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#third day of my trip i got sick as a dog
vitalconviction · 8 months
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plane drawing from a few days ago :)
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gauloiseblue · 5 months
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Gauloiseblue's Bookmarks
A/N: Since there's no bookmark system like they had in AO3, I decide to make one on this site. Will update the list from time to time.
COD
Price
[The True Me] by @i-am-hungry-24-7 Useless by @syoddeye Lazy Saturday Mornings by @clementine-thedestroyer Price and Beauty Mark by @ohmygraves Growing older with john price. by @obsessivelullabies Growing older with john price; smut. by @obsessivelullabies Ex-husband price, but the “ex” lays on significantly blurred lines now. by @captainfern Ex Husband!Price by @moongreenlight (A/N: you have NO idea what this fic had done to me) The boys all collectively realize that you are the captain’s favourite by @dante-mightdie weird HC by @theycalledhimastar
Gaz
lavender skies by @yeyinde (A/N: Gaz girlie, please read this I'm begging-) I may love Kyle, but I can totally admit when he acts like a total weirdo (he doesn’t, he’s perfect). by @theycalledhimastar
König
Ex-Lover Konig with runaway reader by @diejager Dog Hybrid König by @comfortless Hades!Konig and Persephone!reader by @comfortless Aroura Borealis by @clementine-thedestroyer Underground Fighter!König X Rich!Reader by @melancholic-thing
Soap
Rugby player soap fucks you after a win by @vanderilnde Pushy ass cbf!johnny and benefit pay by @shotmrmiller Valentine Days with Soap by @killerpancakeburger cbf!johnny as the dog he is by @ghouljams
Ghost
soulmate au with ghost but it's the fucking opposite of rainbows and sunshine by @bi-writes
Poly/HC
Fancy (Vampire! Poly! 141 x Plus size! Fem! Reader) by @swordsandholly 141 80’s Arcade AU by @clementine-thedestroyer TF141 and "can I try your drink?" By @syoddeye (A/N: don't @ me) 141 when they need attention by @void-my-warranty TF141 when you gave him hickey when you're drunk by @gloomwitchwrites
The Arcana
Asra's Love by @bahrtofane Teen Asra and puppy love headcanons by @smoke-and-silver Trip adventures with Asra by @smoke-and-silver Arcana and Weddings (fanarts) by @bastart13
Random/Miscellaneous
A/N: I put all of the Ghost Band stuff here bc I'm not officially into the fandom, but they're so irresistible to read hnggg
THEN // if (then) FINAL PART (Ghoap Comic) Roach's puppy eyes Korangi pt. 1 Korangi pt .2 Korangi (sus) pt. 3 Korangi (even more sus) pt. 4 Ghoap food pt. 1 👍👍 Self-care (Ghoap short comic) Capt Price having a cheeky wank (audio) Barry Sloane thirst trap (maybe) Bare chested Barry- Barry ugly ass poems (i'm horny) Barry Sloane seducing clip ASMR Barry talking ASMR Barry (Price) pt. 2 The band Ghost wildin' Ghost band shenanigan: part 1 The Ghouls + Rut Season (HC) Swiss meets red velvet ‘you’ve got to press it on you.’ (Ghost Band HC) Nameless Ghoul NSFW headcanons Swiss relationship and NSFW headcanons .... yeah I'm normal I swear St. Vincent *heart eyes* Miyazaki's Retirement Declarations (chronologically) Hayao Miyazaki's "Inspirational" Quotes The Hand
Web Weave | Poetry
not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing [what would happen between earth and the moon if the earth stopped spinning as illustrated by xkcd randall munroe] - Lyudmilla Ignatenko, the wife of deceased firefighter Vasily Ignatenko, Voices from Chernobyl, by Svetlana Alexeivich (transl. Keith Gessen) Robin Wood, “Psychoanalysis of Psycho” | Stoker (2013) dir. Park Chan-wook Stoker (2013) dir. Park Chan-wook and "The Lady of the House of Love" by Angela Carter This Is Me (Stoker 2013) Rice Paddies Home (What Is Home?) Whenever I see you, I remember AM I MAKING YOU FEEL SICK? // DEVOTION THAT EATS YOU ALIVE
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littleplantfreak · 2 months
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Can I have a B L T with a side of F for the self shipping asks please?
♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡ A BLT with a side of Fries a la Umemiya served up with love Em!!
B - Bashful what’s something one finds embarrassing about themselves but the other finds adorable?
-Maybe how red I turn all the time? I get teased about it and get redder and he's just in love with that, the cheesy guy. He'll try his best to make me as red as possible while i'm trying to fan myself off.
-Does he find anything embarrassing? If I somewhat forward or surprise him, he makes a little noise in his throat and you can see him buffering and if I call him out on it, he's like "what noise? I didn't hear anything?" (it was pretty much his heart jumping in his throat i think)
L - Love when did they realize they were in love?
-I guess if he went on a trip or vacation it would hit me real quick. Bofurin beach trip but I have to stay home because of work? The first day is fine. Quiet but fine. After the third day I'd be getting teary eyed every time i thought about him so I would just not think about him. When he comes back though, waterworks immediately and I'm thinking in my head as im tackling him "I've gotta lock in"
-When I take care of him when he's sick for the first time maybe? I won't let him lift a finger, let alone feed himself. Do NOT get up unless you're going to the bathroom or want a bath drawn. Even then, if he's got a fever I'm sitting with my back against the door checking in with him every couple minutes because im nervous he'll pass out in there. He's probably thinking 'god I shouldn't get used to this but i could spend the rest of my life feeling this way'
T - Touchy do they like PDA? How do they like to cuddle?
-We both like PDA but he's more shameless with it. He'll tone it down if I ask him to, but i'm pretty easily swayed into it after a while. Puppy dog eyes are a hell of a drug. He likes to latch on anyway he can like a barnacle. I prefer just straddling him and laying on his chest so i don't sweat to death by 170+ lbs squashing me into the bed
F - Flirt do they flirt? If so how do they flirt?
-I'm apparently good at flirting but im not actually trying to flirt? I would only actively flirt after we'd been dating a while, but i would be insanely bold and cheesy about it. Hiragi thought i was normal and realizes quick that I'm just as bad as Ume
-He could flirt but he's goofy with it most of the time because his intent certainly is to make me blush but he also wants me to laugh, so he goes the corny route. Sometimes he give such a cocky look when im pushing my luck with him that it doesn't matter what comes out of his mouth, i'm stepping back like nervously excited if that's considered flirting too.
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vxnillite · 2 years
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ZNoah comfort drabble
context: During their last field trip, Z-Dog was nearly killed by a pack of creatures that Noah had stubbornly insisted on taking a closer look at. It reminded them of when their brother had died from very similar circumstances, and the trauma and the flashbacks pushed Noah into a downward spiral of self-blame and self-neglect.
Disclaimer: I'm not trying to imply that this is specifically how people should react to a person having a panic attack. I based a lot of things about Noah on myself, and the descriptions here are kind of based on my own experiences with panic attacks, and how I wish I was comforted in those situations. So yeah, this is self-indulgent.
CW: mentions of self-harm, swearing
Grace wasn't surprised to know that Noah had called in sick again today, making it the third sick day in a row. That meant that they'd officially used up all their sick days for the month, but also that what happened on their last field trip was still eating up at Noah.
But Grace wasn't going to leave the poor kid alone wallowing in their own thoughts and self-pity any longer. At lunch break, Grace came around to Noah's quarters where she found them huddled in the far corner of the room, legs squashed against their chest and their face buried between their knees. Apart from the ticking clock on the wall, the room was dead silent.
"Noah," Grace crooned as she approached the bed, sitting right on the edge.
"Grace, please..." Noah could barely speak. "Not now..."
Grace stayed seated on the edge of the bed. "Have you visited her yet?"
Silence. Grace understood that as a 'no.'
"She'd want to see you," she continued.
"To kill me, for sure," Noah spat in one breath.
"You can ask her that yourself."
The door hissed open, followed by footsteps that sounded too familiar to Noah. They panicked, but still didn't look up.
No, they couldn't even bear the thought of meeting Zdinarsk's eyes after what happened.
Grace walked out of the room after a small exchange with Zdinarsk, who stood in the corner of the room opposite to Noah.
"First off, I'm not leaving even if you beg me to," Zdinarsk said. "Second, I—"
"You could've died."
"Right off the bat, huh? Alright then." 
Zdinarsk got on the bed and sat in the middle, leaving a bit of space between her and Noah. Then, just as she was about to touch their arm, a poorly stifled, erratic sobbing echoed from the scientist, whose body began to quiver violently.
There was only one other instance that Noah had come undone like this, completely removed from the brash, cold attitude they usually had.
Zdinarsk immediately caught Noah in her arms. Instantly, she felt their head burning, undoubtedly feverish. But she pulled Noah in as tightly as she could, even lightly wrapping her legs around their body. Still, they remained tense within her embrace.
"I'm sorry." Noah constantly repeated between fickle breaths.
"Hey, now," Zdinarsk crooned as she stroked their hair. "Noah, listen to me."
"It was all my fault."
"Breathe with me."
"I'm sorry."
"Focus on my voice."
"You could've died."
"But I'm right here, right now, Noah. I need you here with me, too."
As Noah still kept wheezing, Zdinarsk would continue to stroke their head, running her fingers through their hair the way they liked it. A few minutes passed, and Noah gradually started to calm down.
Zdinarsk smiled as she felt Noah's breathing calm down. "There you go," she encouraged, then she kissed them softly on the top of their head. "You're safe with me, remember?" 
Noah, still in a daze, laid the side of their head on Zdinarsk's shoulder as they took a few more deep breaths. The last one seemed more like a heavy sigh — full of dejection — as they saw the bandages on the soldier's arm. 
Ever since the field trip, images of Zdinarsk's near-death had been flashing and mixing with the vivid memory of Kevin's own demise in Noah's mind. Because of it, they haven't had any proper sleep as the visions still haunted even their dreams. They haven't eaten either, the guilt telling them they didn't deserve to eat.
Seeing Zdinarsk's entire arm bandaged only fuelled that guilt.
Noah clutched their brother's jacket tighter, fingers fidgeting. "I'm really sorry," they started, voice weak and dry, "I should've listened to you. I shouldn't have gone to that nest. If I'd just stayed put, you—"
"Look, what's done is done," Zdinarsk said, "2 days ago, I was still mad, of course. But now..." She squeezed the scientist reassuringly. "I'm just glad we both got back in one piece."
Zdinarsk peered over at Noah, but they wouldn't meet her eyes. They just sniffled and kept scratching their wrist, a habit that the soldier had begun to notice a while back. So she clasped her hand around Noah's own to stop them, but she also didn't say a word as she waited for Noah to calm down again.
Minutes later, the scientist broke the silence. "I filed some papers to get you off my security."
"What," Zdinarsk sputtered, "Noah—Why would you do that?"
"I have to."
"No, you don't, Noah. And you didn't tell me?"
Noah clicked their tongue. "Kasi I knew you'd react this way!"
Zdinarsk didn't want to be mad, but she was. "Why did you even think of—"
"Kasi, what if you actually die the next time?!"
With Noah finally looking straight at her, Zdinarsk had a clear view of them — rather, the aftermath of their emotional and psychological turmoil that had gone on for the past days. Puffy, red eyes, dried up tear streaks all over their cheeks... And Zdinarsk had never seen them this pale and hollow before.
"I try so hard, Z," they choked, hysterical, "So fucking hard to be a little less stupid and reckless out there. But I know that you know… I'm a ticking time bomb—a fucking accident waiting to happen! Eh, if it's going to happen anyway, edi sana—"
Zdinarsk grabbed Noah by the forearms and forced them to look at her. "Don't you finish that sentence," she chastised, feeling her own heart pound with anticipation.
Stubbornly, Noah finished it anyway. "I'd rather be the one to die out there than have you die because of me, Z." Then, they added softly, "I could never forgive myself if that happens again."
"Noah… How many times do I have to tell you this?" Zdinarsk's hands traveled down to the scientist's own and squeezed them. "Nothing out there is gonna kill me."
"Putangina, 'di mo 'yon alam!" [You don't fucking know that!]
"Yes, I do."
The soft chuckle in her voice made it hard for Noah to quip back.
The soldier continued, slowly pulling Noah back towards her. "You study these animals, right? You watch them aaaall day and make your little notes on them. And some of those notes are about how they hunt or attack, and we go over those notes together, right?" 
From the look on their face, Zdinarsk knew that Noah understood what she meant. Their muscles relaxed again; their gaze, once frenzied, then softened. 
"I know nothing out there is gonna get me because it's your research that helps me know what I'm dealing with—which kinda means you're the one keeping me alive out there."
Zdinarsk expected them to crack even the slightest smile — a chuckle, at best — but she nearly fell over when Noah threw themselves at her for a tight hug that said all the words that were left hanging in their chest, everything that they couldn't say without crumbling into incoherence all over again.
Noah smiled as they felt Zdinarsk hug them back. Of course, their face was hidden, buried snugly in the crook of the soldier's neck.
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lun2523 · 1 year
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Regarding Uvalde, My Thoughts.
Hello, no one here knows me, or at least none of you should. Its been over a year since one of the most traumatic events of my life happened. It was a Tuesday and school was set to let out that Thursday, the seniors from the local high school were doing mini parades around every school in the district. Earlier that day they had walked around our school, when it happened I was in Spanish class, our actual teacher was out with the Spanish club in San Antonio for a club field trip. It was a normal day, there had been a walkout in protest of something that is now so unremarkable that I no longer remember.
I didn't have the district issued I-Pad that was handed out to everyone in the district with me that day, my friend was the first sign that something was wrong. She received a phone call from her father, who got the news from his brother, her uncle, I didn't hear what he said to her, but from the look on her face it wasn't good.
There was a district wide email sent out to everyone calling for a district wide lockout, it differs from a lockdown in that its business as usual but you confirm that the door(s) are locked. That day we had a substitute teacher, she wasn't able to lock the door. The news slowly trickled in, I bounced from one person to another asking for any information they had, any news.
One person was in a group chat that received a video of the man entering the backdoor of Robb shot from someone inside their car.
Someone said he shot his grandmother in the face.
Another said he crashed his truck into a ditch and that Robb was his intended destination.
Someone said there was a shooter at the high school and that it was a coordinated attack.
All we knew that day was that something horrible and life changing was happening, and there was nothing we could do besides sit and wait.
Have any of you have a memory so traumatic that you feel certain parts of it are burned into your brain? Its like that with exiting the school, we were the first class escorted out of Morales Junior High, i was the third out of the building. Some man from the Sheriffs office pointed a gun at us, demanded we put our hands on top of our head and be lead single file out of the school. I was so scared, but I hadnt shed any tears yet, I think it was the shock.
There were parents lined up on the other side of the street craning their heads and yelling, there was a police barricade preventing them from getting into the school. I had to borrow a phone from a sheriff to call my dad since I couldn't see him anywhere. It was borderline chaos but all I cared about was getting to my dad, when I found him, he hugged me. His dog, Whiskey, cuddled into my lap while cried in his work truck, he took me home.
You know, a lot of things went through my mind following Robb, but the most prominent one was this- 'Your thoughts and prayers do nothing' I hate people who dare to use this tragedy to garner something for themselves and only themselves, i grieve for the children who cowered in those classrooms while that madman killed their friends and family.
My friend has a sister who was supposed to be in one of those classrooms that day, it was horrible watching her cry out, relieved, that her sister wasn't dead
I despise the people who try to use this event for selfish reasons.
I lost a part of me that day, I think most people in Uvalde did that day, most don't understand the feeling and thoughts that come from that event and I feel disgust for people that wish an event like this happens to them or anyone they know.
Its not a joke and I'm sick of keeping quiet about it.
For Uvalde
For Victims
For America
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woodelf68 · 2 years
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FAIR PLAY Summary: He'd never had Thor's gift of making friends easily. But perhaps moving to a new town had changed Loki's luck. For once, things are going his way. Non-magic AU, a very late fill for the @sifkiweek 2022 prompt "Stranger". Rated G. Wordcount: 11,812.
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Thor was going to lose, Loki thought, his eyes going between his brother and his main competitor, a burly, red-bearded man who was shoving hot dogs down his throat at a truly impressive speed. Thor was giving the guy a run for this money – he had always had a hearty appetite and had entered his first pie-eating contest as a child -- but he was also an athlete and valued his body too much to indulge in any practices like deliberately stretching out his stomach with gallons of water, not after their mother had done her research when they'd both still been children and made sure Thor was aware of the dangers of such things. Thor liked to win, but for one or two casual contests per year, he wasn't about to do anything more than skip breakfast on the day of an event. That had been enough to win him the occasional small prize usually on offer at places like the county fair, but it wasn't going to be enough to claim the championship this time. He was, as always, both fascinated by Thor’s ability to wolf down a massive amount of food without (usually) becoming sick afterwards and being faintly disgusted by it. At least the hot dogs were a lot cleaner than pies, although one of his favourite home videos of their childhood was that of a grinning ten year old Thor with his face absolutely covered with blueberry pie filling; it was good blackmail material to threaten Thor with if he had a new girlfriend he was trying to impress. The other two competitors were still gamely eating, but were obviously fighting it out for the third and fourth place standings.
"Five minutes left!" the man running the event called.
"You've got this, Volstagg!" a voice called encouragingly from the sidelines. "Just keep going, you're in the lead. Those tickets are going to be yours."
Loki looked around to see who this Volstagg's cheering section was, and saw a rather pretty girl of around his own age, her long dark hair caught back in a silky ponytail. He circled his way around the row of spectators to stand beside her. 
"I assume Volstagg is the guy rocking the Viking biker look?" he asked conversationally. "Friend? Family? My brother is the disgustingly handsome blond." 
The girl laughed. "Yeah, and he's a friend. I babysit for him sometimes." She glanced at Loki, a glance that turned into a slightly longer look. "Haven't seen you around here before. New in town?" 
"Yeah, we just moved. I'm Loki." He nearly stuck out his hand for her to shake, but this didn't seem quite the place to trot out his best manners. 
"Sif." She glanced between the two brothers. "I don't suppose either of you are going to be attending North College?"
Loki nodded. "I'll be starting there in the fall. Thor's already got two years under his belt; he's getting his credits transferred." 
Sif brightened. "Great! It'll be my second year, I'll be right between you. Probably won't share any classes, but I can show you around."
"That'd be great." Loki smiled back; genuinely pleased. They'd been too busy unpacking and settling in to figure out the local hang-outs and meet anyone their own age yet. To be honest, he'd been perfectly fine with waiting until fall for that, he'd been enjoying the peaceful summer that they'd been having so far. With Thor cut off from his old crowd of friends, they'd been spending more time just hanging out with each other than they had in years, even with the part time hours that Thor had picked up at the local hardware store on one of their trips there to choose paint for their new bedrooms. It was nice.
"Where do you live?"
"About two miles east of the Asgard library." Loki loved living so close to a library; he could easily bike over any day without needing to ask for a ride or to borrow the car. He had already made time to check out the place and had discovered a light, airy space with the pleasant surprise of a decently sized used book store room crammed with everything from books and magazines to CDs and DVDs and like-new donated jigsaw puzzles selling for only 50 cents each. He'd left the store only after he'd started wondering how he was going to carry all his spoils home; luckily the volunteer at the desk had had a big paper shopping bag with handles under her desk that he'd gratefully accepted. Working on the jigsaw puzzles had become the new family activity; the first already finished and the second half-assembled on the table in the den, their parents opportunistically taking interest as soon as he and Thor had gotten the hardest part done and the picture was taking shape. It was a nice, non-demanding way of spending time with his father, working in a companionable silence without feeling the need to make conversation unless they actually had something to say, while his mother was exactly the opposite, always full of light chatter -- their neighbour Fulla had invited them over for a backyard barbecue, she'd say, or she'd heard of a new restaurant they could try from the women at her hair salon, or that there was going to be a rummage sale at the church on Pine Street. (The barbecue had been great, the restaurant had had a fun '50s theme with a jukebox, and he was looking forward to the rummage sale.)
"It's a nice subdivision, older houses, a lot of big shade trees," he added. Their front porch was kept pleasantly cool and shaded until mid afternoon by a large ash tree in their front yard; it had become Loki's favourite spot to read for a while after breakfast and watch the antics of the squirrels running up and down the tree and through its branches. There were a pair of ravens, too, that he'd named Hugin and Munin. He'd wondered if they were a mated pair, but hadn't seen any sign of a nest or babies, unless they were in a nearby yard. Or maybe they were young brothers, who hadn't found a mate yet, enjoying their freedom before the responsibilities of adulthood set in. In the backyard they had a flowering crabapple, some flourishing rosebushes (his mother had claimed the room with the window framed by one of the climbing roses as her sewing room, and he didn't have to ask why when the window was open; the whole room smelled fantastic), and a couple of lilacs half-covering the garden shed, not to mention the tangle of blackberry canes in the opposite corner aggressively spreading out from their original bed into the lawn. Plans to prune them back and install some decorative metal fencing to keep them in check were on hold until the bushes were done putting out berries for the year. Eating berries that he had picked himself was somehow much more satisfying than eating ones that had been bought at the store. His mother was in gardening heaven tending to everything, planting various annuals and some slightly late but hopeful vegetables and waiting to see what would bloom next in the flower beds. 
Sif thought. "Are you anywhere near Teasdale's convenience store?"
Loki looked at her in surprise. "Yeah, it's only about a half mile away once we get onto the main road." He couldn't be so lucky as to have her living close by, could he? He didn't usually have Thor's easy way with making friends, but maybe his luck was changing. 
"What street are you on?"
"It's called Roan." 
Sif's face lit up. "Oh, this is awesome,you're just on the next street over from me. I'm on Sorrel." Two hot new guys around her age moving in within easy walking distance? If she was really lucky they'd be on the same end of the street as her. She cast her mind back, and vaguely remembered seeing a moving van a few months ago. Someone moving out, not in, though; she must not have been around when the new family had moved in or she'd have been more interested in hanging around and introducing herself. Somewhere in the middle of the street, Sif thought, not too bad. Heimdall wouldn't mind it if she cut through his yard; she'd made friends with him when he'd been the crossing guard for her elementary school and he could be relied upon to always let "his" kids through as long as they closed the gate to his backyard behind them so his Great Dane mix Hofund didn't get loose. Some people might have thought twice about crossing the massive watchdog's territory -- best guess was that his other parent had been a mastiff -- but he was a gentle giant around kids and Sif adored him and had made good pocket money over the years serving as occasional dog walker while Heimdall was at work. And Sif usually just vaulted the fence anyway. And Doctor Eir, whose house backed up to Heimdall's, never minded Sif crossing her yard either, as long as she didn't disturb anything, in particular any of the medicinal herbs she grew.  Sif's summer was definitely looking up. "Do either of you have a car? We could share rides if we wanted to go places. I've got a motorcycle, but -- "
Loki's eyes flicked over Sif. White t-shirt with rolled-up sleeves, sturdy-looking cargo pants, equally sturdy-looking boots, a small canvas cross-body bag.  "You have a motorcycle?"
"Yes, I -- "
"Big enough to give me a ride?" he asked, giving her his best puppy dog eyes. 
Sif smiled. "Maybe if you're a really good boy. But I can't take two passengers, so if either of you have a car -- "
"Thor's got a pick-up; he's always happy to give rides to his friends. And I am the bestest of boys," Loki said in his most sincere tone, tipping his head down slightly so he could look up at her through his lashes. It was a very effective look, he knew.
Damn, thought Sif, feeling something fluttery stir in her stomach.  "Oh, well in that case..." She certainly wasn't opposed to the idea of taking a ride with an attractive man's arms around her. 
"Time!" called the announcer as the timer finally rang and all the contestants sat back in their seats, swallowing their last bites and groaning as they stretched. 
"A very good showing from all our competitors this year," the event coordinator said, "But our first place winner is Volstagg Haraldson for the fourth year in a row!" He handed over a fat roll of tickets to the Midway. "Enjoy the rides!"
Volstagg took the tickets with a happy smile. "My little ones certainly will." 
"You have children?' Thor asked. It made him feel better about losing hearing that. While he and Loki would have enjoyed getting the free tickets, they could afford to buy their own without any problems. Maybe this Volstagg needed them more. He didn't look like the sort of person who would have a high-paying job like a doctor or lawyer or business executive, more like a roadie or a bouncer or someone who worked the assembly line in a factory. The thought of little kids getting extra rides made him happy.
"Yes," the man said proudly. "My youngest just turned one; my eldest is seven."
Thor looked around. "Where are they?"
Volstagg looked as well, but he remembered his wife catching his eye and pointing first to one of the kids and then to a nearby small brick building. "I believe my wife had to take one of the children to the bathroom," he said, unconcerned. "I expect they'll be back any minute."
"Daddy!" As if on cue, a little girl -- the seven year old, thought Loki --  with reddish brown hair in long pigtails came running up. "Did you win?"
"I did!" Volstagg boomed, gathering her to his side. "Although this young man gave me a run for my money this year." He nodded at Thor. "I haven't seen you around before. New in town?"
"I am," said Thor, then corrected himself. "We are." He beckoned to Loki to step forward. "I'm Thor and this is my brother Loki." 
"Welcome to Asgard County! I'm Volstagg, as you heard, and this is my eldest, Hildy. And this handsome young fellow is Alaric -- " A fair haired boy a couple of years younger stepped forward. "The lovely lady behind him is my wife Hildegund, the wee lass clinging to her hand is Flosi, and the little one in the stroller is our Rolfe." 
"A fine family," proclaimed Thor. 
"And a large one," said Loki, guessing that each child was about two years apart. "You have been busy. Planning on having any more?"
"Not planning, no," said Volstagg, sounding regretful. "The house is full to bursting as it is; If another were to surprise us, though --"
"They won't," said Hildegund firmly. 
"Hey Volstagg, guess where they live?" asked Sif happily. "Next street over from me, Roan."
"Oh, that is nice for you," Volstagg said jovially.
Sif turned to Loki. "Do you guys want to hit the Midway with me?"
Thor burped. "Not for a while. Loki and I already made the rounds of the rides before the contest because going on the Scrambler with...how many hot dogs did I eat?"
"22," said the man who was cleaning up the table. "Feel free to share the rest on your plate with your friends." 
Loki promptly claimed one in each hand. "Thank you," he said.
"Yeah, 22 hot dogs and being whipped around at high speed is not a good combination," said Thor. "We were planning on doing the carnival games, though," he told Sif. "Want to join us?"
"Yeah, I haven't done any of those yet either."
"Excellent," said Loki, finishing his hot dog and starting on his second. They'd be better fresh off the grill, with condiments added, but he wasn't about to turn his nose up at free food. He could use the money he'd save for a cold lemonade. He'd treat everybody, he thought generously.  "I'll win you a giant stuffed animal." 
"Feeling confident, are you?" teased Sif.
"Thor. The balloon game, with the darts. How good am I at it?"
"He's very good," Thor told Sif. 
"And the knocking things over with baseballs?"
Thor scoffed. "Please. As if I'd let my little brother grow up not knowing how to throw straight."
"The rings tossed over the bottle necks?"
"Batter at that than me," Thor admitted. 
"The duck shooting?"
"I think I'm a bit better at that, but you are a perfectly decent shot." 
"All of this to say," said Loki, "That yes, I feel fairly confident that I can win you whichever tacky fairground prize that your heart desires." 
"Or if he can't, I can," Thor said gallantly. 
"What if I'm perfectly capable of winning my own?" asked Sif. 
Loki wrinkled his nose. "What fun is that? How can I prove my gallantry to a fair lady if not by gifting her with the tokens of her choice?"
"Hm, all right, tell you what. I'll let you give me something if I can give you something in return." She mentally filed away the phrase "a fair lady" to think about later, and decide how much he meant by it. 
"Deal," said Loki promptly. He grinned, delighted. He leaned over and confided in a stage whisper "I like her, Thor." 
They said goodbye to Volstagg and his family and, after Thor made a quick visit to the toilets, strolled over to the rows of carnival games, Loki buying lemonades for himself and Sif on the way, Thor saying he'd already drunk enough water washing down his hot dogs for now (a water-soaked bun dissolved and slid down with almost no effort at all) but he would take one later. Loki grinned when the first booth they came to on the end of the row was the balloons and darts game. 
"See anything you like?" he asked Sif, gesturing to the hanging rows of prizes. 
Sif surveyed them critically and saw what she wanted. "The stuffed unicorn in the second row." He looked very soft, and had a sweet face. 
"Are you sure you don't want one of the larger prizes?" Loki looked up at the big stuffed animals hanging above it. 
"No. They're too big, I want one small enough to cuddle in bed." 
The thought of Sif cuddling something that he'd won her pleased Loki no end. "All right, how much for the medium sized unicorn?" he asked the guy staffing the booth. 
"Six balloons popped and he's yours," the man said. "Darts are three for $3."
Loki put down some money. "I'll take six." He picked up the darts he was given, and surveyed the board the balloons were pinned to, looking for those that were inflated the most. Taking aim at a green one, he threw the dart so it struck the balloon sharply at a slight downward angle, his height making that a lot easier to do than when he'd been a boy. 
POP!
Sif cheered.
POP!
POP!
"Oh, we are going to make some money off of you at the Student Union dartboard before everybody learns how good you are," said Sif with satisfaction. 
"Am I nothing more than a tool to be used for the advancement of your bank account?" Loki protested. 
"Well, if you're not interested -- "
"I didn't say that. All right, you can set me up with people who've got a chunk of spare cash they can afford to lose."
"My thoughts exactly." Sif started thinking about who'd be confident enough to place a large bet, never thinking they would have to pay it off.
The next dart glanced off the balloon he'd meant it for, hitting another as it fell but not with enough force to pierce it. Thor and Sif groaned. 
Loki rolled his shoulders. He'd hoped to do it in six throws, but seven would still be impressive. He nailed the next two balloons. POP! POP!
"I don't suppose I can buy just one more dart?" he asked the guy running the booth.
The guy grinned. "Nope. We have to make money to afford all of these high quality prizes."
Loki snorted, but he had to admit the unicorn was cute and looked to be a cut above the quality of most fairground prizes. "If I have leftover darts, can my brother or my friend use them as part of their turns?"
The man shrugged. "Yeah, sure, why not?"
Loki passed over more money and tested each one of the darts he received for the one that felt best in his hand. "What's your favourite colour?" he asked Sif recklessly.
"I like burgundy and silver," she said. "Or red, if you're asking me to pick a colour of balloon."
"Oh!" he realised. "We've heard you, roaring up and down the street. And seen you, a couple of times, if your bike is burgundy and silver."
"It is," Sif confirmed.
Loki filed away the preference for silver for future jewelry-related purchases and looked at the two red balloons left on the board. The top one looked fuller. Blessing his height again, he let his dart fly. 
POP!
Thor and Sif whooped with a satisfying amount of enthusiasm. "The stuffed unicorn, for the lady," Loki told the man, grinning.
"Nicely done," the mad admitted, and took down the fluffy unicorn, white with a gray mane and tail, and passed it to Sif. 
Sif took it and pressed a kiss to its nose. She had been right; it was very soft, and smelled of fresh air and sunshine. She smiled at Loki over the unicorn's head. "Thank you." 
"You're welcome," he said giddily. Six out of seven wasn't bad; he'd only missed one. "is there anything else you want here?"
Sif glanced at the cheaper prizes. There was a metallic red keychain flashlight with silver accents that she wouldn't mind. "Yes, but I want my turn with the darts. Here, you can hold Moonbeam." She passed him the unicorn. 
Nonplused, Loki took the unicorn. "Moonbeam?"
"Yes. It's his name," said Sif firmly. "Can I use your other two darts or do you want them to get something for yourself?"
At the moment, Loki wanted to do nothing more than keep on winning things for Sif, so he shook his head. "You can have them." 
It took those two plus the three more she had to buy, but Sif won her mini flashlight and then Thor had a turn and claimed what he thought was a rather nice looking keychain with a piece of rough-cut quartz on the end of it to add to his own collection at home. They moved down the row of booths, playing games and collecting prizes, Loki allowing Sif to gift him a decently-sculpted model horse painted gold at the shooting range, and Thor winning a framed mirror with the name of a favourite band on it. By the time that they got to the end of the row, the boys had accumulated enough prizes that they couldn't fit in their pockets that Sif took pity on them constantly having to put them down at each new booth and pick them back up afterwards or asking each other to hold their things and fished a crumpled plastic grocery bag out of her canvas bag, where she'd tucked Moonbeam in securely with his head sticking out so he could look around. "Want to put the stuff you've won in here?"
"Yes, please," the boys said gratefully, almost in unison. 
Sif shook her head in amusement. "Don't you ever think ahead? Stick a bag in your pocket next time." 
Thor and Loki exchanged glances. 
"Would you think it terribly immature of us if I told you we would usually be seeking out our mother around now to dump our stuff in her tote bag?" Loki asked, looking sheepish. 
Sif laughed. "Perhaps a little, but it's also sweet if she doesn't mind. Is she here somewhere?"
"Yeah, she has a weaving entered in the fibercrafts show." He glanced at his watch. "We're supposed to meet her and Father at six in front of the bandstand." 
"Oh, that's perfect; that's where my friend Fandral's band is playing; they do cover songs from the sixties and early seventies. And you should have told me about your mom; I would have liked to see her work. Is she any good?"
"All the crafts are on display until the fair closes, I think," said Loki. "We can go see it later and you can judge for yourself.  I'm sure Mother would be happy to tell you all about it if you have any questions."
"We should head over to the bandstand now," said Thor, checking his own watch, then grinned when he saw the strength-testing machine at the end of the row. "That is, after I've had a go at that." He passed Loki the bag of prizes that he had been holding, and moved towards the tall contraption, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "All right, time for me to shine," he said gleefully.  
Sif eyed his biceps. "I'm going to hear that bell ring, aren't I?"
"The last time he couldn't do it was probably in junior high," said Loki. "If the darts are my sure thing, this is his." He looked at the prizes on offer as Thor handed over some money to the attendant running the game and accepted the sledgehammer in return. "You could give Mother one of those coloured bud vases, Thor." They looked like plastic but were pretty, in a wide range of pastel colours. "Maybe that light green one?"
"Hm." Thor considered the vases. "It's not bad, but she's already got a lot of vases."
"Then save it for your next girlfriend and give it to her with a flower in it," suggested Loki. "Unless you see something you like better?"
Thor looked at a Budweiser mirror, torn. "We'll see," he said at last, and swung the hammer back and forth a few times, getting a feel for it. Loki took a step back, taking Sif with him. Thor positioned his hands on the handle -- one near the end, the other up by the head, and swung the hammer up above his head and then down, slamming it directly onto the center of the pressure pad. The marker puck flew up rapidly and slammed into the bell at the top.
BRRINGGG!
Loki and Sif cheered, and someone else behind Thor wolf-whistled in appreciation. 
"Nice job, big boy." 
"Darcy!" a fourth person hissed. 
"What? If I worked that hard on my muscles, I'd want people to appreciate what I could do with them." 
Thor turned, amused, to see who had stopped to watch him, and saw two brown-haired young women, both on the short side. The darker-haired one with glasses gave him a cheerful wave.
"Hi."
"Hello." He smiled back at her but then his attention was arrested by her companion. 
"You! You were the one who ran into me in the bumper cars!"
The woman looked sheepish. "Oh, yeah, hi. Isn't that the point, though? I didn't give you whiplash or anything, did I?"
"No, just stalled my car out." Thor smiled at her brilliantly. "My name's Thor, by the way." 
"I'm Jane. Nice to meet you." She remembered a glimpse of a handsome face before she'd zoomed off to avoid Darcy hitting her, but she hadn't had a chance to appreciate his height when he'd been folded up inside a little bumper car. Or his muscles, she thought, noting them now. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled shyly. 
"Actually, the original point of bumper cars was to avoid getting bumped," said Loki knowledgeably. "That's why they're also called Dodgems. But some people apparently find it a more enjoyable outlet for their tendencies toward violence over skill." 
"Sounds like someone got bumped a lot," observed Darcy. 
"My barbarian of a brother -- " Loki pointed at Thor, who was currently looking at Jane with the smitten expression of a lovesick sheep -- "Always goes for me as soon as the ride starts and ignores everybody else. That's why your friend was able to ram him so hard, he wasn't paying attention to anyone but his chosen target." It was only with a great deal of difficulty that he refrained from sticking his tongue out at Thor as he remembered Thor's car skidding across the floor of the ride area away from him with a good bit of satisfaction.
"Hey, uh, are you going to pick a prize or not?" the guy running the strength-testing machine asked. "Other people might want a go." 
"Oh, right, sorry!" Thor glanced at the prizes again, then at Jane. She really was strikingly beautiful. "Is there anything I might gift you with, Jane? As a thank you for a memorable bumper car experience?"
Loki nearly rolled his eyes as Jane blushed faintly. "Oh, that's sweet of you, are you sure? I...um -- "
"She'll take the star," said Darcy decisively. 
"Darcy!"
"What? All right, fine, you tell him what you want." Darcy crossed her arms over her chest and raised one eyebrow expectantly. 
"I..." Jane looked at the stuffed stars, the fabric that particular shade of pale yellow that made her think they would glow in the dark, each with a hanging loop at the top and a stitched on happy face. "Okay, yeah, I want the star. I'm studying astrophysics, stars are kind of my thing." 
The game's attendant passed Thor one of the stuffed stars and Thor presented it to Jane in turn. "A star for my lady, to match the ones sparkling in her eyes." 
Jane blushed harder as she took the star. "Thank you." 
"Smooth," admired Darcy. 
"Like shark skin?" asked Loki. 
Darcy ugly snorted. 
"I think shark skin is rough," said Sif, dimples appearing in her cheeks. 
"No, I've touched one," said Thor, mirth dancing in his eyes. "They're smooth." 
"Like baby bottoms," said Darcy, not missing a beat.
"Like dolphins," agreed Loki, grinning widely. 
"No, I'm pretty sure -- your name's Sif, right? You were in that self-defense class I took last year -- Sif's right; shark skin is rough." Jane looked baffled for a moment as the two boys and Darcy burst into laughter, Sif grinning as well. "Wait, is this one of those internet memes?"
"I'll find the post to show you later," promised Darcy. 
Thor seized on the salient fact. "You go to the same college as Sif?" She was no longer just a pretty face glimpsed briefly on a fairground ride, she had a name, and they'd be going to the same college. Maybe they could get together before then as well, he thought hopefully. Go get an ice cream or something.
"Yeah," said Jane. "Do you guys go there? I haven't noticed you before." 
"We've just moved here; we'll be starting there in the fall."
"Yeah, if I had seen either of you two before, I would have remembered," said Darcy. "What's your majors? Mine's political science." 
Loki brightened. "I'm going for a business degree, but I'm doing a minor in poli sci. I'd like to get involved at the local level at some point in the future; there are so many positive changes that could be made if we just get the right people in charge." They had moved out of the way of the strength-testing game as they talked, but not far.  Loki was debating whether to have his usual go at it and come up short in Sif's eyes. He could usually get the puck up to a respectable level, but knew he probably wouldn't hit the bell. Not many people did; he watched a fairgoer's face fall as the puck didn't even make it past the halfway point on their attempt.
"Oh hey, we can be study buddies," said Darcy happily.
"Mm, maybe," said Loki noncommittally. He usually did quite well studying by himself but didn't want to pass up the chance of making another friend, or at least a friendly acquaintance. "What year are you in? It'll be my first."
"Sophomore, but that just means I'll be familiar with your classes and can offer tips on what's going to be on your tests." Darcy turned to Thor. "How about you, big guy?"
"Third year, kinesiology with a minor in coaching," said Thor. "I want to coach kids' sports teams, but that isn't exactly a full time career. So I'm hoping to land a job as an elementary school gym teacher; that'd put me in a good position to get in some coaching on the side." 
"Well, it sounds like you've got your future all figured out; they sound like good goals," Jane approved. 
"Well, I like sports and I like kids, and if I can't be a ten year old again feeling the joy of seeing the bin of dodgeballs being brought out, then I can at least be the one putting that expression onto other kids' faces."
"Why shouldn't you?" asked Sif thoughtfully, also remembering the pleasure of a good dodgeball game. "I wonder if we could organise some dodgeball games at the gym. A weekly class or something?"
"I'd sign up," said Loki promptly. 
"Same," agreed Thor. 
"I'll ask Mr. Skurge about it," said Sif. "What about you two?" She looked at the two other girls.
"Uh, no," said Jane. "Thanks but no thanks. Dodgeball does not favor the small." 
"On the one hand I agree with Jane," said Darcy, "Small plus glasses. But on the other hand -- it does sound kind of fun. Maybe? I'd be willing to try it once at least." 
"Cool. The more interest the better. Maybe Fandral and his buddies in the band would want to join. Although Fandral might be more worried about getting a ball to the face than he was before puberty hit and he started caring more about his looks," Sif grinned. "And I bet Hogun would say yes; I'm not sure about Haldor." She hadn't met Haldor until high school, but she could remember Hogun methodically taking down one kid after another whenever they'd played dodgeball in elementary school. Fandral had always been right up in front, too; she hoped he'd join them if they could get a class together.
Loki felt a stab of jealousy as Sif mentioned Fandral's apparent good looks and decided to channel that into an attempt at the strength-tester. "All right, I'm going to go hit something; I'll be right back," he said, and took out his wallet, approaching the game again. Of course everyone instantly shifted their attention to him as he took up the sledgehammer, Thor calling out encouragement. 
"Remember, use your core, slam it down sharp and fast and focus on making sure the hammer strikes the center of the pad as solidly as possible," Thor said helpfully. "You can do it." 
Loki rolled his eyes. "Yes, Coach Thor, I have done this before." He felt like Thor was more invested in him conquering this game than he was; it didn't matter if he didn't hit the bell, he told himself, as long as he got the puck up near the top and made a good showing. He swung the hammer as Thor had, getting a feel for its weight and balance and judging how close he needed to stand. Then in one quick movement, he brought the hammer up and slammed it down as hard as he could. The puck flew up at a satisfying speed, slowed as it reached the coloured area just below the bell, hovered for a moment, and then dropped. 
There was a general groan of disappointment. "Oh, so close," the man running the game sympathised. "Want to have another go?"
Loki hesitated, then shook his head. "I never do any better on second tries with this, I put my best effort into the first one. As it is, I can walk away feeling good with how high I got it, if I do worse in a second try, then I'll walk away feeling worse." 
The man, an older gentleman with graying hair, nodded. "Fair enough. But I'll tell you what, I like seeing kids who think about other people. You really were only a hair's breadth from hitting that bell; I'm saying that's close enough today." He reached out and plucked the light green vase off of its shelf. "Here, put a flower in it and give it to your mother. Or a pretty girl if there's one you've got your eye on." He gave Loki a wink.
"Really?" Loki asked in delight, a grin spreading all over his face.  He accepted the vase. "Thank you! And I will." 
"You have to promise to come back next year and try again, though," the man said. 
"If nothing prevents it, then I will," Loki promised. 
"And don't tell anyone I'm giving out prizes for 'close enough'", the man said. "This is my one good deed for the day and that's it."
"What prize?" asked Loki, tucking his vase away in their bag. The man nodded approvingly, and Loki felt almost certain that the man had kids himself.
"Well done, little brother." Thor thumped Loki on the back cheerfully.  
"I thought you were going to hit the bell for sure," said Sif. "Here, let me try." 
Sif took out her wallet and then unhooked her bag from her shoulder and held it out. "Someone want to hold this for me?"
Darcy snagged it. "I love your unicorn. Where'd you get it?"
"Dart game with the balloons, down at the far end of the row." Sif pointed as she took up the hammer. 
"Janie." Darcy looked at her friend with her own version of puppy dog eyes. "I need a unicorn. Look at him." She made Moonbeam wave one foreleg at Jane. "You're gonna help me win one, right? He can be friends with your star."
Jane laughed. "Yeah, sure, if I can." Despite being in general a non-athletic person, she was actually a decent shot at darts; she and her father had used to play together. She wasn't going to win any competitions, but she could probably break a few balloons if Darcy needed help. "Let's just see what Sif can do first." 
Darcy raised Moonbeam's two forelegs in a victory celebration. "Yay!"
What Sif could do with the hammer was send the puck flying about three quarters of the way up the backboard of the tower.
"Thou hast made a valiant attempt," Loki read the words written opposite the band of colour where Sif's puck had reached its peak before dropping.
"Thank you," said Sif with a short bow, deciding that was good enough for this year, and handed the hammer back to the game's attendant. 
"I can give you some workout tips if you want a better chance at this next year," offered Thor. "Have you ever tried using a medicine ball?"
"No, and that'd be great. I've never bothered to specifically train for this, but why not?"
"Anyone else?' the attendant asked. 
Jane and Darcy shook their heads in unison. "Not me," they chorused. 
"Gotta save our money for unicorns," said Darcy matter-of-factly. "It's not like any of them are going to come lay their heads in my lap in real life anymore."
Loki was so, so glad he had long since finished his lemonade, because he probably would have spit it out if he'd had any in his mouth when he realised what she meant. He did splutter a bit, though, and Darcy winked at him. 
"Should you need any assistance," said Thor, reluctant to let them go when he didn't know if he'd see Jane again before college started. He didn't know her last name, or her phone number, would it be too creepy to ask for it so soon after meeting her? "My brother or I would be happy to help you get a unicorn for yourself." 
"Well, we'll see," said Jane. "We'd like to have a go at it ourselves first." 
"Of course," agreed Thor. Winning something was nice, but playing the game was the fun part. "We're heading over to the bandstand area, and will probably be there for a little while at least if you want to find us." 
"The Daytrippers are playing," offered Sif. "Do you know Fandral? Or his band?"
"Errol Flynn wannabe?" asked Darcy casually. "Yeah, he's cool." She decided that they didn't need to know he was the reason she wouldn't be luring in any real life unicorns anymore. Totally worth it, though. "We'll try to come by before his set's over." 
"Great!" Thor enthused. "And maybe we can hang out sometime, before the summer's over?" The words spilled out without conscious thought, borne out of the need to get some kind of contact information for Jane. 
"Yeah, sure," Darcy accepted cheerfully. "Have you guys been to Vanir Beach yet?" She ignored the look that Jane gave her; Jane could suck up her dislike of the beach for once in her life. It's not like there were any opportunities to see some hot new guys shirtless at the planetarium. 
"No," said Thor and Loki together, both looking immediately interested. 
"It's a bit of a drive," began Jane --
"But really not that far," finished Darcy. "Here, give me your phone number, we'll give you a call and set something up." 
Loki took her offered phone and entered his number. "Hey, Thor, want me to give her yours -- "
"Yes," Thor said immediately, but he was looking at Jane, having not missed her reaction to the mention of a beach. "Jane? Do you not like the beach?"
"Ah, you noticed that, did you? It can be okay, depending on the day -- but it can also be noisy and crowded and hot. At least around here there are patches of shade all over the place -- " She gestured. "And it's only a once a year thing. And I have to say that I prefer a nice clean pool over a lake with a mucky bottom."
"Can't bodysurf or get a game of beach volleyball going at a pool, though," said Sif pragmatically. "But you're not wrong about the bottom feeling kind of gross," she admitted. "You just gotta get your feet up and start swimming as soon as you feel it get that way." 
Darcy, having gotten her phone back, was typing something into it. "Jane, shall I give them your number too?"
"Yeah, sure, go ahead." Darcy had good instincts about guys, and if she thought it was safe to give out her phone number, then it probably was.
Loki's phone pinged, and he grinned as he saw the text from Darcy containing both hers and Jane's phone numbers. He promptly forwarded it to Thor's phone as well.
Thor glanced at it when it arrived and grinned happily. He had her number. "We'll go to the beach one day, but I'd also enjoy going someplace else with you another day, Jane. Where would you recommend?"
"Oh, well, I'm always up for stargazing, but for a more daytime activity..." She ran through possibilities in her head. "There's a park I know, with some nice trails through the woods for hiking. We could do that?"
"That sounds perfect." Thor smiled at her warmly. "I'll have to look at my work schedule, but I'll call you and we'll set up a date." 
Jane couldn't help smiling back, feeling warmed straight through. He could just mean what day of the month, but she really liked the sound of the word "date". 
"Okay, and we'll figure out which day works best for everyone as a beach day," Darcy said. "I could call you guys tomorrow? Give everyone a chance to look at their schedules, and I'll look at the weather forecast and send you two a map showing where the beach is." 
"Sounds good," said Loki. He'd missed having somewhere to swim; a hot beach wasn't his favourite thing either, but a lake full of cold water most definitely would be. And the thought of seeing Sif in a swimsuit was even better. "Sif can ride with us, and we can meet you two there. That is, if Jane wants to go." 
"Well, if everyone else is, then yeah, I guess," Jane decided. Maybe she'd bring a float. And she did like the shuffleboard courts. Her decision had nothing to do with the prospect of seeing Thor shirtless and dripping wet. 
"We should head over to the bandstand now," said Thor, looking at Loki and Sif. "Maybe get something to eat for you two? I think I could manage that lemonade now." 
They said their goodbyes and left the rows of carnival games, Thor ducking into a porta-potty and emerging feeling much less bloated. They followed Sif as she headed towards a food truck advertising the usual selection of fair food. "So, tell me," she said, turning round to look at them and walking backwards for a few yards. "Do either of you play sports? I mean," she gestured at Thor. "Obviously you do, you want to be a coach, but let me guess which ones." She looked Loki up and down. "You're a runner," she said, pointing at him. "Or a swimmer, or maybe both?"
"I like swimming, but not competitively. I ran track for a year in junior high, but it conflicted too much with band. But yeah, I do still like to go for a run most days if the weather is decent. It's a nice time to be alone inside my head." 
"Yeah, I know what you mean; I feel that way when I exercise. But band is cool too; what instrument do you play?"
"Flute."
Thor grinned. "He wanted to be Ian Anderson." He mimed playing a flute while standing on one leg. 
"Can you do that?" Sif asked, interested. 
"Mm, yeah, a bit," Loki admitted modestly. Thor in a food coma had toned his personality down to that of an average person, but he seemed to be coming back to life.
"Cool; you'll have to let me watch you play sometime. Maybe you can jam with Fandral's band one day." She felt pleased at finding a way her new friend and old could mesh together.
"Yeah, that might be fun." 
Sif turned to Thor as they took their places in line at the food truck. "You -- weightlifting?" It was an obvious guess, his tank top showing off heavily-muscled arms and shoulders.
"Yes as far as staying fit, that and a general gym workout, but not competitively." Thor nodded at her t-shirt, which bore the name of a gym and the words Life is tough. Be tougher. "I like your shirt. Is that a local gym you belong to?"
Sif brightened. "Yes, I take a kickboxing class there. If you want to join, I'll take you down there one day and show you around, get you set up. And before you ask, apart from gym workouts and jogging, I played softball and basketball. So, what else for you? Baseball? Football?"
"Yes and yes, and rugby at my old college. Swimming and surfing for fun. Ice hockey in winter. I throw a mean frisbee." He thought. "Tennis a bit, if anyone needs a partner, but Loki likes it more than I do."
"Our mother taught us," Loki explained. 
Sif imagined two young boys in tennis whites and was charmed by the image. "Did you play doubles against her? Or did your father join in to make it even?"
"Mm, no, Father's more of a hockey man, or at least he was when he was younger. Or a playing catch in the backyard kind of man," said Thor. He could remember endless summer evenings and weekend afternoons with his father and a baseball the year he'd joined Little League, Loki too young to practise with yet, but willing to scamper off and retrieve any stray balls. 
"Billiards," said Loki helpfully. "Or chess. He taught me how to play chess." 
"Have you got a pool table?" Sif asked hopefully. 
"Sadly no," said Thor. "It got left with the old place. Father said they'd had to take the moldings off the doors to get it indoors in the first place and he wasn't going through that again."
"We're campaigning for a new one, though," said Loki. "There's room in the basement." 
"Is there room to get it in the house, though?" queried Sif. 
"There must be," said Thor. "People have them in their houses, I know they do." 
"We'll just have to measure everything first," said Loki. "There are probably different sizes of tables." 
"Maybe he'll get us one for Christmas," mused Thor. "He could wrap the cue sticks and put them under the tree. Cue sticks for one of us and the rack and balls for the other."
"And maybe he'd already smuggled it into the basement and we'd been barred from going down there," said Loki, happily going along with this pleasant scenario. "And we just assumed it was because of our usual pile of presents waiting to be put out after we went to sleep." 
"If you guys get a pool table for Christmas," said Sif, "I expect to be invited over before the day is out. Or the next day would be all right, but call and tell me about it at least."  
"Promise," said Loki. They had moved up in line as they spoke, and had reached the window of the food truck. "Okay, what does everyone want?"
"Large lemonade for me," said Thor, perusing the menu offerings. "And...is there anywhere around here that sells sno-cones?"
"Yeah, there's a cart on the edge of the grass in front of the grandstand," the kid manning the food truck said. 
"Okay, just the drink for me, then. Loki?" 
"Fries and a coke and some of the cinnamon peanuts," said Loki. "Sif?"
"I can pay for my own. Go ahead and get your stuff first." 
Loki hesitated, then shrugged and reached for his wallet, because fairground food was ridiculously expensive. He didn't mind so much when it was a specialty food like the spiced nuts, but he could buy a two liter bottle of Coke on sale for less than the price of the one cup he was getting -- when Thor passed him a couple of bucks for his lemonade, Loki accepted them and added them to the total. He tucked the nuts into the bag Thor was carrying to eat later, and moved aside to let Sif order when he was done paying. Sif bought a Coke, a corndog and a popcorn and a bag of cotton candy, and they moved away from the food truck slowly, Loki carefully picking up fries with his teeth for lack of a free hand and Sif nibbling on her corn dog. Thor sipped his lemonade and tried to shoo away the bees that began to follow him. 
"Let's try to get one of the picnic tables over by the grandstand," said Sif. "We can put our stuff down and Thor can go get his sno-cone." 
Thor looked around as they approached the rather patchy grassy area in front of the bandstand, some trees along the edges of it offering some sun-dappled shade over near the picnic tables. He lengthened his stride and made a beeline for the last empty table, putting the bag with their prizes and nuts down and waving his brother and Sif over. "Got one!" 
Loki inspected the top of the table for stickiness, gave it a quick swipe with one of the napkins he'd taken from the food truck, and hopped up, putting his drink down beside him and his feet on the bench seat. Then, before Thor could sit down next to him, scooted over so he had the middle position on that side of the table, leaving space for Thor on one side of him and Sif on the other. 
Thor smirked knowingly at him as he joined Loki, Sif hopping up on Loki's other side and copying his position. 
The fries smelled good. "Can I have a couple?" Thor asked, hovering his hand over them. 
Knowing that this was one of the rare times when Thor really wouldn't take more than a few, Loki moved his fries a little bit in Thor's direction. "Go ahead." 
Thor took one, savouring the salty potato taste. Some musicians were on stage, tuning their instruments. 
"That's Fandral," said Sif. "Guy in the Hawaiian shirt with the guitar. Lead guitar and vocals. I've known him since kindergarten." 
Loki wasn't sure about the goatee, but had to admit Fandral was handsome in a certain swashbuckling way. "I bet he's popular with the girls," he ventured. "Or is it guys?"
"Wow, you pinned him quick. He is indeed known as our local Lothario, and it's mostly girls but he is not averse to the charms of an attractive man." She turned and glanced at them. "He is going to love meeting you." 
"Did you just call me attractive, Sif?" Loki turned his best sunny smile on her. 
"I think she was talking about me," countered Thor, flexing. 
Sif rolled her eyes. "I was talking about the both of you, and you know it." 
"Thank you," said Loki modestly. "You're very pretty yourself." 
Sif looked away self-consciously for a moment. "Thank you." She looked back at the stage. "Um, Hogun is on bass, Haldor's on drums, and that's Lorelei on the keyboards. I'll introduce you when we're done eating, if the set hasn't started yet. 
"Watch my lemonade," said Thor. "I'm going to go get that sno-cone." He slid off the table, having spotted the cart, and headed off in that direction. 
Loki took a sip from Thor's lemonade, just because. 
Sif snorted. 
He grinned at her innocently. "I gave him some of my fries," he reminded her. "Brothers share," he added in a tone that made Sif certain that he was repeating a phrase he had heard from his mother on more than one occasion while growing up.
Thor came strolling back a couple of minutes later, sucking on a cherry sno-cone, then taking a satisfyingly crunchy bite of the ground ice. "Miss me?"
"Did you leave?" asked Loki, and grinned as Thor gave him a good-natured shove as he sat back down, causing him to bump shoulders with Sif. 
"Oh hey, there's Mother and Father." Thor lifted his hand, pointing towards the opposite side of the lawn. 
Sif looked, and studied the only couple in that direction heading towards them that seemed old enough to be Thor's and Loki's parents. Their father, if she was looking at the right couple, was noticeably older than their mother, with longish nearly white hair brushing the top of his shoulders and a matching beard. An eyepatch gave him a rakish air that made her think of a pirate Santa. He was neatly dressed in casual slacks and a striped, short-sleeved button-down shirt, the predominant colours nearly matching the blue and white floral print of his wife's dress, a loose, flowy, comfortable-looking sleeveless affair that she'd paired with sandals and a wide-brimmed straw hat. Beneath the hat Sif could see a long honey-gold braid cascading down the woman's back. She was tall and pretty and looked more put together than Sif had ever felt in her entire life. She was walking with one arm tucked through her husband's, the other holding an elephant ear which she was taking dainty bites of, their heads tilted slightly towards each other as they spoke. They looked very much like a couple who still enjoyed each other's company. As Sif watched, the man snitched a bit of the elephant ear and popped it into his mouth, the woman promptly pulling it away from him with a chiding "Hey!" that carried across the grass. Her husband grinned in an unapologetic manner and she gave a little shake of her head that was equal parts exasperated and fond. Sif liked them both on sight. She was about to ask for confirmation of their identities when Thor stood up and waved his hand in the air. 
"Mother! Father! Over here!" 
The pirate Santa lifted his hand in acknowledgement and the couple veered slightly to come straight towards them, weaving around the scattering of other people milling around and in some cases, getting comfortable on a blanket that had spread out on the grass. 
Their mother's brows furrowed in mock confusion as she saw them. "Odin, don't we only have two children? I know we used to talk about having a daughter, but I'm sure I would have remembered this lovely young lady here."
"Only two," Odin confirmed, his eye twinkling. "Although if the boys wish to adopt her, they can bunk together and she can have the extra room."
"No," said Thor and Loki in tandem.
"No need for that," Loki said hastily. "She already has a home, and not far from us, either." Sometimes he thought he wouldn't have minded having a little sister, but not one that he wanted to date. 
"She lives on Sorrel," Thor chimed in. "The next street over from us." 
"Oh! How nice. You'll have to come over and visit, my dear."
Loki jumped in with introductions. "Mother, this is Sif. Sif, these are our parents, Odin Borson and Frigga -- "
"Just Frigga is fine, Sif. I don't stand on formality with my sons' friends. Feel free to come over any time, and I'd love to meet your parents, too, if that's not too soon to mention. I was thinking I'd have to wait until school started up to meet any families with children around my boys' age. Have you exchanged addresses and phone numbers yet?"
"Phone numbers, yes. And I'll tell my mother about you."
"That's good," Frigga approved. "That a very cute unicorn you have in your bag." Frigga smiled down at Moonbeam, who was watching from the safety of Sif's bag. "Did you win him at one of the carnival game booths?"
"Loki did, actually. And was kind enough to give him to me." 
"Oh, did he?" Frigga raised an eyebrow as she looked at her youngest son and saw the hint of colour rise on his cheeks. Like that, was it?
"Mm," said Loki. 
"That was very sweet of you, Loki." Frigga reached out and smoothed back a lock of his hair, Loki leaning away indignantly. Frigga laughed. "All right, I'm glad you're having fun." She ran her eyes over her eldest. "How did the contest go, Thor?"
"Only second place," said Thor. "But I don't mind, because the guy who won is Sif's friend and he has four children and I think he kind of needed the tickets more than we did."
"Oh well, better luck next time. But yes, children are expensive," Frigga agreed. "And four of them!" She turned towards Odin and scolded him with a teasing smile on her face. "Why couldn't you have given me four babies?"
"Well, if you remember, it wasn't for lack of trying," he said wryly. 
"Mm," said Frigga, smirking.
Loki made a face. "Please ignore my parents reminiscing fondly about how often they used to have sex," he told Sif. 
Odin and Frigga exchanged a glance. 
"What do you mean "used to"?" asked Odin innocently. 
"Ahhh! I'm not listening!" Loki stuck his fingers in his ears. 
Frigga chuckled. "You only encourage your father with those sorts of reactions."
"I don't care," said Loki petulantly. "Children should be able to assume that their parents had sex exactly once for each child and that's it."
Odin snorted. "'Fraid not, my boy. Take heart in knowing that all your body parts will still be in working order when you're my age." 
Loki whimpered, and even Thor's face twisted up. 
"Not a mental image I really needed, Father," Thor said.
Sif patted Thor's shoulder sympathetically. She knew well enough not to enter a closed bedroom door without knocking when her father was home on leave. "If you like kids, Frigga, I'm sure Volstagg wouldn't mind having another possible babysitter to call; I'm not as available as I used to be now that I'm in college." 
"How old are the children?" Frigga asked. 
"Between one and seven," Loki volunteered. "Two girls, two boys. Mostly redheads." 
"Oh." Frigga looked intrigued. "I might be interested, if he needs someone. You said he was here? Any chance of meeting him?"
Sif looked around. The band was still tuning up and talking amongst themselves. "Possibly; they might show up here? The kids like the music. If I see him and his family, I'll introduce you. Speaking of which, Thor, Loki, come on; I want to introduce you to Fandral and the others before they start playing." She slid off the picnic bench, and glanced back over her shoulder. 
Loki immediately got up to follow her, stuffing the last of his fries in his mouth and taking his drink with him. Thor followed, still working on his sno-cone, appreciating the fact that flavoured ice didn't take up much room inside him, while still being an integral part of the fairground experience.
"If you'll excuse us," said Loki.
"Of course, darling, go meet new friends. We'll save your seats for you." Frigga smiled at him, and Odin was glad enough to settle himself on the vacated bench, not particularly caring if the seat was a bit dusty from sneakered feet; all his clothes probably smelled vaguely of horse barn and would need to go in the wash anyway. He'd struck up a conversation with a man who'd been grooming a lovely grey Shire stallion for his show class and had the farm's business card safely tucked into his pocket with an invitation to visit some time. It wasn't too far, and Odin thought it would be a nice family outing one weekend, if the boys weren't too old for family outings. They'd both be in college come the fall, growing up, doing more and more things on their own. The unfamiliarity of a new town had kept the boys close to home this summer, and he'd enjoyed it.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Frigga sat down beside Odin, taking another bite of her elephant ear. 
Odin eyed it. "I will share them for another piece of fried dough," he said gravely. 
Frigga laughed and offered it. "Deal." 
He tore off a piece. "Thinking about the boys growing up, moving on with their lives, away from us. College, and then jobs, and maybe marriage and families of their own."
Frigga smiled wistfully. "That would mean we did a good job of raising successful, independent men. And them finding someone to love and spend their lives with could never be a bad thing; in fact them starting new families of their own would only mean that ours would grow."
"Not losing sons but gaining daughters-in-law?" Odin asked wryly. 
"Yes, exactly," said Frigga stoutly. "And grandchildren after that. Although..." She screwed up her face. "You're right, I'm not ready for that either. But I don't think we have to worry about empty nest syndrome just yet; Loki hasn't even started college yet." 
"What if Thor graduates and gets a good job and wants to move out? I've heard him and Loki talking about sharing an apartment and splitting rent." 
Frigga made a considering noise. "That's still two years away, and I don't think he'll be in any rush to move out, not if he can get a job close enough to make commuting feasible. They both seem to like the new house, and apartments are expensive these days. It would make sense to save some money by living at home for a while. Adding that pool they want to the backyard might be a good way to encourage that," she hinted. 
Odin chuckled. "You want it too, don't you?"
"I would not be averse," admitted Frigga. "And just think of all the times you'd be able to ogle me in my bathing suit." She waggled her eyebrows at him. 
"A convincing argument. I just don't want to be the one stuck taking care of it if the boys move out after college. I'm not getting any younger, you know." 
"Even more important why you should have an excellent option for some low-impact exercise right there in our backyard," Frigga said encouragingly. "And the boys could still help take care of it if they're living close enough to come over to use it; if not, you could get someone in to clean it." 
"I suppose," admitted Odin. He was not the sort of person who had any desire to go to a gym to exercise, the idea of a cool, refreshing swim in the summer instead of a hot walk sounded appealing. "It'll be more work to mow around a pool than going straight across the lawn." He tried a final objection. 
"Good thing you've got two strong sons who are doing all the mowing already," she countered. 
Odin grinned. "All right, I'll talk to them about it." 
Frigga divided the last of her elephant ear in half and gave him one of the pieces, munching the other one herself. "The boys will be happy. Especially," she said thoughtfully, "If Sif doesn't have a pool of her own. I can see Loki being very happy if the rest of his summer involves a lot of a pretty girl in a swimsuit in his own backyard. If you want to keep the boys at home, at least in summer, a pool should do the trick." 
"Hm; I agree that he seems to be smitten, but do you think she feels the same way?"
"Not sure how much yet, but I'd definitely say she's interested. And I'm so glad the boys have found a friend their own age even if nothing more comes of it. She seems nice." She watched as her sons and Sif chatted with the young man on the stage. Perhaps another new friend. She glanced around and her smile grew as she spotted the new family strolling onto the grass, a man and a woman and four young children. She nudged Odin and pointed. "Sif's friend, I think?"
Odin's eyebrows rose. "An impressive beard. And yes, I don't see who else it could be. Do you want to go talk to them?"
"I should probably wait for Sif to introduce us. Would you mind if I babysat for them occasionally?"
"Of course not, not if it makes you happy."
"I'd enjoy it," she admitted. "I do miss the boys being small." She watched as the boys and Sif left the stage and began strolling back towards them. The guitarist played a ringing chord, gaining everyone's attention, and picked up the microphone. 
"All right, it's time to get this show on the road," Fandral announced, addressing the gathered crowd. "Our job, up here, is to get you all on your feet singing and dancing along. Your job is to look like you're having the best time of your lives so that all of those people -- " He gestured at the fairgoers passing by. "Stop and realise that they're missing out on all the fun and decide to join us. Can you do that?"
There was a chorus of affirmation. 
"I can't hear you," Fandral said. "You're going to have to do better than that." He held out his microphone.
A much louder, more synchronised cheer came from the crowd, Loki wincing as Thor's deep, enthusiastic bellow sounded in his ear. Fandral grinned and then without any further ado the band launched into 'You Can't Hurry Love' by the Supremes, and it wasn't long before people started to get up and dance, the songs upbeat and familiar, the words known whenever Fandral pointed his microphone at the crowd for them to join in on a chorus. Sif brought Volstagg and his family over to meet his parents when his presence was pointed out, Hildegund taking the baby out of the stroller to hold in her arms, swaying to the music as they talked. The two older children danced around with the energetic unselfconsciousness of youth, and by the time the third song started, Frigga was dancing with the three year old, leaning down so she could hold onto the little girl's hands, a big smile on her face.
"Mother has deserted us," Loki announced, his voice loud enough to carry to her ears. 
Thor picked up the cue instantly. "Mother doesn't love us anymore." 
"Mother prefers to frolic with the children of strangers," Loki observed sadly. 
"It is because we are no longer cute little boys," remarked Thor. 
Frigga turned and glared at them in affront, but the corner of her lips was twitching.
"Oh! Oh! Jail for Mother," they chanted in unison. "Jail for Mother for one thousand years!"
Sif lost it, wheezing with laughter. 
Frigga handed Flosi off to her mother and walked over to her sons. "Lies and slander," she said perfectly calmly, her hands on her hips. "You will always be my darling boys no matter how tall you've gotten, and you are just as cute now as you ever were;  I have the photos to prove it." She glanced at Sif, smiling sweetly. "Come over and you can see their baby pictures." 
"Hey!" protested Thor. 
"I'd love to," said Sif, grinning. 
"Now," Frigga said, holding out her hands. "So you don't feel neglected -- which one of you will dance with me?" 
Loki looked at Thor with a grimace. "We didn't think this through." 
"I'm still too full to dance," said Thor, glad of the excuse, although he wasn't, not really. 
"And it would be rude of me to leave my date," apologised Loki. "Why don't you dance with Father?"
"Cowards," said Frigga good-naturedly, and turned to her husband. "Come on, Odin, let's show the boys how to have a good time." 
Odin, though, was cuddling the smallest Volstaggson on his lap, both man and child looking perfectly content with this arrangement. "But -- " he began. 
Volstagg turned and scooped up young Rolfe. "I've got him." 
Frigga held out her hand, and Odin took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "Well, if my lady wishes it -- " he said. A minute later they were dancing.
Sif raised one delicate eyebrow at Loki. "When did this turn into a date?"
"When I needed an excuse not to dance with my mother to..." He paid attention to the music for a moment, watching his father spin his mother around, both of them looking like they were enjoying themselves. ""Help Me Rhonda" by the Beach Boys?" 
"Is your issue with your mother or are you just shy about dancing in public?"
"My issue is dancing with my mother in public in front of a girl that I'm trying to impress and look cool for," admitted Loki, being unusually forthcoming. 
"Well, I think it would be sweet if you danced with your mom. But your parents look nice together, too." 
"He's a completely different person when he's at work, but with Mother -- yeah, you get used to it. It can be embarrassing sometimes when they start in with the flirting, but -- "
"It's nice," said Thor, knowing exactly what Loki was going to say. "Nice to know that they have such a solid marriage. That's what I want," he said wistfully. "Someone who I can still be having fun with when I'm their age." 
"Mm," agreed Loki. "What about you, Sif? What are your parents like?"
"My dad's career military, so he's not always around, but when he's home it's nice; we do things. And mom gets a chance to relax and let him take care of things for a bit."
They stood there for a couple of minutes, bopping in place,  watching Odin and Frigga dancing, and Volstagg's kids jumping around, and Volstagg pulling his wife up to join them, holding his youngest easily in the crook of one arm as they danced. The song wound down and a new one started. Sif made a decision and squared her shoulders. 
"Come on," she said firmly. "Dance with me." She extended her hand to Loki. "If this is a date, then there should be dancing." 
Loki had never really considered "Help" by the Beatles to be a good song to dance to, but, as they figured out some moves, he stopped caring about looking silly and started having fun. It was all in the company, he decided. Maybe he'd even dance with his mother if the right song came up, maybe Jane would show up and give Thor someone to dance with. Maybe this was going to be the best summer of his life.
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hiimzzzz · 1 year
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Autobiography
I was born during the summer, on the 10th day of March 2004 in the busy city of Las Pinas. We are three siblings in the family and I was the third. Unfortunately, my brother Ruzel died when he was still an infant. I was raised by my grandparents from my father's side because my parents have to work for the betterment of our family, they say. I grew up a typical way, Ido what other children would do but I didn't grow close and open to my family. Maybe it's because of the different treatment of my parents between me and my brother, Selwyn. I was always left behind during vacation trips because someone had to be at home to feed the dogs and take care of our grandmother from my mother's side. It was tough but I don't really mind it, after all, that's the thing that changed me, shaped me, and made me become the Zandrew I am today. Fast forward to when I started my high school life, I experienced the sign of coming of age and of course, I experienced my first love. It was so cruel and chaotic but I am thankful that it happened because it also help me become what I am now. There I developed the thinking that sometimes, something is just too cruel for us to have so it'll leave. Sometimes, things will not go the way we planned them and we have to accept that fact. That is also the time when I learned how to play the guitar. I used a youth choir guitarist but my way of playing the instrument does not really match up, it was more of a rock and roll manner. I was forced to quit the choir because of the way I played during that one mass. But that did not stop me from playing the guitar because I often play songs at school with my other classmates and I was part of a school band. The year was 2017 and during the month of November, my father got sick with tuberculosis. He was immediately brought to the hospital near their office. He stayed at the intensive care unit for almost one month because his condition was so bad. That is the time when I experienced the holiday season alone, the Christmas and New Year passed by without a single glimpse of happiness. He got discharged in January 2018 and started recovering for 6 months before going back to work. Days passed by and the year 2019 came, the year the COVID-19 pandemic started. It was my birthday when the quarantine started, it was only a one-week suspension that turns out to be years. At first, it was hard because I can't do the things that I always do but then I find ways to do something just to erase boredom. I experienced online and modular classes during my last grade as a junior high school student, it was something foreign to a student because we are used to always going to school every day. I accepted academic commissions that got me paid 500 pesos per quarter. I graduated with honors and applied as a senior high school student at Emilio Aguinaldo College - Cavite. I am currently enjoying my last year as a high school student and college life is around the corner. This is very tiring because I joined too many extracurricular activities, I am part of the school press which is The Emilian Chronicler, I also played basketball for HUMSSstrandduringourintramurals and now I am playing for SHS12, I am also playing for a band that will perform in our school for an event. My life is a busy life but I still enjoy the things I do because I enjoy exploring different things. I do have a lot of dreams and a lot of other things I wanted to do, I guess I am an explorer. Things that happened to me since I was a child are the things that made me up today, I am thankful for everything because it will not be the same if something was missed. I still have a long way to go and I am sure that there will be a lot of things that will shape me and help me shape my adult figure.
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rin-the-cat · 2 months
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How do you explain to someone that you were so shat on by your peers when you were a kid that you grew up without a shred of self confidence and that it has taken you more than 20 years to build up a fragile little bit of self confidence but no matter how much you logically know that you know what you are doing and have been told you are good at what you do there is always a part of your brain that is constantly yelling "YOU ARE DOING EVERYTHING WRONG!"
idk.
There's a (relatively) new practice manager at work and she actually makes an effort to manage the practice? what a novel idea. She does monthly one on one "touch base" meetings with everyone and I wasn't sure how to explain to her why answering tech calls (answering basic questions, triaging patients to sort out what needs to be seen right away and what can wait a day when appointments are filled etc) is such a source of anxiety for me. She wants to know if there's anything she can do to help and boy I wish I knew. The receptionists used to do a lot of this but they really shouldn't be so that means that there's a lot more tech calls. It's always been the lab person who was in charge of answering them because you're always right there by the phone but it went from one or two calls a week to several a day. I am getting more comfortable with them
But today really sucked. We are supposed to leave in the morning to go visit the in-laws. We currently have 3 cars because I was driving a big third-row SUV but hated it. When mom passed away I bought her smaller SUV out from my brothers with the intention of selling the big one SUV. The problem is that there is a recall on it, something about the air bag, so the dealer wouldn't buy it back and I just haven't been motivated to get around to selling it. I also don't feel great about the idea of selling a car that has a recall on it to someone? like that feels hella shady to me. The other problem is that when it comes to making trips like this one to the in laws the smaller car just isn't big enough, we're talking about driving 500 miles with 2 adults, 2 kids, 2 dogs and 2 cats, along with all our stuff.
So I drove the big suv to work today because I brought the dogs with for their annual check-up and the breaks were grinding... I called the dealership in town because I know a lot of coworkers use them and they were able to get the suv in to look at it and they said if it was just the brakes that needed replacing they could get it done today. Well they wern't able to get around to looking at it until 4ish which I spent the whole day dealing with that uncertainty. And then despite the fact that the clinic wasn't that busy, I was swamped in the lab. And I had a little murphy's law going on and everything kept going wrong. Nothing big, just lots of little things and by the afternoon I was on the brink of tears... and then the dealership finally called me and it's not just the brakes, but also the calipers and the rear shock absorbers also need replacing. And they still can't get the parts to fix the recall issue that prevented us from selling it in the first place. All in all it's going to be $2,000. AND now we have to drive to Missouri in the smaller vehicle.
And the real kicker is that back when we tried to sell it to the dealership, if we had gone in 2 weeks or so earlier the recall hadn't been issued yet and they would have bought it...
I wish I never bought the SUV in the first place. The only reason I went with that over a smaller vehicle is that we wanted to be able to go places with mom with out having to use two vehicles after the youngest was born. So we bought it just be fore he was born... in march 2020... you know, right before everything shut down... and then mom got sick so we literally never went anywhere with all five of us and the whole point of buying it was moot.
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jiessicas · 1 year
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07.09.23 & 07.10.23 OOO ⛺🌳🌊
camping is so cool. i want to go back! it was my second time (the last time was 2016 in northern idaho); it feels like a deeply american thing to want to go out into a designated patch of land to live off of as a recreational activity and…. i get the appeal though i hope that the practice can be parlayed into something more communal/integrated into my life in a city (the fantasy of having a tidy, self contained existence…. as a kid i liked how turtles had their homes seemingly wherever they went)
i think about someone who said, only white poets write about animals, and nature (and i get the sentiment), and at the same time, i think i want to build my connection to the natural world, which i never really thought of as a place for me to feel a connection to / to linger within growing up
we traveled through so many climates / terrains, all in one day (huge shout out l, the mvp) — california is incredible and i’m convinced the american dream is to have a little plot and a little chair to sit in the sun within (and maybe a driver’s license and an open road— i just got a reminder to renew mine, though i haven’t used it in the four years i’ve had it)
feel so scattered but maybe that's the whole point; so many new things to take in/process (as is always the case, it seems); so many conversations i'm grateful for this weekend
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07.09.23
pretty winged things in your area (encountering beautifly among others on pokemon go)
found another lil grounding tether (signed up for a generative spec fic class in august)
The Week I Had Three Açaí Bowls, The Third Of Which I Regurgitated Into A Trashbag On A Road-trip To Petaluma
hot girls (me) drink like 3 liquids simultaneously (pocari sweat; ginger tea; ?sodium? water) when their stomach isn't cooperating; more being humbled by my body; was a lil more sensitive to car sickness than usual
saw a plushie of three peas in a pod on someone's dashboard
drove through the windows xp hills
gathered treats & supplies at target/tj/sports basement
there was someone at sports basement who set us off with a "have a great camping trip" who had randall park vibes -- it was sweet, and built up this feeling for me of like, living out a second adolescence to do the camping i wasn't really interested in growing up
got to the campsite ~7p; spent the whole time figuring out how to put one (1) stake in the ground while s figured out the rest... "they're like origami shelters" - l
gathering around fires; there was prechopped wood lying around, watching the moss burn was trippy
subsisted (contently) off of baby yogurt pouches and hot dogs/brioche
around the campfire, talked about ghost stories / familial histories; roasted hot dogs; toasted some bread, listened to the frogs ribbit; brushed some earwigs off of our stuff; went to sleep with the cover off to look at the sky
07.10.23
woke up, wandered around, saw some deer crossing the creek by the visitors' center from a couple dozen feet away; we just looked at each other for a while; there seemed to be groups of parents and their fawns? the smallest ones looked like really jumpy puppies when they skittered across
our campsite felt like a cute pop-up small town; there were two kids on a bike, going in circles around the campgrounds, everyone was set up and lounging, almost as if we each had a front porch facing into a shared circle/meadow
we went on a small hike, saw lizards pumping their arms and basking in the sun, really tall dandelions, a tiny observatory that also laid out a hiking trail with the solar system scaled down to their trails; a community science center
microdosing small town america...dropped off our gear and meandered to a town f grew up in, first stopping by a bagel shop they would walk to after school, then ambling through the downtown, where i bought a few poetry books, and then some; it was really sweet to find a book that anthologized poets from the region; it was really special to get to read it on the drive back
in the downtown, there were also especially tall lavender plants and honeybees; we stopped into a shop that sold fossils?! and meteorites?! working theory is that this place is asteroid city in disguise....
walking around a bakery/community garden, i couldn't help but think about how the things we consider utopic often are concerned with just having like, enough to be comfortable -- why can't there be community gardens and green spaces that everyone has access to?
we also stopped by a grocery store to buy stone fruit, pet a cute dog in a bandana, take some funny wes anderson-y pictures; tomales bay for oysters; various scenic lookouts along the pch
++ a really nice conversation with questions prompted by s: what would make sense only for this summer? for these six weeks? what makes it go well? what kinds of installation pieces? what kinds of group projects?
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dyzziiii · 1 year
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BIG and HUGE venting under the cut ignore if u know me irl pls lol. ill die of embarassment otherwise. thank u.
it gets harder and harder and harder to ignore that its beyond time for me to just stop trying to have a connection with my parents and that they will never be anything like the people i want them to be so much.
i don't know why my brain won't just grasp that this isn't fixable and they won't magically love me the way i want them to love me. they've had 30 years to try and I've run out of things to offer them as payment.
i go back and forth on this rollercoaster of grieving for them even though they're still alive, and then being hurt by them because i can't unpin my self esteem from how they treat me or ignore me.
deep down, it just feels so fucking hollow and soul-shattering to realize that the only people who were supposed to love me unconditionally never really got that attached to me. I'm a prop on their life journeys towards whatever fucked up selfish end they're after. When it came down to it, they both chose themselves over me.
My dad has all these stories he loves to get credit for about being a young, single dad working so hard just to take care of adorable, precious me, and how he would sometimes put back some non-essential groceries so I could get a comic book at the checkout line, and how he once made me a whole toddler-sized furniture set out of hand-me-downs and cardboard boxes because i wanted to live with him even though he didn't have a proper bedroom for me yet, and its like, yeah, I thought he was great too, but then everything changed when i was a preteen and teen and he let his new wife berate me nearly daily until my self-esteem was so low i wanted to die.
When I moved out at 16 because i was missing so much school from being stress sick all the time, I begged him to make it safe for me to come home, thinking that finally (after years of watching me break down at her emotional abuse) he would take me seriously-- or miss me, or want me around-- and then... he didn't. He never really tried. I never went home.
I ask myself some questions a lot that I'm terrified to get answers to:
How long before he stopped looking for me? When did things no longer seem out of place without me in his life? How many trips to the store before he stopped buying the snacks I liked? When was the first time he set the table and didn't have the urge to grab a third fork and knife? How many days before I wasn't an hourly thought? Daily? Weekly? i'm terrified it's a low number. Something in me knows it is.
He once told me (on accident) that things got easier after I moved out. He tried to walk it back but I already heard it and it wasn't a surprise.
Those classic cartoon episodes where someone does the "I wish I was never born!" thing and then they see that all their loved ones are miserable without them??? stupid.
And my mom, too! I gave up so much to take care of my mom as a kid. From age 7 onwards, I was her primary caretaker.
I knew all her medications by heart and went to nearly every blood draw, doctor's appointment, and ER visit. She'd tell people I was her angel. I was so proud to be that for her. She said she survived all the times doctors told us she'd die because she wanted to live to see her kids grow up. Sounds like such a sweet story.
I put hundreds of hours into gameboy games because I spent so much time doing nothing, by her side. Because she wanted me there, like how old people want a lap dog.
I thought she needed someone to do everything for and with her-- get her drinks, make her food, raise her son (6 yrs younger than me), be her therapist, give her demerol shots, entertain her addict friends, babysit their children, hang around disgusting houses full of terrifying men while she disappeared into back rooms to get just a little extra xanax to get her through the week, sang loud songs with my brother in the bathroom with the door locked so he might not hear my stepdad threatening to murder us again, clean the rat-infested house covered in dog shit and nicotine stains, stayed kind while she let most of our pets die horribly or decided she would rather sell them when we weren't home, held frozen food to her head while she had a seizure because we didn't have any ice, promised not to call 911 or else CPS would take my baby brother away forever, snuck out to the strawberry fields to steal enough to eat, accompanied her to graveyard shifts at the gas station and ran the registers so she could take hour-long smoke breaks, slept on a dirty, cigarette-burned mattress from the 80s that had old period stains from stepdad's older sister, carried our 1 lightbulb room to room when we had power, or unplugged the fridge so we could run the microwave when we didnt have power (for months at a time) and just had 1 small powerstrip running from the neighbor's house, staying up all night to herd her away from the toaster she kept jamming a knife into, locking her in her room by sitting up against the door all night and holding strong when she threw her broken body at it, gently bringing her out of her medication-twilight where she thought she was still in high school with her whole life ahead of her and having to watch her come to terms with being a permanently disabled ex-teen-mother living in severe poverty and domestic abuse and being an addict all over again and grieving her life together while she cries, dressing her when she'd wander the house high and naked... you know, normal sick-mom-caretaker-daughter stuff you do until you beg your dad to come get you one day at 4AM when you're 12 years old and ready to break, after which you swear to yourself you'll never stay there after dark ever again, and the decision haunts you because you wanted to be stronger for your baby brother but you know if you stay, you'll never pass 7th grade.
And then eventually, in my late 20s, she disowned me and my brother for (more or less) saving her life for the dozenth time. She doesn't even remember doing it because she was so gone, but for the first time since I was 12, I made her feel the impact of her choices and stopped seeing her in real life beyond the barest minimum. I stopped calling and only answered when I felt strong enough to keep her at arm's length. My brother moved away for a while.
I waited for her to miss me.... and to need me. She needed me, right? That's why I suffered so much for her. She needed me. I was her hero and she couldn't live without me, right?
Wrong. She never needed me. She just... moved on. Life went on. She apologized but hasn't tried to change anything about her lifestyle in the slightest. She won't manage her health. She won't stop seeing the people who give her the things that ruin her. All the things I thought I had to do to protect her and keep her alive were just conveniences for her. She quickly found other people to do those things for her. Someone else hears about her problems now. Someone else pays for her to stay in trashy motels to hide from her husband when he picks up the meth habit again or has a mental episode and turns scary. Someone else rides in the ambulance with her and lists off all her medications by heart.
A few years ago my stepdad called out of the blue and told me my mom was on a ton of xanax and pain pills and just kept begging him to go outside and yell for me. She thought I was a little kid, out playing in the yard, and she wanted me to come inside and sit with her because it was getting dark out. He wanted me to talk to her and tell her I was okay and I'd be home soon, so she would calm down and go to sleep, because she hadn't slept in days. She was crying so hard, scared for the little girl version of me who loved her and wasn't coming home. She needed me again. I wasn't there.
It's so fucking haunting. I'm still so angry he called me, and I replay it all the time in my head. She loved me (in a selfish, broken way) really deeply, but when it came down to it, she would rather have her addictions than me.
Sometimes it's like I have to mourn for the sweeter, softer versions of myself who died when I left these places. It's like I'm looking for them, too.
I should hate my parents but I miss them so fucking much.
But not really the them I've known, but just the them I thought they were, or that I made up in my head as a kid, maybe? The little snapshots of them when times weren't so bad all mashed together into what I wanted them to be? I don't know.
I want some better, kinder, less selfish version of them to love me and be proud of me and I want to feel whole in the way people can when their parents love and are proud of them.
its so STUPID. I shouldn't care. I'm an adult. I hate that I care!
Am i going to be like them? Forever locked into some selfish stupid pursuit of what I think my ideal life should be? Dad wanted a "normal" household with a wife and kid and dog and white picket fence and he got that in my stepmom and the baby they had when I was 15. Mom wanted to escape her chronic pain and live like the teenager she didn't get to finish being, and here she is, partying away her 50s in the most destructive way she can.
Is my version of that being a kid again and feeling safe and loved and creative? That's even worse, honestly. I want to grow up.
i gotta stop because ive been spiraling really bad yikes yikes.
shout out to my dad for deciding to visit and critique every aspect of my life, and my mom for sadtexting me how she misses me while actively ignoring my calls because she can't stay sober for logner than a few days at a time
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Tell me about the first five photos you have on your phone or camera. in my phone gallery, the first two are selfies. one is a close up, one’s a mirror shot. the third is of our cat and our guinea pig who passed back in September that we had since 2018 both lying next to one another on my fiance’s lap. the fourth is of just our cat on his lap. the fifth is of the same guinea pig wrapped up in a ‘hidey hole’ in the blanket on the couch. 
Have you got any half or step siblings? a stepsister by marriage, and she’s the sister I never had!
Have you ever known someone online and then met them in person? If so, which website did you meet on? I’ve met several people online, two of which I consider sisters who I met in late 2007 and early 2008 respectively. I met the first one from 07 who’s name is Allie, my nickname for her is Bee, and she’s British and lives in the UK. December 2012 she got to go with her class in uni on a school trip to NY and I made damn sure I got there from NJ to finally meet her face to face. best three days of my life, despite hellish circumstances during and revolving around the trip...definitely worth it. I can’t wait to see her again hopefully in the near future since it’s been over a decade since (OMFG THAT LONG?!...)
oh and we met through roleplaying sites for the show Instant Star which was made by the producers and creators of Degrassi.
When was the last time you were sick and what illness did you have? I’m ALWAYS fuckin sick cause of my Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome...
Do you know anyone with a serious anger management problem? ha try my entire family on mom’s side, Mom being the WORST.
What color is your wallet? it’s black, gold zipper and it’s an Eevee wallet so it’s got a big pic of Eevee on it with symbols spread out in the background
Have you seen all the Lord of the Rings movies? many many times over!
Do you have an unhealthy obsession with colored furry throw pillows that are different shapes and sizes? no
Have you ever had to call the cops on someone else before? I don’t believe I ever did personally, but god knows all my life the cops have been called on us cause of the constant domestic violence with my mom and dad, and then later on because of my mom and me....
Don’t you hate it when people suddenly love a celebrity when they die? I mean I don’t take it personally but with anyone, not just celebrity but especially any human being especially those closest to you, it’s fucked up when they make such a scene after the fact rather than while they were still alive. it seems shallow as fuck and fucked up.
What was the last cocktail you drank? Jack and Coke and dear fucking god do I neeeeeeeeeed some right now!
Are you good at keeping running counts and tallies in your head? to an extent but my mind constantly runs so much and adding in my anxiety and short term memory issues...not very well or long
Are there any foods you hate the smell of but like the taste, or vice versa? hmm not sure really
Do you have a dishwasher? no and it sucks not having one 
Do you make to-do lists? no
What pet names do you use for your friends/loved ones? I call everyone hun, guy or girl. obviously babe, baby for my fiance. and my two close girlfriends who I consider sisters, I call one Suga and the other Bee. we also call each other nob too. inside jokes over the years that stuck lol
What pet names do you like to be called? babe, baby, girl (in affectionate way)
Have you ever developed your own film? no
What breed was the last dog you saw? I saw a few out with their owners yesterday on the drive to and from the cancer institute...umm I can’t really remember what kinds, but I could swear one looked like a border collie :P
What’s your favorite thing to do at the end of the day? relax as much as possible, distract with tv, scrolling through my phone, cuddle with the cat
Do you have a hard time letting things go? yeah 
When did you last feel fear? last week cause I slipped and it was obvious from how I was talking on the phone with mom, so needless to say I was terrified she’d text my fiance about it..
What last made you smile? phone call a little while ago with results from an ultrasound I had yesterday on my neck for an upcoming surgery, which were negative for any spreads
Have you ever walked through a sunflower field? yeah when I was very little, Mimi loved sunflowers and I have pictures of us standing in front of one...I don’t remember it though sadly
Are you a fan of Taylor Swift? What’s your favorite song from her? yeah, I’ve got several faves
What’s something great that has happened to you recently? finding out that my fiance saved up/set aside $3,000 so I can finally pay off all my fines from my DUI last year and revoke my probation so it’s finally over...such a fucking unbearable weight and stress for over a year now, is finally almost done and I’ll be free of it hanging over us...
Would you ever paint your bedroom bright blue? not bright but my bedroom at my dad and stepmom’s house I had painted a slate blue shade so it’s kinda on the semi darker side..kinda grayish blue similar to Tumblr homepage but lighter
What’s your favorite way to eat rice? with a fork, and with soy and duck sauce. I can’t use chopsticks to save my life lol
What’s something that has really impacted your life? so many things that I really can’t get into right now...
What did you last have as a snack? David brand pumpkin seeds with the shell (the same brand that makes the best sunflower seeds)
Do you like lima beans? they’re okay
How many bottles do you see from where you’re sitting? a few, wish they were alcohol
Do you ever do these surveys with your SO? no
Do you have a waste basket in your car? currently don’t have a car, but usually do a trash bag hooked around the stick shift, fiance does the same thing but he rarely uses it XD he just tosses stuff in the back or on the passenger side floor where I sit when I’m in it with him
What’s the last wild animal you have seen? birds around our house, and yesterday on the way to the cancer institute we saw a wild turkey along the side of the road :D we get those from time to time around here given all the land and farms
Something you were surprised to learn about your parent’s childhood? just how much partying and drugs they really did compared to the lighter version of honesty I got from them all my life...explained sooooooo much of my very young years (baby-7 years old)
Have you ever told a friend you thought their parent was hot? not to their face...XD
Have you ever destroyed another person’s belongings out of anger? no I grew up with shit being busted and thrown and used as a weapon even, I could never do that ever...
Which painkiller do you use? usually Ibuprofen/Excedrin. I have a prescription for Fioricet which is as needed for severe migraines, which I’ve had all my life genetically from my grandfather on mom’s side but the last several years I’ve weirdly been okay so yeah just over the counter mostly
Would you like to be part of a wedding party? I’ve been a guest to a few, but yeah to actually be like say a bridesmaid would be cool...although I’m waiting on my own wedding right now
Have you ever thrown anything up to hang on the power/phone lines? no
Something you taught yourself how to do? tie my hair in a ponytail and never looked back, write songs, some “feminine” needs...
What is the last song you listened to in a car? we weren’t playing any music yesterday, so I guess the radio station my last Uber had on which was on March 28th
Do you currently feel calm? yeah I’m okay right now
If applicable, what’s your favorite sports team? GB Packers, NY Giants, NY Jets
When did you last sign your signature? about an hour or so ago for a specialty med that was dropped off at my door. I had to sign the receipt to send back to them for no copay, that I received it, and to sign up for text message notifications regarding getting refills and shipping
What cover do you think is better than the original song? definitely Sound of Silence that Disturbed does. David Dreyman’s voice is so fucking perfect for that song, and I love the spin on it that they did. so haunting and beautiful and emotional.
Who is the last person that gave you butterflies? my fiance every day
Are you planning on kissing anyone tomorrow evening? yeah my fiance
Have you ever told a guy you were a lesbian to get him to leave you alone? no 
If you have a favorite television show, who’s your favorite character? impossible considering there’s so many shoes, let alone characters 
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dashofmonsters · 3 years
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Snowfall- Pt. 1
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Male Orc x Female Reader
You and Sloan have been dating for three months now and everything has been great, well aside from the lack of alone time. You've been inducted into his friend group via Rynan's approval and everyone keeps inviting you and Sloan to hang out. You of course don't mind it but you wish to spend more time with just him. Apparently feeling the same he surprises you with a trip to his family's cabin up north. Just you and him and a cozy cabin with no possible problems or intrusions in sight, hopefully.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You and Sloan had just got back to his place after the third barbeque with his friends this week. At first being invited to hang out with his friends was great. You met Rae, his old friend from high school who gave him the butterfly butt tattoo along with some mutual friends of Rynan and Sloan. It's nice meeting new people and everything but you miss spending some quality alone time with your boyfriend.
"I never thought I'd say this but if I have to eat another rack of ribs anytime soon, I'm going to vomit," Sloan grumbles as he collapses onto the couch.
"It's your own fault for taking that fourth helping... Should I go get an antacid?" you ask, setting your purse down on the coffee table.
Sloan peers up at you from the couch cushions with the most pathetically adorable puppy dog eyes he can muster. You roll your eyes and laugh before bending down to kiss him on the cheek.
"Sit up and I'll go get you some water too," you walk off to grab the needed items from the kitchen. You hear Sloan groan as he struggles to sit up and not get sick.
After getting him to take the medicine and drink a couple glasses of water you turn him ever so slightly and start rubbing his shoulders.
"Oh that's nice," he purrs. "Your hands are magic."
"I expect you to return the favor, tomorrow though. You need to sleep this off, and maybe not eat so many heavy foods for a couple days," you lean forward and kiss his neck.
"Probably a good idea...," he agrees and grumbles.
"You ok love?" you ask.
"Yeah it's just that...do you like going to these uh...'get togethers'...gods I sound like my nana...," he groans.
"I do, especially when Rae is around or when Rynan breaks out the karaoke machine...but it is starting to get well... and I'm not trying to sound mean or anything but it's just-"
"Getting tiring?" he tilts his head back with a tired smile.
You nod your head.
"I was thinking the same thing. I hardly get you to myself anymore and I don't want to come off as a jealous sort but I at least want to be able to spend more time with you, alone," he confesses, leaning back further till his head was against your chest.
"Well if memory serves me correct I believe we've been invited to two more cookouts and Rae's cousin's annual bar crawl," you poke at him.
He sits back up and re-situates himself on the couch, dragging you into his lap in the process. You snuggle up in his arms and lay your head against his chest.
"You know how we have winter vacation in a couple weeks, where we'll be off till after the new year? Well what would you say to going to a cabin up north for a week? Just you and me and a bunch of snow?" he asks, sounding a tad nervous.
The thought of cuddling and getting cozy with Sloan in a cabin surrounded by snow sounds enticing. Your brain theater starts playing a bunch of scenarios until you're passed the point of convincing yourself.
"Hmm a week alone with you...And I'll have you all to myself?" you ask, teasing him.
"I'm already all yours angel, but yes, no one else will get to come between us," he replies.
"I take it that you already made plans and everything?" you raise a brow. He knows you don't like doing anything big or pricy when it comes to your dates and that you like planning them with him but he'd occasionally slip and surprise you with a nice dinner or going and doing something. Luckily it wasn't anything too over the top.
"It'll be a two day road trip using my family's camper and the cabin belongs to one of my cousin's up north that she only uses maybe once or twice a year. Everyone in the family kind of uses it so we have to schedule around each other and I always book it for the same week so there's never a fight for it," he shrugs.
You thought you were used to how grandeur Sloan and his family lives but just when you find yourself getting used to it, he throws another curve ball at you. From what you've heard they've fully earned it, everyone having worked hard most of their lives.
Noticing that you're contemplating he adds, "There's also a jacuzzi."
Narrowing your eyes and pursing your lips you pinch his cheek.
"You're at least going to let me help pay for the gas and food ok. I don't want you to feel like you have to pay for everything on this trip, it just doesn't seem right. If we're going to be a couple lets do it properly and share responsibilities," you lecture him.
He gives you a huge soft smile before leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours, "More than anything I want to get this right with you, so if you want to take over some of the expenses then by all means. We'll go over our budget in the morning, how does that sound?"
You nod and kiss him, "Sounds like a plan."
Sloan tells you about the cabin and how his family has used it since he was a little kid. It's currently in his cousin's name but it used to belong to his grandfather and everyone just kind of pitches in for the upkeep now. He goes up there to for a week of relaxing and snowboarding to your surprise. As if picking up on your curiosity he breaks out a couple albums his nana put together for him and a DVD.
"My nana and aunts insist on recording anything and everything, including comical failures. Oh and if the quality seems like shit this was originally on VHS," he laughs, popping the disc in and pressing play.
On the screen was a group of young orcs on snowboards and skis. Sloan points himself out but you already knew it was him since he was a little shorter than the rest. It was his first time attempting to snowboard and he looked excited. As the video played on you try your best not to laugh at how bad his falls and fails were.
"Please tell me you got better," you snicker, watching a young Sloan slide right into a tree, unfazed and then collapse backwards into the snow with a groaning sigh.
"I got a ton better thanks to my cousins. I was going to give up but they were determined to have me on a snowboard and not skis. There was apparently a bet placed on me if I'd go for skis or a snowboard," Sloan shrugs.
You continue the video and eventually get into the albums that are filled with photos of Sloan throughout the years. You notice that it's not till much much later on that he starts bulking up. The cabin shown in the pictures is absolutely fantastic! It makes you think of those winter cabins you see on postcards and calendars. You were excited before, but now you can't wait for winter vacation to begin.
______________
It's been almost two weeks now and you can hardly contain yourself. You and Sloan have been making plans, preparations, and talking about the expenses almost everyday. Yesterday he got the camper out of storage and the both of you spent a few hours dusting and cleaning it up. It's almost surreal to you that any of this is happening at all, a winter get away with your boyfriend to a cozy cabin sounds too good to be true.
"We'll be leaving right after work tomorrow and parking for the night at a RV park right outside the state," he shows you the map on his phone during break.
"Is this the one that's got the little river nearby or is this the one near the winery that I'll need to keep you away from?" you smile with a raised brow.
"I love you my angel but I'm going to get at least one bottle, for when we get to the cabin. But no, this is the one that's near the really really awesome diner," he says, smiling dreamily at the thought of good food.
You roll your eyes before stepping away to put on another pot of coffee. Today hasn't been nearly as busy as it has been but both you and Sloan have been busting your asses getting ready for the trip. This is your first time going on a road trip as an adult so you wanted to do it right even though you know mistakes are unavoidable.
Sloan had confessed that this is his first time inviting someone to the cabin and he wants to make it special but he also knows you don't like things over the top and prefer things a bit more simple so you both decided to compromise with certain things, like the wine.
The day went on pretty uneventfully with two walk-ins that you and Sloan took. Half the staff clocked out early since most of them were by reservation only and everyone else just sort of lingered around the halls and breakroom. Sloan said it's pretty standard on the last couple of days.
Another thing that had become standard was you and Sloan having clean up duty at the end of the day, when everyone was gone. If this was any other job with anyone else, you'd have quit by now. Now though, it was one of the few times you and Sloan got any alone time.
"Thank the gods tomorrow is a half day," you sigh as you toss the towels in the washer.
"Agreed, do you have everything packed and ready on your end?" he asks.
"For the most part, I still have to pick up some stuff I ordered from the store on the way home," you admit. You didn't have a lot of cold weather clothes since it's usually warm. That and you wanted to surprise him with a little something extra.
Sloan nods his head while putting the clean towels up, "Do you want me to come over to your place tonight or in the morning?"
"If you don't mind my house being an absolute mess then you can come over tonight. I tend to panic pack and tear through everything and double and triple check," you give him a flat smile and shrug.
"My angel I have seen your house after your brother's birthday party, I don't think it can get any worse," he replies, grabbing more clean towels to fold.
You laugh and help him finish up folding. The cleaning gets done fairly quick and although you both flirt and tease each other, you decide to lay off the after work fling. Sloan walks you to your car, giving you a very long and promising kiss that sends shivers down your spine. "I'll see you in a few hours my angel," he grins.
Parting with excitement you hit both the clothes and lingerie stores to pick up your winter wear and that little something extra. You're already tempted to wear it but you told yourself it would have to wait till you were at least at the cabin. Once you're home you finish packing and go into hardcore cleaning mode to at least have your room and livingroom tidied.
It's nearly ten when Sloan arrives, looking a tad bit annoyed. Apparently one of the back tires on the camper started going flat as he turned into the neighborhood. He called Rae who's dad has works on the camper and got an appointment for him to come swap out the tire in the morning.
"I knew things were running too smoothly, this was bound to happen," he rubs his face and lets out a soft laugh. "Last time it was the waterline." His eyes widen at the horrible memory.
You give him a big hug and lead him to the couch so he can finally relax and kick off his shoes.
"Have you eaten anything yet?" you ask.
"No and I'm starved!" he groans.
You grab some snacks out of the pantry and start perusing on food delivery apps. Sloan tears into them while you order the agreed upon Chinese take-out. As per usual you throw on some terrible UFO encounter show while eating, the both of you debating on how realistic the stories were.
As the night goes on you start cuddling up to him, touch starved from going days without doing it. The both of you have been too exhausted after every outing that sex hasn't been on the table for a while. Tonight felt no different until Sloan started kissing at your neck.
Already in his lap he starts to peel off your clothes little by little, kissing your bare skin ever so softly. His hands start petting you all over, teasing you as he touches ever so close to where you're most sensitive.
"If you're too tired tell me to stop and I will," he pauses his hands when he hears you yawn.
"Don't stop," you sigh, guiding his hand back down.
Sloan picks you up then and hauls you off to the bedroom, laying you down and dragging your panties off. His tusks touch your inner thighs as his thick tongue laps at your folds with vigor. It feels like it's been ages since he's gone down on you with this much excitement, but you're not complaining. Instead you're arching your back right up off the bed as he plunges two fingers in you with no warning.
It's rough and hot and everything you've come to love. Sex with Sloan has truly been one heck of a learning experience but he's a quick study and always remembers what you like. His tongue teases that little bundle of nerves as he pumps his fingers faster and faster, adding another when you start bucking your hips.
He's winding you up so tightly you feel like you're about to snap but you knew better than to expect this to be done anytime soon. He removes his fingers as you expect but instead of teasing you with kisses, he strips in a mad haste and he's crawling on top of you.
His lips are on yours within seconds, devouring you as if he's been starved. You gasp when his cock suddenly thrusts into you and you grasp his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He kisses your forehead and starts to move slowly. This is different from what you've grown used to but sometimes different is very good.
Sloan's thrusting drives in deeper and harder with every passing second and all you can do is hang on. He's kissing you breathless, only your collective gasps and moans a break for air. He pulls out only to change position, placing your legs up against his chest as he sits up. You're shaking and grabbing at the sheets as he thrusts even harder and faster into you, making you tighten around him even more.
Your orgasm hits you hard and he knows it by the way you dig your nails into him and how you curse and scream his name. He lets go of your legs and leans back down and kisses you so softly that it felt betraying of how fast and frenzied his pace had become. Within seconds he's pulling out and spilling all over you, his breath ragged and hoarse.
"That...that was something," you laugh, still catching your breath.
"I've been pent up," he sighs, basking in the A/C that just kicked on.
"I can tell, so have I," you admit.
The both of you take in the cool air a moment longer before deciding to take a quick shower and head for bed. Sloan helps you wash your hair in the shower, something that he loves to do when you wash together. He massages your scalp and shoulders as he works in the shampoo.
"Now this is the kind of spoiling I can get used to," you laugh, rinsing your hair off.
"It's a shame I can't spoil you even more tonight," he slides a finger up your leg and tickles at your slit.
You yelp and swat at him, but he catches your wrist, "Want to make another bet?"
"Oh so I can beat you again?" you raise a brow with confidence.
"We can touch each other all we want but no sex, no release, and no masturbating," he gives you a smug look then kisses your hand before releasing it.
You turn the shower off since the water is starting to get cold and shake some of the water off as you exit and grab the towels. Another bet would be interesting and if the first one was any indication of his taste in prizes you definitely wouldn't mind betting again.
"And I take it that you already have the winnings in mind," you hand him his towel.
He only gives you a smile and a smack on your ass as he leaves the bathroom. You chase after him and pinch his as you pass him up, a sort of unofficial official game you play with each other.
You both dry off and get ready for bed, both of you agreeing on the bet starting once you hit the road since another round is apparently an option when someone remembers where he put the condoms.
The next morning you both get ready and text Miles that the both of you will be running a little late due to issues with the camper. Rae's dad, Charles, luckily shows up early and with the needed replacement. Sloan offers to help but Charles dismisses him since he's already in his nice clean work clothes.
"I've been working on this old piece of work for the last twenty years, if ever I need your help kid please call my wife and tell her I'm either sick or dying," Charles laughs.
"You're sure you're fine? You'll be alright if we leave?" Sloan asks.
"I might be getting up there in age but I'm still able to kick your ass. Now get out of here, you're distracting me!" he points a wrench at Sloan.
Sloan looks like he's about to argue so you grab him by his arm and start escorting him to the car, "You heard the man, leave now or suffer the wrath of an ass kicking.
Charles snorts at hearing that and waves the both of you off. Luckily you get to work only ten minutes late instead of the thirty you were expecting. The half day before vacation is usually a last minute clean up, order supplies, and go over reports, complaints, and so on. Miles is running around making sure to take everyone's lists and pass out paperwork while everyone is just hanging back.
"I'm guessing this is normal?" you ask Sloan who was putting together his supplies order.
He pauses, counts on his fingers and the turns to you, "Sorry, head math blank out. What were you asking?"
"Is Miles running around like this normal? I've never seen him this frantic," you glance out in the hall and see him on the phone pacing in a circle looking over some papers.
"No this is a first, Miles usually hands out reports and complaints and Rachel takes the supplies request. I wonder...Now that I think about it, I haven't seen Rachel for the last two days," Sloan mutters and you're about to add to that thought until Miles comes bulldozing in.
"Supplies Lists on the managers desk in five. Your report files and bonuses are there. Sloan can you give me a hand here, you've helped Rachel put in orders before right?" Miles looks to him with tired eyes.
Sloan agrees to help and hands you his list to take with you. When you get to the office to drop them off, you're surprised to see that all of Rachel's personal belongings and décor are nowhere in sight.
Well this is something.
Ignoring the matter for now, you grab the reports and bonuses with Sloan's and your name on it and take them to the respective rooms. You pass the front and see Sloan walking Miles through some websites and a few of the staff waving goodbye and telling everyone to have a fun vacation.
Hours pass and the half day is nearly up, everyone gone except you, Sloan, and Miles. Two and two eventually got put together and you find out that Rachel quit due to some family problems. Everything was now riding on Mile's shoulders apparently as the owners named him the new manager.
"You two can head out soon, I'll be fine..." he sighs, sliding down against his chair.
You really want to, especially since you still have to pack up the camper but both you and Sloan decided to stay as long as you can to help Miles.
"We've got five more suppliers to go over, then we'll all call it a day," Sloan taps the desk.
Miles groans and looks to you for support, "The sooner you get it done the sooner we all get to go."
"You heard her boss man, let's get to it," Sloan smiles.
It's two hours after the half day that you finally get that sweet taste of vacation freedom! Two weeks of paid winter vacay! It's organized chaos once you both start packing up the camper and double checking your bags and fridge to make sure you have everything.
"That should do it, did you make sure to lock up?" Sloan asks, stuffing a duffel bag under the bed.
"Yes, I think...I'll be right back," you dash out of the camper and quickly give the knob a jiggle. Locked.
You rush back inside and see Sloan doing a quick once over of everything and giving a firm nod, "Yeah no I think we're good to go. Is the door locked?"
"Yes it is," you smile.
The beginning of the drive is spent in a bit of an awkward silence until Sloan turned on the radio. That luckily started conversation going.
"I usually just play music from my phone or listen to a podcast or something when I drive up to the cabin so I really don't know how to...entertain someone on a long ride," he admits as he turns the volume down on a commercial.
"When I was little my family and I would take a one day road trip to this sort of off brand run down amusement park and we'd usually just listen to whatever was on the radio or whatever CDs my mom brought with her...lots of Celine Dion and Cher," you laugh.
"Any games? My cousins said they'd play a few when they road tripped with their families but never told me what they were," he asks with a soft smile.
You remember that he was raised by his grandparents and from what you've heard about them, they probably wouldn't have indulged in a long game of punch buggy and I spy, "We played the usual road trip games that you've probably seen or heard of, but we also put twists on them. Like if you saw a pink Volkswagen and claimed it with a punch you got to call shotgun on the way home or my personal favorite was would you rather, we always got creative with that one."
Sloan hums something then gives you a quick and sly side glance, "Would you rather eat soggy potato chips or soggy corn chips?"
You roll your eyes but you can't help but to smile at seeing how happy Sloan looks, "Neither if I had a say in it but I guess corn chips... Would you rather live the rest of your life as an Elvis impersonator or a Dolly Parton impersonator?"
"Easy, Dolly Parton. Would you rather eat mayo out of a jar or drink an entire bottle of vinegar?" he laughs.
You dip your head back and laugh a little yourself before looking him dead in the eye, "Is the mayo warm or cold?"
He looks a bit taken back but answers warm.
"Then I'll eat the mayo," you grin.
"Do I even want to know the reasoning behind that? I feel like the question on its temperature was deliberate," he asks.
"Sibling dares, the warm mayo is honestly the least disgusting of it all. Even the microwaved cereal with mustard wasn't as bad as the other combos..." you pause, cringing at the memory.
"I think that just explain why I saw your brother putting ketchup on his ice cream at his birthday party..." Sloan sighs.
You snicker, "Yeah but he also likes grossing people out for the fun of it."
The both of you go back and forth for a while like this, playing would you rather in between fun or interesting childhood stories. Sloan starts straining his eyes and he eventually makes the call to pull over for a couple hours before making it to the first stop. You both get out to stretch your legs and breathe in that gas station smell.
"I think I need some caffeine if I'm going to get us to the stop tonight," he yawns.
"Want me to run in and grab some energy drinks or coffee?" you ask, about to run in and grab your purse.
"Coffee please," he smiles and before you can run in to grab your purse he pulls you up to him by your hip and he kisses you on the cheek. "Thank you angel."
You run into the gas station and grab the drinks, a couple snacks and a pair of tacky sunglasses for the hell of it. When you return Sloan is back in the camper and resting his head on the table.
"Love, I've got the coffee," you wave the cup in front of him before setting it on the table.
He stretches as he sits up and you hear something pop.
"You're going to let me give you a massage tonight ok," you tell as you start to tear into your snack.
Sloan smiles at hearing that and takes a sip of the bitter coffee and winces, "No objections here."
After refueling you're back on the road and within hours you finally hit the rest stop. It's a small RV park with only two campers there. You help Sloan hook everything up and lock it down before heading to the diner he mentioned a couple days ago.
It's a small old fashion diner with the neon lights and chrome frame. The food is amazing and you're surprised how diverse the menu is, especially the desserts. Sloan and you agree on a pie and take it back to the camper and enjoy with some hot cocoa and a movie.
The night was a lot colder than either of you anticipated but that only gave you an excuse to cuddle even closer. Eventually you made good on your promise to Sloan and started massaging his shoulders. It's not long until he's taking you to the bed where you both lay down and get into some hot and heavy touching and kissing.
Sloan's hand moves down to pull your pants off but you quickly straddle him, "Oh no sir, did you think I forgot about the bet?"
He gives you a sly grin, "I obviously got my hopes up."
"Just be glad that I'm not a fan of distracted driving or else I'd have given you road head hours ago," you laugh and grind yourself against him.
He groans and bucks his hips against you, "Fuck me for making this bet."
"Oh I'll fuck you once we get to the cabin," you laugh and roll off of him and back onto the bed.
He snuggles up to you and kisses your cheek, "I'm glad you agreed to come with me. I've really missed it being just us, no parties or hang outs or whatever we were being invited to do."
"I'm happy to be wherever you are, regardless of the place. But yeah I'm really happy that it's going to be just us," you sigh as you push yourself up. Sloan gives you a quizzical look. "I'm not going to sleep with pie in my teeth."
You both begrudgingly get out of the bed and ready yourself for sleep. Sloan looks at the weather and suggests to dress warmly for the night since a cold front is rolling in.
The next day is very much the same as the prior, you get up and going and make a few stops to stretch and refuel at gas stations. Sloan continues the would you rather game with more explicit add-ons though.
"Would you rather do it on the beach or in a field of flowers?" he asks.
"Oh that's a tough one... run the risk of sand getting in places I don't want or getting bug bites in the middle of sex... I think I'll go with beach. Ok, would you rather do it in high heels or thong on the entire time?" you snicker.
He gives you a suspicious glance, "And who's wearing them?"
"You obviously," you laugh.
He takes a few deep breaths and makes a face, "I'll go with heels."
You double over laughing, not because of his answer but the pained length of time it took him to make it.
"May I ask why?" you wheeze.
"Rae..." he sighs.
"Why is she usually at the center of more than half the bs you get into?" you ask, trying to compose yourself.
"She has this way of getting to people and not just me. If summer camp is my blackmail to behave then Rynan's is Rae's twenty first birthday. I won't go into too much detail but lets just say we all were a little scarred that night," he cringers.
You had learned a while ago that Rae was like the older chaotic sister of the group and you were pretty sure you should keep her away from your older chaotic brother.
"Now then, would you rather...," Sloan pauses as he brings the camper to a stop at the light. He looks over at you with a soft adoring smile and reaches across for your hand, "take a little detour or keep going on to the winery?"
You look around outside and see that it's crisp and clear. It's been a while since the last break and this trip had taught you that you were not meant to be seated for so long.
"I think a little detour would be nice," you squeeze his hand and then point out that the light had turned green..
Sloan drives a little bit longer before pulling over into a small parking lot that looks like it was meant to be a rest stop but never was completed. You pull on your jacket and follow Sloan out who is breaming with excitement. He takes your hand and leads you along a small gravel path that's been hidden away by the brush and trees.
"I found this place about six years ago when I started taking the camper up north. At the time I was just bored and needed to stretch my legs, I had no idea where the trail would take me but..."
He pushes some of the overgrowth aside and helps you down and out into a beautiful clearing filled with wildflowers and deer running across it. It feels like something out of the old romance movies and you can't help but to place your hand over your heart.
You feel his gaze on you and look up to see him smiling with the rings on his tusk glinting softly in the sun. He pulls you closer to him as he lowers himself to kiss you. You feel your heart flutter and almost laugh at how this is making you feel.
"Kissing me in a field of flowers? You really are a hopeless romantic," you sigh against his lips before kissing him again.
"I'd do more than just kiss you but you chose the beach over this," he grins.
You try and smack his arms but he's lifting you up in his arms and hauling you further into the field where the warmth of the sun can be felt. He lays himself down while still holding you, your head coming to rest by his heart. "This is a very pleasant detour," you mumble, face smooshed against his chest.
"If I hadn't been an idiot I would make it a very pleasant detour," he says, lifting your face so you can look at the stupid smug look he's making.
You grin in retaliation as you sit up and grind against him, "It's a shame that you had to make another bet that I'll be winning."
Sloan bucks his hips and you gasp at the friction. You've been wanting to get on with this bet and settle it once and for all since you were hoping to fool around a little more.
"Mmm I love me a confident woman," he moans as you unzip his pants and free his half hard cock. You shimmy out of your pants and panties, feeling the bite of the cold air against your skin as you lower yourself on him. Sloan grabs a fist full of the grass when you start rubbing his cock against your already wet slit.
Once his cock is hard you guide it inside and start rocking your hips. Sloan rolls his to match your pace and you feel yourself already getting hot and tight. You tell yourself not to come, at least not until he does. But Sloan obviously has other plans. He starts to rub a finger against that little bundle of nerves and you quickly have to stop yourself with how close you already are.
"Fuck..." you hiss, grabbing fist fulls of his jacket.
"Was that too much my angel?" he grins up at you.
You roll your eyes and circle your hips, pulling a delicious growl from his lips. "What's wrong? Was that too much?" you mock him with a sly smile.
It's been a while since you've had it rough so when Sloan rolls you off of him and onto the ground you almost blank out when he shoves his cock back in. His hands are holding you up by your hips as he thrusts in and out, desperate for a release that he hopes to make yours.
Teasing is easy, foreplay is fun, but denial is probably the hottest thing you've experienced in a while. Sloan's pace quickens but suddenly stops, his breathing ragged. You know he's getting close, maybe closer than you already are. You start to circle your hips again and even though he tries to stop you, the movement feels too good.
He's shaking, breathing hard and sweating as you keep moving against him. Sloan tries to match your pace but can barely keep himself up.
"Dammit...fuck angel...I..." he quickly pulls out and spills his seed onto the grass. You were already seeing stars as he pulled his cock out so you can't tell if it's a tie or if he won.
Sloan collapses next to you, shoving his now soft cock back into his pants.
"That...that was not as bad as I had thought it would be...I need my pants," you gasp as the cold wind nips at you.
"Any bug bites?" Sloan asks while enjoying the breeze.
You check your legs and dust yourself off real good. You don't feel the stinging itch of any bites which is a good sign. "I think I'm in the clear. You?"
"I think an ant got me but other than that I'm fine," he shrugs.
You both get decent and straighten your clothes up after cooling off. By technicality Sloan had won and you made sure he knew. You might be competitive but a poor sport you were not.
"Oh...oh this is going to be fun," Sloan laughs, moving the overgrowth aside as he starts to lead you back up.
You try and ask what his winning is but of course he's saving it for the cabin, a surprise. That's fine you think, you have a bit of a surprise waiting for him.
The detour ended up putting you two hours behind but with still enough time to hit the winery and buy a bottle and set up the camper for the night. The next day Sloan gets up early and starts on the road a few hours ahead of schedule. You wake up a couple hours later and quickly throw on something warm as you see patches of snow out the window.
"I really wanted us to stop at the river today but the weather isn't in our favor. Looks like the snow hit this area a little early this year," he sighs. "But on the up side with that stop not an option I should be able to get us to the cabin by tonight."
Sloan told you that the cabin was four hours away from the riverside stop. He's usually too tired to drive anymore once he hits that stop for that going the extra miles wouldn't have been an option.
You go into the kitchenette and make a pot of coffee, being extra careful with some of the bumps in the road. The stops are few and pretty quick today and you only play 'would you rather' when it seems like he might need a little help staying up. The last fifty miles are the hardest on him, it's dark and he's been driving all day that not even a drop of coffee will lift him up anymore.
The road up to the cabin is slick with ice and he has to go extra slow as he drives up the spiral drive. When you finally land it's already past midnight. You almost don't want to bother with the bags and groceries but you knew they had to come in.
You agree to only bring in the necessities and worry about the rest for tomorrow, both too tired to do anything extra. You try and take in the beauty of this rustic cabin but it's currently lost of your sleep eyes. You'll marvel at it in the morning you tell yourself. After putting up the food, Sloan shows you to the bedroom which is the only thing your brain can marvel at.
The bed is huge and loaded with blankets and pillows. You flop onto it and kick off your clothes, Sloan following right behind you.
"We made it," he wheezes as he flops onto the bed.
You crawl up into his arms and curl up against his side, "You did good love, get some rest."
Sloan kisses your cheek and pulls you closer, his tusks tickling the back of your neck.
"I love you my angel," he whispers to you.
"I love you too."
Pt.2>
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Kid!MC/Teen!MC Needs someone to go to Parent Teacher Interviews for Them and Guess Who’s Available?
Masterlist
The brothers being bad babysitters/dad figures is something I love very much, I bet you all could already tell that considering the Fic/Headcanon series I have going on. I would just like you all to know that Asmo’s section is based on a true story. Anyhoo~ onto the Headcanons!
Why? Why Him? (Lucifer)
Is MC really dumb, or are they just a kid? No one knows.
Obviously MC asked Lucifer, the only competent one in the house, the most professional, hard-working, controlled-
MC got their things together and gave Lucifer the run down on their teacher(s) before Lucifer got too absorbed in extolling his own virtues in an intense internal monologue.
News flash Lucifer, this isn’t a Shakespeare play, you can’t have a dramatic monologue or soliloquy about how great you think you are
At the actual meeting, if MC is in there, no, MC is not actually in there. Lucifer will speak to the teacher as if MC isn’t there. As someone whose not a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down kind of person, Lucifer expects the teacher to behave the same and not spare MC’s feelings.
Feelings do not deserve to be spared if MC is being a nuisance. No fake-kid/little sibling of his gets to be the class idiot!
If MC’s doing very well academically, he expects to be pointed at projects or tests they’ve done and the grade on it. It really makes him proud to see MC doing well.
Even if they’re not the best academically, if they’re not failing and they’re doing well in other aspects of school, he’s proud.
If MC really struggles in a school environment and just hates it there but they’re still keeping their head above water, they get a head pat of approval.
On the drive home, if MC came with him to the parent teacher interviews and everything went well, he just happens to turn onto the street that has a Baskin Robin’s or something of that caliber.
If they didn’t go, he picks something up on the way back.
No fun treats if MC is being a disruptive little heathen in class, no kid under Lucifer’s care is going to be the class Mammon. Not on his watch.
MC was busily stuffed their face with the treats that were gifted to them. Lucifer had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the kid’s blatant disregard for basic table manners when it came to sweets.
“Is everything the teacher said true?” Lucifer asked, MC looked up at him with a smile.
“Yep!”
“Good, good.” Lucifer held out his hand and patted them on the head. “You’re doing well. Keep it up.”
“Geez,” MC mumbled as they continued to stuff their face. “Can you get anymore affectionate?”
“Don’t be sarcastic, MC. It’s uncouth.” Lucifer said sternly. “Besides, I’ll have you know that many people enjoy my headpats. I’m quite affectionate.”
“Really now? Name one person.”
Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He and MC stared each other down, one pair of eyes much more nervous than the other. Spoiler, MC was still calmly eating their treat as they maintained eye contact.
“…Cerberus.”
“If you’re reaching for Cerberus, you’ve already lost.”
…his pride was under attack. Right in front of his desert…
“You’re grounded.”
“Worth it.”
*Rides by on a Skateboard* School is for NERDS (Mammon)
Pff! Stupid human! He’s not goin’ to some lame parent teacher conference-
Wait! What’s with that face?! Ugh… fine. MC’s gone and forced his hand with those damn puppy dog eyes…
Mammon does not dress up for this event, he dresses like he would every day, maybe throw on some designer stuff to let all the parents and teachers know he’s hot shit.
If MC goes with him, he pulls up in his beloved car and takes up two parking spaces (pure evil.). Every parent present already hates him, but at least the other kids there are impressed with MC’s sweet ride. MC would have gained some street cred if Mammon hadn’t managed to trip up the stairs to the classroom in front of everyone.
He’ll act way to casual with the teacher, turning the parent chair backwards and sitting down so he can lean on the seat.
Mammon gets bored crazy quickly while the teacher lists and explains all the stuff the class is learning, so his eyes begin to wander to any and all displays in the classroom. Projects, annoying posters, class pet, anything is more interesting than this teacher’s explanation.
When MC finally becomes the main topic of the interview, he’s all ears. MC’s doing great in school academically? Ha! Nerd! Maybe giving MC a playful noogie and interrupting the whole interview wasn’t a good idea, but whatever.
If MC’s failing anything, or just isn’t that gifted when it comes to grades, it’s very much a “Aw man me too” from Mammon.
This teacher is speaking with the Great Mammon, the first demon in RAD’s history to fail three semesters in a row. If this teacher thinks bad grades will phase him, they’re dead wrong.
Grades don’t mean anythin’ about smarts anyway! I mean, look at him! He’s a fuckin’ genius but he can’t get through a history test without sobbing even though he LIVED THROUGH MOST OF IT.
MC gets treats no matter what’s up in class. Though, if MC didn’t go with him, he’s likely to forget and just order something for the two of them when he gets back home.
“Goddamn teachers and their rambling!” Mammon whined, grabbing a slice of pizza from the open box on his coffee table. “You owe me, MC! Ya really do!”
“Yeah yeah yeah.” MC said, they leaned over and rolled a pizza slice into a pizza-scroll then proceeded to eat it like a veggie roll. “How do you think I feel, listening to them every day? You know how long it takes to get to the actual class material?”
“Five years?”
“Ugh! Five years if I’m lucky! I swear, I know more about my teacher’s grievances with like… five of my classmates than I do about trigonometry, and guess which one’s on the test next week?”
Mammon winced in sympathy, then remembered he was supposed to be whining and went back to it. “School’s shit and a waste of money, ya should drop out as soon as you can and help me run my new business.”
“You mean your pyramid scheme?”
“It’s not a pyramid scheme, MC! It’s legit! It’s a multi-tiered marketing-”
“It’s a pyramid scheme.”
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOCIAL INTERACTION (Leviathan)
Everyone else must have been sick or something for MC to have asked Levi. He’d flat out refuse to go otherwise.
So, Levi couldn’t exactly go to the interview in his usual “I haven’t left my room or changed clothes in eight weeks” look. With the help of MC, he was able to find his military uniform at the back of his closet.
Asmo nearly fainted when he saw Levi in the uniform, not because “oooo, a man in uniform~”, it was because the outfit was so crumpled and wrinkled that it made it physically painful to look at. No time to iron and wash, the conference was in an hour!
Levi (and MC if they went with) rolled up to the school in a less than impressive ride, but one look at the uniform and all the other people present went “yep, time to be respectful (tm)”
For the first time in his life Levi was more intimidating than Lucifer! And he wasn’t even trying!
When the teacher starts explaining the course material, Levi spaces off in horror as he realizes he remembers literally nothing from school (AND HE’S STILL IN SCHOOL!) all that’s running through his head is “A squared + B squared = C squared” and “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”.
The actual interview was the least interesting part of the trip, the real stuff happened when Levi passed by some art on display in the hallway and something caught his eye-
Those colours… that hair… that adorable smile..!
IT WAS HER! LEVI’S PRECIOUS RURI-CHAN IN ALL HER GLORY!
Levi immediately started fawning over the art class fanart and by sheer coincidence, one of the kids walking through the hallway happened to notice.
The kid asked MC if their… parent and or guardian liked anime. MC responded with “obviously.” Levi then asked the kid if they drew his adorable Ruri-chan. The kid said no, and that they drew the My Hero Academia fanart a few rows down.
Levi was absolutely floored that there were two anime fans in one class, then his entire world shattered when MC explained there was more anime art inside the art room and other classrooms.
H-hang on… did that mean that… a lot of people here… liked anime..?
Levi needed a while to process. No snacks on the way home…
Levi and MC were sat in the back of their Uber, Levi, the Avatar of Envy himself, was having his entire sense of reality warped. S-so much anime fanart… in a school of all places..! What did this mean for the future of anime?!
“Levi. Stop.” MC sighed. “If this were an anime, the camera angle would be doing that thing where it’s right on the bridge of your nose and dramatic music plays in the background.”
“S-so many kids in your class like a-anime huh..?” Levi stuttered, weakly trying to smile. “Must be nice..?”
“Oh, that’s just my class. The other classes and grades have their fans too.”
“Oh… really?”
“Levi,” MC stopped looking out the window and looked at the otaku that was having a full scale silent mental breakdown. “Anime isn’t even a niche interest anymore. It’s a pretty casual thing to watch now. At least a third of my class watches- Levi?”
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH! ANIME! A THIRD OF THE CLASS?! ANIME… HIS PRECIOUS ANIME… WAS BECOMING A NORMIE INTEREST! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-
“Levi?” MC waved their hand in front of their spaced out demon’s face. “Leviiiii? Okay he’s dead.”
The Know it All (Satan)
Ah, a smart choice, MC. Satan would be glad to help further their education. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that the human’s brain is fed all that sweet sweet knowledge.
Satan can’t dress himself normally, MC had to coax him into a suit jacket, but he still only wore one sleeve.
MC was coming along to the interviews whether they wanted to or not, it’s important to hear what they need to improve on from the teacher themselves after all.
The two arrived pretty early, so Satan asked MC for a tour of the school. It was pretty tame until they reached the library. Satan was horrified at the state of some of the books…
Their spines lined with duct tape… pages missing and torn… someone apparently used a taco as a book mark…
The first thing Satan does when it’s time for his interview is demand the teacher take better care of the library, even though they’re not the librarian. MC tries to explain this, but Satan is too distraught to listen to reason.
He enjoyed hearing about the course material, but he made it known if MC thinks the assignments are too easy that they need to be given more challenging work. THEIR BRAIN NEEDS TO BE STIMULATED DAMN IT.
It was up to MC to either agree with Satan and nod to the teacher, or make frantic eye contact with them to try and communicate “NO DON’T PLEASE”.
Similar to (ugh) Lucifer, as long as MC is doing their best, he’s happy for them.
…but if they are in any way in the running for valedictorian he is HELPING THEM WIN.
He decided to stop at a cafe or bookstore to let MC pick out a “congrats on surviving your pitiful school” present after the interviews.
MC gleefully perused the shelves of the bookstore, there were so many books too look at…
“I’ll buy you as many books as you’d like, MC, just,” Satan shuddered slightly. “Promise me you won’t treat them like those poor library books…”
MC put their hand over their heart. “I swear on the duct taped book spines that I will never treat a book like that.”
“Good… good…” Satan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to looking at his book about cats.
“Are you… reading a Warrior Cats book..?” MC asked tentatively.
“Yes, why?”
“Satan, put that back.”
“I Will Seduce the Teacher For the Sake of Your Grades, Don’t Worry.” (Asmodeus)
Oh MC dear! He’d be delighted to go! Just let him get ready~
Asmo may not be the best choice, but he was at least going to be the best dressed person at that conference. (And MC just had to come too so all the other parents could be jealous of how well coordinated their outfits are)
He teased MC a little by saying he was going to flirt with their teacher to make sure they passed the class, but he was just kidding! …but he made sure to ask if their teacher was cute, he needed to know!
While waiting for his turn, Asmo flirts with some of the single parents, if he doesn’t see a wedding ring, they’re fair game.
Once his time slot arrived, MC realized that Asmo is one of those “my child has done and will do nothing wrong ever” types. This may have ended up working in MC’s favour if they were a class nuisance.
If MC is doing very well in sports, clubs, grades, anything, Asmo is fawning over them and gushing to the teacher about how great, smart and adorable they are.
Asmo surprisingly does not exactly flirt with the teacher, he was just teasing MC after all. But um… if MC’s teacher just happens to be cute and young, he may turn up the charm, just a little. Enough to make the teacher giggle and make MC cover their face in embarrassment.
After the interviews Asmo will probably schedule a nice day out for the two of them, shopping, a movie, mani pedis, something fun!
The real weird stuff happens in the months after the interviews… if Asmo did lightly flirt with the teacher, MC gets quite a few questions about their guardian. Questions that ask if Asmo is single in not as many words…
Oh lord, MC’s teacher developed a crush on Asmo.
Nail painting night was supposed to be a fun occasion, but MC was hopping mad and embarrassed. Asmo didn’t seem to notice as he continued to paint the little human’s nails.
“And then I told Phenex to get lost. The nerve of that little monster, right MC?” When MC didn’t reply, Asmo looked up and tilted his head. “MC?”
MC’s angry face would have been much more threatening if they weren’t just so adorable, but it was getting the message across.
“MC..?”
“Asmo.” MC’s glare deepened. “My teacher wants to know if you’re single.”
Asmo blinked a few times, before he hit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Really now~. I knew they’d be madly in love with me-”
“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIS?!”
Oh My Demon King is That a BAKE SALE?! (Beel)
Of course Beel said yes! He’d gladly go to MC’s parent teacher interview!
He even put on a nice outfit :D he ended up looking a bit like a secret serviceman guarding MC, the tiny president.
Beel stopped for McDonald’s on the way there, all the other kids were so jealous of MC when they stepped out of the car eating fries.
But a little something something caught Beel’s eye when he and MC walked into the school… was that a… bake sale?
MC quickly explained that the bake sale was fundraiser for their class trip that year and the snacks weren’t complimentary. He had to pay.
And pay Beel did. He cleared out the entire table. MC’s grade’s overnight trip was going to be decadent as hell. That was no longer a crowd funded thing, that trip was privately funded by a tall buff ginger secret service member and this tiny in comparison child.
Kids are incredibly blunt, just like Beel, so when a random kindergarten kid wandered over, looked up at Beel, and very knowingly said “you’re very tall”. Beel was like “yeah”. The kid then said “what’s it like being that tall?”
Beel’s response to this kid’s question was to pick them up and hold them for a few seconds before placing them back down. For just a few moments this kid knew what it like to be over 6’4. Of course, more kids swarmed in and asked to be picked up.
Sure it was cute, but Beel now has an army of kids ranging from kindergarteners to third graders.
Finally, the conference actually began. Beel snacked the entire time and dutifully listened to everything the teacher had to say.
After the interviews are over, he checks with MC to make sure everything the teacher said was true and that they weren’t lying. If all was well, the two made their exit.
They stopped at Wendy’s on the way home.
“I’m so full…” MC groaned, Beel held up a massive cookie.
“So I can eat this?”
“No. Gimme that.” MC took a very defeated bite out of it. “My stomach says no but my mouth says yes…”
“I don’t want you to get a stomachache, MC,” Beel said worriedly. “No more snacks.”
“It’s a little late for that. It’s past nine and I’m still eating, there’s no way I’m getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.”
“Oh…” Beel mumbled. “I may have not completely thought this through.”
“*Snore* Huh? Wha? MC’s Grades? Uh… Fuck…” (Belphie)
MC must be failing a class or something because why on earth would they pick Belphie otherwise.
They ask him to go while he’s delirious from just waking up from a nap, he sort of half nods and mumbles some gibberish before going back to sleep.
MC had to basically carry his ass to the school. Belphie drooled all over them in the waiting room, and when it was their time to go into the interview, Belphie had to be manually put into the chair and slapped awake.
He barely listens, he just sits and nods along with whatever the teacher is saying. The teacher could say MC brought an alligator to school and he’d just go “uh huh…” “mmmph… yep…” ��really now?” then yawn.
The only thing that could possibly get Belphie to be interested is if MC is studying space. If they are, than boy howdy is Belphie suddenly interested in their education.
Other than that? *snore*
If MC is in fact failing or doing poorly, MC’s teacher asks to see another one of MC’s guardians at a later date. Their plan failed miserably.
MC drags Belphie out of the school and yells at him for not helping them. Belphie, still sleep delirious, tries to press the snooze button. MC does not have a snooze button.
“Belphie!” MC shouted, shaking the Avatar of Sloth awake. The House of Lamentation’s resident bastard was somehow sleeping standing up outside. “HOW COULD YOU?!”
“Eh?” Belphie half-snorted and looked around confused. “What’d I do? Where are we?”
“At my school! You said that you’d go to my parent teacher interviews!”
“…MC I don’t think I’d pass well for you.”
“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AS MY GUARDIAN!”
“Sheesh,” Belphie murmured while he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes. “You humans are so noisy.”
MC looked up at their dearest demon friend, and gave him their best glare. “I’m going to take all your fancy temperature changing pillows and switch them with normal pillows you traitorous bastard.”
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myckicade · 3 years
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Prompt: Ok so we all know Coco is touch starved, and would be clingy af in a relationship. What about Coco x wife!reader, while she’s trying to do basic errands/chores and Coco is her shadow?
A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one. I really have. Hee hee. I just adore Coco. <3 . This piece sort of follows the story of the last two Coco x Reader pieces I have written, but it will stand-alone, just fine. And, I swear, these things just have a mind of their own. I can continue to apologize for length, and content, but, in the end... I let the story tell itself. ;) . <3 .
As a warning, I come from Vermont, where we have a plastic bag ban. Last I knew, California was the first state to have one. I don’t know how that would translate to Santo Padre, but… When I mention fabric bags, I mean reusables, and the ban is why. ^^;;;;.
Title: Worthwhile
Teaser: He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it.
“Okay…” you murmur, slowly, eyes scanning over the paper in front of you. Fifteen items, nothing crazy. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour, tops, and that includes travel to and from the store. “I think I’ve got everything we need… And, specials included your beer, and those little frozen cream puffs.”
Beside you, Coco groans, deep and guttural. “Fuck, I love those things.”
You giggle, but keep reading. Your man is too damn cute. “Feminine products.”
“Do those count as special?” Coco genuinely sounds thoughtful, as he steps up behind you, where you are leaning over the counter top. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Kinda’ a necessity, ain’t they?”
Tipping your head, you glance to your husband. Seriously. This man is a treasure. “Why don’t you run for political office?” you tease, pleased when Coco chuckles.
“Yeah, my record’ll look great, on the campaign trail.”
You shrug. “You can tackle pink tax, and tax evasion, at the same time.”
Coco grins, and steals a peck off your lips. “What else you got on there, muñeca?”
“Hmmm, let’s see…” You turn back to your list, tapping the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. Spying the next item on it, you try not to let out another giggle. He’s not going to like this one. “Letty asked if we could have that cauliflower pizza thing for dinner, tonight.”
As expected, this groan is decidedly not from food lust. “Fuckin’ vegetarians. When the hell is she gonna’ get over this shit?”
“It’s just a phase, Coco,” you remind him, for the… Well, honestly, you’ve lost track. It started shortly after the wedding, Letty’s change in diet, and you’re still not convinced the two aren’t related. You’re just not entirely sure how. But, two months in, and she’s still looking healthy, so you won’t send up any alarms. “It’s very popular at her high school, right now.”
Coco scoffs, disgusted. “When the hell’d she start copyin’ other people, anyway? My girl ain’t no follower.”
The words send a shot straight to your heart. He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it. The love he has for Leticia is the greatest proof. They may carry on like cats and dogs, but when push comes to shove, there is nothing they won’t do for one another. My girl. It brings a warmth to your soul, and a smile to your lips.
You shake it off, enough to formulate a response. “She’s figuring out how to be her own woman. Trying new things.” You shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. You were Letty’s age, once, of course. And, a girl, to boot. Some things, Coco just won’t be able to understand. “It’s a process.” He hums, still disgruntled, but doesn’t push out another word. “You want anything else?” you ask, holding up your list. “I’ve gotta’ get going, before I run into the football widows.”
Before you can even take a step away, Coco tightens his arms around you. “You sure you gotta’ go, though?” he asks, leaning in to brush his lips against your neck. “With the house all to ourselves, like this?”
“If I don’t go,” you start, as Coco’s touches gain intent, becoming teasing kisses. Damn him. It feels nice, you won’t lie, but there are other things on your mind, right now. Priorities.
You’re just… having trouble remembering what they are.
Oh. Yeah. Shopping.
“If I don’t go, we won’t have anything for dinner.”
Another kiss, accompanied by a barely-there swipe of tongue. You shiver, and Coco moves his lips to your ear. “We can order in,” he whispers, breath so invitingly warm against your skin.
Oh, this asshole.
“And, what are we supposed to have for breakfast, tomorrow?” you try, again. “Half an Eggo, and a pack of Skittles?”
Coco cuddles you closer, again. “Ain’t you never heard about livin’ on love, baby?” Some of his smoothest work, that is. And, it’s almost convincing. Almost. You can imagine the afternoon ahead, if you give in. Your clothes will come off, and won’t be back on until the last second, before Letty walks back through the front door. By that time, you’ll be too tired to roll your ass off the bed, let alone go grocery shopping. And, you promised Letty you’d talk Coco into that cauliflower pizza.
“Great as that sounds,” you agree, preparing to capitalize on the truth. You ease yourself away from Coco’s stubborn hold, and give him one more smooch, just to soften the blow to come. “I don’t think Letty will appreciate the sentiment.”
A third groan. You must be going for a record. “C’mon, (y/n).” Oh, he’s whining. It’s so cute, it’s unreal. “We’ll find some place that delivers that rabbit food shit.”
Unfortunately for Coco, you’re already grabbing your bag. Lucky for you. You’re still two seconds from giving him what he wants. (He just doesn’t need to know so). “I’ll be back in a while.” God willing. “If you think of anything else, call my cell.” You rush out the front door, and don’t look back. If you see the look on your husband’s face, you know you’re as good as done.
*
Well, what the shit? Coco stares at the front door as it closes, you on the wrong fucking side of it. His arms are at his sides, palms turned toward the ceiling. That went so well. He kind of can’t believe you just walked away, like that. Left him alone, and wanting. In your big, empty house.
He probably should have volunteered to tag along, instead of just chasing you off.
Fuck.
Glancing around, Coco tries to find something to do. Something to clean, at the very least. But, that’s the trouble with having moved in with you, after the wedding, he supposes. Ain’t nothing to tidy up. Not that the three of you don’t have possessions. They’re all just in their proper places. Probably Leticia’s doing, in the end. He’d had a long talk with her, before the move, that she absolutely has to keep her shit where it belongs. Your house isn’t like their house. There aren’t burn marks in the carpet, or gouges in the coffee table. Dishes go in the damned dishwasher, not left to pile up on the counter, or in the sink. Beds get made. Laundry gets folded, and put away. No more wrinkled heaps in the clothes basket. So far, the kid’s been doing good. Real good.
Coco, though? He’s never felt so unnerved in his life.
It was different when he just visited. Spent a night or two, here or there. He’d almost felt at home, then, stupid as it sounds. At home, with the knowledge he wasn’t staying. But, now? Now, the reality has settled in, and he feels so-so… out of place. There’s so much he’s struggling to adjust to.
You have a purified water system installed under the sink, where Coco is used to buying bottled water.
You have a dining room, where Coco and Letty are used to eating on the couch.
You have an extended cable package, whatever the fuck that is.
You kind of have it all, here, certainly by comparison to what Coco is used to. The best of everything. Which really makes him wonder – not for the first time – what the hell you’re doing with a dirt-poor biker for a husband? You’ve had this conversation, on multiple occasions, and you’ve explained yourself, every time. But, this time… This time, you’re not around to give that speech. You’re not around to hold him, and kiss his face, and reassure him in a way that only you can. No, you’re at the grocery store, shopping for Coco, and his kid, which was apparently a better offer than staying home with him.
Oh, nope. Nope, he’s doing it, again. He can feel it. You love him, he reminds himself. You’ve got his ring on your finger, his last name, and – God-willing – his baby in your belly. By choice. All by choice.
Coco takes a deep breath, in. Lets it back out, slowly. Tries not to get sick, for all the nerves coming up to greet him. He wraps one arm around his own torso, free hand moving up to cover his mouth.
Fuck, he hopes you get back, soon.
*
You let out a deep sigh, as you park your car in the garage. Oh, it is so good to be home, at long-last. Talk about Old Home Week. You’d run into everyone, and his brother, at the grocery store. Shopping had taken nearly twice as long as you’d meant for it to, and you just know Coco must be losing his mind, by now. You hate to think about it, in such terms, but, sometimes… Well, sometimes, Coco reminds you of a new puppy. You can’t really leave him alone, without some kind of separation anxiety creeping up on him.
Ah, well. At least he isn’t ripping down the drapes, and shredding the couch cushions.
You blink. Well. That you know of.
Shaking your head, you climb out of the car, mentally preparing to unload armloads of bags. Maybe, if you really, really try, today will be the day you can finally get all twenty bags in, in one trip.
Right. And, shortly thereafter, you can have both forearms set, and casted. Be a real turn-on, in the bedroom.
You’ve managed to grab half a dozen bags, when the door to the mud room opens. “Hey, don’t grab too many!” Letty warns, as she comes hopping down the steps. “Let us help!”
Glancing up, you smile. For having had such a rough start, Letty can be a sweet girl. You know she gets that from her father. “Well, thank you,” you reply, resting a few, fabric handles onto her outstretched hands.
Letty grins, lowering her hands to her sides, before leaning in. “Did you talk him into it?” she whispers, conspiratorially.
You snicker, and whisper back, “He isn’t getting a choice. He’s outnumbered.”
“Yes!” Her hiss of victory is hardly subtle, catching Coco’s attention as he pokes his head out the door.
“You two plottin’ against me, again?”
“Yes,” you and Letty reply, in unison, leading you to erupt into a fit of giggles.
Coco is all grins. “’Course, you are.” He strides closer, he and Letty dancing around one another as she moves into the house. You lean into the car, and retrieve a few more bags. If Coco’s out here, he might as well assist. He’s peering into the car, once you stand back up, and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, (y/n)! You buy out the whole store, or what?”
“Hardly,” you reply, dryly. You hold up your hands, offering Coco the bags. “Here you go.”
“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” Thankfully, your hold on the bags is solid. Instead of grabbing the groceries, Coco’s hands are suddenly groping all over you. One hand is settled firmly at your ass, the other sliding into your hair, at the back of your head. He wastes no time diving in for a slow, deep kiss, and, damn, does his timing suck. He could have at least let you put the bags down, first. The contact makes you tingle, and has you regretting your decision not to stay home. Coco pulls back, after a few seconds, and hums. “Mm. Best delivery ever.”
You can’t help the small snort of amused laughter that leaves your throat. “Good try, Coco,” you praise, easing back far enough to offer him the bags, again. The look of disappointment on his face is just pitiful. “I’m not banging you in the garage.”
He has the grace to mock gasp. “I’d never!” It’s a crock, and you both know it. He looks too amused to be repentant, and you look too aware to be angry. You just raise your hands, slightly, in a third offer. Coco sighs. “All right. All right.” He takes the bags from your hands.
“Thank you.” You grab another load for yourself, rounding the open car door to follow Coco’s lead, into the house. One more trip for each of you, and you should have it covered. So much for only buying fifteen items.
Coco might be right about buying out the store.
*
Watching from the dining room, Coco has a good view of you and Letty unpacking the last of the groceries. Damn kid, she’d thrown him out, about ten minutes prior.
“Less groping, more helping, Coco,” Letty had warned him, after he’d tried to pin you against the sink.
It had been his last warning. Now, he’s been banished. Not the worst thing in the world, not really. Over the last few weeks, he’s really learned that there are some tasks he’s not so fond of. Pruning roses… Yeah, he’s pretty sure you’ll never let him do that, again. And, hey, nobody told him what to fill the bird feeder with. Unpacking groceries goes on that list, somewhere between line-drying laundry, and a streak-free mirror. He’s not sure why. Goodness knows, it makes him feel like a kid at Christmas, most times. Since being with you, though…
Since being with you, he feels like he’s taking advantage of something.
Yes, groceries are a strange place to let that feeling land, but he can’t help it. Coco’s been responsible for feeding himself since before he cares to remember. The only time anyone provided his meals was during deployment, and half that shit barely passed for edible. You, though… You keep the house stocked with more food than he’s seen anywhere, outside of a corner market. Letty always has options to take to school, and there’s a nutritious dinner on the table, almost every night. (Some nights, he actually does win the battle for delivery). If Coco goes on a run, you send him along with snacks for the road. And, yeah, he kinda’ likes that. He also likes the energy bars you picked out for him, last week. Something with cherries, and dark chocolate. He wonders, for a second, if you picked up any more. Come in handy during his mid-week trip outta’ town.
Coco blinks. Then, he does it again, just for good measure. That’s it. That’s what’s so fucking weird about this whole thing.
It’s you.
Okay, no, it’s not you, you. But, it’s you. It’s you, taking care of him. It’s you, seeing to his needs. Letty’s needs. It’s you, being his wife, his partner. It’s you, slotting into the place of role-model for his teenaged daughter. Welcoming them into your home. Not treating it like it’s your home. It’s you, being so fucking perfect for him, it’s taken his mind all this time to catch up with reality.
Coco doesn’t get perfect. Perfect doesn’t want him.
Except, now, it does.
Before he knows what he’s doing, Coco strides into the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for you to put the box of pasta in the cupboard. He just takes it from your hand, ignoring your confused look, as he tosses it onto the counter.
“Coco!” Letty admonishes, but it’s no use. He’s already lifting you off the floor, arms around your perfect backside. The kid gives a long-suffering sigh, he hears it, but pays it no mind.
Nothing – nothing – is going to keep him from holding you in his arms.
Your own arms go around Coco’s neck, and you smile down at him, surprise still lingering in your eyes. “Uhm… Hi, there.”
Coco grins. “Hey, muñeca.” Leaning up, he pecks you on the lips.
“Can I help you with something?” you ask, to which Coco shakes his head. Closes his eyes, as your fingers play in his hair.
“Nah. Got all I need.”
*
Pulling a package of mixed vegetables from the half-unpacked shopping bag, Letty rolls her eyes. You two… God, you’re gross. Coco always has his hands on you, no matter what you’re trying to do. It’s a wonder you don’t carry a damned fly swatter around. Actually, it’s a wonder you ever accomplish anything. He’s always smooching, and smiling, and snuggling at you. It’s disgusting. It’s pathetic.
It’s so damned cute, it’s sickening.
Really, Letty’s enjoying seeing Coco so happy. Like, genuinely happy. Not the false pride he carries around with his kutte. He’s more relaxed, nowadays. He drinks less, and he spends more time at home, both of which mean he’s not hanging around with those skanks at the clubhouse. He eats more, he’s healthier… Nothing to complain about, there.
And, hey, she has no complaints about you, either. You’re pretty cool, all-around. A woman who takes care of herself, and her family, and doesn’t bitch about either one. You’re not using Coco for money, or status, none of the shit she’s always been worried her father would fall into. There aren’t arguments, every night, not even between herself and Coco, as of late. No hostilities, nothing to avoid the house over. Just good dinners, and movies, and a new fish tank in her room. (Okay, so, you’d earned some major points with that birthday gift. She hadn’t actually expected to get one, when she’d mentioned it). For the first time, she understands what a peaceful, happy family feels like. It feels nice. It feels like home.
Glancing back to where Coco now has you perched on the counter top, stealing the most syrupy-sweet smooches… Letty can’t help but smile. Home is A-okay by her.
*
The sound of the air conditioner humming in the bedroom usually lulls you right to sleep. Tonight, it’s just providing you with white noise, a low background track to your thoughts. You don’t mind, not really. It gives you a few minutes to reflect on the day that’s just ended. To plan your day, tomorrow. To weave your fingers through Coco’s hair, and listen to him breathe. That, alone, makes it worthwhile.
Coco has been asleep against your shoulder for nearly an hour, now. Your arms are wrapped around him, comfortably, his own around your waist. You’d urged him up to bed, after he’d fallen asleep on the couch, his head in your lap. He’d snoozed from the middle of the movie, to the end of the nightly news report. Letty had tsked, and complained that no one had any business, whatsoever, in falling asleep during Zombieland. (How he’d stayed asleep was still a wonder to you, both, for how hard you’d been laughing at Tallahassee). With your fingers in his hair, Coco had been blissfully unaware for a couple of hours.
Glancing down, you take in the sight of your husband’s sleeping face. He looks so damn peaceful, the kind you’d outright murder to preserve for him. Coco’s still struggling with sleep, and relaxation, even though you’d hoped it would ease up, once your nuptials had passed. Most of it, you know will never go away. Anxiety doesn’t have a magic wand, or some perfect little on/off switch. And, all things considered, today wasn’t a terrible day. You’d been able to leave the house, with minimal panic on Coco’s part. Granted, it had taken extra time to get the groceries put away, and dinner made, but… You understand, as much as you are able to, that Coco needs the reassurances. It doesn’t cost you anything to carve a few moments from the day, every here and there, to give him what he needs.
Okay, so it did cost you that first batch of pancakes, this morning. They’d burned on the stove, and set off the smoke alarms, when he’d insisted on a dance through the living room. But, Coco loved the song you’d been playing on your Spotify, so there was really no denying him.
Oh, and… Yeah, you’d missed that phone call from the bank, the week before. Your husband had slipped up next to you, on the porch swing, and snuggled you to within an inch of your life. An easy fix, and you still got the business loan, but…
And, sure, you’ve been late to work, on numerous occasions. Coco has a habit of sneaking into your morning shower. And, after that… Well, hell, you own the company. It’s not like you have to explain to the boss that you’re late to your shift, on account of baby-dancing. (Fucking forums).
Point is, you’re more than happy to take care of Coco’s emotional needs. It may take you an extra hour to pay your bills. Daily tidying may have become every-other-day-if-you’re-lucky tidying. And, your ass may have gone numb, tonight, while he slept on your thigh. During which time, you could have loaded the dishwasher. Taken out the trash. Any number of tasks that have been neglected, in the name of Coco. They can wait.
Leaning in, you press a tender kiss to your husband’s forehead, before settling back in, and closing your eyes. Yes, chores can wait. Work can wait. The whole world can hold it, with both hands. So long as you’re around, Coco’s well-being will never have to take the back seat.
*
P.S. If Coco denies it, he’s full of it. He fucking loved that cauliflower pizza. Fucking vegetarians, indeed.
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tootiredmotel · 3 years
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For @one-more-offbeat-anthem 's 1k follower celebration. The prompt was "sickfics" and I've never written a sickfic in my life so, naturally, I adapted a scene from one of my comfort movies (Fever Pitch, 2005). HUGE congrats on your milestone love!!!
read on ao3 or below (1.5k words)
Castiel should've known better than to listen to his brother regarding food. They have wildly different palates, and why he agreed to accompany Gabriel to lunch at some newly-opened new-age restaurant with barely any reviews, he'll never know. He wasn't thinking.
He could think even less that night, hunched over the toilet with food poisoning while his date knocked on his apartment door.
As soon as he could, Castiel scrambled to his feet and wobbled over to open it, his over-excitable golden retriever on his heels. Dean stood there in a nice leather jacket, all dapper and first-date-ready with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and it broke Castiel's heart to have to tell him:
"I'm sick."
He was sure it was evident in his eyes, death breath, hair sticking out in all directions from holding his head above the toilet, but he said it anyway.
"I'm really sick, I'm sorry. Come back tomorrow."
Castiel went to close the door, but Dean took a cautious step, bouquet forgotten at his side. "Sick how? You in pain? Do you need anything?"
"I just-" Castiel swallowed forcefully. "I ate at this new restaurant and-"
Just thinking about it made him run to the bathroom again, and he almost didn't make it on time. He barely registered Dean, still at the doorway, say something about Castiel (Cas, he called him) not needing to fake it if he didn't want to go out with him. A few seconds later, the door closed, and Castiel (still puking) thought that was that. He blew it with the handsome schoolteacher, all thanks to his brother's awful culinary taste.
His dog's wasn't so far behind. "Honey, please don't eat that," he reprimanded her, failing to shoo her out of the bathroom.
When he felt he was done, for the time being at least, he tried to stand. He was weak, and for a second he thought he might split his head open on the toilet seat, but then Dean was there, hands on his waist, helping him up. "I got you," said Dean, over and over again, and Castiel believed him.
Dean helped him to his bed where he tried to sit him down, but Castiel must've been weaker than he thought. He flopped backward, and then Dean cautiously lifted his head and placed a pillow underneath.
"Thank you."
"Got some more comfortable clothes? Something to sleep in?"
It's then Cas remembered he was already dressed for the date, slacks and a white button-up (probably grossly stained, he hated to think), and pointed Dean to a drawer.
A second later Dean was gently hoisting him back to his feet, strong hands at his sides, saying "Here, I'll help you change. Promise I won't look. Too much, I won't look too much."
And that actually made Castiel chuckle.
Dean unbuckled and took off his slacks first, replacing them with sweatpants. It was a slow, quiet process, and Dean only spoke up after he'd taken off Castiel's tie and shirt. "Alright, I gotta be honest, I'm looking. Sorry, Cas."
Cas couldn't help another chuckle. Dean was incredibly respectful through it all, careful not to touch any skin unless he had to, which was mostly to keep Cas from falling over. He slipped a t-shirt onto him and laid Cas back down on the bed, this time with his head where it was supposed to be. That's when things started to blur, when his head hit the pillow.
"I don't think there's anything left in there, but just in case..."
Cas, through hazy vision, noticed Dean putting his empty hamper next to the bed. He thanked him, repeatedly. Cas isn't sure how many times he said it, over and over again, thank you.
"Hey, no, you just get some rest," was the last thing Cas heard Dean say before he was out like a light.
Cas suspects he briefly regained consciousness three times during that night.
The first time, he's sure of. He felt a hand on his shoulder, slowly coaxing him awake. "Here," Dean said softly, placing a bottle of Gatorade with a straw in it on the nightstand. "Drink this if you can, alright? Get your strength back." Cas nodded and fell back asleep.
The second time was more questionable, and he only knows it was real because he saw the results of it in the morning. He slowly awoke on his own and saw Dean in his bathroom across from his bedroom door, wearing rubber gloves and scrubbing away at the toilet with a sponge. Cas tried to stop him, tell him no, please, you don't have to do that, really, but couldn't help sleep drag him back down before he could get the words out.
The third time is the most unbelievable. Borderline fantastical. If it was real, he might just have to marry this guy.
Cas thinks he saw Dean brushing Honey's teeth.
Out of everything that happened the night before, that is all he can think about as he steps out of the shower in the morning. He plans to call Dean, send a fruit basket to his school, invite him on the best date of his life to repay him for all he did, and ask him. It's going to sound ridiculous, did you brush my dog's teeth or did I hallucinate that, and Dean will probably turn down his invite. If not for the hell he went through that night, then for Cas being insane.
And then Cas finds Dean asleep on his couch, Honey snuggled into his side. And yeah, he's probably going to marry this guy. This schoolteacher who happened to pick him and his office as a field trip destination for his math kids. This adorable guy that came back later that same day, thanked him for getting through to the kids (which Cas didn't think he had, but he digresses), and then asked him out. This unbelievably sweet guy that Cas initially rejected, god knows why, but then called at his school and left a message for, Saturday at seven, here's my address, because he couldn't get him off his mind. This caring, thoughtful, heaven-sent guy who showed up with flowers, now in a vase on his dining table, found Cas with food poisoning and proceeded to take care of him, his dog, and his apartment the rest of the night.
Before Cas can think about marrying him again (which he was going to, the hopeless romantic), Honey startles and jumps off the couch, waking Dean. Cas doesn't move, just watches as Dean sits up, notices him, then sits up straighter.
"Hey! Hey, how you feeling?" Dean asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. He put products in his hair for the date, Cas notices, because it's now stiffly and adorably messed up.
"Much better. I won't be entering any pie-eating contests any time soon, though."
"Too bad. That was my next date idea."
Cas smiles, the words next date making his heart flutter in his ribcage. His question pops back into his mind.
"Did you, um..." Don't ask about the dog, he'll think you're crazy. He decides to go with "Did you clean my bathroom last night?" even though he knows the answer.
"Me? No."
Well. Cas thought he knew the answer. Probably dreamed it too. But then who-
"The vomit elves came in," Dean continues. "Real cute. Little hats, miniature vomit bags, adorable. Efficient too."
Cas is stuck somewhere between smiling so wide his cheeks hurt, and shaking his head while rolling his eyes. "Did the elves brush Honey's teeth too?"
"Oh no, that one was me."
And that has Cas laughing in earnest. At the sound of her name, Honey came bouncing back, settling next to Dean on the couch.
"Not letting the little bastards take credit for that one. This sweetheart loves me, and I earned that myself," Dean says, scratching Honey between her ears, enraptured.
"Dean, thank you." At that, Dean looks up. "Thank you. You could've just left, but you chose to stay. And you went above and beyond. Thank you."
Dean looks away and stands, trying to play it off with a wave of his hand. "Nah, it was nothing."
"It was everything," Cas says stepping forward, placing a beckoning hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean finally looks at him with a barely-there smile and a gaze that wants to escape, but he fights for it to stay on Castiel's face. Cas is glad he does, because he needs Dean to see, understand, how grateful he is.
"I uh... I got you these." Dean reaches for a paper bag on the coffee table, and that's when Cas takes his hand off his shoulder. "Some movies."
"Such as?"
"Mostly anime porn," Dean says, and Cas is doing it again, the chuckling/eye roll/head shake combo. "And some stuff I like to watch when I'm not doing great."
"Well, for me that would be documentaries."
"Wait." Dean blinks. "What? What did you say?"
"Documentaries. Preferably environmental, or perhaps historical in nature."
"No way, you're not gonna believe this," Dean says, a bit too much surprise on his face. "This is insane dude, check this out..."
He reaches into the bag, and Cas half believes he's about to pull out a copy of Disney's Earth. He's delighted to be wrong.
"Roadhouse."
Cas laughs again, and the beaming smile on Dean's face is what convinces him. He is definitely going to marry this guy.
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achillieus · 3 years
Text
let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)
summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.
(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)
pairing: sebastian stan x reader
warnings: alcohol, heavy sexual references, implied depression, infidelity, this one is very angsty, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, this part is not my favorite but it also is
part: 4/6
(other parts)  (masterlist)
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When you both go to sleep that night,
What you say to yourselves:
It is just a kiss.
The truth:
Sebastian can’t forget your scent and your taste. And it’s everywhere. And it’s everything. He’s not sure if he can breathe anymore. He tries to put himself together but he loses; he lets a moan escape his quivering lips, as he comes hard, alone in bed, your lips a picture in his head.
You can’t forget his warmth. He’s long gone but his heat is making your body sweat. And it’s becoming annoyingly addictive. You try to fall into a dreamless sleep but you can’t. You grab onto your sheets, trying to shallow down his name when you have two fingers inside you.
It’s a study in remorse and guilt.
/
“Please breath,” you whisper in front of the bathroom mirror. “Breath in. And out.”
It’s been two days and one night since the doomed night. You have not heard of him ever since.
Your heart beats with the power of war tambours. You want to find him and tell him you’re sorry. You want to promise you don’t mean to cause any trouble to him. You want to let him know you don’t belong in his life. He will pass through you like cars pass red lights.
Violently.
“I’ll find him tomorrow.” You lie down and rest. “I’ll tell him everything tomorrow.”
/
Argyris can see the disorder reflecting in Sebastian’s eyes the second they pass in front of your door.
The Romanian drops his eyes on the floor and quickens his pace. Argyris is smart enough to not comment on it; at least not when they have an all night shooting in a while. He doesn’t want to distress him.
He doesn’t have a choice though; because Sebastian stops as soon as they reach the third floor.
“I’ve made such a mess.”  His voice can’t give away how nauseous he feels.
Argyris exhales loudly. This is precisely what he was afraid of. This is precisely what he had warn you both about.
“It’s not the right time” he starts quietly “We have a lot to do.”
Sebastian sighs.
He feels as though there will never be a right time for the two of you.
/
You can’t sleep. The sky is dark behind your closed windows. It’s almost four in the morning and everything around you is quiet; until it’s not anymore.
You can hear people laughing as they enter the building and you can hear the lady from the first floor yelling at them.
Suddenly you’re thankful for the terrible insulation as the whole place grows alive at the sound of noise. You’ve grown tired of silence.
You slowly open your door. You want to hear more.
Argyris is trying to apologize when the old woman starts calling them uncivil. You want to laugh.
But then you hear steps coming closer and, in a breath, he’s standing right in front of you.
“Did we wake you up?”
The others are still arguing in the lobby.
No, I couldn’t sleep, too busy thinking of your lips.
“Yes. All the noise scared me.”
He comes closer. He tries to clear his head of images he creates at night. Images with you.
“I’m sorry.” He says and it sounds like his chest feels lighter afterwards “I’m sorry for the noise.”
You nod, a blank expression across your face.
“We went for a few drinks after the shooting and people got drunk and dragged themselves hear to continue the party. It’s not Argyris’ fault.”
You turn your head away from him. You don’t dare to look at him for a long time.
“I can bet that.” Your words feel heavy inside your mouth. “He has never caused any trouble before you came.” Your words feel bitter inside your mouth.
He laughs. He calls your name. It makes your throat dry.
“You can see that I’m not the one who’s drunk and arguing downstairs.”
The space between you two starts to dwindle.
“You should go.” You whisper. “There is no reason for you to be here.”
He says nothing for a while. He just stays there looking at you with an unreadable expression. His breathing hits your face. It feels cold.
“Right.” He answers, building his guard back up, posture fixed and face blank.
And then with one last glance he leaves you alone.
/
You wake up not much later, the sun meeting the horizon.
You clean the kitchen and you water your flowers. You decide to take a walk. You haven’t done that in a very long time.
Not a lot of people are awake at that time. The streets are almost empty. You find that comforting. You pass the familiar streets and there’s a heady feeling in the air; the mouthwatering smell of fresh bread in the small bakery, the sound of a dog barking and an old man carrying around a barrel organ.
Lately you seem to forget how much beauty there’s around. Lately you seem think true beauty is only a pair of light eyes and the sound of a foreign accent. You feel selfish; your ardor for him has blinded you and everything seems too little.
You feel stupid.
/
And then you blink and it’s Sunday and you remember Argyris telling you they’re leaving on Monday to shoot scenes in some islands. You can’t decide if you want them to leave sooner or never at all.
The latter makes you forget to breath.
You take a shower. But water never washes tears completely away. They stick to your body and your pores like leeches.
The white towel feels rugged against your skin and you think of throwing it in the trash can. You don’t.
Instead, you get dressed and make a sandwich for dinner.
A knock at your door stops you.
You’ve missed that sound.
You close your eyes.
You feel as if you’re being thrown back in time, to the first time he came at your doorstep.
There’s another knock.
Maybe it’s not him. You take a step. Even if it’s him, it’s a dead end. You place your fingers around the handle, without making any motion to unlock.
You stand there for some seconds. There’s no more knocking. You smile at yourself. You were always good at hiding behind closed doors. Maybe not good enough; because now you can hear him talk.
“I’m glad you’re not here” his voice makes it sound like he’s aching “Or that you’re here and don’t want to open up.”
Your hand swifts around the knob.
“I’m glad, because if I was looking at you right now I would-”
He stops when he meets your gaze. You’re close now. And it’s hard not to wrap your arms around him, but you force yourself to just look straight ahead and do nothing.
“You would what?” You voice sounds like a mourning song.
You watch as he runs his fingers through his hair and lets a quite sigh.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
He laughs and it’s dry and sharp. And then he grabs you by the shoulder and you’re both inside your apartment and he closes the door with a shudder.
His eyes are swollen and for a moment you’re scared. Only for a moment.
“Yes I am.” He still has his arm around your shoulder. “What do you want me to say? That I would do everything? That I would kiss even your eyelids?”
You’re shivering. You feel almost sick.
“I can’t say any of those things.” He swallows hard around the lump in his throat.
You look at him starry-eyed. 
“You can.” You’re stepping closer to him. “You can say everything. There’s no one here. Just us.”
“That’s not enough.”  He says, with a look that promises all the sorrow and the suffering in the universe.
Your face splits.
“Then why did you come?”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
“We’re leaving tomorrow.”
I know, you almost say. But he talks again, before you can say anything.
“I want you to come with us.”
You feel like choking on the world’s most expensive rosé. You start coughing.
He caresses your forehead, tucking some hair behind your ears.
“No, Sebastian, this is bad.”
His fingers can feel a tear dripping down your eyes and your cheeks and your lips. Slowly. He’s not certain if it’s yours or his.
“I know.” He blinks. “But we don’t have much time. And I want to be around you. We can try to be friends again.”
There's a feeling in your stomach that makes you want to throw up when he says the word friends. It makes your mouth taste sour. It's pathetic.
“I don’t know if I can do that.” You murmur.
And then his eyes pierce through yours.
And you think of that evening that you saw his eyes for the very first time. And you think how this version of events had never crossed your mind back then. Ever.
This was not supposed to happen.
You were not supposed to grow close to him.
And he was not supposed to show you the stars and dry out your salty tears.
And you were not supposed to kiss him.
And now he was not supposed to go.
“Please, promise me you’ll try to be friends with me.” He breaths into your lungs. “Promise me you’ll come.”
You smile softly. It reminds him of something sweet, like honey and cherries.
“I can try.”
Sebastian can feel his heart almost stop; like a clock that’s reminding him you do not have much time left together. This month will come and go and so will he.
And his heart knows.
So, he presses his forehead against yours and mumbles a sincere thank you.
It sounds poetic. But it’s more of a war declaration.
/
When you agreed to go with him on the trip, Sebastian fell into a world of bliss and anticipation. He had been worried you wouldn’t want to see him again after everything that occurred between you two. He had spent nights sleepless, just lying awake and trying to fathom things.
But not tonight. Tonight, he’s packing his bags and dreaming of the sea and you.
The sea. And you. Those are the things he loves most right now.
Love. It’s funny because sometimes Sebastian thinks he could have fallen in love with you, if only time allowed. But he has less than two months. He has calculated everything.
( 60 days )
( 59 nights )
He’ll probably never see you again afterwards.
He knows you were never meant to be.
He sighs.
The screen of his phone lights up and he’s certain it’s his girlfriend, because it’s 3am in Greece. Who else could it be? And that gives him an ache because he loves his girlfriend. But not right now.
He’s wrong though, it’s a message from you.
I’m sorry. I can’t come with you tomorrow. I’m sorry.
His heart falls.
It’s funny because sometimes Sebastian thinks he could have fallen in love with you, if only you allowed. Sometimes he thinks it’s better this way.
/
You read your message again and again. Your eyes scan each world like your whole life depends on them. You can’t go to the trip. It’d be like you set yourself up only to fall apart some time later. And you’d have no excuse. You don’t even know why you had said yes to him in the first place.
Perhaps because that’s what Sebastian wanted to hear and you love Sebastian. It’s very painful and all kinds of fucked up, but you do.
At first you try to close your eyes to it. You think, whatever it is between you, it’s not love. It must be something else.
But it’s not.
You always knew that.
Your heart splits at the realization.
/
Everyone is drinking and dancing. They finished shooting last night and Argyris decided to throw a small beach party. Once upon a time, Sebastian would have been thrilled about it. He always loved partying.
But those were the old days. All he can think about now, is a girl with braided hair and nails painted dark blue. That’s how you looked the last time he saw you.
It’s been a week since that time. It’s been a week and he’s getting desperate. And his curly haired co-star is moving her body too close for his liking. He’s trying to flee.
The woman smiles at him. He knows she probably asks for more than he can give. She smiles at him and she looks beautiful, so beautiful. He almost thinks it’s unfair and selfish of him to ignore such a beautiful smile.
But the woman’s hair is curly and not in a braid. And her nails are painted red instead of dark blue.
/
You don’t see him for one more week. You want to send him a message. Call him. Do something. You do nothing but check his Instagram profile almost every hour. It’s sort of becomes a habit.
At your room the walls whisper and scream about that night you fell asleep next to each other. You try not to listen.
Some nights you can picture him smiling at you and his smile feels far too heavy. Some nights you try to imagine a version of him that could grow old with you.
You can’t.
/
It’s 8:10 am. The first time you meet again. You call the elevator on your floor and when the door opens, he’s there. You didn’t even know he was back, before now. You almost get out and take the stairs instead. You hide yourself at the corner as far from him as possible. Sebastian notices for the first time how small you look.
“When did you come back?” Your mouth opens before you can stop it.
He turns to look at you. You can see he has a little tan. It looks great on him. Dammit.
“Last night.”
Your hands are shaking. You’ve missed his voice. Dammit.
Two more floors. You can make it.
You wait for him to turn his back at you again, but he doesn’t.
“Not coming with me,” his breathing breaks and his throat dries out instantly and he feels on the verge of collapsing “It didn’t help.”
It takes you a while to get what he’s saying. Why he’s saying it.
The elevator stops.
“Did it help you?” No, of course not.  
“Sebastian, please.”
You try to say something more but his voice stops you.
“Do you know any quiet places?”
You nod.
“Take me.” You shiver. “Please.”
The door opens and he grabs your hand.
You think you’ll never really understand Sebastian. He’s been so many people with you. A pretty face on screen, a stranger and then a friend. And then a lover? Maybe.
Something intimate, anyway.
Intimate, in the way pain is.
/
You’re at a small park just behind your house.
His hair has grown the last few days and he’s playing with a strand. You watch him and he watches back. He puts one hand in the pocket of his jeans and another at your cheek.
You had almost forgotten how it feels. Soft and rugged simultaneously. Almost like a transfusion, it revives you.
“We’ve screwed up, haven’t we?” His voice sounds like an old song.
You think you can hear your bones straining under the weight of his words.
“Yes, I guess we have.” You try to smile at him. Your lips don’t move upwards though. They can’t. You can feel your eyes get wet.
Sebastian can’t bear looking at you like that. He puts his hand behind your neck and brings you closer.
At that moment, by falling into his arms, you lost the battle.
Your body is cold, worn down by all the sleepless nights. You’re not sure he knows exactly what you feel at this moment. Neither do you.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the trip.”
“I understand.” He nods.
“Sebastian,” His breath hitches when you call his name. “I don’t know if I want to see you again.”
Lies.
He blinks. You don’t.
His face looks like he’s about to growl. Then his features relax.
A tear falls down your cheek and he’s quick to swipe it away. His eyes soften.
“I know,” he says in a whisper “We just keep hurting each other.”
You laugh bitterly. “When did I hurt you, Sebastian?” You push his hands away from your body. He doesn’t fight it.
He lets out a shaky breath.
“We spent the night together and you left without even saying something.” Your eyes are wide and rabid. “You keep acting like we’re something special and you have a girlfriend back home. And when I kissed you,” you pause for a second, remembering everything. “You kissed me back.”
You’re talking a little too loud. An old man passing by, turns to look your way. Your cheeks flash red.
“I wanted you to kiss me.” Your heart clenches. “I’m so sorry. I needed you to kiss me.”
He takes your hands in his. He looks at you half like he wants to apologize, half like he wants to kiss you again. Maybe, he does.
“Every time I see you, I want you to kiss me.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth.” Surprisingly his voice is steady and his hands grab yours tighter than before.
“It can’t be the truth.” You exhale roughly. “It will ruin everything.”
He looks at you for a while and then he does the most human thing possible; he wraps his arms around you. You hide your face at the crook of his neck.
Your breath hits his skin and it’s warm and tender.
“Not us.” He whispers in your hair. “It will save us.”
At that moment, Sebastian lost every battle.
/
Things you felt when Sebastian kissed you later that evening:
Divinity and tragedy. The feeling of going over the speed limit. The despair in his mouth. The booming in his heart. Fear for the distant future. His arms creating a shelter from the rest of the world. Affection. And affection. And affection.
Thing Sebastian felt when he kissed you later that evening:
Your heartache in his hands. The faded cherry lip balm in your lips. Your nails digging into his skin. A raw satisfaction. Madness and power. Your warmth making his heart beat fast. Freedom. And love, so much love.
/
It was never his intention to cheat on his girlfriend. Sebastian is not that kind of man. But then again, everyone is.
You try not to think about that while his mouth devours the skin above your collarbones. It makes your pores sweat and your core beat. Time spins by as you both lay on your bed.
It feels like he’s a sweet lover. Dewy eyes and warm fingertips. He makes love to you at sunset, when dreams start to form and cotton sheets stick to his skin. Yearning gets the best of him, his movements become sharper, his bones turn to steel.
You don’t mind. That’s what you need right now. Burning lips at the curve of your hips. You can almost taste it; the silage of his after shave. Eucalyptus. That’s what he tastes like.
/
He’s drawing archways in your skin. He touches the part between your breasts. Softly and gently at first. And then digging his teeth. He wonders if you want this as much as he does. It’s nearly tearing him apart. His ribs and his lungs are full of eagerness and you.
You, you, you.
To him, there’s nothing to do but kiss every inch of your body.
He knows there’ll be a cacophony soon. You’re both equipped with love that has an expiration date. But he wants to beat time. He wants to feel all of this for as long possible. For a minute, he becomes greedy. He wishes everyone would die, so that he and you could live in this world alone. But together.
It takes great strength to shake this thought out of his head.
“Please,” You say between heavy breaths and he's getting worried he's going to tell you he loves you. “Please I need you Seb.”
You've never called him that before. He can't decide if he likes that or the fact that you need him, more. He complies.
You feel him inside you as he's stroking between your thighs. You close your eyes, his heated sounds soothing everything. Your lips are red, from you biting at them.
He looks at you, with his hungry face and he finds everything about you so delicate and so beautiful.
He can keep going forever.
You're grateful.
/
Lying naked in your bed, you’re watching him struggle to keep his fevered blue eyes open. His hands still tangled in your hair.
The room smells of sweat and eucalyptus and everything in the universe feels softer.
“I think I love you.” He says, and as he falls asleep, he smiles. “I’ll tell you when I’m sure.”
“Please don’t.” That’s the most selfless you’ll ever be in your life.
/
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