#downtime between trails; musings

[bates--boy]

Your Muse's Typical Meals & What It Says About Them

Breakfast: Oatmeal or breakfast bars - Peter loves fine foods and all, and would even go to a fancy café for breakfast if he had downtime, but there's no dropping the old hardy sea life no matter how hard he tries. That sea life includes starting the day with something quickly made and nonperishable, to accommodate his busy life and get him through the workload ahead. (Though he does add a lot of cream and fruits.)

Lunch: Räkmacka - Peter really loves seafood, and was astounded to learn that there's an open-faced shrimp sandwich. When he first tried it, he absolutely fell in love with it, and tries to have it often. Another meal that's pretty simple to make for someone who's constantly on the go, but wants something a little bit fancier than fast food.

Dinner: Ngwo Ngwo - Finally, finally, Peter can take his time to prepare a meal and unwind to something hearty at the end of the day. After Naseem's grandma invited him and Caleb to dinner, Peter fell in love with this delicious dish, that tastes like a warm hug (and puts Caleb right to sleep).

Midday snack: Trail mix - Easy to carry, filling, a great energy boost, and now has chocolate pieces in them to sate his sweet tooth!

Midafternoon snack: Semla - Technically, he can only have this between December and March, but Peter likes breaking rules and is a hedonist who must have it now now now (plus, the recipe is online or he can pester his father or Ashira to make it for him, so...)

Special occasion dinner: Roasted lamb with a savory squash chutney - In his childhood, the protein he's eaten the most were fish and beef, something he's caught in the fort or something shipped to him freeze-dried or canned. Maybe he'd have a bird or two he was lucky enough to catch and kill during the worst of his starvation. (We won't talk about the rat. We will never talk about the rat.) So, when he had his first lamb, once again from an Okoye recipe, it was like he's died and gone to heaven. Tender, melt-in-your-mouth perfection! And lamb meat typically cost more than beef, pork, or chicken, so you know that it's super fancy, right?

Midnight snack: A whole point of gelato - He's a "treat yourself, bitch!" kinda guy with the worse impulse control, especially when he's super sleepy and has a hard day. He's found that his favorite flavor is Cioccolato Con Peperoncino. Five percent of his monthly budget is set aside for this decadence.

Comfort food: Ärtsoppa & Pannkakor - Sure, when people get sick, they normally go for chicken soup with ingredients that doesn't make the congestion worse. But when Peter is sick, he needs to be babied and comforted, and what other food does that than one always made by his Papa, that reminds him of being home and a little boy curled up in Berwald's lap?

[siren-of-the-cortez]

Stranger Things 3 Ep 2 {SPOILERS}

Okay, I neglected this last episode but yup, Billy is possessed. Or something akin to it. While I know this will affect our awesome kids, I am appreciating that asshole going through some suffering.

I am also relieved that Karen didn’t go through with the affair. While she is unsatisfied, I remember her caring for her family. Good thing she remembered what’s important in her life. And I think how Billy ‘turned her down’ was probably what little control he had left given that shortly afterwards he straight up abducted a girl to sacrifice to the Upside Down Blob.

So what I’m wondering, is there an Upside Down version of everyone? Or is this just an illusion for the Flayer to speak to Billy? I’m gonna keep assuming its the Mind Flayer until stated otherwise.

Now onto the drama and shenanigans with the kids. Mike...you had Hop’s threat coming by being a little shit. He tried being nice but you just HAD to push it. Now, El dumped you cause you couldn’t tell the truth. 

I am happy that El has found a gal pal in Max. Was initially concerned she may have been mad at Max again like in last season. And their fashion montage was sweet. But, how were they buying all this shit? At least El can actually express herself a bit. Thanks Max~

LET. WILL. PLAY. DND. DAMMIT! He had two years of hell and you guys can’t set your hormones aside for ONE NIGHT?!

I am also loving this Robin girl. Something in me thinks she might get with Steve but eh. It doesn’t bother me either way. She’s cool and I already like the banter she has with Dustin and Steve.

Politics in general can just fuck right off. Please and thank you. 

If Joyce loses her job(just a thought I had) I will kill that mayor slowly.

Speaking of Joyce, isn’t she like always the first to notice weird shit at the beginning? We love, support and stan a MOTHERFUCKING LEGEND! 

And lastly Hopper. Oh Hopper. I know you’re trying your best. But, Eleven WILL find out. You both WILL fight A G A I N my guy. But, hey, you clean up real nice. 

That blob Flayer beast is something new. That’s for sure. Now onto episode 3!

[the-evil-authoress]

GX Month Day 29: “Frontline Base”

Even heroes need some downtime. Show us what the schoolyard crew gets up to when they’re not saving the world or studying for finals. Sleepovers perhaps?

BROT4 GOOOO!

Seven pages of pure, nonsensical fluff.

Jesse jerks as the door bangs open and Christina leans in, breathless and giddy. “Jay, movie night at Lexi’s!”

“Sweetness!” Jaden scrambles to his feet, all but abandoning the cards spread out between them as he sweeps his deck back into its box.

Hold up. “What?” Jesse glances between his new friends in confusion.

“We watch movies in Alexis’ room,” Jaden says like this is a perfectly natural occurrence.

“Yeah, no, I got that.” Jesse frowns, trying to think back to the rules and regulations sheet he’d been handed at orientation. “I thought guys weren’t allowed at the Girls’ Dorm?”

Jaden makes finger quotes and winks. “You coming?” he asks, already halfway out the door. Christina shouts at him to hurry up from the distance.

Oh, okay. So this is a thing. “Sure.” Collecting his own cards, Jesse slots them all neatly into his deck box. He isn’t about to turn down an open invitation, arbitrary rules be damned. Christina hangs out down here enough.

The smile Jaden gives him looks like a miniature sun. Then he charges down the stairs after Christina. Jesse hurries to catch up.

*

The Slifer Dorm and Obelisk Girls’ Dorm are the farthest from each other, so it’s a fair bit of a walk. Jesse tries to pay attention to the route to remember it later and fails, because it’s either that or lose track of what his new friends are saying. As it is, the pair use terms that Jesse isn’t familiar with yet. Christina’s quick enough to translate or explain as best she can; Jaden’s English is a lost cause.

The building finally comes into sight. Jaden immediately veers off to the side as they approach and makes a choked noise as Christina grabs him by the collar. “It’s a different room!” she hisses and proceeds to lead them around the back of the building.

“Right…”

They enter through a tiny door that Jesse would bet money students aren’t even supposed to know exists and weave their way through the hallways up to the second floor. The layout is definitely different than the Obelisk Boys’ Dorm from what little time he’s spent there. Still stupidly posh. Jaden charges headfirst into the room as soon as Christina points to it.

“Yo, Lexi! First movie night of the year!” He flops face first into the mattress. “Man have I missed these beds.”

“Nice to see you too.” Alexis huffs with a grin, glancing up from the adjacent desk as Jesse shuts the door behind himself. She visibly startles at the sight of him, and Jesse freezes as he considers for the first time that he might have received the invite from the wrong person.

Well, shit. This just got awkward.

“Oh, right, uh-” Sitting up, Jaden glances between Alexis and Jesse before giving Alexis a big, cheesy grin that looks nothing short of terrified. “-plus one? If you don’t mind.”

Surprisingly, Alexis relaxes with no more than a breath. “It’s fine. Just send me a heads up next time.”

“Heads up!” Jaden chirps with another smile made of sunlight. No idea what that means, but Christina starts giggling and Alexis shakes her head like an exasperated parent. She doesn’t seem mad though, so Jesse figures it’s safe to join Christina by the couch instead of letting his Beasts guide him back to his own room for the night.

“You’ve got a single room this year,” Jaden says, glancing around the space. It looks a lot like the one Jesse was given - really big and really empty with far too much space for a single person.

“Yeah. I got one too, not that I’ll be using it.” Christina shrugs as Jaden hops off the bed and belines toward the window.

“You’ll probably end up crashing here when you’re not at the Slifer Dorm,” Alexis agrees, clicking out of the program she had open on her computer before standing.

Christina beams. “You know me so well.”

“You have a balcony!”

“Which is why-” Alexis holds out a key between her and Christina, seemingly ignoring the Slifer leaning out her window. “-I got an extra.”

Squealing, Christina snatches the key and hugs the other girl. “They can’t keep besties apart!”

“Hey!”

“Oh, hush.” Christina waves a hand at Jaden’s offended expression. “You’re my boy bestie. Lexi’s my girl bestie.”

For a moment, Jaden pouts and Jesse wonders if he just stumbled into some friendship drama, but then the Slifer shrugs and returns to studying something outside below the balcony. “Fair enough.”

Should Jesse really be here? He took up the offer - that wasn’t even from the person who’s room this is - on a whim. He’s barely known these people two weeks when they’ve all known each other at least two years.

“Jaden, get back in here.” Alexis twists to chide the Slifer still standing transfixed on her balcony.

Jaden doesn’t budge. “As soon as I figure out the best route!”

“Route?” Curiosity overriding the sense of displacement, Jesse joins Jaden on the balcony.

“Yeah, up and down.” Jaden leans over the balcony railing, face scrunched up in concentration. “Climbing’s easier than sneaking through the hallways every time.” He says that like he does this often. So this is definitely a thing. Jaden and Christina struck Jesse as the rebellious type; Alexis not so much. But hey. Jesse likes being wrong; means he gets to learn new things.

Poking his own head over the railing, Jesse looks down the side of the building, already spotting places to grab hold or balance a foot. “There’s a few…” he mumbles, sliding back into his mother tongue. Getting to them from the balcony is the tricky part. Glancing up at the treeline, he spots an overhanging branch just close enough to grab hold and reaches up to give it a tug. It holds firm so he shifts his weight, braces, and swings himself up with a practiced ease. Jaden gapes like a fish and Jesse smirks.

“Get down!” Alexis hisses, sharp tone chasing away most of his pride. “It’s still daylight!”

Right. And he and Jaden aren’t supposed to be here. Jesse doesn’t fancy getting himself kicked out this soon. He can understand the intention behind not allowing boys in the Girls’ Dorm but the fact there’s been no indication of a similar rule for girls at the Boys’ Dorm does imply a few things. Jaden still looks starstruck when Jesse lands next to him. “Dude, teach me?”

“Sure. Later?”

“Sweetness!” Jaden bounces back into the room with an enthusiasm that, for once, looks entirely genuine and Jesse finds himself smiling too. “So what are we doing first?” Jaden looks to the girls for input.

“Well, since you’re here-” Alexis turns a confident grin in Jesse’s direction, and Jesse has to stop himself from shying away from the sudden attention. Alexis’ eyes are as sharp as her smile “I wanted to get a better look at that deck.”

Oh, okay, this is familiar. Running thumb over his deck box, Jesse feels his Beasts vibrate with anticipation. He grins. “Sure. Duel?”

“Game on.”

*

They spread out the cards between them on the coffee table, sitting on those pillow things the Japanese substitute for chairs. Christina bounces between rooting for Alexis and rooting for Jesse play by play.

“Who’s side are you on?” Jaden asks, chin propped on Jesse’s shoulder where it’s been pretty much the entire match.

“Both!” Christina chirps from her seat next to Alexis.

“That’s not how it works!”

Sure it is; Jesse tries to hide his laugh behind his cards. Although he’s flattered that Jaden’s apparently willing to take his side, who really wants to pick sides between friends?

Christina hums, leaning back with a suspiciously smug expression. “Should I tell you that next time Sy and Hassleberry start fighting over your attention?”

Jesse feels Jaden cringe as he pulls away. “They don’t duel over me! That’s different.”

“They did once.”

“What?! When?!”

“You were in space chilling with a dolphin man.”

“What?” Jesse jerks, misplaying his next card as he gapes at the redhead.

Christina only breaks into giggles as Jaden angrily pouts. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope!”

“Space??” Jesse repeats in an effort to distract himself from the horrible position he just put himself in on the board as he passes the turn to Alexis. He had to have misunderstood that.

“Neo Space,” Jaden says in English which does absolutely nothing to curb Jesse’s confusion. “Not actual space. It was like…” He trails off with a frown.

“A separate plane of reality,” Hummingbird says from where he’s been perched over the game board with vested interest. “Another dimension.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Yeah what?” Alexis asks without even looking up from her cards, and Jesse automatically braces for the backlash.

“Uh, a separate plane of reality,” Jaden repeats. “Or dimension, I guess?”

“So like the Dominion,” Christina muses.

“Makes sense.” Taking out his defense, Alexis sets a card and passes the turn to Jesse.

Oh, right. Even Jaden’s friends who can’t see them too just kinda accept that he can see spirits. Feels weird to talk about it so casually, but Alexis doesn’t look bothered at all. “So what’s this Dominion place?” he asks as he draws his next card. Ah, sweet! He needed this!

“You don’t know?” The confusion in Christina’s voice pulls Jesse’s attention away from his cards again.

“No?” But now he feels like he should.

“It’s where they come from.” Christina gestures to the cards on the table. “The Dominion of the Beasts. Well, most of them.” She glances at the Neospacian perched on the arm of the couch.

Jesse should probably be less surprised that duel spirits are from an entirely different plane of existence. “And ya couldn’t have mentioned that?” he turns to grumble at the tortoise by his side.

Emerald blinks slowly and sounds far too honest as he answers, “It wasn’t relevant?”

And Jesse thought Athena had been cryptic. Actually, why hadn’t she or the other fairies ever told him about this Dominion place?

“To be fair, I don’t hear a lot of other duel spirits talk about the Dominion.” Jaden plops his chin back on Jesse’s shoulder and squints at the cards in his hand. “Oo, that one!” his hand snakes around the other side of Jesse’s head to tap a spell in his hand. “I only know about it cuz of you and Dark Magician Girl.”

“And we’ve been there,” Alexis says, and Jesse’s head snaps up again.

“Oh, yeah, that,” Jaden agrees far too casually.

This is probably the part where Jesse should just stop asking questions.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Christina groans flopping backwards onto the floor. “Or I’ll have to go track down Pharaoh to kick Banner’s ghost.”

“Banner’s what?” Alexis and Jaden ask at nearly the same time and Jesse is glad to finally not be the only one in the room with no idea what’s going on.

“I…” Christina hesitates, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t actually want to explain that one.”

“You can see ghosts?” Alexis stares at the other girl with no small amount of shock.

“Yup.”

“What does Pharaoh have to do with it??” Jaden almost looks afraid of the answer, and frankly, Jesse doesn’t blame him. Does this Banner guy possess the dorm cat? He’s seen that cat hang out in the rafters of Jaden’s room. And now there might be a dead guy watching them.

“You don’t want me to answer that.” Christina pulls herself back up to sit properly on her floor pillow with a sigh. Jaden squints her a while longer before turning his attention back to the nearly forgotten duel.

“Okay, but seriously, if you combo these cards-”

“No backseat duelin’!” Jesse tries to shake the other boy off as he taps the cards in Jesse’s hands again.

“I’m trying to help!” Jaden whines petulantly.

“Well yur not!” Jesse would rather fight his own battles, thank you very much, at least when it comes to a fair match like this between friends. Also Jesse can’t always follow Jaden’s scattered brained logic for card combos and still doesn’t understand how the guy won his last daily match.

"Ungrateful!" Jaden huffs, sitting back with his arms crossed and cheeks puffed out like a child. Jesse has to stop himself from reprimanding Jaden for it.

Alexis creams him. But Jesse spent half the duel distracted, so he’s not surprised. Just means they’ll have to have a rematch sometime to find out each other’s true strength. Jesse looks forward to it. By the look in Alexis’ eyes, she feels the same.

*

They end up smooshed together on Alexis’ bed watching movies on the obscenely large TV. Jesse stares at the screen like he’s never experienced an in-home theater and Christina has to admit the awestruck expression of complete immersion looks cute. Near the end of the movie he starts to fidget, pulling restlessly at his hoodie. Jaden didn’t even bring his jacket, so he’s just in his black t-shirt and the school issued track pants. Christina’s wearing her usual tank top and shorts, and Alexis changed into her pajamas before setting up the movie. Jesse’s the only one wearing long sleeves.

“Hey, å, do any of y’all care if I take this off?” Jesse asks as the credits roll, pulling at the white fabric.

“Was wondering why you were still wearing it,” Jaden mumbles.

“It’s...it’s my shirt,” Jesse says after a moment’s hesitation.

“Dude.” Jaden giggles against his shoulder.

He’s not wearing anything under it? Alexis sends Christina a glance and she shrugs. She sleeps at the Slifer Dorm most of the time anyway. Shirtless guys don’t bother her.

“No, that’s fine,” Alexis says.

“Cool.” Jaden sits up as Jesse pulls his hoodie up and Christina does a double take at those abs. What? She wouldn’t call it ‘chiseled’ by any means but, even in the dim light, distinctly defined muscles shift and ripple as the hoodie goes up over Jesse’s head. Hi there, pretty biceps.

“You work out?” she hears herself squeak and quickly clears her throat.

“Freerunning, mostly.”

Free what? Christina’s brain stumbles over the unfamiliar phrase. She recognizes both words but she’s never heard them mashed together like that, and just running does not give you biceps like that.

“That counts,” Alexis says. Glad one of them knows what he’s talking about. “Atticus tried it in middle school. He broke his arm and sprained his ankle.”

Jesse winces. “Yeah, it’s challenging. I’ve taken my share of tumbles.”

Okay they’re obviously not talking about just running. So what does the ‘free’ part mean? “Someone gonna explain?” Christina asks, glances between her friends. Jaden looks as confused as she does at least.

“Å…it’s like…” Jesse trails off as mumbling a few words in a language Christina doesn’t recognize. “Jumping off walls?” he tries.

The image that conjures is decidedly not the one Jesse is trying to convey. He makes a frustrated sound as Alexis reaches over Christina for her PDA. “I’ll look up a video. It’s hard to explain even without a language barrier.”

“Thanks,” Jesse mumbles, slumping into the pillows as Jaden leans on Alexis’ shoulder to peer at the screen. The video paints a much clearer picture of people running through back alleys and vaulting over walls and scaling buildings with their bare hands. It’s like the shit she and Jaden used to do in his backyard but cranked up to eleven.

“Teach me,” Jaden repeats, breathless with awe.

“Sure? It’s not something you learn overnight,” Jesse warns.

“Don’t care,” Jaden declares and flops back against the other boy’s shoulder. “You’re warm…” he sighs, immediately twisting to drape himself across Jesse.

“Å, yeah?”

Christina smirks. “Jay’s a heat leach.”

Jaden grumbles as Alexis reaches past him to place a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “Okay, human heater goes in the middle.”

“Hva?” Jesse reacts with that word again that Christina can vaguely guess means something similar to ‘what’ in terms of expressing shock and confusion.

“Human heater goes in the middle,” she agrees and Jaden whines.

“But I wanna be middle!”

“Then you and Jesse can share the middle,” Alexis says, prompting Christina off the bed with her to make room for the shift. “Now come on, scoot.”

Whining the entire way, Jaden wiggles across the bed, dragging a still very much confused Jesse with him. A quick game of roshambo later, Alexis glares at her traitorous fist while Christina crawls in on Jesse’s other side. Ohhh, he is warm…

They debate over their next movie before finally throwing another one on. Christina doesn’t remember the end of it.

*

Jesse wakes with his face in a pillow, sandwiched between warm bodies and Jaden on top of his back.

He could get used to this.

[nightbts]

through the night | jjk | 06

pairing: jeon jungkook + stylist! reader

word count: 6.2k

genre: fluff, angst + idol! au, friends to lovers! au

parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

listen to this playlist while reading!

best of friends. that’s what you and jungkook were. as their stylist for several years now, you and jungkook got along like no other and over time developed a friendship that was special to the two of you. but what happens when an IU collaboration deal, a jealous childhood-best friend and secret feelings get intertwined with the simple life you thought you were living?

“Y/N? Y/N!” a voice called out as you looked up, startled to see a hand waving about in your face. 

“I said your name a million times sweetie, come on we gotta go!” Stylist Yoon tsked as she ushered you towards the luggage filled with members’ clothes, accessories, and makeup before walking away and muttering something about kids these days. 

“R-right!” you squeaked as you quickly scrambled from the chair you were sitting in. Grabbing all your things and cursing at yourself under your breath,  you ran out the door as you tried to catch up to the other stylists. 

You honestly couldn’t help it. Your mind was consumed by one and one thing only: Jeon Jungkook. Even though it had been weeks since the night at the dance studio, the memory had been permanently imprinted on the forefront of your thoughts, refusing to leave. And anytime you even looked at Jungkook, you were reminded of them instantly: the way he held you gently in his arms, how his nose brushed against yours, and his lips that were just millimeters away—

“Get yourself together Y/N!” you groaned to yourself as you shook your head. 

“What happened now?”

Looking behind you, Jiho stood there with a raised brow as you instantly flushed knowing he had heard you.

“N-nothing!” you squeaked in response before hurriedly moving past him, as Jiho simply stared at you suspiciously. 

Neither you or Jungkook had brought up that night, to each other or anyone else. But as the days went by, you couldn’t help but feel something had changed. Whether it was in the way you looked at each other, or didn’t more specifically, or how the both of you watched your words and your actions more carefully, things weren’t the same anymore. 

“Anyone would be able to tell that nothing was something.” he chuckled softly to himself, as he watched you stumble over your things before flashing him a sheepish grin. 

“Come on ya clutz,” he laughed as he approached you, helping you carry some of your belongings as the two of you rushed out the door, trailing behind the other stylists as you waited to get into the bus. 

Today was the last day of the boys’ international tour, and the final destination was in Seoul. While they were all relieved to finally be back home, there was still a sense of anxiousness to put on a final great performance, an amazing finish to their amazing tour. 

Once you had put away all your things, you followed Jiho all the way to the back of the bus. Moving out of the way, he motioned for you to take the window seat, giving you a knowing smile. 

Smiling widely at him for remembering, you sang a small thank you as you settled into the seat, while Jiho plopped himself down beside you. Letting out a soft yawn, you stretched in your seat before falling back with a sigh, “This is it, isn’t it?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Turning to look at him, you said with a small shrug, “Last concert.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jiho replied, “You’re making it sound like it's their last concert forever. It’s just the end of their tour Y/N.” 

Waving your hand dismissively in the air, you said, “Yea, yea I know. I’m just saying, our lives were super hectic the last couple months and now it's going to be the complete opposite for a while. Just when I got used to the chaos...” 

Humming in agreement, Jiho rested his back against the seat before saying, “I suppose you’re right about that. It’s okay though, we all need a bit of downtime before things start picking up again.” 

A couple seconds of silence passed over the two of you when you felt Jiho’s gaze lingering on you, causing you to turn back to look at him, “What are you looking at—?” 

“You’re wearing my jacket.” 

Blinking in complete surprise, you stared at him before looking down at the jacket you had been wearing. This morning you had been getting ready in such a rush you had barely noticed the jacket you had grabbed wasn’t yours, but the one Jiho had leant you a couple days back. 

“Oh! Huh, you’re right...” you trailed off with an awkward chuckle, your face flushing with embarrassment. Pulling at the sleeves of the jacket, you started, “Here, I forgot to give it back—” 

“No,” you heard him say softly, his hands pressing down on your own. Eyes slowly meeting yours, Jiho gave you a gentle smile before adding, “It looks good on you. Keep it.” 

“Jiho—”

“I mean it. It’s yours now,” he said firmly, his grip on your hands tightening. 

Nodding slowly, your gaze lingered on him as he turned back to face the front.

Odd, you thought to yourself before shaking your head of the thoughts that attempted to enter your consciousness, silly thoughts that you knew where impossible—

“You never told me how you got home that day.” Jiho said, interrupting your thoughts. 

“Huh?” you blinked dumbfoundedly, before his question registered in his head. Recalling how the moment you stepped foot into your apartment and how your exhausted body fell into bed, you remembered that you sent a quick text to Jiho before letting sleep consume you, your dreams that night filled with the heart-racing moments you had spent with Jungkook just hours earlier. 

The corner of your mouth twitched as a shy smile erupted on your face. Averting your gaze, your fingers began playing with the sleeves of Jiho’s jacket before you started to ramble, the pitch of your voice heightening with every word, “Well um, when I went back, thing was, Jungkook was still there so we both left together after a while. He got a taxi for us and he dropped me off at my place.”

"Oh, I see,” Jiho said tightly, lips pressing together. Even though you were looking away from him, he could see the way your cheeks flushed under the soft light that streamed through the window beside you. Jiho had a feeling something had happened, but his heart told him he was better off not asking.

After all, knowing would only hurt more. 

“Sorry!”

“No, I’m sorry!”

Speaking at the same time, you and Jungkook looked at each other with wide eyes.

Gripping the folders tightly in your hands, you quickly bent down to pick up the papers that had fallen out when you had abruptly crashed into Jungkook. Following suit, Jungkook bent down to help you when suddenly you felt a brush of his fingers against your own, the both of you reaching for the last sheet that lay between the two of you.

What kind of cliche-ass shit it this?! your brain screamed as you quickly grabbed the sheet towards you, and got back on your feet. Giving Jungkook a quick goodbye, you quickly walked into the stylists’ room that was only a couple feet away.

Closing the door, you pressed your hands to your warm cheeks as you felt your heart race in your chest. 

On the other side of the door, Jungkook stood there staring at his fingers, a slight tingling sensation filling his stomach as he turned and looked towards the room you had escaped to. 

“Is Jimin alright?” 

“He just needs a couple minutes, everyone else get ready!” 

“Yoongi, over here please!” 

Commands were thrown left and right as voices overlapped with each other. As the members came backstage after performing a couple songs, they were preparing for a costume change and getting ready for their next set. 

As you ran around, various costumes and accessories in your hand, you stopped by each group of stylists and handed them their needed items. Finally, you made your way to Jimin who you had been mostly helping that day. 

Resting a soft hand on his shoulder, you watched as he took in another deep breath before rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck side to side. 

“You gonna be alright Jimin?” you asked gently. 

Giving you a quick nod, he motioned for you to hand him his new outfit but not before giving you a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.” 

Watching as he disappeared behind the changing curtains, you looked around to see if anyone needed any additional help when your eyes fell on Jungkook. Stifling a laugh, you watched as he struggled with his earpiece that found a way to get tangled with his earrings. 

Walking over to him without a second thought, your hands reached out towards his as Jungkook paused, his eyes widening at your sudden appearance. 

“I told you a million times if you're going to change your accessories to take out your earpiece you dumbass,” you mused with a shake of your head. Inching forward, you grabbed the wire of his earpiece with one hand, and his earring with the other, quickly untangling them. 

“There.” you murmured before turning your head to look at him, a wide grin on your face. However, the moment you did, you felt your nose softly brush his cheek, the smile on your face instantly dropping. 

Blinking in surprise, you nearly launched yourself off of him as he gave you a wide-eyed look in response. Pointing towards his ears, you stammered, “T-There, that should be good now.” 

“Y-yea, thanks.” Jungkook stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Hearing someone call his name, Jungkook gave you a quick smile before running in the direction of the sound. Watching as he disappeared through the crowd of people who were rushing about backstage, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

As a couple of weeks passed, each day slowly became better as both you and Jungkook started going back to normal. While the awkward moments appeared now and then, neither you and Jungkook talked about them and just went on with your lives as if they never happened. 

Work today for most of you finished early, including the boys’ practice sessions.  As you were packing up for the day, you heard Jungkook call your name as he popped his head into the doorway, his eyes twinkling with excitement.  

“The variety show episode I filmed is airing in a couple minutes, do you wanna come watch with the rest of us?” he asked, his voice laced with excitement. 

Glancing at the time on your phone, you looked back up at Jungkook who was gazing at you with expectant eyes. 

Smiling, you said, “Yea, I’ll be there.” before adding with a smirk, “After all, I don’t wanna miss you seeing your ass get whooped anyway.” 

Rolling his eyes in amusement, he simply stuck his tongue out at you before flashing you a wide grin, “See you in the lounge room then!”

As he disappeared from the doorway, you turned back around to quickly finish cleaning up your station, a certain feeling of giddy excitement rising within you.

//

Walking in alongside Jiho, who you had grabbed as he was planning to leave, the both of you entered the lounge room to already see all the members there along with some of the producers and other stylists. 

“I see there’s a whole watch party here.” Jiho chuckled lightly as he stood next to you, the both of you scanning the room for a spot to sit. 

Just then, you saw Jungkook waving his hand at you, motioning for you to come sit by him. As you made your way towards him, Jungkook’s gaze fell behind you and his hand faltered mid-air, his eyes widening in slight surprise. 

Giving Jiho a small nod, Jungkook forced a smile as he greeted him. Feeling the sofa dip beside him, he turned to see you giving him a soft smile, one that made the corners of your eyes crinkle into the shape of half-crescent moons.

“I didn’t realize all these people would be here,” you said in a hushed whisper as you looked around the room, giving small waves to your fellow stylists. 

Sitting beneath you on the floor, Jiho replied nonchalantly, “Yea, I’m only here cause Y/N dragged me.” to which earned him a smack on the head from you. Rubbing his head sheepishly, he grinned at Jungkook, “No offense bud, I was just ready to go home today.”

“None taken.” 

Just as you were about to say something, you heard Hoseok start shushing everyone, as he raised the volume, “It’s starting!” 

Grinning in excitement, you turned to look at Jungkook who was staring at the TV screen nervously. Placing your hand on his arm, Jungkook turned to look at you as you gave him a reassuring pat. Almost instantly, Jungkook felt himself relax as he gave you a grateful smile in return. 

Biting down on his lip, he sighed nervously. He hoped everything would go well.

// 

You wish you hadn’t come. 

Your gaze remained glued to the TV screen in front of you, not because you couldn’t stop watching but because you were afraid to look anywhere else. 

As time passed, the voices surrounding you began to suffocate you; the voices that all teased Jungkook, that all gushed in excitement at every opportunity possible, the voices that kept uttering the same two words over and over again within the same sentence -- Jungkook & IU. Jungkook & IU. Jungkook & IU.

If you had known, you wouldn’t have been here. 

It had been only 30 minutes since the show had begun, and the number of times you had seen or heard a comment regarding the two would be more than both your fingers and toes combined. 

And once again came that feeling. The gut-wrenching, sinking feeling that erupted within the pit of your stomach. 

“Alright, Jungkook-ssi! Why don’t you go stand by IU?” 

“Wow, look at how good-looking they are together!!” gushed the female TV host, as she clutched her chest and sighed, “So beautiful!”

“IU-ssi, now do you prefer dating older or younger men? Cause if younger, you have an amazing one sitting right beside you!” The male TV host grinned cheekily, wiggling his eyebrows at Jungkook. 

“Jungkook-ssi? We all know what an amazing singer you are. Why don’t you serenade your ideal type, IU with a song?” 

You sat there, fists clenched in your lap as you watched Jungkook on the TV flush, a soft red dusting his cheeks as he smiled shyly towards IU who equally looked flustered, a nervous chuckle spilling past her lips. 

The other guests on the show all began cheering Jungkook on, pushing him towards IU while one of the hosts shoved a rose in his hand. Giving IU an embarrassed smile, you saw him lift his microphone and begin singing one of her songs, Through The Night.

“Jungkookie! Did you prepare this huh?!” you heard Taehyung tease as he playfully nudged the boy next to him who simply returned a shy smile. 

But all you could hear was his voice; his soft, gentle voice that would usually make your heart flutter, but today, made it ache. Your eyes remained glued to Jungkook’s face on the screen. The way his eyes softened. The way his lips formed a nervous smile. The way his body naturally moved towards her. No hesitation in his movements whatsoever as he grabbed IU’s hands in his. 

The room erupted in exclamation as they watched Jungkook make his bold moves towards IU. As the rest of the members began to pile on more teasing words, many of them tackling Jungkook, ruffling his hair playfully you started to hear him nervously laugh in response as he shook his head, “Guys, calm down. It’s just a shooting. It’s not a big deal—”

“When was the shooting?” 

The question spilled past your lips before you could stop yourself, but even then, the curiosity burned within you. You had to know. 

Turning to look at you in surprise, Jungkook cocked his head to the side, thinking, before finally responding, “It was about two weeks ago.” 

“Ah.” you nodded casually, turning back to look at the TV. But on the inside, you felt everything slowly fall apart. Your hands began trembling in your lap as you clenched them tightly, hoping nobody would notice around you. Biting down on your lip harshly, a metallic taste flooded your mouth as the pain caused tears well up in the corners of your eyes. 

Two weeks ago. 

Just three weeks ago, you were in Jungkook’s arms, your forehead against his as you could still remember the way his warm breath fanned your flushed face. The way his eyes softened as they looked down at you, his nose that brushed yours as his grip tightened on your waist, time slowing down. Just the two of you. Alone. 

A moment. 

A moment where you felt like you had the entire world in your hands. Where you felt like you could spill all your inner thoughts and feelings. Where you felt like you could tell Jungkook you loved hi—

Scoffing aloud, you softly shook your head when you felt a certain wetness wash over your cheeks. Eyes darting to make sure nobody saw you, you quickly swiped the back of your hand against your cheeks, sniffling softly. 

Could you get any more pathetic, really?

After years of falling for the boy who now sat obliviously next to you, whose eyes were filled with adoration as he smiled softly at the TV that graced IU’s face, you felt like the world’s biggest joke. You had held that night so close to your heart, every second, every motion, every breath as something to hope for. But now you knew. 

You were the only one. 

//

As the show came to an end, you saw everyone talking to one another, about the show, about ordering food and other things. Slipping your purse around your body, you slowly got up from the couch and made your way towards the door, hoping to get away before anyone noticed. 

A foolish hope that was. 

Feeling a hand grab your wrist, you turned around in surprise. Looking up, you saw Jungkook grinning down at you when you suddenly jerked your hand from his hold. The smile on his lips instantly died, his brows furrowing together as his once-bright eyes were now clouded with confusion. 

“Y/N—?” 

“I-I have to go—!” you spluttered out, averting your gaze. Feeling a hand rest on your shoulder, you turned to look at your side where Jiho stood. 

Lips forming a tight line, he looked at Jungkook before saying, “We’ll be going now. You should be getting back to your members, Jungkook.” he added pointedly, motioning towards the rest of the boys who were all now calling Jungkook’s name. 

Looking back at you, Jungkook’s lips parted to say something else but Jiho bid farewell at the younger man before softly pushing your back towards the door. 

The walk to the bus station was relatively silent. Neither you nor Jiho talked about what had happened just mere minutes ago. As you got settled into your seat on the bus, with Jiho sitting beside you, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. 

Taking it out, your eyes fell on the home screen, messages lighting up the screen. 

[9:26] jungkookie: hey.... are you okay?

You had tried so hard. 

The entire night, you had tried so hard. 

But as you stared at his name on your screen, your iPhone suddenly lighting up to show the picture you and Jungkook took years ago filling your screen, you couldn’t try anymore. 

As your head fell to your hands, your shoulders began to shake, silent sobs racking through your small stature; floods of tears gushed down your cheeks as you felt your chest tighten, every second getting harder for you breathe. 

Feeling an arm pull you into their chest, you only cried harder as Jiho wrapped you closer to him, his head resting atop yours. 

It was like a flip switched within you. 

While you continued to remain as normal as possible, it would take a fool to not notice how much you had changed. 

While you always worked hard, you worked harder now. You ran around the building, taking on assignment after assignment, meeting with different stylists, and calling different brand companies with your proposals that you had worked on endless nights in a row. 

You had always been known as one of the “quiet and shy” one, but now you were anything but that. You made sure to eat with others, happily engaging in their conversations. You often went to drink after work was over, tagging along with fellow colleagues. 

But on top of everything else, while you were always found somewhere around Jungkook, now the two of you were rarely seen together. 

All your life, you had let in people. One after the other. People who had said they were your friends. People who had said they cared for you. People who had said they loved you. 

But in the end, they all left. They simply stopped talking to you. They ended up avoiding you. Some ended up cheating on you. And as every single one of those people you let in left you, it furthered the crack in your heart, each and every single time. 

And you didn’t know if your heart was well enough to handle it once again. 

As you’d hurriedly brush past the members, head ducking down to avoid Jungkook’s worried gaze. As you’d walk the longer way to certain places in hopes of avoiding Jungkook. As you’d stutter out incoherent, meaningless words to him when he would ask if you were okay, you would think to yourself, again and again.  

You’re acting ridiculous, Y/N...

But you couldn’t help it. You knew Jungkook wasn’t going to leave you, no, he’d never do that. He would be your friend, always. 

And that is the very reason why you were acting the way you were now. 

Knowing how it feels to be near him, to hold him, to touch him. Knowing the happiness that bursts like a thousand fireworks within your heart when he gives you his soft smiles, cheers you on, pats your head, pokes your cheek, hugs you, and tells you that you’re amazing, you just knew; your heart couldn’t handle just being friends anymore. 

It was selfish of you, incredibly selfish. You could see the way he was hurting, and it pained you more than anyone knew. However, after being selfless all your life with every single person in your life, you realized that in the end, nobody cared about the sacrifices you had to make, the emotional turmoil you had endured, the mental pressures, none of it. And for the first time, you decided to be selfish, you took a decision that was for you and not someone else. 

But as you took off your makeup at the end of the every day, washed your face, brushed your teeth and got into bed, and as the tears streamed down your face once again, you couldn’t help but think, why did being selfish hurt even more? 

Head hung between his legs, he lifted it up and ran his hands through his hair as he let out a cry of frustration, the sound echoing in the empty dance room. He grabbed his phone that laid next to him, the time reading 5:45 PM. Unlocking his phone, he opened iMessages to see the several unread messages, some from the members’ group chat and others from his friends and family. 

Scrolling down, his fingers hovered over your name as his eyes fell upon the date he had last texted you. 

It was over a week ago when Jungkook had texted you asking if you had been alright; remembering the way you rushed out of the room after watching the show, Jungkook felt confused at the way you had looked at him. 

A flash of pain and sadness had washed over your face, your cheeks stained with tears that Jungkook had noticed almost instantly. Yet before he could make sure you were okay, Jiho had whisked you away. 

His jaw clenched slightly at the thought of the older man; at that moment, he wanted to grab your hand, pull you to a quiet corner and hold you in his arms as he’d ask you what was wrong. But the chance never came, and now it had all seemed too late. 

On top of you avoiding him like the plague, it seemed like things had suddenly gotten a million times busier in every single aspect of his life. Album planning, new choreographies, photoshoots, brand deals, and more swarmed his daily schedule and whenever he had a break, you were nowhere to be seen. 

And just like that, an entire week passed by with Jungkook not able to see you properly or talk to you, and he absolutely hated it. Yet what he hated more was not knowing whether you were okay or not. 

As he got up from where he was sitting, he let out a small yawn before stretching out his limbs when he heard the familiar sound of faint laughter coming from outside the room. 

Eyes lighting up, Jungkook grabbed his things in a flash before sprinting out the door; eyes darting side to side, he looked down the hallway for your figure. 

“Y/N?” he called out earnestly, the hope in his heart slowly starting to deflate when suddenly he saw your head poke out of the nearby office room. 

“Yes—?!” you started, as you looked outside the room in curiosity at who called your name. Turning around, your gaze fell upon Jungkook who stood outside the dance studio, beads of sweat dripping from the tips of his hair as he stared at you. 

“Hey.” he breathed. 

“Hi.” you smiled tightly, as your heart started to race in your chest, yet this time not for the same reasons. 

“I thought I heard you—” Jungkook started with a soft chuckle when you quickly interrupted, “Did you need something? I-Uh, there’s somewhere I need to urgently be.”

Slightly taken aback, Jungkook slowly shook his head, “No, but I—” 

“Y/N, let’s go,” a voice called. Coming up from behind you, Jiho grabbed the folders you were holding in your hand before walking through the door and into the hallway. Not even sparing Jungkook a glance, Jiho only looked at you before motioning for you to follow him. 

Jungkook’s expression immediately hardened, jaw clenching as his fists tightened at his sides. He didn’t know what came over him in that instant, but within seconds he was standing by your side, his hands grabbing yours within his. 

“I need to talk to Y/N.” he stated with firm persistence. You looked up at Jungkook in surprise, his grip on your hand only tightening as his gaze remained on Jiho’s back. Turning around, Jiho’s eyes fell on both of your hands before trailing up to Jungkook’s face. 

"Sorry Jungkook, but we’re busy. Y/N doesn’t have time.” Jiho stated, forcing a smile. 

“Listen, it’ll only take five minutes—!” 

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Jiho’s entire demeanor changed instantly before he said lowly, “No, you listen Jungkook—”

Removing your hands from his grasp, Jungkook looked down at you as you moved away from him and towards Jiho. Resting a hand on his arm, stopping him from saying anything you knew he’d regret, you quietly said, “Jungkook, Jiho is right. I’m busy right now.” 

Scoffing, Jungkook looked to the side as his eyes blazed with irritation, “Whatever Y/N. Avoid me like you have been doing all week. Just don’t think you’re fooling me, I’m not that stupid.” 

With that, Jungkook turned around and made his way back into the dance room, the door slamming behind him as the sounds of loud music followed just seconds later. 

Gripping Jiho’s arm tightly, you felt a lump form in your throat as you let out a heavy sigh, “Jiho, what am I going to do?” 

Turning around to face you, he bent down so that his face was level with your own. Brushing away the stray tear that slipped out of your eyes, he whispered sadly, “I’m sorry Y/N...”

Shaking your head, you cried softly, “What for? You didn’t do anything...this is all my fault.” 

No, he thought to himself, I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the one for you. 

You thought things would only get easier as the days went by; slowly but surely, ignoring Jungkook would become normal and you’d be fine.

At least that’s what you had painfully hoped for. 

But now things were worse in ways you hadn’t even imagined. After the day Jungkook confronted you, he had made it a point to ignore you even more so than the ways you had avoided him. He refused to talk to you at all. Whether it was when you were helping style him for an event or if you saw him in the hallway, before there used to be at least small talk or some acknowledgement but now, there was nothing. 

You thought you were doing this for yourself, but your selfish wishes started to bite you back. You felt absolutely helpless, no matter what you did, nothing  seemed to work. 

Standing there in the staff break room, you yawned as you made yourself another cup of coffee. It was late at night, yet you stayed behind since you were working on a project proposal you knew you couldn’t do at home. 

Hearing the door open behind you, you turned around and greeted Jiho with a tired smile, “Hey, you’re still here?” 

“I should be asking you that.” 

“We seem to be doing a lot of that recently,” you chuckled softly, turning back towards the coffee machine, watching as the dark liquid poured into your mug, the mechanical whirring the only sound filling the small room. 

Walking over to stand next to you, he replied, “It’s only cause you’re always working yourself to the bone, even more so lately than ever.” 

Giving him a half shrug, you poured in your creamer and sugar, and stirred your coffee, “Work is just getting busier, that’s all.” 

Laughing slightly, Jiho gave you a pointed look, “Or you’re just giving yourself more work to do.” 

Humming softly, you didn’t respond since the both of you knew Jiho was exactly right. Work hadn’t gotten busier, you were just really good at making yourself busy.

“Y/N...” Jiho trailed off. Noticing the hesitation in his voice, you stopped stirring and looked up at him. 

“When are we going to talk about it?” 

Stiffening, you looked at Jiho in surprise. Blinking at him, you slowly chuckled as you started to wave your hands in denial, your typical first step of action when anything uncomfortable was presented to you. 

“And don’t tell me nothing is wrong.” 

He got you. 

You tended to forget how long Jiho knew you for at times, failing to realize he knew your characteristics and mannerisms like the back of his hand. 

Picking up your coffee mug, you took a sip as the hot liquid ran down your throat. Pressing your lips together into a thin line, you simply sighed, “Jiho, I think I’m going to quit. Working here, that is.”  

Taken aback, a look of surprise flashed across Jiho’s face, his eyes wide. If anyone knew what you were going through right now, it was him yet he didn’t think you would ever come to a decision like this. A decision where you decided to run away. 

Fists automatically clenching at his sides, Jiho felt a deep sense of anger begin to boil within him. 

“Y/N, don’t joke around,” Jiho replied lowly, as he stared at you, trying to study the expression you wore on your face. 

Shaking your head, you said softly, “I’m not. Honestly, I’ve been thinking about this for a while.” Turning around, you rested your back against the countertop, “All my life I’ve adjusted, no matter what the circumstances were. I’ve always been selfless, but this time I decided to be selfish for once.” Looking down at your shoes, you let out a bitter laugh, “Look where that got me.”

“But—” 

“Jiho,” you interrupted. Looking back at him, your soft eyes met his rigid ones, “No matter what solution I can think of that requires me staying here, doesn’t seem to work for me. I never thought it would have to come to this, you know I love working here. But...with how things are recently, I don’t know if I can continue to work here and be happy.” 

“That’s ridiculous.” 

Taken aback at the coldness in his voice, you watched as Jiho ran his hands through his hair, before letting out a sigh of frustration, “You’re telling me you’re running away? You’re going to run away because of your silly crush on him?! Y/N do you hear yourself?!” 

“Silly?!” you breathed in sharply. Your soft eyes turned cold instantly as you shot him a glare, “How could you say that Jiho?!!” 

Throwing his hands in the air, he bit back, a scowl forming on his face, “What do you want me to say Y/N? Listen, I have been there by your side since we were kids and I’ve always supported you no matter what, but this?! Quitting your job because of the guy you like?” 

“Jiho, I don’t care whether you support me or not. I’m telling you what I’m going to do and that’s it. I’m done trying to live my life because of other people, alright? I’m done!” you yelled, your chest rising with every breath as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. 

“How could you tell me my feelings were silly?!” you cried, your voice shaking with every word, “You have no right Jiho, not when you don’t know how I feel.” 

Jiho stared at you for what seemed like too long, when he finally let out a harsh breath. Rubbing his temples, he spoke softly, “What makes you think I don’t know how you feel Y/N?” 

Your brows knitted together in confusion as you stared at Jiho. His face contorted into an expression you had never seen on him before, a look mixed with years worth of hurt, despair and sadness all in one. 

“Jiho, what—?” 

“I know exactly how you feel Y/N, and I’ve been feeling it for years now—” suddenly faltering at the end, his face flushing, “I—Just, don’t tell me I don’t understand.” 

You stood there silently as the tension grew between the two of you. Even without Jiho telling you word-for-word, the thoughts that you had subconsciously ignored all this time finally crept up from the depths of mind, the thoughts that you wished weren’t true, seemed to be otherwise. Glancing back at him, your gaze softened when you saw his head hanging low, his hands clasped together tightly in front of him, a habit you knew all too well. 

“Jiho,” you started softly as you grabbed his hands within your own; however, Jiho didn’t miss the apologetic tone in your voice, as he quickly jerked his hands away. 

“I don’t wanna hear an apology, Y/N. Anything but that.” 

Sighing in exasperation, you pleaded, “Jiho, I-What do you want me to say? I-I don’t know what to tell you—” 

“Why can’t it be me?” 

Lips parted, the words faltered on your tongue as you watched Jiho finally looked up at you, his gaze suddenly different. You found him moving closer to you, causing you to inch further back, the countertop digging against your back. 

“Jiho—” 

“Tell me Y/N, why can’t it be me? When I have been here for you, all along.” he croaked as he rested his hands on either side of you, caging you between his arms as his forehead laid against yours, his face dangerously close. 

You had been this close to Jiho a number of times, but never in this way, this time, things were completely different. Before you could say anything, Jiho dipped his head down and soon after you felt his lips hesitatingly brush yours before pressing harder, pushing you gently against the countertop and kissing you with more force than before. 

As your mind fumbled around you, you stood there frozen when suddenly a voice in your head whispered a name so softly, a name that was enough for your hand to fly out and press down on Jiho’s shoulder, pushing him off of you in an instant. 

Jiho gave you a dazed look, until he took in your face.

Surprised. Shocked. Startled.

Face contorting into pure horror, all the color drained out of his face as he spluttered, “Y/N, I—” when you shook your head softly, unable to even look him in the eye.

“I-I need to go, I—” you stammered. Squeezing out from between Jiho and the countertop, you rushed towards the door. However the second you opened it, you felt your heart go still, the world and everything in it coming to a full stop. 

dun dun dunnnnnn

[olliepig]

Centre Stage chapter 11

Many, many thanks as ever to the wonderful @willow-salix for her patience while I swore repeatedly about this and for her amazing betaing skills that then knocked it into shape. 

As always, it’s also available on AO3 here.

*******************************

Pausing for a second to centre himself, Scott pushed all thoughts of the rescue to the back of his mind, carefully tucking them away to deal with another day. It had only been a matter of hours since he had last been there to drop his bags off before going to meet Cat, but it somehow felt like a lifetime ago.

Taking a deep breath, he slid the key card into the lock and pushed the door open. A blur of movement caught his eye as he stepped into the room, and he just had enough time to brace himself when Cat launched herself at him, flinging her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder.

Not sure what he had done to deserve such a welcome, he let the door slam shut behind him, grabbing her and pulling her into him, the warmth of her body beginning to counter the chill that had been bothering him since he had left the rescue site in the Alps an hour before.

“You’re freezing,” she shrieked, clearly thinking twice about her actions as she tried to wriggle out of his grip.

“Yup, but you’re nice and warm,” he responded, tightening his grip to prevent her from escaping and taking all her nice body heat with her. Usually, the adrenaline from a rescue was enough to keep him warm until a hot shower in the hangars back on the island could take over and heat him through but this time, the cold seemed to have permeated his bones and he wasn’t sure he would ever feel warm again.

Knowing that he was far too strong for her to escape from without resorting to underhand tactics, Cat softened, leaning into him and lulling him into a false sense of security as she slid a hand up under his jumper, his soft skin cool to her touch.

“Distraction isn’t going to help you,” Scott tried to inform her, the small sigh that he let out as she gently ran her nails down his back suggesting otherwise.

“I wouldn’t dream of distracting you,” Cat purred as he dipped down to kiss her softly. “I just thought of something that could help you warm up a bit.”

“I’m listening...”

“Well, they always say that exercise is good for that sort of thing,” Cat breathed, struggling to maintain her composure as he trailed kisses down her neck.

“They certainly do,” Scott murmured. “And what kind of exercise did you have in mind exactly?”

“This!” Cat cried, finding the base of his ribs and tickling him mercilessly as he yelped in surprise, struggling to get away while she hung on as best she could, his infectious laughter making her giggle helplessly.

Breaking free, Scott launched himself towards the bed, grabbing a pillow and lobbing it at her to stop the onslaught.

“Not fair,” he complained, his smile undermining the sincerity of his protests.

“What? It got you moving and I bet you’re not as cold any more,” Cat defended, trying not to laugh at his wounded expression as she held another pillow up as a shield, ready to defend herself in case of further attacks.

“You might have a point there,” Scott admitted, realising that he no longer felt quite so chilled. “But still, I call bullshit on those tactics. I can think of plenty of better ways to warm up.”

“I bet you can,” Cat agreed, raising an eyebrow and giving him a wink. “But you’re going to have to satisfy yourself with this for now I’m afraid. I ordered some dinner for you which’ll be here soon, and I think a nice hot shower would be much more effective in the longer term.”

“Spoilsport,” Scott grumbled good naturedly as he picked another pillow off the bed and half heartedly chucked it in Cat’s direction as she made her way back over to him. “Hello by the way.”

“Hello,” Cat murmured as she wound her arms around his neck, lifting herself up on her tiptoes to ghost a kiss over his lips. “Glad you’re back.” “Me too,” Scott murmured, dropping his forehead down to meet hers as the stresses of the preceding hours seemed to vanish. “Thanks for ordering some dinner for me. I’m famished.” “I thought you might be,” Cat smiled, glad that she’d been able to provide at least a little help. “It’s nothing massively exciting but it’s hot and nourishing so it’ll do you good. You still feel cold though so you should get that shower.” “I think I might,” Scott agreed, feeling the chill beginning to inch back into his consciousness as they stood quietly together.

“Off you go then,” Cat encouraged, dropping her arms and smacking him smartly on the ass as she moved away to pick up the scattered pillows. “Get yourself all nice and warm and then you can tell me all about the rescue when you're done.”

Something in the tone of her voice made Scott look up in alarm. Watching his reaction, there was a shrewdness in her eyes that he was sure hadn’t been there just moments earlier, making him wonder what she was thinking. Looking away quickly, he grabbed his clothes from the wardrobe and hurried into the bathroom, keen to get away from her unwavering gaze that seemed to strip him bare without even trying.

Watching him go, Cat shook her head slightly. It was no wonder she hadn’t picked up on anything being wrong, she thought. He had seemed his usual self right up until she mentioned the rescue, and even then, if she hadn’t been looking for it, she doubted she’d even have spotted the momentary discomfort that skittered across his face before he returned it to its usual calm.

Her conversation with Selene had turned up a lot of surprises, none of which were pleasant, but what had shaken her the most was how well he had hidden them from her. Trust was so fundamental to her that discovering that he had been hiding things had sent a flash of anger through her, but the hour she’d had to let the revelations sink in had allowed her the space to realise that there was a world of difference between lying and simply neglecting to mention things.

Well, he wasn’t going to get away with doing either, she thought, as she straightened the bed back out and picked up her book. She was going to make damn sure he was honest with her about what was happening because this time, he had no choice. She already knew.

-x-

“Feeling better?” Cat asked as Scott pushed his plate away, having made short work of the burger that had been waiting for him when he had gotten out of shower.

“Much,” he smiled as he pushed his chair back, pausing to give her a grateful kiss before flopping down onto the small sofa that sat in a corner of the room. “Thanks again for this,” he added, gesturing back to his empty plate. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be colder and hungrier, that’s for sure,” Cat laughed, settling herself beside him and handing him the glass of water that he’d left on the table. “But you’d also be on a tropical island right now too, so maybe the cold wouldn’t have been such an issue.”

“That’s a fair point,” Scott agreed, taking a sip before putting the glass on the little table beside him. “I think I’d rather be here though.”

“I bet you would,” Cat replied, one eyebrow raised. Her tone was teasing, but when Scott met her eyes, he felt a shiver of apprehension run through him although he wasn’t entirely sure why. “So, how was the rescue?”

Cat had determinedly kept the conversation on neutral topics while he ate, keen for Scott to have at least a little downtime before he was faced with questions that she knew he would find uncomfortable, but now there was nothing to stop her. As the evening had worn on, her initial anger at finding that she had been left in the dark had subsided more and more, replaced by a desire to help in any way that she could, even if that was just letting him know that he was supported.

“It was fine,” Scott replied, finding himself strangely unable to meet her gaze even though he knew her eyes were on him, hating the secrecy that he was having to maintain.

“Just ‘fine’?” Cat pressed, trying to give him the chance to open up to her by himself. “You usually have a lot more than that to tell me when you get home. I assume you managed to get everyone OK?”

“Yeah, it was pretty simple in the end,” Scott confirmed, risking a quick glance up at her before looking around for something to fiddle with but coming up empty.

“So how did you do it? Was it hard to work out the best course of action? C’mon, Scott, you’re usually full of stories when you tell me about these sorts of things. Did something happen?”

“No, nothing like that,” Scott reassured her with a sigh, trying to buy himself some time as he picked his next words carefully. “By the time we got there, Dad had already been in touch with the authorities, so it was just a case of following the plan that they’d come up with and getting the climbers to hospital. Nothing more exciting than that.”

“If there were only a couple of them to rescue and it was that simple then it doesn’t seem like they needed you at all,” Cat observed, watching him carefully to see how her words landed.

“Maybe,” Scott conceded. “But it’s always better to be overmanned than find you need an extra pair of hands halfway through.”

“I guess so,” Cat mused, frustrated that she could see the logic in the argument despite knowing that they’d managed perfectly well when Scott had been on leave in the past.

“I know it was annoying today, but I can see why Dad wanted me there,” Scott bluffed, trying to disguise his discomfort by taking her hand and placing a soft kiss on her knuckle, attempting to smooth things over so they could move onto a safer subject. “You never know if a situation might change so it does make sense.”

“That's true, but don’t you usually wait til you get to the rescue site to make plans rather than finalise everything before you’re there?” Cat continued, watching him closely as she focussed on the inconsistencies in what he was saying based on how she knew they’d always worked in the past.

She could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe what he’d just said and wasn’t fooled by his bid to distract her. With the benefit of her new knowledge, it seemed painfully obvious that he was covering for Jeff, but instead of anger, the only question in her mind was why he wasn’t willing to tell her what had been happening and allow her to help.

“That’s how we did it before, but we didn’t have the benefit of Dad’s experience then, so things have changed a bit over the last few months,” Scott answered smoothly, wondering what had happened that made him so able to defend actions that, in all honesty, he was deeply unhappy about.

“And how do you feel about that?”

“It’s fine,” Scott dismissed, finding it very difficult to look at her as he found himself caught between his loyalty to his dad and the commitment he’d made to be completely honest.

When Cat didn’t answer immediately, he allowed himself a moment to hope that he’d gotten away with it for now. He knew he was going to have to tell her what was going on at some point and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to seek her support, but she had been so stressed about her upcoming performance that he hadn’t wanted to burden her with it until it was over.  

Rolling his shoulders to release some of the tension, he felt the silence stretching between them in a way that it hadn’t before. It wasn’t their usual comfortable quiet, and he could see from Cat’s expression that her brain was working overtime.

She knows, a little voice in his head supplied unhelpfully, sending a cold rush of dread through him.

She never normally pushed him for information about rescues, but his guilty conscience knew exactly what she’d been getting at by the questions she was asking. He hated lying to her, but his loyalty to his dad was absolute and he couldn’t bring himself to actually admit what was happening. Not after pouring his heart out to her about his hopes for the future on the last night they were together before their fathers rescue from the Oort cloud.

“What did John mean earlier when he mentioned your dad?” Cat asked, changing tactics and going for the direct approach.

“Nothing,” Scott snapped, looking up in alarm as he made a last-ditch effort to avoid telling her what had been happening. The expression on Cat’s face didn’t inspire him with confidence that his plan would work, her raised eyebrow daring him to come clean.

“Really? Cos the way you reacted didn’t make it seem like nothing.”

Scott sighed, suddenly feeling very, very tired. “It really was nothing. Can we drop this?”

“No, we can’t,” Cat replied sharply, her refusal to leave it taking him by surprise. She didn’t challenge him often, but he’d discovered to his cost that when she did, resistance was futile as she was always holding a trump card of some sort. “I don’t believe you, and I know for a fact that there’s stuff here that you’re not telling me.”

“And how do you know that exactly?” Scott bristled, hating the fact that he was being called out but hating even more that he’d done something to deserve it.

“I spoke to Selene.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Cat replied, doing her best to keep her voice steady as anger that it had come to this surged through her. “I’m your girlfriend, Scott, not some random person you hooked up with. When we agreed to make a go of this, we promised not to keep anything from each other, so you need to stop shutting me out. We’re supposed to be a team. I should not have to resort to calling Selene to find out what’s been happening.”

“You’re right,” he whispered, his head dropping as a wave of shame washed over him at the lengths that he’d driven her to by trying to protect his dad and maintain that everything was OK. “I’m sorry,” he added as he met her eyes, expecting them to be full of anger but instead only finding love and compassion.

Cat’s anger had evaporated the second she saw him visibly deflate as her words hit home, and by the time he looked back up at her, she was calm again, wanting only to help in any way she could. Needing a physical connection between them, she shuffled along the sofa, tucking herself in next to him and wrapping her arms around him, pulling him into her as she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“I might not be able to solve anything,” she whispered softly, resting her head against his, relieved to find him leaning back into her, “but I can listen.”

In fits and starts, the whole story poured out. Cat listened in quiet sympathy as Scott confirmed what Selene had already told her about how they had all been slowly pushed aside, their professional opinion counting for nothing against Jeff’s, leaving his role hollowed out and reduced to the barest bones. Feeling the frustration rolling off him, it took everything in her power to stop herself from interjecting and voicing her opinions on the matter as he described the times he had been forced to defer to someone who didn’t have the experience of their new equipment and protocols that he did, slowly eroding his love for what he did, leaving him trapped in his duty to his family and unwillingness to challenge his dad.

“I just never expected it to go like this when he got back,” he admitted quietly when he was done, sagging into her as she rubbed gentle circles on his back.

“I know, but there’s no shame in admitting that things haven't gone the way you thought they would,” Cat replied reasonably, giving him a squeeze for support.

“I just didn’t want to let anyone down,” he sighed, sitting back and taking a sip of water before continuing. “I didn’t want to worry you either. You’ve been so stressed about these shows coming up that I didn’t want to burden you with it all.”

“I can understand that, and I do appreciate that you were thinking of me, even if it was a bit misplaced,” Cat reassured him as she shifted to face him, draping her legs over his lap.

“Truth is, it all started so slowly that I wasn’t even really aware of it,” Scott continued, wanting to give her some explanation as to why he hadn’t been honest with her about it from the start. “It was just little annoyances that didn’t seem worth mentioning that eventually built up into a big annoyance that’s been there in the background for a while. By the time it reached that stage, it seemed a bit late to tell you about it and I guess I thought I’d be able to handle it without you knowing.”

“And you were nearly right,” Cat smiled, stifling a yawn that she’d been trying to hold in for the last five minutes. “If it wasn’t for your reaction to the callout earlier, I still wouldn’t have picked up on it. Not yet anyway. But when you were a bit funny about talking about it, I started thinking back over things and a lot of stuff pointed to there being an issue there that you weren’t wanting to discuss.”

“You’re like a bloody bloodhound when you get a sniff of something being wrong,” Scott remarked fondly. “One of these days I’ll learn that it’s pointless trying to keep anything from you.”

“It sure is, especially cos you’ve got Selene to contend with too. You might as well just accept that you’ve got two people here who love you and who are gonna work together to make sure you’re OK.”

“It certainly seems that way,” Scott agreed with a wry smile as Cat yawned again. “I think it might be getting towards someone’s bedtime.”

“I think you might be right there,” Cat smiled, spinning herself around and using Scott’s leg as a hand hold to shove herself off the sofa. “C’mon then, you joining me?” “Try and stop me,” Scott grinned as Cat started peeling the covers back, the soft bed looking very enticing. “It’s been a long night all round.”

Exhaustion hit him as he finished the sentence, and a face splitting yawn was only moments behind, making Cat giggle. As they got themselves ready, he realised just how long a day it had been, starting on the island before taking in the sights of St Petersburg, a rescue and a difficult but necessary conversation.

“I’m so sorry, I kept you up and I haven’t even asked about how you’re feeling about tomorrow,” Scott apologised, as they stood together in the bathroom, fighting for space at the sink to do their teeth.

“Don’t be stupid,” Cat mumbled through a mouthful of toothbrush before taking it out so she could continue unencumbered. “There'll be plenty of time in the morning for me to tell you all about how I’m feeling, don’t you worry about that.”

“But I wanted tonight to be about you and what you’re about to achieve tomorrow and all that’s gone now,” he objected, struggling to shake the feeling of selfishness that was creeping over him.

“You needed this tonight and to be honest, so did I,” Cat told him firmly, rinsing her toothbrush and dropping it back into the cup that she’d designated for the purpose. “You know what I’m like. I couldn’t have focussed tomorrow if you hadn’t been honest tonight, so thank you. I love you and if something is bothering you then I need you to tell me.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“Absolutely. We can start again tomorrow, so let's get some sleep and if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll be the focus of all your attention in the morning,” Cat reassured him with a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving him in the bathroom to finish up before he could answer.

Dozing off later with Cat held securely in his arms, he realised that she was right. Even though he hadn’t wanted to talk about it, it had been the best thing for both of them, leaving his mind at peace for the first time in what felt like months. They were a team, and a smile crept over his face as he remembered that he had something very important to ask her in the morning.

-x-

“Surprise,” Scott cried with barely contained glee, flinging his arm out to direct her attention to his handiwork.

Peering through the cloud of steam from the shower that she’d just unleashed into the room, Cat took in the scene before her. The previously empty table was groaning under the weight of plates, each covered in a silver dome to keep whatever mysteries they contained hot. A large coffee pot and big jugs of water and orange juice completed the feast.

“There’s so much! This is amazing,” Cat exclaimed, hurrying over to investigate as Scott began uncovering the plates, revealing portions of all her favourite breakfast items.

“Don’t worry if you can’t eat it all though,” Scott added, taking the opportunity to place a kiss on her cheek on his way past as he continued to bustle around, wanting to make sure everything was perfect before settling down to eat. “I didn’t want you to go short and I wasn’t sure what the portion sizes were like, so I decided to treat it like our own personal buffet and just get a bit of everything.”

“Aww, thank you, that’s very thoughtful,” Cat smiled, “What made you decide to do all of this?”

“Well, I know you don’t like to eat very much before a show, so I wanted to make sure you’re all fuelled up for your big day,” Scott explained, pulling a chair out for her and offering a napkin with a flourish before taking his own seat. “Anyway, I wanted to make up for stealing your limelight last night so I thought this could be a nice way to start the day together instead of going down to the restaurant with everyone else.”

Cat couldn’t help but smile. His thoughtfulness astounded her every time and even though he had nothing to make up for, she very much appreciated the sentiment as it meant they got more precious time together. Wordlessly, she reached out and cupped his face with her hand, the roughness of the faint stubble on his jaw contrasting with the soft skin under his eye as she gently traced her thumb across it.

A small sigh escaped Scott as he leant into her touch, the worries of the previous days melting away as his eyes closed involuntarily. All he was aware of was the present and the woman in front of him who seemed to know exactly what he needed. Turning his head slightly, he captured her palm with his lips in a gentle kiss as he met her eyes, a smile creeping onto his face at the love he found contained there.

They stayed like that for a moment, transfixed by each other until the smell of bacon and a loud growl from Cat’s stomach finally broke the spell, sending them blinking back into reality. Flashing a smile at him, Cat was the first to move, surveying the feast before grabbing a slice of toast.

“So, how’re you feeling about the show?” Scott asked, breaking the silence as he began piling eggs and bacon onto his plate.

“Nervous,” Cat replied, not even looking up from where she was pouring herself a glass of orange juice. “But it’s Swan Lake so the day I don’t get nervous about dancing it, I’ll probably be dead. That would be like you not having that rush of adrenaline when a rescue gets called in.”

“Fair point,” Scott chuckled, reaching over the table to skewer a sausage with his fork.

“It’s been amazing though,” she added as she slathered a thick layer of butter onto her toast. “Getting to rehearse in the studios where it was first created has been incredible. There’s so much history here. I never thought I’d be lucky enough to do anything like this.”

“You’re not lucky, you’ve worked really hard and you deserve this chance,” Scott told her firmly, not for the first time.

“I don’t know,” Cat replied doubtfully. “I mean, I have worked hard and it’s not like I’ve not danced this before, but you should see the rest of the company, Scott. They’re all so tall and flexible. Their extensions are up around their ears and their port de bras are enormous but they’re also just so expressive. And then there’s little old me.

Cat paused for a moment, taking a sip of her orange juice as she collected her thoughts a bit.

“It’s definitely a style of dancing that’s very different to what I’m used to. And the stage is so big. I can see why they make their movements so huge because otherwise they won’t be seen up at the back of the auditorium but it’s so opposite to how I usually dance. I’ve always liked the little nuances but it feels like I’ve lost a lot of them in the process here.”

“OK, I understood maybe a third of that,” Scott admitted when it seemed like she’d run out of steam, glad to see that she smiled at his response. “But you said before that the steps are the same, so can’t you just do it your way? Surely that’s why they invited you here in the first place?”

“Up to a point, yeah,” Cat conceded. “I’ve had to adapt a bit because of the rake on the stage and just so that the people at the back can see everything but it’s hard not to be intimidated by them.”

“Are they making you feel bad?” Scott bristled, ready to run straight down to the theatre and set a few things straight if he got a hint that anyone was being nasty to her.

“Not at all,” Cat replied, placing a hand on his arm to reassure him. “Everyone’s been lovely and I’ll definitely stay in touch with a few of the girls, but they’re so technically impressive that it’s been hard not to compare myself to them. You only get to the top by being better than everyone else, so it’s drilled into us from a young age to watch and learn from the competition and it’s a hard habit to break, even when you know you’re not in direct competition with them.

“You don’t need to worry about me though,” she continued. “Despite how it sounds, I’ve loved every minute of this, even the challenging ones. What is it you always used to tell me? If you don’t push yourself then you won’t grow.”

“I can’t believe you still remember that,” Scott smiled, remembering all the times he told her those exact words as she worried about whether she was going to manage dancing new and more challenging roles in her early career.

“Of course I do. I tell myself it every time I have to do something that scares me. It’s pretty much become my personal mantra now.”

“Wow,” Scott breathed, feeling strangely touched that something he had said had stayed with her all those years, even after their breakup.

“So, is there anything you’re wanting to do this morning?” Cat asked, cutting through Scott’s reverie.

“Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you about,” he replied, his heart rate shooting up now that the moment had arrived.

“Go on,” Cat encouraged, her interest piqued by the way he had shifted in his seat, sitting up straighter than he had before.

“You know we have a charitable arm of Tracy Industries, don’t you?” Scott started, feeling strangely like he was in the boardroom, making a pitch to a group of investors. Given the nerves that were making his mouth almost unbearably dry, he sort of wished that he was.

Cat nodded in reply, her mouthful of omelette making it impossible to answer properly as she wondered where on earth this was heading.

“Good,” Scott nodded, taking a small sip of water to try and make speaking a little easier. “Well, your conversation with Virgil about funding for dance training, when he was at the theatre with Lily, really stuck with him, and he spoke to me afterwards about whether there was any way in which we could help.”

“OK,” Cat replied warily. She’d never seen Scott in business mode before and the total change in his demeanour from his usual relaxed self to consummate businessman took her by surprise and his formal language made her sit up and take note. It wasn’t that she didn’t know that he must do it at work, but he’d certainly never spoken to her as if he was giving a pitch to investors before and, while she thought she could see where he was going with this, she had no idea what it had to do with her.  

“We ran some figures when we got home and, by increasing the budget a little, we reckon we can actually do something to help there.”

“Scott that’s amazing,” she cut in, delighted that her hunch had been right.

A burst of warmth spread across Scott at her response making him smile at the knowledge that, so far, she was pleased with his plan. That definitely boded well for the rest of what he was wanting to ask her.

“So,” he continued, trying to remember the carefully rehearsed pitch that he’d gone over in his head what felt like a million times. “Rather than just giving a one off donation to your old school or setting up a scholarship, we thought it would be better to do something more substantial that would be beneficial to more than one child. With that in mind, we’re planning to set up a charitable foundation that’ll focus on giving the widest range of support we can to young dancers who might not have the chance otherwise.”

“I genuinely don’t know what to say,” Cat choked, her eyes welling up slightly at the thought of the difference she knew something like that could make. “You should speak to Penny about it. She’d be really good at telling you the sort of stuff they might need.”

“Well, we could do that,” Scott continued, unable to stop grinning. “But Virgil and I talked it through and we’d both like you to come on board and help shape what help we can offer.”

“What?” Cat squeaked, her joy turning to terror at the thought of being responsible for such a big thing. “Me? But I don’t know anything about running a business.”

“You don’t have to, I’m not asking you to run it,” Scott soothed, his heart plummeting at the realisation that she wasn’t jumping at the chance like he thought she would. “You’d be there in an advisory role. We’ve spent a lot of time researching things and we think we’ve got a basic grip on it but you’re the expert here. You can shape this thing into whatever it needs to be in order to give the most help to the most kids. What do you say?”

“I don’t know, Scott,” Cat sighed. “I’ve never done anything like this. I don’t think I’d even know where to begin with working out how to make it work.”

“And that’s why I’m here,” Scott encouraged, reaching over the table to take her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll do it together. You tell me what the kids we’re trying to help might need, and I’ll make it happen.”

“Well, I guess it could be OK,” Cat mused, possibilities starting to crowd into her head now that she knew she wasn’t being asked to step entirely out of her comfort zone. “The obvious thing would be some help with fees and uniforms. Oh, and shoes. Shoes are a big one, especially for the girls.”

“See, that's exactly the sort of thing we need you to tell us,” Scott encouraged, letting himself breathe again now that she seemed to be warming up to the idea. “I know you go through a lot of them but I didn’t know it was a problem for everyone.”

“Yeah, you go through them constantly while you’re training too, and they’re not cheap,” Cat replied, her mind working overtime now that she was thinking about it more clearly. “Maybe some coaching for kids if they’re wanting to go to full time ballet school too. It’s not something everyone can afford but it makes so much difference.” “Again, that’s not something I’d have thought of. You’re a natural at this.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Cat deflected, a tell-tale heat rising on her cheeks at the compliment. “I’m just thinking of what I wish I’d had and going from there.”

“And that’s exactly why we want you to work with us on this,” Scott implored her. “Think of the difference you can make to other kids coming from a similar background to yours.”

“OK,” Cat declared, sitting up straighter and holding out her hand to shake his. “I’m in. I don’t know anything about business and I’ve never done anything like this before, but your old mantra still stands here as well as it does for dancing. If I don’t push myself, I’ll never grow and I’ll always wonder what I could have done if I’d taken this opportunity.” “It’s a deal,” Scott beamed, taking her hand and shaking it much more vigorously than he’d have dared if it had been a business associate. “Welcome on board, Miss George.”

“Why thank you Mr Tracy,” Cat giggled. “I look forward to working with you.”

[timeforelfnonsense]

Between Heaven & Hell

Astarion x Dafni

Rating: M (no spice but its mentioned) 

Ao3

Inaleth Sweet is a D&D oc belonging to one of my dear friends @ladyofthelatke from one of our old games. We were talking about Dafni liking romance novels and realized she'd be a fan of Inaleth. A fun little easter egg! The name of Dafni's book was also brainstormed by our D&D party! I don't know that I love the ending but meh!

Sunshine & Starlight: My on going bg3 series 

Downtime for Dafni had become rare and fleeting in the past few days. Not that she mined being busy! She’d never been much good at sitting still. Her mind moved from thought to thought as quick as a hummingbird’s wing. A life of adventure rather agreed with her breezy disposition, that was a silver lining among the mess at least. But she found herself road-weary and overextended. Perhaps it was the tadpole or the fact she’d been in more battles in two days than she had in the last year. She couldn’t be sure. Either way, a little idle time would be good for her.

She was lounging on her belly in a grassy patch on the river bank, idly flipping through the dog-eared pages of a novel bound in soft pink leather, Between Heaven and Hell scrawled across the cover in faded gold lettering. It was a rather risqué account of an amours elf torn between the affection of her aasimar and a tiefling suiters. The first in a series penned by one Inaleth Sweet of Waterdeep -  A fellow eladrin and personal favorite author of Dafni’s. She’d read it dozens of times but it never failed to enchant and intrigue her. 

She’d always enjoyed reading. It was the only time she could bring herself to be (mostly) still. She could lose herself in the colorful whimsy of her imagination. She’d always been a romantic. Her headful of silly daydreams of love and adventure from a tender age. She had spent days on end in her village imagining what the world might be like beyond the shelter of Peleira and the familiar forests and shores of Faerie-Gwynneth. Books provided her wanderlust an outlet in the years before she crossed into the Material.

A pale hand snatched the book from her hands pulling her back to reality. Astarion glanced down at her with a mischievous grin, raising a singular angled brow. She clumsily fumbled to her knees attempting to reclaim it from him but Astarion simply raised the novel out of her reach. 

He looked almost ethereal, shrouded in the soft, peachy glow of sunset as he flipped through his stolen prize. His loose undershirt was unbuttoned almost to his navel showing off his lanky feline-esque physique. It was completely unfair for him to be that gorgeous! Somehow he managed to mix boyish charm with noble dignity. She imagined Astarion was very much the kind of man humans pictured when they talked about the peerless beauty and grace of the elves. 

“My, my, Daffodil, I never pegged you as a consumer of salacious novels. Aren’t you just full of surprises?” He said through a chuckle as he began to thumb through the pages, “You fold the corners of your books? And I thought I was despicable!” 

He might have been from the Material Plane but he had that spark of mirth common to those hailing from her homeland. It was a welcome change of pace. She’d found he could be quite charming (when he wasn’t being surly or aloof). He’d taken to treating her with teasing endearment as of late.  He would refer to her by little diminutives such as darling or dear. That was when he wasn’t calling her by that twee pet name, Daffodil. She knew that the majority of his doting was little more than suave twaddle but she couldn’t help but be won over by him.

 There were things about himself he’d clearly chosen not to disclose. She was never one for secrets but she could hardly begrudge others for having them. Astarion’s omissions were likely connected to whatever had made him so prickly in the first place. She was curious of course but she wasn’t going to press him for anything he was unwilling to give.  Dafni understood relationships much the same way she did gardens. Both required patience and dedication in order for something beautiful to flourish. She earnestly hoped a genuine friendship could blossom between them but that meant allowing him to open up to her in his own time no matter how badly she wanted to bombard him with a-million-and-one questions. 

 “What have I done to deserve this roguery?” 

“Roguery?” Astarion snickered.

“Roguery.” She repeated. “Now find your own way to pass the time and give me mine back!”

Her brows stitched, her lower lip forming that perfect little pout of hers. She was trying very hard to appear cross but her eyes gave her away. They were sparkling with impish delight as she made another valiant effort at retrieving the silly thing. Despite her tilt towards clemency, Dafni was a bit of a puck. 

“This is my way of passing the time. I can only wander among the trees so many times before the novelty wears off. Besides, making you blush is far more entertaining.” 

Dafni snorted a blite smile forming at the corners of her plump lips, “You are incorrigible, you know that right?”

“So I’ve been told.” 

“Well, I suppose if you are that bord I could read to you?” She yanked the book from his hands, clutching it to her chest smug and victorious. Reaching out with her free hand to tap a finger on the tip of his nose. “But, I’m skipping all the dirty bits!” 

“Spoilsport.” 

“It’s that or walking around the woods for the hundredth time.” 

“You do raise an excellent point.” He sighed carefully arranging himself on the grass beside her, “Very well, I’ll agree to your stipulations.” 

“Just be glad I’m not going to make you read for one of the characters! And because I’m just so sweet I’ll even start from the beginning for you.” 

He listened intently as Dafni delivered the tale as if she were performing a one-woman play. Her face was adorably expressive as she changed her voice with each new character. Messy curls bouncing with every animated gesture. Occasionally she’d trail off feigning horror at the ‘dirty bits’ as she called them.

 What would lewd words have sounded like in her lilt voice? Part of him wanted to find out right then. That wasn’t the first time such musings had crossed his mind. Dafni had made a few appearances in his private thoughts since their meeting. She had a coy, maidenly allure that conjured up all kinds of tempting images. These were nothing more than flights of fancy but fun nonetheless. Just another benefit of keeping her around.

He found himself lingering around her almost on instinct. The joy that followed her was tangible and warm as the sun on his skin. When she was near his mind felt quieted and the fear that gnawed at him would soften just a tad. He had grown to genuinely enjoy her company. He’d expected her to be dull and overly pious. Instead, he found she was rather amusing, coquettish even. She was witty and observant, always having a playful quip at the ready. The sort of whimsical woman whose effortless charm drew people in. She would have made an excellent vampire if not for her ridiculous soft heart.

Her compulsive need to care for every living thing  with a sob story was somewhat vexing but he could hold his nose and deal with it most days. He’d make a comment here and there but really that was for her own good. She was painfully naïve, always seeing the best in people. It was clear to him Dafni’s life had been gentle. Free of hardships that might have taught her to approach others with such little skepticism. 

A part of him was grateful for her lack of suspension.  He knew gaining the trust of at least one of the members of the party would be crucial if he intended to enjoy the benefits of traveling with a group long term. Her friendship and propensity for peace making provided him with no small measure of safety. Still, that safety was at risk if she continued to offer herself up on a silver platter to every soul with even the smallest tale of woe she came across.

He glanced over at her, a found (begrudging, but found nonetheless), smile on his lips. The last rays of the setting sun casting its light on her lovely cherubic profile. While his motivations for befriending her had been far from altruistic having her near made his life provable better. When they’d first met he’d assumed her kindness would come at a price but she had surprised him, wanting nothing but his company in exchange. Without thinking he reached out cupping her cheek in his hand. The freckles, sage skin was unbearably soft  and warm against his cool palm. Her heartbeat quickened bringing his attention to the tantalizing, wildflower sent of her blood.  She leaned in close her eyes fluttering closed- 

“We should head back to the others, it’s getting dark.” Astarion muttered, pulling back from her.

“I- Ha, of course. It’s late…” Her lower lip was caught in her teeth, her eyes darting ever so quickly from his mouth back to his eyes. 

As tempting as she might be he was already in too deep with her. If he kissed her, he’d only want more. Any change to the current dynamic could disrupt the fragile safety he’d acquired. He couldn’t put himself at risk for the temporary happiness she might have brought. Perhaps when things were more settled. When he knew he could afford the risk, he would know the taste of her lips. For now though, he would have to resist. 

[judesommer]

[ JUDE SOMMER. 36. FEMALE. SHE/HER] is here! They’ve lived in Silver Lake for [ 3 YEARS ] and are originally from [ SAN FRANCISCO, CA ]. They are a [ PARK RANGER ] and in their downtime love [ TRAVELING ] and [ JOURNALING ]. They look a lot like [ JENNY SLATE ] and live [ IN REDCLIFF ]

LINKS

stats

wanted connections

musings

playlist

pinterest

ABOUT JUDE

birthday:

may 13, 1985

sexuality:

bisexual

astrology:

taurus ☀, leo ☾, aquarius ↑

traits:

stubborn, friendly, calculated, adventurous, passionate, affectionate, resentful, closed-off, insightful, independent, quick-witted, resilient, private, self-assured, motivated, clumsy

aesthetic:

redwood trees, sundresses, farmer’s markets, sage green, curly hair, scribbled notebooks, airplane windows, mountain tops, old poetry, field of poppies, hiking boots, afternoon wine, hidden details, firecracker, canine cuddles, haunted

BIOGRAPHY

[ tw: drugs, abuse, abortion - brief mentions ]

jude cecilia sommer grew up san francisco with two other siblings and found her peace in poetry and towering trees. her only good childhood memories always revolved around walking through the redwood forests and feeling so small in a world so large. it made her world, her worries, her pain seem so insignificantly small. it was her safe haven.

her parents divorced when she was fairly young and her father was quick to move on to a different life of his own. jude, nor her siblings, every really fit so well in that new life, and soon enough, her father became a mere stranger. just a simple phone call on a birthday and an empty card. he remarried and had more children, but they never felt like family to jude.

she was raised by her mother, but the word raised was a term best used loosely. her mother was dependent on just about one too many things - men, drugs, her children, the list goes on.

in the earlier years of her youth, she remembered the hostile environment she and her siblings grew up in due to their mother’s abusive boyfriend. he’d take his anger out on all of them, her eldest brother especially, and their mother continued to stand by him. her excuse was that he paid their bills and kept food on their tables. they had to be grateful.

it was then at a very young that jude experienced resentment. though she hated the man in their house, she hated their mother more for allowing them to live this way. jude grew up angry.

there was a moment of peace in the sommer household the day the awful boyfriend decided to leave their mother. despite their mother struggling with her drug addiction, there was a moment where the weight of the world didn’t feel as heavy on jude’s shoulders. but it was short-lived, fleeting just like every other happy memory.

her mother found a new boyfriend to take care of them. he felt different than the others - nice, for starters, but jude was no fool. she knew the man was shady and did illegal business to keep food on their table. he later even got her eldest brother involved in that life.

jude wanted nothing to do with her mother and the chaos she brought. she went on a different path and self-funded her way through college. she focused on the one thing that brought her peace - the trees, parks, and nature. she went to school to study environment and parks in hopes of being a park ranger.

finally, jude had a life of her own. she made new friends, people who knew nothing of her past- and she kept it that way. jude even spent a few summers studying abroad in japan, catching the travel bug pretty early on. some of her fondest memories comes from her time in japan and she still practices japanese till this day.

jude worked hard and endlessly, always saving her money so she could do the things she wanted in life. she’d travel, backpack and stay in hostiles, all the while creating travel journals and documenting her time and studies in the places explored. japan, machu picchu in peru, iceland were among her favorite places.

jude was in a serious relationship when she was in college and it felt like love. then again, what did the girl know about love? they often traveled together and study abroad in the same places.

once she graduated, she took some time off to hike the pacific northwest trails alone. it was the most grueling, exhilarating, and beautiful experience. it felt liberating and she felt stronger than ever. it made her feel like she truly broke away from the mold of her family.

still riding that high, she and her boyfriend decided to elope. it felt right in the time.

jude became a park ranger and worked for the state of california and all the state parks as she focused on paying off her student loans.

not long after, she discovered her eldest brother had gone to prison. though she loved him dearly, she kept this under wraps just like everything else about her past. not even her husband knew. she’d find time on the weekends whenever her husband was working to visit her brother. she felt sympathy for him, knowing he wasn’t lucky enough to break from that mold like she had.

a year or so into her marriage, jude discovered she was pregnant. the concept of being a mother terrified her to her very core. she and her husband had talked about having children only a few times, mostly because jude would change the subject. he wanted a family and jude didn’t want to become her mother. without telling him of her pregnancy, jude made the decision to have an abortion.

but nothing stays secret forever. her husband eventually discovered she had an abortion and he was heartbroken. of course he wanted a family, but he also wanted a wife that was willing to confide in him about those things. she never told him her fears, doubts, or her past. she was practically a friend living beside him. jude tried to defend herself, but there was no defending it. her husband couldn’t move on from her decision and the disconnect between the two caused a huge wedge between them. they decided to divorce.

jude realized then her own protective decision was already pushing her on a similar path to her mother, but she refused to become her. jude, independent as ever, didn’t need anyone but herself. even though it caused a lot of heartache, jude doesn’t regret the abortion or the decision to split.

realizing the bay area no longer felt like home to her, jude decided to move to southern california to be closer to the prison her brother was in. she rented a small house in the silver lake area and moved to working at state parks outside of los angeles. it didn’t have the same feeling of towering trees, but the amazing hikes made it worthwhile.

her brother was eventually released from prison and currently lives with her until he can get back on his feet. it’s nice to have him away from san francisco and even nicer to have him not behind bars.

their mother later got clean from drugs and now lives life as a single woman, on some sort of spiritual journey. she tries to have a place in her children’s life, but jude hardly allows it. jude’s brother often tries to convince jude into forgiving their mother, but it never happens fully. she will go visit with him for holidays, and though she goes in holding her tongue, it almost always ends up in a fight between jude and her mother. both can never be quiet for too long and her mother will never own up to her mistakes. it drives jude mad.

though jude had endured a lot throughout her years, she continues to find peace in nature, travel, and journals. she focuses on the little things in life and finds joy where she can. all the while presenting herself like the moon in the sky, only half there for people to see.

HEADCANONS

jude truly doesn’t share much about her past, but doesn’t come off as secretive either. but even her closest friends might learn something new every day about her that they would normally know long before with anyone else.

she rents a small two bedroom home in the redcliff neighborhood and has decorated it to her liking. it’s important for her to feel at home.

jude has an australian shepheard dog named wickett - then name coming from a star wars character.

she enjoys spending her weekends at the farmer’s market, eating fruit, and day drinking wine.

jude is always hiking, journaling/writing, and reading books she has already read a thousand times. she’s a creature of habit.

she hasn’t been in a real relationship since her husband, only hookups and casual flings.

jude is jewish, but her family never paid much attention to religion. they celebrate the holidays and would attend service one day out of the year or so.

she has several scars on her legs and two on her arms from hiking the PNW trails.

she’s into cheesy and weird things - science fiction, conspiracy theories, paranormal stuff. she says, “it makes life exciting.”

to be added ....

[gentledeaths-arc]

the prince lays comfortably with his head in thanatos' lap and he's looking up with adoration in his mismatched gaze. there's a terrible softness and a warm look on his face. "you look so pretty, than," he mumbles quietly, reaching to trace gentle death's jaw slowly. 💜

#CALLTHANPRETTY2021   /   @godbanes  :  ZAGREUS.

DEATH APPROACHES  .   —  it was cold in the house of hades. to say that something was so cold that it bothered lord death was a hyperbole in and of itself. naturally, upon first complaint, the prince zagreus had offered an alternative : to lay with him for just a moment, to be warmed by the prince’s touch in the downtime he had between this reaping and the next. soft eyes pleaded with him and a careful touch to his arm sealed the deal.

here they are, though, wrapped up in one-another in the bed commissioned from the house contractor, in quite the interesting pose. than sits upright, a book in one hand with the blankets of the bed pulled neatly across his body while the prince lays atop those blankets (but underneath a throw), head in thanatos’ lap and daze attached to the serious concentration that death was affording the text. intermittently, thanatos’ fingers have curled through zagreus’ hair, intertwining and releasing stygian locks in an attempt to pacify the prince’s rampant desire to want to shift and move. lulled into relaxation by the muffled sound of orpheus’ singing from the next room, they lay like this together for some time, enjoying the reprieve they were afforded.

it is hard being a member of the house, even now that things are changing for the better. the wars come one after the other, with famines every winter. the greeks get sick, or they are influenced by ares, or they are met with some other UNGRACEFUL END. when you are zagreus, you do not have to be cognizant of the happenings of the surface or the underworld to know that it is hard being a member. the crown sits heaviest atop his head, and in moments like this, thanatos wonders if his cold touch, his gentle touch ever helps with the burden he bears alone.

you look so pretty, than.

‘ i - what? ’   thanatos is pulled from his reading and his musing, book closing slowly and looking down at zagreus just as the prince trails his fingers across his jaw. it takes all of his willpower not to lean into his beloved’s touch, and he fails miserably, tilting his head against the other’s fingers so that he might kiss them, hold them in his own now that he was not holding the book. PRETTY. zagreus had just called him pretty. sure, he was an attractive entity : the greeks made him so. but underneath this body was a monster of disgusting proportion. he was, after all, born of the being that was born of chaos, and zagreus was familiar with the twisting proportions and winged appendages that than’s forebearer had. would he still call thanatos pretty, if he knew what thanatos looked like, TRULY ? 

the thought is not given much more mind, a black flush creeping up his throat just as it had a week ago. ‘ megaera told you, then ? ’ thanatos asks, embarrassed as he hides behind zagreus’s hand. his face disappears into the other’s palm, pressing it against his cheek while he disappears. sorry, death can’t come to the phone right now, will you take a message ?  ‘ i should have known the two of you would gang up on me when you saw how f-flustered i appear to be at that particular compliment. ’ 

swallowing his pride, he places a final kiss to zagreus’ palm, letting it go and opening the book once more. ‘ but . . . thank you, beloved. you’re beautiful, as well. but you don’t need me to tell you that. ’

[keisskyrunner]

Sweetest of Them All [Lúcio/!ShortReader]

“A little more to the right, Cio!” You called.

“Sure thing babe.” The DJ agreed easily as he slowly shifted to the side, taking care to maintain his firm grip on your ankles, steadying your balance.

“Okay almost got it! Ugh why is this shelf so high?!”

You and your boyfriend, Lúcio, were in the midst of an impromptu baking session. The idea was sparked out of nowhere while the two of you were hanging out during the downtime in between missions. You’ve been engaged in general small talk while cuddling on the recreation room couch, musing about the happenings on the base and on missions. That’s when you got the brilliant idea to bake some cookies for everyone in the base to spread a little cheer. Despite neither of you having any baking experience, your boyfriend supportive as ever, enthusiastically agreed.

Which was how you found yourself balanced precariously on Lúcio’s shoulders as you attempted to reach up for the bag of flour which had eluded the both of you when you were gathering ingredients to bake. Whose idea was it to put the flour so high up here anyway?! Sure everyone else here was practically a giant... but still! NO MATTER, with your combined height you managed to get within reach of the ingredient. Just as your fingers grasped the bag -

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS FINE DAY, MY FRIENDS?” A loud booming voice startled the both of you as the steady shoulders of your boyfriend flinched and all but disappeared beneath your feet. Hands still grasping the flour, you fell through the air with a yelp and landed on a very firm yet soft someone in a brilliant explosion of flour as if winter has come very early in the Overwatch kitchen.

Having closed your eyes as you fell, you opened them only to be greeted by the sight of your boyfriend underneath you, coated in a sprinkling of flour (you have absorbed a good amount of it on your back and hair) which contrasted with his dark cocoa skin. With the look of surprise on his face, your significant other simultaneously looked adorable and handsome. You couldn’t help but smile lovingly (and dopely) at him, your cheeks warming up as he returned it.

“Oops.” You looked up to see Reinhardt sheepishly survey the scene before him. “My bad.” You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips which only served to infect Lúcio and Reinhardt, and soon, all three of you were simply laughing uncontrollably in the flour covered kitchen.

-S-

After cleaning up the mess, Reinhardt left your company owing to prior engagements, but not before eliciting a promise to save some cookies for him. Luckily enough, the baking session wasn’t called off since the crusader was able to find another bag of flour in the top cabinet (who keeps putting them up there?!). The both of you wasted no time in getting to work, all the while humming, singing, dancing and playfully bumping into each other every once in a while.

Working together in natural sync, it wasn’t long till you found yourselves closing the oven door on your trays of cookie dough and setting the oven timer according to the instructions on the recipe. You both collasped together on the kitchen chairs, a little bit exhausted from the baking process. However, it wasn’t long until Lúcio perked up beside you, pulled out a pen from his pants pocket and looked around quickly, only to start writing on his arm after seemingly unable to find what he was looking for.

“New song?” You asked curiously. Though you had seen him get suddenly inspired by a new song before, writing it on his arm was a first.

“Mhm,” Your significant other answered absently mindedly as he concentrated on writing the notes on his arm. After a beat or two, he started to hum, as he was prone to do as he wrote. The tune sounded cheerful and uplifting, having an all-around feel good vibe. After a minute or so, he switched the pen to his other hand and continued writing on his blank arm. It wasn’t long till there wasn’t much space left.

“Hey babe could I use your arm?” Your boyfriend flashed you an excited grin as his hand continued to write. With his passion and enthusiasm, how could you ever say no to him? You offered your arm to him and he grabs your hand gently, maintaining eye contact as he lifts it up to his lips for a quick tender kiss of thanks. And then he was writing notes on your arm, the nib of the pen gliding tickishly over your skin as you tried to stifle your giggles. If anything your boyfriend looked happier than before as he continued to hum the song in his head and gently marked the notes on your skin. It was hard not to fall in love with him all over again, to love him even more intensely than you already did. But every day, he pleasantly surprised you more and more. By the time he was done, almost every single available space on your arms were filled with notes. Altogether, they made a really pretty picture.

“I really hope I don’t wash this off by accident before you can get it down on paper properly.” You frowned at your boyfriend’s masterpiece doubtfully. Wrapping his equally inked arms around you, Lúcio pulled you into his lap and pressed a reassuring kiss to your temple.

“It’s alright babe I just needed to get it down somewhere, I’ll remember most of it now that I’ve written it.” He smiled brightly at you, a hand going up to caress your cheek.

-S-

The smell of baked goods rushed to meet your senses as you opened the oven door once the timer went off and you’ve switched off the power. Carefully, so as not to burn yourself, you manoeuvred your oven mitten-clad hands to grip the the first tray firmly and pulled it out. You were delighted to see that the cookies turned out great, at least appearance wise. Setting down the tray on the kitchen table, cleared meticulously by Lúcio, you repeated the process until all 4 trays were cooling nicely in the open.

Once they were sufficiently cooled and wouldn’t quite burn your fingers, you and Lúcio carefully arranged them on plates (after making sure you’ve washed your hands of course). You left the kitchen briefly while Lúcio was transferring the last cookies to grab a notebook. Scribbling a short note to say that everyone was welcome to the cookies, you ripped out the page and returned to the kitchen. You walked in just as your boyfriend arranged the last piece.

“Looks good for us first timers.” You grinned, folding the note neatly and sliding it under the plate. “Hopefully it’ll taste as good.”

“Why don’t we try one for ourselves?” The DJ suggested, picking up the topmost cookie on one of the plates and then extending it to your mouth in a gentle offering to feed you. “Would you like the first bite, babe?” You blushed slightly at his sweet gesture.

“Sure, thanks Cio.” You accepted somewhat shyly and took a bite out of the offered cookie. Eyes widening slightly in surprise, you looked at your boyfriend. “It’s good!”

“Really? My turn to taste then.” Instead of taking a bite from the cookie, he leaned forward and licked a stray crumb from your cheek. “Mm it’s pretty sweet, probably because it’s made by the sweetest of them all.” This time, you definitely couldn’t stop the stronger blush that warmed your cheeks.

“Smooth flatterer.” You protest, hitting his arm lightly. “Now try the cookie for real.” Still grinning cheekily, the DJ did as asked, making a face of approval at the pleasant taste. “We did good!” He was however unprepared for the quick and sweet kiss you pressed to his lips. Now look who’s the one blushing!

“What?” You said innocently at the wide eyed look your significant other gave you, “there was a crumb there, I was just getting rid of it.” The comment elicited a laugh from him. Before Lúcio could reply however, you were both reminded that this was very much a shared area.

“Ew, you guys do have a room you know. Could you restrict your lovely dovey fluffy love within that space?” Hana’s voice sliced through the moment like a sharp knife on butter, though one could hear the affectionate teasing underneath the pseudo-disgusted tone.

“We’re sorry Hana,” you laughed, “we made cookies, would that make you forgive us for our transgression?” It was then that the gamer noticed the plates of cookies on the table.

Reaching for one, she examined it critically. “Hmm, not bad. Fine, just this once.” Hana made to take a bite out of it but before the cookie could come any closer to her mouth, it was snatched out of her grasp.

“Ohh a most fine speciemen of the cookie kind.” Genji held up the treat, looking at it at all angles with overly exaggerated interest.

“Hey green man, that’s mine give it back!” Hana glared at the ninja as she tried to reach for the snatched cookie while Genji moved it further and further away from her.

“I believe it is in my possession now. Winky face.” After his cheeky imitation of D.Va’s signature line, the younger Shimada took off, Hana close on his heels.

“Hana there are -”

“YOU CAN’T EVEN EAT THAT!”

“-more over..”

“NEVER SAY NEVER THERE ARE SOME THINGS I CAN STILL INGEST!”

“-here...” you trailed off as you watched the gamer fruitlessly chase the cyborg ninja who dodged her skilfully every time she came close, almost laughing maniacally. Lúcio chuckled, placing a warm hand on your shoulder.

“Well Angela’s not gonna be pleased if he ends up in the medbay.” You turned to Pharah as she shook her head indulgently at the chase happening before her. She smiled at the both of you.

“You guys made these?” The security chief asked, eyes shining brighter at the sight of the cookies. “I couldn’t help but smell it on the way in.”

“We did, we wanted to do something for the base. It’s our first time though so we hope it tastes good, please help yourself!” You answered cheerfully, offering her a plate.

“Thank you,” Pharah smiled warmly in appreciation as she took one and bit into it. “They’re exquisite! I’m sure everyone will love these.”

-S-

And sure enough they did. Some like McCree and Tracer walked in and openly helped themselves to the treats, thanking you and Lúcio when they found out you’ve baked them.

Others like Hanzo and Solider 76 basically tried to remain unseen and sneaky in getting a sample of the cookies. You caught Hanzo the first time, and he left quickly, cookie in mouth, despite you telling him it was alright to help himself to them. You would later catch sight of him sneaking out 3 cookies, giving the other 2 to his dragons who purred in delight. You smiled to yourself and pretended not to see for the sake of the Shimada’s pride.

Lúcio did have to stop Junkrat from stealing an entire plate after he tasted his first cookie. Thankfully, Roadhog ended the matter when he took the plate from his partner-in-crime and rationed each of them a reasonable share of the treats, grunting a sincere thanks. Reinhardt did come back for his cookies as promised, and made sure to let everyone in the base know how delicious he thought it was and that everyone should have a taste.

-S-

The both of you collasped into bed at the end of the day. Lúcio was quick to pull you close to him, smiling as you snuggled closer to him.

“That was pretty successful for our first time baking wasn’t it?” You whispered contentedly.

“Mhm it sure was, we should do that again sometime.” Your boyfriend replied affirmatively, a hand sliding up to cup your cheek.

“Absolutely, as long as I’m with you, I’m up for anything.” You giggled, laying your hand on top of his. Glancing down, you noticed that the shower hadn’t washed off much of the ink on your arms and the notes were still quite legible. Then again you hadn’t made much effort to scrub it off even though Lúcio had already written them down in his notebook. “We still match.”

“I like to think that these are the notes that bind us together in moments like these.” The DJ grinned.

“Smooth talker. Even if these do fade, you’ve already inked them permanently on my heart.” You smiled as you kissed the tip of his nose.

“Who’s the smooth talker now?” Lúcio teased, his smile turning tender as he gazed at you. “And you’re the song that I’ll always hear in my heart.” Cheesy as it were, as the both of you were, a warm blush dusted your cheeks only to be interrupted by a yawn that came out of nowhere. Lúcio chuckled, kissing your forehead lovingly.

“Someone’s sleepy. Goodnight babe, tomorrow is a new day.”

“Goodnight Cio, I can’t wait to hear the song tomorrow brings.”

A/N: Had the idea to write this very self-indulgent fic out during my study breaks and between this and that, darkness, light, frantic essay writing and candy mountains this is finally done! Been a bit spaced out and anxed out lately and writing this did help since Lúcio has a special place in my heart. While I may no longer be good at him (if I ever was) his cheerful upbeat personality is really brightening and encourages a sense of positivity (and we both have the same height!). I was actually writing a Lúcio/!MuteReader fic which is going to be much longer but well, that’s going to take time *laughes nervously.* Hope you guys enjoyed my fluffy self-indulgent interpretation of Lúcio >_<! Cheers with love 💕.

[erlenmeyertrash]

Road Trip

(sooOOoo this is my first ever little story headcanon prompt thing that I wrote! the thought just popped into my head- what if Thomas and the Sides went on a road trip?- and I had to get it out before it escaped my mind. It’s just a short bit of fluff + funny shenanigans- hope anybody who reads it likes it!)

word count: 1547 pairings: none cw: none (i think? if there are please let me know!)

--

“GOOOOOOOOOOOD MORNIIIING VIETNAAAAAAA-”

“WE LIVE IN CENTRAL FLORIDA. IT IS FIVE FIFTEEN IN THE MORNING.”

“Well, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the air mattress.”

Logan rubbed his eyes, slowly sitting up from his place on the couch and glancing at the blurry mess of shapes on the floor in front of him. He groggily reached for his glasses on the side table, putting them on and blinking to find an already-dressed Roman, standing with his hands on his hips, grinning broadly down at the dark lump of blankets Logan could only assume was Virgil.

“The side is not important. It’s the fact that the sun is not out,” came the groan from the blanket mound. Roman rolled his eyes and gently nudged it with his foot, the beaming smile refusing to leave his face.

“Oh, come on, Sleeping Broody! When has the sun ever dictated your morning activity?”

“Anybody else want coffee?” Logan glanced up as Patton slowly ambled into the living room from the kitchen, hiding his yawn behind a steaming mug.

“I’d like some,” Logan replied, stretching.

“Did somebody say coffee?” Thomas stumbled down the stairs, hair sticking up wildly. Roman beamed at his friend, throwing his hands in the air dramatically as Thomas hit the bottom landing.

“IT’S ROAD TRIP TIME! Are you ready, Baby Driver?!”

“Not time yet. Coffee first.” Thomas smiled sleepily but pushed past him, nearly tripping over Virgil, who groaned and threw off the blankets. Logan stepped over his unruly mess and followed Thomas’ lead.

The boys had planned this trip for months now. It was a culmination of Roman’s wild thinking, Logan’s planning, Thomas and Patton’s unbridled enthusiasm and love of company, and Virgil’s agreement that if they didn’t do it now, they would probably get too busy to ever do it in the future (his “ever-present pessi-realism,” as Roman had so eloquently put it, had done little to dampen anybody’s mood and had only encouraged them to plan it as soon as possible). It was one of their last (but definitely not the last) great adventures before they started their senior year of college- the final obstacle before officially assimilating into the real world. Between internships, study abroad, and summer theatre programs, the five had carefully and skillfully managed to block out a full four weeks to take a quasi-cross-country road trip.

Through Logan’s love for excellent and meticulous planning, he had mapped every detail of their trip just short of the best gas stations (Patton had gently pulled the laptop from his hands that night and told him to get some much-needed rest). It involved just enough of everybody’s favorite type of fun- from museum tours to beach hopping to roaming city streets to stargazing and then some- and enough bonding downtime to keep the action and adventure in balance with what could be their last summertime relaxation.

Thomas poured two cups of coffee, handing one to Logan, who accepted it gratefully. He could hear Virgil’s muttered cursing as he clambered to his feet and headed off to get changed, much to Roman’s delight.

“Roman, you’re awfully excited for this,” Thomas commented with a grin. “I thought you’d want a bit more beauty sleep?”

“Oh, please! Who can sleep when I have the best road trip playlist ever planned out for us today?!” Roman whipped out his phone, eyes practically sparkling. “It’s got everything- from classic jams to Broadway tunes to the absolute best of modern radio rages from every genre. You guys are gonna love it. I even included things suited for our own little Brendon Worry here.”

“Honestly, Roman, I am quite impressed that you have yet to run out of insults for Virgil over the years,” Logan remarked. Roman grinned.

“You may be the smart one, but creativity is intelligence having fun.”

“I have fun!” Logan protested.

“Sure you do, Necktie.”

“Your chariot awaits, my good sir!” Roman dramatically flung open the door for Virgil, who glared at his companion before clambering into the backseat. Even though they were all pretty much the same size, Virgil was the leanest- meaning he would be sandwiched between Roman and Thomas for the first leg of the drive. Patton, being one of the safer early-morning drivers, would be accompanied up front by Logan, the most attentive navigator. They were using Roman’s “chariot-” a giant gold ‘06 Ford Expedition- to make the long haul up the eastern coast.

Roman hopped in after Virgil and shut the door, leaning into his friend’s space to grab the aux cord from the front. Patton started up the car as Roman playfully ruffled his hair from behind, and Logan checked everything off his list before they were set.

“Savannah, Georgia, here we come!” Patton sang as they headed out.

“You guys are not ready for this playlist,” Roman babbled excitedly, tapping away on his phone. Virgil groaned internally. Seriously? The sun still wasn’t technically “up” yet- the first red hues were just appearing on the horizon.

Virgil jumped nearly a foot out of his seat as a man’s yelling voice came blasting through the speakers. Roman bounced excitedly in his seat, and Thomas burst out laughing.

“SERIOUSLY, Roman?!” Virgil snarled, glaring over. Roman ignored him, instead joining into the first notes from The Circle of Life. Virgil huffed, pulling his hoodie over his head and jamming his headphones over his ears. This was not going to be a good ride if he had to put up with Sir Sing-A-Lot next to him the entire time.

“Oh, come on, Virgil!” Thomas nudged him gently. “Just sing along to a few of them!”

“Maybe once I actually wake up,” he retorted, sinking down and trying to drown out the most enthusiastic modern barbershop quartet to ever exist. He found himself accidentally mouthing a few of the words and glanced up suspiciously, making sure nobody had seen, before continuing to scroll through his phone. If he saw Logan beam up at Patton, he gave no notice.

Virgil had slowly turned off his own music once he realized Roman’s playlist wasn’t entirely Disney on steroids. He gave Roman a grateful grin when even a few of his favorite songs came on, and he even laughed out loud when they all sang along to Wake Me Up Inside with just as much gusto as they did to Defying Gravity. Roman kept encouraging him to sing, but Virgil- ever the shy one- was slightly embarrassed to do so. He mainly stuck to singing the backup parts and had yet to take over a solo like the others. Even Logan had surprised the others when Zero to Hero had come on- he suddenly sang out the first note with such perfect precision that Roman nearly missed the second Muse’s line.

After the final notes of When Will My Life Begin rang out, there was a quiet beat before a trumpet softly filtered through the speakers. Patton gasped, eyes widening, and Thomas’ face lit up with joy. Logan blinked before his face broke out into a familiar grin. Roman smiled broadly, and Virgil frowned for a second.

“Where it began, I can’t begin to knowin’,” Thomas started off, and it clicked. Virgil rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. Of course. They each began to harmonize as Thomas continued, Virgil even joining in here and there. As they followed the crescendo to the chorus, each one ‘reaching out’ to another, Virgil had an idea and smirked.

“Sweet Caroline-”

“BA- BA- BAAAAAAAA… GOOD TIIIIMES NEVERRRR SEEMED SOOO GOOOOODDDDD-”

The other four were stunned into silence as Virgil practically yelled out the interjection before flawlessly continuing to the next line.

“IIIII’VE BEEN INCLIIINED-BA- BA- BAAAAAAAA…. TO BEEELIEEEVE THERE NEVER WOOUULLLLDDD, but... now I…”

Virgil slowly trailed off as he realized nobody else had been singing and glanced around. They were all just… looking at him. Frozen. Even Patton was glancing away from the road, staring into the rearview mirror with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

“What? Neil Diamond is a classic. Shut up,” he grumbled, sinking into his seat again and flipping his hoodie over his hair.

Silence.

And then-

Thomas snickered quietly. And that was it. The other four were gone.

Roman was doubled over in his seat, tears nearly streaming from his face. Logan had his head in his hands, shoulders shaking as he cracked up. Thomas had his head thrown back in his seat, his deep belly laugh cutting out over the others. Patton had to pull over and rest his head on the steering wheel, his high-pitched giggles proving too much to handle. Virgil stared at them in turn, cheeks blazing.

“He- you- I- you just- BA BA BAAA-” Roman could barely speak, cutting himself off with another howl of laughter. At his repetition of Virgil’s interjection, Thomas and Patton were sent into more peals of giggling.

“That was- the greatest thing- I never-” even Logan could barely speak, wiping his eyes under his glasses. “You just- and I didn’t- my god, that… that was the best thing!”

Virgil glanced at all of them and slowly began to join in until he, too, was doubled over in his seat.

Roman added the song to the playlist again. This was going to be the best road trip.

[siren-of-the-cortez]

Stranger Thing 3 Ep 4

As I’ve said, I’m living for Max and Eleven hanging out. And bless her soul for showing El Wonder Woman. Imagine them as older ladies now watching the Gal Gadot Wonder Woman. 

So with Heather’s parents, any of the sacrifices actually, is the Flayer kind of doing a Facehugger and pumping something into the host? Or swapping them with one of the people Billy saw in the UD? Maybe just pumping something in to use more people as it’s eyes.

Hopper rocking that split lip and uhhhhhh he got 50X hotter beating the crap out of that shit Mayor. It’s what politicians deserve.

Robin being the bad bitch she is coming through with blueprints. You go girl! And I have to reiterate that I LOVE the interactions between Steve, Dustin and Robin. The actors work very well together. 

“You die, I die.” THAT’S MY GOOD SON!

And some bonus points to Lucas’ annoying brat sister for being super savvy. And she ain’t wrong about all this being child endangerment. I respect the hustle girl.

That green goo they found is probably some sort of energy for the beams the Russians have been firing to reopen the gate. Like the dumbasses they are!

I don’t get why Jonathan is so skeptical about what Nancy is saying. One; the shit that’s happened to his kid brother for TWO FUCKING YEARS. What his mom has discovered during those years. THE ARMY OF DEMODOGS. You’d think he’d broaden his mind a smidge by this point.

And the scene between Nancy and Karen was nice. Karen in general actually showing more character than suburban mom. That she had maybe a dream like her daughter and that her daughter WILL fight for it. Her pussy took over for a bit, but she still loves her family.

Onto to whole sauna plan now. How they tricked Billy into the sauna was very clever. The whole time Billy had his breakdown, I just kept saying ‘Get away from the damn door girl.’ Billy hasn’t shown that sort of emotion since he’s been here without being a conniving little shit. Not buying any of his bullshit.

But the whole showdown between Flayer!Billy and Eleven was so damn good. Want to skin him for touching any of my kids but he got chucked hard through a wall like the damn Kool Aid man and just began running away seconds later. Prick’s made of some sturdy stuff.

And the ending seeing just how busy Billy and Heather have been. Flayer is getting another army. But, with how Flayed!Heather said “But not us.” Those Upside Down people are no doubt in those bodies. In my mind anyway. 

[daisydoctor13]

Fic: All that the morning star scattered

Kate Stewart Appreciation Week Day 2. Prompt: Kate in (or out of) love.

Summary: It was meant to be a day off, but aliens don’t appreciate the concept of weekends. When the team arrive at Kate’s house early one Sunday morning, Josh realises there is more to Kate than being Head of Scientific Research at UNIT. ~1500 words 

Kate blinked through the sleep in her eyes, frowning as she realised it was still dark. It took her a few moments to identify what had woken her at – she groaned as she saw the clock – 5:37am on a Sunday. Her bloody phone. The ringing was incessant. Clare shifted slightly and wrapped her arm around Kate’s waist, half asleep and probably subconsciously trying to prevent her from answering the phone.

She reached over, if only to stop the horrendous noise, and sighed. Colonel Shindi would only be disturbing her if it was really important. She wanted to open the conversation with something witty or sarcastic but her brain was struggling to catch up so she settled with a gruff “Hello”.

“Good morning ma’am. I’m sorry to disturb you but we’ve got a bit of a situation.”

“What’s happened?” She was more alert now, sitting upright in bed. The movement woke Clare properly and Kate absentmindedly stroked her hair.

“It’ll be easier to explain on the way, ma’am. We’re waiting outside now.”

She slipped out of bed and peeked through the blinds. Sure enough, a sleek black UNIT vehicle was sat in the road. It looked odd, out of place in the suburban environment. If it weren’t so early her inquisitive neighbours would definitely be piqued, twitching curtains. It showed the disjoint in her life; she loved her job but at home after a long day, week, month, she revelled in the separation. It was all so normal. No aliens, no Doctor, no saving the world.

“Well you’ll have to wait a bit longer, Colonel,” she yawned dramatically, stretching as she did so. “I haven’t had any caffeine yet.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am. Miss Osgood has already sorted that,” she could hear the smile in his voice.

“Fine, give me five minutes.” She hung up the phone and turned around. Clare was sitting up, properly awake now with a knowing smile, sad but proud. She knew what was coming.

They’d made a pact, as soon as Kate had realised she was serious about Clare and explained exactly what her job entailed, that they wouldn’t stand in each other’s way with work. She didn’t apologise for having to work, and there would be no long declarations of ‘I wish it didn’t have to happen’. Work was important, for both of them, and their jobs demanded a lot of time.

“I guess you’ll have to find something else to amuse yourself with now,” she smirked, lightening the mood. They had planned a lazy Sunday, lie in, walking through the woods with their black Labrador, Raven, and lunch in a cosy pub. It wasn’t the first time they’d cancelled plans last minute, but Kate still felt disappointed. She’d been looking forward to the downtime. Still, aliens didn’t understand the concept of having a weekend off, so neither could she.

Clare shrugged as she crossed the room to stroke Kate’s cheek lightly and kiss her deeply. “I’m sure I’ll manage,” she said, her voice still husky with sleep.

It was hard sometimes, leaving this. Leaving her. There were times when Kate wondered if it would be the last time they saw each other. It went unspoken, but she knew Clare was thinking it too. She tried not to worry about it and make the most of every moment they had together. She’d always made it back so far and she wasn’t going to let it change now.

*

Colonel Shindi put the phone down and nudged Josh, who was beginning to drift off in the comfort of the large leather seats.

“Look lively, Carter, Ms Stewart won’t want you napping.”

Josh glanced out of the window.

“Nice house,” he mused. “A lot better than my pokey flat.”

“Well she is the boss, on a much bigger salary than you,” he took the opportunity to remind Josh of his standing and try and instil some respect in the young Captain.

It went unnoticed by Josh as he peered out again, examining in more detail. “Surely not that much bigger that she can afford two fancy cars? Seems a bit of a waste as she’s at work most of the time,” he admired the cars for a few moments. His facial expression changed to one of revelation, it was almost possible to see the lightbulb popping up over his head. “Hang on, does she live with someone?”

Osgood rolled her eyes.

“Brilliant deduction skills there, Josh,” she sipped her coffee and chuckled at the astounded look on his face.

“But…She’s never…I assumed…She doesn’t talk about a husband. I thought she was divorced?”

The Colonel looked at him sternly.

“Why would Ms Stewart talk about her personal life with you?” Josh glanced down, only put off for a moment until his natural curiosity got the better of him.

“Have either of you ever met him? I wonder what he’s like. Maybe army? No, I can’t imagine Kate being an army wife. Not someone expecting her to be your typical stay at home wife, she wouldn’t stand for that. Maybe they met at her bridge club…although that would mean he’s probably about eighty…” He trailed off as Osgood and Colonel Shindi shared a brief smile, unseen by Josh. “Actually, it’s quite hard to imagine her with anyone else, or having a life outside of work. She is UNIT. Oooh, maybe he’s a spy and they both have secret lives…Are we allowed to tell people what we do? Do they have to be vetted –“

“Captain Carter if you don’t stop speaking I’m not going to be responsible for my actions.” Colonel Shindi interrupted, about to discipline him on respect and manners but he was cut short by the door to the house opening.

Josh opened his mouth to say something in retort but the words got lost between his brain and tongue as he took in the scene before him. There was Kate, stood in the doorway with a brunette woman, similar age and height, her shoulder length hair slightly ruffled as if she’d just got out of bed. Well, she had just got out of bed, he supposed. The woman was adjusting Kate’s scarf and smoothing the lapels on her thick woollen coat with brass buttons as Kate leaned in to kiss her. It was chaste but lingering, as if she was aware people were watching.

Osgood smiled, it was a side to Kate they rarely saw, softer and not at all like she was about to help negotiate peace for planet Earth. She had met Clare once before, knew that Kate rarely talked about her at work. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed, Osgood thought, it was that Kate didn’t like to remind herself of what could happen, who she could leave behind if anything went wrong.

*

“I love you,” Kate murmured against Clare’s lips.

“I love you too, stay safe. And try not to make the human race any more enemies than we already have.” They both chuckled and brushed their lips together once more. Kate straightened her shoulders, assuming her UNIT persona, and Clare smiled, shutting the door and most likely going back to bed.

Kate pulled her coat together, shielding herself from the pre-dawn chill, hurried to the car and climbed in. She gratefully accepted the takeaway cup from Osgood and savoured the first mouthful before she spoke.

“Blimey, everyone’s here, I do feel honoured.”

“Good morning, ma’am,” the Colonel and Osgood chorused.

She nodded her acknowledgment and turned to Josh in the seat next to her.

“Not a morning person, Captain Carter?” She joked but he merely stared at her. The car started to move off and she looked at Colonel Shindi questioningly.

“Impressive, Colonel, have you found an off switch for him?” The caffeine was slowly clearing the fog of having been woken so early.

“I rather think you found it ma’am,” he said drily, giving Josh another stern glare. He came to his senses and rearranged his face to a more neutral expression.

“Morning, ma’am. Sorry, I didn’t realise, um, just surprised, I didn’t think you were a…well, not that anyone looks like they are…but um, I hadn’t realised you were with a…someone,” he finished abruptly as Kate chuckled and Colonel Shindi put his head in his hands, despairing.

“Well, I do have a life outside of work, as do you I’m sure.” She said kindly, she didn’t want to reprimand him, he was embarrassed enough as it was. She lowered her voice slightly. “And just so you know, I don’t do labels.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, her lips twitching into a smirk.

“Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean to be rude.” Josh apologised meekly. Well, as meekly as he could manage.

“The only thing you,” she looked around at her team, “in fact, all of you, need to apologise for is turning up at my house at this ungodly hour, and stopping me from having an enormous roast dinner later today.”

She smiled, she would be happy to talk about Clare, she wasn’t a secret but Kate was aware that there was a more pressing matter than that of her love life.

“Care to fill me in?” she queried. The twenty questions could wait.

Also posted on AO3

[countessofsnark]

Thunderbirds Are Go – ‘Eye Of The Storm’

Based on a prompt by @wonderavian

The boys decide to spend some time at the farm. They have some fun, of course, but the universe has an unwelcome surprise for them in the form of a hurricane.

The sky above Kansas began to change. Grandma Tracy sighs as she notices the first signs of possible trouble on the horizon. She zips up her faithful tracksuit and follows the tantalizing smell of pancakes that has made its way to the upper floor of the farmhouse. Downstairs, the boys and Kayo have gathered around the dining room table, all but fighting over who gets the final pancake before Virgil walks in carrying another tray of steaming pancakes.

‘Last one, guys. Dig in,’ Virgil says, quickly claiming some to feed his own stomach, which has been protesting loudly for the past half hour.

Maple syrup, cane sugar, Nutella, and lots of peanut butter are handed around. They even managed to convince John to spend some quality time on Earth while EOS runs Thunderbird 5 and monitors IR’s communication duties from orbit.

‘Wow, I’m stuffed,’ Gordon sighs, loudly pushing his chair back and leaning back to give his bloated stomach some room.

‘Maybe you shouldn’t have attacked your plate like a starving wolf,’ Scott tut-tuts.

‘But they’re so good. Virgil, you are a real kitchen fairy.’

Virgil’s cheeks flush the same shade of red as the plaid shirt he loves to wear.

‘Guys, it’s just a family recipe. Nothing special about that,’ he shrugs.

‘Well, I for one am ready to handle a day of farm work,’ Alan says as he jumps up and shimmies towards the door.

‘Can’t believe Alan is excited about farm chores,’ Gordon moans. He joined his brothers thinking there’d be hammocks and porch swings galore. Instead, he was told to feed the horses and empty out their stables.

‘Remember, Gordon. Work hard, play harder.’

‘Sure, Scott. All work and no play make Gordon a very tired boy.’

‘You’re kind of enjoying the fact that he’s going to suffer through today, aren’t you?’ Virgil smirks behind Scott while Gordon shuffles out the door.

‘Yes and no. We’ve all had to learn to earn our peace and quiet. And these two will never stop surprising me. I figured Alan would put on the biggest show but seems Gordon can sulk for both of them.’

‘Well, better keep an eye on him then.’

‘Sorry, bro. I’ve got business to tend to. So I’m leaving Gordo Watch to you,’ Scott says, patting a visibly disgruntled Virgil.

‘You really are the gift that keeps on giving, Scott.’

Shortly after tea time, the grey skies darken and the breeze that’s been playing about all day intensifies.

Gordon looks up, wiping sweat off his brow. His blonde locks have sagged, much to his dismay. Maybe he’ll just have to add more gel. He looks over at Virgil, who is busy repairing Grandma’s old tractor.

How the devil does he keep that comb looking fly while lying under that smelly rusty thing all day?

The wind chimes outside the porch door begin to swing violently, their sweet tingling turning alarming as the wind sweeps them this way and that.

‘Hey, looks like the weather gods finally turned up the A/C,’ Gordon chuckles, spreading his arms and twirling like a drunk ballerina.

Virgil hoists his body from under the tractor, wiping oil-stained hands on his dirty grey tank top. He looks at the darkening sky above and squints.

Just then, a truck pulls up in the driveway. John jumps out, carrying a stack of maps and measuring equipment. Even during his downtime, he can’t help watching out for meteorological phenomena. However, to him the solitary research is also a handy way to meet his introvert needs while making himself somewhat useful.

‘That is no ordinary breeze,’ John says in a stern voice. ‘Go find Scott. We’ve got a situation.’

Alan races toward the stable, almost stumbling over the raised entrance as he pushes open the heavy wooden door.

‘SCOTT! Scott, we need you! There’s a hurri-a hurricane heading our way!’ Alan blurts out, before looking up at the haystack at the back of the barn. ‘Scott, you gotta-OH MY GOD.’

Alan covers his eyes and spins around as Scott and the girl next door scramble to cover their naked bodies.

‘Alan, I can explain,’ Scott begins, his mouth suddenly drier than a patch of Sahara.

Alan, meanwhile, is producing sounds that are a cross between heaving and crying hysterically at the sight that met his tender eyes. He doesn’t wait for that promised explanation and flees the scene.

A few moments later, Scott and his partner-in-crime have managed to slip back into their crumpled clothes. The barn door, which had been left wide open by Alan’s escape, is now fluttering and flapping madly as the wind howls all around them. Scott’s previously occupied mind has rewon its charge of blood and begins to analyse the severity of the situation.

By the time the hurricane reaches the farm and the surrounding town, it has built up to a fierce category 4. The howling wind has turned into a menacing roar, carrying all matter of swept up debris in its spinning funnel. No further time is wasted evacuating the farm. In the middle of the ensuing chaos, Alan avoids all eye contact with his eldest sibling and the pig-tailed blonde girl with whom he had been frolicking in the hay. Grandma notices the looks Scott and his would-be girlfriend have been exchanging and subtly decides to intervene.

‘Kayo and I will take her home, now you go and make sure the townspeople get all the help they can get.’

Scott understands the message behind those words and nods solemnly in their direction before scooting off to Thunderbird 1, which had been parked not too far from the farm. Virgil and Gordon, meanwhile, had been securing the farm’s storm shelter, while John is already inside, comforting a dead scared Alan.

A few hours later – which feels like an eternity to most of the Tracy boys – the storm has passed on, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. The farm is still standing proudly, built strong and unwavering by Grandma’s late husband.

As the boys, Kayo, and Grandma emerge from the shelter, Thunderbird 1 lands nearby. Scott jumps out, his hair a dusty, dirty mess, his suit torn in places.

‘Thunderbird 1, reporting for debriefing. A few houses have lost the battle with Mother Nature but no one has been injured. Mission accomplished.’

They all gather around Scott, moving in for a classic Tracy family group hug.

This has been such a hoot to write. And yes, I do think my writer’s block is over now. Welcome back, dearest Muse. 

[noidontbelieveyou-blog1]

Chapter 8: What About Now

A/N: So, I posted this on my personal Tumblr account. And, I figured I'd post it here. I am going to be taking a hiatus from writing for a while. My depression and anxiety has been flaring up worse than usual over the last few days. And I've also been having frequent breakdowns because of it. It's killed my muse, and it's not fair to my followers/readers to have half-assed work put out from me. Once Upon A Dream won't be updated. But, I will be posting two updates of this story. I love each and every one of my followers/readers. Thank you all for the love and support you have given me. Trigger warning: Mentions of suicide and miscarriage

Hannah laughed as she and the girls approached Brianna's hotel room. It had been an extremely long time since the four girls had all hung out with each other. Due to Brianna's injury and her rehab, she wasn't able to come and visit as much as she wanted. As well as the fact that WWE road schedules were always super hectic, so the other girls didn't have much downtime to go and see Brianna in Florida. Hannah was looking forward to having some girl time with her three best friends in the entire world before RAW that night. But, she had no idea what Brianna truly had in mind for her.

The girls continued to laugh and gossip as Brianna unlocked her hotel room door. Hannah could hear Claudio talking to Jon and Joe in the distance, recognizing that Swiss accent from a mile away. But, as she rounded the corner, her laugh trailed off and her smile disappeared. Because there, sitting on the bed, was Colby. Hannah's brows furrowed in confusion and anger, a sense of betrayal washing over her. She looks at Brianna. Then at Claudio. Then at Colby. Then back again.

"What the fuck is going on?" she snaps, "what the fuck is he doing here?"

Brianna sighs. She wraps an arm around Hannah's shoulders, leading her over towards the bed. She sits Hannah down across from Colby, forcing her head forward so that they were meeting eye to eye.

"This is an intervention..." says Brianna, "Claudio knew I was here all along. He told me about the confrontation from last night, so, we decided to stage this intervention. You and Colby need to talk things out like the adults that you are. Whether you like it or not."

Hannah didn't respond. She sat there in silence, her eyes boring into Colby's in a cold, dead stare. Selina snarls, her eyes focusing on Claudio in her own cold, dead stare.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" she snaps at him, "why the fuck did you think that this was a good idea?! You know why things are the way they are between Hannah and Colby. But you still had the fucking nerve to corner Hannah and make her feel like a rat. What kind of fucking friend are you?"

"The kind that believes things should be resolved in a more mature manner," Claudio snaps back, "Hannah can be angry with Brianna and I all she fucking wants. But, she needs to handle this like the fucking adult that she is."

"By tricking her?" interjects Katie, "she's been through enough as it fucking is. And you're only making things worse!"

"Were you two in on this, too?" Selina snaps at Jon and Joe, "and if so, why the fuck didn't you tell us? And I expect a straight fucking answer."

Jon sighed.

"We were in on it..." he says, "Claudio didn't want us saying anything because he didn't want you two to put a stop to it. He knows you and Katie are solely on Hannah's side. And understandably so."

"And you of all fucking people know what Hannah's going through..." hisses Selina, "and you still choose Colby. I thought better of you, Jon..."

"I know, babe..." says Jon sadly, "but, I agree with Claudio. This needs to be handled in a more mature manner. I'm sick and tired of being in the middle of all of this. I love you, Selina. I honestly do. But, I can't take this shit anymore."

"None of us can," interjects Joe, "all of this arguing isn't gonna do any good. Right now? We gotta focus on the task at hand. And, Colby has something that he really needs to say..."

Selina and Katie growl, their eyes now focusing on Colby. They each place a hand on Hannah's shoulders, their own silent way of telling her that they were there for her. Colby sighs, clearing his throat before speaking.

"Hannah, please..." he whispers, choking back tears, "I know what I did to you was one of the worst things that a partner could do. I just...didn't know how to process what happened. And, like the fucking idiot that I am, I looked for comfort in all the wrong places. And that wrong place happened to be with Zahra. I shouldn't have let it get to the level that it did. That bitch took advantage of me during an extremely emotional time. I wasn't thinking. And I have no one else to blame but myself. You have no fucking idea how truly sorry I am for what I did to you. All I want is for you to forgive me. I love you, Hannah Banana. Please...can you ever forgive me? I'm sorry...I love you so much..."

Everyone held their breath as their eyes focused on Hannah. They watched as she slowly crawled over towards Colby, her face completely blank as she moved. She stops right in front of him, putting herself into a kneeling position. Hannah tilts her head, her eyes never leaving Colby's. Soon, her blank stare turns into an angry sneer. With a loud scream, she punches Colby square in the face, snarling as she pounced on top of him and got right in his face.

"IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO FUCKING SAY TO ME?!?!?!?!" she shrieks, landing another punch, "THAT YOU'RE FUCKING SORRY?!?! YOU'RE NOT FUCKING SORRY. I HAVE A FUCKING MISCARRIAGE, AND I CONTEMPLATE FUCKING SUICIDE BECAUSE I FELT LIKE A FUCKING FAILURE. AND INSTEAD OF COMFORTING ME AND BEING THERE FOR ME, YOU GO AND FUCK ANOTHER WOMAN BEHIND MY GODDAMNED BACK!!! AND OUR SON, THE SON THAT I WISH I WAS HOLDING AT THIS PRESENT MOMENT, WAS NO FUCKING MISTAKE. THE ONLY FUCKING MISTAKE WAS ME GETTING INVOLVED WITH YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE! HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT YOU LOVE ME AFTER WHAT YOU DID TO ME, COLBY. YOU NEVER FUCKING LOVED ME. YOU'RE A LIAR. A FILTHY, CHEATING FUCKING LIAR!!! I HATE YOU, COLBY DANIEL LOPEZ. I. FUCKING. HATE YOU!!!"

"OKAY!!!"

Hannah screamed as she felt Claudio yank her off of Colby. She kicks up a storm, trying to free herself from the older man's grip.

"LET GO OF ME, YOU FUCKING BUFFOON!!!" she howls, "THIS WAS YOUR STUPID FUCKING IDEA! LET ME AT HIM! DON'T MAKE ME FUCKING HURT YOU, TOO!!!"

"HANNAH, STOP!" roars Claudio, "THIS ISN'T GOING TO SOLVE ANYTHING! YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN!!!"

"PUT ME DOWN!!!" screams Hannah, "YOU PUT ME DOWN RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!! LET ME AT HIM! I'LL KILL HIM! I'LL FUCKING KILL HIM!!!"

Colby choked against tears as he watched Hannah struggle in Claudio's grip. He gives his friend a silent signal, telling him to let Hannah go. Claudio nods, loosening his grip on Hannah so she could wriggle herself free. Before she could say anything, Colby put his hand up, tears slowly trickling down his cheeks as he spoke.

"I know what I did was wrong..." he croaks, "and I regret every fucking second of it. Because of my actions? I lost the most amazing woman that I have ever known. I never stopped thinking about you, Hannah. Not once did I stop thinking about you. Zahra meant nothing to me. She was nothing but an emotionless fling. You're not the only one who feels like a failure because of the miscarriage. You have no idea how heartbroken I was knowing that there was nothing that I could have done to save our son. You're right. He wasn't a mistake. The only mistake I made was allowing myself to be manipulated by someone when I was in an emotionally and mentally vulnerable state..."

Colby sighs, choking out a sob before speaking again.

"I love you, Hannah Jane Edmondson..." he says, "I will never stop loving you. But, if you want me out of your life that badly? I'll grant you that wish. You and wrestling have meant more to me than anything else in life. I may not always have wrestling. But..."

He sighs, standing up and making his way over towards the door.

"...I hoped that I would always have you. I love you. I'm...I'm sorry..."

Before anyone could say anything, Colby was gone. Hannah watched as he left, her heart sinking as the door closed behind him. It was in that moment that she realized that it was time to stop lying to herself about how she really felt. She knew that she had to go fix things with Colby. Before it was too late...

[mikeyd1986]

MIKEY’S PERSONAL BLOG 154, May 2019

On Monday afternoon, I started my Creative Writing short course held at Balla Balla Community Centre in Cranbourne East. With very little time to process my last minute enrollment into this course, I wasn’t entirely certain whether I would be mentally prepared to  be doing this right now. However, the timing actually worked in my favour as I could comfortably drive to Balla Balla right after the appointment with my support worker. The downside was there was little downtime in between so I decided to bring along my own snacks from home and bought myself a coffee from the vending machine.

This first class was essentially an extension to the Introduction to Creative Writing session I did a few weeks back. Roderic Grigson guided us through many powerpoint slides in order to get us thinking about why we write and what does it mean to become a writer? These responses are both individual and personal for each person. For me it’s about self expression, having something to say and to be heard, understood and accepted.

He also talked about the writing process, the importance of the structural editor, finding the time to write, sources of writing, find your muse and inspiration for writing. Initially I was really daunted by this part but I think Roderic’s approach will make this course much more manageable and less overwhelming. Ultimately, it is a journey about learning and growing as a writer. It takes time to develop just like anything in life.  https://www.ballaballa.com.au/programs-activities/special-interest/

On Tuesday morning, I drove down to Ashwood and Holmesglen to do some nature walking as the weather was a mild and sunny 22 degrees. I started at Ashwood College Wetlands located off High Street Road. I used to go here quite frequently back when I was still at high school. It was once a beautiful spot to visit with wooden footbridges, boardwalks and seating connecting you with the local wildlife and greenlife.

Unfortunately, these wetlands have been poorly maintained in recent years and basically abandoned as evident by the fallen branches, dense grass and overgrown shrubs. The exit gate at the end of the nature trail has also been deadbolted shut, probably to deter the general public from entering. However, it can still be accessed from the front entrance gate which connects up with Ashwood High School (formerly Ashwood College).

My next stop was Electra Reserve. I remember spending my childhood walking through the park, playing on the playground and engaging in ball games. It’s certainly changed a lot since then with a community centre and croquet green added plus landscaped areas filled with large succulents and cacti. The front of the reserve facing High Street Road still remains largely the same with towering oak trees losing their leaves across the footpath which leads to the kids playground. I love seeing the changing colours of autumn and watching the leaves blow around in the wind.

On Thursday afternoon,  I had an appointment with my new occupational therapist named Meghan plus her assistant Sam. It was slightly daunting at first opening up about my anxiety and self confidence issues. There was a lot of hesitation and cracking in my voice but I was determined to make the most of this session. We covered a lot of ground from where Ambika left off in regards to my goals of cleaning, cooking, budgeting, building up confidence and making friendships with less familiar people.

I noted that motivation and lack of energy are both significant barriers when it comes to performing household cleaning tasks especially in the last few weeks. In term of money management, it’s often a struggle for me to detach myself from guilt when spending money on non essential things plus saving is also an uphill battle for me at times. Friendships is also a challenging area that takes a long time for me to work on but the Creative Writing course and Aspergers Victoria events could offer some opportunities there for me.

On Thursday night, I had my overnight sleep study held at Frankston Intergrated Health Centre. When it comes to managing my symptoms of insomnia, I’ve pretty much tried all the natural remedies that I can think of: candles, lavender oil, warm bath or shower, herbal teas, chamomile, relaxation music, guided meditation, a weighted blanket, memory foam pillow. I’ve also tried taking a sedative medication called Quetiapine a few times a week.

Whilst these have all helped a little, none of them have been completely successful in getting me to fall asleep faster or make me feel refreshed waking up. So doing a sleep study in a lab is pretty much the last resort for me. Waiting outside the clinic, there was a middle aged man also here for a sleep study. A morbidly obese lady was descending the staircase leading up to the sleep lab on Level 1. Her name was Michelle and she was the scientist in charge tonight.

She escorted us into separate bedrooms where the study would be taking place. I had to fill out a questionnaire asking for things like what medications I’m taking, what food I’ve eaten, my level of sleepiness, main sleep issues that I’ve been experiencing, referring doctor and emergency contact details. After getting changed into my pajamas, it was time for me to be “wired up”. This was the part that I was the most nervous about.

It was far from comfortable having elastic bands fastened around my waist and chest, a finger sensor attached to my finger then having electrodes and wires stuck to my face, head, shoulders and feet. I also had some weird plastic plugs inserted beneath my nostrils. Michelle’s towering stature was slightly intimidating as she was applying all these things to my body and yet I somehow remained calm through the whole process. She attempted to make small talk but I was far too distracted to give really exciting answers.

According to the notes, these devices on my body will be measuring my brain waves, breathing, heart beat, oxygen level, muscle tension, leg movements and sound levels in the room (snoring). It took a long while for me to finally drift off to sleep considering how awkward it was having all these wires attached to my body. I literally couldn’t move very far as the wires were all connected to a monitor above the bed. Being in a different bed can also take some time for me to adjust to, especially in a sleep laboratory.

Of course my worrying thoughts quickly crept in (What if I don’t end up sleeping and I fail the sleep study? Why can’t I fall asleep?) which is always frustrating and annoying. Plus a lot of tossing and turning, readjusting my pillows, dealing with a toothache and sore jaws, hearing noises from outside my window and down the sleep lab hallway. Eventually I did fall asleep sometime after 11pm and had broken sleep as normal. I probably got around 5 or 6 hours sleep so that should hopefully be enough to get some decent results from.  http://psrphysicians.com/index.php/sleep-2/sleep-tests/

“Got a lot on the line. Put a lot on the moonlight. The invite of a lava light. Mi corazon, pheromone. I won't let you go. Oh no, stay aglow with me. It's summertime, night's falling. Into my home, think I might fall in love. And I won't deny, feeling on a high.” Morcheeba - It’s Summertime (2018)

[bhaktapur]

8.1 - Climb for Hope

     Anna and I flew into Portland on a Wednesday evening.  We were scooped up at the airport by a guide with Rare Earth Adventures, the company that graciously donates their time and energy to Climb for Hope.  After a quick introduction, she loaded our hefty bags into the back of the van and mused, “I thought you guys were going to be older!”  Once we were deposited at the group’s homeshare, her comment started to make a bit more sense.  We were greeted by the three other members of the expedition, and all had a decade (or two!) on Anna and me.  Darkness was already descending on our suburban Washington backyard-for-rent, and we gathered around the furnished treehouse (a major selling-point on the Air BnB profile) to exchange pleasantries.  The air was thick with a tension not inappropriate between strangers about to entrust their lives to one another, and the weight of what we were about to attempt settled in a bit as we shared stories of past adventures.  Andy, the trip organizer, had attempted Rainier thrice and summited only once before.  The two other climbers had both tried, and failed, to reach the summit, once stuck in a tent for over 30 hours awaiting a lull in the weather that would never come.  On that particular trip, winds had blown a ladder into a crevasse, effectively cutting off the summit from an entire side of the mountain.  Facing this literally chilling possibility, Anna and I opted against the treehouse, and we settled into one of the upstairs rooms for the night.

     After a quick gear check in the morning, we loaded into a van and set out for the mountain.  The car ride offered us the first opportunity to really get to know the team with whom we would eat, sleep, suffer, and – hopefully – summit.  The trip was organized by Andy Buerger, a climber and entrepreneur out of Baltimore, whom I met - albeit briefly - through connections in the natural food industry.  He founded Climb for Hope after losing his sister Jodi to breast cancer, and expanded its mission after his wife and climbing partner was diagnosed with MS.  Andy struck me as a man of great emotional depth, though his busy mind seemed to hold this at bay much of the time.  He works incredibly hard to keep his symbiotic ventures chugging along, and was even caught sneaking work emails during our downtime at camp. ��Possessing a wicked deadpan, Andy settled into the role of sarcastic diva for much of the trip, slinging outrageous insults and complaints at guides and climbers alike in a way that clearly said, “I’m genuinely happy we’re all here.”  Indeed, that seemed to be a general mantra for Andy, clouded only slightly by his survivor’s guilt, and his aura of gratitude helped remind us all that our suffering – both on the mountain and off it – was merely a window into the daily experiences of those who fight grave illness back home.

      Andy’s long standing climbing-partner-in-crime was Danny, a DC policy-worker able to switch breathlessly between discussions of eastern philosophy and the particular qualities of his selfie stick.  Self-deprecating, yet charming, sophomoric, yet wise, Danny was effortlessly easy to get along with no matter his mood or fancy.  He and Andy had the report of two long-since-graduated fraternity brothers, and were at the root of an ever-expanding ring of scatological pranks that would chase us up and down the mountain.  He seemed to be the unofficial marketing guru for Climb for Hope, and he worked doggedly to document the trip.  With equal gusto, he pursued both cheesy, Instagram-ready bits of content and one of the great challenges of the adventuring life: capturing the scale and beauty of what we do in the mountains in a way that inspires a love and respect for the natural world.

     The third, and oldest member of the expedition was Tiger, a boyishly energetic anglophile who imports small-batch craft cider from the UK.  Despite his gentlemanly inclination, he happily adopted the role of “Creepy Uncle Tiger” simply because it was so damn funny.  His gasping giggle was so infectious, his stories often left us all in hysterics, even if no one really understood what he had said.  Tiger - himself a cancer survivor - was fiercely dedicated to the cause, and carried photographs of friends and family fighting the disease back home.  He also carried a well-worn letter from his daughter, which he would discover for the first time described him as the strongest person she knew, not strangest, as he had happily assumed for over five years.  As we would discover, Tiger was both strong and strange, as well as perceptive, generous, and absolutely hilarious.

A rare moment on flat ground

     For our final night before undertaking the climb, we stayed just outside the gates of the National Park, in a wooden bunkhouse built by loggers in 1912.  Out of respect for the altitude and challenges that lay ahead, we resisted the temptation to settle our nerves with a beer, but despite dinner conversation revolving around the possibility of going ten days without a bowel movement, I devoured a mediocre burger without taking a breath.  Anna, on the other hand was slipping deeper into the world’s worst-timed cold, and scarcely ate.  We were both clearly worried over her worsening condition, but didn’t dare discuss the implications, so she loaded up on Nyquil and we settled down in our 4-person room for one final night on a proper bed.

     Rainier National Park is - deservedly - a huge tourist destination.  Temperate rainforest covers much of its area, dense with intricate ferns, large-leafed clover, and enormous nurse logs impossible to find in the heavily-logged areas that surround the park.  On our drive in, the forest would occasionally drop out from under us, and we would find ourselves on a winding bridge spanning a vast scar in the vegetation, canyons full of grey volcanic talus where the receding glacier had pulverized the landscape ages ago.  In most cases, water rushed through the middle of these canyons, carrying glacial melt down to Seattle, the Sound, and the Sea.  Rainier remained hidden for much of the approach, but once the titanic thing slipped into our view from behind the surrounding peaks, it was there to stay.  As we pulled into Paradise, the trailhead where we would begin our climb, Rainier drew our gaze with an almost supernatural force.  The mountain was tall - no doubt about that - but it was also wide, filling your entire field of view and almost seeming to wrap its imposing walls around you in embrace.  A few mountaineering teams were already beginning their push, but mostly Paradise was filled with day-use visitors, picnicking, snapping photos, and generally basking in the magnificence of Rainier’s singular presence here.  With this din casting an odd irreverence over the moment, the team exchanged some quiet words of encouragement, inspiration, and caution, then began up the trail.

All smiles at the trailhead

     Our objective for Day 1 was Camp Muir, and to my great surprise, a trail marker not 100 yards into our hike indicated that it was only 4.1 miles from the Paradise parking lot.  It helped to explain the crowded trail, full of day-hikers in shorts, sometimes carrying nothing more than a water bottle.  What a sight we must have been to these untroubled families, lumbering sternly upward, already sweating under the weight of packs so full of food, fuel, clothing, and shelter that axes, pickets, crampons, shovels and avalanche probes had to be strapped to the outside.  By nine, I began to worry that Anna and I had packed for the entirely wrong season.  I was wearing my lightest layers, a long-sleeved cotton tee and fully-taped Gore-Tex pants, and sweating mightily.  Still, the weather was undeniably incredible.  The slightest breeze rustled through the intertwined noble pines, and sloped meadows of wildflowers glowed under the morning sun.  Huge golden marmots loafed on rocks by the side of the trail and lumbered through the fields chomping on the purple blooms of lupine.  In their careless company, even the distant peak of Rainier seemed welcoming.

     Despite the short distance, the hike stretched on for hours.  Paved road gave way to packed dirt, then to rocky switchbacks, and then to slush.  At the foot of the Muir Snowfield, Anna and I were already exhausted.  The snow was soft enough that crampons were unnecessary, but this made for painfully slow progress under the weight of our equipment.  While many day-hikers had turned around at the snowline, some pressed on towards Camp Muir, the highest point on the mountain accessible without a wilderness permit.  Their light footfalls and happy chatter was brutally demoralizing as we trudged up the glacier, where the monotonous landscape deceived depth perception and seemed to stretch on endlessly.  Even worse were the whoops of delight from climbers on their descent, many of whom glissaded down well-traveled slides on tarps, stuff sacks, or even sleeping bags.  Anna in particular eyed the descending parties with envy, as the morning dose of pseudoephedrine was now long gone.  At about 9000 feet a few small structures came into view, and we pushed for camp with a renewed vigor.  Anna and I fell in step behind Tiger, who demonstrated a technique for “micro-resting,” pausing momentarily every third step to lock the knee in your back leg.  I didn’t find much rest this way, but the surprisingly difficult coordination of stepping, counting, and locking gave me something to think about besides the camp that seemed to draw no closer.

     At last, we crested the top of the ridge and arrived at Camp Muir.  10,080 feet above sea level, the camp sat at the south end of a large, rippling snowfield, speckled with rockfall and greyed with the volcanic dust that seemed to be everywhere at this height.  To the south, from whence we’d hiked, the forest stretched endlessly out towards the horizon.  Across the valley three large mountains stood in a neat line: Mount Adams, wide and glaciated, like Rainier’s slightly stunted cousin; Mount Hood, symmetrical and improbably steep, like the mountains a child would draw on an imaginary map; and Mount St. Helens, pointing her jagged crater directly at us, a warning to all who tempt fate in the shadow of Rainier (due to its proximity to Seattle and relatively high levels of geothermic activity, Rainier is considered one of the most dangerous volcanoes in the world).  We set about making camp for the night, flattening the snow with our avalanche shovels to make room for our tents, while the guides got to work boiling water.

Our intrepid guides, Brandon, Julie, and Cody

     Boiling water (or more specifically, boiling snow to make potable water) was a seemingly endless chore on the mountain.  Algae grows everywhere (generally invisibly, though pink “watermelon snow” is a common occurrence), and ingesting it is a sure path to digestive unhappiness.  Incredibly, the guides insisted on doing this work themselves, in particular Julie, who continued to surprise us with her ability for selflessness and empathy.  Freshly returned from non-profit work in Peru, Julie was an adventurous soul with a calm demeanor and easy smile.  As the only other female on the team, she was hugely supportive of Anna throughout, and indeed to us all.  She seemed to have a sixth sense for sniffing out a client in need, and was always ready with first aid, toilet paper, a snack, or simply a well-timed story when the crunching of snow underfoot was about to become unbearable.  Like the rest of the guides, she had an arsenal of horror stories skillfully spun to paint our climb as a tropical vacation and make us all feel like Navy SEALS in comparison.

     The lead guide on the expedition was an unassuming badass named Brandon.  As we would learn later, Brandon had left a lucrative career to care for his ailing wife, but he gave no indication of dissatisfaction.  In fact, he clearly thrived in the mountains, hiking tirelessly on hardly any food, bearing what was clearly the heaviest pack in the expedition.  He was quiet and patient, a stark contrast to the grim-faced corporate guides literally pulling their charges up the mountain, and described himself as risk-adverse.  Incongruous as this may seem for a professional alpine mountain guide, there was clearly truth in it.  In silent moments you could almost hear Brandon’s brain humming, chewing through the calculus of our chances as our collective will pushed against the mountain.  He described hours spent pouring over accident reports and YouTube videos of disasters and rescues alike.  Taking on the responsibility of training us in avalanche response and alpine safety, he imparted both a sobering seriousness and self-assured calm on the group.  Under his tutelage, we learned to arrest a fall on the icy glacier with our trusty ice axe, to scan the debris field of an avalanche with a beacon in a sprinting zig-zag, and to dig in to the buried victim of an avalanche rather than down.  When I stabbed myself in the leg with the spike of my ice axe (putting a hole in brand new pants, despite my $100 investment in gaiters that aimed to avoid this very thing), Brandon seemed to pull Tenacious Tape out of thin air.  For like Julie, Brandon was keenly aware of our needs and jumped at any opportunity to make our lives easier.

     The third guide was Cody, the youngest of the group, but the most experienced on Rainier (Brandon had summited for his first time less than a month prior to our trip).  He was a vocal Buddhist, and lent a peaceful spirituality to our alpine rituals, burning Nag Champa during our rehydrated dinners and leading simple – but earnest – pujas before big pushes on the trail.  Despite the wisdom that surpassed his years, Cody radiated a contagious energy, a byproduct of his love for the natural world and the grateful disbelief that he got to scale mountains for a living.  He was the social glue of the group, eager to chat with anyone about philosophy, biology, music, climbing, medicine, meditation, or any other subject you were keen to submit.  Somehow, even in the most arduous moments of our endless climb, his enduring enthusiasm never wore out its welcome.  Like his colleagues, he was an inspirational example of patience, willpower, and kindness as our steps grew slower and gripes louder.

Danny captures Tiger, Tim, Andy, Cody, and Julie in his signature selfie

     In the flurry of emails that circulated prior to our trip, the second day of the expedition was described as a “rest day,” intended to let our feeble, squishy, organs acclimatize themselves to the harsh realities of life above 10,000 feet.  In reality, the word “rest” was here clearly misapplied.  The day started innocently enough, the guides boiling more water while reminiscing about other times spent boiling water.  Once, Brandon said, they had hosted a few "Georgia Boys” on the mountain.  “Big guys, but strong.”  The water boiling responsibilities has apparently pushed the guides to the brink of madness, with empty Nalgenes piling up faster than they could be replenished.  For our part, we moved through our water at a slightly more reasonable pace, though Andy was playfully belligerent over his need for fresh coffee.  The man was unapologetically addicted to caffeine and, more specifically, bulletproof coffee.  He adores Ancient Organics Ghee for this purpose - insisting that I bring a healthy supply for the expedition - and though we ultimately decided against dragging glass jars of the stuff up the mountain with us, he coated the inside of his mug with enough ghee that he was able to supply himself for several days on residue alone.  After coffee, Danny led the group - and a few stragglers from around camp - in some morning yoga on Camp Muir’s small helipad.  Though it was obviously the staging point for many an emergency rescue, the helipad was more commonly used for airlifting 55-gallon drums of poop off of the mountain.  It was one of a few structures at Camp Muir, all built in the style of the century-old guide hut and bunkhouse, scavenged rockfall framed with logs and cemented together with mortar.  After the yoga, however, all semblance of rest went the way of airlifted poop, and we stowed our tents and packed our bags to relocate to high camp.  Anna seemed to be getting sicker, and had skipped yoga, but she dutifully strapped on her pack and affixed her crampons for our first steps into technical terrain.

     From this point onward, we moved as two four-person rope teams.  Trekking poles stowed and ice axe in hand, we snaked our way up the glacier with about  five meters of static line between each climber’s harness.  In steep, rocky sections, a prussic (slide and grip knot) would be used to shorten this distance and lessen the danger of rockfall.  No more than 100 yards from camp, we crossed our first crevasse.  Though a casual step easily spanned the 10-inch gap, we still called out “crossing!” and “across,” partially to practice for more dicey crossings ahead, and partially out of respect for the depth of the thing, which - though narrow - stretched hundreds of feet into the ice below us.  We crossed several additional crevasses as we traversed the cratered snowfield, then climbed an iceless section of rock.  Here we stopped to marvel at a gushing waterfall of glacier-melt, the color of chocolate milk, which was dislodging toaster-sized rocks with alarming frequency.  This was neither the first, nor the last, time that I was struck with the fleeting nature of Rainier’s alpine environment.  In rock climbing, I am accustomed to laying hands on stone that has sat unmoved for millennia, if not eons.  On historic routes, one can clip pitons driven into the rock decades ago by the revered forefathers of our sport.  On a glacier, however, everything is transient, temporary, and temperamental.  The trail that we climbed was vastly different than the one Brandon had taken just weeks prior, and in fact would again be different on our descent less than a day later.  At every opportunity, Brandon prodded other guides, climbers, or rangers for information.  Was there a ladder up?  Had the cornice collapsed?  Where did the high trails converge?  He listened attentively to every response, redrawing the map and the itinerary in his mind, plotting our point on his invisible graph of safety and speed.

Anna on the glacier at sunrise

     Though the hiking was slow, the afternoon required only 1100 feet of climbing from us, and we reached Ingraham Flats with the sun still high in the sky.  This time around, tents were dug in deeper and stakes buried under piles of snow, as the high camp was more exposed to the wind and we would be leaving our tents here during the push for the summit.  Ingraham Flats had no permanent structures, and from here on out we were entrusted with “blue bags” for ferrying waste off the mountain, so we ate an early dinner contemplating digestive cause and effect with a weight rarely afforded to the subject.  While the guides busied themselves boiling snow, we settled into our tents around six o’clock to try to scrounge a few more hours of rest.  At first, it seemed like sleep would be impossible.  Basecamp for a joint expedition between National Geographic and NASA was set up nearby, testing equipment that might one day explore underground Martian lakes.  They were receiving a fresh batch of scientists, many of whom seemed to be reuniting after much time apart.  Nervously contemplating our chances on the mountain, the weather, Anna’s condition, I listened silently to their backslapping, to the tour of their camp, and with regular interval, the cracking explosions of not-so-distant rockfall.

     Eventually, sleep did come, but it was not to last long.  Cody roused us at 10 PM to begin final preparations for the summit push.  Our “rest day” was officially over.  Anna downed some more pseudoephedrine and we rushed to organize our gear and rope up, Brandon hurrying us along to stay ahead of a trail of climbers pushing up from Camp Muir.  Unnatural as our early (or late?) start seemed, most followed suit.  It is extremely dangerous to travel on the glacier during the afternoon, as warming temperatures dislodge rocks previously locked in the snow and shelves of ice pull apart to form new crevasses, so our timing was intended to help us reach the summit and descend before this point.  Of course, in the fog of our fatigue, we didn’t consider any of this specifically, we merely slipped into autopilot and trudged along behind the gentle tug of our rope team.

     The air was still, but cold, and for the first time we set out looking properly dressed for an alpine expedition.  We had stowed layers of down clothing at the top of our packs and any time that the teams halted, these were hastily extracted to prevent our core temperatures from dropping too low.  Once on the trail again, however, these layers had to be removed, as the climbing had become much more strenuous and one could easily overheat.  Not far outside of camp, we started up a stretch of exposed rock, a steep, chossy formation known as the Disappointment Cleaver.  True to its name, this section proved one of the most difficult of the entire expedition.  The rock was incredibly loose, and every step sank and slid backwards under our weight.  Crampons made crossing this terrain even more difficult, directing the force of your steps in unpredictable ways and threatening to steal a lazy footfall from underneath you.  Everywhere, softball to microwave-sized boulders sat beside - or directly on - the trail, so precariously balanced that they almost seemed like intentionally-laid traps.  Physically demanding as the trail was, the mental challenge was by far the greatest crux of the Cleaver.  The trail ascended a steep set of switchbacks, so knocking a rock loose could maim or kill a climber below.  Each step had to be made carefully, with your full weight held in reserve.  In the near total darkness, we scanned the path in front of you for these hazards, tensely awaiting the unmistakable sound of stone sliding against stone or, even worse, the shouts of “ROCK!” from parties above.

Crevasse Crossing in two rope teams

     At the top of the cleaver, the route typically takes a direct westerly route up to the cone of Rainier’s summit.  However, rising temperatures over the last few weeks had created a hazard along this route that was impossible to ignore.  The “Tsunami” was a teetering curl of glacial ice overhanging a couloir, a 100-yard gauntlet guarding the only path on this side of the mountain, threatening to drop at any moment.  When Brandon had summitted Rainier a few weeks prior, he had described this path as “puckering” and attempting it now, after even more of its support had melted away, was beyond reason.  Instead, guide companies had trod a new path, descending slightly and wrapping north along the mountain, eventually meeting up with another established trail to the summit.  While a welcome reprieve for our already-burning legs, this detour ultimately added both distance and elevation to our summit push, and the thought compounded a creeping sense of dread that was welling up in me.

     Still climbing in the dead of night, we pushed upwards and upwards, settling into a sort of trance fed by our bizarre environment.  The icy switchbacks were cut through endless fields of penitentes, jagged pillars of ice resembling man-sized colonies of coral.  Created by the sublimation of glacial ice directly into water vapor, these otherworldly structures take their name from their tendency to form facing the sun, as if bowed in penance.  They left little opportunities to diverge from our chosen path, and we fell into rhythm with the switchbacks, wordlessly stepping over the rope and shifting our axe to the uphill hand with each reversal of the trail until a tug from a slowing teammate on the rope behind startled us out of our stupor.  When the going became steeper, or the walls of ice grew taller around us, we would change our hold on the axe, no longer gripping it by the head, as a cane, but by the shaft, swinging it pick-first into the snow.  In either case, it was rarely seated firmly in the ice, and even missing your plant altogether would not necessarily precipitate a fall.  Rather, the axe sort of floated along by your side, tapping the ice as it sloped upwards, a gentle reassurance that the world was still there beneath your feet.  The prevailing sound on the trail was the crunch of ice under the spikes of our crampons, but even that faded away as the hours pressed on.  In its absence, I began to notice the peculiar noise that the shaft of the ice axe made in the moment between dropping the spike into the snow and removing it, as you stepped past its temporary fulcrum, tilting it like the hand of a clock jumping from eleven to one.  The sound was an unlikely sort of slow squeak, not unlike a playground swing swaying in the breeze.

     I can’t say how long I spent pondering this sound, spinning the aforewritten paragraph in my mind so many weeks before I’d commit it to type; time seemed to stretch and skip in the darkness.  Occasionally, we’d pause to catch our breath and marvel at the view.  While the moon remained hidden behind Rainier’s still-imposing shadow, the stars shone brilliantly in the thin air.  On the horizon, you could see the shimmer of the Seattle metro, surprisingly close given our feeling of remoteness.  Impossibly far up the mountain, an eerie train of glowing headlamps bobbed slowly upwards.  As we rounded the Eastern face of the mountain, the sky took on a faint red glow, and soon after we lifted weary hands to toggle off our headlamps.  While my lamp would serve no further use for the day, I dared not expend the energy to actually divorce the thing from my helmet.  By this point, I was brutally exhausted, deprived of sleep, calories, and oxygen.  Anna voiced no protest, but it was clear that she was digging deep for the will to continue.  Already, Brandon had taken us aside for a check-up, explaining that the rope team’s current pace would not put us on the summit in time.  Though he didn’t say it, the subtext was clear: “Are you guys gonna make it? Do we need to turn around?”  We had steeled our resolve and given Brandon our understanding nods, but now I was beginning to waver.

     As the sun rose on Sunday morning, we gained the Emmons Glacier and began our final push for the summit.  The climbing became steeper, and the intersecting trails put parties close on our trail.  At 13,500 feet, I started to receive some troubled glances from our guides.  The altitude was wearing mightily on me, and my vision became spotted with little glowing auras.  Twice, I swallowed my pride and gasped for a quick break, pulling the team off the trail and secretly praising the climbers that nipped at our heels as we waited for them to pass us.  Still, we were too close for me to possibly consider surrender.  If I had made it this far, a few more steps would certainly not kill me.  We pressed up a particularly steep section, clipping our rope into pickets hammered into the snow to protect our team, then gained a large flat snowfield just below the summit.  It was now six in the morning, and the sun shone brightly on us.  The final 100 yards were free of snow, and I worked my way up the dusty trail a dozen steps at a time, falling to my knees and gasping for air more times in this short stretch than I can now believe.  Anna mustered only the most meager encouragement, patting my foot as she passed me by, now free of the rope that had kept her in line behind me.  I stumbled to my feet behind her, and with a few final steps at last stood atop Mount Rainier.

     As we reflected on the climb later that day, Andy would describe the summit as “kinda weird”.  The first time he had reached the top, he had been overcome with emotion, brought to tears by the weight of the accomplishment and the tragedy that had set his climb in motion.  While we were certainly ecstatic to have reached our goal, I think what Andy meant by this was twofold.  First of all, we were quickly chased off of the top by the weather (now that we had stopped moving, the dusty winds quickly chilled us to the bone and would occasionally threaten to knock you off your feet).  More importantly, I think Andy was vocalizing something that we all felt, that the summit was but one tiny part of an adventure that, even at its most bleak and desperate, was at every moment a beautiful and revealing experience.  As I look back on the expedition now, I rarely contemplate our summit.  Rather, I think back to that breathtaking moment when the blood red sun first peaked above the horizon.  I remember the careful measurement of our steps meant to keep the rope between us taught and the faint, but proud smile on Anna’s face when I would turn to check on her.  I remember Brandon’s lessons, Julie’s stories, and Cody’s words of inspiration.  I remember Andy smearing zinc so thick on his lips that he looked like a powdered donut fiend.  I remember Danny duct-taping his phone to his selfie stick to get the perfect shot.  I remember Tiger stowing rocks in people’s packs, then laughing too hard to get away with it.  Mostly, I remember Rainier, and the shared moments of monotony and hilarity, pain and pride, despair and triumph, and that brief, uncompromising look at who we are and what we are capable of.

     My time on Rainier has left me with a profound gratitude that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.  I am forever indebted to Andy, for his vision and inspiration, to our guides, for their wisdom and compassion, and to our partners, for their camaraderie and motivation.  I am grateful for the mountain, which allowed us to pass unscathed, for my body, strong and healthy enough to undertake this challenge when others cannot, and for my incredible girlfriend and climbing partner Anna, who drives me to dream, to persevere, and to live a life for the benefit of others.  And of course, I am grateful for our donors, who gave us the opportunity to test ourselves in and incredible new way, and the chance to prove that climbing is not only a selfish pursuit, but a force for good in this world.  From the bottom of our hearts, thank you.

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