#why am i even online i have a high fever

[money-and-dandellions]

what if in the tyrants tomb Lester would get scratched not in the abdomen but somewhere on his face

like his chin or cheek or somewhere much more visible (not an eye cause um; I am sure he would lose it)

and after that the infection seems much more terrifying and is hard to bandage properly and neatly and he cannot really effectively cover it (he tried but it is too visible; and the long-sleeved t-shirt could be just like 'oh he cold it's fine' because April is still quite a chill month) so when the virus gets worse it is visible

#toa #lester papadopoulos #the tyrants tomb #OOH ANGST PAIN HURT/COMFORT hahahah #why am i even online i have a high fever

[rhoorl]

Just a sappy year-end post you can continue scrolling lol…

I’ve written and rewritten this so many times over the past week. The words were failing me on how to sum up this year, so instead here’s a long-winded stream of consciousness:

There are so many things that now have a new meaning for me thanks to the last nine months.

Sequins. Donuts. Ties. Mirrors. Belt buckles. Snakes. Holsters. Back Alleys. Bakeries. Pickles. Landscaping. Gray sweatpants. Honestly, the list goes on.

At the start of 2023, I was soooo excited to watch The Last of Us. I was a fan of Pedro and Mr. Rhoorl was a huge fan of the game so it was like a win-win and something for us to watch together. Little did I know how much that show and Pedro’s subsequent SNL appearance would change the rest of my year.

I still laugh when I think about how long I spent lurking on the Pedro subreddit before I said anything. But little by little, my upvotes turned into me leaving comments and those comments led to me finding some pretty awesome people. Especially those who encouraged me when I threw out a random comment about how I was thinking of writing a fic of my own after consuming so many stories and feeling inspired (I read my first fanfic in March of this year!). 

I remember going to the movies one day in the summer. I arrived early (taking solace in having some peace and quiet) and as I sat waiting for the trailers to start, I typed up the skeleton of the Working Title plot on my phone. Fast forward to impulsively creating a Tumblr account and feeling like the eldest millennial ever hoping I wouldn’t get laughed out of the room as I tried navigating this site and interacting with people and their posts.

Then a few weeks later, I was reading one of my favorite series (The Layover) and got this idea about an AU where the Triple Frontier boys start a landscaping business. I was so scared to message Megan about it, hoping she wouldn’t think I was completely nuts (well, maybe she does). I’m so happy I took that deep breath and hit send on that message. It was an uncharacteristic move for me, normally I’d just think ha that’s a funny idea and keep it to myself. But so much of the summer was pushing myself out of my comfort zone so I thought, why not?

Speaking of taking a deep breath and hitting send…who knew that the idea of hosting an online watch party would bring so many amazing people into my life? It all feels like a fever dream sometimes with how it all came together and I’m not sure how everything fell into place but grateful doesn’t even begin to express how it makes me feel. 

I’ll spare you the story since this is getting long, but this year had many highs and many lows. And what really helped me a lot during these lows was a lot of you reading this. Thank you for the encouragement, the laughs, and the shoulders to cry on during those low days, along with the silly graphics and gifs that made me smile (or gave me thots). I’m a pretty reserved and closed-off person away from here, but this year I decided to get out of my comfort zone a bit and just … try.

I know I'll probably never meet Pedro (except in my dreams), but damn if I did ever meet him I would love to say thank you. Thank you for putting so much heart and soul into your performances. Thank you for inspiring creativity in me that I didn't think was there anymore and for inspiring others to bear their souls out onto the internet by way of amazing, heartfelt, and thot-tastic stories. Thank you for giving me a reason to meet people from literally all over the world. This place feels like a playground sometimes with friendships striking up in the simplest ways, like “Hey you like Pedro/this character/this very specific photoshoot/this gif? Cool, me too let’s be friends.” I am so thankful to have made some true connections and friends here that I otherwise would not have met. 

(And finally, because I'm me, I’d thank Pedro for being so broad and having amazing hair…ok I wouldn’t actually say that because I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to form a sentence but dammit I would be thinking it that’s for sure!)

So to sum up, this year has been one of growth, of taking deep breaths, of silencing the little voice in my head, and hitting send, or post, or reblog. It doesn’t always work, but when it does, it’s magic. 

If you made it this far, thank you. I’ve gone through a few tissues writing this so I’m going to wrap things up. I don’t really have a profound way to end this rambling other than to say I’m here if you ever want to pop by and say hello or yell about the latest Pedro photo. I know there’s a lot of discourse on here from time to time about various pockets/groups but I feel pretty lucky to have landed in a corner of this site that is supportive and full of love. There’s plenty of room around the table for us all and I wholeheartedly believe in community over competition. I can’t wait to see what 2024 brings.

xoxo  Jess

P.S. At what point do we test the Emergency Alert System ahead of Gladiator 2? I’m going to need a wellness check.

Pedro tax for your troubles:

#tw: long post #tw: personal #year in review

[cataboliiicseed]

HELLO please tell me about your cd collection?? i would love to hear about it genuinely

HAIII BELL!!! i am more than happy to talk about my cds!!!

i included pics of my current collection 🕺!

i’ve been collecting them most of my life. i got given a cd player at a young age which is why i started collecting. as a kid it was mostly so fresh & now hits of summer cds that are still somewhere in the house (also alvin & the chipmunks).

these days i collect them because my car is old and doesn’t have aux or bluetooth so cds and the radio get me through. i’ve included pics of my glovebox, the ones that live in a bag cause i have too many to fit in said glovebox & my current listen. i’ll just list them as they appear and where i got them from!!

gorillaz, the now now- bought first hand. at the time i was listening to it almost daily

gorillaz, demon days- actually belongs to my sister. she doesn’t have a cd player so it judt lives in my car for when we go on drives

twenty one pilots, trench- a gift for my birthday last year. i have most of tøps discography and i was obsessed with it when it released (saw them in concert & everything)

my chemical romance, the black parade- found this one in an op shop. there’s a few i got at the same time, some emo must’ve donated their collection in one go. love this album its one i listen to a lot

panic! at the disco, a fever you cant sweat out- also found in the op shop haul!

panic! at the disco, pretty odd- another op shop haul find. i didn’t listen to this album a load back then compared to the rest of their stuff but its one of my faves now

my chemical romance, three cheers for sweet revenge- shocking news, found this in the op shop haul!

bastille, all this bad blood- at some point during my teens i spend my pocket money on this. definitely glad i still have it, there’s so much music on that album & i still love bastille

twenty one pilots, blurryface- another one i spent my pocket money on!!

twenty one pilots, vessel- another pocket money purchase

fall out boy, folie à deux- found in the op shop haul. didn’t even listen to this album at the time & i forgot i had it until way after i fixated on it and then went through my collection again

fall out boy, infinity on high- another op shop find, very fun find!! was a fave at the time

fall out boy, american beauty/american psycho- op shop haul find!!

fall out boy, save rock and roll- op shop haul find!!!

my chemical romance, danger days- my brother found this one in an op shop for me

will wood and the tapeworms, everything is a lot- bought this one online when he dropped the last of the original pressings a few years back. its signed but the signature is rubbing off a bit

will wood, in case i make it- i got this one when i backed the album when he was fundraising for it

the libertines, up the bracket- i think my mum gave this to me, i’ve never listened to it lol

janelle monáe, the archandroid- dad gave this to me. one of my favourite albums of all time

sara bareilles, whats inside: songs from waitress- this was a pocket money buy. i think i bought this before i actually listened to the waitress musical? so it was my introduction to it and then waitress was what made me fall in love with musical theatre

the hush sound, like vines- found this in a record shop. was very excited, i was playing one of their songs on repeat at the time

pulp, different class- mum gave me this one as well

the breeders, cannonball- my dad got it for my brother who didn’t want it and i slid in like hi, yes i love the breeders, this is mine bye.

troye sivan, wild- a pocket money buy. i really wanted blue neighbourhood but they only had this ep so its what i got

sara bareilles, the blessed unrest- another pocket money buy, i had a huge sara bareilles phase at some point in highschool

the scary jokes, retinal bloom- bought this one in one of the packs when the album was about to be dropped. gawd i love the scary jokes

the scary jokes, burn pygmion!!! a better guide to romance- what i listened to todayyy. probably my number one album ever this was a christmas gift!!

theres two fob cds i skipped cause they’re just a compilation & cd that all the songs on are on my other cds.

theres so many more that have come and left my collection but this is where its at now and i can’t waiiiit to find more!! especially w my damn car. NOW TELL ME ABOUT YOURS (please ^3^!)

#ren rambles #music collections #cds

[ironmanfridgemagnet]

One Doodle That Can't Be Undid Homeskillet

Jonah Simms x Reader ,, Garrett McNeill x Reader (Platonic)

"I was thinking like jonah and garrets bestie reader gets heavy baby fever after Cheyenne gives birth and she just tells them both "i want a baby too" and they brush it off thinking she isnt serious but then she keeps mentioning it and then one of them sits her down and asks if that's what she really wants and then reader gets pregnant and she is so happy!"

Word count: 1.9k

Requested by Anon <3

————————————————————————

"I want a baby." You whined, stacking toilet paper with Jonah into a large pyramid shape. Though it wasn't the way Cloud 9 policy recommended, you had found it to be far more stable and efficient.

"You what? Why are you telling me this?" Jonah asked, looking up at you from where he was crouched down, reaching into the box of toilet paper and passing them up to you one at a time.

"It's just, Harmonica is so cute. I want a cute, little baby. Not any time soon at least; just seeing Cheyenne with such a precious baby in her arms, made me want one." You explained, carefully placing the toilet rolls Jonah passed to you onto the pyramid, making sure the display didn't topple over as you stacked it high.

"Hmm. Sounds like baby fever." Garrett suggested, suddenly appearing behind you, startling you so that you pushed too hard against the toilet paper pyramid and sending it crashing to the ground. With a deep sigh, you bent down, picking up as many rolls as you could and beginning to rebuild the display.

"It's a real thing." Jonah added, helping you to rebuild the structure so that you could move on sooner rather than later to something else you needed to do within the store. "I read an article about it. Typically, when men and women come into contact with babies the influx of emotions from being around a it can spark their instincts to reproduce."

"When you say it like that J, all science-y, it sounds less appealing." You and Garret let out short laughs, unsurprised by Jonah's all-knowing ability to come in useful on even the most mundane of topics.

"Where'd you even read that? Twitter?" Garrett teased, knowing that Jonah had a tendency to regurgitate everything and anything he read online into one conversation or another. "The times?"

"Actually, discover magazine." Jonah quipped, happy that Garrett hadn't been able to call out the super he had got his information from this time. Stacking the final tier of toilet paper, you took a step back, taking in your hard-worked display in all its glory.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm sure it'll pass." You hummed idly to yourself, adjusting one of the parts of toilet roll, before stepping back and finally being happy with how the display looked. "Anyone want to split a pizza for lunch?"

"I'm down."

————————————————————————

Oh how wrong you were. The 'baby fever' as your boys had dubbed it, didn't pass. In fact, it seemed to grow stronger and stronger with every day that passed.

"I don't get why you want a crying, screaming, pooping baby y/n. Babies are hard work." Amy slouched down into her seat, her eyes fighting to stay open as she blew on her cup of coffee, hoping to cool it slightly.

"Ames." You whined, stirring your sweetener into your morning coffee absentmindedly. "I was hoping you'd understand. Have you never sat there and though 'I really want a baby'?"

"Well, of course!" She cheered, encouraging your dwindling thoughts once more, sparking a whirlwind that consumed your mind. "But then I had them - and as much as I love them, some days, you find it so hard you question if it was all worth it. And it is - It's just hard."

"Very insightful Ames." You chided, taking a long sip of you still-warm drink, looking at Amy across the brim of your mug. "But I'm still not convinced."

"Well, I can't say I tried." Amy laughed, rolling her eyes at your antics - of course once you'd set your mind on something, you'd not back down. You were stubborn yet determined, sometimes to a fault, but it's something she often admired in you; you didn't back down from what you wanted.

————————————————————————

"You think she's still serious about this? The whole baby thing?" Garrett asked, leaning closer to Jonah so he could hear him as they watched you stocking childcare; every bottle and blanket you picked up being handled with the upmost care.

It had been weeks since your conversation with Amy and months since Harmonica had been born, and the 'baby fever' you had claimed would pass, seemed more prevalent then ever. Jonah had since deemed that you were serious about having a baby - whether you had come to terms with it or not yourself - but Garrett wasn't quite convinced.

"I'm telling you, if she's not pregnant yet, she will be. She's not stopped fawning over babies and everything about them since Harmonica was born." Jonah explained, though Garrett just scoffed at the thought, he couldn't imagine you still being hung up on something so small. Not for this long anyway. "Look watch this. Hey y/n!"

Jonah walked over to you, picking up a pale yellow pair of soft, cotton dungarees - covered in tiny embroidered daisies and with white, heart shaped buttons. "Isn't this the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

"It's beautiful J." You replied, reaching out to feel the material of the tiny outfit between your fingertips. "Soft too."

"It would look so cute on a little one. One with your eyes as well; it would really make them pop." Jonah complimented, his eyes flickering between you and Garrett - as though to tell him that he was right.

"You really think so?" you fawned over Jonah's words, gently pulling the material from his hands and running your fingers along the stitching. After realising that you'd spent just a moment too long looking at the clothes, you shoved it back onto the rack, becoming slightly flustered. "I've got to go."

Leaving Jonah and Garrett behind to finish what you should've stocked, you rushed off into the store, slightly embarrassed by your infatuation with the outfit and how clearly you'd shown that to Jonah and Garrett.

You would get over your 'baby fever' you were sure of it.

————————————————————————

"This feels like an interrogation." You muttered, sipping on the milkshake Jonah had bought for you at you and Garrett's insistence.

"Pretty much is." Garrett confirmed, taking a bite into his grilled cheese that he had bought from the stores deli, against the idea of using his lunch break to ask you about your 'baby fever.'

"Well, we just want you to know that we love you and want what's best for you." Jonah began, your face palling slightly at the seriousness of his words; had something happened? Did they know something you didn't? Of all the things running through your mind, you hadn't thought of what they'd decided was important enough to bring up. "And if that's you wanting a baby, we'll be their to support it."

"He will. I said nothing about supporting a baby." At Jonah's sharp look, Garrett held up his hands defensively. "I'm joking, I will support you doll."

"Just not financially."

"What he means," Jonah continued harshly, unamused by Garrett's usually charming, comedic tone - though you and Garrett stifled quite giggles at his words. "Is that no matter what you decide, we will support that. If the 'baby fever' passes or if it doesn't. We'll be there."

It was sweet - the sentiment of it and all - but even you weren't clear on if you wanted a baby or not. Sure, you thought they were cute and whenever you saw one, you wished you had one to call your own, but, there was so much more to having a baby then just that.

"Thank you." You replied, though it sounded more of a question then a genuine thanks: Garret sending Jonah an 'I knew I was right' look at the uncertainty in your words.

Silence settled among the three of you, no one knowing where to begin at the odd tension that had formed after Jonah's very serious declaration of support.

"This is a good milkshake." You mused, swirling the pink liquid around with your straw that was beginning to become soggy at how long it had remained in the drink. "Thanks J."

It was more then just a thanks for the milkshake though, and deep down you both knew it.

————————————————————————

When the two pink lines glared back at you, the colour was far too vibrant then it should've been.

You hadn't been expecting that.

Having downed three cartons of 'Sunny D,' and having peed on 4 pregnancy tests, you knew this was one doodle that couldn't be undone - no matter how much you shook the plastic stick, the lines never faded or went away.

Though you didn't feel sad, or scared, you felt rather happy at the discovery. Perhaps your 'baby fever' would never fade away; but you were beginning to think you were actually okay with that.

And three months later, a small bump beginning to form, you were certain you couldn't hide it any longer.

Looking into the mirror, a ghost of a smile settled on your face - one that had permanently seemed to remain there since your discovery, and one that made you glow with radiance wherever you went. Your hand rested on the bump lovingly, admiring how different and yet the same you looked with it. You could get used to this.

Finally feeling as though you were far enough along to start sharing your secret, you decided today would be the day you'd tell Jonah and Garrett - knowing, as they'd previously made it clear, you would have their unconditional support.

You couldn't wait to tell them.

————————————————————————

"So." You began, shifting about in your seat, your usual coffee switched out for its decaf version instead, you prepared yourself to share the news. "I've got something to tell you. Or rather, show you."

"Is it another one of those cat memes? 'Cause I don't think I can take another." Garrett groaned, Jonah rolling his eyes and declaring he liked them and wanted more if it were possible.

"No, no. It's a big bigger then cat memes. In fact it's probably as big as a plum." Pulling out the small, black and white photo from your pocket, you unfolded it, sliding it across the table in front of the two boys. Your two boys.

Without words, Jonah stood from his seat, walking around the table and pulling you up into his embrace and rocking the two of you from side to side. "Holy shit y/n! I'm so happy for you!"

Pulling back to look at Jonah, you saw a wide and bright smile consuming his face, much like the one you imagined was on your own face, and his eyes crinkled half-shut. A laugh bubbles from your throat, relishing in the happy moment shared between the three of you: they knew this was what you wanted, and you knew that they'd be there for you no matter what.

"That things inside of you?" Garrett groaned, focused solely on the ultrasound you had placed in front of you.

"Yep." You replied, smile not leaving your face despite Garrett's disgust of babies, not specifically the one inside of you, just all of them. "And in about 6 months, that thing will come out of me."

"Gross." Garrett scoffed, though a smile soon settled on his face. "It's got your nose"

————————————————————————

Hey Anon!! Thank you so much for the request, I had a lot of fun writing this concept.

Any more requests, just let me know!!

As always, have a lovely week!!<33

#superstore x reader #cloud 9 #superstore imagine #jonah simms x reader #jonah simms imagine #superstore garret imagine #superstore garret x reader #garret mcneill x reader #garret mcneill #garrett mcneill #superstore jonah x reader #superstore jonah imagine

[plogieplogie]

Long ass post about my flop ass morning 👎

First day of "work" today. Slowly realized throughout those two hours that this was less of a job and more just a woman guiding me through tasks. It's like the training period of a job but after you're done training you don't work there anymore. I was exclusively referred to as this woman's "new student."

I felt very infantilized the whole time. I'm recovering from a fever but didn't want to miss any hours out of the very small amount I was offered. (I could have taken on a longer program but I honestly didn't really want to do this program in the first place so I opted for the 2 week 20 hour one.)

I thought I was very upfront, I met up with the woman and I told her that I was getting over a fever. She then asked me how my weekend was, saying the weather was great for going outside. I told her it was fine, since I didn't want to come across as rude.

She takes me to start a task that I don't understand why we're doing until an hour later when I piece it together that we're fulfilling an online order. My head has been very foggy, but I seriously can't remember her mentioning anything like that.

The moment when I realized "oh shit, this actually might suck" is when we're looking for a pair of jeans for the order, jeans have proven a difficult thing to find so she's been helping me look through the shelves. I find the right ones, but they're too high on the shelf for me to get them down. I have a sore throat, so it's a bit difficult to talk (and she isn't the converse with). Knowing that she's paying attention to me, I just say "oh!" and tap the jeans. She gets them down and says something like "that's something we'll work on together. When you see something you can't reach, you can ask me for help!" in that typical elementary teacher voice.

I've just become an adult and I haven't felt this much like a child in YEARS. I am not extra help for a busy time of year, I am a student learning how to "fit into society."

I was led to believe that this program was just to help disabled people pad out their resumes and get some experience under their belt before they start going into interviews. I even felt a little bad taking advantage of it, since I'm so high functioning. But I just felt so humiliated when it was over. I don't want to go back tomorrow. I don't even need the money, I'm gonna spend it all on merch and stupidly expensive shipping costs.

I live a very privileged life to where I probably won't need to work a job that I hate ever again. I thought trying out a retail job would be good for me. Get some humility under the ol' belt. But God, I just feel so shitty even a full 12 hours later. And I LIKE customer service! I LIKE filling out orders and checking lists! This woman just made me feel so worthless the entire time 😭

#vent

[metbul]

Covid-19 (02.12-09.12)

Last week was pretty stressful both at school and at home. Besides starting preparing for final exam next year, I'm also doing Edx and German online course. The first week of school was total full of squeezing my brain out, including weekend. The second week was also the same, plus there are two Indo boys just arrived not long ago...I think a month ago. We have same school block. At first I was being nice and trying to be helpful as they live in outskirt Rostock, the train departs only every two hours and I understand how that feels. I don't even understand why our company chose that housing for them.

Not only they have not German number yet, but also no German bank account. Well, they think I might can help them out and start asking some questions related to apartments, school, adjustment, etc.

One of them speaks like a broken stereo. One day he greeted me from the door of my class with high pitch voice in Indonesian. I was shocked und uncomfortable, moreover there are other students in the class. That was the beginning of me showing withdrawn behavior, though I try to be nice and polite. The other boy is still very young, 20ish and complaints pretty much which I understand totally. Later on ke kept chatting me on Whatsapp asking this and that non stop, asking to come by cause he still has many questions. At that time my mind was already full with tests and online course deadlines.

Well...in the end I couldn't hold it anymore and asked Novita to take a night walk. On the following day I started feeling unwell, so I took medicine after having breakfast and felt super sleepy during classes. Soaking myself in the bathtub didn't even help me much, I got out before the dizziness became stronger. In the evening my condition was worse. Headache, fever, sore throat, cough, shivering. I fell asleep at 6 PM and woke up at 4 AM on Friday. At that moment I was wondering if I could make it to the doctor and thank God I did it.

I didn't think much if it was Covid, my doctor recommended to do Antigen test at home and I wasn't even convinced to do that. On Saturday I decided to do Antigen test after Han Han suggested me to do so. Turn out yeaaaaa. I was pretty pissed. All of these 2,5 years I've been trying to be cautious because of my job and now out of the blue during school week I caught Covid-19. Yoooo.

The next few days were pretty awful and exhausting. There were no nights I didn't drink much and going back and forth to toilet and coughing. On Monday I contacted my Hausartz and the nurse sounded confused of what to do. Said she'd call me back in an hour and no call back. I called them back and no answer. 30 minutes later when I decided to go to other clinic which is 30 minutes away and more far, she finally called me and still sounded confused, and suddenly hanged up. I called back again and no answer. Sigh.

When I almost reached the second clinic, the nurse called me again and informed that I could come over and do PCR test. I couldn't complain more and said great. There was no point being mad at her because it's Covid and it's for other people safety, though I was disappointed at first because my two friends shared their experiences and their docs were being helpful. Don't tell me to go see their docs because that's not how German healthcare system works.

Finally the doctor did PCR test on me and I extended my sick certificate. I informed my classmates and they were being nice, my bosses are also being nice and understanding, my colleagues are being helpful, too.

I cannot forget how awful it was exactly a week ago. To be honest I was hesitant to tell my parents but nonetheless they are my family so they must know. I'm glad I was able to go through this shit alone and not losing the smell and taste. Today my Antigen test states negative. Yay!!

[bump1nthen1ght]

Sick Day (Demon x Reader)

Pairing: Gender Neutral Reader/ Non-Binary Demon

Genre: Urban fantasy, Domesticity, Established relationship

Warnings: Mentions of sickness (fevers, body chills, headaches), but nothing graphic

Word Count: 2008 words

Summary: Your demon partner isn’t sure how to play doctor

A/N: Based of this prompt by @monsterkinkmeme

“It’s the first time you’ve dated a demon and it’s also the first time you’ve gotten sick since you’ve been together. A fever paired with a throbbing headache has you hiding in bed for most of the day, trying to sleep whatever bug you caught, off. Your demon lover, on the other hand, is beside themselves and has turned to Google and WebMD on how best to take care of you. They now think you are dying because of your symptoms and are devising a way to save you.”

The minute I saw this prompt I was immediately awash with PINING for a large demon partner to cuddle with and I knew I had to write it.

A week after finals, 7 months into your relationship with Motholg, your immune system gives up.

You had been leaving work, thinking the heat in your cheeks and the ache in your bones was a product of a 6 hour shift, walking to Motholg’s apartment for date night. The past two week had you cooped up, anxious and studying, meaning you barely were able to make time for your partner.

You probably should have expected it, it’s happened every finals week since high school; A couple days into break you get a high fever and are stuck in your bed for a solid 48 hours. But you thought that, perhaps, this year was the exception. After nearly passing out when handing Motholg their fresh-made lasagna, you knew you weren’t so lucky.

“Darling?”

You groan from your blanket burrito, eyes and sweaty forehead barely peeking into the dim light of Motholg’s bedroom. The thought of forming a coherent thought makes your brain pound, so you don’t even try.

“I’ve made you some...uh…”

The door creaks open, Motholg automatically ducking their head so their long horns don’t hit the frame. Their red, slitted eyes narrow at something steaming in a teacup. “Yas-mine? Jasmeen? Uh-some herbal remedy I ordered from your virtual shopkeep. It was touted by several women named “Brenda” to  be the best thing for human illnesses.” Motholg’s hooves tap against the floor, just below the line of “too loud” for your migraine. You give another non-committal hum as they sit down on the bed. Despite being custom-made for their 7-foot stature, the bedframe still creaks under their weight. The top of your blanket sarcophagus is pulled back, revealing your disgruntled face.

Motholg helps you prop yourself up and hands you the teacup. You take a sip, quickly realizing it’s still quite hot, but power through anyway. The scalding water melts from your mouth down to your toes, abating your shivers, if only temporarily.

As you drink, Motholg’s fingers card through your messy hair, massaging your skull before resting their palm on your cheek. Their hand covers almost the entire side of your head, spotting a glimpse of a frown between their fingers.

“You’re even hotter than before and still quite sweaty. Would you like me to take the blankets?”

You shake your head, setting down your cup of tea.

“No, it’s probably just my fever breaking. It’s actually a good sign, despite how shitty I feel.” The warmth of your cocoon is beckoning you, your exposed chest and arms already shivering. “The blankets are good for my chills, but a big glass of ice water would be nice.”

Motholg raises an eyebrow, clearly perturbed by your backwards human symptoms. But they pat your head once more before sitting up.

“Of course, dear.” Motholg leans down to kiss your forehead, but is intercepted by the palm of your hand.

“Uh-uh, I don’t need you getting sick too.” Motholg scrunches up their face, then blows a raspberry into your skin. You retaliate by pushing away their face feebly.

“As if your human illness could fell me darling.” The sigh dramatically, pushing your hand away. “Though you are very sweet to think it could.”

You stick out your tongue and shove them. Motholg relents, blowing a kiss as they back out of the bedroom.

Your brain is beginning to drift into sleep when a glass clinks on the nightstand. Not bothering to open your eyes, far too tired, you mutter a “Thank you.” Motholg whispers a “You’re welcome,” as they lay on the bed once more. Their warm fur tickles your neck as they cuddle up behind you, arm thrown around your side and nuzzling their face into your hair. A hot breath and a slight nip of their extended canines only wills you to dreamland faster.

Motholg won’t go to sleep, only needing a full 8 hours every 4 days, but are rather content to lay beside you. They lovingly stroke your arm and sidle farther down under the comforter, whispering occasional sweet nothings and rocking you into unconsciousness.

--------

The dull red of the bedside clock pries open your eyes, a stark contrast compared to the pitchblack of the bedroom. Your brain is still in a fog, but given then the 3 AM flashing nearby, you’ve been asleep for about 9 hours.

And I’m about to sleep 9 more.

Motholg had left the bed at some point, but their warmth still lingers on the blankets. You close your eyes and snuggle in.

Slam!

But then the door slams open.

On a normal night, the noise might’ve jerked you upright , but your eyes simply roll over to the doorway. Your brain already misses unconsciousness.

Motholg stands, their new smartphone in hand as they breathe heavily.

“Darling, what did you say your body temperature was?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, slowly giving up on those peaceful 9 hours.

“99.7 last time I checked.” You tap your forehead with the back of your hand. “Probably less now. The sleep has been helping a lot. Good night.”

In an instant, Motholg is over to the bed, placing their hand on your forehead. You let out a disappointed sigh and try to go back to sleep anyways. The click of their hooves on hardwood, Motholg’s jittering shakes of your shoulder, and the strong smell of iron quickly eliminates that as a possibility.

You turn towards your partner, now noticing the sheen of liquid covering their hands. Red streaks follow their fingertips on their smartphone.

“Babe, why are your hands soaked in blood?”

“Goat’s blood, technically.”

Before you can even respond to that baffling answer, Motholg grabs your shoulder. The blood sticks to the short sleeves of your pajamas.

Damn, now I’ll have to wash this tomorrow.

“Here, it says the ritual-”

“The what?”

“-needs to be completed at 3:30 AM on a new moon.” Motholg pauses, checks their phone, then continues, “Yes, a new moon.”

Motholg begins to walk away, your arm still in their grip, but your resistance stalls them.

“Okay, Motholg, you’re scaring me. What’s going on? How the hell did you get goat’s blood at this hour?”

Motholg sighs and rolls their eyes, “Unimportant-”

You give Motholg a dissatisfied look, finally making them relent in heir tirade. They turn towards you.

“I fear for your life. I’ve consulted your online physician and your symptoms fall in line with many fatal illnesses.”

Now accepting that this is officially a conversation, you throw back your blankets and sit up.

“Do you mean WebMD?”

Motholg nods furiously and shows you their phone screen, tapping the glass with a long claw.

“See here? Full body chills are associated with pneumonia, so is a high fever. There’s also the possibility something is wrong with one of your organs. Not surprising, considering how squishy they are.” Motholg flicks their screen upward, a myriad of diagrams flips across it.

“Now, I know a couple of ceremonies my father used to perform to curse others with these illnesses, so I thought if I reversed the procedure-” Motholg pauses again, flipping to a new tab on their phone, “-So, I did some googling-”

Motholg pauses when your hand rests against their cheek. Their red eyes, which glow just slightly in the dark, look to you. You brush your thumb across their face, just barely grazing against the fur which starts at the base of their neck.

“Darling, I appreciate the concern really, I do. But these websites…” you pause, slowly pushing Motholg’s phone down and out of eyesight, “They really only show worst case scenarios. Honestly, they kind of just scare you into going to a doctor in person.”

Motholg’s eyes dart between your face and their phone, now pressed face down on their bed. They give off an aura of anxiety and stress, their hands fidgety and their hooves lightly tapping against the floor. “Here,” You pull up the covers, opening up the spot next to you. “Do you want to lie down with me for a while?”

“Oh, I don’t need to rest.”

“Just because your body doesn’t require it doesn't mean it won’t feel good. C’mon.” You pat the bed. “I think it will give you some peace of mind, keeping an eye on me.”

Motholg’s eyes shifted back to their phone, their brow furrowed. You pout your lips and slide your fingers up their chest. Their fur sticks and tussles under your touch.

“Babe, I would feel better if you relax, seriously.” You reach down to the bedside drawer, pulling out your sleep mask. “You can even bring your computer and get some work done.”

Hesitantly, they nod. You sigh in relief. Their hand unconsciously twirls your hair.

“I suppose….You would know about these things.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Motholg leaves to get their things, while you slip back under the covers. Before you put your sleep mask on, you shout to them.

“Make sure to wash that blood off!” You look down at your damp sleeve. “And could you get me a wet wipe as well?”

Motholg makes an affirmative noise, and you finally lay back and close your eyes.

Their body heat lingers above your as they sweetly wipe away the blood on your arm. You mutter a thank you. The bed dips as they down next to you, mattress bending as they adjust their laptop and fluff the pillows.

“Darling?”

“Hmmm?” You murmur, face still stuffed in your pillow.

“I just wanted to apologize for waking you. I feel very foolish for acting so paranoid.”

You flip your head to their side, keeping your mask on.

“No need to apologize, I get it.”

“Thank you for your understanding, but still, I feel so silly. To think a tiny sickness would force my emotions to overcome me.”

You slowly push up your mask, eyes peeking out from under the duvet. Motholg sheepishly picks at their keyboard, avoiding your eyes,

As disgruntled as it made you at first, Motholg’s droopy gaze stirred guilt in your gut. You wonder how many scenarios had run through their head while they googled, how helpless they must’ve felt. There might be a hole paced into the floor of the living room, given how flustered they were when they barged in.

You reach out to Motholg’s wrist, brushing your thumb over the back of their palm. Their red irises look over, and you think you see the tinies remnants of tear tracks at the corner of their eyes.

“Emotions aren’t a bad thing, they’re natural.” Grabbing the top of the blanket, you roll over to Motholg’s side. Their large body dwarfs yours and when you curl up against them, the tips of your feet barely meet the top of their calves. Their black fur is soft against your face, like a  mixture of a plush carpet and a goosefeather pillow.

Oh good, they used the Tea Tree soap.

“I’d probably do the same if you got sick.” You reach your hand up to their chest, cording through their thick fur. “We’re just gonna have to trust the other’s okay, huh?”

With your chin tucked into their ribs, Motholg smiles down at you. A claw runs up the back of your neck, stirring up goosebumps but relaxing your muscles.

“I believe so, darling.” Their fangs jut out from their lips as they continue to rub your neck. It’s quite goofy looking, for a demon, and gets a chuckle out of you.

You crane your neck and Motholg meets you halfway for a kiss, consequences be damned.

“Good night, I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetling.”

You fall asleep with Motholg’s fingers curled in your hair, the slight tap of their claws on the keys, a simmering contentment in your heart.

--------

A week later, when  you’re back to full health, you and Motholg are making dinner when-

“Ah-choo!”

You stop stirring the pasta and furrow your brows at Motholg. They’ve stilled, mid-movement while setting out the plates. Their face burns with embarrassment.

“A silly human sickness, huh?”

#monster romance #my writing #demon x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #monster/reader #fluff #domestic #monster x reader

[20moonchild21]

๛Struggling

Gif by @minyoongihoseok

Pairing: Poly!BTS x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: hardcore fluff, slight swearing

Words: 3400+

ッ

๛匕he one where she struggles with money∙ꨄ

"What do you mean, you can't pay me this month?" You asked angrily, as you drove your hands through your hair.

"I am sorry, but what should I do? Rents are high these days. If I don't pay..." Your boss tried to defended himself with the same excuses he had given you before.

"Rents are hight? Are you serious right now?" You interrupted him quickly, getting angrier with every word he said. "What do you think I pay my rent with? Paperclips and stones? I need this money or else I have to quit my apartment. We have a contract. You have to pay me, please!"

Times were hard these days. The pandemic had hit the country hard, but aftermath was even worse. Most people were still too afraid to go out onto the streets, rather staying home and shopping online for everything, which causes you a big problem.

For years you had worked in a small bakery, that was known for their extravagant pastries and specialities. The pay wasn't much, but you loved your creative job.

Seeing people smiling when they see their wedding cake for the first time, was one of the best thing coming along with you job, but with no weddings allowed, there was no one to buy those expensive cakes. And the few people buying small cupcakes wasn't enough for keeping the business alive.

Of course you knew that your boss's hands were tight, as well as yours. He had to pay his rent, but so did you.

"I am so sorry." He said again, sounding almost sad. "But I can't give you this money. We made almost zero sales this month. My pockets are empty. I already need to take my own, private money to save the shop, or else I can close next month."

You closed your eyes, as your hands were gripping the armrest of the chair you were sitting on. You weren't the type to yell or scream at people when things didn't go the way you like it, but this time, you just wished to yell out all your frustration at him.

Everything came together at this point, which made it hard for you to keep calm.

You hadn't seen your boyfriends in over 3 weeks, because they were stuck in quarantine at home after coming back from a project filming abroad.

Then, your period had started unannounced this morning, causing you a ruined trouser and cramps, along with a heavy headache.

And now it seemed like you even would be homeless next month, because you weren't able to afford your rent.

You pressed you eyes closer together, trying to hold back the swelling tears.

"Maybe you have someone who could borrow...." You boss began again, but you didn't want to head what he was about to say.

Making depts was the last thing you wanted to make. You mother had always raised you to earn your own money, and pay for the thing you want to have yourself.

Asking someone for money would lead you to asking for more and more and more, until you can't pay that someone back. The same situation you were stuck in now.

"It's okay." You said quietly. "I will find a solution. Have a nice weekend."

You bent down, grabbing for you bag and leaving the small office, heading straight back home.

The next morning was hard for you. The letter lying in your mailbox in evening wasn't helping to cheer up your mood. You landlord was getting more and more impatient, waiting for his rent to be paid. You were already 3 weeks late with you rent, and slowly he was running out of sympathy.

The words he wrote held you up from sleep the whole night, causing you to desperately think about a solution for this problem:

"...termination without notice if the rent is not be paid within the next two weeks..."

You had cried a lot this last night. Never in you life you had thought that you would end up like this, broke and desperate. You even had considered to jump over your pride and ask your boyfriends, who clearly had enough money, to help you out. But you quickly threw away this option, not wanting to use them because of their money.

With no other option left, you found yourself sitting on your laptop, checking you bank account. Of course you never spend all your money all at once. You had laid back a certain amount of money, your life savings, that you had sworn to never touch.

This money was so important for you, because it was meant to be spend into your future. A future that included your boyfriends, a own house, a car.....children.

Of course, you knew that each of your boyfriends were millionaires, multiplied with 7.

If you wanted, you would never have to go to work ever again. With their money, they could probably buy you 10 houses, 9 cars, 5 horses, a plane and everything you could ever wish for.

But that had never been your goal in life. You didn't want them to pay everything for you. They had own dreams, and each of them had worked hard to earn this much money. You couldn't and you wouldn't take advantages of that.

"Fuck." You whispered, as your head sunk onto the table you were sitting on.

By now, you couldn't hold back your tears anymore.

You computer screen showed your online bank account, listing the accounts you had created years agon. Among them the one that was your last chance to not be homeless soon:

Life Savings.

As you clicked on the link, a new window opened on your screen, showing you all the amount of money you had saved.

4,516 $

You stared at this number. Of course, this didn't sound too much in the first moment, but you were still young, and with 4000$ you would easily come through another 4 months, even more if you would be economical.

The tears were still running down your plump cheeks, rolling over your chin and staining your blue shirt. You didn't want to do that at all, but you had no other choice.

The only person you would have been brave enough to ask for help, was your mom. Sadly, she died 5 years ago, with all her bereaved money spent for the hospital bills and the funeral.

You sighed heavily. There was no going back now. You would transfer the money to your landlord today, before he could kick you out.

You were about to click the small 'Transfers' button, when suddenly your doorbell rang. You flinched heavily when the loud noise rang through you ear, obviously not expecting someone today.

You stood up and walked out of your bedroom, over to the front door.

Immediately when you opened the door, a bouquet of red roses blocked your view. You let out a small shriek, when the red flowers sunk down, revealing a familiar face behind it.

"Hello." Jimin flashed you his beautiful smile, before he pushed the flowers into Namjoon's arms, stepping forward and lifting you into his arms.

"Oh my god." You breathed out as you broke away from you paralysis. You wrapped your arms highly around the silver haired boy, who was still hugging you. "You are here."

"Jimin, don't break her." You heard Yoongi's deep voice from behind. "We still need her."

He tugged Jimin's shirt, until he let you down onto the floor, pouting as he had to pull away from you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your nose one last time, before the next boy stepped forward.

Their very presence was enough for you to calm down from the past stressing days. Having them squeezing you in their arms, kissing you all over your face made you feel so loved and invulnerable in the moment.

"May we step in?" Jin asked as he pulled away from you.

Still overwhelmed from their sudden visit, you looked at him confused. He gestured his hand into your apartment. You quickly stepped away from the doorway, letting them step inside.

"Are you okay, Jagiya (Honey)? You look a little bit pale." Jungkook asked as he stepped in front of you.

He lifted his hand up towards your forehead, feeling if you had a fever. But your skin felt cold under his touch.

"I am just – I am just surprise that you...." You began to stutter as they all stared at you.

They could tell that something was up with you. Being together for almost 3 years now, they knew that you would began to slightly stutter when you try to hide something. So you had to think about an excuse, before one of them would ask more questions.

"What are you even doing here?" Was the first thing that came into your mind. "Shouldn't you be in quarantine or something?"

"Silly Jagiya." Jungkook laughed as he cupped your face into his big, manly (and now tattooed) hands, pressing a wet kiss onto your nose. "Three weeks are over. We can leave the dorm again, so we decided to surprise you!"

The boys quickly let go of your strange behaviour. You all went into your living room where Hoseok and Tae were already pulling out your sofa, that way you would all fit on it. As soon as they placed the cushions back onto the sofa, you were lifted from the ground a thrown onto it.

"Hey!" You laughed and giggled as Jimin crawled over you.

He laid his much heavier body onto your smaller one, trapping you under him. He grabbed for you wrists, pulling them up over your head, where he pinned them down onto the soft fabric. With his mouth, he placed a line of kisses from your collarbone up to your ear.

"I missed you so much." He whispered as he nibbled the sensitive skin of your ear. "I thought about you a lot during quarantine, Sweetie."

You knew what he wanted from you. As Namjoon once said, Jimin needed indeed a lot of love and attention, but you loved to give it to him. Sadly, you had to disappoint him this time.

He was already pulling and tugging on your shirt, when you brought your mouth up to his ear.

"I am on my period." You whispered in that sexy voice you knew he normally loved.

He pulled away from you, looking into your eyes deeply.

"Are you serious?" He whined as he let go of your arms.

You were already laughing hard when the other finally came from the kitchen with snacks and drinks in their hands.

"What are you laughing at, Jagyia?" Tae asked as he plopped down next to you. "And why is he already pouting?"

He gestured for Jimin, who had crawled off of you, and was now lying beside you, hiding his face in your chest as you drove your fingers through his soft hair.

"She is being mean." He mumbled against your chest. "Stacking me three weeks in quarantine, with no one to care for me, and now that I have the chance to finally love my girlfriend again, she is one her period. You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

"We had phone sex almost ever day." You laughed at him as you pressed a kiss into his hair.

"But this isn't the same." He still whined. "And we hadn't had sex yesterday. So you can't say every day. And beside, sex over the phone isn't the same..."

You sighed at his words. You forgot to call them the previous evening, because of all the stress going on with your work and apartment.

"I am sorry." You said, as you threw your head back into the soft cushions. "I was just so stressed with work and stuff."

"Is everything okay with work?" Yoongi asked as he took your hand. "It must be hard for you when no weddings are allowed."

For a moment, your thought about telling them about the trouble your boss had with keeping the business going, but you decided to not bother them with your problems. They had enough stress with their band.

"Yes, yes, Everything is fine." You quickly tried brushed his concerns off. "We have a lot of pre orderings and stuff."

The topic quickly changed. The boys told you everything they did while stuck up in quarantine. They had used the time to work on their new album, which they wanted to do on their own. They told you how recording and producing was going.

"Hey, Aein (Sweetheart)?" Namjoon suddenly spoke up. You lifted your head from Hoseok's chest to look up at him. "Have you seen my green shirt by any chance? I couldn't find it anywhere at the dorm."

"Oh yes." You quickly said. "You forgot it the evening before you left. I washed and folded it on my desk. You can get it."

He nodded and got up from the sofa to walk up towards you bedroom. The other boys meanwhile where swarming about the evening before they left for America three weeks ago, complaining how bad they need you.

ꕀ

Namjoon had reached your bedroom door quickly.

He pushed it open and stepped inside. Immediately, he smiled when he saw your tidy bedroom. You have always been an organized person, which he admired, because he absolutely wasn't able to hold his room at home tidy.

He looked around, and spotted his green shirt, carefully folded on the table next to your laptop. He passed your bed and was about to reach his hand out for the piece of fabric, when his eyes fell onto the sheet of paper lying onto your desk.

He didn't want to invade your privacy, but the headline of the sheet caught his attention.

"Admonition: Pay your rent." Was written at the top of the paper.

His eyebrows cocked up. You didn't mention to them that you were laid with paying your rent this month. Normally, you didn't keep any secrets from each other.

He quickly read over the text. It seemed like you not only forgot to pay your rent, but you had delayed the day of paying several times. His eyes shifted over to your laptop, that was still opened up from when you were earlier working on it.

He entered the password, and the window of your bank account popped open. He saw which account you had opened, and it shocked him. He knew about your life savings, and he was slowly combining the figures.

You sometimes had mentioned that you didn't eared much money with your job, but you had never before complained about being not able to pay for your rent. Why would you take your life saving, instead of asking one of the boys or him for help? They would always help you out.

He stood up from the desk and walked towards the door. He quickly had to ask you about the rent topic, before you would do something you will regret later.

"Aein!" He called from the doorway. "Can you come here for a second, please?"

He waited for you to finally reach the room. Confused, you looked at your tall boyfriend sitting on your bed, looking kind of nervous and worried.

"Are you okay?" You asked, suddenly being pretty nervous yourself.

He didn't answer, instead, he gestured for you to take a place next to him on the bed. You made your way up,, and let your body sink down next to his. From this position, your gaze fell onto your desk. A flash of shock hit your body. Had he read the letter? What if he saw your bank account? What....

"I – ehm – I just want to say that I didn't want to invade your privacy. It was an accident." He said, as he took your hand, looking deep into your eyes. "But I saw the letter lying on your table. Are you having trouble with paying your rent? You know we would ever...."

"No, I am fine." You quickly said, not wanting to hear what he was about to say. "My boss is just a little bit late with my payment. But it will eventually arrive within the next days."

He looked at you intensely, knowing that you were lying because he saw your bank account. He sighed, and pulled you over from your spot onto his lap. Immediately, your arms wrap around his neck, nuzzling your nose into his neck. His apple scent was overwhelming your nose.

"Aein." He said quietly while stroking your back in small circles. "Why are you lying to me? You know that I, that we, would always help you out. I saw on your computer that you were about to take the money from your life savings. Why would you do that instead of asking one of us?"

By now, you couldn't hold back the tears anymore. Not only had you lied to your boyfriends, you also had to admit yourself that you had problems that you couldn't solve on your own. You hugged him tighter, sobbing quietly into his neck.

Namjoon didn't say anything, he just rocked you gently back and forth, rubbing small circles on your back. He wanted to give you the time to tell him by your own. After a few minutes, you finally pulled away from the soft skin of his neck, eyes puffy and red.

"I – I don't – I am sorry." You sobbed even more, not being able to say the words. This was a really big deal for you. "I just don't you to think that I need your money to survive and - and I didn't want to have any depts. So I thought I – I could use some money from my life saving to bridge over this month."

You looked at your hands in your lap, fiddling with the sleeve of Namjoon's shirt.

"Look at me." He said, as he lifted you face by your chin. "Did one of us make you ever feel like you were dependent from us?"

You shook your head slightly, without hesitation.

"Did one of us make you ever feel judged when you had problems?"

You shook your head again.

"Did one of us denied you any help once, when you needed it?"

"No." You whispered.

He pressed a kiss onto your forehead. He then placed his left arm under your kneecap and his right arm under your back to lift you up in his arms. As he began to walk out of your room, you wrapped your arms once again around his neck.

When the two of you reached the living room, all the other heads shot up from the TV.

"Where have you been so long?" Jin asked as he shoved a hand full of crisps into his mouth.

When they saw your puffy eyes, they all immediately knew that your had been crying. Namjoon sat down onto the sofa, letting go of you, as another pair of strong arms were already wrapped around your body from behind.

"What happened?" You heard Jungkook whispering in your ear from behind, as he placed small kisses all around your ear.

You hesitated for a moment. Then looking up at Namjoon, who gestured for you to tell them, by lying his hand on your knee.

Carefully, you told your boyfriends about the financial problems your had. You told them about your work and your boss not being able to pay your payment in time, so you could pay your rent in time. You told them about you not being brave enough to ask someone for help, because you were embarrassed.

The boys listened carefully, as you spoke.

"But Jagyia." Jimin had crawled up beside you. "We are together. You have to tell us everything that is on your mind. We would never reject you, you know?"

"I know." You laughed slightly as you kissed his plump lips, that were just inches away from yours. "I am sorry. I thought I can just bridge this month."

"You are so silly sometimes." Jin suddenly said, as he bent forward to grab your arms pulling you along with him as he threw himself backwards onto the sofa. "I want you to trust us with everything that bothers you. We want you to be happy."

The eighth of you kept talking a little while longer, until you heard the words:

"Maybe paying rent is not necessary anymore, because there actually is something we wanted to ask you for quite a long time now."

________________________________________

I think this one is pretty cute.

What do you think is the question at the end? I thin it is pretty obvious. Lol.

Mꨄ

#bangtan #bts #bts reactions #jeon jungguk #jimin park #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #taehyung kim #yoongi min #bts imagination #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts scenes #bts poly #poly bts #Idol #girl #cute #love #ot7 bts #fluff #bts fluff

[mldrgrl]

How Stella Got Her Groove Back

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG-13 Summary: Just a little something to celebrate spring...and Stella’s birthday!

They left Connecticut in September, with a fair amount of reluctance to go, but they needed to return to the city.  Becca had already gone and though both Karen and Fish insisted they were welcome to stay longer, stay forever if they had to, at a certain point, Hank and Stella had just been missing their loft and their life in New York too much.  Of course, they knew that what they were returning to was not the life they were accustomed to, but they would have to learn to adapt to the new normal.

Winter was long and brutal.  They did spend two weeks over Christmas and New Years back in Connecticut again and that was the first time they’d seen Becca since July, and the last time they would see her until spring.  Karen had tried to coerce them all to stay again and Hank and Stella nearly gave in.  If not for the fact that Stella left a project behind she’d been working on for her classes and if Hank had brought the pages he’d been working on for his new novel, they just might have done it.

When they got back to New York, and in a cabin fever-induced moment of weakness, they hired a landscape architect to design their rooftop terrace and though the noise of construction aggravated the hell out of both of them, they were both pleased with the results.  They now had an artificial lawn of soft green turf, an outdoor patio daybed in the shape of a cube with canvas shades on all four sides, a wet bar, strategically placed heating lamps, and a wood burning fire pit.  Unbeknownst to them, when Fish had heard their plans, he’d called the company they hired, ordered them a charcoal grill, and told the contractor to keep it a surprise.  They were very surprised by the barbeque that was suddenly part of the design, but it looked nice, even if it wouldn’t get any use.

Finding ways to fill the time with nowhere to go and no one to see was extremely difficult.  Neither of them were very much into television or movies.  The terrace, as welcome as it was, wasn’t finished until the end of February.  Stella had the classes she was teaching and the child psychology classes she was enrolled in to keep her fairly busy during the days, but Hank could only write for so many hours at a time and he found that he actually missed helping Fish with the guitar lessons.  He grumbled to Stella that ‘that damn Trout’ bewitched him somehow and then begrudgingly called him up and asked if he could still help out remotely.  Fish was delighted by the request and sent him an iPad and a teaching schedule.  

The close quarters had caused a few squabbles, though nothing major.  They took a few online cooking classes together which produced some mediocre meals and a testy exchange on the appropriate amount that constituted a ‘pinch of salt.’  Beyond that, they managed not to take out any frustrations on each other.

It was April 1st when Stella wandered from the bathroom to the bedroom in her t-shirt and sweatpants, rubbing lotion into her hands and arms.  Hank was in bed, perhaps naked, or perhaps wearing jockey shorts, she couldn’t be sure.  He had his guitar across his lap and his head back so that he gazed at the ceiling while he plucked lightly at the strings.

“Hank,” she said, leaning into the foot of the bed with slightly bended knees.

“Do you think ‘oral’ actually rhymes with ‘clorital’ or is it cheating?” he replied.

“You know that next week is my birthday.”

Hank splayed his hand out on the guitar and looked at her.  “Is this a trick question?”

“Not at all.”

“So, if I say ‘yes, of course, your birthday is April 7th and I already know I’m not to mention it to anyone,’ is that the wrong answer because I’m not supposed to acknowledge it in the first place?”

“I am aware that in the past I have requested that my birthday be treated as any other day.”

“Mmhm.”

“I’ve been thinking that perhaps...I might like to celebrate this year after all.”

“Oh, I get it.  April fools.  You could’ve just put plastic wrap on the toilet or secretly replaced my regular coffee with Folgers.”

“I’m serious.”

“Ah, so the one year it’s impossible to throw a party, you want to have a party?”

“God, no.  Parties are awful.”

“Well, what then?”

“Brunch?  With Becca?  This weekend, or the next, perhaps.  There are more places opening up now.  We could-”

“Absolutely, Sherlock.  Whatever the suggestion, I am all in.”  He pushed his guitar aside and she was mildly disappointed to discover that he was in his jockey shorts after all and not naked. He scooted forward to the end of the bed and wrapped his arms around her hips.

“A walk in the park, maybe?”

“Not sure if my legs remember what walking is at this point, so it’ll be good to remind them.”  He moved his hands down to the backs of her thighs and gave them a squeeze and then cupped her ass.  “Why the sudden change of heart, Sherlock?”

“I’ve just been thinking lately that it’s perfectly acceptable to want to celebrate being alive.  After the year we’ve had.”

“I agree, but as long as I get to have my breakfast in bed in bed that day, I’ll be happy.”

“It’s my birthday, I’m not bringing you breakfast in bed.”

“Oh, honey, you are the breakfast,” he growled, wrapping his arms around her again and pulling her into him as he fell back onto the bed.

*****

The Saturday before her birthday was Easter weekend.  There was no rain in the forecast and Becca was available, so it was perfect.  They took a Lyft to the upper west side and met her at a French bistro that had outdoor seating.  Stella could tell right away that something was bothering Becca, that she was putting on a false front of cheerfulness, which was very unlike her, but if she did know her stepdaughter, she knew the girl could not keep up pretenses for long.

They ordered and waited for their food over bottomless mimosas and miniature ham and cheese croissants served as an appetizer.  It wasn’t cold, but a cool breeze would drift by every so often and Stella was glad she had left her hair down so that her ears were covered.  She wished she’d been a bit more practical though and worn pants.  She’d just felt like dressing up and at the last minute, put on an olive-colored dress with small printed white flowers on it, but at least it was long-sleeved and she had a white sweater.  Becca and Hank were like twins in their matching leather jackets and dark jeans.

“Are you working on anything?” Becca asked Hank.

“Almost finished,” he answered.

“Oh.  What’s it about?”

“A couple that’s been married for fifteen years, but they’re on the brink of the divorce when the pandemic hits and then they go from spending almost no time together to all of their time together and it’s disastrous at first, but then they end up learning a lot about each other.”

“So, they save their marriage?”

“No, they end up getting divorced anyway.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“It’s fiction, sweetheart.”

“People like happy endings.”

“People are stupid.  I didn’t say it didn’t have a happy ending though.  Are you working on anything, Daughter?”

Becca sighed and picked at her nails.  Stella put a hand on Hank’s knee under the table.

“Is something bothering you, Darling?” Stella asked.

“No.  Yeah.  No.  I don’t wanna ruin your birthday or anything when it’s the first birthday we’ve ever celebrated together.”

Stella gave Becca a brief smile.  “I don’t know if your father has told you why I’ve always been rather reluctant to celebrate my birthday.”

Becca shook her head.  Hank stretched his arm out behind Stella’s chair and put his hand on her back.  She gave his knee a squeeze of appreciation.

“My father passed away on my fourteenth birthday,” Stella said.  “So, Darling, you have a high bar to overcome if you think being in a low mood will ruin my birthday.”

“That sucks about your dad, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”  Stella looked to Hank for a moment and then back to Becca.  “I’ve spent many years trying to ignore the date as though if I didn’t acknowledge it, it’s like it had never happened.  I don’t think I really understood until quite recently that one is capable of being sad and grateful at the same time.  And that life should be celebrated.  Especially now.”

“I guess I’m just...when we were up at Mom’s house, everything was so easy and nice and I had a really hard time writing.  That’s why I wanted to leave.  It was way too peaceful.”

“You know if I had a dollar for every time Becca claimed my shit was fucking her up, I’d be richer than that fucking Amazon guy, and now it sounds like she wants to file a grievance that we’re not fucking her up enough.”

“Am not.”  Becca rolled her eyes.

“Don’t listen to him,” Stella said.  “He’s been so mired with boredom lately he has regular calls with Fish.”

“No!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Hank protested, putting his hands up in defense.  “There was and will only be one bromance in my life and that’s with one Mr. Charles Runkle, that follically challenged motherfucker.  No better pairing existed except for maybe Bert and Ernie, or Sid and Nancy.”

“I think we should let Becca continue with what she was trying to say.”

“Thank you.”  Becca put her hand up as though she was blocking Hank from her view and he reached over and slapped her palm away.  “As I was saying, I left because I thought the serenity was blocking me in some way, but since I’ve been back, it’s like the opposite.  It felt so apocalyptic at first and desperate.  It was like impossible to sit down and put words together when there were so many shitty things happening outside.  What if...what if the next thing I finish, people will be like oh, she was just sitting inside writing while everyone else was dying?”

“There will always be shitty things happening outside,” Hank said.  

“Great advice, Dad.”

“I don’t mean to bitchslap you with reality, but the world being shitty isn’t a reason to give up.”

“I’m not giving up.”

“Good, because you are way more fucking talented than I could ever even hope to be.”

“I just don’t know if it matters.  If anyone should care.”

“Why should you concern yourself with that?”

Becca glared at Hank, clearly annoyed with the answer.

“I know you think I’m being facetious,” Hank said, quickly.  “But, I’m not.  If all anyone wanted to read was about things that ‘mattered’ that 50 Shades of Hot Garbage would never have sold a single copy.  You don’t know why people read what you write.  Maybe they want to escape the shitty things happening in the world.  Maybe they want to laugh or cry or be turned on.  Maybe they just need something to pass the time.”

“Five minutes ago you just said people were stupid for wanting happy endings, now you’re saying I should just give them garbage, if that’s what they want.”

“Yeah, I’m a fucking hypocrite, what else is new, but I just want you to be happy with what you’re doing.  You want me to buy you a new laptop?”

“I’m not twelve anymore.  You can’t just buy my happiness.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Becca,” Stella finally interjected.  “I think it’s obvious by now that your father may possibly be the world’s worst motivational speaker.”

“Or the world’s best unmotivational speaker,” Hank said.  “You see what I did there?  I turned a negative into a positive.”

Both Stella and Becca ignored the comment.

“I think I may understand what he’s trying to say though,” Stella said.  “I’m not a creator, but I’ve been a consumer.  When I was reading for pleasure, I certainly wasn’t reaching for mystery novels.  And I think that...popularity and quality are two different things.  Certainly, one would hope for both, but it isn’t always the case.  I know you and I know that quality is important to you, so perhaps you should only focus on if what you’re working on is the best that it can be and not on whether or not it matters.”

“Can I add something to that?” Hank asked.

“Not if you plan on fucking up everything Stella just said,” Becca answered.

“I’ve done at least a dozen online events this year and at every single one, someone has asked me when the next Rebecca Moody novel is going to be released or they want to know what you’re working on.  I’m not even entirely sure all of them are there to hear my Q&A or if they just showed up because they know I’m your dad and they think you might make a guest appearance.  And if one person takes umbrage with you for creating something during a time of utter hell, fuck them.”

“Without art, the crudeness of reality would make the world unbearable,” Stella quoted.

“That sounds so much hotter when you say it than George Bernard Shaw,” Hank replied, rubbing his hand across Stella’s upper back.

“Okay, I don’t want to spend this day being miserable,” Becca said, shaking her head and shoulders like she was trying to rid herself of negativity.  “Thank you, Stella.”

“You’re welcome, darling girl.”

“Hey, what about me?” Hank asked.

“There is this jacket I saw online that I want,” Becca answered, cheekily raising one of her eyebrows and tilting her head.

“I’ll text you my credit card number later.”

“Thank you, Father.”

*****

Brunch was followed by a stroll in Central Park and it seemed that at least half of the city had the same idea.  It was interesting being in a place so crowded and yet also so open.  The decent weather and the cherry blossoms in full bloom probably had something to do with it.  What also would have felt strange a year ago, seeing everyone wearing face masks and wearing them as well, was oddly comforting.  When Stella had put hers on that morning before they walked out the door, Hank told her she looked like a sexy brain surgeon or cardiologist, whichever one was smarter or made more money.

When they came upon Bethesda Fountain, there was a small band playing salsa music and a few couples dancing.  Hank tried to imitate the steps and then grabbed Becca’s hand and spun her around under his arm.  She laughed and tried to break free of him, but he pulled her back in and tried to get her to dance.

“Da-ad,” Becca protested.

“Dance with me, Daughter.”

“I don’t dance.”

“You’re no fun.”  Hank let go of Becca’s hand and then grabbed Stella’s.

“Oh, no,” she said.

“Come on, Sherlock.  I know you’ve probably got some moves I’ve never seen.”

“I assure you that’s not true,” she answered, letting him spin her away though and then laughed as he gyrated his hips dramatically as he stepped back towards her.  “Whatever it is that you’re doing does not resemble the salsa in any way.”

“Let me see you do better.”

Stella looked past Hank to the other dancers and mimicked the forward and back steps.  She put a hand on Hank’s chest to keep him at arm’s length and prevent their knees from colliding as he tried to fall into the same step with her, moving forward when she stepped back, and back when she stepped forward.  What he lacked in grace, he made up for with enthusiasm.  As soon as they fell into sync, he grabbed her hand and lifted her other arm in a more formal dance frame like the other dancers had.

What followed was probably the worst and most amateurish version of a salsa that had ever been danced, but Stella laughed so hard it brought tears to her eyes.  When the music ended, Hank stopped and pulled Stella’s face mask down under her chin before lowering his own and then kissing her through both of their laughter.

The dancing couples broke apart and drifted back into the crowd.  Becca went over and dropped some money into the cup on the ground in front of the band and thanked them for playing.  Stella took Hank’s hand and then Becca linked her arm with Stella’s as they continued on.

Later that night, when Stella came out of the bathroom as she rubbed lotion into her hands and arms, she stopped at the foot of the bed and watched Hank read over the latest pages of his novel.  When she was finished, she climbed onto the bed and walked over to Hank on her knees until she was straddling his lap.  He threw his pages down, took his reading glasses off, and pulled her close with his hands on her ass.

“Thank you,” Stella said, as Hank kissed the side of her neck.

“For what?”

“This truly was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“Your birthday’s not until Wednesday.”

“Perhaps next year we’ll even be able to invite Karen and Fish to town.”

“We’ll make The Trout christen that barbeque he forced on us.”

“It does look nice though.”

“It really does.  You want your present now, or should I wait until Wednesday?”

“I might be interested in a preview,” she said, sliding her hand down his chest and then into his shorts.  “A little peak at the package ahead of time.”

“You just assumed I was talking about fucking when I said I had something for you?”

“Weren’t you?”

Hank paused and then grinned.  “Yeah, I was.”

The End

#i wrote this #hanella #hank/stella #californication #thefall #The adventures of the lady detective and the writer lives on

[sweetestlamb]

Wake Me Up Inside(Chapter 2)

Summary: Hope is a flickering light, coming and going as it sees fit. 

Author's note: Y'all like this? Color me surprised I thought everyone had cast Sujin aside based on tumblr post honestly, expected maybe 3 people to read this. I'm happy so many are enjoying, thanks for coming along for the ride. If any talented individuals want to make me a header that would be great, anyway enjoy the teen angst. More awful parenting, beware. it hurts me to write this but random immediate romance doesn’t make sense to me so here we goooo. 

The world seems larger, everyone towers over her as they squeeze by jostling her tiny body, she twists and turns desperately searching for a familiar face and faltering when there is none. Just blurred faces with stretched out smiles that are horrifying grotesque, almost as if they were painted on by a deranged circus clown. She begins to run frantically racing away from the figures, who are now reaching out for her grabbing her arm and tugging at her pigtails. She opens her mouth but nothing comes out, bringing a trembling hand to her lips she finds them sewn shut, silencing her petrified screams.

Then a hand clutches at her elbow and she's spun around, suddenly staring into the face of evil.

"Where have you been you brat? Everyone was waiting for you."

She tries to tug free of his punishing grip but his fingers tighten on her tender flesh, marking the delicate skin. Ignoring her evident trepidation he forcefully pushes her towards a table, with a large looming birthday cake.

"Hurry up and blow out these candles, you're almost old enough to be useful to me."

Screaming no in her mind, she breaks free of his hold running as fast as her compact legs will take her but she miscalculates and trips over a stray toy, tumbling over the edge of a pool she hadn't noticed there earlier. The cold splash of the chlorine scented water on her skin shocks her in a panicked daze and when she pries her eyes open the menacing face of her father greets her looking nonplussed by her hectic drowning.

"Good riddance." He smirks sipping from his cup as he stalks away, no longer bothered with her. 

Water constructs her airway and she continues to sink to the bottom. Forgotten and discarded.

With a flash she bursts from her nightmare silent scream on her tongue, it's his presence that silences her cry. Wide feline eyes regard her from his crouched position, it takes a moment to realize that the rapid puffs of air filling the room are coming from her lips. She grips at the mattress beneath her, hopelessly pleading with her heart and lungs as her body quivers from the intensity of her dream.

"Are you okay? You looked like you were having a bad dream, I called your name a few times."

She's decidedly not any semblance of okay and has no concept of what that would entail for her but she finds herself nodding, lying as easily as she always does.

"I'm fine." Clipped and brisk despite the cold sweat on her skin, she's probably soaked through his shirt the collar almost plastered to red collar bones.

He doesn't reply further than pursing his lips and walking over to a dresser she'd hadn't noticed earlier.

"That lie would probably be more believable if you didn't look as if you were going to pass out at any second." She can hear his eyes rolling at her and it raises her heckles, she doesn't need anyone looking after her, she is fine on her own.

"I should go." She says curtly, forcing herself out of the dangerously warm bed to walk across the room and test her previously soaked pajamas. Damp, but they'll do.

"I thought you had nowhere to go." He challenges finally standing to his full height, subconsciously she flinches at the sudden movement and immediately he takes a step back pressing himself almost flush with the wall. Lowering his head until they are almost eye level. Shame washes over her do strongly she has to turn away, so pathetic.

Speaking to his bedpost she answers, "That was last night. I can go home now."

Her father will be at work until late into the evening, she just needs to lock herself in her room and she should be safe until school tomorrow.

He hums at her sounding closer than he did earlier, "You don't have to go. I'll find an excuse to give my mom, you can stay here."

No she can't. She knows what's going through his mind, probably the same thing that went through Suho's when he saw the blood on her lip for the first time, you poor little thing. Pity was always the first reaction but it never lasted, eventually pity shifted to annoyance nobody wanted to be friends with someone getting beaten. It was depressing, and uncomfortable to discuss and there was nothing anyone could do to help her. It was her penance for being born a girl and not being the best at least to make up for that disappointment.

"I'm not a stray puppy, you can't just pick me up off the street and expect me to stay. I told you, I'm fine." This time she says it harder, sharper with a bite that screams don't push me.

Unsurprisingly enough Han Seojun doesn't seem intimidated by her.

This time she gets to witness the eye roll as he approaches her but still keeps his head lowered as if deferring to her. "I already told you that I don't pity you, you need help stop pretending you don't."

But she's not pretending, that would imply that she wants others to help secretly. That just isn't accurate, she wants nothing- expects nothing. Her father pound any inkling of hope she had out a long time ago.

Stepping into his space, her eyes narrow as she bites out, "I don't need anything certainly not help from you. You're not a nice person, what am I your one good deed? Just mind your business."

She pointedly glances away at the flash of hurt that scatters across his expressive face.

She expects him to lash out, stretch to his full form and berate her, reprimand her ungrateful behavior and an even darker side of her almost expects him to slap her. I see why your father does that, you deserve it.

"Suit yourself."

That's all he says solemnly with a shrug before tossing more dry clothes at the bed and silently exiting the room.

She feels worse than she did before. Guilt gnawing at her, she ignores the offered clothes she doesn't deserve his hospitality or warmth. She disrobes and puts back on the damp chilled pajamas, that matches her better.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

That's what he gets for trying to help someone, his act of kindness thrown back in his face. Angrily he pours the boiling water into the waiting cup, starting his mother's mandatory morning tea. He's so lost in the routine that he doesn't notice her presence until she clears her throat. His pride stops him from turning around, her words were as painful as a dagger.

"Your clothes are on the bed. I called a cab."

He nods without looking back, "Get home saf--" He cuts himself off, maybe he's overstepping again. So he just hums and stirs the now perfect cup of tea with a splash of milk. His sister's will get three sugars, she has such a sweet tooth.

The soft snap of the front door closing is loud in the silence of the morning, the sun has barely risen. His mother will be out in an hour, he was worried for nothing. Nobody will even know she was here. He can pretend this was all a fever dream and listen to her advice, he's never minded anyone else's business why did he decide to start now?

Lesson learned.

He spends the remainder of his weekend not thinking about the bruises on her face and instead plays video games, bullying Suho into playing Call of Duty with him online until the stupid genius starts to win too often and it's no longer stress reducing.

"Sore loser." He scoffs at the staticky insult through his headphones, draining the can of soda he took from the fridge. He should start dinner soon, his mom and sister will be back from shopping any minute.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did." He can't help but roll his eyes at the lame response but he pushes on ignoring his brain shouting at him that this is the opposite of minding his business. He hardly listens to his brain, his gut is much stronger.

"Does Sujin have any siblings? Or does she like to box or anything like that? " He tries to make sense of the night, maybe it wasn't what he thought initially. From his memory Sujin comes from a very affluent respectable family, there's no way right?

"What? What kind of question is that?"

"Just answer me." He quips impatiently, ready to let go of this unwarranted worry that's been weighing on his heart.

After a long pause where he checks if his Wi-Fi disconnected he finally hears a response, "No. She lives with her mother and father, she's an only child. And I’ve never known her to do anything physical like that."

His chest tightens, not what he wanted to hear. Her flinch this morning flashes brightly in his memory. He wasn't mistaken. He's sure of it, she'd been scared. 

"Why?"

He can barely hear through the ringing in his ear, "Nothing. I have to go."

He signs off before the other boy can reply, walking autopilot to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Chopping vegetables does nothing to stop the nausea bubbling in his stomach.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Taking the bus the next day is out of the question, he has spent the entire weekend wishing he had the nerve to get the girl's number but anyone he asked would misunderstand why and he didn't need anymore rumors circulating, he would just have to get it from her himself. If she wanted him to mind his business she shouldn't have collapsed where he could see.

The engine rumbles between his legs as he brings his motorcycle to a stop, swinging off effortlessly before tugging the helmet off and shaking his hair free. He doesn't notice the various lecherous female and male eyes watching his very moment, too focused on walking into the school and finding her.

Turning a corner he sees her instantly, sandwiched between her two best friends, they look like a high school brochure giggling as they walk down the hallway garnering the attention of most of the male population. The purple bruise on her cheek is missing, nothing but smooth blemish free skin. He almost does a double take. As all three of them pass him, he locks eyes with Sujin for a moment, the mask slides off for a second but the moment he blinks the façade snaps back into place, nothing left but a pretty empty smile.

He follows them into class, sliding into his seat and promptly going to sleep. He has to catch her alone.

Doing so proves to be a near impossible feat, she's always surrounded by her two bestie shadows and Chorong and the gang are never far from him either. He sighs forlornly even time he sees her only for someone to interrupt before he can approach her. All too frustrated.

He's sitting dejected on the staircase when he hears the bustle of students in the hallway, their voices carrying down the long space and he rolls his eyes imagining what ridiculous situation they've deemed as drama now. Last time it was Ju-Kyung having pimples, a topic that was completely groundbreaking and worthy of weeks of discussion. So it's with the smallest shred of curiosity that he stands up wandering over to the commotion.

"What's going on?" He directs to the closest person, some mousy looking girl who stutters out an indecipherable answer. He looks at her confused before stalking away to find someone who has a better grasp of communication. He poses the question again, to a boy this time.

"I heard one of the girls started freaking out in the bathroom. Screaming not to be touched."

He stands frozen before the words register in his brain and his feet are moving without his brain's permission. Shoving past gossiping bystanders, he easily gets to the front only to see Ju-Kyung covering someone with her sweater as they walk down the hallway. Immediately the crowd comes alive and they surge forward like a wave all calling questions out at once, "What's wrong with you?", "Why did you freak out?", "Who do you think you are? Are you too rich to be touched or something?"

He twists his head around ferociously at the last question, everyone in front of him gulps while taking a step back. The hallway is a cacophony of voices and shouts and he can feel his anger boiling, slamming his fist into the nearest surface-a wall- he gets everyone's attention.

"Go back to your classes. Now."

Some of the male students look as if they are going to challenge his authority but another step forward is all it takes to get the student body scampering to their classrooms.

Inhaling deeply he stomps off to find the source of his unease.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It had been hard to disregard, how lacking of warmth her house was. Seojun's apartment had been brimming with warmth and love, the fridge bursting with papers and drawings documenting that someone cared enough to show them off. Her home was a large empty prison in comparison.

But she'd been right, it was dark and quiet proof that her parents were not home. With her heart in her throat she ran to her room, locking the door behind her. Sleep captured her before she knew she was in its grasps, waking up groggy hours later and forgetting where she was. Fierce pounds on her door reminded her instantly.

"Open this door now."

His voice is a low growl, even more terrifying than when he's screaming his lungs out. She grabs her vanity chair pressing it under the door knob for more protection.

She jumps when the door bulges, the loud crashing making it clear that he's slamming bodily into the door now determined to get to her.

"Please....stop." She pleads, tears already cascading down her bruised cheeks.

"Open this fucking door!!"

She's sobbing now, body folded as she cries her eyes out shaking viciously as her father continues to ran into the door, dread filling her stomach as he's never fought this hard before.

Then everything is quiet.

The pounding is gone as suddenly as it arrived. She doesn't let go her panic just yet, still too raw. Butt seconds crawl to minutes and she hears nothing so she finally exhales, sliding to the floor in relief.

She weakly crawls to her bathroom, turning the dial to the hottest temperature possible wanting to burn off his brand on her skin. After her shower she brushes her wet hair, staring at the bruise, it's turning yellow now with tinges of purple. Good thing she let Su-ah and Ju-Kyung convince her to buy foundation the last time they were in the beauty store. She will have to layer it on tomorrow.

She's starving but the thought of leaving her room with him in the house is enough to eliminate her appetite. Instead she puts on a warm sweater and sweat pants and wraps herself in a thick blanket, still too cold ice running through her veins.

She had never felt as warm as she did at his house.

A quiet knock thankfully pulls her away from such unnecessary thoughts. She simply listens.

"Su-jin, it's mom. I brought you food."

She sits up, crawling out of bed to stand in front of the bed. Her mother has never brought her food, even when she was nine and hadn't gotten a perfect score on her spelling test and her father locked her in the closet for two days with only a dictionary. She'd contemplated eating the pages before she was finally set free. Her mother had simply looked away, avoiding eye contact until she was safely back in her room.

But her stomach grumbles at the mention of sustenance and despite her best judgement she opens the door.

It's a mistake.

Immediately she notes that her mother has nothing in her hands, trembling herself and before she can slam the door shut a foot blocks her escape.

He uses the belt that time whipping her in places that others will never see, her back, thighs, and shoulders. Her mother's weakly calls out, "Don't hit her face she has to meet that boy you wanted this week."

It goes on for what seems like hours, he leaves her crumpled on the ground her body stinging as she refused to cry, blinking her tears away not wanting to give him what he wants. When her mother meekly walks over and extends a hand to her, she looks at her with listless eyes. Her mother has a fresh bruise on her cheek, her father hardly hits her anymore using Sujin has his punching bag instead but at times of high frustration he would regress.

She wonders if her mother knew that one day this would be her faith. If this was the purpose of her birth.

She doesn't take the hand. It seems there was still some hope left, it is extinguished now.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The school day had been easy she's been hiding her abuse for years, no teacher had ever suspected a thing and she didn't even blame them. It would just be bothersome, her father was a powerful man there wouldn't be much they could do.

She slaps on a smile, allowing herself to be dragged around by Su-ah and Ju-Kyung, listening as they giggle about their boyfriends chiming in the appropriate moments to not seem disinterested or jealous. She is jealous though, of their freedom and innocent problems, she'd lost her innocence a long time ago.

She knows Seojun is trying to talk to her but she can't handle seeing him right now, having to face someone who knows what she's going through sounds worst than being beat right now. So she jolts at every sight of the tall lanky figure, thankful for his fan club who seems to announce his every arrival. She's on her way to having a successful day when everything goes to hell.

She's in the bathroom drying her hands when a classmate comes in, responding to the small talk she answers the girl's question before nodding her head in goodbye.

"Oh your tag is sticking out."

That's all she hears before a hand is brushing across her sore beaten neck and her reaction is instantaneous, she turns around catching the offending hand and twisting it.

Her throat wheezes out, "Don't touch me."

The girl stares at her wide-eyed before tugging her hand away, then other girls begin to come of the stalls to see what's happening and before she knows it she's hyperventilating on the ground, nonsensical words dripping off her tongue. Everything is too loud and her head is splitting in half just when her vision is graying out, she smells a familiar perfume.

"Su-jin ah, you're going to be okay. Just breathe with me, follow me."

Ju-Kyung's voice is calming and sure, not touching her but covering them both in her sweater as she models how to breathe, she follows until her lungs are no longer burning.

"Good. You're doing so good, is it okay if I touch you? I'm going to help you up."

She grabs at the bathroom wall yanking herself until she's upright, trying to show her friend that she's not that weak but a look of hurt is displayed on her face and Sujin doesn't comprehend why.

The other girl shakes it off though, now covering her fully with her cornflower yellow sweater.

She's suddenly reminded of her nightmare this morning as she has to pass all the students in the hallway, all pointing and laughing as she falls apart some of them even have their phone out recording her and she sways uneasily before catching herself, trembling the whole way she walks down the hallway until a loud bang and a voice she recognizes all too well silences the uproar.

Resisting the desire to look back she allows Ju-Kyung to pull her up the stairs until they're on the roof. Air pumps into her lungs as she's finally free of all the judgmental eyes.

She expects the other girl to start interrogating her the moment the door closes but it never comes, instead Ju-Kyung places her sweater around her trembling body.

"You're okay. Just keep breathing."

She does her best to follow the uncomplicated directions.

After a few minutes, Ju-Kyung's phone suddenly rings disturbing the quietude. She barely hears blood rushing in her ears like the waves at the beach.

"Okay we're on the roof."

She stills at that utterance, turning in alarm.

"Who was that? Who did you tell where we are?"

Ju-Kyung looks guilty, as if she wasn't meant to hear that conversation. She doesn't want to see anyone right now, can barely stand to be with herself.

"Call them back and tell them not to come. I want to be alone."

Ju-Kyung holds her phone in her hands gingerly staring at the screen, clearly contemplating what is the right decision. She almost lunges for the phone to see who is the most recent call, but it's not needed as the roof door slams open.

"Why are you here?" She shouts, walking away now furious that tears are already filling her eyes now just at the sight of him.

"Nice to see you too princess." He drawls back, following her further onto to roof.

"Will you two be okay? I have to go back to class."

She spins to glare at her friend, why would she leave her alone with Seojun? They have had any interaction at school that hasn't been antagonistic.

"Yes, we need to talk." He answers for them and that's enough to make Ju-Kyung nod before walking off with a smile in her direction. The door shuts loudly behind her retreating back, Sujin wants to chase after her. Instead she turns back to him spitting fire and poison. 

"I told you to mind your business."

"Are you okay?" He counters, eying her like a wild animal who can bolt at any minute, he isn’t wrong.

"That's none of your business!"

His expression remains the same, those beguiling feline eyes that scream at her.

"How hurt are you?"

Her emotions come crashing down again. He just keeps pushing and picking at her, no matter how much she shouts and shoves him away he just won’t go away like everyone else did. What is wrong with him? Couldn’t he see that she was more trouble than she was worth?

"What do you want to hear, huh? That everything hurts, that he used a belt this time! Do you want to hear about how he beat me until I bleed! Why do you care what happens me, why won't you leave me the fuck alone!"

Sobs ravage her body, she keeps brushing the fiery tears away fighting with her emotions but they won't stop and her palms are wet from covering her face, her breath is hitching until she starts hiccupping uncontrollably and she starts to feel light-headed.

"Hey! Su-jin! Breathe!"

But she can't, she doesn't remember how. Her body only knows how to hurt.

"Breathe, damnit!" Despite his shout, she hears the slight quiver in his voice but she can't discern why it's there but it desperately makes her want to obey.

When he cups her head, staring her head on she feels the vine wrapped around her lungs shrivel up and air starts gushing in until she feels dizzy, she sways back and forth gravity now also working against her and then she's being reeled in, her head placed on his chest. The thumping of his heart lulls her into a meditative state, she starts to count the beats and before she knows it the cobwebs in her head subside. Embarrassed by their sudden closeness, his arms are still by his side now almost immediately retracting from her head but she can feel his warmth radiating onto the skin of her thighs, she begins to draw back.

"Just stay. It's helping."

She blisters at his words, preparing to push him away.

"It's helping me, seeing you like that....it scared me. I helped you the other night, you should return the favor."

She puffs up before deflating, she'll never admit it but this is helping having something else to focus on, his scent, his heartbeat, the way his chest expands and constricts with every breath. The buzz of their skin nearly touching, his deep voice rumbling through his chest and into her ears, all placating and soothing her worries away. 

"Fine."

She's never known Seojun to stay still for this long after years of attending the same school, always bursting with kinetic energy so she's pleasantly surprised by how long he simply stands and lets her rest on his chest, neither of them saying a word.

She stiffens when he suddenly starts moving disturbing their stillness, she sees his hands balled into tight fists by his side and wonders what's going through his mind.

"You can't go back there."

This again, she starts to remind him that she has nowhere to g--

"Stay with me."

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #kang sujin #han seojun #the couple that should have been #timeline is around recent episodes just minus ALL of the bullshit #sujin is a good girl and I won't hear anything else #can't wait to make her smile

[urban-hart]

it is 3:30 AM, and I am up crafting a completely unnecessary Teacher!Cas AU from the ground up, which will likely end up going absolutely nowhere in the end, but I am lying in bed typing in a creative fever so I may as well take it because it honestly hits all the right notes for me.

And I shall elaborate some elements of the new AU for you specially :) because I may be a bit delirious from being up so early:

- Caspar will still come from a rather poor background. In literally every iteration of his character, his family was living pretty much on their own or at least near a teeny, really spread out town. Not much by way of physical comforts, but enough for them to be quite content. I won't go too deeply into his family's fates just yet, I don't have the mental capacity this early in the morning, but a lot of the same lasting effects they have on him will remain.

- He adopts Eindride, but as a single dad instead of with Agnes. It's just comfier to use fewer characters sometimes. In defense of me, though, I shall elaborate sub-points as to why I think maybe I shall perchance stand firm in this decision:

a. In a modern context, Caspar wouldn't feel as compelled to marry someone just for Eindride to have the traditional mom-dad unit. Social expectations are different nowadays compared to those of a small, most likely Christian 1700s village.

b. I like her character, but the fact of the matter is that her dynamic with Caspar is a pattern he very consistently falls into:

Someone mostly prickly and maybe even cutting toward him shows him a little bit of kindness, he starts to get to know them and see them, and they him, despite their best efforts to hide their emotional turmoil and remain closed off, and he essentially decides "I'm staying <3", which breaks them open at one point or another, and they then become very close friends.

I kid you not, this happens so often. It’s a formula.

c. Lyall fills her role just as well, if not better because his dynamic with Caspar is quite possibly my most favorite of all. And the fact that their relationship lacks any romantic elements is also comfier for me, so, woo. (Platonic co-parenting, anyone?)

- Anyhow, picking up the family financial background thread from way back there: In a modern context, Caspar very likely dropped out of school himself to find paying work as soon as he possibly could to help support the fam. (Fate of whole family is not yet determined. Maybe Calder is still alive, but they aren't talking anymore.)

- Cas would totally work himself into the ground, finishing whatever education he'll need to in order for teaching qualification, just to continue working himself into the ground to help a gaggle of kids succeed in their own school careers and very likely their personal lives as well in addition to being a single dad with a kid who has trust issues.

- Am debating whether he'd teach elementary-grade levels or high school grade levels. Both present some interesting possibilities, but I imagine the education requirements of him would change because of that. Will research not-obsessively because this is just an AU and I am a normal person. :)

- Lyall in this AU will definitely still be a doctor coming from long line of doctors (on his mom's side). He's still a physician.

- With a compacted timeline, Lyall will be still married to Bryda and have two kids with her, and being in the thick of losing his connection with his family over his job--

- I should probably address the matter of where they are. Possibly still Curio, so the small-town rural-doctor bit for Lyall is still intact. Noice.

- Shan will be around too, then. Still regarded as the quirky, closed-off new kid in town, moved abruptly by her mom Ava out of a city.

- Now I need to decide if Caspar has been getting an education online or something?? Can you imagine though? Him, using a computer??? (I laugh, but he would make it work.)

- Really should perhaps research what it takes to became a grade-school teacher.

- I like the addition of little Eindride in this modern AU. He adds something nice here.

- Eindride would provide a reason for Caspar and Lyall to meet since Lyall is the only doctor in town essentially and Cas is, well, the dad and would need discussing/consulting with when it comes to his kid's wellbeing.

i may be running out of steam and should catch some more z's because I have been planning madly now for a full hour. It is now 4:30 AM. Will get back to this, but actually I wouldn't count on it, but I will try because I like this detour quite a bit at the moment.

#cc story #character thoughts #cc au #now see #I feel like oversharing an AU is immensely easier #because the AU is just an AU right? #it's not ACTUALLY going anywhere and nothing HAS to stick #so what's the hsrm in infodumping on THIS? #yeah I think I need sleep #um #reading back in the day #you can tell i woke up too early for this #liminal

[mahou-queen]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚lolita fashion then vs now: how the fashion has changed over the last decade ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

I started getting into lolita fashion in 2010 and so much has changed in the fashion since then. Trends, websites, community opinions, etc. So I thought we should take a look into the past and reminisce about lolita fashion since 2010~~

Everything below is based on my personal experience and perceptions in the egl community. These are not necessarily facts, and other lolitas may not agree or relate to everything stated below. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

✿❀Rectangle headdresses:

At the height of 2010-2012 sweet these types of headdresses were not in style. They were considered ita and absolutely taboo for new lolitas. At the time the community was trying really hard to separate themselves from lolita cosplay and maid cosplay which were both really popular at the time especially at cons where a lot of lolitas would also be. In recent years with the resurgence of old school lolita, rectangle headdresses are back in style and I personally couldn't be happier as I have always liked them. 

✿❀Animal ears:

Also considered ita and taboo for its associations with cosplay. Today we see a lot of animal ears, particularly bear and bunny, sometimes cat but not as much. Even big brands like angelic pretty are releasing animal ears regularly. While they can definitely still be ita if they are costume quality or irrelevant to a coord, they are definitely back in style and looking very cute

✿❀Chiffon half blouses:

The 2010 sweet era was all about cotton blouses. And while cotton blouses are still alive and well, these days we have the wonderful chiffon half blouse. Very comfortable, more size inclusive, light and pretty. These were not in style/ not widely available when i first got into lolita. 

✿❀Low collar blouses:

Absolutely existed, but were not as in as they are now. Peter pan collars and high necks were all the rage, these days with the prevalence of chiffon blouses, we are seeing a lot of slightly lower neck lines.

✿❀Chocolate explosion:

Around 2013, it seemed like every release was chocolate themed. All these chocolate prints came out in 2013:

Angelic Pretty started transitioning into “sweet classic” around 2014 which was when I took a break from the fashion. 

✿❀Split wigs:

Split wigs were super popular in the early 2010s both in natural and unnatural color varieties. These day some people would say they’re ita but I think the fashion has come to a really nice place of balancing old and new styles so many loltias still wear split wigs and wear them well. 

✿❀Circle lenses:

When i got into lolita it seemed like circle lenses were almost mandatory. They were a part of every makeup tutorial, every popular lolitas coord, circle lenses were everywhere. I could never wear them due to my astigmatism so I was always upset about circle lenses. I am glad to see they have not been prominent in recent years.

✿❀Replicas:

It seemed like replicas were everywhere, everyone had one, they were generally accepted, and promoted by other lolitas. Dream of lolita was making replicas of all the major AP prints and filled the pages at clobbaonline, oo jia was a facebook based brand that made the most convincing replicas available. Replicas still exist but since 2011 major bans have been placed on reselling them and reputable resellers stopped carrying them for the most part. They are not celebrated and most lolitas are against them now. 

✿❀RTBU:

Refuse to be usual was a taobao reseller on ebay in the early 2010s. Idk if they are still around but i know they up-charged more than twice the price of the item. Secret shop tea parties were going for $95 on rtbu. They had hit or miss reviews and a lot of people didn't trust them. I never bought from them but i did window-shop

✿❀The only real resellers were clobbaonline and qutieland:

Clobba did not have a full website, only a gallery where you had to place your inquiry and order via email. These days clobba has a fully functional website with a wishlist and shopping cart feature. Qutieland no longer exists. These days we have seemingly endless taobao reseller options of varying quality

✿❀Egl comm sales:

I never figure out how this worked because lacemarket took over not too long after i got into the fashion. But it was an entire second hand market being run out of livejournal. It seemed very Intricate

✿❀Bodyline:

Ohhh bodyline in the early 2010s. The lace monsters, mr yan, the sundries department, the items never restocked, good times. I have 3 bodyline main pieces these days and I love them and plan to keep them for as long as i'm in the fashion because they are cute, comfortable, and the prints look good. There was a time in the mid 2010s where bodyline and people who wore bodyline were scoffed at and everyone who had only burandoo thought they were better than everyone else. But these days with the booming lolita industry in china (on taobao) and even western brands getting bigger, the emphasis on brand is becoming less and less and what makes good lolita is based more upon actual quality and coordination skills and less on the tag. 

✿❀My old dream dress list:

I never got any of these and many of them would never fit me anyway. I did get sweetie violet but in lavender as I no longer like the sax colorway and I don't know why I ever did.

My favorite lolita online at the time was @herajika-blog

✿❀bonus:

Sweetrococo.com, does anyone remember this place? You could allegedly design a lolita dress yourself with any colors/prints/images from the internet and they would make it for you. I remember designing a my little pony skirt on the site for fun and not getting it because it was $200 LOL. I swear that site was a fever dream. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚as we can see a lot had changed in the lolita fashion community and trends over the last decade. Do you remember any of these things? What is your experience? I really enjoyed this trip through memory lane. And while sometimes i miss the times when i was just starting out, these days the lolita community is so much more accepting, more accessible, and more experimental. It doesnt even seem like there are trends right now, just that any trends are ok as long as theyre lolita. What do you think?˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

#lolita fashion #egl #j fashion #egl fashion #sweet lolita fashion #egl community #jfashion #sweet lolita #kawaii #then vs now #lolita history #op ed

[visionsofus]

Hey, my city has just been put into lockdown :( so I thought I might send a prompt... maybe something about some of the times Vision phases through Wandas wall? Idk but I hope you're well and I love your writing :)

hello! I am so sorry to hear that your city has been put into lockdown! I hope you are staying safe and looking after yourself. I bumped this to the top of my list so I could get you something nice to read quickly. It's mainly about Vision comforting Wanda but I hope it brings you some comfort too!

Mixtape track # 28: Time After Time cover by Theresa Sokyrka, Jesse Brown

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you

synopsis: Three times Vision phased into Wanda's room unannounced and found her in varying states of disarray/ injury. Aka a fluffy comfort fic for those of you who need it.

Warnings: mentions of blood and stitches, illness (flu), mild swearing

Vision was sitting at the kitchen counter, a novel before him when Steve hurried into the kitchen and began rooting through cabinets. Vision placed a finger to mark his page and glanced up in confusion.

“Is there something you need help with, Captain?” He asked, curious at Steve’s haste. The captain jumped visibly, and Vision looked down sheepishly. The team was yet to grow accustomed to his presence in the Compound and he was still learning to be something like human. It was a slow process.

“Vision,” Steve said, a hand pressed to his chest in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Vision nodded. “What are you looking for?”

“Cold and flu medicine,” Steve replied, turning back to the cabinets and pushing aside two different bags of coffee beans and a pot of sugar. His hand scraped around the back of the shelf to no avail. “I know we had some here somewhere.”

Vision tilted his head curiously. There weren’t many at the compound who could fall ill, Steve and himself included. Tony was away with Rhodey in New York for the weekend, Clint was with his family, and from what Vision knew of Natasha, she didn’t seem the kind of person to accept medicine.

That only left one other person in the enormous building he now called home.

“Is Wanda okay?” Vision asked his voice sound slightly strained, even to his own ears. He hadn’t quite mastered control over tone yet but was getting better at identifying such markers in other’s speech.

“She’s okay,” Steve mulled as he moved things around, moving to another cupboard. Vision heard the concern in his voice. Forgetting his page, he shut his book all thoughts now directed to Wanda. Where could she have contracted an illness? Perhaps it was overworking, of all of them, Wanda pushed herself the hardest. The last few weeks had been particularly rough with training every day, minor missions interstate, and relentless press appearances.

“Aha!” Steve cried in triumph, holding up a packet of cold and flu tablets.

“I can take them to her,” Vision said jumping to his feet and moving swiftly to Steve’s side, a glass in his hand ready to fill with water for Wanda. Steve jerked back a little, evidently, he was still not adjusted to the synthezoid’s super speed.

“Okay,” Steve sounded hesitant as he passed over the thin package. “Don’t smother her, alright? She’s not in a very good mood.”

“I won’t,” Vision said pleased as he filled up the glass with water and headed off down the corridor. As he walked, he quickly had a look at what ‘smothering’ meant – why Steve thought he might cover Wanda’s head with a pillow, Vision couldn’t understand. A little more looking revealed it could also mean overwhelm. Vision shook his head, he would make every effort to not overwhelm her, he just wanted to make sure she was comfortable and provide anything that might make her feel better.

Out of Steve’s sight, he hurried quickly down the corridor that led to Wanda’s bedroom. Once he was close enough to her bedroom he phased effortlessly through the wall, bringing the water and pills with him.

He arrived in her room to find that the lights were out and the curtains drawn despite it being mid-morning.

“Vision?” Wanda exclaimed, or tried to. Her voice cracked and she coughed most of the way through his name.

He hurried to the other side of her bed, concerned to see her covers pulled up to her chin even as sweat made her forehead shine.

“What did I saw about knocking?” Wanda said, her voice hoarse, her eyes struggling to stay open.

“That I should?” Vision said hesitantly.

Wanda murmured something in affirmation, and he felt guilty.

“Sorry, I will next time. I brought you some medicine.” He set the glass of water on her bedside table which was cluttered with tissues, empty glasses and unfinished books.

“Don’t need it, thanks,” Wanda murmured, turning onto her side.

Vision sighed. She looked dreadful, which was saying something as he rarely found her anything but beautiful. Concerned, he slowly reached out to press his hand to her forehead. Wanda shivered, feverish.

“You have a high temperature; the medicine will make you feel better.”

Wanda opened her eyes blearily and huffed in frustration. She heaved herself up to lean against the headboard and held a hand out for the pills. Vision popped two of the night pills into her palm before extending the water glass. She swallowed the medicine and shivered again.

“When did you start feeling bad?” Vision asked, trying to make conversation as he hovered about her room, not yet ready to leave her in such a state.

“Last night, but woke up feeling like the plague this morning,” Wanda mumbled, slipping back down onto the pillow. He moved forward to pull her pillow up so she was more comfortable.

“Okay, well we’ll keep an eye on your fever,” he said nervously more to himself, feeling the need to speak the instructions he had read about online aloud. But Wanda’s eyes were already closed, and it seemed she was relenting to an exhausted slumber.

Vision bit his lip, unsure if he were allowed to stay in her room while she was asleep. Glancing at her bedside table he decided to at least clean up on his way out. With the empty glasses stacked and the tissues in the bin he set about opening up a window a little bit to allow for some circulation. Even if Wanda felt cold, her fever needed to come down. Finally, unable to see a reason to stay Vision went over to adjust her blankets. Seeing that she was peacefully asleep he pressed his palm to her forehead, glad to feel that she felt a little bit less warm. She murmured something sleepily but didn’t wake.

Vision returned to her wall with the glasses in hand and phased through it once more, leaving Wanda to her fever dreams. For the remainder of the day, he kept a keen eye on Wanda, phasing through her wall each hour to take her temperature and replace her water glass. She remained asleep or at least didn’t acknowledge his care, though each time he left her mouth twitched up at the corners.

“Wanda!” Vision’s voice was a singsong as he phased through her bedroom wall, eager for their promised game of chess. He had taken up teaching her the game not long after he had learnt it himself. There was no one at the compound who could play that well but he always had fun with Wanda. Even when Vision knew all the tricks, she still surprised him. In exchange they had been following up each game with a few episodes of the Dick Van Dyke show. It was their Saturday night ritual now, though they had only known each other 6 months. Wanda had only just returned from the mission she had been on with Steve and Nat. Perhaps chess was off the table, but he hoped she would let him keep her company and watch some television. Vision struggled to understand how keenly he had felt her absence in the past week.

He phased through the wall and for a moment his sight was clouded. He emerged into the bedroom that he had slowly been acquainted with. Vision knew the view from her windows, the books on her desk, her guitar in the corner and the pattern of her bedsheets. His eyes checked off each of these features before looking to the bed. His heart dropped sickeningly when he caught sight of the figure laying atop the covers.

Wanda had propped herself against the headboard, her mouth twisted in pain as she nursed a gash that was bleeding all down her left arm.

“Wanda?” Vision whispered. Her eyes opened weakly, and she grimaced a smile.

“Hi.”

Vision was at her side instantly. “Hi? What do you mean hi? Are you okay what happened—”

“Shhh,” Wanda whispered, reaching out to grab his arm and squeeze. “Don’t want the others to know.”

“What do you mean?” Vision asked furiously. “You’re hurt, why didn’t you go the med bay when you got back?”

“Please,” she turned her eyes on him and he registered the pain behind her gaze. “Help me and I’ll answer any questions you want. I tried,” she gestured to the trail of thread she’d been using to stitch herself up with, “but my hands are too shaky.”

He ignored that she was half undressed, more focused on how her blood had soaked through the left side of her top and was dripping onto her bed. Vision spared less than a second before he was speeding away from her side. He trusted Wanda, if she said that she didn’t want the others knowing then he would wait to hear her reasoning. For now, he just wanted to alleviate her pain.

He thanked the gods for his super speed as he dashed down the corridor, down the stairs through two walls and into the empty med bay. He dipped in and out of the internet finding a reputable source for stitching up a wound even as he lectured himself for not understanding such an important procedure sooner. He grabbed more supplies, gauze and bandages, antiseptic and a fresh needle and tweezers. He sped back upstairs and arrived in Wanda’s room just as she was swiping tears away from her eyes.

“Sorry,” she winced, trying to sit up better as he set his supplies on her bedside table.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Vision said soothingly. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

“You weren’t supposed to see,” Wanda sighed, her eyes closed as he set about propping her arm up with a pillow and a fresh towel to mop up the blood.

“Lucky I entered without announcing myself then,” Vision murmured perching himself next to her tense body. He wasn’t usually squeamish and managed to maintain a distance when it came to gore. But seeing Wanda’s blood trickling down her arm had his heart thumping far too quickly. He took a few calming breaths.

Vision straightened her arm and watched her forehead contort in pain, sweat beading. Silently he took the medical scissors and cut off the thread and the mess Wanda had made of her wound. On closer inspection he was relieved to see it wasn’t too deep and that the blood had stopped flowing. He cleaned and numbed the area.

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” Vision murmured as he helped her sit up taller, so she was at a better angle for the stitches.

“Feels bad enough,” Wanda winced.

He frowned at her pain. “Tell me about your favourite episode of Dick Van Dyke,” Vision prompted as he set about threading the needle. Wisely, Wanda decided to turn her attention to her sweeping windows and the clouds drifting across the amber sky.

“Season 2, episode 20,” Wanda said. “It’s not necessarily my favourite but it’s the episode I’ve seen the most. Rob watches this movie with aliens and monsters, it was scary for me as a kid, but I found it funny how out of control it became—” Wanda broke off with a pained groan as Vision began the first stitch.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Now it doesn’t scare me but it’s still eerie...” she trailed off to prepare for the next stitch. Moments later it was done, and she breathed out slowly as Vision tugged the thread gently, closing the wound.

“— it’s interesting to look back on the episode and –” She thumped her other first on her thigh as the needle dug in once more.

“—and see how far my life has changed since I first watched it – oh fuck that!”

Vision startled, not used to hearing her swear. “Two more and it’ll be done,” Vision replied, conscious that he was leaning over her torso and that there might have been easier ways to sit for stitching up the gash.

“Two more?” Wanda sighed her right shoulder slumping in defeat.

“Almost there, almost there,” he murmured soothingly, starting on the next stitch. Wanda cried out, biting her fist. His heart twinged painfully in sympathy.

“You’re okay,” Vision said, doing his best to be comfortingly. “One more and then it’s done, one more and it’ll be over.”

He continued to murmur small comforts, hoping his voice would distract her from the thin metal dipping in and out of her skin. Despite her pain he had successfully kept the stitches neat and hoped that they’d be suitable enough for healing. At least he had used the thread that dissolved as the wound healed and she could avoid the new pain of having them taken out once more.

As he pushed the needle in for the final stitch Wanda’s head lolled against his neck. He froze in fear.

“I’m okay,” she whispered, “just, keep going.”

Her head remained pressed into the crook of his neck, her breath warming his skin in slow, controlled breaths. Vision did his best to focus on finishing off his work. He completed the final stitch, tied it up and cut the needle free. As he moved his materials to her bedside table and picked up the gauze, he became conscious of Wanda’s shoulders shaking slowly.

“Sorry,” she said quietly, her voice thick with tears.

“It’s alright, Wanda,” Vision said with a comforting smile, though she didn’t raise her head. He raised a hand and gently stroked the back of her head in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “I’ll wrap your arm up and give you something for the pain.”

Wanda sniffled against his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re the only one who can phase through physical walls.”

Vision smiled happily; glad Wanda couldn’t see his reaction.

Vision hovered; his hand raised to knock on Wanda’s bedroom door. He’d been standing there for a few moments debating on whether or not to disturb her when he’d heard the soft noises of Wanda’s cries. Vision knew how she sounded when she was upset. In the year they had been living together there had been a few nights he had spent sitting outside her door, listening to her cry and waiting for her to fall asleep. Often, all she’d allow him to do was bring her food or a cup of tea, insisting she be left to her sorrows. But Vision was struggling to bear it tonight. He worried that she thought herself a burden, that she locked herself up in her room on her bad days as a way to save the rest of the team from her anguish. But Vision hated seeing, or hearing, her pain.

Unable to wait any longer Vision side stepped the door and phased right through the wood. The room was dark, and the air was still, Wanda hadn’t left her bed all day. Quietly, Vision walked slowly to her bedside and crouched beside her curled up form. The covers were pulled up over her head, her arms wrapped around one of her cushions. His throat grew tight with emotion as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Wanda?” He whispered. The covers shifted and her head emerged, tear tracks looked as though they had made permanent lines down her face, dark circles hung under her eyes.

She didn’t say anything, just rolled over so that her back was to him.

“Is there anything that you need?” Vision asked removing his hand, hesitant to take her rejection, he’d wait until she explicitly asked him to leave. Wanda didn’t reply, her breath catching in her throat, and she shook her head slowly.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Vision said quietly.

“I don’t want to bother anyone,” Wanda whispered, her voice hoarse from not speaking. Vision raised to stand, hovering next to her bed. He desperately wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, to banish all her sadness and protect her from fear.

“You could never be a burden to me, it is a privilege to be a part of your life.” His words sounded raw, even to his own ears and he heard Wanda hiccup emotionally.

It didn’t take much, just her hand emerging from beneath the covers to tug at the hem of his woollen sweater. It was all he needed to know she wanted him to say.

She shifted to make room and Vision settled onto the bed next to her. Almost reluctantly, Wanda slid closer though her face was still hidden. When he was close enough, he pulled a blanket from the floor and wrapped it around her shoulders. She leant in, sniffling tearily. When he held his arms open, she hesitated for a few moments, her body stiff with tension. Finally, she relented, pressing her forehead into his shoulder and allowing him to wrap her in his warm arms. The tears started again, and he rocked them back and forth as she trembled.

“It’s alright,” Vision whispered over and over. He rubbed a hand in circles on her back, holding her close.

They remained that way for a while, Vision let her cry as much as she needed, not feeling the need to ask what was causing her such anguish. She would tell him when she was ready.

“When you’re feeling up for it, we can go for a walk,” Vision said soothingly, “there are wildflowers out by the woods, I even saw some bluebells the other morning. Maybe you can point out some other flowers you recognise to me. I think the birds miss you out there.” He talked slowly about small things, none of them important but gradually her sobs slowed into hiccups.

“Thank you,” Wanda whispered into his shoulders, her hands tangled up in his jumper.

“It’s okay,” Vision said softly, “just because your brain tells you you’re alone, doesn’t mean it’s true. There are so many people who care about you. Whenever you need me, I’ll always be here.”

#WandaVision fanfiction #scarletvision fanfiction #wanda x vision #scarletvision #wandavision #vision x wanda #mcu fanfiction #scarletvision fic #comfort fic #visionsofusfics #fluff and comfort

[tartagilicious]

[CN] Kiro’s Show Contract Date (eng translation)

✨kirp ✨  

⭐️ this date contains spoilers for a plot not released in English yet!

⭐️ sorry this took so long, doing my junior year of high school online was a very bad decision 😔

⭐️ dedicated to @kudoriee​ @flowerpoem​ & @elainabearie​ , who had to witness me freaking out about this date for two hours straight lol

— 

Seeing the clock advance further every minute, I finally took a deep breath and made up my mind.

MC: If you break the contract, you break the contract… I can’t disregard his health.

I picked up the phone and was about to make a call to Savin when an incoming call jumped onto the interface faster.

Kiro: Good morning, Miss potato chips!

MC: Did your fever go down today?

Kiro: Ah….After taking my medicine in the morning, my body temperature has stabled. My fever’s gone down and my condition is much better than yesterday.

MC: That’s good. You have a good rest Savin and I will take care of this aspect of the show.

Kiro: Well, I know the boss is the best.

MC: In short, you still have to take your medicine today, so please pay attention to the time…

Kiro: I know, I know.

I urged a few more words out of him, but just as I was about to hang up, other voices suddenly seemed to come from the other end of the receiver.... The voices of Kiki and Anna?

MC: Wait wait, kiro, where are you now? Are you at home?

Kiro: Hey, you already heard it. Then should I just come directly in?

As soon as Kiro’s words fell, the door of the office next to me opened, and bright golden hair and his bright smiling face leaped into my eyes. His blue eyes are clear as promised, but the faint sickness under his eyelashes cannot be hidden.

Kiro hung up the call and cleared his throat.

Kiro: Although I said it on the phone, I have to say it again in person: good morning, Miss potato chips~

MC: Kiro?! Why did you come to the company?

Kiro: Of course, it’s because I have to come! Don’t I have to go to a show today?

MC: I was just about to contact Savin to talk about this. Should we cancel this big show?

Kiro: But if the business refuses to perform, won’t you get a big penalty?

MC: You don’t need to comment on the liquidated damages. You need to rest now. If this performance makes you more sick, we’ll have a real problem then. Your health and safety are the first and most important things to me.

Kiro: ...___

He watched me seriously and abruptly smiled.

Kiro: I’m really happy that you care so much about me, but I still want to participate in this big show. First of all, because I prepared a lot for this performance, I don’t want to give up so easily; secondly, um…

Kiro seemed to be unable to think of the second reason. His eyes were so wide for a minute that he grabbed my hand.

Kiro: Secondly, I’ll always do things that make you think I am doing the best, so… trust me.

When we arrived at the show, the place had already begun intensive preparations. Models gathered in the backstage, and everyone was looking gorgeous and brilliant. When Kiro walked in, it was obvious that his mask still covered most of his face, but everyone’s eyes were still chasing the bright light subconsciously.

Reporter: Kiro is coming!

Model: It’s Kilo!

Savin: Sorry, let’s go, let’s go-!

Seeing that various forms of media were coming forward, Savin hurriedly cleared the way ahead and sent Kiro and I into a single dressing room.

Savin: ___, I’ll go to communicate with the stagehands over the specific performance situation, please help me with Kiro.

MC: Ok, leave it to me here.

Kiro: Leave it to me too!

As Kiro said this, he gave Savin a saluting gesture.

I can’t help but laugh, and my nervousness eased slightly along the way. He took off his mask and let out a long breath.

Kiro: Then I'll change clothes first, see you soon!

MC: Okay!

Taking advantage of Kiro’s time to change, I got hot water in the meantime. After he came out of the dressing room, I put a cup of tea in his hand.

Kiro: This is..

MC: Although you say that you’ll be strong, your voice may not necessarily listen to you.

Kiro laughed after hearing my mumble.

Kiro: Maybe I can find new ways to sing and develop new songs after losing my voice…

MC: Don’t even think about it. I don’t want to have a broken voiced Kiro.

I glared at him pretending to be angry, and Kiro’s mouth was tangled, but he obediently took the glass in my hand and drank it.

MC: And along with that, you also need this.

I took out a box of lozenges from my bag and poured one into his hand.

MC: This, you should have one. Some time ago, I had countless experiences, and I depended on them to continue in life, otherwise I might be the inexperienced one today.

Kiro: Were you that busy some time ago?

MC: Yes, the company had to expand its enrollment again, and I saw countless scenarios again, I always felt like I was busy.

Kiro: But when I called you the day before yesterday, you said that you weren’t busy. Miss potato chips, this is being a bad head of staff, obviously you’re still better than me.

He stretched out his voice and “condemned” me. I quickly raised my hands and surrendered, turning the subject away.

MC: Okay, I was wrong anyway… You eat the lozenges first!

Kiro: You’ve got yourself a deal.

He put the candy in his mouth, his cheeks bulging like a hampster.

Kiro: This is also my favourite flavour!

For this big show, Kiro will sing two songs, one is the opening song and the other is the middle warm-up. The two songs are in a different pitch and style. Perhaps thanks to the lozenges, Kiro was in a very stable state during the afternoon rehearsal.

He even has the extra energy to discuss with the director how to integrate into the catwalk better and how to present a more gorgeous stage presence. He still looks energetic and he doesn’t have the appearance of someone performing while sick.

Until the end of the first song of the formal performance in the evening, while preparing for the second warm-up song, I took his temperature again. But, the results this time had me shocked.

Looking at the abnormal value on the thermometer, my heart was pounding, and I couldn’t help but call out to him.

MC: Kiro, you, how are you?

Kiro: Hmm? I’m fine.

His eyes were slightly out of focus. He raised his attention after hearing my question, but his reaction was obviously slower than usual. My worry fell into his sapphire eyes clearly, and he blinked.

Kiro: Is ___ worried about me?

MC: I’ve been worried about how you’re doing!

I handed him the anti-fever medication, and watched him drink the water in the cup without leaving a single drop. I couldn’t help but whisper,

MC: You promised you wouldn’t overwork yourself.

Kiro: You also promised to believe in me. Don’t worry, although I can’t play a lively concert for three hours, I can sing one more song!

He poses a few times like a superhero, but the makeup artist behind him pats his arms and signals for him not to move. Kiro stuck out his tongue, and suddenly seemed to think of something.

Kiro: By the way, can Miss potato chips give me another lozenge? I want to clear my throat again.

Kiro, who couldn’t move, opened his mouth to me confidently. But the cunning blue eyes obviously expose his intent -- it was deliberate. I reluctantly took out the bag and delivered the throat lozenge to his mouth. Kiro quickly took it away with his teeth, but accidentally rubbed away the lipstick on his mouth.

MC: Oops, the makeup is a little smudged! Don’t move and I’ll wipe it away for you….

As I said this, I quickly stretched out my hand, wanting to erase the blemish. Kiro’s face was so close that I could tell, the concealer perfectly covered his illness, and the foundation hid his weakness. In order to fit the stage makeup ordered by the big show, his already stunning face was carved into an even more beautiful face, and almost all signs of exhaustion were cut off.

Only when my fingertips touch his lips can I clearly feel his warm breath. It is as vivid as ever. I carefully erased that little flaw, and with satisfaction looked back at it.

MC: Alright, the prosperous beauty Kiro Zhou, you’re freshly baked!

Kiro looked at himself in the makeup mirror and raised his eyebrows.

Kiro: How many people do you think can handle being charmed by such a beautiful Kiro in one time?

MC: You’ve fascinated everyone in the city in a radius of about 500 miles!

The staff all around laughed at this sentence, and Kiro’s eyes flashed lightly, as if to say something, but in the end he didn’t speak. The staff came and knocked on the door to the dressing room, indicating that the next runway show was about to begin.

I finally adjust the decorations on his clothes, but I can’t help but say a few more words.

MC: If you feel uncomfortable in your throat, don’t force anything. You can do a lower tone. I believe in you as long as you try your best in your current state.

I spoke very firmly and honestly, and I knew he would understand what I meant.

Kiro: That… Miss potato chips, please come and cheer for me.

He opened his hands to me calmly, and I took into account the look he had just taken care of, and just wanted to give him a hug. In the next second, his powerful palm is placed on my back and I’ve received a full hug.

MC: Ki--

Kiro’s heavy head rested on my shoulder, and his hot breath brushed my ears, making my heart thump loudly.

Kiro: I don’t need the attention of everyone within 500 miles, as long as you watch me.

His voice is very soft, but it made my heart beat violently in my chest.

Kiro let go of me and raised his hand towards me, only to have me realise that at some point the box of lozenges were in his hand.

Kiro: This is my lucky item today, let it accompany me on stage!

After speaking, he put the sugar in his pocket, and amidst the sound of music and grand applause, he walked towards the runway. The prelude sounded, and the light followed him with his slowly moving footsteps. When Kiro hummed the first note, I had no choice but to pay attention like the others, completely immersed in his musical world.

He didn’t drop or change the key, but his slightly hoarse voice gave the old song a new charm. Models now wore new costumes of varying styles, passing by him like flowing water. It’s like countless planets orbiting the stars, and Kiro is the brightest one in the universe called the stage. At any time, it’s obvious that I’ll be pulled in by the gravity of Kiro.

The big show ended smoothly with a round of applause.

I just wanted to go to Kiro, but I met a media party who I had cooperated with before and had to accept a short interview offer. When I finally got out, I happened to see the most eye-catching figure in the crowd.

MC: Kiro!

Kiro was surrounded by models, and though he turned his head back to me, he didn’t seem to hear my call.  The models finished taking a photo with him, watched him eagerly, and handed a signature pen to him. After he finished signing, the group still didn’t leave, but asked something of him yet again.  

I hesitated, and when I didn’t know whether to call him again, Kiro seemed to sense something and turned to me. The moment he saw me, his eyes lit up and he waved at me. As I walked over, Kiro pointed to his throat innocently.

Kiro: I’m uncomfortable, ___, please come and be my translator.

Hearing his voice muffled, my heart immediately dropped.

MC: What do you want me to say?

He came close to my ear and whispered something.

Kiro: The casting of the new music video…

I suddenly realised.

MC: They want to fight for roles?!

Kiro: Now that they’ve seen the menacing male protagonist, of course they want to create an opportunity for themselves.

MC: I understand.

I smiled and expressed my gratitude to the models for their love of Kiro, and then I changed the topic and said to them in a more business-like tone:

MC: Kiro needs rest now. As for work, please ask your agent to get into contact with his. Besides, it’s not a matter if casting so much as it is something that can’t be settled in a short time

The models glanced at each other and were too embarrassed to interrupt, apologised to both of us, and left. After they were far away, I heard a light laugh from behind me.

Kiro: ...It seems that this trick is quite useful.

His voice clung to my ears with the fresh scent of candy on his breath, his words clear. I reacted instantly.

MC: So your voice isn’t hoarse at all!

Kiro: Shhh, keep your voice down! It’s hard enough to get everyone to leave, do you want them to come back? And with my “boss” as my aid, they’re too embarrassed to come and chat with me.

I looked around and found that indeed no one was trying to come over and talk to him. Maybe Kiro had great acting skills, because even his eyes after the show were a little sympathetic.

MC: Well, that’s reasonable… but what are we going to do now?

Kiro: Didn’t you just say you were tired? Let’s find a place to rest!

After speaking, he hooked my finger and quietly led us out of the venue together. No one was in the dressing room, and Kiro finally let out a sigh of relief after closing the door. Under the iridescent lights, even with heavy makeup, you can still the fatigue in his eyes.

MC: Kiro, have you been holding on okay?

Kiro: No, that’s why I asked you for help.

Kiro nodded arrogantly and pulled me into the dressing table.

Kiro: cough! I'm dizzy, flushed and can't lift my hands anymore. could i please trouble ___ to remove my makeup?

He blinked as he spoke, and his pupils were so bright that I couldn’t find any reason to refuse.

MC: Then sit down, and I’ll look for something to remove the makeup.

I searched for makeup remover and cotton pads in the makeup cabinet, washed my hands, pushed my hair behind my ears, leaned down slightly, and motioned for Kiro to close his eyes. When he raised his head, the glitter and tich colours at the centre of his eyes were soaked in lotion -- revealing the original skin tone.

It was as if the most exquisite porcelain had been burnt for a moment, his fair complexion showing a strange flush. My heart tightened and I almost blurted out advice.

MC: Kiro, you really need to take a good rest… I’ll tell Savin to push back all of the work ahead of you.

Kiro: In fact, Savin has already promised to let me take a short vacation, so i estimate that you’ll receive word in a while.

MC: Fortunately, this time I’ll let him supervise your itinerary and put you at home for a good rest.

Kiro: Just rest?

MC: ..What else?

Kiro: Since getting a holiday is rare, it’s better to have a little fun.

MC: Interesting.

Kiro: Yes! I bought the limited edition of the game that was released last month, but I haven’t opened the packing yet; there’s also a particularly good looking comic that i’ve stocked up on, and this time i can catch up; and you can catch up on the new episode of my TV series that aired a few days ago!

He used his fingers to count every single activity he could so one by one, and I couldn’t help but rub the tip of his nose with the cotton pad.

MC: Then let the bag of lozenges and your cello also accompany you?

Kiro: That’s better! But well,.. This kind of vacation can only be regarded as substantial, and is a bit short of being “fun”.  It would be more interesting if the video game could be completed as a team; if a TV series and comic books can be consumed with someone to talk about them with, it will be more interesting. When cats tease dogs, I think they’ll eventually become friends.

Kiro opened his eyes, and my reflection was clear in his bright pupils.

Kiro: I think that would be “interesting”.

Kiro looked at me seriously and made a genuine invitation.

Kiro: So in the coming times, will Miss potato chips continue to be my “translator”?

Being watched by such a pair of gentle eyes, it is impossible for anyone to look away, let alone say a word of rejection. The interesting life he constructed is also the interesting life I've experienced.

MC: Ok.. the “translator” may not work around the clock, but I can come after I get off work and I can be your “fun explorer”.

When he heard the first half of the sentence, Kiro’s brows furrowed, but after I finished speaking, he smiled again.

Kiro: Then I have to listen carefully, what’s a “fun explorer”?

MC: The literal meaning is that I’ll do everything that you want to do with you.

Kiro: Really?

MC: Yes! But for the sake of your voice, this explorer will strictly supervise you during the vacation, and you aren’t allowed to eat any heavy sweets!

Kiro: Ah, why’s this? I still want to secretly have a snack party with you!

Kiro pretended to be frustrated and extended the ending sound of his words, but did not refuse my concerns.

Kiro: Then let’s promise, we’re now holiday partners!

He stretched out his hand and pressed my thumb to his. It seems to have stamped an agreement that spans time in my heart.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mr love queen’s choice #mlqc kiro #mr love queen’s choice kiro #translation #spoilers #恋与制作人 #恋与制作人 周棋洛

[arch-venus25]

The Head and the Heart, Part 1

Hello everyone,

I am submitting this for @just-the-hiddles‘s The Damnit Jim, I’m A Vampire, Not A Landlord Fic Frenzy. I chose prompt “1....You can pay your rent in money or in blood.” I was inspired by all the prompts and will probably use them throughout the series. Basically I use the prompts as guide-lines.

This is the first time I have written and shared a fic online-- or ever really! It’s also the first time I’ve written anything modern so please let me know what you think! I hope I’m posting this correctly--I created the title art--LOL I’ve never done this before. I’m aiming to update the series each Tuesday. So here we go... 

Series Masterlist: The Head and The Heart

Summary: The twins are taking a night off from their graduate studies-- or at least Tessa is; her twin sister, Antha, is just trying to keep her out of trouble. What starts as a night of good old-fashioned fun and flirting quickly changes as they find themselves at the doorstep of the Hollow House Bed and Breakfast.

Characters: OFCs Antha and Tessa King, original characters/vampires

WARNINGS: 18+ for suggestive themes and violence, cursing, implied drug use, implied rape, stressful/scary situations, vampires, and characters with incredible hair-- you’ve been warned. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 2770

Part One: Faced with Foolishness

         “Well, you know Tessa, she’s being Tessa,” Antha murmured into her phone as she watched her twin sister cozy up to her flavor of the month; Tessa flipped her box braids off her shoulder, the beaded ends flirtatiously tinkling against every surface they met. As if watching a photo negative version of herself, Antha mourned her nonexistent reputation. Had she not spent years hiding in her books she may have been able to rival her uninhibited doppelganger in white hot-pants.

        “Why do you let her do this to you? It never goes as planned, and next thing you know I’ll be cleaning you two up and feeding you McDonald’s at two thirty in the morning!” She didn’t need facetime to picture Doug wincing through the phone, pushing his Buddy Holly styled Ray-Bans up the bridge of his nose.

        “So what you’re saying is how could I let Tessa do this to you?” She laughed, rolling her Havana twists through her fingers to fight off the June humidity. Talking to her best friend helped her forget just how long she had been holding it in line to the bathroom.

         “Ant, look I don’t like that bar—you want me to come get you?”

         “And leave her? I can’t do that—listen, if we don’t call you for a ride home by midnight just come get us. I’m exhausted and I don’t think she will party that long. Besides, you-know-who just showed up.” She watched as Franco the Flake appeared, wasting no time to linger over her sister—Tessa’s flavor of the month, forgotten within an instant. Antha’s eyes rolled like marbles as she turned away to better hear her friend on the phone; some fraternity boys nearby began fist-pumping into the air as the bartender served up a line of shots for them.

         “Ugh, the Flake… well I can hear things are getting started on your end—I’ll keep my phone on me, just don’t drive. Leave her car and I’ll get you two—there’s maniacs out there especially on Friday night.” He warned.

        “I owe you,” she groaned and hung up. Antha finally arrived in the ladies’ room, only two women away from her sweet release. She watched as the women cornered the mirror like crazed wanton things, bending and zhuzhing, adjusting their “girls” to their perkiest potential through scantily low apparel.

        “Heeeyy…” She quietly greeted the woman that exited the nearest stall. The stranger gave her a haughty elevator eye from head to toe making her feel severely underdressed for a Friday night out. When she threw on a sun dress today, she never anticipated her sister would abduct her after class and have them gallivanting across town. Tessa’s exact words were “Godamnit Ant, tonight we’re gonna have fun if it kills us!” A Cheshire Cat grin spread across her face as she floored the accelerator of her Neon, then cranked up the bass as the radio station started their basement remixes. Fun if it kills us.

        Antha stared at her white sandals, her nail polish was chipped and at least three weeks old. Then she looked to her messenger bag hanging on the back of the door. It was covered in Community College film badges and club stickers, per her friend’s preferences. Antha liked her graffitied messenger bag. Like a billboard, it made her appear she had a life outside of her graduate studies.

        She should have been at home, text books spread on her lap, feet up. She could hear Doug’s old Buick coughing its way up Momma’s drive, then fumbling outside the door, trying to knock with a third of Popov, case of Dogfish Head, and pizza in his arms. Then he would throw everything on the coffee table and announce “I brought Casablanca!” to which she would say “Oh, more white people movies?” and unphased, he would reply “Good god woman, it’s not Birth of a Nation!” Antha smiled, thinking of their weekly ritual of pretending to do research while gossiping long into the night until Zoey and Tessa would drunkenly Uber home. The distinct shamble, like the walking dead, would scrape up the gravel drive signaling their arrival.

        “Hey, you almost done in there?” An annoyed voice yelled over the door, cutting through her reminiscing. Antha could see the reds of the stranger’s eyes between the door crack.

         Instead of lounging on the couch surrounded by good beer and even better friends, Antha found herself being hustled by some Fireball-turned-up twat—all under the guise of having fun. “Yeah, sorry about that.” She replied and flushed. She tightened the belt holding in the billowy fabric of her flowy, mid-thigh, sunflower-printed sundress. It was passed down from her grandmother to her mother and so on. Looking like she walked off the set of a 90’s music video, she admitted that at least she was cooler than the other girls sweating in their skin-tight jeans and heels.

        Some pretty young thing burst through the door past the line and vomited into the trash bin next to Antha while she washed her hands. It was only nine o’clock. That was a bad omen. When she caught her reflection in the mirror, she realized she pouted just like Momma in those sorts of situations. She dampened a paper towel for the poor thing and could hear her mother’s words repeating in her head: “When you’re faced with foolishness—you take care of it.” Her mantra: Take care of it. Antha’s mantra: Do what Momma says. Tessa’s mantra: If it ain’t fun don’t do it.

        Antha applied her vanilla lip gloss as she thought on her mother. She made a promise as Momma was lowered in the ground that they would graduate. It was her dying wish that the twins became modern women with college degrees and to have options; to escape the laboring of farming and perhaps even the rinse and repeat of corporate Delaware. That’s all there was in their state: Farming or banking.

        She tucked her shoulder-length braids behind her ears; she truly missed her dreadlocks, but ever since the time Tessa’s boyfriend mistook her for his girlfriend, she cut them off. She was always the one to compromise. Not tonight she decided. Tonight was going to go her way. They would wrap up this foolishness by midnight.

        Antha sighed and knew it was time to face the havoc of the bar when a chatty patron pawed at her sundress asking if it was “vintage”. She replied, “Well it’s old as hell if that’s what you mean,” and hurried out the ladies’ room into the sweltering cacophony of nightlife.

        Fighting across sticky tile and sweaty rednecks she made a beeline for the bartender. “Mar, can I get two?” She bounced on her tip-toes to cut through the crowd huddled around the length of the tacky wooden bar. Maria motioned to the other side because she couldn’t reach through. Antha continued to fight her way through the herd. She could barely hear over the din of the 2016 campaign commercials and sportscasting when Maria slid two cocktails toward her. The southern comfort and coke cocktails reeked with vanilla syrup, Tessa’s favorite. Antha stared into the melting rail drinks and realized she didn’t know what to order herself because she was always the water-boy for her twin.

        “Hey, did you see what’s-his-face is in town?” Maria interrupted her thoughts.

        “Sure did.” She groused and tilted her head in the general direction of where she saw Tessa and Franco last. Through the bodies, for a moment, the crowd parted and the two stared.

        Stepping back from her esteemed role as the older sister, by barely two minutes, Antha admitted to herself that Tessa always looked good. Her off-the-shoulder top exposed a flawless ebony collarbone, shoulder blades, and arms. As if she was the Queen of Sheba incarnate, her tiny wrists were decorated with gold bangles. Her earrings matched the beads in her hair, reflecting light in her hazel eyes. A waterfall of thick box braids fell down her back and over her shoulders, past the tops of her thighs. Her years of dance complimented the country-chic white cut-offs that revealed just a hint of under cheek when she bent across the billiard table.

        “If I were a man, I’d pray for her to bite my head off quick and painless.” Maria laughed, her ponytail frizzing from the heat of her work; her hands rapidly dipping then shining high ball glasses.

        “But that’s not her style.” Antha replied wryly.

        “You’re both good girls. Now you keep her out of as much trouble as you can—I’ll send Kyle ‘round to your table with beers, just let me catch up here!”

        Maria was right: they were good girls. All of Tessa’s shenanigans aside, she never forgot cake for a birthday and with everyone’s break-ups she always had a bottle of Jack stashed with a shoulder to cry on. Tessa was the one that painted Antha’s nails and always lent her the best outfits when the event called for it. On occasion she was even known to deliver soup when her sister ran a fever.

        Tessa was the heart of the operation and Antha couldn’t begrudge her just because she was the head.

        For better or worse, they were sisters.

        Antha reluctantly clutched the chilled drinks and felt a pang of relief in the sweltering bar. She couldn’t see her sister at the billiard table with the onslaught of shuffling patrons, so she decided to move toward her booth. She narrowly missed being covered in appletini as the DJ scratched in one more summer top ten into his rotation. Before she could move forward a voice pinned her in place.

        “Your sister’s the worst, you know that?” A nice-looking guy glared at her. His teeth gleamed pink in the red bar lights. Antha bet he had a handsome smile on account of those white teeth, but he was not smiling now. She squinted through the hazy dance floor and recognized him as the guy Tessa arrived with before Franco appeared.

         “Hey John, don’t fret, Tessa’s just catching up with an old friend—he comes into town every so often, don’t get upset.” She yelled back at his face as kindly as she could manage over the blare of the oncoming band tuning their instruments. For some reason he didn’t seem to believe her and his chest instinctively puffed up.

        “John? I’m José!” He replied. Antha felt embarrassed for both her sister and herself. She grimaced unintentionally, realizing she had said it all with very few words.

        She tried to defend their position with a weak excuse. “José, I’m bad with names and faces—” but he stormed off before she could piecemeal a string of bullshit. There goes another Mr. Last Month.

        This was having fun. Antha doing damage control on last month’s flame, while Tessa stoked a new one. All of the nice memories of her sister evaporated in the heat of the interaction. She grumbled to herself, as she had grown tired of babysitting, not just Tessa but the men-children she dated. When she finally confirmed her party’s booth, she parted the shadowy sea of basic bitches.

        Tessa was giggling like a school girl when her sister dropped the sweaty glasses onto the ratty old table. Franco at her neck like a leech. I hate this guy, Antha thought to herself. He turned his hot gaze on her, “Hi Antha, didn’t see you there.” His drawl was thick like humidity. She thought about giving her drink to Tessa’s date, but now that she could see he was it, she plopped down and selfishly sipped one of the nasty cocktails without offering the second.

        “Oh hey Brian,” she said playfully, “where’s your camera?”

        “Ant, now you know this is Franco, stop playin’!” Tessa tore her eyes away from him for a split second, but after she threw her daggers she was back ogling him like a dog does a bone.

        “Sorry, it’s hard to keep all these blue-eyed, blond, gentlemen straight.” Antha marginally resisted saying yokel under her breath.

        Tessa had a type. Beyond all logic, light eyes were the buckle in her knee, the hitch in her breath; and Franco was at the top of her list. Antha assumed he was the Porsche in her garage amongst a long list of Ford’s, but she honestly didn’t know the whole story. All she knew was that Franco showed his face sparingly and only after dark. He would disappear for weeks at a time, which earned him the endearment The Flake.

        Now, Antha hadn’t dated enough men in her young life to sort them by color and size, but Tessa had. To her credit, her tastes were diverse, she did her research and knew what she liked. No one blamed her either. With that hair and those legs, Tessa could have anyone she wanted. The great appeal of Franco didn’t add up to Antha though. She found him suspicious. She thought his truck was too loud, his jeans too torn, and his eyes much too heavy.

        Franco made idle conversation, inquiring after the twins’ classes as if he cared. His blond, three-quarter parted hair was glossy under the dim lights. When he pulled his tooth pick from the back of his ear and chewed on it, it made him look like an old-fashioned mobster—well until that Delmar twang spilled out of his hillbilly mouth. There was an allure about him; all of his parts matched, but his smile unglued those pieces. A smile that never quite reached his eyes.

        Antha found herself sizing him up, drinking the disgusting cocktail faster than she wanted. I bet he has plastic zip ties and rope in his truck bed, she thought. She didn’t truly know why the image popped into her mind, it was just a feeling she got when his eyes were on her; made her feel like a snack, as if he would eat her alive right where she sat. No more Unsolved Mysteries for me this week, she insisted to herself.

        “Mmmm-hmmm.” Was the best response she could offer when he spoke to her directly. Tessa continued chatted about her business management courses as he deeply stared at her. Antha figured there was no real room for her in the conversation so she took out her world cultures text and flipped to her last page. She liked hanging out, however her final thesis was demanding all of her energy. The page fell open to vampires in the section of Egyptian mythology. She thought how ironic as her eyes shot up at the man sitting across from her.

        “So, there’s this bonfire by Slaughter Bay, I thought you ladies could come with.” Franco suggested lazily like it was too exclusive to be excited about. “You can shotgun babe and we can put Antha and her friends in back.” He eyed the textbooks growing damp on the table. Antha finished the first SoCo and started the second just to cope with him. “You could call up the girls.”

        “Zoey… Zoey... Zoey!” Tessa dramatically said into her drink and then laughed. Antha couldn’t help but smirk as Tessa explained to him her girlfriend was like Candyman and could be summoned via a pint of beer. The joke was partially lost on Franco.

        Before Tessa could agree to go Antha piped up, a little less shy now that her liquid courage had kicked in. “Sounds awfully romantic, but we can’t.” Before she could continue she was interrupted.

        “Hey girl haaayyyy!” Zoey appeared as if out of thin air and snatched one of the beers sent over by the bartender. “You goin’ nowhere without me—not after I Ubered across town!” Her two rando friends hollering and sloshing their drinks.

        “How the hell do you do that?” Antha insisted, amazed that their friend appeared.

        “Uhhhh, never you mind—we can make bonfire plans later—its ten o’clock, I’m here and Bieber is playing! GET UP!” Zoey declared, the glitter from her eyes dusting every surface.

        “Keep an eye on my friends.” Antha told Franco as she abandoned her books to be dragged to the floor. This was the moment she decided she was getting them all out of there; she didn’t like the sound of a bonfire with him and she certainly wasn’t allowing Tessa to go on her own either. She sent a pre-written text message to Doug: “Get here.” Which was their code for its really going down, I need back up.

Twinning Taglist: If you want to be added or removed just let me know; please share with anyone that might be interested. I would love any and all feedback so I can learn and become a better writer. Thank you!  I tagged some people that I thought would be interested in this. @myoxisbroken @just-the-hiddles @vodka-and-some-sass @nildespirandum @yespolkadotkitty @latent-thoughts @emeraldrosequartz @villainousshakespeare @hopelessromanticspoonie @caffiend-queen @poetic-fiasco @lokimostly @dianamolloy @marvelgirlonamarvelworld @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0 @cateyes315 @mooncat163 @nuggsmum @plastic-heart @myraiswack @wolfpawn​

#landlord vampire fic frenzy #twinning vs vamps #arch-venus25 writes

[oasisspringstownie]

FAME: A Legacy Challenge

Sul sul simmers!

Like many of you, one of my favorite things to do in The Sims is play Legacy Challenges. They lead you to explore new aspects of gameplay, give you new imaginative ideas, and facilitate storytelling. So, a couple of nights ago I got the idea to create a new kind of legacy challenge revolving around different aspects of fame.

The goal isn’t exactly to become the most famous using said career/ skill, but to play around with different elements of the fame system in the game. You by no means need all the packs to play through this legacy. While the experience would be more complete and you will be missing careers and skills and stuff you can obviously adapt it to your need. Also, you are more than welcomed to use mods to enrich your gameplay. I myself can’t play without mods and look forward to see what kind of chaos mods can add to this challenge.

So without further a do below are the 10 generations I concocted like a fever dream at 2 am on a Saturday evening:

Gen 1: A Shaky Foundation

Traits: Cheerful, Ambitious, Self-Absorbed

Career: Acting, Style Influencer (Trendsetter Branch)

You move to a new city full of hopes and dreams. You initially pursue your dream of becoming an actor. However, your career is cut short by the unexpected arrival of your first child. You retreat from the spotlight in order to raise your baby and put all of your energy into making sure they have the best future possible. The rest of the time you spend either working or trying to unwind from your demanding life. What will fate bring you and your descendants?

Goals:

Move into an empty lot with 1600 simoleons for the bare minimum.

Start in the Acting Career, but abandon it for the Style Influencer career once your first child is born. Remain in the Style Influencer Career and eventually choose the Trendsetter Branch.

Max out the Style Influencer Career.

Reach level 10 of the Parenting and Wellness Skills.

Be close friends with all of your children and make sure they each age up with at least 2 positive character attributes.

Gen 2: Get Your Head in the Game

Traits: Active, Music Lover, Outgoing

Career: Athlete, Entertainment (Musician Branch)

Your parent might have seemed very overbearing at the time, but they instilled a work ethic in you like no other. Your entire life you were split between your two passions: basketball and singing. Okay, fine, you're Troy Bolton. After succeeding in the sports world you still find yourself feeling somewhat unfulfilled. You enter the entertainment career later on in life to live out your dreams. Will this be the start of something new?

Goals:

Max out the Athlete Career and then switch to the Entertainment Career (Musician Branch).

Max out the Fitness and Singing Skills.

Be in the drama club in high school.

Gen 3: Going for the Stars

Traits: Clumsy, Loner, Genius

Career: Astronaut

Your parent always told you to shoot for the stars, you just took it a bit too seriously. This world was always a bit too pedestrian for you and you yearn to finally lay your eyes on the astronomical craters of Sixam. There's just one problem: you're terrible at it. It's not your fault, you're just a bit clumsy; but will your two left feet keep you from reaching your dreams?

Goals:

Work in the Astronaut Career your entire life. Get demoted and fired at least once in your lifetime.

Destroy and repair a rocket 3 times.

Live in a tiny home for your young adulthood and adulthood.

Have at least one set of twins. *You can cheat for this!*

Gen 4: The Finer Things in Life

Traits: Materialistic, Hates Children, Lazy

Career: None

You've seen all the generations before you work their little pixelated butts off for every simoleon, but you're not about that life. You were destined for the finer things in life.

Goals

Reach level 10 of the Charisma and Mixology Skills.

Marry and survive 5 spouses. Take that wording however you want. Divorce is not allowed. You must be the last once standing. After all, spouses are like infinity stones. Meaningless.

Never have a job. Only make money from spouses, family, or children. If you get desperate enough you can ask a friend for a loan or steal, but no working of any kind.

Each child you decide to have with one of your rich spouses comes with a 20k trust fund. If they get taken away or die before coming of age, all the money has to be returned to the evil capitalist overlords. You can't get rid of them that easily.

Own at least 1 restaurant/ retail/ business with one of your spouses. Decorate it, assign the uniform, and hire everyone, but you never run it. Why would you go through the trouble?

Gen 5: My Precious

Traits: Art Lover, Kleptomaniac, Self-Assured

Career: Criminal

Your childhood was pretty hectic and you felt like you barely knew your parents. Who needs them? You've never needed anyone else anyway. On your 18th birthday, you receive your inheritance and use it to buy yourself an unfurnished apartment in the nicest building you can find and that's when your money runs out... literally. However, will a new job as a tough guy be the first of many great ideas or will it only be the beginning of the end for this famed family?

Goals

Once you become a young adult give yourself enough money to buy one of the apartments in the Uptown Neighborhood in San Myshuno. It must be unfurnished. After moving in set your money to 0 simoleons.

Complete the Criminal Career.

Reach level 10 of the Mischief and Dancing Skills.

Gain an atrocious reputation and spend the rest of your life trying to cover it up.

Steal 10 paintings from a museum and exhibit them proudly in your home. You are never allowed to sell them. As an adult, hide them in a secret attic nobody else has access to or knows about. They are your precious.

Gen 6: The Muses

Traits: Creative, Family Oriented, Insider

Career: Painter

You could have anything you wanted in the world thanks to your family's empire so you pursued your passion: painting. While you were never close to your other family members you were always very close to your art teacher. This led you to have very close ties to your friends, co-workers, and eventual children. Will your legacy remain for longer in the memory of strangers or your loved ones?

Goals

Complete the Painter Career

Reach level 10 of the Painting, Cooking and Baking Skills

Have a better relationship with your art teacher than anyone else in your family until you're a teen.

Move to a new world once you become a young adult and cut ties with your family.

Be the leader of one club for all your young adulthood and adulthood.

Be close friends with 3 co-workers and all of your children.

Prepare a meal at least once a week with the help of your children. *I know we don't have this in the game yet technically, but I'm hoping to have Cottage Living by the time I play with this generation*

Hang 5 paintings in a museum.

Retire from Painting Career to help care for your grandchildren.

Gen 7: Mole

Traits: Good, Perfectionist, Paranoid

Career: None

You always had a good relationship with your parents. You told each other everything... well, almost everything. You never understood why but one of your parents never talked about the rest of your family members. They explained that they simply never had a good relationship and would rather not talk about it. You respect this until their death when you return to their seemingly abandoned childhood home. While exploring the house you find a not-so-subtle bookcase door and a long forgotten attic filled with paintings. You take them in hopes of returning them but unbeknownst to you, you are being watched.

After an unfortunately unavailable nail-biting car chase, you shake off your attackers. You can't just lead them home to the rest of your family and what would the police do? They don't even arrest Vlad when he's trying to bite all of your sims!

Sorry, different rant.

So you do the only logical thing: you sell the paintings you just stole for some cash to buy an empty lot and skip town. A new life awaits you... just a bit underground.

Goals

Reach level 10 of the Writing, Logic, and Handiness Skills.

Complete the Best Selling Author Aspiration.

After your parent dies, you visit Gen 5's main home and retrieve the paintings hidden in the attic generations ago. Sell them and use the money to buy an empty lot in a completely different world.

Use your remaining money to build a small underground bunker. You can now never leave your bunker or risk immediate death.

You make your income by writing books under your new name. Oh, didn't I mention that? You changed your name to avoid detection. Your children may carry this new fake last name or your partner's.

Gen 8: Part of Your World

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Outgoing, Geek

Career: Social Media

All you knew was the bunker and it's not that you hated it, you just wanted a bit more. You're basically the little mermaid, except you don't get to be a mermaid. You just get a bunker you can never leave and a desperate yearning to explore the outside world.

Your outlet is the internet. From a young age you loved using it to play video games and make friends. As a teen you began to make videos and fostered a community online. Will you finally take your place in the world or remain hidden underground?

Goals

Reach level 10 of the Media Production and Video Gaming Skills

Complete the Social Media Career.

You're never allowed to leave the underground bunker until you're a teen.

You aren't allowed to go to school. Instead you play video games and use your computer for outside interaction.

As a teen you start developing your online presence by posting on social media and making videos on the video station.

You are only allowed to move out of the household once your parent dies and you have enough money in reserves to buy a furnished home.

Gen 9: Natural Born Performer

Traits: Gloomy, Unflirty, Adventurous

Career: Entertainment (Comedy Branch)

Due to your parent's fame, it was always expected you would follow in their footsteps. While a bit more gloomy than most, you are happiest when you make others laugh. So you join the Entertainer Career where you flourish as a comedian. You're also a bit unlucky in love. Will the family name's fame and your own notoriety keep you from finding true love or are you destined to a lifetime of gold diggers and one night stands?

Goals

Complete the Entertainer Career (Comedy Branch).

Reach level 10 of the Comedy and Rock Climbing skills.

Complete Serial Romantic Aspiration

Have four children.

Die suddenly and *mysteriously* in your adulthood.

Gen 10: A Grand Finale

Traits: Kleptomaniac, Ambitious, Perfectionist

Career: Actor

After losing your parents at a very young age, you and your siblings were sent to live with some distant relatives you didn't even know about. While you and your siblings are all very different and you bicker plenty, you always stick together.

After learning you are a descendant of some of the most famous and infamous sims in history, you are determined to meet and surpass their achievements. Will you come out on top or have you flown too close to the sun?

Goals

Complete the Actor Career

Achieve level 10 of 10 skills of your choosing.

Become a Global Superstar.

Get a star on Starlight Boulevard.

Throughout your lifetime you must go on vacation to every house you lived in throughout all previous 9 generations. Oh, and your three other siblings need to come along too. Think of it as Narnia meets It. Also make sure to steal something from each of the houses as a souvenir and display it proudly in your own home.

After you've completed all the things above, get turned into a vampire and choose to end your mortal legacy here... or start a whole new type all together.

Thank you so much for indulging me in this insanity. While I haven't played through any of these generations myself as of yet, I look forward to see the chaos and cuteness possible in The Sims.

Happy simming!

V

#simblr #ts4 gameplay #ts4 lets play #sims challenge #fame legacy challenge #ts4 simblr #ts4 legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #sims legacy #the sims legacy #ts4