#will probably start working on these on thursday night or friday only btw

[impalakiing]

i don't think i've ever posted one of these on this blog before?? so yes, the time has come for me to do it lol. you know the drill, hit the heart to have dean thrown your way. lengths & verses will vary !!

[vvatchword]

In Which I Am Accosted by an Angel

So as y’all know, I am currently suffering from severe lock-up (Brain Tetanus?) derived from a cocktail of ADHD, anxiety, and depression. On Wednesday evening, I was starting to feel optimistic about my abilities to defeat Brain Tetanus, so I left my laptop at work. Thus, when Thursday rolled around and I locked up anyway, my ability to PERFORM said work was now completely gone: it meant going somewhere and I could barely move. On Friday, I realized I should go get my laptop so I could at least attempt work over the weekend. Friday became an entire day of me struggling toward the front door.

I finally left the apartment around 9:00.

Now, on one hand, I got to see my city at night, which I rarely do, being a mole person. I also got to see the night life on my street, which I found fascinating (all college kids. It felt weird. Like look at all these babies. Where are my olds at).

Retrieved my laptop. Masked up. Got back on the bus. Success. Easy peasy.

At first, there were plenty of kids on the bus with me as well as a handful of blue-collar workers. Homeless people were rolling on and off the bus the entire way. Eventually, it became only homeless people and me.

Well, I had decided to reward myself with orange soda for going through the whole rigamarole of reclaiming my Macbook, so instead of heading home, I crossed the street to the nearby gas station. I noticed that two of the homeless people were crossing the street with me. Didn’t really give it a lot of thought; they gave me a wide berth. I gave them a light smile when they looked that way. I was wearing my noise-canceling headset because traffic be LOUD bitches, but no music was playing.

Do you see where I, the narrator, went very fucking wrong? How and why?

So I headed up toward the gas station. Started noticing that, um, the two homeless people were... also going to the gas station?

So I stopped to get my wallet out of my bag and both of them stopped, too.

Oh, dear jesus. what have I done

I pick up my bag again and head inside. One of the homeless guys is a little Latino man, probably ten years my senior. Has two backpacks, one on each shoulder. He gives me a huge smile and frankly, I kinda liked him. Thanked him for opening the door for me. Headed toward the Fruity Sugar Drink section. Decided to try three different varieties of orange soda to see which one I liked best (it’s Crush btw). 

Little Latino Man (LLM) was like, “You like that fruit juice huh baby?”

“Yeah,” I said, pretending not to be nervous as fuck. “Gonna try some different ones!” Haha! Smiling! I’m so nice! Don’t shoot me!

I head up to the front counter. The clerk is not behind the counter, but in front of it, and he’s looking at the other homeless guy.

“Get outta here,” he said.

Apparently, the man was a known troublemaker who’s always stealing snacks. He got chased out of the store.

“I thought he was following you,” said LLM.

“Well, thanks for looking out for me,” I said cheerily. (Please don’t be weird. Please don’t be weird. Please don’t be weird)

(Spoiler: He was weird)

At first, LLM tries to buy my drinks for me, but I was like, “No. No that’s okay.” Clerk actually listened to me. Now in retrospect I realize he was looking out for me--giving me this intense look like, “Are you okay?”

And I was just... not really cognizant of just how badly off I was. Because you know, I’m used to being super chipper to everyone I meet. I should have stayed there in the gas station. But instead, I went ahead and headed toward the door...

and LLM followed me.

Now I didn’t really think too much about it at first; there’s a homeless encampment under the overpass near where I live, and several notable homeless aid organizations nearby. I try to be nice to the homeless whenever I can and haven’t had trouble with any of them at all up to this point.

LLM immediately strikes up a conversation.

“Do you live in the apartments down here?”

“Uh... lots of apartments down here, yeah,” I said.

“Do you live alone?”

motherfucker what

“No, you can’t afford to do that down here,” I said.

But I’m a bad fucking liar and I think the guy knew I was lying.

“I’m looking for a roommate,” he said. “I have a million-dollar settlement coming in.”

“Oh, that’s great,” I said. “You won’t have to worry about rent at all with that.”

“Man, when I moved here my car got stolen in the first two weeks!”

“That’s too bad! I’m sorry.”

“My name’s Angel because I’m an angel,” he said, flinging his hand out. “How about you?”

“Ann,” I said, giving him a light shake. His hand was cold and dirty and he let go of mine almost immediately.

So I ended up walking past my apartment, thinking: Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. It’s dark down this way. Fuck. But if I turn around he’ll get suspicious. Fuck. 

Now when I think about it, I wish I had gone back toward the convenience store, but at the time, I was like, how can I do this so that I extricate myself without getting the guy suspicious? Because I just want to fucking go home.

“I died last year and came back,” he said. “Did you know that this is heaven?”

“Uh... no, I didn’t. Why is it heaven?”

“Because we’re alive,” he said. “We’re here living, and breathing, and partying, and fucking. When we go to heaven it’s just...” He pointed at his head. “This.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“I’m not fully human, you know? When you go through heaven, it goes through you. My soul is one half god and one half angel,” he said. “Because when you die, you become an angel. God is three in one: he’s a man, an eagle, and an alien. In the beginning, the universe started with aliens, but then they became knowledgeable of god and became man. When people say, ‘The aliens are going to destroy us!’, they’re wrong. The aliens want to be us.”

“Oh, that explains why they do what they do.”

“Yep. Did you know you can see faces in plants?”

“What, really?”

“Yes. They are the spirits of the fallen. They fell to earth and hid inside the plants. I can make them show themselves.”

“No shit!”

I won’t lie, about this point I was kinda into it, like, fuck yeah, show me the angel trees.

We stopped under a streetlamp. He paused, gathered himself, and pointed at the trees across from us.

“Show yourselves,” he said.

A pause.

Yep Those Are Trees.jpg

“One, two... three... ten...” He starts waving around, encompassing the trees with a finger. “You can see them. About twenty faces. Do you see them?”

“Can you point them out to me?”

“See... right there, in that bit of shadow? Two eyes, a face?”

“Yes,” I said, lying out my ass.

“Now, when the leaves are all rustling together, they’re talking. But when the trees are shaking in the wind, they’re having sex.”

“Oh, gee,” I said, because I desperately needed to not talk about sex with this man.

He then said that he didn't experience any of this until he came back to life, that even on meth he never experienced it.

“When I came back, first thing I saw was a panda come out of the earth,” he said.

“Wait, a panda? That sounds a little terrifying.”

“Yeah, just a panda face. And I said, ‘Pandas don’t live in this climate!’ And then it turned into a bear!”

“Like a brown bear?”

"Yeah. And then it turned into a little green alien woman!"

"Holy shit!"

"It was a female. You know how I knew? I couldn't see her bottom or nothing. It was her eyes. I looked into her eyes and I could see she was a woman."

She was like, three feet tall apparently. Anyway, he blinked at her three times and she loved that shit because three is the number of the trinity.

Well, friends, by that time I had gotten to my target: the In-and-Out Burger. And thank you JESUS that place was full of people and bright as god.

“I’ll go get us a seat,” he said, and went.

And that was the time I fucking VAMOOSED my brothers in christ. That was the time I sprinted out the door, across a busy street, down to the darkest avenues I could find that would lead me home. About halfway there I realized that I could be seen for a long stretch and this would be a problem since most likely if the guy followed me he’d take the way we went.

Usually while in public I pretend to be Lawful Good so when I say it meant something when I jaywalked everywhere and galumphed over a flowerbed, looking for dark spots to secrete myself like some kind of budget ninja, I hope you understand.

Anyway, I was pretty sick to my stomach after all that, but at least the adrenaline unlocked my ability to cook soup.

Unfortunately, I am back to Brain Tetanus as usual, but at least I am not dead.

[marveloussupernerd]

Packing - TsukiYama

Hello ! Midterms finally ended and I am just: suffering. But I wanted to put something out and this came into my brain the other day

Warnings: Tsukki swears bc it’s Tsukki

Summary: Tsukishima & Yamaguchi have a fight. Swear it isn’t too much angst and you won’t be like depressed by the end (this takes place in the future btw)

“Tsukki, I’m home!” Yamaguchi yelled as he walked through the front door, shutting it behind him and slipping off his jacket to hang it in the closet.

Tsukki bounded down the stairs of their shared home to meet his fiancée at the door. “Missed you.” He pulled Yams into a hug. “How was your day at work?”

“Eh,” He shrugged. “It was fine. It wasn’t the best Thursday I’ve ever had.” His eyes lit up. “Hey! Do you have any plans this weekend? Practices or work meetings or anything?”

Tsukki paused to think. “Believe it or not, I’m actually completely free. Why? Hinata wants to go on another double date?”

Yamaguchi rolled his eyes, pushing the taller man playfully. “Noooo. I just wanted to spend time with you. Without having to be stressed about anything.”

“Not even wedding planning?”

Yamaguchi motioned that he was zipping his lips. “I won’t even say a thing about wedding planning this weekend. Just some chill time for us. I think it’ll be nice.”

“Does sound nice.”

Yamaguchi tilted his head up slightly to kiss his fiancée on the lips, then bounded up the stairs, calling “I’m gonna get changed real quick!” as he did so. All Tsukki could do was shake his head and laugh at how cute he was.

Yamaguchi took off his dress clothes, absolutely wiped out and more than happy to get out of the itchy collar of his shirt. He went to throw the shirt into the hamper, only to see it still missing. “Tsukki!” He called. “Did you get the clothes washed today?”

“Huh?” His fiancée called back from downstairs. “Oh, shit I forgot. I’m sorry.”

He froze. Damn. He was running out of dress clothes to wear to work. He had things, just not anything he liked wearing, not anything comfortable. It was unfortunate.

Tsukki bounded up the steps, making Yamaguchi jump with his voice so nearby. “I don’t think you heard me. I forgot, I’m sorry Yams.”

Yamaguchi glanced towards the man now standing in the doorway and took a deep breath. This really wasn’t the end of the world, just today being so bad at work made things seem worse than they were. “It’s okay!” He cheered back. “If you put the laundry bag in my car I can do it after work tomorrow.”

“No! I can still do it. I just forgot today. I’m sorry.” Tsukki was scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. It clearly hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“No, don’t worry about it.”

“But I can-“

Yamaguchi chuckled slightly. It was... slightly off. Was he getting irritated? Not even he could tell. “I mean, you were supposed to do it Tuesday, then forgot. Then Wednesday. Then today. Just let me do it? I’m running out of nice shirts to wear to work.”

“I’m sorry Yams. I genuinely forgot,” Tsukki frowned, making his way over to the other boy.

“No, it’s not your fault. I have to do laundry way more often than you. In fact, we can just split it up so I do my own and you do your own? That way you don’t have to go more often than you need to.”

He frowned even harder. “No-“

“It’s okay.” Yamaguchi forced a smile. “I understand wanting to be independent. Yeah. Let’s do that.”

He left the room without another word, leaving Tsukishima speechless in their bedroom. What just happened? It felt like this was a step back.

Yamaguchi came back a minute later, laundry bag in hand, dumping it out and getting to work separating the couple’s clothes into different piles. He did so meticulously, making sure not even a sock would end out in the wrong pile. Tsukishima made no effort to stop him nor to help him. He still was confused as hell.

They ate dinner in absolute silence. What was either of them supposed to say? It seemed like the other actually wanted this. Were they really fighting over this? It sucked.

Yamaguchi didn’t let himself cry until he got into the shower, sitting on the floor and letting the water fall over his head. What had he done wrong? Was the wedding stuff too overwhelming? Now Tsukki didn’t even want to share laundry machines.

“Tadashi.” Yamaguchi snapped his head up to see his fiancée at the shower door, holding a towel in his hand. How long had he been sitting in the shower? How long had Tsukki been here?

“I...” what could he even say?

“You okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”

He bit his lip. Hard. Trying not to let it wobble or let out a sob or to even let any tears fall. He stood up and turned off the water, staring at his fiancée and nodding.

“Nice try.” Tsukishima wrapped the towel in his arms around his boyfriend’s figure. “What’s wrong?”

Yamaguchi started to dry off, not able to meet the other man’s eyes. “You don’t even want to share your laundry with me...” he mumbled.

“No, of course I do. You’re the one who separated them.”

“You didn’t stop me.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry. I was very confused in the moment. Are you really okay?”

Yamaguchi nodded half-heartedly. “I’ll be okay. Just work really sucked and it made thing even worse.” He got changed into his pajamas, shaking the excess water out of his hair, then climbed into bed.

Tsukishima climbed in next to him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Yamaguchi nodded. Tsukki didn’t make any effort to hold him or cuddle like they usually did before bed, but still, feeling his warm breath against his neck was enough to lull him to sleep.

Yamaguchi was at work before Tsukishima had even woken up, which was pretty surprising. Usually they at least got to see each other in the mornings. Yamaguchi always would make a lunch for Tsukishima and write him a cute little note. He wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t one today. He hadn’t realized not doing laundry was a big deal, but clearly it was a build-up of a few other things, and he felt really bad. He had wanted to apologize this morning, but that didn’t seem to happen.

Well, the least he could do was send a text to Yamaguchi.

I’m sorry for missing you this morning. And if I upset you last night. I love you and hope you have a good day

Aaaand now he was running late because he was stuck in his thoughts. He hurried to grab his laptop and his lunch, thank God Tadashi had made him one, and rushed out the door.

Half the day at work his eyes were trained on the lunch. Would there be a message? And why wasn’t Yamaguchi texting him? Hopefully it was just because he was busy.

When it was time for his break, Tsukishima practically leapt out of his seat to grab his lunch, opening it and shifting the food around to look for a note.

Got it!

Happy Friday! Hope you have a great day :)

Oh thank goodness. He let out a giant sigh of relief he hadn’t even realized he was holding in. Were his eyes seriously watering? That was ridiculous. Tadashi wouldn’t stay mad at him for something like that; he really was the best.

Just got on lunch break. Hope you’re having a good lunch <3

That was kind of a cheesy message, but he was very relieved and very much so in love. As long as nobody ever saw it but Yamaguchi it would be okay.

Yamaguchi must’ve had a really busy day. He’d usually reply with something cute, but this time he just loved the message. Well, at least he knew he had seen it.

Something felt weird though. This never happened. He never left for work early. He always replied during his lunch break, and if his break came earlier than Tsukki’s he would text him first.

Well... it was probably nothing.

Yamaguchi’s car was in the garage when Tsukishima got home. Yams usually got home later than him... hopefully that meant today went better at work for him.

“Yamaguchi! I’m home!” He called, making his way through the door.

Silence.

He went to the kitchen, but his fiancée wasn’t there. Outside? Nope. Up in the bedroom?

What?

“T-Tadashi?” He uttered out. There was Yamaguchi, bulky headphones over his ears, shoving clothes into a suitcase.

Yamaguchi’s eyes snapped up to meet his. “Oh!” His face was bright red. “Tsukki, I didn’t know you’d be home yet...” he slipped the headphones off his ears to focus on the distraught man standing over him.

“W-wait. What are you doing?” He knew something was off. He was an idiot for thinking things would be okay.

“Packing?” The man on the floor shrugged. Well yeah, that was obvious enough.

“I... don’t.”

“Hand me that shirt behind you,” Yamaguchi prompted him. Tsukishima looked behind him, eyes trained on one of Yamaguchi’s comfy t-shirts.

“I don’t want to.” He pouted.

Yamaguchi chuckled. “God, you’re such a pain.” He stood up and walked past his fiancée to grab the shirt. Tsukishima grabbed him in his arms as he past, trapping him.

“Tsukki,” he whined, shuffling to get out of his grip.

“No, no, no.” He held him tighter. “I’m not letting you go.” His words caught in his throat. This was stupid. How did Tadashi not realize it was just something stupid!? Had things been building up for a while now and he was too stupid to realize it? His grip tightened even more.

“I can’t breathe. I give in! I won’t move.”

Tsukki, sighed, feeling Yamaguchi relax in his arms, and loosened up a little.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not doing the laundry.”

“It’s okay! We can just do them separate from now on-“

“No!” He shrieked. “I don’t wanna. I wanna do my laundry with yours.”

“Huh? I thought you didn’t.” Yamaguchi seemed genuinely confused.

“No, no. You made that stupid suggestion. I wanna go to the drycleaner’s every week just to get your comfy shirts washed for work. Just... let me.”

“Well, in my defense, I’ve been trying to let you but you keep forgetting.”

“I’m sorry.” His grip was tightening and he could tell. He couldn’t help it. He was afraid if he let him go now he’d never be able to hold him again. “I’ll do it right this time.” His voice was shaky. He was scared.

“Why are you so upset over laundry?” Yamaguchi laughed—a genuine laugh—his chest shaking and giving Tsukishima butterflies, which he definitely didn’t deserve at the moment.

“You’re- you’re fucking packing Tadashi.” He let the boy go, folding his arms in front of him.

“In my defense, you weren’t supposed to find out this way.”

Why was he smiling!? What kind of a sick joke was this? He felt seriously ill. Was today backwards day? April Fools? Did he forget something?

Yamaguchi’s smile faded. “You okay? You look sick?”

“No, I’m not okay,” Tsukishima whimpered, tears brimming in his eyes. “Why are you smiling? And laughing? Do you even like me? Was it just some stupid joke to get with me?”

“Huh?”

“Well, I’m not gonna stop you.” Tsukki grabbed the shirt behind him and threw it towards the suitcase. He walked off towards the bathroom. He was gonna throw up. He should be begging for him to stay, but his stupid attitude came up and now Tadashi’s probably even more upset.

“Tsukki!” He felt the back of his shirt being pulled back. He turned to face him. “I feel like I’m missing something, Tsukki. Are you mad that I couldn’t text you today? We had management come in...”

“Huh? Why would I be mad.”

“You seem very mad...” he replied, eyes trailed on the ground.

“Aren’t you mad?”

“Huh? No. I’m just confused.”

Tsukishima was speechless. What was he missing here? “Why are you packing a bag?”

“Weekend together? I was able to get a flight to a beach and... I don’t know, I thought maybe it’d be fun. Do you have work or something? Did I mess it up?” Yamaguchi was fiddling his thumbs as he spoke, clearly nervous by his fiancée’s attitude.

“You idiot.”

“Hey!” He pouted. “It was going to be a surprise but you got home early.”

“I thought you were mad at me about laundry and you were leaving.”

“Leaving leaving? Why would I have written you a note for your lunch then?”

Tsukki frowned. “Well... I don’t know. I was confused.”

“I’m sorry.” Yamaguchi wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s neck, leaning up to kiss him on the lips. “Do you still wanna go? We don’t have to.”

“You scared me to death. Yes I wanna go.” He wrapped his arms around Yamaguchi’s waist, keeping him close. “Jesus, Tadashi. ‘Really scared me there.”

“I didn’t mean tooooo! I was confused too.”

Tsukishima picked him up, placing kisses all across his face, causing the shorter boy to giggle.

“Tsukki! We have to pack for the flight!” He squealed between giggles.

“When’s it leave?”

“Th-three hours!”

“Ugh, fine.” He dropped his boyfriend unceremoniously. “But to be continued when we get to the hotel, ‘Kay?”

“You better actually help me pack this time.”

He rolled his eyes at his fiancée. “Duh. Shut up you idiot. I love you.”

“I love you too, Tsukki.”

[sayitaliano]

Sanremo 2020

Here a few ways to watch Sanremo online starting on tuesday february 4th 8:30 pm (it’ll probably start with a 5 minutes “anteprima = preview” every night), until saturday february 8th, when the final will be broadcasted.

/ Official website / you can find loads of videos and interviews here + the latest news.

Rai’s website dedicated section (here)

Starting from January 27th, a 6 minutes show about Sanremo has been broadcasted every night, with interviews and random curiosities (here - PrimaFestival section right below the host Amadeus’ photo)

The usual Dopofestival, with the analysis of the show at the end of each night, won’t be broadcasted onTV but only on RaiPlay (here - L’Altro Festival)

CasaSanremo - A website about Sanremo and all the artists who will take part, with more infos and interviews. Follow them also on their Social Media Channels, usually they make live video/interviews/shows on FB for example.

Some video interviews on Sorrisi&Canzoni (where you can find also other infos about Sanremo)

To watch it live:

Raiuno -> just click on the first video on the left, or here , to open the Raiuno streaming immediately (I added the whole Rai channels things in case you had troubles connecting directly and wanted to try from there) I’m not sure you have to log in to watch a live, but it’s through just an email or FB btw

Sanremo in signs language live

I’ll try to write down some more infos/links through the week.

——-

Hosts & Guests + Other Stuff

This years’ host will be Amadeus (who choose the songs taking part into this Sanremo), a TV and radio host. He will be accompanied by 10 female co-hosts, all coming from TV, songs, sport and information fields: Francesca Sofia Novello, Laura Chimenti, Antonella Clerici, Diletta Leotta, Emma D'Aquino, Sabrina Salerno, Alketa Vejsiu, Mara Venier, Georgina Rodriguez, Rula Jebreal. They will appear on few nights (or just one) each. The radio and TV host Fiorello will be present all the 5 nights, same as the famous singer Tiziano Ferro. They will appear on stage randomly to entertain and sing, maybe also with other guests. Some of the one-night guests might be the singers Al Bano & Romina Power (with a new song, probably on day 1), Zucchero, Ghali, Gianna Nannini, Biagio Antonacci, Tony Renis, Massimo Ranieri, Jhonny Dorelli, i Ricchi e Poveri (all the 4 members who originally started the band), Ultimo, Lewis Capaldi, Dua Lipa, Mika (these last 3 probably on Thursday and Friday night); the actors/singers of a couple of Italian movies: Pierfrancesco Favino, Kim Rossi Stuart, Emma Marrone, Claudio Santamaria (Gli anni più belli - Gabriele Muccino) and Diego Abatantuono, Christian De Sica, Angela Finocchiaro, Massimo Ghini, Paolo Rossi, Rocco Papaleo (La mia banda suona il pop - Fausto Brizi); and let’s not forget the Oscar winner Roberto Benigni. For the 70° anniversary of the competition, a 300 meters red carpet has been held in Sanremo to connect the roads nearby to the Ariston theater. The names of the past 69 editions’ winners are written on the red carpet and they may stay there also after the end of the competition (not sure though - take a look at the pics here). An outside stage, called Nutella stage, has been build in the streets of Sanremo. Guests and hosts will randomly go there as well to cheer the crowd.

How it works 

Differently from last year, this year the young/newbie section is back. So there will be 24 singers in the Campioni (champs) section and 8 in the Giovani (young/newbies) section. The winner of the competition of the Campioni section will represent Italy at the Eurovision Song Contest: if he/she/them won’t accept, the choice will be another artist, usually the 2nd classified. Another difference with the past edition is that the “Duets night” will take place on the 3rd night. The Campioni’s singers will perform (with another Italian or foreign artist) a song from a past Sanremo edition. This special evening will be called Sanremo 70. Differently from the past, the rank at the end of the 3rd night, will change also the rank after the 2 first nights (votes will be added to the general rank).

Day 1 - co-hosts: Rula Jebreal, Diletta Leotta. Prob. guests: Fiorello, Tiziano Ferro. “Gli anni più belli” actors, Emma Marrone (will sing too), Gessica Notaro and Antonio Maggio, Al Bano & Romina Power. We’ll hear 12 Campioni’s songs (in order of performance: Irene Grandi, Marco Masini, Rita Pavone, Achille Lauro, Diodato, Le Vibrazioni, Anastasio, Elodie, Bugo e Morgan, Alberto Urso, Riki, Raphael Gualazzi) and 4 Giovani’s (Eugenio in via di Gioia, Fadi, Leo Gassman and Tecla Insolia). 2 songs of the Giovani will be excluded after two different 1 vs 1 contests (Eugenio in Via di Gioia VS Tecla Insolia || Fadi VS Leo Gassmann). The two winning songs (one for each contest) will pass to the 4th night. We’ll have a first rank of the 12 Campioni who performed tonight.

Day 2 - co-hosts: Emma D’Aquino, Laura Chimenti, Sabrina Salerno. Prob. guests: Fiorello, Tiziano Ferro. Zucchero, Ricchi e Poveri, Gigi D’Alessio, Massimo Ranieri, Paolo Palumbo, Novak Djokovic and his wife. The remaining 12 Campioni’s (in order of performance: Piero Pelù, Elettra Lamborghini, Enrico Nigiotti, Levante, Pinguini Tattici Nucleari, Tosca, Francesco Gabbani, Paolo Jannacci, Rancore, Junior Cally, Giordana Angi, Michele Zarrillo) and 4 Giovani’s songs (Fasma, Matteo Faustini, Martinelli & Lula, Marco Sentieri) will be performed tonight. 2 songs of the Giovani’s will be excluded after two different 1 vs 1 contests (Martinelli & Lula VS Fasma || Marco Sentieri VS Matteo Faustini). The two winning songs (one for each contest) will pass to the 4th night. We’ll have another rank of the 12 Campioni who performed tonight, and then one with all the 24 contestants (a mix with day 1′s rank).

Complete rank after 1 play of each song:

24 - Junior Cally - No grazie 23 - Bugo e Morgan - Sincero 22 - Rancore - Eden 21 - Elettra Lamborghini - Musica (E il resto scompare) 20 - Riki - Lo sappiamo entrambi 19 - Rita Pavone - Niente (Resilienza 74) 18 - Enrico Nigiotti - Baciami adesso 17 - Achille Lauro - Me ne frego 16 - Paolo Jannacci - Voglio parlarti adesso 15 - Anastasio - Rosso di rabbia 14 - Raphael Gualazzi - Carioca 13 - Giordana Angi - Come mia madre 12 - Alberto Urso - Sole ad est 11 - Marco Masini - Il confronto 10 - Levante - Tikibombom 9 - Michele Zarrillo - Nell'estasi o nel fango 8 - Tosca - Ho amato tutto 7 - Irene Grandi - Finalmente io 6 - Diodato - Fai rumore 5 - Elodie - Andromeda 4 - Pinguini Tattici Nucleari - Ringo Starr 3 - Piero Pelù - Gigante 2 - Le Vibrazioni - Dov'è 1 - Francesco Gabbani - Viceversa Day 3 - co-hosts: Georgina Rodriguez, Alketa Vejisiu. Prob. guests: Tiziano Ferro. Roberto Benigni, Mika, Lewis Capaldi, “L’amica geniale” actors. Duets night “Sanremo 70″, in order of performance:

MICHELE ZARRILLO Ft. FAUSTO LEALI – Deborah (Fausto Leali e Wilson Pickett, 1968) JUNIOR CALLY Ft. i VIITO – Vado al massimo (Vasco Rossi, 1982) MARCO MASINI Ft. ARISA – Vacanze romane (Matia Bazar, Sanremo 1983) RIKI Ft. ANA MENA – L’edera (Nilla Pizzi e Tonina Torrielli, 1958) RAPHAEL GUALAZZI Ft. SIMONA MOLINARI – E se domani (Fausto Cigliano e Gene Pitney, 1964) ANASTASIO & P.F.M. -  Spalle al muro (Renato Zero, 1991) LEVANTE Ft. FRANCESCA MICHIELIN, MARIA ANTONIETTA – Si può dare di più (Gianni Morandi, Enrico Ruggeri e Umberto Tozzi, 1987) ALBERTO URSO Ft. ORNELLA VANONI – La voce del silenzio (Tony Del Monaco e Dionne Warwick, 1968)   ELODIE Ft. AEHAM AHMAD – Adesso tu (Eros Ramazzotti, 1986) RANCORE Ft. DARDUST, La RAPPRESENTANTE DI LISTA – Luce (Elisa, 2001) PINGUINI TATTICI NUCLEARI – MEDLEY “70 volte”: Papaveri e papere (Nilla Pizzi,1952), Nessuno mi può giudicare (Caterina Caselli,1966), Gianna (Rino Gaetano,1978), Sarà perché ti amo (Loredana Bertè e i Ricchi e Poveri,1981), Una musica può fare (Max Gazzè,1998), Salirò (Daniele Silvestri,2002), Sono solo parole (Noemi,2011), Rolls Royce (Achille Lauro,2019) ENRICO NIGIOTTI Ft. SIMONE CRISTICCHI – Ti regalerò una rosa (Simone Cristicchi, 2007) GIORDANA ANGI Ft. SOLIS STRING QUARTET – La nevicata del ‘56 (Mia Martini, 1990) LE VIBRAZIONI Ft. CANOVA – Un’emozione da poco (Anna Oxa, 1978) DIODATO Ft. NINA ZILLI – 24 mila baci (Adriano Celentano e Little Tony, 1961) TOSCA Ft. SILVIA PEREZ CRUZ – Piazza Grande (Lucio Dalla, 1972) RITA PAVONE Ft. AMEDEO MINGHI – 1950 (Amedeo Minghi, 1983) ACHILLE LAURO Ft. ANNALISA – Gli uomini non cambiano (Mia Martini, 1992) BUGO E MORGAN – Canzone per te (Sergio Endrigo e Roberto Carlos, 1968) IRENE GRANDI  Ft. BOBO RONDELLI – La musica è finita (Ornella Vanoni e Mario Guarnera, 1967) PIERO PELU’ – Cuore matto (Little Tony, 1967)   PAOLO JANNACCI Ft. FRANCESCO MANDELLI, DANIELE MORETTO – Se me lo dicevi prima (Enzo Jannacci, 1989) ELETTRA LAMBORGHINI Ft. MYSS KETA – Non succederà più (Claudia Mori, 1982) FRANCESCO GABBANI – L’italiano (Toto Cutugno, 1983) 

Final classification of this “Sanremo 70″ night:

Day 4 - co-hosts: Antonella Clerici, Francesca Sofia Novello. Prob. guests: Fiorello, Tiziano Ferro. Johnny Dorelli, Gianna Nannini, Ghali, Dua Lipa, Tony Renis. The 24 Campioni’s songs will be performed (in order of appearance: Paolo Jannacci, Rancore, Giordana Angi, Francesco Gabbani, Raphael Gualazzi, Anastasio, Pinguini Tattici Nucleari, Elodie, Riki, Diodato, Irene Grandi, Achille Lauro, Piero Pelù, Tosca, Michele Zarrillo, Junior Cally, Le Vibrazioni, Alberto Urso, Levante, Bugo & Morgan, Rita Pavone, Enrico Nigiotti, Elettra Lamborghini, Marco Masini). Also, the 4 Giovani’s songs that won on day 1 and 2 (Tecla Insolia, Leo Gassman, Fasma, Marco Sentieri), will be performed again in two different 1 vs 1 competitions (Leo Gassman VS Fasma || Teclas Insolia VS Marco Sentieri). The 2 winning songs (one for each contest) will be performed one last time (Tecla Insolia VS Leo Gassman) and the winner will be the Giovani’s section winner of the 70° Sanremo’s edition.

Leo Gassman is the winner of the Giovani’s section:

The Premio della Critica “Mia Martini” for the Giovani’s section to “Eugenio in Via di Gioia”:

We’ll also have a new rank for the 24 23 Campioni’s songs.

Bugo and Morgan got disqualified for changing the words of the song and leaving the stage.

Day 5 - co-hosts: Mara Venier, Diletta Leotta, Sabrina Salerno, Francesca Sofia Novello.   Prob. guests: Fiorello, Tiziano Ferro. Christian De Sica, Ultimo, Biagio Antonacci, “La mia banda suona il pop”’s actors. All the 23 Campioni singers will perform again their songs (in order of appearance: Michele Zarrillo, Elodie, Enrico Nigiotti, Irene Grandi, Alberto Urso, Diodato, Marco Masini, Piero Perlù, Levante, Achille Lauro, Pinguini Tattici Nucleari, Junior Cally, Tosca, Le Vibrazioni, Raphael Gualazzi, Francesco Gabbani, Rita Pavone, Anastasio, Riki, Giordana Angi, Paolo Jannacci, Elettra Lamborghini, Rancore) and after midnight (prob. more like 1.15 am.) we’ll know the competition’s first 3 classified and all the special awards winners.

Final standing:

Diodato

Francesco Gabbani

Pinguini tattici nucleari

Le Vibrazioni

Piero Pelù

Tosca

Elodie

Achille Lauro

Irene Grandi

Rancore

Raphael Gualazzi

Levante

Anastasio

Alberto Urso

Marco Masini

Paolo Jannacci

Rita Pavone

Michele Zarrilo

Enrico Nigiotti

Giordana Angi

Elettra Lamborghini

Junior Cally

Riki

Diodato said he will take part at the ESC 2020! Other Awards:

Campioni Section:

Achille Lauro - Me ne frego  (lyrics) Alberto Urso - Il sole a est    (lyrics) Anastasio - Rosso di rabbia  (lyrics) Bugo e Morgan - Sincero  (lyrics) Diodato - Fai rumore  (lyrics) Elettra Lamborghini - Musica (E il resto scompare)  (lyrics) Elodie - Andromeda   (lyrics) Enrico Nigiotti - Baciami adesso   (lyrics) Francesco Gabbani - Viceversa    (lyrics) Giordana Angi - Come mia madre  (lyrics) Irene Grandi - Finalmente io  (lyrics) Junior Cally - No grazie  (lyrics) Le Vibrazioni - Dov'è  (lyrics) Levante - Tiki Bom Bom  (lyrics) Marco Masini - Il confronto  (lyrics) Michele Zarrillo - Nell'estasi o nel fango    (lyrics) Paolo Jannacci - Voglio parlarti adesso  (lyrics) Piero Pelù - Gigante  (lyrics) Pinguini Tattici Nucleari - Ringo Starr  (lyrics) Rancore - Eden  (lyrics) Raphael Gualazzi - Carioca  (lyrics) Riki - Lo sappiamo entrambi   (lyrics) Rita Pavone - Niente (Resilienza 74)  (lyrics) Tosca - Ho amato tutto  (lyrics)

Giovani Section:

1. Leo Gassmann – Vai bene così 2. Fadi – Due noi 3. Marco Sentieri – Billy Blu 4. Fasma – Per sentirmi vivo 5. Eugenio in via di Gioia – Tsunami 6. Tecla Insolia – 8 marzo 7. Matteo Faustini – Nel bene e nel male 8. Gabriella Martinelli e Lula – Il gigante d’acciaio

FESTIVAL DI SANREMO ALBO D'ORO (Past editions’ winners)

1951 NILLA PIZZI Grazie dei fior 1952 NILLA PIZZI  Vola colomba 1953 CARLA BONI E FLO SANDON’S Viale d’autunno 1954 GIORGIO CONSOLINI E GINO LATILLA Tutte le mamme 1955 CLAUDIO VILLA E TULLIO PANE Buongiorno tristezza 1956 FRANCA RAIMONDI Aprite le finestre 1957 CLAUDIO VILLA E NUNZIO GALLO Corde della mia chitarra 1958 DOMENICO MODUGNO E JOHNNY DORELLI Nel blu dipinto di blu 1959 DOMENICO MODUGNO E JOHNNY DORELLI Piove 1960 TONY DALLARA E RENATO RASCEL Romantica 1961 BETTY CURTIS E LUCIANO TAJOLI Al di là 1962 DOMENICO MODUGNO E CLAUDIO VILLA Addio addio 1963 TONY RENIS E EMILIO PERICOLI Uno per tutte 1964 GIGLIOLA CINQUETTI E PATRICIA CARLI Non ho l’età 1965 BOBBY SOLO E THE NEW CHRISTY MINSTRELS Se piangi se ridi 1966 DOMENICO MODUGNO E GIGLIOLA CINQUETTI Dio come ti amo 1967 CLAUDIO VILLA E IVA ZANICCHI Non pensare a me 1968 SERGIO ENDRIGO E ROBERTO CARLOS Canzone per te 1969 BOBBY SOLO E IVA ZANICCHI Zingara 1970 ADRIANO CELENTANO E CLAUDIA MORI Chi non lavora non fa l’amore 1971 NADA E NICOLA DI BARI Il cuore è uno zingaro 1972 NICOLA DI BARI I giorni dell’arcobaleno 1973 PEPPINO DI CAPRI Un grande amore e niente più 1974 IVA ZANICCHI Ciao cara, come stai? 1975 GILDA Ragazza del sud 1976 PEPPINO DI CAPRI Non lo faccio più 1977 HOMO SAPIENS Bella da morire 1978 MATIA BAZAR …E dirsi ciao! 1979 MINO VERGNAGHI Amare 1980 TOTO COTUGNO Solo noi 1981 ALICE Per Elisa 1982 RICCARDO FOGLI Storie di tutti i giorni 1983 TIZIANA RIVALE Sarà quel che sarà 1984 AL BANO E ROMINA POWER Ci sarà 1985 RICCHI E POVERI Se m’innamoro 1986 EROS RAMAZZOTTI Adesso tu 1987 GIANNI MORANDI, ENRICO RUGGERI E UMBERTO TOZZI Si può dare di più 1988 MASSIMO RANIERI Perdere l’amore 1989 ANNA OXA E FAUSTO LEALI Ti lascerò 1990 POOH Uomini soli 1991 RICCARDO COCCIANTE Se stiamo insieme 1992 LUCA BARBAROSSA Portami a ballare 1993 ENRICO RUGGERI Mistero 1994 ALEANDRO BALDI Passerà 1995 GIORGIA Come saprei 1996 RON Vorrei incontrarti fra cent’anni 1997 JALISSE Fiumi di parole 1998 ANNALISA MINETTI Senza te o con te 1999 ANNA OXA Senza pietà 2000 PICCOLA ORCHESTRA AVION TRAVEL Sentimento 2001 ELISA Luce 2002 MATIA BAZAR Messaggio d’amore 2003 ALEXIA Per dire di no 2004 MARCO MASINI L’uomo volante 2005 FRANCESCO RENGA Angelo 2006 POVIA Vorrei avere il becco 2007 SIMONE CRISTICCHI Ti regalerò una rosa 2008 GIO DI TONNO E LOLA PONCE Colpo di fulmine 2009 MARCO CARTA La forza mia 2010 VALERIO SCANU Per tutte le volte che… 2011 ROBERTO VECCHIONI Chiamami ancora amore 2012 EMMA MARRONE Non è l’inferno 2013 MARCO MENGONI L’essenziale 2014 ARISA Controvento 2015 IL VOLO Grande amore 2016 STADIO Un giorno mi dirai 2017 FRANCESCO GABBANI Occidentalis Karma 2018 ERMAL META e FABRIZIO MORO Non mi avete fatto niente 2019 MAHMOOD Soldi

[espbee]

i wasn’t originally going to post this since i’ve seen several other (perfectly valid) mob psycho timelines out there but you all wanted to see it so here it is!

this does not include pre-canon or the reigen spin off. the first b/c i didn’t really care lol and the second b/c i haven’t read the spin off for reasons i’m sure you already know.

almost every single one of these dates is based on canon evidence (see notes below) but a few are speculation. i go into depth under the cut so if you want to know, say, exactly what day mob buys the monkey shirt you can find out. if you want to see a specific panel hmu!

feel free to use as reference when writing fanfics or meta or whatever else you might want to use it for :D just please don’t repost 

Spring of Youth Arc

it’s not super important how many days pass in ep 1 but i think it’s all within a week. might be some overlap with ep 2 (tunnel exorcism on same day takenaka quits club? according to the manga it happens later anyway)

going by anime here: takenaka quits the club monday or tuesday, tome asks mob to join the club wednesday if i remember right (also the day he goes to the girl’s high school) and he joins the body improvement club friday)

(LOL) Cult Arc

not much to say. it’s literally an afternoon and the teru arc starts the very next day

Teruki Hanazawa Arc

happens basically immediately after the cult. like mob knows dimple for like 3 days before he’s “exorcised”

fight on a friday bc it’s on weekend news

aftermath: mob in pink hoodie probably on saturday, mezato interrogates him monday

Big Cleanup Arc

shigeo mentions in the divine tree arc that student council meetings are on mondays. however only having weekly meetings would make this arc take a really long time so i’m guessing it’s semiweekly. i’m guessing the other day is thursday because ritsu says he has a meeting on the thursday that mob confesses

same monday as end of teru arc: student council meeting where ritsu suggests a big cleanup, mitsuura gives ritsu his card

thursday: big cleanup plan submitted, mezato and onigawara look for mob (for totally different reasons), ritsu in the street w/ tokugawa

next monday: student council plans to get rid of onigawara

awakening lab might be on the same day as above but i’m not sure, mob also goes on a “date” with tome that day and sees koyama for the first time. that night is when shinji’s family gets after him for not being perfect and he decides to go apeshit

i’m guessing the recorder scandal happens the next morning (wednesday?). it doesn’t actually say if ritsu awakens that exact day but i’m just going to say it does

a little bit of time goes by (about a week?) ritsu’s becoming popular and he develops his psychic power. teru vs ritsu happens somewhere here. people are complaining about the big clean up

the day that ritsu and kamuro confront onigawara in the body improvement club room is the same day that ritsu first attacks the delinquents from the other schools (monday)

im guessing a day goes by before kamuro is beaten up (tuesday), then another day before he’s beaten up again (wednesday)

kamuro is absent from the student council meeting the next thursday

ritsu only has his powers for 9 days before announcing that he’s obtained loss

7th Division Arc

one month before touichirou arrives in japan. this makes sense because it’s not like the day he arrives he’s going to attack. touichirou probably arrives in late september or early october, prepares things for a couple weeks

mob goes to shinji’s house on sunday, ritsu and mob talk on the swings monday, shinji apologizes to onigawara tuesday. the kageyama parents know about ritsu’s power by tuesday night (what was that conversation like)

Mob’s Girlfriend Mini-Arc

2 weeks long: one for the elections and one for the dating

sidenote: psycho helmet cult has gained 700 followers by now and it’s been about a month according to mezato (and the timeline!)

mob works the monday after his brother’s kidnapped jeez reigen give the kid a break

going to say it’s wednesday when shinji resigns

mezato talks to mob about running on thursday

one week later: elections! (going to say they’re on a friday). emi asks him out that afternoon

mob and emi “date” for a week. im guessing she “breaks up” with him friday and he fixes her torn up story on monday since there’s enough time for everyone to react. i think the anime has all that happen on the same day though. either way is good

Urban Legend Arc

reigen complains about four days without customers

kuchisake-onna: it’s the weekend b/c mob’s wearing a sweater instead of his uniform and also b/c i doubt mob skipped school

reigen makes his website overnight and mob’s wearing his uniform the next day which means the trip to the urban legend town has to be on sunday

the first trip to the ghost house is on a sunday (what a busy day!), and the second trip is on monday

Keiji Mogami Arc

literally the day after the ghost house wtf (so… tuesday?)

if it feels like 6 months for mob would that mean he’s almost a third year in the dream world? or already is a third year? oh no…

uh technically there’s an aftermath the next day but really the arc is one day

Separate Ways Arc

kumagawa’s birthday is in late september btw. idk if there’s any kumagawa stans out there but now you know he’s a libra

kijibayashi’s birthday: 10/5? (also the day mob finally cant take reigen’s bs anymore)

mob doesn’t show up to work for at least four days pre-birthday (probably five days since kijibayashi’s birthday needs to be on a school day)

reigen’s birthday: 10/10 (also i’m assuming this is either the day of or the day after he defeats the video game thing)

he has to have enough time to offer classes and become a local celebrity… i’d assume he offers that course at his office that friday night (10/12). he’s interviewed that day too. a few days later he goes on tv (i’m going to say 10/15)

goes to bar 3 days after the tv show (wednesday 10/17)

thursday 10/18: reporterless-day

friday 10/19: press conference, “my master… he is a good person” *sobs*)

World Domination Arc

mob has 10 days to prepare for the marathon

marathon on friday (11/2)

teru fights shimazaki for the first time saturday morning, mob doesn’t wake up until sometime in the afternoon, and rei-gun is in the evening

mob sleeps like 18 hours… oof

the kageyama parents return home monday evening

Yokai Hunter Mini-Arc

this isn’t listed as seperate from the Divine Tree Arc according to the wiki but i’m calling it a mini-arc because the broccoli isn’t really the focus

mob mentions the future prospects assignment is due in a week

seri starts working at spirits and such a few days after the wd arc ends

going to guess there’s some overlap with the future prospects assignment and that it’s due sometime during culture festival preparations because otherwise the timeline breaks

okay everyone i know culture festivals are usually on or around november 3rd but according to all canon evidence there is absolutely no way that can happen on time. there’s literally no time. it has to take place at least 2 weeks after the wd arc

going to say the culture festival is nov. 18 because that’s all that makes sense (the previous weekend is too soon, and the next weekend is after the divine tree arc

Divine Tree Arc

Friday: Tsubomi sneezes — why dont u stop doing bad things

Saturday: buys The Shirt

Sunday: Psycho Helmet

Monday: Teru, Ritsu, and Reigen all brainwashed, Mob vs Dimple part 2

Telepathy Mini-Arc

finally a nice long break :D

find out about takenaka about one month after Divine Tree Arc

aliens on New Year’s Eve/Day

inukawa’s abducted by aliens for 10 days

???% Arc

inukawa has to be back by the time school starts

Mob finds out Tsubomi’s leaving the day he gets back from winter break (monday) :(

i think he calls her two days later?

the day after that mob is hit by a fucking car (also student council day so… thursday)

Epilogue + Omakes

we all know the epilogue is on 10/10/2013

the summer omake has to be after the ???% arc but i’m not sure what day. probably july

idk what else to say other than i can’t believe i spent so much time on this

[ivyveil]

Feeling Spirited

the one where it's a throwback to when Harry and Y/N were just friends and Y/N's drink helps her forget

A/N:  A Continuation of LITP (masterlist here) TW: alcohol 

The sky was dark. Had been for weeks now, the clouds clustering together to formulate something thicker than the water making up their essence. A fog was settling, clouding up your thoughts or ability to rationalize any of your actions. Acting with blind impulsiveness didn’t align with the rest of your usual characteristics; even your wildest nights generally took prior planning, but bottles had been a source of solace against the bitterness of confusion, the anxiety of life.

It hadn’t been an issue, not really, because you knew how to handle yourself when drunk, and knew the reaches of your limitations with alcohol. But trouble started brewing when your 5:30 pm started when everyone else began their 9:30 am. And when you thought you were only going for one more drink, but ended up with four glasses in your sink.

The drinks in the morning were simply to calm your nerves, settle the anxiety bubbling in your lungs. And the one at lunch was to offset the chance you would freak out in the middle of your presentation, and the second was because the restaurant offered you a free one.

Was only polite to accept.

It had spiraled into drinks at sporadic times throughout the day, never so many as to make you stumble while walking back to your desk, but certainly enough to only need one or two more when you went home, to slip over the edge. Even looking at a bottle seemed to get your mind in a safe place.

Nestled between the space of your wall and the bedroom bookcase, was a plastic bottle of Smirnoff, half-empty and pitifully groaning as it was tugged out. The books watched silently, probably feeling much superior because they were considered a more refined pastime.

The vodka didn’t seem to give a fuck.

You winced considerably when it popped out of its hiding spot, the familiar panic gripping your bones that you were a teenager again. Hiding alcohol from parents, keeping it in safe spots so any stranger’s eyes would only spot a pristine home, a girl who respected cleanliness and experienced minimal, if any, breakdowns.

The truth was always nestled somewhere deeper, whether it was beneath clothing in drawers, behind bookshelves, in the back of your bathroom cabinet, or underneath your bed. The truth usually tasted like shit, too.

That you were in your 20s and continuing the practice of secret drinking, of playing pretend to appease some authority that wouldn’t give a damn, now that your license said you were of age - it both amused and disgusted you. A restricted sense of adulthood, surely, a lack of freedom to openly be the drunken mess you felt inside. Perhaps it was acceptable to turn a blind eye to it in adolescence, but when you had become a regular at the liquor store, it felt more like a ruse.

Suppose it replaced your blood, you wondered, holding your arm up to the lamplight and inspecting the hint of veins against your skin. Suppose it congealed in the veins, a substrate for your demons to thrive on. Perhaps it could be better than the life of intangible anxiety that crept against each wall, became every shadow, lurked in everyone’s unsuspecting glance.

The nerves were rattling in your teeth, you could feel the invisible bugs of anxiety nipping at your chest and legs. If this was what it took to become calm, maybe it wasn’t so bad. Only a few drinks, more people probably did it than they would confess to.

“It was another shit work day,” you divulged to your cactus, padding back from the bedroom, to the living room, only to shlump against the couch. The cactus only watched, perhaps having come to the conclusion its advice would never be properly considered and it was only a waste of breath. Or photosynthesis. You weren’t sure on the particulars of horticultural language.

“I can’t scratch off how fuckin’ lonely everything feels,” you continued, mindlessly itching at your legs, not needing to be prompted by anything in particular.

Your apartment felt hollow, exasperated by the emptiness in both mind and soul. Curling up on the couch with some bottle had become a ritual, of sorts, yet you weren’t sure what good could come of it.

A shrine of glass and plastic bottles decorated the spaces above the kitchen cabinets, around the corner from where you were presently cuddled. Each one tallied a few night’s of shame, but cumulatively you supposed it was a nice Pinterest trick. Show the nonexistent guests how bougie you were, buying cheap whiskey and vodka. Make them think you had parties all the time, when they were only parties of one.

Your glass was ready, waiting patiently on the table, as you filled it to the brim with the nasty clear liquid.

“I think you’re my true love,” you cocked your head at the glass, taking it in for all its perks and limitations. Regardless, it was still there with you. All that mattered, to an extent.

You couldn’t really stand the shit, had to stick your tongue out like a fucking cat after each shot to bear the taste down your throat. But drinking wasn’t particularly for enjoyment, not these days. It was like a medicine to keep yourself calm; it felt like your whole life revolved around it, because to an extent, it did. But your sanity was on the brink of collapsing, and you were determined to do whatever you could to keep yourself calm.

It was at that moment, with your eyes squished shut and your tongue smacking against the roof of your mouth to distract from the sensation, that your phone buzzed. It was also on the table, next to the stack of marbled coasters and the multitude of TV remotes (why did services give you three remotes for one machine, you still didn’t understand).

I’ve missed you. Wanna come out tonight? x.

Harry and his mates, the group you loved and hated equally, would gather for beers at the Ale Tavern each Thursday evening, a letting-off-steam of sorts before the glorious Friday blessed their workload. Harry had met them through various means, photoshoots, interviews, or just networking events, and had hodge-podged the group together so you two would have a social setting to hang out when he was in town.

Which was, you reminded yourself, mostly because your friends list was lacking at the moment. Most of them, dear to your heart, had received promotions or were traveling around the world for the majority of their work, while you waited at home for nothing to happen. And for nothing to happen again. And maybe once more, for the heck of it.

Some of the group’s members, the ones teetering on the outskirts like leeches, looking for a better opportunity, often treated you like you were off, a bit. A screw loose in the mind, an instability in your essence.

When words came out of your mouth, their eyes would instinctively widen, as if your breath was mixed with unregulated insanity and electric nonsense, so you’d typically keep to yourself. Was the only way to survive the brutal bar nights, with small talk and curious glances at your best friend, who would spend the whole night dodging questions and smiling for photos.

Harry found your silence weird, every time, since you were often the life of the party within his other social groups. You felt his other pals were more genuine, allowing you to exist unapologetically. Plus, small talk was practically banned at those hang-outs, which was another reason you felt you got along well with them.

With your Ale Tavern group, though, Harry had the tendency to nudge you gently, when you were in the corner of the booth stirring a Long Island, and ask you what was wrong. Which would, in turn, increase your unwillingness to be engage with more people -- because why were you well-known for being strange, why couldn’t you simply be a dilution of yourself and pass as OK?

Another buzz, another text.

You poured another shot.

I’m proud of you btw, you’re doing really well. x. :)

Another buzz, another text.

You winced before knocking the shot back, your tongue shooting out on instinct after.

Speaking of, should I come over? If you don’t want to be around drinks…

Giggling to yourself at the unfortunate timing, you swayed a bit on your couch and repositioned your legs to tuck under your ass. One of the green blankets draped over the couch fell to the floor during your transition, and your eyes trained on that spot, waiting to see if it returned.

It didn’t. Gravity was a fucker, only headed one way.

Harry was sweet to care, truly, but if he saw you in this state you knew how it would go. The disappointment would swell in his eyes, he would gently try to pry the bottle out of your hands. Thinking about the situation, even as a possibility, made your fingers curl against the plastic a bit more stubbornly.

“It’s too late, I’m nothin to be proud of,” you informed your phone, frowning as you attempted to scroll up further in your texts with him. There was nothing, though, but it didn’t register until it buzzed once more, and your scrolling resulted in a new text appearing.

I’m just gonna come over. Is that okay? xx.

“Okie dokie,” you mumbled, poking each letter with your index finger until the message was spelled. You sent it.

The cactus groaned in the back, whispering to the lamp, “He is going to be so fucking pissed when he sees her like this.”

Harry was the one who consistently found you passed out at the bar a few streets away from your home. The bartender had found your phone the first time, when Harry was calling (and the ringtone was an obnoxious version of What Makes You Beautiful that you had stumbled upon once, not an important detail but once that made him blush at the time) and had informed Harry that his friend would probably need help leaving, given your state. His number became a regular one to call.

So Harry would help you home, rub over your face gently with a washcloth in a hearty attempt to get off your makeup, and hold your hair back when you came to and felt the drinks for a second time.

Quiet pity and a particular sort of confused hurt would reflect in his eyes, when you had the guts and stability to look at them. He was usually under the impression you were staying home, getting over a cold, busy with work, etc. - and that was why you weren’t able to make it to some mutual friend’s birthday party. After all, that was what you had told him, anyway.

Neither you nor Harry spoke about those nights, when it was the morning after, or even any night after.

You had sent him a text, weeks ago, after guilt had rusted away the stubbornness in your bones. You informed him you were going to try and stay sober for a bit, not liking the way it had made you feel. He was happy about it, it seemed, because the worry was absent from his smile the next time you ran into each other. His hug was a bit tighter, but then again, that was just Harry being Harry.

Your soberness lasted four days. Then you were back, standing in front of the cabinet, with that pathetic acceptance you loathed about yourself. How one aspect of your soul could so resiliently rule the rest, made no sense. You didn’t know how to fight it, though, and so the glasses and bottles came out once more.

You gave your cactus the most awful side-eye you could muster, before extending yourself fully out on the couch. Your fingertips felt like they were touching clouds, clouds intermingled with the deep current of black waters, which meant you had drunk a bit more than you had meant to. An accident, surely, but it didn’t stop you from rolling over on your side (and almost off the couch), huffing at the bottle.

It glugged like a drunk whale trying to drown, pouring out another shot.

Someone was stroking your hair. It felt nice, the rhythm of their fingertips against the curls, stopping at the edges of your forehead, before moving back and gently starting again. The motion was kept on one spot of your head, as well, which was a personal favorite of yours. The movement throughout the whole head was just craziness. Everything had a greater chance of messing up when it came to full-head-hair-strokes. And only one person had heard that drunken rant before (except for your cactus, but that usually kept to itself about your rants. As most cacti do.)

“Yeh up?” someone mumbled, throat thick. They sounded half-asleep, and their fingers slowed as they waited for an answer.

Your head was still smashed against a wave of Smirnoff, too blurred to put two and two together and recognize the need for a response. Anyway, you didn’t appreciate the fingers stopping, so you grunted softly to signal that.

They didn’t continue, this person seemed really fucking set on getting you speaking. Your mouth felt glued, in a thicker, denser sense of the word. Your tongue felt perfectly content resting against the back of your teeth, your lips staying shut.

It was when you became steadily more aware of your surroundings, how it wasn’t a pillow under your head but denim, smooshed against your cheek. How your head was sloped up from the rest of your body, how a blanket was tucked around your person and even your toes were covered by the tassles on the end. You were on someone’s lap, surely, and in the depths of your mind you wondered, with a slight giggle, how scandalous a drunken night alone, in the comforts of your home, could get?

“Who’s asking?” you managed to croak, your fingers reaching outwards from the confines of the cozy blanket, seeking the bottle you knew would’ve been hidden at this point. The question was pointless, you knew him by his cologne. Hell, you knew him from how he stroked your hair, for Christ’s sake.

It was the improbable sense in your gut that hoped it was someone like Chris Evans who had you cuddled up against them. Maybe he was in the midst of robbing your home (Marvel might’ve gone through budget cuts, it happened to the best) before stumbling across your sleeping body. Maybe he found your Chinese takeout, too, because you were awful at remembering to eat leftovers. Although it would be disturbing on most levels of sanity, you could find the loveliness in the situation.

If it were Chris Evans, that is.

“Harry. ‘Ve got long hair, ‘m yeh best friend. Yeh told me I could come ove’’,” Harry teased quietly. It was sort of unsettling, how humor was in the words but his actual voice was void of emotion. He was worried.

You were quiet, unsure if this was a situation in which Harry would take over the conversation if you stayed silent long enough. There weren’t many words you had to say, anyway, your present situation must have been clear enough when he walked in. Plus, his knee was nice to rest your head against. Speaking would just lead to eventual motion, which was already turning your stomach at the thought.

The two of you listened to the distant hum of your freezer kicking into place from the kitchen, the soft rattling of ice cubes tumbling into the tray you had set out. Harry seemed content on waiting for a response, of any type, or maybe to see if you fell asleep. It was entirely possible this entire conversation had happened earlier since Harry’s arrival, and you had passed out again.

If you were to move your head, you felt, something really unfortunate would happen. Like vomiting. Or the world ending. Or having to look Harry in the eyes.

His fingers stopped fully, just resting against your cheek. They were embers, most definitely, and you wondered if you could start a trend for Harry Styles Cheek Burns. Probably wouldn’t catch on. Bit of a health hazard, perhaps. It was difficult to know for sure, because once a thought formulated in your mind it seemed to expand outwards into the galaxy, becoming so diffused in the stars you weren’t able to piece it back together again.

“What’s been goin’ on, Y/N?”

His eyes were on the back of your neck, trailing up to your cheek. It wasn’t unsettling, how you could feel his gaze with your mind – or, at least, it didn’t feel so, at that moment, with him. It was just natural, how you understood him.

He sounded tired. He sounded like he had been working on asking, for a while, and the slight strangled noise that twisted the softness of his voice signaled that you had really fucked up. This wasn’t a joke, anymore, it wasn’t for shits and giggles like it was when you would out-drink his Irish friends at the bar.

All Harry wanted was an answer, a few words so he could just know what to do. Alcohol was an issue with a few other friends, ranging from binge drinkers to alcoholics, and Harry was comfortable enough spending nights dry with them. Essentially, he was comfortable because they told him where their boundaries were, and he could navigate those easily.

Yours, on the other hand, were completely blank. How it felt, to watch you slip out of your daily self, into some shell that no one else seemed to notice, it drove him crazy. How was he supposed to ask why his best friend was leaving, how he could stop it?

There was no way Harry could order you to quit drinking. To be honest, he didn’t know if it was just alcohol, and some subconscious level of his mind was on alert for that phone-call. Another one, with you shlumped in some dim-lit bar with seedy men clinging on the walls with tongues snaking out, sniffing the vulnerability in the air. Or an even worse phone call.

Shudders erupted from the base of his neck, down to his spine. He didn’t even want to think about it.

He didn’t know how to save someone who didn’t want to be saved. Someone who wouldn’t even open up to him about it. He wasn’t sure how to respond with you not talking to him about it. You two were best friends, he told you things his own mother didn’t know about. What could be so bad, you couldn’t tell him?

Entering your home to find you, initially unresponsive, on the couch with a hand dangled against the carpet, a bottle clutched in your fingertips, was nothing short of terrifying. His heart had plummeted through his stomach, his chest felt tight and he wondered, with the worst case scenario always coming first, if you were alive.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck. C’mon Y/N...this isn’t funny, c’mon wake the fuck up - oh my god, c’mon don’t leave me here, wake up.”

Helplessness could only sharpen its hold on his throat with time, his voice growing steadily higher-pitched, when he didn’t know what had happened. After gently (and then roughly) shaking your shoulders, and finding that you weren’t unconscious but simply napping (“I thought yeh were dead, Jesus Y/N, don’t do that again”) and he had chuckled a bit when your eyebrows came together, not quite stirring enough to register his panic, and you had dipped again in the haze of dreams.

The smile on his face seemed maddening, the swelling tears in his vision seeming more appropriate for the situation, but he supposed it was simply a reaction to overwhelming ‘what the fuck’ feelings. This wasn’t one of your stupid jokes, the type where he would laugh without realizing because you had laughed at yourself, which just triggered him to laugh more and – no, this was something beyond the scope of seriousness that he knew how to deal with.

You were fine. You were fine. You were okay. It was just a little too much to drink, the coldness of your hands was just normal. You were fine.

He had lowered himself onto the couch, moving your head to rest on his lap, so his fingertips could feel your pulse as he stroked your hair with the other. Authorities weren’t needed, he had felt, you were just napping. (He had still texted his family doctor, though, just to make sure.)

“Just had a drink o’ two,” you whispered, staring at the wall.

He hummed, his fingers resuming the strokes against your cheek. Harry could tell it calmed you down, how your breath evened out and your eyebrows relaxed. Even as you were coming out of the safe space of intoxicated padding, even when the glimmer of soberness clung to your eyes, he needed to feel you physically there.

His heart hadn’t stopped feeling tight.

“Wanna tell me why?”

“I don’t know.”

The words left you in short gasps, as your fingers curled against the denim of his jeans. Your eyes stayed open, glazed over slightly, somewhat with tears and somewhat with that emptiness that had been ripping you apart lately. How was something so non-existent so prevalent in your existence? And why was it that all you had nowadays, was a bunch of ‘how’s and not much else?

Harry nodded slowly, sniffling quietly. Maybe you didn’t know the words, you couldn’t explain what you were feeling. Maybe he was beginning to understand that he couldn’t understand. That the spaces of your world were compressing in so many angles, it was dizzying the amount, the walls were closing and you were the only one in the room. He couldn’t enter it, he couldn’t pull you out.

“Do yeh need to throw up?”

The familiarity in the question, it pulled from his lips without hesitation or urgency. He was used to this, you realized, guilt flooding your senses and kicking some of the haze away. Harry’s nights with you were, nowadays, commonly associated with toilets and toothbrushes, with him gently prying a bottle out of your hand and listening to your rambles that mainly consisted of the various alcohol brands you could think of.

You nodded, knowing the nausea hadn’t gripped your eyes shut yet, but it would soon.

“’Kay,” he sighed, raising his arms so you could scoot out, “let’s go on, then.”

Once more, it felt too much like a routine. Like a horror movie where you were lost as to how you got here - in a schedule that felt both so normal and incredibly wrong. 

He shouldn’t have to do this, he shouldn’t have to be here.

It was all you could think of, a looped tape in your mind, with his broad hands carefully holding onto your hips to help you maintain your balance. (You had started refusing to be carried to the bathroom, after Harry hadn’t made it in time. Wasn’t one of your better nights, that was for sure.)

Harry had even gotten in the loose habit of braiding your hair as you were bent over the toilet, your legs immediately going around and him sitting close behind. It was reminiscent of those massage trains girls used to do at sleepovers, but more ‘adult’ and trashy. 

“C’mon, feel like that one was the last?...No, ‘kay, that’s fine, yeh just gotta get it all out, hm?” Once your hair was plaited, his hands would softly rub against your back until you nodded, signaling it was over for the night. He would normally be quiet for it all, having spent the night clubbing with you and attempting to switch out your drinks with waters, but this time was different.

“I want yeh to do what makes yeh happiest.”

You had rested your cheek against the cool lid, not feeling the next wave of nausea. It seemed like you were in the clear, your head’s pounding had substantially lessened, but you didn’t move. Harry had more to say.

“And this, this isn’t it. You’re the best friend I could ask for, Y/N...I can’t watch yeh like this, anymore.”

You sniffled, nodding bleakly and with a shaky hand, you wiped underneath your eyes, reaching up blindly to pull at a few tissues to mop up the mess on your face. Harry’s hands drew to a still, before gently resting on your shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah? Talk ‘bout it in the mornin...yeh can call off work, and we can figure it out,” he promised. Harry made a mental note to email his therapist for some recommendations for alcohol abuse therapists, just for resource options.

When you had the courage to look behind you, the voice in your mind faintly recognizing you hadn’t looked at him directly that night, the first thing that caught your attention was the tear streaks down his reddened cheeks. His eyes seemed bigger than normal, looking at you cautiously.

Harry gave you an attempt at a smile, the wells only overspilling with the action. He gave a little shrug with his shoulders, as if saying ‘what can be done about it?’ before patting your shoulder twice.

Hastily wiping at his cheeks, Harry slowly rose to his feet, sniffling, all while you were still curled against the toilet. You watched him silently, the disgust that typically followed your night’s routine finally catching up and settling in your bones. If you could crawl out of your skin, you would’ve, no second thought.

Harry held out a hand for you to hold onto, carefully helping you up, waiting as you wearily brushed your teeth and gargled some Listerine, and led you over to your bedroom. No words were exchanged between either of you, but as the covers were pulled back, you pulled your arm out from Harry’s light grip, staring at him.

“You shouldn’t have to do this,” you shook your head, “I’m sorry I’m like this. You shouldn’t have to do this.”

Harry had moved over, settling in on his side of the bed, pushing one of the pillows over to your side (he only liked having one, for some reason). When you spoke though, he immediately started shaking his head.

“Stop it, won’t hear it. I’m here ‘cause I wanna be...if I didn’t wanna be, I wouldn’t. I care about yeh, want you safe.” It was clipped, not unkind, but to the point. 

You didn’t respond, letting the night cover over the conversation like a drape, a thick blanket taking over your eyelids. Nestling under the covers, feeling the warmth of another human being to your left...hearing the rustling of the covers as Harry got comfortable beneath them…

You felt the cover lift from your body as Harry moved underneath it, his arm securing around your waist and pulling you comfortably closer to his chest. His head tucked against your shoulder, his lips pressed familiarly against your back. You smelled like alcohol, as if it stained your pores, but he didn’t mind too much. Just liked knowing where you were, that you were safe.

“Harry?”

Words felt different in the complete dark, more confessional. It was safer, to say these sorts of things. As if they could be more easily written off, than it spoken during the day. Your mind was shutting down for the night, you could see the swirling storms of dreams out against the grey horizon. But you just needed to say...

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For not leaving me.”

“’Course. ’M forever yours,” he mumbled, holding you tighter.

“Goodnight, Haz.”

 “Night, love.”

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A/N: Check the masterlist of LITP here, and let me know your thoughts if you would like!  

[sooghostwriter]

CLUB ıFinaleı

Genre: AU. Adult. Pairing: Do Kyung Soo  x OC Plot: Moon Soo goes to EXO Club (aka EXO Strip club) one day, and falls under the spell of one dancer, D.O.

Notes: i’m so sorry for the late update, but life got in the way. I went on vacation, and then SM Town happened (yes, I had Kyung Soo right in front of me). But here I am. I want to thank you all for the support, the comments and the love. Enjoy the last chapter.  Remember to listen to the playlist! BTW, the song he dances is CBX’s Thursday. 

Chapter 5.  

Moon Soo went to pick up Kyung Soo at the coffee shop where he worked after her shift. She arrived a bit early, so she walked around the neighborhood checking the store’s window displays. She wished she could find something for Kyung Soo, a present to commemorate his new job. She walked for a while until she found him a black apron at a specialized store. She still had some minutes to kill, so she went to Kyong Soo’s coffee to wait for him. He was preparing something in the machine very focused, so he didn’t see her when she walked into the store and ordered. The girl at the register told him what she ordered and gave him a cup with her name on it.

He came back to the sophisticated coffee machine, Moon Soo still unnoticed. After a couple of minutes of explosives noises and steam, he was done with her coffee “Moon Soo?” He called, not looking ahead “Here! Thank you D.O” She said playfully, grabbing her cup. He looked up startled “Moon Soo, you are early”

“I know, I will wait for you over there” She pointed at a comfy couch at the back of the shop “Ok, I’ll be done in 15 minutes” In the 15 minutes that passed, at least 10 costumers arrived, and Kyung Soo prepared the 10 coffees quickly.

He appeared with his street clothes after his shift ended with a middle-age woman behind him “We will miss you Kyung Soo, take care ok”

“Yes ma’am, thank you for everything” He bowed at her and gave Moon Soo a signal to come with him. He offered his hand and Moon Soo grabbed it, walking outside the coffee shop. When they were outside, he turned around facing the glass walls “I quit this job today”

“You did? Why?”

“I need to focus on cooking, and they pay me more at the restaurant now, so I can survive without the coffee money”

“Congratulations Kyung Soo” He looked at her puzzled “You are taking a new step, and that takes braveness and it needs to be congratulated”

“Thank you”

“So now you only have the job at the restaurant, the karaoke and the club”

“Yes”

“Still sounds like a lot”

“Yeah, in the future I will probably quit at the karaoke place” She was kind of relieved “Not the club uh?”

“Oh no, I love it there” He started walking with her, swinging their joined hands “Good for you, good for us, good for everybody”

“You don’t want me to quit the club?”

“Of course is your decision, but no, not only because you are amazing but also because I know you like it, you love it, you like the rush it gives you, you love to dance, you love your friends there, so why quit when you don’t have too, at least not yet” He stopped on his tracks again, grabbing her other hand, making her face him “Again, you get it”

“I get it”

Working with kids was always her favorite part of the job. They were very brave. But also, they always came with parents, and parents were terrible.

A birthday party went wrong when the kids got food poisoned with the chicken. Now the ER was populated by 10 kids, with their respective mothers and fathers. Her head was killing her, so she needed a break. One of her colleagues took her position and she went for some needed 30 minutes of rest. She still had the night ahead. She checked her phone and found two missed calls from Kyung Soo and a message telling her to call him as soon as possible. She got really worried, she wished she had his number on speed dial so she could call him faster. He picked up after the 2nd ring “Kyung Soo, did something happen?”

“Yeah, I got kicked out from my apartment” He sounded so sad and worried, she wanted to run to him and console him “Why?”

“My landlord found out about my job, she said a lot of things regarding my morals and stuff and kicked me out, she even gave me back my deposit” She was fuming all of the sudden “That bitch!” A nurse that was passing by jolted at her cursing, she bowed at her apologetically “And where are you know? What are you going to do?” He cleaned his throat a bit nervous “I was thinking, May I stay at your apartment until I find a new place? I could stay with one of the guys, but the possibility terrifies me” She sat down at a bench relieved, she was thinking on proposing that, but she was worried Kyung Soo wouldn’t like the idea “I’m glad we were thinking the same, I’m not going to be there until tomorrow morning, but make yourself at home, ok?”

“Thank you, Sehun and the other guys are helping me with my things, you don’t mind them at your house?”

“Of course not, are you going to need my car?”

“No, I have that covered”

“Ok, see you tomorrow then” He took a deep breath and his voice sounded so much calmer when he said “Moon Soo, Thank you”

“I’m glad I could help you”

She normally left work an hour after the end of her shift, there were always things to do, information to give to her colleagues. This time she dashed out the door as soon as the clock marked 8 o’clock.

She picked up breakfast on her way and went home. Kyung Soo was just getting dressed when she arrived.

His energy was very low. His eyes looked tired, and his voice sounded different. Even the way he walked was slower than usual. She wouldn’t say he was sad, he looked disappointed. She gave him a tight hug and brought him to the kitchen so they could eat “She was so disrespectful, she kept talking at me like someone inferior, and saying things like I can’t imagine what can of life you live, you deceive me and I just stopped listening at some point, I couldn’t answer either, I was in shock and she wouldn’t stop talking, it was so frustrating, and I was terrified, I didn’t know what to do, then she left and threatened with calling the cops If I didn’t leave by today” The more he spoke, the sadder his voice got. Moon Soo kept caressing his back, and with every sentence, she felt more and more disgust up her throat. She was a doctor, yes, and her duty was to save lives, yes, but she was ready to take one life just now “Who she thinks she is?! That amount of disrespect!” Kyung Soo only shrugged “You aren’t hurting anyone with your job, unless you consider sexual frustration a bad thing, but besides that your job is as normal as any other job” Kyung Soo brought his left hand to her thigh, trying to calm her down “Moon Soo?”

“What?!” She shouted unintentionally, but Kyung Soo only chuckled at her tone “Thank you for getting mad, it takes away a lot of frustration when you get mad for me and support me”

“Well…yeah, but…I mean it’s obvious!”

“Yeah, but not everybody is as open-minded as you, especially a fifty-something woman” Now he was comforting her “I guess, but still! kicking out a young, gorgeous, well-behaved man!”

“She thought I was a prostitute” She felt her eyes growing and the anger boiling inside, she took a couple of deep breaths so she wouldn’t break something “What?! Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but the amount of prejudice!” By now Kyung Soo was amused by her anger, he was grinning meanwhile she felt her eyebrows atrophied into an angry position “Let’s change the subject, you are getting way too work out” He moved his hand from her leg to her back, and slid his other arm over her stomach, engulfing her into a hug. She laid her head against his chest and she felt him dropping a kiss on her head. She started feeling sleepy, feeling calmer with Kyung Soo’s touch and smell. She felt how her body went numb “I think we need to get you to bed”

“Sure roommate” She answered getting up, Kyung Soo followed her close “Are you working tomorrow?”

“No, I got a free day because is my birthday”

“It’s your birthday?!” She took her clothes off and put on her pajama, resting importance to the matter, Kyung Soo was still surprised by the news following her around the bedroom “Why didn’t you tell me?” She got inside her bed, arranging her pillows “I don’t know, is there ever a good timing to say when is your birthday? you ask those things, which reminds me, when is yours?”

“January 12”

“Noted,” She said, tapping the side of her head with one finger. Her eyes were closing. He told her something, but she couldn’t grasp what. 

Moon Soo’s birthday tradition was to stay in her pajamas all morning and answer all the calls from family and friends. Then she would go have lunch by herself to some nice restaurant, then buy herself a gift, and then drinks with her friends.

But this year there were some changes.

She woke up early because Kyung Soo had to be at the restaurant at 8 a.m. She stayed in bed as he got ready. He gave her a good morning kiss, a good birthday hug and another kiss “You have plans for lunch? Let me invite you, I have rehearsal at the club, I’ll be done by 2 ”

“Sure, my pleasure”

“And also, Do you have plans this night?”

“Yeah, my friends and I are going for drinks, Wanna come?”

“I can’t, is Friday, but come home as soon as you are done ok?, and don’t get too drunk, you are going to need all your senses for what I have planned” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully and Moon Soo was stunned “Jesus, what did you plan?”

“It’s a secret”

“Kyung Soo! Tell me! I will have to wait until tonight?!”

“Maybe midnight” He winked at her and run outside her bedroom.

She stared at the door of her room for a long time. She mostly cursed at him inside her head. The curiosity was killing her and he just left like that. She didn’t like to wait.

To distract herself she got up and took a bath.

She used a bath bomb, exfoliated and shaved. Whatever surprise Kyung Soo prepared for her it most definitely involved sex, so she wanted to be ready.

As always, her morning consisted of answering birthday phone calls. She had breakfast and then spend a bit more than an hour choosing what to wear on her birthday date.

The day was really nice, the sun was up, and it wasn’t very cold. She drove listening to music, finding everything on her way prettier than other days.

She arrived at the club earlier than she expected, so she parked in front to wait for Kyung Soo.

She was focused on her phone, so she didn’t see the three guys approaching her car.

Someone knocked at her window and she looked expecting to see Kyung Soo. Her disappointment changed to surprise when she realized who was knocking. She recognized them immediately. It was Kai, Xiumin and Baekhyun.

She didn’t like this position at all. She was seated in her car so of course she was lower, and these three guys were looking at her from above, like some kind of 21st-century Greek goods. She wasn’t afraid to recognize that she was quite intimidated.

But then she remembered that she saw two of them in underwear, and she wasn’t intimidated anymore. It was kind of amusing. Instead of rolling down her window, she decided to go out of her car. The guys took a step back and as soon as she was out, they crossed their arms over their chests, at the same time, which was very comical “Are you Kyung Soo’s sugar mommy?” Asked Baekhyun “Did he called me that?”

“Yes, I mean no, but when we called you that he didn’t correct us, he only smiled at us and then left”

“I can see him doing that, then I guess I…” Kai coughed, a fake one, of course, interrupting her “What are your intentions with Kyung Soo?” His two friends jolted in surprise, but regain composure quickly “My intentions?” The three of them nodded once, at the same time. They were waiting for an answer, and she wanted to answer them. She gave herself a couple of seconds to think about her rejoinder, it wasn’t very hard “My intentions with Kyung Soo are…supporting him in what he does, but also try to take some burdens from his back, take care of him in everything I can and provide him with everything he could need” Once she was done, she took a big puff of air and saw how their faces softened. They remained silent, looking at each other “What? What happened with the men of some minutes ago?”

“Yeah, what happened?” Kyung Soo asked, behind Kai. He cursed, turning around, finding Kyung Soo with a severe look on his eyes, but she was sure it was just his normal stare. Moon Soo could swear she saw fear in the face of his friends.

Kyung Soo walked pass his friends and stood next to Moon Soo “Leave her alone, you already got your answer” His voice was far from annoyed. He was sweet. He was explaining to his son’s that dad was okay, or something like that “We were just worried about you” Said Baekhyun, looking at the floor moving his foot nervously “And I appreciate it, but you already heard and saw that she has good intentions”

“And are you guys like…dating?” Baekhyun demeanor changed from embarrassed to high school girl ready to gossip “We haven’t talked about that yet” He answered, his voice severe “Well, you do realize that you are both holding hands, right?” They both looked at their hands and in fact, Kyung Soo at some point had interlocked his fingers with hers, or maybe she did, the fact was that she hadn’t registered that “Well…sure, anyway, the point is that this is none of your business, Moon Soo and I have a date now, so if you excuse us” He released her hand to push his friends away from them. She opened her door and before she got inside, she waved at them and this time the three of them answered back smiling. Kyung Soo walked around the car and they both got inside the car. Before leaving, Moon Soo pulled down her window and shout at them “I forgot to tell you guys that I am a huge fan of your work!”

“Thank you!” The three of them shouted at the same time, Kai bowing and the rest waving profusely.

The rest of the afternoon passed by very quickly. Lunch with Kyung Soo was very fulfilling. Not only food-wise.

He accompanied her to buy herself a gift. She got a new sound system for her house and bought Kyung Soo a new set of fancy headphones since his were about to die. She insisted on buying him a pink set with cat ears, but he only gave her a dead stare and she grabbed a set of very low-key black headphones.

She went back to her place to take a quick nap and change her outfit. She left Kyung Soo at the subway station and before he went off the car, he reminded her about his surprise “Have a good time with your friends, but remember not to get too drunk and be ready for my surprise”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that damn surprise”

“It will be damn, yeah” And he went out of the car.

The friends gathering was great. Her friends invite her to a famous bar, the food never stopped coming, and her glass was always full. She did control herself with the booze. Her friends not too much. But it made her happy to see that they were having a good time.

The clock was about to hit midnight when she excused herself from the table. Some of them made a big deal about her leaving, but they were too drunk to insist.

She took a cab back to her place, and as soon as she got in, she wrote to Kyung Soo that she was on her way.

- Great, everything is ready here, don’t use your keys, knock the door –

He answered. She asked the driver to take the fastest route to her place. And he did. So, she paid him more than necessary. She followed Kyung Soo’s instructions. She knocked at her own door, and when she lifted her hand to do so, she realized how nervous she was. Her hand was shaking, and her heart bit was out of control. She knocked twice and she felt him on the other side of the door. The click of the door opening almost made her hyperventilate. “Welcome,” Said Kyung Soo when she walked in. She couldn’t answer, she was appreciating him. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt and equally tight black pants. Once her shoes were off, he grabbed her hand and walked her inside the house. Kyung Soo’s hands were a little bit sweaty, he was nervous, she could tell. He didn’t speak. He only walked ahead of her, until they reached her living room. The lights were dimmed, he had lit some candles and he had made some arrangements in the place. In the center of the room, instead of her modern coffee table, there was a chair “What is this?” She asked, her voice a whisper. She looked in his direction, and Kyung Soo’s outfit now had a new addition. A black cap. The image immediately came to her head. That was the outfit he was wearing the first time she saw him perform “Sit down Moon Soo, I’m going to give you a lap dance” Her world stopped for a long second. And she wasn’t exaggerating.

She wanted to say something. Anything. But the shock was massive, and she couldn’t quite explain how she felt in words. A high pitch scream could be more honest. But Kyung Soo understood it apparently. He chuckled, grabbed her hand and walked her to the chair “I honestly don’t know how to do this, I’m kind of nervous” She squeezed his hand, and made a huge effort to speak out “Don’t worry, you are going to be alright” She could have told him that he didn’t need to do it if he wasn’t comfortable, but she wasn’t a saint, she wasn’t that stupid “I’m just going to copy what my friends do, also, I may have had a couple of drinks, I don’t know why this makes me so nervous, I take my clothes off in front of hundred people! One lap dance can't be that much worst” He was clearly nervous, he stuttered a couple of times, and he was unable to look at her, also, there was this adorable redness on his cheeks, could be the drinks, but most definitely was the embarrassment the entire situation cause him. Instead of saying anything, Moon Soo pulled him into a kiss.

She kissed him slowly, pillowing his lips, caressing his cheeks, nape, shoulders, trying to convey her calm to him, showing him that he was safe with her. This was just between the two of them.

When she parted, Kyung Soo was smiling. His shoulders weren’t stiff anymore, his eyes were less serious, but the redness of his cheeks was still there, and she liked it there “I think I’m ok now”

“Trust me”

“I do” He moved away, and signaled her to sit at the chair. She obeyed, a wide smile on her lips. He moved away, and she grew anxious. She wanted to have him close “I’m going to prepare the music”

“Are we really doing this?”

“Of course, is your birthday gift” He grabbed his phone and walked to her new music system. It took him half a minute to have everything ready, of course, it felt like longer.

The room went silent. She couldn’t even hear her own breathing, mostly because she wasn’t breathing. Kyung Soo walked to her, putting his black cap on “You recognize this outfit?” Of course she did, but she couldn’t say so, she only nodded energetically. He stood in front of her, touching her knees with his body. He bend down, his lips close to her hear “You can’t touch me Moon soo, got it?”

“Really?! I thought I was getting special treatment!” Her voice found a way out, for obvious reasons. This was outrageous. Though Kyung Soo was very amused by it “No, no touching”

“You are bad Do Kyung Soo”

“The worst” He grinned at her, she couldn’t see his eyes because of the lighting and the cap, but she could imagine how dark and dangerous they looked “Are you going to touch me?” She asked hopefully “Of course”

“Ok, good enough” At least she was going to feel him. He moved his attention to his phone, pressed the screen and the music filled the room.

I like that feeling, right before it’s about to get ripe

This distance of just about to touch but not

I don’t think you’re getting any closer

But I like you even more

In this space that’s so perfect

The bit was slow and mellow, the rhythm made her body react. He wasn’t even moving, and she had to hold the chair to keep her hands in line. Kyung Soo walked around her chair, slow, caressing her chest, shoulders, and back on his way. He stood behind her, his hands heavy on her shoulders. He slid them down her arms to her hands. He rested his chin on her shoulder and dropped a kiss on her ear. She closed her eyes, moaning, and she heard his chuckle. Cocky bastard.

I’m tilting myself to you

My balance keeps crumbling

I held it in, I pressed it down so well

But now my heart is spilling out

My heart has passed the afternoon

And now is going toward midnight

Story will be starting tonight, yeah

You’ll be mine

Oh, you’ll be mine

When the song reached its chorus, Kyung Soo moved to the front, passing a leg above hers, capturing her between his body and the chair. His hips started rotating, his hands caressing his chest until they reached his hips. He gave a soft thrust and started rolling his body against her, he wasn’t touching her, but she could feel his heat. She wanted to feel him against her bare skin. It was maddening. But she refused to move. She was going to be obedient. Instead, she bit her lip hard.

It’s a night that’s slightly too early to have hearts fluttering

We’ve been stopped and we need a little something different

We’re about to take a step

That’ll be hard to take back once the night is over

When tomorrow’s sun rises

I’m going to slightly pull on us

Her heart was clenched like a fist. She never even dared to dream about this. Kyung Soo was a stoic man, and his word was definitive. He said no lap dances, so no lap dances. Also, she wasn’t fetishizing him as a stripper. He was her lover who happened to be a stripper, but that didn’t define him.

But Kyung Soo was also a man full of surprises. And now he was dancing for her. And her poor, horny heart was having trouble taking all in. And it got worse when he grabbed the hem of his tight shirt and pulled it up, taking it off without further a due. She yelped in surprise, and that cocky grin appeared again.

I’m tilting myself to you

My balance keeps crumbling

I held it in, I pressed it down so well

But now my heart is spilling out

My heart has passed the afternoon

And now is going toward midnight

Story will be starting tonight, yeah

He grabbed her right hand causing her to jump on her seat. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, looking straight into her eyes. Her heart clenched harder.

He didn’t release her hand, instead grabbed her wrist with his other hand, and moved it to his chest. She groaned in relief. His skin was hot and incredibly soft. His grip was still strong, he was allowing her to touch him, but he was in control. He kept moving her hand down his chest, till he reached his abdomen. He stopped there for a while. His stomach moved up and down quickly because of his heavy breathing. He was affected too, not as affected as she was, but the excitement was mutual. He kept holding her hand against his stomach, Moon Soo looked up at him and he was staring back at her, his bottom lip between his teeth “Keep moving it down, please Kyung Soo” She begged, “You want to touch me?” His low voice went straight to her core “Yes, please keep moving it down”

You’ll be mine (All the time)

All the time

He grinned at her and slowly slid their hands down over his belt and then right on top of his zipper. She moaned when she felt him, big and hard under her palm. She moved on her seat uncomfortably. Her thighs opened and closed, rubbing against each other. She kept grabbing her t-shirt with her other hand, she just didn’t know what to do with herself “What do you want now? You want me to keep dancing for you, or you want me to fuck you?” She couldn’t answer immediately, and Kyung Soo was amused by how the two option were battling inside her head “I…I don’t know” He laughed, such an adorable laugh compared with this sinful situation “I’m so turn on and I really want you to fuck me, but also I’m loving seeing you dance this close”

“Then is pretty clear, I’m finishing this dance, and then we are fucking in this chair” She agreed, with a small voice.

I’m going to slightly pull on us

I’m tilting myself to you

My balance keeps crumbling

I held it in, I pressed it down so well

He moved away from her suddenly, getting on his knees, pulling her legs open. He grabbed her waist and rubbed his body against her middle, moving up until they were face to face. He was breathing heavily, and his breath fanning her face felt suffocating. He got up, closed her legs, turned around and straddled her lap, giving her his back. He dropped his body to the front, resting his weight on his hands, and started rubbing his still clothed and very hard dick against her. She had a close look at his perfectly formed ass, and her hands were itching to touch him, but they were trapped with his legs. He kept moving his body, rolling his hips, rubbing himself against her.

But now my heart is spilling out, after the long is over

Your name rises in my heart as the sun

Story will be written on your heart

You’ll be mine

He moved up, resting his back against her chest, she brought her lips to his skin, hot and slightly wet. She dropped a kiss on his shoulder blade, tentatively, and heard him sight in content. He reached back to hold her hands and brought them to his chest. He moved them up and down a couple of times, slowly, to please himself, and to torture her probably. She was losing it, and biting his shoulder looked like a good way to release some tension, but before she could do it, he was gone. He stood up suddenly, re-arranged his pants and turned around, grinning “Are you okay?” He asked, with a tiny bit of mock in his voice. Not enough to annoy her, but enough to make her want to erase that grin with a filthy kiss “Very, please keep dancing” She answered, more like begged. Kyung Soo walked behind her and moved her hair to one side, so he could have clean access to her neck. She shivered violently when he dropped a light kiss on his shoulder and then whispered against her ear “I love how open you are” Immediately she looked down at her legs. Her thighs were closed tight, trying to control the urgency of her crotch “No, not that silly, I mean you, you always say how you feel, you are an open book, most of the time” He bit her earlobe playfully, and she was so grateful that he was doing this under his own rules and he was touching her, otherwise she would have gone insane by now. She was on the verge. And Kyung Soo with his furtive touch fueled that insanity but tamed down the fire burning all over her body. Suddenly she felt very selfish. She knew Kyung Soo didn’t do lap dances, but he better didn’t start now. She wasn’t going to share this with anyone. She was ok, more than ok, with him dancing, but this, this amount of teasing, sensuality, and confidence had to remain just to herself. This was her Kyung Soo acting like D.O only for her.

Her Kyung Soo.

Was he hers?

Kyung Soo stopped whatever line of thought she was entering when he moved to her front and pulled off his pants. With no warning. Not teasing hip movement or fondling. Just pulled. The sound of the Velcro resounded on her ears, and the view of his naked legs and tight briefs knocked the air out of her lungs. She was so used to that view, whenever they had sex, when he got ready to leave to work, when he walked around her kitchen preparing something. It was so common, but in this context, it looked new. 

He took one, two and three short steps back. Very slowly. Like a feline. He sat down on his knees, breathing heavily, resting his hands on his thighs, his stare fixed on her. She could see his hard-on, the faint shine of his sweat on his chest and forehead, and the darkness of his eyes. She wasn’t the only one enjoying this. It was clear. Kyung Soo was getting a kick from feeling this wanted, from having this control. And she was going to show him how she was enjoying it too. As soon as the show was over, she was going to find permanent residence between his legs. She was going to suck the hell out of that hard-on. She moved her eyes back to his. The music was over. There was silence, only their breathings were audible. Quite loudly.

Kyung Soo licked his lips a couple of times and run his hand over his face. He reached ahead and grabbed her chair, pulling it to him, capturing her again between his body and the chair. His naked chest felt hot trough the fabric of her pants, she wanted to open her legs wider, so she could feel him closer where her body was burning the most “What do you want?” He asked, his hands caressing her thighs “I want to touch you, I want to suck you off”

“Do it then”

“Really?” He didn’t answer, he got up and gestured her to pull down his underwear “Go ahead Moon Soo, I know you are great at it” With firm hands, she grabbed his black briefs and pulled them down in one go. She moved her face closer to him, thirsty.

She didn’t go for teasing licks or any kind of foreplay, she knew he liked to be touched, his abdomen, groin, and thighs. But this time she would have to skip all that, for her own sake. She immediately attached her mouth to the tip of his dick, sucking hard. Both moaned at the same time. His hands went to her head, holding her hair softly. She moved her hands to his thighs, but stopped halfway, Kyung Soo said no touching, at least not without his permission “Go ahead, you can touch me now” And she did.

She held on to his thighs for dear life. Moon Soo set to first tease playfully, licking his hard cock a few times before swallowing it whole. His breath hitched before he let out a long growl, rolling his hips to slide deeper on to Moon Soo’s mouth. The sounds he made and his fingers pulling her head spurred her more. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking harder, bobbing her head faster. Kyung Soo didn’t know what to do with himself “Moon Soo, stop! I’m going to come” She released him with a loud pop “Do it, come, do it in my mouth” She urged him, drooling, all shame she could feel was long gone “No, I’m going to fuck you, I need to be inside you”

“Kyung Soo, you are driving me crazy”

“Come here” He pulled her up by her arms and made her stand in front of him. Quickly, he removed her clothes and underwear and finished by taking off his last piece of clothing. He pulled her body close to his, hands moving from her arm to his nape, and Moon Soo felt how the hairs of her arms stood on its end. She pulled him closer by the waist, feeling his hard cock against her stomach. Moon Soo closed her eyes briefly when Kyung Soo’s hot breath touched her skin, trying to calm herself down. He stroked her nape and leaned in more and more until their lips met. Moon Soo gave him easy access for his tongue to explore. She took his kiss greedily, sucking his upper lip, biting his lower lip, feeling his teeth capturing her lower lip as their hands roamed each other bodies. Both of them were panting heavily after resurfacing from the kiss.

He grabbed her face firmly but kept caressing her cheeks tenderly. Quickly, he changed positions with her and sat at the chair, bringing her with him, making her sit on his lap “Ride me”

“Here?” He nodded, his eyes dark with lust “Here, come on, ride me” He framed her face as she leaned in to kiss him, arranging her body on top of him, moving her chest closer to his, sitting on his thick thighs comfortably. Her hands carded through Kyung Soo’s hair and her tongue ran along his lower lip before slipping inside Kyung Soo’s mouth. She could still taste the alcohol he drank to gain confidence, there was a sweetness also, or she could just idealizing the kiss. He pulled back and his hands slid down her neck to her chest, moving around her torso, his eyes following their path appreciatively. His lips found purchase on a patch of skin between her breast, and he sucked gently before grazing his teeth along the same patch.

Moon Soo gasped loudly, fisting her hands in Kyung Soo’s dark hair painfully. Although he didn’t complain. His hands slid down Moon Soo’s chest to rest on her hips, trying to pull her closer, closer than she already was. It seemed impossible to her. She was already able to feel the heat coming from his skin, if she allowed herself to exaggerate a little bit, she felt the beat of her heart against her own chest. But Kyung Soo needed her closer, and there was one way to fulfill his wishes. She stood up, amused by Kyung Soo angry exhale, which sounded almost like a snarl “We need a condom, I’ll be back” Before she could leave, Kyung Soo grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to him “No need to go far, there’s one on my pants” She looked down to the floor, and Kyung Soo’s pants were resting next to her right foot, torn apart, but still useful. She fetched the piece of foil that peeked from inside one of his pockets and incorporate back on to his lap. Kyung Soo rested his hands on her knees as she was putting his condom on, focused on her task. He kept his eyes closed, his lower lip tightly captured between his teeth, he was very sensitive apparently. He reached for her face and catch her lower lip between his teeth. Moon Soo grunted at the pain and moved closer to him, so he could have his much-needed skinship. Kyung Soo dragged his lips up her jaw to her ear and nipped her earlobe, she felt her body melt on his lap. His hands grabbed her thighs, gave them a couple of squeezes and then moved back to her bottom to pull her closer to his dick. She felt him hard against her inner thigh. She moaned, involuntarily, and Kyung Soo grinned as she threw her arms around his neck, trying to calm her whimpers by kissing him. Kyung Soo bucked his hips up, looking for some friction, and trying to get more moans out of her, which was quite an easy job “Fuck me already Kyung Soo, I’m desperate”

“You are on top, help yourself” She cursed at him for always being a sexy asshole in this kind of situations. He ran his hands up Moon Soo’s sides as she grabbed him and helped herself. Kyung Soo’s frame shivered and soon they were pressed together skin to skin “You are so wet, is this because of my lap dance?” She only nodded, focused on finding a good rhythm with the movement of her hips “So do I get a nice tip?” Moon Soo couldn’t stop her giggles “This is your tip” She said, biting his earlobe. Kyung Soo let his mouth wander down her chest, stopping to tease her nipples with his teeth. He sucked the area gently and then bit down as he bucked his hips, the chair squeaking against the floor. Moon Soo was pleased to see the dark shade of pink on his cheeks when she pulled apart to get a bit of air in her lungs. She ran her hands up Kyung Soo’s chest, enjoying the feel of his soft skin and the warmth of it. She loved how solid he felt under her hands. She scraped her nails down his chest lightly, engraving in her head the sounds his mouth made. Moon Soo never stopped moving her hips, the more Kyung Soo moaned or grunted, the faster her hips moved, looking for relief. Kyung Soo grunted again, squeezing her hips hard “Go slow please, or I’m not going to be able to hold it”

“So what?”

“I want to make this last, is that too bad?” He finished with a deep moan when Moon Soo snapped her hips again. Her pace went slow, Kyung Soo was never one to have a quickie, and she quite liked that, so she complied with his request. She rocked her hips forward, feeling every inch of Kyung Soo as he also moved his hips, meeting her halfway. He ran both hands up Moon Soo’s back and made her yelp in surprise when he suddenly pulled her to him, capturing her lips in a wet sloppy kiss, his hands resting heavily on her shoulder blades. Moon Soo wanted to move her hips fast and strong, but she contained herself. She was an obedient lover.

Kyung Soo’s kiss had her moaning nonstop, every breath ended in a moan. And she couldn’t avoid pinching his nipple in reprimand when she felt him smile against her lips. His victory was short-lived as Moon Soo decided to speed things up, moving her chest away from his, resting her hands on his knees, exposing herself to him. Kyung Soo moaned at the view, his eyes moving slowly from her face to her chest and then where both were connected. He thrust in, hard and repeatedly. Moon Soo felt her hands grabbing into his knees as claws so she wouldn’t fall back. Kyung Soo moved one of his hands to her lower back and the other to her clit, rubbing circles with his strong fingers. She felt herself clench harder around him “Fuck Kyung Soo!” She cursed involuntarily, and the sound of his chuckle irritated her just a tiny bit “I changed my mind, come now, I wanna see it, I wanna see you” Both of their breaths were coming in pants. She moved, taking Kyung Soo out of her and took a couple of seconds to move back, having him inside again. Her entire body buzzed to that feeling, her muscles felt like cotton and when she closed her eyes she saw lights of all colors. For some reason, she felt more sensitive than other times. Maybe it was the position, or the alcohol from before, or the lap dance. Probably it was all of them combined. She was so close, but before, she wanted to make true a small fantasy of hers “Come on me Kyung Soo” He looked at her puzzled “I want your cum on me, here” She completed, pointing at her mound. He locked eyes with her, and she saw them grow dark. His lips formed a perfect smirk and he whispered a “My pleasure” Moon Soo got down to work, her hips rolling, kind of imitating his movements from before. And it was clear that he quite liked that “Touch yourself, I wanna see you” She obeyed immediately, she knew just what to do to get the release she and Kyung Soo needed. He looked at her hypnotized, his hips were bucking against her now, softly but decisively. One of those thrusts overflowed her. She came violently. Her core shaking, her moans loud, but not loud enough. She grabbed on to Kyung Soo’s knees stronger, but he didn’t complain, so she rode her pleasure to the end, letting its fire wash over her. Kyung Soo didn’t wait for one more second and reached down to take his condom off, tossing it to the side. He positioned himself and rubbed his erection a couple of times before his orgasm hit him strongly. His cum formed irregular patterns on her skin, and it felt hot and sinfully pleasurable. Kyung Soo kept pumping himself until she stopped him to do it by herself. His dick was growing soft, but it still felt heavy against her hand. She leaned forward, back to her place against Kyung Soo’s chest, and pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck and shoulders, then finally crushed their mouths together in a bruising kiss. He grunted into her mouth as he circled his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly “So you really enjoyed the lap dance” He commented, his voice muffled by her skin “So much”

“Happy birthday…should I start doing it at the club?” She knew he was joking, but leaving things clear couldn’t hurt anybody “No, that’s only for me, got it?”

“Loud and clear ma’am” He nuzzled her neck, sucking enough to leave a couple of marks there “Am I gonna get this treatment too someday?” He asked, moving his head to the other side of her neck “You want me to give you a lap dance?”

“I would love too”

“Then wait for your birthday”

“Next year then” Moon Soo let it pass, she was confident enough to give him a lap dance. She wasn’t the best dancer, but she knew how to undulate her body and that was all it takes. But one thing that stayed with her during the rest of the night, meanwhile he carried her to her room, to fuck again, and then when he got with her in the tub, was how he so easily made plans for next year.

He was planning to stay around for a long time apparently.

And her chest vibrated with glee.

Bosses were betrayers. That’s for sure.

Hers knew she took her day off to celebrate her birthday. And that always implied a hangover, maybe a headache, or just the honest need of rest. But the bastard told her to go back to work at 8 am. An hour that was simply ridiculous.

Her alarm was set to ring at 6 am.

She went to bed at 3 am.

It wasn’t weariness what didn’t allow her to get up though. Well, that too, but she was used to functioning tired.

The reason for her grogginess was the professional cuddling that Kyung Soo was performing on her. Her body was cocooned by Kyung Soo’s with engineering perfection. His chin resting against her head, her back warmed by his chest, her butt like a puzzle piece fit against his dick and their legs were entangled, sharing warmth since their covers were lost somewhere. He was awake too, she felt the change in his breathing, And the hand that was resting against one of her boobs tightened its grip “You can’t get up?”

“No” He hummed behind her, rubbing his body against her “You shouldn’t…you really have to?”

“Yeah, I have to be at the hospital at 8 o’clock” He stayed silent for a couple of seconds, thinking about something. “Wanna come so you can have some energy” He proposed, his hand fondling her breast and moving down with a clear agenda “Will love to, but I don’t have time to have sex”

“No, no sex, I was thinking about getting you off”

“That I can do” He helped her turn on to her back, his right arm pillowing her head, his left hand already getting under her underwear. There was no time to be lost. His fingers massaged her with experience. They already knew what to do and how to get her moaning in a couple of minutes. Most of the time she kept her eyes closed in complete bliss. But when she opened them, she found him looking at her fondly. Of course, his eyes were dark, and he kept licking and biting his lips, but there was this spark of something in his eyes. As if this was more than just getting your lover off. He was caring about her. Or at least it felt like that, and she felt so…so…

Kyung Soo thought it was the right time to finger fuck her. And he was never wrong. He used his index and middle finger to get in and massage her, and her thumb remained stuck to her clit, pressing and rubbing. Her orgasm hit her quickly, and very strongly. She couldn’t open her eyes nor close her mouth. Her lower back lifted from the mattress, her hands grasping whatever was around them. Normally her body would go down after a minute, maybe two. But after her body was back to a relaxed position, with Kyung Soo’s hands roaming her, helping her to stay calm, her heartbeat remained strong and fast. The drumming on her ears was still loud and her limbs were numb. And then it happened.

Kyung Soo kissed her temple, tenderly, innocently. But her body amplified the feelings and emotions that this simple act caused on her.

She felt her heart explode. As exaggerated and repetitive as that could sound. It just exploded. And her blood was rushing all over her body. Dizziness, trembling, ragged breathing, partial loss of consciousness. She was feeling all that, and more. 

She was hyperventilating. She sat up abruptly, a thing that didn’t help her current situation. She brought one of her hands to her chest and the other to her neck, checking her pulse. And it was not ok “What happened?” He asked her clearly worried. She didn’t dare to look at him “My heart rate, Jesus, look!” She grabbed his hand and put it on her chest. His eyes opened wide, a familiar expression that was one of her favorites. Her heart rate went up immediately “Are you sure you are ok?”

“Yeah, don’t worry…I just, it was a lot, I came and then I had this thought and then you kissed me and my heart just…it feels so weird still”

“What thought you had?” His voice was so low, and his eyes so serious. She knew her answer would dictate things from now on, and he knew that too “Uh?” Was the only thing she could form “Don’t act dumb, what thought you had?” He insisted “I don’t want to say it”

“Say it so I can say my thoughts too”

“I was just…I came to realize that I like you a lot” The hand he had against her chest move down to her waist and he moved his head closer to hers, half facing her “You have like me for a while now, That’s why we have been doing this for a long time” He kissed her shoulder snuggling closer to her “Is it more than that?” He asked with confidence “Yeah it is”

“Say it”

“I think I love you” He relaxed next to her. He looked so confident before her confession, but now it was clear he was alleviated “Well, on my side, I know I love you” There it was again the tachycardia “Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked him, flustered “I don’t think we were ready” His hand kept rubbing patterns against her body, and his eyes looked calm, which gave her some rest, although his confection still had her shook “And now we are? Ready I mean”

“Sure”

“Says who?”

“I say” He smiled at her and kissed her briefly. She giggled shyly. The shyest she had felt since she met him. Before she could kiss him too, she had to confess too “I love you Kyung Soo”

“Me too Moon Soo” She kissed him this time, but quickly he dominated the kiss, sinking his hands in her hair, trying to push her back to the bed, succeeding.

She called in sick.

And Kyung Soo skipped rehearsing.

The End

[theonyxpath]

The Deviant: The Renegades Kickstarter launched last Thursday and we would have loved it to fund in 24 hours, but it was actually closer to 25. Possibly every backer was pranking us, but in the end it’s cool- we did fund, we’re gonna get this newest Chronicles of Darkness game into retail stores, and we’re moving into building additional books with the Stretch Goals!

So basically, the Deviant KS is doing great! Come join us!

Links for the Deviant: The Renegades and the Creature Collection for Scarred Lands 5e Kickstarters are below in the Blurbs! section.

We have had some folks, who I’m guessing have not backed any of our last few KSs, write to tell us that they’re taken aback by the listed international shipping costs. Yep, we are as miffed at those costs as you, and as I posted here a month or so back, we have chosen to go ahead and still ship internationally and post the costs, rather than stop shipping internationally as quite a few of our fellow TTRPG publishing have chosen for their KSs.

I figure it’s better to let prospective international backers know the cost upfront so they can make the informed choice that makes the most sense to them.

Usually when I explain this, I also let folks know that behind the scenes we have tried and are continuing to explore alternative shipping options. With Deviant‘s KS, we are still using our previous methodology, but with the concurrently running Creature Collection for Scarred Lands 5e Kickstarter (also doing nicely, thank you!) you can see one of the options we’re exploring.

In CC’s case, we’re working with Handiworks Games not just on the art and writing and design and Kickstarter for the book, but also with printers and fulfillment based in the EU. We’ll have a bunch of books sent over to the US for those backers, and then we hope that costs to ship from the EU for our international backers will be more reasonable.

Like I say, it’s an experiment that we think will work in a good way, but that’s never a guarantee in the rapidly shifting cost-structures of international shipping. And we’ll have to see if it is repeatable for other projects, too.

VtR2 Spilled Blood art by Michele Giorgi

But enough about Kickstarter, let’s talk about me.

Well, pretty much about how I spent my weekend, but it will circle back around to general topics about our hobby.

Have you ever had one of those time-frames where it seems that everybody you haven’t been able to get together with all want to hang out at essentially the same time? Well, that’s what happened to me, and for a twenty-four hour period I had three get-togethers (one was virtual) with old gaming buddies.

The first was an invitation from two high-school friends for dinner on Friday night which of course turned into talking about how my one buddy Johnny, aka Shithead the Dwarf, and I first met during our first D&D games as sophomores in HS. That’s the gaming club where when we started, we had the first four little D&D booklets and were waiting for the fifth booklet, Blackmoor, to be released.

It just so happened that my English class (that’s what we called Language Arts then, kids) had assigned me a journal to write, and in it I chronicled those first D&D adventures, so even now through the mists of time I can read all about how we’d stir through piles of mud with 10′ poles, and get attacked by 11 Stirges, and lose our Cleric to being swallowed by a Giant Frog.

The first few months we played with our very first DM, Robert, but then he had to get ready to graduate, and both Johnny and I stepped up as DMs. Johnny continued to run and play games until he graduated, and I did same but returned to our HS to run games for a couple of years since my art college wasn’t that far away.

When Johnny came home for break, and later when he was on leave from the Navy, there was always a seat at our gaming table for him, and some of his “temp” characters lived on as famous NPCs. Which was easier because my setting, my D&D “world”, has been the same since I first stepped up to DM as a sophomore.

(I share all this about my friend both for context and because I’ve known this guy for over 40 freaking years and that amount of time boggles my mind.)

And we weren’t the only players who ran games too, most of our players did both – which makes me wonder what we could have done with Community Content sites for all of our many worlds? Getting into Dragon Magazine was some folk’s goals, but if we could have published our stuff? Wow!

Of course, we probably would have needed the internet to make it happen, and we were just getting desk-top computers at that time!

BTW I just listened to the recording of our “What’s Up With Onyx Path Community Content?” panel from Gen Con on the Onyx Pathcast from last Friday, so Community Content might be on my mind. It’s a good panel if you’re interested in exploring publishing your own material for our games, so check it out on Podbean or your favorite podcast venue.

Dark Eras 2 art by Alex Sheikman

Then, Saturday all day was board games with the old gaming crew from both HS and the college years: Elmer the Troll, Thock the four-armed well, Thock, D’Gr’Gr the Duergar, and Ish, the gender-neutral Deep Gnome jester.

Obviously, those are their character names (from one campaign I ran), but in real life they are old friends and we’ve tried to get together once a quarter to play games, or go to the movies, or whatever, and this was one of those occasions.

We played Terraforming Mars and Blackbeard, and had a fun time learning the former while grinding our teeth trying to figure out what the hell the rules were so desperately trying to say with Blackbeard. Granted, it was an old Avalon Hill game, but seriously, these things were contradictory in the same paragraph.

This is one of the reasons I take the errata phase of our Onyx Path games seriously – can the audience understand and implement your text in the way you intended when publishing it? It’s sometimes hard to tell until you get it in front of that audience, so that phase for us gives us that feedback.

Then Saturday night, after our guests left, I raced upstairs to join our ongoing D&D 5e game on Roll20. It had been quite a while since we could get our schedules to line up (and of course it had to be this self-same day), and we were shifting from Justin running it to Oscar. So big change, although they had decided to keep our current characters and storyline with Oscar stepping in to add to our ongoing saga, and Justin could join in as a player.

So I had to play if I could swing it timing-wise. Turns out I could, and did, and a good time was had by all. What’s really interesting is the contrast as I look at the playing experience Johnny and I were reminiscing about, and the one I had on Saturday night.

Still playing D&D (from 1e to 5e!), but there’s our group doing collaborative world building as DMs. Not done by me and my HS friends in those early days; everybody was more about presenting THEIR world, that melange of influences and tropes that they wanted everyone to play in. The chance to tell the stories they wanted to tell. In a way, it was very personal, and it was how we all expected was just how it was done.

I do think part of opening up how and why we create and run our settings is the ensuing decades of game design that have experimented with more innovative ways to play. Not all the avenues that have been explored have worked long-term, but the accumulation of trying different things has enriched our hobby overall.

And, of course, there’s the huge difference that we played on Roll20. We had players on the West Coast US and on the East Coast, and we’ve had players coming in from London, places in Canada, the EU, and Micronesia previously. Being able to pull your group together from all over the world is such a boon when I remember worrying if all of our group would make it just from all over Philadelphia for our weekly session.

What I’m saying with these comparisons, is it’s a great time to be a table-top RPGamer!

DR:E Jumpstart art by Sam Denmark

Final thing about me – I’m going to do Inktober again this year. That’s the challenge to do one drawing in ink every day for the entire month. Any kind of ink. Last year I depicted characters that were all from the MithraukoQuest storyline of my old game world. This time around I’ll be doing characters and creatures that are part of the world, and from different gaming groups’ adventures, that weren’t part of the years the players fought against Count Mithrauko – so look out for my drawrings on social media.

All this, all these years of playing, and the years of reading genre fiction and comic books, the years of TV and movies, of studying fine art and graphics, all go together so I can decide what games we’re publishing, and what seems like it’ll play well at the table, be characterful and immersive, will look really cool, and have visual hooks like page layout and symbols – all of it comes to together and powers up my ability to make sure you have:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

Kickstarter!

Our Creature Collection Kickstarter for Scarred Lands 5e is skittering on creepy-crawly legs towards the next Stretch Goal to add more monsters – that the backers vote on – to the book! The first group of creatures to be added by backer voting are:

Flay Beast

Fleshcrawler

Gray Lancer

Hellfire Bloodshark

Iron Tusker

Love-Scorned Soul

Mist Murderer

Night Tyrant

This book was designed with amazing art by our friends at Handiwork Games, and they’re running the Kickstarter for us on our brand-new Onyx Path Kickstarter page! https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/339646881/scarred-lands-creature-collection-for-5th-edition-rpg

And, we’re running this Kickstarter, too!

The Deviant: The Renegades Kickstarter launched last Thursday and we funded in just a tad over 24 hours and are vengefully slamming through Stretch Goals now! https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/200664283/deviant-the-renegades-a-tabletop-roleplaying-game

Onyx Path Media!

This Friday’s Onyx Pathcast features an interview with Red Moon Rising, one of our favorite actual play groups! Go to https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/ or to your favorite podcast venue!

This week should be the last one where the Onyx Path News goes directly onto YouTube, as soon, Matthew will be streaming directly to Twitch! In this week’s news, Matthew discusses Deviant: The Renegades, Scarred Lands, Vengeance of the Shunned, freelance writer tips, and more! Check out this week’s news here: https://youtu.be/Zf-YB2drW54

Speaking of Twitch, please follow our channel if you haven’t already done so! Our schedule is filled with games including Vampire, Scarred Lands, TC: Aberrant, Pugmire, Scion, Mage: The Awakening, and Hunter: The Vigil, as well as videos on Storytelling advice! Visit www.twitch.tv/theonyxpath and give us a follow, and if you have an Amazon Prime membership and haven’t already subscribed to a Twitch channel for free using it, just type Amazon Prime Twitch into Google and please use it on our channel! The first season of our Scion story is coming to a close this weekend, so thank you to David for running it, and please check out any parts you missed on our YouTube channel

Look forward to October, because we’re going for a special Character Creation Month, where every Saturday we create characters for different games, including Scarred Lands, Deviant, Scion, and more! Remember to find us on Twitch!

Remember, if you miss any content on our Twitch channel, some of it finds its way to our YouTube channel here: www.youtube.com/user/theonyxpath Don’t forget though, that some of that content is Twitch exclusive or belongs to the Storytellers running their games, so don’t miss out and remember to follow us!

The ENnie award winning Red Moon Roleplaying continue their actual play of The Sacrifice, from V5 Chicago by Night, with Klara Herbol as the Storyteller and Matthew Dawkins as a player! Please check them out on www.redmoonroleplaying.com

This week, the Story Told Podcast have created a Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition primer: http://thestorytold.libsyn.com/episode-36-geist-the-sin-eaters-2nd-edition-primer

And here’s the newest Occultists Anonymous content right here, for you Mage: The Awakening fans: Episode 45: Get Out Within the lair of the Seers, the cabal strikes while they still have an advantage. Mage-on-Mage combat! The most harrowing experience the cabal has had yet, threatening mind and body. https://youtu.be/kvTU3Wp8KEs

Episode 46: A Deal Is Struck The cabal recovers from battle and deals with the decision Wyrd made without consulting Songbird or Atratus. Emotions are ragged but there is still Mysteries residing in Lynnewood Hall.https://youtu.be/o5HR_Oj3cjk

If you’ve not been keeping up with our TC: Aberrant actual play, please do give it a look here on our YouTube channel! Collateral Damage is a superb way to introduce yourself to the Trinity Universe through an Aberrant lens: https://youtu.be/WFBBZrUZVkE

And here’s Paws & Claws, our Pugmire actual play! Lots of content for you to watch and interact with: https://youtu.be/ga7wb3ESdEA

It’s been a while since we last promoted them, but Devil’s Luck Gaming are embarking on Season 3 of their Scarred Lands pirates campaign. As one of the best actual play shows around, do yourself a favour and start watching from Season 3. You will not regret it: https://www.twitch.tv/DevilsLuckGaming

Drop Matthew a message via the contact button on matthewdawkins.com if you have actual plays, reviews, or game overviews you want us to profile on the blog!

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

Electronic Gaming!

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

On Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these fiction books:

Our Sales Partners!

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scarred Lands (Pathfinder) books are also on sale at Studio2, and they have the 5e version, supplements, and dice as well!: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/scarred-lands

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And NOW Scion Origin and Scion Hero are available to order!

As always, you can find most of Onyx Path’s titles at DriveThruRPG.com!

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, we’re releasing the EX3 Dragon-Blooded Screen PDF and two more of our monthly Adversaries of the Righteous!

Conventions!

Save Against Fear: October 12th – 14th GameHoleCon: October 31st – November 3rd PAX Unplugged: December 6th – 8th 2020: Midwinter: January 9th – 12th

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Player’s Guide to the Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Contagion Chronicle Jumpstart (Chronicles of Darkness)

N!ternational Wrestling Entertainment (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Creating in the Realms of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Redlines

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Second Draft

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Wraith20 Fiction Anthology (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad (Scarred Lands)

Vigil Watch (Scarred Lands)

Pirates of Pugmire KS-Added Adventure (Realms of Pugmire)

Lunars Novella (Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Development

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Creatures of the World Bestiary (Scion 2nd Edition)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

TC: Aeon Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

TC: Aberrant Reference Screen (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Titanomachy (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Manuscript Approval

Mythical Denizens (Creatures of the World Bestiary) (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

Post-Approval Development

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Scion LARP Rules (Scion)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Editing

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

Let the Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

W20 Shattered Dreams Gift Cards (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

Geist 2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Oak, Ash, and Thorn: Changeling: The Lost 2nd Companion (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Post-Editing Development

Chicago Folio/Dossier (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

TC: Aeon Ready-Made Characters (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

W20 Art Book (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Indexing

Geist 2e (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Dystopia Rising: Evolution core (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

ART DIRECTION FROM MIKE CHANEY!

In Art Direction

Contagion Chronicle

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant

Hunter: The Vigil 2e – Sam on the fulls.

Ex3 Lunars – Contracted. More sketches coming in.

TCfBtS!: Heroic Land Dwellers – LeBlanc on this.

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

Trinity RMCs – Contracted.

Cults of the Blood God (KS) – Contracted.

Chicago Folio – Sending contracts and art notes out.

Mummy 2 (KS) – Characters being worked on, fulls next.

Memento Mori – Contracted.

City of the Towered Tombs – Contracted.

In Layout

They Came from Beneath the Sea!

Dark Eras 2 – Files with Aileen

Trinity Continuum Aeon: Distant Worlds

VtR Spilled Blood – In progress.

DR:E Threat Guide – Helnau’s Guide to Wasteland Beasties

W20 Art Book

DRE Screen

Geist 2e Screen

Proofing

C20 Cup of Dreams

M20 Book of the Fallen – PDF back to Phil for review.

DR:E Jumpstart – Sent to Eschaton for approval.

At Press

Trinity Core Screen – At Studio2.

TC Aeon Screen – At Studio2.

Trinity: In Media Res – PoD proofs coming.

Trinity Core – Printing. PoD proofs ordered.

Trinity Aeon – Printing. PoD proofs ordered.

V5: Chicago – Files sent to printer.

Aeon Aexpansion – Backer PDFs out, errata.

CoM – Witch Queen of the Shadowed Citadel – Backer PDF out to backers, errata gathering.

Signs of Sorcery – PoD proofs ordered.

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

And so we now are in Autumn! Falling into fall! Let’s celebrate the season that starts today where things get really colorful and then die! (OK, nature is just sleeping…really.) And Saturday was, I hear, Batman Day, which works well, especially if you recall the first drive in the Batmobile to the Batcave in Tim Burton’s Batman with the low angle shot up the road with swirling dead autumn leaves in the car’s wake. Lovely, just like the season.

[rainbow-filmnerd]

Big Things are Coming!

Hey Guys! I have several things to talk about in terms of the next few months, and a lot of them are gonna be big!

This week is my last week of my final semester at Manchester Community College (a few weeks ago, I am just done with that place) and on this coming Wednesday, I will have my last day on campus before I have to complete a couple assignments by either Thursday and Saturday (my goal is to finish before I go to work on Friday evening! I will explain more later.). I have two final exams to take; Biology (which I will constantly study for before taking the exam on Tuesday. Gotta get it done before Creative Writing starts. RIP) and US History, which is a take-home exam, and as mentioned previously, I will have to finish it before I go to work on Friday.

On this coming Saturday, my older brother is graduating from college, and my parents and I are going over to Keene for the ceremony. I'm just glad I got the day off at work, because Keene is nearly two hours away from home, and that's just the second reason on why I won't make it in. Next week, the four of us will be headed to New York City from Monday to Thursday (I told my manager that I can't come in on Sunday because I'll be out of town, but she doesn't have to know that I'm leaving on Monday. I'm just hoping I don't have to come in on the 12th. LOL). And due to that, I will not be online on here, Instagram, Tumblr or Twitter, because I don't know if there'll be WiFi at the hotel we're staying at. I will explain more about my NYC trip when I get home.

Aside from work, I have some summer activities in the coming (I will explain more about FanExpo Boston in the next paragraph), such as family trips, the movies (I have to see Endgame. Social media is a freaking minefield when it comes to the movie's spoilers!), maybe Canobie Lake Park, and a Fisher Cats game. On June 21st, my Dad, older brother and I will be attending their "Comic Con Night", and I'll be dressed for the occasion. I decided to dress up as Rebel Eleven from Stranger Things, as seen in the last few episodes of the second season. Overall, I wanted to do a easier cosplay and save the hard work for FanExpo Boston. Plus, Season 3 is premiering on the Fourth of July, not long after the Fisher Cats game, so that should bring some ST hype.

You guys probably know about this by now, but I have plans in going to FanExpo Boston yet again for 2019. I have decided that I'm dressing up as Wirt from Over the Garden Wall, mainly because he was the only idea I had for a cosplay this year at the convention, and I watched the series a few months ago. I do not know if my Dad and I are going on Saturday or Sunday, because as of May 5th, there isn't any announcements of certain panels. And in terms of celebrity meetings, I am heavily considering meeting one this year, and that is FREAKING Sean Astin! I may be meeting 2012!Raphael and Bob Newby himself! There has been some other celebrity announcements, but none of them really got me thinking of meeting them (except maybe David Harbour, who portrays Jim Hopper on ST, but that depends if I still want to meet him and if I'm going on Sunday). I will be working hard on my Wirt cosplay because I have to sew his hat and cape. I did find a tutorial of both by the same person on YouTube, and I'll have to give her a shoutout once I'm happy with the costume pieces' execution.

Lastly, in late August, since I finished two years of MCC, I will be transferring to another school to get my associate's degree. Since I have my heart set on majoring in Film Studies, the closest school for that is in Keene State College. In early March, I was finally admitted as a student and will start my classes in the Fall (I just got them a few days ago, and I'm really excited!). Some KSC stuff will be happening in the summer, mainly preparations and an orientation for transfer students sometime next month.

As a little bonus, and I mentioned it previously, but in honor of TMNT's 35th Anniversary (which was yesterday BTW), Granite State Comic Con is having Kevin Eastman and the four original voice actors of the Turtles (including Rob Paulsen, whom I met last year) as guests at the convention. I am debating whether or not to go, because I don't know who else is set to show up at FanExpo Boston, it is on a weekend while I'm at school (luckily, my class schedule doesn't interfere, but it'll depend on what schoolwork I'll have to get done), and tickets are $10-15 cheaper than the ones at FanExpo Boston (which is $35 per ticket for just one day). If I do decide to go, I'll come home for that weekend (with no plans to dress up!) and meet Kevin Eastman and maybe say hello to Rob again, because I wanna tell him how awesome of a job he's doing as RotTMNT's voice director.

Well, that's all I'm sharing with you guys for now. I apologize if this journal was long, but I have a lot of stuff bond to happen in this short amount of time, and I really wanted to share it with you guys. Also, I have a goal to finish "Beauty and Dangerous", my TMNT fanfiction, before I got to school on Sunday. I will try to post Chapter 11 before the end of the month.

I'll talk to you all later!

[myspoonyart]

My Major Job Fuck-Up

I had an awful night at work, so I feel like I need to vent about it for a bit. If you’d rather not, I’ll put the full story below the cut.

So, I’ve been working at Dairy Queen since the beginning of January, and while I have had some bad moments brought on by me failing to be fast enough to make food or wash dishes (as most of the time I am the only one in the grill area) the worst I’ve felt was just... irritated with a dash of self-loathing and a side of stress? Tonight was different, though.

So, right off the bat, I wasn’t even supposed to work tonight. My schedule had me off for tonight, but someone who also works Grill (we’ll call him Cody) quit before his shift, so I was messaged and asked to come in and cover for him. That wasn’t necessarily a problem on its own. At the very least I’d earn more money for this, right?

Things went mostly fine, but then I went on break, and my manager asked me to also work tomorrow, and I had shifts on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday already, AND I came in when the restaurant was really busy on Wednesday. I also have shifts on Sunday and Monday, so altogether, I have 8 consecutive days of work lined up for me now! Nevermind all the work I need to do for college as well! (That’s when I drew that picture of Toriel, BTW)

So okay, I could deal with that. However, as soon as I was done, I needed to start washing dishes, because the sink was overflowing with them. However, because I was the only one in the kitchen, I ALSO had to keep on top of orders, which is usually standard for my job. I’d much prefer if there were at least two people handling kitchen at a time to cut down on time, and while my manager was helping me through much of my early shift, he left shortly after my break.

Finally, 10 PM, closing time came, so I turned off the ovens and grills and fryers and everything and shifted my focus entirely to washing dishes. Except I was wrong. On Fridays, closing time is apparently 10:30, and I didn’t know this. When a co-worker told me, I ran back to my station to find an order for two double-patty burgers and two large orders of fries, which was already overdue.

I pretty much snapped, and started to yell as I frantically tried to make the food, and then found out that I lacked two patties necessary for one of the burgers. I could not complete the order, and so I broke down crying. My co-workers tried to tell the customer that one of the burgers could not be made and offer him a refund on that, but instead, the customer CANCELLED the entire order, rendering the large amount of fries I made for his order completely worthless!

What I felt was different from any other frustration I endured at work. I wasn’t upset with myself. I was upset with both Cody and the customer for putting me in this position. I was IRATE with both of them, and it left me a blubbering mess, literally on my knees at my station, bawling my eyes out. My co-workers tried to help me feel better, but knowing that I still had dishes to wash, my feelings were out of the question as far as I was concerned. I would not let them get in the way of doing my job. However, the shift lead persuaded me to take a break and just let my emotions out, so I spent about 5 more minutes crying alone in the bathroom.

This was all on top of the fact that I wanted to close fast enough for everyone to be out by 11 PM, so the large amount of dishes in addition to that tremendous setback just destroyed my drive to continue. Obviously, I still had to do my job, but the shift lead offered to help me, even though she doesn’t handle the kitchen area normally. I felt like I didn’t deserve their help, and that I hadn’t earned their sympathies in the slightest, but truth be told, I’m just glad they were showing it. I had fully expected them to berate me for acting like such a baby, but they assured me they had been in similar positions in the past.

I just hope to God I get paid overtime for all this. But then again, considering the huge amount of food I wasted, it’s probably all gonna get taken out of my next paycheck. Now I’m filthy, and miserable, and tired, and just... done with everything. And I’ve gotta go back for more tomorrow... I just hope to God it’s not as horrible as tonight. Though, I’d imagine this would be pretty hard to top in that regard...

[myloveholtzy]

camping out for BILLIAM HADER 3/17/18

OUT OF THE 8 TIMES IVE BEEN IN THE SNL AUDIENCE, THIS WAS THE BEST I FEEL FUCKING BLESSED

FIRST OFF this was the first time @jamesxfallon and I met irl and she’s amazing so go follow

She got in line at 8:00pm Thursday and I got there at like 8:30 so we were in line for 35 hours. Honestly, it was worth it lol we were the first 2 in line!

Wasn’t that cold, I had a bunch of layers on and used a bunch of hand warmers. Slept on the ground a lot and I’m not even sore

SO I MET BILL HADER. THAT WAS PRETTY FUCKING AWESOME. He’s my favorite former cast member asdfgdjsalk couldn’t stop shaking after I met him. Right before jamesxfallon and I got to the line, snl started hinting that he would visit on Friday

About 2 hours before he came out, some people set up a sign next to us that said we were going to be recorded for snl

Then about 30ish minutes before, one of the pages came out to hype us up. “We have a surprise for you guys! It rhymes with.......Will...Wader. Will Wader!” SHE WAS REALLY REALLY PRETTY AND SUPER SWEET and we talked a little bit about how I keep registering for certain classes so that I’ll have Fridays off. (btw i just registered for all of my classes next school year and got Fridays off again bc I’m crazy and way too committed to snl)

SO BILL CAME OUT AND SHOOK MY HAND AND SAID “HI IM BILL!” LIKE YEAH I KNOW I LOVE YOU

^I look way too happy but owell. When he came back I asked him to sign my Stefon card from the SNL Playing Cards! Think I might’ve been the only one that asked for an autograph lol

And then they handed out chocolate bars with his face on the wrapper lmao and donuts! They actually filmed that part but I guess they cut it out bc we all sounded fake and way too excited 😅

Also I saw Alex on Friday night when he was leaving and said hi to him

Oh! Alex! Hi! Hi! asdfjksa sorry, I’m a big fan! Thank you!

Got to sit in the front row of the center section again!!! You can’t even see me, but I’m there

Things I remember:

Steven Spielberg walked right by me when I was waiting outside the Peacock Lounge!!!!!!!

Che does a bit where he asks the audience if anyone voted for Trump (he has done this like every single time I’ve gone) and no one answers and he makes joke about it, but this time some guy LOUDLY cheered and Che was shook “That’s never worked before... well I don’t care who you voted for, because we’re all here for one reason, and that is to laugh!”

Cecily using a weird voice at one point during the warm-up song asdfgksj i love her sm

flipped my shit when i saw fred armisen

Kate was standing in front of the green screen dressed as sessions and she walked in a circle and pretended to trip a crew member (she just stuck her foot out and he didn’t even move bc she’s so tiny lol he just laughed and swatted her away)

YALL I FLIPPED MY SHIT WHEN I SAW THE CALIFORNIANS SET

before the irish dating show, bill was just sitting in the chair and he looked at the audience and started waving at us and like kicked his foot out

He actually waved at the audience a lot! 3 or 4 times

Before Arcade Fire’s first song they asked everyone to stand up to keep up the energy. I thought that was really cool! I’ve never seen a musical guest ask the audience to participate like that! Really enjoyed their performance

Before introducing Arcade Fire a second time, Bill stood on stage and just made weird sounds like “WOO WOOOOO” and i think jamesxfallon wooed back and he heard and wooed again

I SCREAMED SO MUCH WHEN STEFON CAME OUT ASDFGHJKL i sent snl a whole essay about how much i love the show and i started it with a joke about stefon and thats how i won tickets to my first snl taping SO FULL CIRCLE GUYS

my friend insists that she can hear me screaming when stefon shows up lmao who knows

YOU CAN HEAR jamesxfallon SCREAM THRICE WHEN JOHN MULANEY SHOWS UP (this is your legacy and im proud of you) she called it on thursday night that john would probably show up

JON HAMM SHOWED UP OUT OF NO WHERE AT THE END OF THE SHOW SO THAT WAS COOL

COLIN WALKED OUT WITH SCARJO ASDFGHJKL

[drabbles-and-shit]

The Mailman is Really Attractive and Dean is Smitten

When Dean first saw the new mailman that Saturday afternoon, his body had such an immediate and visceral reaction, he had to excuse himself to his bedroom for a little quality time with his right hand.

Seriously, it was insane; nothing like that had ever happened to Dean. He only figured out that he was attracted to both guys and guys about a year ago, but he’d never even had that sort of response to a girl. And what’s worse? It was one of the best experiences he’s ever had jacking off.

Like, no shit, that mailman was the hottest human Dean ever laid eyes on, and he wasn’t even Dean’s type! Dean had always gone for the petite guys, because you know, he was a dom. Well, with guys he was. He had actually started experimenting letting girls top him, and much to his own embarrassment, he actually really liked it. There was something about someone else being in control that was hot as fuck. But, just girls. He wanted nothing in his asshole, ever, thank you very much. But anyway, even though he only ever had pursued twink-types, the mailman was buff as fuck. He had looked like he was about Dean’s height, and the summer heat-induced sweat made for a uniform that clung to his body just so Dean could see rippling muscle underneath. And the shorts, no matter how silly looking for being as short as they were, let Dean see the legs of either a runner who swims in his spare time or just the legs of an actual Adonis. And his forearms! God, so strong and tanned and--Dean noticed he was developing another situation down south and forced himself to concentrate on gross things like old people making out or his brother Sam’s face. Good, good; the situation went back down.

~***~

An uneventful week later, and Dean was back looking out his front window, shamelessly watching and waiting for the new mailman. He had no idea if he was actually going to come around again; hell, he might have just been filling in that one day for the old guy that Dean normally saw bringing the mail.

But Dean’s curiosity was rewarded, because after about ten minutes of casual spying, he noticed the mailman walking up the sidewalk with his messenger bag over one shoulder, radiating sexual appeal. God, he was just as hot as last week.

Oh my god, wait, he walked by the mailbox and towards the door. He was coming to the door. He probably had a package or something. But not the porno kind. Shit, what if he saw Dean last week? Dean jumped behind his couch as fast as humanly possible and tried to not breathe, because nobody was home. No one. Was. Home.

The doorbell rang, and Dean sucked his breath in and froze. Shit, the TV was on. He had completely forgotten it, and now the sexy mailman was going to know he was hiding like a kid afraid of Jehovah’s Witnesses, and he was going to judge him ughhhh. Suffice to say, Dean was fucking embarrassed.

He waited a solid five minutes before sneaking back to the window and checking the mailman was gone before opening his front door and grabbing the package off the step. His embarrassment was forgotten quickly, because it was his Star Trek phaser from ThinkGeek! Charlie was going to be sooooo jealous, and he couldn’t fucking wait to gloat. He snapped a picture of it and shot it off to her.

Dean: Looks like I win the gayness contest, because I can set phasers to STUN #2fab4u

Charlie: Oh my god, it came!!

Charlie: You had better bring that to work Monday so I can play with it

Dean: Only if you promise to not break it

Charlie: Btw did you see the hottie today??

Dean: Duh where did you think the package came from?

Charlie: DID YOU TALK TO HIM?!?!

Dean: You kidding? No way, Jose

Charlie: Ugh you’re no fun

Charlie: Wait. I have an idea! You should write him a letter and put it in your mailbox so he can read it when he brings your mail!!

Dean: Do you even know me? Charmando, I wouldn’t do something like that if my life depended on it

Charlie: You’re such a scaredy cat, Winchester

Dean: And proud

~***~

Drunk Dean sometimes did things that Sober Dean had to pay for, especially when his best friend/arch nemesis Charlie was involved. They always went for drinks together after work on Fridays, and somehow Dean always ended up being the only one of the two of them that did stupid, drunk person stuff. He was beginning to suspect that maybe she didn’t actually even drink, just pretended to so that she could talk his more malleable alter ego into doing what she wanted him to. Like, just a random example, writing a note to the sexy mailman.

He was going to kill her. Saturday morning met him with a skull splitting headache, and more importantly, oodles of regret. Because yes, he could vaguely remember sitting down with a pen and a piece of paper last night and writing… something. God, he couldn’t remember what the hell he had written. Maybe he had enough time to run out to the mailbox and take it out before it was too late!

Dean pulled on his sweatpants and charged out into the painfully bright midday sun. Despite his body’s many protests, he made it to the mailbox in record time, but it was for nothing, because when he opened it up, the note was gone and had been replaced by what looked like a bill and some coupons for pizza. He couldn’t really be sure, because his eyes felt like he was stabbing them full of needles. He defeatedly walked back into his house and pulled out his phone.

Dean: Dude. What happened last night. Tell me or I’m going to send your girlfriend your prom photos

He waited for a response while chewed discontentedly on a piece of cold bacon from the fridge and sipping a glass of water. He didn’t have to wait for long though, and he soon heard the telltale R2-D2 beep that was Charlie’s text alert noise.

Charlie: You were so plastered, my man. It was wild.

Charlie: I take it you only just woke up and didn’t have time to get the letter out of the box?

Dean: Shit, so that really happened? Dear god, tell me I didn’t write anything too embarrassing?

Charlie: You politely told him you wanted to suck his dick

Dean: I’ve got the picture ready to send!

Charlie: Ugh, fine. No, all you said was that you thought he looked nice and were wondering what happened to the old guy who used to bring your mail. Tbh it was pretty cute. I love drunk you

Dean sighed in relief. It was still as embarrassing as balls, but maybe the guy will think Dean has a kid or something and they wrote it. He can only hope at this point.

~***~

When Dean got home from work Monday evening and opened up the mailbox, his hopes that the mailman would just ignore the letter were proven useless.

Sitting there in the box, on top of a classic car magazine he subscribed to, was a small blue envelope with no stamp and just his first name in rather lovely script in the middle. He ripped it open before he even got inside, because holy fuck, there’s no one who would drive by his house just to put a letter in my mail other than Mr. Sexypants. It read:

Dear Dean,

I’m guessing by your handwriting and subject matter that you’re either a child or a drunk man. If it’s the former, please tell your parents that I am not a pedophile. Please. If you’re an adult and just have terrible handwriting, I’m sorry for touching on a sore subject.

Anyway, Cain, your previous mail carrier, was only working your route temporarily. He actually is one of the higher-ups for the USPS and was delivering mail as a sort of extended vacation from management. Odd, I know.

I appreciate that you think I look nice, and if you’re the adult male who lives at this address, I think you do too. If you’re a child, I’m sure you look nice, but in a non-pedophilic way.

Yours,

Castiel

Oh my god, Dean was in love. Haha, just kidding. He’s not in love; what are you talking about? Totally not in love. Nope, not at all. He lunged inside, pulled off his jacket and tie, and began furiously debating whether or not to tell Charlie about this. On the one hand, she’s his only real friend besides his younger brother, who is constantly busy with lawyer-things. But on the other hand, she would totally gloat about this for the rest of her life. But fuck it, he needs to talk to someone about this, because he never has romance in his life!

Dean: Omg you’ll never believe what happened\\

Charlie: Ooh! What??!

Dean: Mr. Double Stuffed Hotness is named Castiel, and I might want to marry him

Charlie: HE WROTE BACK?!?! It’s fate, my young grasshopper

Dean: I’m gonna send you a pic of the letter he wrote back so you can help me figure out what to write back

\

Charlie: You had better let me be your best man!! AND let me officiate!!! I’m already planning my speech

Dean: Don’t get ahead of yourself… but I’m actually kind of psyched rn

And so the planning began. Eventually, they decided on a note that read the following:

Dear Castiel,

As you deduced, I was drunk. Don’t worry, I’ll tell my parents you aren’t a pedophile anyway, just in case. Of course, they’re both in their 60s and will probably also assume I’m drunk, but better safe than sorry.

Thank you for saying I look nice, though I can’t imagine when you’ve seen me. I’m normally at work when you bring the mail (around 1:30pm, right?), so have you seen me on a Saturday? Okay, you don’t need to answer, just in case you’re actually a stalker or something. It’s never good to confront the bad guy in horror movies, and I’ve learned my lesson.

Hey, is your name really Castiel, or is that a pseudonym? I googled it, and it’s the name of the Angel of Thursday? What’s so special about Thursdays?

Live long and prosper,

Dean

~***~

Dear Dean,

I’m very glad I won’t be going to jail for calling a child attractive. You can probably hear my sigh of relief from there.

I can neither confirm nor deny when/where I have seen you. Also, are you calling me the antagonist of a horror film? If so, please enlighten me on which one, because I’m rather a fan of being scared shitless, and I’m sure seeing myself as the murderer will make an horror viewing experience even more terrifying.

And yes, my name is really Castiel. Let’s just say my parents were hippies. Many people call me Cas, though, and my siblings call me Cassie. I don’t like my siblings very much.

What about you? Why are you named Dean? Did your parents hope you would create a list of exceptional people? Or perhaps they wanted you to grown up to resemble Dean Martin?

I’m sorry, I don’t know where all that rude sass came from; it’s been a long day.

Khaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan,

Cas

~***~

Mr. Spock,

I had a girlfriend named Cassie once! Sort that information away for a future test, I suppose. How many siblings do you have? I one brother, and he can be such a bitch sometimes, so I definitely get where you’re coming from.

As it happens, I’m named after my grandmother, Deanna. And I swear to god, if you make fun of me for that, I will, um, do something… I don’t know exactly what yet, but I’ll figure it out, and it’ll be awful, I promise!

So, is it really that hard being a mailman? (You said it had been a rough day.) I’m a mechanic, by the way. If you ever need to know anything about cars, just hit me up, and I’ll be happy to help. For a price… Ha, just kidding. Maybe…

Dammit Cas, I’m a mechanic, not a doctor!

Dean

~***~

Bones,

I find it slightly perturbing that my nickname is also the name of your ex. But I always ace tests, so I guess I’m glad to know it anyway.

I have 5 siblings. I know. Hippies don’t believe in birth control, I guess. But yes, family of 8, from Michael the oldest, down to Sam the youngest. Since I’m on the subject, I suppose I might as well list off all my siblings. There’s Mike, Gabe, Luce, me, Anna, and Sam, ranging in ages from 37 to 21. Oh, I’m the ripe old age of 29, by the way. Not that that matters. Jesus, this entire letter is me talking about my family, sorry.

And no, it’s not hard being a mailman, but it is hard having to take your beloved cat to the veterinarian because they’re refusing to eat, not having bowel movements, and rolling around on the floor, meowing in pain. The poor guy had a blockage and almost died. It was a tough day.

I might just take you up on your offer to help explain things about cars, because I am completely clueless about them. I drive an old clunker that eats gas money like nobody’s business, and I really need to get a new car as soon as possible.

Have you been at the Romulan ale again??

Cas

~***~

Castiel,

I know I signed my last note with a Bones reference, but make no mistake, I am 100% Kirk, and I would appreciate it if you referred to me as such. Thank you for not forcing me to pursue legal action.

Dude, my younger brother is named Sam! Well, technically he’s named Samuel, after our grandfather, but still. Weird. And I’m 32, so that’s cool I guess.

I’m sorry to hear about your cat; that sounds pretty awful. I’ve never really had pets, and I’m actually allergic to cats, but I remember when Sammy’s dog was hit by a car and how distraught he was. I’m guessing your cat is all right now, though? If so, I’m glad. If not, sorry for rubbing salt in the wound.

Dude, do not drive that car. Like, stop it now. Please, for the sake of car lovers everywhere. Take it down to Singer’s Auto Salvage Yard; Bobby is a friend of mine, and if you tell him I sent you, he’ll give you a good price for it, and then you can use that money to buy something that’s not a piece of shit.

*funny Star Trek reference here*

Captain James Tiberius Kirk

~***~

Jim,

Can you sense me rolling my eyes? Because there’s some serious ocular oscillation going on right now in reference to your threats.

And I shortened my Sam’s name, too. His full name is Samandriel. Hippies, am I right?

Yes, my cat is fine, thank Talos. He is my best friend, and I don’t think I would be able to function properly if something happened to him. He’s a black shorthair named Toothless, by the way. Yes, I’m a basic bitch. Bite me.

I’ll try and take your advice about the car. I think my car is actually the automobile form of Sauron’s ring of power, because every time I’ve tried to get rid of it, it talks me into keeping it. I know in my heart that it needs to be torn apart for scraps, that it is taking advantage of me and should be destroyed before it does something terrible, but it’s mine. My own. My...precious…

Oh, my biggest problem is that if I sell her, I don’t know anything about buying cars, so I’m afraid someone will take advantage of my naivete and sell me an equally shitty car for a ridiculous price. Any suggestions?

*I can do this too*

Spock Spock Spock-ity Spock

~***~

Spockity,

God, I wish my parents had been hippies. Instead they were hippos. Yep, I was adopted by a pair of hippopotami at the age of four. Don’t believe me? Ask the Topeka Zoo, and they’ll corroborate my story. (Please don’t actually do that; they might remember me from when I was a teenager and broke in there to try and pet the giraffes.)

And I will never judge anyone for loving How To Train Your Dragon, because that movie was legendary. Toothless is the cutest dragon probably ever, and Hiccup is such a dreamboat.

Um, we definitely need to get rid of that car. Do not take me for some conjurer of cheap tricks! I’m trying to help you. And speaking of helping you, if you find a car and want to know just how swindled you’re going to be, just send me the information, and I can let you know if you should buy it or not!

So… what kind of music do you like? I’m a big classic rock fan, and if you aren’t I will become determined to change that about you.

Can we up switch references? Maybe Princess Bride or something?

Princess Buttercup

~***~

Buttercup,

I find your story inconceivable. But did you truly grow up in Kansas? Personally, I grew up in the wilds of Washington; Seattle, actually.

And good; I would be very upset with you if you didn’t love Toothless and Hiccup, though I must say Hiccup is not exactly my type. I like my men a little older than he (recall that I’m not a pedophile), and I think any man I may date should definitely be my size or larger, or else I might kill them accidentally in bed. Huh, I guess we haven’t really talked about sexuality ever, so sorry if that made you uncomfortable.

I would greatly appreciate it if you would actually send me your phone number or email or something, so I could send you the information on a car I’m seriously considering buying. If you’d rather not hand out such personal information, I completely understand though.

I confess I haven’t listened to much classic rock. I mostly listen to classical music, though I’ve been delving into the genre of lofi hiphop, and I actually really enjoy it.

As you wish,

Vizzini

~***~

Vizzini,

You keep using that word; I do not think it means what you think it means…

Yes, I grew up in Kansas, a little town called Lawrence to be precise. And the bit about breaking into the zoo was real too, so please don’t report me.

And honestly, I’m kind of in a weird experimental stage with my sexuality right now. I know, that’s supposed to happen during college, but maybe I’m just not a normal guy, all right? Anyway, I think I’ve officially decided I’m bisexual, but who knows? Romance is tiring, but sex is fun, and I don’t really mind who the hole belongs to. Jesus, that sounded awful and disgusting; sorry. I’m not even really like that any more. I haven’t had a hookup for like three months, which has got to be some kind of record. Sorry, this I should stop writing while I have the chance.

Totally send me the deets about the car, man. My number is 1-866-907-3235

Dude, I’m going to indoctrinate you. You fucking need to listen to classic rock; it’s the stuff of gods. Maybe I’ll make you a mixtape or something so you can listen to all the best songs. Weird question: do you have a tape player? I’m kind of old fashioned, so yeah, I’m going to make you a cassette tape with my favorite Zepp tracks on it.

Mahwage, dah bwessed awangment,

The Dread Pirate Roberts

~***~

For some reason, it was taking Cas a long time to get back to Dean. They had kind of worked out an unspoken schedule by this point; one of them put a letter in the box Monday, the other responded by Wednesday, and then the first sent back a response the Friday of the same week. Basically three letter a week for the past month or so. No, that’s not weird or creepy for two adult men to do at all.

Dean had dropped off that last letter on a Monday, but no reply came on Wednesday. He tried to not let it bother him, thinking Cas was probably busy or something. But then there wasn’t a reply Thursday or Friday either, and he started to get a little miffed. The least Cas could have done was to text him now that he had his number, but noooo. Unfortunately, Dean had to be out of town that Saturday, so no confrontation could happen over the 1:30 mail delivery.

The next Saturday rolled around with no word from Cas again, and Dean was starting to get legitimately worried. He would have understood if the guy took some time off maybe for being sick or something, but two weeks? Nobody takes two weeks off, especially without telling their… friend? Suddenly, Dean’s ridiculous number of insecurities started blaring at him. What if he and Cas weren’t friends? What if he didn’t actually mean anything to Cas at all? He probably was just another drain on Cas’ time, and Cas had finally decided he’d had enough and didn’t want to talk to Dean anymore. Hell, he might have requested a different route because Dean was harassing him. Shit, of course all this was too good to be true. Dean never made friends; Charlie was the only acception to that painful trend, and he had no idea why she still hung out with him.

Dean knew those thoughts too well; he knew his own self-loathing always came around and wouldn’t leave until he started thinking about other things. So, he thought about Cas. It was almost 1:30, two weeks since he’d heard from him last, and he decided to camp out at the mailbox and wait for whoever came. He had to know if Cas was all right, at least. The guy was his friend, even if maybe Cas didn’t see him as one.

He didn’t have long to wait before seeing his old mailman (Cain, was it?) peddling a sleek bicycle down the sidewalk with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

“Um, hey, sorry to bother you. Cain, is it?” Dean fidgeted, feeling awkward as fuck.

“Yes, that’s me. Can I help you with something?” Huh, okay, Cain seemed like a pretty chill guy. Maybe Dean could actually avoid a panic attack from doing something this wild.

“Uh, yeah. Do you know Castiel? He brought mail on this route for a while? I just haven’t seen him in a while, and I was worried that something happened.” Dean was talking too fast, but he couldn’t help it, okay?

“I know Castiel, and I know he took off a few weeks. Don’t know why though; maybe a vacation or something. I wouldn’t worry about it though, if I were you.”

Oh Dean was gonna worry about it, no doubt about that. Because wow, he was glad Cas was all right and not dead somewhere, but Jesus, what kind of douchebag friend goes on an extended vacation without so much as a goodbye?? So yeah, Dean was going to worry about what he did wrong and why he never could keep friends, and why he was such a fucked up excuse for a human being. Awesome.

~***~

Dean was depressed. Charlie tried cheering him up but to no avail. He was just depressed. He actually took the day off on Monday, because he was such a fucking sissy who couldn’t deal with anything. God, no wonder Cas didn’t care about him. No one should care about him; he was so pathetic.

The doorbell rang. Dean lifted his head from the pillow it had been buried in for the entire first half of the day and decided he probably ought to answer the door, seeing as there was a 98% chance it was Charlie with pie and beer and a chick flick to make him feel better. God, she was too good for him; he didn’t deserve such a good friend.

He pulled the door open and was greeted by the invisible man; wait no, there was a package and a pile of mail on the front step. He sighed and picked it all up, then promptly dropped it all on the floor, shut the door, and collapsed on the couch. He didn’t feel like looking at the mail. He didn’t feel like doing anything except for sleeping. Ugh.

But maybe that package would cheer him up. He rolled his eyes at the tiny optimistic voice in his head and then rolled right off the couch and crawled to the pile of mail. He grabbed package without so much as glancing over the letters, probably all bills, and violently tore it open. Ooh, it was those custom leather-bound journals he ordered off Etsy. One was embroidered with his Hogwarts House logo (Hufflepuff and proud!) and the other matched it but had Charlie’s House (Ravenclaw, more like Raven...dumb! Good one). One of the few things he was ashamed of about being a sissy was doing things like buying matching things for himself and his best friend, or having sleepovers with his best friend, or planning his future wedding with his best friend. ANYway.

Okay, cool, the opening the package plan had worked! Dean was feeling better already. But then he saw it. Underneath the topmost bill was a little blue envelope. Dean’s hand had never moved so fast (yes, never).

Sure enough, it was from Cas. But unlike all the other letters Dean had gotten from him, this one was stamped and had both mailing and return addresses on it. Without stopping to think about what the fuck that could possibly mean, Dean ripped open the letter and read:

Dear Dean,

I am so sorry I haven’t written you in so long. To put it succinctly, my father had a heart attack, and I had to go to to Washington to be with him. The past two weeks have been about family and rekindling our relationships with each other. My father passed away two nights ago, and the funeral was yesterday. I know we never really talk about serious things, but I hope you won’t mind if I tell you this.

Honestly, as heartbroken as I am to see my father pass, I’m grateful that it has brought my family back together. All of us were there with him at the end, all of us were gathered around his bedside as he breathed his last. And he went peacefully, so I’m also grateful for that. I’ll be staying up here for another few days before flying back, and then I’ll be back to work as normal. I put my address that I’m staying at while I’m in Seattle as the return address, but I’ll add my home address too at the bottom of the page; it only feels fair that since I know where you live, you should know where I do too.

Again, I’m sorry if I made you worry at all. I know you might not see me the same way, but you’ve actually become one of my closest friends over the past month. What that says about my personal life? That I’m very awkward and antisocial, that’s what it says.

I hope to talk to you soon,

Castiel

Thank the fucking lord. Dean let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and grabbed his phone.

Dean: Cas is okay!! His dad died but he’ll be back soon

Charlie: Wait, his dad died, but he’ll be back soon? Who is he, god? I mean, Jesus. Whatever, I’m not required to make good religious jokes

Dean: Haha, very funny

Charlie: But yay!! I’m so glad for you!! Maybe now you’ll stop sulking like a little lost puppy

Dean: I make no promises

~***~

As promised, Cas was back by the end of the week, and Dean couldn’t stop grinning when he looked out his window Saturday to see Cas walking up to his mailbox.

He pulled the door open and ran out, unprecedented behavior from the man afraid to make eye contact with girl scouts selling cookies outside the front of the grocery store.

“Cas! It’s good to see you, man!” He went in for a hug, but then it got a little too real, so it ended up being one of those awkward side-hugs that no one really likes but everyone has to deal with.

Cas smiled back widely, and Dean got a little lost in his eyes. Wow, he’d never actually seen Cas up close, and now that he did, he could tell that Cas was actually the most attractive man alive. His ocean blue eyes drew Dean in, and he found himself completely phasing out to the point that Cas had to repeat a question three times before he could respond.

“Sorry, um, what was that?” Was the response. Classic.

“I asked if you were all right; you look a little phased.” No shit, Sherlock.

“Uh yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

“I was a little worried I’d scared you off with my last letter, seeing as how you didn’t write back.” Shit, Dean had forgotten to.

“Fuck, I totally forgot that I had your address. I guess I’m not used to actually properly sending letters, not just putting them in the mailbox.” They shared a quiet laugh before Dean went on, somberly. “I’m really sorry about your dad. My mom passed a few years back, and I know how painful it is.”

Cas smiles sadly. “Yeah, it was rough, but like I said in the letter, it really brought my family together, and I’m sure dad would have been happy to see the impact he had on us.” He paused, and Dean could there was something more rolling around in his mind, so he decided to stay silent and let Cas finish his thought. “It’s funny, he was such an absent father when we were growing up. I know he was different when he and my mom were first married; I think he was a carpenter or something, and he was always at home with Mike and Luce when they were little. But then his business took off, and by the time I was in diapers, he was hardly ever around. Business trips, late nights working, early morning meetings, it never ended. It kind of tore our family apart, bit by bit. First, Gabe ran away when he was 16. He didn’t get in touch with any of us for almost a whole year. Later, he told me he just couldn’t stand to see all the arguing and pain in our family. Then it was Luce, angrily storming off to college and refusing to answer our calls or emails. He loved all of us, his siblings so much, and I think watching dad’s absence affect us younger kids really took a toll on him.”

Suddenly, Cas’ eyes flashed up, and his cheeks grew pink. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I’ve just been standing here, telling you my life’s story. And fuck, I’m on the clock; I really need to run.”

Before Cas could move, Dean grabbed his wrist. “Wait, can you give me your phone number? I put mine in my last letter to you, but I’m guessing you didn’t get that.”

They exchanged numbers as quickly as possible, and Cas ran off towards the next house on his route. Dean grinned as he watched his run away and immediately send him a trial-run text.

Dean: If you gave me a fake number, I’m going to go to your house and shave your cat

Off in the distance (only about 200 feet, to be perfectly honest), Cas stopped and looked down at his phone, and Dean could not hold back a huge laugh.

Castiel: Toothless would kill your sorry ass

~***~

Regina George,

Oh my god, you’re so fetch.

Sorry Cas, I don’t know why, but I really felt like I had to change our theme to Mean Girls. Sue me. (Also, you better have fucking watched Mean Girls, or there will be hell to pay.)

So, my friend Charlie talked me into this, but I guess I kind of agreed with her that I ought to do it. And you can totally say no thanks, not interested, and it’ll be completely fine! But, I was wondering if maybe you’d be interesting in going on a date with me sometime…?

Wow, I am a child. Well, a teenage girl, to be precise. Oh shit, and you keep telling me you’re not a pedophile, so you’re definitely not going to want to go out with me now that you know my true identity. Well this is a fine mess I’ve gotten myself into.

Have you sold that car yet? You should really get on that.

Yours forever,

Amy Poehler

~***~

Mother,

Of course I’ve seen Mean Girls, I’m not that out of the proverbial loop.

And would you please thank your friend Charlie for me? I’ll admit, I’ve wanted to go on a date with you for a quite a while now, but ye ole’ social ineptitude wouldn’t let me ask. Maybe text me when you get this, and we can work out a time/place? Saturday nights are usually best for me, considering I’m always off Sundays.

Please Dean, if you’re a teenage girl, then I am too, and then it’s not pedophilia.

And no, I haven’t sold it yet, because I haven’t decided on a new one to buy yet, because in case you hadn’t noticed, my life has been a little hectic lately. I’ll try and text you the details on the car I’m looking at soon, though.

Fours yorever,

Reginers

~***~

Saturday night is there before Dean can get his shit together. He had frantically texted Charlie minutes after making the date with Cas asking her what he should wear and how he should act and whether he should just run away and never come back. You know, normal stuff.

In the end, he and Cas had decided on meeting an a small burger place near Cas’ place, so Dean knew he shouldn’t wear something too fancy. But he didn’t want to wear just his every minute of every day bluejeans, t-shirt, and flannel combo. So, with some sagely advice from Charlie, he’s decided on his most flattering pair of grey jeans and a button down maroon shirt, freshly ironed. Honestly, not half bad, even by his self-degrading standards. He toyed with the idea of a grey tie with the top two buttons of his collar undone, and decided it was too snazzy for him to refuse.

A 15-minute drive later, he was walking into the restaurant and looking around for Cas. And boy, did he find him. Cas was wearing a tight pair of black jeans, an Egyptian blue button down, and a black waistcoat, and holy fuck, Dean was having another southward situation just at the sight. He repeated the words ‘puss, flesh, old-people skin,’ in his head for half a minute until everything was hunky dory again, then made his way to the bar where Cas was standing.

“You look great, Cas.” Dean grinned when he saw Cas blatantly checking his ass. The good old grey jeans never fail.

“As do you, Dean,” Cas responded, his pupils mildly larger than probably normal.

They made their way over to a small corner booth and waived down a waitress. Adorably enough, they both ordered the same bacon cheeseburger, and in the time it took for their food to arrive, they discussed possible future heart health and how they were both going to die eventually, so it might as well be from eating delicious food.

“Dude, if bacon’s what gets me, I win,” Dean remarked right before taking a huge bite into his burger.

Cas harrumphed in agreement, then moaned around the first bite of his own burger.

Uh oh. Turned out, visual Cas is nothing compared to audible Cas in terms of making Dean’s nether regions all kinds of interested. To put it simply, Dean was sitting at a booth, on a first date, a burger in his mouth, almost completely hard. Awesome.

“Dean, are you okay?” Shit, Cas apparently noticed the panicked look on Dean’s face, and Dean’s face burned red.

“Um, yeah, I’m fine. I, um, just kinda have a little… situation. Downstairs. God this is so embarrassing; I’m soooooo, so sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

Cas was quiet for a second, then burst out with infectious laughter, and Dean couldn’t help but join in. “Oh my god, that’s hilarious. Was it become of the groan I just made or…?”

Dean ran a hand through his hair before responding, “Um, yeah. Fuck. Look, I haven’t gotten

laid in close to three months, so cut me a little slack. And honestly, I’m really sorry. I wanted this

to be a really special first date, but I feel like I kind of ruined it.” Like Dean ruined everything.

“Oh, no no no! Really, I understand much better than you’d think,” Cas assuaged his fear and sorrow with a comforting pat on the back on the hand. “It’s honestly fine. Now, do you need to go to take a trip to the bathroom, or are you all right now?”

Dean informed Cas that apparently humiliation was not one of his kinks, and the situation had resolved itself, and they were able to go on with their dinner like it had never happened.

But you know, it did happen, and Dean hadn’t had sex in months, and Cas was the hottest date Dean had ever had. SO yeah. Things happen.

~***~

After an amazing evening of burgers, pie, beer, and literal hours of conversation, they decided it was definitely time for them to part ways. Cas had walked to the restaurant, so Dean offered to drop him off on his way home, and Cas gratefully accepted.

The car ride was normal, if slightly tense. They were both slightly buzzed and totally attracted to each other, after all. But it was chill.

Dean pulled up to Cas’ home, a cozy-looking apartment complex, and parked his car in one of the visitor spots. They both climbed out and walked together up to Cas’ door.

“So, I had an awesome time tonight,” Dean half-mumbled, really trying his best to appear like he wasn’t desperate to go out with Cas again as soon as possible. “You think you might want to do this again sometime? I mean, really, I totally get it if like I’m not your type or you’re just not into me or you think I’m too--”

Cas slammed their faces (particularly their lips) together, effectively cutting off Dean’s self-abusive train of thought and filling his mind with only the pure bliss of Cas’ warm mouth on his, their tongues fighting for dominance. Cas’ mouth tasted amazing, like apple pie and happiness. Dean hungrily chased the flavour, and he couldn’t get enough. They broke for air for just a minute before Cas wheeled Dean around and up against his apartment door, weaving one hand into his hair and grabbing Dean’s own hand with the other, pinning it up against the door above his head.

Dean had never felt less in control, and it was amazing. He could feel the strength in Cas’ body shoved up against his own. He felt vulnerable, but for once in his life, he was okay with that vulnerability.

Cas moved his mouth down from Dean’s mouth to his neck, peppering the skin with hot, wet kisses. He settled on one spot, the meaty place between Dean’s neck and right shoulder and assaulted it with licks, kisses, nibbles, and sucks. He was driving Dean crazy, and Dean honestly couldn’t stop himself from moaning out, “Uhhhh, Cas…”

Maybe it was something about how he broke the silence, but Cas suddenly stilled and looked up at Dean, alarm filling his eyes. “Oh my god, Dean, I’m sorry. I’ve never done this before; I don’t know what came over me.” He stepped back from Dean and rubbed his hands over his face.

“What? Why’d you stop?” Dean replied, feeling suddenly abandoned.

Cas locked eyes with Dean and said very seriously, “I have no idea what I’m doing, Dean. I’ve never had sex; hell, I’ve never been in a relationship that lasted longer than a week. And you’re this amazing, attractive man who has had so much sex and knows all about it, and I’m just going to embarrass myself and it’ll be terrible and--”

This time, Dean satisfies the cliche, cutting off Cas’ river of doubts with a kiss into which he poured all the words he wanted to say but didn’t know how: that Cas made him feel safe and comfortable and like he could be himself and still feel appreciated and cared for and special and important.

Cas seemed to get the message, and he quickly took control once again, holding Dean tight in his arms and kissing him with more passion than is in an entire episode of Casa Erotica.

Dean had been hard for a while now, and as Cas clung to him, he could feel that Cas was in about the same spot as he was. But shit, if Cas was a virgin, that would put a lot of weight on Dean’s shoulders, right? He wanted to make it perfect for Cas, because that’s what Cas deserved.

But apparently, Cas had a completely different idea. He pulled away from Dean, and with his pupils completely blown wide and dark, moved his mouth to Dean’s ear and whispered, “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Huh, well, Dean realized at that moment he was completely, 100%, no doubt about it, a bottom. And apparently, Cas’ self-confidence boosted itself threefold when he was horny, so yeah. That was pretty sweet.

Cas fumbled with his apartment keys and opened the front door before pushing Dean inside and slamming the door behind them. He kiss-walked (that thing where people are joined at the mouth but still manage to move around, that’s honestly kind of impressive if you think about it) Dean to what Dean assumed could only be his bedroom and shoved him onto the bed before climbing on top of waist and resuming kissing him like a man dying of dehydration and Dean’s mouth was a fucking water fountain.

Without breaking their lip lock, Cas scrambled to get Dean’s tie off, and Dean did his best to help with the clothing removal process, but his efforts were mostly futile.

Finally, after a  pathetically long and unromantic struggle, they were both naked, and Dean was basically drooling at the sight of Cas’ dick. Like, holy hell, it’s not like Dean himself was small, but Jesus, he was embarrassed of his own length in the presence of Cas’ massiveness.

Cas grinned with a hungry look in his eye as he took Dean in, and Dean felt suddenly self conscious as Cas scanned him so carefully.

Cas noticed the change in Dean’s demeanor and guessed the source quickly. “Dean, you are so beautiful,” his husky voice reassured before leaning in and capturing Dean’s lips once again, this time with a contrastingly gentle and loving kiss, and for once in his life, Dean let himself actually believe that about himself.

The kiss soon got more heated, and Cas’ hands began exploring Dean’s body, starting in his hair, traveling down his chest, over his hips, and down his thighs. Dean moaned and realized that, much to his embarrassment, he was actually close.

Fortunately, Cas seemed to sense he should advance things, and he trailed his hands back up to Dean’s throbbing cock. Dean let out a punched groan at the first touch to his hot member, squeezed his eyes shut tight, and clenched his fists behind Cas’ back. “So good, Cas…”

Cas’ hand left his cock for a minute, and Dean heard the telltale sounds of someone spitting before the hand returned, slick and tight. Just a couple tugs and Dean was coming with a shout. “Oh, Cas, oh fuck, Cas!”

He had never come so quickly in his entire life, but Dean couldn’t even find it in himself to be ashamed, especially as he heard Cas grunting as he followed directly behind him.

“Cas, that was…”

A sudden worried look fell over Cas’ face. “Was it bad? I’m sorry, I know we both came really fast.”

Dean laughed and tried his best kiss the pouting look off of Cas. “No, it was amazing, Cas. Jesus, that was the most vanilla shit I’ve ever done, but it was perfect.” Dean sighed and steeled himself before continuing. “And actually, I think the reason it was perfect was because, well, it was with you, Cas.”

~***~

“Honeybee, I’m home!” Dean stripped off his big winter coat and hung it on the hook by the front door.

“I’m in the kitchen, Dean!” Dean stalked through the house and up behind his husband, snaking his arms around the other man’s broad chest and leaning over his shoulder to give him a peck on the cheek.

“How was work today?” Dean asked, glancing around the kitchen and noticing with a grin what looked suspiciously like the mess left after someone has baked an apple pie.

“Work was lovely, thank you. Of course, that was mostly because of the letter I got from my favorite stop on my favorite route.” Cas grinned and spun around to give Dean a proper kiss.

“I’m your favorite?!” Dean grinned and pulled back before Cas could kiss him

Cas rolled his eyes, “No, I’m talking about our neighbor, Mrs. Tran.”

“I love you too, babe.” Dean finally let himself be pulled into his husband’s eager arms and smiled into the kiss. Fate was kind of awesome.  

[midtownvaledictorian]

Always

Months after breaking up, you get a text from Tom...

(2,600 words)

Warnings: SMUT-T-T-T

A/N: considering trying a Peter Parker fic, thoughts??? also, definitely want to start doing requests so send them my way. also considering doing a series of little events between you and Tom dating. JUST SO MANY IDEAS.

also- will probably be most active Friday-sunday because I have class Monday-Thursday but I’ll definitely try my best to post during the week.  

w/o further ado... 

You were always the experienced one in relationships. No matter how much a boy would talk himself up, you would leave highly dissatisfied; really the only satisfaction you could get from sexual encounters was watching boys come completely unhinged by your actions. You were truly a goddess. That’s why your first encounter with Tom took you by surprise. You had met in a crowded club in L.A. After hours of watching you dance, and after about five drinks, Tom finally worked up the courage to approach you. You had to admit, you were instantly attracted to him. His sharp jaw line, perfectly curling hair, and deep brown eyes nearly put you in a trance as he asked if he could buy you a drink. It didn’t take much convincing when he asked you if you’d like to come home with him. Dancing with him allowed you to feel the bulge you helped grow in his jeans and you were intrigued by what he could do, or more so what you could do to him.

That first night was ecstasy. It was as if he was able to stimulate every nerve in your body. Orgasms washed over you over and over again, yet you still had your effect on him. After you both had your fill you laid there together, head on his chest. Feeling it move up and down harshly, still trying to fully calm down. “Fuck. How did you even do that?” He said, running fingers through your hair.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” you replied, earning a chuckle from Tom. “I guess we’re perfect for each other then.” And damn was he right. You both found out that your emotional chemistry far surpassed your physical chemistry. You had both fallen madly in love with each other. But that was months ago, and now you lay alone on your bed. Everything was perfect between you and Tom, except one thing. He was too afraid to make your relationship public and you were growing tired of being a secret. You understood the fear, the idea of you becoming too overwhelmed by the attention, the hate you might receive from jealous fans, the fear that it would change everything. But you couldn’t handle it anymore, so you left. You were lying on your bed, scrolling through old messages, when suddenly they swiped back down to the very bottom. You groaned, too tired to swipe all the way back up to the ones you were reading, before you realized that it was because of a new text. hey, can I call? it’s tom btw, just in case you deleted my number. Your heart dropped. What could he possibly need? You tried to convince yourself that you were annoyed by the sudden contact, but you knew you wanted to talk to him. No matter what it was he had to say, just to hear his voice. of course It was easy to send that text, but when his face suddenly illuminated your phone, you realized how difficult it was to actually pick up. You swiped the screen to answer the call, but it took a moment before you could actually put the phone to your ear. “Hi,” you almost whispered. “Hi, I was afraid you weren’t going to answer for a second there.” He said, allowing a breathy chuckle to follow. “I’ll always answer for you.” You instantly regretted that. It just slipped out. Feeling the uncomfortable silence, you quickly added, “so what did you need?” “Well, I need you to come let me in.” “What?” “I’m outside. We need to talk y/n, please.” “I’ll be right out.” You hung up the phone and started walking out of your bedroom when you remembered that you weren’t properly dressed for company. You ran to your closet and threw on a pair of sleep shorts and a Vampire Weekend shirt you bought at the concert you saw with him. Suddenly, you were nervous about how you looked, but you decided it had been too long since you hung up for any more primping. You made it to the door and went to turn the handle, but noticed your hand just lying there, unable to turn it. With a deep breath, you swung the door open. There he was, clad in black jeans and a t shirt, just tight enough to notice that his muscles have only grown since you last saw him. “Tom.” It was all that you could get out. His eyes looked bloodshot, and his lips were swollen. You knew he had been crying, but he hid it so well over the phone. “Y/n. May I come in?” You nodded and moved out of the way from the doorway, allowing him to enter your apartment like so many times before. He moved to the closet next to the front door to shed his jacket, and returned wielding a raised eyebrow and an old sweatshirt—his sweatshirt. “Oh yeah, I meant to run that by your place but I've been so busy with work I never had the chance.” You quickly lied. He started working his arms through it, as if he was about to put it on, but backwards. He walked over to you and held it above your head. You raised your arms in response and he easily slipped it over your petite frame. “It always looked better on you anyways.” His face was so close to yours. For a moment you thought he was about to lean in a place a long awaited kiss on your lips, but instead he started walking towards the living room and sat down on the couch. You followed. You sat down nervously, a bit further away from him than you probably should have. “Y/n I can’t take this anymore.” He blurted out. “We love each other. We are meant to be together. I know I messed up okay? But I can fix it, I will fix it for you.” “Tom…” “If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t think we should be together then I’ll leave.” His intensity took you by surprise. You had no idea he felt this way, if you did, then you probably would be back together by now. You could see tears starting to well up in those brown eyes again, and you could feel them starting in yours. The fear you felt earlier was replaced intense feelings of love. You wanted him back, in every way. With one foul sweep you placed yourself on his lap, straddling the boy you loved so much. You cupped his cheeks and put your forehead on his. You were so close you had to keep darting your eyes back and forth to look into both of those beautiful brown eyes. You couldn’t take it anymore, you crashed your lips into his. The passion was overwhelming, so many emotions were behind that single kiss. You could tell he was taken off guard, but soon he found comfort in the familiar feeling and began exploring your body. First he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in even closer. Then they trailed down to the small of your back, then further to cup your ass, instantly causing you to start grinding on him. His hands journeyed to your thighs. He savored the feeling of your soft skin as you savored the roughness of his palms. You moaned at his touch, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. His kisses grew more and more desperate, as if he thought he’d never get to kiss you again. Then you realized, he probably did think that. He pulled away from the kiss and rested his forehead on yours, “I really thought I’d lost you.” Tears began to well up in those big brown eyes. You placed soft kisses on his forehead in between shushes. “I’ll always be yours, Tom. Always.” “Always,” he nodded. He gave you one more quick kiss before scooping you up and carrying back to your room. He set you down gently on your bed. You expected to feel his lips against yours again, but instead he barely lifted up the sweatshirt and began placing kisses all over your stomach. Goosebumps began covering your body as he kissed the sensitive skin. He chuckled when he noticed the little bumps, “always worked like a charm.” You rolled your eyes at that typical, cocky remark. Even after months of being apart, he knew you like the back of his hand. He never broke eye contact as he slowly slipped you out of your shorts. Even though your room was dark, his eyes were darker, and you could see the lust glistening in them. He started rubbing circles on your clit making your eyes flutter shut and your head fall back into your bed. The sensation suddenly stopped and you groaned at the discomfort starting to grow between your legs. “Look at me,” he barely whispered. You propped yourself up on your elbows and the second you found his eyes he attached his mouth to your clit and slid two fingers into you. You wanted to throw your head back in pleasure, but you know it’d only cause him to stop again. That was always his thing. He loved watching you, and he really loved you watching him. Each lick and pump brought you closer and closer to the edge. Tom could tell you were getting close, he only stopped his movements to whisper, “say my name, love.” “Oh, Tom,” you began to moan. Each time you repeated his name he would pick up the pace, soon you were chanting his name and a feeling of euphoria swept over your body. A feeling only he could give you. One orgasm wasn’t enough though, you were desperate to be even more intimate with him. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him up to you. You could taste yourself on his lips as he began to kiss you again. You began fumbling with the button of his jeans, but couldn’t seem to get them undone. Tom noticed you struggling and reached down to help you. “I see you haven’t improved your dexterity,” he chuckled. “Yeah, well I haven’t really had much practice in a while,” you grumbled as he released the button and you pulled down the zipper. Tom smiled as he realized you hadn’t been with anyone else since the two of you broke up. Even though he knew it was selfish, he really couldn’t stand to think of you being with anyone else. You slipped your hand into his jeans and began palming him through his boxers. He clenched his jaw and hissed from the contact he had been anticipating for so long. It really was a spectacle, him all worked up, curls messy, t shirt clinging to his chest with sweat, dark eyes locked with yours. He was getting harder with each stroke, and you couldn’t help but wonder how much he could take. Clearly not much because he rolled off of you and began kicking his jeans and boxers off. Once he was free of the clothing you swung your leg over to straddle him. You tugged at the hem of his shirt and he pushed himself off the bed just enough for you to pull it off of him. You grabbed the hem of the sweatshirt and started to lift it off when he grabbed your wrists. “Don’t. I love it when you wear my clothes.” You smiled at his confession, especially because he always pretending to be annoyed when you would steal his sweatshirts and t shirts. Tom was throbbing beneath you. You began grinding against his length, letting your wetness cover his cock. Tom sighed, half in pleasure, half in desperation. You raised an innocent eyebrow at him. “Always such a tease,” he sighed. You smirked as you lined yourself up and began lowering yourself onto him. His eyes rolled back as he reached for your hips. Squeezing tighter as you began to quicken the pace. He pulled you forward by the back of your neck and began kissing you sloppily. He grabbed your ass, causing you to lean forward even more. He began lifting up his hips to thrust into you, and you bit at the skin on his shoulder to suppress your moans. “I love you,” he whispered into your ear before nipping at its lobe. The feeling of his hot breath against your neck drove you crazy and you let out a loud whine. He flipped the two of you over so that you were on your back and began thrusting relentlessly. He lifted one of your legs up over his shoulder so that he could thrust even deeper. The new angle was too much, you could feel your abs tightening as another orgasm started to creep up. “Tom I’m- Oh I’m gonna,” you couldn’t even get out a full sentence before the feeling washed over you again. You dragged your nails down his back as he continued to fuck you, riding out your high. His thrusts started getting sporadic and you could tell he was close. He got up on his knees and he started to jerk himself off, but before he could cum you scooted forward and took his length in your mouth. You bobbed your head before sucking on the head, running your tongue over the little slit—his most sensitive spot. He ran his hands through your hair before letting out a breathy “fuuuuck.” Soon hot ribbons of cum were shot down your throat—you savored the taste that you didn’t even know you’d missed. He collapsed next to you, letting out a satisfied sigh. He held out one of his arms, inviting you to snuggle up under it. Once you found yourself situated in the familiar position, you looked up at him and whispered, “I love you, too.” Tom gave you a kiss on the forehead before pulling the covers up over the two of you. You woke up alone. You immediately made yourself believe that he must’ve left early so that he wouldn’t have to face you. You should’ve known it was all too good to be true. You wanted to bury yourself under the covers in embarrassment, but then you noticed music playing faintly. It sounded like Goodness Gracious by The Heligoats. That was Tom’s favorite song on your morning playlist. You dragged yourself out of bed and walked into the kitchen, and there he was. Flipping pancakes and sipping on coffee while wearing nothing but boxers. He was singing along so softly that you could barely hear him, you always loved the few moments you could hear him sing. You started humming along yourself, which caught his attention. “Good morning love, I was worried the coffee would go cold by the time you finally woke up,” he laughed. You rolled your eyes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before pouring yourself a cup. 
“Good morning to you too.”
“I’ve got plans for us next weekend.” “Oh really? Well I’ll have to see if—” “You don’t work.” “Oh. How exactly do you know that?” “You never unsynced our calendars. How was your gyno appointment by the way?” “Uhh,” you could feel the heat flood through your cheeks. “I’m only joking, darling,” he laughed as you rolled your eyes. “Anyways, BAFTAs are next weekend, I figured that’d be the perfect way to introduce you to everyone as my girlfriend.” 

[fucking-zawa-sensei]

Don’t Kid Yourself: Chapter 4 - I Take It All Back

Pairing: Erasermic – Shouta Aizawa|Eraserhead/Hizashi Yamada|Present Mic

Categories:  pining, unrequited love, slow burn, angst, very very slow burn

Word Count: 5,000+

Summary: The repercussions from their conversation in the car follows Aizawa and Yamada throughout the rest of their week. Something makes Yamada distant and Aizawa tries to ask questions without breaking boundaries. 

Notes: Chapter 5, the one after this, will be the last angst heavy chapter of this fic (there will be some sprinkled in here and there, but nothing like the past few). It will focus on Yamada’s POV for the days and events covered in the below chapter. This is why he is intentionally vague here. Everything will be answered in chapter 5. I am trying to get the ball rolling so I can stop torturing you in a couple chapters. I wanted this fic to feel genuine and true to life, so there is quite the slow build, but it will have erasermic eventually. Thanks for reading! 

The previous chapter took place on Wednesday. I noticed my timeline might be a little confusing, so here’s the rundown: Monday - Ice cream date Tuesday - Yamada doesn’t talk to Aizawa Wednesday - Yamada doesn’t talk to Aizawa until after class in the car (I’m counting the “day time” portion of Wednesday as one of the two days Yamada gives him the silent treatment). This chapter starts Wednesday night. Aizawa POV.

Read it on AO3 here

Other Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

Chapter 4: I Take It All Back

Wednesday Night.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Aizawa’s phone shuffles a bit across the wooden top of his bedside table. He’s laid out on his stomach atop his bed covers, pillow comfortably stuffed under his upper chest, reading a book.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

He reaches over to pick up the phone and check who’s messaging him, but the display just shows an unknown number. He unlocks the screen and looks at the anonymous messages.

“Hey did something happen to Hizashi? He seems down.”

“This is Haru, btw. Sorry, he gave me your number a while back just in case!”

“In case of what?” Aizawa mumbles, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

With a groan, he types back, “We just had a talk, it’s fine.”

Imai’s response time is either impeccable, or he already had a pretty good idea of what was going on, because his reply comes only seconds later.

“About me?”

“No.”

“You, then? You and him?”

Aizawa shuts his book and places it on the nightstand. How much does Imai know about what happened between Hizashi and me? Aizawa thinks, trying to figure out how best to respond.

“Yeah,” is the simple message he shoots back, rolling over to face the ceiling and wait for what he knows will be just another incredibly awkward conversation. At this point, Aizawa’s beginning to feel like that’s all the talking he’s capable of doing anymore. That and exasperatedly begging teenagers to not get themselves killed for just one week.

His phone vibrates again where he has it resting between his hand and his chest. He lifts it up to see what Imai has to say.

“Why is he so sad?” Aizawa’s eyebrows raise a bit in surprise. I thought for sure he’d go straight to digging about our relationship.

“Beats me,” Aizawa replies.

“Come on, that can’t be true. I’m worried about him.”

Aizawa hesitates to respond, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. He didn’t particularly want to rehash their whole conversation to Imai.

“Why don’t you just ask him?” he asks. Surely, the dream team was capable of communicating.

“I tried, he doesn’t want to talk.”

Aizawa frowns. Interesting.

“Then wait until he does, it’s not my place to say if he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Aizawa waits for a response, but it seems Imai has accepted his reasoning, falling silent. Aizawa closes down his messaging app and taps his gallery open, then his downloads folder, before opening up the orange kitten in the lion’s mane costume Yamada had sent him a few days ago to cheer him up. Aizawa smiles at the picture, honestly, it was cute.

He rolls back over to his stomach, grabbing his book again, but stops before flipping back to the page he’d been on. Picking up his phone, he copies the little kitten picture into a new message to Yamada and sends it off.

Aizawa doesn’t get another message until he’s 3 and a quarter more chapters into the book and his eyes are getting a little drier than normal. He’s considering just calling it a night, but he kind of wants to finish this chapter. He’s rubbing at his right eye when his phone vibrates and lights up on the pillow next to him.

He looks at the screen and sees this time it says “Hizashi” on the preview with a little unread envelope and 2 new messages next to it.

“Thanks! :D”

I thought you were supposed to be sad.

The other message is another picture. This time of a fluffy yellow duckling cuddled up with a sleeping black cat. Aizawa saves the attachment.

“Cute.” is all he texts back, a small smile starting on his face. He shakes it off. This feels too weird. He’s just pretending it’s okay again.

Yamada sends another picture of someone poking the tiny toe beans of a tabby cat.

“I want a cat! :(“ comes Yamada’s follow up text. Aizawa starts typing out a message about how he can just come play with his cat, Mai, but thinks better of it and deletes the whole thing. If Yamada’s really feeling better, he should be talking to Imai, not him.

“Get one then, you’re an adult.”

“Come with me to a shelter sometime?”

Aizawa would love to go to a shelter and help Yamada find a cat. He can’t think of something better than being surrounded by adorable adoptable cats and watching Yamada grin and melt as he plays with all of them, but adopting a cat seems an awful lot like something people should do with their partners. Especially when they live with them.  

“Shouldn’t you pick one out with Imai?”

Aizawa has to wait several minutes before Yamada finally answers.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“He texted me, you know.” Aizawa isn’t really sure he should be calling Imai out, but it’s not like they talked about anything secret.

“What?! Really?!” comes Yamada’s first message, quickly followed by another.

“Shouta, I’m so sorry, and after I said I’d tone it down…”

“I told you that you don’t need to do that,” Aizawa rolls his eyes. He did not want to rehash their fight on a platform he’d actively have to delete it from. It was hard enough trying to get it out of his mind. Aizawa looks back down to his book, still not finished with the chapter. I should have just said he could come play with Mai and left it alone.

“I know. Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Aizawa sends.

“What did he want?”

“He wanted to know what was wrong with you.”

“Oh.”

Oh? That’s it? Aizawa thinks. Guess that answers my question. He didn’t talk to him. Then why is he acting better?

Aizawa glances at the clock, which reads 11:17 PM. He doesn’t usually go to bed this early, but he also doesn’t usually have this much free time to go to bed this early. He might as well take it. He’d been the one to help Yamada for most of his life, but now he had someone else, so Aizawa decides gently pushing him into talking to his partner is probably for the best.

“I’m going to bed, see you tomorrow.” He types out and sends to Yamada. It’s met with a picture of a cat wearing a nightcap and tucked into a tiny bed.

“Sleep well, Shouta.” A little red heart and a microphone emoji is sent with the final message. Love, Mic. Yamada had been ending any conversations that led into either of them going to bed like that for many years. It had been a few months since Aizawa had bowed out of a conversation for rest, though. He almost considers opening up his own emojis to see if there’s an eraser, but decides to let it go. He sets his phone on the nightstand, along with his sadly unfinished book, and turns off the light.

---

Thursday.

Aizawa doesn’t see Yamada at work the next day. He knows the voice hero is in the school, though, because the kids are all still going to English class and leaving without any gossip or questions floating around the halls. There’s even a stack of graded pop quizzes on his desk in the staff room when he stops there to eat lunch. They’re English quizzes, which honestly could be the work of a substitute, but the grades all have accompanying smiling, frowning, or halfway between faces doodled beside them. There’s even one that looks like it’s puking. They might as well be signed, “Graded by Mic.”

Aizawa glances around the staff room. Midnight and Cementoss are the only other two in the room. Kayama glances up from her lunch.

“What’s bugging you?” she asks.

“Where’s Mic?”

She shrugs, looking back down at her food. “He was here earlier.”

“Where is he now?”

She looks up at him, raising one eyebrow. “Why are you so worried about where he is?”

Aizawa gives her the best bored expression he can manage. “It’s unusual that he’s not here.”

“Maybe he’s at lunch with Haru,” she says, but it’s not malicious. She’s frowning, eyes downcast. Kayama had been half the reason Aizawa had enough guts to finally confess to Yamada. Aizawa knew she’d felt a great deal of guilt when he’d gone to her apartment that night he’d confessed, shaking with anger and hurt. He’s not resentful and had expressed that a number of times. In the end, it had been his decision, but Kayama had always been rather outspoken about her feelings. The whole event had put a strain on her as well.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Aizawa pulls out his chair and moves the stack of quizzes over to the side. They all eat in silence.

Aizawa doesn’t run into Yamada at all the rest of the day.

---

The next day is Friday, and it starts much the same as the previous. No signs of Yamada.

Again, he knows he’s here somewhere. He’d casually asked the students if they were prepared for all of their upcoming assignments or if they needed a study period, fishing for information, and was readily obliged by Iida. The boy gave an emphatic run down of their upcoming tests and projects, including a presentation in Yamada’s class today, which some of the students were more than a little panicked about if the way they nervously played with their pencils and looked down at their desks was any indication.

He’d decided to have mercy on them and allow them to use the homeroom period to practice their presentations on each other. He was a little surprised to find most of the class wasn’t actually too bad at English. Yaoyorozu was perhaps a little over prepared, but Jirou’s English could rival Yamada’s, sounding conversational and flowing well. Aizawa wondered if it had to do with the music they both listened to. He’d seen her in the dorms wearing t-shirts of American bands that he knew Yamada also owned merch for.

After the free period, he walked out to give the classroom over to Midnight, but rather than stroll in with her confident walk as usual, she grabbed his elbow and pulled him to the side.

“He’s in the computer lab right now,” she whispered in his ear, then pushed him gently in the direction of that room. Before he could say anything, she was giving the class a cheery “Good morning!” and closing the door.

Now, Aizawa finds himself walking to the computer lab. He wasn’t sure why he really needed to see Yamada. They had nothing to talk about. Space was probably a good thing after the discussion they had in the car, but he kept thinking back to how Imai had seemed so worried, and the way Yamada had cried not once, but twice during their conversation. Aizawa knew why he was suffering, and knew the whole situation wasn’t easy on Yamada either, but he didn’t think Yamada would be this affected by it.

He slides the door to the lab open and finds it empty. He’s not really surprised. There are computers in the staff room, and the students are all in class now, so unless there is an in-class project calling for computers, they’re usually empty before the kids start filing in after class is over to type up papers and work on assignments. Aizawa turns around to leave, but spots a little tuft of blonde hair poking around the side of a desktop monitor a few rows back.

He approaches quietly, slowly. A few more steps down the aisle and he can see Yamada’s got his head resting on his arms atop the table, keyboard shoved to the side.

Is he sleeping? Here? Aizawa thinks. He’s usually the only one doing that.

He reaches out to tap Yamada’s shoulder pad and the blonde immediately raises his head. Not sleeping, then.

Yamada turns around to see who tapped him and his eyebrows shoot up a little when he sees Aizawa.

“Ah! Hey!” he says, straightening up in his chair. The leather on his arms makes a peeling noise as he moves. He’s been lying here a while, Aizawa thinks.

“What are you doing here?” Aizawa asks, looking at the blank computer screen. The little power light isn’t even blinking, which means it’s not asleep, rather, it was never turned on.

Yamada also looks at the screen, then back at Aizawa, scratching his chin a little.

“Uh? Contemplating the universe and life as we know it?”

“Ambitious.”

“You know me! A real go-getter! That’s what my mom always said!” Yamada jokes, pointing at himself with his thumbs.

Aizawa smiles a bit, then pulls out the chair next to Yamada to sit down. Yamada’s hands drop.

“What’s wrong?” Aizawa asks. Yamada sighs.

“That obvious?”

“You’ve been purposely avoiding me for almost two days and now you’re ‘contemplating life’ in the computer lab.”

Yamada smooths out his mustache and then readjusts his headphones a bit.

“Haru and I had a fight that night I was texting you.”

After? It seemed too late for them to fight after he’d said goodnight. Before, then...but he seemed happier than when we were talking in the car, not worse.

“And?” Aizawa asks.

“And I didn’t think it would be appropriate for me to talk to you about it,” Yamada shrugs, “so I ran, I guess.”

“You didn’t get very far…” Aizawa says, “Hizashi, I told you-”

“Not to pretend he doesn’t exist. Not to hide my feelings, yeah, yeah, yeah. I know.” Yamada waves him off.

Aizawa frowns. Short fuse today.

“You’re giving me a lot of mixed rules here, Shouta. You don’t want to hear about cute stuff we do together, but you want to hear about the bad stuff?”

It doesn’t feel like a particularly fair way to word it, but he’s not wrong. Aizawa feels kind of guilty.

“I don’t know…” he answers, trailing off.

Yamada bites his bottom lip.

“I don’t want to talk about it either way,” Yamada says.

“Okay.”

 “I know you said no about the shelter, but do you want to go to the cat cafe today instead?” Yamada asks. His voice is quiet, hesitant. Aizawa’s not sure why he’s asking that on a Friday, though. Yamada has his radio show and Aizawa is going on patrol. This happens every Friday, without exception.

“Hizashi, do you know what day it is?”

“Of course! It’s-” Yamada’s face very quickly goes from indignant to embarrassed, “it’s Friday…:

Aizawa nods.

“Saturday, then?” Yamada asks, hopeful.

Aizawa kind of feels like they could use some space after everything that’s happened this week, but Yamada seems determined to make plans together.

“Sure, Saturday. Not too early, though.”

“No, of course not. Like, 3?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Great, I’m looking forward to it,” Yamada says, pushing away from the table to stand up.

Aizawa grabs the sleeve of his jacket.

“Hizashi...I know what I said in the car...but things got pretty heated. I don’t want you to think you have to hold everything in just to spare my feelings. You’re right, I didn’t really want to hear about dates you went on with Imai or things he did that you thought were cute, but if not hearing those things means I don’t hear from you...I’d much rather put up with it.” Aizawa looks up at Yamada, whose mouth is open just a tiny bit, eyebrows pulled together. “If you’re upset, you can talk to me about it. I’ll try to be unbiased.”

Yamada nods slowly, smiles.

“Thanks, Sho,” he says, patting the back of Aizawa’s hand with the hand that’s not being restrained by his grip. Aizawa lets go.

“I…” Yamada hesitates, “I’m not really sure I want to talk about it right now.”

Aizawa nods, getting out of his chair to follow Yamada out. Just as the blonde is about to step into the hall, Aizawa pulls on the back of his leather jacket’s high collar. Yamada jerks to a stop.

“Hey! What was that for?” he asks, turning around. Aizawa points up to Yamada’s tower of hair.

“You’ve got a piece falling down,” he says.

Yamada looks up as if he’s going to be able to see the mountain of hair atop his head.

“Where? Can you fix it?” he asks, turning like a dog looking for its tail.

“Yeah, hold still!” Aizawa says, grabbing his shoulder pads on one of the rotations. He reaches his hand up to smooth out the loose strands. They stick easily to the rest of their gelled up brethren. Yamada runs his hand over the spot Aizawa just touched, making sure it’s indeed intact.

“Thanks,” he says. “What would I do without you?”

“Mhm.” Aizawa hums, moving past him to leave the lab.

---

Saturday.

Aizawa’s alarm goes off at 12 PM and despite a full 8 hours, he still feels like he could sleep for 20 more. He hadn’t gotten back from patrol until 4:17 AM last night after some trouble with a gang of small villians who made friends with a troublesome girl who could control the wind. He still kind of felt like his ear drums were being buffeted with hurricane gusts. Aizawa slaps his hand down on the alarm to silence it and rolls over onto his back, rubbing at his eyes, then his temples, then just dragging his hands up and down his entire face.

Maybe I should just cancel plans with Hizashi.

As if summoned, his phone vibrates on the nightstand. Aizawa blearily reaches for it. The light blinds him for a couple seconds as his eyes adjust.

“Excited for the kitties? I am!”

Aizawa knows this is Yamada’s subtle reminder that he should get up. He rolls over to look for Mai, who he knows will be on the bed somewhere. He finds her curled up near his feet. He snaps a picture of her and sends it as his response.

“Perfect princess.” Yamada responds. A moment later, Aizawa gets another text.

“I’ll drive!”

Aizawa makes a face. He doesn’t have a car, which both Yamada and him know, but Yamada shares his with Imai, who typically uses it during the weekends to drive one town over for his production job. They’d been doing onsite shoots for some TV show for the past few months. While he worked in their town during the week, taking the train, Yamada always gave over his car for the long commute on the weekends.

“Is Imai done with that location shoot?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yamada replies, a thumbs up emoji accompanying it.

Deciding it’s not worth his effort, Aizawa gets out of bed to go shower and get dressed. He chooses some simple dark wash jeans and a black sweater for the day and lays them out on his bed.

---

Aizawa is lounging on his couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, waiting for Yamada. He glances at his phone again. The display reads 3:16 PM. He considers asking Yamada why he’s late, but figures if he’s in traffic, he doesn’t want to distract him.

He gets up to go get the book he’d been reading from his bedroom, making it halfway down the hall when his phone rings. He slips it out of his pocket.

“Hizashi?” he questions, staring at a picture of Yamada with his hair in a half-bun and a surprised smile spread across his lips as he claps his hands together in happiness. Aizawa had taken the candid photo a few years ago when they’d gone to a new specialty coffee shop for the blonde’s birthday. Aizawa had requested the barista draw a microphone surrounded by hearts and the words “Happy Birthday” into his latte.

He slides the answer button across the screen and holds it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m so sorry!” Yamada’s words come out fast and loud.

“It’s fine, traffic is usually bad on Saturdays.”

“No, uh...I haven’t left yet.”

“Oh,” Aizawa responds, leaning against the wall. He hears Yamada sigh and some rustling on the other end. “Do you want me to just meet you there? I can take the train.”

“No. Shouta, I’m sorry,” Yamada says. Aizawa wants to tell him he’s getting really sick of apologies.

“You can’t come?”

“No…”

“Why?”

“Something came up-”

“No, Hizashi. Why?” Aizawa cuts him off.

There’s a long pause. Aizawa can hear Yamada breathing, then a thud that sounds distinctly like something hitting a wall.

“Haru.”

“What’s wrong with Imai?”

“Shit, Shouta.” Yamada hisses. Aizawa frowns. Yamada’s voice sounds desperate. “I...no. Let’s go to the cafe. I’m sorry, let’s go.”

“Hizashi.”

“Please,” Yamada begs. Aizawa’s chest feels tight. How could he say no to that?

“Fine, but let’s just meet there.” Aizawa suggests, not really interested in the forced privacy that comes with being in a car.

“Okay, I’m headed out now. I should be able to make the train at 3:30.”

“See you there,” Aizawa says, hanging up.

He stares down at his phone for a while. Aizawa drops his head back against the wall. It makes an alarmingly similar sound to the one he’d heard coming from Yamada’s side of the conversation. Aizawa feels like he’s back fighting the wind villain again. Yamada’s emotional state seemed to be changing by the second for the entire week. Aizawa couldn’t keep up.

Still, he’d try.

----

Yamada took a different train line than he did, so they didn’t bump into each other at the station. As Aizawa turns around the corner, he seems him leaning against the side of the cafe’s building, one leg propped up. He’s got his hair completely down, not even in a bun or braid. He’s wearing his clear glasses, some boots and tight, ripped black pants, and a simple maroon pullover with some band logo on it. His hands are stuffed in the front pocket and he’s staring at the ground. All and all, for Yamada, he’s unusually dressed down.

Aizawa crosses the street. He thinks about making his approach purposely loud to break Yamada’s attention away from the sidewalk and give the man enough time to put his fake smile on. It proves unnecessary. Yamada pulls his gaze away from the ground and does a quick look around his surroundings on his own.

“Hey!” Yamada calls, pulling one of his hands out of his pocket to wave at Aizawa. Aizawa nods at him.

“Hi.”

“Let’s go,” Yamada says, pushing the door to the cafe open before Aizawa gets within even four feet of Yamada. The blonde has to awkwardly hold the door until Aizawa reaches it, unwilling to pick up his pace.

Aizawa hands his punch card over to the hostess and waits for Yamada to fish his out of his overstuffed wallet. Aizawa notices the way his hands shake a bit as he hands it over to the woman.

A little calico cat rubs up against his leg and he bends down to pet its head. The cafe is mostly empty, just a few groups of people here and there, waving wand toys, or reading a book with a cat in their lap. The cafe is busier during the lunch hours than this weird half-afternoon, half-evening time they’ve chosen to come.

Yamada comes up beside him and coos at the calico, giving it a long stroke down its back and over its tail. They both straighten up and Yamada points toward a little alcove with colorful pastel pillows piled for sitting. It’s pretty far away from the few other people. Aizawa nods and follows Yamada’s lead, the little calico trailing behind them.

When they reach the alcove, Yamada flops onto the plush pile. Aizawa sits down more slowly beside him. He sits with his legs crossed and the calico steps in, circling twice, then curling up in his lap. He runs his hand down its back and scratches behind its ears. Aizawa looks over to see Yamada is stretched back on the pillows, arms lazily lying across his stomach, head tilted back. His long hair is everywhere and his eyes are closed.

They sit like that for a long while, the only sound the small purring coming from Aizawa’s lap. Aizawa thinks Yamada might just fall asleep here, but abruptly, he breaks the silence.

“We broke up,” Yamada says.

Aizawa’s hand pauses. The cat lets out a small unhappy meow. Question after question start immediately pouring into Aizawa’s head. There are too many to pick just one. He can’t figure out how to make his mouth move. How do words work, again?

“Uh,” is somehow all he manages to get out.

“Uh?” Yamada questions.

“What?” Aizawa asks, looking at Yamada. His eyes are still closed and his face is still pointed up towards the ceiling.

“I don’t know,” the blonde runs his hand roughly through his hair, making more of a mess of it.

Yamada laughs. Aizawa lifts his hand off the cat, afraid he’s just going to end up crushing it with the way his body is starting to lock up.

“I kind of thought you’d be happy...or something,” Yamada whispers.

Anger is starting to feel like a constant in Aizawa’s life.

“Happy?” he says, his voice rough and accusatory. “I’m not a dick, Hizashi. You just ended a two year long relationship. That’s a lot to deal with.”

“Yeah…” Yamada responds, finally opening his eyes. His head tilts slightly in Aizawa’s direction. He looks like he’s squinting, with how little effort he’s put into actually lifting his eyelids. His mouth is just a straight line. Aizawa stares at his unmoving lips.

“I’m not that desperate,” close though, Aizawa thinks, then continues, “I’m not going to just start trying to woo you.” Who says that would even ever work…

“Yeah, no, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have thought that. I didn’t really...I...yeah…” Yamada rambles quietly, pulling a strand of hair through his hand over and over again.

Aizawa hesitates to ask it, but he really wants to know.

“Can I ask...why?”

“Why?”

“Why did you break up?” Aizawa rubs the back of his neck, feeling a bit uneasy, and like he’s pushing too far. Best friend or not, people had their boundaries. “You seemed perfectly happy before we got ice cream.”

“Oh...yeah. I don’t really know that I’m ready to talk about all the details...I just have a lot of things I have to sort through right now.” Yamada releases a big sigh. He slinks down further into the surrounding pillows. His green eyes shift away from Aizawa to look at the cat in his lap instead. “Haru...Haru was wonderful. I loved him, really, I did, but...something has been bugging me for a while now, even before we got ice cream. I think our fight in the car just...I don’t know...triggered something. Sometimes things felt perfect and sometimes...they just weren’t. Haru and I had a talk that night, and the next one, and the next one, and today…we’ve been talking for a while now. Before this week. Before this month...we’ve been talking and fixing and trying and...” Yamada trails off. Aizawa lets him take a moment to gather his thoughts.

“I’m just done talking, Shouta. I’ve got a big mouth, you know?” Yamada chuckles at his self-deprecating joke. Nothing Yamada just said settles well in Aizawa’s stomach.

“When you’re ready to talk, I’m here. I won’t tell you to shut up or anything. You can talk my ear off,” Aizawa offers.

“Of course I can…” Yamada says. Aizawa can’t ignore the way his lips almost look like they’re on the brink of a scowl.

“What?”

Yamada moves suddenly, rolling over, giving Aizawa his back to stare at. Aizawa watches one of his hands come up and over his side, tightly gripping his sweatshirt. Aizawa realizes he’s hugging himself.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Hizashi…” Aizawa starts, “Did you break up because of our conversation in the car?”

“Not...really. It was more than that. Like I said, this has been going on for a while.”

“But you seemed happy. Everything you said implied you meant to spend more time together...you said you wanted me to like him, you wanted to talk about him, you-”

“Shouta.” Yamada stops him, tone grave. “I never said I was the one who did the breaking up.”

Oh...

Oh...

Oh.

Aizawa looks down at the cat, now sleeping happily in his lap.

He hears Yamada shift next to him.

“So...Sho,” he says. When Aizawa looks back, Yamada has turned around and is propped up on his elbows. The voice hero has an uncharacteristic pink hue spreading across his cheeks and nose. “I...uh. I lived with Haru.”

“Yeah…” Aizawa responds, not quite getting the point of bringing it up.

Yamada pulls at a loose string sticking out of one of the pillows.

“I gave up my apartment last year.”

“Yeah?”

Yamada pouts.

“So I don’t have anywhere to go.” he grits out, turning fully to face Aizawa now. He crosses his arms.

Oh.

“You want to stay with me?” It’s not an offer and he sees in the way Yamada glances away that he knows too. Living together would be weird. It’s too soon. There’s too much happening right now. Sure, they’d spent nights and weeks and even months at each other’s places before, just to hang out, to work on a case together, because one or the other was closer to a villain they were tracking, or their apartment needed repairs.

That was all before Imai.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Aizawa says.

Yamada nods slowly, a small, sad smile on his face as his eyes fall shut. Yamada flops back down onto the pillow pile, turning a little bit to lean into them. He spends a long time breathing into the pillows. Aizawa pets the cat again, giving him time.

“Where will you go?” Aizawa asks.

Yamada shakes his head.

Too soon.

Aizawa pets the cat some more and waits.

“Do you think Nemuri would let me stay with her?” Yamada asks after some time, voice quiet.

“Why not?”

“You know why not.”

“Hey,” Aizawa says, giving Yamada a hard stare, but the blonde is still focused only on the pillows. “Look at me. Hizashi. Look at me.”

Reluctantly, Yamada raises his head and looks at him.

“It is not your fault you loved someone else.” Aizawa says, then, “No, listen to me. No,” as Yamada’s mouth pops open, prepared for a rebuttal. “I can’t help that I love you and you can’t help that you love Imai. We don’t get to decide that. Nemuri is not holding that against you. You’re being irrational right now because you’re feeling vulnerable and upset…” Aizawa thinks about the way he was convinced Yamada was never going to speak to him again after he’d been rejected. Pain makes people crazy.

“You know she’s still your friend, you know that,” Aizawa insists. “She came up to you this week to tell you about some book she thought you’d like. You think enemies recommend best sellers to each other?”

Yamada shakes his head, laughing a bit. “No, I guess not.”

The blonde scoots over, closer to Aizawa, and reaches into his lap to scratch the calico behind its ears. It starts purring again. Yamada pulls himself in further, resting his cheek against Aizawa’s knee.

Aizawa tries to ignore the way his heart just went from calm to crazy in .02 seconds. Shit.

Shit. Fuck. Shit.

He might have acted all high and mighty, saying he wasn’t going to woo Yamada now that his relationship was over, but he was kidding himself if he thought his feelings for him weren’t going to get worse now that Yamada was technically available.

He’s upset, you idiot. He needs time. Besides, he never said he was interested.

Aizawa shakes his head a bit. Yamada looks up at him briefly, then back to the cat. Aizawa promises himself he’s not going to think about Yamada like that. He promises himself he will be a supportive friend, helping Yamada through this. He will wait. He will be understanding. He will listen to Yamada if he’s upset. He will let him take as much time has he needs to feel stable again.

He will. 

Then, when that’s over...maybe…

Maybe…

Aizawa’s knee feels cold and a little damp. He looks down and sees Yamada’s eyes are closed, but he’s crying. Silent, constant tears sliding down over his cheeks and down his neck, marking his hoodie with little wet spots. The other side of his face is still pressed into Aizawa’s knee, all the tears soaking into the fabric before they really get much of anywhere.

Aizawa clenches his jaw. He hates himself for thinking about a future with Yamada right now, no matter how many months or years off his fantasy might have been from this moment.

He’s crying and heartbroken and I’m selfish.

Give him time, Shouta, give him time.

[sunshinykittens-blog]

Not Enough Alcohol in NYC...

Saturday, November 25 the wee hours of the morning. I think.

I would love to go to sleep right now, God knows I have been through enough chaos the past 72 hours to qualify for hazard pay, or at least PTSD treatment. The flights, the usual holiday family drama (not EVEN my family), an empty apartment, snotting all over some Tower residents, new digs…but I probably should start from the beginning…

Wednesday

When last we left our intrepid adventurer (that would be me), it was in an airport, JFK to be exact. I was waiting, along with Sunny and the 3 younger kids, for our flight out to Pasco (via Seattle) to spend the Thanksgiving weekend with her mom and oldest child. My kids weren’t going to be at my family gathering, so no sense in going home, especially since I’m spending an entire week home for Christmas. Besides, Sunny’s mom has been going through some health issues, and I haven’t seen her in forever. Sunny made all the flight arrangements, all I was supposed to do was pack my bag and be ready to go. So something I didn’t know about her before this day, seeing as I had never flown with her before: Sunny is paranoid about missing flights. I realize that this is one of the busiest days for traveling, and that means all the lines for everything would be extra long, but I am still not sure why we had to leave the apartment at 6 am for a 1:30 pm flight. Maybe she thought we’d get caught up in the parade traffic. But since The Man arranged for a car to take us to the airport (and pick us up upon our return Sunday afternoon), we didn’t have to worry about getting a cab or riding the subway (Sunny’s great idea). So yeah, I am grateful to The Man for the car. Amazingly, we checked bags and got through the security lines very quickly. We were through to the gate section of the airport by 10. Even though one of us was chosen for the random search (guess who that was). Luckily I didn’t have any contraband to speak of, so that was pretty smooth, except for them telling me I needed to get my driver’s license updated to my new address when I get back. Yet another thing for me to have to squeeze in before Christmas. Sunny suggested we grab some coffee and lunch while we waited for our plane. Over this meal is when she told me we had another 3 hours before we were scheduled to board. That’s when I made my last post. (BTW, the girl child is an extremely talented artist, I’ll have to post some of her work sometime soon. Oh, and Sunny did manage to catch the loose cannon. When last I saw, all the kids were still alive.)

I will say this, at least Sunny got us first class seats for our flights (yes, I said flights). It was nice, but we were kind of spread out a bit. Which is nothing compared to the connecting flight in Chicago, which was delayed over an hour for mechanical problems, and we got bumped to another plane, and everyone was pretty scattered then. For our final leg from Salt Lake, though, we were in one cluster of seats, thanks to the airline folks feeling bad for us having missed that connecting flight. After they saw how frazzled she was with the middle child, who kept wandering off. But we arrived safely at our destination airport only about 2 hours later than scheduled. Oh yes, and every time we hit an airport with wifi, Sunny would get a gazillion messages from the oldest child asking why we weren’t there. I felt bad for Sunny, so I admit I bought her a drink in Chicago and Salt Lake. And then I paid for a taxi van to drive us from the airport to her mom’s house so we wouldn’t have to wait for a shuttle.

Didn’t take long for the drama to start when we got there, though. There was only one bed in the house, and that belonged to Sunny’s Mom. The oldest hadn’t even put her bed together, so we were all sleeping on the floor. I haven’t done that in I don’t know how long. Mom started in on how worried she’d been and why were we late, and then blaming Sunny for not getting there any sooner (like we can just hijack the plane or something). But like I said before, Mom had recently had some health problems, so I just tried to overlook it and be there to support Sunny. She was going to need it. Then we all stayed up way too late (with far too little alcohol), and finally got to bed at some point after midnight. I whispered to Sunny as we were drifting off that had I known we were going to sleep on the floor, I’d have rented a car and got a hotel room. Or at least rented some rollaway beds.

Thursday, Thanksgiving

Well, this day started entirely too early for a regular day, much less a holiday, even with the extra time we got for being 3 hours later than home time. Mom had said she needed help cooking, and we were fine with that. But she needed to oversee everything and everyone, assuming we had never entered a kitchen before in our lives. By the way, who in their right mind puts an egg into their literal Stovetop Stuffing? Menu was pretty good, very standard: ham (instead of turkey, which was fine with me), stuffing, green bean casserole, sweet potato soufflé, rolls, and 2 kinds of pie with whipped cream. It was a store bought kind of meal; everything came out of a box, can, or bag, or was bought ready to serve like the ham. Except the pumpkin pie. The Airport Problem Child made that and did a really good job, if I do say so myself. Which I do. So as soon as everything was cooked, we had to eat – right that second! Dinner conversation included why in the world did Sunny move so far away, why didn’t she tell her mom and oldest before she moved, why didn’t she find a man and settle down, how her mom’s health was (not good and how much worse it was getting every second that Sunny wasn’t caving), how the kids liked school, Sunny works too much, maybe at least she could find a husband in New York, how were my kids doing, and when was she moving back to Washington. We tried deflecting most of that by saying we had good jobs that we liked, we were making really good money at them, and we were about to move into a secure building at the first of next month. After dinner (with an unhealthy side of stress and heartburn), everyone retired for a nap. Except for Sunny. She stayed up to clean. Of course I stayed up with her. And it took every bit of 2 hours to clean. After which, the tree came out.

Sunny is not a Christmas person, she really doesn’t like it at all. She feels it’s entirely over commercialized, which I agree with. Unlike her, I enjoy the holiday season with full gusto. My only complaint is with people who have conniption fits when people break out the Christmas songs before Thanksgiving. I also find these are the same ones who then start complaining that there isn’t enough time in the Christmas season to get everything done that they want to do – starting the day after Thanksgiving. Anyway, Sunny was going to be aggravated with the evening. So first, her mom put on some Christmas station with some really annoying, tacky Christmas music. And let me tell you, that is really saying something coming from me. I love all Christmas music. At least I thought so until that night. I mean nobody liked it. Not even Sunny’s mom! And then the tree, it’s a wonder Sunny hasn’t ground her teeth down to stumps. It’s kind of old, but we couldn’t get her mom to let us run out and buy a new one. And the lights…it’s a wonder they can’t see that thing from space. You know those sort of net-type lights, the kind you drape over the shrubs outside? 5 of them. Draped onto a 6 foot tree. Then we had to add another 15 strings of plain white lights. I tell you, I needed shades when we plugged in the tree. Then the ornaments, a mix of glass, plastic, and handmade kids ornaments, and then those irritating silvery plastic icicles, the kind that clog up the vacuum. Then, just when we were starting to get into the tacky music, Mom changed it to something equally obnoxious.

About an hour later, I was questioning my decision to be there for the whole weekend. Because that’s when the oldest started in on how unfair life was and how hard she has it there. I could tell she was angling to move with us. Allow me to say one thing about the eldest child: Super Social Justice Warrior Snowflake, she’s about as far from me on the spectrum politically, religiously, and socially as you can get. And before we had left New York, Sunny made me promise that I would not start a fight with her. In other words, I’m surprised that I didn’t bite my tongue off in the short time I was exposed to her awake. She went all over the place from one thing to another, but finally I’d had enough. In fact, I don’t even remember what it was she said, or even what I said, only that I finally blew up and smacked her with an opinion that should have given her a heart attack right then and there. But her face welled up and she stormed off to her room, slamming the door shut and sobbing loud enough to be heard in Seattle. I just looked at Sunny and said I needed to get some air. I grabbed my coat and headed out the door. I walked for a good while, too bad I don’t have a fitness tracker because I easily walked 10k steps. I finally got so cold I went back inside (no hot water for a shower, but I’ve come to not expect that), and crashed in the living room with the kids instead of in the eldest child’s room with Sunny. I slept very little, eventually getting up literally at the crack of dawn for another walk.

Friday

Overnight I had come to the conclusion that neither my blood pressure nor Sunny’s family could take me sticking around for the rest of the weekend. As soon as I walked out of the door, I was on my phone with the airlines looking for the first flight out. I agreed to be on standby; even an airport had to be better atmosphere. I called a taxi, and realized everything except for my carry on bag was still in the bedroom where Sunny, the artist, and eldest child were still asleep. I was not about to go in and risk waking the crew. Instead, I tiptoed over the boys and went to the kitchen to leave a note.

“Sunny, Needed to fly back quickly. Can you please bring my suitcase when you come? See you in a couple of days. Call when I get home. Tell your mom thanks for dinner. Kate”

I carefully gathered my few things in the living room and made for the door. The youngest sat up and rubbed his eyes, then asked where I was going. I lied to the boy, told him I was needed at work, and that I’d see him in a few days. He shrugged, nodded, yawned, and went back to sleep.

I sat in the airport for only a couple of hours before I got on a flight to Denver, where I sat for two hours before I got a plane to New York. From JFK, I took a taxi back to the apartment. As I was walking up the three flights to the apartment, all I wanted to do was take a long hot bath, cuddle with my Spazzie, and get a full night’s sleep. I planned to spend the rest of the weekend lounging around and maybe doing some packing for the impending move looming on the horizon. It was about 11 pm. I unlocked the door to my apartment, stepped in, turned on the lights and saw…nothing.

Literally nothing. Every single thing was missing from our apartment. No futon in the living room. No dishes in the cabinets. No towels in the bathroom. And, the horror hit me as I realized, EVEN THE CATS WERE MISSING!!! For the third time since I moved to New York, I was dialing 911 to report a theft. And, bless her heart, Officer Yang came to take the report. I tried to give a pretty good description of what was missing. Her partner went down to the super’s apartment but there was no response. About half past midnight, Jake’s mom came home from her shift and looked in. We found out from her that a group of men had come first thing that morning and had been packing up our stuff. She had assumed that she had misremembered the date of our move. She offered to let me stay in their apartment, but I didn’t relish another night sleeping on the floor. Instead I called a cab as soon as the police left.

I had thought about going to a hotel, but figured they would pretty much be booked solid. I decided the best place for me to go would be to the Tower. I knew there were comfortable looking sofas, at least, and I figured that all the residents were gone for the holiday. Maybe I could convince The Man to hurry up the remodel because we really did have nothing. No sense in buying furniture, moving into the old apartment to just have to move it the following week. I had the taxi drop me off at the Tower, and I stood just outside to make the phone call I was dreading. I had to tell Sunny we had been cleaned out. I got her voicemail, which made some sense to me. It was closing in on 1:30 am, which was 10:30 pm there.  And her mom was always fussing about her being on her phone. I left her a message and promised to call after I got some sleep. Then I went inside.

The night guard was someone I hadn’t met before, but I had my badge so he let me in. The elevator ride up was the longest leg of my journey. I was reviewing all the events in my head and was starting to feel overwhelmed when the doors opened on the 91st floor. I had decided that I was going to have a cup of tea before trying to find a blanket and settling in on the sofa in the lounge. Surely The Man wouldn’t begrudge me that after everything I had been through. I hung up my coat and stashed my carry on in the closet and entered the common area, headed to the stove to heat water in the rarely-used kettle.

Standing at the island were three men. I recognized Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes from news stories I had seen over the years. The other one was unfamiliar to me. They were casually dressed, sweatpants and tees. It appeared they had just come down from the training room, they were slightly sweaty with a healthy glow. Captain Rogers was pouring some post-workout smoothie thing into glasses. I took a deep breath, feeling everything from the past few days welling up behind my eyes, and my nose starting to tingle and burn. I was desperately trying to contain my emotions in front of the people that I was definitely going to be running into in the halls and elevators, residents of the Tower. I was not going to lose control.

They glanced over at me as I came in. Captain Rogers welcomed me, asking if I was one of the housekeepers. I told him I was and then he said he thought we’d be back Sunday evening and where was my partner. I told him that she was still in Washington, and we were supposed to be back Sunday, but I had to leave early. Sergeant Barnes then asked why. And I think that’s where I started to lose that tenuous hold on my emotions. I tried telling them about the disastrous 24 hours that Thanksgiving had been, but I think I became a bit flustered. I don’t think I was making sentences. And then pieces of the past 2 days came spilling out and I absolutely burst into tears. Next thing I knew, I was seated on a stool at the island, Sergeant Barnes was doing his best to awkwardly comfort me with an arm around my shoulders, and the man I didn’t know was pressing a tumbler of some form of alcohol into my hand and demanding that Captain Rogers go find Mr. Stark and bring him up immediately. Before long, hthe Captain had returned with The Man Himself in tow. I will admit, he was concerned to see me sitting there sobbing, and he asked me what was wrong. I lost it again, someone handed me a handkerchief, and after about 5 more minutes, I regained some control. I blew my nose, took a deep breath and started to speak, but when I tossed back half the dark amber liquid, there went my voice.

When it returned, I told him as calmly as I could about the stress at Sunny’s mom’s house, that I just had to leave before really bad things were said, the layovers, the crying babies, coming home to a literally empty apartment, finishing up with the emotional outbursts they had all just experienced, which I assured him was a rare occasion, and could I please have a blanket so I could crash on the sofa. I finished the drink while waiting for the answer. I noticed glares aimed at The Man from the others in the room. And then the Captain threatened to call Miss Potts. Finally The Man said to follow him.

We went down on the elevator together, all four of us. I could almost feel the heat of the glares directed at my boss. This was the second elevator ride I’d had with him that was in complete silence, but somehow I felt like the awkwardness was coming from him this time. The doors opened on the 62nd floor.  I followed The Man down the hall to the door opposite the one he had showed us at the beginning of the week, the others behind me like some sort of guard or something. I now thought that what he was going to do was bring up a bed for me. Maybe this convinced him to complete the remodeling ASAP. But when I stepped into the now opened doorway, I was completely flummoxed. There, inside that room, was my apartment. Complete with cats. Spazzie came racing towards me and I scooped him up cuddling and scratching behind his ears. And I started crying again. I put him down for a minute and asked what the hell was going on.

The Man shrugged and told me he’d figured it would be great if we came back and found everything already moved in. One less thing for us to worry about, as it were. They had gone in, packed everything up and moved it, though they hadn’t known what stuff was mine and what was Sunny’s, so unfortunately we were going to have to go through the boxes ourselves. I was really jet lagged, and it was after 2 in the morning, so it took a little while for everything to sink in. But when it did…

I yelled, I screamed at him, I cried big fat hot mad tears. Sergeant Barnes smirked, thoroughly enjoying every word. Sunny’s cat, Aaron, came into the room and started pawing at me. I scooped him up and continued ranting. And then I realized something was climbing my leg. I looked down to see this cute little gray tabby kitten working its way up. And that was most definitely not my cat. I’d never seen it before. The guys all insisted that it must be ours because it was inside the apartment when they packed it up. And it had a collar. About then I felt all my energy drain from my body. I ordered them out and told them that we would finish this conversation tomorrow. I fell into the bed in the bedroom and pulled a comforter up over me. Spazzie curled up behind my knees, Aaron was behind me, and the kitten sprawled out on the pillow next to me. I’ve got to call Sunny tomorrow to let her know everything is OK and to just come to the Tower as soon as she gets in. But right now I need to sleep.

[auideas]

Ask the Admins 13.0

anon asked: For any of the admins! I’m not sure if this was asked previously, so I apologize in advance. But what's everyone’s favorite au / prompt? (Also thank you guys for starting this blog, im forever grateful this exists)

Chamomile: awww! I’m grateful that this blog exists too (lol). My current favorite type of au’s are murder mystery au’s because of the Rabbit Doubt writing group I’m in so like, expect so many of those coming up soon. I’m also really digging superhero au’s.

M: I’m a fan of the whole “kidnapping / assassin / mob / killer” sort of a trope for some reason - it’s loads of fun to try and mess with original tropes and make them ridiculous, funny, modern, etc.!

Jynn: My fave AUs are ones that incorporate real life twists on typical AUs, like including people with disabilities.

@tomorraw​ asked: How many of you guys are there? Do certain people answer in certain genre? Or does everyone write what they are given? How did you guys meet? (Btw, this is one of my favorite idea blogs. They are so many different views on different ideas and so many genres.)

Chamomile: Currently there’s four of us! I know admin m and admin jynn from a loooong while back -- like two years back. Admin jynn and I go back to our homestuck roots (love her for that) and we’ve stuck together ever since. We all just kind of write whatever floats our boats! M: I met both Jynn and Chamomile through working on the Night Unvaled, which is a Night Vale Fancast that we wrote and produced. We’ve been friends ever since!! As for the certain genre thing, I can’t really say that we all write solely one genre, but we all certainly have our specialties!! Jynn: We have a posting schedule for who posts what when, but when it comes lists we all just take what interests us. Chamomile and I met more than two years back… in a Homestuck role play. Shortly after, we met M in a podcast project we were all working on and we've all be friends since!

Anon asked: what are some of your favorite tropes?

Chamomile: does “I love the way that you understand me and make me feel like I’m the only person in the world when you pay attention to me” count as a troupe? Like an OTP troupe? Bc that’s my ultimate favorite.

M: My favorite trope is messing with tropes. Best thing.

Jynn: “Flaws” turning out to work to someone's advantage!

Anon asked: What is pastel/punk or pastel and punk? I don't get it and google isn't explaining it to me because it's a meany

Chamomile: I remember this AU! It was an AU Friday list that I did and loved doing it! Basically, there’s  ‘pastel’ aesthetic which is very like, cutesy baby pink and pastel blues and other ‘soft’ colors being worn with other ‘soft’ aesthetic items like, glitter or hair clips or oversized sweaters ands stuff like that. Then there’s punk aesthetic, which very like, ‘heck all of you, I want to be comfortable and show that I’m rebelling against the social/political norms’. It can vary from person to person, so it might be better just to google ‘punk fashion’. The whole tag is supposed to be sort of an ‘opposite attract’ type deal.

Anon asked: So in regards to the color au in which you only see color once you touch your soulmate: what if you were born blind? Or when you touch your soulmate, it turns out that you are colorblind?

Chamomile: mmmmmm I’m not a fan of this AU bc of reasons I’m too longwinded about. Skipping this question for me.

M: I guess it’s possible and would make for quite the interesting change in AUs from the usual soulmate trope, but make sure you’re careful when it comes to writing AUs about topics you’re not personally familiar with (such as being blind), but go for it!

Jynn: Idk about it. Lmao I'm picky as heck when it comes to soulmate AUs, and this one has the potential to be interesting but never “stuck out” to me.

Anon asked: hi there! i'm new {ish}, and i've been looking thru ur old posts. i think it's really cool how u help ur followers, school related or not. out of curiosity tho, who is the person who according to that school survey watched so much anime? if u have time, would u mind asking?

Chamomile: Anon I want to know too like, please, show yourself.

M: We support you. Maybe. For the most part.

Jynn: Show ya self ur among friends. I too have consumed too much anime.

Anon asked: Just wanted to say I love your blog. It gives me inspiration! :)

Chamomile: Aaaaa! Thank you <3

M: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jynn: Awwwww!

Anon asked: just poppin in to ask if its okay for us writers to adopt these aus? and claim the whole plot as ours but still credit the bunnies (ie linking it to this acc)? thanks for clarifying!

Chamomile: Totally! We completely encourage it because it brings more people to the blog and also, we get a lot of satisfaction from seeing people enjoy our prompts! Here’s a link on how to cite our au’s: link

Anon asked: omfg, i still think the admins are gorgeous. like f***, you are cute.

Chamomile: Bless your heart, thank you! We really should update what we look like...

M: OKAY YEAH WE SHOULD PUT OUT UPDATE PICS!!!!!! BUT THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!

Jynn: :o ! Thx!

@genosha-meiuqer asked: Weird question. If you woke up one morning and realized you could grow a beard made out of cotton candy, how happy would you be on a scale of 1-10; one being not happy, and ten being extremely happy.

Chamomile: Genosha, I would be so hype, you wouldn’t understand. Like a 10/10. Even if I did get tired of my new cool cotton candy beard like?? I can just wash it off?? Because cotton candy is water soluble?? I see no problems here?? 

M: maybe a 2. Too sticky.

Jynn: 7/10. Might get sticky and tedious (and I work in and pool so it'd probably get in the water) but endless free cotton candy? Yes.

Anon asked: Deadpool 2 boyfriend? yes or no?

Chamomile: consider this….boyfriend….and girlfriend…..dating both at the same time….

M: yus

Jynn: Yes on boyfriend but NOT at the expense of a lady characters story ending badly.

Anon asked: what's your dream job?

Chamomile: whatever makes me happy? Right now I’m happy serving coffee and doing odd writer jobs in exchange for gift cards (#hit me up y’all), but in the future I might want something different so like, it depends as I grow!

M: Creative Producer in Hollywood!!

Jynn: Aaaa I wanna work in entertainment. Running tech, performing, whatever. Gotta be near that world.

Anon asked: Are you a part of any fandoms? Which ones?

Chamomile: oh jeeze well uhhhhh -- I still hold homestuck dear to my heart, but I’ve mostly moved into podcasts (SAYER, The Adventure Zone, WTNV, Carpe DM) and a lot of like, writing niche groups with my friends? If I can count those as ‘small fandoms’.

M: soooooo many: Nightvale, Merlin, Doctor Who, Supernatural, Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, etc. Too many.

Jynn: Still Homestuck like Chamomile. Various Nexflix series: Voltron, Stranger Things. Miraculous Ladybug too. Lots of Max Fun and Night Vale Presents podcasts, McElroy products. I work about 60 hours and week so I like things I can listen to while doing other things.

Anon asked: If you were a dragon, what would you hoard?

Chamomile:....scraps of paper. I have so many. I write down AU ideas and story lines on them and then just like, shove them into my bags and pockets and forget about them.

M: pens. so many pens.

Jynn: Useless cute stuff/LUSH products/stim toys probably.

Anon asked: M, did you draw the illustrations in your piece "The Beacon"?

M: I made it in photoshop, yeah! If anyone is curious, here’s the link to the fic (https://drive.google.com/file/d/0BxP7qW60hE6fUmdSWDJMNHBhRGs/view?usp=sharing). The first draft was written by Admin Chamomile for a speed write but adapted and extended by Admin M just for fun. Go for it and read it if you’d like!!

(Chamomile: just gonna….slide this first draft right here….shhhhhh)

Anon asked: How long would you survive in a zombie apocalypse?

Chamomile: hopefully until humanity can find the cure, lmao

M: maybe a month. maybe.

Jynn: Mmmmm no.

Anon asked: Which Never Book quote is your favorite?

Chamomile: “What were you thinking in that last moment between life and oblivion?” Jynn: “So you take another hit, and sick into a whiskey flavored kiss because he’s not there to tell you no.”

Anon asked: Unicorn or Pegasus?

Chamomile: Unicorn! No real reason why. M: Pegasus. Fly bitches. Jynn: Pegasus is more utilitarian.

Anon asked: this is probably too late for ata, but have you ever wanted to write a piece where the characters are southern but you don't know how to write their drawl or accent or dialect? (currently going thru this for the walking dead)

Chamomile: This sounds like a really interesting “How Do I Write” segment soooooo check back on Thursday ;D 

M: ^^^^^^^^^^

Jynn: Not this specific situation. I live in Missouri so I know well how they talk lmao. I have run into something similar with an Irish character though, lots of research!!