#how she wakes up hella early to brush her teeth

[quiveringdeer]

No but fr, we've never seen Porco with his hair not slicked back and it's driving me nuts! 😶

frfr like lemme see him lookin soft and maybe even a bit frumpy, in his book, give it to me!!!

I forget who, cause obviously my memory sucks balls, but someone in fandom has drawn PoPo with his hair down. Can someone tag them for them to add?

[taziidcvil]

Guard Dogs? If you are able to (I know you’ve said you have kinda fallen out of interest with RWBY). Otherwise, the gays from Sk8? Renga I think it’s called. I don’t go there but they look cute!

Send me a ship~

I'll be a thot and do both<3 thank you ;u;

Under a readmore because answering two will get hella long

GUARD DOGS

who hogs the duvet

Marrow cannot stay still and tangles in the blankets. Wakes up as a comfortable warm burrito while Jaune freezes

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

Both are good at checking in but Marrow’s a little excessive 

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

Growing up in such a large family Jaune is more used to having to get creative and overly thoughtful. There’s only so many socks someone can receive on one birthday

who gets up first in the morning

Jaune’s been around loud early risers all his life. He doesn’t know what a sleep in feels like.

who suggests new things in bed

Marrow is bolder about bringing it up

who cries at movies

Both of them

who gives unprompted massages

Jaune loves how fast Marrow melts with a good back and shoulder rub

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

Jaune is more practical and experienced in taking care of people when they’re sick, and his semblance can lend a massive hand. But Marrow’s more over the top and terrible at it, but he tries his best!

who gets jealous easiest

Marrow. Half the time Jaune doesn’t even realise when someone’s flirting with Marrow.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music

Both of them have a questionably poppy taste in music, but only one of them gets embarrassed over it. And it’s Jaune.

who collects something unusual

After spending so much time travelling, Jaune knows to pack light and doesn’t really collect anything unnecessary. Marrow likes bobbleheads and cool rocks he finds on missions.

who takes the longest to get ready

Jaune’s outfit takes longer to put on. And don’t even get him started on the hair.

who is the most tidy and organised

Marrow. Between Nora and his sisters, Jaune has given up on keeping a system to anything.

who gets most excited about the holidays

They’re both absolute dorks about it

who is the big spoon/little spoon

Marrow likes to be held

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

Marrow by a long shot. Jaune just likes to make sure Marrow’s having fun. Marrow, on the other hand, is a shittalker.

who starts the most arguments

Jaune can get frustrated over the smallest things

who suggests that they buy a pet

It’s a group effort. Marrow gets sad about strays and Jaune offers.

what couple traditions they have

One cannot have a cup of coffee without making one for the other too. Their days always start with turning off the coffee pot.

what tv shows they watch together

They both like contest romance shows, like the bachelor. Neither of them can ever agree who will win. Spoilers; they’re both wrong.

what other couple they hang out with

Nora usually drags them both into double dates with Ren, but she spends most of the dates grilling the two while Ren gets some much needed rest.

how they spend time together as a couple

They’re both very touch affectionate and can and will spend many hours napping together on the couch. Marrow also likes to sit and watch Jaune cook, and volunteers as the taste tester even when Jaune doesn’t ask.

who made the first move

Marrow made many moves before Jaune ever managed to take a hint

who brings flowers home

Marrow. Growing up in the colder areas of Atlas, he’s not used to fresh flowers. He gets very excited when he finds more interesting ones, and Jaune prunes them and sets them in a vase for him.

who is the best cook

Jaune. Marrow’s better at eating it.

First, thank you for sending anything for sk8 ;u;

Second, thank GOD you explained past ‘the gays’ because that’s,,,, that’s just the entire cast XD

RENGA

who hogs the duvet

Reki gets colder easier. Langa doesn’t mind.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

Langa usually sends Reki pictures of things he finds interesting or his random thoughts. Reki finds it endearing. 

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

Reki by a long shot. Langa forgets birthdays and anniversaries pretty easily.

who gets up first in the morning

Morning? These boys keep staying up until the early hours of the morning skateboarding, you’re lucky to see them before noon without an alarm to do the job for them.

who suggests new things in bed

Langa discovers new things and asks Reki without the slightest hint of warning.

who cries at movies

Reki. Langa is usually lost and has no idea what’s going on.

who gives unprompted massages

Reki is very considerate with these things. Langa’s learning to be too.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

Reki’s used to taking care of his little sisters. Langa doesn’t really know what to do and just kind of mopes around until he gets better.

who gets jealous easiest

Reki’s started off incredibly bad about it, but he’s steadily getting better. Langa doesn’t have a jealous bone in his body.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music

Langa has no concept of shame. Reki, on the other hand, is incredibly self-conscious over it

who collects something unusual

Langa collects broken pieces of skateboards and Reki constructs them into weird amalgamations of skate art. Langa thinks it’s amazing.

who takes the longest to get ready

Langa rolls out of bed and claims he’s ready. Reki has to push him and remind him to at least brush his teeth.

who is the most tidy and organised

Mama Langa taught her son that much at least!

who gets most excited about the holidays

Reki gets pumped over holidays. Langa gets excited because Reki’s excited.

who is the big spoon/little spoon

They’re both disasters of tangled limbs and laying over the top of each other, but Langa holds onto Reki more. And Reki loves to be the little spoon.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

Reki used to get ugly competitive where as Langa enjoyed the competitiveness in a friendly way. Reki’s gotten much better since, and both can balance competitiveness and fun.

who starts the most arguments

Langa doesn’t know how to argue. He just looks sad until Reki gives in.

who suggests that they buy a pet

Langa wants anything and everything as a pet. Reki has to remind him not anything and everything should be a pet.

what couple traditions they have

what their little handshake greet doesn’t count? Because that is ABSOLUTELY their tradition.

what tv shows they watch together

Both enjoy extreme sports shows, especially skating. Reki also enjoys DIY and pawn shop shows. 

what other couple they hang out with

Much to Reki’s annoyance, Adam has a nasty habit of dropping in with Tadashi in tow. They are their constant uninvited guests.

how they spend time together as a couple

s-skating. lots and lots of skating.

who made the first move

It sort of happened naturally. Just a closeness between them that evolved overtime before Reki realised they kind of sort of were dating all along.

who brings flowers home

Neither of them are really interested in flowers. And yet somehow Langa always ends up with bouquets from Adam and doesn’t know what to do with them. Reki usually palms them off to his mother.

who is the best cook

Reki has cooked for his sisters many times before and had to help his mother in the kitchen. Langa has never used an oven in his life.

[superspookywombat]

falling {j.h} chapter ten

Warnings: very descriptive injury, I don’t want to specify because of spoilers, so if you’d like to know more details then you can message me :)

Taglist:  @Sleepy-whore @geekysimmerthings @mauvette268 @treestarrrrrrrr @kaleigh404 @krazykatkay456 @meganlikesfandoms @darknacademia @hi-my-name-is-riley @vdtwsupernatural @selmeuuh @raindancer2004 @wondersandtempests @royale-trash-slytherin @im-hella-bright @bootylimpics @livfg @It-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @peacemusicinch @coffeeslut16 @bvbwestfall @Actuallyedythecullen @stan-joonies @Peacebuglove @Millie-753 @Frozenhuntress67 @i-tried21 @seaevans @femflorals @arseofrivia @trashysara @vulgarfuckinvirgo @sleepysnapesnake @hey-bulldogs @mental-breaker-74 @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @duty-isnt-always-honour @jelly-fishy-babie @carnagefuck @clubpengiunn @wondersandtempests @100-percent-loving @fandomsandmore394 @pomiotszatana @cherrybuck @alohorcruxes @harryskillerqueen @left-in-the-woods @galaxypox @what-if-im-the-bad-guy @daughterofanarchy997 @camillapad @babieboth @thequeerishere555 @your-average-wallflower @anxiety-station @xo-sophiemae-xo @rachthestressedbandobsessed @amordesiempre01 @avalon68 @imaginebeinlovedbyme @vampiregirl1797 @scuzmunkie @maelleoute @popwhitlockanddrop @aliinova

A/N: okay so while writing this my heart was beating so fast. there were parts where I literally had to step away from my computer and take a breather. anyway, hope you enjoy!

“Oh, wow.” You say as you inspect the ring in the tiny box that Bella holds in front of you. Moonlight reflects off the tiny diamonds on the clunky jewelry, and you mentally grimace at how uncomfortable it has to be to wear.

“You don’t like it.” Bella sighs. You quickly shake your head no, then take the ring and rotate it around in your fingers to appear more interested. 

“No! No, I think it’s beautiful, it has so much.. Character.” You say, plastering on an even bigger smile than before. “I’m just thinking that it’s gonna be hard to hide from Charlie; that’s all.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m planning on telling him soon.” She says. You glance at Edward, who’s leaning against the wall of the house, blanketed by the darkness of the night. He watches you and Bella carefully, as if she’s going to disappear any second. “So, um, I’m going camping this weekend with Edward’s family.” 

“Oh, I thought we we’re going to go up to Seattle this weekend..” You say, your smile deflating. 

“I know I said I could, but I forgot I already made plans with Edward. Sorry.” Bella frowns, slipping the ring back into the box. You nod, staring down at your shoes.

“Your whole family is going?” You ask, glancing up at Edward. If you couldn’t hang out with Bella, maybe Jasper was free.

“Yes, Carlisle likes to take us camping whenever the weather is nice.” He answers, his face blank. You mutter a soft ‘oh’, then return your gaze to your feet. 

“We should probably get going, Bella. Before Charlie wakes up and realizes that we’re not there.” You say. She looks taken aback by your sudden want to leave, but she stands up nonetheless. Edward goes inside to retrieve his keys, while you and Bella walk down the path to his Volvo. You lean against the SUV and stare at the stars while Bella fiddles with her sweatshirt zipper.

“Look, I’m sorry for ditching you this weekend, but I need you to trust me.” She says, her tone serious. Your eyebrows furrow, and you glance at her to see her foot nervously tapping against the pine needle-littered path. 

“What aren’t you telling me, Bella?” You ask, your heart suddenly picking up it’s pace. She tucks her hair behind her ear and glances at the house, where Edward is closing the front door behind him.

“I- I can’t tell you. But I need you to trust me and stay with Charlie. And do not leave the house.” She says.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” Your voice quivers as you ask. Edward stops in front of the car, unlocking it. Bella looks at him and bites her lip, then she looks back at you. 

“Just trust me, okay?” She asks, then gets in the car, shutting the door and ending the conversation. Your blood freezes as you get anxious. What is Bella getting herself into? 

----------

Before Bella left, she took her sleeping bag and the tent from the attic that hadn’t been used in a long while. A pit hung in the bottom of your stomach as she climbed into Edward’s car, but she assured you before she got in that everything was okay and that there was nothing to be worried about. Her apology didn’t ease your nausea however, nor the anxious thoughts that ran through your head. Currently, you sat on the couch, the morning after she left, an old and familiar blanket pulled tight around your shoulders, as if it would deflect your negative thoughts. 

The wind outside howled past the window, and you shuddered as the weatherman on TV explained that a chill would make its way into Forks tonight. Glancing at the clock, it told you that it was a little past noon. You threw the blanket off of your shoulders, standing up and deciding to make some macaroni and cheese for lunch. 

As you were draining the boiling water from the noodles, the phone rang. You flinch, jumpier than usual, and set down the pot. Reaching the phone, you pick it up and hold it to your ear.

“Hey, kiddo. Billy just called and invited us over for burgers and the game. I’m leaving work early today, so leave soon to meet me down there.” Charlie says. 

“Uh.. okay, sure. I’ll leave in five.” You say, confusion taking over your mind. You murmur a goodbye, then hang up the phone and go upstairs to change. Pulling your shirt off, you get the weirdest feeling that someone is watching you.

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

Deep in the mountains, a fight rages on between Victoria’s army and the Cullens. As Victoria corners Edward and Bella, she looks between the two and cackles. 

“Interesting. If you’re here protecting Bella, I wonder who’s home protecting Y/n..” She says, her eyebrow raised and a smirk on her lips. 

“No! You need me, not her!” Bella yells, her mind clouded with frustration and worry. The redhead sighs dramatically, her stride flanked by Riley. 

“Of course I don’t need her. But she’ll be just for fun. It’ll give me an excuse to rip the blond one to shreds when he comes after me.” She says, referring to Jasper as she nonchalantly picks at her nails. Edward crouches into an offensive position while Bella’s eyes widen and her hand places itself on her agape mouth.

“No..” Bella cries. The wolf lurking in the woods, ready to strike, overhears the conversation and sends a message to the others.

Miles away in a clearing, Jacob relays the message to Carlisle, who tells Jasper. Before he even hears the words fall from Carlisle’s mouth, Jasper feels his overwhelming grief. 

“Go. We’ll be fine without you. Go to her!” Esme urges him, and he takes off running. When he reaches his motorcycle that he drove to the clearing, he kicks it started and races down the backroads, the bike’s speedometer topping out at 125 MPH.

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

A breeze makes you shiver, but the realization that you shut and locked your windows after Bella left makes you freeze. You glance up into the small mirror that rests on your dresser to see a dark figure standing behind you. Screaming, you grab the first thing in arms reach- a lamp- and grip it so tight that your knuckles turn white. You whirl around and raise your arm, ready to strike, but the figure moves impossibly fast and slams it’s foot into your stomach, sending you crashing into the wall. Intense pain in your chest makes you groan. As the figure comes into light, you see that he has bright red eyes. You try to scream again, but the pressure in your chest restricts you from taking the breath to do so. You cough, and blood dribbles down your chin.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Y/n Swan..” He mutters, licking his lips as he trails his eyes down your body. 

“Who.. Who are you?” You ask weakly. He rolls his eyes, crouching down to meet you eye to eye. 

“It doesn’t matter who I am. You’ll be dead before you even have the chance to repeat my name.” He whispers harshly. His hand flies to your throat, lifting you up so that you’re suspended in the air. His hand tightens, making you instinctively reach up and claw at it with your nails. Your attempt is futile, as his skin is so hard that your fingernails snap off, leaving your fingers as bloody nubs. Your eyes widen as he presses down harder, your mouth falling open as you gasp for air. You can hear your heartbeat in an ear-deafening thrum, and your head feels like it’s exploding as you try to scream out. No noise comes out, though- if anything, just a squeak. The guy pulls you close to him, pressing his nose to your neck as he inhales deeply. “Such a shame I can’t take a drink. Victoria said we can’t leave anything to chance. You smell absolutely heavenly, and I can hear your blood pumping- screaming out for someone to sink their teeth in and suck you dry.” 

“Well, maybe one taste wouldn’t hurt..” He smiles, his lips pulling back to reveal two sharpened teeth. The sight gives you a second wind, struggling against his grasp even harder. He doesn’t seem affected in the slightest, sliding his hands down lower on your neck for a moment before brushing your hair out of the way to give him access to your bruising neck. Closing your eyes and preparing yourself for the pain to come, a thump behind your assailant startles you and him. He flinches, momentarily clenching the hand around your throat. A crunch is heard as a squeak escapes your lips, and then you’re dropped to the floor, unable to breath. You reach your hands to your throat as blood pumps from the wound that your crushed trachea caused. You gurgle as you drown on your own blood, your vision dotting and the overwhelming need to close your eyes taking over as you see Jasper lunge.

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

Jumping off his bike, Jasper doesn’t bother to flip down the kickstand as he runs and jumps through the window into your room. At the sound of his entrance, a black haired vampire looks over and snarls at him. Jasper sees red at the sight of the vampire’s hand gripped around your throat, and once he sees him drop you he lunges. Tackling the guy to the ground, he wrestles with him until he has the access to reach his neck. Planting a foot on the guy’s shoulder, Jasper twists his neck until a crisp snap bounces off the walls and the vampire goes grey and limp. Jasper stares down at the body, never having felt this much fury coursing through his veins. The sound of gurgling snaps him out of his blind rage, and his eyes widen at the sight of you laying on the floor, your hands attempting to stop the bleeding from your neck. Blood fills his nostrils and his throat burns as he longs to drink your sweet smelling blood. He kneels over you as your hands go limp and you fall unconscious. He knows that your time is coming to an end, and it’s coming fast. His eyes burn with the need to cry, though he knows he can’t; and his throat burns with the need to drink your blood that sits there, seemingly staring back at him. He clenches his jaw as he thinks back to how you make him feel like he’s alive again. How you smile at him and how whenever you’re around him he’s overwhelmed with total adoration. How he doesn’t want to exist without you. How he loves you more than anything he’s ever loved before, and how desperately he needs you. And so he pulls your limp body to his chest and buries his face into your neck, sinking his teeth into your delicate skin and letting the venom seep into your veins. 

[anyu-blue]

~

I know a big part of it is the sleep deprivation.. again.. but I'm hella depressed.

Like overall I'm.. content? I guess? I have job. = Good. I have place to live. = Good. I have my game(s) I can play anytime I have time/want. = Good. I have appointments to try and get feeling better and keep trying and keep trying when I don't. = Good. I have Kizzy and will probably have him for at least 3 more years, if not longer. = Good. I have contingency plans in place for paying for my surgeries. = Good.

I've got a lot of good right now. And it's not that I'm ungrateful. I am EXTREMELY grateful. Considering my issues I've done extremely well. Even if some of it was on accident.

It's just.. well.. I'm tired, of course. Not sleeping well or much for days on end sucks. Especially because I could have, but people are going to keep living their lives and accidentally waking/keeping me up because they just don't think about my situation 24/7. Or even know it. Or consider it. Because life's too short for that according to, like everyone but me.

I'm sick of course. I've definitely tried the 'I'm doing great/not sick!!' mindset.. and it doesn't work.. cuz stuff HURTS. I don't have the energy to keep pretending either... And I don't think there was really a time I wasn't sick. Not in my whole life.. and It feels impossible to have any hope I'll ever not be physically sick... No matter what or how hard I try. Especially because I'm aging as all people do. Especially being forced to constantly check what I eat because if I don't I can hurt myself/make myself even more sick. Or starve, which hurts me too but is better than the alternatives. Especially being I have to rely on a healthcare system that looks down on what I can afford. Especially because what I can afford is so little. Especially because of our healthcare system being so politically charged people like me with the needs I have (even just replacing bones!!! Hello?! Our STUPID society forgets teeth are BONES and NECESSARY ones at that- but the instant you say teeth people literally don't give two shits, think you're just vain, and 100% brush you off. Even doctors.. and I have cried so hard over this stupid stuff and tried to rally and I'm STILL trying to save my own god damn life. I hate saying that's what I'm doing because I have some of that stupidity in me of thinking vanity... But I'm literally trying to save my forsaken life and be a LOT less miserable, and I feel so hopeless because only the little people who get it actually seem to want to help/be able to push aside that vanity thought and it hurts so badly to ask them to squeeze for me-- thank you if you're reading this and you've reblogged/shared my post. And I cannot thank you enough, and feel I owe you so much if you've donated... Every tiny bit helps. You and I are little people in the sense we don't exactly have $10,000+ to just throw around an have no worries about lol)

I'm.. also lonely? I guess? .. it's probably the best way to describe it. I don't like people all over me. Or really messaging constantly because moods change and People have lives.. but I miss... I want... Stress free interactions. Getting to spend time and go and do things. Not being alone all the time or missing out on everything. Time is meaningless pretty much right now in the sense I've missed all the holidays. 100%. No time spent celebrating or using the time or even seeing people. Im so much a damn adult and yet I still feel like crying whenever my siblings/cousins talk about last halloween because they had so much fun... They spent the day together in matching costumes by themselves at a park. And that's it... I was delirious from sleep deprivation when I saw them for the 5 minutes I did.. and stress because of my ex being the bastard he is to me. And work. So I couldn't join them. And it doesn't bother them in the least. It's such a happy memory for them and I am struggling to let go of the envy. They have so many days they spend together too.. remotely mostly, but they have so much fun. They wake me up alot with their calls.. and get pissed when I'm like hey guys I'm sorry but could you tone it down? I honestly stopped asking lately because they get so pissed and have even been like 'It wasn't me at all!!' even when I can quote what they said back to them and try to find anything and anyone else to blame... My little sister especially is CONSISTENTLY Telling me she has no idea what she even just said so I know it's bullshit it's not her.... And it just hurts. I try so hard. I drug myself to fall asleep almost every single workday now and I hate it. It's not good for you I feel. Says non habit forming but I just. Uck. And I have familiar, soft sound on. And I've shut my cat out. And I've consistently changed my bedding and cleaned and worn masks/covered my eyes, and done everything I can think of to try and make sure I'm going to sleep as long as possible. I don't go to bed and wake up early in the evenings to cook or spend time with them anymore because I'm trying to give myself more sleep. I don't stay up to see my sisters during the day anymore. Because I'm trying to give myself more sleep. I turn everything off (besides what I hope will help with the noise) at noon and try to lay down as soon after noon as I can every day. Anything blue gets covered or turned off. Everything has red light filters too to get rid of the blue.. but I can't seem to get more than a few jagged hours any given day unless it happens to be their early days where they take naps or I end up so exhausted I'm passed out at night when I should be awake so my shifts aren't so hard... So all that adds up to my being alone and lonely as my own damn fault. Because obviously I stopped making the efforts... The thing that hurts most about that is I was the only one making ANY effort at all to include myself in people's lives (still rings true for everyone in my own city at least- family, friends, the works).. and when I HAD to stop and told them why and asked if they'd be willing to meet me sometimes when it was hard for them (even like once a month fully planned out if need be, or spontaneous because I'm NOT picky)... I got yesses. I did. But. Do you think it ever once happened besides the very day we talked about it?

No.

I can and have gone through every single message and note I have (my memory isn't what it was after I got as sick as I did last fall so I try to keep track of everything instead of relying on my memory anymore)... The only person who even slightly tried was only doing so because he wanted every gd opportunity to beg me to sleep with him (pretty much- he wasn't subtle).. and I had to cut him out because he's not a good person in his own right, sadly. Which left me entirely alone in many ways. Which leaves me entirely alone unless I reach out first and sacrifice sleep.

The continuance of this unfortunately has contributed to my depression.. and the fact no one wants to be around cuz I'm a bummer. And the sleep issues have caused irritability I try so hard to control, but at certain stages I just lose my filters and don't want to say stuff or ramble but I also don't want to miss the opportunity with the person (usually one of my sisters) so stuff gets awkward and they don't like being around THAT. And I don't blame them. But I'd do?

Ugh... I know night shift is my fault... And is a major part of the problem... But I work it to avoid People who don't care about me and mine. To keep myself safe. To keep myself from having panic attacks. I'm doing a lot better with them... But I was breaking down so often at or about work it was getting out of hand... With night shift I'm not overwhelmed like that and I don't have to worry do much about my poor mind losing its sharpness as much. I can take my time more or less. And I get paid enough to survive. ....

I'm just depressed and I know it's on me but I wish I had more help than I do..

Wishing is also the problem. Instead of being happy with what I have.

Blargh...

[stardewtales]

You should write more about that first part of those headcanons 💚

anon i literally thought you were riley because she asked me to do the exact same thing .2 seconds after she read them y’all are kindred spirits i swear

but anyways I hope you like this!! one tall glass of shane juice just for ya babes. putting a cut because this got hella long. chug that spicy fluff ladies x

It’s the end of autumn, and Marnie has asked Shane to look over Jas for the night. Jas is absolutely elated.

“Sleepover! Sleepover! Sleepover!” she chants, jumping up and down on the couch.

Shane chuckles, bringing out plates of pizza slices for them into the living room.

“It’s not a sleepover if we already live together, squirt,” he teases her.

Jas pouts at him. “Yes it is!” she insists.

He huffs. “Fine, you know what, if you want this to be a sleepover, let’s make it one. Just please don’t tell aunt Marnie I heated up pizza instead of the soup she left for us.”

Jas giggles. “Promise I won’t tell,” she tries to wink but just ends up blinking. “Pinky swear!” she adds, holding out her pinky and waving it at him.

Shane easily grabs her pinky with his. “I’ll hold you to it,” he says with a faked seriousness.

He pops in the movie into the player, some animated film about dancing sister princesses. If he didn’t go to Jas’s room regularly, he wouldn’t remember the last time he saw so much pink. He doesn’t mind, though; Jas is delighted, which is all that matters. 

They finish their pizza pretty quickly, and Jas nestles into his side on the couch. He puts his arm around her, a swell of pride burgeoning inside. She’s so tiny, her breaths so small. He forgets sometimes. 

They are halfway through the movie when someone knocks at the door.

“Who is it?” Jas asks, looking up at him.

“I don’t know,” he answers, frowning as he checks the time. “Don’t worry, I’m going to go check and be right back. You can tell me what I missed when I get back,” he ruffles the top of her head.

She giggles, before focusing back on the movie. He gets up with a grunt, stretching out. His steps are lazy as he makes his way to the door. The knocks come again.

“Yeah, yeah, coming,” he mutters.

He swings the door open, and is shocked to see you there.

“What are you doing here so late?” he asks, confused.

You take a second to answer, blinking at him. “Why hello Shane, good to see you too,” you grimace.

He sighs and scratches his cheek, slightly embarrassed. “Sorry. I, uh, nice to see you. But why am I seeing you, exactly? Weren’t you… mad at me?”

“You weren’t at the Stardrop,” you say, shifting on your feet, avoiding his gaze. “I was worried you might be sick or… something. You can be a rude ass when you put your mind to it, but that doesn’t mean I want you to perish, you know.”

His neck burns with heat at that. He’s still ashamed you had to find him like that by the cliffs, this summer. But you should know he’s doing better by now, shouldn’t you? It’s all because of you, after all. No matter how often he snaps at you, which he only does because he’s freaking out. Freaking out about how fast you make his heart beat and how great your hair smells when you hug him and how he’s still just waiting for the other shoe to drop when you decide you’ve had enough of his friendship.

“I’m babysitting Jas,” he explains, clearing his throat. “Marnie’s off boning the Mayor tonight,” he adds in a whisper so Jas won’t have a chance of hearing.

Your eyes grow wide and he sees you stifle a burst of laughter, biting the inside of your cheek. He… he likes when you do that. Couldn’t say why. He just likes it. 

“There’s, uh, leftover pizza if you want to hang out a bit,” he offers. He really hopes you’ll stay; you’ve been so busy preparing for the winter, he’s barely seen you this week. And, there’s been the whole mad at him thing, because he called you overbearing and fussy for telling him to ease up on the drinking last Friday night. 

You seem to hesitate, looking out towards the path that leads to your farm. “I need to wake up early tomorrow,” you start, and he deflates, “but I guess a slice of pizza can’t hurt.”

“Oh,” he says, not having expected that. “That’s, erm, cool. Jas is gonna be really happy to see you, too.”

“And you won’t?” you ask with a smirk, stepping inside.

He feels his cheeks burn. You make him blush so easily, it’s horrible. 

“Jury’s still out on that,” he teases, hiding his fluster.

You glare at him as you kick off your boots, but he knows you don’t mean it.

“Jas?” you call out, heading for the living room.

He follows behind you. He can’t help his eyes dropping to eye the sway of your hips as you walk, and flushes once more as he forces himself to look away. Get a grip, man, he chastises himself.

He hears Jas gasps as she tumbles off the couch. “You’re here!! Are you here for the sleepover?” she exclaims, running to hug your legs, and you almost topple, but you keep your balance and laugh as you pet her hair affectionately.

“Hey baby girl,” you smile down at her. “If you’ll have me, I’d be really glad to join your sleepover, yeah.”

“Don’t be silly,” Jas giggles. “Of course you can be in the sleepover.”

Shane can’t help but chuckle at the whole thing. He can’t believe he’s lucky enough to have the two best girls in the world with him for the evening. 

You get yourself some of the pizza, and Jas sums up the beginning of the movie for you, sat between you and him. Shane can’t help his eyes drifting to you every so often. At some point, he watches you bite into the slice, heat creeping up his neck when you swallow and lick your lips. You catch him looking, and he feels himself reddens harder, but you don’t seem to notice.

“Want some?” you simply hold out the slice to him.

“Uh, no,” he gulps. “I’m fine, thanks.”

You shrug, and he focuses on the screen. As soon as you set the plate down, Jas looks at you with expectant eyes.

“Can I braid your hair? Please?” she asks you.

“Well,” you smile, “It wouldn’t really be a sleepover if I said no, uh?”

Jas is ecstatic as you slide down to sit on the floor in front of where she sits on the couch. She takes up to braiding sections of your hair as she hums along to the songs in the movie, wildly out of time. Shane lets out a laugh when you start to dance along moving your shoulders as much as you can while still allowing for Jas to keep working on your hair.

“What?” you turn around with an exaggerated indignant expression.

Jas inhales loudly, before turning to him as well. “Yeah, what, uncle Shane?” she mimics.

He only laughs harder, pulling Jas to him. She squeals as he kisses the top of her head, and he catches you smiling softly at him and Jas. It creates a knot in the pit of his stomach. 

“You look ridiculous,” he teases you, gesturing to the uneven braids.

Jas gasps. “No she looks pretty!” she argues. 

“See, Jas knows what she’s talking about,” you stick your tongue out at him.

Jas is squinting at him. “Say she looks pretty,” she orders him.

His mouth dries up. You’ve suddenly taken to watching the movie very intently. Jas tugs on his sleeve, insistent.

“Okay, okay,” he gives in, swatting her away. “She’s… she’s pretty. There, happy?”

She gives him a toothy grin. “Really pretty?”

His breath strangles. “The prettiest,” he mutters, and you choke on the cold popcorn you’re munching on, startling him. “That good enough for you?” he asks his niece.

She nods vigorously, before settling back down behind you. As the movie goes on, she starts to yawn more and more often. By the end of it, she’s rubbing her eyes, struggling to keep them open. She barely puts up a fight when he tells her it’s time to brush her teeth and get to bed. He feels a warm rush when she hugs you goodnight and you plant a kiss on her cheek. You’d just fit so well into his life, he knows it. You already do.

He’s tucking her in when she asks him the question she’s asked him five or six times already.

“Uncle Shane?” she asks, voice sleepy.

“Hmm?” 

“Why isn’t she your girlfriend?”

He sighs deeply. 

“She is, squirt, she’s a girl who is a friend,” he replies. 

Jas pouts. “Do you love her?”

“I…” he hesitates. “I do. Like I love you and aunt Marnie. That doesn’t mean I want aunt Marnie to be my girlfriend, now does it?”

She crinkles up her nose. “Gross.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, got that right. Sleep tight, baby girl. Sweet dreams,” he kisses her forehead.

“Night night,” she yawns, clutching the covers. 

He’s as silent as he can be as he shuts her door and walks back to the living room. He finds you picking at your nails on the couch.

“Hey,” he whispers.

“Hey.”

You seem about to say something as you look towards the door. He speaks up first; he doesn’t want you to go, not yet. 

“I don’t know about you, but I need a palette cleanser after all that glitter.”

You chuckle. “Won’t we wake Jas if we put on another movie?”

“I have a TV in my room,” he offers, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. 

“Oh, right,” you nod. “Yeah, okay, sure.”

He exhales in relief when you get up to follow him to his room, before the nerves kick in. It’s not like you haven’t been in his room before. It’s just that every other time, Marnie was around, and it wasn’t past nightfall.

You shiver as you walk into his room with him. “Your room is freezing, man,” you say, rubbing your arms.

“It’s not even that cold,” he rolls his eyes.

He crouches in front of the TV to put in a movie, and he hears his bed creak behind him. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, shocked when he turns around to see you settling down on the bed, back against the wall. “There’s a couch over there.”

You eye the couch briefly. “I’m not sitting down on your ratty couch, pal. Last time I did my jeans smelled like beer for a week.”

He flushes a deep red. “Fine,” he grumbles. “What movie do you want to watch anyways?”

You shrug. “I don’t mind. Your pick. Just make it good,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes. “Sure, no pressure then.”

He goes for an old favourite of his, pops it in before walking up to the bed, but he hesitates. You pat the place beside you, smirking, and he clumsily climbs up beside you, making sure to leave some distance. When the opening credits begin, you laugh incredulously.

“Are you kidding me right now?” you ask. “That one, really?

“What? It’s a classic!”

“It’s the cheesiest action movie ever made, is what it is,” you laugh.

“Be quiet,” he shoves you, and you only laugh harder.

You’re twenty minutes into the movie when he notices you looking around the room.

“Need anything?” he asks you.

You rub your arm. “Do you have a blanket or something? I’m a bit cold, but I’ll manage if you don’t.”

He scans the room as well, before remembering the throw he keeps for colder nights is in the laundry.

“Shit, sorry I don’t really have anything to offer you,” he says, contrite.

“That’s okay,” you wave it off.

Some more time passes before you shiver again.

“Boy you’re really cold aren’t you?” he notes. He wanted to sound like he was teasing you, but what ends up coming out is just soft. Too soft.

The embarrassed smile you offer him has him weak. 

“Do you… do you mind if I come closer?” you whisper, staring ahead at the TV.

His blood runs cold. “Do I mind if..?” he trails off, only able to echo your question.

You don’t leave him much time before you scoot against him, pressing against his side. The way you exhale, leaning your head down on his shoulder, isn’t too far off from a sigh, and his heart jumps in his ribcage. Your legs are folded, resting on his lap.

“Oh,” he says. “Okay, uhm, here, I’ll just put my… arm around you,” he struggles to say, before doing so. “Like this…How’s this?”

“Better,” you hum. 

He nods. “That’s good,” he murmurs.

He can’t remember the last time he’s been this nervous. Thank goodness for the darkness, because he knows that hearing you breathe like this, so very close, it has him flushing a dark red.

“Your shoulders are really comfy,” you say, shifting your head a bit. 

He can only swallow. When the big love scene comes on, the two of you are still as rocks. He can hear the way your breath grows a bit shallow. It’s almost the end of the movie when you reach a hand forward, dragging on his stomach, to grab his hand, lacing your fingers with his. 

“What are you…?” he asks hastily, heart skipping a beat. He becomes very self-conscious of the softness of his abdomen. He doesn’t see how you won’t notice it.

He hears you gulp, notices how you retreat your hand slightly. You still won’t look at him. “Would you rather I don’t?”

“No,” he sputters hastily, instinctively clutching your hand tighter. “I mean, I,” and he relaxes his grasp a bit, “I’m okay with it.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

For the rest of the movie, he can’t seem to focus. Having you curled up against him like this, it’s something out of his wildest dreams. He can’t piece together what it means, doesn’t understand what can possibly be going through your mind. He startles every time you shift in the slightest, every time you inhale a bit deeper or your breath hitches from following the action on screen. The top of your head is tantalizing; he wants to stroke it, to lean down and kiss it so you’ll finally know. He can’t bring himself to do it.

He grabs the remote and shuts off the TV when the credits start to roll. You don’t move. He tries to look down, but he can’t see your face, only the top of your head still.

“I’m sorry I was such a dick the other day,” he ends up saying. “I… I never mean it, when I snap at you.”

“I know,” you answer, and your voice is a low hum, so pleasant. “Why does it keep happening, though? If I annoy you, you can tell me before I reach your limit, you know.”

“No, it,” he pauses, struggling to find the words, “It has nothing to do with you. Or at least, it’s not your fault.”

He’s sure you’re frowning, despite being unable to see. “What is it, then?”

He exhales shakily. “Sometimes… sometimes I worry too much and I forget how to act. I get so fucking scared of losing you. You’re the only person who likes… gets me. As I am.”

You finally tilt your head to look up at him, and he’s short for breath. You’re so close. “I’m not going anywhere, Shane,” you tell him, squeezing his fingers. Usually, there’s always something teasing in your tone, even if it’s just underlying. But the way you say this… the way your eyes are so soft as you peer up at him, it’s gentle in a whole new way. Tender. “I don’t want to lose you either,” your eyes shut painfully. “I wish you’d stop pushing me away.”

Your eyes flutter back open. He doesn’t know what to say. You let go of his hand, and he lets it go reluctantly. And then you bring it up to his chest, and he gulps when his breath catches. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes as you just look at each other like this, anxious. And then something shifts, something you both can feel but couldn’t pinpoint. Your mouths meet each other halfway, him leaning down, you tilting up, so tentative and slow. Your eyes flutter shut. At first, his lips barely graze yours.  But then they do again, and your lips draw his in definitively this time. He overwhelmed by how loudly you exhale through your nose; it sounds like somehow you’ve just might’ve been holding out for this just as much as he has. 

His head spins when you pull apart. “Woah,” is the only sound he can muster, filled with quiet wonder.

You huff the quietest of laughs. 

“Can we, uh,” he swallows, “do that again?”

He expects you to to tease him for that, to give him that mocking smile of yours that seems to come so easily. Instead, you just nod, sitting up, your hand pressing further into his chest for purchase as you go back to kiss him again. 

This time he’s ready. There’s more conviction to the way his mouth captures yours, more yearning. You make a sound halfway between a moan and a whimper, ringing so loud in the silence of the room. His arms wrap around you tighter. He doesn’t want to let go, ever. The abandon with which you kiss him has him reeling. He almost whines when you pull away.

“Let me stay here tonight,” you breathe. “I know you. If you don’t wake up with me beside you tomorrow morning, if I don’t hold you as soon as you open your eyes, you’ll convince yourself this isn’t real.”

He can hear blood thrumming in his head. You place a gentle kiss on his lips to drive your point home, before pulling back and holding his gaze.

“Nothing has to happen,” you add, blushing, and fuck, it’s adorable. “Nothing will happen. I just want to… be with you.”

“But,” he scrambles, “where do we go from here? I just… I don’t know how to do this. I didn’t think I’d get to.”

You smile gently and stroke the stubble on his cheek. He feels like he’s meeting a whole new you. There’s affection pouring from every touch. He’s never been touched like that, not really. 

“We’ll figure that out in the morning,” you tell him. 

You kiss him again, sweet as ripe fruit. His hunger for it hasn’t been sated yet. He wants you to feel how hard he wants you, every last part of you. It’s not a physical desire. Well, it’s part of it, and he knows he needs to stop before too much blood rushes down below, but mostly he wants you in an all-encompassing way. 

He wants to spend evenings cuddled up with you by a fire as the wind rustles the pines. He wants to hear you say his name the way you do when you can’t bring yourself to be mad at him again and again. He wants to go to the beach at dawn with you for no reason, which is stupid he knows because he hates waking up early. He wants to be inside of you as the birds chirp in the morning and you still have pillow creases on your face.

“Stay,” he nods, breathing deeply when he pulls away. “Stay, and, and sleep in my arms. You’re right, you’re always right. I need…” he pauses, “I need you to stay.”

You kiss his jaw, and his eyes flutter shut. “I know. And I… I need it too. I need you too.” 

[crimsoncarcass]

Hello I logged in on 1/11/2021 by accident but here are some feelings

This is not the blog I wanted to find. This is not the one I thought I’d log into. This is not the account I hoped to remember or to write in, but my thoughts are important, my feelings are important, and recently pain soars through so much of my mind that I forget and shut down. It’s like everything leaves me, my mind, in a wisp of the wind, and the numb feeling of all those emotions of pain, hate, is all that is left with the tear thaat welled up in my eyes, that couldn’t drop for some reason. Why is it? That ever since Kuro left, I’ve stopped something inside that could still change and grow? What is it that I fucked up in myself to have a fake girlfriend, a fake romance, and fake emotions? I am lying to myself, I know, but about what? I can’t even tell. There’s nothing here for me at the age 24. There is nothing here in this whole world because I have hid myself from everyone, even myself, to the point that maybe there’s no way to open up again. To me, I have always separated, segregated, and kept them away; those people that cared and the friends and people who actually reached my heart-- even those people, are something that I try to erase from my heart every day. I try my best to open up physically, to be more present, to be more honest and to be genuine and myself, and yet, every few days when my repressed emotions surface, I find myself deleting myself, deleting the memories, deleting people, and in one way or another, distancing myself. 

Even when I look back on the good memories, I smile at it like a parent to a child, somewhere inside me, it says “We all grow up and leave some day”, and there’s a warmth behind all those words, but it sounds so cold. It sounds so cold to my soul that the tears that well up, sometimes drop down my cheek. Sometimes it makes me scream into my pillow because I can feel my skin, my extra fat on my chin wrinkle up and my nose scrunch up, and I don’t want to imagine what I look like. Sometimes I can let my voice out if I unwire all the way, sometimes, actually most of the time, I am silenced. Muted. 

Yes, that’s how I cry. Why do I write this? I don’t even know, maybe I think someone will read it one day. Maybe I think the pain I hold inside will be noticed one day, and even understood. Maybe I think someone who knows a similar pain will approach me one day -- and I won’t be so alone. Maybe I will find someone I can relate my trauma to, my despair with, someone I can truly connect with like Sophia was. Maybe all I’m looking for is a way to ask for help, someone to show up and prove that surviving was worth it, that the suffering I went through in life was something I wouldn’t regret or cry about. Maybe one day I will wake up in that dream I had in my happiest moments... Do you want to hear the dream I had? I had it one random night I stayed on call with Kuro. We slept on phone calls all the time, it made me feel safe, it made me feel like someone was actually paying attention to me, even when they weren’t. I didn’t feel abandoned, and I never thought he’d abandon me, and it was the best time of my life. Sometimes, he would be so exhausted, but we always laughed, whether it be the bad Vietnamese I practiced to tell him “Good Night” or “Thank you”, or just a random thought. I have seen happiness, and perhaps I should be blessed enough from that.

In the dream, I’m sitting on some random window with my violin in my hand. Whether or not there is an actual seat is unknown, but whether it be comfortable or uncomfortable. I looked hella cool. I had no trauma playing my violin, it was like I practiced 8 hours a day again, but from my own will. And I was doodling my own composition, I was spaced out and unfocused but i was inspired. There’s a kettle blowing in the back of the house, the kitchen, and I hear a female voice yelling in the background. It’s almost exactly like my mother, perhaps it was her too, but before my mom, out of the hallway comes another, a better and more familiar voice-- Kuro’s voice. “GIN OH MY GODD” is all I could make out of the yelling and the distant kettle stops its high pitched drone. I stop playing and turn around and yell “IM SORRY” and despite a happy undertone, I feel my face holding an “oops” expression on my face. My mom comes out from the hallway too with her high pitched yelling, she’s always like this but her voice along with Kuro’s scolds me and somehow, it’s all good. I feel a warmth in the way they scold me and at this point the dream is so fuzzy I don’t know if I had any visuals, but I remember the bright white screen in my head, and the simple warmth and relief in my chest that tomorrow will be an okay day. It was so nice, it was the best dream I’ve ever had in my life. If I died, I’d want to live in that moment forever. Even if I don’t die, I want to feel like that once in real life.  I don’t know what I felt. I don’t know if it was love. I don’t know if it was affection. I don’t know if what I felt was acceptance. I don’t know if it felt so good because I left all my trauma and depression behind, maybe I got over my exes in that moment. Maybe I --- I told Kuro so many things, near the end I had so many delusional dates I wanted to do, I told him everything I wanted to do with him...and yet, I was probably the one who broke his heart.  I wish you could tell me. What do I do now? What should I do? I know what you said, you told me to take care of myself, you told me to put myself first and to make myself happy. You told me to do all of these things and I’ve been working, working so hard. I have been doing everything you told me to, I promise. I just haven’t gotten to the brushing your teeth thing yet, I can’t do it yet, and sometimes I even think that you don’t come back because I can’t even brush my teeth by myself every night yet. But I don’t because what if ...what if I do get myself together, and you still don’t come back? How will I ever get better if I lose hope? I know you don’t want me to coin you as my life’s hope, I know you probably hated it and it weighed you down so much that when everything broke, you quickly found a way out-- and I respect everything you’ve done and do, I don’t think you’ve done a single thing wrong and even if it hurts, I know you must be in a better place by now, because that’s how you are. You never go anywhere that isn’t better. But with you gone, I can do anything I want with you in my memories can’t I, even if that means turning you into some miracle, some deity in my book that I can obsess over?  Kuro I’m not better. I’m not sure if I’m getting better at all. Sometimes I feel like my life is coming together, and then I remember it’s all going to fall apart, and it hurts and hurts so I shut it away like you did, because negating your feelings was what you were good at, and I couldn’t understand until recently I met Jessi, and she has taught me how to do it and even enjoy the process. I wish you can come and stop it, because right now you have such power over me that if you said one word I’d do anything to obey your wise words. Please, just please. I wish you’d let me forget to wait for you. I wish you reply one day, I wish one day I forget all of this. I don’t even know how anymore. I don’t know what to do with your memories Kuro. I can’t change maybe. Maybe this is really where I end at age 26. Did you know? The zodiac readings from the japanese blogs and professional fortune tellers all say that 26 for my year, is actually a Huge bad luck Year? I really think it might work. I really think that this will happen. But atleast I had you once. I fucked up Kuro. I get it now. After so much remorse and overthinking, I stopped thinking in details anymore. So now the answer is simply, I fucked the fuck up. And this is it. I’m going to die at age 26. And so far, everything is confirmed and it seems no one can really stop me anymore. I keep waiting for a sign, a message, a symbol, or an experience, that can keep me alive and going, to not kill myself at 26. But I think...so far, its not going so well.  The only person I feel sorry, and truly truly sorry for, is Vally. I don’t know how much time I have left, but I know for sure, that the time provided between Vally and I, were probably meant to be longer-- but I’m not sure if I can make it through my 26th year. I’m planning to do a phone call this weekend with her. I don’t know what I’m going to tell her, everything is such bad thoughts and bad endings, I don’t know what to say. I dont want to tell her anything that isn’t confirmed yet, but maybe its better for her to hear it early? But who can really tell her, a true companion, a true trauma-bonded victim, a true compassionate ally of yours, the most trustable person in the world, even more than Kuro at times,... that so far, it’s about 87% confirmed that I will kill myself in 2 years?

[typewriting-angel]

San Diego

A/N; hey so I'm not dead and I have motivation for very certain things for small amounts of time. But I cranked this out hella fast so...

Word Count: 1153 (I think?)

I hope this is okay, it's not edited but I tried

San Diego…. One hundred and twenty miles or so from your quiet and spacious home in Los Angeles, a quick two hours drive yet you stayed in a hotel. Your husband had to be in San Diego for Comic Con because he was Sebastian Stan, the incredibly talented, extremely gorgeous actor and had to be there for all of the Marvel shenanigans. It made sense though, staying in a nice hotel so after a really long day of being famous, Seb could easily come back to the hotel to be himself with you. The hotel room was a standard suite, a king bed, a kitchenette, a spotless bathroom, a desk, an overstuffed chair, and a bland (in Seb's opinion ugly) piece of art. It was perfect for your situation, a little married couple staying for a weekend in sunny San Diego.

You loved waking up to a quiet room with the love of your life laying next to you. It was early for a Saturday morning, about seven and the sun was peaking through the curtains, calling you out of your slumber. Today was a big day, there was a panel that you were to have a guest appearance on to tell the world a very big secret. There was so many things to be announced today from movies to TV shows, so the one thing that you were invited to say was on par, almost.

As the morning grogginess faded, the thought of coffee and a decent breakfast filled your mind. Comic Con weekends were always rough when it was a shot in the dark if you'd have a normal meal or even get a decent amount of water, everything was put at full throttle. You flung your feet onto the floor and made your way to the bathroom to start on your morning routine. You made certain to stay quiet, trying to let your exhausted husband sleep for a little while longer.

You stood in the doorway of the bathroom, brushing your teeth while looking at clothes you had hanging in the small closet. The secret was hard to keep a secret because you were a beauty YouTuber and had a big following, and well it was damn hard to keep it out of social media in all forms. You were 18 weeks pregnant and showing a little baby bump. Only you, Seb, one panel director, your parents, his parents, and assorted siblings knew, just to keep absolutely everything under wraps and they were all sworn to secrecy the moment you told them. The two outfits you packed were concealing enough so that if anyone saw you they wouldn't be able to tell. You went for a simple yellow shirt and blue jeans, so that when you finally revealed the next generation of Marvel fans you could easily show off your growing bump.

You got ready quickly and efficiently, trying to not waste precious breakfast time. As you added final touches, a pair of hands slipped into your back pockets. "Good morning, beautiful." Sebastian kissed your exposed neck. "How did you sleep?" One hand moved towards cradling your baby bump and bringing you closer to him.

You turned to kiss him on the cheek, "Good, I'm just nervous about the panel today. We haven't even told Anthony."

Sebastian sighed, "I think everyone will take it pretty well. I mean, Scarlett and Chris will be ecstatic that we're pregnant. Not everyone was exactly pleased when we got married, but it's not about the world, it's about our family." He kissed your lips, melting your fear and nerves.

Breakfast and the first few hours of the convention does by, you met many people at Seb's booth, took photos, gave hugs, and laughed with nervous fans. Eventually you moved to Seb's panel and sat side stage talking to Natalie Portman. Soon enough the panel director who knew, Sarah, came rushing over. "Hi Y/N! It's time to get you on, do you need anything before we send you out?" Her energy was contagious and you caught it strong.

"No, I think I'm fine, thank you." Sarah ushered you towards the stairs to the platform. She gave basic directions on where to first stand and where to sit. She gave one final smile as your husband announced your presence and walked over to accompany you across the stage.

You looked out at the crowd, a beautiful diverse crowd that was packed full with amazing costumes and perfect handiwork. "Hello everyone!" The crowd cheered in response. "Oh my gosh, what a dream come true to be on stage at San Diego Comic Con!" Once again, the crowd erupted.

Sebastian laced his hand with yours and brought you to center stage, from there you could see the vastness of the crowd. So many people jam-packed into one conference hall, many standing others doubled up on chairs. It was a sight to behold. Anthony Mackie approached you, giving a small side hug and a cheek kiss. "As many of you know, Sebastian and Y/N have been married for what? Five years now, almost six?" You nodded to Anthony's question. "And what a beautiful couple they are, don't you think?" His interaction with the crowd went over well, a very loud response followed his statement.

You brought the mic up to speak, "And many people have been dying to know when we'd have kids or get a puppy. Today as we unveil to you Marvel's phase four, we'd like to announce," you dropped Seb's hand and turned to the side, "our newest cast member arriving December fifth."

Your husband's hand went to accentuate your bump, photographers and journalists swarming the stage to get the tender photo of the Stan family. And quickly enough, you felt your phone go off from multiple texts of congratulations and well wishes. All you could do in that moment was hold Sebastian close and smile for the cameras. Your eyes darted to the edge of the stage where Scarlett, both Toms, Chris, Tessa, and Natalie were standing with wide grins and clapping.

Your good friends gave thumbs up and looked so happy for you. "I have to go, but I hope you guys can enjoy the other announcements happening." You swiftly kissed Seb, which sent the crowd into another spiral of applause, and almost ran off stage to hug your very supportive friends.

Chris Hemsworth was the one who pulled you into the tightest hug you had every felt. "One day your little tike and my little kids could be best friends and holiday in Sydney." You felt him chuckle at the thought of the distant future.

You let yourself separate and hug other people. It was an amazing experience to share with the world the excitement of your little one. As you watched Sebastian and Anthony release their show, you let a hand caress the bump that brought you so much happiness.

[veridium]

saturday morning’s alright for fighting (round two)

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT. 

Well, who’s ready for part two of the friendship fight-a-thon? I am! Because I hella wrote it. Get ready for a continuation of the haphazard comedic relief that is our college au fic. Special thanks to @bitchesofostwick for finding the perf title, so perf I had to re-use it. Enjoy!

fic masterpost here!

-- Everything was so perfect.

The kiss -- the very first kiss. The kiss that turned into more kissing, and then laughter, and then more bickering. The good kind. More stargazing: Cassandra’s favorite constellation is Perseus because of his heroic myth, which makes both sudden and complete sense. Olivia has a more obvious choice: she loves Venus, the north star. She brushes it off saying it’s because she’s vain and basic, but Cassandra counters by saying it’s because she’s so driven. Focused.

After that, a packed up car driving back down the canyon. Denny’s at 2am, of all places: Cassandra ordering a sandwich and Olivia sinking her teeth into a cheeseburger the size of her face. More bickering, this time about how to best get ketchup out of the Heinz bottle: the hand-slapping or the knife method. Ketchup splattering all over the table, then Olivia sticking a thumb of it on Cassandra’s chin. Cassandra throwing a crinkled up napkin at her. More driving. Driving nowhere in particular, because it felt so good just to be behind the wheel and talking. Stopping for gas, because, that’s what happens when you do nothing but drive.

As the sky is lifting from the midnight darkness, they pull back onto campus. Unexpectedly, Cassandra invites her back rather than part ways like they have before. It’s under the pretense of continuing conversation, but, Olivia can’t help but feel like she’s accomplished some form of base. One and a half base? One and three quarters? Something like that.

There was sitting on the couch. Talking again. Talking and then...not talking. But it’s all so well-meaning, so unfettered. Cassandra keeps saying she’s going to leave and sleep in her own bed, but for some reason she can’t bring herself to leave. Instead, sitting turns into leaning, and leaning turns into laying, and laying turns into ‘resting my eyes’ while still debating the merits between the Pride & Prejudice movies.

The last thing she hears is Cassandra mumbling “Objectively, Collin Firth is the superior actor,” in a raspy, half-unconscious slurring of syllables. It’s simply wonderful. Then...sleep.

Sleep, and it’s with her. With her, and on a couch, no less. Perfect.

Cut to no more than a few hours after they snuck in, and she’s the first to open her eyes. Something she’s used to being an early riser. Only, it’s not to the tranquility she wanted. She expected to lull into consciousness, find out whether her or Cassandra ended up winning the limited battle for big spoon, and relishing in the newness of it all. Easing into it, slowly, and nicely. No, no -- she wakes up to Cullen, standing there, face flush.

When their eyes meet it’s like that scene from Jurassic Park, where the hunter is in the forest with his gun aimed at the velociraptor he thinks he’s got on lock, only to look over his shoulder and find her breathing down his neck. The poor man going “clever girl” before his face gets mauled. That’s the way Cullen looks. As he should.

Sliding carefully out of an arm hooked over her waist -- dammit, Cassandra won big spoon -- Olivia is already glaring at him. But the guy starts cussing in shock. Cussing. She knows then that the worst she can do is scare him into fleeing, or yelling. Because it’s bad enough that he’s seen them. He knows, which means it’s a fragile grapevine between him and Ellinor. That must be avoided at all costs.

She whisper-threats. “Cullen...don’t be hasty, it’s not...”

He only stutters some more, stepping back towards the hallway from whence he came. He’s retreating, but to where? That’s too easy. Too--

“Cullen?” An all-too-familiar, under-caffeinated voice.

Oh, fuck me. The grape vine is here.

“Don’t you dare!” she goes straight to the aggression, but the bastard breaks for it. Yelling ‘no’ over and over. She goes from hesitant, to leaping up and over the coffee table. Fine, so at last it’ll be the battle for supremacy, soccer jock vs. dancer brat. Her time has come. She’s after him and the smell of candy and man odor in his wake, until things just...get a tad...out of control.

Cut once again to about 10 minutes later, probably less than that, and Cassandra has lead her outside by the hand so they can ‘talk about this’. An act that stalls her desire to press the eject button on the entire situation. Out in the hall is not enough, though; she has to go outside. She needs air. So, she walks on ahead with Cassandra following her until they are down and out the building, cutting around back to a patch of landscaped grass and a tree. How idyllic. This place is so fucking idyllic, I don’t even want to know how much they pay per semester.

“Ugh!” she exclaims, turning around and falling ass-backwards into the grass. It’s early. Too early.

Cassandra, meanwhile, stands beside Olivia’s bare feet. “It goes without saying, but that could have been handled a lot better, don’t you think?”

Olivia rests her wrists over her eyes and grimaces. “If that son of a--”

“Olivia.”

She growls, and squirms a bit. “I told him not to!”

“You chased him down and pinned him to his own area rug, is what you did.”

“I was only trying to stop a horrible situation from happening, and look! Here we are!” She lets her hands fall, and pouts as she looks up at Cassandra who is rather unimpressed by all the dramatics. Because, well, of course she is.

However, when their gazes combine, Cassandra reaches out a hand. “Come on, get up.”

“No, I’m one with the dirt right now. I’m dirt girl.”

“Don’t make me turn my team captain voice on you.”

She closes her eyes, and takes a breath. Now is not the time to comment on how scared and turned on that makes her. “What, ‘dirt girl’ not as attractive?”

In spite of her mouthiness, Olivia takes her hand and gets up. They stand close, within holding distance. But that’s not the point. There are bigger concerns than doing that thing with someone you’ve just started doing...romantic...stuff with, where you feel clumsy and easily distracted by their presence. Not the time. If only she wasn’t going straight to hell about the audacity her best friend has in judging her for her decisions while expecting impunity in her own.

The thought causes her to scowl and look off to the side. “There was supposed to be a process. I was supposed to...to do things a certain way. There is a way to do things, and he keeps...he…”

“You can’t keep blaming Cullen for the changes happening in your own friendship. I know he has been irresponsible at times. But so have all of us. I don’t think he’s your biggest issue.”

Everything was so perfect. Now, in last night’s jeans and knotted bedhead, and surely unsavory morning breath from shoving a burger in her mouth at 3 in the morning, it is anything but. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and whatever the fuck else.

Olivia sucks on her teeth. Dammit, she had to go and find a woman with sense. A fatal decision. Finally, a sigh -- a bitter one -- and she looks up at Cassandra standing loyally in front of her.

“Are you sure I can’t just keep blaming him?”

She shrugs. “In theory, you could. But you definitely can’t keep accosting him in his own home.”

“I wasn’t accosting him, I--”

“That was putting it lightly.”

She scrunches her mouth as the memory of flailing through the air and onto his back -- getting way closer in contact to him than she ever thought would happen. The adrenaline mixed with humiliation, and one of his hairs getting caught in her mouth.

“Fine. Okay.”

“You should take this up with Ellinor and handle it. It seems like she’s going to want answers.” She makes things sound so simple. So straightforward.

“...Have you been this sympathetic all along, or are you just like this between the hours of 6-9am?”

Cassandra smirks again. “What does it matter?”

“Because...I was going to try my luck at asking for a hug.” She asks with a weakness that breaks from the anger and frustration she’s exuded all morning. To her relief, Cassandra opens her arms and pulls her in, nice and easy while Olivia cradles her arms between their chests. She’s strong, but not suffocating. It doesn’t feel forced, to be held by her. It’s so easy to just rest her forehead against the side of her neck and close her eyes off from the world. Now this is the shit. None of this circus, sitcom nonsense. It’s perfect again.

Cassandra’s chin lowers against her. “Who taught you how to hold someone in a headlock, anyway?”

“I went through a WWE phase.”

A brief, gentle laugh. “Another surprise.”

“That’s not even the half of it. Shit. I hate that our morning’s been ruined. That we didn’t get to just...you know...” she tries, but her thoughts inevitably become scrambled. The whole point of the morning was to enjoy things as they come. They’d never get their first morning waking up next to each other back. In that way, perhaps she is a bit jealous of Ellinor: her ‘firsts’ with Cullen were to themselves. Well, maybe not quite. There were the phone calls, and the panic texts, and the party...and...well, okay, it’s all fucked.

Why are they like this?

“Come on,” Cassandra says, taking her hand, “there’s still a morning to be had. Maybe they are still there, and you two can fix things. The I can tell you about my MMA phase.”

“MMA phase?”

“Yes, my MMA phase. That I’m still sort of going through, but, yeah. Especially now that the season is winding down.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sports.” Olivia mutters, nonplussed about the mention of a hobby she’s heard not one word about before. A rather badass and intimidating hobby that likely means Cassandra doesn’t just act like she could kick everyone’s ass -- she actually can. As much as she wishes to get lost in contemplating that, it can’t block out the dread of coming back to the seen of the crime. What is she gonna do, anyways? Walk back in, see Ellinor fuming so much that the fiery gates of hell look like a half-broken electric blanket in comparison, and try again. Fix things? Okay, sure.

Cassandra is wise, but she doesn’t know Ellinor. She also  doesn’t know Ellinor and Olivia when things are bad. Their vulgar senses of humor and knack for dodging feelings aren’t the only similarities they have.

That wisdom is consoling enough that she follows her back to ground zero. Turns out when they get inside, the suite is empty like a crypt, indicating that they must have also abandoned ship. So much for fixing things. Faced with anticlimax, Olivia goes to the coffee table where her phone still is. Like a hopeful fool she checks it, only to find some messages in group chat. That, and one missed call from Ellinor. The vibrating tone she heard right before she woke up to Cullen. Old news.

Cassandra hangs back in the kitchen for some reason or another, only the sound of clinking and water coming through a faucet. This provides Olivia a minute or two of aimlessly searching through Instagram and Twitter. Soon after, Cassandra enters with two glasses of water, one held out. Matching, tinted blue glassware.

“Here.”

Olivia alots a smile and takes it, and Cassandra returns to the couch on the far corner. She tucks her legs under her and resting one arm along the back cushions, and is patient. Patient and steady. It’s a wonder whether she is less patient with all this mess than she lets on. I couldn’t blame her.

“I’m sorry about causing so much drama. I know you try to avoid it.” Her feet scuffle across the short, clean carpet as she comes over to sit beside her. Cross-legged, squarely on the middle cushion.

Cassandra taps her finger against her water glass rim, but she’s otherwise unphased. “It’s not my favorite thing getting yelled at, accused of seduction...or having a finger waved at me, for that matter. But it only took a minute of being around you and Ellinor to know nothing with you two is half-assed.”

“Well, almost nothing. We…” she hesitates, her stomach aching with remorse, “we’re really bad about recycling sometimes.”

“In that case, I’ll call the UN and convene and investigation.”

Olivia coughs up a giggle, and nudges her with her shoulder before taking another, longer sip. She didn’t lie last night when she said Cassandra knows how to make her laugh. Ironically, at times, but still. Sitting together is nice. Being alone is nice, too.

“You laugh, but really, you should be recycling.”

“I know, okay, it’s just with the numbers and the...shapes…”

Cassandra laughs smartly, disarming the discursive tension just as easily as she built it. “Don’t worry, I have a diagram in the kitchen we use. Cullen is just as clueless; it’s been three months and he still doesn’t follow the feeding schedule for the worms in our compost.”

“You have a compost?”

“I mean...yes. Doesn’t most everyone?” Cassandra blinks, genuinely invested in this tangent topic.

Olivia holds her glass closer to her lips, concealing her white lie. “Uh...yeah. Yeah, definitely.”

Cassandra buys it, or maybe just doesn’t elect to question it, and sets her glass down. “I also think we should talk about what all this means for us, while we have the chance.”

Choking again, this time with water up her nose, but Olivia tries her best to hold herself together. “Uh--agh!” another cough, “Um, yeah. I mean yes. I…”she sets her glass beside Cassandra’s, wiping her mouth and nose with her wrist. A moment, and she straightens up all prim and proper, how she should have answered the first time.

“Yes. I agree. Compost is very consequential to...to things.”

Cassandra bites back a second laugh. “Still getting pummeled by the learning curve, are we?”

“No!”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. In fact, I was planning on bringing it up anyway. You know, like I did last night, all on my own, in candlelight.”

Cassandra raises a brow, and nods in a mocking sort of way. “Well, allow me to take some of the weight off of your enormous obligation, then.”

“What are your stipulations, Pentaghast?”

They eye each other, both out of harmless need to determine just how the other feels without asking and being awkward. Cassandra’s good at being collected, but it’s not all there is to her. The learning curve is difficult for them both, she needs to keep reminding herself of that.

Priming to go first, Cassandra folds her arms. “I don’t do non-monogamy. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with it, but it’s not my style. If you want to date me, I want to be pursued. I want something intentional, something ideal. And...I would like us to have some sort of routine, or at least, a commitment to spend time together throughout the week. I know we both have demanding schedules. I just want to actually get to know each other, like last night.”

Olivia grins, but does her best to keep still. Something says to keep still, for some reason. A pregnant pause, and it hits her that Cassandra is looking at her expectantly for some sort of affirming answer. Like an nod, or a ‘yeah, me, too.’ Shaking her head and blinking fast, she catches up. I need to be better about this.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She says it honestly. It does sound good; though, in delivery, she sounds rather like a fish out of water.

Cassandra’s gaze narrows. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I...agh, okay,” she gives in, and leans more in her direction. “I’m not very used to this. I don’t think I’ve ever...actually, I know I haven’t ever had this kind of talk with someone. It’s all just kind of been go-with-the-flow. But I mean it, I’m on the same page about the whole ‘not seeing other people’ and ‘spending time together’ clauses.”

“Hm,” Cassandra replies, “and here I was thinking I was following your methods.”

“What?”

“Communication was your biggest issue between us. I thought this would be something you’d expect. I like for things to be clear, but, I’ve never done it this way, either.”

That makes Olivia smirk: the look on Cassandra’s face as she’s trying her best to make it all come together. She cares so much, even if she doesn’t always show it. She’s learning that. “I’m a mess of contradictions, I’m afraid.” She bends her knee up, foot planted on the cushion. “I appreciate the effort, though. Maybe it is best for us to have things be established.”

“I agree,” Cassandra smiles, Andy her arms soften their folded shape. “So, do you have any rules?”

“Uh--” she begins, but is interrupted by the buzzing of her phone. Immediately, her mind goes to Ellinor, and the possible message of salty apology. Hopefully. But, it’s actually someone she’d least expect to hear from this early on a Saturday morning:

Dorian: Elle Woods. Answer my texts about my party next weekend or lose my indifferent affection for you forever.

Shit. God dammit. Halloween. Halloween is next week. Which means one of her and Ellinor’s legendary weekend marathons of havoc is nigh. They are not that often, but they are almighty. She has to fix things before then because this is too important. Too sacred. An occasion where their ‘ride or die’ dynamic really shines. These kinds of weekends are what separate the babies from the badasses — an alternative way of putting the original phrase, developed when Olivia felt it pandered too much to toxic masculinity.

“Fuck,” she admits under her breath, replying with feverish thumbs.

“You okay?” Cassandra asks, concerned as she leans up.

“Wha--? Oh yeah, yes,” eyes still on her phone. “I’m just...plans, next weekend. I had to confirm with...um, hey, it’s not…” she hits send, and tosses the phone over her shoulder. “Done!”

Cassandra shakes her head with a soft smile. “If you say so.”

“Yes. Anyway, we were talking. You asked a question?”

“I asked about your rules.”

“Right!” She laughs anxiously, running a hand through her hair she does her best to feign easy-breezy. “Uh, well, ditto on everything you said. Which is good. And I mean...I don’t know how visible you’d like us to be?”

“I guess that is a concern when it’s…”

“When it’s us. Yeah.” Women. Queer. Gay? Who knows. The whole concept of debating labels feels like one punch in the gut too far to take this.

Cassandra bunches a shoulder. “I am not one for displays, so.”

“Oh! I’m not. I mean, I’m not into public stuff that much, either.” Which is true. But it’s one of those things where the catch-all seems a bit harsh: sucking face in front of a perfectly good and busy hallway? That’s a hell no. But hugging before classes, holding hands...those little things. They’re absolutely disgusting to witness, but kind of neat to experience.

Ugh, I’m already softening into a milk toast. Maybe Ellinor is right, I am a hypocrite. In more ways than one.

“Then that’s easy to reso—“

“You can! Uh!” Olivia gets it in before the door closes on the subject, “I meant...um, hah. You can like, hold my hand or whatever. When we’re out. And like...kissing isn’t embargoed, as long as it’s not...gross, you know?” Her smile feels more like an embarrassed grimace. But she’s trying. She’s...well, she’s trying something. The brusque nature of her response puts her on edge, though, and the last thing she wants is to put Cassandra on that same edge. That would make this more off-balance than it already is.

Yet, Cassandra responds with faithfulness, and extends her hand to hers. Their fingers lace and fit well together. So well. “You’re getting better at this,” she remarks. All her anxious thoughts shut up for just one freaking second, for once. Thank goodness.

Olivia lets her guard down again, pulse thumping between her ears dissipating. “Thank you...um, other than that, I think those are so good starter rules, you think?”

“I agree. We shouldn’t overthink things too early. Just be considerate and respectful of each other.”

“Yeah...yeah!” She holds her hand tighter. “Good. Exactly. And if something comes up, we can bring a new rule to the floor. Like Parly-Pro!” Oh man, she really just outed herself as a recovering Model UN kid, didn’t she? Cassandra agrees with a hum, but the knowing look on her face says it all: the geek secrecy days are numbered. Everything’s going to come to light soon enough. She was already wanting to brag while they driving that her car’s secret nickname is Anderson COOPer.

Rest in pieces, dignity.

Yikes-factor aside, though, they are having a rather auspicious start. It’s almost like this is always what could have been, if Olivia had just let it be. If she had just...listened to Ellinor whenever she said to get out of her own way, or be sensible, or talk it out. Dammit.

“Agh, you’re right,” Olivia looks away, “I have to figure this out with Ellinor. Today. Unfortunately that means you only have a limited time with my esteemed presence,” she says, and leans herself up and against her ever-so-demurely. Cassandra grins, but the shyness is betrayed by her hand going down along Olivia’s side. It pulls her in more, until she’s nearly hoisted into her lap.

“Something I am happy to take advantage of,” she coaxes, their lips wandering into dangerously close proximity. “...as long as you finally let me shower.”

Olivia gives a pointed look, and she wraps her arms around her neck. “Has that been what you’ve been after this whole time?”

“Of course. That, and one other thing.” Her hand goes to the small of Olivia’s waist, bringing her in for the third...fourth? Fifth. Fifth kiss ever. It’s sleepy and sweet, like how ‘good morning’ should have been. How it is, now.

Luckily the eventual shower is a brief break in things, and Olivia is happy to wait on the couch while Cassandra does her thing. Truth be told, she’s envious; wearing the same outfit for 12 hours and not having a chance to so much as pop a mint in her mouth is getting weird. Five minutes pass, and Cassandra emerges dressed in black long yoga pants and a tank top, hair all disheveled from being freshly rubbed up by the towel in her arm.

“Cullen texted me just now. He said they’re on their way back from the market to make breakfast.”

Olivia frowns, the excitement of seeing Cassandra all fresh and in a tank top fading too quickly. “That was...kind of him.”

“He’s probably trying to avoid another attack.” She comes over and sits back on the armrest closest to her. “What do you want to do?”

“Charter a plane to Argentina, assume aliases, and become a farmer.”

Cassandra scoffs. “And what would you say if someone who looked like you said that in class?”

Olivia stares back, putting up a non-verbal fight, but it’s a wash. She huffs air through her nose and looks away. “I would say stop being complicit in neo-colonial idealization of indigeneity and globally-compounded poverty. Fuuuck.” She rubs her eyes closed. There’s no escape.

“Mhm.”

“Look, I never said I was perfect,” she mumbles. “Ruuugghh, okay, I have a plan. I need your help, though.”

“My help?”

“Yeah. It’s going to be very complex, and very covert. It needs to be executed with meticulous timing and commitment. Agility and strength. Grace and grit.” She gets off the couch and stands with feet wide and hands on her waist like some superhero pose. Initiative renewed.

“Alright. I’m in.” Cassandra nods and shrugs without so much as a question or concern. Time would tell whether she’d regret that, but, it’s nice she trusts me.

--

Soon after the game plan is shared, Cassandra texts Cullen asking to let them know when they’re close, saying they want to rest as much as possible before leaving the suite for the day. So, when he does as he’s advised, they get into position.

Step one. Cassandra, holding the lock back when Cullen’s keys turn, He tries and tries and tries, but no avail. Voices, both his and Ellinor’s cursing the lock. They might have a crap load of groceries in their hands. No matter. He starts knocking roughly on the door for someone, anyone to come unlock it at the off chance they stayed put.

Cassandra, grins and steps back, waiting a moment so as to give herself plausible deniability. Then, while Olivia hides behind her -- petiteness comes in handy sometimes -- she opens it.

“Cullen, Ellinor,” she greets, holding it open only so much as to show herself, and not the sneaky blonde behind her.

“Ugh, Cassandra, what the hell is with the lock?” Cullen asks. The sounds of plastic bags hissing confirms her suspicion that he’s carrying precious cargo.

“Must have gotten stuck again. That is what happens when one doesn’t send the maintenance request when they said they would.” Crap, she does know how to act. No noise from Ellinor means she must just be staring daggers at her -- a classic move from her playbook, under the chapter: ‘When Ellinor is Mad At You,’ and subsection ‘...But She’s Had Her Morning Caffeine.’

“Hey!” Cullen protests at once, “I did--”

“Yes, yes, I know. You ‘tried.’”

“I did. And where is--

“Come inside, there is nothing to worry about.” She steps back, making Olivia press against the wall behind the door. This has to be perfectly done. One mistake, and it all would be over. A matter of life or death, of peace or war. She watches as the light on the floor is darkened by Cullen’s tall shadow, and then...boom.

Time to strike.

In one swift and chaotic motion Olivia reveals herself, yanking Cullen in via an arm around his and using all her bodyweight. The guy stumbles forward a few steps, just enough for her to slide on past and through the door, pushing a very death-glare-giving Ellinor back out into the hall. Cassandra does her last sworn duty and shuts the door behind her, thereby sequestering the pairs of friends.

Ellinor falls back, holding a bag that swings at her side. “W-what!? What the hell! Olivia!”

“Ellinor I--” she’s cut off by the sound of a guy yelling behind her, muffled through doors. You’d swear the guy just watched his girlfriend get left out to die in some oncoming natural disaster.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!” Ellinor presses, tossing the bag onto the floor with a clunk. She must not have cared very much for whatever was in there. Rest in pieces. She’s already turning beet red again.

“Ellinor, would you just calm down for a moment? We have to--”

“You’re the one pulling all this, Liv. First you take down Cullen Sunday-Night-Smackdown style in front of me, and now you’re locking me out of the house with groceries? Can’t you just--”

“I’m not locking you out! I planned this so we’d have a moment alone, okay? That’s all!”

“You could have, I don’t know, texted me or called like a normal fucking person! And you took her up to the canyon?! You didn’t say shit about that! Your secret hideout!?”

“I had to--hey! It is so not my secret hideout!”

Ellinor rolls her eyes so much her head goes with them. “Liv you tried to keep pointing out plants and animals that weren’t there so you’d think we were in the desert! You thought I’d believe a fucking hydrant was a cactus?!”

“Yeah…! Well…! I…” her eyes search around with furious guilt, “I-I was just wanted to create an experience, okay!?”

“You’re so full of shit! And now you’re taking me hostage and for what?!”

“I’m not kidnapping you, bitch! I thought this would be faster!”

“No! Not okay! I just want my damn bacon and cinnamon rolls! It’s Saturday morning and I am running on hate and java syrup! Let me have my fucking day in peace!”

“You’ve had 84 years with Cullen to have a day in peace! Where was my good first morning with Cassandra, huh? Nothing says budding romance like waking up to the boy from Home Alone all grown up and still making that face!”

Ellinor growls like she’s some possessed, drunk pomeranian. “It has not been 84 years you meme trash bastard, it’s been less than a week! I was having a perfectly great day until you decided to--”

“You just had to make this about you and your opinions and I only wanted--”

“You could have just told me the truth instead--”

“I got scared you were shutting me out, and you wouldn’t be…”

Suddenly, they stop and look at each other. It all aligns together into one common thread. An angry, anxious, scared-that-the-best-friend-won’t-approve thread. Ellinor’s furious face falls into a more melancholic one, and it undoubtedly reflects the change in Olivia’s as well. The silence says more than any of the day’s arguing ever could; even the other side of the front door has gone radio silent.

“When were you going to tell me what happened?” Ellinor asks finally, defeated.

“Today. I swear!”

“But you weren’t answering me. You wouldn’t even tell me when we were in the dorm wh--”

“I wanted what you wanted, Ellinor! Space to process it. It’s...it’s a big deal for me, okay?!”

“I know that! I know! Do you think anyone has any better idea than I do?!” She gets heated, but only for a passing second. “I mean, it’s you and Cassandra. You...you used to daydream about that with me on the soccer field. And now it’s real.”

“Just like you with Cullen! But I had to watch you and him and it was...it was...” Olivia sighs, “look, maybe I was also a bit bitter that Cullen was in the picture. So maybe we’re just nervous for different reasons and we just have to take a second and calm down, and like, not jump the gun for once in our lives because I love you and I want to share this with you and not fight about it like heathens!”

Ellinor’s lip pouts a bit. A surefire sign Olivia’s gotten to her. She never pouts like that unless...well, this kind of shit happens. “Liv...I would never ditch you, you know that right?”

“Yeah, I know. So did Cassandra. Or, well, I fixed it, too. It was a mutual sort of thing.”

“Mutual? She apologized, though, right?”

“Yes! Many times. And Cullen...?”

“Yes!”

Olivia puts her hands to her hips. “Well then. Good.”

“Yeah. Good.” This stand-off is less wrathful than the first one of the day was. Less wrathful, and shorter, as Olivia is the first to devolve into hunched shoulders and whining.

“Ellinor-I’m-so-sorry-okay-I-didn’t-mean-to-almost-kill-Cullen…” she rushes to her, clinging on like a desperate koala. Ellinor knows better than to be surprised; they’ve been here too many times before. She throws her arms around her and starts whining right back, face buried in Olivia’s shoulder.

“No-I-should’ve-been-more-understanding-ahh-why-am-I-such-an-asshole-I-should-be-saying-sorry—“

“Nononono-it’s-my-bad—“

“No!“There’s a bit more of this, but mostly just whining and dancing around in a death grip hug. Depending on who’s listening it either sounds like beautiful friendship, or battling toddlers.

After about a minute of mania they come back to a standstill, still holding onto each other. They’d always hold onto each other. Because they’re idiots, mostly. But also, that’s just what best friends do.

“Hey,” Olivia whispers, their heads both hidden in each other’s shoulders.

Ellinor whines one last time. “Yeah?”

“What...are we going to do about—“

“Halloween. Fuck if I know. I already invited Cullen.”

Olivia snickers, and holds on. “I haven’t even told Cassandra.”

“For fuck’s sake, L--.”

“I knowwwww I know. Just shhh. One more moment where everything is okay.”

Ellinor grumbles again, but doesn’t cease her side of the embrace. She needed this just as much as Liv did. The party can wait.

Cassandra and Cullen, on the other hand, cannot.

“E—ELLINOR!” Cullen comes bursting out, door swinging wide. He freezes the instant he sees them, and his cheeks turn pink.

Ellinor jumps back. “It’s fine, Cullen, we’re fine! Jesus!”

From behind him, Cassandra can be heard sighing. “Now do you believe me?”

“I couldn’t be sure, Cass,” he spits back, before joining them in the hall. Cassandra follows but leans against the doorway rather than cross the threshold.

He’s brave, but not too brave. He won’t put himself in between them, but he does stand at Ellinor’s side. Ready to protect her, as if it was necessary. Ugh. He’s a bastard, but a loyal one. She allows herself to remember why she liked him in the first place.

“Hi,” Olivia offers, looking tough. That is, until a glance at Cassandra watching with nothing but faith in her that she’ll do the good thing. It’s effective already.

“I’m...sorry, Cullen. My behavior was inappropriate and irrational. I shouldn’t have chased you. And yelled at you. And...tackled you to the floor. Or...put you into a headlock...or called you Rutherfu--”

“Hey! I, uh,” he interrupts, hand going up by his head, “it’s...not a big deal, Olivia. Don’t sweat it.”

“B-but I--”

“No, we’re good, don’t worry. Really. I would just appreciate a time and place set up before our next match-up, okay? So I can get myself warmed up.”

She looks at him with suspicion, ready to call him out. But then Ellinor slips her hand around his bicep and leans into him. A look of grateful approval on her face in the form of a gentle grin and day-dreamy eyes. He’s really not sweating it, because he has what he truly wants. Rather, who. He shoots a look at Ellinor and grins, it’s all too mushy to let go. He’ll have compassion for Olivia as long as it matters to Ellinor. That much is already certain. It is a precarious and formidable power that must be wielded with responsibility. Ugh.

As if it couldn’t get any more like an after school special on resolving playground tiffs, Cassandra is off to the side, looking on with a endearing, approving smile. She’s right. They’re all adults. Or, at least most of the time. When it counts.

Banishing her remaining ego, Olivia lets her arms fall, and tosses up the white flag.

“Okay, Cullen. And...you can just call me Liv.”

[gigglyirwin]

A Merry Little Christmas

Pairing: Ashton x Laura (aka @irwinkitten)

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: I participated in @plainwhiteluke , @flannelpunkcalum , and @dukehoods  5 seconds of swapping christmas challenge and this is my fic for @irwinkitten with love from your secret santa <3

A/N: flashbacks are in italics 

Ashton had woken up long before Laura had. For a while, he laid in bed, his arm still around her waist, propped up on his other arm so he could watch her sleep. She looked so peaceful. He always fell more in love with her, watching her sleep and being able to pinpoint all the freckles and dots on her cheeks. He pulled her hair away from her face, leaving a soft kiss on her cheek before getting up.

He kept the music on the radio low as he worked on breakfast, hoping to surprise her in bed. He glanced towards his living room at the presents that filled the bottom of their tree. There weren’t many but there didn’t need to be. They both had given each other gifs every year, even the first year they had been together when they had only been officially dating for a month and a half.

“I know we never talked about gifts, but I wanted to get you something,” Laura said, handing Ashton the small wrapped box.

Ashton let out a relieved sigh, pulling a box out from his coat pocket. They both laughed. “I know we haven’t been together for long, but I saw this and immediately thought of you,” Ashton admitted shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ashton opened his gift first, seeing a few different rings. He had been wearing a bunch of them lately so she found two that she thought he’d like.

“These are awesome, Laura,” he said, looking up at her with a smile. He pulled one out and put it on his middle finger, then put the second one on his pointer finger. “Wow. I love these, they look so cool!”

He decided to wear them for the rest of the day, turning the one around his middle finger every so often. She opened her gift, gasping. The box held a gold necklace; it was like three necklaces in one. The first one was somewhat of a choker that had diamonds spaced evenly apart on the whole chain. The second hung down a little farther, with a rose in the center. The third would hang down her chest and was a simple gold block. “Thank you, Ashton. I love it.”

He offered to help her put it on, coming around behind her chair and pushing her hair off to one side as he clipped the necklace in place. She fixed her hair again, looking down at the necklace with a wide smile. “I love it,” she repeated.

Ashton plated breakfast, putting the leftovers in the fridge. He knew they were going to have friends and some family coming over throughout the day, so he figured if anyone got hungry he’d warm up what he had made.

Laura was still asleep when he entered the room. He set both plates on the nightstand, leaning on the bed and pressing kisses to the side of her face. “Wake up, love,” he hummed, cuddling up against her back and shaking her slightly. “Wakey wakey eggs and bakey,” Ashton cooed.

Laura let out a quiet yawn, followed by a giggle. “Morning, Ash,” she whispered and Ashton responded by plastering more kisses along her face.

“I made breakfast.”

She hummed, “Smells good,” and turned around to bury her head in his chest.

“I think Santa Clause came too,” Ashton joked, brushing back her bright pink hair. “I saw a whole bunch of presents under our tree.”

Laura laughed, kissing his neck and collarbone. “You sure it wasn’t you up late wrapping all those gifts?” she teased.

“No way. It was for sure Santa.”

Laura sat up in bed, followed by Ashton. He leaned over her when she was sitting up, kissing her gently, yet he let it linger. His hand came up to cup her cheek, only pulling away when his lungs were begging for air. “Merry Christmas, darling.”

They ate in bed and talked about that day's plans. It was still pretty early, not even 9 o’clock yet, and while they didn’t have anywhere to be until later that night, they knew they were going to have people in and out of the house so right after breakfast, they shared a warm shower and brushed their teeth together while standing in front of the giant mirror of their master bathroom.

Ashton went back to the bedroom to get dressed, then returned to the bathroom to finish drying his hair and fix it so it looked good. Any other day he had off, he wouldn’t bother taming the mane and would just deal with the bed head, or the freshly showered hair look, but today he put product in it and slicked it back in its usual way, leaving one little curl on the front of his forehead.

After getting herself ready, Laura headed to the bedroom to get dressed. She found a box on the bed, paired with a huge bow and a note that said: “to Laura, love Ashton.”

“Ash!” She called, picking up the piece of paper. Ashton came into the bedroom with a shy smile on his face.

“It’s just something for you to wear today.” Ashton leaned against the doorframe and waited until she opened it, his own smile growing when he saw hers form too. Inside was a red flowing skirt with a bow tied on the waist and a long sleeve white shirt that closely resembled a knitted sweater but was much more lightweight.

She shooed him out of the room as she changed, listening to him mumble about how unfair it was just because of how many times he’d seen her naked. But she wanted it to be a surprise when she walked out in it. After fixing the outfit in the mirror, she opened the door to him leaning on the wall now.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” he gushed, pulling her in by the waist for a much more heated kiss that was very unfortunately interrupted by the doorbell.  

--

Ashton’s bandmates at all joined him at his house. After trading gifts with them, they hung around. Laura had cooked them a light lunch knowing that each of them were doing their own extravagant dinner for Christmas evening. The band loved Luara just as much as Ashton loved her and were always happy to be around her. All of them joked that if Ashton didn’t put a ring on her eventually, they were going to shoot their shots. The truth was that neither of them were in a rush to get engaged or married, but Ashton had everything planned out, he was just waiting for the date to come around.

As a Christmas present to Ashton, Laura had fixed the strings on his guitar and Ash was eager to play. Luke was the one who suggested they go live on Instagram. They were sure that not many people would show up but decided to anyway. It turned into an impromptu acoustic set, with Ashton playing guitar and then taking suggested songs that came through the comments.

“What about this one,” Ashton began, playing a new chord on the guitar. He began to sing: “have yourself a merry little Christmas. Let your heart be light.”

“From now on, our troubles will be out of,” Luke joined, and the four of them harmonized perfectly to the word ‘sight’. Luke picked up on the second part of the verse and the boys did the same thing with the word ‘away’. Laura snuck pictures and short videos of the little live show, her smile never fading as she listened to them sing.

--

“Got one more gift for you,” Ashton mentioned as he and Laura had crawled into bed together that night.

“Ashton, you’ve spoiled me enough already,” she laughed, situating herself in bed when Ashton handed her his phone. Pulled up on it was flight information, a flight to New York that left on the 29th and returned on the 4th. “Really?” She gasped.

Ashton nodded. “I know we’ve been before, but we’ve never been on New Year’s and it’s beautiful during that holiday.” But truth be told, Ashton had a surprise for her on that day. He was planning on proposing to her at midnight, right in front of the ball drop. He had been keeping it a secret for nearly a year now, hiding the ring in his sock drawer or in his bag when he was touring. He looked at it every so often, sometimes carried it around in his coat pocket when they went out, just in case a far more perfect moment arose, but he knew for sure that he was going to ask her to marry him on New Year’s Day and he was so excited to start this new chapter of their lives together.

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[sailorshadzter]

so when @blvnk-art posted this artwork the other day i almost died so yeah, i went ahead & continued the heartache by writing it out. so please enjoy!! & as always, if you arent following blvnk then you’re missing out on some hella quality hinny art. 

It was June 2 1998

He couldn’t believe that already one full month had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts. It didn’t feel real most days and honestly he found himself to be unwilling to believe just yet that everything was over. That everything was fine. Though he tried his best to hide his fears, his paranoia, he was certain most everyone around him thought he'd lost his mind. That after everything he'd been through, that after all he had seen... Harry Potter had finally gone bloody crazy. The part of him that still yet held onto sense and rationality knew his friends saw it all, but the irrational side of him still thought he might have learned how to hide his feelings. But, Harry was, without a doubt, quite the open book. Besides, try as he might, he was never going to outsmart Hermione.

On this particular day he woke from a nightmare unlike any other. It had been of his friends, of their eyes wide and unseeing from where they had lain on the ground. Voldemort loomed over them, his red eyes gleaming in the blackness as he pointed his wand at him now, the killing curse on his lips…

And then he woke, panting and sweating, tears burning on his cheeks. But then he heard Ron’s snoring and at once his heart began to calm. Cursing at himself, he angrily wiped the tears from his face and rose up from bed, hastily changing into jeans and a clean tshirt. It was early and Ron would not wake for hours yet, giving him time to collect his thoughts before the questions would start. However, it was as his feet touched down on the floor that he realized the kitchen was not empty.

"Oh, Harry... Good Morning." Molly was smiling as she turned to face him from where she stood at the sink, a mug clutched between her hands. The Weasley family matriarch stared at him for several long moments, well aware that the boy had a rough night. His emerald eyes raised to meet her own and Molly felt her heart turnover; she only wished that she could ease his pain. But this was not a boy who spoke so easily, even though he wore his heart upon his sleeve. "Tea, dear?" It was all she could offer him in that moment.

Though a piece of him wanted to decline, wanted to run off and sulk, he felt compelled to nod and take to his usual chair at the table, silent as Molly poured him a steaming cup of tea. After so many years of knowing him, Molly knew how he took his tea as well as she knew her son's own preferences. Though he might not have known it, he was her son, regardless of their lack of blood ties. "Thanks," Harry said, his tenor vocals dry, only deepening her worry of him. She watched as he drank a long sip from the mug, pulling a face when he scalded his tongue on the hot liquid. "You're awake awful early," Harry observed, realizing only then that even Mrs. Weasley was awake long before her usual time. Much like him, she'd been unable to sleep the night before... And when she had, it had been full of dreams she didn't want to see.

"I thought I might start breakfast early," Molly spoke before she could stop herself, offering Harry a smile. "Teddy is coming with his grandmother this morning." At once Harry's stomach turned, the thought of seeing the teething little baby enough to make his skin crawl. It wasn't that he disliked the infant, in fact it was quite the opposite. He loved Teddy more than he could quite put to words, but he felt... Guilty. Teddy would never know his parents because they had died fighting in the war for him. It was because of him that Teddy would grow up an orphan. He could never forgive himself for such a thing. And because of such things, he didn't feel as if he deserved to be around little Teddy. Besides, would the child want to even be close to him someday when he realized the truth? Harry could not stand the thought of growing close to the boy only to have him turn away when he found out just why his parents had died. "Andromeda says he turned his hair purple this week." Molly's voice brought him back and Harry could not help but to smile, a chuckle following as he thought of the bouncing baby with purple hair, a strange sight indeed. Everyone had wondered if Tonk's son would be a Metamorphmagus or would his father's lycan blood run through his veins? But it had became quite apparent from the day he was born that he would not be tainted with the werewolf blood his father had been so worried about.

"That's strange..." Molly suddenly broke from their conversation, a realization dawning on her features as she turned to look at the side door. "Ginny hasn't come back yet." At once, Harry's brain clicked into overdrive, her face swimming before his mind. Where had she gone? It was then that Molly made to push her chair back, clearly prepared to head out to look for her daughter, mumbling about Ginny's usual morning walk. But Harry was on his feet first, draining the last sips of tea from his mug before he turned emerald eyes upon the older woman, as if to silently tell her what he couldn't with words. Molly gave a single nod and sank back into her chair, watching as Harry left the kitchen with a look on his face that he only wore when he thought about her daughter. Molly could not help but to chuckle, drawing her wand and tapping the kitchen table which began to clear itself of their mugs, deciding she'd allow herself a few more minutes of time alone before she might begin to tackle that day's responsibilities. Today, she just needed those few extra minutes.

Outside, Harry stood in the yard, eyes scanning the Weasley land in hopes of spotting Ginny's red hair, such a sight the only thing that could raise his spirits these days. Surprised that he couldn't see her, he decided to follow along the path she usually would have taken (sometimes he joined her, other times he'd watch her from the window of Ron's room) but he still could not find her. A deep set worry was settling in, the cold sense of dread clutching at his heart. Where could she have gone? It wasn't like her to run off, especially if she knew Teddy was coming.

Watching Ginny with Teddy had changed him, in truth. Seeing the way she so carefully cradled the baby, the way she sang softly to him when she thought nobody was listening... It made Harry realize that he wanted to see that in his own future. He knew they were young, that really there was all the time in the world now... But he knew he wanted a family with her. He wanted to watch her hold and love a child of their own creation, a child with red hair and freckles or dark hair and almond shaped eyes. It felt strange to think about a future, when only a month ago he'd been struck by the Killing Curse for the second time in his life. So much had changed in the last month, sometimes it was hard to come to terms with what his life had become.

Across the way, the run down shed that housed most of Arthur Weasley's Muggle items caught his eye and something compelled him to walk towards it. When he opened the door, he blinked, eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness of the building, sunlight streaming in behind him illuminating tables full of broken Muggle clocks and probably hundreds of different batteries. And then his eyes fell upon her; she sat on the floor in the furthermost corner of the shed, her knees drawn up to her chest, face buried in them. For a single moment, Harry could do nothing but stare at her, so small and sad there on the floor, the sound of her quiet sobs breaking his heart into thousands of pieces. Again, here was someone suffering because of him. And it was the one person he loved most in this whole world.

For another moment, he contemplated leaving; Ginny had not heard him come in and suddenly he felt as if he did not deserve to be near her. How could she look at him in this moment? She was crying for the loss of her brother of course and Fred was gone because of him. Fred had died that day a month ago, lost during the Battle of Hogwarts. No, he decided, he did not deserve to comfort Ginny when he was the cause of her pain. But as he turned to go, his hip caught on the corner of a table and one of the broken clocks took a tumble to the ground, alerting her to his arrival. Ginny's gasp caught his ears and he turned back then, their eyes meeting from across the way. And looking into those eyes of hers, suddenly Harry knew that he was wrong... About everything. For the last month, he'd put his own pain first- putting up barriers between him and everyone left that he loved. Guilt pushed him into a world of his own, assuming that those who hurt would not want to be near him. But as Ginny's face crumpled, he knew that there was only one spot he should have been right then: beside her.

And so he moved towards her, dropping down onto the ground at her side, immediately drawing her into his embrace. His arm slid around her, fingers threading through her tousled red hair, the other sliding into place over her knees, offering her the only thing he could in that moment. She turned into him, her own hand clutching for his, her breath catching as her sobs came a little faster. Harry held onto her as she cried, knowing in that moment that Ginny needed him more than he had ever thought. How many times had she cried like this, but on her own? How many times, because he was too worried they were all secretly angry with him, had she cried alone, hiding away because she was always trying to be strong for the rest of them? Who else had spent hours, alone and crying, needing comfort, but his own emotional barriers had prevented him from being there? No more, Harry silently vowed as he pulled her closer, never again would she shoulder her grief alone. None of them would. "Fred?" His voice was warm against her neck as his lips brushed her skin, sending chills down her spine. Unable to speak through her tears, Ginny gave him a simple little nod, breaking his heart all over again. Leaning his head close to hers, Harry squeezed her hand and finally spoke words he'd been holding onto for a month now. "I miss him, too..." He missed them all, in truth. Fred, Remus, Tonks... His parents... Sirius... Dumbledore... He missed them all.

For a little while longer they sat there together, Ginny's head against his shoulder, her sobs gone but all strength stolen from her body. He would have sat there for a thousand years, if it brought her even just an ounce of comfort. But it was Ginny who moved first, sitting up so she could turn to look at him, brown eyes swollen but gleaming in the sunlight that streamed in from the windows. "Teddy's coming today," she said simply, as if this alone was what motivated her to get back on her feet. Harry nodded, following after her as she rose to her full height, running  a hand through her long red locks. "Hey Harry..." She looked up at him and Harry reached out a hand, brushing away a tear that still yet clung to her lashes, eyes softening as they met his. "Thanks." Her smile was almost embarrassed, for this was not the type of girl to cry in front of anyone if she could help it. Harry shook his head, opening his mouth to say it was nothing, but she was moving closer to him, rising up to press her mouth to his, stopping the words before they could come. When she broke the kiss a few moments later, she was smiling again and Harry reached out to take her by the hand. Together they stepped back out into the morning sunshine, where they would return to the house and he would join his family for breakfast. His family. The only thing he had ever wanted growing up was a real family and the Weasley's had more or less adopted him several years ago, had they not? They were the closest thing he'd ever had to a family and Harry could not believe he'd allowed himself to be so blind these last few weeks.

It was a month since the war had ended and while not everything yet made sense to him... This one single thing did. Squeezing Ginny's hand a little tighter, he felt his heart skip a beat when she squeezed back, reminding him that above everything else... He still had people to love. And he still had people that loved him back. He had to be there for them and needed to allow them to be there for him. And this beautiful girl beside him, with her hand in his, was the most important person in his life... He would never allow her or anyone else to suffer alone again.

[cedarmoons]

get a little love

fandom: the arcana wc: 4.5k pairings: pre-game asra x fem mc, hella nsfw; mentions of asra x nadia, asra x julian, and mc x julian (@ devs give us a poly route already jesus). part of the handle with care universe, but can be read alone.

it’s asra’s bday today,,, so you know i gotta be a ho! it’s what he would want, tbh. happy birthday to the #1 magician of my heart! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

[read on ao3]

get a little love (nsfw)

She wakes to Asra’s body burning just shy of too-hot behind her. He’s pressed against her back, chin on her shoulder, ear pressed to the pulsepoint in her throat, hair tickling her jaw. His fingertips rest on the center of her abdomen, bare palm against naked skin. It burns like a brand, and once again she is reminded how desperate she is for touch, for closeness, for intimacy. Somehow, over the course of the past year, her desire had become a need, a lake unable to be filled.

That need is a starved creature inside her; once treated with kindness it had become ravenous, and every touch feeds it, encourages it. She will get up, and go about her day, and remember the warmth of Asra’s hand on her stomach throughout the day as if it were fresh and new and not an hours-old memory. She will get up and think about how the heat of his chest had bled through her robe and touched her scars. She will get up and think of Asra, flushed and panting, moaning her name.

She does not want to get up.

So she gnaws on her thumbnail until it breaks between her teeth, then gently lowers her hand to rest atop of Asra’s. He shifts and her breath catches, but except for a twitch of his fingers—a twitch she feels acutely, despite the minor brush of his skin over hers—he does not stir.

It is dark. It is either very late, or very early; their nap had robbed the rest of the day from them. Were she facing the window, she would know how much time they had lost, but she is not, and she is reluctant to disrupt Asra simply to confirm her knowledge.

She instead stays as still as possible, enjoying the warmth of him pressed against her, the blazing heat of his hand draped over her navel.

At some point, Asra’s steady breathing hitches, and in his sleep his heartbeat picks up. He sighs against her throat, warm breath tickling her skin, sending a rush of sensation from her scalp to her toes. Her hand tightens around him. Asra makes another sound, one that makes her mouth go dry, and his arm tightens around her.

She should wake him up. Already she can feel him hardening against her, can feel the minute shifts of his hips as his body seeks out more contact. But then Asra sighs her name in his sleep, murmurs please, and she bites her lip, squeezing her thighs together.

She remembers his promise, before they’d fallen asleep—wanna make you come. twice. maybe three times. She doubts that he will manage to fulfill it, but she does not doubt that he will try.

Heat simmers in the pit of her belly, creeping lower, and she swallows, hard, tracing patterns on the back of his hand, very lightly, very aware of every place his body touches hers. Asra makes a slight, desperate sound and presses against her, cock hard against her heated skin. She presses back, biting her lip and letting her eyes fall shut.

With a reedy gasp a few moments later, he wakes up, and she does not dare to breathe. Her heart hammers in the center of her chest, in her fingertips, between her legs. Her whole body is alive, and the night is either very old or very young, and her need for touch, closeness, intimacy is no longer sated. She opens her eyes and looks out into the room.

“Good dream?” she asks, breaking the stillness. Asra laughs and stays still, though his arm remains draped over her, forearm propped on her hip.

“Yeah,” he says, roughly. “I—” he breaks off with a curse, resting his forehead on her shoulder. Without a word, she presses back against him, grinding slowly against his hardness, and he gasps, shifts, gasps again. His breath comes ragged and stuttering; once again, she thinks perhaps it is the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard.

“Tell me,” she bids him, and hears his swallow. She reaches behind her, squeezes his hip, scratches her nails lightly over his skin as she maneuvers her hand to rest against the small of his back. The flesh under her palm is searing, slightly damp with sweat. Were she to cut his skin, she suspects she would see flames instead of blood. He groans against her throat, hips moving in miniscule shifts, careful brushes of contact. She feels every one of them.

“I was—” He stops with a hiss, rocking against her a bit more desperately, now. His hand drags up her stomach to palm her breast, roll her pebbled nipple between his fingers. Ziah whimpers, reaching down between her legs with her other hand. She takes him in hand, swallows at his moan, and moves until his cock rests between her legs, the hard, hot line of it flush against her slit. She’s still wet from last night, and sweat had gathered on her thighs. Asra’s sigh shakes as he begins to move, in and out, in and out.

The air feels too-thick, too hard to breathe properly. All she can focus on is where their bodies meet—chest to back, thigh to thigh, arms and mouths and fingertips. She is dizzy with want, grateful that she is lying down; she suspects her legs would fail her, right now, if Asra were to try to get her to stand up.

Asra presses his face into her hair, pinching her nipple until she arches into his hand. Then he releases her breast, moving his hand to the other one, giving her other nipple similar treatment until she writhes against him. He whispers another curse, rocking between her clenched thighs, and his second hand manages to move downward, pressing down on her own.

“You were?” she prompts, breathless. His warmth, his touch, surrounds her, and she cannot think. “Tell me your dream, sweet.”

It is only a few moments before he collects himself enough to answer, but the absence of his voice feels an eternity.

“I was with you and—” he cuts himself off, moaning, his hips jerking against her in a way she can only think to describe as helpless.

“Nadia?” she guesses, voice already rasping. His desperate gasp and a single buck of his hips are her answer. His aura reaches out to her, trembling and potent in his desire. When she presses her magic against his, a warm, caressing touch that make them both shudder, his breath comes in what almost sounds like a whine.

“Yes,” he whispers, breath hot against her cheek, and he kisses her ear. The confession thrills through her. He kisses her ear, slows his thrusts to a smooth, careful rhythm, hands tightening to a bruising grip on her body. The oath he rasps into her hair is hoarse, wrecked.

She suspects she should feel jealous, or insecure, or hurt, somehow, that he had sought out another during her time at the Lazaret. But all she can feel is longing, a desire to know and love this Nadia as Asra so clearly does. (Besides: she had had Julian, and Asra had had Nadia. He had not been alone; she had not abandoned him; he had been loved, he was loved, he is loved. How wonderful, how lovely that knowledge is.)

She cannot stop her own answering moan, cannot keep herself from moving her head, offering her throat so he may mark her as he pleases. He takes her up on her silent gift, ducking his head, worrying at her throat with his teeth. She gasps when he bites down, eyes closing, already aware that he fully intends to make this bruise impossible to hide except with magic.

“Tell me,” she manages again, and despite the rasp in her voice her request is a demand, firmer than last time. She drags her nails down his thigh, gripping and kneading his flesh before moving to put it at the small of his back, pressing down on his body in time with his own thrusts, directing him. With the hand between her legs, she cups his cock, using her thumb to rub his own fluids into his soft, heated skin, teasing the sensitive slit. Asra bucks, moans, and his exhale is hard and shuddering, as if his lungs had emptied with it.

His hand that covers hers grips her wrist, fingers curling to press against her hammering pulse; its twin has moved back to her stomach, feeling the flex in her muscles as she rubs herself against him. “Tell me,” she orders, squeezing him gently, never hard enough to hurt. Her palm is slick with his arousal.

“We were both?” she prompts again, shuddering when his hand maneuvers beneath hers, spreading the lips of her sex, his longest finger easily finding her clit and starting to rub it in slow circles. Asra’s face is buried in her shoulder, and she lifts her free hand—the one that had been pressed against his lower back, pushing in time with his thrusts—to tangle in his hair, gently pulling his head back. “Asra.”

“Fucking me,” he hisses out, and her mind goes utterly blank. She pictures Asra caught between her and his Nadia, flushed red and panting as he is right now, and the want that sweeps through her makes her breath catch. Behind her, his breath hitches, falls, hitches again. His cock throbs in her hand, once, and his hand stills on her clit, allowing her time to breathe, to think. Her pulse thrums between her legs; her palm is wet with their mixed arousal.

“Mizi,” he breathes, and he is truly desperate now, nearing his end, she can hear it in his pulse and his breath and his voice. His hands spasm on her body. “’M close, Mizi, oh—”

She recovers from that brief mental image and swallows. “No,” she says, voice still hard, commanding, unfamiliar to her but not unwelcome. “No, not that name. Not mine. Hers, sweet.”

“Nadi,” Asra sobs, “Nadi, please, I want—”

“Yes,” Ziah says, and he comes with his teeth in her shoulder, biting hard enough to bruise. His spend fills her palm, splashes out onto her thighs and mound, but by some miracle do not get on the sheets. Asra stays curled against her back, twitching and trembling and undone, breathing hard through his nose. Threads of his hair tickling her skin. She closes her eyes, enjoying his closeness, taking note of how hotly her cheeks burn, how wet she is.

She would, she thinks, very much like to meet this Nadia. Soon.

Once he is soft between her thighs, Asra kisses her shoulder and pulls away, drawing his aura within himself as he does so. She shifts, turning onto her back, uncaring of how her robe splays open, exposing her body to the cool night air. Her hand is sticky. Her nose wrinkles at the sensation. The bed groans as Asra sits up and stands, turning on one of the gas lamps, spilling golden light over the room.

He brings back the same towel that is still wrapped around his Ace of Wands—the name of the toy makes her snort, and he grins at her, a knowing light in his eyes—and uses it to clean her hand, her thighs, using water from a nearby vase. He looks at her fleetingly from underneath his eyelashes, and the upper half of his face, including his ears, are still red.

Ziah catches his hand, brushes the backs of her clean fingers against his cheek until he looks at her. “Are you embarrassed?” she asks. “You needn’t be. Come here, sweet.”

He does, moving slowly, resting his cheek on the pillow beside her. She shifts onto her side, facing him fully. He smiles at her, and though it is close-lipped, his cheeks still dimple. Warmth floods her heart, and her stomach flips at the sight. She leans forward, kissing first his left eye, then his right. She smiles when he laughs, more a tired huff of breath than true amusement, and ducks down to kiss the etches in his skin where his dimples rest, then the corners of his mouth.

Asra catches her chin and lifts his head, kissing her properly. She sighs through her nose after he pulls away, pulling her close. “I love you,” he tells her.

“I know.”

He still looks troubled. “I don’t want you to think that… this changes anything. That this changes us. Nadi is—she’s different. She wasn’t—” he catches himself, mouth turning down into a scowl, before he takes a breath. “I care about her. I care about you. I…” he trails off, lost for words, then frowns. “I’m not explaining myself very well.”

“I am not asking you to choose between us,” Ziah replies, amused.

“You will always be my choice,” he says, unhesitant. “Every time. It’s not about choosing one of you, it’s—I want—ugh. I need to think about it.”

She reaches up again, stroking his cheek, heart thumping when he turns his head and kisses her palm, though he does not meet her eyes. She does not tell him that perhaps she should not be his first concern, his only love. He is so young, still: younger than thirty, if she remembers correctly. Twenty-five? Twenty-six? It does not matter. His life has so much to offer. “Still, I would like to meet her. You love her, and the people love her. I wish to know why. I wish to see why she is your spring.”

Asra smiles at that, smile bright against the night. “You’ll love her,” he promises, voice hushed. “I—I hope you’ll love her. You two might have to warm up to each other first.”

“I hope so, too,” she whispers back. There is a long moment of quiet consideration. His fingers trace an aimless pattern on her hip, the softness of her belly.

He eventually hums, and with a wicked, dimpled grin, says, “I promised you three orgasms.”

He remembers. Of course he does.

She rolls her eyes. “I wish you luck,” she tells him, sincerely.

He touches his chest in mock woundedness, though he’s laughing. “Your lack of faith hurts. It’s hurtful. I’m hurt. Just for that I’ll make it four.” She audibly scoffs and he laughs, leaning forward, his rose quartz pendant falling to dangle above her chest. As he stares down at her, soft affection in his eyes, the amusement fades to seriousness. “Can I touch your back this time?”

Ziah swallows, and after several long moments of deliberation, she nods. Asra grins and sits on his haunches, waiting as she sits up. He kisses her as he takes hold of her robe, gently pushing it down her shoulders to rest at her elbows. He breaks the kiss then and waits, and Ziah takes a deep breath, lifting her arms to free herself of the robe. She wraps her arms around him as he reaches around her and shucks the robe from the bed, letting it flutter to the floor.

He sits back and pulls her into his lap, smiling when her breath hitches, though her legs unfold to wrap around him, knees tucked against his sides and her ankles crossed at the small of his back. Her arms tighten around his shoulders and he moves until his back is to the wall, which forces her legs to spread wider to accommodate the lack of space.

Asra reaches up, smoothing back stray hairs that have come loose from her braid. His other hand moves from her hip to curve around her body. She tenses when his fingertips move up, when his palm presses flat against the center of her back where the worst of her scars are, but after several long moments when his hand does not move, she relaxes, exhaling hard.

Her heart is hammering. “No pain?” Asra whispers.

“No pain,” she tells him. “Only you.”

One day, she will only think of Asra’s hands on her. One day, the scars on her back will not haunt her. She eagerly looks forward to that day. Asra smiles and kisses her, and while she is distracted, he lowers the hand at her cheek to the wet heat between her legs. She gasps at the first brush against her clit, hips shifting into his touch.

“Sensitive?” he asks, with a tone of voice that implies he knows the answer.

“You’re a terrible tease,” she replies, winding a hand in his hair and tugging. Asra snickers, firming his touch, using his hand at the small of her back to help her rock against his hand. It’s an awkward position, one that cannot be easy on his wrist, and after a moment she shifts, getting to her knees. “Better?”

“Perfect,” he murmurs, peppering kisses over her breasts, nuzzling her heart. He moves his hand down to cup her sex, then presses the heel of his hand against her clit. She gasps, a tremble running through her legs, and rests her cheek atop his head. She listens to Asra’s breaths, calmer than before, and his heartbeat as he slips first one finger into her, then two. She is so wet she takes him easily. He curls his fingers inside her, his other hand moving down her hip to squeeze and knead her ass.

“Look at you, Mizi,” he whispers, and she cannot stop her whimper, grinding down against his hand. She’s close, and he has barely begun. He kisses her throat, whispers against her skin, “Beautiful. I love you so much.”

“Ah—Asra—” She clutches at him, thighs trembling beyond her control. She has a terrible feeling that her legs will give out if he keeps touching her, and she will simply fall to the bed. Asra sucks her nipple into his mouth, curling his tongue around the peak at the same time his fingers crook inside her and his palm presses down—

She comes with the ghost of his name trapped in her throat, curling forward, shuddering in his arms. Her cunt squeezes his fingers, rippling, and she grips Asra’s hair and shoulder, burying her face in his throat. “Good,” he croons in her ear, “good, Mizi, just like that.”

His hand does not stop. The air is thick with the sounds of her pleasure, her gasps and moans and the wet sounds of his fingers fucking her, his whispered praise that makes her skin break out in gooseflesh. (Good, she is good, she is good she is loved—)

His thumb brushes her clit, and she whimpers, tightening her hold on him. She jerks, twitching with the aftershocks of her orgasm, but his arm—wrapped around her waist, holding her fast against his chest—does not let her pull too far away. She whimpers, oversensitive, every nerve prickling. It hurts, but she does not shy from this pain, not yet. She is not certain this is a pain she wants to turn away from.

Before she can decide, Asra says, “You’re so good, Mizi. So good. I love you. Can you give me another one?”

His voice is honey, silk, smooth as murmured shadows.

Still, she hears him distantly, as if she were underwater; she curls forward, gasping against his shoulder, nails digging into his skin. She feels surrounded by his warmth, immobilized by the pleasure-pain that shocks through her, unable to do anything but listen, feel. She cannot hear whatever noises he is pulling from her, whether moans or whimpers or pleas—she can only hear him. He’s still whispering to her, and every one of his praises warms her, makes her feel the bolts of pleasure he coaxes from her body far more acutely.

She does not know how long it takes, but when she comes again, it is when she is leaning against him, no longer standing on her knees. Her toes curl until they crack and her hitched breath against his throat sounds like a sob. She shakes as her orgasm washes over her, and is left slumped in his arms, boneless, aching.

Asra’s arms are tight around her. “Two,” he says, far too smugly for his own good. She says nothing, too sapped of energy for coherent thought, but she manages a small laugh, mostly muffled by his shoulder.

The night is not so dark, now; the skies are graying with the onset of dawn.

“And it only took two hours,” she finally says, taking a deep breath. Her legs are still trembling. Her whole body feels numb.

Asra laughs. “I don’t think it was that long, but even if it was? Worth it.” He carefully pulls his hand from her, kissing her cheek when she whimpers, and lowers her to the bed. His fingers are pruned and paler than usual, shining with her slick. She watches as he sucks his fingers clean, closing his eyes at the taste of her. “Mm. Delicious.”

She shakes her head, and Asra grins at her, tongue curling around the pad of his longest finger, his skin wrinkled to the knuckle. She rasps a curse and he laughs, shifting her in his lap, gently setting her on the bed. “Was that good for you?” he asks. “Was it too much?”

“It was good,” she says, and is surprised to learn she means it. It had been too much, and that had been what had made it good. She does not think it could be a regular occurrence, but perhaps once or twice more, later… she would not be opposed to once or twice more, she thinks. Later. Once she can walk again.

“Can I get you anything?” he asks, looking insufferably pleased with himself.

“Water,” she whispers. He kisses her cheek and gets up at once, uncaring of his nakedness as he goes downstairs. She stares at the ceiling, catching her breath, feeling the sweat shining on her body begin to cool. It has stopped raining outside, and as it is very early morning, the neighbors have not even begun to stir.

Asra returns with a glass and a pitcher of water, and she drinks half of it. Asra drinks the rest. He places them both on the dresser, next to the wine bottle full of olive oil they’d used last night, and sits heavily on the edge of the bed. Ziah scoots down until she can press her chest to his bowed back, resting her cheek at the nape of his neck. Her nails draw random patterns on his shoulders, making him shiver.

“It’s almost six o’clock,” he says. “I checked.”

“Come to sleep,” she bids, softly. “The shop does not open for another few hours. I know you must be tired.”

He shifts in her arms at once, tugging her down to the mattress and pulling her close. He kisses her inner wrist, lips lingering at her pulsepoint, and after several minutes of cuddling and whispering of nothing, he falls asleep first.

—  —  —

She wakes up some time later to find him gone, with a note indicating he’d gone to the palace for the day. But he surprises her a few minutes after she closes the shop for lunch, carrying a mango sharbat in one hand and a loaf of pumpkin bread in another. He greets her with a kiss and goes upstairs.

“I’m only here for lunch,” Asra explains once she joins him upstairs. She raises her eyebrow, moving to grab the breadknife to cut the loaf in two, but he catches her hand, pulling her back and kissing her palm. He looks at her, eyes half-lidded, and his lips curl into a smirk as he says, “Mm, I had something else in mind.”

He gets her on the couch, pulls a pillow from the couch and kneels on it before her, spreading her open with lips and tongue and fingers. He takes her apart, her thighs trembling around his head, her fingers buried in his hair, her mouth open in a silent cry. After she comes, and he has left a hickey in the smooth skin of her left inner thigh, he looks up, smirking, lips and chin wet. “Was that three? I think so. Hm. I’m losing count.”

She rolls her eyes, but cannot stop her smile. She tugs him up to kiss him, tasting herself on his lips and tongue. “Upstairs,” she whispers, “or here?”

He smirks at her, and the heat in his eyes sends a thrill through her, pooling between her legs. At his choice, she takes him upstairs by the hand and lays him down half-naked on the bed. She slings a leg over his hips so she straddles him, then takes his hands and presses them into the mattress. She aligns him and sinks down in one smooth stroke, making him gasp, bucking up into her.

It does not take long—she had nosed the collar of his shirt aside, leaving his collarbone and part of his shoulder naked to her gaze, and had been busily sucking hickeys into his skin when his hands tighten in hers and he gasps her name and comes inside her. She has a sigil that prevents pregnancy and her monthly bleeds, but that does not stop Asra from casting a contraceptive spell anyway.

She lets him wrap his arms around her afterward, lets herself linger in the afterglow, nosing at the underside of his chin until her stomach growls. Asra laughs, weakly, his hands trailing up and down her clothed back. “Guess that’s my cue,” he says. “They’re still expecting me at the palace. Just wanted my lunch first.”

She opens her mouth, ready to point out he hadn’t eaten anything, until he smirks at her and she realizes his meaning. Her face heats, surely reddening to an extraordinarily embarrassing degree, and she says, “Must you phrase it that way?”

Her voice is almost a squeak. Again.

Asra grins, delighted, eyes crinkling in the corners until they’re slits of purple. “You’re a snack, Mizi,” he says, snickering.

She blushes harder, fighting both the urge to smile and the urge to cover her face with both of her hands. Instead she climbs off of him and tosses his clothes at him. “Oh,” she says, affection warming her voice, “get out, you. I will see you tonight for dinner.”

“Yeah you will,” he says, laughing too hard to put on his pants. She shakes her head and crosses to him, tilting his head up, kissing him fiercely enough to steal his breath. He sighs when she pulls away, tugging her closer and resting his ear over her heartbeat. After a moment, he pulls away. “Okay, okay, I’m going.”

“Hale and whole,” she reminds him.

“Always,” he promises. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she returns, and kisses his forehead before returning downstairs to her sharbat and pumpkin bread. Asra dresses upstairs, and when he comes downstairs, he walks across the floor to kiss her cheek.

“Three,” he says.

“You promised me four,” she returns, daring to look at him out of the corner of her eye. He smiles and kisses her cheek again.

“Tonight, then,” he promises, and leaves whistling a sea shanty.

(He keeps his promise.)

[learn-tastic]

Studying with Depression (Part 1)

Hi, my name is Depression, and I have jasmine. Just kidding, but that’s how it feels sometimes, like depression is who you are. It’s not. And you can’t let it take over your life like I did last semester.

I stopped going to class, doing homework, leaving my bed, and eating sometimes. I did essentially nothing all day. I hated my life. Ironically, my depression was caused by bad grades, which of course worsened. And I also have anxiety, so even when I was motivated to go to class again or to talk to/ email a professor, I was petrified to talk to them, to have a confrontation, to reach out. Through the help of a campus therapist, my academic advisor, my sister, my friends, and eventually my mother when I told my her about how bad I’d gotten (which pissed her the fuck off for the longest time but also she was worried about me), I determined that I should apply for a medical withdrawal for that semester (basically I got all W’s for my classes so my GPA wouldn’t drop. And wasted a semester’s worth of tuition). It was hard. I don’t recommend letting it get to that point. I actually ended up making mostly C’s, but my GPA was like a 1.5 I believe. For comparison, my GPA in highschool was a 6.6/ 6.0 (weighted).

TL;DR: Don’t be depressed it sucks for your GPA

Anyways, here are some tips for that bc I don’t really like the other posts I’ve seen on this sorta stuff.

1) Seek help.

The first step that helped me was to start seeing the campus therapist. If you don’t have one, see your advisor or go on your insurance’s website to see if they cover therapy/ to find someone who takes your insurance. Or if not that, tell a parent/ guardian/ sibling/ friend/ old teacher/ literally anyone who can help. I’ve even seen a lot of adds on instagram for counselors that you can text. This is the first most important step. 

If you think you may be medicated, see your regular doctor, that’s where I got my prescription. Eventually try to see a specialist (psychiatrist) but this helps you get back on track. It helped me to sit down and schedule my eye exam, dentist appointment, yearly check up, gyno appointment. I was taking care of my self. Which brings me to my next point...

2) Take care of yourself.

You are babysitting yourself. Kids have school, a bedtime, snacktime, homework and chores after school.

EG) When you wake up, wash your face, brush your teeth, take your meds/ vitamins (I actually got vitamins before I took antidepressants bc it helped me feel like I was actively taking care of the problem). Get dressed, shower if you have the energy or at least use dry shampoo or put your hair in a tight ponytail. Put effort into your appearance, whether this means getting a haircut you badly need, doing a facial, or doing your nails. You can do your brows, beat your face, or buy one new outfit/ jewelry/ whatever makes you happy (1 only bc I developed a bad shopping habit while depressed). Make sure you eat at least 2 or 3 times a day, and drink at least 1 glass of something with each meal. (of course eating 3 main meals with lots of fruits, veggies, fiber, and proteins and having snacks and drinking pure water and teas are recommended but people are assholes it’s hard for us sometimes and have small goals and then work yourself up). Kids like juice and dino- shaped nuggets and goddamn it so can you (but also don’t overeat bc that makes you feel like shit too don’t eat just garbage)Don’t drink or do drugs, bc depression and drugs/ alcohol do not fucking mix I STG. 

It helps to pretend like you have somewhere to go that isn’t school in the morning. Just roll out of bed, don’t log on, and just get ready whether it’s bare minimum or dressed to impress, but just do it and eat and go out

3) Go out

Go to class, or even if you don’t go to class get out of your damn room. Go to the smoothie place, the student center, the library, the campus park, anywhere on campus. get out of your room. Do something with friends. Change and deviate from your normal depressed state of dissociating into the void in bed or being online too long out binge watching. Or at least do it with a friend. Working out is great if you have the energy, especially as it scientifically helps with your mood and motivation.

4) Get a week long plan

You can’t fix your depression and school in a day. You need momentum. One thing I hated last semester was I felt like I never had enough clones to do all my things. I still agree, but I’ve gotten better. Do one day of light cleaning (putting things away- ish), one for actually cleaning (wiping, sweeping, mopping, vaccumming, scrubbing), one or two for laundry ( can either wash clothes or put them away, I never have energy for both), one for hella self care (take a shower you really need it, maybe a bath, mani- pedi, skincare, shave if you like, lotion, deodorant, perfume, sunscreen, floss and shit, light a candle, wear comfy clothes), one day to figure out a game plan (download apps, find websites, find tutoring services/ study groups, look at the syllabus and see what you can do to raise your grade, email teachers if you’re up for it, look into study strategies) and then maybe one day try to focus on MWF classes and another do TTh classes, or break it down however you like. Once your room and yourself and your clothes aren’t so nasty, it’s easier to keep it up. What’s hard for me is feeling overwhelmed.

5) Little goals, little wins

What helps me long term is the little wins. Focus on what you did right and how to improve, and don’t dwell on how you messed up. Going to 1 class is better than none. Or maybe you skipped classes but at least you worked out. Maybe you still didn’t shower but you called your sister and remembered to eat. Maybe you slept in late but now you went to bed early. Maybe you failed an assignment but at least you did it and got higher than a 0. Maybe you didn’t go to class but you went to the store. It’s a process and you start small but it gets better. Once you build up a momentum/ streak and start tackling little problems it’s less overwhelming and easier to stick to it and most importantly...

6) Forgive yourself

You will fuck up, it’s okay, literally it doesn’t matter, keep trying. Rome wasn’t built in a day; your life won’t change in a day either. Every one has bad days. Just work to make tomorrow a good one.

[trasshmammals]

You Too Sunshine...

This story takes place when Tracer (Lena) is off duty, as well as Emily.

It was the weekend, Lena and Emily were the only ones in out of their friends. Usually when they’re off and at home, they relax since Lena has such a stressful job. Occasionally she comes home with bumps, cuts, and bruises that Emily tends to, but it’s very rare considering Lena is friends with Angela (Mercy). A few nights a week they go out for drinks or just for dinner despite the lack of energy, Lena loves Emily and wants to make her happy in every way possible.

Lena: Hey Em?

Emily: Hm..?

Lena: I know you and I rarely spend time together, besides the nights, but I feel bad… I want you to be happy and us to be happy.

Emily: Babe… I’m happy with you. Anytime I get to see you, hear you, hug you, or kiss you, I’m happy. How about you and I go out next weekend?

Lena: Woah… Really?! You mean it?!

Emily: Duh!!

Lena: YAY!! WE CAN DO SO MANY THINGS!!-

Emily: Ok, ok, calm dow-

Lena: WE CAN GO ROLLER SKATING, HIKING, WE CAN DRIVE AROUND LONDON, GO EAT EXOTIC FOODS, GO TO AN AMUSEMENT PARK, OH MY GOD THERE’S SO MANY CHOICES!! AGHH-

Emily: *laughing* Calm down, you little ball of energy!!

Lena: I’M SORRY I’M JUST SO DAMN EXCITED!! *jumping around*

Emily: *puts hand on Lena’s face* Calm down… *kisses her forehead*

Lena: *hugs Em* Love you…

Emily: You too sunshine… *her mind: cute…*

The night goes on, Emily and Lena enjoy their time together with dinner, a movie, and a king sized bed awaiting it’s Queens slumber. =========== Time passes =========== Evening has passed, Lena and Emily, now relaxing in their bed looking in each other’s eyes…

Emily: Without freaking out, where do you wanna go?

Lena: I don’t really know… we never go out, so it’s hard to chose.

Emily: How about…

*Lena’s phone rings*

Lena: Ugh!! Now?!

*picks up*

Lena: Who this be?

Emily: *laying flat on her back* *her mind: why does she have to be so busy? I just want to spend time with my baby… Is that too much to ask?!*

*call ends*

Emily: *sits up* Who was that?

Lena: Commander Morrison.

Emily: Oh? What did he need?

Lena: He said next week I have 2 options, take off or come in for overtime…

Emily: *her mind: OHMYGODWHATEVENISMYLIFE?!* *says quietly outloud* YES!!

Lena: ‘Didja say somethin ‘ere?

Emily: Nope~ *leans and kisses Lena*

Emily placed her hand on Lena’s leg as the kiss passed on, Lena cupped her face on one side and laid her down slowly… Lena’s arms straddled Emily’s upper body, she leaned down and kissed Emily slowly and softly, the kiss lasted for a good while until she pulled away slowly. Lena rolled over on her back, head propped against the headboard of their bed, she took her accelerator off to charge by their bedside table, then she relaxed with her eyes closed and a smile on her face. Emily rolled over and rested her head on Lena’s chest with a smile on her face as well, she turned her head to look up at Lena’s sparkling hazel eyes while Lena opened hers to look at Emily’s glistening green eyes. As their eyes met they both laughed slightly.

Lena: *giggles* You’re so cute…

Emily: *blushes* Aw, baby…

Lena: I know where we should go…

Emily: Hm…?

Lena: The aquarium!! You love fish!!

Emily: That’s perfect!!

Lena: Then it’s a date.

Emily: *lays head back on Lena’s chest* You know… I miss this… everyday I watch the clock hoping time goes faster and faster just so I can see you. I miss you.

Lena: *pulls Emily closer* I miss you too… but you know I have stuff to do…

Emily: *nuzzles her shoulder* I know… but it’s hard. You’re out there, risking your life, any second you could be killed and then this bed wouldn’t be warm at night… on either side… *tears*

Lena: *tears* Baby…

Emily: *sits up crying* And I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t because I never want to see you go and your accelerator could be broken and you’d be gone.

Lena: *sits up and covers mouth while crying* *looks at Emily*

Emily: *screaming and crying* DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT WOULD DO TO ME LENA?! *looks at her*

Lena: *paused with tears running down her face* Em-

Emily: *breaks down on hands and knees on bed sobbing* *cracking voice* I don’t want to see you go… not again…

Lena: *hugs Emily tightly with tears running down her face* *whispers* I’m not going anywhere baby…

Emily: *wraps arms around Lena tightly* *sobs*

Lena: shhhh… it’s gonna be ok, love…

Emily: *tears in eyes, she looks up at Lena* Promise me?

Lena: *Looks at Emily with tears in her eyes* ‘Ave I ever broken one?

Emily: *tilts head down* *smiles and blushes*

Lena: Hey look at me… *puts finger under Em’s chin* *tilts her head back up to her face*

Lena: I love you…

Emily: You too sunshine…

Emily rests her head back on Lena’s chest and falls asleep knowing how safe she is in her embrace. =========== Time passes =========== Night passes and it’s now morning… Emily is the early riser in this relationship lol. Emily wakes up to her on Lena’s chest and her beautiful girlfriend sleeping soundly.

Emily: You’re so cute when you’re asleep… *kisses her forehead*

Emily gets out of bed, hair a wreck, dried tears on her face…

Emily: Ugh… how did she fall in love with this mess?

She did what she normally did in the morning, brushed her hair, brushed her teeth, made tea for Lena and coffee for her, opened the blinds in the room and living room, and waited for Lena to wake up.

Lena: *Wakes up* *mumbled* Ugh… Why do mornings exiiiiist….

Lena managed to crawl out of bed looking like a depressed porcupine and did what she did in the morning, brushed her hair, gelled it up, brushed her teeth, put her glasses on, and yet still remained pants-less… with her British flag boyshortts out for show, Emily snuck into the bathroom behind her and hugged her waist.

Emily: *kisses Lena’s cheek* Good morning beautiful!!

Lena: *blushes* Morning love… Sleep alright?

Emily: As long as you’re there with me…

Emily gave Lena her the tea she always makes for her and they both walked out to their kitchen. Lena sat down still no pants and half asleep, awaiting Emily and breakfast. Emily always makes them the best English breakfasts in the world, she sat the plate in front of Lena and they both dug into it like it was their last meals.

Lena: *pulls out phone*

Emily: Anything new?

Lena: No, but Brooke keeps talking about her one night stands.. *laughs*

Emily: *laughs* Jeez, what a whore… How many has she had?

Lena: Pfft, too many to count… I wouldn’t be surprised if she got AIDS…

Emily: Ugh, I pitty her…

=========== Time passes ===========

Lena did the dished after breakfast. She always does.

Emily: BABE!!!

Lena: YEA?!

Emily: WHERE ARE MY LEGGINGS?!

Lena: HOW THE BLOODY HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!

Emily: YOU’D KNOW BECAUSE WE SHARE THE SAME DAMN CLOSET!!

Lena: JESUS CHRIST WOMAN!! YOU ‘AVE MILLIONS OF PAIRS OF SLACKS PICK A DAMN PAIR!!

Emily: IT’S NOT THAT EASY!! YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND!! MS. I ONLY WEAR JEANS AND CROCS OR CONVERSE!!

Lena: *deep breaths* OH FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GAY AND HOLY!! I’M COMING…

Lena knows where everything is in their apartment and hates it when Emily “doesn’t have shit to wear”, but considering she only wears jeans, t-shirts, and converse or crocs it’s easy for her… this is always a struggle… but she always finds what her girl wants.

Lena: *walks into their room* Whatcha lookin for…

Emily: My leggings, the black ones!!

Lena: *looking Emily dead in the eyes with a blank resting bitch face points at the leggings*

Emily: Oh…

Lena: Get dressed, I have to change as well…

They both get dressed, Lena is wearing a white tee with blue jeans, her pilot jacket, and white converse and Emily is wearing a sweater with black leggings and brown boots. It’s a relatively chilly day in London, so they wear what’s comfy for them.

Lena: Smashing outfit babe!! You look beautiful as always. *winks*

Emily: *laughs* You’re a dork…

Lena: But I’m your dork!!

Emily: Yeah, all mine… *smiles*

Emily and Lena head out for the day doing basic errands… grocery shopping, clothes shopping, paying bills, other stuff… just boring adulting.

Lena: *has hella groceries in her hands* UGH!! BLOODY HELL!!

Emily: Something wrong baby?

Lena: Babe can you get the keys? I left ‘em in the car… and my hands are full.

Emily: Yeah hold up… *gets keys and unlocks house*

Lena: *laughs* DAMN FOOD!!

Emily: *laughs* I’ll put it all away, you go relax.

Lena: Why can’t I help?

Emily: Because I said so.

Tracer: Oh, ok? Love you…

Emily: You too…

Lena felt uneasy, Emily always says sunshine after “you too”.

Lena: *talking to herself* That’s weird, Em always calls me sunshine after I tell 'er I love 'er… Maybe she’s just tired..? What if she’s mad…? Did I do something wrong…?

Lena started to worry but the reason Emily didn’t say sunshine was because she felt something come over her… she finally noticed that she never tells Lena she loves her, she always says “you too” not “I love you too” or “not as much as I love you” or anything like that… it’s always “You too sunshine…” She didn’t know that Lena didn’t care that she didn’t say I love you back, she just loved hearing the word sunshine.

============== A few days pass ==============

Lena was concerned for Emily and the aquarium is in two days, was she gonna be in a good enough mood for the date still?

========== It’s morning ==========

The girls did their thing but today was different, they didn’t wake up on each other, Emily didn’t bring her tea, and they both ate plain buttered toast for breakfast.

Lena: *her mind: somethings wrong…*

Lena looked at her girlfriend, she had no smile, no emotion on her face, Emily felt like a complete dick. She has never told Lena she loved her, it crushed her. Emily had her hand sitting out on the table tapping her nails in a wave motion, Lena moved her own hand on hers, looked at her and smiled. Emily didn’t look up. She didn’t move. And the nail tapping stopped. She stood up and walked into the living room and flopped on their couch.

Lena: *tears in her eyes*

Lena wanted to cry, but instead she stood, she went into their room and laid back in their bed. Covered in blankets, Lena rolled over to see Emily standing in the door way staring at her. Emily saw the tears in Lena’s eyes, she went over to her and crouched to her head.

Emily: Baby… are you ok?

Lena: *mumbles* I could ask you the same thing…

Emily tried to stroke her head but she missed the opportunity as Lena turned to her other side to only stare at the empty space she so badly wanted Em to fill. Emily went to the other side of the bed and laid down beside her.

Lena: Do you still wanna go to the aquarium tomorrow love?

Emily: Only if you do…

Lena didn’t know what she wanted to do, but finally came to the decision to go.

Lena: Yeah, a little social interaction won’t kill us…

As the day carried on they both laid in bed all day, no errands, no TV, nothing was done…

=========== Time passes ===========

It’s an early morning this morning, Emily woke at five when her usual was seven, the reason she woke up was the bed was cold where Lena usually was. Emily was barely awake but as soon as she felt the cold spot and saw no dim blue light beside Lena’s table she got worried.

Emily: Lena…

Emily progressively worried more as the seconds went by.

Emily: Lena, baby this isn’t funny!! Come out, it’s not a joke!!

Emily screamed for Lena as loud as she could.

Emily: LENA!! BABE SERIOUSLY!! STOP!!

Emily got out of bed and tore the house apart, yelling for her girlfriend.

Emily: BABY?! LENA!!

Emily went out to their balcony and nearly froze as soon as the cold air hit her, she fell to her knees from the cold. She sat out there for an hour waiting for Lena to come back.

Emily: *whispers with chattering teeth and crying eyes* c-come b-b-back… I-I’m s-sorry…

Lena then soon arrived from a morning jog that she went on to find her girlfriend freezing outside with only a t-shirt and Lena’s British flag shorts on. Lena immediately threw her brown jacket on Emily whom was passed out on the balcony on her knees. Lena picked up Emily and took her inside, she turned on their TV in their room and sat with Emily cradled in her arms with blankets covering them, Emily awoke to the smell of Lena’s perfume from her jacket on her shoulders, she looked up to see Lena and felt the warmth of her arms surrounding her. Lena was talking to herself thinking Emily couldn’t hear her.

Lena: Man, sure is a shame we can’t go to the aquarium… awful cold outside today, and with Em’s condition I don’t think she’ll want to either. *lightly chuckles*

Emily shifted her body on top on Lena’s resting her legs beside Lena’s and her head on her shoulder. Lena didn’t know that she was awake, she kisses the top of her cold head. Emily wrapped her arms around Lena tightly. She looked up at her again while she was distracted watching TV, she put her hand on Lena’s face.

Lena: *softly speaking* Hey frosty… you alright?

Emily: I’m *sniff* ok…

Lena: *still speaking softly* You’re in no condition to go to the aquarium today love… Maybe another day, alright?

Emily: *nods* Where did you go? I got scared…

Lena: *lightly laughs* I just went on a jog… I wasn’t gone for long.

Emily: It felt like forever… I was terrified, I looked everywhere for you but I couldn’t find you…

Lena: Why so scared love?

Emily: You’re always here to protect me, you’re strong, brave, pretty, nice, funny, and you make me happy… I don’t like it when you go away…

Lena: Em… I’m not going anywhere… ever.

Emily: Baby…

Lena: Hm…?

Emily perked up to Lena’s head and kissed her.

Emily: *pulls away* I love you…

Lena puts their foreheads together and looks in her eyes…

Lena: You too sunshine…

Emily laughs and they both snuggle the day away… END

[fulloflesbeans]

Hazel Eyes & Cake Pops [Ch. 14]

Read on Ao3 here

Luckily, I was not scolded as much as I thought I would be. When Rachel came back, she simply gave me a slap on the wrist and told me to never avoid drinking from the same cup again. She has actually slapped me across the face once, but I would rather forget that. We all got ready and went to bed, of course I stayed up in case Kate had to text. I was lying on the couch, completely covered by my blanket, with my phone as I text her back and forth at midnight.

We should do that more! I had so much fun. Kate seemed happy, but she was still awake.

Can we not study next time?

Of course, I know that you didn't like doing that all that much.

How about Saturday? We could hang out all day.

That sounds fantastic.

I suddenly slapped myself on the forehead. It was stupid of me to just avoid and avoid, what was I doing? My mind just… shut down and it makes me do stupid shit. There were so many things I wanted to ask: how the short film was doing, why she didn't wear her purity ring anymore, why she couldn't sleep. She was becoming more mysterious to me. The whole story and how open she was to being so close to me made me want to believe she was gay.

What did you and Rachel talk about?

I was curious. Rachel didn't talk about it when she got back.

We just talked about random things. Like what other stuff she does and things like that.

My eyes were starting to really tired and blurry, and my eyelids were dropping. Kate responded again before I knocked out, I think I'll be able to sleep now. Along with a little audio file, "Goodnight Max, sweet dreams." I passed out completely after that.

In the morning, I was awoken by a pillow hitting me right in the stomach. I shot up and frantically got out, falling to the floor and right onto my face. I looked up and saw Chloe standing over me with a straight face.

"Are you trying to hide from us?" Chloe asked.

"Nope, not at all," I grunted as I stood up again, "I understand what I did and I will fix it... tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" Chloe crossed her arms.

"I'm going somewhere with Kate. I have a feeling I'll see her today, so I'll talk about it with her."

"Yeah, that was... hella embarrassing, Max."

I could only sigh at myself.

"Get ready, I have to take you early again. Rachel is staying here again." Chloe went into the bathroom, resting her arms on her head. I paced around, rolling my head around to crack my neck and stretching my arms up to the ceiling.

Okay, something needed to change. I needed to be more confident and take Rachel and Chloe's harsh words as helpful tips and only out of love. I had a strange feeling again, but I shook it off and decided to call Kate. It was early, but I still wanted to attempt it. It rang a few times, until I heard a yawn and then, "Hello?"

"Good morning, Kate. Were you still sleeping?"

"No, I just woke up," She yawned again, "I always wake up early. Did you need something?"

"Chloe has to open today and I'm gonna be at school pretty early. Do you want to meet up or would you like more sleep?"

On Kate's side, I could hear something like a case unlocking and squeaking open, "What time will you be there?"

"Sometime between six and seven. It doesn't help that my class is in the afternoon."

"Wow, that's incredibly early. I'm going to be slightly late, but I'll meet you at our table in the library, if that's okay."

Oh, my dog, she called it our table.

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll see you soon."

"See you soon, bye."

I hung up and then thought about it. Why did I have to go with her? When Chloe came out of the bathroom in her uniform, I had to ask, "Why do I have to go with you? I have class at one."

"Do you want to Uber again with Rachel?"

"I want her to stop spending so much."

"Then you're coming with me, so get ready."

I shrugged my shoulders and thought she had a point. Rachel was going to leave somewhere anyway, probably to get groceries for the interview thing airing tonight. I went in for a shower, showering and brushing my teeth as fast as possible.

I threw on my blue jeans and this mustard yellow t-shirt I didn't know Rachel bought and then left. My shoes were still half on, hopping around on the way out and having to put them on in the car. I also had to tie my hair up in there. Chloe didn't mind me still getting ready, but I could see the amusement on her face. I folded my sleeves a couple times because I’ve learned it was gayer that way. Might as well embrace it, right?

"You could sleep in the library again. I would do that."

"Maybe, but I'm meeting Kate there." I said proudly.

"Great, but you better not pull the same shit you pulled yesterday."

"I got it. I'm going to fix it... raviChloe."

"Leave the nickname thing to me, CarMax."

It didn't hurt to try.

Chloe dropped me off, sarcastically telling me to have a horrible day (because of the nickname attempt), and then sped off. I immediately left to the library, though my stomach was grumbling rather loud. I went to the same table closest to the entrance and sat there. I didn't want to work and I didn't want to read, but I had to do something while I was waiting. I took out my journal, neglected and nearly destroyed, and opened it to a blank page. I wrote down everything that happened in the past couple of weeks. This was the end of week nine; basically two weeks until it was all over. It depended, but most days were pure bliss. Most moments were ruined by me being a piece of awkward trash.

I continued to write until I saw someone sit in front of me. Of course, it was Kate, who was happy this day and placed a cup of coffee right in between us. She was back to her bun, shirt, and skirt combo, but I was more distracted by her left hand. I couldn't stop thinking about her saying the whole purity ring thing. As her fingers tapped against the table, I couldn't help but imagine the ring being there at all.

"Good morning Max." She finally said, stopping her tapping.

"Good morning Kate. Did you have to see your friends again?" My eyes made contact with hers.

"I was actually practicing. I play the violin and I've been able to play in the mornings again."

"That's cool. How long have you been playing?"

"Ever since I was six. I try not to miss a day, but my roommate, you know?"

"That's so cool. I play the guitar, or used to, I haven't played in a while."

"You need to show me sometime." Kate grabbed her cup and took a sip. At the same time, my stomach let out the loudest growl it could make, making me place my hand over it in surprise.

"Don't tell me you skipped breakfast." Her face just said "over it."

"I did. Chloe had to go right away to open."

Kate pushed her cup to me, "Would you like some? It's coffee again."

To stab me in the heart again, she actually took the cap off for me. She waited with the cap in her hand, but how do I tell her to put it back? I hesitated, but I awkwardly reached over and grabbed the cover, putting it back.

"I'm sorry that happened yesterday."

"What’s there to be sorry about?"

"The whole not drinking from the same cup thing. And the literally taking the cap off thing."

"It's okay! Don't be sad about that, it was just the last thing I expected."

"I will drink it, but that will never happen again." I started to, but I was practically chugged it down. It was past halfway once I stopped.

"This is why I can't share. It's already almost gone."

"That's fine. I bought it to share."

Kate then went to her bag for her notebook, opening them to a page of neatly-written notes, and started reading it. I sat there, trying to read them upside down and holding onto the white coffee cup close. My mind went blank when I repeated her words in my head. She wanted to share with me, even though yesterday it looked like I didn't want to do that at all. Heart, could you please calm down for one day?

"Is that enough or do you want to get something at the cafeteria?" Kate asked me, eyes still down at her book.

"Are you hungry?"

"I'm not the one with the monster in her belly." Kate looked up again.

I could only snicker, "That is true. We have time and adding some food will make this drink better, so yeah, let's go."

We packed everything we had and then left the library, passing the cup back and forth for sips. It was quiet on our walk through the hall; the cafeteria was on the second floor. Once it was back in Kate's hand again, it was very empty.

"Oh great, I need to get more coffee." Kate laughed as she shook it around.

"Sharing with me is hard, okay?" I laughed with her. I looked at her up and down and felt myself warm up. I cleared my throat, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Do you wear those kinds of skirts a lot?"

"Not before, but I wanted to try these skater skirts and I really like them. My roommate told me my old ones made me look... insecure, she said."

"You look nice, but that's a mean thing to say."

"It was, but that's how she acts," She grabbed onto my arm, latching on loosely as she caught up to me, "You're walking kinda fast."

"Oh, shit," I slowed down, allowing her to be at the same pace, but she didn't let go, "Sorry, I didn't even notice I was."

"You're really hungry, aren't you?"

"I am!" I replied. We arrived to the cafeteria, which was roughly the same size as the library, filled with circle tables with many chairs, the walls were covered in graffiti and many different pop culture characters and bright colors, and on the wall, there was a big ass TV with different gaming systems readily available to play on. Against another wall were lines of vending machines with snacks and drinks. Ironically, no cafeteria food.

"What do you want? I'll get it for you so it won't get stuck." Kate finally lets go of my arm.

I chuckled, "You're never going to let that go, huh?"

"That's how we officially met, so I can't."

We went up to the machine with the most number of snacks in it and peered in.

"You don't have class until afternoon too?"

"Both afternoon and evening, I have Color Theory and Geometry."

We both continued to look until we heard another voice.

"I suggest the granola bars." The male voice said. Oh shit, you had to be kidding me. I wished every day and night for this scenario to never happen—every hour, even. I don’t know what forbidden being didn’t want me to move on, but I despised them. I avoided looking at him; I already knew who it was.

"Oh really, stranger?" Kate responded. She spoke with a very formal and nice tone.

"Yeah, it's early in the morning, it'll help you get that energy you'll need!"

As he spoke, I heard the water vending machine whir and then drop a bottle into the shoot.

"Maybe we will, but my friend and I are still looking."

He was quiet until he gasped, "Hey Max! Crazy to see you here too!"

I slowly turned around and forced a smile, "Hey... Warren. What brings you here?"

Fuck my life and everything in it.

"I was called here to fix some of the classroom's computers."

"Oh, you two know each other already?" Kate kept the nice tone, but it also sounded slightly strained.

"High school, had some classes together." He replied.

"That's wonderful. Well, we're going to keep looking, but thanks for the suggestion."

"No problem, see you ladies around." He finally left and I was able to get the breath I was holding in out.

"Are you okay?" Kate rubbed her hand on my back.

"Listen, Kate, I hate seeing that guy." I turned to face her.

"Did something happen?"

I sighed, "We dated for a little. I'll just say that it didn't end well."

"Oh no! Are you sure you're okay?" She placed a hand on my cheek, then my forehead, "You're really hot."

I held back a smile, but said, "You're hot too."

"Max, I'm serious." Kate was laughing anyway, her hands moved to holding onto my shoulders.

"I'm fine, I swear," I grasped onto her wrists, "Don't worry about me."

"Next time we see him, we'll run away, okay?"

"That would be awesome!"

We got Poptarts instead, eating them through the halls and walking aimlessly. Kate talked about how she used to eat them all the time because her younger sister loved them a lot. I didn't have an interesting story; I just liked snacking.

"Do you watch that E! news thing?" I asked.

"I watch it with my roommate. Why?"

"Rachel is going to have an interview on there and, from what she said, she was going to come out. Like, she's just going to say it."

"Wow, how admirable of her! Will we be texting each other about it or is it a moment of silence?"

"I would love to know your reaction, so please text me."

"Will do," she finished her snack and then crumpled up the silver wrapper in her hand, "This is really nice."

"What is?"

"Hanging out together. Being with you is fun. Rachel and Chloe are fun to be with and... I feel comfortable with you is what I'm trying to say."

"I feel the same way. But, tomorrow, what are we doing?"

"Right, I have to make up for only studying... Would you like to surprise me?"

"You want me to plan everything?"

"If you want to, but you can choose a place, at least."

"Y-yeah, I could do that. I'll try my best to find nice places."

There was not a single ounce of confidence in myself to surprise her. Yet, I still said that, it came out of my mouth before I could think about it.

"I'm looking forward to it."

After this conversation, Kate decided to test me on all the Nutrition things I learned yesterday. As we walked around, she asked random questions she somehow remembered, but I was able to answer. I mean, I answered after five minutes of thinking, but they were correct. Kate then went into her phone and let out an annoyed groan.

"Friends need you again?" I guessed.

"Yup and it's barely nine-thirty. Are you going into the library?"

"Yeah, I'll wait for you again in there."

"I'm sorry, but I'll see you there, okay? Don't move unless you have to go to class." Kate ran off, leaving me in front of the vending machine I kicked last time.

I sighed and trudged to the library. I hope to see that short film soon. It better be the greatest short film ever if they keep having to take her away for her help.

I did as I was told and sat in the library. I was switching between reading and walking around the bookshelves, which was incredibly boring. One eventually came and I had to leave for class. I got one text from her and it said, Sorry I couldn't go. I'll meet you at the front after class.

In class, it was a lot of review, more paper with practices, and lots of going up to the board to put answers. I think I impressed my teacher, judging by their expressions and sometimes clapping from saying the right answer. It got to the point that everyone in class started to clap for me, even though they have no idea why it was happening at all.

At the end of class, Evan stopped me.

"Hey, what you did in there was quite impressive!"

We walked together, but more he was following me.

"You think so? All I did was say answers." I dismissed the compliment. We passed by other classmates, saying small greetings to them.

"You told me you failed the other test. I'm sure they weren't expecting much and that's why they called on you. And then you killed it!"

I only forcefully laughed. I appreciated it, don't get me wrong, it was just that pain you get in your chest when you hear your name get called. Then, the surge of adrenaline when it’s over.

"You're really blowing up my ego, dude."

"It's what you deserve."

"Thanks. I need to meet up with my friend though, so I'll see you on Friday, okay?"

"No prob, see you next Friday!"

He left towards another classroom, even though it was early-dinnertime. I continued on my way to the front; Through the glass door, Kate was sitting on the curb again. I decided to sneak, slowly opening the door, and taking far and quiet steps towards her. I was crouching down and, quickly, I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her around, "Boo!"

She let out a squeak and doing little shrieks. She gripped my wrists and then turned around, "Max, what the heck!"

"I couldn't help!"

Even though she sounded mad, she was still smiling.

I sat next to her, hugging my legs to my chest, "How was being with your friends?"

"It was actually... uncomfortable, I think I could say?"

I perked up, my back straightening and my eyebrows raised.

She rested on her hands behind her, "I had to do some bad acting."

"Never been a drama kid?"

"Nope, they wanted to try, since I wrote it. But, it was pretty weird. It was just a practice at a bench! It went bad..."

"I'm sure you did way better than you think."

"That's uplifting, though you weren't there. Oh, I need to know when the interview will be on, because my last class today ends at ten."

"That's right! Crap, I need to ask." I grabbed my phone and text Rachel. She should be up and about around this time.

"How was your class?" She asked after I finished.

"Surprisingly good, my teacher kept calling on me, but jokes on them, I knew all the answers."

"That's wonderful! I'm glad I was able to help you on your studies then."

"I owe you one."

"Isn't that what tomorrow is?"

"Leave it to me." I bumped my arm with hers. Confidence level only went up by ten… out of a hundred. I got a text back, it's going to be late, around ten-thirty? Are you ready to go?

Yeah, at the front with Kate.

"It'll air around the time you leave class." I reiterated.

"Oh okay, I'll text you when I start watching then. When I got home yesterday, my roommate still doesn't believe that I had a conversation with Rachel or was in a car with her."

"You should have brought her to make her lose her mind."

"I should have, but I wanted her to get home as quick as possible."

It was silent again, listening to the sound of cars speeding off or people walking by us in their own conversations, sitting there with our arms still pressing against each other.

"How was yours, by the way? Your class, I mean." I asked back.

"It was fine. Just learning more about colors and mixing them together, there's nothing interesting to say."

"Do you like it?"

"I do. Though, it does get boring."

"And you have Geometry later?"

"Yeah, my Fridays are incredibly boring, except for today."

I felt my cheeks burn from the statement. Kate had really pink cheeks, and was also avoiding any eye contact with me. Bravely, I also leaned back on my hands, letting one hand inch closer to hers. I was so distracted, I didn't even hear Rachel calling out my name. Kate looked like she didn't either.

"Earth to Max, are you there?!" I finally heard. I looked to my left and Rachel was standing at the car, still half-out of it. She was a block down in an available parking spot.

"Shit," I stood up right away, "Did you hear her?"

"No, I don't know what happened! I didn't hear her either!" She stood up next to me.

"I have to go, text me later!"

I ran off and jumped into the car, pushing Rachel into the other seat.

In the car, Rachel glared at me with her arms folded.

"Maxine Caulfield, how dare you ignore me." It wasn't even a question, it was a strict sentence.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. I was distracted." I rubbed the back of my neck. I wasn't sure what she was going to do.

Her face started to twist and tried to stay serious, failing in the end. She lets out a breathy laugh, "I'm kidding! You look so scared, oh my god!"

"I can't help it!" I pushed Rachel in retaliation.

As Rachel laughed her ass off, I finally reflected on everything that happened. Kate let me share from her drink, she held onto my arm, she said she'll run away when she sees him, I literally called her hot without hesitation, and then I almost held hands with her. I was making more progress than I thought. It was hard to think about that when Rachel was laughing hysterically.

Rachel stopped laughing right when we got home again.

"I'm sorry, your face was just priceless." She wiped under her eye from tearing up.

"Hey, after that bitch slap, I've been fearful." I touched my left cheek.

"It was impulsive."

She then kissed my forehead, "I'm sorry about that and laughing for a whole car ride."

"I already forgave you." I said and headed to the apartment.

In the meantime, I did all my reviews, finished my final projects, and watched about three episodes of Project Runway. When Chloe came home at an alarmingly late hour, she patted my head and kissed Rachel.

"How was your day?" Rachel asked.

"It was whatever," Chloe seated herself in the last available spot on the couch, "It was all the same."

"That's better, right? You usually deal with bad customers, so you're not really pissed off."

"Thank fucking hell, I hated it enough that I had to open the damn place."

"How about tomorrow?" Rachel said as she sighed and rested her head on Chloe's shoulder.

"I wasn't given a day off, so if you want, you have to come along with me. Max has a real date."

Rachel loudly gasped and then flung her hand, hitting me hard against my arm, "Why didn't you tell me that?!"

"I forgot!" I grabbed my arm in pain. I need to look up places I could take Kate; I cannot afford to mess up any more. I got a text.

I just left class! I'm so tired.

Was it boring?

Only because it was a book work kind of day.

That's too bad. Do you just walk home?

Yes, it's only ten minutes away.

Our TV has been stuck on the E! channel since we got home and it was about to start. It actually has been playing and reminding reviewers that her interview was soon.

That's good. So, what places do you like going to? I need a hint for tomorrow.

"I hated this stupid interview so much." Rachel groaned.

"Are we going to watch you suffer?" I asked her.

I can't tell you! I want you to surprise me!

Pls?

"Yup, but it's not obvious."

We waited the rest of the thirty agonizing minutes. From Kate's texts, she had time to change into pajamas and have a conversation with her roommate.

It's starting! Kate text.

The segment started with a loud intro, bright blue and catches your attention, and the host was a woman with a bright smile and a fashionable pantsuit. Rachel was in the same pencil dress she was in when she left the interview that day. The set was a blue backdrop with white couches and pillows.

"Welcome watchers to E! Rising Star! The show that interviews top celebrities and getting the inside scoop! Tonight, joining me is the beautiful Rachel Amber! It's so nice to have you here!"

"I'm happy to be here."

Chloe snorted, "That wasn't fake at all."

"You're becoming a household name and becoming one of the top social media stars, how does that feel, rising as quickly as you are and only being twenty-years-old?"

"It still really blows my mind! I never imagined to become as well-known as I am, but I am so grateful by it. I try my best to stay connected and let my fans know how much I love them and appreciate them. It's crazy how fast it all happened and I don't take any of it for granted."

"That's the first and last good question." Rachel seemed like she was having war flashbacks.

"How incredibly humble of you! Now, you may or may not know of certain rumors roaming around you at the moment."

"I might have an idea. You'd have to refresh my memory." Rachel's tone changed.

"Yes, in these pictures, you are seen with another woman throughout the week. Can you please enlighten us on this?" On the screen, it showed many different paparazzi and hidden pictures taken of Rachel and Chloe out-and-about San Francisco in both day and night.

"Of course, she is... the love of my life for nearly three years. I hated hiding her and not being able to talk about her or even be with her because of what people may think. To me, I don't really care what people will think of me after this, I'm more relieved than scared about this whole thing."

"Well talk about it, like what it was like before this moment? Not being able to talk about it?"

"It was for avoiding society and rejection, it was for the best. But I'm selfish and, because of that, was sick of not being able to show her off."

"Who is she?"

"I cannot disclose that without her permission."

"How old were you when you realized you were gay?"

"I was sixteen and I'm bisexual, by the way."

"Are you open to everyone in your life?"

"Yes."

Rachel groaned loudly, in absolute annoyance and irritation, "It keeps getting worse!"

Yikes, this was painful to watch. I wonder what Kate was doing.

Rachel is so nice. I can't believe people would actually hate her.

I think my roommate loves her.

How nice she called her the love of her life!

Oh gosh, my roommate is freaking out.

She is about to throw the TV.

That escalated quickly. This needed to stop.

"We don't have to watch all of it." I suggested.

"You know what, I'm okay with that. Go back to Project Runway!" Rachel waved her hand at the TV.

I did so right away and all three of us simultaneously sighing in relief.

"I knew it was fucking bad, but you didn't say it was fucking shit and garbage." Chloe pinched in between her eyes, shutting her eyes in annoyance.

"I respect her, but holy shit," Rachel grabbed her phone, "I need to take pictures."

Chloe looked confused but then Rachel hopped onto her lap and the confusion was gone.

"I could finally do this!" Rachel held her arm out, phone in hand.

"Wouldn't you want me to take that for you?" I sat lonely and only slightly jealous.

"For the first one, I want to take it. Then, I could put up that picture of us from last week! And the collage, I'm so excited!"

I watched as Rachel took a few selfies of her and Chloe: one of them just smiling, one of them kissing, and then the last one was just silly and random funny facial expressions. She stayed on her lap as she typed on her phone. She asked her from time-to-time like "can I say your name?" or "do you like these?" Rachel huffed after finishing and handed her phone to me, "Do you want to read it?"

She uploaded all three, starting with the simple smiling photo. This is Chloe. The one person in my life that makes everything hella fun and unpredictable. I wake up happily knowing she is mine and go to sleep relaxed knowing we're here together. I didn't want it to happen like this, but here we are. I've never been happier and I'm excited to finally show her. Love you. -RA

"It's beautiful, Rachel." I handed it back to her. My heart swelled with joy for them. Tomorrow was only going to be the start for me.

I wonder if she liked museums.

[heyellejaye]

A History, of sorts.

There are so many factors that go into the person we become, and how we behave.

(This is such a long post, filled with hella real real life story, so hang with me here.  I promise there’s a sweet little golden nugget of encouragement at the end.  If you just want the nugget, scroll down - I won’t be mad if you do that)

**CW: drug use, neglect, suicidal thoughts**

For as long as I can remember, I was picked on for something.  

Everything.

Anything.

Being fat (I’ve always been fat, unless I was sick)

Wearing clothes that were too promiscuous

Wearing clothes that were too christian

Being too sexual

Being a prude

Being poor

Having money

Wearing old clothes

Wearing new clothes

Being too loud

Not speaking up enough

Having normal hair

Having crazy hair

Listening to weird music

Listening to top 40 music

Eating kale and mushrooms and nutritional yeast and other vegan lovelies

Eating mcDonalds

Having only a dad at home.

Having only a mom at home.

Literally the broad spectrum of nonsense garnered ridicule from early on.

Those used to bother me, but I learned to kinda brush them off.  Of course, it still sewed something of an awareness in my fabric of how “not enough” I was.   

When I was little, I remember one night in particular, my mom making a comment about my “thunder thighs” and how I shouldn’t dance too hard because my belly and legs wobbled too much.

I was 9, she was 35.

To be fair, she was high as fuck with her friends and I was up at 11 pm watching TV on a school night in the 3rd grade, so there was far more wrong with that picture than just being mocked by my mom for being a chunky kid.

I looked at her that night and committed her image into my head. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t end up as ugly as her.   She was 35, and weathered already.  She had worn herself down... tired eyelids hung heavy over vacant, wild eyes, lined all the way around in messy black eyeliner, making her blue-green irises something of an oasis in the whole mess, soot smudges from her pipe or whatever she was smoking that night on the side of her lip.  The image is burned in my mind with incredible detail.

That night shut me down.  Vulnerability became a struggle ever since.   I still don’t really dance, because of the wobble.  I’m working on that.

I wasn’t in her care much longer after that.  I saw so many really horrible things that addiction brings to users and the people in their wake. I can go into that another day, but there are a lot of things children shouldn’t have to deal with, and substance is the catalyst for a lot of that.

My dad got custody of my flock of siblings, and my mom spiraled into her own personal hell.  I didn’t see her very often after that, and when I had a chance, I kinda avoided the opportunities.  The mom that I remember when I was little was gone.  Burned away by substance, and replaced with a shaky, tongue-chewing shell of her former self, at best.

Going through my adolescence and teen-years without a mom didn’t seem weird to me, because the years leading up to it were largely mom-less too.  She was there, but kinda only on paper.  Never really in practice.  Except for the one time she told me that if I ever wanted to try drugs, that I should do them around her and not alone.

(looking back I just have to laugh at that statement, because again, I was 9 when it happened.  bless’er tweakerass heart.)

When we went to live with my dad, we almost immediately started going to church. I’m pretty sure my dad didn’t really know what to do with all these dang kids, and my Grandma who was and still is in constant devotion to a loving Jesus, told him to get us in church, so he did.

When you come from a place of neglect and trauma, surrounded by drug abuse, attending little conservative baptist church is like jumping into an icy lake after a hot shower.  It’s a shock to the system, and takes some pretty intense adjustment in behavior.  You get used to it, but there’s a process.

So, while I know the shift from my previous life to church was beneficial, every time someone said “we don’t say those things here” or “you can’t wear that here” or “That’s not how we behave”, “you should”, “you shouldn’t” was a little icy stab into my person.  Another patch sewn into my cloak of expectations, placed on my shoulders by outside individuals.  

Going through middle school and high school and beyond I was given a whole collection of “You should” and “You shouldn’t” patches that would make any Girl Scout chartreuse with envy.   Peers, adults, teachers, well-meaning relatives, church clergy, employers, boys who liked me, girls who liked me, boys and girls I liked... all sewed expectations into my personality that felt less like adornments and more like restraints.   It was rare (and not until high school, really) that someone poured into -me- specifically, and made me feel like I can be/do/think bigger than my circumstances. There were four people that come to mind, two of whom have now passed.  

(** NOTE - If you’re an educator and maybe you feel like you’re not getting through to the kids, I promise, I PROMISE, you are. You might be the reason they believe or even know that it’s possible to rearrange their stars**)

Somewhere along the way, I developed a chameleon soul.

The shoulds and shouldn’ts were so much to carry on one person, and so limiting, so the cloak became whatever the next person wanted it to be.  It’s hard to shake the tendency to accommodate everyone else’s opinions and preferences for who I should be, but I’m working on that, too.  

Take all of that life... All of those experiences, and mix media into that screwy little cake.  Media that tells us that we need to be skinnier, blonder, taller, have better hair, better makeup, cooler activities, perfect boobs, plumpier lips, brighter eyes, better skills, whiter teeth, perfect mental health, three college degrees, a great job, sunny shiny happy days all the goddamn time.   This part has been beaten to death, but in case you haven’t heard it yet... that’s not attainable.

I was FOREVER apologizing for who I was.  I would always make excuses for why I wasn’t good enough for praise for anything. “You look so pretty” “yeah, but my hair is a mess” “I love this picture you took” “yeah, but the lighting was weird, sooo...”  Gosh, Always excuses.    

I didn’t really learn that lesson well enough early on though.  

I tried.  I did.  But my chameleon soul tried so hard to be everything to everyone and eventually won.

Seasons came and went life happened and I met a boy.  We went from zero to 60, right away.

I got pregnant fast.  I got married fast.  I lost the baby a week and a half after we got married.  I convinced myself that it was God’s will that we lost the baby because we got a fresh start. I played house a while, had a couple more babies, I was attacked by depression, but still pretended to be happy. I did so much battle with my body. Not really for any reason, either.

I was married to a man who didn’t care how I looked, like... ever.  

He didn’t care that I was getting pudgier after babies.  He only ever made commentary when he was drunk.  Which wasn’t super often, but it wasn’t super rare, either.  And that’s not to say he was an alcoholic or anything, he was just more prone to poking fun when he had a few, and I was usually the target.  

He wasn’t big on compliments, and never had favorites, so the only “feedback” I got from my husband was negative.  It kicked me deeper into the need to look better to get positive affirmation, but also... I was SO depressed.  I had two babies under two and I was drowning in my own life.  I couldn’t let anyone know though, because a not-ok version of me was not who anyone wanted me to be.   I apologized for the space I took up.  I apologized for my chubby cheeks and post-baby tummy flab, and my armpit fat, and my wonky boobs and my tired eyes. I didn’t feel like I was worth compliments, honest hugs or good sex... but I pretended to be happy.

God, I worked my ass off to show everyone how happy I was.

(spoiler alert, I wasn’t.  I wasn’t ever fucking happy.  I wasn’t even interested in being alive anymore)    I didn’t want anyone to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do to be a better version of myself, and GOD forbid I admit that my happy world was less than sterling.  Why wouldn’t I be happy?  I had a cute husband and cute kids and a cute business and a cute little chunk of land in a cute little town, I attended a trendy church... literally everything looked so perfect.    Except for the person I saw in the mirror.  

I looked in the mirror and saw those heavy eyelids over dead eyes. I saw the face of a woman I never wanted to become.

I never fell into chemical substance, instead I was addicted to being everything.  The cloak I wore was my drug... and it wasted me away.  It stole the life from my eyes.  I didn’t actively seek deterioration with drugs or alcohol, but every morning, I’d lie in bed and wonder what I could do to end the parade.

I wasn’t ok, and I couldn’t talk about it with just anyone, but I had a couple of far-away friends with whom I could share the heavy thoughts.  They were ears and shoulders when I needed them to be.  They didn’t know JUST how heavy the thoughts were, but they were there for the parts I was willing to share.  They encouraged.  They challenged my self doubt and allowed space for me to be proud of myself for small reasons, and then big reasons.   They spoke life into my too-tired heart.  

I decided in that season of life that I would choose my good self. I would make choices that lead to a healthier mind. I would choose deep-down-in-my-bones joy.  I decided that I would live. Not just be alive, but -live-.  I decided that I would create things that I loved.  I’d hug with my whole self.  No ass-out hugs.  When someone fell into my arms, they would know that I wanted them there.

I decided to be better for myself and wear a face that my children could remember with fondness and not be ashamed of when they saw the same face in the mirror.  

I decided to choose to be a light for the people that cross my path, as often as I can.   I can’t build their path, but I CAN shine a light so maybe they can find their own.  

I’ve lived a whole life since that season, which is a completely different novel in itself, but the time between has been a healing space.  It’s been a big mistake making space, and a growing space and a hurting space, but the forward motion is remarkable.

I’m a week away from 35.  I hadn’t given a lot of thought to the significance of this age until lately.  I look at my whole self in the mirror and I’m proud of who I am.  I like the face I see in the mirror.  I like the way my eyes shine in pictures.  

I like the life they carry. I like my big soft body.  I like that I’m a safe place to land for my children.  I like that I can wrap hugs around my friends.  I like that my big strong legs can carry me up a mountain, even if I get a little out of breath.  I like that I’ve created humans and I’ve eaten yummy food with people I love.  I am pretty active sometimes, and sometimes I lose a little weight, and sometimes I gain a little weight, and I can’t complain too much because this body serves me so well.  I’m fat, but I also think I’m quite lovely. I don’t see those as opposing adjectives.  Fatness and loveliness can hold hands and play happily.

I have shortcomings.  I deal with some thick anxiety sometimes, and sometimes I eat too many pieces of pizza, then I feel like I need a nap, and sometimes I still take on too much, trying to be all of the things all of the time to everyone,and then I completely drop the ball and let people down...  but I’m working on making better decisions and facing that kooky anxious stuff head on.  It’s a process.

I’m a recovering chameleon.  I’m trying my best every day to not attempt to be everything to everyone, but I struggle.

The shoulds and shouldn’ts still weigh heavy on my shoulders, and some days I wear the cloak longer than others.  Trying to be free of it causes its own issues, but my feet are pointed in the right direction, I think.  

(here’s the nugget if you’re just joining from the top)

I am not the words that other people have placed on me.

I am not the opinions of other people.  

I am not the expectations of other people.

I am not the tragedy I have seen

I am not the circumstances from which I have walked.

I am not the mistakes I have made.

I am not the successes I have gathered.

I am not my illness

I am not my family

I am not everything to everyone.

And neither are you.

I’m not ok sometimes. And sometimes... I’m so ok.

I’m more than ok, I’m incredible, and I believe that the future is only more brilliant than the already radiant now.  

I hope for you, if any of this resonates with you, that you also can see your own radiance.  Not the cloak of shoulds and shouldn’ts that other people have put on your shoulders.  

I hope you really live, and you do the things you love, and you overflow with abundant joy that spills onto the people around you. I hope that when people hug you, they know that you want them there, and I hope that you only hug people you want to hug.  

I hope you know that the body you’re in is a miracle.  The odds of you being here are FOUR TRILLION to one.  You could have showed up in this life as a toaster.  But you’re not.  You’re an incredible being, capable of fat tears and belly laughs and loving someone so much it hurts and inspiring hope and surviving really heavy shit.   Toasters can’t do any of that.

And I hope upon hope that the person you see in the mirror is someone you like.  

[ticklygiggles]

Let me give you the world (SFW)

A/N: Hello! So i’ve been hella inactive, so i wrote this thingy with OtaYuri to celebrate a very late Valentine’s day. It’s heeeelllaaaaa long, but I hope you guys enjoy it. It was fun to write ♥ I think Yuri is like 18 here or something?? I don’t know, maybe??

There’s no proofreading at the end because I’m way too lazy guys, help

Words: 3,541 (I am so so sorry omg, under the cut for obvious reasons)

Otabek opened his eyes at the first ring of his alarm, (Yuri hates him so much because he’s the kind of person that gets up when it’s time), he poked a hand out of the blankets to turn it off, not wanting to wake up Yuri just yet.

Once the alarm was off he turned around to leave a kiss on Yuri’s forehead like every morning, however, he was surprised to find out that Yuri wasn’t laying right beside him, instead, a pink note was laying on his partner’s pillow. Otabek frowned, rubbing the sleepiness off his eyes and taking the folded note in his fingers. His name written in Yuri’s elegant calligraphy.

Otabek, I prepared like the cheesiest shit for Valentine’s day. You can’t laugh. Go to the kitchen.

-Yuri

Otabek felt his cheeks getting warm as a big smile started to pull at the corners of his mouth. He got up with a jump, walking (more like running) towards the kitchen. Yuri Plisetsky preparing something for Valentine’s day? The the Yuri Plisetsky who gets all flustered when Otabek brushes his har with his fingers? That’s definitely something forward to see.

He stopped by the entrence of the kitchen when a delicious smell filled his nostrils. He peeked into the room and his mouth watered when he saw his favorite breakfast waiting for him in the counter, a tablet and another pink note laying beside it.

Press play, dork

-Yuri

Otabek turned on the tablet and pressed play to the vide where he saw Yuri leaning against the counter.

“Yo, Otabek”, he brushed his blonde hair back with his hand. “Ah, I think I should say something… sweeter…”, he cleared his throat, looking away as his hand traveled down to scratch at the back of his neck, Otabek noticed how his cheeks started to turn pink. “Good morning, Altin. I made your favorite breakfast and also the smoothie you like, that one is in the frige”, he pointed to the fridge in the video and Otabek turned just to see another pink note.

“I can’t be there with you because I have more things prepared for you”, a happy smile broke into Yuri’s face. “But enjoy this breakfast because I woke up very early to make it! A-ah… and I made it with love”, Otabek laughed and at the same time Yuri did in the video. “Enjoy your breakfast and keep following the notes!”, he waved and the video ended.

Otabek was tempted to replay the video, but he remebered the note in the fridge, so with long steps he made his way to it, opening it up as soon as he took it.

Your smoothie is inside! After breakfast you’ll have to go to /men’s shop/ and said to the first employee you see that you came for "My best present ever”, like that, if you don’t say it they’ll not give it to you

-Yuri

Otabek rolled his eyes, reading the note over and over again. He could hear Yuri's voice inside his head and his heart was jumping excitedly at Yuri's next surprise. So far, Otabek didn't know what to expect, turning back at his breakfast his stomach growled, desperate to dig in that glorious-looking plate, though, Otabek started to lead to the bathroom before anything else. His bladder about to explode.

He found another pink note in the bathroom’s mirror.

You look stunning today.

-Yuri ❤”

When Otabek got inside the store, two guys were all over him, expectation on their eyes as they welcomed him.

“Are you looking for something in special, sir?”, one of them said, flashing a white smile as he opened his arms, inviting Otabek further inside.

“Erm… actually yeah”, he cleared his throat. “I- I came for uh…”, he felt warm spreading on his cheeks as the employees looked more excited by the time.

Otabek sighed out. “I came for m-my best present ever”. Both guys whistled and threw heart confetti at Otabek, who had his face as red as a tomato. Another guy came up, landing him a box with the company’s brand. Otabek thanked him and turned on his heels, ready to exit the store and hide his head in the concrete street.

“Ah, sir!”, Otabek jumped a little. “Mr. Yuri Plisetsky was very clear about this: ‘He has to open it here and I want you to record it and send it to me’, he said" Otabek nearly whimpered, biting his tongue and swalling a little bit of embarrassment.

He looked down at the floor in case of seeing part of his dignity falling.

“Please, sir, open the present”, Otabek looked up again just to see how the three of them had their phones pointing up at him. With a dramatic gulp, he started to open the present. His heart beating against his ribs.

His eyes narrowed a little when he saw a flawless three parts black suit folded inside the box. A pink note on top.

You’ll need this later. Now, tell the guys who gave you your present: ‘can I have my real present now?’

-Yuri

Otabek looked up at the cellphones. “Can- can i have my real present now?”, people were starting to look and gathering around a little and Otabek knew Yuri was making all of this to embarrass him to death. That damn fairy. One of the over excited guys landed him another box and Otabek quickly opened, widening his eyes when he saw the jacket he wanted for months.

The pink note read:

I know you wanted this so bad, and I also know you kept thinking that you’ll need that money you’ll spend in this jacket in something more important. So that’s why I’m in charge and I bought it to you.

Your next stop is that toy store we got in the other day and you said it looked fun. When you get there you’ll have to say ‘is my honeybunny here?’

-Yuri

Otabek didn’t notice he was smiling out of his mind until a voice brought him back from his thoughts. “I guess Mr. Yuri is going to be happy with three videos of this moment”, Otabek nodded, thanking one hundred times before finally make his way towards his next stop.

He opened pushed the toy store's door open and stepped inside- wait… H-Honeybunny?!

He desperately started to look for the note in his pocket, but was interrupted when a young lady welcomed him. “Morning sir”, she smiled, lacing her hands from behind. “Can we help you in something?”

He knew they were waiting for him here too. And again, he sighed. “Yes. Is- is my honeybunny here?”, the lady giggled, making Otabek more embarrassed.

“It’s not here, sir”, Otabek gasped, blushing to the tip of his ears, he bowed apologetically.

“I’m- I’m sorry! Oh God, I-”

“However”, she said, walking towards the counter and, grabbing a red box, she made her way back to a very embarrassed Otabek. “Your kittenfluff and teddybun are here”, Otabek cringed noticeably and the young lady laughed. “Those were Mr. Yuri Plisetsky’s rules and he said you’ll cringe like that”, she stuck her tongue out playfully, lending the box to Otabek. He took it with shaky hands.

“I can’t believe him”, he chuckled when he saw what was inside the box, taking out the tiny plush in his hands.

It was Yuri and him. Both with silly grumpy faces. Yuri wearing black jeans and the sweater he bought back in Japan, a pair of cat ears above his head. Its little fingerless hand was holding onto Otabek’s. He, aswell, was wearing black jeans, a black shirt, the jacket Yuri just got for him, and little bear ears on top of his head.

Just… how he did that?

Aren’t they amazing? One of the Yuri Angels makes those things and I asked her to make it! She was so excited.

You’re almost finish now, Otabek. Now I need you to go to that candy shop where you always get those damn very sweet candies, and say ‘the only white chocolate I like is Yuri Plisetsky’

-Yuri

“They’re really cute~”, Otabek looked up and flinched when he saw another phone camera pointing at him. “Mr. Plisetsky’s orders!”, Otabek smiled and nodded, thanking and holding his new present, riding back to his motorcycle towards the new station.

He blushed when he stepped into the candy store. Oh shit.

“…The- the only white chocolate I like is… Yuri Plisetsky”, the girl helping him there giggled, pulling out yet another box for Otabek's gifts collection.

“That’s why he asked us to do this in dark chocolate”, Otabek opened the box, blushing heavily when he saw the content of it:

I LOVE YOU OTABEK ALTIN

Each word made with solid dark chocolate. By now Otabek really needed to wrap Yuri on his arms and love him forever and ever and ever. The happiness was starting to built inside his chest, tingling and fluterring down to the tip of his toes-

“I’m sorry”, he said when he noticed the girl looking up at him, expectantly. He took the note:

Isn’t this cool? You can eat it if you want, of course.

Otabek, your last task is coming back at home. Get in your new suit and meet me outside that elegant restaurant you really like. Don't be late.

-Yuri

Made your favorite breakfast, your favorite smoothie. That clothing store you like, that toy store we were in. That candy store, you're favorite restaurant.

As Otabek was changing into his suit, he thought about his day. The jacket was hanging in his closet, label still on the sleeve. The plush laying in the middle of their bed, with grumpy faces and all and the chocolate in the kitchen counter (far away from his sweet teeth); he was still surprised about how Yuri knows him so well.

How all the places he was at, were places where he was once with Yuri. Those places meant nothing before this day, but now, somehow, were special. Somehow Yuri turned daily places into meaningful moments and that was enough to make Otabek beam with happiness.

Regardless, he totally wasn't ready to see Yuri in a suit himself.

"Ah, Otabek!", Yuri nearly screeched excitedly, rushing towards his perplexed boyfriend, who was about two metters away. "Otabek!", he repeated, jumping on him and wrapping his arms and legs around Otabek. "Hey! Did you like my presents?!", Yuri took Otabek's face between his hands, looking straight into his eyes.

Yuri's green eyes were shining like emeralds, looking back and forth between Otabek's eyes and gaped mouth. He giggled when his lover kept quite.

"O-ta-bek!", he pinched Otabek's nose in each pause, making him blink back to reality. "What are you thinking? Did you like the presents?"

Seriously, Yuri's smile was breath taking and Otabek was sure as hell that he was so in love in Yuri, it was insane how fast his heart was beating, he wondered if Yuri could feel it against him. Otabek smiled, pressing a soft kiss on Yuri's lips and chuckling at the blush creeping on Yuri's cheeks.

"I did like them very much, Yuri. Thank you", Yuri rolled his eyes, pressing back a kiss on Otabek's lips and jumping off of him.

"You're starting to get cheesy and I am the only one who can be cheesy today", he interwinded his fingers with Otabek's, leading him towards the restaurant. “Why are you being so tense?”, he asked, pinching Otabek’s side and chuckling when the latter jumped and gasped. “Oh? Ticklish?”, he smirked.

“Y-You know I am”, Yuri nodded, not saying anything else as he kept guiding Otabek towards their destination, their bodies leaning together and blushes spreading on their faces.

"Stop laughing, Otabek!", Yuri whined, hitting Otabek's arm with his fist as Otabek covered his face with the menu card, trying to hold it the laughter, his body shaking slightly.

For some reason, all the events of the day drove Otabek out of his mind, so when Yuri asked him what were his favorite present, Otabek completely lost it, snorting and covering his mouth to hide his laugher and then covering his whole face when it started to turn red.

"You're crazy! Are you laughing at me?", Yuri was starting feel slightly concerned and offended at Otabek's behavior, however, Otabek quickly shook his head, blindly looking for Yuri's hands above the table, squeezing it weakly when he found it as he kept shaking with laughter.

It was nice to hear Otabek's laughter, though, well... more like gasping as he kept trying not to laugh out loud. Oh.

"Otabek. Stop laughing now!", Yuri started to smirk, letting go of Otabek's hands and clawing his own hand. "Fine, do as you wish, Otabek", he bit his lip and quickly vibrated his hand on Otabek's ribs, making him bark out a laugh and flinch away from the touch, Yuri felt his cheeks hot when he saw a few people turning their heads towards the conmomtion.

Otabek uncovered his face, his hand covering the tingly stop as he stared at Yuri, he almost looked mad, but his cheeks all red and that smile over his mouth took away any anger expression on him.

"D-Don't do that, Yuri", he hissed, traying to sound discreet.

"Then stop laughing, why are you even lau- Don't laugh!", he said when he saw Otabek's smiling widening slightly. "Okay, Otabek, you asked for it", he reached again for Otabek's ribs, squeezing them before Otabek could react and not stopping after onw squeeze, but continuing until Otabek was giggling like a school girl.

"Sorry for interrumping, young men. Could I take your orders?", they both jumped in surprised, Otabek hiding his face in his hands and Yuri blushing slightly.

"Ah, yes, please", he looked over at Otabek. "You just wait until we get home, Otabek", he whispered, looking over again at the waiter, smiling a little as he told him their orders.

All the process to unlock the door and open it was a playful torture to Otabek, Yuri kept glancing teasey looks at him, making him shiver and giggle in anticipation. He tried to block Yuri's hand trying to sneak some pokes and squeezes, while his other hand was busy trying on unlocking the door.

As soon as it was open, Otabek moved Yuri to the side, running inside the house towards the master bedroom, his plan: locking himself inside the room.

"Get back here!", Otabek shrieked when he felt Yuri's fingers brushing against his back, he was faster than he thought, dammit.

"N-no, nonono, Yuri!", Otabek giggled, shrieking again when Yuri finally caught him, right at the entrence of the room. He jumped on Otabek's back, making him fall face first into the hard floor. "Oh God, it hu- no! Wait! Wahahait!", Yuri lost no time in dig up and down into Otabek's sides and taking a sit on Otabek's butt.

"No waiting, Otabek. You ruined our dinner. You totally didn't", he whispered the last part. "And embarrassed us! Actually, you only embarrassed yourself", he whispered again, his nimble fingers squeezing this soft spot right under Otabek's ribs, Otabek giggling and laughing and squirming underneath Yuri. "So this is what you get for being a meanie on our Valentine's date!"

"Y-Yuri!", Otabek, gasped, trying to grab Yuri's hands but then squeaking when Yuri dived his hands up into Otabek's underarms, he tilted his head up and pressed his arms to his sides as best as he could. "Yuri plehehease! I'm sorry!", his legs were kicking behind Yuri and he giggled seeing the always stoic Otabek laughing and shrieking for once.

"Are you now? I don't know. You don't seem very sorry to me, Otabek", Yuri lifted himself a bit and Otabek tried to crawl away from him. "Oi! Where are you going?", he got a hold of Otabek's hips, dragging him back, nevertheless, Yuri almost let him go again when flinched, startled by Otabek's loud shrieking as he tried to pry Yuri's hands away from his hips.

"Oh?", he squeezed again and again Otabek shrieked. "Interesting...", Otabek's struggles grew harder, but Yuri quickly turned him onto his back and straddled Otabek's stomach. Yuri trapped his hands under his knees and Otabek gasped.

"Y-Yuhuri! Please, please, please not there, Yura!", Yuri giggled, leaning down to kiss Otabek's nose as he whispered over his lips.

"Don't worry, Otabek, this will only tickle a little", those were his last words before their whole apartment was filled with Otabek's hysterical laughter as Yuri drilled his thumbs right in the center of Otabek's hipbones.

“Ah! So here’s where Otabek’s laughter lives!”, Yuri teased, pressing his thumbs harder against Otabek’s hips, massaging circles over the bones until Otabek had his back arched and his head threw back against the floor.

Yuri almost felt bad. Almost.

Barks of laughter leaving his body as he tried to dislog Yuri’s fingers away from his hips, but, in that little corner of his mind that hasn’t been attacked and overwhelmed by the maddening sensations, he knew his movements weren’t going to save him from this.

He was in doubt he was moving at all, the only thing he knew for sure is that he was feeling even more ticklish than three seconds ago.

He gasped, breathing in some oxygen to let it out in a loud attack of hysterical laughter. “Yuri!”, he shrieked. His cheeks becoming a deep shape of red and his nose scrunched up as the tingly sensations crawled up from his hips towards his stomach.

“What is it, Otabek? Can I help you with something?”, Yuri giggled when Otabek nodded his head furiously. “Yeah? How?”

“Stohohop!”, Otabek laughed, his hips twisting from side to side when Yuri started to pinch them, too close to that spot where his thigh meets his hip, where he was, in fact, the most ticklish. Otabek shook his head, laughing out of his mind.

“Oh, sorry, Otabek. I can’t stop right now. You’ll see… I can’t control my hands”, he smirked when Otabek snorted. “They just want to stay here, you know?”, Otabek shook his head, snorting again and then back to hysterics.

Otabek's eyes started to water up and soon the first tears of laughter were falling down the sides of his face, getting lost in the line of his hair.

“But…”, Yuri started, knowing Otabek was reaching his limits as his laughter became raspy and wheezy. “If you really want them to stop, you’ll have to say I'm the most amazing boyfriend ever and that you had the most amazing Valentine's ever”

Otabek nodded as his laughter abandoned him and his body shook weakly.

“Okay, I think that’s a deal, then!”, Yuri let go of Otabek’s hipbones, pressing the palm of his hands on top of them to calm down Otabek’s nerves. At first he jumped, still giggling hysterically, but when he knew Yuri wasn’t going to attack again, he relaxed under the pressing touch.

Residual giggles still escaping from where Otabek’s laughter lives. When he was calmed down, Yuri lifted both of his knees a little and helped Otabek pulling his hands out of the trap.

“Are you okay?”, he leaned down a little, his hand reaching for Otabek’s forehead, whiping away the sweat and tears from his face. Otabek nodded again, breathing heavily and opening his eyes, tiredly. “You look adorable”

“Y-Yura”, he started, giggling and scrunching his shoulders up when Yuri pinched the lobe of his ear in a affectionate way. “Thahat was horrible”.

“Was it now? I think it was very fun”, Otabek rolled his eyes and placed his hands on Yuri's thighs, Yuri smiled fondly down at him, placing his hands on Otabek's chest, feeling his beating heart against his palms.

They stayed like that for minutes and minutes, staring at each other eyes and smiling at each other as their beathing slowed down completely.

"You know", Otabek started, looking away from Yuri's eyes. "I got you something, too"

Yuri's eyes lighten up. "Really?! Where it is?!"

"In that drawer"; he pointed where Yuri usually doesn't get his head in. He jumped off of Otabek, running to where his present was, Otabek got on his shaky feet, too. Sitting in the soft bed.

He heard Yuri gasp before he turned around with tears in his eyes. "Otabek!", he jumped from where he was standing right into Otabek, hugging him with four limbs.

Otabek chuckled, hugging Yuri back. "Did you like it?"

"I love it too much! Thank you!", He pulled apart, kissing Otabek's face and getting on his feet again, placing the heart-freamed photo of him and otabek smiling at each other in the most cheesy way possible on top of his nightstand "It's so beautiful".

"I'm glad you liked, Yuri. I shouldn't give it to you, tho. You almost tickled to death", Yuri laughed, looking up at Otabek.

"Oh, but I am going to tickle you again", Otabek widened his eyes.

"Why?!"

"You hid this from me! When were you going to tell me?! You deserve to be punished for that too!", he wiggled his fingers at Otabek,

"W-wait! We were having dinner and- and then you pounced on me and I- wait! Wahahait plehehease!"