#I’ve never had birthday related dread before but oh boy it’s here now!

[caterpillarinacave]

oh. The dread.

#I’ve never had birthday related dread before but oh boy it’s here now! #Usually I’m happy as a clam and ecstatic but I’m feeling very… hollowed out I suppose? #… I might be a wee bit depressed 🤏 #Maybe I can sleep for three weeks straight #For some reason the “it’s been XXX years since trauma hung happened. It’s been XXX years. It was XXX years ago” is much more crushing- #Than usual. Usually it’s only a little crushing. It’s somewhat suffocating rn. Lord I’m ridiculous #let’s see if anyone I know outside my family remembers my birthday lol #Sorry for being a downer I try really hard not to vent on here I just don’t really have anywhere else to express my feelings

[scottymcgeesterwrites]

Ambiguous

There has been something I need to write about and shout into the void. It has been tearing me apart, and I don’t know how people will react elsewhere, so I figured this was the safest place. This will be the soft reveal before even speaking about it to my friends. Or maybe I will never speak about it ever again. Maybe I will feel fine after writing it this way.  For my entire life, people have mistaken me for being Indian, to the point where actual Indians walk up to me and start speaking in their dialect. My mile-long blank stare makes them realize that I am not Indian, and one of two things happen - they either apologize and explain they mistook me for Indian, or they exclaim, “You’re NOT Indian?”

I’m Cuban and Colombian. I grew up in New Jersey. I am an American citizen but it gets confusing when you take into account that my mother flew to Santiago, Chile to have me there because of a clinic that specialized in geriatric pregnancy at the time, so my “birthplace” reads Chile on my passport. That’s always a mouthful to have to explain and it further confuses people, so I end up saying, “I was born in New Jersey”.  My skin tone is best described as ambiguous. I could be many things. I’ve gotten Middle Eastern, Indian, and specifically “Egyptian”. I have no idea why “Egyptian” but. Whatever.  I have always lived in some liminal space where people ask the dreaded question, “What are you?” Now here’s the most frustrating thing of all - not everyone who has asked me that was white. Growing up, I thought that I could relate to someone who wasn’t white to understand how I feel. Black people have asked me that. Indian people have asked me that. Middle Eastern people have asked me that. Cubans and Colombians have asked me that.  Throughout my youth, I was paranoid that maybe I was adopted or something, given how people didn’t seem to connect me with my parents. I was told that my Cuban side hails from Spain, but my Colombian side is shrouded in mystery. My dad never liked to talk about my family. I never knew anyone past my grandparents. Well, I did meet my great-grandmother once when I was seven, but she had practically turned back into a baby at that point, banging on the table demanding food and needing to be spoon-fed. My own people don’t recognize me, and they often say things like, “You don’t LOOK Latino!” or “What? You’re LATINO?” and the best one yet “You don’t SOUND Spanish!” The worst offenders, however, would laugh and say, “¡Pareces Hindu!” which means “You look Hindu!” Hindu is the religion, dumbass. Anyone, and I mean anyone, can be racist and slip some “micro-aggression”. I am not fluent in Spanish, but I can write and understand every word in Spanish. I often inadvertently offend Spanish-speaking people when I reply to them in English when they thought they were being sneaky by talking in Spanish around me.  The reason I don’t speak Spanish as fast as my peers is because of two reasons:  1. My parents at the time when I grew up believed in the misconception and pseudoscientific belief that children will be “confused” if two or more languages are spoken in the house.  2. Central New Jersey, where I grew up, hadn’t yet seen many Hispanic people, so locals at the time often leered at people who spoke Spanish in public.  When my mother took me to our local Gymboree, I spotted a butterfly and shouted in Spanish, “¡Mariposa! ¡Mariposa!”. The other mothers kept staring at me, and then distanced themselves from us.  The weirdest thing ever was experiencing white people who studied the Spanish language better than me and making fun of me for actually being Spanish but being unable to speak it fluently. I had a crush on this girl whom I’ll call “Anjy” in freshman year of college. It took me until now to realize that I think she had a Latino fetish. Anjy only exclusively went out with Latino men, but never seemed to openly admit it. The only thing she did admit was that, “I can only be with a man who speaks Spanish. It’s so important to me.” So obviously I wasn’t a contender, despite being Latino. Anjy doesn’t have an ounce of Spanish in her. None. But she studied it since high school and fell in love with it and became Spanish’s #1 fan. I was so jealous of how fluent she was. She could roll her r’s and speak it beautifully. Since we became friends, I said to her, “Oh, I can finally practice my Spanish with someone!” We tried, but she laughed at me and said, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. You sound like a gringo.” It’s a very topsy-turvy world where some white girl uses a derogatory term on me, a derogatory term from my culture that describes an outsider, used to describe me. She went to Costa Rica after we graduated, lived there for a few years, and came back home with a husband.  (That’s when I fully realized just how much she fetishized us.) A few years ago, my now-fiancée gifted me a DNA test for my birthday. That came out of left field for me, and opened up a range of emotions that I wasn’t ready for. She said she remembered how I wondered aloud why I looked the way I looked and about my ancestry.  I sat on the DNA test for a while. 

I stared at it. 

I held the kit in my hands. 

I opened it and closed it.  What if I really was Indian? What if I found out something that made me feel so much worse? But how bad could it be? I was also wary about the company keeping my DNA for nefarious reasons. However, luckily enough, my fiancée had bought the kit from AncestryDNA - the one DNA company that has responded to people saying they would delete their DNA at their request. I bit the bullet and sent my sample.  When the test came back, I opened it up and everything made sense. It made so much sense that I laughed out loud. It’s so funny how nobody has guessed the only other possibility for my skin tone that is what I actually am.  I am pretty much half native to the Americas.  I’m not sure what that’s called. Native American seems to be associated exclusively to North America. So Native South American? Native to the Americas? Native American (et al)? The Colombian side can be traced through turmoil in South America, up through Mesoamerica, and into North America. So many spots lit up all over the Americas. And like the Cuban side said, I was indeed from Spain as well.  I was split right down the middle. 50/50. The native side and the European side were practically screaming at each other in my genes. I felt as though a great weight had been lifted from me that I didn’t even know was there. I knew for a fact that I was my parents’ son. I had an explanation for why I look the way I look, and it made sense and it was obvious. It didn’t end there though.  I didn’t feel Native American. I had no cultural connection to anything “native”. I tried thinking in terms of my personality though. I always had a strong belief in saving the land and respecting the dead. I did vandalize a construction site back in my high school days to preserve farmland. My family did like to decorate the house with Aztec and Mayan statues. Aside from that though, I had about as much personal connection to native culture as Olive Garden does to Italy. The thing about my parents being from Cuba and Colombia is that those were two very violent and turbulent places in the past century. After I tell people where my families hail from, they always asked me with wide-eyes, “Oh have you been there???” Well, I dunno man. If you have any inkling of what’s going on the world you would know the awkward relationship that the United States has had with Cuba, and what it means to be a fucking exile. And the fact that Colombia has seen gang wars for the entirety of my life. So no. I haven’t. When I was a little boy I asked my parents if we would ever visit Colombia or Cuba, but they told me we shouldn’t go back. Colombia was violent, and Cuba’s government watched everyone. My mother was afraid of what would happen if she tried going back. Maybe they wouldn’t let her, or us. Maybe they’d let us through but I wouldn’t even be allowed to return if they knew I was the son of an exile. Worse yet, they might detain my mother. You never know when your family had beef with the government and was told to leave.  And what really drives a knife in my heart is hearing people ask that really annoying question. “Have you visited???” As if they were hot and exotic touristy locales. No. Because my parents were forced to flee, because they needed a better life.  “Wouldn’t your mom love it if you got married in Cuba? She would get to visit her home!”  You don’t get the trauma she has. You don’t understand how much of a toll it would take on her to return home and see all the things she once knew and love gone or tarnished. She received word recently that the farmhouse she grew up in now became a restaurant. The house that my grandfather built by hand. Strangers now sit and eat there. Maybe tourists. The hotel that my great-grandfather used to own now doesn’t belong to us anymore - the government said it was theirs. There is nothing for her to go back to but loss.  I felt distraught when I saw a former college classmate who has become an Instagram influencer immediately visit Cuba once travel restrictions were eased. She posted all about it and acted as if she were an expert about it. She used to be a lawyer in Washington D.C. until she decided to “take hold of her life” and “follow her dream” and go to Bali and now lives everyday in tropical paradise. It seemed like some people were pointing out the hypocrisy in her posts about life given the lifestyle she leads, since she felt the need to say something about it. She made a video where she tried to relate to her followers. She said how “it’s still hard” for her, that she “has to work every day”, and meanwhile literally the next fucking day she posts a picture of her having lunch by a waterfall, or napping in her hammock by the beach. But when she visited Cuba, and took pictures and wrote a long post about the country, I just lost it. She met up with some other white Instagram influencer friend, and they took selfies at a café and lectured about the region and--- That’s supposed to be my country, my culture. I’m supposed to feel that way about my people, not you. I went to a wedding recently in July. This black man slapped me on the back after I cracked a joke and said, “Hey, where you from?”

“New Jersey.” He laughed. “No, but really though. Where are you from?” “New Jersey.” “I mean originally. Your background. What are you?” It was the first time I had been asked that question since I got back my DNA test results, and for some reason it hit me so much differently.

I really wanted to say, “I don’t know.” It’s ironic how knowing what I am made me feel more confused, more alone and more isolated than ever before. I am bad at speaking Spanish, and when I try to practice with other Spanish-speaking people they laugh at me and say, “You sound like a gringo” and say they can’t bear to practice with me. I don’t look Latino. I might look Indian or I might look Middle Eastern. With me, everyone assumes things about me, no matter what they are. Some people have the luxury of automatic and unspoken assumptions about their background. Then there’s me. Not quite tan, not quite white. I don’t raise enough suspicion at the airport to warrant a search but at the same time I have to jump over one extra hurdle when they ask me one extra question: “Where are you from?” or “How long are you staying here?” or “What are you here for?” It’s very subtle and deceptively innocent. Nobody else who is pasty white gets asked any questions. They just stamp their passport and wave them away. I’m just ambiguous enough to warrant that extra step - just in case, you know? I envy people so much who can have a clear culture and place to point and say, “I’ve been there. I’ve been where I come from.” I envy people who can recognize all the idiosyncrasies of their family’s region. I don’t belong to any country or culture or identity. There are only a few scant pieces of culture that my parents passed on to me. “Oh, on Christmas we do this” or “We say this once and a while. That was a common expression there.” I envy people with huge families who have not been estranged by government and bloodshed or lost to time. I envy people who can trace their families back to their grandfathers and great-grandfathers and great-great-grandmothers. As a kid I wish I was able to say something like, “My great-granddaddy fought Nazis in the war!” I will never know anyone beyond that one old great-grandmother who no longer recognized anyone’s face. Everyone else is a name on a tombstone, or a whisper in vague oral history. I envy people who can firmly say, “I am *insert nationality here*” Because I always mumble at that phrase.  I am. . .a. . . I am from. . . . uh I am. . .  I am. 

#onlife #culture #racism #ethnic minorities #ethnicity #cuba #cuban #colombia #colombian #spanish #hispanic #latino #spain #race #personal #identity #brown skin #tan skin #black #white #ambiguous #india #indian #english #language #native american #native #aztec #mayan #maya

[oboevallis]

after watching the episode I was thinking if maybe u could write one about Amelink with scout their first days at home and the baby crying all night and not letting anyone sleep thank u

two cakes

thank you so much for the prompt!!! i hope everyone’s staying safe and doing well just realized i didn’t follow the prompt whatsoever i am so sorry!!!

“Meredith’s gonna kick us out isn’t she?” Link nervously asked as he watched his girlfriend paced with their newborn baby.

“She’s not going to kick us out.” Amelia said, stress evident in her voice.

“Of course she’s going to kick us out, her kids aren’t getting any sleep, Maggie’s not getting any sleep, she’s not getting any sleep, and we’re not getting any sleep.” Link uncharacteristically ranted.

“Link, I don’t know if you’ve watched the news recently but Seattle’s just got the country’s first Covid-19 case. Merediths obviously going to be a superhero and is going to be doing research and helping, so someone’s going to have to watch her kids. And that someone is going to be us.”

“Hopefully it’ll be fine, we’re quarantining and taking precautions. This thing will just breeze over.” Link optimistically stated, trying to keep a smile even though he didn’t entirely believe what he was saying.

“We may be doing these things, but other people aren’t.” The tired mother passed the crying baby to her boyfriend. “Here, take him.”

“We’re never going to sleep ever again are we?”

“No.” Amelia sighed as she rubbed her temples. The door then abruptly opened to reveal a disheveled Meredith. “Ugh, Meredith we’re so sorry.” The general surgeon then took the baby from the mans arms and maneuvered him so he was on his tummy leaning against her arm rubbing his back, ceasing his wailing into whimpers.

“I hate you Meredith.” Amelia groaned as she fell back on the bed.

“How’d you do that?” Link asked in disbelief as his son started to drift of to sleep in his aunts arms.

“In surgery if a certain angle doesn’t allow access, you rotate to another position.” Meredith then carefully lowered the baby into his crib.

“Thank you Meredith.” Amelia sighed in relief, as she watched the baby’s chest lower and rise rhythmically. “I really owe you.”

“You don’t owe me. You’ve been watching my kids for the longest time.” Amelia chuckled in agreement, Meredith watched the baby along with Amelia. “It’s so worth it though. For that baby smell, and their fingers, and their little smiles.”

“It really is.”

“How’s he holding up?” Meredith nodded over to Link who was already passed out.

“Ehh, he’s okay. He’s not really used to all the kids, and being locked on the house doesn’t help much.”

“He’s always been so great with the kids though.” Meredith was surprised to hear this.

“It’s different when it’s your kid I guess . I mean, I always knew what Ellis needed when she’d cry, but with Scout I just can’t tell.”

“You’ll figure it out, it just takes time.”

“I know.” Amelia sighed, her sister placing her hand on Amelias calf rubbing it affectionately.

“I have no idea what to do for Baileys birthday.”

“Yeah, can’t really throw a party.”

“And no ones in a partying mood.”

“Maybe just ask him what he wants? We’ll go from there.”

“And I’ll have Maggie make him his favorite lasagna.”

“It’ll be nothing like last years superhero party, but we’ll still make sure he has a great time.”

“Maybe we can get that boyfriend of yours to watch some marvel movies with him, no one else on this house can stand them.” Meredith chuckled as she stood up. “Well I’m going to sleep before that wailer of yours wakes everyone up again.”

“I’m sorry.” Amelia apologized as she pulled the covers over herself.

“Don’t be.” Meredith shook her head as she quietly closed the door.

_______________________________________

Bailey walked into the kitchen and sighed, everyone was sulking around. And he was tired of it, he just wanted to laugh. Hoping the baby could cheer him up he walked into the living room where his uncle was pacing around with the baby.

“Hey uncle Link.”

“Hey, what’s up almost birthday boy.”

“Nothing.” Bailey sighed plopping down in the couch.

“Yeah, it’s kind of boring huh?” The boy nodded in agreement. The boys mother than walked into the room and wrapped her arm around her son.

“What would you like for your birthday?” Meredith asked, wiping a piece of hair from her sons face. The boy contemplated for a minute before he formulated an idea.

“A cake.”

“Well of course there’ll be a cake.” Meredith chuckled.

“No, like just a cake for me.” The boy smiled.

“A whole cake?” The boy nodded vigorously in excitement. “Well alright then.”

“Thanks mommy.” The boy wrapped his arms around his mother’s neck.

“And you’re gonna bake this cake?” Link asked, trying to contain his laugh as he paced around.

“Of course not.” Meredith laughed, the man had obviously not caught onto how the house worked. “I’ll get Maggie to do that.”

“Of course.” Link laughed.

_______________________________________

The downstairs illuminated from the light from the kitchen, Maggie was baking while the two other woman watched. Silence lulled over the room, Bailey had just announced that all doctors living with others should book a hotel room to protect their families.

“I guess we should talk about Baileys email.” Maggie concluded as she stirred the cake batter. Meredith nodded in agreement, Amelia already anticipated what was going to be asked of her and Link.

“I absolutely hate to ask Amelia, especially since you and Link are handling a newborn in a pandemic no less. I just can’t leave my kids with a nanny, they trust you guys.”

“We totally understand. We’ve talked about this a bit.” Amelia nodded, fiddling with her tea bag.

“This is gonna be the last celebration I have with the kids for the foreseeable future.” Meredith sighed, obviously distraught.

“As much as I hate cooking this could be the last time in awhile where I’m actually making food.” Maggie realized, slowing her stirring to contemplate, all of her meals were going to be take out and the dreaded hospital food.

“We just gotta keep smiling.” Amelia didn’t want the last time in Maggie and Meredith could spend time with the kids, for a sad aura in the air. For the kids sake, but also her own.

“Hey, why do you think Bailey wanted his own cake?” Maggie asked as she separated the batter into two pans.

“Bailey hasn’t always been the best sharer.” Meredith smirked think back to all the fights he’d have with his sisters, making her sad that she’d be missing the chance to remediate many fights with her children. “It’s been what? Two weeks since Scout has come home, and Bailey has already hidden all of his dinosaur toys.”

“He hasn’t been as bad as Ellis though.” Maggie reminded to the incident last night where Scout was wailing and Ellis was sobbing, tightly holding onto her aunts legs as she was occupied with her baby.

“She’s not accustomed to not being the baby of the house.”

“Being the baby of the family is overrated.” Amelia said.

“Cant relate.” Meredith and Maggie said in sync, though they were sisters they had experienced their childhoods as only children.

“Hey, Maggie?” Amelia asked, recalling a question she had where she has never followed up. “Remember when we were in the scan room and you said you were to busy sexting it up with Winston? Who is that?”

“Oh.” Maggie giggled, trying to conceal her blush. “Just some guy.”

“You had sex at a conference with a random guy?” Meredith chuckled in disbelief.

“Not random, he was one of my students back at Tufts. We reconnected and had an amazing time, that’s all. I’m in Seattle and he’s in Boston, and there’s a global pandemic so it’s not going anywhere.”

“That’s what I said about Link.” Amelia sang in a song songy way. “And now we have a baby.”

“It really is nothing.” The youngest dismissed as she placed the cake pans into the oven.

“It’s obviously something.” Amelia said as she lowered herself down onto the couch, her sisters following in tow. Between the pandemic and the newborn the sisters hadn’t gotten much sleep.

“I’ve never fallen in love so quickly with someone.”

“Wow, it took you a long time to even admit you liked Jackson.” Meredith pointed out.

“It’s just different.”

“It’s always different when it’s the right one.” Meredith sighed, Amelia nodded in agreement trying to contain her smile.

“Links the one huh?” Maggie asked.

“He definitely is.” The sisters sat in a content silence, no kids were begging for attention and they blocked out the thoughts of a global pandemic. The timer on the oven the beeped loudly and Maggie jumped up before it could wake any of the sleeping children. As Maggie iced the cakes Meredith turned the news on damping the mood again, nighttime was the only time they could find out what was going on in the world because Zola was too smart for her own good and catch on quickly to the severity of the issue.

“It’s going to be okay.” Amelia concluded, trying her best to obtain her boyfriends optimism.

“It’s going to be okay.” Maggie smiled as she looked at the finished product of her cakes, the one for Bailey and the one for everyone else. “I have to say this is one of my favorite cakes I’ve decorated so far.”

“It’s definitely your best.” Meredith whispered in content, basking in the silence as her sister had turned off the TV. Cries then interrupted the peace, causing Amelia to say her good nights and tend to the crying baby.

“It’s going to be okay.” Maggie whispered to herself as Meredith also made her way upstairs. She placed the cakes into the fridge, and hoped tomorrow would be a happy day for Bailey despite the world being in shambles.

#amelia shepherd #amelink #atticus lincoln #baby amelink #greys anatomy #greysanatomy #greys fanfic #greys anatomy fanfic #maggie pierce #meredith grey #scout lincoln #bailey shepherd #zola shepherd #ellis shepherd

[ladyhallen]

Holding Secrets Like a Crystal Chapter 3

Read on AO3|FFN

Monica never did get her answers.

Despite being the second to the Marshall of the Crownsguard and basically the one who ran the entire place when the Marshall wasn’t there, she still wasn’t the Marshall. There were some things that were confidential even to her.

And Cor’s mission that took a year…that was clearly beyond confidential.

She decided to keep the name, and Cor’s secret grief, close to her heart.

Occasionally, she would hear his musing on what Prompto was doing. Finally, years of waiting, and the image of a blonde baby held in Cor’s arms surfaced and Monica immediately broke into a coughing fit.

By Bahamut’s fucking shield, did Cor get a kid? And what happened to him? He was clearly alive. Perhaps he was adopted out.

No wonder Cor mourned. He had to give away his son.

Monica had a headache. That was what she got for being so curious.

.

.

“Dustin, I swear to Bahamut, don’t you dare – “ Monica started.

“I triple double dog dare you,” he said. “To a drinking contest, lieutenant.”

Oh Astrals, and he did it in front of witnesses too.

Monica sighed. “Fine. Fuck. Fine.”

.

Ten drinks later, and Monica stared at the bottom of her glass with a quiet expression of immense sadness.

“Cor’s just so nice,” she told Dustin earnestly. “He’s so nice. The best person ever. And not one of you fuckers are nice to him.”

Dustin blinked. “You’re related?” he asked because he was drunk too and selective hearing was a thing.

“By brain!” Monica announced. “We’re related by brain. The brain cell.”

It made immense sense to her. Must have made sense to Dustin too, because he nodded.

“Yes, the brain cell,” Dustin mused. “His sword is so cool.”

Cor arrived at one point, because Monica noticed the rhythm of his brain radio.

“Thank you,” Cor said dryly, making Dustin jump a foot in the air. “For appreciating my sword, Ackers.”

There were several wolf whistles at that, as Dustin blanched at the unintended double entendre.

“S-sir, I didn’t think,” Dustin stammered.

“No you did not,” Cor glowered. He ushered Monica up, who at that point was seeing double. She staggered and he supported her firmly.

“Come now, to bed with you, kid,” he murmured.

Monica blearily looked in his direction with a drunken smile. “Best human ever,” she muttered, before passing out.

.

.

Monica was used to intense headaches that caused her to vomit due to her telepathy. Hangovers were nothing.

The guard, who had expected her to take a leave of absence after the ten shots she did, looked awestruck as she worked like nothing had happened the night before.

“Don’t you get hangovers?” Dustin demanded.

His loud voice made her head throb, but Monica didn’t even show it. She was used to the pain.

“Of course,” she said. “But my pain tolerance is especially high for headaches.”

What the fuck, Monica. “Monica, you must have a head made of steel,” Dustin said.

Cor, who she hadn’t noticed lurking because of the distraction provided by her hangover, loomed. “Monica, why do you have a pain tolerance for headaches?” he demanded. What the hell, kid?

She sighed. “I am prone to debilitating headaches, ever since I was a child. No medicine has ever helped, so I’ve learned to work through it.”

A spike of pain made her brow wrinkle involuntarily before she smoothed it over again. It was too much to hope that Cor wouldn’t notice. Because he did.

“Monica, come with me to medical while we get you diagnosed with actual competent doctors,” Cor ordered.

Monica hated doctors. With a passion. After one doctor had recommended her to be exorcised, she wanted nothing to do with them.

“I’m fine,” she said. “But if you insist sir.”

“I insist.”

Astrals, he was so stubborn.

She radiated extreme dislike the entire time they were in medical. Even if the doctor diagnosed her with better, stronger medication, Monica stared at Cor.

Fuck, this kid is so stubborn. “Have a rest day, Monica,” he said. “If you continue working, I’ll extend it to five days.”

He was absolutely serious. Monica finally allowed a scowl to cross her face. “Sir,” she saluted with a frown.

Monica packed her things and passed by his highness with his retainer. Monica saluted him while stepping aside, and Noctis smiled and waved.

Despite being a very reserved boy, Noctis’s mind was loud. Louder than his father and certainly louder than Dustin.

Oh, it’s Monica! She’s so cool. Scary cool. “Hi lieutenant! You’re going home?” he asked, looking at the bag on her back.

Monica smiled at him, ridiculously fond of the boy. “Yes, your highness. I have a terrible headache and the Marshall has ordered me home.”

She says she has a headache but looks as unmoved as a cucumber. Wow that’s a crazy pain tolerance, Ignis Scientia thought.

“Oh, you’re sick!” Noctis exclaimed. “You better hurry home so you can rest and feel better.”

Monica saluted again. “Thank you, your highness.”

Man, the last time Prompto had a headache, he had to stay home for a week. Monica is really cool. Noctis said, turning away.

Monica’s feet only faltered for a second before she continued walking.

She was giddy with amusement and probably high from the pain and medicine. But still, she had finally found a lead to Prompto.

.

.

Prompto, it turned out, was a blonde teenager with a smile like sunshine and a very cheerful disposition.

Monica, looking at him, realized that Prompto’s everything must have come from the other parent. Because even if the Marshall was in a good mood, she had never seen him smile that much.

“Are we sure we’re authorized to do this?” Dustin asked as she commandeered several city cameras to stalk the boy on his way home.

“Nope,” Monica said blithely. “But if anyone asks, just blame me.”

Hot damn. “Alright boss, as you do. Why are we taking pictures of him though?”

Monica smiled. “It’s for an early birthday present. Also, get me a file of Prompto’s parents.”

Dustin did so with a frown the entire time. Well, maybe she hadn’t said anything when she made Cor sign the forms for Monica to do monitor duty but since Cor didn’t ask, she didn’t say anything. If Cor didn’t know, the King couldn’t scold him.

“Boss,” Dustin said, dread in his voice. “His parents…are the Argentums? But. They’re hardly in Insomnia. I checked their travel records and…”

Monica looked over Dustin’s monitor and frowned. “Check their bank accounts. Are they hiring anyone to take care of him the entire time? And when did this start? Prompto’s what, fourteen?”

Dustin searched and brought up their bank accounts, probably hacking into the Insomnia’s banking guild. But he didn’t say anything. Which was one of the reasons why she really liked Dustin. He didn’t ask unnecessary questions like Cor.

“They started leaving regularly when he was six, boss. No records of anyone hired to watch over him.”

Monica wanted to curse. She wanted this to be a nice surprise for Cor. A little bit of info on his kid. Maybe he signed stipulations that he couldn’t voluntarily seek out the child. So Monica did it for him. But if his kid was being neglected - !

“I’ll back check the camera records of the ones near his house. Is he – “ Monica brought up old files. It was a good thing that the Citadel recorded everything.

“That could take days!” Dustin complained even as he did as he was told.

“Luckily, I already signed our overtime forms,” Monica said.

Dustin sighed. This is revenge for the hangover.

Monica had to hold back giggles.

.

.

It took reviewing the tapes for three days with overtime, but they had everything.

It wasn’t pretty.

“This is a neglect case,” Dustin sighed. After the second day, he’d gotten pretty invested. “Monica, we can’t even report it because the evidence we gathered isn’t authorized by anyone!”

Monica waved that complaint away. “That’s fine. I can just get Cor to sign it and backdate it for me.”

Dustin stared, wide eyed, as Monica did just that.

She presented the files to Cor while Dustin watched from safe distance. Cor’s frown went from his normal frown to a glowering thundercloud that he usually wore blowing up bases in Niflheim.

“Monica,” Cor finally said, tone foreboding.

Monica crossed her arms. “Your kid, sir.”

Cor stood up and Dustin bit his fingers, very sure that Cor was going to - ! Hug her. Cor hugged her.

“Thank you,” Cor said, voice very soft and gentle. “Thank you. I’ll take care of this now.”

Monica nodded, her face flushed. “Yes sir. Don’t worry about the guard, I can take care of everything here.”

He smiled at her, and Dustin blinked. “Best human ever,” Cor said, patting her head.

Dustin and Monica stared blankly as Cor walked away with purpose.

As one, they looked at each other.

“Did he just – “ Monica asked.

“Yup.” And like that, Dustin started to laugh at the awestruck look on Monica’s face.

.

.

Monica still wasn’t sure if Cor knew she could read minds.

Cor didn’t ask, and Monica never said anything.

Still, it was reassuring that Cor never doubted her at all. If she said anything, Cor would believe it without hesitation. Dustin took this as Cor playing favorites.

“That just speaks of my track record,” Monica said. “How many arrests and cases have I solved while working for the guard?”

Dustin dully repeated, “More than any guard has ever done since Cor Leonis himself.” I should know, I checked the facts myself.

Monica nodded. “There. So you see, it is not favoritism.”

“You’re a brat, boss,” Dustin said, to everyone’s resounding “Oooohh’s!”

Monica held a shit eating grin in Dustin’s direction and said, “Still your boss, Dustin.”

.

.

Prompto moved in with Cor, and Monica knew this because the blonde baby that Cor usually imagined when he thought of Prompto, morphed into a blonde teenager with a wide smile.

Not that Cor said anything after he stalked off with the intent to skewer the Argentums with his sword.

“Just to you know,” Cor said. “Prompto will be staying with you when I have my solo missions from the king.”

Monica stared. “Am I equipped to babysit teenagers?” she asked.

“More than I am,” he said. “I didn’t even have a guest room when he moved in.”

The image of a sword storage rose in Cor’s mind and Monica had to hold back a gasp. Fucking Astrals, that was a lot of swords.

“Of course sir,” Monica said after a moment. “He seems to have settled in well despite the swords.”

Which. Uhm. Was a mistake. Because Monica just either a.) admitted to stalking them or b.) read Cor’s mind about it.

Cor stared at her for a long time. Eventually, he slowly said, “Yes. He did.”

Both of them stared at each other, before going back to their respective paperwork.

Honestly, this don’t ask don’t tell policy they had going on was sometimes very awkward, especially if Monica slipped and forgot to pretend to be normal.

Fuck I need a drink, Cor thought, which Monica echoed fervently. Damn, she needed new hobbies.

#fanfiction #ffxv #final fantasy xv #monica elshett #cor leonis #prompto argentum #telepathy au #monica is just like stalking is for your own good! #and cor is just if i don't know anything about it then regis can't give me shit for it later

[edorazzi]

Well, here we are again! Twitter said yes to a review post for a Miraculous magazine that suddenly showed up in my local area. ‘Tis the season after all, and by that I mean someone bought it for me as a joke birthday gift and I was way too happy about that.

I’ve done previous reviews of the Miraculous Christmas calendar, Easter egg set, superhero fashion dolls and action figures, so let’s dive into the unknown world of merchandising yet again!

(As always, if you enjoy my posts, please consider checking out my Twitter page or supporting me on Patreon for lots of bonus content!)

4 FREE GIFTS! PACKED WITH ACTIVITIES! MEET THE KWAMIS! PRANKS & LOLS! CUT-OUT MEMES! FANGIRL ALERT! NAIL ART! 100% OFFICIAL! I’m overwhelmed! It feels like I’m having a seizure just from the packaging!!! 

I should preface this by saying I haven’t bought a magazine like this in years. Possibly ever. I read things like the Beano, Animals & You and the odd Disney Princess zine when I was a kid but I have no idea what to expect from a free-gift-packed kiddie magazine in 2019. If the outside is anything to go by we’re in for a wild ride.

I’m noticing that it says “Miraculous #20″ on the back. Does this mean I’ve missed 19 previous issues? I’m genuinely a little upset by that. My local area is a complete dry zone for Miraculous so I haven’t had the chance to pick these up.

First step: let’s separate everything out and get a look at these freeeee giftssss. Except they aren’t free, because this magazine was like £3.99. This does seem to be the current trend - it’s kinda rare to see any kids’ zines without the excess packaging crammed with ‘free’ stuff. Is it really too expensive to just produce the magazine? Probably, in this economy.

Chat Noir is revealed on the cover! He was on the back of the plastic jacket, but it’s still nice to see the kids as a front-cover duo. Apparently we’re going to learn to draw Pollen, too, which sounds fun. I’m actually liking the look of the gifts as well, but we’ll get into those in a minute.

This hairbrush............. is adorable. Oh my god. It’s pretty cheap and flimsy but it functions the way it’s supposed to, and the Ladybug design has been taken into account in a better way than “it’s red/black, that counts” (lest we forget the UTTER BULLSHIT of the Christmas calendar, and YES I’m still mad about that). I don’t know how well I expect the outer sticker to last, but if it can take a bit of wear and tear this would be an adorable little travel brush. Nicely done, lads!

These nail stickers? Also adorable. They remind me of the kiddie makeup sets I had when I was little, back in the early 00s when plastic stick-on nails and decals were all the rage. Are they still a thing? That’s nice to know.

There are 13 designs (that I can count) - a Queen Bee mask, Chat Noir pawprint cake, macaron, cupcake, heart-print cookie, Ladybug stud, flower, lightning bolt, love heart, Marinette heart, bee, fox tail and star. The majority are directly related to the show and that makes them feel special. No Carapace though? :(

I’ve put a little Marinette heart on my furthest finger. At the time of typing this up (about a day later) it’s still firmly in place. I haven’t really knocked it around, granted, but it’s not flimsy enough to fall off after five minutes either. It’s also really cute to look at. Guess I’m still a decal-loving 2004 girl at heart......

These stickers though!!! Wow! They’re those holographic and slightly-puffy kind and they feel like pretty good quality, and the designs are so cute! I can’t fault these, they’re absolutely adorable. I immediately want to stick them everywhere.

So I’ve stuck them everywhere. I’m especially proud of the light switch pun. My room looks GREAT.

I saved these “mystery stickers” for last because I’m weak for the thrill of mystery bags, and there wasn’t anything on the packaging to indicate what kind of designs to expect. And OH!!!! OH, IT’S MY BOY!!!! Look at him!!!! 

I made jokes with the Christmas calendar about all the Chat Noir items being stolen ahead of time, but that’s definitely NOT the case with this magazine. I have been SPOILED with the presence of my cat son.

These stickers are similar to the sticker sheet (and the Chillin’ Out design is reprinted), but they’re puffier and non-holographic. I’m deeply allured by the “decorate your phone or tablet” suggestion on the packet, but I’m going to see how the previous stickers withstand the wear-and-tear of my laptop lid before adding any more. If I damage these beautiful Adrien stickers I’ll be devastated.

Those are our free gifts! They’re actually very fun and cute, I’m really happy with them! I guess now it’s time to get into the magazine itself...........

I genuinely almost forgot the magazine was the main part of this package. I figured I was done, but we’ve barely even started! Here’s a splash page of the kwami. Kwami with a capital K? Kwamis? I still feel like it should be singular-lower-case-k-kwami. I’ve never been happy about this “miraculouses” business either.

But is that--

It IS!!!! It’s Nino!!! 

I guess this is the new flavour of Miraculous tie-ins. Now they’ve broadened out to a full team we’re seeing a lot more of Adrien alongside the girls, and Nino is the elusive hero who shows up once in a blue moon. At least this time his name isn’t in the title of the gotdam show.......

Anyway, I can see I’m supposed to draw my “fave Kwami”. Better get to it.

Felix just wants a break. Just one break. But not in this magazine.

Speaking of seeing more of Adrien (and, tragically, less of Nino), this is the kind of splash page I want to see! Both kids are here! The banner themed with Marinette’s signature flowers is a nice touch too; that’s associated with her arts ‘n’ crafts in the show already and it makes sense to apply it to the creative portion of this magazine too.

I LOVE the promotion of Chat Noir nails as something the little girls buying this magazine will definitely want to try. I’d expect them to do Marinette vs Ladybug nails, but instead we get a boyish option! Hell yeah!

I’m a little confused by the Queen Bee masks apparently going on the Chat Noir nails though. I guess they’re friends? Is this secret AdriChlo confirmation? Watch out, Marinette, Kagami’s not the one to be worried about.

SURE WOULD BE NICE TO HAVE SOME TURTLE STICKERS FOR AN ALL-BOYS THEME BUT I GUESS NOT HUH

Next up is a short merch catalogue (why would you put the big bold arrow pointing right to the underoos.....). Would those Chat Noir socks come in my size? Asking for me.

Then there’s......... this page. FANGIRL ALERT. God. It’s like the Ladyblog, if only the Ladyblog ever gave a heck about reporting what Chat Noir’s up to.

THE SPELL WAS BROKEN AND THE FANDOM IMPLODED WITH JOY.

I really have to wonder what age range this is meant for. Do kids know what a “fandom” is? Do little girls consider themselves “fangirls”? I guess most kids have enough internet access to figure it out these days (all the hashtags and LOLs and memes speak volumes), but I can’t imagine being young enough to fit the target range of this magazine while also knowing these terms. I dunno.

(Also, the definition of ‘implosion’ is ‘an instance of something collapsing violently inwards’, so I’m not sure that’s the word they’re looking for. Unless the return to the status quo in Dark Cupid and the continuing stagnation of the love square was enough to make people quit in frustration? Probably.)

I’m filling it in, of course. Because I must.

I gave up on the pre-approved ratings system pretty much right away, but I think this is an accurate rating of my LadyNoir opinions. 

I might be kinda cynical about it here, but I am actually pretty fond of how this magazine sells Ladybug and Chat Noir as a couple. The show’s portraying it as very onesided lately, with Chat pining over Ladybug who has absolutely no interest in him (Glaciator was a TERRIBLE episode and I’m still hurting from it), but reading this zine I’d guess they were already dating. It’s cheesy, but in a nice way.

I have to laugh at “the most amazing thing about this super duo is that they always look out for and protect each other” though. Chat’s usually pretty focused on LB, sure, but there are endless instances of LB using Chat as cannon fodder and just generally abandoning him to get mauled by akuma while she carries out her personal private plan to save the day. Maybe we’re just focusing on the better-written episodes, huh?

Moving ahead. I’ve been dreading this page since reading “Plaggs Pranks & LOLs” on the back of the packaging. I feel hatred in my very bones just looking at it.

I like that there’s ONE instance of the term “ladybird” in the joke column. This is a UK-based magazine and that IS the word we tend to use over here - “ladybug” is an Americanism - but it’s like they’re worried kids could have got to the middle of this magazine about a superhero named Ladybug and then not understand the bug jokes. Maybe whoever was writing this page slipped up?

OH NOOOOO. MARINETTE, NOOOOOOOOOO.

THIS IS WHY FELIX GOT RID OF YOU, PLAGG. THESE ARE ADRIEN’S PROBLEMS NOW.

(mmm whatcha saaaaay)

I mean........... YEAH, I guess, but we absolutely did see Plagg destroy Felix with an entire shelf of heavy books. I guess he’s nicer with Adrien. It’s all fun and games until someone has a nervous breakdown in the library.

I do love the concept of Tikki getting glitter-bombed by Plagg through the mail. She just curiously opens up the little letter which got slipped into Marinette’s purse, and-- WOOSH. One entire wall of Mari’s room is glittery except for a little Tikki-shaped silhouette. 

Next up is a two-page comic which is absolutely adorable! Look at those little chibis! The warm and soft colour palette! This is nicer than most of the official Miraculous comic book art I’ve seen, I hope they keep giving this artist work.

Nino’s here too (and he looks great!), and I like the touch of Marinette and Adrien playing as each other’s superhero characters. Adrien even wins the match, though I guess there’s something to be said about Ladybug beating Chat Noir (again)...... 

It does raise the question yet again of where this tie-in merchandise is coming from! They’ve had action figures, a movie, music video features, now an arcade game... Who’s getting the royalties here? Who’s profiting? Is this how Fu can afford to buy all those rare ingredients for the magic potions?

Over the page we have an activity to Design your Secret Lair! Right away I love the Marinette theme of the page, the soft pink and flowers, and the drawing space looking like a page in a binder with marker tabs and everything.

I have to design my secret lair, of course: 

What do you think? I’m very creative. I’ll need an adult to send in the drawing of my hideout but I think I’ve really got a shot at those unicorn headphones.

Now we’re on to puzzles and character pages. I don’t know what ol’ Gabe is doing trying to meet a 13 year old girl in the dead of night without telling anyone, you’d think if he’s got that much free time on his hands he could be spending it with his son.

I don’t know how those points in Ladybug’s power profile are awarded or what they mean, but you can tell this is a fan magazine. Official sources would have put her at a 10.

Standard House of Villains page! Most of these were good episodes but I’m deeply offended Riposte isn’t on here. Maybe her motives weren’t dramatic and cartoonish enough to be up in the ranks with Glaciator and Gorizilla?

“Cat Noir’s dad is also the evil Hawk Moth”, huh? I mean that’s not WRONG, but is it really something to put in his power profile when Adrien doesn’t even know yet??? Feels like we’re kinda jumping the gun on the poor boy. What if he picks up this magazine?

Apparently he’s one point weaker than Ladybug (seriously???), two points faster, equally as agile, one point less skilled and two points less cool. Despite all those lesses he still comes out at an equal 9, which is a relief! These kids are a team, putting either of them below the other would have been a big no.

I did the colouring page too, naturally. Je suis un artiste.

Now we’ve got a page fresh from the Ladyblog, a Miraculous quiz! Not a lot of excitement, but it’s nice to see Alya getting her own section.

I like that the qualifications of “you could be Ladybug herself!” are knowing what city Marinette lives in and what school she goes to. Well done, Mari! You’re doing your best!!!

TEACHER I AM SO HUNGRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

I gotta say, I’m not so sure about decorating donuts with fondant. I’ve never tried it so I could be wrong, but it feels like rolled icing instead of frosting(?) would be too heavy for an entire donut. The texture is totally different.

I mean I guess if you’re going to load your kids up on sugar you might as well go all the way. They’re going to look like they’ve eaten something horrible with all that black fondant, but they’ll have fun. Adrien would love these.

WHERE’S NINO. THIS IS JUST UNFAIR. You’ll have four out of five heroes, then a double of Marinette and Tikki? Maybe this just goes to show how little memorable dialogue Carapace has.

Though if “Spots On!” is Marinette’s dialogue and not Ladybug’s, why are the other transformation phrases attributed to Rena Rouge and Queen Bee instead of Alya and Chloé? Surely they could have picked something better for Marinette to justify having her on this list twice instead of Nino.

The next page brings us one of those flowchart quizzes! And ouch, yet again the absence of the other heroes is obvious. I can understand not including Chloé here since she’s technically not a “friendly” character yet, but no Nino? Alya and Marinette are close friends, but Adrien doesn’t really hang out with them without Nino around. Having the three of them together just seems strange.

I do like the little fashion page! They’re all cute and affordable and easy to find on the high street here. I’d love to see how other issues of this magazine are structured; is there a different fashion spot every time? Styles to channel each individual hero would be adorable.

Moving on to a tutorial for a Ladybug notebook! I would have made this, but I didn’t have the time nor a notebook to stick it to.

Between this and the donuts, it seems weird that these designs are based on, like... an actual beetle, eyes and antennae and all. Shouldn’t it be Ladybug’s symbol? These come across more like “fun animals” arts ‘n’ crafts instead of themed after Miraculous specifically. I think if I made this (or decorated the donuts) I’d miss out the head and match the spot pattern to Ladybug’s symbol. 

The hidden message design is adorable though. I can see this being a craft kids are super proud of.

Another activity page! I didn’t have a go at these but they’re pretty standard. It’s cute that the coded message designs are the same as the stickers and nail decals!

Also, apparently Ladybug’s ‘secret’ is “LB mask + heart + CN mask”, which was (somehow) stolen by Volpina. Is that the secret Hawk Moth was talking about earlier in the magazine? Is he blackmailing Ladybug with revealing she has a crush on Chat Noir? How did Volpina ‘steal’ this secret? Is LadyNoir finally reciprocated???? THIS IS A WHOLE EPISODE IN ITSELF, I NEED ANSWERS--

Next page we have an ad for another girly magazine (Quizzes! LOLs! Celebs! Cringes! Puzzles!). I think I’ll pass, no matter how appealing that giant microphone pen is. 

And a “Miraculous Identity” quiz! Tikki’s apparently super fickle with her wielders, three seasons of relentlessly praising Marinette and now she’s telling us we’re the Chosen Ones. You can’t fool me with those big ol’ eyes.

My inner superhero is Marvellous Fox, by the way. Though yet again I’m noticing we don’t have turtle options...................

And on the back cover... the memes. Oh, sweet lord, the memes. They’re hashtag-SoRelatable! And I can cut them out to keep! Oh boy!!!

Is this what kids do when they have limited internet access? Cut fresh memes out of magazines and carry them around? I need to know.

That’s a very sinister Ladybug at the bottom of the page though. What’s-- What’s she going to do to me if I don’t cut out and keep these memes. Ladybug what are you going to do if I d--

Well that brings us to the end of the magazine! And yet again I’m surprised by how much time it takes to just put a bunch of photos together and write about them.

This is a neat little magazine all in all! The ‘free gifts’ are pretty nice, there’s a fair amount of content and the whole thing is pretty cute for young fans of the show. I could see myself buying this again - if it ever shows up on shelves, Miraculous is so scarce around here that I fully expect it to disappear again after this one issue - just for the free junk, but it would be interesting to see how they’d structure different issues too!

I notice we never did get that promised tutorial on how to draw Pollen; the one advertised on the cover. Was the “draw your favourite Kwami” activity supposed to cover that? I’m not sure that really counts.

If you got this far, thanks for joining me on this Miraculous journey! We’ll meet again whenever I get another piece of weird ML merch to cover. Bien joué!

#miraculous ladybug #josie talks about things #josie's art #i really should get a review tag #ANYWAY there's a bit more art in this which isn't just the header image so give it a look! #and felix features a couple of times because WHY would he not on edorazzi dot com

[whumphoarder]

It’s My Party and I’ll Bite If I Want To

Summary: Peter grows venomous fangs on his sixteenth birthday and wrecks havoc at the Avengers compound. Tony’s pretty chill, all things considered.

Word count: 2,144

Genre: Crack, humor, whump

A/N: We all deal with our post-Endgame stress in different ways. Crackfic writing is mine.

Link to read on Ao3

Ned enters the lunch room, grinning broadly. “Hey man, happy birthday! What do you—” He suddenly cuts himself off, frowning at Peter’s mouth. “Dude. What’s up with your teeth?”

Peter rubs a hand awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I dunno… just kinda woke up like this,” he admits. He runs his tongue over the sharp edges of his newly elongated canines. They had certainly been a shock to see in the bathroom mirror that morning. “Maybe it’s like, well, you know how you get your twelve-year-old molars?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe they’re like that,” Peter concludes.

Ned squints at him. “Except you’re not twelve. And those aren’t molars.”

Peter shrugs, but he’s feeling rather defensive. “Same concept, probably. I don’t know, I’m not a doctor.”

Ned huffs out a quick laugh. “Sure you didn’t get bitten by any bats recently? Any cravings to drink human blood?”

Sudden anger flashes in Peter and his eyes narrow. “Shut up, Ned!” he snaps. “I’m not a fucking vampire!”

“Whoa! Hey, calm down,” Ned says holding his hands up in surrender. “I was just joking,”

The rage dies down almost as quickly as it cropped up. “Yeah, yeah, I knew that,” Peter mutters as he opens his lunch bag. “Sorry.”

As Peter pulls out a bright red apple from his bag and takes a bite, Ned opts to just change the subject. “So, got any plans for this weekend?” he asks. “Going out with May to celebrate or anything?”

Peter feels his body flush as anger flashes back to him. He slams the apple down onto the table. “What do you mean ‘going out with May’?” he demands. “Are you saying my only date could ever be my aunt?!”

Ned blinks at him. “That’s… not what I said at all,” he says slowly. “You okay man?”

“Yeah, sorry…” Peter says as the heat flushes away. “I’m just, kinda stressed I guess? Homework or, uh, something.”

“Uh huh,” Ned says, sounding unconvinced. “Sure.” His gaze falls to Peter’s apple. “Whoa,” he mutters.

Peter glances down and suddenly realizes that right around his bite mark, the apple is now shriveling up into a dark green decaying mess. “Huh,” he remarks. “That’s… That’s weird.”

X

“Hello, is this Mr. Stark?” the voice on the other end of the line asks.

“It is,” Tony confirms. A sense of dread is already filling him. A call to his personal cell from an unknown number never means good things. “And who is this?”

“This is Sharon Byron. I’m the assistant principal from Midtown School of Science and Technology,” the caller identifies. “We have you listed as the secondary emergency contact for Peter Parker. Is this correct?”

“That’s correct,” Tony says, his heart rate quickening. “What’s going on?”

“Well, he’s been causing a bit of a scene today,” she says briskly. “He’s gotten in multiple verbal altercations, both with students and staff members, as well as nearly biting a boy in his gym class. The school security officer and two teachers actually had to escort him out of the locker room."

“Peter? ” Tony questions, flabbergasted. He’s already texting Happy to bring the car around—thankfully he’s in the city today rather than upstate. “We’re talking about Peter Parker, right?”

“Yes sir,” Ms. Byron says. “He’s not making much sense either. The school nurse has been attempting to get a read on his temperature, but every time she approaches him with a thermometer, he tries to bite her.”

“Peter Parker is doing this?” Tony asks one last time. Then, before she can answer, he shakes his head to clear his thoughts. “Never mind, know what? It’s fine. On my way. ETA forty minutes.”

He hangs up the phone.

X

“No! I don’t want to leave!” Peter snaps at his mentor, who is standing in the doorway of the principal’s office, looking flummoxed. The kid bounces up and down slightly on the cushioned office seat. “This is a really comfy chair!”

“Peter, something is clearly off with you today,” Tony tries to reason with him. “I just want to get you checked out, and maybe—”

“No!” Peter cries, leaping to his feet, suddenly alive with white-hot fury. He charges Tony, whose eyes widen as he steps backward. “I don’t want to go! I don’t wan—” He stops mid-sentence as the feeling suddenly dissipates. It’s replaced by embarrassment. “Oh. Sorry,” he mumbles. “That was weird.”

“Little bit,” Tony huffs. He lowers his hand, which Peter suddenly registers has been hovering over the armor housing unit on his chest. “You feeling okay, kiddo?”

“Yeah, uh, actually it’s been a little weird all day,” Peter admits, rubbing at the back of his neck. “One second I’m fine, and the next I just wanna tear everyone to pieces, you know?”

Tony scoffs. “Sure, kid. It’s called a board meeting.”

X

Two hours later, Peter is at the compound, leaning back against a chair in Bruce’s lab as the doctor peers into his open mouth.

“So they just appeared this morning?” Bruce asks, poking at the canines with a gloved finger.

“Yeah, ‘retty ‘uch,” Peter mumbles in reply, mouth still open. “Think they’re ‘oisonous or somethin’.”

Bruce adjusts his glasses as he leans in closer. “Venomous,” he corrects absently.

Peter frowns. “Huh?”

“Your teeth would be venomous, not poisonous.”

Anger flashes through Peter again and he snaps at Bruce, who yelps and only barely manages to pull back his hand before Peter bites off the doctor’s finger. “Are you saying I’m stupid?!” Peter demands.

Bruce is taken aback. “Um… no? Of course not. It’s a common mistake, I just thought you’d want to know so that—”

“Don’t take it personally,” Tony remarks without glancing up. He’s been so quiet that Peter nearly forgot he was there, leaning against the wall on the other side of the room and tapping something into his phone. “He’s been doing that all day. The two-hour drive back to the compound was a doozy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Peter exclaims, turning on Tony now.

“Well,” Tony says casually, “when you threatened that pigeon after he took a crap on the car windshield by screaming that next time you see him or any of his ‘idiot feathered friends’, you’d use instant kill mode, that seemed a little extreme is all I’m saying.”

The fury engulfs Peter and suddenly he can’t take it anymore. He jumps out of his seat and starts charging towards his mentor.

“Peter!” Bruce exclaims, jumping forward to grab his shoulder. Peter only whips around, rage in his eyes. Without a second’s hesitation, he sinks his fangs into the doctor’s forearm.

Bruce’s eyes go wide before he collapses to the ground in a heap.

X

“I’m fine, Tony,” Bruce insists calmly from his position on the floor. He’s lying flat on his back, his body eerily still. “This really could be worse.”

“You literally haven’t moved a muscle from the neck down in thirty minutes,” Tony argues, lowering himself down to sit on the floor beside the (hopefully) temporarily paralyzed doctor. “How is this in any way fine?”

“I think it’s starting to wear off,” Bruce says. “Look. I’m wiggling my fingers right now.”

Tony’s gaze falls to Bruce’s hand, which is not moving in the slightest. “Nope.”

“Oh.” Bruce sighs. “Well, on the bright side, the paralytic toxin in Peter’s fangs doesn’t seem to be affecting any respiratory processes or major organ functionality. All things considered, I think we lucked out.”

“Uh huh, sure, Bruce.” He glances back over his shoulder to where the kid is currently sitting on the couch in the corner of the lab, staring at the Magic Bullet blender infomercial playing on the TV with a dazed look in his eyes. “So, what’s our game plan?”

“Well, I’ve had some time to think while I’ve been down here,” Bruce begins, “and I’m pretty sure the aggression is related to the fangs.”

“No shit,” Tony scoffs.

“Logically then, the solution would be removing the fangs,” the doctor goes on.

Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “And how exactly do you suggest I do that?”

Bruce hums thoughtfully. “Yeah… that’s the part I’m still working on…”

X

“I AM NOT GOING TO THE DENTIST!”

“Which way are we going with him again?” Steve asks. The super soldier is holding onto Peter’s left arm while Tony—fully encased in his armor—holds onto the right. The two are currently escorting the struggling teenager down the hallway, Clint and Sam flanking them as back up.

“Medbay,” Tony replies wearily. “I’ve got an oral surgeon coming in from SHIELD. Should be here in thirty minutes or so.”

Peter swings his legs, kicking wildly. “HE’S NOT PULLING MY FUCKING TEETH!”

Steve tuts. “Peter,” he begins. “There’s no call for that. We’re all just trying to help you here, and that’s why—”

Before anyone can react, Peter whips his head to the side and bites Captain Fucking Righteous around the wrist. With a cry of surprise, the soldier plummets to the ground in a tangle of twitching limbs.

“Move in, move in!” Sam shouts as he and Clint instantly converge on Peter, who thrashes sideways and clamps his teeth down on Clint’s bare bicep.

“Shit,” Clint manages to mutter as he collapses down beside Steve.

“I told you he was biting, Legolas!” Tony snaps. “Why the fuck did you wear a sleeveless shirt?!”

Having landed face down, Clint’s reply is muffled. ‘’Cus ‘s m’ thing…” he mumbles into the ground.

“Peter, c’mon,” Sam pleads, trying to manhandle the snapping kid away from the two men on the ground while Tony struggles to get a grip on Peter’s thrashing feet. “Let’s just calm down and have a chat about this…”

“I DON’T WANT TO CHAT!” Peter shouts. “LET ME GO!”

In one violent twist, the enraged teen sinks his teeth into the side of Sam’s neck.

“Mother fuc—” Sam yelps before dropping to the ground, causing Tony to lose his grip on Peter’s leg. The kid instantly takes advantage of this by leaping onto the wall, sticking, and scurrying up to the ceiling to camp out in the corner, hissing threateningly at his mentor.

“Oh, you are so grounded, kid!” Tony hollers.

X

“You know, this is actually kinda nice,” Steve remarks from the ground.

“I know, right?” Sam agrees. He’s lying face up on the floor about five feet away from the soldier. “You’d think paralysis would be unnerving but it’s actually weirdly relaxing.”

Clint hums thoughtfully. “Like floating,” he agrees. Tony had taken pity on the archer and flipped him to his back just before racing down the hall after the hissing spider child.

They lay there for a few more minutes, the sounds of firing repulsors, thwipping webs, and muffled crashing issuing from several rooms away.

“You know what’s really bugging me though?” Clint asks.

“What?” Steve questions.

“The fourteenth ceiling tile from the left is crooked.”

“I noticed that too!” Sam exclaims.

There’s another loud crash followed by Tony’s scream of “DO NOT BITE THE DENTIST!”

The three men lie in silence for another moment.

“... Also my nose itches,” Clint complains.

X

“Where’s the kid at now, FRI?” Tony asks wearily. He’s lying on the ground in the common area kitchen, internally kicking himself for lowering his faceplate to try to talk Peter down. Who’d have thought the kid would go for the nose?

“Peter has locked himself in your lab,” the AI reports. “Agent Romanoff is currently crawling through the air vents with a tranquilizer dart gun in an attempt to get a clear shot at Peter.”

“Wonderful,” Tony mutters sarcastically. “Keep me posted.”

From under the table, he hears the paralyzed SHIELD dentist groan something about his back and how he should have retired last year because he’s definitely getting too old for this shit. Happy’s still grumbling curses from his position on the floor just in front of the dishwasher.

A moment later the AI reports, “Agent Romanoff has just dropped into the lab and fired at the target. Peter is temporarily incapacitated.”

Tony breathes out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god.”

“Unfortunately,” FRIDAY goes on, “Peter has managed to bite her ankle in the process. She is now incapacitated as well.”

Tony lets out a groan. “I am definitely returning this kid’s birthday presents now...”

X

When Peter finally wakes from his drug-induced sleep several hours later, he finds himself reclined in a chair in Tony’s lab. He sits up with a frown and spits out two wads of bloody cotton gauze into his open palm.

Pepper is standing on the other end of the room, pliers in one hand and a small glass jar containing two sharp teeth in the other. “Welcome back,” she greets.

“Miss ‘otts?” he mumbles. “Wha’ ‘appened?”

Pepper huffs out a quick laugh. “Nothing we couldn’t handle,” she assures. “Happy birthday, Peter.”

Fic Masterlist

For more crack-ish irondad/Avengers shenanigans, try New Year’s Regrets or Avengers Vandal

#spiderman fic #irondad #Irondad and Spiderson #peter parker whump #avengers whump #tumblr prompt #crackfic #i think i've snapped #help me

[unadulteratedfandomtrash]

Kim Seokjin x Reader ~ The Big Secret  [Part 2]

[My BTS Masterlist]

A/N: Please note that this story is not trying to insinuate that any of the members would/do act like they do in my writing; this is all fictional and coming from my imagination. Also, this story does not strictly follow the timeline or realistic details.

I apologize for any plot holes; I’m pretty sure there are quite a few, but I’ve been very busy with personal issues to write, so I wrote this all in one sitting! I’ll try to comb through it all later to fix any issues. Feel free to let me know if you spot any contradicting details or grammar/spelling issues.

Word Count: 3505

The door behind Jin opens and within that very second, a young woman leaps onto the man in question, all four limbs wrapping around the man in question. Six pairs of eyes pop out of their respective heads, blinking rapidly as if the action will aid them in understanding the events currently taking place.

“Oh! You brought your friends with you,” the young woman remarks, pulling back her face, which was nuzzled into Jin’s shoulder. She releases her grip and straightens out her clothes before waving in all the men standing at her doorstep. “Please, come in. I apologize for the mess, but my brother was in a hurry this morning and left all his belongings scattered about; my own schedule has been hectic, so there hasn’t been any time to clean up after him.”

Now, as the six Bangtan boys stand in the apartment with wide eyes, their jaws dropping in further emphasis of their shock. The living room has heaps of clothes and shoes from designer brands draped all over the furniture, recording and producing equipment pushed up against the furthest wall, piles of expensive jewelry scattered on the coffee table, and several boxes filled with a diverse selection of cosmetics pushed beneath said coffee table.

Taehyung is the first to move while the others remain fixated on the priceless items in the room. He wanders carefully past the jewelry-covered table and stops to admire the numerous glass frames hung up on the wall. The very first design catches his attention; a metallic-silver background— most of its surface is covered by five signatures— accentuates a shiny blue logo that the young idol is very familiar with.

“OH MY GOSH, IS THAT A SIGNED ALIVE ALBUM?! WAIT! THERE’S ONE FOR EVERY ALBUM BIGBANG HAS RELEASED, AND THEY’RE ALL SIGNED!!”

This shout of excitement has everyone’s head snapping to look over at Taehyung, who is nearly crying tears of joy as his eyes rake over all the signed album covers hung up on the walls. Jungkook and Jimin run up to join their friend in admiring the displayed collection.

By now, Jin has disappeared into the kitchen and started to brew tea for all the members and his mysterious female friend. When the broad-shouldered idol returns, he and the young woman beside him are met with expectant glares from the rest of Bangtan’s hyung line— mainly Yoongi.

“Who the h-”

“What I think Yoongi-Hyung is trying to ask,” interrupts Namjoon, who has the group’s image in mind; he worries over the possibility of the woman before him recalling Yoongi’s brash words in the near future to fuel the beginnings of a scandalous article, “is: ‘Who are you?’” A timid, dimpled smile stretches across the leader’s lips as he waits patiently for a response. He nearly breaks into a nervous sweat when his hyung and the woman look at each other, a silent conversation taking place between the two.

“I’m Seokjin’s girlfriend and childhood bestie, Kwon (Y/n). It’s very nice to finally meet you all!”

Namjoon nearly faints. 

The expensive paraphernalia lying around in the room and the albums on the wall suddenly makes sense. This apartment does not belong to just anybody. This apartment must belong to Kwon (Y/n), as in Kwon Jiyong’s sister.

Of course, Namjoon cannot prove such a presumptuous statement without actually asking (Y/n) herself, but he has a strong suspicion that his assumption is true. Sure, the surname “Kwon” is fairly common, but there have been articles in the past hinting that G-Dragon, one of the biggest stars in the Kpop and fashion industries, has two sisters; the details were extremely vague.

He feels awkward wanting to confirm her relation to the famous Kwon Jiyong. There is no indication the other members are connecting the dots, but Namjoon wants answers. He walked all the way out to this building in the cold clad in only pajamas and a fuzzy Ryan robe, gave away his ID to a young security guard he just met, and experienced second-hand embarrassment thanks to his fellow group members; Hoseok will be met with a lot of trouble if the trip proves to be pointless.

“So…um…Ms. Kwon, are you-”

The jingling of keys, followed by the unnerving creaking of the front door swinging open, interrupts the rapper mid-question.

“Ah, Jiyong-Hyung, you’re back,” Jin greets, rushing over to the door to assist the man in question with the many bags in his hands.

This time, nearly all of the Bangtan boys faint.

“Of course. What kind of brother would I be if I worked all day during my little sister’s birthday?”

“A horrible one,” (Y/n) pipes up. She sets down her mug of tea before running over to Jiyong to pull him into a tight embrace. “Thank you, Ji-Ji-Oppa~”

“Yah, stop calling me that! I’m not that stupid cartoon cat.”

“First of all, no! Secondly, he is not stupid. Jiji is very caring and cute. And thirdly, it’s not a cartoon!”

Sensing the awkward stares, the two siblings turn to face their audience of six stunned men. Jiyong is the first to step up and greet them, commenting on their music after introducing himself. Each BTS member stumbles over their words, finding it extremely difficult to speak to the man who is a member of their favorite group— their idol.

After shaking hands with BIGBANG’s leader, Taehyung grasps his wrist while staring at his hand, mouth gaping in shock. He mumbles something about not washing or using that hand ever again, but nobody pays any mind to his reaction. 

“Wait a second… If you’re here to celebrate her birthday,” Hoseok comments, brows furrowed in confusion as he points an accusing finger at Jin, “then why did you bring a copy of our routine with you?”

“I was going to go over the choreography with Seokjinnie-Oppa a few times before dinner. He’s already got most of it down, so I’m mainly observing and pointing out any possible adjustments he needs to make. Since I wasn’t expecting my brother to be home so early, I haven’t gotten dinner started.”

“For the last time, I want to cook for you!” Though Jin sounds beyond irritated, his eyes show nothing but pure admiration for the woman before him. His friends are very familiar with Jin’s caring actions and are not surprised that this behavior is more prevalent when the man is around his girlfriend. “You should just relax for your birthday. I want to take care of you. You’re already helping me with the dance moves.”

“How about you both focus on the routine and let observe,” Jiyong suggests with a smirk. “I rarely get to see her dance anymore, so it’d be nice to watch and see if lil’ sis is as good as she claims to be these days.”

Bottom lip pursing into a pout, (Y/n) snaps back with a witty remark. The two bicker for quite some time until Jin ushers them both down the hall into a spare bedroom that had been refurbished into a dance studio; the rest of BTS follow their hyung, curious to witness Jin’s secret girlfriend’s dancing skills while also spending more time in the same room as G-Dragon himself.

Once (Y/n) refreshes her memory and cues the soundtrack, her expression changes drastically. In place of her usual bubbly personality, a stoicism that very few people can pull off, while maintaining a natural swagger, replaces her wide smile and bright, wide eyes. Her limbs move freely in the air, gliding in sync with the music without missing a beat, Jin watching and mimicking her movements at her side all the while. 

The dance line watches silently, impressed with what is taking place before their very eyes; Hoseok now has a very good reason as to why his friend has suddenly been improving during their practice sessions.

Jungkook has his gaze trained on (Y/n) when a sudden thought pops into his mind. His head slowly turns until he spots Yoongi leaning against the wall; the eldest rapper’s demeanor is practically identical to the persona (Y/n) is currently maintaining. A mischievous smirk stretches across his lips, but the maknae chooses to remain silent, for now.

Once the routine is over, Jiyong is the first to applaud the couple, giving out exaggerated compliments to which his sister responds by slapping him. She taunts Jiyong, daring him to provide a better performance, but he argues back with an obvious fact: he is unfamiliar with the choreography, unlike her.

“Fine,” (Y/n) states with a smirk, “BIGBANG it is then.”

“What?”

“You said it yourself, Ji-Ji. You don’t know the routine. It would be unfair of me to challenge you with that song, so we’ll dance to one of your group’s songs instead. Might I suggest ‘Bang Bang Bang?’”

“But that requires a total of five people.” The idol fights back a smirk, desperate to hide the embarrassing fact that he has long since forgotten majority of the choreography for the song in question. He only remembers the basic moves, since the group never really stuck to the dance routine when performing on-stage; the energy in the building always left them running around across the stage and interacting with the fans. “I am just one person, (Y/n). I am physically unable to perform Youngbae, Seunghyun-hyung, Sengri, and Daesung’s parts at the same time.”

“You worry too much, Oppa~”

The smile on (Y/n)’s face leaves a dreading feeling within the pit of Jiyong’s stomach. Ever since they were young children, her lips would curl up into the same mischievous smile whenever her brain starts scheming. Some things never change… 

“From what Seokjin has told me, the boys are huge fans of your music,” the young woman informs her sibling while gesturing to the idols in question. “I’m pretty sure that at least their dance line knows the choreography for all your songs.”

Upon hearing her statement, the dance line blushes and directs their gaze to the laminated floors, but a pair of colorful slippers enter their line of vision, prompting them to look back up to find (Y/n) standing before them. She gently grabs Jimin and Jungkook’s hands, pleading for them to convince the others to agree to participate in her challenge against Jiyong; Hoseok readily agrees without hesitation, but the two shyer dancers need more convincing before dancing in front of their sunbaenim and possibly humiliating themselves. 

“I can dance instead of Jungkook,” Taehyung offers, his boxy smile stretching across his face. He continues to suggest taking Jungkoook’s place, since the vocalist is also very familiar with BIGBANG’s dance routines, but his main goal is to push the maknae into overcoming his nervousness and agreeing. And if Jungkook agrees to dance, Jimin will follow suit. “I was dancing to ‘Bang Bang Bang’ just last week, so it’s still very fresh in my memory. Jungkook only-”

“I’ll do it!” Jungkook’s sudden outburst startles Taehyung, but the 95-liner is quick to recompose. He shrugs his shoulders and backs down from the urge to whine about not being able to dance with G-Dragon, since a small part of him was hoping Jungkook would refuse. Either way, he is proud of Jungkook for stepping out of his comfort zone.

“Yes!! It’s settled then! Seokjinnie-Oppa, could you pull up the song for use please? Thank you~” 

With their positions assigned and music blaring through the speakers, they begin to dance. Jimin quickly snatches up Taeyang’s position, leaving Jungkook to begrudgingly take T.O.P.’s position as Hoseok politely insists for (Y/n) to choose which member’s she would like to dance in place of; (Y/n) ends up choosing Daesung’s part.

From the sidelines on the far end of the room, Namjoon and the rest of his group members cheer on their peers, who execute the dance routine perfectly without a single mishap.

“Yeeeaaah,” Taehyung screams excitedly while jumping around. His deep voice rivals the loud music as he shouts along to the lyrics. “Bang, bang, bang, let the bass drum roll!!”

Once the song comes to an end, cheering and clapping echo throughout the room. The three members who took part in dancing alongside the siblings turn to bow, thanking them for the opportunity.

“No, no! There’s no need for that! I was the one who invited you to dance. If anything, I should be thanking you for agreeing!” 

“You’re so talented, Noona,” the dance line remarks with bright smiles on their faces. 

“Ahh, no, no,” she shakes her head in denial, shyly smiling as blood rushes up to her cheeks. “I’m not that good. I’m mostly self-taught.”

“What are you going on about?” Interrupting her rebuttal, Jiyong throws his arms over his sister’s shoulders, effectively restraining her in a tight embrace. He shoots her a warning look before addressing his guests with a proud smirk. “Don’t listen to this idiot. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. For your information, (Y/n) is one of YG Entertainment’s top secret choreographers. You boys have already seen several routines she’s choreographed without knowing it; ‘Bang Bang Bang’ and ‘Fantastic Baby’ are two of her co-creations.” 

If it were physically possible for the human eye to suddenly transform into hearts, such would be happening right this minute. The Bangtan boys are starstruck at the information Jiyong has just revealed to them.

Questions practically fly out of their mouths as the seven boys direct their curiosity at the Kwon siblings. Several dance-related inquiries are directed at (Y/n), who gladly answers each question with a smile, while the rappers focus on learning music production tips from Jiyong. However, while his friends are distracted, Hoseok slips over to the corner of the room where his hyung is seated by a laptop and set of speakers.

“Hey, hyung,” Hoseok greets quietly, his feet shuffling around anxiously. When Jin looks up at his fellow group member, he finds that the dancer’s eyes are looking at anything but his own. “I’m sorry for being nosy and dragging everyone out to see what you were up to. It was none of our business, and following you out here was really rude.”

A long silence follows Hoseok’s apology, scaring the dancer. He was worried about Jin’s reaction while waking over to him, but now that he has expressed his regrets, a weight has been lifted off his chest.

“I would be lying if I were to say that I’m not disappointed in you,” Jin admits with a sigh, lifting his head to meet Hoseok’s gaze before turning to watch (Y/n) and Jiyong interact with the rest of BTS; the smiles on all their faces prompt a small smile to tug at his own lips, “but I’m glad you came to apologize. You can apologize to Jiyong-Hyung and (Y/n) later, but right now, you can help me with dinner as part of your punishment.”

“Taa-daaa~”

Jubilant cheers erupt in the dining room as Jin directs his blindfolded girlfriend into her seat at the head of the table. Once the fabric slips away from her face, the crowd of men in the apartment burst into song, wishing the young woman a happy birthday. 

“Saeng-il chukahamnida! Saeng-il chukahamnida! Saranghaneun-”

Loud knocking interrupts the cheerful song, confusing nearly everybody in the room, but Jiyong dismisses the odd expressions as he stands to get the door. The individuals at the door, once again, nearly causes the Bangtan boys to faint. The rest of BIGBANG enters the apartment, stopping to hug (Y/n) as she darts over to the door to greet her friends.

“What are you guys doing here?! I thought you were all busy?”

“Jiyong-Hyung texted us an hour ago to invite us to your little party since we managed to finish early,” Daesung explains, “He also asked us to bring your cake. He was going to get it himself, but since we were closer, we picked it up on the way over.”

Noticing his stunned dongsaengs doing nothing but staring with their mouths open, Jin steps forward to welcome the new guests. His casualness only shocks the boys more.

“Oh yeah,” (Y/n) exclaims happily, dragging the eldest rapper by the sleeve into the dining room, the young woman starts to introduce him to the younger idols. “Seunghyun-Oppa, these are Seokjin’s friends. They’re from the group Bangtan Sonyeondan!”

“You could’ve at least waited for us,” Youngbae playfully teases, sauntering into the room soon after. “We all want to meet them.”

A/N: Sorry for the abrupt skip. I wasn't sure how to end this segment, and after staring at my laptop screen for several weeks, I just decided to end it here and continue with a time skip.

Without realizing how much time has passed since the beginning of the celebration, the idols are taken aback when they gaze drunkenly at the clock hanging on the wall. Soon, the room is filled with commotion as all the artists scramble to gather their belongings in preparation to return back to their respective residences. 

“Where do you guys think you’re going?” With her hands on her hips, (Y/n) shakes her head disapprovingly at the bumbling mess of limbs before her. She waltzes over to the men and begins to pluck away their overcoats, returning the garments to the coat rack by the door. “None of you are driving or taking a taxi back tonight. Some of you are barely standing straight, and yes, I’m talking about you, Seunghyun. Now, sit down while I sort out everything.”

“I can take some of them home,” Seokjin offers. “I haven’t had any alcohol, and since I drove the SUV over, I can transport more people than if I were to take my other car.”

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you…”

“Well, I offered,” he counters with a smirk, “so I don’t see where the issue is. I can make one trip to drop off everyone in BIGBANG, then come back for Bangtan.”

Sighing in defeat, (Y/n) accepts her boyfriend’s proposition. She returns to the coat rack and slowly assists her brother’s friends with their outerwear as Jin escorts them one-by-one into the awaiting vehicle in the parking structure. 

“Thank you for the party, Jiyong-Oppa. Good night!”

“I love youuuuu~”

“Yes, yes, I love you too.”

Once all of BIGBANG has been transferred from her apartment to Jin’s car, (Y/n) jogs over to her office in search of a sticky note to jot down each member’s respective address. Illuminated by the moonlight pouring into the room through the open windows, the young woman decides to forgo turning on the lights during her hunt for the pad of paper.

Jin returns from the parking garage with all of BIGBANG buckled in and ready to return home only to find the living room empty as he steps back into the parking lot. A faint shuffling noise catches the man’s attention, leaving him to follow his ear while reluctantly entering deeper into the apartment. Despite having been dating (Y/n) for quite some time now, Jin remains hesitant when it comes to exploring his girlfriend’s apartment; he does not feel comfortable invading her privacy and feels as if he is overstepping unspoken boundaries by doing so.

“Where is it? I was using it just the other day…”

Frustrated whispers draw Jin’s attention to a room on his right, so he peeks his head through the threshold to watch as (Y/n) shove around her paperwork haphazardly. A mischievous plan pops into his head and, despite his better judgement, Jin quietly slips into the office to sneak up on his beloved. The darkness shrouds his presence perfectly, leaving the man to stealthily creep across the room without making a single sound.

“I could’ve sworn that I left it next to the laptop… Maybe I moved it back to the dra- Ahh!!”

Deft fingers dart out and make use of (Y/n)’s unawareness, tickling her sides without wavering as the young woman desperately squirms around. Several stacks of paper fall to the ground, followed by the loud thud of (Y/n) crashing into her office chair, but Jin persists with his attack.

“Seokjin, stop,” (Y/n) manages to gasp out between laughs. “It’s getting late and you still need to take everyone home.”

“Fine, but only because you’re right. I’ll continue this one day.” Jin backs away and allows the young woman to continue her search as he offers to turn on the lights. “You shouldn’t be looking around in the dark. You might get hurt on accident.”

Even though she insists on finding her sticky notes without any help, Jin flips on the light switch and immediately spots the item in question before (Y/n). He grabs the pad of paper with a smug smile, promptly sauntering over to his girlfriend in order to wave it before her eyes.

“See, I told,” he teases.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t be mean. After all, I was the one who managed to help you out.”

Tearing off the first sheet with a pout, (Y/n) thrusts the list into Jin’s hands and proceeds to push the man out of her office; her blushing cheeks become more apparent, thanks to a certain idol’s antics.

“Just go take them home already!”

To Be Continued...  

(Only one more part left!)

#bangtan sonyeondan #bangtanboys #bangtan boys #bangtan #BTS #Kim Seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #Seokjin #Jin #BTS Jin #Kim Namjoon #Namjoon #rm #BTS RM #Min Yoongi #Yoongi #suga #BTS suga #jung hoseok #hoseok #jhope #bts jhope #J-hope #park jimin #jimin #BTS jimin #kim taehyung #taehyung #tae #v

[midnightprelude]

Fictober: Party Games

Prompt number: 15, that’s what I’m talking about

Fandom: Dragon Age

Rating: Mature

Warnings/Tags: Yep, that’ll be fluff again. And food fights

Pairings: Dorian/Anders, my lovely mage bois

This whole thing is the sole responsibility of @johaeryslavellan and @thesaltyhealer. Thank you, you beautiful people. <3

“Must I come with you, love? I love dressing up as much as the next man, but… to a child’s birthday party? It seems rather strange. And if we’re together…” Anders shook his head. “I would really rather prefer to stay home, drink some wine, run a bath, eat some grapes…”

Dorian shrugged. “If my attendance is required, then so is yours, by my own decree. Besides, you’d be better than me at this anyway. You’re excellent with children.”

Anders arched a brow at that comment. “What exactly are you saying about me…?”

He laughed. “You’re a child.” He put his hands up in surrender at Anders’s playful glare. “At heart, at heart. Not in truth.”

“You’re the irritating one, don’t you know?” Anders rolled his eyes. “Not me. I’m nothing but perfectly pleasant.” He huffed. “A child… really?”

“It’s that youthful look of wonder and boyish grin.” Dorian pulled him close, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Take it as a compliment! You’ll have strapping young people complimenting you on your appearance until well into your seventies, I’m convinced.”

Anders sighed, kissing Dorian on the nose. “You should be glad I like you, or I’d set those fancy robes of yours ablaze.”

Dorian looked at him in mock horror. “You would never! These are handwoven Antivan silk. I had to pay Josephine a fortune to get them!”

Fire erupted from Anders’s palm and the man winked. “Don’t try my patience, Magister.”

The audacity!

Anders only ever called him that when he was in trouble or when he wanted to sleep with him. Dorian couldn’t tell which was the case in this instance. He decided it was probably the former.

“Fine, I’m sorry. But please come with me. I’m sure we can find a way to make it fun.”

Anders grinned. “See, you just needed to ask nicely and I would have said yes!”

Dorian looked at him suspiciously. “I did ask nicely the first time and you rejected me.”

“Well, if you’ll recall, I was merely questioning whether I needed to go. You’ve made it clear that I do, to keep you out of trouble at the very least. I never said I wouldn’t go. I just said there were better things for me to do here, in your lovely manse.”

Dorian kissed him again, lips full of mischief. “I can think of some better things to do, amatus. We need not start getting ready for another hour or so...”

Anders seemed convinced, his lips opening slightly against Dorian’s. He wrapped his arms around Dorian’s shoulders, one hand behind his head, running his fingers lazily through his close-cropped hair.

“Fine,” Anders said. “You got me. An hour though… That’s plenty of time.”

Dorian raised his eyebrows, knowing the answer before he asked the question. “For what, amatus?”

“To find ourselves well and truly debauched.”

The words sent a wave of heat through his body, from his lips to his toes.

Anders may look like he’s a Chantry choirboy, but he’s got the most creative amorous repertoire of anyone I’ve ever met.

It was turning into quite a strange day.

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

Anders’s reaction to the party was predictable; he always made the same face when discovering a new aristocratic normalcy. The “party” if it could be called that, was at another magister’s palace, held in a sprawling labyrinth of gardens. There was a small lake towards the center and several miniature boats had been enchanted to allow the children to race them across the waters. He counted at least seven different exotic animals being led around the square, and a flock of peacocks was squawking at passers-by and trying to steal pieces of cake.

Anders would always get a dazed look about him, like he had stumbled into some sort of mystical land that he couldn’t quite comprehend and definitely didn’t trust as real. His eyes would go as wide as saucers and he would get an even more ridiculous than usual grin plastered across his face. All of his usual nervous energy would be drained for a few heartbeats before turning into a jittering excitement. It was infectious. There was a reason Dorian wanted him along.

“You didn’t say…” Anders was still in shock. “This is a child’s birthday? When I was a child, I was lucky to get another helping of bread. And after Kinloch… I forgot the day altogether.”

Dorian wrapped an arm around him from the side, drawing Anders close and kissing his head, gently. He almost felt bad bringing him to things like this; if Anders didn’t seem to clearly love them he would have stopped long ago. The gulf between their upbringings were so wide--Dorian had had similar parties every year.

The thing about a party for a magister’s children though, was that it was never about the child. The parents didn’t care a fig about the child’s preferences. More than once, Dorian had requested that all he wanted for his birthday was a quiet afternoon and his father to pick up a few restricted books from the Senatorial library. His requests were, of course, ignored. His parents threw a ridiculous celebration like the one they currently attended, with people Dorian didn’t like, with activities Dorian didn’t prefer, and with food Dorian thought tasted oversweet and cloying.

He took Anders’s hand. “Come on, let’s try and find the guest of honor and pay our respects.”

Anders laughed. “Pay our respects? You make it sound like a funeral! This is a carnival.”

“Most likely not.” He sighed. “Let’s go then.”

Weaving through the crowds, they eventually found the high table. A sullen looking pre-teen boy sat there, a fork slowly picking at a pile of cake. Dorian had met the young man before; he was turning twelve or thirteen, probably not wanting to be around all of these people. He could relate.

He sidled across to him, Anders in tow. “Hello there.”

The boy could hardly suppress a groan.

Dorian raised an eyebrow, his lips forming a wry smile. “Dreadful affair, isn’t it? All these people cooing over you like this? What’s your name? Mine’s Dorian. And this beautiful fool here is Anders.”

The kid looked at him suspiciously. “What are you playing at? Did my mother send you to see if I’m having a good time?” He waved a finger in the air. “Oh, look at me, what a wonderful way to spend a day: out in the sun and surrounded by idiots. You can report back to her that everything is positively immaculate and I’m having the time of my life.” His voice dripped with sarcasm only possible by teenagers.

Dorian grinned fully this time, turning to Anders, “You know what, I rather like this little ass. He sees the truth of things.”

He turned to the kid conspiratorially. “If you give me your name, we can play a game. It’ll be much more fun than anything these poor sods will have cooked up for your entertainment. What do you say?”

The boy eyed him behind his black fringe. “Vero… I don’t trust you, but anything is more interesting than sitting up here alone like a prized goose.”

“Well then, Vero. I have a proposition. We play a little game and the winner gets this bottle of Rowan’s Rose I intended to give you as a gift.” He reached into his robes and produced a bottle of wine.

The boy grabbed for it, but Dorian was too quick. “Now, now then. That’s not very sporting. We have a game. We play for our alcohol, like men. And you don’t tell your parents. Understood?” Dorian’s look was deathly serious.

The boy nodded, extending his hand. “On my honor. What are the terms?”

Dorian laughed. “Simple. We pelt these other fools with food.”

The boy looked confused.

“There’s  point system, you see. Hit a servant, you lose five points. They don’t deserve that treatment. Hit an Altus, that’s five. A Magister, that’s the usual five plus an extra ten. I don’t count, of course. Hit the Archon… That’s one hundred. If your target manages to eat the food out of the air, you earn two hundred and fifty.” He held up a finger, silencing the boy. “But, if they discover their assailant, then you lose one hundred points.”

Anders blanched. “No, you can’t encourage him to…” He paused, his eyes getting a faraway look. “Actually, Justice quite approves of this idea. He’s not usually one for frivolities, but he’ll make an exception this once.”

Anders picked up a bunch of grapes, separating them from their vine one by one. “You’re ridiculous, you know.”

Dorian laughed. “I know.” He pulled Anders close and whispered in his ear. “But if this isn’t the best birthday that kid ever has, I’ll eat my own robe.”

Anders grinned. “I thought you said it was fine Antivan silk?”

“I’ll make an exception to make a point.”

Anders picked up a bit of forgotten cake from Vero’s plate, eyed it, and then smashed it into Dorian’s face. “Is that fifteen for me, then?” he said playfully.

Dorian rolled his eyes, licking the frosting off his cheeks as best he could. “I said I didn’t count!” He felt an apple hitting him from behind and turned to see Vero looking like he had just won their contest. “That hurt. You both lose one hundred points.”

Anders pulled him close, running his finger through the frosting still coating Dorian’s face. “It was worth it, just for this, love.” Anders proceeded to kiss him on his cheek, using his tongue to remove the residual cake from Dorian’s face.

While he was distracted, Dorian grabbed a pie tin from the table and upended it on Anders’s head. “Looks like we’re all even now. I lose one hundred as well.”

Cherries were running down his cheeks, bits of crust stuck against his scalp. His hair was stained red from the juice. His robes were utterly ruined.

Anders just laughed.

#fictober19 #midnight writes #dragon age fanfiction #dorian pavus #anders #dorian is a rapscallion #and a troublemaker #food fights

[wonderlustlucas]

saccharine - lee donghyuck

⇢ prompt “This is the only special part so far.” ⇢ pairing haechan x female reader ⇢ word count 2.1k ⇢ genre fluff ⇢ warnings none ⇢ summary One thing on top of another leads to one Hell of an emotional week. Luckily, the birthday boy with the sun under his skin and a passion when it comes to cinnamon buns is there to save the day.—highschool!au ⇢ a/n idrk what this is,,,,it started as one thing and ended as another BUT ITS OK cuz im so happy with this, i uwu, v cute, its kind of dramatic??and depressing??at first?? but low key relatable so UHHHHH enjoy! happy 18th birthday lee donghyuck ❥

The balance on which your patience and sanity sit on is far too close to teetering off the edge; one minuscule blow and off you will tumble, falling down into a hole of desperation and depression that only breakdowns and napping and pints of ice-cream can fix.

It’s simply an amalgamation of factors that will lead to your potential breakdown, a multitude of unlucky combinations that, in accordance with the universe, lunge upon you all at once. And while life could be much, much worse, it’s the overwhelming panic and desolation that makes it so unbearable.

The first, the least stressful but nonetheless one that has you sitting in bed at night on the brink of tears, is the reality that after a whole four years, one thousand four hundred and sixty days, high school would be over. All the set routines, all the unforgettable memories—all of it, cut off with a signed piece of paper and a handshake.

The second: your ex-boyfriend has someone new. While the breakup was months ago, a lengthy amount of time that allowed for the hopelessness and betrayal to finally diminish until you were back on your feet again, enjoying the life of not being tied down and being able to hook up with anyone you damned please, it hurts. It’s an odd sting, a wrenching in your heart that he has found someone else and you haven’t, a dull ache no matter how hard you convince yourself that you don’t care.

The third element to your disastrous undoing, one that every student faces and dreads: exams. You’re smart, undeniably smart, and that’s what makes exams all the more stressful. The honest-to-goodness want and need to do well, combined with the consequences of procrastination make for a week full of rushed studying and ‘I’ll be fine’s, followed by a two hundred question test slapped in your face at seven in the morning that only partially makes sense.

And the icing on the cake: you are premenstrual. It’s the final blow that makes your closing week of school so atrocious, one that heightens the sadness of this is it for school, the grief of a long ago broken heart, and the monstrous stress of finals. A voice in the back of your head always bitching, bubbling over in your mind that absolutely everything and everyone has to get on your nerves, topped with the undeniable horniness constantly aching in your brain and abdomen along with the wavering self-doubt, euphoria, despair, and irritability.

And even after the last day of school, the final exam, the cheering as you exit the building you’ve been a prisoner in for the past four years, the realization that it’s over, you still are in the grip of a silent panic, an unstoppable snowball fight in the pit of your stomach.

It’s an awkward time of the day once you arrive home from school for the last time, too late to make last minute plans but too early to crash no matter how much your heart calls you to.

Instead, you make a hasty decision to head back out even after you have changed into sweats, opting for a happy middle ground rather than choosing one and ending up disappointed. Off to the bakery you go, driving into the quieter part of town in impassive quietness and staring up at the baby blue sky.

It’s comforting in a strange sort of way, the soporific shade bringing a sense of luxury and serenity like warm milk and honey. However, all good things must come to an end, you realize after you park, abruptly exiting the car and slamming the door closed before making your way up onto the sidewalk.

Like a ghost in a world full of paper dolls you enter the bakery huddled between the bank and antique shop, a place where air is more delicious than any flavor and mouth-watering displays cause more regret than any drunken party ever could.

The cinnamon buns just so happen to be like your Achilles tendon; at the sight of one you’d stop dead in your tracks, the damned things are your nemesis and elixir all in one and there’s simply no denying a decadent treat like this on such a forlorn day.

Upon entering the bakery, you let out a mesmerized sigh at the beckoning aroma of fresh baked cookies and cakes and pastries and you hardly feel a hint of embarrassment when your stomach growls instantaneously. The impending hollow sadness quickly vanishes and is replaced with the sudden sense of tranquility. Finally, you think, stepping up to stand behind a young girl finishing her order, things can only get better from here.

However, just as you’re drilling optimistic thoughts into the confines of your brain, a customer with a dash too much pep in his step bursts through the door from behind you and, astoundingly, cuts in front of your spot with not even an ‘Excuse me.’

You’re flabbergasted, to say the least, sparks in your brain, desperately trying to connect the dots and instead just causing a short circuit. And suddenly you are underwater—everything is slow and warbled and you’re left unable to speak as the culprit has the audacity to move up in line and place his order as if nothing had ever happened.

And with a force like water bursting forth from a dam, brick by brick the walls come tumbling down, tears spilling down your face, struggling to breathe, you turn with a trembling chin to look toward the window, clawing for some sort of comfort in the light outdoors. However, the bustling of customers around you cannot mask the hushed sobs that shake your body, and no matter how furiously you wipe the tears from your cheeks or suck in air to calm your lungs, nothing can hide the fact that you are standing in the middle of a bakery weeping.

“Shit, that was not supposed to happen.”

The gentlest of hands grasping your own pauses your public breakdown, and for a split second, you jerk away from the tender touch until, no matter how hard it is to do so, you glance up.

“Donghyuck,” you hiccup upon recognition, “what’re you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? I should be asking you that,” Donghyuck chortles, “I went to buy you a cinnamon bun and then you started sobbing.”

Oh.

“You didn’t—you never,” you groan, “why didn’t you say hi first instead of cutting in front of me like an idiot?” You grumble, retracting your hands to messily rub away the remaining wet streaks down your cheeks, grossly heaving in oxygen and blinking out a few more tears. “I thought it would be cute and spontaneous, and then you turned to shit,” the tanned boy retorts, turning momentarily to grab the bag coasted across the counter to him before, suddenly, intertwining his fingers with yours and dragging you to a free table.

“So, why’d you go all batshit back there?” Donghyuck asks, rosy heart-shaped lips tugging up into a soft smirk even as he sits you down in the booth and takes a seat across from you. It’s dangerous, you realize; the mocking lilt to his voice paired with kindness that is more than out of place, and, of course, his overall handsomeness. From golden skin, warmer than any sunset you’ve seen, disheveled auburn hair dipping into black eyes with irises shimmering with all the stars in the night sky, cherry red lips that allow one-too-many smartassed words slip by. Lee Donghyuck is truly an enigma.

"Why’d you buy me a cinnamon bun?” You retort finally, reaching for the bag and tearing it open, eager for the delight inside. Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “Answer my question first.”

Stubborn. “I’ve had a rough week, and that was just the cherry on top,” you tell him truthfully, “also, how’d you know I was here?”

“One question at a time, tiger.” Snotty. “I didn’t follow you, you’re not that special, although I did see you walk in here with the most miserable look I may have ever seen and thought, ‘Hey, now’s a good time to rekindle what I had with the girl I’ve been crushing on since she dropped me for some fuckface baseball player sophomore year.’“

You blink once and then again, pausing your attack on the first bite of dessert to look up at Donghyuck. Candid. Processing his words, you stare at him blankly, his lips pouted into a smirk once more, “I did not drop you.”

“Babe, you definitely did.” A flirt.

“You’re the one that told all your friends I was a bitch!”

“God, ___, it was a joke. Ever heard of one of those?” Rude. “Can you just shut up and let me eat my cinnamon bun?” You grumble, peeling off a chunk, cinnamon glaze sliding under your nail.

“Technically it’s mine, but fine,” he chuckles, grinning devilishly as you pop the bit into your mouth, a hypnotized sigh escapes your lips and suddenly the golden boy isn’t so wicked. “Fine, I was a baby back then, I’ll admit it. However, if you’re trying to get me to fall for you again, this whole mocking me when I’m emotionally unstable isn’t gonna do it for you.”

Donghyuck processes your words, squinting as you go on with your feast, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning into the wooden table, “Why was this a rough week?”

“Well, let’s see,” you sigh, counting your fingers, “high school is over and university is going to be stressful, fuckface baseball player has a new girlfriend, exams made me lose brain cells, and my period is coming soon so I want to die.”

“That doesn’t sound fun,” he comments, tearing a piece of the cinnamon bun off and you glare at him. “It’s not.”

“At least you have a cinnamon bun now,” beams Donghyuck, kicking your shins under the table and you groan. Childish. Licking your fingers clean you check your phone, glancing at the time and catching the date by chance. Then, “Isn’t today your birthday?”

“You remember?” He asks and your heart lurches at the innocent cloud that passes his features. You nod slowly, returning his smile, “Happy birthday, then.” Donghyuck‘s cheeks flush the faintest shade of coral and at the heat rising upon your own you turn away, clearing your throat and munching on another piece. Angelic.

“Anyway,” you cough, “how’s your birthday been so far? Any plans?”

Donghyuck shrugs, “None yet, just dinner with my family and I’ll probably hang with the boys tomorrow. This is the only special part so far.”

“Oh,” you quip, frantically searching for a spot to look at and settling on a grey pigeon outside, pecking viciously at whatever is on the pavement, “that’s good.” Glancing back to the cinnamon bun, mouth watering at the gooey center, you force the temptation back, “You can have that.”

His eyes light up. “Really?” You nod, laughing, watching joyfully as he instantly snatches the last bit up and shoves it into his mouth. “Fuck, man, that was good, thank you,” Donghyuck rambles, wiping the frosting from his fingers and reaching for your hands.

“So,” he sighs, nestling his hands into your own and squeezing them, “in all seriousness, since we’re going to the same school and all, could we maybe... try the whole dating thing again?” Determined.

Donghyuck grimaces, a fault you never thought you would ever see cross his face, for doubt simply did not exist in his life and here it is, spread out in front of you and your response is the next move in this game of chess. “Hyuck,” you chuckle softly, gliding your thumb across his palm, “I’d be dumber than dumb if I let you get away. Of course I want to try it again.”

“Really?” He squeals, you nod and he clutches you fingers once more. “That’s a relief, I was starting to worry I royally fucked up.” Entertaining.

You laugh again, eyeing him as he slides from the booth and throws out the bag before returning before you. “You certainly did not fuck up, you just made me happy for like, the first time in a week.” You follow him out, walking by his side to your car and squinting past the blinding streaks from the sunset, mesmerized by the melanin of his skin that suddenly seems to glow in the sunlight, reaching for his arm and curling your hand around his bicep. Breathtaking.

“Well, this was good,” Donghyuck gleams, a lighthouse shining out across the sea, pausing in front of the car, “I’ll call you soon?” A gentleman. “Okay,” you sigh blissfully, “I’ll be waiting by the phone.”

He kisses you too quickly, a rushed brush of his lips and then it’s gone with the wind; you have to tug him back, pulling him flush against your form, whispering a “Happy birthday,” because God, your week just got so much better and he’s just too sweet.

#lee donghyuck #donghyuck #haechan #nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct dream #haechan scenarios #donghyuck scenarios #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct reactions #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fluff #haechan fluff #haechan nct #donghyuck nct #happy birthday haechan #happy birthday full sun

[jillychristmas]

how to why not

I am in love. I’m here to admit this for the first time, I guess to only myself because, while it shouldn’t ever be something someone is ashamed of, it’s something I am, in fact,  ashamed of. The first question is so obvious...what is there to be ashamed of? Well, in my perception this love is a one way street and at 27 years old, I thought we’d be past driving down it. But life is unpredictable and it’s not the first time or even like the fourth or fifth that I’ve been so sure something would or would not happen and the opposite came true. After this past year, I truly believe anything, and I mean ANYTHING, is possible. It’s provided an interesting perspective for me as normally I am tempted to take that in the negative. My brain jumps to worst case scenario and I sit and I wait for it. Maybe to some extent I have even manifested it into existence. It’s funny though, a few years ago, I worked with a man who added “#WHYNOT” on every single thing he posted on social media, and I mean every. single. post. To be honest, I thought it was some kind of inside thing- a joke or some kind of mantra, and one day, I decided I needed to know. When I asked he said, “There are things on this earth that only happen once ever, there are even more things that have impossible odds, maybe 1 in every 100, 1000, 1,000,000 right? But those things all still happen once, and I say why not that one time be me?” I don’t think I will forget that for as long as I live, but I digress.  That paragraph is a good example of how my brain avoids addressing the subject at hand, so back to my point. Back to sitting here and writing so that I can come to terms with where I am, and maybe provide my head with a wee bit of clarity and space. I met a boy a year ago, from would you believe it, TINDER. I may have written about the experience in a prior post, I can’t remember, but it was the best first date I had ever had, and when he asked for a second, I was overcome with joy. Three months of this like hooking up and hanging out and I brought up the dreaded question...where is this going? And to my surprise and a bit of sadness, he said nowhere. He wasn’t interested in a relationship, because the one’s you want really never are right? I keep these flashbulb memories of me and him, being absolutely perfect together, and sometimes I wonder if just maybe, he does too. I thought I was both cool and strong enough to handle the friends with benefits thing, but that ended as you could predict, quite poorly. In an argument, this boy showed his mean side, and for the first time in my life, I left someone literally on read and walked away. It should be of no surprise that two months later, he hit me up an apologized. We decided to try just being friends. The next few months are a bit of a blur, but the relationship was weird. We both clearly had walls up, there was an undeniable tension and when I attempted to address it, that mean side peeped it’s head. I can take myself out of any situation, and understand how it looks. If this was my friend I would say, this is not how a relationship or friendship or anything is supposed to be. You don’t need it, but what the outsider fails often to be able to do, is actually put themselves in the specific situation. But again, I put on my bad ass girl panties and walked away. You already know where this is headed right? 

Three months later, we talked again, but I immediately noticed a change. Everything felt lighter. We did our first one on one outing for his birthday, which I was dreading to the highest of keys, but I ended up having so much fun. I drove home that night and cried. Feelings flooded my body and there was nothing I could do. He consumed my thoughts, and I battled between was this worth fighting feelings for? Is the same pattern going to repeat itself? How am I going to handle enjoying my time with someone I can never have? That’s three of twenty million questions that bounced around my mind like Olympic ping pong. I decided I wanted him in my life, and that being friends was the best way to do it, and he said that he agreed. I once heard, “Fake it til you feel it,” and convinced myself if we stuck to the friend boundary, this could be something beautiful. We talked almost every day and started hanging out even more. I can sit on the couch and watch the entire season of The Undoing or go on our own bar crawl on a Tuesday night and enjoy every second of all of it. I’ve never said okay to doing so many things outside my comfort zone, but also never had more fun doing so. 

About a month ago is when things started to veer, and maybe you think I’m going to say in a negative direction, but I actually can’t decipher what emotions are attached. First, we made a long term plan, a professional sporting event that was months away. I was floored. That meant we had to make it copacetic for a period of time longer than ever before, but listen, I was here for it. Next, I asked to visit his home state “one day” and he invited me on his next return two weeks down the road. When that didn’t work with my schedule, he suggested Christmas. Again, floored. This is also when the, for lack of a better word,  touching started. I have told him since day one, his hugs are something special. As a society I really think we are slighting the hugs, and post pandemic, they’ve basically fallen victim to cancel culture. So hugs with us were normal, but hugs turned into cuddling on the couch and then to cuddling in bed and taking naps together and all these kind of cute things. When we discussed what this was going to be again, he had said no sex. I was bummed, but was he probably doing what was best? Yeah. I read something on Pinterest that same night that said something along the lines of “When someone sets a boundary they are not trying to end it, they are trying to save it.” Felt timely. But just as a boundary was put up, I let a wall down. I opened up to him about the battle of the brain that I started at 24; my war against anxiety. If you met me on the street, you would never know what I went through. I am self proclaimed hilarious, chill and a go with the flow type of person. My anxiety surrounds a very specific issue, but it comes in hot and heavy when it’s here. I can count on my fingers how many people know the depths of that journey and I thank the universe for them regularly. I think the hardest opponent you can go up against is your own brain. It’s a part of me I am learning to accept, I’ve healed tremendously, but every now and then I have a moment and this shit is a sneaky mother. I fear the stigma that comes with it, about not being understood, I’ve experienced that more than once, but I decided to tell him. As a side note, I’ve been significantly more open about it. What really helped me was reading a book called DARE, which was about not living with anxiety, but defeating it. Reading those pages I felt so seen and to understand that this was so much more common than I knew, I just felt related to. So I hope that maybe by being more open, I will be able to be my more authentic self and maybe even make someone else feel understood too. When I told him, I didn’t cry, but I came close. He just sat and listened and halfway through, he got up and came right next to me and put his arms around me. He didn’t say anything, he just held me. It made me get even closer to tears more, I felt accepted and secure. This obviously made me like him more and or realize this might be an incredible friend. But back to the boundaries... here we are now blurring those boundaries. I have a decent amount of male friends and I can’t say I’ve ever crossed the lines this much before. The last time we were together, hooking up was brought up. I just want to take a second to say as someone with an anxiety disorder, these conversations often terrify me, but this past one, I was a beast. I am so afraid of saying the wrong or pushing him away, that I often silence myself, but this last time, I was that girl. I was light hearted and funny and he said he changed his mind. Laying in a bed, with our lips like movie status close, I didn’t go through with it. I got up and we went to dinner. I know what you’re thinking, “Sis what the f is up?” and to tell you the truth I have no idea. I have polled A LOT of people about this situation, various ages, guys and gals, like you name it and I am curious on what the hell you think is going on. 

Without the back story, my coworkers, who are all dudes around my age, told me this is dating, this boy is into me, why am I calling us friends? No, I won’t tell them the backstory. I will say, they had some strong points and said we’ve done some things they would never do with a girl they didn’t like or weren’t really interested in. We’re not even talking about the cuddling, just some of the outings we’ve had. I told my one guy friend more details and he was most confused by the lack of sex. We’re doing everything a relationship is except that. Which I pointed out is a friend right? But he insisted this goes beyond. Also been the devil on my shoulder telling me to just go for it. To make my move and live a life of more oh wells than what ifs. I’ve always been that type of person, I’ve been rejected a lot in a variety of scenarios in my life, but I’ve never been left wondering. Then we have my best gals, the ride or die people that I tell every minuet detail too. They’ve told me to ditch him, but they’re also realistic. They’ve seen how happy he makes me, but also how sad I get because this is so close to being a perfect (I know nothing is perfect, but you know what I mean) relationship. They’ve told me I’m doing the impossible, trying to subside feelings for someone and still be friends. They’ve told me they want to shake him because these moves are unprecedented. I’ve taken all of these into consideration, and determined that I’m somewhere between professing my feelings and ghosting him. 

But I came here to write, because writing is for me. I can listen to all these opinions, I can try to guess what he’ll do next, but there’s only one thing that I can control and that is lil ole me. I am proud of myself for opening up to him, despite the fact that one day there is potential that it might hurt me. I guess that applies to any situation in life though, there is always some kind of risk. I am learning to control my reactions. Just because I think something, doesn’t make it true and it definitely doesn’t mean that I need to react to it. I am keeping all doors open for outside potential. I’m not silly enough to throw all my eggs in one basket for the billionth time. I am learning to let myself feel. I mean really feel. I’ve been in the suppressing game for a long time and I have to say that whole “get it out of your system idea,” there’s really something to it. I’ve let myself cry and feel anxious, but also I’ve let myself feel joy, happiness, butterflies, deep belly laughter, euphoric, warmth, security, and yeah, love. I don’t know what the future holds, I typically assume it’s pretty bleak when it comes to my “dating life,” so while these incredible moments are happening, I am going to whole heartedly be present. This has shown me that while I have come an incredibly long way, I still have some things to work on, as I’m sure we all do. I have my tougher days, but there’s something telling me that the best is yet to come for me. Why not right? 

[guessmonsta]

It's Tendou and his s/o's first Christmas that they're going to spend together at his parent's place and Tendou is super nervous because his whole family is just straight up fucking WILD and he's more afraid that his s/o won't like his family more than he's afraid that his family won't like his s/o, because who's he kidding, she's an absolute gem. Just a cute little scenario for the holidays :) I'm so glad you're back my patron saint

Hi my alias is Bee and after being gone for nearly half a year I’m back and swinging with a 5,000 word Tendou fic yes’m (Also there are a bunch of family head-canons in here for example- Tendou has two sisters and one of them is gay because why not right it’s 2017)

Also Merry Christmas Eve to all you nerds who celebrate it!

Satori stood at his bathroom vanity with his head in his hands. The sink had been running for a while now, unused, because he was far too lost in thought to even realize it was still running. His hair gel was open on the counter, and his toothbrush sat prepared right next to it. He had to get ready, he knew he did, but he was unable to do anything besides stare at himself in the mirror, his vision blurry and skewed from not blinking since he had spaced out.

He must’ve been standing there for a while, minutes, even. The background noise that the running water provided threw him further off loop, and it wasn’t until the bathroom door opened and slammed into his back did he realize that __ had been knocking. When the door knob collided with his spine, he yelped, his hands flying from his hair to the vanity in front of him. It took him a moment to process what had happened before he could compose himself. In the mirror he saw his girlfriend’s face, pale and terrified, but washing over with relief when he made eye contact with her through it and smiled sheepishly.

“Satori, I was knocking forever.” She sighed, stumbling into the bathroom and hugging him from behind. “You worry me sometimes, you idiot.”

“I know, I know.” He had somehow managed to push out a fictitious laugh, and stood up straight. Now that Satori could finally look at himself properly, he noticed that his eye bags were a lot darker than usual.

“That was a really fake laugh, hun. Are you sure you’re okay? If you’re tired or anything I have no problem just pulling up a map to your parents place and driving, if that’s what you’d like.” Hearing the mentioning of his parents place made Satori’s heart stop all over again. That’s what had started his panicking in the first place– The Holidays.

It had been established for months that this was going to be the first Christmas that Satori and __ were going to spend together. In years past they had either parted their ways to visit their respective families, or had just spent it together in the comforts of their own apartment. Although, this year, __ had insisted that they visit Satori’s family. He had met hers before, on countless occasions, actually, but she had never gotten an opportunity to meet his. It wasn’t that Satori had any problem with his family meeting __, she was incredible, he knew without a doubt that they would love her. It was quite the opposite, really. It was a miracle that she put up with him on a day to day basis, but there was no way that she could ever tolerate the likes of his family.

Satori placed his hands on  __’s and gently pushed them away. She shuffled up next to him and sighed, taking his face in her hands instead.

“You look worried.”

“I am worried.”

“Oh?” She smiled, kissing him gently on his lower lip. “Am I really that terrible? Is your family gonna hate me or something?”

“Yeah, absolutely filthy. I can picture their disgust as we speak.” He joked, rolling his eyes and kissing her back. She let out an amused huff.

“Really, Satori, tell me whats wrong. You know you can’t keep shit from me.”

“Unfortunately.” He released himself from her again and grabbed the gel off the counter. He figured if he was just going to stand around, he might as well get ready. There was no escaping this situation, now.

“__, if I’m being honest with you, my family’s a mess.” He sighed, running his gelled hands through his hair. “If we had a sitcom, it would be called, “Terminate The Tendous” ‘cause we need to be stopped.”

“Please.” She hummed, “I doubt you lot are that bad. You’ve met my family before, there’s no way you can get worse than that.”

“Please, you.” Satori finished gelling back his hair and ran his hands under the water, scooting past __ to dry them. “Compared to mine, they’re nothing.”

“Care to tell me what’s so bad about your family? Are they like, serial killer bad or, Aunt Mina has a pinterest addiction bad?” She asked, moving out of Satori’s way as he positioned himself in front of the mirror again.

“Both, but not really both at the same time?” Satori shrugged. “Ah, listen, I’ve dreaded the day that I’d have to tell you this, but I think it’s about time that I’ve told you about them.” He said, in the most pretentious storytelling voice he could muster. She laughed at this, smiling up at him through the mirror.

“Dude, finally. What have we been dating for, five years now? We have our own house plants together but I don’t even know your mom.”

“House plants don’t talk back.” He muttered, barley loud enough for her to hear.

Satori took his time brushing his teeth, __ sitting on the covered toilet seat waiting for him to finish. She looked adorable, he thought. She was wearing a dark green velvet dress that flattered her eyes, her hair in soft curls around her shoulders, bangs being held back with a black hair bow. She was the image of pureness that his family devoured.

“So, I have two sisters, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, the oldest follows me on Instagram, I think.”

“Gre-eat. That would be Hana. She’s five years older than us, and three years older than my other sister, so she’s pretty much always thought she was the absolute shit.” Tendou sighed, trying to talk and adjust his dark green tie, to compliment __’s dress, at the same time. “That, and she happens to be the tallest in the family.”

“Taller than you?” __ gaped, looking up at him from the toilet seat. “How? And why? Can a sister lend me some?” Tendou smiled at this, although it was bitter.

“Never tell her that, please. She’s 6’5, and if you’ve ever seen any of her pictures, she looks pretty normal, but that’s only ‘cause she’s standing next to her husband, who’s 6’11. By the time I was in first grade, she was in fifth, and we barely crossed paths unless she was outside for lunch, and I was at the playground, or something. She had reached 5’2 by then and since I was me, a disgusting little mushroom boy–”

“You were not a disgusting little mushroom boy.” __ interrupted.

“I was a disgusting little mushroom boy. Anyway, she would always scope the playground to see if kids were bullying me and would throw them into the wood chips if they were. You would think people would stop messing with me since I had fucking Goliath following me around, but nah, being protected by my older sister made me even more susceptible to bullying, I guess. But yeah, to this day she still thinks she’s my actual Lord and Savior, so expect for her to examine you until your ears bleed, I’m sorry.”

“She sounds awesome, hun. I think her and I are gonna get along just fine.” She laughed, and Satori grimaced.

“Ye-eah, I’m sure you will.”

“What about your other sister? Is she as bad too?” __ added, sarcastically.

“Worse.”

“Worse? Oh no, don’t tell me, she works at an animal shelter, right? Donates to the church? Helps starving children in third world countries?”

“Harhar, very funny.”

“Thanks!”

“My sister, Aya, is her name, was a wrestler in high school. She went to a different high school than me and Hana, at birth she had somehow dodged the Tendou family gene of creepy ass eyes and permanent scrawniness, so I think she kept her distance from us ‘cause she didn’t want to be known as related to us, y’know.”

“I doubt it, Satori. And could you stop being self deprecating?”

“Never. But, she was, and still is, this really pretty girl, y’know, always looks really well put together, but the moment she opens her mouth– it’s hard to tell the difference between her and some fifty year old guy at a bar on Friday night.”

“Quite the analogy.” __ added.

“I’m not joking. She’s horrible. You think I don’t have a filter?  She’s been kicked out of public places more times than I can count on my two hands. She was always a gem though. Despite being kind’ve an ass and pretty immature until her twenty first birthday, she knew how to beat people up, and got like, a million trophies for it, so my parents never really said anything about it.”

“Y’know, Satori, you’re making me think one of your sisters is gonna have me in a choke-hold while the other asks me for my social security number.” __ laughed, finally standing up and helping Satori fix his tie. He hadn’t even noticed that he completely unknotted the thing.

“I won’t be surprised. I’m so nervous, __, I’m so sorry. Is it too late to cancel and just go visit your parents instead?”

“Yes, its too late! We already promised that we’d spend the holidays with your parents, and spring break with mine. Besides, they live six hours away from here, we’re not prepared for that.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry-y.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry! I have a thick skin, you know! I’m not gonna die. Watch–”

Satori had zoned out from what __ had said next. He watched her as she fixed his tie, glancing up at him every so often and smiling wider. He felt his heart squeeze again. He hated to be overdramatic, he really did, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was throwing his beautiful, little beacon of light into a gladiator stadium, and his sisters were just the opening act.

“Satori, are you really that embarrassed of your family? If they’re anything like you, I’m sure they’re incredible.” __’s words snapped him out of his daze again. He shook his head, and kissed her forehead after she tightened his tie up.

“Honestly, I’m kinda being dramatic.” He shrugged, pushing __ out of the tight enclosure of the bathroom and proceeding to follow her out. “But they don’t know when to stop. I’m sure you’ll find Aya hysterical, her and her girlfriend both– but I know she’s gonna ask you all those weird-ass questions like-”

“Are you a virgin?”

“Exactly.”

“Please, I’ve been preparing myself for these questions since we first started dating.” __ scoffed, slipping on ballet flats over stocking clad feet at the doorstep. Satori sighed, leaning against the frame of the door. He watched her pick up the two carry-on bags, to which Satori hurriedly grabbed from her. She smiled up at him wordlessly for a moment, then shook her head.

“I’m gonna be fine, Satori. Oh! And I’m driving. I don’t want your nervous ass to crash before I ever get to meet your gem of a family.”

She threw a heavy pea-coat over her shoulders before shuffling out of the door, Satori close to follow. As she started the car up, he tossed the luggage into the trunk, then filing into the passenger seat. She already had the music going, one hand on the steering wheel with the other creeping towards his thigh. She winked at him, and for the first time today, he genuinely laughed. __ smiled, for that was her plan all along, and gave his thigh a squeeze.

“I can’t believe we’re going to meet your family and you’re the nervous one.”

“Okay, okay, I’m not as nervous anymore.” Satori interrupted, placing his hand over __’s. “Ju-ust slightly perturbed. How about that?”

“Better, I guess. You still have two hours to worry your little heart out.”

Tendou sighed, fluttering his eyes shut and leaning back on the car seat. A song he didn’t know the name of droned in the background, just loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough for him to focus on. To keep himself awake, he drew lazy circles into the palm of __’s hand, to which he heard her giggle about. He could feel his pulse in his neck, despite still being two blocks away from his own apartment. He had a feeling that this week was going to be a long one.

Satori promised himself that he would stay awake, but somehow he dozed off. __ said he was out cold twenty minutes after they left, which wasn’t odd, she said, many people crash due to stress. Satori had a hard time believing that, though. If anything, he expected himself to be puking out the window once they hit the highway. They were ten minutes away from his parents, now, and Satori was fixing his hair in the small overhead mirror of __’s car.

“Sorry I wasn’t awake to bother you.” He said, out of the blue. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw __ shake her head.

“It’s fine, it gave me time to lip-sync along to the Arctic Monkeys without being made fun of.”

Satori would’ve responded to her comment much faster, if it weren’t for the fact that __ was taking the exit straight towards the small town he grew up in. A nervous, agitated groan left him the moment she started down the road that lead towards his neighborhood.

“Does being here regurgitate bad childhood memories or something? Or do you really just hate your family?”

“Both.”

“You’re gonna have to take me to Shiratorizawa while we’re here, or at least drive me by the campus. That and like, Wakatoshi’s old house. Maybe even Tooru’s, too.”

“Oh, it’s that a little creepy, __ dearest?”

“No! I’m just saying, I’ve never been around here before, I wanna know how you and all our friends grew up, that’s all.”

“It’s literally nothing special, it’s farm, more farm, small convenience store, high school, farm, farm, bigger high school, convenience store. It’s like this for about ten miles.” __ laughed. She grew up further up the coast, and when they first met, she told him that she had “never seen a pig in person.” Satori made note to take her to see one of those while they were out here, too.

Ten minutes had passed quicker than Satori preferred. Before he knew it, they were pulling into his neighborhood, and with each turn __ took, the more and more anxious he got. He didn’t mind vocalizing his anxiety, either, sighing melodramatically each time the GPS blurted out another demand.

“Y’know Satori, this would be a lot easier if you could just tell me which way to turn to get to your house.” She added, lowering the volume without even looking at her device.

“I know, but I don’t wanna.”

“Whelp, seems like you don’t have to anymore.” She laughed, stopping almost abruptly and taking a sharp turn into a driveway, his driveway. He whined, sinking lower into his seat and covering his face with his hands.

“__, please don’t do this to me, my beautiful little angel baby, you’ll get torn apart in there.”

__ said nothing in reply, kicking her car door open and kissing Satori on his forehead, the softness of her lip balm leaving an imprint.

“C’mon, ya big baby. I’m sure your parents are waiting.”

Satori nodded, unbuckling himself and hesitantly exiting the car.  __ was waiting for him, so he took her hand in his own, and walked her up the pavement towards his doorstep.

Before either one of them could even reach the door, however, it had already been slammed open, incoherent, excitable female voices ripping through the house. A brunette woman popped her head out and gasped, then all but screamed as she darted out the door into the snow in sock clad feet and straight for __. __ almost yelped as she was suddenly picked up by the woman, who was taller than her by a foot, at least. She couldn’t quite tell what the woman was rambling on about, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Satori blushing profusely into the palm of his hand, shaking his head and waiting for whoever this woman may be to put her down. All __ could do in that moment was hug the woman back, despite not even knowing her. She had to be one of Satori’s sisters, or at least she assumed so. At first glance, __ saw that she was a tall woman, not as tall as Satori, but she was up there. She had tumbling brown hair that fell down towards her waist, and when __ placed her hands on the woman’s back, she realized she had quite the muscular build. She figured it had to be Aya, she fit Satori’s description quite well.

When she was finally set down by the woman, __ noticed her eyes. Like Satori said, they weren’t as wide, or tired as his, they were almond shaped and beautiful. They were light green and complemented the freckles on her cheeks.

“Oh my god, you’re so adorable.” Aya was beaming, her hands traveling from __’s back to her shoulders, then eagerly grasped __’s hands. “I’m Aya, Satori’s older sister, it’s so nice to meet you, sweetheart.”

__ giggled and shot a glance up at Satori, who was shifting his weight from leg to leg awkwardly in the corner. It shocked him to see her smile, genuinely, and not out of sheer nerves.

“I’m __, it’s really nice to get to meet you after all this time, Aya.”

“Oh, this little idiots been talking about you for years.” Aya rasped, shuffling over the snow to pull her brother into a choke-hold momentarily. “You wouldn’t believe the things that came out of this kid’s mouth before y’all were even dating.” She laughed, ruffling with Satori’s hair before pushing him away, then pulled __ into another hug. She heard Satori sigh, then mutter something about getting the bags from the trunk. Aya paid no mind to it, and lead __ into the house, never losing her grip on the former’s hand.

The moment __ stepped foot into Satori’s house, she couldn’t help but smile. It was very his taste, she thought, from the murals of mountains of the walls to the several misplaced christmas lights hanging across the staircase, it wouldn’t be very hard for her to classify this place as ‘Tendou’.

Aya had lead her into the kitchen, next, exclaiming at the top of her lungs to, “Look at Satori’s girlfriend!” __ felt her cheeks warm up slightly, the exposure not necessarily agitating her, but definitely embarrassing her. A woman with short brown hair examined her next. She had the same, sleepy ruddy eyes as Satori had. __ noticed her eyebrow quirking upwards in the same way Satori’s did when he was examining something, and she found it hard not to call it cute. __ also noticed that nobody else in the house was red-headed like Tendou was. The middle aged man and woman standing by the stove, presumably Satori’s parents, we’re both brunettes, as well as both the sisters, despite who __ thought was Hana, whose hair was a bit lighter than the rest. Despite that one key factor, they all definitely had a familiar resemblance. __ couldn’t help but smile.

“Hi, uhm, I’m sorry. Satori’s still outside ‘cause I was kinda mauled.” __ stammered, and Aya laughed, her free hand slapping her on the back. “I’m __, it’s really nice to get to meet you guys, finally.”

Everybody had gotten up on their feet, and came over to the place where __ stood. Satori had come back with the luggage, and shuffled over to __’s side. He protectively nudged Aya out of the way and replaced her hand with his own. __ looked up at him for a moment, a smile toying on her face.

“They’re great.” She mouthed, before his mother pulled her into a hug.

Satori watched as his mother started talking her ear off, and he started blushing again. He knew tonight was going to be too long– full of repressed memories and everyone taking a stab at him to see how embarrassed he could get, and how fast.

Meanwhile __ found herself being crushed in another grasp, and wondered how everyone in this family had such strong forearms.

“Satori’s so in love with you…” His mother muttered into her ear, and for some reason, despite knowing this for years, __ felt herself get fuzzy. She merely hummed, not knowing how to reply.

“You really make him so happy… when he talks about you I swear I’ve never seen him happier, except for maybe volleyball in highschool, but that’s a different story.”

__ laughed, breaking the hug with his mother and giving him a look. He was talking with Hana, now, who really was as tall as Tendou said she was. Although, she noticed he kept sending her nervous glances every so often, as if monitoring the conversation she was having.

“It really is a pleasure to finally get to meet you, Mrs. Tendou. I really wanted to meet you before, but Satori was more nervous about me meeting you lot than I actually was.”

“Oh of course he was, that little stinker.” His mother shook her head and smiled fondly, first at __, then at Satori. “And please, don’t call me Mrs. Tendou, call me Mom.”

Satori was deep in conversation with Hana, at this point. She was asking him how school was going, how paying rent was going, and everything in between about being an adult. She hadn’t asked any questions about __, yet, but he supposed she was saving those for later. There was a moment of brief pause in their conversation, and that’s when Satori heard it, the mom comment. Suddenly his heart stopped, and Hana must’ve picked it up too, because she laughed under her breath and nudged him in the ribs.

“Oh… my go-od…” Satori muttered, slinking up to __’s slide and throwing an arm over her shoulder.

“Hi Mama.” Satori butted in, throwing his other arm around his mom and kissing her chastely on the cheek.

“Hi honey! I was just talking to your angel of a girlfriend over here.”

“I know.” He muttered through clenched teeth. She shot him a knowing, motherly look, then patted him on the back.

“We’re having dinner in ten minutes, why don’t you two go throw your things up in Satori’s old bedroom? Just so it’s out of the way for later.” His mother suggested.

“On it.” Satori nodded at __ to follow him towards the front door and the stairs, but he noticed that Hana had stretched a leg out to block the hall.

“Need any help?” She said, just sarcastically enough for it to pass as a nice gesture. “Y’know, at least one of you looks like you’d need help.”

Satori knew exactly what Hana was going at, and he hated it. He shot her a look, then glanced over at __, who had picked up on her all but selfless gesture as well. Instead of shooting a witty response back or defending herself like she always had with Satori, he was surprised to watch her cover her mouth, then laugh. This must’ve caught Hana off guard, too, because she stood up straight in the doorway and silently went to pick up a bag from the mudroom.

“That wasn’t all that funny.” He said, nudging __ in the hip once Hana was up the stairs.

“I know, it wasn’t, but that’s such a you thing to say?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I dunno. You. Your sense of humor, your way of speaking. I absolutely love it.”

The ten minutes had come and gone. The bags were placed in Satori’s old bedroom– not without being relentlessly teased about the anime posters hanging above his bed, though. Hana thought it would be funny to show __ just how many figures he had stock piled in his closet, to which __ didn’t really mind. Hana was doing it to tease her, really. Asking her questions about the weird habits Satori has, and how she deals with it. Poking fun at his appearance just to see what __ would do. (In that point in time, she just dismissed all the nerdy things she teased him about and shook her head obviously when Hana mocked his appearance.) It really amused Satori, how Hana could be so protective about him when it came to other people teasing him, but absolutely ruthless when it came to her teasing him herself.

Sitting at the dinner table, Satori found it harder to eat than usual. __ was doing just fine, though. She was having an offhand conversation with Aya in between bites of a roll, covering her mouth with her hand politely as she spoke. If it weren’t for the drastic physical differences between __ and the rest of his family, a stranger would’ve thought that this was __’s family, and Satori was the awkward boyfriend.

The rest of the conversations at the table fell quiet, everybody focused on their own thing to actually slip a conversation through. Well, that’s what Satori had thought, until Aya cleared her throat and, slowly but surely shouted, “Satori? When are you gonna pop the question already?”

Satori stiffened in his seat. If he didn’t have an appetite before, he definitely didn’t have one now. He noticed __ tense up too, covering her mouth with her hand and averting her eyes from the table to her lap. Yes, this was what he had been afraid of.

Aya’s girlfriend hit her on the arm. “You can’t just ask that at the dinner table!” She hissed, only for Aya to shrug

“I do what I want. The kids a keeper. I mean, just look at her.

__ didn’t look so great in the moment, though. Her eyes were blown wide, darting everywhere besides the faces of his family members.

“Aw, she doesn’t look too great.” Hana chuckled. “Does that mean that she doesn’t want to get married?”

Satori didn’t know whether to tell off Aya, Hana, or get his mom involved. He would’ve gone with his mother, but she looked amused, almost as if she was going to throw in a comment of her own. His dad couldn’t care less– this was the type of situation he’d call, “Lady Talk.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to get married to Satori.” __ added, uncovering her mouth. “It’s just that you guys rea-ally have a knack for saying embarrassing things at embarrassing times. Jeez!”

“You sure that’s all?” Hana teased.

“Yes, that’s all. I get that you guys are all real protective of him, with his past and him being the youngest and everything, but I can assure you that I’d never do anything to purposefully hurt him.” __ shrugged, leaning over in her seat to peck Satori on the cheek. “And for the record, we happen to get along ‘cause I’m a nerd too, so your plan to embarrass him kinda failed. There isn’t much that we haven’t shared with each other… ah… I hope that answers some of your other questions, too.” She winked at Hana, who’s smirk had faded into a dumbfound frown.

It was Satori’s turn to flush red now, he couldn’t bring himself to look over at his girlfriend, and only focused of Hana’s face. He was expecting another insult, or possibly a curse, but all she did was hold her hand up slowly, and high-fived __ from across the table.

“Atta girl, that’s what I like to hear.” Hana shouted, slapping __’s hand just a little too hard for both __’s and Satori’s liking.

“Great, great. I mean no disrespect or anything towards you, by the way. I really respect that are aren’t careless about your brother decisions.”

“Really? Thank you! Aya’s right, pop the question!” Hana shot a glance at Satori, who had buried his head in his hands at this point. Satori should’ve known all along that he shouldn’t be worried about his family embarrassing __. He should’ve known that the tables would’ve turned right back on him.

#merry christmas #tendou satori #haikyuu!! #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! scenarios

[in-mysme-hell]

can you do RFA and V reacting to a very anxious MC (maybe social anxiety?) who needs a lot of care to calm down and feel safe?? Thanks!

relatable thank you for this one, anon. I also have social anxiety and just imagining how these amazing jellybeans would handle it is quite calming. I added Saeran as well he’s a precious little stardust and deserves all the love but I had to add him and V to another post bcuz as always I can’t control myself and this is hella long but you guys likey so here ya go my lovelies

| V & Saeran |

Pupper Yoosung:

He panicked a little when you first told him; he thought it was a lot like Rika’s condition

But when he saw you wringing your hands nervously and biting your lip, waiting for his reaction, he forced himself to relax

His MC needed him to be a man strong for her

“W-what does that mean? Are you okay? Do you take medication?”

Slow down baby boy

You explained how you had anxiety when it came to large crowds or public speaking, how you would begin to sweat and breathe heavily…until you passed out it only happened once you swear

He was determined to be the most caring bf ever and at first, tried to avoid letting you go out to the mall or just busy establishments. Even insisted that you not pick him up from campus, though you didn’t realize at first why.

“I’m not handicapped, Yoosung,” you said irritatedly, though low-key you were so grateful and loved him even more for his thoughtfulness

Then one day, you were out looking for a birthday present for him and you knew exactly what you wanted. Except ofc dozens of other customers also wanted that newly released video game.

He was in class when he got a call from you and you were gasping his name into the speakers. He found you huddled on the bench outside the store, your head between your knees as you tried to even out your breathing.

It took a lot of whispered reassuring on his part and he made you count with him - “Inhale. One. Two. Three. Four. Hold it for one, two, three. Exhale. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.”

He took you home and pampered you all night. Made you your favourite simple meal since the anxiety suppressed your appetite even though you hadn’t eaten all day. Read your favourite book to you and even ran you a bubble bath.

Whenever you need to go somewhere crowded, he’s there to hold your hand tightly and distract you by making funny remarks so that you’re too busy laughing to pay attention to your surroundings. And if you feel your anxiety rising in your chest, beginning to suffocate you, say the word and he’ll whisk you away to safety

Baehee Jaehee:

Jaehee loved Zen’s life performances with fervently, but you didn’t exactly share the same sentiments. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy watching your narcissist friend showcase his talents for the lucky viewers, oh no, you fuckin’ loved that part. Seeing the absolute joy in his eyes as he got to act out his dreams on stage - you could relate to why Jaehee and the rest of his fans were captivated by him.

But it was damn hard to enjoy his shows when your throat was tight and your heart wouldn’t stop pounding because of all the bodies surrounding you.

Too close. They were way too close.

And they were screaming and they just wouldn’t stop and you could breathe and you were terrified and -

“MC? Are you okay?”

Jaehee had noticed how pale you’d gotten and the sheen of sweat covering your face. You turned to her with wide eyes, your hands gripping the arm rests painfully, and opened your mouth to reply but the words wouldn’t come out.

Tears were welling up in your eyes, the feeling of dread growing in the pit of your stomach. And this precious angel, she gently grasped your hands, looked your dead in the eyes, and said, “C’mon, MC. Breathe with me. You’re okay. I’m here.”

A whimper escaped your lips, and she let go of your hands to place her own on either side of your head. Then, pressing her forehead against yours, she whispered, “Ignore them. It’s just you and me. Look into my eyes and forget them. Just you. And me. That’s it.”

“J-Jaehee?” you choked out quietly.

“They don’t matter. It’s just us in our own little world. Think about when we get home. We’ll curl up on the sofa with your favourite hot chocolate. Just us.”

And not even half an hour later thats what you were doing. Jaehee knew coffee only made anxiety worse and from then on she made it her mission to learn as many caffeine-free recipes. Milk, especially, was soothing and so you can be damn sure she perfected her honey vanilla tea latte recipe

She was ever so patient when you finally explained your anxiety and the claustrophobia that accompanied it. It explained why you jumped at loud noises.

She would make sure to take enough time away from the cafe to take walks in the park with you. The fresh air and open space really helped with your nerves, especially on tough days.

Lovely Zen:

You love this man with your whole heart. You’d take a bullet for him, and you know he’d do the same for you. You’d walk through fire for him. You’d handle pretty much anything to ensure his happiness. That’s how sure you were of your love.

But what you couldn’t stand was his audience. That crowd of shrieking girls all vying for a glance spared by the red-eyed god and the dirty looks they threw you. Tbh, you didn’t care much for their nasty remarks - they were just jealous that Zen only had eyes for you.

It was when their attention was on you and your insecurities began to claw up. You would get so self-conscious about the smallest things - was your outfit appropriate, was your hair in place, what if you tripped, what if you blurted out the wrong things in front of the camera, what if you embarrassed Zen?

You knew, you knew you shouldn’t worry about these things. Zen could care less about your appearance and honestly, it shouldn’t matter what other people thought. Regardless of how perfect you looked, they would always have something negative to say.

You knew all this, but still your mouth went dry, a rush of dizziness descended over you, and your chest tightened to the point that it hurt.

Zen didn’t know all of this, simply because you didn’t want him to worry. But then the day came where Zen was meeting with his fans after a performance. There was a large crowd surrounding him and you were standing at the side, wringing your hands. You were feeling uneasy because of all the eyes on you and Zen didn’t have his phone on him so you couldn’t even text him. If it weren’t for the fact that you two were going to be late for the dinner with your parents, you wouldn’t be trying so hard to catch his attention.

You called out his name a couple times and even attempted a half-wave. A couple of the girls near you were snickering at your pathetic motions and your stomach was in knots. You could practically hear the things they were whispering to each other and even though you tried to tell yourself it didn’t matter, you found yourself fleeing to the bathroom just in time to throw into the toilet.

You didn’t realize that Zen had noticed your presence just as you had whirled around to make your escape and that he had followed you. He held back your hair and rubbed circles into your back.

You tried to apologize and explain the situation, and somehow he understood you through your hiccuping sobs. Holding you in his arms, he murmured in your ears, “Shh, it’s okay, Princess. These people don’t matter. They won’t even remember this an hour from now. I’ve got you, babe. You’re gonna be fine. Your knight in shining armour is here to protect you.”

He would make an extra effort to compliment you constantly, his ruby eyes always wide and earnest. When there would be situations where you’d make a small mistake, he’d smoothly take over before anyone else could notice or your anxiety reared its head. He would also be the one ordering when you went out for food or on the phone, and never once did he complain

Daddy Jumin:

Being Mrs. Han was a lot less spa days and a lot more meeting important people, potential business partners, and just folks who wanted to impress your husband. In turn, it was your duty to make a good impression so that C&R reputation wouldn’t be tainted.

Jumin didn’t know before marrying you that you had severe anxiety when it came to meeting new people and making conversation. The fear that they would be judging you silently and you would say the wrong thing was ever-present in the back of your mind

And holy fuck did this man love showing you off bruhh

He wanted to introduce you as his wife, his MC, to everyone from his maid he finally met the poor woman to the Prime Minister!!

You were literally a train wreck on heels, diamonds resting above your pounding heart and around your neck like a noose, biting down on your lip hard enough that your blood mixed with the rouge of your designer lipstick.

“Sweetheart, this is Tae-Yung Choi, Minister of Foreign Affairs. Mr. Choi, this is my precious wife, MC.”

You smiled tightly, swallowing hard when the man kissed the back of your hand and bowed fuck you should’ve worn a sleeveless dress to hide pit stains

Even after he lets go and steps back, remarking that your husband is a lucky man, your jaw is clenched and your eyes are flitting everywhere but the couple before you. It’s only when you notice that his wife is staring at you intently that you realize everyone is waiting for you to respond.

You apologize quickly and excuse yourself, avoiding Jumin’s worried gaze. You slip through the crowd, making your way to the elevator as fast as you can without running.

You gulp in the cool night air like a woman dying of thirst and lean back against the rough brick of the side of the hotel. Your bodyguards had followed you to the wide alley beside the building and you were sure one of them was texting your husband at this very moment.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you fought back the tears that were threatening to break through your composure. Why were you so weak? Why was such a simple social interaction like a battle for you?

“Kitten, are you unwell?”

When you opened your eyes and turned to look at your concerned husband standing beside you, he immediately noticed your glassy orbs. His brow furrowed in confusion and you could practically see the gears turning in his brilliant mind as he tried to figure out what had made you upset.

Before he could start threatening and firing people for upsetting his princess, you tried to explain your social anxiety to him the best you could. He didn’t understand why were you still afraid when you knew your fears were irrational but he still swept you into his arms and pressed a bruising kiss to your swollen from all that nervous biting lips.

“Darling, everyone knows better than to point out any mistakes on your part. You’re Mrs. Jumin Han, the most powerful woman in any room that you walk into. They’re the ones who are afraid to make a mistake in your presence.” You giggled at his blunt response and his heart skipped a beat at one of his favourite sounds in the world.

You can bet your life savings that this man would have poor Jaehee prepare a report on anxiety, specifically the kind you had, and would contact one of the most renowned psychologists in the field to explain it to him and to help you in every way possible

His absolute confidence was always a good crutch in situations where your anxiety would begin creeping in. In the evenings, he would draw you a bath where you were pressed against his chest and glasses of wine in your hands. He would pamper you by bathing and massaging you, and you especially loved when he washed your hair his hands were orgasmic on every part of you head to toe

He read that animals helped with anxiety sometimes and you got to witness the cutest moment where he crouched down before Elizabeth the 3rd and explained to her the importance of protecting the Princess. It was actually calming to hold the white beauty in your arms and stroke her fur.

GOD Seven:

Neither of you leave the house much, which usually works out until the threat of starvation strikes. Ordering groceries online was a pain with the bunker’s heavy security, and Seven was usually busy with work

So it mostly came down to you to be the one to make sure the three of you had something more to eat than just chips and ice cream (Saeran didn’t mind). You tended to avoid ordering food on the phone what if you messed up the order or what if you didn’t understand what they were asking and had to ask them to repeat themselves several times?! 

And going out to the store was a whole other struggle what if you’re counting out the correct change or looking for your wallet in that huge purse, and taking too long and then the person behind you would be annoyed

There was just so many what ifs and awkward scenarios!! How on earth were you supposed to make it out unscathed?? There was honestly nothing you hated more that awkward situations, your face would turn as red as Saeyoung’s hair and your hands would shake ofc then you would spill the money you were counting out and you would stutter while trying to order food at the restaurant everyone would be witness to your shame

Saeyoung had enough on his shoulders with his own depression and then Saeran’s depression, anxiety, and PTSD. Besides, you didn’t consider your anxiety that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things. 

You woke up with a feeling of unease already settling in your gut, and it worsened when you realized all the errands you had to run. You’d been putting them off and you didn’t want Saeyoung to ask questions, so you forced your limbs to carry you out of the house. You stammered and sweated your way through the check you had to deposit with the bank teller since their machines were broken. Blood rushed in your ears and made you dizzy when a customer behind you at the store made an offhand comment about how people should have their order decided instead of wasting everyone’s times.

After today’s events, you were irritable, your mind still on edge, body stuck in flight-or-fight-mode. You were agonizing over an email you were writing to a party guest, unsure of specific words you had used its an actual worry, when Saeyoung asked you if you had picked up the milk.

“I’m not a fuckin’ robot maid. I can’t remember every little thing. You would know if you actually got off your ass for once and helped,” you snapped.

Immediately, the guilt and fear sets in. You trying to apologize but you’re having trouble breathing and you’re clawing at your throat. You’re shaking violently as you fall to the floor, your head spinning sickeningly. 

Your husband knows what to do from helping Saeran through his own panic attacks. He first sets about regulating your breathing, even alternating between plugging nostrils. Once the noose around your neck loosens he’s having you take small sips of water.

He talks you through your anxiety attack, “MC, look around you. Tell me 5 things you can see. C’mon, sweetheart. 4 things you can touch. Good girl. Now 3 things you can hear. 2 things you can smell, baby. 1 thing you can taste, my goddess.”

He likes to wrap himself around you, pressed tightly against you, able to felt each other’s heartbeats. You love to rest your cheek against his bare chest, listening to the sound of his heart - proof of his existence - and you find that it helps ebb the anxiety away.

Would def try to distract you with memes and funny cat videos. He’d even build a robot puppy named Woof-Woof totally besties with Meowy that would reassure you and compliment you the moment it senses the slight bit of anxiety. It would also help count your breathing with you if Saeyoung wasn’t around to do so.

- admin Shay

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger zen #mystic messenger headcanon #mystic messenger imagines #mystic messenger scenarios #mystic messenger yoosung #mystic messenger jumin #mystic messenger jaehee #mystic messenger seven #social anxiety #anxiety #rfa reactions #admin shay #holy fuck its long #trigger warning

[laura15starcrown-blog]

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Two months ago...

Maylee had been hiding from her cousins for an hour and a half. She was squished in between two bookshelves, her body tensed to hear if they were coming. They were playing their favorite game: find Maylee, chase her, then pull her hair very-very hard.

She finally stepped out of her hiding place, bravened by the resolve that she’d rather face her cousins then wait there starving until they found her.

She was scurrying down the hall to the kitchen when she heard screams coming from outside. She looked out the window to see her two cousins chasing each other. Eliza was throwing rocks at Edwin who, bright boy that he was, was reflecting it with fistfulls of dirt.

“Little monsters.” She muttered. They had forgotten about her at least. She wondered if becoming a teenager would change anything. Would Elisa and Edwin finally respect her? Probably not, but it was worth hoping for.

As she was about to head down the stairs that led to the kitchen, she ran headlong into someone else. She felt a hard ‘clunk’ to her head, and someone exclaim. Something has clattered and thudded to the floor while she stood there clutching her head.

“I’m so sorry miss! I really am!” She blinked, staring into two hazel eyes.

“Who are you?” She asked. She knew almost every servant and she had never seen him before.

“I’m Peter Kent miss. I-I’m the new kitchen boy, this is only my second day. I just knew I’d mess it up.” She couldn’t help but feel bad for his exasperated and miserable expression.

“It's alright. It was as much my fault as yours, I wasn’t looking where I was going and neither were you, no wonder with that giant platter you were carrying.”

“It's the mail tray.” He said, his voice a little less frantic.

“Well then, here's your tray.”

She said, picking up the silver tray up and handing it to him. Mail was scattered all over the floor. “I am sorry I hit you with it. Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m fine, just don’t do it again.” He gave her a relieved smile and nodded. She started helping him pick up letters. She picked up a brown paper package, about to hand it to Peter when she saw the address, and more importantly, who it was addressed to.

“Maylian Oddity?” She read. Was it a birthday present? It was going to be her birthday in a week. She looked closer. It was from someone named…”Henry A. Oddity?” She gasped.

She heard Peter ask what was wrong, but his voice was miles away.

She said the name over again, trying to register what this meant. Whoever Henry A. Oddity was, he was related to her. He had to be. Why had she never heard of him? Her grandmother had never told her that her father had a family. Was she imagining this? Could this mean what she thought it did? These questions circled dizzily through Maylee’s head. She had always wished that she could have had another family.

“Um...can I have that?” Asked Peter.

“It's addressed to me. It's mine. You can’t—and I mean cannot, under any circumstances, tell anyone that I received this package, do you understand?” She asked, the importance of it making her voice quaver.

Peter backed up, “Yes. I understand, miss.”

She hesitantly tore the paper away, her fingers shaking. Inside was a green book titled, The Titles of Imaginary.

There was a small note which fell out when she opened it. She picked it up and read in her mind, Happy Birthday Maylian. She flipped it over, on the other side was written, To cherish the wonder of life

You must see the threads beyond the mind’s eye...

What did that mean?

She shook her head. She was not upset at this secret, not yet, but she was curious and she knew what she wanted to do. “Peter?”

“Yes, miss?” He stood there, his face perplexed. He had all the mail back on his tray.

Maylee sighed, “I’m sorry for …” Snapping? She wasn’t the best at apologies, but she wanted and needed him to help her.

“You don’t need to apologize, I get that it’s a secret.” He said matter-o-factly.

“Yes. Ok, well, I was going to ask if you wanted to do a job for me.”

“What is it?”

She bit her lip.

“Is there a way you could...secretly deliver a letter for me?”

He thought about it and nodded.

“Yes, I think so. Though it’s not really my job to deliver the mail. Its Tobias’s, he just wanted me to do it for him this once. He wanted extra time with Margaret. But it is my job to get stuff and deliver it. It being secret won’t make much of a difference.”

“Perfect! Thank you.” She breathed a sigh of relief.

He looked around, though there was no one there besides themselves. He opened his mouth then closed it.

“Is there something-”

“I do have a request. For payment.” He finally said.

Her heart sunk, she didn’t have anything to give him, definitely not money. Her grandmother never gave her any, unless they were going into the city. He looked nervous and embarrassed. “You see, I’ve had about as much schooling as most boys in my station could have, I suppose. But I just wished I knew a bit more. Would it be out of place to ask if you could-”

“Teach you?” She asked. Never before had she met a kid who wanted to learn. She didn’t think she was very qualified to teach anyone. As her governess had told her, she had the attention span of a fruit fly.

“I suppose so.” Peter’s eyes lit up, his face breaking into a brilliant smile. He bowed,

“It is settled then, I shall be your faithful messenger boy Miss Fontain, or may I now call you, Madam instructor?”

She shifted awkwardly. “You can stop calling me Miss Fontain, or Maylian, just Maylee, really. And please don’t call me madam instructor ever again.”

He smiled. “Agreed.”

She looked down at the brown packaging paper. She hoped writing a letter to this address and whoever Henry A. Oddity was, would answer her millions of questions. She folded it up and tucked it into her pocket.

“How will I find you again?” Peter asked.

“We’ll meet at the old oak on Burn’s hill, do you know where that is?”

“I think so.”

“Alright then. Tomorrow, at one. I’ll bring some of my school books and we can have a proper lesson. It'll have to be quick one though.” She said with more confidence than she felt.

“I don't mind.”

“Ok then. It was nice to meet you Peter.”

“It was nice to-”

But she had already headed down the hall, flurrying to her room, hiding the book with her dress. Her heart beat excitedly and her stomach growled. She had forgotten she was hungry. Too late. She had a letter to write.

~

It was a week after she had written her letter to the Henry A. Oddity.

And today was her thirteenth birthday.

All week she had been waiting for the letter from the unknown Oddity and he still hadn’t responded. Peter insisted he had dropped the letter off at the mail office himself. Maybe he just didn’t want to write back, but she hoped that wasn’t the reason.

She had started her first lesson with Peter. At first she had been hesitant and scattered, but eventually she had grown comfortable enough with him and they were now on the history of the Alfred the great. She was teaching him all of British history, the only subject she did enjoy. Their lessons only lasted half an hour, during her lunch and outdoor break, before she had to hurry to her own lessons and her governess, Miss Ebony, who had not yet suspected that her outdoor time was being spent teaching the kitchen boy.

Peter was a quick learner and had patience even when she babbled on about nothing or forgot rather important facts.

Their lessons had surprisingly distracted her from dreading today. Her birthday.

Her grandmother had insisted she have a birthday party and invite the neighboring girls her age. Maylee wanted to lie in bed and never get up.

“Miss Maylee! Miss Maylee, may I come in?” Asked a bright voice from outside her door.

Maylee groaned, but she smiled as she opened her bedroom door.

“Happy Birthday!” Cried Nancy, throwing her hands up and hugging Maylee, kissing her cheek. She started singing and picking up the cleaning things she left by the door. She bustled in, talking and laughing on about birthday preparations and excitement.

“And, I have a your grandmother's birthday present! She wanted you to wear it today!”

Nancy picked up a parcel and handed it to Maylee with a little clap. Maylee thought, at twenty three, Nancy was sometimes more childlike than her.

Maylee pulled back the rapping and pulled out a dress.

“It's-” Said Nancy,

“It's hideous.” Said Maylee. Nancy didn’t argue.

“Oh, well, there's shoes too!” Nancy pulled out a pair of leather boots. “Ah! these are nice!”

“I guess they're alright. This dress though, it looks like a pink, ruffled nightmare!”

“We still need to see what it looks like on, turn around.”

Nancy helped her put it on, buttoning the twenty something buttons that ran down the back. “Now, look at yourself, you’re beautiful.”

She pulled back Maylee’s long and tangled, red-gold hair from her face, fixing it with a pin.

Maylee glanced over herself, but smiled at Nancy's rosy cheeks and sparkling blue eyes in the reflection beside her.

“Thank you Nancy.”

“Don’t look so gloomy, it's your birthday!”

“That's why I'm gloomy. I don't want a birthday party, and now I have to wear this! I look like a frosted cake!”

“It not that bad.” Nancy said, getting on her hands a knees,and starting to clean under the bed. “Lord Melbourne, it's filthy down here! I need to clean under here at least once a week from now on.”

“But it's pink!” Maylee insisted, still surveying herself in the mirror.

“What’s this?” Asked Nancy, pulling a wooden box from under the bed.

Maylee spun around with a gasp, she pulled it out of Nancy’s hands, hugging it to herself.

“It's nothing, just some-um-silly stuff.” She said with an awkward laugh. Nancy's eyebrow rose. She shrugged. “Alright then, you have your little secrets miss Maylee, but I can't well argue with you, especially when it's your birthday.”

In one quick swoop Nancy made the bed and tidied up the room, she gave another quick kiss to Maylee and a whisper that she would see her later, and she was gone.

Maylee turned about her room, inspecting it for a new place to hide her box where she had hidden the letter and book. She tried stuffing it in her dresser drawer but it wouldn’t fit. She put it back under her bed, covering it with a couple blankets, she would have to find a better hiding place later.

~

At breakfast she was as uncomfortable as she always was, if not more so.

She had been given a forced “Happy birthday cousin Maylian” from her cousins and a quick “happy birthday” from her aunt who barely looked her way, until, with a surprised and amused expression, she saw what Maylee was wearing.

Her uncle still hadn't said anything as he read, hidden behind his paper.

Her grandmother had said, in a more than usual warmth, that she looked quite pleasing today and whether she liked the dress.

“Of course. Thank you grandmother.” She noticed Nancy against the wall repress a smile.

Her governess, Mrs Ebony, sat as tall as a rod. Her dark hair pulled back in a resolutely stiff bun. Her pale face ended in what might kindly be called a Grecian nose; It was a moulded arch probably seen more frequently in the days of the ancients.

Miss Ebony said, after Maylee took her seat, “My dear Maylian, a very fortunate and pleasant happy birthday to you. You are now a young lady.” The way she said it made Maylee feel like it was more a foreshadowing of doom.

[synoir]

They tagged me! I tag you!

I was tagged by @thebookimaginarium (sorry I know this is late, but I had a rollercoaster of a week and didn’t have the time!)

What would you name your future kids? Ugh this is so hard. I always low-key hated Turkish names. The meanings are often beautiful but the sound? Not so much. I always loved the name Alex though, or Aleks in Turkish. I may name my child that. Recently I’ve started to think Kuzey (Coo-zey) which means ‘north’ is a nice male name. A, Z, X, K are my favourite letters in names so probably something with those.

Do you miss anyone? It has been a year since I cut ties with so many toxic people in my life, and I was afraid that I would miss them. But no, turns out I don’t.

What are you looking forward to? Buying that camera I want. Seven months to go!

Is it hard of you to get over someone? Not really. If I decide to move on without them, it’s pretty easy to let go. Mind over matter.

What was your life like last year? On a hold... It was a dreaded in-between. Nothing was certain, and nothing was mine. I literally turned my life upside down and shook so many things from my mind’s pockets for a while I thought I had nothing left. Then slowly I started to climb back up. It’s getting better than ever. Slowly, but surely.

What is your life like this year? It’s a battle. But it’s going good. I have definite goals, and I believe that I will achieve them. It was something I thought I’d lost. I am writing more. Much more. I am creating projects and save for big (for me) investments to better myself. I’m opening the cafè I wanted, so I’m bit scared because I’m not really sure if I want to tie myself to this place so permanently. I am thinking about returning to academia as well, I want to have a graduate degree. I’ve been researching that and I’m not sure if I’ll have time for it. But we’ll see...  This year’s main goal is to create more art. Last year had been a dry period artistically and now I’m devoted to discovering more techniques for photography, to better myself in visual arts (photography and video art mainly), and to write.

Have you ever cried because you were so annoyed? So annoyed... Hmmm. So is an important word there. I have cried when I was so annoyed it became anger, frustration –when it became a box that imprisoned me. Otherwise, if I’m annoyed I walk the other way, silently, and move on.

Who did you last see in person? My aunt and uncle.

Are you listening to music right now? Guilt by Marianne Faithful. I usually listen to music. Except when I’m writing. I need silence when I’m writing.

Does it have anything to do with what you’re doing right now? Nope. I just put on Broken English album by Marianne Faithful, because I haven’t listened to her for a while, and I missed it.

Personality description. Let’s get dirty. Smart and stupid. Unintentionally rude. If I don’t like someone, intentionally rude. Very rude. A dash of cruel and vindictive. But also supportive. Ask my help and it’s yours.  Walls. Big walls. Protective. Very protective. Reader. Stubborn. Dreamer. Oh boy, am I a dreamer... Learner. KNOWING THINGS IS AWESOME. Also honest. I will answer everything honestly. If I choose to hide something I will tell you that I’m not telling you everything. Emotional. Very emotional but also logical. Balancing two is what I do. VISUAL. Homebound traveller. I can travel for months and months, and I will always miss home. And home is where I’ve put my bed. I don’t care about the country, city or whatever. 

Have you ever been to New York City? Nope. Never been to USA. Or any part of the Americas for that matter.

Birthday and age? 17th of July. 26 until then.

Are your crushes mainly girls or guys? Guys. I’m into guys. They are gorgeous. But honestly, I can crush on a girl’s mind. Or I can crush on any human if I want to photograph them. I can look at someone’s face and just dream. I objectify people as an occupation.

Favorite quote? From The Dispossessed by Ursula LeGuin: “You cannot take what you have not given, and you must give yourself. You cannot buy the Revolution. You cannot make the Revolution. You can only be the Revolution. It is in your spirit, or it is nowhere.”

Something you want to learn? Applying gold and silver leaf to my photographs is something I want to experiment with. Also hand painting (tinting) photo prints as well... I’m interested in mixing my methods a little bit. Get the creative juices flowing. Learning is a big part of that so I’m sure I won’t stop anytime soon. I also want to learn French (I’m working on it!). There are lots of other things, but relatively more conceptual... so... silently drifts off...

Favorite subject in school? In high school Literature, History and Geography. In university Film Theory and Semiology. Oh and when I went to Baltic Film and Media School in Estonia via Erasmus we had this elective called the Journey of Sound and Colour which was simply a course that forced me to break my mind and tap into that creative space in it. It was one of the best experiences of my life.

Relationship status? Single.

Favorite book(s)? The Dispossessed, Left Hand of Darkness and The Earthsea Series by Ursula LeGuin. American Gods, Sandman and Smoke and Mirrors (a short story collection) by Neil Gaiman. Philosophy in the Bedroom by Marquise de Sade (I swear it’s not the sex giggle giggle).   The Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan and then also Brandon Sanderson (epic fantasy galore). Of course, Harry Potter series as well; but to be quite honest I enjoy the fanfiction more that the canon so... There are many more, naturally. But I will stop here.

Favorite fictional character? Honestly, I relate to Sirius Black so much, it’s weird. I mean on the surface I got nothing in common with him. But when he is happy, he is happy and when he is angry he is so angry. And so am I. But also because the character is layered and complex and imperfect. I truly love writing him as my own too. Loaded backstory that allows my mind to fill in the holes. Beyond that I love Dream in Sandman but also Desire. Shevek from the Dispossessed. Rand Al’Thor from Wheel of Time is probably my favourite protagonist.

Favorite fictional couple? I’m going to answer this as canon couples.  Coz if we go into the armada there is no return. (Do you have any idea how hard it is to favourite canon couples?)

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. The perfect definition of in good times and in bad. Rhuarc with Amys and Lian from Wheel of Time (yeah I know technically they are not a couple, what with being married to two women. Triads are valid kthnxbye). Fleur and Bill Weasley. Seriously, there is some real hidden gem of a love story there. Beyond that I don’t know. I love couples within the story itself. It’s the story I truly love usually.

Something I’m talented at. Only thing I’m truly talented at is imagining, dreaming. The rest comes from determination and focus. It comes from hard work, care, motivation and drive. I think I see talent as a state of mind, instead of a thing of its own. It’s the lump of iron before it becomes a steel knife.

Please ignore if not interested. LOVE Y’ALL. 

@kreeblimsabs @mechengmama @bellahexlestrange

IF YOU WANT TO DO IT PLEASE DO BECAUSE I WOULD LOVE TO GET TO KNOW YOU AND SAY THAT YOU’VE BEEN TAGGED BY ME! PLEASE. Love you all.  

#know your synoir #tagged #I probably need to re-read the Dispossessed since it has been ages and apparently I missed it #long post #sorry

[zrtranscripts]

Radio Abel, Season Two

Part 5 of 6

The clips collected in this section do not have a set chronological order, but occur when certain other gameplay conditions are met.

This post contains clips related to day of the week, time of day (sometimes including morale percentage) and holidays.

Day of the week and holiday clips are self-evident. Time of day clips will begin with a brief descriptive note in italics.

EUGENE WOODS: All right folks, I'm just popping in between songs here to remind you that it's Monday, and you all know what that means. Yes, it's clean laundry day for those of you lucky enough to have won a laundry ticket in last week's ballot. So if that's you, head on down to see Rajit and pick up your nice fresh socks.

EUGENE WOODS: Oh man...

JACK HOLDEN: Don't say it.

EUGENE WOODS: You know what, Jack?

JACK HOLDEN: I'm not kidding, Gene! I'll leave!

EUGENE WOODS: No, it's just -

JACK HOLDEN: Seriously. Don't.

EUGENE WOODS: I hate Monday - !

JACK HOLDEN: La la la! No, really, every freaking week with the Garfield. Just stop, Gene!

[EUGENE WOODS laughs]

JACK HOLDEN: Ah! "Ruby Tuesday."

EUGENE WOODS: Oh, good one. Ugh, it's tough!

JACK HOLDEN: You can surrender.

EUGENE WOODS: Never! Uh, "Tuesday Afternoon."

JACK HOLDEN: Shenanigans. Who's it by?

EUGENE WOODS: Moody Blues.

JACK HOLDEN: Hmm. All right, sounds plausible. I'll let it pass.

EUGENE WOODS: Your turn.

JACK HOLDEN: "Tuesday's Gone."

EUGENE WOODS: Nice. Didn't have you pegged for a Skynyrd fan, though.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, I went through a phase.

EUGENE WOODS: Who was he?

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, shush.

EUGENE WOODS: Here's something I bet you didn't know.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh God.

EUGENE WOODS: What?

JACK HOLDEN: You've got that voice on.

EUGENE WOODS: What voice?

JACK HOLDEN: That explainy voice you get.

EUGENE WOODS: I don't get a voice!

JACK HOLDEN: Hmm. Fine. Well, what is it?

EUGENE WOODS: I don't want to tell you now.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh no no no, go on! It'll annoy me otherwise.

EUGENE WOODS: No, I'm too worried about the voice now.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, just tell me, for God's sake.

EUGENE WOODS: [sighs] Fine. What I was going to say was we get the word Tuesday from Tyr, the Norse god of war and law. So Tuesday's the day for lawyers and soldiers.

JACK HOLDEN: Shame we're not either, really, eh?

EUGENE WOODS: Hmm. Yeah.

JACK HOLDEN: That was actually quite interesting, though.

EUGENE WOODS: See?

EUGENE WOODS: Ugh. Hump Day, eh?

JACK HOLDEN: What?

EUGENE WOODS: You know, Wednesday, the hump of the week? Got to get over it to get to the weekend? Classic office chat from before the fall?

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, uh, I don't really know. I've never had a job as such.

EUGENE WOODS: Seriously?

JACK HOLDEN: Well, uh... never in an office.

EUGENE WOODS: Right.

JACK HOLDEN: Or well, during what you might call "working hours."

EUGENE WOODS: I don't want to know, do I?

JACK HOLDEN: I'll tell you later.

EUGENE WOODS: You know, I was born on a Wednesday.

JACK HOLDEN: Really? That's funny, actually, because I've never had a birthday on a Wednesday.

EUGENE WOODS: What?

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah. My birthday's never been on a Wednesday.

EUGENE WOODS: But that's... do you not know how a calendar works?

JACK HOLDEN: [snorts] Mister Woods, do you not know when my birthday is?

EUGENE WOODS: Oh. Well, no, not really. Uh, to be honest, after the whole apocalypse thing, it never really came up.

JACK HOLDEN: Ah ha ha! Well then, you're about to feel right stupid, boy-o. It's February 29th.

EUGENE WOODS: Oh, that's pretty cool!

JACK HOLDEN: Why, thank you.

JACK HOLDEN: Hey Gene, I keep forgetting to ask you. How was your appointment this morning?

EUGENE WOODS: My what?

JACK HOLDEN: Your appointment with Maxine?

EUGENE WOODS: Oh.

JACK HOLDEN: Seriously?

EUGENE WOODS: No, look -

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, don't give me any of that.

EUGENE WOODS: But listen, Jack, it was just -

JACK HOLDEN: No, I know what you were just -

EUGENE WOODS: It's not that important.

JACK HOLDEN: Seriously? Eugene, you lost a leg. Yes, you're doing a little better, yes, it's mostly healed, and yes, it was a little while ago, but not that long. So when Maxine says you turn up on Thursday to see her, you turn up on Thursday to see her.

EUGENE WOODS: Fine, fine! I know, I just... no, you're right.

JACK HOLDEN: Didn't I even come and annoy you about it?

EUGENE WOODS: I know! You're right. God, I hate saying that. Feels wrong.

JACK HOLDEN: I know, it's weird for me, too.

EUGENE WOODS: What are you doing?

JACK HOLDEN: Nothing, just checking to make sure the earth is still rotating around the sun.

EUGENE WOODS: [laughs] God, you're such a dork! Get back here and play some music, would you?

EUGENE WOODS: You know what, Jack, I've been thinking.

JACK HOLDEN: Ooh, careful now.

EUGENE WOODS: Idiot. I was thinking about how less than a year ago, I dreaded Thursdays.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh yeah?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah. It was my print deadline for the weekend magazine at the paper, which meant I was usually desperately trying to finish rewriting some review or source some picture for an article, or convince my sub-editor not to replace my carefully-crafted headline with a crappy pun on the word flambé.

JACK HOLDEN: Sounds tough.

EUGENE WOODS: It was stressful, I guess, but yeah. I'd end up working late, not getting out of the office until 10 or 11, then get up on Friday and start working on the next week's magazine. At the time, I hated it.

JACK HOLDEN: And here it comes.

EUGENE WOODS: Here comes what?

JACK HOLDEN: Here comes the wistful, "What I wouldn't do to be back there right now, sub-editing an article at the last minute while my face fell off from tiredness."

EUGENE WOODS: Oh? Well, yeah. What's your point?

JACK HOLDEN: It's post-apocalypse nostalgia! Gene, everyone's got it. "If I could just go back to that time, I'd never complain about taxes or traffic jams or anything."

EUGENE WOODS: So? It's true.

JACK HOLDEN: It's total crap! People always complain. There's always someone worse off than you, but that doesn't stop stuff annoying you. Back then it was work and X Factor and the government. 

Now, it's no showers and sleepless nights and the possibility of being slaughtered by the living dead. But it's all just the... I don't know, the high cost of living, I guess. No matter how good they've got it, every complains, all the time. Get over it!

EUGENE WOODS: Hmm.

JACK HOLDEN: What?

EUGENE WOODS: You are so full of it.

JACK HOLDEN: Hey Eugene?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah?

JACK HOLDEN: Remember when you were a kid, right?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah.

JACK HOLDEN: And like, you were at school.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah.

JACK HOLDEN: And on Friday you'd get all excited in the last couple of hours of the day, and just sit there staring out of the window, waiting to get home for the weekend?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah.

JACK HOLDEN: That was great, wasn't it?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah.

EUGENE WOODS: Hey Jack?

JACK HOLDEN: What?

EUGENE WOODS: You know, I've been thinking.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh yeah? What is it now?

EUGENE WOODS: Well, I've come to the conclusion that I don't care if Monday's blue.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh! Or like, if Tuesday's gray.

EUGENE WOODS: And Wednesday, too.

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah. And Thursday, I don't care about you.

EUGENE WOODS: It's Friday.

JACK HOLDEN: Friday?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah. It's Friday, and I'm in love.

[JACK HOLDEN and EUGENE WOODS laugh]

EUGENE WOODS: Oh man, I'm so glad it's the weekend.

JACK HOLDEN: Tell me about it. No work to go to.

EUGENE WOODS: No commute.

JACK HOLDEN: No colleagues sniping behind your back.

EUGENE WOODS: No deadlines, no quotas.

JACK HOLDEN: Just a long lie-in and a day spent watching cartoons in your underwear.

EUGENE WOODS: [sighs] Ah, bliss.

[JACK HOLDEN sighs]

EUGENE WOODS: I feel like we're forgetting something.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh God. It's not Monday, is it? Have we done that thing where you think it's Saturday but it's actually Monday?

EUGENE WOODS: Um, no, wait. Let me just check something... holy God, what happened to my leg?

JACK HOLDEN: Oh my God, your leg's off!

EUGENE WOODS: What the heck is going on? Oh, wait. I remember.

JACK HOLDEN: What? What is it?

EUGENE WOODS: That apocalypse thing.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh.

EUGENE WOODS: [snaps fingers] That's what we were forgetting.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh yeah!

EUGENE WOODS: So that's what it was.

JACK HOLDEN: But does this mean we don't get a lie-in?

EUGENE WOODS: Afraid not.

JACK HOLDEN: Bummer.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah. This sucks.

EUGENE WOODS: I want a roast.

JACK HOLDEN: No. No, you can't say that!

EUGENE WOODS: Well, I just did.

JACK HOLDEN: Putting the idea of a roast into an innocent man's head. I was quite happy of the idea of a Sunday meat slop. Now you've put thoughts of gravy into my head.

EUGENE WOODS: Yorkshire pudding...

JACK HOLDEN: Stop it!

EUGENE WOODS: Crispy skin of a roast chicken...

JACK HOLDEN: That's enough, now!

EUGENE WOODS: Brussels sprouts...

JACK HOLDEN: [laughs] Yeah, that's not going to work.

EUGENE WOODS: Roast potatoes...

JACK HOLDEN: Too far! Too far, Gene! I'm off.

EUGENE WOODS: Jack!

JACK HOLDEN: No, that is not cool. You know how I loved roast dinners, and you had to push it, didn't you?

EUGENE WOODS: Mint sauce.

JACK HOLDEN: That is not funny! I've had it up to – you can just – ugh!

EUGENE WOODS: Are you going to pretend to storm off? Will that make you feel better?

JACK HOLDEN: Yes. [opens door]

EUGENE WOODS: Well, will you get me water while you're out?

JACK HOLDEN: Sure. [shuts door]

EUGENE WOODS: He'll be back.

(the next three clips take place before 9:00 a.m.)

EUGENE WOODS: [yawns] Okay, right. Here we go.

JACK HOLDEN: [yawn] Damn, that is contagious.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah, wow. Okay. Good morning, everyone. If you're just joining us, we're... we're with you a bit earlier than usual today.

JACK HOLDEN: Just a bit.

EUGENE WOODS: Well, quite a bit actually, if we're honest.

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah. You know us media types: in bed until noon, out in the clubs networking until three.

EUGENE WOODS: Well, not today.

JACK HOLDEN: Nope!

EUGENE WOODS: Today we're here early with you after a long sleepless night.

JACK HOLDEN: Not a wink between us.

EUGENE WOODS: Nope. You see, it seems one of the kids next door has entered their screaming night terrors phase.

JACK HOLDEN: Which is understandable, given the circumstances.

EUGENE WOODS: Of course. Wailing child, we do not blame you.

JACK HOLDEN: Not at all. But we do wish you a swift return to peaceful sleep.

EUGENE WOODS: Mainly because we'd like some of that ourselves.

JACK HOLDEN: Absolutely. [yawns] I'm exhausted.

EUGENE WOODS: [yawns] You and me both. Right. Let's kick off the day with a song, shall we?

JACK HOLDEN: Great plan. Here you go, guys. A little something to wake you up.

EUGENE WOODS: Oh, it is too early. Too, too early. Jack? Jack, it is just too early to be here.

JACK HOLDEN: Well, it's hardly my fault we had to be up for that fire drill.

EUGENE WOODS: No, I know, I know.

JACK HOLDEN: I mean, what was Janine thinking?

EUGENE WOODS: I know!

JACK HOLDEN: Probably something about efficiency.

EUGENE WOODS: Preparedness.

JACK HOLDEN: Pushing the population of the township to fatigue-induced psychosis.

EUGENE WOODS: [laughs] That does sound like Janine.

JACK HOLDEN: [sighs] The worst bit is she's probably bloody right.

EUGENE WOODS: Almost certainly. Janine, we hope you're listening. We hate you for killing our sleep cycle, but we love you for keeping us safe.

JACK HOLDEN: Maybe just let us sleep in a bit more next time though, eh?

EUGENE WOODS: That'd be nice. We'll be back after this.

EUGENE WOODS: Okay, everyone. It's far too early for us to be witty.

JACK HOLDEN: Uh, speak for yourself.

EUGENE WOODS: All right, go ahead then. Dazzle us with your wit.

JACK HOLDEN: Um... [imitates cowboy voice] Howdy, partners! My momma always said, uh – [laughs] you gotta rise early to –

[BOTH laugh]

JACK HOLDEN: Okay, point taken.

EUGENE WOODS: What was that?

JACK HOLDEN: [laughs] Oh, shut up.

(the following clip takes place before 9:00 a.m., if morale is greater than 75%)

JACK HOLDEN: All right! Uh, good morning, everyone. We're with you bright and early today, catching the worm, rising with the flock, making hay while the sun shines, gathering rosebuds... [laughs] Well, basically, getting out of bed at an appalling time because Eugene wanted to watch the sunrise.

EUGENE WOODS: Well, Jack, you know what they say: life moves pretty fast if you don't stop to look around once in a while. You could miss it.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh God, you're not going to start singing "Danke Schoen" again, are you?

EUGENE WOODS: [sings] I recall Central Park in fall...

JACK HOLDEN: La la la la la! Nope nope, no no, just stop! Stop. It is too early for this.

EUGENE WOODS: [laughs] Fine, fine, fine. I get the message. You're tone-deaf, and you have no appreciation of the wonderful things in front of you, like this sunrise, which I am going to go and enjoy outside.

JACK HOLDEN: Go right ahead, Bueller. I'll be here, you know, doing our job.

EUGENE WOODS: Hey Cameron, do you realize if we played by the rules right now, we'd be in gym?

JACK HOLDEN: [laughs] Get out of here. I've got a song to play.

(the following clip takes place before 9:00 a.m., if morale is less than 30%)

EUGENE WOODS: Ugh.

JACK HOLDEN: Bleurgh.

EUGENE WOODS: Ugh.

JACK HOLDEN: Ugh!

EUGENE WOODS: Why can't there be coffee, Jack?

JACK HOLDEN: I hate this.

EUGENE WOODS: Ugh.

(the next three clips take place between 9:00 a.m. And 12:00 p.m.)

JACK HOLDEN: Ah! Good morning, good morning, good morning!

EUGENE WOODS: Good morning, everyone. You know, Jack, this time of day always reminds me of cereal commercials.

JACK HOLDEN: Well, that's a pretty weird start to a conversation, Gene.

EUGENE WOODS: I don't know, [laughs] it's just on my mind, I suppose. What was your favorite cereal commercial when you were growing up?

JACK HOLDEN: What... what was my favorite cereal commercial growing up?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah!

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, well uh, that's such a tough question. There are so many. Cocoa Puffs, Rice Krispies, Cheerios of course, and then there's Frosties. Man, I'm going to have to think about this for days, come up with a shortlist and get back to you.

EUGENE WOODS: All right, all right. So no major preference.

JACK HOLDEN: It's a tricky question, is all.

EUGENE WOODS: No, fine, you're indecisive. We know this. Listeners, I'm sure you're desperate to know what mine is.

JACK HOLDEN: Drum roll, please.

EUGENE WOODS: Lucky Charms!

JACK HOLDEN: Was that the vampire one?

EUGENE WOODS: No, the leprechaun. You didn't have them over here?

JACK HOLDEN: [snorts] No. A leprechaun? Seriously? Amazing.

EUGENE WOODS: It was cool.

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah, for a given value of cool.

EUGENE WOODS: Oh, shush. Listeners, why don't you drop us a line and let us know your favorite. And in the meantime, do we have a song?

JACK HOLDEN: Yep.

EUGENE WOODS: In the meantime, here's a song.

EUGENE WOODS: Good morning, Abel Township!

JACK HOLDEN: And environs.

EUGENE WOODS: Good morning, Abel Township and environs! And let me tell you something, it's a fine, it's a lovely, it's another great morning here at the end of ci-vi-li-zation!

JACK HOLDEN: Well, someone's perky, today?

EUGENE WOODS: Not a fan of the impression?

JACK HOLDEN: No no no, I love it! It's just, not sure how you've got the energy for it.

EUGENE WOODS: Oh well. You know me, Jack. I've always been a morning person.

JACK HOLDEN: [laughs] Oh yeah?

EUGENE WOODS: Oh yeah! You know, back home there was nothing I liked more than getting up early and going for a walk around the park...

JACK HOLDEN: Hunting a few bears, cutting down a few trees...

EUGENE WOODS: Grabbing a cup of coffee...

JACK HOLDEN: Going dog sled racing...

EUGENE WOODS: And then heading to work feeling properly ready to start the day.

JACK HOLDEN: Hmm.

EUGENE WOODS: What?

JACK HOLDEN: We really are two alien species to one another, aren't we?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah. I have no idea how this works at all.

JACK HOLDEN: Me either. Uh, let's try to figure it out in a break. Music?

EUGENE WOODS: Music.

JACK HOLDEN: Back at you soon, guys.

JACK HOLDEN: All right, Abel Township, rise and shime!

EUGENE WOODS: Rise and shime?

JACK HOLDEN: Rine and shise... [laughs]

EUGENE WOODS: What? Rhyme and - ? [laughs]

JACK HOLDEN: Rime and shie! [laughs] God!

EUGENE WOODS: [laughs] Don't! I can't!

JACK HOLDEN: Rite and shine, Abel! Rite and shine! [laughs] That'll have to do.  

(the following clip takes place between 9:00 a.m. and 12:00 p.m., if morale is greater than 75%)

EUGENE WOODS: Ah, good morning, Radio Abel.

JACK HOLDEN: Good morning, listeners. We hope you're well-rested and ready for another day.

EUGENE WOODS: Absolutely. And well, I don't know if you can hear it -

JACK HOLDEN: Hear what?

EUGENE WOODS: Listen.

JACK HOLDEN: Nope. Are the voices talking to you again?

EUGENE WOODS: Yes. They're telling me to punch you repeatedly until you're quiet.

JACK HOLDEN: Ooh, creepy. Oh, you weren't kidding? Okay, okay, I give up. Sorry, what is it we're listening for?

EUGENE WOODS: Nothing. Just the sound of kids on their way to the quad for school. The sound of food growing on the farm. The sound, Jack, of peace.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh. Yeah, that is nice.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah. Yeah, it is.

(the following clip takes place between 9:00 a.m. and 12:00 p.m., if morale is less than 30%)

EUGENE WOODS: Good morning, Radio Abel listeners.

JACK HOLDEN: It's not morning. Good afternoon, Radio Abel listeners.

EUGENE WOODS: Jack, it's definitely morning.

JACK HOLDEN: It's clearly afternoon. Look at where the sun is.

EUGENE WOODS: Yes, it's rising up to the highest point in the sky, a.k.a. morning.

JACK HOLDEN: No, it's lowering down, a.k.a. afternoon. Look, that's east over there.

EUGENE WOODS: Dear God, that is west, you idiot!

JACK HOLDEN: Don't call me - ! Look, that's clearly east, because New Canton's over that -

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah?

JACK HOLDEN: Oh.

EUGENE WOODS: Right.

JACK HOLDEN: Hm.

EUGENE WOODS: So, good morning, Radio Abel listeners.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, shut up.

(the next three clips take place between 6:00 p.m. and 10:00 p.m.)

[EUGENE WOODS sighs]

JACK HOLDEN: Whoa there, Mister Wistful. What's going on in there?

EUGENE WOODS: Hmm? Oh, nothing.

JACK HOLDEN: No, now, come on. We talked about this. Your "strong and silent" act may be very appealing, but it's not necessarily the most healthy thing in the world, Mister Woods.

EUGENE WOODS: All right, all right. [laughs] I was just thinking about how much I miss having a porch.

JACK HOLDEN: A porch?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah! You know. This time of day, a lovely quality to the dusk, sitting out on the porch with a nice four pack from the local microbrewery and some fresh homemade eggplant chips, just soaking it in. But I guess that's all gone now.

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. Does sound nice. But...

EUGENE WOODS: But what?

JACK HOLDEN: Microbrew? [laughs] Homemade eggplant chips? Eugene, dear, your food critic is showing.

EUGENE WOODS: As is your smart-ass. Now shut up, play some music, and let me enjoy the memory.

JACK HOLDEN: Aye aye, Cap'n.

JACK HOLDEN: You know, that song really reminds me of something.

EUGENE WOODS: Really? Do tell.

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah, yeah, that song and this time of day, it makes me remember that we used to have daylight savings time. Like, we used to change what the time was. The time used to change! And now it doesn't.

EUGENE WOODS: Well, quite apart from the major question of how the heck that song reminded you of daylight savings time, I don't think you understand what time is, or how it works.

JACK HOLDEN: Hey! I do. I, well... well, I think I do.

EUGENE WOODS: Right. Well then, you obviously know that the way we measure time is just a system that we invented, right? There isn't some objective thing that makes it five p.m., that's just what we call it.

JACK HOLDEN: Right. Yeah, yeah, of course. So changing the clocks -

EUGENE WOODS: Come on.

JACK HOLDEN: Changing the clocks just changes what we called it.

EUGENE WOODS: Yup. Bang on.

JACK HOLDEN: Huh. Physics always confused me.

EUGENE WOODS: This isn't – oh. Sure, whatever. Just play the song, would you?

[JACK HOLDEN shudders]

EUGENE WOODS: What's wrong?

JACK HOLDEN: No, I just... do you remember when you were a kid -

EUGENE WOODS: Vaguely, yes -

JACK HOLDEN: - right, right, and when you were a kid, and it got all dark outside but the curtains were still open, and the worst thing you could possibly imagine was that there would suddenly be like, a really creepy face outside the window, staring back in at you?

EUGENE WOODS: [shudders] Yeah.

JACK HOLDEN: Eugene?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah?

JACK HOLDEN: We don't have any curtains.

EUGENE WOODS: Ugh, shut up!

JACK HOLDEN: I'm scared!

EUGENE WOODS: It's fine! ... I'm sure it's fine.

(the following clip occurs between 6:00 p.m. and 10:00 p.m., if morale is greater than 75%)

EUGENE WOODS: All right, guys, I'm afraid we're getting towards the end of our day's live programming.

JACK HOLDEN: Wow, is that the time? Oh, come on, we don't want to be late!

EUGENE WOODS: Don't worry, we've got plenty of time. We don't need to sign off just yet.

JACK HOLDEN: Aww, but I want it to start now.

EUGENE WOODS: I know, but you'll just have to be patient. The thing Jack's talking about, everybody, is the fact that tonight, Janine is hosting a little soirée at her house.

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah, and we're going to miss the best bits if we don't get there on time.

EUGENE WOODS: Jack, we have plenty of time. Come on, do your job.

JACK HOLDEN: Ugh, all right!

EUGENE WOODS: Anyway, things have been pretty good around here lately. Everyone's feeling pretty safe, pretty secure, so Janine's having a little party to celebrate that fact.

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah! The runners have managed to find some old bottles of wine.

EUGENE WOODS: I heard there'll be rum, too.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh God, keep that away from me.

EUGENE WOODS: No rum?

JACK HOLDEN: Never again. My friend Nick from uni once got me so drunk on rum that I threw up on the night bus. [laughs] It was not a pleasant experience.

EUGENE WOODS: All right, no rum for you, then. And no buses.

JACK HOLDEN: Good idea.

EUGENE WOODS: So there'll be wine -

JACK HOLDEN: Yep, wine, and music, and Janine's going to wear a dress!

EUGENE WOODS: Now that, I can't wait to see.

JACK HOLDEN: I know, right? I'm so excited!

EUGENE WOODS: How about another song to get us in the mood, then?

JACK HOLDEN: Ooh, ooh yeah, I've got just the thing.

EUGENE WOODS: Enjoy!

(the following clip takes place between 6:00 p.m. and 10:00 p.m., if morale is less than 30%)

EUGENE WOODS: And we're back. Hope you guys enjoyed that.

JACK HOLDEN: Mm.

EUGENE WOODS: At least, I hope you enjoyed it more than Jack.

JACK HOLDEN: So, more than zero enjoyment, then.

EUGENE WOODS: Well, hopefully. What's wrong with you?

JACK HOLDEN: I'm just... [sighs] I don't know if I can keep doing this.

EUGENE WOODS: What? What do you mean?

JACK HOLDEN: This, all... this. All this bloody darkness, and monsters, and struggling to get by is just – [teary voice] I can't. Gene, I can't do it anymore!

EUGENE WOODS: Jack -

JACK HOLDEN: No, I just -

EUGENE WOODS: Jack, look to me. I know this is hard. No one finds this easy. But that doesn't mean we can give up! Yes, it's dark. Yes, there are monsters out there, and yes, life sucks sometimes. But we're still here to know it sucks, and that has to count for something, right? We're still here, together, and it's going to get light again.

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah, okay. Yeah.

EUGENE WOODS: Okay?

JACK HOLDEN: Okay.

EUGENE WOODS: Put a song on. We'll get some fresh air, eh?

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah, okay.

(the next three clips take place after 10:00 p.m.)

EUGENE WOODS: Hey Jack?

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah?

EUGENE WOODS: Got a question.

JACK HOLDEN: Okay, shoot.

EUGENE WOODS: Right. So before all this, were you a morning person or a night person?

JACK HOLDEN: Hmm... well, when I was at uni -

EUGENE WOODS: College.

JACK HOLDEN: Thanks for the clarification.

EUGENE WOODS: No problem.

JACK HOLDEN: Out of curiosity, just how many North American listeners do you think we have?

EUGENE WOODS: I don't know. There's me -

JACK HOLDEN: You're a host, not a listener.

EUGENE WOODS: Doctor Myers!

JACK HOLDEN: Okay, so one.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah, well okay, it's just a force of habit, isn't it?

JACK HOLDEN: That's your excuse for everything, Mister Still Pulls the Flusher on the Toilet.

EUGENE WOODS: All right, all right. Skip to the end.

JACK HOLDEN: As I was saying, at uni, I never started classes before about two.

EUGENE WOODS: Oh, the brutal life of an art history student.

JACK HOLDEN: Hey, it's a vital and challenging sub- no, no you're right, I mainly took it for the social scene.

EUGENE WOODS: Which was - ?

JACK HOLDEN: Phenomenal, and boozy, and full of very attractive folk.

EUGENE WOODS: Sounds like heaven.

JACK HOLDEN: It was. Well, for me. Not for my overdraft, or my sleep schedule.

EUGENE WOODS: So definitely a night person, then?

JACK HOLDEN: Yup!

EUGENE WOODS: I thought you were a bit more lively at the moment.

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah, I always perk up around this time of... day? Night. Night.

EUGENE WOODS: Lord, if this is you on the ball, then – [JACK HOLDEN slaps EUGENE WOODS] Ow!

JACK HOLDEN: Time for some music.

EUGENE WOODS: Well hello there, all you night owls and moonlight dreamers. You're here with us for the graveyard shift on Radio Abel.

JACK HOLDEN: That's right. You better take your hand off that dial and lean back in your chair now, friends, because we'll be taking good care you all night long.

EUGENE WOODS: I hear that, I hear that. We'll have the best in smooth tunes and smoother talk from now until the sun comes up, so stay right here with Papa Eugene, and -

JACK HOLDEN: Texas Holden. [snorts]

EUGENE WOODS: Texas...

JACK HOLDEN: Texas Holden. [laughs]

EUGENE WOODS: [laughs] Oh God!

JACK HOLDEN: [laughs] Papa Eugene!

EUGENE WOODS: Don't! [laughs] Don't!

JACK HOLDEN: Oh... oh God...

JACK HOLDEN: Wow! The stars are bright tonight.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah, they're really clear, huh?

JACK HOLDEN: [laughs] That's one of the benefits of losing all the cities, I suppose.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah, no light polution. Listeners, if you're able, uh -

JACK HOLDEN: Ba-boom.

EUGENE WOODS: [laughs] Indeed. By which I mean, if you have the ability to see the stars tonight, go and take a look. This is really beautiful.

JACK HOLDEN: Do you know what any of them are?

EUGENE WOODS: Oh. Yeah, for sure. My dad taught me. Uh, let's see... uh, okay, there's Callisto.

JACK HOLDEN: Where?

EUGENE WOODS: Look, just... no, over there to the left. You see that?

JACK HOLDEN: Uh - ? Oh, the Big Dipper.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah, that's her. Listeners, you're looking for a big U shape in the sky with three others coming off it in a crooked line to the left.

JACK HOLDEN: And that's Callisto?

EUGENE WOODS: Mmhmm.

JACK HOLDEN: She's beautiful.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah. Yeah, she is.

(the following clip takes place after 10:00 p.m., if morale is greater than 75%)

[door opens, two people shush each other]

SAM YAO: No no no no, it's fine! Look, we're in!

MAXINE MYERS: No, but shhh, what if we get caught? They'll be back soon!

SAM YAO: Pffft, we're not going to get caught. We are stealthy. Like... ninjas.

MAXINE MYERS: Yeah, like... drunk ninjas!

SAM YAO: [gasps] Are you drunk?

MAXINE MYERS: I am so drunk!

SAM YAO: Because like, you hadn't mentioned that 10 or 11 times in the past hour, so I wasn't sure.

MAXINE MYERS: Oh Sam, you are mean. I don't know why I'm friends with you.

SAM YAO: Because you're drunk. Now come on, come on, let's do this.

MAXINE MYERS: Oh, I'm just going to sit here, just for a little minute.

SAM YAO: Okay. Hang on, wait, wait a minute. Oh! The mic's still on.

MAXINE MYERS: Ah! Janine will not be happy about time wasting her batteries.

SAM YAO: Never mind about all that. Come on. [clears throat] Hello, Radio Abel listeners! [laughs]

MAXINE MYERS: [laughs] Hello, listeners, and welcome to Radio Abel!

SAM YAO: [laughs] What is that? Oh. [imitates EUGENE WOODS] I am Eugene Woods, and this is my partner -

MAXINE MYERS: What? Oh, yeah. [laughs] Uh, I am Jack Holden. Hello, listeners. We're here tonight to talk to you about -

[door opens]

JACK HOLDEN: Oi! Get away from that mic, you!

[MAXINE MYERS laughs]

SAM YAO: [laughs] We have to go, listeners. Stay tuned - [laughs]

JACK HOLDEN: What are you even – come on! Shift!

SAM YAO: Stay safe out there!

MAXINE MYERS: I'm going to wet myself! [laughs]

(this clip takes place after 10:00 p.m., if morale is less than 30%)

EUGENE WOODS: Okay, welcome back. Uh, I know it's late. I know it's dark, so I hope you're safe, if you're listening.

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah, guys. We know it's tough out there right now. Things – well, look, just... let's try to hold it together, okay? ... Gene? What is it?

EUGENE WOODS: Shh!

JACK HOLDEN: What? Again?

EUGENE WOODS: Shh, just - ! No, clear.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh God. Okay. Oh, it's... I thought we were done with this. All this... all this jumping at shadows. I thought we left that behind on the road!

EUGENE WOODS: No, I don't think that'll be behind us for a long time.

JACK HOLDEN: No. No, I suppose not.

EUGENE WOODS: Okay, everyone. Listen uh, we're here with you all night. We're just not going anywhere, so you don't leave us either! You just stay safe. Stay positive.

JACK HOLDEN: Stay safe.

JACK HOLDEN: Now, obviously there are some children out there that know it's Halloween tonight.

EUGENE WOODS: A holiday we keep celebrating.

JACK HOLDEN: Because it's brilliant.

EUGENE WOODS:I just don't know if that's true anymore. Anyway, Major De Santa has requested that – and this should be obvious, but - nobody is to dress up as a zombie. Just to repeat that: nobody is to dress up as a zombie.

JACK HOLDEN: If you do dress up as a zombie, you may well be shot.

EUGENE WOODS: Which would probably put a damper on your trick-or-treating.

JACK HOLDEN: Stay safe, guys.

EUGENE WOODS: So, I don't think any of us were expecting this.

JACK HOLDEN: I didn't even know it was a thing.

EUGENE WOODS: Today is the Mexican festival, the Day of the Dead, and the zoms are...

JACK HOLDEN: Well, they seem to have a slight heightened awareness.

EUGENE WOODS: No, no. This is a joke. Someone's trying to wind us up!

JACK HOLDEN: Well, it's true. Major De Santa told me personally. And when have you ever seen her joke?

EUGENE WOODS: Okay, fine. [paper rustles] So apparently, they've been seen opening doors, sitting, and... you read this out.

JACK HOLDEN: No, I'm not going to read it. You read it.

EUGENE WOODS: I'm going to sound like an idiot!

JACK HOLDEN: Look. Before, people who believed in zombie apocalypses are idiots, and now look. Who knows what the zombies can do, and what obscure Mexican festival they're connected to?

EUGENE WOODS: It's actually not that obscure. It's a pretty big thing.

JACK HOLDEN: Was a pretty big thing.

EUGENE WOODS: Okay. [sighs] One of the zombies has been caught having a cup of tea.

JACK HOLDEN: With a -

EUGENE WOODS: With a saucer. So we're not sure what the zoms are capable of today, so stay safe, guys.

[JACK HOLDEN snorts]

EUGENE WOODS: You made this up, didn't you?

JACK HOLDEN: A little! Imagine – with a saucer. [laughs]

EUGENE WOODS: You said De Santa -

JACK HOLDEN: Right. This is me fishing – [imitates fishing pole sound] and here's me reeling you in, hook, line, and sinker. [laughs]

EUGENE WOODS: Great. But of course, no one fishes anymore. Pike are the only animal that our zombie disease transferred to. Now there's loads of zombie fish, all sorts.

JACK HOLDEN: Ugh! No way. Hang on, didn't we have fish the other day?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah, from a lake. Lakes are like, well... lakes are like some of those Caribbean islands for humans. No way for them to get infected.

JACK HOLDEN: Didn't we wade through a river? Well, that's... that's creepy. Zombie fish? Ugh!

EUGENE WOODS: [laughs] I didn't even have to try hard.

JACK HOLDEN: What? Oh! Oh, ha ha.

EUGENE WOODS: This next track's for all our zombie fish listeners, or any zoms just sitting down to their afternoon tea.

JACK HOLDEN: Songs with Christmas in the title... go!

EUGENE WOODS: "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas."

JACK HOLDEN: "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

EUGENE WOODS: "Do They Know It's Christmas?"

JACK HOLDEN: "Last Christmas."

EUGENE WOODS: Uh... "All I Want For Christmas Is You!"

JACK HOLDEN: "Lonely This Christmas."

EUGENE WOODS: Oh no, hang on...

JACK HOLDEN: "I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day." "Christmas Time (Don't Let The Bells End." "Wombling Merry Christmas."

EUGENE WOODS: Now you're making these up!

JACK HOLDEN: "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree." "Mister Hanky, the Christmas Poo," "Christmas Alphabet," "The Gift of Christmas"...

EUGENE WOODS: Hang on.

JACK HOLDEN: What?

EUGENE WOODS: Show me.

JACK HOLDEN: No, show you what?

EUGENE WOODS: You've got them written on your hand! Did you just Rofflenet these? The only person you're cheating, mister, is yourself.

JACK HOLDEN: "Father Christmas, Do Not Touch Me." [snorts]

EUGENE WOODS: No, that's not real.

JACK HOLDEN: It's by The Goodies. [laughs] Shall we do presents live on air tomorrow?

EUGENE WOODS: Oh! Uh, yeah, awesome.

JACK HOLDEN: I love Christmas!

EUGENE WOODS: All right, all right.

JACK HOLDEN: Open it. Ladies and gentlemen and runners, it is Christmas Day, and we thought we'd open our presents live on air.

EUGENE WOODS: Well, you thought.

JACK HOLDEN: Have you not opened it yet?

[wrapping paper rustles]

EUGENE WOODS: Thanks, Jack!

JACK HOLDEN: It's a Fawlty Towers DVD! I got him a Fawlty Towers DVD.

EUGENE WOODS: Thank you so much, Jack. Where'd you get it?

JACK HOLDEN: You see, when Eugene was sent to the UK, one of the sub-eds gave him a whole load of British comedy DVDs to watch on those lonely hotel nights, and his favorite was -

EUGENE WOODS: Fawlty Towers! Thanks, that's really great.

JACK HOLDEN: So, what did you get me?

EUGENE WOODS: Uh, let's not do this now, let's do it during a track.

JACK HOLDEN: No, come on. On-air is more fun.

EUGENE WOODS: Right.

JACK HOLDEN: Ooh, it's heavy. Quite heavy. Oh, I'm just going to do it. [wrapping paper rustles] It's a brick. In a sock.

EUGENE WOODS: For the zombies, if they get close. You swing it!

JACK HOLDEN: A brick.

EUGENE WOODS: In a sock!

JACK HOLDEN: Thanks.

EUGENE WOODS: I'm sorry. I didn't realize we were doing presents until yesterday. You know, with the apocalypse...

JACK HOLDEN: Just play a track.

JACK HOLDEN: So we're not -

EUGENE WOODS: We're just going to -

JACK HOLDEN: - play some tracks today, let you enjoy some quality tunes.

EUGENE WOODS: The problem with New Year's Eve in the apocalypse is that everyone's aware that it could be their last New Year's Eve.

JACK HOLDEN: Play the track.

EUGENE WOODS: Ugh.

#zombies run #zrs2 #s2 radio #s2 radio part 5 #zr transcript

[lotsofdogs]

The Great Big Postpartum Post

Today’s blog post has been a long time coming! Well, I guess it hasn’t been brewing for that long considering Ryder is just now 8 weeks old but it has taken me a lot longer to find the time to sit down and type up everything about this postpartum period than I anticipated.

I’ve actually been working on bits and pieces of this post for weeks and thought about breaking it up but decided against it so everything is in one place. Today’s post touches on everything from Ryder and breastfeeding to newborn sleep and the transition into life with two children. Brace yourselves because you guys are getting a VERY wordy post comin’ at you today!

Ryder

Oh Ryder! My sweet little boy! Ryder is such a gift in our lives and I absolutely love being his mother.

I don’t quite know how to put the way I feel about this little guy into words but he has a personality that feels almost calming to me which I know sounds crazy but there’s something about the way he locks eyes with everyone as he coos away that makes me feel like he’s going to be an introspective and thoughtful little boy. We all say he seems older than his 8 weeks somehow and I cannot wait to watch his personality develop and unfold as time goes on.

As far as babies go, he’s pretty darn easygoing and as Ryan likes to say, “He’s a good baby… but he’s still a baby,” which I think perfectly sums things up around here. It’s basically our way of saying he’s not too challenging but newborns are never a cakewalk! Ryder is admittedly an easier baby than our first (I hate to compare but I think it’s only natural for those with two kids to admit that all babies are different and some are easier than others) and Ryder truly feels like an angel baby to me because most of the time he’s just so content.

He loves to kick and coo and look at lights and fans and faces. High-pitched baby talk works wonders with Ryder and brings about the cutest little expressions that seem to showcase 5,000 emotions in 2.5 seconds. He’ll look at us with a big, gummy smile that will morph into a skeptical look that will quickly morph into a judgmental baby face and I’m trying to soak them all up!

It’s so neat to see Ryder’s personality develop right before my eyes and the past few weeks have brought about tons of smiles, gurgles and sweet baby chirps and coos that I just adore. He loves people and will lock eyes and stare at anyone and everyone who meets him.

Ryder is out of all of his newborn clothes and into 0-3 month and some 3 month clothing already. When he was born, I thought we lucked out and would be able to reuse all of Chase’s old clothes since they both have summer birthdays but I am beginning to wonder if Ryder’s size might not make this a possibility!

I love his squishy thighs, the milky bubbles he blows, the way his gummy smile creeps into his eyes and overtakes his whole face, his fluffy mohawk and the way he’ll come off my chest after nursing and give me the cutest little flirty smiles. It melts me every time and I am so grateful for this little boy.

Breastfeeding

Breastfeeding admittedly got off to a bit of a stressful start. When we were in the hospital and I attempted to nurse Ryder for the first time, he latched well but would only take one or two powerful sucks before coming off my breast. We now realize this was likely because he couldn’t breathe well while nursing. Once he was admitted to the NICU, I spent the next few days setting alarms and exclusively pumping which resulted in some incredibly sore nipples and stressed me out because after my first pump, I was pumping next to nothing or nothing at all. I was assured that this was normal and encouraged to continue pumping.

During this experience and also in hindsight, I felt incredibly grateful that I was a second-time mom because I cannot imagine how much more stressed I would’ve felt to have to learn how to pump immediately and then try to navigate nursing for the first time. I also know I am very, very lucky that our NICU stay was relatively short and I was able to nurse Ryder after a few days. I know this is not the case for many and I will always feel so grateful for everything.

Once my milk came in and I was able to nurse Ryder, breastfeeding improved dramatically. I felt my uterus begin to cramp, my bleeding increased and my body seemed to physically respond to nursing Ryder in the most incredible way.

Nursing Ryder in the beginning was a very different experience from learning to breastfeed Chase. It’s truthfully been much, much easier this time. I think this has a lot to do with the fact that Chase had a tongue tie that resulted in bleeding, scabbing and a lot of pain and I needed to use nipple cream like it was my job. I remember dreading the moment Chase would need to latch again because it would hurt so much until he had his frenulum clipped. Another thing I believe has contributed to an easier experience this time around is the simple fact that this is my second time breastfeeding. I truly believe nursing Chase for 15 months permanently changed my nipples and paved the way for Ryder a bit. Is that weird? Unfounded? Maybe! But whatever it is, I’ll take it!

Ryder is nursing well and seems to be a very efficient eater. He rarely wants to nurse for an extended period of time but he definitely wants to nurse often. I am nursing on demand at the moment which means that some days I feel like all I do is nurse, especially when Ryder wants to snack or cluster feed all day long. Ryder will often stay latched well for several minutes but then he likes to come on and off my breast and intersperse nursing with looking at me or looking around the room and cooing. This will often result in a very messy and milky nursing experience (my breasts will often spray milk or drip milk when he breaks his latch), so we’re going through a lot of milk-soaked burp cloths and blankets over here right now.

One obstacle that surfaced for the first few weeks of Ryder’s life that was somewhat related to breastfeeding was a pretty horrible diaper rash. His poor little booty was so red and he had little bloody sores on his bottom. The pediatrician had my breast milk tested to see if Ryder might have a milk protein allergy but everything came back normal. His diaper rash cleared up dramatically around 6 weeks and I think a HUGE part of this was the fact that Ryder started pooping less and his butt finally had time to recover between poops.

In the interim, we did a lot of naked baby time to give his butt a chance to breathe in between diaper changes and tried a bunch of diaper rash remedies, creams and oils. Most diaper rash remedies didn’t work well for Ryder (even a prescription cream) but Triple Paste seemed to work the best for him and we went through that stuff like it was going out of style!

Sleeping

My expectations for newborn sleep were really, really low. Chase was up nearly every two hours for feedings for well over a month or two and when I looked back on my monthly update posts for Chase, I saw that he was still waking up at least two times a night at 4-5 months old. This is what I was expecting from Ryder so I cannot tell you how incredible it has been to have a child who seems to sleep well. It’s pretty darn amazing. But I say this in the same breath that I say we are doing NOTHING different this time around with Ryder so if you have a baby that is a horrible sleeper, you’re doing a GREAT job and you’re doing nothing wrong. I feel you. Chase’s sleep was rough but in the beginning I had no point of comparison and thought all babies woke up a million times a night. (In this instance my naivety as a new mom worked as a benefit for me.)

Once I started to realize some babies were, in fact, sleeping through the night when we were still up all the time with Chase, I began reading baby sleep books which mostly made me feel like a big fat failure. As a second-time mom, I now realize some babies are just better sleepers and some parents just get really lucky. That’s not to say following sleep training techniques and implementing schedules doesn’t work for babies — I think they totally DO! — but babies are so different and as someone who has had a baby who was a pretty awful sleeper and someone who has a baby who seems to be a naturally good sleeper, I just feel like that’s an important thing to say to any moms out there who might be reading this post with bags under their eyes after months of horrible sleep. You’re doing great and it will get better! That’s something I also carry with me this time around — bad sleep DOES come to an end and it happens faster than you might think. Understanding that all of the baby struggles are temporary somehow makes it easier this time, too.

In the beginning, Ryder was up every three(ish) hours in the night. Some nights were filled with more frequent feedings but as the weeks went on, the time between Ryder’s feedings stretched out more and more. Right now I typically feed him before we go to bed between 8 and 9 p.m. Ryder will then typically wake up between midnight and 2 a.m. and again around 4 or 5 a.m. The fact that I am usually getting at least one solid 4-5 hour stretch of sleep between nursing sessions feels like an incredible gift and has been a huge help when it comes to my energy level every day. We’ve even had a few nights where Ryder skips his middle-of-the-night feed and wakes up to nurse for the first time between 4 and 5 a.m. (I pretty much wanted to high-five everyone I saw the next day after those nights!)

Of course some nights are still rough around here — just last night I found myself pacing around our room and rocking him from 2:30-3:30 a.m. — and I admittedly found myself throwing a dirty diaper in the washing machine last week because I was so out of it but, on the whole, I am counting my blessings in the newborn sleep department at the moment.

Physical Recovery and Changes

My physical recovery from this pregnancy has honestly been pretty good. Labor was fast and my delivery was pretty easy (thank you, epidural) and I only needed two stitches so I wasn’t too sore for too long. I continued to bleed and experience some serious postpartum night sweats up until around 5 weeks postpartum.

I started walking for exercise (and sanity!) when Ryder was about a week and a half old. I kept my pace nice and easy and gradually worked up to walking three(ish) miles almost every day. I feel really good now and just started to return to boot camp classes this week.

I am definitely easing into fitness and currently modifying my workouts quite a bit. After I received the okay from my doctor at my 6-week postpartum checkup, I began doing some moderate strength training in our garage but only a few days and every workout left me feeling so sore!

From an aesthetic standpoint, I’m softer everywhere and the cellulite is REAL over here but I’m not really focused on that right now. I’m not weighing myself regularly (I didn’t before I got pregnant and don’t plan to start now) but I hopped on the scale for the sake of this post and saw I’m up about 12-15 pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight. I know from my experience with Chase that the final 10-15 pounds of pregnancy weight gain took the longest to lose and it took me a solid 9 months to lose it all after my first pregnancy.

My plan for postpartum weight loss is the same this time around: I plan to focus on being as healthy as I can, work out regularly to make myself feel strong (mentally and physically) and trust that my body will do what is best. Breastfeeding is a priority for me and along with nursing comes ridiculous hunger so I feel like I’m an eating machine and I wouldn’t want to mess with anything that could effect my milk supply.

I say all of this in one breath but I don’t want to mislead anyone into thinking I’m completely confident with my postpartum body. I feel secure in my body and so grateful for what it has done but getting dressed feels awkward since I’m in a weird transition stage where maternity stuff doesn’t really work and my regular clothes all cling to my body and feel too small. I am just not dwelling on my physical appearance and I am trying to put my focus where it matters — on my two boys — and remind myself that my body just did something amazing and it should look different right now.

Despite what the media and social media portrays, I know it’s not realistic to look like I didn’t just give birth 8 weeks after our baby arrived so I’m trying my best to embrace the softness, cellulite and body changes and focus on the incredible reason my body looks different. It just produced a HUMAN and that’s pretty freaking incredible!

Transition to Two Children

In today’s post I’m focusing on how I’m personally handling the transition into life with two kids but you may read more about how big brother Chase is handling the transition in Chase’s Three Year Update. 

To be completely honest, the hardest part about this postpartum period has been the transition from one child to two. This is not because Chase is acting out or we have a colicky baby or anything dramatic but simply juggling two children is very, very different than one baby. There’s basically NO downtime and every day feels a bit chaotic right now.

When Chase was a baby, I could count on his nap time to work but now I can count on one hand the number of times Chase and Ryder’s naps have coincided which means I am constantly feeling behind on everything. I cannot blog or get work done nearly as often as I used to and our house rarely looks clean but I know this is a season and I’m trying to embrace this time as best as possible.

Possibly the biggest blessing in this postpartum transition period was having my mom here to help after Ryder was born. So many fellow moms encouraged me to accept help during this time and I’m so, so glad I did even if my first inclination was to say, “I’ve got this!”

My mom mostly helped with Chase after Ryder was born which is exactly what we wanted and needed most. Ryan got one week of paternity leave so his time off was all used up while we were still in the hospital with Ryder. Having my mom’s help during this time and right after Ryan went back to work was so incredible and absolutely helped with the transition. Her help made a huge difference to me during the first couple of weeks with two kids and I know how lucky we were to have her here!

When Ryder “woke up” (aka was no longer sleeping all day every day), I had quite a few meltdown days. Seemingly overnight, Ryder needed more attention and soothing to be content and on the days when Chase wouldn’t nap or didn’t nap well, he’d often be in a serious MOOD by 4 p.m. Let’s just say the hours from 4 p.m. until bedtime often felt (and can feel) like an eternity. This is the time of day that is still the most challenging for us and it can feel really long and draining some days since it’s typically the time of day when Ryder seems the most hands-on (they call it the “witching hour” for a reason!) and, depending on his mood, Chase can be needier and whinier than usual.

Ryan often doesn’t arrive home from work until after 7 p.m. (this isn’t a complaint, just a reality) and there have been more than a few days that he’ll arrive home to me telling him I just want to face-plant into bed. (Side note: My back often feels totally destroyed by the end of the day from all the rocking, bouncing and soothing. I don’t remember this happening with Chase but the pain I feel in my mid/upper back is killer at the end of some of the rougher days! Has this happened to any of you!?)

As far as the impact of two kids on our marriage, all is well over here but in full transparency our time to really connect as a couple feels rather limited on a daily basis. I swear an entire week can easily go by where I feel like I’ve barely talked to my husband! By the time Ryan is home from work and we tackle the bedtime routine, the only thing I want to do is go to sleep and since we both seem to fall asleep the minute Ryder goes down for the night, it can be a little challenging to get that one-on-one time to talk and connect. We’re trying our best but many times during the week our conversations feel fragmented by bursts of one child needing this or that or family playtime. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love building airplanes or playing dragons with Chase, Ryder and Ryan but playing dragons with my husband is very different from actual adult communication!

It’s more clear than ever to me that we need to be intentional in our time together as a couple and we’re slowly getting into a better rhythm. I’m not quite ready to schedule a date night and leave Ryder with a babysitter (I still need to pump and get him used to taking a bottle again) but hopefully that isn’t too far off! In the meantime, we’re doing our best to keep communication open, acknowledge our feelings and lean on each other even if we’re not getting as much couple time as usual these days! Thankfully we both seem to understand that this time with a newborn is so fleeting and we are just trying to go with the flow and be great parents and great spouses even though the parenting role admittedly — and understandably — seems to be taking the front seat at the moment.

Sooo there you have it! A bazillion words and way more than you guys all probably cared to know about this postpartum period! I will likely do a followup post to this one in the coming weeks much like I did after Chase was born to address any lingering questions, so please let me know if there’s anything you’d like me to touch on that I may have missed! And if you made it to the end of this post, thank you so much for reading about this special and crazy time in our lives!

[Read More ...] https://www.pbfingers.com/the-great-big-postpartum-post/

#health #fitness