#INCREDIBLY STRANGE to go through an entire lunch without ever directly speaking to me or my partner?

[violatordyke]

HATE my cousins and atp they are either homophobic or just crazy rude bc wdym you haven't said a single word to my partner in 4 entire years

[zonamievents]

ZoNa Summer Festival Day #7

Theme: Barbecue Rating: T / PG-14 Word Count: 2,190 words

Nami didn’t think it was necessary to have a ‘celebratory barbecue’ for returning to the Sunny after a night out in the jungle. Sanji, on the other hand, was adamant that it was vitally important. The crew had been forced to wait out the entire evening before they could look for her and the swordsman, and those stressful hours were torture for them. Or so she had been told.

It was the dramatic chef who explained all of this to her while preparing his portable grill on the shore of the island, so there wasn’t any time to properly discuss the matter.

If an outdoor lunch was inevitable, then Nami had no choice but to enjoy the festivities.

Within a matter of minutes, she had emerged from the Women’s Quarters in a brand new bikini. The fabric was a vibrant sangria red, with golden chain links integrated into the straps over her shoulders and the thin bands along her hips. It made her feel elegant after spending the night sleeping on the ground—

Well, no. That wasn’t entirely true. She spent some of it in Zoro’s arms.

“Sanji-kuuun!” she called out to the party organizer rather hastily as soon as her sandaled feet jumped off of the wooden ramp and hit the shore. “How much longer until we get to eat?”

“Just five more minutes, Nami-swaaan! Help yourself to a piña colada under the umbrella with Robin-chwan!” Sanji suggested while squealing like a child. He was behaving very much like a kid on their birthday as he tossed an assortment of meats and vegetables onto the barbecue, something that never ceased to amaze her. The energy he could summon at a moment’s notice for either cooking or women was a feat in its own way.

“How are you feeling, Nami?” Robin asked her the moment she walked under the shade of the umbrella.

Making herself comfortable in the only other lawn chair, Nami sighed as she answered, “I’m all right. It wasn’t that bad, actually.”

Laid out on her own seat, sunglasses falling down the bridge of her nose, the older woman eyed her with soft surprise. “You managed to find shelter from the rain?”

“Oh yeah,” Nami waved off her worry. At the same time, her other hand reached for her awaiting piña colada. “I knew it was coming and Zoro found us a place to hide in time.”

“That’s a relief. We were all worried that you were stranded in some way.” Admitted Robin.

The straw popped out of Nami’s mouth after her very first sip. “The closest thing we had to shelter was some branches leaning up against these chopped down trees! It’s amazing I didn’t catch a cold or anything.”

“Especially if you weren’t able to make a fire.” Agreed her friend, behaving as if the worry had yet to leave her.

“No, but I had Zoro’s big body as a heat source, which is just as good.” Nami promised her at a rambling pace just to put an end to any lingering concerns. Then, she dove back into her drink.

The sounds of Luffy, Usopp, Chopper and Franky playing some ball-related game on the beach behind her gathered the navigator’s attention, compelling her to take a look at what they were freaking out about. In some strange way, whenever she was away from the signature Mugiwara crew chaos, she missed it dearly. Listening to her captain demand another turn for whatever exercise they were doing was oddly comforting to her.

“Is that so?” The sung question wiped away the momentary peace Nami was feeling though as it called her focus back to Robin. She had yet to fix the position of her glasses, which only emphasized the suspicious arch in her brow as she stared back at her.

It took her an embarrassingly long moment to realize what could have garnered such a reaction from her friend. As it dawned on her, Nami sat up straight and flailed the way an innocent person totally would have. “I was willing to stay on the ground all night b-but Zoro let me use him as a body pillow! I-In a seated position, w-with me-e-e curled up in a ball like a cat!”

There were imaginary pins and needles prodding her as the seconds ticked by them. Robin was taking her time digesting her words – or perhaps her behavior when saying those words – and then replied with a meager, “I see.”

Nami watched the older woman finally push her sunglasses up to their proper resting place and reach for her drink. Sipping on the icy beverage felt like a cheap attempt at preventing her from saying anything more than that. The polite answer left the navigator feeling dismissed, whether intentional or otherwise, inspiring her to leave her seat and take a stroll around the set up the crew had made on the beach.

Drink in hand, of course.

She already had her fair share of befuddling thoughts about Roronoa Zoro – she didn’t need the scrutiny of her crew mates added to the mix. It was true that she had recently become incredibly… fascinated by him. It had always baffled her, which was a different sort of fascination. But his reactions to her lately ever since their naked dip in the sea had left her feeling scattered. Was she supposed to pretend it didn’t happen? Was she supposed to be timid around him now? Was he avoiding her or was she just hypersensitive to whatever he did now?

It was taking her a while to see beyond his squeamish behavior and figure out how she would react to this perplexing version of Roronoa Zoro, but she’d get there. Even if it meant she’d end up yearning for another evening in his arms for the rest of their journey and it never happened again, at least she’d know what she wanted from him, despite the odds that nothing particularly wonderful would ever take place between them.

Or maybe she was starved in another way: her empty stomach was aching after going half a day without a single bite to eat.

Nami strolled up next to Sanji on swift feet and put on her most feminine voice. “Mmm, it smells delicious, Sanji-kun. What’s on the menu?”

His arms were thrashing about as he managed every single morsel that was cooking on his grill top. Focused, he didn’t have time to fall victim to her flirtations, but the chef proudly answered her with a grin on his face, “We have burgers for Franky, plus skewers of all kinds! Scallops, shrimp, chicken, beef, mushrooms, asparagus and cherry tomatoes wrapped in bacon.”

Every single item of food he mentioned just made her hungrier. Salivating, Nami praised his efforts with great excitement. “Wow, it all sounds so amazing.”

“Oh, also, those sausages over there” – he used his tongs to point at the pyramid arrangement of buns that sat on the platform attached to his barbecue – “are already cooked. I’m just waiting for these to be finished, and then we can sit down and eat.”

“Is there anything I can snack on no-o-ow?” She felt like a child trying to trick him into feeding her, but she wasn’t above using her feminine wiles to get a bite to eat so late in the day.

Sanji stared apologetically at his assortment of skewers, however, she knew the look was really meant for her. “I promise it’ll be ready really soon, Nami-san. I’ll make sure you get the first plate of food, all right?”

Nami didn’t answer him. She just pouted at him in protest of his denial of her.

Nevertheless, he was much too concentrated on preparing a hearty meal for the crew to pay her much attention. In fact, he only snapped his head upwards when he realized that something was missing. The proud chef beamed at her when he suddenly required her help. “Could you just watch the grill for a second? I need to go grab the side dishes I prepared from the fridge.”

“Ah, I could get them—“

“Oh no, Nami-san! I wouldn’t dream of making you do any physical labor! Not after what you went through last night!” He was totally prepared to prattle on, but Nami wasn’t interested in hearing it.

“Okay, okay.” She promised despite the eye roll she gave him.

“Thank you!” He screeched his gratitude as he raced his onto the Sunny.

The hungry navigator glared at the meat that wasn’t fully cooked through yet. Smelling the different kinds of skewers as they were grilled to perfection was draining, like it was stealing what remaining energy she had left in her body. All Nami wanted to do was take a bite of something to quell the rumbling in her tummy…

That’s when she happened to glance at the beautiful arrangement of sausages sitting before her. Cooked. Ready to eat. Practically taunting her in their most likely warmed buns, with a nice char to their skin.

Nami licked her lips, trying to decide whether or not she was willing to risk upsetting Sanji by disobeying him directly. Then she remembered that the entire celebration was for her sake, and deemed herself worthy of having what would surely be the first bite of the meal. With greedy, sneaky hands did she snatch a sausage from the back of the pyramid in the hopes that she wouldn’t be caught. It was probably the largest sausage she’d ever eaten, she surmised when she felt the weight of it in her hands. The girth of it only made it all the more appealing.

Nami opened her mouth wide, ready to take the biggest bite. Her lips flared out around the tip of it due to the size while she began to sink her teeth—

“Hey,” a whispered voice crept up behind her, scaring her into stillness. “I’m starving. Is there anything ready to eat yet?”

Oh no, someone had the same idea as her.

Someone’s with a rather rough texture to their voice.

Someone who made a shiver run up her spine when he spoke in that deep tone of his.

Slowly, shamefully, Nami looked at Zoro over her shoulder while there was a gigantic sausage stuck in her mouth. She panicked about what she was going to do, now that she had been caught stealing food from her own crew at a party. It quickly occurred to her that she could rip it in half and split it with him, hoping to buy his silence!

But the way he jumped back a few feet from her told Nami that her plan wasn’t going to work. No, instead of giving her a chance to speak at all, a suspiciously jittery Zoro stammered, “I-I, uh, n-never mind. I-I’ll eat later!” He ran off in his swim trunks and she assumed he was merely going to run over to play whatever ball game the boys were playing.

No, Nami was compelled to watch the proud, collected swordsman panic until he had walked straight into the ocean and dove underwater like some kind of terrified shark.

All she could do was stand there and watch the spectacle as it unfolded before her very eyes. It was so chaotic that she couldn’t begin to compute what on earth had caused him to react in such a way. It was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when Sanji returned. His high-pitched beckoning reached her first, calling out to her, “Nami-saaan! I’m back—Ah, you’re eating a sausage?”

Guilt rushed over her coldly and she snapped her jaw shut. It was a delicious bite, like she had suspected, making it difficult to prioritize any emotion other than appreciation. “Ah, these are really good! I normally don’t eat these, but it’s… it’s…”

A sausage.

He had run away from her when she had an incredibly thick, long sausage in her mouth.

No, he couldn’t have thought… could he!? “AH!” Nami shouted, throwing her bitten into sausage at the prepared pyramid. The top two rows crumbled from the impact which upset the chef who prepared them greatly. He tried to catch the tumbling ones while she looked back at the sea. Zoro hadn’t resurfaced yet, and a part of her didn’t want him to!

Or did she? Was there something going on with him? Between them? The possibility that he was thinking dirty things like that made her feel jittery too, in her own way. All she wanted to do was tease him and chastise him without facing him. She didn’t know if she was ready to yet! It would be uncomfortable for the both of them if she said something to him and she was completely wrong. However, she didn’t think she was… Was she? “Nami, are you okay?” Robin asked for the second time that day. She had ran over to her when she had made the commotion with the pyramid, earning the concern that was being shown to her.

Nami rebuffed her completely. “I’m fine!” She promised, though this time, she wasn’t so sure.

‘What does it mean, if he’s looking at me in that way?’

[dragonasheswrites-blog]

The Heaven We Didn’t Choose, Chapter 23: In Which Traumas Are Addressed

...And Sans is in A Mood.

First: Chapter 1: In Which a Child Makes a Friend

Previous: Chapter 22: In Which a Queen Babysits

Next: Chapter 24

Click here for the story overview.

The shortcut to the Monster Embassy was everything he’d feared it would be and worse.  The spot he’d picked to teleport to - a small supply closet he’d hid out in a few times when tagging along with Boss - was more crowded than he remembered, and he knocked over several brooms and a bucket as he tried to find his footing.  He was lucky he hadn’t broken something.

He was also lucky that the embassy was too well-trafficked to make a barrier a possibility.  Trying to teleport into a barrier wasn’t something he’d ever tried, but...

...Wait.

He patted his pockets.  His empty pockets, devoid of a phone.  Oh, stars. He’d just gotten himself stuck outside, hadn’t he.  He buried the thought deep and carefully opened the supply closet door.  The hallway beyond was busier than he remembered, but no one questioned him when he slouched over to where he vaguely remembered the offices being.

It was uncomfortable being in the embassy, and not just because every bone in his body was screaming at him.  It was so bright.  The walls were light shades of green and blue and orange, and the ceilings were white.  There was plenty of lighting, but it was already an uncommonly sunny winter day; why did they need the lights on??  The simple benches in the hallway and a common area beyond gave the area a sleek and minimalistic feel.

It was the antithesis of what the Underground had been, with its darkness and grime and entire cities built from trash.  He didn’t know how to feel about that.

The office space in the embassy was a large room decorated in soft browns and greens and more potted plants than he’d ever seen in his life.  Doors along the walls had names and silly decorations, leading - he guessed - to offices for the senior staff. Several rows of cubicles on the edges of the room served as desk space for humans and monsters running to and from conference rooms and copy machines.  The open are in the center was like the eye of a storm: small groups had settled on the couches or were hovering near the tall bar tables, chatting in low voices or eating an early lunch.

He almost walked straight past Frisk’s office.  The room he’d thought was her office - a large and ostentatious space - turned out to be a conference room; hopefully, no one noticed him poking his head in.  In his embarrassment, he nearly didn’t notice a small, humble name plaque on a nearby door that read:

Frisk Dreemurr Ambassador for Monsters

That was it.  No fanfare, no mention of any of the other roles and titles she held.  Someone had stuck a stylized little paper angel near the doorknob, and there was a Delta Rune etched into the frosted glass, but it was surprisingly simple.

He hesitated, one hand raised to knock on the door.  What if she was mad at him? Boss was always angry when Sans showed up somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.  Frisk wasn’t Boss, and had gone well out of her way to help him, but he couldn’t shake the comparison.

The door opened before he made up his mind.

“Sans?  Is...are you okay?  How did you get up here?”  She stepped aside and gestured him in, closing the door quickly behind him.

“You left your lunch.”  He held out the offending package.  “Your mom asked if I’d bring it to ya.”

“Oh.  Thanks.”  She set it on her desk, then moved it to the side so she could fiddle with some papers.  Her free hand was drumming a frantic beat on the desktop. “Do you have - no, you won’t be able to teleport back to the house with the barrier up.  Shoot. Shoot.”

“Everythin’ okay?”

“Yes, fine, I just have a very important meeting in a few minutes.”

The half-lie was so smooth he barely caught it.

He opened his mouth, about to say he could just go home, then realized his error.  He didn’t have a home anymore. “If I can borrow your phone, I can call someone at the house-”

“You're sure you can’t teleport home?”

“Too low on magic.”  Just the idea of teleporting again made him feel tired.

A ding! made her flinch and pull out her cell phone.  Whatever message she’d received made the crease between her eyebrows deepen.  “Sans, come with me.”

“Uh…”

“You’re dressed...fine.  Okay; this’ll work. Stay with me and do exactly what I say, please.  Oh; here.” She handed him a notepad and pencil. “Take notes or something; it’ll keep people from looking at you strangely.”

He wanted to protest, he really did.  Being ordered around had always grated on him, even after living so long under Boss’s rule.  But this was Frisk, who had saved his life and offered him sanctuary, and he couldn’t say no to her when she looked so shaken.  If taking control of the situation in this little way helped her regain her equilibrium, well, he'd survive. He’d been through worse.

The pair left the office area and went down a long hallway lined with windows.  Below them in the courtyard snow fell softly on the garden and the statues of a young boss monster and seven human children.  The walkways and flowerbeds were barely visible, little more than lumps and dips in the thick blanket of white.

Around a corner and down another hallway was a large conference room.  Frisk settled herself at the table with a motley group of other humans and monsters, gesturing Sans into one of the seats along the wall behind her.  He let himself be guided, a bit confused. Sure, some of the people looked pretty strange and were wearing funny clothes, but he saw nothing that could have caused Frisk to use her powers over time itself.

On the far wall, a logo of some kind was slowly appearing on a large projector screen.  A short human woman perched on a stepladder was tinkering with the setup, adjusting wires and pushing buttons on a remote she held.  After a few minutes the image suddenly changed and a second conference room, this one full of human men and women in dark business suits, appeared on the screen.  The remote was handed over to Frisk with a smile and a “call me if it starts making that sound again” as she was led out by one of the guards stationed at the door.

The guards were a combination of human security, easily identifiable by their uniforms, and the Royal Guards.  Sans was a little disturbed to realize that he didn’t recognize any of them. Either they’d been Hotland guards or they were new recruits.  Where was Undyne? Sure, she had other duties, but she tended to stick close to Frisk.

Maybe he was being paranoid.

The meeting itself was incredibly boring, at least from Sans’s perspective.  The most interesting part was when Frisk started speaking a rather musical foreign language, which was pretty neat, but it also meant he couldn’t understand what was going on.  Ten minutes in, and he was writing down macabre jokes in an attempt to stay awake and not embarrass her after she’d been so nice to him. The chair was supremely uncomfortable; he regretted ever worrying about the kiddo and agreeing to take her lunch to her.  Time ticked on slowly like he was sinking into swamp water. There was no reason for him to be there. There was nothing-

Actually, that human across from Frisk looked suspicious.  Sans tried to place him and failed completely, but something about him seemed strangely familiar.  He was wearing a picture ID badge - all the visiting dignitaries were - but it was too far away for Sans to read.  What he could see was the way the man was looking at Frisk.  It seemed...well. There was something there he couldn’t quite trace, something a little guilty and a little possessive and a little of something else that put him on edge.

The really strange thing was that Frisk never appeared to even glance the man’s way.  It was hard to tell from looking at the back of her head, but she certainly never spoke directly to him.  It was a large enough group that it was excusable, and he never spoke directly to her either, but the way she tensed every time he shifted made Sans wary.

A scuffle at the door made the guards tense, but a moment later Undyne shoved her way into the room.  Sans watched as she canvassed the room, did a double-take at seeing him, and softly stepped over to Frisk.  She whispered something in Frisk’s ear before joining Sans in the seats along the wall.

Sitting next to a live, sparking wire would have been less stressful.  She didn’t glance at him, didn’t ask why he was there or what he was doing, but he knew with absolute certainty that she was aware and curious.  Undyne didn’t seem like the type to be professional about such things, but she never did conform to what was expected of her. She just sat there, arms crossed, watching Frisk with a very intense expression.

Sans wondered if she remembered the anomaly as well.  Maybe she had a better idea of what was going on.

A sudden shuffling of papers marked either the end of the meeting or a break; he knew how long those things could get but hadn’t been paying attention.  Frisk stood abruptly and strode towards the door, followed by a rush of aides and politicians. Undyne turned to glare at him.

“...What?” he muttered.

The glare intensified.

More from a desire to get away from the crazy fish lady than anything, he followed Frisk out the door.

If she noticed him jogging along behind her, she didn’t react.  She just walked as quickly as she could towards her office without actually running.  Her office door smacked him in the face but she caught it at the last moment, letting him through before closing it quietly.

For all her composure and apparent easy confidence, Sans could clearly see her hands shaking.

“You...uh, you okay?”

“Yes.  Fine.”

“C’mon, give me some credit.  ‘M not that out of it.”

“Everything is alright.  I didn’t take you for a worrier, Sans.”

For the first time, he could see that she was deliberately baiting him.  How many times had she done that, used his fickle temper against him to avoid talking about something uncomfortable?  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

He swallowed his temper and gave her a lazy grin.  “Wonders never cease. Was it that guy?”

“What guy?”  The way she stiffened said that she knew exactly what he meant, and she was too distraught to cover her reactions properly.  “There were plenty of-”

“Cut the crap.  The one who sat down almost right across from you.  Tall, brown hair, dark blue suit and grey tie? Ringing any bells, kiddo?”

“I...I don’t…”

There was a strange feeling of guilt as he watched her composure fail.  She didn’t wail or shriek or curse, just...sat there quietly, behind her desk, her face in her hands and her shoulders slumped.  Tears leaked out from between her fingers.

“Look, seriously, what’s up?  Are y’in trouble? I dunno how much good it’ll do, but ‘m sure Undyne ‘n I can take ‘im out if it’s important to ya…”

Her hiccupping laugh had an edge of hysteria to it.  “You don’t know how much that means to me, but...it’s a bit late now.  Stars, I wish I hadn’t been so stupid.”

“Psh.  ‘Ts never too late for a good bit of revenge.”

“No, no, I’d just feel guilty if I unleashed you and Undyne on him now.  No matter what he...what happened. Can you hand me a Kleenex? That box right there on the edge of my desk.”

Sans found the bright cardboard box full of soft pieces of paper - Kleenexes? - and handed it over.

“Thanks.”  She blew her nose and cleaned up her eyes a bit.  They still looked red and puffy.

“So’s the meeting done?”

“Hmm?  Oh, yes.  I have a bit of paperwork and some phone calls, but Undyne offered to take you back to the house.  There’s no need to wait with me.”

He didn’t budge.  Not only did he not know where Undyne was, he also didn’t want to relive the day yet again.  He couldn’t see a clock, and he didn’t have his phone, so he couldn’t tell if this attempt had lasted longer than the previous one.  Had he made a difference after all?

“Sans…”

“Dunno where Undyne is.”

“You’re being...really difficult right now.”

“I’m a difficult guy.”

“Aren’t you also a recovering guy?  Didn’t your brother just try to dust you?”

He didn’t flinch.  He didn’t.  “I’m resting here just fine.”

“I see the way you’re holding yourself.  Your legs and your ribs be killing you right now. Just go home with Undyne, get some food and take a nap.”

“There’s something weird going on here.”

“I can take care of myself!”

“You were crying.”  He winced internally; it sounded like an accusation.

Instead of the anger he expected, Frisk just stared at her hands.  “Why do you care?”

“I owe you.  No, let me finish.  You ‘n Undyne saved my life.  You think I’m just gonna forget that?  And...well, we haven’t always gotten along, but I’d like to think that changed a little.  That we have some common ground somewhere.”

“You mean...Attie.”

“Well.  Uh. Sure.  I mean, you’re not half bad either when you’re not sending big boxes of peanuts to my house.”

She snorted, actually snorted, and he felt a reluctant grin tug at his mouth.  Okay, in hindsight, the peanut incident had been kinda funny.

“Whatever happened to them?”

“Gave most of ‘em to Grillbz.  He put them out at the bar. ‘Course Boss m-”  He felt himself choke on his words for a moment and cursed himself.  “Boss had me eat them breakfast, lunch ‘n dinner ‘till I proved they were ‘gone;’ he didn’t want good food to go to waste.”  His grin felt strained.

“Oh.  I’m sorry-”

“Pft.  Don’t apologize; that ruins it.  I did send you that box of live spiders first, remember?  It was good ‘n proper revenge.”

She smiled a little, but it looked reluctant.  “I guess it was. Those poor spiders were very unhappy after going through the postal system, I’ll have you know.  We got most of them back to Muffet, but I suspect we still have one or two who decided to hang out here in the Embassy instead.  Hah. Hard to believe...we didn’t get along for so long, and here we are. Funny how that works, hmm?”

“Y-yeah.”

Of course they hadn’t gotten along, he reminded himself yet again.

He’d killed her in cold blood.  Many times.

He kept forgetting that with this new camaraderie.

That was the reason he couldn’t flat-out ask Frisk what had happened before she moved time back.  If she didn’t remember doing it, he’d look crazy. If she did remember doing it, then that meant that she remembered how he’d tossed her around until her skull and ribs cracked, blasted her to ash, stabbed at her soft belly and delicate hands and sensitive eyes-

“Sans?  Everything okay?”

Everything was not okay.  He nodded anyways.

“You looked a little lost there for a minute.  What happened?”

“Just...remembering.  Something bad. Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t apologize.  I’m...well, you saw. I’m hardly one to judge.”  She took a deep breath, folding and unfolding the Kleenex in her hands with steady movements.  “I knew that man. The one who sat across from me. He...he hurt me, very badly, and due to the circumstances he was never brought to justice.  I didn’t realize he’d been invited to a meeting with the Japanese ambassador, of all people. I usually have warnings about these things, but today…”  She shrugged.

Sans didn’t know what to say.  Why was she telling him this? Was this supposed to make him feel better?

“But...yeah, that’s why I rushed out of there.  I told them that I had a conference call. I may have lied a little.  In Japanese. So you didn’t find out.”

He stared at her for a moment, then burst into helpless laughter.  “Y’didn’t want me to find out?  Who the hell would I tell?  I don’t know those big-ass politician types!”

“I didn’t want you to call me out on it, okay?  Tact hasn’t...always been something you’re great at.  I mean-”

“Heh.  You’re right.”  It was weird, watching her try to justify her criticisms.  He knew very well that he wasn’t tactful.  He had no reason to be. He could dance around subjects that made him uncomfortable, but he didn’t care much about how it affected others.  It was something he’d probably have to work on, now. “So. You gonna tell me who that guy was?”

She eyed him warily.  “Why? What are you going to do?”

“Invite him out for tea and cookies.”

“Hah.  Nope. There’s no way in hell I’m going to sic you on him.”

“Alright, then, just tell me who he is.”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Because you’d go after him on your own, and probably rope Undyne into it.  And it would be a huge international incident and I’d have weeks of paperwork just to keep you from being tried in the human court system.”

“And Undyne wouldn’t be?”

Frisk shrugged.  “She’s Captain of the Royal Guard.  Leaders of the Guard still have immunity from prosecution when executing their duties, just like they did Underground.  Of course, it would still look bad, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Drat.”  The immunity thing was one reason why the Guard had been so distrusted Underground: they were a law unto themselves, as long as they didn’t cross Asgore.  Of course, when Undyne had killed the former captain and assumed command of the Guard, she’d put that loophole to good use cleaning up both their ranks and the Underground in general.  It helped that she had trained under Asgore himself for a time; vindictive as the king was, he had enough of a soft spot for her that he didn’t give into the cries for vengeance from his people. He didn’t protect her from assassination attempts, but he didn’t hand her over to the crowds, either.  “This guy is important, then? If it would cause a big incident?”

“Yes.”

“And...he’s Japanese?  He didn’t look like the other Japanese people.  Actually, he looked familiar...”

“No.  Fine. He’s a lobbyist.”

Sans vaguely remembered the term from when he was sitting in on meetings early on in their negotiations, when they were trying to find an arrangement that would let them out of the Underground, but the definition escaped him.  “That’s...too bad?”

She smiled.  “It means he works for a group of people who all want the same thing...at least in theory.  Workers’ unions have powerful lobbies, for example: teachers, policemen, firefighters, actors, railroad workers, airline pilots: they all have large memberships and can carry some serious political weight.  There are also lobbyists for companies, like pharmaceutical companies and banks and telecommunications providers, and special interest groups like members of a certain race or religion or people who want something in particular. Part of what makes these groups so powerful is that they’re hired, not elected; politicians change, but lobbyists stick around.

“That man was working for a civil rights lobby when I...met him.  You probably saw him, too, in the meetings you sat in on when we were first trying to gain citizenship.  He wasn’t terribly outspoken, but he wielded a lot of power. He was here on behalf of a group of energy companies today.  I’m not sure who invited him, but he speaks enough Japanese that I couldn’t reasonably call his presence into question.”

“That’s...wait.  “Civil rights;” that’s what humans call the whole issue of treating certain people in certain ways, right?”

“Well...that’s not quite how they’d put it, but I guess that's a fair enough assessment.”

“Then he was fighting against monsters having rights?”

Frisk sunk down in her chair a little.  “No, Sans. He was fighting for monster rights.  He was on our side.”

“Oh.”  Even on the surface, things were so awfully messy.  “I guess that’s what you meant by “circumstances,” then.”

“Partly.  If I’d said something, he could have turned it on us and made us look bad.  There were civil rights groups on both sides, you know; some saw us as an infringement on their “turf,” as it were.  Everything in the civil rights world is comparative: the biggest victims win. A lot of them helped make changes for the better when they started out - and many still do - but the political side is a competition for eyes and ears and money.  And how do you beat being buried under a mountain and left to rot for millennia? There were many powerful people who didn’t want us up here.  It was partly thanks to this man’s intervention that we won, despite...well.”

“Despite what?”

“Please...don’t ask.”  She looked like she was almost about to cry again.  “I just...I can’t do this today. There’s a reason I haven’t told people.  Please, just let it go.”

Naturally, this made every bone in Sans’s body want to dig deeper, but he nodded instead.  He could find out in other ways.

Once he was feeling better, maybe.  He shifted and winced; he'd been able to ignore it in the heat of the moment, but he was still very, very sore.

“Alright, that's enough.  Let’s go find Undyne and get you home.”

“Yyyyup, okay.”

Undyne’s grin was sharp when she was told that Sans would be taking her up on her offer.  She looked vindictive.  The driving wasn’t nearly as smooth as it had been the last time he rode with her; he was pretty sure he had some new bruises on his ribs in the shape of the car door handle.

“What’s eating you?” he asked when they were stopped at a red light.  “Didn’t get your coffee?”

“No,” she growled.  “I mean...that’s not it.  You saw that asshole, right?”

“I’m pretty sure I saw no butts-”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!”

A soccer mom in the van next to them glanced over, worried.

“Heh, fine.  Which asshole?”

“The one sitting across from Frisk at the meeting, in the blue suit.”

“Yeah.”

“Whaddaya know about him?”

Well that was a pickle.  Had Frisk meant her explanation to be private?  Undyne was, famously, her bestie; did Undyne know?  “Frisk...said he was a lobbyist. Something to do with energy.”

“Hmph.  Just like her to leave out the important bits so she doesn’t worry anyone.”  The light turned and she looked back at the road, nimbly navigating around the soccer mom.  “Listen up, punk. The only reason I’m telling you this is because Frisk likes you now, and you haven’t gone after her.  If that changes I’m gonna have to dust you, but I’m not gonna spit in an ally’s face.

“So if you’re gonna be part of this friendship group thing, this is what you need to know.  That guy hurt her. Bad. Don’t know why or how, but I have my guesses.” Another red light allowed her to look over at him with an intense eye.  “Don’t you ever allow her to be alone with him, do you hear me?”

“‘Kay.”

“Stars-damnit, Sans, this is serious-”

“Okay, okay, I get it.  Don’t let her be alone with the asshole.”

“Good.  Do you remember what he looks like?”

“Uuuuhh…”

“Tch.  Here.” She unlocked her phone one-handed, pulled up a picture, and tossed it to him.  “Memorize that face. When your weak ass is healed up I’ll get you back in close quarters with him so you can get a good feel for him, too.”

It amused him that she was treating his ability to detect differences in magic like the dogs’ ability to pick up a scent trail.  He didn’t say so - she’d probably get mad and crash the car - but it was still funny.

“What’re you grinning for?”

“I’m a skeleton.  I can’t not grin.”

“You know what I mean!!”

“Car.”

“What-oh.  Don’t tell me how to drive, asshole!”  She swerved around the slow car all the same, barely missing its rear bumper.  “You’re in a mood today, aren’t you.  Bastard.”

He hummed in agreement.  “I’ll keep an eye out for this guy, though.”

“Good.  You followed Frisk to her office, right?”

“...Yeah?”

Undyne took a deep breath.  “Don’t be a fishstick about this, but...did she cry?”

He considered giving her a hard time for a brief moment, then relented.  “Yeah. Yeah, she did.”

“Hah.  No wonder you’re so on-board; you never could put up with tears for long.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true.  So many little shits from Snowdin owe you their lives.  Any proper sentry would’ve dusted them for breaking the law, but no, not you; they bawled their eyes out about how much their home life sucks, and you just growled something nasty and patted them on the head and sent them to Grillby’s.  And he would make them wash dishes and give them food.”

“They were kids, Undyne.”

“They were teenagers and plenty old enough to know not to paint obscene messages on the town bulletin board.  At the very least, a night cooling their heels in lockup would’ve done a few of them some good.”

“Hey, I stopped them when I saw them.”

“Yeah, and how often was that?  Once a month? I swear, you spent more time sleeping on that job than you did actually working.  At least you’re better at keeping an eye on things now, right?”

“Uh, right.”

“Sans…”

“I caught those kids going up the mountain a few weeks back, didn’t I?”

She sighed.  “Yeah, I guess you did.  But that doesn’t give you an excuse to start slacking off again!  When you’re back in business, of course.”

He relaxed against the back of the seat as they pulled in the driveway.  Undyne reached over and put two fingers on his skull to bring him through the wards, then cackled when he brushed her hand away.  “How long’ll it be ‘till I’m back in business, then, doc?  It’s not like injuries stopped us from working before.  It’s all sitting, mostly.”

“Yeah, but we don’t want your dear baby brother finding you at work; anything he’d do would be “on duty” technically, and he is your - ugh! - "boss."  Nope, you’re staying here with Frisk until your emancipation goes through, then we’re finding you another place.”

There were worse things, he decided.  Even if the couch was a bit lumpy.

[bloomsoftly]

an unexpected gift

happy birthday, @idontgettechnology! ❤️❤️❤️

i hope this day is everything you wanted and more. you deserve only the best. ❤️

pairing: steve/darcy (as if i’d write you anything else!) word count: 5,287 (it got a little out of hand. sorry not sorry) rating: m

Nat lingered in the conference room after the mission debrief. Steve eyed her with caution, like prey watching a predator. She never did anything by accident, and he knew that if she was waiting until everyone else had left, it was because she wanted to speak to him alone. Whether or not that was a good thing for him, he didn’t know. Her expression didn’t give him any clues; it was perfectly blank, as always.

Tony and Clint sent him knowing looks as they passed, but didn’t try to save him. They’d been on the receiving end of Natasha’s talks more than a few times themselves. So much for team solidarity, Steve thought to himself wryly. Once everyone was gone, Nat cocked a hip against the table. She didn’t say anything, and neither did he. Instead, Steve crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down, waiting. The only sound in the room was the faint thud as she tapped a file against her thigh. His gaze was drawn to it curiously, and he knew he’d played directly into her hand when she grinned and stood upright.

“I have something you might find of interest,” she purred, tossing the file onto the table between them. He resisted the urge to look.

“Nat, if this is another futile attempt to set me up on a date—” It was a useless waste of her talents and efforts, though he hadn’t told her why. He hadn’t told anyone why their matchmaking wouldn’t work, that his heart was already taken. Steve hadn’t even told the woman who’d stolen it.

“I’m helping you, yes. But this isn’t futile. I finally figured you out.” With that ominous little statement, she pushed the file toward him. Against his will, Steve’s eyes dropped to the top of the page, where a glossy photograph was featured. He knew that long, curly brown hair, those beautiful blue eyes, the full red lips. His jaw dropped. How did she know—

Too late, he remembered himself and tried to school his expression. He glanced up at Natasha, and knew he’d been caught. She looked very much the cat who’d caught the canary. “Hmm. That’s what I thought.”

Steve shoved the file away forcefully. “Why are you showing me Miss Lewis’ confidential employee file, Natasha? That’s beyond inappropriate.”

She pushed it back toward him with an exasperated sigh, tapping a bright red nail at a short line of text near the top. “I’m not trying to spill any of Darcy’s secrets, Steve. Well,” she amended, lips curving into a sharp smile, “not any big ones, anyway. Look here.”

“It’s her birth date,” he observed slowly, not catching on. Then he did a double take. “But that’s next week?” Hurt colored his tone. “Did she say anything to you about it?”

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’. “She hasn’t said anything to anyone, though presumably Foster knows.”

“But why?” he asked. His mind was whirling with possibilities, ways he could finally work up the nerve to show her how he felt. He’d been dancing around it for months, really, and hadn’t ever found the courage. But for her birthday, well…

“She probably didn’t want anyone to make a big deal out of it.” Her comment took the wind right out of his sails. She was right, of course. “Knowing Tony, he’d probably throw an overpriced, gaudy party where everyone was incredibly uncomfortable and drank too much. That’s not really Darcy’s thing.”

Steve nodded absentmindedly, acknowledging her point. Nothing showy, then. But perhaps there was another way he could make her birthday special, and let her know how he felt. He’d never been known for his subtlety, but perhaps it was time to brush up on that skill. With an amused quirk of her lips, Natasha interrupted his strategic assessment of ways to proceed with his newfound knowledge. “Let me know if you need any help.” And then she was gone, sauntering out the door as if they’d never talked at all.

Steve wandered through the hallway toward the elevator, moving on autopilot. His mind was already immersed in various plans, formulating and discarding various approaches until he settled on one he liked.

“FRIDAY,” he said, directing his gaze toward the ceiling out of habit. “I need some supplies.”

(read more link here)

-:-

Darcy’s birthday week was off to a crappy start. Not that anyone knew her birthday was coming up. No one but Jane, anyway, but most of the time her best friend didn’t even know what month it was. But that didn’t keep Darcy from getting grumpy when someone stole her special smoothie out of the fridge. It was labeled DARCY in big bold letters—in sharpie, no less—so she knew that someone had seen that it was hers and snatched it anyway. It was an incredibly frustrating, no-good, terrible beginning to her Monday.

Her birthday was generally a bad time of year, which was why she hadn’t told anyone about it. There were too many memories—of aging in the foster care system, the years of no phone calls and no cards—for it to be a generally happy occasion. Most people didn’t understand that, though, so she just didn’t say anything at all. But she did tend to be more emotional during that week, like she was constantly walking around underneath a storm cloud.

Which was probably why she felt like strangling whoever had stolen her smoothie, even though it wasn’t particularly difficult to make a new one. Realizing that she didn’t have time to make herself a new drink and get to the lab on time, Darcy’s mood darkened considerably. With a scowl, she slammed the refrigerator door a little harder than necessary. The loud thud it made was strangely satisfying, even if it made Sam and Steve stare at her curiously from the other side of the kitchen. She hadn’t even seen them come in. Part of her was embarrassed about throwing a tantrum in front of her crush, but she shook it off.

Steve’s smile was gentle, if a little cautious. “Is everything alright, Darce?” Sam looked down at his phone and walked away with an apologetic shrug. He must’ve gotten a call, though she hadn’t heard it ring.

With a heavy sigh, she let some of her grumpiness fade. She just couldn’t stay mad in the face of that smile. Or that face, or that body. Damn, she really had it bad. “Yeah, I’m okay.” At his skeptical look, she scrounged up a genuine smile. It wasn’t too hard, when he was looking at her so earnestly. “Really. It’s just that someone stole my smoothie, and I don’t have time to make another one.”

He didn’t laugh at her, which she’d half-expected. Part of her wanted to ignore her responsibilities and just stand there and talk to him all day, but a quick glance at the clock had her cursing under her breath. “And now, I’m going to be late anyway,” she said. “I’m sorry, Steve, but I’ve got to run. I’ll catch you later?”

“Sure.” There was a thoughtful look on his face, but she didn’t have time to sit around and analyze it. It was amazing, how every time she spoke he ignored everything else, like every single cell of his being was focused on her. “See you later, Darce.”

The rest of the morning passed in much the same vein, except she didn’t have Steve around to distract her. First—if you didn’t count the smoothie, and she totally did—one of Jane’s hodgepodge machines broke in the middle of running a set of theoretical equations, so they had to do them by hand. And try to fix the machine, but Darcy was pretty sure that was a lost cause. There was only so much duct tape and wrench-banging that one machine could take, and she was absolutely certain they’d passed that limit a long time ago.

Then, there was a minor explosion in Stark’s lab, which somehow traveled through their shared wall and blew out the power on the little mini-fridge that Darcy kept in the lab. Which meant that the lunch she’d prepared the night before was no good. With a grumble to the oblivious-as-usual Jane, she got up and went to pester Stark to buy them for lunch. He owed them, she figured. And he either agreed or didn’t care, because he handed her his credit card and told her to take care of it. It was the first, and probably last, time she’d ever held a credit card with no limit. She wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility, and she felt like the little piece of plastic was burning a hole into her pocket the entire time.

When she got back to the lab, Darcy stopped in her tracks. “Jane. Janie!” Her friend looked up from her equations, blinking owlishly against the light. “Did you see who stopped by?”

There was a smoothie sitting on her desk, along with a note and some….glitter glue?

“Oh. Hey, Darce. Did you go somewhere?” Well, that answered that question. Without answering, she plopped Jane’s lunch down right in the middle of her notes. Ignoring the indignant squeak her boss made as it disrupted her reading, Darcy crept back to her desk warily.

It was definitely one of her smoothies, and it didn’t appear to be booby trapped. She examined it from all angles, in case it was one of the sick traps that Nat liked to leave around sometimes in the name of ‘training.’ But it was free of any malice, and she took a happy sip. It was absolutely perfect, and she kept slurping as she unfolded the note.

It was Clint, the note read. I thought you might be in the mood for some payback. He likes to hang out in the air vents above the common room, if that helps. Just leave his uniform alone, please, in case we get an assembly call. I have it on good authority that glitter is immensely difficult to clean. She traced the lines of Steve’s signature, grinning like an idiot.

“Jane!” she hollered, much louder than necessary. “I’ve got something to take care of. I’ll be back later.”

Several hours later, Clint’s vibrant cursing could be heard on three levels of the tower. His hair and clothing were streaked with purple glitter, and he looked as though he’d spent an entire night out at a Kesha concert. Darcy laughed until her stomach hurt, basking in triumph from the relative safety of the kitchen. She and Steve shared a conspiratorial wink, and Sam gave her a fist bump as she passed by him.

Her birthday week was looking up.

-:-

The next day, Darcy was sure that Clint would find some way to retaliate. But nothing happened in the morning, when she went to get her smoothie (which was miraculously intact in the fridge, and had somehow been left untampered). Sam and Steve were in the kitchen, and gave her matching looks of confusion. ‘Clint,’ she mouthed, pointing a finger toward one of the vents.

Sam laughed outright, but Steve tried valiantly to keep a straight face. As if she couldn’t see his shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth. In a normal pitch, he allayed her fears. “He’s not up there, Darce, don’t worry. He’s not anywhere within earshot, either.”

“Oh, good.” She sank dramatically against the counter. “Don’t get me wrong, Steve, I’m so, so grateful for the idea of glitter glue.” Sam turned to his friend in surprise; clearly the good Captain hadn’t confided in everyone about his part in Darcy’s mischief-making. Whoops. “But now I keep worrying that he’s going to pull his revenge whenever I least expect it. I’m kind of afraid to go to work, to be honest.”

At that, Steve sat up straight in his chair. Well, straighter. Captain America didn’t slouch, and neither did Steve Rogers. Sometimes she wondered whether he was still getting used to his new body, even after all these years. “You don’t need to worry about Clint. I’ll keep him outta your hair, I promise.”

Even though she had no idea why Steve would go out of his way to do that—they were friendly, and Darcy was obviously nursing her Hulk-sized crush, but they’d never been besties—she took him at his word. Steve was a troll, with a dry sense of humor that not everyone understood, but he wasn’t a liar.

“Thank you!” she exclaimed, moving around the breakfast bar to press a bright red, smacking kiss to his cheek. He froze, and she began to panic. What if she’d accidentally overstepped some unspoken personal space boundary he liked to keep? At this point, discretion was the better part of valor, so she snagged her smoothie and fled from the room. “See you later, boys!” Sam was laughing again, and Steve didn’t say anything at all.

Despite the awkwardness of the encounter, Steve kept his word. Darcy went throughout her day without suffering any revenge from Clint. Not that she was thinking about the archer much. No, she’d been thoroughly distracted when she’d arrived at the labs to find a large vase of flowers and a coffee waiting for her. She recognized the logo of her favorite local coffee shop immediately, and a quick sip confirmed that it was her usual order.

Twisting the paper cup in her hands, she saw that the name assigned to the order was the birthday girl, written in the barista’s familiar loopy scrawl. With her heart pounding in her ears, she kept turning the cup, looking for some kind of message to indicate who had sent it. There was nothing, and no note was left with the flowers, either.

Perhaps Jane—Darcy turned to look at her friend, who was sprawled out across the lumpy couch on the far side of the lab, snoring lightly. No, it definitely wasn’t Jane. But she was the only one who knew about Darcy’s birthday. Except Nat, probably, because Nat knew everything. But she wasn’t the type to give a girl flowers and coffee for her birthday. Throwing knives and lessons on how to choke a man out with her thighs, maybe.

Acknowledging that she lived in a tower full of spies and superheroes, Darcy shrugged the mystery off. Glancing back at her friend’s prone form, she kicked her feet up onto the desk and took a long sip of her unexpected gift. She’d earned a minute or two to savor it before waking Jane and starting their day.

When Nat swung by later that day, she stared at the flowers appraisingly. The quirk of her eyebrow gave away her surprise, and Darcy crossed her off the list of potential gift-givers. For a moment she thought that Nat wouldn’t say anything about the flowers at all, but then she murmured, “Asiatic lilies. Hmm.”

“Is that what they are?” Darcy asked, reaching up to stroke one of the soft petals reverently.

“Mhmm. Pretty, aren’t they?”

“They’re beautiful,” she corrected, missing the secretive smile that crossed the spy’s face at her words.

That evening, Darcy shifted things around in her bedroom so that the vase had a spot of honor on her bedside table. This was already shaping up to be one of the best birthdays she’d ever had, and she still had two days to go.

-:-

On Wednesday, there weren’t any little treats waiting for her in the lab.

She stifled a pang of disappointment, telling herself that it was spoiled and awfully entitled of her to expect something every day. The flowers and the coffee were sweet enough, she told herself. And they were; they were incredibly sweet and kind, and she wanted to thank whoever had given them to her with a giant hug.

Shaking it off, Darcy went about her day as usual. She and Jane poured themselves into their research, only coming up for air to inhale their lunch before they were right back at it. Tony stopped by at one point to debate the theoretical physics behind some experiment he was working on, but for the most part they were by themselves for the entire day. It was nice. She and Jane knew how to move around each other, like two planets in orbit that worked in tandem but never collided.

At one point, Jane paused in the middle of dictating an equation to exclaim, “Oh my god, Darcy!”

Used to these kinds of tangents, she didn’t even look up from the computer. “Yes? I’m right here, Jane.”

“You’re birthday is tomorrow,” Jane declared, pointing at the calendar accusingly.

Darcy blinked slowly, and finally looked up from the monitor. “It is.”

Abandoning work altogether, her friend stared at her. “And what are you going to do to celebrate?”

With a sigh—they’d had this conversation too many times over the years—she answered, “The same thing I do every year. Go to work, make sure the world doesn’t end, order takeout for the two of us, and cuddle up on the couch to eat ice cream while we laugh and cry at romantic comedies.”

“Hmm. I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Jane’s voice was quiet but clear, and she didn’t even seem to notice that she’d said anything at all. Her eyes were already gravitating back to the data they were transcribing.

Feeling small and alone, Darcy asked, “Are you abandoning me?”

It was Jane’s turn to blink. Immediately, her best friend’s arms were around her, gripping tight. “No! No, Darcy. I would never do that.” She wanted to ask why Jane would say something like that then, but decided against it. There were some things she was better off not knowing.

The rest of the day passed at a snail’s pace, and Darcy was seriously considering begging off work early with a headache when they were interrupted by FRIDAY.

“Miss Lewis, I have been asked to inform you that you have several packages waiting outside your apartment.” What?

“Do you know who they’re from, FRIDAY? I’m not expecting any deliveries.” Bewildered, she turned to Jane—as if Jane of all people would know whether Darcy had binge-ordered herself things while she was drunk—but her boss was lost in her work. Again.

“It is my understanding that they’re birthday gifts, Miss Lewis.”

“Shit. Umm, okay. I’ll be right there. Jane—”

“Go.” Her friend waved a hand at her, but didn’t look up from her notes. “Take the rest of the day off, and go deal with your presents. I can’t wait to hear what you got.”

There was a suspicious smile lurking at the corner of her friend’s mouth. “They’re not from you, are they?”

Jane blinked up at her. “Darcy, I just realized it was August. I’m waiting for you to leave so I can start shopping without you staring over my shoulder. Go. Go!”

She went. And was shocked to see a sizable pile of perfectly-wrapped presents sitting outside her door. It took two trips for her to get them all inside. Once they were sitting on her table, arranged haphazardly so they’d all fit, she found the courage to ask, “FRIDAY, who are these from?”

“I’m afraid I’ve been asked not to tell you, Miss Lewis.”

“Of course you haven’t. But—it’s someone I know, right? Someone we trust?”

Darcy would’ve sworn the AI sounded amused when it answered, “Yes, Miss Lewis.”

“Alright, then.” Picking a package she unwrapped them all, one by one, until her table was covered with birthday presents. And it was quite a pile, one that had her in tears. Laid out in front of her was practically everything from her Amazon wish list: books that had been on her to-read list forever, a funny doormat for the apartment, leggings with amazing patterns that normally she wouldn’t be able to afford, coffee mugs for the lab (featuring geeky science puns, of course), and even a disco ball. For her and Jane’s crazy dance parties.

With tears in her eyes, she requested, “FRIDAY, will you please tell my anonymous gift-giver thank you? And that I’d really like to know who they are.”

The room was silent for a moment longer, then the AI responded, “I have done so, Miss Lewis.”

Sitting there amongst all her new things, Darcy was overcome with gratitude. “Thank you.”

-:-

Her birthday passed like any other day, except that Jane made a concerted effort to be less grumpy than usual. Not that Darcy would’ve noticed, anyway. She was still riding a high from the day before. From the whole week, really. She wondered if Steve knew how much that smoothie and his little glitter glue suggestion had meant to her. Probably not. The man’s modesty was astounding. Unless you put him in a room with Tony, of course. And then there was her mysterious gift-giver, too. But she would drive herself crazy if she thought about that too hard, so she shoved it away and went on with her day.

Work proceeded as normal, though Jane and Darcy were a lot sillier than usual. They frequently broke into song and dance as they worked, belting out off-key love ballads and musical numbers. They were so loud that Tony banged on the connecting wall, complaining about the noise. That only made them turn the music up louder, drowning everything else out; in their minds, it was revenge for all the months they'd had to listen to the blaring rock he blasted in his workshop.

Darcy felt a stab of remorse when Bruce shuffled by with his hands clapped over his ears, but then the Spice Girls came on, and she abandoned any notion of turning the music down to a more palatable level for their neighbors. Plus it was worth it to witness Jane’s adorable shake and shimmy routine. She loved her best friend, she really did, but the woman had absolutely no rhythm. Not that it stopped either one of them from enjoying themselves.

By the time that Darcy was headed back to her apartment—Jane had sent her home early again, for the second day in a row, which was a birthday miracle in and of itself—she was bright and happy, imbued with the magical power and energy from their six-hour dance party. Even the fact that no gifts were waiting for her outside her apartment door couldn’t bring her down. She’d already gotten so much throughout the week. More than she’d ever expected, really. And now all she wanted to do was bask in the glory of a birthday with no disasters, no world-ending emergencies, and no heartbreak.

Wine sounded good. Wine, and something sweet. With that in mind, she nudged open the apartment door and danced her way to the bedroom. She changed into a comfy t-shirt and one of her new pairs of leggings—it was her birthday, she could wear what she wanted—and headed back to the kitchen to scrounge through her bare pantry. Only to stop dead and stare. How she’d missed it, she didn’t know, but there was a box of cupcakes on the table. One was sitting on top, perfectly arranged with a lit candle. A bottle of wine stood proudly next to the box, and her heart skipped a beat. As she stepped closer, she could see that hidden behind the food and drink was another present.

A white envelope sat on top, and she carefully set it aside. After all this time of wondering, she realized she wasn’t quite ready to spoil the mystery. Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the ribbon that held the wrapping together, and she carefully pulled it apart. It was one of those luxury bath sets: the kind she’d always wanted to try but couldn’t ever justify spending her money on.

With her heart in her throat, she opened the envelope. It was unmarked, still white and pristine and not giving anything away. As she opened the card, her eyes immediately jumped to the signature. She recognized the handwriting, first. Her breath caught in her lungs, and her pulse pounded in her ears. Fighting the urge to pinch herself, Darcy forced her eyes up to read the handwritten message.

Darcy,

I hope you’ve enjoyed your birthday so far. You deserve to be celebrated, sweetheart.

Steve

Her gaze was stuck on the loops and curls of her name, written so beautifully in his precise penmanship, but she managed to say, “FRIDAY, will you please ask Steve to come to my apartment? If he’s free, I mean.”

The response was immediate, and Darcy wondered if the AI might possibly be a bit of a matchmaker at heart. “I have done so, Miss Lewis. Captain Rogers is on his way to you now.”

“Great. Please let him in when he gets here.”

At a loss for what to do until he got there, she investigated the cupcake. Gently blowing out the candle, she swiped a finger through the frosting and brought it up to taste. It was champagne frosting, and she moaned, closing her eyes in bliss.

“Happy birthday, Darcy,” a low voice said behind her, and she spun in place. Her finger was still covered with frosting, and she felt like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Thank you,” she said, awkwardly bringing her finger back up to her mouth to finish it off. His stepped closer, eyes shining with something she was terribly afraid to misinterpret.

“You missed a spot,” he murmured, reaching out to gently wipe his thumb against the corner of her mouth. Before he could pull away completely, she turned her head and captured it with her mouth. Staring up at him, worried that she might be ruining everything, she swirled her tongue through the frosting until it was all gone.

His pupils were blown and wide, and he stepped closer. He looked like he’d been sucker punched, but his hand was gentle as it turned to cup her cheek. Pulling his thumb from her mouth, she held his hand in place against her face and closed the distance. Rising her tiptoes, she pressed a tender kiss to his mouth. It was sweet and gentle, and he immediately responded in kind. They were silent and careful as they explored each other with timid grace. Her body began to shake lightly, from suppressed emotion and the effort of keeping herself so close yet separate from him.

Pulling away, she licked her lips and memorized the taste of Steve’s kiss. Happy and content, she realized that he was frozen in place. Doubts swirled through her brain—had she misread him? After a moment of awkward silence, Darcy gathered the courage to ask, “Should I be apologizing right now?”

His gaze snapped to hers, and his thumb came up to rub along his lower lip. It was an absent-minded motion, and she wasn’t sure whether he even knew he was doing it. “No! No, Darcy, not at all. I just—I mean—was it just a thank you? Or—”

Oh.

“No,” she confessed, licking her lips.  Arousal spiked in her gut when his eyes dropped to her mouth, following the path of her tongue. “No, not unless you mean thank you for letting me do something I’ve imagined for months, because I could hardly think about anything else—” Her rambling was cut off by the frantic press of his mouth against hers. The touch was electric, and she sank into his hard body with a gasp. He seized the opportunity to tangle his tongue with hers, stroking and sliding until she thought her knees might actually give out.

And then his hands were there, one tangled in her hair and the other sliding along her back, gripping her shirt and hauling her closer to him. His arm around her back was like a scorching band of steel, burning her through the flimsy cotton of her t-shirt. She was weightless against him, floating with the sensation of his kiss, his body surrounding hers. The hand tangled in her hair gave a gentle tug, tilting her head back so that he could slide his mouth down to nip and nibble at the soft skin below her jaw and down her throat.

Her hands came up to grip at his hair, to clutch at the strong muscles of his back. He explored her throat with single-minded thoroughness, and she moaned as his mouth found the spot that made her vision white out and her toes curl. Arching against him, she couldn’t focus on anything but the scrape of his teeth against her skin and the soothing slide of his tongue that followed. Her gasping breaths were harsh against the silence of the room, and she could feel him grinning against her throat.

With a sharp tug of her hand in his hair, she forced his mouth back up to hers. She threw herself into the kiss, expressing months of feelings—unrequited, she’d thought, the idiot, they’d wasted so much time—and it was his turn to groan out loud. His hands dropped to her hips, gripping and lifting until she was wrapped around his waist and grinding into him. And holy shit, she’d never realized how sexy that supersoldier strength was. She’d never let her fantasies get this far. Which was good, because reality was better.

The need for air had her breaking away, but she couldn’t bring herself to separate from him completely. Still wrapped around him, rocking her hips into his, she pressed tiny, fluttering kisses against his mouth. It was his turn to mutter confessions against her mouth, soft and low, meant only for her. “I’ve been dreaming of this for so long,” he said, eyes closed and voice shaking with emotion. “Never let myself think about getting this far.” He broke off with a low moan—the roll of her hips had hit the perfect spot, giving them both that delicious friction, the kind that robbed them of words.

With gentle hands, Steve freed her legs and slid them back down to the floor. His kisses grew softer, gentler, slowing down the breakneck speed with which they’d come together. She followed his lead—if they came together the way she wanted them to, she wanted it to be a conscious decision. She didn’t want to get caught up in the tide, swept away in pleasure only for them to regret it later. His thoughts mirrored hers, and his hands rubbed soothing circles into the small of her back.

“What are your plans for the rest of the evening?” he asked, staring down at her with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Well…” she whispered, casting about for a way to ask for what she wanted. Her eyes fell upon the gift basket resting innocently on the table. “I got these really amazing gifts for my birthday, to help me relax and enjoy myself in the bathtub. But,” she added with a pout, “I don’t have anyone to wash my back.”

His eyes darkened considerably, and a sexy grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. “I’m so sorry to hear that, sweetheart. I’m sure you could find a volunteer, if you asked.” Her gut twisted at the endearment; she wondered if her heart would ever stop pounding when he talked to her with such sweet heat. She wanted to have the chance to find out. No more games.

“Steve,” she said, dropping the coquettish act. “I want you. Do you want me?”

His voice was husky and raw as he looked down at her, and his lips were red and kiss-swollen. “More than anything in the world, Darce.” Without tearing his eyes away from hers, he reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head in one smooth motion. “I’m yours. However you want me.”

[jae-bummer]

My Idol: Part Ten

My Idol From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

My Idol is a South Korean competitive reality dating game show. It currently airs on Wednesday nights on Jae-bummer’s blog. First broadcast in 2016, the show offers the opportunity for a lucky fan to go on seven blind dates with seven idols. The idol plans the date with the show throwing in specific missions to complete during the day. At the end of the initial dates, the show opens up an audience vote to decide what three idols will move on to the second date.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22

Top walked along silently beside you for awhile, his hands tucked behind his back, locked at the wrists. You noticed out of your peripherals that his gaze was more directed toward you than the expensive paintings adorning the walls. Every now and again you would return his  attention with a glance, causing him to give you the smallest smile before he looked away. 

Oh man, was he good at nonverbal flirting. 

You felt your feet come to a pause in front of an open doorway leading to another exhibit. You took in a short intake of breath, frozen in your spot. 

“What are you thinking?” Seunghyun’s smooth voice growled, only inches away from your ear. You tried not to tense at his sudden appearance, but found yourself so in awe of the sight that you could hardly recognize his presence. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, stepping gingerly into the room. “We are allowed in here...aren’t we?”

“We’re allowed anywhere we please,” Top chuckled. “I’m one of the main patrons of this museum. If we wanted to visit the employee break room they would oblige.” 

You nodded shortly as you wandered in, taking in the completely immersive exhibit. Silk and organza fabrics of various colors and sizes hung from the ceiling, draped in every direction. Different lengths and various translucencies cast colored shadows across the walls and floor. 

“This is a site-responsive exhibit,” Top whispered, taking the opposite route into the room that you had. “It’s meant to be an environmental sculpture, and a painting in a space.”

“Like...like the artist wants us to step into a painting,” you whispered, careful to not to disturb any of the fabrics around you. 

“I think that was exactly the intent,” Top nodded. “A portal into a painting.”

“Mission,” Sweaty grunted, standing directly between you and Seunghyun. Seunghyun immediately shot the camera man a hostile glance before snatching the envelope from his hands. 

“So much for immersive,” he grumbled, his slender fingers ripping at the edge of the envelope and pulling out the mission card. 

“Live in art. Remain still for five minutes inside of this living painting as guests pass. You may not speak or move. Break this rule and suffer the penalty.”

You pursed your lips, looking over to the camera men. They seemed just as unenthused as you were as you redirected your gaze back to Top. 

“Five minutes?” he whispered, lifting a brow. 

Armpit grunted in response. Sweaty rolled his eyes before pulling out his cell phone. “We’ll start in five...four...three...”

By the time he said two, Top had crossed the room in two bounds and landed before you. He set his hands lightly on your arms, a small grin on his lips before his expression straightened again. 

“One.”

You both froze in place, Top’s hands gripped your arms and his face stared intently at yours. Your mouth was slightly ajar and eyes wide, caught in surprise at his sudden movement. Top’s lips were locked, a proud smirk tugging at the corners. His eyes were calmed, almost challenging you as he continued his gaze. You felt your face begin to heat with his attention. You mentally attempted to calm yourself, the situation being far too much for your already frail mental stability to handle. 

The minutes passed as if you were caught in a time lapse, becoming performers of your own in this strange situation. People passed by, some pointing to your stone-like demeanor, other simply staring a little bit longer than necessary. You suddenly felt your chest fill up with guilt, realizing you were becoming the focus in this room, and not the tireless work of the artist who had created the realistic brush strokes around you. 

Top’s pupils shook, searching your face in silence as you thought, not breaking your own eyes from his. He was incredibly handsome, even as close as you two were. You could see nearly ever pore and freckle the man had and you were still interested. 

“Time’s up,” Armpit hissed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as Top’s hands fell to his sides. 

“Sorry,” he hummed. “I couldn’t bare to think about wasting five minutes not looking at you.”

“Seunghyun,” you chuckled, shaking your head. He was ridiculous. 

He grinned, wiggled his brows, and slipped his hand into yours. “Come, we have so much more to see.”

You attempted to catch your breath as you climbed up what seemed to be the dozenth staircase of the day. 

“I have one more thing to show you...if you have the energy,” Top chuckled, waiting patiently alongside the banister. You nodded, heaving another breath as you lifting a finger into the air to signal him to wait just one more moment. 

“I need...to start...working out,” you hissed between breaths. 

“No amount of work outs can prepare the human body for an unforgiving set of stairs,” Top smiled, rubbing you lightly on the shoulder. “But I promise you’ll really appreciate this last exhibit.” 

You nodded, standing up straight from your crouched position. You ran your palms on your jeans and nodded, signaling him to lead you to whatever surprise the last exhibition boasted. 

“Seunghyun,” you gasped, pausing in the doorway of this room just as you had with the exhibit earlier. 

“Come in,” he grinned, walking into the room. “Take a seat, please.”

The room you had entered was entirely made of glass windows, painting the most gorgeous view of the city you had ever seen. In the middle of the room was a small table, set up with a bottle of wine and candles. You had never seen something more romantic in the entirety of your existence. 

You walked up slowly to the table where Top was waiting. As you began to sit, he carefully pushed in your chair behind you, draping a napkin across your lap before moving to his side of the table. 

“I wasn’t aware this was a museum and dining experience,” you chuckled, looking at the small slip of paper on the table outlining your lunch. 

“It’s not usually,” Top smiled, looking approvingly over the paper as well. 

“Mmm patron perks,” you nodded, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Does it sound arrogant?” he laughed, setting down the slip of paper and setting his chin on top of his intertwined fingers. He tilted his head to the side as he looked warmly across the table at you. “I really don’t mean to sound so self-important.” 

You shook your head quickly, setting down your paper as well. “Not arrogant.” You sucked in your lip, choosing your words carefully. “Experienced perhaps...maybe a tad bit of superiority, but not necessarily in a negative way.”

“You can act superior in a positive way?” he coughed, his eyes wide. He leaned back in his chair and shook with silent laughter. “Please enlighten me.”

“You appreciate the finer things, the smallest details,” you continued. “But you don’t take them for granted. You realize how privileged you are.”

Top nodded solemnly, the small smile returning to his lips. “You know it wasn’t always this way.”

Your eyes lingered on Top, only looking away once a man appeared, seemingly from no where, beside your table. Without saying a word, he uncorked the wine that had been chilling in the bucket, and poured. He nodded once he had finished, exiting in the door that you and Top had entered. 

“You’re a BigBang member,” you sighed, reaching to grip your wine and take a small sip. You hissed as the flavor hit your tongue. It was nothing like the cheap wines you had survived on during rough weekends. The taste seemed to transcend your lowly pallet and effect your senses almost immediately. 

“It’s not as glamorous as it sounds,” Top said quietly, taking a sip from his wine as well. He smacked his lips lightly before setting it down again. “It was a grueling journey to get here. There was too much heartbreak. But I am here now...so I honestly can’t complain. 

Plus, who could with a woman like you sitting across from them?”

The meal went along pleasantly enough, filled with intriguing conversation that varied from art, to music, to Seunghyun’s experiences as a trainee at YG. He was honestly the first idol that you had experienced a date with that dived into his past and what comprised him as a person. The other men you had filmed with, all handsome and kind, were much more focused in the present. That was where their concerns were. Their hopes were set on the horizon, rather than looking back fondly upon it. 

“I’ll be joining the military soon,” Top sighed, taking a long drink from his glass. You had just finished dessert and prepared to wrap up the date. His words caught you off guard, immediately causing you to look up. 

“You will,” you said, more as a confirmation of a statement than a question. 

“In a few months,” he nodded. “Almost as soon as My Idol finishes filming.”

“That seems incredibly soon,” you whispered, looking down at your hands folded on the table cloth. Top slid forward, resting his strong hands on top of your more frail ones. You were comforted by his touch, mildly uncertain as to why you were so alarmed by his words. Perhaps it was because for the first time on this entire show, you felt as if you were connecting with someone on a soul to soul level, rather than as a first impression date. Things had progressed so incredibly quickly with him that you were unsure of how he could’ve affected you so quickly. 

“Mission,” Sweaty sighed, smacking a red envelope on the table. Top glanced up at him, one eyebrow lifted. His fingers carefully strayed to the envelope where he pushed it off of the table. Sweaty grumbled to himself as he leaned over to pick it back up and set it on the table again. 

“Sir, you seem reasonable,” Top said, his voice full of quiet authority. “Now I can make you a very generous offer if you get that ugly red envelope out of my sight.”

“Can’t take bribes,” Armpit grumbled from behind him. 

“If Jay Park can choose not to complete a mission,” Top hissed. “I damn well can make that decision as well.” He flicked the envelope from the table one last time, causing it to slide across the floor and in the direction of the doorway. 

Top shook out his shoulders before readjusting in his seat and setting his palms on your hands again. “So whenever I win this whole thing, you’ll keep in contact with me, won’t you?”

You lifted your eyebrows, shocked by the scene that had just unfolded and his sudden declaration. “I...you...me?”

“You,” he chuckled, his face breaking into a kind and genuine smile. “You are one of the first women that I’ve met in awhile...who has held my attention long enough, to make me completely forget that I’m in dire need of a cigarette.”

You chuckled, looking away from him and at the floor again. You let out a deep breath as his fingers caught your chin, gently guiding your face back to look at him. 

“Say you won’t lose contact,” he smiled. “Tell me you won’t leave me behind.” 

You swallowed, your gulp audible as you stared into Top’s eyes. 

“Please,” he sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You looked toward the cameras once again, lost as to what he expected for your response to be. You heard him chuckle lightly, his fingers once again finding your jaw and caressing it gently to make you focus on him. 

“It’s just you and I,” he hummed. 

And millions of viewers.

And two camera men with over active sweat glands.

And the overzealous wait staff who were hovering near the door. 

“I hate to give away the ending,” he whispered, his voice low but full of confidence. “Spoiler alert, that will be the finale as well. Just you and I. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

You inhaled quickly, your eyes incapable of leaving his. All of the men you had met so far had hoped to make the second dates, assuring you that they would be the ones to win this twisted reality program. You had never expected to take so much stock into the whole situation when you first began, but the seriousness of the situation was now hitting you like a tidal wave. 

“I...I...” you stuttered, leaning back. “I...I don’t know.”

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 -  Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12- Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22

[inspirationallyinsane]

November 28 2019

Tumblr! Hi. It has been too long since I have written, and much has changed. I figured today might be a good day for an update considering it is a holiday and also I had the day off work :) I quit my job at Chase because fuck that place. Um no not really but I was really unhappy there and I didn't get along with my coworkers and my manager was a mysoginistic asshole. It wasn't a great environment. I was up for promotion there but Skyler told me I would have to wait until January to get it and I am absolutely not that patient. Especially when, once again, I am the only banker in my branch. I was doing the job of the RB without having the proper compensation or title. They sent me all the way to Phoenix, AZ to get training so I could be put in the position faster and then I'm told to wait months? I don't think so. If that were the case I should have waited to do the training so I could do it in Oregon. It was incredibly irritating. And everyone else quit. All the tellers quit and both the other bankers quit. Obviously it wasn't a good environment for anyone. At the end, for a full month before I quit, it was just me, the manager, and the teller manager. Unacceptable. I'm not having it. I don't understand why my manager didn't hire people faster. As soon as I gave my two weeks he was suddenly able to hire 3 people. In one week. Hmmmmm. Seems like it could've been done sooner then. Right? Oh well. Chase was an experience. I learned more about what I don't want from a job. Onward and upward. Of course, I couldn't quit without having another job lined up. I applied for a few jobs back in September. I heard back about a position I thought in no way would I ever get. Although I also heard back about a branch manager position which I am also completely unqualified for. So. It's an employee's market. Anyway. I applied for a Licensed Relationship Manager position at Key Bank. Basically in the position you hand small investment portfolios and client's banking needs. A sort of introduction into being an FA while still working mainly with bank products. However, it does mean that the person in that position gets fully licensed. Umm so I did a phone interview while I was in phoenix and as soon as I got back they brought me in for an interview with the branch manager. Next day I get a call saying they want to give me the job. I got a huge pay increase, and will get another one once I finish my licensing. The incentive pay will be similar to what I would have gotten as an RB at Chase, and??? To get licensed and be working with portfolios at 21?? Awesome. I was so hyped. I really couldn't believe that I got the job. It was definitely a stressful transition. The position is in Medford and I didn't want to commute so we had to move. Finding a decent place in Medford for a decent price is ridiculous. I ended up finding a good place albeit a little expensive. I can definitely afford it with the raise and all but. Don't like how much the rent is. It is super nice though. Um it is brand new, no one has ever lived here before. And all the appliances are new and modern. Real hardwood floors (although it is light wood and I do prefer darker wood). The bedrooms are a little small but overall it is much larger than the other house. It has an open layout with lots of windows and natural light. I have an enormous bathroom (two sinks!!!) and a huge walk-in closet that I absolutely adore. I mean. I've never had a closet like this. It's my dream. And so far it has been a great place. We'll see how I feel after paying rent for the first time on 12/1 but. I actually got to unpack everything and there's only like two more boxes. It was a bit of a pain to get here. Trent and I had to work out a situation where he could come with me and that took a lot of conversations and arguments but we made it here together. Which is cool. And then obviously all the packing and planning and preparing?? Stressful. We did get to have movers, so moving the furniture wasn't as much of an issue. And!!! I got to have a ton of old stuff we didn't want taken to goodwill so no more useless shit around the house. Love that. So. It all worked out. Starting a new job is always rough for me. My new manager did lie to me a little bit about the training program. In the interview I asked what it would be like starting and she told me directly that I would be working with customers on my first day. Which turned out to just be a flagrant lie. I was in teller training for my first two weeks. Two weeks. Teller. Wtf. No. So I finished all the online stuff on my first day and then just sat and read the NYT for two weeks. Literally. Except for one call every day from 11:00-12:30. In which I sat and half listened, and mostly read the NYT. I did enjoy reading though. I read all of the ethicist articles and went back through 2013 on the social q's articles. I think that I enjoyed social q's more, but probably just because I disagree with so many things the ethicist says. Also?? The ethicist acts more like an advice columnist (like social q's) whereas he is supposed to be talking about the ethics of the given situation. Not what you should do for the best outcome for you, but what the ethical ramifications/solutions would be. So. Um but I learned a lot and was thoroughly entertained by the utter nonsense people write in. People are wild. I must tell you. But I was still bored and felt tortured. Next week I have to drive up to Portland for the entire week (Mon-Fri) and do my banker training. So dumb. The other day I full ass opened an account (although I guess I wasn't supposed to) and it went totally fine. Like obviously I know what I'm doing. I don't need to learn the products or the system because I'm actually good enough at my job to do it without knowing every detail. I'm not going to memorize the products here because I just end up share, show, and pointing anyway. Like the customer will listen to you yap for about 2 seconds but if you show them a pretty screen that they can look at they will pay more attention. Gonna bring up the product on key.com anyway. So what's the point? I am excited to go to Portland though. I like Portland and I'm staying in a nice hotel and I get to drive instead of fly. And I get to see Jonno which is awesome cuz I haven't seen him in so long. It'll be nice to have a break from my life here I think. I just gets boring and overwhelming. Which you wouldn't think could happen simultaneously, but it can. Ummm what else? The people I work with here are much better than at Chase. So far. The branch is only women, which I love. And they are all relatively nice ladies. A little gossipy for my taste, not so into that. I think it's mostly just the manager though. She lovessss me. I do not know why but she thinks I am God's gift. I mean I knew she felt that way after the interview but she will tell me anything and really lets me do whatever I want. It's fantastic. I can't speak to how competent she is but honestly whatever. As long as it doesn't affect my numbers I don't care. It's not like she's a Nate; throwing tantrums in the office and yelling at customers. Asking me to do her job. Disappearing for hours with no explanation and then acting like nothing happened. Falling asleep at lunch and not coming back without calling or anything. Lmao. After a Nate, I think I could handle a slightly lacking manager. Key Bank is a lot more like US Bank than Chase. There isn't really a dress code and everything is much more casual. The company culture is more diverse and less forced. The training at Chase was much better, not that I needed it in that situation either, but at least the trainers were engaging and interesting. At both Key and US the trainers just blab at you and don't really expect participation. I was kinda interested in being a trainer at Chase cuz they're really cool and they get paid a lot and their lives seem awesome but I would never want to do it anywhere else. Anyway. I don't know. I guess that is the biggest update. Um I also cut all my hair off. I was tired of my look and I wanted a change. So I cut it off and dyed it black. I've always wanted to. I love it. I think it is much more me. I'll post pictures later. My stylist is really cool too. I've never enjoyed going to the salon because the stylists are so chatty and I normally hate them but this is one is really cool. We have a lot in common and she's around my age. So. I'm actually excited to go just to see her. Haha. I don't know. So many changes and yet I don't really feel like anything has changed. I've asked for more changes, I need more changes, but there is only so much I can do myself. I'm a weak person. I don't really know what to say. I have been having a lot of nightmares recently. Sleep has not been good. Which makes life hard for sure. I have nightmares pretty frequently, but more so in the winter than any other time of year. Awful, horrible, terrifying nightmares. Where I wake up and I'm anxious and sad all day. It sucks. I become afraid to sleep. Oddly, it is only night time sleeping when it happens. Because like if I sleep after work or like today, I nap during the day, I don't have the nightmares. It's strange. I wonder why that happens. I guess that's really all. I should write more but my life is boring now and I'm boring now and it just doesn't seem worth much to write about me and what's going on anymore. Recently Jonno asked me what I've been writing and like on a general whole?? Absolutely nothing. I write little poems about this and that here and there but nothing big or important or inspiring. I'm lame, I'm boring. I hung out with Zach the other day for the first time in a while and I felt out of place. My life isn't how it was before. Full of excitement and adventure and intrigue. Even though I was working at a bank and I was working hard I still had interesting things happen and interesting conversations. I wrote so much more when I was having inspiring experiences. Going through my boxes of stuff I found a shitload of poems I wrote at US Bank. Notebooks full. I would write at work. I would write and draw and now? Like yea I read the NYT but I don't produce anything that's my own. It's so much harder now. I have no ideas. That makes me kinda sad. And Trent is just like, if you want to write more, write more. I guess it's not that simple for me. Or maybe it is and I'm just a dumbass who has issues starting things. It is hard to write/say words when you have none left in your head. I don't know. Oh well. Til next time, Tumblr. I hope all my readers are well. If anyone still reads this lol Happy Thanksgiving.