#and breakfast starts in thirty minutes and you haven’t even STARTED prep for it

[theamazingannie]

Anyone who doesn’t think fast food workers deserve to be paid more should be required to work a third shift weekend shift with a skeleton crew the night of a big concert while being one of the only places in town that’s open after midnight

[cheekybabycal]

All a Bad Dream

PART THREE – part one, part two  

Rating: 14+  

TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of abortion

Warnings: swearing, unwanted pregnancy, mentions of alcohol use  

Word count: 3.8k  

Author’s note: I’m back from the dead, but here’s part 3!  It’s about a thousand and something more words than I had originally planned, which is why it took so long. Also, this part was hard to write, and very heartbreaking tbh, and I have a feeling it’s only gonna get worse from here so brace yourselves. Okay, Amanda will shut up now. Enjoy reading :)

Tag list: @calumsfren @it-was-a-lie @bodaciousidiot

The next morning, Y/N wakes up after Calum has already left to go to the studio. She finds his note on the nightstand, stating where he was, that he would be home by 6:30, and that he loved her. Throwing off the duvet, she climbs out of bed, throws on her robe, pulls her hair up into a messy ponytail, and makes her way to the kitchen for breakfast. While she prepares some eggs, she mentally goes through the plans she has for today. She has to find out if she’s actually pregnant sooner or later, and she’d really rather do it sooner.  

Call Aubrey.

Take test.  

Two things. Okay, she can do two things, right? She can at least call Aubrey, that’s her best friend, she can always count on her, right?

Her head is too foggy with thoughts (not good ones, no matter how hard she tries) and she can’t enjoy the food she’s prepared. Frustrated, she picks up her phone as she cleans up her plates, trying to calm her nerves. Dialing Aubrey’s number, she prepares herself for the conversation that’s about to happen. As she waits for her friend to pick up her phone, Y/N decides that there are many worse situations that she could be in, such as an abusive relationship or complete abandonment, and she comes to the realization that she should be thankful for the support that she has, regardless of how Calum may react.

“Hey,”

Y/N snaps out of thought at the sound of her best friend’s voice. This is it. But what if Aubrey decides she doesn’t want to get tangled up with this mess? What if she stops being her friend at all? What if -  

“Hello? Y/N? Girl, you there?”  

Shit, she’s been quiet too long. “Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m here. Hey, Aub,” Y/N quickly responds.

“Hey, everything okay? You seem kinda out of it,” Aubrey’s voice is ringing in Y/N’s head. She’s gotta get it out, and she’s gotta get it out quick. She can’t keep this to herself, not when she’s consistently in doubt of even… She shakes her head.  

“Is… is it a bad time? Are you free right now?”

“Um... ye – yeah I’m free. Okay, you’re scaring me now. What’s going on?” Y/N releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding.  

“Great, I need you to come over. Like… right now. Cal and I’splace. No questions, not now, anyway. I’ll explain everything when you get here,” She talks fast, hoping she doesn’t have to explain much because, truth to be told, she has no idea what the fuck is going on herself. “I just – I just need you to get here.”

Aubrey is hesitant on the phone, and Y/N is so quiet she can hear her own and Aubrey’s breathing.

“... fine,” she finally replies. “I’ll be there in thirty.”

“Oh, my God. Okay, thank you. Oh, and also on your way can you stop by a convenience store and pick up some pregnancy tests? Preferably two different brands. Thank you, Brey, you’re the best.” and with that, Y/N ends the call.  

Holy shit.  

Y/N speed-walks to her and Cal’s bedroom, changing out of her robe and into a simple white tank top, black leggings, and a loose grey cardigan. Then she walks around the house, cleaning up a perfectly clean living room: prepping the couch pillows and dusting the TV bench. She then moves to the kitchen, preparing some tea, placing some cookies out and wiping off the counter. As she runs out of things to do, she starts hyperventilating, pacing around the apartment without a purpose or a specific destination, babbling words to herself mindlessly as she waits for Aubrey to arrive. She does anything and everything to keep her mind off what’s to come, thinking of movies and books and pets and literally everything in the world until the light tapping of Aubrey’s knuckles against the door snaps Y/N out of thought.

She throws the door open, pulling her best friend in quickly before shutting it again. Aubrey takes a step into the apartment, dropping the plastic bag that contains what she guesses to be the tests. An uncomfortable stare is held between the two of them until Aubrey breaks it. “Explain,” her voice stern. “Now.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, dropping her gaze to the floor before whispering under her breath. “I... I think I’m pregnant,” she looks up at her friend who’s still staring at her, an unamused look on her face.

“Well, yeah, no shit,” Aubrey rolls her eyes before continuing. “I figured that out when you dropped ‘get pregnancy tests!’ on my lap and then ended the call,” Looking up, she sees the anxious and disheveled look on Y/N’s face and sighs. “Tell me why you think you’re pregnant since you haven’t actually taken the test.”

Y/N looks up at her friend as she answers. “I’m two and a half weeks late.”

Aubrey’s eyes widen. Two and a half weeks is a lot. A lot more than a normal late period. “But, technically, you’re still not sure so there’s no point of freaking out right now, right?”

Y/N nods once before walking to the kitchen to pour two cups of tea, with Aubrey trailing behind. As they sit and sip, they talk about other things, like school and jobs, and although Y/N knows that this conversation is supposed to be relaxing enough to calm her nerves, it only spikes them up when the thought of school while being pregnant hits her. She stops Aubrey mid-sentence.  

“Sorry, Brey, but... I, I think I’m ready. You know... to take the test,” her voice showcases her lack of confidence, and all Y/N wants to do is melt into the ground. Aubrey smiles before nodding and stands up from the stool to walk over to where the boxes lay on the counter. Picking one box up, she turns to her friend. “I got you two different brands, as requested. And each box has two tests in it so you have four different tests you could take.”

Y/N shakily reaches for the box Aubrey is holding, her fingers tracing the light blue colour of the logo. Sensing her discomfort, Aubrey places a hand on her shoulder and squeezes it gently. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“I don’t know. Can you stand outside the door? I want you to check it, if you’re okay with that.”

“Of course,” Aubrey replies, her voice calm. Y/N picks up the second box as she moves towards the hallway, not stopping until she’s in the bathroom – in fear of backing out the last second. Turning around to Aubrey, who stands on the other side of the threshold, she nods before pushing the door shut. Here she goes.  

Ripping open the blue box, Y/N takes one of the tests out, reads the instructions, and does as told. Immediately after pulling her pants up and setting the test on the sink counter (flipped over, of course. She doesn’t wanna glimpse at it accidentally), she opens the door to let Aubrey in.  

“How long does it say it needs?” Aubrey asks as she steps into the bathroom.

“Two minutes,” the words come out quick and scratchy. She can’t recognize her own voice. Clearing her throat, she tries again. “It needs two minutes.”

Aubrey sits on the edge of the tub and takes a deep breath before pulling out her phone and setting a timer for two minutes. In front of her, Y/N continues to pace. Neither of them says a word as they wait.  

The only sound Y/N can hear is her own heart pounding in her ears. Who the fuck would think two minutes could feel like two centuries?

So she paces back and forth, trying to – unsuccessfully – calm herself down. Maybe a baby wouldn’t be the worst thing on the planet...

No, it would be.  

At this time, it would be.  

To her horror, the timer goes off.

Y/N stops pacing and turns around to Aubrey, who stands up and turns the timer off. Slowly moving towards her, Aubrey speaks reassuring words to Y/N, noticing that she is starting to panic.  

“Hey, listen to me. No matter what that test says, I want you to know that you are not alone. I don't give a shit what Calum says, I’m talking about me. And your mom, and my mom, and my sister. There are literally so many people who will be here when you need them, so don’t panic, okay?” She says as she grabs the test and holds it behind her. “You’ll be okay. Now, do you want me to see the results?”

Y/N wipes a tear from her eye and takes a deep breath, her voice shaking when she replies, “I don’t know. I – I’m scared.”  

“Y/N, whatever decision you make regarding the answer, I’ll be right here. I know you’re scared, but let me check what it says first, okay?” Aubrey asks her friend, and Y/N nods hesitantly. Slowly, Aubrey removes the test from behind her and brings it to her eye level, ensuring Y/N can’t see what it says.  

Positive.  

Aubrey can feel her heart start to beat faster, and she releases a breath before asking her friend, calmly, as to not startle her, “do you want me to tell you what it says? Or do you wanna see it?”  

Y/N bites the insides of her cheeks before whispering, “just... just tell me.”

Aubrey takes a deep breath. Looking up at her friend, she says, gently, “honey, it’s positive.”

Y/N can feel the air being knocked out of her chest, and she stumbles backward, her back hitting the wall behind her. Her gaze is blank, her eyes wandering around the bathroom aimlessly as her legs give out and she slides down the wall to the cool tiled floor. This is a bad dream. Fuck, it’s her worst nightmare.  

“Positive,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. Aubrey crouches down beside her and hands her the test slowly and hesitantly, as if the test would physically hurt her best friend. Y/N hands tremble as she reaches to grab the piece of plastic. Ironic, how something so small and weak could have such an effect. Her eyes scan over the two lines, the second one being so clear it’s almost mocking her, whispering, you’re so stupid.  

“I’m gonna be sick,” Y/N mumbles as she throws the test on the ground, shoving Aubrey to the side before moving quickly to the toilet, emptying everything she had eaten throughout the few hours she’s been awake. Aubrey leans behind her, holding her ponytail and rubbing soothing circles on her back. When Y/N finishes, she flushes the toilet, closes the seat, and sits on it, wiping her mouth with a tissue.  

“Well, if you weren't sure before...” Aubrey says with a half-smile, trying to lighten the mood. But Y/N just weakly shakes her head as she stares at the plastic stick on the floor.  

“I’m pregnant.”

As soon as the words are in the air, the reality of the situation hits her, and she breaks down, feeling her whole heart shatter. Her head falls into her hands and she lets out short sobs. She can feel Aubrey looking at her, and she wants to melt. She wants to disappear, right then and there, and forget everything, and be forgotten.  

But she can’t. And she knows that, so she sits there and sobs, and after what feels like hours, Aubrey touches her shoulder and gets her to look up at her. Y/N’s eyes are bloodshot and swollen, and her face is puffy. In short, Aubrey has never seen her friend in a worse state.  

“Hey, you okay?” It’s a stupid question, and Aubrey knows that, but she also knows that Y/N needs this. Whatever this may be.  

Y/N shakes her head before answering, her voice weak and rasped when she does, “I don't know what to do, Brey. I – I can’t, I can’t do this. I have school! Holy shit, I have school!”

“Hey, look at me. You only have, like, three more months of uni. You probably won’t even be showing by the-”

“You don’t know that! I don’t know how far along I am!” Y/N practically yells. She stands up and starts to pace again. “What do I do?”

“Well, everything I said before is still valid,” Aubrey says. “Your family will be here for you, I will be here for you. Also, Calum may react… good... to the news. You never know.”

“Really, Brey? Yeah, he’s just back from his world tour but that’s his life. There’s always gonna be another album, another tour. You really think he’s gonna put everything on pause for, for something we haven’t even discussed?” Y/N’s replies, her voice scratchy. “He won’t want this.”  

Aubrey sits down at the edge of the tub again, unable to come up with anything else to say. She watches as her friend paces back and forth in the small room, her nose red and her eyes tear-stained.

Then, suddenly, Y/N stops pacing and looks at Aubrey, her eyes wide with a realization.  

“I’m gonna get rid of it.”

Aubrey stands up immediately and walks toward her friend before grabbing her shoulders firmly. She looks at Y/N straight in the eyes as she asks, “what the fuck? You can’t be serious.” Y/N nods her head, removes herself from Aubrey’s grip, opens the bathroom door, and walks out. She heads towards the living room to find her phone. “I’m dead serious. Aubrey, I can’t do this. Calum and I can’t do this. So, I’m going to get an abortion, he won’t ever need to know, and, I don’t know. It all just goes away, I guess.”

Aubrey crosses her arms as Y/N starts to scroll on her phone, in search of something. “What are you doing?”  

“Looking for my doctor’s number. I’m making an appointment.”  

Aubrey walks around the table to where Y/N is standing. She snatches the phone from her hand and puts it in her back pocket. “Like hell you are,” Aubrey says before pulling out her own phone. “I’m gonna call my sister. She just had a baby, remember? You’re going to make an appointment with her doctor first. Check to see if everything is alright, and if you still want to go through with the whole abortion thing, then I’m fully supporting you. But right now, you’re making your decision irrationally and because you’re scared. So just chill for a second while I call Adelynn.”  

“Fine. But while you do that,” Y/N says, her arms crossed at her chest. “I’m going to take another test. The first one is wrong. It has to be.”

Y/N grabs the second box off the kitchen counter and heads to the bathroom. This is a fucking nightmare. It can’t be real. She still has school, and she has her whole life ahead of her. And so does Calum.  

Once she gets to the bathroom, she reads the instructions of the box. She’s familiar with what to do, she just took a test 15 minutes ago, but just in case she did the first one wrong, she reads it again.  

Urinate on either the testing stick or into the small plastic cup provided, then dip the stick into the cup for 15 seconds.  

Remove the test and place it on a flat surface.  

Wait 2-3 minutes, then check results.  

Simple enough. She decides to use the cup this time, removing it from the package and doing as told. When she finishes peeing, she places the test inside the cup, sets it on the counter, and washes her hands. She decides that while she waits, she should take the other two leftover tests from each brand. She removes each one of them from the package and places them into the cup as well, then removes them and sets them on the counter next to her phone, on which she sets a timer.  

The two minutes, once again, seem like centuries. She leans over the sink and stares at herself in the mirror. She’s a mess. Her hair has been messed up, and a few loose strands cover her forehead. Her eyes and cheeks are tear-stained, and her nose is red. This isn’t the face of someone who is capable of being a mother.  

Truth to be told, Y/N hasn’t thought about kids. She’s thought enough to know that she doesn't want any in the near future. Or far. She’s never been sure. But this, she never expected.  

The timer goes off, and Y/N takes a deep breath. Collects herself, and glances at the tests.  

Each one displays the appropriate sign for positive as suggested by its diagram. Each one seems to be mocking her louder than the other as her heart begins to race again. She never would think that a small piece of plastic could feel so heavy as she picks one of them up to examine. Really, there’s no point of examining it. The whole situation is almost ironic.  

The weight of the test in her hands drags her down, and her legs give out as she falls to her knees. She already knew that this was gonna be the result. Why is she fucking surprised? She stares at the piece of plastic in her hands, feeling her future slip away, and she cries.  

She feels her heart break over and over again as realization after realization hits her. Her school, her relationship, her family. Everything has been changed because of one mistake. She knows that even if she gets an abortion, she won’t be the same person. She would’ve killed her own child. Nothing can bring her back from that. She’s not sure how long she's been sitting there, hugging her knees to her chest and sobbing quietly, but she hears Aubrey knocking gently before opening the bathroom door and walking in.  

“Hey, hon,” her voice is gentle. “I talked with my sister’s doctor. Her name is Dr. Willis, and she made you an appointment for a week from now, Thursday.” Aubrey grabs some tissues sits down next to her friend, getting her to look up before handing her the tissues. Y/N wipes her eyes and blows her nose. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice thick with tears. “Brey, I’m scared.”  

Aubrey hugs her, letting Y/N sob into her as she rubs circles on her back. “I know,” she can feel her heart breaking for her best friend, and a tear escapes her eye and falls on her cheek. “I know, but it’s okay, you’re okay. You have time to decide what you’re going to do, and who you’re going to tell.” She feels Y/N nod against her before pulling back, wiping her new tears with the sleeves of her cardigan. “Speaking of,” Aubrey continues, “are you going to tell Calum? Like, before you decide whether you want to, you know...”

Y/N starts shaking her head before Aubrey is even finished with her sentence. “I’m not going to tell him. Not until I absolutely have to.” Her voice is shaky with the thought of Calum’s potential reaction. She hopes she doesn’t have to find out. “Aubrey, I don’t think he’ll need to know. I’m not keeping this baby.”

Aubrey’s heart breaks at the sound of her friend considering something so horrific with such certainty. “How about we get you a bit cleaned up,” Aubrey says as she helps Y/N off the floor. “And maybe we can watch a movie? You don’t have to think about – or decide – anything right now. Let’s just get you relaxed.” She collects the tests, all of them, and turns back to Y/N. “Wash your face, take a deep breath, and meet me in the living room. I’m gonna go hide these somewhere in your room. Probably in your school shit, right?” Y/N nods and lets out a breathy chuckle, “yeah, Cal knows not to go through my books.”  

A few minutes later, Aubrey and Y/N have made themselves comfortable on the couch, eating ice cream as Legally Blonde starts to play on the TV. Y/N knows that Calum will be home soon, and she’s not sure what’s going to happen, or how she’s going to react, but right now, she doesn’t care. She just wants to breathe. So, as the movie continues, she tries to relax, leaning into her friend as her worries start to slip away.

All too soon, the credits roll in, the front door opens, and a somewhat drunk Calum stumbles into the apartment. When he catches sight of the two girls on the couch, he lets out a chuckle before mumbling, “oh hey, Aubrey. Didn’t know you’re here. ‘S all good, though.” He walks towards them, planting a kiss on Y/N’s forehead. “Hey, baby. I know ‘m early, but I couldn’t last ‘nother minute in that bar. So… loud.”  

Y/N’s brows furrow. “Why, why were you at a bar? You said you were at the studio in your note.”  

“Was,” Calum sighed as he dropped on the couch next to the one Aubrey and Y/N were sitting on. “The boys got frustrated ‘cause we couldn’t come up with shit. Then we went to the bar to relax, then lost track o’ time.” Calum saw the disappointed look on Y/N’s face. “’M sorry, babe, please don’t be mad. It wasn’t my idea.”  

Y/N sighs before nodding, whispering a quick, “It’s fine,” under her breath. She then turns to Aubrey. “See what I meant? He’s… busy.”  

“I know. Just relax for now. I’ll call you tomorrow, see how you’re doing. And I’ll also see you Thursday?”  

Calum’s head snaps up. “What’s happenin’ Thursday?”

“Brunch,” Y/N says, brushing him off. “Yeah, see you. Thank you so much, Brey. Talk to you tomorrow?”  

Aubrey nods, smiling. She picks up her purse and jacket and heads toward the door. “Bye, hon. Bye, Cal.” She calls as she steps out and shuts the door behind her.  

And just like that, Y/N is alone with Calum. But that’s not nearly as scary as the fact that she’s alone with her thoughts and emotions, and life’s way of getting back at her: her unborn child.

[boogiewrites]

A Girl Walks Into A Bar 2

Characters: Declan Harp x Bella (OFC)

Word Count: 3600+

Summary: Frontier Modern AU. Declan is a bar owner and local urban legend with a reputation he’d like to leave in the past. Bella is a rough around the edges, low key sweetheart that isn’t from his part of town. After meeting with the help of some bad luck and perhaps a touch of fate, how far will their undeniable chemistry take them until their histories catch up with them?

Warnings/Tags: Language.

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

Click on my screenname then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

You lay in your bed for over an hour looking at your phone. You weren't surprised you were having trouble sleeping, the two of you were very old and close friends at this point. With there being a man you barely knew in your living room, just on the other side of the wall you were staring at, you were even less surprised you couldn't sleep.

So you kick off your covers and move quietly to your door, your feet in thick knee socks, wearing leggings and a pulling a large hoodie over you before you click open your door. You peak your head around the corner of the wall, trying not to be obvious.

He's sound asleep, looking entirely unbothered and you found it comforting in a way. At least he felt safe around you, that was something. What you'd give to be able to fall asleep in a strangers house without reservation. But if you looked like him you'd be scared of less too. It's not like you'd learned to defend yourself and worked out just for the vanity of it, after all. From the intimidating vibe the men outside the bar were giving you, you're guessing that he looked the way he did for many of the same reasons.

You see you haven't woken him and when a small snore and grunt make their appearance your nerves ease as you see he has no intention of doing anything besides sleeping and he's apparently doing well in his endeavors currently. You rest your hip against the doorway, watching him.

The night is biting cold, you can feel it creeping into the house from the window, the heater balancing out the warmth of the room. You can see him in the warm orange glow of the light of it, his relaxed face looks soft, despite the hair that covered it and the scar marking his brow. He looked hard but not menacing, which seems like a very difficult thing to achieve for a man looking the way he did. You wouldn't deny he was handsome, how could you? It was the heat that rose to your face when your eyes first met that made you admit it to yourself. You were working on trying to admit when you found a man attractive, having learned too many lessons the hard way in your youth, you now found it hard to trust men. Well, hard to trust just about anyone. You'd buried yourself in your hobbies which turned into a career, keeping your head low, focusing on yourself and being independent of your past. Perhaps you needed to start working on a new phase of accepting new people into your life. This polite and kind man seemed like a decent place to start. His friendship would even come with a bar, and thus even more new people to meet. You weren't sure if you were ready to make new friends, but a part of you knew that you would never be fully ready and perhaps the universe was intervening, making you walk into that bar yesterday to give you a push in a new direction.

You eventually fall asleep, telling yourself this Declan Harp wasn't going to kill you, he wasn't going to try anything in the middle of the night and you eventually grew tired, meditating to tell yourself it was okay to relax enough to fall asleep. And eventually, you did.

You wake up to your work alarm and you groan, smacking at the phone in annoyance. Work? No. Not today. Not after yesterday, not with this snow. You call Karen and tell you aren't coming in. She doesn't seem surprised in the least. Apparently, the weather was bad where she was too, there'd already been cancellations on appointments today so she wasn't worried, it's not like you missed work often anyway.

You still didn't hey nearly enough sleep, but you were used to functioning at this capacity. At just before nine you creak your door open, peaking out just the same as the night before, but now you could see a lamp was on. He'd already put up the bed, bless him, sitting snuggly on the couch with a blanket over him, scrolling through his phone.

You move into his view, running your fingers through your sleep-tousled hair before stretching and tugging back down your hoodie.

"Mornin' Bells." his voice is deep and gritty and sounds like honey being poured over whiskey stones looks. You let out an involuntary grunt as it hits your ears, clearing your throat to cover your reaction.

"Morning, Dec." you grumble, another yawn coming as you walk slowly into the kitchen. You figure if he can already manipulate your name, that you could do that same to his. He doesn't seem to mind as you can feel him watching you walk by.

He doesn't mind the nickname, but he's actually gotten distracted by how you look this morning. It having been dark in the bar and through the night, and you wearing layers he didn't get a close look at you. But now, sunlight in through the frosty panes he couldn't help but follow your lower half as you stomped sleepily across the room. Seeing a clearly strong thickness in your thighs that rested under an ass of the same description, just peaking out from beneath the bottom of your hoodie. "I didn't keep you waiting too long did I?" you say a little louder, your own voice deep and slow from sleep still.

"Nah." you hear groaned as the couch makes a similar noise as he rises.

"Not been up even thirty minutes. Just checking my phone out of habit." he shrugs, but you don't see it, pushing his phone into his pocket, wearing a tank top that you guessed was under his t-shirt from last night and his jeans.

"Mmmph." you nod in response, hearing him walk into the kitchen. "Want breakfast?" you ask, your eyes half-lidded and blinking slowly.

"After those sandwiches last night I'd be an idiot to say no."

"Mmm." your lips purse as you rest your hands on the counter, leaning against it. "Flattery, huh?" you let out a low rumbling chuckle. "This early?" you quirk your head at him.

"You warned me you'd be mean this morning..." he raises a brow and you know he's being a wonderfully intuitive person, making sure he defused any situation before it even started.

You give him a closed mouth smile. "So you're smart too, huh?" you finally give a laugh, another low rumble from your chest as you move to the fridge.

"My actions would usually speak against that." he grins, looking down at the wooden floor. "But I won't turn down a compliment." his head shakes slightly, his hair moving back and forth over his face as it hangs down.

"Breakfast burrito alright?" you ask, looking at the contents of the fridge and finding yourself not wanting to make anything from scratch.

"Fuck yeah. Sure." his voice is full of amusement and more than a bit of hunger.

You lean into the freezer, picking the pre-made burritos out of their container, all individually wrapped, part of your meal prep you tried to keep up with. "Big boy like you'll eat two I imagine." an amused smile on your lips as you push the buttons on the toaster oven to heat them up. "You make these too?" his voice sounds impressed.

"Yeah, I like to make them ahead of time. Easy to grab before I go work out in the mornings."

"Ah. Makes sense." he gives a thoughtful nod, finally moving from his position of leaning on the doorway to the table. "What's in 'em?" he asks, chin in his hand, watching you move about the kitchen, starting the coffee.

"Uhh...lots of veggies." you nod. "Eggs, goat cheese, bell peppers, mushrooms, spinach, pork sausage, some salsa." you name off things as you back and forth from the counters on opposite sides of the room, one with your coffee, tea and appliances, the other with the stove, toaster oven and sink, the fridge sitting daunting between the two, cabinets on either side of it.

"Sounds almost healthy." he laughs, still low and easy going, rumbling around his chest before escaping from his smiling lips.

"Could be a lot worse." you nod and sit a glass of water in front of him, sitting in the chair closest to him at the round table that took up one half of the kitchen. You look out the double patios doors for a moment, your fenced in backyard covered in deep snow. "I figure...with as much as I drink sometimes, and my tendency to eat really unhealthy greasy junk food late at night, I can try to eat well the rest of the time." you look over to him and shrug, rising when the coffee pot beeps.

"Not a bad approach. I feel like somedays I only work out because I eat so much." he laughs at himself, chin still in his hand as his eyes follow you.

"Can't relate." you laugh with a shake of your head. You make your coffee, setting it on the table. "How ya take it?"

"Fuck it, just black this morning."  you give a stern nod and comply.

"Take your coffee much like yourself." you chuckle to yourself, his brow furrows in amused question at you as you sit down. "Straightforward. Dark. Strong." you let out a laugh, your nose wrinkling as you take a sip.

"What's your's say then?" he asks with a quirked eyebrow.

You hum in thought, looking into your mug. "Bitter base with enough artificial sweetener to make it tolerable." you let out the first shoulder-shaking laugh of the day.

A grin spreads across his face. "I heard artificial sweetener is bad for you, you know." he says with no scolding, still teasing you.

"Alright, mom." you chuckle into your mug. "I'll be sure to add my emotional shortcomings to my list of things to work on. Try for more raw sugar and less aspartame." you smirk.

"Oh shit, I didn't mean it like that." you can see his posture stiffen.

"Don't worry Declan, no offense taken." you shake your head and give him a genuinely warm smile that eases his nerves. "Stick around me long enough you'll start to understand my fucked up sense of humor. I'm always like this." you grin at yourself, standing to get the burritos from the small oven after it dings.

You slide the plate in front of him, just as last night he doesn't hesitate to attack your offering. "So you meal prep...and you said you work out..." he says between bites." Do you do competitions or anything like that?" he asks.

You grin as he makes contented noises as he eats. "Oh, no." you laugh. "I just like lifting weights. I like being strong." you nod, taking a bite yourself now. "You clearly workout, you do competitions?"

He laughs, a mouthful of food before forgetting his manners. "Nah." he shakes his head. "Kind've comes with the tough guy territory," he explains with a slight shrug. "Bar owner, ex-member of a biker gang. People try to start shit with me a lot." he rolls his eyes.

"Makes sense." you add to show you're listening. "Ex biker? I didn't think they let people out of those things?"

"Well these guys did. After all the shit I've done for them, sorry, all the shit I still do for them, " he chuckles, "You tell them you want out, they listen." his eyebrows raise with his explanation. So he certainly seemed to be someone you wouldn't want to fuck with and his words back up this theory. He was becoming more and more intriguing the more he spoke. "I saw the vests and patches on the guys out front that gave me a hard time, I was hoping I wasn't going to walk in and someone tries to make me ride bitch with them." you joke.

"Oh ignore them." he moves his hand dismissively. "They like to act all tough but they won't give you any trouble. Not with me around anyway. One of them so much as insults you, you let me know. I'll set 'em straight." he gives you a friendly wink.

"What if I'd rather set them straight myself?" you grin.

"Well if you think you can take them, go for it babe." he chuckles, "I won't stop ya."

"They behave better when you're around?"

"Yeah. They know I don't want all the violent bullshit in my bar. Not like I can totally avoid it, kind've comes with the territory.  We get too much flack as is with stereotypes. Don't want to attract the wrong kind of people ya know? I don't' want to deal with that bullshit anymore."

"Very smart and professional of you." you say supportively.

"Can I get that in writing? You do reviews?" he laughs, finishing his burritos. Taking down two in the time it took you to eat one.

"The Trading Post. 5 stars. Personal chauffeur service. Personal attention and great fuckin' music. If you love the smell of years of liquor being spilled into old wood floors, you've found your new local." you let out a slight giggle.

He opens his mouth to retaliate against your comments.

"That was all meant to be a compliment." you push your chin into your chest.

"Ah, I see." he nods slowly. "Good thing you came in then, wouldn't want to lose you to one of those gentrified gastro pub's that keep popping up."

"Now my friend Charlotte, that's more her scene," you explain, taking the plates to the sink. "She took me to one once, not my style." you shake your head, "I like dives. I like age and grit and rough around the edges. Dark and rugged...that's more my style."

You turn to face him, he's already standing, stretching and letting out a roar of a groan as he does so. You can't help but notice the line of skin exposed from the raising of his shirt, warm tan skin with a light dusting of hair that you blink rapidly to forget. Don't go getting distracted by a nice body, that's never done anyone a bit of good. Even though this body seemed to have a good brain inside it, you'd wait to hold judgment until you'd known the man at least 24 hours.

You look at the clock on the wall as he smacks his lips and rubs his neck.

"Salt truck should've ran by now. Let's see the verdict, shall we?" you shrug and walk past him to the window in the living room. "Good news!" you lilt, turning quickly to let him know the roads were salted but he's already towering over you, peaking out of the curtains above your head. Jesus, he was tall. You bet he was around a foot taller than you and you can't help but feel physically intimidated standing in his shadow. Who would be stupid enough to mess with this guy?

"House arrest over." he laughs.

"Salt trucks ran, sun's out, you've got four-wheel drive...you should make your break to freedom before another front moves in." you look up at him with big blinking eyes, he meets them with a warm smile, seeming to study your face for a moment before moving to the couch to grab his t-shirt.

"You need a ride anywhere?" he asks, pulling on his boots.

"Thanks but no." you shake your head. "I'm not going anywhere today." you frown but not in a sad way as you move to the front door.

"Well...in case you do..." he says, leaning over the small desk in the hallway by the door, scribbling down something. "There's my number. The buses suck shit in my part of town so don't think you're gonna be bothering me."

"Written down instead of texted. Old fashioned. I like it." you give him an approving nod. You pull your phone from your pocket, entering in the number and texting him your name. He puts on his coat, seeing the numerous locks on your front door, trying not to be obvious as he thought about why'd you have so many. Three deadbolts seemed a bit much but...you were a woman who lived alone.

"I'm not as cool as you so I just texted it to you." you shrug.

He flicks the screen with his thumb. "Bella Fiore." he grins. "So that other half is Italian huh?" That explains the olive complexion and dark hair he thought. He'd known you were half Irish but only the light freckles on your cheeks that he could see now that you weren't wearing makeup, and your green eyes gave any illusion to the heritage.

"Afraid so." you grin.

"Well..." he lowers his head almost as if he were bowing. "Thank you, for letting me stay. For real. And you fed me...twice! So I owe you." he chuckles. He brings you in for an unexpected hug, but you certainly weren't going to fight him. You'd seen him do the same to the girl the night before so you still don't feel like he's being forward with you.

"Just repaying you for dealing with and taking care of my drunk ass last night." you say, noticing that distinctly masculine smell that's unique to every man, his being particularly pleasant to your senses as your fae rests on the soft leather of his coat.

He let's go, an inviting smile on his lips as he looks down at you. "I don't get many people as cool as you coming into the bar so don't be a stranger, alright?"

"And miss out on more of that Ale? Don't be stupid, Declan." you give him the same kinda smile back before unlocking the door and opening it for him. "You be careful!" you say loudly, holding your hand over your eyes to shield it from the white reflecting off the snow-covered street. He waves before getting in his truck to leave and you watch him depart from the living room window.

The house felt oddly empty now. "Oh hello baby." you coo as Robert appears, rubbing against your ankles. "Got distracted feeding someone else and left you out huh?" you baby talk him, scratching under his chin as you carry him to the kitchen. He meows and purrs, not seeming to be angry about it.

So you feed the cat and place the heater back in your room. You sit on the edge of the bed, wondering how to spend your unexpected day off. You figure you'll check in with Charlotte, your oldest and best friend.

"Hello?" you hear the usual weariness in her voice, having just had a baby.

"Hey mama." you try to sound cheerful to offset her exhaustion.

"Hey." you hear her yawn.

"Didn't wake you up did it?"

"Ugh, no. I've not been to sleep."

"Sam being a booger still?"

"He's not stopped since conception." she hums in amusement at herself.

"I had a great night and I thought you might want to hear about it."

"Please. Yes. Let me pretend I'm not covered in spit up and breast milk and that I've showered in the past two days. because I have a life still."

She had been living vicariously through you as of late. It had been the other way around previously. She'd found a banker, a nice enough dude to marry her and those were all things that felt not in the cards for you. Rich guys she tried to set you up with just really didn't seem down with what you were offering, but then again, you weren't really looking to be anyone's wife. You'd agree to a blind date and it'd end amicably but there'd never been any follow-up. Rough around the edges was a polite phrase you'd heard one too many times now to describe yourself.

"Well I went to a new bar, I'll have to take you eventually, it's rustic and strangely endearing."  you pick at the cat hair that's gathered on your hoodie from where you carried Robert around. "And I met this really nice guy."

"You're kidding." she says flatly.

"Nope. He even stayed the night last night." you say suggestively, purposely leading her on and she bites the bait hook, line and sinker.

"HE WHAT?!" she shouts. You hear the baby start crying. "Oops." she says in a tone that shows she's only disappointed with herself. ------- Declan arrives back at the bar, Mike's already there dealing with deliveries.

"Back late I see." his eyebrows raise as he looks down on a clipboard.

"Got snowed in." he gruffs out.

"Mmmm Hmmm. Yeah, sure ya did." he chuckles.

"I very literally did." he responds flatly.

"And how was the girl? What was her name again?"

"Bella." he says, a small smile on his face as he takes his coat off and hangs it on a hook in the back room.

"Ah. Bella. Pretty name for a pretty girl." he says, checking off his list. "And how did Miss Bella treat ya last night Mr. Harp?" he grins.

"Nothing happened that would warrant that tone being used." he shoves his shoulder as he passes him with a chuckle, moving over to a pile of boxes.

"If nothing happened then how was she? Not had a woman we didn't already know in this bar for ages. You two seemed to get along really well, actually." he inquires.

"She's..." he pauses, a tilt of his head in thought. " She's really nice actually. And cool." his eyes narrow in thought.

"Oh goodness, nice and cool? Such aggressive descriptors from you about a woman." Mike cackles.

"Shut up Mike." he grunts, still grinning to himself as he lifting the boxes to carry to the walk-in fridge.

@vale0413

[ladyknightleyisundercover]

Harry Potter and the Birthday Surprise

Happy birthday, Mr Potter, and thanks for giving me this community <3 | AO3

“Distract me,” Hermione muttered, and Ginny was amused to see, when she looked over, that she couldn’t look directly at her husband and daughter, playing together on the toy broom.

“Rose will be absolutely fine,” she promised. “There is nothing safer than these toy brooms. Plus, children bounce remarkably well.”

“Mummy, look!” Obediently, Hermione looked over at her daughter, who was beaming with pride as she zoomed around on the broom, completely oblivious to the fact that her father was holding on to its end with a vice-like grip.

“Oh, well done Rosie!” she cried. “Aren’t you so clever?”

“Look, Mummy, look! I going to fly alla way to MARS!” Rosie exclaimed.

“To Mars? Goodness me,” Ginny said. “How about, for a test run, you go all the way to the bottom of the garden for me, and take your cousin Jamie his sun hat?”

“Mmm...” Rose considered this, tilting her head to one side. “Okay!”

“Get Harry to make sure he’s keeping the kids in the shade—I don’t want a repeat of last year’s sunstroke episode with Ted,” Ginny said in a low voice to Ron, who picked up the hat. “Oh, and ask him when the first lot of sausages will be done. I’m absolutely starving.”

Ron promised to do so, and the two of them trundled off to the bottom of the garden, where Harry had set up his brand-new barbeque—a birthday present from Ginny and the kids—and was busying cooking for the whole family, who had come round to celebrate his birthday. “Only, I think Dad was more excited than he was about the barbeque,” she added to Hermione, having explained this. “He’s down there now, ‘helping’,” she put air quotes around the word, and Hermione laughed.

“He’ll be worse than the kids for keeping an eye on,” she said, and Ginny nodded ruefully.

“I’ve already prewarned Mum that if—” She broke off, aware of Harry barrelling towards them, a worried look on his face. “What’s wrong?” she called.

“The kids are with you,” he said, but it was clear that this was just wishful thinking. 

Ginny felt her heart begin to beat faster, and she saw Hermione sit up a little straighter.

“No, they’re with you,” she said firmly. “You took James, Al and Teddy down to help with the barbeque.”

“And they got bored inside thirty seconds because I wouldn’t let them anywhere near the flames,” Harry said, his voice very controlled. “So I told them to go up to you, and ask you to get the toy broom out. Twenty minutes ago.”

“I didn’t see them with anyone else,” Ron said, reappearing with Rose. “Everyone’s present and accounted for, but nobody else has seen them.” The garden was filled with Weasleys of assorted ages, the older ones of whom were now making their way over to them, looking concerned.

“No one will have been hurt, because we’d have heard the wailing,” Hermione said reassuringly. “And the only dangerous thing is the barbeque, which clearly they haven’t been near.” No one looked convinced by this, but, suddenly, Ginny got it. She knew exactly where they’d be: exactly where they weren’t supposed to be.

“It’s fine,” she said, before anyone can say anything else. “I know where they’ll be,” she added.

“Is everything okay?” Mum had arrived now, looking worried. “Ron said that Teddy, James and little Al had vanished?”

“It’s fine,” Ginny repeated. She looked over at Harry. “Come on,” she said to him. “Let’s go and dig ’em out. Don’t worry, everyone, I know just where they’ll have got to. Ron, can you go back to Dad, tell him everything’s fine, and to keep that barbeque going? We’ll be back in a moment, and we’re going to need all the food we can get, because, trust me, we’re not going to be getting any birthday cake...”

*

The previous night, she’d all but pushed Harry into the floo. She’d absolutely insisted that he go for pre-birthday drinks with Ron, as he’d arranged weeks ago, citing the fact that she needed to bake him a cake, wrap his presents, and get the children to sign his cards (or at least, Teddy would sign his card. James would probably manage it, with a few backwards letters, and Al would just scribble on his, but it was the thought that counted.) And it all needed to happen in secret, without him there.

Harry insisted that it did not, and that he should stay and help a clearly frazzled Ginny—the children had caught the birthday-excitement bug, and it wasn’t fair to leave her on her own with them. She, however, had absolutely insisted that he go—not because of the cake, presents, or cards, but because of something else, something which she did not, yet, want to name, in case she was wrong.

She’d only begun to suspect, earlier that week. She had hidden the test she’d picked up a day or two ago, but she hadn’t had time to take it yet. It was probable—likely!—that she was wrong, and there was no sense both of them getting their hopes up. Or so she told herself. She wanted to take it in secret, just in case she was wrong. And so she had to send him away, and birthday-prep was the ideal excuse.

In the end, she’d won (of course). Harry had gone to the pub with Ron, and the kids had signed their names in cards and ‘helped’ her wrap the presents and make the cake. She put Al to bed whilst it baked, but let James and Teddy stay up until she got it out of the oven and they’d ‘helped’ her cover it in chocolate frosting. She realised slightly later that this was a mistake—not because they’d done a bad job, but because the sight of cake just before bedtime was like when she got the catnip out in front of the cats. They were obsessed with it, and begged and begged to be allowed to try it, go on, just a tiny bit, pleeeeeeeeease.

In the end, she’d had to be quite firm, and there had, of course, been tears and sulking (“HORRID MUMMY!” James had pouted, as she’d placed it on a high shelf in the pantry). She’d absolutely forbidden them from touching it, packed them off to bed, then, on taking the test, promptly forgot all about the drama entirely.

Positive.

She was pregnant again.

Sitting in the on the edge of the bathtub, seeing the potion glowing, she’d felt the thrill of excitement run through her just as strongly as it had the previous times. She hugged the knowledge to herself, delighting in being the only one who knew for a few hours, but mostly, she couldn’t wait to tell her husband.

As Al grew, they’d discussed having a third, and had decided that they weren’t trying, but they weren’t not trying, either. They were perfectly happy with their family as it was, so if it didn’t happen, it didn’t happen, and that was great. But if it did—well. That would be great, too. But a few months had gone by with nothing, until, a week or so ago, she’d realised that she just had a feeling again. That was always how it started—no sickness, no cravings, no other symptoms just yet. Just a feeling. For someone who’d nearly failed Divination, it was maybe a bit inexplicable, but that was just how it was.

The potion said she was just about eight weeks, so they wouldn’t tell her parents or the rest of the family just yet, just in case. But she could not wait to tell Harry. She’d planned to tell him when he got back from the pub, but he was a little later than she’d thought he might be, and she’d fallen asleep downstairs (the exhaustion, too was one of her tell-tale signs, but, to be fair, she did have two children of her own and sometimes a Teddy to care for, so that wasn’t entirely surprising).

Harry had laughed at her, teasing that she’d been the one on the bottle that night, but she’d felt so groggy and disoriented, stumbling into bed, that she just hadn’t had the right moment to tell him. It did occur to her, though, that it would make a fantastic birthday present, so she decided to keep the news to herself for just a few more hours, having already safely hidden the test. In the morning, though, they’d been woken by three incredibly excitable children at five thirty and...well. Ginny wouldn’t have exchanged any of them for the world, but it did mean that she didn’t have a single moment to talk to Harry alone.

Before she knew it, it was time for the family to start arriving—they’d invited them all over for a barbeque, making the most of the glorious weather and the opportunity all the children had to run around together in the garden. And if Harry noticed she’d drunk nothing from the celebratory glass of champagne Fleur had been handing out to everyone, he hadn’t said anything.

She’d decided to tell him late that evening. Everyone would have gone home, James and Al would be in bed, and Teddy would be back with his Grandmother. It’d just be the two of them, on the sofa—maybe in the garden if the weather held. They could take their time together, and it would be perfect.

*

Now, striding across the lawn, she shared her theory with Harry. Not the baby one. The other one.

With all her own excitement, she’d forgotten about the children’s enthusiasm over the cake. Well, this wasn’t quite fair. She shouldn’t tar them all with the same brush: Al was fairly oblivious, happy to just toddle after his two older brothers cheerfully. James and Teddy, though. That was another story.

She couldn’t believe how much she’d dropped the ball. The signs were all there—their sneaky, gleeful, guilty expressions all morning; the way they stopped talking whenever she entered the room; the way they kept just ‘walking by’ the pantry, as though to check it was still there... Even the arrival of their cousins had barely registered.

But, between last night’s discovery, the early morning wake up call, sorting out her husband’s gifts from his children, getting everyone washed and dressed and breakfasted, cleaning the house in preparation for her family arriving, realising they didn’t have a clue how to work the new barbeque, and just general everyday madness, on top of the birthday excitement...well, she just hadn’t been as on it as she should.

So she shared (most of) this with Harry, briefly, as they made their way towards the house. “...and so I’d put all the gold in Gringotts on the fact that the three of them are in the pantry, trying to get to the birthday cake, ten percent because they want cake and ninety percent because I told them they weren’t allowed last night,” she finished.

“As a man trained in understanding the brains of criminal masterminds,” he replied, “I’d say you were absolutely right.” They reached the kitchen doorway, and he put a finger to his lips. She nodded, creeping in after him. The pantry was just off the kitchen, and angled so that, from the doorway, you can see in, but people inside can’t see out. This meant that Ginny and Harry got full view of the children (who had left the door open), but they couldn’t see them.

Which, in turn, meant that Ginny was able to summon the camera and silently take a picture for posterity, put it down, then turn back to her husband, who, like her, was trying not to laugh and not really succeeding. “Strict faces on?” she whispered.

“Naturally,” he said, wiping his expression clean. They advanced on the pantry.

“And what,” Ginny thundered, summoning her best impression of her own mother, “is going on here?!”

It was fairly obvious what was going on: Teddy and James had enlisted Al to help them get the cake, placing him on top of James’s shoulders, who was in turn on top of Teddy’s. The leaning tower of child was angled towards the highest shelf, on which lay the cake, but Al, who didn’t really have much of a clue what was going on, had gotten distracted with the spice rack. The endless shiny bottles and tubs, which make such a satisfying sound when you hit them, were enabling him to fully embrace his inner percussionist, and he was happy to whack a wooden spoon against them, gleefully making a huge racket, whilst his brothers implored him to get the cake, silly! C’mon Al! The cake!

On Ginny’s utterance, they all turned. Or rather, Teddy and James turned, both looking incredibly guilty, and Al cheerfully stayed where he was. So, of course, the two of them started wobbling like crazy, and it was immediately clear what was going to happen. Harry leapt in with a cushioning charm, and Ginny froze them where they were for an instant, and they righted James and Teddy before any harm could come to them, Harry picking up Al and putting him on his hip.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said of the spice rack, which came crashing down, landing straight on top of the birthday cake.

“Oops,” said Teddy, looking, for a moment, exactly like his mother had when she knocked something over.

“And just what,” Ginny asked, looking at the two of them and trying very hard not to laugh at their failed sneakiness, “did the two of you think you were playing at?!” Teddy, who knew he should know better, knew he should set a better example, stuttered and stammered guiltily, unable to answer.

It was James who piped up. “The cake,” he said, and his mother turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “The cake was very very lonely,” he explained. “You hid it away. It had nobody to play with. So we had to make sure it was okay.”

The phrase butter wouldn’t melt could’ve been invented for her eldest, and it wasn’t the first time she’d had to meet his gaze, trying to look severe, whilst only just managing not to laugh. Ginny suspected it wouldn’t be the last, either. So she was glad when Harry stepped in, doing the whole and weren’t you told not to precisely this? routine.

The two of them nodded guiltily—Al was completely unaware still, gumming the wooden spoon happily—and mumbled their apologies. “Is the cake okay?” Teddy asked. “Will everyone still get a piece?”

Ginny looked at it. Fortunately, she’d put so much chocolate buttercream on it that most of the spice jars had simply bounced straight off. They’d take some cleaning, but equally fortunately, she had another tub of the icing, and she could use it to fix the damage. It would be fine.

“I think I might be able to work some magic,” she said, still trying to look strict, and not think instead about what an adorable Christmas card photo this would make. “And everyone should still get a piece, yes.”

James tapped her arm. “Even us, Mummy?” he asked, big brown eyes staring up at her.

Ginny’s lips twitched. “I think the two of you should go and sit very quietly in the garden with Grandma Molly. And if you can manage that until it’s time to eat, I think, yes, you might still get some cake. But only if you’re very good boys!”

After they promising faithfully to be excellent boys, Harry took them off into the garden to explain the situation to everyone, who all thought it was very funny (though they didn’t tell James and Teddy that). Al, too young to know what he was doing really, was deposited with his Uncle Ron and cousin Rosie, who magnanimously allowed him to play on the broom, and Hermione and Grandma Molly promised to keep an eye on the other two, who knew when they were beaten.

Harry went back to the kitchen, to help Ginny with the cake rescue, but found she’d already completed it. “It could’ve been a lot worse,” she said cheerfully. “I had visions of us being up all night with three kids who were incredibly ill on a sugar overdose, having finished the entire thing off themselves. But it was just a bit of the buttercream that got rubbed off in the end, and I’ve fixed that, see? It might not be the best-looking birthday cake you’ve ever had, but it’ll certainly taste nice!” She gestured towards it, looking good as new on the kitchen table.

“You’re a genius,” Harry said, kissing her on the cheek. “Well done. But, look, I was thinking,” he turned serious for a moment, and she looked over at once. “This is precisely why we can’t have three. Far too many opportunities for trouble! And worse—they’ll outnumber us!”

It was absolutely, one hundred percent clear that he meant this as a joke. And Ginny absolutely, one hundred percent meant to respond with a similar joke. But then she hesitated for a fraction of a second too long, and realised that the perfect opportunity to do something, or tell someone something, didn’t present itself that often.

So she smiled a soft, secret smile, leaned in, and said, “Too late.”

It took him about point three of a second to understand her meaning, another point three of a second for his expression to change to one of complete and utter joy, and another point three for him to pick her up, whirl her around in the air and kiss her like he only ever has twice before.

“You’re sure?” he asked a moment later.

Ginny laughed. “Positive,” she said. “I started to think I might be pregnant again earlier this week, but I only managed to get the test a couple of days ago, and I took it whilst you were out at the pub last night. I was going to tell you then, but I was so sleepy, and then the kids this morning...well, anyway, the plan was to tell you tonight, but...I guess it slipped out early.”

Harry laughed too. “That’s...I’m...wow!” he manged. “How far along are you?”

“About eight weeks, though of course we’ll have to get in touch with St Mungo’s soon to confirm it,” she replied. “So I don’t want to tell anyone else yet, either.”

“Just in case,” Harry nodded, sobering slightly too. There’s a beat or two of silence.

“Still,” Ginny said, not managing to stop the huge grin spreading across her face.

“Best. Present. Ever,” Harry said, laughing.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Potter,” she said. “And congratulations on becoming a Dad again!”

Joyfully, Harry swept her up into his arms, embracing her. She pushed herself bodily towards him, feeling the familiarity of his warm arms, his chest, his body... They melded together, and leaned back together, and—

“Oh.”

Ginny, now wearing most of the incredibly flattened, totally ruined birthday cake across her back, swore mightily. “What are we going to do?!” she exclaimed, turning to her husband.

“Only one thing for it,” he said, catching her eye.

“...blame it on the kids, of course!”

[moody-by-nature]

Rescue Me | Chapter Six

Andrea’s POV

"Alright, fine. We'll do it your way this time. Emma has taken on more of an ownership role in the company and Shayla is now my assistant. She's wonderful, but my life has been getting busier and busier each day and we could use an extra set of hands. So, I wanted to ask if you'd be interested in working for me as an assistant? You'd be the perfect addition to the team, what do you think?"

My mind was racing, 'did he really just ask me to work for him?' I pulled my feet up and wrapped my arm around my legs, "I don't know Jared, that's a pretty big change to make so suddenly."

"Says the woman who packed her car and transported her life to Los Angeles without anyone to fall back on! You're obviously strong willed, what's your hesitation?"

I listened to him chewing on the other end of the phone, processing what I wanted to say to him. "I don't want to sound selfish, but I moved here to chase my dreams of acting and directing Jared, and I can't do that if I'm working for you. I mean, sure, I'd love to travel the world with you and learn from you, absolutely. But I feel like what I want would fall on the back burner."

"I promise you it wouldn't. Working with me could open a lot of doors for you. All the events I have to go to, you'd be right beside me. Rubbing elbows with the very people you want to work with."

"So you want me to use you to get what I want? That seems a bit silly and incredibly unfair. What's in it for you?"

Jared laughed quietly, "Honestly, it's an I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine situation, Andie. You help me keep my life together and organized and I'll do whatever I can to support and help you. You get a call to audition? Schedule it and go. You get offered the part? I'll be your biggest cheerleader. I'd never stop you from living your dreams."

I could hear the sincerity laced in his words. They spoke directly to my adventurous side, which wanted to instantly say yes. However, my logical side refused to let up just yet.

"Ok, and what about when we are in the middle of a tour in Europe when that audition happens, hmm? You just expect me to think it's ok to just leave you?" I asked incredulously.

"Shayla will still be around and she can pick up the slack when you're gone. Your role is being created to help take some of her work load off. Occasional trips to audition wouldn't be an issue."

I shook my head at his reply and grinned, "You'd be an excellent salesman if this multihyphenate thing doesn't pan out." Giggling, I added, "You could sell ice to an Eskimo!"

Jared let out a breathy laugh, "So is that a yes?" He asked in excitement.

"No! That was just a discussion of expectations of sorts. I need to think about it Jared."

"Ok, I understand. Hey, I have an idea! We have a show coming up at the Hollywood Bowl. Come to the show and hopefully by then you'll have your answer. Award season will be approaching soon and I'd like to have you with me by then, but no pressure."

I chewed on my cheek as I thought about his offer, "Yeah! I'd love to see you guys play again and I've yet to see a show at The Bowl."

"The Bowl. Listen to you, you already sound like a local." He said with a laugh. We continued talking for hours, just like the first night we met, until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore.

"Hey, J," I yawned, "I need to get some sleep, I have the early shift tomorrow at the coffee shop."

"Oh shit, I just realized the time! I was serious about my offer, Andrea. But I want you to take your time deciding and do what's best for you."

I sighed, "I know J, I will think it over, I promise."

"I like it when you call me J." He responded, "Goodnight, Andie, sweet dreams."

With a big smile on my lips, I replied,"Goodnight J, sweet dreams to you, too."

After disconnecting the call I walked into the bathroom to complete my nightly routine and climbed into bed. Lying there in my cozy bed, I generated a mental checklist of pro's and con's, the pro list was gaining traction quickly when I fell into a peaceful sleep.

The next four weeks flew by quickly. All of those auditions under my belt and I had finally landed a small part on a tv show. Along with that role, the exposure had granted me some advertisement work. I was asked to model for one of my favorite local boutiques. With those two projects lined up, I felt it best to resign from the doctor's office and picked up supplemental shifts at the coffee shop in between my time on set and photo shoots.

Jared and I spoke via text almost daily and on the phone at least a couple times a week. Things had been much better since he'd asked me to join his team and our friendship was progressing quickly. Shannon had kept his promise of staying in touch as well.

When I last spoke to Jared he said they were due to arrive home later today. Excitement bubbled through me as time ticked by waiting to see them again.

Unfortunately, that won't be until show day. The next two days were jam packed full of fourteen hour work days, and I know they will be just as busy prepping for the show Saturday.

In an attempt to make the days pass quickly, I threw myself into my work. I loved being on set so much. This is exactly what I want to do with my life. Every morning, I pull onto the studio lot and pinch myself as I glance up at the Hollywood sign to make sure I'm not dreaming. I spend any time I'm not in front of the camera sitting next to the director absorbing everything I can, and learn as much as possible from different crew members.

When Saturday morning arrived, I awoke before my alarm. Today was my first full day free of work in a solid month. Surprisingly, I felt refreshed and ready to enjoy this day to the fullest.

The sounds of Fleetwood Mac flowed from the speakers of my turntable as I danced around my kitchen preparing my favorite tofu scramble with sautéed veggies and coffee. I sat cross legged on top of the counter eating when my phone buzzed with a text.

"Please tell me you're free all day and what time I'll get to see you?" A big smile crept across my face as I read Jared's words again before sending a reply.

"Yes, free all day and how soon do you want to see me?"

Just as I hit send the doorbell rang. I jumped down and rushed to the door looking through the peep hole. Mumbling, "Are you serious right now?" before I opened the door as far as the chain would allow, "How does now sound?" Jared asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Great, except for the fact that I'm not decent! I'll unlock the door, but don't you dare come in here until thirty seconds have passed."

Jared smirked at me, "What are you smirking about?" I asked.

"You just said thirty seconds." He chuckled

I laughed and rolled my eyes, "Unintentional pun, but I'm serious." I shut the door before he could respond and unlatched the chain, then ran down the hall to put pants on. Jared let himself in and walked into the kitchen.

After a few minutes rummaging through my closet, I threw on a pair of black sweatpants, a fresh t-shirt and grabbed my glasses. I glanced at my reflection on my way out of my closet trying to decide the fate of my unruly curls. I made my way into the living room, deciding to toss my hair into a messy bun.

I found Jared sitting on a barstool next to my breakfast, gazing out the window. The sound of my bare feet on the hardwood floor alerted him of my approach. He smiled at me and leapt from his seat, "Hey!" he said, spreading his arms open for a hug.

"Hey." I smiled back, "Are you happy to be home? Would you like some breakfast? I have plenty and it's still fairly warm."

"Very happy and yes, I would please. It smells amazing!"

I pulled a plate out of the cabinet and filled it full of food before placing it in front of Jared. Then I walked back around the counter digging a fork from the drawer, "I have some tea if you'd like? Or some dark chocolate almond milk?"

Glancing up at Jared, I waited for his response, "I haven't had chocolate almond milk in a while, that sounds delicious."

I felt his eyes on me as I moved about. Butterflies danced in my tummy and I couldn't stop smiling. My hands trembled as I poured milk into a glass for him. I shook my head and quietly laughed at my silliness and placed the glass in front of Jared, taking a seat next to him.

Jared took a bite of his breakfast and moaned lightly, "Damn, Andie, this is delicious!" I shivered at the sound he made as it reverberated through me. I gazed at Jared as he said, "That's two meals you've made for me now that we're both great. Even more reason for you to join the team." He winked.

"I'm glad you like it, and don't push your luck, Jared, I'm still processing."

"Yeah, you've been quite the busy bee lately, how's your show going?" he asked.

"Well, it's hardly my show, but I love it!"

As we sat there eating I felt like my body had a mind of its own. My feet bounced uncontrollably on the barstool, my heart was racing and I had to focus on regulating my breathing. Surely it was just excitement for the show tonight. It's been so long since I've seen them play. Or was it something else?

Jared broke my concentration when he asked, "Hey, you ok? You've been staring at your plate for five minutes."

Readjusting my glasses, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about the show tonight, I'm really excited to see you guys play."

Jared smiled, "I'm excited too, should be a great show. You sure you're ok? I should have called before I came over, I'm sorry." He said with a sigh.

"No, no. It's fine, really. I just got lost in my thoughts for a minute there."

I stood up and started clearing our plates, while Jared finished his milk before he walked over and placed it next to the sink.

"Ok, well, I've gotta go. I have to get some things rolling for tonight. The meet and greet with the Echelon is at three. So if you want, you can get there around two and we will have a little downtime." He stated as he walked towards the door. I followed him, wringing my hands together as I listened to his instructions.

"Sounds great, I'll be there around two." I answered, smiling up at him just as he pulled me into another hug. I wrapped my arms around him once again, squeezing him a little tighter before letting him go, and held the door open as he left.

"Bye Andrea, see you in a bit. Oh, when you get there give them your name at the talent entrance."

"Ok. Bye, J."

Shutting and locking the door behind him, I stomped across the living room, fell face first into the couch and let out a frustrated scream. "Get it together, Bennet!"

Around noon I made myself a small pizza and decided to start getting ready. After a shower, I perused my closet for tonight's outfit. My goal was comfort, so I opted for a dark grey crop top with a pair of cutoff shorts, my favorite flannel and my comfy converse. I left my long hair down to air dry, praying for my curls to behave. I switched out bags to a small cross-body purse and made another sweep of my home to ensure I had everything I needed and called Jared.

"Hey, Andie!" He said

"Hey Jared, I'm headed over, need me to bring you anything on the way?"

"See, you're a natural." He chuckled

"What are you talking about?" I asked before it dawned on me what he was referring to. "Ugh. I was just being nice, forget I asked. I'm on the way. Bye."

I arrived at the venue just after two o'clock and checked in as instructed. The big burly man named Steve according to his credentials announced my arrival into a two-way radio. Moments later I hear a female voice say, Let her in, I'm making my way down the hall to meet her." Steve opened the door and I started walking down the empty hallway.

"You must be Andrea, I'm Shayla! It's nice to meet you!" She smiled warmly at me, I smiled back, "Hey, yes I am, it's nice to meet you too, Shayla." She turned and gestured for me to follow her, making idle chit chat as we walked until she stopped, knocking on a door as she pushed it open. "Jared, Andrea's here."

There was no reply, but Shayla said, "Go on in, he may be in the restroom. I'll be back to check on you in a bit. I have to get a few things taken care of." I hesitated entering his dressing room unannounced, but Shayla nudged my arm in encouragement and went on her way.

Jared's things were strewn haphazardly throughout the room. I glanced around at my surroundings looking for a place to sit, settling for the couch in the corner.

I sat there quietly for a couple of minutes playing with the ends of my hair when I heard a door. Jared walked out of the bathroom, completely unaware of my proximity, with nothing but a towel wrapped dangerously low around his slim hips; his hands busy drying his hair with another towel. I suddenly felt like I was violating his privacy, so I quickly grabbed for my phone to distract myself from looking at his body.

I opened my phone, but hadn't managed to get much further when he cleared his throat, "Andrea."

[rue-by-another-name]

“Mes Yeux” - h.s. a.u. Part 5

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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Even though you and Harry had seemed on good terms considering the events of the previous night, you still hesitated outside his door the next morning. You’d gone back to the villa early in the morning after the heaviness of your impending future had hung in the air. Harry had given you a soft kiss before you’d parted ways, and though that may have been a signal of a peace offering, you still weren’t sure.

You finally found the courage to knock, only to lift your hand as Harry opened the door. He raised his eyebrows at you, seemingly confused, before stepping aside and mumbling, “Were you hesitant to come in love?”

“I just … Geoff sent me to ask if you’d like cheese in your eggs for breakfast this morning?”

Harry didn’t say anything for a moment as he leaned against the doorframe. Sighing, he reached out and fisted his hand in the material of your button-up shirt, pulling you close as you stumbled slightly in protest.

“Baby,” he whispered, puckering his lips fully before giving you another one of his soft kisses. “Are you pulling away so fast?”

You nuzzled your face into his chest for a brief moment before pulling away, pushing him with a bit more strength to show you meant business. “I’m just confused.”

“About?”

“Us. Obviously.”

“What is there to be confused about?”

“Are we just …” You didn’t want to bring yourself to say it, but you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just a friends with benefits type of situation until the vacation ended. Were you both merely trying to get as much out of the other in the remaining weeks?

“Why do we have to look so far ahead?” Harry finally stated. “Why can’t we live in the moment?”

“The last time we lived in the moment, the moment passed and you left.”

The sentence was heavy in your chest and burned your tongue as you said it. You could physically see the impact it had on Harry as he winced slightly and took a step back. His hand went up to play with his bottom lip as he seemed to be buying time.

“Maybe we should talk about this later today.”

“I think that would be best. No more late rendezvous, oui?”

“We’ll see,” Harry winked, “And yes to cheese in my eggs please.”

You nodded before you were running down the stairs and yelled to Geoff what Harry had said. Viv was at the counter with her glasses perched on her nose. The paper was lying out in front of her on the counter and the smoke of her cigarette was wafting up towards the fan above the kitchen.

“There’s a farmers’ market in town today,” she announced. “I think it would be nice to go, don’t you think?”

“Oh I would love to get some candles,” Mari cooed, “That cute elderly woman always used to make the loveliest candles.”

“I wouldn’t mind going,” you nodded as you grabbed an apple and chewed on it slowly. You plopped down at the table across from Luca and next to Mari, curling up in your seat as you happily looked around at your friends.

“You’re rather chipper this morning,” Luca noticed, “Your skin is flushed.”

“I think all this sun is getting to me,” you sighed, “It’s been a while since I’ve spent so much time outside.”

“Too much time in the studio, hm?” Mari chuckled, “I completely understand. Every time I see an animal I’m now itching to give it a check-up.”

“You must miss your little creatures terribly,” you nodded, giving her a soft smile in return.

Harry bounded down the stairs as he shoved his sunglasses on his face. “Hello all my darlings,” he said, “What are the plans for the day?”

“There’s a farmers’ market Harry!” Mari cried, running and taking a flying leap into his arms. Harry chuckled and placed her down, ruffling her hair before walking over to where Geoff was offering him his plate. You could see Mari’s bottom lip jut out a bit at his gesture. No girl likes a man ruffling their hair like a child.

You suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over you.

“Y/N?” Luca reached across the table and nudged your hand that was still gripping your apple. “Are you okay? You look concerned.”

“I’m just lost in my own thoughts,” you sighed, “Are you planning on going to the farmers’ market?”

“I could use a good walk,” Luca nodded, “It’s always nice to stretch the legs and be active in a non-recreational way. Maybe all the liveliness will give me some inspiration.”

“Are you still thinking of writing poetry?”

“It’s always good to have a hobby.”

You nodded at this and took another bite of your apple. It was only thirty minutes later when you all were prepped and ready to go for the market. Mounting your bikes, you tucked your skirt around your legs so it wouldn’t fly out around you. Kicking off, you and Viv led the group as you allowed the warm summer air to dance across your skin.

“Things are simpler here,” Viv sighed from behind her sunglasses. “I wish we could all stay here forever.”

“And then what good would we be able to do in the world?” you asked, giving her a knowing look as she shrugged.

“I guess we would never know.”

The market was bustling as you made it to the main square. It was colorful and full of life. Small children were ducking around the booths and screaming with laughter as you watched three small girls chasing a chicken, and another little boy attempting to help his mum by holding a large bouquet of flowers, the weight of them far too heavy for his little hands as majority of the flowers dragged on the cobble stone behind him.

“Shall we congregate back at the fountain in three hours?” Mari suggested.

“I think that’s a lovely plan,” Geoff nodded, “I’m going to check out the crafted beers, mates, if anyone wants to join?”

You didn’t particularly have anything you were interested in, and so you started meandering to the left, walking amongst the customers and smiling at the vendors. You were trailing your fingers along some colorful woven fabrics when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N!” It was Natalia, with her hair tucked under a sunhat, and her dress’s strap falling down her shoulder. She was heaving a large box of what seemed to be perfumes under her arm as her sunkissed freckles danced along her face. “I thought that was you!”

“Natalia!” you smiled and kissed her on both cheeks, squeezing her arm. “It’s good to see you again! We’re still waiting for you to stop by for dinner.”

“Oh yes,” she nodded, “I would love to! I’m sorry I haven’t called. I figured I would give you all enough time to get situated, and then we had the storm and so I completely forgot. How are you all doing?”

“We’re lounging and relaxing,” you nodded, “Some much needed vacation time. Why don’t you come down for dinner tonight?”

“That would be lovely,” Natalia nodded, “And are you doing well? You look good.”

“Oh thank you.” You knew you face was growing hot, and you weren’t sure if it was from all the busy people making you flustered as you stood amongst them, or if it was the compliment from a pretty girl you’d once gone skinny-dipping with four years ago.

“I’m doing well thank you,” you said, “It’s good to be back amongst the best of company. And how has your summer been thus far?”

“It’s been slow-going, honestly.” A young boy tapped her shoulder and she gave him a thankful look, talking to him in rapid Italian before he took the box of perfume bottles from her and made his way through the crowd. “That’s my nephew Elliot,” she pushed some hair from her face. “My mum is still selling her perfumes and working in her shop. We have a booth here today.”

“I hope it goes well for her,” you smiled, “You were saying your summer was slow-going? Are you working there?”

“No I’m doing just fine,” Natalia waved it off, “My … significant other … and I broke up at the beginning of the summer, and it’s been difficult without … them.”

You realized in that instant that Natalia wasn’t open about her sexual preferences. You didn’t blame her, it had taken you years to come to terms with it, let alone tell anyone. Your friends all knew before you even had to tell them, and though your parents were initially uncertain whether it was merely just a feeling you’d had once or twice, they eventually came to support you. But you were lucky. You knew of others who were disregarded, or told their feelings weren’t real. They were shamed for their love, and you were sure these were the thoughts going through Natalia’s head as she brushed some hair from her face and adjusted her sun hat.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said softly, reaching out and brushing your thumb along her shoulder, grasping her upper arm. “Break ups can be difficult, believe me, I know. I was with my last girlfriend for half a year before we called it off.”

“Oh,” Natalia nodded and her cheeks reddened at the information. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m better for it now,” you shrugged, “That’s what you learn from all partings. Once you’re apart, you realize how much or how little you really needed someone in your life. Or, you realize everything you could have done differently. Nia and I just weren’t meant to be.”

Natalia simply nodded, placing her hand over yours that was still stroking her arm encouragingly. “Well, come to dinner tonight,” you urged, “We’d all love to see you. And I promise we’d be great company.”

Natalia gave you a soft smile before her faced reddened a bit more. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

“Wonderful.” You reached over and gave her one last hug before you parted ways. You had barely made it to the next booth before you felt Harry’s presence behind you.

“I don’t want to sound jealous,” Harry said as he swooped over to your side and grasped a peach in his hand from the fruit stand, tossing it in the air as he looked at you from behind his sunglasses, “But you’re not trying to date both Natalia and me at the same time, are you? As much as I’m up for another one of our … adventures … I’d like you to myself for a little bit longer before you let another woman in our bed who is obviously in love with you.”

“Natalia is not in love with me,” you shook your head and paid the woman at the stand for Harry’s plucked peach. “She’s simply reaching out because she’s … struggling. And we are not dating.”

Harry slung an arm around you as he bit into the peach, offering it to you as you took a bite yourself and chewed slowly, enjoying the taste of the freshly picked fruit. Harry’s arm tugged you close and he pressed his lips to yours quickly before leaning back up and taking another bite.

“Pity,” he mumbled, “I was hoping we’d just come to the mutual decision to date.”

“We can’t date, Harry,” you shook your head and laughed at his ridiculous conclusion. “We tried to date, remember? Look where that got us. Besides, who’s to say I even want to end up with a man anyway.”

Harry startled at this, stumbling slightly over his sandal and nearly dropping the peach he was squeezing a bit too hard. “So …” he quickly composed himself. “I didn’t know you had thought of potentially being with … but how would marriage …? Don’t you want children?”

“Harry,” you turned and pressed your hands softly to his chest as he looked down wildly at you. “Don’t worry too much. You worry and you fret, and it only wrinkles your skin.”

You reached up and smoothed out the furrows of his forehead, and pressed down softly between his eyebrows until he was a bit more relaxed. You traced your finger down the side of his face and along his jaw, before your thumb rested on his lip and you tugged at it a bit, watching it pucker.

“We don’t have to date,” Harry whispered, grasping your hand by his face and pulling it to his lips to kiss it. “I just want to be with you. I don’t care in what context. We’re adults now, Y/N, and I truly think we could make something work.”

“Have you ever wondered if this isn’t just an infatuation?” you cocked your head to the side and awaited Harry’s response. Turning to walk again, Harry’s arm brushed up against yours as you walked closely together. “That maybe, just maybe, you’re only feeling this way towards me because of the place we’re in and the memories it holds?”

Harry was quiet for a moment before he tossed the peach pit at a couple of birds pecking at some fallen seeds. You both watched as the startled birds flew away before Harry grasped your hand and said, “Is that how you feel about me?”

You didn’t have to say anything for Harry to know your response as he nodded, “That’s what I thought.”

“I know things are different, and that we’re older and more mature. But that’s not an excuse to just allow ourselves to succumb to these feelings. If they didn’t work the last time, when we were obviously so deep in love, then how are they to work this time when we are merely riding on the coattails of a love we once knew?”

“If you’re saying your love for me now isn’t as passionate and strong as it was for me when we were young, then we don’t even need to be having this conversation.” Harry stopped in the middle of the path now, turning and looking at you as he took off his sunglasses so your eyes could dissect each other’s internal thoughts straight on. “Because for me,” he said, “I see the exact same, if not more beautiful and accomplished, woman that I knew all through growing up. My love for you never faltered, only my own suggestion that I would never be good enough for you.”

“You were always good enough for me,” you said quickly, reaching up and brushing some curls from his forehead, “You were always too good for me.”

“I was enough,” Harry shrugged, “But I didn’t know exactly what I wanted. I knew I wanted to write and that I wanted freedom. I just didn’t realize how much of that revolved around you.”

“You say all this,” you said softly, “And yet the past three years we have not spoken, or acknowledged each other. You were going to marry someone else,” you hissed.

“I was only going to marry her to keep a child out of a broken home,” Harry sighed, “Would I have come to love and respect Cynthia at some point? Maybe. But the love I felt for you and the devotion I’m willing to give you … that’s a feeling I have only ever felt when around you.”

“The devotion you are willing to give me?” you took a small step back, “What are you talking about?”

“You’re right; an author can write anywhere. Why wouldn’t we be able to be together,” Harry said, stepping closer, “Why wouldn’t we be able to live together, be together every day, wake up next to one another? You could keep your shop, if you wanted, and I could write from wherever you want to be. I’d have to be gone on book tours for a couple months out of the year, but other than that we’d have our life together wherever you want.”

You weren’t sure what to say to this as the world was still bustling around you and people were having casual interactions like any other day. Harry was here laying his life out for you, and yet you were still hesitant. He was talking so casually, as if the two of you committing to one another wouldn’t end everything you’d had with your friends since you could walk.

“It’s too soon,” you shook your head, “It’s too soon after telling Luca I can’t be emotionally attached to him. I told him I couldn’t be with anyone, and yet here I am lying to him once more because of you. Why do we always feel the need to lie?”

“Why do we always feel the need to fall back to one another?” Harry responded, grasping your hands in his. “Think about it.”

“I’m always thinking about it.”

He gave you a wink before placing his sunglasses back on and turning to walk beside you again. “Oh look at these,” he nodded towards some leather bound notebooks. “Wonderful craftsmanship,” he told the man behind the booth. “Do you make them all yourself?”

You didn’t listen much to the conversation Harry and the vendor were having in broken English and Italian. They were doing their best to communicate as Harry rested his hands among the bound paper. It was thrilling to see Harry so animated and excited over notebooks and journals. In all the time you’d ever known Harry, you’d always known him to be keeping a journal of his thoughts and daily life. You always wondered what he wrote about, or how he documented his day, but you knew that it had all led to some wonderful writing that the world now loved and that made you proud.

“Will you be getting one?” you asked, as you realized the conversation between the two men was over.

“Maybe another time, darling,” Harry sighed, “I’ve still got some pages left in my current one.”

You watched Harry’s fingertips drag along the worn leather one last time before he started walking away. You scrambled to follow.

To Harry, this was the epitome of what he wanted for his life. To have you by his side, meandering aimlessly amongst happy and vibrant people who were passionate about their work. It was something so mundane and natural, to attend a market, but doing it with you made it an event worth celebrating.

He knew he had placed a lot of information on you rather quickly. He felt as if he had almost dumped it into your lap and asked you to decipher it without giving you the key to figure it all out. But he was so suddenly overcome with the feat of losing you again that he felt he needed to give you everything, sacrifice it all, and maybe that would be enough.

“Could you really write from anywhere?” you asked him. “I know I suggested it, but that was when we were simply talking in hypotheticals.”

“I believe I could,” Harry nodded, “I’d just send pages to my editor. Authors have traveled and written before. It’s not an uncommon practice.”

“But would you be happy doing it?” you asked. Harry turned to see that you were really considering this, and that made his heart beat five times faster.

“Of course I would be happy,” he breathed, “I would be with you.”

The hours slowly came to an end and the vendors started to pack up their belongings. You and Harry found the rest of your party hanging by the fountain. Viv and Mari were oogling over some fabric Viv had bought for a new table cloth, and Luca had his feet in the fountain, sitting on the edge as he dangled his toes in the cool water.

“There you two are,” Geoff smiled, “We were starting to think we’d lost you both.”

“We lost track of time,” you sighed, “I ran into Natalia again. She’s coming over for dinner tonight, if that’s alright with you all.”

“Of course!” Viv smiled, “The more the merrier! It’s been ages since we’ve all seen her; it’ll be nice to catch up.”

The villa came to life once more as you all stumbled back into the solid walls. Instantly, you all set to work to prep for dinner, and Mari even decided to light her new candles for the occasion.

“So Natalia,” Luca said as you stood on the table and screwed in the light bulbs of the lanterns out on the back patio in preparation for you all to eat outside late into the night. “Is there anything there?”

You gave Luca a pointed look as he offered you his hand while you stepped down from the table. “Do we have to have the same conversation again?”

“No,” he sighed and ran his hands through his hair, “I know you’re not dating. I know you said you weren’t ready to emotionally invest yourself in anyone, but I also can’t help but wonder if that only meant guys? Or if you were only saying that because you didn’t want to be with me?”

“Luca,” you turned and placed your hands on his face, “You are an amazing man, and I’m sorry that I cannot reciprocate the love you have offered me. You will find someone amazing that respects and worships you and completes you. Someone you won’t be able to turn away from no matter what. I want you to find a love that is like staring into the sun, she shines so bright. I love you and want you to be happy, but I don’t think you’d be happy with me.”

“Well … I may still hold out a bit of hope,” he sighed, “For when you are ready to emotionally invest …”

“Luca …” you warned.

“I know; I know,” he nodded, “It could just be me, who knows, but there’s always the hope.”

You started to panic a little bit, reaching out to him as he walked past you in an attempt to tell him that having hope in a relationship between the two of you was futile and would never amount to something, when a car pulled up and Natalia pressed the horn.

Your friends rushed from the villa, and Harry watched from the doorway, large salad in hand, as you embraced Natalia in your arms, kissing both her cheeks, before she was greeted by the rest of your friends.

His eyes locked with yours as you made your way back to the villa. “She’s dressed nice,” he mentioned, watching as you walked past him towards the kitchen. You could hear all your friends laughing and talking outside around the corner from the kitchen as you reached for the plate of bread and cheese, but quickly let go of them on the counter as Harry’s fingers dug into your hips and spun you around, fiercely planting his lips on yours and gripping your right breast tightly in his hand. His lips pressed hotly against yours, mouth opening rather quickly to push deeper as his fingers rolled against your skin and seemed to be molding your flesh against him.

Pulling away, Harry picking up the salad again as if nothing had happened. “In case she flirts a bit too much with you tonight, I just wanted my hands to be seared into your skin, should she try to brush it away.”

You gave him a look before picking up your food again. “You need to contain yourself better.”

“You contain me just fine, I’d say.”

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Part 6 HERE

[geminimoonbeamx]

Sweet Tooth: Chapter Seven

A/N: I just want to write this story for the rest of my life. I love Lance Tucker man. I really truly do.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Cursing. Fluff. A mild moment of triggering body insecurity. Lance Tuckery(hah).

Summary: Lance Tucker has come back to his hometown with his ego bruised and his look on life more tainted then ever. When he runs into Y/N; a vibrant plus size woman he went to high school with at her bakery ‘Cake Faced’, he leaves the shop with the taste of sugar on his lips and a hunger that has nothing to do with the cupcakes.

💘💘💘💘💘

Your pretty sure your dating Lance Tucker.

There’s a thought you never imagined would cross your mind. It feels alien just thinking it, but it was your reality. The last few weeks had been some kind of hazy day dream, full of intense touches and hot kisses and conversations that lasted for hours. You really couldn’t believe that it was even happening.

That’s what your telling Courtney as you two idly make your way through Target, your carts quickly filling up with various bullshit. When you’d only come to grab a pack of cupcake liners.

“So you guys are screwing?” Courtney inquires. She cant deny, she’s not thrilled about this whole thing. She still thinks Lance is a total ass hat, douche bag and that he wasn’t worthy of your time or your trust…but she did trust you. She knew you were more then capable of making your own decisions. All she could do was support you and hope that this thing between the two of you didn’t end in flames like she feared it would.

“No, that’s the crazy part. I haven’t had sex with him yet” You laugh at her wayward, unbelieving look that she shoots you.

“Bullshit” She drawls out the word.

“I’m dead serious. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s gotten heavy-”

“Like how heavy? Bj’s heavy?”

“No, more like a lot of dry humping. Like, a lot-”

“What are you? Fifteen?” Court deadpans, her nose scrunched as she looks as pasta sauces.

“You’d be surprised how intense that can get and Lance is very…sensitive. It’s too easy to make that man cum in his pants” She lets out a shrill fit of giggles and you try to contain your own “And I let him finger me the other day but that’s about it”

Courtney’s a little confused. It seems like you might really like the guy, and yet you hadn’t slept with him yet. She’d never known you to be a prude, there had to be a reason. “So why aren’t you doing the do with him then?”

“I just- I don’t know. I feel like once I really cave and give him what he wants it wont be the same anymore, you know? Like right now he likes me because I tell him no, and I like him because he keeps coming after me after I tell him no. It’s kind of a game of cat and mouse and I don’t want the game to end” You admit your fears in the simplest way you can word them.

“Have you talked to him about it? Your both adults, I think that it should probably be a topic of conversation” Courtney advises, her voice comforting yet firm.

“And what am I going to say? ‘Hey, Lance, I know you like to ditch girls after you sleep with them and I’m not trying to be one of them’?”

“Yeah, exactly. Let him know the boundaries of the relationship” Courtney can see the confliction in your eyes.

“Ugh. You know they say dating is supposed to get easier as you get older but it’s still just as hard” you whine. Thirty, flirty and thriving your ass.

“Well you waited long enough. You haven’t dated anyone since Eric” It hurts less, to hear his name you realize. If anyone had mentioned your ex boyfriend a couple of years ago you definitely would have winced. Now it kind of just went over your head. You felt pretty silly about it.

“Well we all cant be serial daters like you, Court” She’d literally been in relationships since middle school. Long ones, that lasted years. She’d been with her current boyfriend for seven or so years now. It was quite obvious Courtney didn’t like to be alone, she just wasn’t programmed that way.

“I take great offence to that” She quips at you “But onto bigger and better conversations. How excited are you for the interview tomorrow? What are you wearing?”

You adore the thrilled squeal in her voice. But honestly, you were more nervous then anything. This interview was big for you and Cake Faced, could be a tipping point for your small business. And although you’d always been good at talking to people, you couldn’t help but be shitted just thinking about it.

The rest of your Target trip with your best is spend planning your outfit for the next day to the T.

—————————-

Your up before the sun the next day, even though you’d popped a few sleeping pills the night before. You cant help it, your internal clock is wound tight in anticipation. So you take your time getting ready, spending hours perfecting you hair and makeup and then making a large, over decadent breakfast that you no way could eat yourself. You tend to cook when your nervous. Or sad. Or angry. It was just what you did, tried to pour the anxiety out of you. You end up packing the eggs benedict into containers, you’d bring them to work and feed the staff.

You check yourself over in the mirror, applying one last coat of neon-red orange lipstick and checking out your reflection. You’d chosen a sleeveless top. Because the weather was warm. Fuck if your arms looked large and jiggly in them, you tell yourself. You look damn good, and your determined to make a damn good impression. Confidence. Originality. Hard work. Those we’re your words that you had lived by and if you were going to be printed in the pages of a magazine, you were going to make sure they shined through. You with one last tousle of your hair, your out of the door. Walking tall in your heels.

After priming and primping the shop to look just how you want it to, you wait for the journalist. She’d said she’d be arriving at about 11 or so, so you did have some time to kill.

You prep the cupcakes your featuring, show casing. The Cookie Monster, The Lemon drop and the Red Velvet Classic. You want the batch’s to be perfect, and you don’t trust anyone but yourself to make them, so donning an apron you get to work. Your deep in concentration, squinting through one eye with and biting your lip when you hear a knocking on the doorway.

You look up and you cant help but smile.

“Hey there” Lance’s leans against the door frame, his arms folded over his broad chest as he watches you. He had been for a few minutes, before he’d decided to make his presence known. You just looked so cute, focusing all hard like that.

“Hi” You grin, “What are you doing here?”

He pushes himself from the door frame, coming towards you in long legged strides so that he can press a kiss to your lips “I had to come wish you luck, didn’t I?” he mumbles against your mouth and you sigh, leaning up on your heels, wanting more.

“Why thank you sir”

He pulls away first, his thumb coming to swipe at the corner of your lips, assuring that your pretty lipstick stayed in place. He’d had his fair share of interviews, he knew how important it was to keep your appearances. “You look nice”

Your chest swells at the way he says it, his sapphire eyes appraising you as they swept over your body “You think?”

“Mmhmm I do” He says cheekily, as his palm planes up your side, skimming your waist, coming up to cup the side of your breast. You exhale shakily and lean against him, your arms twining around his neck as you soaked up the gentle attention he was giving you. You loved this side of him, the gentle needy touches. The affection. It turned you to jelly because truly, you’d never thought he was capable of it.

Lance loves the soft feeling of your body under his hands, he wants to dip under your top, feel the bare skin but he refrains(just barley), not wanting to wrinkle your outfit. It was funny, he thinks. That you were the one doing interviews, your face going to be posted in magazines and he was the one all but hiding from the media. When the story of the gym had dropped on CNN; it had been a shit storm, just like he knew it would be. It would have been hell for him, if it wasn’t for you. You stuck close to his side through it all…he kept thinking you might bolt. Might retreat, go back to hating him. Like everyone else seemed to.

The least he could do was not get you all flustered before you had to go out and be professional.

He had really been a big help with all of this, he’d told you how it was going to go. To be the charming little shit that you were. He used that coach tone that made your panties wet too, which was an added plus.

“I should go” Lance says, checking his watch. He knew the magazine would be there to set up soon and he didn’t want to be at the shop when they arrived “Good luck, baby cakes. You’re going to do fine, just feed them a few of those cupcakes and flash those pearly whites and you’ll be set” He assures but you don’t want him to let go of your waist.

“What are you doing later tonight?” You ask him, holding his bicep.

“Mmm, I was hoping you” Lance’s tongue comes out to swipe across his bottom lip in a way that makes your heart pound with what your about to say next.

“Charming” You tease, poking at his arm muscle “What about if you come over to my place? I could make you dinner? There might be a little wine involved?” A little more then wine, you don’t say it. But your eyes do.

“I’ll fucking be there” Lance says quickly and you chuckle “You need me to bring anything?”

“No. I’ll stop at the grocery store before I go home. Just bring your appetite and that cute ass of yours” You waggle your eyebrows and he grins.

“That I can do” He beams, giving you a wink, before he’s out of the door.

Your heart flutters uneasily and you shake your shoulders in excitement before going back to your cupcakes.

—————————————–

The interview goes well, fuck it goes more then well if you do say so yourself. The interviewer is a bright, bubbly intuitive woman and the two of you talk about a range of subjects: from how social media had helped to kick start your business, to what it was like to be under thirty and be your own boss. You crack jokes, you show case your sweets, you plaster on the charm. You take some awesome pictures; the photographer had set up amazing lighting in the shop. You wondered if you could set up that kind of lighting in your bathroom, it would really up your selfie game. When they leave the shop you feel accomplished and bold and electric.

A lot like you felt the day you’d put the down payment on your store, signed the lease and gotten the keys.

It was such a rush! It might be bad thing, the way power amped you up…

After doing a happy jig with Shane who was taking the managers shift for the day, you decide you might as well head to the market and get your shopping done. You wrack your brain for recipes as you head there on foot, deciding not to waste how the gorgeous afternoon weather. It was only a few blocks…or ten. Yeah, you kind of regret it when your pumps start to pinch your toes but whatever. Your still riding that adrenalin rush.

All the way through the isles of Walt’s grocery store, collecting ingredients and grinning like a mad woman.

“What’s got you so happy, little miss?” La'tecia queries as she checks you out. Your glowing, looking radian. She doesn’t think she’d seen you look like this in years. Most days you we’re so tired, your everyday life draining you of that bright light that now gleamed in your eyes. You looked a lot like you did when you’d come with your mama every weekend to buy candies by the pound.

You tell her about the magazine and the interview and when she tells you how proud your mother and grandmother would have been of you, you attempt to compartmentalize it, to suck down the emotion that burns your nose.

“Don’t go making me cry, I worked really hard on this makeup, okay!” You laugh it off.

“You planning on celebrating tonight?”

“Something like that” Your lips quirk as she rings up not one, but two bottles of white wine.

“With someone special?” The knowing look she gives you isn’t discreet. She’d heard the rumors, even though she tried her very best to steer clear of poisonous gossip. Lance Tucker had been the talk of the town since he’d come home, but since his face had been plastered all over the nightly news, he’d been the talk of the nation. The scandal of it all was insane, and to top it off, everyone was buzzing about how you two had been spending a lot of time together… The Olympic athlete and the fat girl. Who'da thunk?

“Eh” You tease, shrugging your shoulders but then you giggle “Yeah, he’s special I guess”

When your done paying, taking the bags in your hand she spits some real life truth at you.

“Not as special as you, Y/N. Don’t forget that”

Those words would stick with you for the rest of your life.

—————————————–

Your phone is sandwiched between your cheek and your shoulder as you stand at your stove, working between pans of simmering food. Music blares through the speakers and your hips sway to the music as you cook.

“You coming soon? I’ve almost got dinner ready?”

“Yeah, I have to do something first, but I should be there in a half an hour-ish?” Lance replies over the phone and you huff excitedly.

“Mmm, good. I might be a little bit excited to see you” You stir at the vegetables. You were definitely excited. The matching lace bra and panty set you’d changed into was a big indicator of the fact. You felt devilish knowing they sat, waiting for him, under your clothes.

“Yeah? You going to be nice to me tonight?” his words are dripping with anticipation.

“If you earn it” you quip. Knowing that you weren’t really going to make him wait. If anything- you’d be jumping his bones as soon as he walked through that door. You’d been torturing yourself as much as you’d been torturing him with this whole “hard to get” act and you were done with it. You wanted it. Wanted to be his. Wanted to let him have whatever he wanted.

You squeezed your thighs together just at the thought of it.

“Fuck- your going to kill me. Okay, baby, I’ve got to go, I’m driving. I’ll be there soon”

“I’ll be waiting”

“Naked?”

You shake your head, looking at your celling. Lord, help me.

This. Fucking. Man.

“No- but I made some really good food for you so there’ll be that”

“Thank fuck, I haven’t eaten all day…you going to let me eat that pretty pussy of yours too?”

You squeak at his forwardness. Even though it was nothing new. He was one crass motherfucker and had been whispering the dirtiest shit into your ear for weeks.

“We’ll see. Drive safe, Lance” when you hang up, you reach for your glass of wine and take a swig, hoping that it might help quell the bubbles of nervousness in your stomach. Shocker, it doesn’t. If anything it makes them worse.

So does the next glass.

As you wait for Lance, the minutes ticking by. You’d finished dinner, and had it low simmering so that it would still be warm when he got there…

If he ever got there.

Because thirty minutes roll by.

And then forty five.

And then an hour…

You send him texts. Asking him where he is? Is he close? Did he get lost?

You cant help it, the dread that sets in. The way your mind clouds with doubt and fear. He’d blown you off. He’d bullshitted you. Had this been a mistake?

The reasonable side fights your insecurities.

Bitch, he’s done nothing but try since he got back it hisses at you. You need to stop being a crazy, insecure child.

You drown both of them with wine. Your sitting at your kitchen table, feeling a little more then a little crestfallen as you talk to your dog.

“You know what, if he doesn’t show, I cant even be mad. I mean I will be fucking pissed, don’t get me wrong. But mostly at myself. Because do people ever really change?” You speak to the lapdog as though he’s a human being. He was the smartest person you’d ever met you decide. He looks at you with unamused beady eyes.

“And I’ve always been so stu-”

The sound of the doorbell stops you in your tracks. You hop up from the chair and have to force yourself not to run to the door. Be cool. Be calm.

Told you so, your reasonable side shoots at you as you open the door.

Lance is standing there, in your door way. His lip is bloody and his right eye looks like its just starting to swell up.

“Lance?” You gasp.

“Hi baby” He holds up the expensive looking bottle of scotch he’d brought to 'the party’ “Sorry I’m late”

——————————————–

@huntressxtimelady @i-had-a-life-once @peacefulwriter88 @spookyscaryscully @zombiewerewolfqueen @adyseesbeauty @geekyweed @pegasusdragontiger @booklover2929 @ultrafangirl000 @acunningstargazer @curvybihufflepuff @la-meneur-louve @tatathekissypotato @iamwarrenspeace @the-loud-and-crazy-rabbit-pirate @aknerdchick @avinaris @yslbucky @sophiealiice @sebstanwassup @4theluvofall @wildefire @debbielovesbucky @peaceloveancolor @effielumiere @ballerinafairyprincess @zofty15 @feelmyroarrrr @plumfondler @theplumclub79

Okay…don’t hate me. I had planned on making this chapter the one. The glorious smut filled one. But then I was like lemme’ hit them with some angst and I ended up with this. THE SMUT IS COMING. LET ME REPEATE. THE SMUT IS COMING NEXT CHAPTER. I’ll see you hookers then! Leave me some love, I love on you guys comments.

[ivyfics]

With me - Chap 2

They’ve been here a while. Tetsurou says ‘we’ because—even if Blondie over there isn’t really aware of it—they are both in the room and involved in the same activity, so technically they’re hanging out. As uncaring as he might seem, All Leg has gone through maybe a third of his clothes trying to pick an outfit for what Tetsurou assumes is his first day of college.

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Pairing: KuroTsuki Rating: M Chaps: 2/? (May change in the future) Additional Tags: Ghost!Kuroo, Haunted!Tsukishima, Tiniest bit of crack, Future angst

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“You’re blonde and pale, can you please steer away from anything other than mustard? Yellow is the ugliest color, I swear,” Tetsurou huffs. Blond Beam stands in front of his open closet with a hand on his hip, the other holding a hanger. “You’ll never make friends wearing that color. This is why you’re a loner.”

They’ve been here a while. Tetsurou says ‘we’ because—even if Blondie over there isn’t really aware of it—they are both in the room and involved in the same activity, so technically they’re hanging out. As uncaring as he might seem, All Leg has gone through maybe a third of his clothes trying to pick an outfit for what Tetsurou assumes is his first day of college.

He does so neatly, pulling out and laying them out on the bed along with black denim and socks that have turtles on them.

Turtle socks.

Turtle. Socks.

It took Tetsurou a while to move past that in particular. He wants to wear turtle socks.

The latest item Legolas pulls out is this yellow flannel, and out of all the things that anyone in any corner of the universe should wear, yellow flannel is not it. “People who wear yellow are probably sociopaths or psychopaths or whatever is it that murder people, and you know why? Because they wear yellow.”

Yellow Monster glares at the shirt with intensity before sighing and putting it back. Tetsurou applauds. “Seen the error of your ways? The universe thanks you.”

Thranduil yanks a grey sweater and uses his pointy elbows to jam it on. Denim comes next, along with those turtle socks—and god, Tetsurou is going to have to find a way to steal them and wear those socks on his ghost feet—before the phone laying on the bed lights up in alarm.

Slenderman goes to stand in front of the bathroom mirror, Tetsurou trailing after him. He fidgets with his clothes, straightening non-existing wrinkles. “Nervous, huh? You’re hot enough, you’ll be fine.”

Chocobo moves on to fiddle with his hair, face going pink with agitation until he’s interrupted by a second alarm coming from the bedroom. Skinny Marilyn Monroe ( and that’s a reach so maybe it’s time Tetsurou quits the nicknames. He doesn’t need them anymore, so it’s time to say goodbye) makes a beeline for his boots by the foot the bed before marching down the living room, grabbing his bag along the way.

He’s already had breakfast, and double checked that the bag has everything he needs. Tsukki is an early riser which is nice, it means Tetsurou is left alone to entertain himself less. When he reaches for the doorknob Tetsurou settles on the couch, television cracking to life. “Have a nice day, don’t be a creep and sit in the back alone without talking to anyone and become that kid with no friends that no one would notice if they went missing!”

The door slams behind him.

“They grow up so fast,” Tetsurou mutters, wiping an imaginary tear.

It’s around mid-morning and Tetsurou is bored out of his mind. A lot of being dead is floating around doing nothing, waiting for things to happen. He knows he’s hit a new low when Maurice from the apartment downstairs starts his regular shower show, belting out show tunes and pop hits that go above and beyond the hiss of the shower and whatever the walls in the building are made of, and Tetsurou sighs in content that something is happening.

Perched on the window, there’s nothing but an overcast sky and Maurice’s janky voice filtering in. He’ll go on singing for at least the next hour, way past when the shower’s been shut off, or until the old lady from across the hall yells at him to shut up.

Everything playing on in the t.v is a rerun Tetsurou has seen at least thrice, so he sits there, making the curtain sway with a swing of his finger.

He lasts an hour before he has to do something. Anything. The Old Lady from Across the Hall—Tetsurou doesn’t know her name, the only reason he knows Maurice is named Maurice is because of the lady yelling it at him every other day, and while he could try and find out, leaving the apartment leaves him feeling strange and staticky like his tongue is made out of vibrating white noise—shut the concerto down twenty minutes in, leaving Tetsurou bereft of any entertainment.

He doesn’t know when Tsukki will return but he hopes it’s soon. Maybe Tetsurou can try to scare him again and redeem himself for the previous six times it hasn’t worked.

Living with Tsukki is nice. That’s what Tetsurou calls him. Tsukishima seems a little too distant now that they’re basically sharing an apartment, but Kei seems too informal when they haven’t had a proper conversation, y’know? Tetsurou sticks with Tsukki when his marvelous nicknaming skills fall short.

(Maybe his skills fall short more often than not but no one being around to see your fails and embarrassments is a perk of being not alive.)

It’s been a couple of weeks now, enough for him and Tetsurou to have established some sort of routine. Tsukki goes to class, loiters or whatever, comes back and keeps to himself until it’s time for dinner and the kitchen becomes his domain.

In the most superficial of ways, that boy does not belong in the same group as all the previous tenants. He’s organized and quiet. He likes to read. Two of the boxes were mostly books, now laying around the apartment against corners with the lack of a bookshelf.

He reads books bigger than Tetsurou’s head, putting them down faster and faster.

Keeps the apartment clean. Doesn’t let dishes pile up, takes out the trash on time. He cooks. Really cooks, chops and dices and does that fancy prep thing with a French name cooking shows always talk about. He’s the picture of a normal, level-headed dude.

At first glance.

What Tetsurou wants to know is who let this kid live by himself.

Who used to share a house with him and looked at him, fully knowing how his living habits are and said yeah, sure, go on.

The dude sees the t.v on after he shut everything off? Doesn’t blink.

Tetsurou forgets he’s not alone in the apartment because the dude is super quiet and maybe starts picking shit up and slamming it back down when he’s bored out of his mind? Doesn’t come to check what the noises are.

Walks in when Tetsurou is lifting shit in the air? Like nothing’s happening.

Leaves the door unlocked at night.

Doesn’t check that the windows are closed.

Goes to sleep with wet hair. Do you know how terrible that is? He could stretch or pull on the hair shaft and destroy those beautiful, blond locks with breakage and—

He forgets to turn on the heater until he wakes up at three in the morning, freezing to death.

Where is his head?

That boy is going to catch pneumonia and get fucking murdered.

Tetsurou gets his answer a couple of days later.

Tsukki is being weird. While he’s in no way a slob of any kind, and Tetsurou is eternally grateful about that, he’s not a neat freak either. There’s a healthy amount of cleaning and organizing going on in their apartment in general but today’s Tsukki gone off the rails. He’s been cleaning and dusting and moving stuff around all over for about an hour already, no sign of stopping in sight.

If the calendar Tsukki has taped to the wall by the window is right then today’s Sunday, the day of the Lord, and Tsukki spent the last 36 hours vegging out and reading this massive ass book until his alarm interrupted him early this morning. It’s what Tsukki does, he sets alarms for everything. Every little thing has an alarm, then two follow-ups.

There’s one for waking up, for when he has to shower, for when he has to leave. Tetsurou’s gotten pretty used to having some Marimba No.5 or whatever start playing in the background, shortly followed by Tsukki pacing.

The last alarm went off about thirty minutes ago but Tsukki paid it no mind, he kept moving and sweeping, and the windows—

He’s scrubbing their kitchen counter (again) with viciousness when the doorbell rings.

Tsukki responds to it the same way a dog perking his ears would, head snapping up to stare at the door with a tilted head. His glasses are askew and sliding down the bridge of his nose, Tsukki standing still. He tries pushing it back with his forearm since he’s wearing gloves, wet and sudsy from the soapy water he’s using to clean, but all he accomplishes is plastering a strand of his hair to his forehead and Tetsurou laughs. It bursts out of him, short and wheezing.

There’s just no explanation for whatever the hell is going on.

Tsukki dumps the sponge in the sink with a throw, gloves snapping off, and braces himself with a breath before heading to the door.

No sooner Tsukki opens it than he’s being crushed against a strangers chest. There’s a small oof from Tsukki but no attempt to break free of the embrace. Tetsurou is immediately hooked. He needs to know who this is. Its obvious Tsukki has been expecting them and the barrage of cleaning is finally explained.

Tetsurou floats over, hand on his chin, to take a closer look. There’s a Tsukishima in the doorway. So much is obvious by the height and frame, confirmed by blond locks the same shade as Tsukki’s. He hugs Tsukki with enthusiasm, hands encompassing him tightly. One of the hands on his back barely moves, laying a tad awkwardly and it takes Tetsurou a couple of seconds to recognize it as a prosthetic.

After one last squeeze, Tsukki pulls away softly.

The other Tsukishima is smiling and happy, hand curling around the top of Tsukki’s arm. “Kei! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, did you settle in okay?” His face falls minutely before he continues, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it, they sprung a late meeting with some investors that were visiting on us and I couldn’t slip out.”

“I told you it was alright already,” Tsukki rolls his eyes, stepping back. “Are you going to come in or are you planning on loitering around my entryway forever?”

“Shoot!” The other Tsukishima peels off with a laugh. They shuffle in, some of the tension that has been plaguing Tsukki's shoulders having melted in their embrace. It's the first time Tsukki's had anyone over in the short period of time he's been an official resident of the Ghostcrib™. Hell, it's the first time Tetsurou has seen him interact with something that's not made out of paper and ink.

Tsukki is a nerd that reads a lot is what he's trying to say.

The other Tsukishima takes off his coat and lays it on the back of the couch, then does that weird half-sit on the edge of it. He's taking a look around, eyes roaming over the still damp counter, the door to the bedroom, the window that's Tsukki's left open again. Weirdly, he frowns when he reaches the area where Tetsurou is floating.

Tetsurou slowly leans back, wary.

The moment doesn’t last long, brown eyes moving along with a tad of apprehension still in them and Tetsurou takes a deep metaphorical breath of relief. Some people are sensitive to things like Tetsurou. It’s happened before, mostly with people coming in to see the place when it’s in-between tenants. They walk in and start to look around, trying to figure out why the place feels off. Some take one step in and immediately back out, unnerved, but this is the first time he’s seen someone accurately pinpoint his location.

Good for the other Tsukishima, he has a good head on his shoulders unlike the clueless, oblivious mess Tsukki’s proven himself to be.

Older Tsukki’s eyes land on the pile of books stacked neatly in the corner and smiles, pleasant even when his eyes dart back to the stain on the wall next to Tetsurou every so often. Tsukki's been quiet the whole time, kind of zoning out and he's startled by Mr.Smiles voice when he speaks up. “Are you sure you’re done, is there anything I can help with?”

Tsukki rolls his eyes again. There’s a pattern here. “Aki, it’s been three weeks.”

Aki, huh? So this is Tsukki’s someone. He’s too young to be his father, so either a brother or a cousin of some sort.

Look at him, deducing shit. Tetsurou could be a detective if he wanted. And if he wasn’t dead.

Aki shakes his head, taking Tsukki’s antics at face value. “How has is it been, living on your own?”

“It’s been okay,” Tsukki shrugs.

Now it’s Tetsurou’s turn to laugh. “Sure, it’s been okay. Just fine. Leaving the door unlocked for anyone to break in and not noticing you’re sharing a living space with the literal undead. It must be nice to take things so easy,” Tetsurou mutters, eyebrows wiggling when Aki tries to sneak a glance in his direction again.

Aki nods. “That’s good. I can still ask for a transfer, you know. We could room together…”

“Absolutely not,” Tsukki straightens up, “stay exactly where you are.”

“Alright,” Akiteru laughs putting his up in a sign of peace. Is he always this peppy? “Are you ready?”At Tsukki’s blank stare he elaborates, “I’m taking you out to dinner.”

“But I was going to cook—”

“Kei, live a little. I couldn’t be here to help you move in so I’m buying you dinner to help ease my conscience.”

“Fine,” Tsukki relents, fakely put out. No one’s put out by free food, not even book-munching nerds. “Let me change into something else. I didn’t think we were going out.”

Tsukki trods over to the room, the door closing with a click.

The change is immediate.

Aki’s relaxed posture stiffens. He starts walking around the room, trying to figure it out. Tetsurou’s sorry, he really is. He doesn’t mean to make people uncomfortable. It’s funny as shit watching them walk with their head whipping around as if the chick from the ring is about to pop out at any second but he doesn’t mean to.

Aki seems like a nice enough guy, so Tetsurou is going to leave and hang in Tsukki’s room for a while. He’s not even started to float his ghostly behind to the bedroom when Aki is blocking his way, hands on his hip and staring at the curtain behind him. Tetsurou swerves to the side, eyes wide.

What the hell?

This has never happened before.

Aki waves his hand right next to Tetsurou’s arm, eyes narrowed. Extra brownie points for accuracy but Tetsurou would enjoy not being almost smacked. Humans touching him feels icky.

If he really wants to scare someone Tetsurou just runs right through them. It feels like garbage to him but both times he’s done it the person stands there, horrified and catatonic until something snaps them out of it and they run away.

Instead, he topples one of the books by the corner with force, the sharp thud when it falls catching Aki unaware and making him jump about a foot in the air.

It gets a grin out of him. At least one Tsukishima can be spooked.

Aki seems to be going for another try when Tsukki comes back in the room, looking sharp and effectively diffusing Aki’s attempts at playing ghostbuster. Tetsurou whistles, dropping whatshisface and that entire situation in favor of trailing after Going Out Tsukki. He’s wearing a navy crew neck sweater and cuffed up blue denim, topped by an olive pea coat and Tetsurou is here for it. “Oooh, you look good.”

Tsukki is more of a comfort dresser than whatever this is but Tetsurou is not going to fight it. Tsukki should dress like this always. “I wish I could style your hair,” Tetsurou sighs.

Smart Casual does have wonderful hair, and if Tetsurou could style those soft curls with a little bit of a pomade, maybe something sleek and a little to the side—

Hold that thought.

Tsukki’s wearing squirrel socks. Light green squirrel socks with fluffy tails and acorns. Tetsurou halts and points to them,“There are so many questions and so little answers.”

Tsukki takes a while to come back from his dinner date, but when he does Tetsurou manages to catch the end-tail of his and Aki’s conversation before Tsukki is carefully shutting the door on him and power walking to his room.

If Tetsurou could sleep, he’d be having a hard time getting some shut-eye right about now.

The night is quiet, rays of silver and blue lighting the room where Tsukki sleeps, feet tangled in the sheets. He kicks around in his sleep, surprisingly.

Before you judge him on being a creepazoid and looking at Tsukki sleeping, Tetsurou would like to submit some evidence to the court of why he is not. He’s not sitting there in a corner watching Tsukki sleep and mumbling to himself like he’s the lead in a cold open of an SVU episode. Tetsurou’s restless, head going a mile an hour, and the soft sound of Tsukki snoring helps him think.

There’s something about Aki’s parting words earlier that week that keep throwing Tetsurou for a loop.

“Kei, there’s something weird about this place.”

“What do you mean weird?”

“I don’t know, I just feel iffy about it! I still think I should request that transfer.”

“Aki, don’t. We’ve been over this, you’re not transferring.”

“I don’t want you living here by yourself, or at all. Just think it over, okay?”

He—

He doesn't want Tsukki to move. Not yet.

Tsukki is the least annoying person to live in this apartment, and Tetsurou is including himself because oh boy , Tetsurou has probably always been a handful.

Not to get absolutely real for a second here but the reality of being a ghost is monotonously dull and sad at its worst. And boring. God, is it boring. Tetsurou would willingly watch paint dry some days.

Having someone new move-in is fun. You get to see what makes them tick, what they like to do in their spare time. How you act when you think no one is looking is the truest version of you, unafraid and free of expectations. Tetsurou’s seen the truest version of a bunch of people, and while Tsukki isn’t the most fun person around, he’s decent. Sometimes he starts to hum out of the blue, the soft sound filling the walls of the apartment and breaking that oppressive silence Tetsurou’s come to accept as his reality.

He doesn’t immediately seek to shut off the strange voices filtering in from the living room when Tetsurou’s tired of listening to his own head and makes the screen flicker on just because. Tsukki lets them run through the night and while that’s maybe not the best habit—or aiding his utility bill—it’s nice to room with someone who doesn’t mind.

Someone who doesn’t spook easy (or at all.)

Someone who’s a little careless.

Someone Tetsurou can exist around.

Tetsurou’s taken to picking up the slack.

It’s not the most genius plan or anything, but if Tsukki is a little more comfortable here, he won’t wanna move. Also, those tiny details drive Tetsurou crazy so it’s a win-win.

He closes windows at night, uncaring if they slam down because it’s not like Head in the Clouds over there is going to check what the noise is anyway. Turns on the heater at night. Locks the door, randomly puts a towel on the bed when Tsukki is taking a shower before bed.

He’s got it down.

It becomes so normal that he starts not waiting until Tsukki is out of the room. Sees him pull out a hoodie and turns on the heating. Closes the window when Tsukki is reading on the beat-up couch and Tetsurou sees him shiver.

Another week passes. Two.

It’s almost the end of month three when it hits him. He got a teensy bit distracted by his novela and started floating a towel on the bed with Tsukki already sitting there.

He’s making a towel float. In plain sight.

Tsukki’s playing on his phone, rivulets of water dripping down his neck and staining the collar of the t-shirt he wears a darker shade of green, but even the most clueless person on the planet would notice if a towel with pink flowers suddenly happens to appear out of thin air.

Tetsurou hasn’t been discreet.

Tsukki probably knows the place is haunted.

No matter how oblivious a person might be, there’s no other way to interpret the situation.

This is it. All or nothing.

Tetsurou leaves the towel on Tsukki’s bent knees slowly and does nothing else. He stands by the end of the bed with (an emotional) baited breath. This could backfire in the worst ways and just like that Tetsurou’s days of peace will be gone—

“Thanks.”

Tetsurou chokes on nothing. Tsukki’s grabbed the towel and is now rubbing it on his hair in small circles which is so so bad for it, you have to pat—no matter that, Tsukki thanked him.

He.

He’s still in the same position on the bed, face buried on his phone, but Tetsurou did not imagine that. Tsukki thanked him.

No one’s ever thanked him for doing ghost things before. They freak out or look around to see if it’s a prank but he’s never been thanked. Granted, Tetsurou hasn’t ever used his spooky powers for useful things before, but that’s not the point.

Tetsurou’s chest swells, warm and dopey and good, syrupy giddiness holding him to rock on the spot where he hovers. He can’t remember the last time someone addressed him.

“You’re welcome.”

Things change after that.

Tetsurou’s presence, as open as it was before, becomes exceedingly obvious. He tries to tone it down a little, lest Tsukki freaks out after the fact, but life is good right now.

Things carry on the same in the way that Tsukki doesn’t care. Tetsurou’s free to do as he pleases without having to deal with a bunch of shrieking morons, calls to Karen, and that one time someone brought an exorcist to try and kick him out.

It was some dude baked out of his mind chanting some weird thing or the other scamming the one tenant out of fifty bucks so Tetsurou was all clear on that one, but what a waste of an afternoon.

“I can’t believe you even own those pants. Who has access to corduroy anymore? Next.”

Tetsurou floats upside down above the bed, Tsukki’s earbuds hovering with him by grace of his wiggling fingertips. Tsukki has study group today, or at least that what his phone said when Tetsurou looked.

They’re doing their usual bit, Tsukki trying to get dressed and Tetsurou stopping him from committing a fashion crime and melting someone’s eyeballs off. Sweatpants are off, Tsukki is in his underwear and Tetsurou keeps floating shirts away and towards him in a twisted version of dress-up.

The angle lets Tetsurou ogle Tsukki’s back, particularly that row of four moles just at the edge of his ribcage that’s kept Tetsurou’s attention since he floated up there. “I’ll give you seven million dollars if you have ever worn those pleather pants more than once. Outside. Where people can see you.”

Tsukki hangs his head in defeat when Tetsurou pulls another garment away from him. They come to an agreement, some black joggers—because Tetsurou can compromise— and a white shirt with a grey hoodie on top.

Tetsurou picks out the socks though, and the Pikachu ones are calling his name. Tsukki’s alarm goes off again, and Tetsurou glides across the living room to the door automatically. Tsukki grabs his stuff and stops by the shoe rack.

“Those shoes? With that outfit? No.” Tetsurou knocks the right pair into shins.

Ghosts don’t have a lot of base needs.

They don’t eat. They don’t breathe. Thirst is only of the metaphorical kind. Tetsurou doesn’t get horny. He gets restless. And bored. What do people do when they get bored?

They play with their bits.

It’s a slow build up. Tetsurou doesn’t do it often seeing as ghost climax is akin to setting an exposed wire on your tongue. It’s not the rapid firing of nerves that curls toes and jerks hips, nothing like that wave of pleasure that whites out vision and leaves you dumb and lax while you bask.

It’s energy vibrating, rapid explosions and waves, being electrocuted until you’re left phasing in and out of existence for a bit. Tetsurou is still not sure how he feels about it, but he does it anyway because it beats doing nothing and having his head replay that one Rihanna song Maurice was singing three days ago one more time.

Having some visual aid doesn’t help his case either.

Kei—Tetsurou calls him Kei now, seeing as they’ve had at least one conversation if by a conversation a ‘Thank you’ and ‘ You’re welcome ’ is accepted—is out of the shower and walking around half-naked. It’s his usual routine, Tsukki usually comes out of the bathroom fresh-faced and with a clean pair of undies on. Sometimes with socks (each and every pair more adorable than the last).

Tetsurou would be lying if he said that peek of skin every day didn’t intrigue him. That it didn’t make him curious. But, Tetsurou has boundaries and he’s not about to burst in on one of Tsukki’s showers so he can see how far the birthmark low on Tsukki hip extends.

Usually, that glimpse of skin isn’t enough to motivate him.

Today Tetsurou is restless. He’s bored.

Tsukki’s been out all week doing a thing or another so he’s been left to stew in the apartment all by himself with only Maurice and Federico for company, and then Kei forgets his underwear when he goes in to take a shower so Tetsurou gets enough to kick him into gear.

Kei is hot.

He really is, that’s fact.

Tetsurou has enough time to respectfully ogle him from where he’s flat against the wall above the closet and today is the day. Sticking a hand down his pants is odd. Clothes don’t feel like clothes, they feel like layers. Peeling back a thin sheet of the universe.

Tetsurou sends a quick apology Kei’s way for using him as part of the spank bank, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Tetsurou’s going to have some private alone time. Not that all time isn’t private alone time because, you know, he’s dea—

“You do know I can see you, right?” Tetsurou’s head whips up, and sure enough, there’s Tsukki staring not at his vicinity or whatever might be behind him, but right directly at him in nothing but his undies and baby blue cloud socks and Tetsurou can feel himself shrivel under the intensity of that glare.

Tsukki’s mouth twists. “You disgusting little man.”

PREVIOUS CHAP   - NEXT CHAP - INDEX

[blondiefrommars-blog]

Mountains: Chapter 1: The Invitation

          I had just picked up my mail from the slot in the foyer of my apartment building. Bill, Bill, Junk, Invitation? What the hell? I was flipping through each of the envelopes when I found a heavy envelope. On the back, “You are invited…” etched into the heavy, expensive parchment. I entered my apartment, my brow still furrowed. Who the hell would invite me to anything? I was running through all the friends I had. It was November 1st and people were already talking about going home for the holidays. I used to get excited for the holidays. Nowadays, that was not the case. I was alone. My family didn’t want me around. I had made the decision to move to a different state and I was practically banished. It wasn’t like I lived across the country, oh no I still lived on the same coast. Roughly a 17-hour drive away. Or a flight was just under 3 hours. Did I ever get an invitation to go home for the holidays? Nope. What I did get was a Skype call, and everyone telling me that they missed me.

             On the flipside, I was the only Vegan in my family. If I didn’t go home for the holidays I didn’t inconvenience my mother or my sister with food prep. I simply picked up the makings for something that I normally wouldn’t eat, most of the time it was pasta, a nice bottle of wine, and a 2-person chocolate fudge cake. Which took me forever to eat. Most of the time it would go bad and I would throw it away. I didn’t have any pets, and most of my friends, well they had their own families.

 I made my way further into my small one bedroom apartment. It was the perfect size, with an open floor plan. I even had an island and breakfast bar. I threw the 2 bills onto my desk, I had already paid them, the junk I tossed into the recycle bin, and then I studied the last. Why the hell am I so nervous it’s just a fucking envelope. Open the damn thing and get it over with. I grabbed my tea, that I had left to steep as I retrieved the mail, and sipped. My phone started buzzing across the counter, signaling someone was calling.

 “Hello.” I said.

 “Did you get it?”

 “Hello, Sam. Get what?” I knew his voice. He was the 1st friend I had made when I moved here. He even let me crash on his daybed when my apartment complex burned to the ground. I had met him at a hiring fair. When I moved from Washington State, I had a job lined up, I was waiting for the flooring in my apartment to be redone, and my parents were meeting me down here. I was in an Airbnb and I was so excited to be in sunny California. Little did I know that the job that I had accepted came with a few job descriptions that I hadn’t signed on for. The main one being having to sleep and pleasure my MARRIED boss. I had been employed for less than 3 hours when I got my first proposition from that slim ball. Needless to say, his wife caught him, and that was the biggest blowup I had ever witnessed in my life. After that marital spat, I found myself outside a giant job fair. People were in serious need of able bodied workers. I was walking around picking up applications and business cards when I was practically run over by a skinny brunette man. He didn’t even flinch. We were fast friends. It also helped that he was wearing a Thirty Seconds to Mars shirt; and my Mars tattoos on my arms were showing.

 “Don’t play that card, I know you. You are probably staring at it, with such force it will burst into flames any minute.”

“Sorry. I dazed out for a minute. What are you haranguing me about?” I shook my head, with my eyes closed.

 “Oh. So, you are telling me you haven’t received an envelope made out of very expensive paper with the saying, ‘You are invited…’ on the back? Cause seriously, if you haven’t I have a different phone call to make.” Sam said.

 “Oh yeah, I am staring at. Did you send it? What the hell is it?” I inquired.

 “It’s the invite of the year, woman! Chris has added us to the guest list for the weekend getaway of a lifetime. You, me, and all the other guys are going to WA mountains on Chris’ dime to eat, drink, snowboard, ski, hike, and climb for 4 days. We leave this Thursday.” Sam was practically screaming. I could hear him vibrating through the damn phone.

 “Who the hell says I can go?” I spat at him as I ripped open the envelope. There is was the official invitation, these damn things were like gold to people. This was a resort that was all inclusive, I’m talking alcohol as well, gear for all excursions. This is the getaway that celebrities when on. Why the hell am I invited.

 “Oh please, you are so going. I mean you work for Chris essentially. I bet he would be pissed if you didn’t go.” Sam said.

 “Shut up.” I retorted, the lamest come back. My phone beeped, “Sam let me call you back.”

 “Ok lovely.”

 <New phone call>

 “Hello, this is Emma.”

 “Hey Em, its Chris. I wanted to make sure you got your invitation.” Chris said.

 “I did. I literally just opened it. Can I ask a kind of weird question?” I ventured. I didn’t want to sound rude or anything. But I’m a nobody, why the hell do you want me to come hang-out with you and all your famous friends.

 Chris Stevenson, is one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles. He is a self-made millionaire. To be honest I don’t know what his first big break was, he has like 16 companies he is CEO of. I am simply the head accountant/kind of an assistant/friend. Sam is friends with Chris, and knew he was in need of an experienced accountant. Sam had invited me on a hike/climbing trip with him and his friends. That’s how I met Chris and all of the others.

 “You are a friend Emma. Please say you’ll come. Please. I already told a bunch of the others that I have an awesome new girlfriend coming. And don’t worry I already made it clear that you are a friend that is a girl, not the other way around. Besides I need you to come up there and show off your moves on the slopes. Please?” Chris’ charm was oozing threw the phone.

 I had my eyes closed. Okay so it does sound really fun. “Fine. Who all is going?” I replied.

 “Everyone. I gotta go. I’ll pick you and Sam up at your place around 8 on Thursday Morning. I’ll have your favorite coffee. Deal?”

 “Deal.”

[ilsa-makes-things]

Cooking at Ragnarok: Tips from the Drentha Round-Robin Meal Plan

My camp at Dagorhir’s Ragnarok, Drentha, has been doing a “round-robin” meal plan for the past five-ish years. Rather than forcing everyone to fend for themselves, or shoving the burden of cooking onto just a few people, we all sign up to cook one meal. It’s worked really well so far, but we’ve collected some tips that make things work smoother. Below is the post I share every year within our camp’s Facebook group (another excellent thing that helps us keep organized.) I thought I would share it so a. I didn’t have to dig it back up every year, and b. in case someone else might benefit from it. So, here’s something close to what I would post. Use it however is useful to you! – Hail, Drentha and friends! We have a LOT of folks on the meal plan this year (more than two dozen at last count?!) so let’s talk about how to make your meal go as smoothly as possible.

How the Meal Plan Works

We have people sign up to cook either one breakfast or one dinner. (You’re on your own for lunches and snacks.) The cook pays for all the ingredients for that meal, which “buys” them all their meals cooked by other people for the rest of the week. The cook makes the meal and is in charge of clean-up for it. Phoenix (note: one of our senior members with a knack for herding cats), bless her, has generated a list of who cooks when, because it’s really easy to forget when your turn is coming! We’ll save that list and have it available as a reminder on-site.

(Note: if your camp is smaller, you might want to only do dinners. If your camp is large, you might consider letting people pair up to cook! We’re at about thirty people this year, so we’re now pairing up to cook dinners.)

The meal plan isn’t mandatory— you don’t have to join in, but it’s a good way to get to know the people in camp and spend some time hanging out. :)

We make a reasonable attempt to accommodate dietary restrictions and food allergies. We usually make a separate post about this in our camp Facebook group. We’ve successfully navigated vegetarianism, fish allergies, and Celiac disease. If you have a restriction, you’re the one responsible for explaining it in advance!

You’ll be cooking on camp equipment in a rustic setting. We have several small propane stoves, a camp fire, a grate to go over said fire, pots and pans, and other basic gear, but if you’re making something that needs unusual utensils, please bring them yourself.

Tips to Make the Plan Work

We’ve been doing this round-robin meal plan for a few years now, and it’s mostly worked great. Here are a couple things we’ve learned while using this system. If you’re new, PLEASE read it and take it to heart. If you want help or have any questions, don’t hesitate— we all want to be well-fed, so we’d be happy to help! :)

(Note: some of this is specific to our camp, so edit where you need!)

So, please:

1. MAKE ENOUGH FOOD.

We’ll be burning a LOT of calories at Rag, so everyone will be very hungry, even at breakfast. Your meal should include protein, fat, and carbs. Don’t just guess at how much you need to buy— use this catering chart to figure out how much to buy per person, then add about 30% to your total. Plan on at least 4 oz of protein per person and lots of carbohydrates. When in doubt, buy a bit more.

This gets expensive (Alric and I usually spend about $50 on our ingredients), but remember that cooking your meal buys you TWELVE other meals. If you’re worried about not having enough food to go around, add a cheap carb (quick-cooking rice, $1 loaves of French bread from Walmart, instant potatoes or oatmeal) to make sure everyone gets enough. Ask yourself– does your meal look like 13 meal’s worth of food?

Remember, also, that the meal plan is opt-in. If you don’t want to (or can’t afford to) take a meal and want instead to handle all your own food, that’s fine. We all have different budgets, and we all understand!

2. BE PESSIMISTIC ABOUT COOKING TIMES.

Even if you can cook your meal perfectly at home, it WILL go slower at Rag because you’ll be cooking over propane burners and for 22 people. You should plan to leave the battles by 4:00 PM if you’re cooking dinner that night. Starting at 6:00 is a recipe for everyone still being hungry and cross by dark. Even water for pasta (as I now know, to my chagrin) takes forever to boil on a camp stove!

To help everything go faster, prepare as much as you can in advance. You can pre-cook and freeze meat, pre-cut your vegetables, even freeze cooked rice. If your meal is early in the week, you can just cook it at home, put it into the cooler, and re-heat it on camp.

Write down your cooking times and quantities so your meal prep goes smoothly. If you have your directions or recipe printed, other people will be better able to help you!

Don’t be afraid to ask for help when cooking, but remember that there’s no guarantee anyone (even noncombatants) will be in camp to assist you exactly when you need it. Your meal is your responsibility, so if people are kind enough to help, that’s great, but it’s still best to be conservative about what you can accomplish.

Raw potatoes, bone-in chicken, and dried beans are famous for taking FOREVER to cook! Bone-in chicken takes four to five HOURS to cook. Raw potatoes for two dozen people can take TWO HOURS. If you’ve cooked these at home, you’re probably rolling your eyes and saying I’m crazy, but remember that you’ll be making vast portions in small(ish) pans. Even hashbrowns take forever to cook when they’re layered in the pan four inches deep.

So, if you MUST use these ingredients, prepare them as much as possible at HOME first. Peter did pre-cooked potatoes for breakfast one year, and they were amazing.

Undercooked food is, at best, unfulfilling (you haven’t actually fed people if you’ve given them half-raw crunchy potatoes), and, at worst, unsafe (the famous lamb incident of ’10). Take this seriously— we don’t want anyone to get sick from food!

3. BE CONSIDERATE OF YOUR CAMP-MATES.

This goes both for cooks and consumers. For those eating, let’s all be in camp at 6:00 and ready to eat. It’s really tempting to wander away while food is finishing, but “I’m just going across the street, be back in ten minutes” often turns into “where the heck is Ilsa, and do we have to save her food?” It’s frustrating for the cook to try to keep food hot and unspoiled, so please be there on time.

Cooks, let’s be considerate to our friends. Sometimes people have a legitimate reason for being absent, and nothing is more discouraging than returning from War Council and finding that everyone had second helpings while you got nothing. If someone must be away during dinner time (ie, for the camp master’s meeting, teaching a class, war council), set aside a BIG portion for them, or send a runner up with a plate. Conversely, if you KNOW you must be away during dinner, TELL the cook and ask them to save you food!

Be realistic on what you need to save for those who are missing, so our absentees or late-comers don’t come back to find they’ve been “saved” a single sausage and a scrap of rice. That’s just cruel.

And lastly, remember that cooking your meal includes cleaning up after your meal. Everyone is responsible for their personal eating utensils, but the cook cleans the cooking utensils they dirtied. Food safety includes thoroughly washing your dishes in hot water, and “us not frowning at your in a really disappointed way”-safety includes cleaning up promptly so we don’t wake up to dirty dishes covered in bugs and rainwater the next morning.

All of this sounds pretty dire, but it’s best to be a little worst-case scenario about these things. Cooking your meal should be fun, and it doesn’t need to be difficult, but it SHOULD be carefully planned in advance. Feeding two dozen people is serious business, and having two dozen people mad ‘cause they’re starving is even MORE serious!

If you need help planning, shopping, or cooking your meal, please ask for help. Even on the busiest of Ragnarok days, we would all rather pitch in and help than go hungry. :)

–

(Note: I hope this helped some of you and that you’re considering trying our round-robin meal plan! It’s lots of fun, and it guarantees you get lots of variety in food and time to hand out with your unit. Best of luck, and happy eating! ~Ilsa)

[tmntreasures]

Honor Among Thieves Ch.14

Note: It’s another long one, so I’m putting it under “Keep Reading!” Hope you enjoy! ;P

With the help of Raphael, Aida was able to wrestle Bonnie to sleep after about thirty or so minutes. Aida turned in for the night soon after, but the turtles stayed up doing their nightly activities. Once it was morning again Aida left for her family, but Bonnie was lost in deep sleep. Her eyes flickering, as her mind dreamed. It conjured a scene believable to what she was currently living in real life, except there was one thing out of place...

"Drake?" She narrowed her eyes in disbelief when she saw the rapper waltz into the main room of the lair with a baby in his arms.

"Yeah… Long time no see." He answered while staring down at the baby.

Bonnie grinned happily and clasped her hands together. "You remember me from the two thousand and sixteen concert? I stole my way into the backstage meet n greet!"

"Yup," He finally looked up at her as well as gazing around the room. "Sooo...This your crib?"

She scoffed and laughed nervously. "Nah… Just some stupid boys I know." She stopped and licked her lips. "Sooo... Can we have sex?" She asked.

Drake clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. "I got a damn baby in my arms!" He gestured to the child.

"Well, just give 'em to the rat! He's old like a grandpa and stuff..." She shrugged.

"There's a rat here?" He raised a brow.

"Mhmm, and four turtles." She nodded and shrugged.

Drake couldn’t help but to laugh a little. "What the fuck?"

"I know, but you get used to it." She laughed with him.

He stared at the baby for a while in thought, before clicking his tongue again. "Alright." He sighed and put the child to the side.

"Yay!" Bonnie clapped her hands happily and quickly ran over to him. He put a hand to her check and leaned forward to kiss her. Right as their lips were about to meet, she could feel herself being shaken out of her dream. At first, she thought Drake was calling out her name, but after a few seconds the voice started to alter into someone else’s.

“Bonnie… Bonnie… Bonnie wake up!” Leonardo ordered as he shook her shoulders lightly.

She opened her eyes slowly as she was dazed. It took her eyes a few secnds to adjust and when she saw who was standing over her, she growled. "You're not Drake." She pulled her covers up and over her head.

"That is correct." He huffed and grabbed the blanket, yanking it off her.

She gasped a little and latched onto it, pulling it back to her. "Leo, fuck ooofff!" She grumbled as her head began to pound. "I mean- What time is it anyways, you shouldn't even be awake."

"It's seven in the morning, and you wanted jiu jitsu training. Remember?" He said before grabbing her by the ankles and pulling her off the couch.

"No!!" She cried out and dug her claws into the furniture, trying to hold on. "I was just kidding! I'm good!" She whined.

"There's no escaping now. Not even if I have to drag you to the dojo." He smirked and promptly did so.

Her hangover was starting to settle in hard, making it hard to resist him. "No, Dojo Daddy please!" She begged and she was pulled across the floor.  "Don't punish meee..."

Meanwhile, above the surface, Aida was prepping lunches for her siblings again. Riqui and Rosa were both sitting next to each other, their eyes glued to the comic book Michelangelo had lent to her.

"Aida!" Rosa looked up and pointed at the one of the pages, "What's this word?"

"Gonna have to spell it out for me," She responded as she began to make PB&J sandwiches. Breakfast took longer than usual to make since the twins got excited over the comic book. She had to tell them they were only borrowing it and told them to be gentle with it; of course then she had to scold them when they almost ripped a corner, which made them cry and then she had to calm them down. For six thirty in the morning, they were already being so emotional.

"D-o-u-c-h-e," Riqui answered for her.

"Oh, that's 'douche'," Aida replied.

"Well, what is it?" They both asked.

She hesitated, but before she could make something up, Montae hopped down the steps and answered. "It's a weird thing girls use to clean their coño."

"Montae!" Aida snapped at him and shook a finger, "Language! They're eight!"

"So?" He shrugged, snagging an apple from the fridge and dodging her slap. "I heard worse things from--" He stopped when he saw the comic book and snatched it from the table, ignoring the twins' cries. "W-where did you get this!?" His eyes were wide as he flipped through the pages before staring at the cover.

Aida furrowed her brow before answering, "A friend lent it to me so the twins could read it. Why?"

He snapped up at her and pointed at the thin book, "This issue is worth two grand and he let you give it to some babies?! Es un maldito idiota!"

"Hey!" She growled at him. "He's not an idiot, he's just nice!"

He huffed and shook his head. "Nice people are idiots, hermana," he clicked his tongue and shook the issue. "Betchu he's trying to get in your pants. Better watch it~."

It was her turn to scoff and she rolled her eyes. "Yeah right," She argued. "I'm not his type." She finished packing their lunches and snapped her fingers. "Go get Orlan and give me the comic book, it's time for you guys to go to school."

"But we're not done reading it!" Rosa complained.

"And you will finish reading it tomorrow," Aida explained. "There's no way I'm leaving any of you alone if that comic really is worth that much!" She held out her hand and glared at her brother.

 He hesitated and finally clicked his tongue, handing it back to her. "Fiiiine..." He stomped up the stairs and soon the four of them were ushered off to school before the girl returned to the lair below, the comic issue tucked safely in her bag.

"Stop it." Leonardo said sternly as he dodged the kisses Bonnie was trying to put on him.

"What?" Bonnie giggled and grinned. "C'mon, you can't say this wouldn't catch you off guard in a fight." She fidgeted trying to get out of the hold he had her in.

"No one would fall for this in real life!" He argued.

Bonnie clicked her tongue and smirked. "Your brothers did!" She perked her brows at him.

Leonardo growled and sat up on his knees. "If you're not gonna take this seri-" He stopped when he saw her trying to crawl off and he grabbed her by pants and pulled her back. "Listen!! Ugh... You're worse than Mikey, I swear."

"Uggh! We've been at this for hours! I haven't even eaten breakfast!" She groaned.

"It's called discipline! Once you actually participate, you can have food!" He responded.

---

Raphael was watching them from the other side of the room, chuckling at the torture Bonnie was putting his brother through. It was fun seeing Leonardo get frustrated and flustered; it showed the fearless leader had weaknesses after all.

"Wait, she's actually doing the training?" Aida piped up as she entered the lair.

"Yeah," Raphael answered, his eyes never leaving the girl's form as she struggled beneath the blue-clad turtle. "She's really putting up a fuss. It's really cute."

The latina girl raised a brow at him and smacked his arm. "Ooooh. The big one does like chocolate~." She teased.

"N-not like that!" He defended himself, shrugging away from her. "It's just...i-it's funny, okay? Leo says he can do sooo much better than all of us, but even he's having problems with her!" He grumbled and began to walk off. "Where's my egg? I need to keep practicin'..."

---

Bonnie huffed as she sat up on her knees. "If I manage to punch you in the jaw, will you let me go eat then?"

Leonardo scoffed, "You can tr-" He stopped and moved out of the way when she swung at him. "Like I was saying-" He moved again.

"Hold still will ya?" She growled and swung at him again. This time he caught her fist and countered her with a punch back in the arm. "Ow!!" She screamed and immediately tended to her shoulder. "What the fuck?" She hissed.

He shrugged. "What? I'm not allowed to hit back?"

---

"Yo, it's too early for this..." Michelangelo yawned as he strolled into the kitchen of the lair.

Donatello noticed Michelangelo walk in; the noise had awoken the tech-loving ninja as well, but he spent his time making some coffee and checking out the police chatter. "Mornin' sunshiiine!" He teased his little brother.

"Mmm" Mikey grumbled and dropped a pair of poptarts in a toaster. "How long have they been at it?" He yawned again.

"For a couple of hours," Donatello answered before turning to the monitors. "I kinda got good news though. I've been keeping tabs on gang activity and it looks like whoever was after the girls got bored." He frowned a little and shrugged. "So...they won't need us anymore."

---

Aida shook her head as she watched the two spar. "Go for his elbow!" She hollered at Bonnie. "He's ticklish there!"

"Nah, behind the knee!" Raphael added as he walked back to the viewing area, the egg in his hand. "He hates it there!"

---

"Look," Bonnie said in a hushed tone. "Let’s make a deal. I let you win, and you let me eat. Everyone will see how high and mighty you are. That's what you want right?" She nodded.

Leonardo smirked and shook his head. "You say it like you could actually beat me. Also, I'll get more satisfaction out of it if I can actually break you."

She groaned. "I'm not a fighter!" She whined.

"Well what would you do if ran into somebody while stealing?"

"I would run! That's what I do! I run! I could out run you!" She nodded.

He scoffed. "No you couldn't."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but an idea came to mind and she raised her brows. "Wanna make a bet?"

Leo mimicked her expression and crossed his arms. "I'm listening."

"We race, I win, you let me eat. If you win-"

"You will call me sensei. No more Dojo Daddy…" He interjected.

She smirked and shrugged. "Deal."

---

"A race?" Raphael echoed.

"I feel like I've seen this before..." Aida mumbled as she recalled the story of the Tortoise and the Hare. She looked at Raphael and held out her hand. "One hundred pesos says she wins."

He gave her an incredulous look and huffed. "I don't have that kind of money! Besides, I know how fast she is. Of course she'll win!"

Aida smirked and shrugged, "Dude, one hundred pesos is five bucks."

He furrowed his brow in disbelief, "Wait, seriously? Why didn't you just say that then?"

She wiggled a finger at him. "Because it's fun to see people who don't know get flustered."

---

"Alright," Leonardo stood up on his feet and held out a hand to Bonnie to help her up too. Bonnie huffed and stood up on her own. Leo sighed a little and walked out of the dojo. He nodded in the direction of the exit they used for the turtle van. Its pathway was clear since the van was currently waiting outside the sewers. "There." He said. "Well start at the entrance, go all the way down, and then circle back."

Bonnie laughed mischievously and walked to the couch to get her shoes. "You about to get schooled boy."

---

"Don't look so sad Donnie!" Mikey responded as he waited on his poptarts to be cooked. He leaned back on the counter and crossed his arms. "This just means we don't have to worry about them as much, aaannddd-" He pointed a finger at him. "It also means we can visit now!" He grinned.

"Visit?" Donatello furrowed his brow and smirked a little. "You really think they're gonna let us visit them?" He nodded off in the direction the girls were in. "Aida's got a large family, so good luck staying hidden from them. And Bonnie..." He paused and frowned, watching the girl getting ready for her race with Leonardo. "...I don't know if she'll want us to visit."

"Aww, c'mon. Bonnie?" Michelangelo looked over in her direction as well. "I think she just plays hard like Raph, but deep down inside she's got a creamy center."

“You ready for an ass whoppin?!" Bonnie taunted loudly as she bounced back and forth on her feet.

Michelangelo cringed at her remark and licked his bottom lip. "Uhh.. Besides! If we can't hang out with them, we'll just take them out! Go to the Statue of Liberty,  watch a basketball game or something." He finished and just as he did his poptarts popped from the toaster. He immediately went after them and flinched back when they burnt his fingers. "Ow!" He hissed and stuck them in his mouth.

Donatello hummed in thought and shrugged. "I guess so..." He was a little hopeful the girls would still want to be friends with them; after all, their three other human contacts did.

---

"All I hear is a lot of bark. No bite." Leo held out his arms and shrugged. "Aida! Count us down," he ordered and then got into position.

Raphael sat on a ledge and grinned, still fiddling with the egg. This was going to be great! Leonardo could finally get a taste of just how tricky this girl was; then he would have to admit it was never his fault she got away in the first place! He tapped Aida's arm and grinned, "Be sure to record the ending. I wanna re-watch Leonardo's face when he loses."

Aida giggled and nodded before holding her hand in the air. "Five...! Four...! Three...! Two...! One, GO!" She slapped her hand down, signaling for the two to begin.

As soon as the final word left Aida's mouth, the two were off. They were head to head for a while, sometimes one advancing the other, but neither of them ever got too far behind. When they were coming up to the turn, Leo glanced over to Bonnie for a moment and saw that she was looking right back at him. She gave him a mischievous grin before looking forward again. This was where she kicked it up.

Instead of touching the floor with her hand and turning back, she kicked off the wall in front of her, using the moment to give her a boost. She dashed off when she touched the floor, and it was double the speed she was running before. Leonardo cursed under his breath when she cut the turn so cleanly; wondering why he hadn't thought of something like that himself. He thought about how he might make it if he pushed himself into a sprint, but realized it was an useless effort. She was fast, really fast. Faster than him, but he was gonna finish this race. Even if it was after her.

Bonnie cackled when she crossed the finish line. Taking in a deep breath and grinning at Leo when he came in several seconds after her. "Dojo daddy for life!!" She pointed at him.

He stared down at her and thought about excuses he could make to justify his lost, like how she was smaller and thinner than he was, and how in a real race if she didn't touch the ground she would be disqualified, but he knew there was no glory in being a sore-loser. Instead he stood tall and smiled at her. "Good job." He patted her shoulder and walked past her. "What would you like to eat? I'm cooking."

Bonnie blinked in surprise at how well he was taking the loss. It was definitely not the reaction she expected, or the reaction she wanted. "…Wait, what?" She called out to him.

---

"Aww what? Leonardo's gonna cook?! I would've waited if I knew that!" Michelangelo whined and tossed down the half eaten-poptart in front of him.

Aida grinned and cheered loudly, "Yeaaah! Kicked his ass puta!"

Raphael was grinning widely and threw his arms in the air, inadvertently throwing the egg across the room. "Yeaah!" He cheered and ran up to Bonnie, scooping her up easily before setting her on his shoulder. "Ya did it! Ya beat his smug lil' face!" He held on to her legs as he spun around, laughing and grinning.

Bonnie gasped a little when Raph picked her up, though she smiled when she saw how excited and proud of her he was. She giggled and puffed out her chest, placing a hand to it. "Well, ya know. Somebodies gotta do it~"

Leonardo rolled his eyes and went to the cupboards. "Do you like pancakes?" He hollered out.

"Hell yeah, I like pancakes! Oh!--" She snapped her fingers and pointed. "Throw in the nutella we got!"

Leonardo chuckled and sighed. "Fine."

"Ooh! And we still have some strawberries left I think!" Michelangelo added.

"Woohoo! Pancakes! Pancakes!" Aida began to cheer as Donatello rose from his seat.

"Wow! You actually beat him!" The lean turtle beamed, clearly impressed. He knew she had been fast, but not that fast. The girl really was like a rabbit.

"I told you guys," Raphael huffed, still carrying the girl as he walked over to their little dining area. "But did you guys listen? Nooo!" Very slowly he squatted down and slid her to the floor, smirking proudly when he noticed he didn't hurt her this time around. Bonnie stood up proud, placing her hands on her hips and grinning widely.

Michelangelo walked over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair for him to sit in, He leaned back in it and crossed his arm. "I always knew she could do it." He smirked.

"How?" Leonardo asked as he mixed the ingredients together for pancakes. "We just decided to have a race."

Mikey shrugged and kicked his feet up onto the table. "I could see the urge for a challenge in your eyes." He clenched his fist at his brother. Leonardo rolled his eyes.

"Man, I forgot how good that felt." Bonnie put a finger to her lips and smiled more. She glanced around at the other turtles and raised a brow. "Anyone else wanna go? I can wear heels if it would make it easier on ya." She teased.

Donatello laughed and raised a hand, "I'll go! But, please don't wear heels. I see April wear those and don't know how she does it..." Without thinking, he pulled out a chair for Bonnie to sit in.

Raphael, of course, jabbed his thumb into his own chest. "I'd like a rematch! This time, I won't get stuck in no alley!" He grinned, loving the idea of a second chance to catch her.

"Okay, we watched the same race right?" Aida gestured between herself and the giant turtle, sitting next to Michelangelo. "She fuckin' flew!"

"Well, yeah..." He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "But I still wanna try!"

Bonnie couldn't help but grin ear to ear from all the praise she was getting. It reminded her of her younger days in high school when she was on the track team. "Try all you like big boy, but you ain't gonna beat me~" She said, sliding into the chair Donatello had pulled out for her.

"Oooh, I'll try," He grinned playfully. "And one day, I will!"

"I'm good." Michelangelo replied. "I know when I'm beat." He nodded.

Donatello rolled his eyes but smiled, sitting down at the table. "Better get used to it," He told Bonnie. "In case you haven't noticed, Raphael is stubborn. Once he's got his mind made up, nothing will change it."

The large turtle huffed, "Damn right!" He paused and began to search frantically for a particular item. "H-hey! Where's my egg at?"

"You threw it, remember?" Aida answered. "Right before you picked up Bonnie."

He grabbed his head and groaned. "Arrggh! Damn it! I was doing so good!"

"Well, you managed to pick Bonnie up without crushing her," Donatello grinned. "So I don't think you need it anymore."

"Wait, that's why you were carrying that thing around?" Bonnie raised a brow at Raph. "Practicing for little ol' me?" She teased and poked him in the arm with a finger.

He blushed and shrugged away from her. "W-well, you know. I was sick of making you cry..."

"Aww!" She cooed and squeezed his arm. "You do have a heart afterall!"

"Or a hard on..." Michelangelo mumbled.

Raphael punched Michelangelo hard in the arm but kept the smile on his face. He took the spot in between the girls. The five of them talked as they waited for the food, laughing and having a good time.

After about fifteen minutes, Leonardo came to the table with two stacks of pancakes. One shorter stack coated with nutella and strawberries, and a larger regular stack. He sat the nutella pancakes in front of Bonnie, and then the regular pancakes in the middle of the table for everyone else to share.  He passed out plates and silverware before setting down next to Donatello. "Dig in." He said.

"Oooh!" Bonnie cooed and grabbed a fork. "This looks so good! I can't believe you act-" She stopped and shook her head. "Thanks."

Leonardo waited with his fingers intertwined for everyone else to dig in before he did. "You're welcome." He smiled and nodded.

Donatello took four pancakes while Raphael grabbed six. Aida only took two and nodded at their stacks. "Better be happy you boys work out so much. Otherwise you wouldn't have six-packs," She nodded, taking a small bite.

"Well, Leo's cooking is really good." Donatello said around a mouthful of food. "But we get so exhausted from training we hardly ever have time to cook."

She frowned a little, "Is that why you guys order so much pizza?"

Raphael shook his head. "No. We order pizza 'cause it's great."

She clicked her tongue and shook her head. "You clearly have never had good tacos."

Mikey jabbed his fork into the stack, pulling three pancakes back to his plate. "Tacos are so messy though." He argued.

“What about sushi?" Bonnie chewed on her food. "Seems like something you guys would be into."

"Sushi's great." Leonardo nodded and grabbed him a plate of pancakes. "But it takes long to make, and fresh fish is better than frozen. Which we aren't going to get any of around here."

Aida chewed her food quickly in order to argue. "But wait. You guys are turtles. You can swim!" She gestured to the room, "Just go for a swim and find some fish in the river or something!"

"Are you talking about the Hudson River?" Donatello pointed a fork at her. "You do realize that river is disgusting right?"

"And you guys live in a sewer," She shrugged.

"Sure, but we're clean about it," Raphael counted on his fingers. "And we're not eating the shit people flush down."

"Not to mention all that pollution might mutate us more than we already are," Donatello chuckled before taking another bite.

"Speaking of which..." Bonnie swallowed. "Is it-gonna rub off on us?"

"What?... The mutation?" Leo raised a brow.

"Yeah." She shrugged.

Leonardo laughed. "No." He shook his head and smiled. "Well, at least I don't think so?" He looked to Donatello for reassurance. "I mean, April and the others have been around us for a pretty long time and no mutations yet." He laughed again.

Raphael shifted in his seat and swallowed. "Well...April's thumbs are kinda wide actually." He pointed to his own thumb, "I don't remember them bein' that way when we first met."

Donatello shook his head, "No, they were like that. It's called 'clubbed thumbs'." Aida cringed a little at the confession, but sighed of relief when the purple turtle corrected him.

The red turtle turned to Bonnie and nodded. "Okay, you're good."

"What's wrong with a little mutation? You guys could be the first giotles!" Mikey chimed in.

"Giotles?" Bonnie repeated.

"Girl turtles!" He grinned and laughed as well.

Bonnie closed her eyes and shook her head. "I should've known." She sighed.

Aida huffed and pointed, "If I had a choice to mutate into something, it wouldn't be a turtle. I'd be a mongoose."

Raphael snorted and shook his head. "A what? That sounds ridiculous. How is that better than a turtle? Can it even swim?"

The girl shrugged, "No idea, but mongooses fight and eat snakes for breakfast. You gotta admit, that's pretty bad ass."

He wiggled his fingers and acted impressed. "Oooh, snaaaakes! So scary~."

Leonardo chuckled and sighed. "Sooo, you girls must be excited to sleep in your own beds again, huh?" He raised his head.

Bonnie's eyebrows perked, and she didn't realize what he had meant right away. "Huh?"

Leonardo blinked and returned her confused look. "Uh...You guys get to leave." He said slowly.

Her eyes grew wider and she was quiet for a few seconds before speaking again. "O-Oh! Right!" She stared down at her plate in thought. Somehow, this place had felt like a second... She frowned at the thought, not wanting to admit it.

The thought didn't shake Aida too badly since she was able to return to the surface every morning. However it still made her frown a little. "Well, sure but...we'll still be allowed to visit right?"

The question took Donatello off guard so Raphael answered instead. "What's this? You sayin you're gonna miss us?"

"I figured I'd ask so I know if I gotta steal something first to get down here." She grinned.

"Of course!!" Mikey jumped in happily. "Visit us whenever you want!"

"Just try not to bring anyone else back with you... We'd like to keep our status unknown to the public." Leonardo added.

"Aww darn," she snapped her fingers, "I was hoping to bring my whole family!".

"Oh, speaking of which! How'd the kids like the comic?" Mikey asked.

"The twins loved it!" Aida beamed. "Montage says the issue is worth a lot of money..." she frowned and nodded off deeper into the room. "I brought it with me so they wouldn't ruin it."

"Yeah, Donatello said it was worth a good amount but-- There's not much we can do with money so I never really worried about it."

"Wait..." Aida looked at him and narrowed her eyes. "You knew it was valuable. And let a bunch of kids read it anyway?"

Mikey smiled a little and shrugged. "Why not?"

"W-well..." she started, completely caught off guard by his selflessness. "Most people wouldn't let kids look at something worth that much..."

"Hmm, it is worth a lot isn't it?" He tapped a finger on his arm and looked up in thought. "You guys don't have much either... Why don't you sell it?" He looked back down to Aida.

Leonardo blinked in surprise and nearly choked on his food. He bumped his fist to his chest to clear his throat. "Wait, what?"

"What?" He looked over to him innocently. "Like I said before, we don't really have much use for money. Practically everything down here we either found, or made." He shrugged again.

"Y-Yeah, but Mikey.." Leo fumbled for words.

Aida's eyes widened and she smacked her head on the table. "No way! I'm not selling your comic book!"

"Well technically, it's not even mine, I just found it." He stuck out his tongue. "Just do it! I want you to have the money! You need it!"

Aida was conflicted. On the one hand, the issue was worth enough to keep her family in the house and fed for a month or two. On the other hand, guilt made her hesitant. They had caught her stealing numerous times, hadn't turned her in, and kept her and her friend safe from a mad man. If she accepted, she would feel like a bum.

"I'm not going to sell your comic book, Michelangelo." She stated firmly. "I...I'll get a job instead!"

Mikey went to speak again, but Leonardo jumped in before he could. "That's very admirable of you Aida." He nodded. "And we're gonna hold you to it." He pointed at her and smiled a bit.

Mikey huffed and leaned back in his chair with crossed arms. He was disappointed when she wouldn't take his offer, and thought he was doing a good deed, but he couldn't force her to do something if she didn't want to. He hummed and tapped his finger on his arm again. "Well... If you ever really need it. The offer still stands."

She nodded at Leonardo before turning to the smaller turtle. "Thank you," she squeezed his arm a little and smiled. "I mean it."

"You're welcome." He said and returned the smile.

---

Bonnie was still fixated on her plate. She touched her food with a fork every once in a while, but didn't put anything in her mouth. She couldn't believe this was really happening. Right now, she was sitting at a table with four, teenage mutant ninja turtles; eating a home cooked meal with them like they were family. Her heart skipped a beat when the thought crossed her mind. Soon they'd be taking her back up the surface and saying their goodbyes... She thought she'd be happy when she left this place, but now she was unsure.

Raphael frowned at Bonnie, noticing the change in her mood. Before he could say anything, Donatello spoke first.

"You okay Bonnie?" The leaner turtle asked, genuinely concerned.

"Huh?" Bonnie perked up. "O-Oh! Yeah, I'm good. My stomach just hurts a little cause I ate so fast." She clenched on to her gut, trying to make the lie a bit more believable.

"Oh," Donatello shrugged, "Well, we should have some medicine if you need it..." he trailed off.

Raphael stared at the girl, knowing she was lying. He knew that tone and that look before. Though he didn't know why she was lying, he still felt a little upset. Things were starting to get good and feel normal. What happened to change that for her all of a sudden?

"Nah, I'll be alright." She waved him off and stood up from her seat. "I'm gonna hit the shower... If we're done with training, Dojo Daddy?" She raised a brow at Leonardo.

He shook his head but smiled. "We're done for the day."

"Good." She nodded, and left the table.

Raphael wanted to go after her but figured she really did need a shower to let whatever she was feeling out. He took another bite before standing. "I'm gonna read some comics."

Inside the shower room, Bonnie had the water running, but wasn't in the shower just yet. She was sitting on the toilet with the lid down, thinking about the conversations they had at the kitchen table. She was going to be leaving this place soon, so why wasn't she happier about it? When she thought about the four turtles and how she got to know them her eyes watered and she clenched back the tears. "What the fuck? This is so stupid!..." She hissed and wiped at her eyes. She sighed and looked up to the ceiling, thinking how she didn't want to say goodbye. Somehow the creatures imprinted on her; though she didn't want to admit it. She wouldn't... With a nod of her head, she had made up her mind and decided that she'd would leave tonight, without saying goodbye.

[myaekingheart]

summer road trip 2018 ; day three

I didn’t get a chance to write this out the day of in the hustle and bustle of everything so I‘m doing it now. At 1am on a Sunday night. Oops. But anyways, I slept better on Friday night than I did Thursday night so that was good, even though I shouldn’t have. I slept on the pullout couch in my parents’ hotel room and I could literally feel every single spring in the mattress so that wasn’t fun. And yet somehow I still slept pretty decently. We woke up early, got dressed and showered and whatnot and then we went downstairs for breakfast which was great. I was starving and they had pretty good food. I ate mini omelets and tater tots. We ran into my cousin, the one who was getting married that night, and her family down there, as well, and got to all eat together which was wonderful. I haven’t seen my cousin in ages but I feel like in a way we’re kind of like kindred spirits or whatever. We were really close when I was a kid-- she used to sleepover all the time and she and my aunt would always babysit me, and we had a great time every time even though we’re nine years apart. She was like the big sister I never had, really, and I regret moving away because it meant we drifted drastically. We both are kind of goofy and fun and have anxiety issues and our cats are basically twins so that’s cool. But anyways, so we eat breakfast together and then my dad dropped my mom and I off to go get our hair done. I was incredibly excited since I had really been looking forward to this. Not that I wasn’t excited for the wedding, too, because I was, but I’ve been meaning to get my hair cut for months. I just kept putting it off because I didn’t feel entirely comfortable walking into a Hair Cuttery in my town by myself and running the risk of running into someone I might know or something. I hadn’t gotten a haircut since last summer, though, when I got side swept bangs and layers and in the year since then, they‘ve both grown out and my hair ended up looking kind of lifeless and just...there. I really wanted to do the same sort of thing again, though, and really commit to the indie scene hairstyle I love so much (yeah, I know it’s outdated. Shoot me). My mom went so far as to make an appointment for us, too, which was even better. I was expecting the two of us to sit there getting our hair done shooting the shit and laughing and just having a great fucking time. But of course, let’s face it. This is me we’re talking about here and we all know my luck. We checked in and my mom got called back immediately. Meanwhile I sat there for thirty fucking minutes waiting for someone to call my name. People who had gotten there after me were getting called back before I did. I was about to have a fit. A part of me felt like I was going to cry. I felt left out, truthfully, watching my mom get her hair done meanwhile I was stuck back in the waiting area with no fucking clue how long I was going to be stuck there. I was panicking, truthfully. I started second guessing myself, thinking maybe this wasn’t worth it. Eventually, I did, in fact, finally get called back. I made friends with the girl who shampooed my hair which was probably the only good thing about this trip. Someone else was assigned to cut my hair and apparently no amount of meticulous preparation was enough. I had nearly 70 reference pictures of exactly what I wanted and what I got was honestly not even close. I will admit that there was at least one very valid excuse for why she fucked up and that was because the fire alarm randomly went off while she was doing my hair and she probably got flustered and disoriented or something. Nobody had any idea what was going on and it was clearly stressful for everyone so I mean, I will put that into consideration. Still, though, I don’t think that’s a good enough excuse for what she did. I’ll start with the more tolerable fuck-up: the layers. In that I swear she didn’t give me any. I was watching her cut my hair and I mean, it looked like she was cutting layers into it so I was really confused when, at the end of it all, I looked at my hair and there are legit no fucking layers in there. It’s all one even length. I would know. I got layers last time and it was very clear that I had layers. The most intolerable fuck-up, however, were the bangs. I cannot even begin to explain how disappointed and depressed I am about how she cut my bangs. She apparently had absolutely no idea what the fuck she was doing. She asked me what side I normally part my hair and I told her on the right and so she started cutting with the intention of them sweeping to the right. I told her she could probably tell which part of my hair was once my bangs the last time I got them cut because they were shorter than everywhere else, and she asked me if I wanted them the same thickness. When I told her I wanted them thicker, she looked at me like I had three heads. But I had a goal. I had something in mind. I wanted that typical indie scene hair where your bangs start all the way back at, like, your crown and are all brushed forward. So at least she cut them at the right thickness, even if she thought it was blasphemous. The way she cut them was the most horrendous fucking thing I have ever seen, though. She said something about angling them but the way she worded it made me confused and question whether she really knew what she was doing. I learned quickly that she most definitely did not. Instead of cutting them angling downward like a normal human being, she cut them nearly straight across from, like, the start of my ear to my nose. The only hindrance on the straightness was that it was longer nearer to my face. Like inverted side swept bangs. When she was finished, she asked me how I liked it with this look on her face like “What the fuck kind of weird-ass alien style do you even have?” I lied and told her I loved it. The reasoning behind this was two-fold: I didn’t want her to feel bad if I bitched, and if I bitched I didn’t want her to try and fix it because I knew she’d only make it worse. Afterward I wanted nothing more than to run to the hotel room and just fucking disappear but my mom had some other errands to run and truthfully, I did, too, so we ran to Ulta and got her some new mascara and Old Navy to get me some new flip-flops because the cats completely ruined my old ones (which, truthfully, were ready to go anyways since I’ve had them since like freshman year of high school if not longer). When we were finally done with that, my dad picked us up and let’s just say he definitely didn’t think either of our looked great, either. My mom got a long, layered bob which the hairdresser curled with a flat iron and it looked really cute except for around the face where they curled a few small pieces far too tight which my dad said made her face look heavier and I thought it made her more resemble a poodle or something. At least for her it was an easy fix. I promised I’d work with it myself and make it look better, since I already had in mind exactly what I was going to do with it. My case was much more dire. I had no idea how to fucking fix this mess that this hairdresser made of my hair, and that was terrifying to me. I’ve always been really opinionated about my hair, and it’s kind of a massive source of my self esteem. When I chopped off twenty inches after graduating high school, I had a minor crisis. So you can only imagine how much this affected me. At least the good thing is that I am a wizard at making bad hair look good and messing with hair. That’s one thing cosplaying Disney princesses has taught me. My Ariel wig was bought on sale at a Halloween store and it took me two hours to tease the bangs and shape them into what they are now. I feel like if you look at it, you’d never guess it was $15 from Spirit. But human hair isn’t like wig hair. It’s softer and has a mind of it’s own. And this was perhaps the most horrifyingly drastic case I had ever been subjected to. I feel blessed to have discovered that my bangs looked better if I parted my hair on the opposite side, even if I hate having to do that. One of the big reasons I part my hair on the right all the time is because I have some really intense dry scalp issues on that side only and when I part my hair on the right, it means it’s easier to cover. Plus both Violet Parr and Rapunzel have their hair parted on the right and it made me happy knowing I did the same. Now that my bangs are completely fucked up, though, I have no choice but to revert to the left. Once I discovered how much better it looked when I did this, though, it made fixing it up a lot easier. The minute I got back to the hotel, I made a beeline for the bathroom with a pair of shitty orange scissors (you know, the kind literally everyone has that are dull and from, like, the 90s) and basically went to town. I brushed my bangs forward so that it would start from the crown and snipped side pieces so that I turned this:

Into this (after I also styled it for the wedding):

I feel really grateful I was able to fix it to where it was at least tolerable but my heart still breaks every time I think about what happened and how it’s still not exactly what I want, even after going at it myself. I might just have to go to a hair dresser somewhere in my town when I get home and ask for layers because I was about to do them myself but then I realized I had no idea what I was doing and I didn’t want to make myself practically bald for the wedding. Curling my hair helped a lot, too, since it made my hair look a little more put together and made my bangs look more like what I intended. My hair, both fixing it and then styling it for the wedding, definitely took the longest out of all of my wedding prep, though. I somehow managed to finish my makeup in, like, ten minutes which I thought was pretty impressive. Once I was finished, I helped my mom with her hair and my dad went down to the lobby to bring my grandparents up so we could load my stuff into their car. We decided that because my parents wanted to go around meeting up with friends and drinking on Sunday, and I’m not legal yet and would be insanely bored, I was going to go home from the reception with my grandparents and spend the day with them instead. The only issue was trying to figure out how to get my stuff into their car since my parents were taking the shuttle to the venue and my grandparents didn’t want to come back to the hotel afterward. We resolved to, obviously, have them stop by our place first, load my stuff into their car, and then we’d all leave. I ended up going with them to the wedding while my parents waited for the shuttle over, rather than them pile in with us and only take the shuttle back. My cousin and her fiance got married at a golf resort which I know sounds weird when you first say it but it really was beautiful. When we entered the lobby, there was a glass table in the center with lanterns and pictures of the happy couple. The employees asked everyone to make their way back to the small bar room so as to not congest the entryway. My dad got him and my mom a beer which they then took to the ceremony with them (but then again, my cousin and her fiance are in the brewery business so I mean, the alcohol was a-flowing). The ceremony took place outside “in the woods”, so to speak. When I first heard that, I was expecting a half mile trek into the deep wilderness with bugs and humidity but instead it was right on the edge of the golf course in front of a relatively thick layer of trees. There was a beautiful little arch made of wood and leaves and they were married by a female minister the fiance knew from his youth group as a kid. It was really a gorgeous wedding and everyone cried. My heart melted when the fiance walked up the aisle already crying, and then my cousin surprised him by walking up the aisle to what was his grandparent’s favorite song. After they were officially married, they and the rest of the bridal party ran off to get formal pictures taken while everyone migrated to a patio for cocktails and hors d’ourves. I didn’t eat anything there mainly because my stomach has been finicky and I didn’t really want to push my luck but it was weird to hear my dad say I could have an alcoholic drink if I wanted to so long as my mom got it for me instead of him (for reasons I‘m not going to delve into). I guess he figures with my turning 21 in a week, he’s cutting me some slack and letting me break the rules a bit since I’m so close. I mean, he let me take sips from an alcohol-filled pineapple last summer, too, so.... But anyways, I resolved not to drink anyways because the idea of breaking the law essentially made me anxious, even if it wasn’t technically a huge problem in this case. Cocktails lasted about an hour, during which one of my aunts and uncles gave me my birthday present early (some money and a really awesome collectible Audrey Hepburn lunchbox which my aunt said she found last summer and hasn’t seen the likes of which since) and then everyone filtered into the ballroom for dinner and dancing. I only did one of the two and that was dinner. We had fancy salads (that were legit greens wrapped in a shred of cucumber and it looked cool as fuck), lemon sherbet for a palette cleanser, filet mignon and shrimp with some roasted veggies and mashed potatoes on what I‘m pretty sure was a mushroom??? And then there was an entire room dedicated to dessert, and tons of pizza was delivered at 10pm because why the fuck not. I only ate a bit of the sherbet and then a good deal of the entree and then stopped there because, again, I didn’t want to test my finicky stomach. I spent the night watching all the important dances like the newlyweds first dance, the father-daughter dance between my cousin and uncle, and my mom twirling around the flower girls. Since I under very few circumstances will ever dance, I expected to be really bored the entire night, as I usually am at weddings. Instead, I ended up having a fantastic time talking with one of my cousins who also cosplays. We ended up out in the hallway having a massive fangirly conversation about our favorite characters, our cosplaying, cartoons, video games. It was great. And truthfully, it was the first time we had ever really actually had a full conversation together. We’re friends on social media and shit, of course, but that’s nothing compared to actual, live conversations. It made the night go by much quicker, and much more enjoyably, to be quite honest. So after that and witnessing party crashers, my “I know my limits” father run by me with cake and ice cream yelling “GET JIMMIES! NOT SPRINKLES, JIMMIES!!”, and the groom hoisted onto someone’s shoulders chugging beer and fist bumping, my grandparents decided it was time to head out and so the three of us said our goodbyes to everyone and started the trek home. It was a 45min drive apparently but it felt way shorter either because it really was, or maybe that’s just what a total of 16 hours in a car previously does to you. But anyways, when we got home, my grandfather unloaded the car and I moved into their guest bedroom and we basically all just went to sleep. If we could even sleep. My allergies have been flaring like crazy lately, probably because the pollen is different here and the trees are still a little bare from winter, so I pretty much slept with a box of tissues in my bed but I mean, whatever. At least I slept at all, you know?

[collegeapphelp-com]

19 College Application Tips

hey I'm Ethan Sawyer the college essay guy and in this video I'm going to share with you a ton of practical college application tips including how do you even know what goes into your application I'm gonna share with you two brainstorming exercises that are really effective I'm gonna save you a ton of time I'll also help you figure out how do you even figure out which schools to apply to also why should you not waste time talking about bad grades in your personal statement then I'll share five things that you should definitely put in your application if they are true for you and finally I'll give you some interview tips because I used to interview from my alma mater Northwestern a hashtag go cats let's do it first you'll save a ton of time if you use these two brainstorming exercises the first one is called the everything I want colleges to know about me exercise and it's just like it sounds so you basically take a blank sheet of paper and you basically fill it with everything you want the college to know about you maybe you were like a legit ping-pong champion when you were you know in ninth grade or something or maybe it's like theater is my life put everything you can think of on your everything I want colleges to know about me list go to your local coffee shop spend some time with your friends your family like thirty minutes just filling that paper you can draw write anything you like the second one's the twenty one details and this exercise is a little bit lighter it's not as college focused but it's really poking in like the nooks and crannies of the things you're interested in like weird facts about yourself I always drive with two feet like not a lot of people know this about me and I don't know it's like a random thing the second thing would be I traveled around a bunch as a kid I went to like ten different countries by the time I was four so build a paper with all of these 21 details don't overthink these just spend like half an hour filling the paper with everything you can think of okay once you get to 21 you're gonna start to get in some interesting stuff the first five or six might be kind of boring keep going keep going keep going you might be surprised at how these could lead to either personal statement or supplemental essay topics number two use college express comm to start developing your college list why should you use college express comm because I got a friend his name Steven Antonov he wrote a book called the college finder he's not just my friend he's somebody like I super look up to and he wrote this book that basically has lists of different schools so in this book you can find things like colleges most like Hogwarts or like schools that are great for engineering and he took all these lists and he put them in College Express comm or at least he allowed them to and don't worry he told said that I can tell you that all these lists are searchable and free so if you're like you know a B student and you're trying to find like a hidden gem type in hidden gems for B students okay if you prefer books with actual paper I totally recommend the college finder if not you can find them all online and if you checked out course avec on out course ah that's gonna help you figure out what you're looking for in a particular school it's free and it takes less than ten minutes all right here are three questions to ask when it comes to deciding if you want to apply early decision aka Edie which is a binding decision or Regular Decision aka Rd which is a non-binding decision number one if you got in would you definitely definitely attend this school no matter what related to that number two can you definitely afford to attend this school because if you get in your parents are gonna get a bill for the tuition and if they can afford that it's like man number three will Eadie actually help your admission chances there's a lot of debate about whether applying early helps or not the answer is it depends on the school and get this there's an Excel spreadsheet that actually has all of the early decision and all of the Regular Decision acceptance rates like next to each other and what percentage of students were accepted early and Regular Decision it's another great tool when it comes to trying to make this decision next how do you use that additional information section which is basically that blank space on your common app that's like what else do you want to say now you don't have to use this section but if you choose to use it here are some things you could put in there first you could expand a little bit on one of the activities in your activities list that you didn't get a chance to explain in your activities list description so let's say for example your second activity is let's say Model United Nations and you've spent a ton of time doing it you're the one who founded the chapter your school for example and you've won a bunch of awards that didn't fit into your awards section you could expand on that very briefly in bullet points in your additional information section you can also explain their significant health issues like for example if you had to take a quarter off or maybe you had to take a couple weeks off and that affected your grades you can just put like a quick description in your additional info section also if you've got grades that were like that might raise a red flag you can explain those there finally if you switch schools you can just explain that briefly in like one to two sentences and your additional info you don't need to put that or any of these other things in your personal statement unless these things like really weave in in a really clear way to the story that you're already now having said all that I want to be careful that what you're hearing from this is not okay now just put like a ton of random stuff in your additional info section please do not do that in fact here's some things that you shouldn't put in your additional info section anything that shows that you're like obsessed with grades like maybe you got a B+ in chemistry and you're like huh is they gonna like judge me cuz I got a beep no just just leave it out finally you don't need to put a resume that's basically like a copy and paste version of your activities list your activities list is there for a reason it's your brag sheet it's gonna show them all the things you've done be confident and do a great job there and if you haven't then maybe work on your activities list but don't just put the same information twice here are five things you should definitely include if they're true for you number one if you come from a single-parent household a low-income family or a family where that income whatever the income is has a lot of folks depending on it also if the language that's normally spoken in your home is other than English or if you are the first generation in your family to attend college work this into your application or your essays somewhere now if you can work these into your personal statement if it feels relevant to your main story great if you feels relevant to a supplemental essay great otherwise just make sure these end up in your applications somewhere next recommendation letters here are my recommendations first of all you're gonna need somebody who teaches a core subject at least one person so that's English math science something like that next you're gonna want to find somebody who is taught you recently so that's within the last year or two you don't want to go back to middle school and be like hey coach I need you for this one third you're gonna want to find somebody who knows you well and likes you when it comes to asking somebody for a recommendation letter ask them this question would you feel comfortable writing me a strong recommendation letter because asking it in that way gives the person an out if they need it for lgbtq+ students check out campus pride calm or you'll find a ton of resources from like a scholarship database to an individual action plan for queer college seekers check it out it's such a great resource all right let's talk interviews so first of all you're gonna figure out how much the college actually cares about the interview because some schools care a lot and some schools less oh how do you figure this out google the name of the school plus the words common data set scroll down to section c7 and that you'll get us list of factors if the college considers important and they'll have a check box around interview if they care a lot then definite prep for your interview if they don't care so much maybe you don't need an interview next how do you prepare prepare something that's called a message box which is basically three things that you know you want to talk about no matter what question you're asked so say you're asked the question like what are you reading right now you might be like hmm I'm reading this book called mountains but don't go hmm you might say for example like mountains beyond mountains and they might Billy say okay tell me about it just like yeah what's interesting about this book is that it's having me like rethink health care and in fact it's having me rethink this this trip that I took a sophomore year where we went overseas and we lived in Puerto Rico for a while and you see what I'm doing I wanted to talk about the Puerto Rico thing and I'm finding the connection of the book or maybe it's like what'd you have for breakfast this morning and you might you get what I'm saying here next write a why US essay now these those essays that colleges basically are asking you why do you want to attend our school why do you write this obviously so when they ask you so why are you interested in our school you're gonna have all these reasons like bullet point in your mind because you spent some time researching and thinking about it next make sure you come up with like a really good question or maybe two or three questions for your interviewer so when they ask you hey what questions do you have for me you're not gonna be like I was at my Yale interview for grad school when they're like hey what questions you have and I'm like not pretty good feeling feeling great they're like thank you so much next having great questions especially like a personal question that's not too personal that's something like so what's something that you wish you'd done at school or what's an opportunity you feel like you missed out on and not so personal like hey what drugs did you do like we were like hey what's something that you really deeply regret in your life so not that personal but personal enough that you're able to like establish a human connection with this person across from you just for a second imagine that this person is not an interviewer they're just someone of another human being who's sitting across from you and just get curious about their lives and their experiences it's a great way to establish a connection and potentially have them leave that situation for they like oh that's a pretty cool kid okay so some schools track this thing called demonstrated interest and other schools don't demonstrated interest is basically the school keeping track of like how much you've been interested in them and they track things everything from like did you open their emails to did you click on something in the email - did you then spend some time on the website or have you attended the school like you know then on the college visit or have you attended a college fair and met one of the reps they're tracking this in a lot of different ways but don't freak out not every school is tracking this and not every school uses demonstrated interest when it comes to deciding who they accept how do you figure it out again google the name of the school plus common data set and then scroll down to section c7 and look for where it says level of students interest if it says that it's important then they do track demonstrated interest if not not so much and by the way the Ivy's totally don't track it in order the University of California schools so don't even worry about it with them okay so did you know you can ask for more money I did and I got more money here's what happens when you get in you'll get this financial aid award letter and if the number at the bottom which is to say how much money that you need to pay in order to go there is like not gonna work out for you which is to say like you're not gonna be able to afford it and that's cool you can write a financial aid appeal letter but here's a tip don't write a letter that starts with so just want to let you all know that like school down the road gave me like twelve thousand more so because why I just feel like that's that's gonna just I don't know create weirdness instead start your letter off with thanking them say I'm so excited to go to your school second be really direct with what kind of letter this is it's a financial aid letter and you're you're requesting more money then in really respectful really straightforward terms request more money then tell them why you're a great fit for the school give a little bit of like why us stuff give them the math even if you gave it already in your FAFSA or your original application so they can see why based on this much money that your family makes and this gap you're just not gonna be able to do it without more help include any follow up details like a couple sentences of like how hard you've been working or any like highlights of what's happened since you applied and then close the letter and thank them again in the link below you'll find an example if you're shooting a video for your application here are a couple tips number one use jump cuts which is basically this it's me talking about one thing and then cutting to something else it's the style that most YouTube vloggers use second get a cheap mic you can get one for like ten bucks and make sure that that's plugged into your camera why cuz if you improve the sound your video quality goes up I got mine right here third you can totally shoot a video on your phone it's great it's fine you don't need to get a fancy camera and fancy sound finally when you feel like your application is done do a value scan a value scan is basically putting your personal statement your activities list additional information section and then all of your supplemental essays on one Google Doc and then go through and in the comments like actually note which value is coming through really clearly in your application this is a great way to know if your application is doing its job or not and what is the job of your college application to demonstrate that you will make valuable contributions on the college campus and beyond that's what I got thanks for watching if you've got any questions just type them in the comments below or if you've got like a rad tip that you want to share you can do that as well what else Oh hit me up with a quick like if you liked this video and you could subscribe if you want more videos and then oh go to college essay guide com and I've got lots and lots more tips there see you soon

https://youtu.be/pUc0C19jtuE

[super-dreamilyinstantbouque-blog]

Busting Time Magazine's Why Physical exercise Will not Make You Thin"

Whether you're in the state of mind for a special pie, searching for a paleo-friendly Halloween reward or even merely trying to find something sweet as well as tasty, this paleo fruit cake dish is actually not visiting dissatisfy. That you are a properly that will definitely never ever be loaded, specifically when you are dealt with through a especially mouth watering or even favorite (or often also below average) meals. The basketball or even track mobility device will certainly come to be sporting activities devices made use of through all, whether they have an impairment or otherwise, rather than assistive tools. The majority of international breakfasts are actually no different, therefore again, you save funds, a lot of your time as well as obtain fit. The notion of rank outsiders arising from no place (though that might actually be far retrieved) will end up being an extinction as well as I cannot think about a sporting activity that would certainly certainly not experience for shedding that feeling of just about anything being actually feasible. Our company have to think, provided the proof, that this second brand name involved cutting corners, carrying out traits in slapdash ways, not really valuing the people involved in making the food items - and also consequently not valuing the consumers of the food either. Add flavors for the tongue, shades for the eyes and also the positive attitude that every bite makes you feel excellent today, tomorrow and also per day after that. Meat/poultry produced for meals is just one of the most devastating traits to the atmosphere. This usually just hurts when I decrease steps or even if I bend and also correct the alignment of both legs while status (I haven't tried operating again, however, because I'm attempting to relax that so I can manage tomorrow). If time is actually an impression; after that being actually ever current is actually an automated helping hand on everyone else, due to the fact that they go to the effect of their atmosphere; in a continual limbic feedback instead of experiencing the minute for what this is actually. It is actually so a lot hard work battling against the tide from bum steer, advertising and also consistent accessibility of poor food items selections. Area the pecans into a food processor or even food processor as well as pulse all of them right into a crumb like texture. Lots of commented on how colorful as well as excellent our food items looked, compared with the frozen lasagna they were actually offering. Esports is a million-dollar field with countless singing supporters globally and is actually quickly ending up being the most-viewed and fastest-growing sporting activity in the U.S. The objective can be elevating much heavier things, running for longer, dropping weight, losing pain, or even conducting far better in a sporting activity. Inning accordance with the association Professional athletes with Consuming Disorders, women sportsmens are at a double threat for creating an eating problem On one possession, she has the consistent public opinion to become as thin as a version in a journal or a starlet on tv; as a sportsmen, her sporting activity usually miscalculates functionality, low body system excess fat, and also markets an idyllic, unlikely body system measurements. The pros from taking part in sports abound-- coming from the conveniences they deliver to young kids, to the established url to psychological health and wellness and also joy, and also certainly the endorphins they cause. Switch on the news and you will definitely hear our nation's unofficial suggestions about diet plan delivered as recognized facts. Our experts'll acquire some images." I pointed out, Righto, no dramas." So I go property and I've placed a little dressing, tomato sauce over the leg to make it - and my sibling's gone, You idiot. Plastic surgeries generally possess excellent outcomes, enabling you to have much less discomfort and also additional leg toughness and leg security. According to a study4 by PHYSICIAN Neeru Jayanthi from Loyola Educational institution, early sport field of expertise is among the strongest predictors from trauma in kids playing sporting activities. Egg meals may certainly not ice up above along with you could want, however a quiche can last as much as 4 days in your refrigerator is actually stored adequately. I likewise seem like a pro for various media channels featuring CTV Headlines and also CityTV. Obesity is abnormal, however, prevalent due to the fact that our meals supply is actually filled along with inexpensive, flavor components. On the plus side I began participating in golf along with my brother which has actually provided me the joy from playing a sporting activity at which I truly draw! VOX POP: Therefore in front of our team exactly what you can find there certainly, all that arises from food rides or even one thing off Coles or even Safeway they have actually received good enough or even too much of. Put the maple syrup, almond remove, avocado and pistachios in a mixer or even blender or food processor, and also puree. When I finally took a seat as well as tried to determine the cause, I understood that my shoes really performed unsuitable me correctly. It was actually very difficult at first, now it only comes normally and also I can't believe that I ever before simply kicked back consuming unhealthy food and also being also careless to workout. I'm short, so the mini suit pants will finally accommodate me like frequent duration shorts as compared to people. You are going to likely take pleasure in the feeling from sympathizing yourself rather than reprimanding yourself along with meals. This video clip was actually valuable and also extremely insightful to individuals that do not possess any kind of food items.

Justin obtained his Undergraduate's Level coming from Indiana University with a Learn Sporting activity Advertising and also a small in Company coming from the Kelley Institution from Service. If you possess the moment, you can easily explore it online or even at the library, then do the food organizing, food items purchasing and preparing food for you and also possibly your loved ones also. Numerous studies have actually come out in recent times alerting regarding the risks of kids participating in sporting activities. From what I learned about natural flavorings they are really a drug use to make our company think or even make our company addicted to a food, it really has nothing to accomplish flavoring. Genuine food does not require minerals and also vitamins added to it given that this possesses its very own. Try out various basic foods items, gels as well as pubs during your training goes to view what jobs best for you. She likewise gives nutrition consulting, menu preparing, nutrient review, and also preparing food demonstrations that offers to encourage people to find their healthy and balanced balance with physical fitness and meals. Given that we couldn't all fit in the Group X space, my inadequate POPsters had to function out in the lobby. The factor is to generate an insert to cover the Cabbage with, therefore using a food processor or food processor must work. The strenuous physical exercise routine that Port is going through currently consists of components coming from sporting activities like gymnastics, endurance running, body weight hauling and also cardio job. Now, I think that I've taken on the majority of meals that pose the best evident hazards to The Man Diet regimen's results (i.e. hamburgers, pizza, cheesesteaks, burritos, etc.), however every once in a while, I'll understand a food items item or team that I've but to deal with. check it out am actually unsure how much I'll manage to hit up the health club, so I am concentrating on coming back in to clean eating and cooking as well as food items prep! And in getting to pick any sort of meals I desire, I select foods that both taste really good and also make me experience excellent, which consists of a wide array of entire" meals (a phrase I have actually pertained to object to thanks to diet society and also healthism, but it works right here nonetheless). Even when our company can't make this to the health and fitness center, we can always locate opportunity to present a doing yoga mat, nab some free weights, and fit a really good workout session. Ijust started this diet this morning I'm Thirty Three, prof entertainer, as well as went from a rather in shape fella to a married fella 4 years later on ... as well as 18 kilos bigger!