#anyway yeah i’m accepting prayers at any time lol

[frodo-with-glasses]

Acceptance

The first thing that comes to mind when I think of LotR and “acceptance” is…

…actually this old video by the youtube channel Cinema Therapy!

But far be it from me to just plop someone else’s content here and move on without any of my own effort, so let’s talk about this concept a little more.

In the video, Johnathan explains that the concept of radical acceptance is most famously encapsulated in the Serenity Prayer from Alcoholics Anonymous: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” Radical acceptance, he says, adds another level: accepting what you choose to change for the greater good.

Much like Frodo accepted the task to carry the Ring, even though it interrupted his life and continued to cost him more and more, we too are often faced with unpleasant realities and responsibilities. Radical acceptance is choosing to embrace life as life is, without sugarcoating, blame-shifting, or denial. It doesn’t mean we have to like what we’re seeing, and it doesn’t mean we have to roll over and give up all hope. It just means embracing reality—and our responsibility in it—for what it is, so that we have a place to start.

I know a little something about this. I’ve mentioned cryptically a few times that a close loved one of mine is dealing with some serious mental health issues; it’s gotten to the point that said loved one is barely recognizable for who they once were, and it’s been that way for some time. This crisis has caused some major upheaval and restructuring of responsibilities in my family. One crucial cog in the machine is down for the count, and that means someone else has to pick up the slack.

Now, faced with that situation, I have a choice in front of me. I can rail at God or my loved ones or the world in general for bringing this tragedy and inconvenience upon me. I can spend my time being angry and blaming other people—some of whom might have legitimately contributed to the current state of affairs!—and focus all my energy on plotting revenge. I can ignore the situation, focusing only on myself, and take my wings and fly and leave the nest in total disarray. (It’s fine! I’m living my best life. Why should I care about anyone else?) I could begrudgingly shoulder my responsibilities, doing the bare minimum to keep the ship afloat, but secretly harboring resentment in my heart that the “best years of my life” are being wasted at home. What a shame that a gorgeous young thing like me is stuck here, wasting her life picking up the slack for an invalid, when I could be out in the great wide world, stealing hearts, climbing ladders, making a name for myself! Oh, woe is me, my life is so hard!

Or.

I could look at the situation for what it is—study it, mourn it, come to terms with it—and then get up on my feet and choose to do what’s right.

I have no control over my circumstances, but I can choose how I respond to them. I cannot choose my lot in life, but I can choose to put forward my best attitude and greatest effort. I did not bring about this tragedy, but I can choose to do good in response to it. And with every meal cooked, every chore completed, every grocery receipt in my purse, every Grown-Ups Board Meeting in the sunroom to discuss how we can take care of the rest of the family, I make that same choice all over again.

Acceptance.

And then—action.

I think this is why Lord of the Rings has been such a comfort to me over this past year and a half; why I’ve fallen in love with Frodo in a deeper way than I did when I was a kid. I know how it feels to keep putting one foot in front of the other on a journey that, by all rights, you never should’ve had to take in the first place. I know how it feels to wake up every day and have to decide to keep going. I know how it feels to accept a burden that you never should have had to carry.

It destroyed Frodo, in the end. I don’t intend to be destroyed myself. (That’s why I’m taking such intentional steps to take care of my own mental health in this process; and praying, praying like mad, too.) But even in those moments when the road looks dark, Frodo’s story gives me hope that one day, I too will see goodness and joy coming out of my sacrifice.

Until then:

Acceptance.

And after that—action.

WORD ASK GAME!

[ashtraythief]

Hi. I’m dying. I had a dream last night where you posted the end of Underneath, which should be a good dream, right? Nope. My dream gave it the worst ending possible. Jensen cheated, of all things, with someone he knows in his real life, and someone sends pictures to Jared. In a shocking twist, Jensen comes clean about everything, the cheating but also being Jensen Ackles and Jared just forgives him. I remember being so confused in my dream that you would take the story in this direction. I didn’t think Jensen would ever cheat, but if he did, I can’t imagine Jared just forgiving him. He’d burn their house to the ground he’d be so mad. I wouldn’t want to be the man that cheats on him, that’s for sure, haha. I’m still so relieved it was a dream. I checked your a03 the second I woke up, really happy there was no chapters of Underneath posted, haha. First time that’s happened. Like lying about your identity because your an FBI officer is forgivable to me, and we support it because Jared is a mob boss after all, but cheating is just not, haha. My dream self fully believed and accepted that was the ending. But anyway, ok, I don’t say this to make you stress about the ending. Whatever it is, it’s going to be great because you wrote it. I just thought this was funny and totally bizarre, so I’m sharing lol. Have you ever had underneath related dreams?

Omg nonnie, now I'm dying 😅 I'm both flattered and horrified that you dreamed about underneath and your brain came up with that. Because you're right, Jensen would never cheat and Jared would never forgive that if he did lol. There'd be murder, definitely. (tho now I'm having dark thoughts about Jensen going home trying to find his equilibrium, getting drunk with Steve and Chris, and there's this guy he used to hook up with in college and it's just--easy and Jensen needs to feel in control, not like with Jared who takes him apart every time, where Jensen doesn't have any defenses but with this guy, Jensen doesn't feel like that and it's. yeah. A way to step back, to focus. Nevermind that after he feels hollow and even worse and he stumbles to the bathroom and throws up and he's not sure whether it's the booze or the guy he fucked, and well, after, he rinses his mouth and stares in the mirror and he just wants to turn back time only he doesn't know how far, only knows that this was. wrong. But. We're not thinking about that! Because Jensen would never.)

Anyways, hopefully, if we're lucky I'll be able to wrap up the Meet Cute prequel this month (prayer circle my beta has the time to clean up the very wonky next installment) and then maybe the Pied Piper prequel next month and I don't want to jinx it, but I have been working on a fun, porny J2 timestamp so there's hope for more fic this summer. And yeah, it's inconsequential stuff, but I swear they actively resist the End, so I have to approach it covertly lol.

Thanks for your message, nonnie ❤️

[iscariotapologist]

i know you just had an ask on this, someone pipped me to the post lol. this might seem long and rambling, but like - what is the point of prayer (as in specifically asking god for things) since the implication is only some prayers are “answered” and some are not. i don’t really believe god gives us what we pray for. so like is there any point in asking (genuinely)? do you pray ever for things, people, etc, and why (sorry if that’s too personal, please don’t feel like you have to answer). and secondly you said prayer is like talking to god … so interesting. please elaborate. how do i do that? i beg. does he talk back? i’m so intrigued. like sometimes i talk to god but it’s very much a One-Way conversation where i vent and ask for solutions … and i’m not getting much back. would love to have a positive interaction with god atp

honestly i think it depends on the request. i also think prayer is more about changing yourself than god. the lord works in mysterious ways and so on and so forth and also rather slowly, in my opinion. idk about you but i grew up with the idea that if you had enough "faith" god would basically do whatever the fuck you asked (mountains etc.) and this did a lot of damage to me since it didn't make sense and i was never able to Believe hard enough so it didn't "work." and i also heard a shit ton of magical prayer stories where (for example) poor people paid tithe instead of getting food and then magically got just enough money to pay their rent or buy groceries or whatever. i hate that shit sm my blood pressure is raised just thinking about it, anyway for the rest of us....actually i did have one of those experiences when i was like 6 and lost a hamster and prayed about it and it instantly appeared from the corner and this RUINED me for what to expect from prayer since that never happened again and it was rough to get over. anyway i find that god is not very fond of boxes....this is already long so i'll spare you more stories but i think prayers are often answered in ways we don't expect, at different times, etc. personally i am a little salty about this but what do i know. it is entertaining sometimes. also i think there's something to be said for saying what you have to say even if you don't "get the thing" i can't articulate why exactly but at least for me it's helpful. i have the audacity to believe i'm being listened to so i guess that's why. and yeah i do pray for things and people (and myself) sometimes. usually when i do it's part of the way i use my rosary and i'm falling asleep. it literally is just like talking to a friend about stuff that's bothering you, but like genuinely, not in the way evangelicals say that. it's a way i process things and also a form of meditation.

i'm perplexed by how else prayer would function except one talking to god....? i think that's fundamentally what it is. of course prayer comes in many forms, there's all kinds of specific prayers you can use (and i do use some of those) or you can talk out loud or in your head or just sit there and vibe, actions can be prayer....as simone weil said, unmixed attention is prayer. i do think god talks back, or else i have some serious unchecked issues of different kinds than the ones i'm aware of....which i have spent a lot of time considering, trust me. a lot of me talking to god is working through problems that are made obvious by the presence of god....it is immensely difficult to accept being loved like that. sometimes it's venting, sometimes i need consolation, sometimes we literally just sit in each other's presence in silence. i think god talks to everyone in different ways so there's no secret formula i can give you, but it is a two way street.

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

Hi! I came across your blog and have been reading all your answers and I feel like you’re a breath of fresh air here on tumblr! Definitely one of the few blogs I’d ever feel comfortable sharing my thoughts in even if you shared a different view point than me.

I don’t really have an ask but I did want to just get something off my chest and find this to be a safe space. Jimin is my bias and I..love him to death. It’s almost concerning to me sometimes when I realize how protective I am over him given the fact that we do not know eachother LOL. He just seems like the most genuine, soft, and kind soul. And because of that, I find myself holding my breath whenever BTS releases any content and my eyes immediately scan to see where jimin is and what he’s doing. I find myself sigh a breath of relief sometimes whenever I see him not interacting with jungkook because I know that the hate geared towards him won’t be as vicious that day. Then I have to remind myself that Jimin has every right to interact with any member he wants to which is absolutely true! And I love Jimin for always doing whatever he finds true to himself.

I think Jimin’s friendship/relationship with Jungkook gives me pause at times because of how jungkook reacts sometimes and will pull away from Jimin. At the end of the day, I’m sure if jungkook/jimin had any awkwardness in their relationship/friendship, they would iron it out because they’ve known eachother for so long. And as fans we don’t know everything. And I know jungkook shows affection to all members in different ways. Jungkook also should be allowed to act anyway he wants without people scrutinizing his every interaction which probably makes him feel awkward too.

Sometimes I wish I could wipe my brain and watch all bts content without the knowledge of how dynamics affect the hate members get lol. Selfishly, I enjoy it whenever Jimin spends time with the Hyung line especially Namjoon. Minimoni’s friendship makes my heart warm.

I’m not a shipper, I’m just jimin biased and I love ot7. And I always love to see the members no matter who, love on jimin and cherish him.

Hellooo! I get that a lot in real life lol, that I'm easy to talk to. I certainly love a different point of view as long as it's reasonable.

I watched the new spiderman movie a couple of weeks ago and, this isn't a spoiler, but there's a part where they say something like we love people because of the things that they represent in the world, too. I'm a loser so I thought of people I love in real life but I also thought about Jimin because he has always represented good things about life and humanity for me. So sometimes it's not a matter of "how are you gonna hate on Jimin?!" but more like "how are you gonna hate on such a great person?" if you know what I mean.

I don't know if I feel protective, like I don't know if that's the word I would use for what I feel, but I do feel terribly sad and disgusted. It used to make me soooo angry too, but fortunately I don't feel angry about it anymore, because angry is just an awful thing to be. I can tolerate being sad, I'm a pisces, being sad is a personality trait atp and I used to be an overexcited kid who talked a lot and read a lot and got myself too involved with people because I felt like I had to help and love everyone, but I realized I couldn't. I'm not religious but there's this thing that I like and it says:

"Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference."

It's actually called serenity prayer and it starts like "God grant me..." but I'm not religious so I just skipped that part hehe.

Yeah, of course they have the right and should be able to do whatever they want and with whoever they want. I personally think they already do as much as they want lol, at least as relationships within BTS are concerned. I think it's okay to have emotions about things as long as you don't lose sight of what's the reality and, in the end, as long as you aren't forcing yourself to feel something you're not really feeling. Like, if something stops making you feel good, then it's okay to just admit that. Everyone always talks about how BTS are humans too but so are we...

I love minimoni so much... you have no idea. Yes, exactly T_T I also feel warmth in my chest when I think about minimoni. It's just so serene.

[milktaru]

Roller skating with Jungwon

Enhypen’s Jungwon – “Why are you wearing my sweater?”/ Because it smells like you.” + “Are you blushing?”

🖋 requested by @jjunkkyu 💖

Theme: non idol au!, high school crushes, 90s au!

Warnings: none at all, it’s fluff and them some more fluff (as it should lol)

In which Jungwon tries to ignore the fact that he might have weird feelings for his best friend. 

March, 1989

 Jungwon knew you ever since he was born. Coming to think of it, he did not know a world in which you weren’t by his side.

your parents were neighbors and friends even before you were born. You enrolled in kindergarten at the same time and you spent your lunchtime together. Overall, you and Jungwon were like a single package and everyone accepted that.

Jungwon’s mom had many embarrassing photos of you two: Jungwon and you taking a bath together when you were 4 years old, a photo of you mocking Jungwon when he was 8 and accidentally shaved off half of his eyebrow with his dad’s new electric shaver. He hated to admit it but, yeah, that was indeed kind of iconic.

if his photo albums were filled with you, his afternoons weren’t different. After school ended, you would spend your afternoons in his room; jamming to “Like a Prayer” by Madonna (he hated to admit it but, yeah, that was kind of iconic too) and betting who would hit Pacman’s new record.

sometimes, if it was summer and warm enough, you two would take your bikes and ride all the way to the ice cream shop. Actually, Jungwon didn’t like ice cream that much; but you adored it  and he thought it was nice seeing your bright smile.

anyways, there wasn’t much in this world Jungwon wouldn’t do for you. Because you were his bestie and that’s what best friends do, right?

it was early in the year and you were both going through High School. It was as hellish as it gets and, to make it worse, your chemistry teacher was kind of a meanie. Knowing you were stressed, Jungwon took you to the roller disco skating place that had recently opened – he knew you were dying to try that out.

it was a pretty decent place and not as packed as you thought it would be. The first thing you two did was going to the drink’s booth. Since you and Jungwon were sugar crazy, it was almost automatic to drink some soda before doing anything else.

you were currently in the middle of a speech about how sleeping with socks on was superior, a discussion you two had almost every week since Jungwon deeply disagreed with you on that. And that’s probably why he wasn’t even paying attention to your arguments anymore; instead, he let his eyes wander, his mind following them. He observed your determined and curious eyes and your lips moving. His eyes studied your dimples, and then your jawline, your neck, collarbones, and….. wait a minute,  was that his pink sweater?

“Why are you wearing my sweater?”, He interrupted your monologue.

“Because it smells like you.”, you answered without a second thought, quickly coming back to your argument on why sleeping without socks was most certainly a psycho trait. 

Even though you didn’t think much of it, Jungwon froze at the spot hearing your words. His mind went blank, his heart clenching in weird ways he never felt before. So, you thought he smelled nice? And you were wearing his sweater?

He thought you smelled nice too…. And his pink sweater definitely looked better on you…. Probably everything would look great on you, he reasoned.

He tried to concentrate on what you were saying, observing your mouth, still ranting about socks and their importance or whatever. But why, then, suddenly, the only thing he could think was how beautiful your lips were?

“Are you blushing?”, you chuckled, seeing his cute dimples even redder highlighted by the neon lights of the rink.

“Obviously not, you dumbass” he tried to brush it off, throwing his arm around your shoulders and acting nonchalantly “and just know I'm not letting your sweater - stealer - ass near my wardrobe any time soon”.

He hated to admit it but, yeah, he would give you his whole wardrobe if it meant he could look at your lips forever. But, that’s what best friends do, right?

(well, at least that’s what he was going to keep repeting to himself)

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Today’s discovery: I do NOT have the best claim for the local title of “most likely to be accused of witchcraft”. Turns out I met a woman who has actually been accused of it! 

This woman has a her back yard end up against the side of Mom’s back yard, and turns out to have lived there for nine years, but I’d never met her before. It was just the way it worked out. There is dense scrub brush along the ditch seperating the yards, her very loud dogs ferociously barking behind her fence every time I went out, and her house is on the other street. And yet today she came out to investigate her dogs going nuts (I was looking at Mom’s daffodils) and we got talking....

For two hours!!

Yeah, really! LOL

So I ended up discovering a  heck of a lot about the disaster the town has become. She has strong views, moved her from Chicago (though born in NC), is a democrat, and though a Christian not of any of the local varieties. So of course they hate her.

Apparently she has been called a witch to her face. Folks have claimed she causes cancer by looking at them. When she goes in the Dollar General certain people leave rather than be in the building with her and turn their head away from her not to look in her eyes. She has been told repeatedly she should just move away. She has challenged certain questionable actions of the town officials so much they tried to get a police officer to agree to arrest her if she ever speaks at a meeting again....

Welcome to small town America, where we moan about the dwindling population but hate outsiders when they move in. 

You know, I guess it proves that I do have an advantage from being born here and my family being here for generations. The ignore me, but they aren’t so openly hostile.

Oh, and apparently the town board members claimed that not one person in the  town is gay and every single person is a Christian! 

WTF!!!!!! 

They should know by now I’m agnostic, and my father, who was elected mayor twice, was openly atheist! And there is at least one dude in town that’s gay because everybody knew he was back in high school. Yeah, he was related to the families so it was a “one of us so we just ignore it” situation unlike the homophobia of the area would lead you to expect, but not talking about it isn’t the same as not knowing!

Also, turns out while Trump was president they would say a prayer before each meeting for “our president”, not the country or the town or for them to make good decisions, but for the health of that dude. 

Actually, she told me a lot if things that were rather disturbing about how messed up the running of the town has become since my parents served their time is mayor. Mom was appalled when I relayed some of the things to her. “That’s not right!” And the fact that at least one of them believes there are 52 states suggests it could be they are must utterly ignorant and not just corrupt.

Funny thing about the conversation? I never asked her name! She knew who I was, and heard “all about” me and my family from everyone, so introductions never came up. You’d be surprised how often that has happened to me. It’s a bit frustrating, so many people knowing my name thinking they know “all about” me when I have no idea who the hell they are and half of that “all about” is inaccurate rumor!

Anyway, I concede the title of local falsely accused witch. Though I’ll accept the postition of runner up when the mob comes for us. Emphasis on ther runner part! LOL

[surveys-at-your-service]

Surveys #431-432

two biggins’ in one, beware the long post.

Do you own any Funko Pop! figurines? No. How many cats and dogs have you had as pets in your lifetime? I couldn't possibly count the cats. A lot. We've had I wanna say eight dogs through my entire life. Can your mom and/or dad play any instruments, or how about anyone else in your family? No. My older sister played the clarinet in school, though. Have you ever colored in an adult coloring book as a stress reliever? I have, but they don't really affect my stress level. Can you crack crab legs without a tool? UGH EW I hate crab legs. So mushy and just... ew. I don't think I've tried to without a tool. How many light sources are in the room you’re in? Excluding the natural light out my windows, three. What’s your favorite thing to put on bagels? Just your usual cream cheese. Who’s your favorite director? Tim Burton. I love his style. Bats: cute or gross? Bats are SO goddamn cute. What was the last really intense pain you felt? I had a sudden pain in my chest the other day that scared me quite a bit. Would you rather vacation by a beach or a lake? A lake, for sure. How would you feel about traveling abroad alone? I'd be way too lonely. What is your father's middle name? John. Where did your last kiss take place? The airport. Which movie villain do you find the most terrifying? Probably Jason. A masked guy just casually pursuing you with a knife is horrifying to me. If you married your favorite celebrity what would your last name be? Fischbach alskdfla;wer;lkwera;wle Do you stick your tongue out often in pictures? No. Which one of your family members are you closest to? My ma. Would you rather have name brand shoes or name brand clothes? Shoes. It's very important for them to be comfy for me. Are you a good liar? Yes. :x Are you proud of your parents? Yeah. If you could get backstage tickets to ANY concert - which would you pick? If Mom was with me, Metallica. She would actually fucking die if she met them. Like she cried and laughed with joy when she found out about the concert in Raleigh some years ago, and we thought we were going to go, but yeah, money. Which is better: orange or grape soda? Orange cream soda. Grape soda is so gross. Was the last thing you ate hot or cold? It was room temperature. Who was the last person in your house who isn’t family? Our landlord/family friend. I think. What color was the last swimsuit you wore? Black. Can you remember the last song you listened to? I'm listening to "Thoughts & Prayers" by Motionless In White right now. Have you ever been dumped really harshly? Ha, that is a colossal understatement... Can you do a back flip, or anything else of that sort? Definitely not. I couldn't even do stuff like that as a kid. Do you have any exes you can’t stand anymore? No. What happened to cause you to feel that way about them? ^ Are you more of a phone or a computer person? Computer, for sure. Do you have a job, and if so, where do you work? No. If not, do you want one? Not right now. I want to focus on the gym and getting in shape. Do any medical afflictions run in your family? A whole lot. What’s your favorite Mexican dish? Shrimp quesadillas. Or rice with cheese sauce. Have you ever been to a professional sports game? Yeah, hockey and baseball. Do you prefer pads, tampons or something else? I'm actually conflicted on this right now. I use tampons, but there are reasons I don't really like them and am considering something else. Have you ever ordered a specially made cake from a cake shop? Not me myself, but Mom has. What months were you and your siblings born in? My two immediate sisters were born in April and June. What did you have for dinner last night? Uhhhhh... I want to say I had a chicken pesto bowl? Have you ever had sex in/on a vehicle? No, that sounds so uncomfortable. Do you do anything to groom your eyebrows? No. I don't care about that anymore. Has your town ever flooded? Oh, for sure. Hurricane Floyd from when I was... I wanna say two or three WRECKED my area. Have you ever played at the McDonald’s play place? Yeah. That was a blast as a kiddo. Have you ever taken a picture of snow? Yeah. Do you cry easily? Very. Are you happy with where you live? No. The suburbs suck. I miss living in the country so much. Do people ever mistake you for being a different race? No. Do you hate the last person you kissed? No, she's my best friend in the whole world. What genre is your favorite movie? I actually don't know what it's considered? It's a kids movie, though. Who was the last person you were in a car with? My mom. Do you like the picture on your license/I.D. card? My permit picture is fucking hideous. When was the last time somebody hit on you? *shrug* Was the last person you met a male or female? A guy - my personal trainer. What brand is your underwear? I'm in my pjs, and only a madman would wear underwear to bed. What’s your favorite Thanksgiving food? Just the rolls, really, lol. I'm not a big fan of Thanksgiving foods at all. Do you have a TV in your room? No, because I don't watch TV. Are any of your electronics charging right now? My laptop always is, though I know you shouldn't do that. I need to charge my phone, too. What was the last video game you played? Video game, not computer, I want to say uh... The Legend of Spyro: Dawn of the Dragon? What’s the biggest promise someone’s ever made to you? Did they keep it? To never leave me. He didn't. Google, Bing, or Yahoo? Google. What was the last song you had on repeat? The song I mentioned earlier. Who is your favorite person to watch on YouTube? Markiplier. :') How many college degrees do you want? It'd be nice to have a Bachelor's in SOMETHING, but I'm not returning to school. Three tries was enough money down the drain. Can you wink? Yeah. Do you own any jerseys? No. Have you ever tried to snort Pixie Stix as a child, or even an adult? Uh, no. Do you like going to baby showers? Do you go only for the cake? No. The last time Jason and I hung out in any capacity was his brother's wife's baby shower, and it's a bad memory. As well, it just reminds me of what I once wanted with him. I'll go to them and be okay, but definitely not thrilled. Has there ever been a time in your life, you felt sexually undecided? Yes, especially in the I want to say 8th grade. I had an inescapable crisis that literally lasted a whole week (or maybe more) forcing myself to believe I was straight, despite already showing but denying bisexual attractions. I was religious back then, so believed if I wasn't straight, I'd go to Hell. Then I came out as bisexual in uhhhh... 2018 I wanna say, and that was a long examination of my feelings. It felt like a massive weight off my shoulders when I accepted it. I felt legit happy. Do you think tattoos and piercings are sexy on the opposite sex? ugggghhhhh yes Do people ever ask you to do things they’re too short to accomplish? No. What color are the headphones you have at this moment in time? My earbuds are pink and white. Ever choked severely on something during lunch at your school? No. Do you eat more vegetables or fruits? What’s your favorite fruit/veggie? Fruits, for sure. My fave is strawberries. What would you say is the color of your favorite bra? I have a pink and black lacy one that is super cute, but it's too small for me right now. It just stays in my drawer. Is anyone in your family a firefighter? Who is it anyway? No. What do you usually buy when you go to the dollar store? If I'm stopping there for a snack (which is usually the only time we stop by one), I tend to get a honeybun. Ever peed in the pool? Be honest! No, that is so gross. When you’re older, what kind of house do you want to live in? I want a medium-sized house that's semi-isolated in the woods. I'd love a nice path to walk down and take photos, a catio for Roman or whatever cat I may have in the future... stuff like that. I need lots of nature. Where do you want to get married? In some sort of gothic building, though I'm sure that would be a WILDLY expensive venue, so I doubt that'll happen. Realistically, either in the woods or even a massive flower garden. Do you plan on having both your parents at your wedding? Yes. What is your favorite childhood TV show? Pokemon. Honestly, do you like school? No, I didn't. Last thing that made you cry? PTSD. Honestly, are you keeping a big secret right now? No big secrets, no. Last person you took a walk with? Sara, years ago. Have you ever liked someone who didn’t like you back? Oh, have I... Who was the last person to actually pick you up in the air? Probably Jason, honestly. Does any part of your body hurt? My non-existent abs are killing me from exercising yesterday. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to change a regret what would you do? While it's tempting, hand me the cash. Can you keep a secret? Absolutely. You tell me a secret, you can guarantee I'll be keeping it between you and me. Your favorite romantic movie? The Notebook. How do you feel about Valentine’s Day? I honestly like it. I love the aesthetic of it, and I know people say "well you should celebrate love every day," and while that's right, what's so wrong about nationally designating a specific day to appreciate it? I think it's a very cute holiday. Who was the last person you took a picture with? My sister Katie. Do your jeans have rips, tears, and holes in them? I haven't worn jeans in yeeeeaaaarrrrssss. When I did though, I loved jeans like that, especially for skinny jeans. Do you celebrate 420?No. Have you ever kicked a vending machine? No. How do you eat Oreos? I prefer to just dip them in milk. If that's unavailable, I separate the two parts, eat the cream, and then the two cookies. Do you wear your shoes in the house? No. Would you survive in prison? Absofuckinglutely not. It's dark, but just to be entirely honest, I'd probably find a way to kill myself. Ever been to Georgia? I've been through it. Do you get your hair cut every month? Not every month, no. It needs a trim right now badly, though.

Current relationship in detail. I'm single and should be. If you were kicked out of your house, who would you call/go to? My dad. List things you spend money on in an average week. Nothing. Rate each of your sexual partners (if any) from 1-10. He was honestly a 10 lmao like I don't have a lot of experience at all, but yeah. Post the last FB group/page that you joined. I actually don't remember because I've been on break from Facebook for around a month. Would you parents be mad if you were in a relationship? No... Think of the last person you had sex with. Do you think they’ve slept with anyone else since they last slept with you? I'm sure he has. He dated someone right after me for like... eight months or something? Is there someone that you believe you will always be attached to? I think that's very obvious by now. What board games are you good at? Idk, I don't really enjoy board games. Is there a sport/hobby you keep thinking about taking up, but that you’ve never quite gotten around to starting? Definitely no sports, but I've been wanting to get back into video editing. I just... haven't, even though I have the software. Do you think pranks like egging/toilet-papering someone's house are funny or immature? They're incredibly immature. I see zero humor in them. Do you think “sleeve tattoos” are a good idea? They're hot as fuck, man. Is there anything in particular that your parents argue about? What? I'll just say they're divorced for good reasons. Do you ever actually read the “Terms and Services” when you sign up for websites and such? No. If you have a handheld games console (a DS or GameBoy, for example), how often do you use it? Almost never. Your phone is ringing. It’s the person you fell hardest for, what do you say? Realistically, I wouldn't answer because I don't answer numbers I don't recognize. Hypothetically, if I knew it was him, I'd probably say something along the lines of, "Hey J, are you okay?", because something must be seriously wrong if he wants to talk to me of all people. If your best friend was kicked out, would your parents let him/her live with you? Mom absolutely would. Are you afraid of falling in love? I'm terrified of it. Is there anybody you wish you could be with right now? I wish I didn't. Have you ever kissed someone & wished you didn’t? Yes: Tyler. Did you get kissed last night? Haven't been kissed in years. Do you enjoy going through a carwash? Bring out the rainbow soap and it's hype lmao. How did you get most of your scars? My cat, ha ha. He sometimes plays way too rough, and I just scar very easily. Ever had to take an inkblot test? Yes, when I went to a psychologist. Have you ever been in trouble for something you honestly didn’t do? Maybe? Have you ever seriously slapped someone in anger? My sister as a kid on her arm. Safe to say I got in trouble for it. What/who woke you up this morning? Just my body. Who was the last person to be in your bedroom besides you? Mom. What’s one of your locked text messages? da;lsd;fakwer I have one locked from Sara that says something like, "You are so beautiful." I cried. Have you ever finished a game of Monopoly? I think? Jason and I used to play the digital one you could download on the PS3. Is there anyone you know who’s in any way paralyzed? No. I mean, I know of a girl who went to my school who was paralyzed from the waist down in an accident, but I didn't/don't know her personally. She was a MASSIVE deal in my education community. Like you would see "prayers for (name)" on school and church signs. The truth all comes out when someone is drunk, true? Usually true. I sometimes think back on the one time Jason was drunk, and he just told me in the most adoring voice, "I love you, Brittany." It's painful as fuck to remember. I really do wonder if he meant it, given this was in the later half of our relationship. When was the last time you felt disappointed in yourself? Constantly. How about feeling disappointed in someone else? I dunno. For you, do you commonly feel more jealousy or envy? I definitely experience envy more often. Do you rely on the heads/tails flipping of a coin sometimes for decisions? No. Do you have any specific chores you do around the house? I'm supposed to empty the dishwasher in particular. For you, does comfort or fashion come first in dressing? Comfort, 100%. Have you had two friends that absolutely hated each other? No. Do you like Laffy Taffy? I do. That sounds pretty good right about now. Do you prefer electric or manual pencil sharpeners? Electric. Are your biceps at all noticeable? Yeah, no. Have you ever seen a walrus? Yeah, at SeaWorld as a kid. Did you ever have one of those Easy Bake ovens as a kid? Yeah. My little sister in particular was obsessed. Does your bathroom have a theme to it? No. From inside of your house, how many doors lead outside? Two. Are there a lot of trees in your yard? No. :/ I miss that. Have you ever liked someone that treated you like crap? No. Have a best friend? Yeah. :') Does it bother you when your best friend does stuff without you? That is so childish. Everyone needs space sometimes. But to answer the question, considering she lives many states away from me, obviously not. Is there a secret you’ve never told your parents? Yes. Does anyone hate you? I wouldn't at all be surprised if Jason does. Colleen might, but I really don't give a shit if she does. What’s the one thing you regret more than anything? The way I spoke to Jason after the breakup. If only I could take those letters back. Do you remember important dates? I am VERY bad at dates, doesn't matter how important they are. What’s some lyrics from a song that means a lot to you? "For such a little thing, you sure are in your own way" from a Mother Mother song. Who gives the best advice? Sara. Who do you usually see in your dreams? :) Jason is nearly a permanent fixture. Jeez, I'm bringing him up a lot in this one. I'm surprised my PTSD isn't dragging me into a pit for it. What type of cake did you last eat? Uhhh I wanna say double chocolate? Mom got two slices from the store for me and herself a long time ago. How many of your friends are gay or bisexual? A large number. I don't feel like counting. What’s your favorite type of sandwich? Just your usual peanut butter and jelly. When was the last time someone asked you out? Did you accept or decline? Years ago by Girt. I accepted. Do you like The Offspring? Sure, I like a handful of their songs. One pillow or two? I sleep with two. Do you like Mad Libs? Sure, they can be funny. Are you suicidal? Well damn, just throw that in there. Anyway, no. I'll admit I've had very brief, passive thoughts very rarely as of the late, just wondering if there really is a point to me being here, but I'm not actively suicidal at all rn. Where do your grandparents live? They're dead. When alive though, they lived in Florida and Michigan. Do you cut yourself? And this one? No, I haven't in many years. What is your pet’s name? Roman and Venus. Have you ever been to Canada? No, but I'd love to visit. Aren’t babies overrated? "Overrated" is definitely the wrong word... I don't particularly find a lot of babies cute and I don't want my own, but they're not overrated. Have a built-in pool in your backyard? Never have. Ever won yourself a stuffed animal? Yeah. Ever had someone else win you a stuffed animal? Yes. Ever been to a circus? No. I wouldn't set foot into one. Ever shot animals? I never, ever could. Do you consider yourself intelligent? I USED to. I think I'm dumb as shit now. School knowledge did not latch onto me well, I guess. Have you ever run away from home? Yes. It was so overdramatic. I came back hours later because I had my phone and Mom texted me threatening to call the cops. Do you put family first, friends, relationships, school, or something else? I will never put my mental health behind anything/one again. What’s something you’ve stood up for in the past? When Colleen and I were friends in middle school, we both spoke before the class in absolute disgust at how our classmates were treating our poor substitute teacher. Colleen had AT them, while I was more tame about it but still wanted to bash into their heads that they were all being absolute trash to the poor man. What’s something you worked extremely hard to get? My mental wellbeing. Granted, I'm not exactly "well" now, but once upon a time I was living in the deepest ocean trench as far as depression goes. Are you satisfied with your body image? Hell no. I really, really, really hope loyally going to the gym will help me with that. Have you ever been labeled negatively or otherwise been called something extremely derogatory? Not that I know of. Have you ever seriously taken advantage of someone or been taken advantage of? No. Have you ever been seriously ill? Mentally, immensely. Physically, not really. I've had some nasty stomach bugs, but nothing truly severe. Have you ever befriended a former enemy? Ha, it's funny, I used to hate Jason's first ex/heartbreak for how badly she hurt him. Like she could've been falling off the face of the earth with only me to save her, and I'd let her keep falling. I hated her. Yet now we're Facebook friends and comment on each other's stuff like it's nothing, ha ha. She reached out to me a few years ago to apologize for high school stuff (she also hated me for Juan - her ex or something along those lines - being interested in me instead of her), we chatted a bit, and now I think she's great. If you’re not religious, would you ever pray as a last resort? If you are religious, do you often pray for other people? I don't pray anymore. That's all I'll say to keep this from becoming potentially very offensive. Have you ever dated someone, then after you dated they came out of the closet or switched (for lack of a better word) sexual orientation? I'm pretty sure my middle school boyfriend Aaron is gay, but I'm not certain. He vanished from Facebook a long time ago. Has a boy/girl ever walked a ridiculous distance just to see you? How about vice versa? I tried doing that the night of the breakup. By car, I know it was a seven-minute drive, but walking there, never mind at night, was ludicrous. I only didn't manage because after a few minutes, Mom came after me and kept cutting me off with the car. When was the last time you felt really uncomfortable? Right now. My abs REALLY hurt, and I'm also cramping like a motherfucker after not having a period for 3+ months because of TMS therapy. I'm still pissed about how it had a physical effect on me, but didn't mentally do what it was meant to. Is there anything that your mom is really known for as to how she is as a person? She is very, very loving and lives to help others. Who have you been talking to the most today? Nobody, really. I've spoken with Mom obviously, but for the most part, today's been quiet. Are you nosy? I can be pretty damn nosy, yes. What’s the meanest thing you have done to a friend? Consistently flirted with her boyfriend behind her back. I was 12, okay? If your ex called you crying, what would it most likely be about? THE ex, I have no idea. I don't know what's going on in his life, besides his mother dying quite a few months ago, but I don't see why he'd contact me about that. Who was the best kisser out of all the people you have kissed? Jason. Have you ever been told that you have an annoying laugh? No, but I think I do.

[beshert-bh]

My journey to/with Judaism

***This is a super long post, it’s the FULL story, not a brief overview, but it would mean the WORLD to me if you read it***

Upbringing: very much Not Jewish™️

I was born into a Catholic family. I have a goyish last name. I was baptized as an infant, and my parents took me to church each week as a kid.

In kindergarten — back when I still went to a secular private school — one of my best friends was Jewish. He told me all about the traditions his family did...told me all about the kippahs they wear, and how they had their own game called dreidel for this holiday they celebrated, called Hanukkah. (Of course this convo was at a basic-kindergarten-level of knowledge.) When I came home from school I was fascinated with Hanukkah, (this is cringey to admit but my 5-year-old self tried to integrate the traditions together and so in order to do this I drew up a “Christmas dreidel” complete with Santa Claus’ face on one side, a present on another side...you get it)

And that is when I was promptly put in “parochial” schools. I went to Catholic school from 1st grade to 12th grade. I went through Holy Communion and Confirmation like all the other kids did. My elementary soccer team’s mascot was an Angel. My high school’s mascot was a Crusader. Our high school was located on Rome Avenue. I went to a Catholic youth conference. I considered becoming a nun because I was single all throughout high school.

Growing up, around Christmastime we would always travel to visit my grandma, and she would always say we’re “German Jewish” — but I would write her off. In my mind, I was like, Yeah ok like 1%? .....It felt like my grandma was acting like one of those white people who takes a DNA test and says, “Look! We’re 1% African!” So I would dismiss her and remind her how we’re Catholics and she would drop the subject.

Falling away from Xtianity: my first 2 years of college

My freshman year I changed — politically — as I was only conservative in high school because of the ‘pro-life’ agenda being shoved down my throat. I really aligned more with liberal and leftist policies and views, though. Once I became open to new political ideology, I began to question my theological beliefs.

I always had a strong connection to God. My whole life. But I struggled with connecting to Jesus, Mary, the saints, and so on. So obviously my freshman year of college I began to fall away from Catholicism.

You see, Catholics are “bad at the Bible” as I like to say. Other Christians do a better job of teaching and analyzing the writings. They actually require school-aged children to memorize Scripture passages. Catholics mostly just teach the same stuff over and over. Jesus, Mary, Joseph, blah blah blah. Catechism, liturgical calendar, blah blah blah. Parts of the mass, fruits of the spirit, blah blah blah.

So since I was already doubting Catholicism, its corrupt leadership, and its mindless traditions.... I thought maaaaybeeee I would find purpose, truth, clarity, etc. in plain-old Christianity. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.

The other Christian churches I went to baptized people (which is a BIG LIFE DECISION) on the spot. For example if a newcomer felt on a whim that they wanted to be baptized, the church would do it right then & there. No learning, no planning or preparing, that was it. They promoted blind faith and circular thinking. I began to realize these were both normal attitudes and cognitive patterns within any and every Christian community that I encountered.

Even the Christians who exhibited curiosity mostly just asked questions in order to be able to understand, and then accept, the doctrine as truth. Questions never ever challenged anything.

Oh and let’s throw in the fact that I’m bisexual. Homophobia, transphobia, biphobia (and more) are rampant in the church. So needless to say, with all my observations about the lack of logical thinking in the church (and considering my sexual orientation) I fell away. I stopped going to church unless my family made me when I was home from college.

Enter stage right: Judaism

In retrospect I happened to have a lot of friends in my sorority and my favorite fraternity on campus who were Jewish (the frat happened to be a traditionally-Jewish one). Thought nothing of it at the time. Fast forward to junior year when I met this cute guy on Tinder. He’s now my boyfriend and we’ve been dating for over a year. He didn’t tell me this on Tinder, but when we went on our first date, he revealed that he’s Jewish and wanted to make sure that’s something I was ok with. Clearly I had no problem with that. I wasn’t too into Christianity anymore but I still identified as one (and I was still surrounded by Christian friends in my sorority) so I told him I was Christian/raised Catholic and asked hypothetically if he would be comfortable with a “both” family. He said yes.

We started dating during an October, so of course Hanukkah came up soon. There was a mega challah bake at our local Chabad, which he took me to, and we had a blast. From then on I decided I wanted to show him how supportive I was of his Jewishness. (The last girl he dated dumped him after 3 months BECAUSE he was Jewish... so I felt that I needed to be supportive)

We started going to shabbat services and dinner every week. We did Hanukkah together (we bought our first menorah together, he taught me how to spin a dreidel, his mom bought me Hanukkah socks...lol). At some point in our relationship I told him I may have Jewish ancestry from my grandma but it’s distant and my whole extended family is Christian so it really wouldn’t even matter. I don’t remember when I had that conversation with him.

Eventually, after another few months of Shabbat services and Shabbat dinners, Pesach came around.

We went to the first seder together. The second seder is what changed everything.

Deciding to convert

At first I wasn’t sure if I belonged at this second seder. My boyfriend had always brought me to every event. I had never attended anything alone at Chabad before. But I went anyway. Throughout the night I felt increasingly comfortable. I had never felt more like I was a *part of something* than I did at this seder.

I sat near a friend who I recognized. (He knows I’m raised Catholic.) Then he & his friends welcomed me. We all took turns reading from the Haggadah, we drank the four cups of wine together, and we laughed together as I had maror for the first time.

Then the familiar faces left to go home, and one of them even went to another table to sit with his other friends whom he hadn’t had a chance to see yet that night. Naturally I thought I was alone again. I almost left, but something tugged at my heart to stay until the very end of the second seder. Something told me to keep going and keep taking in this wonderful experience.

The rest of the night consisted of many songs (most likely prayers, in retrospect) I did not know. Everyone stood to sing and we all clapped to the rhythm. I knew none of the words but I still clapped along, alone at my own table. Then one of the boys — the one who had been sitting with my friends and I earlier — motioned at me to come over and join his other friends. I approached this new table full of people I’d never met, feeling awkward as ever, and they not only hoisted me up to stand on the table with them as they chanted, but they also included me in their dance circle. (no, I don’t think it was the Hora, we just spun around over and over. lol.)

This was the first night I felt at home with Judaism. Going through the Jewish history with the Haggadah, remembering the important occurrences and symbolizing them with various foods, ending the night by being welcomed into the community... it was transformative. After attending shabbat services for months and learning about Jewish values, it changed something in me when I observed Pesach for the first time last year. I knew this path would be right for me. I felt as if my soul had found where it belonged. The Jewish history, traditions, beliefs, and customs resonated with me. It all just... made sense.

I told my boyfriend I wanted to convert. I wrote three pages of reasons. But I sat on the idea of converting and did nothing for a while. I did do some more research on Judaism, though, as I continued to attend services each week.

The exploration stage

I began to actually research on my own time. If converting was something I was genuinely considering, it was high time I began actively learning as much as I could possibly learn. It was time to dive deeper than just attending the weekly services and googling the proper greetings for Jewish holidays.

I started digging deeper into Judaism and Christianity so I could compare and contrast the two. I needed to understand the similarities and differences. And BOY are they different. That was surprising at first, but the more I learned about Judaism, the more I loved how different it was from the Christianity I was indoctrinated into.

Not only are the values and teachings of each religion vastly different, but the Tanakh (which is “The Old Testsment” in Christian Bibles) actually contradicts:

The entire “New Testament”

The gospel books specifically

The Pauline letters specifically

How did I realize this? Some bible study of my own, but mostly through online research. And, of course, I would have gotten nowhere without the help of Rabbi Tovia Singer and his YouTube videos. He debunks everything there is to debunk about Christianity.

Here were some things I came across when researching:

It confused me how the four Gospels didn’t align (like, major parts of the story did not align at all...and supposedly they’re divinely inspired...but they don’t even corroborate one another?)

It confused me how the psalms we sang in church were worded completely different from the true wording in the Bible (essentially the Christian church is taking tehillim and altering it to benefit Christian dogma and Christian rhetoric.)

It confused me how we read in the Bible that Jews are ‘God’s chosen people’ and yet in every Catholic Church, every Sunday, there is a Pauline letter being read which depicts proselytization of Jews, as if Jews are lost and need Christians to save them. As if Jews would go to hell if they fail to accept Jesus.

It confused me why we would pray to Mary and the saints, because praying is worship, and worshipping anyone but God themself is idolatry.

It confused me why Christians make, sell, and use graven images. Idolatry. Again.

It confused me why Christians give absolute power to humans. For example, if you crawl up the same steps (Scala Santa) that Jesus supposedly crawled up before he died, you automatically get “saved” because *some old men who have no divine power* said so (they have a term for this and it’s called “plenary indulgence” lol).

It confused me why Jesus was believed to be the messiah considering he had to have biologically been from the line of Joseph. Wasn’t Jesus supposedly conceived without any help from Joseph? Wouldn’t that render Jesus, uh, not messiah by default? Even if he was from Joseph’s blood, he still did not complete all the tasks moshiach is supposed to fulfill. And even if he DID fulfill all the tasks required of moshiach... we still would not worship a messiah as he is human and not GOD.

These were all new thoughts I developed this past year between Pesach and Yom Kippur. New questions that challenged everything I thought I knew. It was like teaching a child 2+2≠22 but rather 2+2=4.

Hillel

This fall, after the High Holy Days, my boyfriend began attending shabbat dinners at a rabbi’s home. His new rav lives in the community and it’s exclusive to be invited, so I never imposed. We do Shabbos separately now (with some exceptions, we do it together sometimes).

I continued to go to Chabad with one of my friends who knew I wanted to convert. But one month, she couldn’t come at all, and I felt a little judged there anyway.

So I began going to Hillel a few months ago. And I honestly have found a home there.

From Hillel’s Springboard Fellow reaching out to me and taking me out for coffee to get to know me... to running into my sorority & fraternity friends at every Hillel event (shabbat or otherwise)... From getting included in various clubs like the women empowerment group and the mental health inclusivity group... to being the only college student to participate in Mitzvah Day (hosted by Hillel) with the elderly and the local Girl Scout troop... I feel truly welcome. I’ve started to attend every week. I even talked briefly with the rabbi about having Jewish lineage and wanting to convert.

Discovering new information

I went home to be with family during Thanksgiving break. My grandma flew in so she was there when I got home. She stayed with us from then until New Years (and she’s actually moving in with us next year.)

Of course, now I have a Jewish boyfriend, Jewish friends, and I’ve done extensive research on Judaism. So this time I had background knowledge when she inevitably said... “You know, we’re German Jewish!”

I inquired a little. I asked her what she meant. How is she Jewish? I know my uncle took a DNA test this year and came back part Ashkenazi. But I needed a deeper explanation than DNA.

She revealed to me that her mom’s mom was Jewish. We believe she married a Christian man. Together they had my great-grandmother, who I believe was Christian. She had my grandma, who had my dad, who had me.

And I immediately felt like that changed things. At first I was (internally) like, Now I definitely need to convert! But then I was like, Wait, does this make me Jewish? Am I Jewish-ish? ...Can you be considered Jewish if you’re only ethnically Jewish but not raised Jewishly? ...Can you be Jewish if your dad is your only Jewish parent? ...Can you be Jewish if your dad never had a bris or a bar mitzvah?

I joined a bunch of Jewbook groups, began learning the Hebrew calendar & holiday schedule, and found some folks who assist with Jewish genealogy. They did some digging for me and apparently I descend from the Rothschild family. THE Rothschild family.

Who is a Jew? Who “counts”?

This is something I’ve been muddling over.

At Hillel, at my school at least, most people are pretty Reform. They’re very liberal with their definitions of Judaism (they believe in patrilineal descent and not only matrilineal descent).

They accept me and see me as actually Jewish ...and the ones who don’t... they at least see me as Jewish-adjacent, an “honorary Jew” or an “ally to the Jewish people”.

My boyfriend, however, still sees me as Not Jewish.™️ (For context he’s Reform but he’s trying to become as observant as possible) I know he only thinks this was because of how we began our relationship and because of how I was raised. But I’m very confused here.

Do I count?

Do I not?

Do I count *enough* but still need to go through a formal conversion process?

So...now what?

I don’t know how to navigate this odd journey but I have felt for a while that I have a Jewish neshama and I feel a strong need to affirm it. I just don’t know how or what is appropriate. Do I learn Hebrew? Sign up for a trip to Israel/Germany/Poland? Put up a mezuzah? Or go toward the other end of the scale, and head down a path of a formal conversion/reaffirmation process?

Thank you in advance for your responses and thanks for reading. 🤎

[ikenbar]

Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice Ch3 Prologue & Pt 1

Author’s note (wait don’t go it’s important lol):

Alright!! Time for Chapter three!! I’ve already gone into what this story is and what to expect in chapter one part one so I won’t explain anything here, but this chapter will be introducing a new side to Ikamara. Also sassy Victor, soft Lucien, and angsty bois!! Also I will be taking lines directly from the game in this chapter. Don’t worry, I will be sure to add credit and the source when I do so they get their rightful credit :D I will be posting Wednesdays/Thursdays so stay tuned!! This chapter has themes that are meant for more teenage audiences so be wary with your young eyes. Nothing too bad but there are some adult themes and suggestive scenes so keep an open mind and prepare for a good story :D

(p.s. I’m mashing the prologue and the part one together because I feel like it :P)

Warnings: Nothing. Honest to goodness soft times with family and adorable cheesy mishaps. The best kind when dealing with a corny intro to a new chapter :3... ah Oh but there is a cliffhanger to throw off the soft mood~

(Chapter One (intro to characters) parts one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven here :))

(Chapter Two (Gavin) prologue and parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and eleven here :D)

(Ikamara One Shots: St. Richards, Mp3, more coming soon :D)

 Chapter Three:

Prologue:

Dinner had been like all the others before it. With a small prayer from Maria, the kids talk about their day, then Bart would try to get the newest little addition to the family to talk. Their efforts had been fruitless thus far from the past month that she had spent at their foster home, but Bart and Maria thought they were getting through to her. “So, Ikie!" Bart began cheerily, “Ikemilike. Ikeamelon… Ike, how was your day? Do anything worthwhile?” Ike stayed silent, picking at the stake left on her plate. After some awkward silence, Sam stood on his chair.

“Yeah she did!” Sam said happily, “She totally schooled some bullies for me! Isn’t that right, Ike?” 

Still nothing.

“All she did was look at them and they ran off like scared little school girls! It was hilarious!”

“That sounds pretty fun!” Bart chuckled and looked over to Ike, “It sounded like you really had Sam’s back, back there!" Ike took a cup up to her lips and avoided eye contact with Bart.

“Of course she did!"” Sam chimed, “We are connected by a brother and sister bond! I can tell you exactly what she is thinking right now!” Ike halted her movements.

“Oh?” Bart laughed, “Well then go ahead! Tell me, what is she thinking right now?” Sam puffed his cheeks and stared intently at Ike from across the table. Ike placed down her cup and stared back, unphased. Silence washed over the room as Sam and Ike held their eye contact. Bart watched the girl intently. He wanted to have a go at reading her as well. Ike’s eyes portrayed a strong emotion that was indistinguishable to Bart. She looked like she wanted to say something, to scream it to the world. What did she want to say? And why wouldn’t she just say it?

“Got it!” Sam broke the silence harshly, causing everyone, except Ike, to jump, “She is thinking that she loves and cares about each of us! And when she is ready, she will be sure to tell us herself!” Ike’s usual poker face broke. Her mouth fell open and her eyes grew wide. Sam got it right. 

Sam proudly smiled at Ike, “I got it right, didn’t I?? I told you we are connected!” Ike stared at him for a little longer with the same awestruck look from before. Bart opened his mouth too. He wanted to say something. To encourage her to speak and tell them what she was thinking. To trust that they will do anything to make her happy, but he didn't get the chance to. All at once, Ike regained her original poker face and stood from her seat. She bowed then took her plate up.

“You’re done already?” Bart asked, quickly standing with Ike, “You haven’t finished your food yet!” Ike turned without acknowledging his words and left the room.

“Are you going to the gym?” Maria called back to Ike, after her as she walked to the front door, “Would you like a ride?” Bart got up and followed his wife. Ike shook her head and grabbed the gym bag she always kept by the door.

“Oh so you’re walking again.” Maria wrung her hands nervously, “Well, be careful, Ike. Text me when you have gotten to the gym, Ok?” Ike nodded and slung the bag over her arm. She moved to open the door.

“Wait!” Sam sped out of the dining room and to Ike. She halted her movements and turned to face Sam as he stopped in front of her, panting slightly. He smiled and held out his hands, “I have something for you!” Bart and Maria craned their necks to look at the contents in Sam’s hands. Right in the middle of his palms was an old, small mp3 player with earbuds wrapped neatly next to it. 

“It’s my old mp3 player!” Sam’s voice was so sweet that he could cause cavities, “I have all of my music on my phone now so I figure you can have it! Look,” Sam flipped the player over, “There is a clip-on it’s back so you can use it while working out! I put all the songs you like on there! Plus some songs I think you might enjoy!” Ike stared at Sam’s hands. She held that same look that she had in her eye from dinner but she showed no sign of taking the mp3 player. “I-I read somewhere that working out with music makes the exercise easier.” Sam hesitated slightly. “I know how you gave your mp3 player to Ashton so I’m giving you mine! I wanted to make sure you enjoy every second you spend at the gym… and,” Sam lowered his head slightly, “I… I want you to be happy. I can understand if you wanted to be happy away from us, but I want you to remind you that you can be happy with us as well! So, I hope this mp3 player will remind you of your new family! And how much we care about you!” Sam extended his hands a little further, “If you’ll let us… if you’ll let me, I’d love to show you how much I care! Then maybe, just maybe, you can tell me yourself!”

Ike's eyes were trained on the player but they weren’t focused on them. She seemed to be thinking about something else entirely. Sam noticed this and, looking defeated, he started lowering his hands. Swiftly, Ike’s hand darted out from her side and grabbed the player from Sam. He looked taken aback but soon recovered and he smiled widely as Ike took the earbuds and unwrapped them, draping them around her neck. She looked up, eyeing Sam. Sam opened his mouth to say something but an unfamiliar voice interrupted him.

“Thank you.”

Part One:

My eyes flew open. The alarm on my phone buzzed obsessively but I didn’t turn it off. I didn’t remember falling asleep that night. Nor did I remember doing it at my desk over the paperwork I had out for my meeting with Victor later that day. What was strange to me though was that dream. The woman in front of me. Something about her seemed familiar. Something at the back of my head ached to reveal why but, for some reason, kept itself in the dark. Why? What was so special about her? I finally slid my hand over my phone, pressing the button to silence it. She can’t have been someone from my past. Everyone from my past made me feel weak. That woman’s silhouette… I felt strong. I felt like I needed to be. For her. Who was she?! 

In a white room, one person stood in front of me. Facing away from me. A small woman with shoulder length brown hair, a striped blue dress, and a petite body. I had no memory of her but, somehow, I felt drawn to her. Felt strongly towards her. Protective of her. The woman slowly turned around…

A small ping came from my phone, snapping me to my senses.

>>>

The bottom of the old dresser drawer dung uncomfortably into my fingers as Bart and I carried it up the stairs. Bart had texted me and asked if I could help him move some new furniture into the vacant bedroom in their house. I had already been awake from spending that whole night preparing for Victor’s meeting that day so I accepted. When I had come over they had greeted me with the news that Maria had gotten a call from the foster care center and was asked if she could take in another kid. She gladly accepted and had splurged on items to fill the room with to make it homey. She refused to tell us anything about the new kid but, from the items she chose to decorate the room, it was going to be another girl.

“Why did we need to get a new dresser?” Bart grunted as he adjusted his grip, “We still have Evie’s old dresser upstairs.”

“This new kid doesn’t deserve any hand me downs!” Maria stood at the top of the stairs and looked down at us with worry and excitement in her eyes, “They deserve to be greeted and welcomed home with things just as new as they are! Besides, Evie’s old dresser is in the guest room. And I am not going to try to move that one again.”

“Bart, you can give me more weight,” I reassured as he struggled to lift the dresser, “I can take it.”

“Nope!” He huffed through his cheerful smile, “You were asked to help, not to hold the team.”

“It’s nothing. I normally take this time to exercise anyway. I could use a challenge.”

“No need to show me up in front of my wife, Ikamara.”

I rolled my eyes as Bart continued to struggle. The dresser weighed nothing to me thanks to my Evol, but waiting for Bart to take the next step on the stairs caused the weight of the dressers to ding into my skin uncomfortably. It was then that I was once again thankful for the nerve damage in my left arm. “So, Maria.” I casually made conversation as Bart murmured to himself angrily, “Tell me more about this kid. How old are they?”

“It’s a surprise!” Maria giggled and bounced in place slightly.

“Really? Are we still on that?” I rolled my eyes, “Can’t we just skip the stage of playful teasing and to the point where you break and tell me everything anyway?”

“No way! I’m going to hold off on this one!” Maria had played this game far too often. Luckily for me, I knew just the right buttons to press to get her to talk.

“Whatever, I’m just excited for another girl.” I said this casually. Casually enough to send Maria spiraling.

“AH! ME TOO! I FINALLY HAVE A GIRL IN THIS HOUSE WHO IS OLD ENOUGH TO-” Maria caught the sight of my arched eyebrow and the smirk rising the corner of my lips, “... That was a cheap shot.”

“It was inevitable.” I redirected my attention to Bart, who was trying to find a different grip on the dresser. I sighed and repositioned my hands on the dresser so that I could support more of the weight. I raised the dresser slightly. 

“Hah!” Bart exclaimed, finally finding a good spot to hold on the dresser, “I’ve got it now! Ok, Evie, start making your way up the stairs.”

“Finally.” I sighed, moving slowly up the stairs, “Ok, Maria, You can continue telling me about your new daughter.”

“Ok!” Maria clapped her hands and leaned on the railing as she giggled like a teenager talking about their new crush, “Her name is Adrienne. She is seventeen, really loves to listen to music, is super good in school and is exceptional with kids-”

“But...” I egged.

“But?”

“You only use such over the top adjectives when there is a ‘but’ coming. What’s wrong with her?”

Maria scoffed but, after catching my eye, she sighed, “... She is a flight risk. And I was warned she likes to talk back and rebel a lot. She hates being a foster child and often runs away to try to get back to her parents, who have been called out to a business trip for a few years in The States. So Evie, I know I’ve asked a lot of you lately, but,” I had finally hit the top stair and placed the dresser on the ground when Maria rested a hand on my shoulder, making me face her, “I need you to come over tomorrow for dinner. She’ll have moved in by that evening. I want you to show her this place isn’t as bad as she may think. I want her to stay here until her parents come back. I know you know how it feels to stay here for a long time so… maybe-”

“I’ll be there.” I interrupted Maria. Her eyes brimmed with excitement and her smile widened. She jumped into my stomach, pulling me into a tight hug. 

“Thank you!” She bounced slightly, nudging her head under my chin.

“Yeah, yeah.” I patted her awkwardly on the back, “First we’ve got to move her in. Bart,” I looked over to Bart, who had sprawled himself out on the floor, “You ready?”

“Gimme… a… second.” Bart panted, raising a limp finger. He took a deep breath and slowly raised himself off of the floor. He cursed under his breath as he stretched his back.

“Swear jar.” Ashton pushed Bart out of the way as he came from the bathroom behind him.

“Jeez, dad. You’ve seen better days.” Sam teased as he followed Ashton out of the bathroom and prodded Bart’s side.

“Don’t make me ground you, mister.” Bart teased back, glaring playfully at the boy beside him.

“You’d have to find it first.” Sam laughed and rolled his eyes. They fell on me and his snarky expression changed to a happy one, “Ike! When did you get here??” I checked my watch as Sam made his way over to me. 

“A little over an hour ago.” I accepted Sam’s hug with a couple of pats, “And we have only moved one piece of furniture.”

“It was the heaviest one!” Bart pouted, “You don’t have to be so rude about it!”

I rolled my eyes, “I’ll have to leave soon to head to work”

“Oh yeah!” Bart’s tone changed dramatically as he smiled proudly at me, “Don’t you have that meeting with Victor today?”

“Don’t remind me.” I rubbed the tiredness from my eyes, “I've also got that new assistant that I need to train.”

“Oh yeah! What did you say his name was?” Bart tapped his chin in thought, “Michael?”

“Minor.” I corrected Bart as I nudged Sam off of me. He complied and I repositioned myself in front of the dresser, “Let’s get this done so I can get going. Ready?” Bart grumbled but positioned himself across from the dresser as well, “One… two…”

“Isn’t your date with Lucien today as well?” Sam sweetly asked from next to me.

I froze. After the events of the past week with Gavin and the warehouse, I had completely forgotten about my da-... meeting with Lucien. Whether that was because I was distracted or because I was suppressing the thought, I didn’t know. What I did know was that it was that night.

... And I had completely forgotten to tell Maria.

“DATE?!” Maria nearly exploded. I shook my head and focused on the dresser again

“Three.” I moved to lift it but Bart stood from his spot on the dresser.

“You got a date with Lucien?!” Bart smiled widely at me.

“I guess we are talking about this now,” I sighed, letting go of the dresser and standing as I spoke, “It’s not a date. It’s a meeting to talk about the psychology of our show. He is only there to give me tips.”

“Oh really?” Maria teased, “When will this meeting be?”

“After my meeting with Victor.”

“So after the hours you are working?” Bart chimed in, giving his wife a knowing look.

“That was the only time he was available.”

“Is he going to be the one picking you up?” Now Sam was asking questions.

“I don’t know!” My voice became an octave higher than normal, “When did this become a game of twenty questions?! I-” A small ping came from my pocket. I grumbled as I pulled out my phone. Someone had sent me a message. My heart skipped I read the recipient’s name. That man had impeccable timing.

“Speak of the devil!” Maria had peered over my shoulder and read the notification on my screen. Bart and Sam soon found their way next to me to look at the screen as well.

“Well?!” Sam cheered, craning his neck slightly, “Open it!” I hesitated for a moment, then opened the message.

I am looking forward to our date tonight.

“Ha!” Everyone around me exclaimed haughtily. Maria, Bart, and Sam exchanged high fives. I sighed and rubbed my temples. These people were going to be the death of me. Another text from Lucien appeared on screen.

I have a wonderful place in mind for dinner. Do you have any allergies?

I quickly texted back.

I don’t remember agreeing that this would be a date.

I didn’t wait long for a response.

I’m sorry but I assumed that was what you intended.

“What are you doing?!” Maria pulled the phone from my hand and read the last texts, “You’re going to blow it!”

“Maybe that’s my intention.” I reached to take back the phone but Maria pulled it away from my reach.

“Ike, this is your first date! Are you sure you want to call it off?!” begged Maria.

“I didn’t even know it was a date! Give me my phone!” I moved to take it again but Sam pushed on my stomach. I looked down annoyed at him but my face melted when our eyes met. His eyes were big and his bottom lip was puffed out.

“He said he was looking forward to it.” Sam’s voice was higher pitched and whiny. As much as I hated to admit it, Sam's puppy eyes always got to me.

“Oh don’t give me that.” I whined rubbing my eyes to avoid meeting Sam’s, “I’m not ready to date anyone! Let alone someone like Lucien!”

“When will you ever be ready?” Sam’s question made me stop my movements. I finally met his gaze. He hadn’t dropped his puppy dog eyes. “Come on, Evie,” Sam continued to beg, “Give him a chance? For me?” Words jumbled themselves inside of my head as I tried looking for an excuse to say no… Ugh, how could he be so good at those eyes? A small ping came from my phone.

“He sent another message!” Maria gasped. I held back the urge to tackle her as I held out my hand. Maria looked hesitant, but after one raise of my eyebrow, she sighed and placed the phone in my palm. I looked at the message.

Would you prefer it to be purely professional?

My thumb hung over the keyboard, my stomach turning with anxiety. I should have known that was his intention… Still, this would be my first date with anyone. Ever. Was I willing to have Lucien become someone that I dated? Do I really feel comfortable with dating in general? 

I looked back down at Sam. His puppy dog eyes were gone. He looked at me with genuine determination and hope. I sighed and looked back at my phone. I quickly typed a reply before I could talk myself out of it.

 No. Where are we meeting?

Sam pulled down my arm to look at the screen. His expression changed as a huge smile rose across his cheeks. He cheered and replaced his arms around my stomach.

“Yeah, yeah.” I mumbled, patting his back, “But that is the last time I am letting those stupid eyes get to me.” Maria and Bart had found their way behind me and had read the text as well.

“This will be good for you, Evie.” Bart assured me, patting me on the back, “It’ll get you out of your head and into the world for a change.”

“Not to mention Lucien is a really good guy.” Maria beamed as I tucked my phone in my pocket, “He’ll be a good first date!”

“Right.” I disregarded their words and checked my watch,

“Not to mention good looking-”

“I need to go. Maria, could you help Bart with the rest of the furniture or do you need me?”

“No,” Maria shook her head and rolled up her sleeves, “We’ve got it from here. Have a great day, sweetie! Don't forget to come by tomorrow for dinner!” I nodded and started heading down the stairs. Bart and Maria assumed their positions by the dresser and Sam walked to his room, but another ping from my phone caused everyone to stop in their tracks. “What did he say!?” Maria bounced in place.

“Good bye!” I called behind me, continuing my walk down the stairs slightly faster this time. It wasn’t until I was outside the front door did I check the unread message.

No need to worry about that. I’ll come to pick you up. Where will you be after your meeting?

My stomach turned once again.

I can drive myself.

Lucien replied almost immediately.

I insist.

There was no winning with this guy...

...LFG. 6:00. Don’t be late.

I put my phone back in my pocket and closed my eyes, sucking in a deep breath of the morning air. Six o’clock was twelve hours away. That is just enough time to mentally prepare myself to open up to a person… after years of shutting people out… it took me three months just to talk to my foster family… oh boy.

(Next)

[tommyplum]

- the midlands | tommy/alfie for @boundinshallows’ sholomons prompt fest 2019

May Carleton leaves Birmingham; Alfie Solomons stays. There's no need to let a perfectly good hotel reservation go to waste.

notes: I have a fondness for Alfie bottoming (which is not on trend for this fandom lol) so whoever left this prompt, thank you for the excuse to write this. content warning for sex. - maggie

"As it so happens, Alfie," Tommy said. Just like that, an addendum, a drop into the still that his compatriot in the business could lift to his nose and inhale, or could let evaporate into the ether, as he showed Alfie Solomons out of his distillery after the tour, the critiques, the introductions. "As it so happens, I've a suite at The Midlands booked that's going to go to waste if nobody occupies it, tonight. You don't have to make the trip back to London right away, if you don't need to." 

Tommy took a long, dry pull from his cigarette, and Alfie watched as he looked up, away, at a starling whose little toe-claws were skittering along a ceiling pipe. "If you don't want to, that is."

And then Tommy held out his hand, and they pressed flesh, Alfie's middle finger still tingling slightly under his nail from the aid for incurable sadness he'd dipped it in.

Birmingham was still rank with swine flesh when they trundled back out to the car, and Alfie stood in the heavy, grey air for a few moments. The smell of juniper was still high up in his nose, dry, not sweet enough for some quarters and prospective interests, but it did, at least, cut through the trayf. 

That was something worth pondering on.

"Ishmael," Alfie said, finally starting towards the car properly and opening his door, bundling himself in and shutting it with a yank of his cane, "find out where the fuck in this dismal shit hole there is what the natives optimistically refer to as a hotel." Ishmael, accustomed by now to his boss giving orders that ran perpendicular, adjacent, or downright contrary to everything that had come before, merely nodded and collared a couple of Small Heathians who were passing as Alfie took the time to not settle himself in for a long ride back to Camden Town.

The Midlands. You couldn't have asked for a more fitting name for this, Tommy my dove, he thought, and lifted his anointed hand to his nose as the car lurched into motion.

---

Tommy Shelby, it seemed, then had the ever-loving fucking effrontery to make Alfie wait -- yet again -- for his hallowed arrival.

"Right, I'm on the verge of taking whatever car you've got for yourself outside and driving me own way out of this facking pustule of a town, Tommy, so you'd best get out of my way." Alfie gestured with his cane, a couple inches away from thwacking Tommy's knee with it, his hands knotting and sprawling to express the full range of his annoyance with this day's being inconvenienced by one tightly-wound Peaky bastard. 

"I do apologize, Alfie," Tommy said, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he continued in the same vein of airy nonchalance that he'd cultivated at some point in his fledgling gangster career, Alfie surmised, to sound unflappable and unmoved and just a touch arrogant. It did have a certain charm, if you weren't currently aggravated out of your bloody mind. 

Although he couldn't sort out why Tommy also saw fit to unbutton his waistcoat and take off his glasses, placing them very carefully on the sideboard, until Tommy came over, close. Close enough for Alfie to pick out the scent of mint and ginger on his breath, the astringency of his skin. He'd shaved, recently. "There was a bit of last-minute business that delayed me, couldn't be avoided," Tommy continued. "I plan to make it up to you, though. The inconvenience."

Tommy put his thumb briefly against Alfie's throat, to the side of his adam's apple. And then he sank down to his knees.

"This is one hell of an apology, mate," Alfie began, instantly wary, his fingers re-wrapping themselves around the handle of his cane. Just in case. "Not saying it isn't warranted, given the bad manners of both yourself and your festering city--"

"I'd tell you to shut up," Tommy said, almost conversationally. He turned his head, and his nose and mouth and chin pressed against the front of Alfie's trousers, warm, insistent, interested. "But you wouldn't listen."

Tommy raised an unhurried look at Alfie, through the dark spikes of his eyelashes. "And I think hearing yourself talk is what gets you hard, anyways."

Alfie grunted. Half in surprise, half in agreement; and, fuck, it was the fucking Midlands, wasn't it? He'd not been entirely unaware of what this meeting in this for-some-reason unoccupied suite might involve. He was only a little rumbled because Tommy'd presumed that Alfie would wait for him, yet again.

But here he was, having waited. And here was Tommy, undoing Alfie's trousers and reaching inside for his cock, hands considerately warm for a change as he cupped Alfie's balls, rolling, fondling, and grasped his stiffening length to take stock. Finding that Alfie possibly would prefer some encouragement, Tommy took his paw back, licked the palm, and then replaced it, neat as a cat as he kneaded Alfie's sac and tugged at his cock.

"Keep talking, then," Tommy said. Alfie brought the hooked handle of his cane around to the back of Tommy's clipped head, pulling him in as he settled his feet into a wider stance. Obliging of him, that was, and Tommy must have agreed because he slipped both his hands in further past the unfolding material of Alfie's trousers. Helping himself to what he found there, thickening at his touch.

"The secret to great oratory, posy, is to never capitulate to the pressure for a command performance. No matter how enticing the compensation might seem at first glance--" Alfie's words gave way to a low sigh, breath heating up his tongue on the way past his parted lips as Tommy bobbed forward to take the head of Alfie's terribly eager prick into his mouth. Tommy's lips were wet, slicked up with his own spit as he sank right on down without a care as to keeping things tidy, none of the mannered propriety that Alfie occasionally found so ridiculous.

His cane skidded down, to the back of Tommy's neck, but Alfie left it there loose. Tommy was doing all the work already and needed no guidance or encouragement and Alfie rested his other hand on Tommy's face, the heel of his palm against that hollow, hollowing cheek, pressing in now and again to feel the bulbous push of his own cockhead. Onanism as translated through the mouth of Thomas Shelby, Alfie thought, but he let that one go as soon as it formed, nebulous and mocking and perhaps entirely too potent to be part of having his cock swallowed in a shit Birmingham hotel.

Tommy cupped Alfie's balls as he pulled back with wetness dripping in rivulets down the shaft of Alfie's cock, off the ruddied pink of Tommy's lips, saliva and precum both in a bubbling cocktail that brined the air with its scent. "Get me there, eh, Tom," Alfie murmured, "and it'll be apology accepted. Providing that you never again ask that I insult my preferred cobblers by setting shoe leather a step into your wank-stain of a city, yeah?"

Alfie grunted as Tommy -- in reply, he supposed -- pinched the soft skin of his sac, otherwise ignoring the barbs aimed at his family seat of operations, and instead dove the tip of his tongue into Alfie's slit. Poking in, fucking the sensitive orifice, and the handle of Alfie's cane rose to rub against the crease at the base of Tommy's skull as its wielder blinked at the ceiling and its shabby crown mouldings, feeling showers of sparks going off in the corners of his eyes. His cock pulsed, thumping for attention against the roof of Tommy's mouth when the warm wet heat of it thankfully returned en toto, and Tommy's hand slid further back, behind Alfie's balls, the calloused drag of a thumb-pad chasing the push of his middle fingertip. Sticky, and slippery, and when Tommy's finger forced its way into Alfie's hole his whole body jerked, galvanized.

His cane clattered to the floor and Alfie grabbed Tommy's head with both hands, rumpling his raven hair as he strained and bucked forward and came, hugely, incandescently, with a groan that ran circles through his chest before it hit the air and became fully-realized sound. Tommy stayed in tight, and Alfie -- fingers splayed all down Tommy's throat, all over his face, everywhere -- for a moment thought he might black out at the feel and sound of him swallowing all the seed Alfie had to give.

They stayed there for a few long yawning moments, Alfie's blood thumping in his ears, before Tommy moved back. Detaching himself and getting to his feet, drawing the back of one hand over his sloppy, used mouth. Alfie glanced down at his cane -- fuck it, he'd give himself the luxury of tucking back in and doing up his clothes first before he attempted to bend and retrieve it -- and said through a slightly heavy tongue, "Right, then. Make it sweet like that for the Americans, Tommy, and you'll have no trouble finding yourself a market."

He started to fold himself back together, material of his trousers hopelessly creased and possibly somewhat stained, but Alfie found his movements stopped by Tommy's hand on his wrist. "Hmmm?" he thrummed, thinking of the pistol under his coat, but Tommy didn't make any untoward movements.

Instead, he jutted his jaw to one side as he pinned Alfie with a level stare and said, clear and hard as a nail dropping on brick, "Oh, no, Alfie. Not yet. You're in Birmingham now, son, and that's not how we leave things."

And then Tommy was on him. Peeling back layers and layers of clothes, Alfie's coat, his jacket, his waistcoat and prayer shawl and shirt, discarding them all across the reproduction chaise longue that sat foolishly at the foot of the bed. "I'm gonna fuck you," Tommy breathed against Alfie's mouth, chasing him down with his nose and his shoulders and chest as he let go of Alfie to attend to his own clothes, stripping them off with far less care and letting them fall to the floor. "You think that might bring on some fucking oratory? Ay? Is that the kind of command performance you'll agree to?"

He hunched his shoulders forward, and Alfie was by no means a small man in terms of built-up muscle but Tommy was bulling ahead, compact and strong, a goddamn clay-kicker, wasn't he, and Alfie found himself -- body already drunk on the force of his climax -- unbalanced. He dropped back onto the bed with a slight bounce that met with Tommy's body coming down on his, and from there off came the shoes and trousers and shorts and it was the two of them naked, hard, against each other in The fucking Midlands.

Alfie shoved himself up higher on the mattress, at a curved diagonal, and watched as Tommy had the audacity to reach down into the pocket of his discarded jacket and bring out a vial of oil. Catching Alfie's incredulous look, Tommy tipped his chin to the side briefly with a smirk, lips twitching up at the corner. "Yeah, that's right, Alfie," he said, voice down to a husky tease, "that's how sure I was that you'd end up on your back for me. Everyone who comes to Birmingham does, one way or another."

"Hrrrmm." Alfie went up on his elbows, his cock still half-hard, sloped heavily against his thigh as he spread his legs, letting Tommy in between them with one knee on the mattress. "Is that generally before or after you get on your knees for them, then, love?"

Tommy gave a chuffing laugh, rust-clogged like he'd long since forgotten how that particular expression of emotion worked, and for a distinct moment the air of the hotel suite went still and they looked at each other, blue-grey and gin-blue, and Tommy might have taken that opportunity to close the distance between them and press his mouth against Alfie's.

The moment passed. The air moved again. Stirred by the wings of starlings and kestrels, of jackdaws.

Reaching past Alfie, Tommy clawed up the sheets and coverlet and bunched them roughly behind Alfie's back, down to his hips, and Alfie obligingly raised himself for the bolstering. His thighs parted more easily at that angle, Tommy reaching down between them to slide his oiled-up fingers between the heft of Alfie's arsecheeks, to the tight furl of his hole. Tighter than might be expected, from the flicker of Tommy's eyebrow as he pressed one fingertip in, then two, twisting. 

"Been, ah -- a while, right, since I was tended to in that particular fashion," Alfie said mildly, still up on his elbows because he'd be damned if he was going to miss the sight of this, Tommy Shelby pouring oil into the open palm of the hand that currently had two fingers wedged into Alfie's arse. "Circumstances being as they are, as in nobody generally has the fucking wherewithal to attempt to sodomize me." Alfie uncurled and re-curled his fingers, allowing, "--at least, not in the literal sense."

Tommy tilted his hand and the oil ran down the trough of his fingers, funnelling into Alfie's clutching hole, and he shoved his fingers in deep with a satisfied flicker in his eyes as Alfie's breath hitched. "I've been told," he said seriously, "that I have a tendency towards an over-abundance of ambition. Good or bad, Alfie, d'you think? Is that tendency?"

"Fuckin' good , Tommy," Alfie growled, finally sinking back into the crumpled sheets as Tommy followed him, climbing up onto the bed and positioning himself where he could do the most damage. Alfie's gaze dotted over the line of his shoulders, the circle of his tattoo, the various thin lines and ranges of scars, but never alighted in one place too long. This wasn't the first time they'd clinched like this, groping at each other, learning each other's bodies; it was, though, the first time they'd been entirely undressed. Laid out available to see and be seen, to map, to catalogue, to discern the various key components and be dissected in turn. 

It was, Alfie found, entirely too much to be dealt with at the moment. Let it wait. 

He focused instead on the feel of Tommy's cock, the blunt sticky head of it rubbing along the tender skin between Alfie's legs, circling the over-sensitized thin slick of his hole, the tip of Tommy's thumb pushing in for a moment before he withdrew it and grasped himself anew. Guiding that fat tip to Alfie's hole and pushing, pressing, and then driving in with a lunge, a shout, a tremble that went through his entire body.

Alfie's mouth panted wetly open, his lips feeling swollen despite going unassaulted by kisses, and he rubbed the back of his head against the sheets to bruise out the smell of himself, treacly rum and oven-bricked bread and Portugal water, making it rise to wreath them both. "Fuck," he breathed, and "-- fuck ," Tommy echoed, fitting his hand under Alfie's arm and around his back as he got himself adjusted, other hand pushing Alfie's thigh open so he could get in closer, sink in deeper. Alfie's head was swimming, a peppermint-electric spiderwebbing of sensation through his groin and arse and belly as Tommy's thick cock drove in further and further without mercy, Tommy's breath rasping above him.

"Is it good," Tommy insisted again, then moved back, only a little, and shoved forward again to make a long, desperate groan clamber its way up through Alfie's chest and pour from his mouth. " Tell me how fucking good it is, Alfie. I want it. I want to hear it."

"Then bloody well fuck me, Tommy!" Alfie roared, lifting his head as he reached out to splat his hands haphazardly against Tommy's side, his back, and damned if that wasn't exactly what his mule-stubborn cunt of a partner was waiting for because Tommy snarled back, leaving off holding Alfie's thighs apart to grab his hip and thrust forward, impaling him in one go and then sliding directly into a punishing pounding rhythm. The slap of their skin, oil and sweat, macerating the grunts and moans they punctuated the air with, Tommy's intense single-minded muttered yeah yeah yes fuck yeah and Alfie's pouchy gusts of articulated encouragement on each in-thrust.

The sheets under him bunched tighter as they fucked, Tommy's arse rising and falling with his galloping pace and snorted breath, the whinny of his oncoming release, and as much as Alfie wanted it, his body clutching and clenching in remembered desire as Tommy's cock dragged into that sweet spot inside him, he knew he'd be laid up the next day, more likely than not. Thoughtful sheet-bundle under his hips or not. "Come on, then, Tommy, yeah, that's my boy," Alfie rumbled through gritted teeth, pushing up until he could grind his bearded chin against Tommy's shoulder, rub it against the freshly-shaved skin of his neck. "Give it to me, since you're in a giving mood, that's it, because we are who we are, hmmm?" Alfie wrapped his hand around the back of Tommy's neck, bearing down on the hammering thrusts that were beating him open, demanding, not to be denied. 

"We do all our killing at close range, don't we, Tommy, we do it personal ."

Tommy grabbed Alfie tighter, colliding with him, bowling him over as he drilled Alfie into the mattress until his thrusts, increasingly erratic and impassioned, stopped short. He dropped his head forward and bit into Alfie's shoulder, blood tipping the ends of his teeth yellow-red when he removed them from torn flesh, throwing his head back in a short, anguished howl. And Alfie watched, committing it all to memory, jotting it all down in the box of his brain and the meat of his body, soaking up Tommy's spunk as it spurted deep inside him.

"Jesus," Tommy muttered when it seemed he could breathe normally again, and Alfie murmured, "--not the right Jew, darling, but I'll take it as a compliment."

Tommy made an explosive little sound that could have been a laugh, and eased out and rolled off, causing the bed to dip to one side before Tommy got to his feet. Turning his back on Alfie and reaching down to his coat again to get his cigarette case and lighter, as Alfie blinked up at the crown mouldings and felt cum trickling out of him and the little oil bottle bumping against his thigh, realizing that Tommy'd let all the oil they hadn't used spill and soak into the mattress. How many of his erstwhile paramours, Alfie wondered as Tommy's smoke started to make trails, did Mr. Shelby of Watery Lane rent this suite for? How many ruined bedclothes left in his wake?

Alfie rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes as he stretched experimentally; the ache in his lower back was making its long approach, yet, for which he was grateful as he pushed himself up on his elbow -- only to see Tommy fastening up his trousers, shouldering into his shirt. Everything about the way he was moving, the way he was holding himself -- finger-combing his blue-black hair into place, his stare retreating into that remote still sky-blue -- telegraphing what the next move was. The next move that this suite at The fucking Midlands had seen a dozen times over, a score of times.

And so Alfie let himself sink back down into the bed, gingerly bringing his legs up onto it properly and twitching the covers to lie in a damp twist over his hips, trailing down the backs of his thighs as he turned to face the window. "Yeah, go on then, get out of here," he said, waving Tommy off as if he were no more than a pestering maître d'. "I'm sorted and from what I hear, this suite's unoccupied and therefore mine for the night, and I'd like to get some rest before I make the long trip back to civilization in the morning."

The slight patter of Tommy's lips blowing out smoke sounded loud in the room. That was the only sound he made, save one: the gentle tik of Alfie's cane, when Tommy picked it up from the floor and leaned it upright against the bloody chaise longue. The door didn't even make much of a noise when he opened it to leave, shut it behind him.

"Come to Birmingham," Alfie said to himself, letting his eyes drift shut. "Be damned for breathing. Go to The Midlands ... and find a way to damn yourself even further, is that it? Ahhrrnn . Eradicate your incurable fucking sadness, yeah." His sore, strained body slumped into the mattress, too worn from the drive and the day's events and the unexpected fucking it had taken to sustain awakeness any longer, and Alfie sighed, letting himself go under, letting go of the thought that had been circulating in his head for days. Weeks.

Big fucks small. 

He'd come back to that, when the time was right.

/end

[luccislegs]

Hello, can i request a scenario for Luffy please? The plot is what if she got drunk because of Zoro tell her she lost their bet about he knows her feeling towards Luffy, in the middle of bickering against Zoro, Luffy shows up asking what they talk bout, Zoro wanna tease her but she choose to kiss Luffy after that is up to you hehehe thank you very much hope my plot doesnt confuse you

awe i love luffy. the way his eyes sometimes go blank makes me laugh bc it’s clear all that’s going on back there is the theme to halloween. like, you know he’s about to go commit murder.

warnings for alcohol consumption and stupid things done under the influence. nothing bad, i promise. just potentially embarrassing stuff.

–

You knew it was a bad idea to drink with Zoro. You never had a prayer of outdrinking him. What was an even worse idea was agreeing to a bet.

The bet. The one where you would confess to Luffy if you lost. In your defense, you were already drunk when he brought it up. You had an excuse for being stupid.

Unfortunately, Zoro wouldn’t let you cop out. You would swear that man had alcohol for blood, as you had never actually seen him drunk. That was besides the point at this point, though.

Instead, you were attempting to weasel your way out of this.

“A bet’s a bet, _____,” he said, guzzling down another mug of rum. You would swear he was just rubbing it in at this point.

You had tapped out six mugs ago, after you stood up and nearly blacked out. “Look, moss-for-brains, I can’t technically consent. I’m drunk. You took advantage of that. So I don’t think I should have to go through with it.”

Zoro snorted into his mug, coughing a little into it. He came out with his chin dripping, still giving you a smirk. “We weren’t agreeing to have sex. We made a bet. So that doesn’t mean shit,” he said, setting the empty cup on the table. He wasn’t going to let you off so easily. He was tired of watching you dance around Luffy, and knew without a doubt that your confession would be happily accepted.

You refused to see that though, so he had had to resort to this ridiculous show.

“You better go find him, _____. Maybe I’ll tell him for you, and who knows how much I might embarrass you,” he said, and watched you bristle immediately.

“Don’t you dare,” you snarled, narrowing your eyes at him. You absolutely believed him when he said he would. He had no qualms about embarrassing you, or anyone else for that matter. “Fine, but I’m not happy about it,” you grumbled and stood from the table.

He only shrugged, lifting another drink to his lips, when his eyes widened and he smirked. “Looks like you won’t have to search too hard.”

You froze as the door at your back creaked open, turning your head just enough that you could peek over your shoulder. The action made small black dots fill your vision, but you could still recognize that distinctive red vest. When you turned fully to face him, you were surprised to see an uncharacteristic frown on his face, his eyes flicking between you and Zoro in suspicion.

Had you been more clear headed, you might have known what it meant, but you weren’t, so you didn’t. Instead, you just stood there, wondering how much he had actually heard. The alcohol made you paranoid, and you looked back to Zoro for help.

He just sat there, still smirking in amusement, and waved.

“Uh, hey, Luffy,” you said, smiling awkwardly. Oh man this was too hard. It had to be obvious that you were hiding something now. He may be an idiot, but he was oddly astute when he wanted to be.

Apparently, this was one of those times he wanted to be.

“What were you guys talking about?” he asked, settling down in the chair you had just abandoned.

“Oh,” Zoro said, feigning a friendly smile, “_____ here was just talking about how she was gonna come look for you. She had something she wanted to tell you.”

Luffy turned to you at that, waiting expectantly. “Well, I’m here. What did you want?” That frown was really starting to concern you.

“Er, well…” How in the world were you supposed to sound coherent when your head was spinning so badly?

“We made a bet earlier,” Zoro said, staring at you over the rim of his cup. You pinned him with a deadly stare, wishing he would just disappear before he could embarrass you further. “If I could outdrink her, she would have to–”

“Okay, okay, fine,” you said, throwing your hands up in defeat. Words were beyond you, the only thing your mouth was capable of right now was stuttering. It was time to go for broke.

Actions always speak louder than words anyway.

Gripping Luffy’s shirt in your hands, you gently tugged, urging him to get to his feet. From your peripheral, you watched Zoro’s eyes widen, his face turning a very funny shade of red, and you smirked at him before planting your lips squarely on Luffy’s.

It only lasted for a second, just long enough to make your point, before you pulled back. You could feel heat on your cheeks, and you actively avoided looking up at your captain. “Sorry, I couldn’t think of how to say it,” you mumbled, letting go of his shirt.

Before you could put any actual distance between you too, arms snaked around your back, pulling you back.

“Do that again,” Luffy demanded, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek. Before you could decide what exactly to do, there were two consecutive slams in a row.

When you looked to Zoro, you were surprised he hadn’t just burst into flames, because his face was so red it looked like all the blood in his body was gathered there. His mug was lying on it’s side, rum spilling out across the table and falling through the cracks, and his chair was lying on it’s back, knocked over when he stood up in a rush.

“Get a room, you two,” he snapped, looking up at the ceiling, then the door, then the mess on the table. Literally anywhere but at the two of you.

“We are in a room,” Luffy bluntly pointed out. He was so black and white sometimes it was hysterical.

Zoro stuttered something incoherent out, and then the crack of the door slamming followed him exiting the room. You burst out into laughter, your head spinning so fast you would have fallen over had Luffy not been holding you up.

“_____, I think you had better go lay down,” he said, moving to put your arm across his shoulder. He lead you over to the couch across the room, because he could see you were too unsteady to make it down the ladder and to the girl’s room.

You laughed again and nodded, more or less falling onto the overstuffed cushions. Luffy fell down beside you and, when your head rolled over to look at him, he looked serious again.

“I know you’re drunk, _____, so does that mean you didn’t mean it when you kissed me?” He sounded like a worried child, watching you with puppy dog eyes like he was begging you to say no.

You reached out and covered his calloused hand with yours, turning a slight pink as you shook your head. “No, Luffy. That was actually what the bet was. If he won, I would have to come find and confess to you. Kissing you probably wasn’t the best way to go about that, though. I didn’t even know if you wanted me to,” you said, squeezing his hand. “Sorry for that.”

He shook his head in return, smiling again. “I don’t mind. I’ve…I mean…” He scratched the back of his head, knocking his hat off to the side and looking across the room. From that angle it was hard to tell, but you thought he might be blushing. “I’ve wanted to do that for while too.”

You tossed your head back and laughed again, pressing your free hand to your forehead. “We’re really ridiculous, aren’t we?”

He nodded, grinning down at you. “Yeah, we are. Can I kiss you again now?”

You snorted and reached up to cup his cheek. “Maybe not tonight. I think I want to be sober, so we can have a proper one. Besides, I think I’d fall asleep in the middle of it right now. Don’t know if I’d live that down.”

“Aw,” he whined, but didn’t press the issue. Instead, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, nestling you into his side. “You’re gonna be so sore in the morning, _____,” he teased.

He wasn’t wrong, the couch was terribly uncomfortable, but the idea of that ladder was frightening in your current state. Besides, you thought as you snuggled closer to Luffy, if you did brave the ladder, it would mean you couldn’t sleep next to him. So it was worth it.

The instant your eyes closed, you were asleep.

Well, passed out.

–

LOL sorry this took so long to answer. i’ve been writing another fanfic for lucci for my main blog, along with plotting like half a dozen more. anyway, i hope you enjoy this!

[klvht]

Life is more than you think.

I’d like to tell you guys a little story. I apologize for the length, but read with an open mind, and an open heart. I have nothing to gain by telling you guys this story, except that maybe I could convince just one person that there’s more to life than you currently know it.

My life has been far from easy, although I’m sure it has been easier than others.

In the winter of 2013, I had just gone through a bad breakup (first love), was on my way to dating my best friend at the time, (bad idea, I miss you) and I was an overblown atheist.

Long story short, I had moved 8 times in high school between New York, Florida, 3 towns in Massachusetts, and 2 towns in New Jersey. My mother has been ill for a while, my father was stuck with all the work and the bills, I was helping support my family, and I was overwhelmingly depressed and anxious all the time. I was drinking, smoking weed, partying, and popping pills occasionally, I was flunking out of college because of my addictions, depression, and lack of motivation. I was lost and so hurt by everything and everyone in my life, that I did not believe that there could possibly be a God. I mean, honestly, I feel like I always believed in a higher power, but I was falling deeper and deeper into a hole that I thought was the end of my life. I was so ready to die and not be a part of this world anymore. (sorry mom & dad). BUT I’m a LOT better now. I got some therapy back then, separated myself from those causing me intentional and non-intentional harm, and finally went away to college and met some great people and made some great memories;

Flash to May 2014: I came home from college, changed my career path, took online classes, worked full time, and was just trying to find my purpose in life. I now have a B.S. in Criminal Justice & Administration, have my dream car, am working towards my MBA & CPA, and life couldn’t look brighter for me. I’m finally happy after forcing myself to work full time, part time, plus school, and managing bills for nearly 3 years. I decided to give up my secure, full time job because I feel like God didn’t want me there anymore. I started to find myself, I wanted to find my purpose, I still don’t know what that is, but I know God will show me.

Back to the winter of 2013: I was dating a firefighter at the time, and we had gone to a firehouse Christmas dinner. I was in a pretty outfit, in heels, and we were drinking. (shame on you, adults! why did you condone such things?) Anyways, after the party, we headed out, down the flight of outside fire steps, and clumsy little ol me fell down the stairs. (AFTER I was begging my bf at the time to walk in front of me, but he still didn’t catch me lol). I straight up BROKE my ankle! I was in so much pain and tried to just keep walking on it like I had with my broken ankles in the past (must’ve broken them at least 3x each at that point) but this time was different. I was stressing about how I was going to make it up the hills of my campus, as well as 2-3 flights of stairs just to get to my dorm room. I thought I was doomed. The doctor gave me a walking boot along with crutches, but it was still WAY too painful to walk around on the boot without using the crutches.

Little did I know, my parents were praying for me the whole time. That is why I am SOOO strong with my feelings on prayer, because THEIR prayers were what brought me to the start of my true walk with Jesus Christ. I remember them BEGGING me to go to this healing mass with them, because my mom was going due to recent news from the doctors about possibly having cancer. I reluctantly agreed, but I am SO glad now, that I did.

There were SOO many people at this healing mass, and my mentality was something like: “What the heck? This cant be real, like what? People get magically healed? Yeah, okay.” The priest told us that we had to have an open mind, and that we had to believe. I sure am glad to have always had an open mind! When he approached me, he looked at me, and just went “You are such a beautiful person.” And my first thought was “oh, maybe I look pretty today” cause I’ve def been way to vain my whole life. But he wasn’t talking about my appearance, he was talking about my soul. And I totally felt the touch and the pulling of the Holy Spirit within this man. He asked me what I needed healing for, and I told him that I have a broken ankle, and I was struggling with depression and anxiety. He looked at me, touched my forehead, and started praying over me in a COMPLETELY different language, which I soon after learned was called tongues. After what felt like a lifetime (most likely a few seconds), my head jolted down to my broken ankle, because it felt like it was blowing up like a balloon! My ankle was SO warm in my walking boot, and I felt just so happy and satisfied and full of what I have been longing for my whole life, just peace, love, acceptance, and bliss. A part of me wants to remember the priest chuckling at me lol, but he did say “You feel the warmth, don’t you?” And I just looked back up to him, closed my eyes, and let him finish praying over me.

When I tell you that I was healed by Jesus Christ, I’m not kidding. I walked out of the church on my ankle that day. No crutches needed, but I was already in the walking boot. I remember my dad being worried, saying “be careful”, but I was like NOPE I’VE BEEN HEALED AND JESUS LOVES ME! I fell away from the church after that, kept living in sin, kept partying, kept giving into my addictions, but Jesus recently visited me in a dream, like 4/13/2020 recent. He came to save me once again during this quarantine, during all this darkness, and to get me to walk back with Him, for I fear time is short before He returns. I believe I have had about 10 dreams now that were given to me by God, and please if you have any questions, do NOT hesitate to ask me. Whether here, in messenger, or if you see me in person. I used to be afraid to speak up, but I cannot be. I am a warrior for God. I believe in Him, I trust in Him, and I worship Him. He is love. He is forgiveness. He is peace. He is bliss. And trust me, He is everything you’ve been longing for, even if you don’t know it.

Thanks for reading.

God Bless You All! And I love you.

The worst you could do after reading this is nothing.

The best you could do is call out to God. What’s the worst that could happen?

The only thing stopping you, is you.

[wevegottogetaway]

Whirlwind - Part II

Hey there!

It’s safe to say the latest events have taken our world upside-down and for me it’s had at least the positive result of getting me back in a writing mood. It’s been a hard couple of months but there is just something in everybody going through something somewhat traumatic that makes me want to snap out of my day to day “small-world” problems and be more proactive in life. So here is part 2 of Whirlwind, I can tell you I’ve never had to write anything as hard as this (try writing something highly technical on something you have zero knowledge about lol). Anyway, I think it came out decent so please enjoy and criticize! I would love to hear your thoughts on it!

All the health, and all the happiness xx

Part II - Bora

Echoes are bouncing within the sturdy walls of the San Diego Marine Corps Air Station’s main hangar. Blackshoes are in the middle of pre-flight logistics runs and equipment set-up before the launch of Top Gun program’s first training mission. Aircrafts are being carefully escorted outside towards the runway, the sound of their roaring turbines whelming Harry’s ears but he doesn’t let that disturb his self-reflecting musings. His body is leant on the metallic hinges of the warehouse’s entrance as his absentminded gaze doesn’t shift from the take-off runway.

He is about an hour early but the upcoming events of the day have had him on edge since he reluctantly draped the cool bedsheets off his body that morning. How could he possibly get a wink of sleep knowing he was, at last, going back amongst the clouds for the first time since the accident? For the first time without his best friend. For the first time without is partner by his side (or rather behind him) watching out for hidden threats and targets in line. Jonathan had always had his back but from this day forward Harry would have to rely on Aella to keep them both safe.

He doesn’t know what to make of that, what to make of her. There is no questioning her skills and capability, one could never join this program without those…but two highly proficient flyers don’t necessarily equal one flawless unit. Especially since they know so little of each other. Be that as it may, the fellowship that binds two pilots flying the same aircraft is indispensable to their success. In those life-of-deaths seconds, when it feels like the sky is closing in on them and the next move can make or break them, it all comes down to one thing: the entrustment between him and her.

And he wants to. Wants to take his trust out from the jetted pocket of his uniform, lay it on the palm of her hand and enclose her fingers around it to keep secure. But it doesn’t work like that, does it? Trust is not so much a choice as it is a spontaneous feeling immune to rational thinking. And for a reason he doesn’t want to mull over too much, Harry can’t help but feel wary of her in a way. He’s seen her fire; the night before last when she made a fool out of their most redoubtable opponent. Recognized the same flame that used to inhabit his best friend’s eyes and make him the warmest being Harry ever got to be around. It doesn’t sway him as much as it scares him. Fierceness is a good trait in the Navy world, but too much of it can be deceitful. Harry experienced it first-hand.

He doesn’t dwell on it too much for now though, and makes his way to the back of the warehouse where his "classmates" have started to huddle while waiting for the superiors. Most of the promotion is there, the usual inner-groups appearing clearly to Harry as his eyes takes in the scene: herdsman Rex and his sheeps on one side while the other crews enjoy one last round of banter before their sternness is summoned for the first mission of the program.  

Harry takes note of Aella’s absence just as someone calls out to him. "Styles!" It’s his callsign tumbling out of Dean Marshall’s mouth. Harry used to have another, but the only person who was allowed to make use of that one special letter, is no longer able to claim it.

Dean and his partner Emmet Iggersman - or as they are commonly addressed to on base, Dazzler and Tigger - complete the other half of Harry and Aella’s team. The four of them fly in tandem to form a section and hopefully fulfill the missions’ objectives before the others do. Harry has flown many a time with these two guys and he’s glad he’ll be able to count on them as well, should his new pairing go south.

"Hey Daz, how’s it goin’ ?" his greeting is followed by a good-natured handshake.

"S’ goin’ awesome, thanks for asking! My boy just started walking like a penguin on steroids right before I left. I swear the little champ is takin’ the helm to keep his mum on her toes while his father’s gone!" The proud smirk teasing Dazzler’s lips triggers a contagious chuckle from his peers as they all take in the sheer bliss coloring the new-dad’s face.

"That’s swell man! Send my prayers to Catherine, sounds like she might need it, yeah?"

"Will do Styles, but enough ‘bout me, how are you holding up? I can’t deal fo’ you man, what with Fox gone and this new partner thing…" There’s a painful tug at Harry’s chest at the utterance of Jonathan’s callsign, the nickname born from his tangerine-like hair though Harry always believed it was more reference to his best-friend incredibly cunning mind. He ignores it in favor of a more tempered and diplomatic answer than that of his crying heart.

"It’ll be an adjustment fo’ sure, yeah. But overall I’m just glad to be back in the game"

"As we all are Styl-" Tigger has just placed a comforting hand on Harry’s broad shoulder when he is interrupted by none other than Rex’s disdainful voice.

"Hey girls! How’s the BFFs reunion going?"

Dazzler doesn’t hesitate before stepping forward and firing back. "Just about a punch away from properly kickin’off. Why? are you offerin’?"

"Wooo I’m shaking" Rex replies with a fake tremor. Then he seems to spot something - or rather someone - coming up behind Harry and Tigger. 

It’s Aella, head kept down as to not attract any attention. She’s seen the despicable man interacting with her new crew so she tries to reach the makeshift classroom (mostly just chairs lined up in a couple rows in the middle of a hangar) as inconspicuously as possible. The déjà-vu impression is not lost on her.

"There she is!" Aella tilts her head up, knowing she’s busted. "Miss James Bond Girl in the flesh! C’mere sweetheart, come show these suckers who wears the pants in this team!" Her hatred for him levels up a notch (as if possible) but Aella doesn’t know what she hates the most about this nonsense. The fact he is ridiculing her once again or the fact he’s acting like none of the after James-Bond-Girl-debacle two nights ago ever happened. As though she didn’t put him in his place like the badass she is.

Or maybe it’s the affectionate pet-name coming out of his repugnant lips and directed to her… Anyway, she doesn’t have the time to prepare a comeback before a second round is launched, this time at her new partner.

"Better watch it Styles! Next thing you know you’ll be the one in the freakin’ kitchen…"

"Cut it out, Rex-" Harry starts defending his team but a stern and humorless voice overpowers his.

"I don’t reckon anyone asked for your moronic opinions, dumbass. So please pack your ignorant bullshit away and leave us the fuck alone" She keeps her countenance as she tells him off but Rex is not budging an inch and neither is the insolent smirk hung on his face.

"Damn Harry, quite the mouthy one you have here. Sure you can handle her?"

"For Christ’s sake, please shut the hell up and go back where you came from Rex or by God I swear I won’t hesitate to have you weep on the floor for your momma like a baby, again."

"Again?" Dazzler perks up with a smiling frown just as Rex’s smugness fades away to be replaced by unadulterated contempt.

"You’re delusional if you think I can be scared of you Lonethorne" he spats out while backing away, head up mighty high. "Stupid cunts" he adds under his breath as he turns around to rejoin his buddies.

Aella knows she’s worked herself up but she can’t help but call out to him one more time. "Oh and Rex?… How’s the hand doing?" He doesn’t give her the curtesy of a respond but Aella is satisfied with the flare of his nose and the twitch in his eye.

Meanwhile the three men still at her sides are left speechless, Dazzler and Tigger still processing the heated exchange while Harry seems lost in his own thoughts. She’d done dit it again. Let the fire out and turned Rex’s crudeness into ashes before they could scar her skin. There was no attempt of taming the beast before she went in guns blazing and that doesn’t help assuage his worries one bit. She’s too impulsive is playing in his head over and over like a broken record. Because while Harry agrees Rex is the worst kinds of knobheads, he’s always believed responding to antagonization was pointless. Better to look the other way and let the jerk waste his energy on petty words that will never reach him. And because all in all, there are dogfighters, but that endeavor is reserved in the air, not on land.

"My my, darling. You just pimped the shit out of the least pimpable man on base. I think I’m in awe." Dazzler says after regaining his senses.

"Please don’t call me darling" Aella retorts softly as she knows he doesn’t mean it in any condescending way.

"Sorry. Aella, is it?"

"Yeah, that’s me. And you are…?"

"Dazzler, so very nice to meet you" he smiles widely accepting her handshake offer. "And just a heads-up dear Aella. After you tell me all about weeping Rex, you and I are gonna be besties, I can feel it" She chuckles lightly at his enthusiasm and decides she'll not only welcome his affection but also return it. Before she can reciprocate the sentiment however, the room falls suddenly quiet and a second later the reason, or rather four reasons, come into her view: Commander Berks, Lieutenant Rogers and two other officers that have yet to be introduced.

"Morning everyone, I can tell some of you over-indulged in Induction Rave. If you could put the same amount of devotion you put at getting faced into your training, I would be eternally grateful." Berks earns himself a full house of laughters before compelling the room back to sobriety. "Time to be serious now. ACM training was not invented to entertain you and make you look pretty up there. As an era where the potential of confrontation is constantly rising, air combat excellence is now more than ever a vital technique to the protection of our country. And don’t you forget that: you are above all defenders of the nation. Not heroes, not athletes, I say again: protectors. Best be at you sharpest then." The Commander pauses after his inspiring tirade.

"Now, let’s talk about this first assignment. Just plain good old-fashioned dogfighting to give you guys a foretaste of what’s coming. Today it’s gonna be 4 units at a time against 4 of ours. Your goal is to target any one of the instructors’ units while trying not to be shot yourself. I’ll say it now, we won’t go easy on you. This exercise is meant as an assessment of your current skills, so don’t get too cocky up there, just do your ex-commanders honor. First one to reach its target or last one to be shot wins the mission. Remember, there is no points for second place in this program." He pauses and starts grinning. "Now, show me what you got."

With that Aella tries a small glance in Harry’s direction but his eyes are fixed towards the horizon with a permanent frown shrouding their luminescence. 

She sighs.

Fully equipped of her G-suit, helmet and headset, Aella is making the last adjustments on her seat at the back of the cockpit. She’s not unfamiliar with the radar intercept officer position though she’s usually the one at the commands. She’s also used to flying alone.

The panel in front of her intimidatingly takes up all her front view with a couple of screens and numerous switches and tuners. Her perspective is limited to a peripheral vision on both side of the F-14 but she wouldn’t be relying on a full panorama to spot target and threats anyway. No her job is to accurately keep tract of all flying elements within the largest range and most anticipated time possible. There’s no point in crying out for enemy presence when they’re already at your six and firing away… Along with relaying their position to Harry, Aella can also suggest tactical maneuvers based on the predictions she draws from the opponents’ moves.

Speaking of Harry, they haven’t exchanged a word since their brief introduction two days ago. Now they’re both tightly harnessed to their seat about to navigate a near-thirsty-tons engine beyond the speed of sound. Aella’s never been a religious one but as the technician gives her one last thumb up to signal their operational status, she’s praying to all the Gods the awkwardness between them on land is nothing but the result of a subliminal force destined to counterbalance their incredible chemistry once in the air.

The canopy of the cockpit locks them into silence before Harry speaks up. "All good?" The mediocre quality of microphone’s transducer makes his voice even raspier than fathomable through the headset tucked over Aella’s ears.

"Yeah all good. You?"

"Same."

She thinks their conversation is over but then she hears a hushed voice. "Let’s kick the tires and light the fires" She figures it was more so for his own benefit though, so she doesn’t comment.

All too soon they’re propelled forward, backs pinned to their seats because of the tremendous speed pressure. It can be a small-scale body trauma for some but Aella has never felt more comfortable. A tingle of the fingertips later, they are welcomed in an infinite azure dotted by a few scarce clouds, the runway long gone behind them. Both pilots enjoy a couple peaceful seconds to take in their new panorama and then it begins.

"I’ve got a six strobe. I think he’s locked on us." Aella starts reading out the incoming movements entering her radar scope.

With a switch on his radio transmitter, Harry reaches out to Dazzler and Tigger as they are flying in a parallel tandem alongside them. "Tigger, you spot it?"

"Positive. It’s Rogers, looks like he’s a single." Tigger who endorses the same role as Aella quickly reports, before she pitches back in for a few more precisions.

"Contact at 900 knots closure. He’s gaining speed."

"Daz, it’s split time." Harry announces.

"Copy that Styles."

After Dazzler’s approval, the two aircrafts are both sharply veering outwards in a defensive split, leaving a Y-shaped trail of smoke after them. The move comes through as the chaser is contrived to choose one direction to follow, but to Harry’s dismay they get the short end of the stick.

"Rogers coming left, eight o’clock high." Aella signals immediately.

The scenery below them is a mix of wild purples and pale magentas, with fields-worth of lavender adorning the dry soil so characteristic of Californian lands. Peace and nature prevail on these grounds slightly remote from the bustling life of the city but the same cannot be said twenty-thousand feet above where Harry is caught in a tedious game of zig-zag trying to escape his pursuer.

"He’s tailing us. Watch your six!" Aella’s pulse quickens every time Rogers’ unit manages to lock its position right behind them. There is no more vulnerable position for a pilot than to have an enemy flying at their six. It usually means incoming fire. It’s why Harry is relentlessly jerking the TomCat in a rapid and unpredictable manner, the constant change in direction making it near-impossible for Rogers to locate, aim and shoot them.

"No shit Sherlock, why d’you think I’m jinxing so much?" Harry is starting to see spots on his peripheral vision from the gravitational pull, and he can only hope his tailgater is experiencing the same. Beads of sweat dotting his hairline and starting to dribble along his temples but it doesn’t put a damper on his concentration. He can’t relent or he becomes an exposed target.

"Goddamn, he’s not budgin.’" Harry tries with all his might to leave his frustration out of the cockpit but the situation is not looking up.

"You got new contact ahead, 2 o’clock." Aella perks up at the discovery.

"Imma bit preoccupied with Rogers up my ass, if you haven’t noticed." 

She should have known pointing out a potential target while they were heavily pursued themselves was not what Harry wanted to hear, but she already had a plan all mapped out. That’s what Aella is her best at after-all: reading a situation and coming up with a strategy in .2 second flat, no reflexion needed, just the numbers, the physics and the sky on her side.

"I didn’t mean it as a target. You can use them as a shield if you keep Rogers high enough right before making a dive under them." She explains her vision to him, desperately wishing she could be the one in front executing it.

"He’ll just go above and back to tailgating us."

"Not if you barrel-roll right after the contact, he’ll just overshoot." His lack of response betrays his skepticism so she insists further, brushing off the way he’s second-guessing her.  

"At the least, it’ll give you leeway and buy you some time." This time her argument weights enough to tip his scale in favor of her plan.

"‘lright then." Harry reluctantly agrees, tilting his chin slightly to the side as if he couldn’t believe himself he was going through with her move.  "’s gonna be snug timing."

"Just trust my cue." Aella’s words are left hanging between them like a desperate echo thrown in an empty ravine. Does he trust her? Does she? It’s definitely not the moment to reflect on it, much less have a discussion about it, but neither of them are oblivious to the eerie silence filling up their space like a faux smile greeting a bad joke. Then the aircraft is once again yanked to a blunt left and Aella is snapped out of it.

"That’s it. Target at 1 mile abeam 40° on your right." She’s got the fellow fighter in her line of view, both on the radar and through the bulletproof glass of the F-14′s canopy. "Keep high, keep high…3, 2, 1, drop!" Harry immediately complies, the aircraft nearly skimming the underbelly of its twin above before shooting right back upwards, nose pointing at the sun. The trajectory describes a half loop leaving them upside-down for a milli-second before Harry rolls them back to normal, in the end effectively realizing a vertical U-turn. Rogers skillfully avoids a fetal collision with the third wheeler but doesn’t anticipate Harry’s sudden volte-face, which leaves him ways ahead in accordance with Aella’s prognosis.

"Fuck, we’re losin’ airspeed." Because of such a twist of direction, they are indeed relegated to a lesser speed which Harry is not too enchanted about.

"He’s losing some too." Aella reasons, before jumping to another matter. "2 incoming bogies ahead. I think it’s Berks tailing Dazzler." 

She’s barely finished her sentence that two familiar aircrafts flash passed them at such high speed, Harry has to crane his neck backwards to watch his friends in the same predicament he was mere seconds ago.

"I have to cover them." His instinct takes over.

"Fly your needles Harry, it’s too late for them." Aella objects to it straight away. Her mind is unbiased, she knows going for them would be pointless.

"Like hell I’m gonna sit tight, they need cover." Harry’s voice is categoric like he couldn’t ever fathom a world where he would leave his friends stranded for the sake of a mission.

"They already lost, Berks’ gonna turn for us now."

"You don’t know that." He replies adamantly despite her warning.

"Except I do. Daz was loosing speed, it’s over for them." Now she’s the one trying to stifle her frustration with all her might. She just wishes he would listen, but instead they’re doing yet another 180 to follow Dazzler’s trail to the rescue. She has no choice but to adapt and keep calling the positions.

"Contact ahead, four hundred, coming down. He’s gonna turn."

"Not if I nail ‘im first." If she weren’t so bitter about being ignored, she might find his determination admirable. Admittedly she can’t deny Harry is an amazing pilot, as are proof his excellent accuracy in space and timing as well as the ease with which he performs each maneuver. But alas, the git won’t take her words for it, no matter how knowledgable she is. Talk about eyes rolling…

Meanwhile, Harry is desperately trying to aim for the TomCat launched in his direction, but his opponent is using the same tricks he used against Rogers.

"Shit, ’s not stable enough to fire." Aella can’t believe he has to audacity to groan about it to her. DIdn’t she warn him?

Any shot is missed as the two aircrafts cross trajectories, nearly grazing each other

"Don’t lag, he’s gonna come around high at your five." Instead of commenting on his failed attempt, she communicates her best educated guess.

"How’dya figure?"

"Cause he was lagging too." Her retorts are getting sharper and colder as her annoyance grows the more he questions her. Her eyes take a rest from the screens on her panel to lay on the Californian landscape flowing passed them. They’ve wandered quite the distance away from the base, the relatively greener scenery of the seafront giving way to a craggy turf redder and drier by the meter.

"Fuck." Harry suddenly swears, the quality of his voice could rival the roughness of the ground Aella was just observing, and she’s effectively brought back into focus.

"Damn it, I told you!" She indulges with an expletive of her own once she spots the fast-approaching signal of Berks’ unit on her AMDR (Air and Missile Defense Radar).

"The fucker got in my blind spot, I’m doin’ my best here." Harry is quick to defend himself but the damage is done: they’re being chased down once again.

Aella thinks she’s starting to reach her disgruntlement threshold. The fact Harry isn’t much receptive to her ideas doesn’t alleviate her growing frustration at her lack of control over the damn carrier. "Well, step up before we get wiped." She spits.

"I swear to God Aella, now’s really not the time"

"If you just listened to me for- Watch out! At your six, closing fast!" She desperately wants to tell him off. Wishes she could go on a rant about how much of a dismissing jerk is being, but her duties reins her in when a loud signal starts beeping frantically on her board. Berks is locked at their six, a press of a finger away from shooting them.

"I hear that" Harry grunts as he gives a sharp jerk at the control stick in order to dodge Berks’ line of fire. He keeps jinxing the aircraft in all axis but Berks follows suit and matches all his moves.

"He’s too fast, I can’t get out of his fire range." Harry’s heartbeat skyrockets as the situation becomes more dire by the second. He doesn’t know how long he can maintain the zig-zagging going, for the sake of both his energy and the carrier’s. Abrupt moves are what’s currently keeping them safe but these are sadly the greediest in kerosene.

Then all hell breaks loose when Aella is hit by one of her craziest ideas.

"Try a complete thrust reversal of the turbofan engines."

"‘ the fuck?! Are you nuts?! It’ll send us spiraling." 

Harry’s livid. He knew it. He fucking knew she was impulsive and way too reckless on the edges. She held too much fire in her hands for him to put his trust in them like he wanted to.

"Precisely." His harsh reaction doesn’t deter her confidence. "If you’re out of control, he can’t anticipate your moves, can he?"  

"Are you even listening to yourself? That’s a stupid idea if I ever heard one."

"It’s not. You just have to switch back off the burners for a sec and you’ll get the control back."

"And what if I don’t?" She knows her calculations are foolproof but Harry won’t have any of it. He can’t think past the boldness and near-arrogance of it all.

"You will, just trust me." Once again, the words leave a bitter taste in her mouth, even more so because she knows he won’t likely follow through with it.

"That’s suicide mission Aella. I’m not doing it, that’s final." The last two words are categorical, a way for him to officially close the conversation.

"Damn it!"

The theory of it was beautiful really, but Harry thinks in practical and surefire moves he knows won’t send him six feet under before his time. Aella, on the other hand, has always relied on her infallible knowledge of astrophysics to enhance her flying experience. She’s followed the same motto ever since she stumbled across a quote that inspired her beyond grasp. It goes something like this: "aviation records don’t fall until someone is willing to mortgage the present for the future." And while she would never even entertain the idea of a reckless and immature move, her self-taught philosophy gave her access to a whole world of potential tricks most pilot couldn’t even conceptualize.

Aella is in the middle of regulating her harsh breathing when she starts noticing the spinning arrow on her altimeter. Her head swiftly tilts to the side to get a brief snapshot of the crimson soil of San Diego’s wasteland. They must be pretty far in the land if the upcoming sierra of rocky mounts is anything to go by. That’s not what is retaining Aella’s attention though. No, she’s more puzzled by the lack of space between her and the ground, the carrier grazing over pebbly elevations and lorn cactuses.

"Flathatting? That’s your idea? Christ Harry, the trees won’t save your ass." She figures if he doesn’t bother being civil then she could drop her filter too.

"Leave it Aella. Just do your job."

"I’m trying!" She fires back.

"Just trust me on this."

Blank.

"Fuck you Styles, that’s a two-way street." She’s actually fuming. He had the balls to call her out on trust when he hasn’t been returning her the same courtesy. If she had the time to worry further about it now, Aella would be questioning if coming to Top Gun and partnering with Harry was really a life-changing opportunity. So far, she’s had very few upgrades from the grim world she’s always been privy too.

"There’s a split trail 3 miles ahead on the left." She was under the impression they’d stop talking by tacit consent but the rasp of Harry’s voice through her headphones is no mirage. "I can lose him there. Can you read the positions please?"

She’s tempted to give him the silent treatment but the fervid pilot in her wouldn’t let her jeopardize a mission on such petty grounds. At least he was polite about his request this time. "He’s closing on 300 hundred, nose up. Going by 800 knots."

"Roger" Probably the closest thing to a thank you she’ll get from him.

They’re currently speeding through a gorge, tall cliffs of maroon stone fencing them on either side. Aella starts to question Harry’s move as it restrains their room for maneuver but then he makes an extremely obtuse left turn and she gets it. The intimidating mount on their left actually split into two narrow canyons. At the speed they were going, one is most likely to take the second channel whose angle isn’t as sharp as the one Harry chose. Only someone with previous knowledge of the surroundings would know how to successfully make that turn. It’s then Aella realizes Harry has more insight on the environs than he lets on, and his trick proves to be conclusive as Berks falls into the trap and enters the other passage.  

"He’s out."Aella simply confirms, before Harry veers upwards and back towards the base.

"Hunky-Dory." He utters in that same whispered manner he used before their take-off. "Now let’s bug the fuck outta here"

The moment she has her two feet on the tarmac, Aella is scurrying over to a furious-looking Harry. 

Nostrils flaring, daggers in the eyes, they’re both squaring their shoulders once nose to nose, or rather nose to collarbones. She doesn’t give him the time to even part his lips before she’s jabbing her pointer finger at his taunt chest.

"You prick! I got better things to do than to fill some empty space at the back of your stupid plane. If you don’t want my insight you can shove it where the sun doesn’t shine."

"Insight? You call that insight?!" He starts laughing jeeringly. "’s fuckin’ madness is what it was. I can’t believe I passed the mission with someone like you babbling all that nonsense!" Harry doesn’t even care to temper his disdain anymore. He’s seen enough to make up his mind about her. He doesn’t like her. Doesn’t want to find out about the person inside because he doesn’t like the pilot that she is. It reminds him to much of futile losses and irreparable hurt.

"Someone like me?" Aella’s face turns sour and if it didn’t make her look so sentimental, her eyes would be hosting a few tears. She really thought he wasn’t like those sexist jerks back home. Maybe not the warmest but at least respectful of her talent enough to appreciate her place in the Navy. Now she hates herself for entertaining the fantasy of ever having an ally flying by her side. "You’re an asshole Styles, and certainly no better than Rex." Then before he can reply she storms off, too angered not to lose her wits. 

And really, her last words don’t sit well with Harry, because he knows she’s not referring to the jerk’s flying skills.

[loyalflutist]

Fodlan Holy Grail War (Chapter 1)

Characters present: Edelgard, Dimitri, Claude, Hubert, Ferdinand, Petra, Dorothea, Bernadetta, Caspar, Linhardt, Ingrid, Felix, Sylvain, Dedue, Mercedes, Annette, Ashe, Leonie, Lorenz, Lysithea, Raphael, Ignatz, Hilda, Marianne, Rhea, Flayn, Seteth, Catherine, Hanneman, Manuela, Byleth Pairings: Felix x Annette, slight Hilda x Marianne, very slight Edelgard x f!Byleth (Edeleth)

A/N: So... this is a lengthy chapter... and I didn’t expect to become lengthy. Most of my old chapters in my old series range between 3k - 5k maximum. This? It was 6.8k+. It burnt me out, lol. However, I had fun sticking as many characters as I possibly can for the first chapter! Hope you all enjoy this. :) I had fun writing it. 

Previous Chapter: Prologue Next Chapter: Chapter 1

----

“I hope my kid gets in.”

“He’s a commoner. You know they only enlist the richest of the rich.”

“Are you sure about that? There are some students who aren’t from nobility.”

“Yeah, but they have to have a Crest.”

“That’s wrong.”

“No, you’re wrong. They need to have the Crest.”

“My daughter will find a worthy partner!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Why not just marry her off to some rich noble?”

“My grandchildren’s future would be secured if they get in.”

“I can finally find a worthy opponent.”

“I’ll never get in…”

“Cheers!”

Commoners and nobilities mingled and exchanged powerful wishes and lamentations unto each other. Whether they spoke to those that wear their aromatic perfumes in large dosage or to those that wore nothing more than tattered rags, they chirped and frolicked like birds. It was as if a festival bloomed in all three nations simultaneously. Celebrations and haughty statements were tossed around like playthings. Anxiety and tears shed from the inevitable truths. Anticipations gnawed at their mangled souls.

Everyone knew what this month entails. Every five years, on the Guardian Moon (January), a letter from the archbishop would be sent to prospective students throughout the continent. Wings fluttered about over the population. Bells chimed in the background to signal the start of sunset. Stray feathers lazily descended upon the land from the orange sky. Children would squeal and leap, their hands outstretched to catch the pure object, the adults staring intently at the flock like predators. Many elders sunk to their knees, their clasped hands violently trembled, prayers muttered with incredible speed.

All for an invitation to Garreg Mach Monastery.

Its name easily rolls off from one’s tongue. Not more than 50 years had passed when the holy institution was instated as an academy for the continent, yet it managed to pridefully puff its chest. It is a prestigious academy so many yearned to attend. Only the best of the best was considered. After all, the monastery welcomed its gifted students with open arms for opportunities they would never get anywhere else. Future leaders and heroic warriors were products of the school’s program. Not a single student dropped out of each academic term. Everything must glisten in gold. Accepting mediocrity would sully their pristine image.

The Adrestian Empire, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and the Leicester Alliance were invited to send over their best civilians. Letters were mailed out by white owls to potential candidates; details about the invitations and academic programs sunk its sweet tooth into their recipients.

“Looks like things are about to get serious,” the brown-haired grinned, his scroll crinkled in his grip. He glanced at the wide-eyed bird. Still smiling, he slid over to his right, his hand outstretched to the thin utensil. “It doesn’t hurt to spend five years in training.”

It was as if he had outlined his course of action down cold. Hesitation was never his middle name, anyway. Past the basked warmth of his private quarters, into the corridor, Hilda peered from the corner like a Peeping Tom. Hark, she was not the only person guilty! Various members arched their neck, their head, their ears craving for delicious news.

Claude von Riegan snagged a nearby feathered pen on his desk. The young lad dipped its tip into an inkpot and fluidly circled his response on the smoothed letter. His wrist haphazardly flicked within seconds for a signature.

Submission of his response granted him the role of House Leader for the Golden Deer House from the Leicester Alliance. Hilda, Raphael, Ignatz, Marianne, Lysithea, Leonie, and Lorenz were chosen by the Church of Seiros to follow him that fateful day.

“My Lord, will you be going?”

Another young male held the letter. He shifted the crinkled paper, his bright hues aimed at his closest friend. Dedue’s inquiry caused a soft hum to sing from the blonde. At that same moment, the owl tilted its head, a soft coo harmonic.

“I will,” he twirled the feathered pen, his lips firmed, and his voice solemn. “If this will let me redeem the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus to its former glory, then I will attend.”

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd pressed his utensil unto the thick parchment. There was a circular motion of his wrist, and, shortly afterward, zig-zagged it for a signature.

Submission of his response granted him the role of House Leader for the Blue Lions House from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Felix, Sylvain, Ingrid, Ashe, Dedue, Mercedes, and Annette were chosen by the Church of Seiros to follow him that fateful day.

“Everything is falling in place,” the white-haired grimaced, her fingertips unsteadily smoothing amongst the moist palms. “I must accept the invitation.”

“Are you certain, Lady Edelgard?”

Hubert stood in her shadows. No— he is her shadow. His second posture flickered in time with the lonesome candle. She completely unfolded the scroll to the owl’s supervision. The feathered ally blinked once. She nodded. Then, the young gentleman rested a hand on his chest, the darkness discoloring the smooth beauty of his porcelain pale skin. He bowed deeper than any loyal retainer would to their lord.

Edelgard von Hresvelg stroked the application with grace and delicacy. Weaves danced upon the page in a singular motion of her wrist.

Submission of her response granted her the role of House Leader for the Black Eagles House from the Adrestian Empire. Dorothea, Petra, Hubert, Ferdinand, Caspar, Linhardt, and Bernadette were chosen by the Church of Seiros to follow her that fateful day.

Everything has been set into stone. Owls hooted their final call to the upcoming students, their wings flapped in tempo. Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude watched from high above, their pupils directed at the glistening land. The white bird was soon nothing more than a dot in the vast, orange sky. They shifted the weight on their feet, their grip tightening on the opened window's edge, their eyelids fluttered from the pleasant breeze flowing parts of their locks, all conducted simultaneously in a symphony. Now, the students must wait for the Great Tree Moon (April).

-----

Harpstring Moon (May). It has been one month since their arrival; one month at the famous Garreg Mach Monastery. Lengthy orientations and settlement were slowing to a standstill. Booming chatters and flurried excitement comfortably dipped into dignified and refined tranquility. Almost everyone had familiarized themselves with their surroundings and colleagues. Those that did not would quickly catch up.

Lady Rhea, standing in her bedroom, slowly exhaled. Birds chirped in volumes that penetrated the glassed barrier, their small bodies soaring to everlasting freedom. Tis’ the season for Spring to reach the finishing line. Their eventual retirement would pave way for the new, blistering season. She blinked. Both of her hands were raised, fingers intertwined, palms impressed, and head lowered; her silent prayers ushered into nothingness.

“Lady Rhea, how are you faring?”

Seteth stood at the doorway. Rigidity colored his posture, his bright hues gently lay to rest upon the holy maiden’s figure, to which it was drummed with the afternoon heat. She remained still and unmoving from her prayer. The same could not be said about her thin lips, its movement as casual as it could get.

“You need not worry about me, Seteth, but I am well.”

“I see.”

“How are the students?”

The songs from those birds increased in frequency. Melodies tinkered to their eardrums, their notes bouncing about within their heart, their natural passion embracing their souls. Seteth smiled in response.

“Noisy as ever.”

He could only use euphemism to describe it all.

The first month was beyond hectic. “Noisy” hardly captured the real image. Light tremors reverberated throughout the monastery. Overwhelming energy eradicated the lonesome premise once home to mere foot soldiers and bodyguards. Everyone had their eyes on each other. Crow’s feet were an epidemic as they exchanged formal greetings; some informal, such as Mercedes and Annette, where friendly hugs and kisses were given and received. An aromatic smoke wafted from the large cafeteria, sucking the population’s majority into its already-crowded site, the hopes of alleviating the chaos from outside.

“H-Hey! Linhardt, why aren’t you letting me grab thirds?!” Caspar’s reach trembled, his sight glued to the meaty target. “I’m really hungry!”

“Did you forget that there are other students in line after you?” Linhardt shook his head. “We need to leave some for them.”

“It’s a first-come, first-serve basis.”

“No, it’s not.”

“I’m going to starve!”

“You will not.”

“Yes, I will!”

“I suggest you change your eating habits then. It won’t hurt missing one drumstick from your diet.”

“LINHARDT!”

It is unfortunate traffic began to jam from the inside, its chaotic nature having shifted to a new location.

“Oi, are you both done yet?”

Felix felt his vein bulge from his head, his piercing eyes sparing no one. His metallic tray gloried its empty content before the bickering duo. Their shoulders slumped as their jaws clamped. Caspar would normally argue. It was his nature to counter a sharp response with another sharp response, albeit slightly weaker. Yet his blood stiffened at the sight. Linhardt shook his head again.

“Oh dear… It’s time we find a seat.”

An apology was delivered swiftly to his doorstep and they promptly removed themselves from the counter. The young male rubbed a couple of fingers against his temple, a huff escaping.

“Thank God they’re gone. They’re so annoying.”

“Felix, you shouldn’t say that!” Annette popped her head in with a bow. She gazed upon the sword-wielder with puffed cheeks. “Besides, they’re just getting food.”

“They were holding up the line, Ann.”

“You could’ve asked them politely.”

“Well, it’s too late for that now.”

“I think you should change your scary expression.”

“Oh, really?”

“I admit, it’s not as scary as Dimitri, but you should really smile more often.”

He scoffed. Felix plopped a chunk of sliced steak onto his newly placed plate riddled with greeneries and bread. His eyes slanted, turned towards Annette, and proceeded to drop a large quantity of meat onto her plate, despite her earlier objections.

“I would never be like the Boar Prince.”

“If you say so. I still think you should smile more in public.”

“…”

“Felix?”

“Annette,” the two have stepped away from the elongated counter, swooped down to press his lips upon her cheek. It left a tingly aftermath on Annette’s rosy cheeks, her feet tangled from an accidental crooked misstep. Felix freed one hand and intercepted her fall. Their faces were in short proximity, their breaths puffed amongst each other’s skin. Flames sharply ignited their skin with a roar as he whispered, “I want to shower you and only you with my smiles.”

“F-Felix…”

“Wow~ Take it to the bedroom, you two.”

Felix and Annette snapped their heads up. Seated from one of the table’s end, Leonie, Hilda, Marianne, and Ashe watched the two interact. Hilda smirked, her tongue holding no restraint. Besides her, the weary blue-haired student anxiously tugged on the pink-haired’s sleeve. Inaudible utters tumbled out of her parted lips, her pleas unheard by the female. As for Ashe and Leonie, they did their best to eat in silence, yet their ears perked for worthwhile events. Felix narrowed his eyes.

“You got a lot of nerve saying that to us, Hilda.”

“Felix—”

“Relax, Ann, I’m not going to hurt her.”

He approached the sitting Golden Deer. Though his hands were occupied, his mouth was not, and he happily made use of it. Verbiage intent on reprimanding filled the silent void Hilda purposely created. She plopped her chin on the palm of her hand, unblinking, and possibly bored out of her mind. Hilda did not bother to stifle her yawn either, letting it loose for the whole world to witness. Marianne felt parts of her soul fly out of her body, and dread shadowed over her eyes.

“Hilda, please apologize to him…” Marianne pleaded, her tugs becoming more apparent. “We… don’t want to cause trouble again…”

“Again…?” Annette raised a brow. “It’s only the first day we’ve been here.”

“Um… well… We accidentally broke a merchant’s axe…”

“How so?”

“Hil— I…. crashed into it—”

“Marianne! It was me, silly!” Hilda had done a complete 180 and swerved her attention to the shorter female. The energy that lay dormant bubbled to the surface, her arms pulling her friend into a tight embrace. Marianne felt her strength wither as her eyes widened. The sensation of her weight was still in her arms as Hilda glanced over at Annette. “It was me. I broke it. Not her.”

“…really?”

“Yes! I actually broke it with my bare hand!”

“Are you sure you aren’t covering up for her—”

“I. Did. It.”

“Hey! Why are you ignoring me!?”

“Pipe down, Felix,” Leonie waved her fork. “I’m trying to eat here!”

“Oi, Hilda started it!”

“And you continued!”

“Why are people so— You know what? Nevermind.”

“Hah? Could you elaborate on your unfinished statement?”

“I think this conversation is over, comrade.”

“Fine!”

Felix and Leonie fumed. Imaginary puffs of air emanated the dramatists. Soap opera would want to take note of their interactions for the next spectacular feature. Ashe began to laugh after settling the metallic mug onto the table.

“It sure is lively.”

“Lively? I think it’s outright noisy.”

The orange-haired promptly slugged his shoulder. Ashe ran out of language, incoherent sound effects elicited, and his hand furiously rubbing the affected area. His endurance is above average. He had an innate ability to run longer, burn faster, and bear far more than an ordinary boy similar in age and stature. If given the chance, his splendors would be renowned at the monastery. Yet he underestimated the power of a person called “Leonie.”

“Ow… You don’t hold your punches back, do you?”

“Why should I?”

“…”

Women are scary! Leonie especially! Such prowess that bundled and coiled in the young girl… How is that possible!? Sweat flew from his head dramatically as Leonie jabbed her fork into another piece of protein, its squelch muted from the rowdy setting. Felix fingers ran through his black hair, Annette appearing back by his side and pulling on his arm.

Ignatz and Raphael, who sat on the opposite end, pinned their gaze upon the small group. Flailing of arms, subjectless exclamations, and unnecessary lamentations painted the group as a form of entertainment.

“Ignatz, you think they’ll ever stop?”

“I don’t think so…”

“Why can’t they take it out on the training ground? I heard it’s good for sparring.”

The young boy shrugged his shoulders. As if on cue, the level of noise had risen. Vocals were lost amidst the background, his lips moving without sound.

“— - –—"

It went on for a couple of seconds, hinting of its lengthy content. Raphael was unable to grasp any of them; not a single peep was grasped and stuffed into his eardrums. He leaned forward, his muscular chest pressed upon the extended furniture, and tried to hear his artsy friend.

“——-—"

Raphael frowned. Under normal circumstances, one would speak up. This was not the case for the mighty brawn.

In contrast to their curiosity, Mercedes and Ferdinand could not bear to look. The mantle of responsible dependency rest over the duo’s shoulders.

“This is turning out to be a lively first day,” Mercedes giggled, her spoon scooping bits of the honeyed porridge. She tucked a stray strand behind her ear, her long eyelashes fluttering. “I hope it will stay this way for a long time.”

“It will happen if you strongly believe in it,” Ferdinand motioned.

His absurd confidence resonated in her heart, the healer shooting a glance. An amused hum stroked his taste buds once he took another bite from the salad bowl, oblivious to the probing gaze. She tilted her head. There had to be discrepancies with his proclamations and reality. Mercedes is a devout believer for religion and charity, but even she knows about the harsh conditions real-life posed.

“How could you be so sure?”

“Because I am Ferdinand von Aegir.”

“…oh! I… see.”

Did she expect something deeper from him?

“…”

He beamed. She reciprocated with a beam of her own. Maybe she was asking too much from him.

Nearby the four eaters, a black shadow zipped by. None of them had sensed the abnormality. Another shadow scurried after the first foreigner. That was when their sight and auditory senses kicked in.

“Was that Sylvain?” Raphael blinked. “What’s he doing?”

“I’m not too sure… It’s probably not something good, knowing him.”

“You think so too, Ferdinand?”

“I can attest to that, fufu~”

A shudder ran down Ignatz’s spine. “Y-You’re kind of scaring me, Mercedes…”

“PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Students standing and nestled near one of the four doorways nearly went into cardiac arrest, their hands immediately resting over the wildly thumping organ. Glares and bewilderment shot at the fatigued girl. Bernadetta had burst from the cafeteria. Under normal circumstances, she would cower from their dagger-like stares. However, their eyes were the least of her problems…

“W-Where… Where can I go?!”

She had to run. She had to hide. She had to disappear.

Hot behind her trail was Sylvain. The young noble tossed his hand out to the doorway’s border. He grunted, his firm fingers curled inward, and swung his body out into the open with a sharp turn.

“Bernadetta!” he hollered. “Come back here, will you!?”

The fluttering of loose-leaf papers threatened to fly away like a bird from his grip, an entrapped victim desiring for release. Sylvain’s fast feet neared the writer, but he was careless. Smooth as the road may be, the pathways were littered with specks of debris, with some large enough to warrant a red flag.

“WHOA!”

He stumbled forward. Life danced before his eyes, Sylvain’s arms frantically mimicking wings, his frail balance with gravity fractured. Sweat poured from his pores and his breath hitched. Multiple half-steps pitter and pattered in front of one another while incoherent outcries sputtered. By the time he reconnected with the earth by kissing its pavement, the papers had all flown away to its yearnful freedom.

Bells chimed throughout the academic ground as tens of scribbled sheets scattered the clear blue sky. Day owls hooted, its wide eyes estimating the distance of its haphazard counterpart during its flight. Five of the wonderful creatures flapped and urged forward into the open plane.

High above the training ground, they traveled with sporadic battle shouts emitted from Ingrid and Petra. Two partners clunk and smacked their wooden sword.

“Haaaaah—!”

Petra swung the blunt end down. Ingrid immediately adjusted her posture, her knees bent, and her right foot slid backward. The knight raised her weapon vertically.

‘ CLUNK! ‘

Comma sweats crawled down to her chin as Ingrid felt her wrist creak. Petra’s feet returned back to earth, but not without applying an extra layer of pressure onto her opponent’s wooden sword, her arms shoved forward with a grunt. Ingrid nearly bit her lower lip, a tiny lump traveling down her throat. The Brigid princess is strong.

“Take this!”

The knight instantly reduced her strength. Petra’s figure lurched forward from the unexpected loss of equilibrium, her stability with gravity disrupted. Ingrid sidestepped to provide room for her fall. She elegantly twirled the training wood at hand and thrust it outward to “stab” Petra.

“Oh my gosh…” Dorothea watched from the distant, her hand covering her mouth. Petra had twisted her body enough during the collapse to avoid the assault. The songstress clutched her chest, small clumps of her brown hair clung to her moist forehead. “This is so stressful to watch.”

The two wonderful ladies sparred to test their might and the two had asked Dorothea to be the judge. But… who should she cheer for? Petra came from her house, but Ingrid was always there for her since the day they stepped foot. It didn’t help that they were both a beauty. Luscious hair, bountiful maturity, toned figures, delicate fleeting touches— Wait, why was she thinking about that?! She underwent her own mighty battle as the clunking of the wooden blades continuously overlapped.

Surprisingly, not one page had descended upon the monastery’s ground. The owls gave another hoot. High above the marketplace, they traveled and Lysithea, Lorenz, Hubert, and Dedue stood amongst the growing crowd.

“Ugh, I think that’s unfashionable,” Lorenz shook his head, his hand resting on his forehead. “I would expect better from you.”

“That’s rude to say that to them!” Lysithea elbowed the taller male. She furrowed her brows. “You know they’ve traveled far out here to sell their goods. Give them a break.”

“Unfortunately, if they were passionate, their products wouldn’t like this.”

“Lorenz!”

“It belongs in the U-category for ugliness.”

Unfortunately for the two, the merchant they were squabbling in front of began to see red. His shaky hands extended outward to the broom. The still shadow of fury washed over his eyes, his wooden stick slapped the stall’s pole. Both visitors felt beads of sweat fly out of their heads at the newfound sight. Death rarely crossed their minds, but today was one of them.

“It was nice visiting your shop, mister!”

Lorenz was about to follow the praising Lysithea when— oopsie! He was shoved towards the furious owner! A shriek slipped out after a narrow escape from certain doom, the stick walloped the ground mere centimeters from bodily contact.

“LYSITHEA!”

Hubert and Dedue glanced over to the rowdy Golden Deer.

“My, how unpleasant,” Hubert grumbled. He snapped shut one of the two spellbooks in his hands. “If Lady Edelgard would be disturbed by these silly activities, I would have to do something about it.”

“I object,” Dedue crossed his arms. “I understand where you are coming from, but that is not the correct way to serve your lord.”

“Excuse me, did I ask for your opinion.”

“No, but it is something I had to say.”

Hubert narrowed his eyes. “I think it would be wise for you to keep your opinion to yourself, Dedue.”

“…”

Dedue resisted the temptation to sigh. Out of all the students he had met, he knew they would have a rickety relationship. Perhaps they will never see eye-to-eye, and perhaps that will never happen. Nonetheless, their upmost loyalty to their lord was commendable. Hubert respected Dedue for serving Dimitri, and Dedue respected Hubert for serving Edelgard.

Past the students, more students arrived from all three nations like little ants through the gate. The gatekeeper’s cheerful “Welcome!” brightened their spirit for their new life. They were going to spend the next five years working, challenging, learning, loving, and forging bonds. It was an opportunity not many were granted.

They came in all different sizes and shapes. Some were from nobility. They were given special treatment by the Church, their accommodations sate the high-leveled expectations for their living conditions. Many possess some form of Crest, whether it be minor or major. Some were commoners. They were given resources by the Church, their accommodations sate their basic necessities for their living conditions. Very few possess any form of Crest.

House leaders were handpicked and determined by the archbishop, Lady Rhea, since day one. Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, and Claude von Riegan would act as this academic term’s house leaders.

Edelgard von Hresvelg would become house leader for the Black Eagles.

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd would become house leader for the Blue Lions.

Claude von Riegan would become house leader for the Golden Deer.

“And so… we meet again, Dimitri,” Edelgard lowered her teacup. She sat opposite of the blonde, her lilac hues keeping tabs on his every action. “Though I cannot say I didn’t expect this.”

“I agree,” Dimitri chuckled. “Since you did not return to my kingdom, I predicted this might happen. You’ve changed though…”

“In what way?”

“Your hair—”

“That might be for another time.”

The abrupt cut off slashed hard. Dimitri blinked a couple of times in silence, his teacup returned to the clothed mat. Loveliest of all trees ruffled from overhead as a breeze smoothed their exposed skin. He lowered his eyes, a heavy weight nestled between his shoulder blades.

“Perhaps another time.”

Though silence should have followed, Claude intertwined his fingers, chin rested on them, elbows on the table, and tilted his head.

“What shouldn’t be saved for another time is how you both know each other. Spill me the tea.”

“I don’t know, Claude,” Dimitri bitterly smiled. “It’s a long story.”

“I agree. It might sour our teatime session too.”

“Aw, you’re both no fun,” the young man smirked. “Why not tell me? I promise to tell you something in exchange.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know… Maybe about my past too.”

“Hoh… That’s quite a trade.”

“Trust me. Here, I’ll give you a little snippet, free of charge,” Claude straightened his posture and coughed into his fist. “Not too long ago, I bumped into two fabulous people. They were of nobility, yet they seem to know each other.”

“Claude…”

“One was a cute little princess, and one was a grumpy looking prince.”

“Claude.”

“And I hope we could become good friends.”

“CLAUDE.”

Edelgard and Dimitri overlapped, their cheeks flushed. Claude placed his hands behind his head and winked.

“It’s a good story, don’t you think?”

-----

Now, a month scampered forward, to where Seteth, Rhea, Flayn, and Catherine stood inside of the holy church ground. Seteth was bent down, his fingers brushing black ink on the pristine surface, faint squeaks occasionally cracking the still atmosphere. Flayn bent forward in a similar fashion, hands behind her back, and observing the process. Those paired bright hues, accompanied by a smile, flickered between her older brother and the ritual drawings.

“I’m excited to see who the new professors and staff are.”

Garreg Mach Monastery had a tradition every five years: the Garreg Summoning Ritual. Led by the Church of Seiros and its headmaster, Lady Rhea, this was one of the many options to tackle economical strategies. Funds from the Church were finite; there was only so much their nails could scrape in from donations. So they turned their heads towards a new shining beacon.

Three students from nobility, who would naturally become house leaders, were invited to complete the mandatory summoning ritual. Being chosen as house leaders were not an easy feat. The students had to derive from a long legacy of lineage fit to rise to the role. A large quantity of magical energy, called mana, was required to fulfill their position. This was so they can summon their professors.

Unlike other academic institutions, Rhea expressed this unique tradition for over 50 years. The act of calling forth their instructor would help bolster the students’ performances with a teacher fit for their personalities, attitudes, and beliefs. It was the perfect substitution for conducting costly background checks and hiring of adjuncts and tenures.

“To be honest, Flayn, I’m a little worried who they will be. I still cannot get over the fact one of the students summoned a thief!”

“He was stealing a lot of our supplies, wasn’t he?”

“Unfortunately.”

“If I hadn’t caught him, the church would have been in a pinch.”

Seteth paused. He glanced up from the fresh circle, his chuckle apparent. Catherine, on the sideline, cracked her knuckles.

“I would’ve pummeled him if it weren’t for Flayn.” No moral restraint… a rather prominent feature in very few warriors like her. “The fact that he would take Lady Rhea’s belongings deserved more than a simple execution.”

So long as it was in the name of Lady Rhea, she would chop up her limbs and offer it up to the holy maiden.

“I am certain that would not happen again.” Rhea stepped forward once Seteth rose from his crouch. “I have prayed to the Goddess for good fortune. I can sense that this year will be one that will forever be remembered.”

Catherine’s knuckles suddenly whitened, her grip tightening on the relic’s handle, and jawlines outlined from the smell of fresh meat purifying the distilled air. The double doors creaked. Sharp eyes penetrated the sturdy chests of the incoming house leaders. Claude and Dimitri each pushed one half of the majestic, tall barrier, Edelgard walking between the tall boys. It was picturesque.

Seteth and Flayn returned to Rhea’s side as the archbishop silently motioned her hand down to Catherine. A grunt as she eased her hold, but not without a displeased exhale. The top-ranking Knight served under the name of Seiros stepped back. Her eyes had not left the three students, however.

Archbishop bowed.

“Greetings, House Leaders. I hope you have familiarized yourself with the Officers Academy.”

“I think we’ve had plenty to check around,” Claude said. “One month is enough to make us experts for any visitors.”

His jokes were not received— Rather, Rhea rolled over and onward from his witty remark. She slowly looked at the marked ground.

“I have also requested that you participate in the Garreg Summoning Ritual. You all were required to bring three items that you wish to use for the tradition.”

Then, she returned her gaze to the trio.

“You will be their Master and they will be your Servant. But you will refer to them as your Professor.” Her eyes were crinkled. “Are you prepared?”

Dimitri, Claude, and Edelgard nodded. Their silence following afterward notion the archbishop to beckon them forth.

“Best wishes, my children. May the Goddess watch over you.”

One at a time, they stood in front of the archaic circle, their hands and pockets filled. Compatibility may play a heavy influence on their soulful incantations, but the students’ chosen objects held some degree of control over who their professor would be. They exchanged glances. The question now lies if Lady Luck would bestow her magic for them.

The first to stand is Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. He pieced the three chosen objects with great care upon the circular design. A monocle, a parchment on tactics, and blood from a dying boar preyed the markings. His vial had tipped upside down after a complete stride. Dimitri stuffed the stained glass into his pocket, the metallic iron smeared his and his friends’ olfactory. The Prince of Faerghus raised his hand.

Stanza after stanza riddled the tense environment. Sky blue light illuminated beneath his feet, a gust of wind swirled around the noble, his navy cape flapping in the air. Searing heat crackled into the back of his hand, his brows scrunched, and his stifled cries noticeable. Dimitri’s chants maintain stability. There would be no interruption that would snaffle his delivery.

Bright light blinded everyone on the premise. Edelgard and Claude were forced to shield with their arms, their eyelids squeezed shut for good measures. Catherine, Seteth, and Flayn grimaced from it. Rhea calmly stood out with her holy demeanor. The entire church disappeared for a few seconds from their sight, the sky blue blanketed their vision.

Fine mist surrounded a tall man. The summoned Servant stroke his gray beard, his monocle glistening in-sync with the sunrays, and his thick coat covering all parts of his body, leaving very little room for skin exposure. He spotted the panting Dimitri, the mark of the command seal tattooed on his burning skin. Little attention was given to the others as the elder chuckled.

“So, it appears that I have been summoned by a young gentleman.” He bowed deeply. “I am Hanneman, Archer class.”

“An Archer, huh… You don’t look like one.”

“You think so?” Hanneman cupped his chin. “Then again, you speak of the truth. I am well-versed in the art of magic. As you can tell, I am nothing more than a scholar when I was alive.”

Dimitri nodded, his shaky hands coming to a standstill. It appears that the person he had summoned was not meant to be summoned into this class.

“Yikes… That’s one heck of an L you’re gonna have to take,” Claude shook his head. This bemused the new professor. Yet Dimitri responded in his place.

“I find possibilities where others see limitations, Claude. This is a gift from the Goddess.”

That earned Dimitri a whistle. The Golden Deer House Leader smiled—genuinely in fact—it stroked the blonde’s heart to a slight flutter!

“You might be right… this might be an impressive result in the end.”

Seteth proceeded to cleanse the circle in preparation for Claude as they continued their conversation. Edelgard, who had remained mute, stared down at the palms of her hands. They were violently trembling as if an earthquake descended. Was it from her nerves? She instinctively curled her fingers inward and jammed her nails. In the background, Dimitri pat Claude’s shoulder as he was next in line.

Claude von Riegan took out his belonging. A wooden flute, a package of herbal medicine, and an alcohol bottle. The first two objects held the least shock value compared to the third for both Dimitri and Edelgard. When they expressed wonderment, Claude responded with a playful tone, his hand cautiously spilling the alcoholic content.

“Random chance. I have a feeling this is going to go well.”

“I don’t think you should be horsing around with this…”

“Relax, Dimi, I got this.”

He mimicked his friend’s action after settling the empty container on the ground. Hand extended outward, his lips parted, and golden light circulated the ritual. The wind blew into their figures once again as his chants became louder. Compared to Dimitri, he was able to bear through the flaming sharpel from the forceful engraving of the command seal for the most part.

This time, the newcomer was a woman. Dressed to impress, her beauty radiating in conjunction with her angelic voice, the Servant boasts her skillsets to the witnesses.

“I am Manuela. Songstress, physician, Caster class, and available, I look forward to working with you, Claude.”

Boastful? Perhaps, but Claude sees the positive trait from it. Though some may think otherwise.

“How haughty.”

An unusual remark from Hanneman. Dimitri, Claude, and Edelgard diverted their attention to the older male, his features tinged with displeasure. Manuela felt a strong pulsation from the corner of her head. The Caster opened her mouth, paused, then clamped it close. She dryly swallowed and waved her hand.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, Hanneman. Wouldn’t want to look back in front of my new Master.”

Claude felt a nervous chortle erupt from his throat. His and Dimitri’s Servants are going to have a field day with each other… Their eyes shifted to the quiet female. Not a peep from the princess. Her nerves must have gotten the best of her, her figure stiff as a stick. They wonder… what could make her so nervous?

Their pondering continued as Seteth wiped and swept the remaining materials from the ritual. Rhea motioned once more for the final summoner. Edelgard inhaled deeply. She held it. Then, she exhaled.

Finally, it was Edelgard von Hresvelg’s turn. In her grasp were three items. Just like Dimitri and Claude, they were special in their own way. They picked it with careful consideration. For Edelgard, she had found these materials from the Red Canyon. Ferdinand and Hubert had accompanied her for the abrupt trip. Compared to Claude and Dimitri, she felt a strong, magnetic pull to the location. It was almost as if it were calling for her.

A rustic piece from a shattered sword, a torn patch from a dark overcoat, and… that was it.

“Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation Let my great Master Hresvelg be the ancestor”

Rhea widened her eyes when she spotted the white-haired unsheathing the dagger from behind.

“Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate.”

Its slithering blade shone as Edelgard brought it high above her head. Catherine reached for her sword, her wrist prepared.

“I hereby declare Your body shall serve under me.”

The tip moved in a curvature. A crimson line was left in its wake, the blood oozing out of her self-infliction.

“My fate shall be your sword.”

She tilted her hand despite the throbbing aches scratching underneath her cut.

“Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail If you will submit to this will and this reason… Then answer!”

Gentle vermillion light encapsulated everyone present. Its rays brightened with each drip of her blood, her offering sating the slumbering Servant. At that same moment, a fiery ignition dragged burning hot iron on the back of her hand. Edelgard bit back a whimper. She grabbed ahold of her extended wrist with pinched features.

“An oath shall be sworn here! I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven. I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell!”

A gust far more powerful than that from previous sessions threatened to fling the students away. Seteth and Catherine had embraced Flayn and Rhea respectively, their feet rooted to the vibrating floors. Dimitri and Claude struggled to keep afoot. Their narrowed eyes peered through the slits as Edelgard forced herself upright. The grip that kept her wrist in place squeezed until her blood circulation drastically slowed.

“From the Heaven, attended to by three great words of power Come forth from the ring of restraints, Protector of the Holy Balance!”

Just like Dimitri and Claude’s session, white light enveloped their five senses.

“…”

Smoke lingered in the air, but at the center of the summoning circle, no one had appeared. Everyone waited with bated breaths. Seconds transitioned into a minute. The silence was all that resulted. She glanced down at the back of her injured hand. The aching red mark resembling that of an unknown Crest seared into her skin. Yet this excruciating process yielded no Servant.

“…why?”

Edelgard sunk to her knees.

Had she failed? Was this all a fluke in the end? Edelgard groveled at the tainted ground, her magma-red blood engulfing the entirety of her wounded palm in its flames. The command seal was still present. What did she do wrong? Tears spurted from her lacrimal glands, those salty substances hurried to separate from her skin and onto the flat surface. Claude and Dimitri exchanged worrisome glances.

“Edelgard…”

“Princess…”

They approached the withered youngster. They stood nearby but found the inability to engage sympathetically. After all, their Servants lingered from behind. The boys were able to call forth their professor, and Edelgard was unable to. They would never be able to understand her anguish.

“This isn’t fair…” she hoarsely whispered. “Did I do… Is this karma?”

“Karma? Don’t be silly,” Dimitri shook his head. He kneeled to her level and eyed the female. He was not sure what she meant by karma, but it crushed his heart to see his childhood friend defeated. “Your Professor might come. You still have your command seal.”

“That means nothing if they don’t appear.”

“Is this thing rigged?” Claude’s attention diverted to the older adults. He motioned towards the weeping girl. “This isn’t supposed to mess up, right?”

Rhea shook her head. “This is the first that had happened before. All professors were able to be summoned the past nine times.”

“You didn’t have to include that last part, you know.”

“Hey, don’t speak to Lady Rhea like that, young man,” Catherine stepped forward and viciously pointed his finger. “Know your place.”

Claude huffed. He shrugged his shoulders and abandoned insanity. “I apologize. I’m a bit frustrated too for Edelgard—”

‘ BANG! ‘

It was immediately accompanied by a distant crackling of heavy logs tumbling on top of each other. Students and staff alike perked their ears. Claude and Dimitri immediately assisted in Edelgard’s recovery, their Servants swiftly turning to the source. Precautions were taken as their chosen Class weapons were pulled out. Catherine completely unsheathed her Thunderbrand, its electricity crackled and popped without restraint. Seteth shielded both Flayn and Rhea with his arms, his body ready to absorb any potential damages.

Once the dust had settled before them, they were greeted with a spectacular sight. The Goddess Seiros must have shone her lucky stars to the warrior. Stones and obliterated woods formed as a piece of disheveled furniture. Arms resting on the natural armrest, palm pressed on the Sword of Creator’s hilt, and cheek leaning on her elbowed hand, she slowly opened her eyes.

“…”

Could this be…? Edelgard’s jelly legs wobbled as she approached the arrogantly seated woman. The roles were reversed. Edelgard collapsed onto one knee, head raised to the female like a Servant as the Servant exerted regality like a Master. Navy hues dragged its gaze to the fallen. She examined the student with scrutiny.

“Your blood…” The newcomer had gotten up from her seat, kneeled, and instantly greeted the magus with a kiss on the gash. Normally, this would be viewed as romantic, but not a lick of emotion crossed. When she parted, sticky fluid clung to bits of her chin. “I’m bad at healing, but this is the least I could do.”

Perhaps this is part of an innate skill the Servant has. The shallow infliction had dissipated, leaving behind a bloody mess of leftover iron.

Then, she got up, sword still at hand. Edelgard watched in awe from below as the Servant quietly spoke,

“Byleth. Saber class. Tell me… are you my Master?"

[call-me-rei]

Chapter 33

“So gone to the point I can’t believe this was all from a kiss.”

---

I was on cloud nine for an entire week. My stressed out, anxious, overthinking brain was finally calmed and not making up different scenarios that would cause panic attacks. For the first time since we moved, I was truly happy.

And I had Vic Fuentes to thank.

As cheesy as it sounded, Vic was the reason I had a stupid smile on my face. After our talk the week before he’d made such an effort to be more open with me. We spent a couple nights texting about how we felt about each other. Some of those texts may have been suggestive, but we hadn’t gone further than texting.

We mostly texted about Vic coming out. He wanted to be able to call me his boyfriend eventually, but he knew he couldn’t do it if he was still in the closet. I told him he needed to take his time and only tell people he knew he could trust and rely on to keep it quiet until he was ready to tell everyone he needed to. I was glad he was talking to me about something so personal. I knew how hard it was to tell anyone that you weren’t who they thought you were, and I was happy to support him any way I could.

My stupid smile lasted through choir and afterwards when Mr. Urie let us out a few minutes early. I was glad to finally be able to text Vic back since second period. Using your phone during choir was frowned upon, not that it was very possible anyway. There were only chairs in that room so there was nowhere to hide anything.

I walked down the fine arts wing and into the main hallway. I decided against standing in front of Vic’s physics class for fear that I’d look too desperate. Instead I went to my locker and stood against the metal door. I had some time to kill before the bell, so I texted my group chat to let them know I was out of class and wanted to go off-campus for lunch.

It was the Friday before winter break, and we had all talked about doing something before we went our separate ways for Christmas and New Year’s. I figured that lunch off campus would be the perfect thing. What I didn’t account for was the fact that my friends were so indecisive and couldn’t agree on anything if you asked them to. If you told them where they were going, they wouldn’t complain, but give them the chance to choose and you’d be spammed with hundreds of argumentative messages, kind of like I was at that moment.

I chuckled to myself as I read the messages between Lynn, Tyler, Sav, and Tori. It was the epic argument of tacos or burgers. Sav and Tori wanted a vegan option, and since vegan burgers places were closer to the school than vegan tacos, they campaigned for that. Obviously Lynn and Tyler wanted tacos while I was there just enjoying the show.

YOU CAN’T JUST ASK THIS QUESTION THEN GO GHOST YOU COWARD! Lynn angrily texted at me when I stopped replying to their messages.

Lol I don’t care where we go. Just pick before lunch ends, I replied.

LUNCH HASN’T STARTED YET

I laughed to myself and switched messages to Vic. They would figure it out eventually, and as fun as it was to witness, I wanted to talk to the person who sent the butterflies in my stomach into flight. I sent him a text asking if he wanted to come to lunch with me. I even invited Mike, Jaime, and Tony in case he would feel out of place with my friends. I wasn’t sure what his response was though because someone caught my attention.

“Quinn!” I looked up from my phone and immediately rolled my eyes. Of course, when I thought I was having a good day I’d see him.

Jacob approached me, his footsteps sounding through the quiet hallway/ “And here I thought I’d have to wait until after school to get you alone,” he spoke as he walked up.

I had looked back down at my phone by the time he was standing in front of me. “What do you want?” I asked uninterested.

“To finish what we started last week.” I looked up at him as I put my phone back in my pocket. I didn’t intend on entertaining this jerk, but he for sure wanted to intimidate me. I just couldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“Oh yeah?” I pushed myself away from the locker and squared up to him. “I’d love to if it’ll shut you up.”

He smirked then snapped his fingers. Two of his friends seemed to appear out of nowhere. They stood in front of me, surrounding me with my locker behind me. I looked between all three of them as I sized up the newcomers. They were both as buff as Jacob was; they were probably also football players. They had broad shoulders and you could see their biceps flex as they cracked their knuckles.

“Isn’t it kinda sad that you come when he snaps? Like c’mon, be your own person.”

All three of them scowled, staring daggers at me. The one on my left ran his fist into the locker by my head. I couldn’t help but flinch.

“Oh man, this is gonna be great,” the other one of Jacob’s goons said. “Fuentes isn’t here to stop us so let’s have some fun.”

I gulped. I wouldn’t have been so afraid if I wasn’t in a cast and still had fresh stitches in my head. I didn’t want to die at school, but those guys looked like they wanted to kill me.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” Jacob asked with a smirk. He took a couple steps closer until he was six inches away from my face. “I’m gonna enjoy this.” In one swift movement he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and lifted me up; my back slid along the metal locker and my shirt choked me. I gasped as I tried to get some air into my lungs.

My vision started getting hazy all too quickly. That all too familiar feeling of passing out invaded my consciousness and threatened to take over. I didn’t want to accept it. Out of all the instances I’d had with death, I didn’t expect to get that close to it at my high school because of a guy I’d known about for a week.

Jacob’s grip tightened when he noticed I was starting to struggle less. My vision went darker and my breaths became more shallow. My final thought was a prayer that another student, a teacher, the SRO, hell even the principal, would come and stop this.

“Put him down,” a voice growled from the distance. Jacob’s grip loosened giving me the chance to take in a few grateful breaths. When I was able to gain focus, I saw my three assailants look to their right then look at each other. I looked in that direction as well. Relief rushed through me when I saw Vic standing at the end of the hall with his arms crossed over his chest and a pissed off look on his face.

“Fuentes, hey…,” Jacob said shakingly.

“Put. Him. Down,” Vic enunciated angrily. Jacob’s lackies looked at him with pleading eyes before Jacob sighed and dropped me. Luckily, I wasn’t too far off the ground so I landed on my butt. I groaned from the impact but breathed a sigh of relief.

“I have a bone to pick with him though, and you,” Jacob growled.

Vic shook his head as he walked closer to us. “You really wanna try that shit? You remember what happened last time?” One of Jacob’s friends snickered which made Jacob stare daggers at him.

“Get lost,” Vic continued once he was in front of the three. “And if I find out that you’ve bothered him again, I’ll deal with you personally. And I know you don’t want me to do that again.”

Jacob grimaced at me then at Vic but left without another word. His two friends followed suit.

I slumped against the lockers and closed my eyes. I was glad that Jacob was gone, but I was happier that Vic was the reason he left. I opened my eyes and looked at my hero who was staring down the hallway. Curious, I looked in that same direction. Jacob and his friends had just walked that way but there was no one there at that moment.

“What are you looking at?” I asked. Vic didn’t respond, he didn’t even look at me. He stayed stoic for a minute before he joined me on the floor.

“Sorry, I was just making sure they were gone.” I would have questioned it, but I trusted Vic’s weird sixth sense.

He turned to me with his winning smile, the same smile that had been flashing through my mind and consuming my thoughts for days.

"What’s up, KQ?" he asked, his smile never faltering.

“Not much, VF.” We both paused and stared at each other in confusion. I scrunched up my face. “Ew, nope. Hated it as soon as it left my mouth.”

Vic almost doubled over in laughter while I pouted. “Aw, what’s wrong?” he asked when he calmed down and had noticed my expression.

“You have all these cute nicknames for me: Kells, Quinn, KQ. I have nothing for you.”

He looked confused. “You’re upset because you wanna give me a nickname?”

“No,” I said still with a pout, “I’m upset because I haven’t given you a nickname yet. I wanna even the playing field.”

“But Vic is my nickname.” I rolled my eyes. He wasn’t getting it.

“Oh, you mean the name that I and everyone else already calls you? Yeah, no. I need something more original.”

He leaned his back against the lockers and looked into my eyes, his signature sly grin on his lips. “I mean, you can always call me ‘daddy’.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep myself from blushing. “Or I could call you ‘pretentious fucker’.”

“As long as you’re calling me, baby.” He reached up and ran his thumb along my jawline. I bit my lip softly, enjoying the feeling of his hand on my skin.

“You know, I really like it when you bite your lip,” he whispered. He was holding eye contact with me as his thumb gently pulled my bottom lip from my teeth. “Makes me wanna do it.”

I blushed. “We’re in the middle of the hallway.”

“Then maybe I should make this quick before someone comes.” He guided my face to his and kissed me softly. My eyes closed and pleasure and desire took over. Just like our first kiss, his lips molded against mine perfectly. They were so soft yet dominating. I knew he wanted to take control, and I’d let him.

But before I could deepen the kiss he pulled away. I pouted but he stood and held his hand out to help me off the ground. I was going to ask why he stopped when the bell rang signaling that it was time for lunch.

Students rushed out of their classrooms and into the hall. I leaned back against the lockers trying to catch my breath and regain composure before anyone noticed. Vic was standing in front of me with a small smirk fighting against his lips.

“You’re a pretentious fucker,” I whispered.

He shrugged and tapped his lips twice before our friends came up to join us.

***

Vic and his friends agreed to join us for lunch. We settled on getting street tacos on the beach, much to Sav and Tori’s dismay. It didn’t matter too much though; they’d still have to eat.

Vic and I had arrived at the beach before everyone else. He snuck me away while our groups of friends were grasping the fact that we were having lunch together. It wasn’t a new thing, but my friends assumed that since we were going off campus we’d be out of harm’s way. Then I told them about what Jacob had done and convinced them that it would be better if Vic and his friends tagged along. They didn’t argue.

Currently Vic and I were sitting at a table in the picnic area of the beach. Our friends would arrive soon, so we were cherishing our alone time before we had to act like we weren’t dating.

I sat across from Vic just looking at him. He was typing away on his phone and chuckling occasionally at something on his screen. I smiled to myself as I watched the corners of his mouth turn up. He really was cute, and I couldn't believe that he wanted me.

"What are you thinking about?" I snapped out of trance and focused on Vic. He was giving me his cocky grin.

"Nothing," I muttered embarrassed that he'd caught me staring.

"Bullshit. You're thinking about me, aren't you?"

I scoffed. "You wish."

He smirked. “No, I wish that we could finish what we started in the hall.”

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks at the thought of what happened just minutes ago. “It’s so easy to make you blush,” he said with a chuckle. That comment brought my temperature back down.

I rolled my eyes. “Especially when you’re a pretentious fucker.”

“Hey, that wasn’t very nice.”

I smirked in an attempt to mask a giggle that wanted to escape. The look he was giving me didn’t help me hold in my laugh. I bit my lip as I snickered to keep me from doubling over.

“You know, I still wanna bite that lip.” I blinked. Once again, he had said something I wasn’t expecting and it threw me off.

“Really?” I asked.

“What, you don’t think I will? I’ll bite it right now.”

I scoffed. “I’ll believe it when it happens, Victor.”

“Victor?” His face contorted in disgust. The reaction made me giggle.

“Yeah, I think it works,” I said referring to our nickname conversation from earlier. “It’s a strong name.”

He shook his head. “You’re not gonna call me that again.”

“Oh yeah?" I challenged. "Try me.”

“Is that a request because I’ll take you up on that.”

We held each other's gaze so long that anyone passing by or looking at us could feel the sexual tension. I couldn't deny it either; I would've jumped on him if we were alone.

“Oh c’mon, just kiss already,” we heard a voice groan. We turned our heads and saw Mike standing at the table. We hadn’t noticed he had arrived.

Vic blinked a few times in shock. “W-wh-huh?” he stuttered.

I looked between him and his brother. “What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Don’t play dumb. I know. Hell, we know.”

As if on cue Lynn, Tony, Jaime, and Sav joined us. Vic and I looked at them and then at each other.

“You know what?” Vic asked.

“We know,” Jaime emphasized.

I looked at all of them. “You know?”

“Everyone at this table knows,” Mike replied.

Vic looked at me again before he asked, “How?”

“Well for one, you’re not very subtle. I was kinda convinced you guys were fucking this whole time.” I blushed at Mike’s comment.

“And we’re Kellin’s friends. He told us about the date you guys had,” Lynn answered.

“And I’m your fucking brother. I know you almost as well as I know myself. Of course I know you’re into guys.”

“And we’re your best friends,” Jaime added putting his arm around Tony.

“We kept it silent for Kellin. He didn’t want his shit getting out,” Sav chimed in.

“And it’s not our place to tell other people something that you need to admit to yourself. I knew you’d tell us when you were ready. But yeah, we know.”

Vic looked at me one more time after Mike finished talking. The earlier emotions that had flashed across his face when our friends approached the table – fear, embarrassment, and maybe some guilt – were replaced with relief after their little speech.

“Well, I’m ready.” I looked at Vic in shock. He just smiled at me and reached his hand across the table. I smiled back at him and placed my hand in his. “Guys,” he started, “I’m gay and I’m dating Kellin.”

I had to look down at my lap because I couldn’t contain my emotions. Just days ago he was worried about being affectionate in public, and now Vic was coming out to our friends.

He lifted our hands and planted a soft kiss on the back of mine. I looked back up at his face to see the biggest, brightest smile I’d ever seen him wear. I couldn’t help but smile back.

[shesinspain-blog]

Me vs. Beach

“It’s so beautiful,” Maddy said. We were walking down my street after a bougie lunch, heading to have beers and chocolate by the water.

I do this walk almost every day. Even though I try to appreciate my surroundings, I never feel like I’m doing Barcelona enough justice. The weather is so much warmer now; my Norwegian heritage is content with low-70s temperatures all summer. This will not be the case. But this, right here and now, is perfect.

Back home, people would *mention* being from California or going to a tropical vacation destination. They’d get this dreamy, delirious look on their face and say, “I mean, the water, the sand-- what more could you want?!”

I USED TO HATE THE BEACH. Hate hate hate. To the point that I would exempt myself whenever possible of Florida vacations. I would sulk in the dreadful sun, watching my skin become salmon pink and later graduating to blistering, glowing red. I’ve had sunburns so bad I can’t sleep. I’ve been to too many pool parties where I get stuck in the shade, wishing I could read a book in peace or think about anything besides how hot it is.

So, when people got beach-crazy-eyes, I used to roll mine. “Yeah yeah, can’t wait!” I’d lie before my move to Barcelona. I didn’t even care for palm trees. I had it out for the beach.

Living here has opened up my eyes to how life can be different. It doesn’t have to be 12 hours of beach, 5 days straight, and then a flight back to the Midwest. It can be 30 minutes, or with friends, or alone, or with a book, or with music, or after work, or in the mornings, or working out, or sitting on a bench.

The tables really turned for Me vs. Beach on my maximum homesickness days.

I had another one this month - a day of homesickness so bad my stomach hurts. My first move was to buy a jar of peanut butter (a ~delicacy~ here), and eat some with my pointer finger, mean muggin and listening to Wake Me Up When September Ends. Not my best look, seeing as I noticed more than one person wait for me to get out of a shot before they took a *Barcelona!* picture lol. After buying the PB, I kept marching to the beach and sat looking out at the water.

Seeing the waves, smelling the saltwater, and acknowledging the vastness of everything puts me at peace. I can’t explain it. I never thought this would be my mental vibes cure. A couple months back, I came to the beach at night and sat listening to Eat Pray Love for an hour in 50 degree weather. The ocean helped me then, too. CALL ME MOANA I GUESS LOL!

As the months pass, it becomes harder and harder to keep up my once a month entries. So much happens in four weeks! I know! But there’s so much less drama than the beginning.

Besides my 1 bad day this month, May was AWESOME! I got to see three people I haven’t seen in over a year: a dinner with Emily & John, who I met through my BFF Sarah, and my best friend Maddy, who I met in the OSU design program. I had so much fun with both visits. Lots of laughs! And so fun to tell stories with old friends. And it was intense. My brain definitely turned off the awareness of how far I am from home. I don’t realize it until I’m hugging people who I last saw 4000 miles away. It’s easier, mentally, this way - to go day by day, not acknowledging the passage of time. My feelings played catch-up after saying goodbye (hence the beach-peanut-butter-adventure). But I’m okay. Some fellow expats backed me up & reminded me how normal it is to miss somewhere else. I cannot state strongly enough how happy it made me to see my pals here.

May also included a LOT of saving money for me, which should be paying off very soon! Like I said in my last post, Barcelona is pretty break-even, but I was living on a wing and a prayer for a minute (re: 8 cavity fillings). I’m happy my days of staying in and baking galettes or only getting ~one drink~ actually made a difference. It makes me a lot more excited for Barcelona Beach Fest, June, and all the other fab things coming sooner or later.

In May, we said goodbye to Maja AKA Baby Toasty. As always, it was a really hard goodbye - we made so many memories in this city together. I think I’m getting better at accepting Barcelona’s transient nature. When friends leave, I know how special our time is together and how lucky we were to have gotten close. It’s almost like college again. People graduate, people move, but your friendship is still true & fierce & spectacular.

OH ALSO my BOOK CAME OUT THIS MONTH! You can buy my comic book, Gezellig, two ways on the internet: a PDF file and a real stinkin’ printed book. Super exciting and really incredible to have so many people react positively to this. I’ve been quietly working for months on it. Being able to share my hard work and passion project with people I love was overwhelmingly meaningful. And if you’re one of the people who bought a copy, THANK YOU! And I’d love to hear from you! Did you like it?! Any comments!? Hit me up!!!! (Please I really have no way of knowing who bought it and I’d at least like to say thanks personally!)

Anyway, I’m still not sure what I’m doing but I don’t think about that, or care, anymore. I’m making more art here. I got to check out Nit del Museos (ALL MUSEUMS ARE FREE FOR THE NIGHT) and saw some cool exhibits at two museums. I’ve lost friends here, I’ve made friends here. I listened to Little Women (now I’m listening to HP1 and guys really it’s good but wow the movie is so on point). I just unsubscribed from the NYTimes Morning Briefing to give my brain a break. I’m focusing on good vibes and becoming such a hippy. I’m happy. I’m happy. I’m finding myself. I’m happy.