#but i actively do it anyways. i sit here and i yearn to create and get recognition

[tanzdoesthings]

having an assignment where the whole topic is “is it worth it to suffer for art” is really making me think.

[oonajaeadira]

State of the WIP Address

Okay, y'all, I've been in a really weird place where I've been avoiding...pretty much a lot of stuff. Dunno if I have to talk to my doctor about upping my meds or what, but this is why I actually went on them--my depression manifests not in laziness, but avoiding things I need to do and things I actually WANT to do. Then I don't do them and it all starts building up. And then the to do pile feels insurmountable, like I'll never get to finish all these wonderful things. So I just...freeze up and roll over. Like a fainting goat. You'd think I'd be like "yay! lookit all the things to look forward to! I have years ahead of me full of things I really want to do! I should never be bored again!" But no. Can't do them Right Now? Fainting goat. It's weirdo. We've all got our weirdo and this is mine.

I only mention it here because I do State of the WIP Address to be accountable. Now, the weird thing is, I don't actually expect anyone to read these posts--they're boring and personal and totally for my own motivation. I just know myself and know if I put something out there, I'll feel bad if I don't do it and that should motivate me to actually do it.

But here's the thing....it doesn't work anymore. I'm no longer fulling for my own snake oil. The placebo has run out. If I know it's inconsequential, then my brain tricks me into thinking that I'm accountable to no one. And, in reality, it's true that I'm actually accountable to no one so the trick doesn't work.

Anyway. Welcome to Adira's brain where she finds her own thought patterns a fascinating psychological study and the lab results are inconclusive.

So I'mma try to twist the experiment a bit. Rather than list the things I know I can't get to right this second and feel bad about it, we're gonna let promises go and do it this way. It's not interesting to anyone but me and anyone who nerds out on process. But rather than listing the things I'm not working on, I'll talk about the ones I am, how it's going, what's in my craw about it, and maybe in my ramblings I'll clear the gears to start rolling again.

This isn't interesting to anyone but me unless you really wanna see how seriously I take my fic writing. Cringe if you want. I'm just being honest with myself. My fic isn't high art, but as with anything I create, I can't half-ass it either. It's "be satisfied with it on my terms" or bust.

STATE OF THE WIPS

I have one million projects happening, but these are the pieces I'm actively thinking about and working on at the moment.

SECRET SANTA Where it's at: I'm writing for someone I think is a wonderful person and want to do right by them, so the pressure's on. But at the same time, it's not. Because I know how accepting and lovely the person is and they gave me a lot of prompts and options and like a lot of the things I do and seem to like a lot of the types of things I like to write. I also know that this doesn't have to be over-complicated, that I can write my heart and it will please both of us. While I haven't actually opened up a doc to start, I know that it's the type of thing that if I have a little uninterrupted block of time, I can just sit down and it will flow. I won't say much about it here, but I will say that while it can 100% be read as standalone, it hits on a character/series I'm currently writing and acts as a kind of prequel, a reason for loving the reader as he does. It's something that is kind of missing in the planned series and I think this would be a nice opportunity to explore it before moving forward (and maybe helping propel that series a little) while also touching on one of the characters my giftee likes, a genre they are interested in that I hadn't considered with this character, and it will have a tone I think they'll appreciate. So while it's for them and being written with their likes in mind, I thank them, because it's also a little gift for me and my yearnings. What's stopping me: Time constraints and general anxiety.

TROPE FIC: MODERN DOM!PERO Where it's at: This one got a little sloppy and I'm working on it. I've been following @max--phillips' entries about what defines certain types of kinks and while my thoughts on dom!Pero started as true dom, they swung wrong when I started working on this, and now I'm just thinking myself back to the definition of dominant. And while I may still be missing the mark, it's helping me to think more about how I want to explore and frame this dynamic. It's also giving me a little trouble in that it's not coming out chronologically which causes me to waste time jumping around and retrofitting things. What's stopping me: I put this one on hold to start prioritizing the Secret Santa piece.

TROPE FIC: SEX POLLEN!OBERYN Where it's at: This piece is flowing chronologically. It's going to be longer than I anticipated and the first draft is about 1/3 done. I already know that after the first draft I'll have to do some shaping and I think maybe I got overwhelmed with the task I set for myself and that triggered my avoidance. I know where it's going, I'm excited for it, it will flow easily if I let it, I just have to do it! What's stopping me: I put this one on hold because I got distracted by tasty Pero thoughts. I blame @perotovar for the thots, but not the stopping. That's all on me.

TROPE FIC: ALPHA!JAVI Where it's at: I'm about 1/2 done with the first draft. Again, this one will be longer (and also more angsty) than I anticipated. I love love love where it's going though and reader and Javi's history is beautiful and sad and complex; I really love that half. I'm just now switching into the modern day section of it and have to make a few decisions about how I actually want it to go. My mind is over-complicating the story and I'm trying to wrestle it down a softer path. What's stopping me: I got distracted by the Oberyn story which is why this one's on hold and now this is all Inceptioning on itself.

GOOD. THINGS. TAKE. TIME. Where it's at: The asks are all sorted, there are only a few more sessions left before chapter 4. I just have to write it. What's stopping me: Here's the thing about PATS. If I was out for notes, I'd be pounding on this series, because it's my most popular one. But... really, I'm just here to dream up stories I like to tell. I put PATS down not consciously and not because I don't love him, but I got excited by other ideas. I want to finish it because I don't like having a bunch of unfinished projects lying around, but I also don't want that to be my #1 motivator for writing him. I want to enjoy it. I did enjoy putting the latest installment out, but I also don't feel like I'm letting anyone down if I don't hurry it, just because engagement is low. Again, I'm not here for the notes, I truly love the connection and the squeeing and sharing a yearn. We're all so busy now that it's tough to get to everything and the mutual timing is a bit off. That's okay. It's planned out, it'll get done, I just have to do it when I'm feeling it.

LEAVE OFF YOUR WANDERING: WINTER Where it's at: Finished plan. Yet to begin writing. What's stopping me: I was wrestling with this one for a bit because I had two directions it could go--soft and fluffy without much meat, or weaving all the details together and serving a story that gets rather dark, a little sad, and serves as a fix it. On one hand, I felt like I would be betraying readers by not keeping the euphoric escape. But I would also feel like I built this whole backstory that needed to manifest itself in a test for Joel and Meadowlark, as well as the fact that--other than backstories--there hasn't been any canon hardship or violence displayed. It's like I'm missing a huge chunk of who Joel and Meadowlark are. In the end, that's where the story wants to go, so I'm going there. And I have to not think about what anyone else wants, just me. Not just for selfish reasons, but I know that's when I do my best. It doesn't mean there won't still be fluff and a happy ending. It just means I have to write darkness and perhaps it will serve me better to do it in the season in which it takes place.

[d1stalker]

hii 🫶🏻

this may be a weird question but, as someone who’s been inspired by your writing and now really wants to get back into writing again even though it’s been years, do you have any advice on how you come up with such creative ideas for your fics?

like not only do you come up with unique ideas that are so interesting and exactly what your readers yearn to read, but you’re also able to make them deliciously lengthy which is such an impressive goal that many writers would love to achieve! so i would really appreciate any tips you may have on how you do that (and maybe also any tips on writing dialogue because your dialogue is so incredibly realistic, meanwhile mine has always been disastrous because of how much i struggle with it… lol) 🥲

but yeah, feel free to just ignore this ask! i don’t mean to dump my struggles onto you. i’m just such a fan of your writing and never fail to be impressed by you, so i thought i’d ask <3

anyway i hope you have a great day / night! thank you for writing and sharing your fics with us!

Another amazing message yawl are gonna make me cry 🥺❤️

I'm so happy I had a role in reigniting your interest in writing! I've always had a really active imagination, ever since I was really young I'd just think you know? I know that isn't helpful at all so here is some stuff i do that gets me thinking:

listen to music (specifically film scores - so I can imagine scenes that go with them)

sit down and write a list of what ifs - these can serve as possible au ideas!

read other stories! the more you read, the more ideas can merge into eachother, creating something completely unique

I primarily do the first and last. I also listen to music as I write to really get into the mood, and I find the ideas just come to me that way. Also, this is no shade to anyone because everyone loves a good trope, but I feel like there are a lot of stories with similar plot points, so I try to actively choose something else to write about.

-

Length wise, it's all actually a bit accidental. I mean, there are some stories that I know will be long based on how much detail in the plot I include, but for the most part, I think it's just because I cannot stop writing. This goes back to what I do to get ideas, and when I have a good idea, I am able to flesh it out and write a lot!

For dialogue, I say what I write out loud! If I cringe, or like physically cannot bring myself to say it, then it's getting scrapped. I kind of just write what I would say, and go from there! (this is terrible advice I'm sorry)

-

You didn't dump any struggles on me! I'm so glad you messaged and I hope you post something soon - I'd love to read it :)

[withered-rose-unbreakable-lotus]

So...I had this thought, and maybe I'm overthinking this, but I don't think Reita's wish for the band to keep going forever necessarily meant the band should keep being active forever. And before you get angry hear me out, I am not saying they should disband, I am just explaining why that being the meaning alone didn't sit right with me.

One of the things Ruki questioned right away was "What did he mean by forever?". Now, Reita liked using overexaggerated phrases like forever or saying that we should get prepared to be killed by him in lives, because the Gazette and lives to him were more than your common human experience. They were trascending human limits. Anyway he was an all or nth person in general too, that much makes sense. He knew they aren't immortal. But while all this is true, I can't imagine Reita would bind his friends with sth like that. He sure wouldn't like them to let sadness win, he would want them to keep their dream alive, but what if one of them couldn't go on. What if one of them was so devastated it affected his health really badly. Would he still push them keep going. Part of me thinks he would, but at his final moment...maybe not so much.

So I was thinking...regardless of what Reita meant, his wish is already fullfilled. Even if the Gazette had chosen to disband, the band wouldn't stop existing. Because they managed to make history and become a big name, even if they didn't produce anything more, people would remember them, and pass their love for their band to future generations. Take a few western artists for example. Michael Jackson, David Bowie, Prince...they all died. But their work, their essence lives on. And before you also come for the fact the Gazette didn't reach that worldwide acclaim, I'd like to remind you how many artists had pretty much no acclaim in their time, but after their death eventually were recognized as legends for their craft and are still remembered and celebrated to this day. So yeah. I think Reita's wish is already fullfilled. And all the band and we can do, is add to its size. We could have left the Gazette and what was passed on to others from now on, to what we have so far, that too would keep the band alive no matter what. But we could also add new songs, new lives, new memories and waaay more stuff to pass down to the eternity Reita wished for.

That's what I think. And if they too saw it like that maybe they'd feel a wee bit less stressed while honoring his wish (Cause there is no way their perfectionism won't escalate from now on, hoping every new thing they make iiis as good enough for Reita's expectations too)? Because the wish fullfillment appears to already be there and all they have to do is keep creating and have fun at lives like before. And of course make sure there is a space for Reita to come down and play too cause I'm sure they'll hear from him if they stopped that. ^^' Anyway yeah. It's just a different take. From Aoi's words about Reita's opinion on eternity, it appears that Reita never really saw them having reached that level until he died. So I hope he at least can see it now. Bro had already won and didn't even know. Aoi said Reita yearned for them to do such thing, connect the band to eternity, but that in the end he's the one who immortalized the band. I disagree. They had already managed that together while he was still here. And I wish he could have seen it while he was still with us. ._.

[chokemeanakin]

Cruel Intentions - Anakin Skywalker x fem Reader (smut)

Masterlist

WC: 6.8k

Summary: It’s Life Day but Anakin is mad and he’s got a dirty fucking mouth

WARNINGS: 18+, some mean talk but it’s not really degrading, oral (m) receiving, p in v, holiday fun?

(a.n. plz, plz, pretty plz get Anakins voice in your head when you read this. watch a video of hayden stuttering his way through an interview or something, whatever, it just wont be the same unless you get his voice saying all this. anyway, continue. and merry christmas/happy holidays).

(Gif from @madeleineengland )

You had always loved Life Day, but this one in particular was going to be something special. Anakin scored time off from the war, and through the help of Padme, you got one of her lakeside Naboo houses all to yourselves for the holiday. 

You arrived before Anakin, as he was finishing up a meeting with the Jedi Council, and passed the time by making cookies. You were having a pretty good time at it too— your hair was up, music blasting, candles lit, and half a glass of wine was slowly disappearing as you danced around the kitchen. Then you heard the door jiggle and open, and a gust of cold air from around the corner signaled that Anakin was here. 

Right away, you could tell he was mad. He walked through the door with a scowl, face drawn in irritation, yanking his robe off and shaking the snow out of his hair. He threw his robe up on the hanger and nudged the door shut with his elbow. He didn’t even take his boots off as he came into the kitchen, still in full uniform.

You considered asking him what the mood was for, but in all honesty, you were afraid of his reaction. Usually he either deflects or gets mad back, and you really don’t want to fight. 

But he was silent as he prowled around the kitchen, taking in your activities, and you wanted to know what was bothering him on Life Day’s Eve of all days. If you could make it better, you’d try. So you softened your voice, and in your warmest, most innocent tone, you tried, “Hi, Anakin, I miss you! I’m making cookies if you want to stay here and help. Or just sit and watch. I don’t mind.”

You thought you’d start off simple. Get him to relax a bit, and then dig into what the issue was. He stood by the doorway, arms crossed, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re not mad that I’m late?” 

He thought you were mad? You were too tipsy to be mad. Honestly, you hadn’t even been keeping track of the time.

“Of course not! You had a council meeting, that’s important. I’m just glad to have you now,” you shot him your brightest grin. “Besides, we have all week to ourselves.”

At that, his shoulders loosened and he smiled a little back at you. It disappeared quickly, but his affections were replaced with two strong arms winding around your waist, one warm and one metal. He huffed lightly and rested his chin on your shoulder, watching you mix the icing in your bowl.

His demeanor was slightly better than you had previously perceived, so you decided to risk it.

“...Did something happen?”

“Just the same old,” he mumbled, nuzzling his face into your neck. It’s cold from the snowflakes still wetting his hair, and you shivered. “The council doesn’t trust me, they still won’t consider making me a master. Windu thinks I shouldn’t even be on the council.” 

You struggled to find words to this. You wanted to take his side, and tell him he deserved to have it all. At the same time, the council was full of old and wise members, and they knew what they’re doing. But you hated how much it was bothering Anakin, hated how under all that anger there was hurt, and a fear that he wasn’t good enough. The council was making him doubt himself, and it you wouldn’t have that.

“It’ll all come in due time, I’m sure of it,” you tell him. “Whether they like it or not, you’re on the council for a reason. You belong there, and I’m sure if you give it a littlest more time they’ll come around to seeing how you deserve the title of master. Besides,” you twist around in his arms enough to skim your lips across his jawbone, pressing a lingering kiss into his neck. “I can call you Master whenever you’d like.”  

This made Anakin freeze, and then begin to laugh. His low chuckles vibrated your body, and you couldn’t help but join in with him.

“I might have to take you up on that offer sometime.”

Your stomach clenched at the insinuation, heat pulsing through your veins. That was one of your goals for the night, admittedly— to be with Anakin. You had a little surprise for him as well, and you were just hoping he wouldn’t be too disgruntled or worked up to appreciate it. That being said... sometimes it was a good thing when he was frustrated.

Anakin sacrificed a hand to reach forward and dip into the bowl, scooping a dollop of blue icing out and placing it in his mouth. You heard him suck it off his finger, beating the dirty thoughts back with a stick. 

“Is it good?” You ask to distract yourself.

“Here, try.” 

You turn, expecting him to offer you a finger with some icing on it but instead he kisses you. Immediately your mouth is flooded with the sugary blue that stains his lips. You open your mouth, tongue tasting his, and he’s sweet. Your cheeks are burning bright as he kisses you, slow and deep and dirty, and it’s such a 360 from the lighthearted atmosphere you’ve created.

When you pulled back, you’re breathing hard, mouth tingling, licking your lips for the remnants of sweet icing. Anakin smiled down at you, eyes dark, and went back to resting his head on your neck, whispering in your ear in a low, rumbling voice. “Finish up. There’s other plans I want to get to.” 

•••

Anakin ended up having to leave again as you were icing the cookies to take one last impromptu call from Obi-Wan, just some last minute tying-loose-ends before his short break. He also took the chance to get out of his Jedi clothes, trading the leather armor and robes for more comfortable sleep clothes— which included loose fitting pants that hung low on his hips, and that damned sleep robe he wears without a shirt.

He came back into the kitchen just as you were finishing up, and you almost choked when you saw him.

“Aren’t you cold? It’s snowing pretty heavily out there and you’re not even wearing a shirt.” 

“I’ve got a fire going in the master bedroom, it should warm the place up soon,” he took some of your dirty dishes to the sink. “Why, do you not like it?”

“No, I—“ you stutter. It’s just the opposite. He’s beautiful beyond words. “I just didn’t want you to be cold.”

“I’m alright,” he smiled at you teasingly, reaching around you to grab the last of the dishes. 

Once they’re in the sink, he found you climbing up onto the counter, putting the spices away that were, of course, in the highest cabinet out of reach. You stretched up to reach it, unashamedly putting on a little show for Anakin as you exaggerate the curve of your backside. 

The action caused the holiday shorts you’re wearing to ride up, exposing the fleshy underside of your behind. You turned around to find him watching you, not even trying to hide it. He leaned back on the counter, arms crossed over his bare chest, eyes thoughtful as he took in the sight.

“Help me down?” You asked him, and he immediately pushes himself off the counter to fit his hands around your waist, lowering you safely to the ground. He held onto you a little too tight for it to be innocent, and you could feel him gravitating toward you, leaning in to start something you wouldn’t be able to stop. You pull away— you're not done with him, in fact your teasing has just begun.

Anakin huffed quietly to himself as you moved around him to start the warm water, soaking the dishes in it so the batter won’t stick overnight. You purposefully shot some water onto your shirt so that you had to gather a wad of paper towels in your hand and dab at your chest, pulling your shirt down so you could get at the wet spots. Anakin rolled his eyes as you grumbled about how clumsy you were, but you could see he was discreetly trying to look.

His resolve was already thin when he walked through the door. He hadn’t been able to have you in far too long, and he was planning on doing something about that tonight. He wasn’t sure what page you were on, though…. You seemed pretty content with baking cookies and then watching movies all night like you had mentioned in the days leading up, so your little teasing games were doing nothing to quell his curious anticipation.

You didn’t even have to try to get him all worked up. The spice cabinet, the wet shirt, those weren’t needed. It was like you didn’t even realize the effect you had on him— every little move you made around the kitchen, every little sigh or gasp or giggle, even the way you bent down to take the damn cookies out of the oven had him yearning for you. 

The last straw was when you needed a rag to clean the countertop, so you reached across his lap where he was sitting to grab it. You placed a not-so-innocent hand on his thigh to steady yourself, brushing against his chest as you did so. He was immediately enveloped in your smell, and the feel of your soft hair against his chest, your hand on his thigh— he needed to have you, now. 

“Y/n, forget the cookies,” he demanded.

“Oh?”

“Let’s go upstairs.”

•••

Your tongues clashed, teeth nipping, breaths gasping for air as you struggled to get closer to one another. All of Anakin’s anger and frustration was pouring out him in bruising kisses, fast and wet and greedy. You were combatting it with your own dirty, lustful responses. It was one of your favorite things to feel so needed by him, even if he was projecting his emotions from the day onto you. You were his outlet, the only thing that could help him, and you would gladly take these punishing kisses for as long as he needed.

The hand that wasn’t threaded through your hair exploded the rest of your body, fitting into each and every curve, squeezing at certain places and pulling you closer, adjusting you on his lap. He slipped his fingers beneath the neckline of your shirt, pulling it to the side so he could suck at the pulse in your neck, when he caught a flash of red.

His eyes darkened, lips twisting into a smirk as he traced the lacey garment. Suddenly his hands were gone, and he was leaning back away from you. “Show it to me.”

 So you stood before him and undressed, feeling small under his steady gaze. It was loaded with heat, and you could practically read his mind as each new strip of skin and the lacy red underwear you had worn specially for this occasion was revealed. He was planning everything he wanted to do to you, drinking you in, and storing away the sight into his memory for later times, when he’s on the battlefield and it’s been months and he misses you. But for now though, his present was waiting for him.

The look of him illuminated by the firelight, eyes scorching as he studied every inch of you had you squirming under his gaze. He leaned back in the loveseat, arrogant posture annoyingly sexy with the way his broad shoulders filled out the chair, long legs spreading before him. 

You needed to touch him. He wasn’t saying anything, or doing anything, so you approached him and settled yourself back on his lap, meaning to restart where you had left off. You trailed your hand down the smooth, hard planes of his body, feeling the ridges of his abs, the soft skin smooth and warm. He kept his arms slung lazily over the armrests, refraining from touching you, but you could feel the steady pulse of his eyes as he watched your every move. 

Those deep, calculating eyes. They made you nervous, but you’d be lying if you said the intimidation didn’t turn you on. 

He let you tangle one of your hands in his hair, feeling the soft curls glide between your fingers as you looked over him. But just as your palm slid near the band of his pants, he caught your wrist in his metal hand and stopped you.

“Get on the bed,” he flicked his eyes behind you, a cocky, mischievous glint in them. He knew you’ll do anything he said, with that voice. 

Hesitantly, you stood from his lap and made your way over to the bed. Your skin was raised with goosebumps, as you knew he was studying your every move. You sat on the plush mattress of the bed, crossing your legs over the knee, and looked at him. He was blanketed in shadows, but stared right back. 

“Spread your legs.” 

Your face immediately heated up in flames. He had always been the one to do that to you, with his hands, and pressed right up close to you. Somehow, having him sit across from you on the armchair and watching you from a distance was even more intimate.

He was waiting, though, so you did as he said. You already felt exposed under his greedy gaze, mesmerized by his beauty and the way the flames flickered off the sharp line of his jaw, the peak of his cheekbone. This dark angel was toying with you, teasing you, and you just wanted him to come over here and touch you. But he remained in that seat, head cocked as he looked you up and down.

“Eyes on me,” he demanded softly, cruelly. You had downcast your eyes, afraid to look at him without losing your confidence. The low tone of his voice left no room for debate, so you did as he said. 

Your stomach churned, heart fluttering as he leveled his gaze at you. He was studying every inch of your lewd pose, smug with himself. He wasn’t even even near you, but he had all the control, and he knew it. 

“Now let me see that pretty pussy.” 

Your breathing stopped. His voice is quiet, yet commanding all the same, and you forgot how dirty his mouth could be. It shocked you more than anything, which is why you hesitated.

“What, are you getting shy on me? That’s not what it seemed like in the kitchen,” he mused. “You wanted me to see you. Now, let me see you.” 

The words rang out in the air, causing heat to build up in your core and leak out onto your underwear. Swallowing your slight embarrassment, you hooked your finger around the front of your panties and pulled them to the side, exposing yourself to him. 

Anakin’s gaze darkened, and he sat up. He rested his elbows on his knees, covering his mouth in his hands as he appreciated the view. You squirmed under his gaze, waiting for him to tell you what to do next as you felt cold air hit your glistening folds.

“Look at you,” he purred. “Already soaking wet, and I haven’t even touched you.” 

You shrank away from his eyes, not having anything to say to defend yourself. The fire crackled but you shivered, his shadow looming over you, and you just wanted his warmth pressed against you, his hands on you, pulling that pleasure from the depths of your body. He knew how to do it just right, and you’d never been able to make yourself feel as good as he does. And now he’s right here, but he’s holding himself away from you. Shifting your hips in desperation, you whined and pulled at your panties, rubbing some friction against your throbbing clit.

“Stop. Don’t touch yourself,” Anakin ordered. His eyes were still lidded, voice sharp. You let go of your panties and dropped your hands to the side, holding yourself up on your elbows. Your legs were still splayed open, the sight of your panties soaking through put on display before Anakin.

“Please, Anakin,” you shifted your hips again, hoping it would provide some relief but finding none. “I need you.”

Anakin tsked at this but stood to his full, domineering height. You craned your neck to watch him as he stood over you, capturing your chin between his metal fingers and forcing you to look him in the eye, the other fitting itself on the soft flesh of your thigh. You keened into the soft touch, nerves lighting off like fireworks. 

“You need me?” He taunted, blue eyes digging into yours. “Or does your greedy little cunt need me?” 

You gasped at his words. Never had he called you something degrading before, like greedy. You’re pretty sure you’ve never heard the word “cunt” leave his mouth before either, but it spilled from his lips like red wine, smooth and dark. Anakin had always been so soft with you, so loving, and his statement shocked you. 

“Hm?” He goaded. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

He shifted his hands up your thigh, sneaking over your pelvis and landing on your mound. He let his thumb graze over your clit, unmoving.

Sparks erupted behind your eyes, and you leaned into his touch. An invisible force held your hips to the bed, stopping you from chasing your own pleasure as he continued with his words.

“Do you want me to fuck you open slowly on my cock? You want me to fill your tight little pussy until you can’t take anymore?” 

The weight of his thumb on your clit was distracting. It throbbed under his touch with every measured, vulgar word, and his mouth twitched as he felt it. “I think I just got my answer.” 

At this, he got on his knees before you. He lowered his mouth to trace his lips against the inside of your thighs, and you squirmed between the tickling sensation and the need to have his mouth on you. He gripped your hips in his strong hold, hard, mumbling into the soft flesh of your inner thighs. “You can’t seem to sit still today....” he sucked a bruising kiss into your thigh, and when you roll your hips into the feeling, he looked at you sharply.

“Behave.”

You flinched at his tone. It was deep, threatening, and pulsing with irritation. Was he angry at you? Your eyes stung, shrinking away from his narrowed gaze again, wandering if you did something to make him unhappy with you.

He lowered his head back to your thighs, purposefully skipping over the part that was throbbing for him, dripping for him. You held your breath, desperately trying to hold yourself back from moving or even making a sound, too afraid that you would anger him further. But his thumb pressed a little harder into your clit, and you fell back against the mattress, whimpering frustratedly. 

To your relief, he didn’t get mad at you. Instead he hooked his finger around your underwear, similar to how you did earlier so he could gage your response to his actions. The low hum he let out was pleased. “Such a pretty little pussy... dripping wet... is that all for me?” 

He was still toying with you, still teasing, and at this point it was getting painful. You would do anything to have his fingers on you, mouth on you, anything in you. So you nodded, and you told him it was all for him, everything was for him. He licked a single line up your slit, the tip of his tongue just barely grazing you. The sensation sent fully body shivers across your skin, and you melted into the bed, ready to lose yourself in the pleasure. He covered you again with the now drenched material.

Did you say something wrong?

“Show me how much you want me then.” 

You were shaking as he released his hold on you, head fuzzy with arousal, cheeks flushed with confusion. What game was he playing?

You swallow your nerves and stand from the bed, feeling so small even as you stood over him. He was kneeling, looking up at you under dark lids, daring you to do something. He was giving you some control, so you decided you’d try to get your sweet Ani back, to soften the energy in the room so he could be happy and playful like he usually was.

He sized you up quizzically as you wrapped your arms around his neck, one hand curling into his hair like before. You tilted his head up so you could lean down and plant a gentle kiss to his forehead, hugging his face into your chest. 

Your body shook as he laughed, dark and mocking underneath you. You pulled back to look at him. “Anakin?”

“If you want me to fuck you, sweetheart, you’re going to have to try harder than that.” 

That’s it. 

You just wanted to get fucked, and he just wanted to tease you. If he wanted you to come to him, then fine. So be it. 

Anger bloomed from the pit of your stomach and you pushed at his chest to get him onto the bed. He did so, at his own leisurely pace, pissing you off further with the smug smirk still on his face. You kissed it off of him, biting his lip in punishment and yanking his hair a little too hard in your fist. He groaned like he liked it, so release him and trail you kisses downward, biting and marking up his body until you get to his pants. You pulled back the waistband and revealed him to you, taking him in your grasp. Any normal man would be frightened of an angry girl with his dick in her hands, so you looked up at him, trying to see if he had been humbled by your anger yet. He was staring back at you, unimpressed.

You waste no time taking him into your mouth, sucking hard, maybe a little too hard. He sighed and leaned back, enjoying it far too much. You tried to convey your annoyance with the punishing pace you set on his cock, sliding up and down with your  mouth and hand. You grasped onto his thigh for stability, feeling the remnants of your saliva drip onto it as you gave him the sloppiest, dirtiest blowjob you’ve ever done. Halfway through, when you realize you’ve gotten little to no reaction, you peer up and see that he’s on his datapad. 

You pumped him up and down in your fist, gathering your breath as you studied him. Does it not feel good? Are you not doing a good enough job? He’s hard, so you must be doing something right. But it was like he didn’t even notice what you were doing anymore, or if he did, he didn’t care. You paused with your hand on the base of his cock, squeezing.

“Why’d you stop?” Anakin didnt’t even look up from his datapad. 

“Am… am I doing good?”

“Of course you are,” Anakin finally shifted his eyes to you, bringing a hand down to wipe some saliva off your bottom lip with his thumb. “Now finish the job.”

With this, he removed his hand and his gaze, going back to the data pad. Fueled by anger again, and a determination to make him react, you took him into your mouth harder, faster, sloppier, wetter. He didn’t even twitch, didn’t even moan or bury his hands in your hair or tell you how good it felt like he normally does.

You wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked extra hard, tongue probing into the skin there and swirling in a circle, over and over. There. He gave an appreciative hum. You thought you’ve finally got him where you wanted when he says, 

“That the best you can do?”

You whined around him frustratedly, just wanting him to feel something, wanting him to feel good, wanting him to feel that way because of you. But he was bored, you could tell by the way he didn’t even spare you a second glance as you took him all the way into the back of your throat, holding him there for longer than you ever have. You were trying your best for him, and usually he’d be writhing and moaning beneath you, but now...

He laughed, pulling you off of him with both hands to halt your frenzied movements. 

“Anakin,” your eyes shone with confused tears. 

“Shhh, baby, none of that,” his voice was sweet again, and he stroked the skin of your cheek as he brought your face to his for a gentle kiss. “Come, sit on my lap.”

You were giving up on trying to figure him out. One minute he was so sweet, the next he was uncharacteristically callous. Your eyes burned in embarrassment, feeling like you’ve failed him as you crawled onto his lap. He positioned you on his thighs, keeping yours spread with his. An arm wrapped around your shoulders, locking you to his hard chest as the other snuck down your body, touching you over your panties.

“Is this what you wanted?” goosebumps erupted all over your body as you felt his lips ghost over your ear. “You wanted me to make you feel good?”

He rubbed gentle circles into your clit with his fingers, allowing you to shift your hips in time with it. For a moment, you forgot about your problems and lost yourself in the way he was rubbing you. You moaned as he played with your clit, more slick gushing out and further drenching your panties. 

“Even though you couldn’t make me feel good?”

Your breath caught in your throat, embarrassment bubbling up in your chest. You were ashamed, accepting this pleasure from him when you gave him nothing in return.

“I can try again,” you offered, hips halting. You didn’t want anything else from him until you could give it back, but he slipped his hands beneath your underwear and touched you directly, rubbing you at a fast pace. Your head fell back against his shoulders, legs opening wider on their own accord as your orgasm built up in time with his hand. You couldn’t help but accept the pleasure, forced to feel it as he held you in his iron grasp.

“Anakin.. Anakin please,” you begged. “Let me make you feel good, too.”

“Baby, you already tried,” he nippd at your ear, voice cruel. 

“I can try harder, Ani— please!” Your voice came out in a shout as your orgasm approached. Before you could finish, he stopped rubbing and kept his fingers on your clit, pressing down, feeling you throb beneath him. 

You could feel your slick dripping down your thighs. Your panties were uncomfortably wet, but your arms were trapped under his and you couldn’t reach down to remove them. He seemed to read your mind.

“Let’s get these off you now, hm? You’re soaking through them, I can feel it on my leg.” 

Of course, he ignores your pleas and shifted the focus to drag your panties down your leg. He was right— you’ve made a mess of his leg, but now that you’re sitting directly on him, it’s even worse. He parted your folds with his hand, middle finger dragging up and down your slit, collecting the glistening fluid. A little hint of satisfaction soothed your worries as you felt his cock twitch beneath you at the sight. 

“You always knew how to take my fingers so well,” he whispered in your ear, pushing his finger into you as he does so. You accepted him readily, walls fluttering around his finger as it relieved some of the ache. You wanted to come, but you couldn’t— not without feeling guilty, for neglecting his needs. How could you be so selfish and take all the pleasure for yourself?

“Anakin,” you whined again, trying to get his attention. You purposefully shifted your hips in a way that would rub against him, but only succeeded in pushing his finger deeper into you. “Anakin please, let me… speak… hmng… I can’t focus…”

“Speak,” he kissed your neck, pushing another finger into you despite your warnings. “I’m listening.”

“I want to make you feel good,” you moaned. His fingers stroked into you slow, deep, and perfect. You gushed around his digits, the sound of it absolutely sinful. He kissed the back of your neck as his thumb began to rub your clit again, gently because he knew how close you were to cumming. “Anakin, please.”

“I know, baby.”

No, he didn’t. He wasn’t getting it. Your hands dug into his thighs, wanting him to stop, wanting him to continue—

“I love you. Please, let me—“

“Enough.”

You gasped, bones turning to putty in his hands. He kept sliding his fingers into you, thumb grazing your clit, but you were so ashamed. He just yelled at you, he’s never done that before. And now you didn’t know how to act, how to feel. 

“Aw, baby, did I scare you?” He taunted, curling his fingers into you. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

The sting of his words brought tears to your eyes, but it was battled by your pleasured haze, vision spotting and feeling honing down to the push and pull of his fingers. There were too many emotions swirling inside you that you didn’t know what to say anymore. All you knew was that you were close to cumming again, you have been for a while, but you weren’t sure if you should accept it.

Your walls pulsed around him and he pulled his touch away, denying you of the orgasm as he spread the slick down your thigh. He reached for his dick, gliding it up and down your folds, covering it in your arousal. He was hot and wet and stiff against you, and you bore down, wanting him inside you. For once, he gave you what you wanted, and you both moaned as he began to sink into you.

The stretch was immediate, and you cried out as you took him inch by inch. He was so thick and the angle was so deep that he had to lift you up and bring you back down multiple times, opening you up gradually until he was fully buried inside you.

“Look at you, taking my cock so well,” he praised, kissing up your neck, along your cheek. He twisted a hand into your hair, tugging it back so he could suck at the sensitive skin of your neck. Your walls clenched around him at the pleasurable sensation, punching an unexpected moan from him.

“Fuck me,” he hissed, sounding like your Ani again for just a moment. 

Your chest swelled with pride. Finally, you were making him feel good. You clenched around him again, shifting your hips, searching for another reaction.

“Y/n, shit—“

“I know what your problem is,” you chanced, realizing you had the upper hand for now. “You’re still— fuck— you’re still mad about the Council.”

Anakin glared, thrusting into you harder. 

“That’s why you’re— hnng— that’s why you’re hate-fucking me.”

“I’m not hate-fucking you.”

“This certainly isn’t love-fucking.”

“Would you just shut up and take my cock already?”

He plunged into you hard and deep, stretching you open so good that you momentarily lost your train of thought. Did he just yell at you again?

“This isn’t— this isn’t fair,” you moaned, loving the feel of his length scraping against your walls . “You don’t get to boss me around like this.”

“Oh yeah?” He raised his eyebrows at you, fist tightening into your hair so that you couldn’t look away. “That’s not what it seemed like a few moments ago.”

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” you slammed down onto his cock, anger winning out against everything else. You had one goal in mind now— if you could make him cum before you, it would even out the playing field.

He caught on to what you were planning immediately, flipping you over so he was fully in control. He grasped your hips, lifting them off the bed so he could drill into you at an angle, hitting the spot that had you arching off the bed and calling his name in a moment of weakness. Your pleasure heightened as he rolled his pelvis against yours, your clit rubbing against him. 

“Fuck you,” you moaned, clawing at the bedsheets.

“Currently doing that,” he gasped.

Oh, he was so going to get it.

You reached up, grabbing at his shoulders to pull him down to your level. He was stronger than you and could have resisted, but he gave in, thinking you were about to cum and just needed him close. He wasn’t entirely wrong— with each roll of his hips, his length probed deep inside you, causing your vision to white out. You could barely keep track of your thoughts as you squirmed beneath him. He held you down, completely negating your ability to try and flip him over. 

What had you been thinking? You had just been trying to get the high ground, but now you were so close— so close— to cumming. Think of something gross. Wet socks? Burnt cookies? Jar-Jar? 

Nothing seemed to be working. Soon, you didn’t want it to work. You cried out with each thrust of his hips, eyes rolling back into your head from the pleasure. Your pussy drooled around his cock, slick making a mess of both of your thighs. The slide of him was so hot, so wet, so good— 

“Stop!” 

You couldn’t think of any other way. Anakin immediately stopped his thrusts, pulling back to study your face in a panic.

“What? What happened? Are you okay?”

You bit your lip hard, heart pounding and walls pulsing around his cock from your denied orgasm. You squeezed your eyes closed, waiting for the heat to dissipate from your stomach before you pushed yourself to a sitting position. 

He gave you room to do so, the worry still clear in his eyes. 

“I’m completely fine,” you kissed his cheek, laughing deviously. “I just wanted to be on top.”

Anakin frowned at you, but switched positions anyway. “That’s not funny. I thought I hurt you.” 

“So you do care.”

“Of course I care,” he grabbed the finger that you had been jabbing into his chest, kissing your palm before wrapping it around his neck. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

“You yelled at me,” you lifted yourself off his lap slowly, relishing in the drag of his of cock inside you. You sunk down again, shivering at the sensation.

“I didn’t know you were that sensitive.” 

“Well… when it’s you…” you moaned suddenly, his dick pulsing into you at a delicious angle. “I just don’t like when you’re mad at me.”

“Then you should behave better next time,” he nipped the words into your collarbone, almost purring again.

“See, that’s not fair—“

“Do you need me to fuck some sense into you?” His gaze was firm, completely serious. Your knees weakened around his waist at the tone, wandering why you found that so damn attractive. He tilted his head at you when you didn’t answer. “Is that a yes?” 

“Anakin—“ your cries took you by surprise as he slid his hands down to your ass, clutching your flesh in each hand and spreading you open so he could fuck up into you, hard. Your nails dug into his shoulders, body bouncing as he bore into your aching hole. 

There was no way you were going to last now, not with the way he was making you feel. You had held your orgasm back for so long, and while it would have been nice to make Anakin cum before you, to give him a taste of his own medicine, you were completely at his mercy. 

“Cum for me, and then we’ll talk,” he appeased, voice dark. Why was that hot? Warmth blossomed in your stomach and you listened to his ragged breathing in your ear, body tingling, pussy tightening around him. He turned your face to him with a hand in your hair, holding you close as filthy words spilled from his mouth.

“Take my cock, baby. That’s it, fuck me, come on,” he chanted against your lips. Always so demanding. You couldn’t hold back your moans as he plunged into you over and over, right into that one spot, the heat in your belly expanding until it took over each of your senses. He fucked you at a rapid pace, hips slamming into yours, fingers bruising your ass. Your walls quivered around him, the ball in your stomach snapping. Suddenly, you were coming all over him, pussy throbbing as he massaged his dick into you in wave-like motions, working you through it. 

“Does that feel good?” He teased, lips tracing softly over your cheek, soothing hands rubbing your shaking thighs. He was being sweet again— another 360 change in demeanor. 

You responded with broken whimpers, muscles twitching as you rode out your high. When he finally stopped, you sucked in a deep breath, shivering from the aftershocks.

“Mmm, I fucked you good, didn’t I?” He planted soft kisses under your ear, down your neck, and over your shoulder. Now he was back to taunting you, his words cruel, but voice so sweet. “Your sweet little pussy just came all over my cock. So pretty. You wanted it so bad, didn’t you? Even though you don’t want to admit it?”

He was like a snake-charmer, hypnotizing you with every slow, filthy word. You knew what he was doing, but at the same time, you couldn’t stop your body’s reaction to it. Every syllable had you melting into his lap, his hands rubbing the flesh of your hips softly. 

“Are you blushing again?” He dragged his cock out of you, and you whimpered at the sensation of it against your overstimulated walls. “Don’t tell me you’re shy, now. Not after what we just did.” 

“I’m not shy—“ Force, you couldn’t focus when he looked at you like that, when he purred in your ear like that. 

“No?” He pushed back into you. “Then look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, eyelashes sticking together with moisture. His full lips pulled into a smirk, dewy skin glowing in the firelight. 

“Does this pretty little pussy want to cum on my cock again?” He pulled your hips flush against his, so deep, so thick inside of you. You mewled, blood heating up in your veins.

“Please,” you gave in, allowing him to massage his cock into your walls. 

“Please, what?”

You would get him back for this later. For now, the hot slide of his cock inside of you was too good, too overwhelming. 

“Please, make me cum,” you didn’t think your cheeks could get any redder, his eyes probing into yours as you said this. Never in a million years did he ever expect his shy little baby to say something so filthy. He immediately smirked, pressing a pleased kiss to your lips.

“Good girl.”

Your skin broke out into a hot sweat, hole pulsing around him as he began to rock back into you. His strokes were slower, deeper, pulling ecstasy from the depth of your bones. He kneaded your flesh between his fingers as he rolled his hips into you. You fell forward, moans being dragged out of your sore throat, watching his cock dissapear inside of you.

His thighs glistened with your juices, the sound of him sinking into your leaking hole humiliatingly sinful. He noticed you watching and brought a hand down, toying with your clit. He moaned into your ear as he did so, the drag of his cock becoming difficult as you squeezed around him. 

This time, your orgasm washed over you like a warm blanket, causing you to arch your body into his. You trembled as the waves of pleasure sapped you of energy, rocking your hips in time with Anakin as he spilled his warmth inside of you. The sounds of him cumming sparked a flame in your heart— you wished he had indulged you in his pleasure earlier. Now, all it left you with was a desire to hear him lose it over and over again, and you realized you had your plans all set for the rest of the night.

Anakin stroked his hand up and down your back, lips attaching to your neck as you came down from your highs. He positioned the two of you so that you were laying down, you on his chest, completely limp apart from the occasional post-orgasm shivers. He gave you time to recover before pulling out of you, kissing your quiet whimpers away as he tugged his length out of your aching hole. 

“I win,” he mumbled against your lips.

[hobbitingryffindor]

Don’t respond after 9 pm

So I've never written fanfic before, but apparently, I'm pissed at Jane. Please be kind, but also let me know if I should continue. I have a few other rules and scenes in mind. I have no idea if this will grow into anything more. Constructive feedback would be great.

___

Maura was ruminating. It was never good when she couldn’t get through her Saturday morning yoga session, but these days, it was becoming the norm. So after she finished her cup of tea, she locked herself in her yoga room, rolled out her yoga mat, and settled in with herself.

She had rules. They were new, and it was hard to keep to them some days, but they were there because she knew better. She knows she deserves more. She may not have had an attentive family growing up, but she knows her worth, or at least she’s gotten better at reminding herself. She knows what they have goes beyond friendship. She also knows it will never be more. Jane just keeps holding back the final piece of the puzzle. She could resign herself to a lifetime of this sexually charged and emotionally mediocre but never fulfilling relationship OR she could take a step back from Jane and a step forward for herself. But last night she forgot. She forgot the first rule she put in place almost a month ago.

1 - Don’t respond to Jane after 9 pm

Recognizing the anxious feeling that started in her chest, she told herself that it was a slip-up and it wouldn’t happen again. But she couldn’t help but grab her phone and reread last night’s messages.

10:36: J - Hey, you still up?

10:42: M - Just finished Bass’ enrichment and heading up to bed.

It had been such a simple response, it just floated out of her fingertips. She was so used to just always responding to Jane.

10:43: J- Enrichment? You can just say that you were in the sandbox hiding food for Bass to find.

10:44: M- Fine yes, I was reading his namesake’s new foreword in “Skeletal biology and bioarchaeology of the Northwestern Plains” while bass dug up the cactus leaves and strawberries I hid in his sandbox.

10:44: J- You make my night of watching the Sox lose seem like an exciting night

10:45: M- What can I say? We love to party over here.

10:45: J- I don’t know when it started, but you’ve gotten really good at sarcasm

10:46: M- You must be rubbing off on me ;-)

As Maura reread that line, she couldn’t help but cringe a little. She really couldn’t stop herself from going there last night, it was yet another small slip up, that showed how their friendship was always a little more than friendship.

10:59: J- I feel like I haven’t seen you at all this week, is the morgue backlogged?

11:04: M- It’s no busier than usual. Actually a little less so without a murder yet this month.

11:04: J- Give it time, Boston can’t go more than 2 weeks without a new murder. Have you been in court on other cases this week? I went to see if you could grab lunch a few times and I never caught you.

11:05: M- We must have just missed each other, I did lunch out of the office a few times.

11:07: J- You going to fancy places without me now?

11:09: M - Really Jane, any place that doesn’t allow jeans, you label as fancy. But no, a friend from my residency, Erica, did a few guest lectures at BCU. I caught one of her lectures and we had lunch a few times.

11:09: J- I see how it is, replacing me with other genii.

Reading this for a second time feels like a needle in her chest, last night it paralyzed her, she didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t replacing Jane, per se. This was also the point last night where she realized her mistake in responding to Jane’s late text. Even now, she still isn’t sure she handled it correctly.

11:18: J- Any plans for tomorrow?

11:20 M- While genii is correct, you can just say geniuses, you don’t have to try so hard. And, no I’m not replacing you. I was planning on browsing Newbury St in the afternoon.

11:21 J- Great, so I’ll pick you up at 2, I’ll carry the bags and then we can hit up Eataly for dinner? We haven’t been there in a while.

11:25 M- That’s okay Jane, I know you don’t enjoy my long shopping ventures, you don’t have to come. And I’ve got dinner plans, I’m sorry. But I’ll see you Sunday night for dinner.

After that, it was radio silence from Jane. Even after all these years, all the social cues Jane’s helped her learn, she still doesn’t know how to read the silence. Last night she was torn. She wanted to hang out with Jane but didn’t. Now she had to live with rejecting Jane’s plans, and what felt like a rejection of Jane herself.

That’s what brought her here, meditating as the sun was rising, or trying to anyway. Maura shook herself out and realized she was going to need a little help this morning clearing her mind. So she opened up the Calm app and resigned herself to a guided meditation. Maura went through the motions of her day, finishing off with an overzealous stop at Diane Von Furstenberg’s on Newbury just because. She still hadn’t heard from Jane and was trying to tell herself it was okay, they were okay, they were just both adjusting to this new normal. Maura hadn’t figured out what this new normal was supposed to be, but she knew she was unhappy with how Jane and she were a couple in every way, except in the way that mattered. Their friendship was unhealthy as it was. If they were only going to be friends, Maura was going to start making space in her life for other friends and possibly a lover or two. She can’t pinpoint when it happened, but her very active and healthy sex life seemed to slowly dry up the closer she and Jane got.

______________

Dressed in her new Midi dress, and a brand new pair of St. Laurent sandals, she waived to Angela across the courtyard as she headed off to meet Erica. Driving to the Chart House, she couldn’t help but reflect and acknowledge that Eric’s timing was creating a good distraction for her. She and Erica had done their residencies together, they hadn’t been best of friends, but she was always warm to Maura and tried to include Maura in her social circle. A few years after Maura moved to Boston, she reached out when she landed in Providence doing a Post Doc Fellowship at Brown. They’d do dinner a few times a year, trade interesting journal articles, nothing special, but it was nice to have a friend outside of BPD. When BCU invited Erica to guest lecture for the week, Maura decided she’d just drop in on the first lecture, which led to a couple of lunches earlier in the week, and a celebration dinner as Erica was just offered a tenure track faculty position starting in the fall. Pulling up to the valet station, she decided that this was just what she needed to expand her social circle a bit. She’d enjoy her evening, celebrate Erica’s new position and enjoy the late spring evening.

______________

Like clockwork on Sunday around noontime, the Rizzoli’s started to filter into her home. Angela always led the parade, bringing groceries and starting the prep process. Over the next couple of hours Jane, her brothers, little TJ, Frost, Korsak, Kiki, and even Susie sometimes would wander in and fill her house. When she invited Angela to live in the guest house almost 4 years ago, she never thought it was going to be permanent, nor did she think she’d enjoy having her there as much as she does. For all of Angela’s meddling and snooping in Jane’s life, she’d been nothing but respectful of Maura’s boundaries and privacy. Maura treasured how their patchwork family considered her house their gathering place, when it was full, it felt like the warm home she yearned for as a child. The amazing dinners, even if sometimes unhealthy, were a vehicle for that love and inclusion Maura had spent over 30 years searching for. She’d found it with Jane and her family, but she still craves more. She wants more than a patchwork family, she wants her own family.

As Maura was finishing up working in the garden beds Tommy and TJ arrived. By the time she’d entered the kitchen freshly showered and ready for Angela to put her to work, she saw Jane and Frankie had joined Tommy in watching a basketball game. Maura greeted everyone while looking at the TV, she noticed no one was wearing a green jersey so she knew Boston wasn’t playing, which usually boded well for her couch and rugs. TJ was in his high chair feeding himself some plain pasta while Angela sang to him. Maura and Angela quickly fell into their rhythm with this week’s batch of Ragu simmering on the stove. By the time the lasagna was in the oven, Frost, Korsak, and Kiki had arrived and, Angela and Maura joined the gang in the living room to snack on some arancini before dinner.

While Maura and Angela always cooked, the most relaxing part of Sunday dinners was when Jane and Maura cleaned up. Never fail the boys would head out not long after dessert and the games were over. And Jane in her way of appreciating her mother would kick her back to the guest house for an early night, while she took charge of cleaning up the kitchen.

“Another glass of wine while you work?” Jane asked Maura while grabbing the bottle

Maura just put her glass in front of Jane while nodding for more. The pots and pans were washed, the dishwasher had already started its cycle and Jane and Maura were moving to the living room to straighten up before settling in to catch up on their week. Normally all this happened with a comfortable level of conversation between them, but tonight, there was a little more silence than usual. With blankets folded and the remote located, they settled into the couch, each sitting against an arm, facing each other.

“You know mom asked me how your date went last night, I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone” Jane started.

“It wasn’t a date, I told you I was going to dinner with Erica, she’s just accepted an offer at BCU.”

“No, you said you had lunch with Erica” with a slight hint of annoyance that only Maura could pick up on. “I didn’t know you guys were doing dinner, I thought you might have been hiding a new boyfriend from me”

“No, no new boyfriend Jane. Although that would be nice or maybe a girlfriend, I haven’t dated a woman since I first moved to Boston”

Jane nodded, her eyes a little bigger than normal, sometimes Maura could swear Jane forgot she was pansexual.

“What about you? You seeing anyone new?” Maura asked, mostly to take the heat off of her. She didn’t know what was worse, talking about her lackluster dating life or trying to appear supportive of Jane's dating life when all she wanted was to be the person dating Jane.

“No, although Frost mentioned his old college roommate is single. I can’t believe I’m even entertaining the idea of letting him set me up.”

“You should at least meet him, if Frost is setting you up, I’m sure he’s a good man.” Maura grinned through a fake smile.

“I don’t know” Jane responded, Maura saw the walls going up “ I don’t want to talk about dating. Is Erica going to move to Boston? You know you’ve never introduced us, are you scared I’ll embarrass you?” Jane half-joked, changing the topic.

“No Jane, you have to stop with the self-deprecating humor, you know I’m not embarrassed by you. And yes, she needs to finish teaching a summer seminar at Brown, and then she’ll move up here.” The next words fell out of her mouth as soon as they occurred to her “I should see if she wants to come to next Sunday’s dinner.” Seeing Jane’s small annoyance grow into jealously, she redirected. “She can meet everyone, but please don’t interrogate her for college stories. You already know I was weird and awkward, you don’t need more things to tease me about!”

Jane took the bait “Ohhhh, I didn’t even think of that! I wonder if she’s got pictures!!

Maura just rolled her eyes, relieved that the tension was broken. She really did want Jane and everyone else to accept Erica, she remembered what it was like moving back to Boston and not having anyone. The rest of the night passed quickly, Maura kept the topics to mostly work or Boston politics. Jane could rant about local politics for hours and it didn’t put Maura at risk of gazing at Jane like she wanted to take her upstairs. A little before 11, Jane sighed and made her excuses about getting back to Jo before she relieved herself on the rug again. Pre-rules Maura might have made some comment about how much wine Jane had and how she should stay the night. Post-rules Maura kept her mouth shut. As Maura locked the door behind Jane, she couldn’t help but hope that just maybe, with some delicate balancing, she’d be able to move on from Jane and keep her as a friend.

________

Later that week Maura found herself at the Robber with the whole group, even Susie joined them. Maura was finding her new footing and it felt nice, it gave her a boost of confidence. Jane no longer acted as her interpreter when Frost made a joke, Korsak no longer felt the need to censor his dirty jokes and Susie actually had a pretty foul mouth once she had a few drinks. More than ever she noticed how breaking down her walls, allowed others to break their own down around her. She didn’t feel like Queen of the Dead anymore, she was Maura. As the night stretched on the table shuffled around a bit, Korsak left to meet Kiki, Frankie and Nina joined, Susie went home and Frost tried his luck with a pretty blonde at the bar.

Maura didn’t even notice how slowly Jane crept to her, close enough that her side was against Maura and her arm draped behind Maura across the back of the booth. But she did notice when the vibe between Jane and her started to mirror that of Frankie and Nina, right down to Jane ordering Maura another drink before checking with her. Maura and Jane were a couple, they couldn’t help it. The small touches, the laughing into each other’s sides, even the stolen glances. It no longer felt like hanging out, it felt like they were on a double date. It was too much for Maura, she excused herself to the bathroom to regroup. Looking at herself in the mirror, she scolded herself. She had to get out of there, she needed more distance. How could she possibly have her own relationship if she always ended up with Jane?

“I didn’t realize how late it had was,” Maura said marching up to the booth. “I’m going to head home. I’ll see you all in the morning? Those cultures should be ready by 10, I’ll page you when I have the report ready.” All of a sudden Maura infused a formalness into the air that wasn’t there before. Frankie raised his eyebrows but said nothing. It was weird for Maura to leave without Jane, or at least inviting Jane back to her house.

“I’ll leave with you” Jane started to get up.

“Oh no, that’s fine, I’m parked just across the street. I’ll be fine, stay, enjoy the rest of your beer” Maura responded with a slightly stern note. Jane nodded, “Party pooper, leaving me with these love doves” gesturing to Frankie and Nina, while they responded with mock offense. As Maura walked away, she didn’t see Frankie lean in and whisper to Jane.

Once Maura settled into bed for the evening she decided it was time for her to get out there. Even if it meant her joining one of those annoying dating sites. It was better to be trying than pining. Last week Erica had suggested How About We, it was worth at least signing up. She decided that it couldn’t hurt more than she was already hurting. While she hadn’t opened up to Erica about how frustrated she was with her’s and Jane’s relationship, she had expressed a desire to get out there more and Erica had offered a few bits of advice. If she couldn’t go to Jane about this, it was nice to at least have another friend to commiserate with about dating. As soon as she completed her profile, her phone beeped and a notification popped up on the screen.

11:17 PM

Jane Rizzoli

You awake?

Clicking her screen off, Maura put her phone on her nightstand and turned over for what would be a very uncomfortable night’s sleep.

[itsuki-minamy]

WONDERFUL SCHOOL DAYS: MY PRECIOUS RED

CHAPTER 3: SUMMER

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: skyflyinginaction

* Gakuen K (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

"Maybe he knew of your ability."

Totsuka said that one day after the athletic festival. It was a few days after she changed her clothes.

Kusanagi stopped polishing the glass and Yata's eyes widened and he looked at her.

Bar "HOMRA".

An elegant interior. Looking at one of them, at the vintage jukebox, he takes a breath and doubt Totsuka.

"Eh?!"

"You were talking to King, right? Maybe, I think there is no question."

"That's right?!"

"Yes. I haven't been able to find out everything. That's why..."

Totsuka looked at Kusanagi with a serious look.

"Well, I want to experiment. Kusanagi-san."

"Do it outside."

Totsuka laughed saying "Okay.".

"Kusanagi-san? Won't you see?"

"I have to tend the store. I'm just waiting for the results report."

"Well then everyone, a big place where we don't bother anyone, oh let's go to the riverbank where we played baseball last time."

Everyone takes control and immediately stands up. Also, she was a bit surprised.

Oh, that? Will they all come? Is it my personal cause?

When she wondered and looked at everyone, Yata looked back, "Hey."

"What are you doing? Come on."

"Yata-kun, will you come too? Is it about my ability?"

"Eh?"

Yata grimaced, bowed his head and said, "What are you talking about?"

"Is it because of your ability?"

"Eh? But…"

"Does that mean it's a red club problem?"

"…!"

Involuntarily, her eyes rounded. At the same time, Kusanagi laughed in the background.

Looking back, Kusanagi laughed and shook her hand, saying "Go quickly."

"Don't keep your teammates waiting."

Companions… Those words warmed her heart.

She raised her forehead and followed Yata.

It is enough to walk slowly from the bar "HOMRA". A riverbank where weeds could grow as much as they wanted, except for a small grassy baseball field.

In terms of time, the boys were quiet, perhaps after getting home, with only a few people walking their dogs.

"Now…"

Totsuka looked around his against the setting sun.

He then he said, "So, let's review first.", and he raised his index finger.

"One. When she touched King's flames, she didn't have the ability to manipulate them. She was able to resist Homura's flames, right?"

They all looked at her. She shook her head vertically.

"Yes. It's not hot to touch the flames that everyone creates. But I can't put out the flames. I've been told this several times and I've tried."

Really, many times. She was afraid that other abilities would be activated, so it was a bit dangerous.

When she said that, Totsuka smiled, "That's enough.".

"There are strong and weak abilities, but once you've completed the rite of passage, activating the abilities isn't really that difficult. It seems that some people have a hard time controlling flames. You can probably think that you don't have the ability itself."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. But actually, Konohana-san created a great column of fire in the courtyard. The fire was Yata's flame. That's the second. And the third, it happened even at the athletic festival."

"Eh…?"

Sports festival, but…?

"That's…"

"Finally, that flame that burned the red club's diadem. That wasn't just because of Yata. Yata, you felt that way too, didn't you?"

Everyone's eyes focused on Yata.

Yata made a slightly complicated expression and shook his head.

"That happened right after she called Yata. She didn't realize that her ability had been activated because Yata pounced on the enemy at the right time, right?"

"Yes, not at all."

When she answered him, Totsuka smiled.

"So is. She acted on the flame twice, even though she didn't have the ability to manipulate it. So, I thought. What is the conclusion I came to?"

Totsuka cut his words off there and raised his index finger again.

And he pushed her hand fully towards her.

"Konohana-san."

"Yes."

A small flame ignited on his index finger.

A small flame that was very appropriate to say "light" was like the flame of a candle.

"Please be aware of this flame."

"Eh? Take it into account?"

"Yes. It 'enlarges', 'burns' and is 'strong'. Anyway, let this flame grow. Please think about it."

What does the flame grow?

As they told him, she put her hands together and looked at the flame.

"Increase in size. Make it big?"

She coughed, but nothing happened.

It means, before that, if everyone's eyes were worried, if she looked at him too much, she alone would be worried about it... no, she wouldn't worry about it.

When she thought about it, Suoh, who was sitting alone on the bench, stood up and relaxed in front of her.

The moment she raised her face, his big hand blocked her view.

"Eh? Ah..."

"Don't watch it. Focus on it."

A low voice commanded in her ear.

She took a breath and her eyes widened.

"Do you remember how Totsuka makes the flame? That's what you saw earlier. Remember it. Draw it in your heart."

She closed her eyes as directed, and she remembered that little flame.

"If you can do that, think about it. Imagine it. Light the flame. Can you do it?"

A small flame came to her mind. It was as modest as a candle flame, and quiet.

She tries to make it big strongly. Violently, beautifully. Redder, brighter, and burning.

Like Suoh, was worthy enough to tremble.

Like Yata, flashed so hard she yearned for him.

"Mmm!"

At that moment, there was a scream.

"You can do it."

She hears Suoh's satisfied voice.

At the same time, his hands moved away from her eyes.

"Ah!"

She turned her gaze to Totsuka and took a deep breath.

The flame, which was as small as that of a candle, was now a glow that burned the heavens.

Big, strong, intense and beautiful. A burning flame that glowed red.

Homura's flame like a blazing fire.

"I don't have the power to create a flame like that. Everyone knows it, right?"

Looking delightedly at the pillar of fire, Totsuka smiled.

"This is because Konohana-san made my flame bigger. In other words…"

Totsuka looked around looking at the flames.

"Your ability is the second, the 'amplification'."

"What is the second for Homura?"

Kusanagi put iced tea in front of her and looked at Totsuka.

Since then…

Probably because it was a great column of fire. The people who witnessed the flames rushed forward one after another, and they hurriedly left on the spot. They divided into small groups so that they did not stand out and returned to HOMRA by different routes.

She saw that everyone in the red club at that time, withdrew and moved gently. She was shocked.

She still had a bad idea about that area. If Yata had not retired with her, she was sure that she would have been left alone.

He gently pointed to her right wrist.

He was unscrupulous, but a lot of fun at times like that.

She wondered like Yata, that he's not good with girls, he spoke to her normally and got her out of there.

"Yes. I think the first one is 'superhuman strength'. That's why I broke the grip strength meter."

Totsuka smiled as he made ice cream.

Looking at Totsuka, Kusanagi frowned, "Hmm."

"No. Maybe it's just one? Maybe you're just 'amplifying' your own strength."

Kusanagi's words involuntarily stopped her hand from reaching for the stainless steel cup.

Oh, it's true. There is such a possibility, right?

When she saw Totsuka, he looked up and put his finger on his chin.

"Well, I think it's a different thing. Well, I absolutely can't say."

"Because it's different?"

"That is correct. There are two reasons."

Totsuka held up two fingers.

"One is the difference in the activation conditions."

"Activation conditions?"

"Yes. When the 'amplification' was activated, there was a strong emotion in Konohana-san. She was afraid of Munakata and she cared about Yata. Did you activate it all of a sudden even if you didn't think of anything when you broke the grip strength meter?"

"Uh, surely."

"The other is that there is too much range in 'superhuman strength'."

"Too much range?"

Um, what did that mean?

"I think it's great to break the grip strength meter. You can also break the recording board. I can't do it. But obviously, destroying half the school building or sandwiching the cobblestones in the courtyard is a different level, is it? Don't you think?"

"Of course."

"I thought the former was the activation of the 'superhuman strength' ability. The latter may be the result of 'amplifying' the 'superhuman strength' ability."

"…!"

She widened her eyes at the unexpected words.

"Amplified", "superhuman strength"?"

"That's…"

"It is possible that touching a knife or pinching a stone pavement is another ability, but your body was glowing. But when only "superhuman strength" is activated, "superhuman strength" and "amplification" can be activated together, so I think that there is such a difference in how skills appear."

"I see."

Kusanagi thought that too.

"I think I realized that at the athletic festival. With your power, even I, who only have weak power, can create a column of fire that causes confusion."

She wondered if it was okay for her to be there.

"Konohana-san."

"Yeah... I feel like it's a bit crazy. Your abilities are beyond the person's ability. It's definitely very dangerous because you can't control it right now."

Things that exceed the person's capacity and cause the ability to flee.

Those words surprised her.

It was the same even if there was no talented person around. She revealed another ability of oneself by multiplying it without permission. So what happened at the previous school was an accident.

She realized the danger again and her body trembled.

"Konohana-san."

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

The moment she hugged tightly, Totsuka called out to her carefully.

He lifted her face as if were turned away and tried to reassure her. Totsuka smiled softly, "Okay. Don't tremble."

"Because I am here…"

"……"

"Hey, Yata?"

Totsuka looked back over his shoulder.

Yata, who was sitting in a chair near the couch, noticed and looked at Totsuka, and then looked at her.

"I was telling Konohana-san that we're not afraid of her being here. Yata, you think so too, right?"

"Of course."

Without hesitation, Yata had no problem answering.

"It should be OK."

And his hot eyes went straight through her

"Absolutely, I will protect you."

++++++++++

It was sudden.

"Ha! Kamamoto-kun, summer version!"

The moment she entered the classroom, she was caught by Kukuri, who had been waiting for her, and she was dragged in front of a handsome boy she had never seen.

Brown leather. A soft, lustrous and bright blonde. His eyes, which were melancholy and with slightly sunken corners, were a beautiful sepia color. His nose was smooth, sweet, and well-shaped.

Slim, standout style. The strong confidence, generously exposed collarbone, slim but powerful shoulders and upper arms were very nice.

Who was he?

Before her who was stunned and stiff, Kukuri and Shiro got together and showed his beauty and that line.

She opened her mouth and looked at the handsome boy.

"Kamamoto-kun?! Huh? Hey, really?"

Wait! Because yesterday he was big and now he was normal?

"No matter how much, overnight..."

"Well, I've lost my appetite for the heat since noon yesterday. So when I woke up in the morning…"

(No, no, no, you don't convince me! You can't do it, Kamamoto-kun! It's strange that you lose half your weight in just one night!), she thought.

"Well, what happened to the hairstyle? Kamamoto-kun, you had very short hair."

"Grows fast in summer."

Well again, while it was weird the fact that grew more than 4 inches overnight for that reason, it was absolutely amusing.

"This is the first time for Kuro and Konohana-san. That is amazing."

"Eh? Oh, that's right. Yatogami-kun..."

"But this is already a kind of summer tradition. When Kamamoto loses weight, it means that summer has come."

At Shiro and Kukuri's slow words, she instinctively looked at Yatogami.

No, how about ditching such a great change with "summer tradition"?

Well, ghosts and ghost stories are a summer tradition, and that sentiment may not be wrong.

It means, wasn't everyone worried about it? She was very anxious.

"Hm, Kamamoto-kun. Is your body okay? Aren't you sick?"

"I'm constitutional. It's okay. I don't feel bad; I'm just losing my appetite."

(If this happens even if he can't eat for a day, Kamamoto-kun will disappear if the days when he has no appetite continue.), she thought.

"If so, that's fine, but I'm a little worried."

"Haha, it's fine."

"You won't do anything, right?"

Just in case, she suddenly turned her gaze to Yata, who was sitting by the window.

Yata, who was looking at her with a frustrated appearance, for some reason clicked his tongue at her and turned away from her when he realized that she was looking at him.

"I wonder what I did."

She waved her hand and turned to Kukuri, who left the classroom and involuntarily partied alone.

Yata had been in a bad mood since this morning so he didn't like this, and after all, he could talk about it all day.

Even now, as soon as class ended, he left the classroom with Kamamoto... Should she go home alone? Should she wait as usual?

However, she had no guarantee that Yata would return (on the contrary, he may have already gone), but she stood up with her bag.

With a soft sigh, she left the classroom.

It was a bit strange because they came home together every day.

(What's really going on? Have I done something?), she thought.

If so, it would be difficult to go to HOMRA. She wondered if she should go straight back to the women's dorm today. Or should she go to the library for the final exam?

At that moment when she was wondering and walking alone...

"Konohana-san."

A low, sweet, and very familiar voice echoed down the hall.

She opened her eyes and looked back quickly.

"Can you give me some of your time?"

"Munakata-senpai..."

A pale and refreshing shirt. Light blue bracelet. A shiny and dull saber.

The director of the blue club, Reisi Munakata himself was there, followed by Fushimi and another person behind him.

"I was about to visit the classroom, but I'm glad I didn't get it wrong."

"......"

With a soft smile, but feeling the endless fear, she took a step back.

Then, Fushimi, who saw her, clicked his tongue at her and sighed.

"Hey. I don't know what the red club are telling you..."

"Fushimi-kun."

Munakata stopped Fushimi's words on the way.

And when she looked at him again, he smiled.

"I just want to talk."

She couldn't believe it and shook her head.

"I'm in a hurry, I must go.", she said lying and backed away further.

"Don't say that. I really want to talk. I just want to know what you know about your abilities. That's it. I want to know to handle it quickly when something happens. This is not to put you in danger, much less average students. I promise that I won't force you to do anything."

"......"

"Oh, yeah. What I did was out of order. I should have apologized for it first."

When she quietly returned, Munakata coughed as if he had just realized it and then leaned in slightly.

Naturally, without any ill intention.

She didn't expect him to do that, so she opened her mouth and looked at Munakata in a daze.

"Eh?"

"On the first day of move-in, I apologize for the high pressure attitude in the yard. I'm sorry I told you that you should surrender, as you protected the students in general."

"......"

"I apologize for the fact that Fushimi ran to you at a later date. He acted after thinking about school and you, but as a result, I have given you unnecessary fear. We are so sorry."

Munakatai leaned in even more.

His action was sincere. Suddenly, the fear she felt was relieved.

"Munakata-senpai..."

"If you're busy, let's start over another day. So please let me know."

Perhaps she had an excessive sense of weakness in her initial attitude?

Later when Fushimi spoke to her, she fell, so she thought she was scared.

At that moment, the words were certainly bad, but Fushimi didn't say anything bad. He was only saying the right thing.

Even now. Munakata also said only the right thing.

"Yeah... I feel like it's a bit crazy. Your abilities are beyond the person's ability. It's definitely very dangerous because you can't control it right now."

The words Totsuka said when she elucidated her abilities in that river.

(That's right. My ability is very dangerous.), she thought.

She believed that she definitely should know the school to protect the students.

It was definitely not a mistake.

That's how it is. Not that she wasn't afraid, but she wouldn't run away. She knows, preventable accidents can be harmful.

Taking a deep breath, she took a deep breath and slowly parted her lips.

Suddenly…

"Saya!"

"Ah!"

The window in the adjoining corridor opened with a loud noise.

The moment she rolled her eyes, Yata jumped up and grabbed her hand.

At the same time, he threw her towards him with considerable force.

"Huh? What? Yata-kun?"

But where had he come from? Why was he there?

She was stunned when she started running, as he dragged her away.

"No, Yata-kun!"

"Don't talk! Run!"

"Well, wait! They haven't done anything..."

"Shut up! Run quietly!"

(Huh? Well, wait! They haven't really done anything. I mean, did they just apologize?), she thought.

Lying as she was, she ran down the hall, down the stairs and into the entrance.

Yata finally stopped in front of the shoebox and looked back.

"Come after me... it seems like..."

"Yata-kun..."

"That's it! You're not handling it properly! They don't know what to do!"

"Actually no..."

They were just apologizing to her.

Oh, but she was so happy that he had come for her.

It was warm and happy that someone cared for her and protected her.

She shouldn't be happy. She wondered if she didn't have that qualification... she shouldn't hurt him and make him protect her. Well, she hurt people in her previous school. But the danger of the same thing happening was quite possible, as Munakata said. She was sorry she had escaped from Munakata.

"No, Yata-kun, have you come back...?"

"What? Aren't you going home?"

"Eh? But shortly after class ended..."

"Anna-sensei called me, right? She told me to come after school."

"Ah…"

By the way, she hears him were told that.

"Kamamoto-kun? About that Yata-kun, did you just go to the staff room?"

"Yes."

"So what about Kamamoto-kun?"

As if he had just noticed her words, Yata looked behind her.

"No, leave it."

"Eh? Where? I mean, Yata-kun, where did you come from?"

"As I left the staff room and back to the classroom, I saw you with the blue club."

"ERh?"

It was that?

She looks at Yata confused.

Then, Yata heard that she meets Munakata in the hallway as she left the classroom, and he ran from the staff room to where they were.

When she thought about it, Yata was the one confused this time.

"You did that?"

"That?"

What's that? Did he jump out the window, and he came straight into the hall by jumping out the window?

Wait! The staff lounge and the hall she was in are on the second floor, right?

However, her question seemed unfamiliar to Yata, and he shook his head asking, "What is that?"

"Why…"

"It's parkour. I'm remembering it right now."

"What is parkour?"

"Well, it's a kind of sport. The purpose is' to reach the destination efficiently without interrupting any movement anywhere", Kusanagi-san said."

Was that explanation exactly what he heard from Kusanagi?

"Is it difficult to explain...? Well, it's like flying, running, climbing, balancing and using it effectively to make paths that are not paths."

"Do you want to make a path that is not a path?"

What was that? It sounded interesting.

"So you jump out the window?"

"Yes. Even if you jump off the second floor, you can make a revolution on landing to kill the impact of the landing, and if you think about the angle and kick the wall, you can get to the second floor window as soon as possible. That is my form."

(So ​​literally, you didn't doubt it, you just ran for me? In a place that was a path? To protect me?), she thought.

As a result, Munakata was not trying to hurt her, so it became an excessive defense.

Her face suddenly turned red.

Still, she was happy. She was sorry for Munakata.

But that didn't matter. She was simply impressed. Yata hurried to make his way, for her.

It would be a lie if she said she didn't like that.

"Ah…!"

(Oh, I'm dying of happiness! Yata-kun! I'm so happy I don't know what to do!), she thought.

Perhaps Yata remembered his embarrassment when he turned bright red, blushing and suddenly looking away from her.

And when he rubbed his face roughly, he coughed in embarrassment.

"I'm going home."

++++++++++

A clear blue sky that was high enough to get through.

The clouds were white enough to clump together, the sun was still shining, and the ocean! It was the sea! The great blue sea! Reflecting light on the surface of the water.

Looking at the beautiful mother of life, she was scared because she felt like a tiny person and almost forgot her abilities.

Oh, she couldn't play. Clarifying and controlling her abilities was an urgent task.

But the sea! It was the sea!

Before the end of the term, Kusanagi said: "The guy who got the red dot is excluded from HOMRA. If everyone does the best they can and does not take extra lessons, I will take them to the sea."

The red club was strong when there was a reward! There were no supplementary lessons for everyone. How, even Suoh?

He was talking about "I'll take you to the sea." So she thought it was a day trip, but Kusanagi seemed to be coming to a guest house he knew, so they decided to camp out at sea early in the summer vacation.

When Kukuri heard the story, she was worried, "Will you be okay? You're the only girl.". When she first heard that she would stay, she was a bit surprised.

However, Kusanagi knew about that and said that she had taken her room separately, and everyone was paying careful attention from the planning stage.

As a result, she was excited and happy today.

"That bastard Kamamoto..."

Chitose clicked his tongue when he saw Kamamoto being hit by a reverse wave and flying off.

However, Kamamoto was not the only one who stood out.

"……"

When he frowned, he looked at the white waves that were crashing.

Yata, who usually controls skateboards freely, seemed to be good at surfing, catching waves, and riding horses.

Seeing that figure, several women made a squeaky voice for a while and wondered, "Is it good, right?" "Yes. Good. Let's talk to him."

That... was not very interesting.

That in her way, she didn't care, but it was truly amazing.

"Saya-chan?"

Kusanagi, who had approached her before she was aware, looked at her face in a mischievous way.

"Eh? Ah! Yes?"

"Youth."

"Eh…?"

"Hm, do you want to split a watermelon?"

Kusanagi offered her a blindfold and said, "Saya-chan, let's do it."

"Eh, I?"

"Girls do it while wobbling, it's cute."

When she looked around, Chitose and Dewa were excited.

She thought for a moment, tightened the blindfold and got up.

"So, are you prepared to be defeated by my power?"

Maybe she didn't think so much, they all had a terrifying look at his words.

"It would be nice if the watermelon also kept its shape... Sorry if I squash it. It can be like a small piece of meat and a blood clot. I still can't control it."

They have probably figured it out. They all fluttered like a chill.

"Hey, smash..."

"Now, a piece of meat..."

"Ah... Saya-chan. Maybe you should be guided by the voice?"

"I think that would be better too. Even with a bamboo stick, if my ability was activated, the watermelon could be turned into fine powder. I don't think it's that difficult to turn a watermelon into fine powder."

When she said that, Kusanagi put a blindfold on her.

"And I think the seaside guesthouse is the best setting for a suspense drama. I'm sure accidents can easily happen."

"Well Saya-chan. Are you in a bad mood?"

"Eh? Isn't that the case?"

When she smiled, Kusanagi laughed palely.

"I am scared..."

++++++++++

"It is night."

Totsuka sat upright with a flashlight in one hand.

A great big room where everyone but her sleeps. After that the futon was well placed and they enjoyed throwing pillows.

Sitting on the messy futon, everyone looks at Totsuka with a mysterious look.

"So, let's start a hundred stories."

The lights were off. An impressive sound rang out.

He lit a candle and the story began.

"This is a story from the Taisho era."

(I don't know. After this, I'll have to sleep alone.), she thought.

Actually, she wasn't very good with ghosts and ghost stories.

While she tried not to imagine too much, she listened to Totsuka's story, regretting it.

"Well that's the end."

Totsuka blew out the candles.

The room went dark and he shrugged.

But soon, he turned on the flashlight and Totsuka laughed.

"How was it? Yata."

"Hehehehe, it's fine! No, not at all!"

Yata's voice had a volume setting that's a bit strange. The intonation was strange too. She snapped her eyes open and looked back to her side.

Maybe Yata was also not good with these kinds of stories?

"Oh. I'll do my best this year. Yata."

"I can afford!"

"Because of that, there were a lot of 'uh', right?"

Totsuka laughed and lit a candle.

And when he said, "So next time...", he clicks the flashlight off.

At that moment, her hand was clenched tightly and she was in awe.

(Kya, kyaaaah!), she screams internally.

When she hurriedly looked to her side with a shock that her heart was about to leap out of her mouth, Yata, who turned pale, was holding her hand.

But perhaps unconsciously, the line of sight did not move from Totsuka. He kept looking at him like he was paralyzed.

"......"

His hands trembled slightly, but they were hot and powerful.

He was always nice, but maybe he couldn't help it, he was squeezing her hand so hard it hurt.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes.

She was no longer afraid. That was another emotion.

She would enjoy quietly. Just for her, this time.

And how many times have she been through a scary story? Totsuka suddenly coughed, "Eh? Can you hear me?"

"You can't hold a hand like that!"

"Oh, no, I'm not trying to scare you. Is someone sleeping, snoring?" He said tilting his head.

When everyone spoke, he could hear it for sure.

They all looked at them in amazement.

"Eh? This is…"

"Hm. Maybe…"

Kusanagi stood up silently and clicked on the lights.

The room lit up. For a moment, she looked his narrowed eyes.

"Oh, after all..."

"King... Don't make history a lullaby."

Kusanagi and Totsuka sighed.

Suoh, he was sleeping peacefully with an innocent face like a child.

"Eh? Wasn't that scary? Yata didn't give up either."

"I don't think that's the case. Yata did his best because Saya-chan was there."

Kusanagi looked at her as he said it.

Then he cut the words unnaturally, staring at her hand for a second, two seconds, three seconds.

It seems like he wasn't the only one wondering about it, and they all turned their heads from her and looked at her one after another. Of course, Yata too.

"Uh, aaaaaaaaah!"

At that moment, Yata, who finally noticed that he was squeezing her hand, turned his face bright red and screamed, raising both hands.

"Gyaaaaaaaaah!"

"Oh, he screams more today."

Kusanagi laughed.

When she looked at Kusanagi with a bit of disappointment, Kusanagi looked at her and laughed jokingly.

"Konohana-san, second round, shall we?"

"Second round?"

Kamamoto bowed his head.

"Is night yet to come? There is a cave behind this guesthouse."

Kusanagi smiled and looked at Yata, who turned pale.

"Try your luck, let's do it."

++++++++++

The sound of the waves coming and going. A chorus that was always played.

Unlike the day, the sea lit by the silver moon was surprisingly quiet and mysterious.

The boundary between the sky, the sea and the darkness of night that covered the world was warm, and if you take it easy, you will be absorbed.

"This cave is actually quite a famous psychic place. If there is an accident around here, the corpse will surely flow here due to the tidal flow."

She couldn't understand why he was saying that, but Totsuka seemed to have fun saying it.

"They're not just humans. Big cats, birds, whatever. That's why there's always a soul hanging around here."

"That's why I left 'something' in the back of the cave during the day, so I'd like you to get it in pairs."

"A couple? Won't it take time?"

"Okay. It's not deep. If you rush when it's bright, it's less than five minutes round trip."

Kusanagi laughed looking at them.

However, Yata had a haunted face. Well, so does she.

He may have noticed. Kusanagi smiled and slapped her on the shoulder.

"That?!"

"Yata-chan, I'll forgive you if you cry. If you don't go, why don't you cry?"

"Who will cry?! Okay! This is over here!"

Yata yelled at Kusanagi's bad words.

Oh, he was distraught, but now he seemed to be fired up.

"Homura, group together quickly."

"Saya-chan."

At the same time that Kusanagi said that, Chitose came running with a smile towards her.

"Eh?"

"Oh! Hey! Chitose-san!"

"They're loud! Is it fun with guys? I like that."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Chitose!"

They all parted and spread their hands evenly.

"Eh?!"

"Oh, that..."

"Well that's the way it is."

Kusanagi shrugged and laughed at her surprised eyes.

"Yes, Saya-chan, you must choose, who should be the knight that ventures with you?"

"Eh? But…"

"Guys! Even if you are not chosen, don't hold a grudge!"

Everyone happily responded to Kusanagi's words. Was that really good?

Well, if that was the case...

Along with Kusanagi, she saw Yata, who was fed up with what he didn't like.

"Well then... Yata-kun..."

"Eh?"

Yata looked at her as if he was surprised by her words.

At the same time, the boos that came out from everyone were out of control.

"Eh?! Why am I not a candidate?!"

"Well, you weren't there because she didn't pick the guys who ran."

Kusanagi laughed and patted her on the head.

"I said don't be resentful! Well, that's too many to be a pair!"

At those words, everyone scattered as they said "Tsk."

She looked around and at Kusanagi.

"Hm, was that wrong?"

"What happen?"

"Well, should I have chosen from among the candidates?"

"No. As I said before, there was no such condition."

Kusanagi shook his head and patted her head again.

"This is your night; you can choose your companion. If you think it's Yata-chan, it's fine."

Involuntarily, she looked back at Yata.

The moment their eyes met, Yata turned bright red and turned around as if he was in a hurry.

(Wow…), she thought.

At that moment, she felt so embarrassed that she turned around to hide her cheeks from him.

"Then I'll go first!"

It seemed that the combination had been decided, and Chitose and Dewa waved their hands and entered the cave.

After waiting a while talking about it, two people soon came out.

When they handed what they were holding to Kusanagi, Kusanagi said, "Hmm. Okay."

They were both so light that when he asked, "How was it?", they replied, "It wasn't a big deal. Actually, it's just a normal dark cave."

She was afraid of it.

"I found it useless."

"What? Seriously, it's just a cave with nothing."

(That's why I'm scared of that dark empty cave!), she thought.

She was not afraid of a well-kept, artificially lit cave. But in that case it would no longer be a cave.

However, it seemed that she (and one other person) were the only ones who thought so, and everyone was able to clear the task without problems. Some people even said it was boring.

And finally it was her turn and Yata's.

"Yes, please go."

Yata didn't cry, so she couldn't help it, and he reluctantly walked into the cave while he was kicked out by everyone who smiled.

The flashlight also slightly illuminated her feet. A step forward is a state of darkness.

Only the sound of calm waves and the sound of dripping somewhere resounded.

(Ah! I don't like it! Let's go!), she thought.

"Ah, Yata-kun…"

If she called him in vain, Yata would shake his back.

"......"

"What's wrong?! Don't call me when I have no use!"

"Uh..."

Yes, it was useless.

She just called him, but she couldn't say: "Because I'm afraid, hold my hand.". It was embarrassing!

She wanted to be able to say that kind of thing without calling on the phone.

"Come and see, Yata-kun.". Hmm, she really couldn't do that.

However, her prince was extremely insensitive in that area, and in the end he never took her by the hands, and while she trembled, she walked slowly as she looked around her.

As Kusanagi said, they soon reached the innermost part of the cave.

When she circled the lantern light, she saw a bright red object on a large stone.

When she looked and got closer, she found a bright red marble.

"It is this?"

"That's how it is."

For the moment, she looked around again, confirmed that there was nothing else like that, and he answered yes, and Yata squeezed one of the marbles and it swelled again.

"Then I'm going home!"

"Ah! Wait! No, Yata-kun!"

It was then that she reached out as she was caught by a slippery stone.

Suddenly, the lantern light went out.

"Eh…?"

Suddenly, the field of vision turned black. Even Yata's appearance, who should have been next to her, seemed vague.

"Why?"

She could hear Yata clicking the switch on the flashlight.

That was…

"Ah…"

"Gah!"

Obviously, a voice other than theirs was in the immediate vicinity.

Horror rushed through her back in amazement.

"Ah…"

There was a scream.

No. To be precise, she tried to avoid it. But faster than that, his hot hands tightened on her.

"Let's go out!"

At the same time, Yata's voice echoed. Just as she was, he pulled her tight.

"Ah!"

She wondered how many times Yata pulled her like that and ran.

At times like this, Yata never let go of her, will happen what have to happen.

She already knew. That was why she was no longer afraid.

Yet her heart was beating.

She was excited by the warmth of the hand, the grip and pulling force.

She couldn't see him at the moment, but the reliability of his back running forward had helped her many times.

Although he wasn't good with ghosts, no matter how rushed or scared he was, he couldn't escape on his own. He did not abandon her.

Yata's "shielding" is a reliable practice. He would never betray her.

"Oh, we go out."

"If you run, it's a very short distance. In the blink of an eye, you'll be in the moonlight."

Totsuka was waiting and greeted them with a smile.

"Did you run? Oh, you brought the marbles correctly. Great."

Totsuka received them while Yata was out of breath.

"Well, more than that, a flashlight..."

"Eh?"

"Maybe the battery is dead, it's gone..."

"Huh? It's weird. I just changed the batteries yesterday... Yes. Okay. Then take this flashlight. Replace the batteries again and give it to the last group."

To that end, Yata shook his head.

Totsuka opened his eyes asking, "What?", but he seemed to understand everything when he saw Yata holding a marble in his right hand and holding her hand in his left hand. He reacted and hit Yata's shoulder.

"Wow, I see. Okay. Hey. If the next group can get through, they'll pick up the lantern you dropped."

"Understood."

Kamamoto, who was about to enter, waved as he smiled.

"But they brought the marbles, so the Yata-Saya couple made it too."

"This year's Yata-chan will do his best. Besides, now you can walk hand in hand with a girl in a cave. You have grown up."

As he smiled, Kusanagi patted Yata's head.

"And you are still connected."

Yata reddened his face and released her hand.

"Ah!"

"That's..."

"One step up the stairs from an adult~"

"Oh, that's not why!"

"Well, you guys has been together almost since the first semester, so I'll get used to anything. Do your best in this condition, Yata-chan. That's right. It's not enough to get excited about the backstory next summer."

"Yes, I will be very careful!"

Yata said that to Kusanagi, who smiled.

As he listened to him, she suddenly lowered her eyes to her right hand.

The wind took away the heat she felt.

She wishes the cave was a little longer.

She hated scary things, but if that cave was a little longer.

Then she was enjoying a happy moment that was a bit longer and could forget about everything.

She was able to hold hands with Yata.

[sleepless-rain]

Seijoh’s graduation trip plans

Translator: Leo | Sleepless-rain | Leoppii Editor: Troy  Esaki | Kahluaplusmilk

“Continue on unwaveringly.”

Those were the words that Iwaizumi Hajime had said to Oikawa Tohru, who had stopped to turn back and look at him. It was fall at the time.

“You’re my partner and an utterly amazing setter.”

On this day, Aobajousai High School had lost in the semifinals at the Miyagi representative game of the spring volleyball tournament. And starting from that lost match, the third years were to retire.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa weren’t only the captain and vice-captain of the volleyball club.  They had been together through junior high school and elementary school, more than half of their lives—up until now— was spent together on the courts as partners.

Iwaizumi’s words were blunt, unembellished and held no lies.

“Even if this team changes, that will not change. When the time comes I will take you down.”

Oikawa straightened himself and accepted Iwaizumi’s words of passion and friendship head-on.

“…Bring it on.”

And this story takes place a few months later.

TRANSLATORS NOTE: Please do NOT repost this translation ANYWHERE. If I see the whole thing elsewhere I will stop translating novel chapters and delete this one as well. Sharing small snippets are okay but not the whole thing. Please link back to this tumblr post if you want to share it.

  “I want to eat curry… So how about India?” said Iwaizumi, wiping the sweat off with his arm.

“You serious?”

“The bar is suddenly set way too high.”

Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro grimace, sweat dripping from their chins.

It was followed by, “But I like naan.”

“I totally get you.”

“When you want to eat naan, you drop by the curry restaurant.”

“I don’t get you.”

A stream of consciousness about curry overlapped with one another until Hanamaki cut in, wringing out his towel, “But you know…Hawaii would be good. How about we go snorkeling?”

“That sounds good, ‘specially in this situation. Deciding between curry and the sea, the latter sounds far better,” Matsukawa answered, ceaselessly wiping his sweat and wringing out his towel.

Iwaizumi, who had suggested India clicked his tongue, “Tch.”

It was hot in here.

Actually, rather than hot it was boiling hot. Yearning for the cool blue sea over a curry filled with spices was no surprise.

As to why they were in a highly acclaimed sauna.

                                                            *** 

In their third year of high school, winter.

With no classes to attend and it being a long time since retiring from club activities, the former volleyball club third year members of Aobajousai High School, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa were left in a daze, and with so much free time they made their way around to various large bathhouses.

After making a big fuss over the electricity bath* with a waterfall feature* they headed into the sauna together. While sweating, the brainless discussion of “where would you go for your graduation trip? Assuming that money wasn’t an issue” blossomed: a way to occupy their free time.

“But you know I’d like to go to Las Vegas.”

“Because you want to gamble?”

“But it’s only fun if you actually have money.”

“Ah, there it is: the forbidden word,” Matsukawa pointed out in response to Iwaizumi’s frank reply, but he thoughtfully considered an alternative.

“If it isn’t a casino… there isn’t really any other place I’d want to go there. Okay then… hmmm, ah. Pandas. A tour of the panda’s homeland, China.”

“Well, if its pandas,” Hanamaki replied to Matsukawa’s panda suggestion, clapping his hands together. “Did you know there’s a whole tonne of pandas at the Wakayama Zoo? I saw it on TV recently.”

“Wakayama?”

“Oh, I bet you don’t know where Wakayama is, Iwaizumi.”

“Shut up.”

Wincing at Iwaizumi’s lack of affection, Hanamaki pulled himself together: “Anyway, even my towel has gotten hot so I think it’s about time to get out.”

“Same here, I can’t stand it anymore.” Matsukawa stood up, “What about you Iwaizumi?” he asked.

“I’m staying.”

“Okay, don’t push yourself.”

“Cold bath?”

“Cold bath.”

The two friends agreed whilst pushing open the heavy wooden door and exiting.

Left alone in the sauna, Iwaizumi crossed his arms, staring at the thermometer on the wall. There was nothing else to do.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, sweating buckets until he muttered, “Las Vegas, huh?” before taking his towel and violently wiping his face and his head. “I guess I really am a bit like a kaiju.” He said to himself, standing up and leaving the sauna drenched in sweat and in search of water.

                                                               ***

 After enjoying the baths and the sauna, the three tired boys found themselves in the large tatami room. Lined with tables and sitting cushions the room doubled as both a resting and a dining area.

An old fan swung its neck unsteadily, blowing a breeze in their direction. There seemed to be a TV somewhere in the room, as the sounds of the golf match commentary could be heard faintly. There were people watching the TV with a few beers, people lying down reading the comic books provided, and children playing the games they had brought.

Everyone in this bathhouse resting area was relaxing and doing as they pleased. And as for these three boys, they were testing the limits of their stomachs.

Of course, it didn’t start off as such a vicious scene. It was meant to be a light meal but there was a reason as to why it turned into a bloodthirsty battle.

After getting out of the baths and slipping into the jinbei* resembling pajamas, the three ordered a light meal, curry, and ramen, while resting. The place ran on a self-serve system, where you went to get your food from the counter when the number buzzer you were given went off. However, the pork cutlet curry Matsukawa had ordered still hadn’t been called out.

“You two eat first, or it will get cold and soggy,” Matsukawa, who was lying on the ground reading manga, told Iwaizumi and Hanamaki who had gone and returned with their curry and ramen.

“Then I’ll dig in.”

“Sorry.”

Without holding back the two took their spoons and chopsticks in their hands and began eating.

“I knew it, curry is the best.”

“That’s not even Indian styled curry! You’re okay with that? ”

“Yeah, because it’s curry.”

The boys continued to talk at the table, and everything was still alright. The trouble was yet to come.

Slurping his ramen Hanamaki called out to Iwaizumi beside him, “You were in there for a real long time.”

“Hm?” Iwaizumi responded with the spoon still in his mouth.

“You know, in the sauna.” He replied.

“Oh that. Isn’t that amount of time normal?”

“Are you serious?”

Their conversation ended there. Both of them focusing on the curry and ramen before them. It was just a meaningless conversation however someone reacted unexpectedly.

“Normal, huh…?”

It was Matsukawa, lying on the tatami.

Matsukawa couldn’t let their conversation – Iwaizumi’s “normal” - slip from his ears.

 “‘Normal’ he said. Doesn’t that mean that the two of us that left earlier are weaker than normal?”

 At that moment his buzzer went off beeping.

Matsukawa got up, “Oh, it’s finally done.”

Hanamaki eyed him whilst sipping the ramen broth from his spoon and asked: “Yours is the only one that took so long, what did you order?”

“Me? Pork cutlet curry.”

“Oh, one of those things that take time to fry… wait, that’s not something you eat after getting out of the sauna!? Your stomach must be strong.”

Upon hearing that Matsukawa glanced at Iwaizumi who was drinking water. And as if he were waiting for it, a smug smile crossed his face, “You think so? Having pork cutlet curry is pretty normal.” He taunted, picking up the beeping number buzzer to get his pork cutlet curry, ambling towards the counter. Someone glared at the figure strangely overflowing with confidence.

“‘Normal’… you say?” It was Iwaizumi, spoon in hand. “Normal? Then me eating plain curry means I’m weaker than that?”

The golf commentary from the TV, the manga, the faint breeze blowing intermittently, the curry and ramen, all of it relaxing and warm. This heaven-like peace enveloping the resting and dining area unfolded into a sudden battlefield.  

Iwaizumi stuffed the remainder of his curry into his mouth vigorously before slowly standing up. “I’m going to get extra gyoza,” he said.

Taken aback by the sudden dangerous aura emanating from Iwaizumi, Hanamaki winced “S-sure…”. His hands stopped over his ramen, the atmosphere created by former ace Iwaizumi could have easily been mistaken for the middle of a match.

And soon after Matsukawa returned with his tray of curry.

“Huh, where’s Iwaizumi?”

“Mm? Oh- uh seems like he went to get some gyoza.”

“…I see.”

Seating himself leisurely onto a sitting cushion, Matsukawa took his spoon in his hand and sighed, “Facing off pork cutlet curry with gyoza, pathetic.”

“What? What are you talking about? Both of you have been acting really weird since a while ago! Is this some kind of inside-joke?”

Hanamaki put down his chopsticks without thinking and upon noticing change in Matsukawa’s attitude Iwaizumi had returned with a “hey.” The clear plastic container in his hand contained eight gyoza. On top of that, another box stuffed with 200grams of chicken karaage. Seeing the extra meat, Hanamaki just feigned a smile.

“Hey, I know you went to all the trouble of buying that but I’m full from the ramen, I can’t eat that.”

Iwaizumi didn’t even spare Hanamaki a glance, staring down unblinkingly at Matsukawa who was eating his cutlet leisurely in declaration of war, “All of it is mine.”

Matsukawa stared back, putting down his fork and rising to his feet to accept Iwaizumi’s challenge, “Bring it on.”

“What is it with you guys!? Matsukawa, why are you standing? Sit down!”

The downside of war is that there are always innocents who get dragged in. And without listening to the confused Hanamaki, the pointless battle began.

Thirty minutes had passed. After eating his pork cutlet curry, yakisoba, grilled onigiri, Matsukawa now sat with what he claimed ‘dessert’, slurping down tapioca filled milk tea.

An exhausted Hanamaki asked: “Isn’t tapioca made from some sort of potato, doesn’t that make this more of a food than a drink? Why are you eating little balls of potato after a meal?”

“Because they were selling it.”

“Even if you want to look cool drinking that, you don’t.”

“I’m not trying to look cool.”

“You are! I heard you when you said ‘pathetic’ and all that other stuff. ”

While Hanamaki and Matsukawa were going back and forth, Iwaizumi returned with another plate piled high with freshly made fries.

“Potatoes! More potatoes! Why are you both eating piles of potatoes!? It’s practically another meal! What’s with you two?! My stomach hurts just watching you. I’m begging you both, please stop!”

The bystander Hanamaki had given up and Matsukawa, who was probing for pearls with the end of his straw, and Iwaizumi, who was throwing a handful of fries into his mouth, stopped. They looked at each other and nodded.

“Let stop it here then since you’re insisting.”

“Right.”

“You’re pretty strong.”

“Same to you.”

Hanamaki glanced at the two shaking hands over the good showdown they had had, clutching his stomach and rolling on the tatami groaning, “The damage runs deep…”

Having mercy on Hanamaki, who suddenly gave in, and having come to terms with the power they both held, both of them turned back to the table. Instead of eating at top speed they ate at the pace they pleased, sipping tapioca and munching on fries. This peaceful scene is what you would have called a warriors break.

“I think I ate a bit too much.”

“It’s because we haven’t been exercising recently.”

“I guess so.”

“How about we show our faces at club practice tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

After eating and drinking until they were full, they leant against the wall, satisfied. It was a warm, comforting moment. Taking a hot bath, unwinding in the sauna, eating a good meal, the fan gently carrying a breeze towards them— It was a moment of bliss.

Eyes closed and exhaustion finally settling in, everything was disrupted by music playing loudly through the speakers in the resting area.

“Huh? Seems like something’s starting…” an almost asleep Hanamaki woke up, startled.

“Look at that…!” Eyes wide, he pointed out at the open area outside.

Iwaizumi and Matsukawa stood up to look over.

A low stage had been unknowingly set up, a group of elderly people who had just gotten out of the baths and enjoying a beer gathered around it, microphones held gleefully in their hands. The sound of unknown old men singing enka songs roared through the resting area.

“I didn’t think they’d have karaoke here.”

“I can’t sleep like this.”

“This blows.”

For these three high school boys with little life experience, and it was a little too early to be battling it out in enka songs. Slipping past the old men excited by songs of mountains and waterfalls, death and killing, the three boys shuffled out of the resting and dining area, leaving it all behind.

                                                              ***

Escaping the enka hell the three boys, wearing the indoor slippers, stumbled upon an arcade.

“Oh, they have the alligator game.*”

“Ready for the hunt.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit cruel to hit their heads?”

“That crane game has a PS4 in it.”

“There’s no way you could win it.”

Familiar sounds and music filled the room. The three wandered aimlessly around the to all the old crane machines until Iwaizumi suddenly called out, “Oh! Let’s play this! Have a showdown!”

In front of the eager Iwaizumi was a punching bag machine. But Matsukawa wrinkled his brow at the effort of it all, “No way, I hate these power type games. You’re going to thrash us anyway Iwaizumi.”

“There’s no winning or losing in punching. It’s to test yourself.”

“You said showdown before.”

It seemed like they were about to break down into another fight but Hanamaki, blue-faced, cut in, “Sorry… but I… the moment I use any force I think I’ll have ramen spewing out of my mouth.”

“Don’t wanna see that.”

“If that’s the case, how about we head home? Since we’re tired.”

It was when the three went to check the time that they saw it.

“Oh.”

Hanamaki pointed to the back of the arcade.

“Damn, air hockey!”

“Huh?”

“Oh, it really is! Air hockey! Air hockey!”

At the back of the arcade was an air hockey machine, old and clunky like the rest of the machines.

“Oh crap! How long has it been since we played air hockey?”

“I haven’t played since junior high!”

“Hurry up, let’s play! How much is it?”

“I won’t lose!”

“Who versus who for the first game?”

Wanting to spew ramen from his mouth, whether someone was going to win or lose, all of that was forgotten as the three hurriedly rushed to stuff one hundred yen into the machine. And thus the first round of the air hockey tournament began.

                                                               ***

 “The bathhouse was unexpectedly interesting.”

“We’ve discovered a great place.”

“Right?”

They had eaten to their heart’s content, played around like children before heading into the baths once again to wash off the sweat. With satisfied faces, they headed home on the free shuttle.

“I didn’t even think it would be this interesting.”

“We spent all our money on the air hockey machine though.”

“We exchanged for so many coins.”

After reminiscing the day using only the words “sick”, “seriously”, and “fun” they eventually quieted down. Whether it was the swaying of the bus, the fatigue from the baths, their full stomachs, or the soft orange light of the setting sun filling the bus that had the three nodding off, no one was sure.

 Staring blankly out the window Iwaizumi mumbled, “... If only he had come.”

Upon hearing those words Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s eyes flew open, despite almost falling asleep.

“Huh, by ‘him’ you mean… Him?”

“If you say ‘him’ there’s no one but him.”

“Him… yeah him…”

The three of them exchanged glances nodding in agreement “Him”, “yeah him.” And bursting out into laugher but it only took a moment before they stopped.

“No, it’s better that he wasn’t here.”

“I guess.”

“It would be pretty wild if he were.”

“But he definitely would have stolen the microphone out of the old lady’s hands.”

“Gotta do a duet I guess.”

“And then he’d get a tonne of candy and mikan.”

“Definitely.”

Right in the middle of their heated talk about ‘him’, the phone in Iwaizumi’s pocket rang out.

“Hm?”

Iwaizumi glanced at the notification, letting out an “ugh” and leaning back, the other two asked what it was and Iwaizumi showed them his phone.

“It’s from him.”

It was a message from him – Oikawa Tohru.

“Really?”

“Hell, he might be hiding in here watching us.”

“Surveying us huh.”

Of course, it would have been unlikely, but perhaps it wasn’t with the person called Oikawa. You could say that he was mysterious, or rather incomprehensible, whichever it was he was inexplicably terrifying.

After looking around the windows and the bus to confirm that Oikawa wasn’t there, Hanamaki let out a sigh, “So what did he say?”

“He just asked ‘Whatcha doing?’ Doesn’t he have anything else to do?”

“Tell him we’re in Las Vegas, send ‘In Las Vegas now’.”

“Idiot.”

“That’s stupid.”

While they bantered they took a photo, bathed in the setting sun, and sent it a message along the lines of “Coming back from Las Vegas with Matsukawa and Hanamaki”. And a reply came back immediately, obviously addressed to all three of them.

“Here we go, ‘ Is this Las Vegas at Naruko Hot springs*?’. Why Naruko hot springs? Is it the kokeshi? ” Hanamaki laughed before his expression changed, “Wait how did he know we went to the baths? Is there a place called Las Vegas in Naruko?”

Both Matsukawa and Iwaizumi replied immediately with serious faces, “Of course not.”

“Oh but hot springs sound good too,” Matsukawa added, stretching in his seat.

“Hot springs, huh…That means table tennis and not air hockey.” As Iwaizumi smirked his phone rang again.

“No fair! I want to go!” came another message from Oikawa.

This time Hanamaki replied, “Air hockey warrior Iwaizumi was seriously something.” and a reply from Oikawa came immediately.

“He said, ‘I’d beat him no sweat’. What are you gonna do Iwaizumi?”

“As if I’d lose.” Iwaizumi replied casually, but his fighting spirit burned deep in his eyes.

“This is going to be serious.”

“Yeah.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa looked at one another.

Would there really be another round of the air hockey tournament? Who knows?

 The three of them thought about the days ahead of them on the swaying bus.

For the three years of high school, if not the years of elementary school and middle school, the boys that had spent more time bonding with their volleyball teammates than their parents or siblings, were now about to walk different paths. Away from their schools, their hometown.

 “God, I’m getting bus sick,” Matsukawa said blue-faced and Hanamaki laughed.

“You’re so weak… wait I don’t feel so good either.”

“Don’t look down, look outside!” Iwaizumi pointed, putting his phone away in his pocket.

“What are you going to do about Oikawa?” Hanamaki asked, “You still haven’t replied to his ‘I’d beat him no sweat’ comment.”

“Just leave it.”

The other two laughed at the blunt reply.

“Amazing, he’s not even here and he managed to barge in.”

“His presence is too strong.”

“That’s why it’s a good thing he isn’t here with us.”

As they laughed amongst themselves the bus approached the station. They knew it well, this twilight town they always walked through together. The bus winded through, this small journey was almost coming to an end. As each small journey ends, the days slowly pass by. The match ends, retiring from club activities, graduating from high school.

The time to part ways will definitely come, but this won’t be a problem for them. The time spent together, the sweat and tears they shed, all of it is part of their bodies and souls. Along with the things that they built up together, their strength, technique, confidence, and trust, all these things make up their bodies. And each of them will walk a new path to a place they haven’t trekked.

As all roads are connected, although separated, for now, they will surely meet again. And so for the when they meet again so that they can hold their heads high and laugh, they will continue to take on each challenge.

 How about you?

Are you moving forward?

 A motivation that can only be gained from friends pushes them onwards through fatigue. If friends are what keeps one going when they’re apart, then not having them by their sides will be all right.

 “Continue on unwaveringly.”

That’s all they needed.

                                                               ***

  While the three began to head their separate ways home after hopping off the bus, Oikawa was hunched in the corner of the clubroom staring at his phone, “Why did they leave me on read? Damn it!!”

   TRANSLATION NOTES:

Electricity baths: Pretty much a bath that has panels running down the sides that shoot electrical pulses into the water. I’ve been in one and it’s kind of tingly at first but it feels kind of like a massage if you get used to it. It’s not all that common in Japan so even then it’s a sort of novelty to Japanese people.

Waterfall feature: I didn’t know how to translate this but it’s basically a pipe at a height where the hot water comes out. You can sit under it to hit your back and it’s basically like a waterfall/massage.

 Jinbei: Traditional Japanese top and bottoms. The kind you see babies wear to summer festivals (I guess like a two-piece, yukata top and pants). Made out of a thin material and made particularly for hot weather.

 Alligator game: in English, this game is Alligator hunt, but in Japanese, it’s called (ワニワニパニック) waniwani panicky, alligator panic, Matsukawa follows with a “What a panic” to finish Hanamaki’s sentence but I changed it a bit so English readers could get the reference.

Naruko hot springs: One of the most popular hot springs in Miyagi is also known for their wooden dolls, kokeshi. If you ever go to Miyagi, Naruko is beautiful in fall!!

As a small disclaimer:  I have taken some liberties in translation to make the  novel read smoothly. So please don’t quote specific words as canon. that being said I tried my best to stay faithful to the original.  For this reason I will not allow translations into another language using this as the base text. I apologise to anyone who is keen on sharing it in another language but please do so using the original Japanese text.

Anyway, if you enjoyed this chapter please consider supporting Haikyuu and buying a copy of this novel (volume 11) ! I may consider doing more novel translations in the future!

I do have a Ko-fi so if you do feel like it, please donate!

[burgerkang000]

Email for better love lives

I HAVE A NAME FOR THIS ONE YAAAAAY

im doing the read more thing, cuz u know scrolling ugh

@beyoncesdragon @aixy-hpsa (if anyone else wanna be tagged, let me know!!!)

This is a Yunho fic!

enjoy?

You met San at a compulsory public speaking class, where only you both had to attend for grades; it was filled with nerds who came voluntarily. And your bond begin with bored out glances at each other and loud sighs exchanged. And after that you guys hung out a lot, went to get coffee while doing homework, caught rides with each other, and waved whenever your paths crossed.

You met Yunho when San wanted you to meet his friends that he wouldn’t stop talking about, which made you slightly jealous; you yearned for a bond like that. You pushed that thought away, nothing good comes with jealousy. And while San and his friends would go about their own business, you would stick to the side-lines, not knowing what to say or do, even though they try their best to include you.

Yunho would be the one to keep you company, actively telling you about his day and attentively listen when you were asked about yours. He would also help you study and take you out to grab coffee when San would be too busy.

Anyone would be a fool to not fall for Yunho, with his smile that make his eyes crinkle at the corners, teeth on display, fluffy hair. Who wouldn’t fall for him, at least you could keep it inside, and no one had to know.

“Look at Yunho in this picture, he looks so handsome” San shows you the pictures from your quick break before the exams to the arcade. You take a glance, damn. You know that the moment you open your mouth, you’re screwed.

“Hmm”

“I don’t like it when you’re vague” 

“Yes Yunho is cute” That’s all you plan on saying anyways, but you had to panic, because what if San thinks you’re not commenting on it too much and picks up that you’re crushing on Yunho? Ok, so you were overthinking.

“Too cute that it’s impossible he exists, I mean I see him every day but it’s not like I believe he’s real, there is a limit to being cute and all. I mean a recreation of a Greek god- I mean he should be a Greek God himself-”

You were cut short by San’s exploding laughter and as you voice your confusion to him, he still laughs until you violently shake him-

“Yah! Why are you laughing?”

He finally calms down enough to tell you-

“Just say you have a crush on him”

You open your mouth to deny-

“Admit it~” He says scrolling through his phone again.

You huff out, San was your best (read: only) friend, it wouldn’t hurt to tell him, so you nod the tiniest bit, and San grins from ear to ear.

“I mean, I didn’t see it coming, but when you started rambling off like that, it was obvious.”

You sigh.

“You tell this to anyone, I will personally murder you”

“Sure sure”

And after that, he thankfully let you change the topic.

 .

.

.

Ever since then, whenever you’d meet Yunho, right after that, you’d whip out your phone to text San; something vague like-

“He’s wearing a red sweater”

“He dyed his hair blue!”

“Kill me”

And then you’d go home and text San about how a person; a human, cannot simply be so beautiful, and ramble off about him.

 .

.

 .

“But sir, I don’t have an email” You tell the professor, who has just asked to submit your assignment by mail.

“Don’t whine to me, and make one, is there a student your age without email? How do you have social media accounts?”

“I don’t have them” you reply

“Just make one, it’s extremely useful, and won’t take much of your time” He said, in a brushing off manner, guess he doesn’t believe you.

You nod and sigh as you leave to the next class. If you can’t whine to your professor, you can whine to Yunho. Who listens to the whole thing like the god damn angel he is, and as you open your phone to create one, he gently coaxes it out of your hand, asks you if it’s okay if he creates one for you instead and when you nod he turns his attention to the phone, while you’re just dumbly staring at your hand, where Yunho’s hand made contact with yours.

“Look, I sent my self a mail using yours, lets chat on mail for a while, you can get used to it” He says, you nod, and talk for a while, and then Yunho had to go. You wave at him while he leaves and you text San.

“What’s your mail?”

And when you finally get it, you send him a mail.

URGENT: JEONG YUNHO TOUCHED MY HAND, I REPEAT JEONG YUNHO TOUCHED MY HAND, MOM COME PICK ME UP PLEASE.

I MEAN HE WAS FABULOUS TODAY TO, IF IT WASN’T OBVIOUS; HIS HAIR WAS SO SOFT I CLIKED A PIC, LOOK:

[Image attached]

DO ME A FAVOUR, WHEN I DIE, SIT ON THE VERY SAME CHAIR HE’S SITTING ON, LOOK AT THE SAME DEIRECTION HE’S LOOKING AT AND BURY ME THERE, WHILE YOUR AT IT PRINT THIS ON MY GRAVESTONE.

WHEN I DIE PLEASE TELL HIM I LOVE HIM IN THE OTHER WAY.

BYEBYE

Later that day you get a reply from San saying that you’re too dramatic and an email from Yunho, which you didn’t think much about the time. He was the one who wanted to talk in mail, so you open it and-

And you realise you accidently send it to him too.

*cue freak out*

“So I must have send it to him too-” San blinks at you for a while and then-

Laughs at your face saying random things like

“This is gold”

“Nonononono”

“Never in my life- never”

At this point, you think he’s just spewing English vines that he’s been watching a bit too much to be considered healthy. And now you’re overcome with sadness, and as soon as he notices, he starts apologising and you bow you head, you think you look like a rag doll, and then cry. And san runs circles on you back, occasionally tucking strands of hair behind you ear and wait till you finish.

After a good while of snot- running type of crying, puffy eyes and ringing ears, you start to ramble, a habit that got you here in the first place.

“I don’t think I’m ready for rejection, I mean I was perfectly fine watching him from the side-lines. Heck I would watch him get married and I’d probably say nothing, like I’m not dying inside, proceed to get married, I’m crying tears of happiness-”

“What makes you so sure that he’s going to reject you?”

“I don’t know ok? But this isn’t a movie, he sees me as a friend and I had to go and catch feelings for him.”

San sighs.

“So, what’re you going to do now?”

 .

.

.

It was hard, but you finally managed to blackmail San to help you avoid Yunho situations.

“And how long do you plan to do this?”

“Until my plane ticket and Visa to Alaska are approved and I change my name to Veronica Fall”

He looks at you, and the look speaks for itself, you’re being dramatic. You raise your arms in mock surrender and flop on top of the bed.

“Tomorrow everyone is hanging out, Yunho will be there, you coming?”

You pointedly grin at his cheeky expression, and he mimics the way you had surrendered just a few moments ago.

 .

.

.

You stare at the response you had given to all the missed calls from Yunho.

I’m busy

Sorry, I was showering

I’m going to be busy for a while.

And you watch as the three dots move, and then stop and then move again, you feel as if your heartbeat moves along with those dots, stopping when it disappears, and then finally a response.

We need to talk, I gave you your time, and it’s not fair.

You feel like this is a new side of Yunho you haven’t seen, an assertive one. And you realise, just because you’re a coward, doesn’t mean that you can leave Yunho in the dark, even though you have fears of Yunho leaving you, getting awkward; deep down, you know, that Yunho, he’d never treat your feelings as something useless. And that makes you feel more in love.

And who knows unrequited love may not be so bad, maybe, just maybe; for Yunho it might not be so bad.

Fine

After sending the last text, you get up to clean the place, take out boxes littered about, and books and papers all lying about that you haven’t cared to put away. You do the dishes, and tie your hair into a pony, you’re distracting yourself from the real problem of facing him, for now you let yourself do it; later, you can scream at yourself.

And a right when you reach for the broomstick that you had tucked in deep behind the storage room; you hear a knock at your door.

You don’t think much about it, until you open the door. Low and behold; Yunho was standing at the doorway, a determined look on his face and he walks past you into the house.

You can’t help but think; geez, come on in. But you’re just salty.

And he opens his phone and shows it at your face, too close to read, practically in between your eyes, its touching your nose too. And you’re the dramatic one.

“Explain; explain this email, that was, I figure, supposed to be sent to San, explain why you’ve been avoiding me and my calls, and wherever I go right after I replied to this, I’m not going or letting you go until you do.”

And his voice cracks at the end bit, but you don’t notice, you’re in a bubble of thinking; thinking how to phrase this, just overthinking; maybe.

And moments which feel like hours pass, and you decide to do this the ripping off the band aid way. But it turned out more like the ramble it off way

“I like you? No, no that came out wrong… I love you? Yes, I’m pretty sure I love you, and don’t worry I know you’re not into me that way-”

And you don’t know what really happened; there was a hand on your face, right under your nose, and he was right in front of you.

“Sometimes, everything you say is nonsense.” He breathes, you open your mouth to respond, and he applies more pressure with his palm, to keep you quiet. You can’t help but think of the way your lips mouthed at his palm, not the time; not the time at all.

And then he continues.

“You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that, the moment I got that email, it took me a few minutes to understand, but when I did, I already pictured our five adopted cats, not gonna lie”

Your eyes widen in shock, did he just indirectly say he like you back, in the form of cats? This is why you fell for him in the first place.

“Did I creep you out? I must have creeped you out, forget I said that.”

And you laugh behind his palm, and he slowly removes it, moves it to your shoulder, drags it down the length of your arm, and interlocks it with your hand, a sweet smile on his face, the contagious one, so it’s only law that you smile back, teeth and all, since you can’t hold it back.

“We should go on a date.”

“That; we must.”

.

.

.

You were on one of your many dates, too wind up in each other to not notice the others who also wanted to hang out with you, you totally kept the news from San; you and Yunho are in this together, so he needs to also be comfortable with telling San, after a lot of thinking, you both settle on letting them find out, which may take years to get in their daft heads, but for now, you both have put fate in them.

 .

.

.

San caught on way too quickly, the moment you enter the café and sit down, he says-

“So you’re not moving to Alaska? Or is your husband; Yunho moving with you?”

You blush and look down-

“Look, I can explain-”

And he breaks into a wide grin,

“I’m happy for ya”

.

.

.

You and Yunho were scrolling through many of the messages you have send to San; the ones fawning over Yunho, as much as he likes to get you flustered, he himself also gets flustered, so it’s a win-win situation.

“They haven’t caught on yet” you suddenly say.

It’s true, other than San none of them have caught on yet that you both have been dating, and that’s kind of weird, since it’s been almost a whole year.

But it’s not like you’re gonna sit them down and tell them. You and Yunho have a better plan.

Well you have a better plan.

“-and they walk in on us!”

“…..”

“Or not?”

“No”

You end up inviting them over for dinner, and as they take their first bites, you happily chirp in that you’re dating and Yunho adds that you’re moving in with, leaving everyone to choke on their food, except San, who had a cocky expression, which soon turned into a choking fit, who’s cocky now?

And Wooyoung looks up, and goes “Wait, you’re serious” and continues choking, this time on nothing.

 .

.

.

[kaoru-takaida]

MHA Collab Fanfic

CHAPTER 3: The Meaning of Strength

When the bus stops at the rest stop, two Pro Heroes with cat outfits reveal themselves to the class. Ones Kaoru is very familiar with. Both Kaoru and Midoriya gasp in excitement. "Oh wow! My Uncle is a big fan!" Kaoru tells Bakugou. Bakugou seems distracted however. "Hm?" Kaoru looks over at him. "Is something wrong?"

"Why'd we stop in the middle of nowhere?" He asks. Before they knew what was happening, the other students were bolting towards the bus.

"Eh?" And in the blink of an eye, all of Kaoru's classmates had been swept over the cliffside by a wave of dirt and earth. Even Kaoru lost their footing but before they could stumble over the cliff, Aizawa uses his capture scarf to snag Kaoru. It winds around them and he yanks Kaoru back up, holding them up like a fish on a hook. "Mr. Aizawa?"

"Before you go off with the rest of them, I need to have a little chat with you." He says. Kaoru keeps a perplexed look on their face. He holds up his cellphone showing multiple missed calls. "Your uncle has been trying to call me… consistently…"

Kaoru grimaces nervously, recognizing the number. "He left a message saying he wanted you to come back home. Be honest, should I listen to him?"

Kaoru looks away for a second. "I, uh." They hesitate. "I'm not sure what you're asking." Kaoru replies.

Aizawa sighs. "I'm asking if there's a reason why he'd be worried and whether or not I should drag you back by force."

Kaoru clenches thier fist. Down on the ground as everyone fights a dirt clod created by Pixie Bob in the form of a beast, Bakugou and Kirishima take a second to look up at the cliff where Aizawa has Kaoru dangling by his scarf, talking. He scowls. "Wonder what they're talking about." Kirishima says. Bakugou scoffs.

"Like I care." He says, looking for the next threat. He charges into the fold. Kirishima takes one last glance at Kaoru and Aizawa and follows Bakugou.

Aizawa's eyes are wide at Kaoru's explanation. They give him a look that he can only place as a mixture of concern, sadness, and pleading. "You're kidding me…" He says.

Kaoru's scowls a bit now. "Mr. Aizawa… " Kaoru clenches their fists at their side. "I… want to be a Hero. I want to get stronger, train harder." They look at the ground below them. "I would be on my hands and knees begging you, but…" They look up at him, eyebrows pursed. "Please, sir, let me stay."

Aizawa looks at Kaoru for a good long moment, contemplating what to do. This kid… He closes his eyes now. "Alright. I'll call and let him know you're staying." He looks off at the distance, no doubt where the camp base was in the middle of the forest. "Besides, you're as safe as you're gonna get. Only a select few knows where we'll be." He gives Kaoru one last look. "Not even the League should be able to find us"

Kaoru sighs in relief. "Thank you so much." They say, bowing their head a bit. Aizawa gently lowers Kaoru to the ground below.

"Now get going." He orders.

They nod, giving him a determined smile. "Yes, sir!" They say. Kaoru runs off to catch up with their classmates. Aizawa rubs the back of his neck watching Kaoru a moment.

I'll have to keep my eye on them… He thinks to himself. His cellphone starts to ring and he looks at the number. "Of course."

Kaoru tries to keep their cool, but can't help but feel their blood boil at the thought of their uncle harassing their teacher. They sprint through the forest. I don't care what Uncle thinks. Kaoru spots a huge dirt clod monster as they catch up with the other students. They activate their Quirk, sprinting even faster as energy builds within their fox paw feet. They spring upward and drop onto the dirt clod monster's head. An explosion rings out and a small puff of flames makes the beast's head burst as Kaoru kicks down on it with both paws. I WILL become a hero. No matter what. Kaoru flips backward and lands on all fours with a soft landing. The beast crumbles away. They watch as the chunks of dirt fall. And then I'll find out the whole truth behind my existence.

After reaching the camp a little after 5pm, Kaoru collapses next to Kaminari and Sero. Kaoru pants, exhausted, covered in dirt, sweat, and blood. Sero and Kaminari give them a wide eyed look of surprise. "Wow, Kaoru. You really pushed yourself out there, huh?" Sero asks. Kaoru sits up, tucking their legs under them and their skirt.

"Yeah." They take a deep breath, wiping dirt from their cheek. "My Quirk only allows me to amplify my output of energy by combining my own strength with the energy I take in. As a result, endurance matches and drawn out battles aren't really my forte."

Kaminari puts a hand to his chin. "I guess that makes sense. Even your Quirk has its limits."

Aizawa walks up behind the three of them. "Kaoru's limit is a bit easier to hit than the rest of you students." Aizawa explains. "Over in the U.S., few schools tailor their teaching of Quirks individually like we do." Kaminari and Sero frown. "Instead they'll focus on what all Quirks have in common and teach in ways that everyone could benefit." Aizawa puts a hand out, gesturing to Kaoru who doesn't look too pleased remembering this fact. "Think about it as the difference between regular school and prestigious academies. Kaoru, having only studied in regular education for a year and being home schooled a majority of their life, is severely behind compared to the rest of you."

Kaoru's ears drop down and they give a bitter and embarrassed glance to Sero and Kaminari. "I had to study like crazy to pass the special transfer exam for U.A." Kaoru admits. "It was the only thing I focused on for months. And my uncle practically beat the lessons into me. And then, I still had to keep in shape and focus on my Quirk for the physical aptitude exam."

Aizawa nods. "In the physical exam, there was a lot of wasted effort and things that could definitely be improved on." Kaoru glances at Kaminari and Sero. Then they look around at the rest of the class.

He's right. Everyone here is ahead of me by a whole semester. They've survived the USJ attack where they had to fight for their lives with villains. Kaoru looks down at their hands on the ground. And then they all proved how skilled and talented they were in the sports festival. I need to catch up, or else I'll be left behind. Kaoru pouts a bit, looking away.

Kaminari looked up at Mr. Aizawa. "That's right. Kaoru mentioned something about taking a special physical practical exam before. I'm curious. What exactly did that mean?" He asks.

Aizawa smiles now with a scary, almost sadistic smile. "They had to go toe to toe with yours truly to see if they were worthy to pass." Kaoru grimaces and tenses, shuddering at the memory.

Sero and Kaminari give them a panicked look. "That sounds horrifying!" They say in unison.

Kaoru sighs to themself, leaving the girl's room. After carrying their stuff in, they were starving. "Hey, idiot." Bakugou's voice says. Kaoru sees him walking toward them, hands in his uniform's pants pockets. Just like them, Bakugou was all battered and bruised from fighting the monster dirt clods in the forest. Kaoru's eyes light up.

"Oh. Bakugou. Got all your stuff in the boys' room?" Kaoru asks.

Bakugou scoffs. "Of course I did. It was a piece of cake." Kaoru blinks as he grows quiet. "I wanted to say that you didn't need to defend me when Aizawa was about to punish me the other day."

Kaoru purses their eyebrows. "But, Bakugou, that was all my fault. You didn't deserve to be punished."

Bakugou sighs. "I did. I acted like an ass. So…" He scowls. "Just take it, okay?"

Kaoru cocks an eyebrow, tilting their head to the side, ears perked. "Take what?" Kaoru asks after a few seconds of awkward silence . "I'm confused."

Bakugou purses his lips into a small frown, looking a bit irritated. "I... didn't need your apology either… Not when I was the one who needed to apologize first. But you went and did it anyway. Just like how you defended me." He says softly.

Kaoru's eyes widened with realization. He's trying to say "thank you", huh? Kaoru smiles a small smile. And trying to apologize, too… What a weirdo. He can't just say it, can he? Kaoru thinks. "Oh. I see." Kaoru gives him a bigger, brighter smile. "Yeah. You're right. You didn't need me to. But I did anyway."

Bakugou's eyebrow twitches slightly and he grimaces. "What's with that stupid look on your face?" He hisses.

Kaoru laughs lightly. "Oh. It's nothing."

Bakugou scoffs again. "Whatever, dumbass." He turns and waves for Kaoru to follow. "Anyway, those weird cat ladies are serving dinner. Let's get some food before there's none left, moron."

Kaoru catches up to him. "You know what! To make it up to me, why don't you let me call you Kacchan?"

"What?! No way in hell!"

"Aw. Please?"

"I said no."

"Pretty please?"

"Ugh. If I let you, will you leave me the hell alone?"

"Probably not."

"Then the answer is still no!"

"Nah, I think I'll call you Kacchan anyway."

"Do it and I'll kill you!"

"Haha!"

"So, why do you want to be a Hero?" Kaoru asks Bakugou. He stops eating, halting his chopsticks.

"Huh?"

Kaoru smiles. "I'm curious. What made you want to be a hero?" Kaoru takes a sip of their tea. "I can't really imagine you wanting to be anything else. So it makes me curious."

Bakugou scoffs. "Why would I tell you that?" He says, taking another bite, clearly dodging the question. Kaoru shrugs and takes a bite of their own rice. Bakugou looks over, chewing his food quietly. He swallows and then very nonchalantly asks. "What about you?" Kaoru looks up at him, mid chew. They point to themself. "Why would you want to be a hero?" Bakugou asks.

Kaoru considers it a moment before swallowing their food. "I… can't really explain it." Kaoru begins. "A part of me just yearns to be a hero. And then another part of me wants to be strong." Kaoru places their bowl onto the table. They look around to double check if any of the other students were listening. They were all going about with their meals. It was just Kaoru and Bakugou at this table, so Kaoru sighs a bit before looking at him. "To be honest, this is a secret, but I've been running from something big for as long as I can remember." Bakugou's eyebrow clenched into a concerned scowl. Kaoru looks down at the scars on their hands. "A group of people are after me from what my uncle told me. I… actually have no memory of my childhood. The first memory I actually have is of the night my uncle found me."

"Found you?" Bakugou asks.

Kaoru nods. They smile a sad smile. "My uncle is actually my adoptive parent. My guardian." Kaoru closes their eyes. "I guess he found me in a very very dangerous situation, and saved me before I could be killed." Kaoru clenches their fists. "I don't remember much. But he took me in and took care of me." Kaoru smiles a sad smile at Bakugou now. "I want to be a Hero who can save people. The way my uncle saved me."

Kaoru leaves the girl's locker room at the hot springs. They'd decided to turn in early, but is caught by surprise as Mr. Aizawa walks up to them. "Teacher…" Kaoru says.

He points behind him with his thumb. "You have a moment?" Moments later, Kaoru and Aizawa are seated in the lobby area. Aizawa hands Kaoru a canned coffee with milk and sugar from the vending machine.

They give a little bow with their head before taking it. "Thank you, teacher." They say. Aizawa pulls a chair back and sits across the table from them. He opens his own can of black coffee and takes a sip. Kaoru opens their own can and takes a sip.

"The other students have a general idea of how to progress their Quirks." Aizawa begins. "I pulled you aside to ask you how you'd like to improve yours." Aizawa sets his can down on the table now. "It's important because what you do to improve your Quirk here will greatly impact how you use it in the future. And coming from a schooling system that lacked individuality, you're far behind in the progression of your Quirk compared to the students here." Kaoru rubs the side of their coffee can with one finger, looking rather discouraged. "I'm not saying this to make you feel inadequate. U.A. accepts only the best and brightest. And you got in with flying colors." Kaoru doesn't respond, looking very upset. Aizawa lifts his eyebrows slightly. "Do you need help finding a way? Or…" He then gives them a concerned look. "Was there something bothering you?"

Kirishima walks away from the boy's locker room towards the lobby. He stops, hearing voices. "I'm sorry I'm causing so much trouble." Kaoru's voice says. Kirishima stays put, just around the corner, curious. "It seems like that's all I've been doing since I transferred to U.A."

Aizawa shakes his head. "With a school and class like the one you're in, things are bound to get complicated and hard." Aizawa crosses his arms. "Think you can tell me why you're really in U.A.?" Kirishima cocks an eyebrow. "You told me about a group of people who are after you." Kirishima feels his heart sink.

People are after Kaoru? Should I be eavesdropping? I mean in retrospect, eavesdropping isn't really all that manly but…

"But having seen the news about the USJ incident, directly involving our class, why did you choose class A?" Aizawa asks Kaoru.

Kirishima's interest is piqued further by the question. He holds his ground, his back against the wall. He's talking about the League of Villains attacking the USJ. He's right. If people are after Kaoru, why'd they decided to join our class specifically knowing they might be put in danger? Kirishima wonders.

Kaoru swallows hard. Looking down, their eyes hidden in shadow. "I want to get stronger to become a Hero." Kaoru says. They grip their pajama pants now. "My uncle doesn't want me here because he thinks I'm in danger and that I can't take care of myself and that I need protecting. But…"

When Kaoru doesn't finish the sentence, Aizawa presses them. "'But'?"

Kaoru looks up at Aizawa, scowling. "I want to be strong! Like All Might!" Aizawa's eyes widened. Kirishima feels his jaw drop. "I'm tired of not being able to do anything to help or even be able to fend for myself!" Kirishima chokes a bit, those words sinking in and making him see Kaoru completely differently. Someone he could relate to. "I want to save people, and do so without needing to be saved myself!" Kaoru clenches their fists. "All I've ever known is being protected and cared for by Uncle. But I don't want that anymore." Kaoru grasps at their hoodie, at their heart. "I want to be able to take care of Uncle too! To be strong enough to take care of others and save others!" They look away, a bitter look on their face as they clench their teeth, the grip on their shirt tightening. "But I can't do that if I'm weak and need to be saved or taken care of." Kaoru lifts a fist with their free hand. "I want my power to be used to save others and help the ones who need it. I want my power to be used to be a Hero." Kaoru smiles. "I chose class 1A because I saw how your students were in the Sports Festival."

Aizawa gives Kaoru a questionable look. "The Sports festival, huh?"

Kaoru nods. "I heard your commentary and saw how determined Class 1A was. That's when I decided to join this class. I saw this class, and wanted to be right there with them all." Kaoru claps their fist into the palm of their hand. "I want to see them become heroes too! And I want to be a hero!"

Kirishima can't help but smile to himself at hearing this. We're pretty similar in more ways than I thought. Kirishima thinks. Kirishima decides to walk away now, satisfied with hearing Kaoru's declaration and resolve. Hearing Kaoru say those things makes me even more determined to improve. He clenches his fists, lifting them up, looking at them in front of him as he walks. I know they said they prefer neutral or female pronouns but I gotta admit. That speech of theirs was pretty manly. He drops his fists, walking towards the boy's room. I can't let them show me up! I'll get stronger too! I can't wait!

Back in the lobby, Aizawa gives the fox girl an intrigued grin. "There you go." He tells them. "That's the conviction I needed to see from you." He points at Kaoru. "So do you know how you want to improve?"

Kaoru nods. "Yes, sir!" They smile at him. "Thank you, Teacher." They look down at their hands. "I guess saying things out loud like that can help you work through a problem. I'll have to remember that."

Aizawa nods. "Your teachers and I want you and all of your classmates to succeed to become the best heroes you can be. Just remember that." Kaoru nods. He sighs. "For you… that starts with calling your Uncle."

Kaoru gives him a spacey look, completely not expecting that. "Eh?"

Aizawa gives Kaoru a threatening glare. "For the love of God, call that man and get him to stop calling me."

Kaoru shivers, cowering a little, their ears pulled back in fear as their tail tucks between their legs. "Okay. W-Will do, sir."

[blackssuunn-mandoandyodito]

Tabaco y Brea

Part 7

Pairing: Javier Peña x female! DEA reader

Warnings: angst, brief mention of sex, embarrassment? If you think I should add something, let me know

Summary: Javi thinks about everything that led both of you here, and worries about what Escobar said.

A/N: well here it is! I hope you enjoy it. I wrote another part before this one that has, mmm, smut, I'll post it but I'm not sure when, keep an eye out. Also, I changed some things shown in the series a little bit, but nothing major. Thank you for reading!

Note: this is slightly edited, just a few format stuff.

Masterlist•Chapter 6• AO3 account

If you were to ask Javier what his craziest years have been, he wouldn’t even hesitate to tell you with certain fondness in his eyes, that both 1979 and 1980 were close to his breaking point.

When he arrived in Colombia in the early 70's, he didn't expect to get so attached to the land, to the people. Often, he came off as an asshole who was only there to do his job and fuck his way through Colombia. And usually, he had no problem with portraying that facade. It made everything easier, no one tried to mess with him or get close. He could sit silently on his desk and smoke as much as he wanted for as long as he desired, no one but the big bosses would mess with him. He was always in his own world.

The real world though, felt like it was falling apart every day, without thinking about stopping or at least slowing down. Javier always felt like he had to put it back together, which was ironic because if he wasn’t able to keep himself together, how much could he do for the world?

Everything had a dual perspective for him since the day he arrived. Knowing two languages gives you a certain advantage that changes slightly the way you see things. Sometimes the differences were strikingly wide, and sometimes he couldn’t tell the two apart. The way foreigners saw things was colder, insensitive. The locals felt things, mourned, and thought more about the people than politics.

Javier was always torn between the two. He was a foreigner but always tried his best to not act like one. That didn't stop him from fucking up greatly multiple times though.

Once, while he's looking at some pictures of a roadhouse, the sound of the Ambassador arguing with someone over the phone reaches his ears.

'And what the hell am I supposed to do with a girl who's mom is FBI? I have enough petulant bullshit to deal with Javier here"

That makes him frown. Is he really that annoying?

"I don't give a fuck if she was the best of her class, I don't need more agents."

It's not usual to hear the Ambassador swear, so Javier knows it must be something that really bothers her if she's so angry.

Trying not to alert anyone else about it, he sits more straight and leans his head slightly towards the Ambassador's office, trying to hear better.

"If you're gonna send her anyways, why the fuck did you bother to call me then?" There's a short pause. "Well thanks for the courtesy between agents, it's no fucking help. Goodbye."

Silence settles over the office again after that, and Javier didn't find out much anyways so he doesn't dwell on it and keeps reading about the new Narco that's growing quickly over México, with base in Nuevo Laredo. Something about it tells him it’s tied to Escobar in some way.

Days later, he finds out he's going to have a new partner. 

He doesn't care too much either. His partners always run away after some months. No one can handle this war for too long, and he's not sure how he's pulling through it. It weighs heavy on his shoulders. It makes him wake up sweaty from a nightmare, scares any kind of hunger away, reminds him why he should never get attached to anyone everyday. And still, he's doing much better than the people he's supposed to be helping. Several times he feels close to losing hope, to giving up. Every morning he wakes up, looks at the mirror and wonders what he's doing, why he's doing it. He's breaking, falling down, giving up. He wants to run away but it feels like betrayal, to just drop everything and go back to Texas as if nothing happened. He wants to, but knows he won't be able to live without guilt every day of his life. 

The guilt, the sorrow, everything is suffocating him. There's not a day when fresh air fills his lungs, the gun tucked inside his jeans feels like it weighs a ton and nothing makes sense anymore. He's working on autopilot.

And then you arrive. That pretty, smart girl from the Ventura Q of the DEA, top of her class, arrives and twists his entire life.

You, with your bright eyes and your bright smile and your love for life. With amazement showing in your features when you look at the city once he takes you to a viewpoint. You, with the little sounds of pleasure you make when you're eating something he bought for you to taste. With the addiction you have for dancing he knows came from your close relationship with your father. You, with your giggles and your little screams when he takes you to see The Shining.

You, with the love for little things he has never felt before.

And he's not a man who cares about many things, if he's being honest. He didn't know how overwhelming love feels, how it changes the way you see life once the sensation of pure ecstasy and happiness fills you and pumps through your veins.

But, once, as you both read through the reports of other agents after a raid, he stops for a second and turns to look at you.

And fuck if what he feels in that moment doesn't scare him shitless. 

It's not even a special moment. You're just frowning and circling a lot of things with a pink marker as you huff. But you manage to look like something his imagination would create to try and pull him out of self pity while doing so, tired from hours of nonstop working but still shining like a star, as marvelous as a work of art. Maybe something beyond that, something he doesn’t have a word for. He knows you're real because someone as dark and twisted as him could never create something as astonishing and beautiful as you.

 He shouldn't feel anything, he knows it's a stupid decision to pay attention to the feeling inside his chest.

But he does, he pays attention, and it's whispering this is how love feels. This is what you've been missing. 

Needless to say, it takes his breath away.

He falls in love.

He falls in love, without brakes or any kind of control that could stop him from doing so. He lets himself fall in love, embraces it but doesn't do anything about it. He yearns, he aches. He cries sometimes. He laughs others. He gets drunk and sings the songs the guys at Texas used to play when he still was the Deputy there. He still can’t sleep, but now there are entirely different reasons behind it. 

Sometimes, when he feels really good and he has a good day, he indulges in domestic fantasies that he knows won’t ever happen because he most likely won’t make it out alive from this mess. If the probability was small before, now that he has someone to lose and therefore protect, the probability is practically non-existent.

No, he doesn't do anything about it, but he refuses to let go of the feeling. It helped him see there are still things worth living and fighting for, after all.

And it comes to bite him in the ass when he hears Escobar shout "me saludas a tu papi" (say hello to your daddy for me) at you when he almost dies just after days of tension between you two, after he fucked up in Cali.

Why did he have to fuck up in Cali, of all places? Couldn't he fuck up in Medellín?

Then he fucks up a little more. In for a penny, in for a pound.

----

"Have you ever been in love before?"

Asking those words after what you've just done seems out of place. Asking the man you just fucked through the mattress if he knows about love comes as almost rude, but aren't nights supposed to be for this kinda thing?

Javier shakes his head. "No, I don't think so." he answers, voice low and tired. "I was gonna get married, but I don't think I loved her."

You prop into your elbow, turning to look at him. "What happened?"

He closes his eyes and takes a drag from his Marlboro. "She told me she was pregnant just to tie me to her. The day before the wedding, she called me," his voice turns bitter and somewhat disappointed, "and said she had gotten her period. I fled from there and drove without stopping for fear of her brothers following me."

You know who he’s talking about. Lorraine isn't someone he talks about much, but when he does it's never with a good tone, though never anything rude. Javi isn't much of talking anyways.

You nod and plop back to the bed. Silence fills the room again, hot and foggy from the sweat you worked up to with your activities.

This is a bad idea, you know it. Fucking and not actualy having a settled relationship is maybe the worst decision you've made with Javi, and the talks that always follow just make everything worse.

He lets out all the sounds he wants to, and you're sure he's not like that with other women. He's a sentimental man, sure, but he's too scared to let someone he doesn't know get too close, even if he aches for that kind of attention. He communicates a thousand things by touch, things that make you ask yourself if they're real or if you're only making everything up, too hopeful. You figure he feels safe in your embrace, thinking it's worth risking your working dynamic and your friendship by your actions.

You're happy to provide it, no problem. You just wonder how long will it last before you break or one of you gets hurt.

You cannot bring yourself to care enough to stop. 

"What about you?" He asks. Summers in México come to mind, along with days of the training in Ventura and parties in California, different names popping up. None of them make you feel quite as Javier always does with just a glance.

"I don't think so either." you answer honestly, "Not that I can remember, at least."

He shrugs. "If you can't remember any, then there isn't any. Love is not something you can forget about."

Javi also tends to become slightly poetic after a good fuck and a cigarette.

His ribs are still a little bit bruised from the gunshots of a few days ago, purple spots covering his waist and his chest. And you don’t like to think back to that day, it still haunts you. But every time you and Javi fucked in between that day and today, you have to ball your hands into fists and clench your teeth to stop your tears from falling. You have to remind yourself it’s just sex. Yes, you agreed to be exclusive but in no other way could you be considered a couple. Besides, relationships between agents are forbidden.

(Not that it would stop you, but still)

“And have you ever wanted to be in love?” 

Javier frowns at the ceiling. 

“I don’t think we have much of a choice when love comes our way. Either you fall in love and suffer, or you fall in love and embrace it.”

----

If he only knew.

Javier and Steve both turn to look at you, the question marks in their eyes are evident to you. You stand up, as clueless as them when you walk to the door.

“Bera,” the Ambassador’s voice comes from her office with too much volume. It makes you jump slightly. “Come here.”

Once inside, she gestures you to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. It feels like coming to the principal’s office as a little kid who got in trouble.

She just stares at you for a few seconds, not saying anything.

That’s never a good sign.

The silence becomes heavy, and you have to push down the urge to squirm under her stare. Once she speaks, you wish she hadn’t.

“Are you sure about what you’re doing?”

She doesn’t even have to say it aloud for you to understand what she’s talking about.

Fuck, is it really that obvious? You and Javier don’t even act different in front of anyone. There’s not even a big change to begin with. It's just sex. You’re not staring lovingly at each other’s eyes or playing footsie under the desk, Javier even stopped buying food for you only, now you have to share with him. 

You take a deep breath, torn between feigning ignorance or acknowledging the situation with as much dignity as possible.

She doesn’t even give you time to think.

“Don’t even try to act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, I’m old, I’ve seen some stuff and you can’t play dumb with me.”

Well, there goes that.

“Can I ask something first?”

That surprises her. She breaks from the intimidating posture from before and leans back on her chair, nodding.

“How did you notice?”

She laughs, interlacing her fingers in front of her and looking at you with amusement in her eyes.

“Honey, I noticed even before anything happened. You two are obvious as hell. Even a little kid could notice it by staying two minutes inside the same room as you.”

That doesn’t make any sense. Before Cali, even before Steve, you were never sure about Javier’s feelings. You knew he wasn’t indifferent to you, but with the way he carries himself around, it’s difficult to figure out if what he’s showing is really what he’s feeling.

You decide against saying anything else and nod. She sighs, shaking her head as she looks at you. 

“I just hope you don’t regret it later.”

Well, you’re right there with her on that one.

She ushers you outside and you quickly stand up, forcing your legs to work at a normal pace and not run away like your brain urges them to. 

Just as you’re about to get out of the office, you hear her speak again, but the words are not meant for you to hear.

“I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill him and then bring him back to life just to cut his balls off if he ever hurts her.”

You cover your mouth to stop the giggle from escaping, and walk to your desk with a smile on your face.

Javi arches his eyebrow at you. “Everything okay?”

You bite your lip. “Yeah, everything’s great.”

He smiles at you and winks. You chuckle, shaking your head and turning to read the reports you have to deliver that day. Most likely than not, you’ll have to say late to finish. Javier too, just like the day before yesterday.

Blood runs hot down your body as you remember. It had been an amazing night. Javi’s desk has a crack on the edge to prove it.

Realization hits you.

Oh God, so that’s why she noticed.

Tabaco y Brea taglist: @larakasser @storiesofthefandomloversreblogs @fioccodineveautunnale @thisisthe-way @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @marydjarin @ithinkimhardcore @nellyneko

[mybillyhardgrove]

Mango Kisses b.h.

A/N: in celebration of the end of my freshman year in college, here is a little summer story with billy!!

Edit: this is so extremely late it’s sad BUT with the cold months comes my yearning for warmth, so enjoy anyway x ellie

Disclaimer: i don’t own any Stranger Things material

Word count: 1557

Warnings: none :)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader (female)

Summary: it was a warm summer day and Billy decided to come over after his morning shift at the local pool to surprise his girl with a sweet treat

You were laid out on your driveway, smiling at the warmth of the pavement soaking through your towel and reaching your skin.  It was a lazy Saturday morning where your house was still - no voices, no music, no people.  Your family had gone to visit your aunt’s new house, but you decided to stay home and enjoy having the days to yourself.  So far, you had played your music way too loud, watched every VHS tape on the shelves, and finished the book you had started reading a month ago.  Now, you were outside, enjoying the warm sun and the gentle breeze.  What a beautiful summer afternoon it had turned out to be.  So quiet and-

You heard a vague rumble in the distance that quickly got louder as a certain blue Camaro approached your house.

“Uh oh.”  If you were inside, you’d have said your peace just flew out the window.

You sat up and adjusted your sunglasses, watching as Billy exited the car wearing a completely open button down and his lifeguard trunks.  He smiled when he saw you and gave a little wave.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he said, taking a seat next to you on your tiny towel.

“Hi, handsome.  You save any lives today?”  With that, he rolled his eyes.  Billy loved his job because the power he was given was tremendous, but you had listened to him complain tons about how deaf the children in this town must be for him to have to repeat himself so many times.  “Come on, Bill, those glistening muscles must be good for something more than eye candy for the lonely housewives.”  A wink and a nudge with your elbow squeezed a little laugh from his lips.

“You’re the worst, you know that?”

“I know, but you still love me.”  He let out another gentle laugh and shook his head.

“I know, I must really be off my rocker.”

“Oh shut it, Hargrove.  I am a riot.  Now scooch over, you’re blocking my sun.”  You laid back down and closed your eyes, feeling even more content now that you had your favorite person to join you in one of your favorite activities.  You opened one eye a bit and saw Billy hadn’t moved an inch.  “Come on, I’m trying to catch some rays and you’re messing it up for me.”  You wiggled your foot under his butt and pushed, but he was too heavy.  You sighed and sat back up, “Come on, Billy, I’m glad you’re here and I would like you to be here… just over here instead.”  You patted the hot concrete beside you as an invitation for him to lay down.  “You know where the towels are.”

With a huff of exaggerated frustration, Billy rose from his spot on your towel and disappeared inside with a plastic bag in his hand, returning a couple minutes later, the bag replaced with a soft pink towel covered in illustrations of roses, lavender, and vines.  “This is the only one I could find, your family must have taken the others with them.”

You opened one eye and snuck a peek at the grumpy expression on your boyfriend’s face for having to use such a feminine towel.  “What’s wrong with it?  I think it matches you perfectly.”  It was hard to maintain a serious face and your mouth quirked up at the edges when he grumbled about how you thought you were so clever.  When he was set up next to you, you looked at him and got a real treat.  His lean, bronzed chest was stretched across the towel and had beads of sweat already forming from the heat of the sun.  His eyes were closed to avoid its blinding light and his dark lashes brushed his cheekbones.  You thought you were hot before, but you hadn’t felt anything yet.  It made your heart near bursting as you watched the lazy rise and fall of his chest and the pink lips he chewed on.  You sighed in content and laid down again, smiling to yourself and looking forward to this quiet time with him.

Boy were you wrong.  Not even five minutes later, Billy had rolled on his side to look at you and began telling you about every little kid at the pool who had bothered him during his shift (spoiler alert, there were a lot).  Finally, you had to interrupt him.  “I’m sorry, love, but I was hoping for some quiet time in the sun.  I’ve heard all about these kids before and they aren’t even that bad.”

“Not that bad?  If there weren’t parents around, I’d hop down from my chair and chase them out!  Those little shits know exactly how to get under my skin.”  Becoming more agitated to defend his annoyance of children, he sat up and scooted closer, once again blocking your sun.

“You knew what you were getting yourself into when you took this job, Billy.  You can’t have every child act like a perfect angel all the time… you know how Max and her friends are, what’s the big deal?  Let them run and if they fall, they’ll learn their lesson.  Now back up, you’re blocking my sun again.”

Ignoring your last request, he continued, “I’d love to see them all fall, but I’d get fired if I didn’t enforce the rules.  Besides, I don’t need a crying kid who has a skinned knee ‘cause then I’d have to bandage it.”

The only way to relax him was to agree, so that’s exactly what you did.  Then, he was quiet for a few minutes more before starting up again.  This time, though, instead of talking about work, he hummed quietly.  This turned into mumbling the words and somehow worked up to a full rock concert with air guitars, drums, the whole works.  Peace shattered again.  You swore this boy wouldn’t be able to sit still if you promised him $50 to do it.

Thankfully he was playful after his “lifeguarding sucks” rant and came over, singing the words in your ear and running his fingers up and down your sides, making you squirm.  You wiggled away and pushed his chest to create space between the two of you, but he only came back again.  This time, he was singing louder and straddling you.  “Stop, Billy, all I want is a nice tan.  You’re such a pain in the butt.  Take your show on the road.”  This caused him to paint a dramatic look of hurt on his face and put a hand to his chest.

“You wound me with those words, Y/N.  I am sorry my one-man band isn’t enough for you.  I’ll leave now and you won’t have to see me again.”  You snorted, sitting up and watching as he grabbed his pink towel and slowly began walking down the driveway.  Your face had a huge smile and you couldn’t help laughing as he swayed his hips widely and faked a cry.

“See you later,” you dragged out and he sent you one last look and said something that caused you to perk up.

“I guess I’ll grab your surprise from the freezer and take it with me.  You wouldn’t want it anyway.”  You stood and rushed down the driveway to stand in front of him, a coy smile now gracing his lips.

You squinted your eyes and poked his side.  “What surprise would that be?”

He kept the act going, “It’s gross anyway, I don’t know why I brought it.  It’ll go to waste and I-”

“Biilllyyyy, stop this.  What did you get me?”  Growing impatient, you grabbed his hands and begged.  “I’m sorry for banishing you from my sunbathing spot, pretty please show me what you got me?”  Finally, he relinquished and pulled you inside, the shade and air conditioning a sweet relief.  Not as sweet, however, as the treat your wonderful and thoughtful boyfriend brought you.

Mango Italian ice.

Your absolute favorite treat in the summer, which Billy knew, of course.  He spun around and dramatically showed you the pint he picked up on his way over from the pool, hoping to surprise you.  He sure did.

You gasped with adoration and surprise, “Billy, Thank you!  You’re the sweetest!”  With a quick kiss, you bounced around the kitchen, grabbing spoons and bowls, as well as waters before the both of you made yourselves comfortable on the couch.  Relaxed and drowsy from the sun, you enjoyed every bite of the sweet ice Billy bought you and hummed after each, appreciating the cold that traveled down your throat and into your stomach.

When you finished the last bite and licked the bowl clean, you set it down on the coffee table and snuggled up next to Billy, stretching your legs out next to his and enjoying a few moments of silence and the warm, tan skin of his chest.  “Thank you for that, Billy, I loved it.”  You propped yourself on your elbow and leaned down to give him a long kiss, enjoying how sweet he tasted.  He pulled back so your lips were barely grazing and whispered, “You taste like sunshine,” and kissed you once more, this time making sure to lick your lips.  Your cold tongue and sugar sweet lips were Billy’s favorite thing under the sun and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

Masterlist

[alolanrain]

OKAY SO

Human!Arceus comes in with Bby!Raihan (not actually baby Raihan, but Raihan who isn’t a gym leader yet for Galar) and sets him in the chair opposite of Lance.

“Who, what, where?” Lance ask’s I’m so much confusion, but Head Council Ace (Human!Arceus) ignores him.

“I need to train Raihan here.” He states, patting poor scared Raihans bony shoulders and fucking leaves.

Lance is immediately like “am I getting fired!?! Can they fire me!?!?!” But he’s calm when he faces Bby!Raihan. Who’s fidgeting up a storm because he’s in his idols presents!!!

“What’s your typing?”

“Dragon”

Lance: well S H I T

So Lance starts training Raihan, and if he drags the other Dragon type gym leaders/Elite Four into it than that’s his choice, and while he’s there Raihan meets Bby! Red and Bby!Gold who are now Champions of Kanto and Johto respectfully.

So that’s also a reason why Ace gave Raihan to Lance so the Elite Four member could train the kid. Lance doesn’t know what to do with his time now because he’s so used to 4x’s the paper work for being both an Elite and the Champions of the two neighboring Regions.

And where ever Red and Gold go, the gang follows.

Raihan ends up meeting Silver, Crystal, Green, Daisy, Yellow, and OFC actual Baby Ash and Gary. He also meets their parents and Delia was so close to adopting Raihan into the family because the boy didn’t have his on family since his dad was apparently to “busy” to come and raise his son and Raihans mother died during child birth.

So he comes back every summer to train before going back to Galar for the next five years, then the next five is to just hang out and rant about the Galar League and have fun.

Idk about age so far but here’s the final ages for a few of them.

Red - around late 29 to early 30

Green - same as Red

Gold - 26 to 27

Silver - 25 to 26

Crystal - 27 + 5 months on Gold

Ash - around 23 to 25

Gary - same as Ash + the 6 Months he has on him

Raihan: - around very early 25 to very late 27

Daisy - 35 to 40, she just needs to be a few years older than Green and Red

Lance - around 50 to 60, but he’s emotionally an 80 Y/O with his wisdom and what he had to put up with the Ketchum/Oak kids and the other National Poké Dexers

Delia - 50 to 57 she’s needs to be older than Daisy, but younger than Lance

Ace - he’s fucking Arceus, does it look like I know his fucking age!?

Lance soon finds out that, No, Raihan isn’t immediately replacing him and that he’s being trained in stead because the current Galar gym leader at that time was finally sub-coming to her Cancer. So Lance was the next option because he’s been the longest Dragon trainer in the league after her.

(Hint at that Immediately??)

Over time Raihan soon sees that the other Gym leaders are drawing away from him, Chairman Rose and Oleana are now piling more and more paper work onto him, and now Leon and Sonia are now avoiding him at all costs.

(I haven’t figured out a reason why just yet, but I’ll get there)

And now Raihan goes to the council, because he can’t go to Rose because he knows how absolutely shitty he is about complaints and other things, and begs them not to actively search Rose until the Council is done with their search of evidence.

Unbeknownst, Ace has been gathering shit on Rose for Years now. So he uses this as a chance to freak the head chairman out. 

So Ace scheduled for him, a few other Council Members, Lance, Gold, and Red to come to the next beginning League ceremony for the start of the Season. Now Chairman Rose is internally freaking the FUCK out because he has council members and the three most terrifying International league members coming to watch the Galar League opening ceremony.

( Ace also starts hounding Lance, who’s hair is now mostly grey now with red streaks, to start looking for people so he can retire. Because Alder’s position got taken by Black and Both Alder and Drayden are wait patiently for Lance.)

(( and if Ace also can get Raihan to take both Lance’s Elite position, while also Raihan being closer to Ash and the found Family that’s been yearning for the dragon tamer to join them permanently - via marrying Ash finally - then that’s Ace’s second main secret ))

Rose sticks them down with the other gym leaders because he doesn’t want to sit near the council members or other league members. But that also means he gives them a great chance at “talking” (more like interrogating) the Galar gym leaders

And they find out that they have been distancing Raihan for multiple reasons that are pretty fucking weak. Ace pulls Raihan aside and gets the full sob story and then gently asks if Raihan would like to move to the Kanto League, which has grown substantially stronger with Red, Gold, and Ash at the helm of those Regions.

And Raihan subconsciously melts at the thought of being closer to his found Family and his Ash. He answers hesitantly that if they have a position, than Raihan would sign all the paper work today and that he already has several people ready to defend the Vault in his stead. Raihan then gets pulled away by a very nervous assistant that says it’s time for the final battle with Leon.

Ace joins up with the others and starts to casually grill Lance that Raihan would be the best person to fill his two Elit spots.

“What!?” Lance looks shocked at that thought. And Ace tries not to laugh at his God-nephew face.

“You and the rest of the Dragon Tamers trained him. And I also noticed how you subconsciously trained him to take an elite four position instead of a gym leader one.”

“That - that doesn’t mean anything!”

“Everyone that he needs to know has already met him and like him. Unlike the others you’ve found where they don’t like several people in the line up.”

“S-so!?”

“Lance, look at him! His own Gym uniform is styled after your outfit! He fits well with everyone, and is just as strong-if not stronger than you. He’s completely perfect to take over your position.”

“...”

“Hell! Chairman Rose is already pushing most of Leon’s Champion paperwork onto him, creating just the same amount-if not, again, more paperwork than your two positions.”

“I... do see your point.”

“So?”

“...”

“Lance. I’m not talking to you as the Head Council, your Boss, or an equal League member at this point. I’m talking to you as a concerned family member an as your God Father. It’s time for you to rest, Your Husbands are waiting for you and you’ve denied yourself this for a longer time than absolute necessary.”

“But the kids-“

“-they can come to you! You are still there! Available when they need help or an answer only you know.”

“I don’t want to spring this on Raihan though.”

“And we don’t have to. You can still train him as we bring in another gym leader, I’ve been gunning to put a bug gym leader in Galar anyways.”

“But-“

“Lance, Watashi no musuko. Stop making excuses, the future generation of League members are here. Right in front of your face. Just like when you first came Champion of Kanto and the rest son followed after you. You’ve been Champion of Kanto for over 30 years, Johto’s Champion for over 25 years, and Elite four for both for over 28 years.”

“...”

“Watashi no musuko. It’s time to rest.”

“...”

“Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll train him.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“Thanks for telling me to cut my shit.”

“I’m not the only one, Delia will hound you now more than ever to come to the family dinners.”

“Ugh! Don’t remind me!!!”

It all boils down to Raihan getting moved over to the Kanto Elite four under Red and finally start dating Ash. Chairman Rose gets taken down and Raihan is now allowed to heal.

————————

Idk this thought has been plaguing my thoughts for the last couple of days and I just had to wright this all out.

I think I’m calling this the Replacement!AU

[tara-l-blackmore]

The MWS Unit (or Iso)

Here's the thing about it.

I spent months upon months petrified of this experience. I would find myself suddenly scream-crying in my shower, so certain this would be one of the very last times I'll ever shower in my own house. I would look at Milo and just grab him and hug him, soak him in my tears and make him squirm away and wonder why I had suddenly lost my mind, because I was certain he would die before I could be freed.

I would log on to social media and stare paralysed at a screen of emails and messages, asking me how I was, and all I could think of was that if I never replied again, what would happen? If I lost them, if I could never get out, would they understand, would they not hate me for it? Or would they think I’d abandoned them, and hate me forever for it? And I could never ask, because I was too afraid of the answer, despite knowing how kind those few people are.

The worst was the fear over Terry.

He did nothing to stir it, to worsen it. He did everything in his power to steer my fragile mind away from that horror. But it didn't matter. It just didn't matter.

I stayed awake at night, staring at the ceiling, holding him and listening to his stupid obnoxious snoring and cry silently, wondering if I would regret hating that annoying nasally sound. I would watch the door close every morning, and dread that I would lose him on the other side of it, while I was trapped and not even able to escape to help him, to save him, to… to at least…

I was certain everyone would forget about me, that the time limit I was given was a lie to keep me calm, and that I would never, ever be released from that place, again. I had built up this place like it would be the insane asylum of all of my literary heroes, and I was just following them – and all without the being an author part. I would have a room of my own – forever.

So you could imagine my surprise when, the moment I walked into a room that had likely seen countless deaths, suicides, code blues, etc., and I sensed… none of it. I walked into that small room and felt absolutely nothing.

Let me back track a bit more.

While preparing for the time to get there, I realised something that had never happened before: I couldn't visualise or see it. Whenever I’m bound for some sort of adventure of some kind, good or bad, I can always picture it in advance. The majority of times, I’m wrong, but I can still see something.

But for iso, I saw absolutely nothing. And it terrified me, to the point of being certain that it meant I either wouldn't live to see it – or would die while there.

My fears grew. I became distant. I knew I could only depend on perhaps two or three people, and yet I still tried not to. I yearned to depend on others, only to be greeted with silence and apathy. My mentality worsened, I was certain this meant the end, and I started crying, every day, no matter what. I tried to do it alone, but usually failed – especially if Terry was there beside me.

But he wouldn't be – no one would be – and I was terrified. No one was allowed to visit, to even drop things off for me, and I was terrified of being abandoned there, whether it be left there forever, or come out of there with nothing and no one left.

I was so certain that this blind spot meant that it was the end, and nothing mattered, anymore.

But instead of saying any of it, all I did was just… pretend I was fine.

We woke up at 6, and I started shaking right away. I thought it was just because I was starting withdrawal, or I was overtired, but I actually did manage to sleep rather well the night before – Terry appropriately wore me out – but the second I got into the shower, I knew better: it was fear.

Was this the last time I’d ever see this place? That was my only thought, with everything I did.

Until, finally, it was time to go.

I'd been fully packed for two weeks, as they warned us to be ready for a 24-hour notice. And we got it. So it was easy to drag my stuff down to the garage.

I cried the entire time, trying to stop, trying to be strong for Terry, but I failed, and he was strong for me. The drive was quiet, full of silent tears and sips of cold coffee, but we got there early.

We spent the early half-hour in each other's arms. Now that we were there, it felt real, it felt true, and I was paralysed with fear. Again, Terry was the strong one – until finally, they sent someone down, and it was time to go.

We hugged, I cried, I think he might have teared up a little, and then we kissed and said goodbye – and see you next week.

Then, I was led away, and the doors closed.

The lady was kind, carrying the things I could not and welcoming me here. I was warned, however, that there was a fire drill going on, so there would be an hour delay in my check-in. This was bad news, as I was already feeling absolutely terrible.

Or so I thought.

But I smiled and nodded and let her lead me into the kitchen/common room, to wait for it to be over.

That's where I met J. He greeted me and was friendly, asked if I wanted food, and asked how long I was going to stay. I was shaking the whole time – he was a tall white man, and they sometimes make me nervous – but he did nothing to send my alarm bells off – not even when he mentioned being in jail.

“What're you here for? Alcohol?” he asked me.

“No; pain and opiate control,” I confessed.

i made a small joke, then, and to my surprise, it made him guffaw.

“Well, Tara, I hope you like it here,” he concluded. “It's really good.”

“I can see that,” I agreed, and he left.

I waited a bit more, bored and feeling gross, until I was found again and taken to the doctor.

I was weighed, measured, and photographed, given a keycard necklace to wear at all times, and then they took both blood and urine. I then spoke to the doctor – Dr F – about what I hoped to achieve while there.

“I'm not expecting a miracle,” I muttered, starting to feel sick. “I just want to be a housewife. I want to go see my niece and not want to die from pain after.” I met his gaze. “I want to see her at least graduate elementary school.”

He took me seriously, and no doctor had ever done that, before. He named my condition “suffering”, and for the first time, I realised that this was true. And I cried, shocked that someone I just met had more compassion than people I’d known for decades.

“Most of all,” I choked out, “I just want to make my husband happy.”

“I’m sure he wants the same for you,” Dr F agreed, “and part of that is to ease your suffering.”

Needless to say, it was a very emotional interview.

I was then led to my room – and surrendered my suitcase. I came prepared for it, aware that a lot would be taken away, and I was right. They took three freezer bags of stuff I was not allowed to be alone with – including my perfume! – but whatever.

After, I spent a brief moment of quiet putting things away, feeling the bad feelings increase but still having hope that I would spend the worst moments distracted at the desk they offered or curled up at the chair with books.

I was so wrong.

The rest of the day was a blur, because it got repetitive. I had to repeat everything at least four times, and by the end, I was exhausted.

But by then, I was ready to start.

At first, it was okay. I felt gross, but assured that the meds now inside me would ease that gross, and I would feel better in mere hours.

Instead, it initiated a five-day long stupor of pain, vomit, sobbing, and repeat, followed by exhausted or sedated sleeps and sobbing into pillow cases, my body too weak to even sit at the chair to do anything. I had to drag myself with my walker simply to see. Everything hurt.

But I kept breathing.

It was hard to do just that.

Withdrawal makes you think you are dying. It robs your muscles of blood, of air, and it makes your stomach curdle and turn on itself. It makes food taste like ash, pieces no bigger than pencil erasers creating constant choking hazards, and it makes your dreams turn to nightmares of that so-certain impending death.

Every night, I sobbed myself to sleep. Every morning, my body woke me with trembled and heaves and cold sweats and crying, crying, crying…

I fasted. I needed phosphates. I slept through all the activities I’d hoped to go to.

My only defence was sleep or tears. I tried to watch shows or answer emails or even talk on Discord, but nothing came out. Nothing could come out.

Because while everything felt horrible and awful physically, mentally I was… fine. I did have bad dreams, but they vanished the second I awoke bathed in sweat to heave. I didn't hallucinate. I didn't have flashbacks. I didn't even faint.

I was just very sick and ill, and reluctant to share it with anyone, even the people I knew I could trust.

Until my fifth day, I was trapped in this endless cycle of illness. Nothing mattered. Nothing existed. I realised way too late that one of the other chicks stuck with me was flirting with me, crying too hard to realise it (probably a good thing). All I could do was push myself with my walker from room to nursing station, crying, then back, again.

The night of the fourth day was the first time I wondered if I should try to shower. I even asked, and even though I was advised not to, I wanted to, anyway. But when I tried, I didn't make it. My soap did – I threw it across the room – but I did not.

The fifth day, however, was one that woke with heaving, as usual – but there was a finite quality to it, a strange kind of calm that followed it, and I wondered. The whole day, I watched myself, and I found myself sitting at that desk, writing one of the prompts in a prompt book I wrote. Then I laid back down and fell asleep.

The new meds had finally begun to work.

Because when I woke next, I was able to eat a little. And then after, I managed a sit-down shower. I cried the entire time, and after, so proud of myself, and I felt like a human, again. It was the first time I wanted to pick up my phone, but sadly, when I tried to speak, I again choked up and hid away.

Days six and seven were much the same: I awoke sick, was given meds, and when I was calm, I snacked on vegetable cheese crackers that I brought with me, finally able to stomach small amounts of solid – if very masticated – food. I spent the days watching Netflix or reading a book my mom bought for me – or sleeping.

Every day, I saw Dr F, who was dismayed by my lack of improvement until day six. When he saw me then, he was surprised by the change, and realised that maybe there is more to my suffering than wanting drugs. He even asked me how it felt.

“It doesn't make me high – I know what that feels like – but it makes me feel better,” I replied.

“Then it's working as it should,” he revealed.

And of course, I started to cry, and I was given my release date. I sobbed all the way to my room.

The last day – day seven – I was well enough to shower in the morning (though I did have to lie down for a while after, exhausted), as well as attempt to eat the food (fail). I then spent the day between packing up, going on a grounds walk and pet therapy (more on those in a second), and I even managed to listen to a small singing group (whose song made me cry and I had to run away).

First, the grounds walk. I missed all of the other ones, despite promising my mother that no matter what, I would get outside. But the one day I was up to it, it was raining. I was the only one who went, so it was a short jaunt, but so worth it to me. The air was cold and fresh, and the rain was like kissed on my hot, feverish face. I cried yet again, adding to it in my own way, and collected leaves, because I’m a witch.

Then, the pet therapy. I waited all week for this, and it was worth it. A woman came in with a rescued fawn greyhound, and I melted for her. She had past scars, but was so well-behaved and loving that you'd never know she was abused for sport. But near the end, I got too emotional, missing Nim, and I again ran away. I spent the rest of the night sneaking snacks around the entire place, because I didn't want to take them home.

The last morning finally arrived, and for a while, I didn't really believe it. I expected them to tell me I needed to stay longer. I distracted myself with an early shower; they said be out by 8 am, so I showered at 6 and was done by 7. This time, I laughed and cried.

After it was confirmed that I was going home, it again becomes a blur. They did repeat blood-work, sent my new prescription to my pharmacy (or tried to, but because the place is basically run by defective robots, there were issues), and was sent back downstairs.

Then… Terry was there. Holding me. Squeezing me. And crying, almost as hard as me.

He'd missed me. He said he did, hated being alone, but until then, I never believed it.

It changed something in me. It made me start to calm down about us, about how strong we are, together. I feel… well, it's hard to explain. But in any case, it's amazing.

We drove home, I posted some tweets, and I ate real food for the first time in 8 days – a poutine. We fought the pharmacy and won, then we just… hung out. Talked about it. Held each other into the night.

And in the morning, when Terry laid across my legs as usual, I knew my heart was home, and I wept. I knew I was safe, I was not alone. I knew I had to make hard decisions, now, things I never knew I had to do, but once I did, I was freer.

Once I stood on my balcony, the wind in my hair and the chill up my robes, I knew: my new life has finally begun.

I fought with all I could.

And for the first time, when I needed to the most, I won.

I won.

[intuityworld]

Are you a stay at home widow ? 

How are you supposed to realize your deeply held feminine dreams if you feel a complete lack of fulfillment in filling yourself and that your unable to midwife your dreams as a result?

Do you have the TIME to love yourself, take care of yourself and fill yourself up using all the tried and tested methods if you're a busy stay at home widow or have a full time job?

How do you justify spending money on self-development programs and trainings if you hardly use them?

Why's it so nerve-racking to put yourself out there and risk trying again‘ ?

Is the constant battle to fulfill yourself and realize your dreams really worth it?

Can you really get to fulfill yourself up and realize your deeply held dreams without it being a constant internal fight, without the process being overcomplicated, emotionally exhausting and de-habilitating not to mention painstakingly time-consuming?

And when should you be creating self-fulfilling and self-loving care activities to take care of filling yourself & your inner well up like a well-oiled fulfill yourself petrol station?


Should you create a self-loving and self-fulfilling dream mantra power statement?


Are you doing daily self-fulfilling and self-loving affirmations ? How often?


What about creating a vision board to attract in, manifest and fulfill your dreams?

STOP. JUST STOP.


If any (or all) of the above questions run through your head day after day I might be able to help.

Hi, it's Pascale Caroline Seiler


And, while I don't claim to know it all, I have helped stay at home widows who have felt lost, confused and overwhelmed to learn how to truly fulfill herself up and realize their deeply held dreams with a step by step guided roadmap. We call ourselves The Dream Fulfillers. And yet… Not that long ago, I was in your shoes.

Those early days were rough.

I'd take a step forward only to take three more back. I was yearning to fulfill my heroine story or sing my unsung song only to feel paralyzed, lost and adrift in myself and my life. I felt as if life had totally given up on me and abandoned me. 

Anyways, if that's kinda how you feel right now... Let me give you a road map, so that you stop hitting dead ends or getting lost on back roads, and instead take the fast lane to fulfilling yourself up and realising your dreams that you can truly be proud of !

Let me show you that it’s now your time, to realize your destiny, the world can no longer afford to wait or sit idly by for the magnificence that is you to arise, your voice is wanted and needed more than any time before, the world is calling your name, don’t quit just as it’s becoming your time. Here is what I’m proposing. I’ve had a TON of stay at home widows reach out to me asking for my help.

So I had this crazy idea to build a step by step roadmap to guide you from Oh what’s the point I am sick of striving, and driving and fighting to make my dreams happen only to be back where I started with myself and my dreams. What if I told you that you are totally able to manifest yourself,and that this is your time to manifest and realize yourself. It’s your turn. It’s going to be effortless, easy, and magical. And it will all happen in 6 weeks.

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Please forward this on to someone where this would make the greatest difference. And kindly reach out by direct messaging me if your personally interested.

[theheartofpenelope]

Simple Things : Chapter nine

Excerpt - As she hurried down the hallway her eyes fell onto the sight she’d somewhat feared... A bespectacled man was reading a paperback at the door of her hotel room. There he was; casually leaning against the door case. The man who had comforted her to sleep, the same man who had urged her to Ystad to ease her mind. Was it silly of her to feel tingly all over as she set eyes on him? Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @emoietmoi @redfoxwritesstuff @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @raining-litter Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter Nine Edinburgh, Scotland– day one

1.  July turned to August. And just like every other year Edinburgh was transformed to accommodate the Fringe Festival. Scotland’s capital was turned upside down as a wide range of performers of all arts and nationalities touched base in the city. Countless stages were being set up all over the city, ready to present spectacles of all kinds and for every taste.

This year Tom would be partaking as well, albeit for one night only. It was a childhood dream come true. He had decided to turn his stay into some sort of a city break, allowing himself some extra days on site because, well, Fringe. With relatives nearby he’d been wanting to visit and a list of performances to explore he granted himself the gift of time.   “A mini-break, Charlotte would be so proud,” he’d laughed to himself.

But first and foremost, true to his words, Tom had made his arrangements to meet up with Charlotte. It had been settled that he would pick her up at her hotel after she concluded her seminar for the day. He wanted to show her the city that held plenty of his childhood memories, he wanted to introduce her to the wonderful world of Fringe - certain in every way that this would be a festival to her taste. He wanted to take her to the Theatre and see her revell in the experience as she did in London. He wanted to talk to her, spend time with her without having to keep an eye on the clock. He wanted every second, as long as it was with her.

She had been on his mind ever since he’d ran into her at the airport that day. On the weirdest moments and in the strangest situations. However when Tom turned down his cousin’s invitation for an event occuring on the night he was to meet Charlotte, he was quick to inform said cousin he was just simply meeting up with someone; a friend. It was most definitely not a date, merely a friendly get-together. The sentence had rolled of his tongue as it had done many, many, times before, in other situations, with other people. This time however the words left him somewhat hollow. Strange.

In the elevator Charlotte glanced at her watch for the umpteenth time, fully realising she was - in fact - still running late. As the steel sliding doors finally opened to her floor, she rushed down the hallway on her white heels, her off white dress flowing casually along, a binder closely held to her chest while her other hand balanced her purse.

As she hurried down the hallway her eyes fell onto the sight she’d somewhat feared... A bespectacled man was reading a paperback at the door of her hotel room. There he was; casually leaning against the door case. The man who had comforted her to sleep, the same man who had urged her to Ystad to ease her mind. Was it silly of her to feel tingly all over as she set eyes on him?

If anything the setback in the seminar’s planning had been a blessing in disguise to Charlotte as it had left her with no time to stress about meeting up with Tom. The afternoon transitioned into early evening without granting her even the slightest second in which she would be able to worry about anything at all. Besides running late of course.

“I’m sò sorry I made you wait,” she apologised. Tom only greeted her with a lopsided smile, urging her not to worry about any of it. They had the rest of the evening, he reasoned before greeting her with a casual peck on the cheek. Her loose hair smelled of citrus and a hint of white musk.

“Do I have time to freshen up just a little bit? Slip into something more appropriate?”

Charlotte rambled on, unaware how he cautiously admired her attire while cautiously reminding himself that this was not a date.

Charlotte inserted her key card and headed into her room, wordlessly inviting him inside. And while she rummaged around in the bathroom, Tom curiously laid eyes on the books that lay scattered on her nightstand. He started flipping pages before coming across a thin hardcover book titled ‘the Amsterdam Canals’.

“See anything you like?” her gentle inquiry startled him and Charlotte quietly laughed at her realisation of it. Tom chuckled slightly and readjusted his glasses before turning his attention from the books back to her as she made her way towards him.  

“That one is for you actually,” she picked up the slim book, presenting it to him.

“I spotted it on a flea market; it’s from an Ecuadorian photographer. Thought you might like it better than the crappy shots I sent you.”

Her lips curved into a kindhearted smile as she admiringly pointed out some of her favourite images to him. However his eyes were fixated on her rather than the book.

“Are you serious?” he gave her an incredulous look, “you shouldn’t have....”

“Hmmm, I have this thing,” she shrugged, “with books. I don’t know. An accidental discovery, I couldn’t just leave it there… ”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” he nodded while a genuine feeling of happiness snuck up on him, “I appreciate this. Thank you.”

“Well, it’s no Paulo Coelho…” Charlotte felt a blush coming up and swiftly steered away from the subject. Buying that book had seemed an attentive gesture to her at the time, but in retrospect, maybe it had been a strange and foolish thing to do?

“So, what do you think,” she switched her hip in good fun as she fake-modeled a casual short-sleeved sweater dress, “am I good to go now?”

“You’re perfect,” the words rolled of his tongue. And it wasn’t a lie.

Remember Tom, not a date.

2. His long legs climbed the Scottish hillside at a very steady pace; Charlotte suspected this was a regular visit to him. Had to be. She gave herself thumbs up for wearing a pair of sneakers while she marched up the (sometimes not so gentle) slope. She may have lost the benefit of added height, but was ever more grateful for gaining the ability to ease through the brisk climb.

Tom was clearly in his element and this amused her greatly. He explained how Edinburgh was built on seven hills and Charlotte was thankful they would only be climbing up just one that evening. It was clear she had been sitting too much these days. All these seminars were a professional blessing, but a physical curse. This, combined with the heat wave, has created this bizarre yearning in her mind to go swimming, not climbing hills. But she had no say in this tonight. She’d agreed to letting him surprise her with what he reckoned a ‘sightseeing-de-luxe’. He made her promise to not take any notice of the view while climbing up, but to allow herself to get surprised at the summit. And who has she to deny him of this - obviously great - pleasure?

“So this one, is called Arthur’s Seat and they say it’s a sleeping dragon,” Tom elaborated. “An old Celtic story says that a dragon used to fly around the sky, terrorising the region and eating all the livestock. Eventually it ate sò much, that one day it lay down, went to sleep, and never woke up again.”

It wasn’t hard to imagine his inner 10 year old that still awed over the legend.

Charlotte smiled to herself, taking in all the information while playfully addressing him as ‘Tourguide Tom’ for the rest of the hike. It had only spurred him on though; under a thick Scottish accent he directed her attention to St. Anthony’s Chapel, the Royal Mile, etc.

“Ye ken, traditionally oan main day, yoong kimmers woods climb th' hillside an' wash their coopon in th' dew,” he continued with a smirk, “legend has is 'at thes woods keep them lookin' yoothful an' bonnie.” (*)

(*) “You know, traditionally on May Day, young women would climb the hillside and wash their face in the dew. Legend has is that this would keep them looking youthful and beautiful.”

It might as well have been Chinese to Charlotte. While she did have English under her belt, the Scottish dialect was just a bit too far out her reach. Except for maybe some easy basics…  

“Ur ye feckin' kiddin' me?!”

If anything, Tom did not see this one coming. His hand flew to his chest, he threw his head back and laughed. Loudly and without reservation.

“Com’n then love,” Tom tittered on, while guiding Charlotte up the hill for those last few feet. Charlotte chuckled along. He seemed so happy, carefree, a bit flirty, probably without trying to be. He was in good spirits and it was quite catchy...

Against all of her expectations, the summit was quite touristy. A lot of vacationers promenaded around, their cameras in hand while they were alternatively in awe of the view and anxious to take that perfect vacation picture so they could relive the moment at home.

But when she herself was standing near the edge of that particular hillside, Charlotte finally understood; the view was nothing short of spectacular. She fell silent at the sight of Edinburgh at her feet, the old city centre was buzzing with activity, with mood lighting everywhere. The people down below were crawling all over the streets like ants, the cars and bicycles seemed almost toy-like.

She heard Tom approaching behind her. It sounded like a gently sigh escaped his lips, mere moments before she heard him quietly murmuring into her ear, “now if I remember this well, you are a sea girl before anything else…,”

In their messages post-Hamburg he had learned about Charlotte’s affinity with water. With the sound of crashing waves, the effect of the surf that could always, always calm her down and relax. Something about childhood memories and Oyster Festival Parades (but she hated oysters. It cracked him up.). Also something with boats, the sounds of the marina. He never told her, but that was exactly why he’d urged her to Ystad. Out of the city. Closer to nature. In a cottage close to the beach; the promise of a deserted shore where you could sit for hours on end just enjoying the silence...   

He gently placed his hands over her upper arms and guided her a bit to the right, changing her position so her eyes could catch the entire panoramic view he had in mind.

“You need the full perspective,” he whispered.

WIth a gasp Charlotte noted the ocean coming within view; the dull cry of seagulls in the distance, little boats making their way back to the safe harbour.

“Oh my…”

“Yah,” a proud smile and he nodded. “I couldn’t bare the thought of you visiting Edinburgh and not coming up here.”

“Something tells me you couldn’t bare the thought of not coming up here yourself.”

Tom looked at her out of the corner of his eye and chuckled as he admitted to her speculation with an ambiguous nod.  

“There is pleasure in the pathless woods, there is rapture in the lonely shore, there is society where none intrudes, by the deep sea and music in its roar; I love not Man the less, but Nature more.”

Charlotte, however, could only frown at Lord Byron’s beautiful poetry, and declared that she knew melancholy when she saw it. A lazy smile curved among Tom’s lips as he cast his eyes down, “and how are you?”

“Don’t digress Tourguide Tom,”

“Says the evasive lawyer,” he quickly retorted.

“Not evasive,” she defended; a caring sympathy lingering through her voice, “I was just first.”

“Are we five?” he cocked his eyebrow in good fun, which promptly urge a giggle from Charlotte.

She looked upon him gleefully and he wondered what it was that made her feel so… familiar and honest and ‘good’?

“What is wìth you today?” Charlotte chortled, “someone ought to teach you manners again. Am I going to speak with your mysterious blonde over this?”

Tom shook his head with a laugh as he quickly retorted the mystery blonde was simply not for him. It had been a casual answer but it didn’t make Charlotte feel any less mortified for mentioning it. Tom sweetly shrugged Charlotte’s apology off. Because there was nothing here to be sorry about. Not one thing at all…

“But,” he raised his index finger proudly, “you will be happy to know that I’m taking a mini-break. Right now.”

“You’re not!” she exclaimed excitedly, “finally! Is that why you’re so…”

“So? So what?” he curved his brow comically, “oh really, finish that sentence for me now.”

Charlotte cackled and admitted she’d rather not. “Oh my, but you’re really doing it. Slowing down. Zoning out. La dolce far niente…” she teased while rubbing her arms. Strands of her hair circled around, dancing freely on the fickle wind.

“Are you cold darling?” he ran his hand over her back, but Charlotte only shook her head, “nah, only surprised how much cooler it is up here. Brisk breeze here,”

“I should’ve told you, it’s always quite windy up here…” he pondered for a little while, “What do you think - Fish and chips?”

Charlotte threw her head back, in an attempt to shake her long tresses out of her face and dramatically bellowed, “god yes!” After days and days of fancy food and finger sandwiches, fish and chips was just perfect. The ideal amount of grease and calories and she was up for it.

He winked and slanted his head to announce their descent.

“There,” he inched nearer and ran his hand from the top of her head of her to her sides, brushing her hair down as he did, “you look like a rockstar.”

There he was, it was as if the clouds had somehow lifted and she for the first time saw him for who he really was. All pretences stripped away. Nothing but his friendly charm, his familiar support, she felt as if she was coming home to an old friend. She could feel his body radiate as they stood close and noted how a soft frown came over him, his eyes scanning her expression.

Her heart skipped a beat. Actually more than one.

Oh, for Pete’s sake! Pull yourself together Charlotte!

She was acutely aware of their proximity and the crazy things it started doing to her, she was even more aware of individuals that kept on roaming around, closer and closer still.

“I erm,” she croaked, “I think you have been spotted,” she raised an eyebrow.

“You think?” a frown of disbelief came over him. This was Scotland, he was good in Scotland. There were no paparazzi here. Or were there?

“I erm, I spy some hesitation, I think they’re going to come up closer to make sure,” her eyes concernedly flashed back at him. Beautiful dark orbs mirroring nothing but honesty and concern. Tom nodded.

3. And, in fact, the small group did just what Charlotte had carefully predicted. As usual, Tom was polite and charming. He offered the vacationists a kind word but rapidly apologized himself to the group when he’d noticed Charlotte had started the descent on her own. Though he found it really defined her and her headstrong, independent, I’ll-be-just-fine-attitude, in his heart this was just not right.

Unbeknownst to him, Charlotte’s heart had been beating rapidly in her chest. And the overwhelming need to shake the nonsense out of her head demanding her to do something about it. And soon. So she started walking downhill, rubbing her arms along the way and taking deep breaths while repeating her new mantra in her head.

Oh dear, oh my, do not make a fool out of yourself Charlotte!

She was thankful though, when Tom caught up with her again and escorted her further down the hillside where he proceeded to gladly introduce her to one of his favourite fish and chips shops. It took her mind of her recent embarrassment and, truth be told much more than this, it stilled the appetite she’d been nurturing during the hike.

To Tom it was clear the woman had no shame in enjoying her food. At all. He liked that. And promptly ordered them a couple of Brewdog’s brown beer, because ‘if you’re doing this, you have to do this right.’

Charlotte had her eyes lowered and focused on skewering chips onto her fork when she casually slipped that she was grateful for him taking her around town and curiously questioned him about Fringe. He gladly and enthusiastically informed her.

When they finally set foot into the centre of Edinburgh, ready to immerse themselves into the experience of the Fringe Festival, the amount of visitors in the streets dizzied her. Charlotte had jokingly mumbled she’d go wherever he would lead, Tourguide Tom, just as long he wouldn’t lose her in the crowd.

And so - after only a few minutes mingling in the streets, he’d wordlessly grabbed a hold of her hand. Without looking. She was sure his only agenda was to guide her safely through the mass in the streets. His hand was large and warm and held onto hers with a caring confidence. Charlotte was surprised at the gesture, but gladly succumbed to it. How could a gesture so small, result to an effect this grand. Oh god, this would not end well.

Don’t let go.

4. Tom safely led Charlotte through the crowds on the streets, towards venues she would not be able to find on her own given the chance. Charlotte looked around in amazement at the liveliness of the city and its visitors, willingly following Tom wherever he guided her.

He explained there were a few acts he thought she might enjoy and led the way and Charlotte followed curiously. The venue was - she guessed - an old concert building. Obviously no longer in use. Shame though. It was dark and crowded. The audience was quite diverse which left her utterly clueless on what she was to expect. The viewers were elated though and anxious. An intriguing start…

He ushered her further down the parterre and towards the front of the stage, where she would closer to the music and away from the blinking neons that blinded her and left her under his control. Not that he mind doing just that.

He turned to the right as they got closer to the podium and asked her if she would be alright standing there. She noted it would leave them with a close view of the performers, but they also escaped the harsh lighting thanks to the overlooking balcony, which she did not mind at all.

Relatively soon the spotlights died down and the hall was enclosed into shades of blue. Spotlights brought the audience attention up to the ceiling. Tom however could not help but sneak a peek at her, curious towards her experience, just to see if he had made the right choice with this. Would she be enjoying herself?

He could see her look up above the stage with big curious eyes, and how her lips slowly curved themselves into a wondrous smile as a pair of aerial ballet dancers came tumbling down.

Her smile was only getting wider and wider by the second as she watched the performers play and as the amazement of their craft settled in. She was rapt, there was no denying that.

That smile was all he longed to see. An emotion came across his heart. Not the sense of pride he was expecting, this was different.

Tom brought his gaze back onto the scene himself, until he felt her eyes on him mere seconds later and wordlessly drawing him in. They sparkled and it was all the answer he’d ever needed. They exchanged the broad smile she thanked him with.  

Her eyes conveyed beauty, wondrous amazement, appreciation and pure delight. It warmed his heart because he felt just the same, just looking at her.

The dancers swept the audience away, moving them from cautious emotion to elation and from grief to hope with such a flexible ease.

When the male dancer came tumbling down, some of the spectators gasped and Charlotte was no exception. Her hand was covering her mouth and Tom instinctively ran his hand over her spine, inching closer to ask her if she was alright. She merely nodded, never taking her eyes of the stage.

When the music swelled, implying the woman would follow the man’s path suit, Tom could swear he felt Charlotte tensing up under his gentle touch.

A closer look indeed revealed her hesitating whether or not to keep looking. She ultimately squeezed her eyes shut and turned around slightly, gratefully clasping her hands over his forearms. The viewers gasped once more and she immediately scanned Tom’s expression for clues.

“What happened?"

But Tom only stood, gawking at the stage in stupor.

"What happened?" she pressed on before eventually turning her head back to see what had the growing whispering and gasping behind her back.

She heard Tom, brought back out of his daze, softly whispering “I thought you didn’t want to see this…?”

Dirty tease.

“I’m curious,” she defended as she looked back up to him again, “also, you were no help at all.”

“I’ve gathered that by now,” his lips gently brushed her ear as he mumbled on.

“It’s a problem, I know,” she sighed, “but I hàve to… else I’ll just imagine the worst.”

“You’ll imagine the worst?” he tilted an eyebrow in good humour.

“My imagination is my worst nightmare, I’m afraid…” her eyes twinkled as she joked.

 She could feel his eyes settle on her while he suppressed a laugh. Suddenly she was well aware of the fact that his hand had remained on the small of her back and her hands still clasped over his forearm. She found herself teetering on that fine line between composure and absolute surrender again. How could she not? After spending this perfect night with this charming man...

Glancing back up at him, only to find him looking right back at her, she wondered if she  balancing thin border alone or not. It didn’t help that the music was compelling, or the fact that shades of blue enhanced the mystery within his handsome features.

 Charlotte’s eyes travelled from his eyes to his lips. Everything about him called her in. Even hours prior, on Arthur’s Seat. Like a moth to a flame. She felt her pulse racing, her heartbeat deafening her ears.

She could vaguely see his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something but last-minute decided against it. Did he lean in closer or did she? She failed to remember. All she realised was that at some point she was close enough to feel her nose softly brushing against his cheek while her thumbs softly stroked his arms.

Her lips seemed to search out his but neglected to kiss them, instead they hover over his as if to sense whether they would fit, whether he would consent? Her eyes fluttered shut when she finally did dare to sweep her lips onto his.

It felt as if the world suddenly had stopped turning, as if all sound had left the venue and nothing else existed apart from them. There. Together.

It was silly, impulsive maybe, but there was no way running back from it now. And if all went to hell, well then, let it. At least she would feel no regret. After a while.

When her lips left his, she stood frozen for a moment, eyes closed, afraid to move, afraid to break the spell and afraid of how he might react.

Images of the World Cup Semi Final Party drift back into her mind. Sensations of a satisfying, yet tipsy kiss. Much less chaste than the one they shared now. But just like that night, she pulled back a little. And when she did dare to search his eyes again, she found they simply glistened at her in honesty; radiating warmth and looking at her lovingly.

His thumb grazed her soft lips. His weight shifted closer and she swore she heard him whispering her name while the distance between them was closed once more. He moved his fingers along her jaw, sliding them into the side of her hair when his lips capture hers in return.

Charlotte gladly and unreservedly surrendered to him, to his warmth, his taste, his scent and his touch. She adored how those first few kisses just lingered, although remaining featherlight before their eager lips parted, longing and desperate for so much more.

She easily moulded herself to his rhythm, her fingers drifting over the skin of his neck and proceeding to ghost over his bearded skin.  

She adored the fact that his hands gently but firmly enclosed themselves around her waist, so he could hold her firmly against his own body. Cradling her so devotedly moments before they both lost themselves in a very amorous embrace.

She felt as though her heart might burst.

Good lord. Don’t stop.

The sound of an enthusiastic applause in the venue brought them both back to earth quickly, cruelly ending their passionate embrace.

As the outside world started to slowly seep back in, Tom rested his forehead against Charlotte’s, basking in the sensation of her hand that still remained splayed out on his chest. His fingers combed through her hair and he relished in her sweet perfume that enticed him ever so much.

“We seem to have a knack for bad timing,” he chuckled to her amusement.