SHSL Procrastinator

This is my entry for Themis’s Typewriter’s Secret Santa Event! The theme is fluff and christmas (with a little bit of inspiration from Taylor Swift’s ‘Sparks Fly’). Happy holidays, @choc-chino 💝 I hope you like it! Honestly, I was a nervous wreck because I couldn’t come up with anything at first, but, thankfully, here we are! 🥰 Enjoy, everyone!

Pairing: Marius von Hagen x fem!reader

It’s three hours before the clock strikes Christmas.

Your mind wanders aimlessly into its own fantasy—you think of the snow-covered streets in Stellis, of the cup of hot cocoa you could’ve been sipping right now, of the overly-decorated pine tree in the center of your living room that would probably be blinding you with the flickering lights wrapped all over it.

Ah, you let out a quiet sigh, I never thought I’d miss my hometown this much…

You catch a glimpse of the colossal round clock across the lobby, ticking the way it always does and with no plans of stopping at all. You somehow wish it spares you enough time.

Please, just a little more.

The speech happening upstairs inside the events place had just begun, and Christmas is not adjusting for anyone. Whoever thought and agreed to host such affair on Christmas eve must have a lose screw in their brains.

You and Marius had no choice. PAX had just launched its services internationally, and their new business partnerships with countries across Asia had become one of the most valuable and crucial investments the company has ever made. With this occasion the only social event one of the Asian partners had offered, Marius was left with absolutely zero chances of a peaceful Christmas eve.

“I should be returning upstairs,” you mumble to yourself, flitting your gaze from the glass windows to the lobby elevator. “But it’s peaceful here, and quiet, with no one around…” you quietly say. Will Marius agree to sneak out and join me here instead?

You let out a startled gasp as you sense a ticklish warmth on the crook of your neck. You instinctively angle your head to the side—only for your breath to be knocked away by the painfully attractive sight of your boyfriend. Marius…

You feel your cheeks burn.

“Oneee-san,” calls Marius in a somewhat teasing yet utterly soft voice. “What are you thinking about?”

For some reason, you feel embarrassed to admit that you were contemplating about sneaking out with him, of ditching the event so the two of you could spend time together. So you try to squeeze your brain for a fool proof response—but you end up shamelessly staring at Marius, whose head rests atop your shoulder, his lips on a knowing smile and amethyst eyes on a scorching gaze. You feel your face heat up again.

“Were you thinking of sneaking out, Missy?”

“I’m not!” You look away. “I know this event is significant to you,” you say, “even if I did consider sneaking you out, I won’t do it.”

“Fine,” says Marius as he pulls away from you. The slowly waning heat from his body causes a frown on your face, but his next words betray your claims as your eyes light up in eagerness. Marius leans down slightly for his lips to graze your ear, “If you won’t sneak me out, then I’ll take your hand,” he whispers, “and sneak you out instead.”

—

You hear the solid drumming of your heart. Your footsteps are ringing in your ears. You hear your ragged breaths along with the sweet laughs coming out of Marius’s lips, and the chilly winds on this night of Christmas eve were but constant waves of nostalgia hitting your face.

It has been a long time since you felt this exhilarated.

Neither you or Marius have an idea of your whereabouts—this isn’t Stellis, after all, but a foreign place. That said, it’s the perfect chance to let down your walls and stop pretending to be proper souls.

Of all people, it is you who is entirely aware of what Marius needs to be in Stellis, of how he is expected to speak and act. It is only you who sees the exhaustion in his eyes and the sag in his shoulders after a day in the office. He isn’t even allowed to act recklessly or childishly in public, even when he is a child, a young adult of twenty-one still grasping the burden and responsibilities of life.

You halt your running, resting your hands on your knees as support as you catch your breath. Marius, on the other hand, still hasn’t stopped laughing as he watches you gasp for air. “Oneee-san, can’t you keep up with me?” he teases, “do you want me to carry you?”

“You wicked, wicked thing!” You do not suppress the grin on your face as you stand on your heels. “Marius von Hagen, I—oh!”

You hear the crack of your velvet stiletto, and you see light flashing in your eyes as you lose balance; though instead of colliding with the cold cobblestones, your small frame falls into the young von Hagen’s arms.

You take a peek at him, and you are immensely grateful that you did.

Suddenly it’s all Marius—so cliché, you think, but it’s true. You see only his lilac eyes staring right at you and you feel yourself melt in his embrace. His hands feel too big as they hold your waist, and for a moment you’re all breathless and flustered as you realize he just saved you from a nasty fall.

“Missy.” He doesn’t let go and instead, draws closer, dangerously closer to you. “Are you alright?”

You were about to respond, but instead of a word or two, only a light gasp escapes your lips as Marius teasingly squeezes the exposed skin on your thighs. “Missy, why are your cheeks all red?”

You glare at him. “Marius!”

His fingers travel higher on your thigh, his touch so electrifying you immediately slap his hand away from you. “Marius! I’m going to pinch your cheeks so hard it’ll sting for a month.”

“Sorry, just thought you needed some warmth.” He winked, but you notice that he isn’t entirely teasing you. Marius gestures to your silk dress. “Aren’t you cold? How are you surviving this chilly evening with a slit that high?”

“I’m okay, I swear! Don’t worry.” You smile up at him, your hands reaching to grab the lapel of his coat. You suddenly have an idea.

You tug slightly on his collar, bringing him closer to your face. “Baby,” you whisper, looking straight into his eyes. “Want to do something spicy?”

The moment his lips curved into a smirk, you knew the evening was off to a good start.

—

“M-Marius!” You breathe out—almost screamed—when you feel the agonizing sting spreading like wildfire all over your tongue. “Water! Water, Marius!”

You fan your hands in front of your face as if your small fingers had the power to ease the hotness in your mouth. “Marius, what the hell are you doing?”

Instead of handing you a water bottle, you see your boyfriend stuffing big squares of chocolate cake in his mouth, bits of fondue smudged across his chin and cheeks like a little boy eating his birthday cake for the first time—devouring them nonstop perhaps to ease the spiciness in his mouth and completely oblivious of you and your suffering.

“Marius—oomf!” Before you could even react, Marius stuffs chocolate cake in your mouth.

He wears a goofy smile, a grin so wide that he almost has his eyes closed. “Yes, baby? Did you say something? I can’t quite hear you,” he asks innocently, batting his eyelashes. “Water, was it? How about you say sorry to me first for feeding me something so spicy I almost teared up?”

You stifle a laugh. Indeed, Marius didn’t expect you to feed him a (super) spicy delicacy—you had grabbed his hand and pulled him to food stall area, bustling with bright christmas lights and smelled as if it’s heaven on earth. You had bought him chocolate cake first before you caught sight of a nearby stall that sold hot desserts, and Marius, who had trusted you a hundred and one percent, didn’t even dare read nor ask about what that damned food stall had in store.

You can’t help but giggle. “What are you talking about?” You try to hide your face with your hands. “It’s not my fault that the oh-so-great Marius von Hagen couldn’t eat spicy foods at all,” you tell him, “besides, it’s you—”

You hiss in surprise as you feel coldness on your cheek—Marius has painted chocolate fondue on your face as if you are a blank canvas in his studio, and he doesn’t even look sorry about it. “Besides what?” he repeats, this time using two of his fingers to paint yet another sweet fondue on your forehead. “There,” says Marius in a satisfied tone as he draws nearer to you, “consider this as payback, baby.

“But don’t worry,” he adds, “I’ll treat you to something special.” He winks.

Somehow, you start to consider that this payback is a blessing. After all, instead of being punished for your deliberate feeding of spicy food to Marius, here you are—looking pretty with your new bunny headdress, and it even has movable ears! “Oh my god, this is… this is so cute! Marius, too cute!”

“I know I’m cute.”

You narrow your eyes but continue to simultaneously pull at the bunny ears, “Not you. The bunny headdress. And look at its ears!”

“Oneee-san, I’m starting to get jealous over here.”

“Come here, I’ll hit you.”

And there goes his puppy eyes and pout again. “Missy!”

He’s so cute, you think to yourself. Marius, you’re too cute. It’s starting to feel unfair…

Oh, but he is. Your gaze is fixed intently on him as he tries to pull the ears of his new fluffy puppy headdress—you take note of the way his lips curve in delight every time he succeeds, of the way his dazzling, dazzling amethyst eyes brighten in felicity—

Your breath catches as you finish the thought.

Every time he looks at you.

Right now, he’s preoccupied with the new stall in front of you: a small cart of cheap scarves and jewelry owned by a really, really kind old man. He says he’s heading home in a few to celebrate Christmas eve with his family, but he needs to catch up with sales first.

Looking at your boyfriend’s cheery grin as he converses with the old man, you know exactly what he’s planning to accomplish.

And you don’t know what, when, and how it all happened—it feels like a blink of an eye as you stare at the old man pushing his almost empty cart home. You give Marius a sideward glance—and you couldn’t suppress the rich laughter that comes out of your mouth.

Fully aware of how hilarious he appears, your boyfriend joins in on the fun.

Marius von Hagen. The Marius von Hagen, acting CEO of Pax—adorned with a neon pink scarf and a few more pastel-colored ones wrapped around his neck, four plastic rings on his fingers, and a “Merry Christmas” headband on his head. Your first thought was that he looked utterly hysterical he could be a circus clown; somehow you don’t feel any guilt with it. Ah, because it’s true!

As if to entertain you even more, Marius places a hand on his hips and twirls around before he walks on a straight line—just like a contestant on a beauty pageant, you realize, and you burst out laughing for the second time around.

“Goddammit,” you curse, feeling your abdomen burn as well as your breathlessness.

“Oneee-san,” he calls to you in the softest, painfully adorable voice ever, “are you done making fun of me? Aren’t you going to coddle me now, Missy?”

“Haha, s-sorry…”

“Pfft, look at you talk. You don’t even see yourself right now,” he huffs, crossing his arms. “You look worse than I do, seriously.”

“Excuse me?”

“You look like a homeless wreck,” he adds in a more teasing tone, “hehe, the slit on your dress looks like it needs sewing.”

Maybe your minds are indeed now connected, because the moment you take your first step towards Marius, he’s already a few feet ahead of you, running as fast as he could. His long legs serve him well as his head start, while you, unfortunately, are about to suffer from blisters from running barefoot on the cobblestones.

“Marius. Von. Hagen! Come back here, you brat!”

He’s slowing down, you think, and you prepare yourself for the long-awaited payback you’re about to give Marius. That’s it, he’s slowing down!

But your calculations are wrong. Instead of slowing down Marius has stopped entirely, and your mind breaks into a panic as you realize that you’re not strong enough to stop your pace all of a sudden—and as expected, you crash onto Marius… who had his arms wide open.

The force is too much that Marius deems fit to hold onto you tightly and twirl the both of you around. Your face is still buried in his chest, and you feel just how warm he is—so nice, so comfortable you yearn to stay there a little while longer. You bask in the sweet fragrance he exudes, of the sheer coziness he brings upon you that it takes you quite long to realize how Marius hasn’t let go of you yet.

“Marius?” You try to tilt your head to look at him, but he doesn’t budge and instead, tightens his embrace on you. His chin rests atop your head. Suddenly you feel long fingers caressing your locks. “Mm, what are you up to, baby?”

“Hmm? Hugging the love of my life, obviously,” he chuckles. “What do you think?”

You giggle against his chest, using it as your chance to hide your reddened cheeks. “I don’t know, suffocate me to death?” you almost snort, your fingers gripping tighter on his coat. “Well, I—oh no, Marius, is it…?”

“Shit.” Marius instinctively pulls away from you to remove his coat. He then hoists it above your heads as a futile attempt to shield you from the sudden rain—but to no avail since no weather forecast mentioned of a surprise icy battering ram in the middle of the night, one hour before Christmas day.

The two of you bolt running towards the nearest shelter—but the evening sky is like a shadow cast overhead and you see almost nothing save for the streetlights and Christmas LEDs wrapped around trees and houses; the rain shower adds up to the poor visibility in the area, but even so, there isn’t really a shelter nearby.

You and Marius are already soaked by the time he used his coat as protection anyway, so you halt running, leaving your boyfriend confused. “Shit,” he curses, sprinting back to you, “come here! You’ll get sick—”

“Marius!” You cup your hands on either side of your mouth as you call out his name a little loudly, trying to outdo the rain’s heavy showering. “The coat! It’s useless!”

“What?” he shouts back, “what do you—”

Marius is speechless when you grab his hand, tugging him happily towards you—you giggle when your face bumps against his chest even if your nose stings a little. “Ow, haha…”

But before he could even say something, you take his hand for the second time and, under the pouring rain, twirl yourself underneath his hoisted arm.

Right after it, you grab both of his hands this time and look into his still astonished eyes—the sight of it makes you laugh, and while you do, you take one step towards him, and use the same foot to step backwards. You slightly tug at him too, gesturing for Marius to emulate your movements.

Y/N, he thinks to himself. You want to dance in the rain?

Suddenly Marius captures your wrist and pulls your body flush against his. “You’re so fucking cute,” he says almost inaudibly before cupping your face with his wet hands, “i want to kiss you, i really want to.”

With those words—and a quick nod of approval from you—Marius draws close, closer, until you feel his warm lips brush against yours. It almost felt like he was moving in slow motion, his mere presence blurring everything around you.

Good, you think. Let it all go, Marius. Tonight, I’m all yours.

For now, you flay all pretend, all inhibitions. There are no one else in this deserted park, just you and him—for now, the only real thing is the softness of Marius’s lips against yours, the unhurried demand of his tongue drawing yours out, the electric shivers that races through you at his touch.

You sigh when he pulls away, but seeing how he grins at you excitedly, you figure it out in an instant: more blisters.

Haha, you think. Not that I mind.

You let out a giggle when Marius takes your hands, twirling you around—again, and again, careful not to make you dizzy too much. “Onee-san, no one told me dancing in the rain was this fun.”

He guides your hand to his shoulder, and he holds the other one, extending your entwined hands to shoulder level. His free hand rests on your waist.

“Remind me to take you out on stormy nights.”

Marius plants a small kiss on your forehead and, in one quick motion, spins you around—when your bodies face each other again, Marius secures you with a strong hand on your back and abruptly dips you so low you almost felt your head hitting the ground. Just like dancing tango, you remember.

And so you flex your leg and bend it upward in a graceful, almost sensual manner, then your hand pulls away from his touch to let your arm fly free to your side as he lowers your body.

“And remind me to set up lovely lights in my living room.” Marius lifts you back up with such great force, ensuing a gasp coming out of your lips. “So we get some pretty ambience while I waltz you all over it.”

Your bodies sway in sync, your fingers now running through his damp hair of midnight-blue—both your smiles are too wide that they are unmatched, eyes glistening with overwhelming delight.

“Y/N.” Marius fastens the pace of your dancing, his hand moving up to where your jaw and neck met. “I think I’m seeing sparks everywhere.”

“Haha, don’t worry.” Your laugh echoes across the empty park. “You’re certainly not alone.”

“That’s good to know.”

And so you danced with Marius, the love of your life, so blissfully it didn’t matter whether there was a storm or not—all there was were swaying bodies under the moonlit night of Christmas eve, two youthful souls having the time of their lives.

Your back is now against Marius, the movement of your bodies now slower; his hands are wrapped around you and his chin rests again on your shoulder. Caressing his face were your soft little fingers, your other hand placed atop his own. “You’re ferocious,” you chuckle, eyes closed as you sway mindlessly, “that, or my stamina has become all rusty.”

“I’m not Mr. Extreme Sports for nothing,” says Marius, his breath tickling your skin. “Hehe, maybe I also got a little too excited. It’s not everyday I get to dance with you under a storm.”

“You owe me midnight snacks, Marius.”

“Just midnight snacks? You’re making it too easy for me. Don’t you—”

Your sudden movement interrupts him. You panic when you catch a glimpse of your shoes, as well as the few scarves and paper rings you and Marius left on a nearby bench before you decided to dance the night away—you were too caught up in the moment, you almost forgot your belongings…

You grab your unattended things and walk back to where Marius stands. You’re smiling up at him, waving your free hand as you tread closer—only for you to be get a little confused. Marius wears not his usual grin on his face, his body now more tense; but his eyes, his eyes hold something different.

“Marius?”

He doesn’t respond, but his eyes are fixated on you.

Oh, it’s pretty unfortunate that couldn’t read what was going in his brain. Never you mind, though, for it is all you—all you in his head, all you in his heart. Every thought, every beat. You, you, you.

Y/N, he thinks to himself. She’s so beautiful.

Water rivulets were dripping from your hair down to your neck, collarbone, chest. Marius’s muse appeared utterly alluring underneath the iridescent moonlight.

So gorgeous, I want to kiss her.

Because even with your tousled locks and your sleeveless velvet gown all wet and bedraggled from the rain and mud, you still made his heart skip a beat—the sight of you enough for Marius to suddenly need a breather, to make the man lose his head.

I really want to kiss her.

You sigh in relief when you see him move from his once frozen stance. “Gee, Marius. I got nervous thinking something happened to you—”

Gripping your shoulders, Marius leans forward to selfishly claim his second kiss tonight. You wonder if kissing you was what he was thinking moments ago. Ah, but that doesn’t matter now…

Your arms instinctively wrap around his torso, his slender hands finding comfort on your waist. “Sorry,” he says, breaking away for a millisecond to whisper against your lips, “but you look so beautiful, I couldn’t tame my greediness tonight.”

“Marius—”

He kisses you gently at first, but after a while, his kisses grow hotter, more fervent—and you willingly part your mouth so his tongue could enter past your lips.

His lips… So soft… You feel your cheeks heat up as your thoughts run their own will. Somehow you already know what you want for Christmas.

You pull away, your breathing slightly ragged. “Marius,” you breathe, “do me a favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Want. You,” you say, still catching your breath from all the kissing you just did. “Exquisitely wrapped as my Christmas gift tonight, with a pink ribbon on top.” I wonder how he’s going to take this jest of mine…

Shit, you think, seeing Marius just openly staring at you. Really… Why did I make such a lame joke while we’re being intimate…

“I love you.”

You instantly tilt your head, staring back at him. “What?” you ask, dumbfounded.

His hands still resting on your waist, he tugs you a little closer. “I said,” he repeats, his amethyst eyes brimming with euphoria and admiration, “i love you. Y/N, I love you.”

You unconsciously tighten your grip on his shoulder, and with the threat of tears in your eyes you confess so keenly to him, “I love you too, Marius. I love you too.”

Marius almost flinches. Shit. Critical hit.

And then there’s silence between you; comfortable, at the same time thrilling. You hear the strong drumming of a heart—yours? His? You have no idea. All you know is that this evening is one of those nights you won’t forget, ever.

At a loss for words, all that escaped past your lips was a single word: “O-okay.”

But his lips curve into that smile again, and in a low whisper, you hear him say it back. “Okay.”

It was only then that the two of you realize it’s not raining anymore. The cobblestones are still damp, some steps still muddied. For whatever reason the streetlights now flickered a mix of melancholy orange and yellows, and the place got even quieter.

It feels like the world is giving you and Marius all the time, space, and chances you need for tonight.

You feel aching on your foot. You look down on your toes, seeing blisters all over your feet. But Marius’s shadow snags your attention, and you see him offering a hand to you.

“It’s time for us to return home,” he says. “Hop on my back, I’ll carry you to the car.” And maybe we could dance in the empty parking lot, too.

“Okay.” You wouldn’t admit—even if it was already obvious to him—that you’re still shy and flustered from your confessions this evening, so you keep quiet the entire time.

You hop onto his back, his strong hands gripping on your thighs to prevent you from slipping away. When your arms make their way around his neck, falling all the way to his chest, you feel yourself getting flustered again—he smells so good.

Marius easily carries you. He begins to walk back to the hotel parking lot, a comfortable silence hanging over you. Suddenly you hear his digital watch beep a few times.

“Y/N.” Marius angles his head slightly to the right to get a glimpse of you. “Thank you for tonight,” he says in a low, sweet tone, “merry christmas, baby. And just in case you haven’t processed it yet—Y/N, I’m certainly drunk in love with you.”

Everybody’s talking about brands and stores you’ve never seen in real life. You generally assume they exist, but they might as well be one giant prank the rest of the internet is in on.

You find a post that just sounds wrong. It makes no sense. It’s like OP lives in a weird alternate reality. 9/10 times, it’s just some USAmerican Thing.

You’re still not entirely sure how much an inch is. Or a foot. Or even how many of the former there are in the latter. You maybe know your height in feet and inches.

You have no idea how much a pound is. You’d also like to know how the fuck pound shortens to lbs.

What the fuck is “military time”

Somebody talks about some legal process or something similar. They don’t mention which country’s legal system this pertains to. You know anyway.

People talk about politics. None of it pertains to you. Many posts contain guilt tripping. “How can you not care about this?? Why won’t you reblog this?? People need to know this about x candidate for y position!” You’re busy trying to stay on top of the political landscape in your own country.

You pick up some random slang from the internet. Monkey see monkey do. You’re called racist. You didn’t know it was AAVE. You learnt it from black letters on white background, not from the mouths of people whose faces you could see. How would you have known? You try to unlearn it.

People tell you that you must publicly denounce Chick-fil-A or you’re homophobic. You don’t even know what a Chick-fil-A is.

People say you don’t know LGBTQ+ history. What they mean is you don’t know USAmerican LGBTQ+ history. Nobody cares about your country’s history.

You’re “called out” on using an “offensive” term. It’s (a direct translation of) a completely harmless word where you live.

People expect you to have an idea of how far apart 2 USAmerican states are. You barely know geography past your country’s immediate neighbors.

You randomly switch between British and American spellings. Nothing’s real and there are no rules.

People talk about multiple hour car rides and you get twitchy just thinking about it. You suddenly understand why USAmerican cars are so big.

Somebody talks about school shooting drills. You only ever had fire alarm drills.

You see a cool statistic. The study’s only about the US. It’s unfortunately of no use to you.

People misuse/misspell words and names from your native language. It’s tiring.

(You feel sorry for the French. Nobody should be allowed to mangle the word déjà vu like that.)

You’re still not over the fact that USAmerican school children are supposed to say that pledge thing every morning. You’re never getting over that.

You still don’t know why the men are fresh or what the fuck a sophomore is.

Who the fuck pays up first and then fills up gas??? That’s made up, right??

Everybody has a weird obsession with some comfort food you’d never even heard of before you signed up here.

Every time people talk about healthcare or workers’ rights, you want to cry.

“Christian” is shorthand for “Evangelical Protestant”.

When people make cracks about how tiny European countries are, you want to bring up your own as a counter-example… but then you remember you’ve never even seen most of it.

“Why would [person with a doctorate] from [X country] know how to speak English?”

“That’s not your real accent, is it?”

People using African-American and Black as synonyms.

People who have never been to your home town trying to convince you that it’s a warzone. (Okay, this one is mostly Facebook.)

“I would love to study a second language!” You have studied seven. The only one you can carry a conversation in is the one that’s used in all the movies.

You’re not sure who the “Founding Fathers” of your country would even be.

You’ve never been forced to read any of the classics people mention, and haven’t even heard of some of them.

“Oh my god how can you not know this song/film/show it’s a classic”

First time seeing people asking for money online for things such as medical treatments or bills

How tf does college work how is it different from university still don’t know

Grammar? I mean I remember some rules

Having a vague understanding of some terms but enough to use them (I hope)

What the actual fuck is your voting system

Ok so this state is shit but why do we hate it?

Where is this meme from/why is this a meme? But I guess it’s funny (I’m still confused about the Robert B. Weide meme)

You don’t understand how Americans don’t have National ID cards. In your country it’s virtually impossible to get anything done without a National ID card

You still don’t get the point of primaries since in yours and virtually every other country you know the party chooses it’s own candidate

You don’t get the concept of schools having their own school buses which pick up kids from home

You are used to landlords being people who inherited a second apartment and are renting it for extra cash.In the USA landlords are apparently people who own entire buildings and even entire corporations who own multiple buildings

You don’t understand why are tips being considered a part of the paycheck

You see people making fun of a ads on prescription medication. Ads on prescription medications are illegal in your country. 

You thought names like West, Destiny, or Storm are nicknames or a pseudonyms, because in your country you can give children only actual given names with prescribed spellings

You have no idea what a sorority or a fraternity is supposed to be and at this point are too afraid to ask 

You understand 9/11 is a touchy subject, but while undestanding the significance, are not sure, why Americans react to it so strongly still

Then you realize it was a safety shock because the last war fought on american soil was in the 18. century. You think of all the times an old WW2 bomb, or mine was randomly found in some field, or construction site and the new buildings you know stand on a war ruin with surreal feeling

You see absolutely enourmous portions of food and drink. Your inner US thing detector fires up. You don’t question it anymore

You read about “anecdotic” stories that go: “Fortunately i managed to wake up in time to stop people from calling an ambulance” and try to understand why would you not want to call and ambulance after an accident

You try not to involve yourself on political US discussions anyore because you learned through error that the american spectrum of the Left und Right is so staggeringly different from the one in your country that you do not even know how to even begin with trying to align your views with each of them

Re-reading a sentence in confusion only to find out people really do, in fact, normally buy medicine in a hypermarket along with their gorceries

You see a video of someone heading at a speed towards a wall. You cringe in horror and anticipation of a painful impact only for them to make a hole. In the wall. Houses in your country are built from brick, stone and concrete 

Being thrust into a sudden heated and surreal discussion on gunlaws that only starts making sense when you find out people normally own guns without a firearms license

People are buying guns at in a department store… like Walmart

wait a minute you’ve heard of “nickelodeon” before. maybe its something like that

you watch most movies in english because most american movies are dubbed by the same 5 people and it gets real old real fast

you still refuse to believe that red solo cups actually exist outside of tv

Oh we hate this politician? ok but why

literally how are y'all alive with that healthcare system

Not trusting the police sounds scary

My country doesn’t have an army so, um yeah what even is a veteran

what are any of y'alls holidays?

seeing “only 2000’s kids will remember” posts and not knowing any of the stuff mentioned in there. you lived different childhoods

why??? are the houses????? made from???? cardboard???????

the thought of people just carrying guns around terrifies me

your school gives you lunch???

so you all speak about the different accents of each state but???? it all sounds the same????? it’s just american that’s it

what the fuck is the south and why is it like that

even if you get along great with your family you will get along even better with them after moving out 

generic is almost always just as good as name brand. But there are some things you never buy generic, including: peanut butter, ketchup, liquid NyQuil, Chips-Ahoy chewy chocolate chip cookies

just imagine the person on the other end of the phone hates talking on the phone as much as you do. Even a receptionist. I worked as one and I hate talking on the phone

at least once in your life you will go to Wal-mart to buy something under $20 like an ironing board or something and your debit card will get rejected. No one will judge. Everyone at some point in their lives has had $2.98 in their bank account. 

thrift stores

everyone else is too busy panicking about everyone else noticing every tiny thing that could possibly be wrong about them to notice any tiny thing that could possibly be wrong about you

you will screw up. a lot. you live and you learn. and when you start to think too hard about that embarrassing thing that happened and how you wish you could change it, just tell yourself that what’s done is done. There’s no changing it, so just forget it and move on. It’s the only way to stay sane.

do the dishes before the sink grows its own ecosystem

you can’t put Dawn dishsoap in the dishwasher. 

if you are the only one in the aisle at the grocery store, and you need to get from one end to the other without even looking at anything in that aisle, then you should totally cart-surf down the aisle. Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional. Hold on to the little things. They make all the difference.

never try to make cake from scratch at 3am. You end up with a topographical map of Middle Earth.

15% tip. 

the best way to get money for food is to tell your grandparents about how you basically live on microwaved mac and cheese. Their horror may result in twenty bucks and orders to go out and get yourself “a real dinner”.

sometimes life sucks, and knowing that it might get better doesn’t always make it suck any less, but you’ll never get to the non-sucky days without enduring the suckiness. 

no seriously, NEVER put Dawn in your dishwasher

Always check the type of light bulb that goes in lamps. A 60w is not interchangeable with a 40w.

Rice, pasta, flour, sugar, cheese, eggs, milk, a pack of chicken, a pack of frozen veggies and a well stocked spice cabinet go a long way food-wise. Splurge and get the biggest container of rice you can. You don’t have to go back and buy it again anytime soon and it makes a TON of meals in the meantime.

Rice can be cooked on the stove. You don’t need a fancy rice cooker. Two parts water to every one part rice (two cups water for one cup of rice for example). Get your water boiling, add rice, put a plate or lid on it, put it on low for 20 minutes. It should be done.

Keep a calendar on your pc of bill due dates. If your bills are set up at inconvenient times, like all of the services started on the first or something, then call up the company and find out if you can get your billing date switched to something more manageable. A lot of places do try to work with you.

There is no shame in calling a company and asking for an extension on a bill. Let them know what you can pay, pay that amount, and they arrange when the rest of the payment is required. This can stop you from having services shut off man. It shows responsibility on your part.

Take time to eat, even when you don’t feel like eating. Your body needs energy to live.

Wash or rinse your dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. It prevents gross caked on junk.

“The Works” is an excellent cheap toilet cleaner.

MAGIC. FUCKING. ERASERS. THEY WORK ON EVERYTHING JUST DON’T SCRUB HARD. I took the ring out of our bathtub with one. Also generic ones work just as well.

Keep some bleach around but if you use it for cleaning? Dillute it. There’s rarely ever a case where you need to pout straight bleach on anything. A cap full or two in a bucket of water works just fine.

DO NOT MIX CLEANERS. Chemical reactions are can be very dangerous. Here’s a good list. (Note that vinegar and baking soda can actually be a good combo for removing smells from things but it’s not very good at actually -cleaning-.)

If you drink? Don’t take meds at the same time it’s just not good.

Make sure you check the dosages on your pill bottles. No one wants to accidentally overdose on cough syrup or ibuprofen.

If you have a uterus make sure you have a heating pad and ibuprofen on hand for the pain. Hot baths also generally help and Ginger Tea is excellent for any nausea.

Buy a first aid kit. It’s worth it in the long run.

You can often do your taxes online at places like TurboTax.

Here’s some good sex ed resources because I had to explain what a yeast infection was recently. 

Petroleum jelly (aka Vaseline) is good for chapped lips and you can get a decent sized tube or tub of it (generic brand version) for cheaper/same price as Chapstick.

KEEP TRIPLE ANTIBIOTIC OINTMENT IN YOUR HOUSE FOR CUTS AND SCRAPES AND SORES. 

~~Medications~~

Over the counter medications (stuff you can buy right off the shelf no prescription needed) have a name brand and a generic name. ALWAYS buy generic if it’s available it is literally the same thing and way cheaper usually.

Some names to remember when you’re looking for meds!

Acetaminophen = Tylenol

Used to treat pain and reduce fever. Do not take with Ibuprofen.

Ibuprofen = Advil, Midol, Motrin

Used for pain and fever, is an anti-inflammtory. Is good for period cramps because it is an NSAID (non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug).

Naproxen = Aleve, Naprosyn

Treats fever, pain, arthritis pain, gout, period cramps, tendinitis, headache, backache, and toothache. Is also an NSAID.

Acetaminophen + Asprin + Caffeine = Excedrin

Usually marketed as “Migraine Relief” as a generic.

Asprin = Bayer

Use for pain, fever, arthritis, and inflammation. Makes you bleed easily so should not be used for periods. Might reduce risk of heart attacks.\

Triple Antibiotic Ointment = Neosporin

Used on cuts, sores, and scrapes to reduce risk of infection and promote healing.

if you live off ramen, add stuff to it! add veggies you like, don’t use the whole flavor packet to cut down on sodium and msg or don’t use it at all and add your own spices.

if you’re making something with potatoes in it (beans, stew) potatoes are done when you can easily stab a fork through them.

you can microwave a hotdog as long as you put it in a microwave safe container of water. microwaves work by making water molecules vibrate. also, when reheating rice leftovers, add a small amount of water, like maybe a spoonfull, so it doesn’t get hard and crunchy.

the rice cooking advice above is for long grain rice. if you’re making short or medium grain rice, a 1:1 ratio (one cup water for one cup rice) is better, so the rice doesn’t come out too mushy.

buy a few cans of chicken. wholesale club stores like sam’s, costco, or bj’s tend to carry multipacks for a good price. they’re incredibly useful for when you forget to defrost meat.

buy meat on sale and put it in the freezer. buy vegetables on sale, and put them in the freezer. frozen veggies are often as flavorful and good as fresh ones, keep longer, and often come in microwaveable bags or with microwave directions.

soak ink stains in milk to help get them out or at least lighten them.

soak blood stains in water as soon as possible, with a bit of detergent or stain remover. scrub at them. use cold water, heat binds proteins to fabric. tbh, there’s no real need to change the washer from cold-cold setting unless the thing you’re washing says to wash in warm water.

-coolant or water if your car overheats (coolant is preferable cause it won’t hurt the engine in the long run but hey i know money is tight) 

-flashlight in case you break down at night and need to check under the hood and your phone is dead

-SPARE TIRE. 

-jumper cables.you will at some point leave your lights on. you just will. 

Don’t be afraid to go to your local food bank. They are there for a reason.

1. Buy a roll of parchment paper from the cooking shit aisle. A big roll will last you for-fucking-ever. Pretty much any time you’re using a baking pan you can line it with that stuff and save yourself A: food sticking to the pan and B: it’s a quick rinse and it’s clean.

2. Bread can get fucking expensive, so make your own. A bigass bag of flour and a bag of active dry yeast (store it in the friiiiidge!!!) works out a FUCK of a lot cheaper than buying bread at the store, and you can do so much more with it. Bread, pizza, rolls, cinnibuns, homemade pizza pockets. It seems intimidating but it’s stupid easy.

Seriously. It’s stupid simple to make, and most of the “3 hours” to make it is sitting around surfing the internet or doing whatever the fuck you want while the dough rises. If you have an afternoon free once a week to sit and play video games or surf the net, you have the time to make your own bread on the cheap. Here’s my simple-as-fuck recipe:

2 ¼ teaspoons active dry yeast (You can buy a bag of this stuff CHEAP in bulk stores, the little packets are hella stupid priced) 1 cup warm water (think a hot bath) 1 ½ teaspoons sugar 2 tablespoons oil (any kind works for the most part) 2 ¼ cups flour 1 teaspoon salt

1. Stir the yeast, water, sugar, and oil up in a bowl. Let it sit for about 10 minutes. It will foam up VERY high, this is the yeast getting happy! If it doesn’t get all foamy, the water may have been too hot or not hot enough. Remember, Yeast is alive! Treat it like a nice girlfriend!

2. Mix your flour, salt, and the yeast concoction up in a bowl.

3. Knead that shit for about 5 minutes. It will start sticky as heck, but will come together into a nice dough. If it’s still super sticky, toss in a bit more flour. Here’s how to knead it: 

4. Put your dough in a covered, lightly oiled bowl and leave it someplace warmish for an hour. At that point it will have roughly doubled in size, give it a gentle punch to release the gasses that have built up inside. Cover it again and let it sit for a bit longer.

Boom. You have bread dough. Here are some baking times and uses for ya:

Optional egg-wash: Just crack an egg into a bowl, add a pinch of salt, and mix the bejeebus out of it with a fork. Brush (or if you’re like me, goop it on with said fork) that shit thinly on bread before baking for a nice crust.

Pizza: Stretch it on a pan, stab the fucker all over with a fork, add toppings, bake 425*F 15-20 minutes. 

Bread Sticks: Make snake-shapes, let rest on pan 10-ish minutes, bake 400*F 10-20 minutes.

Dinner rolls: Make ball-sized (yes those balls) balls. Place on greased pan, let rest 10-20 minutes to rise. Egg-wash and bake 375*F 25 minutes.

Bread: Lightly score (cut) the top, let sit for 20-ish minutes on/in whatever you’re using to bake it, egg-wash, bake at 375*F for 20-ish minutes. It’s done when it sounds hollow if you knock on the bottom.

You bet your ass you can deep-fry this shit for cheapie yeast doughnuts. Roll that shit in sugar or dip it in whatever, it’s fucking tasty.

Bagels: YES. YOU. CAN. Form bagel-shapes out of the dough and boil them in salty water for about 2 minutes. Egg-wash them and bake them at 400*F for 10 minutes.

Cinnamon Rolls: Roll that shit out into a rectangle. Brush it with a mix of butter, cinnamon, sugar, and a pinch of salt (no exact amounts here, do it to your taste). Roll it up into a log, and cut it into discs. Let them sit 20 minutes in a pan and then bake at 375*F 15-17 minutes.

You can add whatever you want to the dough for some variety, just if it’s dried spices remember you really only need 1-ish tablespoons. I personally like making bread with about 1 tablespoon of dill in the dough. Roll it out flat, sprinkle it with cheddar, roll it into a log, squeeze the ends shut, and bake it like a regular loaf of bread. Cheesy dill bread OMNOMNOM.

*ahem* That got a bit long. But yeah. Bread’s expensive, yo. Save your wallet.

It works charm to pretty much ALL MY PANTIES because I can never predict my period. Even if you got lazy to wash, this trick will always do wonder to me.

Oh, and save up protein bars for hunger emergencies. Or bananas, if you need healthier option.

Vitamin A, D, E, and K are stored within your body fats. B and C are not, they bond with water and get disposed along with your urine. Watch out for these two. Take multivitamins to ensure your amount of daily vitamins, especially vitamin C and B.

Notice your poop and pee. At least you should poop once a day to avoid hemorrhoids (it's AWFUL), the color should be brownish, not too floating but not too sinking. And pee often to avoid urinary stones, make sure the color is clear. I drink milk/eat yogurt to induce poop.

Take breaks when you work. Position your gadgets and laptop and PC in the best way. Take a look at real plants, not pixelated ones, to refresh your eyes. Repetitive Strain Injury (RSI) is real and it's the worst.

Tips for Fanfic Writers About Paris/France

I know a lot of y’all are Americans/non Europeans and I could never fault you for not knowing what life in Paris is like, but with some fics out there it’s like I’m in the Midwest instead of the capital of France (if I have to read one more fic where Nino says y’all..) So, here are some writing/culture tips if you want to make your fic more authentic:

try not to reference to American brands unless you know for sure they are international. McDonald’s is universal and a-okay, Target really is North-America only. Research French franchises/brands/corporations.

On the other hand, a lot of American/anglophone media is consumed by Europeans, so referencing American pop culture is less out of place.

For the clubbing/college fics: teenagers/college students/people barely or never take a cab in Paris. It’s the most expensive way of getting around and even adults won’t even consider it. Alternatives: subway (used a LOT), buses, bicycles. Also, teenagers start driving at 18, so if your fic is set in high school, no using cars to get around! For trips to the rest of the country/europe: the train system is pretty good and widely used, even to get to other countries. Planes if it’s a distance that can’t be breached within 12 hours, usually. We’re not as used to long car rides. 

we pay with euros, not dollars. Yes, I’ve seen authors use dollars. 

If you’re writing about the high school system, don’t use the American one. So, no seniors/AP classes/SATs/middle school. Be ambiguous or do research. It’s all on Wikipedia, folks. 

Croissants are a breakfast/lunch food, not a pastry. They’re more like buns than like cupcakes and aren’t really considered snack food. Also, it’s not the only French food in existance, people. Try switching to madeleines, foie gras or escargots every once in a while. 

if you wanna be really hardcore about it, switch to the metric system. 

campus housing is not a thing. Students mostly/exclusively rent out small rooms/apartments throughout town. Tuition is often not nearly as expensive as in the USA  and students get government funding so student debt isn’t that big of a deal in France as it is in the USA.

Keep in mind that Paris is a city that’s centuries old. Layers upon layers of history are all compiled into one place. Within one mile you might see a cathedral that is from the 11th century and a townhouse from the 18th. That people still live in. If you like to be descriptive, mention the neoclassical or baroque buildings Marinette might encounter on her way to work. Especially in the center of the town, around the Seine, there’s little to no skyscrapers bc of building restrictions. The historical buildings as well as the view need to be preserved.

France has a large North-African population. When making OCs, maybe a Moroccan or Tunesian one is something to consider?

Most Parisian/European houses don’t have separate bathrooms per bedroom. Marinette does not have a bathroom adjoining her room as seen in the show, yet people still like to give her one in fics. Adrien is a rich kid and therefore an exception.

replace every coffeeshop you’ve typed up in your fic with café. Don’t let your characters order takeout, it’s not nearly done as often as in the US.

when mentioning clothing sizes, stick to L/XL/M/XS etc. The number system works a bit different here: women’s sizes are about 32-46, jumping even numbers (36-38-40 etc.) Same goes for shoe sizes: women wear about 35-42 and men wear 38-46.

Paris is divided into 19 parts called arondissements. the numbers follow the same swirl as the shell of a snail, which is an easy way to remember it. Neighbourhoods are called quartiers. BC Paris is a historical city and was grown instead of planned like most American cities, the streets are a maze instead of a roster. There’s no such thing as numbered streets or blocks.

the river is called the Seine, not La Seine. La means the (feminine), so the La Seine river means the the Seine river.

Again, if you wanna go hardcore: don’t use AM or PM but military time, as that is used exclusively in europe. (except for the UK but we don’t count the UK. Fuck Brexit) 

Any other questions, ask me or other french/european miraculers! Feel free to add more French culture stuff you come across, I’d love that! I’m going to Paris for the fourth time next week, so I pretty much know what I’m talking about and can help with landmarks etc.! 

roommates.mp4

-Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Lion King from Disney Broadway.

-Annie (Oldie but goodie)

-Avenue Q (Requires a tolerant mind but the songs are catchy)

-Cats (Story is a little bit whut, but songs are catchy too)

-Phantom of the Opera (If you can find the Ramin Karimloo version, great!)

-Love Never Dies (sequel of The Phantom of the Opera.)

winking

clenching

pulsing

fluttering

contracting

twitching

sucking

quivering

pulsating

throbbing

beating

thumping

thudding

pounding

humming

palpitate

vibrate

grinding

crushing

hammering

lashing

knocking

driving

thrusting

pushing

force

injecting

filling

dilate

stretching

lingering

expanding

bouncing

reaming

elongate

enlarge

unfolding

yielding

sternly

firmly

tightly 

harshly

thoroughly

consistently

precision

accuracy

carefully

demanding

strictly

restriction

meticulously

scrupulously

rigorously

rim

edge

lip

circle

band

encircling

enclosing

surrounding

piercing

curl

lock

twist

coil

spiral

whorl

dip

wet

soak

madly

wildly

noisily

rowdily

rambunctiously

decadent

degenerate

immoral

indulgent

accept

take

invite

nook

indentation

niche

depression

indent

depress

delay

tossing

writhing

flailing

squirming

rolling

wriggling

wiggling

thrashing

struggling

grappling

striving

Arouse -  agitate, awaken, electrify, enliven, excite, entice, foment, goad, incite, inflame, instigate, kindle, provoke, rally, rouse, spark, stimulate, stir, thrill, waken, warm, whet, attract, charm, coax, fire up, fuel, heat up, lure, produce, stir up, tantalize, tease, tempt, thrum, torment, wind up, work up