#and i also got some ice coffee which was gross unfortunately

[lettuce-seize-the-day]

what's wrong w me

[thekitschdiet]

my take on the literary masterpiece, the chic diet

Firstly, I am no one. It’s part of my charm. My fifteen minutes of fame was years ago, when I had an instagram niche meme page. I didn’t even take any brand deals! And my posts averaged six thousand likes! Anyhow. I am hardly literate and well hydrated and carry a small sephora-CVS-hybrid worth in my mini tote bag. Here is my guide on how to live like me, the intermediate kitsch-rat, aspiring influencer. But like, in an apathetic, somewhat dissonant, ironic way. I like saying I live by dogmatic principles. But a lot of it, um, is just eating disorder rituals. But that’s not really important. You’re as hot as you say you are, and as much an authority on what you write so long as you say it with, you know, conviction. It’s kind of venerable how fucking delusional I am, actually. Giving any sort of advice like I’m anywhere close to the ritzy ideal of the amphetamine-areyouami label-american. New York, ideally. West Village, preferably. But I guess the kind of guide I can write is better suited to someone living in a suburb, in a house with the twelve-paned windows. I always thought those were so chic. SO quaint, in a somewhat luxe way. Like, Connecticut vibes. My parents used to drive me up there as a child to buy books and ice cream. Nowadays I’d opt for a matcha latte with novelty ice cubes, but I guess at the time it was pretty sweet. 

Because I popped a Vyvanse at like, 10pm, this next little bit could go one of two ways. I will write the most articulate, brilliant piece of literature of my life. Magnum opus, if there was a skinnier word for it. Or, I will get wrapped up doing something like folding all my last-season knits (which is part of my look, okay! I don’t have a job!) and fixating on a paragraph on how a girl’s collarbones are almost as identifying as a fingerprint, or a signature. I’m not a graphologist, but if you write your A’s with the little tail on top (like on a computer), you’re probably a snake. Nothing personal, just an observation. Also, I do have a biology final to study for. Not that I’m super anal, or even particularly committed to academia, but even in my precariously manicured (read that as separate terms; I did a good job on my nail polish, okay? But I happen to also be teetering on the brink of an epiphany or a collapse. Hence the use of the word precarious.) state, I know it’s important enough I can let one of my countless side-quests sit idle for a couple more days. 

The first section seems only natural to be about hydration. And the whole idea of drinking things, really. There was a section in The Chic Diet about Adderall dry-mouth, which deeply resonated with me. Once I bit off a chunk of a Nivea Strawberry Shine (my favorite lip balm, more on that later) and swished it around my mouth. Didn’t help. Really, really didn’t. Anyway, I suppose that even if it served no purpose for combatting my prevacatingly ingenious cottonmouth solution, I was able to milk a sentence or two out of the experience. “Do it for the Vine”, all grown up! And wearing bananapapaya resin hoops too. Side note, that Etsy shop is a parasocial enemy of mine. It stems from jealousy, which sucks, but hating from inside a club I’m adjacent to is much healthier than being a hateful individual towards people I would, you know, interact with. Daily. Or something. I stopped going to therapy because I felt stupid about going and I don’t live in the right kind of town to warrant vacuous $300 hours. Bitching about my well-adjusted parents and how desperately I wished my anxiety would just “go away” was plainly gross, and a waste. Like, pretty sure almost every problem I have could be solved by a couple painful conversations taking place during a hurricane. Such a shame it doesn’t rain much here. Anyhow, I digress. 

Staying hydrated. It is essential to my character, my persona, if you will; to never be without either an elegant metal bottle (I’m loyal to the smooth enamelled S’well ones, printed to look like marble or a semi holographic solid) or a little 16oz tumbler with a metal straw. Hydroflasks were some of the worst things to happen to society. I want to preface this claim with the fact that I wanted one in the same way a teenage girl wants a new iPhone so she can keep up appearances with her dermatologist-dad friends who still have the XR, by the way. But I ended up spending the money on like, a minidress at Brandy Melville before it fled my city. Or maybe a Fresh Sugar tinted lipbalm. For the better, even though the dress has a busted zipper now and the lipbalm tube has inevitably gotten dinged and dented by the other contents of my mini-totebag. Unlike a car, though, a couple scuffs on your laptop or your luxury lipbalm tube looks kind of cool. Like, you’re not someone who values the pristine, unused quality of an item that was ambiguously intended to be used versus displayed on Instagram.  Now, I’m wondering why this paragraph about hydration is so fucking impossible to stay on track for. I literally drink several litres of water a day, and more tea on top of that. And sometimes an almond milk latte if I can budget it in. Not that I’m so anorexic I can’t afford a 45cal latte. They’re just not that important to me. Anyhow. Drinking lukewarm (on the cool side) water is better than ice-cold. Partially because I just get it out of the tap of my ensuite and I can’t be bothered to wait for it to run cold enough every time, and it just seems wasteful. Plus, there is something so.. skinny about drinking water at an “obscure” temperature. Trust me, I want to know why my thought process is like this too. My favorite tea is blueberry tea foraged in a side aisle at my local supermarket. I love a good commercial, high-end steep or fruit infusion as much as the next girl. Maybe more. My pantry is filled with tins labelled with things like “emerald jade organic” and “magic potion”, which is really just currants and butterfly pea flowers. But there is a necessary glamor about drinking dirt-cheap tea on the daily. Seriously, a box of 25 sachets is like, $3. At a higher point with my, um, Adderall problem, I spent like several times that on pills. I didn’t really need to include that, and could have linked the price point to the cost of a drugstore lipbalm, but I wrote it in. And I’m married to it, stubbornly, as all amateur writers should be when they wittle in a somewhat indecorous little joke. This tea is sooo good because it has a strong fruit-reminiscent taste (not as sweet as a fresh blueberry, but who wants that anyway?), it’s zero-calorie, it’s the most GORGEOUS color ever. The latte, the third drink in my little trifecta, is nothing special. But necessary. The trick is to use a milk frother to whip up sugar free syrup with instant coffee and a little bit of hot water in a glass. It’ll make the most luscious foam.. Top it off with almond milk. My dad is a coffee purist, owning both an upstairs keurig AND a downstairs one (among other more analogue methods, but I can’t name-drop, so what’s the point?), so he hates this drink. Now, calling oneself a plebian is so unglamorous and teetering on self-deprecating territory, dangerously close to insecurity. But I can use it here because I am at least posh enough to have a different pair of earrings for every outfit I could possibly come up with, and I only wear Patagonia if I am in a situation where I just have to wear fleece. Like I was saying. It’s such a simple drink, certainly not a delicacy, and… I had a joke about the word plebian but I keep getting up to refill my water and I fear I have forgotten about it. 

Next section; the importance of a good tinted balm

In the intro I alluded to how a girl’s collarbones function essentially as an identifier, the way a signature or fingerprint does. This is a lie, or at least an exaggeration. But one’s ultimate tinted lipbalm is  actually extremely indicative about who you are, as a person, as a member of society, even… 

If you are loyal to Dior Lipglow, I have a couple questions. One; did you shoplift one tube, once, and refill it with cheaper stuff afterwards? I did that. I consider it one of my better-kept secrets, but now you know. Might as well explain the catalyst for my parent’s first separation now, and the horrifying experience that was meeting my dad’s Manhattan sugar baby (?) at the age of thirteen, wearing an overalls dress from, like, Topshop or something else equally embarrassing. .. Kidding. I digress. It’s such a fancy lipbalm, and good too! It smells like thin mints! But I could just never justify cell phone monthly installation payment money on something I will inevitably talk off. I do own three, but two I stole (before I lost the nerve, somewhat unfortunately) and one, a boy(not)friend bought for me. This is not something I feel any remorse about, because his house was easily four thousand square feet and his sisters had a dedicated all-glass room for their shared peloton. Oil money. Ugh!

My personal favorite lip balm, and I have tried a frightening amount, has got to be the Nivea Fruit Shine collection. The frosted one is shit-ugly. Hideous. But the strawberry one is the love of my life. It’s such a pleasant red, looking healthy and rejuvenated and really completes any look. Only downside is it will always, hopefully not always, remind me of Charles. Kissing Charles, specifically. And him asking me what lipbalm it was, because he knew I was somewhat frivolous and definitive and would have a very long answer. But for whatever reason, I simply stated it was from “out of town”. Not really sure why I said that, but it plagues me (minorly) to this day. Of all the things to make up.. .. The peach one is a perfectly demure spring classic shade. Cherry exists too, but the only tube I have ever had the fortune of owning was purchased in Costa Rica and lost somewhere on the way home. Honestly tragic, it was the juiciest shade. Blackberry is perfect too, but I have to layer it with either peach or untinted lipbalm to avoid what I imagine TooPoor would choose if she believed in tinted lipbalm. I don’t mean this hatefully, I think she’s a queen, but super dark, smudgy makeup suits the eyes better in my opinion. Or something. Or something.

Afraid to bore the reader, I have to move on now. Maybe at a later date I will release an addendum on my ultimate lipbalm buying guide. But also, that is so deeply personal (and everyone needs the excuse of “hunting for the perfect staple shade!!”), so it is really not my place to have any authority on something so intimate and subjective. Etcetera. 

Moving on; Decorating your room

Here is a section I lifted out of my memoir document. It fits, because as enigmatic as I hope I am, I am also quite unchanging.

 I just pushed three hangers and two tiny strappy tops with the tags still on, off my bed. Most nights, all, these days, actually; I spend in my large but cluttered bedroom. I have a little ensuite with a jetted tub I’ve never used because I just never get around to it. There’s a plush grey rug, spanning the expanse of the room (covering an ugly cherry wood that doesn’t match the rest of the house; no clue why. I never asked, and the previous owners were eager to sell so they could finally ditch this town and retire in Montreal for the bagels, or Hawaii for the monk seals. Point is, I’ll never know) with loose beads and loose pills and little shards of glass from plier-crushed beads. I vacuum every day. The whole room tells you exactly the kind of person I am; the clutter I possess, the encapsulation of the projects I start, start, start and the hours I don’t sleep for and the clothes I tried on (these to sell, these to cut up with kitchen scissors; thrifted lululemon and aritzia and heaps of knits and plaid fabric..) I would not say the room is a mess. Lived in, maybe. Chopsticks and mugs and gum wrappers. Single dangle earrings. I just finished the last of my Creme Brulee eos lipbalm; disguised as a relic of 2015, I was gifted it Christmas of ‘20. I think my next waxy conquest will be a tinted Burt’s one I palmed a while back, before I lost the nerve. Peering around the room you will see shopping bags strewn about the mouth of my walk-in closet. Every surface has something shiny or colorful stacked up on it. Cluttered, busy, but intentional. Except for the walls, which are bare. Bare and gray and miles-tall when I lie flat on my back, high out of my mind, willing things to change but knowing I’m responsible for a first step I will always be too scared for. Bare, pristine, no gumtack. Empty, Like they’re waiting. I wait around a lot. It makes sense. That was an awful lot of words about my stupid blank walls when truly it does not bother me that much; I really just don’t get around to it. I have other things on the ground to tend to, like post-email nausea, addressing envelopes, marrying wire and bead.  Writing a document I care about because I am determined and I am alive, alive, alive, goddammit. 

Excerpt over. The memoir is coming out when I get famous, or something earth shattering happens. Like I become the world’s least remarkable entrepreneur, and I get retweeted by Colorpop. I don’t want to be the next Elizabeth Wurtzel. I read two of her memoirs one restless night, absorbing it to make up for the nutrients I didn’t that day (you can laugh. I think that is pretty clever), heart breaking a little bit. She writes about her struggles so intrinsically, you either get it, or you don’t. Anyway. She had the books and the fame from it, and she wrote more memoirs than I think a single person should. That is admirable. Aspirational, even. But I do not want to be like her. Where was I? Oh. Yes. Decorating/adorning/filling your room. Your room should serve as the kind of place to watch a movie (if you believe in film. I don’t) and put on ridiculous glittery eye makeup, or smoke an ~artistic cigarette~ or stay up all night on the phone, which is different from staying up all night simply on your phone. Chatting with someone you are tepidly in love with is much more exciting. Not chic as the whole affair is so juvenile, but fun regardless. It’s somewhere to keep your worldly possessions, too. I know I have a lot! Also, it is kind of thrilling to hide things in your room in little crevices only you know about. Now, unfortunately, everyone reading this will know too. But, like, I trust you not to really.. do anything about it. I keep my extra juul pods in the sliding box my apple pencil came in. That box is almost more useful than the pencil itself. I’m somewhat morally opposed to the iPad. Whole culture is so embarrassing! I have a tea tin with an ounce of golden teacher shrums in it. This is tossed in my closet among tins filled with other things, like lace trim and buttons. Which makes it actually a pretty terrible hiding spot, I see now… Anyhow. Keeping benign little secrets like that is so fun. You can tell I don’t have siblings. I sort of wish I did, but it is easier to believe there is something aristocratic about being an only child. Not sure if older-sister me would be egalitarian enough to share things. But that’s prophesying, which is kind of a waste of time. I live in the now, in a room positively cluttered with meaningless things that mean the world to me, chewing on my lip because my mouth is just so dry and 5gum is just not an after-8 indulgence. To live truly kitschly, you have to have somewhat hideous decor. Now, do not confuse dissonant, or incoherent, with what I mean by “hideous decor”. The kitsch room has as many surfaces to look at as possible, while also shying away from too many shelving units. Then you risk your room looking like a storage unit or something. When my mom renovated (re: paid someone to do it) our New York house so we could sell it, all our stuff was stacked up in a Cubesmart self storage. It was sort of horrifying, seeing my childhood home reduced to plastic storage tubs piled what felt like thirty feet high. Anyway. It’s just not an  inviting way to store things; I imagine it makes your room look like your stuff is all trapped in gelatin. The more fussy, tiny things you have out in the open, the better. Nail polish. Earring trees. Bowls full of rings and lighters and water color pans perched on your windowsill. A rack with the tackiest assortment of knits and bucket hats and baguette bags. And so forth.. Quickly surveying someone’s room is so telling. Bonus points if all your books are spine-in, except for your favorite ones, because you don’t want people to get the wrong idea. (that you read). 

[hiccanna-tidbits]

okay, okay but hear me out!

Hiccanna, Moanida and Jackunzel (and maybe someone else if u want) going on a holiday trip together (it could be sea or lake or just swimming pool).

And that three couples playing "chicken fight game"~ When u have to sit on partner shoulder or ridding piggy-back and knock down or separate the other couple!

sksksks just imagine the fun and the chaos!! hahaha

Okay SO I recently watched Palm Springs so I’m just imagining The Gang going to like…a fancy pool resort in like Arizona??? SURE LET’S GO WITH THAT

I’m imagining the only resort the gang could afford to stay at is someplace out in the middle of Arizona or something

It takes a LOT of persuading to get Jack to go, because he haaaaates deserts. Rapunzel basically has to beg. Moana finally managed to bribe him with really good homemade ice slushies. (She’s used to making smoothies for Merida, so how hard can slushies be??? Just throw in some ice!)

Rapunzel offers to help Moana with the slushies, since she gave Jack SO many puppy dog eyes to get him to come. Since they’ve got two people working on them, they’re REALLY good slushies. Jack approves.

Anna also tries to convince Elsa to go, but the perpetually-single Elsa is just like “Um, deserts? Sunburns? Being indefinitely stuck with gross couples doing gross couple stuff?!? Yeah no thank you”

Hiccup tries to wake everyone up at like 6 am to go hiking because "that's when the desert iguanas are out guys!!! C'mon, we have to go!!!" Anna is only persuaded to go after Hiccup makes her coffee--she really wants to make her bf happy, but also mornings can suck her dick. Rapunzel is more than happy to go, because she loves mornings anyways!!! And oh my god, IGUANAS!!! Jack, Merida, and Moana are like "oh FUCK no" and put the pillow back over their head, shoo Hiccup away, and go back to sleep.

On their hike, Hiccup just goes "!!!!!!!" about every reptile he sees. Snake, lizard, horny toad, literally anything with scales will send the boy into an excited frenzy. Rapunzel has similar reactions. Anna could not love both of them more.

At one point, they stumble across a gila monster sunbathing, and Rapunzel is overtaken with the unwavering desire to adopt him. She gets Hiccup on board, and he tries to lure the lizard over with a dusty piece of a snake carcass he found (Anna tried to tell him he really shouldn't touch that, but he was not to be swayed and Anna ended up figuring he could just wash his hands really well when they got back). Anna finds herself in the unusual position of having to be the Voice of Reason, having to be like “hey uh I think this might be illegal and stuff??? Also aren't they poisonous???”

(I know what you're thinking. Bold of you to assume Anna knows the difference between poisonous and venomous.)

Rapunzel literally CANNOT stop gushing to Jack about all the wildlife she saw when she gets back! Jackrabbits! Kangaroo rats! Roadrunners! Peccaries! Centipedes! Jack has only mild to moderate interest in desert ecology, but loves hearing his gf gush so he listens attentively anyways. 

Anna and Rapunzel definitely hit up the gift shops in the resort town at some point, and go ABSOLUTELY BATSHIT HOGWILD buying gifts for everyone. They probably max out their credit cards. It's embarrassing, really. But Anna gets Hiccup an absolute shitton of those little wall lizard things and he nearly cries tears of joy when he sees them, so it's all worth it, really.

Moana will not leave the pool like. The entire time. The girl is just obsessed with being in the water, honestly. She gets restless, though, and can't just stand in the pool and vibe--she needs to constantly be moving and swimming around or she'll explode. Merida is more than happy to indulge her by hanging out in the poor with her, but Merida is also constantly challenging her to swim races--a very dumb idea, considering Moana is on the high school swim team and water polo team. Merida, naturally, is an extremely sore loser and is not above excessive pouting, splashing, yelling in angry Scottish, and dunking her girlfriend in revenge. It's at least entertaining for all of their friends to watch.

Jack keeps fucking taking huge buckets of ice from the ice machine and dumping them in the pool. At first he only does this because he keeps griping about the pool not being cold enough (this boy will accept nothing less than sitting in the goddamn arctic ocean), but after her figures out that it pisses off his friends, he takes to pouring said ice directly over their heads. Merida has threatened to murder him several times for this.

Hiccup and Anna's main pool activity is just lazing around on their pool floaties (Anna has a duck one, Hicccup has a dragon one because obviously), sipping cocktails, and just generally vibing. Through some ungodly mixture of pure charisma and a fake ID that Rapunzel helped photoshop, Jack manages to talk his way into getting the whole group access to alcohol. Hiccup is a sangria or Moscow Mule kinda guy while Anna usually gets a Pina Colada or a Sex on the Beach (she's aspec, so she literally will not stop joking about the irony of this). Merida makes a game out of attempting to tip over their floaties and dunk them. Jack, chaos gremlin that he is, puts aside his usual rivalry with Merida to join in. They have a surprisingly strong dunking alliance.

Hiccup and Anna try to form a syndicate of their own, and try to lounge on the same floatie so that they can protect each other while fighting off Jack and Merida together. Unfortunately neither of their floaties were made to hold 2 peoples' weight, so the one they're on ends up tipping over, spilling their cocktails everywhere and dunking them anyways. Jack and Merida consider this a Win By Default.

Moana of course loops everyone into playing water polo at some point. Unfortunately some idiot decided it would be a good idea to let Merida of all people pick the teams, which means of course that they are incredibly rigged. It's Moana, Merida and Anna vs. Jack, Rapunzel, and Hiccup, so basically The Jocks vs. The Nerds (although admittedly Anna is more of a softcore jock--she's nowhere near on Moana or Merida's level, but she's still more naturally athletic than Hiccup, Rapunzel, or Jack). Naturally, Jock Team absolutely whoops Nerd Team's ass. Jack gets salty and demands a rematch. ...Jock Team kicks Nerd Team's ass again.

Throughout all of this, no one thinks to just...rearrange the teams a little. Merida was counting on this. All according to plan.

In the titular chicken game (yes, I remembered, don't worry!), it's Merida on Moana's shoulders (Moana swims and has a lot of upper body strength, what can I say?), Hiccup on Anna's shoulders (I mean...Hiccup's a twig, and Anna HAS to have a fair amount of upper body strength from throwing busts around and punching men off boats and such), and Punz on Jack's shoulders (Jack's pretty lithe and good at keeping his balance while jumping around, so he's their best candidate for not just falling over).

Jack and Rapunzel actually manage to stay in the game longer than anyone expects--their primary strategy is “be good at dodging and staying out of the way while Merida and Hiccup duke it out.” And it works! As limber as Hiccup is, Anna's not nearly as coordinated as Jack and is no match for Moana's sturdy footing. Also, neither Anna nor Hiccup are prepared for how goddamn ruthless and determined to win Merida is. Even though they really, really should have been. I mean...have you met Merida???

When it comes down to Merida-Moana and Rapunzel-Jack, Mer feels a little bad for having to go up against Pure Sweet Punzie. Unfortunately, Rapunzel turns out to be a very hardcore fighter when she puts her mind to it, and Merida is much more evenly matched than she initially thought and realizes she must use her Full Power. It definitely helps her snap out of Going Soft when Jack starts brutally roasting Merida in particular (as per usual). Merida gets a rage-fueled Second Wave, and finally manages to knock Rapunzel over in one foul swoop. Merida and Moana are victorious!

Moana and Merida basically always shower together after a day at the pool. They claim it's because they both know how to handle curly hair in chlorine, and just like to wash each other's hair, but the rest of the gang is pretty sure that's not all that's going on in there.

One day, Anna hits up the resort town alone to buy some kind of secret gifts for her friends with what little money she has left (this girl seriously has no chill when it comes to buying presents).  She goes past this huge, fancy ice cream shop and she's like “!!!! OMG!!! I'm gonna surprise all my buddies with pints of their faves!!!” She just gets super hyped and buys everyone ice cream, getting so caught up in the thrill of it that she forgets that she'll have to like. Drive all this back all the way back to the resort in the rental car. In like. You know. 110+ degree weather.

By the time she gets back to the resort, the ice cream is, of course, goop. Poor Anna, feeling incredibly dumb and like an utter failure of a friend, just kind of bursts into tears. Like damn. This is too much. She was gonna make all her pals so happy, and all for naught! Jack just kinda shrugs and throws all the melted ice cream cartons in the freezer anyways. Once they're (partially) re-frozen, Rapunzel and Moana make slushies with them. They actually come out pretty decent. Anna is substantially cheered up.

Moana prepares some tropical fruit platters for everyone to snack on. Rapunzel tries to “improve” them by adding chocolate sauce and nutella to half of them. Sometimes it works (I mean...bananas and strawberries with chocolate and/or nutella is pretty solid). Other times it just tastes...very weird. Merida gest frustrated and yells at Rapunzel for “ruining all of her girlfriend's good mangoes.”

Jack just thinks this whole thing is so funny, and decides to swap the chocolate sauce with barbecue sauce to cause further chaos. Absolute mayhem ensures. Everyone has a bad time. Except for Anna, who apparently is just a freak who enjoys eating pineapple slices dipped in barbecue sauce.

At some point, Merida gets really drunk on appletinis or some shit and signs the entire group up for a local archery competition. Much to everyone's chagrin, it's no refunds. Naturally, basically everyone sans Merida does terrible. Rapunzel and Hiccup very nearly shoot themselves, while Jack and Anna come very close to  accidentally shooting a group of referees (although Jack might have done this on purpose). Moana gets the farthest, if only because Merida's taught her how to shoot a bow at some point. Merida actually ends up winning--although unfortunately, the prize is $20 and a very cheap plastic trophy (which Merida STILL manages to find a way to break before the trip is even over).

The rest of the group is much more amicable to the concept of going on hikes when said hikes are in the evening. Hiccup and Rapunzel are still excitedly chattering about the local ecosystems the entire time, and Jack and Anna are just kind of looking at their nerdy SOs like “<3 <3 <3″ Moana and Merida, meanwhile, are just kinda vibing in the back, passively listening in and watching the desert sunset.

Rapunzel manages to capture Mer and Mo's interest and gets them to participate more with geology, of all things. Merida just thinks rocks are cool (especially when they can be thrown at people bothering her!), while Moana likes learning about the physical history of places--how water can carve out landscapes, and all that. Hiccup and Jack just kind of exchange a look like “I had no idea that they were into rocks, but...the more you know, I guess???”

Jack makes fun of every reptile they see, mainly to piss Hiccup off. Unfortunately it has the opposite effect, and Hiccup can't help but be entertained--mainly because Jack's insults are so weirdly specific and over-the-top that they loop around to being hilarious. Seriously, he keeps saying shit like “Those are the lamest scales I've ever seen. Absolutely drab, and not nearly shiny enough to prove that nature is beautiful. 0/10.” and “Ohhhh, this fucking rattlesnake think's he's so scary, with his dumb percussion instrument tail!!! I could be more intimidating with a mean look and a large pair of maracas!”

At some point, a bunch of tourists riding donkeys pass them. Anna, Rapunzel, and Merida just absolutely lose their shit fangirling over how cute the donkeys are, thus exposing all three of them as the unabashed Horse Girls they are. Hiccup, Jack, and Moana find this extremely amusing, and definitely aren't above teasing their girlfriends about it. Hiccup asks if next time they take a couples' vacation, the Horse Gang (as Moana insists on nicknaming them) would like to go to a ranch instead.

Anna gets like. Obsessed with palm trees. Like they're just so pretty and exotic and tropical!!! OMG!!! And they definitely don't have them wherever the gang is from in this AU. (Also if griping about Elsa not having "tropical powers" is anything to go by, she DOES canonically like the tropics!) She has to take a picture of like...every palm tree on her phone. And considering the gang is in Arizona, that means Anna is stopping to take a picture like...every 2 minutes. Rapunzel catches onto the fact that Anna likes them, and paints her a picture with some when Punz has the time. Anna definitely cries when she sees it. Hiccup can't do nearly that good, but he does buy her some little plastic figurine ones in a gift shop that she can put in her room. Anna also cries about this. She just cries whenever any of her friends indulge her random fixation on palm trees. Surely she doesn't deserve such niceties!!!

Rapunzel is just. In love with the desert landscape tbh. Like the huge funky cacti!!! The shrubs!!! The desert wildflowers!!! The mesas!!! All of it!!! So of course she needs to pull out her easel and paint it. Jack walks by one day and sees her working on it and, partly just to troll her, he's like “put some snow in it!” As he walks away, Rapunzel just stops like “wait...that'd actually be such a great idea for a surrealist-type fantasy piece!!!” After she finishes the main landscape, she adds an overcoat of little puffs of snow on top of everything, and has some clumps falling off of the cacti. When she shows Jack, he just about cries tears of joy, but frantically tries to hide it. She gives the painting to him as a present at the end of the trip. He hangs that shit front-in-center in his room and cherishes it forever and ever.

At some point, Jack gets the ingenious idea that he's going to prank Merida by catching a tarantula and leaving it in her room. It's one of the harmless ones--Jack fact-checks this by offhandedly asking Hiccup and framing it as a casual interest in local etymology. Still, Merida screams far louder than is at all dignified, and also probably loud enough to wake a neighboring country. Rapunzel later has to physically hold Merida back to keep her from absolutely beating Jack into a pulp. Rapunzel also manages to get the World's Largest Sheet of Cardboard and the World's Largest Cup and somehow manages to get the damn thing back outside.

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 10: Dukexiety

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 10: You are born with a birthmark, similar to a tattoo, that is shared by your soulmate.

Content warnings: allusions to past suicidal thoughts, just bad mental health past in general, vague bullying, swimming pools, past isolation, minor injury (broken ribs), general anxiety and self deprecation.

Word count: 3.9k

I was very low on time, and very exhausted from work, so I tried something new! I first discovered the concept of ‘bullet fics’ from @illogicallyinclined ‘s hockey au, GO CHECK IT OUT!!! (It’s living in my head rent free for a couple months now)

Virgil, Patton, Logan, and Roman have been friends for as long as they can remember. The first three met at a neighborhood barbecue when they were just a couple years old, and since they all live on the same block, became each other’s go to play buddies. They all stuck together in their first years of school together, the unbreakable trio, and then they met Roman. Or, Roman was pulled into their clutches and was therefore part of the group now. Patton saw him getting bullied across the playground and ran in to help, and now Roman is ‘eternally in their debt’. But they like him, so his extravagance is okay. 

They hung out constantly, all throughout middle and highschool, and they graduated together. It was a big moment for all of them; Patton, who almost got left a grade behind several times (his dyslexia went undiagnosed for several years and he was simply categorized as ‘dumb’), Virgil, who almost didn’t make it due to a mental health crisis, Logan, who was pressured heavily by his parents to move up a grade and had to fight tooth and nail to stay with his friends, and Roman, who’s bullying problems didn’t exactly lessen through the years, and was more than relieved to be leaving that behind. 

That summer, they pledge (mostly by Roman’s pleading) to try and do something fun every day. While Logan says this is improbable and Virgil groans at the thought of spending every day socializing, Patton is excited for the idea and “it’s two against two so you have to at least try!”

“That logic doesn’t make sense-” “Shut it, teach, just let us have this.”

So far, they’ve gone to the amusement park just out of town, gone to the park too many times to count, visited their local arcade that they hadn’t even stepped foot into since middle school, and tie-dyed a variety of clothing items in Patton’s backyard. Today, Patton is forcing them all to go to the pool, despite Logan claiming that they’re “feces infested, germ nesting grounds” and Virgil’s argument that “he burns like an unwatched pot of milk, how can you expect this from me”, Patton’s little puppy eyes do them all in.

Unfortunately, just as they’re leaving for the pool, Roman gets a call. At first it’s civil, and then his voice raises, and then he’s hanging up and throwing his phone onto his seat from where he’s standing next to the open car door. Angrily, he tells his friends that his mom got called into work and his dad’s on a business trip, so they need to take his brother with them.

At first, this raises some confusion.

“I was not under the impression that you had a little brother.”

“How old is he? Either way, I say, the more the merrier!”

Virgil is not thrilled at the idea of babysitting, since kids generally don’t like him, but he doesn’t voice his displeasure. 

Roman has to admit, with much embarrassment, that it’s actually his twin, who is just so chaotically irresponsible that he has lost Home Alone Privileges. He’s broken the TV, accidentally started fires, and lost their dog one too many times and his parents said no more. 

So he drives all the way back to his house, the three friends crammed into the back seat of his two door sedan (because the seats are A Pain to raise and lower and it makes more sense to give said brother the front seat instead of rearranging when they get him), grumbling under his breath about his stupid brother, stupid work, stupid stupid stupid-

Virgil is apt to agree with him, because if being around his three closest friends is enough interaction to mentally exhaust him, adding a new person to the mess is so much worse. He’s generally unexcited to meet this new person… until they pull up to the driveway.

And holy heck. 

This man is GORGEOUS. 

It takes a second for him to realize it’s Roman’s brother, because despite his first assumption, the two are not identical. They’re very similar, obviously related, for sure, but they are surprisingly easy to tell apart, and it’s not just because of the silver streak in the brother’s hair.

Which he should not find as hot as he does.

After Roman insists said brother does need to go get a bathing suit and no you can not go swimming in your jeans, he jumps into the passenger seat and, with as much energy as Roman has at Full Potential, introduces himself as Remus to the backseat audience. 

Patton and Logan both say small hello’s, but Virgil is just stuck.

Dear lord. Princey, why have you been hiding him from me?

When they get to the pool, Virgil makes a complete fool of himself getting out of the car. He trips on his seatbelt, landing directly in Remus’ arms, and looks up to see this devil man grinning at him with all the hubris of a greek god. Before he can say anything, Virgil pushes himself up and rolls his eyes (all while internally screaming) and walks away, joining Patton and Logan where they are just entering the main gate. 

He can’t help it; when in proximity of cuteness, his emergency mode is “be a dick”.

But it only gets worse from there.

When Virgil has an umbrella properly set up above a chair so he can save his skin from the sun (“I burn like unwatched milk on a stove. I’m not going in.”) and is comfortably situated with his phone and iced coffee, Remus steps in front of him to take his shirt off. 

He’s pretty sure Remus didn’t even mean to. It just… happened to be directly in his line of sight. 

As soon as the shirt is above his head, Virgil chokes on his drink, squirting iced coffee out of his nose and going into a coughing fit. Patton rubs his back while Roman tries not to laugh (and fails miserably), all while Remus is just watching him. Confused. (Logan is in the change rooms, because he insists on not wearing his bathing suit unless he is actively about to swim)

There’s more than just the sun issue that prevents Virgil from swimming. While his friend’s soulmarks are relatively small (Roman has a little one on his neck, Logan and Patton have a shared one just above their ankles), Virgil’s is a huge splotch that covers his entire side, reaching from just above his top rib to where his waistband usually lies. It’s all squiggles and lumps; Virgil once compared it to a storm cloud, but the lightning streaks were tentacles. It’s all in all, just… A Mess. And he doesn’t really like it. No one he’s ever met has had a soulmark like that, and he hates standing out.

When Remus takes off his shirt, in all his muscled glory, Virgil can’t miss the matching soulmark that trails down Remus’ side. It’s his, no doubt about it, but… that can’t be right, can it? Remus is so… full of life, dangerous, the epitome of chaotic; he’s everything Virgil is not. More so, he’s terrified of what Remus must think of him. He’s nothing special, he’s just an anxious ball of angst. What if he’s disappointed in who the universe decided to stick him with? 

After he’s done choking on iced coffee, and Logan is back from the change room, he realizes Remus is long gone, in the deep end of the pool trying to gather as many foam noodles as he can. They check that Virgil is alright, and when he merely gives them a shaky thumbs up, they take it at face value and dive in. Except Logan, who uses the steps like a mature adult, you children. 

He lets the rest of his coffee sit in the sun, until the sun melts all the ice cubes and it’s lukewarm to touch and overall, just gross, because suddenly he has no appetite. Yeah, this guy is gorgeous and he’s hopelessly gay for him, but... soulmate? That’s a lot for anyone to take in, much less someone with forty seven different kinds of anxiety. /j

If Virgil was uneasy taking his shirt off before, he sure as hell isn’t doing it now. No matter how much Patton and Roman plead with him, he stays glued to his chair, eyes flickering from his friends playing Marco Polo to watching his soulmate Remus. He’s turned the pool noodles into a giant raft and is trying to balance on it, like an absolute idiot.

An extremely good looking idiot. 

Virgil can’t help but notice that… he’s all alone. Roman, Patton, and Logan barely even throw him the occasional glance, much less invite him to hang out with them in the water. Worse than that, he seems relatively fine with it. It could just be that he doesn’t want to intrude on his brother’s friend group, but Remus doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to have those boundaries. Which kind of insinuates that he’s used to being alone, and Virgil can’t help but empathize. 

He notices it a lot, actually. The group meeting Remus also coincides with Roman and Virgil becoming more close; less of a frenemy relationship, and more of an actual friendship. Patton is delighted, because this means the three of them get to hang out at Roman’s huge place more often without their constant bickering (because when it got bad at one of their houses, Virgil’s was never more than a ten minute walk away when Roman finally pushed his last button. Here, they were all stuck.)

And every time they go over, he can’t help but notice the loud music coming from Remus’ room, or the man just sitting on the couch watching TV (which he tends to do shirtless, which does not help Virgil at all), or irritating Roman’s parrot. All in all, doing things alone. It strikes a chord in Virgil’s heart, which is something he’d never admit to another person.

Maybe that’s why, in the following week when Roman has the grand idea to go on a mountain hike, Virgil quietly asks if they could invite Remus. At first, Roman is adamant. “He’ll just ruin things, he doesn’t appreciate nature, he’s annoying!” But Patton claims “The more the merrier” and Logan doesn’t have any particular stance, so he begrudgingly invites Remus.

Who very excitedly accepts. 

The trail Roman visited is quite a ways out of town, so they cram back into his tiny car and start the drive. Patton claimed shotgun, so him and Roman have derailed into an animated conversation about cartoons, while Logan just pops in his earbuds and leans his head against the window. For the longest time, Remus and Virgil sit in awkward silence, because neither of them could get a word in edgewise to the front seat conversation even if they tried, and they don’t… really… know what to say… to each other. 

It’s Remus who finally breaks the silence (shocker).

“Roman tells more you’re the one who wanted to invite me.”

“Yeah, well, you seemed lonely. And… I mean, you’re Roman’s brother. Can you really be that bad?”

He means it as a joke, but he sees the light in Remus’ eyes die slightly. The tone of his voice doesn’t falter though, remaining as joyful and quirky as always. 

“I’m a lot more fun than Roman. People just don’t like to see it that way.”

“Setting your kitchen curtains on fire is fun?”

“If you were there, you’d understand!”

And they keep talking, maybe trailing into borderline flirting, for the whole ride. Virgil is surprised at the lack of tenseness in his shoulders, because though Remus is loud and a little unsettling, he is incredibly patient when Virgil has trouble forming his sentences and doesn’t interrupt him when he’s talking; an incredible help to someone with crippling anxiety. Underneath his exterior, he’s actually… incredibly soft? What?

By the time they pull up to the trail, Remus is actually starting to grow on Virgil. Since Patton and Roman are still so into their debate, and Logan seems content listening to his music (or podcast, but who really knows), they continue talking as the hike starts. The shorter boy can’t help but glance at the other every few seconds, seeing their soulmark just peeking past the edge of his baggy tank top. If Remus notices, he says nothing. 

And he learns Remus was bullied a lot through school, just like Roman was, but instead of finding a group that supported him, he broke off as a lone wolf. He came off scary or maybe just a little bit crazy to anyone he tried to befriend, since his social skills were pretty lacking due to disuse and his incredible lack of filter, so he learned early that staying alone hurt less. And in that time, he just became more and more… Like That… because he literally never had peers to mature with. 

The hike is a long one. Remus is pretty eager to spill his guts, probably since he was never able to before, so Virgil feels obligated to do the same. He tells Remus about his anxiety, about his mental health issues during school, about his home life and his hobbies, and the fact that there are more people around just fades into the background. It could as well be just them, and Virgil starts to wish it was. 

So of course, that’s when everything goes to shit.

A mountain biker comes ripping down the path, too quick to even process, and Virgil is caught off guard. Of course, he’s not walking near the edge of the path, because he has some shred of common sense, but the bike speeding by him causes him to flinch and stumble to the side; an instinctual reaction. Except his instincts decided to not remember until the last second that he’s at the edge of the trail.

It’s almost like happening in slow motion, his foot goes over the edge, and he doesn’t realize what’s about to happen until his other foot is already off the ground, ready to take that next step back, and he’s falling. Luckily (as lucky as one can be in this situation), it’s not a straight drop, just a decently long, steep slope that’s essentially just a bunch of rocks and weeds. 

He hears his friends scream his name, sees a hand fly out to catch him, and it just snags the edge of his jacket before he’s freefalling for a split moment. One heart stopping, never ending, eternal and all too short moment of weightlessness where he twists his body, hoping to try and brace himself, and then he meets the slope.

Hard.

His breath leaves him in a wheeze and he distinctly hears a loud snap. Through his pain addled brain, he tries to stop his slide further down by grabbing anything; rocks, roots, dirt. It’s useless.

He stops naturally, on a small ledge several meters from the top before the slope continues. For a moment, he can only lay there, trying to breathe through the intense pain flaring through him pretty much everywhere, not to mention the sheer levels of pure panic numbing his thoughts. He stares at the clouds, watching them as they float by, each breath spreading fire through his torso but at the same time strangely numb.

And then, “VIRGIL!”

His eyes shoot open (wait, when did he close them?) to see Remus’ concerned face above his. If the messied state of his outfit is any indication, this man just slid down the slope to catch up to him. His hands are hovering above Virgil, scared to touch, but more scared that Virgil is going to keep falling.

“Fuck,” is Virgil’s eloquent response. He tries to take a deep breath, tries to do his breathing pattern to calm his nerves, but NOPE. Wrong move. 

He immediately gasps and his hands fly to his ribs, another flair of pain shooting up them. Remus’ hands grab his, pulling them away from his torso, holding them securely. “I think you have some broken ribs. That was… one hell of a fall. We need to get you back up to the trail though, okay?”

Virgil can only nod his head, allowing Remus to help him stand, biting his lip so hard to keep from crying out that his lip splits. It hurts.

Trust Logan to come up with ideas on the fly. The biker must have stopped when he realized Virgil had fallen (at least he didn’t just keep driving), because when Virgil opened his tear filled eyes, there was a bike tire just a few feet from his face. He followed the frame of the bike, up to where Roman was holding the other wheel and standing precariously on the slope. Logan is clinging onto his hand, one foot on the slope and one on the actual trail, and if Virgil has to guess, the biker and Patton are just out of sight, keeping Logan steady. 

Virgil knows it’s going to hurt before Remus even warns him that it will, watching the taller man get a good grip on the bike wheel, before holding Virgil’s wrist with as much force that can muster without actively cutting off circulation. Virgil holds onto his wrist in return, Remus gives a shout to go ahead, and the human/bike chain they’ve created begins to pull them up. 

And oh lord, if Virgil thought just laying down was painful, tripping and stumbling up a steep incline is another world altogether. This time, biting his lip doesn’t work and he lets out a few muffled cries as the team works together, Remus squeezing his wrist every time a choked sound escapes his lips, mind too full of pure agony to even curse.

When they finally step foot onto the trail again, Virgil is in tears, and he is too far gone to even care. The biker is incredibly apologetic, offering his contact information and bidding them adieu when they insist that they’re okay now, and takes off, at an admittedly much slower pace than he was at before. 

Logan, the only one of them with proper (and extensive) first aid training, forces Virgil to sit, giving him time to find a position that puts as little pressure on his ribs as possible, before crouching in front of him.

“Let me check if they’re broken.”

His hand reaches out towards Virgil’s shirt and all the alarm bells start BLARING. No. No, no, no, no, no. Before he can restrain himself, he reaches out and slaps Logan’s hand away, sending another wave of pain through him. The pain doesn’t matter though, not in comparison to Logan possibly revealing his soulmark. 

Logan doesn’t understand this reaction properly (when does he ever), so he tries again.

“Virgil, I need to check the extent of the damage. A cracked rib means you can still make it back to the car. A broken rib would require emergency services and probable air lifting to prevent further damage, like a punctured lung.”

“Fine,” Virgil hisses through clenched teeth, bitterly understanding his logic, “Just… don’t take the shirt off.”

He tries to say it to only Logan, but it’s clear the other’s heard it by the way they exchange confused glances. Yes, they’ve never seen Virgil without a shirt, except they’d always pegged that up to insecurities. Wouldn’t those take a back seat in a possible medical emergency? 

Logan complies, however, and slides his hand under the hem of his shirt without moving the fabric. He runs his hands slowly up each rib, concentrating heavily, until he reaches one midway up and Virgil yelps, instinctively flinching backwards.

Startled by the reaction (it’s his first time actually administering first aid like this, give him a break), Logan jumps back, forgetting his hand is still under Virgil’s shirt.

His hand moves up.

Virgil moves back.

And the hem of his shirt rises up his chest for just a moment.

A moment’s all that’s needed, though. When you notice something that you’ve seen yourself a hundred times over, admiring this way and that in the mirror to commit it to memory, it only takes a glance to recognize it.

Remus only needed that split second of the shirt riding up to notice the lower half of the soulmark, and he definitely did notice it, if the way his jaw drops is anything to go off of. Virgil winces again, not from pain this time, and looks down at his shoes, abhorring the awkward silence that ensues.

The other three don’t understand, watching the two of them with varying levels of confusion, until Remus blurts:

“Are you my soulmate?”

And everything clicks into place. Virgil nods mutely, still not looking up, afraid of his reaction. Would he be upset Virgil kept it a secret? Would he be disappointed? Would he would he would he-

“Oh thank GOD!”

That’s… not the reaction he was expecting. He looks up to see Remus grinning like a child on their birthday, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I mean, if I’d want anyone to be my soulmate, it would be you! You don’t hate me, which a lot of people do, and you actually listen to me, which is nice, and not to mention you’re super hot, like the whole emo thing is just-”

“Remus!” Roman screeches, cutting him off, “You’re embarrassing him, let him breathe!”

It’s the first time Roman has ever come to Virgil’s defense, and he’s only vaguely happy about that. Truth is, he’s so much more wrapped up in the fact that Remus is actually happy that he doesn’t even notice Logan’s back to touching his ribs until another sharp pain brings him back.

“They’re definitely not broken. Fractured, at worst. Either way, you’re going to the hospital. Only question is, can you get down to the car?”

Virgil wants to nod, wants to go along with no problem, but he can barely take a step before his knees almost give out. If he could double over without making everything worse, he would. 

Remus doesn’t see this as a problem, though, eagerly offering Virgil to ride on his back until they get to the bottom. The shorter is, obviously, reluctant to this plan, seeing as how it’s a decently long trail and he isn’t that light, but damn, his soulmate insists, and next thing he knows, he’s gingerly holding onto Remus’ shoulders as he pushes back into a standing position.

(If he wasn’t already super hot, he’s strong, too? Virgil has struck the literal jackpot.)

He buries his face into the crook of Remus’ neck, trying not to wince at every jolt and bump as they maneuver their way down the hill, all conversation halted so they can focus on the two of them. Roman walks in front of them and Patton and Logan behind, ready to jump into action at any sign of stumbling. 

But it’s okay, it actually is, Virgil realizes as they’re making their way down the hill. Sure, they only really bonded today, but they also bonded in a day, and if that’s not telling of the future they’ll have together, whether romantic or platonic (they still need to talk that out), it’s gonna be okay.

Anyone who’s willing to throw themselves into harm's way and carry you down a mountain has got to be a worthy soulmate.

[btsqualityy]

Heaven Sent; Part 6

Jin x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings: Emotional manipulation (at least, that’s what I think it would be catergorized as).

Month seven was a month of exploration. After you and Jin admitted to being attracted to each other and deciding to try things out to see what happens, you were seemingly thrown into the deep end with how open Jin became after that.

You learned that he loves to cook, and that he would’ve been a chef if he hadn’t taken over the business end of his father’s restaurants. He double majored in both business and culinary arts, and he was Hae-il’s roommate and the first person that he met during their first year. He loves trot music, and you’ve unfortunately been on the receiving end of him serenading you with a song numerous times. He also loves video games and you were willing to bet that if he didn’t have to work, then he’d been stuck behind a computer screen playing games all day. 

There was just so much more to Jin and his personality that you never knew about, and you couldn’t believe that you found yourself liking him more and more as the two of you spent more time together. 

“Uncle Jinnie, can I get the songpyeon?” Aera asked Jin from her place perched on his shoulders and you couldn’t help but to laugh at the way that she pronounced the word. The three of you had met for brunch at a little café down the block from his office, where he had been doing some work.

“Little Heart, we’ve talked about this,” Jin chuckled as he patted her feet where they swung lightly by his chin. “Just say rice cakes.”

“But I’m a big girl and that’s what the sign says!” She shot back and you smiled as you looked up at her.

“Don’t remind me,” you chuckled. “You’re growing up too fast Love.”

“Can I get them uncle Jinnie?” Aera asked again, and you and Jin could both hear the impatience that had creeped into her tone so he rapidly nodded before turning to the cashier.

“Can we have two pink lemonades, an iced Americano, a songypeon and two dasiks?” Jin ordered and the cashier nodded. Jin then reached down, pulling his wallet out of the pocket of his slacks and taking out his card, handing it to the cashier. After he got his card back, the three of you moved further down the counter so that the next person behind you could place his order.

“I hope that we didn’t pull you away from anything too important,” you spoke up as you looked at Jin. 

“Nah, I was just filling out some paper work and signing off on some things, so it was mostly procedural stuff,” he told you. “And even if it were really important, I don’t mind taking a break for you guys.”

“It’s also Saturday, so you shouldn’t be overworking yourself anyways,” you smiled gently, trying to hide the way that your cheeks had warmed up from his words. 

“Order #353,” a voice called out and you and Jin stepped up to the counter, grabbing your drinks and snacks. After finding a small table in one corner of the café, the three of you sat down, Aera perched on Jin’s lap as she ate her rice cake. 

“Did you have a good week at school Little Heart?” Jin asked her and you watched as her little eyes widened.

“Yes,” she whispered and Jin looked down at her, his eyebrows raised in confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“She had an issue with a boy in her class on Wednesday,” you told him and he looked up at you. 

“What happened?” He wondered.

“The little boy made a comment about Hae and Aera stomped on his foot and hit him in the stomach,” you revealed. 

“Aera,” Jin called disapprovingly and Aera’s head whipped up at the utterance of her real name from Jin. 

“It wasn’t my fault!” She exclaimed. “He said Daddy died because he doesn’t love me and I know that’s not true so I hit him!”

“Of course it’s not true sweetheart,” Jin cooed, lifting his hand and wiping away at the hot tears that had started to gather in the corners of her eyes. “Your Daddy loves you so much and he wouldn’t have left if he had the choice so that boy shouldn’t have said that. That doesn’t mean that you can just go around hitting people either though.”

“Mommy said the same thing,” Aera pouted.

“That’s because Mommy’s pretty smart,” Jin smiled. “So no more fights, ok?”

“Ok,” Aera nodded before going back to eating. 

“Thanks,” you said and Jin raised an eyebrow as he brought his cup of coffee to his mouth. 

“For what?”

“For backing me up,” you replied. “She’s always better convinced if more than one person tells her the same thing.”

“Just like Hae,” Jin laughed as he shook his head. “Anyways though, what do you guys have planned for today?”

“Me and Mommy are going to see grandma and grandpa today!” Aera interjected suddenly. 

“Your parents?” Jin asked and you shook your head.

“Hae’s,” you told you. “I think it’ll be good for her to see them, especially after what happened this week. We’re gonna go catch up and then Aera is gonna stay the night.”

“Good idea,” he agreed. “So does this mean that our regular Saturday movie night is cancelled?”

“Only this one,” Aera told him and he smiled before reaching down and tweaking her nose. 

“Good,” he said, making her giggle as you watched them fondly.

After finishing your drinks and snacks, Jin walked with you and Aera back down the block to your car. He put her inside, helping her strap herself into her booster seat before shutting the door and looking down at you.

“So, are you and me still on for our movie night?” Jin smirked and you reached out, smacking his chest lightly as you rolled your eyes. 

“You’re gross,” you giggled. “But yes, we’re still on. I’ll only stay with Aera for about an hour and then I’ll be home so you can just come over whenever.”

“Alright. I do have to finish up some stuff but I don’t think it’ll take me long at all,” he responded. “Still, I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

“Ok,” you smiled and the two of you stood there in silence for a few seconds, just looking at each other. 

“Is she looking?” Jin asked and peaking your head around his arm, you saw that Aera was looking down at one of the books that you kept in the car for her.

“Nope,” you told him and suddenly, his lips were pressed against yours. You kissed him back, sighing contentedly before pulling away.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he whispered, and you nodded.

“Bye.”

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

“Oh, hi my baby!” Jin-joo exclaimed, leaning down so that she could catch Aera in her arms as Aera rushed up to her. You shut the car door, smiling as you walked up to the front steps of Hae-il’s parent’s house.

“Hi Y/N-ah,” Gun greeted you and you stepped forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling back. “Is that little one’s bag?”

“Oh yeah, it has all of the things that she’ll need,” you nodded, pulling Aera’s small backpack from over your shoulder and handing it over to him.

“We still have some of her stuff here though,” Gun mentioned.

“I figured but she’s hit a growth spurt in the last two months or so,” you told him with a smile. “It seems like she outgrew every single piece of clothing that she owned all at the same time.”

“That just means you’re eating well huh?” Jin-joo smiled at Aera, who nodded rapidly in her arms. “Well, both of you come on in.” You followed behind Jin-joo and Gun, watching with a smile as they both helped Aera take off her jacket and her shoes. As you worked on taking off your own shoes and jacket, Jin-joo handed Aera off to Gun.

“Why don’t you show Aera some of the new things that we bought for her?” Jin-joo suggested and Aera’s eyes instantly lit up. 

“New toys?” She wondered excitedly.

“Why don’t we go see?” Gun chuckled, turning off and carrying Aera off down the hallway. Once they were gone, Jin-joo turned to you with a wide smile.

“Tea?” She offered.

“Please,” you nodded, following behind her into the kitchen. You sat down at the small table that was there and you watched silently as she grabbed a kettle, moving over to the sink and filling it with water before moving over to the stove. 

“How have you been getting along dear?” She asked you and you sighed lightly, thinking over your answer. 

“Honestly, I’m doing a lot better than I thought I would be after only 7 months,” you admitted. “I haven’t burst out crying in a good three weeks or so, which I consider to be progress.”

“That’s definitely good progress,” she chuckled with a soft smile as she moved to sit across the table from you. “And Aera?”

“Oh, she’s been doing amazingly,” you smiled. “Well, of course besides the incident on Wednesday.”

“I felt so bad when you called and told us about that,” Jin-joo sighed. “I bet she misses him so much.”

“She does,” you confirmed. A few seconds of silence passed over the two of you before you heard her take a deep inhale. 

“I have to say Y/N-ah, and I really hope that you don’t take extreme offense to this, but I began to think after you called Thursday,” Jin-joo began. “And I couldn’t help but to wonder if Aera acting out that way has to do with Seokjin?” Your eyes immediately widened at her words, not expecting her to say that.

“What would he have to do with that?” You questioned.

“Well, I know that she’s been spending an increased amount of time with him, with the both of you, together,” she corrected herself. “And with her being so young, I can’t help but to be concerned about what that’s doing to the memory that she has of her father.”

“Jin-joo, you’re skirting around what you really want to say, and I’d prefer if you would just say it,” you told her.

“Alright, fine,” she nodded. “In my opinion, it is much too soon or you to be moving on and seeing other men and Aera is clearly suffering from it.” You couldn’t help the chuckle that you let out then, the disbelief almost overwhelming you.

“First off, the relationship that I have with Jin isn’t anything like you’re thinking,” you said. “Secondly, you know me Jin-joo. You know I’d never do anything that would carry even the slightest risk of harming Aera in any way, shape, or form.”

“But you’re grieving, and grief can make us do things that we normally wouldn’t,” she noted.

“I can see that,” you replied tersely. 

“Look Y/N-ah, I’m only concerned about your and Aera’s well being,” she insisted. “Hae-il’s death has greatly affected all of us but more than anyone, it’s affected Aera the most. Now, I know Seokjin and I know he more than likely has the best of intentions but I don’t think it’s a good idea to allow him to get too comfortable in Aera’s life.”

“But he’s already been around since she was born,” you shot back. 

“Which makes it even worse that he’s pursuing you not even a year after her father’s death,” Jin-joo explained before exhaling harshly. “I’m going to ask you a question and I would like an honest answer.”

“Ok.”

“Did you love my son?” She asked and your jaw dropped slightly.

“Of course I did, and you know that better than anyone,” you spat harshly.

“Then for the sake of that and the sake of the wellbeing of my granddaughter, who is the only tie that any of us have to Hae-il, you should wait to involve yourself in any other relationships,” she advised you and you hated to admit it, but you really began to think about what she was saying. Things with Jin had happened very quickly and even though you had been concerned with how your relationship with him would look to others, it hadn’t been at the forefront of your mind.  

Even though you didn’t like how she approached the topic with you, you had to admit that just maybe....she had a point.

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

Your thoughts only began to run away with you even more after you left Hae-il’s parents house and made it back to your own. 

You never wanted your love for Hae-il to be doubted but you could understand why Jin-joo would ask you a question like that. You had been spending a lot of time with Jin but you had always justified it by saying that if he makes you and Aera happy, then there was no harm in having him around.

But did he really make Aera happy though? It seemed like he did and she definitely loved him, which no one with eyes could deny, but she was also an easily distracted 6 year old who would be happy if you gave her a sucker. You had to think about if having Jin around so much was causing her to act out or not, because maybe she felt like she was loosing touch with Hae-il and that was absolutely the last thing that you wanted. 

Once you got home, you decided that you wanted to be close to Hae-il so after taking a shower, you changed into a pair of his old jogging pants and one of his button up flannel shirts. After making yourself some ramen, you settled down with it on the couch, making sure to grab your photo album on the way. Grabbing a blanket, you pulled it over your lap and opened the photo album, choosing to look through some of the photos while you waited for your ramen to cool down. 

The very first photo you saw was from your and Hae-il’s engagement photo shoot, where he was sitting in a chair and you were standing behind him, your arms wrapped around his neck. Your engagement ring was on display, a dainty ruby rock that fit around your left ring finger perfectly. You’d always loved that ring, even sometimes favoring it over the gold wedding band that you exchanged with Hae-il a year after that engagement photo shoot. You hadn’t worn it since Hae-il died though, not being able to stomach looking at it for more than a few seconds at a time.

The next photo was of you and Hae-il on your wedding day, your eyes shining with tears as Hae-il read his vows to you at the altar. That day was amazing, the love that you were feeling for him almost overwhelming you at times throughout the ceremony. You laughed to yourself as you remembered how Hae-il almost spilled wine on your wedding dress at the reception later that night, getting slightly too tipsy on soju as he tried to whisk you around the dance floor.

As you continued to look through the photo album, you hadn’t even realized that tears had been welling up in your eyes until it rolled down your cheek and onto the photo album, splashing right onto a photo of you, Hae-il, and Aera that had been taken on her first birthday. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “I can’t believe that I even thought that I’d be able to do this.” As you continued to look through the album, your phone buzzed on the table and when you leaned forward to pick it up, you saw that you had a text from Jin.

“On my way out soon,” it read. “We still on for tonight?”

Biting your lip as more tears rushed down your face, you huffed harshly as you realized what it was that you needed to do. 

“No,” it stated simply. After making sure that it sent, you then turned your phone off, setting it back on the table before looking back down on the photo album. 

“I love you,” you whispered as you ran your finger over a photo of Hae-il holding a baby Aera and smiling brightly at the camera. “And I’m so sorry if I made you think that I didn’t.”

[ilguna]

Redamancy - Chapter Nine (f.o)

summary: it’s time to forgive and repair.

warnings; swearing, brief mention of murder.

wc; 8.9k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

This morning, you’re floating around the room. There’s an impossible grin on your face as you move to get ready today, not even mad over the fact that you didn’t get much sleep last night. It’s the anticipation of seeing your tribute again--now a victor! You’ve always pictured the moment where you finally get to see your tribute again after their big win, and it’s finally happened.

Five years of trial and error, and you’ve finally found a solution. It doesn’t matter that it’s been standing in front of you the entire time, all that matters is that you made it. You figured out what you need to do in your future years. In no time, you’ll be just as infamous as Districts One and Two. No more caskets, you’ll finally be able to start sleeping easy.

What you wear today doesn’t have to be anything specially fancy. You settle for a pair of black jeans and dark grey shirt. You kick the black tennis shoes out of the closet and into the middle of your room. You drop the clothes onto the bed, but bring the black underwear into the bathroom with you.

You turn on the shower, and strip yourself naked. The last time anyone has seen Annie was a week and a half ago, inside of the arena. Since then, you only get updates on her. Mostly the injuries she sustained, and fixing the blemishes that might have appeared on her skin since being inside of the arena. You went ahead and approved the full-body polish, mostly because you’re not sure if she can handle seeing the scars as reminders.

It’s less of the fact that she might find them ugly and will want them covered up later, and more of the fact that she literally will not be able to handle seeing them. Along with all the other testing and evaluating that they’ve been doing over the last week and a half, they’ve also been frequently checking her mental health. She’s pretty drugged each time they ‘wake her up’ from her medically-induced coma, but from what they can tell, it’s not good.

Annie’s time in the arena has left her damaged. Which is okay, because that has happened to all the victors that you’ve met so far. This will be the first time you’ve seen it more severely, and you’ll just have to take a different approach with it. You’ve already decided that she won’t be replacing you in the mentor program, or helping you, Anchor, and Finnick in the boarding school. At least, not until you’re sure that she can handle it.

For now, she’s a delicate flower, and needs to be handled as such. 

You shower, scrubbing yourself clean. The sugary smell of the body wash fills the air, and you find yourself taking in deep breaths through your nose to savor the sweetness. Even if it’s unintentional, the Capitol is exceptional at selling products to you. How can you resist the body scrub that makes you smell like ice cream? You can’t.

You have time before you need to be out in the dining room to meet Finnick to go down to Annie. So, you sit on the floor of the shower, hair out of reach of the water to make sure that you won’t have to dry it, and let the warm water soothe you. Every now and then, you’ll turn it hotter, or colder, bouncing back and forth until your stomach is growling and you can’t put it off any longer.

You dry yourself with a soft towel, eyes on yourself in the mirror. You can’t really help it when you turn to see the scar on your back. A part of you is sad that you couldn’t even keep one thing for Annie. A scar, a cracked tooth, some abnormality. Something on her body that would tell everyone, when shown, that she won the Hunger Games and kept an injury as a souvenir. Even after everything that she’s gone through. 

It would be a sign of strength, you think.

You pull on the black underwear, and leave the bathroom to get dressed in your room, since that’s where you left your clothes. The moment you step into the doorway, you can see Finnick sitting on the chair in the corner. He stares blankly at you for a moment, before he slowly turns a red color.

“I should’ve knocked.” He covers his eyes with one hand, but does the little peek thing through his fingers as a joke.

Of course, the one time you don’t lock your bedroom door before you go to take a shower, someone comes in. And of course, the first person that does it by accident is Finnick.

You give him a face before pulling on your jeans, “You need something?”

“Just came in to check on you, you’ve been showering for a while now.” he says, there’s a smile hinting at the corner of his lips. 

“And you didn’t knock?” you pull on your shirt next, and reach for a pair of socks, when you realize that you didn’t set any out by accident. This starts your next hunt.

“I did, actually, a couple of times. Elysia got tired of the sound so she told me to sit and wait or give up altogether.” Finnick shrugs, “We’re both adults here, so I thought that you wouldn’t be too bothered if I sat in here.”

“Seems like an innocent enough excuse.” you grin, he laughs a little bit to himself, “What are you planning?”

“Obviously I was hoping that you’d walk out naked.” 

You roll your eyes, “You’re a little late for that.”

You open the top drawer of the dresser to find that there’s only one pair of socks, which means that you’re going to have to wear this pair tomorrow. You’ll only be in the Capitol today and tomorrow, after that you’re going to be going home. Unfortunately, none of you are going to have a minute to think to yourselves as soon as Annie’s awake. 

You pull on the socks, and then the shoes. Together, you and Finnick meet Elysia in the dining room. She’s wearing a particular green color that you vaguely remember her wearing after you won your games. It’s a different shade, a pea green color. It’s not an awful color on her, but it’s the color itself that looks gross. It seems that all of the times you’ve had to change Alyssum’s diaper has finally gotten to you.

“You look like you’re wearing baby shit.” you say, going down the steps.

Elysia’s neck practically breaks from how hard she turns to look at you, “What?”

“The color, it’s putrid.” you sit in a chair. Finnick sits next to you, laughing.

She looks down at what she’s wearing, a frown appearing on her face, and then she looks back at you, “You’re not kidding.”

“It’s an ugly color.” Finnick agrees, “It’s a good thing that you’re changing later.”

“The both of you are insufferable.” She sighs, but going back to drinking her coffee, “I suppose I should thank you for being honest.”

“You’re welcome.” You say, piling the food onto your plate.

“Just keeping you on your toes.”

It’s pancakes, and spread all over the table, is a variety of toppers. Different types of syrups, like caramel, fudge and maple are offered. Next is the sweets, like chocolate chips and toffee. Or there’s the fruits, bananas, strawberries, blueberries, everything you could possibly imagine. Which is quite a difference from the day you were only allowed to have fruits.

You grab what seems good, keeping in mind that you’ll be able to try as many combinations as you want to. You start with the fruits, and then the sweets, and end with the syrups, since they’re pretty irreversible. You could always ask for a new plate, or you can just be smart and wait until the end to try syrups.

Anyway, Finnick seems to have the same thought process that you do. Maybe he’s finally realized that this will be the last breakfast you eat. As tomorrow you’ll probably be eating brunch, or lunch altogether from how late you’ll be getting up. The final interview will be conducted at two tomorrow, you’ve already been given the schedule. And since the Victory Banquet that will take place tonight, lasts until early morning, you’ll all be sleeping in past breakfast.

The avoxes take their time clearing the table, since you three are in no hurry to leave. There’s still half an hour to burn before you should even think to start making your way downstairs. There’s no set time that Annie will be awake, but they’ll let her out of the room at a certain time. When they’re sure that the drugs have worn off and that she won’t hurt herself, or others.

And since her current mental state is a little questionable, she’s been met with quite a few exceptions from the gamemakers and President Snow, himself. You remember having to put on your arena outfit after you woke up in the medical room. It wasn’t a pleasant sight after everything that you’d been through. The navy blue color has almost permanently been ruined for you because of it. 

If it was hard for you, there’s no telling what Annie might think of it. So, she’ll be wearing sweatpants and a shirt. The accommodations don’t really stop there, they’ll continue on from today, to tonight, to tomorrow afternoon, District Four, all the way until after her Victory Tour. Annie is in no state to be constantly hounded by cameras as soon as she gets home. Same thing goes for coming face to face with the families of the dead tributes.

Annie’s lucky that she was born and fought for the district she’s in currently, otherwise there’s no telling what other mentors would have made her do. Look strong-minded, as if the games didn’t affect her at all. Pretend as though killing two tributes isn’t detrimental all by itself. Act like Marsh never meant a thing to her, like he was just garbage to be thrown away.

No, you and Finnick know the value of human life. You know that volunteering takes a willpower that you will never have. On one hand, you’re lucky that Alyssum isn’t in your age group, because you would have hated to volunteer over her. To willingly put yourself into a situation that would supposedly look like a ‘noble act’. But on the other hand, if she’s chosen for the games--since her eligibility doesn’t just magically go away because you’ve won--you won’t be able to volunteer for her, only mentor.

It’s mostly the reason why you’re so hellbent on sending her to the boarding school. You, Reed and Mox can’t protect her. She’s too young. Reed is seventeen years older than her, Mox is sixteen, and you are twelve. If she gets chosen, none of you can go in there and protect her. Even family friends are too old to do that, and you would never ask them to do it in the first place.

To volunteer to go into the games is to willingly accept that you might die when you go inside. It means to stand in line to get on Charon’s boat to cross the river Styx. It’s like standing outside of the gates of hell, knowing what is happening on the other side of the fence, and choosing to go inside anyway. In a way, it also means that you are not completely whole, and you are trying to find the missing piece. 

The Hunger Games is not that missing piece.

The Hunger Games takes all the pieces you have and scatters them. You have to find each and every one of them individually, and hope that you haven’t gone out of order. Otherwise, you’re stuck in some purgatory of not knowing what you’re missing and thinking that missing piece is the solution.

You know because you’re speaking from experience. 

The moment you rsoe from that platform inside of the arena, you lost everything you had before. You had to build it from the ground up, hoping that the foundation that your brothers had helped with, was sturdy enough to build the rest of the house. You got lucky in there. What they don’t tell you, is that you lose all the pieces when you come back, too.

You’ll never be able to officially understand what Annie will feel and go through, but you’ll be able to offer her advice. Tell her that she’s not alone, and every single victor had to go through the same process that she’s going through now. Readjusting back to reality after living inside a death trap designed to kill you, is hell. It’s always like walking through hell.

“I think I’m going to change.” Elysia says, getting up from the table and leaving towards the hallway, which might actually lead her to a room with extra clothes for the escorts. You don’t know, you never go farther than the balcony because there’s never a need to.

“Are you okay?” Finnick asks, his hand is gentle on your shoulder, “You’ve got a look on your face.”

“Just remembering how I felt post-games.” you look at him.

“Hopeless?” His voice is careful.

“Hopeless.” you agree, giving him a smile, “It’s okay, the pieces are coming back together. One at a time. I’m sure by the time I’m Haymitch’s age, I should have my head on straight without the help of alcohol poisoning.” 

Finnick lets out a laugh, and then draws you in close enough to press a kiss to your lips. There’s a small explosion of heat across your face, since the giddy feeling from when you were a teenager seems to have come back. Along with all the previous feelings you had for Finnick. 

You never stopped loving him, you were just waiting until it was the right time.

He presses a kiss to your forehead after, “Is your room back home soundproof?”

You pull away from him, face twisting, “You know how to ruin a moment, huh?”

“It was a genuine question!” He asks, but there’s laughter in his voice.

“If that’s really a concern, we can just use your house.”

He makes a face, “Your bed is always softer.”

“That’s because I know how to get a proper mattress.” a smile appears on your face as you get to your feet. You can hear Elysia coming down the hall, heels clicking on the wooden floorboards.

She’s dressed in a darker green, which still goes with her makeup, so there wasn’t a need for change. She obviously did this on purpose, just so that she wouldn’t have to take off what she’s wearing, put on a fresh layer, only to take it off a couple hours later. It would be a waste, mostly because all of the products in the Capitol are crazy expensive.

“We can go now.” she says.

Together, the three of you take the first elevator down to the Training Center, and then a second one further underground. Where the walls, floors and ceiling is all cement, and the doors are hidden unless digitally told to move. You remember sitting inside of your medical room, waiting for the doors to open for you. A random panel on the wall had moved. You knew the door blended in, but the architect was a genius for how well they'd done it.

You’re not allowed to go beyond a certain point. Annie hearing your voices directly outside of her room can make her feel like she’s going insane--it’s a rule for all victors, not an accommodation for her--and might even make her destructive. The peacekeepers stand in place for a while, motionless and waiting for orders. When the orders are given to them, they leave you three to yourselves in the hallway.

“Three more days until we go home.” you massage the back of your neck, “Finally, I’m tired of this.”

“So it takes nearly three full weeks for you to grow homesick?” Finnick asks.

“More of the fact that I just want to start the next round of trainees.” you run a hand through your hair, now, “Now that I’ve caught the mistake, I just want to fix it before it’s too late.”

“Do you have a set schedule for training?” Elysia asks, you can see Laurel coming your way.

When she stops next to Elysia, she doesn’t really say anything, just listens to what you three are talking about. If you didn’t know her as well as you did, you’re sure that you would be afraid to speak about this in front of her. However, she’s like one of your best friends, you trust her with your life.

“Mostly during the school year, we take a break when the games come around, and pick it up a week or two after. But this year I’m probably going to make them come in as soon as possible.”

Elysia opens her mouth, pauses, and then asks; “You take their entire break from them?”

“No,” Finnick says, you smile along, “No, when we designed this, we knew that we wouldn’t be able to run it all day long.”

“But you call it a boarding school.” she says slowly.

“To make sure that we don’t get in trouble with the law.” you raise your eyebrows slightly, feeling smug, “Preparing tributes for the Hunger Games is highly illegal, but if you can find ways around it…”

“Also, the school runs from late afternoon into evening. The teens have the entire morning to themselves.” Finnick says, “Because there’s nothing more teenagers hate than having to get up in the morning for school.”

You nod, “It runs for four to five hours, sometimes over if it’s a special day. We always warn the parents and teens in advance. We also keep track of who comes in, who drops out and for what reason. And also grades, for the younger kids because their education is important and all of that.”

Finnick’s trying to suppress a smile, “We run a very ethical business.”

You laugh, elbowing him.

You can hear the scuffle of feet behind you, which makes you and Finnick turn to see who’s coming. You know already, there’s no one else in this part of the building that has woken from their slumber. 

Annie stands at the end of the hallway, looking only slightly disoriented. Her hair looks like she used her fingers to comb through it. As you said earlier, she’s wearing the grey sweatpants, with a matching grey shirt. At first, she just stands and stares at you guys, almost like she’s unsure if you guys are real.

And then a smile spreads across her face, breaking into a run with her arms open wide. You open your arms too, not being able to help the grin on your face. She slams into your body, arms tight around your waist. You squeeze her, rubbing her back with a laugh.

“Welcome back, Annie.”

She moves onto Finnick next, then Elysia, and finally, Laurel. When all of you can see her face, it’s slightly blotchy from crying. She wipes her eyes and gives you guys a wobbly smile, wrapping her arms around herself.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

She shrugs slightly, “Tired, when are we going home?”

“Two days, we’ll be on the train by tomorrow afternoon.”

Annie smiles, Laurel touches her shoulder carefully, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.” 

And then her eyes land on you, Finnick and Elysia, “Don’t wait too long to get ready, you only have a few hours.”

“We got it.” Finnick gives her and Annie a wave.

Laurel brings Annie’s arm into hers, talking to her on the way to the elevator. They take a turn around a corner, and then they’re out of sight. For a moment, all three of you stand in silence, trying to gather what you can from that brief interaction with Annie.

“I think that we shouldn’t be as careful as we’re being.” you say slowly, trying to make sure that you won’t be wording this wrong, “She isn’t a child, she’s eighteen.”

Finnick’s nodding along, “You can be fragile and still not break under pressure.”

“Bingo.” 

--

You decided that it wouldn’t hurt to get ready for the recap in the same room. You had Finnick bring his suit, and whatever he would need for his hair into your room, since you have too much to transfer. You stand in front of the mirror, half-naked and curling your hair. Finnick sits on a kitchen stool, wearing his black slacks and a white undershirt. He’s caught in a game of buttoning and unbuttoning his cuffs.

“We should get her a counselor.” he mutters absently.

“She can use mine.” you let the curl fall, and then twirl the strand of hair around your finger for a couple of seconds, “She’s still active, I see her every now and then when I’m having a particularly hard time.”

Finnick’s eyes find yours in the mirror, “How often?”

You shrug, “It’s gotten less over the years, but sometimes little things will set me off.” you give him a half-smile, “I don’t cook by myself anymore because the knives in our kitchen are small and triggering. But if it’s teaching the boarding school, I can use knives, swords, whatever all day long without a problem.”

You know what the problem is. When you cook, you like to do it alone because you don’t have people around you to distract you. You’re not as prone to making accidents. However, it also means that you’re allowed to think to yourself, and dig up everything that you’ve worked hard to bury. Like what it feels like to have your hands coated in blood, and the panicked feeling when Allio had woken up right as you’d begun to retreat.

If you’re surrounded by the teens, it means you’re using the knife with a purpose. You’re teaching them how to defend themselves, you don’t have to think about all the bad things you’ve done with a weapon, and all the feelings that came after. You also don’t do it often, too. You know to take breaks between you teaching and Anchor, because progress can unwind very, very quickly and easily. Years of work can be gone in a simple hour.

“Huh.” Finnick lets out, “Anything else?”

You think for a moment, and then laugh, “I don’t like the taste of fish. I can’t stand the smell of it cooking, either.”

Finnick laughs too.

“Alyssum asked me for a rabbit last year, like a pet.” You shake your head, “I told her no but I couldn’t explain why, exactly. How do you tell your little sister that you know what they taste like? Much less that you ate them for weeks on end?”

“That would be a good way to traumatize her.”

“Just a couple more years, and then I’ll let her in on the secret.” you wink.

You do your makeup next, going easy on the gold eyeshadow. Earlier, Laurel had hand-delivered a puffy gold dress, as well as Finnick’s black and white suit. He doesn’t get to have all the fun colors like he used to, unless he’s dressing himself. Laurel and Pleurisy wouldn’t allow that this time around, and you’re not really upset about it. She knows better than you do when it comes to what the Capitol will want to see.

“Are you nervous?”

You raise your eyebrows, “For what?”

“To be on stage, it’ll be the first time since we were kids.” 

You pause, looking at him, “Are you nervous?”

“A little.” he admits, shrugging, “I mean, people will know that I’m a phony and did nothing.”

“Except you did do something, you mentored. Just because you didn’t help in the boarding school, doesn’t mean anything just yet.” you back up for a minute, “I wish Leo was here to do my makeup, he can do it more evenly than I can.”

“I think it looks good.” Finnick says, “The real problem is the eyeliner, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I’ve been practicing.”

It’s quiet for a second, “You didn’t answer my question.”

A low hum sounds from you as you try and finish up what you’re doing, “I don’t think so.” you move onto your other eye, “It’s not about me, it’s about Annie and her victory. It’s harder to be afraid to look good and stuff like that. I’m not the main focus, we won years ago.”

“Except they’re going to know we’re a couple…” Finnick trails off, “Maybe that isn’t a bad thing.”

You smile, “See? You’re worrying over nothing.”

You finish up what you’re doing, which takes an additional ten minutes. After, you pull on the dress, have Finnick zip up the back, and then sit on the chair in front of the mirror. You lightly curl some of his hair to accentuate the look, it’s also somewhat of a throwback to how he’d look on stage the last time you two were together.

“You look very handsome.” you say, rufflign up his hair to make it look less clean.

“I look handsome? I think you look handsome.” Finnick says.

You fake a gasp, placing your hand on your chest, grinning, “Oh my gosh, thank you.”

He rolls his eyes, laughing. The only thing you have to do is put on jewelry and put on your shoes before it’s too late. You go ahead and do the black heels first, Finnick volunteers to do the ribbons on the bottom because he knows how to tie a tie. When he gets to his feet, you cup his face and kiss him.

All the jewelry is black, except for your ring. You pull on the bracelets, and while you’re positioning them, you spy a wiggly gold one. So, you place it in the middle to make a small pattern, before moving onto your ears. The earrings are dangly black lines, it doesn’t draw much attention, and it’s mostly hidden by your hair, unless you move it behind your shoulder or tuck strands behind your ears.

Just before you think you’re ready enough to go, you go back and apply black lipstick, afraid that Laurel will pick that out when she finally sees you in less than an hour. You make sure that the black isn’t on your teeth, and won’t be transferring onto Finnick if you end up kissing him more. Then, you head out of your room and into the dining room to see that Elysia is just about to leave the apartment too.

She’s dressed in silver, but she isn’t shiny like you are, “I think Annie’s wearing red.” 

“She is.” Finnick says, “It’s a maroon color, goes down to her calves.”

When you first saw the dress when Laurel showed you, it seemed a little dangerous, especially the color. But getting to see it in person a couple days ago, you finally agreed that Annie would like it. Annie’s not really going to get to see herself in the mirror, because they want to make sure she won’t have a panic attack just before the recap and crowning. Everyone was promised to make her glance in the mirror as brief as possible.

Elysia brings you and Finnick to where you’ll be standing when you’re raised. Unlike the first time, this time you and Finnick aren’t separated by a wall. You stand on yours briefly, and Finnick mimics you. A sense of nostalgia goes through you, staring at the wall in front of you like this, hands in your lap. Back then, you were moments from seeing Finnick for the first time since the arena. The first time he’d be able to see you awake, alert, alive.

You’re sure that you hate the feeling of all of this, rushing back into your head fast enough to give you a pounding headache. But you don’t move from the platform, you smile down at it slightly. It’s an old friend, the start of your journey home.

“Finnick?” you ask, looking at him.

His eyes meet yours, the darkness in here makes it nearly impossible to see the smile that appears on his face, “(Y/n)?”

“Thank you.”

His face twists slightly, “For what?”

“For saving me.”

He opens his mouth to ask what you mean, but Elysia appears telling you that Annie has made it down. The prep team and Laurel are going to go get ready, so you have a couple of minutes before you really need to start worrying about being where you should be. She disappears again.

“I’m going to go check on Annie real quick, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” you get off the platform.

Annie is standing by herself in the dark, playing with the smooth ruffles on her dress. She runs her fingers along the cloth, an easy soothing method. When she hears your heels, she looks over, and then smiles.

“Hey,” you stop in front of her, “You look great!”

Her chin lowers slightly, “Thank you, you do too.”

“The recap is going to be extremely easy. All you have to do is smile and wave.” you fix some hair, pulling it over her shoulder, “You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to.”

She nods, rubbing her hands down her dress until they disappear, pockets. You totally forgot that Laurel had incorporated pockets into her dress. You don’t even remember why she had done it in the first place, maybe because of the Victory Banquet? You suppose that makes the most sense.

Either way, she pulls out a small strand of rope, already frayed, “Laurel snuck me this.”

“Smart, I didn’t even think to get you something like that.” you nod, “We’ll be up in a couple of minutes, so just stay on the platform. You’ll be brought up last, you’ll hear Caesar and the audience above you.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

You join Finnick back at the plate, stepping onto it and readjusting little things to make sure that they’re in place. Finnick does the same, as the minutes tick down. Before you know it, the anthem is blasting overhead. It’s only a matter of time, now. You’ll be on stage briefly, and then you’ll be sitting in the crowd.

You listen to Caesar greet the audience, and then slowly start to introduce Annie’s prep team. Cleo is up first, then Beth, then Leo. They don’t get extremely loud cheering, as they’re not seen as super important. They only handle hair and makeup, but they still get their own small spotlight. And it’s their second time, too. Elysia is introduced immediately after, you’re sure she’s thrilled that being in District Four is finally paying off.

Of course, Laurel gets loud cheering because she organized Annie’s outfits. You’re sure she’s dressed in black, that’s her go-to color. However, she’s very good at making it not look like a funeral color, and more of a welcome sight. You remember her telling you, once upon a time, that the color shouldn’t be frowned upon and exclusively made for funerals. Just like white, black can be made a bright color too.

You’re not entirely sure about that, considering that you’ve been to more than your fair share of funerals. She can think that the color can be reimagined into something that hasn’t such a dim meaning as soon as it’s seen. But in the districts, it’ll never be given a new meaning. 

You and Finnick are next. You can hear your name being called, a little echo following after. The crowd is already cheering loudly, just as you’re beginning to be pushed up. You wipe the grim look off your face, knowing that it’s not what the audience will want to see. Plus, you’re not entirely sure you want to spend the rest of the day in a bad mood. You still have hours of being around Capitol people ahead of you.

You blink and squint through the light, waving towards the crowd. You can hear your blood rushing in your ears, heart pounding loudly in your chest. You look over to see that Finnick has this cheeky smile on his face, and then he looks at you. It’s an immediate sense of deja vu that washes over you.

As the two of you come together, he holds his hand out for you to take. You slip your palm into his, and pull him to you a little bit to give him a kiss. He meets you halfway, and honestly, if you thought that the cheering before was loud, it gets louder. You smile against his lips, and he can’t help but to let out a little laugh himself.

The two of you meet everyone else at the front of the stage, waving and pointing to the people you recognize from the betting room. At the end, the prep teams lead the way down to the front row of seats, leaving the middle just for you and Finnick. Very last, so she has the entire stage to herself, Annie raises from the ground.

The crowd stands, so you stand with them. You clap, and when Annie has made it to the top of the platform, you go ahead and whistle. You can’t imagine how lonely it is up there, being by herself. Suddenly you’re more appreciative of the fact that the gamemakers gave you an opportunity to go home with Finnick. Imagine standing on that stage, knowing it could have been two.

You squeeze Finnick’s hand a little harder.

Annie sits in the white chair, hands dipping into her pockets. She nonchalantly pulls out her string and messes with it while her recap begins to play. And since all recaps tell a story, hers is ‘lone survivor’. It’s not a happy tale, as it starts with teamwork. She watches Marsh get beheaded in front of her, but the room falls silent when she slits Geare’s throat, and then attacks Sanguin. The recap ends with her on the roof, announcing her own win.

Again, the anthem plays. Annie raises from her spot in her seat, as you all watch President Coriolanus Snow come out from the side, with a girl trailing behind him, carrying the crown on a pillow. He stops in front of Annie, at an angle so that the audience can see. He carefully picks up the crown before placing it on her brow.

He moves out of the way, cheering erupts all around you. Annie places one hand in her pocket, the one that was holding the rope, while she waves with the other. She looks naturally happy here, you wonder how you’ll break the news to her that she won’t have a moment to think to herself after this. You and Finnick won’t be allowed to stay near her the entire night, you’ve got people to talk to, yourselves. 

Caesar finally wraps up the show, bidding you all a good night, with a reminder to tune into tomorrow’s final interview. It’ll be the last real time that they see Annie before the Victory Tour, as tomorrow the last glimpse the cameras will catch is her leaving the train station. After that, she’s in her own protective bubble, away from the cameras.

You all hurry to catch Annie behind the stage, singing praise to how well she did on stage, even if it was just sitting. She looked absolutely wonderful with the crown, Elysia doesn’t stop telling her that, even after you all get in the car. The ride to the Victory Banquet at the President’s Mansion is filled with pure instruction and warning.

“You’ll have a small bit of time to eat before you’re bombarded.” you say, watching as Elysia fixes little bits of Annie’s costume, “So, eat quickly and don’t grab rich foods that you know will make you sick.”

Finnick goes next, “They’re going to want conversation and pictures, so keep it brief and don’t stop smiling. If they offer you drinks, turn it down. There’s a hundred combinations they have, and not all of them are good.”

“We’ll come by every now and then to check on you. But we can’t stay the entire time.”

“You’ll do great.” Elysia assures her.

And just as promised, you leave Annie alone when you get there. Just like her, you and him don’t have much time to yourselves. So, you eat and talk at the same time, covering your mouth occasionally if you’re doing both. The food is rich, cooked perfectly, and delicious. Some food will melt in your mouth immediately, while others you have to chew it a few times before the flavor really kicks in. It’s a buffet, so just like this morning, there’s endless possibilities on what you can taste.

You and Finnick make your way around.

“About earlier, when you thank me for saving you--what were you thinking?” he asks, watching you.

You give him a smile, grabbing a bowl while you carefully spoon in a type of stew that smells savory. When you get the first taste of it, it’s not too thin, and it’s got a variety of spices, too many to think. It’s on the variety of overwhelming, but the thought of more makes your mouth water.

“When I stepped onto the platform, I remembered how I felt when I knew I’d be seeing you in mere minutes.” You look at him, “You were the first thing I asked for when I woke up, did I ever tell you that?”

“No, actually.” he smiles a bit, mirroring you, “If it makes you feel better, I asked if you were okay and alive.”

You laugh, he does too, “When I got on stage…” you quiet for a second, lowering the bowl, “I was relieved.”

“Me too.” Finnick says, “But I was also nervous about kissing you again.” you give him a look, “Honestly!”

“Right, Mister Casanova--”

“Oh, not this again.”

“--who had all the girls in high school wrapped around his finger--”

“(Y/n), it wasn’t like that.” his face is slowly turning red, adjusting his footing.

“--never had his first kiss before me? Okay.” you grin, watching him recollect himself.

As he takes deep breaths, the normal color of his face begins to return, “I never said that, all I said was that I was nervous to kiss you again. Because, you know.”

“No, I don’t know. Go ahead and enlighten me.”

He tilts his head, making a ‘seriously’ face at you. You’re thoroughly enjoying this, watching him explain his feelings. If this is how he gets every single time, you think you’ll have to do it more often. Find the deep things that he hasn’t told you just yet, and watch him get flustered when you pretend not to know.

“You’re telling me that you didn’t notice I liked you? I walked you home after school, in the rain, snow, sun. My mom gave you cookies, (Y/n).” He says, and you have to pause to think.

“I just thought you were being friendly.”

“We hung out everywhere.” he emphasizes.

And you guess he’s right. You thought that you and him didn’t hang out that often, but it’s a lot more than you can recall off the top of your head. You were so preoccupied in your own little bubble, worried about things back home and how they would get done, to notice that he was always there.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice earlier.” you tell him.

He shrugs, “I could always tell there was something on your mind.”

You smile.

Unfortunately, your time together, alone, ends there. You discard your plates and bowls in the proper places, knowing that you’ll be able to pick up more later if you have the time. For now, you talk to sponsors and important Capitol people. It’s mostly praise on how well your mentoring is, to get a tribute as dedicated as Annie is. But it’s also filled with pictures and polite smiles, pulling Finnick in close to join you.

There’s a few people that come around and tell you that they met you beforehand. Some of them you genuinely recognize, others aren’t as memorable, and you figure it’s because they came later. You remember all the faces blurring towards the end of the night. Mostly because they were drunk, dressed the same, and would talk the same before leaving.

You and Finnick work together to keep an eye on Annie. As far as you can tell, she’s holding up well. She seems like she’s comfortable, taking pictures and shaking hands. Elysia checks up on her first, and then comes around to you two to tell you that she’s feeling fine. About an hour later, you two become shields for her to allow her to recollect and start again.

She drinks water, you escort her to the bathroom, and help her pick out foods that will make her feel full. You vaguely know the tastes of all the food, and if you don’t, there’s papers that will tell her. Most of them are on point, some stray altogether. Annie seems to have fun, though, being able to pick her foods instead of having the Capitol regulate what she eats.

After that, you leave her again, wish her luck, and join Laurel and Elysia. They’re enjoying drinks with the prep team, who are all on the verge of making fools of themselves. Depending on the flavor of the alcohol, the color of the drink varies. You pick up a tall glass that fizzes that tastes like pineapple, lemon and orange. Finnick drinks a blue one that tastes like blueberries, blue raspberry and makes his face twist because it’s sour.

Some drinks go down like pure water, others make you pucker and cough from the intensity. Finnick will think that he’s strong enough to take on the drink that you just had, and then he’ll be subjected to the same burning sensation in his throat. You enjoy laughing at him after each time, until he finally learns his lesson.

As the night goes into morning, you and Finnick stop drinking and migrate around to say your goodbyes to as many people as you can before getting Annie with Elysia. All of you pile into the same car, where you’re brought to the Tribute Center. Immediately, Annie is brought to her room.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, just try and get some rest, okay?” you close her door, say goodnight to Elysia, and then you’re left with Finnick.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” he asks, moving some hair out of your face.

“Yeah.”

You slowly undress, hanging the gold dress in the closet, dropping the shoes beneath it. In the bathroom, you shed every piece of jewelry into a single drawer, not caring whether or not it fits in. You don’t have to look good tomorrow, you won’t be on camera until you’re at the train station.

You clean your face, and meet Finnick in the bed. Slipping beneath the blankets, you lay on your back, closing your eyes as you allow the tension in your back and shoulders to escape you. Finnick comes into the room a couple of moments later, no longer wearing his suit, only his boxers.

He jumps onto the bed, making you bounce. You let out a laugh, watching him get under the blankets too. You let him pull you into his body, finding out that he’s a literal furnace. You’re not sure you’ll last too long with the blankets if he’s producing this much heat. Either way, you wrap yourself around him, feeling him pull you against his body.

“I’m so fucking tired.” he says.

“Me too.” you briefly squeeze him, “We’ll be home soon.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, “You smell nice.”

“So do you.”

He lets out a half-laugh, before the two of you fall into silence. And eventually, sleep.

--

The morning is chaotic, as you have to move quickly to get ready this morning. Finnick brought in clothes last night to change into this morning. So, while he gets dressed, you briefly pull on a shirt and shorts before going out to eat breakfast with Annie and Elysia.

Annie’s only given so much time. She practically inhales the stew and rice, not having any time to properly enjoy it before the prep team is appearing. Laurel isn’t here just yet, as always. On the way out of the room, Annie picks up a buttered roll on the way out, waving to you and Finnick. She disappears in the hallway, you can hear her door shut.

You and Finnick don’t have a load of time, either. But you’re still allowed to eat slowly and properly savor the taste. When you’re done, you tell Elysia that you’ll be out before Annie starts her interview, and then Finnick goes to grab today’s clothes. You disappear into your room.

You take a shower, which entails washing your hair and your body. You should’ve done it last night, but you were far too tired to actually do it. When you step out, the machines dry you from head to toe, hair included. You pull on skin-matching underwear, and then pull your hair half-up, letting the rest be down like normal.

Makeup isn’t a number one priority, so you settle for mascara. Cameras aren’t going to be focusing on you, as you said. Finnick is sitting in front of the window when you get back inside of your room. He briefly looks over his shoulder to see you, and then back out at the city. The sun is nowhere to be seen, even though it’s past afternoon time by now.

You get dressed in ripped black jeans and a pink shirt. The tennis shoes are also black, the ring blends in slightly, which is the good news. The bad is that you and Finnick are almost matching, because of the shirt he’s wearing. But instead of telling him to get changed, you sit on the bed and pull on your tennis shoes. The city looks fairly alive, considering that Annie will be on television in less than a half hour.

“I’ve been thinking.” Finnick says, you hum, not moving from your spot on the bed, “It wasn’t me that saved you.”

Your eyebrows draw in, “What?”

��It was you who saved me.”

“Finnick, you know how dumb you sound right now, right?” you start, “You saved me from dying--twice! You saved me from the stab wound, and then kept me from falling over the edge of the cliff.”

“But you’re the one who got us to the cliff in the first place. You knew that running headfirst into the careers would get us killed. You were the one that kept pushing on even though you were physically dying--”

“Which wouldn’t have been possible without you healing me!” you say.

“And you were there the entire time during the victory tour.” Finnick’s voice gets quieter, “You held my hand the entire time. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made it through.”

You get off the bed and sit next to Finnick, taking his hand in yours. You say nothing, leaning your head against his shoulder. The two of you sit like this for a while, watching the cars dart around in the streets until you have to get up and be there for Annie’s interview.

It’s pretty uniform. You, Elysia and Finnick stand in the doorway, behind the cameras but Annie can still see you if she looks over. Caesar starts off slow for her, cracking jokes and keeping topics light. There’s a few questions he has to ask, which make your hands curl into fists, nervous if this will be what makes her break down. Especially the question about leaving Sanguin alive.

But Annie eases right through it, “I didn’t have to kill her, so I didn’t.” and then moves onto the next question without blinking an eye. It works like this, her answers are informative enough to make sure that Caesar can’t press on, but vague enough to not dig up memories. You’re proud of her.

It goes on for a little while more, as the questions have no set direction. You know that when he’s asking about the end, it’s almost over. So, you cross your arms, watching and listening to Caesar propose the question.

“When you saw the water coming, what was your intention, exactly?” 

Annie pauses for a moment, drawing her lips inward, and then she lets out a smile, “I was trying to run for as long as possible before I had to get into the water. I ran straight, because zig-zagging would only slow me down. And the further I ran, the more the height of the water, and really the intensity, started to lower.

“I got on the roof because I knew that it would be easier to swim to the top of the water from halfway, rather than the bottom. And the pressure at the bottom might have been too much for my ears. I waited until the water was right in front of me before I dived in, so that the impact wouldn’t shock me. At the top, all I had to do was coast and wait until something happened.” Annie finishes, playing with her fingers.

“So, you didn’t anticipate winning?” Caesar asks.

“No, I thought that the other tributes might have been somewhere safe already. That the water would eventually lower, and I’d go right back to trying to survive.”

Caesar smiles, “Which is why the announcement came as a shock.”

Annie smiles back, “Yeah.”

The interview is over. Caesar wraps it up, and the cameras are off. You can hear laughing, watching people hug. Annie raises from where she sat on her chair, and comes over to you and Finnick.

“Home?” She asks hopefully.

“Home.” you repeat.

Just before you all leave for the train, you collect anything that you might want out of your room. You find that the clothes you wore during the reaping are nicely folded and placed on the edge of your bed. You pick it all up, holding it against your chest when you meet Finnick in the hallway, looking the exact same way that you do.

You all meet in the front room together, where you go downstairs and out onto the street to see cars with blackened windows. Together, you, Finnick, Annie, Elysia and Laurel fit into a large car. Where you all assure Annie that she looks great, and that she answers her questions like she should’ve.

She gets a brief moment to say goodbye to Laurel, hugging her and thanking her for everything that she’s done so far. After that, you’re all brought onto the train station, where Annie waves goodbye for a couple of seconds, and then you’re inside, and the doors have closed.

“Holy shit.” you let out, stretching your arms above your head, “Glad that’s over.”

The entire train is dark for a couple of seconds, as you pass through the tunnel on the way out. As soon as light has filled the windows again, Elysia is bringing you all to the dining room to eat. It’s a big dinner, with plenty of courses. Annie seems to have it down by now, and she lasts all the way to the end before she’s full. You and Finnick picked at what you wanted, finishing up with the chocolate lava cake and ice cream.

After, you all sit on the couch together to watch a replay of the interview. Every now and then, Annie will admit how she was thinking of saying something else, and then will tell you what she could’ve said instead. Some of it is letting the audience down more slowly, other times it’s straight-forward and almost out-of-character. Like she’s trying to purposely provoke the Capitol into having an interaction.

When it’s over, you’re left to entertain yourselves. Annie says that she’s heading right to bed, and you and Finnick figure that it won’t hurt to do the same. However, neither of you are tired. For a while, you swing in Finnick’s hammock, talking to him about the boarding school and the schedule, how you’ll fit him in and what the teens will benefit from it.

“You think your brothers will kill me tomorrow?”

“We’ll just barely step off the platform and you’ll be dead.” you laugh, “You have no chance of even making it back home.”

“I think I can run fast.” 

You look over your shoulder, through the holes of the rope at Finnick, who’s watching you. You tilt your head, amused by the thought of him managing to outrun Reed, “I don’t think you’ll make it ten feet. He’ll just jump at you. What will you do then?”

Finnick sputters out a laugh, “Jump out of the way, easy peasy.”

You laugh a little too loud, covering your mouth. When you settle, you say; “I think they’ll be happy to see you again.”

You can hear Finnick get up, and you watch as he comes closer, standing next to you. He takes your hand in his, squeezing it, “Good, because I don’t plan on going away ever again.”

You give Finnick a soft smile, “I know.”

--

REDAMANCY IS PART 2 OF A TRILOGY //MASTERLIST//

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Flower | 26

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 3.7k

; Synopsis:  You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Thank you for reading this :) I hope you’re all enjoying it still. Please reblog so others can read and let me know your thoughts in some feedback! :D I’m always happy to hear them and I’m a little worried that you might all be getting bored or something :( <3

; Flower Masterpost

-

You’d be more surprised about the fact that it was just after eleven in the morning and Hoseok still wasn’t awake; if you didn’t have the memory of how drunk he’d been in the early hours. It had been amusing to wake up and see him still completely fast asleep next to you. 

He hadn’t even shifted position throughout the night, still laid exactly as he had been when he’d passed out. Before leaving him alone, you’d had to push him onto his other side to try to reduce the chances of him waking up with an unfortunate strain somewhere. Because that’s what happened when you were an adult. Sleeping gave you injuries sometimes, and you’d rather he didn’t wake up with more pain than he was already going to have.

Being an adult is fun.

Your concern for his health hadn’t stopped you from cooing softly at how cute he looked sleeping though. His face looked almost innocent when completely relaxed, a sight you didn’t often get to see given he got up and went to bed before you. The stomach-clenching sweetness wasn’t helped by the fact your heavily tattooed and pierced boyfriend was juxtaposed against the white bedding with tiny, cartoon ice-creams in multiple colours all over it. 

Honestly, it’s no surprise you’d had to snap a picture to show him when he woke up.

The sound of shifting and a slight creak from your bed through the open door of your bedroom distracts you away from your book. Looking up and at the doorway, your gaze narrows as you wonder if he’s just finally moving around or if he’s waking. But then you hear the quiet groan of someone who’s suffering and have to stifle a laugh. Placing a bookmark between the pages and putting it onto the coffee table, you go and fill a glass up of fresh, cold water for him and pop some painkillers.

Walking in, you’re greeted with the sight of Hoseok on his back. He doesn’t particularly look grateful to be awake, with one tattooed arm covering his eyes and the other rubbing at his head while he lets out the tiniest groan. Smiling to yourself, you place the glass onto the bedside table and nudge his arm softly.

“Hey, sleeping beauty. How’re you feeling?” There might be just the smallest hint of teasing in your voice and you’re thankful Hoseok has never really shown much of a temper before. Because given how rough he must be feeling, he could easily snap at you.

“Like I got run over by Satan’s truck and then he reversed back just for good measure. With an added dose of Jason Voorhees stabbing my brain through my eyeballs.” He grumbles, voice hoarse with sleep and you can’t stop the laugh that slips from your lips without meaning it. 

Sitting next to him on the bed, you gently tug his arm down until you get to see his face properly. The usual puffiness of sleep is there, only this time it’s combined with red eyes that are slightly bloodshot and what looks to be an unhealthy pallor to his skin. No surprise, given how much alcohol he’d ingested last night. His liver would not be thanking him today. Nor was his head probably.

“Those are some very specific descriptions.” Hoseok sits up slowly and takes a huge gulp of the water that you hand him before taking the painkillers with a soft thanks. They go down equally quickly and he’s finished the whole glass before you can even blink.

“Yeah, well. It’s true. Also, I need to pee so fucking bad. Holy shit.” He mumbles, scrambling out of bed once you take the glass from him. Snorting at how quickly he exits the bedroom, you go out to refill the glass and grab a dark chocolate and orange breakfast bar. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, you wait for him to finish his business and come back.

Which he does after five minutes. The tired kiss he presses to your lips tells you he’s taken the time to brush his teeth too so he’s probably feeling slightly more human at the moment. Handing him your hangover goodies, he drinks half the glass before chewing half-heartedly on the bar, pulling a face as the flavour clashes with the mint of his toothpaste before his gaze goes vacant while he looks down at the bedspread.

“Did you clean me or something before bed? I smell really good to say I’m this hungover. I don’t even feel gross. I mean...physically at least. Mentally, I feel like every sewer level in a horror game. Gross, annoying and entirely unnecessary but inevitable,” He’s rambling a little now and you frown, tilting your head at him. “God, I can’t remember the last time I was this hungover. Or maybe I’m still drunk, I’m not quite sure.” 

Rolling your eyes, you plump your pillows up and lean back as you watch him eat methodically. Hoseok isn’t exactly doing it fast but you get the impression that he’s got a severe headache going on and is trying to reduce aggravating it. You want to coo at him but feel it’s not the time to be doing that.

“No, that was you. You were adamant you wanted a shower and your teeth cleaned when we got back. I had to make sure you didn’t drown yourself because you got it into your head to drink the shower water and then had to brush your teeth for you because you have a bad gag reflex and kept stabbing yourself in the throat.” Hoseok winces at that, his hand coming to the said throat as he rubs it.

“That explains that then,” He mutters before looking at you a little bashful, his cheeks a tiny bit pink. “Sorry. I completely forgot that I became some weird clean freak when wrecked. There are worse things I could be though.” 

Nodding with a wry smile, you acknowledge his statement while he finishes eating before handing you the glass and empty wrapper. Placing them both on the bedside table, you go to move away when he suddenly lays back down. On his side of the bed this time.

You’re prevented from moving when he cuddles up to you, his arm wrapping around your waist tightly to pull you down while he rests his head on your chest with a heavy sigh. Hoseok doesn’t weigh too much, but he’s not exactly light either. No complaint leaves you though, not when you enjoy the feel of him pressed against you so much.

“I like your boobs. They’re soft.” He mutters and you can’t help but laugh, accidentally jerking his head as your chest moves violently but he doesn’t complain except for a soft noise that leaves him. Carding your fingers through his hair, you twist your lips in amusement as you wonder if he is a tiny bit drunk still.

“Thanks, I grew them myself.” Now he’s the one chuckling, leaving a kiss on your collarbone before sighing deeply. His weight seems to double as he relaxes against you but again, you don’t complain at him. Not yet anyway. You probably would in five minutes when he gets hot enough to feel like you’ve stepped into Mt. Doom.

“There’s some pictures of last night if you wanna see.” You tell him quietly, enjoying just cuddling with him as you play with the soft strands of his hair. He doesn’t respond for a moment and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep before he hums, shifting until his head is on your shoulder so he can see your phone. You’d brought it in with you and it had been on the bedside table until now, so you grab it and unlock it.

Clicking through Facebook, you show him some of the statuses that both his and your friends had made throughout the night along with the photos that had accompanied them. There was a particularly delightful photo that must have been taken after you’d left, of Jimin vomiting outside the bar while Yoongi and Jungkook pointed and laughed.

The two of you chuckle as you go through the photos, getting to see the night live out once more in visual form and Hoseok makes a few comments here and there. Chungha’s pictures went from relatively sweet selfies of her to selfies with Soyeon, Dahyun and you to what can only be described as drunken blurs. You’re pretty sure one of them is her making out with her girlfriend but you can’t quite tell.

What you can tell is Soyeon kissing Jungkook in the booth in the background of one of Taehyung’s photos. You point at it excitedly to Hoseok as you tell him that they must have got drunk enough to let their inhibitions go after you’d both left. Neither of them had responded to your excited texts yet though, causing him to laugh when you pout at not being able to find out if your matchmaking was truly successful.

“It seems like it was a good night. Not that I can remember anything.” Hoseok mumbles, his lips pursing in a cute pout and you gently tap them. You’ve migrated from looking at Facebook to Instagram, where the pictures are a little bit classier and more put together. No one wants to look bad on Instagram after all.

“I took some photos of us too, and Soyeon sent over some she’d taken.” There had been plenty of Hoseok on Facebook, all in various stages of him getting drunk until you could practically smell the alcohol on him through the screen. Not so many of you though, given that you’d purposefully avoided the camera throughout the night.

Though Soyeon had managed to capture one or two pictures of the two of you together from earlier in the night. Flicking through to your gallery, you let him see the photos as you scroll through them.

“I haven’t put them anywhere yet. Wanted to see what you thought.” Hoseok takes your phone from you, shifting slightly in bed to be more comfortable and scrolls back to one Soyeon had taken. Neither of you has drinks in your hands, nor are you even looking at the camera. 

Your arms are around his waist, front pressed to his side while his arm is wrapped around your shoulders. It’s almost sickening how much love and affection is painted onto your face as you smile up at him, your eyes softer than you’ve ever seen before. Anyone looking at this would easily be able to see how grossly in love you were with him.

But what made you love this photo was the fact that Hoseok was looking back at you with an equally disgusting amount of emotion. His smile was broad and genuine while his eyes were firmly focused on you. It was perhaps one of your favourite photos ever already and you weren’t surprised that Hoseok had focused on that.

“This one. We’re putting this one up.” He mutters quietly, already going to your Instagram before looking up at you with a questioning glance. Nodding your approval to him, he plays around with the custom filter settings until he has it looking exactly like he wants before posting it and sharing it to Facebook as well.

Before he gives your phone back, he scrolls through to another photo that you’d taken. It was a bit later in the night with Hoseok a little more drunk than he had been, but you kind of liked it too. A selfie this time, with your faces taking up the screen but your smile is so big as you laugh, eyes scrunched closed while Hoseok squishes a kiss against your cheek.

“I want this one,” With that, he sends it to himself before giving your phone back to you with a smile.  “Looks like I had a very good night. Wish I could remember it but...whatever. Did you enjoy it?”

Pausing, you place your phone back onto the table before wriggling down the bed to get more comfortable. You think hard on his question, contemplating whether you’d truly enjoyed yourself last night. Going to bars and parties were your least favourite thing to do and he was well aware of that. Combined with drinking, it was perhaps your worst-case scenario.

“I didn’t exactly enjoy it but...it was kind of fun. Nice to see everyone and talk to them. Funny to watch them getting drunk. Most of all, I liked watching you enjoy yourself. I’m glad that you got to have fun and do what you love with your friends for your birthday. I know that I don’t like drinking or going out but I never want to be like...an anchor holding you back, you know? So yeah, I enjoyed it more than I’d expected to.” Perhaps that was a little more honest than other people would be, but you didn’t see any point in lying to him.

He knew what you liked and didn’t like by now, you’d been dating almost a year after all. On top of that, Hoseok had been concerned that you wouldn’t enjoy yourself and would make yourself unhappy just to satisfy his want to get drunk with his friends. So you hoped him hearing that you’d enjoyed yourself more than either of you had anticipated would relieve his worries.

“Good. I mean, not good that you didn’t fully enjoy it but I think we both knew you were never going to really. I’m glad you came with me though. Means a lot to me.” He smiles at you, his expression bright despite the tiredness etched into his face.

“That’s why I did it. It was your day and I wanted to make you happy.” Your words are soft and gentle, more than a hint of shyness threaded through them. Would you ever truly get used to telling him emotional things like this?

You hoped so because he was always so comfortable showing his love and affection for you. But at the same time, that was just his love language. Yours was different, and you knew he appreciated that too.

“Well, you did. So thank you. And thank you for my presents, I love them. Do you mind if I set up the vinyl player here? Given I spend the most time here?” His question is innocent and you can sense there’s no expectation on you. You’d have to give up something to let him have space for it, but you know that if you told him no that he’d accept it without complaint.

But that led you to something you’d been contemplating for a while now. Perhaps much quicker than anyone would have thought you’d have started to think about this topic given how long it took you to admit your love to him or even just have sex. This was a much bigger life change, something that would affect both of you drastically and have the potential to truly make or break your relationship.

And yet you’d been unable to not think about it. Perhaps most surprisingly, you actively wanted what you were going to suggest.

“I mean...well, yes. I’m okay with it but, well I was thinking… M-m-maybe, I mean...do you want to...what do you think a-a-about-” You’ve devolved into the kind of nervous and awkward mess you’d been when you first met him and you know he’s both confused and worried. His head tilts up to look at you, brows furrowed together in confusion as to why you’re suddenly getting like this over a vinyl player.

“Baby? What’s wrong? Just say it. Whatever you’re thinking, just say it. I’m not gonna laugh or tease you. I mean...unless it’s funny and then I can’t be responsible for my actions.” Hoseok laments, his face scrunching as he realises he can’t be completely honest. It makes you smile though as he’s being truthful and you push at him till he’s moving off you.

Sitting up, you play with your hands as you stare at them, licking your lips nervously.

“Do you want to move in? I mean...or at least, move in together? T-t-this place probably isn’t big enough f-f-for us both to live here with y-y-your stuff but yeah. I’d like it, I think. I mean, I would. And you basically live here anyway. T-then you don’t have to pay full rent and stuff and we can share bills so i-i-it’d be better for us both, yeah? Unless...unless you don’t want to live with me. Then it’s okay. W-we can-” He cuts you off with his hand against your mouth, his eyes dancing in amusement despite how tired they look.

“Sweetheart, please let me respond before you talk yourself out of it, okay? You want us to move in together, correct?” Nodding slowly, you take a moment to glance over at him and see what his expression looks like. Whether he looks agreeable or not.

Hoseok has a carefully blank face at the moment and you swallow thickly, wondering if he’s going to reject you. It’s fine if he does, honestly. Some people don’t like living together properly. Having his own place means that he can escape from you if he’s had enough or something. You knew that you were a lot to deal with sometimes.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured into it or anything. I’m fine as it is now if you want to keep it like this. I know you like your own space after a while and I don’t want to intrude into it. Plus, this apartment is your home and it’s your safe space. I don’t want you to uproot yourself just because you think you should be doing it or anything.” He makes perfectly logical points and your heart expands with love for him at his acknowledgement of something that had been a concern for you.

You didn’t handle change well and while you were excited at the prospect of moving in with Hoseok, the knowledge that it would completely upend your life for a short while was terrifying. This apartment had taken a long time to get feeling like a home, to somewhere that you love and feel like you can recharge in.

It would take time to make whatever new place you get with him to feel like home too. And you wouldn’t be able to escape him by just going home or anything. He would be there all the time. You knew it also came with the added complication of entangling you both even more, making your lives and your hearts even harder to separate.

But you couldn’t stay coddled forever.

“I might struggle with it a bit at first but...I want to. I love being with you and you make me happy. I hate when you go home and I’m alone again, it’s harder to sleep without you here. You might not want it though but...I just thought I’d bring it up. We can talk about it more in-depth to make sure we’re on the same wavelength but...yeah. I don’t know if this is too early or too late in a relationship or anything, I just want to be with you.” You’re mumbling the words now, firmly looking away from his gaze which has softened progressively as you’d talked. They probably didn’t even make sense.

“No, no, don’t worry about it. There’s no such thing as the right time, just when we feel it’s right. But...I’d like it. I’ve been thinking about it too, I won’t lie. I always feel bad that I don’t pay anything here even though I spend so much time here but then my rent is more than yours anyway. I agree about finding somewhere new, a little bigger to cope with both of us. And give us somewhere to escape to when we’re annoying each other or something.” Now he’s the one looking away from you, rubbing at his jaw thoughtfully as he thinks.

The smile that begins on your face soon expands rapidly into a giant grin, excitement flooding through your veins along with a mixture of nerves, making it hard for you to stay still. He wanted to move in together! Live together, you were going to live together. Like have your names on a rental agreement and have mail addressed to both of you. 

“Oh, and we need to make sure it’s pet friendly for Kasumi.” Hoseok is still talking and you realise he’s been listing what you both should look for in a place. It seems that Hoseok wants to try and find an apartment if possible but he’d prefer a small house given the two of you both have a car. Understandable, given parking in the city was a pain.

There were many occasions when Hoseok had to park a few streets away as the apartment building parking lot was full. 

The thought of having a small home with him was even more exciting and you let out a small squeal of happiness. It’s only when Hoseok looks at you with wide eyes, shocked but also amused, that you realise what you’ve done and you look away from him, trying to ignore how you’ve gone hot with embarrassment.

“Oh, that was cute. Definitely cute. Yes, let’s do it. Let’s move in together.” Now he’s the one grinning and you can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, swaying him as much as you can while sitting on the bed. He lets you with a laugh before groaning as the movement makes his hangover worse.

“Just as long as you don’t decide to show me your helicopter dick every time you get drunk.” You say cheerfully, climbing out of bed to go make some lunch for you both. Already you’re decorating the new place in your mind, planning the perfect combination between you both and deciding what you want to keep from your place and his.

“I’m sorry, my what?”

[phykios]

honesty and promise me, part 4 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

 July twelfth dawns like any other day, Annabeth wrapped up in Percy’s sheets. She’s spent significantly more nights in his bed than she’s spent in her own apartment over the last two months, but who could blame her? This bed is literally to die for. Therapeutic mattress for the fucking win.

 Percy, to her greatest confusion and chagrin, is a morning person. Well, actually, what he is is someone who runs on very little sleep for three weeks at a time, before crashing headfirst into his bed for thirteen hours. It is a decidedly unhealthy way to live, but it means that Annabeth is used to waking up alone. The nights where she gets to wake up with Percy are the nicer ones, sure, but his presence is suffused in every corner of the room, his smell wafting from every piece of sweaty clothing tossed haphazardly about the floor, so much so that she never feels like she is truly waking up alone.

 Gross? A little. But the smell is oddly sexy, too, especially after he’s just come home from a run, all wet and glistening and flushed, panting hard--

 Ahem.

 The point is, when Annabeth rolls out of bed in one of Percy’s shirts (the one that says “Do You Even Lift, Bro?” with an image of a male dancer raising his partner, courtesy of one Jason Grace) and stumbles into the kitchen for one of Percy’s patented brunch specials, it’s a pretty normal morning. What catches her off guard is the spread: eggs and bacon, obviously, with fruit and granola and yogurt, but also an enormous tray of delicious, flaky croissants, perfectly crescent shaped, with little bowls of every condiment imaginable, multiple flavors of jams and preserves and Nutellas.

 “Bounjour, mademoiselle!” Percy says cheerfully from the oven, perfectly accented, bending over to take out a tray. “Ça va bien?”

 “Um… bonjour…” She pokes a croissant experimentally, and is equally delighted and dismayed to find that it is just as flaky as advertised.

 “Take a seat, these ones just need to cool for a bit and then we can get started.”

 Spring in his step, he opens the refrigerator, taking out the most beautiful cake Annabeth has ever seen in her entire life. Perfectly round, paper white, with little blue borders piped around the edge, but it’s got Annabeth feeling like she’s just been doused in cold water. “How the hell did you know it was my birthday?”

 Immediately, she knows it was the exact wrong thing to say. His eyes go wide as the saucers on the table, mouth open in shock. “It’s your birthday?”

 Goddammit. “Um.”

 “Why didn’t you say anything?”

 Because birthdays were inherently a dumb concept? Because her father had to be reminded of her birthday more often than not? Because her mother had stopped sending her birthday cards after she turned thirteen, calling them a waste of money and resources? “I don’t know,” she shrugs, dipping her finger into the strawberry jam. “I guess I just didn’t think it was a big deal. Ooh, does this have rosemary in it?”

 “Annabeeeeth,” he whines, plopping the cake onto the kitchen island. “I can’t believe you! I love birthdays.”

 “Well,” she flounders, attempting to duck his sudden attention, “what were you originally celebrating? I don’t usually think of cake as a brunch option.”

 He raises an eyebrow, not at all impressed with her attempts to change the topic, but he answers dutifully, “Originally, we were celebrating me being one month cig-free--”

 “Percy!” Annabeth gasps, clapping her hands delightedly, and a little exaggeratedly. “That’s great!”

 “But,” he continues, “now we’re definitely celebrating your birthday instead.”

 “Oh, come on!”

 “Nuh uh,” he chides, grabbing his phone and beginning to type something, “I am asking Nico to pick you up a birthday card as we speak.”

 Oh. “Nico’s coming?”

 “Well, this is his apartment. Part of the deal is that I make him breakfast. I think he’s bringing his boyfriend.”

 “Is… anyone else coming?”

 “Just a couple of people, my friends Frank, Grover, Rachel… I invited Hazel and Thalia, too, but I think Hazel told me she was busy, and you know Thalia. If it’s not at a crappy dive bar then the odds of her showing up are virtually none.” Percy pauses in his text, fixing her with an odd look. “You really don’t want anyone to know, do you?”

 How easily he reads her is a little disconcerting, and also a thought that she just can’t handle right now. “I just don’t like people making a big deal out of it. You know, it’s just another day. I’d much rather celebrate you quitting.”

 He holds her gaze for a beat, before smiling, finishing typing out whatever he was doing on his phone. “Yes, I am officially quitting. Cigarettes are terrible for you, and I do not have the money to keep up the habit. So, I swear,” he holds up a hand, “No cigarettes, no weed, no vaping. Not that I ever vaped before.”

 “Oh, never?” Annabeth teases.

 “Not ever.” He leans in, grinning that devastating grin that is seriously detrimental to her health. “You could not pay me enough.”

 “Good.” She goes to meet him, pressing her mouth to his, sweetly and chastely, but swiftly turning deeper, almost against their higher brain functions, like they only exist to be here in this moment, lips against lips, tongue and tongue. She’s always hated the taste of cigarettes, she prefers edibles to blunts, and anyone who vapes is automatically dropped from her list of potential partners… but she’s never minded the taste of ash on Percy’s tongue. It was just another part of him, another facet of the whole sexy package.

 Now, though, she has the full taste of him, unfettered and unfiltered, his morning coffee and his morning breath. It is disgusting, but again, oddly thrilling. This is Percy, stripped down and divested of all the trappings of blue lipstick and tight pants. She wonders what he thinks when he sees her like this, messy haired, face and ears empty of metal, last night’s mascara smudged all around her eyes. Given the way that he deliberately threads her hair through his fingers, winding the frizzy curls around him, pulling her close enough that the pristine cake is in danger from some serious smushing, she thinks he likes it just as much.

 Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on which perspective, either Percy’s, Annabeth’s, Nico’s, or the cake’s, their little impromptu makeout session has cold water dumped on it before they can end up doing it on the kitchen island. The sound of someone unlocking the front door is almost comically loud, and they break apart, equally red and flushing.

 “Gross,” says Nico di Angelo. “No heterosexuality allowed in my kitchen.”

 “Take that back, you biphobic ass,” Percy says. “I have never been heterosexual in my life.”

 “I’m not biphobic, I just don’t want to see you getting it on on my marble countertops.”

 “Speak for yourself,” chimes in Will, setting down a grocery bag right on the spot which would have been ground zero. “Hi, Annabeth.”

 “Hey, Will.”

 “Nice of you to join us today,” he says, as though he doesn’t see her here all the time.

 She offers her assistance in cooking or setting up, knowing full well that she will be firmly rebuffed--domestics are not her strong suit, by any stretch of the imagination--and is sent away with an iced coffee that Will has so thoughtfully bought for her instead of the birthday card she was dreading.

 Soon after, the party is in full swing.

 Well, she uses the term party loosely. It is fairly intimate, even with Nico’s enormous apartment making everything smaller. They have assembled an odd amalgamation of people: “You already know Nico,” Percy says, indicating the goth prince next to, “and Will,” his boyfriend, the perpetually cheery med student, next to, “and this is Frank,” a large, physically imposing man with a shy smile, next to, “Rachel,” a red-headed girl who looked like she just walked out of a paint shower, all making space for, “and my buddy Grover,” the guy in crutches who had immediately dropped into the single, out-of-decor, but extremely comfortable-looking loveseat Nico had placed nearest to the bathroom. All told, they look like the brochure for a community college who really, really wants to publicize how diverse their student body is, but with a kind of natural chemistry and camaraderie that those kids on that brochure could only dream of. “Everyone, this is Annabeth.”

 They greet her, each giving a limp wave.

 Then Percy leaves to attend to his brunch spread, but not before giving her a quick peck on the cheek. She can feel all eyes on them, hot and burning.

 Silence.

 “So,” Annabeth says, as awkward as a freshman in an orientation mixer. “What’s up?”

 “Your hair is amazing,” says Rachel.

 Hers is crusted with paint, a deep red that turns pink against the orange in the light, a close cousin to Annabeth’s, which is in dire need of a touchup, curls thrown in disarray by Percy’s grasping fingers. “Thanks, I--”

 “So how do you two know each other?”

 Annabeth blinks. “Friend of Thalia’s,” she says. “You?”

 “Used to do ballet together,” Rachel says, brusque, efficient. “Frank, too.”

 Frank waves again.

 A beat passes.

 Annabeth looks to Grover, who watches, bemused. “You, too, I take it?”

 Another second. Then he laughs, weird, but hearty, a joyful bleat. “Oh, sure,” he says. “I’m a regular Baryshnikov.”

 She can almost feel the room relaxing, heaving a sigh after holding its breath.

 “Are you with NYCB, too?” she turns to Frank, shoving her hands in her pockets, fingers curling around the fabric there.

 Shaking his head, he swallows his orange juice. “I mostly do modern and hip hop, now, music videos and stuff.”

 Objectively, she knows that you don’t have to be skinny as a rake or bodybuilding champion to dance, but Frank is neither of these, a huge, sweet-faced guy with a healthy layer of fat around his face and torso--a strict counterpart to Percy, who could give the Belvedere Apollo a run for its money. “Have I seen you in anything?” Not that she really watches music videos, but she figures it’s the polite thing to ask.

 “Um, maybe,” he shrugs, embarrassed. “I’ve been lucky enough to work with some really big people.” Though he offers no further details.

 “Working on anything cool?” She asks, doing her best not to cajole.

 He nods. “Percy and I have a thing coming out probably in the next month or so, with--ah, well. Can’t say.”

 “Tease,” Rachel grumbles, tossing back her mimosa. “I’ve been trying to get the secret out of him for months.”

 Frank smiles, secretive and a little smug. “Sorry. You’ll find out along with everyone else.”

 “Do you work together a lot?” Annabeth asks. She had thought that Percy was strictly ballet--though, she supposes dancers do crossover work more often these days, if only for the money.

 “Not as much as we used to, sadly,” he replies. “We actually lived together in Paris for a few years while he was contracted with the opera before I decided to come back home. Vancouver,” he adds at her unspoken question.

 “Bit of a hike, from Vancouver to New York,” says Grover.

 Frank shrugs. “I was in town anyway, and I haven’t seen Percy in about a year.”

 Annabeth frowns, doing some mental math. If Frank hadn’t seen him in two years, then that meant… that Percy had been alone in Paris all that time. The man thrives off of friendship and social interaction; no wonder he was jonesing to come back to America.

 “Remind me again how long you two were together?” Rachel asks, red hair bouncing as she cocks her head. A jolt goes down Annabeth’s spine, appraising Frank in an entirely new light.

 “On and off for about two years,” says Frank, thoughtful. “But I just lived with him to save money. The rent in Paris sucks.”

 “And you were the best roommate I ever had,” Percy says, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Clean, good cook, better kisser--”

 Frank shoves him away.

 “You’ve only ever had one other roommate, other than Nico or your mom,” Grover points out. “That one guy when you first moved overseas--Frodo? Fedora?”

 “Fyodor,” Percy corrects. “He was terrible. I didn’t know any Russian, he didn’t know any English, and our French wasn’t good enough to actually hash it out, so he just gave me a permanent cold shoulder.”

 “Kind of a low bar, don’t you think?”

 “And there was my roommate in Boston.”

 Sharply, she turns her head. “You lived in Boston?”

 “Yeah, for like a year. I told you I was with Boston Ballet for a little bit, didn’t I?”

 Pretty sure he didn’t. She almost opens her mouth to retort, to ask when and compare notes, to mention that she lived in Boston, too, before remembering who she is with, swallowing her words.

 “Fyodor hated you,” Frank hums, reentering the circle. He’d wandered away and returned with a croissant, dipped in chocolate.

 “Trust, me, the feeling was mutual.”

 “It must have been,” Frank says, “because I saw your new apartment after he kicked you out--that place made a shoebox look luxurious.”

 Something in Percy’s face almost falls when Frank says that. Annabeth is sure there is a story there.

 But Rachel laughs. “Annabeth, you have no idea. It was a      Chambre de bonne    ,” she says, exaggerating the accent, “which might sound super fancy and French and cool, but trust me, it wasn’t at all. It was this size.” She slaps the kitchen island, a little too hard, her third mimosa making her loose-limbed and loud. “When I visited for Thanksgiving that year      I     had to pay for the heating bill, because Percy basically refused.”

 “It was cozy,” Percy mutters, suddenly very preoccupied with the half a croissant on his plate.

 “It was not.” Rachel says. “It was sad and cold and small.”

 Nico looks interested, but not nearly as boisterous as Rachel or Frank, “Was that the place…”

 “Ye,” Percy cuts him off, “Yes it was.” He smiles, Stepford-strained. “But, then Frank came to town, and so did his grandmother’s money.” He slaps Frank on the back. “And I got a bathtub.”

 “I still can’t believe that a ballet dancer lived anywhere for two years without a place to soak,” Frank says, shuddering.

 “I can’t believe you waited until Frank got to Paris to get yourself a sugar daddy,” Grover quips. Percy throws a grape at him. Grover, to her immense surprise, manages to catch it in his mouth.

 Annabeth can’t really be impressed. This is the second time someone has brought up Percy and Frank having a history. Something hot and angry curls in her stomach. But Percy is laughing.

 Rachel laughs too. “Oh, he didn’t wait,” she says. “He had a bevy of sugar mommies for trips to Ibiza and Moscow and Beijing.”

 “It was Tokyo,” Percy says, “and they weren’t my Sugar Mamas.” He turns to Annabeth, sheepish, but not actually shameful. “They weren’t. Honestly.”

 “Uh huh.”

 “They were mostly Kym’s friends, and sometimes we’d go out when they were in town, and if we had fun, they’d invite me wherever they were going next. And if I didn’t have to work, I’d go with.”

 “I have heard rumors,” Will says, popping his head in, Nico attached to his hip, “of Percy Jackson, boy toy of the rich and famous of Europe. Is it true?”

 “Yes,” Grover and Rachel say at once.

 “Do you want to hear about that, Will?” Percy asks, “Or would you rather hear about the summer Nico came to stay with me and Frank before he started college, and slept with every single dancer in Europe except Frank?”

 Nico waves him off. “Only because you were already sleeping with him, cause he was your sugar daddy. Not like I needed the money.”

 “It wasn’t like that.” Frank says.

 “And now that we’ve aired all of my dirty laundry,” says Percy, “I need to borrow Annabeth for a second.” Gently, but with force, he tugs her arm, his other hand around her waist, directing her where to go like she’s one of his dance partners. Usually, she minds--a lot. She’s not about to let anyone, let alone a man, tell her where to go--but, you know, it’s Percy. Alone time with him is never a bad thing.

 He pulls her into the hallway, shoving his hand into his pocket. “What’s up?” she asks.

 “So.” Mouth open, he pauses for a moment, just… looking at her. His eyes are soft, warm like the first day of spring.

 “What?”

 “Uh, nothing,” he shakes himself a little, pulling his hand out. “Sorry, I just--I know you said you didn’t want anyone making a big deal out of your birthday…”

 Oh, no. She braces herself for the worst.

 Uncurling his fingers, he reveals his present for her.

 “It’s… a pin?”

 “Yeah,” he smiles. “Remember when I took my sister to the Met a few weeks ago? They were having that thing on Egyptian jewelry? Well, of course we had to stop in the gift shop, and I saw this and just--you know, thought of you.”

 It is a pin--one of those lapel pins that more often than not are added to a collection usually displayed on a backpack. This pin is a silhouette she recognizes instantly: the Parthenon, its columns and angles rendered in sterling silver, little grooves dug into the metal in an approximation of the fluting.

 “Wow,” she breathes. “Thank you.”

 “It was nothing.” His ears are pink. “Happy birthday.”

 And then he hugs her.

 After a moment, she hugs him back.

 It’s amazing how she can have had sex with someone so many times, but feel so awkward giving them a hug.

 “I didn’t, um, tell anyone else,” he says, pulling back. His hands linger on her shoulders, thumb tapping at the base of her neck. “But, I kept meaning to give this to you, so, you know, now was as good a time as any, yeah?”

 “I love it,” she says, honestly. Which surprises her. “Thank you.”

 She slips it into her own pocket, not even minding the sharp corners.

 When they return, Nico has already cut into the cake. “You were taking too long,” he snips.

 It really is delicious. Much, much later, Percy sends her home with a sweet, soft kiss, and one of the last remaining slices, rather than staying for dinner.

 Percy is the kind of boy who goes to his mother’s for dinner every week. She had been invited, but also threatened with the promise of another cake, and his ten year old sister, who would “love to make you a present.”

 It sounded nice, but Annabeth knew when she wasn’t really wanted, and so she demurred, citing a need for some solo downtime.

 She hasn’t heard from Thalia in, like, four days, which meant she had probably gotten a short-term gig. (“You’re lucky, she’s had Jason paying for her phone the whole time you’ve known her. Before that, she was almost impossible to get ahold of.”) Piper would take her out to dinner tomorrow, “just because.” But they would both know it wasn’t true.

 So, to refresh and relax after a long, harrowing day of socializing, Annabeth goes home.

 Or at least to her apartment.

 It doesn’t have a doorman, or the views, or the room, like Nico’s place. Nor does it have any of the people, the energy, the joy. Her furniture doesn’t fill it up. The most appetizing thing in her kitchen are the granola bars Percy had made the week before, or maybe the brownies he made four days ago. She sets her to-go bag of cake and croissants down next to them, a smorgasboard of Percy’s culinary prowess.

 Despite the long hours, her clothes still smell a little like last night’s bar, and her skin has a faint patina of dried sex sweat, and smudged makeup.

 She doesn’t want to start leaving things at Percy’s place--don’t want him to get the wrong idea--but she also occasionally needs to be able to touch up her eyeliner. She’s either going to have to find a bag that isn’t embarrassing to carry, or surreptitiously shove some eyeliner and lipstick next to the condoms in Percy’s nightstand next time they have a sleepover. Or raid Nico’s bathroom.

 Regardless, she needs a wash something bad.

 As she scrubs down, she does her best to focus on the lemon scent of her body wash, and not Percy’s perfect form, dripping with water. She tries to visualize her last trip to Sephora, not blowing him under the hot water.

 It doesn’t really work, so she gets herself clean and gets herself off and considers just spending the rest of the day naked, in case the mood strikes her again. But it's only 5PM, and she doesn’t have Percy to cook her some dinner tonight, so she sucks it up and puts on some pants.

 When she had visited Boston for work a couple of months back, Alex had insisted on taking her shopping, complaining that her sister and her friend Mallory didn’t understand Versace quite like Annabeth did, and that Blitz sucked all the fun out of fashion, anyway. Then, she had bullied Annabeth into buying a set of sweats, claiming it was because of the Grecian patterns, but probably because she thought Annabeth in that much purple would be funny.

 But eventually, she had wheedled, cajoled, and threatened Annabeth into buying a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. After deciding to forgo a bra, because that is just one more area she has always fallen short in, she shoves on a School of Architecture underneath them. The crimson clashes terribly with the lavender and seafoam, but she kind of likes it. Piper would call it “artfully nauseating,” or something.

 Besides, no one is going to see her but her delivery guy. And if someone did see her, someone like Thalia or Percy, well, the clashing colors would be the least of her worries.

 She is folded into her couch, wedged into the corner, very much      not     looking up Paris Ballet clips from the past few years, trying to spot Percy in the background, when there is a knock on her door.

 Not for the first time, she curses her lack of doorman--and then frowns. Who even knows where she lives?

 Piper and Leo? Magnus and Alex?

 Has she already ordered food and just forgotten?

 Is memory loss a side effect of a SK-II mask no one had warned her about?

 Tentatively, she creeps towards the door, opening it slowly. If this were a horror movie, the door would creak open, revealing the villain cast in the shadows of the hallway, holding his weapon of choice.

 She sighs.

 The man is only a few inches taller than her, and dressed impeccably in a t-shirt and jeans that probably cost half a year of her rent-- a big critique coming from her, since she wears a month of her own rent as sweats. His blond hair is impeccably combed, his tennis shoes impeccably white, and his smile the most charming thing you can find this side of the Brooklyn Bridge.

 “Happy birthday, girly,” he says, giving her an awkward, one-armed hug, trying to avoid getting any of her facemask on his shirt.

 “What are you doing here?”

 “It's your birthday,” he reminds her, holding up the bag. “I told you I’d stop by last week.”

 Had he? Maybe, and she’d just been too drunk or hung over to really process it. But maybe he’d also meant to, and then failed to follow through. Luke has a bit of a nasty habit of treating his intentions as the same as his actions. His intentions are good, usually, but it means that he often ignored the actual actions. Like how his intention was to support his mother in the best nursing home in the northeast, but his action was to work with Saturn, a very shady hedge fund, to facilitate it. Or how his intention was to have someone at a stuffy party to talk to, but his action was dressing up Annabeth as his arm candy because none of Piper’s models would call him back anymore. He hasn’t asked her to do that since, like, February though, thankfully.

 “Sorry,” Annabeth says. “I just… you know I don’t like my birthday.”

 He also has a bit of a habit of ignoring her distaste in a really blatant way.

 He’s a little like Percy that way, actually.

 She’d only ever told Luke about her birthday back in those embarrassing freshman days, when she’d thought he looked as good on paper as any Harvard MBA student possibly could, with a devastating smile to match. She’d been so convinced that he would be the right boyfriend that might finally get her mother’s approval, and she figured that her future husband should know her birthday.

 “Come in,” she says, reaching for the bag, but he shakes his head and brushes past her, dumping his black back on the coffee table. Graciously, he doesn’t look at her as he starts to empty out its contents, giving her an opportunity to dart back to her bathroom and peel off her facemask. Luke would forgive designer sweats, but they aren't at the “just chilling in a facemask” level of a relationship.

 When she returns, there is a small assembly line arranged on her coffee table: a stack of paper plates, a carton of Haagen Daas, forks and spoons, and a Milk Bar cake, all wrapped in its box.

 “Is Milk Bar still the ‘it’ thing?” she asks. “With locations all over the country, I figured it would be passé by now.”

 “I know it’s your favorite,” Luke says. “I don’t always have to choose the most popular thing.”

 Milk Bar had been her favorite, that is true, right up until she’d started fucking Percy Jackson, and eating his food.

 “Thanks,” she says, cutting herself a slice, and scooping herself some ice cream.

 “That’s all you’re going to get?” he asks, cutting himself a sliver.

 “I have had so much cake today,” she says. Milk Bar really isn’t as good as Percy's, but it reminds her of birthdays in high school, waiting for her mother to visit, sneaking out when she inevitably didn’t, convincing the local bad boy to buy her some alcohol. She eats it, eagerly.

 Luke’s jaw drops. “You had a birthday cake? By choice? On your birthday?”

 She shakes her head, swallowing. “No, I was at a party with some friends. They didn’t even know it was my birthday,” Until she had stupidly revealed it. Whatever. She just has to make sure he’s been excised from her life by this time next year. And maybe freeze some of his baked goods beforehand.

 Luke doesn’t let her go through with her evening plans, which consisted basically of watching      Legally Blonde     for the gazillionth time while she slurped down some pierogies, but he capitulates to      Roman Holiday    , helping her put away the leftover cake and ice cream. “Thanks,” she says, when the movie was done. “I’m glad you came over. “

 No one ever comes over. Thalia is her best friend, but Thalia would have questions about how she could afford the place, Piper never understood why she’d moved out here at all, and Percy… Percy was irrelevant. There is no reason for him to come here.

 “I always like to see my best girl.” He smiles at her, charming and rogueish.

 “If all those models you keep trying to date know that your best girl is an architect who lives in Brooklyn who you actually feed, that’s probably why they don’t want to date you back.”

 Luke laughs, leaning over and knocking his shoulder against her own. “None of those girls could hold a candle to you.”

 “God, you must be a terrible boyfriend.”

 “Probably,” he agrees, sitting up and stretching, before reaching back to the bag he brought the cake in. “After all, you are the one I bring all the nice presents. But I think I’m a pretty good friend.”

 He takes out a box, burnt orange, a black ribbon wrapped around it, because Luke is nothing if not predictable.

 Annabeth sighs internally, quietly reminding herself that money is how Luke shows his love. And that she is wearing Versace sweats.

 “Herm  é  s,” she says, pulling off the ribbon. “This box looks too small for a Birkin.”

 “Do you want a Birkin?” he asks. “I can get you a Birkin.”

 “I probably don’t need a Birkin,” she admits. Though maybe it would be nice to have one in her closet, if her mom ever calls her up for lunch again. She could show up with a Birkin and an eyebrow ring. Sweet revenge.

 Luke waves a hand. “It doesn't matter if you need one, just if you want one.”

 Inside the box is a scarf, the silk soft and smooth between her fingers, a pleasing gradient of oranges and reds and pinks and corals. When she unfolds it, laying it out before her, she finds a sharp, geometric design, columns stacked together like skyscrapers. Luke obviously had her in mind when he picked it out.

 “Thanks,” she says. It’s pretty--perfect for an ambitious young architect with two degrees from Harvard who had moved to New York City with an offer from one of the best architecture firms in the world. And Annabeth has no idea where she could possibly want or need to wear it.

 “Hey,” Luke says, suddenly soft, “don’t cry.”

 Shocked, she reaches her hand up to her face. It’s wet.

 Luke is probably the only person she will let herself cry in front of. She’d spent three years doing that in college. He’d seen her through heartbreak and hangovers, guiding her through it all like an aloof big brother.

 “I’m okay,” she hiccups, wiping her nose.

 He hands her a napkin.

 Annabeth blows her nose, wet and gross. “I’m sorry, I promise I’m alright.”

 “You sure?” He sounds sincere, but she catches him glancing down at his wrist.

 “Do you have a date?”

 “I…” At least he has the decency to look sheepish. “Just some guys at work. You can come, if you want.”

 It could be fun. Hanging out with Luke can be fun. Get a little lit, take a business bro home, screw his brains out, send him on his way. But there’s an unspoken dress code to these things, and Annabeth just doesn’t wear Louboutins anymore. And the idea of fucking a business bro just… doesn’t hold any appeal right now.

 “No thanks,” she nods, using the clean edge of the napkin to wipe her eyes. “I am going to watch      The Search For Elle Woods    , and you're going to strike out with some models, and everyone is going to be happy.”

 “You really are so mean to me.” Luke complains, as she walks him to the door, before giving her another hug. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

 “I am.” She is different and new, but Luke is still her friend. She had survived. It would be okay.

 “Well, call me if you need something.” He kisses her cheek, sweetly, without any heat. Perfectly platonic. “I love you very much. Happy birthday.”

 “Thanks,” she says, “I’ll see you around.”

 “Always.” And he is gone.

 She folds the scarf, going to put it in the dresser in her room, shoving it among a handful of accessories, gathering dust. She realizes, with a start, that she’s left a week’s worth of clothes all over her room on the way to the shower, and, with a sigh of adulthood, and the knowledge that if she doesn’t follow the ADHD gods and pick them up now, they’ll be there for weeks, languishing on her floor and stinking up the place, she goes to at least move them into her hamper. She rifles through ripped jeans and band t-shirts and black socks as she goes, checking each for anything like discarded change or a bus pass she doesn’t want to wash.

 She shakes out the pants she’d worn out the night before, and therefore the entire day until she’d gotten home. There is a rather unfortunate stain on the knee that she can’t quite parse--ketchup? Chocolate?

 Then she reaches into the pockets, touching metal, and she suddenly remembers her other birthday present for the day.

 Pulling out the pin, she feels strange, hot in the face, funny in the belly, tossing the jeans haphazardly in with the dirty laundry. It's small and shiny, cheap metal for mass market production, and yet, she walks it over to the dresser, laying it down on the silk scarf like it's the diamond broach her aunt gave her for her sixteenth birthday.

 She really is beyond Hermès scarves now. But that pin? Well, you never really can get more Annabeth--the middle school know-it-all, teenage debutante, college perfectionist, New York yuppy, or barfly and punk princess--than one of the greatest architectural achievements in human history.

 She is still a little shocked by how much she loves it. How much it means to her that Percy saw that it was perfect for her.

 And like so many times when she is confronted with an emotion she doesn’t like, she slams the door closed, and goes and watches a favorite movie from high school.

 She does order dinner, eventually, setting out her meal in between texting Piper about brunch tomorrow. It's a whole thing, pretending that they’re not going out for her birthday, but eventually they agree on a time and a place, and she can eat her sausage and watch everyone practice the Bend and Snap in peace.  

 So she is very annoyed when her phone buzzes again.

 Maybe the reservation fell through. Or maybe she doesn’t want Annabeth to show up in ripped fishnets, even though that only happened once.

 Her stomach sinks when she checks her phone. It isn’t Piper.

Hello Dear, Happy Birthday. We miss you. Please call anytime. Love Dad, Mary, and the boys.  

 Below the text is a link, leading to a gift certificate for $200 to Sephora, which has Mary’s name written all over it. Aunt Natalie would have suggested Bergdorf Goodman.

 Her hand clenches, momentarily overcome with the urge to hurl her phone against the wall. But there is no one around, so there wouldn’t be any point to it.

 She stabs at a pierogi with a chopstick, and watches the girls dance on screen, humming along.

 She passes out on the couch after midnight.

 Her mother never called.

[yolkyeomie]

Iced Americano | lee jeno

summary — you don’t even like coffee anymore, so why do you have an iced americano in your hands now?

word count — 2k words

pairing — jeno x gender neutral!reader

genre — coffee shop + college au, my sad attempt at humor but really it’s just me kinda losing my mind in the middle of writing this

disclaimer — this was originally made for a close friend of mine so reader is heavily based off of her! also ignore any and all typos thank you

You'd like to say you’re rather good at talking to people

Sure you may have a rather small friend group, but still

The size of your friend group doesn’t equate to how good at socializing you are

Besides !!!

Everyone finds it really easy to approach you and you're really kind back to them !!

That is if they come to you with the right attitude

So it’s not hard to say you’re known very well throughout the campus of ur university

I mean you’re not like POPULAR POPULAR but you’re nice attitude makes people just gravitate towards you a lot

And you liked that!! The attention made you feel validated and loved

was today one of those days where everyone is just super nice to you?

Yeah !!

haha no it wasn’t really

you tolerate a lot of stuff okay

You juggle a lot of responsibilities on your back while still trying to keep in touch with your friends so they don’t feel like you’ve abandoned them or something

but it was REALLY hard tryna keep up with everything

especially when your close friend group was full of boys who didn’t know the exact meaning of organization

trying to keep them situated before they went and burned themselves out was HARD

and then trying to manage yourself at the same time??

sometimes you were ready to throw yourself off the top of fifty story building

and unfortunately for you

today was just one of those days

thankfully it wasn’t because your friends are a genuine mess but

Uni is HARD

as a college student you must put up with a lot of… stuff

I mean some professors can be,,,,, UNKIND to say the least

But usually they were rather lenient and understanding !!

Except for this one. professor.

They always seemed like they were on the verge of losing their mind

And toda must have been the perfect day for them to do that

because your professors summoned the LITERAL devil from within to torture everyon in your clas

But especially you

so let’s just say you’ve been scolded a lot and given wayyyy too much work for no absolute reason

you’re about this close to bashing your head against the wall but you gotta hang on

YOU'RE NOT IN COLLEGE FOR NOTHING AFTER ALL!!!

so you find yourself absently complaining about how much work you have to do today and your friends are like

“That’s tough,,, I’m so sorry [y/n]”

what else can they say really??? they aren’t in your major and they can’t really understand your struggles even tho they wish they could

Well scratch that

they don’t want to understand because that’s ANOTHER work load of information that would constantly be rattling in their heads

Haechan had decided to become a computer engineer when he decided to pick up a major, so his brain was just always fried

Jisung was still trying decide what he wanted to go into and chenle was very serious about becoming a business just so he could accumulate as much money as he possibly could

You always forget what Jaemin had decided to major in, but it wasn’t very interesting to you in the first place

And renjun had decided to major in some form of art, the easier out the four majors mentioned before

Or at least you thought they were easy

Either way TRUST AND BELIEVE if jaemin knew just a little about your major and was able to witness the unfairness in front of him

he’d probably get expelled

anyways renjun had noticed you just getting ready to cry in the corner about how overworked you were

and for once in his life decided to try and help out, not with work tho

why would he ever help with work

“do you want something to eat??? Maybe drink??? I know this place near us that we can go to”

“Thank you so much I’d love to eat and drink and pass out and do nothing about this work when I get home”

yes that’s exactly what you wanted to and nothing was about to stop you

anyways you two were hanging out with each other either way, so it worked very well in ur opinion

You walking down this street towards some restaurants and stores while you were chatting

trying to decide where you wanted to settle down and rest like renjun has suggested

but you uh

notice something strange

you’re passing all the places you usually like to eat at because

renjun kept saying no?

he didn’t want to go to ANY of your usual hangout spots?????

WHY IS RENJUN PASSING ALL YOUR HANGOUT SPOTS??

They were hangout spots for REASON.

good atmosphere, good food, nice people??? they’reperfect !!

so why was he declining every single one of them???

“Hey renjun,,,, where are we going”

“?? To get something to eat and drink??????”

“No like WHERE ARE WE GOING?????”

“TO GET SOMETHING TO EAT AND DRINK WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN???????????”

you two started getting into a small argument, you being annoyed that he was declining every suggestion you through and him being annoyed that you kept question his choices

that was, until he finally stopped

“Oh perfect!! we’re here!!”

You turned to look at him and find that he’s standing in front,,,

,,,, a coffee shop

COFFEE shop????

you’re more of a SODA WATER TEA JUICE ANYTHING BUT COFFEE PERSON

well your parents drink coffee and all no doubt

and when you were a kid you used to drink coffee ALL OF THE TIME

you always had to get your own cup because you’d drink all of your parents’ under ten mins

but uh as you got older

it started to taste

worst?

you started to lose the taste for coffee as you got older and it was just downhill from there

*one sip* “THATSHS HORRIAVKE”

it really surprised your parents

and jaemin

but no one ever wants to drink jaemin’s coffee

please you watched renjun and haechan almost DIE from drinking it, coffee and choking and everything

when jaemin asked jisung to try it as a joke he bursted into tears

when chenle was presented the opportunity he cash apped him money and ran for it

please you almost PUNCHED jaemin for even thinking of making you try it

maybe it’s partly jaemin’s fault you can’t drink coffee anymore

“renjun uh,,,,, I don’t want coffee,,,?? You know I don’t drink that stuff. do they have like anything but that”

“yeah they have coffee coffee and coffee”

“literally,,, you’re the worst”

“No thanks :D”

yeah so you got dragged into the coffee shop

it wasn’t vsco girl Starbucks level inside

it was really small

only a couple of tables scattered about with white cloth covering them and little lights strung up along the walls to make the ambience of the room nice and cozy

There was a small chalkboard menu on the counter as well, with the day’s special and little drawings of flowers and animals around the words.

it was really cute you can’t lie

There was an even larger menu behind the really cute cashier at the cash register that detailed all of the drinks they sold as well

there was also— wait what

back track back track THERE'S A REALLY CUTE CASHIER AT THE CASH REGISTER

PAUSE BECAUSE YOU'RE ENTIRE BODY F R O Z E ON THE SPOT

“[y/n] you there”

“[y/n]?”

“[y/n] move you're blocking the door”

listen you’re not HORRIBLE at communication, it was definitely one of your strong suits in life

But this???

You were practically malfunctioning at this point

seriously you felt like you were in a romance show

you made eye contact with him and nearly tripped over your own two feet

how did you fall so head over heels for this guy so quickly???? He hadn’t even said a WORD

“Can I take your order?”

“Can you what?”

oh god oh god OH GOD HES TALKING TO YOU

wait he’s supposed to do that it’s his job

your eyes looked down towards the name tag pinned onto the apron he wore

lee jeno

wow… you could say his name for hours and never get tired of it

renjun is just kinda,,,, staring at you to get a move on

oh no did he already order

DID HE ALREADY ORDER WHILE YOU WERE ZONING OUT

NO YOU ARE NOT READY WAIT

WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO?? YOU DONT EVEN LIKE COFFEE

“excuse me? are you ready to order?”

he gave you an amused smile and god it felt like the sun was shining down on you

Jeno was getting more ethereal with every word that came out of his mouth

but you couldn’t keep him waiting you were embarrassing yourself

you stared at the board above him and just blurted out whatever you saw first

“I-I I’ll have a uh iced americano…”

What's even in americanos?????

you hoped it wasn’t gross,,,

if it was it would REALLY awkward having to ask for a bunch of sugar packets to sweeten it

but then jeno smiled at you

“okay! can I have your name please?”

“,,, uh [y/n]”

“[y/n].... what a pretty name for a pretty person”

please god you are about to explode

HE CALLED YOUR NAME PRETTY AND YOU P R E T T Y AT THE SAME TIME??

anyways you’re losing your mind if you can’t tell

and renjun thinks your brain might be on emergency mode right now

and that’s not what youneed is it now?

so he decided to save you the embarrassment and pay for the drinks himself and push you towards one of the tables

you’re seated away from jeno so that you don’t melt into a little puddle if he catches you staring

which you did a lot more then you’d like to admit

“okay so he’s definitely flirting with you”

“AND THAT'S SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER???”

“uh yeah? you’re supposed to feel better after knowing someone is genuinely flirting with you”

“RENJUN.”

you love renjun but rn you wanna punch him because HNG YOU DON'T KNOW BOW TO HANDLE THIS RIGHT NOW

“please let’s not think about this right—“

“He’s staring at you”

“He’s WHAT”

please renjun is laughing so hard this is incredibly funny to you

no he wasn’t looking at you he was making someone’s coffee

perhaps your coffee???

or whatever the HELL renjun has ordered

but you saw jeno stop for a moment and glance at you

and the minute he realized you were looking at him too he started BEAMING

LIKE HE WAS OUTSHINING THE SUN

“RENJUN RENJUN RENJUN RENJUN—“

“I’m right here calm down”

“Miss [y/n]?”

PAUSE PAUSE PAUSE

your name sounds really nice coming from him

how did you not notice that before !!!!

“[y/n] your Americano“

“RIGHT”

you move like a robot over to jeno

are you so nervous???? AND YOU'LL PROBABLY NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN

UGH LIFE IS CRUEL

He’s all smiley and giving you the SWEETEST SMILE and jeno’s like “your americano !! I hope you enjoy it, I made it with a lot of love !!

someone send help right now

he made yours with a lot of LOVE

“ ahh !! Thank you!!!”

“I advise you to not drink americanos tho,,, they don’t suit you”

???? what does that mean

“You should try our caffe mocha, it’s sweeter than what you’re drinking now. Just like you !! I’m jeno btw”

YOU SLY BASTARD

I c what u did there

“AHHHHHH THANKS ??? I UH IM [Y/N] NICE TO MEET YOU”

you’re so stupid he already knows your name

well you already know his name you were staring at his name tag

but you’re having a sensory overload so it’s okay

renjun snickers from the back, tho highkey realizing he hasn’t received HIS DRINK YET AND MIGHT THROW A FIT

though eventually he got his drink so he was happy then, tho still a little annoyed with how love struck you were with jeno

you did have to drag him out of the coffee shop because he was going to make a complaint flirting cuz he was getting tired of it

oh and you?

After a few (many) visits you can say you definitely like caffe mochas now

but you did keep getting iced americanos every time you visited

the sweet boy who makes them the drinks always makes yours with lots of love

[sanderssideswriting]

Youtuber Life Chapter 4

Ships: familial sleepxiety and eventual Prinxiety

Words:???

triggers: attempted suicide mention

first  last  next

Summary: Remy Sanders is a famous beauty vlogger and just moved to LA with his teenage son Virgil after their location was leaked by fans. Remy AKA CoffeeAddiction has several million subscribers. Virgil also has a secret Drama channel, where he doesn’t show his face and uses a voice modifier. He just hit a million subs and grows more everyday because of the level of production his videos have, the mystery around who he is and the fact that he ALWAYS has the latest information regarding youtube drama.

“Welcome back to another episode of “the fuck did she say now? I have a DID drama update. I’ve been waiting awhile to gather information to do a long segment. Since she first came out about having DID which has been disproven time and time again she’s tried to make it more believable in the stupidest way possible. By reviewing Chick-Fil-A’s spicy chicken sandwich, five fucking times. I watched all those videos plus others to see if she’s trying to keep up the lie. She’s really not. I swear every time I have to give her my views to tell you all what’s going on I die a little inside.”

“Who are you talking about?”

“DAD! Read the fucking sign! I’m recording!”

“Are you talking about Trisha?”

“Yes dad, now let me tell them about her.”

“She’s a total bitch! I fucking hate her!”

“WE KNOW! Damn it, now I’m going to have to edit all this out.”

“I’ve been looking into DID. And it’s actually a very interesting topic, and I encourage everyone to learn more about it. There will be links to videos and article on DID in the description. DisociaDID has not been on social media very much since all of this. I know they attempted suicide. Not because of Trisha or atleast only partly. Nin the systems host was dating someone in another system called Team Piñata who was discovered to be doing some shit I will not mention because it’ll get demonetized. I actually feel really bad for they system, it seems like they have been going through a lot recently. Now for all the OTHER shit Trisha has said and done over the past few weeks.”

Virgil edited the video and posted it, making sure to edit out the bit where his dad interrupted him and called Trisha a bitch.

Roman texted him.

Roman: You’re a meme Virgil: I’m well aware, fucking Jake Paul Roman: I thought you hated the guy, why are you fucking him? Virgil: I’m so fucking done with you

“VIRGIL!”

Virgil rolled his eyes “What?”

“I have in idea for a video get your ass down here!”

Remy was in front of the camera “K, so what if I mixed all of my eyeshadow together into one?”

“First of all Cristine did that with nail powder and polish and Safiya did that already in one of her weird make up science videos. Second, scraping the eyeshadow would kill you to watch.”

“UGH! You’re right, what else could I do?”

“A Bob Ross painting on your face. you could use only drug store products for something,”

“Bob Ross painting with drugstore shit!”

Virgil shrugged “yeah sure, you could also get lip gloss mix it together and try to make something really fucking weird, or do that with gel polish”

“I refuse to touch lip gloss, it’s fucking gross.”

“Bob ross painting not on your faces with lip gloss and other lipsticks.”

Remy nodded “thanks Virgil, you’re helping my buy it later.”

��No, people at school could see me, you can order it,”

“that’s less fun though,”

Virgil rolled his eyes “fine dad, I just need to make sure that no one can recognize me.”

He was ready pretty fast, with a light brown wig and blue contacts he also had close that where black and purple reserved for the occasion.

“Hello everyone! We are in the car today at our local Walgreens because we’re going to be buying lipstick, lip gloss and lip liner to make a Bob Ross painting!” 

“Not on your face.”

“Not on my face, fuck lip gloss.”

“I wasn’t aware that was a kink or whatever.”

Remy glared at Virgil “smartass, you can walk home.”

“Gladly, I’ll be laughing when I see you trying to film and carry everything and talk and pay the cashier. You’ll be a meme.”

“You already got memed once this week, I’ll meme you myself if I have to. Or I could turn you into an E-Girl, you did lose that bet.”

“I absolutely despise you,”

Remy laughed “no you don’t.”

“I really do, and you can’t make me e an e-girl.”

“No, but the people can, there’ll be a poll right here, vote should my intern be an e-girl for the day?”

Virgil groaned “times like these make me wish I was aborted.”

Remy laughed.

The rest of the video went ok and no one recognized Virgil.

Raccoon: I hate life Dukey: I saw, I voted yes, you’d make a wonderful e-girl hiss hiss motherfucker: so did I, suffer bitch Raccoon: you’re both traitors  hiss hiss motherfucker: at least we’re not going to be an e-girl

Virgil was pissed the whole week. “What’s up with you Dr. Gloom?” Roman asked.

“Made a bet with Remus, and lost, I’m going to commit toaster bath.”

Roman made a face “why would you make a bet with my brother? nothing good comes out of it.”

“I thought I’d win, turns out he’s totally willing to eat deodorant if it means I’ll have to dress like an e-girl for a day and make a tiktok.”

Roman laughed “I cannot wait to see you dressed as an e-girl.”

“I can, I’ll be locking myself in my room all day.”

“I’m surprised Remus didn’t say you’d have to walk around in public like that.”

“He did, but he can’t see me, so I’ll be in my room.”

Remy was in front of the camera. “Time for you to become an e-girl!”

“I’d like to say a very special fuck you to everyone who voted yes and that after this I’m going to commit toaster bath,”

“It’s one day, you’ll be fine.”

“One day in my room with the door locked and curtains closed.”

Remy laughed “oh no gurl, you’ll be going out, I suggest you make plans.”

“WHAT? That wasn’t part of the deal!”

“I thought it would go without saying you’d have to go outside.”

Virgil just glared, happy his face wasn’t in frame.

The makeover took well over an hour. when it was over he looked almost unrecognizable, thankfully.

Virgil: Hey, anyone want to hang out, my dad’s kicking me out of the house for the day says I need to be “social” whatever the means Princey: So you do need to go out as an e-girl Virgil: unfortunately, anyone free? Logan: I have to study and Patton is out at the animal shelter volunteering, Roman? Princey: I’m free, meet you at the mall? Virgil: Sure

“Dad! I’m going to hang out with Roman see you later.”

“Have fun on your date!”

“dad! It’s not a date!” He slammed the door and left.

Virgil waited in a café for Roman. He got an iced coffee as always.

Someone shoved him while he was waiting in line.

“What are you? A boy or a girl make up your mind,”

Virgil didn’t look up from his phone “gender is a spectrum and gender norms are fake and I refuse to give into toxic musicality and if you have a problem with that you can leave because I already ordered and payed for my drink and am not leaving until I get it.”

“You can’t change your chromosomes, it’.” the guy said in a feeble attempt to get back at Virgil. basic biology

“How about you stop relying on basic biology and come back when you can argue the same statement with complex biology. If you really knew anything about biology more then the basics you’d know that scientifically there are at least three genders according to chromosomes. Male, female and intersex, and that once again biology isn’t fucking basic otherwise everyone would be a biologist. I can wear a skirt if I want to.”

He grabbed his coffee and left, Roman had arrived a few minutes prior.

“Damn emo nightmare I didn’t think you’d go all out on the E-girl look.”

Virgil shrugged “go big or go home, and I was kicked out for the day so I had to go big. Dad said I needed to go outside. For some reason, no idea why. I mean last time I left the house of my own free will not for school was only six months ago.”

Roman looked at him in doubt “I’m pretty sure you’ve been outside of your own free will sooner then six months ago.”

“Outside? Yes, of my own free will? not so much. Oooh hot tpic.”

Roman laughed.

“Shut up princey, they have cool stuff, including gay stuff.”

Roman shrugged “could be gayer.”

“You’ve been in hot topic?”

Roman shrugged “a few times with Remus, he makes me go, bribing me with Disney.”

Virgil smirked “why am I not surprised you can be bribed with Disney?”

He started looking around at My Chemical Romance t-shirts and other things. He also grabbed some purple hair dye.

“Where to next princey?”

Roman shrugged “Game stop?”

“Sure,”

They hung out at the mall for awhile longer before guess what another youtuber came.

It was Safiya doing a weird makeup science vlog.

“Virgil, planning on becoming a meme again?”

Virgil rolled his eyes “no, besides Safiya’s cool, I like her make up science videos. I just hate vloggers who do shitty content and make to much money through it.”

They left shortly after going their separate ways.

“How was your date?” Remy called from the basement.

“Not a date! You made me get out the house!”

“Come down here and finish filming!”

“So, how was your day of being an e-girl?”

“Got harassed about my gender and whatnot, I fucking destroyed the idiot, that was fun.”

“And who did you hang out with?”

“I told you and again, it wasn’t a date, everyone else was busy.”

Remy looked towards the camera in doubt.

“Well I’m never doing this again, I’m going to go change.”

The video went viral when it was posted several days later.

I saw a kid at the mall dressed like an e-girl a few days ago. They got harrassed at the Starbucks.

[romancingromanoff]

Pride and Joy (Natasha x f!reader)

Author’s note: Pride is first and foremost a celebration we are privileged to have because of the bravery and sacrifices of so many. It was black trans women that lead the Stonewall Riots back in 1969 and yet black trans women remain some of the most vulnerable in our community. We need to step up. I’ve linked some petitions and places where you can donate at the end of this post so please, please, please, don’t ignore them.

Plot: Two gay girls head to Pride and you end up gaining some attention. Also this one is super cheesy but I’ve just got to accept that cheesy is my go-to style ugh. I also used she/her/hers pronouns for this one but if you’d like for me to do gender-neutral or use any other sort of pronouns just let me know and I’d be glad to do so :)

The cafe door swung open again and two new voices came under her radar.

“I’m telling you, every year this is THE spot to pick up cute femme girls.”

“I’m sorry, but did you miss the group of straight white frat boys obnoxiously ingesting natty light across the street?! They’re completely killing the vibe. Honestly, it should be a crime for the straights to show up here.”

“No, that’s the point,” the first person began to explain before lowering their voice to only a few notches above a whisper. “Brad and Chad over there hit on the stray femme girls with the whole ‘Oh, you just haven’t been with the right guy yet’ spiel and then try to convince them that they can change their mind. That’s when we step in, put them in their place, bruise their masculinity a bit, and ba-da-bing ba-da-boom, you’re the hero and you get to sweep her off her feet.”

“Jen, you’re a genius.”

“I know that’s what I’ve been telling you! Now buy me some iced coffee cause I’m broke.”

It was an solid plan that the pair of friends obviously didn’t want anyone else to overhear. Fortunately for them, Natasha couldn’t care less. As she continued to sit there sipping on her tea, no one would suspect that she was a former assassin casually eavesdropping into every individual conversation going on. It was technically her day off, but hey, she had time to kill while she was waiting and not much to entertain herself with. So Natasha silently applauded the two and continued on with her crossword puzzle. 

The parade wasn’t normally her scene, but the redheaded avenger knew she just couldn’t say no to her girlfriend who was ecstatic about her first Pride. 

“Nat, pleeeeeeeassee???” You had begged her all the way up till the night before to go with you. “I was kidding with the matching shirts. You don’t have to wear it, just please come.”

“Fine,” she gave in with a playful roll of her eyes. “But just so you know, it’s going to be crowded, loud, and you’re going to get pretty sweaty. I know you want to wear those rainbow slip-ons Bucky got you for Christmas but please don’t. They offer zero support for your arches.”

Natasha then continued to lecture you on safety 101. Don’t put your phone in your back pocket, blah blah, don’t wear a backpack, blah blah blah. It was a lot to follow just to make sure your paranoid girlfriend didn’t have to worry about you, but you knew it was all out of love. Unfortunately, the one thing you’d forgotten about before leaving the house was going to the bathroom, which is why the two of you had made a pitstop at a small corner cafe.

“The girl who just came out of the bathroom,” the voice that belonged to Jen almost caused Natasha to jolt. “See what I mean?”

“Yeah, she’s cute,” the other one woefully confirmed that they were, indeed, talking about her girlfriend.

You were dressed down in a white “Love is Love” t-shirt that sported two rainbow stick-women holding hands under a rainbow. It was supposed to go with Natasha’s matching black one but she was very against supporting capitalist corporations that sought to make money off of Pride Month merchandise. The rest of your outfit’s ensemble consisted of your favorite pair of shorts and some comfy white sneakers but the real show-stopper was your hair. It had taken hours of braiding to weave your hair so intricately into the flower crown that had taken even longer to craft. You were excited to show off your DIY project you’d had pinned on Pinterest for the last few years even if Nat hadn’t understood the hype.

“Sweetheart, you’re putting hours of work into this thing. I know you like doing it but we can just buy you one and save you the trouble.”

“That’s not the point, Nat,” you sighed never looking up from the hot glue gun you were trying to wield. “I get that I might not be super gifted when it comes to creative things like this but I’ll just feel proud of myself knowing I did it when it’s all put together.”

And right now, Natasha was really wishing she had pushed back harder and gone with the store-bought crown because you were standing there looking like a woodland fairy princess with your bubblegum lipgloss and GODDAMNIT why did her girlfriend have to be so freakin adorable all the time!?? 

You were still searching the crowd as Natasha’s blood began to boil. Jealousy urged her to march straight up to you and begin making out, claiming you as hers in front of everybody. Then the two of you would storm out of there, confront the gross heteros that would undoubtedly hit on Y/N, she’d beat them up and it’d be a solid victory for the badass super spy. A possible bonus could be that you get too frazzled and end up going home early.

But then she hesitated thinking that maybe you wouldn’t appreciate that. “No,” she thought to herself and calculated a better plan. “That’s possessive, gross, and directly from the straight male playbook. I love Y/N. I respect her. And holy fuck I guess I really am just gonna do this.”

Nat’s eyes ironically enough lit up at that same moment when you finally spotted her and waved eagerly with a giant smile on your face. She wasn’t too ecstatic about what she knew she had to do, but she knew it would make you happy.”

“Hey babe!” you greeted her with your full attention. It was clear from your demeanor that you were oblivious to the fact Jen and quite possibly many others were checking you out. “I’m ready to go now.”

“Actually, I think I might have to go too, but wait here,” Nat casually mentioned before slipping into the bathroom. That caught you off guard and you figured something was going on. Natasha never had to go to the bathroom. I mean, she did have to go, obviously, but it was never random and certainly never in public restrooms. Your anxiety began climbing as you went through all the scenarios in your head. Could it be that something was about to go down? You were sure that she had it handled but it bothered you slightly that she hadn’t told you ahead of time. Unless it was something more serious and urgent? There was that one time you two had gone on a day cruise but ended up getting airlifted out of the ocean when Nat ran into some Serbian gun traders. Your stomach was doing flips out of fear that you all might be in danger as you hesitantly knocked on the door.

“Nat, is everything okay?” you shook. “I don’t want to stress you out if you have some important stuff to do, but I am a little worried that-”

Door swung open and there she stood: Your gorgeous girlfriend, NOT suited up, but in fact wearing the matching black t-shirt.

“Seriously?! You know that you almost gave me a heart attack over here!” you half cry half beam with joy at the sight of your girlfriend laughing hysterically at you.

“I know and I’m sorry babe,” she kissed you sweetly on your forehead. “But these girls over there were checking you out and I had to make a quick change into this.”

“But you actually brought it? Sam didn’t have to do like a fly-by and drop it off to you in super stealth mode?”

Her reaction to your question was too good. “No, of course I brought it. We used the same bathroom right? You know there’s no window in there. How would Sam even be able to-”

You interrupt her with a quick peck on the lips. “Shut up and stop making me feel dumb, I’m just touched that you brought it and have it on now. We’re gonna get such great couple photos!”

“Oh shit, they’re definitely together,” Natasha could overhear Jen’s friend comment from across the cafe.

“I mean that sucks but also they make such a cute couple!” Jen unknowingly complimented the two which made Natasha laugh quietly to herself. She really had no reason to feel threatened or insecure about her relationship. Y/N was an amazing girlfriend and if there were any areas of improvement then they’d probably be on Natasha’s side. The spy then made a mental note to show appreciation for her more before remembering another detail.

“Actually, do you mind going out the back door? There’s just a sleazy group of straight guys out there hitting on women that I don’t care to run into.”

“Ew, let’s definitely do that,” you agreed wholeheartedly. “You know guys like that deserve to be put in their place.”

“Don’t encourage me,” Nat bit her bottom lip, ever-so tempted. “Because I was considering that at first.”

“No,” you grabbed her arm twisting her back around to you. “We should go over there and see if they actually have the nerve. And if they do, you beating them up honestly sounds super hot right now.”

“Wait, I thought you didn’t condone violence,” Nat raised an eyebrow at your proposition.

“Normally I don’t. But you’d look so cute doing it in our matching t-shirts!”

Nat rolled her eyes, smiling, thinking of how proud she was of her girlfriend.

LINKS

Petition for Justice for Tony McDade: https://www.change.org/p/justice-for-tony-mcdade

GoFundMe for Tony McDade's Funeral and Family: https://www.gofundme.com/f/in-memory-of-tony-mcdade

Petition for Justice for Dominique Fells: https://www.change.org/p/philadelphia-police-department-justice-for-dominique-fells

GoFundMe for Dominique Fells' Funeral Costs: https://www.gofundme.com/f/dominiquefells

Petition for Justice for Riah Milton: https://www.change.org/p/liberty-townships-board-of-trustees-justice-for-riah-milton-womanmurdered-in-liberty-township-ohio

[lovemesomesurveys]

[zelthie]

What's were you doing before you got on the computer? Drinking coffee and watching TV.

Is there anything you really want right now? To not feel crappy would be nice.

What's the best gift you've ever gotten? I couldn’t possibly choose just one. 

What's a song you think the world needs to listen to? I don’t know.

Has there ever been a person you regret ever being friends with? Nah.

Do you think you have a good understanding on love? I haven’t experienced the romantic kind still.

You just discovered a new color! What would you name it? I have no idea.

What's your favorite ice cream flavor? I’m not a big ice cream person, but I do like strawberry, mint chocolate chip, cookies and cream, and birthday cake. I haven’t had ice cream in years, though.

What do you want to do on your honeymoon? I don’t plan on getting married.

What's one thing you remember learning in school? The Fifty Nifty United States song. And all of the Grammar Rock from Schoolhouse Rock VHS tape. <<< Awww, yep I remember both. Those Schoolhouse Rock tapes really helped me with my multiplication as a kid and it’s cool how the states song stayed with me all these years later.

Are you more of a cat or dog person? Doggo.

How do you want to be remembered by people? I don’t need to be remembered by people. I’m sure my loved ones will remember me and that’s all that matters.

Do you like road trips? They can be fun, but long car rides are rough.

Do you think Medical Marijuana should be legalized? Yeah.

If you were forced to dye your hair another color, what color would you get? I don’t know... I really just want to keep dyeing it red.

Are you excited for anything? No.

What do you think of your parent(s)? I love my parents, they’re the best.

Are your grandparents dead? My maternal grandparents are, RIP. <3

What celebrity do you think should of never become famous? All the pervy, gross, bad ones out there, which unfortunately seems to be a lot.

What's your favorite thing to do online? Tumblr and YouTube.

If you could appear on any TV show, what show would you choose? Nah.

What does your full name look like without the letters t,a,i,o,e,l,n or s? I’ll just do my first name: Ph. 

Your mood summed up into one word? Shitty.

How often do you talk to other people about the weather? I bring it up most when it’s hot.

Are you doing anything else besides taking this survey right now? Not really. My TV is on, but it’s more background noise at the moment.

What's a name you wouldn't mind having? I’ll stick with mine.

What's your favorite thing to wear that you own? My leggings and graphic tees.

What do you think of Barbie dolls? I was obSESSED with Barbies as a kid.

When you were little, did you ever want to go to Disneyland? Yesss. I was fortunate to be able to go a few times. I still get just as excited as an adult. 

What's the first thing you thought in your head when you woke up today? I woke up to my brother handing me a Starbucks, ha so that was nice. He’s so sweet.

If your best friend confessed that they can see the future, you would...? I don’t believe in that, but I’d question them about it and hear what they had to say.

Write a random quote that comes to your head: Nah.

What's your opinion on milk chocolate? I like it, but white chocolate is better.

What about Dark Chocolate? Ew.

You do know that white chocolate isn't even really chocolate, right? I don’t care.

Do you get annoyed when surveys mention a band you\'ve never heard of? No.

What's your opinion about Katy Perry's song "I kissed a girl"? I remember how risque that was considered at the time lol. People were like *gasp!* She what???

What's your least favorite pizza topping? I’m super picky and basic, so I don’t like any other toppings besides what I put on mine, which are white sauce, cheese (preferably feta and ricotta, but I’m not picky about the cheese), garlic, spinach, green onions, and crumbled meatballs if they have it.

What would you do if you discovered the US was now drafting for the war? I have a physical disability, so I’m out of the running but I’d be terrified about my brother getting drafted.

Are you even living in America, or are you from another country? Yes, I live in the US.

What's your favorite social website? Tumblr and Twitter.

Do you believe in heaven? If so, what's it like? If not, why? Yes. I’ve never been, obviously, but I imagine it to be like how the Bible describes it to be.

What's your favorite video game? Mario Bros games will always be a favorite.

In your opinion, is Bzoink the best place to find fun surveys? I never go on there myself, but a few fellow survey takers on here seem to find a lot of surveys there that I then steal from them, ha.

What's your opinion of high school? It had its ups and downs. The first two years were rough for me.

Do you prefer the country or city? I like both, but I think I prefer living in the city. I’ve never lived in the country, though, so I can’t say for sure.

Texting: Is it fun, evil, boring, or none of the above? I don’t text much at all, I’d just say it’s convenient and preferred over talking on the phone.

What email service do you use for your main (or only) email account? Yahoo.

What's your favorite dumb pick-up line? *shrug*

What are your plans for the next 48 hours? Same things as always.

Did you ever read "Captain Underpants" when you were little? No, I was older when those came out. My lil bro loved ‘em, though.

What's better: The old Cartoon Network, or the new one? Or do you not care? I’d say the old, for sure. I don’t know wth happened to that channel, mainly the Adult Swim segment. Like seriously, what. the. fuck.

Disney Channel shows are all pretty cheesy, aren't they? I’m definitely biased, but Disney Channel growing up and in my teen years was waaaaay better. I haven’t watched it in several years now, but I feel like the shows for kids and teens nowadays are super cringe.

What's your opinion on the Jonas Brothers? I’m a fan, but I was a huge fan in my teen years. I’ve kept up with them as a group and their solo and side projects all this time.

What are some of your favorite singers/bands? I have a lot.

Why do the lead singers in bands always get the most recognition? Because they’re the voice and face of the band. I think the other members certainly should get their recognition, too, though. They all together make up the band and its sound.

Did you ever believe in the Tooth Fairy? Yeah.

What's your favorite type of weather? Fall and winter weather.

What's your opinion on reading books? I love reading.

You're given a chance to act in a Hollywood blockbuster! Would you accept? Nooo.

What it if it was a movie directed by Tim Burton?(He directed Sweeney Todd) I enjoy his work, but still no. It wouldn’t matter who was directing it.

How do you feel about Taco Bell? I like it. It’s been awhile since I’ve had it, though. I went through a major Taco Bell phase a few years ago and was getting it all the time. 

Are you hungry right now? Yes.

How often do you go on to YouTube? Everyday. I spend a lot of time on there, mainly for ASMR videos, but also other stuff I like to watch. Usually while I’m eating I like to catch up on some videos.

It's possible to be addicted to anything... What are you addicted to? Caffeine.

What's your opinion of Walgreens? I like it. My mom also works there.

Back when Spongebob Squarepants was famous, were you interested in it? Not really. I just watched it here and there cause my lil bro was into it. There were quotable moments I liked, though.

What's your dream pet? I love having doggos.

You see a mermaid while relaxing on the beach with friends. What now? lol I’d just assume it was a group of people chillin’ with mermaid tails. You can buy blankets or costume pieces like that, so.

Who's been your favorite teacher growing up, and why? My 4th and 8th grade teacher, Mr. McG.

When you were little, did you ever like Pokemon? I did have a brief Pokemon phase. I collected the cards, too.

How often do you get headaches? Not often at all, so when I do - they really tend to hurt pretty badly. <<< That’s how mine are. I’ve been sick this past week and headaches have been apart of that, unfortunately, and they haven’t been fun. I can’t take anything for them either, which really sucks.

Do you have any songs stuck in your head right now? If so, what? That new Wendy’s jingle, “Bag alert, major bag alert.” That commercial comes on constantly and that’s literally the only words to the jingle. It’s annoying.

[normallee]

Furious Coffae || Tasmyn and Norma

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Coffee Plus PARTIES: @tasmyn-pearce and @normallee SUMMARY: Norma goes to get her “caffiene hit” as she’s told people do and makes new friends with a certain spriggan.

Coffee was such a human invention. They were so bland and boring, of course they were tired all the time. As much as Tasmyn hated to admit it though, it was wicked delicious. She had over time become very intrigued how different countries across Europe made coffee. She liked the fancy sweet ones the best. And the iced ones. And while she didn’t need coffee to keep her energy up, she did have one nearly every day. Today, when she arrived at Coffee Plus she noticed that the line was impossibly long. She sighed heavily as she got into the back of the line. If she hadn’t already set her heart on having a nice iced caramel frappuccino today she would have just left. Reluctantly, she decided that she would have to just wait for her turn to order. After all, that’s what humans expected people to do in situations like this.

Coffee culture seemed like a cult to Norma. She rather enjoyed cults, they brought so much controversy with them. They were such easy feeding grounds. While she wasn’t currently looking for a platform to work her magic, unfortunately, she was looking to blend in with mortals and they all seemed to enjoy this Coffee Plus location. She was no stranger to the dark, bitter liquid, it had been around for centuries now, but the pervasiveness of these cafes with complicated orders were a relatively new phenomenon that she didn’t fully understand. However,if she wanted to appear human, what better way than with a status symbol in the form of a small paper cup? As Norma walked directly to the counter, she wondered if any actual essence of a man named Joe was in the beverage she was about to order. That made it sound much more appealing to her. “One cup of Joe, please. Not John, he sounds less pleasant,” she told the cashier.

As Tasmyn patiently waited her turn she spotted a rather lovely looking woman walk into the cafe, ignore the line completely, and walk right up to the corner to place her order. She was both wildly impressed and disappointed in herself for not thinking to do such a thing herself. Sure, humans got controlling over their coffee. But for the most part, Tasmyn had always found them to be quite passive. She was quite curious to see how this was going to go, so she abandoned her spot in line and moved closer to the woman who had, very specifically, ordered some Joe. “Have you ever tried the blended iced coffees? They take all the bitterness out and replace it with sweetness!” She offered, offhandedly to the other woman. Admittedly, she was hoping to hop in on the swift ordering, but she wouldn’t be disappointed if that didn’t end up happening.

Norma was startled that someone else in the shop had spoken to her that was not an employee. And in a pleasant tone at that! So often humans were groggy and grumpy while waiting in cafes. In fact, most of the people standing behind them were exactly that and were grumbling as well. “A blended ice coffee? No I haven’t!” Norma turned to the cashier and said, “I would like one of those! Oh, actually, two of those. For the suggestion.” Norma gave the brunette a smile. “I’m Norma, it’s nice to meet you.” Before she could get a reply, another customer came up to them. “Um, excuse you,” the blonde behind her said. She looked rather perturbed. Norma couldn’t figure out why. Maybe she was a John fan. “Oh yes, I apologize, I should have said excuse me. Excuse me! Thank you!” Norma told her. She turned back to her newest colleague. “You don’t know her, right?”

Tasmyn had a good feeling about this woman. Not only did she take her suggestion with a smile, but she had also ordered her a drink as well. Finally, a human in this town who got it. Or, well, at least a not-fae. She had been mistakenly presuming all people who weren’t fae were human in this town, and rather quickly she was discovering how not true those assumptions were. “You’ll love it! Unless you don’t like sweet things. But? Who doesn’t like sweet things? I haven’t ever met someone who said ‘no thank you, that’s too sweet!’” To think she had almost decided not to come into the cafe today. “I’m Tasmyn! You have such a lovely name, Norma.” She huffed in slight annoyance when the woman who had previously been first in line said something to her new friend, Norma. “What’s that expression you american’s love? You snooze, you lose? You can get your coffee next.” People were so rude sometimes. “No, very thankfully I do not know that woman.”

Norma wasn’t sure how she felt about sweet things, at least not sweet coffee. It seemed a bit like an oxymoron. But she was certain she would find out! “It’s very nice to meet you, Tasmyn! I enjoy your clever comebacks and I’m very glad you don’t associate with this woman.” Norma leaned in to whisper, though not very quietly, “She seems very angry.” The blonde gave an offended huff and it delighted Norma, truly. “Here is my payment, cash man. Please take it and bring us the coffee,” she said, turning back to the cashier who seemed flustered, but ultimately decided it was best to just go with the flow and not argue with her.

“Hey, what’s going on up there?!” a man a little farther back questioned. A few others chimed in and Norma could feel the anger and hostility brewing within them, deep and dark like the liquid pouring out from the metal machines nearby. She wanted to drink it down and feel it filling her with energy. “These two cleary don’t know what a line is,” the blonde snipped back, eyes glaring daggers into them both. It brought a smile to Norma’s face. It was nowhere near as satisfying as using her powers properly, it wasn’t the full unfiltered chaos she craved. But maybe, she could reach out. It was right there, right at her finger tips. The strife and anguish she could stir up so easily. Her hand hovered in front of her, daring her to touch the blonde and whisper in her ear. But she stopped, clenched her hand and dropped it away, pulling Tasmyn along with her instead to wait for the coffee, away from temptation. “I heard it comes out over here. We should follow the silly hu-- I mean, the rules. Just the rules.”

For the first time ever, Tasmyn was genuinely surprised that she didn’t sense any fae in this woman. But she had such a good energy about her, and everything she was saying made perfect sense to her. Yet, she wasn’t fae. There was no way she could be human… could she? Were humans capable of being this awesome? Unlikely. Especially when she saw her listening to the people in line complain. She was just as entertaining as Tasmyn was. Which made sense, the people in line were clearly just embarrassed they didn’t think to do this themselves. Without hesitation, she followed Norma as she pulled her along away from the register. “Have you never been here before?” Tasmyn shrugged at her second comment, “Rules are so boring. So constricting.” Maybe it was because she felt empowered by skipping the line, or maybe it was the mushrooms calling her name in the distance, but she decided to take the next drink that was placed down on the counter for pick up. The barista placed it down, announced a large mocha latte for ‘Megan’, and Tasmyn just swooped in and collected it off the counter and brought the hot beverage to her lips. “Oooh, that’s better than I thought it was going to be!” She announced to her new friend with a smile.

“No, I haven’t! I have been to Coffee Plus Plus, though! They’re far slower over there. The service here is so speedy! I very much enjoy it more.” Norma could feel the ire of everyone in line growing. God it was delicious, if only she could stir the pot a little bit more. Her head snapped back to Tasmyn as she mentioned rules. “Oh yes, they are. But it’s fun to watch them bend and break as it were. But I do try my best to be a law abiding citizen and American. For the record!” Her lips pursed in a moment of confusion. Norma had lived far too long to care too much about committing things to memory, it turned out most facts were in fact useless, but she was fairly certain her new friend was named Tasmyn. She had recalled that correctly, hadn’t she? Megan sounded similar to a point. Maybe she had heard it incorrectly. “Is your name also Megan? Or does it just not matter what name you give them?” Before awaiting a proper answer, the barista called out a drink for a “Karen.” Norma did the exact same as Tasmyn and grabbed the drink in question with a quick thanks. She took a sip and… “Ugh,” she exclaimed, making a face as the bitterness and artificial flavors met her tongue. “Is this a cherry flavored coffee? Gross! Who does that?” Norma put the cup back down on the counter and slid it back to the barista. “Please try again, thank you.” From the side, a woman with a rather unfortunate haircut practically screeched. “That was mine!” she said, huffing and puffing. “Do you think steam could actually come out of her ears?” she asked Tasmyn in what she thought might be a whisper.

Since moving to town, Tasmyn had a hard time finding people with a similar outlook on life. But Norma seemed to get it. “Well, I’m not a citizen nor an American, but I suppose there's nothing wrong with trying to abide by the laws.” Asshe took another sip of her stolen drink, she could hear a woman, presumably Megan, complaining to one of the employees. “Yes! She just took my coffee, the one I paid for. Now I’m going to be late for work!” It made Tasmyn chuckle a little, the human reliance on coffee being their own downfall was quite entertaining. “No, I’m Tasmyn not Megan. But, I don’t think it matters what name you give them? Well, it does as in that’s the name they’ll call out when your drink is ready, but you can tell them your name is anything.” It was becoming clear that not only the customers were mad at the pair of them, but the employees were looking furious too now. Maybe because now they had to re-make the drinks knowing they weren’t getting more money for doing so. Tasmyn sipped again on Megan's drink, noticing that the new drinks coming out weren’t just being placed on the counter in front of them, but held until the actual customer came to claim them. “Oooh! That would be fun! But, I’ve never seen that happen before. Is that something hum- uh, people do?”

Somehow Norma felt as if it should be obvious to her that Tasmyn was not an American but, as it was, she still had no idea how borders worked or why or what they even were anymore. “Interesting. Where are you from? See I’ve been told following the law is the best way to stay out of trouble. Which is obviously something I liked to do.” That was untrue. But for the sake of her safety, she had to try at least. She started tapping her foot while waiting for a non-disgusting coffee, the supposed Megan and Karen glaring at her. Norma simply smiled and gave them a small “polite” wave. It seemed to incense them more. Wonderful. “Someone should really tell them that names are irrelevant in that case. They are very hung up on this.” Norma craned her neck to see if the disgruntled employees were making her new non disgusting drink. She couldn’t tell. But she could tell they were all flustered and grumpy. Her head tilted as she heard a similar tick to her own. The small slip of “hum” before swapping words. Was this simple social mirroring that most humans were prone to? Or did it mean something else? “I have never seen it literally happen to a human, no. Not naturally.Not without a little assistance.” She decided to test the waters, see how it landed. Likely this was not another fury she was speaking to, but there were plenty of options in between.

“Cornwall.” Tasmyn replied simply, her attention turning to the second part of Norma’s statement. “One could argue we’re about to get in trouble right now though. Which, honestly I don’t mind. Trouble is fun sometimes.” Usually Taz was the person in the room most uneducated about human politeness, but she was wondering if maybe she had met her match. “That’s because people are too reliant on their caffeine. So they don’t like us for creating a barrier to it. Because they think these drinks belong to them just because they paid for them. Which is an insane way to think about things.” As she looked around she saw a few of the baristas talking to some woman who was dressed slightly nicer than the other employees but still had a name tag on. Maybe the boss, hmmm… interesting. She presumed they were discussing her and Norma. “Assistance?” Her ears perked up and she returned her attention to her partner in coffee crime. “What kind of assistance?” There was a small smirk that spread across her lips. This woman wasn’t fae, but maybe she wasn’t exactly a human either. “Because, that would make this day far more entertaining…”

Norma nodded, searching her mind for where Cornwall was or could be. It sounded vaguely European, but then again, so did most American locations. Considering how settlement and colonization worked. She considered most of the old names superior but then again, she hardly remembered those anyway. Her head shot towards her new friend at the mention of trouble. “We are?” Her lips pursed as she tried to determine how to proceed. Part of her thought about running away, avoid trouble, but then again, she wasn’t alone in this. Surely between the two of them, they could pass the blame or cause enough confusion to get out of this. Maybe.

“Oh, I see. That makes sense. Though I do suppose a fair exchange of currency for goods is to be expected. Though it seems to be occurring with or without their expected timeliness.” Which, speaking of, she assumed it was her turn fairly soon, but just in case, she started waving at the baristas. Who, at this point, ignored her. How rude. “It looks like you have to wait your turn after all,” the Karen lady snipped. And as if on some sort of cue, the name Norma was called and she swept in to grab her drink. “It seems I do! This is much better, good job, coffee person. This effort is far superior to last time. You should always do this instead.” The barista looked confused but shrugged and went back to steaming milk, surely to take her advice while this Karen steamed herself. “Yes, assistance,” she assured. “I was thinking along the lines of a little… magic,” she added with a smirk. “You know, if one was skilled in that sort of thing. Perhaps?” It was a shame she couldn’t tap into her own store of powers. But it was worth asking if her new found friend was capable of causing enough chaos for them both.

“Just a little bit.” Tasmyn said with a slight shrug of her shoulders. Breaking rules never bothered her, mostly because they usually seemed like stupid ways to make life more difficult than it needed to be. When she heard the bitter coffee woman talk, she turned around towards her and sighed, “Waiting is so stupid. If you just grabbed any drink you could’ve been well on your way to where you need to go by now.” As she turned back she smiled widely at the fact that Norma seemed to be enjoying her coffee suggestion. “Isn’t it so wonderful! Much better than just normal coffee. Normal is boring anyways.” Not long after, the barista placed down Tasmyn’s cup and called out her name. Happily, she snatched it up off the counter and took a big sip of it. “Magic?” She replied, eyes wide and her tone in a soft whisper. She couldn’t tell if this was some sort of test or not. Was she a hunter trying to trap her? Fortunately, the truth wouldn’t really get her into any trouble here. “I’m not personally magically inclined.” Now she was slightly disappointed, it would have been hilarious to see her friend make steam come out of these rude peoples ears. “We should go try to befriend someone who is skilled in magic. That would be fun!”

“Oh yes, it’s wonderful! Definitely better than nor--” Norma’s eyes went wide as she realized what she was about to say. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being normal, though, of course. In fact, I consider myself to be perfectly normal. I mean, look at me!” she said, gesturing to herself with a nervous laugh. True, she hated having to be a boring basic human, but it was the safest way. So proving her normalcy and leaning into it was vital to her survival, like it or not. She took another long sip of her drink, hoping it could give her a moment to collect herself, be “normal” again. At least coffee was normal, right? She was well on her way with that alone. “You’re not?” she asked back, a little shocked that the very odd and fun woman she was talking to was somehow not inclined to magic. It seemed unfathomable. She couldn’t possibly be just a human, could she? They weren’t capable of this sort of chaos on their own. “That’s a shame, but yes, we should! I used to know many people who were knee deep in the dark arts. Light, too, but those were less fun. I’m a little bit unable to tap into my own source of power in this town. If you follow.” This was more than she should be telling any stranger, true, but it seemed a risk worth taking. And if things went wrong, well, she was exceptionally hard to kill.

“Normal is a bit boring for my tastes.” Tasmyn responded matter-of-factly. She’d never understand the human fascination with being just like everyone else. Maybe her attempts to live in human towns and try to not draw all that much attention to herself would be easier if she just gave in and tried to be normal. But that simply wasn’t how she wanted to live her life. Generally, Taz was a rather trusting fae. She believed that people were often telling the truth, and maybe that was because she herself couldn’t do anything except tell the truth. While she knew Deirdre had warned her to be careful for hunters, she made the choice to trust her new coffee friend. “I can… do some things that some people might call magic. But, that regrettably does not include making steam come out of human’s heads.” She wasn’t entirely sure what it meant to not be able to access her power in this town. Were there beings that couldn’t do magic in certain places? Or was there some anti-magic hex surrounding the town? “I don’t follow. But it sounds like a very intriguing story!” While she loved making friends of all kinds, mystical and powerful friends were her favorite to make.

It was boring for her tastes, too, but there was no way she would be able to announce that here. “It can be very exciting sometimes, I’m sure,” Norma said, not sure if she was trying hard to convince her new friend or herself. It would be alright. She wouldn’t have to keep up this charade forever, surely. Demons got bored eventually. They’d lift those bounties someday, right? Norma took a sip of her coffee and tired to ignore the sinking feeling brewing her belly at the thought. There was no doubt in her mind, however, that Tasmyn was supernaturally inclined. Though not a witch. “You seem to have a natural talent for chaos, magic or otherwise. It’s quite impressive.” Norma supposed that new furies were made all the time, it was entirely possible this was a new one she didn’t know of. Human was out of the question, she knew that much. It might be safe to test the waters a little further. “It’s a very long story. One that I don’t know all the ins and out of just yet. Maybe I’ll explain it to you sometime later.” Norma could already feel some of her facade slipping just knowing she was talking to someone who was likely not human. Perhaps that was a mistake, considering they were still surrounded. With a sigh, Norma sipped her coffee and decided it needed something extra. She looked over behind the counter and saw those fun pumps of liquid there. She reached over and pumped one right into her drink, despite the barista’s protests. It couldn’t hurt, right? She took a sip and… ‘Ugh, not good. Can you fix this?” she said, handing her drink over to the barista. “Get. Out!” he shouted “Both of you! Out!” Norma looked around for who he could be talking to. Did he mean her? And her new friend? “Well that’s rather rude!” She remarked, snatching her drink back. And the one sitting at the counter.

Tasmyn smiled at the compliment. Or at least she took the comment about chaos as a complement. “Thank you. You’ve got quite the talent for it too.” While she had found a handful of friends in town who were willing to do wild and possibly irresponsible things with her, the fact that this total stranger was so open to it all was refreshing. They didn’t know each other, yet they seemed to understand each other, at least a little bit. “I would very much like to hear that story sometime later.” Was that a way of making future plans? She hoped so, she wanted to be friends with Norma. Tasmyn gaped a little when she saw Norma reach over the counter and put a pump of flavoring into her drink. Sure, nothing they had done in there today had been orthodox coffee shop behavior, but this was ingenious. Create your own flavors. Mix and match. She was about to do the same thing, going for a different flavor though since the one Norma picked didn’t seem to be great. But then the barista spoke. “What? Excuse us. We are customers. The customer is always right. I work at a restaurant, so I know that!” In defiance, she reached over the counter and put a big pump of raspberry flavor into her drink. They were just trying to enjoy their experience. Then the person from before, maybe the manager approached them. “Ladies. I need you both to leave or we will be forced to call the cops.” That struck a bit of worry into Tasmyn’s stomach. The cops? That seemed like an over exaggeration. She turned to her partner in alleged coffee crime, “What should we do?” She asked in a whisper.

“Thank you!” Norma replied instinctively. “I mean, I’m not that chaotic. I’m simply a normal human. Just a human,” she said quickly, trying to cover her slip up, making sure that the last part of her speech was the loudest. Just in case anyone was listening. “I would very much like to tell it to you! Just not here. In the open. I don’t think Megan would full appreciate it.” That said, she was having a grand time with her new friend. Up until a very forceful woman came up to them and asked them to leave. Norma froze a moment before realizing what the consequences of this could really be. Tasmyn whispered to her but here was no question in her mind what she had to do. “The cops? Oh no, I’m a law abiding American citizen! No cops, no thank you! Goodbye!” Norma scooped up as many coffee cups as she could carry from the counter before turning to book it. “Thank you, coffee people! Bye! Nice meeting you Tasmyn! Let’s meet again soon!”

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Having a bad body day so here's an angsy vent fic. Heed the warnings.

Itch

Summary: Patton is having a hard time with their body. Janus helps.

Warnings: body dysmorphia, disassociation, implied self harm tendencies. Please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable or if you find it triggering.

Ships: Patton x Janus, Mociet

WC: 1,135

It started before they even woke up.

Patton's chest felt gross. The entirety of their skin did to be honest. It was hot, so they were sweaty under the blankets, grimacing as they peeled their back from the sheet sitting up. Squeezing their eyes shut and taking a few deep breaths they decided it was time for a shower.

Today was going to be very long.

After avoiding the mirror for the entire time spent in the bathroom they dressed in their work uniform. It was too hot for a binder and they knew they'd be moving around a lot so constriction was a no go. Unfortunately their shirt was fairly form fitting but there wasnt really much to be done about it. It was only eight hours. Sighing, Patton threw on the shirt and khakis before going down to the kitchen to start up the coffee for themselves and Janus. The thought of food made their stomach twist painfully so a few more snacks were shoved in their lunchbox in case they got their appetite back later in the day.

-------

The day was in fact, very long. They did not in fact, gain their appetite back. At the end of the day they felt more like throwing up than risking sating a nonexistent hunger.

Walking down the sidewalk, every car that passed was another whisper that made them sure they were being stared at. Their hips felt too wide, making them consciously straighten their gait so as not to sway them so much. They had their jacket around their waist just in case but it was too hot and they got sick last time they wore it for too long so they settled for crossing their arms over their burning chest that felt too tight. Every customers eyes burnt holes in their skin making them itch frantically when no one was looking. Liquid fire ran through their veins as anxiety pooled in their stomach. Every minute felt like an hour and they couldn't wait to get home.

They entered a silent house, Janus not due home for another couple of hours and they sighed unhappily. All Patton really wanted was a cuddle and to sleep but it would be a while before that could happen. Their skin still itched uncomfortably and everything hurt in the worst way. Their head buzzed as they made their way to the kitchen, feet barely seeming to touch the floor as they moved making them wonder idly if they were floating. The hand still itching their arm felt numb, detached. It buzzed along with the beat in their head and suddenly they couldn't scratch because it wasn't their own hand anymore.

Their panic was quickly dispersed with a shrug as they resolved to cut up some vegetables for a salad, grabbing out the cutting board and washing cucumbers. Grabbing the knife gave them pause, skin still burning and buzzing and wrong wrong wrong

-------

Janus stepped through the door and threw his bag down with a sigh. He was very glad the day was over; if he never had to count out another stack of twenties again he'd be eternally grateful.

The kitchen light was on which made him smile. He could imagine Patton bustling around the kitchen, smiling and swaying to whatever was playing on the radio as they exchanged stories about their day, often ranting or smiling exapseratingly over shared customer experiences.

As he walked to the kitchen however he didn't hear music at all, didn't smell anything cooking which in itself wasn't a big deal, they could be having something that didn't require cooking but that didn't explain the lack of movement in the room.

Fully entering the kitchen revealed Patton, standing stock still with their eyes glued to the knife in their hand, their other on a cucumber they were evidently going to cut but now sat forgotten.

"Sweetheart?" Gently stepping over he leaned forward slightly to look at their face, startling to find it covered in tears with no reaction from the other. "Patton?"

Slowly he reached forward and laid a careful hand on the blade, sliding it out of the hand and setting it aside. Patton blinked and turned a dazed gaze to him, confusion marring their features.

"You're home early?"

Janjs shook his head. "Late actually. It's six o'clock love. Are you alright?"

Furrowing their brow Patton shook their head. "I was just standing here?"

"You were." Janus confirmed, worry carefully swept away from his voice in favor of trying to keep the calm atmosphere.

"My skin feels wrong." Patton mumbled quietly.

"You're skin...oh. Oh Patton, come here."

Carefully taking both of their hands he gently massaged the knuckles, squeezing every now and again as he exaggerated his breathing. Nodding to himself he pulled gently and stepped back, leading them through the house to the bedroom and sitting them on the bed.

"I'm getting a cloth okay? I'll be right back." Recieving a low hum in response he turns and entered the bathroom, running the tap ice cold. Returning with the soft damp cloth he gently began to rub Pattons cheeks, smiling as they leaned into it. Taking one of their hands again he resumed rubbing their knuckles.

"Shut your eyes love."

Pattons eyes immediately shut and he sighed into the ministrations, which Janus hoped meant they were coming back to themselves. Cold was grounding for both of them and he was happy it seemed to be working.

With the cloth beginning to warm Janus pulled it away slowly. Peering into their opening eyes he smiled softly.

"Feeling better?"

Pattons eyes filled with tears again as they made sudden grabby hands for him. Janus pulled them slowly into a hug, making sure that they could move away at any point if they felt like it was too much. Instead they melted, a wet spot spreading on the shoulder they had buried their face in as Janus rocked them slightly, crooning gently in their ear.

"How does getting you into some nice baggy clothes sound? And then we'll order your favorite pizza and sit in front of the air conditioner and have a movie night. What do you think?"

Patton only nodded, a small sob escaping their mouth as they clung tighter to their boyfriend. Janus smiled slightly before ducking down and catching the backs of their knees with his forearm, literally sweeping them off their feet and against their chest. Patton giggled brokedly and leaned up to kiss his cheek, making his grin even wider.

"Dork." They whispered.

"Only with you."

Later, curled up beside him with their arms wrapped around his middle Janus smiled again while watching the gentle rise and fall of their shoulders as they slept. He could only hope that tomorrow would be a better day for them.

This work and others is also available on AO3!

[mydearsaddiary]

Neil Season 3 part 5

Trigger warning: +16. This chapter includes mention of drug use and sexual harassment. The topics may be sensitive to some people!

Hey! For those of you who don’t know I am writing a Speakeasy Tonight fanfic about how I imagine Neil Season 3 would look like! The visual novel and original story is on the Lovestruck app! This is chapter 5, here’s a link with all the other chapters: https://mydearsaddiary.tumblr.com/NeilSeason3Fanfic

Little curiosity notes: Hello, everyone! Thanks for reading my fanfic! This chapter is a bit longer so it’ll be divided in two parts! It covers Problems with Vera, the gang has a new enemy, Hazel coming over and the wedding planning is moving forward! Enjoy! Don’t forget that if you have anything to add, you can always contact me! I always respond to messages!

Candy, My Dear Diary (6/2/20)

Chapter 5- All’s fair in love and war (PART 1)

1926

When I told Uncle Charlie I’d take over the Ice Box for him, I had the common sense to know it’d be dangerous, but I didn’t really know what I was getting myself into. How could I know?

Regardless, I did my job. I have faced dangers and sometimes I wasn’t sure if I could do it. But if there’s one thing Poppa told me is that you don’t show that. A leader keeps doing whatever he has to do and he never shows insecurity, he never lets doubt grow in those who depend on him. So even though I wasn’t sure if we were going to beat Vera once more, I’ll be darned if I let her win.

That’s what I was thinking about that morning. Neil and me were wrapped up in last night’s sheets, but at some point I had to get moving. Neil now ate more than me and woke up later than me, so he was still sleeping. I didn’t complain, how many sleepless nights and meals he skipped in the years since the war? He had some catching up to do.

I laid on his bare chest, noticing the details on his face. His brows furrowed in his sleep, his slight frown that made him a cynic even when he was unconscious. Part of me wondered what it was he dreamt about.

I got up, leaving him peacefully and putting on my robe. I arranged his clothes that were thrown on the floor last night on the bed and went down to whip up us some breakfast.

Before I did so I went to get the mail, and surprisingly found a letter from Lucille. I assumed Neil gave her my address in case she wanted to reach him somewhere else, but it startled me that it was addressed to a “Miss Granger”.

I sat on the dinner table opening the letter

Dear MC Granger,

I couldn’t help but feel guilty about how we ended things with you. It was an unfortunate turn of events, and I wanted to be sure to let you know my mother heard her share about it from me. I also wanted to notify you and my brother Neil about the birth of my daughter, Cornelia. I wish to visit you both in Chicago and I’d love for Neil to meet his niece. I’d be delighted if you’d allow me to introduce you as her aunt as well. My mother shall come with me if you accept, she’s ready to make amends. Please reply to my letter as soon as you can and let us know when it is a good time to visit you. I am thrilled to have you as a new addition to our family

Hope to see you soon,

Lucille Branford of Boston”

It was sweet of her to have written me after I stormed out of Boston without even saying goodbye. Lucille was so understanding, too much for her own good. I wrote her back immediately, letting her know I was sorry for disappearing and that I’d love to have her in Chicago next week. Hazel would be here these days, so it was better to separate things for now.

I finished breakfast and was about to wake Neil up when he came down the stairs. I smiled at him for a second. His disheveled hair that was usually in pristine shape and his slightly swollen eyes from having just woken up made me warm inside. We were truly domestic now, all that stood in the way were the days until I walked down the aisle

-Morning, my dear fiancé- I put emphasis on that last part

He chuckled looking at me- You’re in a good mood

-Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve got the most handsome man in the world right in front of me

He gave me a sarcastic smile in response , the one you gave to your mother as a kid when she forced you to be photographed, and it made me laugh- Go throw some water on your face, will ya? You’re giving me the heebie-jeebies- I said running my fingers through his hair to fix it up, after a few seconds I got his attention again- Hey, your sister wrote me

-Lucille?-He looked at me now sitting at the table after washing his face- What did she say?

-She wants to come to Chicago, Cornelia is born. I told her she could stay here for a couple of days next week. She’ll bring your mother and I’m sure her husband will come if Cornelia is

He raised an eyebrow-Are you sure you can handle all that right now? Your schedule is full

-Well, she asked and it’s only for a couple of days, next week Uncle Charlie will still be in Columbus so we’ll have extra rooms. Besides… I was hoping you’d stay here those days to help me out too- I looked at him pleadingly- After all, we need to start planning the wedding. I have to go to a boring temperance meeting this morning and I’m pretty sure Vera is gonna make an appearance at that one, so I’ll be plenty stressed after. Buuut… After that we have appointments at different venues for our wedding and I hired a planner, she’ll talk about some of the decorations and the reception

He sighed, obviously overwhelmed at the amount of stuff I had just said- We should’ve just eloped.

-C’mon, we have to make this a wedding to remember! It’s our only one!-I pouted holding his hands

He looked at me for a few seconds, pondering his options- Fine, fine! I can’t fight against those cow eyes. But there’s something else

-What is it?- I said in bewteen my eating and drinking coffee

-You know my family will make sure they’re all here for the wedding, right?

-Well, I imagined so

-This makes our wedding a high society wedding, and they have their own customs. I’m sure my mother is coming to Chicago because if she couldn’t stop it, she wants to have a say in it

-That’ll make my parents happy as a clam. I’ve never been to any high society weddings, only seen them on the newspapers. They always make such a big deal about them

-Yes, exactly-He continued- I’m bringing up my offer to elope again, because a high society wedding means we’ll be on the newspaper. Both in Chicago because it’s where we’ll marry, and in Boston because it’s where my family is from. It’ll say something like “Boston bachelor snatched: Heir of the Dresners marries sweetheart in Chicago” or something as corny as that

-Nice try, I’m still gonna go ahead with my plans

-It’s your funeral

-No, buster, it’s our wedding!-I went around the table, sitting on his lap- And I’m determined to make it the best wedding Chicago has ever seen

He looked up at me smiling- Then I can’t argue. Once you decide something, trying to get you to change your mind is like trying to take food out of a bulldog’s mouth.

-You’re sleeping with this bulldog

-Don’t say that phrase, ever again- He looked at me incredulously and I couldn’t help but laugh as I leaned in to plant a passionate kiss on his lips

-I love you-I whispered into him

-Yeah, I know- He looked at me with a smirk and I poked at his ribs- Ow! I was just- Ow, stop that! Alright, I love you too, MC- He said and I stopped satisfied

-Alright-I kissed him one more time before getting up- I need to get ready and leave for the temperance meeting. Should I come over to your apartment after? It’d be easier if you just picked me up and we went to the venues together from there, you know?

He agreed he’d pick me up and I made my way to the kitchen, putting the dishes in the sink.

Then I don’t know what came over me, but I started thinking of everything that I had to do. Temperance meeting speeches, Ice Box, deal with Vera Peters, Hazel, Uncle Charlie, Wedding planning… It’s like everything became a spiral of disconcerted thoughts inside my head that made me anxious. I felt this sudden dizziness take over my head. Suddenly the smell of the kitchen was bothering me and I felt like I had to sit down. But before I could do anything it was like my body gave up on me and regurgitated everything I had just eaten into that sink and I coughed everything out.

I stayed there for a few seconds trying to recompose myself. First thought in my head was shallow: “I can’t believe I just puked, that’s gross!”. Then I turned the water on washing it away and grabbing a paper towel wiping my lips

-MC?- Neil stood leaned on the doorway, a worried look on his face

-Ugh… You didn’t just watch that, did you?

-No… But I heard it- This time he walked towards me as a filled a cup with water

-Don’t drink all that. Just a sip. You shouldn’t drink or eat much for the next few hours- He started taking care of the dishes himself- Sit down

I did as he told me- I must’ve drank too much yesterday- my eyes itched

-I don’t think that’s it-He washed our plates- You have a habit of working until you can’t handle it anymore. You did it a few months ago when you passed out due to exhaustion- He turned to me once he was done- And you’ve been working and working nonstop and Cleo mentioned you were tired last night. Throwing up is also a sign of overworking… Means your body is overwhelmed, MC- He walked towards me, kneeling down and touching my knees gently- Which means: Take care of yourself. That advice is not only for Charlie, either. If you don’t want me holding you captive again- He joked around- Take it easy.

I sighed and then nodded- Alright, doctor. I’ll take it easy

After I promised Neil I’d watch myself, I dressed up and took a cab to the most stressful event of all: Temperance meetings with Vera. She wasn’t showing up to them in a while but I knew that getting married to Mayor Adler would bring her enough courage to show her face again. And right I was. I sat down in one of the couches as she rose to speak to everyone

Vera still had that charm about her. The same grace in her movements, the same poise in her manners. The finesse present in her clothes and her cakes that made people roll their eyes with pleasure, everything was there to gain the hearts of the temperance people back. She was the same elegance as before. However, her piercing eyes told a different story, one everyone was unaware of but me. Vera Peters lived to rule and to ruin, she had the mind of a dictator. In other circumstances I would’ve admired a strong woman, but strong doesn’t always mean good. In Vera’s case it meant havoc.

-Dear Temperance comrades- She started and I already wanted to throw up again- As you know I have discovered that my former husband was involved in criminal activities and directly entangled with the infamous mob boss O’Sullivan. As reported, they are both in jail now where they should be- In her words I could see the lack of loyalty, the deception, the cruelty. Even so, I used to be as blind to it as everybody else in this room- …And I of course, have divorced Peters. I had no idea of his vices and the crimes he committed- Lies, just lies! I just want to call her out- And have now found a partner that shares my drive in the temperance movement, former Prohibition officer and mayor of Chicago: Richard Adler. I will forever support our cause and we will raise again, together- She looked at me this time, glaring with a wicked smile- Every time someone tries to put us down.

As expected, by the end of the temperance meeting everyone was greeting Vera Peters, now Vera Adler and talking about how sorry they were she had to go through all that and how strong she was. I stayed away from the action or I’d puke again on her face. However, Vera seemed to be one of those people who wanted to have everyone under her spell, and she knew I wasn’t in on it. So she came on walking right towards me with her band of loyal followers

-Miss Granger, I hear congratulations are in order-She spoke in that voice that made me want to eat up lead- You’re engaged to that handsome doctor of yours. It’s such a noble profession- She said teasing me, since she researched Neil’s past and knew of his morphine addiction

-Thanks, Vera- I said in that fake friendly tone- I must congratulate you as well on your marriage to Mayor Adler- I hated the fact I had to go back to being civil with her

She smiled even more, since she knew I wanted her to be everything but the Mayor’s wife. Ditch one Mayor and go to the next one… She’s like a Black Mayor Widow- Oh thanks, dear! Won’t you eat one of my cakes?

-I can’t. I’m sick, shouldn’t eat much. Doctors’ orders-I smiled so no one would notice how much I wanted to slug her in the face if I could

-That’s a shame, dear. I hope I can convince you to tea after this?- She played her move.

That was the last thing I wanted. She was smart, if I refused again with no excuse it’d make me look bad and less respectable. Lucky for me I had a perfect excuse- I’d really love to some other time, Vera. But you got me at a bad time. After this, me and my fiancé have appointments with our wedding planner. See, we have so much to do!- I tried to put on my best upper-crust action- Then we have family from other states coming to visit. It’s a busy time for me

-You should hurry up the wedding if you’re already feeling sick… No respectable lady should be with child out of wedlock- She smiled and her friends all gasped with the gossip

That witch! She knew that wasn’t the case, she just used my indisposition to make me look bad. I almost slapped her face right then and right there, but she looked back at me as if she said “I dare you”, so I breathed profoundly and smile at her again- You should be more careful with misleading gossip, Mrs. Adler. I’m not expecting

-It must be the extra weight then, I’m sorry dear!-She laughed like we were old pals.

As if he had read my thoughts, Neil pulled up to the house- Oh look, my ride is here. Until next time, Vera Adler.

-Oh yes, we’ll see each other very soon-She said before I left

When I got into the car I just threw myself on the seat sighing

-That bad, huh?-Neil asked driving

-I might puke again, all over your car- I said dramatically

-It’ll be a cold day in hell when I let that happen! Roll down your window!

I did as he asked. I wasn’t really going to be sick, but the air felt good on my face-Well, to the church then-I pointed forward

Once we were there I looked around. It was a huge church, taller than everything in Columbus. I bet it could fit everyone we knew there and then some. I walked around in red carpet, tried to imagine myself walking down it and see Neil there, waiting for me at the end

-Don’t like it?-He asked seeing my reaction

-Do you?-I looked at him, my arm tucked in his

-To be honest I’m not good at deciding this stuff. I was just gonna go with whatever you thought was good- He shrugged- As long as it’s you walking up to me, it doesn’t really matter where it happens

I smiled. He could be sweet when he wanted

-But- Neil continued- I know women do imagine this moment more than us and I’m sure you have an idea of what you want. So if it doesn’t feel right, then it’s not the place

-Yes, I guess so. Thanks, Neil

With that I knew that wasn’t it. It’d probably satisfy both of Neil’s family and mine. However, that day wasn’t about them, it was about me and Neil. I just had to go with my instincts.

Along the way there was a chapel that I liked the most. I thought about it for a while and I could imagine everything in it. I could see the car parking in front of it. The stairs that led up to its doors. It was built out of wood, but it was entirely white. It had beautiful pink and salmon roses on the outside. The inside was a caramel color, the seats were brown, in a traditional church fashion. The sides of the seats were decorated with the same roses as the outside. The big windows left everything naturally lit and the red carpet led to the altar, where I could see Neil standing, waiting to take my hand. For convenience, it was big and charming enough so our families wouldn’t be opposed, but not so extravagant that I felt scared by it.

-What do you think?-I asked him

-It seems to be away from all the action of the city. Closer to the residential area, not likely we’ll be hearing any disturbances from the outside. If you like it, then I’m all for it

-Well, that’s ducky, because I think it’s the bee’s knees!

I did want to wait until the cold was mostly over so we settled for a date in early May. About five and a half months from now. Seemed enough time to do everything without worrying everyone about taking too long. Since we had a venue and a date, the rest of the planning would rest on the reception, invitations and dresses, tuxedos and fitting. Seeing it coming along was really exciting

We were driving to La Salle station to pick my little sister Hazel up and I decided to strike up a conversation

-Did you go through this before, you know, the wedding planning… With Lillie?-I looked at him

He seemed pensive for a moment- No, not really. Our families were traditional, they always told me how much of a great girl she was and I went along with it. I met her and she seemed nice enough. Lucille loved her, it’s her best friend, and you see she made Lillie the godmother. Then there’s Alton who never said much about it, but didn’t seem opposed to the idea. I trusted their judgment better than anyone else. When we enlisted in the war I was convinced I wanted to marry her so I proposed. This way when I came back she’d be waiting for me. So I was really in France while they planned everything. They wanted me to marry her as soon as I came back but you knew how in shambles I was. So I convinced them to wait until I was done with Med school… And then I left. So, no… I wasn’t really involved in it

It seemed dark and gloomy. Most things with Neil seemed that way- Do you like being involved in it?

He chuckled- I can’t say party planning is my calling. But… I can’t say I hate it either- He smiled at me in a comforting way

Once we were at the station, my sister waited with a small bag for us, she recognized Neil in the driver’s seat and got in the back of the car- There’s so many people over here- That was the first thing she said

-Well, hello to you too-I answered

-Hey MC, hey doc- Hazel said

-You didn’t bring any of the heroin with you, did you?-Neil asked

-No, it’s just like you said-She replied

-Good, it’ll be harder that way, but you’ll sweat yourself off it- Neil was not one to calm anybody’s nerves or sugarcoat anything- I was thinking of taking her to the infirmary but, I think she’ll be better around someone familiar.

-Of course she can stay at Uncle Charlie’s- I turned around to face her- By the way, Hazel, how is Uncle Charlie?

-Old- She said- And he and Poppa stay the whole night talking and playing poker and when they wake up in the morning, they go into the woods to hunt or fish or whatever. Can’t pull ‘em apart. Even Momma’s been around him. I mean, they all grew up together

It was nice to know he was doing fine- That’s good. I told him he needed a vacation from the store and let me watch over it

-Yea… Hey doc, how does this work? This whole getting off the dynamite thing?

-Simple. In about 24 to 48 hours you’re going to want to die. You’ll sweat, feel pain, won’t be able to control your movements, you’ll probably cry, throw up, it’ll feel like all your bones are being shattered at the same time… Then after that it gets better.

-Sounds perfect- She said sarcastically

-After the initial stress, we’ll send you back to Columbus. I’ve got a contact in Cincinnati who agreed to come up to Columbus, owed me a favor. From there he’ll take it over for us. Just play it out like you’re going out with the man.

-Yea, then my parents will send her to a convent for going out with two fellas at the same time- I added

-Teddy Denby? I dumped him. You were right, he’s a bust

I laughed, not surprised- I was there once too, sister.

And for the next few days the only eventuality that took place was what Neil called detox. The good side was that Neil stayed over at Uncle Charlie’s with the both of us. The bad side was that Hazel did feel like she was going to die like Neil said, and she looked like it too. I never heard her cry so much in my life.

I didn’t mention anything to Neil though, I trusted him enough to know that he knew what he was doing. Not just because he was a doctor, but because he went through something similar.

It had been five days since she had been there with us. I hadn’t gone to the Ice Box much and neither had Neil, but I had to wait until Hazel was home to update myself on hurricane Vera. On that fifth day though, Hazel had stopped crying. It seemed like most of the physical symptoms faded or were almost completely fading away. Neil said something about having to continue the process, but that the worst was over, however the cravings or long-lasting effects would be there, so that’s what the contact, I’m assuming another doctor, from Cincinnati was for.

I was sitting on the bed with her that day when she said- I think I might be carrying a torch for him, MC- She faced me- Will you cancel your wedding?

I laughed. She probably had a little crush but I knew she was pulling my leg- Hands off! I worked hard for it!- I hesitated about saying the next part, but said it anyway- By the way, it’s not unusual for a patient to develop a crush on her doctor. Psychiatrists call it transference!- I imitated Neil’s tone of voice

-I think you’re spending too much time with him

-You noticed we’re getting married, right?-I laughed with her and updated Hazel on the upcoming plans of the marriage from then on.

I gave her a letter to give to Momma for everyone and then a separate one to Uncle Charlie. Before she went home I made her swear she would follow up with the plan and stay clean, watch out for herself and cooperate. Her treatment was long from over but it seemed Neil had started it well.

Once we dropped her off at La Salle station I turned to him- Did you flirt with her?- I asked as a joke

-I am the flirting type- He teased back- Besides, I couldn’t resist her vomiting, diarrhea and the excessive sweating. My type of girl

I laughed, feeling wrong about it a few seconds after- You are one inappropriate son of a gun

-You laughed anyway-He got into the car and I followed him

-Thanks, Neil… For doing that

-I didn’t do much to be honest- He started to drive- Just got her through the initial stages of it. She’s still going to feel everything, just not in the same intensity

-Well, I imagine the beginning is the worst, just take the gratitude, will ya?

He smiled, softly- You’re welcome

After that I decided it was time to go back to the Ice Box. I needed updates on how everything was going, so I scheduled a meeting. Everyone had a few days to work on everything, so it seemed like the right time

-Alright-I said looking at Gerald- How’s everything going at The Broiler?

-We’re being friendly with each other. I can’t rush it but… I gave her the impression I was amazed at her skills and thought she had a good business head and gave tips, so she thinks I’m warming up to the idea- He sighed- And we shared a few drinks, got a date tomorrow- He blushed, obviously hating his role in all this

-Ooo… Excited, Gerry?- Vince teased and O’Fallon turned even more red, I just didn’t know if it was out of embarrassment or anger

-Can it, Vince!-I glared at him, then turned my attention to Gerald again- You’ll just have to keep at it. The sooner she trusts you the sooner we’ll be rid of her

-I know, I just hope it works-He said frustrated with Vince’s comment

-It will. Anyone have anything to add?

Vince started- Oh, those documents you wanted me to find at O’Sullivans warehouse… They’re not there. Nothing there incriminates the Broiler from what I can see

Cliff followed- How do we know if she’s just saying all that and in reality she’s got nothing?

-No- Gerald said- She has documents. Waived them right in front of me, they exist.

-Alright-I said next- Vera invited me for tea and I refused, maybe if I accept next time she’ll take me to her house. I could try snoop around a bit

-Don’t think she’ll let you out of her sight- Cliff said

-Well, I’m going to try anyway. If it doesn’t work we’ll just have to try something else

And so the plan unfolded. Vera Peters did invite me for tea the next time I was at the temperance meeting again. She wanted something for being so insistent, and so did I

When I went into her house though, it wasn’t what I was expecting. A white mansion stood before my eyes, and the biggest living room I had ever seen in shades of green expanded its way in an unquantifiable immensity. Mayor Adler sure had a deep pocket. Her servants set the table and Vera waited, a cup in her hand and her legs crossed. She didn’t get up or greet me, she just kept looking and motioned the cup towards the other seat. I made my way sitting across her. A silence took over for a second as she flipped a page on her magazine. I didn’t take her for a magazine kind of woman, but it seemed like it was on purpose.

After she ignored my presence for a few minutes, I started talking- You invite me for tea, have the table set. Why exactly am I here for, Vera?

-My name is Mrs. Adler, wife to the mayor- She gave herself the title- And you shall refer to me as such

I almost laughed, but I had to hold it in. It seemed like she had called me here to institutionalize fear and respect. I thought at first it was because she wanted me to treat her like the other ladies at the temperance meetings did. But then I realize she didn’t see me that way. It gave me a bit of satisfaction to realize she wanted my respect as a business woman, as a gang leader. She had Gerald’s and now she sat me down, trying to force her way into my head

Vera was danger, alright. I knew I had to play just the same game as her as I did before. The problem is: Was I smarter than her? I urged myself to think, what’s the best thing to do here?

I breathed in and out recomposing myself-Alright, Mrs. Adler. What is it you want?

-I want what I first offered you a month ago, MC-She sipped her tea- I want to have you under my wing, do as I say

-What makes you think I’ll do what you say?

-I don’t know if you’ve heard but I got control of The Broiler recently

-I did hear some rumors you’ve been hanging around there-I crossed my legs sipping my tea- But what makes you think we’re as stupid as everyone in O’Sullivan’s gang?

-On the contrary, you’re smarter. I appreciate a woman with a head for business. However, my husband has documents in his office I handed to him incriminating Charles Granger as a mob boss and your sweet fiancé’s illegal medicine practices, with the addition that he’s still using morphine. Of course I added that myself- If I could I would jump on her right now- The only reason why an arrest warrant hasn’t been issued yet is because I told him not to, but the moment you stop cooperating with me they’ll be wearing stripes.

I glared at her in fury, she had the upper hand for sure, but in me I knew we already had a plan against her. I was confident enough, but I needed Charlie and Neil to be safe. So I remembered all my acting classes from Elliot and Sofia’s classes on deception and I looked at her- Alright,Ve- I stopped for a second- Mrs. Adler- I saw her smile of satisfaction. It’d be good for us if she thought we had nothing on her

-I’ll call you for tea next week again. I have grand ideas for the Ice Box- She smiled- Now I’m done with you for the day. You can find your wait out, right?

I left in a hurry, made a bit of scene too, might convince her I lost. I slipped into the Studebaker and drove away. However, I stopped in the corner. I know I needed to get her out of the house to snoop around. Which is why Officer Gallagher would call her for a meeting with the coppers, since Sofia found out Mayor Adler would be there. After, I knew her plans were dinner with a certain Irish fella.

Soon enough, she was being driven away from the mansion. Knowing my ways inside the big house and having my trusty pins in hand, it wasn’t hard to slip into the house and start going from rooms to rooms as I needed. There were so many, it took me a while to find one interesting locked room. I picked the lock and when I opened I realized it was an office. It was definitely Adler’s.

I looked around and soon there it was. Incriminating documents. Not just about The Broiler, Neil, Uncle Charlie or even the whole Ice Box. But documents about everything and everyone in Chicago and what they had done. Mayor Adler was definitely a worse option than Mayor Peters. Vera wasn’t the only problem, Adler was a maniac. I grabbed what I needed about the Ice Box and hit it in the concealed holster under my leg. Then, I couldn’t stop snooping around to see if there was anything that compromised anyone else I cared about. Looking about documents on The Broiler kind of fell on the side

Adler was bonkers, that was the best word to describe it. I found pictures, pictures of ladies and flappers in compromising situations. Documents signed unwillingly, creepy telegrams about the people he’d controlled and those who he couldn’t so they were dead. Donovan said he’d kill for his family, but that’s too generous for Adler. He’d kill anyone he wanted if it suited him.

I backed away from everything. The energy of that office soon suffocated me. If I didn’t leave I felt like I could be sick again just from all that. I breathed more heavily before leaving the office, locking it again and soon making my way down the stairs. Once I got to the middle of the immense living room the front door suddenly opened to reveal the man itself.

Mayor Adler

____

Link to part 2: https://mydearsaddiary.tumblr.com/post/619859613321494528/chapter-5-alls-fair-in-love-and-war-part

[babygirlgeralt]

tagged by shreya "president of the himbo rights activists" @billybvnes thank you king

1) do you make your own bed? yes but i don't have my life together or anything it's for anxieté reasons bc i once got told that not making it is bad luck fssdh

2) what’s your favorite number? not to kin shreya but 7 is a king

3) what’s your job? i work as a data technician part-time which is mostly monitoring the outputs of several machines to check they’re working properly, but what i actually do is a master’s in archaeological chemistry! basically i analyse dirt from inside roman pots

4) can you parallel park? i don’t drive anymore bc i’m too afraid i’ll hit someone but i was much better at parallel parking than bay parking but realistically parking? fucking sucks bro

5) a job you had that would surprise people? uhhhhhhhhhhh i used to work in a restaurant that was in a 500yo stable? like most service jobs it sucked tho

6) do you think aliens are real? i can only repeat what shreya said: dude duh

7) can you drive a manual car? yeah, i’m british (i know :///) so that’s just what i learnt in

8) what’s your guilty pleasure? uh? this is tough i’m pretty open about what i stan, like we cringe on main like men… oh maybe uh i’m medically not allowed to cos it fucks my gut up but i eat ice cream and chocolate all the time bc they’re so tasty!!!!

9) tattoos? i wish… god okay i desperately want an old three mast ship on my wrist, some kind of kandinsky in b&w on my shoulder, a dagger behind my ear, amos the expanse’s hexagons arm tatt, and a constellation one representing the five variations of the earth’s motion that govern  Milankovitch cycles in our climate bc i’m a paleoclimate nerd (yes i think about this a lot). Also possibly a dandelion on my butt for funsies

10) favorite color: to wear: purble, but like reddy purples; to be around: blues with hints of green like the sea, but genuinely… are there bad colours??

11) things people do that drive you crazy: oh bro. i’m too petty and judgemental for this question but i guess my top one is like. people who come over nd you cook for them and they don’t even offer to help clean up?? i’m like ooooh sorry didn’t realise i was your chef waiter AND potwash that’ll be £9.99 for your fucking curry please and thank you

12) any phobias? okay weird one but you know those really cheap paper napkins?? that kind of squeak when they rub together? fucking hate them actually makes my skin crawl to touch them. my dad is the same but about artificial sponge

13) favorite childhood sport? uh as a child i didn’t really do sport but i did ballet which i loved!!! honestly like my joints are fucked but it was so fun… unfortunately bc of a childhood accident i’m missing two toes on my right foot so i could never do pointe and eventually kind of… gave it up bc i finished all the non-pointe grades ddsssfj

14) do you talk to yourself? bold of u to assume i’m not doing it this very second

15) what movies do you adore? fssdh okay i can only really think of the ones i watch when i’m sick which are: singin in the rain (we stan a polyship), the princess bride, ferris bueller's day off (we stan a polyship- are u detecting a theme), howl's moving castle (we stan the og himbo), how to train your dragon and footloose (again we stan dancing himbos)

16) do you like doing puzzles? /stares at my portable jigsaw puzzle mat and shelf of lego/ no whatever do you mean 

17) favorite kind of music? 80s alt pop we gay babey

18) tea or coffee? coffee all the way. literally only have tea for a hot toddy when i'm ill

19) what was the first thing you remember you wanted to be when you grew up? i remember really wanting to be a vet for horses for a while which now i'm like. well i'm allergic and that's difficult and gross so no

i'm tagging @souldagger @gaylukecrains @valentimanes @undeathaura and @permetstu