#i never have the bandwidth to do breakfast at breakfast time

[thepatronsaintoffilth]

what's your comfort meal?

I'm eating mine now. Mine is "breakfast for dinner".

Like a full american style breakfast: eggs scrambled light (with Cholula on top cuz i'm a texas bama), bacon (I do turkey bacon mostly), toast with jelly (ezekiel bread with mixed berry preserves), and some kind of fruit (a whole orange, or a bowl of strawberries or grapes).

[thelampisaflashlight]

Cryptid Biology Season 2: Mabon

[Previous entry in the series: Here. After setting up for a special event, Bea feels like ditching the party like she did during Litha, but a worried Mountain convinces her to try and enjoy the results of her hard work, and Rain helps her unwind afterwards. Somehow this became angst. Somehow.] Below the cut.

The first day of Autumn brings a strange, new life to the abbey.

The siblings rise early, excited, and set out onto the grounds to relax and play to their hearts content; It's Mabon, and one of the siblings' preferred holidays, thus no one has to work today, nor tomorrow, or until noon on the third day of the season.

Bea, too, has been given the day off, but finds herself restless.

Invited to the main building for breakfast, along with the other members of staff, who usually take their lunch in their offices, rooms, or, in Bea's case, outside, she sits among the siblings, listening to them chatter ceaselessly about this or that around bites of food, only stopping when Copia -or "Frater Imperator" as he's now called, though she likely will never call him that just out of general defiance- moves to the front of the hall to speak.

Admittedly, Bea only half listens to what he has to say, and not entirely because she finds him to be a bore; While she'd normally avoid coming to this sort of thing, she felt as if she deserved a nice warm breakfast made by somebody else after she'd played hell trying to get everything set up for today.

It had been her, along with a choice few siblings of sin and staff members that had thrown everything together both inside and outside of the abbey for the celebration.

She'd spent the better part of the last week laying out a map of where everything should go, shifting things around so they needn't go so far as to alter the landscape, and even laid out woodchips to make a proper trail through the event so that neither the siblings nor their guests would have to walk through wet grass to view the various activity and craft stalls.

It had been a lot of work, albeit no more than she was used to in terms of knowledge or skill, but it was tedious, tiring work, and Bea had reached her limit by the time they stuck that last tent pole into the ground.

Now, her body ached and she wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed, but, at the same time, she felt brimming with energy.

One might mistakenly call it excitement, but Bea does not cope well with such emotions, and instead would call it anxiety.

As Copia speaks, she can't seem to make herself calm down, even with one voice filling the air, his over the top antics and joyful tone do nothing to alleviate the immense stress she feels knowing that if something about the event's set up or aesthetics get criticized, she simply doesn't have the mental bandwidth to stop herself from crying.

She pokes at her yogurt, the only thing she seems to be able to stomach, the smell of everything else combined together leaving her a touch nauseous despite, under normal circumstances, sounding delicious.

Bea wouldn't say it's rare for her to get anxious about her work being judged; And when it is judged, usually it's positive, but lately she can't shake even the smallest slight... and she isn't entirely sure why.

Everything -this event, being around so many people, life- feels like too much.

When she feels her stomach turn again, Bea leans forward on the table, clearing her spot and sets her head down atop her folded arms, taking a deep breath before closing her eyes.

Before long, a large, warm hand settles on her back, and she startles, eyes cracking open slightly as she takes in the sight of Mountain settling down beside her, his fuzzy, unglamoured face scrunched with worry.

"Are you alright?" he whispers, though it's hard to hear him as the siblings resume their conversations.

Bea inhales slowly.

"Just... thinking a lot." she says, and the ghoul nods, "I think I'm going to sit this one out, big guy..."

Mountain frowns.

"Don't give me the puppy dog eyes, Mount, it don't work on me..." she mumbles, but something about the look he gives her does make her reconsider, "...One walk around the grounds, and then I'm going home."

.

.

.

Bea looks at the setting sun and wonders how on earth Mountain managed to drag her through the entire day's events without her noticing; She wants to be mad, but it's hard to be when she actually had a good time, and now all that was left was the closing bonfire.

Technically, there was more they could do during and afterwards, but none of that appealed to her, and Mountain knew her social battery and tolerance for his company was beginning to wear thin.

It wasn't that she hated Mountain or disliked him in any real way, but they were often "too much" for each other.

Although on a surface level, that might warrant a deeper dive into their relationship as a whole, put plainly; If they were to allowed to spend more time together, something would wind up broken or on fire, and not because they were bickering, no, but because, in the way of true friendship, they'd simply choose to cause chaos.

A prime example of this was when, the night after the party for Litha, Bea had decided she didn't, in fact, want to carry a cumbersome, carved statue of a dick back to the abbey -she wasn't sure where it had come from, nor did she want to ask- and the two had put their heads together to figure out the worst place to put it.

A bit of back and forth later, and it'd ended up in the lake for the water ghouls to find come morning.

Though in that case, the dick must've found its way into some deeper crevice -and, oh, the jokes about penetration and sex they had made after that- and disappeared, because there'd been no real pay off to that one... Last year's Samhain celebration however...

Bea shakes her head as she watches Mountain wander away towards the party, walking over to Dewdrop -she's pretty sure it's him anyway, it's hard to tell since she's only met him a handful of times- who is stood by the fire with the rest of his pack, save for one; Rain is decidedly missing from the group, but it doesn't take long for her to find him... or more accurately for him to find her.

Long arms snake around her midsection, cold and clammy, sending a shiver down her spine as he lowers his chin down to rest upon her head.

"Mountain actually managed to drag you out of your cave, hm~?" he teases, and Bea, surprisingly even to herself, doesn't bite back or shake him off.

"He has a way of doing that, yeah..." she sighs, feeling the water ghoul sniff her hair, "Whatcha doin', huh?"

"Nothing." he says, "Stealing the warmth from your body."

Bea snorts.

They stand like this for a time, Rain wrapped around her like a cold, yet comforting blanket, until -like the company of a friend- it becomes too much.

"Go on then." she pats his hands, prompting him to release her, "Back to your friends, I'm sure they miss you."

Rain pauses to consider this before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, her short hair tickling his nose, and heading off in the same direction Mountain had gone.

Alone once more, Bea looks between the warm light of the fire, and the distant, dim glow of her porchlight across the lake, before setting off into the dark of the night.

She's too tired to fully process that she hadn't left any of the lights on before she left that morning, and though a whisper in the back of her mind hints that, perhaps, something is off, she doesn't have the spoons left to care.

Arriving at the cottage, Bea kicks off her shoes, hearing them thump against the wooden siding, and pops open the screen door to reveal the dark interior of her home.

Flicking on the lights, she takes in the space; Nothing's out of place or missing, but small things... small things are different, and she can feel it the moment she crosses the threshold.

Someone's been in here.

The thought has her blinking, more awake than she'd been all day, but there's no sudden drop in her stomach or a cold wash of fear over her features at this realization.

No, it's a lighter feeling.

She looks at the sink, the dishes stacked up to the faucet for the last week now sat in the drying rack, the hamper of laundry she'd left on the kitchen table because she'd been too busy to fold it was missing, but easily found upon opening her dresser...

Somebody's... tidied her house?

Bea places her hands on her hips.

Occasionally, Mountain would clean up after her, despite her protests, because he didn't like the place becoming cluttered even if he didn't live there anymore, but he'd been with her all day...

"Surprise?" a voice from the doorway says, sounding a little unsure.

Bea turns, catching sight of Rain, who nervously wrings his hands together.

"You did this?"

He nods.

"Thank you, but why?" she asks, and the ghoul steps inside, head bowed slightly as he looks at her.

"You've been working really hard lately, so I thought I might... take away some of the weight?" he offers, but when Bea raises an eyebrow at him, he confesses easily enough, "I thought we might celebrate the holiday together, like... like last time."

The gardener frowns.

"I didn't do it just because I wanted to-" he begins to clarify, but is cut off by Bea, who pulls him down into a kiss, "O-Ohhh..."

"Don't care." she mumbles, "I appreciate the gesture, but, really, you didn't have to... could've just asked, you know I wouldn't turn you down."

"But you could." he says, "I don't know... maybe I want you to."

"To turn you down?" she questions, confused.

"It's... a strange feeling, Miss. Milne." he says, placing a hand on his chest, and suddenly Bea recognizes his game, "A man of the cloth, tempted by a woman such as yourself..."

Bea smirks.

"I see... You want to play that game?" she laughs, running her hands up his sides, "Yes or no?"

Rain shudders as her fingers brush against his gills through the fabric of his shirt, "...Yes..."

.

.

.

There is something to be said about these early fall days, how the mornings are cool as ice, but the afternoon sun reminds you that summer has only just left.

The nights are hot and humid, and in the close confines of the gardener's cottage, the air has never felt warmer.

Rain contemplates this change, buried deeply inside of Bea's body, the heavy rise and fall of her chest entrancing him as he compares the tan lines closer to her neck and shoulders to the paleness of her breasts.

He draws them together, thumb reverently over the softness of them, squeezing.

"Can I..." Bea sighs as Rain rolls his hips, "...ask you something?"

Rain hums, hands abandoning her chest as he lowers himself down on top of her, "Go right ahead."

"...Would you be sad if I left?"

And just like that, Rain feels the temperature drop.

"Are you... planning on leaving?" he asks in a faint whisper.

Bea runs a hand through his hair, playing with one of the many dark curls.

"Lately, I haven't been feeling like myself..." she says, "...I feel... different, and I can't quite place how or why."

Rain pulls back a little to look at her face from above, "...When you say leave-"

"The last time I spoke to Sister Imperator, before she... before she passed, I renewed my contract."

"Then you're staying?" Rain almost lets himself feel relieved, but quickly circles back, "You said..."

"...She said there's a chance, that when this is over, I won't..." she tries, but the ghoul is already lifting her up, the movement drawing them closer together, and for a moment they both groan before coming back to their senses, "...So I need to know... Will you be sad?"

Rain gives a stilted laugh, "You... you make it sound like you're dying, Beatrix, and I don't like it... So... So just tell me what's going on. Don't beat around the bush."

Bea looks up at him, honey brown eyes shining in the dull light of her bedroom, "...I was given a chance to become part of Copia's staff, permanently."

"That's... Bea, that's wonderful news, but why-"

"I have until the end of October to decide." she says, "After that, it'll be too late to change my mind."

Rain blinks.

"I still don't..." he swallows hard.

"She said it's possible I'll forget things, or I might... might not be the same person afterwards."

"...You didn't..." he frets, grabbing her arms, "You can't...!"

"Why not?" she asks, and, fuck, does Rain want to scream.

"Aren't you happy like this?" he questions, "In your cottage, comfortable and secure... Why would you risk losing that?"

"...Rain..." Bea trembles, tears starting to bead on her lashes, "...It's more of a risk not doing it. If I don't... I have to leave. So either way... either way, I could lose everything."

"You could stay!" Rain states firmly, "Papa -Frater- Fuck! He'd be reasonable and understand that you shouldn't have to do something like that just to stay here! It's bullshi-"

"...I already talked to him." she says, "He gave me other options, and I chose this... Sister offered it to me, and I asked Copia after she was gone if the offer still stood."

"...The end of October..." Rain feels his world spin just a little, "That's how long we have then..."

Bea rests her cheek on his shoulder.

"If I do forget or become someone else, you'll have to remind me."

"You'll remember." Rain says, "I won't let you forget."

"That might not be something either of us can con-OH!"

.

.

.

"So do I need to ask or are you just going to come out and say it?" Mountain asks when he sees Rain shuffling into the ghouls' den in the early hours of the morning the following day.

The ghoul offers him a tired stare before plopping himself down in the worn armchair Dew usually steals for himself first thing, "...Y'ever think, maybe, Bea's... not happy?"

Mountain pauses, looking towards his packmate, then sits down on the couch, the old springs groaning under his weight.

"I don't think..." he shakes his head, "People like Milne... no..."

"It's complicated." he settles on finally, "Milne came here to escape whatever life she left behind in the states, and now things are changing here, and she's getting itchy. Anxious."

"Anxious enough to leave?" Rain muses, "Or to forget..."

The earth ghoul closes his eyes.

"Humans are funny creatures."

"I don't think this is terribly funny, Mountain..." Rain trills nervously, "I don't think she realizes how serious this is-"

"And I think she does." Mountain counters, "If you think she doesn't, then perhaps you should get to know her beyond the curves of her body."

"I-"

"Milne is not stupid, foolish at times, but she knows full well what she's doing." the other rumbles, "...and would it be so bad?"

Rain furrows his brow.

"Maybe you should ask yourself why you're so worried about it..." Mountain says, "Milne joining the church."

"I'm more concerned about why you seem so calm and resigned to it happening." Rain argues, "She's your friend, and you seem okay with the idea of her possibly forgetting all about you!"

Mountain hums.

"I'm not." he smiles sadly, "Okay with it, that is. But..."

"Milne would make a remarkable ghoul."

[rpf-bat]

"i know it's your favorite" with joeleksi? 🥺🖤

Oh hi Giulia! This one wound up only being 684 words, but I hope you’ll like it anyway! 🖤

Joel’s head hurt as soon as he woke up. He opened his blue eyes, and the sunlight shining through his window, only made the shooting pain worse.

The clock told him it was nine in the morning…he’d gotten home from the bar at 3, so that meant he’d gotten about six hours of sleep.

That’s more than usual, honestly, he thought to himself, as he sat up in his bed.

A wave of nausea swept over him, and he grabbed the trash can from his bedside, thinking for a moment that he was going to be sick.

Thankfully, the wave passed.

Ugh, he thought miserably, as he stood up to close the curtains, why did I drink so much last night?

He’d gone out for drinks with Joonas and Aleksi, at one of their favorite bars in Helsinki. A couple fans had come over and said hi, but for the most part, they’d been able to enjoy themselves peacefully.

A sudden, loud chirp from his phone, made his head ache even more. He saw that he had a text message from Aleksi:

Hey. Did you get home okay last night?

Yeah, I did, Joel replied, quickly switching his phone to silent mode.

How are you feeling? Aleksi asked.

That damn menace probably knew exactly how Joel was feeling! He was the one who kept urging Joel to stay a little longer, to not go home yet….Joel could never resist those big blue puppy-dog eyes, so he’d stayed, and ordered more and more drinks.

I’m hungover af, Joel texted back. He was probably getting too old for this shit.

Aleksi was only twenty-five, so his body could bounce back from a night out easily. But, Joel was going to be thirty this year, and right now, he felt every bit of his age.

On my way, Aleksi replied.

Huh? Joel stared down at the message, not comprehending. Why is he coming over here? To make fun of me?

He shuffled over to his closet, and threw on a NIN T-shirt, not wanting to answer his door shirtless. He knew he should probably shave, as well, but he simply didn’t have the mental bandwidth for that at the moment. Instead, he laid down in his bed again, and hoped that the room would stop spinning.

Twenty minutes later, he heard a knock at his door. He grumbled as he got up to answer it.

“Here you go,” Aleksi greeted him, smiling. Joel realized after a moment that he was holding something out to him - a McDonalds cup.

“I got you a McCafe caramel latte,” Aleksi explained. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“Oh my god, thank you,” Joel grunted, practically snatching the cup out of his hands. He sipped noisily from the straw, feeling a little better as soon as the caffeine hit his tongue.

“Don’t worry, I asked for oat milk instead of regular,” Aleksi assured him. “I know you’re trying to cut back on dairy.”

“You’re amazing,” Joel said appreciatively. Half of the drink had already disappeared down his throat.

“I got you a breakfast sandwich, too,” Aleksi said softly (was he trying to keep his volume down, to avoid making Joel’s headache worse?). “Figured something greasy would make you feel better.”

“You’re the best friend a man could ask for,” Joel sighed.

“Oh, I wasn’t doing it because I want to be just friends,” Aleksi smirked.

“…Huh?” Joel blinked. His brain circuits still weren’t working as quickly as they should.

“Don’t you remember what you said last night?” Aleksi asked.

“…No?” Joel blinked, confused. Last night was a total blur to him.

“You told me you had feelings for me.”

Joel choked on what was left of his coffee.

“Wh…What?” he spluttered. He’d felt that way about Aleksi for a long time, but he’d never meant to say so. Certainly he would only be rejected…right?

Aleksi reached up, and grabbed him by the shirt collar, pulling him down to his level.

“Why don’t you invite me in?” Aleksi whispered into his ear. “And I’ll show you exactly what my feelings towards you are.”

[dsandrvk]

Thursday, June 1 (the second time)

No pictures, because I don't think I have the bandwidth, but just thought I'd do a short update regarding the international date line. While I have crossed it by plane, it has always been a fairly nebulous concept - you lose a day going west and gain one going east, but it was always just sort of built into the plane schedule. Here on the seas it meant living the same day twice. It was our own Groundhog Day, and it was a little weird to wake up and have it be Thursday again. The news kept marching on, but when I went to do my morning puzzles (Wordle, etc.) I discovered I had already done them. It was also interesting to have to reset watches and the phone back an entire day. On the original schedule they only counted June 1 as a single day, but we had activities and a ship schedule for June 1 #1 and June 1 #2.

Because Alaska is pretty much all in the same time zone, we have had to change time more quickly than we did crossing the Atlantic. That has meant moving our clocks one hour forward every night since we left Japan for a total of 7 changes in 7 days. As a result, our sunset time has been getting later (also because we have been heading a bit north, too), and we are all trying to get to bed at a reasonable time so we can get up in time for breakfast. It's hard on the crew, too.

Our weather has been mostly cloudy, and the seas have ranged from flat to about 2 meters, although one morning at breakfast we did a big tilt and my teapot wound up on the floor. We have also seen whales almost every day, lots of seabirds and one day we saw a group of about 20 orcas quite close to the ship. Naturally I only had my phone camera at the time - Russ and I are now carrying our cameras around almost everywhere, but that seems to have discouraged the wildlife.

We have had lots of fun activities, and really gotten to know our fellow passengers - a group of us walk the deck every morning, so we have mostly gotten our 10k steps in. Of course I got double that today, since June 1 was added together. It is a really good group of people, both passengers and crew. We had dinner with the hotel manager a couple of nights ago, and he, the corporate chef, the maitre d', our excursion manager and our future cruise consultant we all know from previous cruises, mostly our Atlantic crossing, where we really got to spend time together. And the fleet captain, who we've sailed with twice, is supposed to join us in Seward. Small world.

We will pass north of Attu, and are scheduled to reach Dutch Harbor on Monday, June 5. After that, our sea days will be few and far between so we're enjoying the luxury of just relaxing (between activities and get-togethers, that is).

I'll probably not send anything until Dutch Harbor, but you never know...

[bullet-prooflove]

Cognac: Jimmy Lanik x Reader

Tagging: @annieradcliff and inator-procrast

Jimmy wasn’t used to thinking about other people, he forced himself to focus on outcomes. He  didn’t allow himself the luxury of becoming invested. He hadn’t been looking for somebody when you came long, he didn’t have the time or the bandwidth to give to somebody else, but you had erupted into his life in a flurry of colour, and before he knew it, he was hooked.

You’d been working one of the charity events that Med had been holding. A Christmas gift drive for kids who wouldn’t get to spend the time at home with their families. Jimmy had been strong armed into wrapping duty by Goodwin, when all he wanted to do was get off his feet and soak in the tub with a tumbler of Scotch. He’d been tired and grumpy by the time he made it to the conference room, there had only been one other person in there adding artful bows to the gifts and meticulously checking off them off the list. He admired your attention to detail; you went out of your way to make the presents look good for the kids and Jimmy couldn’t fault that. You were highly organised, and he respected that. Plus, you’d brought homemade eggnog and gingerbread from the bakery down the street, so his day got a little bit brighter.

What had seemed like a chore in the beginning became a pleasant experience. He’d loosened up after a couple of eggnogs, the amount of Cognac in them definitely had something to do with that. There was something about being around you that felt so easy, he didn’t have to put up a façade, he was simply Jimmy and if he was honest, he hadn’t been Jimmy in such a long time.

You’d kissed him that night, the final gifts were wrapped and piled up ready to go under the tree downstairs and you had been standing in front of the window looking out at the city lights twinkling in the distance.

“It’s beautiful in a way, isn’t it?” You said softly, he’s stood beside you studying the profile of your features before answering.

“Yes, it is.”

You turned to face him in that moment and his breath had caught in his throat. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the festive season or simply you but he felt a rush of passion flood through his system. In that moment he had never wanted anybody as much as you. When you kissed him, you tasted of Cognac, and he savoured the heat of your lips. He didn’t want it to end so he kissed you back with an urgency that you seemed to feel too. He made love to you on the conference room table with your sweater dress shoved up over your hips and his mouth on yours. It was wild and reckless, your teeth nipping at his lower lip when you orgasmed, and fuck if he didn’t love how good it felt when you clenched around his cock as he spilled into you.

You laughed as you came down from the high, his arm still wrapped around your waist and it made him laugh too.

“I don’t do this.” He told you between ragged breathes

“Neither do I.” You said with flushed cheeks.

If he thought you looked beautiful before, you looked fucking gorgeous pressed against him with his dick still deep inside you.

“Dinner?” he suggested, his gaze meeting yours.

“Breakfast.” You had negotiated and he found himself kissing you all over again.

That breakfast had turned into the first of many more and before he realised it a year had gone by and there was barely a night the two of you didn’t spend together. Jimmy loved having you in his bed, tangled up in his sheets, he loved the scent of patchouli and orange blossom on his pillowcases. He loved the softness of your skin under his lips, the way you called his name when he fucked you with abandonment.

In short, he loved you.

Love Jimmy? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[koushisatori]

Surprise

kuroo x f!reader

genre: birthday fluff

warnings: none

word count: 2.3k

note: I made it !! Happy Birthday to you, Kuroo ! <3 - Also I’ll beta it later when i’m home from university, bc it’s 3 am here, oops x.x

Kuroo wasn’t jealous, really because logically there was no reason to be

You were his girlfriend and you did not mind sudden Hollywood blockbuster worthy kisses when he got a spurt of…possessiveness towards you

He is in no way overbearing or anything, both of you share the opinion that even though you’re a couple you don’t have to be together all the time, spend afternoons with your friends

Then again, you two spend quite a lot of time together, with you being the  Volleyball Clubs manager, always staying behind with your team when they practiced way past the official clubs' training's hours

But sometimes he woke up and felt the need to have you all to himself

On those days a slightly lingering gaze by other would irk him enough to    permanently glue himself to your side or back

Because of the rareness of that situation, you generally give into that specific mood and take him either with you if you had plans or adapt to whatever your handsome boyfriend seemed fit

(usually, it consists of getting snacks from the store to make watching movies more fun after you both finished your homework. And also cuddles. Lots and lots and lots of cuddling and kisses.)

Anyway, normally he’s a super laid back, relaxed, and ‘’the best boyfriend in the world, right, baby?’’

Kuroo was happy with being ‘’a bit (big times) nerdy’’ as kenma liked to remark, liked that things had their reasons and were logically intelligible

Well…he quickly realized that, while emotions were chemically explainable this also was as far as logic was helpful with them

Sooo…there was no reasonable excuse for him to feel that ugly burning in his chest watching you ruffle through Lev’s hair and giggle so cutely

But it was his birthday, and you should be all over HIM because HE was YOUR boyfriend and in general, maybe he had one of those not so great days bc not only did he get stuck in his bedsheets and face planted to the ground first thing in the morning but his breakfast toast also landed with its face on the kitchen floor just after he put away all the things he used

You were…not avoiding him but kind of distant with your thoughts

At lunch, he was telling you something you’d usually find at least funny if not hilarious because your humor was so fantastically similar to his, but all you did was smile lightly

You even whispered with Yaku instead of talking to him !! how dare you

Rest in peace, Kuroo (you will survive one day with a bit less attention of your s/o)

He wasn’t jealous of Lev or thought that you suddenly developed feelings for the younger boy

He was jealous because that tall child hoarded all of your attention, while you had looked at him maybe twice, three times tops, in the last hour

‘’Kuroo.’’ To the untrained ear the small setters voice as passive as usual. Kuroo though is able to easily distinguish the various different layers of Kozume Kenma’s very real, emotional bandwidth. The captain did hear Kenma and his questioning as well as slightly worried tone, he simply chooses to not react in favor of shooting (barely) decently hidden death glares at the to-tall-for-his-own-good-boy. 

‘’Kuroo.’’ The slight change in his childhood friend's voice was enough for the black-haired player to grudgingly turn away from you and Lev to look at Kenma.

‘’Yes.’’ Tetsurou huffs out, giving his best to not sound like a petulant child. ‘’You’re so dumb.’’ Kenma said dryly, definitely analyzing him. The questioning sound leaving Kuroo was close to embarrassing, a quick cough and back straightening later, he adds ‘’You wound me. Right here.’’ While pressing his hand flat against his chest. ‘’Where’s my understanding childhood friend to put balm on my hurting heart by sharing emotionally charged, empathic words with me?’’

Instead of offering the desired words, the smaller boy rolls his eyes before he averts them to his hand-held gaming console. ’’Can you put that thing away, we’re at practice Kenma.’’ Kuroo all but unintentionally whined. 

Everything was stressing him out today. Usually, his childhood friend at least stuck to the general rule of not using it outside the breaks. But obviously, there was a plot against him going on with the goal to annoy him more than usual because, of course, why not doing it on his damn birthday. Nice friends and their nice presents.

Just like Kuroo did mere minutes before, Kenma decided to simply…ignore his request half voiced as some kind of instruction. Well…things didn’t work like they were supposed to, he didn’t feel like arguing with his friend so he let him be for now. Rather than that, he turned back to you and Lev, who – for once – seemed eager to train his digging and passing game because you threw the volleyball for him to dive after.

‘’Where in freaking hell is Yaku…’’ Kuroo muttered grumpily, before repeating louder ‘’Yaku! Why am I the only third…Noboyuki!’’These definitely aren’t my friends, he thought while finally giving in to his deepest desire of ripping you away from the grey-haired future wannabe ace. 

‘’You truly are dense when it comes to (Y/N),’’ Kenma says, moving away towards the benches, before swerving around them to leave for the clubroom. ‘’The definition of tunnel vision.’’

The thing is, Kuroo heard Kenma say it, but his brain refused to acknowledge them, too focused on finally being in the spotlight of your focus.

 Meanwhile, you were watching your dark-haired boyfriend closer than he realized. You carried the whole plan. Or rather your ability to make him lose focus on anything that isn’t you, with just the right amount of addressing the slight possessive side of his and deprivation of your attention.

Even though all of this was just so the others could fulfill their part of the plan, you hate how it led him to mope around the whole day. It was so hard to not laugh about his stupid science joke at lunch and overall, not tell him all day how glad you were that he was born. This is his special day, why wouldn’t you tell him how much you loved his presence and his annoyingly attractive smirk? If not for the others and them begging and bribing you, you would smooch his kissable cheeks, nose, forehead, and lips all day long to honor this special date.

You are an amazing and emphatic girlfriend, so…of course, you realize that his mood in general is rather on the bad side today. He wants you close and to himself, and you did the complete opposite! Tetsurou would absolutely give you an ear full later when he finally understood the whole plan.

Nonetheless, it is kind of cute how he tried to hide that he was sulking. Your big baby of a boyfriend was currently trying to kill poor Lev with his gaze alone, staring holes into the back of his head all the while directing puppy dog eyes at you to relent and come over.

Usually, your Tetsurou was the perfect team captain. Attentive, clever, strategical, and just the right amount of authoritarian and approachable. But with his mind stuck on questioning why you were being weird to him on his birthday, he had yet to realize that through the whole time of today’s practice all of his teammates inexplicably went missing for about 15 minutes before they either sneaked back in (the first years and some of the second years) or openly announced a little too detailed information on how, for example, the bathroom visit has been absolutely necessary and could not be postponed.

The only problem: Lev wasn’t allowed to know of the plan until a second beforehand to not accidentally spoil the surprise out of pure excitement to surprise his Kuroo-senpai.

When you see your better half starting to approach the two of you, yelling for his vice-captain and the libero simultaneously, you whisper ‘’Lev, when I say now, you have to start running okay and call for Yaku. Ask him to practice your receives as loud as you can, and take off over to the clubroom as fast as possible, alright? Also, please don’t fall, we don’t need a bloody and broken nose, Tetsu is pissed enough already. Please do it for me, okay?’’ It was a bit unfair of you to look at him hopefully like that, but as the team manager, you posessed a certain power none of the other third years had over the younger players.

Just a moment before Kuroo got the chance to grab the clueless middle blockers shirt collar, you voice out a hushed ‘’Now!’’. You immediately look up innocently to your boyfriend and finally put the warm smile on your lips that wanted to sit there since your eyes fell on him the first time this morning. ‘’Tetsu...is everything okay?’’ - ‘’Yaku-senpai, please help me with my receives!’’

‘’Lev never asks for receiving practice...’’ is…not the thing you wanted your boyfriend to say. Panicking that he might find out now, still a bit too early, you do the only thing that you know WILL take his mind off of it. You cup his cheek with your hands and pull him down to press your lips against his. 

His reaction was immediate, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you so close to him that not even a feather would fit between the two of you. Getting into the spontaneous moment, you happily loop your arms around his neck, smiling softly into the kiss. 

Yeah...you definitely had missed that.

When you break apart, he pecks your lips a few additional times for good measure before he bends down even more to bury his face in your neck, enjoying how your fingers softly stroke through and play with his hair, in all the right ways, helping him to relax for the first time in hours. ‘’Baby,…’’ he murmurs against your skin ‘’…no one is training the way they should, let’s just ditch practice. We get a cake from the bakery down the street and eat it in bed, okay?’’

For the second time today, you feel bad. Your boyfriend's voice sounds tired and that was not how a birthday boy was supposed to sound. With his face in your neck, you were able though to watch the entrance. They should come in any second now. You feel tempted to give into Tetsurou’s wishes.

Can they hurry up?! 

The thought desperately shoots through your head, because even though he was currently not paying attention to anything but recharging and breathing you in, Kuroo is way too perceptive to not get behind the ruckus going on in the gym the whole afternoon.

‘’We can cuddle later, Tetsu, I promise my whole afternoon is all for you. If you want I can even sleep over.’’ Your soothing words made his invisible cat ears prick up and listen interested. You knew that, from the moment you both enter the comfort of his home, he would drape himself over you for permanent, never-ending cuddles. The only reason for him to let go of you - unwillingly so - will be you whining about having to use the bathroom. For everything else, you would have to carry a (nearly) dead weight of the size and weight of your boyfriend everywhere.

‘’I haven’t heard Tora for a while now….’’ The raven-haired middle blocker mumbles, and your heart picks up some speed again.

Looking for words you stammer some intangible syllables, which lead Kuroo to look up, suspicion swirling in his hazel eyes. ‘’Baby…what’s wrong?’’ he asks, cocking his head to the side, watching you like a cat its prey. Quickly waving your hands in front of you, you hastily answer a ‘’Nothing.’’ And try to smile away the panic.

Before he got the chance to repeat his question and pry it out of you, the gym darkens, and you breathe out a sigh of relief. Just on time. With the door opening a little source of light illuminates his teammate's faces with his closest friends at the front. Yaku holding a cake stabbed with 18 sparklers, and Nobuyuki holding an unholy amount of the ugliest birthday ballons you had ever seen. All of them together slaughtering the happy birthday song in such a passionate manner, that you could see yourself being able to forgive them the torture they put you through in the near future. 

‘’Come one, birthday boy.’’ You say with a loving smile, and grab his hand to pull him to the rest of the group.

The moment the lights flicker back on and everyone is cheering out loud one last time. You realize belated that Kuroo (intended) and you (unintended) were besieged with confetti and glitter. (You, until this day, suspect Yamamoto who looked a bit too innocent for your taste.)

‘’All of that…for me?’’ Kuroo questions, his gorgeous eyes shining tell telling in the remaining light of the sparkles. Following his words, Kenma takes a small step forward quickly handing over a small book – filled with birthday wishes, pictures that were taken with each and all of them, inside jokes and doodles - just to move out of the spotlight again as quickly as he jumped into it. ‘’Surprise, Tetsu.’’ You say with a sweet smile, that makes him move closer to you to gift himself a taste of your lips.

Before things get to turn mushy and emotional, a chant of Cake! Cake! Cake! – started by Lev and Tora, joined by everyone, disrupts the moment the two of you had.

‘’Okay, okay! I hear the will of the people, I’ll submit to it!’’ Kuroo gives in laughing. ‘’But…’’ a theatrical moment of silence ‘’I want to cut the cake with (Y/N) together!’’ Your boyfriend proudly announces, and, to his delight, you blush furiously. Yakus laughing remark of ‘’Oi, Kuroo, this is not your wedding, you know!’’ was followed by various joking wolf whistles and some hollering. You didn’t know how you ended up being in the center of attention together with him, but when Tetsuro easily replies ’’Well, I need to perfect this skill it for the real ceremony after party one day.’’ You knew that you wouldn’t want to be somewhere else.

[bobasheebaby]

200 Brooklyn 99 Prompts

Rosa

1 “Talk to him, that's what friends do.” “Nope. I'm gonna wait 'til I'm on my deathbed, get in the last word and then die immediately.” “That's your plan for dealing with this?” “That's my plan for dealing with everything. I have seventy-seven arguments I'm going to win that way.”

2 “I'm already seeing somebody, NAME.” “Oh, and just like that, things got interesting.” “And just like that, I left.”

3 “NAME is even wearing his/her formal leather jacket.” “It's the one without any blood on it.”

4 “Right, that's the guy/girl you said the lame stuff about. Like he’s/she's a good listener.” “Sorry, what do you look for in a guy/girl?” “Real stuff, like the shape of his/her ass.”

5 “Sorry I'm late. I had to go back to the deli and return my Everything Bagel. In what world does everything not include beef jerky?” “All of them.”

6 “He/She also likes to look up recipes online and go, "Who's got the time?"

7 “Thank you, NAME. Your entire life is garbage.”

8 “NAME , tell us about your family.” “I have one.”

9 “Anyone over the age of six celebrating a birthday should go to hell.”

10 “I am dating his/her nephew/niece. Now we are hanging out on weekends. What is next? Oh! Small talk.”

11 “Wait, is that a smile I see?” “Possibly. My immune system is too weak to fight off my smile muscles.”

12 “Whoa, what happened? You know what, forget it. I'll just read NAME’s notes.”

13 “NAME? Are you stuck in there?” “No, I'm in here by choice.” “Oh, 'cause I hear some banging noises as if someone was struggling to open the door.” “No. That was the pipes.” “Or, is it the sound of you learning how to ask for help? You know, you can't spell ‘independent’ without ‘dependent.’” “And you can't spell ‘Go [bleep] yourself’ without ‘[bleep] you.’”

14 “I've said "excuse me" more times this morning than I have in my entire life. Twice!”

15 “Oh, nothing better after a long shift than coming to BAR NAME. It's like Cheers, where everybody knows your name.” “A place where everybody knows your name is hell. You're describing hell.”

16 “So, what is this? Casual, serious? I need to know how to make fun of you.”

17 “NAME and I broke up. He/She ate soup too much.” “What, like every day?” “It happened twice.”

18 “So, what are you drinking?” “I'll have a margarita. But, like, a skinny margarita. So, like, tequila, lime, and a tiny splash of agave.” “Mm. I refuse to order that.”

19 “What are you looking all wistful about?” “Just thinking, about relationships and love, and how I'm way better at them than I thought I'd be. Should I do a TED Talk on it?” “Doesn't seem any dumber than all the other TED Talks.”

20 “Why didn't you tell me? I had no idea things were getting that serious.” “Yeah, it's very embarrassing having feelings.”

21 “So are you bringing someone to the wedding?” “No, I'm taking a break from dating for a while.” “What?” “I'm sick of asking people how many siblings they have. Oh, is it somewhere between zero and two? How fascinating.”

22 “I grew a goatee and it looks amazing, and I know you can see it.” “Of course we can see it, NAME. It's horrible.”

23 “It feels like you're being a little harsh.” “Thanks, good note. I was going for extremely harsh. I'll turn it up.”

24 “Are your senses heightened?” “I think I might be pregnant, not bitten by a radioactive spider.”

25 “You're what sneezes are!”

26 “Seriously, you guys should stand up once in a while. You know, for your hearts.”

27 “NAME, this is dumb. I'm just gonna go.” “No, no, no. You promised me more time. I still have seven minutes.” “I really don't want to miss my flight, and I cannot physically stand the way that room smells anymore.” “Just breathe through your mouth.”

28 “You know, some people say, ‘Mo money, mo problems,’ but those people are idiots. Money's amazing.”

29 “Dude, just admit you ruined everything and turned our lives into a living hell. No biggie.”

30 “We don't want anyone getting alcohol poisoning, so if you throw up, you're disqualified.” “I never throw up. I just tell my stomach to deal with it. My body is terrified of me.”

Jake

31 “I also have a hairline fracture in my thumb. Mankind's least important finger, am I right?”

32 “I wasn't hurt that badly. The doctor said all my bleeding was internal. That's where the blood's supposed to be.”

33 “How much could I possibly owe you? Fifty, sixty bucks?” “Two thousand, four hundred and thirty seven dollars.” “Dollars?! Wait, of course dollars. Why was that the part I was surprised by?”

34 “So, I'm going to grab a healthy breakfast.” “Are those gummy bears wrapped in a fruit roll-up?” “Breakfast burrito, but yeah.” “I pity your dentist.” “Joke's on you. I don't have a dentist.”

35 “I'm talking to my credit card company. I tried to get an online subscription to the New Yorker and they declined me. Apparently, based on my previous purchases, they assumed it was fraud. That's crazy. I'm fancy. One time I had coffee-flavored ice cream.”

36 “Rules are made to be broken.” “They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken.” “Uh, piñatas.” “Glow sticks.” “Karate boards.” “Spaghetti when you have a small pot.” “Rules.”

37 “Hey, can I ask you something?” “Mm-hmm.” “If the toilets drain into the ocean, does that mean a tiny shark could swim up and bite me in the butt?” “No, not at all.” “Psh, lame.”

38 “NAME, super important question. Which one of these shirts should I wear to dinner with your dad/mom tonight?” “Those are exactly the same.” “I have a signature look, NAME.”

39 “Hello, good sir, I'd like your finest bottle of wine, please.” “That will be $1,600.” “Great, I'd like your $8-est bottle of wine, please.”

40 “I am straight-up depressed. NAME’s been doing her best to cheer me up. He/She gave me this sticker this morning just for waking up.” “Ew, it's like you're dating your teacher.” “I know, it's so hot.”

41 “Wait. Before you say anything, I want to guess what happened based on your face. Someone died. No! You won a prize. I'm not getting better at this.”

42 “What is the bandwidth on the wifi here? We have much content to stream.”

43 “Oh, you sweaty, chair-spinning morons. You're gonna get us out of here.”

44 “Sir, I think I speak for all of us when —“ “He/She doesn't.” “He/She doesn't.”

45 “So, your brother/sister's a bit of a nightmare.” “I wouldn't say that. I mean, at most, he’s/she's a daymare.” “Those are so much scarier.” “Yeah.”

46 “Look, NAME, I burnt two hundred calories.” “That's your heart rate.” “Yeah, that checks out.”

47 “I don't slump, people. I opposite of slump. I pmuls. That's slump backwards and it's what I do. I pmuls all over this bitch.”

48 “Excuse me. We were just looking for a place to —“ “Boink.” “Yes, boink. That's my preferred term for it, too.”

49 “Thank you for doing this. I love you.” “Noice. Smort. I love you too.”

50 “Adult parties? I believe they're called orgies.”

51 “I have a sexy voice!

Champagne.

Mountain range.

Hugs.”

52 “Has anyone ever told you you look just like a statue?” “Yes.”

53 “NAME, you're smiling. It's very weird. Like seeing a turtle out of its shell.”

54 “You look happy. Let me guess. Your egg sandwich fell on the floor, and they gave it to you for free.” “No. Can you do that? Why doesn't everyone just drop their sandwiches on the floor?” “I was trying to insult you.” “And instead you gave me an amazing life hack!”

55 “So, we gonna talk about what happened back there? I haven't seen someone cry that much since NAME heard they were remaking ‘First Wives Club.’”

56 “Hey, there, NAME. Everything okay?” “No, I'm having a meltdown.” “Props. That was amazing.” “Thanks. It was a lot of work.”

57 “Almost makes me wanna take things seriously all the time. But then I'm like ‘boobs, farts, boobs, whatever’.”

58 “Ahh, babe, this is so nice. There are hot stones on our butts for no reason.” “Not on mine. My butt stones keep falling off, because I'm so tense about NAME being here and ruining everything.”

59 “Okay, don't shoot! That's how people get shot.”

60 “Rule number 3: Let's not have sex right away.” “Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool. No doubt, no doubt, no doubt. Good rule. No sex. Good rule.”

Charles

61 “Okay, but I thought since you were in charge, maybe I could be your right hand man? Your Tinker Bell?” “Tinker Bell?” “Let me tell you something about Tinker Bell. Tinker Bell is a loyal lieutenant and a real thorn in the side of Captain Hook.”

62 “NAME, why don't you show Danger what a fax machine is.” “Okay. Imagine a letter had unprotected sex with a phone.”

63 “Hey, NAME, are you ready to go streaking?” “What?” “That's what my dad/mom and I called getting blonde streaks in your hair. We used to do it to our ponytails on road trips. You just take a little lemon up top, and let the sun do the rest. We called it giving each other road head.” “You just said you called it going streaking.” “It had a couple names.”

64 “So we have good news, and we have bad news.” “My Nana always said, ‘Bad news first because the good news is probably a lie.’ Fun fact: she made me cry a lot.”

65 “What about me? What if something happens to NAME, and he never gets to meet my baby? I don't want to hang out with some stupid baby who's never met NAME.”

66 “Oh, you're right. I'm gonna tell him/her. It might not be today. It might not be tomorrow. It definitely won't be later than tomorrow. So pretty much today or tomorrow then.”

67 “No! I was eavesdropping. I'm always eavesdropping.” “I don't like it.” “Look, I didn't spend the last seven years watching your love ripen, only to have it sullied by a city hall wedding. You're getting married right here, right now.”

68 “I know you think my judgement's clouded because I like him/her a little bit.” “You doodled your wedding invitation.” “No, that's our joint tombstone.” “My mistake.”

69 “How many times have I smacked you in your face?” “Lost count.” “And you still have no fear of me.” “I'm trying to read your womb vibe.” “Exactly. Knock it off.”

70 “Okay, first of all, NAME, you look amazing. Secondly, I made an appointment at the salon with Nikki, for you, under the name Gabriella Fuentes de San Miguel Estrada. I had fun with the name.” “Clearly.”

71 “He’s/She's got a type, which is really any one but you.” “Yeah, that was my ex-husband/ex-wife's type, too.”

72 “Sexy train is leaving the station. Check out this caboose. Later, sluts.”

73 “I can't wait to see you, my luscious little breakfast quiche. I just want to draw you a bubble bath and spoon-feed you caviar. I think we should open up a joint checking account. I love you. [pause] What am I doing?” “It's okay. I hung up right after ‘Chucklebunny’.” “Help me. I've gone Full NAME.”

74 “Do you desire a crispen potato?” “Oh, don't mind if I do-ble. Wait a minute. Crispen potato. Why are you fancy talking.” “How dare you, sir/madam. I speak the common tongue.” “There it is again. You only do that when you're lying or hiding something.” “Hiding? Ha. Pish-posh.”

75 “Hey, donut holes. Don't mind if I do. Eurgh! Fish? Fish donuts, NAME? What is wrong with you?” “It's takoyaki. I'm drowning my sorrows in octopus balls.”

76 “Put on a T-shirt for all I care. It doesn't matter what you wear.” “Of course it matters. He has to wear the smaller checks. Big checks wash him out. Where are you, NAME?”

77 “Ooh, if they have your phone, we can track where they're going. I have ‘Find My Phone’ set up to track you. What? I do that for all my friends, not just you.” “Show me.” “There's no time!”

78 “You okay?” “Yeah, no burns. The doctor said I was lucky my body was so damp.”

79 “You guys have been down here for two hours. What, did you have sex forty times?”

80 “What? You don't need closet space. You have, like, one outfit.”

81 “You just graduated pie school, bitches. [pause] Sorry I said bitches, I'm just really worked up.”

82 “So, I know you're NAME’s best friend, and —“ “Did he/she say that? Did you get that on tape?” “No.” “No, he/she didn't say that or no, you didn't get it on tape? Doesn't matter. Either way, you screwed up big time.”

83 “What you did is the culinary equivalent of unprotected sex.”

84 “That's right. Boom. Just kicked Santa in the testicles.”

85 “No, there's no one in my life. [wink] Sort of a sad thing to wink about, I realize now.”

86 “NAME! Were you dreaming about NAME again?” “Why did you wake me up?! I told you never to wake me up!”

87 “You used all the touching time, NAME. I get 100% of the goodbye touching time. 100%.”

88 “Do you wanna know why he/she went out with him/her and not you?” “Yeah.” “Because he/she actually asked him/her out.”

89 “NAME, will you taste this batter?” “Mm-hmm. Hmm. I think it's a little off.” “You know what's off? Your mouth! Why NAME lets your stupid tongue anywhere near him/her I'll never know. Nope, I forgot the sugar. That's on me.”

90 “There's no need for NAME to see me unleash the beast.”

Captain Holt

91 “Look at you. Always working. What happened to my fun big/little brother/sister?” “Fun? I was never fun. You take that back.”

92 “It's the most fun day of the year. Something you wouldn't understand because you're not programmed to feel joy.” “Yes, but my software is due for an exuberance upgrade.”

93 “Sticks and stones, NAME.” “Describing your breakfast?”

94 “NAME, how are you feeling?” “Better today. I even managed to eat some plain toast this morning.” “Smart. Something bland.” “That's my favorite breakfast.”

95 “Joining us for lunch, Sir?” “Oh, no, I've already consumed the required calories for this day period.” “Yummy.”

96 “You all right, NAME? Tough weekend?” “I went to Barbados with my husband/wife. We wove hats out of palm fronds and swam with the stingrays. I've never been happier.”

97 “Maybe I should wing it. Love, it sustains you. It's like oatmeal.” “Okay. Okay. Not bad for winging it.” “I lied. Took me two hours to write that.”

98 “I do not have a problem. If I want to play Kwazy Cupcakes, I will play Kwazy Cupcakes. Kwazy is a difficult word to say in anger, but I think I've made my feelings clear.”

99 “This place is so romantic.” “Yeah, and so intimate.” “Don't worry. I'm not listening to you. I'm just thinking about how this sea bass is cold but not as cold and cruel as the hands of fate that have thrust my entire life into darkness.” “Ah, damn it. I just ordered the sea bass.”

100 “Yeah, and your new shirt is very aggressive and confusing. Is the pineapple the slut, or is it calling someone else a slut?” “Clearly the pineapple is the slut.” “Huh.”

101 “Oh, I've caused a problem. I think I am getting a text message. Bloop. Ah, there it is.”

102 “So nice of you to greet us, NAME. I thought surely you'd still be crushed under that house in Munchkinland.”

103 “So, do you NAME --“ “Yes.” “And do you --“ “Yes. Yes. We do. We're married.”

104 “I mean, don't people call you NAME?” “How dare you.”

105 “So you lied to me? Out of pity. You pity me.” “I wouldn't put it that way.” “I would. I am offended. I am angry. I am very tired. So I'm gonna take a nap, but when I wake up, oh, you are in for it.”

106 “Look at that. You've helped me find my smile.”

107 “Huh. Meat from the street. Sounds like a fun treat. Hah. I'm a poet and ... I didn't even know I was rhyming those words. But it happened anyway.”

108 “Oh, look at that. An alert. I'm probably trending already. What? My account has been deactivated?” “Twitter thinks you're a bot.” “Why? I am a human. I am a human male/female.”

109 “Care to sit? I'm sure you'd like to take some weight off your cloven hooves.” “Call me the devil, NAME? How original.” “Actually, I was calling you a goat. You goat.”

110 “NAME! I'm coming with you.” “Thank you, NAME.” “I'm also coming.” “Not necessary.”

111 “Spot checks are done. Needless to say I'm thoroughly underwhelmed.” “Huh. From your expression, I would have guessed constipated. Or chilly.”

112 “NAME, you have a pretty low bar for what you consider drama. Once, I used an exclamation point in a email. You called me Diana Ross.” “I assure you, in this case, I do not exaggerate.”

113 “I know they say it's not good to have a TV in the bedroom. Which is why I don't.”

114 “NAME, did you just laugh?” “Uproariously.”

115 “You know when you play along with the robot jokes, it kinda ruins my enjoyment of them?” “Yes, I know.”

116 “And what do you hope to get out of this, NAME? Let me guess revenge on Dorothy for killing your sister?”

117 “It was a good game though for a dumbass.” Okay, you're kinda overusing that one. Maybe switch it up a little bit.” “Oh, good note. You dick.” “That landed good.”

118 “Dancing over. Situation defused.” “No!”

119 “All right, NAME, I'm sick of you wasting time. So, yes, I spilled some minestrone on my pants and I'm sitting in my underwear. Happy?”

120 “You found me. Drinking seltzer in the shadows.”

Gina

121 “It's a sloppy Jessica. Mac n cheese, chili, pizza on a bun. Its everything I've wanted to eat for the last 48 hours.” “What happened? I thought you were gonna 'last forever bitches.'” “Turns out I gave up easy. You hear that bitches? I gave up so easy.”

122 “If NAME had a twin, he/she would have eaten him/her in the womb.”

123 “Wait a minute, I think I just figured something out. I got to go.” “Aren't you forgetting something?” [person a gives Person b a kiss on the forehead] “Uh no, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?”

124 “The English language can not fully capture the depth and complexity of my thoughts. So I'm incorporating Emoji into my speech to better express myself. Winky face.”

125 “All right, gang. Diet day 4. How's everyone holding up?” “Honestly, I'm going to last forever. You hear that bitches? I'm gonna last forever.”

126 “If I die, turn my tweets into a book!”

127 “The only reason I didn't tell you is I don't value you as people, so why be honest?”

128 “Breakups are a cartoony thumbs down. They make people feel face-with-Xs-for-the-eyes.”

129 “I'm sorry. I just don't think this is something you're good at.” “What? The only thing I'm not good at is modesty, because I'm great at it.”

130 “Click. I just captured the exact moment you realized you had failed. I guess we all got something out of this.”

131 “It's so addictive, right? I play so much that when I close my eyes at night, I just see cupcakes instead of my normal dizzying array of flashing lights.”

132 “Forget your ex with meaningless sex. It rhymes because it's true.”

133 “NAME. NAME. NAME, I screwed up, big time.” “NAME, given your daily life experiences, you're gonna have to be more specific.”

134 “So, talk to me, goose. How are we looking?” “Sexy, but not like we're trying too hard. Like, sure, we're trying, but it's almost effortless.”

135 “Give me the ring.” “You sound like Gollum.” “That means nothing to me. I don't see those movies, I'm too pretty.”

136 “Oh no, six drink NAME isn't fun. He’s/She's just sad. Damn it!”

137 “I never have second thoughts. That's the luxury of having great first thoughts.”

138 “Ugh, constantly getting NAME’s approval is the worst.” “Yes. I can only imagine.”

139 “You think you can just bully people, but you can't. It's not okay. I'm the bully around here. Ask anyone.”

140 “This just might work out after all.” “You're damn right it will, 'cause we're a ragtag, scrappity, fart-dumb, moron parade, smart-ass team!”

141 “Okay, NAME, stop freaking out. I have the day off. I can step in and help.” “Yeah, me too. I'm not off, but I come and go as I please. It's part of my charm. I'm like an outdoor cat.”

142 “Gina, please keep an eye on NAME today. He's/She’s gonna say something to the wrong person and get himself/herself punched.” “Sure, I'd love to see NAME get punched.” “Try again.” “I will stop NAME from getting punched.” “Correct.”

143 “Oh, I want him/her out. But I'm too scared to tell him/her. “ “All right, listen. I know that your spirit animal is a caterpillar that's been stepped on —“ “Mm-hmm.”

144 “What are you creeps doing? You made me look away from my phone. You better pray I didn't miss a text.” “In the two seconds you looked away?” “Seventeen texts. All of them important.”

145 “What is my favorite soup?” “Chicken noodle.” “Potato leek.” “Corn frickin' noodle. I mean, chowder, damn it.” “You're all wrong. I've never had soup.” “Don't bother. They all suck.”

146 “Okay, so that plumber was useless. But we are two smart and capable people who can definitely figure out how to fix a toilet.” “Of course we can. The internet will tell us what to do. She always does.”

147 “It's crazy how much he/she flirts with me.”

148 “Good morning.” “For whom?” “For you-m.”

149 “So he/she didn't say what happened, which can only mean one thing.” “He's/She’s in a fight club.”

150 “What's up? How can I help?” “Well, when I was a kid, I invented a magnetic flashlight clip so I could read under the covers. This clip and I went all around the world together the Shire, Sweet Valley High, Terabithia.” “But never to a friend's house, huh?” “Uncalled for.”

Amy

151 “That stuff with us is in the past. We talked about that.” “I know, but that was before you saw me in this dope ass tux. I mean you must be freaking out.” “Oh, I really am. I'm really into rented clothes. I love how many butts have been in them.”

152 “You know, we're birds of a feather, you and I.” “I hate cliches.” “Cliches are the worst.”

153 “And now I don't know what to do.” “I think you do know what to do.” “Thanks, NAME.” [leaves the room] “I have no idea what he’s/she's gonna do but that's the safest way to give NAME advice.” “Yep.”

154 “Insult me all you want, for I have only this to say —“ “Victory shall be mine!” “I heard you practicing in the shower. You can't surprise me. Letting me into your life was the worst mistake you ever made.” “Cool, fun take on our relationship.”

155 “NAME, where you at?” “Four drinks.” “What's four-drink NAME again?” “Why don't you come over here and find out?” “Right, Horny NAME”

156 “I'm sorry. We only excluded you because you're kind of an over-texter.” “Over-texter? That's not even a thing.” “Oh really? So you don't remember the time you sent 97 unanswered texts in a five-minute span?” “My phone vibrated itself off the desk. I think it was committing suicide.”

157 “What the hell? I used NAME's exact recipe. I know I'm not a great cook, but I love following instructions.”

158 “What's going on? Is this a dream? No, I'm not holding a label maker.”

159 “My power went out last night and my alarm didn't go off.” “Your alarm is power dependent? You brought this on yourself, son.”

160 “I'd also like to apologize for my friend. His /Her parents didn't give him/her enough attention.”

161 “I'm in! A bet which improves someone's manners? Double score.”

162 “He’s/She's scared.” “He’s/She's not scared. With all due respect, NAME, NAME has no feelings.”

163 “I'm so cold even my fiery dance moves aren't keeping me warm.”

164 “I'm sorry. I tried to be myself and they hated it.”

165 “All right, someone's gotta go out there and kill that feathery bastard. NAME, you're always looking for an excuse to behead something.”

Sergeant Jeffords

166 “It was like taking candy from a baby.” “Why are you giving candy to a baby in the first place? Don't give candy to a baby! They can't brush their teeth!”

167 “I was raised on disco. Little NAME loved to hustle.”

168 “Or is your favorite artist really Taylor Swift?” [Scoffs] “No.” “Lie.” “All right, fine, she is. She makes me feel things.” “She makes all of us feel things!”

169 “Urgh, what's in these?” “Potatoes, butter, a little milk. Oh, and I ran out of salt, so I used baking soda.” “Why wouldn't you? They're both white powders. Of course they're interchangeable.” “Yeah.”

170 “I warned you against using donuts. They're my trigger food.”

171 “Hey, NAME, you know how you're really good at doodling?” “I know you think you're complimenting me, but calling them doodles is an insult. You a big fan of Picasso's doodles?”

172 “Your tone's braggy but your words are real sad.”

173 “See, NAME? Tough love works.” “Damn it! NAME proved the wrong point.”

174 “Now, be respectful and grieve your asses off.” “I don't know why this is happening.” “NAME, I love it. Everyone follow his/her lead!”

175 “Everything's spoiled. My lunch is ruined. My chicken, my potatoes, pasta, my meatballs, ham, my yogurt.” “Wow, that's a lot of yogurt.” “I love yogurt.”

176 “Kind of seemed like you were gonna get up and leave after saying all that.” “I was, but I think I hear NAME.”

177 “You better look cute in this picture, or no one's gonna want you. Do something with your damn paws!”

178 “My tolerance has really changed since I had kids!”

179 “I'm hungry!” “Oh, you're in luck; the fanny pack is filled with granola.” “Mmm! Loose granola.” “I don't want fanny granola! I want steaks and whiskey!”

180 “You probably can't tell, but I'm flexing my brain like crazy right now.”

181 “What's that smell? That's lavender. NAME loves lavender.”

182 “Okay. Excuse me. Can we please eat? My body is starting to digest itself. NAME needs nutrients!”

183 “Don't look at me. NAME wastes all that time building muscles, make him do it.” “Oh, come on, you all know these are just for show.”

184 “Sorry? You bumbling son of a bitch. You just ruined my life. I hope you get hit by a truck and a dog takes a dump on your face.” “Nothing to see here. Just a little hypoglycaemic rage. Move along.”

185 “I feel like a proud mama hen whose baby chicks have learned to fly!”

Hitchcock

186 “NAME, why do you have your shirt off?” “Can't spill food on your shirt if you're not wearing one.”

187 “What bet? What are you guys talking about?” “Seriously? The bet? They've been keeping score all year. It comes up all the time. What are you doing all day?!” “Nothing. Why, you want to hang out?”

188 “So you just want us to lie on the ground and do nothing like a bunch of losers?” “Yes, precisely.” “No!” “Jackpot!”

189 “I don't like it. Something stinks.” “Well, I'm sorry, but I refuse to mask my natural musk with a bunch of chemicals.”

190 “My God. NAME, are you the only person still making sense?” “Yeah. It's bad.”

191 “All right, food is ready, decorations are set, guests should start arriving any moment, and the chairs are still perfection.” “He/She said they're perfection. I'm so proud of you, buddy.” “It was you. You made this happen.”

192 “Who do you think it's gonna be?” “I've no idea.” “I bet it's me. I just hope I'm ready.”

193 “Okay, look, this was maybe a weird way to start the night, but the good news is, we can still make our dinner reservation and no one got hurt.” “Actually, I cut myself real bad.” “Of course you did.”

Scully

194 “Oh, so your plan is to not take this seriously at all?” “Oh, I am as serious as a heart attack. No offense, NAME.” “Nah. Mine are never that serious. I call 'em ‘oopsies’.”

195 “I miss my home chair.” “You miss a chair?”

196 “Are those thumbtacks? What the hell, NAME?” “I thought they'd make good confetti.” “Why?”

197 “All right, anyone else have questions? NAME, NAME, you've been weirdly silent.” “We didn't want to say anything that would get us uninvited.”

198 “Okay, first of all, I want to say that this was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make. There is so much talent in this room.” “Just tell us, bitch. Act as if you already have the role.”

199 “I'll be back. Don't move.” “Not a problem. I hate moving.”

200 “Where should we begin? Do you have any experience with puzzles?” “Yes. I've never solved one.”

[beca-mitchell]

we are the wild youth (3/5)

chapter 3: it's been so damn hard on my own

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Chapter summary: In an extremely shocking twist, Beca realizes that she had been falling for Chloe all this time.

Again, rated M/E for depictions and references to coitus. Chapter also has references to deaths of family members.

Chapter title is from A R I Z O N A’s “Let Me Know”.

Now there’s an “EP”/playlist!

Word count: 5,574

Read below or on AO3.

It is the morning that follows, a sleepy, cold morning, that Beca gets that long-awaited email from her boss. It is an email telling her that his contact in New York pulled through.

Beca is wide awake.

Sammy ended up sending his contact some of Beca’s original stuff, finally deeming it ‘good enough’ to be viable, and well—

A job opportunity—no, better. A job offer at a record label as a junior producer.

She finally gets to leave. She’s going to leave once she graduates and she’s going to finally pursue her dreams.

She drops her arm back onto the bed, suddenly more conscious and aware of her other arm, trapped beneath Chloe’s body as she snoozes next to her. Beca ends up lying awake until Chloe slowly awakens as well, stretching contentedly like a cat in sunshine against Beca’s side. There is a distinct youthfulness to Chloe’s features this early in the morning, Beca thinks—like for once Chloe isn’t plagued by her past, her present, or future.

“What?” Beca asks when Chloe stares at her with a content, sleepy expression on her face. It makes Beca nervous, but she can’t pinpoint why.

“Nothing,” Chloe says finally and instead surges up to press a deep, wanting kiss against Beca’s lips, eviscerating all other wake-up calls Beca has ever received in her life.

  — — x — —

 “I have a question,” Chloe says as they mull over formulas, proofs, and endless all-day breakfast at Carl’s later that day.

Without looking up, Beca sighs. “Chloe we just went over basic derivatives and you definitely—”

Chloe’s hand comes up to still Beca’s hand. Beca freezes.

“Do you and um,” Chloe hesitates. It’s the first time, really, that Beca has seen Choe somewhat flustered or nervous. Chloe seems to steel herself. “Do you and that uh, Jesse kid have like...a thing going on?”

It’s clear that this has been bothering Chloe to some extent, if the furrow in her brow and the questioning tilt in her eyes are anything to go by. If Beca weren’t mulling over how cute Chloe looked right then, she’d have burst out laughing right away. That being said, her laugh comes out short and delayed and entirely too awkward for her to really save anything about the situation.

Chloe is evidently taken aback and she leans back in the booth and crosses her arms, their homework forgotten. “I’m serious,” Chloe says, verging very close to a pout.

“I’m serious too,” Beca says, still laughing. “Where the fuck did you get that from?”

“I don’t know, you guys just seem…” Chloe bites her lip, looking more attractive than she has any right to be. “Close.”

“That’s what you get when a guy like Jesse forces his way into your life and somehow sticks around for three and a half years.”

“Is that what I did?” Chloe asks, her tone decidedly different from just a few moments ago. “Force my way into your life.”

"No," Beca says immediately. 

It's something closer to fate. Maybe destiny.

But it's not like those things are real anyway, so Beca can't really do much than meet Chloe's questioning gaze head-on.

  — — x — —

 Chloe just checking that we’re ok Bec?

A part of Beca threatens to burst—like she could really just spill everything she’s been feeling to Chloe right then and there. Her fingers long to type out an excessively long message, just to get her point across and just to expunge all of the emotions she currently feels.

Like the emotions dangerously resembling a dumb, gross crush on Chloe Beale.

She's sure Chloe knows by now. Chloe is the kind of girl who knows these things, likely from experience. Even more likely that she just has a better grasp on other people's emotions compared to Beca's own emotional bandwidth.

Beca Yeah, we’re ok

 "God, she definitely knows," Beca mumbles.

Chloe and you’re still coming for dinner w/ my parents?

There it is.

Beca swallows, having momentarily forgotten about it. She isn’t sure why the nerves seem to bubble up in her more than they normally would.

Beca Yeah

It isn’t like Chloe is her girlfriend and she’s meeting her parents for the first time. Just her tutoring subject. Beca is a tutor first and foremost.

Nothing wrong with that.

She’ll just make sure to maintain some distance between now and then.

  — — x — —

 So it turns out that distance is good, but Beca hadn’t thought about how distance would be completely eviscerated considering she is quite literally at Chloe’s parents’ house. Distance should be good. Or it would be if Beca weren’t such a chump and ringing the doorbell to Chloe’s massive house. Her father’s massive house.

Beca always thought her own father had a big house, but she supposes when Chloe’s father is a doctor-doctor, there’s a little bit more money than an English professor. Like a literal real doctor who has probably saved lives. That’s more than Beca can say about her father and his books.

She’s never going to give her father trouble for the size of his house again.

Chloe greets her at the door with a relieved expression. “I’m glad you came!” Chloe exclaims. She reaches out for Beca’s hand and laces their fingers together. The shock of holding Chloe’s hand makes Beca’s reply come in a lame, delayed fashion.

“You were the one who invited me,” Beca says quickly. “Of course I was going to come.”

“I know you were thinking of standing me up,” Chloe singsongs, still holding on to Beca’s hand as she drags her through a massive foyer and into the kitchen.

Beca can’t really say anything to that because it’s kind of true. She had been thinking about that, even though each instance of that thought sent sweeping guilt through her chest.

Chloe’s hand is soft and warm, unlike Beca’s cold, clammy hand. It feels nice. That’s kind of true, too.

“I’m glad you came,” Chloe repeats, more sincere than she had been at the door, not that Beca thought that was even possible. “I just...my dad’s been a lot recently. The lab is kind of struggling with funding so...yay,” she drawls. “And um,” Chloe’s eyebrows draw together. “Nothing, nevermind.”

Beca, knowing only vague things about Chloe’s father’s business, shrugs. “I’m sure it’s...it’s not as bad as you think and there isn’t anything to worry about.” She nudges Chloe. “And you’re set to take over eventually, aren’t you?”

Chloe’s expression shifts marginally before she composes herself and she shrugs. “I guess so, it’s just—” Chloe cuts herself off and sighs, shaking her head. “It’s nothing.”

Before Beca can inquire more into that, soft footsteps sound behind her. “Oh,” a woman’s voice sounds from behind them. “I didn’t realize we had a guest.”

Chloe sighs and turns to face who Beca assumes to be her mother. “Mom, I told you I was inviting Beca over for dinner because dad wanted to meet her.”

Her mother smiles faintly. “That’s nice, dear. Nice to meet you, Becky.” She reaches for a wine glass from the cupboard. “I hope you like steak.”

“I do,” Beca says as pleasantly as she can, not bothering to correct her.

“Chloe, if you can, dear, please run and buy a couple bottles of red before dinner. We’re running low. You’ll indulge, won’t you, Becky?”

Before Beca can fully nod or respond, Chloe’s hand comes to grip her wrist again. Beca clamps her mouth shut and instead watches on silently as Chloe’s mother shuffles away again, humming to herself.

A million questions run through Beca’s mind. She had been under the assumption that Chloe’s mother was a researcher of some kind—another powerful figure in the medical field. It was essentially a well-known fact that Chloe had been born into all kinds of privilege, intelligence and money being only two of them.

It seemed that a stable family life was not on the table.

“Are you okay?” Beca asks instead of the million other questions she wants to ask. It comes out softer than she intends. More delicate.

Chloe nods, but otherwise doesn’t respond before turning to face Beca again.

“It’s just hard being twenty-five and all of…” she gestures vaguely around the kitchen. “This.”

“Are we going to go to the store?” Beca asks hesitantly.

Chloe bites her lip. “You think I shouldn’t,” she assesses. Correctly, too.

“Chloe, it’s—” none of my business “—up to you. I’ll just do whatever you want me to do.”

The more serious conversation that needs to be had likely doesn’t involve Beca at all, if Chloe’s mother has an alcoholism problem. She feels badly enough that Chloe has to go through this on top of likely being embarrassed that Beca saw anything at all.

“Is it weird that I kind of wish we were studying right now instead of this?” Chloe asks, sounding more cheerful than the expression on her face belies.

It isn’t weird at all, Beca thinks. “Show me your room,” Beca suggests instead of the thousands of more appropriate things she could possibly say at that moment.

It seems to do the trick however because Chloe smiles.

  — — x — —

 “How is tutoring going, Beca?”

Beca struggles to swallow the huge gulp of water she had just taken while maintaining eye contact with Chloe’s intimidating father. “It’s…” she clears her throat. “It’s going well.”

“And Chloe isn’t giving you any trouble?’

Beca glances at Chloe who has gone rather still. “No, she’s been a model student.”

To Beca’s surprise, he scoffs. Chloe continues to say nothing, but begins to push her food around her plate. “Can you believe that she’s been in school for seven years and she still doesn’t have a degree to show for it? And to think that she graduated high school early. All that potential...”

It’s the beginning of a rant if Beca’s ever heard one. Beca blinks back the sudden sharp sting she feels behind her eyes, the hurt she suddenly feels on Chloe’s behalf. “That really doesn’t mean anything,” she says before she can stop herself. She glances at Chloe’s mother who has not said a word. She merely swirls her wine glass and gazes despondently at her own plate.

Dr. Beale’s gaze cuts to her and she quickly looks back down, feeling chastised. “Your father is a professor, is he not?”

“Yes,” Beca says to her plate.

“He worked hard to get to where he is, didn’t he?”

“I’m sure he did, but—”

“And I guess he doesn’t want you wasting your time. He doesn’t want you wasting your life. You’re set to graduate aren’t you?”

“Uh, I—”

“Wish I could say the same for Chloe here,” he says lightly like he’s sharing a splendid joke. Beca clenches her fist in her lap.

Chloe sighs loudly.

“You know, Chloe,” Chloe’s father says, swirling his glass. Whiskey, probably, Beca notes. “If you tried a little more, maybe you wouldn’t be such a fucking disappointment.”

Beca startles at that, not expecting such harsh words in such a calm tone. She looks up hesitantly, eyes flicking back and forth between Chloe and her father. It almost feels like she had imagined the moment because Chloe continues to move food around on her plate and her father continues to hold his gaze intently on the side of his daughter’s head, arched eyebrow and a precariously-held glass of amber liquid to the side.

It’s surreal to say the least. Beca would have never imagined this moment happening.

“It’s literally just two classes, Chloe,” her father continues. “Two classes and you can stop sucking money out of us like a damn leech and actually do something worthwhile with your life. You already have a damn job ready for you, but you refuse to step up to just take it.”

It’s hard to imagine that these words are coming from the mouth of the man who had been such a generous giver to their school—the same that many students aspired to be. Atlanta, while not small or tucked away by any measure, was still no New York or Los Angeles. Yet thousands of students still flocked to their school and city for this very reason. This man, berating his daughter in full view of his daughter’s tutor.

Beca swallows.

Beca tries not to think about Chloe’s bright smile, helping children through dance steps at the studio.

She tries not to think about it because this isn’t any of her business. She tries not to think about it because she’s just a tutor.

A friend, maybe. A tutor, definitely.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe says quietly, a far cry from every version of Chloe Beale that Beca has been privy to thus far.

Chloe’s mother sniffs at her glass—white wine—and sighs before taking a long drink.

Beca isn’t supposed to be privy to this at all, she’s sure of it. She isn’t supposed to feel so fiercely protective over a student she’s meant to take money from so she can finally get out of this town. So she can finally move to New York. So she can finally make music which people care about.

She isn’t meant to care about what Chloe thinks of her music—isn’t meant to feel guilty for taking money for a job she does well.

This is all temporary.

  — — x — —

 When Chloe texts her to meet her at the diner, Beca heaves a breath. She thought Chloe was hellbent on ignoring her after that episode at Chloe’s house—horribly awkward and horribly tense. Chloe hadn’t spoken to her the rest of the time in her bedroom while they worked through a calculus assignment...except when she had quietly asked Beca if she wanted to have sex.

Beca had politely declined, not really feeling like taking advantage of Chloe in her state, but Chloe’s lackluster response, her quiet acquiescence, had been enough for Beca to quickly pack her things up.

Before she left, she hovered awkwardly by Chloe’s shoulder and felt like she ought to kiss her on the head or hug her.

Instead of doing either of those things, she had squeezed Chloe’s shoulder and half-heartedly murmured a goodbye with the promise to text her to set up another session.

And it ended up being Chloe who texted first anyway.

Now, sitting in front of Chloe, Beca realizes that she had missed her over the past few days. The past few days of not seeing Chloe’s infuriatingly innocent smile (a smile usually paired with something suggestive—suggestive enough to make Beca balk and completely fumble with her pen) had taken more of a toll on Beca than she expected.

It was because she was invested in Chloe as her student. Her tutor-subject-person. That was it.

“Hi,” Beca greets when Chloe takes out a novel and her notebook. “Are we...what are we doing today?”

“I thought we could just have breakfast for dinner,” Chloe says simply. “Then you can pretend like you enjoy tutoring me.”

It’s said so lightly and casually that Beca almost doesn’t catch it. “Hey,” she says finally. “That’s not true. I don’t pretend like I enjoy doing anything.”

Chloe relaxes and giggles. “Sorry, I just…” she sighs and shrugs off her leather jacket. Beca tries not to look at her bare shoulders. “It’s been a lot. With...you know. Especially around this time of year.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Beca says.

And with that, they don’t speak, at least for a little while. Beca orders a burger and coke because it amuses her to see Chloe’s furrowed brow when she chastises Beca for not ordering breakfast as per ‘tradition’ at the diner. Chloe orders a stack of pancakes bigger than her head.

It is not until Chloe is halfway through the pancakes and Beca is halfway through looking at Chloe’s recent homework assignment that Chloe speaks again.

“I had an older brother,” Chloe says quietly.

It is absolutely not what Beca expected to hear. The word choice isn’t lost on Beca. She slowly puts down her pencil and watches Chloe from across the booth.

“Okay,” she murmurs, gently as to not scare Chloe off.

“I...his name was James, but I called him Jamie. I guess most people did, except dad. And mom when she was mad at him.” A thought seems to bring a smile to Chloe’s face. A fond memory, Beca hopes.

A part of her wants to reach out to hold Chloe’s hand, but the more rational part tells her that Chloe would more than likely shut down if she did that. She sits on her hands to resist the temptation.

“I...we were close,” Chloe continues before clearing her throat. “I don’t know, I guess he kind of accepted that he would always work for dad’s clinic. He was in his second year of med school when he…” Chloe hums, looking thoroughly embarrassed at her own tears and hastily averts eye contact with Beca. “It was an accident. I was almost done with my last year here. I’ve felt stuck this whole time.”

What did you want to do? Beca longs to ask, she doesn’t get the chance. The words die in her throat when Chloe looks back up at her.

“I don’t want to work for my father,” Chloe murmurs. “He’s not the best person but I know he’s still family. I just...I can’t do it. I can’t see myself giving up my life like that. But not doing what Jamie was working towards feels like cheating his memory a little. Even though I know he wouldn’t have wanted that for me either.” Chloe laughs hollowly. “With how many extra years I’ve taken on here, I could have two degrees. But I just don’t…” Her voice cracks. “I don’t know how to leave.”

“I’m sorry,” Beca says when she realizes Chloe is spent. “I...don’t know what to say. I didn’t know about your brother. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t really talk about it,” Chloe admits. “Aubrey knew because we were best friends when it happened, then she graduated and I guess I just...didn’t. It’s been a few years, but I still think about it. I guess I can’t forget about things as easily as my parents can.”

“I’m sure they didn’t forget about him,” Beca tries to say, but her voice feels weak and unused.

“Well, they’re doing a good job of making it seem that way.” She smiles wryly. “Didn’t see any family photos in my house, did you?”

Beca shakes her head, mouth too dry to speak. She wants to do nothing more than to slide into the seat next to Chloe and hold her—to at least sap some hurt away for the time being even if temporary solutions are barely sufficient for something like this.

Beca conceptually understands that people deal with grief differently, but the cold air in the Beale house had been unmistakable and immediately-apparent. She doesn’t say as much however because Chloe is right and nothing more needs to be said.

“Chloe,” Beca murmurs instead. She has no words, not really. It’s clear that Chloe is hurting—or had been at least. This impromptu study session in the dingy 24-hour diner just off-campus isn’t quite turning out how Beca initially expected.

Chloe shrugs. “I don’t...expect you to say anything. I know I’ve been kind of sucky the past few weeks and...I didn’t want you to think that it was…” Chloe licks her lips nervously, finally meeting Beca’s eyes. “Well...nothing that you did.”

Beca smiles at Chloe’s attempt to comfort her when it definitely ought to be the other way around. How are you real? She thinks to herself in wonder. “Want to know a secret?” Chloe nods, a curious look finding its way across her face. “I totally know you’ve been faking it, you know.” At Chloe’s incredibly confused expression, Beca fumbles with her napkin. “Not—not like that. I know you’re uh. Not. Faking that.”

“All those smarts and you can’t even say sex.”

“I meant,” Beca continues, pushing through the hot flush that burns across her cheeks. “That I know you’re faking this whole...not knowing calculus thing.”

Chloe smirks. “What gave it away?” she asks, the air between them losing some of the heavy feeling and tension.

Beca relaxes. Grades and homework, she knows more about. How to deal with Chloe flirting with her? Not so much. “Just...the blatantly wrong way you go about writing out some proofs. It really takes somebody who knows what’s going on to get every step wrong. Or, you know, getting all the steps right but getting the final answer wrong.”

Chloe casually leans up to flick some hair out of her eyes, taking the opportunity to swipe at her own eyes as discreetly as possible. Beca pretends not to notice and looks intently into her glass of Coke as the moment passes.

“Okay, fine,” Chloe concedes. Beca glances up to see that Chloe looks entirely too pleased with herself. “But the sex is still good, right?”

  — — x — —

 Yes, the sex is still good, Beca thinks. If thoughts could breathless, that’s exactly what’s happening in Beca’s mind as Chloe’s tongue does sinful things between her legs.

If somebody were to tell Beca when she entered college that she would thoroughly enjoy having a girl’s tongue between her legs, flicking incessantly at her aching clit, she would have run away screaming. Or at least blushed furiously to the point of passing out.

Now, she still feels on the verge of passing out, but for entirely different reasons. Better reasons. Now, she can’t imagine doing anything but tightening her grip in Chloe’s hair and keeping a steady enough hold so that Chloe can’t stop.

Not that it seems like Chloe has any plans on stopping. Her hands grip Beca’s hips with near-bruising force as she presses Beca’s hips down into the mattress.

“So good,” Beca chokes out, trying to loosen some of the pressure in her chest. Another moan escapes her and as if the sound pleases Chloe, she hums, circling Beca’s clit once with a precise tongue before latching on with her lips and sucking.

Beca cries out, arching her back against the pressure and comes hard against Chloe’s lips, tongue—her wonderful, wonderful mouth.

When she regains some semblance of sanity, she opens her eyes to Chloe smiling at her, glistening chin and all.

“You’re so good at that,” Beca murmurs lazily. “I want to be good at that for you,” she says before she can stop herself. Words keep slipping out of her mouth at an alarming frequency these days.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll teach you,” Chloe promises. “Later,” she murmurs, leaning down to capture Beca’s mouth in a lazy kiss. Her hand skates down the flat planes of Beca’s stomach, taking its time.

Later, Beca thinks when Chloe pushes two fingers into her. Later sounds perfect.

  — — x — —

 Somewhere down the line, Beca realizes the devastating truth that Chloe might actually be one of her closest friends. Jesse’s still there, sure, but everybody’s gearing up to leave. Beca wants to go to New York. Jesse wants to go to Los Angeles.

Everybody leaves eventually.

But somehow time feels like it doesn’t quite exist when she’s lying in her cramped bed with Chloe by her side, calculus all but forgotten.

“My mom died when I was a kid,” Beca murmurs, leaning up on her elbow so she can see the invisible figures she’s tracing on Chloe’s back.

Chloe’s eye cracks open, visible just barely beneath a mess of tangled, red curls. She sucks in a breath, but says nothing more, so Beca continues.

“I don’t really remember her. I mean, I guess I do. I have these memories of my favorite hugs. A soothing voice. But it never really feels tangible.”

Chloe rolls over slowly, breathing steadily as she continues listening intently. Beca feels nervous suddenly. “I’m not...I guess I was just thinking about what you told me about your brother. And I’m not trying to say I know exactly how you feel, but it’s just...I do get it.”

“You do get it,” Chloe whispers in agreement. Her eyes look softer than usual. “I...thank you for telling me. I’m sorry that you lost your mom.”

“I don’t think we ever really know how to deal with grief,” Beca explains quickly. But it helps having other people to share it with. “But I just thought I’d share that too. Not to, um, take away from your...pain, but just...”

As always, it seems like Chloe fares better with words than Beca does. “We don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to,” Chloe says gently. “But I don’t mind hearing more about her.”

Beca sucks in a breath. Chloe looks incredibly young then. Like all the world’s traumas have lifted from her shoulders in that moment—that moment of her extending her hand to Beca in a show of support. It makes Beca giddy with a kind of childlike delight, but also sweeping pain. As the two emotions war within her, she can do nothing more than to reach out and hold Chloe’s hand—figuratively, but she does reach out to brush an errant strand of hair from Chloe’s face.

“I know talking helps,” Chloe continues when she realizes Beca is yet to speak. “Not letting their memories fade away. I don’t...want that to happen to me. And I don’t want that to happen to you.”

I wish I knew you back then, Beca thinks forlornly. Three years ago. Two years ago. Any time but now, when their time is so limited.

“Okay,” Beca agrees quietly, already slipping into a sleeping state.

You are so much more than you know.

“You make me better,” Chloe murmurs. “I hope you know that.”

  — — x — —

 Jesse Movie night w/ Amy? Benji had to bail

Beca Ugh fine

Jesse Bring your girlfriend

Beca My what?????

Jesse Chloe?

Beca What the fuck, she’s not my gf

Beca Shut up, i can hear your smirk But shes really not, jesse i swear

Beca ok i can literally hear you laughing across the library idiot

  — — x — —

 Fat Amy Bumper told me tell you that jesse told him that you have a gf and you’re not sharing her with the rest of us

Fat Amy Is she that super hot chick you’ve been tutoring and totally-not-at-all sleeping with?

Fat Amy Beca???

  — — x — —

 Maybe they are kind of dating—kind of, sort of dating. Beca’s sure unlabeled things are all the rage these days.

(���All the rage?” Beca asks. “Who says that?”

Chloe scowls at her, somehow making the unpleasant expression more pleasant than it ought to be on anybody’s face. “Shut up, I’m studying.”)

But, the fact of the matter is: They’re not dating. They’re not dating, which is why Beca agrees to go with Chloe to an end-of-semester party. Exams are almost entirely over and Beca’s confident Chloe passed this time around.

The shift between them and in Chloe’s general attitude are stark changes. Beca would have to be blind not to notice.

But the fact is, she isn’t blind. She can’t be, not when Chloe makes her want to pay more attention than ever.

Though sometimes she kind of loses track of Chloe - where Chloe loses herself in her own her head, or loses herself to the masses. It’s hard, crushing on Chloe Beale, only daughter of Doctor Richard Beale, an incredibly intelligent and powerful medical researcher with his own medical research corporation to boot.

It’s hard, knowing all of that weighs on Chloe’s shoulders and Chloe seems to want no part of it.

But tonight, Beca loses Chloe at a literal party, which would be funny if Beca’s own heart weren’t doing that super weird pounding thing.

She’s nervous.

Beca finds Chloe outside of all places. It is odd considering Chloe was the one who asked her to attend the party and then she had essentially hidden herself away.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

Chloe, still leaning against the railing of the balcony, tilts her head back towards Beca. “I’ve been waiting for you to come find me.” She grins. “Gotcha.”

“Oh,” Beca drawls, feeling bold. It’s the alcohol coursing through her veins. It’s the brisk chill. It’s the high she gets from being near her crush. “So you planned this,” she continues, moving so she can stand just behind Chloe. She leans forward, letting her lips ghost the side of Chloe’s neck.

Chloe sighs, a happy little sound with only a tinge of melancholy. Beca draws back immediately, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she murmurs. She drops to sit against the railing opposite Chloe. “I’ll just…”

“Don’t be.” Chloe twists to face her. “It’s really dumb, but I had a big crush on you for like...the entirety of my second senior year.”

Beca freezes. She gazes up at Chloe’s silhouette in the darkness. “You what?”

“I had a crush on you,” Chloe says simply.

“But why? And how?” And you had a crush on me? Past tense?

Chloe sighs. “I don’t know, I guess I had seen you around when you were a freshman, but I knew you better because we had the same Advanced Topics in Philosophy seminar that year. You did not strike me as a philosophy major.”

“I’m not,” Beca replies distractedly. Her brow furrows as she combs through her memory for some kind of enlightening flash of red in her mind’s eye. A memory of sorts.

“I sat like right at the back,” Chloe clarifies.

Beca scoffs. “So did I. I would have remembered you.”

Chloe looks exceptionally pleased at that. “You would have?”

“Obviously, I mean…” Beca gestures at her. She feels nervous suddenly, like the ground is shifting beneath her feet. “Look at you,” she mumbles quickly. “You’re gorgeous. And like...super hot.”

Chloe’s smile dims a little. “Haven’t I heard that before,” she mutters, turning away from Beca.

Beca scrambles from her seat, moving to where Chloe is standing by the railing. She feels numb, suddenly, like she’s missing something crucial. It’s hard to think with the budding headache she feels, the rush from standing up too fast, and the incessant music from the party going on behind them.

She reaches out to touch Chloe’s elbow before she really knows what she’s going to say. Chloe turns her head slightly to face her.

“You’re so pretty,” Beca murmurs, keeping her eyes trained on Chloe’s expression. “But—but—” she quickly reaches up with a trembling hand to cup Chloe’s jaw, the tender movement stunning Chloe into silence as she opens her mouth to protest. “You’re so much more than that. You’re kind and you’re special and I know you’re insanely smart even though you feel like you’re stuck in this…” Beca shrugs. “I would have remembered you.”

She isn’t sure how she gets through all that because her body feels kind of numb afterwards. She doesn’t have much of a chance to say anything more however because Chloe is turning and swiftly pulling her in for a soft, tender kiss. The way her lips brush against Beca’s so gently and slowly, despite the urgency Beca feels in the grip Chloe has on her waist.

“You drive me crazy,” Chloe murmurs, breath hot against her mouth. “You make me feel all these stupid things that I shouldn’t—not now when we’re—”

“Shh,” Beca shushes, pulling Chloe in again for another kiss. She is addicted to this woman, all professionalism be damned. “I just want to be with you.”

Beca has no idea where any of this is coming from, like all the unwritten lyrics she has to the songs that remind her of Chloe Beale. They well up inside her like the best and worst emotions, quickly spilling out into the world; quickly spilling into the minuscule spaces left between her and Chloe’s body.

Chloe whimpers into her mouth at that, immediately ramping up the intensity of her kisses. Tilting her head, her tongue glides delicately over Beca’s lower lip like a gentle request for entry. Beca can’t deny her, not once.

“I saw you once,” Beca murmurs, pushing back against Chloe’s chest slightly. Their breathing, labored, is loud and deafening against the ringing in Beca’s ears. “In my freshman year, at the activities fair.”

Chloe laughs, a sad, hollow laugh, and presses her forehead against Beca’s. “You should have said hello. I feel like you would have somehow made collegiate a cappella fun.”

“I was too intimidated. I’m still intimidated.”

“Don’t be,” Chloe urges, voice low and hoarse. “I...want you so much that it scares me. And I feel like such an idiot for not telling you sooner. I’ve never felt like this about anybody before.”

Beca inhales sharply, struck by the sudden force of Chloe’s words and the emotion behind them.

“Somewhere along the line I—”

Beca knows what Chloe will say. It unlocks a world of possibilities, each more uncalculated than the last. The possibilities, with Chloe, seem endless, but they are unexplored and untested. Unproven.

“Don’t,” Beca chokes out, cutting Chloe off before she can finish. “I can’t, not now.”

Chloe pulls her close, into a hug that Beca immediately sinks into. She sighs, head tucked against the crook of Chloe’s neck, feeling all kinds of warmth for the first time since December started.

“We’ll figure this out in the morning,” Chloe promises, voice thick with emotion.

Right, Beca muses as Chloe’s lips meet hers again. Because we have all the time in the world.

She really believes it.

/end ch. 3

[tealin]

Induction McMurdo

Here's the thing about arriving at McMurdo: It's kind of like diving into your first week at college. You have a series of orientation sessions, a bunch of classes in different buildings with random numbers, and you meet a lot of new people with names and roles that are hard to keep straight, while also being offered a wide range of interesting extracurricular activities and trying to navigate the intranet to find the information you need or missed along the way. On top of this, you have to learn the strict and unusual rules around getting your food and sorting your garbage, and adapt to the unwritten conventions and jargon of the society.

A starter: 155 – The big blue building which contains the Galley as well as a number of useful offices like Lodging, Gear Issue, and Recreation. Noticeboards and the Lost and Found are here too. Essentially the hub of the station. Galley – the cafeteria. To prevent spreading germs, one must always do time at the handwash station before entering the Galley, even if one has just been to the bathroom and thoroughly washed one's hands there. The handwash station is a regular rendezvous point. Crary – the building where most of the scientists have labs and/or offices. It has three sections, or 'phases,' connected by a downward sloping 'spine.' Phase 1, at the top of the slope and nearest 155, has an upper floor with a conference room-cum-library. My desk is in a dark little room just off the library, which has been set up with cubicles. The best views in McMurdo are from the library windows. MacOps – the communications hub, which handles radio traffic amongst other things. When you leave the station you have to check out with MacOps. The SSC – stands for Science Support Center. Lots of classes in the classroom here. Otherwise it's a staging area for science teams heading out into the field. The BFC – stands for Berg Field Center. The warehouse of supplies (tents, sledges, stoves, pee bottles, etc) and where things go to get repaired. Denizens of the BFC are a tribe unto themselves and they have a most atmospheric lair on the upper floor. Helo – pronounced hee-low: a helicopter Snow machine – a snowmobile The 203s – three interconnected dormitories, numbered 203a, 203b, and 203c. I am in 203c. They are two storeys; off a long corridor are about twenty double-occupancy rooms, with a bathroom for men and for women on each floor, and a common area on the ground floor. They are being torn down and replaced in March, so it is a bit surreal to be living there.

Here is what my first three days looked like:

Wednesday 13 November 16.30 – Arrive. Orientation video. Receive dorm assignment and keys.

17.15 – Get onboarded with IT, set up network login and WiFi access

17.30 – Walk up to the transport building to receive luggage and haul it (with vehicle and coordinator assistance) to dorm. Gratefully change out of bunny boots into regular boots and feel 20lbs lighter, possibly literally.

18.30 – Dinner with coordinator. Introductions to many new and exciting people.

19.30 – Science lecture in Crary; tonight's is about the ongoing study of Weddell seal pups and at which stage in development they acquire the skill of hyperoxygenating their tissues for long deep dives. A bespoke seal-sized metabolic chamber has been built for this purpose. The pups in the study are named after favourite candies.

21.00 – Stagger into bed

Thursday 14 November 06.45 – Meet coordinator for breakfast

07.30 – Inbrief at the Chalet (administrative hub) where department leaders and new arrivals introduce themselves and explain what they do.

09.00 – Harassment Awareness training. We had to do anti-harassment training every year at Disney and this 45-minute class was way better – insightful, pragmatic, realistic – than anything we did there. Well done, USAP.

10.00-12.00 – Me time. I think I tried to write up my journal.

12.00 – lunch with coordinator, meeting more new people

13.00-14.00 – more me time. I think I tried to answer some emails. It can take about five minutes to send and receive an email in HTML Gmail, on daytime McMurdo bandwidth, so it takes a while.

14.00 – picked up my communications radio, got briefed on how to operate it and the communications protocols. The comms team have a stuffed husky mascot named Apsley.

15.00 – Visited the Discovery Hut

16.00 – walked uphill against the wind back from Discovery Hut

17.30 – dinner, meet the other Artists & Writers under my coordinator's wing. They have just come back from the Dry Valleys. Ian Van Coller is a photographer; Todd Anderson is a photographer and printmaker. Together they are documenting the disappearing glaciers of the world. See The Last Glacier.

18.00 – History Club

21.00 – Collapse into bed Friday 15 November 06.45 – Breakfast

08.00 – I was supposed to take Core Training – the introductory briefing on ways and means of McMurdo (trash sorting, the water system, the taxi/shuttle system, medical centre, etc) but in light of the parlous state of the sea ice this year, my coordinator wanted to get me on a snowmobile ASAP so I was ushered instead into

09.00 – Snowmobile Theory, i.e. how to start it, how to drive it, how not to tip over going around corners. This was entirely indoors with a specimen snowmobile. The Snowmobile Practical would be a few days later but I had to have theory first, and there was an opening here.

12.00 – rendezvous with coordinator at my desk, then lunch

13.00-16.30 – Antarctic Field Training. This consisted of a series of lectures and videos interspersed with practical demonstrations, designed to familiarise oneself with the contents of one's survival bag, which is taken with you every time you leave base, in case you're waylaid by a blizzard. We learned how to set up and run the Whisperlight stove (similar in theory to a Primus but with the burner and fuel tank as separate entities) and set up the standard issue tent. I learned the extremely clever Trucker's Hitch knot and forgot it about half an hour after class ended. In fact it went much longer than the allotted time because the power kept going out whenever we tried to watch one of the several requisite videos, so eventually Helicopter Training was postponed to 7.30 the following morning.

18.00 – Dinner. Met the new arrivals from today's C-17, a film crew making an episode of the NatGeo-Netflix-Disney series One Strange Rock.* Despite the American commission, they are in fact British, and one of them was cameraman on the show about the restoration of the Cape Evans hut, which has hitherto been my best point of reference for that interior space. Instant friends. Power outages continued. Went to bed during one particularly long one.

Saturdays are work days here, so the schedule didn't let up then. The standard work day is 7.30 - 17.30, a ten-hour day which significantly favours morning people, of whose tribe I am not. One would think that, in 24-hour daylight, circadian rhythms would be more or less malleable, but I never succeeded in going to sleep before 10 or finding it easy to wake up before 7. People complain of a certain befuddlement in Antarctica – constantly losing things, inability to concentrate, loss of vocabulary – and they call it McMurdo Brain, but my experience of working 60-hour weeks at Disney makes me think it’s probably chronic low-grade exhaustion. When I stole time for a nap or was allowed to sleep in, I felt noticeably sharper.

This particular Saturday, after the makeup Helicopter class, was entirely given over to Sea Ice Training. That was such a full and interesting day that I will give it a post all of its own next week.

[fiercyy]

Chapters: 10/? Fandom: Naruto Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura & Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura & Hatake Kakashi, Team 7 - Relationship, Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura & Hatake Kakashi & Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto, Hatake Kakashi, Tsunade (Naruto), Orochimaru (Naruto) Additional Tags: AU, Post-Chuunin Exams, post chuunin exams attack, Minor Character Death, Trauma, Team 7 Family bonding, Genin Era, Everybody moves in with Sasuke, he's got room, semi-au, Plot Twists, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Roommates, Friends to Enemies, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, BAMF Haruno Sakura, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 (Naruto) Feels, BAMF Dai-nana-han | Team 7 (Naruto), Team as Family, Slow Burn Series: Part 1 of Post-Chuunin Exam AU Summary:

Sakura always wished she could relate to her teammates better. She wishes she could take it back.

In which Sasuke acquires some unwanted roommates and a team becomes a family.

.

.

Sasuke hasn't needed an alarm clock to wake him up in weeks. Every night he falls asleep to Naruto's soft snores and the anxieties of his day as told by the voice in his head. When sleep finally drags him under, ankles first, he has the same dream.

He's in the Forest of Death, but instead of the canopy of trees, the trunks just stretch up and up into darkness. He is completely alone. He walks at a leisurely pace for a while; the scenery doesn't change. Eventually, he looks down, only to realize that ahead of him are a set of footprints. He glances behind him and finds that he has left his own track of prints, they curve behind him and into the trees. He realizes that the set in front of him are his own. He's been going in circles.

Beneath him, the earth splits. He hovers above the chasm. The chasm blinks. A golden snake eye glares up at him. A hissing noise rises like the roar of a river.

"Sasuke," Sakura whispers in his ear, but when he turns, she's 50 feet away and her fist touches the ground. She is the source of the chasm.

"Try to keep up, bastard," says Naruto, only he is right by his side. "Or we'll leave you behind."

Suddenly, Sasuke is falling into the eye. Naruto grabs his hand and stops him from falling. "Naruto," Sasuke orders, "pull me up, quick!"

"You can do it yourself, can't you?" He wrenches his hand away and Sasuke is falling falling falling again into the eye. Consumed.

Relying on them is foolish. They will leave you. A voice hisses from all around him. He's still falling. You can't trust anyone but yourself. They're not worth your time anyway. You've tried to pull them up to your level. But at what cost? They've dragged you down to theirs. You're better than this Sasuke Uchiha. I can offer you-

And it is often here, that he startles himself awake. But today. Today the nightmare continues.

He stops falling. Heart in his throat, he floats in the inky blackness of the snake eye pupil. I can offer you power. You languish in this village, thwarting your true potential. Look at what Uzumaki Naruto has achieved with the help of a sannin. he is weak but he almost beat you. Why? And Sakura Haruno. Pathetic, sobbing Sakura Haruno. She will learn to bring men back from the dead. What can you do? You need me. Come to me. I will give you power the likes of which you've never-

"Sasuke!"

He gasps and emerges from the nightmare. His heart races under the fist he's clutched to his chest. His neck burns. Sakura stands over him, hands on his shoulders. He slaps them away.

"What!?" he demands.

Sakura deftly takes a step back, like dodging a fist. "Fine. I'll train on my own today…" her tone is sullen until she takes a good look at him. "Are you sick?" Approaching with the slow unstartling gait of a snake charmer she lays a hand on his sweaty forehead. "Oh no, I'm sorry. I should have let you sleep."

"…It's fine."

"I'll pick up some soup on my way back from my lesson with Tsunade," she promises. He's glad she hasn't offered to make any herself. Salty, spicy and oily broth might make him feel worse than he already does. Then again, the longer he's in her presence the worse he feels—the more he thinks about the voice from his dreams.

He nods, tense and shivering and goose-pimpled like he's just come out of a freezing lake.

Sakura shoots him one last look from the doorway, hesitant to leave.

"Would you go already?!"

Her mouth presses into a firm line and the door snaps closed.

Once she's gone and he's left to fixate, Sasuke spirals lower. He can't be around anyone, but he doesn't want to be alone. He's furious. He's scared. He desperately wants to go back to sleep but knows what's waiting for him if he does.

So Sasuke makes a liar of himself and prepares for some solo training.

.

.

Sasuke is being so weird and Sakura is torn between genuine worry and anger. He could be such a hypocrite sometimes. She slept in once an he left without her. She was kind enough to wake him and he was nothing but cranky! He looked terrible though; red rimmed eyes, gaunt and seeming a little lost.

What a stupid, self-centered jerk! …Who patiently waited for her most mornings and helped her catch up to him and Naruto with extra training…

Sakura quickly grows bored of training by herself, having been ditched by her old friend. Her new friend. Her former crush and former enemy. Sometimes it's hard to keep Sasuke straight. Living with him and dealing with his henpecking ways makes it hard for her heart to pound every time he talks to her. It would become a medical condition. But does that mean she doesn't love him anymore?

She does… she thinks. She's just figuring out how.

With Naruto, it's so easy. He wheedled himself into her heart slowly; with jokes, support and attention. It feels as if they've always been together. He has never once confused her.

After they came to live with Sasuke she didn't have the emotional bandwidth to worry or question the way the boys treated her. There was no room for surprise at the delicacy with which they both handled her. In retrospect It's not shocking at all that Naruto filled her cracks and held her together, but it is surprising that Sasuke did too. He found it somewhere within himself to give her a home, acceptance and empathy. Even though there was no conceivable means for him to have acquired it. Sakura doesn't have her parents anymore, but she does have a family. They must love her very much.

She turns on her heal and stomps away from the training ground toward the market.

.

.

She's early for training with Tsunade, but the Hokage is already there. The training ground is a rocky clearing that peaks just below the treeline. Konoha is in the middle of a draught and the air is dusty. A small stream runs through the middle when it rains; sometimes Tsunade plucks a small fish from it with her bare hands and makes Sakura keep it alive for as long as she can.

"Good morning Shisou."

"Morning Cutie." That tells Sakura that she's in for a rough morning.

It doesn't matter that they're both half an hour early, they get started right away.

"What am I-" Sakura chokes on the sentence because a rock the size of her head is flying right at her. She dodges. "What the hell?!"

"Strength training, block, don't dodge."

"NO!" Sakura shrieks as a rock twice the size of her head flies overhead.

Tsunade picks up a boulder. "They're just going to keep getting bigger!"

.

.

When Sasuke wakes up again, he's cranky. It's why he doesn't often sleep in or nap. He always wakes up worse off than he started. The bitter taste of his tongue travels to his heart and his belly with each aching breath of wakefulness.

He glances at Naruto's bed. Gone, training with Jiraiya. They're set to go on an expedition soon. He says the Sannin's going to teach him a new technique.

Sasuke scowls. They haven't fought in months, not since the Chunin exams, but Naruto bested him when they fought Gaara and that counts. Meanwhile, Sasuke has stagnated. Kakashi's one-on-one training is centered on control and expanding his chakra reserves. It's a long, painstaking process and he isn't getting stronger fast enough. Itachi is so far ahead. By his age, Itachi was already in ANBU. Meanwhile Sasuke couldn't even make Chunin on his first try.

He's never failed at anything before and it hits harder than he cares to admit. The prospect of retaking a test is maddening—the kind of thing reserved for dead last losers in the academy, like Naruto.

"At least we'll get to do it again as a team!" Naruto had proclaimed, sunnily. To him, the greater tragedy would have been one of them passing without the others.

Sasuke would have been perfectly fine leaving them behind. He sees them every day at home anyway.

A creature of habit, Sasuke drifts to the kitchen for breakfast.

On the fridge the magnetic dry erase notepad reads 'check the microwave' in Sakura's handwriting.

In the microwave is a takeout container of chicken broth.

.

.

That night, Naruto, Sasuke and Sakura fall asleep under the chunky red blanket on the couch in front of the TV.

In the morning, Sasuke wakes up first and waits a few minutes before jiggling his shoulder free of Naruto's head and shaking Sakura awake. Together they go to morning training as usual.

.

.

Naruto can't help but think that Kakashi's getting a little lax in the sensei department. Team training's been pretty lackadaisical lately (a word he heard Sakura call their training sessions, that he liked the sound of). It's usually just exercises. Or style specific sparring; Taijutsu only, no chakra, kunai only, substitution only etc. He hasn't given them a team building exercise in forever. And while that was Team 7's least favourite kind of exercise, they were really really good at it. Especially lately. With Sasuke being more of a grouch than usual, it'd be nice to be on the same side for once.

"Today we're doing round robin spars," Kakashi tells them, "All out, no holds barred."

"YES!" Naruto screams. Screw being on the same side, he wants to beat Sasuke into the ground at full power.

"Great, you can go first."

"I wanna fight Sasuke!"

"Of course you do," Sakura rolls her eyes and drags her feet on her way you a tree. She settles in the roots and her peevish expression makes him feel a little bad. It's just that… He loves fighting Sasuke, with Sakura he doesn't feel like he can go all out.

"Hm," Sasuke rolls his shoulders. "Let's go then."

.

.

The spar lasts a while. Sasuke is down to his last Chidori. Naruto's crowd of clones has thinned, there's only two left.

He knows that Naruto needs at least one to shape his Rasengan, so all he needs to do it get rid of them both, or keep his eye on the pair that are together. One Naruto holds out his hand to the other, getting ready for the assist. Sasuke won't give them the chance. He makes the safe bet that the one assisting is the clone and charges his last Chidori. He needs much less runway for his attack. He lunges for the pair of Narutos, ready to aim his leg for the clone, and Chidori set on Naruto's gut.

Suddenly, he's flying through the air, hits a tree and crumples to the ground.

What just happened? Naruto… he used the Rasengan without the help of a clone. How did he do that? When did he learn to do that?

Sasuke doesn't get up—not because he's hurt. The attack was only at 20% of its power, otherwise he'd have been killed. He just… can't understand what just happened.

.

.

Naruto hasn't seen Sasuke since the end of their spar yesterday. He stormed off right after and was asleep before Naruto and Sakura came home. In the morning he was gone, but when they arrive at the training grounds for day two of the round robin spars, he's already there.

"You look like you're chomping at a bit," Kakashi remarks when he finally gets there an hour after their meeting time. "Sakura, you wanna take him on when he's like this?"

Sakura quirks an eyebrow and switches her considering gaze between Sasuke and Kakashi. Naruto just knows she's weighing whether or not she's going to be insulted. "Yeah," is all she says.

From her pouch she puts on these sick black leather gloves and cracks her knuckles.

Sasuke's expression doesn't change, but at least he takes a stance. He's taking her seriously.

Naruto isn't really sure what goes on at their extra training sessions. He's had absolutely no desire to join them because honestly? He needs every extra bit of sleep he can get and they take everything so seriously. The one time Sakura made him tag along, they did three hours of Katas. Snooze.

.

.

Sasuke streaks across the field going right for Sakura. There are two approaches to beating Sakura: speed or stamina. He's faster but he can also outlast her. They've been working on building up her stamina and chakra reserves.

With Sakura, he doesn't have to worry that she's going to have any big finishing moves. He's got to watch his back for a sneaky kunai and use his head to figure out what elaborate strategy she'll use on him.

He engages her in a taijutsu bout to test her reflexes and warm up. Maybe he won't finish her off right away. It would be mean and embarrassing for her. They'll play a bit. Just long enough to see what she comes up with. Sakura's a fun sparring partner because it's also a little like playing Go.

Close combat's the way to go, if he loses track of her, she'll take advantage and substitute herself until he makes a mistake. He dodges a punch and blocks a kick with his right arm only to hear a crack.

What?

She sweeps her legs again, determination blazing in her eyes and Sasuke jumps over them, nervous for her to connect again. Pushed by yesterday's wounded pride, he changes his mind. He wants to end this swiftly. He charges his left hand with a Chidori. It's just at 1/5 power, so it won't hurt her too bad.

His range is good, she won't have enough time to get far enough for a dodge. He thrusts his arm out.

Sakura ducks—no, she strikes the ground with her gloved fist. With a spine tingling crunch the ground opens up beneath their feet.

(It's just like his dream.)

He's weightless, falling, his arm still reaching out to strike Sakura. Their eyes hold, all widening in alarm. He sees it all in slow motion, Sakura reaches for him even as he drops into a chasm of her own making-

(How did she do it?)

-She takes his hand, grounding the circuit. Sakura spasms, but holds on. Tears gather in the corners of her eyes and she cries out. Holding on is making it worse, but if she lets go, he'll fall.

"Sakura," he says, gentle and shell-shocked, processing what's happening in sluggish disbelief.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHH!" She shrieks, not in pain but determination. She hauls him up and over the lip of the crevice. He tumbles on top of her. With his head against her stomach he can feel the rhythm of her ragged breaths. Sasuke rolls off of her and pants. He's barely exerted himself but his heart is racing.

Sakura has gotten so strong. He sits up and turns to the side so he can look at her. Her eyes are closed, her hands curled loosely at her sides.

"Uuuh, Kakashi-sensei," Naruto considers from a short distance away, "Who do you think won?"

Sasuke is the only one left standing, but he doesn't feel like it was him.

[lindoig7]

Thursday-Saturday, 20-22 August

Thursday

It was a wild old night, with the wind rocking the caravan and rattling our awning all night.  It rained consistently almost all night and the rocking of the caravan and the pitter-pattering (and occasional hammering) on the roof made our warm comfy bed the very best and snuggliest place to be.  Even when the awning crashed and banged and woke us up, the rain soon invoked the Sandman and we went straight back to sleep again.

We were awake a little earlier than usual, but enjoyed a lazy half-hour or so snoozing before our cuppa and puzzles in bed.  Of course, by 7:30am, the Council workers were out in the rain, mowing the grass across the rampaging creek immediately behind the van.  The whole area is virtually under water so how they avoided getting bogged is a complete mystery to us.  The need to mow the area is just as mysterious because all they were doing was cutting the tops off the grass well away from the paths.  It wasn’t as if the grass was encroaching on the paths or hiding any varmints that might leap out to devour any of the early morning walkers.

We did some supermarket shopping after breakfast, mainly for a few extra things we need to make some tomato relish and peach chilli chutney.  We are getting low on our fancy home-made condiments so decided to make some more.  But as usual, walking past the fridges at Woolworths is a risk.  I spied a few likely-looking seafood bargains so now we need to find room for even more exotic delicacies!

We didn’t have much rain during the day, despite constant heavy black clouds but it was cold, bleak and windy all day and not at all nice outside.  As a consequence, we spent almost all day inside doing odd jobs, more cryptic crosswords, kenkens, sudokus and other pleasurable time-fillers before we fired up the stove and got back into cooking even more wonderful concoctions.

We made a wonderful pasta dish based on the vongoles and prawns we picked up as bargains in the morning – an elaboration on something we have done a couple of times before – vongoles, prawns, bacon, oil, garlic, parsley, smoked paprika, white wine, lemon, salt and pepper – man, what a feast and we never managed to eat it all so I suspect a seafood omelette is in the immediate offing. Even as bloated as we were, the potential for a meal from the leftovers left our mouths watering!

Friday

There was plenty more heavy rain overnight, and wild, wild winds, but we woke to a weak wintry sun and enjoyed a great hot breakfast.  (There seems to be a lot in my blog about food.  Maybe because we eat extraordinarily well and just want to keep experimenting.  We often (sometimes?) start with a recipe, but once the ‘start’ is dispensed with, the creative possibilities are endless and we try to make the most of any variations our imaginations evoke.)

We checked the weather over breakfast, expecting there to be rain everywhere as per the overnight forecast, but found that the Sale forecast looked surprisingly promising.  We had planned another day of cooking, but in light of the forecast, we abandoned (deferred) that and set sail for Sale.  Heather needed more yarn and some better scissors to we stopped at Spotlight on the way through Traralgon and stocked up there.

We wanted to explore the southern part of the Sale Common Wetland.  We had walked around the middle section a week or two ago, but wanted to explore other parts of this very large wetland.  Easier said than done!  We parked near the Swing Bridge (that isn’t like any swing bridge I have seen before – more like an opening or lift bridge) and set off on the soggiest of soggy tracks. We noted that cars – obviously high clearance 4WDs – had used the track, but had bottomed out and some had become bogged.  Multiple wheel-tracks ran in all directions in an attempt to avoid the worst of the deep ruts, but there is no way anything less than an amphibian would have gone through that day.  The track was even a challenge for walkers.  We had to pick our way through deep puddles and quagmires of mud, often abandoning the track for the waterlogged scrub to pass some of the worst sections.  We walked half a kilometre or so but it was becoming increasingly difficult so we returned to the car and set off for other access routes.  Sale was quite sunny, but still quite cool and very windy, but we returned to the walk we had done a week or two earlier and tried to get into the area from the north after our access from the south had been thwarted. We managed to get about 2.5 kilometres, partly along our previous route, before being confronted by water too deep to cross.  We had already traversed a few shallow puddles, but it was just not feasible to go any further without our water-wings!

My diabetes(???) had given me the shakes before we got back to the car so we ate our lunch there and recovered my sugar balance.  We still wanted to explore the northern area so went up to the much more populous and touristy lakes near the town. One of the lakes is Lake Guyatt and we had walked around that last time but the bigger Lake Guthridge was still to be conquered.  We needed to find a toilet and the signs said there was one 5 minutes away in the Botanic Gardens or 15 minutes away where we had just come from.  We opted for the Gardens – alas, NO TOILETS (of course!). Two kilometres later, we had almost circumnavigated the lake when we came upon the toilets advertised to be 15 minutes from our parking spot!  Have I ever mentioned the obvious attempts by all State and local authorities in Gippsland to confuse the public with fake signage?  I have got to the stage where I simply don’t believe any official signs anywhere in the area.

I had thought that it might be nice to circumnavigate the whole wetland area so we tried to do that, only to find that it was virtually impossible.  I reckon it would take a drive of about 250 Km to do it given that we would have had to drive all the way to the coast, then east to find another way north, then all the way back to Sale.  In our explorations, we found another huge contiguous part of the wetland on the other side of the road – presumably unprotected because it is not marked as such on the Council maps even though the main road is the only thing preventing the entire area being a single wetland.  There are at least 2 rivers and 3 bridges linking the water on both sides of the road so it is virtually impossible to separate the RAMSAR area from the apparently unprotected section.

We found an alternative route back to Rosedale, avoiding a trip back into Sale – and thence home in time for a shower before Happy Hour.  Topped up with fuel at Traralgon again on the way but we were still home again by about 5pm.

I had cooked a turmeric and fish meal on Tuesday/Wednesday – a little unusual given that the fish was marinated in the spices overnight, then only lightly cooked, but with additional veges and herbs added after the heat was removed just prior to serving.  Just add rice.  Very tasty and easy as anything to prepare.

Saturday

The Antarctic Blob is exerting its influence very strongly here today.  Lots of wind and rain overnight, some quite heavy, but consistent all night.  And today has been pretty wild too.  The rain had come and gone, but has been a deluge at times with heaps of hail – literally heaps, with it covering everything and piling up against anything blocking its passage.  It was banked up against the shrubbery outside the van for several hours before it finally melted – 6 degrees maximum here so it was very slow to melt.

It has felt really exciting at times in the van with so much wild weather outside and us safe and warm inside and enjoying the experience.  We cooked our tomato relish in the morning and our peach and chile chutney in the afternoon. We had to do a quick supermarket run to buy some extra spices early in the afternoon and I dropped Heather off and drove around the block a couple of times and picked her up at the door again. This was to avoid her getting too wet in the rain, but the hail absolutely pelted down while I was driving around the block – the racket inside the car was horrendous – exciting, but a little scary too.

We had a fairly unsatisfactory Zoom session in the afternoon – the bandwidth here is a real problem, but at least we spent half an hour or so in contact with some of the kids.

[thedeviltohisangel]

How The Night Changes//3//Out Of My Head

 Duncan and Olivia go public.

Smut warning

For the other parts go to my URL /writing, drop any future wishes for these two in my ask box or DMs!

Olivia watched from the sidelines of the briefing room as her mother deftly avoided almost every single question that was sent her way in the manner only she knew how. She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes knowing that at least a few cameras were glancing at her every once in awhile.

Once her mother had had enough of the press pool, she allowed her secretary to retake the podium and joined her daughter as they exited the room.

“I would like you to take on some new tasks, Olivia.”

“I have enough on my plate with my new dance company. I don’t know how much more my bandwidth can stretch.” Her mother stopped walking so the entourage around them stopped as well.

“A moment with my daughter please.” The crowd dispersed save for the one agent that simply moved a couple steps away. “You are not allowed to criticize me, Olivia. I need you to take on the traditional roles of the First Lady. I cannot be both and you are the only person I trust.” She allowed to eyes to roll now.

“You are not my ruler, mother.”

“I am your president and I am your mother.”

“In that order?” Olivia questioned with a smirk. “You want me to pick china and visit schools, fine. But just know the owed favors are stacking up.” Clare smiled at her daughter with a knowing a glint to her eyes. She had no one to blame but herself for the cutting tone her daughter’s voice could take. As much as Olivia would hate to ever admit it, she had been made in her mother’s image. She was as much a part of the Underwood rise to power as Francis had been. Even if Olivia wasn’t an Underwood.

The next day, Olivia found herself at Fort McNair to reveal a plaque dedicating a library to her father. She held her smile and handshake firmly for as long as it took for the cameras to stop flashing. The press had seemed thrilled to find that she was going to have a more public persona as First Daughter and Olivia’s newly appointed assistant informed her that morning that chatter about her fashion had caused one of her favorite boutique website to crash leading up to her first official appearance. It was a boost to her confidence as she had stood pacing before the dedication, mumbling her speech over and over again even though there had been no need to memorize it. Olivia was constantly thinking of worst case scenarios and coming up with her contingency plans. Her father had instilled in her that, in case of emergency, save yourself first.

“Heading home, miss?” Henry, her head of security, asked as he shut the car door behind him.

“No.” He didn’t need elaboration on where that meant she wanted to go. Ever since Duncan had gifted her a key a few weeks ago, Olivia had been spending more time at his apartment than her own. He had offered her a drawer, some space in his closet but when he saw just how much stuff she was transitioning over to his place he quickly purchased another dresser and had a contractor over to discuss a closet expansion. Annette had asked him, last time she was over, why he had a collection of Bath & Body Works candles in his linen closet and Duncan had barely stuttered out that he was getting into the Christmas mood early this year. It was getting more and more difficult for them to attend public events separately and after the last charity ball when Duncan threatened a man that if he ever touched Olivia like that again he’d lose his hand, they decided that their domestic bubble would have to burst. He promised he’d devise a perfect way to do it but Olivia had also given the strategy some thought. A lot of thought.

She called his name as she slipped her black leather boots off by the door but he didn’t answer so she assumed he was still at work. With a deep sigh, she made her way into his kitchen intent on finding the bottle of wine they had opened the night before but hadn’t had time to finish because of the way his hand was creeping up her thigh under the table.

A piece of paper on his island caught her attention and she opened it to find his blunt handwriting.

Olivia,

You’ve left before I could wish you luck for today and assure you that you’re going to kick ass today. With any crazy thing your mother decides to throw at you. I promise, my little sweet pea. Just don’t let the new media attention get to your head. I’ll always be here to remind you that you’re not Meghan Markle but you are more than a princess to me. You are my Queen and I your loyal follower.

Forever in love with you,

Your donut

PS May dropped off an entire green bean casserole for you in case things didn’t go well today and you need comfort before I am home.

Olivia wiped the tear that was gently tracing it’s way down her face at his kind words. She doesn’t know why she was lucky enough to have the boy who kissed her behind a tree in South Carolina when they were eight grow up into a man who made her wildest dreams come true. The boy who she had a crush on grew up to be the man she loved and loved her back.

She brought the bottle and a bowl of casserole sinfulness into the bathroom with her, undressing and applying a watermelon scented mask to her face before dipping into Duncan’s underused tub.

Duncan walked through the door to his apartment, the SUV parked across the street from his building alerting him to her presence even before the ankle boots discarded by the door did. He draped his suit jacket over the tall chairs sitting at his breakfast bar, letting his AP watch drop to the counter as he made his way to the only door with light slipping from underneath.

“Hi, Donut,” she murmured as her eyes stayed closed, showing no signs of removing herself from the tub of relaxation and self-care she had nestled herself in.

“Something happen today that didn’t make the news?” He had been following her day as closely as he could from his office, watching her speech as she gave it, reading up on articles after the fact. “You sounded wonderful and intelligent. Everyone from the Times to fashion blogs were praising you.” She turned just her head in order to look at him.

“I felt like a little puppet. Selena wouldn’t let me write my own speech. Jennifer burnt me trying to steam my shirt while I was wearing it and didn’t even bother to apologize. Colonel Maysel said it was a let down the President wasn’t there. I sounded perfect, Duncan, but I felt like a sheep in wolf’s clothing.” She looked away from him again. Olivia wasn’t sure if she would ever feel comfortable being vulnerable in front of him but she was trying. He loved her and it was daunting to feel less than perfect when he was constantly looking at her like she was.

“First, let me help you wipe that pink stuff of your face so I can kiss you properly.” Duncan was methodical in everything he did and the first step into making her feel better, in his mind, was to remind her that he loved her. He pulled a washcloth from the vanity and sat down next to the tub, dipping it into the warm water before gently smoothing it over her skin.

“I’m sorry for dumping on you. No one asked me how I was today. I haven’t had a chance to talk about it until you got home.” His heart fluttered at the notion that his apartment was home to her. That it was a place they inhabited together and was the foundation for the life he hoped they continued to build together.

Once he was satisfied with how much of her face mask he had gotten off, his lips pecked hers quickly at first before she leaned over the edge further in order to urge him closer to her. When Duncan felt the need to come up for air from kissing her, he held her forehead against his and kept their eyes locked.

“You are in the innermost circle of the most powerful person in the world. You have power, Olivia, and yes today maybe didn’t go the way you were hoping but the potential is there. Don’t let anyone sideline you. Use the platform your father and mother gave you and make everyone regret they ever doubted you. Show everyone around you that your mother isn’t the only Underwood with power.” Her gaze shifted to the wall behind him as the gears started cranking at an inhuman speed inside of her head.

“My turn,” she whispered. Duncan nodded.

“You’ve done so much to help them, Olivia. Prove you’re so much more than just their asset. You’re the fucking centerpiece.” Her eyes snapped back to his.

“Our turn.” It was the first time she ever saw a look of confusion sweep across his face. “Think about it. My mom, your mom. Your uncle. We’ve both been their assets for our whole lives. I’ve gone above and beyond to get my parents what they have and where has that gotten me? You...You are the most intelligent, driven man I’ve ever met and where is your output going? Into a shared pot that you get almost none of. We’ve hidden in their shadows, willingly, for so long-”

“We reclaim the light,” he breathed, finishing her thought for her.

“We’ve been so nervous of them finding out about us but we take our insecurity and make it our power. We get out there first, we start and steer the narrative. For our benefit.”

“I’ve never been more fucking turned on in my life.” Duncan was strained against his pants, standing up in order to remove them and his shirt before helping Olivia rise from the tub. There was no time to get to the bedroom with the way the blood was thumping in his head, telling him to fulfill his most basic instinct of loving her and claiming her.

She pulled him down on top of her so her back was on the shag rug, helping his briefs down with her feet and not at all surprised when he sprung free already slick and hard.

He moved to kiss her chest and to begin working his way down to the apex of her thighs when she pushed him just far enough for their roles to be reversed, her straddling him.

“I’ll let you worship me all day tomorrow. Now I just want to fuck you.” She sank down onto him as a string of expletives fell out of his mouth among his breathless moans and pants. He knew that eventual the girl that was obsessed with the color blush and tulle and making vanilla extract from scratch would return to him but for now he was going to enjoy his most sacred fantasy he used on nights without her. Her hips moved with him inside of her with an ethereal grace he had only ever known her to possess. His hand twisted into her hair, giving him access to her neck and something to ground himself as his climax started to build.

“Fuck, Olivia. Slow down,” he panted as he involuntarily bucked up to meet her with each pulse.

“Hold on, Duncan. Come with me.” Her hand moved from where it had been cupping his face to her clit and Duncan surprised himself by not finishing right then and there at the sight of her touching herself.

“Dreams do come true,” he whimpered into her neck as her own breaths came quicker and quicker before the two of them were cascading over the edge of ecstasy together. They stayed chest to chest, catching their breath, Duncan pressing feather light kisses over every inch of her face that he could reach.

“You dream about me touching myself?” she whispered into the silence they had surrounded themselves in. He chuckled.

“After than time in Wales, fuck yeah. I feel like a little boy who still has a massive crush on you and can’t help but remind myself you’re really with me sometimes. It was an inopportune time to say something so cringey-”

“You had a crush on me?” she giggled.

“I’ll start tickling you,” he threatened which only served to make her laugh more prolonged. Duncan loved that sound. The sound of her happiness. She had been told for so long that her happiness was secondary to the power and prominence of those around her and he was certain he would never let her feel that way again. “How about we order a bunch of those rolls from the bakery down the street and watch Pretty Woman until we fall asleep?” Olivia nodded excitedly, carbs and Julia Roberts sounding like the perfect night to her.

“And we can plot how we will take back our throne,” she replied dramatically.

“I thought you said my jaw was your sturdy throne?” She merely hummed as she kissed him once more. Tomorrow Olivia was stepping into the light and she was only hoping she didn’t get burned.

The next day when Olivia arrived at a local elementary school to participate in their pretend election in honor of election day, Duncan was with her. Hand in hand they strolled into the school and visited the classroom where kids had written letters to her mother to celebrate her being the first female president.

They hadn’t missed the gaps and whispers at how she had company this time nor did they miss the heightened flashes when he had whispered into her ear causing her to blush and smile. Duncan was acutely aware of the fact that his phone had not stopped vibrating since he had stepped out of the car to the lens of cameras.

Olivia sat at a tiny desk next to a little girl who was coloring a picture of an American flag. “Is that your boyfriend?” the little girl giggled as she pointed her crayon at Duncan who was watching silently from the side. Olivia looked directly into the camera as she spoke, imagining it was her mother.

“Yes, he is. And I love him very much.”

[roosterart-blog]

Not for teacher.

He didn't know exactly how he got here. Well, he did but that didn't make it any less baffling. He stared across at his unusual lunch date and recounted the past few hours.

Mike woke up that morning pretty blah. He was on vacation but all his friends had gone out of town to family. He didn't have anything productive to do and lacked the mental bandwidth to just veg on Netflix. He figured he'd hit the gym early and see where his day took him. He had a productive lift. He didn't hit any PRs but he got a nice pump. He took some pics for instagram and got dressed. It was time for breakfast so he went to a Cafe for some eggs and a coffee. He entered the shop and that's where things went awry.

Mrs. Winter the ice queen. She had been his history teacher in 12th grade. Everyone hated her she was strict to the point of cruelty. She had taken a particular interest in him, making his year a living hell. The real kicker was that at the end of the year she had married Mr. Hann his favorite teacher. Mr. Hann taught math and had opened new doors for him. He owed all of his lifetime math skills to Mr. Hann. To think that rotten bitch was with him was an unthinkable mind fuck.

It took a moment for her to see him but when she did a cruel grinch smile twisted up the corners of her perfectly painted lips. She was impossibly hot, that was for sure. She had a vicious beauty like a comic super villain. She reminded Mike of poison Ivy. Red hair red lips and a body that dropped Jaws. Mr. Hann was more like a Clark Kent. Subtle, demure, a little clumsy, endearing, and built like a truck. He always wore glasses and moccasins a button down and dad jeans. Noone knew how or why they had gotten together.

She got her coffee and walked purposefully over to Mike. She greeted him enthusiastically as if she was unaware of his seething hatred, or didn't care. She asked what he was doing and sneered a little when he told her. Gawd he just wanted to slap her, beat her, and hate fuck her into a coma. As if she could read his mind she said matter of factly, "you want to hurt me." His face must have given away his answer because she said "good, come with me."

Mike felt pulled to follow her. He wanted to walk away and never see her again but some invisible string seemed to be guiding his movement. As they left the coffee shop she said nonchalantly "maybe you can make yourself useful, you really were a poor student." FUCK!

Mike was lost in a fog of rage. He didn't remember getting in her car but here he was outside her house. The house she shared with Mr. Hann. I shouldn't be here he thought. She ushered him inside and before he could stop her kissed him deeply. He pulled away and she slapped him. His head rang as she pulled him back into her kiss. Mike violently grabbed her hair and kissed her back. He took control slamming her against the nearest wall. Her hands were all over his back clawing and pulling at his clothes. He grabbed her wrists, slammed them against the wall, and began biting her neck. She moaned and arched her back, pressing her body into his. He stepped back and spun her around. He pressed her face into the wall as he found the zipper on her dress. He unzipped it and pulled it over her head leaving her in a black lace bra and green lace panties. She kicked off her heels and he spanked her hard on her round bottom. She hopped up wrapping her legs around his waist and pointed towards the bedroom upstairs. Mike stumbled his way up and when he arrived threw her onto the bed. He took off his Tshirt, popped off his loafers, and shimmied out of his shorts. He stood there in his bikini briefs and watched her admire his athletic body. In that moment he remembered Mr. Hann. "Fuck I shouldn't be doing this" he said aloud. Mike closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. That's when he felt her hand.

She practically pushed him over onto the carpeted floor. She made eye contact with him, her wicked smile never leaving her lips. She rubbed him through the material of his drawers. He didn't remember ever being so hard in his life. He felt like a water balloon that was ready to burst. Just as he thought he might cum pain flooded. She squeezed his balls so hard he lost his breath. Before he could shout in pain she locked his mouth with hers. She pulled down his underwear and shifted her panties aside and amidst his pain Mike felt himself enter her. She began to ride him. Shifting up and then violently slamming down on his pelvis. His abs ached as he tried to find his breath. It was then that Mike heard the door. "Get off me" he whispered. "I think your husband is home" but that didn't stop her, in fact she picked up pace. He could feel his barriers fall and the knowledge he was about to be caught turned Mike on ten fold. He was aware of the footsteps up the stairs, heard them near the door and just as Mr. Hann entered Mike turned her over, pulled out and blew his load all over her stomach.

Mike looked up and saw Mr. Hann staring in surprise. But what was most surprising was what happened next. Mr. Hann began to unbotton his shirt. He dropped his jeans revealing that he was commando. His girthy cock flopped out like it had been held hostage in that denim cage. When Mr. Hann was completely undressed he silently got on all fours. Mike watched Mr. Hann unsure of what was going on. That's when Mrs. winter-Hann got out a paddle. He watched amazed as she spanked Mr. Hann with that paddle. He saw tears rolled down Mr. Hann's face, his smile indicating these were tears of joy. Mrs. Winter pointed for Mike to sit on the bed and watch. He obeyed and continued to watch the debacle in stunned silence. She continued to spank Mr. Hann until a drop of precum fell from his stiff cock onto the carpet. She then went to the dresser and got a large strap on. She dropped a gob of lubricant on Mr. Hann's puckered hole and entered him. She f#cked him senseless yelling profanities at him. Calling him a little bitch and a slut. Mr. Hann said nothing just groaned in pleasure. Mike. Just watched in stunned silence. He could feel his erection returning. She rammed Mr. Hann and clawed at his back till he finally shot a heaping load all over the floor.

Mike watched Mr. Hann panting as Mrs winter pulled the dildo out of his slick ass. He was surprised at how aroused he had become so soon after his last orgasm. Mrs. Winter threw the strap on aside she walked over to the bed and ordered Mike off of it, he abliged. "Fuck him" she said. "Excuse me?" Mike asked confused. "Fuck my husband," "we're not done here.

Mike had definitely fantasized about Mr. Hann before. Usually he was being passionately held by the older larger man. In his head Mr. Hann was a masculine giant a father figure. That image did not match up with the silent submissive man he'd just seen fucked to orgasm.

Mike had had fantasies about Mrs. Winter as well. Usually more along the lines of stashing her in a trunk and burying her alive. To think he'd just fucked her and was about to top Mr. Hann at her behest. Never in a million years could he have anticipated this.

Mike looked over at Mr. Hann who was busy eating his own cum off the floor. Their eyes met and Mr. Hann's eyes seemed to beg for it. Mike walked over to Mr. Hann and grabbed his chin. He kept eye contact as he slid his half hard cock between his old teachers lips. Mike slid his fingers into Mr. Hann's short brown hair and began to rock in and out of his mouth. Mr. Hann played his tongue over Mike's shaft and Mike felt his erection increase. He kept like this until he was around half way to finishing. Mike pulled his cock out of Mr. Haan hungry lips and circled to his raised ass. He looked over to Mrs winter who was watching the whole encounter, touching herself and masturbating. She rubbed her smooth pussy, circling and teasing her moist clit. She urged him to go on, to fuck her mountain of a husband.

Mike lined up his head with Mr. Hann's moist asshole. He had never in his life been so simultaneously uncomfortable and aroused. He was about to push in when he changed his mind. He moved his cock away and bent over to eat Mr. Hann's ass. Mr. Hann was not expecting this and for the first time that afternoon he made an audible sound of pleasure. Mike forced his tongue into the hole eliciting more sighs and moans. He reached around and began stroking Mr. Hann's impressive cock. He kept this up until Mr. Hann's moans seemed to reach a fever pitch. When he thought his teacher might cum he stopped all stimulation. It was then that he rammed his rod into Mr. Hann's muscular ass. Mike felt the warmth slide along his shaft. The muscular walls tightened and released. He could hear Mr. Hann's breathing and knew he was close to finishing. He slid in and out of his sheath slowly, feeling the friction with each movement. Mike continued at this pace till he felt Mr. Hann shudder. He knew he was about to cum and so he began ramming him with short forceful thrusts. Mike felt his own orgasm build up he cam to fruition just as Mr. Hann did. Mike leaned over and held the much larger man. Mr. Hann bucked and shuddered shooting rivulets of discharge on the already soiled floor. The force of his orgasm threw Mike over the edge too. Mike pumped his milk deep into Mr. Hann's guts. Mrs. Winter watched still pleasuring herself. Mike pulled out, reached out his hand and caught the dribble of cum from Mr. Hann's ass. He fed the handful of warm seed to the submissive giant. Mr. Hann hungrily lapped it up then proceeded to clean his own mess off the floor again.

Mrs. Winter-Hann beckoned the now exhausted Mike over to the bed. She handed him a vibrator "my turn you little fuck Boi." "It does appear you can do something right." Mike began circling her nipples and clit with the vibrator. Alternating areas in response to her moans. He brought her right up to the edge of release then stopped all stimulation. She looked at him shocked. She moved to finish herself off but he grabbed her wrists and held her for a few minutes. When it seemed she had lost her arousal completely Mike began stimulation again. She bucked and moaned and begged him for release but again he stopped and held her. Mike continued this a 3rd, 4th, and 5th time. Mrs. Winter was crying, "please, give it to me!" after the 6th time he walked away from the bed. "do. It yourself you old whore," he told her.

Mike went over to Mr. Hann and reached out his hand and said "get up, get dressed, let's grab some lunch." Mr. Hann looked questioningly at Mike. "you little bitch, " Mike added. Mr. Hann smiled and abliged. They got dressed and left the house to the sounds of the snow queens crippling orgasm.

[counterspin]

Autistic Burnout: a Year Later

In November of last year I came out of a six month period of acute autistic regression caused by burnout. For six months I couldn't talk about anything of substance, I spent most of my day staring at the wall and wondering if I had eaten. I forgot to eat a lot, eight hours passed as if it were one and I could barely take care of myself. My fears of being nothing more than a human pet, pawing and mewling for food and not being able to regulate everything from hygiene to sleep without help, were realized... but I didn't have the brain 'bandwidth' to even realize it myself.

It took about three months to regain the responsibility of my own breakfast, six months to be able to watch anything past five minutes and talk about something as simple as next week's meal plan. It took nine months to be able to listen to podcasts and re-take over my former duties of cleaning and cooking. Here I am, twelve months later, a whole rotation of the sun, and I can finally watch 20 minute videos (up to 30 on a good day), have hour long conversations about abstract concepts, and make plans for the next week's objectives. A year later and there are things I still cannot do. My memory was taken out back and shot; right now I can't remember anything past a week, to at max a month, events wise and that's major improvement. The most heartbreaking is that I cannot read books. It was a feat at the time when I realized I could read long Tumblr posts, but even now when I look at the first page of a book I really want to read I get immensely overwhelmed and can't make sense of the words, nevermind retain anything. Interestingly, there are new things I can do. I can smell more things, lighter things, than I ever have before. I suppose this is from living at least twenty years almost constantly overstimulated and so my brain muted functions to allow me to live at neurotypical levels. I haven't had a tension headache all year, which really tells me I'm not stressing my body out as much for the same reason. My seizure episodes come on faster but the amount of time spent in Crisis has fallen from like eight hours in a day, possible for many days, to one hour in a day maybe once an entire episode. They also resolve faster. Like a whole one to two weeks faster. That's whole months, whole months I can think and take care of myself that I have gained.

I grieve the thought that I will never be able to think the way that I used to. I've accepted that that person is gone forever. I'm excited about the person I'm becoming: a calmer, maybe less able, but whole person less influenced by my trauma and better equipped for my own maintenance. I wrote this post to date my burnout and regression (I'm real fuzzy on actual dates and will probably never get that back, seeing as how far I regressed), to count my gains and hopes, and share the reality of autistic regression.

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Well, it turns out once you start noticing things… you keep noticing things. And yeah. This time around, between yesterday and today, there are still a few worthy of mention.

First off, special thanks to the bartenders at Atomic Tonic. They don't even wanna be bartenders yet they have it nailed at an insane level of hospitality, personality, and service. They know the business they're in like you wouldn't believe. They know how to build relationship with customers that translates directly to loyalty.

They really are operating at a level well beyond the job they do.

So… what do they wanna be?

A surgeon. And a pathologist.

No joke. These kids are aiming high. And they've got the bandwidth to do it, too.

On a similar note, the entire crew at The Hideaway Bar & Grill. Not a prestige gig, not super high profile. Just a tiny grill tucked away by the side of a swimming pool with master-level customer service, insanely fast turnaround on orders, and the best.

Tasting.

Burgers.

Ever.

It's one of those experiences where you usually get to have maybe one or two of those things but never three. Yet here it was. All three.

Good grief, we passed our praises along to the cook afterward.

Another thing we noticed was that once you make lounging a way of life it's easy to pass on all the tempting activities it seems we should be doing.

Haha. NOPE. We're in recharging mode… not draining our batteries mode.

It's also nice to see families and friends just enjoying themselves. Having good times together even in the most basic of activities.

I don't know what to tell you. Over the last years, with the narrow view on the world available through the web, it's easy to develop and sustain a pretty dim view of "other people". And maybe seeing such a cross section of humanity all having fun at night at the pool… was just.

Nice. 🙂

Kudos to that dad, by the way, who took his tiny daughter off his wife's hands because this little girl was making these high pitched vocalizations. She wasn't in distress. Not in pain or seeming frustration. Just… making these super high pitch sounds.

So he takes her in his arms and heads purposefully in another direction, bouncing her like a pony as he walks until they reach a huge screen displaying sports graphics that he starts pointing at.

And guess what?

His daughter wasn't high pitching anymore.

Well done, sir. Well done.

'Nother thing we noticed is that faced with a packed crowd in a cafeteria… we're both NOPE. Turned around. Headed out the building. Which is how we ended up by the pool with the best.

Burger.

Ever.

Also during our bouts of lounging in our room, we got a super clear look at the Black Widow movie. We actually saw it celebrating Father's Day… but it was such a bright sunny day we really couldn't get it dark in our living room no matter how many sheets and blankets we hung in front of the windows. We were projecting the movie onto our wall, see, so the resulting image was less than ideal.

So finally being able to see it… underscored how funny and intense and tragic the movie is. How amazing. What great all-around filmmaking.

Noticed this morning that even though the girls are grown and well traveled, we still sweat the details, their travel details, anyway.

The reality, of course, is that they've been there, done this, and can always call with questions or do what adults all over the world do when they run into a travel question: Google it.

A different thing we noticed today (although we already knew it's an ability firmly in our wheelhouse) is that we bussed and walk to Universal's City Walk intent on having breakfast at Antojitos Authentic Mexican Food which I thought opened at 8AM with the rest of City Walk.

Unfortunately… no. No it doesn't. The restaurant actually doesn't open 'til four in the afternoon so we just turned the experience into a photo op and went looking elsewhere for breakfast.

It didn't make long 'cause Hard Rock's bar was on Kimmer's mind ever since we tried to stop in there Thursday night when it was packed.

This time, though, around noon, yeah. No problem. Two seats. Right at the bar where we splurged on barbecue wings. Something else we noticed before even on the first night is that a bar down here's literally just the physical bar and the seats perched in front of it. There's no bar area. Just the stools at the bar.

And the tables just a few feet away along the wall?

Those belong to the restaurant.

Always always always.

We talked nut allergies with Lee from the hard Rock. Then because just then it was metal playing from the overhead speakers we talked a touch of metal and he talked about doing mosh pits in his twenties whereas now whenever he and his wife buy tickets to a concert the first thing they look for are seats.

Yeah.

Time definitely changes you.

And then it's Absanthe and "Dreams" playing overhead and on the video with melodic vocals interspersed with very aggressive vocals and then we're talking music with Sean who's still in his twenties and invincible. Then Paramour hits the air and now we're all talking Paramour and how our daughter took early inspiration from that band in her early days of musicianship and songwriting.

Leaving Universal, we're the first and only ones on the bus with the driver, a man born and raised in Florida whilst we were being born and raised in the opposite corner of the country. A genuinely cheerful man, it was fun to compare notes with him as he made sure to make each and everyone boarding his bus feel welcome.

So like I said, once you start noticing things the more you keep noticing things. Or, maybe a better way to put it is that it becomes super easy to give these brief moments with other human beings...

The credit they deserve.

🙂

[sabineelectricheart]

Guest-House [Pt. 4]

Summary: Dimitri awakes to a surprise.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 1755

Notes: So the plot thickens. I hope you like it.

Chirping of birds. People talking while they walk by. The cable car passing on the street below. Dimitri wakes up to those sounds. He feels terrible. Last night he had a nightmare. A very bad one.

It was usual, of course, that he has unpleasant dreams. He had them for years, reliving his bad experiences and traumas, as well as the frustrations and anxieties he is thrown on a daily basis due to his inability to cope with himself. What makes last night’s dream rather unusual was the person he dreamt about.

He dreamt someone was taking Byleth from him and ghastly murdering her with a butane blowtorch as he could do nothing else but watch, just like those psychopaths did with his stepmother. He gets chills when he remembers it.

As his sleep becomes calmer and he manages to stay unconscious until early morning, he has some time to consider why would he have such a nightmare with his landlady. It was likely that Sylvain drilled him about her last night, and he merely remembered it, but he does recognize that he might feel a little too strongly for her if he has that much ease imagining her in place of his stepmother.

He has not much time, nor mental bandwidth, to reckon with such, as the man’s attention gets caught by the open window. He distinctly remembers setting up the radiator before he fell asleep, and he always remembered to close the window when he does that, lest he wastes the guest-house’s gas so needlessly.

Sitting up straight, he also notices he is not wearing a shirt. That is strange because he always wears a full set to bed, ever since he was but a little boy. He strokes his bare chest and looks around the room. Then, when he looks to his left, he sees a girl. A girl with green, messy hair and pale skin, facing the wall and sleeping peacefully.

Pacing around the room, Dimitri tries to remember what happened last night. He was not that drunk, was he? He does have a rather strong and particularly unpleasant headache, but that is nothing new in his life. He remembers clearly everything that passed last night, to the moment he turned off his lights and rolled around to sleep. He could not have blacked out after he got home, that is unheard of.

Dimitri has so gone up in his mind that did not notice the slight movement on Byleth’s body, but when he sits down back on his bed, debating whether or not to wake her up, he notices that the landlady turned her head, now facing him, even if her eyes were obscured by the matted hair.

At this, the blond man puts out his hands and removes the rebellious strands from the girl’s face. Swiftly, as if it burns him, he pulls his hand back as his fears are confirmed. It is her, it is undeniable that this woman is his landlady. The strange girl in his bed is the woman he is in love with.

Dimitri freaks out. What happened?

A knock resounds from the bedroom door. Sylvain walks in. His eyes are sleepy and he is wearing only his pyjama bottoms, despite Jeralt having chewed him out again and again to keep a shirt on at all times. With his eyes half-closed, he falls down on Dimitri’s bed. Right on top of her.

“Goddess gracious, what’s this?” The redhead mutters with his face in the covers.

Dimitri immediately pulls his friend up and shushes him. The skirt-chaser’s amber eyes widen when he realizes that there is someone else in the blonde’s bed.

“Who’s that? You didn’t take anyone home last night, did you? Byleth’s gonna kill you if you did.” The redhead chuckles.

Dimitri shakes his head and points Sylvain’s head closer to the figure with a smooth movement of his arm.

“No way!” The foolish man celebrates. “Nice job!”

Dimitri pushes Sylvain back.

“No, not nice job, Sylvain. I don’t know what happened last night! I went to sleep and when I woke up, Byleth was here.” The blond whispers in panic. “And that’s not also considering the fact I had a nightmare. I don’t want anyone here while I’m dreaming, and I certainly do not want her of all people.”

Her hands move and Sylvain gets up.

“I don’t know what happened either, but I do know that you really should confess to her. There is a reason she is in your bed, Dimitri. People do not do those things for the laughs or sport, regardless of what you think of me.” Sylvain says and makes himself scarce.

Probably to tell Ingrid and Annette, Dimitri guesses.

Before the young man can concern himself with any of that, Byleth opens her eyes. She looks up to the blond man, who suddenly feels very naked, for he has not put on clothes and he is very aware of that now. He pulls up his legs and puts his arms around them.

She sits up and push his knees down with a frown.

“Don’t hide from me.” Byleth says, resolutely.

Dimitri blushes, trying not to stare at the woman, but he fails miserably. His icy blue eyes glide over her body, also rather exposed. Her long, unblemished legs, her feet hidden under the covers, her wide hips, her generous breasts, her thin shoulders, her strong arms. The man takes in every single piece of her absolutely delectable body, to the point he is ashamed of himself for behaving like a boar in heat. He cannot help himself; she is absolutely beautiful and he is not alone in thinking that.

“Stop that.” She chides him once again, breaking his train of thought and worsens his feeling of shame.

Byleth climbs over the large man and walks to his closet.

“Do you feel any better?” The woman asks, while putting on one of his sweaters over her skimpy pyjama top. It was rather big, ending by the middle of her thighs, but convenient to cover her body as intended.

Dimitri stares at her, confused about her sudden question.

“What… What do you mean?” He asks with a hoarse voice.

She turns around to face him.

“Well, with the nightmare…” The landlady trails off, her voice getting softer with every word.

Dimitri melts under her caring look. He wants to ask how she knows of them, but all he can manage to do is nod. She sits down on his long legs and place her hands on them. He feels the cool feeling of her touch spreading through his legs, but he does not move.

Byleth, despite her parentage, is a daughter of the south through and through, her body always runs cold. He prefers it so; it feels refreshing every time he manages to sneak a hug or a touch from her.

She points up. “My suite is directly above your room. I can hear everything that goes on in here.”

His face paled. “Everything?! For the last four years?!”

The landlady nods.

“Goddess gracious…” The stunned man breathed out. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

She shrugged. “I thought you’d feel embarrassed about your nightmares.”

You’d be right about that, Dimitri thinks with no small dose of irony.

“Besides, if I had you change rooms, I wouldn’t be able to hear you struggling with your sleep, and then I wouldn’t be able to help you when you clearly need me.” The woman weighed.

“So, that’s what happened? You heard me and came down to help?” He asks, not knowing whether he feels shamed or flattered.

Byleth nods once more.

“Pretty much, but it was worse than usual. I tried everything I normally do but you just wouldn’t calm down.” She caresses her still-painful wrist. “Eventually, you grabbed my wrist and wouldn’t let go. So, I climbed in bed next to you and you finally fell asleep. I know it’s inconvenient, and I’m sorry if I scared you when you woke up, and if I made you uncomfortable with the whole thing.”

Dimitri shakes his head, dismissing the notion. It was all his fault, she was only kind enough to lose sleep on his account, to help him wake up, which he was pitifully unable to do, as it stands. Goddess knows how many nights she spent restlessly just to take care of him.

Furthermore, he is relieved, of course, but also a little disappointed. It might be selfish of him, but a little piece of him had hoped that something had happened, that he would be able to stake a claim to this woman, even if fleeting.

Something did happen, the needy boy he carried in his heart thinks. She could have just sat at his bed, kicked him until he woke up, but she did not. She stayed, last night and many others before. Like Sylvain himself said, people do not do those things for a laugh or out of sport.

“No, no, it’s fine.” He responded, averting his eyes. “Thank you, Byleth. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

The green-haired woman takes a deep breath, as if she was going to say something but gave up half-way.

“It’s no problem, I’ll have your sweater washed and pressed.” She elected to say.

“Thank you, you can give it back whenever you’re ready.” He responded, rather chilly.

“I know you usually don’t want to talk about your nightmares, and we’ve all always respected it.” Byleth starts hesitatingly. “Me, my parents, Lord Fraldarius, and even the other cubs, we never brought it up before, we never asked anything about them, to preserve your privacy, but this one seemed so bad…”

Dimitri pauses and remembers what Sylvain had said. Should he tell her? He could always just play it off as caring for a friend.

“Yeah, I, uh…” Dimitri begins, rather unsure about himself. “Well, you see, I dreamt about the attack. Those memories are what usually plagues me in my sleep. The thing about yesterday is that… I don’t know, it might be because of the booze or because you were here with me, but I dreamt that, instead of them murdering my stepmother, they were killing…”

He breathed out, steeling himself for the unavoidable backlash.

“They were murdering you. There was nothing I could do, there is nothing I can ever do about it. All I did was cry and scream… I thought I was going to lose you, Byleth, and I can’t… I just can’t stand the thought.”

*_*_*_*_*

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