbeak]

The Reunion

Day 5--I had completely forgotten that I had written this lol. It’s more fluff as usual. Can’t wait to read everyone else’s later on!

Enjoy! :)

1.8k words

Rowan couldn't wait to get home. Today had been...exhausting, to say the least. He was a personal trainer, and with that came the territory that people would talk about their issues while working out. Which was fine, Rowan understood that letting out emotional issues when working out helped people to stay motivated. He himself had been known to rant about his issues when working out himself.

But today had been a lot. One of his regulars had put on weight over the Yulemas holidays and was beating himself up over it. Another regulars marriage was over and was dealing with that guilt.  Someone had lost a favourite aunt. Another one had to break off an engagement because it was a loveless relationship. And on and on the issues piled up.

Rowan was good at compartmentalizing, but after a while, he ignored his lunch break in order to go to the park to just...not think for a while.

Being at the park cheered him up a little, but his break was soon too over. And he was back to work, and that was when the skies decided to open up and pour down buckets of rain. Making a bad day into a shittier one.

His wipers were on the fastest setting and he was driving at a snails pace when he looked away for one second, one fucking second, when he heard a thump and a feminine voice yell out “what the fuck!”

Slamming on the brakes, Rowan came to a speedy conclusion.

He was at a pedestrian crossing and he just hit someone with his car.

He just hit someone with his car.

“Fucking hell!”

Pulling up the handbrake, Rowan got out, not sure what to say or do when he came across a golden haired woman, her eyes spitting out blue and gold fire.

Rowan blinked at her, because despite being covered in rain and sitting on her behind, hand rubbing at her hip, she looked familiar.

But now wasn't the time to thinking about that. He had to see if she was okay. “I'm so sorry,” he got out, “I have no idea what happened. I looked away for a second, that was all. I'm so fucking sorry. Are you okay?”

“My hip and my ass hurt, and I suspect that I'm going to have a wicked bruise, but I think I'm okay,” the stranger said. “You should really watch what you're doing, though.”

“I know. I'm sorry, again.”

The stranger sighed, and even that sounded familiar. “What a fucking day I'm having,” she mumbled.

“Bad day?” He probably made it worse, too. He should also really get her into his car, but she starting ranting before he could do anything about it.

“The fucking worst. I'm facing a deadline that I can't finish, because I'm having dreadful writers block. My landlord is a fucking creep who came to my place today saying that my underwear 'accidentally' got mixed in with his laundry. My cousin's dad recently came back into his life, so now he's angry all the damned time and it's leeching into me. And you just hit me with your car.”

Rowan nodded in understanding, but only could manage to say, “Yeah, your day definitely sucks.”

She glared at him, silently telling him that that wasn't really the best way to respond, but he was having a bad day, also.

Which wasn't an excuse he knew, but Gods, it wasn't really his day either.

Rowan helped her up, her hands warm despite the cold and took her to his passenger seat and pulled over to the side. He couldn't help but notice that she smelled like jasmine and lemon verbena. A calming scent.

“I'm not sure what the protocol is,” he admitted after handing her a hand towel from the glove box. “Do we call the police? Or my insurance? I should take you to the hospital, I know that much.” Even if all she said was that she hurt her behind and hip, it'd be best to ensure that she didn't fracture anything.

When she said nothing after a moment, Rowan turned, noting that the silence from the woman was a little concerning, scared to death that maybe she hit her head and was going into shock.

Her blue-gold eyes were wide. “Are you okay?” he asked again. He really should get her to the hospital.

“Are you...? This is...you couldn't be. Rowan? Rowan Whitethorn?”

Rowan blinked, his concern turning inward. “Yes, that's my name. How did you—?”

“I, uh, it's me. Aelin Ashryver Gala—”

“Galathynius?” He finished for her. She nodded.

They sat in silence as Rowan stared at her, taking in her blue-gold eyes, golden hair, the lemon verbena and jasmine smell of her. Recalling the familiar sigh. All of it.

Rowan wanted to bang his head on the steering wheel when all of it came crashing down on him. He had just hit his high school crush with his car.

Rowan, for whatever reason that he couldn't name, wanted to laugh. He never would have suspected that he would hit Aelin Galathynius with his car ten years after high school graduation.

He was fairly certain that high school him had been in love with her from the moment he saw her. Rowan had wanted to ask her out at least a dozen times, but he was an awkward seventeen year old that didn't know how to talk to women that weren't family members and never gained the courage to do so.

It was one of his biggest regrets from his teenage years.

The last time he had seen her was at the after party of their graduating day. She wore a daisy flower crown and was sparkling in a golden dress. He had never seen someone as beautiful as her—even to this day.

Unbeknownst to Rowan, Aelin had felt the same way. She was confident back then as she was now, but every time she wanted to go up to Rowan to talk to him, to get to know him, the butterflies in her stomach threatened to strangle her.

So she never did ask him out. And here she was now, ten years later, in his car. He was still the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

She was still pissed as hell though that he hit her with his car.

It had only taken a moment, a single moment, for her to realise who it was she was sitting next to. The moment that the hand towel touched her face and she breathed in the pine and snow scent of it, she was transported back to the past.

“How have you been?” Rowan asked her after long minutes. His green eyes still as pretty as the day Aelin saw them. She was sure that was what she loved about him the most all those years ago. Other than Lysandra's, Aelin had never seen such a stunning green.

Aelin snorted, her fond memories disappearing at the inane question. “You were listening when I was ranting, weren't you? My day has been shit.”

Rowan gave her a small smile, and her heart skipped a beat. He still smiled the same. She had liked that about him, too. Still did, apparently.

“No, I mean how's life been since graduation? You mentioned writers block. Are you a writer then?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I write fantasy-adventure-romance novels under the name of Celaena Sardothien.” She had liked the animosity of it all, with none of her books containing a single photograph of her.

“That's amaz—wait. You mean to tell me that you're the writer of the 'Fireheart' series?”

Aelin smiled proudly. “That's me. Have you read them?”

“I have. It's one of my favourite series.” They were his guilty pleasure, really, but it felt rude to say that out loud, as if it was shameful.

Aelin blinked, taken aback at the confession. “Really? You mean to tell me that brooding Rowan Whitethorn reads romance novels?”

Rowan frowned a little bit at that. “I don't brood. Not anymore.”

“You're brooding right now.”

Rowan grumbled. Okay, maybe he was, just a little bit, however.

“How about you, though?” Aelin asked. “How's life been?”

“Busy. And right now, it's a bit shitty. I'm sorry for hitting you with my car, truly. We should get you to a hospital, though. Just to make sure that you're okay, please,” he added, when he saw that she opened her mouth to likely protest. “I won't be able to sleep if it turns out you need a hip replacement or something and I didn't take you to get checked out.”

Aelin truly doubted she would need a hip replacement, but nodded anyway. “Okay, you can take me to the hospital. And then afterwards, I'll give you my number and you can take me out to dinner.”

Rowan blinked at that and then smiled. He had always like confidence in a person. “Okay, it's a date.”

“I've never had a date after a hospital visit.”

“Well, then, I better make it great.”

Aelin smiled, warmth filling her. The day turning out a little nicely, despite it all. “You better.”

x x x x x

As Rowan lead Aelin to the dance floor, he couldn't believe his luck. Never in a thousand years did he think that accidentally hitting Aelin with his car would lead to this.

To their first dance as husband and wife.

It had been exactly one year to the day when he saw her again after ten years. It was very much an Aelin thing to want to have their wedding anniversary to match the date.

The story had been re-told by a slightly tipsy Fenrys as part of his best man speech, about how Rowan would be the only man in the world to meet his future wife by way of a car accident. The story always made people laugh, with people saying that the universe must have wanted to get them together and was sick of them taking too long.

Because as it turned out, when Rowan and Aelin's relationship grew and they learned more about their ten years of life, they were always somehow minutes away from running into each other. From when Rowan was starting his hike in the Southern Continent, Aelin had just finished hers and was going back to her hotel—the very fact that they were staying at the same hotel, but floors apart.

When Rowan had missed out on book tickets to a signing of her third novel in the Fireheart series, and he had to turn around and leave the bookstore since it was a private function just as Aelin was moments away from going on.

From going to the same concerts, to the same festivals, from seemingly everything that they had in common, they had missed each other by minutes.

They silently thanked the universe, even if the way they ran into each other was less than ideal. But they wouldn't change it for the world.

Rowan kissed his wife and thanked his lucky stars.

[sparklingchan]

Prologue|| Stormbringer- Stray Kids Demigod AU

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Felix

Word count : 1.2k+

Warnings : Family issues, mentions of mythological monsters, not edited.

Genre : Romance, Demigod AU, fluff, angst.

Description: Two twelve year olds kids with apparently normal lives find themselves in a rather uncomfortable position when they are told the truth about their not-so-normal parentage.  

A/N : FINALLY I managed to post this!! I haven’t been feeling well lately so hope I didn’t keep anyone waiting too long. This prologue doesn’t necessarily connect with the main plot of the story but it does lay the backdrop for it so this part might come off as plain. 

Hope everyone’s been keeping well, given the current situations. If you need anyone to talk to, I’m right here!

SERIES MASTERLIST ||  Click here for introduction to the story and glossary and here for the Stray Kids demigod diaries!

Lighting in the Sky

"Before the world existed, there was nothing. Only a primary void, a nothingness and ..chaos. "

Your glazed, intrigued eyes follow every word from the new book your mother reads out from, your curiosity unable to handle the wonderful way your mother always turns every story into a mystery.

The bright green cover of the book looks attractive, and smooth like glass. Instinctively, you hold your finger up to its surface.

Its cold.

" 'Famous tales from Greek Mythology ' " you read out its title, now no longer paying attention to your mother's words, "Mum, do you think the people in these stories are real?"

Your mother stops mid sentence, not really surprised when a rather familiar memory finds its way back to her. Thunderstorms, a handsome young man, rapid heartbeats, a little baby girl.

"I'd like to think so," she runs her fingers through your hair, "But not all of them are as heroic as they're made to be in these books."

You wondered what her words had meant for a long time after that. For a 12 year old girl, you'd been way too curious, way too hard to deceive. But truth is something that cannot be hidden for too long.

You remember that day as clearly as if it were yesterday.

It was your 13th birthday , a joyous day for a young girl who'd always wanted to experience the so called 'exciting' teen years. Your mum had prepared an amazing celebration for you- a small picnic by the seaside, a chocolate cake (your absolute favorite), the second edition of 'Famous tales from Greek Mythology ' as a gift. It was almost perfect.

Almost.

While on your way to the parking lot, a dog pounces at you. Except it wasn't just a dog. It was a Hell Hound.

You'd only seen the likes of it before in your story books and in your nightmares that were as vivid as memories. But you know exactly what a hellhound really is. Hellhounds are dogs that guard the Underworld - world of the dead .

"Get off of me, you dog!" You scream as the monster claws at your face.

Viscious creatures and brilliant killers these dogs are and if it weren't for two boys showing up to your rescue, you are sure you'd have become the hellhound 's food that day.

"Are you okay, y/n?" The boys ask you.

"H-how do you know my name? Who are you people?" You pant, on the verge of tears, "What was that thing?"

The taller of the two boys - Hyunjin, as he would introduce himself to you later sends a look of confusion over at the shorter boy - who also introduces himself as Minho later. "We have a lot of talking to do, y/n. Where's your mom?"

Your mom is not one bit fazed when she drives the three of you back to your small apartment. It's almost as if she'd been expecting it all along.

Once you reach your house, your mom who's usually extremely cheerful and loud, sits you down quietly on the couch and tells you the truth. Of who you are, what you are capable of.

"Sweetie, your father is not the book author you think he is. I'm so sorry I lied to you. " she sucks in a deep breath, almost scared, "Honey, your dad is...a God. A Greek God. The ones we read about."

And that one sentence turns your entire world upside down. Everything you've ever known just changes.

But sometimes changes are for the best, you'd like to think.

Minho and Hyunjin reveal that they come from a place called Camp Levanter - a home for kids like you, demigods is what they're apparently called.

"A-are you like me too?"

"Yes, y/n. We're like you." Minho says, "I'm the son of the Greek God Dionysus and Hyunjin over here is the son of the Greek goddess Aphrodite."

Hyunjin pats your head ever so gently and in an alluring voice says, "Do you want to come with? We could be your friend. How does that sound?"

You find yourself nodding almost immediately.

And just before you walk out of the door, you give your mom the tightest hug, assuring her that you'd do just fine.

"By the way, mum, what's dad's name? You never told me."

You mom sighs, as the skies outside rumble with thunder, "Your father is Zeus - the God of sky and lightning. "

*

The symbol of Love

"Are we going to die tonight, Nana?"

Felix shivers into the embrace and pulls his greying, old grandmother closer, her weak body already completely corrupted by the cold and snow.

"N-not you, Lixie. You have things to do." She mumbles, holding the 13 year old kid to her chest, hoping to find some kind of warmth in this freezing cold weather, "I-its not your time yet. You will go back to your father, you hear me? You didn't have to come with me anyway!"

Felix's father wasn't the nicest person - to put it decently. He didn't so as much bat an eye towards him. Perhaps he was ashamed of having a child out of wedlock or worse, he was reminded of Felix's gorgeous mother he so dearly missed everytime he saw Felix.

Anyhow, parental love never made it into Felix's life from his father's side so instead he grew up under the warmth of his grandmother's love.

On his 13th birthday, Felix receives his first and last gift from his father; a step mother. That fall, his father marries an old colleague in a small ceremony. And Felix would later go on to hate himself for ever thinking that this new addition to the family might fill up the blank space his birth mother had left behind.

Not ten days after the wedding, his new step mother 'accuses' his grandmother of being rude and unwelcoming and begs his father to throw her out of the house.

Which all comes down to this moment, where his grandmother is freezing to death and he cannot do anything but watch silently.

"Hey, do you need help?" When Felix hears that voice, his first instinct is to brush it off as a hallucination, for who would help two homeless people in this bone chilling weather?

"Felix, do you need help?" A few rapid footsteps and two boys present themselves in front of him, panting as if they'd been running all the while.

"W-who are you?" He stutters, hugging his grandmother closer, "How do you know my name?"

One of the two boys reply gently, "I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Felix. How about we go to my place? Your grandmother might like a warm cup of tea, don't you think?"

And so he agrees to go with the two boys.

Once they'd warmed his Nana up and fed her, Felix gently tucks her into the bed of the guest room they'd been given. As scared as Felix was to accept their help, he knew he had no option. His grandmother meant the world to him and he couldn't watch her succumb right in front of his eyes.

The two boys are very careful in approaching Felix, making sure to not scare him more than he already is.

"What are your names? How do you know me?" They let a whole hour pass by as the three boys sit on the dining table, occupied with plates of untouched food and full bottles of water, letting Felix be the one to start conversation. And when he finally does, Changbin breathes a sigh of relief. Really, he was starving but he didn't want to seem rude in front of their new friend.

"I'm Chan," Chan introduces himself, and then Changbin speaks, "I'm Changbin. And why do we know you, you ask - well the three of us have quite a lot in common, you see. More than what meets the mortal eye."

Mortal eye? What's this all about? Felix finds himself more confused than he already was.

"We're the children of Greek gods, Felix. " Chan sighs, " You, me and Changbin. Is it hard to believe?"

Felix is about to say 'yes' out of pure impulse but he holds his tongue this time ; these guys don't seem like the kind to make such obnoxious claims, even as a joke. All his life, Felix had spent as an outcast, among his friends, among his cousins, among his classmates. His father had treated him like he were a monster. And his estranged mother who his father never said anything about? Felix finds suspicion knocking at his door.

Whilst its still extremely hard to believe, Felix responds,

"I want to believe you."

Chan and Changbin exchange a look of surprise, complete astonishment since none of them had expected Felix to even listen to them. And now that they have his attention, they find themselves a tad bit pressured as well.

"But don't disappoint me," Felix mutters, more to himself than to the boys, "Don't give me hope just to snatch it away."

And much to his surprise, he isn't left disappointed this time. These two boys manage to change his life completely, and now when Felix goes to bed at night, he finds a rather foreign feeling of fulfillment in his heart.

and for the first time in forever, he lets himself hope. Hope for a new family who would make up for the love his father could never offer. Hope for better days to come now that he's finally found a new identity and a new life.

****

Taglist: @chogiwow​@ctrlaltfangirl​@blueprint-han​@whattaweeb​@bigskzz​@judewalid​@kpopssuregi​@crispy-chan​

Note: Please DM or send an ask if you wish to be added to the taglist!

[tinyboxxtink]

"Black Magic" *Part 6*

Part 5

Part 7

Okay so this one's a bit shorter, but like I said I want to try and keep it a "day" a chapter. Also, I don't think you want this day to be ANY longer.

....I'm so sorry.

Also also---- I'm going out now. I'M SO SORRY.

I'll post another chapter tonight....be strong my babies!

Side note how perfect is the gif with the angry barba and the smirking Olivia....I mean.... what?

Tag List:

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@omgsuperstarg

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@gibbs274

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@objection-argumentative

@aprildecker-blog

@lolliepopsicle

@madamsnape921

@stars-trash-18

-------

You arrived at the door of Rafael's office early once again, knocking this time. You looked like a million bucks. You had taken at least an hour to get ready, your outfit, your hair, your makeup. You were ready to make a move. You knocked again. There was no answer. He should be there, maybe he didn’t hear you. You knocked a little louder. Where could he be? You decided to take a peek and peer open his door to see the most horrifying sight:

Rafael and Olivia, making out on his desk. They both snapped back when they heard the door open.

“Y/N!!” He yelled angrily. “Don't you knock?”

“Oh.. oh my God I'm so sorry sir I'm really sorry. I just brought your morning coffee sir,” You were upset, embarrassed , confused , distraught unable to speak, unable to think.

“Well you should learn not to peep on other people Y/N,” Olivia gave you an evil smirk. “I should get going anyway baby,” she rubbed the lipstick off Rafael's lips. “I have a long day.”

“Oh but I'll miss you carino,” Rafael whined while rubbing his nose against hers in a disgusting fashion.

“I know baby, but maybe we'll have lunch?” She messed with his collar.

“You can count on it,” Rafael growled seductively, smacking her butt as she walked towards the door. “Two can play at your game,” she whispered at you as she walked out

Oh my god. Oh my God oh my god!! How did she know? How was it possible? So many things went through your head at that moment.

“I um, I left something at my desk,” You lied quickly as you headed out the door.

“Olivia!” You called after her angrily suddenly overwhelmed with courage. She stopped and turned and stared at you

“Really? Got some balls on you now do you?”

“What did you do?” You demanded.

“I didn't do anything to him.” She acted innocent. “He just realized that his feelings for me were there all along,” she batted her eyes mockingly. “Isn't that what you did?”

“It's not real!” You barked. “You know it's not real. It'll wear off by tomorrow,”

“Oh I really don't think it will” She held up a water bottle in her purse and it was filled with a….purple liquid? Yep it was purple. Why was it purple? Did she make it stronger? Oh God how strong did she make it?

“Olivia you can't do this to him. I stopped and realized if it wasn't real, I didn't want it.”

“Oh that's bullshit.” She rolled her eyes. “You just brought him his morning coffee. You and I both know that it has that stuff in it. You just needed to refill him but I got there first.”

“No that's not true! You yelled, tears stinging your eyes now. “And he loves me. I know he does.”

“Oh my God you are delusional,” she laughed.” Look I'm happy you had a fun day yesterday but you’re out of your league here, sweetie. He's mine and he always will be? Got it?” She smirked again, then turned and stomped away in her heels leaving you there speechless.

----

You were furious, you were confused, you were upset and then you realized that you had to still continue this day as if nothing was different. Nothing was wrong. You wondered how strong Olivia's stuff was. You wondered what the rules were. Did it block out his feelings for you completely and only focus on her? Did it wipe any memory of you and him at all? Could you break it? You had so many questions you needed to call Chloe but you know you couldn't until your break so you sucked it up and walked back into Rafael's office.

“I'm really sorry about that so earlier,” You did your best to keep from crying. He looked at you with an almost look of disdain.

“Yeah well you really need to be more professional, Y/N.” He scoffed.

"Now you really need to get me copies of these prepositions by noon so that I can go to lunch with my beloved and then go to court.”

“Your beloved?” You spat unintentionally, wanting to gag.

“Excuse you?” He gave you an angry look.

"Look I know that you have some kind of crazy crush on me, but you need to learn that what me and my girlfriend have is something you can't get between so you really need to either control yourself or I will relieve you of your services.” He glared at you.

You couldn't breathe, you felt your heart beating in your chest and your ears. Your palms were sweating, you were having a panic attack. What the hell did she put in her concoction? How did she make him turn so harshly against you?

“I... Yes sir, sorry sir, right away sir,” You whispered grabbing the papers from him running out of the office.

Finally after you got Rafael his copies and he stormed out of his office to go meet his “beloved”, you took the break to call Chloe in tears.

-----

“Oh My God, what happened honey?” She asked, immediately hearing your sobs over the phone.

“She did it,” You sobbed.

“Who did what now?”

“She found the spell! Or some spell. I don't know what she did. I don't know how she could have-- I don't know what she did!!!” You kept sobbing uncontrollably not being able to form coherent thoughts.

“Okay, I'm going to need you to slow down,” Chloe said in a calming manner. “Breathe honey. Use your words. Now explain to me exactly what happened,”

You took several deep breaths trying to compose yourself so that you could explain what was happening to her.

“I went into Rafael's office this morning, and he was making out with that vile woman,” You sniffled.

“What vile woman?”

“Olivia, his ‘beloved’,” you rolled your eyes through your tears.

“His beloved?”

“It's some woman that he works with, and apparently has been in love with him forever. She somehow, I don't know how, figured out what we did to him and she somehow found her own spell. Which I'm pretty sure is not the same one, because it was a purple liquid. AND she not only created feelings for her, she made him hate me!!” You continued to sob.

“...Oh,” Was all Chloe could say.

“OH…?!” You scoffed. “I thought you said that magic laws frowned upon spells like that, controlling people's free will!”

“It does! Good magic anyway,” She sighed.

“What the hell does that mean?” You yelled angrily.

“Well I mean you know there's good witches and bad witches,”

“Oh my God, what in the Wizard Of Oz fuckery--”

“I don't know what to tell you honey. That's how it is. There's good magic and there's black magic. Black magic is all selfish and self-indulgent and instant gratification. She must have gone to somebody who deals in that,”

“Who could it be?”

“I don't know! It's not like they're listed in the yellow pages! WAIT-- Oh my God I think I might have an idea,” Chloe suddenly paused. “...But you're not going to believe me,”

“Oh my God what does that mean?” you asked wearily.

“Well.. you've seen all the movies right? You know like Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White,”

“Oh God. Are you seriously going to tell me that true love's kiss can break the spell?”

“Well.. you really don't have any other options right now, do you?”

“CHLOE those are Disney movies for fuck’s sake!!”

“Hey, remember Once Upon A Time? THAT was the ‘real world’, and true love’s kiss brought magic to our world!” Chloe pointed out.

“THAT’S A TV SHOW!!!!!”

“I don't know what else you want me to say here babe. But you should do it. Unless you want to lose him forever to this “Olivia” person. You said that she had a lot of it, right? She could keep this up for as long as she wants. AND the more she gives him the stronger it's going to be and the harder it is going to be to break. I mean he might end up really hating you and firing you, and then your whole life will be ruined. You not only need to break this spell for you to be happy, but before it impacts your entire life,” Chloe warned.

“Oh my God, oh my god…” You whimpered. “I should have never done this.”

“Hey chin up this will work out I'm sure of it!” She said in a chipper tone.

“Okay Jiminy,” You rolled your eyes as you hung up and went back to your office. You did your best to continue with the rest of the day, trying to stay out of Rafael’s way. Which wasn't hard, considering that he was in court most of the day. Around four he texted you and told you that he was no longer in need of your services for the day so you could go home early. Oh also he just HAD to add that he was going to go out with Liv. You wanted to vomit. You headed home and went to brainstorm with Chloe.

-----

“Okay so I've been researching black magic. Chloe had papers sprawled out all over her bed when you came home. “She must have used a combination of love and hate spells.”

“Wait, so you mean actual love spells? Like actually creating fictitious love? Not just magnifying what he felt for her?”

“Correct” she nodded. “I don't think he ever had real feelings for her.”

“Well he said that she and him had a thing, and that he thought about her like that when they first met. So maybe it was going off of that,” You shrugged sadly.

“Another thing we need to figure out is how to get the rest of the potion from her somehow,”

“And just HOW do you expect me to do that?!”

“I don’t...I don’t know,” She shrugged, sifting through her research.

“Chloe, give me something you DO know,” You rubbed your temples; this was giving you a migraine.

“Okay… well, maybe if I talk to my other friends they can figure out a way to counteract the effects even just a little, if you're not willing to or unable to get true love's kiss,”

“Oh God--”

“Hey, I'm just saying”

“Whatever.” You sighed. “My head hurts, my heart hurts, everywhere hurts Chloe,” You whined. “I just want this to be over,”

“Okay honey just-- just go get some sleep, I’ll figure out a game plan for you to use tomorrow,”

“Okay...thank you,” You gave her a small hug and went to your room.

You went to bed with a deep feeling of dread.

[evakuality]

Based on a prompt by @j-purplesunsets-rainydays:  I just thought of another prompt for you 😅 davenzi, enemies to lovers: their entire group is going to a cabin for a few days, though Matteo and David for X reason don't get along. They get there early, before everyone else, for whatever reason, but a bad snow storm hits and the others can't get to the cabin, so David and Matteo are stuck together there! It's cliche but I think you could really make it amazing

This isn’t quite what I had intended from that prompt, but here we are.  Chapter one of a planned eight!  Many many thanks to @kapplebougher who did an amazing and speedy beta job for me, and to my cheerleaders - you know who you are!

Snowbound, chapter one

It’s quiet as David presses his forehead to the cool panes of the glass and stares outside.  That’s something for which he’s genuinely grateful because it means he can try to get his racing thoughts into some semblance of order before he has to play nice for several days.  He’s had major reservations about this trip ever since Abdi first suggested it when he was five beers into a great night and everything had seemed equally hilarious, exciting and easily achieved. To Abdi anyway.  None of those things is even remotely true, definitely weren’t true at the time, and yet they had made it work in the end.  Sort of.  

David’s on a train in charge of an entire large bag filled with food and alcohol while most of the others are going to follow later in a car.  Which they could technically have brought the food in, but into which they apparently weren’t able to fit it considering the mountains of other important stuff they were trailing.  Like skis, a snowboard or two and lots of warm clothes.  Make ‘having no room for the food’ point one on the list of reasons why this trip was a badly organised, blatantly stupid idea. 

David sighs as he drags his eyes back inside the carriage and looks around him.  Looks at Matteo, who’s dozing in the corner of the seat opposite David.  That’s the biggest problem, and that’s why David had reservations about this from the start.  Not that anyone listened to him. That’s point two on the long list of why this was not a good idea.  Though in terms of how large it loomed in the list of ‘reasons why David should not do this’ it’s right up there, and probably should have its own points track and not just ending up lumped in with all the other much less important reasons.  

The thing about Matteo is that he shines and stings in David’s life in equal measure.

The thing with them has always baffled everyone around them.  Fuck, half the time it baffles David.  There was a small moment in time when he’d thought they were connecting.  Back when he was newly arrived from the raw, rough experience at his old school and Matteo had smiled at him a few times, David had thought he might even have made a friend.  Someone he could share thoughts with, relaxing into the new sensation of smoking weed and rambling about everything and nothing for hours.  

But he was swiftly disillusioned of that idea when Matteo had retreated into himself as early as the next day, his smiles coming less often over the next week, clipped and cut off and eventually fading to nothingness alongside short, rough dismissals of any attempt to connect again.  That it was something to do with David was obvious when Matteo was with his friends.  With them, he’d spark into life, laughing, pushing, teasing.  He had the energy he’d had on that one glittering evening they’d spent together.  So watching Matteo with those others, fresh from the wounds inflicted at his old school, David had run and hidden.  From that moment he was careful to stay as far from Matteo as he could get, unwilling to suffer anymore at the hands of people who flash hot and cold and always have some sort of verbal weapon hidden under the cover of their friendliness when it appears.

Huffing again, David turns back to look out the window.  Thinking about Matteo just serves to raise his blood pressure, sending both an aching thought about what might have been if Matteo hadn’t been such an ass and a stabbing anger at how blasé he seems to be about the whole thing now that they’re thrown together so often through chance.  Well, chance and a group of people who don’t let anyone stay distant once they’ve decided they want to be friends.  Blocking out the sight of Matteo sitting there in front of David is the best way to keep his carefully cultivated calm.  Once they’re all at the cabin with the boys it should be fine.  It’s never quite as hard to be polite when it’s not just the two of them.  So it’s something of a blessing that Matteo is asleep and David isn’t forced to make awkward small talk with him.

Instead he can focus on the beauty of the world outside his window.  Darkness is drawing in around the train and with it come some small flurries of snow.  They dance, fidgeting spinners through the air as the train rattles onwards through the landscape, beautiful and fragile.  Watching them, David lets himself drift, following their forms with his eyes and his heart and leaving his own troubles slumbering on the seat opposite.  There’ll be time enough to worry about all that once they get to their destination.

“How are we supposed to get to the cabin?” Matteo asks, his voice clipped, weariness seeping in even though he’s been asleep for the last hour at least.

David kicks at the heavy bag by his feet, finding it impossible to move and wondering glumly how they’re going to move it at all, let alone get it to the cabin.  

“David?” Matteo says, irritation slipping into his voice, and David’s gaze snaps up to Matteo’s.  The exhaustion is actually easy to read even in the shadowy light in front of the station, or maybe it’s so easy to see because of the way it throws all the planes and angles of Matteo’s face into relief and plays up all the hidden shadows reflected on it.  Dark smudges are visible under his eyes and his body is slumped against the stone wall in a way that looks more like genuine need for support than affectation.  David shrugs.

“Dunno,” he murmurs.  “Uber?”

Matteo’s lips purse as if the idea is distasteful, but he too looks down at the bag stuffed full of food and seems to recognise the inevitability.  He sighs and pulls out his phone.  Within moments he nods and looks over at David again.

“It’s on its way,” he says.  “We should get this stuff out the front I suppose.”

David nods, relieved to have something to do other than stand around making this awkward chat with Matteo in the dim lighting that calls back to the hallway in which they’d first talked.  The hallway and conversation in which David had first thought he might manage to belong in the new school that was so terrifying after everything he’d been through.

Between them, they manage to perch their personal bags over their shoulders and drag the food bag through the brightly lit entrance hall and out to the cracked and broken pavement out the front.  They stand together, panting breaths sending puffs of misty air out into the deepening dusk as the day slips even closer into night.  The snow is falling faster now, no longer dancing but now coming down as if with purpose.  David shivers as he looks at the flakes, rushing towards their inevitable soggy end now rather than twisting and dancing as if on spirited legs.  The wind is cutting through the hoodie he’s wearing, whistling in under the open edges of his jacket and making him shudder with the cold.  

Beside him, Matteo has lit up a smoke of some sort, and David doesn’t want to know what type of smoke it might be.  It’s enough that it smells terrible, the smoke acrid in the gusts of wind whipping around them, but that somehow Matteo makes it look good.  His eyes when he blows the smoke out flicker closed, his head tips back and David is drawn to the long length of his throat exposed by the movement.  Which is almost as infuriating as the revolting smell.

“How long before it gets here?” David asks, trying to shake off the sudden flush of heat that Matteo’s smoking has dragged into his own body, swamping it and masking the chill of the night.

That might have been a mistake as Matteo looks over at him, the smudges under his eye almost invisible now and his eyes a deep reflective blue in the artificial lights as his hair flops down over his face.  It’s so reminiscent of their first discussion under harsh lights outside a school room, that David has to suck in a breath and drop his own eyes to the ground, focusing instead on the scuffed shoes he’s chosen to wear.

“It’s about five minutes away,” Matteo says, and David nods morosely.  Five minutes.  Might as well be an eternity.

“Why can’t either of us drive?” David asks, not really intending to be heard but Matteo huffs out a tiny laugh drawing David’s eyes right back up to his face.

“Because we’re lazy fucks,” he says, his eyes glinting as he takes another drag on the smoke between his fingers, then offers it to David.

The smell crashes over him again, and he wrinkles his nose.  Shakes his head.  There’s a flicker of something on Matteo’s face, his eyes shutter for a brief moment before he nods and takes another drag himself.  The hint of a smile is gone, and when Matteo turns his back to the wall and looks up at the sky David knows the conversation is done.

This always happens.  There’s some small start at camaraderie or conversation, but then it shuts down almost as soon as it begins, leaving David ill at ease, body thrumming from a desire he can’t explain and head stuffed full of contradictory thoughts.  Matteo is at once enthralling and exasperating, never opening up enough to let David see inside.  As if that one long ago conversation was all David was ever to be allowed to see and to know and everything else is cut off before it can even begin.  It stabs at him again that Matteo isn’t like this with anyone else.  With them he’s charming and open, teasing and sarcastic, alive in a way that David is never allowed to see if they’re ever alone in this way.  Not that David wants to be allowed inside.  He just wishes he knew what the hell he’d done to make Matteo this different around him.

There was part of him, back then, that had wondered if Matteo was some sort of asshole who’d worked out David’s secret from that evening they’d shared and rejected him because of that.  Back then, it was all rough and raw and cut him to the bone whenever he ran up against the prejudices of others.  It’s not as bad now, not when he’s lived long enough in the world to feel more secure in his own skin.  He’s much less likely to give in to the desire to run and to hide.  Still.  The lingering feelings from those days colour every interaction with Matteo and it always ends like this.  Stilted conversations that go nowhere and a Matteo who’s closed off and shut down.

Before he can let his thoughts darken any more, headlights flash around the corner and a small boxy car slides up next to them.  Matteo’s bending to look into the window, and laughing at something the driver has said, all hints of his earlier tiredness dissipating as he turns to grab their bags and fling them into the car’s backseat.  The contrast is so stark that David can’t help the pain that lances through him as he climbs into the back seat next to the pile of bags.  

It only takes about ten minutes to get to the cabin, but in that time the snow becomes heavier until it’s almost impossible to see as they make their way through the night, headlights barely making any headway against the thickening shroud as it falls.  The driver has stopped cracking jokes and started squinting through the windscreen, his hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel and his face a mask of concentration.  Matteo has subsided too, his exhaustion obvious in the way he lets himself flop back against the headrest.  It all leaves David to the joys of his own thoughts, which are not particularly peaceful.

Sighing in relief as they arrive, he’s able to shake off the approaching melancholy and get their belongings safely stored into the cabin. David looks around him as they stand just inside the entrance.  It looks pleasant enough, this cabin they’ve rented, with a large open plan kitchen taking up most of the space at one end of the long room, and a table breaking the space between it and the living area which is filled with plump couches and overstuffed chairs.  Thankfully, there’s a wall heater as well as the fire place with wood neatly stacked inside.  It’s so cold in the unheated room that David is shivering again, and he knows there’s no way that fire will generate any heat any time soon.

Matteo seems to have had a similar thought, because he strides over to the heater and pushes a few buttons.

“Putting that on the highest it will go,” he says as he turns back to the luggage they’ve stacked just inside the front door and starts pulling out the various foodstuffs they’ve brought with them.

Part of David wants to argue, to push back against the assumption that Matteo gets to be in charge and making all those sorts of decisions.  But a bigger part of him knows that’s unreasonable and knows that if he’d been the one to turn it on he’d have done exactly the same thing, so he just hums an affirmation and bends to help Matteo with the food.  They work in near silence, with the occasional query about where to store certain foods the only discussion.

David wouldn’t call it uncomfortable exactly, but he can tell just how tired Matteo is and just how much he wants to be away from David.  The chilly tension from the station remains with them, and David hopes like hell that the rest of the boys aren’t too far away.  He needs their cheerful exuberance to make it through this trip with any sort of enjoyment.  This frosty, barely-there communication Matteo has going on is putting a huge dampener on David’s experience of this time.

The chill in the air wears off as they work, pushed away both by the heater’s warmth and the effort of heaving things around, but the chill between the two of them lingers.  David wistfully hopes that by the time they’re done their company will have arrived.  He’s not sure how much longer he can endure this silence and tension once he has nothing to focus on and they’re forced into some weird semblance of intimacy.

They’re just about finished, storing the last few beers into the suitably large fridge, when Matteo’s phone pings loudly.  He shoves the beers he’s holding deeper into the fridge and by the time he’s dragged the phone out of his pocket it has sounded twice more.

Matteo’s face flickers as he reads the messages and his lips crease into an angry line.

“Fuck,” he says softly, so quietly that David is sure he wasn’t supposed to hear, but he can’t help the inquisitive hum he makes.

Matteo’s eyes snap up to him as if he’s just realised David is still here with him.

“The boys aren’t coming,” he says, his face flushing as he drops his gaze away from David’s.  There’s resignation and irritation in his voice and a scowl on his face.  David winces.  That’s one possibility he hadn’t even considered, too consumed by the need for the rest of the boys and their enlivening presence perhaps.

“What?  Why?”

“Snow storm, apparently.  They can’t get through.  Stuck at some little hotel somewhere on the road.”

That’s just great, David thinks viciously.  The boys were supposed to be his buffer.  They were supposed to make this thing something like fun.  Instead he’s stuck here with someone who clearly finds his company less than ideal.  Someone who David himself finds difficult to get through to, and with whom he has a complicated history.  Worse, the boys have all the equipment with them, so there’s no chance even for skiing or snowboarding to get him away from the supremely awkward moments he can already sense looming in his future.

He flings the door open and looks outside.  Indeed, the snow has piled up so there’s about a foot drifted against the cabin already.  It’s not stopping anytime soon, either, as the flakes are falling so steadily now that it’s impossible to make out one from another.  Any hope of the boys getting through to rescue David stutters to a halt, lost in the chilled white wall piling up in front of him.  

Beside him, Matteo huffs his own irritation.

“Fuck,” he says again, louder this time.

David has to agree with that sentiment as he closes the door, blocking out the unwelcome sight of the silent, muffled white world building its armour against them.  Fuck, indeed.

[twokinkybeans]

FALLEN LIKE SNOW - CHAPTER ONE: PRETTY PLEASE

Written by @jeranasblog​ and Kinkybeanlien

(moodboard made by @jeranasblog​)

After an unfortunate run in with his boss – Tony Stark – and a paparazzi in an elevator, Peter Parker finds himself at the top of a piste, skis attached to his feet and living the trope he has only read about in fan fiction.

Will he only fall flat on his face in the snow? Or will he fall for his annoyingly selfish boss as well?

-

Notes: Adult Peter Parker, Fake dating, One sided enemies to lovers, No powers!AU, Mutual pining, Sugar daddy!Tony, Sugar baby!Peter, Fluff, Smut and Angst. Smut tags for later: Wet Dream, Dry Humping, Daddy Kink, Mirror Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Bondage, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Fingering, Edging, Lingerie, Dom/Top!Tony, Sub/Bottom!Peter

-

Read Chapter 1 Pretty Please on AO3!

Ugh. Peter rolled his neck as he stepped into the elevator. He pushed his shoulder back and flinched when he cracked. This internship was a killer on his body. It was fun and educational, for sure, but he really needed to mind his posture. Being hunched over his desk was already taking its toll. If only he could afford a physical therapist… “Babe, hold the elevator, please!” In a reflex, Peter pressed the button to keep the elevator door open and he looked up to see none other than his boss, Tony Stark, rushing for him. His mood soured immediately and he considered pressing the button to close the elevator doors. As much as he liked the work he did, Peter wasn’t very fond of the person he was working for. Wait… Did Mr. Stark just call him “Babe?” When Tony got close to the elevator he shouted. “Close it, close it!” Peter pressed the right button. His boss probably thought he could squeeze in at the last second, but unfortunately for him, that’s not how elevators work. Tony threaded the needle as the door closed, but the sensor picked up on him and Peter snorted when the doors opened again. The young man glanced up and saw a small horde of paparazzi rushing their way. Suddenly, Tony pressed into his space and took over the button, pushing Peter’s hand aside and repeatedly tapping the button as if that would make the elevator doors close faster. Peter scoffed and stepped back, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Whoever let them in the building is going to get fired,” Tony seethed. “Maybe your security system is just lacking.” Peter said the words before he could think them through and if looks could kill, Peter would have been on the shiny elevator floor right now. “Mister Stark-!” One of the paparazzi, a young sprite who definitely didn’t look like she was with the gossip magazine her badge claimed her to be from, managed to get into the elevator. The doors closed, leaving the others behind. The elevator slowly started moving down. The three of them stood awkwardly. “I’m not answering your questions,” Tony said quickly. The paparazzi grinned and turned to Peter, who took a small, uncertain step back. “Well, then I’ll just ask your boyfriend.” “B-boyfriend?” Peter stuttered and glanced at Tony wide-eyed. The older man blinked once and wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulder. The boy’s brows curled up into a frown. “Ah, yes! We prefer the term ‘significant other,’ right, babe?” Tony stared down into Peter’s eyes, a demanding fire in them telling Peter he would lose his internship if he didn’t play along. Peter laughed awkwardly. “Right,” he stammered.  “What a scoop!” The young woman jumped once, only to realize they were in a moving elevator. She contained her excitement by almost literally vibrating in her spot. “Tony Stark’s new boyfriend! Or- significant other. What’s your name?” Peter’s lips pulled together in a pout. He sucked at his teeth and stopped himself from flinching when Tony’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Peter.” “Last name?” “Private.” “Peter Private?” “No, Miss, he doesn’t want to disclose his last name. Duh.” Tony rolled his eyes and relaxed a little, letting Peter’s shoulder go, only to move his hand down to Peter’s back. It was warm and present and Peter wasn’t sure if he was okay with it. It felt strangely good, though. “Fair enough, I’ll figure that one out on my own.” The woman winked and Peter wished he could just disappear. “So, how long?” “Couple weeks,” Tony replied before Peter could protest or give any kind of answer on his own. “I take it you’re bringing him to the annual ‘Valentine’s Ski Charity’ event?” Peter’s eyes went wide. He’d heard about Tony’s infamous parties that he liked to throw in the most expensive places; Tirol in Austria being one of them. The charity event always sounded like an excuse for Stark to go all out and spend bucket loads of money to bring over all his bougie friends to get drunk and have lots of sex. Something Peter would rather not be a part of. “Obviously,” Tony scoffed. Peter raised an eyebrow and tried to keep a straight face, but this was starting to become too much. This man was unreal. He was using Peter. What a dick. Before Peter could explain the truth, the elevator doors opened. The woman from the paparazzi was ushered away by security, but everyone outside the elevator in the lobby could see Tony holding Peter the way he was. The way people in a relationship would hold each other. Oh, God. Peter felt sick. He wanted to run, but Tony closed the elevator doors and asked his AI to take them up to his office. Peter could only stare at his boss with a mixture of fear and anger, feeling the press of his hand still on his back. The ride up is silent. Peter could tell Tony was prepping some kind of grand speech for when they would get up to the office. However, Peter was certain he could kiss his internship goodbye. … When the friendly voice of Tony’s AI announced the arrival at his private office, Peter was frozen, staring at the arm of his boss, which was still wrapped around his middle. Neither of them made any attempts to move and Peter desperately wished he was somewhere else. The uneasy feeling was getting harder and harder to ignore until finally Tony removed his hand from Peter’s back and stepped out of the elevator and into his office. “I’m sorry, Mr.- Peter.” Tony sighed, falling onto the chair behind his desk in theatrical fashion. He looked several years older when the fake smile that he had worn in the presence of the reporter vanished and Peter was plagued by an unwanted feeling of pity. Sure, his boss was a dick, but the discomfort on his face wasn’t pretended. “Could you do me a favor and take a seat?” Tony gestured at the empty chair opposite the desk and, reluctantly, Peter followed the order. This was the time he would lose his internship. He had worked for it since he was in high school and now that dream would crumble into a million pieces due to his inability to keep his mouth shut.  The silence was painful. Peter looked at his knees and fumbled with his sleeves. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. A million thoughts were running through Peter’s mind and he wished he could take his words back. Sure, scoffing at his boss was satisfying for a second, but it wasn’t worth losing the internship. When Tony still didn’t speak after several minutes, Peter got anxious and started to babble. “Look, Mr. Stark. I didn’t mean to insult your security system, but that’s no reason to take away my internship. I didn’t say anything to the reporters, I even played along, so just think about it before you fire me, please?” His voice died away the longer he was talking. “Mr.-?” “Parker, Sir.” His voice was dripping with venom as he called his boss ‘Sir’. “Mr. Parker, nobody said anything about losing the internship.” Fine, he would pack his stuff right away. He didn’t have many things at his desk, but he had to say goodbye to his coworkers at least- Wait, did he understand that right? He didn’t just get sacked? “I’m not fired?” He asked stupidly, staring at his boss with wide eyes. “No, Peter. You aren’t.” Peter didn’t comment on the familiar use of his first name, afraid to go too far so that Tony would change his mind. “But there is another thing I have to ask of you. Of course, there was a catch. Peter was talking to Tony Stark; one of the most selfish people on the entire planet. He would never let Peter get away so easily. “So, I basically told the world that you’re my ‘significant other’.” The painful expression on Tony’s face made Peter even angrier. “And I also said that you would come along to the ski event I’m hosting every year.” “Apparently,” Peter replied dryly, hoping he didn’t look too disgusted. Tony took a deep breath, his gaze fixated on Peter during his next words. “Peter, would you pretend to be my boyfriend during the event? I have to bring a date and we’ll be all over the news tomorrow anyways.”  Peter blinked, staring at his boss and waiting for him to laugh. This had to be a joke, Tony would tell him any second now, that he was just kidding. That Peter was fired. But another look at the tired face of his boss confirmed that he was actually serious. “You want me to do what?” Tony’s expression turned painful again. “I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend during the ‘Valentine’s Ski Charity’ event. Pretty please?” Fuck. Peter started to panic. He didn’t want to play Tony Stark’s boyfriend, he didn’t want to pretend that he liked the selfish man, and he definitely didn’t want to go to the stupid event where everyone would spend the day drinking alcohol and having sex with strangers. Hell, he couldn’t even ski. The problem was, he didn’t want to lose his internship either, so the decision was made before he could think too long about the upcoming weekend.  “I don’t have anything to wear.” Peter regretted his words immediately after they had left his mouth and he blushed furiously. Tony Stark, billionaire and playboy, was asking him, Peter Parker, for a favor and he could have asked for anything in return. He could have asked for a job after his internship or let his boss squirm with discomfort with hilarious demands. But instead, he had embarrassed himself, indirectly accepting the invitation while admitting that he didn’t have enough money to buy appropriate clothes.  “Don’t worry, kid,” his boss said with a big smile which made Peter sick. “We’ll get you something tailored. That’s the least I could do, obviously.” “Obviously,” Peter mumbled, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He hoped he had spoken quiet enough that Tony couldn’t hear it. Of course, the billionaire would take him to his personal tailor. How would it look if Tony spent time with a cheaply dressed person? At least, Tony Stark owed him something. Peter planned to take advantage of this promise. “All right.” Peter sighed, determined to get it over with. “Just tell me when and where you need me.” Tony grinned broadly as if Peter had just saved his day. Well, he probably had. The man tapped his tablet a few times. “I’ll pick you up tonight, 15th street, to take you to the tailor. Just bring yourself, I’ll bring the money.” He chuckled slightly, but the sound died down as he saw the petrified expression on Peter’s face. “Do I even need to ask how you got my address?” “Honey, you work for me. I didn’t even have to hack your phone.” A cold shiver ran down Peter’s spine and he quickly stood up to make his way out. “Don’t call me honey.” The words sounded angrier than he wanted them to. “Okay, okay.” Tony raised his hands to appease him. “Thanks again. I’ll pick you up at six o’clock.” “Goodbye, Mr. Stark.” Peter relaxed when the doors of the elevator finally closed behind him. Why did things like this always happen to him? Now he had to spend a horrible week in the middle of nowhere in Austria in the company of a man he despised. He couldn’t even get home alone if things would get too bad because there was no way he could afford a flight from Austria to the States. MJ would kill him when he would tell her how he handled the situation. The only thing he was looking forward to was the opportunity to learn how to ski.  … The elevator doors opened when Peter arrived on the ground floor, and one look at the crowded entry hall was enough for him to feel sick. Everyone was staring at him, the receptionist behind her desk, three men in expensive-looking suits at the end of the hall, even the cleaning staff stopped their work. Not even an hour had passed and the whole company knew of his ‘relationship’ with his boss. He felt like an animal in the zoo, caged in the small elevator and Peter wanted to take a lift back up, if it wouldn’t mean spending time with Tony Stark again. And he could definitely do without that. So, he gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and practically ran to the exit door. He tried not to listen, but he failed. “Isn’t he the one Tony Stark called his boyfriend? Why is a billionaire interested in someone so normal? Do you think he used sex to get his internship?” Peter heard his own blood rushing in his ears, and he swallowed, calming himself down because he didn’t want to cause a scene. They could say anything, that he is a sugar babe and just wants the billionaire’s money, but he couldn’t stand someone accusing him of getting his internship only because he had slept with the boss. Peter had worked hard for it every day. When he finally left the building, he was trembling, and his breath had quickened. Anger and fear raged inside of him, threatening to take him under and he fumbled for his phone in his backpack. It was all Tony’s fault. Of course, the billionaire would declare him his ‘significant other’ without thinking about the consequences for Peter. And now he even had to go shopping with him like a child that was allowed to buy new stuff with his Dad. The thought made his stomach churn. Tony Stark was a heartless and selfish person, but now it was too late to stay away from him. Peter was relieved when he eventually found his phone. He dialed the number of his best friend immediately. “Peter?” MJ’s voice sounded confused. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” Peter swallowed and pinched the back of his nose. How could he explain the situation? It was already a disaster. “I’m on my way home early. I have a problem.” “So bad, that you couldn’t even wait until you get home?” Now he could definitely hear concern in her voice. “Yes.” “Aight, shoot.” Peter pondered how to phrase it while he was waiting for the subway. He didn’t want all the people around him to know what’s going on. “So, you know my boss?” MJ sighed, and he could practically see her raising her eyebrows in his mind. “Pete, you know I do. You can’t spend a week without complaining about him. What’s it today?” “Hey!” She was right, MJ always was, but he had every damn right to dislike Tony Stark. The man was a plague, a curse, and the world would be better off without the playboy. Today, he had learned to hate the arrogant prick even more. When the subway arrived and Peter got in, he decided to tell it short. He didn’t have much time today because Tony-I’m-the-center-of-the-world-Stark would pick him up later. Brilliant. “You’ll read all over the news tomorrow that I am his new boyfriend.” There were a few seconds of silence before MJ started to choke and furiously coughed into the phone. “Jesus, Pete. A little warning would be nice. How did you manage to get yourself in such a situation?” “It wasn’t my fault,” Peter said defensively. “There were paparazzi following him. He wanted to escape and called me babe, asking me to keep the elevator doors open.” “He did what?” Peter wasn’t sure if MJ believed him. “I don’t know why he did it, MJ. And then there was this woman, and she started to ask questions, and then he wrapped his arms around me, and said I am his boyfriend and that I would come with him to this stupid ski event and-“ “Okay, Pete. Stop.” MJ interrupted his rambling. “Take a deep breath and tell me about it from the beginning. Peter obeyed and tried to calm himself down. He had been on edge for the last hour and becoming hysterical wouldn’t help him now. “Have you ever heard of the ‘Valentine’s Ski Charity’ event?” MJ chuckled. “Sure, Pete. You told me about it several times while you ranted about your boss.” Peter blushed, he didn’t notice before how much he was complaining about Tony, but he still thought it was justified. “When he told the press that I am his boyfriend, the reporter asked him whether I would come to this stupid event, and he said yes. Then he begged me to come along, play his boyfriend and promised me we can break-up afterward.” MJ roared with laughter and if his boss wouldn’t be such an asshole, he might have smiled himself. However, things were how they were, and Peter wished he could disappear for a week for the millionth time. MJ was still giggling, but she regained the better part of her control. “Peter, you can just say no. I don’t think he would fire you for that. Just tell him it’s your aunt’s birthday or something like that.” Peter paused. He hadn’t thought about that before. The fear of losing his internship had apparently switched off his brain and now he could hit himself for that. “It might be too late,” Peter confessed sheepishly while he got off the subway at his stop. “I didn’t react that well.” The silence that followed was uncomfortable. “What did you say, Peter?” He considered hanging up for a moment just to avoid her reaction, but it was better to get it over with while they were just calling. MJ would let him know her opinion anyway and it was easier when he didn’t have to look at her. “I might have told him that I have nothing to wear and now he is taking me to his personal tailor later.” Peter heard a loud thud, probably MJ banging her head on the table and it was followed by a long groan. “Peter.” “I know.” He started to panic, he didn’t want to fly to Austria, he didn’t want to spend a weekend in an overly expensive hotel and he definitely didn’t want to keep the mighty Tony Stark company. “MJ, I don’t want to go.” It was silent for a second and whatever he had expected, it wasn’t this. “You think you’ll lose your internship if you cancel?” “Yes.” “Do you want to lose your internship?” “No, of course not.” “Then stop whining like a child and enjoy the money your boss will be spending on you. Peter, you already said yes. Get over your stupid disgust and keep your promises.” Peter sulked for a second. He knew she was right and he needed to hear that, but it was so difficult to swallow the feelings. Just once, the billionaire should be let down. He should see what it feels like if you couldn’t buy something with money, that the world wasn’t centered around him. But Peter had already agreed, so there was no other option. “Fine, I’ll go. But for the record, I’m going to bug you with all my complaints in the next few days.” MJ snorted loudly. “As if that would make a difference; you already do it anyway.” Hey, that wasn’t fair. “Jerk.” “Coward.” He had to smile a little. At least he knew she would kick his ass if he would fuck something up. He adored his best friend, even when she was bossy sometimes. “Love you.” “Love you, too, Pete. Enjoy the weekend with your Sugar Daddy.” He hung up without saying goodbye. … Peter paced through his room. It’s a few minutes before six and all his mind could focus on was the fact that he was going to go to Austria. With Tony Stark. This weekend. Shit. He looked up the area and as gorgeous as it is, the whole situation was incredibly daunting. The nearest airport is Innsbruck. He figured that’d be important to know, should he need to get away. He got so caught up in his research, that he forgot the time. He can’t help it that Innsbruck is one of the hardest airports to land on because of the steep descent between all the mountains and the heavy updrafts? There are only a couple pilots who can actually fly via Innsbruck because the landing is deemed incredibly difficult and dangerous. That’s nuts! Ah, dang it, he was doing it again. But then, he’d rather think about the awesome videos of aircrafts landing and taking off at Innsbruck Airport than what he was about to do. Go shopping. With Tony Stark. Shit. Peter wanted to wear something at least slightly presentable, but with his measly college student budget, he didn’t have anything that could impress the CEO of his internship company. Who was Peter even kidding? Why would he want to impress Mr. Stark? The man barely glanced at him when they first met all those months ago. Peter looked up to him so much and when they first met, Tony straight up ignored him. He’s an asshole. Right? Popping the news to May was a whole other thing. Peter decided to only give his aunt half-truths, opting to keep the “fake dating” side of the story a secret. She was ecstatic, though. Her nephew was going to Austria for Tony Stark’s charity event! Ugh. She immediately rushed to the set of drawers in the living room to dust off his passport that he barely used and started gathering her inflatable cushion and other items that would make the flight more comfortable. While he appreciated May and everything she did for him, part of Peter wanted for none of this to be necessary. Why did he agree to this again? ... A strange combined rush of excitement and embarrassment washed over Peter when Tony rocked up to the poor student’s apartment building in his gigantic, polished Audi. Mr. Stark roared the engines a few times and Peter wasn’t sure if it was to get his attention or everybody else’s. Peter pretended he didn’t see his neighbors, who were walking their dog, watch him climb into the passenger’s seat of the insanely expensive sports car. He was quietly grateful that the windows were blinded. “Hey, kid,” Tony quipped. “Hey.” It stayed quiet, save for the car rumbling like a hunting lioness. Peter’s mind raced. He was in a car. With Tony Stark. Shit. Everything about this seemed so unreal, like a dream of which he couldn’t decide whether it was good or bad. The smell of the leather interior of the car tickled the insides of his nose and his fingers fiddled with the fabric of his jeans. Why weren’t they moving yet? Why wasn’t Tony driving? What is Mr. Stark waiting for? Oh, God. When Peter finally dared to turn his head to look at his boss, the man was staring back at him over his blue-tinted glasses with his eyebrows raised. “W-what?” Peter managed to stutter. Tony nodded at Peter’s chest and briefly mentioned what it was lacking. “Seatbelt.” ... “So,” Tony said after clearing his throat. The car ride had been silent and relatively awkward up until now. “I read up on you in your files, but you, Peter Parker, are very hard to read in person.” Peter pressed his lips on top of each other, forcing himself to keep looking out the window instead of at Mr. Stark. It’s not like Peter had a solid reply to that remark anyways. “If we’re going to do this, we’re gonna at least have to talk to each other.” “I know,” Peter sighed. He used the palm of his hand to rub his forehead while squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s just a lot all at once, okay?” Peter turned his head to look at Tony, only to find he wasn’t even holding the wheel of the car. It was driving itself. Peter stared at it wide-eyed. Tony cocked his head and showed a toothy grin with only one corner of his mouth curled up. “I like to tinker more than anything.” Great, Peter just voiced how insecure he is about all of this and Tony once again managed to turn the conversation to himself. “Modern Da Vinci,” Peter quoted the news sites, hoping that stroking his boss’s ego would help the situation. “Whoever said that is a liar,” Tony dismissed, tracing the leather of the wheel with his index fingers. Peter couldn’t help but stare at the rough hands and the way they caressed their property. Peter’s mouth went dry. He wanted – no, needed – to remind himself why his teenage crush on the man had crumbled. However, Peter couldn’t help how unfairly hot his boss was, even when he was nearing his fifties. Tony looked back up at Peter with raised eyebrows. “I don’t paint.” “Maybe you should.” Peter could hit himself. What was that kind of an answer? “I mean I could always just throw some grease on a canvas and call it art. Shit sells as long as you’re already rich and call it art.” “A lucrative business.” “Eh.” Tony shrugged. “I’m already surrounded by enough pretentious snobs. My art collection’s completely managed by my secretary.” Peter barely managed to hold in a snort. Pretentious snobs. Had the man never looked in a mirror? Or listened to himself talk? Tony pushed a hand through his hair and shifted in his seat so he could face Peter more easily. “Look, kid, I’m sorry for dragging you into this.” “To be honest, Mr. Stark, I’m not sure if you are.” The words left Peter’s mouth before he could think them through and he quietly sucked in a breath. “What are you implying?” Tony’s tone is slightly threatening and Peter bit his lip with frustration when his body betrayed him, as the blood started rushing to his member. Why was Tony’s authoritative voice so hot? It wasn’t fair. “You called me ‘babe’ in front of all the paparazzi.” “Honest mistake.” “Honest mist-“ Peter pressed his lips on top of each other to keep himself from finishing his sarcastic parroting. “Right.” “I’m not gonna lie, I wouldn’t have called you that if you weren’t as pretty as you are- God!” Tony dropped himself back against his seat and groaned. “I’m bad at this, okay? I figured I’d have a date- someone actually willing- for this stupid event, but I don’t.” Stark straightened his shoulders and glanced at Peter. “And it’s selfish of me to think that I can just ask anybody and that they’ll drop whatever they’re doing to help me. So, if you don’t want this, just tell me ‘kay? I’m big on consent. I’ll just pay some other guy to do this. You’re obviously uncomfortable.” “Stupid event?” “Is that literally all you got from that?” Tony scoffed. Peter squinted slightly but swallowed his snarky reply. Tony sighed. “This Valentine’s event was set up when I was still with Pepper and it’s been an annual thing for over twelve years now. The charity celebrates love.” Tony spoke animatedly, the movement of his hands emphasizing his words. “The event has one rule that I stupidly decided to implement when I was a cocky engaged prick.” He paused, blinking twice. “No donating when you’re single.” “Why not change the rule?” “Cause that’s even more selfish than implementing it in front of all of your single friends when drunk and enforcing it all the years you do have a relationship with a woman you don’t even love.” Tony pressed his lips into a tight, ingenuine smile and faced the road again. It faltered and the tired CEO Peter had seen earlier today is back. “This is one of the events I spend a lot of dollars on because I know how difficult love is. But with that said, I don’t want you or anybody to feel forced into this. Just say the word, kid, I’ll drop you off back at your apartment and I’ll be out of your hair.” It was quiet for a second before Peter’s shoulders relaxed and he eased back into the chair. Tony didn’t necessarily want Peter as a tool to show off. Tony wanted Peter so he could donate to his own charity event. Kind of weird, but not... Bad. It was weird how Peter kept creating images of who his boss is in his head that always ended up being contradictory to the truth. When he was younger his mind deemed Tony a hero. His teen self revered the man as a sex symbol. The first week of his internship was a dream come true and after the “Hi there, Mr. Stark, I wanted to thank you for-” “Don’t have time for you, bye.” incident it all turned sour. His adoration turned to distaste. The man was a selfish asshole to Peter for so long. And now... Now he was telling Peter all of this? That he’s... Good? In a way? It was all so confusing. But at least it made Peter hate the situation less. He knew this year’s charity was for LGBTQ+ youth, so Tony wanting to donate to the cause this badly must mean something. And it also meant a lot to Peter. He could definitely suck up and bask in a week of luxury and wealth and take the rich pricks for what they are if it means Tony pays the charity a good chunk of his cash stack. “So, how long ‘til we reach the tailor?” Peter said, looking straight ahead and trying to hide a smile. Tony didn’t even bother to conceal his happiness at Peter’s remark and sat back to enjoy the ride as well. “Couple of minutes.” … Even though Peter was cautious because he didn’t want to be let down again, he felt himself loosening up to Tony a little more as the evening went on. He couldn’t help it; the billionaire was charming and funny and smart... Peter rarely met anyone who was this easy to talk to. Mr. Stark seemed pleasantly surprised when Peter genuinely laughed at his niche joke about hydraulic engines and Peter even quipped one about thermal physics himself when discussing the clothes they’d be wearing on the pistes. Tony’s laugh was on loop in his brain for the next five minutes the tailor spent measuring each inch of Peter’s body. He made Tony Stark laugh. Something inside Peter stirred when the man behind the till told Tony what the tailored suit was going to cost. The stirring turned into something more when Stark handed the man his black credit card and waved it off. Three months of rent in Manhattan. For a suit. The next store Tony drove them to sold all kinds of winter gear. Peter said he’d be okay with just one outfit, but Tony wouldn’t hear it. Peter had to wear something different every day of the week. There was something about Tony staring at Peter’s body in the skin-tight thermal wear that made Peter turn his lower body away from the billionaire. Because the ‘more’ had turned to ‘even more’ at this point. And Peter didn’t want Tony to see what the tight clothes couldn’t hide. The clothes were starting to layer and pile. Store after store was visited and Peter was only allowed to fit the most expensive pieces of clothing. Cashmere turtlenecks and silk jackets, leather and suede shoes, even soft cotton underwear. Everything Peter would wear and carry had Tony’s money all over it. Peter ended up with multiple outfits for every day of the trip. He was never one for shopping, but Tony’s eyes staring at him, judging him, and his soft lips telling him to make a turn, and complimenting him, had Peter dizzy by the time they left the last store. He could barely contain a thrust of his hips and hold back a moan when Tony placed a hand on his shoulder at the last store as he handed the black credit card to the salesman who just scored the jackpot for his provisional sales percentage. “All for him,” Tony had said. Peter’s tailored suits would be express shipped to their hotel in Gerlos, as would all the ski gear. Once again, all Peter had to bring was himself. It was strange. Peter had to remind himself that Tony was doing all of this for a reason. If Peter feels confident and looks good, he’ll be a better and more convincing boyfriend. He was silently being bribed, Peter was sure of it. No matter how kind Tony may seem, he’s still the ass Peter met that one day. Certainly.

[ayakashiramblings]

Dawn & Twilight Faction reacting to a Demon!MC

@bitchyings

Here you go! Hope you like it! I couldn’t resist throwing in a certain game, LOL.

Prologue

“You toast people now as well. Congratulations and good-bye!”

Honestly, you were still processing what was being said to you, looking back and forth from him to his hellhound. It was even almost like Cerebus was offering pity in his puppy eyes. 

It had all started with an explosion following the latest defeat of a wraith. Your merry little band of burly ayakashi were witnesses to a blonde man suddenly appearing. Apparently, it wasn’t really a man but a devil. 

That you were starting to resemble. It seemed as if it was he first time leathery, onyx wings unfurled from your back and a forked tail swished back and forth. 

Oh, and of course, the horns sprouting from your head. 

And you screamed and screamed and screamed until your chosen Ayakashi swooped you into his arms.

Koga Kitamikado

They lock horns but it’s not in a negative sense. Rather romantic, honestly. 

It’s like leaning against each other foreheads and lightly bumping each other. 

For once, Koga doesn’t have to worry about accidentally impaling your skull.

It’s actually pretty cheesy and cavity-inducing at this point. 

Even Ginnojo has stopped blushing because it’s been THAT long. 

Of course, he does want to learn how you will cope with being a demon. At this point, he rallies the others around in helping you become a full-fledged one. 

Makes sure you get complete privacy whenever you want to reveal your demon nature because he knows the urge to be your natural self. 

Once he sees your newfound skills, he’d beam with pride at your ability to handle yourself – he likes a strong, confident woman.

That said, know that you can rely on him and everyone else. 

They were the last people to judge someone for what they are, and he especially increases his wariness around soldiers like Aizen who sought to destroy those different from the rest in the Capital.

He’s especially impressed that now you and Kuya can fight in tandem in the sky while pairing up with him on the ground. 

And on top of that, you’re still banishing wraiths? Sparring with him? Using horns as a weapon? Mark him as scared and... hehe... horny.

You can’t stop me. Fight me.

Kuya

“Wow, you have to do more work? That sucks.”

This man doesn’t even care about your new features except for the changes in your crowded schedule. 

You aren’t too sure how to feel about that. 

But remember, he recalls how he even became a tengu in this time from his human past life.

He does genuinely want to help you but tries to remain nonchalant about the whole affair in order not to freak you out.

So he is determined to treat you like normal. 

Maybe even help you fit in with the rest of the devils you may encounter. He doesn’t want you to feel left out like how he felt in his childhood.

As long as your tail doesn’t brush his feathers... and of course it does. 

Finally, you can use your wings. He had always wondered why you didn’t use them before. Wasn’t walking difficult?

Even Aoi has stopped lecturing at that point. Why Kuya? 

Seriously though, Kuya is ironically the most useful out of everyone because you do need to learn how to take to the skies and still battle. 

“I’m going to write a story about living 10 days with a devil but hopefully, we live together longer than that. Your wings are great as a blanket.”

Haruhito is honoured to be part of the ensemble.

Aoi

“I have a supply of holy water. Normal holy water, fancy holy water and rainbow-coloured holy water!”

I know Aoi, you’re the only one who gives me worthy and helpful rewards to increase my strength at the Milk Hall, unlike a certain employer.

So it’s to his shock that you recoil like he has stung you. 

Apparently, he did. 

Maybe he can give me Romance Sonnet Keys instead.

Feels so bad that he immediately prostrated himself for almost an entire day after being told he couldn’t offer you his arm for the one you burnt. 

Is so grateful that your new form means faster healing powers. 

In fact, he’s secretly glad you gained extra abilities because that means he doesn’t have to worry about you holding your own against opponents strong against divination powers. 

Because you have devilish skills.

Sometimes, you feel that becoming a demon means being associated with evil. After all, look at all the negative connotations hell has for the humans and the books they have.

Rolls his eyes so hard that you’re worried they will fall out of his sockets even as he places his hand over your heart.

“It certainly isn’t human but you’re still good. Still the same negatives and positives. Now stop and appreciate yourself or else I will.”

Actually learns how to summon you with whatever ingredients he has in the kitchen. 

Now Oji actually remembers them because it’s really adorable seeing his son and future daughter-in-law meeting each other once Aoi pours more salt than usual that it ‘accidentally’ ends up on the floor along with a bunch of ‘random’ items and a surprisingly well-drawn figure of your symbol.

Ginnojo 

Poor grandpa is so confused.

In the olden days, people worked so hard to banish any evil spirits. 

But? You? Are? Not? Evil?

He soldiers on. Does intense research, on his surprisingly large stock on demons and devils. 

Even learns English and other languages from Kuro and Koga so that he knows what spells will help you. 

Insisted he trains with you rigorously to keep you at physical peak. 

Rides a water wave while you are flying (badly).

Probably puts out whatever mess you made if you are too smoking hot. 

Like literally smoking hot with the fires of hell.

Actually weaves you a charm but not the usual kind to ward off all things that go bump in the night. 

It’s a charm of crashing waves and the land when the Shinsengumi took their last stand. 

“Because I’m standing by you, come hell or high water.”

Yura

“Milady, you shall always be the loveliest lady I know, no matter what.”

Look, this man has had his own personal sins to overcome. How the heck can he judge you?

If anything, it’s sort of comforting to know that not all of his demons are scary and sinister. 

Because you are his. And you certainly are lovely.

Will play whatever you want on his flute, anything to match your mood as a sort of rhythm to your new life together as not being human. 

But fully capable of the whole emotion spectre for humans.

You deserved to preserve whatever you have learnt in your life even if fate has changed because of what you are going to have to decide to become. 

A girl like you has taught him to see and fight beyond a cursed destiny and he will help you to confront a whole new world beyond even ayakashi and spirits. 

Frankly, the only sin you guys will be practising would be gluttony for sweets.

Still is the best man to go to for divination and hexes. In fact, he tries to see if your skills can be advanced with the new demon powers and develop the techniques. 

You guys even create a cute shared diary of sorts detailing each experiment and composing whatever silly/serious song comes to mind.

It might encourage him to remain in his adult form more to be seen as reliable/tease you like a bigger imp than the supposed actual demon girl.

Toichiro Yuri

“Yeesh, and you were positively in a tizzy over us being Ayakashi.”

Give him the middle finger. It’s ok. 

The Dawn faction and the rest of the Twilight sect has your back (and newfound wings... and tail... and powers)

To be fair, he cannot call you a boring human. 

He still calls you a silly girl though which is... strangely comforting. 

But really, you do worry him. He has seen people being possessed by wraiths and wonders if this means you have become more susceptible to them or not. 

He’d trail after you without even Shizuki, hiding as you, sure enough, guided a spirit out to the ‘Demon World’. 

His kitsunebi would be in his hands without him even realizing it, should he need to release them to help you with your work. 

It’s how gentle you still are that convinces him you will be fine.

Is also the best man to go to if you want to disguise and blend in even if your powers are on the fritz which might be the case.

Sure, he would probably demand to have milk tea with you every day but interestingly it is him getting Shizuki to prepare the beverage while he acts like his foxy self to you doing absolutely nothing.

He does have the connections and sources out the best help possible. Whether you want to continue being a demon or not, he will be beside you.

That, unfortunately, also means being able to play more pranks and tease you further.

“Why, you’d have to be a devil to refuse my... ow! Ok! I’ll stop!”

Actually starts finding out if your powers will help with breaking the seal and the Kitsune clan.

Even vehemently defends you should there be any dissatisfaction amongst the elders. 

“We have a demon for an ally and you all scared of her? Are you joking with me?”

Give him a hug. It’s ok. 

Shizuki

“So long as you don’t harm the Yuri household, we are fine. But in order for that, you must be alright.”

Look, frankly, Toichiro is more of a pranking demon. 

At least he knows you can control yourself. 

Appreciates your determination in discovering more about demons but would be cautious about your safety. 

Literally supplies you with whatever you need as a demon but only if you asked. 

Sure, he might have learnt that some demons want a blood sacrifice and apparently ‘gross’ things.

It’s a good thing he doubts that the same girl who cried over snakes having no legs with Kuro would really want that.

Smart move, buddy. 

Is actually a bit glad to think that you have toughened up but if you are sad about your loss of humanity, he.... will suck at trying to cheer you up.

Goddamnit Shizuki, I need snuggles, not a bloody schedule.

To be fair though, procrastination isn’t going to help anybody and nobody knows this better than the snow spirit. 

You better work it, human or demon.

Protects you from Toichiro’s pranks to the best of his abilities...

.... which isn’t much but he will encourage you to make use of your heightened senses to pick up on danger and kitsunes.

Wonders if you would be more willing to do nightcaps with him. 

Spoiler Alert: No. Not until he stops freezing everything in sight. Sure, you can now remove it but that doesn’t mean you WANT it.

Kuro

“Holy, wow, they are leather! It’s like hugging a...!”

“If you dare say it is a cow Kuro, I am dumping you.”

He is extremely fascinated if your eyes change colour when tapping into your demon nature.

Might be more open to you just so that you can open up to him honestly. 

Even if that means you suddenly really needing darkness and the light hurts your eyes.

Is he scared of that? Heck yes.

But he’s more scared of losing you to yourself... 

Or to any hateful humans who could exorcise you.

A bit psyched that you can fly. 

“We can do a flying act together!”

And honestly? These flying acts help ease you into more of your demon antics and habits.

You guys actually challenge each other to try various things, even if you are unsure if it will be detrimental to him. 

Especially if he hasn’t revealed what he is at that point. 

But somehow, he reminds you that it isn’t what you are. 

So long as you can be reminded of warmth with his embrace, you’re great!

But he does have to be more careful because you do have some sharp appendages.

It only took him 5 very painful tackles for him to realize that. 

And he actually bought protection gear just to continue doing that. 

Anything for a great girl like you!

Oji

“Oh thank god. Now we can really grow old together.”

One good thing about being a century old is that he has at least heard of the existence of demons from other ayakashis. 

Being 100 years old has taught him that everything has its expiration date.

You being a demon changes all of that. And for the better.

Yup, he’s spending all of his time reminding you... that you’re still you. 

So that also means you’re still his and he is yours.

AND... leaving poor Aoi up to his eyeballs with customers.

Leaving you to become a mama demon.

Like both figuratively and literally. 

“STOP BULLYING OUR SON!”

“D’aww, wasn’t he mine first?”

Still though, you can’t help but appreciate this old fossil and during ACTUAL break hours, you become more willing to open up and literally unfurl those gorgeous wings.

Will always introduce you to the friendliest of customers so as to ease you back to the humans because he knows you might want to still be connected to the Capital.

Hopes you have the stereotypical fire powers to help with the stove duties. 

C’mon. This guy has 100 eyes each with different powers. 

What do you mean he doesn’t start a food fight?

Aoi wanted to scream at his parents.

But you were practically beaming like an angel.

Gaku

“Thou hast brought the most surprising news. I mean, wow.”

Congratulations, you broke him and made Gaku revert to Elizabethan language in sheer shock. 

I nearly made Yura do the opposite of his speech style as well but then I realized his listed occupation is a hermit and he still doesn’t understand some figures of speech so...

But he and Yura are determined to treat you right.

This man becomes your literal arsenal.

Builds tiny gadgets that go well with your new traits. 

Need armour for your wings? He’s got you.

Suddenly your horns made an appearance when a cute guy said your hair looks nice? Not only does he cover it with a hat, but the hat also produces a punching glove!

A salty boy has enough salt to summon you honestly.

Sure, he’s still brusque and curt as ever but he figures you can take it. 

You literally developed new skin in a sense. Like, wow, you didn’t even get scratched by that saw. 

In the first place though, what the heck were you doing getting injured by a saw?

Some things don’t change. Like him patiently waiting for you to come around.

Or else he would sick Nachi on you.

Epilogue

Really, if I had to summarize their actions?  They love you still.

They always say that demons are the least pure of all beings. 

But the romance has always been simple and plain with not much to ask for. 

And you’d be fine.

[spongeguyandlelouchvibridankia]

The Milo Murphy’s Law Wiki Guy AU: Balthazar Cavendish Vs The World: Chapter 5: Act 1: The Circles That You Find

SPACE (THAT’S IN SPACE!)

  Cavendish’s scream continued, and he suddenly noticed his surroundings.

 Gasping, he shook his fists in the air, eyes darting around in hysteria. “WEIRD CHILDREN! TAKE ME BACK THIS INSTANT!”

 But there was no answer. Clearly, they would keep him here until he figured things out.

 Or died. Whichever came first.

 “Knowing my luck…”, Cavendish muttered, frustrated with his day so far.

 He just wanted to eat a freakin’ donut!

 Talk about upsetting the natural order or something!

 Cavendish blinked, trying to adjust to the light, but there was no light…

 Except from within.

 …Literally. Apparently someone had installed a bug zapper inside of his chest.

 “Odd.”, Cavendish thought, but at the same time, this was somehow one of the less weird things to happen so far.

 Almost mechanically, as if he somehow knew how to do it before, Cavendish fetched a key that was hanging by a necklace from his throat and he opened his chest to remove the zapper.

 A simple task, really.

 But only Balthazar Cavendish would accidentally take out his heart instead of a zapper.

 Panicking, Cavendish tried to put it back in but his chest was suddenly locked, and the key was floating in space.

 “Been a while, Balthy.”, The heart greeted, and Cavendish yelped again.

 “HEARTS CAN’T TALK!”, he screamed at it.

 …

 “Then again, this has been one of those days…”, he observed thoughtfully.

 “The key, dude.”, His heart pointed out, and Cavendish began swimming after it, though not without scolding it for reminding him.

 “I know it’s floating away! I have a brain!”

 “But not a heart.”

 Cavendish rolled his eyes and swam after the key, not noticing the beautiful and awe inspiring constellations that flew past, not noticing the majestic planets and mysterious, mystical moons.

 How could he notice them?

 He had far more important things to do.

 He always did.

 After what felt like an eternity but was really just 2 minutes, Cavendish finally caught the key.

 “Ha ha!”, he laughed jubilantly, twirling it in the air, before grasping it tight.

 Eyes closed in pride, he boasted to his cardiac muscle. “Take that, heart!”

 But his heart was gone.

 Panicking again, Cavendish began pounding the inexistent walls.

 “Can anyone answer me? Do I need a heart in this… Whatever this is or not?”

 A door shaped door (writing! It be easy!) opened in one of the areas of space before him, and a new face with a familiar voice (Casey, if Cavendish’s brain was right, which it always was. Take that Mr. Tonsilitis of 2nd grade advanced napping!) popped out.

 This face, round, clearly belonging to a heavy set built boy, smiled cheerfully as he delivered the news.

 “You always need a heart, Cavendish. But to make this example work, you don’t need it with you.”

 Cavendish nodded, pleased with the explanation. “All right! Thank you, Casey!”

 “You’re welcome!”, Casey replied, and he shut the door.

 Cavendish, then, realizing he’d just wasted his chance to escape this mad place, screamed and frantically swam to where the door had been, slamming his fists on nothing.

 “Wait! Let me out! Please! I’d rather not find out! This place is cold and scary and lifeless!”

 The door opened again suddenly, this time by Chelsea, another old voice with a strange face. Light was emanating from where she was standing, light so bright that it nearly blinded Cavendish now that he was up close.

 “Well, considering you’re Cavendish, this should be very familiar for you!”

 As the door began to shut, Cavendish protested this injustice. “You naughty child! Let me in!”

 Trying to stop the door, Cavendish inserted his hand to block its path, but all that did was let the door smash his hand, making him squeal with pain.

 “JESUS CHRIST!”, he yelled, sucking his entire hand to relieve the hurt appendage.

 “…How did I do that?”, he wondered, as he kept floating in space, completely and utterly alone.

 For a moment,, Cavendish wondered if he really was alone.

 If he had been tricked and was now spending eternity in an endless cavern of darkness and solitude.

 And rather that was any different than the last 45 years.

 But Cavendish wasn’t alone.

 “Balthazar Cavendish…”, a voice echoed and echoed from everywhere and nowhere.

 Cavendish’s ears perked and he tried his best to hear the message.

 Was someone trying to save him?

 “Yes, it is I! Balthazar T. Cavendish! Are you here to resc…”

 But his hopes were dashed by the invisible voice.

 “You say you want to know how it all went wrong.”

 Cavendish pouted and scoffed. “What I want is my terrible life back! Why can’t I suffer in silence like a normal adult?”

 Hearing his words, he sighed, resigned to his fate. “Yes. Yes I do want to know.”

 “Excellent!”, the voice rang out loud, and suddenly, just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared, replaced with…

 “…A butterfly?”, Cavendish questioned out loud, not that anyone was there to…

 “Yes, a butterfly.”, the voice replied.

 Oh, right, never mind. I forgot about them.

And as sure as the two people present said, a butterfly was there, flapping its tiny wings in slow motion, not a care in the world.

 Cavendish observed the insect with a curious glance. It was definitely odd for a butterfly: On its antennae were indendtical green top hats with goggles strapped on, just like his.

 Its wings flapped incredibly slowly, almost at a standstill in the vaccum of space.

 And most perculiar of all, was its color: Half the butterfly was painted grey as grey can be, but its other half was rainbow colored, so bright the colors were that they nearly illuminated Cavendish’s face.

 It was definitely a sight to behold.

 And for a while, it was all Cavendish did; he beheld the sight for a few minutes, or hours, or days, or years. He wasn’t sure. Time moved in a very funny way here.

 After what must have been an eternity, the voice returned.

 “If you want to find out… You must go back to the beginning. You must go through the passage of time… And find out who are you, deep down.”

 Cavendish was so distracted he didn’t really listen.

 An urge had been building up now for a while, and, carefully, he edged a finger towards the butterfly.

 You see, there was suddenly a new feature on the butterfly, one that as soon as it had appeared, had caught Cavendish’s eye: A button.

 Two, to be precise.

 The first stated one word: “Emotional.”

 The second also went for short and sweet and to the point: “Emotionless.”

 “Well, if the test is to help the butterfly, I clearly need to press the second button.”, Cavendish thought, relieved that all he had to do was press a button.

 This was almost too easy!

 “Just a push of a button and I’ll be back in no time!”, he thought, and as he finished that thought, he pressed the button in front of him.

 Of course, this set up a butterfly effect and he got blasted backwards onto Earth.

 “AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHH!”, he let out a blood curdling scream as he began to set on fire, the atmosphere cooking him like he was a meal to be had, a Balthazar Cavendish goulash.

 “…Why does that sound sort of delicious?”, Cavendish wondered as he crashed down onto…

 “…Snow?!”

 Yes, snow!

 The white fluffy powder that so often covered the world with an oddly comforting blanket was now all over the place, getting into Cavendish’s clothes and inside his nose.

 Sneezing, he stood up and shook it off his fingers, confused and annoyed by this new location.

 “Why the hell am I here?”, he thought, an odd case of déjà vu suddenly striking him.

 “…And why do I feel like I’ve been here before?”, he noted, looking left to right, but seeing only snow.

 Suddenly, he was struck by two snowballs right in the kisser, and he fell onto the ground, hurting himself.

 “Ow! Who threw that?”, Cavendish yelled out in frustration, and wanting vengeance, he scooped up two balls of his own, searching for the culprit.

 But before he could exact his revenge, the two balls sang.

 Cherlyn:

Like A Snowball…

Cheryl:

Down A Mountain…

 “Of course…”, Cavendish muttered, more tired than angry, and he looked around, trying to understand why he had been brought here.

 The explanation came soon enough: High up above him, there was a mountain top.

 And on that top were Cavendish and Dakota.

 Er, well, Dakota and him, he guessed.

 And if their winter coats and ski equipment were anything to go by, then they were clearly skiing.

 “Redundant, much?”, he told himself, and he leaned on a tree, observing the event that was to befall, wondering why he was whisked here of all places.

 “Here I go! Wheeeeeee…”, Skiing Cavendish exclaimed with glee, only to suddenly crash down the mountain, shattering every bone in his body.

 Our Cavendish was horrified from the carnage, and scared for himself: The falling Cavendish was nearing him!

 Looking for somewhere to hide, Cavendish went behind the tree, and cowered in fright, his eyes shut tight.

 After a few moments the screaming stopped, and Cavendish started feeling a little safer. “I guess it’s over now…”, he thought, but when he opened his eyes.

 “IN THE NAME OF ALL WHICH IS MARK RUFFALO!”

 Sitting silently in Cavendish’s hands, the color already draining from its cheeks, was Cavendish’s head, which had been decapitated by one of the passing branches.

 Cavendish’s heart stopped and he bated his breath as he slowly touched the hair on top of the head.

 “…Oh my god…”, he whispered, shocked at what he had just seen…

 Only for an odd feeling to pass through him.

 He couldn’t put his finger on it at first, but he could definitely put his legs on it, as he found himself…

 Moving backwards!

 [Biteszadusto!]

 Cavendish kept reliving the past few moments until he found himself leaning on the tree again, the fresh trauma of seeing himself die still in the forefront of his mind.

 “What happened?”, he asked, but the answer came from an unexpected source: Himself.

 “Here I go!”, Skiing Cavendish exclaimed again, but this time, Skiing Dakota made sure that Cavendish took the amateur lane.

 Our Cavendish, however, was not amused. “What nonsense! Of course I could take the expert course! What would happen, would I die?”

 Suddenly realizing that that was exactly what happened, Cavendish found himself asking another question: “Why the heck am I being shown this? I know that Dakota saved my life multiple times! What is the point of all of this?”

 As if to answer him, the tree he was leaning on suddenly pushed him, making Cavendish roll down the mountain in breathtaking speed.

 “I… SHOULDN’T… HAVE… ASKED!”, Cavendish screamed between breaths as he smashed against rocks and trees and snow.

 Finally, he began to sail off the mountain, and his destination was the ground.

 “AAAAGHHHHHH!”, he shrieked in terror, grasping in the air, looking for something to hoist him up from his sure doom.

 Suddenly, his hand grasped something: A string.

 “A ha!”, he exclaimed, and his eyes spotted the balloon that belonged to the string.

 Clinging on tight, he began to float away from the abyss, sighing in relief.

 “Well, glad that’s over…”, he said, looking at the balloon.

 Of course, it had two faces. Why wouldn’t it?

 “Let me guess, you sing too.”, he said, and, as to be expected…

 Dave Wong:

Or A Carnival…

Ed:

Balloon…

 Cavendish looked down with a dry expression, and sure enough, Lard World was beneath him.

 As he looked up, though, the wrong thing was at the center of his mind, as per usual.

“…Carnival Balloon and Lard World is sort of a stretch, no? It’s an amusement park.”

 The Balloon then, of course, dropped him for being such a pedant, and Cavendish found himself crashing down to the ground.

 “I CAN’T SHATTER MY LEGS! THEY’RE VERY USEFUL!”, Cavendish cried, hoping some random diety he didn’t believe in would rescue him from certain doom.

 And, apparently, someone was listening, since instead of crashing down Cavendish suddenly started floating softly to the bottom, where he landed daintly.

 After breathing a huge sigh of relief, he immediately began to complain about Dave Wong and Ed.

 “The nerve of those children! Can’t they take some constructive criticism? We could all use some… Except for me, of course.”, Cavendish declared, ignoring the intense irony in the sentence.

 Having finished his mini-rant, Cavendish began to observe his surroundings, his eyes searching for the next “pleasant” surprise.

 “I wonder what I even did here. I honestly can’t remember dying here.”

 He sighed. “Well, that was a dark thought.”

 Finally, he spotted himself and Dakota working on protecting a Pistachio stand, Dakota fooling around with a thermon (“Typical Dakota”, Cavendish noted with a frustrated sniff) and he doing all the work, of course.

 Dave Wong and Ed suddenly appeared as Cavendish turned to them to complain.

 “Just a moment!”, Cavendish began to complain, looking indignant and insulted. “I see no wrongdoing on my part! Dakota’s messing around as ever and I’m doing all the work!”

 He laughed mockingly, literally and figureatively looking down at them. “The boys back in HQ got the wrong tape, huh?”

 Ignoring Cavendish’s smug and haughty look, Dave Wong pointed back at the scene, which had turned into Cavendish criticizing and ordering Dakota around. “Uh, dude, like, you treat him like trash, don’t you see?”

 Cavendish began to look down in shame, wondering if it was true, as Dave Wong continued to give examples. “Just today, you ended up blaming it all on him, you refused to let him cheer you or himself up AND you ordered him around all the time.”

 “Well, he was messing about with random musical instruments!”, Cavendish interjected, desperately trying to defend himself.

 He had to be right! He had to! Just once could someone say that?!

 “But you’re partners. Partners don’t order each other around, dude.”, Dave Wong retorted.

 “Well, listen to me, dude!”, Cavendish responded, prodding Dave’s nose. “Adult relationships are complex! Besides, I was more experienced than him! He’s supposed to listen to me at all times!”

 Ed, who had been standing silently and listening the entire time, suddenly removed a dictionary from thin air, pointing at the definition for partners.

 Cavendish, who read it in super speed, scoffed, knowing he was defeated but still frantically trying to escape the hole he had dug for himself. “Well, you see… It’s just… It’s not exactly… Er… Uh… Um… Dur…”

 Stuttering and stumbling over his words, he finally began to concede defeat to a now victorious Dave Wong and Ed. “Well… You’re not…”

 He mumbled the words. “100% wrong…”

 And for a moment, Cavendish really did feel bad for what he had done.

 The look of judgment and unwarranted anger on his face while he vented to Dakota really felt just…

 Wrong.

 But of course, Cavendish immediately reverted to type. “Well, whatever! Just give me a different example!”

 And he crossed his arms, pouting like a child who had been told he can’t have a pacifier AND tickets to The Human Centipede.

 “Sure thing, dude.”, Dave Wong aquieced and he pointed up to the sky.

 “Look up.”

 Cavendish did as he was told, but not before sticking his tongue out in defiance.

 Dave sighed. This was one of the harder cases he had had to solve in his short life as a delusion in Cavendish’s mind.

 “Now, do please turn your back to me.”

 “Easy peasey.”, Cavendish remarked and he did so, his coat tails blowing in the wind for a moment before settling down.

 Cavendish twitched his moustache and tapped his foot impatiently. “Well? Where to next in my trail of miserable character defects? I have a life to fuck up, you know.”

 “Almost. Just move over to the left.”, Dave Wong directed, and Cavendish took two steps.

 “No, wait, a little to the right.”

 “Here?”, Cavendish asked after shimming a bit.

 “Almost. Half a step forwards.”

 Cavendish complied with the instruction.

 “Here’s good?”, Cavendish asked, genuinely hoping it was.

 “Excellent! Now stand still!”, Dave said, and he readied his foot.

 “Well, whatever you say! What’s supposed to hap…”

 THWACK!

 Dave Wong let his foot fly and Cavendish got kicked in the behind all the way up to space, screaming in pain as his lips flapped and his eyes bulged.

 “…PEN!!!!!!!!!!!!”, Cavendish screamed, as he once again returned to the inky black backdrop of space.

 As he flew upwards, he could see the Moon approaching, its white crater filled surface shining bright, a beacon in the darkness.

 But not for Cavendish, who flew so fast he actually flew past it.

 “…Whoops! Sorry!”, a voice cried, and Cavendish was pulled back into the Moon’s gravitational pull.

 Orbiting the orbiter of the Earth, Cavendish huffed, tired of this day, this life, this reality.

 Tapping his foot (…Somehow), Cavendish looked at his wrist, despite it not having a watch and he tutted impatiently.

 “Well? No song lyrics that make no sense? No terrible memories to illicit feelings of guilt in me? No physical violence imparted on my being? It’s almost like you’re giving me a break.”, Cavendish complained.

 “Ask and ye shall receive!”, Emery and Erika, the new voices, chirped cheerfully, and BOOM! Cavendish was now seated inside a carousel ride that was…

 Well, I’ll let the singers say it.

 Emery:

Like A Carousel…

Erika:

That’s Turning…

Geoffrey:

Running Rings…

Gevork:

Around The Moon…

 “When did those two show up? I was just getting used to Emery and Erika!”, Cavendish protested, only to be belted in tight, his waist getting squeezed so tight he could barely wheeze.

 Suddenly realizing what the lyrics might mean, Cavendish looked up in fright at his conductors, Geoffrey and Gevork, who smiled a little too brightly as they leaned on a lever.

 “…What was that part about running rings around the moon?”, Cavendish asked worriedly, crouching in his seat, his index finger shaking in fright up in the air.

 Geoffrey and Gevork didn’t answer.

 They didn’t really need to, to be honest.

 The lever was pulled and Cavendish’s lips flapped again as he ran rings around the…

 “WE GET IT!”, Cavendish screamed as he ran around and around and around, like a record baby, round and round.

 Finally, after 777 spins, Cavendish, whose face was even greener than his hat and waistcoat, grasped at his mouth, feeling a puke coming up.

 Swallowing the vomit with much effort, Cavendish let out a yelp of terror. “Am I really going to go down as the first person to throw up on the moon?”

 “Nope, but you are the first person to die on the moon!”, Geoffrey pointed out.

 Gevork nodded, a little too enthusiastically, which Cavendish noticed.

 “Is he… Is he supposed to smile like that about my death?”, Cavendish asked, alarmed.

 Geoffrey stopped smiling and leaned in to whisper in Cavendish’s ear. “We’re all worried about him, but right now, let’s focus on you, ok?”

 While Gevork chuckled menacingly, Cavendish looked down to see himself on the moon, from a few years back.

 For some reason, he had forgotten his helmet (“A rare mistake on my part”, thought Cavendish), and sure enough…

 POP!

 Moon Cavendish’s head burst like a balloon, and a bit of the skin stuck itself onto Cavendish, who shrieked in fright and disgust.

 “GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!”

 Suddenly, realizing that he was being watched, he cleared his throat and removed it from his person. “Ahem. I mean, oh no. A problem that is so easily solvable by the fact that I am a man who can easily tackle any challenge.”

 He smiled smugly, and Geoffrey and Gevork face palmed.

 “Man, that is not the point! Look down, please!”, they ordered, pointing down at the moon’s surface.

 “Oh, fine, fine, I’ll look!”, Cavendish begrudgingly obliged, and he resumed his attention at the rescue of his life by Dakota.

 He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “What was the point of this flashback? Sure, he saved me, but I know that already.”

 Geoffrey and Gevork were stunned into silence, barely able to muster a sentence for a few moments.

 Finally, Gevork spat it out. “Cavendish, are you serious? He saved your life!”

 “And that is amazing, but it was only a few times! The way you talk about it, you make it sound like he did it every day or something!”, Cavendish complained.

 Geoffrey and Gevork suddenly turned into a microwave that beeped and booped, until the number 2220 flashed on its screen in neon purple.

 “Oh, you have got to be kidding!”, Cavendish complained, rolling his eyes. “There is no way in hell that I died that many times!”

 As if to answer his question, the microwave’s screen suddenly began to enlarge and expand, quickly turning into a widescreen movie theatre screen.

 Cavendish’s eyes widened, allowing him to notice the other changes: The space around him had turned into a dark auditorium, the sticky floor of the carousel replaced with an even sticker cinema floor, and the wooden horses before and after him now replaced with a plethora of cheap seats that weren’t comfortable, yet somehow also were.

 Suddenly, in an instant, he was moved to the front seats, finding two young girls, Grace and Haley, seated to his right.

 “Oh, greetings!”, he said, with a tip of his hat, and suddenly he found a tub of buttery popcorn on his lap, its alluring scent wafting up to his nose, tickling it.

 He let out a warm chuckle. “Well, I must admit, this is more like it!”

 He popped in a modest portion into his mouth and chewed it down as a commercial played.

 “Oh, no! My love life is an absolute nightmare! If only my boyfriend was more attentive!”, a brown haired 1950’s housewife type with a black and white face and soul greeted the screen.

 “If only I had…”, she began to wish, when a puff of smoke rose in the air!

 Suddenly, teleporting in her spotless kitchen, it’s…

 “NORM!”, Norm, the famous Doofenshmirtz robot greeted the viewers with a wave and a monotone smile that never wavered.

 “Oh, yes! My ex! He’s much better!”

 “Norm, the robot that replaced your current beau! Comes when you least expect it!”, the announcer said.

 Cavendish scowled, as did Grace and Haley.

 “They always put the worst commercials before movies these days…”, Cavendish remarked, earning nods from the girls next to him.

 “Start the movie already!”, Cavendish shouted, throwing some popcorn at the screen.

 Finally, the projector began to transmit a picture.

 “Huzzah! The show is about to begin!”, Cavendish announced in glee, and he scarfed down some more popcorn.

 However, he soon wished he’d be back with the commercials.

 Playing in front of him, in gruesome and intense detail, was every single death he had ever gone through.

 All 2220 played in eye popping 3-D (which was weird, seeing as Cavendish didn’t have 3-D glasses), and each one made Cavendish jump or flinch or instinctively place a hand on the damaged body part displayed on the screen.

 And of course, every single time, Dakota had saved him.

 For Cavendish, it was eye opening, and not just because of the quantity (that really was 2220 times).

 Through every decapitation, through every explosion, through every bone shattering, organ combusting brain splitting cow milk induced death, two constants were present:

 “I am really accident prone.”, a confession that Cavendish would never have made before, so that was a step forwards!

 And…

 “…Dakota really saved me every time…”

 One could hear the mixture of shock and awe in his voice as he uttered the words, the projector screen light reflecting off of his single tear in the dark.

 For a moment, it was just him and Dakota, as the man he adored said “It’s Cavendish: What are you gonna do?”

 Cavendish let the words echo in his mind as he stared down at his hands: Weak, clammy, pathetic.

 “Not a man’s hands…”, his Father broadcast in his mind.

 “Dakota… Dakota really did save me every time.”

 It wasn’t that he didn’t believe that Dakota could: It was just so…

 Enlightening.

 “Dakota always wanted to save people. This job was his only way.”

 By now, Grace and Hailey were listening attentively, looking encouraged, as the credits rolled.

 Cavendish let out a sigh, his sights still set on his hands.

 “And he was willing to lose that, to lose the one thing that made him feel like a somebody…”

 He whispered the final two words, feeling a pang of pain in his chest.

 “…For me…”

 The thousands of deaths crossed his mind, each one painful, but not as much as Dakota risking it all, sacrificing it all for him.

 And what did he give him in return?

 One measly thank you.

 Just one.

 Dakota had given him life…

 And all Cavendish had done was steal his.

 Suddenly, he felt very cold.

 He felt…

 Ungrateful.

 It felt…

 Unearned.

 He looked hard at his hands, as they shook and clenched, his nails digging into his palms, scratching the weak flesh.

 What had once seemed so perfect, now felt…

 Lacking.

 “…Could I ever do that? Could I ever do that for him?”, he asked no one, his voice empty and lonely.

 A moment of realization passed him, a moment of self awareness.

 He wouldn’t be here now, having a mental breakdown in the middle of nowhere with two stranger pre-teens, if it wasn’t for Dakota.

 He sighed morosely, honesty for once appearing on his face.

 “Am I really such a jerk?”

 Suddenly, as the final credits rolled, a post credits scene began playing.

 Cavendish looked up, but with not much interest, his concionsce still plaguing him.

 How could he have taken something like that for granted?

 Was he right or wrong in his conduct with his partner?

 With life?

 For a moment…

 Cavendish wasn’t sure.

 Meanwhile, numbers flashed on the screen, grabbing his attention away from his self loathing.

 3…

 2…

 1…

 “A countdown? I must say, that’s a little…”, Cavendish started complaining, but Cavendish couldn’t finish his criticism: His seat ejected him and he was bombarded towards the Earth.

 “TRIIIIPPPEEEEE!”, he yelled out, but his nitpick was drowned out by Grace and Hailey singing the next two lyrics.

 Grace:

Like A Clock…

Hailey:

Whose Hands Are Sweeping…

 And as he continued to fall, two skydivers joined him: Harrison and Jamal.

 Harrison:

Past The Minutes…

Jamal:

Of Its Face…

 As he kept cascading down and down towards his home planet, Cavendish, despite his moment of clarity, couldn’t help but grumble.

 “Am I just going to be flung from place to place all day?”

 Finishing the sentence, he got to be flung to something that wasn’t a place: A giant wall clock.

 As he collided with the humongous clock’s face, Cavendish averted his face and eyes, bracing for impact.

 Instead, something altogether different happened: The clock didn’t break.

 And after a moment’s inspection, Cavendish saw that he didn’t break either!

 “A ha! In your face, physics! Even your rigid laws can’t face up to the mighty Balthazar Caven…”

 But Cavendish would not finish his boasting.

 In fact, he’d once again scream the end of a sentence whilst flying in space, because Cavendish didn’t break the clock…

 He just stretched it.

 Yes, Cavendish was so busy elevating himself to a pedestal that he hadn’t bothered to notice that he was slowly stretching the clock and its face, as if it was a slingshot, with him as the projectile.

 And by now, he’d have stretched it enough to be sent soaring once more.

 Realizing this, Cavendish took one dry glance at the screen.

 “Mama mia…”, he uttered, and “HERE WE GO AGAIN!” was harmonized as Cavendish was shot back in super speed, breaking through a long row of floating wall clocks, each shatter making a tick or tock sound, each break changing the time around him until…

 FLASH!

 Opening his eyes from the brightness, Cavendish could just about see a black and white photograph with smudged corners, slowly enveloping his line of sight.

 All he could see was the photograph, which depicted him and Dakota once again.

 But this time, it wasn’t just Dakota being mistreated.

 It was also Milo.

 Jemma:

And The World…

Jim (Student):

Is Like An Apple…

Karo:

Whirling Silently…

Kris (Not Ours):

In Space…

 FLASH! After FLASH! Occurred as Cavendish was forced to relive some of his worst moments, as he was forced to see himself deduce that a 13 year old boy was an enemy spy preventing him from being happy, to see himself try and arrest said boy who was busy doing kinds acts, to see himself go after aliens with no experience or hope of success, leave Dakota to suffer alone and end up being frozen in space for who knows how long, almost dying and making his closest ones lives worse by every mean…

 And all that, all that pain and suffering and poor decision making…

 Because his stupid little ego was hurt.

 Cavendish could barely stand to see and he averted his gaze, choosing instead to fixate his attention at a constellation that looked like a pro wrestler bear named Ursa Major Pain.

 Had he really done all that just because he needed to feel important?

 Had he really done all that because he couldn’t stand the thought of being…

 Not good enough?

 Was he really that selfish?

 Cavendish had nearly lost it all, and had nearly ruined Dakota’s life, all because he wanted to feel important.

 Well, one thing was for sure: He didn’t feel very important now.

 Suddenly, Cavendish stopped flying, and he was caught by a colossal baseball glove, the catcher on the 1st base being Logan.

 The rest of the bases were filled with Mabel (now with a drum), Maddie and Malee Muns, who all held humungous gloves of their own.

 A bead of sweat trickled down Cavendish’s brow as these four continued the song:

 Logan:

Like The Circles…

Mabel:

That You Find…

Maddie:

In The Windmills…

Malee Muns:

Of Your Mind…

 “Well, Cavendish? Do you get it now?”, Logan asked hopefully, and 3 voices harmonized in a very creepy and monotone way.

 “Yes, Cavendish… Do you get it now?...”

 Cavendish looked down in shame at first.

 Had he really been so selfish, so stuck up, so obsessed with being perfect, that he had done all that?

 Had he really never thanked Dakota properly?

 Had he really treated him like trash?

 Had he really been so egotistical that he would go as far as to blame a 13 year old boy for his own mistakes?

 All these things felt like too much, the potential failure scared Cavendish. It was like a weight to bare that Cavendish just couldn’t muster the strength for.

 So instead, he didn’t muster the strength…

 And he went for the route that saved his face.

 Unfortunately, he was still all too concerned with looking good.

 Unfortunately, Cavendish still couldn’t face the facts and see that he was wrong.

 “No!”, he shouted suddenly, startling the four kids on the celestial Baseball diamond.

 Cavendish glared with fierce intensity, trying his hardest to defend himself, to make himself feel less crap.

 “I did nothing wrong! Dakota is a screw up and the aliens had to be stopped! Milo could have been a spy! And I did thank Dakota! One thank you is enough!”

 Cavendish didn’t really believe any of that…

 But he just had to!

 He had to be better than this!

 …Right?

 “Cavendish, you know that that’s not…”

 But Cavendish would not heed Logan’s words.

 “I AM GOOD ENOUGH! MORE THAN THAT, I AM PERFECT! IT’S THE WORLD THAT IS WRONG, NOT ME!”

 The screams may have been intended to be “masculine”, but the hot tears that streamed down his face were definitely not part of the intended model, his red cheeks and puffy eyes betraying an all together different picture than intended.

 “I… I am not wrong! I… I can’t be!”, Cavendish cried, and Logan and the girls shook their heads at each other.

 “He’s still in too deep.”, Logan declared.

 “…Then maybe it’s time for a different approach. A more personal one.”, Mable offered thoughtfully, and she grabbed Cavendish from Logan’s hand, letting the grown man squirm in her palm.

 “Let me go! You can’t convince me! You never will!”

 “Oh, that’s ok, Cavendish!”, Mabel reassured. “We won’t convince you!”

 Cavendish took a moment to digest this new information, surprised by the speediness of that surrender, and a satisfied grin appeared on his face.

 “Well, now! Finally, some common sense!”

 Mabel smiled too, before lifting a pair of cymbals, their glint catching Cavendish’s eyes, as he began to float in open space again.

 “You’ll convince yourself!”

 And with those words said, a resounding CRASH! Could be heard as Cavendish began to literally fold into himself, body parts twisted and turned and shaped until he was…

 “An Origami Swan! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, the enthusiastic cries of children could be heard echoing in the distance.

 Cavendish got refolded, now resembling…

 “Stewart Lee Udall, the 37th Secretary of The Interior, serving between 1961-1969! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, the children cried in manic joy.

 “…I don’t get it…”, Cavendish commented, sort of. His voice was muffled thanks to all the folds.

 And then his voice disappeared completely, since he got folded into himself so much that he disappeared into himself.

 “Metaphorical symbolism for self introspection through literal presentation! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, the kids roared in approval.

 Meanwhile, in the morally grey depths of his soul, sinking into himself, Cavendish found himself in a pool of time, swirling down the drain into his beginnings.

 As the murky waters slurped him up like a red white striped straw, Cavendish could just catch faint chanting with his ears.

 Somewhere, far away in the distance, the monotone voices of children exclaimed over and over “!euglorp sit sap s’tahW” “!euglorp sit sap s’tahW” “!euglorp sit sap s’tahW”, over and over, echoing in Cavendish’s mind like a thundercrash.

 And then he found himself underneath the earth’s surface.

[asterinjapan]

At last I see the (sun) light

Good – morning this time!

Yeah, as predicted, yesterday ran very late, so I decided to leave writing my report for the next day and just go to bed already, haha. I’m starting my report in the morning while I’m trying to think of plans for today, so I might just drop the report and finish it later, but here we go – Tokyo Disneyland!

Pictures will be up later today!

It’s definitely not my first time to Tokyo Disneyland, although usually I take the subway to get there. Since I have my JR pass still active and I haven’t been using it much in Tokyo, I refused to take a mode of transportation I had to pay for, so I first went to Tokyo station with the Yamanote line. From there, it’s 15 minutes with the Keiyo line, but that’s all the way at the other end at the station, so you can seriously add another 15 minutes to the travel time. I wasn’t exaggerating when I called Tokyo station a separate city!

The Yamanote line came to an abrupt halt halfway through as the emergency brake had been activated, but it must be a false alarm or otherwise easily solved issue, as we continued a couple of minutes later. It was indeed quite the walk to the Keiyo line, but they put up signs every five steps, so at least it was a very easy road to follow.

And then Maihama station! The weather had turned out to be incredibly nice today, with blue skies so bright I could easily see the Skytree and – was that the snowy top of Mount Fuji? It sure was! That’s how clear the skies were, haha.

Anyway, the walk from the station was a bit different. I know they’re working on a new area inside the park, but apparently they’re also doing extensive redevelopments, because the main entrance was under covers and there were cranes surrounding the castle. After the entrance, the first Halloween decorations came in sight, and part of the fun: watching everyone’s costumes! It’s only during Halloween season that you’re allowed to dress up in Tokyo Disneyland as an adult, and lots of people make use of that opportunity. Some costumes are so good I had to blink and stare to realize they were not the official cast members (which is, incidentally, why it’s not allowed to dress up the rest of the year – you might confuse the kids). Also, it makes for fun situations, like Alice standing in line for lunch with the Queen of Hearts or Belle posing with the park version of Gaston while 5 other princesses watch with interest, haha.

I was inside a little after opening, so I lingered around to wait for the first parade: the Spooky Boo Halloween parade! It’s held twice over the day and thus a short one, but I love Halloween, so I was curious to see what they’d pulled. The parade mostly features the best known characters: Mickey and his friends. They taught us a dance and halfway through, the parade came to a halt for a dance performance. The dancing cast members had gorgeous costumes! They were really into it too, so that was a joy to watch, and I’m kinda sad I couldn’t get a good full view of them on my camera from where I was standing to show you guys, only glimpses in between people’s heads.

I was in for something sweet now, so I wandered into Fantasyland for what I thought was a churro, but ended up being a tipo torta, which – I’m not entirely sure what it is, but it was delicious! I got it in purple sweet potato flavor, because I felt obliged after Okinawa haha, and purple is a Halloween color here, so the sweet potato from Okinawa gets used liberally this time of the year.

I had chosen the Haunted Mansion as my appropriate first ride of today, because duh, Halloween. The wait was 40 minutes when I joined, which was okay if it weren’t for the hot sun, so I was glad to make it inside for the Nightmare before Christmas version of this ride. I really love it a lot – I think it was summer 2017 that I last saw the ride in its original form, oops.

After that, I went back inside again for another favorite ride: Mickey’s Philharmagic Orchestra. There was a small wait here, and a ton of kids who got really into the screening (it’s 4D, so the 3D effects are heavy and you get sprayed with water and scented air in between), so that was kinda cute, haha. They were all making grabby hands at the apple pie and Ariel’s gems.

Once outside, I stumbled upon some character meet and greets in Fantasyland, and then right into the Dreaming Up parade. It’s a lovely one, but I’ve seen it twice now fairly recently, so I wasn’t going to wait on the floor for it. Didn’t have to! I got an okay spot for the visually most impressive floats, so that was a nice little coincidence, haha.

Next up was Pirates of the Caribbean, which I love, but the drop is the scariest thing I do in Disneyland, so I wasn’t super pleased about being put in the front row, haha. I lived, but it took a while for my pulse to calm down. (I’m big on the thrill rides, you can tell.) It’s still super fun, and outside was a band of pirates playing! I think they were kind of trying to spread the crowds today, as it was probably a bit busier than initially expected due to the weather and a couple of rides that tend to draw crowds were closed for today.

After some lunch, wandering around for the views and some window shopping, I settled down next to Snow White’s wishing well to wait for round two of the Spooky Boo parade. About ten Snow Whites and other princesses showed up to take pictures by the well, haha. Sadly, the parade only made a quick round here without dancing in between, but I did get much better shots of the floats now!

And it wasn’t that bad, because I had wisely gotten a fast pass for Haunted Mansion at the same time as the parade, so now I didn’t have to rush as the parade was over quite quickly. I didn’t see the Haunted Mansion wait go down to under my 40 minutes anymore, so that fast pass had been a good call. (I think they’re connected to your ticket now, because I had to scan my entrance ticket and not the fast pass receipt to get in line.)

After that, the iconic ride: It’s a Small World! It’s still fun, and I think I’m mostly past my trauma over the song now, haha. I couldn’t help wanting to take pictures here and there, even though I have a ton already. Spotting the recently added Disney characters is quite fun.

It was getting dark quickly now, and I noticed I was getting a bit bumped out. I kept getting lost in the dark and with the covered parts of the park, so I eventually told myself to just get something sweet and then decide whether I was going to call it an uncharacteristically early day.

As it turned out I just needed food, haha. A hot dog for lunch wasn’t sufficient to get me through the complete afternoon, who knew! I got some ice coffee for the caffeine rush (bad, I know, but hey), bought a little gift for a friend, and was just in time to see the electrical parade Dreamlights. This one changed a little a couple of years ago, but overall it’s still the same one as the one I saw in 2010. It’s still fun, even though the song is even catchier than It’s a small world, haha. They added a tiny something that I spotted right away: Alice was riding a giant teacup on top of the Cheshire cat, rather than the cat’s back proper. I was a bit further away this time, so I got some nice shots of the full floats. I eh, have plenty of close-ups from earlier years, haha.

I then finally made the decision to just get the new Tangled popcorn bucket, which is shaped like the floating lantern from the movie with a little Pascal the chameleon to sit on your shoulder on the strap. There’s a light inside, so that makes for lovely sights in the evening, although the amount of popcorn (caramel flavor at this stand) that came with it was – worrying, haha. I did manage to finish it all though, despite not being the biggest popcorn eater, but whoa. (You can get the bucket separately from the popcorn so you won’t have to clean it, but the popcorn separately means you get two cartons of them, since that’s how much can fit into the bucket.)

Newly invigorated, I decided to get back to attractions. I went into the Enchanted Tiki room first as it was nearby and I love the songs and Stitch. It’s very much a kids attraction and I very much don’t care, haha. If anything, the line is non-existent here and you just have to wait for the next performance to begin.

I then found the ball game stand, which I suck at, but that’s okay, because you get to pick a really nice exclusive pin if you lose, so I got the Minnie one, haha. Making my way back to Fantasyland from there, I hopped into Philharmagic again, the line gone and just having to wait for the next performance to start. There’s a merit in staying late, haha. I rushed to Peter Pan next, where the wait was down to 15 minutes. It’s a fun ride, but it’s over so fast that I can’t justify standing in line for 50 minutes for it.

Finally, with ten minutes until park closure to go, I went to Pooh’s Hunny Hunt – and they closed the line after me, oops. Two more ladies came rushing in via the fastpass entrance, but that was it. Pooh’s Hunny Hunt is a fun and unique ride, but since I’m not a big fan of Pooh bear, I refuse to wait for him for 70+ minutes, haha. This worked, even though it was still about 10 minutes. Around park closure! Wow.

There were still surprisingly many people in the park as I made my way to the exit, some even still on the way into the park. I wonder at what time they can actually close the gates… Hopefully the park members work in shifts, yikes.

After a quick last look in the Bon Voyage store just outside the park I made my way to the station, where I had to wait for the next Keiyo line train as this one was… very full. At 10:30 PM. Ah, the Disney magic, haha. (The people from Disneysea also gather at this station.) Thankfully that got me a front row place in line for the next train, so I could sit (!) until the terminal station of Tokyo, where it was another brisk walk to the Yamanote line and finally, back to my hotel.

 So here I am now. I took a shower last night and fell asleep almost right away. Didn’t sleep through my alarm at least, but I did put it on snooze and only got up as late as possible to still eat breakfast at the hotel here, haha.

Today should be a little calmer. I might do some karaoke and find a café I read about opening some months ago, but other than that, I don’t really have plans. Sadly, the weather is getting bad again starting tonight, thanks to yet another typhoon making rounds. It should be gone by the time my return flight is scheduled, though.

Yikes, time flies. It’s Thursday and I’m flying back on Monday! Ack. Sadly I don’t think many of my Tokyo side tips can go through, if any. A bit of a waste of my JR pass, but it’s long since paid itself back and hey, I will still use it for the Narita Express to the airport if nothing else. I don’t want to over-exert myself or put myself into dangerous situations, so I might just stick to Tokyo until the last day (although Saturday should be alright weather wise, at least less rainy, but again, dangerous situations). And hey, I haven’t gone back to just Tokyo on 2 separate trips because I hate it here, haha. Although with all the things I’ve seen around here, I might have to cash in on that extra luggage… After that huge book I found the other day, I’m already nearing my limit, and the cost of overweight luggage is as much as an extra bag at Don Quijote would cost, so uh. I can still think about it until 24 hours before the flight, so that’s what I will do, haha.

Time to head out. Photos coming up soon, see you later!

[katie-dub]

Great British Traditions

Emma Swan is an American student in Nottingham, who's been invited by her friend Killian Jones to spend Boxing Day with him, to see what’s so special about the 26th December.

It was the delightful @distant-rose‘s birthday last Saturday. However I was deep in the throes of celebrating her birthday twin’s special day, my own Tiny Giant. I’m sorry that this is so late dear, I’m not so good with the deadlines. This is intended to be part of a big story, but I think stands alone and I hope it makes you laugh. If you like it, let me know and I’ll get the rest written.

“So … What's Boxing Day all about? Does Mike Tyson come down the chimney to give all the ungrateful girls and boys a punch in the face?”

“He should do, but no, it’s a time for leftovers, family and board games traditionally I gather. But for me, it's all about the football.” Killian scratched behind his ear, before smirking at her. “Proper football that is.”

“What’s soccer -” she emphasised the word just to rile Killian up “- got to do with anything? Shouldn’t you be watching, I don’t know, replays of Muhammad Ali fights?”

“I’m going to ignore your funny little colloquialism, you can’t help being born amongst the savages across the pond after all, and extend to you some proper British hospitality, and ask you to join me for the football. What do you say, Swan? Want to experience a traditional Boxing Day the Jones way?”

And that’s how Emma found herself in a Wetherspoons in Nottingham on 26th December, merry on more than a few pints, surrounded by happy Manchester United fans singing at the top of their lungs. “Glory, gloorrrryy, Man U-niiiiiii-ted!”

“We won!” Killian was weeping openly. “In your face Mourinho, you wanker! It’s like Christmas!”

Emma laughed at him. “Funny you should say that -” She broke off with an undignified, disgruntled squeak of alarm as Killian scooped her up and spun her round.

“I’m so happy I could kiss you!” He said the words in a rush, clearly swept up in a tide of sports-induced euphoria and schadenfreude over the club’s success in the wake of the disgraced former-manager’s recent firing.

That’s when they both realised how close they were to each other.

Killian slowly set her back on her feet, but kept his arms around her. She found herself gazing at his lips, transfixed by how perfect they were. The singing faded in her mind to a dull hum in the background, her ears zeroing in on the sound of Killian’s panting. He sounded wrecked. So did she.

She could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin, the heat of his arms surrounding her, and yet the feel of him so close to her was sending goosebumps across her skin as she shivered in anticipation.

The tension between them was growing, threatening to turn into a monster that would devour them whole. She found that she didn’t much mind the thought if it meant that she could kiss Killian.

Someone knocked into them and sent them flying to the ground. Killian lept to his feet and offered his hand out to help her up. She went to take it, but was distracted by something hovering just above his head.

There was mistletoe above them.

“Everything alright, love?”

Emma shook herself and allowed Killian to help pull her up. “Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just, well there’s mistletoe.”

He looked up then back to her with a grin. “I think a little festive offering is in order,” he said, tapping at his lips with a cheeky swagger.

“Please, you couldn’t handle it.” She dismissed him with a hint of a smile playing at her lips, enjoying the flirting in spite of herself.

He moved closer to her. “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.” She could hear the smirk in his voice, his challenge to her set. And for once, she was ready for it.

She seized him and pulled him close, practically leaping on him in her eagerness to kiss him. He was stunned at first, but it only took him half a second to catch up and throw himself into the kiss with joyful abandon.

He wrapped his arms around her, apparently as desperate as she was to get closer, his hands finding their way under her shirt.

“Get a room!” someone yelled at them breaking the spell they were under.

But Emma wasn’t quite ready to give up the magic yet. “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered decisively into Killian’s ear.

He looked dazed. “Yeah?”

When she nodded he grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together and tugging her towards the exit eagerly. He weaved in and out of pot-bellied football fans with tears in their eyes, giggly and glassy-eyed slightly orange women and furtive teenagers slurping on their bacardi breezers and looking around in glee, thrilled with their own success at getting served.

It took a ridiculously frustrating amount of time to get to the doors of the pub. Killian pushed her up against the door and kissed her roughly and quickly. “Right, taxi, I can’t wait any longer.”

They stumbled their way through the Market Square, past the crowds shrieking “Merry Christmas!” and the merrymakers stumbling away from the garish lights and the discordant music emanating from the fake snow-encrusted Winter Wonderland in the square.

Killian steadily guided her towards a taxi rank, propelling her forward with fierce determination. He sped up a little on seeing that there was only one taxi waiting and a group of revellers was staggering towards it. They reached it first and she heard him mutter a little “ha!” of celebration under his breath.

“108 Portland Road,” he said to the driver, as he opened the door to the black cab and helped Emma in, following her in eagerly. As soon as he had closed the door behind him, he moved for her, capturing her lips in a kiss that quite literally took her breath away.

She pushed back a little to gasp for air and he nibbled along her jaw, making her pant harder. “Don’t you -” he nuzzled behind her ear, then started kissing his way down her neck. “Maybe we should w -” he found that perfect spot on her neck that made her gasp as he sucked it. “Wait?” she asked, entirely losing track of what she’d been trying to say.

“We’re here,” said the bored-sounding driver, louder than seemed entirely necessary. Even if Emma could admit to herself that she likely wouldn’t have heard him without the yelling.

Killian shoved a tenner at him, which Emma was sure was far too much for a five minute ride, if that. “Merry whatever you celebrate mate,” he said, and opened the door, once more finding Emma’s hand and helping her out.

It was Emma’s turn to distract him. As he fumbled about for his keys and tried to unlock the door she wrapped herself around him and pushed her fingers under his shirt, allowing just the tips to brush under his waistband. When he finally got the door open he spun around and gave her a fake glare.

“Bloody hell, you’ll be the death of me, Swan!” he said and pulled them into the house kissing and laughing their way to the stairs.

He tried to walk backwards up the stairs while still kissing her. His foot slipped and he stumbled, so she grabbed onto him and pulled him steady, giggling.

“Are you laughing at me, Swan?” he growled.

“What would you do about it if I -” he swooped her up into his arms. He swayed a little as he got used to her weight, then steadying himself, he carried her determinedly up the stairs.

He made her to the second floor house before he dropped her unceremoniously. “Sorry, love, had an awkward grip on you.”

She laughed out loud this time. “Yeah, yeah, awkward grip. Thanks for trying to spare my feelings, but I know I was too heavy.”

He blushed - right to the pointy tips of his elen ears - and shook his head emphatically. “Don’t impugn my honour, Swan! I’ve carried crates of beer heavier than you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

This time he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder while she shrieked in surprise. They made it up to Killian’s room without further incident, whereupon he threw her onto the bed. And crawled on top of her. Or tried to. She had forgotten that Killian had the world’s smallest bed in a room big enough to fit at least two luxury king size beds in with room to spare. They both shuffled awkwardly, trying to find space on the pathetic waste of space calling itself a bed. Fucking student housing and their cheap ass beds.

It was ruining the moment to the extent that she started to wonder if hooking up with Killian was really such a great idea.

But then looked at her with his smouldering eyes. “Having second thoughts? We don’t have to.” And she wanted to again, she really wanted to.

She pressed her mouth to his, a light kiss, a reassurance. “Nope, I’m still in,” she said, and to prove her point she sat up and pulled her top off. At least, she intended to pull her top off. She actually twisted herself around awkwardly, getting herself somehow caught in the sleeves as she tried to pull it over her head. She tugged hard to free herself and fell backwards onto the floor.

“Are you hurt?” Killian’s voice was muffled by her top currently masquerading as a ski mask. She wriggled a little, finally got it off and looked up to see Killian peering down at her over the edge of his bed.

“I totally meant to do that,” she said, he merely raised an eyebrow in surprise. “It’s my latest party trick. Might need some work.”

She got to her feet and held her hand out to him, he looked confused but took it and allowed her to pull him upright. She planted a kiss on his lips before her brain could catch onto the fact that everything seemed to be telling them that this was not a good plan. She took his hands and guided them to her bra clasp. “I figure it’s safer if you undress me, I seem to have forgotten how.”

He grinned and kissed her again, pulling back just enough to murmur, “I’d be delighted to show you how it’s done.”

He kissed her slow, deep and dizzying as he stripped off her clothes one by one. He trailed kisses down her legs while he eased her out of her trousers setting her nerves alight with every touch of his lips. When she was completely naked he gently guided her to the bed and sat her on the edge of it. He settled on his knees between her legs and just seeing him there sent ripples of excitement and anticipation running through her.

She pounced on him, kissing him with all the force she could muster, desperate to feel him closer to her. “Clothes off, now,” she demanded with a grin.

“Aye aye captain,” he said and began to unbutton his shirt, letting his hands brush against her as he went.

When he was finally naked she pulled him down for another kiss and tried to pull him on top of her, but she was once again thwarted by the minuscule proportions of the bed. They were shuffling uncomfortably, kissing then moving, trying to find space to be together.

“I give up!” Emma announced, “let’s just fuck on the floor.”

Killian let out a snort of laughter, but then his eyes filled with desire and he kissed her hard. “You’re a marvel,” he said sincerely and leapt to his feet. She rolled over towards him, grumbling internally that he seemed to possess more grace when drunk than she did sober.

When she stood up he surprised her by pulling the duvet off the bed and throwing it neatly to the ground instead of kissing her.

“Huh?”

“I don’t fancy carpet burn,” he explained with a shrug, then lay down on the duvet.

Emma immediately climbed on top of him, her body still screaming for his through all of the awkwardness. She pressed herself onto him, kissing him as she shifted her hips into just the right position and for one moment it was completely and utterly perfect. Then they both moved at once. And their foreheads collided with a painful, audible crack.

“Oh fuck!” “Bloody hell”

And Emma started to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the whole situation. She had decided to do something completely absurd and have a one night stand with a good friend and it was a disaster. She was lying on the floor - well, on him - cold as hell and nursing what felt like the beginnings of concussion. Nothing about it was funny to her. But she couldn’t stop laughing. Killian Jones, her friend, was literally inside her and she was in hysterics, struggling to breathe through the waves of laughter that kept bubbling out of her until tears sprang to her eyes and her stomach muscles hurt.

She chanced a glance at Killian and was relieved to see that he was laughing too. She finally recovered enough to move off of him and she immediately felt cold.

He must have seen her shiver because he went over to his drawer and pulled out a jumper and some jogging bottoms and threw them over to her. She turned her back on him to pull the clothes on, which seemed faintly ridiculous, but now that the night was certainly not going to have a happy ending, she felt embarrassed for him to see her naked.

When she turned back around he was dressed too, and a little pink in the cheeks. “I promise, I’m usually good at this,” he said.

“Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

“Speak for yourself! Your moves weren’t all that either!”

She laughed at him. “Can we just pretend that this never happened and never tell the others?”

“Absolutely, you think I want Scarlett knowing that instead of orgasms I gave us both potential concussions? I’d never live it down.”

“Right. Good. So … What now?”

“How does leftovers and board games sound?”

“Perfect.”

[basshouse]

Of Politics and Road Trips

Welp, it seems like the time has come to address one of the gnarliest and most frequently asked questions of all time.  To be clear, that's gnarly for me and to me, respectively.  I’d also like to memorialize a recent road trip.  Before I start, though, let’s get grounded in the current context: it’s late summer IN MARCH; We are headed intro autumn, and there has been enough early snow that Mount Hutt was open for skiing (what?!?!).  I started my new job at Jade Software; the kids started a new school year in January, with Anily headed off to her first year of high school (5 years of high school here); both kids have changed to a new soccer club, which is much closer to the house (thank god); Anily made the A team; James is playing soccer and basketball and ridiculous amounts of Fortnite.  It’ll soon be a year that we’ve been here. We are right in the middle of a full 12 weeks of visitors and trips from/to the US. And in case you were wondering, the cat has managed to escape through open windows and doors a few times, but he’s always come back so I guess he’s ours for real :-)  

I still haven't submitted my dreadfully complicated tax return.  I am seriously procrastinating, and having visitors and reasons to road trip is helping/hurting. 

So!  BFGFAQ (big fat gnarly...you get it): It’s the political one.  From the Kiwis this usually comes in the form of “are you a Trump refugee?” or “what do you make of what’s going on over there?”  And even if it’s not an explicit question, how can I possibly answer the most frequent Q of all time -- “why did you move to New Zealand?” without considering how the political landscape of the US factored in?  I mean, you don't just up and move across the globe and leave a great place and a fabulous life without at least a mental checklist of pros and cons.  At least, most of us wouldn't.  And if you’re a grown-up (which we sadly have established that I am) and a contributing, aware, member of society (which I would argue that I am), your list must include considerations of the way your taxes are spent and people are treated in the place you live and how the outcomes of those things impact your lifestyle, your life, and the lives of other human beings.  Right? Right!  

MAJOR UPDATE:  A handful of days after I posted this, someone (likely an asshole white supremacist) shot and killed people in a CHCH mosque.  The city is still in lock down as I write this.  It is terrible and sad that  things like this happen anywhere, ever.  And I just want to say that as you read the ideas below, I’ll be watching closely the response of the NZ government.  

If there’s one thing that moving around the world to a place you’ve never been before, with a small family and no friends, and taking up a real life with a paycheck and a rent and a job does really well, it’s create an opportunity to reflect on the differences between where you were and where you are.  It also is extremely useful for considering, in a very real way, how the values you hold are (or are not) reflected in both a political system and a local way of living.  You really notice how political decisions, socioeconomic forces and cultural norms trickle into investments, infrastructure, bureaucracy, language, aesthetics, and interactions that impact you as you move through your day-to-day and learn how to get things done.  And because you’re an observer who is trying to become an insider, you may operate with less bias and pre- disposition to judge, more of a natural curiosity and interest in gathering information and then assimilating it and deciding over time. Chalk one up for perspective!  Happy to say this was the kind of experience and growth I hoped we’d all get through this adventure. 

Now, from the Americans this question usually comes in the form of something like “OMG, are you so glad you’re not here for this?” or “are public healthcare and lack of gun violence really as amazing as they seem from here?”.  Because, like me, most people I talk with on a regular basis feel something like this:

t least you do now, thanks to Willie Wonka’s and friend above, and this: 

So while I am not here in NZ without political bias or personal ideas of what’s right, wrong and important, I am more open minded to considering what’s good for this country and this context, and I have a stronger appreciation for the complexities of things all across the board since I’ve now gathered more data and had more experience. 

So, my American friends, in the interest of helping you draw some of your own conclusions, here is a segment I like to call Fact, Figures and Feelings:

America is amazing.  You have SO much of everything.  Including great food, tons of money, vast political power, and a really noticeable amount of homeless people.  I mean!  When I was in San Jose I felt so conflicted by both where to go for every meal and the fact that to get where I wanted to go I was uncomfortable with my own feelings and anxiety about possible conflict with the homeless and mentally ill folks I passed constantly. And it was often while I was walking into a convention center full of people trying to give away millions of dollars, listening to speakers who had made millions through technology. And while the dog adoption station on site and the furry friends in it made me feel a little better in the moment, could there be anything more cliche? Embarrassing. And yet is it fundamentally bad to have cute dogs making rich people feel good and maybe getting adopted?  No.  But it maybe uniquely American. 

Know what else you have a lot of, USA?  DRAMA.  Seriously.  The NZ morning news is usually about 25-50% reporting on the shitshow that is US and Brexit, and it turns out that when people say “if you get homesick, just listen to the news” they are correct.  

So what about NZ?  Well, when you live in a country with SO MANY FEWER (like so many!) people and a much smaller GDP, your reality is very different.  Not so loud.  Not so busy.  Not so many options. Much much simpler and frankly, it feels more sane. But we know the Mexican food sucks.  So... six of one/half dozen of the other?  This is what I am saying: I cannot tell you if Enchiladas and Aveda products make up for dealing with the opioid crisis if you’re seeing it every day, or if leaving Tito’s vodka and a much higher salary on the table is balanced out by the fact that police here in CHCH carried guns last week and this is how people think about it: 

FUN FACT: During the “summer holidays” (December-Jan), the morning news show on public radio literally went off air.  They replaced it with special summer programming, mostly dedicated to personal profiles and reviews of music and activities.  The only headlines they read each day were almost entirely about the US (shut downs) and UK (Brexit).  Apparently it’s possible for time off to extend to politics and news.  WOW.  Just notice how you feel about that. 

Now, NZ is certainly not the rainbows and unicorns utopia we liberals like to think a place with a public healthcare system and affordable education and far fewer guns will be -- there’s a growing imbalance in the distribution of wealth, the abortion laws are archaic, affordable housing is a big issue, nurses and teachers strike because they don’t get paid enough.

Politics was not the only motivator for our move, but we considered it -- sure seemed like a nice time to be out of the US, and it is.  It’s certainly not a clear #NZFTW-100% -they -nailed-it situation, though.  Every place and every system has its bad sides, and I have a lot to learn to really decide how the pros and cons balance out. All I know is that it’s really, really nice to be in a place where the political conversation is much simpler and more focused on politics and their outcomes on people than on hateful rhetoric. I am disappointed when I think of the lost opportunity due to the amount of resources you are wasting on unproductive, unkind conversations in the USA, when you have so much.  I feel bad for not being there to help stand up for the rights of people I believe in, but when you don't wake up angry every day at the headlines and the people you share space with, when the dialog is a little more open and productive, when the headlines are not so likely to be violent and sad, you start with a much better mental health baseline. You just can’t eat a great caesar salad whenever you feel like it, and it’s expensive as hell to leave the island and you don’t get paid enough to be able to do it often, which may really stress you out. For now, I’m really ok with it. But over time will the flaws in the NZ system (every system has them) outweigh the positive?  Do the opportunities in the US outweigh the negative? 

In the interest of letting you form some your own opinions: Take a look at the the top headlines of 2018 in New Zealand.  They include a pregnant PM; visits from Ed Sheeran, the Royals, and Obama; a handful of natural disasters; a bunch of news about other countries and sports; and the BIG BIG Drama which “unfolded over several deeply uncomfortable days” and ended in a minister being briefly admitted to a mental health facility and broad discussions about mental health.  Consider if the US was as concerned about its politicians’ mental health when they did crazy shit :-). 

Oh also, this is my CEO at work on Friday (hee hee): 

So far this year Lime Scooters (people get hurt on them, and people break the rules and double ride with no helmets -- gasp!) and the potential of a capital gains tax have been in the news pretty much daily. And that’s about it. Boring? Yes! Nice? Also yes! Did you know NZ is the only country in the OECD to not have a CGT? Are you impressed with my knowledge of initialisms? Worldly is the word you’re looking for to describe me.

I know, it looks like I am pooping on a trail, but I am actually doing squats mid-hike IN A SKIRT.  Probably gives me enough credibility to become a world leader, or at least present these numbers for your consideration: 

Now that you have something to think about -- because you weren't already thinking about politics enough (sorry!) -- let’s turn to a less political, but more important spiritual and philosophical topic: The Art of the Road Trip.

Pro tip: It’s easier to be a Road Trip Rembrandt with the right tools -- like these:

Mountains + Vans = Roadtrip Masterpiece

I think I mentioned in an earlier post that one of the things we’ve been doing a lot of is road tripping. Not so different from Seattle, eh? True. But since we can surf so close to the house and we have such a beautiful country to explore and a slightly less active social life, the road trips are more frequent and more varied.  As we are all happiest when we’re in the flow and hitting the right balance between challenge and success, I guess it makes sense.  Because if I do say so myself, we are damn good at the road trip, but there’s no way to have 2 to 6 people in a small space with a lot of stuff and a windy road ahead and podcasts and music to choose without challenge.

#vanlifeisthebestlife.

Here’s a map of where we’ve been on our travels thorough the country so far: 

So what’s the art of the road trip?  Composition: 

And the science?  One part great music, one part planning, and at least two parts having a sense of humor and joy about all the chaos. 

Like when there’s no where for you to sit: 

My most recent road trips were extra awesome due to the fact that Leslie Lapham (AKA Alex, AKA LL) was here and we took off on a few fun adventures. Now, Leslie is great for a lot of reasons and it was super fun to have her here for 5 weeks...and one of her best qualities, she takes great pictures!

Here’s what I like to say about our first trip:  it started with a bang and ended with a bee sting.  

Here’s the bang -- this is what happens when some dickhead decides to pass you on the right at high speed on a highway while you are TURNING RIGHT into a campground: 

So, that sucked.  Especially because aforementioned dickhead did not stop to see if we were ok, just left us there in the dark on our own. Luckily the Taupe Donkey was still drivable and packing enough duct tape to make it work.  So, off we headed from Kaikoura to make ourselves feel better in the vineyards and wineries of Marlborough.  

The Cloudy Bay Winery was not a bad place to spend an afternoon!  

Watson’s Way (not pictured) was a really weird place to spend a night though -- we were basically parked in a gravel parking lot in someone’s yard.  But man, did we have some good food! 

Although oops, I accidentally tried to take a grapevine as a souvenir.  And I swear this was before I even did a tasting!

After wine tasting and an amazing dinner at Arbor, we headed to the Marlborough Sounds, starting at Havelock, the mussel capital of the world!

We did a cool tour on the mailboat, which literally delivers mail, packages, animals, groceries, and god knows what else (possibly the odd tourist by accident?) to the residents of the remote 300 or so bays in the region, which can only be reached by boat. 

We ate a lot, of course.  But we ordered more than we could eat. 

After that we headed south on the inland route and camped overnight at the Tasman Lakes National Park.  

There were eels, pretty views, and random dock yoga.  

And last but definitely not least, we topped off the trip by meeting Jason at the always fabulous Hanmer Springs Thermal Pools.  What a drive to get there, too!  I did get stung by a bee while I was soaking, which was a total and pretty painful shock, despite the signs warning people to watch out for bees.  Little fuckers! 

After that, back to co-working and a couple weekends in CHCH:

Then...Lois!!! 

Now this blog is not about all the visitors and it’s already so long I dare not start going on about having Leslie and Lois here together.  Suffice it to say we had some fun times, some great food, and after 8 hours in the emergency room we did a quick road trip to Oamaru.  There were PENGUINS!!!!

There were penguins!!! We saw them waddle onto the beach at dusk after swimming 50K through the ocean all day.  Alas, you cannot take pictures of them, so you’ll have to settle for 3 Generations of Wachsmuth Women in the Wild until next time.  XO. 

[neruka]

A message to my heart

I’m probably too old to be writing about talking cats but, hey, gotta do something. This is technically a post I made on warriorcatsarpg.com (Which I’m biased but is p fun check it out). I just had a lot of muse for this poor dude.

Frostlight was surprisingly not too fond of leaf-bare, even if his name would have you think otherwise. Still, the snow white tom pushed himself out of the warmth of the elders' den, his joints popping like a popcorn kernel as he did so. Even though he was weary from the traveling he had something he needed to do, a tradition of sorts, and as a WindClanner he held traditions very near to his heart. Once a moon he would take the journey outside of camp, which nowadays he rarely left, and go sit on top of Outlook Rock where he and Wildflower had their first date. From this spot not only could he see all of the territories but he was closer to the stars that way. He would tell her everything that happened, all the clan news, who of their old friends had passed away, about how the kittens always got into his fur, everything she would have loved. Then, he would make his way back to his nest before sunrise, except this time his clan would not find the elder in his nest the next morning. However Outlook Rock was gone, he had made do with what high points he could find during the travels but part of him wondered if the stars could even hear him in this foreign land. However he managed to find a nice spot near a cliffside and gently lowered himself down, he could not move as quick as he once did, his back had been causing him pain for moons, but the journey had worsened it. At one point Frostlight was the quickest cat of his generation, none could run faster than he could, never losing a race - not once! Now he was sure a turtle could run circles around him, but he was not upset with that he had a full life full of many memories and knew that it was time for the younger generation to have their fun. Frostlight gazed up at the stars his cloudy blue eyes locking in the brightest one, even if cataracts had consumed his vision, leaving everything tinted with fog, he could still find the stars and he was thankful for that much. As the stars above him twinkled with a brightness that he had not seen in the moors for at least a season now he could tell that StarClan was strong here. WindClan would be safe, he truly believed that. "Hello, my love." The white tom mewed, his voice quiet and tired, he was still trying to catch his breath from the trek up here from camp. "A lot has happened, so you may want to grab a rabbit, I assume StarClan of all places would have a fine rabbit." He said with a chuckle, lowering himself down slowly and curling his fluffy white tail around his paws, the entire time the snow crunching below him. "I guess.. I'll start off with the bad, when we were making our way through the mountains.. a bear attacked us. I never have seen anything as big! Warriors and apprentices rushed in... but.. many were injured, Thornwind - that old fool! He rushed in, he was always one to never think before acting, the elders were told to stay back but of course, he didn't listen, and no him being deaf isn't an excuse." Frostlight said with a huff, Thornwind was his dear friend, an apprentice who he aspired to be like as a kit, and a dear friend later in life. "I didn't see it at first..what he was doing, I was closer than he was, I..I should have.." The elder's voice broke, tears streaming from his face as that moment played in his head. "He knocked an apprentice out of the way." He then mewed between breaths as he desperately tried to make himself just breathe but it was hard when the sadness of a memory sucked the air right out of you. "The apprentice is fine, Fairypaw, but... Thorn...Thornwind didn't make it." Perhaps it was silly to tell his mate this, of course, those two were probably both in StarClan being chummy. Once the tears stopped blurring his vision more than it already was he glanced back up at the stars and for a moment he swore he saw a second star twinkling alongside the Northstar. "Thornwind, I bet you're up there having a good ol' laugh at me crying right now. You just remember to keep your paws to yourself, Wildflower is my gal!" "We got here though, I hear its huge... I haven't been able to get out of my nest that often, its-I'm.. I guess I'm just always tired lately, it's getting worse as the moons pass. We're safe here. This will be a great home, and oh my dear flower, you would love Palestar. Every day she shows herself to be one of the finest leaders we have ever had. Her heart is kind, her voice is soft and full of wisdom - of course, a former medicine cat will guide the clan closer to the stars, more than we ever were..you would love her." The leader reminded her of his mate so much, kind, caring, thoughtful, but willing to stand up for her clan. Making the clan one that helps others and keeps the peace, a place where he knows his sons would be safe. "She just had her kits, they're strong! Apparently, Dawnflower, Polkastrike, and Palestar will raise them.. not quite sure how that works, but I'm not one to judge, just means those kids will be loved by three cats and who can have anything bad to say about that! Their names are Nymphkit, Juniperkit, Hawkkit, and Woolykit, they're the first to be born in this new land by the lake but they won't be the last, I'm sure of it." He mewed with a smile, kits had always warmed his heart, always will. He was a father, a grandfather, soon to be a great-grandfather. All he really wanted in life was a big successful family, that was all he needed. "Flowerblossom is pretty far along in her pregnancy too, soon she and Polarislight will be parents! Did you ever imagine we'd be great-grandparents, love?" He asked, the smile only growing, his son was a fine warrior and his mate was a strong she-cat, claws sharpen than anyone else's! "Some strangers joined recently too... I hear they're loners, perhaps kitty-pets some are nervous about them joining us, Berryheart said they won't help the clan. Don't you worry tho! I made sure to remind her that if you were here you would have ripped her ear off for that. I swear, you're more of a warrior than I ever was, you might have been born a kittypet but you had the heart of a lion!" He not only loved his mate, but admired her, he respected Wildflower more than anything in the world she had constantly proved herself to be strong, loyal and was also the most beautiful cat he had ever seen. The white tom's eyes were starting to close, he laid his head down in his paws and let out a purr of amusement, "You're a tough one, you're just who the clan needs right now." As he got comfortable again he thought about his sons, his family..everything that had gone on, had he missed anything? Perhaps, his memory was not as good as it once was either. "I think the kids know what's going on... They're smart, its pretty obvious. Dawnflower says there's not much she can do, I don't blame her there's no herb to cure old age." Frostlight said with a sigh, he wouldn't want to waste herbs anyways, not with how many were injured from the journey to the lake. "I don't mean to worry them, I'm just so tired all the time it's hard to keep up with everyone, I try my best, I know you wouldn't want me lazing around all day." A silence filled the cliffside, the white tom was blending in well with the snow on the ground that was still falling from the skies. It was almost like mother nature was tucking him into his final resting place with a blanket of snow. Even if it was cold it did not matter much to Frostlight, he needed to fulfill his commitment to his mate, no matter what. He had promised her when they were just apprentices that he would always tell her everything, their relationship had been open and honest and even with her death he would keep that going. "Sorry my flower, give me a moment, I'm just so tired." Frostlight said softly, his voice trailing off into the silence of winter, the whole world was asleep and at peace. The moon's glow illuminated the area around the elder, but soon there was something brighter to be seen. "It's alright sweetheart, come, tell me on the way, we can take our time, I want to know everything." A voice said, leaning down to nudge the white tom with her nose. The white elder opened his eyes and just stared, she was here, and still as beautiful as ever. A stunning calico but now stars were laced into her fur and as he looked down at his paws he saw those same stars. "Well my flower, it all started on Outlook Rock.." When his clan would find him, they would at least know he died happily, for the last thing he saw was the love of his life and so he died with a smile upon his face.

[krnaturalphoto]

When I first started running I never thought I eould be doing the things I have done. They were not things thst I wanted to do. Some of the things I’ve done I didn’t even know were things people do when I first started running. Like trail running; that’s a thing? Running a trail marathon; people really do that?

As I began to run more I met more people. I made amazing friends. I learned more about running and the amazing things that runners really do. I learned about what the human body is capable of. More importantly I began to learn whst my body was capable of. I began to push myself farther and farther, literally. First a 5k, then a 10k, then a half marathon, several half marathons. I began to trail run more and more and conqured those same distances on the trails and thn pushed farther to 25k trail runs. Looking for that next challenge. Looking for that next beautiful trail I could experience. Wondering where tht next trail would take me.

Last year I was invited to participate in the event that really set all this in motion. My friend invited me to particiapte in an event with her and a couple other firends. We would run the Sehgahund Trail Marathon relay together. Once again, this was a thing that I didn’t realize even existed at the time. This was sucha fun event for me. It doesn’t get much better than spending time out on the trails with your friends working as a team. I don’t know if my fiend will think if this event with as much appreciation for the path it has sent us down as I do, but for me it was a formative event that has helped lead me to where I am now.

After building up by running loner distances last year culminatiung with a chalenging 25k I returned to the idea of Sehgahunda. We had all begun running more and more trails and I thought what if we all trained together and ran the full solo Sehgahunda Trail Marathon together. I almost couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of my mouth, and I don’t think my friends could either at first. A marathoin was never something I had thougtht about wanting to do. But now that the idea had formed in my head I just couldn’t shake it.

I spent all winter training and continued into spring. As the day of the race approached I began to feel nervous and anxious. I really has no idea what to expect. I just had to hope my training had me prepared for this. My wife was going to be at the race crewing and cheering me on at the aide stations and check points. Even though I really had no idea how this race would go for me I told her that I felt like if everything went well and I felt good I thought I could be done in six hours.

My friends and I spent the week leading up to the race watching the weather forecast for race day. The two conditions we were hoping not to have for the race was for it to not be too hot and for it not to be too wet. If it was wet we knew the trails leading to the aide stations/check points would be muddy disasters. We were fortunate enough to not have heat, which for me is the worst possible condition. However, we had plenty of rain leading up to the race including rain the night before the race and it actively rained during most of the race itself.

The trails that take you to the aide stations/check points lead you out of the woods and generally into open fields. The fields were completely saturated with water. It was a mud-fest. There was standing water in areas. The mud was at least ankle deep on most of these trails. You just slipped and slid all over. You couldn’t get any footing. You couldn’t push off because your feet just slid out behind you. As a mid pack runner another problem is that half of the runners are ahead of you so they have all already trampled through this area and degraded the trail a great deal. The traffic out in front on these trails basically created a narrow steep rut of mud to run through. You couldn’t step off to the side because it was so muddy that you slid back down into the trench. Gravity was doing its job. And it got more complicated. Not only did you have to navigate the water hazards and the deep slippery mud these sections were out and backs with two way traffic going down a path that especially due to the mud was basically single track. Trying to continue to move forward without colliding with your fellow runners was not as easy as it might seem. Combine this challenge with the possibility of passing other runners going the same direction as you and it was even more difficult. It basically became more effective to divert so far off the designated path that you were basically out in a field of knee high grass. But even that wasn’t possible most places.

On the way to most of the aide stations/check points you were going up hill. So, you were working against gravity in ground conditions that made it very to push off or use any power or strength to propel oneself forward as the ground just continued to shift under your foot as you pushed against it. The factors combined to result in a lot of walking up through the mud. On the way down from the aide stations/check points you were presented with a different kind of challenge. The mud was obviously still there but instead of going against gravity you were going with gravity down the hill. And instead of the mud preventing you from pushing off of to propel yourself up, now the mud prevented you from planting your feet to slow yourself down and control your descent. It was like mud skiing except there was much less control of direction and footing than with actual skies on snow. You slid and splattered down the hill at the best speed you could manage without completely losing control and either falling or colliding with a fellow runner. I’ve heard running described as controlled falling and this was as close to that as I have ever felt. The fall was barely under control but felt inevitable. However, I managed not to fall on any of those sections.

I thought that the main trails that ran through the woods would remain mostly firm with only a relatively small degree of mud despite the rain. I even advised my friend against running in her trail shoes with more aggressive tread for better grip in the mud because I thought the main trails would not be so bad as to require it and the side trails up to the aide stations would be so muddy that they wouldn’t make a difference. Luckily she was smart enough to ignore me and follow her own instincts. The main trail was much muddier than I had anticipated. I lost a shoe in a mud hole in less than two miles. I saw all the runners ahead of me running around this muddy spot and I thought it made no sense to take the extra steps to avoid it since we were going to get plenty muddy anyway. I ran right through the middle of the mud I went through it just fine. I didn’t slip at all. Unfortunately though one of my shoes did not follow me through those several steps and remained lodged in the mud. Being early in the race I was still moving along at a decent pace and despite my shoes being tied as tightly as I could get them my foot slipped right out and I took several muddy steps with no shoe on one foot. Then I had to retrace my steps and shimmy my foot back into my shoe.

I love the trails that make up the Sehgahunda course. They are almost entirely single track until the last 4 miles. The trails twist and turn and wind their way through the woods at Letchworth State Park. You get to see and enjoy so much gorgeous woodland scenery. You can see out across the gorge created by the Genesee River at times. You run along sloping ravines as you traverse the forest. You you run down into than back up out of countless gullies created by water runoff over the years. I was actually pleasantly surprised that there wasn’t more water in the gullies considering all the rain we had been having and were currently experiencing during the race.

I didn’t really have a plan for the race other than do whatever it takes to finish. I didn’t have a set plan to try to average a certain pace or anything. I started out the race running whatever pace felt comfortable. I wasn’t running hard but I wasn’t holding back either. I felt really good the whole first half of the race.

The race has a fair amount of elevation gain overall but there aren’t really any particularly steep climbs, which is good for me because I am not good at climbing and it always seems to just suck the life right out of my legs for whatever follows. Despite there being no steep elevation gains there are still some really nice long gradual downhill sections where you can pick up some speed and run faster. I was able to use these features to my advantage throughout the first half of the race.

As I approached the first side station/check point, about 6 miles into the race, I caught up to a couple of my female friends who were also running the full marathon. So I was able to chat with some friends out on the trail for a few minutes. At the aide station/check point I got one of my Calorie Bomb Cookies, that I made from the recipe in the No Meat Athlete Cookbook, out of my pack and ate and drank there. I said hi to my wife who was there to cheer me on and crew for me. Then I was back off on the trail.

After getting back down into the woods I eventually caught up to my two friends who I originally hatched this crazy plan with. We were able to talk for a little while out on the trail. We were all in good spirits. I also took some video of them running which I don’t know if they were aware of at the time. I continued to move along in the trails at a pretty good pace for me. I was just casually running down a relatively nondescript section of trail when I apparently failed to pick my size 14 foot up high enough to clear a root or a rock because I went down. I tripped and went straight down flat on my chest and face. Luckily I was able to brace myself somewhat with my outstretched hands like superman. Fortunately I was not hurt and I popped back up and continued to run. One of my fellow runners asked if I was ok and my response was that “I’m a professional faller at this point. I don’t get hurt.”

The large number of participants from our running club, Southern Tier Running Club, included several teams running the relay. The relay teams from our club included some very fast kids. Kids who are much faster than me on my best day. My friends and I had been talking about how long we thought it would be before I was passed by one of our club’s relay teams. Even with a 30 minute headstart it was only a matter of time before they overtook me. I said I would be happy if I stayed ahead of them for 10 miles. I actually did better than I expected. I didn’t get passed by the first member of one of our relay teams until mile 12. He went flying past me like I was standing still.

As I approached the 3rd aide station/check point at mile 15 I was starting to get tired. The plan here was to take the time to change my socks and reapply anti chaffing ointment to my feet because I have had problems with blisters on my past long runs. First I had to scrape the mud off my shoes just so I could get to my shoe laces. Changing my socks felt so good. It was much more noticeable than I had expected and even though I didn’t change my wet and muddy shoes my feet still felt dry and comfortable. I don’t know if that was a byproduct of wearing Darn Tough brand socks or what, but I was happy for it. The second half of the race was a little drier and less muddy so the change in socks was a good decision even though it took a significant amount of time to do. It also helps to keep your feet dry if you keep your shoes on while running which I managed to do during the second half of the race by keeping my weight more on my toes through the muddier areas. I was able to see my wife again and talk and absorb some of her positive vibes and every as she cheered me on and then I was off from the third stop.

The second half of the race was kind of a blur. The aide stations/check points were closer together and I took advantage of that. But the second half of the race felt like much more of a grind. Just trying to keep movingforward. It also seemed to have more elevation gain or at least more sustained segments of elevation gain requiring more walking. One part I do remember was falling once again on a very nondescript section of trail. Not doing anything that really should have lead to me falling. Just failing to pick up my feet. When I got up I saw another pair of runners standing over me and one said that they had just fallen there too. So it must have been booby trapped. At least I wasn’t the only one it took down.

At some point as the day progressed it began to get warmer and more humid down in the forest and when you emerged at aide stations/check points you could feel the cool breeze out in the open and we bantered with the great volunteers regarding their nice weather. I took some ice and put it under my hat and tucked some into the buff I was wearing around my neck to help me stay cool.

As I traversed the trails over the second half of the race what I knew to be my weakness became increasingly apparent. My hips and core muscle were getting tighter and increasingly sore. All the muscles you use to lift your legs and stabilize yourself in you pelvic girdle were screaming at me. I pushed on through the discomfort. I walked when I needed to on inclines and stretched my muscles as best I could at side stations/check points.

When I began the flatter section that was basically old logging road or gravel road or some combination of the two I knew I was getting closer to the end from the preview run I did here with my friends. Only about four miles to go. It was both a relief and a bit of mental torture. I was relieved to know the end was in sight but felt like how can there still be four miles. And those four miles seemed to drag on forever. But despite that the simple knowledge of how close I was to the end and the relative flatness of this section of the course allowed me to run at a reasonable pace and push myself to sustain it.

When I emerged from the woods onto the park road I was almost done. The finish was literally in sight. Just one more hurdle to get over. That last section of road included a not so small hill and it feels especially daunting after 25 miles. Who does that? Who throws one last hill in within the last quarter mile of a trail marathon? I was determined not to walk up that hill. I don’t know how fast or slow I went up that hill but I maintained some version of running all the way up. I am sure it wasn’t pretty.

As I approached the finish I saw my wife there cheering me on. She has been such a huge support for me during all this insane training. It helped push me across the finish just to see her. It was a great feeling to cross that finish and just stop moving for a minute. It’s a great post race vibe at Sehgahunda. Talking to friends who’ve already finished, waiting to cheer friends on through the finish, and cheering on other runners is a great way to finish off the day. Oh yeah, did I mention there is food and beer.

The other aspect of all this aside from the running for me has been trying to document as much as possible as a photographer. Race day was not a good day for photography so I did not take many still photos with my GoPro, but I did shoot several segments of video, which I honestly haven’t even watched yet to see how they came out. I’m hoping I can compile the footage into something bigger at some point. Race photos didn’t turn out great which is a bummer but I did some creative editing to try to make them look as good as possible and they accompany this post. I hope you enjoyed reading this way too long race report.

If you’ve enjoyed this and want to support my work become a supporter of mine on Patreon for as little as $1 a month. It helps me put all this together. Thanks for your support

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Running My First Trail Marathon When I first started running I never thought I eould be doing the things I have done.

[cassbuttttt]

Do The Pizza.

Pairing: Ski Instructor!Dean x Reader

Summary: Y/N sucks at skiing, so her friends get her a ski-instructor, who just so happens to be a really hot dude who goes by the name of Jensen.

Warnings: Fluff ( AKA-- IT’S NOT A BLOODY WARNING-- ENJOY THIS)

Word Count: 1587

A/N: First ever fan fiction, so be kind! Also, if this looks similar, it’s because it's from my private account, @highlyfuncti0nings0ci0path :D

“Guys, you really don’t have to do that,” Y/N says, eyeing her friends surrounding her.

“Y/N, you need lessons,” Y/N’s friends said honestly. Y/N looked down, embarrassed. “And even we don’t have the capability.” They smirked.

Y/N could accept that. She also didn’t want to hold them back from doing what they loved to do.

“At least let me pay for it,” She said, trying to argue the one bit that she could, but her group of friends just shook their heads.

“We offered,” one said.

“Well, I guess, let’s go,” Y/N sighed heavily.

“Hi,” a tall man stepped out behind Y/N’s group of friends. “I’m Dean.” He held out his hand.

Y/N took his hand and gave it a firm shake.

“I take it you’re Y/N,” he said, while Y/N nodded. He gestured to the group of girls behind them, “And they are the reason you’re doing this.”

Y/N sighed heavily. “Yes. They decided that I was beyond their capabilities.”

“A challenge?” Dean said with a smirk.

Y/N arched an eyebrow and then relented. “I guess…”

“Good.” His smirk grew, then turned to address Y/N’s friends. “I’ll take it from here. Thank you, ladies, for bringing the young woman here.”

She pouted, then gave a very obvious salutation. “Bye!”

On the chairlift, Dean was clearly trying to get an understanding of Y/N’s skills-- or lack thereof. Y/N had a hard time telling him that it was her first time, EVER, on a chairlift. He noticed.

“Is it just me, or have you never been on a chairlift before?” He said, glancing at Y/N’s hands which were clearly wrapped as tightly as possible around the bar keeping them from falling out of the seats.

Y/N shrugged, trying and failing to act casual.

“Okay,” Dean said, quite bravely if Y/N was honest. “We’ll just go over how to get off of the lift.”

“Sure,” Y/N stated, the amount of apprehension in her voice conveying her nerves.

“So what you’ll do is lean forward onto the edge of the seat. When we reach the edge of the ramp, you’ll just lean forward and slide down, just like sliding around in your socks.” Dean looked over to Y/N, who, if at all possible, looked even more nervous. “You can hold onto my arm if that would make you feel more comfortable.”

“That would be amazing,” She said, feeling self-conscious. “Thank you!”

“It’s my job, don’t worry about it,” Dean said reassuringly.

After what had seemed like an eternity, the chairlift had reached the last stretch of the mountain. Dean lifted up the safety bar and offered his arm out to Y/N.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” he said, smiling.

“Oops,” Y/N laughed.

Dean scooched both of them to the end of the lift, and when his skis touch the ramp beneath them, he stood and pulled Y/N with him, and started to glide easily down the slick snow. She just followed, just dead weight.

After they had successfully gotten out of the way of the lift’s exit, Y/N raised her hands in celebration and screamed into the frigid air.

“That’s right!” She screeched, while Dean bent over because he was laughing too hard to stand. “In your face, professional engineers or whoever makes ski lifts too DAMN hard to get off!”

Once she was finished, Dean straightened up, still laughing. “I take it you didn’t like that experience.

Y/N blushed.

Wiping a tear of laughter from his face, Dean pulled his ski goggles over his face. “Come on Y/N. Let’s do this, to show those professional engineers or whoever that you can ski.” He laughed again and grabbed her hand.

Pulling her down to the place where skiers (Beginners, keep in mind) started the perilous journey down the mountain.

“Pizza,” he chanted, going back down the slow decline of the mountain, backward. “Say it with me,” he said to Y/N. “Pizza. Pizza. Pizza. Pizza. Pi--”

She interrupted him. “Why exactly are we saying pizza, Dean?” He slowed, before stopping.

“Omigod,” Dean said, facepalming. “I forgot to tell you.” He looked up and made eye contact with Y/N. “Pizza is the shape your skis should take while you're going down the mountain-- or at least until you have the skill down. It makes you less aerodynamic, so it slows you down, making your speed controllable.”

They started again, this time both Dean and Y/N chanting. “Pizza. Pizza. Pizza. Pizza.”

Once Y/N had almost gotten that skill down, Dean decided he would let her lead.

“Y/N,” Dean said, hesitantly. “I was thinking that because you now have pizza down, you should try to lead us down the mountain.”

“No!” Y/N yelled surprised that Dean had suggested that. “What if I start to go too fast, or what if-”

Dean cut her off. “Y/N,” he said gently. “We could spend all day wondering what might happen, but I know almost anything that could happen, I can handle it.”

She gave him a doubtful look.

“If you start going to fast,” he said, before skiing down quickly, smoothly, and efficiently, to a tree, “I can catch up-- clearly. But, if you don’t feel comfortable with that, it’s fine.” He shrugged while keeping a sharp eye on Y/N as she pizza’d over to him. “We can just keep chanting pizza. Pizza. Pi-”

Y/n cut him off. “It’s fine. I’ll try to lead.”

And Y/N did well. By the time they had reached the bottom of the mountain-- which was about 600 feet away from them when they had the pizza talk- Y/N had only crashed or collapsed about five times. Dean congratulated her on that. She blushed.

“It’s almost twelve,” Dean said, pulling out his phone. “Do you want to grab some food?”

Y/N nodded her consent.

“Soo,” Dean said, “Where do you want to eat? We have so many options.” He said, twirling around, his ski boots clunking on the cobblestone.

“A burger place, maybe?”

Dean grinned. “Oh- a girl who likes burgers. I like you even more!”

Y/N laughed. “It’s the fries that do it for me.”

He gasped, holding his hands to his chest like he had been shot. “How dare?”

She smirked, before relenting. “I actually do like burgers, I was joking.”

“Well then,” Dean said, grabbing her hand and dragged her through the crowded path, a place clearly in mind, “Do I have the place for you!”

Grinning, Y/N allowed herself to be pulled through the crowds.

“Moe’s Original Barbecue?” She said, looking at Dean with a questioning smile. (Yes, it’s a real place. Yes, it has awesome burgers. Yes, I’ve been there.)

“The best burgers in town,” he said, and moved closer, whispering into her ear. “And pulled pork, but if you order that, you’ll break my heart.” He pulled back.

“We can’t have that,” Y/N said, shaking her head.

They walked inside of the restaurant, and settled down in a booth, before pulling off all of their gear. Their jackets went first, then their goggles and helmets. It wasn’t too cold outside, so Y/N had seen no point layer. Apparently, neither had Dean. She looked up to see him in just a t-shirt, and from the helmet. She gasped. He laughed.

“Didn’t see what I really looked like under all that crap,” Dean said, smirking.

“Shut up,” Y/N mumbled. “You just look a lot like an actor I know, Jensen Ackles, I think.”

He laughs. “I get that a lot.”

Just as Y/N was about to say something to embarrass herself, a waitress came over and asked them what their orders were.

“Umm, I’ll have a classic burger please?” Y/N said, mumbling.

“And, I will also enjoy the wonders of the classic burger,” Dean said, winking at the waitress. Y/N kicked him. He winced. Y/N smirked in his direction

Y/N thanked the waitress as she walked away. “Dude, what the hell was that?”

“I was just trying to get her number, for Sammy.”

“And I’m the waitress you were just flirting with.” Y/N smiled at the look on his face. “Who’s Sammy?”

“My brother,” Dean said, still pouting.

After talking about the most random and obscure things, their meal finally came. After the waitress had left, Y/N grabbed her burger, muttered something along the lines of “Finally” and stuffed her face. Dean smirked.

He also grabbed his burger, and together it took them only ten minutes to finish their meals. After they had split the check (a point of contention), they had walked out of the restaurant, only to have to say goodbye.

“What is your number,” Y/N said, feeling brave.

He gave it to her, and they smiled.

“Thanks for helping me “master” my skiing skills,” Y/N said, trying to slow the inevitable.

“Anytime,” Dean said, and it was clear he meant it.

“I guess I should go,” Y/N said, looking at her phone as it lit up with messages.

“Yeah,” Dean said, a bitter smile present on his face.

“Bye!” Y/N said. “I’ll text you! If I’m honest, It’ll probably be something like ‘Is Your refrigerator running?’”

He laughed and smiled.

She turned, looking over her shoulder, waving.

Dean watched until she had disappeared from her sight. Frowning, he looked down onto the ground, until his phone buzzed.

Is your refrigerator running? :P

He laughed.

[woobaejin]

Lai Guanlin — Winter MT Confession

Wanna One X Mini Winter / Christmas Series

Ha Sungwoon | Bae Jinyoung | Hwang Minhyun | Kim Jaehwan | Lee Daehwi | Park Jihoon | Kang Daniel | Ong Seongwu | Park Woojin

December 29, 2017

Guanlin X Reader

Word Count: 1371

“Current condition through Mount. Han is fairly steady. However, there has been a major crash down the highway on 203. We are looking at a 2-3 hour delay as the snow must be cleared in order for officers and the medical team to come through and look. This has been KCN News at 4PM.” 

You turned off the tv as you slumped against the couch. You were on a winter MT trip with your third-year homeroom, but because you overslept and no one bothered to wake you up, they all left for the slopes about an hour ago. 

You grabbed the itinerary and noticed that they were not going to be back for another 4-5 hours which left you alone in the huge home. You walked over to the snack cabinet and grabbed a small bag of chips while scrolling through your phone. What could you possibly do for another 4-5 hours? 

Sleep was probably not an option as you already took a 3-hour nap. It was understandable as you were the President of the homeroom and your peers knew you were exhausted from playing a significant role in making sure the trip went well. You weren’t that fond of skiing anyways and knew you would have probably fallen countless of times and potentially even injuring yourself. 

As you finished the bag of chips, a sudden loud bang was made down the hall which seriously triggered you. You could have sworn that you were the only person who didn’t go to the slopes. Feeling slightly scared, you grabbed the remote from earlier and began to walk with high alert. 

A loud rustling could be heard in one of the rooms, to which you finally stopped and held onto the doorknob. Letting out a sigh, you quickly swung the door open to which you find Guanlin rubbing his feet in pain while sitting at the edge of his lower bunk bed. 

“G-Guanlin? You didn’t go skiing?” You blinked at approached the male. “Ah.. no i didn’t..” 

“Are you okay? How’d you get hurt?” You sat right next to him and chuckled. “I stubbed my toe against the heater..” 

“Ah, that explains the loud bang..” Guanlin finally managed to ease the pain and slowly got up, limping his right foot slightly and ushered you to follow him out to the living room area. 

“How was your sleep? You seemed really tired from yesterday and cooking in the morning.” He sat on the sofa, to which you sat across from him on the reclining chair. 

“I honestly needed it. I was kind of sad that I didn’t go to the slopes, but I’m not mad about resting up, to be honest. How come you didn’t want to go?”

“I didn’t want to leave you alone in the house.” You couldn’t help but grin because you were well aware of the fact that Guanlin had been crushing on you for quite some time (or that was what you were told two months ago). It was never a spoken thing among your homeroom or even the whole school, but it was quite known that the good-looking male had a thing for you. However, just recently that he was asked out by Jooyeon from Homeroom D and at that point, you weren’t sure if the two decided to secretly date as the two would usually walk home together after school.

“I would have been fine though.. Could have just left a note.” Guanlin shook his head and fiddled with his phone. “Nah, I wouldn’t be able to do that. Plus, it would be lonely for you. They’re not coming back for another 4 hours. It would suck just to be in the house by yourself.” 

“How thoughtful of you. Thanks, Guanlin.” He gave you that gummy smile of his before typing away on his phone. 

You and Guanlin weren’t that close but have hung out with a group of mutual friends a couple of times. This was the first for you to be alone with him and you honestly wanted to see why almost all of the girls in your homeroom had a crush on him. 

“You know this is the first time where it’s just the two of us talking.” Guanlin looked up at his phone and nodded in agreement. “Is this an honest and deep talking session now?” He grinned and quickly moved over to the other side of the couch near you. “I’m down to talk and gossip too though.” You grinned and shifted yourself over to face him.

“You start first, (Y/N). What do you like to do? What do you like to eat? Anything interesting? Love life?” 

“Well, I like to binge watch Netflix, but I love going to the movie theaters too. I like online shopping, and I read if I have extra spare time on my hands. I love noodles over rice, and I live for soups. I can eat almost everything, but I rarely eat fruit, but I know I should. Interesting? Hm. I am a huge baseball fan. I haven’t seen a live game yet, but I usually watch it on TV with my dad. Oh, and I’m single. No love life.”

Guanlin slightly perked up at the word baseball. He was on the baseball team himself at school and is the fastest pitcher in their high school district. “Who do you like? Samsung Lions?”

“Yeah. They won the league this year too!” You grinned to which he shook his head. “LG Twins are going to make a comeback eventually. Just watch.” 

“Alright. Same questions for you, Guanlin.”

“I play a lot of games. I watch sports a lot too, but I sleep whenever I can too. I love hot pot, and I eat almost everything, but I pick out the onions in my food if I see it. Something interesting... I play the piano, but no one knows that except for like Jihoon, Woojin and Jinyoung when they come over and see that I have one in my room—” 

“You play the piano? No way. I would have never expected that. One day we should go to the music room and have you play. I want to hear so maybe whenever you’re free to let me know!” 

“Love life... I do have—.” He looked at you with a soft smile which caused you to become curious and cut into his words.

“I heard Jooyeon asked you out a couple of weeks ago. How are you two? You guys made it super low key” You gently nudged his arm. 

“She did... and we’re not—”

“She’s really pretty, and you both look perfect together! Con–”

“We’re not dating... I said no to her, but we’re still really close.” You were silent and suddenly felt kind of awkward for assuming that they were together.

“I do like someone though.” He commented and sat up straight, and looked kind of happy. “She’s brilliant, caring towards others and is pretty too. We’ve hung out a couple times with other people, but I’m too scared she’s going to say no if I ask her out on a date. What do you think I should do?”

You hummed in thought. What would be able to do? “Find out what she likes and just ask her. It won’t hurt, and plus, she’d be dumb to say no. You’re good looking, nice and great person!! If anything there are other people out there who would be happy to go out with you, Guanlin.”

“Sounds like some good advice. (Y/N), how about we go watch a movie next week, and grab some ramen after? I was told that it would be dumb for you to say no because I am apparently, handsome, nice and a great person.”

You couldn’t believe that Lai Guanlin just used your own advice to ask you out on a date. “Wow.. okay I’d be happy to go out on a date with you.”

He grinned and looked so excited due to your response. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”