#surely I can justify an extra $3 a month... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

unicorn-gallerexy · 8 months ago

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Howdy, I totally mean to post more and didn't do any of that but then i got stuck with this idea and getting it out so here ya go, i want it out my face. There will be part 2, but i need a break bc this too so long and is longer than i wanted it. Only mildly proofread, rada rada, yknow the drill

Word count: 12.7K (i managed to hit the end of like 3 keep notes, i ain't ever done that)

CW: (technical) Homewrecker!Atsumu x Wife! Reader, smut, (kinda/justified) cheating, manipulation and mild threats (not from Atsumu), open marriage (you weren't vibing with it), trash treatment from husband, Long af, Atsumu being mad bc wtf is up with your husband?

One for Another

When your husband asked his question, excited just after coming home, you thought you couldn't hear. Or maybe it was that you didn't understand?

Either way, you asked him to repeat himself.

"I want to open our relationship. It sounds like a good idea, yeah?" He smiles, like there's nothing wrong with his sudden asking, and the look you give him is blank before it obviously reads upset.

"Why?" You steady your voice a lot easier than you steady your mind. You were hurt, this was so out of the blue. Yes, he had voiced a bit of an issue with your extra few pounds, or how you didn't dress up more often, or how you didn't have as much sex anymore (which was more his fault but he blamed you and the weight you put on) but you were working in it. You started working out in your own home because he was insistent that other people, like his coworkers, could see you let yourself go. You worked on being consistent with skincare and wearing more clothes that flattered you. You were actually looking quite a bit better than you had before. At least you and your friends thought so...

"Because it's a great idea?" He says it so easy as if you should be understanding. Seeing as you don't look pleased, his smile drops and he heaves a sigh so heavy at the thought of explaining himself. "Look you and i haven't... Been on the same page for a while. You and I just aren't matching up right now, so i figured it would be good to open the relationship so we can fill in those gaps."

"What gaps? I've been working on myself for damn near two months now, solely because you asked. What am i not doing for you?"

"Jesus Christ, this isn't about you. It's about us being happy, and im not happy. Im also not just trying to leave you high and dry but im sure you're not happy either." He says the part about you not being happy as if it doesn't matter to him. His emphasis was on him not being happy, and the part of not leaving you sounded more like a chore than a willful choice.

He swept you off your feet and promised a life a comfort. He was working on a promotion, he complimented you regularly and the sex wasn't bad at all. You fell for his charm easy, and he seemingly fell for you just as hard. After a few years, he asked you to marry him and made it known you could depend on him completely. Your job was basically down the drain by the time the wedding happened due to higher positions deciding the right way didn't make them enough money fast enough. He said you could trust him to take care of you, that he'd keep you happy and comfy, that he didn't mind a housewife for a while. You let yourself fall into that role, it wasn't hard. The house he bought was sizeable but not too big, the chore list was never too long and you did indeed live comfortably.

Over time, through his several promotions to an executive seat, you moved into bigger and better, all while he coaxed you into being his lovely little housewife and homemaker. Anytime you talked of going back, he'd mention how the job market wasn't the best, reports of customers abusing staff locally, rumors he "heard" here or there about owners and managers of places you were looking into, and always mentioning how you complained of every job you had. How you hated working, but how you were basically just taking care of yourself and he was taking care of you by working and giving you a card of his he didn't need to keep track of.

This was more temporary than you thought it was.

In the last two promotions, he had been given an assistant that always seemed a little too close for comfort. If you ever brought it up, he'd only mention how he married you and how she worked for him, so he couldn't be cheating on you. He blamed your insecurities and said you were forcing your own self doubt on him, and how that wasn't fair. At first the responses seemed loving, in their own way, before they turned angry. He'd shout about you being insecure, how you were trying to accuse him of things you had no proof of. He'd leave the house and even when he came back, he rarely ever apologized. He'd simply place more money onto the card and talk to you as he normally would. He pretended to care with a kiss on the forehead and half holding you in bed every so often.

That didn't stop him from pointing out your mounting flaws over time. It didn't stop him from refusing any sort of advances you made, day off or not. Didn't stop him not inviting you to company events as he had in the past and instead saying he was going with *her instead because "family isn't invited this time around" as if there weren't pictures posted later of his coworkers with their wives who you know don't work for the company at the same event.

You would've left a long time ago, really. But he wasn't wrong in saying you were insecure. Or that he'd leave you high and dry. He managed to manipulate you into not having a job for years, which doesn't look the greatest when applying for new ones, which created your dependency on him for financial reasons but he also had preyed on the parts of yourself you couldn't stand, made you feel like he and he alone loved you, like no one else would or could love you. You defended his words when your friends brought up concern by citing that he was right, as no one had really come up to you to flirt or asked you out prior to him so there wasn't really much competition for you. And, at the time, he at least liked you.

All for it to be thrown back in your face now. The waves of realization hit like you're in a losing boxing match. You feel your eyes burn but refuse to let any tears fall. He, unfortunate as it may be, can still read you at least a little. He comes and wraps his arms around you in a hug that makes you feel slimy, but you don't pull away as there's no where else to go really. "Listen baby, this isn't just a good thing for me. It's a good decision for both of us. I'm not giving you what you want, you aren't giving me what i want, don't you think it's better to find those things in other people and still have each other to come home to? At least give it a shot." He insists. It's obvious to you now, he doesn't care about you finding someone, only about him being allowed to do as he wants without being called a name that fits.

Part of you want to ask, but you figure you won't get answers if you do. You feel backed into a corner with no real way to lash out. So, you give a reluctant and strained yes, giving in to your defeat in hopes it hurts a little less. He kiss the back of your head and quickly slips away from you, grabbing his keys and saying something about being back later before slipping out of the door. You hear it lock, you hear the car start and drive off, and looking at the time on the clock in the stove behind you, it now reads 7:38pm. You could swear he turned his head to look at it when he was behind you.

The weekend comes in shortly after, he says he's going on a trip and you don't bother to ask where to or when he'll be back. You're already distant and its only been a few days, not that he cares at all. He packs and leaves in a hurry, only sending a text of "I love you" about an hour later. You've yet to tell anyone, feeling overwhelmed with shame and stupidity at not seeing any signs earlier on to avoid this. Or maybe because you feel ashamed that you couldn't keep your husband satisfied? That he was seduced by someone you'd consider younger and prettier than you'll ever be. You're not that old, nor are you bad looking but that's not how you see it. Your eyes only seem to find more and more inadequacies each time you look into a mirror. From the bags darkening under your eyes to your hair becoming more tangled with your lack of care, from the flaring breakouts across your face from stress and ditching your routine to the weight you worked off coming back with friends because you wallow on the couch and dropped your workout routine.

What was the point?

You had nothing else to work towards. Sure you barely looked different from before him, and if you got back into all of it, you'd look basically the same as you did then, maybe a bit better, but what would be the point? No one wanted you before he did, he literally had no competition for your affection or attention. The only thing that's changed that you can't undo is the passing of time. Sure, in the grand scheme of things you really weren't that much older than you were then but, if no one wanted you then, who would want you now?

You couldn't give an answer, and thus your brain concluded with: no one.

You eventually wind up inviting friends over about 2 weeks into his trip and, not having heard from you for longer, they jump at the chance to see you. When they arrive, and you answer the door, disheveled in sweats, they can see that you're not holding up well and the sweet smiles and loud hi's drop. Being asked what's wrong sets off the water works, not having cried in or out of his presence made the dam behind your eyes too full, and concerned friendly voices opened the gates. You step aside to let them in and they immediately hug you, telling you to calm down enough to at least tell them what's wrong but the sobs are violent, shaking your body completely and taking the strength from your legs. They guide you to the couch, sit at your sides and tell you to cry it out, seeing as every time you try and speak, it's unintelligible.

When you manage to calm yourself enough in your friends arms, you don't lift your gaze from the floor, explaining why you haven't answered calls or texts and why you just spent a literal hour crying into them. To say their furious is an understatement. They shout question after question, most at how he could do this and feel nothing. You cry into your hands, and that's when they calm down, starting to throw suggestions, the first being divorce. You remind them of how he basically holds all your financials, your place to live, and a solid position in his company. Your friends sigh as they realize that leaving, at least now, isn't a real option. After a moment of quiet thinking, and soft sniffles, your first best friend grabs you by both shoulders with a smile. "Open relationship, right? That means you can also do what you want. We can get you back on track with all your routines and go out, take you with us on singles night!" She's beaming even if you don't look the most into the idea, your other best friend seeming to voice your thoughts for you.

"As if he'll actually let her have another relationship outside of him with no repercussions. Be real, May. He'd flip his shit because he just wanted to go out and fuck anything that breathes without being called a cheater" May pouts, having already thought of that in a more minor capacity.

"I figured that, Kura. We don't have to tell him shit. He's not even being that discreet about it, with the 2 of us helping her out, he'll never know." She leans to speak over your shoulder to Kura before looking back at you with soft, loving, hopeful eyes that you feel you haven't experienced in a while. "Maybe we can actually find you a real man who'll treat you right and wont do this shit. You don't deserve to just wallow here by your self." Her hands cup your face as she awaits an answer and you shake your head in her hands.

"No one wanted me before, May. Who's gonna want me now? I'm older and-"

"Still hot, at least when you're not distressed." Kura says from behind you, smiling with some sort of support for the plan. You shake your head as May keeps hold of you.

"Okay but everything is here, workout equipment and-"

"We'll take you to the gym with us! Kura has been wanting to get in there for a while but she keeps bailing on me. I'll take you two with me and then we're all obligated to go. We'll go on spa days, I'll call you so you don't have to acknowledge him while you do your routine here. Trust me, thought out much more than you think." May beams, Kura chiming in about possibly just moving rooms so you have space if you haven't already. Both paw at you and basically beg, saying it'll at least be good just to get out for a little while every day even if you aren't man hunting. You tear up again, and when asked why, you say you thought they'd me mad at you, tell you i told you so or something because you didn't listen when they spoke up. You're given the warmest embrace you've had in a minute as they tell you it's not your fault, it's his. He preyed on you, just to throw you away for nothing substantial. You cry, and say ok, agreeing to go with them and along with their plan, causing them both so squeal with joy before May goes to bolt upstairs.

"Where are you going?" You sniffle, caught in Kura's arms as you look up the stairs.

"To run you a proper bath. We're having an at home spa night now. You need it." She scrunches her nose in the way that makes you laugh and knowing you still have some happiness makes them happy.

The night goes on as they wish, both helping wash your hair and your face, saying you need a break as they pamper you and do their best to drive away the sadness in your heart, or at least distract from it. They help you move things into another room, opting to watch terrible B and latter alphabet movies, doing your face routines together and eating proper food since you've seen gorging on junk food for a while now. They opt to stay over for a few days when you tell them your husband wont be home for another 3 weeks. Both girls help you clean up, do laundry, and essentially reset your home to brinf back a real sense of normalcy. May sits and picks out a couple gym appropriate outfits, laying them on top of the dresser, before they leave you a couple days before your husband is supposed to be back. They kiss your forehead, hug you tight and tell you the day of a group gym trip so you look forward to it. Kura notes she wont back out if you don't, putting a sense of responsibility on you to ensure you don't bail last minute.

When your husband comes back, he finds you lounging about in the other room, only to ask a question you truly dreaded hearing. "Hey, I can still have the bedroom to myself for a bit right?" Behind the doorway, at his side you can see another shadow in the sunlight that bathes the house and a feminine giggle from behind him. You simply wave him off, a half hearted mumble sending him on his way to the bedroom, girl in tow. You hear the door shut, lock clicking into place as you curl into yourself and text your friends. They send you texts to just forget about it as much as possible, you telling them it's hard when you can hear them through the walls and know he feels no sense of remorse.

That was what killed you most, the fact he was doing it all and seemed to feel nothing for you. No remorse, no guilt or shame, not even the tiniest bit of pity even if it would piss you off. You realized quick he didn't feel anything negative about it, but that didn't mean it didn't suck to have such a blatant display of what you could only feel was disrespect. Then again, you're surprised it didn't happen earlier.

Your affluent living situation meant a very nice, expensive gym wasn't too far away. May and Kura didn't live in the expensive part of the city but they had good jobs and kept up with the monthly payment plan that even you and your more frugal upbringing balked at when you got the sign up paper at the desk. Once paying the overcharged fee and getting your membership card, May lead you and Kura around to show you the facilities the gym had to offer and blabbed about the famous and influential people she's seen in passing from actors to local businessmen to athletes. Kura and you keep up as she taps your arm for your attention. "I'm kinda starting to regret coming with May." She whispered, no malice behind as you nod and hum in agreement.

You feel exposed even if your fully clothed. The sports bra and crop you normally wear to workout at home suddenly feeling to short to be worn outside (even if you've done so a million times) and the yoga shorts holding your ass nicely feeling all too tight to be worn in public. You can't help the shy stance you keep as May guides you past a the sauna, pool, and cryo rooms towards the side of the building, keeping one arm wrapped around yourself and the other down at your side. Kura is dressed in similar pants, but her top is a loose cotton shirt you wish you'd gone for instead. May, being the one used to being here, is in a good sports bra and yoga shorts due to the weather. Once her tour is over, she guides you into the large workout room, complete with just about any and every machine you'd need for every part of your body. You wanna vomit.

You know you left to get away from your currently shitty home life but now you actually kinda regret coming. May turns with a big smile that falls quick when she takes note of yours and Kura's faces. She keeps hopeful, taking you both by the hands over to the treadmills that face out of the window. "We can start here so that you two can get a bit more comfy, yea?" You both nod and hop on, the 3 of you starting at the same pace and making mild small talk.

After you and Kura seem to loosen up, noted by you finally dropping your arm from around yourself, May takes the opportunity to switch it up and get you guys through some stretches. From there, it's basically downhill. May is fit, not annoying about it and it shows. She puts you and Kura to your limits and genuinely encourages you the entire time in such a way that's hard to be mad at. You're at it for hours until the final stretch for your cool down when she beams "And we're done! That was fun, wasn't it?"

"I regret.. My decision." Kura pants.

"Fun isn't what id give it but i mean..." You trail off with a weak wave of your hand on the floor next to Kura as May hops up to drag you both down the hall and to the sauna. When you both express dismay over the sound of sitting in a hot, moist room on a hot day after being worked to near death, May assures you that you'll just both feel so much better after and if you're so inclined, she'll take you to the actual pool for a bit after. You and Kura grimace at the thought of being more openly exposed than you already are at one another as you follow May and say you'll both pass on that part today.

Out of clothes, wrapped in towels, May hands off your clothing to one do the workers before noting to you as they leave that they're gonna wash them. You and Kura share a surprised look at her as she pushes you both into the (thankfully) empty sauna. She does everything to set it up and soon enough the room is hot and steamy, her eyes fixing to continuously check on you two as you close your eyes and drop your head to relax in the warm, wet heat. "So how long can we be expected to be alone in here?" Kura asks, scooting to put just a bit more distance between you two which you're thankful for.

"With how long we've worked out, not too much longer. But we don't have to leave or anything like that. We can basically stay in here for as long as we want, though it is recommended to leave at some point to prevent overheating." She sighs.

"With how much we have to pay for a monthly membership, we better be able to stay in here for as long as we want." You complain, Kura letting out a small laugh as she lays her head against the wall. She and May look at you, your head still down and eyes still closed.

"Black card for your thoughts, lovely?" Kura mutters, you shake your head before answering.

"Just thinking about home, unfortunately. Thinkin about how i let it get here honestly." Kura pushes your arm and you look at your friends, both sets of eyes stern but full of care as they note him and whatever he's doing isn't worth any more of tour head space. Kura throwing the idea to take him for what he's useful for and buy everyone lunch after, naming off pricy places your younger self could only dream of going. You laugh at her, especially as may joins in with the new ultra luxury bakery that just opened up and is known to be pure Instagram fodder and not actually good baked goods. Just as you near snort with laughter at their suggestions, about to cut in with something cheaper and actually good, the door opens and causes you three to scoot a bit closer to one another in a corner and 4 actually fairly familiar faces trail in, shortly followed by a duo that you can tell aren't with the prior 4. Your husband's work and you being his previous arm candy piece at work events let you passionately shake hands with plenty of elites, faces recognizable to you easy. The 4 who are making conversation amongst themselves are athletes, specifically the (debatably) most popular members of the team. Koutarou Bokuto, Shoyo Hinata, Kiyoomi Sakusa, and Atsumu Miya.

The other 2 are businessmen that you've seen at damn near every single even you went to with your husband, higher ups from a company his worked with. They were always hitting you in the worst way so your nose unconsciously crinkles before you turn to Kura and May. You aren't too surprised, May did say plenty of the wealthy who live close by here and even some who don't come to this gym just because of how nice and/or exclusive it is. You hope somewhere inside yourself that the duo doesn't notice you at all, as that would help the first day back to a workout routine all the better.

Of course, you cant ever have what you want. The universe curses you by making one of the idiot duo loudly recognize your left shoulder tattoo of a chubby kitten playing with stars from various franchises, like animal crossing fragments and Rosalina's stars from Mario games. "Oh shit! I remember that dumb little tattoo! Y/n, how have you been babe?" He says. You roll your eyes hard enough to hurt as you feel every pair of eyes in this small room land on you. You force a smile and turn your head, giving a strained hi and fine. He and his friend start to bombard you with questions at your minor acknowledgement. Your husband, what he's been up to and things like that. You answer most, half with lies as Kura leans over your back and tells them to call him if they've got "such a hard on for him" instead of harassing you.

Kura has taken on most of your lost bite while you work to get it back, and you find yourself plenty thankful for it. You don't miss the small snorts of laughter from the other side of sauna and neither do the duo on the other side of you. Not liking to feel any sort of embarrassment, and somehow deciding that the wife of their business colleague is their prime target, the second one opens his mouth with venom. "You know Y/n, i have friends who work with your husband. We haven't seen you at any of the company get togethers anymore, yknow? But we have seen him with this real pretty dame on his arm. You make him get a replacement so you don't have to be there or what?" They way you stiffen is visible and your brain short circuts on what to do next for a half second. Both have this smug smile on their face as everyone looks wide eyed at the two, and they look at you.

You stand, eyes lifting from the ground where you had planted them during talking to them initially. "The fact you two are so mad because you cant even get escorts to sleep with you, much less me when im married so you go around saying shit like that is honestly pathetic." Your hand slaps the one who opened his mouth before you can rethink it, turning on your heels to leave at you hear not just your friends but the other men in the room giving them quite the reprimanding as you float your way to where you can pick up your freshly washed clothes. You must've been in there for longer than you thought, as they're set out with your membership card on top to show ownership. You're quick to change as you hear voices outside looking for you. You step out and toss the towel into the bin they have out for them and your friends rush to your side and try to comfort you but you simply tell them to get dressed so you can go and eat.

They're dressed in a flash and following you out the front door, you never noticing the sets of eyes that manage to trail your form as you storm out with your friends hot on your ass, wiping your eyes. Once in the car, there's a beat of silence as they seem to try and find what would be the rihht thing to say after that. What do they say? Your tears don't wait, a uncontrolled sob escaping you before your hand covers your mouth to hold back the rest of the noise as you cry. He's so brazen about it, of course other people notice but the last thing you wanted was to be confronted with it anywhere else. You're hugged from two directions, hands rubbing your back and arms to soothe you as May says she wont blame you for bailing after that. You shake your head, taking deep breaths to calm yourself and taking the tissue Kura passes you from her bag to wipe your eyes and blow your nose before you close your eyes. Clearing your throat, you croak. "I'm still going to do it... I'm not gonna let this stop me... Even if it sucks..." Kura pats you on the back, saying she'll still be with you and May clapping at you not letting it throw you down without a fight.

You get to pick lunch. A nice sit down hot pot spot that's having a slow day, so they wave the typical time limit they have and sit you three in a cozy booth. You loose track of time, your friends being efficient in distracting your mind from the day's sour turn, laughing and eating to replenish some energy. You three can see the door, and have made a game of betting (without money of course) on if the groups and couples who come in have ever actually been to a hot pot place or if they came in because they think it's "exotic". It's a dumb little game that results in fun banter. Lo and behold, the bell advice the door dings again and in walk... The same 4 athletes who basically saw you getting outted as being cheated on. The MSBY black jackles, with the rest of the team in tow. The owner working the register guides them to the large booth in the opposite corner from you and your friends, who ask if you wanna go after seeing the 4 familiar faces. You shake your head, saying you're having fun and betting that the extra shy, probable assistant, hasn't been to hot pot before as you slip a leafy green veggie in your mouth. You're friends smile and agree with you're bet, and you let your night continue.

The three of you fall easy back into yourselves as the waiter comes to top up your broth for the 3rd time, never noticing the pair of eyes that seem to linger along your form here and there. You don't even notice how the same eyes trail you once again as you leave out with your friends, looking considerably happier than when you left the gym. He knows he shouldn't be looking so hard, but he just cant seem to understand. Why would a man who married you not want you or not want to show you off?

You keep to your word and go back three days later, muscles sore the day after from how hard May worked you both but you return nonetheless to join her again as she says you'll both get used to it and she'll keep the routine the same for a while to help speed up that process. She beams at both of your forlorned faces as she makes you both get down on the floor for your stretches.

She keeps to her word, and you get back into your prior habits as your friends remind you that self care shouldn't be tied to the scumbag you live with as they have now deemed him. Your days with them are your highlights, whether it's just lunch and the gym or if they come over to insult your husband in the guest room you've moved into. Your gym trips are a bit better for your mental health tho, having made a couple of friends through May's bubbly personal skills and being away from your husband's revolving door of women. You tend to avoid anyone who has more consistent contact with your husband or his job to avoid any more incidents like your first day and that seems to do you well, though you've of course run into several big names that have worked with his company or him once or twice. You don't mind those, especially since some are constant faces anytime you go to be whipped into shape by May.

Some of the more consistent faces you see are those of Athletes, specifically coming across the MSBY team again and again. The 4 who initially witnessed your sauna incident either didn't remember it or simply never seemed to show they did, none giving you any odd looks or pitied glances any time your eyes seemed to catch theirs in passing. You were always the first to turn away, never catching on to the way one of them seemed to stare. At least not at first. The more often you came, the more you saw them and vice versa. The more you saw them, the more he could stare. The more he could stare, the more you seemed to catch him and while he would avert his gaze elsewhere or focus of the weight in his hands, he'd still eventually find a way to stare at you again all whilst taking pride in the way you seemed to fluster under his gaze. That man was Atsumu Miya.

Of course, his blatant "eye fucking" as Sakusa would call it didn't go unnoticed by the others, Bokuto and Hinata scolding him for essentially hitting on a married woman. When away from other who knew nothing about the information they had heard in the sauna, Atsumu defends himself. "He's cheatin on 'er anyways and i haven't even said anything. Why can't i look?" The others always reply that it's not the point.

"They might be trying to work it out?" Hinata mutters, making all of them turn their nose and Atsumu respond with a "Fuckin hope not." The boys were raised on better teachings so, even if they were reprimanding their friend for his borderline inappropriate behavior, they still don't like the idea of some poor, pretty girl "working things out" with a man that obviously doesn't care about her. Atsumu's typical defense doesn't hold up for long though. As time passes, the more he sees you, the more he tries to find ways to talk to you. From bringing you and your friends water to engage in small talk under the guise of being kind before he's called back to managing to catch you and your friends as you're about to leave some other amenity after making sure he worked out for just a bit longer, saying it was to not slack close to a game, to be sure he caught you at the tail end of your swim or sauna sit. Atsumu continues to argue that there's nothing wrong with making small talk or incidentally running into someone in a shared public space.

"You don't even know what incidentally means, homewrecker." Sakusa shoots, Atsumu having an aghast expression at the word. Though, with more time and the tiny tidbits of info he learns about you personally, the more the insult seems to not matter. You're a nice convo partner, and he's just being nice, right?

Of course, you have other obligations to attend to aside from the gym. You know he still expects you to clean the house, that damn bedroom you can't find it in yourself to even look at much less sleep in anymore included, and make him (and guests he brings) food. You'd refuse if he didn't opt for the coercive method of throwing the fact you don't have a job right now in your face, guests there or not. You just go with it at this point to avoid talking to him, moving away or giving minimal acknowledgement when he tries to soothe you with empty hugs and worthless words. So the supermarket is your other safe haven. No hard work, no husband or women he's fucking, no real stress aside from not finding something you're craving. Crossing into the refrigerated section causes a shiver, eyes scanning over price tags you've never gotten used to looking at. As you reach out for a pack of chicken with a decent tag, a stronger hand brushes in front of your to cross in the other direction. Looking up reveals a familiar blonde headed athlete who seems to beam at seeing you, as if he didn't see you a couple aisles ago.

"Hey, been a couple days. How ya been?" He asks, taking his hand away and gesturing for you to grab your thing first.

"Been alright, resting up before my May drags us back. You?" Conversation comes easy, he's noticed you're kinda quiet so he takes the lead in asking questions and talking about his own things. He's careful, even subconsciously, about asking certain questions as to not put you in a sour mood. You ask him the occasional question as he seems to follow you around, noting he doesn't have anything else to do except his own personal grocery trip, like about his games and team. He has no issue answering, giving the occasional jab at them and joking with you to make you giggle behind your hand as you both float around the store until you both have to check out. When he realizes that the window is closing on the most in depth conversation he's ever had with you, he spings an invitation as you both exit the store. "Umm... Hey, do you maybe wanna come over to mine later? To keep talking? I think you're actually pretty interesting." He says quickly, trying to make sure you don't think what he feels you are.

You smile, laughing softly. "Your reputation is starting to sound a bit more true. You always invite girls over to 'talk' after you grocery shop with them?" He smiles and shakes his head, free hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Nah, just you." He flirts, and liking the feel of the missing male attention, you agree. He comes and tells you where his place is, and upon looking at it typed out, you realize that it's actually not far from where you and him live. Like, just a bit farther, just almost out of sight due to the curve, down the long street that your house sits at. You can walk to his house. When you tell him as much, he laughs. "Small world, huh? I'll leave the door open then." He shoots you a wink before heading on his way to his car ad you do yours.

When you get home, you don't speak to your husband. This is now normal. You simply put away the groceries you bought save for what you cook after. Once you've rushed through making a meal you have no real intentions of eating, you simply shoot him an "I'm heading out." Before slipping out of the door and taking a slow, leisurely stroll down to Atsumu's place. It takes about 20 minutes at that pace, and once in front of the door, you get butterflies. That old familiar flutter in the base of your tummy makes you hesitate to knock but you're a big girl, so you reach your hand up to give a few solid pounds to the heavy door. His place is nice, you've seen every house in the neighborhood at least once but you never really knew who lived in them. You were already housewife status before you moved here so you rarely came outside or interacted with any neighbors except next door and directly across the street.

The door opens with the slightly sticky sound of the seal meant to keep the outside out, and in the way of your view into the luxury home stands a broad chest. Your eyes get stuck for a half second before they trail up to his face, bright smile already splayed across his face. "Well howdy neighbor." You've heard him speak so the accent wasn't low on you but there sure are some words that really bring it out. You bow your head with your greeting and he turns himself to the side to let you in. "What took so long? I was waitin for ya." He asks jokingly, and you smile as you tell him about having to cook before you left because if you didn't do it, who would? He hears how lighthearted you make it sound, and he swallows the frown before it gets to appear on his face. You're keeping your head high to cope and it makes him wanna gag as his eyes trail up you, seeing no real flaw as to why some man wouldn't wanna be with you. He thinks you're real pretty, gorgeous even. You're also smart, funny and pretty quick witted when your head's not in the clouds. He knows it's a little odd to feel so strongly for the situation of a woman you just met, but his mama taught him so much better than that so when confronted with shit like this, it's hard to fathom. Even more so when the subject of it is right in front of him, oh so beautiful with your-

"Atsumu? Earth to pro athlete, need you back down here, big guy. Atsumu?" Shit. He had zoned out looking at you as you spoke so when he shakes his head and politely asks you to repeat the last thing you said, he feels awful. You seen a little too used to it as you shrug it off, which he feels makes it worse, and ask again. "I said: Did you have a plan when you invited me over or were you just gonna go with the flow and see what happens?" You stand with your hands behind your back so to not touch anything, and he struggles with his mind wandering as he motions for you to sit down and quickly jogs into his kitchen.

"I mean, we had a pretty nice time talking at the grocery store so i figured we could just pick up where we left off." He calls before coming to set a glass of lemonade down in front of you on the coffee table. "And if you stay long enough, i wouldn't mind you joining me for dinner?" It comes out like a question, you've been here for all of 2 minutes max and he's already inviting you to stay longer. He's so eager in a way you cant help but giggle and agree. You watch as he sits on the other side of the couch before starting to engage you in some bit of conversation from before. What you pick up on is that he constantly tries to get you to talk more and he pays actual attention to what you say. Anytime you quiet down out of habit, he asks you another question. The conversation hops from life experiences, to vacations, to upbringings. Anything to get you to talk to him more, anything to learn as much as possible about you, anything to make you smile and giggle like he's getting so enamored with.

He can't keep convincing himself that he's just being nice.

Not as he moves just a bit closer every time he sits back down from refilling your drinks. Not as he keeps trailing his eyes up and down your form when you laugh hard enough to close your eyes. Not when he has to fend off the mild shutter that slides up his back at certain words you say. Not as he continues to mentally say you're basically in the right if you were to do something outside of your marriage, and how he'd offer himself up in a heartbeat despite the guilt he'd been raised to have. Maybe if he finds out just a bit more about your garbage life partner, he can get rid of all the guilt he has. So he asks as you sip at the wine he offered up along with dinner, citing he's not as good as his brother in the kitchen but he does know a bit.

"Hey, i understand if it's still kinda touchy and you really don't have to answer if you don't wanna but, im just having a hard time wrapping my head 'round it." He starts, and your stomach turns as you know what he's gonna ask. But you sigh and down the rest of the glass, feeling It's better to get it out there now rather than feel like you're manipulating the situation later. The feeling of being wanted for a bit was nice while it lasted though. You set the glass down next to your empty plate and turn to face him, questioning when he went from the other side of the couch to only a couple inches away, motioning for him to continue. He ponders on how to say it without seeming insensitive before he sighs and just blurts it out. "Why the hell is your husband cheating on you? I genuinely can't understand." He stops himself before he goes on a tangent about how pretty you are or how nice you are or how he'd treat you plenty better.

You feel your eyes burn. You thought you'd be over it by now but maybe you had just pushed the thoughts away, far enough that it was basically outta sight, outta mind. You blink quickly to get rid of the tears and once Astumu catches the glossy look, he shakes his head. He opens his mouth to tell you to forget about him asking but you out your hand up to stop him. He fears you might just up and walk out, looking like a kicked puppy along with you as you take a deep breath to compose yourself. You open your eyes and put your hand down, speaking before he can. "He wanted an open relationship, so he's not actually cheating on me." Saying it feels gross, and if you took your eyes off the floor you'd see Atsumu with a face that agrees. Not because of the open relationship thing, because of how you phrased it.

"So you didn't want the open relationship?" He asks for clarification and though you and Atsumu don't know each other as well as you know your best friends, he's a comfortable presence that feels empathetic to you in a way, despite feeling like he's pitying you too but that's just your mind talking there. You shake your head, dropping it into your hands to rub away the tension that's building your temples.

"He sprung it on me out of no where, said i wasn't making him happy anymore. Saying i had 'let myself go' and whatnot. I was working on it, really. Working out at home, keeping up self care routines, trying to initiate even though that isn't normal for me. He just... Didn't want me anymore." You're quiet as you talk, a small sniffle in the middle of your statement tugs hard at his heart. Well now he can't possibly feel bad. He asks you about the dudes at the sauna the first time he saw you and lets you explain that they work with with your husband under a different company. "They've probably seen him with his pretty little coworker who he's been sleeping with. By the sound of it, they aren't the most discreet about it so it's just embarrassing for me. They're the types to get pissy when turned down. He rolls his eyes hard enough to hurt, feeling like his brain is throbbing in his skull over how dumb it sounds. Your husband, he colleagues, whatever whore he's screwing that most likely knew who you were and that the idiot was married. It gives the most sour ass milk taste to him.

"And what about you? Since he forced it, wouldn't it be good to get out and see someone?" He asks softly, particularly because he's yet to see you truly conversing with another man in the time he's been talking to you. He's also never heard you talk about anyone else, not that it would truly be any of his business but it just intrigues him. You simply shake your head again though.

"He's... He's the only man over ever been with. We met when i was young, got engaged and married pretty quick but i wasn't the prettiest thing in the group so he had no real competition. When that happened i kinda just stayed inside and didn't bother even after starting the working out thing with May again. I mean, if no one wanted me then, why would they now and I've just gotten older?" Your insecurities have shown before but Astumu's about to start asking some real serious questions about how your husband treats you if you think so low of yourself.

"So why not leave? I mean it's obvious he doesn't care 'bout ya, and you don't seem like the type to stick around for shit like this." He admits its a bit assumptive but he can read people pretty well, and he'd bet on this assumption for sure.

"He married me when i was young and kinda took over most things. Pre and post me leaving my job and agreeing to be his fulltime housewife. I kinda can't... At least not right now." You admit. Atsumu has genuinely never wanted the throttle a man so badly. He's basically holding you hostage so he cant look bad but is forcing decisions on you whether you like them or not so he can do as he wants. Yea, he definitely doesn't feel bad anymore.

"I want you." It's a simple statement but it has you whipping your head to look at him and the serious face he has that somehow also looks like he's bored almost.

"What?"

"You asked who'd want you since time has passed and stuff, right? Me. I do." Your eyes widen as he continues. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous to be honest. Inside and out. You're funny and sweet when you're comfortable, you've got a good heart and 's all bundled up in this lovely, lovely body o' yers." He starts to smile mid way through his declaration as he notices your dace get more and more flustered. His accent seems to get just a bit thicker as he talks faster towards the end, enthusiasm radiating from him as he closes that tiny 2 inch gap between you two on the couch so your thighs touch. You're shocked honestly. It felt like he liked you but your self doubt said it was just pity, but you also felt there was nothing wrong with being a bit delusional and taking what you could get from a nice man giving you attention. You stutter, trying to get something out about how you feel but he hold up his hands and leans back a bit, never scooting away from you though. "If ya don't feel that way about me, i understand even if it hurts a little. But I would love to show you how a proper man should be treating someone as beautiful as you." He's laying it on thick but you feel he's being honest about your ability to back out if you want.

You still can't manage to figure out the words you want to say to him. You don't really think you'd know where to start, being the way he didn't seem judgmental towards you or the fact he apparently had actual, genuine interest in you. So you hug him instead. He's surprised for a moment but quickly hugs you back, finding that you're so much softer, warmer than he expected this close. He nose catches whiffs of your soap and shampoo, you even smell gorgeous. And your husband didn't want this? Fucking idiot. You pull back after a while, just enough to look him in the eyes. "Thank you, but... You don't..." You start how you want, but you cant seem to find the correct way to finish. Atsumu understands from the way you avert your eyes, flustered and shy in a way he finds all too cute on you. He puts his hand under your chin to gently redirect your gaze back to his, confident smirk still splayed across his face. It's a reassuring look really, one that says he really does want to do what he said.

"If you don't want to, that's fine. I understand, but don't think that i don't want to. Because i really fucking do." His voice is low due to his proximity, leaning his forehead against yours as he searches for any sign of you pulling away or rejecting his advances. It's like a little game behind your eyes plays out before you opt to say fuck it and close the small gap between your mouths. He reciprocates immediately, moving his hand from your chin to the back of your head as your hand begin to wind themselves in his soft blonde locks. The kiss goes on for what makes your lungs feel like eternity, but your brain feel like mere seconds. When the burn in your chest is too much, you pull back and take a deep breath, letting the oxygen take your brain through thoughts of this really being a good idea. Your eyes scan Atsumu, from the lidded gaze to the slightly swollen lips to the heaving chest and from what your eyes take in, your brain says it's a great idea. I mean, if he's willing to give you what you're missing, why deny yourself?

He stands up and holds out his hand to you, letting you take it as you ask about where he's leading you to. "Well i did say i'd be proper bout it, right? Can't take you on the couch first time around, that comes later." You note how confidently he said later, as if he's assured a next time. And while normally you'd say that was a bit presumptuous of a man, you couldn't help but think of the kiss you shared and allow him to have his confidence. He smiles when you don't deny him too. He leads you to a room that's cleaner than what you'd expect from an athlete if you're honest. The room smells of lingering cologne and linen air freshner as he closes his door. He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his face into the crook of your neck to kiss and nip at the skin as you tilt tour head to give him more space. You giggle as he kisses at certain spots, whimpering when he finds that particular spot that has you slightly buckling in his grasp.

His hands play with the hem of your shirt and pants, gently tugging as he sucks and bites at the spot that has you depending on him more to help you stand. "You can still back out now, (y/n). I really don't-" you wind up snaking your hand back into his hair, turning your head to bring his mouth to yours.

"I want to, Atsumu. Please, lemme have this." The way you whine has his eyes rolling in a good way this time, gently pushing you to his bed before he opts for turning you toward him and tossing you on it. His grip firm as he halfheartedly flung you onto the soft sheets as if you weighed nothing and without a single complaint either. He's quick to crawl over you and place his lips back on yours, tongue slipping in before you can fight him on it. You don't fight with him too much for dominance, more so to just be playful. He takes it, sliding his hands higher under your shirt than before to touch your skin as you fingers dig into his shoulder. He takes time to pull away every so often to ask if he can remove some piece of clothing from you, seeming as if he truly couldn't get enough of you. First your shirt, then pants, then his own. He barely detached his body from yours as he stripped you or himself, wanting nothing more than the feel of your soft, pretty skin on his. When he inevitably did have to pull himself up onto his knees to take off your bra, he couldn't help but take in the sight in front of him.

You're underneath him, as he's wanted for a bit now, neck only slightly marked up from before, lips swollen and a little of the mixed saliva from him keeping your mouths together making Its way down your cheek from the corner of your mouth. Your chest is heaving from him giving you minimal time to breathe between kisses, and to top it off you're basically half naked, the pretty body he's seen clad in various workout clothes finally exposed properly for his eyes to drink in. His staring to you on the other hand, has you feeling self conscious. You take a breath and start to move to shield your body from him, crossing your legs and bringing one of your arms over your chest to hide. He quickly stops you, whining at you, gently smacking your hands and thighs to get you to move them. He settles himself properly between your thighs and moves to pin your hands above your head with one hand. "Don't hide, beautiful. 'M only staring cause i think you're pretty." He smiles at the flustered look that comes back across your face and trails his free hand over the too of your bra. "I can take the rest of it off, right?" He asks, eyes still glues to your chest.

You hum and nod, so he wastes no time before reaching under you to unhook the only thing keeping your chest from his mouth. He almost drools at the sight of them when he moves his other hand from your wrists to toss the garment to the floor. There's quiet fuck that slips from him as his eyes catch on your tits the same way yours did earlier, and under such admiration you can't really tell when, if ever, your husband looked at any part of you with such genuine hunger. If feels nice to be looked at like this, so you try not to let your hands fall from where they rest above your head. His hands smooth down your sides, gripping every so often at the soft flush under his fingers til he gets to the hem of your panties, pulling and letting them snap against your hip as you yelp. He's tempted to rip them in all honesty but decides against it, simply sliding them down and off you to the floor as his eyes rake up and down you to figure out where to start.

His hands reach for your chest, kneading your tits and watching how responsive you are to him tweaking and thumbing over your nipples. He takes in every tiny whimper and breathess noise you make before taking your left nipple into his mouth and moaning at the taste of your skin. Your hands come down then, rethreading through his hair and unconsciously pushing him just a bit more into your chest. They're more sensitive than he thought, and you seem to love the way he flicks the hardened bud with his tongue before he takes a teasing bite and pulls it with his teeth just a little. He's not one to show favoritism in the bedroom, so he swaps to lavish the other with the same attention, biting just a bit harder to get you to make more noise for him. It all has him rutting his still clothed cock against your center, the wetness quickly seeping through the thin fabric and driving him to take his open mouthed kisses down your torso, leaving marks here and there to show his pathing until he's kissing the top of your mound. You tug his hair and he lets his drunken gaze float up to yours, mouth still kissing around between your thighs.

"You... Don't have to, if you don't wanna... Just so you don't feel obligated or something..." His brows furrow as his mouth sticks to one spot just above your clit as he takes in what you just said. His foggy brain has a moment of realization when he sees that you aren't just flustered, but embarrassed. He sits up a bit more as you gulp and raises his eyebrow at you.

"Did that fuckwit tell you he didn't like eating pussy?" He asks so bluntly it makes you curl up a bit as you avert your gaze, hands stroking his head still.

"He said it wasn't his favorite part but he did it because it was expected so I'm just- ah!! Fuck!" You're abruptly cut off as Atsumu opts to dive head first to your center, tossing your legs over his shoulders and running his tongue from your hole to your clit before sucking it into his mouth. Atsumu eats pussy for his own enjoyment, for fun. Your husband had you at home all the time and didn't constantly want his face between your lovely thighs? He didn't want the warm soft earmuffs and the, to Atsumu, gentle pressure of you squeezing his head with them? Because to Sumu, this feels like heaven. The muffled squeals as he slides his tongue from lapping at your clit to fucking your slippery hole and nudging his nose against your clit to keep the cute little button stimulated have him rutting into his mattress. You're overwhelming his senses and he's in love with it, it's a contender for being his favorite part of it in competition with how you taste. One taste and he's actively trying to devour you, as if he hadn't eaten dinner maybe an hour or so ago.

His hands grip onto your plush thighs and encourage you to clamp them even harder than you are now around his head as you whine and keen under him. Your fingers tug at his hair as you halfway guide his mouth where you want him, also grinding your cunt against his face and breathlessly moaning everytime he hums in pleasure against you. He opens his eyes when he feels one of your hands leave his head and lets them trail up you see your head tossed into his pillows and the hand you freed from his locks grasping at your chest, kneading your breasts as he did earlier and he can't help the way he basically growls into you. "Atsumu~ mmphf! Fuck, Sumu!" Oh god if he wasn't determined to get you to cum from the dumb shit you told him earlier, he was now.

He keeps his grip on your thighs, sluring and lapping feverishly at your pretty pussy, making sounds you'd truly be embarrassed of if you could find yourself thinking straight. He lets you use his face, lets you tug and pull his hair in a way that would be damn near painful, if he could think straight either to, to let you throw yourself off that cliff. He's only focusing on the moans clawing their way from your throat, getting higher and higher in pitch until you feel like you're about to crush his skull between your thighs. You call his name over and over, louder and louder until you go rigid and squeal as he helps himself to your sweet release, guiding you through wave after wave of pleasure.

Once you begin to paw and push at his head, he pulls himself up to look down at you with a wolfish smile and drunken gaze. His chin and lips shine in the daylight that floods through his bedroom window, the subtle warmth that still enraptures you keeps you from being as embarrassed about the sight. He moves his hand to swipe your juices from his chin before placing those same fingers into his mouth and humming at the taste. "You're husband has absolutely no taste, does he?" You giggle and move to sit up, a hand reaching to trail down his abdomen to the hem of his boxers but are stopped short by him pushing you back down and crawling to blanket you with his body. He kisses you deeply, sharing the taste still on his tongue with you and swallowing the little whimpers you give.

"Are you not gonna let me reciprocate that?" You ask when he finally parts, moving to trail his mouth down your neck and shoulder as he shakes his head.

"Uh uh, at least not this time. Next time." He assures, and you laugh softly in his ear at his confident insistence on this not being a 1 time thing. It makes you giddy, a man desiring you in a way that seemed so fairytale lately even tho you were supposed to be happily married. He nips at your shoulder and hums when you don't respond. "You'll let there be a next time, right darlin'?" He mumbles against your shoulder. You nod, dreamily humming as you turn to kiss his temple. At your agreement, he grinds himself against you, letting your slick completely soak through his underwear as you both moan into each other's skin. You grab hold of his shoulders as he keeps going, his grunts heavy on your neck as he tries to keep from going overboard. He does sit up, chuckling breathlessly as you whine at the loss of his heat.

He quickly slides off his boxers and when your eyes meet again, or rather when he looks at your face, the smile that crosses his face is smug. Your eyes were glued to between his legs, your lower lip caught between your teeth. He was bigger than your husband, longer and thicker though you'd say they were similar heights. Impressive sure was one way to describe it, the tip pink and glossed over with his arousal that began to run down his length. He trails his fingers from his abs to wrap around his dick, giving it slow stokes which catches your attention. You let your eyes follow up from his dick, soaking in the way the muscles under the skin of his tummy ripple and quiver, taking in how his chest rises and falls with his labored breaths. From his chest, you look to his face, catching how his eyes are intently glued to you as he seems to fight the urge to fist himself faster. Your grip on your lip becomes bruising, the wet plaps of his hand around himself causing you to twitch and pant.

He smiles as he stops, bringing his wet hand to your mouth with a slightly raised brow, a tiny gasp escaping him as you eagerly take his hand in yours and run your tongue over his palm and between his fingers. It sets him off, as he's quickly over you again, freshly licked hand guiding his hardness to your weeping center and mouth on yours with the full intent to make it hard to breathe. He lets his cock slide through your folds, swallowing your moans every time his tip rubs your swollen clit. "You ready, sweetheart?" He slurs against your mouth. You nod, clasping your hands together at the back of his neck, desperate mutters of "Please, Sumu..." spurring him on as he slides his way into you. He was happy at how easy it was; despite how tight you were, your pussy was wet enough give give him little resistance. He only pulled away from the heated kiss to watch your eyes roll into the back of head and listen at the drawn out noise you gave him.

When he feels you hike your leg over his hip and push him into you, he almost giggles at your eagerness. He moves his hands to the sides of your head, starting a steady rut into you before both of you whine at the feeling not being enough. "Please, Astumu.. Gimme more~" you ask so sweetly, how can he deny you? His hips begin to snap into yours, drawing out pretty high pitched moans and grunts from both of you. He moves his face to mark your throat and shoulder as he pumps into you, hands moving to grab your hips to prevent you from scooting up the bed as he starts to thrust faster and faster. He keeps his moth on your throat, grunting at the feel of your sounds on his lips and your nails digging into his shoulders as you wrap your other leg around his waist.

"Feel .. s'good baby. Y'er grippin me soooo fuckin tight- shit!" He curses into your neck, mindless babbles being all he receives in return. The smile on his face never seems to leave, even as he sits up to sit back on his haunches and starts using your hips to bring your velvety pussy onto him, your ass propped up just a bit by his thighs underneath. The angle has you keening, arching your back and grasping at his wrists as a way to ground yourself as he pistons into you again and again. The sticky wet squelch between you drags Atsumu's eyes down to where you both connect, rolling and threatening to close as the sight of his pelvis all glossy, pretty white ring encircling his base and shaft completely coated. The feel of your walls convulsing and clentching as your hips buck against his in a futile effort to keep up with his brutal pace is mind numbing, dragging almost whiny moans from his chest as his hands garb onto any bit of you they can and please.

When he does manage to tear his eyes away from your swollen cunt sucking him in, he lets his gaze lick up your body. From your tummy that he can see bulge with every pump in, to your tits that bounce so nicely, to your pretty face and the adorable fucked out expression that's plastered across it. He genuinely thinks you're so pretty, he can't wrap any part of his mushy brain around how someone could have you and not want to worship you all the damn time. You deserve so much. And he's damn sure gonna give it to you. "Y'er- so- fuck-in pretty!" Every syllable is punctuated with a harsh kiss to your cervix, just bordering on painful but still adding to the pleasure that has your eyes glued to the back of your skull. Your whines and moans are broken as they hit his ears, one large hand moving from your hip to your front, letting his thumb rub your clit and his other four fingers press above where his cock hits inside.

You shudder under his hands, twitching as you let out a weak warning of your impending orgasm. Though teary eyes, you see him nod. "C'mon darlin, cum nice an' hard f'me." He grunts, leaning up onto his knees just a bit more for leverage to throw you over.

And he does.

Your eyes clamp shut as you basically scream, his name tumbling out again and again as he fucks you through it. He's honestly a bit disappointed in the fact you didn't squirt, but there's always next time, right? He does fall over the edge after you do, your gorgeous climax having a domino effect on him as he grunts out your name like a mantra until he can't. The after shocks of yours guiding him through his own overwhelming haze of pleasure, and he finds himself drooling slightly by the time he comes back to earth. His body collapses next to yours after he pulls out and watches your cunt twitch and clench, letting his cum seep out and admiring it as it follows the curve of your ass onto his bed. He pulls you to him and you let him, snuggling into his chest.

He lays there for a bit, basking in the afterglow with you before getting up to get a wet towel to clean you up with as a bath runs. "Oh, you don't have to-" The stare he gives cuts you off as he wipes down your lower half, eyes narrowed at what you saying that now implies about how you were treated at home.

"I just fucked your pretty little brains out, sweetheart. I am not only obligated to clean you up and take care of you, but i want to. As any real man should." He emphasizes what shouldn't need to be said as he finishes wiping you down and goes back into his bathroom to finish up your bath. He carries you, despite protest, and sets you in as he says he's going to change his sheets. "Do... Do you maybe wanna stay over?" He's suddenly bashful, and it makes you wonder if the man who just made you cum harder than you have in years just a moment ago and this sweet, shy, country boy who can't seem to find your eyes is the same man. You nod, saying you'd like that. He finds your eyes then, dopey smile out in full as he hops off to clean his room.

He comes back just when you're clean and about to fall asleep, calling for you as he helps you out and dries you off, admiring your sleepy form as he slides a clean tshirt over your head. He guides you out this time, you smacking his hands when he tries to pick you up, his bed now dressed in a pretty deep grey color as he lets you lay down and get comfy. He's about to walk into the bathroom when your phone rings from the floor, you sucking your teeth at the ringtone. He rummages through your pants to find it again and frowns at it being the man neither of you wanna hear from. He does not the lack of guilt he feels about what happened tho. He hands it to your grabby hand and listens from the bathroom as you answer.

"Hello?... What does it matter what im doing?... I'm not at home, your dinner is in the oven. Is that not everything?... What you do in that house, in that bed is none of my business. I don't wanna hear about it either, not like i sleep there..... I have an attitude because you're bothering me... That's not even fair, what for?!... Sure, whatever. Move it i guess.... No, im not. Can i go now?" He hears you sigh and groan, but you seem to be off the phone, so he quickly hops in the shower before coming to cuddle with you in bed. The evening sun has set, the sky it's deep inky black through the window as he flicks on the tv to something neither of you pay attention to. He wraps you tight on his embrace and kisses your head, asking what your legal partner wanted. "He wants to use the guest room I'm staying in to house his little tramp because she's having 'family issues, don't be such a bitch. She's going through a hard time.'" You grown and half flail like you're having a tantrum, pressing your face into his chest. He grips even tighter, his blood boiling. That man has 0 respect and it shows so much.

"You can bring whatever things you don't want him to touch here." He offers, and you turn your sad, puppy like eyes to him. Even in the dark, under the mild light of his tv, he can see how glassy they are. It hurts his heart. "You can come by whenever you want, too. I'll never turn you away." You open your mouth, voice raspy with tears as you tell him of not wanting to intrude or be a burden but he stops you with a kiss. "Im not him. You will never be a burden to me. I mean it. Whatever or whenever, you always have a sizable place here." The tears fall but you smile at his sweetness, sharing kisses and sniffly thank you's with him. He pulls you on top of him, letting your head lay on his chest as he soothes his hands over your back, telling you to get some well deserved sleep. He thankfully doesn't miss your mutters of how much you like him already and how thankful you are before you're out cold. He places another kiss to your head, smiling as his own eyes close from his own exhaustion. Be it from fucking you like that or from being angry at your paper-only lover, he doesn't know or even care right now. He knows he'll have to explain himself to someone at some point, but that's a task for future Astumu.

Besides, he's just doing what his mama taught him was right, right?

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated! Hope you guys enjoyed! ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

#rexywrites #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu!!#atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #haikyu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu miya

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puppy-stevee · 26 days ago

Text

if i ain't got you

steddie | wc: 1,425 | cw: none | songfic | ao3

have some hurt/comfort, connor style <3

The kitchen is so thick with tension you could cut right through it like butter. Eddie’s washing the dishes and Steve’s putting away the leftovers from dinner. They haven’t spoken a word to each other the entire night, not since that afternoon when they were screaming at each other.

Other people would say that they don’t remember what or who started the argument in the first place, but Steve knows exactly what happened. All because he let his dumb mouth get ahead of his brain. And it’s not like he hasn’t tried to apologize—he tried the second the words left his mouth and then five more times after that but Eddie wasn’t having any of it.

Which is fine, he’s allowed to stew in his hurt feelings for as long as he likes, but Steve is worried that this might be the first time they go to bed with one of them still mad, and he doesn’t know if he can handle that.

He shuts the fridge and turns around to lean against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, letting out a quiet sigh. Eddie’s back is turned to him so he can only see the movement of his shoulders as he scrubs the dishes harder than he ought to.

He’s still pissed, then.

Steve lets out a quiet sigh. He’s the one that started this whole mess so he’s got to be the one to fix it. He needs to come up with something to get Eddie to at least look at him.

He stands there for a few more minutes as he thinks but then the light bulb in his brain flicks on and he leaves the kitchen.

Eddie’s probably washed this bowl three times already but he doesn’t care. He’s still worked up from his and Steve’s fight earlier, he could drop the bowl and it could shatter in the soapy water and he wouldn’t even blink an eye.

How dare he, Eddie thinks bitterly, rinsing the soap off and placing the bowl in the dish drainer a little harshly. How dare he think he has the right to even insinuate.

All he wanted was to spend the extra little bit he’d had left over from his paycheck on some new mini’s he’d seen down at the bookstore and a couple of books that had been on his list for ages. He made sure to put back enough to cover his half of their rent and bills. He was careful.

But Steve still had to go and open his stupid rich boy mouth.

Eddie feels the familiar prickle of white hot anger on the back of his neck and he takes a deep breath to calm himself. It’s not his fault that he grew up poor. Wayne did what he could to support the both of them on his single paycheck every month, but that money only went so far. There wasn’t enough to spare to open an account with the bank, so they just went without.

Unlike the Harrington’s, who apparently had accounts open across multiple cities and even a couple overseas.

Steve’s father had drilled the importance of wealth management into him from an early age and made him use his first allowance to open a savings account at the age of ten. His boyfriend had a goddamn retirement account by the time he was eighteen.

So when Steve goes and assumes that Eddie doesn’t know how to handle money just because he wants to splurge for once and buy something he enjoys, Eddie thinks that his anger is a little more than justified.

Eddie’s eyes sting with oncoming tears and he blinks them away with a shake of his head. He doesn’t need to cry right now.

As he reaches for another dirty plate, music suddenly fills the kitchen from the Bluetooth speakers on the counter, soft piano trilling and the melodic humming with an R&B beat.

He freezes when arms slowly circle his waist from behind and Steve rests his chin on his shoulder.

Some people live for the fortune

Some people live just for the fame

“Dance with me,” Steve murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie suppresses a shiver and the instinct to lean back into him. “I don’t-”

“Eddie.”

Another kiss, this time under his ear. Fingers gently trace along his arm.

Some people think

That the physical things

Define what’s within

Eddie’s walls crumble like sawdust when Steve laces his fingers between his own soapy ones. He lets Steve pull him away from the sink and they slowly sway in the middle of their kitchen. He can see straight into the living room, where they’ve already set their Christmas tree up in the corner by the window, fully decorated even though it’s still November. They’ve got a hodgepodge of decorations and knick knacks already set on various shelves and tables with Christmas lights strung in almost every doorway.

As they dance in a slow spin, their cheeks pressed together, Eddie thinks back to how much fun they had setting all of it up. How Steve held the mistletoe above his head every chance he got just to be able to kiss him. All of his remaining anger slowly melts away and he’s left with the overwhelming feeling of how much he loves this man.

Some people want diamond rings

Some just want everything

But everything means nothing

If I ain't got you, yeah

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, and he sounds like he means it. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, when I said you should be more responsible. You were right. It’s your money and you’re the only one who gets a say in how you spend it.”

Eddie sighs and tightens his arms around Steve’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, too. I got defensive, but I shouldn’t have yelled at you like I did. I should’ve listened to you when you tried apologizing the first time.”

Some people search for a fountain

Promises forever young

Some people need three dozen roses

And that's the only way to prove you love them

Eddie pulls back a little and looks at Steve for the first time in what feels like ages and is flooded with emotions that make his chest tighten when he sees the soft smile on his boyfriend’s face and the love in his eyes.

Eddie cups his cheek and leans in to press a soft kiss to his equally soft lips before resting his head on Steve’s shoulder with a soft sigh.

Some people want it all

But I don't want nothing at all

If it ain't you, baby

If I ain't got you, baby

“Are we really slow dancing to Alicia Keys?” he asks after a moment. Steve shakes with silent laughter and Eddie gently smacks him in the shoulder. “It’s a serious question, Stevie. I need to know if it’s a contender for our wedding playlist.”

It’s Steve’s turn to freeze now and Eddie can’t hold back his giddy smile when he pushes him back by the shoulders and gives him a wide-eyed look.

“Wedding playlist?”

“Well, I was planning to wait until Christmas to pop the question, but. Yeah. I even got a ring.”

Steve gapes at him like a fish before yanking him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt. It’s more teeth than lips because they can’t stop laughing long enough, but they eventually get a hold of themselves when Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s neck again and presses close, thier lips slotting together seamlessly.

“So I take it that’s a yes?” Eddie asks between kisses.

Steve nips at his bottom lip. “Only if you learn to stop kicking your socks off in your sleep and leaving them under the covers at the end of the bed.”

“They twist around my toes, Stevie,” Eddie pouts, trailing kisses along Steve’s jaw. “Makes ‘em feel like pigs in a blanket.”

Steve tilts his head back to give him more room, the music completely forgotten. “Then don’t wear them to bed at all.”

“But then my feet will get cold. Do you want me to put my icicles on your legs, Steven? Would that make you feel better?”

Steve throws his head back for a completely different reason and groans. “You’re going to be even more difficult once we’re married, aren’t you?”

Eddie grins against Steve’s throat. “Absolutely, oh husband of mine.”

Some people want diamond rings

Some just want everything

But everything means nothing

If I ain't got you, you, you

buy me a ☕?

#c.txt #c.doc #steddie #steddie ficlet

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whoblewboobear · 7 months ago

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I feel like dropout is the wrong comparison to make with watcher tbh? Dropout started out of necessity because college humor went out of business. Dropout offers a lot more variety and has a more varied roster of talent to fill out a full weekly schedule.

When watcher launched their new channel, it seems like that was always the goal to have bigger roster of shows that eventually featured different personalities. But in the past 4 years they’ve been independent, not all of the shows have worked and the shows that didn’t feature Shane and Ryan and to a lesser extent, Steven, really failed and never got brought back. A majority of people aren’t excited for Worth It to come back either and that being one of the selling points is kinda.. I’m fully biased, I haven’t ever been much of a Steven fan and the episode of here’s what you do where he said he’s still close friends with people that are homophobic/racist left a bad taste in my mouth. I don’t watch his shows. Which isn’t a huge deal, but with how Watcher’s release schedule is, they’re airing one show at a time, weekly updates til the season ends. So if you don’t like the show currently airing you’re kinda out of luck. If that changes to them pumping out 2-3 shows or more at a time, then it could justify the price. But I don’t see how that can happen either when the shows people want to see are mainly Shane/Ryan/Steven. It would be unsustainable for them to be shooting that much to keep up with a schedule like that. They mentioned that from now until May 31st will be a trial period but a lot of people really aren’t willing or cannot afford to be a company guinea pig right now.

This is very ambitious and a big ask for a lot of fans right now, there’s no way around that. It can work, it reminds me lot of how Noel Miller and Cody Ko moved away from Patreon to launch their own streamer. They still post on YouTube, but the draw of TMG Studios is that you get an extra hour of bonus content along with other shows. You have the option to choose which shows you’d like to support and opt out of at different price points. Hell, even Rhett and Link still post on YouTube while having a streamer of their own with the Mythical Society and the major draw of that is seeing what the crew is up to. In both of these cases, both TMG & Mythical took their time before making a leap like this. I believe TMG took 7 years and Rhett and link have been in the game for even longer.

I’m not familiar with the watcher crew, they don’t have a lot of other front facing people on the team outside of Ryan/Shane/Steven making shows at the moment. I don’t want them to fail and I’m sure they will be fine, but it’ll be a rough transition to start and I hope they survive it. Completely leaving YouTube does not feel like the move though. I feel like you need a lot of balls in the air and plates spinning to keep drawing people to a new subscription service. Whether that’s YouTube, TikTok, instagram, etc, if no one knows what you’re up to outside of 1 episode of a new show/season hitting the YouTube channel you abandoned every couple weeks/months then it’s a tough sell.

#watcher #tmg #Cody Ko #Noel miller #mythical #rhett mclaughlin #link neal #rhett and link #Cody and Noel #steven lim #shane madej #ryan bergara #watcher entertainment #puppet history #dropout #dimension 20 #fantasy high junior year #fhjy #Sam reich

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

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AITA for using my moms money to buy games?

The title sounds bad, but I'm not sure how else to word it. This is also going to be a weird one as, in advance, I know the other party isn't an asshole, however I think it's a similar situation im tone and I really need some feedback on this.

I'm 22 and live with my mom and cat. I've lived with her my whole life, and continue to due to disability. My mom has 2 jobs that she mainly works on weekends, and I'm unemployed. Ever since covid it's been incredibly difficult for me to find work because it is still very much a thing despite what people want to believe, and I can't be in contact with random people physically due to immune issues and the chance of getting sick. Online jobs are apparently very hard to find (my mom has tried) and many ask for a payment beforehand. I do however get social security income that pays most of our bills/utilities, and we're also on foodstamps for groceries.

My family has never been well off. I wouldn't call us dirt poor, we've never had to go hungry, and I always had toys to play with/clothes as a kid. But my mom has had to manage funds well and we've never had a lot of money for leisure or frivolous purchases. My mom will buy herself things like some new clothes, a phone charger, roku set, etc smaller things like that when she gets her paycheck but extra expenses such as furniture have to be planned out probably weeks/months ahead of time. We also moved recently and ever since then our budget has been more difficult, the down payment really screwed with my moms expenses.

Because of our situation, I never really had games growing up. I remember we had maybe 3 big family consoles during me and my sisters whole childhood (with like 3-6 games on them each, most of which were guitar hero which my mom and sister loved to play), and I would get a new handheld for myself every few years. I never got to play the new exciting games people were always talking about, and my gaming experience has really been limited to like. Animal crossing, the sims, and cooking mama.

I played a bunch of roms as a kid so that helped, but I was always kinda sad and felt left out that I never got to experience gaming the way other people did. I really wanted to try the "classics" people talked about but didn't have any way to. People (especially as I got into my 20s and started following streamers + nintendo direct for example) would always talk about the New Thing coming out and playing it the day it dropped, all the excitement and community people had around that, but if I really wanted that kind of game, I'd have to wait a few years before getting it and trying it out, and by then no one was playing it anymore anyways.

As time went on things got a little better. Especially because of my moms new jobs, both of which she genuinely loves doing, though it's still work, we have been a bit better off. It's only been recently we started struggling more again.

Recently I've been kind of asking for things from my mom. Mostly it's steam games. I found I've gotten much more into gaming as a hobby as I've gotten older, and I have a long wishlist of games that I really want to get into, but of course have no money to myself. I should also clarify that NONE of these are those big triple A $60 titles, as I still can't ever justify paying something so expensive for one game. So sometimes lately I've been asking my mom "hey, can I get this/these games?" And use her money/card to purchase them. I don't do it constantly, or even super often, but I feel like it's becoming more often and it makes me feel really guilty.

I have done this before, around high school I started asking my mom for certain things I wanted around the house, and usually she had no problem buying them for me. This also wasn't large stuff, nothing ever over $30 and usually only up to $20. But when I'd find something I *really* wanted, especially if it was a time limited thing like merch drops from a favorite content creator, often yarn for my knitting or art supplies I wanted to try, I would ask her.

I've pretty much always felt guilty about this. I would ask for something despite my better judgement, and for the most part my mom would say yes, and that it was okay, whereas I was the one apologizing and asking if it was "really alright". She has told me she has no issues buying things for me as long as I ask her. She says the social security I get is "technichally my money", and that she wants me to be able to use it. (Obviously we don't use the actual ssi to buy random shit, but her giving me spending money is the next best thing).

Every time I've asked my mom for something like this, I've told myself that it would be the last time, that I would get my own job and own money and not mooch on my mom anymore, but both with the stress of chronic illness and depression I never seem to get around to it. I try to do dishes and keep my room clean, take care of the cat etc as ways I can help without working, but for some reason the money really weighs on me. I know that it's really my fault, I haven't even been looking for jobs and I could always take art commissions again, but somehow a mental block always stops me.

I feel like I have a bit of an impulsivity problem when it comes to spending. The money I got from my one summer job and commissions would never last long, and honestly I couldn't even tell you what I spent it on for the weeks I had it. I have issues taking money from people, but when I realized that I may not have had the stuff I wanted as a kid simply because I never asked for/communicated that I wanted it, it made me more bold to actually ask my mom for things.

I never pester my mother about this. I'll ask once and if she says no I'll be dissapointed but won't continue. Sometimes she says that we don't have the money for it then, or that I'll have to wait until xyz thing is paid for, which is always fine. I also have *never* bought anything with her money without asking first. I get pretty much all the steam games I buy on sale (usually that's what prompts me to ask about them, actually) as personally I can't justify getting games for their asking price for the experience I'm going to get.

I feel bad as I feel like I'm wasting our money, mooching off my mom and not putting in the work to have spending money myself. I also worry that sometimes when she says it's fine, it's untrue and she's really just trying to make me feel better. I also sometimes don't play the games as soon as I get them, I have a sizeable backlog of games I have gotten but haven't "got around" to playing as I was excited to get them at a low price at the time, but then haven't felt like I'm in the right mood. This also makes me feel worse because I feel like I'm not being appreciative enough of her buying for me.

So am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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yoonyia · 3 months ago

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ok guys, is anyone's favorite enderverse book children of the mind

because I'm reading it and it's just

bad

like the writing quality is slightly worse

like the wording and structure itself

but also I feel like im talking to an AI

it just remembers stuff wrong and then like rehashed everything ever so slightly but not in a subtle recon way its just flat out stating information that's contradictory

like in the first 2 chapters I nearly died of a stroke because miro said "long years spent with a crippled body" or something along those lines

and I'm sorry if I'm getting the timeline a bit wrong here

miro got hurt at the wall

then got treatment for a few days or months (let's say 3 months to be generous but it really just sounded like 4 to 6 days)

then he stopped getting better

and let's say he spent another 3 months being crippled with his family (which he didn't, he said he didn't but let's just say he lost track of time) then he left on a 3 week space trip then he came back and the time between when he came back and when he got his body back is probably about 6 months (or less cause the pacing of orson Scott's writing, if there isn't a wide jump in time over weeks usually goes rather slowly or like day by every other day)

so even being incredibly generous it couldent possibly have been years, plural

giving him what I think is an extra 6 months still only makes it 1 year

and I know that even a year can be long and it can effect you completely yes but the writing is making it sound like when miro got his body back he also got back his youth??? (which I guess is true cause he said he had the body of a 90 year old and there was stuff about Jake having the build of a 20 year old so when orsonscottcard is referring to youth it isn't just age) but it's framed as if he reversed several years of his life???

not so much in xenocide, in xenoxide it sounded like he's having the worst few months of his life and is being an angsty adolescent about it (which he is and boy is he justified for it)

but in children of the mind it sounds like he got jaded and was fundamentally changed to be miserable?

he was always not very happy I dont know where this sudden simplification of his character came from

all the characters feel like 2 steps removed from what they actually are (except for ender but I'll get into that)

valentine being so uncomfortable with this child version of her also feels off

like I get it, it's supposed to be weird but her first reaction and her continued reaction has such a disconnect that dosent feel like a development and more like a sloppy paste over that's being stapled on top of the old and holding on with hopes dreams and memory loss

because her reaction initially was "ender you poor soul, you kept with you the one thing no one in this world could ever be, perfect morality that you compared you me and everyone against it" and ofcourse she was weirded out but it felt more weird because she was perfect rather her being a val

like she felt sad about it sure but less betrayed and disturbed and more sorry? sorrow? disappointed? understanding?

and like that can develop into being disturbed sure but we don't see that?

and it feels out of character for Val to be so disturbed while saying she's not

there's so much telling

but like yes it's showing us she's shuddering yea but it's like shoving "she's scared" down your throat with people EXPLAINING why she would feel that way

I remember when I first speedran through the series that I felt the children of the mind was the weakest (mostly because I couldent remember shit from it) and while reading children of the mind thought the writing degraded starting from xenocide

but I think for xenocide the writing didn't actually get worse at all it was just a complicated book with a lot of moving elements that just makes it harder to write and read

and reading back on it it was done pretty well even while being a lot of things all at once, it felt like I was actually in the crisis situation with everything slowly pulling together

but children of the mind just feels wrong

like it was slapped together

it feels like it was orson scott card loosing interest in the story and doing all his favorite story beats and relationships he wanted to happen and rushing them in

but then he kept talking and found out he had more to say so it's just awkward

there's so much romance in this book that's such a sudden shift to the duo and partnership aspect when it so far have been

children in a school, soldiers

a family

a community of ramen

duo love interests???? (with a love triangle in there for miro??)

like the entire series so far have been focused more on the collective and how 1 person effects them

and as the books go on that one person gets less important then eventually he's not needed anymore which make the story less decentralized, WHICH SHOULD MAKE IT MORE EXPANSIVE BUT IT DOSENT it feels like we got to a point where the issues are so big and complicated that no one person can solve it and we have to give everyone the attention and then we're sucked back into a centralized perspective between like 3 groups

it feels like a simplification

there's nothing inherently wrong with it it just dosent follow the message or the flow or the plot of the other books

it kinda grabs you by the collars and shoves it into the plot of dirt and hope you don't realize it was actually sand before

before the issue felt real

even if one thing was solved there were a hundred other things that needed to be finished

and when smaller things or huge things get solved the tension eases a bit (which it should) but I feel like the urgency disappears

like there is still a time limit (rather artificial one but it does add tension to the story) where they can't take all the humans off of lustania before the fleet comes

but there's no impending doom there was before

yes there Is a shorter list of things that needs fixing

but there's also an ever closer deadline and the big problems that most people or worried about aren't solved yet

but the story dosent have the urgency to make it feel real

I love peter and Wang mu in an isolated bubble

but in the story they kinda go a bit off the rails and kinda deus ex machina things

and Wang mu dosent care about the people in lustania enough to share the impending doom and peter 2 is stressed out and miserable but he's that always so it dosent show a heightened sense of anxiety or tension

he was also born yesterday I feel like the book thinks it has to explore what he us before putting him in a proper contextual emotion or motive

which it does but it's but it could have been done better

it feels like a first draft

I'm working on the rewrite now because I genuinely want to (not make the story better persay) but atleast more consistent within themselves because it's getting disjointed

I dont know tell me your thoughts

#enders game #ender’s game

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 7 months ago

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Hey I hope your day is going good! Would you ever write for Peter quill in the future? Cause it’s so funny to think he’s the type of guy to fall head over heels, kidnap you, and then proceed to say it’s water under the bridge after you suddenly you wake up on a space ship thousands of miles away from your solar system with a shirtless Peter lazily spooning you, kissing your neck in his sleep. And in his mind it’s completely justified cause now your 1, safe, 2, with him, 3 you guys go on cool dates all the time (he has a lock on your ankle, but he says it’s fine because you look cute as hell in it) — and if your feeling homesick he can totally drive extra slow outside of your solar system every once in a while or something. He’s a thoughtful guy like that. But at end of the day, He fought for you fair and square after all, and that’s what you do when you love someone! The guardians put up with it because you’ve been the only thing he’s talked about for the past few months and he also hasn’t slept in a week. And to rub salt in the wound he doesn’t even lock your guys pod door because you barely know how to operate the vending machine they have in there, let alone take control of an entire ship and actually.. get anywhere. Some days you consider going into the airlock without a helmet as you deal with a constantly dtf Peter and the endless void of space looming outside your window.

I feel like my marvel phase is kinda over 😅 but I really this idea cause I also liked him as a yandere.

And the worst is that he's not completely a bad guy, y'know? He's attentive (sometimes, a little too much) about your likes and dislikes, takes care of you (in his own delusional way) and in his mind the two of you were always meant to be, only you didn't know it.

He doesn't beat or hurt you, the worst thing he'll do is scold you a bit too exasperatly, sulk and avoid speaking to you for a few hours and also the lock on your leg.

But he also gets a bit too annoying cause he's always breathing down your neck. Always keeping an eye on you, peeking into the room if you stay there for too long. Knocks on the bathroom door a few times to make sure you're alright and well.

If you try to move from one division to another, he immediatly asks where you're going. And it bothers you cause where the hell can you go? Not like you can leave the ship, right?!

Is overly touchy and cuddly - which may irk you at times.

But the possibility of you controlling the ship or even going outside in a suicidal attempt is off limits cause Peter makes sure to have some extra safety mecanisms to limit your permissions around the ship.

#ask #yandere marvel #yandere peter quill

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saltchipfishshop · 2 years ago

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Vegan Passover Pecan-Banoffee Pie: my magnum opus

I set out with a dream. An impossible dream. To create a vegan dessert for my synagogue seder that was also kitniyot-free. Did I have to do this? Not really, my shul allows anything vegan, vegetarian or pescatarian that doesn’t have chametz, and we have a section for kitniyot. Am I vegan? No. Do I even keep kosher for Passover myself? Also no. But, you see, I have an almost pathological need to feed as many people as possible, and I am intractably stubborn, so once I realised how difficult this was going to be it only made me dig my heels in further.

It turns out to be borderline impossible to find vegan substitutes for pretty much anything that don’t contain soy, oats, cornflour, chickpeas, or some sort of forbidden legume. Subsequently this recipe is heavily reliant on coconut milk; luckily for me I live in an area with a large Muslim population and it’s currently Ramadan, so tins of coconut are front and centre of every supermarket display.

It’s taken almost a full month of trial, error and meltdowns in the butter aisle of Sainsbury’s, but I finally did it. I had to cobble bits of the recipe together from half a dozen different sources, so I feel relatively justified in calling this my own invention. The pecan crust is borrowed from a Tori Avey cheesecake recipe, I just swapped pistachios for pecans. I really think the crust is what makes it, to be honest. You could probably skip the ganache layer if you can’t be bothered, I just feel like it helps cut through the sweetness.

Recipe under the cut. Please please tag me if anyone decides to make this! I would be so delighted to see it out there in the world.

Crust

84g (⅔ cup) pecans

60g (½ cup) matzo meal

66g (⅓ cup) granulated sugar

71g (5 tbsp) Kosher for Passover vegan margarine (Rakusen’s Tomor*), melted, + extra for greasing

Pinch of salt (optional)

Ganache

113g KFP vegan dark chocolate (Lindt Excellence 70%, Green & Black’s 70%, Green & Black’s cooking chocolate are all KFP)

113g coconut cream/full-fat coconut milk

A few drops of vanilla extract (optional)

Caramel

200g caster sugar

100g KFP vegan margarine (Tomor)

200g coconut cream/full-fat coconut milk

Whipped cream

200g coconut cream/full fat coconut milk, kept in the fridge overnight

15-45g KFP icing sugar (check it doesn’t contain maize starch. You could probably omit the sugar and leave the cream unsweetened if you can’t find it, or grind your own- there are recipes for Passover powdered sugar online.)

¼ tsp vanilla extract

3-4 bananas

cocoa powder or grated chocolate to serve (optional)

chopped pecans to serve (optional)

Method

Make the caramel. Place the sugar into a medium / large saucepan. Place the pan on the hob over a low heat. Allow the sugar to melt, this will take around 5-8 minutes. Don’t burn the sugar! Make sure to stir constantly to prevent burning. You can use a wooden spoon or heat proof spatula.

When all of the sugar has melted and is a golden / amber colour, add in the margarine. Be careful, as the sugar is very hot. Remove the pan from the heat and stir to combine. Allow the margarine to melt into the sugar. It might bubble but that's fine. Once it’s combined, it might have a thick consistency. It might look like the margarine isn’t mixing with the sugar, but it should combine once you add the cream. Now add in 200g coconut cream. It will steam and bubble again so be careful.

Add the pan on the heat and allow to simmer for 3-5 minutes to help thicken it up.

Remove the pan from the heat. Set aside to cool for 30 minutes, then transfer / pour the caramel into a heat proof jar. Place the jar into the fridge. Allow to chill overnight. The coconut cream for the whipped cream should also be kept in the fridge overnight, to encourage it to separate and firm up.

If the caramel separates overnight, use an electric whisk to combine into a smooth consistency until there are no remaining lumps. It’ll be a more custard-like texture but still delicious. Keep caramel in the fridge until needed.

Make the crust. Preheat oven to 180˚C. Grease a loose-bottomed tin with margarine and line with greaseproof paper.

Blitz the pecans in the food processor until finely processed. Add matzo meal, salt and sugar and pulse until the entire crust is uniform in colour. With the processor on, drizzle the melted butter into the machine.

Once all the butter has been added, turn the processor off and dump the wet crumbs into the bottom of the lined pan. Using the back of a spoon, press the crumbs evenly into the bottom and up the sides of the pan (it doesn’t have to go all the way up, just as much as you can).

Place the crust in the oven for 8-10 minutes, or until the edges of the crust start to brown a bit and smells fragrant. Leave crust to cool for about ten minutes and then transfer to the fridge to finish cooling.

Make the ganache. Finely chop the chocolate and put in a medium-sized bowl. Put 200g coconut cream in a microwave-safe bowl and heat in the microwave for about 1 minute, watching to make sure it doesn’t bubble over.

Pour the warm cream over the chocolate chips and let sit for 2-3 minutes. Don't stir yet.

After 2-3 minutes, whisk the chocolate/melted coconut milk until smooth. Add vanilla if desired. Let cool in the fridge for around 30 minutes.

Make the whipped coconut cream. Chill a mixing bowl in the fridge for ten minutes (you can do this while the ganache is cooling to save time). Put 200g coconut cream (the thick white part, not the clear liquid) in the chilled bowl. Beat for 30 seconds with an electric whisk until creamy. Add vanilla and icing sugar and mix until creamy and smooth – about 1 minute. Avoid overwhipping because it can cause separation. Taste and adjust sweetness as needed.

Carefully run a knife around the edge of the crust tin and remove the crust from the tin.

Spread a layer of the cooled ganache over the bottom of the crust. Top with a layer of sliced banana and return to the fridge to set for ten minutes.

Add a layer of the caramel, another layer of sliced banana, and return to the fridge for ten minutes again.

Top with the whipped cream (I like to leave the edge of the bananas visible around the edge). Dust with cocoa powder or grated chocolate and add chopped pecans if desired.

*Tomor contains sunflower oil, but sunflower oil is not considered kitniyot in England: https://www.kosher.org.uk/article/sunflower-oil-kitniyot

#Passover recipe #pesach 5783 #pesach 2023 #pesach recipe #passover #Passover 5783 #Passover 2023 #Passover food #pesach food #פסח 5783 #פסח #פסח שמח #jumblr #judaism #jewish #jewish food #kosher #kosher food #kashrut

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lavenoon · 2 years ago

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So we know that the boys have claws and tasers, but do they have the more daycare related features? Like temperature detection, or even heating for their bodies if someone’s cold?

Okay this sent me down a worldbuilding rabbit hole while also solving the mystery of Sun and Moon's origin. This is probably gonna contradict a bit of early AU content because I didn't quite see them as daycare attendants in this au, but now. Whoopsie.

So animatronics are established members of society - but that doesn't tell you anything about why and how they're made. Because we're not going the admittedly iconic route of Robots (2005).

When animatronics are made, beyond a rudimentary AI they're basically blank slates in regards to personalities. They're not made with a specific purpose, but after an acclimation period that gives them some time (I want to say a few months to a year, as I don't know how similar to real AI learning tempo they would be) to develop their own minds (and we'll go utopian future vibes so they get free housing and universal basic income) they get to pick from a list of jobs that they'll work at for a while. How long depends on multiple factors, as the purpose is that they pay off the cost of their production. It's a credit they pay off at their own pace, so it can take a long while. There's some interest if they take more than maybe 3 to 5 years, but otherwise they're free to choose how long they take.

The list they get depends on their functions, so it's at least somewhat predestined. If however an animatronic would be entirely unhappy with their choices, they can pick a different job. The cost for suitable upgrades is added to their credit.

This means they already have some job experience when they're entirely free to do as they want.

Sun and Moon I imagine now would have chosen to be daycare attendants as well as security - Sun more the first, Moon more the latter, but both dabbling in either. That's why they have the security functions, but also why those are adapted to Moon. They took just under the time before the interest would have hiked up, because they were costly but ambitious. Their two AI one animatronic situation was somewhat an experiment, with the inbuilt switch adding a lot of production cost.

They stayed at their daycare for a little while longer before they started job hopping, staying for a few months to a year at different places until at some point (years later) Eclipse secured them the spots as agents. In the canon timeline, this is the longest they've stuck with a job since their daycare days - guess they found what they were missing all this time (:

Now to the actual answer to your question.

They don't have the heating - I imagine they usually run between 25 and 30° Celsius (77-86° Fahrenheit), so cozy as any well used but not overheating (non gamer) PC. Heat proofing all of their finer machinery would have been even pricier, and risking burns also isn't something they deemed necessary.

(rest mode of course is at a lower temp)

Temperature is a slightly modified (improved) function of their touch sensors in their hands, pretty easy overall. They could distinguish temperature before already, and adding some sensitivity wasn't too pricey.

Heartbeats I established before however are out, they can feel a pulse better than a human already without their own to distract them!

They can hear slightly better than humans on average, maybe in the top 10% of the hypothetical normal distribution in humanity. That's just something most animatronics do though and didn't cost them extra.

I think for other extras I'll decide on an individual basis as I can't think of other daycare specific functions rn, but the general answer would be Yes! Some, that were worth it, and for the rest they make do.

Honestly, you can treat anything like Schrödinger's feature now - I'm not sure how much of this will come up in canon, so as long as you could justify it to yourself they can have it! <3

#answer let luce #anonymous #accidentally undercover #im sorry to the other asks in my inbox I will get to you tomorrow #this one sent me down a rabbithole of thinking and distracted me #and tomorrow still the drabble will be the priority probably #bc im excited #but im also unhinged so i might multitask #hehe #this was fun to think about and it feels nice to have an explanation for how animatronics slot into the world

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stories-poetry4all · 8 months ago

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Do I have your undivided attention, Ms. Goodacre?"

I snap my focus back to my boss, Ivan Stepanov, who's giving me that trademark look of his—not that I've messed up, but because that's just his default setting.

Truly, he's the living proof of the cautionary tale parents tell their children about the risk of a face freezing in a permanent scowl if they're not careful.

I suppose his annoyance is somewhat justified. Not that he knows it.

He just caught me in the middle of a vivid daydream, where I'm wielding a magical remote with the power to silence his endless chatter at the press of a button. My fantasy escalates to the point where I hit the fast-forward button, zipping him through his lavish office's panoramic windows and into a comedic dive into the bustling streets of Manhattan.

It's hard to fault my daydream; the day has stretched my patience to its limits, and I can feel my stomach growling.

I am thoroughly DONE with jumping through hoops for him today.

I've been at Stepanov Holdings since an ungodly hour this morning, after leaving the office last night at 10:00 P.M. For goodness' sake, I even missed the Season Finale of the Bachelor.

I haven't had a moment's peace today, and now, without having had my lunch at 3:00 P.M., I'm just about ready to call it quits on this devil in an Armani suit.

Without my trusty sidekick—aka four shots of espresso—I'd be a goner for sure.

Yet, even fueled by caffeine, I'm a hot mess express.

I'm mentally face-palming for convincing myself that buying these ultra-skinny work trousers on sale was a savvy decision.

Right now, my legs are on the brink of rebellion, decidedly unhappy about being crammed into what I thought was a steal of a deal. I had to wear an extra long dress shirt to mask my camel toe.

Ivan, meanwhile, is the picture of unbothered elegance.

It's actually unfair how he manages to look like he's stepped out of a magazine, despite being on the go as much as he is.

His suit, his stubble, those piercing eyes—nothing's out of place.

"Ms. Goodacre, you haven't answered my question."

"Oh, right," I manage to say. "Yes, you have my full attention." My eyes dart to my notebook. "The financial report is due to be reviewed by Mr. Thompson in Compliance first thing. Also, new ergonomic chairs for the executive conference room have been ordered, and I'll follow up on the delivery. Your 10:00 A.M. tomorrow is now at 11:30, the 11:30 has moved to 2:15. And for next Thursday's meeting, I've left a note saying—they can, um, 'get lost.' Did I miss anything?"

Ivan raises an eyebrow, a gesture that could mean anything from ‘I’m impressed’ to ‘you're on thin ice.’

"Is there a hint of sarcasm I detect?"

Keeping my expression as blank as possible, I reply, "Not at all, sir. After the incident with the incorrect financial forecast last month, you wanted 'zero sass'. I remember."

"Hm."

That sound, coming from Ivan Stepanov, the enigmatic CEO of Stepanov Holdings, is enough to send shivers down the spine of anyone. I've seen it—a supplier once came in to negotiate a contract and left looking like they needed a stretcher, all because of a single "Hm" from Ivan.

He's not just formidable to outsiders; even I've been on the verge of tears more times than I can count since starting here. And yet, here I am, plotting his remote control demise as a form of twisted self-therapy. What has my life come to?

"And the email I asked for?"

I hand a printed email to the corporate lion.

He looks at me, his gaze as penetrating as a laser.

"I asked for this to be emailed, Miss Goodacre," he says with a voice smoother than a whiskey on the rocks.

"Oh, it’s been sent," I retort, sprinkling just the right amount of sass into my words. "But given its vanishing act last time, I thought a hard copy might stick around longer."

He raises his eyebrow again. I’d bet a million dollars he popped out of the womb with that exact same intimidating expression.

Intimidating and sexy.

It's in fleeting moments like this I find myself admiring just how unforgivably handsome he is. Despite my best efforts. The tall, dark, and brooding thing really works for him. If only his personality matched the exterior.

Wishful thinking.

With the elegance of a maestro, Ivan navigates to his inbox, spots the email, and dives into a reply. All business, no pleasantries.

Then, without missing a beat, he's onto his next demand. "I’ll be having a late lunch from that Mediterranean place on 5th. They're always swamped, just so you know. Please tend to the paperwork on your desk when you return."

Being an assistant to a man who thinks the world revolves around his wants requires a particular brand of insanity.

If I didn’t need this job so badly, I might just have the courage to tell him where to shove his five-star meal.

"Thank you, Miss Goodacre."

Clearly, my time's up.

As I make my way to Medina, the city's rhythm pulsates through the streets, a symphony of honking taxis, chattering pedestrians, and the ever-present tune of sirens in the distance.

Navigating Manhattan's Financial District is akin to playing a real-life game of Tetris, where I dart and weave through an obstacle course of tourists mesmerized by skyscrapers stopping to snap a photo of literally everything.

It’s a dance of waiting, smiling politely, and gently nudging the staff with a reminder that I am there to pick up an urgent business lunch for Stepanov Holdings to get the order expedited.

Upon securing the culinary treasure, I return to Stepanov Holdings Headquarters. The building, much like Ivan, stands tall, imposing, and unapologetically opulent.

By the time I return, holding Ivan's gourmet lunch and my modest salad, he's vanished.

Typical.

As I settle down to tackle the mountain of paperwork he's generously left behind, my desk phone starts ringing off the hook.

My phone becomes a hot potato, passing from one crisis to another with the skill of a seasoned diplomat promising that Mr. Stepanov will indeed return all calls, knowing fully well he won't.

Between bites of my salad and sips of coffee that's already gone cold, I navigate the treacherous waters of high finance by soothing egos and making promises I can only hope Ivan will keep.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

A smidgen of recognition from Ivan wouldn’t hurt.

Some acknowledgment of the tireless effort behind making his life run as smoothly as a well-oiled machine.

As I glance at his untouched lunch, a part of me wants so badly to dump it on over his head. I’ll have to save that vision for my next daydream.

Ivan sweeps back into the office like a stormfront.

"The paperwork, Miss Goodacre," he says, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

My eyes dart between the semi-conquered paper mountain and him. "I didn't forget." I start, trying to keep the frustration from my voice. "Your clients have been calling nonstop, and I’ve been doing my best to keep them from losing their cool."

He fixes me with a look that could freeze lava. “Ten minutes."

I open my mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stops me—the unyielding demand, the expectation of perfection.

In his world, there's no room for excuses, no space for the human element.

He leans in, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "I hired you because I thought you could handle the pressure. Don't prove me wrong."

With that parting shot, he strides away, leaving me feeling about two inches tall.

It's moments like these that I question my life choices.

Anger and frustration bubble up inside me like a shaken soda bottle, threatening to explode. But I refuse to cry, refuse to show any weakness in this high-stakes game of corporate chess.

Instead, I channel all that emotion into finishing the paperwork, my fingers flying over the keyboard like a pianist in the midst of a frenzied solo.

Feeling like I could blow up any minute.

Finally, with the printouts in hand, I march to Ivan's office.

I drop the papers onto his desk with a deliberate thump, watching them scatter forcefully.

He looks up, his expression unreadable as the papers flutter across his desk.

"That’s everything you asked for," I announce, my voice quivering with a storm of suppressed fury. "Now if you don’t mind, I’m clocking out for the rest of the day." The words hang between us, a bold line drawn after a day where every ounce of my patience was tested.

For a moment, Ivan only watches me, his dark eyes giving nothing away.

It's infuriating, like shouting into a void and waiting for an echo that never comes.

Ivan finally breaks the tense silence, his voice as steady and composed as ever, betraying no sign of irritation or amusement. "Miss Goodacre, you’re free to leave," he says, his tone embodying the very essence of professional detachment he has practically made as his signature.

I quietly leave his office, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest.

I gather my things, pretending to be calm, my hands shaking as I shove my laptop into my bag.

I could totally be fired tomorrow.

I don't look back as I leave, the doors closing behind me with a finality that feels oddly satisfying.

The cool air hits my face, and I take a deep breath, trying to let go of the anger and the frustration.

As I walk, my mind keeps replaying the scene in Ivan's office.

That unreadable look in his eyes, was it indifference or something else?

"The chemistry is off the charts and the characters work well together.

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44gamez · 11 months ago

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The Final ‘Marvel Snap’ Balance Update of 2023 Affects Professor X, Werewolf by Night, and More – TouchArcade

It appears that evidently Marvel Snap (Free) has yet one more present to offer us earlier than the builders log out for the 12 months. Pals, it’s the present of stability adjustments, and it’s one which Second Dinner retains on giving all 12 months. It’s going to really feel like sweet to some gamers and coal to others, however nevertheless it hits your favourite decks, it’s vital to know what’s in it so you'll be able to modify accordingly. Let’s go over all of the adjustments on this closing over-the-air replace of 2023. Let’s go over the nerfs first in order that we are able to finish on a happier word. The largest of the bunch is Professor X. He’s an awesome ace to have up your sleeve, given he can fully shut down a location and rating you a decisive win. His potential isn’t altering, however his stats are. Charles will get out of our heads by transferring from 5-Price 3-Energy to 5-Price 1-Energy. You'll be able to nonetheless use him the identical manner, however you’re not going to have the ability to rely on his energy to provide the win for the spot.

The subsequent nerf comes for the comparatively lately added, and intensely highly effective, Werewolf by Evening. He’s undoubtedly change into the shining the star of the Bloodstone playing cards with the best way he can construct energy rapidly. Like Professor X, his potential stays unchanged. His stats have been adjusted, nevertheless, making him a 4-Price 4-Energy card as a substitute of a 3-Price 3-Energy card. This delays his entry into the sport and likewise strikes him out of the Surfer Squad. Seems to be like Brood’s again on the menu, children! Black Widow will get a blended change. It feels extra like a nerf than a buff but it surely isn’t absolutely one-sided. Her stats change from 2-Price 1-Energy to 3-Price 3-Energy. On the one hand, she now packs a little bit little bit of a punch applicable to her value. Alternatively, it’s tougher to play her a number of instances now, so that you gained’t be capable of set off her impact so usually. On the third hand, she now qualifies for the Surfer Squad. Swings and roundabouts.

One other blended change that makes the character qualify for the Surfer Squad is Viper. She’s been used as a really strategic card previously, and he or she rapidly discovered a house with playing cards like Annihilus bolstering decks that mess with the opponent. Her potential is untouched, however her stats transfer from 2-Price 3-Energy to 3-Price 4-Energy. In keeping with the developer notes, that is to assist maintain Viper and Havok from being an excessive amount of of a spoiler. Yeah, I can see that. Truthful beans. On to the buffs. Martyr just about fell flat on her face. Her potential works in opposition to you, and even together with her low value her energy simply didn’t justify that threat. She will get one further level of energy from right here on out, going from 1-Price 4-Energy to 1-Price 5-Energy. Will it assist? I assume we’ll see. Gladiator will get the same tweak, transferring from 3-Price 7-Energy to 3-Price 8-Energy. Sort of awkward seeing two such latest playing cards getting balanced tweaked already, however no less than they’re transferring in a optimistic course moderately than a detrimental one.

Ronan the Accuser will get a giant win this time. His potential stays the identical, as with all of at present’s adjustments. However his stats have gotten a really good buff, transferring him from 5-Price 3-Energy to 5-Price 5-Energy. Maximus has gotten a stat change too, and it’s being painted as a buff to help Ronan moderately than a nerf to punish the Surfer Squad. Maximus strikes from a Surfer-tastic 3-Price 7-Energy to 2-Price 6-Energy. And I’ll stuff the final buff in right here, with the Punisher getting an additional level of energy, transferring from 3-Price 2-Energy to 3-Price 3-Energy. Maybe he’ll make the Surfer Squad minimize now. That’s it for the stability adjustments on this Marvel Snap replace. We in all probability gained’t be seeing any information for the sport till the brand new season drops in 2024, so if you happen to occur to solely learn my work by way of these Marvel Snap tales, I assume I’ll see you subsequent 12 months. Good luck with all of the Snappings and such! Read the full article

#Affects #Balance #Final #Marvel #Night #Professor #Snap #TouchArcade #Update #Werewolf

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beesandwasps · 1 year ago

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A Freezable From-Scratch Marinara Sauce Recipe For Non-Cooks

Here’s a basic recipe for a sharp, garlicky marinara sauce, which has the following virtues:

Cheap to make when roma tomatoes are cheap

Vegan (although that was not intentional)

Can be put into freezer-safe containers and frozen for months and still tastes good when defrosted (which means you can make a lot at once when you have time/energy and not have to cook again later)

Low in sodium

The downsides:

Takes a long time to cook (because it uses fresh tomatoes)

Even if you love garlic, you may find that cooking enough garlic for a double or triple recipe of this sauce is overpowering (really and truly, I didn’t realize that garlic could make your eyes tear up like onions until I tried making a triple batch to split up and freeze)

One batch makes enough for approximately 8 servings of pasta, depending on how much sauce you like and whether you cook the tomatoes extra time to make the sauce thicker. (If you are making the recipe for the first time and will need 8 servings exactly, it might be worth making a double (or at least 1.5x) recipe and being ready to freeze any excess, to make sure.)

Total time: at least 75 minutes — 10-20 minutes of ingredient prep time, anywhere from 50 to 80 minutes of not-particularly-taxing cooking time.

Ingredients:

~1¼ pounds (~0.55 kg) roma tomatoes (roughly 5 large ones); apparently san marzano tomatoes will also work, but I have not tried them

3 large (or equivalent in smaller) cloves garlic (adding an extra clove, or two if making a double/triple recipe, is not at all a bad idea)

2 Tbsp fresh basil (or 1 Tbsp dried basil)

¼ tsp ground black pepper

½ tsp dried parsley

¼ tsp salt

2 Tbsp olive oil (possibly 3 or 4 if you like a stronger olive oil flavor)

Utensils:

A large saucepan (or, for multiple-batch recipes, a large pot) — do not use a nonstick pot if you can avoid it

A sharp knife

A large container to hold the cut-up tomatoes

A small container to hold the cut-up garlic

A garlic press if you have one*

Some sort of cutting board/plate

A large cooking spoon

Containers to freeze the sauce in if you are going to freeze it

*Note: if you do not have a garlic press, but like garlic, I suggest getting one, because it is much easier to use and clean one than to do a really good job mincing fresh garlic. They’re also relatively cheap, and just one will probably last you a lifetime, so the cost per use is low. This is one of the few single-purpose tools I have ever purchased which has justified its own cost. But if you don’t actually like and use much fresh garlic, forget it.

Instructions:

Wash, de-stem, and cut up the tomatoes into chunks of approximately 12ths or 16ths apiece. (Don’t worry too much about appearances or uniformity — they don’t have to be minced, or uniform in size, they’re going to cook long enough to start falling apart naturally. They just need to be cut up enough to let them cook in their own juice.) Set them aside in a large container.

Peel the garlic cloves and cut off the top stemish part. If you have a garlic press, just set the whole peeled cloves aside for now, otherwise mince them. Set them aside in a small container.

In a large saucepan or pot, heat the olive oil on high heat for around two minutes. (If you are experienced: until it is ready to sauté the garlic.)

Reduce the heat somewhat; if you have a garlic press, put the garlic through it and into the oil, otherwise add the minced garlic. (Warning: if you are making a double or triple recipe, you may find that when it first starts cooking the large quantity of garlic will make your eyes sting and water just like onions, even if this does not normally happen to you. If you have a strong exhaust fan over your stove, turn it on as high as it will go, and in any case don’t sniff at the pot until the garlic has had a chance to cook a bit and the first puff of gas has had a chance to disperse.) Keep stirring the garlic so it doesn’t burn to the bottom of the pot. Cook for about 2 minutes.

Add the tomatoes, and stir. Once the mixture is simmering, reduce heat so it remains merely simmering and not boiling. Cook for at least 30 minutes, until the tomatoes have mostly fallen apart, stirring at least once every 2 minutes to keep anything from sticking to the bottom and burning; if you like your sauce thicker, let it keep cooking for 15-20 minutes longer to evaporate more of the water content. (If you are making a double/triple recipe, you may need to extend the cooking time even more.)

Reduce heat again. Add the basil, parsley, black pepper, and salt, stir them in, and cook for another 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

If you are going to freeze some or all of the sauce, wait for it to cool first and then ladle it out into the freezer-safe containers. Make sure to split it up into individual containers so that one container is enough for whatever size one typical batch of pasta is in your house, because it is not a good idea to re-freeze things repeatedly and you can’t easily split up a frozen blob of sauce.

(Come to think of it, a single side-dish-sized serving of pasta uses about as much sauce as would go in a single partition of a standard ice cube tray, so you might be able to conveniently freeze the sauce that way. I have not tried this so I have no idea if/how well it would work.)

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viktuurionice · 2 years ago

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Alsooo, as an unrelated fun fact... since I've been bitching nonstop today... maybe this entire week actually...

I canceled my Netflix subscription since I don't use it enough to justify $15 a month in general... (like if it was an added fee to add people, FINE. I get adding a fine if people are password sharing. If its reasonable people will still share the account but share the price, right? No problem. Hell, id pay and extra $5 a month if i could share my password with relatives in a different state. Like id pay $20 a month to look at my relatives and say "you dont have to pay for netflix, heres my sccount, we'll share) but having to log in to home wifi with 3 devices... while I could PROBABLY pass sounds annoying and frustrating. My wi-fi is through my housing. Idk what that is even going to do. Multiple apartments and buildings use the wifi... and while I like to THINK Netflix would be fine with multiple accounts on the same Wi-Fi, what if they decide that's a no go too? Or you can't log into your "home" wifi because it thinks your someone else on the wifi? What happens? I know how to pirate. Don't test me. I'm not playing this game, I'm working around it. Like, the point of paying dor a streaming service rather than orienting it is to share the passwords

And I don't use netflix enough to really justify it, particularly when they have ads on mobile (hilarious in the stupidest way btw. Like. I use my student spotify sub for hulu. But I'd pay $7 a month for it with ads all things considered but its cheap with ads for a reason. I actively like Hulu despite its flaws for now. No ads is another deal and understandable imo. Not ideal but if i was derpserate, hell yeah)... so.... I canceled my subscription and because a friend gives me his crunchyroll login and he wanted a dropout.tv account (dropout being way cheaper than crunchy or netflix. Like i shit you not) I just... was like "dude I canceled Netflix yesterday. I know you want an account but let me make one, pay for it, and I'll give you my password, because they allow sharing"

So despite me barely watching dropout, I now have an account. It's a fun site! I like their content! I've just... never been super determined to watch a lot... but their pricing is more than reasonable and if you're gonna give me access to 2-3 streaming services (cause it ain't just crunchyroll) I'll pay for a $6 a month service for us both to watch. Dropout is fun and I've watched it with other people and it helps with my depression. It's cheap and fun and like... while I'm sure it's not the best streaming service it provides a type of entertainment that is cathartic for me. Like, it's not a mainstream streaming service but it does help me and I know it. And I have a friend overjoyed to have it, and we cabln SHARE the account? HELL yeah. So if I have a GUNG-HO friend that really wants it? And it helps me? Of course I'll pay the monthly fee and share my account. It's worth more to pay $6 for a shared account than $15 for a single account. And yeah, you can settle for lower streaming quality from netflix for about $10 a month... but im still probably paying for the cheaper services. And the ones I can actively share. Because if I'm not watching it and someone else is it pays for itself, ya'know?

Like dude has been blowing through dimension 20 all week. Was about to make his account and I went "nah, you give me crunchyroll and I just canceled my most expensive streaming service, I gotchu" like, even amazon prime for students is cheaper. Netflix if you don't wanna join blockbuster, get it together cause you about to follow suit buddy

#personal #streaming service rant

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imperial-nuisance-rudje · 1 year ago

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Most of my WoLs will probably be fine as of 7.0, but there's a few that are definitely not.

Shayun, especially, is going to be in a very bad state barring any kind of catharsis about Zenos that I'm pretty sure the game will never give. He's already staying out of most of the 6.x msq content after 6.1 entirely because his cowols can handle things and he just... doesn't want to deal with reminders of a dead man who he has complicated romantic feelings over when he still hasn't recovered from his partner dying in the Calamity, much less his fiancé dying in his arms during HW and Zenos's death being very easily laid at his own feet (not to mention that most people, including his coWoLs, understandably think Zenos being dead is a boon to the world so he has basically no understanding offered to him outside of Fraj and Myste). I don't think he's going to be fine by 7.0 unless they pull some real bullshit that even I will call bullshit on and the excuse plot to get him on-board the idea will probably be that his coWoLs are worried about him and think getting him into an entirely novel environment will at least distract him long enough that he can like, let himself grieve properly instead of letting Fraj take over like in 3.x/early 4.0 and isolating himself without letting anyone else figure it out (granted, it would be much harder for him to do that now bc Fraj is a known entity to at least A'pple and Fraj isn't going to passively accept subtle self-harm like that anymore, but it's not like they know that Fraj wants to protect Shayun first and foremost).

Basically the only reason the MSQ hasn't been the worst half-decadeish of Shayun's life is that he was a Woodwarder and spent close to 15 years trying to deal with severe trauma with his only tools to do so being severe substance abuse and quail/pigeon husbandry.

Momoka's going to be in an odd state because while he also has messy romantically-inclined ??? feelings about Zenos, his biggest problem is more something Zenos left behind.

...Namely, Momoka's going into 7.0 with a toddler in tow because he's not leaving his Zenosbby daughter behind while he goes to a completely unknown continent (because I, like a fool, put my money on declouding Ilsabard for 7.0 when making this choice).

Like, even if he wasn't still processing what happened to her dad and trying to figure out if that means he needs to be aware in case Z shows up again, Kohaku is going to be two at very oldest. She may not even be weaned yet, depending on how long I put for 6.x in his timeline. He's not ready for anything new to happen because he wants to fucking lie down and sleep for a week, because even with the polycule offering several hands to help she is still a very small (and autistic, not that they realize that yet outside of her being super fussy) child. The extra time he gets in the timeline because of her being conceived and born gives him time to heal more from The Worst Month In His Life (endwalker) than the rest and he is in a general Good End AU so he has somewhat less overall msq trauma... but he's still so fucking tired. If they don't rock up with an explicit offer of a vacation it's going to be a pain in the ass to justify for him.

This is of course all assuming I don't end up talking a long look at dawntrail's story and going "mmmmm. nah that didn't happen thanks!!" for the lot but I'm trying very hard to be optimistic even as I brace for BLU 2.0.

From where we sit at the moment, Dawntrail feels strange tonally for my WoL. The one-two punch of Shadowbringers into Endwalker left her broken in many ways, and Alahra is still ultimately the weary wanderer of the Shadowbringers finale, duty-bound to continue on but not always sure that she can. I'm thinking a lot about whether she'll be ready to journey to the New World with the exuberance Meteor displays in the teaser trailer

So a question for all you WoLs out there:

Is your WoL ready for this new adventure? Have they managed to move on from the weight of Endwalker, or do they still bear scars from it?

#final fantasy #oc: light party #oc: shayun ragara #oc: momoka fujiwara

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finerllines · 2 years ago

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love, harry [bestfriend!h au]

a/n: hello everyone i hope yall are still here and reading!! im so sorry it took so long i had a major slump for a couple of months but now im back and im so excited to wrap up charlie and harry's story. thank you for reading!! please give me feedback, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed <3

summary: harry needs his best friend back and he will do anything to get her to love him back

wc: 11k+

tw: none :-)

prev part

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One of the main occupational hazards of being a touring musician is missing things. Eventually, people learn to stop sending invitations. Just as well, it gets harder and harder to find new ways to say ‘sorry, I’ve got work’. When most of the people you grew up with have moved out of your small town, onto bigger and better things, home just becomes wherever you manage to stay for more than a month.

And that’s fine. That’s all Harry can really remember. Life became a matter of watching everyone else’s from a distance. Everyone’s except one.

Charlie.

Instead of Instagram stories and posts, it was personal photos and little vlogs about her day sent straight to him, for his eyes only. He doesn’t know what he did to earn her trust and love, but he has never taken it for granted. Somehow, she was never deterred by his lack of attendance, congratulatory texts and video calls thankfully being enough. Or it was enough, until she got pregnant.

He had worked so hard to show her it’s okay to open up and let people in again, and he went and pissed it all away. But he is determined to not let her shut him out again. Which is why he’s back at her front door, on four hours of sleep, still exhausted from the show the night before.

Nothing brings you back down to earth like standing in front of a door after performing in front of five thousand people, hands filled with grovelling supplies, shaking as it raises to knock.

Despite the many women he’s dated, grovelling is new to him. He likes to think he’s a pretty good boyfriend - he’s attentive, patient, and thoughtful. But by the time they get to the point where he would need to grovel, he normally already has one foot out the door, so instead of trying to make amends he accepts their fate and ends things. Cruel? Sure. But it’s the truth. He’s never really loved or cared about anyone enough to want to make the extra effort.

Except Charlie. And Charlie has never been mad at him.

Until now. Justifiably so.

It’s not that Harry doesn’t want to have this conversation, it’s all he’s wanted to do since their call, he just doesn’t know where to start.

Should he bring up the pure rage he felt when he saw the pictures of them and Richard? Or is that something he should save for later, after he has figured all of that out himself? He’s a jealous guy, everyone knows that, but he’s never felt jealousy so ugly and intense like that before, it felt so primitive and guttural; the near uncontrollable urge to remind Richard, and everyone, that Charlie does not belong to him. Problem is, Charlie doesn’t belong to him either. And neither does Rory. Less so now than ever.

He used to think he feels so strongly about her because she is a piece of his childhood, a piece of the Harry he used to be. Now, these feelings are undeniably romantic. None of her previous partners ever felt like a real threat because he was always confident that their history and the connection is stronger than anything these men would have to offer her. Then Richard made a baby with her. Talk about a connection.

Those weeks spent with Rory and Charlie were bliss. There hasn’t been a day spent without thinking about how they were doing since: whether Rory ate all her breakfast, or whether Charlie found the time to watch an episode of Taskmaster with a glass of wine. And when the domestic got too emotional for him, he would start to wonder what her skin would feel like if he ran his hand under her shirt, or what sounds she would make if he nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck, peppering it with soft kisses and licks.

But none of that is as important as their friendship. So, until he figures out all of that out for himself, he needs to focus on apologising and begging for forgiveness.

Taking a deep breath, he wipes his palms on his thighs before knocking the door. While waiting, he talks himself through more deep breaths. It’s a good thing he did because when the door gets pulled open his breath hitches a little.

Finally seeing the person you’ve been missing and thinking about is almost life giving. Charlie is stunning, even in an old robe and a braid that looks like it was slept in.

“Harry, hi.”

He had been mentally bracing himself for iciness in her voice. Instead, all he hears is wariness, and half of her body remains hidden behind the door

Charlie is wary of him. Shit.

“Um, H?” she asks when he doesn’t respond.

“Hi,” he raises a hand as a greeting on instinct, forgetting that he’s holding a bouquet of flowers. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” She replies as if it’s ridiculous that he has to ask, but she can't see how guarded she looks right now.

A wave of déjà vu hits. The uncertainty and ball of emotion in his belly reminds Harry of the day he came to confront Charlie about having a baby.

She walks in front of him guiding him to the kitchen.

“Rory’s just eaten breakfast, I’m getting started on mine. You can join me if you’d like.”

In the kitchen playing with a hand towel is the most cheerful baby. The smile that emerges on his face is instinctive, and it’s fortunately shared by Rory. He’s not sure if it’s wishful thinking but he thinks he sees her eyes light up with recognition. He wants to pick her up and cuddle her close, for his own comfort more than anything, but he reminds himself of the agenda and redirects his attention to his best friend.

Standing in the middle of her kitchen, kind of stupidly, he thrusts his hands forward, like a young boy presenting a gift to his crush for the first time.

“For you.”

Her brows quirk up. “For me?”

He nods. “Who else?”

“I don’t know, thought you might be just making a pit stop.” She takes the bouquet first, taking the time to admire the assortment of flowers. “Thank you. These are beautiful.”

After getting it situated in an old jar from under the sink she takes the small gift bag. Setting it on the kitchen counter, she starts to pull things out.

“Is this …” she trails off as she studies the items on the counter.

“It’s the special knife spoon thing you talked about. The one that is designed to get all the peanut butter out the jar. And I got you another set of those small and long wooden spoons.”

She doesn't say anything for a moment and continues staring at his offerings.

While scratching the nape of his neck he says, “Sorry, it was hard to find an apology gift that is meaningful and yet wouldn’t make you mad because I spent a shitload of money on it. I’ll get you a proper gift soon but I didn’t have too much time because of, you know, the –“

“Harry,” she cuts him off firmly, “I love it, thank you. It means a lot, really.” Stepping forward, she wraps her arms around him, squeezing tightly, cheek pressed comfortably against his body.

His heart tightens in his chest. He’s missed this. He was afraid he might never experience this again.

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I feel like all I’ve done since coming back is apologise but I need you to forgive me one more time, please. I really am sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said. You know that, right? I … I was just irrationally jealous and hurt that I wanted to hurt you too. It’s fucked up, but it’s the truth. You’ll only get the truth from now on. I promise. Please believe me.”

How can she not believe him?

The extra precautions taken to keep her anonymity as much as possible while also making sure she could be as involved in his life as she wants. Years of texts, calls, and everything in between where they exposed their truest selves to each other without fear of judgement. Even the way he is holding her now, breath racing in and out, like he might break down if she doesn’t believe him.

“H, I believe you. The things you said … they were fucked. But I can’t stay mad at you, even if I tried.”

Shaking his head, he mumbles into her hair, “Thank you. Thank you. You’re too good for me. You shouldn’t make it so easy for a guy, you deserve grovelling. And I will, I’m not done making it up to you.”

They both hug each other tighter, gripping the fabric on each other’s backs.

“I don’t need grovelling; you’ve already done so much. Besides, you bought me my first bouquet of flowers in like four years and you got me presents that tell me you pay attention to me. I rambled to you about loving small spoons with long handles and how much I hate not being able to clean out the peanut butter jar ages ago, and somehow you were actually listening and remembered.”

“That wanker never got you flowers?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, too practical for that. And for small spoons too.” She coughs to clear her throat. “Also, you’re allowed to curse him you. You were right.”

“About what?” Harry asks.

She makes no effort to explain, simply shrugging her shoulders in faux nonchalance. There’s a brief silence once again, then, a chill shoots up his spine. He places his hands on her forearms and pushes her far back enough to be able to see her face.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Not now, please. Can we talk about it later? I missed you and I don’t want to think about him.”

Of course. He never wants to think about Richard more than necessary anyways.

“Okay, I don’t want him ruining our time together. I want to spend time with my best girls.”

Harry ended up staying the night.

He woke up with Charlie’s head tucked under his, and her knees curled into herself on his lap. Despite the kink in his neck and the knot between his shoulders, he can’t bring himself to separate from her. The heat emanating from her body warms him in a way that soothes him. Their bodies haven’t been this close in forever, not since they were children and had sleepovers in the backyard where they always somehow woke up curled into each other.

Growing up together meant going through that awkward stage of being afraid to get too touchy with each other, and by the time they moved past that, they had both started developing real crushes and entering relationships with other people. Harry thought they were pretty affectionate for platonic friends anyways, but the way they’re intertwined now makes him realise that they can be so much closer, so, so much closer.

Charlie’s face is right there. He can see every crevice, bump, and wrinkle on her skin. His eyes can’t help but trace every feature - round her eyes, down the slope of her nose, and across her lips. He can’t pull his eyes away from her lips. They sit together so perfectly, in the perfect pout, begging to be pinched, bitten, and kissed. Begging to be pinched, bitten, and kissed by him specifically.

He doesn’t notice his face inching towards hers until their noses brush, causing her to tense in his arms. Harry freezes, watching tentatively as her lips purse and eyes squeeze tightly together.

“Uhhmm?” she groans.

Harry slowly moves his hand up and down Charlie’s back hoping to ground her as she slowly wakes up.

“It’s me, darling. Harry.”

“Hmm? H?”

She’s so precious. Harry feels like his heart might burst from how hard it’s beating.

“I’m right here. Good morning.”

With a big huff, her eyes blink open. Her forehead is pinched with confusion as she takes in her surroundings. Slowly pulling her arm from under his body, she reaches up and places her hand on Harry’s face, patting his cheek a couple of times as if trying to make sure he's really there.

With a little chuckle, he covers her hand with his, holding it in place on his cheek. Tilting his head slightly, he presses a small kiss to her palm. “Darling, I’m here. I came over yesterday and we fell asleep on the couch. Remember?”

Satisfied with his explanation, Charlie lets her body go lax against his.

Harry can’t help but smile at the way she trusts him, even half asleep.

Despite being forgiven almost immediately, there’s still a sense of uneasiness that he cannot shake. All of that is in his head though because Charlie has done nothing to make him feel uncertain. The looks, touches, and words they shared yesterday can only be described as tender, both of them obviously still emotionally fragile.

Richard’s fuck up is still unknown to Harry. He doesn’t care though. Not right now anyways. He got to kiss Rory’s cheeks until she erupted into excited giggles and watch as her gorgeous eyes slowly fluttered shut as she fell asleep in his rocking arms. Then, a tired but smiley Charlie tucked herself against him as they watched tv and talked about life with their heads pressed together.

But the feel good atmosphere of yesterday has dissipated, both of them forced to return to reality under the morning sunlight.

A strong vibration bursts their bubble.

When Charlie tries to peel herself from Harry, his arm quickly circles her waist to keep her close to him as he leans to grab his phone on the coffee table.

“Hello?” his voice is gruff from sleep. “I know … I’ll be there on time. I said I’ll be there … yes I know what I’m doing. Okay, bye.”

Talk about returning to reality.

“You need to go,” she says, not asks.

He nods. “I uh, didn’t get in my car to London this morning so they’re just wondering where I am. I have a show there tonight.”

Right. Harry just kicked off his new tour and suddenly appeared at her door after the first show.

The air around them is still as the two friends try to make sense of all that’s happened.

“Of course, you’re an important man.”

“Not too important for you and Rory.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk, like properly, last night, but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’m glad you came, H, and Rory was thrilled to see you. She missed you, a lot. I’ve played your album so much she recognises your voice.”

Harry’s eyes pretty much glaze over at the thought. “Thank you for letting be in her life”

Charlie shakes her head and grabs his hands that have started to tremble. “You don’t need to thank me. I can't imagine you not being in her life. We’re Harry and Charlie, so I'm stuck with you.”

“You’re too good to me,” he whispers, “And we’re Harry, Charlie, and Rory.”

He has to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from saying everything he wants to say. With the last bit of self-control left in his body, he rests his forehead against hers as they lock eyes.

Then, a loud buzzing emanates from the coffee table again. With a frustrated huff, his eyes shut.

“Hey,” she squeezes his hand, “your fans need you.”

They emerge from their little cocoon on the sofa in silence, moving wordlessly in sync as Harry pays Rory one last visit, then leaves for London after a tight hug from his best friend.

As Charlie shuts the door behind her, she can’t help but feel that her living room now feels a little empty. All that’s left is the weight of everything left unsaid between them lingering in the air.

Better Homes and Gardens Exclusive: Harry Styles Shares the Meaning Behind His New Album, 'Harry's House'

Pop music’s most sought after man has a new album coming out and the world is excited. This new release comes from a relatively quiet quarantine period from Styles. He was set to kick off his world tour for his last album, Fine Line, when travel and group restrictions worldwide were announced, and his world went quiet all of a sudden.

His new album showcases an unexpected domestic side to his glistening life. Themes of family, belonging, and domestic bliss shine through so evidently that I can’t help but wonder if all of this is hypothetical or anecdotal.

I bite the bullet and ask. Before I get an answer, he lets out a small laugh, as if he has been expecting it.

“It’s definitely not an autobiography but all the songs come from a very real place in my life. The best thing about writing from real life is that as time passes my relationship with these songs change. Even from when I wrote them up to now, some of these songs listen completely different.”

I ask if that is good or bad. “Depends”, he says after ruminating to himself, “it depends on whether there are any fresh wounds.” Right now, he confesses, some wounds are pretty fresh. “Some are hard to listen to and I’m a little nervous to sing them if I’m honest.”

His earnestness is hard to miss – it shines through in his eyes and his voice. Tucked away in our little corner of the coffeeshop, I can’t help but feel like my high school crush has somehow decided to confide in me and unveil what’s beneath the good looks and charm. I feel almost privileged to be the chosen one, entrusted with his sincerity and vulnerability.

There is nothing manmade or artificial about this man – at least not when it comes to his music. He speaks about each song with so much passion, excitement, and on a couple of occasions, uncertainty. That took me by surprise. He has learnt to let go of needing to be well liked by every listener, he tells me proudly, but the need to impress those he loves will forever be there. Whether that is a strength or a weakness he has yet to figure out.

“That need is almost stronger now. Sometimes songs become a kind of coded message for those who know what I’m singing about. And it’s scary, waiting for a reaction or some approval,” he confesses.

“I spent so much time at home this past year, but I felt like my actual home is someplace else, somewhere that I couldn’t be at that moment in time. Allowing myself to feel everything that I felt and reflect on why I’m feeling these things helped me make sense of all of that. Now I know where my home is, or at least I know where to go to find it.”

From the way he speaks I get the impression that he needs this album to be heard by some people. Not everyone, but a select few. Even though these songs weren’t necessarily written for me, I can’t help but feel excited to enter Harry’s House.

Charlie misses Harry. Like really misses Harry. Getting that little taste of him unlocked the door of longing deep within her and now it won’t shut. Like when you skip lunch then eat a cracker a couple hours later, unleashing a wave of insatiable hunger that can only be made quiet by eating until you cannot breathe anymore.

Basically, she needs so much of Harry until she cannot breathe. Until all she can think about is him.

Something changed. The moment she shut the door behind him that fateful morning, it was like a switch flipped and all she could do from then on is think about him. She’s missed him before, of course, but she’s never quite like this.

She can’t remember if anyone has ever looked at her so tenderly before. Harry’s definitely the most attentive man she’s ever met. Maybe it’s because she has the shitshow of a conversation with Richard to compare it to, but Harry said sorry, and for some reason that was more than enough for her.

Is she an idiot for choosing to believe a man’s words after just being lied to by another? Perhaps. Unfortunately, there is nothing she can do about it. Everything in her wants Harry.

The only contact she’s had with him since he left is a couple of texts. They’ve been casual, nothing too serious – he likes to have serious conversations in person – but enough to let her know that he’s still thinking about her.

“What do you think Rory? You’re a smart girl, right? You latched onto Harry but didn’t really want to play along with Richard, so what gave it away huh? Why didn’t you tell your mummy?”

The dangerous thing about getting too attached to Harry – that is, getting attached in a non-platonic way or in a father-figure to Rory kind of way – is that she’ll grow too dependent on him for assurance. Hearing him tell her that she is a good mother affected her more than she would like to admit. His words already hold too much weight, it would not be smart to give him more authority.

If the Richard catastrophe had to have a silver lining, it made Charlie realise that she needs to get her shit together and live up to the whole ‘strong, independent woman’ thing. She went from being satisfied in her own little world where all that mattered was her and her daughter, to feeling like Rory needed Richard’s love to be complete, as if her as a mother was not enough.

So, as much as her heart hates that Harry’s not here, her brain knows it’s for the best. She hasn’t had a moment like this in a while. Just her and her daughter having a quiet moment together. Sometimes she thinks it’s weird that she's a grown adult with a very adult job with very adult responsibilities, but she speaks to her year old daughter as if she’s a colleague, full sentences and everything.

“You like Harry, huh. What’d you think you’ll call him when you can speak? Uncle Harry? Or just Harry maybe. If you come up with some sort of cute nickname for him, he’ll love it.”

Rory looks up at her with a toy truck in her mouth, drool basically dripping off the toy.

Reaching for a tissue, Charlie sighs with amusement. “You’re just an angel aren’t you.”

It’s about two months later that Charlie and Harry reunite in person. He carved out a free couple of weeks and invited Charlie and Rory down to his flat in London for a ‘sleepover’, as he so put it.

Everything is sorted out for the both of you to stay over. The cot I ordered for Rory has already arrived so you can’t say no. xx

He greets them in the underground carpark. Charlie first sees him when the car he chartered pulls up in front of the lift lobby. With hands clasped behind his back, he has his eyes glued to the entrance, a smile breaking out on his face when he spots them.

After opening the door for them, his hands reconvene behind his back. She can tell they are tightly clenched from the way his forearms flex.

“Hi,” he says, voice a little tentative. He still doesn’t make a move to touch her.

“Hi,” she replies.

She can tell Harry is itching to do something - hug her or kiss her on the cheek - literally anything. His self-restraint is impressive, but she decides to put him out of his misery.

“Can you help bring Rory up please? I’ve got my hands full with the bags.”

He’s nodding instantly. The moment Charlie moves away from the door he’s swooping in to unbuckle the little girl gleefully.

“Hi my little monkey. C’mere.” His voice is soft and intimate.

Harry carries Rory on his front in the baby byon on the lift ride up. Charlie can’t pull her eyes away from their reflection in the mirror the entire time, and Harry can’t pull his eyes from Rory, who is taking in the new surroundings with curious eyes, swinging her chubby little legs back and forth.

Charlie wants to tattoo this image onto the inside of her brain.

It’s almost frightening how easily they slip back into their domestic routine. Apart from the slight tentativeness in their actions, they move around the space with complete familiarity. Before he puts Rory down, he makes sure to look at Charlie for approval first, and when she starts exploring his living room on wobbly steps, he makes sure to trail behind her, ready to grab her if she tries to walk into furniture.

He’s not sure if it’s all in his head, but Rory seems to have become a toddler in his short absence, which makes his heart ache a little. His desire to be there to witness Rory growing up probably crosses some sort of line, especially since Charlie made it clear that he is not a part of their family, however, out of all the inappropriate thoughts he has about Charlie, this one about watching Rory grow up is definitely the tamest.

“She’s basically a teenager now,” he jokes, successfully eliciting a giggle from Charlie.

With a prideful smile, she says, “She’s definitely a smart girl. There’s a song of yours she can recognise. When it plays it public she’ll give me a cheeky look and do a little dance.”

Harry’s head whips around to face her. “Really?”

She nods.

“What song? Do you have a video?”

Her face falters a little. “I don’t have any videos, sorry. It was mainly when we … you know.”

��Oh, right. It’s a new one then.” She nods again. “Thank you for letting me still be part of her life, even though we were –“

“- yeah.” They standing silence watching the exploring baby. “Like I said, I can’t hate you. And I would never make my daughter hate you too.”

He coughs to clear his throat. “What if … what if I want more?”

“More? Well, you’re her godfather, her only godfather, that hasn’t changed. And now that she … now that the father figure role is vacant again, you have her all to yourself.”

“Actually, I meant … um,” he scratches the back of his head, diverting his eyes. He chickens out. “Um, will you tell me about what happened with Richard?”

Charlie lets out a huff and rolls her eyes. She recounts what happened as briefly as possible, distilling Richard’s big villain monologue to only the salient bits, for her sake more than Richard’s.

“Huh,” he pinches his bottom lip, “wanker.”

“Yeah,” she replies, surprised that he doesn’t say more.

“I’m sorry though.”

“Why are you sorry? Richard’s shitty behaviour has nothing to do with you.”

Is this the right time to tell her that Richard’s ego competition with him was not just all in his head? That whenever Richard’s around Harry makes sure to be a bit more attentive and a bit more of a gentleman? That he gets all smug inside when Charlie’s friends tell him what a good boyfriend he’d be? And that he definitely makes sure to shoot Richard a small smirk whenever their eyes meet at parties?

Probably not.

In his defence, Harry owns up to his petty jealousy.

“Because he wouldn’t have come back to mess with you if those photos never got posted. And being slightly less of a dick than him doesn’t say much. The both of you mean so much to me, I panicked and got insecure, so I lashed out and said those fucked up things.”

“Insecure? Because of Richard?”

His nose scrunches, embarrassed. “He was never my biggest fan, and I just knew that once he got the chance, he would find a way to keep Rory away from me, keep you away from me. That’s like my worst nightmare. And being the main man in Rory’s life, Richard doesn’t deserve that. It’s entitled, selfish, and very wrong, but I can’t help it.”

Charlie goes silent at his little confession. “You’d only spent like, two weeks with Rory. I didn’t realise you’d care so much so quickly.”

“I fell in love with her the moment I heard about her. I felt betrayed and angry, but also enamoured, instantly. I didn’t even need to see her. I missed her before I met her.”

To say that Charlie loves Harry would not only be an understatement, but a mistranslation of something so intense and all consuming. Where had this man come from and why hadn’t she noticed sooner.

“Harry, I –“

“- even if I never got to see her again, I would still think about her, all the time. Just like how I’m always thinking about you.”

Their eyes lock in an intense stare, neither knowing what to do next.

Blinking away some rogue tears, Charlie closes her mouth that involuntarily fell slightly agape and crosses the short distance to make her way to Harry. With trembling hands, she interlaces her fingers with his and squeezes.

“I’m afraid that if I say everything I want to tell you, you’ll get scared and run away.” His voice is hushed. If they weren’t standing so close, she would not have heard him.

“I want to hear them.”

“Okay,” he replies. He’s smiling shyly now.

They both linger in the silence as if instinctively knowing that the rest of this conversation has to happen later. That neither of them are brave enough to have this conversation yet.

That night, he brings his girls out for ramen at his favourite spot. They sit facing each other in a booth at the back of the restaurant with Rory at the head of the table in a baby chair. He asks for the baby chair and a set of smaller utensils without any prompting, in fact, Charlie didn't get the chance to bring it up. He gets his favourite tonkatsu ramen and she gets the shio. When the two steaming bowls get placed in front of them, he reaches for Rory’s bowl, again unprompted, and puts in a couple strands of ramen and some soup, making sure to cut up the noodles with a fork and blow on it until it seems cool enough. In between bites of his own food, he checks to make sure Rory is eating her dinner okay, peeking into her little plastic bowl to make sure she’s not running low on food, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

Conversation at the table is minimal. Apart from some comments about the food and the restaurant, the main thing that can be heard from their table is baby babble and slurping.

Charlie likes it this way, she thinks, being able to soak in this moment without any urgency to clear the air or lay everything out on the table. Her heart's aflutter the entire time. To anyone in the restaurant, they just look like a regular family having dinner together and this normalcy is quite frankly making her freak out inside.

Dinner ends relatively early – they need to get back in time for bedtime. The guest bedroom now has a cot in it, the exact one Charlie has back home. He’s a little nervous when Charlie starts examining the stuff he bought. He’s not nervous that he bought the wrong stuff, he’s nervous that she’ll think it’s strange that he knew exactly what to get, that he memorised Rory’s bedtime routine all the way down to the temperature of the room.

She doesn’t comment on anything, of course, she just looks at him with stars in her eyes.

This trip to London is supposed to be a holiday for Charlie, or at least that is what Harry intended. Fine, a city she’s been to dozens of times is not much of a holiday, but Rory has never been out of Manchester, and he stays in a luxury apartment complex complete with a pool and spa.

In his head, he would kiss Charlie goodbye (just on the forehead for now) and head to rehearsals with Rory on his hip, giving her the whole day to enjoy some time to herself. In reality, the uncertainty when he proposes his idea might as well have been written across her face.

“That sounds nice H, but … this is her first time away from home and I don’t really feel okay with not having here with me.” Charlie’s voice suddenly gets louder when she realises what she is implying. “Not to say that I don’t trust you or anything, you’re her godfather of course, but it’s been –“

“Hey, I get it. Don’t worry about it, I’m not offended. I just want you to have some actual time off. You’ve been through quite a lot these past months.”

“I appreciate it, I really do. No one’s quite as thoughtful as you, H.”

Harry turns away to put away their dishes from dinner in the sink, making sure to tuck his face into his chest as best he can to try and to hide the flush blooming on his cheek.

“Well, I’ve got rehearsals tomorrow but my whole evening is free and there’s a Korean restaurant that’s really good. Let me take you, yeah.”

With her back still turned to him, she teases, “Are you asking me out, Styles?”

“Um, we eat together all the time and I would never –“

“Oh, you would never,” she interrupts in mock offence, “I got the picture.”

“That’s not what I meant. The whole Richard thing was so recent I would never try to do anything.”

“H,” she turns to put her hands on his now tense shoulders, “I was just teasing. Korean sounds good. Thanks, H.”

“I’m happy to,” he says, tilting his head back to bump Charlie’s head.

And he means it.

“Hi,” Charlie calls out as she knocks on the door, “sorry we’re early but one of us got a little grumpy. Hope we’re not interrupting.”

Every head in the soundproof room whips around at the new voice. But the person she came in looking for was not one of them.

“Charlie!” Sarah exclaims excitedly, “Hey, not at all we’re almost done. Come in. We haven’t seen you in forever.”

At the mention of her name, everyone else’s face seems to light up with recognition, all joining in with an enthusiastic greeting.

Rory, who was hiding her pouty little face in her mother’s neck, now perks up a tiny bit at the attention.

“And who is this adorable little girl,” Sarah coos, waving a few fingers to try and catch Rory’s attention.

“This is Rory. She might be a little shy because she’s never been around so many people like this before. You wanna say ‘hi’, lovie.” She angles her daughter on her hip to better face Harry’s band and crew.

Despite being in a bad mood the whole day, she refused to take a nap even though she was very patiently rocked for about an hour, Rory is now smiling cheekily, showing off her growing teeth to everyone.

“Can you say ‘hi’?” Charlie prompts again.

Rory drops her head abruptly onto her mother’s cheek. Then, she lets out a noise that vaguely sounds like she’s saying ‘hi’. As if on cue, everyone melts into a puddle of ‘awws’.

“Don’t be fooled she’s not normally this shy. She loves the attention, a little performer.”

With a small smile, Mitch says, “She’s adorable. I see why Harry doesn’t shut up about her. She’s probably his little protégé huh. Maybe our kids can have a little playdate sometime, they’re around the same age.”

“Oh,” Charlie’s caught a little off guard by his revelation, “sure, that sounds nice. She doesn’t get the chance to play with other children too often, I’m worried she won’t learn how to share with how much attention she gets at home.”

“I bet, especially with how much Harry spoils her, huh.”

She can’t stop her cheeks from heating up.

Before she can fruitlessly deny being the object of Harry’s attention, a familiar voice is heard from behind them. “Hey, what’s going on? What are y’all – oh, you guys are early.”

Charlie spins around. “Hi, I hope it’s okay. We didn’t mean to distract everyone.”

“It’s no problem! Monkey is too adorable, how can they not be distracted.” As Harry beelines towards them, his band instinctively makes room for him. “Hi love. Hi monkey.” He gives both Charlie and Rory a kiss on the cheek which causes the little girl to turn her head to look at him. After a couple seconds, her eyes light up with recognition.

Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie sees the band exchange knowing glances.

No longer wanting to be the centre of attention, she insists that everyone get back to work, making her way to the sofa in the corner before anyone can object. (The only person who objects is Rory who tries to make silly faces at her audience for as long as she can.)

“Let’s finish rehearsing so that we can end on time. We don’t want monkey to get too hungry,” Harry instructs.

On the sofa, Charlie sits Rory down next to her. She digs in her handbag for the toys that she always carries with her to hopefully keep her daughter from interrupting the rehearsal. Before she can hand the car to Rory, a larger hand extends into her line of vision with a small pair of green headphones.

“Here, these are for monkey. They should fit her, I double checked to make sure they ordered the right size. I told the band to try and keep it a little quieter, we’ve only got a couple songs left, but just in case maybe she should wear it.”

“You got baby headphones for Rory?”

“Yeah, I want her to come see a show eventually, especially since you said she can recognise my voice, so I went ahead and got these.” The headphones exchange hands and his go behind his back immediately. “I’m not trying to pressure you by the way I was just …”

“H, you don’t need to walk around eggshells around me, or assume that I doubt your intentions.” She quickly scans the room. Satisfied that the other in the room are occupied, she assures softly, “I know you’re not Richard.”

The relief that takes over his body is hard to miss. “I just want to take care of her, and you. The last time I tried to do that I went too far. I don’t want to make that mistake again.”

It’s a surprise that Charlie can see anything because she’s sure she has hearts for eyes. Slow down, don’t get carried away. The reminder doesn’t work, none of the remaining rehearsal registers in her mind, the only time she manages to break out of her reverie is when her daughter starts squirming next to her and trying to take the headphones off. She somehow managed to understand that the music has stopped, so she’s allowed to take them off.

While she’s putting everything back into her purse, Harry thanks everyone for a good rehearsal and sends everyone off with applause. Rory, who has now crawled off the couch, joins in with the excitement by clapping her tiny hands together. Despite producing a negligible amount of noise, Harry manages to see her in his periphery.

“That’s right monkey. Say ‘yay’,” he says while slowly crouching down to meet her eyes. “Say ‘yay’, monkey.”

“Yay!” Rory chimes back.

Harry looks up to meet Charlie’s eyes as if wanting confirmation that that actually happened.

With a downward smile and raised eyebrows, she shoots him a tiny head nod as silent acknowledgement.

When they finally leave for dinner, Harry has Rory in one hand and Charlie’s purse hanging off the other, leaving Charlie to wave goodbye to everyone with a shy smile knowing exactly what this scene looks like.

Tonight doesn’t feel like any of the previous nights.

For a start, Rory isn’t within arms reach of Charlie. And instead of wearing one of the many sensible outfits she brought with her she’s somehow in a dress worth more than her monthly pay.

Harry’s label is throwing a release party tonight, something he conveniently forgot to mention when convincing her to come down to London. An hour into the night, Charlie finds herself sipping on her second glass of champagne and people watching from the sofa at the edge of the room. The dim lights and loud music make her feel safe, like a protective blanket offering some level of anonymity. Not that the party is particularly unsafe. She’s been to enough of Harry’s work events to not feel completely like a fish out of water – smile politely when he introduces her, nurse a glass of whatever to give her hands something to do, and cling to Harry until all the attention becomes too overwhelming. She’s on step three right now, hence the sitting.

Her palm is damp from the condensation from her glass, the champagne now edging on the side of too warm, but she’s too tired to be bothered, her vision having settled on a comfortable level of blurry.

“Long night?” a voice interrupts.

Her head snaps up to see an unfamiliar man looking down at her with a confident smile.

“Uh, yeah.”

The man moves to sit next to her, forcing her to angle her body to face him.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you. I’m Wes.”

She plasters on her polite grin once again and covertly takes a deep breath. “Hi, I’m Charlie. Nice to meet you,” she introduces as she shakes his hand.

“So, why are you sitting all alone with a half drunk glass of bubbly? The night is still young.”

“The night might be but I’m not,” she plays along.

The volume of Wes’ laugh is disproportionate to how funny her joke is.

“Do you want a little pick me up? I’d love if I could have one dance with you.”

Her brows raise when her brain catches on to what is happening. “I don’t know if I have any more dancing left in me,” she says as if she has done any dancing tonight at all.

“That’s fair. Talking’s fine with me too.”

“Oh, you don’t have to sit here with me, I’m fine by myself. Go have fun, find someone else to dance with. The night’s still young after all.”

“Well, you happen to be the most interesting person in the room right now, so I don’t mind sitting here with you.”

Wes’ voice is buttery smooth and his confidence is alluring. Normally her face would flush under all the attention of a self-assured man, however she isn’t feeling it tonight.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Actually, I –“

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. Hey, you’re Waz right?”

“Wes, but yeah. Hey Harry, congratulations.”

“Sorry to interrupt, I need to borrow Charlie.”

Without giving Wes room to dispute, Harry tugs Charlie to her feet by the bicep, ditches her champagne flute after shooting the rest of the alcohol, and leads her to the baby room where Rory and Sarah’s baby is being cared for by a babysitter.

When the door shuts behind her, she asks, “You needed me?”

“Hmm?” Harry hums absentmindedly as he peeks into Rory’s stroller.

“You said you needed me?” she tries again.

“Right. I was bored and wanted your company.” He punctuates his words with a dismissive shrug.

“Harry!”

“What? I missed you.”

“Is that all? Really?”

He shrugs again. She rolls her eyes, yet she can’t stop smiling.

They sit on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, backs pressed against the wall in the silent room. Their only companions are the two babies who are sound asleep, and the babysitter who is sitting on a chair in the corner, trying her hardest to seem preoccupied with her phone.

There could be a hundred other people squeezed into this tiny room, but Charlie would still feel like they are the only two people present. Harry just has that effect on her. His talent for making her feel seen and wanted is astounding.

Sitting facing a plain white wall, Harry starts talking about anything and everything. In the middle of his extensive review of all the dessert options at the refreshments table, her hand finds his and interlocks their fingers tightly. She slouches down to rest her head on his bicep. He reciprocates without missing a beat, cheek resting on the top of her head. She can feel his every breath and she’s sure he can feel the same.

She doesn’t notice that her eyes have closed until a loud buzz emits from Harry’s pocket. He doesn’t move to address it, so she lets herself get comfortable again, only to be interrupted again by a stream of vibrations.

“H, your phone.”

“Sorry,” he mutters. His hand enters and exits his pocket quickly then reaches over to encourage her head to lay on his shoulder again.

“Go check it, it may be important.”

He shakes his head. “Nah.”

They return to their conversation with Harry rambling and Charlie humming in affirmation or disagreement. As her eyes flutter shut again, comforted by the low rumbling of his voice, she focuses on his thumb that is now drawing little circles on her palm to stay awake. It doesn’t work very well because she does fall asleep and is only woken up by harsh whispers.

“… this was done for you, so it would be nice if you could be present at your own party. Everyone has been coming up to me to ask about you. And why aren’t you reading my texts?”

“I am present. I’ve said ‘hi’ to everyone, thanked all the important people, and posed for all the photos.”

“But you’re now hiding here. Doing none of those things.”

“Shh, Charlie is asleep, and so are the babies. Don’t raise your voice.”

“Why are you in here playing babysitter when you are supposed to be mingling and making connections?”

“I’m Harry Styles. That trumps whatever connections I could make.”

Then, there’s a loud smacking sound. Her eyes are still shut but any idiot could guess that the Jeff just smacked his forehead in exasperation. She would too if Harry said something so stupid to her.

“At least say goodbye and thank everyone before you leave, okay? Can you do that one thing.”

“Yes dad.”

Charlie gives up her ruse when she hears the door shut. Peeking out of one eye, she whispers, “Is Jeff gone?”

“You cheeky fucker.” Harry cups her jaw and squishes her cheeks together. “You didn’t think to help me out? You just let me get scolded by Jeff?”

She sits up slowly while rubbing her eyes. “Please, you weren’t getting scolded. I’m Harry Styles. That trumps whatever connections I could make. Pfft.”

As she tries to stand, tattooed arms curl around her waist, trapping her to his side. “I don’t appreciate you making fun of me when I got us out of trouble.”

She squirms in his arms and tries to wriggle free with no success. The more she moves the tighter his arms get.

“Us? I am not the man of the hour. This party is not for me rockstar.”

He cups the back of her head with a hand to press her full body against him basically tucking her into his side. “Well unfortunately for you I’m not leaving your side for the rest of the night. So, if I have to go out and mingle, so do you.”

“You little bitch. You begged me to come here with you.”

“I’m a little bitch?” he whisper-shouts in mock offence.

They start play wrestling in their little corner of the room, completely forgetting that there is a stranger in there with them. Their exchange of tickles and pinches causes them to topple over so that they’re now lying on the ground, Charlie’s body pressing into Harry’s with his arms still circling her waist. When they eventually tire themselves out, they remain stacked on top of each other trying to catch their breath.

He starts playing with the ends of her hair, twirling strands around his fingers then releasing it, only to start twirling it again. Lying with the woman who occupies all of his heart, mucking about on the dirty floor, Harry doesn’t think he has felt this content in a long time.

“Thank you for being here with me, it wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t speak throughout this release.”

“Well, I had to be here, for continuity’s sake, I’ve been there since your shitty X Factor audition.” Charlie clears her throat dramatically, then starts to croon, “Isn’t she lovely, isn’t she –“

“Hey fuck you,” Harry says between giggles and starts to tickle her again.

The door suddenly whips open, Jeff’s stern expression in the doorway.

“Good, nap time is over. Now, go mingle with the guests, please.”

Like reluctant children, Charlie and Harry detangle themselves and straighten their clothes, then dart out the door without making eye contact with Jeff. The moment they are out of Jeff’s eyeline, Harry grabs her hand and tugs her towards him, then shoots her a mischievous grin, like a kid with a secret. His energy is infectious, so, she returns the smile and glues herself to his side gleefully, tucking the moment they shared into a safe space in her brain.

It’s well past three in the morning by the time they’re stumbling out of the car, shushing each other repeatedly to avoid waking Rory up. Neither of them are drunk, that would be irresponsible because Rory is with them, but they are certainly not sober either. Harry has Rory’s car seat hooked on his elbow and he digs into his pocket to produce the house keys for Charlie. They ditch their shoes by the door before heading off to get ready for bed. Harry beelines toward the guest room to get Rory settled and Charlie starts doing the nightly check around the house.

Charlie is applying moisturiser when she hears gentle knocks on the door.

Harry stands behind the door in his boxers.

“Miss me already?” she teases.

He nods. Without thinking, she pinches his bottom lip that is jutting out in a pout. “Can we have a sleepover?”

She lets out a small giggle. "Okay."

He peeks into Rory’s crib before crawling into bed. The length of the day is evident in his face and yet, she can’t help but think he looks adorable with nothing but his head peeking out from under the duvet.

When they started secondary school, they had mutually agreed that they were now too old to have sleepovers. Their usual ‘boy-girl’ activities had to be minimised because they didn’t ‘like each other like that’. Despite being supportive of this decision, Harry remembers how much lonelier his life had become once they stopped spending as much time with each other. He missed getting hello and goodbye hugs, and the way they would lean against each other whenever they would watch tv. The next time they exchanged more than a brief side hug was before his audition. Charlie had grabbed his shaking hands, gave them a firm squeeze, then wrapped him in a hug so tight that he felt his breath catch. His eyes had shut on instinct from the suddenness of everything and the sudden rush of heat that zipped up his body when he felt her body press against his.

Now that Harry has acknowledged that what he feels towards Charlie goes beyond the usual ‘boy-girl’ friendship, he wants to be close to her all the time. He flips onto his belly and rests an arm over her stomach. When that faces no resistance, he curls his fingers around her waist and wiggles closer until he can feel her body heat.

“You mean so much to me,” he mumbles into the pillow, “I need to tell you how much I love you.”

Her body goes rigid under his arm. Neither of them move, their breaths audible in the silence.

“You mean a lot to me too, H,” she whispers.

He sighs.

“Sleep,” he orders, “but stay close to me.”

“Okay, I’m right here.”

Harry wakes when a cold breeze creeps its way under the duvet. Just as he reaches for the edge of the duvet, his arm is mysteriously enrobed in warmth again. It takes a second for the action to register and when it does, he forces his eyes open. With half-shut eyes, he takes in the bed he’s on – familiar but not his own.

Charlie.

He’s still on his stomach, arm stretched out over where his companion was. The rustling from the duvet as he moves to sit up against the headboard alerts the room that he’s awake. As he rubs the sleep from his eyes, he spots Charlie who is standing by the crib holding Rory.

He smiles softly at the sight. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she returns his smile. “You can go back to sleep. Rory was just a little fussy in her crib.”

“Bring her here.”

She hesitates for a moment, then makes her way back to the bed. Once Rory is placed on the soft surface, she immediately tries to walk to the middle of the bed, but the plush duvet is too much for her little limbs and she ends up plopping onto her belly with a shocked expression.

Harry giggles at the sweet girl then reaches forward to pick her up by her underarms. “C’mere,” he whispers, then kisses her chubby cheek. “Good morning, monkey.”

“She’ll start whining for breakfast soon. I can take her to the living room if you want to sleep some more.”

He shakes his head with a pout. “I wanna snuggle until breakfast.”

Rory settles against Harry’s bare chest, gnawing on her fist and slobbering all over, completely unbothered by the fact that she’s skin-to-skin with a man for the first time. Charlie joins them under the covers, eyes never leaving her daughter, trying to take in the scene before her. The thought of lying in bed with her daughter and a man she loves had never crossed her mind. Not even before Richard left the first time. Her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest. Like there’s not enough space in her chest to accommodate the amount of love she feels in heart. Even though she woke up with her mind swirling from what Harry said to her before they fell asleep, right now, she can’t think of anything other than how nice this feels.

She leaves about an inch between herself and Harry which is obviously not close enough for him because he wiggles closer to her and rest his head on her shoulder. With the hand not resting on Rory’s back, Harry pats around until he finds hers and intertwines their fingers again.

Unable to help herself, Charlie comments, “You’ve been touchy recently.”

After a quiet minute, Harry asks, “Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” she replies without thinking twice.

“Can I tell you how much I love you now?”

“Okay,” her whisper is weak.

He takes a deep breath.

“I love you. And I know I love you because no one has made me feel the way you do. I’ve only just accepted that it’s different with you. No one makes me as happy, no one makes me as mad, no one makes me as jealous – I just, I could not function when we weren’t speaking, I’d never felt scared like that before, and I never want to feel like that ever again, I never want to have to worry about never getting to be with you. And you love me too, you have to.”

“Harry.” Harry’s neck aches under the strain of looking up at her. His watches her throat work as she swallows, anxious for her to say more. When she does, it comes in a small whisper, “I love you.”

She doesn’t have to force it past a knot or squeeze it out of her throat. It simply floats out of her, like a sigh of relief.

“Yeah?” Harry’s voice is shaky.

“Yeah.” Charlie’s voice is certain.

Tilting her head down to meet his eyes, she just stares at him with a stupid, toothy grin. Her best friend. Her lover.

They don’t get to say anything more because Rory knows how to pick her moments and she picks this one. She demands breakfast by wiping her slobbery hand on Harry’s chest, looking up at him expectantly.

By now they’ve spent many mornings like this – Rory sitting in her high chair while the adults move around the kitchen preparing breakfast together – and yet it’s somehow more special today. For a start, Harry and Charlie both wear small smiles the whole time, and whenever they bump into each other or cross paths their eyes dart away shyly, as if they didn’t declare their love to each other a minute ago.

Breakfast is apple cinnamon oatmeal topped with Charlie’s favourite peanut butter (that mysteriously appeared in Harry’s kitchen a couple days ago), with a side of coffee and shy glances over the top of coffee mugs.

He is the first to break the silence. “What are ya thinking about?”

“You.”

“Oh yeah,” he’s smirking now, “what about me?”

Charlie averts her gaze and shrugs coyly.

“Can I tell you what I’m thinking about?” She nods. “I’m thinking about you in that dress from last night. When I saw you in it, my first thought was: I should’ve wanked in the shower.”

“Harry!” she scolds, “My daughter is right here.”

“She doesn’t know what I’m saying.”

“Is this what being in a relationship with you is like? You being incredibly inappropriate?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She groans and rolls her eyes, getting up to put the dishes in the sink.

Behind her, Harry calls out in a tone that’s only half joking, “For real though, would you like to know?”

She stays silent just to get on his nerves. It doesn’t take long for him to get out of his chair. An arm wraps around her as his body presses up against her.

He drops his voice and whispers in her ear, “Please say you would like to know.”

“I would like to know,” she admits finally. She drops her head back to rest on his shoulder and presses a kiss to the bottom of his jaw.

His face almost immediately turns scarlet. He can’t wait to get used to this.

They next have time alone when Rory has her afternoon nap. The magic of their initial declarations of love fades a little as they sit facing each other with cups of tea on the sofa. Charlie wants to wait for Harry to break the silence, but she knows he’s taking cues from her. She knows he’s careful to not push things too fast after already taking the first step this morning.

With a deep breath, she lays all her cards on the table.

She tells him that despite how assured she is of their feelings for each other, she can’t help but feel hesitant jumping into a new relationship right now. That even though she knows that he loves Rory wholeheartedly, if they were to start dating, he would need to take a step back from Rory’s life because she can’t risk her daughter getting attached to him, only for him to disappear if things go wrong between them. That she doesn’t know if she can handle having a ‘boyfriend’ rather than a ‘partner’, because she’s not looking for someone to mess around with but someone to share half her life with.

He tells her that it’s going to be a lot harder to keep their lives to themselves once everyone notices that they’re spending more time with each other, but he’ll do his best to keep them safe. That he’s willing to go as slow as she needs because he has been waiting for years already, so he can handle waiting some more. That he understands her fears and is willing to take a step back with Rory because he’s confident that she’s it for him. That he’ll bear half her burdens if she’ll bear half of his.

“You don’t have to be Rory’s dad, by the way. Being with me will be hard enough with you living away, I don’t expect you to take on that emotional burden too.”

“Hey,” Harry pinches her chin gently to tip her head up to look at him, “I know what I’m signing up for. I want to take care and provide for Rory in whatever capacity you’ll let me. She doesn’t need to call me dad, or daddy, or anything – she can decide what who I am to her when she’s old enough – but please let me be there for her, and you. The only part of my heart that is not occupied by you is occupied by her.”

“I love you.”

“Say it again, please.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Can I kiss you now, I’ve been waiting all day?”

She barely completes her nod before Harry’s lips are on hers. His hands cup the sides of her face and their foreheads press together with eagerness. There is no hesitation. Every move intentional.

The kiss is not innocent, but needy.

Charlie runs her hands through his hair then tugs on the hair at the top of his neck to cause him to draw back.

“Wha?” he mumbles.

“I needed to see your face to make sure this is real.”

Harry’s brows furrow as if he’s in pain. “I can’t believe it’s you. I’m so happy it’s you.”

She seals their mouths together again, tilting her head just right to get more of him. Needing to anchor herself, her hands move to his shoulders, clutching on to him as if she’s scared he’ll just disappear.

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss. They kiss until they run out of breath, then dive right back in after a few hurried puffs of air. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough.

Harry has to physically peel himself off of Charlie to get himself to stop. Not that he particularly wanted to stop, he was just getting a little too lightheaded. Both from the giddiness of finally getting to taste her and forgetting to breathe out of excitement. He looks drunk with his slow movements and half-lidded eyes. He feels a little high if he’s being honest.

Not wanting to be too far from her, he rests his forehead on her shoulder and starts giggling to himself.

He can’t believe his luck.

Harry’s been crawling into the guest bed every night since. Sleeping in the same bed is not exactly ‘taking it slow’ but when he couldn’t sleep alone anymore after experiencing what it’s like waking up with Charlie, especially when she’s just across the hall.

Lots of good chats have happened in this bed. They’ve discussed how their long distance relationship is going to look like, when they would tell Anne about their new relationship, and whether she’ll be less reluctant to receive his gifts now that they are more than friends.

It’s my love language. The more things you let me buy you, the more I know you love me. She rolled her eyes so hard.

“Are you ever going to tell me which songs on the album are about me?” she asks when they’re curled into each other one night.

“Lots of my songs are about you, or could be about you, but guess.”

“Matilda?”

“Mmhm,” he affirms. “There’s another.”

She hesitates a little. “Boyfriends?” she asks softly.

“No,” he replies immediately, “if I were to write a song about Richard it would be so blatant and damning that he would be embarrassed to show his face in public again.”

“That’s a little dramatic even for you, rockstar.” After giving it another think, she admits defeat. “I don’t know the other. Tell me.”

“It’s Satellite.”

“Really? I like that one.”

“Yeah.” His voice grows soft. “I actually wrote it long ago, just never felt right on the other albums, but I um … I revisited it after that night. After meeting Rory for the first time.”

“Oh.”

“Turns out I’ve wanted to be with you for years. Knowing that you had a child with Richard made me so envious – he got to be a part of your life in a way that I thought I’d never get a chance to. I didn’t wanna just be in your orbit anymore, I wanna be with you.”

“You’re with me now. You’re here.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I know Keep Driving is definitely not about me and frankly, I’m glad. You need to keep that shit to yourself from now on.”

“So … you don’t want me singing about how satisfied I make you?” he asks in jest.

“If you plan on making me listen to you sing about us having sex next to your mum and sister, we will never have sex .” When he starts to chuckle, she threatens again, “I’m being serious. I’ve gone over a year without having sex, and I can go longer.”

“That’s because you were having sex with small dick Richard. When I get to love on you the way I want to, you’ll want to let everyone know how good I make you feel.”

“You’re talking big game Mr. Watermelon Sugar.”

Harry pinches her chin to tip her head up. With his lips about an inch from hers, his says in a low voice, “And I plan on delivering.”

He seals his promise by slotting their lips together for what feels like the thousandth time that evening.

After Charlie falls asleep in his arms, Harry forces his eyes to stay open so that he can maximise his time with his best girls. When he can’t fight sleep any longer, his mutters one last ‘I love you’ and drifts off knowing that he’ll get to spend time with his favourite family again the next morning.

“Good evening Manchester!” Harry shouts into the microphone. The roar of the crowd widens the grin on his face. “Thank you for choosing to spend your evening with us. I promise that this is going to be a very, very special show.”

He slowly makes his way onto the runway.

“I always love playing shows here because this is basically a hometown show for me. And I don’t know if you guys feel it, but I feel like there is something in the air tonight. Something quite magical.”

The crowd erupts once again.

It’s probably not good practice to talk up one venue too much, that’s why most artists have a pretty standard spiel for every night, but he can’t help himself tonight. Even if he didn’t say it, everyone in the stadium could probably feel it. There is more pep in his step and the adrenaline rushing through his veins has never been this aggressive.

“Manchester, I have a special request for all of you.” He puts a finger to his lips as if he is a shushing the audience. “There are some important audience members amongst you today. So, I need all of you to go extra crazy and have an extra good time, because I’ve got some people to impress. Can you do that for me?

“This next song is for my best friend.”

Harry gets swallowed by screams as the intro to Late Night Talking starts to play.

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hstourupdates harry on stage in manchester tonight during late night talking

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harryfan1 wait who did he say that to?

harryfan2 i think he was talking to anne and gemma because he did that in their direction

↳ stylesontour there was another woman with a baby standing with them

↳ directioner1 it was his best friend charlie with them and harry was photographed with her daughter a while ago

↳ stylesfan1 wait what if he was pointing to charlie's baby because he kept looking at them and doing little waves 😩

harryfan3 to be harry's best friend 😭

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anerdinallherglory · 2 years ago

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Approaching Sun (32)

Author’s Note: Dear readers, I am terribly sorry for how delayed this chapter has been. If you follow me on social media or have read my other Tumblr posts, I have explained my situation briefly, but will explain again here. My baby was born with Laryngomalacia and my life has become a crazy rollercoaster ride of doctor’s visits and sleepless nights. I couldn’t return to my job because of his health issue and had to give up the only job I’ve ever wanted. The last two years of my life has been dedicated to getting my Masters for this job, and just like that, it’s no longer mine. This has been a hard season for me, but I am thankful for my sweet baby and the time I get to be with him. In short, I will be a stay at home Mom until his health issue has resolved, so I am hoping to get an opportunity to write more. However, he is a pretty high-maintenance baby who only sleeps for 10 minutes at a time, so finding the extra time has been difficult. This chapter took an entire month worth of naps, even though it is shorter than my other chapters (sorry, but I have to submit as much as I can get done, and I’m sure you all want something instead of waiting longer). In addition, I am also hoping to use some of this time writing my own book, BTHG, which I hope to publish one day. Again, I want to thank you all so much for your dedication to this story and for continuing to support it through all seasons of these last several years. Let me know your thoughts about this chapter! Stay happy, stay healthy readers. Until next time.

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31

Chapter 32: An Approaching Sun

In the moment that Sakura had asked him directly in the desert: “Is it enough for you?” Sasuke had known his answer in his heart. And when she turned away from him in the presence of Kankuro after their return hours earlier, the sight of her angry back made Sasuke realize it was the first time that he had ever seen it. Sasuke had practically begged for that confession, pleading for her to tell him how they could be together so he could justify the choice he had already made some time ago, justify choosing this despite all his many worries. Those words sung to his heart and caressed his concerns lovingly. He still gave her an out, asking “Is all of that true?” and when she said “yes,” it was Sasuke’s final unraveling. Th be at “yes” was the final reassurance that his stubbornness needed before he took hold of her chin.

Unlike the kiss of his dream in the desert, Sasuke was careful—so careful when placing his mouth on hers. His fingers held her chin firmly while he took time to unite their mouths. As he did so, he braced himself despite his nerves and deepened the kiss. Sakura responded carefully as well, and Sasuke lifted his hand to touch her cheek in reassurance. To say, I want this. I’ve wanted this. But his fingers brushed wetness and Sasuke instantly broke away, startled at the tears he found running down Sakura’s face.

He searched her eyes with worry, immediately apologizing. “Sorry—”

“No,” she smiled, grabbing hold of his receding face with her fingertips, and whispering, “—just happy.” Sasuke wanted to sigh in relief because those tears had always been a sign that he had hurt her, but this time she was happy. She brought his mouth back to hers, not wanting it to be over, and Sasuke let her lead for just a moment. He forced himself to pull back despite the fire rising in his stomach.

“Maybe we should discuss—” he began, anxiety creeping into his heart about what she was thinking, but Sakura’s brightly lit face, that growing smile that spread to her eyes, stopped him.

The laugh that came from Sakura sounded so sweet that Sasuke couldn’t help but blushing. “You want to talk?” And she was right, Sasuke was a terrible talker. But when it came to this choice, he wanted to make sure they were on the same page—would be on the same page always. Sasuke and Sakura both knew Sakura would be making a lot of sacrifices by accepting this relationship between them. The least he could do was attempt to communicate his concerns, clarify their steps, ask questions and more. He couldn’t afford to be reckless, not with her.

“Sasuke,” Sakura whispered, leaning forward into him. He stiffened instinctually at her nearness but softened when her arms wound softly around his neck in a tearful hug. He accepted the embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered again, “for giving us a chance. I promise I’ll do everything to make you happy.”

He buried his face into her shoulder, his heart simultaneously full and broken by those familiar words. And for a moment, Sasuke forgot all his previous reasons and wondered why he had waited all of this time. If he had only held her sooner. “Thank you,” he repeated, as she pulled back to look at him “for everything.”

Sasuke decided not to waste any more time or words. They would find time to talk about this later. And for a second time, they came together hesitantly, each finding one another’s lips with their own in the growing darkness of a moonless night. Sasuke didn’t retreat again when she whispered his name against his own mouth. Just as much as he wanted to convince Sakura that he meant this, he also wanted to convince himself that this wasn’t a reckless mistake he was making. Brazenly, even foolishly, he wanted to commit to it.

And then a knock came at the door. And they both practically flew away from each other to opposite sides of the room.

A smooth and uncomfortably familiar voice had both ninja blushing. “Just letting the two of you know that me…and Naruto… will arrive first thing in the morning. The Kazekage requested a meeting a couple days ago and we were supposed to be there tonight, but as always, I will most likely be late. Thought it would be proper to give you two a heads up.”

There was an audible poof as the clone of their former sensei evaporated just beyond the door.

Sakura raised her hand to cover her mouth, touch her lips, and gasp. Sasuke blushed and turned his back to her, contorting all emotions back into his controlled mask, embarrassed not only to be caught in such an act, but to have allowed them to be snuck up on by that old pervert of a ninja. And another thing, Kakashi hadn’t even made the slightest effort in disguising his intentional warning. Even Sakura knew it. How did Kakashi guess that such a thing might be occurring between them if Sasuke, himself, hadn’t planned for it to happen until just moments ago?

“How is he late,” Sakura started to grin sheepishly, “if his clone made it here at the designated time?”

Sasuke quickly glanced around at their location, noting the clothes on the floor, the shared room, themselvesacting appropriately guilty. Sasuke didn’t state the obvious: The Sixth Hokage was stalling for them so they could do some rearranging. To keep Naruto in the dark for now.

Sasuke walked quickly to the door, opened it, and scanned down the deserted hallway. There was nobody there. The Uchiha contemplated his next move. Should he leave? Go into Kaguya’s dimensions and wait until tomorrow? Perhaps he should meet the Hokage and Naruto halfway, that way he and Sakura weren’t seen together. Or should he toss all concern to the wind and just tell Naruto the truth? His former teammate had as much said they should be together, right? He had wished Sasuke that happiness verbally several weeks ago. Then why was this such a big deal?

Two soft hands rested on the top of Sasuke’s shoulders. “You’re overthinking this, aren’t you?” Sakura asked, leading Sasuke back away from the door and towards his bed. “We are what we have always been, Sasuke. Friends on a mission together.”

Sasuke scoffed at her lack of worry about Naruto—and through Naruto—the whole Leaf Village finding out about this.

He sat as she pressed down the front of his shoulders, gesturing for him to relax. “You’re not going anywhere tonight, so there’s no use in worrying. Focus on resting and regaining your strength.”

“Sakura—”

“Rest,” she shook her head. “Doctor’s orders.”

She retreated to her own sleeping spot without another word, settling down to rest. But Sasuke was certain she spent the rest of her night thinking about them, about the kissing and confessions, just as he did.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura had indeed spent the majority of the night in typical giddy fashion, replaying every second that she had only ever held in her desperate dreams. It had finally happened: them. Sasuke had chosen them. Sakura wasn’t foolish enough to allow her fantasies to run away with the images of a home that they shared, a family that they raised, the friends that surrounded them as they grew old together. Sakura knew exactly what would come as a result of their choice: a lonely and longing road. And Sakura was okay with that road because it was Sasuke and the world needed him. With her back to the Uchiha across the room, she touched her lips once more and felt the smile beneath her fingers. Eventually, she focused her chakra on her heart rate and induced her own slumber.

A few hours before sunrise, Sakura’s internal clock awakened her. She was far too conditioned by the relentless routine of the hospital back in Konoha to trick her body into sleeping longer, even after it still bore the extra lethargy of yesterday’s events. Her left hand was still stiff and sore from the damage to her tissue, and she instinctively channeled her chakra to it, keeping a consistent stream traveling to the limb until it healed completely. Sakura was relieved that she had this healing ability because the type of destruction done to her skin would be irreversible for others. As she readied herself, wrapping the hand delicately in thick bandage, she snuck a shy glimpse over in the sleeping Uchiha’s direction.

Sasuke slept soundly, a possibility that she thought would not likely happen due to his constant tossing and turning of wakefulness. At least one of them was now getting some decent sleep. It was still too early to wake him, but Sakura had been reprimanded more than once now for taking advantage of his sleep to pursue other matters. Retrieving a small blank scroll from one of the many shelves in the room, Sakura wrote the sign for “hospital” on the inner flap. She placed it visibly on her bed before quietly slipping from the room. He needed rest, and she wasn’t going to wake him.

When she arrived at the hospital, all of her overnight patients were still fast asleep. A blurry eyed medic greeted her warmly, expressing thankfulness for Sakura’s safety as well as her shock about Hisa and Mako. Sakura exchanged pleasantries, not too keen to talk about the topic of either of those two traitors. Her mind wandered to someone else, a child she desperately wanted to see.

When Sakura reached Isao’s mental health ward, she gently peeked through the crack. To her surprise, Isao was wide awake, sitting cross-legged in the dark of his room. “Miss Haruno?!” he whispered loudly, immediately recognizing her.

“Isao,” Sakura questioned as she stepped through the door, “Did your night terrors keep you from sleeping again? Did you not take your medicine?”

But the child didn’t answer her. Instead, he bolted off the bed and grabbed her around the waist. He cried into her stomach, sobs shaking his injured body. “I thought you might be dead!” he whimpered, “I thought you were gone…like her, like my mom.”

Sakura fell to her knees and embraced the child carefully, cursing herself for not checking in on him sooner despite Kankuro’s assurances. With her trained medical eye, Sakura immediately noticed the thick bandages that encompassed his ribs. She didn’t realize that Sasuke was the only one she needed to reassure about her position in the world. “You don’t have to worry about me, Isao. Nothing can take me away from this life. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?” he wailed, his voice muffled in the space between Sakura’s shoulder and neck.

“Yes,” she assured, holding him out at arm’s length to assess him more carefully. Besides a wound to his arm and a broken rib or two, it seemed he was going to be all right. “You should be proud of yourself,” Sakura lifted his chin. “You fought by my side. You made it back. You did it with injuries, too. I think you have what it takes to be a great ninja.”

“Really?” he asked, wiping the streams of liquid from his eyes.

“Yes,” she assured him. “And I have great news.”

He smiled up at her in excited anticipation. “What news?”

“My friends are on their way. They’ll escort you back to the Leaf Village.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After Sakura rewrote the two letters addressed to the Kazekage and Hokage that Mako had confiscated after drugging her, Sakura made her way towards the Kazekage’s central tower. The sun began to rise in the east, mixing with the night to create that beautiful ombre sunrise of orange-blue-pink that belonged to this desert. In her current state of high spirits, Sakura thought that maybe the sun had gotten closer, warming the day and her skin like the sunrays after a long and laborious winter. But she knew it wasn’t really the sun approaching closer and closer every day, but instead, it was a person who had finally reached the season of spring in his life and opened his heart to a summer. Sakura beamed and took a moment to appreciate this monumental sunrise.

“SAKURA-CHAN!”

It was also special because it was the sunrise that would accompany the rest of Team 7’s arrival.

Sakura turned to see the orange and black-clad figure of that heartwarming voice barreling towards her, a grin that occupied half of his face, and a hand that waved back and forth. He ran and ran until he was just before her, leaning forward over his knees. Sakura had developed a habit of hugging her blond friend recently, and she didn’t hesitate to do so again this time, squeezing him so tightly that her blond shinobi’s face turned blue from her super-human strength of a hug.

“I’m—so glad—to see that—you’re safe! Can’t—breathe, Sakura…” Naruto choked out.

Sakura couldn’t help herself. Pinpricks of tears accompanied her smile. She had loved her time traveling with Sasuke, but apart from Sasuke, Naruto was one of the only people in this world that made her feel like home away from home, and she had missed him. And then Kakashi was there, raising his own familiar “yo” hand sign, dragging along an equally disinterested Shikamaru, whose attitude was the complete opposite than it was when Tamari usually led him through the adobe buildings of Suna.

After releasing Naruto, Kakashi was there placing a compassionate hand on her shoulder, a gesture that he used to do regularly when she was a Genin. “I’m proud of you.”

And those words meant the entire world.

“Gaara!” Naruto yelled to the person who had come up behind her. “Long time no see!”

And the warm expression that the Kazekage returned to his friend from another village, revealed to Sakura that Naruto was that person for others, too.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Kakashi had had a rather amusing night, devising a plan to keep both Shikamaru and Naruto delayed in their journey. All it took was a stall in the form of a competition, which was really simple to do actually. Kakashi had jokingly remarked that out of the three of them, he could outsleep both lazy ninja because he, of course, was the Hokage and the laziest among the three. The rules were simple: During their hour break of rest, Kakashi would summon a clone to supervise them while they rested, monitoring who would naturally wake up first. Naruto yelled “you’re on!” and ran 10 miles at his highest speed to tire himself out enough that he would sleep soundly through the hour. Whether or not Shikamaru was smart enough to see through Kakashi’s plan, he didn’t argue, lounging backward in the sand on the border of the Country of Wind, and crossing an arm lazily over his eyes. If Kakashi had a large sum of money, he would make a bet here and now that Shikamaru would win this.

After his two counterparts were open mouthed, and drool bubbling, Kakashi sent away his clone with a head nod. It disappeared into the setting sun toward the Sand Village. Then Kakashi waited, enjoying a night of stars while reading his beloved Icha Icha Paradise by firelight. This was more like it, he thought to himself, glad to be unburdened by the demanding lifestyle of the Hokage.

When Gaara had requested a meeting via carrier bird, Kakashi’s brow had furrowed at first to learn about Sakura’s situation, along with the enemy she and Sasuke had encountered on their journey. The Kazekage requested that he or someone close to him report to Sunagakure. And then Kakashi had pinched his chin in careful thought as he admired the surmounting pile of paperwork on his desk.

“Want to go on a trip?” he had asked Shikamaru, who nodded off at his position.

“Not really,” Shikamaru responded disinterestedly.

Kakashi baited, “I guess I could take Naruto with me to meet with the Kazekage, instead.”

“The Kazekage?” he probed, “A trip to Sunagakure?”

“Yes,” he stretched, unfurling the scroll he received from Gaara, so that Shikamaru could take a better look from afar. “It seems there are some foreign shinobi causing problems for Sakura.”

“Hmmm…” Shikamaru pondered, coming to read the offered scroll over Kakashi’s shoulder. “It’ll be a drag, but I guess I can go. Don’t want anything to happen to Sakura.”

Mhm, Kakashi thought to himself. Because of Sakura. That wasn’t the kunoichi on Shikamaru’s mind. Kakashi realized suddenly that he was too involved in all the lives of this young generation. How did he always find himself knowing too much?

“Then it’s settled,” Kakashi nodded, snapping the scroll back into it’s rolled-up position.

And then the door of his office was practically kicked through. “I’m still going,” Naruto announced, startling both Kakashi and Shikamaru as he announced his obvious eavesdropping.

“If Sakura is in danger, then I’d better be there.”

And that’s how Kakashi ended up with two knuckleheads on a week vacation to the Sand Village. And then Kakashi’s logical next thought had been of the other two members of Team 7. He had been ecstatic when he learned that Sakura had temporarily accompanied the Uchiha on his life-long mission and that Sasuke had let her. Years of reading Makeout Tactics informed Kakashi of what was to become between the pair, a natural progression of suppressed feelings over the course of many years. Most of the time, there was only one outcome if a male and female shinobi embarked on a long journey together. Sending the clone was a precaution, just in case his suspicions were correct, and their unexpected drop-in might cause a stir.

But Kakashi had never expected to walk in on that…When the clone disappeared and the events that his clone just witnessed dropped into his memory, Kakashi laughed quietly to himself under the stars. He grinned up at those same luminaries for a moment, grateful that both of his ninja pupils had finally navigated their way to one another through the murk of life and had decided to take on that life together. Sasuke had finally, finally let her in, and the knowledge felt like the Uchiha had come home again.

Well done, Sakura. Naruto may have brought him home, but what you have done, is shown him a path to his own special happiness.

The Sixth Hokage had lounged back into the grass, placing his open book over his eyes. He didn’t wake Shikamaru and Naruto, when the hour expired, after all. And to his surprise, when the other two ninja woke him the next morning, Kakashi had won the competition.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sasuke stepped out of his portal just in front of the Kazekage’s building, anticipating the cringey reception he would receive from Kakashi and Naruto once he reached Gaara’s office. He took his time climbing the steps. When he entered the room, the Uchiha quietly leaned back against the far wall to avoid interrupting the conversation that was already occurring.

“Essentially, we are asking for the Leaf’s cooperation with us as we search Tanigakure for the enemy’s whereabouts,” The Kazekage announced from behind his desk. “It is a territory between our villages, and it would be best if both village personnel were present during searches, so it seems more diplomatic to the citizens of Tanigakure.”

The white-haired ninja nodded, Naruto voicing his sensei’s unspoken response. “Of course, The Leaf will work with you Gaara. Isn’t that right Kakashi-sensei?!”

Kakashi pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “Can’t you at least call me ‘Lord Hokage’ when we are on official business?”

Naruto ignored him and announced. “If they’re going after Sakura, then of course we will help. I’ll go find them myself!”

Sasuke shook his head in withdrawn amusement at his teammate’s old habits of needing to be the center of attention in literally every setting. Sasuke’s eyes also found Sakura, who stood at the front of the party, tapping her foot impatiently. She clutched two letters to her chest and Sasuke sensed that she was waiting for an opportunity to interject, little to no concern about this topic. Sasuke smirked. She couldn’t care less about some target on her back by shinobi that belonged to the same group she had already gone head-to-head with.

“If they can’t be found,” a spikey ponytailed ninja remarked, and Sasuke quickly identified his childhood classmate, Shikamaru. “Then wouldn’t it be better to draw them out? They are after Sakura after all. We could just wait for them to strike again.”

Sasuke frowned. He didn’t like that idea. Shikamaru had never been one of Sasuke’s favorites, and the Uchiha liked him considerably less whenever he made suggestions about using his friends as bait. Genius he may be, but Sasuke didn’t have to like him or his ideas.

“I’m sure we can think of something…” Kakashi thought out loud, drawing the eyes of the room in his direction.

“While you’re thinking about it,” Sakura finally spoke, handing both Kakashi and Gaara each one of the letters she held. “I would like to request both of your considerations regarding a matter concerning a young boy here in Sunagakure. He’s been through a lot, and he expresses interest toward starting anew in the Leaf Village.”

Kakashi and Gaara both surveyed the letters in their hands, and Sasuke could see even from where he stood that the reports were extensively detailed. Once again, Sasuke found himself admiring his teammate’s professional persona who seemed like a different person altogether.

“He has expressed the desire to train as a shinobi, but I also want him to continue treatment at the Children’s health clinic in Konoha. I am requesting that he be released by Sunagakure into Konoha’s care until the child decides he’s ready to return.”

“I’ll talk with my council, but I approve as long as the Leaf is willing,” Gaara agreed, glancing over at Kakashi to assess his reaction.

“Of course, that’s okay,” said Kakashi, beaming over at Sakura. “However, some people in the Leaf might harbor negative sentiments toward the youth for various, equally ridiculous reasons. He might be accused of things like being a spy, might be shunned, and more. Can he handle situations like this?”

Sasuke watched Sakura carefully weigh Kakashi’s words. There was a shadow of worry that crossed her face for just a second and then Naruto was elbowing her. “I’ll keep an eye on him!”

“How can you be in Tanigakure looking for Sakura’s aggressors and be in Konoha to…” Shikamaru began but then trailed off as he held everyone’s dumbfounded gazes, “…never mind. I’m not on my game today. I’m obviously overworked.” They all let out a laugh because everyone knew exactly how Naruto would do it with his infamous shadow clone jutsu.

“I’m certain Isao will be okay, but any time you can spare him, would be great, Naruto. Being around you would do him some good,” Sakura said and everyone around the room nodded in agreement. Even Sasuke agreed silently to himself in the back. Being around Naruto had changed each and every person in this room, including himself.

“He can travel back with us when we leave,” Kakashi announced, and Sakura grinned in success.

Gaara quickly changed the topic back to the most pressing matter at hand. “We have Sakura’s assailants in custody. I’d like all your personal evaluations of them as shinobi.”

Everyone in the room nodded, and the Kazekage turned to Kankuro. “Take them to the prison. Sakura, if you don’t mind, I’d like to discuss something with you in more detail.” Sasuke’s ears pricked at the mention of her staying behind. But his rational self reasoned that it was likely just to talk about the events of yesterday.

“Uchiha can further explain who they are while Sakura and I finish up, right Sasuke?” Gaara asked toward Sasuke’s direction without even looking up from the paperwork on his desk, both revealing Sasuke’s presence to his fellow Leaf-shinobi and volunteering him to work. Annoying sand guy.

Of course, they all spun at the mention of his name, locating him against the far wall. He didn’t wave or smile, but just crossed his arms in typical Uchiha fashion.

While Naruto was practically leaping toward him, shouting “There you are Sasuke!” Sasuke couldn’t help but catch Sakura’s eye and the Uchiha stiffened at the obvious embarrassment that flashed across her face for the briefest of seconds before she shyly looked away. And even when his loser of a best friend was wrapping his arm around Sasuke’s neck in an annoying way of showing affection, Sasuke didn’t miss the fact that Kakashi also noticed Sakura’s display, and Sasuke caught his sensei’s knowing expression as the Hokage looked back and forth between the two with one smiling eye. Sasuke sighed. They were screwed.

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