It was pretty hard planning a stargazing trip, especially when your boyfriend happens to be one of the biggest nerds about outer space. And no, Ivan didn’t want to take Alfred to some dinky-ass planetarium. They were going to drive out to the country, with a blanket and supplies and telescopes, and look up at the clear skies!

…the problem was that the day that Ivan had picked for their trip, a sudden torrential downpour had swept in, and ruining most of the plans he’d ever so carefully plotted out for weeks. Now that the Russian was pretty much upset and didn’t want to be spoken to, Alfred was finding it rather hard to talk to him.

“H—hey? Ivy? Big…big guy?” he tried gently, approaching the sulking Russian very carefully, like how one would approach a wet cat. “Are… are you alright?” he asks the other softly.

“Nyet, Fedya. Not fine. Stupid… stupid thunderstorm ruin everything,” Ivan grumbled crossly, turning away from him. “Ruined plans I made for tonight.”

“Tonight?” Alfred cued in, tilting his head to one side, confused at what his boyfriend was talking about.

“Fedya—Alfret,” Ivan tries again, turning around with a defeated sigh, “…wanted to take you stargazing tonight. But—but stupid rain ruined everything…” he mumbled, crossing his arms as he trailed off into silence. It wasn’t until the sunny-blonde heard the last sentence did he understand just why his boyfriend was acting so damned-ass weird the past few weeks, always blowing him off for something or other…

“Wait—Vanya, Ivy—we were supposed to go… tonight?” he says a few moments later, blinking at him.

“Y—yes, tonight. Our night. But… but weather ruin it all…” Ivan mutters, unable to let a sigh out after that. “Wanted…to make tonight special. For you. Us.”

When the last bell rings
And chaos begins
Everyone runs for the door
Because it’s the final day of school

No more waking up early
Or stressing about homework
Rushing to complete assigments
To pass them on time

The summer air’s inviting
It’s time to go swimming
Or even go on a vacation
Because school’s over, school’s out

Children screaming in glee
Kids, teenagers, even the teachers themselves
Are relieved that it’s over
They can rest and sleep in now

Sun’s out
Summer begins when everyone runs out the front door!

Little bugs fly around
Lighting up the darkness
Serving as beacons of hope
To those who are lost

Fireflies may be rare
But when they flock together,
Their understated beauty
Becomes all the more pronounced

Who said you can’t be a guiding light
Even if the rest of the insects mock you
Just because your butt lights up
And it can only do that—provide light

Don’t let the others get you down
Stand proud, little firefly
Fly high, set yourself free
Be the light that guides those who fall

Be the firefly you’ve always wanted to be
Achieve the impossible, chase those dreams!

“Léanne, how do you do this again? You just… shove the lemons into the juicer thing, right?”

The van den Berg household was a riot today, as the three children that called the place home were busy, trying to get lemonade stand set up for passersby in the neighborhood. While it was perfectly fine and legal, they knew that they had to get there first, otherwise the other children who lived in the same area would steal their idea and there would be a billion lemonade stands around the block.

“Yes, you just put it on top of the juicer and squeeze it!” the female called out, busy getting the glass pitcher and paper cups ready. The eldest, Claude, was already outside slap-dashing a rudimentary stand together, coming back in every so often to haul out a cooler filled with ice and get the stall set up.

For his part, Lars stood at the counter, busy with the prepared lemons and trying to literally squeeze as much lemon juice as he could out of them.

“Sis! It’s not moving!” he bellows a few moments later, looking at the lemon he’d practically had to cut up just to be able to insert it on the juicer.

The older sibling comes in and sees what her younger brother had done to the lemons so far, and resists the urge to laugh so hard.

“Lars. Lars, sweet brother, what have you done,” she says, shaking her head—although there’s a smile on her face. The innards of the lemons he’d tried to dump onto the juicer were scattered all over the counter top, a sticky mess starting to coat the surface.

“Look, this is how it’s done,” she adds a few moments later, picking up one of the few unsoiled lemon halves and showing her younger brother how to properly juice a lemon.

“Why does it have to be hot? Must we really be here at the beach?”

Under a colorful umbrella parked on the sand was a towel. And on that towel was a sweltering Ivan, busy applying as much sunscreen as he could all over his pale arms, his shoulders, his entire upper body and torso. Hell, he was even trying to reach for his back to slather it in the protective sunscreen!

“Aw, come on, big guy… its summer! What better way to spend some time than going down by the beach and catching a few waves?” Alfred replied, taking the bottle and squirting out some of the lotion onto his hands. “Turn around, Ivy, I got this,” and with that the taller man complied. A few moments later he could feel the lotion being spread all over his back, while the other took his sweet time just rubbing and massaging it in.

“Why do you catch fire so easily, Vanya? Don’t tell me you’re allergic to the sun?”

“I—Fedya, you know I come from cold Russian north, weather like this is unnatural to me. Is why I didn’t want to come along in first place,” Ivan muttered in Russian, trying to keep his body out of the sun as much as possible.

“Aw, c’mon big guy—that’s impossible. You’re not a vampire or anything, are you?” the sunny-blonde teased, finishing up applying the lotion all over the paler man’s back and shoulders. “If you’re going to stay here, I’ll be out on the waves! Catch you later!”

With that the American turns around and pecks him on the cheek before picking up the star-spangled surfboard he’d stuck in the sand near where they were parked on the stretch of beach, rushing out to meet the Hawaiian waves that were crashing in.

“Please be careful,” Ivan muttered again, reaching for his backpack and pulling out a book, the better to hide under the umbrella while his boyfriend was out on the ocean, hanging ten.

Or whatever it was the Americans called ‘surfing’.

“When should we tell them?

“That we’re all going on a picnic later when they wake up, mon chérie? Let’s surprise them.”

“But you know Alfred, once you mention food he’ll never keep quiet. Bloody hell.”

“Ah, Arthur, then I should handle making the food for then, non?”

Two parents were arguing in quiet whispers in the kitchen, standing over an island counter full of unpacked supplies. There were cans of food waiting to be stored, while there were groceries that stood on one side, some of the plastic bags still shimmering wet with a faint dew due to the frozen food that was in them.

“What should we prepare then?” one of the two blondes asked the other, irritable huff evident in his voice.

“Ah—didn’t I tell you before, that you’re not allowed to cook?” Francis teased his husband, mischievous glint in his eye as he began putting away the vegetables into the fridge.

“Why, you wanker—“ Arthur began to hiss, making his way around the counter and preparing to swat the other when they heard footsteps headed their way.

“Quick, act natural!” the other blonde hisses under his breath, and the two quickly go about the chore of putting away the groceries from their weekly trip to the local supermarket as two young boys come stomping into the kitchen.

“Dad, I want my candy,” the brighter blonde-haired boy asked, eyes looking up at the counter. “Where is it?!”

“Alfred, you’ve already had dinner. No candy after dinner, remember?” Arthur said his way, giving him a ‘please cooperate’ kind of glare. “We wouldn’t want to ruin your teeth now.”

“But—but the other kids in school get candy after dinner!” he whined, pouting as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I want some too.”

You are fire
I am ice
We are enemies
And also friends

Why do we fight?
Is it to win?
To lose, to live?
Or just to feel?

Bright, living fire
Cold, frozen ice
Our elements clash
And also yield

Can’t we get along?
Can we be friends?
I want to know
If you can stay

Here with me
Together, as one
Not far apart
Never an enemy.

Everything’s all black
When the lights went out and I
Was caught unaware

When sparks exploded
And the space went really dark
Are we in the gloom?

Where did the light go?
Why can’t I see anything?
Have I lost my sight?

The darkness scares me
Even if my friends mock that
I may be afraid

When the shine went out
Everything started to change
We dance in the dark

In the electrical night.

Having a water fight
In the late afternoon light
Can be so much fun
When it’s done under the sun

Balloons are thrown
Alliances are blown
Everyone picks a side
It’s going to be one hell of a ride

It would be better
When everyone’s wetter
When the rain starts to pour
At least it won’t be a bore

When everyone runs
And brings out the water guns
Start drenching each other
Until everything’s a blur

Gather up the logs
Bring in the stones
Build the pit
Pile the wood up high

Strike a match
Get some charcoal
Get a fire going
Watch the flames soar

The bonfire’s ready
It’s a beacon of light
That summons so many
Towards the beach

Bring your friends
Get the food
And the alcohol
Because tonight

We’re going to party
Until we all drop on the sand!

“No. There’s no way you’re getting me to ride that.”

Was he afraid of heights?

To be honest—he was actually pretty much fucking terrified ever since he was a kid—how high places made him get all nervous and fidgety, not to mention his anxiety would spike so much whenever he would see some of the taller roller coasters around a carnival theme park.

“But—I thought you said you could handle them, Lars?” the wheaten blonde inquired, pale purple eyes turning to meet a frightened emerald gaze.

“I—look, Mathijs, I lied, okay? I thought I could handle them. But—I haven’t told you this yet, have I? I’m—terrified of heights. Especially… really… high places. It just. I don’t know, it makes me all nervous, my hands get sweaty, I feel like I could faint at any time, I could—“ the taller blonde rambled, going on and on about the fear he’d been trying to keep secret for such a long time.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” he asks the other gently, hanging onto his arm.

“B—because… look, I didn’t want you to think so… so lowly of me. I’m just—I really don’t like those rides. The ones where… the ones where you’re just strapped in a dinky little chair, and then you get taken into the great unknown and then you’re like—your heart goes so fast you don’t know if it’s going to leap out of your throat or something. I—I can’t do this. I’m…I’m sorry, Mathijs, I can’t join you on the roller coasters…” he ends quietly, looking away from his boyfriend of many years.

“I—I don’t want to ruin our date, b—but…” he adds, more to himself than to the other.