#I just wanted to draw something cute about Amy and Cream

[renk0v]

Classic Amy and Baby Cream!!

[blazehedgehog]

Ignoring how current writers have been nudging in this direction, do you think Sonic and Amy have any genuine chemistry with each other?

I'm going to upset a follower or two and say... no, not really.

Their dynamic started out as a trope: Amy, the kid, falls for an older free spirit. It's the same thing as a 9 year old reading an issue of, like, Tiger Beat magazine or something and developing a crush on Justin Bieber or whatever celebrity "cute boy" is currently the "in" thing.

The joke being that instead of fawning all over him from the pages of a magazine, Amy Rose confronts him in person, and he has to be like "Uhhhh, thanks, but no thanks." But she hangs around anyway because she's crushing super hard. It's meant to be cute and one sided and harmless.

It became a problem when Amy started getting aggressive about it. When she began talking about forcefully taking Sonic. It very quickly stopped being cute. There are multiple horror movies about that exact topic.

They thankfully backed down from that, and I didn't mind how simple and cute it was in, say, Sonic Unleashed, where it went back to being just this nice little crush she had. She was there to support Sonic.

Where I start to draw the line is something that started with Sonic Boom, where Sonic is portrayed as someone in a position to reciprocate Amy's feelings. It's supposed to be funny, but there's this undercurrent of "will they/won't they" where they both kind of get nervous when the topic gets brought up and neither wants to admit feelings for the other.

That's just as weird to me as the days where Amy was expressing her love for Sonic violently, because Amy is definitely supposed to be younger than Sonic.

This is its own whole can of worms, because some would (rightfully) say that ages in Sonic games don't matter. It's rare that anyone acts their age anymore, and that's true of the modern interpretations of the characters.

And then there's the whole thing about age differences in relationships at all. Some people are only comfortable with a difference of 2-3 years, while others are comfortable with much wider gaps.

I'm of the opinion that the older you are, the less it matters. If you're 50 and you're dating someone that's 40, I would argue there's not much difference there. The more mileage you have, the smaller the differences become.

But if you're, like, 15? And you're dating someone that's supposed to be 10 or 11 years old? Then it gets real weird, real fast, for a multitude of reasons. We grow up a lot in a very short amount of time. And I say this as someone who, when he was 17, had a girlfriend that turned 16 while they were together. I was sat down and given "the talk" about how, when I was 18, it would be a long time until she was also 18.

You know. For reasons.

So while you could say that the modern interpretations of these characters all act roughly the same age (with Tails and Cream as an exception), I still remember the days where Amy Rose was meant to be this young little groupie with a one-sided crush on this older guy that rejected her advances.

Flipping that script and saying that Sonic is actually a little reciprocal now...?

Ew.

Doesn't matter how appealing they make Amy to Sonic. Ew ew ew.

[livewireprojects]

Pride Month 2024 Sonic Sketches

Second pic made in Procreate, kinda excited about it

Made a few sketches for pride month, kind of started out with a comic were Silver comes out to his mom as bisexual along with a pic of Blaze after telling her dad then decided to draw everyone at a pride parade & showing their pride

Everyone here is kind of based on my own ideas for the characters especially Mephiles since anything involving him has to do with the version I made for him for post-06 reboot. Also some stuff is in color(Blaze's forehead gem, Cosmo's necklace, Amy's headband, Sonic's hair clip, ghost aura stuff) cause it seemed fitting due to the meanings behind the colors on the pride flag.(Like purple for soul)

Middle row

Like the text says Blaze told her dad & he made her a frog hat to support her. He's a nice/friendly guy that cares a lot, it's unfortunate that Blaze's late mom was so terrible & left with Blaze for her own intentions.

Rouge & Knuckles at pride, I was a little worried about how well I got Rouge's bisexual flag makeup. I eventually fixed up the lipstick & added matching earrings. Knuckles unintentionally looks like a pirate cause I can't draw his hat at angles. So yeah my version of Knuckles & Rouge are bi, Knuckles use to date Sonic(in my ver) & Rouge has some interest in women in the past.(Especially Topaz at one point)

Here's Blaze & Silver, Silver has a bi flag cardigan. Pretty much at some point the two realized together they're bi. They eventually told their parents(well Blaze's mom is gone so she only told her dad) & they luckily have supportive families.

Surge isn't in my Lost Prince stuff but I thought she & Amy were cute together in the fanart people made. I also think Metal was interesting with Amy, at some point gets with her in the future in my Lost Prince AU. Metal at some point stops working for Eggman & tries to make their own identity after a talk with Sonic especially since they were becoming more sentient. Metal wasn't sure what he wanted but eventually figured things out.

Right row

The context of the sign is that this is meant to be Tails, Cosmo(revived as a plant/mobian chipmunk hybrid) & Cream when they're older & in their teens or later. The time skip is mostly cause at the moment Cream is pretty young in present day, Tails is too but he's slightly older. I guess you could say Tails & Cosmo had a puppy love or something then things got serious when they were older when Cosmo returned then later Cream joined them.

Cream is pretty accepting of who she's into, I dunno what Cosmo is into(I guess technically bi since she's dating Tails & later Cream when Cream joined the couple), Tails I think maybe straight but I dunno. At the very least Tails is supportive of his friends & brother.

Context for this is just I wanted to add Vanilla & her late spouse so them from the future. Added Vector cause him & Vanilla are kinda cute so he's her relationship from the future. So Vanilla's late partner is my OC Cake who despite willing to be called a dad by their kids(Cream & at some point Sonic cause I like the idea of the rabbits adopting him) & only them, Cake was nonbinary. The rabbit family is pretty accepting of people.

Decided to bring in Gadget & Zero/Infinite, the guy in the corner is Zero's late dad who I'll explain at a late point

And then there's these three. I'm not entirely sure what my thoughts on Shadow & Mephiles are, at some point I think I realized demisexual felt right for Shadow. Like I said before any of my thoughts on Mephiles are specifically for the version I made of him for post-reboot in Sonic 06. I was originally thinking of giving him the male gay pride flag but given what I've done with him in Lost Prince AU I kinda realized he fits in with demisexual too. While my version of Sonic identifies as male he likes dressing in whatever he wants & isn't exactly gender-conforming.

Sonic mostly dressed up for pride & tied a pride flag to his neck like a cape. For some reason Mephiles is the only one I tried making designs for on his outfit.

Here's a cropped version of the comic. Pretty much Silver & Blaze realized they were bisexual, at some point Silver got the courage to tell his mom & later his dads.*

For some context Silver's mom is male & in a relationship with men*, he's pretty accepting so Silver doesn't need to worry much. However his worries are understandable because of being around Blaze a lot & seeing how her mom treated her. Blaze's mom was strict & caused a lot of issues that Blaze is still recovering from. Blaze left with Silver & Venice at some point leading to meeting her dad & becoming estranged from her mom. Her mom is gone now but as said Blaze is still recovering. Silver's family(along with Blaze's dad) understand & reassure Silver, Venice & Blaze that the three are accepted/safe.

*I dunno if the marriage is legal at best I know Silver's dad & his mom's marriage is legal. Venice's(Venice is Silver's half brother) dad went missing for a few years(Eggman was behind it) & ended up joining the relationship after being rescued/talking things out. Venice's dad was able to be part of the wedding as another groom but I dunno if this counts as official/legal by human standards.(I guess technically official by Mobian standards)

Thought I'd make a version without the color for everyone to see. The text about the frog hat is missing because it was connected to the frame I made for the comic involving Silver & his mom.

[gbgamebun]

Road to Cream64 v1 Part 3: So many friends and an egg.

I was hoping to do two of these a week but man this has been a crazy week. Anyway, we back to wrapping up the rest of the NPCs. Actually had to grab

Star Toads were next and I wanted to make each one unique. The thought process for who got chosen was a mix of who was connected to Cream and just who I liked. The obvious answers were Amy and Blaze and I ended up choosing Blaze for the second toad. Doesn't mean I would leave Amy hanging, as she got a little side story in v2, but when we get there of course.

In Blaze's dialog, she mentions that Marine was also with her and that she's somewhere. So go help her find this mangy raccoon! I wanted to do something special and stick Marine in a level where you'd just run into her. Though with very limited code knowledge, even if you find Marine, Blaze's dialog stays the same. Mostly just a cute little event that would eventually fuel my desire to add more stuff like this in later versions. So much more...

The first star toad as you can see here ended up being a leftover from a small edit I did when just figuring out dialog edits and stuff. Eventually just ran with the idea of a single stubborn toad who refused to leave when Peach gave the order for every toad to go on vacation for this party.

Even after all the latest versions and dialog rewrites, his has been the only one that's stayed the same since v1. People really have come to love this little asshole.

For the last toad, I ended up choosing a little blue bunny for reason that should be clear: she be my bun bun.

Around early 2020 is when I finally had gotten out of my weird funk about my drawing ability and stuff and finally started getting back into Sonic stuff. Bare with me for a bit for I must go into a tangent into what I've been doing for the past few years before all this.

Near the end of 2019 I started slowly getting back into Sonic AUs and OCs again, a bit of that can be attributed to the Sonic movie and my friend's revigorated interest into that part of the fandom. One of my oldest characters, Mark, was stuck in a weird limbo of being in a Sonic AU and being in an original story for a few years. It reached a point where I just tired of it and shelved him to focus on an entirely new story and characters unrelated to anything I've done before.

Now back to the start of 2020, I actually go out of my way to try and update his design and do some stuff with him.

And we have our new design. I swear one day I'll go into his backstory but I'm dragging on. So where does this rabbit fit in? One of the new story bits I had in mind was that he would find a little rabbit named Katalina and adopt her. Then while he does his adventurin', he would leave her with Vanilla and that's how she would form a bond with Cream and the rest of her family. It's also why she calls Cream "Lil' Sis" in her dialog since she's like slightly older than Cream.

So yeah this hack is based off my AU, which is still mostly just told through these hacks. Don't blame people for getting real confused as to who the heck she is and eventually her adopted pappy. Sorry for the long bit, I rarely get a chance to speak about them as much like this. Speaking of, let's go back to him since that we're now done with the toads.

Changing Yoshi was just like changing the other model though this is the first time changing someone's model who was bigger than the model swapped (in this case it's using Mario's rig on a model that's taller). The best way to describe it is that the root position is off so he's kind of sticking a bit on one side, even if his shadow looks fine. His collision is kind of wonky as a result.

I would end up leaving this for v1 but it is something I would fix down the line. It was just a matter of changing the root point or even moving the rig a bit before exporting. Also noting, Mark here has changed again, with Blaze like fur sticking out instead of the weird white hair flowing from the back. Saved me a lot of effort down the line, lemmie tell ya!

Ya know I guess I should at least show what they're latest designs are. From the ref sheets I got, made by my friend @fudgernutter.

And now time for the big boy. That's right, it's time for Eggman and his Egg Koopa Mk 2!

God, this monster was one of the hardest thing to put together, if only just to uncrumple him so I can apply his textures and fix up the head mesh.

WHY IS YOUR JAW SO FAR APART?! It was one of those that was so bad I had to write down which bone was moved and how much so I don't accidently mess up the whole thing. Gah, it was a mess but as the years have shown me, it was 100% worth the effort.

It wouldn't be the first time messing with Bowser's model and rig, as I did an edit for Super Suwako 64 by turning him into a Cirno cosplayer. Don't mind the missing jaw, had messed up rotating on of the bones. This is what can happen.

The actual design of the EggBowz basically just comes down to "I wanted the robot to look as close as I can with him". So changed the hair to brown, the horn and spikes to gold to match Eggman's buckles, the upper torso is red to match his coat and the lower half is black for his pants and shoes. The mustache model is just his SA1's stache slapped on the front of the nose cause it seemed like something he would do.

Carving a hole into Bowser's head mesh wasn't too hard thankfully and then just repositioning Eggy to look like he's sitting and we're good! Still weird to think that it was initially just a random thought to actually do this but hey that's how half the ideas in his hack have worked out. Shoutouts to Cream nerds on twitter.

And with that, we got every major character swapped out! I suppose the last reoccurring character not mentioned here would be Mips so I'll just stick him at the end here.

Sonic is full of small animal critters so grabbing one of them was perfect for Mips. Ended up grabbing a model of Pocky from I forget either Smash 4 or a mobile game where the animal friends are there (and low poly). Everything here is still the Mips model except for the head obviously. Then just applying Pocky's textures and even connecting his ears so that they're a single mesh.

Whew that's a lot but there's not much else left. Just enemy models, UI stuff and the soundtrack and that's gonna be fun to discuss. Gotta see if I still have spreadsheets of the songs I chose before adding them.

[fraidy-farfelle]

This is my attempt at the Fluff ABCs for Frankie the Undead. Please be gentle with criticism because I cry easily. I’ve taken some ideas from @lovestruck-lasagna.

Taglist: @writingfromthetomb @beebubb

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Your dry sense of humor. It perfectly matches his insults and he doesn’t have to go out of his way to make you laugh. He just says what he’s thinking and you laugh and agree.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Frankie appreciates a good smile, and for many reasons. He learned to read smiles (fake vs real) early on and uses it to gauge people, so he pays particular attention by default. He’s a sucker for cute dimples, and loves the way your nose scrunches and your eyes close.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

He loves late at night when you share the couch and he can read a good book, sip on some whiskey, or puff on a cigar. He really doesn’t care what you’re doing, he can tune out the TV or you prattling on about your day and make comments to show he’s listening. Put your feet in his lap, lay on top of him, make yourselves mummies in blankets, so long as he can reach his glass he doesn’t care. He just wants to be with you.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Stay in date nights are his favorite. He doesn’t really like to “share” your attention. He likes to either cook a meal together or order takeout and watch a movie. Particularly black and white gangster ones, or older horror films. Likes to tease you if you get scared and grab onto him. He’ll pat your head and say something like “oh there there, don’t be scared! I won’t let the big, bad monster getcha!” (Like your neighbor isn’t a 7 ft tall children murdering clown demon) If you go out, he prefers less crowded places outdoors.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

He’s a spitfire and he knows it. He tends to explode and then after a few minutes apologizes gruffly and explains himself. “WHY WERE YA OUT UNTIL MIDNIGHT, THATS SUCH A STUPID THING TO DO!” “Sorry, Frankie.” “…… ugh just, please get home earlier from now on. It’s dangerous and I worry about you.” Definitely doesn’t hug you close so you don’t see the relief and worry on his face. Nope!

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

He misses Amy desperately. He wants a little girl in his life again, although he’ll never ever admit it. He’s hesitant to make relationships because he doesn’t want to be hurt again. But, if you go out with him to the living world, you’ll catch him staring longingly at parents and daughters when he thinks you’re not looking. If you ask him what he’s looking at, he’ll shake his head and spit out a line about children being obnoxious but you can tell he’s blowing smoke.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

If the underworld wasn’t so dangerous, he’d love to drape you in the finest silks with diamonds and rubies dripping off of you. However he doesn’t want you to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself. So, he settles for things you don’t really see in public. He also doesn’t like to be found out about it. Your gas tank is filled, the bill you were worried about has mysteriously been paid, your favorite ice cream is in your freezer when you know you ate the last of it yesterday, and hey, didn’t you spend this $20? Why is it in your wallet? If you ever bring it up he’ll just shrug and say “How strange!”

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

He’s torn about PDA because he doesn’t want you to become a target because you’re associated with him, and people stare at him enough because of his appearance. But on the other hand, he wants to show the world that someone as worthless as him (don’t say that we love you Frankie) has such an amazing person that loves him. Will absolutely grab you and passionately make out with you with one hand on your ass and the other flipping the bird to the cheeky bastard that told the broad beside him to watch out for the zombie.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Panic. Sheer panic. He’s so afraid to lose you, any injury is serious and cause for alarm.

Frankie:*bursting into a hospital lobby, screaming to be taken to f/n l/n immediately**running in the opposite direction the nurse pointed in panic**bursts into exam room 30 seconds later* “Y/N!!!!! I came as soon as I got the message, WHATS WRONG!!!”

You: *sitting on the table, reading phone* “Oh, I have a sprained ankle and they don’t want me to drive so can you give me a ride?”

Frankie:*slowly blinking* “Uh, yeah no problem…”

You: “lemme guess, you heard my name and hospital in the same sentence and ignored everything else.”

Frankie:*hanging his head* “go wait in the car, I’ll go apologize….”

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Not actual jokes, but he loves to sit with you and insult people. He’s an incredibly sweet person to you, but no one else. (Except service people, like nurses and waitresses. Just the general public) he doesn’t think pranks are funny or practical, which is one of the many reasons he and LJ butt heads. If LJ or Will prank you or him, he’s raising hell.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Love kissing your lips. He’s actually really self conscious about his mouth stitches and constantly frets they feel weird to you. Neck kisses are another favorite and are extremely private to him. He also likes to hold the back of your hand against his lips and tell you what he’s thinking, no matter how mundane. Kiss his stitches. Please. Just do it.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

He has trouble saying it to your face. He’ll whisper it to you when he thinks you’re sleeping, and he’s been known to leave little notes around for you to find. He thinks protecting you is the best way to show he cares.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

The day you finally broke down and told him you loved him. He knew as soon as he looked into your eyes and saw your smile his goose was cooked. He was very abrasive and hoping against hope that you’d leave him be. He knew you deserved better. He was so afraid to build a relationship and love again, he wanted to distance himself and if he was an asshole to you, it would be justified and you’d do it on your own. What he didn’t expect is for you to be so kind to him. Upon your initial meeting, he had been a little harsh, but helped you (if there’s enough interest I’ll do a fic about it) and so when he subsequently was a jerk to you, you were curious and determined to find out what he was hiding. He finally had been mean enough to make you cry. He had never regretted something he did before. He immediately wanted to cradle you to him and beg your forgiveness. Normally when he insulted you, you’d have a snarky retort in reply. But not this time. You fell to your knees and clung to his legs and demanded to know why he treated you so poorly and proclaimed your love for him. It was probably by accident and you were so distraught you didn’t even know it flew from your mouth, but hearing it, he couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t care about the consequences, he just wanted you. Hearing that you loved someone like him made him so happy, he knew he’d treasure the memory forever

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Losing you. Period.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

What ISNT odd about this man?! A cute one is he always winks with his green eye.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

I HC that he was born in the 30’s, so he calls you “doll” a lot but only in private. He uses your name otherwise so it’s not as obvious to people watching you’re together. He will absolutely refer to you as “the dame” to others. The equivalent of “the boss” or “old lady.” “William! The Dame is trying to take a nap, so shut up or I’ll shoot you!” You call him stitches to tease him in private and are the only person allowed to do so.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?) Either taking naps or couch potato time. Also, low key likes to cook with you. He can’t cook for shit, but likes to “help” by handing you things or chopping things for you. Is a super good taste tester, self appointed.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Stitches by Shawn Mendez (PLEASE DONT HURT ME!!)

We don’t have to Dance by Andy Black (referring to how he can’t really show you affection in public but he loves you)

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

He’s open about himself and what he’s thinking, and will always take what you say into consideration. He doesn’t like to keep things from you, but he does omit some detail about his jobs if you ask about them. He just feels like you don’t need to be stressed about it.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

LJ picked up on Frankie’s fondness of you almost instantly. He and Will decided to do what they could to get you together in the interest of making Frankie less of a grouch. If it hadn’t been for them insisting that he was good guy to you, you probably WOULD have let Frankie’s prickly nature drive you away. It took a year or so for you to break down.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?) A powder keg of insults, foul language, and bullets. Has actually never called you a name outright, and would absolutely never physically hurt you. When he was deliberately being rude to you, he’d insult your actions rather than you. “Stop acting like a dumb broad!” Vs calling you a bitch to your face. He usually calms down quickly, and is hardly ever angry at you, only when you put yourself in danger.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He likes that he’s scary and tough looking so that when you’re with him, other men scatter pretty fast. Has had many occasions where he stepped away and someone came to flirt with you and he came back and had the pleasure of scaring them.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

You are not allowed to do anything dangerous, ever! Will teach you how to use a gun and how to counter things like chokeholds, so you’re less vulnerable. Will absolutely lose his mind if he learns you’ve put yourself at risk. He will shoot someone so fast for you. Takes every person as a threat to you and will pick fights with somebody that accidentally bumped into you. Do NOT test this man.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

You are an open book to him. He’s learned to read people well, and he takes his time studying you. Can tell if you’re getting sick before you can. More than once he’s handed you a bottle of Tylenol, leaving you bewildered, and shrugged and said to take them because you’ll have a headache in a few minutes. He can pick up on your emotions easily and has learned what to do to handle them.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

Honestly, marriage isn’t that important to him. He’s not opposed to the idea at all, but like you’ve been together for this long, you love each other, is it really necessary? You’d have to tell him you want to be officially married. He’ll buy you a ring, to show that you’re taken, if nothing else, but he’ll wear his around his neck under his tie so it’s not obvious he’s attached to anyone to discourage his rivals using you to get to him.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

The smell of your perfume. Holding you in his arms and taking deep breaths makes all of his troubles go away.

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter fourteen

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn't expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rating: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

*

“A bit higher.” 

Beca pushed the small mountain-shaped shelf an inch higher, looking over her shoulder as she held it. “Like that?” 

Chloe nodded, smiling. “Perfect.” She walked over and handed Beca the drill, watching as she skillfully made a hole into the wall and inserted a dowel. “I didn’t know you were handy with tools.” 

Beca snickered. “Basic things only.” She twisted the screw in and hung the shelf, taking a few steps back to observe her work. “That looks cute.” 

Chloe glanced around the room, nodding as she absent-mindedly rubbed her belly. She had just reached thirty weeks, and Bean’s arrival was scarily close. The nursery was coming along nicely, the crib having just been delivered today, while the rest was pretty much done. 

The closet was full of onesies, tops, pants and a few dresses, swaddles, blankets, and loveys, and the dark oak changing table (matching the yet to be assembled crib) was stocked up with diapers, wipes, bodysuits, and a variety of creams and oils. 

Chloe had channeled her stress into reading as much as she could about newborns, what to do and not do, and while she had experience with babies from back when she was a teenager, she was relieved not to be doing this on her own.

“It does,” Chloe agreed, loving the subtle woodland theme she went for and all the love they poured into making this safe place for Bean. “It’s really cozy.” 

“Alright, now onto the big project,” Beca said, nodding towards the large package laying on the floor. “You’ll get to see how limited my knowledge of tools really is.” 

Chloe laughed and helped take the different parts of the cribs out of the box, then headed into the kitchen to get them some refreshments. 

The last six weeks had been really good. The Bellas welcoming her back with open arms had definitely helped with Chloe’s recovery, and her talk with Beca, that promise that she would wait for her to be ready filled Chloe with a renewed sense of self-worth and made her fall in love with Beca a little bit more. 

Chloe was now just over six months sober. The nagging for booze and snow sat somewhere at the back of the brain, and she doubted it would ever go away, but she was getting better at not listening to it. 

She stifled a laugh at the sight of Beca looking awfully perplexed by the instructions when she walked back into the room. “You good?” 

Beca chuckled. “Yeah. Just trying to make sense of this.” She glanced up to Chloe, accepting the glass of homemade lemonade with a smile and setting it beside her. 

“They sent us two baby monitors?” Chloe asked as she sat on the floor, noticing the two exact same boxes. They had ordered a bunch of stuff from the same website, and quite a few boxes had come with the crib while Chloe was at her NA meeting, and Beca had put everything in the nursery. “We only ordered one.” 

“No, um, I figured one more would be handy,” Beca said as she picked up one of the crib ends and two of the four legs, along with four bolts. “So I hear Bean when she cries at night, too.”

Chloe shook her head. “I can take care of nights. I don’t want your whole sleeping rhythm to be thrown off because of Bean, you’ve got work, too.” 

“I know, but I’m concerned the lack of sleep might mess up with your recovery if you handle it on your own. I’ve read some horror stories about some babies waking up every few hours and that for six months.” Her focus shifted from the crib assembling to Chloe. “I meant what I said when I told you you wouldn’t be on your own with this. But I don’t want to overstep either, so I want you to tell me if you need me to back up a little. I promise I won’t be upset.” 

Chloe’s heart swelled with more love. She didn’t know why she kept being surprised every time Beca showed her how dedicated to the both of them she was. Still, she felt a little guilty for disrupting Beca’s routine, but she knew Beca was right. 

“You’re not overstepping,” Chloe assured her, softly. “And I want you guys to bond, so I think you taking care of her without me might be a great way to do that.”

“Okay,” Beca murmured, smiling as she went back to her task at hand. “The label already knows I’m taking two months off once she’s born, so I’m around to help out. Maybe she’ll sleep through the night by the time I have to head back.” 

Chloe chuckled. “We can always dream.” She cleared her throat. “I was also thinking about Bean’s guardians, in case something happens to me, and I’d like for you to be one of them.” 

Beca paused mid-screwing in a bolt and met Chloe’s gaze. It was clear she was moved, and it made Chloe smile. “Of course. I’d be honored.” 

“Aubrey will be the other guardian, just so you know. So if I die, you’ll be seeing a lot more of her.” 

Beca’s nose wrinkled. “Is it too late to backtrack?” She asked with a soft laugh. Chloe knew she was just joking, as she and Aubrey got on really well, now. “I think Aubrey is a great pick. At least I know I won’t have to be the bad cop. But let’s hope she and I never have to be Bean’s guardians. I’m good with just being the cool aunt.”

The crib was easier to put together than they had originally thought. It only took Beca forty-five minutes, and once it was all done, Chloe grabbed the mattress and set it inside.

“It’s just missing one thing,” Beca said, casting Chloe a smile before she left the room, coming back a minute later. “Close your eyes.” 

Chloe did so, and it sounded like Beca was fumbling with something by the crib. 

“Okay, open them now.” 

Chloe let out a soft gasp at the sight of the animal mobile set up above the crib. A fox surrounded by mountains and clouds. “Beca…” 

“I wanted to get Bean a gift, and you mentioned an animal mobile, so I had this custom made with a friend of a friend.” 

“It’s perfect,” Chloe whispered, blinking back the tears pricking behind her eyes. She was used to crying over the smallest of things by now that she wasn’t embarrassed anymore. Wrapping an arm around Beca’s waist, she leaned her head over her shoulder, basking in the warmth and peace being in close proximity with Beca brought her. 

“I think so, too,” Beca murmured, her own arm coming up to wrap around Chloe’s back as she brushed a soft kiss to her forehead. 

*

Summer chilled to fall over the following week. Chloe was thankful for the cooler temperatures, as her body felt like a furnace on its own, she didn’t need any additional heat. Now thirty-one weeks, she had started to waddle, much to Beca’s amusement, it seemed, even if she only claimed to find it adorable. She also got winded after walking up a single flight of stairs and was insanely grateful for the elevator in Beca’s building. 

Hanging a left when it reached the right floor, Chloe headed down the hallway, pulling her keys out of her jacket pocket and sliding them into the lock. 

“SURPRISE!” 

Chloe jolted slightly, her hand shooting up to her chest in shock. Most of the Bellas stood in Beca’s decorated living-room, beaming at her. Above them hung a cute oh baby banner and a table was laid out with various snacks and a cake. 

“Oh my gosh, you guys!” She exclaimed as soon as she regained her composure, stepping further inside to hug each one of her friends tightly. “Did you do all this?” She asked when she got to Beca, awe leaking in her tone.

“Aubrey helped,” Beca said, nodding towards the blonde standing to her right. 

“Thank you,” Chloe murmured as she pulled away, embracing Aubrey next. It had taken some time for them to find their way back to how they used to be after so many years apart, and Chloe was so grateful Aubrey gave her a second chance. “Love you, Bree.” 

“Love you, too.” 

The afternoon was filled with fun activities such as onesie decorating, a Name that Tune game with songs that had the word baby in it, and a cupcake decorating contest. Towards the end of the day, Chloe was coaxed into opening the girls’ present, starting with the one Jessica set in her lap. 

“This is from all of us,” she said, smiling as Chloe peered into the bag. 

She fished the item out, her heart bursting in her chest as she unfolded the blue and gold onesie which bore the Barden Bella B. “Oh… I love it. Thank you.” 

The girls definitely spoiled Bean, gifting Chloe with a bunch of adorable onesies, animal stuffies, mittens, swaddles, a bear winter jumpsuit for those freezing days ahead of them, and an expensive-looking electric swing.

“This is too much,” she croaked out once she had unwrapped the large box, shaking her head in disbelief as the girls simply waved her concern off. 

“Oh, that’s from your parents,” Beca chimed in as Chloe reached for the second-to-last present. 

Tears pooled in her eyes (she had honestly lost track of how many times she’d cried in the last couple of hours) as she took the familiar item out of the bag. “It’s my baby blanket,” she told the girls as she unfolded the mustard blanket her mom had knitted while she was pregnant with her. She traced the name she had picked for her baby girl, which her mom had added in white lettering in a corner. Chloe smiled as she brought it to her nose; it smelled like home. 

The last gift was a pampering kit for Chloe, as well as a few items she would need for after labor. 

“I learned some stuff about childbirth that I wish I’d never known while looking for items to add to this,” Amy said with a grimace, drawing a giggle from Chloe. “I didn’t know things could tear like that down below.” 

Chloe winced along with the rest of the Bellas, her chuckle coming out strained. “Thanks, Amy.” 

Beca ordered pizzas for everyone, and the girls stuck around until nine pm, helping to clean up the living-room before they left. Chloe changed into her pajamas and made herself some herbal tea for her and Beca, joining her on the couch. 

“You okay?” Beca asked as she took one of the mugs from Chloe. 

“Yeah,” Chloe breathed out, curling up on the opposite end of the couch. “Thank you for today. It was so nice to see the girls again. I’m really lucky.” 

“You’re welcome, Chlo.” She motioned towards her lap. “C’mon, hand me those feet.” 

Chloe giggled, setting her feet on Beca’s thighs and biting back a moan as she started kneading the sole of her right foot. It had become a sort of a ritual these past few weeks, for Beca to give Chloe a foot rub while they chilled on the couch after dinner. “Am I going to lose those privileges once I’m no longer pregnant?” She teased. 

Beca smirked. “We’ll see.”

“I heard back from my old vet school, this morning,” Chloe said, following a few minutes of comfortable silence. She had been communicating back and forth with the advisor over there, who finally heard back from the head of the department. “Since I did two years of vet school already, I’d only have to do one more year to become a vet tech. They offered for me to jump into the school year in January, but that feels a little too soon after Bean gets here, so I think I’ll wait until September next year,” she explained as she rubbed her bump. “But I definitely plan on getting a part-time job waitressing or something by next spring, as soon as Bean is old enough go to daycare.” 

Finding a good daycare with availability had been a headache, but Chloe had luckily found a spot at the one she had set her eyes on in the neighborhood. 

“That’s great news,” Beca mused aloud, smiling. “I’m proud of you.” 

“I wouldn’t be where I am without you, Bec,” Chloe murmured, returning her smile. A groan flitted past her lips a second later. “Ugh, I need to pee again.” 

Beca chuckled as Chloe heaved herself to her feet and waddled to the bathroom. She had just shut the door behind her when a sharp pain in her lower belly made her double over, her hand shooting out to grip the counter while the other one cradled her bump. 

Panic gripped her insides as she slowly straightened when her head stopped spinning, letting go of her stomach to dip her hand past the waistband of her sweatpants. Her fingers met something warm and sticky, and Chloe’s heart lurched to her throat when she pulled them out, eyes zeroing on the blood. 

“No, no, no,” she muttered to herself, forcing down the lump forming in her throat with a hard swallow. She called Beca’s name, her voice wavering as tears rose to her eyes. 

“What’s wrong??” Beca rushed out as she rounded the corner, the sight before her answering her own question. Her eyes widened, and she paled, freezing for a couple of seconds before setting into motion. “I’m taking you to the ER. I’ll grab your shoes and coat.” 

Chloe gave a faint nod even though she wasn’t sure she registered Beca’s words. Her feet seemed rooted to the floor while Beca’s hurried steps faded. She couldn’t move. She kept staring at her bloodied hand as the most dreaded, terrible, gut-wrenching feeling seized her entire being. 

“I can’t--” she found herself saying when Beca appeared in her line of vision. The air got stuck in her throat before it could reach her lungs, just as her words died before it reached her tongue. She couldn’t lose her baby. “Bec.” 

“I know,” Beca murmured as she helped Chloe slip her jacket on. Her own hands were shaking. She bent down to guide Chloe’s feet into her sneakers, one by one, then grabbed a towel from the cupboard under the sink. 

Another cramp made Chloe cry out, and she felt more blood seeping out of her, in a greater amount this time around. She felt it dripping down her legs and choked on a sob, clutching at her stomach. 

The elevator ride and walk to the car was a blur, and Chloe found herself blankly staring out the window as Beca rushed to the hospital, hoping with all her might that her baby would be okay.

[beca-mitchell]

Summary: Beca and Chloe’s friends with benefits situation takes an unexpected turn when they try to get some time alone in the Bellas house. Set during PP2. Written for @bechloe-week!

Word count: 3,110

Notes: cracky fluffy nonsense born out of a dumb tiktok that chloe sent me. unbeta'd.

* * * * *

Read below or on AO3.

This is easy.

It is easy, waking up in Chloe’s arm and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips as to not fully disturb her from her slumber. The more selfish part of Beca, however, kind of wants Chloe to wake up because it makes Beca’s own waking state that much more enjoyable.

(Like sunshine after the storm. Something dumb like that. It’s gross, really.)

Easy is the sharp rap on Chloe’s door letting Chloe know that she’s finally done with that painful mash-up she had been slaving over for The Bellas’ upcoming Kennedy Center performance. The knock that lets Chloe know that she’s free and ready to cash in on a fairly new arrangement—an arrange not of the musical kind.

How it began was surprisingly easy too.

It had started innocently enough—as innocent as friends with benefits can be—just before they had started up school again for the winter semester. Alone in the large, sprawling Bellas house with nothing much to do, fresh off her third break-up (and this time it felt final) with Jesse, Beca had begun to tap (re-tap?) into the long-buried feelings she had harboured for Chloe, though she had framed it as an attraction, pent-up sexual frustration, and lack of satisfaction in her own life in and out of the bedroom.

“Attracted to me?” Chloe chirped, sounding and looking very much like the cat that had gotten the cream. “All this time?” Chloe had said all of this with a smile both sweet and sinful that it should have been illegal. She had also said it so knowingly and yet, incredibly kindly that Beca hadn’t really been embarrassed. Mostly just surprised. A scowl-y kind of surprised.

“No,” Beca had lied and pressed her lips against Chloe’s with reckless abandon.

The words, God, Beca was bad with words, had been painful the next day. Beca’s half-hearted explanation that it felt like a mistake; that Chloe deserved better than somebody who could barely commit to a long-term boyfriend...let alone whatever this was. Is.

Chloe, despite her tired disappointment and hurt written all over her face, had simply brought her sheets back up to her shoulders and looked away in quiet agreement. It had, however, been Chloe’s idea that if they ever found themselves in a similar situation again—where one needed nothing more than release and pleasure—they should rely on each other.

Beca had agreed. Easy, she had thought. Piece of cake.

* * * * *

“Amy’s spending the night at Bumper’s,” Chloe comments casually. Beca startles from where she had been bent over the kitchen counter, intently studying her textbook. “And probably the rest of the week.”

“Oh,” Beca replies, unsure if Chloe wants her to say anything in particular. She watches the back of Chloe’s head as she rummages through the fridge. She likes the way the harsh kitchen light seems to make Chloe’s hair look even prettier even though it always manages to make Beca look like an unwashed zombie. “That’s nice.”

“And Jessica and Ashley are spending the night at their study session.”

“Hm.”

“And Flo’s—” Chloe shuts the door suddenly, spinning to face Beca with an amused expression. “Beca. Do you really not know where I’m going with this?”

Beca’s eyebrows creep up her forehead. “I’m…” She pauses. “I—yes! Okay. Right. Um. Tonight?” she tries awkwardly. “Your room? Or—mine?”

Chloe giggles and rounds the kitchen island so she can spin Beca’s seat. Expertly, Chloe pushes her legs apart and moves to stand in between them, like she absolutely belongs there.

Beca resists the urge to immediately grab Chloe’s hips, interested in where this might go if she resists a little bit longer.

“Your room sounds like a good idea since it’ll be empty. You know I love your bed.”

“My bed’s smaller than yours.”

“Exactly,” Chloe whispers before she leans in all the way to steal a kiss from Beca’s waiting mouth.

It is so incredibly easy to lose herself in Chloe’s touch and her kisses. For a moment, Beca forgets that they are in the middle of a brightly-lit kitchen in the middle of the day and this is still a well-kept secret between them. For whatever reason, she still doesn’t know. All she knows is that she simply needs to have Chloe now—or at least soon, so she appeases herself with the knowledge that she gets to have Chloe tonight and she gets to taste Chloe on her tongue—all of her—and she gets to—

“Hm,” Chloe hums, pulling back. She smiles a wickedly innocent smile and thumbs Beca’s lower lip where a smudge of tinted lipgloss lingers. “Save some for tonight. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” Beca echoes faintly as Chloe makes her way out of the kitchen. Beca barely has time to collect herself when the kitchen is suddenly filled with Amy’s raucous laughter and the chatter of Flo, Cynthia-Rose, and Jessica, very much disrupting Beca’s previously-quiet study spot.

Chloe always has the most perfectly imperfect timing. Beca kind of hates her for it.

Kind of.

(It's too easy to just not hate anything Chloe does. Quite the opposite, really.)

* * * * *

Things spiral very quickly in the next hour or so. Jessica and Ashley’s study session is cancelled. Amy and Bumper break up (again). Flo’s night class is cancelled.

“What the fuck,” Beca hisses, cornering Chloe in her ensuite bathroom when she sees Chloe slip in. She shuts the door behind her. “Did you hear all of that? All their crap being cancelled or whatever?”

Chloe pouts at her in the mirror, rinsing her hands under the faucet. “I know.”

Beca grumbles to herself, still thinking of the kiss Chloe had given her just over an hour ago. It had barely been enough to tide her over until the next time she and Chloe manage to wrangle away some time alone.

“You’re so cute when you don’t get your way,” Chloe says happily. She turns, moving to push Beca against the opposite wall. “We’re alone now,” she whispers, suddenly so close to Beca that Beca can count every slight freckle across Chloe’s nose.

“I’m not…” Beca gives up trying to deny anything Chloe says. It’s something she has learned over time. Slowly, she grins, lifting her hands to grab Chloe’s hips and pull her closer so they’re pressed together more intimately. “Hey, look at us…”

“Look at us,” Chloe repeats. She tilts her head forward, nipping sharply at Beca’s lower lip before pausing as if to see if Beca is willing.

Beca tugs at her hips again, leaning towards Chloe’s face again to request another kiss—another firm press of Chloe’s lips against hers. Chloe must have reapplied her lipgloss in the past hour because she tastes sweet again—sweeter than usual—and irresistible as usual. Ever since they began fooling around—ever since their first kiss—Beca has craved more and more of Chloe’s kisses. There is something very intoxicating about the way Chloe kisses her. Chloe’s kisses are simultaneously a gentle caress and a heated embrace all at once.

Chloe’s hand creeps up the back of Beca’s shirt, deftly unhooking her bra when she reaches it, then swiftly, her hand moves around to cup Beca’s breast boldly, slipping under the fabric of the bra. Beca gasps against Chloe’s mouth, only to feel Chloe’s tongue against her lower lip for the briefest of moments before it slips inside her mouth. Chloe’s hand flexes around her breast, palm pressing against her stiff nipple.

“Please,” Beca rasps, tilting her head back against the wall. “I need you.”

“I know,” Chloe coos. She lifts her free hand—the one not actively groping Beca—to grasp Beca’s jaw firmly, but gently. She pulls Beca’s head back towards her own, breath hot against Beca’s mouth as she does so. “How much do you need me right now, Bec?” She says it so conversationally that Beca thinks they really could be talking about a Bellas set or the weather. She says it as if her fingers aren’t currently plucking at her nipple sinfully and her hand isn’t holding Beca’s jaw in place like she knows exactly what devastation she wants to inflict upon Beca at that moment.

“So much,” Beca replies obediently. She shifts, her legs still pressed together uncomfortably. She doesn’t need to check—she knows she’s soaked and ready to go. If she could just—if Chloe could just slip one of her legs between her own…

Chloe brushes her thumb against Beca’s lower lip, eyes darkening when Beca’s tongue flicks out to lick Chloe’s thumb, welcoming her thumb into her mouth. Beca tries not to close her eyes entirely, but the haze of arousal and lust that pass over her overwhelms her for a moment then Chloe’s thumb slips into her mouth entirely.

“You’re so desperate,” Chloe murmurs.

Beca wonders, briefly, what the other Bellas would say if they knew exactly what their co-captains got up to in their free time. If they knew that Chloe knew exactly which buttons to press to make Beca scream. If they knew that Beca knew Chloe’s body intimately and incredibly well—that she had memorized marks on Chloe’s on body more than she had memorized choreography.

“You’ve been teasing me all week,” Beca mumbles. Chloe draws her hand away, eyes lighting in sympathy. It looks real to Beca, but she knows how much Chloe gets off on prolonging Beca’s pleasure. Evil.

“I guess I have. You’re just so—”

“—If you say cute, I will throw myself out the window.”

Chloe smirks, one definitely stolen from Beca’s handbook. “I was going to say…” she trials a finger down Beca’s neck, down her chest, all the way to the button of Beca’s jeans. She pops the button slowly. “Sexy.” Zipper down. Music to Beca’s ears. “Hot.”

“Okay,” Beca agrees, forgetting that she had just been mildly annoyed. Her eyes nearly cross when Chloe pulls down her jeans and underwear in one move and push her legs apart.

“You’re soaked,” Chloe says sympathetically. She flicks out her tongue to swipe some of the wetness streaked between Beca’s thighs. Then again, flicking against Beca’s clit.

“Shh,” Beca urges, hand tangling against Chloe’s hair. She groans, looking down at the top of Chloe’s head as Chloe, to the best of her ability, begins licking and sucking around her aching center. She only grows wetter at the distinct sound of Chloe clearly enjoying herself through quiet moans and whimpers. The very slight sounds travel through Beca distinctly, shooting through her with an intensity she hadn’t imagined before.

“You be quiet,” Chloe instructs, lifting her head briefly.

“Yeah,” Beca agrees, in a normal tone. “Yes,” she moans, uncaring as Chloe lifts one leg over her shoulder to have better access.

Chloe’s hand comes up to smack the side of her thigh. “Beca,” she warns. She glances up again and the sight sends desire rocking through Beca again as she catches the slight glistening across Chloe’s lips and chin.

“Yeah,” Beca croaks. “Sorry, I’ll—” She gasps, a high-pitched sound, when Chloe’s lips wrap around her clit again. She claps a hand over her mouth, head tilting back and hitting the wall again. She can’t feel much other than the press of Chloe’s lips and tongue against her aching cunt. Can’t feel much other than each pass of Chloe’s tongue against her. Can’t feel much other than how she throbs and aches and wants to draw Chloe all the way inside her.

But she can come like this, she tells herself. She can. She will. She hasn’t gotten off in over a week, a difficult feat now that she relies almost entirely on Chloe for her pleasure. Her own hands don’t compare to Chloe’s hands. Or Chloe’s tongue. Or her lips.

A strangled sound escapes Beca’s lips just as she’s on the cusp of the high she desperately seeks. Chloe’s hand creeps across her thigh, as if Chloe is about to bring her hands into the fray. Her fingers. “Yes,” Beca whispers. “Please, please—”

She crashes. Or wait. She doesn’t. She can’t.

The door—there is somebody at the door.

“Hey! I really need to go and the other bathrooms are being used! Are you almost done, Chloe?”

“Fuck,” Beca says loudly. Chloe slaps a hand over her mouth.

“Beca?” Amy’s confused voice sounds through the door. “This is Chloe’s bathroom.”

Chloe scrambles up and away from Beca, swiping the back of her hand against her mouth hastily. “Um…” Her eyes widen, panicked and unsure. “I was just, um. Helping Beca with this…”

Beca quickly pulls up her jeans, wincing at how uncomfortably wet she feels. But that isn’t even the worst part. It’s how dissatisfied she is. How she feels like she’s been literally robbed of what she deserves. Fucking Amy.

“Fuck,” Beca mutters. Raising her voice, she clears her throat. “She was just helping me with this thing...on my back,” she trails off, shrugging at Chloe’s wide-eyed expression. I’m sorry, Chloe mouths.

Chloe hastily moves to wash her hands again as Beca, now presentable, unlocks the door. Amy rushes past them, making a beeline for the toilet. “Thank God!” Amy exclaims, clearly uncaring that both Beca and Chloe are still there.

“Dude, what the fuck! Wait for us to leave!”

“As if you haven’t seen it all before, dear roommate.”

* * * * *

This was supposed to be easy.

Beca tries not to pout—she really does—but Chloe has riled her up over the past two days now and they still haven’t managed to find time alone. When she and Chloe agreed to this whole friends with benefits thing, Beca hadn’t thought there would be so much waiting. She had kind of assumed that whenever either of them needed to scratch their itch, the other would be there (barring personal reasons or timing, obviously), but this is kind of getting ridiculous.

Chloe is holed up in her room, working on a paper. She had effectively banned Beca from her room, citing the need to focus, and had sent Beca to spend time with somebody else, as if Beca was nothing more than a mere child in Chloe’s periphery.

“Chloe kick you out?” Cynthia-Rose asks sagely.

Beca startles, having been too busy staring angrily at the wall behind the television to notice that somebody had sat next to her on the couch. “No, why would she kick me out? I didn’t even see her today. Why? Did she say something to you?”

“She kicked me out too,” C-R says slowly, peering suspiciously at Beca’s face. “Just thought you guys were supposed to be working on our set or something today. But she said she had a paper due.”

“Oh,” Beca murmurs. “Well. Yeah...that’s what happened. Totally.”

“Want to watch a movie?”

Beca shrugs, having given up her hatred of movies a while ago (part of it due to Chloe’s influence and the pleasant activities that usually followed a private movie session in Chloe’s room). “Whatever you want to watch is cool.”

She ends up fiddling with her phone and half-focusing on the movie. To distract herself from the very distinct lack of sex she’s been having, she begins brainstorming songs to mash-up for an upcoming Bellas appearance and performance. If she and Chloe were supposed to be working together on something, she might as well figure out something so it seems like they haven’t just been fucking around.

To save face and all.

Ding!

Beca frowns, seeing a notification come in across the top of her screen. It is an image attachment from Chloe. Without looking at the image preview, Beca taps into the message lazily, wondering what Chloe could possibly say to her after leaving her high and dry.

Beca chokes on air, eyes widening upon seeing the very explicit nude she has just received from Chloe herself. Nothing left to the imagination.

Chloe Beale come here

Right. Okay. Fuck you too, Chloe Beale.

Beca tosses her phone on the couch and all but gets ready to sprint to Chloe’s bedroom. She doubles back however, grabbing her phone, realizing belatedly that maybe the photo isn’t necessarily something that anybody (Amy) needs to find accidentally.

“Fuck,” Beca mutters, nearly tripping up the stairs as she goes. Chloe is only on the second floor, but she has her own separate landing from the other girls, her own private room. Perks of being a super senior. She sheds the hoodie she had been wearing, haphazardly tossing it into a random hamper she passes on the way. She can do her part in speeding up the process.

She is about to shed her shirt entirely when she stumbles, yelping and she tumbles headfirst, slamming her head against the railing and nearly falling back down the stairs.

She drops her phone down the stairs as she does so, cursing all the while as pain rushes through her. Immediately, the sound of footsteps sound from all around her and voices call out, concerned and panicked all at once.

“Beca!” Chloe exclaims, first one on the scene. “Shit, are you okay?”

“Holy crap, what happened?” Flo asks. “Why is your shirt half-off?”

Gentle hands tug her shirt into place. Beca blinks up at the concerned, blurry expressions all around her.

“She should go to the ER,” Cynthia-Rose says, but Beca catches a hint of laughter in her voice. “Whatever she got on her phone sent her running. But clearly she needs to be more careful.”

“I’ll take her to the hospital,” Chloe chimes in. “Stacie? Go get Beca’s phone and her wallet. The rest of you wait in the living room with her while I go get dressed.”

“No,” Beca moans out before she can stop herself. “I’m fine,” she whines. “Get off me.”

“She hit her head,” Chloe says quickly. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying. We’ll probably come back late tonight. I don’t know how long this will take.”

“Maybe all night,” Amy suggests helpfully. “We’ll keep an eye on her, captain.”

“Yeah we should probably cycle shifts when they get back...she could have a concussion.”

“Have you ever had a concussion before?”

“Beca, what is your sweater doing in my hamper?”

Beca groans as the Bellas help her down the stairs.

She is never going to have sex again at this rate.

Still.

Her eyes lift as Chloe appears in front of her again, concern written all over her face. She smiles, a tender and kind expression, at Beca before holding out her hand for Beca to take. “Come on,” Chloe whispers.

Maybe this whole part—being cared for by another person—it really isn’t so bad.

fin.

[johnny-and-dora]

sunny one so true, i love you

as a long, hot summer draws to a close, jake is determined to make sure mac has the best first beach trip a toddler has ever experienced. (written for @undead-thot-hours as part of the b99 summer 2020 fic exchange, i hope you like it!) @b99fandomevents

read on ao3 -

Ideally, living in Brooklyn in the middle of the summer would be perfect. There’d be some kind of ice coffee river Willy Wonka stylez that Jake could wade into, functioning air conditioning on demand and plenty of opportunities for him to up his sunglasses game and practise some cool new moves to impress the squad.

In reality, it costs like $12 for one tiny cup of iced coffee, and the air conditioning at the precinct is constantly on the fritz. He can’t even practise any cool sunglasses moves because one of Mac’s current favourite pastimes is taking either of his parent’s eyewear and lovingly slobbering all over it. It’s kind of a bummer - but also, like everything his son does, extremely cute, so Jake doesn’t really mind. The great picture he got of Mac wearing his sunglasses makes it worth it.

It’s been a long, long summer filled with paperwork and overtime instead of getting to hang out with his beautiful family all the time, which is the real bummer. So, when Amy suggested they take advantage of their shared Sunday off to take Mac to Brighton Beach for the first time, he’d responded with trademark enthusiasm.

Which was then later followed by abject panic, because Jake kinda sorta forgot that he’s not the beaches biggest fan.

It’s not like he’s some kind of beach hater, because that’s like hating summer or holidays or fun and Jake loves all of those things. It’s just that his lasting childhood memories of the beach are less than rosy. They mostly include him getting super sunburnt, dropping his ice-cream in the sand, or getting buried alive by Gina. None of them make him feel particularly good, and he doesn’t particularly want to pass that not-good feeling down to his son by ruining Mac’s first beach experience.

So many things could go wrong. What if a seagull steals his food, or his ball gets lost at sea? What if his favourite toy gets all sandy and ruined? What if a seagull steals him, and Jake’s powerless to do anything but watch?

To cut a long week of worrying about increasingly improbable scenarios short, this beach trip has to go well. In fact, Jake’s general brain weirdness and a strong desire to be a good dad means this needs to be the best beach trip a toddler has ever experienced in the history of beach trips. It’s the least he can do for Mac.

So, he invites Charles and Nikolaj along and buys Mac a cute little bucket and spade and the four of them build a really epic sandcastle while Amy gets a rare chance to peacefully catch up on some reading. They paddle in the sea a little, Mac clinging to Jake the whole time because the water’s so cold, and Jake snaps a photo of the three of them with ice cream that is definitely lockscreen worthy. Charles even takes the kids for a bit so Jake and Amy can have some precious alone time soaking in the sun.

It may not be perfect – Mac gets very upset when he can’t see any dolphins (which Jake would be disappointed by too, to be honest) and somehow he gets sand absolutely everywhere which he’s definitely going to traipse back into the apartment. But he seems happy, and Amy is happy, and that means that Jake is happy too.

“Did you have fun today, Mac?” Amy asks, wrapping him up tight in his beach towel and trying to brush some of the sand out of his hair. Their little boy nods enthusiastically, his curls bouncing everywhere as he climbs up on to Jake’s lap.

“This is the best day ever!” He says, slightly muffled as he sticks his thumb in his mouth, and Jake’s heart swells. Mission accomplished. He looks to Amy, who’s hair is even shiner than usual as she’s bathed in sunlight, her pretty sundress flapping around her legs. She gets more and more beautiful every single day.

“Hey, Ames, you look like a mermaid.” He says, grinning fondly at his wife. He gently pokes Mac to get his attention. “Doesn’t mommy look like a beautiful mermaid, Mac? Like she could be queen of the seahorses or something cool like that.”

“I know about seahorses!” Mac pipes up, which wasn’t exactly what he was going for but endearing, nonetheless. Camilla and Victor gifted him a book about animals for Christmas last year and he’s been parroting random trivia from it for months, as if they needed more proof that he’s half-Santiago. “They live in the sea and they’re not even horses, they’re fish.” He says matter-of-factly, wriggling in Jake’s lap.

“That’s right, baby.” Amy says warmly, gently stroking his curls and grinning at Jake when their eyes meet. Their kid is going to be the most insufferable know-it-all in his class, and they’re already so proud of him.

“Hey bud, did you see any seahorses in the sea?” Jake asks (He knows it’s unlikely, but it would be super awesome). Mac shakes his head. His face falls for a second and Jake worries that he’s going to have to go on some impossible heroic seahorse quest before his eyes light up again.

“Uncle Charles and Niko caught a crab though! It was all pinchy and angry!”

“Cool, like Sebastian?” Mac nods fervently and Jake grins, humming a few notes of ‘Under The Sea’. He makes a mental note to put The Little Mermaid on as soon as they get home – it’s on theme, has a great soundtrack and won’t make any of them cry too hard, which is a win in Jake’s book.

Mac is squirming in his lap again, so Jake lets him down. It warms his heart watching his son totter about on the sand wrapped in an R2-D2 beach towel, singing ‘Under The Sea’ to himself (except really, he’s just babbling the chorus over and over again). God, he loves this kid. His dad Spidey-senses kick in when Mac bends down to pick up a pebble, though, knowing it’s probably going directly into his mouth, so he racks his brain for cool seahorse facts to try and distract him.

“Hey Mac, did you know that it’s actually the daddy seahorses that carry the babies around in their tummies?”

“No way!” Mac says, the pebble instantly forgotten, and Jake knows he will never get tired of watching his son learn new things about the world every single day.

“Uh-huh.” Jake nods, and for effect, grabs a nearby beachball and stuffs it under his T-shirt while Mac laughs. “What do you think, little man? Would I make a good seahorse?”

Mac shakes his head, grinning toothily. “That’s silly, daddy.”

Jake smiles proudly – he may be pretty proud of his many accomplishments as a highly decorated detective, but nothing makes him feel prouder than when he makes the most important, treasured people in his life laugh. “Yeah? Well, I am pretty silly. That’s like, the thing I’m totally best at and have won a lot of silly awards for.”

“And blanket forts! And storytime! You’re the best daddy!” Mac says, running up to present the pebble to him, and Jake gets a little misty. He can see Charles also getting misty out of the corner of his eye, but that’s actually pretty toned down by his standards. He accepts the pebble and bends down to pick Mac up and spin him around, the two of them laughing, and knows he has nothing to be worried about. Not even the world’s biggest seagull could swoop in and ruin this day.

Jake may be a just a little sunburnt, and his grand dreams of an iced coffee river may be unfortunately impossible to fulfil. But he’s here, with his gorgeous, amazing wife and their equally amazing son, and has to admit the beach isn’t so bad. As long as he has his family beside him, any summer in Brooklyn seems pretty much perfect.

[childofaura]

I guess I’m just gonna be filled with bad takes this December but I’m putting out one more while I work on my Sonic Forces comic:

I get kind of bugged about the fact that a lot of the Sonic characters are moving away from their original core personalities, and not in a “the character is growing” sort of way like Shadow when he hit peak character writing in 06 (Yes I said it, I’ll write an essay on why 06 was Shadow’s highest point as a character). But more in a “These characters are slowly losing the aspects of their personality that defines them, either by the franchise writing their characters to fill roles that don’t show those traits or sometimes by well-meaning fans.” I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been around (kind of) long enough to know how the characters were or if I’m just slowly becoming grouchy about it, but let me start:

1. Knuckles. Knuckles is starting to slip from his “rough and tumble and ready to fight” personality. Most of the portrayals I’ve seen from him are starting to slip more into the “cocky overconfident butt-of-the-joke” scenes, or in the case of Forces where he had absolutely no personality at all. Knuckles is supposed to be confident, yeah, but he’s also ASSURED in his might. The most cocky he’s gonna get is when he knows he can take a good swing at someone or something. And he’s stubborn.

2. Silver. For some of the most part, Silver’s thankfully stayed kind of the same, but he too is tripping into OOC portrayals (like that awful line in  Forces “I’m an optimist but I’m also a realist”. I swear that line was written by someone who read a summarized bio of Silver and said “Okay I think I’ve got this”). A lot of the time I’ve seen him get put into the “anxious nervous baby uwu” camp, though mainly that’s been from a few comic panels and the fandom that I’ve seen (and honestly I haven’t read enough of the comics so I’ll be happy if I get proved wrong); everyone forgets that Silver’s anxiety wasn’t in the form of “literal baby” but more “I’m so fucking sick of seeing everything in my life get destroyed” to where he has bursts of temper. His intro in 06 shows him floating through Soleanna and when he sees an Iblis flare, he very angrily backhands it psychokinetically. I’ll grant that Forces gave us a brief moment of Silver’s true personality when he rushes into a fight against Infinite (that should have lasted WAY longer and the fact that they crippled my boy’s power level for that scene still peeves me), but that was it.

3. Tails. Not a whole lot to say on this one but this kid is slowly losing his bravery.

4. Amy. Surprisingly, this one actually irritates me the most. For some reason, everyone loves changing Amy the most despite the fact that she hits a very nice medium of personality with her character that most people don’t realize. People don’t allow Amy to be cutesy anymore, and almost every time I’ve seen someone re-draw her or whatever, they aggressively squash out her crush on Sonic and they say, “Well now she’s gonna be more INDEPENDENT and HEAD-STRONG!”

NEWSFLASH.

AMY WAS ALWAYS INDEPENDENT AND HEADSTRONG. YOU GUYS DON’T LIKE HER BECAUSE SHE’S A CUTE FEMININE GIRL WHO DREAMS ABOUT LOVE.

In Sonic Heroes, she rallies up Cream and Big to go save Chocola and Froggy while also wanting to look for Sonic, taking the role of leader in Team ROSE. In Sonic 06, she manages to break into Eggman’s base somehow by accident without being detected and singlehandedly rescues Elise. She also apologizes to Silver and promises to help him find who he’s looking for, and she throws herself in harm’s way to help Sonic. In Riders Zero Gravity, she gets Storm under her boot just by being intimidating. A twelve year old girl!

Let her be head over heels for Sonic. Let her be a cutesy girl who ends up being the damsel in distress sometimes (because a good chunk of the time she also saves herself and scares the shit out of whoever treats her badly). Let her be that compassionate “I pray for peace” character she always was.

And honestly that covers MOST of the characters I’ve had issues with (There’s also Team Chaotix, but the one who gets the shit end of the stick the most is my man Vector). There’s some characters like Shadow, Blaze, Omega, Rouge (Though she’s kind of slipping too), Cream etc, who are staying relatively true to their characters but they’re also kind of slowly being lost.

[amydancepants-peralta]

you remind me (just how good it can get)

aka, my response to @rosalitadiazz‘s prompt for #58 - “Here, take my blanket/jacket”.  It’s just a sweet little moment that popped into my head, but I hope you enjoy! 💕

you remind me (just how good it can get)

Waving into the camera, Amy blows another set of kisses towards the video image of her son as Karen lifts his tiny (and adorably chubby, honestly she just wants to bite it!) arm out in a miniature wave.  From behind her she hears Jake call out that he loves them both, and she echoes the sentiment while Jake wraps one arm around her waist, pulling her closer until her back rests against his chest.  Together, they bid their son goodnight, and with one last wave Karen disconnects the call, the image of their little boy quickly replaced by the photo of the three of them leaving the hospital that takes pride of place on Amy’s screen.  

Thanks to some diligent saving (and being under the command of a forward-thinking captain like Holt), Amy had been able to take the last few months off on maternity leave.  In just three days she would be heading back to work, and while the FOMOW part of her was dying to button up her uniform again, there was a larger part of Amy that was just not ready to say goodbye to her little Leo for anything more than an hour or two. 

Tonight had been a trial run, with Jake’s mom Karen volunteering to stay and babysit while he and Amy head out for a long overdue date night.  It had felt kind of wonderful, to do her hair and makeup and blush when she notices her husband’s appreciative glances as he passes her in their bedroom.  Seemed like forever since she’d felt his hand brush against the small of her back as she walked into a restaurant, or had brushed her feet playfully against his underneath the table.  

The last phone call was only their third for the entire night - an admirable feat, considering both of them had nearly asked the other to turn around and head back home mere minutes after closing their apartment door (and maybe once more after their taxi pulled away from the curb).  It had helped greatly that Karen had sent them hourly updates - a series of photos that only seemed to increase in cuteness the later into the evening they got - and after paying the bill Jake had gripped Amy’s hand in his, leading her out of the restaurant and suggesting one last call home before it got too late.  

And now their son was about to go to sleep, and she wasn’t there to smother his face with kisses, and Amy felt like her heart was stretched across the boroughs of Brooklyn right now.  

Running his hands up and down her shoulders, Jake brushes a kiss along Amy’s hairline, and with a sigh she tucks her phone back into her purse.  “C’mon, there’s a gelato place up here that I’ve heard has a really good choc fudge.”

“Hold on, I just need ..” she pauses, turning towards Jake and waiting he’s facing her before wrapping her arms around his waist, holding herself tightly to him as she rests her head against his chest.  The back of her hands skim against the soft, familiar material of his jacket lining, and Amy closes her eyes as his arms envelop her body and the total Jakeness of his embrace calms her pining heart.  

He holds her as they stand together underneath the front awning that covered the restaurant’s expanse of windows, keeping his grip tight as Amy breathes in his cologne and sighs.  The bustle of the city around them fades away, the click of a group of women’s heels relegating only to gentle ticks as they pass them by, and she buries her head further in.

She feels the vibrations in Jake’s chest as he speaks, his tone only slightly betraying his concern.  “You okay, babe?”

Her cheek rustles against his shirt as she nods, the dark olive green button-down that has always been a favourite, and replies “I am now.”  Tipping her chin upwards, Amy smiles up at her husband when his eyes lock onto hers.  She hadn’t realised just how much she’d missed nights like this; whether it was gripping her husband’s arm as they walked down the street, or bathing in his smile from across the table as he talks.  “We need to do this more often.”

“We really do.”

“Let’s make a new rule.  One date night a month, minimum.  We’ll swap shifts and plan out babysitters … merge our schedules and make it happen.  Okay?”

Jake’s smile is warm, and his hands dip lower on her waist before sliding up towards her back, and it’s such a comforting feeling that Amy can feel herself begin to melt all over again.  “Are you asking me to go steady with you, Santiago?”

Amy grins, moving her head into an enthusiastic nod.  “But only for like … 70 years or so.”

“Noice.  Let’s make it an even hundred.”

“Deal.”  Her head falls back down to Jake’s chest, taking another deep breath in.  The simplicity of this moment - of being wrapped up in the arms of the man she loves while the world goes on around them - was exactly what she had been craving.  After months of next to no sleep and more nursery rhymes than she ever thought she’d know, it was nice to feel like a human being again.  

“What do you say we grab some dessert, take a walk around the city for a little while, and then head on home to our son?”  Jake mumbles, punctuating his sentence with another kiss into her hair.  

Our son.  Even with it now being a reality, the sound of those two words together still makes Amy beam.  She nods, tightening her grip before pulling back ever so slightly, resting her hands against Jake’s chest.  “So … our son.  A lot of change around here, huh?”

His laugh bounces off of Amy’s chest and settles straight into her heart, the same joyful feeling she got the first time he laughed at something she said hitting the same now just as it did then, and her own laughter bubbles out of her as he slows down, sliding his thumb along the edge of her cheek.  His eyes turn soft, drawing her in without any great effort, and it occurs to Amy that if their son ends up with his father’s eyes, she doesn’t stand a single chance.  

“I love you,”  Jake whispers, lowering his head to meet her halfway, pressing his lips against hers so sweetly that not for the first time Amy wonders how she ever survived without Jake’s kisses.  His hand - always so strong and steady - slides up the middle of her back, and Amy responds by wrapping her arms around his neck, hooking him in as their lips press harder together.  If only she could have told those two colleagues, in an evidence locker so long ago, just what kind of joy would be waiting for them both.  She’s not sure she would have believed it then, just as it seems almost surreal now.  

Their lips part, and as Jake rests his forehead against hers Amy replies, “I love you too, Jake.”

His hand slides along her arm as they pull away, gliding downwards until their palms meet and he tangles their fingers together so seamlessly it’s clear that’s where each of they belong, and Amy smiles at the thought as he leads them down the street.

Despite the long sleeves of her dress, the cool evening air hits her skin unannounced, and Amy shivers slightly.  Jake’s hand grips hers tighter in response before pulling away entirely, and just as she looks over in protest Amy notices that he’s already in the process of shedding a layer of clothing.  

“Here, take my jacket.”  He smiles, already covering her back with the leather before Amy can say another world.  The warmth of her husband’s touch washes over her, the scent of him lingering slightly as she grips the edges, running her thumbnail along the jagged teeth of the open zipper.

There’s a slight blush that begins to warm her cheeks, and Amy looks up at Jake with a grateful smile.  He’s always looking out for her, picking up on what she needs sometimes before it’s even occurred to herself, and she knows that Jake considers himself lucky to be with her, but truly; she is the lucky one.  

Jake breaks the silence with a tiny shrug, rubbing one hand along the back of his neck as he speaks.  “Would it be totally insane if I told you just how much I miss Leo right now?”

“Oh heck no.  I miss him so much it hurts.”

“He’s been so good with Mom.  He really is the best baby.”

“The best,” Amy agrees, craning her neck upwards to meet Jake halfway as he leans in for another kiss.  His jacket is draped over her shoulders, so she cannot reach out to grip Jake’s arm the way she’s done a thousand times before, but her hands sneak out from under the front and take a loose grip of his shirt, leaning in to whisper - “Why don’t we get our gelato to go and head on home … and maybe later, we can have our dessert.”

Jake’s eyebrows raise slightly as he reads between the lines, nodding quickly.  “Sounds good, excellent plan, let’s do that, cool cool cool.”

His left hand slides around her waist as they walk just that little bit faster towards the gelato shop, discussing the all-important topic of which flavours are superior to the others, and Amy cannot wait for a thousand more moments just like this.  For ice cream cones covered in sprinkles (for both Jake and their son); for walks in the park and play time on the swings … and with any luck, another chance to watch as a life begins to grow inside her.  

Life was amazing, when you surrounded yourself with the right people, and with Jake by her side Amy was beginning to discover just how good it can get.  

[ozma914]

The Highlights of the Junk Mail Folder. Or Is That Lowlights?

Somebody must have signed me up for something, because I've been getting a lot more junk e-mails lately. The disadvantage: I have to go through and make sure there aren't any legitimate communications among the junk. The advantage: I can make fun of them. Sometimes it can be a little difficult to tell the difference between the real stuff and the scams. For instance, in the last batch I got a notification from Google Drive, which informed me a file had been successfully shared. Yay! But wait ... I've never shared Google Drive files.

Pay no attention to the scam behind the e-mail.

That could be a clue. And sure enough, the return e-mail address has absolutely nothing to do with Google. Another example is the survey I got from Netflix, which wants me to fill it out and enter a drawing. Yay! But I don't subscribe the Netflix, and never have. Of the 27 e-mails in the latest haul, exactly one was legitimate. And that one was from AARP, wanting to remind me I'm now old enough to get e-mails from AARP. I don't want the reminder. Some of the e-mails look pretty boring at first glance. They're from Amy P., Julie L.,. Natalie, Kathleen, Stacy, Betsy, Kristina, and of course my favorite, Eleanor Gibbs. I just realized ... I should keep track of the ones that could make good character names for future novels. Eleanor Gibbs, Beverly Bailey, not to mention Vanda. How many Vandas do you know? And they're all women. Where were all these women when I was single? Of course, chances are they're a 55 year old Russion male who hasn't exercised since 1997, but hope springs eternal.

Hi, I'm Uri ... I mean, Amy. How about a chat?

They get more interesting when you see what the "women" have typed into the subject field of their e-mails. "No questions or stories, just make me obey." Yes, dear. "I have crzy wishes." I wish you could spell. "I'm agile but fraagile so be nice ;0" Brittle bone disease is a terrible thing for gymnasts. "It was the best night ever!" Sadly, I wasn't there. "Video with me and you" So, you were the one who photobombed me at Indiana Beach. "Are you excited?" Do you have chocolate? "Should I send one more photo?" Well, you haven't sent the first one yet, so ... (That one was from "Iowa". The entire state apparently thinks it sent me a photo.) "Can I be useful for you? Pleeease!" Okay, since you're so eager. We'll start in the bedroom ... then you can clean the kitchen. "Are you excited?" What, still? Now that someone else is cleaning the kitchen, yes. "No panties video" Sounds great, until you remember it was typed by a middle aged Russian couch potato. "I am so disobedient at this video..." That's okay, I can point you to the obedience school my dog went at. Meanwhile, I also got e-mails from Flawless, PerfectLips, ColorfulDes'lres, Hedon1stlc, and, yes, CornLover. That last one, at least, was original. Cream or whole kernel? By the way, Eleanor Gibbs sent me an e-mail with the headline, "I love to play with fire". This is not something firefighters generally want to hear. Finally, the unoriginal ColorfulDes'lres also asked: "Are you excited?" Well, I just wasted ten minutes that could have been used for writing fiction. Or looking at cute puppy videos. So no ... no, I'm not. But it's starting to remind me of the other question I've been hearing a lot lately: "Have you tested positive for COVID?" I'm excited to say no.

Honey, look at this! A Nigerian Price wants to party with us.

http://markrhunter.com/ https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

[amyscascadingtabs]

let’s write a story, be in my book

i wrote a waterpark fic for you all hope you enjoy this little piece of nonsense fluff xoxo

read on ao3

Amy has to admit she loves the waterpark.

Whatever misunderstandings about major viewpoints in life it took for them to make their way here, she's secretly happy they did; her husband’s goofy smile the moment they drive into the parking lot strengthens her faith that she made the right decision. In going to the waterpark, for one, but also in marrying the one man who somehow can make a vacation among overpriced ice cream and unhygienic waterslides feel nearly as dreamy as their honeymoon.

It's been too long since she used the sleek red bathing suit she purchased over a year ago. From the way he looks at her when she steps out of the changing room - the way his cheeks flush and his eyes darken with desire for a second - she can tell he agrees. They may be at a park with kids and families everywhere, hardly at an appropriate location for sneaking away, but she promises him tonight with a whisper in his ear and he groans something inaudible into her shoulder which makes her laugh.

Laughing, to be fair, is a substantial part of their activities for the first of the two waterpark days they settled on. A year into their distracting, childish marriage, Amy’s finding it always seems to be. Day after day he makes her laugh; constantly for new reasons and rarely for ones she expects. They race against each other on the slides, and his puerile victory gesture the first time he wins makes her lose it so hard she forgets to move aside and is nearly knocked in the head by the unknown seven-year-old riding after her. They compete about who can hold their breath longest underwater, and she giggles at his gutted grimace when he loses. They get ice cream, hers salted caramel and his cookies and cream, and share frustrated laughs over how quickly it melts. They kiss with melted ice cream on their lips. They get back into the water once they’re ready, racing against each other in the swimming lanes this time, and she can’t help but chuckle when she wins for the third time in a row. Then, just as she thinks she has the upper hand in their childlike competing, he tickles her without warning and she’s in stitches again as she fails to get out of his grip.

She gets to spend the rest of her life with him. If the waterpark - and the years she’s known him preceding it - is any indication, and it’s true what they say about laughter prolonging your life, Amy’s harboring a growing suspicion that she might live forever.

There is, however, a significant difference in this vacation. It is one she understood was unavoidable after the emotional conversation at their anniversary celebration, but it still has her taken aback, making her wonder and worry at the same time.

Parents with young kids seem to be overrepresented at the waterpark. They're hanging out on the sunbeds, chasing wild toddlers around in the crowds and trying to stop them from falling, playing with buckets and foam toys in the kiddie pools. Jake looks at them for longer than he used to do, regarding first the kids and then how their parents act around them. He's using the same observant gaze as he would at a stakeout, but she thinks he's smiling. He seems to drift away in his head each time, and for once, Amy has a hard time reading him.

She always figured he wanted kids as much as she did, and interpreted his behavior around them and his enthusiastic responses to what she thought was luculent hints about it as clear-cut evidence of them being on the same page. Now she knows she was partially mistaken. Even though he eventually admitted to wanting them with her after a little bit of time, there’s a biting fear in her heart of him changing his mind, or god forbid, not meaning what he said in the first place. She trusts him wholeheartedly - but as well as she knows him, she still can’t read his thoughts or know for sure what he’s thinking.

They’re sat at the edge of one of the pools, dipping their feet and people-watching, when her curiosity gets the best of her.

A short distance away, a man about their age with dark blonde hair and grey swimming shorts is playing with a child Amy assumes to be his son. With luscious curls and an ecstatic grin as he’s being gently pushed around in a swimming ring with turtles on it, the kid is downright adorable, and she tears her eyes away for a moment only to notice the smile on Jake’s lips as he observes them.

“Hey.” She places a hand on his shoulder, warm from the sun, to draw his attention to her. “What are you thinking about?”

“Oh.” He blushes. “Doesn’t matter, it’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“Well, just - the future, I guess”, he confesses with a bashful look. “I had an idea.”

“I love your ideas”, she blurts out too fast. “Well, I mean, some of them. I’m still not one hundred percent convinced about your idea of building a Die Hard-inspired headboard which looks like Nakatomi Plaza for the bed.”

He gasps, feigning upsetness. “That was a great idea and I stand by it. But no, it wasn’t what I was thinking of.”

“What were you thinking of, then?”

“Traditions.”

“Traditions?” She frowns. “What do you mean, like holidays?”

“More like random ones. You know, I never really had proper ones with my family, but I was always jealous of the kids who did. So I thought…” Jake looks at the laughing toddler, then back at Amy. “Maybe this could be one of ours when we have kids? The waterpark. We could go every year, and it could be this family thing, and… I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “I told you it was silly.”

Of all the things he could have been thinking of, this didn’t cross her mind - yet it warms her heart, awakening the butterflies in her stomach when she’s reminded of the unsurpassed thought and reality of the love of her life wanting - at some point - to start a family with her. It doesn’t make her cry, but it’s not far from it, and if they weren’t surrounded by a sea of strangers she would do more than press a chaste but sweet kiss to his lips.

“I didn’t know you were thinking about what it’d be like. Us and kids.”

“I am now”, he tells her. “It’s kind of overwhelming, and a lot, but I like it.”

“Really?”

He nods. She dangles her feet, creating waves in the water. “I’m happy to hear that.”

“I still need a bit of time”, he reiterates. “A few more months at least. But I do want it with you, even if it scares me half to death. All these kids and families around here - they’re cute, you know?” She beams in agreement. “I know it’s cheesy, but looking at them and thinking about having that with you… it makes me want it, Ames, for real.”

She’s uncertain what to say, how to describe the exuberant happiness in her chest when he tells her this, so she hugs him instead. His skin is warmer than usual from the sun, making him even more the personal heater he already is to her, and she never wants to let go.

“That makes me so happy”, she whispers in his ear before retreating, still making eye contact as she delivers her promise. “And yes. We can go to the waterpark every year.”

His face lights up. “For realz?”

“Maybe not if we have a newborn”, she laughs, “but after that, yes. Let's make it a tradition.”

“It's already my favorite one.”

This time, he kisses her - a little longer than she'd call ideal considering their audience, but she's not complaining - soft but with some purpose, interrupted first when one of the kids on the other edge of the pool spots them.

“Mommy! Those people are kissing!”

[froggisarethebest]

The Garden Gang  Chapter One: Topper Toad and Caterpillar

Amy hates maths in the same way she hates stupid things such as babies. In her professional opinion, they’re both annoying, useless, stupid, a waste of time, and make her wanna punch something, like a crying infant.

It is true that everyone hates what they’re not good at, and Amy sucks at math. Everything started in grade six, when she realised numbers and letters don’t go along together and make no sense. She loves facts, yet she can’t seem to comprehend what other people would call “easy-peasy-lemon-squeasy”. And by other people, Amy means Toby because no one is lame enough to say, “easy-peasy-lemon-squeasy” and make it not seem obnoxious and cringe. 

As for babies, Amy just hates the smell of them, and the sound of them, the feeling of the word baby on her mouth when she says it, and the disgusting sensation of being puked all over by your unwanted fat three-months-old baby brother. Well, not that Toby was still a baby, even though he still acted like one, now he was just as annoying as any other ten-year old who thinks it’s popular to say the word “bruh” at the end of every single fucking sentence. 

There’s an entire list of things Amy hates about Toby, and number three is that he’s really good at maths whereas Amy is still stuck in Pythagoras. Not that she’s stuck in it, but she never got past that level of difficulty.

So it comes as a surprise to Amy when she realizes math is her actual favourite class. Let’s start with the fact that it’s located next to the school’s greens, which means it doesn’t smell like juul and boys deodorant, unlike bio class. Also, her class is tolerable, with 5 of her close friends in it as well as people she actually likes, with the exception of Samuel and Cate, who are actually not that bad once they’ve been separated from their popular friend group and are left alone with the other 89% percent of the grade that is not popular, leaving them alone and looking, rather, pathetic. Amy finds it hilarious. 

But of course the best part of math class is the seating arrangement. Usually she would find them annoying and stupid, but this particular one got her to sit with the best new girl Amy has met. Liza and her cinnamon-lavander-like scent. A scent Amy has found to be very appealing on the last three weeks of class.

Liza with her long dark chocolate hair and soft chocolate skin and deep wide round chocolate eyes.

Yes, Amy has definitely gotten a lot into chocolate in the last weeks. Especially the one that smiles and draws cute doodles of frogs on her math notebook and has the most beautiful laugh Amy has ever heard.

Amy remembers the first time she heard that laugh.

Fifteen minutes into her first math class of the semester, right after Amy had solemnly sworn to herself she would never be happy again after this block, since so far she had gotten every single warm up problem wrong.

“This is it. I give up on math and it’s pointlessness,” Amy had said to no one in particular as she let her rainbow pencil fall and she leaned back against her chair.

“Do you need help?” Liza has asked. 

They haven’t talked that much during those first minutes of class expect for the awkward “Hello, where are you from” conversation. 

Liza’s hair had been tied up on a messy ponytail, with a few strands coming undone in the front. Her round glasses had been falling down her nose, and she was hesitantly smiling towards Amy’s notebook.

“I don’t think there’s much left to do,” Amy had said as she drew a sad face next to the wrong answer on her notebook. "The one brain cell that survived this summer is now dead and there’s nothing left to do except eat ice cream and binge watch Queer Eye.”

Liza had laughed at that. Dimples.

Even then Amy had noticed how the dimples only showed when she really smiled or laughed, not like when she had nicely smiled and introduced herself. Liza’s dimples were the second most adorable thing Amy had seen in her life, only second to Liza’s frog doodles.

Amy had had to drop her pencil and then almost fall down her chair while reaching for it so Liza wouldn’t see how red she had gotten.

Not even after three weeks, had Amy gotten used to it, so each time Liza laughed Amy had to look away or lower her head so Liza wouldn’t see the blush spreading on her face.

Like right now. Liza was laughing because Amy wrote a 2 instead of a 234, which was, as always, the incorrect answer.

“I just don’t get it,” Liza was saying as she tried to stop laughing. Dimplesdimplesdimplesdimples. “How in heaven’s sake do you get a two?” 

“Do I look like I, out of all people, know what the fuck happened?” 

“ It’s not that hard,” she said as she drew another frog to the frog collection. 

“ I know, it’s just that i’m stupid and don’t get even the simplest of things,” Amy said as she tried and failed to draw a nice topper on Frog.

“You’re not stupid, math is just not your thing.”

“Clearly,” Amy said as she frowned at her failed attempt to give Frog a nice hat.

They were in silence for a couple of heartbeats. 

“ So,” Liza said to break the silence. “What’s your thing then? What are you into if it’s not math?”

Amy froze for a moment. Was it her brain just making everything sound gay, or was Liza actually asking what she was into?

“ I like playing the piano,” Amy answered instead.

“ Really? Dude that’s so cool.” 

Was I really just dude-zoned? 

“ It’s whatever. I also find soccer appealing.”

“ I mean,” Liza said as she solved another problem from the board. “ You can’t be the team co-captain and don’t like soccer.”

“ You know that?” Amy said, getting excited at the thought of Liza watching her be good at something. 

“ I’ve seen you during practice,” Liza said shyly.

AaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Amy smiled shyly too. 

“ You’ve been spying on me?”

She swore she saw Liza blush before she turned her head back to her notebook, letting the long waves of her brown her fall down over her shoulder. Amy was tempted to touch it and push it back behind her ear so she could see Liza’s face. 

Finally Liza answered. “ No, I was just waiting for my mom to pick me up and I saw you practicing.”

Amy elbowed Liza. “ Was I any good?”

“ You’re not bad,” Liza admitted as she scrunched her nose towards Amy.

“ That’s really nice of you to say.”

“ I know.”

Silence again.

“ Hey so,” Liza said again. She cleared her throat and kept her gaze firmly on her notebook. “ I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tomorrow, like maybe go shopping or something.” 

Oh my God. Hang out as in hang out, or hang out as in hang out?

[bechloe-are-acadorable]

Butterflies - Bechloe (Pt3)

Part 3/?

Beca woke up the next morning and blinked a few times before looking down at her waist where an arm was slung across her before glancing over to her chest where ginger hair covered what she knew was Chloe's beautiful face. Beca couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips as she gently moved the hair back to reveal Chloe's content sleeping face.

Beca had never had a best friend, not really anyway and well if this is what it felt like to have a best friend, well then, she really had missed out when she was a kid. She adored Chloe and would do anything for her, things that usually made Beca cringe like hugging or any form of physical contact really, she relished with Chloe.

Beca just couldn't wait to move into the Bella house- shit they were supposed to be getting the keys at 11:30 from the dean, what time was it? She grabbed her phone and saw that it was already 11:05. Shit! "Chlo" Beca called softly to wake her "Mmmm five more minutes" Chloe mumbled sleepily and snuggled even tighter into her best friend "Chlo its gone 11 o'clock" she told her but Chloe only grumbled in return "Remember we need to meet the dean at half 11 to get the keys for the Bella house" Beca had barely finished the sentence as Chloe shot up "Crap!" she mumbled as both of the co-captains got up and frantically started to get ready. "Take whatever clothes you want" Beca said as she quickly brushed her hair.

Ten minutes later and both girls were up and ready, Beca found it quite amusing seeing Chloe in her clothes, the two girls clearly having vastly different styles. She mentioned this to Chloe on their march up to the deans office "Yeah you dress gayer than me!" Chloe laughed "What do you mean?" Beca questioned "I mean come on for a straight girl you sure do dress gay, you confused my gaydar when we first met" Chloe laughed as they walked into the waiting room to see the rest of the Bellas already there.

"Chloe why are you wearing Beca's clothes? Did you two bone?" Fat Amy asked upon seeing the two approach "What no, Chloe slept at mine last night and borrowed some clothes, sorry were late guys we slept in" Beca replied "I sleep-murder sometimes..." Lily whispered as everyone looked over at her "Well I'm not rooming with her then" Cynthia Rose blurted out just as the secretary called the Bellas in.

"Okay here are your keys girls you know the rules, don't destroy the place okay?" The older man said as he passed the keys over to Chloe "Of course, may we say thank you again sir" Chloe said taking the keys off him "You can go now" he said and the Bellas all nodded and made their way out of the room. "Let's go to our new house!" Chloe squealed in excitement as the girls made their way to the Bella house. Once they had all looked at the house the discussion about the room situation came about, there were 5 rooms and currently 8 Bellas, although they were sure to pick up new members soon.

There was one room with a double bed, a room with three single beds, and three rooms with two single beds. "Shotgun the-" Fat Amy began but Beca cut her off quickly "We are not shotgunning rooms we will do it fairly, everyone write your name down and we'll draw someone out for the big room" Beca said before finding a pen, paper and a bowl. "CR you can pick a name out" Beca said as she picked the name out and opened it.

“Fucks sake, it's obviously Chloe" she grumbled as Chloe beamed "As for everyone else, we can pick roomies if you want? Shall we also leave the double for the new recruits?" Beca asked as everyone nodded "Shotgun Shawshank!" Fat Amy yelled as Beca smiled over to her, it felt nice to be wanted. Jessica and Ashley obviously chose each other which left CR, Stacie and Lily in a room together "She better not murder me in my sleep or I'm coming back to haunt you all" CR grumbled referring to Lily as the rest of the girls laughed.

The whole rest of the day was spent packing their stuff from their old rooms, carrying it across campus and unpacking it. Fat Amy went for a nap after she finished so Beca decided to wander downstairs from their attic room to see Chloe in her room. She knocked and was greeted with a bright sing-songy "Come in!" Beca smiled at the sound and entered Chloe's now semi-furnished room "Oh hey Becs!" she said engulfing her in a quick hug which made Beca once again unable to help herself from smiling. "Have you come to help?" She asks "Nah I came to watch you struggle" Beca said flopping onto Chloe's bed with a smirk "Fine, suit yourself" she replied pulling tongues at the younger girl. Beca stood back up and casually wandered around her room looking at the way she had decorated the place, it was all so... Chloe.

She wandered over to her desk to see a framed picture of the Bellas after the ICCA along with a neatly organised pens, highlighter, files books and folders. Beca flopped back onto the gingers bed and saw that she had another framed picture on her bedside table, it was of the two of them. It was a picture with the two of them back to back with matching hoodies and jeans, pulling silly faces, Beca instantly recognised the picture and the memory of the day came flooding back.

The shipment of costumes for the Bellas had arrived and these hoodies were part of it, not something that they had ordered but the girls decided to keep them anyway. They both wore them with jeans and did a mini photo before spending the day together discussing all things Bella related whilst enjoying a host of non- Bella related activities like bowling, eating at Chloe's favourite restaurant and getting ice cream on the beach. It had been a perfect day and both girls had loved it.

Beca grabbed the picture off the table "This is so cute Chlo, plus it was like the best day ever!" Chloe glanced over and her face split into her infamous beaming smile "I know right! If I'm ever feeling down, I look at that picture and it cheers me up" she confessed "You're so soppy" Beca teased but internally thought it was the cutest thing ever.

"Shut it short arse! Now are you going to help or am I going to have to kick you out?" Chloe questioned Beca who laughed in reply. "Help with what?" Beca asked looking around the almost complete room "Oh yeah" Chloe mused, "How about you help me make dinner for the Bellas?" She asked and fluttered her eyelashes at the brunette who couldn't resist it when Chloe did that "Fine but cooking dinner for 8 people is going to take us forever" she complained whilst following Chloe down the stairs. "Not with both of us and its only pasta now come on".

The two girls began to prep dinner like a well-oiled machine, with Chloe giving direction and Beca following them. Chloe instructed Beca to chop the onions whilst she stirred the sauce, soon after Beca began to cry and Chloe took a picture of her "I finally have a picture of Beca 'the badass' Mitchell crying!" the older girl crowed "You'd delete that if you knew what was good for you" Beca warned playfully as she began to chase the ginger around the kitchen who sprinted away giggling "Right that's it!" Beca yelped picking up a tomato "Last chance Beale!" she shrieked who shook her head defiantly, Beca took aim and sent a tomato hurtling at Chloe, it hit her square in the chest.

Chloe's mouth dropped open as she picked up her own tomato and launched it at Beca which hit her in the head. Beca ran at Chloe and playfully wrestled her to the floor grabbing chunks of tomato out of her hair and rubbing them on Chloe's face.

The two girls began laughing uncontrollably when a confused looking Stacey and Cynthia Rose entered the kitchen. "What the fuck is going on?" CR asked to which the girls laughed even more "I... we... tomatoes" was all Chloe could get out through her fit of laughter "Right, I'm leaving now" CR said "Good idea" Stacie agreed as they both turned and exited the room. After another five minutes the laughter finally subsided, both girls wiped tears of laughter away and stood up "That is the most I think I have ever laughed" Chloe choked out "Fuck me that was funny" Beca agreed before the girls finished cooking and called the Bellas down for tea.

The girls served the rest of the Bellas before sitting themselves down "So did you both get into a fistfight with a tomato or is there another reason for this?" Fat Amy said pointing to the two co-captains tomatoey-attire. The girls explained the story giggling throughout "Yeah I think that was one of those you had to be there moments because that wasn't funny" Fat Amy told the girls which just caused them to laugh again.

After the girls had all finished their food, Jessica and Ashley offered to wash up whilst Fat Amy grabbed Beca "Hey short stack, Bumper is coming over till like 9 so if you could make yourself scarce that'd be great" Beca rolled her eyes at her but agreed to see if she could chill with Chloe that night. "Of course you can! You don't need an excuse to hang out with me Becs!" Chloe trilled "Ugh I need to get a shower first, how the hell am I going to get this off?" Beca asked motioning to the tomato stains covering her body "I can come in the shower with you and show you" Chloe suggested, Beca's jaw went slack at the suggestion and she began to blush, Chloe winked "Gotcha!" she smirked "Now I'm going to use my shower first see you later" She giggled as she left for the bathroom. Beca sat on Chloe's bed and groaned, God why did Chloe make her feel like this? Friendships with girls are weird.

[heryellowcup]

I loooooooooove your fics, I check the recent Bechloe tag multiple times a day and I am so happy to find new fics and prompts. Have a great holiday!! Italy is beautiful. :) As for a prompt (if you like it), Chloe doesn't know how to sew clothes and her favorite piece (dress or shirt maybe) teared. She throws it out in feustration but Beca finds it and fixes it (maybe put on a cute patch or something?) and surprises Chloe. Then Chloe loves the shirt/dress even more. :D

thanks for the prompt! another short one (and late, too)! i could barely focus because i’m still so exhausted from the trip but i hope it’s okay anyways!💕

Chloe didn’t necessarily care about fashion in any way. Of course she always wanted to look somewhat presentable but except for a few favorite pieces of hers she didn’t really have any special attachments towards her clothes. One of those favorites was a bright blue summer dress with white stripes that she absolutely adored. Just like Beca adored seeing her in said dress whenever they went to the lake together during the summer, having ice cream and relaxing under the big tree that they had dubbed their own.

Beca, however, generally liked Chloe no matter what clothes she was wearing. The redhead could be dressed in the most hideous things and Beca would probably still think that she was the most beautiful woman on this planet. Though she, too, had to admit that Chloe’s cute, little summer dress looked more than just amazing on her friend.

And Chloe was wearing said dress that particular day as she rode her bike to the animal shelter nearby where she helped out a few times a week. Helping out meant cuddling puppies and squealing like a little child whenever they did something cute, but the people there appreciated her nonetheless. She was extremely happy that day, having helped her favorite dog to get adopted. The girl really couldn’t have been more proud and more content. That was until she gracefully jumped of her bike, a huge smile still on her lips that fell abruptly as soon as she heard it. Heard her dress tear after it had apparently been stuck in the bike somehow. She almost didn’t dare to look down but when she did she found that there was, indeed, a huge hole in what used to be her flawless dress.

She cursed a little under her breath, very unlike herself, but managed to keep calm. She was hopefully going to be able to fix it somehow, right? Chloe quickly made her way into the little apartment she shared with Beca and Amy and frantically tried to find everything she needed to fix the dress. She did find those things, luckily, though she had no idea where they came from and neither did she actually know how to do these things. Youtube and Google were going to help her for sure.

Or maybe they didn’t.

Chloe spent the next few hours in agony and frustration, desperately trying to save her dress which seemed impossible now. Luckily, Beca came home right before she was about to have a mental breakdown and hugged her tightly, something that immediately helped her calm down.

“What’s wrong, Chlo? You look like you’re about to cry. Did something happen?“ Beca asked worriedly and then sighed when she spotted the dress on the table as well as the hole in it.

Chloe, who had followed her gaze, just nodded and sighed as well. “It’s my favorite… got it from my mom. It reminds me of her and well,” she chuckled, “I also just happen to look great in it.”

“You sure do,” Beca grinned cheekily, her hand gently resting on Chloe’s back, drawing little patters with her fingers. “You didn’t manage to fix it then? I could have sworn you were good at stuff like that.”

Chloe simply huffed and strolled over to the fold out bed the two of them shared, letting herself fall down on it dramatically and making Beca chuckle before the brunette joined her. It was pretty late already and they soon both fell asleep in each other’s arms, just like they always did.

Chloe had to get up early for work the next morning while Beca had a well deserved free day after having worked overtime the days before that. Instead of relaxing and doing nothing, however, she got up relatively early and got to work on Chloe’s dress. She didn’t know how to sew, she really didn’t. And after a few hours of watching youtube videos and trying everything she could, she realized that she was perhaps even less talented at this than Chloe herself. But this was the redhead’s favorite dress, after all, which meant she was going to fix it or at least try everything to do so anyways.

Beca eventually, after hours of failing over and over again, realized that her last hope was a patch and so she immediately got ready and went to the next supermarket, chuckling softly to herself about how ridiculously in love she was. Never would she have ever done something like that for another person before.

The brunette was already asleep, sprawled out all over their bed like a little kitten, Chloe thought, when she got home that night. She smiled softly and thought about joining the other girl when her eyes suddenly caught her dress that was now hanging over a chair. She almost teared up when she realized that where there had been a hole before was now a patch that pictured a cute, smiling sun, matching her personality perfectly.

Chloe sighed, a bright smile on her lips and her heart full of love, as she hugged the dress to her chest. If it hadn’t been her favorite before, it definitely was now. Chloe could barely even believe that her best friend had done something like this for her and it warmed her heart even more when she realized that this was an exception. She was an exception. Because Beca wouldn’t have done anything like this for anyone else. And so she started peppering little kisses all over the brunette’s face, thanking her sleepy friend happily.

[jernal]

A Day in Inpatient Eating Disorder Treatment

It’s Monday, weekday 1/5 (unless you’re still new or untrustworthy because then you’re here all weekend too; no leave), breakfast is at 08:00 but we have to be in the lounge at 07:00 for bloodwork. I set my alarm for 06:30. I need this. My alarm starts quiet and gets louder but my brain jolts awake at the first tone; I’m so worried my roommate Miranda is growing to resent me and my alarm. I shower at night so I can get up and out quietly. I’m always tip-toeing. I’m tired though so it takes me a minute to peel myself off of my starchy hospital sheets. I didn’t sleep well because overnight every 20 minutes a nurse walks into our room with her iPhone flashlight on, shining it in our faces and whispering “checks” as if I might not know why she’s here. Sometimes I hold my eyes wide-open, staring, just to unnerve the night nurses. There were two Code-Whites last night too. Alarms and screaming. In Ottawa, the Regional Centre for the Treatment of Eating Disorders (AKA: your only option) is made up of just six beds on the locked general psych ward. Fourth floor, north wing. Code White, Four North. Code Blanc, Quatre Nord. So I get up and tip toe out of my room and into the half-lit hallway. I no longer care about how socially unacceptable it is to walk around a place full of people in my sleep clothes and bare feet. I’m wearing a purple nightgown with thin straps and a low open back; it’s cute. I walk to the nurses station and stand by the reinforced glass window waiting to be noticed by the clerk. It’s Bruno. He never fails to have a positive attitude and light sense of humour - it must not be easy to do in a place like this. He knows that I’m here to ask for my curling iron or straightener. I switch it up every morning. He waves it in front of the glass like a treat in front of a dog. I am the dog. I have no power. He means it as a joke though and I do appreciate him. I have to say please and thank you to him - he doesn’t tolerate my teenager attitude; I’m 24, but living in an environment where I have no rights and am at the mercy of a wide variety of older-adults has made my sass-control regress a bit. While I wait for Bruno there’s a man with long dreadlocks wearing a hospital gown, spinning circles and popping wheelies in a wheelchair close by. I usually avoid interacting with general psych patients but he talks to me a bit. He tells me he killed someone and he’s here until he can be assessed, then he’s probably going back to jail. He seems more sane than the majority of gen psych patients and I’ve never see him before so I talk to him till I have my curling iron. I have to return it once it’s cooled, I’m not allowed to have cords. 

I sneak into our bathroom and close the door before I turn on the light. I’m really concerned with people potentially hating me, letting a stream of blinding light escape from the bathroom would make me easily hate-able. I do my hair and then sit on my bed to do my makeup. Miranda is up by now and I can turn on a light. I take time to do my makeup and my hair, I pick out an outfit and I don’t outfit-repeat for as long as possible. This seems stupid but looking like myself is the one of the few things I have control over. I will not become a sweatpant-wearing, dirty hair, slipper-footed hospital patient. I’m here for a long time and I’m going to gain weight and struggle with that - I don’t need to struggle with feeling ugly and frumpy too. I apply my usual false lashes. 

It’s 06:50 now. The six of us have an unspoken arrangement when it comes to bloodwork: first come, first serve, first leave. The two smokers, Nate and Amy are usually first. We meet in one of the two lounges. There are a couple psych patients in there too. One is an old man in his hospital gown going hard on the elliptical in the corner. There’s just the one exercise machine, it’s pretty random and for some of us it’s very hard to ignore; we could risk being discharged on the spot for getting on that thing. The room otherwise has a TV encased in plexiglass on the wall, a variety of leatherish couches, chairs, some tables, two vending machines and a small shelving unit with mushy ancient puzzles and boardgames. None of them have all their pieces, that’s a guarantee. The nurse is 15 minutes late, pushing her cart in casually like we haven’t been waiting anxiously to do bloodwork and get the fuck out. I don’t mind needles. I watch. Once I’m done I head to the set of double doors of 4 North. I have to have Bruno buzz the first set unlocked, walk into the vestibule, wait for it to close behind me and have him unlock the second set. I’m going to Critical Care; it’s a huge open space with the Tim Hortons (not the Second Cup that’s closer but yuckier) and giant windows and couches. I bring a book and sit with my coffee as long as possible. I won’t be alone again all day.

I come back up at 07:55 and wait in the hall outside our special EDP kitchen. The gen psych population eats in the lounge or in their rooms. Some of them are aware that we have our own special room but not aware enough to understand why. Sometimes they yell about it. Once, a non-verbal man came in and took the glass base out of our microwave and we had to pull an alarm because our nurse had left briefly. Our nurse this morning is a bitch. I can’t put it any nicer. Her name is Brenda and we got off on the most wrongest foot ever. There’s a general belief that people with eating disorders are sneaky, manipulative liars. I fancy myself a rational adult and choosing to recover in this way was hard enough; it makes no sense to me at all that I’d voluntarily leave my job and move onto this ward just to lie and sneak around and try to lose weight and be symptomatic. She didn’t talk to me or get to know who I am before deciding I was bad. Seeing her walk down the hall, realizing she was our nurse for the 7-3 shift, makes my stomach flip. It causes me more anxiety than the meal itself. I spoke with the ward manager a few weeks ago though, Brenda apologized to me. She was wrong and treating me unfairly, for no reason evident to me. She still makes me anxious though. She’s late but she doesn’t apologize. If we’re late we’re actually punished with having to eat more at snack time. Punishing an unrelated infraction with food - now that’s logical. During Breakfast, we turn a radio on so it’s not silent. Brenda talks though - she’s famous for it. She’ll keep talking even though no one responds. She’ll keep talking even after we’re finished and waiting for her to start check-out. Breakfast is one of the worst meals in the day. In the wise words of Nate, my best friend in this hell-hole, “this meal makes no sense”, and they’ll chastise us saying meals don’t have to ‘make sense’ but having toast, a muffin with cream cheese on it, an apple and a glass of milk is a lot. But wait, cause if you’ve ordered a bran muffin with cream cheese too often (‘too often’ is completely based on the opinion of the power-tripping dietician, Shelley) you might get a bran muffin and…. a piece of plastic-wrapped, room-temperature cheddar cheese. This meal makes NO sense. So you down each piece as quick as possible because, that’s totally normal and not disordered eating, right? Yuck. When we start passing our plates to the person closest to the dish cart Brenda wraps up her latest anecdote, sighs, then turns to her side and asks the nearest one of us how their breakfast was. We have to say something positive - how this helps our recovery, (lying when necessary to come up with an acceptable response) I’m not sure. I say “I liked the muffin.”. Nate raises his eyebrows a tiny bit, tilts his head sharply and says “my omelette was the same temperature as my milk” and I stifle a laugh. He is a barista in the real world and he has a chalkboard-painted travel mug. Every day he writes something on it, every day I look forward to it. Today he’s written “Day 42: one lump, or two? “‘six’” - Shelley”. Last Friday's mug said “Day 39: to have your pancake and eat it too”. 

The day is spent in groups. There’s CBT group, led by a Nurse Practitioner, Simin, who is almost like a psychologist… except not at all. There’s family and relationships groups: open-circle groups led by Stephanie, an actual psychologist who can only speak in that whispery therapeutic tone shrinks develop. These groups drive me insane because it’s completely unstructured and we might spend the hour listening to some rambly, whiney story about someone’s mom. I’m a bitch though. It helps that person to talk, but hearing about five other people’s problems doesn’t benefit me at all. I have a therapist in the real world, I want to exempt myself from these groups. There’s body image, the ONLY group led by the psychiatrist who runs the inpatient program. There’s DBT where we just watch one patient draw a chain of events and we analyze the shit out of it for an hour. There’s ‘take charge’ group led by Jodie, a social worker, where we made resumes…. (most of us are adults with jobs), There’s medical education run by Simin again, the NP, possibly the only valid group although she chooses a topic at random and it’s very basic information, I truly appreciated the group where she explained that ‘gluten-free’ diets are a bullshit trend. There’s a group led by Shelley the dietician where we learn about the food pyramid and how milk is good for you.

Lunch is at noon. 2 starches, 2 protein, 1 vegetable, 1 fat, 1 fruit, 2 dairy. Afterwards we do menu marking. We sit together and circle the meals on wide menu sheets that we’ll have for the next five days. It’s so stressful I know ahead of time to ask for a PRN. I request clonazepam. In my pre-treatment life, I used this med as a sleep aid. Now it doesn’t affect my wakefulness in the slightest. I’m so anxious it barely does anything at all. I struggle immensely writing out my future five days. Trying to do it ‘right’. Trying to pick the ‘right’ things. Trying not to forget any portions. I hand over the sheets of marked menus to Brenda or Shelley and they skim it and accept it or point out flaws. I don’t trust the acceptance anyway, Shelley might make changes later without my consent. Why bother giving us this ‘responsibility’ and ‘control’ and ‘choice’ if you’re going to make changes later without warning and our food comes up with something senseless and surprising that we’re forced to consume anyway? Mixing food & eating with a sense of insecurity and distrust. Excellent. Oh, did I mention that if we’re late to group, chewing gum etc, we might also be punished by having one menu taken away, meaning one of our days meals will be totally redone by whoever is in charge at the time. It’s no wonder that this task and these people are actually giving me bigger trust issues and general anxiety than I probably came in here with. 

We also meet with the psychiatrist, Dr. Proulx, on Mondays. This is the only time we see her besides Body Image group, DBT sometimes, and Feedback (which is Tuesdays, a long table with all staff and all 6 of us) and it is the only time we see anyone on EDP staff one-on-one… and even then, Simin The NP is usually present as well. Throughout my time in program I won’t ever understand the purpose of this ‘one-on-one’ meeting besides to discuss medication. When I was admitted Dr. Proulx questioned the medication I’m on and suggested going off of it and trying something more fitting. I’m on Limotrigine, an anti-convulsant used off-label as a mood stabilizer for bipolar and schizophrenia. She didn’t know me or my history, decided it was the wrong medication, but then didn’t do anything to change it.

At 3pm, the nurses switch shifts. It’s a gamble, there are a few nurses who are true gems and a few who are new and/or unfamiliar with the psych ward. None of the nurses are specialized in eating disorders, they’re just trained nurses who happened to end up on the psych ward and then happened to end up assigned to us. Despite the clear lack of formal training or understanding, some try to psychoanalyze or offer impromptu therapy sessions. On one of my first days, a filipino nurse with broken english came in to ask me how my first shower was. I wanted to tell her it was worse than the public pool showers I remember vaguely from my childhood swimming lessons but I figured she wouldn’t get my dark sense of humour and just nod along knowingly, supportively, ahh yes, I see. But does she see? My bathroom comes equipped with two milk crates stacked sideways forming a sort of shelving unit for us to store tiny hospital towels. I have my razor hidden between a few of them, I just can’t stand having to ask for it every second day and I am not a self-harm risk. None of us are; self-harm = automatic discharge. The bathroom has a stand up shower, no shower curtain, just an open doorway beside a metal shower head protruding from the wall. Our bathroom door has no locks and our room’s door has a towel wrapped around the handles, preventing it from closing fully. My roommate has a huge problem with the lack of security and lack of privacy. She sleeps in a sleeping bag on top of her bed. The filipino nurse asked me if I had any urges and on my first day I was naive enough to not know what the hell she meant, asking nervously knowing my roommate was on her bed behind our divider curtain, certainly hearing this exchange, and the nurse clarified by miming cutting her wrists. Yep, definitely not a mental health professional. At 3pm I’m overjoyed to see our nurse is Barb. Colleen is a close second best-case-scenario, a warm, smiley woman with a kind voice and a motherly demeanour. Barb is funny and also very kind. She holds one of us back at random after dinner to check-in and unlike every other nurses attempts at therapeutic conversations, I do enjoy chatting with Barb. She believes me when I tell her I didn’t mean to cut my meat up into ‘too-small’ pieces, she believes me when I tell her that’s not an ED behaviour I have. She believes me when I say I know what I’m doing here, what I mean to accomplish, what my goal is; I mean to spend my 8 weeks (that’s the max, I had decided right away) eating well-rounded meals and gaining some weight. I know I’m sick, I know I have an eating disorder and I know I’m doing serious damage to myself, she hears me when I say this. She believes me, and more importantly, she respects my decision, when I tell her I’m not looking to work on issues relating to past relationships, family, self. I’ve worked with half a dozen therapists by now, I know that 8 weeks in an artificial environment made up of 90% group therapy sessions is not the place for me to open up about any and all issues, I know it won’t help and could actually hurt. Barb hears me and believes me. I respect her for respecting me and treating me like a rational adult. Dr. Proulx tells me that anorexia is not rational, therefore I am not rational. It’s like she doesn’t think that eating disorders are mental illnesses, and I can be level-headed and rational about any other area of my life. I feel distrust and scrutiny from almost every direction. I’m a perfectionist and feeling like I am failing constantly is extremely distressing. Not feeling approval from those in charge of my care and recovery is really hard for me. 

Dinner with Barb is nice though, and often times meals are ok. The food isn’t all terrible. I did make a dire mistake of selecting a ‘salisbury steak’ not actually knowing what it was but knowing what steak was and knowing I was in The Red Meat Club (low iron) so I didn’t have a lot of choice anyway. Salisbury steak, the hospital kind at least, is something I don’t ever wanna see or smell .. or taste.. again. Imagine how hard it was finding a positive to share with the group after that surprise. I also tried my very first Shawarma here in the EDP kitchen. It was pretty good. We’re a bit lucky because EDP gets extra menu options and they’re good ones like Stir Fry of the Day, different sometimes but good almost always. Barb is nice but she’s just as strict as the rest of the team, things can still go bad real quick - like someone throwing a pudding cup across the table, scattering silverware and cups everywhere. I leave the kitchen when Barb said “ok you all can go except….” and she chooses someone she’s been wanting to chat with, hasn’t seen around much, etc. It’s not me today.

What’s difficult about the routine after dinner is that unless it’s the one day a week where we have our glorified arts and crafts group (therapeutic creative expression?) we have 2+ hours to kill. We have visitors or we hang out or just hide behind our curtains watching Netflix on our laptops. If we have arts and crafts, whichever nurse happens to be on shift that night picks an activity at random, I think they must google it 20 minutes prior, and we’re expected to do the activity as if it’s crucial to our progress and recovery. The only example I can even think of is when Brenda told us to “draw what having a life looks like” and in her better-than-thee way, left it at that. So poetic and profound and intentional. I basically regressed back to my oppositional high school self, took her directions exactly literally and sketched a perfect anatomical fetus in utero. That’s what it looks like when someone “has a life” inside them. Everyone else did what I knew she wanted; smiley faces and playing outside and friends and family and food and stuff. No. I’m an artist. I won’t conform. 

 Since dinner is at 5pm, night snack feels miles away at 8pm and that’s great except then we’ve eaten (sometimes several things) so late before bed it makes relaxing enough to sleep really difficult. I have graduated to a meal plan where even at snacks I have to consume what feels (to my body) like a LOT of food. Because I’m still not gaining weight as fast as they think I should be, I’ve had an Ensure Plus Calories added to my meal plan. I have a Chocolate Ensure Plus Calories with a pack of 4 two-bite brownies. At 8:00pm, after a solid dinner and a solid day of solid meals. I regret immensely choosing this too-chocolatey snack combo. No point wishing it wasn’t so, I sit down with my things. We all scan across the table to see what everyone else has. No one is jealous of me. We came in on our own and are waiting for Barb but she’s actually taking her dinner so Nurse Will comes in. Nurse Will is a hottie, or at least.. the hottie. There aren’t a lot to choose from (although, pro-tip: set your Tinder location settings to as narrow as possible and you’ll pick up a lot of nurses and doctors in here). Nurse Will has helped out with EDP nurses on occasion but never on snack with us. He seems a little uncomfortable, not sure what routine we follow. I open my brownie packet and discover there are 5 and not 4. I panic. I look around wildly trying to catch someone’s attention. Amy sees me first, sigh of relief, Mom might help me. My voice cracks and I tell Will there’s an extra brownie it’s only supposed to be 4. I know this is not an anorexia thing, but I know normal people would be delighted by an extra brownie, but normal people don’t also have to down the 400 calories of chocolate ensure I do. I’m already challenging myself so much and oh jesus god if he makes me eat the 5th one that I was never supposed to have I’ll throw a proper fit. I’ll get myself discharged. But he makes one joke about how ‘oh I guess you have to eat it!” but my look of terror had him quiet down and say it’s all good if they say so? Confirmation from my team that it’s ok if I don’t eat the 5th brownie. We do that too, sometimes someone has an issue and the team weighs in and says well I had that food too so it’s ok for you to, or maybe hmmm that is a lot of rice if you’re not ‘challenging’ this meal. My life was in their hands but they unanimously agreed that 4 is the normal in those bags. Safe. Well, still very full of heavy, rich, chocolatey calories. Camille gives me a shy smile and thumbs up from across the table. I remember the first time she did this to me, my first day here and I was pushed into lunch with 5 people I didn’t know, a room I’d never been in, a sandwich I didn’t like. And I cried. And cried and cried. Quietly as possible, because surely the other 5 people were uncomfortable. But I looked up and Camille was waiting for me to look up, her hand clenched in a thumbs-up of encouragement. I wanted to cry and run away and I was so embarrassed and this stranger was being more kind than she needed to be.

After snack I jump in the shower. As quickly as human possible because as I’ve mentioned, our shower is drafty, the shower head is such a little nub on the wall that you have to press your back flush with the cringey tiles to be under the shower head’s spray zone. I don’t stop thinking about what I’d do if the bathroom door suddenly flew open. After, I dry off using 3 scratchy little hospital towels and walk down the hall to drop em in a laundry bin. I grab new ones cause I need to rebury my razor in them. My MacBook and it’s charger are under my mattress. 

At night I usually hang out with Nate. We might go down so he can smoke and for my last dose of fresh air for the night. Back on the ward, we sit up on the counter outside my room and watch the nightly traffic go by. We read IKEA catalogues, make up backstories for patients. We watch this NBA sized guy pacing slowly, dragging his catatonic feet but managing to have feverish conversations with the people in his head. Otherwise, the hallway traffic tour slows and we have some quiet. We sit in the lounge watching the other nurses all doing checks together and chatting. Eventually Nurse Jillian will firmly encourage us to go to our rooms. It’s probably 1am but I’ll be up at 6:30am and tip toe out of bed to start this all over again. 

Except tomorrow is Tuesday, We’ll have Feedback at a round table with the whole EDP staff, all 6 of us, and go round the table one-by-one one staff delivering the feedback of all to the one patient. Feedback is maybe more stressful than Menu Marking but not usually for me. I go into Feedback having faith that these professionals discussed and shared their thoughts, that I can’t get bad feedback because I’ve done nothing but try to do everything right. Feedback can change everything for some… not for me…..  until the time that it does. 

But that’s another Day in Inpatient Eating Disorders Treatment. A Tuesday