#shoot it's Friday and I said I was taking a break on weekends

[a2zillustration]

Do you understand, do you see my vision

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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

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[cinematicreid]

office hours

the one where reader is stressed about her exam and Spencer makes her take a break.

wc 786

tags + the rundown: fem!reader, uni!reader, prof!spencer, fluff!, she is a grad student, boyfriend!spencer, we love him!, pet names, i think that’s all

a/n: in case you need a kinktober break! this is not me hiding from the fact that i’m too nervous to post smut! not at all! feedback always welcome, say hi to me, hugs and kisses always.

~

“You’re distracting me,” you chide, not bothering to look up from your laptop.

“Sorry.”

Spencer isn’t sorry.

He continues to gently blow air on your forehead from across the table as he watches you poorly attempt to focus on studying.

The two of you are holed up in one of the campus library study rooms, which Spencer reserves every other Friday evening to hold office hours for his students.

You rarely join him, given his knack for being a distraction. But it was a slow day, he’d said, and your grad school exam was on Monday.

The problem? Your study guide is nearly twelve pages long and your boyfriend is blowing air at you from across the table.

“I’m going to fail,” you groan, pressing your fingers to your temples.

“You won’t fail,” he says gently, returning to the stack of essays he’s grading.

“Spencer, it’s like I haven’t attended a single class for the past three months. This study guide is stupid.”

“But you have attended class. Every single class. You’re overwhelming yourself by trying to review everything at once.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling a headache start to drum in the back of your head.

“And you’ve been staring at your screen for hours without a break. It’s going to give you a headache.”

Damn him.

“Maybe I’m not smart enough for a master’s.”

Spencer hums, unimpressed. You don’t mean it, you both know that.

He sets his pen down, reaches beneath the table and scoops your legs up to rest on his lap.

“You need to take a break, honey,” he begins, running his hands up and down your outstretched calves.

You lower your head to the table, exhausted and defeated.

“I don’t want to take a break, I want to get through this study guide.”

“You’ll have all weekend to study. I’ll help you.”

“But we’re busy this weekend. We need to go grocery shopping, and there’s laundry—why do we own so many clothes? And the closet’s a mess—”

You’re almost too caught up in your ramblings to notice Spencer slowly pulling your laptop toward himself, your calves abandoned. Your head shoots up, and you slam your hands on top of his, glaring at him.

“Do not, Spencer.”

He sighs.

“The closet’s been a mess for weeks. You can’t stress-clean to avoid your test.”

“Says you.”

That earns you a reprimanding look and a poke to your leg.

“And, you do realize that half the things you’re suddenly worried about I can handle, right?”

You stare at your wonderful, slightly-annoying boyfriend.

“You never get the bread I like when you grocery shop.”

He laughs so deep that you can feel his stomach bouncing from where your feet are resting.

“Okay, I’ll make sure to get the bread you like. The point is you don’t need to be pushing yourself like this. It’ll only make your exam go poorly.”

His convincing almost works, until you recall your syllabus. This exam is worth nearly a quarter of your grade.

Spencer watches the train of thought play out on your face, sighing at the chewing you’ve begun on your lip.

You want to cry.

“Angel.”

You ignore him, eyes trained on the table. He nudges your leg with his foot.

“My darling, darling girl.”

Still nothing.

“Baby.”

You finally glance up at him, begging the tears that are prickling the corners of your eyes to retreat.

“Yes?” you manage to whisper.

“Five minutes. Go take a walk outside for at least five minutes.”

“But—“

He gently, firmly, says your name, and you know it’s no use arguing.

“We’ve been in this room for almost three hours. Please.”

He stands, letting your legs fall to the floor and finally closing your laptop, moving it to his side of the table.

He makes his way to you, brushing a single, stray tear from your cheek and pressing a kiss to your forehead as you stand to leave.

“Fine. But because I want to, not because you’re making me.”

He accepts the last of your whining with a soft laugh.

“Of course.”

Spencer is right, because of course he’s right. The evening air immediately eases the tension in your shoulders, and five minutes quickly turn into twenty. By the time you make your way back, Spencer and his car are waiting outside the library.

“Office hours are over. Do you feel better?”

He gets out of the driver’s seat to open your door. You give him a smile and a nod, a grateful kiss on his arm as you settle in.

“I’m glad, baby. Dinner?”

“Yes, please. You’ve had me locked in that room for three hours, I’m starving.”

He laughs, closing the door behind you.

[snugglebug-mj-blog]

Can't find the perfect (my original idea)

Just imagine finding a secret room underneath the great 7 statues, Like one walking behind one because you saw something and you see a button and pushing it only for it to open a hatch on the back of the statue. You slowly climb down to find a small almost empty room.

“This would be perfect for a ‘me cave’. Just need to add some stuff and not tell anyone about it. A place for me to get away from everyone to just be by myself to think, to cry, or to simply breathe ” Y/n thought to herself as she looked around before nodding.

After decorating the room

Y/n looked around and nodded to herself. It wasn't much but it was hers.

It was after classes on a friday and y/n was tired and had a horrible headache so she went to her secret room and fell asleep. This week was more hectic than normal, grim being grim, Crowley being a huge jerk making y/n do his paperwork and refusing to find her away home, classes, bullies. With the lack of sleep y/n has had she was really tired but happy that next week was a break. Y/n had just planned to sleep for a few hours but instead she slept the weekend away.  {I've done this before i fell asleep on friday and didn't wake up until sunday night.} When she woke up loud thunder, and people shouting could be heard. Y/n quickly climbed out of her secret room only to find the sky dark, with green lightning shooting across the sky, as y/n started walking towards the school a Scarabia student ran up to her “You’re ok! Good! Come!” he said as he gently grabbed her wrist before they both started running through the school. Students and staff sighed in relief as they saw y/n. Soon the two got to the meeting room, the Scarabia threw open the door “I FOUND HER! SHE’S HERE!” The student yelled as he pulled y/n into the room y/n saw all of her friends and teachers. Before y/n could say anything Crewel had her in a tight hug, y/n could hear his heart racing before pulling her away from him “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!” Everyone yelled as they circled her “No one has seen you since friday!” Crewel said as he checked her for injuries  y/n blinked in confusion “I’m sorry. I was under a lot of stress because Crowley gave me all his paperwork to do plus school assignments and chasing after grim i guess i passed out somewhere” y/n rambled out quickly as tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t mean to, i’ll make sure i don’t do that again” y/n said as bowed “you can’t control it if you pass out due to lack of sleep but next time at least tell someone how you are feeling” silver said as he rubbed her back. Everyone was happy to see she was ok but right now they wanted to make sure she ate properly, and made sure she wasn’t hurt anywhere. 

All dorm leaders were highly ticked off as was crewel they dealt with crowley their way, Now crowley won’t even ask y/n for anything, he pays her more, and fixes up the ramshack dorm were y/n now has air and heat. Everyone takes turns helping y/n if she needs it.

[airaibunny]

momo x reader - “drunken mistake” (warnings: angst with happy ending, intoxication, cheating[not really], arguing)

a/n: requested! i’ve never written angst before, pretty please give me feedback.

word count: 1.6k

with all of the current concerts, traveling, rehearsing, and such, you and your members haven’t gotten much free time at all. so of course when your managers told you guys there was a break in the schedule for entire weekend, you jumped at the opportunity to let loose a bit.

you normally can’t drink at all when you’re on tour because there’s so many things you have to do, but a weekend is the perfect amount of time to do so.

after your concert on friday, you all showered and met up in one of your hotel rooms. you decided to buy drinks and sit around, talking about random things. this is what’s happening right now. most of the members are very drunk, but you still haven’t had any drinks, and neither has your girlfriend, momo.

you and momo’s relationship isn’t exactly new. you’ve been dating for about a year or so and all of the members have been nothing but supportive.

momo is not normally responsible, so the fact that she’s not shotgunning beers with jihyo right now is impressive. you’re guessing her reason is entirely perverted though. she keeps staring at you with ‘fuck-me’ eyes. you can tell what she wants, but you’re not going to give in just yet.

“pass me one.”

you point at the cooler in the corner of the room and jihyo passes you a beer. you open it and drink it all at once, earning a few ‘woos’ and claps.

“guys! you know what she should do?”

jeongyeon stands up, snapping to get everyone’s attention.

“we should play never have i ever! we haven’t played in forever.”

everyone immediately jumps to their feet and walks to the middle of the room, sitting in a circle.

“can i start, please?”

tzuyu throws her hands in the air and pleads with you guys to let her go first. you all let her of course, given as she’s basically twice’s baby and gets whatever she wants.

“never have i ever told someone i would share a room with them but then actually stayed with someone else.”

she asks while looking at dahyun the entire time, definitely a targeted question. the game continues with relatively innocent questions and jabs at certain people, until it gets to sana’s turn.

“never have i ever fucked someone in this room.”

she stares you and momo down, obviously waiting for you both to put a finger down, so you do. you both roll your eyes at everyone who’s sarcastically gasping and just expect the game to move on.

“hey, why isn’t one of your fingers down, nayeon?”

you sit, half in shock at this revelation, until you realize what chaeyoung is referring to with that question.

a few months ago, while you were still in korea, you all went out to celebrate the new tour and got a little too carried away with the drinks. the j-line was busy preparing for their debut since they’d be on tour shortly and wouldn’t be able to shoot, so momo couldn’t join you. when the night was over, chaeyoung offered to take you and nayeon home with her since you both drunk way more than everyone else. you said yes and chaeyoung drove everyone to her apartment. in a drunken, sexually frustrated haze from not seeing momo in so long, you let nayeon kiss you bit. that was it, just kissing.

when you woke up the next morning, chaeyoung told you both what you did and how she stopped it before it went any further than kissing. you felt horrible, but begged nayeon and chaeyoung not to tell momo. you figured she’d never find out, and you and nayeon didn’t actually do anything, so hurting her by telling her wasn’t worth it.

“chaeyoung, i’ve never done anything with anyone here.”

nayeon tries to play it off and move the conversation along, but chaeyoung just won’t let it go.

“no, remember that one time at my house? you and y/n?”

momo awkwardly giggles beside you, hoping she heard it wrong or chaeyoung was just too intoxicated to know what she was saying.

“chaeyoung, you’re drunk. stop talking.”

you snap at her, looking at nayeon for help.

“stop gaslighting me. i saw what you two did.”

momo’s smile is completely faded, she’s just staring at you and nayeon with heavy eyes.

“what is she talking about?”

the room is completely silent, all eyes are on you and momo. her nose is rosy and you can tell she’s holding back tears. you open your mouth to deny everything, to explain, or even just to apologize, but nothing comes out. a tear streams down her cheek and she abruptly stands up, running to the door and out of the room.

“momo!” you yell and run right after her, glaring down at chaeyoung on your way out.

you reach the door of your dorm right before she shuts it, pushing it back open and locking it behind you. momo is standing at the foot of your bed with her hands on her hips, eyes glossy with tears.

“momo, i didn’t sleep with her. chaeyoung is drunk, she didn’t know what she was saying.”

your hands are shaky and your face feels hot even though the air around you is icy. momo’s silent sobs shatter you entirely, how could you hurt her like this?

“momo, please talk to me.”

she wipes her tears as more fall down, crossing her arms in front of her.

“what do you want me to say? you’ve been keeping this from me for god knows how long, and i didn’t even find out from you.”

her voice breaks at the end of her sentence.

“i thought telling you would just cause unnecessary pain-“

she interrupts you before you finish.

“don’t fucking say that. if you had told me when it happened, i would have been angry and upset, and maybe i would have needed some time; but i would have understood. right now, i don’t know what i need or feel. i genuinely don’t.”

her face is completely flooded with tears, it’s destroying you to see her like this. how could you be so stupid? you’re crying along with her now, choking back loud sobs.

“please don’t say that. i know what ‘i don’t know what i want’ means, and i can’t do that momo. please don’t make me.”

you walk closer to her, putting your arms around her neck. she stands there for a second with her face turned to the side, then she steps back, removing your arms from around her.

“you don’t get to ask me for that.”

her expression turns cold, there’s no trace of sadness or anger. she wipes her tears away one last time and they don’t come back, which just makes yours grow stronger.

“no, don’t do that. be angry at me, yell at me, even hit me if that’ll make you feel better. but don’t be apathetic, please.”

“you betrayed me, y/n. nayeon betrayed me. fuck, even chaeyoung betrayed me. this would have never come out if she didn’t get drunk. where were your emotions all this time? you didn’t seem upset at all, why should i be?”

her words cut deep because she’s entirely right. you felt guilty for maybe a week, but you quickly forgot about it. nayeon and chaeyoung never brought it up again, which likely means they also forgot. none of you felt any sort of way about it after it happened, so why should momo? fuck, you were so dumb. this is all your fault, you should have told her, why didn’t you just tell her?

“you’re right, i did betray you. but i love you hirai momo, only you. all i did was kiss her, that was it. i’m so sorry.”

your stomach sinks as she stands in front of you without saying anything. you have nothing else to say, no more defense. all you can hope for is that she’ll take some time and come back to you. you can’t lose her, you refuse to.

you feel ashamed of how distraught you are in front of her. you’re the one who wrong her, yet here you are; in uncontrollable tears while she looks at you completely somber.

“why didn’t you just tell me? if it was really just a kiss, why not just tell me?”

there’s a few seconds of silence while she waits for you to formulate an answer.

“because i was drunk, and i was weak. i missed you so much, i just needed to feel someone; i didn’t care who it was. i didn’t want to tell you that, momo, because i realize i sound like a whore.”

you can see her eyes glaze over again and you feel relieved in a strange way. this means she cares. she steps closer to you, wiping away your tears as her her own fall down once again.

“don’t call yourself that. you’re not a whore. i left you alone, this was basically my fault.”

you put your hand over hers, still on your cheek.

“no, don’t blame yourself, please. i already feel bad for doing it, i don’t want to feel worse because you’re taking the blame.”

your foreheads press together and you just stand there, crying for a few of minutes. she presses her lips against yours, not letting go for a couple of seconds.

“i love you, so much, and i know you love me back. this is a big bump in the road, but we’ll get over it.”

momo pulls away to reassure you that everything will be fine, kissing you once more before fully pulling you into her arms and embracing you tightly.

“thank you. thank you so much for not immediately breaking up with me.”

“don’t thank me. just trust me when you make a mistake, please.”

[deanscroissant]

Chris Knight headcanon #1

“I saw your recent post about headcanons for Chris Knight, and I adore Real Genius! It's a funny movie movie, I love it. Would you be up to the idea of how Chris would be when you and him are studying together?” ~ Anon

A/N: so sorry it took a while to write. life happened lol. pls be gentle with me because this is my first headcanon. i also kind of went a little overboard so i hope this is okay. thanks for the request! if anyone else want to request then shoot me an ask. tyyyy 😁

okay Chris is an absolute sweetheart

he’ll make sure you have everything you need before studying: water, snacks, sharpened pencils, pens, highlighters, etc.

you do not play when it comes to studying and he knows it, so if he even just so move a muscle to pick up one of those gadgets he’s made then you’ll kick him out of his own dorm

but when he can tell you’re overworking yourself he’ll tell you to stop and take a break

when you would ace a test he’ll throw you a party each time

and when you would do bad on one (the worst you’ve ever gotten was a C) he still throws you a party and pamper you because, as he would say, “to my knowledge, there is no ‘c’ in failure. but i do know ‘Kent’ and ‘failure’ both have an ‘e’.”

you loved how he would cheer you up by just cracking jokes

before finals week approached, chris surprises you by taking you out on a weekend getaway to a concert of your favorite band

“are you kidding me?! these must have cost a fortune!” you gasped as you stared at the tickets in your hand.

“they weren’t when i threatened the guy who i brought them from.”

you giggled and jumped in his arms, “thank you, baby.”

“of course.” he said, smiling as he pulled you closer into him.

he loved making you happy just to see your beautiful smile + you deserved to be happy

you were hit with reality when you got back on campus Sunday night

you were scared as hell for your first final tomorrow and started to regret going on that weekend trip

“chris, do you think it was a good idea to go on that trip when we could have been studying?”

“yeah i think so. we’d probably have fried brains at this point if we did, don’t you think?”

you shrugged, “i guess so.”

“don’t worry, y/n. you got this. if you doubt yourself then you’ll do terrible on the test.”

“that’s what i always do, huh? doubting myself.” you said melancholy as you sat on your bed.

“yeah and you over think.” he squats down to your level, lifting your head up by your chin to look at him. he gently caresses your chin with his thumb. “i took you on the trip for that reason. believe in yourself, y/n…because i believe in you. can you promise me that?”

his viridian-colored eyes stared back into yours waiting for an answer. a moment went by before you smiled at him, “i think that can happen, captain.”

chris jumped up, threw his hand in the air, and yelled a cheerful, “Hell yeah!” before picking you up from the bed—bridal style— spinning you around as you let out a fit of laughter

you were passing your exams left and right all week, and when it came friday for your last exam, you passed that one as well!

when chris heard the news he was so happy for you. and you were happy for him of course, even though you knew he would ace all of his in one day

chris decided to go out to dinner to celebrate finishing the semester with you, along with mitch, jordan, ick, and lazlo.

then you guys went to a carnival and when chris would win anything from a game he would give it to you

“babe, no you deserved this. that was a really hard game.” you told him as you handed it back to him, but only for him to push your hand away.

“no, it’s for you. now come on! i got to win you one more prize for the last exam you passed.” he faked groaned and playfully rolled his eyes before taking your hand in his, smiling cheekily when he heard you laughing behind him.

so yeah even though chris graduates and you have one year left, he’s still gunna be your study buddy and cheering you on until then.

[honeysuckle-venom]

I've had a lot going on lately, psychologically, and I haven't been posting about 90% of it. I haven't been able to, I haven't had the words most of the time. I still don't. The last four days or so have been spent in a psychotic episode of astonishing intensity, one that feels more like our first break when we were 15 than almost anything since then. The whole summer has been very difficult, lots of trauma stuff and system stuff and psychosis stuff I thought I had put to rest coming up but coming up...differently, like the first time all over again instead of echoes? Idk how to explain it, my therapist had all sorts of good words for it in our session today but I was so psychotic I was only processing like 60% of what she was saying and I remember even less. I do know she said encouraging things about how every schizophrenic patient she's worked with has gone through this same process of temporarily getting much much better and tasting health for the first time and then having a significant recurrence of symptoms, and something about how the experience often mimics the first break/is like having the first break again for reasons I was too out of it to understand today but that are part of the healing process. So that was very comforting to hear, because my symptoms this weekend were honestly sort of terrifying.

But anyway. None of that was meant to be the original point of this post. I wanted to talk about how spiritually unprepared I feel for The High Holy Days. I mean, I always feel unprepared, I think everyone does, you're basically supposed to. If I'm remembering right that's even one of the phrases you say. But this year I have done less prep than any time in the last 5+ years. I just haven't been able to. I did manage to set aside one therapy session a few weeks ago to discuss my New Year's resolutions from last year and to what extent I've managed to stick to them, and to decide what ones I'm making this year, which is something really important that I do every year. I take my Rosh Hashanah resolutions very seriously and it's generally a real turning point in the year for me, they aren't the kind of casual resolutions a lot of people make in January like "I'm going to exercise," they tend to be significant decisions about how to live my life and treat myself and those around me. But besides that one therapy session and a tiny bit of contemplation on my own I haven't even tried to do the kind of spiritual inventory or teshuvah that I usually shoot for. And I'm trying to be okay with that. I spent this whole summer really struggling and the last few days psychotic and catatonic; I think Hashem understands that my priority has been to stay alive and that's pretty much all I've had the ability to do. But I'm still pretty much in survival mode and it sucks to be there just a few days before Rosh Hashanah. It's my favorite holiday and I haven't been able to think about it pretty much at all. I have plans to celebrate with friends both Friday and Sunday and intend to go to services Friday and Saturday, but I'm nervous that I won't be well enough for some or all of that. We'll see when we get there, I suppose. It's just a really bad feeling to know my favorite holiday is coming and normally I do a lot of internal and external work to prepare for it and I've done basically none of it and don't even feel that special "Rosh Hashanah is coming" feeling because I'm too busy being crazy. It just feels really sad and disappointing.

[2baddiesfanfics]

Breaking Routine

Pairing: Nobara x Maki

Tags: Dating, Romance, Vaginal Fingering, Kissing, Nipple Play, Dress Up

Summary:

It’s been more than a little while since Nobara and Maki have had a proper date night. With both of their schedules being so insanely hectic now that they’ve made it as full-time sorcerers, it’s only right that they get some quality time together. Maki pulls out all the stops and the two finally get to celebrate…

Read on Ao3

“Hey. When was the last time we actually went out and did something nice?” Nobara asked as she looked down at her girlfriend. Maki was resting her head in her lap, enjoying the absent-minded way Nobara was running her fingers through her hair.

It was true. The two had been taking missions non-stop the past month, seemingly constantly on the move. They barely saw the inside of their shared apartment now that they were both full-time sorcerers. When they did, they almost always missed each other. As one was walking in, the other was taking their leave. It wasn’t until just recently that their schedules finally died down.

“Hmmm…define nice. Last weekend we stayed in bed all day. I count that as nice,” Maki said with a mischievous grin on her face as she turned to face her. Nobara rolled her eyes.

“You dork. Yea, that’s always nice. But I mean when’s the last time we went on a proper date?”

Maki furrowed her brow in thought as she wracked her brain. Truly, she couldn’t remember.

“Uhhh…didn’t we grab pizza with Yuji and Megumi a few months back?”

“Maki! That doesn’t count. C’mon! Don’t you want to forget about work for a bit and get all fancy? Let’s do something different!” Nobara coaxed. Those damn puppy dog eyes of hers always won Maki over immediately.

“You know what?” Maki sat up. “You’re right. But if we’re gonna do it, let’s do it right. Get dressed up, go somewhere nice for dinner, all of it.” She knew Nobara liked to be wined and dined and felt guilty that they hadn’t had much time to themselves as of late.

Nobara’s eyes sparkled. “Really? You mean it?”

“Dead serious. I’ll take care of everything. All you have to do is be ready on time, which is a feat in and of itself,” Maki teased.

“Ugh, shut up! You can’t rush perfection, and I don’t ever hear you complaining about it when you’re dashing in to throw me on the bed.”

Maki chuckled. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have an ulterior motive, but she did enjoy treating Nobara to fun nights out. The smile that radiated on her face was worth every penny.

“Alright, you’re off next Friday, right? Let’s shoot for then. 6 pm. I’ll pick you up.”

“…Maki. We live together. What do you mean you’ll pick me- ahhh!” She was interrupted as Maki hoisted her up and into her arms.

“As much as I hate the name, I am a Zenin, you know. I have connections,” she said with a wink as she nuzzled her nose with her own. “Just look forward to it.”

“I’ll be counting the days,” Nobara said dramatically as she leaned forward and let Maki know how much she appreciated her making the effort…

——————————

Nobara was just finishing applying some new lipstick she had purchased for the occasion when she heard a knock at the door. After conducting one final check in the mirror, she was ready to go.

She had picked out a dress she knew would make Maki’s heart race. She always told her red was her color, so she had run out and bought one in a striking crimson. The velvet backless dress had a slit up the side that she had no doubt Maki would have trouble stopping her fingers from wandering up…but that was the goal.

“Just a minute!” She yelled as she navigated the room in heels. When she swung the door open, she was greeted with a Maki she wasn’t used to. The usual tomboyish style was nowhere to be seen. Maki was wearing a strapless long sleeve black dress that dipped lower than Nobara would have liked. She didn’t like to admit it, but she most certainly was the jealous type. The mere thought of anyone, man or woman, gazing where they shouldn’t made her want to mark her with love bites.

“Hey, my eyes are up here,” Maki said, a bouquet of roses flashed in front of her face snapping her back to reality.

“Oh, Maki! They’re beautiful. Wow, you’re actually taking this seriously,” Nobara teased.

“Of course I am! If I’m going to properly seduce you, I have to go all out, clearly.” Nobara gave her a playful shove on the shoulder before hustling to the kitchen to grab a vase for the flowers. Nabbing her purse, she and Maki walked out arm-in-arm.

“So, what’s for dinner?”

“It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you,” Maki teased. “But our ride is here.” A shiny black town car was waiting by the curb.

“Holy shit, Maki!”

She shrugged. “Told you I had connections.”

The chauffeur exited the driver seat and opened the door to the car. Both women scooted in as Nobara noticed a privacy screen was already up.

“Hopefully the ride won’t be too short...” Nobara thought to herself.

As the vehicle pulled away and moved toward its unknown destination, Maki turned to her with her usual cocky smile. “The restaurant’s in the city, so we’ve got a little time to kill…” she said as her hand started to roam up Nobara’s exposed thigh.

Nobara looked at her as she bit her bottom lip. “How much time are we talking?”

“Well, I don’t want us to ruin our appetites, but I don’t think a little snack would hurt,” Maki whispered into her ear, her fingers traveling further until they met the thin strap of fabric that was Nobara’s panties (if such a small scrap of material could even be considered as such). Nobara could feel her pulse slamming in her throat.

Maki’s lips met hers, and they kissed slowly. While there was still a sense of urgency, this was setting the tone for the rest of the night. There was no need to rush. They had all the time in the world to savor each other. But that wasn’t going to stop them from getting a little hot and heavy.

“I like your dress,” Maki murmured as she kissed her neck. “Red’s definitely…”

“Mmm, my color. Yes. I know. You’ve told me more than once,” Nobara said breathily as she tilted her head to give her better access. The vibration of Maki’s laugh against her skin made her shiver.

Her tongue traced down her collarbone causing Nobara to sigh with delight. If this was an appetizer, she couldn’t wait for whatever dessert was in store. She could feel Maki’s fingers starting to wander beneath the elastic of her underwear and she swallowed hard.

Her groan of “Maki…” was drowned out by a sudden interruption.

Ms. Zenin? We’re about five minutes out. The driver’s tinny voice echoed over the intercom, pausing their momentum.

“What the fuck? Did he drive 20 over the speed limit?” Maki muttered under her breath. She cleared her throat so her tone wouldn’t betray her annoyance.

“Thanks, Toshiro. Appreciate it,” she replied as she rolled her eyes at Nobara who was hiding a grin behind her hand. She cuddled into the crook of Maki’s arm, assuming there was no point in continuing their make-out session if they were almost at the restaurant.

“You look pretty hot yourself, you know. I’m not used to seeing you in a dress so…revealing in the chest area,” Nobara mentioned with a sneer as she eyed the spot in question.

“Wait a second! Are…are you jealous?” Maki let out a hearty laugh. She wasn’t used to being considered an object of desire by anyone but Nobara, so she found it both flattering and funny at the same time.

Nobara punched her shoulder. “Don’t laugh! It’s not funny!” Suddenly, she was struck with an idea. Seeing as how they would soon arrive at their destination, she opened her bag and applied a fresh coat of blood-red lipstick.

Let’s see how she likes this…

Nobara leaned in and kissed the spot just above Maki’s cleavage. When she pulled away, a fresh mark stained the woman’s skin. Tracing the area with her finger, Nobara smiled wickedly. Maki inhaled sharply at the unexpected gesture as a shiver ran down her spine and goosebumps began to rise.

“There. Now everyone knows who you belong to, just in case they start to get any ideas,” Nobara teased as she fixed her makeup a final time.

Maki gazed at the lip print that now graced her chest and smirked back. “I didn’t realize you were that concerned. If I’d have known, maybe I would make an effort to wear outfits like this more often. I consider your marks a badge of honor,” she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows as she took Nobara’s hand in her own.

She glared back at her response. “This is a special occasion. I’m not a fan of the idea of other people seeing you flaunting what you’ve got.”

The two felt the car pull to a stop. “Baby, the only thing I want to flaunt is you,” Maki replied with a wink as she kissed the back of her hand. “Now let’s go eat. I’m freakin’ starving.”

“For food, or something else?” Nobara cheekily asked.

“Hmm…depends. What’s on the menu?” Maki retorted. Nobara licked her lips and responded with a wink as she exited the vehicle.

Maki sat flustered for a moment.

“Oh, trust me. I’ve got my eyes set on you for dessert,” she thought before gathering herself and stepping out of the car.

——————

“Reservation for Zenin,” Maki told the host as she held up two fingers.

“Ah, yes, right this way,” he said as he grabbed a couple of menus and walked them to a private room toward the back.

“Maki!” Nobara hissed as she followed her lead. “This place has to be ungodly expensive!”

“Shhh. We don’t do it that often and I know you love Italian food. If it’s not authentic, it’s not worth it,” Maki shrugged. “Plus, you deserve it. I know we haven’t been able to do much in terms of a date night lately. Just let me treat you. And then you can treat me later,” she said suggestively.

Nobara shot her a glance that seemed to say, Oh really?

As they were seated, Nobara had to admit she was impressed. The intimacy of the situation was palpable. Candles provided soft lighting and the music was pleasant but not so loud that they couldn’t hold a conversation. Soon after, a waiter approached their table with a strange expression on his face.

“Everything alright?” Maki asked.

“Um…ma’am…not to be rude, but I wanted to let you know you have some…um…” he stuttered as he mimed at his chest. Maki looked down and saw what he must be referring to.

“Oh, I’m well aware. While red looks fantastic on my girlfriend, I have to admit it doesn’t look terrible on me, either,” she said with confidence.

“Ah…I see. Well…what can I get you two ladies? Celebrating anything special tonight?”

They looked at each other for a second, wracking their brains to try to determine an answer. Before Maki could come up with a smart-ass remark, Nobara simply said, “Us. We’re celebrating us.”

Though the lighting made it hard to tell, this simple yet romantic answer made Maki blush. Being strong, independent women who made their own way in the world, it was always nice to be reminded they no longer had to live life alone.

“Yes. Us. And to start we’ll take a bottle of your best red,” Maki chimed in. When the waiter returned, he poured them both a glass, took their food orders, and finally gave them some time alone.

Maki raised her drink. “Well, now we have to toast to us. Cute answer, by the way.” Nobara lifted her own and they clinked glasses. “I was going to tell them it was your birthday so they’d come in singing and embarrass the shit out of you, but I didn’t want to ruin such a lovely evening.”

Their meal proceeded delightfully as they caught up with what was going on with their respective missions, discussed a vacation in the near future, and stole bites of each other’s orders. Their hearts and stomachs full, Maki flagged the waiter down for the check and started plotting how the night would end.

——————-

The two strolled hand-in-hand down the street to meet their driver. Maki had texted him to arrive a little late as she had plans to spice things up before they got home. Pulling Nobara around the corner of the building, she abruptly stopped and pushed her up against the wall.

“Jeez, Maki! Careful!” Nobara yelped as she attempted to smooth her dress down.

Maki propped Nobara’s chin up with two fingers, tilted her head to look into her eyes, and leaned in for a light kiss. Nobara’s sweet peach-scented perfume intoxicated her senses as their lips gently touched. Moving her fingers from her chin to her cheek, Maki brushed it tenderly with her thumb before grabbing the side of her face. Bracing herself against the wall with her other hand after untangling it from Nobara’s, she lodged her knee between her legs and pulled her in deeper.

Pinned against Maki’s solid frame and the wall behind her, Nobara allowed her hands to wander. Sliding them down her back, they met her firm ass as she squeezed and closed any remaining space between them.

Through panted breathing, their tongues clashed as the sheer need for one another built within them. Small sighs and moans echoed down the alley as the two got lost in the feeling of each other. They were so entranced they didn’t realize their driver had arrived and had gone looking for them on foot.

Clearing his throat to alert them, they snapped to attention. “Ehem…Ms. Zenin? Are you and Ms. Kugisaki ready to head home?”

Resting her forehead on Nobara’s, she replied with a breathy chuckle, “Yea, I think we are more than ready…”

————————————

When they arrived home, the two practically ran up the stairs back to their apartment. Scrambling for the keys, Nobara fumbled through her purse as Maki grabbed her from behind. Her hand lightly encircled her neck as she whispered, “What’s taking you so long?”

The warmth of her breath on her ear made Nobara squirm. “It’s fucking dark out here. I can’t see! Ah, wait. Here!” She quickly stuck the key in the lock, twisted the doorknob, and the two bustled into the room kicking their shoes off at the entrance.

While they were eager to pick up where they had left off in the alley, both could tell they wanted to take their time with each other. Nobara and Maki were usually as intense in bed as they were in a fight, but tonight was different. Yes, they were fueled by sheer desire, but also the intense love they had for one another.

As Nobara took Maki’s hand in her own to try and lead her to the bedroom, Maki didn’t budge. Nobara turned to face her in confusion.

Maki drew her close in a strong embrace. “Hey…thanks for mentioning you wanted to do something like this tonight. I’m sorry it’s been so long since we’ve had a nice night out,” she apologized as she kissed her brow. Her voice thickened with rare emotion. “I love you.”

Nobara looked up at her and cupped her cheek. “It’s ok, baby. I love you too. I know we’ve both been crazy busy lately. But hey…we’ve got all night…so let’s make the most of it.” They exchanged knowing grins as they continued on their way to the bedroom.

Plopping down on the bed, Nobara giggled as she dragged Maki down with her. Maki couldn’t help but smile. “Have I ever told you how cute your laugh is?” she said as she pulled the strap of Nobara’s dress down her shoulder and kissed the bare skin.

“Hmmm…maybe once or twice,” she hummed in response. “But I never get tired of hearing you praise me - ooooooh,” a moan escaped her as she felt Maki lick her way up her neck.

“Is that so? Then be a good girl for me and sit up a bit so I can get you out of this dress.” Blushing, Nobara swiftly obeyed and the velvet fabric slid to the floor. Maki’s own dress quickly followed suit.

Laying down beside her, Maki pulled Nobara close in a spooning position. Having been with her for some time, she knew there was nothing that turned her on more than being talked through what was about to occur.

Bringing her hand up to gently knead Nobara’s breast, she felt her exhale in approval. She turned slightly, clearly seeking Maki’s lips. They kissed as Maki’s fingertips brushed against her now-hardening nipple.

“You like that?”

“Mmmmm god…yessss” she whined. Encouraged, Maki pinched just hard enough to get her to arch back. She could feel her squeezing her legs together and knew she was ready for her. Her lips grazed her ear, a throaty chuckle warming the skin there.

“That’s my girl. Spread your legs for me. I want to feel how wet I make you.” Nobara wasted no time in doing so. Maki’s hand slowly descended her belly until her fingers slipped through her slick folds. She smirked knowingly at Nobara’s sharp intake of breath. Stroking slowly, she teased her opening ever so slightly. Nobara thrust her hips in response.

“M-m-maki…faster…please…” she begged.

She stilled her hand. “I already said I planned to take my time with you. Do you really want to come this quickly?”

Nobara turned her head once more to look into Maki’s eyes, pleading. “Maki! Please…you feel so good…don’t stop…just take me.”

Kissing her neck, Maki murmured, “How can I deny you when you look at me like that?” Her fingers glided across her clit, rubbing at a pace that matched Nobara’s now frantic breathing.

“Fuck…Maki…yes…gonna…”

“That’s right, come for me, baby. Let me hear how fucking good I make you feel,” Maki commanded.

“Ughnnn Maki!!” Nobara grabbed her hand with her own as her orgasm shook her body. Maki allowed her to slow her movements as she came down from the high. She nuzzled Nobara’s neck as she waited for her breathing to slow. Giving her encouraging light kisses, she listened to her breathing become normal once more.

Nobara untangled herself and sat up with her back against the headboard. She looked over at her with a tired smile and patted her lap.

Maki crawled over and straddled her lap, her hands resting on her shoulders for support. Nobara moved her hands across her back before sliding them down her sides. Biting her lip in anticipation, goosebumps rose on Maki’s skin.

Nobara leaned in, slowly kissing her as both of her hands played with her breasts. Pinching and pulling at her nipples, her touches made Maki moan into her mouth. Taking this chance, Nobara slid her tongue into her mouth as she reached past Maki’s toned stomach and circled the sensitive bud she found between her thighs. Maki’s body jolted from the sudden sensation that coursed through her. She continued to apply just the right amount of pressure to the nub until Maki parted their lips.

“Ahh—hah—No-Nob-Nobara!” Maki breathlessly groaned. Nobara watched her through hooded eyes, never ceasing her movements. She always enjoyed watching the usually serious Maki start to come undone.

“What do you want, dear?” Nobara coyly asked.

“P-p-please - hah! - you,” Maki tried to respond.

“Oh, come on now, you can do better than that, love,” Nobara smiled as she leaned forward to suck on Maki’s neck.

“I need…you inside me…now!” Maki demanded.

Pulling away from her neck, she left red marks where her lips once were. “There, was that so hard?” she laughed.

Nobara glided her finger to Maki’s entrance, prodded a moment, then swiftly guided it into her. Pumping her finger in and out, she curled it upward hitting the spot she knew would make Maki cry out for more.

“Aahhh yessss!” Maki encouraged.

With Maki’s slick running down her hand, she inserted a second finger. Maki yelped from the sudden intrusion. Nobara continued to thrust faster, adding her thumb to swipe her clit.

“There…ah! Right there! So close!” Maki closed her eyes and threw her head onto Nobara’s shoulder. She grabbed Nobara’s wrist that was between her legs to keep her in place and bounced in time with the fingers inside her.

Maki’s body shook as she moaned into Nobara’s shoulder, coming hard against her hand. Nobara soothed her through it, whispering encouragement as her body reached its normal state. Maki shifted off of her and the two women sat together, fingers intertwined. They enjoyed the calm silence until Nobara’s stomach let out a gurgle.

“It sounds like you’re ready for dessert,” Maki chuckled. Nobara blushed as she playfully shoved her.

“Oh shush. But I’d be lying if I said you were wrong. Do we have anything in the kitchen?”

“I believe so. Let me go look,” she said as she kissed her cheek. “Be right back.” Nobara could hear her rummage through the pantry. Maki re-emerged into the bedroom with a box of Pocky. Nobara had never been more thankful that they always kept a few packages of various flavors in the apartment for when they got the munchies.

Maki sat back down and cracked open the container. “Wanna share?” she asked as she stuck one between her lips.

“There’s no sweeter way to do so,” Nobara replied as she crunched until their lips met once more.

[dynamoe]

A break in the narrative of TOMORROW'S JUST ANOTHER DAY for a flashback to Burbank. 1989. (6101 words) read on AO3 (better for your eyes) → or keep reading here below the break ↓

BURBANK 1989

He waited for the craft service manager to leave to empty the coffee urn. She’d be gone ten minutes max so he had to work fast. He pushed a cooler to the edge of the table, stood lightly on the lid and surveyed the end-of-day remnants. He grabbed the bowl of Hershey's Miniatures and up-ended them into his backpack. Same for the bowl of trail mix. The hummus wouldn’t keep and he didn’t have a container for that; he’d have to eat the carrot sticks he already swiped from the green room plain. Everything else was too picked over.

He jumped off the cooler and opened it— only a couple cans of TAB and RC Cola left. He closed it in disgust. Craft service was tapped, he could give the green room another once-over but he already had snatched up the last third of the party sub, the crudité platter and a bowl of M&Ms.

He turned back in a rush, smashing directly into someone walking the other way. He bounced backward, dropping his backpack and all his raided provisions spilling onto the floor

“Whoa whoa whoa,” a familiar voice admonished, “Watch where you’re goin’, kid.”

“Mr. White! Sorry, I—” Billy collected his wits and then dove onto the pile of peanuts and M&Ms leaking out of his backpack.

The taping ended an hour ago, why are you still here?”

“I missed my bus back to the hotel so I’m just killing time, I guess,” Billy lied, stuffing as much food back in his bag before Mr. White noticed as he could. White didn’t seem very observant, focused fully on the craft service table.

“I gotta stay to record promo bumpers for all the affiliates on Fridays,” Mr. White muttered sourly and then sniffed loudly.

Billy looked confusedly at Mr. White, out of wardrobe and wearing pale-gray jeans and a polo shirt. 

“Audio only,” White explained, looking back at the table, “Someone took all the Krackel bars! Nuts!”

Billy spotted a miniature Krackel he had dropped next to Mr. White’s foot. He retrieved it and held it up in White’s field of vision.

“Thanks, kid,” White snapped it up and stuffed it in his mouth, “Oh, you’re the champ this week.”

White never learned the Quizboys’ names. They turned over too quickly. Two tapings a day five days a week with only one champion carrying over from show to show, that’s 21 Teacher’s Pets he had to feign interest in meeting on-camera and then never making eye-contact with after.

“Yeah, Billy Whalen,” Billy introduced himself again. Not just “this week” but the last three weeks but he wasn’t going to correct the host.

 That was the problem. He had come out to Hollywood to tape his episodes with only two changes of clothing and no long-term plan of how to take care of himself. The production paid for his flight and his hotel room but other than that he was left to his own devices. He got paid $10 a day as an appearance fee, but his winnings were locked up until he ended his streak. He couldn’t drive and Los Angeles wasn’t terribly accommodating on the public transportation front.

There was a long weekend starting tomorrow that meant no taping on Monday, meaning one fewer day of meals and one fewer 10-spot provided. He always collected the leftovers at the end of a shoot day to tide him over into the weekend but he felt unusually desperate and was pushing his luck.

“Hardly behavior befitting a Quizboys champion to be stealing craft service, huh?” Mr. White teased him.

Billy froze and felt like he was going to cry, “I don’t want to, but we’re not shooting for the long weekend so I needed to take something to eat tomorrow.”

“I was just kidding around, loosen up, kid,” White said, smacking Billy on the back.

“We get catered meals on set, but if we’re not shooting I just stay in my hotel room and watch TV. I figure food left at the end of the day is stuff no one else wants so I can take it. It’s not really stealing, if it’s gonna get thrown away, right?”

White was sort of half-listening until the content of what Billy was saying sunk in, “Wait, No food. Alone all day in a room for… how long have you been on the show?”

“Three weeks,” Billy reminded him. That means he had been on-camera ‘introduced’ to Mr. White thirty times.

“Where are your parents, kid?”

“I came by myself,” Billy said with a tone of finality indicating he didn’t want to get into it.

“All that time by yourself. That’s awful,” Mr. White was horrified.

“That’s showbiz,” Billy threw jazz hands.

“Fuck it. No,” Mr. White took a stand, “Leave this. Come with me. I’m getting you a decent hot meal.”

Billy hesitated, “This seems like a conflict of interest. A Quizboy fraternizing with the host might smack of favoritism.”

“Why? I don’t decide who wins. I didn't write the questions. I’m just the dancing monkey who reads the cue cards. Who cares?” White shrugged it off.

“What about taping the bumpers for the affiliates?”

White sniffed, “Eh, fuck ‘em. They can use ones from last week.”

Billy walked meekly behind Mr. White as he charged out of the studio, still doubting if this was ethical but also really, really hungry.

White walked him to a kitted-out Suzuki Samurai parked around the block from the studio, “I don’t even get my own parking space on the lot, if you can believe it. Fuckin’ cheap ass production.” He sniffed audibly.

Billy was awestruck, “Is this your car?”

“One of them,” White grinned as jumped into the driver’s side, “Hop in.” Billy eyed the three foot rise from ground to car warily. 

He scooted over to the passenger side and extended his hand, “Sorry, I’m a bonehead. I’ll give you a hand."

Billy grabbed it with his foot on the edge of the running board, White heaved and pulled him into the truck.

White started the engine and peeled out of the parking space, jostling Billy out of his seat. He grabbed at the seat belt over his shoulder, trying not to be strangled by the awkward angle. Other cars honked, which White cheerily ignored, fiddling with the car radio to find a good station. 

Billy studied his host away from the studio lights and he seemed weird. Uncanny even. He wore sunglasses while driving even though it was already early evening but, Billy rationalized, he was a celebrity and that was par for the course. Billy couldn’t quite figure out why he looked so… wrong.

“Mr. White, do you always keep your TV makeup on after the taping?” Billy asked as he and the other contestants were scrubbed clean by the make-up department as soon as the cameras turned off, the more histrionic losers having already cried off half of it before the credits finished rolling.

“I wanna get out of the studio faster so I take it off at home when I shower,” White shrugged, pulling into traffic recklessly with a wide turn. 

Billy nodded. It made sense. It was really sticky, greasy thick stuff and it smelled oily. He couldn’t wait to get it off at the end of the shoot himself, but he didn’t have anywhere to be. If Mr. White was just waiting around to record audio bumpers today, he had time to take the make-up off, didn’t he?

 “Learn to drive, fuckhead!” White yelled out of the window at a car that honked at him, even though he was running a red light.

 The car was brand-new and lit-up impressively. The top of the line stereo pumped She Drives Me Crazy. White even sang along tunelessly. He sure seemed a lot younger than he did on set, but maybe it was the change of wardrobe or that his words weren’t written for him or that he no longer had the authority to give and take points from him.

"Your car's kinda dusty," Billy observed.

White glanced over at the powder on the dash and quickly wiped it away with a finger, "It's wind from the desert. It blows all kinds of dust and grit in the air. I must have left the window open. Forget it."

“It’s awfully nice of you to worry about me,” Billy said, “You probably have a lot of cool friends you could be hanging out with and, like, Hollywood parties to go to on the weekend.”

“Not really. Nah,” White dismissed, “Unless there’s promos to shoot or public appearances for the show at a mall or something I usually just stay home and watch TV, same as you.”

Billy assumed he was humoring him so he wouldn’t feel bad.

“But I can drive and have money and do adult stuff so it’s not exactly the same,” White qualified his answer, “I really wanted a hot dog right now so this worked out great for all parties.”

They approached a boxy building with bright pink awnings just off the intersection of LaBrea and Melrose.

“We’re not going to Spago?” Billy moaned sarcastically.

“No Wolfgang Puck on a first date,” White quipped back, pulling into the small parking lot behind the hot dog stand, “This place has been here forever. It’s a landmark! Orson Welles ate eighteen hot dogs in one sitting here! That's probably what's in those lost scenes of The Magnificent Ambersons, I bet. Just Orson scarfin' down wieners.”

“I thought it’d be in a building shaped like a big hot dog,” Billy said, trying not to sound disappointed.

“You’re thinking of Tail o’ the Pup,” White said, “You know Bruce Willis proposed to Demi Moore right here... Aaaand Aaron Spelling orders a hot dog from Pink’s every day that he’s working in his office up there.” White pointed towards the CBS studios up the block.

“Pink’s Hot Dogs appears in the opening credits of The Golden Child,” Billy said idly, dropping non-academic trivia after hours.

“Whaddya doin’ watching R-rated movies? That’s not a kid’s movie.” White taunted him, “Someone oughta put a parental lock on the cable box in your hotel room.”

“It’s only PG-13,” Billy defended himself, “Fifteen uses of ‘ass,’ two ‘asshole’s, eleven ‘shit’s, three ‘bastard’s, two ‘hell’s, and one ‘goddamn,’ but no f-words at all!”

“What, did you have a bingo card you were filling out?” White mocked him with a snort.

It was late but there were still a dozen people waiting in line at the stand. White mentioned that the line is twice as long during the day and it wouldn’t be more than a few minutes before they got to order as he sniffed and wiped his nose.

"Do you have allergies, Mr. White?"

"Something like that," White shrugged, "Get anything you want, kid. It's on me."

Billy studied the menu card in front of him, with the dozens of hot dog combinations with celebrity names, “I guess I just want a plain hot dog.”

“C’mon. Live a little, Billy!”

Billy sighed and announced, “I want a John Tesh dog with onion rings. And an Orange Crush!”

White nodded and ordered, “Gimme a Marlon Brando. A John Tesh. A side of Tom Berenger and an Orange Crush.”

White paid and waited, Billy walked around to the patio to claim a table. They settled in to a hot dog feast al fresco in the cool of evening.

A woman in a bikini roller skating down LaBrea with a boa constrictor around her neck passed 

“Welcome to Los Angeles,” she said, skating a ring around their table, waving her snake as she moved on.

“She seems friendly,” Billy observed, a little confused.

“So,” White asked through a mouth full of chewed bun, “Why’s your head so big?”

“That’s pretty tactless, Mr. White,” Billy mumbled.

“What can I say,” White threw up his hands, “I’m a no-bullshit kinda guy!”

“I was born with hydrocephalus. It’s colloquially known as ‘water on the brain.’” Billy shook his head demonstratively, making a faint gurgling sound, “It’s better than it was. I had brain surgery after graduation so I don’t leak anymore.” 

“Huh,” White said flatly, “That’s cool.”

“I know I look kinda weird.” Billy muttered apologetically, breaking eye contact.

“What, are you nuts? You look fantastic!” White reassured him, “Despite the haircut.” 

Billy suddenly felt embarrassed. What was wrong with his hair? Half the teen idols on the cover of Tiger Beat had this haircut. He roughed it up with his hands. Maybe that would fix it?

“Actors hang out here during the day waiting to be ‘discovered,’” White mused while stuffing an onion ring in his mouth, “I never wanted to be an actor. This is my first TV job. I was on radio before this, but they needed someone fast when they shit-canned the old host for getting ‘handsy’ with the Quizboys.”

“Prof. Dolan? No way!”

“Yes way!” White argued back, “They paid plenty to keep it out of the Enquirer, too. Settled out of court with all the kids. A real shit-show.”

Billy was shaken. He had watched Prof. Dolan's reign as Quizmaster on the show since he was five. He always assumed he had just retired.

“He’d take the champ and the runner-up back to his dressing room and give ‘horsey rides.’” White air-quoted, slowing the words down as if this had some well-known double meaning. Billy didn’t know and didn’t want to know what he was implying. He caught Billy’s expression, “Don’t worry, you would have been fine. You weren’t his type— he liked blondes with sad eyes.”

“Are all grown-ups this fucked up?” Billy finally muttered.

“Language,” White tsked.

“Ugh, you sound like my mom.”

“Jeez. I’m not that old. I gotta talk to Wardrobe about the hokey suits they stuck me with. Like I’m frickin’ Richard Dawson!” Mr. White said indignantly, “I only graduated from State, like, two years ago. Less than that!”

“That’s what I’m using the prize money for! To pay for college!” Billy interjected excitedly, “We blew my college savings on medical stuff.”

“Keep winning like you have been and you’ll cover tuition, housing and textbooks and still have money left over for beer bongs.”

“My top choice school is MIT,” Billy announced and then added, “You sound like you might be from near there, Mr. White.”

“Me? Yeah, the general area, I guess,” White prevaricated. He thought he had done a pretty good job rounding out the corners on his regional dialect to Broadcast Standard English but the kid was perceptive.

“Have you been to MIT?” Billy asked, hopefully.

“They had a good radio station,” White searched his memories, “Back in high school me and my friend Donnie would steal his older brother’s car to drive down to see bands in Cambridge on the weekends. That’s as close as I got, though. Sorry.”

“I’m from the East Coast, too,” Billy offered, “This is the longest I’ve been away from home.”

White seemed distracted, rubbing his teeth and gums vigorously with a finger.

“Are you ok, Mr. White?” Billy asked with concern, “Do your gums hurt?”

“Huh?” White said, caught in a tick, “Oh yeah. Just giving them a ‘finger check.’ Gotta floss more. Gingivitis can creep up on you.”

“I think I just saw Dabney Coleman walk by,” Billy whispered excitedly while standing on his seat, craning his neck to see further.

“Hey kid, why are you still wearing that?” White asked, gesturing up and down to Billy’s blazer over a sweater and khaki pants with a knit tie that he was wearing during the taping.

“I don’t have any other clothes,” Billy confessed, “I didn’t think I’d still be doing this three weeks later so I didn’t pack anything else.”

“You’ve been wearing the same outfit every day for three weeks? That’s disgusting,” White turned up his nose.

“No, I have two outfits. I wear one while I wash the other one in my bathroom sink. I trade off every day,” Billy said. 

“At least take the tie off when we’re not on the show so this doesn’t look like a job interview.”

Billy slid the knot down and unbuttoned his top button.

“Better,” Mr. White pointed with the butt of his hotdog, “That settles it. Tomorrow I’m taking you to buy you some decent street clothes.”

“You wanna experience Los Angeles at the cusp of a new decade at the end of the Millennium?” White pontificated, gesturing broadly as they rode down the escalator, “Then you go to the mall. The Beverly Center Mall if you can swing it.”

“There’s a scene in Less than Zero set at this exact mall,” Billy quizboyed.

“Jesus Christ, don’t tell me kids are reading Brett Easton Ellis novels now,” White peered over his sunglasses. 

“And it’s in Beverly Hills Cop. Briefly,” Billy added.

“Ok, that one is definitely R-rated and—”

“Eddie Murphy says ‘fuck’ in it 60 times,” Billy said with a naughty smile.

They walked off the escalator, crowded by shoppers, as dozens of neon-lit store signs twinkled at them across the atrium.

Mr. White always looked really stylish and put-together, Billy thought. Even when they were just hanging out at the mall he had a deconstructed white linen suit over a pastel-colored t-shirt. Billy reached up to flick some specks of white from his otherwise impeccable jacket’s cuff

“Guess the powdered donut I had for breakfast got away from me,” White laughed.

“Or your dandruff shampoo isn’t working well enough,” Billy suggested snarkily, even though the placement of the white specs didn’t make sense for either of those explanations.

White was still wearing his sunglasses even inside the mall. They had only a slight warm amber fade to them so Billy assumed they were just his regular glasses he wore all the time but it made it hard to look him directly in the eye. He had a big expensive-looking watch– probably a Rolex or something, a small gold chain around his neck and a signet ring with a pink stone on his finger. The only off element was the silky bandana-type wrap he wore on his head— a kind of tight-fitting fabric cap that covered his hair completely.

“It’s a du-rag, Billy,” White had explained on the drive over, “I put a conditioning treatment on my hair this morning so I gotta keep it covered while the chemical processes. You call it vanity, but it’s all part of the job. Gotta be slick and shiny when the cameras roll next week, y’know.”

“It still looks super weird,” Billy felt comfortable enough with Mr. White to offer his opinion. He didn’t feel comfortable enough to bring up that it still looked like he was wearing his TV make up from yesterday or he had put on a brand new face of thick foundation even though they weren’t shooting that day.

White spotted the green sign of the United Colors of Benetton, steered Billy away from the Electronics Boutique and in the front door. Here was a brand that was trendy, but not too intimidating to a fashion novice with, presumably, pretty conservative tastes. Plus they had kid sizes.

“I applied to work here when I was in college. Never hired though,” White remembered bitterly, muttering under his breath, “United Colors, my ass. I guess ‘No Color’ isn’t included that union, huh.”

Billy wasn’t listening, just overwhelmed by the size of the store and all the bright colors. Pop music blared from the sound system. Blown up photos of cheerful diverse groups of young attractive people of all races wearing primary colored Euro-Preppy outfits on white backgrounds smiled at him from the walls. Inclusive, sure, but all of them had a head-size proportionate to their bodies.

Mr. White walked with him to the kids’ section.

"You're really going above and beyond, taking me shopping, Mr. White," Billy said, "Spending all your free time helping some kid you hardly know with his problems."

“It’s kinda fun. Makes me feel useful, too. Reminds me of when I was back living at home with all the cousins and nephews and neighborhood kids underfoot. Lookin’ after 'em. Keepin' em outta trouble. I never thought I’d miss that but being out here is kinda… I dunno... isolating?” 

"What do you mean? Don't you have lots of friends from being on TV?"

"It definitely helps when booking restaurant reservations, but otherwise... nah. I don't even hang out with any of the people who work on the show, it's too awkward. You never know who's on the way out or who's trying to get you fired or take your job."

Billy looked up a shelf that stretched up to the ceiling with tiny square cubby holes for socks in every color of the rainbow.

“You end up alone a lot of the time. Alone and doing nothing. Alone in your car waiting in traffic. Waiting for a call. Waiting to go on set. Waiting for someone to tell you to do something. Makes me feel like my brain is atrophying," White sniffed noisily and wiped his nose, "I used to be wicked smart before this gig, y'know?"

Billy watched his expression shift from melancholy to resolved.

"But not today! Today belongs to us," White went over to a table of folded sweaters in neat piles,"Pick out whatever you want. Get a week’s worth of clothes. Extra socks and underwear. I’ll cover you and you can pay me back out of your winnings.”

Billy hesitated. “Don’t make fun of me but… I’ve never bought my own clothes before. My mom always picked them out and told me what to wear.”

“Explains a lot of your ‘look,’” White sniffed. Billy pouted. “What can I say, I’ve got a good eye for ‘Sunday-Best picked-out-by-mom’ after 250ish fuckin’ episodes now. I tell ya I got sweater vests dancin’ before my eyes when I go to sleep at night.”

Billy snickered. White smirked, “Buying clothes doesn’t have to be a drag. Get something you like, not what your mom likes.”

Billy looked around at the sweaters on tables, the hanging racks, the open shelves with stacks of folded shirts. He didn’t even know where to start.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“I dunno,” Billy thought, “I like green, I guess. Green or yellow.”

“Good choice. Nice contrast with the whole carrot-top you got goin’ on.” White encouraged him while pulling a striped green pullover from a shelf and handing it to him. “Try it on in a couple sizes. These koo-koo European numbers on the tag are meaningless to me.”

Billy made a selection from the rack and walked to the dressing room, White followed him and sat outside the door while he dressed.

“From now on, bring your laundry to the studio on shoot days. Wardrobe can wash them for you,” he shouted over the door, “Unless you, like, crap your pants or something. Don’t bring that to the studio.”

“I’m not going to... soil myself,” Billy sputtered with disgust from inside the room, “Jeez Louise!”

"You say that now but you never know,” White shook his finger, “In a close game those final question challenges get pretty stressful.”

Billy groaned.

“Hey. Did you pack a bathing suit?”

“No.”

White pulled a pair of swimming trunks from a rack behind him and tossed them to Billy, “Get those, we’re going to the beach later.”

Billy hesitated, “Do I have to get exactly this pair or can I pick out one that will fit?"

___

Billy had donned one of his fresh new styles to make his debut on the Santa Monica boardwalk. A butter yellow rugby shirt with mint-green stripes over avocado green elastic-ankled slacks. He mussed up his hair to look beach-ready. For the first time in his life, he thought he looked pretty cool (allowing for the whole "built like a bobble-head and shorter than parking meter" factor).

Mr. White donned a bolero hat in bleached straw with a wide brim and switched to a pair of much darker tinted sunglasses. He draped a cashmere scarf in muted mauve over his shoulders. Being out in sunlight was unavoidable in Los Angeles, so he had strategies to protect himself while still looking the peak of yuppie au courant.

“C’mere kid,” White grabbed Billy by the shoulder and squatted in front of him. “You ain’t got much of a nose but it’ll still hurt like hell if you get a sunburn on it.”

Taking a dab of sunblock (top of the line stuff, from France) from the tube, he patted it on Billy’s nose and on the top of his ears. He squirted a streak across the palm of Billy’s hand and indicated he should rub it into any other exposed skin.

A woman in a bikini with a boa constrictor draped around her neck like a scarf roller skated the opposite direction as they walked down the boardwalk.

“Welcome to Los Angeles!” she shouted behind her in a sing-song voice as she whipped past.

Billy did a double take “Wait, is that the same woman from—”

White cut him off, “Nah, there’s tons of them.”

“This is gonna sound weird, Mr. White, but I’ve never been to the beach before,” Billy said, his hand on his forehead shielding his eyes from the sun overhead as he looked out at the small waves lapping at the sand.

“Really? Never?”

Billy nodded, “I’ve even been to California before— four times! Never once made it to the beach.”

White snorted derisively, “No beach. Just came out to admire our world-famous freeway system.”

“My mother didn’t consider the beach culturally or educationally enriching. Didn’t think it was a good use of my time.”

“She sounds like a barrel of laughs,” White said snidely.

Billy counted on his fingers, “I came out twice for academic tournaments at CalTech. Once for a conference at Stanford and once to… UC Irvine, I think. It was some UC school anyway. I was only three. Some grad students let me play Asteroids on a terminal hooked to a DEC PDP-11.”

White smiled nostalgically, “Ah, the DEC minicomps. Gorgeous machines. State had one avocado green.”

“Wow, you know about computers, Mr. White?” Billy was blindsided by Mr. White’s hidden depths.

“My sophomore year, I secretly coded a program in ours that would randomly generate different ‘fuck off’s to any subsequent entered commands. Made the Freshman lab seminar think the machines had attained sentience,” White laughed. 

“You can do computer programming, too,” Billy shouted, even more amazed. He already idolized Mr. White for being tall and handsome and cool, plus being on TV, but if he knew computer stuff, too, he was ascending to god status. Mr. White might even challenge Rusty Venture for his all-time personal #1 hero pedestal.

“Oh sure. I got my BS in Computer Science. I ain’t just a pretty face, y’know.” White winked, “Theoretical and practical. Hardware. Software. Circuit engineering. Hacking, Cracking and limited Phone Phreaking.”

“That’s so cool,” Billy bounced on his heels, having found a kindred spirit, “You’re a scientist.”

“Scientist-Non Practicing,” White clarified, “Other than working as an involuntary help desk every time a boss bought a computer, I haven’t actually used those skills since graduation. I’m probably really behind the technology. I only got through C, never mind the C++.”

“How did you end up being a TV star if you were a computer scientist?”

“‘Star’ is really pushing it, pal,” White dismissed. For a smart kid, Billy was investing the low-budget production with way too much pop-cultural influence. It wasn't even a network show, just pretaped and syndicated to a patchwork of markets. White would make more money managing a Gap Kids or a Banana Republic over the chicken scratch he was paid. 

His condo and his car leases were covered by his… other job.

“You’re squinting pretty hard there,” White noticed.

“I don’t have any sunglasses and no hats will fit me.” Billy sighed. “I’ll be OK.”

White made a bee line for a kiosk on the side of the boardwalk, gesturing to Billy to follow him. A standard little pushcart, stocked with water wings and beach balls and extra tanning lotion. Of interest to them was the rack of cheap hats and sunglasses.

“This looks like it’ll fit,” White joked, putting a kid’s inflatable pool ring on Billy’s head like a swan-headed crown.

“It doesn’t give me any shade, does it?”

White pointed at a rack of cheap neon-colored plastic sunglasses. Billy scowled.

“They’re not going to fit.”

“Humor me.”

Billy sighed and demonstrated, slipping the glasses arms over his temples, warping the hinges long before the bridge met his nose. He forced the glasses on with a shove, the arms digging into the side of his head before snapping off from the pressure and they fell from his face.

“You break it, you bought it, chief,” barked the vendor.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” White mumbled, handing him a couple of crumpled dollars while still combing the racks. He found a plastic sun visor on an elastic strap. He snapped the elastic and showed it to Billy.

“How about that? Pretty clever.”

“No way. I’ll break that, too.” Billy predicted.

White thought and then grabbed a second one, paying the vendor for both. He pointed at a fluorescent green boogie board in Billy was examining. “And I’ll take that, too.”

White gave Billy money to get them both frozen yogurt and sat down with the two sun visors. With the Swiss army knife in his pocket he cut the elastic off the first visor and used it as a donor to extend the length of the second. He didn’t have the means to sew or staple it on so he tied it on in a flat-lying knot. He bent a paperclip into a little slider to keep the free end slightly adjustable. It wouldn’t last more than the day but it was good enough to let the kid wear a stupid sunhat the same as any other normal kid could. 

He finished up his jerry-rigged creation just as Billy returned, handing a paper cup to White without ever detaching his tongue from his own chocolate-vanilla swirl cone.

“Taa-daa,” White announced, holding up his creation, “I MacGyvered it.”

He slipped it over Billy’s head— the transparent plastic visor looking woefully tiny on his forehead, but actually casting a little shade over his eyes— and tugged on the loose elastic to cinch it on. It fit.

“You actually did it,” Billy said, “I’m totally, totally impressed.”

“Now let’s get to that beach you’re here to see.” 

Finding a stretch of empty sand, they left the boardwalk for the beach proper. White hung back towards a bench with a city-provided parasol covering, well in the shade. Billy kicked off his shoes, pulled off and tossed aside his flashy Benetton duds revealing the swim trunks and t-shirt underneath. 

“Before you go in, lemme refresh your sunblock or you’ll look like a boiled lobster on camera.”

“How about you Mr. White?”

“I’m already all blocked up. I took care of myself before I left the house,” White waved him off. Billy noticed Mr. White seemed to have put more clothes on since the morning, he was wearing his driving gloves on and had a long-sleeved shirt buttoned right up to the edge of his throat, plus that scarf draped over top.

“You’re not going to go in the ocean?”

“There’s a provision in my show contract that I can’t get a tan. It fucks up the lighting in the studio if I’m a different color. So I have to stay in the shade.” White gestured at the beach umbrella overhead

Billy looked a little disappointed, “That’s not gonna be fun. We came all the way here.”

“I live here. I can go to the beach whenever I want. You run around and go in the water.”

Although disappointed, Billy accepted it. He grabbed his neon boogie board and ran toward the ocean whooping cheerfully, his oversized Fido-Dido t-shirt all but entirely covering him.

“Hey! Hey! Hold up!” White called out.

Billy trotted back obediently.

“Whaddya doin’ keeping your shirt on when you're in the water? It looks dorky. You scared someone’s gonna make fun of your fat boy tits or something?”

Billy screwed up his face, disgusted, “No! Of course not.”

He peeled off his Fido Dido shirt defiantly and threw it on the ground. He threw a stink-face and a crotch-thrust at White before dashing back towards the ocean giggling.

“Oh shit,” thought White. Not what he was expecting on the secondary sexual characteristic front. He was more than a few Tanner Stages off in his estimation of how old this kid was. Speedos didn’t leave much to the imagination and he definitely wasn’t wearing the right size. Billy seemed oblivious, hopping over the incoming waves on his stumpy surfboard and screaming in delight.

White sat on the bench, thinking. The whole day in retrospect suddenly felt kinda shady. How did he feel more like pedophile because the kid was older, that made no sense! He didn't have any kind of attraction to any fuckin' kids; he just felt bad and wanted to do something nice. He shook the thoughts from his head. Fuck what people read into it.

Billy took a break from swimming and padded up to him, his sea-salt-scented bangs clinging in fettuccine strips over his forehead. White handed him a rolled towel.

“How old are you really?”

Billy stared innocently, “Fifteen. Why?”

“All this frickin’ time I thought you were like seven or something.”

Billy frowned, “Because I’m short, right?”

“And the haircut, honestly.”

Billy scowled and shook his wet hair like a dog drying off. 

“The show thinks you’re a little kid, too, y'know. You were competing against 2nd Graders! I'm gonna have to tell 'em.”

“I never claimed to be anything. Your casting people made an assumption at the audition that I chose not to correct," Billy said snottily, “I could have shown my ID if they asked.”

“Yeah, well, Casting is coked to the eyeballs. They’d book a ham sandwich to be a contestant.”

“'Coked to the eyeballs?'” Billy repeated, confused by the phrase.

“Never mind,” White shrugged, “I’ve gotta pick up a package in Sylmar, all the way down in the Valley so I should get on the road soon. Are you ready to go?”

 Billy nodded, wrapping himself in a towel. They walked back to his car.

“Now that I know you’re actually a teenager I guess I should be taking you to more mature attractions, huh?”

“Can we go see boobie movies?” Billy asked, wide-eyed and vibrating with excitement.

“Not that mature,” White rolled his eyes, “Not if you’re calling a skin flick a ‘boobie movie.’”

—

His car idled in front of the hotel as Billy got out.

“Did you have fun today?”

Billy smiled and nodded.

“Whenever you feel sad sitting alone in that hotel room, call me up and I’ll take you out for ice cream or something. No one should be alone because they’re different.”

Billy was alone more for logistics than his personal uniqueness, but it was still a heartfelt gesture.

“Even if you just wanna talk about anything that’s bothering you,” He reached into his inside jacket pocket and handed Billy a business card, “Any stupid thing. I’ll listen. I get it. I’ve been there.”

Billy turned the business card over in his hand, confused. Tasteful thickness, eggshell texture. “But it’s blank?”

White grimaced, “It’s printed white on white. Tilt it in light.”

Billy held the card up at an angle and the name Mr. White followed by his phone and a pager number flickered in subtle glossy relief to the pale nimbus background. There also was a thin edge of powder grains stuck to the long edge for some reason. He flicked them off.

Billy squinted at small writing next to his name “Why does it say '250 per gram, delivery no pickup' at the bottom?” White ignored him, and clasped his hand.

“If you’re feelin’ alone in the world just... know I’m here for you, kid.”

“Same for you,” Billy said back, but then second guessed himself. “I mean, if that’s not too presumptuous, Mr. White. I don’t know anything about your life. I’m just a kid but… it schucks to be alone all the time.”

“Yeah,” White agreed and sniffed.

“Goodnight, Mr. White.” Billy looked up at him with his puppy-dog eyes, “Thank you. Really.”

to be continued...

I gave up on posting fiction here because lack of interest and tumblr's annoying text layout but this story has TWO Illustrations and is mostly self-contained so maybe some fan might stumble onto it and get some enjoyment out of it, y'know.

→ Chapter title is a 1991 Boys II Men hit. Did I think it came out in 1989 when I titled this chapter? A little bit.

→ On a TV or Movie set, “craft service” is an assortment of snacks that is set out for the cast and crew to nosh on during breaks in shooting. Because hot meals (provided by a different department “Catering”) come at weird times on shoot, craft service keeps people on set (not ducking out to buy food). There’s a hierarchy of who gets to eat when (eg, SAG actors before non-SAG). A green room is the waiting room for guests (different than a dressing room— one room shared by all the guests) appearing on a talk show or game show and there’s usually a catering tray there, too.

→ Most facts about swearing in Eddie Murphy movies, Pink’s Hot Dogs and the Beverly Center Mall are accurate. I made up some of the hot dog names; I don't know what was on their menu in 1989. The Beverly Center Mall was the setting of 1991’s Scenes from a Mall, which was shot a year after this chapter is set.

→ A lot of that business card crap is a lift from American Psycho. Another novel by Brett Easton Ellis, came out 1991/set in 1987, movie made in 2000.

→ If anything else that needs explaining, ask me

→ the rest of the story is on AO3, but this flashback is a one-off scene. (It mostly takes place in 1995-1996 when Billy is 22, living in the trailer in the desert.)

A Conjectural Technologies backstory story ('95-'96ish) → with illustrations ←

Billy has a crush on the mean grrrl who works the video store. Pete disapproves and suddenly finds himself ever-popular with a whole new fan base

[theswordwizard]

i cannot believe i keep seeing posts congratulating biden for a four day "ceasefire" (where the IDF CONTINUED to shoot people) over BLACK FRIDAY WEEKEND and saying "ohhhhh he's trying so hard guys we need to clap for him and the DNC, aren't we so glad we have a democrat in office right now" after they gave over 14 BILLION dollars to the israeli military? they scheduled a halftime break in the bombing and you act like they accomplished something real?

i'm also not that surprised, but definitely disappointed, at the amount of posts i've seen blaming "russian bots" for anti-biden posts. its over a year until the next election, and joe biden is CURRENTLY, RIGHT NOW, perpetuating zionist lies about Palestine and actively funding their genocide to the media! you realize that if a YEAR in advance of an election, if people are saying "hey this is fucked up, i'm not voting for someone who does this," the DNC doesn't actually have to run joe biden for the democratic nominee? biden said barely a year ago that he didn't intend to run again!

if every election "season" (that seems to get longer every year, proper campaigning for PARTY nominees have barely started, my god) every liberal blasts the messaging "Vote Blue No Matter Who," that the message you are sending to the DNC is that you will vote for whoever they pick out for you, regardless of whether it's in the people's best interests? if YOU TELL THEM that the only messaging they have to have is how the republicans are worse, then that will be their strategy! and we already saw how that played out with hillary!

hillary did not lose because you didn't yell at enough people online, hillary lost because the DNC played poker and INTENTIONALLY propped up and gave additional airtime to trump because they thought that even a generally disliked democratic nominee could win against him! and they were wrong! you CANNOT win an election on "that other guy sucks," because the average american is not reading your callout posts. the average, non-party aligned american, is gonna watch the debate and go "wow I don't really like either of them, I can't afford to not get paid for the hours it would take to vote," because the average american is not a hard leftist or a chronically online liberal.

joe biden won because he campaigned on the promise of student debt relief and fixing covid, and he did neither! sure, he made some small, unflashy, means-tested improvements, but no one even got the 10k reduction that he kept dangling. we can blame the republican party all we want, but what people remember is that joe biden did not do what he promised people. prices are still getting higher and people are still struggling more and more. it's not convincing, and he's not likeable.

if you want to yell at people for not toeing the party line or whatever, a better use of your time would be calling your representatives and getting more involved in local elections. school boards, city councils, state and district representatives, those will immediately effect people's lives in your area!

as more and more information comes out about what is happening in Palestine and the US's part in it, the more unappealing joe biden is as a candidate. if anything, you should call your senator and tell them YOU and anyone you know won't be voting for him, if you really want a chance for a democrat to win the next election.

[patheticlittlemen]

WORK WIFE

[Edward Nashton x male reader]

Chapter 1- Do You Ever Get Scared?

Drinks with coworkers won’t change your life. Right?

Words: 1880

Warnings: None

A/N: Reader is FTM and autistic (not huge plot points but may be mentioned in minor ways)

Being a receptionist wasn’t really the plan for your future. Honestly, you’ve had stars in your eyes since you were a child and finally getting out of Gotham made you believe you could maybe, just maybe, leave a mark on the world. But eventually, it all came crashing down, and look where you are now. Working a receptionist job at a forensic accounting company in Gotham.

You hate this city. Getting out and going to college was supposed to be your salvation, but if there is a God, he is a vengeful one. So here you are, working at a company you couldn’t give less of a shit about. You lost all your friends when you moved out of Gotham, so when you came back all you had was your mom. The most exciting Friday night plan was binging TV and eating takeout.

Today was no different from any other. It’s Friday, so of course you’re excited for the weekend but are also dreading the terrible loneliness that came with it. Lost in your own thoughts and mulling over shows to watch tonight, you spot movement in the corner of your eye.

You look up and jump at the sudden appearance, relaxing when you see that it’s Edward Nashton. He’s an accountant in the office and probably the closest thing you have to a friend. You only see him at work but enjoy every conversation. Edward smiles at your surprised expression.

“Hey. I brought you some coffee.” He says, placing a paper cup on your desk. “Cream and sugar just how you like.”

You smile thankfully at him and take a sip.

When you first met Edward, he was shy and tensed up any time you talked to him. After working together for a few months, he finally loosened up and became more friendly. You’re glad he did because if he had kept his distance you probably would have had a psychotic break due to isolation. You will admit you’ve grown a crush on him, but you’re too afraid of rejection to make a move.

“I hope you know when I get rich and famous, I’m gonna pay you back for all the coffee you’ve made me.” You say jokingly.

“I’ll take it. What would you get famous for though?” Edward leans against your desk.

“Hmm.. probably for being the best receptionist in the world.” You say overdramatically as Edward lets out a chuckle.

“You’re definitely the best at this company.”

“Well, I’m flattered.”

The sound of the door opening catches both of you off guard as someone enters the building. You shoot an apologetic glance at Edward, who smiles understandingly and walks off while you deal with the guest.

After sitting for hours and greeting maybe two more people, you get up to stretch and go to the bathroom. You smile at your coworkers who were talking in the break room and go to do your business. Once you exit though, someone in the break room stops you.

“Hey Y/N, we’re going out for drinks tonight and want everyone there. You interested?” says Benjamin, someone that you didn’t know well but was always cordial to you.

“Oh! Yeah, I’ll go,” you say, excited for the chance to be around people outside of work.

“Awesome. I’ll text you the details.” He said, smiling as you turn to walk away.

You begrudgingly walk back to your desk and prepare to waste more time. About half an hour passes when Edward comes back to your desk. You look up, once again surprised to see somebody.

“Oh, hey Edward. What’s up?” you say, looking back to the intense game of solitaire you were playing on your computer.

“Nothing really, I was just… wondering if you were going out tonight. To the thing. I mean, drinks with everyone.” he seems uncharacteristically nervous and stumbles over his words.

“Yeah, planning on it. You?” You glance up at him and his cheeks turn red. He mumbles something in response but clears his throat and speaks up.

“Yes, I’m going. I was just asking because I think we live in the same area. I thought we could carpool.”

“Oh, that’s right. That works for me, who do you want to drive?” you say, feeling eager that he wants to go with you.

“I can. I don’t drink much anyway.”

“Sounds good. Here, give me your number so I can text you my address.” You say, opening your contacts and passing him your phone.

Edward accidentally touches your hand while grabbing your phone and you could feel that it was sweaty. Luckily your hands don’t sweat much otherwise you’re sure he would feel the same thing from you. He hands your phone back with an awkward smile.

“Awesome. I’ll text you after work.”

“Cool. Uh, I guess I’d better get back to… what I was doing.” Edward says, nervously shuffling away, which makes you laugh a little.

Edward hasn’t been this timid since you met him, which confuses you a little, but you brush it off as him being nervous for tonight. Speaking of, your phone buzzes and you see a text from Benjamin.

Benjamin: We’re planning on meeting at Gotham Trade around 6:30 PM. Hope to see you there :)

The rest of the day drones by with you passing the time thinking about what you might wear while playing (and losing) games of solitaire. Finally, the clock hits 5 and you quickly gather all your stuff and practically run out the door. The promise of human interaction with anybody outside of work, let alone Edward, made you giddy.

After arriving home, you realize you haven’t texted him yet. You pull out your phone and open your contacts to Edward’s page, trying to ignore any nervousness you had about texting him while clicking the message button.

Y/N: Hey Edward, it’s Y/N. Just wanted to send my address and let you know I should be ready around 6 or so.

After sending the message and your address, you drop all your stuff and make a beeline for the shower. Admittedly, it had been a while since your last one. At the moment dry shampoo was your best friend.

After calming yourself down with a warm shower, you try to choose an outfit. Gotham Trade isn’t a very fancy place so you don’t want to wear anything super nice. Still, you want to look good so you spend a little extra time digging through your closet and eventually settle on a white button-down under a sweatshirt. Not too nice but a little more than casual. While grabbing a pair of jeans from your floor and checking to make sure they still smell clean, you hear your phone buzz.

Edward: Sounds good. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.

You feel butterflies in your stomach at the thought of Edward coming to pick you up. Pushing the intense feelings down, you continue to get ready. You decide to use a nice cologne that had been sitting on your dresser for a while. It was a gift from your mom for your last birthday and it made you happy that you finally had a reason to use it. You spray some on and grab your phone to check the time, seeing a message from Edward.

Edward: Heading out now.

You didn’t even realize how close to 6 it was and frantically put on a pair of shoes. Using the last few minutes to mess with your hair, you pray that it would stay neat as your phone buzzes again with a message from Edward letting you know he was here. You double-check to make sure you have everything you need as you leave your apartment, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

It’s just Edward. It’s just a work get-together. It’s not that serious.

The chilly wind bites at your face when you step outside and you wish you had put on another layer before you left, but it’s too late for that now. Edward is parked next to the curb, anxiously looking around. You wave to him and his face relaxes a bit as you walk up to his car and open the door.

“Hey,” you say, settling in the passenger seat, “thanks for driving me.”

“Oh, it was no problem. It’s nice to see you outside of work, plus we live close so it made sense to me.” Edward says, pulling onto the road.

While Edward focuses on driving, you took this opportunity to get a good look at what he was wearing. He had on a button-up shirt like he did to work but had jeans and a dark green cardigan on as well. You notice that his hair looked a bit wet, he probably took a shower after work too. Suddenly you were pulled out of your observations as he glances over at you. Blood rushes to your cheeks as you look away.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Edward.” You mumble, trying to alleviate the embarrassment of being caught staring. He chuckles at your statement.

You stared out the window for a moment until gaining the courage to compliment him.

“I like your-”

“You look-”

Both of your sentences die out as you wait for the other to finish. When neither of you continues, you laugh and speak up.

“I just wanted to say I like your sweater. Green looks nice on you.” Edward smiles at that, letting out a sheepish “thanks”.

“Um, I think you look nice. You smell good too.” Edward’s brows furrow a bit at the last comment as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“Thanks! It’s a cologne that was a gift from my mom and I’m glad to finally use it.” Normally when you got nervous you had a tendency to ramble but luckily you were able to stop yourself there. You feel kind of silly about how anxious you were. It was as if you were a middle schooler going on their first date. You struggle to come up with something to break the silence until Edward speaks up before you.

“Have you ever been to this bar before?”

“Once or twice, with my mom. I’m not a huge bar person.” You admit. Edward smiles, nodding.

“I’ve never been there. I just don’t get out much I guess.”

“Well, this is a great time to start. Maybe you’ll meet some pretty lady tonight. Or a man, you do you. I know I sure wouldn’t mind some company tonight.” You joke. Edward laughs nervously and glances at you.

“I doubt it.”

“Who wouldn’t want a piece of you? I know I’m holding back every time you come to my desk.” You say, regretting the sentence the minute it comes out of your mouth. It came out as a joke, as you had a tendency to jokingly flirt with your friends but you still hope any sincerity in the confession was hidden.

Edward doesn’t say anything for a second but his grip on the steering wheel tightens. He then lets out a chuckle, shaking his head as his car approaches the warmly lit building. You look out the window at the buildings and hope you’re able to make it through the night.

[quinntanaeg]

Wrong Turn

It's alright to be a redneck

It's alright to ride around in a dirty old truck

Catch a bunch of fish and shoot a bunch of duck

It's alright to be a redneck

Chase around the girls on Friday night

You want to make them feel alright

Three brothers drove in a beat up, old truck on winding country roads. The two oldest, and closer in age, sing along to the radio. Both have sandy blonde hair and green eyes. One had shaggy, curly hair. They're not built large but it's obvious they work out. They wore similar plaid shirts with jeans, steal toe boots, and cowboy hats.

The younger brother sat in the middle. He just recently turned eighteen and his older brothers had a surprise for him. Unlike his brothers, he was wearing a cameo hunting jumpsuit. His hair was dark but it too was shaggy, though straight, unlike his brother.

"You're going to love our surprise, little bro." The brother not driving said then ruffled the eighteen year old's hair.

The teen pushed his brother's hand away and fixed his hair. "It's not much of a surprise. I already know we're going hunting. You guys go every weekend during the season."

"Ha!" The driver laughed. "This isn't a normal hunting trip."

"We got something special planned for all of us to celebrate you becoming a man."

The teen had no clue what his brother was talking about. What could they possibly do on this hunting trip that was so special, and why were they shouting like animals?

Whilst most students spent their fall break at the mall or partying, the glee club were going on a camping trip. According to the faculty advisor, Will Schuester, the trip would be good for bonding, something they apparently needed if they are going to win the regionals singing competition.

A Latina teenager struggled to free her luggage from the very full trunk of her vehicle. She grumbled and cursed in Spanish.

"Babe, if you cleaned your car more often you wouldn't be struggling right now." Said a hazel eyed blonde.

"I don't need a lecture, Quinn, I need help."

Quinn took the Latina's place, planted her feet, held the luggage, and pulled as hard as she could. It took three tries to get it free.

"Thanks, baby." The brunette smiled then lovingly kissed Quinn.

"Now I'm baby?"

The Latina nodded and presses their lips together again.

"Quinn, Santana, enough PDA! We're all waiting on you!" The glee club faculty advisor Will Schuester shouted. He stood by the door of the bus as he counted each student as they got on, making sure no one was left behind.

Santana pulled away with a huff. "Why did our parents have to give us permission to go on this stupid trip? It's too cold for this shit. Who goes camping during the fall?"

Quinn shrugged. "Just remember it's only for two days. Then we can have a glee free fall break. Just the two of us."

Santana smiled. "I can't wait."

Again, she closed the gap between them, kissing the blonde.

"Santana, Quinn, let's go!" Will shouted again.

Santana groaned. "Two days." She whispered to herself, although, Quinn could hear the brunette. "Just two days and it'll just be me and my girl, glee free." She continued as the girls gave Will their luggage and finally got on the bus.

The couple sat in the back with Brittany, Mercedes, Tina, and Kurt. Brittany sat with Kurt, and Mercedes and Tina sat together. The boys, and Rachel, sat in the middle of the bus, while Will and the co-faculty advisor, Sue Sylvester, sat at the front.

"How did you score the backseats?" Santana asked no one in particular.

"It didn't take us almost twenty minutes to get our bags out of our cars." Mercedes joked. "Our cars don't look like an episode of Hoarders."

"Your car was on an episode of Hoarders?" Brittany asked Santana. "I love that show."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay. Everyone is a comedian. We get it."

At the front of the bus, Will stood and clapped to get the glee club's attention. "It's going to be about a two or three hour drive to the campsite. So, I suggest that everyone get comfortable. When we arrive at the campsite, all of us are pitching in to put the tents together. There are two. One for the girls and one for the boys."

"You never said anything about tents?!" Mercedes shouted.

"I thought we were staying in cabins?!" Shouted Rachel. "We're going to freeze to death!"

"I'm not sleeping on the ground!" Said Santana.

"Relax." Said Will. "The tents are big enough so we won't be cramped together, and no one will be sleeping on the ground." He assured Santana. "Coach Sylvester managed to get everyone their own cot, and no one is going to freeze to death. I've been keeping an eye on the weather, it'll be cloudy with some chilly air. We'll be fine."

The girls seemed to relax, however, Santana still didn't like the idea of sleeping in a tent with Rachel Berry, and wasn't shy about sharing her feelings on the matter. Surprisingly, the usual defensive Rachel did not react.

"What else are we doing on this camping trip, Mr. Schue?" Finn asked.

"We have a lot of bonding activities planned. Hiking, don't worry, Artie, the trails will be accessible to you, there's a lake to do some fishing, we got ingredients for s'mores, I brought my guitar, we can do some singing around the fire. It'll be fun."

Santana rolled her eyes. "I'm so over this and it hasn't even started yet."

Quinn smiled at how dramatic her girlfriend was being. She kissed Santana's cheek. "In just two days you'll have me to yourself."

The brunette took a deep, calming breath. "Right, you're right. I just have to get through this stupid camping trip first."

Want to read more? Click the link.

[klebald]

I just saw your reply, apologies.

personally I can't handle repetitive days. they're so boring. school is hell — classes suck, people suck, grades suck, teachers suck, so do with that what you will. practice is okay I think. boring but it keeps me away from my house while my parents are home. I only really have to worry about monday, thankfully. I have theatre on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, and air rifle on Wednesdays and the weekend. As for the horrors, they're there. Part of my life I guess. Sucks but I can't do anything about it.

dead again I fear. I actually prefer busy days, actually. No time to do nothing, gotta stay on the grind I guess. I hate writing essays. it's ironic really, considering I spend around 95% of my free time journaling. what is ddr? I think I've heard of it. him gaining weight does not break the appeal. I still love him : ).

how have you been recently, other than all the things that have been happening here?

Not any problem, worry not! I'm sorry to hear that repetition isn't your forte. I hope that you fall out of that loop soon... All of what you listed is absolutely correct, and there is no fault in thinking in that way. Gawd, do they. School really is the worst, huh? Practice, I can't say that exactly sounds the most ideal or fun either, but, just as you put it, it keeps you out of the house. Like I had said before, plain nosey of me to be so curious about your personal life, and you added specifics that I appreciate greatly. Air rifle sounds like a lot of fun, save for me questioning it taking up your weekends, I am not entirely sure about that, but, there's a chance that school wouldn't be nearly as insufferable if they offered something like that at mine. Shooting in general is quite fun. The horrors are still sticking around? Are you chronically haunted, Nicholas..? Do I need to call somebody, perhaps a ghostbuster? :^) That would occupy your time nicely, bring a dead day some life. I apologize for being so stupid with that, I really couldn't help myself, heheh. Busy days are my least favorite as of current, I spoke too soon when I said I was hoping school would occupy my time because it has done nothing /but/ that. I just got done with a sociology assignment a little while ago, after I was left with an ominous message from my teacher that inspired me. I can confirm, I mutually hate essays, still and always. It's only fun to write big paragraphs of nonsense when it's nonsense I want to talk about, like this! Journaling also falls under that. DDR is Dance Dance Revolution, a game that I find myself entirely normal about in my behaviors, one that I do not go through withdrawals for. I can behave, manage on my once a week, I say. Considering that we are in the TCC, you most certainly have heard of it. That coincidentally reminds me of Hercules, considering he needs the exercise. Fatty. I am glad that him growing into kitty cat boyhood doesn't shoo you away! I promise to get a nicer photo of him the next time I visit. Aside from... Everything that I just wrote, and everything else inescapable that you already know of, things have been well for me. I have been going on a lot of walks recently! That is fun, but, tiring, and my feet are killing me today. Not much else to really detail, I am a boring person.

[40sandfabulousaf]

大家好! I found an anago and unagi donburi at a restaurant and asked Pa whether he wanted to try it. He did; on top of that, he asked to try something new - to support our government's push to go green, instead of driving to the mall, he wanted to take the bus and train. Of course I said yes. Pa hardly takes public transport so we took it as a challenge and an adventure. I looked up bus routes and told him which bus to take and when to get off at the bus interchange (or depot). I'd meet him there, walk with him to the train station and take the train with him. Happy to say, we made it to the mall and restaurant and Pa did more walking than he normally does.

We ordered okra with sesame dressing and our anago unagi donburi. The okra whetted up our appetites so when the donburi arrived, we just tucked in after taking photos. Unagi is yummy but anago holds its own against this popular eel. Flakey, delicate and melt in your mouth tender, it was equally delicious. We liked that they didn't overwhelm the rice with sauce. I'm definitely coming back. We also discovered a restaurant which specialises in grilled fish next door that looks pretty good. After exploring the mall and doing more walking, it was time to head home. We took the train back to the interchange where I showed Pa where to wait for the bus and gave him directions about where to alight. He made it home safely and that was his little adventure. It was fun!

I brought Pa to the place which sells unpolished rice congee before, but not Mummy. Since she also eats moderately healthy, I introduced her to it so that she has another place to socialise over a nice meal. I added extra fish to our bowls of piping hot congee and ordered stirfried garlic pea shoots to share. Mummy loved the food so much, she polished off her bowl and her share of the vegetables. We also liked the generous amount of shredded ginger in our congee. MS really wants to try the food here, so next month, if our schedules allow it, I'll take him. This is 1 of the very few ways I enjoy eating wholegrains; it's actually delicious!

MI wanted to explore a newly renovated coffee shop near the office, so CL, SC and I tagged along to take a look. The stalls were brightly lit and it was crowded! After bagging a table, we ordered at the stalls we wanted to try. Haven't had bak chor mee for quite awhile. This time, I had meepok (flat yellow noodles) dry with vinegar and ketchup, no chilli sauce. It was alright, not especially delicious; definitely prefer soup or white (plain, without sauce). SC and I were disappointed to find that there wasn't any pork liver, which is a standard item included in bak chor mee. So whilst the meepok was very smooth and slurpable, the meal was just okay.

Well! It's already Friday. I'm starting to count down to my weekend getaway. So looking forward to it. This weekend though, I'll focus on getting enough rest. It's been hectic the last few days and I'm rather tired. A slightly longer break from work will definitely help. 下次见!

[veale2006-blog]

The Prisoner's Flower Friday, May 24, 2024 Anochee Eemkha In his loneliness and despair, the Frenchman Charnay, imprisoned for provoking the wrath of Napoleon, took a rock and scratched on the stone cell wall "nobody cares". One day, through the stones of the dungeon floor, a green shoot appeared and began reaching up to the light through the tiny window of his prison cell. Charnay was so touched by this, he kept part of his daily ration of water for the plant. It grew until it became a beautiful blue flower. The day the flower fully blossomed, Charnay crossed out the words "Nobody cares" and replaced them with "God cares". On hearing of this, Empress Josephine was so impressed with his devotion to the flower that she persuaded Napoleon to set him free. If a prisoner in a dark dungeon could find the love of God, how much more can you in the circumstances of your life? When situations look hopeless, look for the tender shoot coming through the cracks. Nourish and water the tender shoot of God's love, hope, and joy and you'll see something beautiful blossom. You will likewise be able to declare, "God cares".

Today's Mission Take a scripture and 'carve it' into your heart, and to every situation of your day. Refocus your thoughts today and meditate on the love of the Lord in your life.

2 Corinthians 12:9-10 9 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 10 Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.

Because of the extravagance of those revelations, and so I wouldn’t get a big head, I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan’s angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty! At first I didn’t think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me, My grace is enough; it’s all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness.

Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.

HAVE A BLESSED DAY AND WEEKEND!!

[malamai]

My weekend was a write off.

So as you will have all seen my mothersday was a bust and my week had YET ANOTHER HORRID END! I am not even shocked anymore when things go down now.

So in short Elijah was hospitalised because he'd had this really nasty chest infection since Christmas time that was passed off as viral by a ridiculous amount of healthcare professionals, despite me fighting to get him antibiotics because it was not viral at all and to no surprise of mine that chest infection turned out to be NOT FUCKING VIRAL. So he eventually saw a nurse, that unlike everyone else we went to did not have the brain activity of a fucking chicken nugget and got some antibiotics, some steriods and naturally she could see my frustration and was quite peeved herself at the state of him and fact that when she went through the notes on the computer that at least two other people had reported crackling in the chest along with damp sounds and not given him any medication. We started the antibiotics and the first course didn't do enough so he had to have another course and submit a Flem sample on Thursday.

On international women's day on the Friday I had a shoot and Elijah was still not in school so I send him down to my parents house so my brother could watch him and my mother was just getting over a stomache bug but was fine, thought nothing of it, but I didn't know until the Sunday but she made him lunch. (I know, doesn't seem relevant or important, but it is a key part of the puzzle. Stay with me on this.) So he came home and all was well, the day was fun, it went swimmingly.

Saturday morning I wake up and Elijah isn't looking too good, but I just initially thought "wow the antibiotics have knocked him well and truly" I do my normal and make him eat something before he has his antibiotics which he did and then he took his antibiotic. Within 30 minutes he suddenly takes a turn for the worst and he just starts constantly vomiting, like barely a break, everything he drank came back up, he just could keep nothing down and he starts looking extra bad, I knew something just wasn't right, he's vomited for an hour straight, he can't eat, can't drink, can't take medication and he just cannot stay awake and he has puked everything up to the point where all that's coming up is bile and even that is coming up constantly and he went clammy. I went on the phone to 111 and they got a hospital to call and when the hospital called they wanted us there after I explained all the stuff that has gone on with him health wise recently and Lee was with me and I think at first he thought I was loopy because I got him to sit with Elijah and started preparing my house because I knew I wasn't going to be back the same day judging by the look of Elijah, so Lee is like "what are you doing and why are you doing it so fast?" Because I was preparing my handbag with chargers ect... rushing the washing up, tidying, making sure I had a bucked and towel to take with me ect... and I just said "I'm doing everything I need to do now because I honestly don't think I'll be coming home tonight and I suggest you do anything you need to do when I'm done because I think I'll need you to stay with Aura."

When we get to the hospital they check him over and they basically don't have the facilities to find out what exactly is wrong but the lady we saw was lovely and she said she could see why I was concerned and he definitely needed some medical attention so off we went to the next hospital and I knew we would be fine going to the next hospital because it was Darlington, we always go to Darlington over Durham hospital because none of us have ever had a bad experience there, everyone has time for their patients, they leave no stone unturned, there is no waiting around left to god and good nature, there are more facilities and it runs like a dream. So we got there and Elijah got sent straight back to pediatric observation, his heart rate crazy, pulse crazy, oxygen low, constantly vomiting and they took blood, found markers in his blood, saw he couldn't keep a thing down if he tried and they decided to keep him in for the night on antibiotics and fluid drips and keep giving him anti sickness meds. I was allowed to stay with him which I obviously did. I did not bank on a mothersday sleepover in a hospital this year but you know, here we are. The next day he finally stops puking and his stats look a little better and they toom samples of everything. He was diagnosed with gastroenteritis and gastritis on top of his chest infection he already had and he got out at around 6.30pm.

So flash back to when my mother made him lunch. She works in a hospital and she had what she thought was a bug but was a actually a case highly contagious gastroenteritis and Elijah was already run down on antibiotics so of course he was going to catch it. So I'm looking after Elijah, I get him settled on the couch and he goes to sleep, Lee took Aura again so I could have some rest and have a bit of time to get some sleep but I just wanted some fun so I hopped on my xbox, turned on fallout 4 and was just chilling with the dogs on my bed. While I am playing I have to pause because I start feeling really bizarre. I remember just feeling so hot, like my eyes were rolling and I felt like I was so full I was going to explode which is exactly what I did, by this point I know I have caught the gastroenteritis and gastritis and I just start violently vomiting on mothersday night and I violently vomited for 12 hours straight to the point where I could not even call anyone for help, my muscles actually hurt from wretching and I had ran out of energy and started going in and out of sleep and somewhere in the 9th hour of this I managed to actually make a phone call in-between puking to Lee and he said I sounded like I was dying and I puked twice in the 2 minute phonecall we had. I needed him to grab me some Coca-Cola because it was the only thing I could think would help and I needed to stop puking because I had my own problem already through Elijah being sick.

When Elijah got taken to hospital I forgot to pack my meds which was not good because you're not meant to just come off them, so I didn't have one from saturday all the way through until Tuesday night and I have really felt the affects of coming off them all of a sudden because I was dizzy and acting out of character, a friend checked in with me and noticed. I explained "I am off my meds through no fault of my own due to vomiting and the trip to hospital and I'm now scared to take one because I feel like it will make me vomit." But he told me I needed to take the pill, so I braved it and I felt better, not 100% but it took the withdrawal away and the horrid "I'm off my meds" side effects but I'm still feeling some effects now like sudden deep depressive hours in my day and I have no drive but it can't be helped and I know its rational but needs to be numbed my meds and I can't wait til I am all stable on them again because fuck feeling like that.

But yeah, basically my son gave me gastroenteritis and gastritus for mothers day and I gave myself withdrawal on top of it all and had to go to work on tuesday while still recovering and looking after my children. Thats literally what happened. 😅