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undertale-rho · 4 years ago

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Multiverse Saga: Taken!Altertale - Chapter 7

Rhosaith materialized within AlT-113 next to a bed of golden flowers; a pillar of light extended from a hole above down to the bed.

"You came." a voice sounded from nearby.

Turning to face the source, Rho saw 4 standing nearby, next to an alcove.

"Of course I did. I came to help with the reclamation of AlT-113." she said.

"And what about the others?"

Rhosaith shrugged.

4 looked to the alcove. "Works for me. Just be sure to stay out of my way."

4 moved to enter the alcove when a tear of light appeared near the bed of golden flowers; out from which emerged the Star Sanses and the Bad Time Trio. They were chatting among themselves but quieted down when they saw Rhosaith and 4 standing within the space already.

"Mweh heh heh!!!" Blueberry exclaimed. "We meet again, Rhosaith!" he then turned to 4. "And you, brooding Sans. Nice to meet you!!"

4 turned back around and entered through the alcove.

"Well that was rude." Blueberry pouted. "Didn't even say hi back."

"Don't let it get you down, Blue." the yellow-cloaked Sans said.

Blueberry looked back at the yellow-cloaked Sans.

"Yeah, I know, Dream." he said. "Not everybody is positive. Some people are negative. We should do our best not to be negative."

Dream!Sans smiled. "Anyway, we shouldn't leave him alone out here, with that Destroyer loose."

The Star Sanses, followed by the Bad Time Trio, walked through the alcove and down the tunnel beyond.

"You coming?" Chara called back to Rhosaith.

Rho looked up at him, nodded, and ran his way.

"So what's your story?" Chara asked Rhosaith when she caught up.

"My story?" Rhosaith asked.

"Yeah. I don't think I have ever seen you around before. What universe are you from?"

"My... universe?" Rhosaith thought about that for a second. She didn't know their designation system, and she didn't know what designation her universe held.

"According to Alliance archives," Hamlet spoke into Rhosaith's ear, "your universal designation is UnTR-13PO."

"I think it's... UnTR-13PO. Yeah."

Everybody stopped moving and turned to face Rhosaith, their faces dark with apprehension.

"What did you just say?" Sans asked, the white lights inside his eye sockets now point-like.

"What?" Rhosaith asked, unsure what to make of the situation.

"Did you just say you're from a restricted universe?" he asked, this time a bit more specific.

Rhosaith remained silent, unsure how to answer.

"Yeah, she did." Ink!Sans said. "Universe 13, no less."

"Whoa, you're from universe 13?" Blueberry then asked. "That's so cool! What's it like there? How'd you escape without alerting the Alliance?"

"Not the time for questions, Blue." Dream!Sans said, stepping out in front of him defensively.

"What's wrong with universe 13?" Rhosaith asked.

"It's a restricted universe." Ink answered. "Meaning that something, or somethings, within hold a realistic threat to the Alliance."

Rhosaith was struck dumb for a few seconds. A realistic threat?

"What the hell is in universe 13 that could possibly hold a 'realistic threat' to a K4 civilization?" Rhosaith demanded.

"Nobody knows." Papyrus said, pulling a box of cigarettes out of his hoodie pocket. "Mind if I smoke?" he then asked.

Rhosaith waved her hand. In response, Papyrus opened the box and pulled one out with his teeth, replacing the box to his pocket as he used fire magic to light the end. After a second, he pulled the cigarette out and held the end of it next to his neck.

"Universe 13 was among the first universes discovered by the Alliance." Papyrus continued. "The only thing that's known about it is that the eggheads back on the Nexus believe it to be the oldest universe in the multiverse. Other than that, only the King knows what lurks within. Well, the King, and you."

Rhosaith shook her head.

"I have no idea what the Alliance could possibly be afraid of." Rhosaith went silent for a few seconds. "Well, except maybe LOV."

"What's LOV?" Papyrus asked.

"It's a parasite that feeds off the SOUL of living creatures. Lives to murder."

"Oh, that." Papyrus said, unconcerned. "No, SOUL-crustâ€”as the Alliance calls itâ€”is prevalent throughout the multiverse."

"Then I don't know why the Alliance restricted my universe; what could possibly have spooked them that badly.

"Anyway," Rhosaith concluded, "we should keep moving. 4 is probably already far ahead."

Slowly, they all agreed and pressed forward, but all of them keeping a hidden eye on Rhosaith.

"Thanks a lot, Hamlet." Rhosaith said.

"It is of no fault of mine, Madam Rho." Hamlet replied.

"You knew they'd react that way. Why didn't you warn me?"

"There's nothing to worry about, Madam. Everything will work out fine."

Sighing, Rho continued along with the rest.

Entering the greater part of the Royal Watchtower, the mercenaries quickly ran across streaks of blood traced along in some areas. Upon entering a long hallway, a sudden shiver of the ground caused them all to stop progress.

"Whoa, did you feel that?" Chara asked the others.

"I felt something just now." Sans responded, turning a covert eye to Rhosaith.

An earthquake, just as sudden as the rumble the mercenaries felt, then appeared; seeming to shake the very foundations of the world itself. After a few seconds, everything stopped just as suddenly as it began.

"Did we get it?" a brooklyn-accented voice called out from nearby.

"I think so." a more feminine brooklyn-accented voice replied. "Lemme check."

"What's going on?" Blueberry asked. "Where are those voices?"

Rhosaith pointed to a massive fissure in one of the purple brick walls. "I think it's coming from there." she said.

"What theâ€” was that always there?" Papyrus asked.

A red hook appeared from the fissure, grasping the outer rim of it. A few seconds later, one of the skeletons who was at the briefing appeared from the hole. Catching sight of the mercenaries standing nearby, she turned back towards the darkness of the fissure.

"Yeah, we got it." she called in, unhooking the red hook from the rim and dangling it down for her partner.

A few seconds later, S.Tâ€”the naked skeleton who attended the briefingâ€”climbed from the fissure as well.

"Ay, well ain't this a surprise." S.T said upon climbing free of the hole.

The other skeleton then hopped down as well, the red item she held vanishing completely as she did so.

"Did you cause that quake?" Rhosaith asked.

S.T looked back at the fissure. "Eh, probably. There wasn't a Tunnel entrance to this universe."

"Tunnel entrance?"

S.T pointed back at the fissure. "Yeah, way to get to other universes."

"Why not just use an Anti-Void?" Ink!Sans asked.

S.T gave Ink an annoyed look.

"Does it look like I can access the Expanse?" he asked.

"I mean, you can't really tell just by looking."

"The answer's no, I can't. Nobody in my Crew can. So lay off."

Ink put his hands up defensively. "Relax, I was just asking."

"So who's this with you?" Rhosaith asked, trying to distract the two from conflicting further.

S.T looked bemused at Rhosaith, then answered, "Oh, this is Swap."

"Hello." Swap said, waving to the rest.

The mercenaries greeted Swap.

"We should hurry forward." Rhosaith said. "4 is up ahead, and he didn't seem too interested in wanting help."

"What!?" Dream exclaimed. "4 is planning to fight that Destroyer alone?"

"That's what it looked like to me."

Immediately, all the mercenaries in the hall began running through the rest of the tower. In what seemed like no time at all, they finally found 4 heading down the hall below the home at the end of the tower.

"4!" Dream called out when they saw him.

4 turned to face who had said his name, finding everyone else who had been at the briefing.

"So you finally arrive. Took you long enough." 4 said, continuing on his path unconcerned.

"4, wait!" Dream called again. "We need to think out our plan of attack. We don't even know who we're dealing with, so we need to be extra careful."

"You be careful." 4 said. "'the Destroyer' is in Snowdin Town, and he probably already knows we're here."

"What!?!" Ink said. "How do you know this, do you... have you encountered this Destroyer before?"

4 stopped walking.

"Yes." he said after a minute. "And I'm here to kill him, once and for all." he began walking again.

Unsure what else to do, the rest followed after.

"So, 4," Rhosaith said a few minutes after they'd walked through the Citadel door to the Snowdin Province, "seeing as you've encountered this... Destroyer, before, what can you tell us?"

4 looked over at Rho.

"You're a new rifter, aren't you." he said.

"I, uh, don't really understand what 'rifter' means."

"A rifter is somebody who travels between universes using the Anti-Void Expanse as a go-between. It is by far the most common means of travel in the multiverse. You saying you don't know the term confirms it."

"So basically, I'm new."

4 nodded.

"So, are you gonna—"

"Mercenaries don't commonly share information about Destroyers." 4 said bluntly. "Clears competition in that way. If others don't know what they're up against, they could get themselves killed, or they could run. Either way, you get a bigger cut."

"That's insane!" Rhosaith protested.

"Information is power. If you think it's so insane, the Star Sanses is the group best suited for you. They share information like it's nobody's business. For example, everything they've ever discovered about another Destroyer—Error!Sans—has been shared in every detail with the Alliance." 4 spat dismissively at that last statement.

"So information about the enemy should never be shared, simply to sabotage the abilities of the others with you?"

"Sounds like you got it, rook."

As they finished their conversation, the mercenaries were approaching the outer-most sections of the town.

Reaching the inn not too far in, a raspy voice echoed across the empty buildings.

"THAT'S CLOSE ENOUGH!" it shouted.

Everybody stopped where they stood.

"I see you brought friends along this time, Error!404." the voice then said.

"And I can see you're still hiding like a coward, Infected." 4 responded.

A hysterical laughter then echoed across the village as a single Sans dragging a somewhat smaller goat-Monster appeared out from behind the furthest house in the village.

"Here I am!" Infected declared.

A blue aura appeared around 404, a great feeling of power seeming to build around him.

"Ah ah ah," Infected warned, "look what I got!"

Infected dragged the goat-Monster—which Rhosaith confirmed to be a naked Toriel—up in front of him and presented her like a meat shield.

"You wouldn't want to hurt sweet little miss Toriel here, now would you?" Infected asked, drawing his axe and pressing it against Toriel's throat.

Toriel didn't seem responsive.

"You know I only care about tearing you to pieces!" 404 said.

"Yes, but what about your new friends?" Infected asked.

404's eyes widened, and he glanced behind him at the other mercenaries. S.T's Crew was an unknown variable, but 404 knew that the Star Sanses and the Bad Time Trio wouldn't stand for innocents being hurt.

"You wouldn't want them to tear you apart before you can do it to me, now would you."

404's aura dimmed.

"That's it. Now back away slowly."

404 backed up a few paces.

Suddenly, Rhosaith drew both a blade from the skirt on her long-coat along with the handle, clicking the blade into place at the end, then pointed it at Infected and fired, launching the blade at high speeds, straight into Infected's right eye.

"Sans!" Rhosaith then shouted. "Use gravity magic and pull Toriel to us."

Immediately, Sans raised his arm and pulled the Toriel from Infected's distracted grasps, pulling her to them in no time.

"Is she alright?" Rhosaith asked as soon as Toriel slid to the ground in front of Sans.

Sans held a hand over her chest, a faint green glow emanating from his palm.

"She's alive." he said after a few seconds.

A hysterical laughter once again broke through the air. Looking back at Infected, he had grasped the blade that was sticking from his socket and was slowly pulling it free, laughing as he did so.

"That was a nice shot!" he said, pulling the blade free. "Weren't you worried you might hit dear sweet Toriel?"

"Not at all." Rhosaith said bluntly.

Infected's smile wavered slightly.

"Not at all?" he parroted. "What are you, some kind of psychopath?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I was so certain in my aim that I wasn't concerned for Toriel."

Infected's smile grew again. "Oh I can't wait to tear into you." he said, licking his teeth.

"Blue, Dream, Rhosaith," Ink said, stepping forward with his massive paintbrush. "you three protect Toriel and see if you can revive her. The rest of you, with me. We're gonna take this... thing down!"

Rhosaith glanced over at Ink, annoyed that she'd been told to stay back, but when she saw that the other mercenaries were doing as they'd been told by him, she relented and fell back to where Toriel lay.

"How is she?" Rhosaith asked again when she reached her body, which was already being tended to by Blue and Dream.

"She'll be fine... I hope..." Dream said, carefully administering life magic to her SOUL as Blue tended to her physical injuries.

"What can I do to help?"

"Honestly? Just... stay back."

"What?"

Dream looked up from Toriel and looked Rhosaith directly in the visor.

"Stay here and out of the way." he said.

"Why!?" Rhosaith demanded to know as Dream went back to healing.

"Because... the others, they don't... trust you. Please understand, you're new, so you already have that working against you. Now normally, that wouldn't be so bad, but you're also from a restricted universe. Seeing as the King isn't hunting you down, that must mean you bypassed the Alliance's sensors."

"So you all see me as a threat."

Dream slowed a bit. "Yes... nobody knows how to bypass the sensors—not even the King—so you being able to do it... well, it's frightening. What if something else from your universe finds a way to leave without alerting the sensors? It could mean the end of the Alliance and multiverse peace as we know it."

Rhosaith looked over at the mercenaries, who were fighting tooth-and-nail against Infected.

They call this peace?

"There's that," Dream continued, "and the fact that you just... fired at Infected without a moment's hesitation. What if you hit Toriel?"

"I wasn't going to." Rhosaith said.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I peered through time and saw that, if I did things correctly, there would be no possible way I would hit her."

"You... peered through time?" Dream asked, freezing up. "Are you trying to get a Keeper to delete you?"

Rhosaith looked back at the battle. "I... don't think I'll have to worry about that..."

"Everybody who screws with time thinks that! The Keepers don't like it when people screw with time, no matter who it is!"

Rhosaith looked back at Dream to respond but was interrupted by Hamlet.

"Rhosaith is a Time Specter of a 'Keeper' League. She is permitted—within reason—to 'screw with time', as you say."

Dream and Blue both looked dumb-struck.

"You... work with the Keepers?" Blue asked.

Rhosaith silently looked away, back towards the battle. Blue and Dream didn't press.

The battle, all things considered, was going relatively well. Ink had cut off any avenues of escape, while S.T and Swap herded Infected around Snowdin. The Bad Time Trio, along with Error!404, were the major hard-hitters, with Sans and Papyrus keeping Infected from doing anything that would put him at an advantage, and Chara and Error!404 making sure to keep him immobile and pound him with horrid attacks; Chara with his vines, and 404 with his cables.

About five minutes after the battle began, S.T, who had been holding a supporting role for the majority of the battle, finally managed to sever the skull from the rest of Infected's body as he had been immobilized by an endless growth of vines. The last sound heard from the beast was laughter as his body disintegrated into pale blue specks that flew up into the sky.

Taken!Altertale : Hysteria

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#undertale #undertale au #undertale rho #UTRStory #multiverse saga #taken!altertale

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queenlifesupport · 6 years ago

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Aching Part 1 (Rog! x Y/N)

Here a fic no one requested, but I really wanted to do this. This is a little long so there might be typos. I REALLY HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY! OH AND THIS CAN BE ABOUT BEN/ROG OR THE O.G (PART 2)

WORDS: 3,018

WARNINGS : Language, alcohol use, angst, & depression

Each day felt harder than the last, he was finally here for months time, but he was only home for such a little amount of it. No matter what I had planned, he left and did whatever his heart pleased. When he was home at such rare occasion, I felt like I was spending time with the vessel that used to hold the man I loved. I still loved him, I loved what we had and what we stood for. We stood for faith and patience, we stood for the good on this rotten earth, but now he was pulled into the sickening ropes of misery that we protected each other from. The morning was the only beautiful time of these dreadful days, how the sun that shines on everything on earth peaked through the dirtied windows of what used to be "our" home. The birds chirping was loud enough to hear through the smallest fissures in the windowsill, causing the air to feel lighter than usual. Roger was already dressed when I woke up, he sat the the end of the bed, pulling his shoes on then rising.

"Where are you going?" I groggily asked, using my hand to rub the sleep from my eyes. I squinted as I laid my eyes upon his back.

"Out." Was all he replied with before he swiftly exited the cold and shallow room. I swallowed hard with disappointment, I wasn't sure why I expected it to all go back to normal in one long night. Ever since Live Aid, he's really changed and he hasn't told me anything or even accepted to talk to me. I shut my eyes in exhaustion as I heard the front door shut. I finally opened my eyes once again, accepting the fact that I couldn't change anything right now. I used whatever strength I had to sit up, groaning at the sun invading my vision. Although I loved the natural light, it was my worst enemy with sensitive morning eyes. I pushed myself to leave the comfortable yet painful bed that held memories I caught myself reminiscing on. The house used to be bearable, but now all it holds is pain and my heavy heart, some days I couldn't stand being here. You'd think after months I'd be used to the pain but everyday it had a different way of being heard, a different way of nesting itself in the raw holes of my heart. The familiar uneven breath could be recognized in the back of my throat, I knew today would be one of those days. But in all honesty, the sound of the quiet atmosphere made me happier than the sound of Rogers obnoxious intoxicated yelling. For now, I could deal with the emptiness.

Hours have passed since the man left, at this point he felt more like a stranger than my fiancé. In all hours of the day I felt like my own best friend in this fucked up setting, I missed the person I used to call my best friend, the man I used to call my everything. The walls felt as if they shook off anger and depression, I couldn't take the loneliness anymore. I ascended from the stiff navy-blue cushion, setting down the crystal clear glass that held the small remains of the downed whiskey. I entered the sorrowful room that constantly made you grieve the beauty that was lost within it's towering prison-like walls. I shuffled my way to the white painted dresser, taking a deep breath to fend off the aching tears that begged to escape. After winning the war in my mind, I softly took ahold of the top handle, opening the drawer with the sound of the wood running against each other, then started to remove each article of clothing I had neatly folded some day long ago. My heart hurt with sadness, each packed article of clothing was another light being turned off until each light was cut between us forever. After all the clothes I never wore were finally packed, all that was left in the empty space was Rogers envelope that held the lease of the house along with other important papers like deals, contracts and whatnot. I grasped onto the envelope, carefully making sure to not tear it as I removed what was on the inside. I flipped through the stack, looking specifically for my car papers, I was going to take my car with me to wherever it was I was headed to and I knew I would eventually need them. I abruptly stopped filing through them when I came across one I couldn't seem to recognize. The page was full of cursive handwriting that I knew didn't belong to Roger, I anxiously skimmed through it, feeling my heart shatter to pieces once I realized what it was. He had been giving his love to another woman. And all of the proof was here on this one page. This one page that held so many lies and broke the thin line of trust I still held to the man, the thin line of hope. My sadness escaped as reality swept in, all that invaded my core was numbness, I didn't even realize the heavy tears that fell from my stone cold gaze as my eyes were fixed on the paper until the tiny droplets made themselves visible on the sheet. I slowly set the piece of paper on the surface on the dresser, fixing my attention back to finding the paper I originally wanted. I finally retrieved the set of information, then closing the envelope and setting it back into its original place, just missing two articles of what used to be held in it. I continued to empty the drawers into suitcases, avoiding the thoughts of what I had just discovered. I knew that logically I couldn't be happy here, I couldn't find my paradise. I needed someone to trust, someone that would never hurt me no matter what we went through, I needed someone other than Roger and that fact was clear now. After everything valuable I owned was packed away in luggage, I took a long look in the mirror that had a small fracture in the bottom left corner. Everything seemed like a stupid game at this point, how did I not expect this to happen? Did I really think he was going to change because of me? I couldn't fix him, no one could, he was damaged and broke down everyone who tried to help him. I was one of those people that he destroyed without guilt or responsibility. I felt like a failure, all I did was fail today. I know I'm leaving but I don't know where to, and I just want to make a clean escape from this hell hole.

I had packed everything into my car, my clothes, bathroom essentials, memories. I roamed through the home one more time, placing a note I wrote for him on the kitchen counter, underneath it laid the paper I found earlier, to top it all off, the engagement band he once gave me sat square in the middle. I struggled getting myself to leave. I was scared of what leaving would mean. I gave my whole life to Roger, I spent my devoted time with him, I showed him pieces of me no one ever knew existed. Fond memories landed me back into the covers, gazing into his ocean eyes as we shared our goals we held together. I remember it like it was yesterday.

"I haven't been this happy in years." His tone was a hushed whisper, each word causing a different flutter in my heart. I took my bottom lip between my teeth as I watched him speak. The white sheets allowed the sunshine to illuminate the inside of our cozy-lazy fort that was held up by nothing but the shape of our figures.

"I haven't felt so understood." My reply was genuine, accompanied with a smile I couldn't hide from the man who stole my heart. Roger made me feel like life was worth living, each thing was meaningless until he reached out to save me from the melancholy depths of the metaphoric sea. The way I looked at myself changed, he saw me in a different light, he held me in a different light. His smile warmed my heart for days and thats all I needed to survive off of.

"I want to marry you." He muttered after a few moments of peaceful silence. "I want everyone to know you're mine, I want to share the same last name. I want to build something so strong between us out of the bitter nothingness that was there before. Each day that escapes us, I have small regrets that I haven't asked you to marry me yet." He spoke quickly, I somehow managed to figure out what was saying over the sound of my beating heart in my head.

"I would absolutely love that." It was the truth, my goal as of now was being his forever. He was the masterpiece in this crazy carved world. I knew he was the love of my life.

My heart ached at the memory, I was made ashamed in front of him and everyone around us. I was young and naive to believe in love, this proved that it was true, nothing was true about love except for the fact it hurt. It hurt so much knowing you're not enough for the person you love the most, the person you've made a life with. There was a point where I never thought that this life was possible, he was the love I had searched for during my whole life. I shook off the thoughts, taking one last glance at the home we used to share before closing the front door and locking it behind me. When I heard the lock set in place, thats when I realized there was no going back. That lock separated me from a life I would never be able to retrieve back, no matter what happened between Roger and I, we would never get to that point again. I offered him support in all aspects and he knew I was always there for him, I cared for him beyond the surface level. As of today its felt like he abandoned that knowledge he held, he abandoned us and it was my turn to end this childish game of secrets and distance. I didn't want to be myself anymore, I settled for the worst, I settled for the guys who hurt me and tore my trust into small shreds. I needed to become the woman I was always meant to be, strong and realistic. Roger and I were apart of the past, and it was my job to leave that in the past where it belonged. Thats exactly what I'm doing today, although it was painful and made me dread every breathing moment I spent on this earth.

It had been a few weeks since the incident, I was still hurting, but each day I made it through I realized the pain would eventually turn transparent and no longer be such a struggle to handle. I couldn't help but still wonder if this meant anything to him, was he hurting? I hated him but at the same time I loved him. My coping mechanism has been a liquid cure I've fell into, it allowed me to feel numb until the pain escapes and fades into a distant memory. I've been staying at a hotel across town, I've occasionally contacted the boys a little but have requested to not talk about Roger. They knew the situation but respected my wish, they've been nothing but supportive and kind to me through this progress. I've been so tempted to ask about Roger but I knew that would only damage me more, I didn't need him, I needed myself. They were my true and only friends. Today was the first day I hadn't woken up and drank myself to a blackout of emotions, I forced myself to get dressed and head outside. The hotel room was a wreck. There were empty cups and bottles cluttering majority of the flat surfaces. Clothes scattered around among the carpeted floor, plates laid around too. I felt miserable about myself and my situation, my surroundings weren't helping either. Once I settled on a simple outfit, I prepped myself just a little, brushing my hair and cleaning out my foul smelling mouth. The hallway was empty as always. I never saw anyone roaming them and I guess that was probably in my favor. I wasn't quite sure where I was headed, I just new I needed to get in my car and drive myself off to some place to distract myself from reality.

I found myself in a restaurant, sitting alone at the bar. Stirring my drink lazily as I dwelled on my feelings. I was too caught up in the small spiral before even noticing the man sitting next to me. He had brown short hair along with a well groomed beard, his arms filled out his plaid shirt perfectly.

"You look like you could really use that drink." He spoke with a slight chuckle. His voice was a tad deep but he spoke sweetly and softly, to my surprise he lacked an accent which was unusual around here.

"Make that 10." I joked back, looking him in the eyes. He had a heartwarming smile, he had this admiration just beaming off of him. "Whats your name?" I became interested, my posture straightened out, now slightly facing towards the man.

"Oliver. And you?" He had one arm leaned on the bar, from his elbow and under hung from the counter as he eloped his two hands together while studying me.

"Y/N. You have a British name so whats the lack of the accent?" I took a sip of my drink while maintaining contact. He was a bigger man, taller than me, I guess I would compare him to an adorable dad bod. I was kind of digging it.

"Well if you must know, I was born here but my parents were from America. My parents tried to make up for the lack of accent." We continued our small conversation. I learned more about him and he learned more about me. We shared stories and memories from both childhood and adulthood. He was kind, for once in this miserable stage of my life, I felt heard and understood. I hadn't realized him and I have been sitting at the bar for over two hours until he checked the dark false leather and silver watch he wore upon his wrist and told me the time.

"That's crazy, I could stay here for way longer. Got any plans tonight?" I questioned with a slight smile. He hummed sarcastically and made a thinking face.

"I'm not sure, let me check my schedule." He held his hands up as if he was awkwardly reading a book. "Lets see here... I have it booked tonight sorry, I'm spending it with this really pretty lady." He looked at me with a fake frown.

"Oh good to know." I blushed slightly at his remark. "Let's get out of here?" I went out on a risk and asked the question first. He blushed this time, looking down at his hands while he debated in his thoughts.

"I'd love to." His voice was softer with his reply.

The next week I spent crashing on Olivers couch and occasionally in his bed. I had recently told him about my situation and he understood. He was finally that one friend I was searching for, and honestly I couldn't deny that I felt a little bit more than a friendly feeling towards him. He was nothing but kind to me the whole time I stayed, he made everything much easier to get through. At this point it didn't even hurt to think about Roger, I still thought about him but it didn't ache like it used to. I felt much more alive than I have in the last few months, I felt free from misery and I felt free from being someones balance and track. I was in control of my thoughts and feelings, my schedule was based on what I wanted, not what Roger wanted. Thats what I struggled with when we were together but that doesn't matter anymore, what matters is its today and I'm in control of the day ahead of me.

"What do you want to do today? I was thinking I'll take you out for breakfast then we go do something?" Oliver called from the bathroom, I sat on the brown soft couch in the living room just a room away. My eyes scanned the newspaper that was delivered this morning, setting it down then turning around to look back at him. I sat uncomfortably on my knees, allowing my arms to hang off the back of the couch. He walked out of the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging from his mouth as he awaited my response.

"That sounds perfect. What shall we entertain ourselves with after we eat?" I questioned, looking at the quite handsome man up and down. He wore a white t-shirt and blue jeans with his blue striped socks.

"I said it was up to you." His voice was slightly muffled due to the brush occupying his mouth.

"How about we take a walk or something? Lets just get out, enjoy our time." He smiled at my suggestion, soon regretting it as toothpaste fell from his mouth and onto the hardwood floor. I giggled as he rushed to cleaned it up. "I'll take that as a yes?" He nodded his head at me. I smiled to myself, happy with my current situation. I felt slightly guilty that I was already moving on, but at the same time, Roger didn't deserve my attention or any sympathy from me. I deserved to feel happy and have my own things going on. Oliver was a huge part of this, I could already tell he would be a big part of my life.

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theliberaltony · 5 years ago

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via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Back in March, before the 2020 Democratic primary contest really ramped up, I wrote an article about the divides in the Democratic Party at the level of activists and elected officials. There are splits along several fronts, but the main fault line runs between two more liberal factions on the one side — I dubbed them the “Super Progressives” and the “Very Progressives” — and two more center-left ones — the “Progressive Old Guard” and the “Progressive New Guard.” (You can read that original article for fuller descriptions of those groups, but in short: Think Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez for “Super Progressives,” Sen. Elizabeth Warren for “Very Progressives,” South Bend, Ind., Mayor Pete Buttigieg for “Progressive New Guard” and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi for “Progressive Old Guard.”)

In March, though, it wasn’t clear how these wings would interact in the Democratic primary, or more generally in the run-up to 2020. Which would voters rally behind? What would they argue about?

The 2020 primary process and what’s happened on Capitol Hill over the last few months has started to answer those questions, clarifying the deep divisions between the party’s left and its center-left. And, at least so far, those divisions have revolved around (i) health care, (ii) how much the party should take on corporations and the wealthy, and (iii) race.

Health care

Earlier this year, “Medicare for All” — the idea that a government-run health insurance plan along the lines of Medicare should replace private insurance — looked on its way to becoming the Democratic Party’s de facto approach on health care, with Democrats wary of the concept in the clear minority. A House bill introduced in February by Rep. Pramila Jayapal of Washington, one of the leaders of the Congressional Progressive Caucus, got a majority of House Democrats behind it. Even 2020 candidates closer to the ideological center than Warren or Bernie Sanders, including Kamala Harris (Progressive New Guard) and Buttigieg, were leaning into the idea.

But former vice president Biden (“Progressive Old Guard”) entered the race at the top of the polls and has emphatically run against M4A. Pelosi and more moderate Democrats have echoed his wariness, arguing that M4A is both too complicated to implement and too electorally risky. With the politics of the issue changing, Harris came up with a more modest M4A plan than the one written by Jayapal, while Buttigieg started aping Biden’s stronger anti-M4A rhetoric.

Warren, Sanders and the party’s liberal wing remain deeply committed to the idea. They have strongly defended Medicare for All and cast its opponents as in the pockets of the health insurance industry.

So which side is winning? On M4A, I would argue that the more moderate wings have the upper hand for now. You can see that in the Buttigieg and Harris campaigns, in which both felt the need to shift their rhetoric away from M4A. Polling suggests Democratic voters have fairly positive views of M4A, but Democrats also really like more incremental approaches (like building on Obamacare or “Medicare for all who want it”). And full-fledged M4A is fairly controversial with the broader electorate. Here, for example, are the results from a Marist College survey conducted over the summer:

How much support do various Democratic policies get?

Percentage supporting each policy position

Policy position Democrats Republicans Adults Medicare for All who want it 90% 46% 70% Wealth tax 88 32 62 Green new deal 86 26 63 Assault weapons ban 83 29 57 Legalizing marijuana 74 41 63 Medicare for All 64 14 41 Abolishing death penalty 55 16 36 Reparations 46 3 27

Source: Marist poll

If Sanders or Warren makes it to the general election, he or she will face a lot of pressure from the broader Democratic Party to soften his or her health care stands. In fact, Warren is already doing so, putting out a plan last week that essentially would put off a full push to put all Americans under Medicare for All until her third year in office.

Confronting the wealthy

If the more progressive wings of the Democratic Party have lost ground on health care, I think they might be winning the intra-party debate over how Democrats should approach the wealthy and corporations.

Let me briefly explain the party fissure here. Both Sanders and Warren have embraced specific taxes on wealth, as opposed to more traditional Democratic proposals to increase income taxes on upper-income Americans and businesses. Both are refusing to attend fundraisers in which big donors could have special access to them. Warren, Sanders, Ocasio-Cortez and liberal activists are increasingly critical of billionaires, suggesting they are often barriers to political change and the fact that they have so much wealth in and of itself illustrates flaws with America’s economic system. Warren, in particular, has called for the breakup of big tech companies and much more aggressive oversight of Wall Street and Washington lobbying.

None of the other Democratic candidates in the 2020 race have embraced this highly confrontational approach with the wealthy and major corporations. But it’s not like the center-left in the Democratic Party is going around defending billionaires (that would be politically stupid), so this divide is a bit harder to see in the wild. My guess is that some of the center-left candidates think ideas like the wealth tax are not practical or realistic. The candidates who don’t have big small-donor bases like Sanders and Warren — so basically the rest of them — have some incentive not to bash the rich; those candidates need wealthy donors to help finance their campaigns. And the candidates who don’t win the presidency might want to get lucrative jobs on Wall Street or K Street or become paid speakers — career paths that are easier if wealthy Americans don’t hate you.

We don’t have a lot of polling on say, whether voters want their candidates to attend big-dollar fundraisers. But a number of polls, like the Marist one above, suggest the wealth tax is fairly popular. And the broader concept that the wealthy have too much power is even more popular — basically unifying Democrats and even getting some Republican support. And politically it’s hard to really defend the wealthy. No candidate wants to say, “If I am president, I guarantee my big donors will have special access to me.”

So in terms of taking on wealthy individuals and big companies, the center-left is generally moving toward the left’s positions (at least publicly). Center-left 2020 candidates, like Buttigieg and Harris, are suggesting that Facebook in particular has too much power and criticizing the tech companies more directly. Democrats on Capitol Hill are increasingly slamming Facebook, with some even praising Warren specifically for leading them toward this stance. Left-leaning billionaires themselves are suggesting the political system is too weighted toward giving them power.

Race

The racial debate is even less out in the open than the one about taking on the wealthy. But it’s there. Sanders and Warren favor a commission to study the idea of reparations for black Americans. Sanders and Warren want to change crossing the border illegally from a criminal to a civil offense. The Vermont senator wants to allow people currently incarcerated to vote and has suggested he would suspend U.S. foreign aid to Israel if it doesn’t improve how it treats the Palestinians. Biden and more centrist Democrats generally aren’t embracing these ideas.

I doubt Biden really is deeply opposed on principle to allowing people in jail to vote or some kind of effort to address the legacy of slavery and its effects on black Americans. But some of these ideas are fairly unpopular with the overall electorate, and he has likely decided they are not worth the cost of losing any voters, while Sanders and Warren haven’t made that same calculus. So on this bloc of issues, Biden is not really leaning into his opposition, nor are Warren and Sanders really leaning into their support.

So those are the huge divides. You’ll notice that many of these policies have little chance of becoming law, and I think everyone knows that. After all, Democrats are heavy underdogs to win a majority of seats in the U.S. Senate in 2020 and even if they do, that majority will include members such as West Virginia’s Joe Manchin who aren’t likely to embrace transformational policies such as M4A.1

Instead, many of these fights are really a proxy for broader debates within the Democratic Party: Should Democrats set really big goals and push hard for them, like Medicare for All, as opposed to govern in a more incremental way? Should Democrats reject some of the centrism on economic issues and alliances with big business and Wall Street of the Clinton and Obama years for a more aggressive populism? How willing should Democrats be to push for policies, like allowing those currently incarcerated to vote, that might disproportionately benefit people of color but offend some white voters, who likely will be as much as two thirds of the electorate in 2020? Many liberals think President Barack Obama aimed too low during the Obamacare debates (and on other issues too) and ended up accomplishing less because he was focused on building consensus with both corporate interests and congressional Republicans. Democrats like Biden and Pelosi generally believe that more incremental change is all that is possible in a divided country — and that setting really big goals only makes it harder to win the election.

It’s worth noting what is not dividing the party. Biden and the party’s center-left have essentially conceded to the left in embracing Green New Deal style-climate change plans, aggressive efforts to reform the criminal justice system and the impeachment of President Donald Trump. But the left has basically lost to the left-center in the intraparty fights over abolishing the Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency (even Warren has not embraced that idea) and very aggressive gun control proposals like a mandatory buyback program.

I’m obviously not hitting every issue here. (Foreign policy is complicated, both in describing the exact fissures in the party and in terms of which side is winning. So is, say, education.) Also, I should emphasize, Democratic voters aren’t necessarily divided in this way. There is evidence that Warren’s support is more concentrated among the party’s most liberal voters, while Biden and Buttigieg are stronger with “somewhat liberal” and “moderate” voters. But there is also evidence that voters aren’t seeing the race largely on ideological terms. The second-choice candidate, for example, for some who back Buttigieg is Warren.

But broadly, Democratic voters over the next few months will be choosing between a wing of the party, represented now by Biden and Buttigieg, that is generally wary of racial policy ideas that might piss off lots of white people, M4A and really taking on the wealthy, versus Sanders and Warren, who view those approaches more favorably. Which wing wins the primary will have major implications for both the 2020 elections and what happens after (either Democrats win the election and govern in the style of the winner’s wing or lose and wonder if they should have pursued the other course). So this fight really matters.

#IFTTT #Politics – FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #Perry Bacon Jr.

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sirenbehavior · 6 years ago

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The Arrangement (7)

Prologue Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

Authors Note: Hey guys, so I’m sorry this one took so long to get up and that it really fucking sucks lol. I actually have a lot going on at the moment on top of mother nature really fucking with ya girl this month. I did my best with it, but I really fucking hate this chapter. Theres a chance I won’t be updating too much over the next two weeks, but I’ll have PLENTY of goodies for you guys when I get back.

Warnings: Rated R, SMUT ALERT, slow-ish burn, hella curse words. I literally have not researched anything about FSU university, I used my own experience at a different school and my imagination so it may not be the most realistic.

Word Count: 10k+

Summary: He needs something from her, and she needs something from him.

Matteo’s room had white a ceiling.

Which was kind of a cool contrast to the walls which were painted a deep navy blue. There was a barely there crack that fissured through it right above the bed, reaching forward from the wall behind the headboard. It was hardly visible to the naked eye, but still I saw it. I saw it because focusing on that faint, thin, grey line in the sea of white was the only thing keeping my mind from speeding through the illegal street race of thoughts currently occupying my mind. That tiny little imperfection. It felt so distastefully symbolic.

Like a crack in a foundation. A crack in my foundation. Things like this weren't supposed to happen to me. I was supposed to be strong. I was Mora Chase. This wasn't hubris, it was just a fact. It had always been this way. I’d been through so much that it hardened my heart so I would never have to suffer unnecessarily again. So why do I feel like I can’t move? Like if I were to look away and get up to take the shower I’d told Matt I would take a while ago, that I would completely fall apart?

I was in love with Matteo.

The realization played on loop in my mind.

I didn’t want to believe it at first. I thought, hoped, that maybe I was just jumping to conclusions. A person doesn't just fall in love without knowing it right?

Maybe I was still caught up in the stupid fantasy I’d convinced myself this was.

So I waited to come down. Back to the real world where things made sense and I wasn't in love with Matteo. I waited and waited until he eventually came back with my dress bunched in his hand. But nothing had changed. This was the real world. There was never any fantasy. It was all real and I was in love with Matteo.

The thought alone left me feeling choked. So then I told myself that maybe, just maybe, I was feeling this way because I wanted more sex. Because I mean, I definitely did. Matteo was still naked, still mouth-wateringly enticing as he came to settle next me on his bed.

So I threw my leg over him and kissed him with the desperation of a woman that needed the feelings fucked out of her. Matteo was confused. Which was understandable. I had been riding an emotional rollercoaster since the first time, acting strange and dragging him along with me. I could see the uncertainty in his eyes when I pull away from his lips. So I can't say I'm surprised when he searches for my gaze to ask me “Are you sure this is what you want?”

I did. So much more than he knew. A sudden rush of emotion clogs in my throat, and I didn’t want to feel that. I don't want to think about us, how there could never be an us. So I kiss him again, with all of the proof he needs in the desperate way I fall into his lips, moaning and clawing at him, making my need for his body, his love, known the only way I could.

It doesn’t take long until he’s kissing me back. Still, apparently there was something in Matt that needed to hear me say it, because he pulled away from me, his fingers wrapping firmly my beneath my jaw, forcing me to look up, directly in his eyes when I go for a spot on his neck.

“Say, I want you Matteo.” He commanded.

“I want you, Matteo.” My lips trembled.

The words were fevered with from the absolute truth when I whisper them to him, and it's all it takes for me to have him between my legs again.

When he was finished with me, I was still in love with him. I couldn’t deny anymore even if I tried.

The moment he pulls me into his chest and I trace the sharp pattern on it near my face, I listen to the steady thump of his heartbeat against my ear, and I know with everything I am that this was where I belonged.

I was in love with him.

I was an odd mixture of sad at the end of the moment and relieved when he releases me from his arms to ask if I'm ‘hungry too’. Because I was in desperate need of a little alone time to think about what I should do. So I said yes and he volunteers to head out and grab something for the both of us, letting me know where the bathroom was if I wanted to take a shower.

I had been staring at the crack in the ceiling ever since, my mind stuck on a loop and broken.

I was in love with him.

How long have I loved him? The way I smiled and laughed when he was around made it painfully obvious now that it had been going on for quite some time. Did he love me too? Was he willing to try? Would it matter if he was? I knew who Matteo was and it wasn't the kind of man you were supposed fell in love with. I knew that and yet I still loved him. How? It didn’t make sense. But I did. I fucked up and I fell in love with him. My mind raced from one tragic thought to the next through all of the ways we were going to destroy each other.

The thought of it has my chest is rising and falling quickly while I try to contain the well of emotions rapidly spilling over into a crushing weight building in my chest.

I hear the door open and close and Matt yelling out that he grabbed us a pizza. I don’t even think to tease him for how stupid it was to go out for that when delivery exits. I only think about how much I love the sound of his voice calling out to me and how never wanted this night to end. Because deep down I knew that once I left this apartment and we would never share a moment like this again.

“Have you been in here the whole time?” Matteo is standing in the doorway with his hair pulled back, fully clothed in gym shorts and a t-shirt.

“I fell asleep.” I lie, but my voice sounds thick with emotion.

“Oh, well... I was craving a hero but I guess the place I go to closes early on Sunday. So I just grabbed us a pizza from the place next door. I hope that’s alright.” He says.

I feel the bed sink in beside me. The minute our eyes lock I wish I'd never looked away from the crack in the ceiling because now I’m burning to tell him. The words rush up my throat like regurgitation and taste that way when I swallow them. I try and stuff it away with all of the rest of my secrets so I can say to him “Pizza is fine.” But I can’t seem to be able to.

I know if I open my mouth I’m going to tell him I love him which would only make things worse than they already are. The weight of emotions still heavy on my chest feels suffocating by the time I feel warm tears pooling in the corners of my eyes.

What the fuck? I couldn’t cry now. There was no way. Matteo was right next to me. It would be so weird and he would be so worried. I had to pull it together, for him. I couldn’t fucking cry. I try to smother the urge. Stuff it down like I always do. But it feels like I'm already bursting at the seams with all the emotions from old traumas and secrets I was already keeping. Like I didn’t have room left for this one.

Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. No matter what you do, Mora. Don’t fucking cry and don’t tell Matteo you love him.

“I’m adopted.”

The words fly out of my mouth without being processed. I don't know how to feel because I'm terrified at my sudden confession but at the same time the prickling in the corners of my eyes recede once I let it out. As if releasing that bit of information made room for the massive secret of the feelings I now harbored for Matteo.

He's looking at me like I just told him I was already pregnant and I was planning on keeping it. “What?”

The room fills with silence doused heavy with awkward tension, in a way only I’m good at making it do. Any normal person would try and backtrack, to save the situation, but not me. I’m not that lucky, for some reason I keep talking.

“When you asked me about my psych paper, why I chose schizoaffective disorder, I didn’t want to tell you that my birth mother was the person I knew who had it. I'm not ashamed of her, at least I don’t think I am. It's just… that...sometimes I feel legitimately terrified because I know it’s hereditary. That one day I’ll end up batshit crazy like her. I got a new name and everything when my adoption was legalized, but a new name can't erase what will always be apart of me.”

“Mora.” When he sighs it sounds like I exasperate him and I get it, I exasperate myself sometimes. An unsettling quiet stretches between us and I feel a large hand move to caress my leg beneath the sheets. “Why are you telling me this?”

Because I love you.

“I don’t know.”

He sat in the silence that came after that and I focused on the crack in the ceiling. I think I freaked him out. I hope I freaked him out. I would rather have my heart broken right here and now than have to carry around these feelings just to have it happen later on.

But Matteo was perfect. He would never let it happen. There's an ache in my chest when he starts speaking. And ache so overwhelming that I wonder if my heart is already breaking.

“You asked me why I never took my final last semester...” He sighs, and my eyes flutter close when I realize what he’s doing. ‘He’s really good at making people fall in love with him.’ Nicole had tried to warn me, but I never fucking listen.

“It was because I couldn’t handle the pressure. You--you have to really love this sport to be able to carry the kind of responsibility I've had. And I do. I love football. But...but if felt like I was dropped in another world my first year on the team. Without my cousins on the field with me, without my uncles loud as hell in the stands, or my dad going over plays with me after my games...”

His hand was still absentmindedly caressing me when I open my eyes, turning to him, watching the dark scruff of his profile while he talked.

“--everything was so different here, baby. Everyone was acting like they knew me or like they knew what was best for me but I could tell they only wanted what was best for themselves. But I still had everyone counting on me. I had all these new friends but no one I could really trust, I didn’t know how to handle it. All of those friendships felt fake, even my relationship felt forced at times. I got overwhelmed and felt weak when started I falling behind. I started to spiral when I couldn’t keep up with all of the work. I started drinking more than I should have, missing practices, missing class… In the summer when I got injured...I--I actually hoped that it was enough to put me out of the game. That it was finally the end of it all.”

God, I love him so much.

The feeling is overwhelming and all consuming and I’m rubbing at his arm before I know that I’m doing it.

I’d teared up again so I'm grateful when I notice he's not looking at me. Instead his eyes are trained on some trophy on his desk next to a framed photo of about twenty or so people. His hand is still moving on my thigh. I want him to tell me more, to tell me what happened, but I'm so afraid of what I'm feeling already that I decide to kiss him gently and tell him I was finally going to go take that shower.

I cry under the safety of the hot running water as I wash the scent of Matteo off of my body. Feeling like what I needed to wash away couldn’t be cleaned with soap and water. The shock of my epiphany slowly wears off, releasing my mind from it’s choke-hold enough for me analyze the situation and begin to form a plan. Perhaps I was looking at it all wrong, maybe talking to Matteo was exactly what I needed to do.

~*~

“Why did you cheat on Nicole?” I ask, chewing the last of a cheesy slice of pizza, dropping the crust back in the box.

We’re sitting on the leather couch and I’m in one of Matteo’s tank tops with my hair pulled up into a curly topknot when he looks up at me in surprise.

He recovers quickly, shaking his head at me with wearing that stupid, beautiful smirk. “So, we’re just coming out and asking the hard questions now, is that it?”

I shrug, a shy smile playing at my lips. After thinking about it in the shower, I realized that Matt and I never truly got to know each other beneath the surface level. We tended to stray away from uncomfortable territories. The only part of myself I trusted, rational part, knew that if we tried, it would probably help bring me back to my senses.

”I’m curious.” I say.

Matteo chews thoughtfully at the last of what had to be at least his fourth slice, swallowing as he nodded. “Alright, but if I answer that, then you have to tell me how you found out about my injury.”

I stop, meeting his eyes, in the process of wiping my fingers on a napkin. I didn’t want to have to tell him about that or deal with the relentless teasing that would without a doubt result from it, but guess it was a sacrifice I was going to have to make.

I give him a lash fluttering eye roll, tasting pizza as I lick oily residue from my lips. “Alright. Fine.”

He sucks sauce from his thumb with a cocky half smile hanging on his lips. It doesn’t keep me from noticing how he takes his time closing the pizza box and wiping his hands on his own napkin before answering. Almost like he's stalling.

Matteo sighs heavily, and I can feel the weight of it. The part of me that loves him feels bad for making him tell me this, but for the rational side of me I really needed to know.

Matt cleared his throat. “I don’t know what she told you, but I’m not going to make any excuses.” He starts, leaning back against the sofa. I let his heavy arm pull me into him as I listen intently.

“She was the first woman I can say I really loved, so I’ll always care about Nicole. But we--” He sighs through his nose, scratching at the growing stubble on his jaw. “--we were over way before we made it official.”

I try and soothe his discomfort, caressing a hand over the expanse of his chest. “What do you mean?”

“We didn’t love each other anymore, Mora.” He says. “Things had fizzled out between us before the beginning of junior year. We barely spent time together, we rarely had sex, I even brought up ending it then, but she didn’t seem to want to. I remember her blowing up on me. Saying how I was letting the football stardom go to my head. How she was there for me before I started attracting all of this pro-ball attention. And for the most part she was right, so I felt like I owed it to her to try.”

“So what happened?” I ask, trying to put ‘so how did that lead to sleeping with her sister?’ in gentler terms.

“Nothing really changed. Looking back, I don’t think there was ever a chance at salvaging that relationship. She had already seen me at my worst. I didn’t understand why she wanted to stick around. I think it was for the status, the attention that came with being the starting QBs girl. I mean, she deserved it I guess, for putting up with all of my shit. But our relationship was pretty much dead after that. We stopped spending time together, stopped having sex. I really thought she would wanna end it if I acted like it was already over, but it took a year for her to let it all go.”

My hand continues smoothing circles into his chest as the weight of his words settled into me. I didn’t know what to believe. I couldn’t get the conversation with Nicole at the party out of my head. She said he was a great guy, even after telling everyone he was outrageously unfaithful to her. It wasn’t adding up. I needed a tie breaker.

“What about all of that stuff with her sister? Was that true too?”

I felt his chest falling as he laughs an amused “No.”

“No?” I ask

He shakes his head with another chuckle “No, baby.”

I give him a confused look, being sure to let my hand continue caressing over his chest. “Why would Nicole say that? It makes her look horrible.”

“Well… Steph definitely came onto me. It was completely random. During Thanksgiving. I don’t know why. I think they have a rivalry thing or some shit. I don't fuckin’ know. But she sent me all of these crazy pictures one night, I didn’t know how to handle it so I just… didn’t. I ignored her. But there was no telling Nicole that after she went through my phone. It pissed me off, but I got over it. I mean, it wasn’t like I had been acting like we were still together so I could understand why.”

I let my hand wander up to run across the stubble on his jaw. Matteo turns to me, looking down as I caressed at the rough texture of his facial hair and ask, “So why haven’t you ever tried to set the record straight? Everyone thinks you're just some asshole that fucked with her feelings.”

He drew in a deep breath, letting his other hand move to my thigh, holding me in a lazy embrace. “I don’t know. Because that’s how it looked to everyone else? Yeah, I resented her for using me for social status and shit, but I also slept around knowing everyone still thought we were committed to each other. I knew how much her reputation meant to her, everyone already had their own opinions anyway. I didn’t think it was necessary to embarrass her even more.”

My heart hurt for him, and for Nicole, but mainly for him. Even when he felt like his whole world was falling apart, he still cared about what Nicole wanted at the expense of himself. Granted he got himself into the situation, still there was something about it that hit a soft spot with me.

My plan had backfired and I knew it. Because all I wanted right now was to kiss him and I did.

~*~

“I’m sorry.” Matteo laughs, “You did what?”

We were naked in his bed when Matteo finally remembered that I owed him a few answers.

“I snuck into the office in the PT room to check if you had a medical record of your injury.” I say again, shrugging feeling shameless in my post coital bliss.

Matteo's laughter was deep and loud in my ear, quaking my head against his chest. I have to bite through a smile because, even though he was laughing at my expense, it was kind of ridiculous when I said it out loud.

“I was stuck in there for over a half hour, but that’s also how I found out about you and the physical therapist. I caught you two when I was trying to sneak out.”

I had to lift my head from his chest when he began laughing harder, unable to hold back the broad smile splitting my face. I swear I even see him brush away a small tear when he finally begins to sober up. “Fuck, Mora. You really are full of surprises, baby. How did you even get in?”

“I stole Mickey’s keycard and used it to get into the office. The PT room was already open.” I shrug again. That really takes him out. I rarely ever get to see him like this, so I don’t let the fact that I don’t think it’s that funny dampen my mood.

“Laugh all you want, but I got what I wanted.” I say with a small smirk, pulling myself up to kiss him.

He hums softly into my lips, winding an arm around my waist. He holds me into him as he rolls us over before pulling away from me. “Did you?” He asks, nipping gently at my lip.

I brush a few hairs that had fallen from his bun away his face. God he was gorgeous and he was on top of me, kissing me, and--just a few minutes ago--biting into my neck as he came inside of me. “I mean, yeah.” I breathe. Then I feel too obvious, too in love, getting lost in his eyes so I say, “Nicole was right, the sex with you is pretty damn amazing.”

He nuzzles into my neck, planting a soft kiss between my neck and shoulder. “It’s so fucking weird that you and her are friends. And I really don’t like that you two talk about me.” He mumbles, his voice sounding muffled in my skin.

I squirm with a laugh at the tickle of his lips “What can I say? You’re an interesting topic.” My stomach flutters when I feel myself going off track like a runaway train.

“She thinks you have feelings for me you know.”

He doesn’t seem as stunned as I was when I first heard it as he kisses along my collarbone, even smiling slightly against my shoulder. “Does she now?” He says, without an ounce of genuine curiosity in his tone.

“She used to think I had feelings for everyone. But I gotta say, for once, she might be onto something.”

I was walking on a tightrope and I knew it, but I was so close. I needed to hear him tell me that he felt something for me too. “So it’s true then? Does Matteo Ano has a crush on me?”

His deep chuckling rumbles against my skin as his hand slides between the mattress and my backside to squeeze the supple flesh into his palm. “What can I say?” He mocks me, “You this ass of yours caught my attention.”

“When?” I couldn’t help it, I wasn’t even trying to pretend that I was joking with him anymore. I was so fucking addicted. Love really did make you do crazy things.

“First day I met you.”

“Bullshit Ano,” I say, smacking lightly at his shoulder, that would have been..crazy. That it was possible that the two of us might have actually had a chance had things been different that day. Had I been different.

“It’s true.” He laughs, pulling back to look down at me. “You had this cute ass attitude and you were wearing that tight black skirt... I'm not gonna lie, I got a little hard watching you storm away.” He grinned.

“You’re disgusting.” I say, laughing. I can feel myself throb at his words but I was starting to feel sore between my legs and didn’t want to let him get me riled up again.

He kisses me, “Didn’t stop you from coming for me, though, did it princess?”

I give him a blank stare, he was so sexually frustrating and relentless.

“Don’t call me princess.”

“I’ll call you what I want to babygirl.”

“Ew, seriously call me babygirl again and I’m going home.” I smile even though I’m still thoroughly enjoying the feel of his lips back on my neck.

I’m covered in passion marks and I know it, because it hurts-- but so fucking good-- when he grazes my skin with his teeth. “Mm, you’re not going anywhere babygirl. Not when I finally got you where I want you.”

“In your bed?”

His arms tighten around me. “Like this, with me.” He corrects.

“You weren’t exactly singing the same tune when I first asked you about the contract.“ I remind him, with a lift of my eyebrow. I’m having mixed feelings, sending mixed signals, thinking mixed thoughts.

“I mean... you’re fucking gorgeous, baby. But you gotta admit you were kind of a bitch.”

“Only kind of?” I ask, amusement in my tone, secretly wondering how long I’d been going easy on him. How long I’ve been in love. “Besides I was under the impression that you liked a challenge.”

He rolls away from me, slinging an arm to pull me into him with an amused hum. “I do. It wasn’t that I didn’t want you, believe me, all I could think about after when you went off on me about those damn notes that day was fucking that attitude right out of you. But I respected you, Mora. Like I said before, not a lot of people are real with me and you were. Too fucking real, honestly. I just--I hated knowing you didn’t seem to have any respect for me.”

My stomach felt unsettled with a sour mixture of half digested pizza and guilt. “What made you change your mind about it?”

His fingers play at a silent piano along my spine, “Truthfully? I really needed those answers. And I knew that if I didn’t do it, you would probably just go and ask some other guy.”

I kiss softly into his shoulder, I didn’t know for sure if I could say he was wrong. I probably might have. I was getting desperate for a release, and once I had the idea for the contract it felt like the perfect way to go about losing my virginity after so many failed past attempts.

“My turn,” He says, looking down at me. “What’s up with the whole ‘I love you’ thing?”

“I didn’t know this was a 21 questions thing.” I bite back at him, even though this whole thing was kind of my idea.

I feel my cheeks heat up as I smooth a hand over his peck feeling the beat of his heart against my palm. “I told you, I grew up in the system. I didn't get to hear it alot growing up.” I say anyway, focusing on the beat of his pulse.

“I feel like I work really hard and no one appreciates it. Nothing makes me feel better than hearing those words.” I finish,and it’s weird saying it out loud. Especially to Matteo, but we had shared so much already tonight and I knew it was the only moment we would have like this, so it also felt alright.

“Not even from your birth parents?” He asks, his hand flattening against the small of my back.

“From--from my mother, yeah, I guess. Before she got admitted.” I try to shrug, feeling myself growing awkward.

“Have you spoken since, you know, they took you from her?”

I shake my head knowing he can feel it against his chest, the question wasn’t expected. “She never tried to find me.”

I feel him shift a bit, like he’s trying too look down at me. “How do you know?”

I start to get annoyed, I don’t really want to talk about this. “Because I waited to hear from her for years and got nothing. You don't know how she could be sometimes, she probably doesn’t even remember me.”

His hand begins rubbing circles into my back, hearing the sharpening in my tone. “I’m just saying, what makes you think she hasn’t been trying to find you? If you changed your name and shit?”

I never really thought about it that way. To be honest I tried not to think about my birth parents at all. It brought up all kinds of useless debilitating emotions. “You’ve asked more than one question. So if we’re doing the questions thing technically it’s my turn.” I say quickly, in desperate need of a subject change.

“What--um…” I feel more embarrassed about this than the previous question but it’s worth it to change the subject and lighten the mood. “What did you do to me earlier...w-with--uh-- with your fingers on the um..on the couch?”

He laughs and I hate how embarrassed it makes me feel, but I love the sound of it shattering through the tension brought on by the topic of my adoption.

“What? When I massaged your g-spot? You liked that, huh babygirl? You want me to do it again?”

I bite my lip shyly, looking up at him. My eyes meet his and they’re lit with a mischievous gleam. A nipple hardening shudder slithers along my spine. Fuck it, I was already sore, what could one more mind shattering orgasm hurt?

“Maybe,” I say in a small voice.

He rolls onto his side, moving a large hand to cup between my legs, the dull ache and throb it causes feels thrilling and sends my blood racing. “Say you’ll come to my game on Saturday.”

I roll my eyes, but catch myself because if I was going to win this one I was going to have to use a different approach. I cup a hand into the scruff on his face, pouting as I blinked up at him. “Matt, baby, I really don’t want to.”

When he smirks and huffs a laugh I can tell he doesn’t buy it. “I don’t care, babygirl.” His head turns as he sears a slow kiss into my wrist. “Say you’ll go and I’ll make you come.”

I refuse to admit that the sound I just made was an actual whine. But if it was it was I don’t want to be judged because Matteo wasn’t playing fair and was slowly teasing at my clit with his fingers.

“Matteo,” I moan, feeling him apply a bit more pressure to the lazy circles he drew on my sensitive bud.

“Say it Mora.”

I sigh out a moan. “God, I’ll go to your fucking game.”

~*~

“How’d your Orgo exam go?”

“I don’t know.” I sigh dropping my bag to the floor, collapsing down into the cushioning of the couch.

The was a pause.

“What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?....And why the hell are you walking that that?”

It was around lunchtime the next day and I was still in the halter dress from yesterday. I had been on a malfunctory autopilot since waking up fifteen minutes before I was supposed to take my Organic Chemistry midterm. I could barely pay attention to he flashcards I had stowed away with a bottle lube and a pair of unwearable panties. The entire morning felt like a blur. I hadn’t even noticed that I had zoned out, let alone how long I’d been out of it until I feel a drop of wetness splatter on the hand still holding a lead pencil over a blank scantron in a half empty classroom.

I wasn’t proud when I was forced to bring up my scantron in the middle of double checking my answers because I had run out of time. Professor Nguyen even grabbed my hand in her own when I laid my scantron face down on her desk and asked if I was okay.

I wasn’t. I was fucking devastated.

So when I tell my roommate that I don’t know how my final went I really didn’t know. And what was worse was the fact that I really didn’t care. I was at war with myself and I knew that in the worst case scenario I would still pass the class with an 89.93 percentage. And I was walking like this because my hunger for more orgasms had severely impaired my ability to estimate the after-effects of a ridiculously sized penis after three rounds of sex.

“I had sex with Matteo last night.” I explain because I know it’s faster explanation than telling Mickey all of that.

She fucking screams, startling me, and runs from the kitchen to bounce down beside me on the couch.

“What?! It actually happened? Oh my god, Mora! How did it go down? How was it? Did you come? Was it good? Was it bad? It was him on Nicole’s phone wasn’t it? That’s, like, advanced level dick bitch, are you okay?”

I want to say I don’t know why, because I’m not really sure but I’m not surprised when I start to cry. I’d been holding it in all day like a struggling dam. Tears spill from my eyes in a way they haven’t since I was a child, and I feel like I can’t breathe when my throat trembles when I try to inhale. I can’t breathe through my sobs and I feel broken, dysfunctional, pathetic, and lost.

“Hey, honey, what happened? What’s going on?” Michaela’s voice sounds like honey, or a blanket or something when she wraps her arms around me.

“I-I think I l-l-love him, Mick!” It comes out as a loud thick wail when I finally force the words out. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

Our roles feel reversed as she hugs me into her and rubs at my shoulder. “Aw, Mora. What’s so bad about that? He makes you happy. I’ve never seen you the way you’ve been this last month.”

I shake my head, her words feel like knives. I don’t want to make the ugly sound I'd just made when I spoke just now so I wait until the second wave of sobs die out before trying to speak again. “There’s no way we can be together Mick. Nothing good can come out of feeling this way for h-him. It’s not fair! I’ve never felt this good before. It’s not fair that I have to choose between being happy now or being hurt later.”

“You can’t know that, Mora. You haven’t even given him a chance.”

“I can’t give him a fucking chance!” I startle the both of us when I shout. I can’t help it. Did she think I didn’t want to? I wouldn’t be falling apart in front of her like this if it was really that simple.

“Best case, we make these last couple of months the best of my life, and then we separate and we try our best to piece together some kind of relationship between our busy schedules and inevitably fail. Worst case we fucking ruin each other. It would be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done to try and make something work with him. Everything good is always temporary. I’m so exhausted Michaela. Fuck! Why don’t I ever get to be happy? Why can’t I have something good for once?”

She’s quiet and I think it’s because she doesn’t know what to say. I don’t think there’s anything she could say. So she holds me until I eventually I cry myself out.

~*~*~

It’s been days since I last saw Matteo but it felt like months.

I couldn’t bring myself to go to his game. I couldn’t even bring myself to answer the texts he’d sent since Sunday. They came few and far between but still managed to get under my skin. Matteo knew it was midterm week, so it made me assume that he was trying not to disturb me too much, which also made me hate myself for how perfect everything he did seemed to feel to me. How was it that even the things he didn’t do managed to show me how much he cared?

All of it builds into some kind of disgusting emotional constipation. Leaving me feeling internally gross, bloated, and uncomfortable. It had been a full week since my break down and somehow I still haven’t quite recovered. To be honest, I was starting to think that I never would. What bothered me the most is the fact that I-- Mora Fucking Chase --had gotten this way in the first place.

Sex had definitely been the release I’d been searching for. I was right about that. Being in love and feeling loved in return was better than I could have ever imagined. But the scalding truth was that I had been so caught up in the belief that feeling it was something I could never have, that I never stopped to think about why things may have been that way in the first place.

Love was a dangerous thing for people like me. People that never really had the chance to truly feel it.

We were special in that regard, because loving and be loved is something a person’s supposed to learn to do early in life. If you were one of the unlucky ones who never had the chance to learn to deal with those kinds of feelings, the euphoria of it would eat you alive. I’ve never done heroin or crystal meth but I still believed what I felt was just as lethally additive. The empty black hole of need that had grown inside me was nothing compared to the pain of loving someone I could never truly have.

It was a hard pill to swallow but I knew now that it was a fact that I wasn’t ever meant to love or be loved the way everyone else was.

I just wasn’t made that way. I was fucked up. Far more than I’d ever even realized. The only way people like me could show and experience love was through working and helping and leading and comforting in a way normal people couldn’t. Not thorough physical affection or intimacy. Things like that were far too soul consuming and complex for people like me to understand.

I missed Matteo, of course. I felt empty without him.

But I was a smart girl.

I knew the ache of missing him was nothing compared to the crushing blow of actually seeing him. It hurts when his texts stop coming. Even after I tell myself to remember how this feels, to learn from it, that this pain was minor compared to what it could have been had we tried to take the easy way out and be together.

Thinking like that was rough, but it was the only thing getting me through the days. A week drug by slowly but I made it through by constantly facing that harsh reality.

So now I’m sitting across from McCullough as he grades through exams, a school issued laptop perched on his large desk between us. A restricted version of his gradebook illuminates the bottom half of my face as I flip through stacks of scantrons making sure the red percentages on them all matched the grades on the screen. It’s already 7:30, way past the time I should have left, but it was only Monday and I knew--after throwing myself full force back into my routine to avoid Matteo--that I was ahead enough to spare a couple extra hours.

That and the fact that swapping exam grading with another TA for my Friday review session would minimize any chance I had of seeing Matteo Ano.

I’m putting aside the last of the incorrect scantrons from the Monday exams when I notice that there’s a gap in the pattern. “Dr. McCullough? I think you forgot to run the all of the scantrons from Tuesday classes through the grade scanner.” I say, even fanning through a stack of exam answers from the corresponding Thursday lectures to make sure I wasn’t wrong. They were all missing the red ink from the scantron grading machine.

“And the Thursday classes too.” I add.

He snatches off his glasses, rubbing at the bridge of his nose before signing into his hand, “Ah yes. You’re absolutely right Ms. Chase. I left them in the office Thursday afternoon. I knew there was something I was supposed to do before we got started.”

I rolled my eyes to myself. Going back to my old way of life didn’t reset how I felt about McCullough. He grew more and more incompetent to me every second we spent together.

“Do you want me to skip ahead to Wednesday classes?” I ask, flexing my stiff fingers.

“Yes. Yes I think that would be wise Ms. Chase. I’ll go run these through the scanner.” He says, standing and gesturing for the ungraded tests.

My brow is furrowed as I hand them to him. “Are you sure? The the scanner and copy machine are both still out of ink.” I remind him. We both know that at this time the only other room in the building with the proper office equipment was locked at this time of night.

McCullough sighs like he didn’t know that but still says, “The one in the next building over has a key card lock. If I scan them there I shouldn’t be long. Start on Wednesday’s exams.” He orders, leaving before I can ask for the scantrons from Wednesday.

I drag my hands down my face before groaning loudly into them. It takes ten full minutes to fight off my annoyance. I know I have the time. There’s no way McCullough could run a hundred and seventy four scantrons through the grader in less than an hour. So I take all of the time I need to pull it together and talk myself into powering through the rest of the graded exams.

“It’s good to see you, babygirl.”

I’m just pulling out a thick stack of scantrons from Wednesday when a familiar deep baritone stiffens my spine. Chills spill across my skin and I don’t know whether to entertain the bubbly excitement or the dread the sound of his voice stirs up in me.

My jaw feels paralyzed when I whip around to see Matteo ducking into McCullough’s office. He leans against the door frame, a half smile lifting his lips his fingers claw into his hair, pushing it away from his face before he crosses his arms and I don’t know what to hate about this first.

The fact that he looked so good with his dark hair swept over his shoulder looking like it was still drying after a shower or that he seemed so calm and casual with an easy smirk in his fitted sweats and tank. I settled on how good it feels just to seem him. Because I feel horrible at the same time. We both knew I’ve been avoiding him and now here we are.

I swallow, shutting down, going robotic when I turn back to the stacks of scantron paper.

“Why are you here Matteo?” I ask. My tone doesn’t sound as cold as my words do. I try to curve them with my genuine curiosity.

“I wanted to ask McCullough about my grade on the midterm last week.” He says.

I swallow again. “Grades should be posted on Friday.”

I pull out the stack of Wednesday exams and turn back to him, simply because it would be weird if I continued avoiding it.

He smiles. My stomach sinks. He’s looking at me like he’s not the least bit affected by my aloof demeanor. Like he expected this out of me. My body reacts and for some reason I feel some kind of fucked up muscle memory of what his hips felt like grounding in between my thighs.

“Yeah, I know but a guy on the team told me he told them their grade, and all I had to do was ask.”

I know it’s better to just give in, that it was probably true especially since I saw Mickey’s boyfriend (not Sam, unfortunately, the blonde from the party with the fucked up ACL) coming out of his office when I arrived earlier.

“Alright.” I sigh, closing my laptop, dropping the stack of scantrons on top of it. “What time is your class?” I ask, moving behind McCullough’s desk.

If I remembered correctly Matteo’s calc lectures fell on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which probably wasn’t graded yet, so I would have to use McCullough’s computer to see it.

“10:15-12:00.” He says, and I promise just the sound of his voice has a shiver shaking my shoulders.

It takes me a second to learn how to switch between classes but eventually I find Tuesday at 10:15 AM.

“Okay, Ano. It doesn’t look like he has your exam graded yet but McCullough should be back t-to--to--um…” I stammer, trying my best to form my words as I feel Matteo behind me. His hands slide to meet around the small of my waist.

“Ma-Matteo...” I’m not only tongue tied from seeing him, or smelling his cologne, or having him touching me. I’m also tongue tied because his large hands are startlingly warm on my thighs and because he’s sliding them upwards, bringing the hem of my pencil skirt with them.

“You didn’t come to my game.” He says. His voice startlingly close. The tip of his nose trails from the dip where my neck meets my shoulder to the shell of my ear.

“I--I um--I know. Heard you won, though. I’m sorr-”

“You haven’t responded to my texts…” He continues, pressing a kiss into my neck, just below my ear.

“I’m--I’m sorry, about...about that. Seriously. I just got busy…” I don’t know what to do. I mean, I know what to do, but I don’t know how to make myself do it.

Matteo was really here with me. Right now. Kissing me, touching me. I loved it, and I knew I shouldn't. I had to make it stop, but I wanted this and didn't have the self control to do it. I thought I would be grading tests tonight, I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready at all.

“I know you’re busy, babygirl.” His thumbs slip into the hem of my panties. “But I’m not gonna lie, it hurt when I didn’t see you there.” It isn’t until they’re sliding down my thighs that I come to my senses. Matteo was talking to me like he wasn’t undressing me. It made me feel like he was toying with me. This wasn’t fair. What I did wasn’t fair either, but this really wasn’t fair.

“Look, that wasn’t my intention, alright?” I say, stepping out of my panties as I could turn to face him. His hands are still steady on my hips when I look up at him and his eyes are clear and icy, already waiting for mine.

“I know, baby. I just really missed you is all.” He says, softly and when his words constrict my chest I can’t help but feel a need to make it up to him when his lips fall onto mine.

I missed him too. Fuck did I miss him. I needed him to know that. It’s the only excuse I have as to why I sigh so desperately into his kiss and snake my arms over his shoulders. This wasn’t fucking easy for me. Nothing ever was, but doing the right thing was my specialty. I never realized until Matt how valuable that trait really was. I had to do this for the both of us. It was because of him, how I felt for him, how I never wanted to hurt him that gave me the sense of mind to pull away just as our tongues swirl lazily in each others mouths.

“Matt we…y-you...we--” My words and my breaths are trembling and jumbled. I want to say ‘you know we can’t’ but I don’t know if he really knows that. I don’t even know if I know that. There’s something about the pain in my voice, though. The way I say his name that clues him in.

“What are you afraid of Mora? What is it, baby? What can I do? I know you know how I feel about you, and I may not be as smart as you are, but I know you at least feel something for me too.”

“Of course I have feelings for you Matteo,”

I fucking love you, I want to say.

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“Because we can’t afford to have feelings for eachother.”

There, I said it. I don’t expect it when I feel a single sharp laugh breathe into the crook of my neck, “It’s way too late for that, babygirl. I told you things I’ve never told anyone before.” He says, pulling back to meet my eyes.

I see it in them then. His eyes are like a mirror of pain I’ve been afraid of feeling this whole time. He knew it too. That we were doomed from the beginning, but he still wanted this, for some reason, he still wanted me.

“I--I know. Me too, Matteo.” I say, tripping over my words as I watch him watch his thumb drag over the sensitive skin of my lip. “But--”

“But what?” He asks, unmercifully kissing a slow trail up the column of my neck. “But you don’t miss me? But you’re able to get me out of your mind? But you’ve been able to forget how good I make you feel?”

I want to say no. I even need him to know how far from the truth that really is, but I can’t force myself form words. I can’t. Not when he’s biting me, when he’s groping my ass, when he’s licking gently at the puckered skin where his teeth were just sinking into my skin. I want to say no but I it comes out as a moaning sigh.

“You might have been able to do all of that baby. But I haven’t. I’ve missed you everyday, Mora. I’ve been wanting you so fucking badly. Needing you.”

I know what’s best for the both of us. I’m not afraid to say it. I know how to avoid breaking my own heart. Most importantly I know the best way to show Matteo how much I really love him is to deprive myself, to deprive the both of us of what we think we want. Except when I hear him say that. How much he needs me. Me. I’m suddenly weak. I completely shatter and reform into whatever he wanted me to be. Matteo needed me and I would rather die than let him down, so press my lips into his in a heated kiss.

Our lips close together like we were made for one another. We moan at the same time, high and deep like a synchronized melody of longing and need. His skin feels feverish beneath my palms as they move over his solid shoulders, feeling the muscles in his arms shift when he pulls my body flush against his own.

“I need you baby,” He repeats, his voice a soft gravel in my ear. It’s a barely audible whisper, but it’s enough to trigger a sob--of need and hurt--to shake in my chest. “Right now.”

“Baby--”I plead, I can’t deny him. I can’t. Fuck he didn’t understand how badly I needed him too. But we couldn’t do this. Right here? In McCullough’s office? We would only be making things worse. I don’t know what to say, so I turn back to the desk, doing my best to blink away the hot tears pooling in my eyes. Still, Matteo’s hands are relentless on my body, which all of a sudden feels so perfectly plump and wonderfully sensuous as he pulls me back into his tall solid frame.

Twin trails of heat circle the front my thighs as his hands meet just a little below the apex of them. He squeezes tightly making my legs tremble in his grasp beneath the bunched fabric of my skirt. If he notices, which I’m sure he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Do you need me baby?”

You would think the way I shudder at his words would be an answer on it’s own. Or the way my nipples press through my bra into a peak in the thin fabric of my fitted white button down. But for some reason he doesn’t see that.

“Didn’t you miss me baby?” He asks.

The way my breath quickens as his fingers ghost over my pussy lips should tell him how much I did, but I muster up all the strength in my body to say, “God, yes. Alright? Fuck Matteo. I need you. But you know we can’t do this here.“

Somehow he thinks I’m unaffected. Either that or he’s punishing me.

Because his tongue trails the shell of my ear, his fingers sliding between my dampening folds, before I hear the deep velvet of his smooth voice mumbling, “I know what you want, Mora baby. I know how to get you wet for me, princess.”

I shudder against him, sucking my lip into my mouth, moaning desperately “Oh god. Matteo t-that’s not fair. Oh--fuck--baby.”

His lips are warm against my throat again as he plants heated wet kisses up my neck. “Would you get wet if I told you that I loved you? Is that want you want babygirl? You want me to say I love you?”

I love him and I fucking hate him. I hate him and I love him so much. So much that I don’t even know which part of me arches my back to circle the swell of my ass into his hardness, so much that I don’t know which part of me grits my teeth and vows never to forgive him for this. So much that I don’t even know where it comes from when I moan a breathy, “Yes.”

I don’t have time to react before his lips are on mine again. Hungry with passion and a need that buckles my knees. The sound I make for him is wanton and pleading enough that I’m not even embarrassed when Matteo has to catch me at my hips to hold me steady. He tastes so fucking good when our tongues swirl together, because for a while I didn’t think I’d get the chance to feel how good it felt ever again. I don’t even realize how close I am to coming until he sinks two fingers into my dripping passageway and I completely come undone.

The sound that comes out of my mouth is shocking to even me when I feel myself clenching around Matteo’s thick, long, teasing fingers. He’s doing that thing I like that makes my legs shake. My resolves breaks like a struggling dam, all of my strength crumbling into fragmented bits and pieces as I start babbling incoherently, my filter entirely disintegrating into nothingness.

“HolyFuckingFuck. Oh my-- God. Matteo--please baby--I’m sorry--I’m so sorry--baby please don’t stop--I need you too baby. I want you to fuck me until you forgive me.”

His teeth sink into the supple skin on the side of my neck as he groans, slowing his fingers through my climax.

“Jesus, baby, look at you.” His voice is guttural and rough right in my ear, and it has me gushing and clenching around his fingers. He pulls them out of me, bending me over McCullough’s desk. I quickly flip his laptop closed beneath me and I feel the sting his his hand swiping a hard smack over my right ass cheek. I feel a searing burn as it jiggles from the impact and I cry out and moan all at once at the sensation. “So fucking sexy.” He growls, his splayed fingers sinking tightly into my hips.

I don’t feel the jostle of him moving, I don’t even hear the quiet shuffle of clothing. All I feel is the hard unforgiving wood of the desk as my fingers curl around the edge of it once Matteo sheathes himself fully inside of me.

I cry out at the same time he releases a long loud groan.

“This what you need babygirl?” His voice grates intro my skin as he begins moving against me. Dragging his thick length out of my wet pulsating core long and slow, the plumpness of my ass rippling with every hard snap of his hips back into mine. “Is this all you want from me?”

It wasn’t. It really wasn't’. But fuck it was good. This was so, so good. Every thrust sent shocks of pleasure trailing all the way down my legs, curling my toes.

I’m still trying to regain my composure, already ascending to another orgasm with my fingers curled around the edge of the large desk as he fucks me. His fingers indent my thigh as he coaxes my knee up onto the desk. I feel his plunge so deep I moan loudly every time he bottoms out inside of me.

My lungs compulsively force out a breath as he hits that spot inside of me that drives me to damn near insanity. I can’t help the sounds I make at the thought of someone catching us they way I caught him in the PT room and wishing they were me the way I did.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

My body lurches with every hard slap of Matt’s hips into my own, and it isn’t long before I’m flooding and pulsing around him as the earth shattering threat of another orgasm begins tightening in the pit of my stomach.

“Pussy’s so fucking good, babygirl.” Matt growls.

The sound of it vibrates up my spine, shuddering through my body. I’m so lost in pleasure, so racked with need and so wet that I can hear the sound of our bodies slapping together. “And it’s only fucking mine. Come on me princess. Show me how much you fucking missed this.”

A metal mesh cup holding various pens and highlighters inch to the edge and finally falls, crashing to the floor when I feel my legs buckle under the first heavy wave of pleasure moving through me.

“Oh my god, Matteo. You feel so good. So good baby, god, I missed you. Oh--oh baby--fuck me-- j-just” I sob. “Just like that. Oh, god, Matteo I’m...I’m gonna--”

I fell like I’ve lost my mind. The shock of it all, being in McCullough’s office, being so in love, being fucked like this all combines into one body rocking, soul shaking, reality shattering orgasm that had me I crying out before I can even finish my sentence.

“I love you.”

A second orgasm immediately begins quaking through my body the second he says it. His name falls from my lips in a startled cry as I knock into the laptop and the stack of scantrons scatter over McCullough’s tacky area rug.

“Fuck, Mora baby, I love you.”

My moans become incoherent and I feel lost to the world but I hear myself tell him I love him too and I can only hope he didn’t hear it. I feel warmth flood between my legs and I’m still pulsing around him as he comes. He pulls me up from the surface of the desk, one hand loosely wrapped around my neck and the other tightly cupping my breast through my shirt. His voice is deep and rough in my ear, his fingers melding tightly into the swell of flesh as he fucks me through his climax until his deep, hard thrusts slow to a stop.

He collapses into McCullough’s expensive leather chair while I situate my skirt. Everything is tucked back where it should be and I’m just straightening the scattered stack of scantrons against the desk when McCullough returns. Matteo is still slumped in his chair and the pens and highlighters are still spilled across the floor when I whip around at the sound of his voice.

“Ms. Chase, I’m sorry about the…..wait.”

“Dr. McCullough! Um--uh Matteo--Mr. Ano was just stopping by to ask about his midterm grade.”

His eyes look over the mess of pens on the floor then to Matteo slowly licking his lips with a satiated half smile as he rakes a hand through his hair before they make their way back to mine. My heart seizes in my chest, I feel it literally speed up into a concerning tempo, because I can see in his face, clear as day.

McCullough knew exactly what had just happened in his office.

#roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns au #the shield fanfction

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ulqueleleh · 6 years ago

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“Feelings I didn’t know I had” (James and Keith week 2018)

*Cries* Jaith! Jaith! Jaith...!

Written for @jamesandkeith week.

Each day is part of the same story! I recommend to read from the first part, but you can read which ever you want!!!

Day 3: Earth/Sky/Space | James/Keith | 1.2k words | T | On AO3

It was very difficult to meet his eyes. Mostly because the only thing he actually tried to find in them was the darkness of lust that dizzied him. Or the spark of light and hope that he liked to imagine in them. It was so difficult when he always saw them clouded and unfocused, looking down at him with gasps were shaped as his name.

The dreams didn’t stop to torture him every single night. In any case, they were worse than the last one, being more intense, more realistic. So much that he always woke up shivering in the orgasm, his lips murmuring Keith’s name as if it was a mantra.

His perspective changed drastically.

He couldn’t focus on the meetings when he was in the same room as him. He couldn’t stop feeling a weird attraction to the place he was seated. He couldn’t help shoot gazes in his direction and shift in his place what his mind made up to keep him entertained the night before.

It was torture.

And the only thing he could actually do to escape from it was fly.

He adjusted the control one more time, growling at the pull to his fingers, and let the MFE Fighter fall free through the sky, closing his eyes a moment to feel the adrenaline from the free fall; his stomach turning upside down, his mind going light-headed, the rush of blood in his veins beating his heart harder, his ears deafening because of the constant alarm going off.

It was the only way he could get away from his thoughts. From his needs. From his wishes.

From Keith.

“James.”

He scrunched his nose in anger and swallowed up the insult that automatically formed in his tongue, opening his eyes and stabilizing the MFE with a movement.

“Kinkade” he murmured, and resented that it sounded as a warning.

“Your motor isn’t going to last with that stunts you’re pulling off”, Kinkade explained through the private comms, his serious tone sounding like a scold, “You’re being too careless.”

James scoffed, lowering the speed of the turbines and falling to the level Kinkade’s MFE fighter was.

“I’m not being that careless” he excused himself glancing to the data and lifting an eyebrow at a number out of place, “You don’t have to worry.”

“I’ve seen you do that free fall too many times these pasts tests, James” Kinkade commented, “Three times only in this training.”

James rolled his eyes, and hearing Kinkade’s sigh made him know he too was exasperated.

“Evasive maneuvers?” he asked looking to the MFE next to his.

“James...” he heard him try to scold him, but James could hear his smile.

“Catch me if you can, Ryan.”

He accelerated abruptly, leaving his breath in the air behind him with all those filthy thoughts.

He turned nimbly through the clouds, lowering enough to lift dirt from the desert canyons, and he let himself go with the movements, focusing only the needed to not crash. He smiled when he saw Kinkade’s MFE fighter being his shadow, following up and imitating all his moves with precision.

He thought of losing him in a turn, and he put the speed at its maximum, disappearing in a whisper of air.

“James!”

He squinted, blocking out all the scolds Kinkade was trying to make him listen to and focused on dodging all the rocks that threatened to destroy his vehicle, enjoying the speed and adrenaline that only those planes could give to him. He laughed, deafening all the noises that the MFE fighter did in a struggle to follow his commands, and he turned swiftly into a fissure in the canyon wall, twirling and avoiding the rocks and sharp twists that could crash him if he weren’t that skilled.

But even if he wanted to ignore everything the reality tried to put in front of him, even when he wanted to escape every single thing his mind thought in his loneliness for some minutes, the noisy alarm ringing in his ears and the blinking red light blinding his eyes, made him go face to dirt too fast.

Quite literally.

The MFE fighter turned slightly into another direction that he commanded to, and that minimum rotation in the axis took away all his control over his stunts. He cursed trying to get the plane out of the canyons carelessly, and a little hit to the end of one wing with the edge of a rock tilted completely the cabin, the crystal in front of him going directly against the sand.

He was able to turn off the motor before the collision and avoided to crash mortally in the relatively soft surface of the desert, but, even when the blinking red light stopped flashing to his face, the noisy alarms didn’t stop.

He breathed for a moment, his heart beating so loud that could die down the alarm, and far away he could hear Kinkade’s voice, panicked and asking over and over for a signal of life.

“I’m okay. Relax” he groaned finding the button that would open the hatch and let him out of the vehicle, “I told you to shut up.”

Kinkade stuttered a little, and his complains kept going louder and harsher. James rolled his eyes and jumped out of the plane, getting off his helmet roughly and throwing it to the ground just to make him shut the fuck up.

“Shit” he cursed holding his head and looking back at his MFE fighter for any severe damage while he felt Kinkade’s MFE land in a secure distance. He could hear Leifsdottir and Rizavi asking what happened from his helmet but he didn’t care to answer.

Iverson was going to kill him.

He endured the scolding with no words to defend himself, his head hanging from his shoulders and his expression drowned in deception. He could feel everyone stare at him with pity while Iverson vent out at him about every single stupid action he did in every training since a while ago. And just when Iverson scolded Kinkade because he wasn’t firmer with his orders to stop him, James felt nauseous, tightening his fists and closing his eyes in impotence.

Not only he affected his perfect record, but he affected too his team’s, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the irony in the situation, because Keith did exactly that in their days as cadets. At least he actually cared about his team.

“Am I clear, Official Griffin?”

He inhaled deeply and he tried to hide his frustration.

“Yes, sir.”

Something in the peripheric moved and he forgot Iverson was still scolding him when he saw the violet eyes.

He looked at him from a side, his feet directed to the hangar the lions were, and James blamed his terrible luck at being scolded just when Keith decided to go to fly his lion. He saw his mouth tight in something really similar to pity, and he forced himself to take off his eyes from him, putting it in the ground again to focus on the orders Iverson was giving him.

He almost whiplashed himself at one.

“W-what?”

“You heard me clearly, Official” he spitted, “The damage to your MFE wasn’t several and it’ll be fixed in a couple of days. But your incompetence and immaturity in these last days don’t deserve just a warning.”

He felt his blood run cold.

“You’re suspended from the flight test until further notice.”

Shit.

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phbnha-ocau-blog · 6 years ago

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University Representative Leaders

Oh hey, the leaders minus 1 Sorry for being so inactive aaa we actually forgot we had a tumblr here haha have some art!

- mod lan

[EDIT] hi this is mod hub i finally redrew em all so they don’t look that bad anymore lmao

Lanette Francine “Ran” Kastilyo (Grand Duchess)

An apathetic, sullen-looking babyfaced UPinian with a hidden passionate side. Goal-oriented, realistic, and reliable when she wants to be and sort of childish when she doesn't. Takes pride in her petite stature and cute appearance.

Her quirk is Castling, a quirk that can make walls out of a myriad of solid materials. Several walls that vary in size can be put up, but overuse of the quirk leads to nausea.

Eric Junjun Paurom (Momentum Hero: Trajecto)

A charismatic young Atenean well-liked by most with a cheery-seemingly nonchalant attitude. Despite his seemingly easygoing nature and tendency to playfully tease his peers, Eric ends up being the butt of his partner's antics. He has a rather mature and emotionally contemplative side that he prefers to hide from others. From his surname and his spending mannerisms, others seem to speculate he's the heir of a known business conglomerate…?

His quirk is named Action Panel, which can manipulate the matter or space the user is in contact with or connected to what the user is in contact with when the user has strong focus.

Virgilio Romel Ilao (Luminous Hero: Horus)

A reserved, young-looking boy with an intense drive to be a hero only matched by a few. He has few friends due to being easily-agitated, though he has good intentions and fiercely defends those close to him. He tends to be the butt of jokes and is the one keeping some of his eccentric companions in line with his common sense. He is part of the DLSU hero representatives.

His quirk is Light of Ruin, which allows him to solidify light and weaponize it.

Rowena Norte (Earthbound Hero: Gaia)

A relatively friendly and outgoing girl who can be impulsive and overbearing to a fault. Norte is very enthusiastic and ambitious, having big dreams for herself, but admittedly rarely has the discipline to achieve them, though finds ways to compromise. She is one of the UST hero representatives.

Her quirk is called Fissure, which can crack solids that she makes contact with. Though she can control the direction of the cracks, it should always start northwards.

#mod lan #bnha oc #eric paurom #rowena norte #the meme boi is revealed #water biscuts #pyromonarchs #shadow fissure #art by mod hub #character refs #virgilio ilao #light boys #ran kastilyo

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mountphoenixrp · 7 years ago

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We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Song Mino, who is known by no other name; a 24 year old son of Hu Tu. He is a bartender at Dr.Feelgoods and a gardener.

FC NAME/GROUP: Song Minho/Mino - WINNER CHARACTER NAME: Song Mino AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 24 | March 30, 1993 PLACE OF BIRTH: Hang Sơn Đoòng, Vietnam OCCUPATION: - Bartender at Dr. Feelsgood - Gardener in his free-time (for the parks and perhaps your back-yard) HEIGHT: 180cm WEIGHT: 67kg DEFINING FEATURES: Five Tattoos: - “Be Nice” and “Be kind” - an awareness ribbon - “deuteronomy 28:1” - Oxygen (1, 2) - a crown PERSONALITY: - Adventurous; willing to try out new ideas/experiences, to take risks or go to not yet discovered places. - Curious; eager to know or learn something. - Dependable; trustworthy and reliable - Direct; going straight to the point, honest and frank. - Down to earth; has both a practical and realistic approach to life, situations and people. - Fun-loving; light-hearted and lively. Fond of games. - Nature-lover; enjoys to spend time outdoors and in rural areas, loves everything nature related. - Observant; quick to notice or perceive things, likes to watch his surroundings/people. - Practical; skilled at manual tasks. - Practice based; likes to learn new things while doing those things, not out of books. - Solitary; likes to be on his own. -Stubborn; doesn’t quickly change his mind/attitude despite good reason, possesses a lot of determination. - Thrill-seeker; keen to take part in exciting activities which may involve physical risk. - Wanderlust; a strong desire to travel, which can result in him becoming bored quickly of a place. HISTORY: Born at Hang Sơn Đoòng in Vietnam from the Chinese goddess of the earth and an unknown South-Korean man, Mino spent the first twelve years of his life mostly alone with his mother in the biggest cave known to men. Only sporadically leaving his home with his mother to visit a village or city, the goddess of the earth was the boy’s only friend for a long time. Living freely and finding everything his child’s heart desired both in nature and the earth, his wanderlust ultimately urged him to explore the rest of the world. With his mother having taught her free-spirited and fun-loving son everything he had to know in order to survive in the world outside, the young demi-god began his exploration.

Naturally Hu Tu kept an eye on her young son as he so boldly set out to discover the world. It was an eye that kept the thrill-seeking and brazen teenager out of harm’s way for most part. As Mino started his own journey with revisiting the villages and cities his mother had taken him to, slowly the young boy began to explore the still unfamiliar territory. With his mother watching over him until he turned eighteen, Mino made use of the six years of protection he had to the fullest. Discovering new and exotic places all over the globe, while at the same time visiting dazzling cities, soon the teenager was able to act as if he always had been living among people.

Living his life by the saying; ‘I’d rather own a little and see the world than own the world and see a little,’ Mino travelled on his own. Picking up a wide variety of skills (ranging from survival skills as hunting/cooking/tracking to artistic skills as drawing/sculpting) during his travels, the demigod learned the hard way what it meant to love and loose. With his wanderlust dooming him to eventually grow restless and mostly tired of a certain place -and in some cases people- he has left all of the friends he had made on his journey behind. This fact, combined with him having lost contact with his mother ever since the day after his eighteenth birthday, made the demigod appreciate the comfort he was able to find in his own presence and that of the earth around him even more.

Desiring nothing more than to continue his own journey on which he learned what it meant to grow up and more importantly to be alive, Mino was glad he had been taught patience by his mother. For that was a virtue someone definitely needed to possess when they wanted to travel the world and had to grow up while doing it. Celebrating his many victories on his travels and learning from even more of his mistakes, the demigod knew that there was so much more to learn about life itself. And as he strived to feel alive and to honor life and the earth that gave it to him, his feet eventually led him to the city of the gods and demigods. Settling into the buzzing city of Mount Phoenix Mino began on yet another chapter of his never ending journey.

PANTHEON: Chinese CHILD OF: Hu Tu POWERS: Able to control soil, rocks and dirt. Think Earthbending style from Avatar – Reference – You can see him as one of the standard earthbenders. Naturally Mino won’t be able to move large boulders/mountains or create caves/mountains/major earthquakes or changes to the landscape etc.

STRENGTHS: - He can create various shapes (balls/spikes/walls/pillars/triangles/letters/human and animal shapes etc.) out of earth or draw them into the earth. - Make the surface of stone or earth sharper or smoother. - Levitating nearby pieces of stone or earth and able to propel them. - Compress large chunks of earth into smaller ones, or put together various small pieces into one larger chunk. - Create some sort of armor of stone/earth around his body or about certain body parts. (Boots/gauntlets made of stone) - Send vibrations/waves through the earth that throws others off balance. (Can also lift up a part of the earth to make someone trip) - Create minor earthquakes/fissures.

WEAKNESSES: - Unable to create/generate earth or transform existing objects into earth. - Has to be in contact with earth to use his ability. - Weak against erosion caused by water, ice or air. - Not able to control artificial/synthetic/alien material, glass or metal.

LOCKED ABILITIES: - Seismic Sense: Able to sense the vibrations through the ground “seeing” by sensing his surroundings and making a mental image of it. - Earth Tunneling: He can create a tunnel underneath the ground where he can move through.

#kpop rp #krp #winner #song mino #winner mino #mp; welcome

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dragontrailz · 8 years ago

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Fukushima, Fracking and Nuclear in the UK - a toxic brew

This was originally written in March 2017 and was updated February 2019.

Tomorrow will be the 6th anniversary of the ongoing Fukushima nuclear disaster - the planet’s worst nuclear accident to date. Fukushima and the Chernobyl catastrophe, which occurred at Pripyat in Ukraine in 1986, are the only two accidents classified as level 7 on the International Nuclear Event Scale.

Many are unaware how bad the fallout from Fukushima has been to date. Since the initial burst of news, that followed the earthquake and tsunami, which led to the catastrophe at Fukushima Daiichi, the crisis has been under-reported here in the UK and in Japan. Shinzo Abe’s government have carefully controlled the media narrative, even going so far to say that the fear of radiation and the evacuations are causing stress and deaths, not the radiation itself. There is even a word for this, radiophobia! People are being told that it’s safe to live in areas with recordings of 20 milliSieverts a year. By comparison, in Chernobyl areas between 1-5 mSv/yr were evacuated. Before Fukushima, the law considered 1mSv/yr to be the maximum exposure limit in Japan.

Meanwhile, hundreds of tonnes of radioactive water a day continue to leak into the Pacific Ocean, while nuclear debris is disposed into black plastic bags, that stretch out and pile up along the coast and around schools and houses. The intention is to find a more permanent home for this waste by 2020 and wrap up the clean up before the Tokyo Olympics that year. However, that date does look symbolic and optimistic. Shaun Burnie, a senior nuclear specialist at Greenpeace Germany, who is based in Japan, has described the task ahead as “unprecedented and almost beyond comprehension” and that plans to decommission the plant were “never realistic or credible”.

Tokyo Electric Power Company (Tepco), who own the site, have attempted to surround the site with an ice wall - salt water cooled to -30C to a depth of 30m, passing through pipes underground, which freeze the soil around them. However, fissures in the porous bedrock allow the deadly contamination to continue to leak into the ocean. Around 900,000 tonnes of toxic water remain in tanks on site, with no clear strategy of how to process or dispose of it. The continuing ecological catastrophe should have rang alarm bells within the UK establishment and forced us onto a more sensible path.

However, the UK government’s crazed future energy strategy seems to revolve around nuclear power, alongside fracked and acidised oil and gas that will be obtained on land, as coal is slowly wound down and North Sea hydrocarbon reserves are becoming harder and more expensive to extract. Indeed fracking and nuclear appear to be inextricably linked. The connections become more apparent when one considers their roles within the wider military industrial complex, which includes nuclear weapons and oil to power the war machine. We may not be obviously at war, but UK weapons exports are a huge industry, we maintain a large army and there are hidden, covert wars you don’t see. Only a small fraction of British military activity in the Middle East is currently reported by mainstream media. Trident is itself up for renewal and there appears to be very little political opposition to another phase of nuclear warheads, submarines and other infrastructure that does not ensure our safety.

Cuadrilla’s Preston New Road fracking site is only 5 miles from the Springfields nuclear site, at Saltwick near Kirkham, which has been operational since 1946. The site was the first in the world to produce nuclear fuel for a commercial nuclear reactor. This site at Calder Hall in Cumbria later incorporated Windscale and we now refer to it as Sellafield. It’s no longer a functioning nuclear power plant, but the land around the site remains highly contaminated with radionuclides and requires a gas-powered power station to cool the hot waste that remains to a safe temperature. Springfields makes nuclear fuels (including uranium hexafluoride gas) and processes nuclear waste. Decommissioning and demolition of pre-existing buildings at the plant is ongoing. Toshiba Westinghouse who own the site, constructed the reactors at Fukushima.

You may have heard rumblings that industry and government are considering disposing nuclear waste into old onshore oil/gas wells. This of course sounds like lunacy, but it’s worth considering where the story came from and how credible the original source of that story is. Although fracking will produce many more wells, history has shown us that governments and the nuclear industry have no clear strategy for safe waste reprocessing and disposal. Yet, there’s no clear evidence to link fracking for gas in areas of shale rock to what the nuclear industry refer to as a Geological Disposal Facility (GDF), where nuclear waste would be disposed, which is planned for areas where granite geology predominates, which is far less permeable. It’s a different regulatory regime to fracking and the GDF looks very different to a drilled fracking well - they are aiming to store the waste at depths of up to 500m in what is effectively an underground bunker.

The Conservative government and the extreme energy industry don’t have a clear strategy for getting rid of their own frack-waste. In the UK, waste water has ended up in the Manchester ship canal and INEOS have stated they are considering using the North Sea as a dumping ground. In the USA, produced water, that flows back up the well after fracking (a toxic mix of water, sand, polycyclic organic/aromatic compounds, heavy metals and radioactive isotopes), has been re-injected into old wells. This in turn has caused quakes and tremors by a process geologists call induced seismicity, notably in the state of Oklahoma, in the USA where there has been a huge increase in earthquakes. Tremors caused by fracking at the Preese Hall site on the Fylde in Lancashire, caused Cuadrilla’s operations to be suspended for one year in 2011 and damaged some residents homes.

On the Fylde, where fracking is now a very real threat, the underground rock is a mixture of limestone and shale, which is very water permeable. Much of the low/intermediate risk nuclear waste gets buried near the surface at nuclear sites, which tends to leach slowly into the ground. The risk of contamination of the water depends how water permeable the ground is. Any underground disruption due to fracking or induced seismicity, could increase the chances of existing radioactive material at the Springfields site spreading to a wider area. Low level waste from the Springfields site is transported east to the nearby Clifton Marsh landfill site near Preston, which has been accepting the lower risk waste for over three decades. If fracking expands outwards from Little Plumpton, which of course is the plan, there will be more of these kinds of safety conflicts. Tremors could also cause buildings at the nuclear site to become damaged, causing a radioactive leak. Any earthquake or tremor near a nuclear site, could have unforeseen consequences.

There is no solution to the waste from destructive, toxic industrial processes such as nuclear power and those undertaken by the extreme energy industry. Fracking waste water, as I’ve noted, itself becomes radioactive once naturally occurring isotopes trapped in the ground are released by hydraulic fracturing at pressure. Even the methane gas produced by fracking can become radioactive when it’s contaminated by isotopes of radon gas. This is a real concern on the Fylde too as campaigners have warned.

It does make you wonder. If we knew about Fukushima, fracking and earthquakes in 2011, why did our government decide to continue down this road? Co-locating nuclear and fracking/onshore drill sites is clearly a terrible idea - something only fools would conjure. Only a reckless government would allow big business to pollute our water and land in this way. Anti-nuclear and frack free campaigners need to synergize their efforts to stop this dual threat.

On Friday 10th March (2017) a vigil to Remember Fukushima will be held outside the Japanese Embassy at 5:30pm. This will be followed by a march on Parliament on Saturday 11th March - assemble at the Japanese Embassy at midday for a 12:30pm start.

February 2019 update:

In December 2018, the UK informed the public it was looking for new sites for its proposed GDF facility.

“Following today’s written ministerial statement by Richard Harrington and the publication of Implementing Geological Disposal - Working with Communities by the Department for Business, Energy and Industrial Strategy, Radioactive Waste Management (RWM), a subsidiary of the Nuclear Decommissioning Authority, will now begin the search for a willing host community and a suitable site to construct a Geological Disposal Facility (GDF).”

https://www.gov.uk/government/news/government-launches-new-policy-to-deal-with-radioactive-waste

Yesterday (3rd February 2019) - The Newry.ie reported the following story:

“The UK Government are investigating the suitability of Newry and surrounding area of Mourne Mountains and Slieve Gullion as a potential venue for the storage of radioactive waste. It's one of four sub-regions in Northern Ireland that have been deemed potentially suitable for a Geological Disposal Facility (GDF). Thirteen regions in total are under investigation including Northern Ireland, Northern England, Pennines and adjacent areas, Eastern England, Wales, Welsh Borderland, Central England, East Anglia, Bristol and Gloucester, London and the Thames Valley, South West England, Hampshire Basin and Wealden District.“

https://www.newry.ie/9-news/latest/6591-newry-area-under-investigation-for-radioactive-waste-disposal

Note that the government are looking to do this in areas of granite geology due to it’s low permeability, so this is quite different to the areas where fracking for shale gas is proposed - they are different rock formations. It’s really important to remember this, as there’s been quite a lot of confusion about the supposed threat of dumping nuclear waste down wells drilled by the extreme energy industry. The evidence for this is purely ancedotal.

We should be focusing on the twin threats of GDF in the above areas and the continued threat from the extreme energy industry - fracking and acidisation in this case, which is taking place in the following areas: Preston New Road (Lancashire), Misson (Notts), West Newton (East Yorkshire), Biscathorpe (Lincs), Horse Hill (Surrey), Brockham (Surrey), Lidsey (West Sussex), Balcombe (West Sussex). These are the live drill sites or sites where fracking or acidisation has been attempted or is in progress. Other applications in other parts of the country are at earlier stages of the planning process.

#NoNuclear FrackFreeEverywhere Fukushima Energy Fracking ExtremeEnergy Nuclear ContaminatedLand

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mychristopherstokes66world · 6 years ago

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Rural and suburban folk in the midwest and everywhere else have the same culture and values as their southern counterparts and are viewed with hatred and contempt by the urbanite hippies. It will be over quickly since you cant get food in the cities without shipping it in. They are also a powerful and vocal but tiny minority. Their pets will tear their progressive urban utopias apart. It won’t be a civil war. The cities will be anarchy, the south will be race war, and everybody in the cities will die. It’ll be over so quick it wouldn’t be fair to call it a war I think California or large parts of the Bay Area on down turn into Latino ethnic states. Depending what happens to the Chinese population in the Bay the Chicoms might actually push in to carve out a sphere of influence in SF. Texas and Florida turn into Hispanic/White semi-ethnostate states with token black populations. They deport all their Nogs to Miss, Lousinana, Alabama. The nogs will likely end with Mississippi as an ethnostate when they get pushed out of those ther states plus Georgia. That place will be where any blacks that don’t play ball under those new regimes will be deported to. The Northeast turns into a bloodbath for years, but the Great Plains and Pacific norwest come out fine. Thoughts?

Unlike the first civil war, the urban areas are now completely dependent upon rural areas to survive. We are also extremely infrastructure dependent. Remember when the first civil war happened before the electrical grid existed. It occurred before the significant supply of urban water came from wastewater plants and reclamation (requiring power and lots of chemical shipments).

The moment the infrastructure like highways and railways to the cities are destroyed or captured is the moment the urban areas begin to starve and riot. The urban areas will literally destroy themselves as the inhabitants panic just trying to survive (food, water, electricity will be gone quickly).

Which is what we want. A good anon should have mapped out key infrastructure near him that supports his area and the next urban area and have a plan of dealing with or securing it in SHTF.

Also know where your Nog areas are and think of natural ways to keep them bottled in.

Critical infrastructure like substations, power plants, aqueducts and pumping plants will be heavily defended as high priority assets. Many cities also have ports and will be able to receive goods and support from allies. They won't be completely isolated. Also a fair amount of inland cities will likely side with rural areas (middle america).

In a real SHTF hot civil war, law enforcement will be low priority. Infested areas will be rampant with gangs going full highwayman, hijacking citizens and raiding homes. It will be fucking ugly. You can't really bottle them in. Nog gangs would essentially be running their own micro insurgencies inside the overall conflict.

Both sides will have insider threats. Civil war is not simple. It's not pretty. It's not thou are on and who wins. And if you don't die, your way of life will be changed, likely for the rest of your life.

Imagine the small minority of sympathizers in your area poisoning your town's water supply. Imagine organized firestarting all around your town burning your house down and killing many of your friends and family. Its not going to be fun and clean. There are no pure divisions. Its not like everyone north of X state is the enemy, its more like X% of your local populace is now going to try to kill you and your family covertly.

Nobody could tell you accurately. It would take a concerted effort to revolt by a lot of people. Civil wars typically start in 2 ways:

You usually see a shit-ton of the people in the streets protesting the government (which we don't). The whole resist trump marches and shit are not comprised of people who want a civil war, they are mostly comprised of people who just don't like the president and want someone else in office; they are not willing to sacrifice their lives in this effort.

The country is invaded or some kind of governmental collapse causes a power vacuum.

In otherwords, we are not close to a civil war. We do see an extremely anemic threat of domestic terror from Antifa, but that can be almost instantly quelled. If the federal government designates them a terrorist organization, they will be completely fucked. Their loudest, most influential, and violent will be v& and shipped to Guantanamo so fast their heads will spin.

I’d say 10 years at least but no more than 20.

In the next ten years and after this census we are really going to start feeling some demographics realities. After the census a lot of interior red states are going to lose congressional seats and EC votes (the seats matter more) to Blue states- that’s what this influx has been about from the getgo. Remember the census counts everyone with a pulse for congressional representation NOT legal citizens so the next reapportionment secures a Democratic Congress for perpetuity.

The Republicans will NEVER take back the house. Within 16 years white demographics are not enough to hold an election. That’s when the real fun begins...

I wouldn't bet on it. As we stand now, the democratic party stands to be hoisted by their own petards. The acceptance rate of socialist policies by young americans is dangerously high, and this could stand to make the current cracks in the democrat party now to fracturing fissures in as little as 10 years. If a real fracture occurs and another party forms. the democrats essentially lose a large percent of their young to mid-30s voting base and republicans (if they hold their sails) will dominate them. Right now there is just too much up in the air to make a solid determination either way, just that we aren't close yet.

Except the socialist policies are more accepted by the younger non-white voting base and their numbers are rapidly rising. Furthermore Bernie has successfully managed to create a marriage of that socialism with “racial justice”. Effectively socialism gives the minorities their “equitable” share of American wealth.

The only non-whites that are not hip to this were already elites back home before fleeing socialism to come here. They’re already Republican and there’s simply are just not enough. The issue is the Democrats have tapped into the poorest classes in the hemisphere and have been importing them by the millions over the last decade. I know these people- they will vote to line their pockets. They are two layers deep into the Democratic Party- they get financial justice from socialism AND racial justice from wealth redistribution.

Don’t discount the fact that the education system isn’t built to handle this influx either. These kids will grow up without skills and without an economy to participate in and they will be angry and they will coming to whites for their due.

I prophecy that a man will appear. A good man who loves his nation. (CIA CLOWN) He will tell us that minorities are to blame for dividing us. He will unite whites. Blacks will be given Florida because of trace sympathy about slavery. A wall will be built just south of Jacksonville, all the way across to the other side. Hispanics will be shipped en masse to their countries of origin. Jewish assets will be seized and they will be sent to Israel. The LGBT community will be identified as a health crisis that endangers everyone else with the threat of STD’s and they will be banned an shunned. Mental hospitals will be restored and they will be put in them where they all belong. Having been sickened with interventionism, the US will return to the old ways of war. Destroying nations that don’t behave and leaving them in ruins without giving aid or helping them rebuild thus reverting countries back to the Stone Age. A moratorium will be put on all immigration except from European countries and Australia. Except for Swedes. Because we don’t accept cucks.

But Blacks? Mestizo and Indian hispanics? The Democratic Party appeals to them at all aspects of their life from young to old. The post Great Society Democratic party is built upon a foundation of pandering to nonwhites and growing their numbers in order to solidify their power. It’s machine politics and they did it before with the Irish except what you have today are minorities that are too far away from being accepted into white society and supporting the current power structure. Castiza hispanics yes but Blacks and the rest- no. The majority of Blacks and low class hispanics will never accept white rule as a basic tenet of this society.

No matter how hard the Trumpster tries to redefine the national main to include based people of all races it is too late and that line will not hold- the cat is already out of the bag and the non-based Blacks and hispanics want their gibs from Whitey.

Marianne Williamson literally just did some math on the stage “involving 40 acres and a mule” and she actually sounded like she knew what she was talking about lol

Cities now have massive populations of leeches, criminals, and non combatants that would require enormous resources and manpower to keep in line. The major coastal cities could theoretically survive on foreign aid but I don't think they will be able to organize an army that can be used to project power into the rural areas, especially if they have tens of thousands of people tied down maintaining order and guarding infrastructure. The major coastal cities could survive on foreign aid for a long time and would be difficult to assault. Expect foreign combat troops to be deployed as well. Probably hundreds of thousands split between the coastal cities. Most of the liberal sides combat power will likely come from allied military formations.

Interior cities wont survive such a conflict. The interior of the country would be easy to secure but the most realistic chance of ending the war would be to capture the nuclear arsenal and use it to threaten the countries supplying the liberal side. Otherwise I don't see how such a war could be brought to an end.

You didn't realize there was a white pill hidden in #WhiteGenocide did you? Neither did the Jews. They did this to themselves.

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>White genocide white pill

Far right conservative whites exhibit k-selection and therefore are more loyal, protective, and supportive of offspring, family and racial group.

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Western civilization is our birthright.

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Exhibited by the facts that...

We work much harder

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We make/grow all the food

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And are much smarter and more inventive

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Our women are also THE most racially loyal despite constant Jewish propaganda.

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The extreme far right is the only group with positive population replacement rates. Which means the white world will be ours

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Whites are the fiercest and most capable warriors. Do not fuck with us.

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Nostalgia for our culture and stolen prosperity is what will fuel the revolution. This is why the Jews seek to destroy our history. It is our kryptonite.

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We also own the largest amount of guns for a single homogenous civilian group. 46 million white, right wing adults own 125 million firearms. For context, this is 21 times larger than the world's largest army of 2.1 million soldiers in China and 31 times larger than the U.S. Army, most of whom are on the right.

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We are objectively the most beautiful and most diverse.

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And despite all the Jewish brainwashing and trickery, we are waking up unlike never before and realizing we are part of a much larger group. IT IS OK TO BE WHITE.

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The Jews hate to see a group superior to theirs create the wonders of the world.

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This is why they throw everything they have at us. Through all their media outlets, they try to convince us being white is a curse and is detrimental to the world.

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Make no mistake, their media reach is vast and powerful

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They tell the lie that whites don't have any culture when they know our culture is the most desirable. Some say it is even divinely inspired.

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The reality is that there will come a time in the very near future when the white man wakes up and decides he's done taking shit. The world will change forever.

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NO MORE BROTHER WARS

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That depends on how much the rest of the world is willing to ethnically cleanse white americans. All of africa and the middle east would be willing to take down america. China wants a piece of our ass. Latin America is going to zerg rush as many shock troops as possible through the southern border. The only true allies we'll get are europeans in either europe or Australia/New Zealand. Maybe some based asians at best but I doubt the Japs are going to help us after the nukes we dropped on them. If the rest of the world gets told that America is now le ebil fascist nation then it's possible that they'll gang up on us to split up America. That doesn't even include the people already here that are willing to slaughter whites. We have a chance at winning but it's going to be tough. Most of the world is going to turn it's back on us but they're pretty much already doing that

The United States was founded as and always intended to be a European ethnostate. Immigration of anyone non European WAS NOT ALLOWED until the Immigration and Nationality act of 1965. The Jews played an outsized role in getting this legislation passed and ushering in the genocide of whites in America.

Learn your history...

The Real History of the United States https://archive.4plebs.org/pol/thread/203707685/

> Founding Fathers

Alexander Hamilton, Founding Father, on the white ethnostate

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Ben Franklin, Founding Father, on the white ethnostate

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John Dickenson, Founding Father, on the white ethnostate

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Charles Pickney, Founding Father, on the white ethnostate

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James Madison, Founding Father, on the white ethnostate

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Thomas Jefferson, Founding Father, on the white ethnostate

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Thomas Jefferson, Founding Father, on immigration into the white ethnostate

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Founding fathers compilation on the creation and maintenance of a white ethnostate

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Founding fathers ethnostate compilation

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US presidential compilation calling for racial exclusion and homogeneity

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>Westward Expansion

Oregon territory racial exclusion

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The expansionist movement out west didn't want slavery, not because of its moral abhorrence, but because it was and the white homogeneity of the community

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Abraham Lincoln on racial separation

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Abraham Lincoln wasn't anti slavery, he was anti separation.

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>14th Amendment

The intent of the 14th amendment, as told by its author.

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https://thedevilman666.blogspot.com/https://www.facebook.com/groups/qanonreports https://twitter.com/CIACLOWN1 https://www.bitchute.com/channel/ciaclown16661/

#CIA CLOWN #RED PILL #REDPILL #ANON #HONKHONK

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