#but i could tell you several where to get disgusting giant cookies

[aaaaatillathenun]

Im so upset that the dessert trend is shifting from cupcakes to cookies. Giant cookies taste like ass. Fuck u crumbl i blame you

[marauderundercover]

Ice Cream Weekends

Hi, this is just fluff. Pure fluff and nothing else. (Reverse Robins and Bio!dad Bruce)

Ages: Damian (23) Marinette (21) Tim (16) Jason (14) Dick (9)

“Dad, we’ll be fine. It’s one weekend. We’re not helpless.” Marinette reassures her dad, practically pushing him out the door. If he cancelled another trip with Selina, she’d be pissed. And a pissed off Selina means that the wedding is gonna be pushed back and Marinette was not about to let that happen. Not again.

“Are you sure you and Damian can handle the others? And you’re sure I don’t need someone to fill in for Alfred?” He asks, obviously trying to find a reason to stay. Marinette huffs, crossing her arms as she glares up at her dad.

“Are you forgetting that I basically grew up in a French bakery before coming to live with you? Seriously?” She points out, smirking at the resigned look on his face.

“It’s the first time I’ve left Dick alone.” He says softly. She glances behind her, where Dick was currently chasing Jason in an attempt to get him to play tag. Her youngest brother was sweet, and despite the incident at the circus, seemed to be adjusting okay.

“I know. But he’s gonna be fine. I promise.” She says.

“Call me or Selina if you guys need anything. And I mean anything.” He says. She agrees, and waves as he gets into the car. Yeah, she’ll call them. When hell freezes over. She was not about to be the one to ruin their romantic weekend. If they really needed them, she’d make Damian call. He didn’t care about possibly ruining a romantic weekend. Locking the door, she turns and whistles, grinning as her youngest brother runs right to her, standing at attention. The other two trail behind him, neither looking excited.

“Okay men, we have an entire weekend without Dad. Do you know what that means?” She asks, posing to try and mimic a general.

“Ice cream for dinner!” Dick cheers, jumping up and down. Marinette grins.

“Right you are, soldier! What else?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow at Tim.

“No sleep?” He asks, finally smiling.

“Like that’s any different for you.” Jason mumbles with crossed arms.

“Good job boys. And what’s the last thing?” She asks, grinning as they all look confused. Perfect. “Nobody tells Dad!” She cheers, laughing as Dick whoops and starts running in circles.

“Or, you could be responsible like you told Father you would be. Actually make them eat dinner and sleep. Two things that are important for their health.” Damian drawls, walking into the room with his arms crossed. Marinette rolls her eyes.

“Or, you could stop being such a buzzkill.” She suggests. He scowls.

“I am not a buzzkill. I am, however, taking Father’s instructions seriously. Grayson and Todd are both supposed to be in bed no later than eleven.” He says.

“That’s not fair! What about-” Jason argues, clearly about to mention patrol, something he knew he wasn't supposed to mention around Dick. It was bad enough that Jason and Tim had taken up the mantle of Robin at 12. Dick would not be allowed out of the house in costume for several years. No way.

“Father said that Drake and I will handle it. You, Marinette and Grayson will remain here.” Damian says in a no-nonsense tone.

“Come on guys, we’re supposed to be having fun! Dad and Alfred are gone, it’s okay to just relax.” Marinette insists, letting Dick grab her hand as she starts towards the kitchen. “Dick and I are going to make gigantic ice cream sundaes and eat until we get sick. You losers can either join us, or go eat some stupid dinner that Damian buys because I’m not cooking tonight.” She adds, laughing as Dick cheers.

“Yeah losers! Mari and I are the best!” He yells, practically vibrating in excitement. Marinette grins. This was going to be the best weekend ever. Walking into the kitchen, she grabs the stack of special bowls she had bought specifically for this weekend. They were huge, perfect for giant ice cream sundaes and she’d gotten one for each of her siblings. She figured Jason would trail in eventually, if only to get away from Damian. She loved her brothers, truly she did. But every time he had to wear the cowl, Damian got cranky. It was annoying. She may find his uniform as Red Bird disgusting, but he was always more relaxed as his own persona. Pulling out several different types of ice cream and all of the toppings she could find, Marinette grins at the completely covered counter.

“Okay kiddo, how’re we doing this?” She asks, completely prepared to watch her youngest brother slip into a sugar coma.

“Can I have anything?” He asks, eyes wide as he takes everything in.

“Of course.” She says.

“Then I want chocolate ice cream and cookies n cream ice cream and cookie dough ice cream and fruity pebbles ice cream and the peanut butter cup ice cream with hot fudge and marshmallows and caramel and gummy bears and m&ms and whipped cream and a cherry and, oh! Sprinkles! Lots and lots of sprinkles!” He lists off all in one breath. Marinette blinks at him before nodding and beginning to scoop ice cream.

“It’s your sundae, kid.” She says, trying to ignore the nagging thought (that sounds an awful lot like Damian) that this was a horrible idea. She wasn’t going to listen, because that would mean admitting defeat and Dick would probably be upset. So hopefully nothing too bad happens.

“What the hell?” Jason asks, walking in. Marinette frowns.

“Language, Jay.” She reminds him, nodding towards Dick. He rolls his eyes, ruffling Dick’s hair before grabbing a handful of gummy bears.

“Is all that ice cream for him?” He asks, pointing at the huge bowl that she was currently drowning in toppings.

“Yup. Told you guys we’re going to eat ourselves into sugar comas.” She says, passing her little brother his sundae before starting on (a smaller) one for herself.

“Think you can get me a couple scoops of strawberry?” Jason asks after a pause. She looks over at him and grins.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She teases, switching over to getting his ice cream. She glances over at Dick, eyes widening when she sees the huge dent he’s already made in his ice cream. “Hey, slow down kiddo. You’re gonna get a brain freeze.” She says. He nods, but continues shoveling the ice cream in at an alarming rate. Marinette passes Jason his ice cream while sliding a glass of water to Dick. He frowns at it.

“What’s that for?” He asks with a pout as he hugs his ice cream bowl closer.

“It’s so you can slow down. I don’t actually want you in a sugar coma, buddy.” She says softly, he sighs, but still takes a long drink of water. Finishing up the toppings on her sundae, Marinette grins as Tim walks in.

“Does your offer of ice cream for dinner still stand?” He asks, holding a cup of what she knows to be coffee. She hums, turning to the freezer and grabbing the one ice cream she hadn’t offered to Dick.

“Is your favorite flavor still ‘Coffee Bean Blast’ from Trader Joe’s?” She asks, holding the container. Tim nods with a grin, watching as she gets him several large scoops.

“Thanks Mars.” He says, taking the bowl from her and adding his toppings. Hot fudge and chocolate covered espresso beans. She starts putting away the toppings and ice cream so that they won’t melt, knowing the chances of Damian joining them were slim. He’d never really acted like a kid. Not as long as she’d known him. And since he’s Batman for the weekend, he’d be even less likely to do anything fun. Just as she’s closing the last ice cream container, the kitchen door swings open again.

“I think it may be beneficial for our….bond as siblings, if I were to participate in this ice cream for dinner experiment.” Damian says, his face serious as he walks in. Marinette raises an eyebrow in surprise, but grins at her brother.

“What flavor?” She asks. This was going to be the best weekend ever.

---

Bonus: “I blame you for giving him so much sugar!” Damian yells, stacking a smaller stepladder onto their tallest ladder.

“How was I supposed to know the kid would be able to get up onto the chandeliers?” Marinette counters, sticking mattresses underneath where Dick was hanging precariously, a large grin on his ice-cream covered face. Maybe next time she shouldn’t let him have so much ice cream.

@maribat-bdbwm

[shorkbrian]

The Anon that mention the shortage of Yandere Todoroki made me think about other yanderes that aren't popular. Mirio and tamaki came to mind like imagine they both kidnap you and at first your really upset and you try to escape and slap them but even though your such a brat they're still really nice to you. Like Mirio still tries to hug you and cracks jokes all the time and hes super nice. And Tamaki buys you sweets and blushes when you accept his gifts. One part of you is like 'I've been such a brat and they're still so nice to me. I should stop being so rude.' and another part is like 'They took me away from everyone and I need to get away from them!'

Sorry if this is long just wanted to share something that popped up in my head. 🙂

(What to expect - no NSFW, kidnapping, almost Stockholm syndrome. Panic attacks, mention of a vicious goose. Gross sappy relationship tingz, Tamaki getting slapped)

Straight up this is exactly what I’d want..... Just two dummies taking care of me and telling me I'm cute and buying me gifts and offering me unconditional love even though I’ve done nothing to deserve it...

Mirio would totally still try to hug you, and give you playful smooches on the cheek and tickle you even when you hated his guts and wanted alone time. He’d crack jokes to make you laugh, tell you about his day and if there was anything interesting that he saw.

He’d constantly be trying to get you out of your shell, and out of the mindset where you yearn for your own home and freedom, for alone time and autonomy. 

Tamaki isn’t like Mirio.

Tamaki is like a silent shadow, often spooking you with his presence because you hadn’t been paying attention. You’ll turn around and he’s there, sitting at the table watching you out of the corner of his eye, a book in his hand.

When you retreat to the giant bedroom the three of you share for some alone time, somehow Tamaki slips in while you have your back turned, and when you go to sit down, he’s already chilling on the ground by the armchair, the tips of his ears slightly red.

He knows he’s not subtle, and it’s embarrassing to him, but he can’t help it. He likes being around you just as much as he likes being around Mirio.

I’d imagine that sometimes Mirio would be a bit too much to handle, and he’d require more activities cause he’s such an extrovert, so you and Tamaki would really bond.

Mirio would go out for drinks with some friends, and Tamaki would stay home with you, putting together puzzles, offering you intricate coloring books and expensive drawing supplies. 

You hate accepting his gifts, but you hate being bored more. 

ugh just hnnn Tamaki is so soft and sweet and Mirio is so confident and lively, they're the perfect pair to handle a bratty S/O. So upbeat and optimistic that your attitude hardly bothers Mirio, although Tamaki can see the strain of your new living situation wearing on you.

He’d start getting you “self care” gifts, like bath bombs and skin care, cute socks and nice-smelling lotions. He’d even offer to rub your shoulders, his voice shaky and wavering, but he loved you too much to let his anxiety and embarrassment keep him silent.

Mirio wouldn’t be opposed to taking you out on the town a few times, as long as you behaved. He’d take you to some bars, let you get absolutely plastered as you drank away your worries, your stress and resentment for the two men who'd inserted themselves in your life. 

He’d haul you home, where Tamaki was waiting, and they’d take care of you, tucking you into bed, making sure you were in comfy pajamas, water and a painkiller on the bed table for when you woke up.

Other times, Mirio would take you shopping, or drag Tamaki out of the house so all three of you could walk to the park and buy ice cream. Mirio would drag you around the lake, pointing at all the different ducks for you to look at, unintentionally antagonizing one of the geese and  having to scoop you into his arms as you all fled from the angry creature.

At times it would feel like you were in a happy, loving relationship.

And then it would feel like you were going crazy.

They had kidnapped you, right? When you got upset and screamed for them to let you go, Mirio would just wrap you in a hug, say he understood, that he knows it must be so hard for you, but him and Tama love you so much.

Tamaki would squish you against Mirio, resting his head on your shoulder and murmur in your ear how it’s all going to be okay.

No matter how you acted, you were still met with kindness and love. Were they really such bad people?

Even when you broke a glass in one of your fits, sobbing on the ground about how you wanted to go home, Mirio just helped you clean up, running you a bath and making you hot cocoa for after.

Even when you hit Tamaki, hard enough to bruise his cheek, there was still adoration in his eyes when he looked at you. There were tears too, and you thought you had finally gotten through to him, made him realize the severity of your feelings about living with them.

But no, Tamaki was crying because he was upset that he hadn’t been taking care of your emotional needs, providing some sort of outlet for all of your stress. He had cried for a long time that night, Mirio holding him in bed as you watched from your seat in the armchair.

He was pathetic. They were pathetic.

Yet you still found yourself climbing into bed, awkwardly patting Tamaki on the shoulder and telling him that you were fine, and that you were sorry you had hit him. 

It was all just so confusing.

One second you hate them with all your might, disgusted that they thought they had the authority to dictate your life, to take you away from everything you had known. The next second, that was forgotten as Mirio charged into the kitchen, dancing wildly around you and Tamaki as the two of you baked cookies, music blaring in the background.

Lines were starting to blur.

[phthalology]

(how is a pigeon like the tower?)

on AO3 here 

The former Speaker’s reception room became an activity room for the Vanguard after his death. Guardians would meet with Ikora Rey or Commander Zavala there, or use it for the unofficial but Vanguard-sponsored (i.e. Ikora had nodded in agreement to the idea once) book club. Wicker chairs and a long table provided convenience, while skylights let in natural sun and warmth.

Eris Morn hesitated in the doorway. The Titans sat with their backs to her: Zavala folded over the clacking of knitting needles, Lord Saladin drinking something hot next to him, Lord Shaxx scooping cookies onto a plate on the other side of the room. Saint-14, ambling across the room with his own plate, was the first one to see her.

“Eris Morn!” He boomed her name and rushed toward her, one arm flung wide. His silver armor made him look even larger than his wide Exo frame already was. He had declined to wear his famous helmet, revealing silvery plating and ice-blue eyes. “Our favorite Guardian tells me you do not want hugs. I will honor this, but …” A graceful wave of his giant arm turned into a graceful return to the plate of cookies. “Let me know if you ever need.”

“My skin crawls,” Eris said. She watched for Saint to react with disgust to her tone, but he did not. Such a relief. Her truths were hard, these days, and she did not expect the Titans to stomach them. The invitation itself had been a surprise. She also found it courteous to let people know what to expect from the person she had become. “Touch reminds me too much of the creatures that crawl as well.”

“We will try to think of things other than that.” Saint’s thunderous voice held notes of scorn toward the Hive, which Eris respected. He did not belittle her pain. “I have a project for you, if you want it!” He moved around to one of the several empty chairs and scooped up a roll of blue yarn.

Zavala turned around, his hands still occupied with the quick-clacking needles. “Eris.”

“Are you certain you welcome me? Again the Guardians whisper that I touch evil I should leave alone. I will not endure such whispers easily.” She hated to antagonize the Vanguard, but there was no way around it. And …

The Titan Vanguard replied in just the way she had hoped he would. “You show us all an example of standing as a shield in front of others. Without you, the moon would be a more dangerous place. I hope you find that here, you do not have to shield your own heart.”

The words sounded like a speech he had rehearsed ahead of time. Eris respected the thought if he had. This was also, she knew, how the commander typically addressed people.

“Commander. Thank you for the invitation. While I have declined several times in the past, I found this timing … auspicious.” She glanced at the others. Saladin she knew the least, while she had spent the most time with Saint and Zavala. The days with Saint had been … centuries ago?

“Because Saint is here?” Shaxx sat down, facing her over Zavala’s shoulder, with his plate of cookies. The chair creaked under his muscled and armored frame. “He and I were just talking about you. About how we haven’t fought together since the Great Hunt, and how perhaps that should change.”

The Great Hunt. Eris remembered Ahamkara the size of buildings crashing down on fireteams … and the satisfaction of evading their meter-long claws, ignoring their tempting whispers, and piercing their violent hearts. She smiled. “It has been a long time since I faced a wish-dragon. Memories from … before … are fuzzy … but welcome all the same.” Try. Try, Eris, to let them know you appreciate them.

Saint was waiting for her response, holding the yarn up in enthusiastic little swoops. “Eh…?” Saladin and Zavala both kept level gazes on her. Shaxx stared down at his cookies, reluctant to remove his helmet.

“I brought something for you too.” Eris held out the satchel at her side. She plucked the Hive-leather roll from inside and partially unrolled it. The black beads inside glittered in the sunlight. It was strange to see them in bright Earth light instead of the gray-green murk of the moon. Eris had spent so much time working with stones like these, along with iron plates and incantations. Seeing them in the Tower for a moment seemed wrong, like bringing a painful shard of her new life into the wispy memories of her old. But with the sounds of the room—Saladin and Shaxx beginning a conversation, Saint creaking as his weight shifted—she was pulled into the present. These Titans—these old warriors—had wanted her to come here.

“Marvelous!” Saint said. He took the roll from her gently, his hands dwarfing hers. “Perhaps I will string them on the edges of my scarf!”

They traded the beads for the yarn. Eris took a seat and was immediately surrounded by the conversation of Titans: Shaxx’s laughter, Saladin’s measured and wise words, Zavala quiet, concentrating on the gradually growing knitting in his lap. Words and warmth mingled. She watched the steam rise from cups. Saint talked about Osiris’ work on the Sundial. Zavala stooped under a heavy silence, once raising his head as if he was as heavy as a boulder to add his voice to the chorus of praise for the Guardians’ latest exploits. When conversation turned to the moon some eyes glanced at her, but none of them wanted to talk about the thing in the canyon.

“It was the Ahamkara hunts, when we truly spoke last,” she muttered into the silence.

“It was.” She could hear the smile in Shaxx’s voice.

““Even before my ill-fated fire team began our task. The dragons were not as cruel as the Hive, but there is no purpose in measuring one suffering against another.” The words were laborious: she forced them out.

“We’re old, Eris.” Saladin intoned the words, but then smiled to show he meant them to be soft. The “we” struck her: no one had counted her part of a group for a long, long time. “We could measure one era of life against another all day. Or, we can fight to live another day.”

“Titans.” Saint pressed his fist against his own chest. “Good at many things. Defending the City. Giving advice.”

Eris picked up the yarn. “After such a long time, I have forgotten…”

“We were all beginners once,” Zavala said, and began to teach her the stitches.

*

Eris left with a thin string of knitting in her satchel. Saint looked to Shaxx after she left. Most of the cookies and tea were gone. The tone in the room had changed, from an informal meeting of the crocheters to a more somber Vanguard gathering. This was not the public club, where Guardians mingled. This had been a meeting of specially chosen old warriors. “Splendid. She learns quickly.”

“I have to ask,” Saladin said. “How much of that was about getting her to return to the Tower, and how much was about you?”

“Both! Of course it is both. I am new to the Tower. She is new to the Tower. I was stranded in time. Dead, perhaps? I cannot remember. Strange not to remember thousands of years gone by in one death.” Saint shook his head. “Hah. Then I come back, discover she was stranded on the Moon. We are similar in this, I think.” He turned the black beads over and over.

“I know Ikora invited her before,” the Vanguard Commander said from his chair. “She never took up that offer.”

“Ah! Then this is victory indeed.” Saint crowed. He remembered when Eris had leaned over to him, a few stitches loosely completed in her lap.

Zavala and Shaxx had been tensely asking one another if they could get the other anything, the old pain of their rivalry comfortably buried under enforced politeness that might one day mellow it into fondness. Saladin watched over them like a father. The signs that he still remembered them as Guardian recruits at Twilight Gap were clear. Both had been hard-living immortals even before the Gap, but Saladin’s conviction and skill at organizing troops had made him the foremost of Titans, and a template for what the nature of a Titan should be.

“So, you have also returned from the dead," Eris had said, with humor. “Did you feel like you walked in the Tower as a ghost?”

Saint could be quiet when he wanted to be, especially under the voices of his compatriots. “After the Guardian brought me back, I, well … I had birds to take care of. They needed me to be alive. A ghost cannot hold seeds.”

Eris narrowed her eyes, scrunched her lips. Even with the top half of her face mostly obscured, it was easy to read her dissatisfied expression.

Saint leaned closer. “Just like you take care of Guardians. Even when they make a mess.”

Eris smiled.

How was the moon like the snow of the gap? What did it matter to an immortal to lose the centuries he had lost, the years Eris had lost? Saint did not dwell. He watched the Titans begin their back-slapping, wall-rattling farewells, and looked down again at the minuscule beads in his palm, crafted by Eris’ clever hands.

Victory indeed.

[katiebug445]

Happy Birthday, Marco!

so some context: im in the process of reading attack on titan before the fall and i fucking adore cardina baumeister with my entire fucking heart, he’s such a soft boy and my heart belongs to him and i want his little gay ass to be as happy as can be, so i thought, you know who else needs someone to be soft and happy with? marco. so mardina was born and i fucking adore this ship with my whole heart and they’re just CUTE together okay they fucking are so im posting this but whatever i don’t need to justify myself just take it

Cardina wanted nothing but for it to be special.

He and Marco had been together for just a little under a year, and it was the first birthday they were getting to celebrate as a couple. He’d been planning it in secret for months, buying little things here and there when he was able to go shopping on his own, hiding it away in the top of his closet, where he knew Marco never noticed things. He’d even gone so far as to message Marco’s best friend, a man named Jean who had always scared the hell out of him, for help in making the cake.

Cardina wanted to do it from scratch, to make something entirely homemade for his birthday, but he genuinely had no idea what he was doing, and Jean was a chef, so why not?

Once Marco left for work that morning, Cardina sprang out of bed and got started as soon as the car pulled away, pulling down all of the decorations and ingredients he’d picked up, and took everything down to the kitchen so he could get started.

He dumped everything out onto the table and began to sort it absentmindedly as he tapped around on his phone for a playlist that Marco had made for him of all of his favorite songs, and once it was playing, he tied his hair back and started ripping open packages. The decorating was one of his favorite parts of this stuff, figuring out the perfect placements for banners and streamers and every other little thing was always so much fun for him, he wished he had the chance to do it more often.

Once everything was how he wanted it, Cardina went back to the kitchen, bopping along to a cheery song that he knew Marco loved, and hummed along with it as he typed out a message for Jean, telling him he was ready for him to send over the easiest recipe he had on hand. While he waited for him to get back, he rounded up everything that he assumed he would need to make a cake, trying to remember all of the baking things that Marco used when they made box brownies and cookies.

He kept peeking over at his phone, but nothing had come through yet, and Cardina was starting to get impatient waiting for it. He tried to distract himself by tidying up some little things here and there, but that didn’t take nearly enough time up before he was back at his phone, cursing quietly to himself and wondering if Jean actually knew how to text at all, by the speed it was taking.

Cardina found himself wandering back upstairs with his phone in hand, deciding to go ahead and get dressed, and before he realized what he was doing, had one of Marco’s shirts pulled on, along with his favorite pair of pants and an old baseball cap that he’d been given by his boyfriend, and pulled his ponytail through the hole in the back. Finally, his phone dinged with a message, and a text long enough that it had to be broken up in three parts came through. Suddenly, he realized why it had taken Jean so long to get back to him: He’d written out a novel!

He quickly scanned over the recipe, still a bit intimidated despite this being an “easy” cake, and typed out a quick thank you to Jean before heading back downstairs so he could get started looking for the rest of what he needed. Unlike the boxed goodies that they’d made previously, this required a lot more ingredients, several of which they didn’t have. Panicked, Cardina sent another text asking if it would be okay not to use some of the stuff, and Jean explained that it could, thankfully, be substituted by a few things he did have on hand.

Cardina read over the beginning of the texts from Jean three times, just to make sure he had down everything that he needed, and got started, putting in as much care as he possibly could to every step, and smiled to himself when he was finished mixing in the wet ingredients. It looked good, if he said so himself, and felt a bit of pride in himself for getting that far in without messing it up.

Next came the dry parts, all of which he had ready in a smaller bowl, which he soon realized was a mistake. Everything went in nice and easy until he got to the flour, which was a lot lighter and dustier than anything else, and he made the mistake of dumping it in all together, which created a giant puff of white, which ended up all over his face, his shirt, and even, to his surprise, in his hair. Coughing, Cardina fanned the flour out of his face, and looked over the next bit of the recipe, which was to put everything in together, and mix it. Easy, he thought.

Seeing as the wet ingredients had the bigger bowl, he decided to dump the dry into it, but the bowl was heavier than he expected, and, once again, he was covered in an even bigger mess, and the wet bowl teetered dangerously on the edge of the counter with the extra weight and the momentum in which everything was dumped in.

Cardina yelped, holding the bowl with his hips as he dumped the rest of the stuff in, then hurriedly set the empty one down and moved the full one back to safety. That was entirely too close, he thought, and, because everything was so full, he decided to hand mix it rather than use the machine.

Twenty minutes, a sore arm, and an egg yolk stain on the front of his shirt later, he put the spoon he was using down, and was digging out the other mixer, wondering if it would be okay to use one beater, seeing as the other wasn’t where it needed to be. He decided it would be better than nothing, and plugged it in, at the last second deciding to put it on the lowest speed possible, which turned out to be the right move, seeing as how fast even that spun everything around.

Somehow, he managed to pull it off, and had a cake mix that looked as perfect as everything he found on the internet. Satisfied, he grabbed one of their cake pans and poured it in, which ended up needing to be split into two with the amount of batter he had left, but he thought that would be fine; that meant more cake for the man he loved more than anything. Cardina quickly scanned over the last bit of Jean’s messages, and decided to set a timer on his phone for when it would be ready, and popped them in the oven once it was ready.

While everything cooked, he cleaned everything up, himself included. He didn’t want to take off the shirt, seeing as it was comfortable and smelled like Marco, so he just brushed it off the best he could and settled for that being good enough. He did up the dishes, swept the floor, and cleaned off the counters, all while listening to his music, feeling happy and lighter than he had in awhile. He loved the idea of being able to do this for the love of his life, to be able to surprise him with nice things like this, and thought maybe, if this went over well, he could start asking Jean for more advice on how to cook things.

He hadn’t been keeping track of time, and only realized that something might be wrong when he began to smell something burning, and panicking a bit, checked the timer to realize that he hadn’t actually hit start. Cardina screamed, quickly shutting the oven off and grabbing the nearest cloths he could find to pull the pans out, cussing quietly to himself when the heat from the metal burned through the dishcloths and burned his fingers. He quickly set them on the counter to cool off, and his heart completely sank when he realized that they were all but ruined. The tops of the cakes looked more like charcoal, or the tops of their brownies than they did a lemon cake, and he sighed, his good mood completely destroyed.

He couldn’t even bring himself to ask Jean for help, he was so humiliated, and just stood there for several moments, looking at the burned mess of a surprise, and tried not to cry. Who was he kidding thinking he could actually pull this off? Cardina looked around at the decorations, and the happiness that they brought him earlier in the day turned to disgust, and suddenly they looked horrible, too close together and junky, and made him feel like he was trying too hard to impress his boyfriend rather than a genuine expression of his love.

Tears filled Cardina’s eyes, and he had half a mind to tear them all down, but when he got up to do it, a little thought stopped him: how touched Marco would be to see it, even if it was a huge disaster. He took a deep breath and looked around at the decorations one more time before deciding to leave them, wondering to himself how he’d been so lucky as to land someone as forgiving and kind as Marco was.

The cakes still bothered him, though. A lot. He left them where they were for the time being, and grudgingly decided to go out and just buy a cake for him instead. It felt like cheating, but he wanted to make sure Marco actually had something edible. So, Cardina bought a blank cake and a tube of icing, deciding to at least do the decorating on it himself.

~

Marco pulled up several hours later, exhausted from a long shift at the restaurant where he and Jean both worked, having worked a double shift to cover for his friend while he spent the day with his new fiance, Armin, and just sat in his car for a moment and tried to relax. He shrugged off his jacket and smock, and decided, just for the night, to leave his work shoes out in his car so he didn’t have to look at them anymore. Barefoot and exhausted, Marco walked up to the house with a paper bag full of food he’d been able to bring home for he and Cardina to share.

He opened the door, not surprised to find it unlocked already, and stepped inside. The first thing he noticed was the giant banner that said happy birthday written out on the wall behind the couch, and his heart lifted the tiniest bit. He was glad to see that at least someone had remembered his birthday after a long day of being bitched at by angry soccer moms on their lunch breaks, and then he realized that the rest of the room was decorated with streamers and even more banners.

“Car?” he called, the tiniest hint of a smile lighting up his face as he hung his keys and smock up on the hook by the door. “Did you decorate all of this?”

Cardina appeared in the doorway, then, and Marco couldn’t help but laugh at him when he saw how much of a mess he looked. His face, despite his best efforts to clean it off, still had flour smudges on it, and he noticed a few white spots in his ponytail that he hadn’t seen that morning, too. His shirt, he realized, was all but ruined, with flour and egg stains covering the front, but he couldn’t bring himself to be too upset with him.

“Hey,” Cardina replied, hurrying up to him and kissing him softly on the cheek. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” Marco grinned, holding up the bag of food. “I brought dinner, in case you haven’t eaten yet. I’m sorry I’m home so late.”

“Don’t be!” Cardina said quickly, taking the bag from him in one hand, and his boyfriend’s hand in the other. “Come with me, we’ll heat this up and celebrate a little while you’re still awake.”

Marco let himself be led through the house to the kitchen, and felt his heart swelling even more when he realized that the whole house had been decorated for the occasion as streamers brushed against the top of his head. “You were busy today.” He commented happily.

“I was.” Cardina grinned, hurrying over to the microwave and pulling out the to-go containers to heat up. “Very, very busy, actually, and I think I deserve a kiss or two for my efforts.” He teased, unable to help himself.

Marco spied the cake sitting on the counter as Cardina spoke, and a huge grin lit up his face at the sight when he read the inscription on it. “I think you’ve earned a bit more than that…” He murmured, popping the lid off the cake and swiping a bit of icing off of the bottom corner, just so he could taste it. “This is good. Where’d you get it from?”

“The little grocery store down the street, I don’t remember the name. The new one.” Cardina replied, peeking back at him and feeling his mood lift the tiniest bit when he noticed how happy Marco looked over his cake. That was something, at least. “Do you like it?”

“I do!” Marco said, part of him wanting to be selfish and skip dinner just so he could tear into the cake and taste it. He still couldn’t believe that Cardina had gone through all of that trouble just for him, and it was touching in a way that he couldn’t describe. “Thank you, you have no idea how much I needed this after today.”

“I think I can guess, based on the look on your face when you were coming up to the house.” Cardina replied, putting the first of the dishes in the microwave before coming back over to sit with him for a moment. “Bad day?”

“No worse than usual,” Marco shrugged, leaning over and giving Cardina a kiss on the cheek. “Just a really rude party at lunch, and a couple different nasty ones during the dinner rush. But it’s okay.”

Cardina scowled hearing that, hating that Marco had to deal with that almost every day, and scooted his chair over closer to him so he could touch him, to comfort him as much as he could. “Screw them. How was it aside from that?”

Marco thought about that for a moment, not wanting to keep complaining about his day, and smiled a little when he realized that something good did happen. “It was worth taking the double shift.” He explained. “I guess Armin asked Jean to marry him tonight.”

“Really?” Cardina smiled, feeling a small wave of happiness wash over him for their friends, making a note to text them both in the morning to say congratulations, and ran his hand comfortingly over Marco’s back. “Good for them.”

“Yeah, I was relieved when Jean messaged me. It’s been too long co-” Marco broke off, then, his face scrunching up in confusion when he spotted their two cake pans half hidden behind a loaf of bread. “Car, what’s that?” He asked, pointing.

Cardina’s heart sank again when he realized that Marco had seen his failure, and with a sad sigh, went over to get the pans. “I tried to make you a cake this morning.” He explained. “But I think I’m just going to have to accept the fact that cooking isn’t what I’m best at.”

Marco’s heart swelled with even more love for his boyfriend when he heard that, and got up to stand with him, slipping his arms around him from behind and pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder as he looked over the cakes. “What kind is it? Chocolate? It looks good.”

Cardina winced a bit when Marco said that, and shrank into himself some. “It… was supposed to be lemon. Your favorite.”

“Cardina…” Marco murmured, touched that he remembered that little detail, and squeezed him tight around the middle before pulling back and going to grab a knife from the drawer. He grabbed one of the pans and began to cut the cake out, much to Cardina’s dismay. He ignored his pleas for a moment and cut the top layer off, smiling a bit to himself when he saw the cake underneath the burn was still perfectly edible. “Well, look at that!” He smiled, his gaze flickering to the other man. “My boyfriend was sweet enough to bake me a perfectly edible cake for my birthday!”

Cardina’s lip wobbled a little when he heard that, and met Marco’s eyes for a second before the tears started to form, and he tried desperately to blink them back. He really had no idea how lucky he was to have someone as positive as Marco, and the fact that he’d even thought about trying to salvage the cake was making him more emotional than he could believe.

“Do you have any frosting for these?” Marco asked, fixing up the other cake as well.

“No, I… didn’t get that far. I saw they were ruined and completely gave up.”

Marco thought for a second before pulling out his phone, tapping around on it for a second before he found a good recipe for homemade frosting, and showed it to Cardina. “Want to make some?” He asked, smiling at him encouragingly.

With a little smile of his own, Cardina nodded, and while Marco got everything together, he went to get his plate out of the microwave so Marco could eat while they got started, and put his own in to get cooking. Once it was in, he grabbed his phone and put on the same playlist as before, hoping to improve both of their moods some while they got ready.

Marco grabbed himself a fork from the drawer and took a bite of food while he read over the recipe, nodding to himself and thinking that it would be fairly easy for them to do if they did it together. He smiled even more when he realized what song was playing, and shot a loving look towards Cardina, incredibly grateful for him and thinking he was so lucky to have such a thoughtful partner to spend the rest of his life with. “Hey, Car?” He started as the blonde made his way over to him.

Cardina slipped his arms around Marco’s waist and kissed him softly on the cheek. “What’s up?”

“I love you.” Marco said honestly, looking over at him again and feeling his heart swelling with affection. “I really, really love you, you know that, right?”

Hearing those three little words coming from Marco, even though they’d both exchanged them thousands of times over the last year, never, ever failed to send butterflies swarming in Cardina’s stomach, and he squeezed Marco a bit tighter around the middle when he heard them to confirm that he knew. “I love you, too, Mar.” He breathed, kissing him on the side of the head. “I really, really love you, too.”

“Good. As long as you know.” Marco grinned, leaning into the other man’s embrace for a few seconds before getting started on making up the frosting for them.

Cardina watched as Marco took control of the kitchen, providing support where he could, and found himself beyond grateful for Marco Bodt, for being such a generous, loving person, who genuinely appreciated a failed effort at making his birthday something special. He smiled, watching as he moved around the kitchen, humming along to the music and smiling hugely whenever their eyes met, and thought that, maybe, it hadn’t been such a bad attempt after all.

[purplesurveys]

754

Does anyone know your bank pin number other than you? Who? I don’t even have one of those yet.

Have you ever had a boyfriend/girlfriend who was depressed? I'm not sure. I know she's told me before about being diagnosed with depression, but I’ve forgotten if it’s mild or severe, or if she has the whole thing or is just showing symptoms of it. She only mentioned it in passing so I figured it wasn’t something she wanted to touch on further.

Would you be able to climb out your bedroom window to sneak out? Probably but I’d have to be really careful to not end up shattering my legs or any other part of my body haha, but knowing me I’d probably land badly. I live on the second floor but the house isn’t that high, so I think I could give it a shot.

What would you do if you found out the last person you called was pregnant/got someone pregnant? I’d be very confused because she’s very gay and also because she’s only been staying at home since March.

Can you taste the difference between brand name food and store brand food? I wouldn’t be able to relate since store brand’s not really a thing here. Only SM makes their own stuff but they’re purposely cheaper because they’re meant to be of lower quality to begin with. Other than that, we don’t really have a choice but buy brand name.

Would you be embarrassed to buy pads/tampons/condoms? Which one more? Just the tampons, probably. I never need condoms so I have no reason to feel awkward buying them, and in fact I’ve volunteered to buy them for Angela whenever she feels shy haha; I definitely have no reason to be embarrassed buying pads because periods are a thing. I will likely feel most awkward getting tampons since I don’t know any one person who uses them where I live and it’ll most likely be seen as an unusual purchase since they’re quite uncommon.

If a stranger went in your room, would they be able to tell what gender you are from just looking at it? Probably. I have a poster of Nam Joo Hyuk, several Audrey Hepburn memorabilia, and a lot of pink stuff so it very much looks like a stereotypical girly room. I do think it’s kinda balanced out by the amount of WWE merch I own, but yeah otherwise my other stuff screams girly.

Are your parents gullible? When it comes to home stuff my mom is basically a witch; she can immediately tell if my dog peed somewhere, if I lost something, or if a dining chair isn’t positioned right. But when it comes to fake news on Facebook she will occasionally flock to them hahaha I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to remind her that phones DO NOT emit radiation from 12AM to 5AM and that it’s only a ploy to get people to sleep early lmfao. My dad is pretty intelligent and won’t be easily fooled about anything.

Do you still own a VCR? I know my parents owned one but I don’t know if they still brought it here when we moved 12 years ago or if they already threw it out.

About how much money have you spent on food in the past two weeks? :( Zero pesos. The only thing I’ve spent on this entire quarantine was a bottle of soju I asked my dad to buy and I paid him after.

If you were in a car accident would the last person you kissed care? Yes.

If you were looking for a new pair of shoes where would you go? UPTC since they have like ten shoe stores there.

How much was the last pair of shoes you bought? I haven’t had a new pair in like a year now, but the last one we bought cost arounddddd ₱4200, if I remember correctly.

What color is the computer/laptop you’re on? Did you buy it yourself? Gray. No, it was a gift from my parents.

Do you have a second home? I guess I count my childhood home my second home. My grandma and cousins remain in that house, so we visit from time to time and when we’re there I’ve noticed that I still retain the same tendencies and habits from when I still lived there.

Would you be surprised if you saw the last person you texted smoking? I’ll use the last person I chatted in this context since I haven’t texted in a hot minute, and that person would be Andrew. I’d be quite concerned since they’ve told me they’ve quit smoking, so there must be something extremely stressful going on for them to start smoking. I’d check up on them immediately.

Does the smell of cigarettes, weed and beer repulse you? I do super hate the smell of beer even though I have no other choice but to drink it sometimes; I still find the smell of cigarettes disgusting although my contempt for them has lessened over the last few years seeing as a lot of people I know are smokers so I’ve been around that smell a lot, and also because I’ve started too. I’ve never been around weed and I don’t know how it smells.

Was the last person you kissed younger or older than you? Younger by a month.

Do you think people have any misconceptions about you? Not really? What I get most frequently is people thinking I was grumpy at first, but tbh I am pretty grumpy so they aren’t far off from the truth. With me it’s usually a what you see is what you get thing whether someone’s meeting me for the first or the 78th time.

Have you ever purchased Girl Scout cookies? Nope, not a thing here. I’ve always found the variety of cookies so fascinating though and I’ve always wanted to try the Thin Mints and Samoas since they’re what I hear about the most :(

Do you like waffles? They’re okay, though I only ever eat waffles with fried chicken and never just by themselves. I prefer pancakes.

Do you watch birthing videos on a day-to-day basis? Nah man wtf? I have no reason to be doing that lmao.

Do you find piercings/tattoos attractive? I don’t find either attractive. I get curious when I see tattoo because I wonder what the story behind it is and what it means to the person who has it, that’s all. As for piercings, I don’t really like them < Pretty much. Like I don’t go looking around for tattoos on a person to find them attractive; I just like hearing the histories behind them. Same with piercings, I don’t need them to be attracted to someone.

Would you talk to someone you don’t know on the internet? Only on social media that I’m already familiar with and comfortable in, like on this Tumblr, or Twitter, sometimes Facebook. I wouldn’t go to like Quora to ask something or join forums or even post anything on Reddit.

How often do you drink Monster? Never. Energy drinks scare me lol.

Have you ever made totally pointless videos with your friends? I’ve made those for myself, but not with friends. I remember filming a house tour with my flip phone’s video camera back when I was like, 8 hahaha I was ahead of our time for sure.

Do you like to buy those Warped Tour compilations? I don’t even know those existed. I just knew of Warped Tour and that all the cool bands of the time would play there, but that’s it. I’m clueless about everything else that goes on in there.

Do you like sitting on the inside or outside of a restaurant booth? You mean just a restaurant? Inside, for sure. I would never agree to eating outside and am always willing to wait a few extra minutes. I hate having to contend with passersby while I eat my food as I feel that it ruins the experience as well as the time I have with the person/s I’m eating with.

Do you own a nightgown? No but I had duster dresses that I’d wear to bed as a kid, if that counts lol.

Have you ever made a house out of a giant cardboard box? Probably not. My mom wouldn’t allow us to play with those and she’d immediately view them as trash that needs to be thrown out.

Have you ever made a tent out of sheets in your bedroom? No. I usually used the sheets as a cape or robe, then I’d pretend to be a queen.

Do your grandparents know how to operate a cell phone? My paternal grandparents do. My maternal grandfather used to regularly use a phone before he passed. My maternal grandmother refuses to learn :(

Have you ever had sex or something like it? Hahahaha ‘something like it.’ Yeah, I’ve had sex.

Have you ever read a George Orwell book? I tried reading 1984 when I was like 13 but didn’t understand it from the get-go. I haven’t continued it since but honestly I’m very open to revisiting it one of these days.

Have you ever worn fishnets? I don’t remember ever doing so. I feel like it’d be so uncomfortable; I hate wearing stockings as it is.

How many piercings and tattoos do you have? I only have my ears pierced and no tattoos < Sameeee.

Is someone in your family affected by Asperger’s? Nope.

In a hotel do you always nose through all the drawers and cupboards? Hahahahaha yeah, just out of curiosity. I’ve never seen anything interesting, but I keep trying.

Would you rather go out to eat or be eaten out? Be eaten out right now. I’ve had too much abstinence from sexual activity for my own liking lol < Ok it’s 1 in the afternoon but SAME lol

Do you always wear your seat belt? Honestly, no and it’s a shitty habit that I need to correct ASAP. I never notice that I’m not wearing them until it’s one of my parents riding with me and they scold me for driving out of the village without a seatbelt. I do put it on when I enter bigger cities with more police patrolling the area like Ortigas and Makati, or when I drive out of town, but usually it stays off.

Have you ever liked someone much older than you? No. I’ve had a crush on a teacher, but I obviously didn’t legit like him haha.

Have you ever been in a play? Just the annual school plays we do that all students are required to be a part of. I forgot to mention this in a recent survey but I was in an acting club in Grade 1 and I played Cinderella’s prince in our culminating play, heheh.

Do you have any secrets that nobody knows about? Sure.

Is there ice cream in your freezer? Yeah. My parents love ice cream so we always have an ample supply of their favorite flavors. Sometimes we’ll also have a tub of cookies and cream since it’s our (the kids’) favorite flavor.

Have you ever started to laugh but played it off as a cough successfully? For sure. I always laugh at inappropriate moments so I do fake coughs a lot.

Have you ever liked the lyrics of a band but hated the music? I suppose so. Hate is a strong word and I’d rather not use it, but while the music my girlfriend listens to wouldn’t be what I’d tune into on a regular basis, the lyrics are admittedly very well-written and intelligent and reflective, and I don’t mind it when she shares her favorite songs with me :)

Does your bathroom have a window? Yes but they’re high up on the wall.

Do you go somewhere to get your eyebrows done? No, I’m really scared of threading :( Everyone always gets out of the salon with their eyebrow area all red and tingling and it’s enough to scare me off of threading forever lmao. I’m not very conscious about how my own eyebrows look, so I just let them grow out.

When you were younger did you read the A Series Of Unfortunate Events books? I’ve only seen snippets of the movie.

Who was the last band you saw live? Paramore. I miss them already.

Do you believe prayer really works? I’m not gonna invalidate the fact that it works for a lot of people. But it’s just not my cup of tea, and I honestly don’t know how to feel whenever someone says they pray for me since I don’t believe in it anyway. Of course I thank them, but on the inside I’m always a little puzzled.

Are you a fan of the band Gym Class Heroes? Never been. I know Stereo Hearts and that was always a fun song to sing, but it’s not my favorite either.

Frosted flakes or frosted mini wheats? I don’t really have either, but I’d go with frosted flakes I guess?

Have you been on a date in the park? I would love to have one of these if we actually had parks. How nice would it be to take a long stroll, have a picnic, and just sit on a bench talking for hours?

Ever dated someone you were best friends with first? Yes. At first I didn’t want to risk it since we were reeeeeally close, but I don’t regret asking her out.

Are there any diseases/health problems that run in your family? Thankfully no. Although my grandpa and his sister did pass from heart attacks and I’m starting to be scared that it might develop to be a pattern for some of us. But other than that, both sides of the family are relatively healthy.

Do you have asthma? No. But Gab does and I get really worried once her breathing becomes labored at night. I keep telling her to get a new nebulizer after her old one broke, but I dunno what’s become of that request of mine.

Are tongue piercings slutty? No, and it’s not like being slutty is a bad thing lol.

Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? No one in real life but I do still have a crush on CM Punk who’s turning 42 this year hahah. I don’t think that crush is ever gonna go away.

Last person to take off your pants, besides you? Gab.

Do you remember those cool highlighters that smelled like popcorn? I knew about markers and ballpens, but not highlighters.

Might you enjoy hanging out in the woods for day or two? No thanks. I’d rather have somewhere to go home to or rest at by the end of the day, and if I was gonna do this I prefer to be with someone who knows a thing or two about surviving in the woods.

Have you ever written something on a bathroom stall? Nope. The worst thing I’ve done was write on one of the desks in grade school.

Least favorite alcoholic drink? Out of the ones I tried, I didn’t like whisky at all. Too bitter for me < Twins. I hated the ever living shit out of Jim Beam and Jack Daniels when I tried them.

Have you ever kissed someone named Paul or Luke? I haven’t. I have a cousin named Luke that I used to babysit and I kissed him a lot when he was a baby, if that counts lol.

How did you meet the last male you texted? I met them at the Marcos heroes’ burial protests. I have no idea how I started talking to them, but I think it was because they were wearing a Nexus shirt and I told them I like it, and we started talking from there.

Have you ever had an embarrassing email address? Yup. I wasn’t allowed to make an email address when I was young so I had to sneak around and make a fake Yahoo username so my parents would never find me. I don’t remember what it was anymore but it was for sure embarrassing so I’m just grateful my brain threw that memory out.

Do you put shampoo in your left or right hand? OMG this survey is so long. I put it on my left hand.

Do you have a bull ring through your nose? Nope, no piercings.

Do you and your dad get along? Better than my mom and I.

Can you see your purse right now? Nah, it’s in my room upstairs.

Are you wearing any perfume? What kind? I am not. I haven’t had a reason to in a while.

Are there products in your hair? Just shampoo and conditioner.

When you get colds, do you use nasal spray to help get your nose unstuffy? No. Whaaaat, those exist? I just blow my nose or just live through the stuffiness.

Do you actually like sneezing? I love it, it’s such an underrated sensation lmao. It feels better when you’ve actually been needing to sneeze for a while and it finally comes through.

Have you taken a shower yet today? Nope, I usually take them at night.

Do you have one best friend who is always there for you? I have two.

Do you wear skirts a lot? Not really, I don’t like skirts because I feel exposed wearing them. I prefer shorts.

Do you wear sweatpants a lot? Nope.

How many pairs of jeans do you think you have? I can remember five pairs right now, but I have many other kinds of bottoms in my closet like culottes and leggings.

Do you like hoodies? They’re okay. I find them more comfortable if they belong to someone else, hah.

Big ones or the form fitting kind? Form-fitting if I’m buying for myself; big ones if I’m borrowing from Gabie.

Do you wear polo shirts a lot? I never wear them. My mom made me wear them often as a kid and it made me feel like a boy, so I’ve kinda had a predisposition to be wary of them as I got older since I was teased frequently enough about being a tomboy as a kid as it is.

Did you ever actually have a rubber duck? I think we probably did.

Are you one of those people who claim to live with no regrets? I have one big regret and the rest of my ‘regrets’ are small and are stuff like “I regret not picking up food on my way home because I’m now hungry.” The way I’ve always thought is that I did the things I did before because I chose to do them and I was happy to do them, and I’ve honestly felt barely any regret even though things didn’t turn out the best. There’ve been mistakes but I’ve just chosen to learn from them instead of regretting them at the same time. Do you love your computer? Love it.

Do you drink coffee? Yeah. I’ve been doing it a lot this quarantine but I think it’s been giving me headaches, so I stopped for now.

Do you basically like all of your clothes? No. There are some at the bottom of the pile that I’m no longer crazy about anymore.

Do you shop mostly with your parents, your friends, or by yourself? My mom. She tends to know what looks best on me, and she also pays for the clothes hahaha.

[pearlchu]

Answer all the “MAKE ME ADMIT STUFF”

1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged?

It was my girlfriend so yeah absolutely!

2. You talked to an ex today, correct?

No.

3. Have you taken someones virginity?

Yep.

4. Is trust a big issue for you?

Yeah. It takes me a long time to fully trust people. I’ve been hurt a lot.

5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently?

No because she’s in ANOTHER STATE

6. What are you excited for?

To see my baby

7. What happened tonight?

Well last night I watched videos about Lolita fanshion and watched frozen 2 and then passed out lol

8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted?

No. Live your best life doll face. As long as you’re being safe or have a friend to make sure you’re okay.

9.Is confidence cute?

It is. I love it when people show their confidence.

10. What is the last beverage you had?

Water

11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust?

Only one and he and I barely talk anymore

12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans?

Several!

13. What are you gonna do Saturday night?

Stay up late taking to my girlfriend and telling her how pretty I think she is

14. What are you going to spend money on next?

Groceries and maybe a new blouse

15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed?

Nope

16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months?

I hope to grow into a more positive version ofmyself ^.^

17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything?

My mom or my gf

18. The last time you felt broken?

Last month

19. Have you had sex today?

I wish lol

20. Are you starting to realize anything?

I need to tap back into the things I used to really love

21. Are you in a good mood?

Right now? Meh.

22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks?

Yes!!! That’d be so cool!!!

23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s?

Fuck him. No.

24. What do you want right this second?

To be cuddling my girlfriend. I wanna sit on her lapppp

25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy?

I’d say “fuck you” and block them lmfao

26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color?

Nope

27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?

Nope

28. What was the last thing that made you laugh?

A giant ass cucumber at work

29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now?

Yes. My girlfriend cause SHES SLEEPING

30. Does everyone deserve a second chance?

No

31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to?

A little bit

32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do?

I sure hope she does!!

33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda?

Nope. I dabble sometimes.

34. Listening to?

Anything new and good

35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore?

all the time at work

36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is?

Yep

37. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Sort of. I believe in connection at first sight.

38. Who did you last call?

My mom

39. Who was the last person you danced with?

Myself

40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed?

Because I thought it was our last kiss and it was but that’s okay cause they turned out to be a shitty person

41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake?

So long. I miss those.

42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today?

Nope

43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?

I feel like I constantly embarrass myself in front of her lol

44. Do you tan in the nude?

If I were alone sure

45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss?

100% yes

46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night?

Yep. My girlfriend

47. Who was the last person to call you?

My mom

48. Do you sing in the shower?

Sometimes

49. Do you dance in the car?

Noooooo

50. Ever used a bow and arrow?

I used to do archery so yeppers

51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?

I was....6 or 7??

52. Do you think musicals are cheesy?

Absolutely but I still love them

53. Is Christmas stressful?

Sometimes. It depends.

54. Ever eat a pierogi?

Yep!!! Homemade and delicious

55. Favorite type of fruit pie?

Cherry or banana

56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?

Marine biologist

Paleontologist

Veterinarian

57. Do you believe in ghosts?

Yep!!

58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?

Yeah and they’re usually followed by feeling queasy or off

59. Take a vitamin daily?

Nope

60. Wear slippers?

Ew never

61. Wear a bath robe?

If I could I would

62. What do you wear to bed?

Nothing

63. First concert?

Some Christian dude. 0/10

64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?

Target!!!!!!

65. Nike or Adidas?

Both

66. Cheetos Or Fritos?

Cheetos

67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?

Both

68. Favorite Taylor Swift song?

Ew

69. Ever take dance lessons?

I used to do ballet when I was a kid. Also hip hop and tap

70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?

Psychologist/book author

71. Can you curl your tongue?

Yep!

72. Ever won a spelling bee?

Once

73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy?

Oh yeah. I get over emotional when ppl are nice to me lol

74. What is your favorite book?

None at the moment

75. Do you study better with or without music?

Without. I have a hard time reading with too much noise

76. Regularly burn incense?

I do!!!

77. Ever been in love?

Yep

78. Who would you like to see in concert?

Harry Styles rn

79. What was the last concert you saw?

Tim McGraw. I have country roots. I was forced. Don’t ask.

80. Hot tea or cold tea?

Cold

81. Tea or coffee?

Coffee

82. Favorite type of cookie?

Chocolate chip

83. Can you swim well?

I’m okay?? Not great. If I panic I’d drown lol

84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?

Yeppers

85. Are you patient?

I try to be. Some say I’m extremely patient

86. DJ or band, at a wedding?

Both!!!

87. Ever won a contest?

Once

88. Ever have plastic surgery?

Nope but I wouldn’t mind getting a smaller chest at some point

89. Which are better black or green olives?

Green

90. Opinions on sex before marriage?

Hell yess. Let me learn what you like. I wanna know what makes you feel good!!!

91. Best room for a fireplace?

Bathroom

92. Do you want to get married

Yes!!!! I dream about being a wife and mom someday

[theartoflovingthomashunt]

Iowa State Fair

* * * The Art of Loving Thomas Hunt Fan Fiction Masterlist * * *

– – –

Characters: Alex (MC), Thomas Hunt

Setting/Notes: This takes place during MC’s vacation in Red Carpet Diaries 3, Chapter 14. It is basically a rewrite of the Matt exclusive scene with Thomas. I kept some details the same but also changed others so it wasn’t verbatim. Also, it has nods to some of my other fics.  

 Day 6-Vacation:  @choicesseptemberchallenge

Rating: PG

– – –

As they continued their walk through town, Thomas stopped to examine a sign in the shop window. “If I remember correctly, you once told me about your first county fair visit.”

Alex smiled and took his hands in her own. “That was our first date… I know its not your thing...”

“You are my thing, Alex,” Thomas kissed her forehead. “If you want to go, we should go.”

“Really?” Alex exclaimed.

“How could I pass up an opportunity to see the famed butter cow sculpture,” Thomas teased.

Before they could even make it through the gates of the fair, a sign caught Alex’s eye. She pulled Thomas toward the petting zoo. “Oh my goodness, we have to go pet the animals!”

Thomas didn’t have a chance to protest before they were already at the exhibit.

Alex stopped next to an enclosure filled with fluffy, freshly hatched chicks. Her eyes wide as she stared in awe of the new babies.

“Would you like to hold one?” The farmer attending the fence offered. 

“Do you need to ask?” Alex beamed.

The attendant placed a chick in her hand. Alex stroked its downy, yellow fluff, as it peeped quietly in her hand. 

“Aww, don’t you have the softest hair, little man,” Alex cooed, fawning over the chick.

“I expect a woman from Iowa to know they have feathers and not hair,” Thomas stated. 

“Don’t worry about him, little guy. He’s just jealous. He thought he had the softest hair but, look at you!” Alex sang. “Who’s the softest?”

Alex noticed a hen watching her severely. She set the chick down in the enclosure. “Bye, little one.” The chick flapped his wings and ran back to his mom. 

“Don’t worry. You’re still my favorite,” Alex laced her fingers with Thomas’s and guided him toward the horse’s stables. A newborn foal standing beside its mom caught her attention.

“You may be the sweetest, most precious baby in the whole entire world,” Alex gushed over the foal. His mom whinnied in response. “You’re beautiful too, Mommy”. The mare neighed.

“Did you forget to tell me you speak animal?” Thomas questioned.

“I just spent a lot of time around animals as a child. Chazz, his sisters and I would walk around and sneak into some farms to pet the animals. Best. Therapy. EVER!” Alex beamed.

The foal took a step closer to Alex so that she could pet him through the bars in the stall.

“Hi, I’m Alex. It looks like your name is Charming. Now isn’t that the most perfect name for such a charming little prince pony,” Alex raved, as she read the sign next to them. “That makes you Lady and a fine one you are!”

Thomas watched Alex as Charming nuzzled against her hand.

Alex took a step back to move closer to Thomas. She took his hand and walked back to the foal. Alex guided Thomas’s hand toward Charming. 

“What are you doing?” Thomas inquired. 

“You cannot leave the fair without petting at least one animal. It’s the rule,” Alex explained. 

“I’m not sure that’s an actual rule,” Thomas challenged. “I would like to see the legal documentation stating such.”

Alex guided his hand along the foal’s neck. Charming moved closer to them. Alex gently removed her hand as she looked up at Thomas. The country did him well. He hadn’t once mentioned his creative block. And he had been open to trying new things. She couldn’t wait to be his wife.  

“You seemed to be getting along well. Maybe one day if you need a horse for a film you can call your new friend, Charming, for a favor,” Alex teased. 

“You never know,” Thomas smirked.

Thomas and Alex stopped to pet a few more animals before washing their hands and heading on their way.

As they walked down the alleyway, Alex stopped abruptly. “Do you smell that?”

“What?” Thomas asked.

“Fair food!” Alex grinned.

“How are you always hungry?” Thomas marveled.

“It’s a gift.” Alex and Thomas headed to the nearest concession stand. “Funnel cake or Fried Oreos?”

“What in God’s name are Fried Oreos?” Thomas asked; his face wrinkled in disgust. 

“Fried Oreos it is! You will love them,” Alex proclaimed.

“I have my reservations. You already tried to poison my palette with that repugnant Slurpee. I’m not sure I trust your food judgment anymore,” Thomas taunted.

“Just try it,” Alex suggested, moving a cookie toward his mouth. “For me?”

Thomas sighed and obliged. His eyes opened wide. “That is actually not the worst thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Not the worst thing ever? What a compliment,” Alex pushed Thomas playfully. Alex handed Thomas another Oreo and then took one for herself. “Mmmm… delicious!” 

Alex and Thomas continued until they found the butter sculpture exhibit. 

“Here it is,” Alex began. “The butter cow!”

“Huh,” Thomas expressed. “It is a cow sculpted from butter. I’m not really sure what I expected. And they do this every year?” 

“It’s tradition,” Alex acknowledged. 

“Do you ever wonder how these traditions start? Who decided ‘let me just take  this giant slab of butter and sculpt a cow’?” Thomas questioned.

“No idea,” Alex admitted. “But, it’s a lot of fun to look at. I mean sure it started with the cow, but look at how far it has come.” Alex motioned her hand around the exhibit, which showcased Sesame Street butter sculptures this year.

“I won’t deny the talent of the sculptors; however, I cannot pretend to understand the medium,” Thomas explained. 

“I know it is against your way of thinking but, you don’t have to understand absolutely everything to appreciate it,” Alex offered.

Thomas turned to Alex and cradled her face in his hand. “I know that to be true because, I appreciate you more than you know and yet, I will spend the rest of my life trying to understand all that you are and never truly know everything.”

Alex pulled Thomas close and let her lips touch his. She kissed him softly, letting her teeth graze his lower lip as she pulled away.

“Where to next?” Thomas asked.

“How about we go play some games?” Alex answered. “Maybe you can teach me how to beat one of them or at least show off your hard work and practice.”

“As you wish,” Thomas agreed with a smile. He and Alex made their way back out into the fairgrounds. They continued exploring the fair until late into the evening, enjoying every perfect moment together.

---

Thomas Tags:  @hopelessromantic1352  ;  ; @alleksa16  ; @the-soot-sprite  ;  @mfackenthal ; @alj4890  ; @flyawayboo; @twin-skltns ;  @pb-boeboe ; @lilyofchoices  ; @choicesseptemberchallenge

[lovemesomesurveys]

Do make sure you dot your I`s when you write? Yeah. Do you know anyone with a dual citizenship? No, I don’t think so. What sports teams do you root for, if any? (Extra points for Boston fans.) None. Do you dunk your cookies in milk? They’re better dunked in coffee. ^Ever have the cookie break so you have a giant chunk in your glass? D: I use a spoon actually and it helps a lot.

What is today but yesterday’s tomorrow? What. What is one thing you wish you were better at? Adulting. Life. What is something you are confident about? That I’m not confident. ^Is it hard for you to speak positively of yourself? Yes, extremely. I don’t think highly of myself at all. Use this space to give yourself a compliment: No. What did you wear today? I’m wearing leggings and a Guardians of the Galaxy shirt. Do you have the hots for a celebrity? If so, who? Alexander Skarsgard. Have you ever been physically addicted to a substance? What? Caffeine. My body is also dependent on my pain medication, which just happens naturally after taking it for so long like I have. How do you feel about needles? Terrified. What is your favorite accent to listen to? Some British ones, some southern ones. What did you buy the last time you went shopping for clothing? I just ordered a shirt for the new Avengers movie online. I’m all about graphic T’s and also representing my favorite movies/TV shows/fandoms. What was the reason you last got dressed up? A couple years ago when my aunt and I saw Phantom of the Opera on broadway. Have you ever been the subject of cruel rumors? No. ^ What were they? Tell me about someone who makes you laugh. My brother is very funny, smart, outgoing, and driven. Do you prefer loose or form-fitting clothing? I like loose shirts now. I used to be about form fitting, but I’m about comfort more now. ^ What about on your prefered gender? Form fitting with some things like a flannel or baseball T. What do you do when you are really, really mad? Cry, mostly. Would you rather go naked than wear fur? I’d just not wear fur and wear something else, ha. Pick one: Exsanguinate or Eviscerate? What. Do medical terms make you uncomfortable? If I don’t know what it is and doctors just throw medical terms at me because it sounds scarier. And if it serious, then I definitely want to understand what it is. What is something that always makes you uncomfortable? The heat. It makes me miserable. What does your umbrella look like? I don’t have one. Have any unpleasant public transit stories to tell? I had to ride the bus in college sometimes, and there was this older man in his 40s that would always make me uncomfortable because he would hit on me, say inappropriate things, and try to ask me out numerous times even though I repeatedly told him no. It was apparently obvious to everyone but him that I was uncomfortable and at one point the bus driver even spoke to him about it. I tried riding the bus at different times than him to avoid him, but sometimes I didn’t have a choice. It was just awful. I do not miss those days at all. Are you good at teaching someone something new? Not really. I feel like I don’t explain it very well. Do you put a line through your 7`s? Sometimes. ^^ What about your Z`s? Sometimes. Have you ever gotten a 'paper cut’ from a cardboard box? (I have, it sucks!) Ugh, yes. What is your gangstah name? I don’t have one. What does 'chillin chillin’ mean, anyway? o.0 You mean, “chillin’, killin’.” Haha. Points if you know where that’s from. What is one thing that someone could do to you that is unforgivable? Harm one of my loved ones or myself. Are you able to forgive and forget? I forgive, but forgetting is another story. Do you like cold pizza? I used to. Not so much anymore. What is your favorite fruit? Bananas. What about your favorite fruit juice, if it differs from solid fruit? I don’t like juice. Do you like broccoli and cheese? :3 Yes. What about potatoes and cheese? Yes. ..Everything tastes better with cheese. …Or bacon. Fact or fiction? Cheese, yes. Bacon is disgusting. Have you had the banana creme oreos? <3 They’re godly. Omg no, but I want them. I’ve never seen those! ^ What about the mint ones? Yum. Yeah. Is life REALLY like a box of chocolates? You really don’t know what you’re gonna get, do ya. Quick! Look behind you! What do you see? My headboard, a string of lights around it, the wall, and a Swedish flag. Go ahead, tell me a secret: Nah. Have you written a letter by hand, lately? To whom? No. I couldn’t tell you the last time I’ve had written anything apart from my signature. The Red Sox owned the Yankees on opening day! Are you happy about that?<3 I don’t care about sports Toaster or toaster oven? Toaster. Roasted, fried or grilled? Depends? Do you set high expectations for yourself? I just have given up in a lot of ways, honestly. Are you afraid of failure? I am a failure. What are you most known for? I don’t know. Do you have any reputations? What are they? *shrug* Do you wear band shirts? Yeah, I have a few. ^ What band was on the last one you wore? Linkin Park. Do you own any hats? Describe them. Yes. I have a black hat that has a hole at the top for my hair to go through, a purple hat my nurse got me from her trip to Jamaica, a hat that says “California” on it and has the state flag and the bear, and I have several beanies that I don’t feel like describing. What about masks, you got any? Describe those. “We all wear masks, metaphorically speaking.”  Points if you know where that’s from, too.

Anyway, I have 2 masquerade masks.

What was the last thing to leave you speechless? I don’t know. Do your parents like your friends? If they don’t, why not? Yeah. Have you been called a bad influence? No. How do you feel about the Chinese practice of foot-binding? I was asked about this in that 5,000 question survey series. To me it sounds painful and awful, but what made it worse to me was that it said it was done to girls when they were young. I haven’t researched this, though. What about Chinese food? Love it or hate it? I like it. It’s not something I have often. Ever feel like you know someone but can’t figure out how? I do that a lot with actors on a TV show or movie. I’m always like, “wait I’ve seen them before in something else!” and then have to look them up, ha. Or they remind me of someone. Describe your favorite pair of socks. Black ankle socks. Have you experienced any life changing news, events, etc, lately? Health stuff. Do you ever spell your name wrong? No, I’m quite familiar with it by now. Do you like when people make you signs? I do. [; I haven’t seen that since the Myspace days. I remember that was a big thing. What do you daydream about most often? Everything. Random stuff. Have any self-done piercings? No. Ever pierced someone else? No. Do you get distracted easily? Sometimes. Is talking to strangers enjoyable for you, or stressful? I avoid it unless I need to for some reason. How do you feel about getting new neighbors? It’s kind of like, “ah, I hope they’re not loud and annoying.” lol. I’m an old lady. How many ceiling fans are in your home? 2. Do you tweet your life away? Join the club. Follow me! @geisteskranker I tweet or retweet stuff a few times or so a day. How do you feel about shameless self promoting? I don’t care. What are your opinions on SPAM? The canned meat, not unsolicited mail. It’s disgusting. Does anyone ever wonder if you’re drunk based on your bahavior? No. When reading words. like. this. do. you always pause after the periods? Yeah. I do. What about screaming when reading something IN ALL CAPS? I perceive it as yelling, but also as something important. Are you currently looking forward to something? Avengers: Endgame. ‘Nuff said.

[thepokyone]

Locked

(gif not mine)

Pairing: Loki x Reader (ft. the Avengers)

Content/Warnings: Angst; fluff; Clint being a bit of a jerk

Words: 1603

A/N: Well, the long awaited sequel to Spinning has finally arrived. I kinda drew inspiration from Imagine Dragons’ song Next To Me for this fic, so make sure to check out that song because it’s honestly awesome. Anyways, enjoy!

Part 1

For several moments, you weren’t completely sure if Thor was planning on attacking or congratulating Loki. Jane seemed to be thinking along the same lines, moving to place a restraining hand on Thor’s chest, but the thunder god finally relaxed and gave his brother a beaming smile. “Well congratulations then, brother!”

“Thank you, Thor,” Loki said smoothly, pulling his sleeve back down. “Though, if you don’t mind, I would like to get to know my soulmate, so if you could take your friends elsewhere…”

“Oh, right, of course. Come Jane, Darcy. Stark has put in a new microwave, it even speaks to you!” Thor said happily. Jane looked amused, as did Darcy, who sent you a discreet thumbs up before pulling the door shut behind her.

Your fingers tapped nervously against your thigh. “So…”

“Would you like to sit?” Loki offered, waving towards the couch.

“Sure, yeah.” You accepted the invitation, taking a seat on the couch and tucking a leg under you. “So you’re stuck here, huh?”

“There are worse fates, I suppose,” He mused, stretching an arm across the back of the couch. “What about you? Where are you from? I’ve been reading up on Earth’s geography, though I can’t promise I’ll recognize the place.”

“Well, you know where Thor was first banished to? New Mexico? That’s where I live, I went there for college which is how I met Jane and Darcy,” You explained. “We’re a pretty unlikely group of friends, to be honest.”

Loki’s lips flicked upwards into what could almost be called a smile. “I had noticed. So you were there when Thor was mortal?”

“No. I was actually visiting family and missed all the action, believe it or not. Just my luck.”

“It’s probably for the best, I did try to kill him. I’m thankful that you weren’t there to get caught in the crossfire,” He admitted.

“That’s one thing I don’t get. Why do you hate Thor so much? I mean, it’s obvious that he cares about you,” You pointed out.

That gave Loki pause. “I suppose we just never really gotten along. He’s Thor, the oh-so-perfect Asgardian prince, and I’m Loki, the frost giant who will never be good enough.”

“That’s not true,” You said softly, honestly surprised he had confided in you like that. “Loki, adopted or not, the two of you are brothers. It’s obvious that Thor doesn’t care that you’re a frost giant, he just cares that you’re his brother. And for the record, I don’t care that you’re a frost giant, either.”

He didn’t appear to be convinced. “We’ll see.”

You ended up moving into Stark Tower a couple weeks after meeting Loki. Both he and the other Avengers wanted to make sure you were safe from external threats, which considering your soulmate was Loki, was probably a good idea. It was only natural for you to want to, anyways, since that’s where your soulmate was, but the fact that you were hanging around a gang of superheroes took some getting used to. Not to mention the fact that one of the most hated men on Earth was your soulmate, but that was a whole other can of worms.

There was a learning curve when it came to being around super spies and technical geniuses, but you ended up learning pretty quickly. In fact, there were three things you learned within your first week. One: never leave food unattended, otherwise it will get eaten. Two: don’t attempt to sneak up on Natasha. It didn’t end well for Tony and you doubted it would end any better for you. And three: never leave Clint and Loki alone in a room together.

Understandably, Clint didn’t particularly like Loki. Saying Clint loathed Loki would be a more apt phrase. Unfortunately, this meant Clint would pick a fight with the god of mischief which ended with Clint getting his ass handed to him or Loki stalking away to sulk for a few hours.

About three weeks into you moving into the Tower, however, things went a bit too far. You had spent most of the day with Natasha, the two of you having a girl’s day getting to know each other better, and when you returned you were intent on going straight to find Loki. He could usually be found in his room, or the library, or even the common room on the rare occasion that he was feeling like speaking with the other Avengers. However, he was nowhere to be found.

“Have any of you seen Loki?” You asked, addressing Tony, Clint, and Steve who were discussing their latest mission. “I can’t find him anywhere.”

Clint choked on the water he was drinking, causing the other two men to give him confused glances. Tony shrugged. “No, I haven’t. I’m sure Reindeer Games is around somewhere, just use your compass. That is what it’s there for.”

“I saw him in the library this morning, if that helps,” Steve offered. “But I haven’t seen him since, sorry. Clint?”

The archer cleared his throat. “Oh, um… no. I haven’t seen him.”

“He’s probably just with Thor or something,” You said with a shrug. “Thanks anyways, guys.”

You gave them a wave before wandering off, deciding to just chill in your room and watch some Netflix, though you couldn’t rid yourself of the distinct feeling that something was wrong. You had been encouraged (mainly by Steve) to follow your gut, especially if you thought something wasn’t right, so you glanced down at your compass and started walking in the direction it was pointed.

It took a little bit of trial and error to figure out what floor Loki was on, though you figured once your compass stopped wobbling uncertainly that you were in the right place. You were surprised that he was on the floor devoted mainly to training and gym activities and followed the compass on your skin towards the showers.

He wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and the floor was quiet as the Avengers were all off eating dinner. “Loki?” You called, padding through the shower room. There was no answer. “Jarvis, have you seen Loki?” Perhaps you should have asked the AI first.

“He appears to be in the sauna,” Jarvis responded promptly.

“Well what’s he doing in there?” You muttered, mostly to yourself. You jiggled the handle of the sauna door - it was locked. Something was definitely wrong. “Jarvis, can you unlock the door to the sauna?”

“Of course,” Jarvis said, the lock clicking a moment later. You yanked the door open, immediately assaulted with a wave of nearly nauseating heat.

You barely had to go in to find your soulmate, slumped against the wall by the door. “Loki? Are you okay?”

He stirred at your statement, glancing up at you warily. You let out an audible gasp at his appearance - his skin was completely blue and his eyes were red. The heat must have forced him back into his natural frost giant form. “No.”

“Jarvis, turn off the heat in the sauna,” You ordered, crouching down to drape his arm over your shoulder and heave him up. “Let’s get you out of here.”

You had to half-drag Loki out of the sauna, and he was heavier than he looked. “Here, lean against the wall,” You ordered, yanking open the curtain to the nearest shower and turning it on, making it as cold as possible. “Get under the water.”

He managed to stumble over, and you got significantly doused whilst preventing him from falling face-first on the tile. The icy water seemed to revive him. “Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah, it’s me,” You confirmed. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” He said, still leaning heavily on you.

“Here, we need to get your shirt off. It’ll help cool you down,” You ordered, and you jumped as his form flashed and a majority of his clothes vanished, sans what appeared to be a pair of swim trunks. “I thought you couldn’t do magic?”

“I can do some. Not a lot. Don’t tell Thor,” Loki admitted. He seemed to be regaining his strength, at least enough that he was speaking coherently once more, and it was only now that he realized his skin was blue rather than its normal pale color. He looked down at himself, then back at you, then at himself once more.

“It’s okay,” You assured him.

“I look like a monster,” He spat, disgust in his voice. “It’s not okay. Not to mention you should have frostbite from touching me.”

“Well, you don’t want to give me frostbite, do you?” You asked. His head gave a brief shake. “I figured as much. I believe you have more control than you think you do, Loki. And I don’t think you look like a monster.”

He snorted. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. I’ll prove it.” You pulled him down into a kiss, only moderately surprised when he didn’t jerk away and instead wrapped an arm around your waist to deepen the kiss. His lips were cool, moving in perfect sync with your own.

Later, after you had punched Clint for locking Loki in the sauna, you’d claim that you and Loki had your first kiss out in Central Park and not under an icy shower. But the two of you knew, and many months later Loki admitted to you that that moment was when he realized he had fallen in love with you. You smiled, said you knew, and told him you loved him too.

Life was good with the man you loved. And you never had a directionless compass again.

Tag List:  @the-crime-fighting-spider @micachu1331 @esoltis280 @ilvermornyqueen @teaand-cookies @alittlebitofmagic @bluebird214 @lovely-geek @fleurs-en-ruines @loki-god-of-my-life @awesomehaylzus @ldyhawkeye @ldyhawkeye @small-wolf-in-the-snow @the-bleeding-rose @momc95 @loki-laufey-son @hp-hogwartsexpress @haven-in-writing @alivingfanlady @micachu1331 @little-miss-mischief1 @pepperr-pottss @t-talkative @lady-loki-ren @usedtobeabaker @val-kay-rie @inn-ocuous @xclo02 @ex-bookjunky @stone2576 @dkpink123 @loki-laufey-son

[a-diary-of-delicacy-blog]

Series 1: Days Leading to Death Part 1

The days leading up to my death are interesting, in the sense that a lot happened, not necessarily that intrigue was spiked. The events were plenty and lengthy, and the only real way to describe them is with this narrative. I am writing this to you from beyond the grave. Or, more accurately, from my bed, but now, as you are reading this, I am, in fact, six feet under. Or maybe they cremated me. Or maybe no one found me and I am just a missing child. I don’t really know. I haven’t planned how I want to do this. I always envisioned myself in a bath of pink water, two long gashes down my arms. And then sometimes I thought I was going to be the girl on the white plush carpet, foam coming out of my mouth and a stomach of antidepressants and sleeping pills. But, in full honesty, I think I am too weak for that. Or maybe just too lazy. I mean, if you really think about it, I would have to find access to all those pills, firstly. And I’ve always been a bitch when it comes to blood. The first time, it was almost an accident. I was in my room, the sun was streaming into my window, but it was still kind of dull. I had cleaned my room, lied down to listen to some music, and I just sort of felt like sleeping. I just wanted to be asleep, and maybe not wake up for a while. Maybe I could even get out of school the next day. I ate some sleeping medication, not really trying to kill myself, but successfully putting myself into a 42 hour coma of sorts. My mom told me that when she tried to wake me up from school that I told her I was sick and that I had been throwing up. The bathroom was greasy and smelled of vomit. I have no memory of ever getting up, stumbling to the bathroom and throwing up half of the pills I took, but apparently I did. The mess proved that. My second suicide attempt was both a few slashes to my wrists and a few handfuls of ibuprofen p.m. However, my mother ended up finding me and cleaning me up. I think that if I had just bled a little more, I could have actually gone to the hospital. And the third and most recent, I don’t know as if I would have actually died, but something inside of me wanted it to kill me so damn bad. I just stopped eating. Just like that. I didn’t eat for days. I was shaking, sleeping 20 hours a day, mostly intermittent naps. But I just refused to eat. I told my parents that I didn’t feel well, and only pretended to nibble. The only times I did eat, I threw up after. I guess in my head I felt that I would be able to deprive myself of the nutrients and energy it needed and I would simply die. This lasted several days. By the time I reached a normal diet again, I had been so influenced by what I had done that I couldn’t ever see myself going back to the way I was. I needed a way of controlling the things that happened in my life. I couldn’t control the baby my dad was now expecting, or the court hearings my mother was serving. I couldn’t face the college applications and the due dates. I’m not really sure what I expect. It has been a little over two weeks since this happened, trying to kill myself by not eating. I don’t think it will be immediate. I don’t think that it will be easy. I think that this is the most not-lazy, least-bitchy way I could kill myself. Ever. It is going to be slow. It is going to be painful. It is going to be consuming and toxic. Even now, I can feel how the vomit has been corroding my teeth and my mouth. I can feel how shaky I am after a fast and how my knees are starting to hurt from the smallest of strains. And this is when I still eat! What is going to happen when I really commit? When I really get to fasting five days at a time? Right now my parents watch what I do very closely, especially my stepmom. She comes home from work every day and asks me what I ate for breakfast and for lunch. I can’t tell her that I eat at school anymore. I haven’t been in school for months now. I can’t tell her that I have been eating at my mom’s. I barely visit there anymore. I have been throwing small amounts of food away, or feeding it to the dog. Just a slice of bread here or a granola bar there, just enough to give credit to my lies. They don’t notice yet, and I don’t think they ever will. I know I am not skinny, I am practically huge, in fact. I am overweight, I can see that in the mirror. I know that it is not just my head playing tricks on me. I know I can’t have body dysmorphia or whatever. That isn’t possible; why? Because I can’t just see my body and all its immense imperfections. I can feel them. I can grab at the fat under my ribs, and tug at the skin on my hips. It’s not just an illusion that my hands can’t fit around my thighs, not even close to. It’s not a mirage that my calves jiggle when I walk. Body dysmorphia is for people who are skinny and think that they are fat. Not fat people who think they are fat. I suppose the conclusion that I am trying to reach is that this time I can be subtle. Did you know that after my second suicide attempt, I wasn’t allowed to go out, or see anyone, or do anything at all for six whole months? I was grounded for trying to take my life. I don’t know if anyone knows about the first time (until now), and I don’t know if I want them to. My parents like to hold my past over my head. At dinner parties they will bring up my self-harm tendencies and comment on the disturbing pictures that used to be painted on my walls. They like to make comments about how disgusting I was, cutting and scarring my body. But they don’t know about the beauty that I felt when I did that. It was something that I could control. And isn’t that the whole point? I preached about it back up there about control. I can’t control anything! Expect for my own body. I can control its bruises and the blood and my sleep and my weight. Even though it might take a few punches, razors, pills, and fasts, I can control it. And I haven’t tried everything, of course. I don’t burn myself (I’ve been a bitch about fire and heat since I burned my arm baking cookies; I was ten and I still have the scar eight years later) and I haven’t tried tying a rope around my neck. But I like to believe that I have a fair choice of past experiences and this plan that I have come up with ranks by far the best. They won’t notice this until it is far too late. They won’t notice this and ground me and keep me from seeing anyone. They won’t notice until my bones protrude and my hair falls out. Hell, maybe they won’t even notice until I’m dead. I guess that really doesn’t matter anyway. I leave for college in four months so they can’t really shove food down my throat after that. I can see myself as a pretty little university freshman, my roommate asks me if I want to go to the dining hall with her; “No, that’s okay, I have to study.” I say as I casually grip my thighs, fingertip to fingertip. I can see myself slowly withering away. That is, of course, if I don’t die long before then. Like I said, I’m really not sure how I am going to do this. Maybe I wait until I die in my first semester of college, after only eating an apple for three weeks. Maybe I’ll die tonight! I have my old razors in my drawer, tucked neatly in a packet just begging to slash some soft skin. Maybe I will just go downtown and jump off the bridge. When I was thirteen, I learned that kids that jump off that bridge on dares or just for fun often don’t make it back up. You see, when the old bridge collapsed or was taken down or whatever, they left the old frame in the river below. So the giant metal beams and the concrete columns are all still there, just a dozen or so feet under the water. The new bridge is so high, that you can get a pretty good depth by jumping from it. It wouldn’t be too hard to position the jump just right, just where the highest part of the sunken metal is. I could just do that. Right now. Nice and easy. But I prefer this, I prefer to die the way I deserve to, slow and painfully. I suppose this is taking self-hatred to a whole new level, where my perpetual suicide turns into a game of how long I can keep myself alive and in pain. So far, I guess, since making the decision to die, it has been a long time that that game has been played. I just keep moving my pawns, my razors and pills and calories. And as I get closer and closer to the end, I seem only to feel lighter. Not necessarily in terms of weight, but maybe in responsibility. If I die, I won’t have to worry about college loans or the new baby brother. But maybe these are things I want to worry about? See, I am just so conflicted. I want to die, more desperately than I could ever possibly describe. But I also have five baby brothers, one of whom I haven’t even met, and a baby sister. What would happen to their tiny little hearts to never see their big sister again? I suppose it may hurt my parents. My stepmom would be resentful, my dad would blame himself. I can’t imagine how my mom would take it. She would probably fall to another heroin relapse. My stepdad would call me selfish but be sad anyway. He would be right, of course. To leave all my family, my lover. Jon would take it hard. He does that. He likes to believe that most things are his fault when they aren’t. He blames himself for the breakup of his previous girlfriend. But from loving him for a year now, and for many more that may have come, I can tell that he could not have caused any ill feelings. He says that he can’t even tell me why they broke up because he is far too ashamed. But I know that there is nothing that he could have done. He is the best person. I am unbelievably in love with him and I am completely bewildered by how he has chosen me. I can’t list more than three reasons to be with me; pussy, comfort, attention. And while these are not the reasons that he is with me, knowing this because I know he is not at all, even close, this shallow, I know that he must have other reasons that I could never begin to understand. I am not pretty; any photo of me could tell you that. I am not skinny, I am not overly smart, though I know my way around an intellectual phrase or two, and I am not funny or interesting. I try to think that I am but I can tell by the way people react to my “jokes” and my sense of humor that I am awkward at best. So I am left to question the exact reasons for his being here and I can only hope that they are not good enough reasons to really hurt him when I die. And who knows? While I fantasize about how I will kill myself, I will also imagine the future I have with him. He has an amazing job working for an amazing salary, and he is barely out of his junior year of college. I am on my way to a degree. He dreams of building a house upstate, a bay window and a wraparound porch just for me. We have plans to road trip and see the world. Do I want to give that up? I don’t really know why this would even be a question. Maybe I am just doing this for attention. Maybe I am just looking for some sort of reason to be different. I have no reason to be sad, besides the physical aspects of my own self that are so damn easy to change. But I simply don’t like the simple responsibilities of living. Breathing hurts. Walking is strenuous. Every word that I speak makes me realize further how much better things would be if I never spoke in the first place. Mirrors are my worst enemy, or maybe it is my own head that is the problem. I assume a lot of girls would kill for a body like mine, curvy and voluptuous. Well, all I can say is that they can have it. I don’t want my body, with hips and an ass and good tits. I want bones and goosebumps and bruises. I don’t want to look the way I do. But this is no reason to just kill yourself. So I ask myself again why I do. I simply don’t want to live in a world of constant approval seeking. Everything that I do is for someone else; how I dress, the school I choose, my haircuts. It’s a constant attempt at impressing people that I don’t care about. And it isn’t enough to just “do it for myself,” because I don’t deserve self-fulfillment anymore. I am way beyond the point of deserving the things I have. I don’t deserve Jon, with the way I fight and treat him. I am ungrateful and unappreciative and I still have the nerve to pick fights for no reason. I don’t deserve the laptop I am typing this on, or the bed I sleep in or the shoes I wear. I don’t deserve any of this silver platter shit that has been handed to me my whole fucking life so what’s the point of pretending I deserve the air I breathe or the food I eat? I fill out these damn applications, asking me about the community service I’ve done. I haven’t done a single thing for any other person but myself. Whenever a situation presents itself, the first thing that crosses my mind is “how can Sky benefit from this? What can Sky gain from this seemingly selfless task?” And if I can’t come up with an answer, I ignore the whole situation completely. I will do nothing if I don’t get something from it. I am a selfish bitch and it has taken me almost exactly eighteen fucking years to realize it. And it was eighteen wasted years for that matter. I have nothing to show for when I have been alive. I ruined a couple of teens lives when I was conceived, I made some younger siblings lives hell by being a bully as a kid, and I started countless fights and problems in the lives of everyone around me. I could detail endless lists of every little thing I have ruined for Jon, my brothers, my parents, my school mates, my coworkers. I could write on sticky notes and label every person with the misdeed I have committed against them. Some may require just one little note, and others would have novels taped to their backs. So why do I deserve the air that God or whoever the fuck determined that my grandpa didn’t, or that all those beautiful souls who have lost their lives to the hands of fucking bullies like me. Why do they all get death and I get to walk this earth free and happy? What gives me the right to what they didn’t get? NOTHING. Every time I eat, I am succumb to deafening and completely overwhelming guilt. Not just because of the fact that I aim for double digit weight, but also because I feel as though only good people deserve the pleasures in life. And the taste of my parents’ delicious food is fit for queens, not scum like me. So, then, why do I find myself overeating? Is it hunger, or part of this deluded disorder I have convinced myself I have. It can’t be that. I am literally just gluttonous. That is the bottom line. I know I don’t have an eating disorder, because I eat. I binge. I know I don’t have an eating disorder because I am not underweight. I am fat. And I know this based on my reflection. I need no other proof. But I want to change that. I will work hard until I am as delicate as I want to be. I need this. I have no other purpose than the control I claim to have over myself. And there we find another contradiction; I say that I have control but I obey weight and hunger. I SHOULD OBEY NOTHING BUT ME. If I say not to eat, then I shouldn’t be fucking eating. I just ate a huge dinner and a dessert with my baby brothers and I have never been a bigger disgrace. By Friday, when I return to a room with a working scale, I will be lighter. And not just because of my wanting to lose weight, but this is the path to suicide. I want to consider this my fallback plan. If I am too much of a bitch to put a gun in my mouth or slit my arms again, then I will just use this. I will starve to death. And worst comes to worse, I will just be a really sad skinny bitch. And I won’t be making excuses anymore. Tomorrow, I suppose, can serve as a restart. These last few days I haven’t been following the rules. I have been eating more than one meal, snacking. Exceeding my calorie limit. How can I have an eating disorder if I enjoy eating so much? Most people set their limit and then that is that, but I literally just cannot do this anymore. I will be the way I want to, so that I can at least die skinny. I’m sick of everything going wrong. I either don’t take enough pills, or don’t cut deep enough, or whatever. But not anymore. My mom isn’t here to clean me up this time. I remember her and Shawn yelling at me in the bathroom, my arms all bloody and I could barely stand. I couldn’t see, the pills were clouding my eyes. They screamed at me and made me wash off my arms. I was still bleeding. There was blood all over the place downstairs. They made sleep upstairs. I can only remember them yelling, and then in the morning I said I needed to shower, but mom said I had to leave for school now. She wouldn’t let me wear a long sleeve shirt, she said everyone needed to see what I had done. So I left my arms to be seen, countless slashes on the left, and one long vertical slit on the other. I remember very little of that day. It’s all in and out. The pills were messing with my head. I thought I was unconscious but everyone at school told me that I was awake, but not moving, or blinking. I don’t remember my classes, my presentations, going to the office trying to call home. But apparently all of it happened. So was that what it is like to be on drugs? Like hardcore ones, not like pot and shit, but the bad ones. Is that what happens? I fucking hope not because I hallucinated like fuck. I imagined people were talking to me, that they were saying my name, in a completely silent room. I must have looked like a fool. Or maybe a stoner. Or a crazy. Either way, I didn’t realize anything until I got home. I remember sitting at the table and realizing that I didn’t remember anything from school that day. I had no friends to reach out to. So I cried in the dark, going to sleep at seven o’clock in the evening. And I suppose I was okay the next morning, but I really don’t remember. From that day on, my memory was spotty, for about a year, I just had trouble remembering simple things. I don’t know what all those pills did to me, but the effects were scary after that. It makes me wonder what would have happened had I succeeded. If I had only taken those few extra pills, or lost that little extra blood. What would have happened? Maybe I would be happy for once. And there it is again, my selfish brain taking over my grateful one. I have a perfectly good life. Besides some slip ups with my mother and her fucking antics, some high school drama, I have a life some people would kill for. But because I hate myself so god damn much, I can’t seem to appreciate it. So what does this mean for my future? Will I ever learn to love myself? Maybe if I’m skinny. If I don’t die first. Maybe. But so much building up to this decision has made “recovery” or whatever seem completely impossible. So I guess the days leading up to my death are actually years, and they may not be over just yet. I don’t really know yet.

[teresatellstales]

Morning Snow

Inspired by several true stories, none of which happened all together.

When I had gone to bed, a winter storm was in full swing. The wind rushed, rattling windows, while heavy snow dropped to the ground. It was still very early, nearing 6am, when our Old Man Pup decided he needed to venture out to do his morning business. Being a senior pup and a 92lb mix of Australian Shepherd and Woolly Mammoth, his joints aren’t what they used to be and he requires assistance with our home’s many stairs. I heard him scrabbling to get up and decided I would guide him down, allowing my husband to stay-toasty warm under the covers.

I should have known something was wrong before I opened the bedroom door. A chilly slice of air attacked my ankles before I could turn the knob, and I was greeted by the bitter cold that would have been expected if I were opening a door to the outside rather than one leading to a hallway. Our Old Man Pup fluffed the air with his nose and pulled back in obvious confusion.

When we got to the landing, the smaller of our spry cats dashed up to greet us with an excited mew and hurried back down. The Old Man Pup settled on the floor and glanced at me as if to say, “I’ll wait right here while you go check it out.” In the span of a few steps, my mind danced with possibilities, its favorite being a branch came down through a window. By the time I reached the ground floor, meaning only a few seconds later, I was convinced I’d encounter shattered glass. What’s more, I imagined the troublemaker sibling of the excited cat balancing on the branch and in desperate danger of encountering a sharp shard. I’d have to wrangle both cats, sweep glass, pull a heavy limb back to the outside, and staple a tarp over the damaged window. All in the bitter cold while being shoeless. All while our senior pup held in whatever he wanted to let out in the yard.

The reality of the situation was quite different.

A door had blown open.

Let me explain a little about the doors in our house. None of them latch without extra attention. They look closed, but they are always teetering on the edge of open. The deadbolts turn just enough to appear in place, when they are really resting in an indentation rather than the proper slot to engage the lock. When the house is closed up for the night, it’s customary to tug on all the swinging doors to check for stability, curse at the ones that open, and repeat the dance until the damn thing is solidly locked. This early morning, I was taught that sometimes even that sequence of steps aren’t enough to ensure we are locked up tight for the night.

It was the mudroom’s door that had opened, one of the few without the added feature of a storm door. The wind had blown a good two to three inches of snow into the room. The smaller cat sat at the threshold connecting the mudroom to the interior of the house, her tail curled around her paws and her yellow eyes watching the snow show. Her brother stood on a nearby cabinet, body and tail stretched into a runners stance with one paw raised and curled in anticipation of the race to the begin. The Old Man Pup woofed a light reminder that he was waiting patiently and that his bladder wasn’t as reliable as it used to be.

If you’ve ever seen snow blown into your home, you know that it’s deeper by the door and slowly peters out further in. My eyes focused on the thicker of the layer until the cat on the cabinet dropped lower into his crouch. I tracked his sight into the mudroom. That was when I first spied the paw prints in the shallow end of the snow. They were traveling inward and not shaped correctly to be of the feline variety. Beyond the blanket of snow lay holiday packages of cookies and bread that were set to be mailed when the morning was a little older. Two boxes were torn open and a gaze of raccoons were enjoying the holiday treats meant for human consumption. The four had liberated a loaf of sourdough, a pan of cinnamon rolls, and too many cookies to count. I blinked at the furry family feasting on their holiday banquet while warm(er) and cozy in the corner of their new den. The presence of the cats were not enough to deter them, and the scene was too foreign for either feline to formulate a plan of defense. The smaller cat looked up at me as if to say, “we’re outnumbered.”

From the doorway, I couldn’t reach my boots, but my fingers could just graze the handle of an umbrella. I reached lower to grasp the canopy. No sooner did my fingers close around the fabric, the entire umbrella fell open. While I intended to open it to scare the animals, I wanted to be in control of the surprise. The four critters stopped chewing long enough to take notice of me and the cats, but they agreed with our smaller cat’s assessment: despite me towering over them and the possible weapon in my hand, there were still more of them.

The Old Man Pup woofed again, this time with some urgency. The raccoons silently conferred, reassessing their options. It seemed that two cats and an armed giant in the doorway were fine, but the woofing of a mysterious fourth threat was deemed too much. They stuffed as much of my kitchen labor into their mouths and waddled one by one in a straight line to the door.

The final and smallest of the raccoons stopped half way and came up on its hind legs, looking back at the treats. A raccoon that had already left stuck its head back in to urge the last one on, finally turning and leaving in disgust that its friend wasn’t listening. The interloper spun around and grabbed the remnants of the sourdough loaf. It made a break for it on its hind legs, slipping and sliding over the slick tile, and at one point running in place like a cartoon, never letting go of the bread. I pulled the umbrella closed, flipped the tip to face me, and used the hook of the handle to guide the cartoon wannabe out.

Both cats crept into the mudroom and stretched their necks to sniff where our holiday house guests had been. Still curious, as cats are, they tiptoed toward the open door, only to recoil in horror as their paws touched the snow. “Some help you are,” I said to them. They only returned a wide-eyed look in my direction and sauntered off to warmer parts of the house.

Still barefoot, it was my turn to tiptoe around the frosty fluff. After securing my feet in cold boots, I grabbed the shovel and scraped snow off the tile and out the door. The raccoons didn’t get very far. They stood in a valley of snowdrifts, watching me put the outside back where it belonged. The little one was still on its hind legs, clutching the bread and nibbling on its edge. I turned to look at the destroyed boxes and cookie crumbs, then back at my visitors. I gathered the remaining treats back into an open box and set it outside. “Happy holidays,” I said and shut the door.

I returned to the staircase to help the Old Man Pup down, but he wasn’t on the landing. I climbed back up and found the bedroom door ajar. I stuck my head in and squinted. He was back on his bed, curled up, his chest rising and falling with the deep, even breaths of sleep. I wondered for a moment if the Old Man Pup had heard the raccoons and only got up to investigate.

Though I was now fully awake, I slipped back into bed. My husband stirred and turned, draping an arm over me and mumbling some kind of thanks for taking care of the dog. I wanted to put my half frozen toes on his nice, warm legs, but decided that would ruin the story I’d surely tell to disbelieving folks for years to come.

[arc852]

Feed a Borrower a Cookie

Prompt: Eyes

AU: ???

 The characters in this are actually from another story I’ve been brainstorming and thought I would include for some practice. That and they are just so darn cute. Here are the ages so no one gets confused.

 Cathy: 6

 Ladle: 8

 Toby: 4

 Again, not a lot of focus on eyes but still mentioned a few times. Enjoy!

Cathy shook as the giant pair of blue eyes focused on her. She had been caught out in the open and was now cornered between the human and the tissue box she had been trying to take from. She shouldn’t have even been out here in the first place, she was too young to be borrowing out on her own. But both her parents had come down with a cold and she--along with the rest of her siblings--had wanted to help them out.

 The three of them had snuck out late at night, taking all the necessary cautions they saw their dad take before he ever went out to borrow. Mainly making sure the human was asleep. And he had been asleep, just, no one had thought of the chance of him waking up.

 Now Cathy was trapped, the human’s intense gaze making her legs feel like jelly. The human would catch her now, at any moment. She would be killed, or eaten, just like all the stories she's heard. She noticed the human move closer and she turned her head away, curling in on herself.

 At least Ladle and Toby were okay.

 A warm breeze ruffled her blond locks and she shivered. She looked up, regretting doing so when she saw the human’s face only a few feet away. She shrieked and tried scooting back more, but was blocked by the box of tissues behind her. The blue eyes widened and she was surprised when the face moved away.

 “Ahh! I’m sorry, did I get too close?” The human spoke and Cathy trembled at his loud voice. The voice itself was familiar. She heard it all the time through the walls of the house. And she knew the human was loud, but being this close, it was a whole new kind of loud. The kind that shook her core and pounded against her ears. She felt something wet hit her cheek and came to the slow realization that she was crying.

 “No! No, no, no don’t cry. It’s okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare ya.” He lowered his voice down to a soft whisper, something Cathy was grateful for. Her tears wouldn’t stop, though, still terrified by the human in front of her. The human that seemed to be beginning to panic.

 “Oh gosh, what am I going to do?” He ran a hand through his green hair, something Cathy found quite funny the first time she saw it. She watched through blurry eyes as the human looked around the kitchen, finally his eyes settled on something in the corner. He moved out of her line of sight and Cathy noticed her chance to leave. She stood on shaky knees and started to sneak away.

 “Hey! Wait!” She froze as the human’s voice rang from behind her. She took off running suddenly, towards the entrance they had on the kitchen counter but was forced to stop in her tracks when she remembered that the entrance had been blocked off for several weeks now. A metal rectangular her dad had called a toaster was now in front of the door. Allowing no one to get in or out of it.

 That had been her only chance of escape. Going back the way she came was not an option. The human would catch her before she could even grip the rope properly.

 A shadow fell over her and she froze. She kept her head down, not wanting to see her doom. It was after a few minutes of agonizing silence that Cathy felt something poke her side. She yelped and flew back. Her breathing was fast, but she was confused when she saw what had poke her. Not the human’s hand, but a cookie, almost as big as her.

 She looked at it for a long moment and then looked up at the human’s face. Their eyes met and the human smiled gently. She doesn’t know why, but she felt herself relax a little.

 “Please don’t be scared.” He said. “Are you hungry? How about a cookie? I know these always make me feel better.” Her stomach growled against her will and the cookie was moved closer to her. She hesitated, before reaching out her hands and grabbing the cooking from in between the human’s fingers.

 It was a lot heavier than she thought and she almost dropped it. She adjusted her grip on it and sat down with it on her lap. Glancing again at the human, she broke a small piece off and took a bite. Her eyes widened and she very quickly started scoffing it down. She heard the human laugh from above and she paused to look up at him.

 “I guess you were hungry, huh?” She blushed and nodded. Quickly going back to her cookie. She only lasted a few more bites before she started feeling full. There was still more than half the cookie left, though. She wondered if she would be able to fit some in her pouch to take home for Ladle and Toby to try.

 That is, if she would be going home.

 She set the cookie aside and stood up. The human had been silent the whole time she had been eating. Just watching her with kind and curious eyes. Feeling brave, she wiped away the remaining tears and looked up at him.

 “Are you going to let me go home?” She asked plainly. The human’s eyes widened.

 “Of course!” Cathy couldn’t help but smile.

 “So, you aren’t going to eat me or keep me then?” She asked almost excitedly. The human’s expression turned to one of disgust.

 “No! Why would ya think that?” Cathy shrugged and kicked her feet.

 “All the stories I’ve heard are about humans doing bad things to borrowers.” The human’s eyebrows furrowed and he frowned.

 “Well, I can assure you I’m not one of the types of human’s in your stories.” He gave her a kind smile and Cathy returned it. She felt a lot safer now that she knew the human meant her no harm. His tone and eyes said it all for her. Her mother had taught her how to read people, to make sure they were kind. Most borrowers were, but some were, what they called, takers. It had taken a while for her to read the human, because of his size and her fear but now that she could, she could tell he really was nice!

 That and he had fed her a cookie.

 “In that case, I’m Cathy!” The human seemed surprised by her turnaround, but chuckled.

 “I’m Jack.” She smiled and glanced back at the cookie.

 “Oh! Can I take some of that back? I want to share some with my family.” Jack glanced at the cookie and nodded.

 “Go for it! It’s all yours. Do, uh, do you need help getting back home? Where do you live?” Cathy pointed toward the toaster.

 “I live in the walls, but that toaster thing is blocking one of the entrances.” Jack looked over and reached a hand towards the toaster. It flew above Cathy’s head and she yelped slightly at the sight. She continued to watch the hand as it moved the toaster out of the way with no effort. Looking back toward Jack, he looked confused.

 “I don’t see anything.” Cathy laughed and walked over, pushing the door in a bit. Jack’s eyes went wide.

 “We made it that way so human’s wouldn’t see it.” She looked down. “We aren’t actually supposed to be seen…” She trailed off. She wondered what would happen if anyone found out that Jack had found her. Would they have to move? She didn’t want to move. She got an idea.

 “I know! We just won’t tell anyone!” She smiled to herself at her great idea. Jack chuckled.

 “Secrets safe with me. I don’t want you getting in trouble or anything.” He bit his lip. “Would you mind...coming back?” Cathy tilted her head before her eyes went wide.

 “You mean, like to play?!” She yelled excitedly. There was hardly anyone back home to play with her. She only had her siblings, who she loved, but sometimes they didn’t want to play her types of games. Gaining another playmate would be awesome. Jack grinned.

 “Yeah, exactly!” She nodded rapidly.

 “Tomorrow then?” Jack asked and Cathy nodded. She made to leave but was stopped by another poke to her side. Looking up, she saw Jack holding out a tissue. She gasped and took it.

 “I saw you were trying to get this before I walked in, so here ya go! If you ever need anything else, just ask.” Cathy grinned and nodded.

 “Thank you Jack! See ya tomorrow!” She went through the door, it closing behind her. She smiled as she packed away the tissue paper. Who would have thought she would ever make friends with a human?

 As she got closer to home, she heard footsteps coming from the other end of the passageway. Two figures emerged. Figures she recognized as her siblings.

 “Hey Cathy! Did you get the tissue.” Ladle asked and Cathy nodded up to him, taking out the folded piece of cloth. Ladle nodded.

 “Great! Toby and I managed to get our stuff as well, including the water.” They looked down at Toby, who was carrying a small bucket of water.

 “Now let’s help mom and dad to feel better!” After that, Ladle led the way. Cathy and Toby following close behind. Vaguely, she could hear Jack shuffling around outside and smiled.

[forgetspecifics]

Murphy’s Law: Breaking Murphy’s Law

Rated M

Story summary: Because anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

Mutual pining, mutual sexiness. Attempts at real issues, plot, and humour. Slight AU.

(Complete)

Chapter summary: 5.  Is the cycle broken? Will they do the do? Tune into the...interesting...conclusion of Murphy's Law!

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9450161/chapters/24426717

FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12335981/5/Murphy-s-Law

Chapter 1: Stupid sexy grin™

Chapter 2: With friends like these

Chapter 3: Rainchecks, refunds, and returns

Chapter 4:  ... --- ... ---... / ... - --- .--. / --- ..- .-. / ... . -..-

Available below

ForgetSpecifics Productions Presents:

A TRAINWRECK

Yang returned home to her shared apartment with Ruby in record time.

Though it was obvious to the younger sibling that her older sister may have felt slightly embarrassed upon her entrance due to several reasons, including:

Yang was wearing the same clothes as when she went out last night; 2. Ruby herself had messaged Blake via scroll, and knew she was with Blake, and 3. Weiss had relayed – in a manner that was mostly peeved, but still very much mortified – that she had caught the other half of their team in the middle of foreplay – not to mention Blake flat out lying that they were not doing any such thing before that – and been forcefully coerced into a potential fiscal wedding nightmare while simultaneously having her afternoon slash lunch ruined;

Ruby put on her most nonchalant face.

The best Ruby could achieve though, she knew, was probably between extremely not nonchalant and looking like she needed to pee. Because she was terrible at lying and terrible at letting anything to do with her team slide. Especially when it came to the fact that-

“You’re not gonna say anything, Rubes?” Yang asked suspiciously, having seen through her nonchalant-I-gotta-pee face, right before she noticed Ruby inhaling to her maximum lung capacity no doubt preparing to release an incomprehensible spiel. The (still at ages likely not appropriate anymore) red cloaked cookie inhaler received a well-recognised ‘don’t bother I won’t ever understand you’ stare.

For a couple of seconds, she looked to be contemplating whether or not she could just say everything that was probably queueing up on the tip of her tongue, so Yang turned to leave her to her own devices.

As soon as she did, Ruby was upon her. Well, up on her. She had jumped on her back and was clinging like a sloth would to a branch. That’s what Nora would say, anyway.

Ruby’s weight and strength had certainly grown to the point where she didn’t want her on her back. Damn that giant scythe and damn their alcoholic uncle for ever letting her have it. It created a sugar-fuelled cute as a button Grimm Reaper that was almost choking her around the neck.

The voice in her ear hadn’t matched the appearance of Ruby ever since she first wielded Crescent Rose. “Where are you going?! Tell me everything!” she demanded.

Unluckily, for Ruby, Yang was still stronger. And she’d much rather have a shower before doing as Ruby demanded. Prying off her little sister’s arms was child’s play – she had grown up dealing with this kind of thing – just as peeling the excited ball of energy from her back by the red hood was executed efficiently enough for Yang to be rid of Ruby long enough to dart into the bathroom and lock the door.

She let herself breathe a sigh of pride and relief, noting a loud thump on the floor. She picked up that stupid foot stamp from hanging around with Weiss for so long; it was almost endearing. Almost.

“Yaaaaang!”

-- ..- .-. .--. .... -.-- .----. ... / .-.. .- .—

When Yang finally deemed herself ready as she would ever be to talk about the best sex she had almost ever had, with her little sister that was begging to know – ew, why though, she pondered – she exited her bedroom to come face to face with her assailant from earlier that day.

Weiss.

Yang honestly would have preferred that dickbag from the sidewalk incident. Only a little.

The Ice Queen had her coldest stare directed at Yang, and Ruby, well, she had another face that just looked like she was still yet to pee.

Okay, she’d prefer the dickbag a lot.

“Sit.” Was the only word Weiss decided to grace her with. Not even a hello? Probably still huffed about earlier, Yang supposed.

“Seriously? What is this, an interrogation?” She sat down anyway. Only because she told Blake she’d explain to Ruby what had happened. It was kind of a big deal.

Ruby shook her head manically. “Of course not! We just really wanna know what’s going on with you!” The most unconvincing answer award would always go to Ruby Rose.

Yang could feel her eyes rolling before she had even spoken, because, really, it felt like an interrogation. “Me?”

Icy blue eyes narrowed in annoyance, “Stop it, Yang. Tell us what’s happening with you and Blake! I have no time for your conversational banter!”

Yang blew a raspberry out of the corner of her mouth, disappointed, “To be straight with you, I don’t really see this as a conversation I want to have with my sister.”

Ruby completely missed her partner muttering ‘there’s nothing straight about this situation’, flashing a disgusted look at Yang.

“You can spare me the NSFW stuff, yuck! I mean, you and Blake! Weiss said she’d,” Ruby confusedly looked at her interrogation partner, “uh-”

“I graciously offered to pay for yours and Blake’s honeymoon!” irritated, Weiss finished Ruby’s sentence.

Even though that wasn’t entirely accurate, Yang was more concerned as to why Ruby was bringing it up. “Ah, so?”

She was starting to feel like she’d never let Ruby and Weiss question anybody for any reason if need be. Before Yang could even get any further in figuring out this weird situation, the apartment was filled with a knock from the door. And then a crazy amount of louder whacks.

Her bullet train of a sister left the couch and Weiss showered in rose petals as she opened the door, revealing team JNPR – Nora still trying to bang on the wood – to her confusion.

“Sorry we took so long, I pressed the wrong button on the elevator by accident,” Jaune said sheepishly as he was ushered in by Ruby.

Nora pushed past them both, gleefully shouting, “RWBY AND JNPR UNITE!”

Pyrrha actually addressed Yang as she took a seat next to Weiss, brushing the rose petals away, “Hello again!”

“Sorry about Nora,” Ren cringed as the orange-haired maniac leapt over and landed in an armchair. Ruby darted back and squished herself next to Pyrrha.

Yang was beginning to regret sitting down. Everybody was here, because of Weiss no doubt, to talk about her and Blake, no doubt. Although, to her credit, Weiss certainly had cornered her. Blake was going to be relieved Yang was about to deal with this without her.

Yang took her time glancing at all her closest friends in her living room. “This really is an interrogation, isn’t it?”

Jaune cleared his throat gawkily, obviously taking his role as leader and speaking for the rest of JNPR. “Ruby and Weiss asked us to come over to...discuss what’s going on with you and Blake.”

So far, ‘her and Blake’ kept being brought up. Nobody seemed to elaborate on this. Why did everybody need to be in on this discussion? Why were they all…so calm? She had only ever, and in confidence, told Ruby about how much she liked Blake. Sure, she openly flirted with her in front of them all, but that wasn’t a reason for them to be suspicious nor be included in this discussion.

“And what is going on with us? Everybody keeps saying it and not actually telling me what they think is happening!”

Slowly, her interrogators all collectively looked at each other, nodding once. What the fuck was going on here?

In unison, they all said, “You’re going to ask Blake to marry you!”

What. The. Fuck?

What.

The.

Actually flipping fuck were they talking about?

Yang was almost going to laugh at the absurdity of them saying that, least of all in sync. But then she noticed that they were all…serious.

“Ah, I think there’s been a mistake,” Yang groaned into her hands. This was so weird.

Weiss looked at her accusatorily, “You told me you wanted me to pay for your honeymoon, did you not?”

“I did! I didn’t say that I was marrying her, though,” suddenly she realised why they had all assumed. It kinda sounded like they were going to get married. She also suddenly was very happy Blake wasn’t part of this trainwreck.

“Well, this is awkward.” Ren stated quietly, though that did not retract from its clearness. The most understated statement aware was going to Lie Ren.

“For the love of,” Yang stopped herself short of swearing, since poor JNPR was dragged into this unfairly anyways, “let me explain.

Blake and I went out for drinks last night. Short version, I was teasing her and said something dumb, and she got pissed off and left. I stayed, drank a lot, and then went to her apartment to see if she was awake so I could apologise. I was just a bit drunk, and still the short version, I went up the fire escape and in the window. She was awake, I apologised, she was happy. She made a dirty joke and kissed me, but before we could get to the good part, I kinda,” embarrassedly laughing, Yang continued, “fell asleep on her. But she put me in bed and when we woke up she wanted me to make up for it. So, we were going for it,”

“Ew.” Ruby interrupted.

“Sorry Rubes. Speaking of, Ruby messaged Blake about me since I was supposed to go home, which we soon figured out was because Weiss was waiting for Blake to meet her for lunch and they were conspiratorial and ruined everything. Weiss called, and Blake tried to cover up that she forgot, but she was literally at her apartment being a sneaky little sneak!” Weiss scoffed like she was offended that she was a freaky spy, Yang glaring at her as she tried finished her story, “and so I went out there to literally fight her because I really wanted to-”

“EW!” Ruby covered her ears.

“Yeah yeah. I only let Weiss live because I got her to promise to pay for a honeymoon for me and Blake so we could make up for the interrupted-”

“Yang!”

“But I never said I was going to actually marry Blake!”

JNPR engaged in a silent conversation, through stares only. Pyrrha felt it was best for her to ask, “Forgive me if I’m intruding, Yang, but why were you so upset that Weiss interrupted you?”

Ren added, “It does seem rather…rash. Even for you.”

To say she was amazed that they were questioning her actions would be pretty accurate. Why wouldn’t she be angry? “I had every right to be mad!” she said vehemently. Though it was personal, she’d come this far with her story, they might as well know they’d failed at their attempts at intimacy, “I couldn’t even stay awake the first time, and then I couldn’t even make it up to her,” Yang admitted abashedly.

Everybody, sans Ruby and Weiss – and Jaune – looked stunned.

“What does your first time have anything to do with this time?” Jaune blurted, oblivious.

“First time?” Nora incredulously gasped. “You mean you guys haven’t done it yet?”

Dejectedly, Yang sighed, “Unfortunately, no. We haven’t.”

“REALLY?! Wooooow!” the boisterous hammer-wielding burst into a fit of giggles. To which Yang promptly sent a scathing look, which swiftly ended the mocking, and changed her tone.

Nora chuckled nervously. “This whole time, we thought you had! Next you’re going to tell me you’re not even together-together!”

“Uhhhh, we aren’t?”

Welp, this trainwreck was blowing up in their faces. How had they not known this?

“Oh my GOSH!” It sounded like Nora was dying. For real.

Seriously, how did they not know? Sceptically, Yang turned the questions on JNPR, “I can’t believe you guys assumed all that. Why didn’t you ever ask me? Or Blake? I never noticed any of you mention us in that way!”

“We never did, that’s why!” Jaune laughed like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Nora snorted. “But we did tease Blake about how much she obsessed over you, like, all the time.”

Yang’s jaw involuntarily opened in offense for her partner. “Is that why she wanted to avoiding talking to you guys about us? Guys, what the fuck?!”

A more important question arose in the forefront of her mind, amidst the absolute chaos.

“Ruby, Weiss, you know we aren’t together! Why would you think we’re suddenly getting married?”

Ruby absentmindedly touched her fingertips together nervously, not even convinced with her own answer, “We kinda thought you’d both stopped pretending you weren’t in love and confessed and wanted to be together forever?”

“Obviously we’ve all jumped to conclusions here. I’m sorry, Yang,” acknowledged Pyrrha. Sweet Pyrrha, she could never stay mad at. Although she was quite sure that the teasing that was mentioned was mostly Nora and Weiss’ doing, so probably could forgive Ruby, Jaune and Ren pretty easily.

Yang shrugged, letting her anger go. “Thanks, Pyrr. Although this was frustrating as hell, it’s still not really comparing to being zero for two with Blake.”

“Not that you’d want my advice, but I think if you’re organised enough to figure out a perfect time, you could spare yourselves of any interruptions,” Weiss casually offered, heading into the kitchen.

Why should she listen to Weiss? She made this problem into a huge mess. The free honeymoon was just a start on what she’d have to pay back for it. Yang blew another raspberry and shouted back at her, “Make me a drink, you crazy stalker!”

Ren raised a finger in thought, “If I may?” Yang nodded, since he was likely the most wise of them all, “maybe you would be better off waiting for the right moment to present itself.”

“Like, not think about how badly I want it even after waiting for years, just so the universe will be nice and let me have it?” Yang translated her own interpretation.

Ren smirked his little ninja smirk, nodding.

They all laughed when they heard the unsatisfied cry of Yang Xiao Long.

-- ..- .-. .--. .... -.-- .----. ... / .-.. .- .—

It had been weeks since the impromptu trainwreck chaotic interrogation failure, and, even though Yang had diligently followed Ren’s suggestion, she and Blake were still at two strikes on the scorecard. Zero. Zilch. Nada.

She thought this would have been easy. Easy peas-y, lemon squeeze-y. It was more like difficult difficult, lemon difficult.

While Blake had been very grateful she had avoided being present for it, she wasn’t that grateful. Especially when she was told that Nora laughed about it hysterically, and they all laughed at Yang being punished by some otherworldly force that cringed at the mere idea of a sexual relationship between them. It had only made to greaten her concern that they were doing something wrong.

Never having been a woman of much patience, Yang decided she’d have to bring up some sort of discussion about it sooner or later. Tonight, all the gang would be meeting up once again for drinks and hangs – Ruby’s lame name of course – and she had gone over to Blake’s in the afternoon to just be cutesy and couple-y before it.

And touch her butt.

They were lounging on the couch, Yang staring at reruns of cooking shows while Blake lay on her, reading. Of course she was reading; in that position Yang would never understand how, she shouldn’t be comfortable. But neither of them were complaining.

Maybe because Yang was indeed touching Blake’s butt (the possibility was there).

Yang turned the television off. If the universe wasn’t going to get her laid, she’d do it some other way. “Blake?”

Yellow eyes met purple. “Is it time to get ready?”

“No, I just wanted to tell you something,” the blonde effortlessly used her strength to bring Blake level with her. Mostly because dragging the svelte body over her own was just the kind of something she was thinking about.

She was not afraid to disclose this. “Blake,” she used her most serious tone, “I’ve been waiting for the right time for us to try again. If I have to keep waiting for some sort of miraculous sign, I’m gonna go insane.”

The Faunus gave a coy smile. “I was wondering when you were going to bring this up,” she muttered as her attention was directed back at the novel. Surely a book wasn’t more interesting? No. Yang would not be jealous of some paper and ink.

Almost like she was reading her mind, Blake leant over Yang’s head to deposit her book in a safer place. But Yang was devious, and trapped the form above hers in place.

“Ah, boobs. Such a blessing,” she breathed from the depths of Blake’s covered cleavage.

Blake recalled a time when she had been in Yang’s cleavage, and flatly warned, “Be careful, you might suffocate in there.”

“I’d die almost happy, then,” was the retort. Blake felt hands tugging her back to a less face-suffocating position, to which she obliged. Hands then brought her face closer to tempting lips, to which she obliged again. Because over a short amount of time, she’d really come to enjoy kissing them.

“Come on, do you want me?” Golden eyebrows waggled suggestively, “or do you want to read a lame book?”

Trying her hardest not to react to the overactive eyebrows, Blake jabbed, “You’re lame.” She was only avoiding the question to avoid a potential failure. As time had passed since their last attempt, she had only grown more nervous in spite of her sexual frustration.

But it would be completely rude of her to brush Yang off, she knew, so she asked, “Why are you so eager all of a sudden? Why now?” but was shot look of disbelief, like she had grown a third set of ears.

“Well,” was Yang’s cocky reply, “it’s not ‘all of a sudden’. I think about it a lot.” Blake decided to ignore that when she went further. “And why not now? If not now, when? We can just find a good time, like now, and-”

“This is ridiculous. I’m not planning when we’re going to have sex,” she cut her off, “that’s creepy, Yang.”

“Creepy? Blake, is the word you’re looking for organised?” Yang retorted, more a statement than a question.

“You sound like Weiss,” a pause. “You didn’t ask Weiss?” That was totally more a question than a statement.

The two were now locked in a face off that consisted of trying to look more offended at the other. Yang was sporting more of a caught-red-handed expression, though, as Blake knew that that was exactly what Weiss would have told her.

Still, obviously the brawler was not going to go down without a fight, and was attempting to salvage her ‘well laid plans’ (because that was a fucking awesome pun if anybody asked), “Not that I did-”

“Please, no.” Was the shut-down.

Yang tried again, “Hypothetically-”

“I said no.”

Meeting a hard state from narrowed eyes, she grumpily gave up, feeling more than just lame. “Well, hypothetically, her advice sucked!” Dumping Weiss’ idea seemed to have created a more receptive Blake, and she figured she might as well just find out what the other woman wanted to do. “If you don’t want it planned, how do you want it?”

“Spontaneous.” It sounded like there was no room for argument in the request. Obviously conflicting since demanding spontaneity was way too ironic to bother mentioning.

Yang went the easy route, just going with persistence as her best bet. “How about right now?”

Blake exhaled, knowing she was about to disappoint with her requirements, “But I also want it to feel right,” all their failed attempts had left her more than worried. “As if the planets have aligned, and it was meant to be; romantic crap like that.” She truly didn’t know if she was doing this for their own good or not. It was getting really hard to tell.

She almost thought that her partner had reached her limit on this topic, emerging from a thinking face with the stupidest grin ever. The stupidest stupid grin™.

“I got it!” Yang happily exclaimed, hoisting them both into a sitting position.

Not bothering to clarify on that, too taken in her own genius, Blake eventually had to prompt her. “Got what?” she probed doubtingly. What could Yang have come up with that was that good?

“I know how to know if we should do it right now. ‘Rock, paper, scissors’!” Hands fluttered as if presenting themselves in a flashy dance.

The feline woman swatted the obnoxious appendages away, trying to convince herself it was a bad idea to turn this into a scuffle for such a dumb plan.

“How the hell is ‘rock, paper, scissors’ going to help us?” she all but yelled.

Now bouncing up and down, Yang disregarded her frustrations entirely. “Just do it!”

Adopting a deadpan face, Blake started, “I’m starting to think we should just get married and go on an all-expenses paid trip, thank-you Weiss, to somewhere very secluded,” regaining her composure. “Actually, maybe, I’ll go alone. You can stay here and play ‘rock, paper, scissors’.”

“Babe, I got this!” Yang confidently assured. She wasn’t going to let it go.

“Yang-”

“Blake,” hands gripped her shoulders, “throw down.”

This didn’t even make sense. In any way.

“Rock,” Yang baited, fist balled.

If anybody asked, she would say she was coerced into playing. Because no sane person would comply with something so futile.

“Paper,” Blake joined, half-heartedly.

“Scissors,” they both spoke and chose their weapons in tandem.

Keen eyes assessed the result, and just as was expected, “It’s a draw, Yang. It didn’t help.”

“Nope,” wild hair shook in disagreement, “the universe has spoken. We both chose scissors!” Yang gleefully cried, crudely jamming her own spread fingers to fit with Blake’s, akin to…

Oh.

Oh.

“I can’t decide whether to be impressed or hate you,” she choked out, overcoming initial…shock, slash disappointment.

The other pair of ‘scissors’ went to work ‘snipping’ against her own. “I thought the universe made it clear that you should have very hot, and probably badly executed sex with me.”

…tempting.

Arriving at the one, solitary, viable conclusion that Yang had no way of knowing for sure that she’d have gone with scissors, Blake Belladonna let her have the victory. Because it worked, and, it was so very Yang. But…

“Only if I get to be on top.”

“In your dreams.”

“How did you know I-” Blake spluttered, quickly realising that Yang hadn’t known and that she’d been tricked twice in thirty seconds.

“…dream about it.”

She let loose a rumble of exasperation, opting to stop digging her own grave. “Just kiss me.”

And that’s exactly what she did. Yang’s lips and tongue could work in tandem to take her breath away in such a short amount of time, she was starting to believe that the scheming fiend would have had her screaming in less than the ten minutes she had promised.

“I’ll do it.” The lips spoke.

Dumbfounded, her own let out, “Huh?”

“I’ll do it,” Yang said earnestly, “you said I would have made you scream in less than ten minutes.”

Well, if she had said it out loud without even noticing, then she probably wanted that, right?

“Please,” Blake said, voice laced with want.

Yang chuckled, “You realise we have to go out soon, right? I don’t want to start something we can’t finish. Uh, again, that is.”

She ceased her laughter as her now determined, soon-to-be lover grabbed her shirt and took off towards the bedroom, almost struggling to keep up.

Blake showed off her own sexy grin, “Oh, no. We’re not leaving until I’m finished with you, Xiao Long,” snickering as the other woman tripped over her own feet upon hearing the news.

It was more like a Cheshire cat grin. -- ..- .-. .--. .... -.-- .----. ... / .-.. .- .—

“Sorry we’re late, guys,” a somewhat flushed and hurried Yang announced, as a casual Blake trailed in behind her at a much more relaxed pace.

As they sat in their usual seats among Ruby, Weiss, and team JNPR, the Ice Queen was visibly not impressed with the apology, “You’re an hour late. How on Remnant do you manage that?”

Nora was giggling next to Ren, an almost empty glass of her favourite craft mead in her hands (along with the other empty two on the coffee table), snorted, “You get lost, Yang?”

The blonde barked out a brazen laugh. “Very funny,” she said sarcastically.

“Only a Xiao Long,” though she said one name, Weiss pointedly looked at another – another who just happened to be the other Xiao Long by blood. Whom stuttered a shocked and offended ‘what do you mean?’ in her weak defence.

“Yes, Yang got lost,” Blake cut in. Nefarious innuendos filling her mind – like she could help it after what they’d done – gave her the most brilliant opportunity.

This was her moment. Blake finally had won. Everyone had tortured her about them. Made fun of her sexual desperation. Laughed when Yang fell on top of her in this very seat. Laughed when they had found out they hadn’t had sex once at all over the years when everyone thought they had, let alone had been interrupted trying to. She was going to make them feel her savagery for it all.

They had no idea what was about to befall them.

“Between my legs.”

Drinks were spat out unceremoniously; with an “I’m sorry!” from Pyrrha, for Jaune, jaws dropped, gasps were had – almost violently.

VICTORY!

Blake was treated to the best thing she had ever seen. Second to Yang’s face buried bet-

No! Blake internally stopped herself to instead to voice these brilliant thoughts. This would go down in history as the day she ruined their lives.

“That was the best thing I’ve ever witnessed. Second to Yang’s face buried betw-“

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!!!” Ruby – and even Weiss – squealed loud enough to make all her ears ring, with JNPR all frantically yelling and flailing about like fishes out of water.

She looked at her partner, elated.

“Blake,” Yang whispered in her ear, “marry me.”

Notes:

... yes I am implying Blake sat on Yang's face  ... I hope you enjoyed the ride. Super happy to have finished this off. And for the longest chapter of the whole story. It was a one chapter joke that spiraled out of control, but I'm kinda glad it did.

I opted to omit the dirty stuff we all love, because this truly isn't a well constructed story and I have something much larger planned that I should begin/put effort into. So maybe keep an eye out for that. I might do progress updates here because boy it's hopefully gonna be a big one!

See ya next time, and, thank you to every single reader and those that have left feedback. 'preciate ya. <3

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 26)

Weiss had a dream.

The sun was shining; Ruby's room was messier, largely because Weiss' belongings had joined the piles of stuff scattered all around; and her mother was gently shaking her awake.

She was older—much older; even more wrinkles on her face, her platinum blonde hair looking more grey than white, but she looked happy. “Time to get up, my littler snowbunny!” she hummed. “There aren't any servants to do everything for you out here, you know!”

Weiss got up, playfully glared at her, and climbed out of her hammock, moving through her dream in that foggy way where details were sparse, time was flexible, and she suddenly found herself seated at the kitchen table.

It was crowded, every single chair taken by Ruby, Qrow, Blake, Winter, and others she didn't recognize, Fae and human. Penny was standing to the side, busy feeding Zwei using a “backpack” that looked like a giant toaster complete with spring mechanism to fire the bread straight into both his waiting jaws.

Everyone was happy to see her, greeting her warmly like she was an old friend or a member of the family. Ruby pushed a plate of milk and cookies to her—one that had already been set out and just waiting for her.

She smiled, thanked her, and reached out for one of them.

“Weiss, what in the world are you doing?” her father asked.

Everything changed.

She was back in the dining hall of Manor Schnee, seated one chair away from her father, Winter and her mother's seats empty, as they had been for years. At his perennial place at the head of the table, her father looked at her disdainfully as he cut into the meat of his dinner.

Roast beef. Not venison or the head of anything, thankfully.

Weiss looked down. No more cookies and milk. A familiar set of priceless china that could only be handled by the servants or one of the drones, worst comes to worst. Food sourced from all over Avalon, kept at their absolute freshest by magitechnology, prepared by the skillful hands of a chef who worked with anyone who paid for her to always make the best, strive to innovate, and challenge herself.

The cold, cavernous hall of carved stone. The army of faceless servants and maids all around her. The ceiling looming far above her head and the monolithic walls that stood silently all around her, reminding her of just how little she was, just how trapped she was in this gilded cage.

Weiss began to cry.

“Weiss…?” Ruby whispered. “Weiss…? You alright?” She paused. “Okay! Stupid question, you're definitely not alright...”

Weiss blinked, her eyes blurry and stinging from tears, the Eluna plushie being strangled in her arms. “Ruby…?” she blubbered as she turned in her hammock and looked up at her.

The room was dark, but her eyes glowed; not the infamous blood red of her mask, but a calming silver.

“Sorry,” she whispered, “I just came back from night shift, and it looked like you were having a really bad dream, so...”

Ruby trailed off, the ensuing silence filled with Weiss sniffling and hiccuping.

“… What is it you do when you're feeling sad?”

Weiss took a deep, calming breath. “Winter used to sleep with me in her bed,” she muttered. “Sometimes we'd have her plushies out as 'guards.''”

“Want to do that?” Ruby asked. “Definitely won't be able to do it in your hammock, since it's only really just made for one—or two who don't mind sleeping REALLY close to each other.”

Weiss debated it for a moment. “Help me out, please?” she mumbled.

Ruby did.

Weiss stomach started stirring all over again, both residents upset at her doing absolutely anything except lie down on her side, but they settled down after she got comfortable in Ruby's little nest of pillows and blankets—or was it a den, since she was a reindeer Fae?

She decided it wasn't more important than sleep and curled up on her side, buried her face in one of Ruby's pillows. Everything smelled of her—earth, mud, numerous traces of wild animals and Zwei especially, chocolate chip cookies—but they were warm, and luxuriously soft.

“Anything else?” Ruby asked as she laid down next to her.

Weiss paused for a moment, before she muttered, “She used to hold me until I fell asleep...”

“Like this…?” Ruby asked as she wrapped her arms around Weiss' chest.

She had a very strong, firm grip. Stronger than she would expect someone of her size to be. But then again, she wasn't human, and she was capable of wiping the floor with four soldiers twice her size and several times her weight.

“… Y-Yeah, like that...” she murmured after a long pause—longer than it should have been.

She felt something gently poke into the back of her head.

“Woops! Sorry, about that,” Ruby whispered, shifting about behind her.

Now her head was level with hers, her warm breath on the back of Weiss' neck, her horns angled outwards and above their heads.

“Better?”

Weiss felt her cheeks begin to heat up as she gently tilted her head back. No poking, no rubbing up against anything hard and smooth, just her hair rubbing up against Ruby's face.

She sniffed a few times and let out a low, pleased hum.

Weiss quickly tilted her head back. “What was that all about…?”

“Your hair smells really nice,” Ruby replied.

Weiss face started to feel like it was burning. “… Oh.”

Ruby yawned and nuzzled up to her again. “Goodnight again, Weiss...” she muttered.

Weiss gently curled up against her. She felt different from Winter. Height, species, and scent aside, Ruby was a lot harder, her body's muscles tensing and relaxing even in her sleep, so densely packed and tightly woven together she could feel them moving.

She didn't mind, though.

It wasn't bad...

… Just… different.

“Goodnight, Ruby,” Weiss whispered back.

She got a quiet snore in response.

Weiss smiled, and closed her eyes, drifting back to sleep.

Qrow rapped his knuckles twice on the door, before he threw it open and strode on in. “Alright, Princess! It's been more than eight hours, and you've got plenty of shit to do today, that's enou--”

Ruby shot up in an instant, her ears perked and alert, turning every which way for signs of danger.

Weiss groaned and slowly picked her head up from Ruby's nest. (Or den—whatever.) She cringed and squinted as the bright morning sun hit her eyes. “Ugh...” she muttered, “what time is it…?”

“Time for me to get the fuck out of here!” Qrow said as he hastily backpedaled right back out.

Thunk. The door to Ruby's bedroom was closed once more.

“What was that all about…?” Weiss asked, idly rubbing at the side of her face she'd been sleeping on. She stopped. “Ruby… why is my face all sticky…?”

“Oh! That's probably just my drool; don't worry, it washes right off!”

Weiss slowly turned to her.

“Did I mention I drool when I sleep...?” Ruby asked.

Weiss stared.

“I... probably should have mentioned I drool in my sleep...”

Weiss' face slowly fell in ever growing horror. “Where was the bathroom again…?” she whispered.

“Through the kitchen,” Ruby replied sheepishly

Weiss had rarely ever moved so fast as she did that morning, slowing down only to safely nestle the Eluna plushie into her hammock before she rushed out the door, leaving it swinging in her wake.

Qrow and Penny were cooking the boar they hauled in last night, the flames of the oven roaring as they both tended to boiling pots filled with bones and meat being turned into stocks or stew, several hunks being roasted over an open flame, strips of meat being smoked above those, and three separate pans frying and sizzling all at once—not to mention guarded them all from Zwei, who had one head sticking in through a window from outside, and the other chewing on a large amount of bones wrapped inside a raw hide. Blake was sitting at the table, using her comm-crystal to read a magical copy of a book in Nivian and its unofficial Actaeon translation side-by-side, a language learning guide running below it.

All four of them looked up and watched Weiss zoom past them and straight into the bathroom, where she proceeded to lock herself in. The faint sound of constantly running water and vigorous scrubbing began to come from inside.

Ruby waltzed in soon after. <Morning everyone!> she said as she grabbed a plate and headed over to the giant cookie jar.

Zwei barked, Blake nodded, Penny waved with her tail before she lifted the lid of a pot with it, and Qrow saluted with the hand holding his morning beer before he took a sip.

<Is Weiss okay?> Ruby asked as she climbed up the ladder. <She seemed in a real rush just now,> she continued as she lifted the lid and started putting cookies on her plate.

<You tell me!> Qrow replied as he flipped over several cuts of frying meat. <You were the one that was with her most of the night, I just walked in on the both of you.>

Ruby looked at him and blinked. <Wait, what…?>

<Qrow was using a Nivian slang term in Actaeon: 'Walking in on (someone)',> Penny explained. <It refers to unintentionally being witness to and/or interrupting an intimate moment you are not involved in, usually that of sexual intercourse.>

Blake cringed, her ears pulling back, Ruby dropped her plate into the jar.

<Wait, what?!> Ruby cried, her face burning red. <We just slept together!>

<I noticed,> Qrow said before he took another sip of his beer.

Ruby balked. <No, just sleeping sleeping! She was--!>

Everyone stopped as Weiss stepped out, repeatedly pressing a towel to her face. “You're running low on soap...” she muttered as she slowly walked to a free chair beside the wall, sat down at the table, and proceeded to hang her head, the hand holding her towel hiding her face.

Everyone, including Zwei, turned to look at her, then at Ruby.

She shot them all disgusted looks, turning around to fish her plate and her cookies out of the jar, and also hide her reddened face.

Penny turned to Weiss. “Noted! I'll refill it before we leave for our trip to the hot springs, then the Trader's Guild.”

Weiss nodded. “So that's where I get a job?”

“All the shitty ones, at least,” Qrow replied as he took two of the pans off the stove, started plating freshly cooked meat. “Don't worry, though: every one goes through the Job Gauntlet at least once in their life; just be glad it'll be shorter for you.”

“As you are not literate in Actaeon and require a translator for even the most basic written or spoken communication, have no skills or education of note or that which would prove useful to Fae society at large, and your status as an outsider barring you from any careers of a religious nature, your choices are greatly limited to that of manual labour, apprenticeships with some types of Makers, or basic training with the Watchers,” Penny explained as she brought the plates over to Weiss and Blake. “Though, the third also requires that you pass a test to ensure that you are at least capable of independently surviving outside of the walls for a reasonable length of time.”

“It doesn't do anyone any favours if the wildlife gets a taste for humanoid beings as an 'every other day' food,” Qrow muttered. “Except Soul Eaters, but those are Soul Eaters.”

Weiss put down her towel. “What's a Soul Eater…?”

“A giant, walking collection of claws, teeth, and hate you pray you'll never meet,” Qrow replied. “For now, let's just say they're one of the biggest reasons we're so strict on ethics here in the Valley...”

Weiss decided to not to ask any further. She picked up what looked like strips of bacon with her hands—Fae weren't big on utensils, outside of cooking—and took a bite out of it. Her eyes widened as all the fat inside out burst onto her tongue, greasy as all get-out and even more flavourful.

“Wow! These are REALLY good!” Weiss said as she chewed, before she stopped and mopped up the grease dribbling down her lips with her towel.

“Enjoy it while it lasts!” Qrow said as he lowered the fires, set the pots to a simmer, the roasts to a slower rotation, and the jerky to dry more slowly. “Me, Blake, and Zwei here NEED meat to survive, so no griping when we get the lion's share,” he said as he held up a spit that held several kilos worth of freshly cooked pork to Zwei.

Zwei ate it in one bite, metal and all, before he spat out the now empty and slobber-coated metal straight into the sink with no ill-effects.

Weiss chuckled. “Believe me, there's nothing more I want than to stop being a load on all of you.”

<Good,> Blake said, smiling at her before she attacked her food like an actual animal, holding it up with her hands, tearing hunks of meat out with her teeth, and purring happily as she chewed.

They finished up breakfast, and everyone but Qrow and Zwei headed back to the Tube station to head to the hot springs, carrying changes of clothes, some of Weiss' care package, and Penny's water filtration “backpack” between them. The sun was shining, the birds and the frogs were singing, the temperature in the swamp was comfortably warm, and the rest of the Bastion not too hot so long as you didn't stay outside of the shade for more than an hour.

It was a beautiful start to Weiss' day, before it all went downhill once more.

[1upmushrooms]

The First Rebel Chapter 2 (1up Deadfic)

Chapter 2: Traveling into a new age.

The warehouse, I thought Wario hated that place. He said it was too old and dusty for him. That's why he moved into the abandoned clubhouse in central part of the city, at least I think that's why he moved. Anyway, from looking on the gas meter, the car's almost empty. We'll never be able to get there tonight without running out, plus I'm too tired to give a shit about anything right now so we out to sleep in a hotel for the night.

The Rebel patted on Wario's shoulder as he said, "Pull over". Wario turned to a parking area and stopped on a dime.

"What?"

"We should stay at a hotel tonight,"

"Why?"

"We're almost out of gas; we'll never make it there before we completely run out. Besides it's a long drive to the next gas station if we go now, I say we stay here."

"Ok, but I still don't see why we can't just refill and get out of-"

"BECAUSE I'M TIRED AND I WANT TO SLEEP IN A REAL BED, JESUS CHRIST!"

Wario flinched and drove to nearest hotel as fast he could. "Don Pianta's Casino and Hotel", a huge giant building that took up most of the left side of the street was a good choice. It looked really nice with its heavy use of neon, and had unique structure, the fact that it was next to a gas station certainly helped. After parking the car Wario got out and entered the hotel lobby, leaving the Rebel to sleep. He tried closing his eyes in order to descend into another world but that was ruined by the tapping on the window.

After Wario opened the back doors and got out the extra clothes, he threw a pair at the Rebel in order to make it even. After a couple of minutes walking on stairs, they were finally at their room as they ditched they're prison uniforms and lay on the beds. Wario turned on the TV as he fixed his pillow a bit and relaxed. He turned a couple channels until he stopped at a channel which showed low budgeted action movies. The sound of people shooting each other was amusing for a while especially since the actors were terrible but eventually the Rebel gave up and turned the channel. Wario wanted to object but he was tuned out by the Rebel's snores.

With a grunt that accepted defeat, Wario slept, probably dreaming of a decapitation scene. When the morning came, he was the first to wake up. Sleeping in that bed really did wonders for him, his back was better since it no longer rested on solid ground and he felt better too. After making his bed as best as he could, Wario turned on the TV and, after seeing that nothing good was on changed it to the news channel,

"Be on the lookout for two escaped nutcases who just last night, had entered the central part of the city. They are known to be very conniving, very dangerous and more insane than a retarded mammal. Here is what they look like."

Then, pictures of him and the Rebel came up as the Newscaster explained in more detail.

"Oh for the love of-"

The TV was turned off in less than a second as he shoved the Rebel out of the bed.

"Come on, we got to get out of here."

"Why, did you screw something up?" He said with a smirk,

"No, the news warned the public about us."

That woke him up.

"What?!"

"Just saw it a couple minutes ago; the whole city knows we're criminals now."

"Well don't panic yet, just 'cause they know we're here doesn't mean-"

"They showed our pictures on the news as well."

"Ugh! Well what do we do?"

Wario simply pondered, trying to get his brain to work for once, finally an idea formed.

"Barely anyone watches the news anymore; the true way news is spread here is by gossip. That means we have some time to get out of here before the authorities hunts for us. Let's just get out of here silently and quickly!"

"Gotcha,"

The Rebel then began making a rather complicated plan when Wario grew annoyed of this and threw a chair at the window, following a expression from the Rebel that screamed What the hell?!

"You weren't fast enough."

After collecting everything, the duo got out of their rooms by climbing down a bed sheet tied into a knot. In a mere second or two, they got in the car and drove to the gas station. There was no messing around as they had a time limit, the scariest part being that they didn't know when it ended. As soon as they payed for the gas, they sighed in relief as they fled east.

Well, we're off to the ware house, where Wario's wife Mona and their son are going to be. Wario said she fixed up the place. All I really know right now however, are two things. One, we're going to be far away from the central part of the city, which in a way is good, because that's where all the cops are. However, the second thing I know is that I got to be very careful around Wario's wife, Mona. Anything can set her off, clothes, attitudes, food, certain kinds of alcohol, anything.

During the drive, a question suddenly appeared in the Rebel's subconscious.

"Who's all gonna be there?"

"Just Mona and the kid."

Pure surprise crowded the Rebel's face.

"You mean, you and her-"

"Heh, heh, does that shock you?"

"No, I just thought you weren't interested in-"

"He's an accident."

A minute long pause surrounded the car as the Rebel muttered,

"Well, obviously."

And boom, the car stopped at a very run down place in a very run down town named "Petals-Burg". It was obvious the warehouse hadn't been used in years. The Rebel got out of the car and just stood there waiting for Wario to make his move. Walking up to the warehouse, Wario simply knocked. As the door slowly opened, Mona became more apparent. Her red hair didn't exactly mix with her black suit well but if you told her that she'd just say I never wanted it match anyway.

"Well," She said with a certain look of disgust, "You're out."

"Yep."

"That's all you're going to say?!"

"Well, what do you want, a cookie? Let us in already."

"Oh I see! You impregnate me, belittle me, push me around, abandon me and the kid for a long time even before you get arrested, and after all that you expect me to welcome you with open arms and just let you enter?!"

"Well I do own the damn place."

"Creep!" Mona said with disgust,

Wario approached her still either with great courage or great stupidity. After a minute or so, they both smirked at each other and an aggressive but passionate kiss followed suit. As their lips let go, Wario said,

"Let's go," and walked right through the doors.

The Rebel got the supplies out of the car and walked through, stopping to greet Mona, but only moving faster when she hissed at him. The main centre of the warehouse was actually quite huge, if it wasn't for a couple of rusted cars still around and the fact that many of the so called "rooms" they'd be staying in were mainly for storage; this would've made for a decent home.

He stopped at one office that he quite liked, it was average, had a decent sleeping area, a desk, two cabinets, a place to his supplies and a little TV on the desk. What wasn't to like? After his stuff jumped to the floor, the Rebel sat at the desk and turned the TV on. Since the TV had no remote, he had to press the little odd buttons to get around. There were thousands of shows on, but the Rebel just put it on the news.

"And now for today's special announcement from one of the king's noble knights Koopa," The Newscaster said in a monotone voice,

Royal knight? But Koopa's an advisor isn't he?

The TV cut to a very busy public area in the middle of the town square. The King was there, sitting on a rather expensive looking chair while sporting a I really wish I could just out of here expression on his face. His red hair looked quite faded though that could have been because of the TV.

It didn't matter anyway as Koopa was the important one here, he was on the podium, waving people, wearing an obvious plastered on smile, and waiting to begin his speach. His hair was as usual tidy and clean, with that little taint of blonde color to it while his eyes were looking at everything, probably looking for the reporters. After a couple of seconds, Koopa raised his hands as the audience finally quieted down.

"Ladies and gentlemen, first I'd like to say thanks for coming here, in order to save time I'll get right to the point. For a while now, there have been certain rumors of a secret weapon we've supposedly worked on for the past 3 decades. It was said that this so called weapon was designed to mutate it's victims into thin air, that it was mobile and that it would have the power to annihilate this entire city. Well, I say this is clear proof that you don't trust the fucking tabloids."

A small laugh emerged as Koopa continued,

"However, I'm here to put these rumors in their place and tell you the truth. Yes, we've been working on a secret project. However it's best not think of it as a weapon but more as a step into the new age."

Much to the crowd's confusion Koopa pressed on, clearly getting into his speech.

"Many of you've heard of evolution right? Constantly changing, upgrading or downgrading-heh-during the ages of time. Well, what if I said we've found a way to somehow figure out the physics of evolution and have created a machine to perform the notion itself?"

Everyone started getting interested as Koopa continued onward.

"Imagine, sitting on a comfortable seat, thinking normal thoughts when a bright light comes at you. It takes 4 minutes but it feels like 10 seconds. Then, after you wake up you feel like a new person. What do you mean you say? Well just think of the possibilities! Clearer vision, better strength, stronger skin, there's no end to the many things that'll evolve!"

A reporter said, "Like?"

"Well think about it! Vaccines will no longer be needed! Minor injuries will heal in seconds! We may be able to lift many heavy objects we couldn't before because of our strength!"

The crowd was now hooked as Koopa who hadn't lost a breath said,

"Any other questions?"

One arm shot up, "Koopa, when we be able to experience this amazing piece of technology?"

"Well you see we're still working on some bugs. During several tests we've found that the machine would only evolve minor things like a sense of vocabulary, eye sight, but not the entire specimen. Exactly what the machine would evolve is a mystery as well since out of all the test subjects we used, not one subjects had the same results. So after we've fixed these problems we'll reveal it to the public and history will be made."

Another arm shot up,

"Yes."

"Sir, you've said this machine could evolve subjects. But, have you ever thought of including a function that could de-evolve a subject?"

Koopa hesitated but after gave him a nod of approval he pressed onward.

"Um, Yes, we've toyed with the idea before. Also might as well get this out of the way too, we also decided to transform this ability into a gun. These will be used by the cops as a means to quickly dispose of criminals. However as you've probably guessed there are some complications. The fact that we've spent almost 30 years on building this machine proves how difficult a project of this magnitude is. Plus, cop guns have been stolen many times. We can't risk the idea of these guns being stolen too. One more question."

An arm shot up, "Sir, have you ever thought that maybe this could backfire on our race? Like if we used this technology, nature will come and make us regret it some day?"

"That thought has come up once in a while. But Simon, the creator of the machine has done some calculations and has proven this concern is very unlikely to happen due to how perfectly built the machine will be when it's finished. Now then, I'd like to thank you all for coming again and have a good day."

The Rebel turned the TV off and sat in the desk.

A machine that can de-evolve anything huh? Interesting.

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AU: Ohhhh dear. This chapter.  First of all, the little things. Like a plot hole that occurs one line down from each other (The Rebel is shocked to find out Wario has a son...even though he just had an inner monologue discussing about Mona and the kid seconds before), or the fact that small TVs exist in the 70′s (admittedly, this is supposed to be a parallel universe but still), and of course more grammar and spelling mistakes!

Now, onto the biggest flaw. This right here is what I meant about bad characterization. In this story, Wario’s wife is a version of the Warioware character Mona....a very loosely based interpretation......an interpretation that is treated like garbage by her spouse....an interpretation that is belittled by her spouse, treated like a joke by said spouse, and is immediately rendered harmless when her spouse kisses her in a Blues Brothers esque moment....an interpretation that will later be shown to be a clueless reckless jerk that’s often called out by the men who are arguably even worse when it comes to being reckless.

I severely regret writing her this way, hell I even regretted writing her like that back when I was still revamping the story (This is the revamp....and I arguably made it worse).

The only way I could justify this is by pointing out that not only is Mona herself a dick (I know, just hear me out), but everyone treats each other like garbage. It’s a shitty world run by shitty people. But even that explanation isn’t pitch perfect.

So yeah, that aspect drags this chapter (and arguably, the whole story) down a lot. If I try to revamp this story once more, Mona will be the first thing to get heavily rewritten.

However,  Next chapter will bring along new developments and a new character that I feel was much better written and not nearly as cringey. Hope to see you there.