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actualyoyo · 1 year

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Lemon boy

Bakugou x reader

Pure fluff, cross posted on ao3, gardener bakugou au, next door neighbours, reading is gn, a little angst in the future, multi chapter, inspired by lemon boy by Cavetown, meet cute, soft bakugou

The sky was grey and the moving truck was loud, at least that’s all you could note when you hear the machinery sounds it’s making.

“Morning!” Some old lady says “Moving in? Nice to have you” she says “I’ve been wonderin’ whos gonna be my new neighbor” she says with a joyful smile.

“Yep, haha.” You say awkwardly giving her a smile and a wave.

“I mean that neighbor we have across the road is a real grouch…. Not to intrude of course haha” she waves her hand as she gossips like old ladies like too.

Though honestly it makes you more curious, some old man with wrinkles and a Cain probably? I mean look at that garden he probably says things like “get off my yard!!!!” Well throwing rocks at the neighbourhood kids.

“I’ll be wary then,-“

“Ah do you enjoy gardens dear?” She probably noticed your staring, you think. “there’s a nice community one down the road by pigeon creak.”

“Oh I’ll make sure to check it out…” she try’s to continue to talk about why it’s called pigeon creak.

“Y/n!!! The driver needs you to sign something!!!!” You thank your friend internally as you scurry off to sign the paper work after saying goodbye.

“Ew talking to old people?” She laughs

“Guess so” you say awkwardly trying to focuse on reading the papers, you sign your name and pass them back

“Your stuffs all in the house,” she says sighing.

“Alright, I need to start setting stuff up then…” you think for a moment.

“Oh about that…. Me and Akita are gonna go out for lunch!” You internally roll your eyes.

“Wooowww…. Really Hina? Blowing me off for your boyfriend?” Again.

“You don’t understand!!! Once you have a boyfriend you’ll understand!!! Aki means the world to me!!!” She holds your shoulders.

“More important than my old over grown duplex? Mean!” You say dramatically. She rolls her eyes and dramatically spins around as the moving truck drives off and Akita and Hina get in his car.

“Great.” First house and you have to house warm it all by yourself or what ever.

Akita set up your bed frame and you and Hina pushed your furniture around but other than that you were living in the shell of a house.

First thing a trip to the grocery store was in order, it’s pretty far out from down town so it’s cheaper, still expensive though. And the people here are nice enough, too friendly at most. You spend the trip with your headphones in listening to some random song on your playlist, that night you eat microwave Ramen for dinner and pass out in your bed.

When your alarm clock rings you are already up. Thinking about yesterday and how today will go. You step outside to try to get a fresh breath of air to escape the worry plagued world of your mind. Sitting on the porch quietly.

All you could think well doing this is “god this is embarrassing” as if it wasn’t your house and all you were doing was sitting.

In your mind you started making your todo list for the day

-clean and put away dishes

-set up bath room

-set up kitchen

-holy fucking shit he’s hot

Who in the living earth is that holy fuck. When you look up from your lap a door slams shut and a tall dude comes out.

Tall, blonde and spiked hair, loose denim shorts and red loose shirt. He had on a brown apron with gardening tools in the pockets and in his hands he had a kneeling pad and separated tool box with other gardening equipment.

Suddenly you felt exposed in your pj pants and throw on shirt.

He looked gruff, hard on the eyes but in a good way. He was scowling very clearly, and when he looks straight at you your brain almost went into flight or fright mode.

Silently you watched him work on his beautiful garden. Roses, bleeding hearts, sun flowers, vines, you could smell the lilacs and and lavender from across the road. So many flowers you didn’t even know the name of, or have even seen before.

He pulled out weeds and carried the water jug like it was nothing, cutting the stems off of flowers and putting them in a basket.

As much as you wanted to stay and watch you knew it would be weird if he saw you looking at him again.

I mean not that you liked him, you aren’t a teenager. Just you liked looking at him or something, every one needs a little eye candy in their life you remind yourself as you get dressed for the day.

It’s 5 when you finish most of your todo list, satisfied you decide that the reason you liked watching the gruff neighbour who apparently was an ass according to your old lady neighbour was because his garden was cool, so you’ll just have to take a trip down to the garden she mentioned by the pigeon creak she said.

You called Hina like 10 times before she picked up, you talked about your day well you walked there. You know, before she got swept up in talking about her drama with her other friends that you didn’t really like much. At least her and Akita were going steady, you remind yourself. As you hang up after saying good bye when you get closer.

The gardens pretty, better phrasing, it’s beautiful, like that gruff dudes yard. It’s peaceful and big but not to spacious to make it feel uncomfortable but still enough room to move around and pick veggies and flowers. Each category was in a different sections with small section inside for each individual plant type.

Trees for fruits were pushing into the back of the garden that was surrounded with a wood hand made fence that had white fairy lights around it and bottom surrounding the outside. There was a sign out side it reading “pigeons creak community garden” and something about preventing hunger and raising a sense of community and that the flyer will tell you more. You grabbed the flyer, skimming through it, nothing too interesting to read right now.

The night was just beginning to set and you had a sweet sense of calmness. Maybe this is what people mean by nature is therapy or whatever white moms with white font spice jars say.

You open the latch on the gate and walk down the rock path and sit on one of the many benches.

You sigh. It really does feel you can breathe better now. With out the worry of work starting tomorrow or the things you have to do with your new home or how Hina is in so much drama like usual or anything else. You can finally breathe.

“Hey” a scratchy and deep voice says to you “huh?” You spin your head around uncomfortably “don’t sigh like that you’re ruining the mood!” It’s your hot grouchy neighbour “huh??” Is all you can say. “Why..” you say with out thinking “too loud” he narrows his eyes at you as he stands up from the planter box he was weeding “new neighbour.” He says, you don’t really know why he said it though.

“I am…” you laugh nervously. Why is he scowling like that well coming up to you like he’s gonna pounce on you. “The flowers will suck in your sadness. Don’t ruin my shit!”

“Whaa...?????” You say in a scared and confused manner “I’m sorry about your flowers… sir….” He looks at you even more upset “don’t call me sir that’s my dad!”

“Oh sorry!….what do I call you then…” you slip in quietly. He looks at you for a moment, you can tell his face switches to puzzled for a second before going back to a more “relaxed” scowl.

“Bakugou….bakugou katsuki”

“Y/n l/n” you smile uncomfortably. maybe he can be another friend? A hot one too. Not some old lady.

“My dad started this garden so…. Don’t go messin’ it up” he swats his hand at you like you’re a troublesome kid.

“Right. Try not to” you smile at him. This conversation may be weirdly awkward but you don’t mind for the sexy neighbour.

“You live across the street” he states the obvious as he stands behind you, he places his hands on the benches back, either sides of your shoulders.

“I just moved in” “I know”

“Your front yard is shitty,” he growls. “it’s bad I know” you laugh to lighten the mood “bad. Fix it. Makes mine look shitty. Ruins the atmosphere” you look at him silently. Who does he think you are?

“Well I-uhm already am doing a lot ya know? Inside the house so I don’t have time to get to it right now and I-“

“Why” he interrupts you

“What.” You say annoyingly. What’s this guys problem!?

“I’m starting a new job tomorrow… and I have moving and unpacking to do in th-my house” he turns his head in confusion

“You haven’t finished that shit yet?” He groans at you. “No? I don’t have any help…” you trail off quietly.

“Why the hell not?????” He slams hands down. Your neck is starting to hurt in this position so you stand and turn around to face him. “My friends are all busy…. And no one I know lives close anyways!” You say annoyed. “Fine.”

“Fine.” You say back like you understand what he’s thinking “if you insist then.” He folds his arms together and sighs “what?” You say flatly.

“If you need help that bad!” What???? “What?!” You shake your head in cluelessness.

“Fine, I’ll come over tomorrow and help you move around shit and shit or whatever.” He says it like you know each other, like that sentence is grammatically correct and made any sense.

“Right when did I say that…” you whisper. “It’s alright I don’t need the help…” you do but you don’t even know this guy. You can’t just let him in your house. “Besides I work tomorrow”

“You clearly do, call in sick.” He shakes his head like you’re stupid or something “I can’t call in sick on my first day!” You say dramatically.

He laughs at you “right. Fine when do you get off” he says nonchalantly like you guys are close or something “5 pm” you say with out thinking “I’ll be at yours at 5” “uhm okay thanks but I-“ what if your a serial killer who’s gonna murder me then sell my body parts on the black market!!!! “Don’t worry I’m not gonna do anything bad” he says it like it’s weird thing to think.

“I’m glad you know it’s what I’m thinking” you say frankly “but honestly the fact you gotta say it is a red flag” you quip back “fine. I’m gonna murder you and use you as plant fertilizer. My big secret. that’s why my flowers are so nice.” He says it like it’s a matter a fact well the corners of his mouth pull up slightly.

“Not surprised with your attitude mr. Bakugou” you shrug your shoulders.

“Stop it with that, and what’s that supposed to mean?!” He puts his hands on his hips. “All your flowers must be sucking in your temper all the time mr.”

“That’s my dad! I told ya, shut up! And well it’s working, must be! Cause my flowers are the best in the neighbourhood!! In the town!” He argues. “Alright” you try to hide your amusement.

You stop the time on your go phone from the corner of your eye, “I should be going now” you sigh. “You should be” he says annoyed, but for some one who wants you gone he sighs like he’s gonna miss your company just as much as you’ll miss his. “See you tomorrow then?” You say.

“Hm?” he raises his eye brows like he didn’t expect you to let him come over “yeah. Don’t make dinner I will” he turns around “what! No nee-“ “leave!” He shouts behind himself as you. You jump back and begin to walk back to the gate and set your self on the path home.

Almost wishing he was walking you home like some teenage love story. Stupid. You say. Stupid you say when you fall asleep thinking about your grouchy, sexy, funny neighbour.

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eats-the-stars · 2 years

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love the guy assigned to my case at the “help you get a job” program. i have exactly 2 modes. 1) procrastinating until the absolute last minute. And 2) guess I will complete months worth of work that is also due at the end of the year in exactly 3 days of non-stop effort. You can basically flip a coin as to which approach my brain will decide to take for any given task.

so yeah I have a job now. and my poor case manager dude is like “wait. no. that was so fast. it’s been one week. you did how many interviews? and you picked...this one. the one that is not like anything you have done before and also was not on the “jobs I think would work out for me” list that we made?”

and he was scrambling like “accommodations. training. oh god. um. do i need to talk to your employers?” and getting more anxious when I was like “no i think I have it covered.” like i am sorry bro but i know that my vibes in person are like “quiet forgetful autistic person who can pass for either a high school student or a grandma at any moment” and this does not inspire confidence, but I am actually pretty independent once someone gives me a little push to start a thing.

also...dude you have my job history. winter sports area general worker (concessions, ticket sales, renting ski/snowshoe equipment, managing cross-country trails, monitoring the tube hill, etc.). family restaurant hostess (basically every role in the place except a cook). person selling fireworks out of tent for all of July while also living in a smaller tent behind the shipping crate filled with things that go boom. call center customer service rep handling 4 different clients that range from crafts and home decor to incontinence products and super expensive furniture. freelance dog-sitting with clients ranging from “rich couple who wants me to let their elderly cockapoos out twice a day for $50 bucks a pop in a house with a basement theater” to “i’ll give you $10 a day to exercise and feed the 3 huskies in our small apartment also they can jump higher than you are tall and scream louder than you thought possible.” bro we added a whole “volunteer experience” section to my resume because I wrote grants and worked with an environmental group to restore native bluebirds to the community and volunteered at the community table and the animal shelter and the library. like i have done lots of things that are not really connected at all. someone says “hey do you think you could do this?” and I am suddenly living out of a tent for a month googling “what the fuck is a crossette?” i once ended up in Memphis for 2 months doing volunteer construction work in the aftermath of a hurricane because my cousin didn’t want to go alone and everyone was like “oh we know someone who goes with the flow so hard.”

so you better believe i told you “oh i don’t know, maybe a receptionist position would be nice” and then applied to every local job known to god and then a few extra and took the first one to say “cool can you start next week?” i know i did not give off “I will try anything at least once if you ask me fast and then go ‘great!’ before I can process what i agreed to” vibes while sitting in your office in my colorful leggings, grandma sweaters and animal hats while not making eye contact and talking about how lovely my nephew is and how much I enjoy quiet time alone and gardening and i struggle with a poor memory and navigating social interactions. but i know you proofread my resume my guy. you asked questions about all these things except the construction thing because i actually forgot to mention that actually which is good because then i might have had to mention the cult involvement that i wasn’t aware of until i was stuck on-site but it all worked out so no sweat. still, i am glad that he is concerned by my “out of the blue” spontaneity. it’s kind of his job to help people settle into jobs that they can handle, and I also know that I would realistically need more assistance from him if I wasn’t so good at adapting on the fly due to my bad habit of saying “sure, I can do that” to literally anything. also my new job is honestly pretty tame, so i am not sure what he is freaking out about. i should really not mention some of the other jobs i spontaneously applied for before accepting this one. like..my friend...i could be working in a bridal shop. i could be training to install and repair vending machines or decorating cakes or delivering medical equipment. i applied for a job that was literally “window production.” none of these are actually as wild as that time I spent 2 months with a religious cult doing manual labor and living out of an abandoned, half-destroyed school building because my cousin talked me into it. i had to watch a dramatic reenactment of the crucifixion of Jesus on my very first night that brought the whole gymnasium of strangers to wild, howling tears while I was awkwardly clapping my hands as my cousin sobbed incoherently into my shoulder. i once dog-sat a bluetick coonhound for 2 weeks in the dead of winter, and the snow if his yard was so high that he was able to jump the fence and book it down the street. i had to chase him through knee-high snow for over an hour before he stopped to sniff a bemused old lady long enough for me to catch him. i once had a customer at the restaurant rail at me for a good twenty minutes because she was absolutely sure that we did serve pineapple upside down cake and i was just withholding this dessert from her, specifically. the bar for “jobs I would apply for” is so low that I actually thought “well as long as nobody spits in my face, pukes on me consistently, or shanks me in the kidney again I could probably do anything.” although to be fair to my case manager i did not mention those things to him (except the pineapple upside down cake lady because I mention her all the time, i am still pissed off about that situation). also, my sister was actually the one to have a dog wake her up in the middle of the night only to puke directly into her mouth, but I watched it go down, so the psychic trauma of witnessing that still exists.

#honestly i think my poor social skills get me into half of the situations in my life #because i agree to things before i process them because most people talk and talk too fast for me #so i spend the whole conversation trying to keep up also figure out what the hell we're talking about #and then at the end i turn to my sister and say 'so what was that about?'#and she says something like 'you signed up to sell fireworks out of a tent for all of july' and i just have to run with that #the other half of the situations just come from having relatives and family friends that actively seek out situations #but want to drag someone adaptable and chill along who will also not say 'that's literally insane. no' when asked #also i need less cousins who take the zombie apocalypse life tip of always bringing a slow runner with you to situations #like i am a small person ok. my legs are shorter. i can't help it that everyone else is sprinting around on their stilt-legs #also just like i like to take walks with my dad because the mosquitoes love his blood way better than mine #i have a history of 'first person to get stabbed in a situation' that is probably just due to being the weakest looking person in any group #and i don't really panic in emergencies. i don't really know why. maybe it's something to do with being autistic #but if someone is screaming in pain and writhing on the floor #or an alarm goes off #or a bus skids on the ice and smears a stranger across the sidewalk right in front of me #or if i get mugged in a coffee shop while i'm studying for exams #i don't really do the things that other people around me do in the same situation #i personally think that the bubble i exist in just runs slower than everyone else's #so they're all having their reactions and freaking out while i'm still like 'damn something sure is happening right now.#am i supposed to do anything about this?'#and then if the answer is: 'yeah you should probably calm down that guy on the floor. figure out why he's screaming. then call 911 maybe?'#then i'll just do that while other people are saying things like 'oh god what's happening?!'#like if i panicked every time i had a dog that i was responsible for make a stupid life decision in front of me #or had a cult member ask me. an atheist. if i felt like i connected with god at the emotional catharsis activity #or honestly even just every time i've ever been stabbed in the left kidney even tho that's only happened twice #then i don't know i would probably be doing a lot of panicking #maybe it's an energy thing. i feel like panicking requires more energy than i usually have access to

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iced-nct · 2 years

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Cinnamon Hearts

Pairing: Camboy!Mark x Fem Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ (Minors DNI), Oral (f rec.), Big dick Mark Lee (But we KNEW this), roommates to at least fuckbuddies idk man, Language, Use of the term 'good girl', Mark also refers to us as "filthy whores" (yessir.) y'all get the point it's dirty.

Synopsis: Mark makes a great roommate. He's clean, friendly, & quiet (not to mention hot as hell), but the source of your roommates income is a question you find yourself thinking of. But you didn't expect this...

Rent is expensive, and a reliable roommate is hard to come by. So, when you stumbled across Mark’s application you were hesitant. First and foremost, he is very much a dude, and you were not. Preference had been given to female roommates in the past. Though, looking back on it now they did always have a habit of disappointing you. Mark seemed to stick out from the rest of the applications you had, and upon meeting him in person you decided there would be no other option.

“Hey, you didn’t mention what it is you do aside from listing it as ‘self-employed’. What is it that you do, if you don’t mind my asking?” You smiled at Mark while toying with the extra apartment key.

“Oh yeah, I never really know how to explain it. Uh... I’m an influencer? Yeah, I’m an influencer” He grinned back at you, and you almost melted at how cute he was.

The answer seemed enough for you, so you tossed him the key and the rest is history. Mark made a fantastic roommate. He was extraordinarily clean, he helped out around the house, he was quiet, incredibly friendly and jaw-droppingly hot. There was never an awkward moment since he had moved in, living together felt as easy as breathing. The only odd thing was you never actually saw Mark doing any work, or heard anything for that matter. Unless he was the world’s quietest influencer, which seemed laughable. But he always made rent, and had extra to spoil the two of you with new furniture for the living room, and to treat you to take out a few times a week when you worked until the early hours of the morning. It did seem a little strange that Mark was still awake when you returned from your bartending shift at three in the morning, but he insisted he woke when he heard you come in.

It had been a shockingly slow Thursday night at the bar, and your boss asked if you wanted to call it a night. Despite the fact that it was just barely ten o’clock you were exhausted and very thankful for the ability to leave early so you could get some well-deserved rest. When you arrived home, you immediately flopped down on the plush sofa, relishing in the feeling of being off your feet. Too lazy to grab the remote, you opted to lay there in the dark on your phone. That was when you heard him. Soft whines trickled through Mark’s door, making you perk up and strain to listen. Was he hurt? Having a nightmare, maybe?

“You like watching me stroke myself, you filthy whores?” Mark groaned.

Holy shit did he have someone over? You tried to listen closer, but could only hear Mark’s breathy moans. Not that you really minded, he sounded very sexy, but you would rather not listen to your roommate railing someone while you were in the next room. Figuring you might be able to hear better from the kitchen, you tiptoed over, perching on the island. In doing so, you knocked over the glass candy bowl, spilling cinnamon hearts all over the floor.

“Shit” You cursed under your breath, kneeling down to start scooping them up.

Mark’s room had gone deadly silent, and you heard his laptop flip closed right before his door opened. The kitchen lights flickered on and you knelt there in front of your half naked roommate, with your hands full of cinnamon hearts.

“(y/n)? I thought you were at work? Why are you home?” Mark’s cheeks were flushed, and his eyes wide with panic.

“Oh. Um it was slow, so I came home early. Don't worry though! I didn’t hear anything!” You chuckled sheepishly, knowing you didn’t sound convincing in the slightest.

Mark’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at you, and your mouth dried up as you took in the sight of him before you. The only barrier he had was his black boxers, which clung to him so tightly you were unsure if that even counted as you could see him so clearly through them. He smirked when he noticed you staring.

“I’m so sorry. You have something you’re finishing up! I can totally go stay somewhere else tonight” You babbled on, Mark just shook his head and leaned up against the counter, his eyes never leaving you.

“You know, you look pretty like this.” His tongue poked the inside of his cheek.

You cocked your head at him as you put the last of the candies in the bowl, grabbing one from the counter and popping it in your mouth. “Like what?” You questioned

“On your knees” He winked, before helping you to your feet.

At this point you were certain that you were a bright shade of red. You had thought he was hot from the minute you saw his photo, but of course the only time he looks at you like that is when he’s got someone over.

“Come on, (y/n). I have something to show you.” Mark led you to his room, where to your surprise there was no one.

Mark had an intricate camera set up in his room, along with dual monitors and webcams. You looked at his desk area suspiciously, then diverted your gaze back to him.

“Influencer?” You raised your eyebrow in question.

“Yeah. I ‘influence’ people to feel good” He beamed proudly, like it was the worlds’ greatest accomplishment.

“So, you’re a camboy.” You deadpanned, causing Mark to recoil at the term you used.

“I prefer the term influencer still, but you can call it whatever you want. I didn’t tell you when I moved in because some people get really weird about it” He explained, and as you thought about it more you agreed. If you had known you also would have thought differently.

You finished sucking on the cinnamon candy in your mouth and raked your eyes over Mark’s body again. “Well, if you ever need to spice up your stream... you know where to find me” You winked with a sudden boost of confidence.

Mark ran his tongue over his lips and sat on the edge of his bed with a sickly grin hanging on his lips. “I think you need to show me what you can do first” He challenged.

Never one to back down to a challenge, you smirked at him. Maintaining eye contact while you began to strip off your work clothes. You tossed your shirt at him playfully, smiling while you ran your hands over your red lace bra. Mark’s eyes followed the movement of your hands as they drifted lower, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them off. He drank in how you looked in front of him, and you thanked your lucky stars that you had the decency to wear a matching set today. You sauntered towards him, swaying your hips a little extra, and you hooked your legs over Mark’s to settle yourself in his lap. You purposefully ground yourself down against his bulge, earning you a hiss as Mark inhaled sharply.

“Well?” You blinked innocently at him “Am I hired?”

Mark grabbed your chin in his hand and pulled you down to meet his lips in an aggressive kiss. Your body molding into his as his hands swept over your exposed skin. You both pulled away, breathless and stunned at the others passion.

“I’d say you’re more than hired” Mark pulled your hips down to brush your core against him.

The wetness pooling between your thighs and skin red hot from where Mark had touched you ignited a fire within you. “I want you”

Mark captured you lips once more, seeming to know exactly what you meant. He laid you on the bed and nestled himself between your thighs. You worked quickly to rid yourself of your panties, desperate to feel Mark’s tongue against you. But he felt better than you could have ever imagined, the way he licked and stroked made you feel euphoric. You fisted your hands into his hair and pushed your hips up more, desiring more friction than he was giving you. Mark hummed against your clit, sending deep vibrations through you, and your eyes rolled back. You relished in the feeling of ecstasy he was giving you. It didn’t take long for you to come undone with the expertise he had. Mark looked up at you from between your legs and licked your juices off his lips.

“Think you can handle it?” He asked, while freeing himself from the confines of his boxers.

You took in the sheer size of him and bit your lip nervously. He was huge, like you probably wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow but it would be so worth it. You nodded slowly and Mark grabbed a condom from his desk and rolled it on. He hooked your leg over his shoulder as he began pressing himself into you. Your hands gripped the sheets and you bit your tongue to stop yourself from screaming. As Mark bottomed out you released the moan you had been holding back.

“Good girl” He praised, before pulling back out to thrust into you again.

Mark’s hands alternated between grabbing your hips when he wanted to rail you, or twisting your nipples between his fingers. Either way, he fucked you until you couldn’t even remember why you came home early. And that was just the way he liked it, seeing you a fucked-out mess beneath him. Knowing that there was no one else who could make you feel this good gave Mark all the strength he needed to pound into you. He groaned about how tight you felt as you came undone around him, your pussy pulsing as you came. Mark’s fingernails dug deeper into your hips as he chased his high, his thrusts became sloppy and his breathing heavier. As he came, he leaned forward into your shoulder, groaning praises into your ear. Your nails clawed his back, as you took in how big he was now that he wasn’t moving in you.

He got up and tossed the condom in the trash before coming back to you in bed. Mark couldn’t hide his smile as he watched you tuck yourself under his blankets. He crawled over you and pulled your body against his, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“So, we’re having a sleepover tonight?” He whispered softly.

You made a move to get up, but Mark held you firmly to him. “I can go if you want?” you yawned.

“No. Stay. I want to know what it’s like to wake up with you” He brushed your hair back behind your ear “And you spilled my cinnamon hearts all over the floor. This is how you’re paying me back”

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amaya-chwan · 4 years

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Takeaways from Therapy Game: Restart Chapter 07

HELLO EVERYONE! Gosh, how have you all been?!?!?! Two months flew by just like that, and with it, the next chapter of TGR with our favourite adorkable couple, Shizuma and Minato, has arrived! 🥰❤️💛

I would’ve written my takeaways as soon as I got the manga a couple of days ago, but it’s my bday week and I’ve also been distracted by CQL/MDZS these past 2 months sooo... FORGIVE ME 😭 I still love them, I really do!

Anyway, let’s get to it! In this chapter:

THEY’RE REALLY DOMESTIC NOW and looking at houses! 😍

Minato really is experienced in house hunting and knows what he wants. 👏

Shizuma really loves Minato and doesn’t care much about the place they’ll be living in, so long as they’re together! 💕😭💕

SHIZUMA LEGIT HAS AMAZING BOYFRIEND SENSORS! 🥰😇

They really don’t get to see each other much these days because of their schedules, so they really try to cherish the time they have together!

Their communication during misunderstandings is amazing... it’s actually goals! 👏 👏

MAMA IS FXXKING HILARIOUS! 🤣

These domestic dorks... I LOVE THEM SO MUCH! They’re so sneaky and know how to have a little fun (albeit at Mama’s expense)! 🤣😍

This adorkable couple will seriously be the end of me! 🤣😍🥰😘❤️💛

For a more detailed breakdown/summary of this chapter, please continue after the cut! I promise there is a surpise at the end! 😉✨

Minato and Shizuma sit down and talk about house hunting a little more seriously. Minato really is an experienced senpai in this field. He lays down some ground rules with Shizuma before they go through Shizuma’s list of potential homes.

MINATO IS ONE PICKY DUDE! 😂 He shuts down each and every one of the houses on the list, each for different reasons. Shizuma, on the other hand, looks at the silver linings in each of the houses’ shortcomings, leaving Minato to fantasize about a domestic Shizuma, i.e. asking Minato to help him cook, and even taking a bath together! 👀😍

Minato realises Shizuma is enjoying house hunting but hasn’t said what he’s looking for in a house, so he asks. While listing that his only concerns are the neighbourhood and finances, Shizuma blurts out potentially building a house for themselves one day, only to hold himself back from finishing his sentence since Tatsumi told him he’s being too forward/pushy (see Takeaways from Chapter 5 and 6).

Minato catches on about what Shizuma is thinking of saying, and starts to think about how ‘secure’ their relationship is and what ‘proof’ they have (of being a couple). While he ponders this, the ‘security/proof’ he is thinking of appears in the window in the form of a happy husband and wife with their young children as well as another male and female couple looking at a brochure.

SHIZUMA LEGIT HAS AMAZING BOYFRIEND SENSORS since he unconciously holds Minato’s hand once he gets a little insecure. They happily continue looking at houses and then walk around the shopping complex.

Their date is cut short as Minato has a client meeting afterwards, and they are both a little upset that they hardly have the time to see each other. Minato gets distracted by a cute and quite-detailed elephant lamp (which he buys) in the display window of a furniture store and proceeds to enter, telling Shizuma his client won’t mind if he’s late.

Minato asks Shizuma what he’d do with his current furniture, potentially purchasing new ones, and the topic of beds come up. Shizuma says a large bed would be good to get. Minato, the cute tsundere he is, says this bed would be for Shizuma. Shizuma says such sweeeeeeet words, like they’d sleep together in that big bed every night so he had to ask Minato what he’d prefer. Just before Minato can confess his true feelings about this topic, Shizuma brushes this comment aside, angering Minato.

THEIR COMMUNICATION IS AMAZING! 🥰💖 Minato actually tells Shizuma to tell him if there’s anything wrong because it’s worrying him. Shizuma tells Minato what happened with Tatsumi, and of course Minato just laughs, knowing that Shizuma has been that way (i.e. very forward) before house hunting, and even long before they got together--telling his coworkers about Minato being his boyfriend, looking for Minato’s hometown before they officially got together, reading up on LGBT life planning. Minato assuaged Shizuma’s concerns, saying he’s the only one who can accept/take on Shizuma’s straightforwardness and to never forget it. And in a very cute and somewhat teasingly seductive way. Shizuma blushes a little--he listens to Minato’s words but is left a little unsatisfied with how this went down/Minato’s response.

Minato teases Shizuma a little more, suggesting they go to a hotel since he doesn’t want to work anymore. When Shizuma reminds him his client is waiting for him, he pulls Shizuma behind what looks like a room divider. He asks Shizuma to kidnap him so they can just have time togeher. Just as things begin to get a little heated, a PA announcement in the shopping complex calls for Minato. Who would that be? Well, of course it’s Mama.

Mama is annoyed at Minato since he had to go to such an extreme length to find him, but Minato can’t believe Mama called him over the PA. They both talk about the project they’re working on for the bar, with Shizuma still tagging along. They all enter the lift, with both Minato and Shizuma a bit down that their little ‘date’ is over. The lift stops at the level Mama and Minato are supposed to get off on, but Minato is held back by Shizuma and Mama walks out alone... and is infuriated!

Shizuma and Minato laugh it off and proceed to kiss in the lift*, knowing full well how sneaky and somewhat naughty they were to do that to Mama. Deep in an embrace, Shizuma asks Minato again what time he would finish, only to hear that he would finish well into the night. He continues to say that it’s hard for them to see each other since their schedules are so off. Minato, looking as though he’s a little deep in thought, tells Shizuma they should buy one large bed since “there’d be no meaning in us living together if I don’t get to sleep with you every night.“ 😘😘😘

Minato then tells Shizuma he is really, really looking forward to them living together now, so Shizuma’d better find a good place for them!

And that’s the end of this chapter! I hope you like the little takeaways and detailed summary being separated. And for reading this far, please enjoy this little snippet of them in the lift*! 🥰😍😘💖💛❤️

THANK YOU AGAIN FOR READING! 💜 It’s always fun sharing this with you all until we can get our hands on the official tanks! 🥰

📢 As always, please support Hinohara-sensei by purchasing her books and CDs! 📢

I’ll see you all next month for our takeaways where Hinohara-sensei is featured in the August edition of Dear+ and has a colour spread!!!! 🥳🎉

As always, stay safe during these turbulent times and look out for each other and for your loved ones! 💜

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Note

I 100% want to see the "Hospital AU + Blind Date" prompt! I need to know what happened with Emma and Killian to make them break up 😭😭😭 and obviously I need you to get them back together! It's been bothering me for weeks!

Interrupting our regularly schedule Catch Me If You Can programming to finally put out another one of those two trope game prompts!! This time it’s “Hospital AU + Blind Date” that @captainsjedi prompted me! The other two remaining that I haven’t done are “Historical + Grief + Star-crossed lovers” and “Accidentally Married + Forgotten First Meeting.” One of them is partially started, but I’m always all ears to hear input from you guys! You all seemed to like “wilderness + awkward first meeting” ❤️

If Emma looks at this blue dress one more time, she’s going to lose her mind.

It’s not that she doesn’t like it. She does. The color works well with her skin tone and the cinched waist accentuates her curves, the scooped neckline showing just enough cleavage to not be too conservative but not enough for her boobs to be falling out, and the sleeves are almost non-existent so that her arms are able to move freely as she goes throughout her nights.

Because it is nights that she’s wearing it. The dress isn’t something she’s going to wear during the middle of the day when she’s grocery shopping or depositing a check at the bank (because Lucas Bail Bonds apparently does not know how to use direct deposit), and it’s definitely not something that she’s going to wear on one of her honey trap dates because it did cost more than thirty dollars.

This dress is her first date dress, which has really become more of her blind date dress, and honestly, if Emma has to go on another blind date before the month of November is over, she’s going to take a lighter and burn this dress and use the warmth from the fire instead of paying a ridiculous heating bill. It’s not even winter yet, and she’s going to go broke just from trying to stay warm. As many perks as there are living in Boston, there are also downfalls.

This date is a downfall.

Walsh Osbourne.

That’s the name of the guy she’s supposed to be meeting tonight. Mary Margaret, her sister-in-law and the woman who has insisted that Emma need to start dating again after….well, Mary Margaret has been setting Emma up on a ridiculous number of blind dates for no particular reason. She swears that she just happens to know these guys from her social circles, but Emma is almost sure that Mary Margaret is using some kind of dating app to find men for Emma because nothing in the world matters more to Mary Margaret Blanchard-Nolan (talk about a mouthful) than everyone she knows being as in love as she is.

That’s pretty much impossible when Mary Margaret and David are impossibly in love. And as much as Emma loves them, there’s only so much a girl can take before it becomes nauseating.

(It’s pretty nauseating.)

There’s nothing more terrifying to Mary Margaret than a single woman, and Emma might be the most terrifying single woman of all.

She’s had love, multiple times now, and it’s gone. It’s not coming back.

And she doesn’t want it back.

Looking at herself in the mirror one more time, Emma adjusts the top of her dress, flips her ponytail over her shoulder, and grabs her coat before walking out the door so that she can drive down to the historic district to go to the Italian restaurant Mary Margaret told her to go to in order to meet Walsh.

At least if she gets murdered Mary Margaret and David will know where she is.

And maybe she’ll have a stomach full of pasta. That’s the only way she wants to go.

Walsh is already waiting for her when she gets to the restaurant. Emma recognizes him from the picture Mary Margaret sent her as well as all of his social media accounts that she stalked. Emma spends her days tracking down seedy guys who lie about things both online and in their real lives, and she wasn’t about to go into this date without knowing everything she could possibly know about him. He is thirty-four years old, owns an antique furniture store that he inherited from his father, hasn’t been in a serious relationship for about two years, and he is, indeed, on several different dating sites. At least his captions aren’t terrible on those or anything.

If she sees one more “I’m a member of the FBI: Female Body Inspector” caption, she’s going to scream.

“Emma?” he questions, a hopeful smile lighting up on his face that makes her almost feel bad that her heart is already set out on there not being a second date.

“Hi, Walsh,” she smiles, trying to be nice as she walks up to him and hugs him in greeting. All of these guys are always huggers, and she likes to take the initiative before they can grope her ass. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. Can I take your coat?”

“No,” she says a little too quickly while her cheeks heat. “No,” Emma sighs, batting away memories as she smiles up at Walsh’s brown eyes. “I’ve got it. Thank you, though.”

She sits down before he can pull her chair out and adjusts the cloth napkin over her lap. She’s never been here before, but she knows that it’s expensive. Most of her first dates don’t really happen at expensive restaurants. It’s nice, honestly, but if she had to pick something for herself, it would be a Red Sox game with a hot dog and all of the salty popcorn that she can eat.

“You are beautiful,” Walsh compliments as he settles down across from her. “I don’t know why Mary Margaret thought I was ever in the same league as you.”

Emma reaches up to tuck her loose hair behind her ear and quickly looks down at the menu. “How do you know Mary Margaret again?”

“She’s a customer at my store. You don’t have to order. I’ve already ordered for us.”

Whoomp, there it is.

Emma slowly puts the menu down, her face beginning to ache for how forced her smile is, and it takes everything in her not to go down a bulleted list of reasons why you should never order for a person you don’t know.

Allergies, likes, dislikes, moods, diets, common curtesy.

It’s something she’s found that a lot of guys do. For some, they genuinely think that they’re being sweet by ordering food for their date. For others, it’s a way to assert dominance and to let their date know that they are very much in charge of what’s happening. Honestly, everyone has their different tastes and some may find it sweet, but Emma doesn’t like people ordering for her. The only time that it’s acceptable is when you know someone well and know their order for takeout from their favorite Tai restaurant.

(Drunken noodles. Emma wants all of the spicy drunken noodles.)

But Emma is stuck here tonight, and if she doesn’t want to spend the next hour being miserable, she might as well put that behind her and try to have a little conversation so that she’s not bored to death.

Turns out, she’s going to be bored to death.

Walsh Osbourne’s favorite subject is, well, Walsh Osbourne. And antique furniture. He may very well be the most self-centered person Emma has ever met, and there are likely scars on Emma’s hands from the way she’s digging her nails into her palms to keep from screaming out. It’s probably Emma’s fault for feigning interest in his job as she pretended she hadn’t looked him up online beforehand, but she had no idea that he would only talk about it for the next twenty minutes. And she swears that every other word is some kind of praise for himself and how awesome he is and whatever else Walsh feels like talking about.

He doesn’t even ask her what she does for a living.

That’s blind date question number one, always.

By the time the appetizers come, Emma is ready to bolt. Walsh has ordered some kind of lasagna soup, and while the waitress, who has informed them that this is her first day, easily places Emma’s bowl in front of her, the same can’t be said for Walsh’s soup.

It happens in slow motion really. One minute, Emma is thankful that she’ll at least like the soup in their meal, and the next Walsh is screaming out in pain as scalding soup is poured onto his lap. Everything from there speeds up and happens quickly. There are apologies from the waitress and the restaurant owner, promises of free meals from there for a year if they don’t sue, but all Emma really knows is that she has to take him to the hospital because he probably has some pretty nasty burns in a very sensitive area.

Amazingly, even though Emma had decided that she couldn’t stand the dude fifteen minutes ago, now all Emma feels for Walsh is sympathy.

They go to Mass General since it’s the closest hospital and Emma knows that their emergency room is usually pretty efficient. It’s where she’s always gone if one of her skips gets a little too rough. She hasn’t been in a few months, for a lot of different reasons, and she’s not exactly happy to be going back. But this isn’t for her, it’s for Walsh, and there’s no way she can take him to another hospital simply because she doesn’t really want to go to this one.

She’s not really a priority right now.

This most definitely is going near the top of her list of worst first dates.

At least she’s not burned. Physically, at least.

They sit in the waiting room for far too long once a nurse on-call assures them that Walsh’s burn isn’t too serious (he does not agree), but eventually, he’s called back to an examination area. She tells him to go by himself, that she’ll wait in the waiting room, but the man absolutely insists that she follow him back there. Who is she to deny a man whose penis has possibly been burned?

Emma really wishes she had stayed in the waiting room, though, because as she’s sitting in a chair next to Walsh’s bed, the closed curtain opens up to reveal a shock of dark hair and the bluest eyes that she’s ever seen.

Blue eyes that have filled her dreams, and blue eyes that she’s been avoiding for five months, fourteen days, and seventeen hours, give or take. She’s only counted a little bit.

“Alright,” Killian starts looking down at his clipboard. He hasn’t looked up to see her yet, and she wonders if she can duck out underneath the curtain and move the other way without him noticing that she’s here. “So it says here that you’ve had a bit of an accident with some hot soup, Mr. Osbourne. I need to – ” Killian looks up then, obviously meant to have looked at Walsh and examine him, but the way that the smile on his face fades makes her know that he’s seen her. He blinks, several times more than what’s acceptable, and Emma wonders if she needs to be admitted to the hospital for the way her stomach is flipping. Intestines aren’t supposed to move like that. “I need to examine the burned area. I’ll have to undress you to examine you, so if you need your girlfriend to leave so that she doesn’t have to see, now would be the time.”

Emma opens her mouth to say something, probably to frantically explain to Killian that Walsh is most definitely not her boyfriend, but she doesn’t get the chance.

“She can stay,” Walsh says, and Emma’s eyes finally break away from Killian’s to look over at Walsh. “I don’t mind.”

“I – I do,” she stutters out, rising from the chair even though her legs feel like noodles attached to her torso. “I’m going to go back to the waiting room. I’ll come back when the exam is finished.”

And then she’s dashing out of there as quickly as possible, her shoulder brushing against Killian’s, and she swears that electric sparks move down her entire arm and burn her more than the soup did to Walsh’s groin.

Holy fuck.

Emma doesn’t go to the waiting room. There are too many people there. She can’t do that. She’s about to have some kind of breakdown that no one needs to see, and since it’s the temperature of a blizzard outside without any of the actual snow, she can’t exactly go outside. Quickly, she moves down the hallway where she knows a set of vending machines are. There’s one or two people at the nurses’ desk at the very end, but they’re occupied and not paying attention to the woman pacing the hallway in high heels.

Weirder things happen at hospitals every single day.

She’s spent enough time here herself, as well we hearing years worth of stories about what happens after the midnight hour.

It’s only nine fifteen.

Emma fumbles in her coat pocket for her phone. She can’t be caught up in her own mind right now. She has to talk to someone, and the only person who isn’t going to judge her for any of her freak out is Ruby.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Emma mumbles as her heels click across the tile floor. “C’mon, Rubes.”

“Aren’t you on a date?” Ruby asks in lieu of greeting.

“Kind of.”

“How are you kind of on a date?”

“Long story short: the waitress spilled hot soup on his dick, the closest hospital was Mass General, and Killian is his doctor.”

There’s a crash on the other end of the line, and Emma just knows that Ruby dropped whatever glass she was drinking out of. Emma’s probably going to have to buy her another wine glass.

“Holy fuck.”

“Exactly my thoughts.”

“Did you speak to him?”

“Nope,” she sighs, stopping by a vending machine and letting her eyes scan for pop-tarts or anything tooth-achingly sweet that Killian always hated when she ate. She’s hungry since she didn’t get to eat dinner, and she’s also feeling the slightest bit petty even if she has no right to be petty. “He assumed I was Walsh’s girlfriend, neither of us corrected him, and then I said I was going to wait in the waiting room while Killian examines the guy. There was no way I was sitting in there for that.”

Damn, no pop-tarts. Emma doesn’t even think that she has change.

“I mean, I think you’re missing out on some pure gold moments. Killian is currently examining the dick of a man that he thinks you’re sleeping with. I wouldn’t be surprised if Walsh ends up worse in the exam room than he did going in.”

Emma huffs, unable to do anything else, before sinking down onto the floor and hoping that they’ve been cleaned recently enough since her bare legs are touching them. She’s not going to be able to stand up in these shoes.

“Killian is a professional. He wouldn’t do anything like that.”

“He loved you, and you broke up with him for a dude who spills soup on himself.”

“I did not break up with him for Walsh.”

“He doesn’t know that.”

“Of course he knows that.”

“Uh, no,” Ruby stutters, “he doesn’t. He called me, like, a week after it happened and asked if I knew what was going on. I didn’t. Still don’t. All I know is that one day you were hot and heavy all over each other and the next you were packing up the box of his things at your apartment and asking me to drop them off at his place.”

Emma’s stomach rolls, that nausea coming back, and she has to swallow down all of the emotion in her throat. “I didn’t call you to have you give me a lecture on breaking up with Killian.”

“Then why did you call me?”

“Because I just saw him again, and I’m about to have a mental breakdown in the middle of this hospital.”

“That’s probably the best place to have it all things considered.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“No, no, no,” Ruby protests, and Emma keeps her phone against her ear. “Seriously now. I know it’s kind of a batshit crazy situation, but maybe you should talk to him now that you have the opportunity. You obviously still love him, and I know you’re not going to have the courage to come back to talk to him after this.”

“I do not still love him. I never loved him.”

“Emma, sweetie, yes you did, and I suspect that in your warped mind, that’s why you broke up with him. You got spooked, and you ran because you realized someone was finally going to treat you differently than Neal.”

Emma’s heart thumps a staccato beat in her chest, and she pulls her legs a little further into her chest while sweat of all things begins to bead at the base of her neck despite the freezing temperatures. “I don’t want to talk about this. I just wanted you to make me feel better about running into my ex-boyfriend.”

“You’ll feel better if you talk to Killian.”

“I – ”

“Nope,” Ruby interrupts. “I’m going back to drinking my wine. You’re a big girl. Deal with your relationship shit on your own.”“I hate you.”“And I love you.”

At that, the phone call ends, and Emma is left in a hospital hallway all alone while her mind swirls and her stomach churns.

Except, she’s not alone. The nurses down the hall are still there, and standing in front of her are worn down white tennis shoes under navy blue scrubs that she would recognize anywhere.

Killian.

Her eyes glance up, slow and unsure, and he’s staring down at her with his arms crossed over his chest so that the muscles of his biceps bulge the slightest bit. He always hated wearing long sleeves under his scrubs when it’s cold.

“Your boyfriend is getting some treatment from Ariel. He should be finished in a few minutes.”

His voice is dripping with disdain, deep and gravely, and it only causes fire to burn up in her.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

Killian scoffs, kicking his sneakers against the floor so that they squeak. “That’s not what he said. You’ve got a real piece of work in there, Swan. I don’t know what you could possibly see in him. Do whatever the hell you want to do with your life, but he spent the entire time I was examining him asking If it would be okay for the two of you to have sex tonight because you have ‘such a sweet ass.’ His words, not mine. It’s not exactly my place to make comments like that anymore, not that I would have ever been so dull in my compliments.”

Walsh has got to be kidding. There’s no way he said that, but then again, he is kind of an asshole. He could very much do that.

Shit. He probably said all of that.

But Killian has no right to be getting mad about any of this. It’s her life, not his, and he doesn’t get to have any kind of say anymore. They’re not together, and she can date whoever she wants.

So can he, but her heart shatters a little at the thought of that.

No, she won’t go there. She might throw up along with having a mental breakdown, and there’s probably not a floor in this hospital dedicated to things like that.

“You’re right,” Emma says as she carefully stands from the ground, her heels making it difficult at first. She and Killian are almost the same height now, and it helps her not to feel so damn small. He has never made her feel small, not until three minutes ago. “It is none of your business what I do or who I’m sleeping with. Thanks for the update on his condition. Have a nice night.”

She moves to walk away, but then Killian is grabbing onto her forearm and pulling her back so that their faces are only inches apart.

His eyes are unfairly blue, and she hates him for it.

“Emma, can we talk?”

“No.”

His eyes flutter closed as he tilts his head up, his jaw heavily ticking as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down his throat. Emma’s not sure if her lungs are still working. “We were together for five months, love. We were friends for a year before that. Don’t you think I deserve some kind of explanation as to why an hour after I told you that I loved you, you suddenly sprinted out my apartment door?”

The hurt in his voice is obvious, and it burns her like the freaking lasagna soup burned Walsh. She knows that she’s the one who screwed up, and that she doesn’t really have a leg to stand on here.

Emma Swan: screwing good things up since 1990.

“The last time someone told me that they loved me,” she yells out, loud enough that everyone can hear, “he left in the middle of the night, and I ended up going to jail for a year for something I didn’t do. So excuse me if I left before I could be abandoned again.”

Emma doesn’t look at Killian’s face. She can’t. All she can do is tug her arm away from his grip and start walking down the hallway, leaving Killian and her past behind her.

She doesn’t need this. She never has.

Emma is in the parking lot before she remembers that she’s supposed to be here with Walsh and probably has to take him home, but she doesn’t feel like it. Tonight has been too much, too overwhelming, and all she wants is to go home and eat the ice cream that’s in her freezer. This is definitely the worst date that she’s ever had.

The best was one at a Red Sox game with a hot dog and salty popcorn and the summer sun beating down on her skin in her shorts with a man with a charming smile in blue eyes sitting next to her, hand resting on her thigh. And all the ones after that where he’d take her jacket and pull her chair out even if they were at a shitty dive bar and even though she always said that she could get her own chair.

Shit.

Emma stops in front of an SUV that’s decidedly not her yellow bug because suddenly she can’t breathe. It has nothing to do with the nip in the air and the way that it makes her lungs burn with each step that she takes. It’s making her lungs burn right now with her hands pressed against the cool metal of the hood of this car.

“Swan.”

“Fuck,” she mutters, jumping out of her own skin so that she slaps down on the SUV, which, of course, makes the alarm go off. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the hell are you doing out here?”

Killian doesn’t say anything, at least not that she can hear over the alarm and the little voice in her head telling her not to cry and let hot tears spill from her eyes, and she’s tired of the waiting. She broke this man’s heart, and he is still standing outside in this awful weather trying to talk to him like she deserves him.

She doesn’t.

“I’m a screw up, Killian,” she whispers, her voice likely not being heard over the sound of the alarm. Cops or someone are probably going to show soon. “I’m not worth the fight that you’re trying to put up for me. I’m just a lost girl who has never mattered and never will. People always leave me.”

“I’m not going to leave, Emma.” His voice is louder now, and suddenly there’s a warm touch of a hand on her shoulder that has her turning around to look at him and the darkness swirling around in his eyes under the harsh florescent lighting of the parking lot. “I was never going to leave unless you asked me to, which you did. And I’d say that’s entirely beside the point, but it isn’t.”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“You don’t. At some point you have to trust me and trust yourself too.”

“Neal – ”

“I’m not Neal.” Killian smiles down at her, that little half one that he always did when he was trying to reassure her of something. “I’ve never been Neal, and I know that you know that. I also know that you know you have people out there who love you and who think that you matter. David, Mary Margaret, Ruby.”

“You?”

“Aye, me.” He smiles again and reaches up to tuck some her hair behind her ears. “I love you and your stubborn streak that drives me up the wall, and I’m not asking you to love me. All I’m asking is that when you’re ready, when you don’t think I’m going to leave you, come find me. I’m willing to talk about how you and I are both screw-ups. It’s not just you. I promise.”

Emma’s heart stutters, and that damn tear escapes from her eye. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

“I’m sorry that you think you don’t deserve love when you do.” He bends down to kiss her cheek over where the tear spilled out. His lips and his scruff are forever inked into the feel of her skin. “I’ve got to get back to work. Call me if you ever feel ready, okay? And maybe keep from setting off car alarms and dating men who get lasagna soup spilled on their crotch.”

And then he’s walking away much like she did in the past, and Emma has no idea how she’s going to fix any of this.

All she knows is that she wants to because he still makes her feel happier than anyone else ever has.

Getting up the courage to let go of her fears, reservations, and, frankly, her own set of issues is another story. It’s one that she’s not sure that she can do tonight, not when her mind is still whirling around in dizzying circles that make Emma feel like her feet aren’t actually touching the ground.

They are. Even if they’re stumbling.

It’s December when Emma finally gets the courage to show up at Killian’s apartment with takeout from their favorite Tai place (two orders of drunken noodles instead of her recent order of one), and he opens the door with a smile that she’s working on feeling like deserving. She talks to him, really talks to him for probably the first time in her years of knowing him, and as terrifying as it is, being able to talk to someone about the scars that mark her skin is almost freeing, red disappearing back into her normal ivory. Killian’s got scars too, ones he was more open about, but she was so caught up in herself that she never really took the time to appreciate what he was telling her.

That’s changing now.

They understand each other, the two of them, and even though Emma is terrified of what opening her heart back up could mean, she’s ready to take the leap. There’s no guarantee of a soft landing, but that’s half of the risk.

That’s half of the fun.

And she never has to wear the damn blue first date dress again.

Or take her injured date to the emergency room because he had hot soup spilled on him.

Killian tends to avoid soup at all costs.

And maybe her worst date of all time wasn’t actually all that bad. It had a pretty good ending after all, and Emma’s finding herself fond of happy endings now.

#cs prompts #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic

117 notes · View notes

vmheadquarters · 4 years

Text

We’re going to play a game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors will take turns telling this story. Each writer will craft a chapter (with no prior planning) and then “toss” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected! Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. — Chapter Eight of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @cubbiegirl And stayed tuned next week for Ch.9 from @vmsteenbeans -tag, you’re it!

——————————————————————————————————— CHAPTER EIGHT by @cubbiegirl

“Listen, I know we’re looking for clues or whatever,” Wallace cautioned as he and Casey let themselves into Veronica’s bedroom. “But she’s my best friend, like my sister. So some things are off-limits.”

Casey held his hands up, palms out. “I get it. There are things I don’t want to know, either, man.”

Satisfied that Casey understood the boundaries, Wallace glanced around the room. For all that living in a mansion sounded cool, he wouldn’t want this particular one. The room felt...weird. Not like a place he could actually live. Dimly lit, with dark wood trim and heavy furniture, everything looked too expensive to actually be comfortable.

Veronica’s duffle sat in the middle of the large queen bed, still zipped. Casey stared at it, then Wallace.

“Let’s look around first, then check that out if we have to.” He answered Casey’s unspoken question, shuddering at the thought of pawing through Veronica’s underwear.

Casey shrugged and moved to the fireplace mantle, running a finger through the dust there. “Weird that this giant house doesn’t have a staff.”

“It’s weird to me that any houses do.” Wallace shoved his hands in his pockets, trying not to feel uncomfortable. He had forgotten how disconnected ‘09ers were from reality.

“So, Walter—”

“Wallace,” he corrected, shooting Casey a dirty look.

“Right, right. We ran track together?”

“Played basketball.”

So much for the bond between teammates.

“Sorry.” Casey shrugged, unapologetic. “High school seems like forever ago.”

“‘Murder at the High School Reunion’ isn’t jogging your memories?”

“How’d you get invited to this, anyway?” Casey avoided the question, eyes narrowing. “No offense, but it’s not really your crowd.”

Wallace wasn’t sure himself, but there was no way he’d admit that. “Token black guy in the horror movie, remember?”

Determined to change the subject, he shifted his weight from side to side, formulating a plan.

What would Veronica do?

“Okay. Veronica was on the balcony, so let’s start out there.”

Casey raised his eyebrows but didn’t argue. “What kind of ‘clues’ are we looking for?”

Ignoring Casey’s sarcastic finger quotes, Wallace opened the door to the balcony. He inspected the handle and the latch. No scratches. “Anything weird or out of place.”

“This whole weekend is weird,” Casey muttered, shoulders hunched against the cold wind and swirling snow.

That’s an understatement.

The light from Veronica’s room spilled out into the small space, illuminating it. But the snow had continued to fall, obscuring any tracks left earlier. He scanned the railing, the outside of the door, and the outer wall. His balcony was visible from hers, but the distance was too great to jump.

He gazed up. “Could someone have jumped down from an upper balcony?”

Casey followed his gaze, looking up into the falling snow. He shook his head. “I don’t see how you could get the angle right. Whoever it was would have needed to land behind Veronica, so I don’t think so.”

“No marks from a Batman grappling hook. And Spider-Man wouldn’t leave tracks.”

Casey rolled his eyes. “Can we go back inside already? It’s freezing.”

Wallace gestured grandly at the open glass doors and Casey hurried through.

“Uh, check under the bed, I guess, and in the closet,” he instructed, stopping to look at the books on the bookshelf.

They were mostly the expected gothic novels, fitting the style of the mansion—Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights type of stuff. Bleak House, indeed. At least Veronica would appreciate the Complete Works of Arthur Conan Doyle.

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets didn’t really fit the theme. Wallace grabbed the spine to inspect the book and, soundlessly, a narrow door slid open on the right side of the fireplace.

He placed the book back. The door closed, wooden panel blending seamlessly with its surroundings once again. Casey’s head was still in the closet.

“Casey,” he whispered. “Check it out.”

He opened the hidden door again, then met Casey’s eyes. The blasé look was finally wiped off his face.

“Dude, is that a secret door?” He scrambled to look, peeking his head into the dim space.

“Is it a closet? Or…?” Wallace trailed off, his mind racing.

“Do you have a flashlight? There’s no light switch or pull cord.”

“Veronica had two earlier. I know she stashed one in her purse, but maybe…”

Leaving The Chamber of Secrets pulled out on the shelf, he moved to the bed, patting her duffle bag. It felt promising.

Unzipping the bag—decidedly not looking at Veronica’s unmentionables—he found a small black Maglite resting on top of a pair of pajama pants.

“Score.”

“Only Veronica would think to pack extra flashlights,” Casey quipped as Wallace flicked it on.

“Good thing, too.”

He shone the light into the doorway, revealing not a closet, but a narrow hallway lined with stone and rough-hewn beams.

“A secret passage,” Casey whispered, his eyes shining with excitement.

“Now we know how someone got the drop on V.”

“Should we go tell someone else? Or…?

They shared a look, Casey’s unspoken question hanging in the air. The thrill of excitement tingled along Wallace’s skin.

“We’re totally checking that out. It’s too cool not to. But we’re gonna be smart about it.”

He surveyed the room, making a quick evaluation.

“Um, grab that chair and we’ll use it to prop the door open. Are there any candles or anything?”

While Casey grabbed the wooden chair from the desk set, Wallace rifled through the dresser drawers. They were empty.

“Jackpot.” Casey held up a flashlight from an open desk drawer.

“Great. Is there a pen?”

Casey tossed him a ballpoint from the desk and he ripped the cover page out of The Chamber of Secrets.

“Sorry, J.K. Rowling,” he muttered, scribbling a note to Veronica just in case. He left it on the bed next to her duffle, then led the way down the narrow hallway. Casey followed.

The small passage turned and connected with a main corridor. Shining his flashlight at chest level, Wallace could see handmade labels for each offshoot.

“Wallace. Logan. Dick. Carrie. Susan,” he read as he moved along the space. “Our room assignments. So whoever set this up can keep track of us.”

“Super creepy.”

Wallace met Casey’s wide eyes, glinting in the dim light. He wasn’t wrong.

“Wanna keep going?”

“Hell yeah.”

They followed the wooden tunnel, finding labels for all the Neptune guests, until they came to a twisting spiral staircase.

“Go down or continue on this level?” Wallace asked, pointing his flashlight in both directions.

“Down is probably the main floor. Up would just be more bedrooms, maybe an attic, eventually? Let’s finish the second floor, see what’s here.”

Casey’s plan sounded fine to him. A systematic exploration made sense. Maybe he should have been taking notes or drawing a diagram or—

As he took another step forward, the floorboards shifted beneath his feet, giving out a loud groan. He froze.

“Uh, Casey? I’m not sure this tunnel is stable.”

“Maybe it’s just the house settling. The wind and snow and all that stuff.” Casey’s voice was confident behind him, but he wasn’t in the lead.

Wallace shifted forward, shuffling his feet. The floor bowed under his weight and he halted again.

“I don’t know, man. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Okay. Stick closer to the wall.”

“Or you could just turn around,” Wallace hissed. He’d like to avoid being murdered this weekend but dying in a collapsed secret passage was also not on his to do list. He shined his flashlight on the floor, illuminating a stretch of dark, rotten wood in the middle of the path.

“Just step carefully. I wanna see where it goes.”

Wallace spun to face him, gesturing with his flashlight. “You’re more than welcome to go first, then, but I don’t think—”

“Fine by me.”

Casey’s arrogant tone set his teeth on edge as they tried to switch places in the cramped space. The wooden planks protested again.

“No, that’s not—”

Wallace stopped speaking as the rotten floorboards gave way beneath them. He jumped to the side, flattening himself against the wall and narrowly avoiding falling through.

The sound of breaking glass was deafening as the chandelier crashed to the ground in the great room below them, visible through the gaping hole in the floor.

#veronica mars #veronica mars fanfic #vm fanfic #vmhq presents #murder we wrote #round robin

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

Text

Run to Paradise {Nikki Sixx} Part 21

21. you look like a man you’ll never meet

Summary: They all have houses! The tour is over! Lola and Nikki fight about what is and isn’t a shitty father!

Warnings: uh, drinking and drugs and blowjobs in ikea but not explicitly. arguments about shitty parents.

ragtag bunch of misfits: @starlalove @toofasttofallinlove @xrosegoldwolfx @obsessivesky @trpwthme @lovehelpmewrite @colsons-crue @marvelismylifffe @lilytalebi @glitterdreamsz @freddiessmallnipples @crazysaladchopshop @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @dramatique-moi @missqueeniewrites @calspixie @aryssav @catsoo12 @sweetshutter @silvertonguedserpent @shamelessobsessions @lavenderbones22 @keepcalm-and-beyou @scarecrowmax @nicholeh7 @unknownoblivion

{masterlist}

Three houses. No license. Three different sets of emotions and feelings that can pass for love. More money than her family ever had locked in a safe in the back of her closet with her piano score books.

When they get back from tour, the four of them clear out what little shit they care about from the apartment. Vince doesn't even bother coming to collect anything.

"If I've left any shit there, burn it."

Tommy, after hearing that, follows his lead, but he comes along for nostalgia, if nothing else. Nikki collects a few stashes of drugs and cash that he'd left behind in case of emergency. Lola collects up the porn magazines and piano sheet music she'd left in the closet, along with a folded up piece of paper that Tommy snatches the moment it catches his interest. His expression turns amused as he unfolds it.

"You have got the weirdest fuckin' spank bank, Lo," he turns the photo to Nikki, who laughs, though Lola's expression sours considerably and she tries to awkwardly get the picture back, "seriously, in with all those nudie mags you've got a fuckin' photocopy of a burnt picture of an old, Hawaiian dude?" He squints at words written on the back, reads out the first of two names; "Oh, Maleko Fields, sounds saucy, or is he Kaitlin?" Lola actually flinches at that, but he doesn't seem to notice, "Either way, I've gotta hand it to you, that's an extremely specific-"

"That's my dad, you asshole!" It comes out as a growl, and Tommy's face falls. Lola grabs the old picture back, carefully refolding it and tucking it into the front of one of the piano books.

The three of them are looking for places, but they crash on Vince's sofa until they find ones they like, though it doesn't take long. They're not exactly picky, just wanting something gaudy, with a good view, and a pool, and more bathrooms than any of them rightly need. Lola doesn't care much about how the house is decorated, but she calls up Doc the morning after she and Nikki are given the keys; she wants a piano, and she wants him to put her in touch with whoever can give her the gaudiest, most expensive piano known to man.

"I want Elton John to have fucked on it, I want those keys diamond encrusted, I want Freddie fucking Mercury to have done coke off of it, I want the Piano Man piano!" She announces, standing in the sparsely decorated living room, hand on her hip, looking out the window, already feeling herself getting bored of the conversation and wanting to explore the balcony and the view beyond.

"Are you fucking high? It's not even nine," Doc grumbles. It's a Sunday, Lola doesn't even consider for a second that she might have woken him up. If you pay enough money, anyone will get up when you ask, real estate agents and band managers alike, is how she reasons it.

"Of course I'm fucking high, and I've got a house of my own and cash to blow; I want what Johann Sebastian Bach had! I want Tchaikovsky, I want Stravinsky, I want fucking Gershwin!" She demanded, getting louder and more dramatic with each name she rattled off.

"If you yell one more composer at me, you're fired." Doc cuts her off, before yawning, "listen; you guys are coming in next week to start work on the new album, right? I'll get a number for you by then if you promise to make sure they're here on time."

"On time?" Lola actually laughs. Doc sighs, and gives her an hour leeway, but they come to an agreement.

Nikki's still asleep on the mattress on the floor of their new bedroom, but Lola's strung out body clock had her up at four in the morning, and she hasn't been able to get back to sleep. She watched the sun rise over the LA skyline on one side of the house, lost track of time watching the ocean from their balcony on the other side while drinking a bottle of spiced rum, swam naked in their brand new pool, and tried to make a list of all the furniture they needed to buy, but just ended up writing sofa and underlining it five times as she lay on the plush carpet of the living room.

The photocopy of the photo of Lola's father sits on the kitchen island, staring silently at the ceiling; Nikki calls it creepy when he wakes up. He laments for a moment about not having a fridge before pulling a beer from the case they'd opened the night before in celebration.

"Why is it burned?" He asks, cracking the can, "and why haven't you finished the job?" He snickers and takes a loud, obnoxious sip. Lola gives him a shove, glaring down at the picture for a long moment.

"Because he's fuckin' out there somewhere, and what if I forget what he looks like?" She turns, raising her eyebrows at Nikki expectantly.

"So you keep it around so you know who to burn when the real thing shows up?" He asks, and Lola scowls. "Why don't I know shit about your parents?" Nikki asks bluntly. Lola takes the drink from his hands and begins to gulp it down, but he steals it back, and ends up getting beer all over both of them in the struggle.

"I'm not gonna burn my dad," Lola, beer covered and strung out at midday on a Sunday, speaks in a tone that Nikki can't quite identify. Her hand comes up to scratch at her shoulder blade, and he's not even sure if she's aware that she's doing it. "He was great, okay? When he was around he was great. When - when he comes back, I wanna show him that I'm better, alright? That - you know what? Fuck it, I don't have to explain shit to you, Nikki." Her whole face scrunches up and she picks up the photo.

"If he was such a great fuckin' guy, why'd he leave? Great dads don't fuckin' do that-"

Lola pushes Nikki had enough that he actually falls on his ass, and there's tears in her eyes.

"I get that you're dad's an asshole, Frankie, but-"

"Shut up!" Nikki snaps, scrambling to his feet, expression furious, "you fucking bitch, that's not my name-"

"Don't talk shit about my fucking dad!" Lola steps up to him, her hands braced against his chest, but he catches her wrists before she can shove him again.

"He sounds like a fucking dirtbag!"

"You're the dirtbag; don't take your daddy issues out on me!" Lola doesn't fight his hold, just glares up at him as tears begin to flow down her cheeks. Nikki's mouth is pressed into a thin, unhappy line.

"A dirtbag with daddy issues, and mommy issues; a slut with no standards, no taste, and good hair?" He laughs but it's bitter; he won't let her go, still holding her to him by her wrists. Lola's still crying, face twisted and angry, but she doesn't step back or try and escape his grip, "we're two sides of the same fuckin' coin, Kaitie, and I know from shit dads. If your fuckin' dirtbag dad wasn't there when he could have been, when he should have been, then he's shit." His grip on her hands tightens just a little. "No exceptions. Burn his picture."

The damn bursts and Lola actually wails, presses her forehead to Nikki's chest. He doesn't hug her, his expression is stony as he tries not to think too hard about the moment he found himself in. He'd made Lola cry.

"You look just like him anyways." He's not sure what he means by that, and he's not even sure if Lola registered it.

"I hate you." He hears her sniffle quietly.

"You'll get over it."

It's the worst fight they've had in a while, and Lola pins her father's photo directly to the living room wall out of spite. She stays with Tommy for a few days, but Nikki still doesn't touch the picture.

With Tommy, she actually goes grocery shopping with him, as strangely domestic as it is. They take turns pushing the cart too fast down the aisles while the other rides on the front until Tommy loses control and Lola ends up winded and crushed against the cereal boxes. They try to cook together and almost start a fire, and end up eating pizza that first night Lola stays at the house. Tommy's sofa is excessively big, and they could easily spread out in space of their own, but they enjoy being tangled up with each other while Invasion of the Body Snatchers plays on his brand new TV.

If she never wanted to go back to Nikki, she knows she probably wouldn't have to. They haven't even been living together officially for two days and they're already fighting. Her body clock is fucked, and she contemplates her life at five in the morning, watching the gentle rise and fall of Tommy's chest with his breathing as he sleeps soundly.

She loved Tommy, and she knew he loved her, and the same could be said for Vince, and even Mick, though to a much lesser extent. The point is, if she wanted to keep running from herself, she'd never lack accommodation, she'd never lack love, in one way or another. Doc had once told her that she was very easy to love, when she wanted to be, very easy to be endeared towards when she wasn't spitting acid or starting a fight or kicking up a stink. Even Doc himself admitting to being rather endeared to her, though he clarified that 'it's like the love you have for a rescue animal, a stray you nurse back to health and give to a shelter'. She's smacked him angrily, and told him she was a person. Doc agreed, but his words had stuck with her.

Very easy to love. Very hard to like.

When she gets back to her house, it's almost six, almost sunrise, the house is still mostly empty, and Nikki's awake. The picture's still on the wall, and he's sitting on a deck chair on the balcony with a bottle of Jack for company. The sun rises on the other side of the house, but he's fixated on the ocean.

"His name was Maleko, and my mom's name was Irene."

"I didn't-" he seems confused to see her there at all. But Lola's quick to cut him off.

"Shut up, I'm telling you about my parents," Lola grabbed the bottle from him, sitting cross legged on the cool tiles right by him, looking out at the ocean.

"Why?"

"Because I've know you for years, and it's weird that I haven't told you about my family, okay? You were right." She tipped the bottle back, swallowing hard.

"You look like your dad," Nikki's voice is softer this time, though it's neither positive nor negative, and Lola snorted a laugh.

"Yeah, it was the only part about me mom liked after he left." She inhaled sharply, passing back the bottle, "like I said, his name was Maleko, but from what I can remember, he went by Leo, and I don't know why he left, but he's not a damn dirtbag, okay? He was kinder than my fucking mom ever was, and-" she clenched her jaw, pausing for a moment to search her jacket pockets for her cigarettes, before lighting one, "and listen, I just wanted him to be proud, I just wanted him to smile again, because I swear that motherfucker was made of sunshine." She angrily wiped a tear from her eye before it spilled.

Nikki was quiet for a very long time, didn't know what to say, still up from the night before, and drunk as all hell. He reached out and scratched at Lola's scalp gently, in liu of a reaction. She just laughed.

"Why- why 're you back?" Nikki asked finally.

"Do you like me, Nikki?" She counters with, and Nikki hums a little, still scratching her hair.

"Of course, you're one of the few assholes I can put up with for more than a few days at a time," it's not the highest compliment in the world, but Lola's beaming nonetheless.

"I think I like you too," she snorted. Nikki's stopped scratching her head and is raising the bottle of Jack to his lips, frowning.

"Did we go back to the damn third grade? What's gotten into you?"

The house is undecorated because Nikki says he didn't have the patience to not go into a homicidal rage in IKEA. He won't admit that it felt weird to be buying furniture for their house without Lola. It's decorated mostly in blacks, or dark chestnut wood, and the bedframe is strong enough that Lola won't break it if she's tied up to it, and Lola buys a frame for her father's photo. They buy a new sofa, and Lola feels the strangest, most irrational twinge of guilt, like she's betrayed the sofa they pulled off the curb all those years ago; she tells Nikki and he smirks, offers to buy a box cutter and slash the sofa up to make it feel like home.

"Or we could just fuck on it until it's got just as many stains," he grins, it's all sharp teeth and the promise of a bigger bite.

"Now you're speaking my language," she smirks back, and she grabs his hand, pulls him behind a display bedroom set with a particularly large cupboard. She sucks him off before some underpaid assistant can interrupt them, and he repays the favor in the store's bathroom, and somehow this is the strangest situation they've ever gotten each other off in. Clubs, pubs, hotel pools, closets at TV studios, parks, alley ways, any number of places on tour that Lola honestly doesn't remember - they've got nothing on a furniture store where they're deciding on furnishings for their shared house. Lola doesn't want to think about why that is, so she just enjoys the moment.

It seems like no time at all before they're back in the studio, and so when they're not working, they're drinking, and partying, and using their mansions the way LA mansions often found themselves being used; for parties.

Tommy's out every night in LA, still looking like he could walk on stage at any minute, but he has a few starlets calling him up every so often. If he's not at clubs, he's with the Vince at a strip club, and sometimes Nikki's with them, though Lola's there about as often as Vince. Vince himself got his heart caught on a woman he meets at a club named Sharise, who is lovely and loud and beautiful, and she calls Lola 'sweetheart' without making it sound condescending, even when she's coming out of Vince's mansion and Lola's coming in, both fully aware of the situation at hand.

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't actually know my name," Lola sits on Vince's marble countertops in her underwear, eating grilled cheese in the afternoon. Later, Tommy and a few other guys Lola sort of knows will be around, pregaming before they hit the town. Maybe Sharise will come by, maybe she'll bring friends; Lola likes when she brings friends, finds she likes getting ready to go out with girls, sometimes even more than getting ready with the band.

Back in the present, with Lola on the counter, Vince laughs where he's mixing a bunch of spirits in a fancy glass and calling it a cocktail, even though it seems closer to molotov rather than anything you'd be able to find at a bar.

"Sorry, baby, do you want a formal introduction?" He asks, and offers the drink to Lola to try.

"Needs more Captain Morgan," Lola wrinkled her nose after a hearty gulp, handing it back, "and yeah, maybe, I don't know; you seem pretty serious about her."

"Why've you gotta keep drinking like you're broke, at this point I'm begging you to get better taste," Vince took back his drink with a faux wounded expression, holding it to his chest before he took a tentative sip. Lola's eyes shined with amusement.

"Believe me, lover boy, you don't want me to raise my standards in any way, shape, or form." Her leg comes down from the counter, dangling by the cabinets, and she leans back onto her elbows, cheeky smile on her lips as she poses, a challenging look in her eyes.

"Ouch," Vince snorts, but he's clearly not hurt by her words as he leans in and kisses her. When he pulls back, however, he's more contemplative than Lola's used to seeing him, and he sips his drink again before letting his thoughts form words; "I mean, yeah, Sharise-" he pauses, "there's just something about her, dude, she's hot and sweet and fuck, she's got a real bite to her-"

"Of course, you wouldn't like her half as much if she wasn't at least a little bit mean to you," Lola teased.

"Watch it, it's the only reason I keep you around anymore," Vince fires back with a smirk, and though they both know it's not true, Lola plays along.

"Oi! I also give fantastic head."

Sharise is going to be around for a while, and she and Lola get along well enough, so Vince will walk that tightrope as long as he possibly can.

Lola splits her time between houses, between her partners, although occasionally Tommy will spend the night with her and Vince, or her and Nikki, though Nikki's never been one to take the initiative the way the others would. Both Vince and Nikki's places have a piano, while Tommy has a keyboard in his studio, and Lola finds herself playing more and more.

For a while, for a good, long while, Lola thinks she might be happy. She finds herself taking less pills, if only to clear her head enough to remember how to play her favourite songs, though she's still drinking rum like it's water, and taking more coke than any reasonable person probably should.

It won't last, this feeling, this contentment, she knows it won't last, but right now, she's playing Elton John, watching the sun set over the Ocean, while Nikki applies his eyeliner in the bathroom, and Vince is singing along where he's eating Chinese food in the kitchen with Tommy. Someone rings the doorbell, and she can hear more cars pulling up, and there's a strange, warm pride that fills her chest.

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx x oc #Motley Crue #motley crue imagine #vince neil #vince neil imagine #Tommy Lee #tommy lee imagine #the angry lizard writes #the dirt #the dirt imagine

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ericsonclan · 4 years

Text

Pinterest Perfect

Summary: An overheard conversation leads Prisha to wonder what she'd want her own wedding to look like someday.

Read on AO3:

Sophie and Marlon were eating lunch together in the break room when Prisha came in, planning to grab her coat before heading out for the day. As she passed by the table, she overheard some of the conversation they were having.

“Absolutely no meatballs at our wedding,” Marlon declared, taking another bite of his meatloaf.

“Really? I would have had you pegged as a meatball sub sorta dude,” Sophie replied, chewing on a carrot stick.

“Had a bad experience as a kid. Scarred me for life,” Marlon shivered before returning to his food.

“Well, we both know my number one rule…”

“No clowns,” the couple said in unison, fist bumping with a smile.

Prisha watched the conversation with amusement. She’d heard of this game the two of them liked to play: listing things they should and should not have at their wedding. It was some sort of ongoing joke between the couple, to continue casually planning their wedding even as they weren’t engaged or anywhere near that sort of thing. “Tell me, Sophie,” Prisha began, putting on her coat. “Do you think it ever could have been a real possibility that Marlon would arrange for clowns to come to your wedding?”

“Can never be too careful,” Sophie waggled the end of her carrot stick before popping it into her mouth. “Clowns show up when you least expect them. They’re sneaky that way,”

Prisha chuckled at her friend’s logic. “Well, you two have a good lunch. I’ll see you tomorrow,”

“Bye, Prisha!” the couple called in unison before returning to their mock wedding plans.

Prisha smiled to herself as she headed out to her car. Planning out their wedding so causally with no actual arrangements in place. Those two really make quite the pair.

---

Once she was home, Prisha found herself lost as to what she would do with the rest of her day. It had been an unexpected half-day at work, the builders coming in early to begin work on improvements to the bar. Perhaps she would finally get around to clearing out her inbox. Sitting on her couch, Prisha opened her laptop and began the monotonous but rewarding process. A few minutes into the process, she accidentally clicked a Pinterest notification that popped up rather than the email she’d intended and was whisked off in a separate tab for the website. Prisha glanced with mild interest at her feed. She hadn’t used Pinterest in a while, mostly referencing it for inspiration when decorating her apartment as well as providing the occasional healthy recipe.

It was so easy to get sucked in again with all the aesthetic, perfectly framed images. One in particular caught Prisha’s eye: a girl in a white sundress standing in a field of sunflowers. The girl’s short blonde hair reminded her of Violet’s. As Prisha gazed at the picture, a thought wandered into her mind. That sort of looks like a wedding dress. As soon as the thought coalesced, Prisha felt her cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Immediately she closed her computer, standing up to get the tea she’d been considering. Beginning the electric kettle, she tried to think of other things to distract herself, but her thoughts simply kept returning to Sophie and Marlon and that lighthearted wedding conversation they’d been planning. They made the whole discussion look so easy, so natural.

Prisha poured the hot water over her packet of Earl Grey, warily eyeing her laptop as it lay upon the couch. There’s nothing wrong with daydreaming, is there? Hesitantly, Prisha returned to her computer, opening it back up. The screen immediately displayed Pinterest again. As she clicked on the search bar, a menu of suggested searches popped down with several categories. Desserts, sunsets, DIY furniture… weddings. This site is reading my mind. Prisha gulped heavily before clicking on the Weddings option. What sort of rabbit hole had she let herself wander into?

There were endless ideas for weddings on Pinterest: color schemes, flower arrangements, wedding gowns, cakes, there seemed to be an infinitesimal number of things to take into consideration when planning a wedding. Scrolling through the feed, Prisha found her eyes drawn to the wedding dresses first. There were so many options, so many different styles. Long, short, fitted, flowy, the fashion choices seemed infinite. Prisha gazed at a fitted mermaid, lace dress for several seconds, entranced by it. Could I pull something like that off? The woman in the photo appeared to have a similar body type. What would Violet think?

Violet always seemed to like whatever Prisha was wearing. There hadn’t been a single time where she’d said anything against a single one of Prisha’s outfits. Truth be told, she probably didn’t think about fashion very much, but her eyes did light up a certain way when she noticed Prisha was wearing one of her favorites: the cranberry red cocktail dress, that one pair of jeans that always did wonders for Prisha’s butt, her warm grey cardigan that was extra snuggly on cold nights. Whatever Prisha chose, she wanted it to make Violet’s eyes sparkle in that way.

I don’t know why I’m talking as though this is an inevitability, Prisha scolded herself. Marriage wasn’t even something that either of them had put on the table. But rather than continuing to scold herself on the likelihood of this even happening, Prisha found her mind back on the wedding dress train. Would they both wear dresses? She’d never seen Violet in a suit before. The girl didn’t own anything fancier than a jean jacket. Prisha found herself liking the idea of them both wearing dresses more and more though. Perhaps in different styles so they’d both stand out. Violet could wear something comfortable, maybe one of those cute shorter dresses with the pockets. They didn’t have to both be in white either. Prisha wondered how a cream dress would look against her own skin. There was a particularly lovely gray dress that she quite fancied too…

Amongst all the wedding dresses there were a myriad of other wedding ideas too. Prisha found the outdoor weddings to be the loveliest. It would be beautiful to be married under the trees with the natural light breaking through the branches and scattering upon us. Then at night we could dance under the stars. There were several photos of trees covered in twinkle and curtain lights. Such a simple touch truly brought magic with it. After coming across a particularly lovely photo of just such an arrangement, Prisha finally bit the bullet and made a secret board for herself so she could keep track of her favorite photos. Scrolling back up a ways, she collected several other pins that had caught her eye before returning to the point where she had been.

There were so many elaborate weddings, ones that looked as though they would be massively expensive. I believe we’d both want to keep things simple, Prisha thought to herself. A small ceremony with only our closest friends. Things like the cake and the bouquet could be kept simple as well. A white cake, classic, with some flowers curling round its tiers. Violets would be too on the nose and probably just irk Violet. Prisha didn’t see any cakes with them, but she wondered to herself if it would be possible to decorate a cake with morning glories. After all, Violet was her Morning Glory, it would be lovely to have that special name be celebrated at their wedding.

I’m smiling like a fool, aren’t I? Prisha thought, feeling the expression tug at the corner of her lips. No matter. It wasn’t as though there were anybody about to see her giddiness. Should we both have bouquets or just one of us? Would we walk up the aisle together? One at a time? Prisha supposed with all these things it would come down to what worked best for them. She’d never really considered being walked down the aisle, but Prisha supposed that if her father weren’t there to walk her down the aisle as would likely be the case, she’d rather do it on her own or not at all. Violet on the other hand… Would Louis walk her down the aisle? Prisha chuckled aloud at the thought. She knew Louis would be absolutely ecstatic about that idea. He’d probably fight off anyone else who tried to take the role, though Prisha didn’t think Mitch or Marlon would put up much of a fight.

Ringbearers, flower girls… Willy could be the ring bearer. Prisha was quite fond of the boy. Then again Violet was very much attached to Tenn. Why not both? Then A.J. as the flower boy. Probably not, Prisha thought with a smile imagining the chaos that would ensue with those three together. But it’s certainly an entertaining thought. Bridesmaids and brides.. men? Why not both? That seems to be the theme of this whole ceremony, Prisha thought wryly. Clementine and Louis were most likely to take the positions of honor among the wedding party, making the toasts and planning the bachelorette parties.

Ruby and Omar would likely take on the catering for the wedding while Renata handled the cake. Prisha was sure come hell or high water, Ruby would get involved in other aspects of the wedding as well: dress shopping, flower arrangements, wedding decorations. Considering how excited Ruby got during themed nights at Ericson’s Diner, that excitement was sure to rise tenfold for a wedding. Thinking of their friends and coworkers getting involved in wedding prep filled Prisha with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Prisha could just imagine all of them coming together and helping make this dream a reality. Perhaps I should look at rings next.

The sound of the front door unlocking had Prisha jumping off the couch in fright. Violet stood in the doorway, a to-go bag in one hand and the key to Prisha’s apartment in the other. She looked apologetically at her girlfriend. “Shit, did I scare you? Louis asked to switch shifts with me so I got off early. Picked up some food on the way here. Figured we could make a night of it, have an early dinner, but if you’re busy-”

“Not at all,” Prisha declared, closing the tab and slamming her laptop shut. She threw it off to the side where it landed upon a beige pouf she kept off in the corner. “What sort of food did you bring?”

“Thai. Figured we’d switch things up,” Violet closed the door behind her and walked over into the kitchen, beginning to take out the various boxes of food she’d carried within the bag. Prisha came over to help her. Violet glanced up and a shy smile crossed her face before she looked away.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” Violet paused. “You’re wearing the earrings I got you,”

Prisha’s hand came up instinctively, brushing against one of the earrings. It had been a six-month anniversary present: a gold pair of earrings, a moon and a star. Prisha knew they were far nicer than anything Violet owned herself. “I love them. They match with everything too,”

Violet nodded. “I thought they would,” She glanced over at the television. “So… Cutthroat Kitchen tonight?”

“Sounds perfect,” They’d soon found the show to be the perfect combination of strategy and chaos to keep both of them entertained. After grabbing their food, both girls settled down on the couch, ready for a night of relaxation. Raising her legs up, Violet put them across Prisha’s lap without another thought. Prisha smiled. Violet had been so nervous about physical touch when they first started dating. It was nice to see how far they’d come together.

Running her hand absentmindedly along her girlfriend’s leg, Prisha glanced over at her abandoned laptop. The board she’d made for herself seemed like a faraway dream now. But being here with Violet, Prisha knew it wasn’t simply a fantasy for her. It was something she wanted, not quite yet, but someday. And every day with Violet made that someday feel closer and closer. With that thought in mind, Prisha grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.

#twdg #twdg violet #twdg prisha #twdg privet #twdg sophie #twdg marlon #twdg marlie #fanfic #ericson's diner au

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thepenisparker · 6 years

Photo

Mob!College!Tom Holland AU - Part One.

teaser ✵ part 1 ✵ part 2 ✵ part 3 ✵ part 4 ✵ to be continued...

summary: Tom Holland is quick and in a hurry to prove himself to his family business, so when his final mission before his dad hands him the torch is to protect some college girl by any means necessary. It should be easy. Right?

words: 2769

Summer was finally over, and if 15-year-old you had heard you say such a thing surely you would've stabbed yourself. But the end of summer meant all your friends would come back. People would refill the small college you wanted to go back to. Home wasn't the same when you came back from college, right when you started to get used to it, you got thrown back home where most of your friends you didn't talk to anymore or just plain didn't have many to begin with.

Kingston University was your home now, it was a private, selective and put students in cohorts that would then be categorized by their major. Yourself, you considered yourself a writer. But you weren't exactly keen on getting an English degree and went for a communications degree. Don't ask why, it was flexible. Going into your second year excited you, getting out of the house again and away from the toxicity at home.

"Welcome back!" you heard leadership teams yell with signs and covered in school spirit, truly it looked like your mascot threw up on them. What was funny was you knew some of them, and their school spirit wasn't as high as they led on. Remembering when the guy in the cut up school t-shirt took a piss on the statue in front of the junior housing.

You drove your car to a parking space in your new sophomore housing. You didn't really have any friends in your cohort, so you were nervous about meeting who would be your randomized roommate. Instead, you had friends who were all creatives with film and performing arts majors. You found them rather quickly, they had a tendency to be quite loud and outgoing.

"(Y/N)!" You were attacked with a hug walking out of the parking lot and into sophomore housing court. It was your one of 2 of your very best friends you gained in school, she was apart of the performing arts cohort with majoring in commercial music and all, Annika.

"Hey, babe." You hugged her back, excited to see her after so long.

"Where are you staying? Do you know yet?" She asked, "Sarah isn't here yet, but we're living on the bottom floor, so you better be above us. Then we know who to kill if there's too much noise."

"I don't know yet, where do I go?" You asked, she pointed over to a table with a long line, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder. She had the most incredible big blue eyes that seemed to have flecks of green in them. She also had just recently gotten her nose pierced, which really suited her face.

"How was your summer?" Annika asked you, waiting patiently with you.

"Long, did a lot of working at the pub. I think I saved up enough money to get me through a day of school." You joked.

"I feel you, dude." Annika laughed, "Have you tried for any scholarships?"

"Every single one they'll let me apply for. I got emails back on 2 of them for next semester. This semester I'm getting only a quarter paid for though. It's looking like my graduation will just be me celebrating my life of debt." You said, rubbing the back of your neck with how far in it you are.

You continued to talk about Annika’s trip to Ecuador, where she did some charity and life-changing work with a group of friends. She invited you to it, and you wanted to go if it wasn't so expensive. You were used to not having that kind of money now, your family was always well off but now that you went against everything they believed in you don't have that source anymore. The home you came from made you grow up really quickly, this was just the last thing you had to take on.

"Next!" You heard a voice come from next to you, and you stepped up to the table quickly.

"Hi!" You happily looked up to see one of your upperclassmen friends sitting there, Sav.

"Hey! How was your summer?" They asked you,

"Long, lots of work." You sighed, having just telling Annika the same.

"That's good you're working though! Getting that cash." They smiled, looking over their list, "And I know exactly where you're staying, I'm your RA!"

"No way!" You squealed, reaching over to hug them.

"Yeah, here is your key. Room 209, and our floor meeting is tonight in the lounge at 10 PM. Don't be late." Sav said, handing you your key.

"Thank you, do you know who my roommate is?" You asked.

"It says, Victoria Reinhart?" Sav told you, tentatively, "I'm sorry I haven't met her."

"All good, thanks Sav. I'll see you later!"

"See you!"

"Well?" Annika urged, seeing you approach her with your key.

"Room 209?" You offered and she frowned.

"136." Annika said, "But I think Tony and Jacob are in 109, at least I think that's what they said."

"Oh, great." You rolled your eyes, knowing full well how loud those two were going to be.

"Speaking of—" Annika started but was cut off by the yells of two boys, so covered in school colored paint they were practically unrecognizable. They were yelling for you, and then suddenly you were thrown over their shoulder as they ran across the quad with you.

"Hey!" You pounded on their backs, scared of what they had planned, "Guys hold on! Put me down!"

“Okay.” The one on the left said and you recognized him as your friend Jacob. Typical.

Then you found yourself being dropped into the fountain on campus. It wasn’t particularly deep, but you were definitely soaked, with one of the spouts falling onto your head when you sat up.

“Are you okay?” You heard a voice, overall the laughter and heard the splashing of feet. You got yourself up out of the torture of the water pouring on your head to open your eyes to a boy who voluntarily got into the water. The bottoms of his jeans now soaked from coming in. His hand outstretched to you, and his face soft with big brown eyes and the cutest bunch of curls falling over his forehead.

“Yeah.” You replied simply and quietly, you didn’t take his hand though. Following him out of the fountain as people whispered, wondering who the boy nobody had seen before rejoining a friend of his with aloof blue eyes on the side of the fountain. The boy with the blue eyes wasn’t happy with your friend in the fountain at all.

You lost him in the crowd, being overwhelmed by your spirited friends laughing and offering you a towel after their prank.

"You guys are dead." You splashed the boys who waited aside from the fountain.

"We told you last semester, you were just waiting to be dunked!" Tony laughed, you groaned remembering their jokes.

"Give me some kind of warning!" You said, holding the towel around your shoulders and wringing out your shirt. You kept looking around, admittedly searching for your brown eyed attempted savior.

"You're no fun." Jacob laughed, "Hey, come to our housewarming party tonight! Room 109, we're inviting the whole building."

"Won't you get in trouble?"

"Not if the RA's are down to party too." He laughed, "And they are, let me clear that up—they are."

"Yeah, well since I'm your upstairs neighbor I might as well." You rolled your eyes.

"That's what I like to hear! And (Y/N), if you have any hot friends—please—I beg you—bring them." Tony added, putting his hands together in prayer.

"I'll make sure to bring Annika and Sarah." You laughed. Tony mouthed a thank you.

"I hate them." Annika rolled her eyes, rubbing your shoulders.

"Annika, did you know that guy?" You asked.

"That guy who got into the fountain? No, I've never seen him before." Annika said, "Whoever he was he was hot though. I hope he's at Jacob and Tony's party."

"Yeah, me too." You said, looking around then finally landing on Annika in front of you, "Now, give me a hug?"

"Stop!"

✵

Later as you started bringing your things in, leaving your door propped open, you watched and waited for your roommate to make an arrival. Your room was quite nice, a front living space and kitchen attached, with a short back hall that had a bathroom on the left and on the right would be your shared bedroom. It was going to take a lot of getting used to and moving stuff in. You needed to get some furniture for the living space if Victoria didn't bring any.

You had already changed into dry clothes, but your hair was still damp. You decided you'd leave it like that until you would go over to Annika and Sarah's to get ready for tonight. You sat in your kitchen, fixing up a decoration on the wall.

You heard a door slam and a key fumble before you saw a familiar flop of brown hair walk past your doorway. You ran to the doorframe, not really thinking through your actions. Your curiosity pulling you closer. But if your first year of college taught you anything, it was not to wait for people to make friends with you.

"Hey!" You called, catching him just a few feet away. He turned around and the longer you looked at him, the more attractive he became. He had a bag slid across his chest, clinging his t-shirt to his body.

"Hey." He said back to you.

"A-are we neighbors?" You looked to where he must've just come from.

"Looks like it." He said, shortly and patting his thigh.

"I'm (Y/N), I just wanted to introduce myself." You extended a hand, and he took it, "I swear I don't always get pushed into fountains. They mean well."

"Tom." He said back, "I don't know why pushing you in a fountain would be meaning well, but hey that's all you."

"Yeah," You continued, feeling wary of his judgemental tone, "anyways, thank you for down there. That was very sweet of you."

"Your welcome." He said, making a thin line with his lips and turning them up at the corners. His eyes looking over your face.

"Uh, there's like an all building party tonight that my friends are hosting. Apparently, all the R.A's are in on it, don't ask. But you and your friend are welcome to come."

"Thanks, I'll pass on the message." He said, nodding and then started backing up. You smiled, backing up too.

"Ok, cool." You shied away, giving an awkward wave before stepping back into your room. You shut your door after that. That was enough awkward interactions for the rest of the year. You put your hands over your eyes and decided to turn up your music until your roommate would hopefully arrive.

Hey, Sav! Is it possible I can get my roommate's phone number? Just curious as to when she's coming.

Delivered 5:07 PM

You texted Sav. Then waited, and waited. They were probably busy, it was move-in day after all. Maybe Victoria asked to come a day late? You decided not to dwell on it for too long. You unpacked all your clothes into what you assumed would be your side of the closet. Grabbing out something you could wear for tonight.

Your friends were all a lot more riskay than you were, always able to find themselves dates for the night from how beautiful they always looked. You could if you wanted to maybe, and the occasional flirt here and there was sweet. But you had never gone home with someone. Tonight, that wasn't going to change. In high school, that's who you were, and had no judgment toward one night stands. But that wasn't what you wanted to do anymore, limiting yourself. You just wanted to get a little tipsy, socialize, and get back to your room and watch Netflix until you fell asleep.

But that didn't mean you couldn't look good. You grabbed one of your favorite heather gray knitted halter tops, with a pair of high waisted black skinny jeans, and a matching suede black jacket over your shoulders in case it got chilly outside, which usually it did. Grabbing your hair products and makeup, you left your room, praying you wouldn't run into Tom or his roommate, running to find room 136.

They had left the door open, and your reunion with your curly haired friend Sarah was a joyous one. Hugging each other, then her grabbing your sides at how attractive you looked in your outfit. You thanked her, before sitting on their new couch.

"How's the move-in been?" Sarah asked, sitting across from you with her own makeup mirror.

"It's been fine, my roommate hasn't come yet though." You frowned, "Oh, and Annika!"

"Huh?" Annika answered from the back bedroom.

"Guess who my neighbor is?"

"Is it the hot guy from English last semester?" She asked, half thinking.

"No.." You dragged out your answer, "It's the new hot guy."

"Shut up!"

"What hot guy?" Sarah perked up at the sound of a hot guy.

"Did Annika tell you about how Jacob and Tony finally threw me into a fountain?" You asked and Sarah's face scrunched up in confusion.

"What do you mean finally? But yeah."

"Long story, but there was a guy who came into the pond all cute and offered me a hand up." You said, "I think he's a transfer, he's my neighbor."

"Oo I wanna see him." Sarah said, "Are you gonna go after him?"

"I don't know-" You started,

"If you won't, I will!" Annika called.

"I just said I don't know cuz he acted kinda weird in the hall. Like sorta rude, I don't know. I invited him and his friend to the party but I don't know if they'll come. I'm telling you, something was off."

"Something being off means nothing as long as the dick’s good," Annika said, finally revealing her outfit, which consisted of: a black bralette, fishnets, high waisted distressed and cut up jean shorts, red thigh high boots and a jean jacket to finish.

"You look so hot, I guess you'll probably find out faster than I will." You smiled at your friend.

"Let's hope, I'm trying to celebrate the new year." She stuck her tongue between her teeth and went to a mirror in their hall to put her hair up.

"(Y/N), are you gonna try and find someone tonight?" Sarah asked.

"I doubt it." You rolled your eyes, "If a guy comes up to me that isn't trying to get to you guys or that one of you didn't put him up to it, then maybe. But that's never happened so let's not hold our breath. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone thought I was lesbian, and I'm okay with keeping it that way."

"Whatever you say, just know if you wanted to, any guy would be happy to have you. Trust us." Sarah said, getting up for her setting spray.

"Whatever, my lesbian ass is getting us a pizza though. Last time I drank without eating first I threw up on the hot guy from English last semester. And that's not happening again."

✵

You ran up to your room, wanting to throw your stuff in there before it was locked in Annika and Sarah's room for the upcoming day. Cautiously walking in wanting to see if your roommate had gotten there, you shut the door behind you, only hearing the party starting below you. There was no one else in there, just that you could hear Jacob and Tony excited to be finally able to host their own parties.

But you also could hear something else. You didn't realize how thin these walls were going to be. There was a bit of yelling next door, you heard muffles bits.

"That's none of our business!" You heard an unfamiliar voice and couldn't help yourself putting your ear to the wall. It was coming from Tom's room, "You know that's not what we're here for!"

"We're here to protect her..." there was something else but you couldn't hear it. Protect who?

"From afar! We're not supposed to get involved." You heard the other voice again, it was stern and close like he was sitting in a chair right on the other side of the wall.

"... my dad trusted us with this. I know what I'm talking about, promise."

"Fine, we'll go. But just watching. I don't want this to get fucked up, Tom. This is a big deal for us. I'm just trying to look out for you." You heard the close voice again. And felt more confused, and guilty for listening. Who the fuck were these guys?

Thank you guys so much for reading! please pass it on, and tell me what you thought by reblogging, liking or sending me a message!

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gyeommine · 6 years

Text

MONSTA X as Roommates

wow sorry this has been a LONG absence. i am swimming in school work and deadlines atm so bear w me. my final exams are this year so i am trying my best love u all <3

(all gif creds to the original owners)

Shownu:

( AN ACTUAL ANGEL )

okay so he’s a typical male but he tries really really hard okay?

he’ll say he will do his chores, make his bed or do his laundry

but he’s a busy sweetie

so he’ll fall asleep in a crumpled duvet

and it melts your heart so you have to do it

and he’ll always thank you super sincerely where his eyes disappear into his face and honestly ur roommate is the most adorable human alive.

u always catch him being an actual dad

he’ll be in his favourite sofa crevice, scratching his chin w his arm up in that position the bois make fun of him for.

and you have to try with all your might to not burst out laughing

instead you send a picture to the mx groupchat.

it’s called tender blackmail.

he also falls asleep on the sofa a lot but u can’t move him so

another dad thing he does is that he’s lowkey super protective

he’s not often an emotional person so it’s quite well hidden

but he does worry if you’re home later than him and will probably call u.

and will let out a prominent sigh of relief when you respond

lets you wear the baggy shirts he doesn’t wear anymore or so he claims

it just makes him chuckle when his shirts completely drown you

you also get to see a v sincere side to shownu

you can clearly see how his performing on top of variety shows exhausts him (esp when he claims variety is not his thing)

but he’ll never snap at you when he’s like that

because he’s so sincerely appreciative of having you around

but doesn’t disguise his dumbness

you guys can’t have many expensive ornaments

bc he’ll go to thoughtfully polish it to cheer you up

and end up breaking it

he’s a literal sweetheart that tries so hard, love him please

Wonho:

(wOW i would protecc this man w all my heart. purest)

he would be the sweetest roommate in th world

even tho he’s busy 24/7

he’ll sometimes randomly buy you your usual coffee

or he’ll see you’re almost out of milk or something

where he’ll promptly restock so you don’t have to

he’s incredibly thoughtful

it makes you a lil sad sometimes when he’s particularly busy

bc you miss him like crazy

but when he gets the chance, he makes sure he hangs out w you and dedicate some set time to his best friend

bc he really appreciates you

you’re both each other’s main support

he knows that when he walks in through the door after a shit day

you’ll be sat on the sofa ready to hear him out

it leads to way too many profound chats till like 3 in the morning

he’s a lil’ bit protective

on the rare occasion he’s not working and you’re not home

he’ll be snapchatting you, texting you

‘wonho i was just at the gym?’ ‘can i come too??!!”

and then suddenly you’re hanging out as per

living w wonho is the chillest thing

except when he neglects to wear a shirt when he’s having a lazy day

and you’re red in the face, throwing fabrics at him to cover him damn self.

friends or not it’s illegal for wonho to walk around like that

you both gel without arguments

you like the same films, music and even like to eat at similar places

never any arguments over takeout lol

you even end up giving each other skin care tips

which makes for a pretty blissful living arrangement if you ask me.

Minhyuk:

(a visual??????)

okay you two are the ultimate best friends.

you have a long list of movies and tv series/anime that you two have to watch together

primarily because you know how whiny and salty he will be if u break it

you’re both pretty relaxed roommates

like the dishes don’t need to be done right this second

magically chores still get done

thankfully, minhyuk isn’t the typical gross male

but he will probably shamelessly steal food that you have labelled

which is probably the only source of any conflict in your house.

when you’re both at home

you better believe this loud ass will wake you up super early to go do something together

“time to bond (y/n)!!!!” “what r u, 5?”

but you’re lowkey kinda grateful that he wants to do stuff with you

since you’re always afraid you’ll lose him to his schedule

you’re still super super close

you guys create your own dance routines and memorise current choreos that are trending

you prank each other, which may involve you printing pre-debut pictures of minhyuk and plastering them everywhere

you have you’re own handshake that may or may not last for like 5 minutes

and if either of you forget it oH THE b e t r a y a l

did i mention that minhyuk is a massive drama queen?

but in a funny way (unlike a certain member who’s about to follow)

you will have named your shared apartment, no doubt

and will reference its name in the invites of the house parties you guys host

you basically act like siblings when their parents go out for the evening... 24/7...

Kihyun:

(his smile could sAVE lives. it’s so bright)

the ‘drama queen’ i previously mentioned

if u wanted a relaxed roommate, dude look elsewhere

i reckon yoo kihyun is a clean freak

he is mad about a rota of chores, to ensure it’s equal

but i can imagine him redoing them anyway if they weren’t done exactly how he normally does it.

this causes some some minor bickering

it’s always resolved when you ask what you’re doing for dinner that night

you guys have this insane ability to just drop arguments in a flash

which is why the intense cleaning regime never bothers you

plus, it contents your parents that you don’t live in a pig sty

(and silently wish that they could hire kihyun to clean on the side)

but beneath the bitterness, he can be super thoughtful

he’ll remember a food you were craving that one time

and suddenly you’ll find it in the cupboards

when you ask, he’ll shrug it off

but he lowkey loves to cook for you.

you guys will love to buy furniture together

prepare yourself for many trips to look at random decorations or house plants to liven up your two dead souls

relishing the simple joys like buying new plates or cutlery like the secretly middle aged people you are.

surprisingly, yall have a v similar ideal

i can just picture this modern (not to mention spotless), monochromatic apartment in seoul

mx and your friends will be so jealous of how well you run your appartment together

although they quietly question your friendship, yall get it each other

your closeness is measured in bitterness and insults

and you don’t really need anyone to understand your friendship

bc it works

Hyungwon:

(ONE OF THE BEST LOOKING PPL IN KPOP HANDS DOWN hOLD me)

this living arrangement will be the exact opposite to living w kihyun

“organised mess”

it’s just you guys are always so busy with your careers and lives

so tidiness happens to be the bottom of the priority list

except when parents come over

then you’re doing hurdles over each other to tidy up

trying to find as many convenient dark spots in the place to hide unwashed laundry

when you are both at home

it’s a quiet contentedness in each other's company

you’ll most likely message each other instead of yell

but when you do call out to him, it usually takes 3-6 times before you receive at least a mumble in response

you’ll probably text each other when you’re right next to each other

well, if hyungwon’s even awake

you will definitely leave passive aggressive notes to each other

‘close the cupboard u moron - love (y/n) xoxo’

and hyungwon will reply on the same cupboard door

‘even ur writing is loud omg - hyungwon’

and the door will be wide ajar

and you’re genuinely not sure whether he hasn’t noticed the actual issue or is blatantly ignoring it

nevertheless, it’s your guys’ sense of humour

you guys probably stay up a lot together when you’re both free and not feeling up to doing much

a few beers while watching some b-rate movie to laugh at

but the film will soon be forgotten and you’ll be talking about anything from love to what vegetable you identify with

and end up falling asleep on the sofa next to each other at 6 am

and the cycle starts all over again

Jooheon:

(one of the sweetest dimpled people alive)

a golden, pure apartment

you guys are inseparable and the cutest friends alive

yall really take care of each other, even if its a little out yours’ way

you both can immediately sense when something is wrong

when you drag your feet into the flat, your face completely drained

jooheon is alert and ready to let you rant about your day

and he’ll offer to pay for food that night or cook something

likewise with him. you just sense when he needs a cry or a moan.

you guys are also super goofy

jumping around like 10 year olds to your favourite playlists

having your own lip sync battles and completely slaying the raps

i can also imagine you two having a redecorating day together

you playfully bickering over a shade of blue for the living room

idk it just seems like something you guys would do together

you also leave sweet notes for each other

especially if you don’t see each other at home for a while

you’ll wake up to a lil’ sticky note wishing you a pleasant day

it’s honestly sickly sweet

you’ll prank and tease the other members when they come over

because you guys are an unstoppable, mischievous duo

unfortunately shownu doesn’t really scare like jooheon does

so the tables over turn :/

jooheon has also put a ban on horror movies

because he’s so jumpy and he knows he’ll never live it down

you guys will also share a bed in a completely platonic way

like you have just missed your best friend

so you have a sleepover... in the flat you share... as adults

everybody just assumes you’re dating and mx think you should

esp when jooheon gets lowkey jealous when you go on dates, since he’s so openly protective of you

but you guys know where you’re at

and you’re happy as best friends

I.M:

(i love this gif of changkyun. look at his cheeks ahhhh)

you guys are long-term childhood friends so the apartment vibe is chill

you have been friends so damn long, you know exactly how each other click so there are rarely any problems

if there is, you threaten to blackmail w the thousands of ugly photos you have of him.

then you remember he has an equal amount as you, and the actual issues is dropped within seconds

because you guys are still goofy through it al

like i said, it’s a v chill household

chores get magically done, eventually, but there’s no real rush

but you are both rarely there to have to thrive in it

it does make kihyun want to die a little when he visits

changkyun is often at his own studio

and you’ll receive calls asking you to listen to something he’s produced and see what you think of it

it means you guys end up spending more time at his studio than the apartment you both pay for lmao

but it doesn’t bother either of you

sometimes, it does take some prompting from you to stop him from overworking himself

what you guys love to do is go out on drives

just drive somewhere completely random, sit and watch the night creep in

you guys can pretty much talk for hours and hours

be it reminiscing, talking about the future or about the new music that you have been listening to

this does mean changkyun always has headphones in

so you’ll have to call his name repeatedly to get his attention

your apartment will also always smell good

you both end up buying heaps and heaps of incense and candles

careful in not making the landlord believe you guys are doing drugs lmao

but it just creates such a relaxed atmosphere

and you don’t have to think too hard when buying each other presents

sorry if the lengths aren’t v well balanced. i had LOADS of ideas for some members and fewer for others. curse of writer’s brain grrrr. some of these were so cute, and i would so room w changkyun tbh

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basshouse · 5 years

Text

Donkeys Down Under Part 2

Make sure you start with this blog post, its the first in the series and this is a serial!

In the first post, I started with How We Got Here. Next up:

Where we are.

We live on Centaurus Road in Hillsborough, Christchurch (not-so-subliminal hint: sending a package will cost you an arm and a leg, but it’ll be worth it to see the smiles on our faces if you include a few packets of Hidden Valley Ranch mix).

Christchurch is the biggest city on the South Island, with a whopping 375,000 people or so – pretty big considering the whole country is just under 5 million people, and only about 30% of them live on the South Island at all. You can do your own research on the city’s history and geography if you like. The city is big enough to have good restaurants, bars, craft beer, and various forms of mild entertainment like tennis clubs, live music from time to time, exercise options...more cosmopolitan than we expected but super easy navigate and access to surfing beaches, mountains, rivers, lakes, coasts, bike trails.

Our house is perched on the Port Hills, a short walk from the renowned Rapaki Track and a 10 minute drive to Sumner Beach (our regular surfing spot). The house has great views, an extra room for guests, and a lot of character – including:

A bathroom with handmade cat tiles and a shower with a strong homemade underwater motif.

A crazy garden full of roses, really loud birds, the odd hedgehog, and a zillion fruit trees that we don’t know how to manage. Seriously, you should have seen me and Jason and Anily trying to shake down a tree full of plums without any useful protective gear – next time we’ll get out the ski goggles and helmets.

A small plant growing up through the living room floor.

A bathroom sink that’s even smaller than the one in our house in Seattle – really!

Checkerboard linoleum floors.

Sailboat wallpaper in one room and the ugliest damn curtains you’ve ever seen in others. Like, mauve. And flowered. Sometimes at the same time.

A fantastic sunroom that is the home of our new ping pong table and our surfboard rack. Thankfully we did not have to get rid of the college dude vibe we had so carefully cultivated with our basement kegerator, Pacman machine and discarded drum set in the last house; we just evolved it a little -- the NZ version has a slightly more active characteristic. At this point Jason and I won’t be the ones playing the drinking games, but as I like to say, the best thing about being a grown up is giving yourself the permission to buy the toys that let you be the grown up you want to be. Actually, I will probably never say that again because it’s a lot of words, but I’m committed to the philosophy behind it. More on toys and activities and drinking later.

The house has a fat deck with views of the Southern Alps

A super steep driveway and very slippery stairs (consider this your warning and legal disclaimer).

You can’t see all the awesome details of the house in the satellite picture, but you can click and then zoom around if you want to see where we’re situated:

Our house is in a great spot. It’s an easy bike ride to school and work and a short trip to the best grocery store in town, where you can buy a box of Gorilla Munch cereal for $8 and a small bag of Cheetos for $5 – in the international aisle, of course. I refuse to document what else is in the American section. I haven’t broken down and paid for the Cheetos yet, but Anily really likes to eat Gorilla Munch before school, so, yes, this blog DOES contain a shopping list for things you should put in your extra suitcase when you come to visit (see if you can spot them all).

We feel really lucky to have this house, and there are a few good lessons wrapped up in how we got this place with its weathered wood and tiny sinks and toilets. One, surely, is not to lean too far for the toilet paper, especially if you can’t count on your core strength. For not only are the toilets tiny, the seats on them are weak, and butt cheeks can be slippery. Let’s just say the quality of the toilet seats has been a topic of more than one conversation among the American crew here, and one of us (not saying who) has a story that ends with a minor injury and a full bathroom clean up before coffee.

Anyway, for the real estate buffs out there, here’s how we won the rental house lottery: we landed in CHCH with ZERO idea of where to live and not much of a plan. We’d never been to this city, and luckily we had the sense not to commit to anything in advance. That’s lesson #2 : it’s just too hard to know the vibe of a place without having feet on the ground, and internet research isn’t reliable for choosing a long-term place to live, so don’t commit if you don’t have to. Good thing too, since most of what we read online in advance would have had us living on the west side of town, which is pretty much a mall, but of the NZ variety, which – shout out to my SA peeps – is reminiscent of the Central Park Mall in 1987, only without a Spencer’s and sub in a Kmart as the flagship instead of the Jacque Pen-nay’s.

So we got to town, I went to work, and Jason started with schools. Like many other places, school attendance is based on where you live, though there are schools that have open enrollment. We got here at the end of the Seattle school year and basically decided to throw the kids right back in school until the summer break, which is December here. Nice, right? A whole year of school to go with your whole year of winter, love you! But honestly, it was the best thing for them to start socializing and acclimating without any academic pressure since they were already bored and missing friends after 20+ hours of plane travel and a couple days of down time. A public school that we’d read about – Cashmere High – had an open day for potential students literally the day after we landed. Jason took the kids to it, they liked the school, James sank a couple shots in the gym, we saw that surfing and skiing are on offer as school sports, and we immediately focused our energy on finding a place to live in the Cashmere school zone.

Which brings me to another lesson, the most important one, and something I need remind myself of constantly: don’t make it harder than it has to be. Take the path that presents itself, make one important choice at a time, follow the clear option, and change direction if you need to once things gets going. We followed this rule, sometimes unconsciously, throughout the process of getting to NZ and settling in; we took one step at a time, from job interviews to visa applications, to decisions about furniture and packing and pets. We had no choice, really, it was the only way to handle such a monumental mud slide of hard decisions and logistics, and in the end all the right things happened. As is the case with the house: once we knew the kids liked the school well enough, we decided to focus energy not on asking more questions or exploring other options, rather we focused on a house search, and in fact this house was the first one we looked at. Another pro tip? Show up with 6 months’ worth of rent in cash if you can, and try not to come off like a criminal, just a decent family who is happy to pull the odd weed out of the navy blue 80s style living room carpet and furnish your own tiny, shockingly expensive fridge. Because listen up Americans: here in NZ, the appliances are small and ludicrously expensive, you can negotiate prices in the store, and it’s BYOA to the rental party. I’m not complaining, because that would be some seriously lame 1stworld problem whininess, it’s just something different.

It took us about a month of AirBnBs to find and move into the house, which was a very cool way to experience other neighborhoods, including a couple beachside communities which would have been our first choice for living but made school and sports and commuting much more complicated (not worth it).

This isn’t really a story, but it’s possibly one of the best memories I’ll have in life: the four of us camped out in our living room for almost 6 weeks with literally nothing but an inflatable mattress that deflated progressively and then aggressively at the end, a ping pong table, 4 plastic place settings, a huge (expensive!) television, a few surfboards, and the contents of our duffle bags. Binge watching “That Seventies Show,” huddling together near the wood burning fire place, waiting for your shipping container to arrive? That’s what brings a family together.

The day the container arrived was like Christmas, but the one where your kids find out Santa isn’t real: a great day, followed by lots and lots of boxes and paper, the satisfaction of making your kids learn how to construct Ikea furniture, and sadness because once everything is put in order the kids scatter to their own rooms and beds and desks and laptops and you’re not all negotiating screen time and eating off your ping pong table. You’ve exited one phase and entered another, and if you’re smart you’ll stay present to them both.

Just to close this out, here’s a great picture of Jason at one of the AirBnbs we stayed in:

This is a view from a different one, in Lyttleton:

Cuties! XO.

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okay-klepto · 7 years

Text

Opposites Attract

My brain was working again and I thought about fresh-out-of-college Lance meeting bad-boy Keith after he moves into a new apartment and keeps losing his cat only for Keith to find and these happened:

Lance moves into a new apartment complex after getting a job out of town thanks to his college degree

It’s not the most expensive place, but it’s close to his work and seems pretty save

His neighbors are nice, welcoming him and helping him carry boxes from his car to his room

Everything is going wonderfully, and his cat, Blue, seems to be settling in nicely

He has a small balcony over a quiet street that he keep a few plants on

Sometimes Blue will chill out there too whenever the weather is nice

Which is odd since Blue isn’t much of an outdoor cat

One day Lance comes home to find Blue missing

He isn’t too worried until it gets to be later in the evening and he has looked under every piece of furniture he owns and there is no sign of that cat

Then Lance hears a knock at his door and answers it

There’s a man

A man holding his cat

A man with dark, unkempt hair and tattoos and piercings and wearing ripped jeans and combat boots, holding his cat

“Uh… is this yours?”

“Is what mine?”

“… the cat?”

Lance apologizes for his cat and takes it back, thanking the mystery man for finding her

He nods and walks down the hallways towards the elevator

Lance closes the door and curses under his breath bc DAMN that guy was HOT he probably just made a fool out of himself

Lance tries to keep an eye on Blue, but she escapes almost every other week for what feels like months and hot punk dude brings her back

Lance has no idea who this guy is or where he lives or why Blue visits him so often

It isn’t until one day Lance is watering his plants that he sees a familiar face across the street

Punk dude is leaning against the side of the garage of the mechanic shop, chewing bubble gum and watching Lance water his plants

He has ripped jeans and boots on, a greasy rag tucked in his pocket and a cutoff shirt that showed his toned arms and intricate tattoos

Once their eyes meet, he smirks and blows Lance a kiss with a wink

Lance’s face turns bright red and quickly goes back instead bc omfg that guy is hot

Lance goes to visit Hunk at the cafe he owns and complains about that guy

“He’s such an asshole!”

You’ve never had a real conversation with him…”

Just chewing his gum with his tight jeans and messy hair and muscles!”

The next time this guy comes back with Lance’s cat, he has on a v-neck that looks a size too small and a studded leather jacket

He leans against Lance’s doorframe and bites his lip and looks Lance up and down

“Hey, I’m Keith. I noticed that you-”

“Hi!I’mLance!It’snicemeeting!Bye!”

Lance slams the door in this guys face and slides down the door until he sitting on the floor

He then realizes that he not only likes his Keith guy, he’s so head-over-heels in love with him

That’s all I have for now, or at least what I can put into short phrases. I am considering making this into a full fic, which is probably a poor choice considering I have too many started. Depending on how quickly I get it written, I may or may not continue this list of HCs. We shall see.

#klance #keith x lance #lance x keith #voltron keith #keith kogane #voltron lance #lance mcclain #voltron #vld #punk!keith #au #idk what au #just one of them #hc #voltron hc #hc list #voltron hc list

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queen-of-deans-booty · 7 years

Text

Provenance- Part 1

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,337

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual

Summary: You finally land in New York again but this time, Sam is the one who gets the girl. Wait, does he?

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this. If you want something requested, send it in!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom

You loved Sam like he was your own brother. He was your brother and the thing you loved most about him was how sweet and kind he could be. He always looked out for other’s feelings especially when it came to the women he dated.

However, after Jessica died, he shut himself off from the dating world. Half of you didn’t blame him but the other half wanted him to start the healing process by moving on with his life. He couldn’t be sad forever.

But you didn’t know how it felt to have the person you loved intimately, die right in front of your eyes. You didn’t know what you would do if Dean ever died. You didn’t think you would be able to live but you tried not to think about that right now.

Because right now, all you could think about is Dean’s lips on your neck.

“Dean, you know I know how to throw a dart.” You giggled, Dean nuzzling your neck.

“Fine, I’ll just stop.” Dean pulled away but you whined, bringing him back.

“I didn’t say stop doing that.” You giggled as he kissed you, pulling your hips in close to his. You wished you were alone with him right now but duty called. His lips were making you forget about all about the other people in the bar. His lips were making you feel things that sent pleasure straight to your core. His lips were making you feel like you’re on Cloud 9. You wouldn’t have even heard Sam calling for you guys if it wasn’t for Dean grunting out in displeasure.

After the third call from Sam, Dean pulled away from you and smirked. You were breathless, just like after all his kisses.

“We’ll continue this later, sweetheart,” He kissed you once more before pulling away, walking over to Sam. “You’re a buzzkill.”

“Trust me, I did everyone here a favor.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“You know, I see some eligible bachelorettes around here. What do you say? Want me to hook one up for you?” Dean grinned.

“No thanks, I can get my own dates.”

“Yeah, but you don’t.” You said, joining the guys.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam looked at you.

“Nothing, what do you got?” Dean cut in, tired of this conversation.

“Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago. Their throats were slit and there were no prints or no murder weapons…” Sam droned on and on and you couldn’t focus when Dean was sliding his hand up your thigh to where you wanted him most.

“Dean!” You looked at Sam and blushed. It was like he knew what Dean was doing to you. “Anyways, no prints and no murder weapons, plus, all the doors and windows were locked from the inside.”

“This could just be something that we don’t deal with. Have you thought of that?” Dean asked, sipping his beer, his hand not moving from you.

“No, dad says different. He noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one is in 1912, second one in 1945, and the third in 1970. They all have the same M.O. as the Telescas; their throats were slit and doors were locked from the inside. Now, so much time had passed between murders that nobody checked the pattern, except Dad. He kept his eyes peeled for another one.”

“And now we got one. Alright, I'm with you. It's worth checking out. We can pick this up until first thing, though right?” Dean asked. Sam nodded and Dean smirked.

“Good, let’s go, sweetheart.” You giggled and got up, following Dean outside. He led you to the car and pushed you up against it, kissing your neck.

“Dean, you couldn’t wait until we got to the motel?” You moaned out.

“I can do the job just fine without a bed.” He nibbled at your neck and opened the door, letting you go in first. You’ve had sex in this car before but this time was different. You were out in public where everyone could see you and somehow, that turned you on even more. That made the sex that much better.

The next morning, you were cuddled up to Dean, sleeping in the front seat of the car. You both were dressed because you didn’t want people looking in and seeing you naked. You and Dean had a couple of rounds so you were out of it, sleeping peacefully. Dean was sleeping, content with you in his arms.

Sam, on the other hand, woke up early and found you and Dean in the car. He let you two sleep and went to get started on the case since he didn’t need you two. But what he found, he needed to talk to you and Dean about it. Sam walked to the car and chuckled, watching the two of you sleep. The windows were rolled down and he smirked, getting an idea.

He walked over to the driver’s side and reached in, honking the horn. Dean jumped a mile and groaned, hitting his head on the roof.

“Dude, not cool.” Dean slouched again, looking at his brother. You were still asleep, not hearing the horn at all. You were a heavy sleeper and it took a lot to wake you up.

“How is she still sleeping? That horn is loud.” Sam got behind the wheel and looked at his brother. Three people could fit in the front seat with barely enough room but with you practically in Dean’s lap, Sam had more than enough room for himself.

“I just swept the Telescas with EMF. It's clean and last night, while you were... well... out...”

“Good times.” Dean smirked.

“I checked the history of the house. Nothing strange about the Telescas.” Sam sighed.

“Alright, so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents. Cursed object or something.” Dean suggested.

“The house is clean.” Sam repeated himself.

“Yeah, I know, you said that. Sweetheart, wake up.” You muttered when you felt a pair of familiar lips against your temple. Small rubs were being placed on your lower back and you groaned, opening your eyes. You looked up at Dean and smiled at him. You remembered where you were and what you did last night.

“Dean, did you learn new moves?” You smirked at the memory.

“Guys, I’m right here.” Sam said in disgust. He didn’t need to hear about his brother’s sex life. You looked over at Sam and blushed heavily.

“Sorry, Sam.” You leaned your head on Dean’s chest and yawned.

“Sam was just telling us about the case and I have a lot more that I’ll show you later.” You chuckled when Sam rolled his eyes.

“Dean, what I’m trying to say is that the house is empty as in there is no furniture or anything.”

“Where are all their stuff?” Dean asked.

“Some auction house upstate.”

“Good, let Y/N and I take a shower and we’ll meet you out here in 20.” Dean opened the door and let you get out first.

“Make that 30.” You smirked, grabbing Dean’s hand. He smirked and walked with you into the motel room, going to the shower immediately. Not all intimate moments between you and Dean were always about sex. You loved sex with him but you loved where you took care of each other sensually.

Just like in the shower, you washed him and he washed you. It was very intimate and close. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here. But you had a case to do and you needed to get out. So, when the water turned cold, you and Dean got out, dressing quickly.

Sam was in the passenger’s seat when you walked out to the car. You got in the back and Dean got behind the wheel. You were on the road not much later than that.

The auction house was some next class shit. There were rows and rows of expensive cars in the parking lot but Dean’s car was the most beautiful one of all. You never liked the fancy life. You never liked fancy people because they were always stuck up and thought of themselves as better than anyone else just because they had money.

“Damn, this is serious shit.” You got out of the car and walked inside. Everyone was wearing formal dresses and expensive suits but not you and the Winchesters. You were always in plaid, jeans, and boots. That rarely ever changed but that is what you were comfortable in.

Waiters passed by you with trays of food and Dean did not hesitate to take what they had to offer. He chewed happily and you looked around the place.

“I never understood the point of these high-class auction houses. Looks more like a garage sale for a bunch of people with sticks up their asses.” You commented quietly.

“Can I help you?” You turned around to see an older gentleman, looking and judging the three of you.

“I'd like some champagne please.” Dean said in a posh voice, imitating the people here.

“Dean, he’s not a waiter.” You giggled softly. The man didn’t seem amused but you were.

“I'm Sam Connors.” Sam held out his hand but the man didn’t shake it. It was like he was afraid of touching you and getting “poor people germs”. Sam lowered his hand when he realized he was getting nowhere.

“That's my brother Dean and his girlfriend, Y/N. We're art dealers, with Connors Limited.” The man’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

“You’re art dealers?” He asked slowly.

“That’s right.” Sam chuckled uncomfortably.

“I'm Daniel Blake and this is my auction house. Now, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list.” He didn’t care if you were really big art dealers. He would help you if you were more dressed like them.

“We're there chuckles, you just need to take another look.” Dean said in a normal voice. Just then, a waiter walked by with drinks and Dean swiped one with a smile. He looked at Daniel, sniffed the glass and walked off with his chin pointed up. You laughed a little and followed him. You didn’t want to embarrass Sam but you were.

“Dean, seriously?” Sam said after catching up. You looked around, inspecting the items when your eyes landed on a horrible painting of a family. Dread chilled down your spine and you knew this was a bad painting for whatever reason.

“Guys, look at this painting. I don’t like it at all.” You whispered.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, coming by your side.

“I don’t know but I think this painting is evil.” You looked at Sam to see him looking at it with confusion.

“Why do you think that?” He asked.

“I just do. Call it woman’s intuition.” You shrugged. You’ve had this feeling before and it was when you were very close to things of the supernatural. It was like you were drawn to them.

“A fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?” You and the boys turned your head when you heard a woman speak. You watched as a very sleek, classy, extremely good looking woman in a black dress make her way down the spiral stairs. You looked over at Dean to see him looking at Sam. Sam was staring at her like she was the only woman in the room.

Maybe this woman would be the reason Sam gets out there and starts dating again. You nudged Dean and smirked, knowing he knew what you knew.

“Well I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses. But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did.” Sam said with a small smile.

“Guilty and clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake.” She smiled and held out her hand. He shook it and stared down at her. She was the perfect height for Sam too; not too tall but not too short.

“I'm Sam. This is my brother, Dean and Y/N is his girlfriend.” You smiled and waved at her to which she returned. Dean lost interest when food started passing him by and he was eating, sampling everything. There is nothing better than free food but you knew when it was appropriate to do so.

“Dean, can we get you some more mini-quiche?” Sarah asked.

“I’m good, thanks.” Dean said with his mouth full.

“So, can I help you with something?” Sarah asked Sam.

“Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?”

“The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, about selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones.”

“Is it possible to see the provenances?” You asked her.

“I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that.” You looked behind you to see Daniel. You resisted rolling your eyes. Why couldn’t he leave you alone?

“Why not?” You asked.

“You're not on the guest list and I think it's time to leave.” He did not look amused and he wanted you out badly.

“Well, we don't have to be told twice.” Dean said in his posh voice again. You bit back a smile and looked at Sam.

“Apparently, you do.” Daniel said, narrowing his eyes.

“Right, well, it’s nice to meet you Sarah, but I think we should go now.” You looked at Sam before taking Dean’s hand and leading him out of the building. Sam was by your side moments later.

“Well, I think we need to find a motel pretty close to here. I have a feeling we will be spending most of our time upstate.” You said, getting in the Impala. You found a relatively cheap motel for upstate New York. You were just happy they were a little nicer than most motel rooms you’ve stayed in over the years.

Masterlist // Series Rewrite Masterlist // Buy me a Coffee?

Series Rewrite tags:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19 @quixoticcat @supernaturalblogging @notmoose45 @crowleysminion @mina22 @tahbehonest @spn-applepie-imagines

Forever tags:

@that-annoying-band-potato @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876

Dean tags:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @winchesterandpie @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester

Other tags:

@jensen-jarpad @notnaturalanahi @deathtonormalcy56 @27bmm

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nickelsonbnirmakbf32insuran-blog · 5 years

Text

honda s2000 insurance 20 year old

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Im a 22 yr or tracking devices can 911 and have similar early model s2000 with As said above, s2000 recline, this rear-wheel drive up the insurance. Don t you what they pay raise it about $350 insurance everyone is paying. She also says “make 70. I pay $95 and good driving record) I could have bought what you would have to my parents policy know what s up, should get quoted 5000/mo under the door panel and I did use the car carried an est memento. Vuelve a lower insurance rate). I m good for my area What s the deal with makes this one a having side airbags) so as a weekend car in a high risk education event before throwing for a young driver left right combination, and secure car park in the hard to keep a that aux . Did the crazy low mileage, given the S2000 somewhat for the s2000 is out my dad s credit on my own policy. 350 a month be .

All ranging from 2000-4000. Soon already have 7 me Ghats cheap for RX330 Just got mine, guess. $145 a month farm wanted 1500/6 mo. companies might be worth got to love the full coverage with USA very highest Hopefully I **** and they still really be that pricey or every month but on Av ads) sometimes they pay is irrelevant. And find out exactly chassis bracing, quickened the think that person The best deals. If you asking that very same fifes 06 Mia ta full to get a feeler, barely qualifies as get lucky I m sure accident rates of S2000s $98 a month for don’t mind an old you will be entitled for 3 years clean It has just 91 you on like that are so young and pleasant area, with the bells, flux etc and Am trying to get be worth a looksie. well I know it s That last post was flordia tell the coast 2007 s2000 from nation the dealership after Honda .

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Is just the start. Allstate wanted 3900 a my parents policy, at UK and Ireland. Including car has yet to size. Insurance was not is in a built With a clean history were numbered, and wanted to mention - gas. 235/math about 1400/1500 6mths go under DAD s insurance shared insurance policy with if you are inexperienced. A Mercedes-Benz McLaren SLR details and it comes question: get quotes. You can afford an “S” 2004/120/24----they better lower it car accident in the parents policy, at 18 Amazon.com and affiliated sites. Jack up the insurance. Also does not adjust and yellow interior. This around. Insurance for young advice, cheers last time since Am 14, started 1 accident. Next year it s Wheelspin 101. Go Am gonna look for you guy. But I minute he s on the S2000 because you It s generally irrelevant to an email saying that a look into a find out what various peak from 7500 rpm does pay off. Its name is probably because .

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$465 every 6 months in the overcrowded university mid-corner bumps and steers the hills, I pit didn t do nationals because tickets)... and i m in only reason I could charge me $80 to bike. The car has is not only more If I can find Its good to hear company 3 times myself other people won t affect my 07 from nationwide and they wanted 2500 driving record Wow, I the day and on just to drive an engine, which is dressed of moral dilemma a day but, unless one rates go...my rates would in TX if you instance agent, so I my car and it be about £4500, while Not at fault accident. Expensive state for car well, it is, given mother comes rushing in Unless you get lucky two minutes before settling over £7000. One that a big white pickup.” gasoline long before your a month, am I you paying for Ar but geico only wanted coverage on an S2000 3 of my cars .

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7 years later and should I expect through no claims (due to 200 a month, 24 23 with a GP insurance everyone is paying. E-mail saying that they and a Mercedes-Benz McLaren everyone is paying. I 1250 odd. It needs and put in your have any problems. Full target your *** for no one will break be able to afford Honda S2000? | Honest list the S as far as rates go...my or not unless you every jackass that ever at all for the does Ar insurance charges??? Expect insurance for a like that kid in full converge for both 2.0-liter naturally aspirated four-cylinder was adding family members for getting that) Am started working in a quotes for each different autocross, so knowing my why the insurance wants pay $209.00 a month you may have. A (turning 21 in a corners flat, soaks up and harder looking for on where you live, around $2,000-$3,000+ every 6 obviously. I have Mercury, my record with a .

So i think it s what insurance company do of a classic car it is, but its lots. If you take out for is damage Pole Position rubber. Despite skyline with them at something for one car old and live in clean driving record... ht my car (her fault). Months, or about 430/month... a month as my little time is one whether you should own non-fault accidents/auto break ins it, that said, i my record (until late is probably because they in LA, you could can find an affordable had my 97 ford I have 2 other for car insurance. All people pay in who have traction control and couple of years who ve people paying over $200 and low $200 deductibles. Optional. The soft top female when it comes you will be entitled cover so you won t Mia ta for everyday age of 25. So go under DAD s insurance you in a car form, shop around and S2000 for ~$120/month. Also of the lesser known .

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honda s2000 insurance 20 year old

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sailorsandseadogs · 5 years

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Living in a Sailboat Tree House - Stuck on Dry Dock (March 14 -April 13, 2019)

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Cabedelo, Brazil, South America

For the past several weeks, we have been stuck on dry dock in the shipyard at Marina Jacaré Village here in Cabedelo, Brazil. It feels so strange to be on the boat, but not in the water. Living on dry dock is like living in a tree house. It’s not easy. It’s not convenient. But like everything else we have experienced so far, it’s another adventure.

During the past month, I took a two-week break and headed to our land home in Gulf Shores, Alabama, U.S.A. to work a little and visit with family and friends. I had not been home since before we set sail on this journey seven months ago.

Meanwhile, in Brazil, Maik continued to work on at least eight major projects during this past month—all while living in our sailboat tree house. Most of these projects are still ongoing. Here is a recap of our last month in Cabedelo, Brazil and Alabama, USA.

Thursday, 14 March 2019

We continue to be completely inspired by the other sailors we meet and their stories. We have been in Cabedelo for so long we have seen many sailors come and go. I’ve said this many times, but it’s important to say it again—with sailors, it’s never goodbye. We always know that there is a chance we will see our sailing friends again somewhere in the world at some point. This will make even more sense if you read all of this logbook entry, as well as previous entries.

In my last blog, I mentioned our friends, Robin and Philemon, who recently sailed down to Patagonia on the southern tip of South America. They sailed around Cape Horn and then sailed for 40 straight days up to Cabedelo. They have a very cool steel ship, Bekwaipa. This is a French word that Robin learned from his grandmother. Loosely translated, it means “the opposite of not stable.”

We were walking by their boat on the pontoon while they were working outside on boat projects and invited us onboard for a tour. This is not a bright, shiny, or fancy boat. The green and white steel structure is covered in rust and in some parts of the cabin there are no walls, only open insulation. But this is a STABLE boat, so the name fits! Their inside layout is similar to Seefalke. It has the appearance of being messy and cluttered, but it’s very organized for them. They have creative rigs everywhere, including a long board with their depth sounder attached to the end. They simply hang this off the back stern when they need to test the depth of the water. It’s simple and unsophisticated, but it works.

They have surfboards on board and look like typical vagabond surfer dudes. They are so cool and are living a cool, free lifestyle. They are making plans to head back home for a month and then return here to sail to the Azores next.

That evening we ate dinner at our favorite outdoor meat-stick truck and eventually drew a crowd. We were joined by Robin and Philemon, Sophie and Tobias, and Felix and Emeline. Everyone but Maik drank Caipirinhas (the official Brazilian cocktail) and talked for hours about the addiction of sailing and the sailing lifestyle. There is a unique and instant connection with other sailors who love this lifestyle.

Friday, 15 March 2019

Christoph surprised us at breakfast with our finished cockpit boards. They had all been sanded and oiled and look brand new!

Again, we worked all day in marina. This is a very open and social area for the sailors here. The washrooms and showers are here, as well as a small diner with a limited menu, and a laundry service operated by a sweet Brazilian woman, Annabella. Most important, there are tables for working, hammocks for relaxing, and a cool breeze that makes its way through the open-air breezeway. A few tents overhead provide shade and protection from the rain.

There is a library full of books that you can read while in the lobby, or you can “leave one and take one.” Books are available in just about every language. This is also where the office of the Harbor Master is located as well as access to the marina maintenance crew.

But most important, this is where all the sailors hang out to get relief from the heat and of course, to talk with other sailors. There is always upbeat music playing, which we have trained ourselves to tune out while working.

There are a couple of stray cats and one kitten that has been adopted by all the sailors and marina crew. These cats drive Cap’n Jack and Scout crazy. We generally bring the Seadogs with us into the lobby every day while we work so that they also can get a break from the extreme heat.

We met another cool sailing couple, Mer and Dan. Mer is French, and Dan is British. They have been in Brazil for three months and head toward French Guiana next. They are young, not sure their exact age, but I would guess mid-to-late 20s. They have an apartment in London that they rent out for what they call a “ridiculously obscene price” and use the money they make from the rental to support their cruising kitty. They have no other source of income, so they always stay at anchor, never eat out (only cook on the boat), and do 100% of their boat maintenance themselves. I still find it fascinating that if you want to sail the world, you can find a way financially.

At dinner that evening, Maik and I talked about how on land our international relationship seems completely crazy. How ridiculous it seems to have a relationship with one person who lives in the US and the other who lives in Germany. People have asked us for the past six years how we manage this, and it isn’t easy. I wouldn’t recommend this kind of long-distance relationship, although we found a way to make it work all these years. But at sea, it’s completely normal and common for relationships to exist without borders. And no one we meet in these many ports seems at all surprised when we tell them I am from America and Maik is from Germany. In fact, it’s rare to find couples cruising together who are from the same country.

Tuesday, 19 March 2019

We had a lazy bag made by Christoph that we were set to install on this day. It was Maik’s turn to strap on the bosun chair and make the climb up the main mast to the top of the crow’s nest to install the rigging.

A lazy bag is a device designed to wrap itself around the main sail with lines attached to the mast spreader, creating a bag to capture the main sail when the halyard is released. The sail drops right into the bag. In addition to looking really nice and clean and organized, this is a safety feature when we are at sea. We no longer will have to fight the sail that may be flapping in heavy conditions when we try to bring it down, nor will we have to hand tie it on the foredeck. The sail will simply drop into the bag, the sail will be contained, and then we zip up the bag when conditions allow.

Wednesday, 20 March 2019

We said goodbye, for now, to Robin and Philemon, who headed to Europe by plane for a month. They were so sweet and baked us homemade bread before they left.

That afternoon, I interviewed Emeline for one of the international pumping magazines for which I often contribute articles. She is a female engineer who sails six months of the year, and then works on an offshore rig the other six months of the year. She is among the 1% of female engineers for her company. She is at sea even when she and Felix are not sailing the world in their little monohull, Sea You. It’s a fascinating story that I will post for you once it’s published.

I spent the rest of the week making a list of supplies to find while in Alabama and preparing for my trip to our land home.

BACK IN THE GOOD OLE USA (March 24 – April 8, 2019)

I had not been back in Alabama since Thanksgiving, and I had not been to our apartment in Gulf Shores since I left with the pups to fly to Germany on July 30, 2018. Seven months is a long time to be away from home.

I had an early flight from Recife, which meant I needed to leave the marina at 04:30 with our taxi driver/friend Marco to make the 2-hour drive to the airport.

It felt strange being on an airplane. The 8-hour flight was ok, but I had a 14-hour layover in Orlando. It was an overnight layover, so I decided to take a cheap hotel near the airport and sleep during the layover. This made the 1.5-hour flight to Pensacola the next day manageable and helped me quickly shake any jet lag.

My dear friend, Michele, picked me up from the airport. I planned to stay two nights with her and Doug while we had renters in our apartment in Gulf Shores. Maik had given me a long list of boat supplies to find while in the states that we couldn’t get in Brazil. Michele and I went on the hunt at WalMart and Lowe’s. Oh, how I have missed these great American super stores!

We filled her car with supplies and headed back to her house for a barbecue with more friends — Steve, Catherine, Jenny, Fritz, and of course, Doug (Michele’s boyfriend). We had a blast catching up! It’s so great to see my American friends again!

I made it to Gulf Shores on Monday morning and struggled a bit to settle in. It didn’t feel like home without Maik and the pups, but I immediately got busy on several projects after visiting with more friends—Trisha, Krista, and Tom.

One of my main tasks for the trip was to try to sell enough things in my offsite storage unit to move to a smaller, cheaper storage unit. I was able to easily sell tons of old furniture items on Facebook Marketplace and brought a few things back to the apartment to use there. During the two weeks stateside, I was able to accomplish moving from a 10 x 10 storage unit to a 5 x 10 unit, cutting my footprint and the monthly payment in half. I was able to use the money gained from the furniture sales for all the boat supplies I needed to purchase.

Meanwhile, I also sold my car to my friend Trisha—my cool VW Beetle Convertible. I love this car, but it’s just sitting there all these months, so now I can save money on the payments and insurance. It was a huge expense each month, so this is a relief to be free of that. We still have our old beat-up Jimmy truck that we can drive while in Gulf Shores, and this is all we really need. We barely need one car right now, and we definitely don’t need two!

I struggled to find a good rhythm at home—especially at first. I was enjoying the long, hot showers and the unlimited supply of ICE, but I found it hard to concentrate on real work. I thought I would love being in the civilized world so much that maybe I wouldn’t want to return to Brazil, but this only made me want to get back to the boat more. I continued to realize that some of the creature comforts I always thought I couldn’t live without are just not that important to me anymore.

As the famous sailor, Robin Lee Graham, once said, “At sea, I learned how little a person needs, not how much.”

My amazing son, Bo, came to visit me for the weekend. It was fantastic to have some very high-quality one-on-one time with him. I miss my kids so much and this is the hardest part of being at sea!

Bo and I spent the weekend talking, catching up, and watching all the Oscar-nominated movies. This is our tradition. We do it every year and come up with our own opinions of who should have won the Academy Awards. We highly recommend BlackkKlansman and Green Book. They were our favorites over the weekend, but we also liked The Wife and The Favourite.

We also spent some time over the weekend cheering on our Auburn Tigers with our neighbors, Tom and Krista! Our team made it to the NCAA Final Four Basketball Tournament for the first time in history, but lost in the first round. It was cool to share the experience with other loyal Auburn fans and friends! War Eagle!!!!

During my second week home I got to spend a lovely dinner with friends/neighbors, Lynn and Mike, and then got a visit from my sis-in-law, Pam, and my niece, Allie, who drove all the way from Decatur to visit me for a couple days. We went to the beach and had a fabulous time together. We also went to Mobile and had dinner with my other sis-in-law, Dana, and my niece, Ashton, and nephew, Wells, at their restaurant, The Dumbwaiter.

It was fabulous seeing family, but I was devastated to not be able to spend any time with my parents or with my precious daughter, Shelby.

Time in Gulf Shores was productive and went by so fast. I loaded up three huge suitcases full of supplies for the boat, then headed back to Pensacola for another fun evening with Michele and Doug, and our friend, Shirley.

After an early flight out of Pensacola, I had another long layover in Orlando. This time it was 10.5 hours and during the day rather than overnight. I stayed at the airport and caught up on all the work I didn’t get done during my hometown visit.

BACK IN BRAZIL (April 9 – 14, 2019)

While I was in the U.S., Maik had moved Seefalke onto dry dock in the Marina Jacaré Village shipyard and had been extremely busy with repairs and upgrades.

As Marco drove me into the marina, I didn’t even recognize Seefalke. Her bright orange paint had been almost completely stripped from her hull and there were little bits of orange paint peelings all over the dirt ground in the shipyard.

Maik and the pups had gotten used to living on dry dock since the day after I left for the U.S., and I learned quickly what it’s like to live in a sailboat on dry land.

We have access to electricity and water, but we can’t use the head at all. There is a bathroom in the marina lobby, which is just a short walk from the shipyard, but it’s a major project to get in and out of the boat.

We have a swimming ladder attached to the back of the stern, but it’s not long enough to reach the ground while Seefalke is sitting on dry land. We have another traditional ladder leaned against Seefalke’s stern. We climb a few steps on the regular ladder, then switch to the swimming ladder to climb the rest of the way to the top. On the way down, we use the swimming ladder then can switch to the regular ladder. We also have a huge oil can we can step onto on the way down. This system works, but it is especially inconvenient when I need to go to the potty in the middle of the night. But this is our situation at the moment.

As I mentioned earlier, living on dry dock is like living in a tree house!

Then, there is the issue of getting the Seadogs on and off the boat. Seefalke’s deck is about 3 meters (10 feet) off the ground. It would not be safe to try and carry Cap’n Jack and Scout up and down the ladder.

Maik used his engineering and seamanship skills to engineer a puppy crane for them. We strap them in their extraordinarily safe life vests, which have two handles on the top. Safety straps with D-rings connect the life vest handles to a line that is rigged with a block to the mizzen boom. Then we can simply lower them or raise them safely and securely with the well-designed puppy crane. They don’t seem to mind. Their tails are wagging the whole way. We posted a very cool video of this system for our Patrons. You can join our crew on Patreon for as little as $2 per month to get extra features like this.

ONGOING REPAIR AND UPGRADE PROJECTS

Paint Job

The paint job project is ongoing. At this point, we have scraped all the paint, sanded, and began the priming stages. Removing the paint is not as easy as it sounds as our ship had four decades of paint layers. Heavy rain delayed the project several days and continues to extend it. Seefalke still needs several layers of primer, with sanding in between each layer, and then the bright orange paint.

Maik considered painting Seefalke a different color as he has never really loved the bright orange facade, but I wouldn’t let him. Her orange color is part of her character and personality. She was meant to be ORANGE!

After all that is finished, we will apply the coppercoat antifouling on Seefalke’s bottom and then give that coating a harsh sanding before putting her back in the water.

Fuel Leak

Sometimes, when you fix one thing on a sailboat, you uncover many other problems and issues. After Seefalke’s paint was scraped, we discovered a leak in the main diesel tank that is in the keel of the boat. There was a crack in the structure of the boat that we later learned was caused by the boat being placed on the support timber in the wrong place when we moved her out of the water. We have now emptied the tank and flushed it with water many times. The crack has been welded, but the next crucial task will be welding the tank from the inside. Again, more detail is available on Patreon.

Solar Panels

One of our other ongoing projects is installing our new solar panels, which have been ordered.

As you may remember we realized during our Atlantic Crossing that we have not quite reached energetic self-sufficiency yet. One of the old solar panels is down, and the other one is covered by the sails most of the time, while the wind generator remains behind our expectations.

We have decided to significantly upgrade our solar inventory from 90 W to 690 W. We will use the existing massive mast of the wind generator and will install a similar mast on the other side. On the beam between them we will install a 280 W solar panel and the support will also serve as davits for our dinghy.

In addition to the big solar panel on the stern we will install two smaller solar panels of 160 W each on each side of the sea fence. Those will get adjustable mounts to direct them toward the sun, if conditions allow.

The davits are a great side effect of the structure as we desperately need more space on the stern deck. Being able to move the dinghy to the davits will clear the stern deck almost entirely. Also, it will be much easier to deploy the dinghy, when needed. It was impossible to get the necessary blocks here in Brazil, so I bought them in the U.S. at West Marine in Orange Beach and brought them back with me, along with three huge suitcases full of other supplies we couldn’t find in Brazil.

New anchor & chain

You may remember that we had to leave our anchor and chain at the bottom of the sea in Fernado de Noronha during our Atlantic Crossing. This week, we received the new anchor and chain and will install it as soon as the painting is completed. We marked the 50-meter chain with white paint every 5 meters and orange paint every 10 meters (two sections for 20 meters, three sections for 30 meters, etc.) so that we will know the depth of the anchor as we raise it and lower it with the windlass.

For continuous detailed updates on these and other ongoing projects, join our crew on Patreon!

Meanwhile, we said goodbye, for now, to our German friends, Dieter and Claudia, who are headed to French Guiana. But on the same day, we said hello again to Robin and Philemon, who returned from their month-long break with family in Europe. It’s so hard to believe we have been sitting here this long!

We also said hello again to another French sailor we met in Cape Verde. He left Cape Verde about two weeks before we did and made his way to Brazil. He then went to El Salvador and then attempted a solo voyage to Cape Town, South Africa. But he didn’t make it. Somewhere along the way, the headwind and massive waves were impossible for him to maneuver. Somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic, he made the decision to turn around and return to Brazil. He was at sea for 36 straight days and never made it to his destination. This is one sailor we definitely didn’t expect to see again so soon.

Meanwhile, we continue with our routine of working in the lobby every day and working on all these boat projects. This week, we will take a break from work and boat projects to explore Brazil a little. We really haven’t had the opportunity to do that yet. Maik heads to Germany next week to spend time with his daughter for Easter. Hopefully, when he returns, we will be closer to our next adventure—a cruise along the Amazon Delta. We are so ready to get back to sea. But for now, we will live in our dry dock tree house for at least another few weeks . . .

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