#I still got fruit tarts though and ate both and felt better but now I have no tarts but thats ok because there's always next time :D

[prijune]

Fruit Tart~ 🍓🥝

#prijune art #traditional art #there's this German bakery that my Ma introduced me to and their fruit tarts are soooooo good! #the bakery owner recognizes us because Ma calls to ask if they have fruit tarts cause it's pretty far from home #even though it's way closer than the other bakery we go to #why everything so far I'd totally visit every day or week if I could walk there😭 #anyways she recognizes us and I'm cry cause she looks forward to seeing us and I do too #but I had a migraine and couldn't go visit yesterday AAAAAAAAAAAA #I still got fruit tarts though and ate both and felt better but now I have no tarts but thats ok because there's always next time :D #maybe I'll gift this to the owner when I go visit I know my Ma took a pic of the unfinished work to show her the next time she sees her #I'll decide later I gotta rest my back hurty #fruit tart #dessert

[bruh-haikyuu]

A miya osamu scenario where he’s having a quality time together with fem s/o in a quiet little coffee shop 💕💕💕 Thaaaaanks

A/N: miya osamu. your hand in marriage. now. ALSO SPOILERS IF YOU HAVENT READ UP TO CHAPTER 378 OF THE MANGA.

apricate. | miya osamu

word count: 2040

warnings: MANGA SPOILERS, slight hints of sexual content

(v.) to bask in the sun

The silver band wrapped around your left ring finger glittered warmly at the amber beam of light streaming from the tiny shop’s window. From behind the mosaic counter adorning the back of the cafe, the aroma of caffeine and freshly baked fruit tarts poured between the tables in the room. At this hour of the day, the establishment was unusually quiet, but you weren’t exactly complaining about that—

“Osamu, I wanna go home.”

You were almost apologetic that your husband was into his third sigh of the day. At some point of time, you would be the reason behind his slowly settling wrinkles. “Y/N, it’s only been 5 minutes since we’ve sat down.”

It wasn’t like he could blame you for it. You weren’t just upset, you were distressed. A parent to three rambunctious children, and you had left them with the family shop on their own. Though it was only for the day—and seeing that they had demanded that the both of you “go and enjoy your day off”—you didn’t get much of a wink of leisure.

“A-Are you sure it’s alright to leave Setsuko to take care of her younger siblings?” you rattled, a soft image of your precious ten-year old daughter forming in your head. “Oooh… what if Eiji causes her too much trouble and insists that he keeps workin’ instead of eatin’ ? And ‘Samu, did you remember to tell her where Kaori’s diapers are kept? M-maybe, I should call her just to check…”

As you unclasped your purse to look for your cell phone, your face paled at its obvious absence from where it should’ve been. When you looked up to meet Osamu’s lax face, his expression had said it all.

Raising your “missing” phone in his hand, he crossed his arms and shot you a smirk that said: I took precautions.

“Y’know, if Secchan’s been pesterin’ us to get out of the house for so long, she knows exactly what you’d do to her if we came back to the house up in flames. Plus, Eiji and I had a talk the other day about over-workin’ himself, so rest assured, he ain’t going to be doing that for a loooong, long time… And yes. I did tell Setsuko that Kao-chan’s nappies are on the bottom drawer of her room. ‘S all good. Anything else, Miya Y/N-san?”

Now it was your turn to sigh. “They’re my children, ‘Samu. Can’t help it.”

“Hey, I’m also a part of the family. Why ain’t I stuck on your mind all the time too, huh?” he said gruffly, a tone reserved to cheer you up whenever you needed it.

That’s right, you could never help it. They were your babies, the angels that were growing up too fast for your liking. It felt like it was just yesterday that your firstborn Setsuko, now at a double-digit age, was curled in your arms. Practically attached at your hip 24/7. The moment she’d bashfully asked you to stop plaiting her hair for her, you swore you could hear your heart shatter.

Moreover, it didn’t help that eight-year old Eiji (despite still being pegged as a “Mama’s boy”) was becoming more and more of a carbon copy of his father—too hard-working, but too oblivious. You weren’t one to scold your children about their grades, but with Eiji’s frightful progress at school, the lingering thought of your son saying that he’d consider dropping out of school to “be an adult” so Osamu would let him work full-time at the shop hindered you from any good night’s sleep.

But Kaori… Oh, your darling treasure Miya Kaori. Just a year old, fresh from your womb. Like so, “Kao-chan” was the apple of your older children’s eyes and the jewel of her father’s heart. The lone salvation of your livelihood was her innocent youth and you were desperately begging the gods to keep it that way. As soon as Kaori would start tying her own shoelaces and everything, you were sure you were going to turn into stone.

Your knees bumping under the picturesque, wrought iron table, Osamu gave you an endearing smile. “Relax. We have Fuji-san to keep an eye on ‘em in the shop, right? That guy’s got more nerves than his own body. If we’re worried about anythin’, it’s that the kids would get bored with him telling them to sit still.”

Your mind drifted to the thought of the young but unusually high-strung college student who’d been working part-time at the onigiri shop for two years. Osamu did make a point though. The bespectacled Fujiwara Chiaki was probably more dedicated to working than your own husband—a trait that he had likely passed on to your only son Eiji. The idea was concerning, but not to the extent where your head throbbed from it.

“They say if you think too much, you’ll grow old faster,” Osamu poked teasingly, while pushing a plate of a fragrant confectionary towards you. “You didn’t even notice that I’d brought back your favorite cheesecake.”

At the mention of the dessert, your eyes shot downwards to the platter. It looked just as sweet and luscious as it always did. From the first time you had it in high school as a “thank-you gift” from Osamu for helping him study for his exams, down to your wedding party where your friends had surprised you with an entire tower of it. You were sure Osamu would’ve been sick of tasting the velvety cream for 20 years and counting, but there was another suspicion you had that he’d feel gratified whenever he got it for you.

Holding out a forkful of cake, he said smugly at your twinkling gaze. “Open sesame, Y/N-chan.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second. When was the last time you got to enjoy yourself without any sniffles or pleading demands from your children? They’d inherited you and their father’s affinity for eating after all; a meal would never go untouched when it came to the Miya household. And if you’d brought this cake home, you know they’d bulldoze it down before you could grab a slice for yourself.

“So good…” you murmured, savoring the lightness of the dessert. Tangy and tethering on the border of being sweet and too sweet, this was indefinitely your next favorite thing after your family.

Osamu chuckled as you ate, tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ear. “Ain’t this getting too sugary for you? Y’know, I only gave you this the first time because I’d felt my teeth would fall out if I ate a bite of it.”

“You practically bribed me with it so I’d date you. If you think about it, you used this to bribe me into a lot of things!” your pout did not mask your amusement at all.

“Like how I used this so you’d finally catch a break from coddlin’ Secchan and have a better ‘time’ with your lovin’ husband? I’d say that it was a profitable compromise, my dear.”

You scoffed. “Profitable until you learn that having a second child was harder that you’d thought. How’d it feel tryin’ to feed Eiji the first time, huh?”

“It was a coincidence that Eiji just had to be a picky child growing up,” he shrugged. “Should I point out that you made it harder with spoilin’ him rotten, Mama Miya?”

You gave him your best, dramatized expression of offense. Oh, two could play this game. “Excuse you, Papa Miya. But who was the one who bought Setsuko an entire 50,000 yen-pretend kitchen as soon as she gave them one small tug on the sleeve?”

“C’mon, Y/N, you knew if I could afford it I’d buy it for her, no questions asked! The face she pulled when we brought it home could add ten years to my lifespan. There’s no way I would want to miss it,” his cheeks flared a vivid crimson. Hiding a snicker, you wondered how long it had been since you’d last seen that look on him.

“Miya Setsuko, the heiress of Onigiri Miya, already interested in the way of the stove at four years old! I couldn’t believe it. Ain’t she pretty darn cute in that apron we got in the set? Nah… that’s probably because Secchan’s pretty darn cute herself…” He was rambling now, eyes glossed over at the image of his daughter. Six years ago, she’d happily hopped into his lap when he’d finished tying up the frilly, daffodil-yellow apron, and gave him a hug that nearly pushed him to tears. Oh, how you wished you were there to see it.

“Osamu… Your gap moe* is showin’.”

“Oh, hush!” he spat, averting his gaze from yours as your leaned back on your chair, nearly doubling over in laughter. Though part of his face was covered by the large, ornate coffee mug, you knew he was smiling through and through.

The soft tinkling of the fake crystal chandeliers in your wake, your insides felt tingly in a way you haven’t felt for so long. What felt like hours, you spent talking with your husband about your little family, the shop, his brother (though this was quickly interrupted by another conversation about what Kaori’s first word would be), and all the things you’d never had the time to talk about since you were both so busy. It was just like high school all over again, only less melodramatic and more… wrinkly. But just as colorful as it always had been.

However, when Osamu fell silent, you knew something had gone terribly wrong. Setting down your fork, you leaned over the small table to observe his wallowing features.

“Osamu, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

As if he was being forced to shove an entire rock down his throat, he whispered, “… I miss ‘em.”

You stared at him, then did a double take. “S-sorry, say that again? Didn’t hear you.”

With reddened cheeks, he repeated himself anyway. “ I miss ‘em! All this talk about the kids… I know it’s only been a couple of hours but I miss Secchan already! M-my baby. My princess. Y-you know what it’s like, right, Y/N?”

You felt like a colossal force had lifted from your back. Grabbing your husband’s shoulders from across the table, you shook him while exclaiming, “Me too! I miss ‘em too! God, the entire time I was wishing I was feedin’ this cake to Eiji instead of myself. The way his cheeks puff up when he chews something… I have to see it…! And especially—”

“Kao-chan.”

“Kaori.”

And just as the planets aligned, your cell phone that had been sitting in Osamu’s coat the entire time rang. Taking it out of his pocket, he showed you the screen, displaying the name of the caller. Fujiwara Chiaki.

With your husband pressed close to your side, both cramped on one dainty seat of the cafe’s chair, you listened closely to the other side of the phone. “Hello? Fujiwara-kun?”

Chiaki’s meek but strangely jovial voice responded through the speakers. “Ah, Y/N-san, you picked up. The children wanted to speak with you about something. I think you’ll like this—”

“Chiakiii! You’re takin’ too long on the phone~ Hi, Mama! Can Papa hear me too?!”

Looking at your husband, you exchanged a smile. Eiji. Leaning his head on your shoulder, he cooed at your son. “I’m right here, Eiji.”

“Great! Because we have some ultra, big, super, important news to tell you—!”

A pop, a crackle and Eiji’s exuberant voice turned into Setsuko’s huffy, light one. “Eiji, Mama and Papa put me in charge so I’m gonna tell ‘em! …Mama, Mama, Mama, you won’t believe what happened!”

“Oh? What happened, Setsuko?” you giggled, heart softening at the lilt of your daughter’s voice.

“Kao-chan said her first word today!”

Literally swiping the phone from your grasps, Osamu, practically gleaming from the announcement, excitedly quivered as he spoke. “R-really? She did that, Secchan? What did she say? Was it ‘Papa’ or ‘Mama’?”

“Hmm… I think it was—”

“Second thought, don’t tell us. I want to see and hear it for myself.”

That was your cue. Unravelling your right arm into the air, you shot the waitress your biggest smile. “Check, please!”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

gap moe - when someone does something that is the complete opposite of their habits

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu imagine #miya osamu scenario #inarizaki x reader #sfw #osamu x reader #bruh haikyuu writing

[karasuno-chaos]

In His Orbit (Nishinoya x Reader)

On a lovely day in Nice, France, you reflect on the past few months and the many reasons you love your boyfriend.

I came sooo close to putting Noya in a flower crown for this.  Maybe next time.😆  -Giz

Word Count: 1,974

The market was busy, though it was still early in the morning.  Vendors were rearranging pallets into shoppable displays, piling produce into cascades of color, already calling to each other and the few early shoppers who, like you, were wandering between the stalls.  You loved the energy here.  Even though they had a long day ahead, everyone was buzzing with caffeine and adrenaline.

A year ago, you never would have guessed that you’d be in Nice, France at the famous Cours Saleya market.  You’d always thought you weren’t impulsive enough to travel the world with nothing but adventure to guide you.  It sounded unpredictable and impossible.  But you’d fallen in love with a wanderer whose thirst for excitement had pulled you across the world, and you’d never been happier.

You purchased a small container of raspberries and ate a few while you wandered between the stalls.  The fruit season would be ending soon, but the berries were still deliciously tart.  You took note of certain goods to come back for later before ducking out of the market to a side street.  You’d noticed a little cafe during your first passage through the stalls, and you were craving some caffeine.

A few minutes later you returned to the market balancing two drinks and the raspberries.  You could already tell there were more people, even though the crowds were nowhere near what they would be during peak hours that afternoon.  The Cours Saleya was rather touristy, but in many ways, you were a tourist yourself.  You’d been helping on a flower farm just west of the city for only two weeks, so much of the city was new.  You were excited to explore this corner of the world.

You managed to make it to the other end of the market without dropping anything.  You loved this part of the Cours Saleya.  While the food vendors were enticing, the truly unique magic of the market was the flower sellers.  The buckets and bundles of colorful blooms brought the charm of country fields into the city.  Their simple beauty was something you had come to view as quintessentially French, and the dazzling variety of colors and aromas meant there was always more to see.

You headed to the stall with the rustic orange buckets.  A kaleidoscope of blooms burst from the displays, barely contained by the careful arrangements of the vendors.  They’d almost finished setting up, so you didn’t feel too guilty for ditching them to scope out the market.  You’d put in your time to help as customers came, assembling bouquets and refilling the displays as needed.  Even though you barely knew any French, the languages of commerce and flowers were easy enough to translate.

“Y/N’s back!” one of the men at the stall announced.  Rin and his wife Chizuru had moved to France five years ago after falling in love with the French way of life.  Both had grown up in Hyogo on farms, so buying up a flower farm outside of Nice had been a natural transition for them.  You’d met last month in Spain while they were on vacation and you and your boyfriend were working at a futbol stadium.  You’d hit it off right away, and when they’d invited you to their farm, you’d readily accepted.

“Need a hand with anything?” you asked.

“Nah, we’re pretty much set.  Nishinoya’s just grabbing the last of the daisies.”

As if summoned by his name, your boyfriend appeared carrying a bucket bursting with daisies.  He set it down in line with the other flowers as though it weighed nothing, though you knew firsthand how heavy the buckets were when full.  He adjusted the blooms a bit so they looked welcoming to customers, stepping back to cast a critical eye over the display as a whole before giving a satisfied nod.  Only then did he turn his attention away and notice that you were back.

“Find anything good?” he asked, face breaking into a smile like sunshine.

“I’ve got coffee and raspberries.”  You handed him the drink you’d ordered for him, and he took it along with a handful of berries.

“Thanks babe.”  He kissed your cheek in appreciation before popping a raspberry into his mouth.

“The stall looks really good.  I think we might be the only vendor with so many lilies left.”

“The greenhouses were worth the investment,” Chizuru agreed, arriving with the cash box and little folding table that you’d keep out of reach of customers, “though the crop this year has been great in general.”

“All right!” Nishinoya cheered.  “We’re going to sell a ton of flowers today!”

You smiled as your boyfriend got psyched up.  His energy was infectious, and his dedication to the task at hand never ceased to inspire you.  It was just one of the many things you loved about him.

You barely had time to finish your coffee before a steady stream of customers was keeping all of you busy.  Many simply admired the blooms as they passed, but you knew that quite a few would come back later after perusing the rest of the market.  After all, why come to the Cours Saleya if not for the flowers?

The weather was nice, and the crowd steadily grew as you headed towards the afternoon.  You were grateful for the caffeine and reinforcements as other farmhands arrived around ten o’clock.  It was exciting to be consistently busy, and you felt part of a team even though you’d just started working with these people.  It was a privilege to be a vendor at this famous market, and you were proud to see the culmination of your work in the fields as you bundled bouquets and trimmed stems for shoppers.

You also loved working with your boyfriend and watching him rise to the challenge.  You’d always admired his work ethic.  When he was committed, he couldn’t be satisfied with doing things halfway.  He constantly challenged himself.  Sometimes you wondered if he ever got tired of the hustle, but he was always looking toward the next adventure.

You’d been surprised when he’d asked you to travel with him after graduation.  You’d started dating halfway through your third year at Karasuno, and while you had no doubts about your feelings for each other, you hadn’t considered tagging along on his world tour when it was still pretty early in your relationship.  You should have expected that he’d already worked you into his future plans.  After all, he never did things halfway, and that included giving his heart to you.

These past few months had been some of the best of your life.  You’d discovered so much about the world, about Nishinoya, and about yourself. Not knowing what you’d be doing next month could be challenging, but you were learning that not having everything planned out could be exciting, too.  Liberating, even.  And your boyfriend kept it fun.  You were really glad you’d decided to join him on his travels.

“Here.”  You offered him a chilled water bottle as you sat in the back of the transport truck a few blocks from the market.  He gave you a sandwich in exchange, the bread fresh and the meat sliced as you’d watched by one of the vendors in the market.  Everything seemed to taste better when you knew the people making it cared about the quality of the ingredients.

You savored the first few bites of your lunch in silence.  You’d been busy nonstop nearly all morning, and you welcomed the chance to sit down for a bit.  The weather had warmed as the sun arced through the sky, but it remained comfortably mild.  It really was a lovely day to be outside surrounded by flowers.

“I think we might sell out again,” Nishinoya observed, crumpling the paper wrapping of his sandwich into a ball.  The rate at which he ate never ceased to amaze you.  “That’ll be two weekends in a row!”

“No doubt it’s due to your charming salesmanship,” you mused with a grin.

He laughed appreciatively.  He attracted people like the sun pulled on the planets, and his easy-going straightforwardness meant he got along with almost everyone.  Even if your compliment had been partially in jest, you wouldn’t be surprised if his bright smile and enthusiasm were drawing people to the stall.

“I think it’s the flowers,” he deflected, picking up a bloom that had fallen out of a bucket.  “Rin and Chizuru’s farm is amazing.”

“Thinking of buying up a French flower farm yourself?”

He laughed again, and you thought that you could listen to that sound forever and never get tired of it.

“No way, it’s way too complicated.  I’d have to remember when to plant and harvest and water and fertilize, and then there’s all of the budgeting and hiring and way too much planning.  I can’t keep track of all of that!  You could probably do it, Y/N.  If you wanted to, I’d be your best farmhand ever.”

He tucked the flower behind your ear, and you couldn’t help the light blush that dusted your cheeks.  You knew Nishinoya meant what he said.  He never spoke without conviction in his words.  If you really wanted to buy a farm and settle down, he’d support you and help you.  He really would be the best farmhand ever.  But you wondered if he’d really be happy, being tied to one place when there was still a whole world to explore.  Would he tire of perfecting flower patches and grow to resent your choice?  Could he ever settle and be content in one place?

He was looking at you intently, smile undimmed, and you decided that you didn’t want him to settle.  Certainly not for yourself.  Someday perhaps you would tire of the travel and adventure, and then you would broach the subject of finding something more permanent.  You weren’t ready to ask that of him yet.  He was still blazing across the sky, and you were pulled along in his wake.  For now, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“That sounds like too much for me, too.  Besides, there’s still a lot to see, right?”

“Right!  We’re going to conquer the world together.”

“Let’s just focus on conquering the market today,” you chuckled, standing in the truck bed to grab a few buckets of flowers.  You’d need to refill the displays when you got back.

Your boyfriend surprised you by leaping into the truck bed and nearly tackling you from behind with a hug.  You laughed as he gave you a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, babe.”

“For what?”

“For coming with me.”

He said it like it was the simplest thing, his focus already turning to the buckets of flowers.  Warmth bloomed in your chest.  You’d follow him wherever he wanted to go.  You just couldn’t stay away.  Your universe wasn’t complete without its sun.

“Hey.”

He turned, and you surprised him by capturing his lips in a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Yuu.”

“I love you, too,” he promised with softened eyes and a look of devotion he saved only for you, and for a moment, you thought you knew how the moon felt when she was set aglow with the sun’s reflection.  You kissed him once more before hopping out of the truck and hefting a bucket of flowers in your arms.

“Come on, let’s go charm some shoppers so we can sell out and get the rest of the afternoon off.”

“What, did you have plans for today?”

“Nothing particular, but we haven’t done much sightseeing since we got here.  I figured we could wander around a bit and find something fun to do.”

“Sounds good to me!” he agreed, and you knew that whatever you ended up doing, he would make it an adventure for both of you.

#haikyuu!! #hq #Nishinoya Yuu #nishinoya #noya #nishinoya yuu x reader #nishinoya x reader #noya x reader #fluff #haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu!! fanfic #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu!! x reader #hq fanfiction #hq fanfic #hq scenarios #hq x reader #flowers #guardian deity #best boy

[sadboyayeron]

Tapping at my Chamber Door Chapter 3

The lady.  Jennifer Hubert judging by the name on the desk plate.  Told them to sit in the chair or bench infant of her desk while she went around then in sat down.  Kevin sat in the chair directly in front of her.  Neil and Andrew took to sitting on the bench on the right side of the wall.  It wasn’t a particularly large space but it wasn’t to small to fill claustrophobic with four people inside.

“So Kevin Day, It is very nice to meet you my husband loves watching you guys play Exy,” She smiled at them and then opened a drawer in her desk pulling out two folders.  “ Now these paper were just printed out today.  One from Nikoshi’s Doctor and another from his psychologist.”  Kevin straightened his back more at that.

“Psychologist?”  She looked up at Kevin.

“Yes, a lot of children in foster care go to see a therapist.  It helps cope with abandonment and makes sure the kids are transitioning well in their new homes.”  She opened one of the folders.  “Nikoshi saw a therapist who recommended him to a psychologist.  He was diagnosed with ADHD/ADD and given medication.  He went through three different medications before he was put on Focalin XR.  His biggest issues are impulsivity, managing feelings, and energy.  There is more information in the folder with getting the prescription at a pharmacy and things to know about his behavior.  He takes Focalin every morning before school, its not needed on the weekends but to long off it isn’t the best idea.  Though if you want him off the medication, if you ever come to adopting him you can do that.”  She looked towards the other two. “Will you two be helping take care of Nikoshi.”

“Yeah we are, is there anything else we need to know.  If he needs a therapist we already got that covered.  We can send her the information.”  Neil replied with a bored tone but 

“Thats good to know, he just saw the doctor last week.  He gained some weight and is now at a more healthier weight then he was before.”  She sighed. “You have to reminded him to eat, he forgets to and he doesn't ask for food.  The foster home he was just at was good with keeping a schedule, he ate, took his meds, ate at school, had a snack at home, soccer practice and then dinner.  He gets distracted and has little habits that cause him focus to much on random things.  The meds take away his hunger also, so it important that he finishes.”  She then closed both folders and stacked them together before sliding them to Kevin.  

Kevin didn’t know how to process that.  This information sounded to familiar.  He always had to remind Riko to eat something.  Riko would go days without eating, or sleeping, or even both.  It got so bad the master had to tube feed him because he past out and didn’t get back up.  Niko always got back up.  He was taken out of his thoughts when the lady, Jennifer stood.  He picked up the folders and got up following Andrew and Neil out the door.  Nikoshi was still sitting in his chair, he was singing his legs slowly and seemed fixated on his hands.

“Nikoshi, these gentlemen here are going to be your new guardians,”  Niko looked up at them.  He got a better look at there faces, now that the glasses were off he could easily recognize who the taller man was with the chess piece on his cheek bone.  He was confused o say the least.  This had to be some sick joke, or a stupid stuPID dream.  He looked at the other too, the screw that littered the red heads tan face and the man with blond hair and black studs.

“Deadass?”  He blurted out suddenly.  Fuck.  He did not mean to blurt that out.  Kevin day looked taken back by his statement and the other too snickered from slightly behind him.  The lady looked horrified.

“Nikoshi thats not how you take to people.”  She said.

“Oh, um... Sorry.”  He tried to say hoping he didn't look like a complete dumbass. “But like aren't you famous or something.”  

Kevin honestly had know idea what to say to that.  He was not prepared for any of this to begin with.  

“Come on kid we have to go to the air port, you got everything. “  Andrew glanced at the trash bag sitting next to him and felt a familiar weight on his chest.  The kid looked at his stuff and back at Andrew and nodded his head.  He grabbed it and stood up.  Andrew could see the resemblances to his trash of a father on the kids face but he could also see Nikoshi as the kid that he was.  He wanted nothing more then to protect this kid.

“Alright it was nice meeting you three and you behave Nikoshi.”  She waved at them before returning to her office.  Nikoshi tried to wave back but he kept his hand close to his side still.  The red head, Neil Josten gave him a small smile and told him to follow then to there rental car.  They went ahead of him but Kevin kept looking back.  When they got in the car Neil was sitting in the back with him. Niko sat behind Kevin while Neil was behind Andrew.  Andrew turned to look at Niko while Kevin pulled out of the parking lot.

“You hungry?”  he asked.  Niko realized he never got to eat breakfast, Kris usually made sure he did because she was told to make sure he stayed at healthy weight.  He was about to say he hadn’t eaten yet but a quick glance at the clock in the front told him it was already 1:14pm.  Instead he shrugged.  He wasn’t hungry, but he also knew that the meds took away his hunger and he should probably eat something.  “Is there anything you would want to eat.”  Yes.  Bacon egg and cheese sandwich.  He didn't voice that though he just shrugged his shoulders again.  Andrew Minyard sighed before looking at Kevin.

“Umm, why don’t we find something at the air port, we haven’t eaten since breakfast so we could eat.”  Kevin told him.  they made eye contact through the mirror but Kevin quickly averted his eyes.  

“Okay.”

Niko decided he did not like Airports. They were overly crowded, had to many security guards, and once they got to the the area with food he did not like that the smells of different foods.  Kevin got him a suitcase where just stuffed his trash bag where he stuffed his trash bad inside of.  He tended to stay close of all three of them but stayed slightly behind.

“Alright Nikoshi, pick a place you want to eat.”  He did not like this.  There was a lot of places to eat.  A lot of places he has never been.  A lot of food he hasn’t tried.  He did not like this choice that was given to him.  When Kevin noticed he wasn’t going to answer his question he sat his eyes on Niko.  Niko did not like this either.  Couldn’t they just pick for him.  He shrugged his shoulders.  Neil and Andrew weren’t surprised but Kevin seemed irritated with him.  He didn’t want to come off as irritating he really didn’t know.  “Thats not an answer.”  He knew that wasn’t an answer but it was the only one he had.  He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and moved his feet side to side nervously.

“Cafe con leech and strawberry pop tarts.”  Niko blurted.  Kevin was bout to say something else but Neil cut him off pointing to a 7/11 that was right next to them on the left.  Kevin didn't like the idea of giving a 10 year old coffee but went with it when Andrew flicked him a look.  Neil grabbed the pop-tarts while Niko followed Andrew and Kevin to make the coffee.  Andrew asked him how he liked it. “Half filled coffee with two spoons of sugar...No it needs to be even with the spoon.  Yes.  And the other half almost all milk and the vanilla creamer for taste.  Yay!”  

This kid is getting excited about Andrew doing his coffee how he likes it, what the hell.  This better not be a coffee addiction he is feeding.  He handed the coffee to the kid ignore Kevin's little frown.  This was the first time he saw the kid smile, besides it wasn’t even that much coffee.  The kid probably just likes the taste of it.  They went to the register meeting Neil who had the pop tart, fruit bowl, chocolate bar, and a sandwich.  Andrew could guess who's was who's.

As they sat in the chairs near where there plain was supposed to be in thirty minutes, Nikoshi swung his legs back and forth as he took off the crust around the pop-tart first.  Siping his coffee after two pieces.  Then he eat the rest of the pop-tart, took a big gulp and did the same thing with the next pop-tart.  Kevin found this behavior odd and familiar.  “Why are you eating it like that.”  Ovisuly was the wrong ting to say because Nikoshi stopped all movement.  He looked at Kevin and shrugged.  The shrugging again.

“I don’t like the criss to I eat it first and like the drink the cafe at the same time so I get all the flavors.  But I don’t like mixing the strawberry with it so I eat that last and then drink more.  My foster mom always gave me Cafe con leche and pop-tarts.”  Niko wasn’t in the mood to eat anymore.  Now he was thinking about it and he didn't want to.  He only had a little bit left and knew he had to finish it or else it would be wasting.

Kevin you are a ass.  He watch Nikoshi shove the rest into his mouth and then chew ever so slowly while looking around.

“Nikoshi have you done any sports.”  Neil leaned forward to look at Niko from where he sat next to Andrew to get a better look at the kid.  Niko looked at Neil and nodded.  He told them about being on the soccer team.  Kevin made a face to that and Andrew gave a tiny smirk.  He explained how he was supposed to be right wing, which is like a midfielder that can play both offense and defense and assist the striker or can shoot in the goal.  He was supposed to be a right wring but he coach always switched him around the field.  He played striker a lot too.  He was the fasts on the time.  Neil smiled at that.  Kevin thought about how good he would be at sexy with his father and mothers genes and quickly tried to shut the thought down.  Nikoshi also explained how he played basketball and baseball for fun with some kids in the area.

Soon it was time to bored the plain.

(So I don't know if Im going to continue writing like this, Ideas pop up randomly so I might just stick to doing that)

This is possibly the last chapter but Im still going to be talking about Niko.  Send me asked about him if you want.

#nikoshi #nikoshi doe #nikoshi motherfucking doe #the only valid moriyama #kevin day #andrew minyard #neil josten #all for the game #all for the game fanfic #aftg #aftg fic #tfh

[purkinje-effect]

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 42

Table of Contents. Second Instar, Chapter 9. Go to previous. Go to next. ‘Choly, slow down. You’re advancing the plot.

________________________________

Kitchen sounds beneath ‘Choly woke him. He glanced to his Pip-Boy for the time. 4:47. He rubbed at his face. Angel had covered him in his sleep. He slumped upright, then wandered into the bathroom before heading downstairs.

Angel had opened all the windows downstairs overnight to air out the dust. The Handy hummed pleasantly to itself at the pantry. ‘Choly smiled to himself as he ambled through the living room and across the crusty, deteriorated low-pile red carpet, to sit at the small linoleum kitchen table.

“Good morning, Mister Carey! I was just about to rouse you, when I heard the plumbing. Oh, please tell me you rested well.”

“I rested... amazingly.” He nodded appreciatively at the presentation of coffee in his Billerica Golf Course mug. “You’ve been busy.”

“My apologies that breakfast isn’t elaborate.” It presented plated reconstituted egg powder with some hard yellow cheese and a mound of nondescript fruit preserves. “But I’ve made sure you have your morning coffee, at least.”

“Where did you get eggs?” He nearly didn’t think it could be eggs.

“It’s another MRE. G-3 was by already with your dry cleaning. I asked it to bring you an MRE fitting for breakfast fare, and also a percolator.”

With a mouthful of egg and cheese, ‘Choly gazed, half-awake, at the percolator beside the stove. Vaguely, he recalled that MREs may have precipitated his concocting Melancholia in the first place. The eggs weren’t bad. They were just... wrong. Scrambled eggs were supposed to be chunky and fluffy, but these were almost like aerated rubber. It was better than the Yum Yum smoothie. Just about anything was better than the Yum Yum smoothie. He washed it down, and sank into his chair.

“I want to try to dry the silt beans as soon as possible. Preferably dry roasting in the oven, I think. We’ll need a way to grind them.”

“I take it the meal last night gave you trouble.”

“Yeah, and this one probably will too. It’s got nothing to do with the taste. I have to eat something, though.”

The fruit preserves were neither tart nor sweet. He ate them anyway.

He glanced around the kitchen and living room. Angel seemed to have unloaded a majority of its storage to the locations typical of such items: magazines on the coffee table, rations in the pantry, and toiletries in the bathroom upstairs he realized. His syringer rifle jutted out of the golf bag in the front corner, an odd juxtaposition to what could have otherwise felt like just another day in 2070. He supposed Angel still kept all the chems inside itself, though. He picked up his plate and stood in the living room, to look at the periodicals on the coffee table. The history textbook lay among them.

“You said G-3 stopped by?” He sat on the edge of the couch to finger through the book.

“I didn’t want to wake you, so I received your dry cleaning. Everything is hung or folded upstairs in your closet.”

He murmured in affirmative, and set his food in his lap to stare at the photograph Jared had shown him. Figure 16.4, ‘Major Johnston and Three of His Pharm Corps Chemists.’ Left to right: Second Lieutenant Gary Sydney, and Captains Olivia Francis and Alan Carey. Major Theodore Johnston to the right.’ The Major had been a grizzled old man with peppered hair and a bulletproof mustache, while 2Lt. Sydney with a slicked short dark undercut had likely been the youngest officer on base. His brow furrowed before slacking as he stared at Olivia. With a heart-shaped face and a full head of blonde hair pulled back into a neat bun, she had a few inches on Carey, who stood beside her with his dark hair in a mussed french twist and his eyes half-hidden behind crescent-frame glasses. No, he remembered her. Structured, punctual, and paradoxically recalcitrant to spite her rank. If there’d been anyone Johnston had indicated express dislike of on base, it was Capt. Francis. Everyone had to mitigate between the two of them by proxy. Just as the military had overlooked his more glaring traits, they were just as desperate to keep someone as skilled and versed as she.

His finger traced at his chin scar, recalling the photo predated his receiving it. He hadn’t had friends on base because he hadn’t let himself. He’d stayed to himself. The hardback book shut. No, unless it came up in conversation, he wouldn’t bother Olivia with his relic, or how he got it. He set the empty dish in the sink and finished off his coffee, then vanished upstairs.

As indicated, his orthotics and uniform pieces lay in the drawers of the chest in the closet. He strung himself into his orthotics, which now shone white they had come so clean, and brushed his teeth and washed his face. He dully traced at the metal he’d applied to his bathrobe the night before, only to remove them and set them atop the closet chest. The wool uniform, combat boots, and tucked four-in-hand khaki necktie came next. His hair swept up into the neatest french twist he’d achieved in recent memory, owing to the decent lighting and access to a mirror. He retrieved the white coat from its hanging bag, and returned the nameplate and bars to it, to wear it. The full length closet mirror had shattered, so he sized himself up in the bathroom. The echoes of 2077 snagged at him, and he loathed a moment what his work day might bring, until he could reassure himself that Olivia had sworn they no longer needed to test CM on soldiers. With a sardonic breath, he went downstairs in search of his bracers and holsters, to complete the ensemble.

‘Choly and Angel went to the General’s office, to meet G-7 waiting in the hall.

“The General got restless,” it informed, leading the way to the Robotics wing. “She’s always working on something.”

When they arrived, Olivia had powered down a Sentry Bot and crouched to do maintenance on one of its three mecanum limbs. An Assaultron stood nearby. G-7 excused itself, having accomplished its shepherding, and silence besides mechanical operations subsumed the space.

“Good morning,” ‘Choly began, hands laced behind him. He stiffened in the presence of two of the military’s most powerful robotic models.

The ghoul looked up, but didn’t stand, focused on her task.

“Take it the food was satisfactory,” she commented, deadpan.

“It would be apples to oranges, to compare an MRE to Angel’s cooking.”

Angel scoffed at him and he grinned at it with a side-eye. She guffawed.

“Since it’s just me, I don’t really bother much with getting meat and produce on base. I’m fine with the bicentennial MREs, with the occasional indulgences. They’re edible, and there’s enough variety left. It’s not like I’ve been stuck eating InstaMash every day, three meals a day, all this time.”

“--But don’t you miss things that can’t be in a Meal Ready to Eat? Salads? Or--”

“--Around the time the world ended, I took my grieving, Carey. Melancholy. I don’t need the pampering of fresh food, or... sweets... or a... rare steak...” She tossed down her crescent wrench and sat cross-legged. “Oh, who’m I kidding? I’ve just gotten so used to it, that I stopped questioning it. It’s convenient, and it’s still edible, and it’s not junk.”

“It sounds like you’re fishing for me to give you a reason to do something about the food,” he smirked.

“It’s certainly not something I’d fix, just for my own sake alone, that’s for sure.”

“Maybe once we contend with the potential security threat, we can work on improving the quality of the base’s food supplies. I feel like we both could probably stand to take better care of ourselves.”

Olivia’s features tightened just enough to notice, before she stood, and patted the Sentry’s thigh plate with a resigned satisfaction. She rounded to its back, and uncoiled the key prong of her Pip-Boy to plug into the robot.

“Maybe so.”

The Sentry powered back on with a series of hisses from both mechanism and steam, and it lurched as its hydraulics kicked in.

“Good morning, General,” it grunted in a low broken digitized voice.

“Good morning, S-2. I’ve replaced that cracked roller, and I rotated your belts. You’re free to return to regular operation.”

“Affirmative. Maintenance valued.”

The Sentry rolled out of the garage doors with unexpected agility for something as enormous and bulky as what amounted to a robotic tank. ‘Choly gave it a wide berth, straightening on his cane. Meanwhile, Olivia had begun to circle Angel with her hands in her back pockets.

“Parts from Handy, Gutsy, and Nanny,” she remarked, nodding. “You’ve gotten parts from all three models cooperating smoothly. Impressive. Angel, what’s your current ammo count?”

“Miss Olivia, I have twenty-seven 5.56mm bullets, and 59 fusion cells.”

“Oh, no. This won’t do.” She about faced and waved them to follow her to the next hangar over: Storage. They trailed behind her as she skimmed aisles for mental notes. As she spoke next, she produced the indicated items. “All three tendrils utilize laser attachments. You need at least a hundred fusion cells on hand. And I won’t accept anything less than a full 5.56mm belt.”

“Thank you!” It loaded the ammunition into its attachments, handing off the 27 spare bullets to her in exchange for the full belt of 500.

“Always thought any Handy could be a Gutsy at heart,” she grinned. “Angel, you’re a beautiful piece of work. Really something else."

“It’s all thanks to Mister Carey,” it insisted in continued gratitude.

"You deserve the best,” he deflected, stressed to realize that the Assaultron had followed them.

“Oh, Melancholy. Lighten up.” Olivia gestured at the Assaultron. “This is Helen. Helen, Melancholy. Sorry I didn’t introduce you two earlier. I forget everyone doesn’t already know everyone.”

“H-- hello, Helen.”

“I won’t hurt you unless you deserve it,” the cyclopean robot greeted in a deep, coy tone.

A nervous laugh trickled out of him.

“The army didn’t issue me a robot like they did you, so I appointed Helen mine myself.”

“I see.” His composure slowly cemented. “You... mentioned my accent last night.”

She paused to find the best wording she could muster.

“We all knew you’re red, ‘Choly. You weren’t the only one of us that passed for an American. The Feds got real desperate in the final years before the Great War. Reached for just about any asset they could grab, including contracting well outside the Thirteen Commonwealths. You’re fortunate that of all your colleagues to survive, you’re stuck with one that worked alongside you long enough and closely enough to know you’re a loyal fuck.” She leaned in with a quiet grin. “Look, I’ve read the DIA papers on just about everybody who frequented this chem pit. I know you’re only half Russian. The other half behaved itself, never betrayed us. You’ve proved yourself just as much as any of us did.”

The truth rang in his ears like gushing water. What was his motivation? He’d told Jared he’s loyal to security and safety, and money in lieu of the first two. Confident the dollar no longer carried any weight, he wondered if how he’s changed as a person since Lexington was for the better. It hadn’t even been a week, and already his priorities had been turned on head. More than anything, they had to work toward preventing the raiders from overtaking and occupying the Deenwood Compound. The Rust Devils would abuse the chem resources far worse than the Deenwood chemists had, and in the wrong hands, Deenwood’s robotics could easily decimate what was left of the Commonwealth. The base was viably his new home now--the sense of belonging had not been stronger since he’d thawed out--and Olivia’s reply had him grasping blind for any way to prove what he was willing to do to defend it.

“It’s not just the two of us and all these robots, right? Surely not. And even if there really isn’t anyone else on base, there has to have been survivors in Lowell? Or Chelmsford? I... didn’t get a good look at the state of Billerica on the way up here, but I wouldn’t be shy to double back if it meant we could drum up allies.”

“Chelmsford and the Highlands are crawling with ferals. Most of Lowell and Pawtucketville’s wildlife. Pelts and Merrilurks. There’s a pocket of trappers in Centralville that call themselves the Furriers...” She trailed off into a frown. “I... don’t know if I like where this is going.”

“Would they help us? If I can get up there, would they talk with me?”

Somehow, she found cause to warm to the idea.

“I haven’t made contact with them in a long time. It’s been since before the Rust Devils settled in. Too nervous to leave Deenwood on automatic, especially without knowing how far the Rust Devils’ territory expanded. I don’t know. It’s a long shot. They keep to themselves. They’re descended from mill workers who survived since day one of the new world order.” She paced the stock aisles again, arms folded behind her. “The way’s dangerous without proper gear. You can’t cut North on Chelmsford Road and follow it up to O’Donnell Bridge, for a lot of reasons. The Devils recently took Back Central--from what my Eyebots have reported. You’re probably safest taking the West route across, and cutting across Rourke Bridge to follow the shore. Hermit crabs often hole up on O’Donnell Bridge, and believe me when I say you don’t want to know why I’m warning against encountering them if you can ever manage it.”

His face slacked. He hadn’t encountered any shellfish yet.

“If the insects got big, the crustaceans must have got enormous.”

She turned to grin at his naivete.

“Seeing it’s believing it, but you’re dead right. There’s another reason to favor Rourke Bridge. You need to go see Sticks. He lives at the Sampas Pavilion. Get him to go with you. He’s got clout with the Furriers’ sachem, Reese. Just you on your own, they might turn you away. But both of you? A much better shot.”

Doubt screwed up his face.

“What makes you think this guy will help us?”

“He’s helped me a dozen times. He’ll definitely grasp the stakes. And I’d warn you in advance, but you seemed less shaken that I’m a ghoul than you are I’m still kicking--he’s a ghoul, too. Try not to stare at him as much as you stare at me, all right? And don’t give the farm away, either. Negotiate without bartering, if at all possible.”

Caught admiring her, he poorly disguised his averted gaze with a cough.

“So you think it’s a good idea then?”

“We haven’t been able to outgun the Devils in two years. You know what an arms race looks like. You’re on the money, to propose calling in reinforcements. What’s important is, are you absolutely certain that you want to do this? You only just got to Deenwood, already flying to her defense.”

He glanced over to Helen, recalling the two savage robots that had torn after him and Angel on their way on base, and his mouth became a thin line.

“I don’t think we have another choice.”

Go to Next »»»

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 fanfic #fo4 fanfic #fo4 #sole survivor #lowell #chelmsford #assaultron #sentry bot #mister handy #melancholy #angel #olivia francis #the anatomy of melancholy

[tappity-tap]

FOREVER BElonging WITH YOU

PART VIII - THE DELIVERY

<< PART VII || END Story Rating: M Chapter Warnings: Pregnancy, medical things, and mild suggestive content. [This chapter is sfw.]

When Renji and Rukia’s daughter finally arrived, she was late.

 As in, “half a week past her due date” late.

 And because everyone involved was under the reasonable assumption that she would come before or on the projected day given by Captain Kotetsu, this unexpected delay of events selfishly interrupted the lives of people who had already organized their schedules for after said day. It was already highly inconvenient for those who resided in Soul Society, but it was even more so for the ones living on an entirely different plane of existence.

 Typical. Only her first day of life and she was already throwing baby-sized wrenches into Ichigo’s plans. Just what he’d expect from something spawned by those two.

 They were important plans, too. He was supposed to be treating Orihime, his girlfriend of eight months now, to a date that included a morning walk in her favorite park, lunch at a new restaurant downtown, and a movie of her choice; His intended birthday gift to her. Since he was swamped with classes during her actual birthday on the 3rd of September and had several major assignments due in the weeks following, he had worked extra hard to make sure this day, the 23rd of September, would be free of conflicts and he could devote all his time and attention to her. After all, Ichigo knew these were the things she treasured from him more than anything else and he would walk the world over to give them to her. Twice.

 When he thought about it, that’s what he loved most about Orihime.

 They had been together as a couple since mid January, though he had definitely harbored a crush long before that, and her even longer still. Ichigo had to reluctantly admit: If Renji hadn’t decided to play matchmaker (at his own wedding, no less) and figuratively thrown Orihime into his arms (which, ironically, Ichigo had literally done to him with the woman he had just married), he might not have ever found the courage to act on his feelings. He was happy enough being around her even just as her friend, and he didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize their relationship or make her uncomfortable. All he wanted was to see her happy and safe.

 Even though Renji had given him the perfect opportunity, he still couldn’t bring himself to confess to her at the wedding and instead asked that she make time for him so they could discuss something important. It had taken almost two weeks to find that time when both of them could sit down and properly talk, but they put in the effort to make it work. It meant they had to quite literally meet up during work hours while she was on break, but at that point Ichigo didn’t even care anymore. He just needed to come clean to her somehow.

 When he was finally able to look her in the eye over a platter of fruit tarts and quietly tell her, “Inoue…this may be selfish of me but I need you to know my feelings. For you. I like you a lot as a friend. And I think…I might also like you as something more,” Ichigo definitely didn’t expect her to break down and give him a confession of her own in return.

 Her feelings, as it turned out, were the same as his. Though she deeply desired more, all she ever wanted and expected from him was his company and loyal friendship, if it meant he could be happy.

 Ichigo ended up waiting around until her shift was over and walking her back to her apartment where they drank tea and ate more sweets and stayed up talking well past midnight. It was almost 1am when he finally arrived home and was promptly submerged in a tidal wave of nosy questions from his prying family. That was probably why he held off until April to officially tell them he and Inoue (he would soon start calling her Orihime after that) were dating.

 Funnily enough, they’d actually already deduced it for themselves from the amount of time she spent at their house, not to mention alone with him in his room.

 September rolled around and he and Orihime were better than ever…still close and growing closer, still enjoying spending time with each other, still determined to make the other as happy as they could possibly be. The only dynamic that had truly and drastically changed between them was…well…in a physical proximity sense.

 And speaking of which, in the days leading up to their date Ichigo found himself secretly hoping that she’d pick a boring and easily ignored biopic or something lame like that so they could sit in the back of the theater and find a better way to pass the time.

 That morning had gotten off to a good start. After getting up early enough to take the first shower (allowing him as much hot water as he wanted) and gulping down a quick breakfast, he zipped himself into a jacket appropriate for the brisk autumn air and set off to meet Orihime at the park to kick off their walk-lunch-movie date. It was approximately 10:46 am, 20 minutes into the “walk” part, when both their phones buzzed and lit up with identical text messages:

 GET READY!!! BABY COMING SOON!!!

 At Orihime’s insistence, Ichigo reluctantly agreed to set aside their plans for another day so they could wait on standby for any further updates on the baby’s progress from Renji (as they had promised and intended to do when she was supposed to be born, four days ago). Bare minimum decent as it was, if it could reassure Renji and Rukia to know they were only a text or call away should something drastic happen, then all the better. It wasn’t like there was anything they could actually help with since this was all going down in Soul Society and they were…not in Soul Society.

 After two and a half hours of sitting on his bed and twiddling their fingers to radio silence, the message they’d been anticipating finally arrived:

 SHE’S HERE!!!

 This one was accompanied by a photo of a sweaty and exhausted-looking Rukia lying on a hospital bed and giving the camera a weary, but noticeably happy, thumbs-up.

After studying the photo, they remarked to each other with some amusement that considering the wording of the message it would have made more sense for Renji to send a picture of the baby instead of Rukia. But as his next message informed them, they had already been given priority clearance to come to Soul Society right away so they would see her for themselves very soon.

 3:55pm, they all stood in the street just outside of Ichigo’s house waiting for the gates to appear so they could cross over: Himself, Orihime, and Chad.

 Next to him, Orihime fidgeted and wrung her hands excitedly. And next to her, Chad loomed over, tall and massive as ever. Ichigo swore he got bigger every time they met up. He was training practically every day, though, (and had even shown up straight from the gym still in his workout gear) so it actually might not have been his imagination.

 A light breeze blew a small flock of leaves past them and ruffled his hair. Sighing, Ichigo took one hand out of his pocket to brush it back in place somewhat awkwardly. It was weird not feeling the long strands he was used to having since he was a kid; He had recently cut his hair short on a whim and had yet to grow accustomed to the new style.

 Actually, that was a lie…he cut it because Orihime had mentioned a few times in passing that she thought a short haircut would look good on him and he’d finally given in to curiosity. Thankfully, it turned out she’d been right. It made him look his age, maybe even older.

 Not to mention, it was worth seeing the look on her face when he showed up on her doorstep unannounced to show it off.  He really liked making her blush and smile like that.

 “Hm. This feels a little strange,” Chad suddenly remarked.

 Ichigo dropped his hand and jammed it back into his jacket pocket. “I know. Hard to imagine those two idiots with a kid isn’t it?”

 Chad shook his dark curls. “No. I mean us going to Soul Society like this without Ishida.”

 “Oh. Right.” Ichigo shrugged. “He said he was fine with it. You know how busy he’s been recently.”

 “Still, it is sad.” Orihime tucked a strand of hair behind her ear wistfully. Her blue flower hairpin flashed brightly in its disturbance. “We don’t get to see him much anymore. I hope this doesn’t mean-”

 Ichigo let out a defiant huff before she could finish. “That doesn’t matter, does it? Ishida’s still our friend. We’ve been through things together, we still have those bonds and share the same feelings. That’s not going to change, even if we don’t see him as often as we want to.” He then noticed the other two smiling strangely at him. “What…?”

 Chad smirked and Orihime let out one of her musical laughs. “Nothing,” they replied simultaneously.

 Ichigo sighed. He adored his girlfriend and his best friend dearly but sometimes he just didn’t get them.

 At 4pm right on the dot, they felt the telltale spike of energy and shift in the wind that heralded the appearance of the Senkaimon. Seconds later, it materialized in front of them. The doors slid smoothly open to reveal the dark dank passageway of the Dangai, and its lone occupant.

 “Kurosaki Ichigo. Inoue Orihime. Sado Yasutora.” A familiar cool masculine voice addressed each in turn. Three hell butterflies fluttered out to meet them and circled impatiently around their heads as if to say “Hurry up! Get moving!”

 Ichigo gestured in greeting to the approaching figure with his hand still inside his jacket. “Yo, Byakuya! Congratulations!”

 “Rukia and Renji had the child, not I.” Byakuya eyed him with blatant disapproval for his supposed mistake. Although, that wasn’t saying much since the man always gave off the impression that his sole purpose in life was to bestow unforgiving judgment on everyone around him.

 Stepping through the doorway with the others, Ichigo shrugged. “Yeah, but you’re an uncle now, that’s something we still congratulate people for.” The doors clanged shut behind them and he fell into step next to the captain. “So, congrats, Uncle Byakuya! How does it feel to have a new niece?”

 “Oh. Yes. Good, I suppose.” Byakuya closed his eyes and turned away with a curt nod. “Thank you,” he added hastily.

 Ichigo smirked to himself. There were things even the great Kuchiki Byakuya wasn’t immune to and getting caught off guard by his own emotions was one of them.

 Of course, now that Byakuya had clammed completely shut, that was the extent of this discussion. For almost the rest of the way the four of them walked the bumpy, oozing tunnel to Soul Society in awkward silence, their butterflies flapping out little halo-like paths over their heads. It wasn’t until they caught sight of the bright light streaming in at the end of the channel that it was abruptly lifted.

 “Byakuya-san?”

 He looked slightly taken aback at being addressed after such a lengthy pause in conversation but he indulged Orihime anyways. “Yes?” he answered in a stern, clipped voice as if he was attempting to discourage any small talk in a very roundabout way.

 However, he’d apparently forgotten this was Orihime he was talking to and being Orihime, she wouldn’t be deterred by something like that. She pressed on shyly. “Um…have you seen her yet? The baby?”

 “…I have.”

 With that bit of knowledge, she gained new confidence and perked up considerably. “Really? What’s she like?” Orihime asked him eagerly.

 Byakuya glanced at her for a split second before replying with some reluctance, “Very small.”

 This was not surprising information. Not counting children, out of their entire group of acquaintances (Shinigami or human) Rukia stood the shortest at less than 4’9” tall. On top of that, she was incredibly slender and it was pretty much a given any baby that grew inside her would reflect this, plus the bump in her stomach did not end up being very big in the end. So knowing that, what Byakuya gave them wasn’t exactly useful information, either.

 When Orihime continued looking at him expectantly, he sighed in defeat and went on, “But she is healthy. She has Rukia’s eyes. And a full head of hair. Renji’s hair,” he added begrudgingly as if this was somehow Renji’s fault.

 Unprompted this time, he paused and took a breath.

 “You will not be disappointed. She is…adorable.”

 Ichigo raised his eyebrows. Was that a smile on Byakuya’s face, or was he imagining things? And the measured steps he was taking…had they suddenly become lighter? Unsure, he looked over at Chad, who shared his sentiments with a silent shrug.

 Byakuya only accompanied them as far as the gate, immediately excusing himself and shunpo’ing away the second he stepped foot onto the ground and his hell butterfly detached from his aura. Something told Ichigo this was his way of dealing with the embarrassment of letting so much emotion towards his newborn niece slip out in front of them.

 Well, it made him seem more human at least. Or…soul.

 The 4th Division’s main medical building (where Byakuya had been decent enough to direct them before darting away) wasn’t busy at all that day. In fact until they walked through the doors, the entire reception area was completely deserted save for one person seated at the first aid station nearby. The poor thing was swaying back and forth on his stool with the glazed over look of someone who’d been stuck in one spot with nothing to do for hours.

 “Hey, Hanataro!” Ichigo recognized who it was and waved. “D’you know where Rukia’s room is?”

 The zoned-out Shinigami yelped and shot several feet off his stool from shock. Displaying remarkable recovery time for someone so lethargic, he snapped back quick as a whip, standing straight at attention and braced for the impending reprimand for slacking at his post. When he saw it was only Ichigo and co. he immediately relaxed his posture and put on a relieved smile. “Oh, hi, everyone! Um, yes, it’s just down this hallway. Follow me.” He motioned for them to accompany him down the closest corridor and they followed his lead.

 As they walked, Hanataro looked at each of them and asked eagerly, “Are you here to see the baby?”

 “Yes!” Orihime nodded, excited, and moved closer to him. “Have you met her yet, Hanataro-kun?”

 Hanataro blushed rather furiously at this question. “Ah…well…you could say I was one of the first people she met,” he laughed nervously and fiddled with the strap of his backpack.

 Chad slowed pace and tilted his head. “You…delivered her?”

 Thoroughly appalled by this suggestion, Hanataro vigorously shook his head and waved his hands in front of him. “Oh…no…no, I wouldn’t even trust myself to do that! Captain Kotetsu was the one who delivered her. But the lieutenant and I checked her over and took measurements right after she was born!” He paused with one finger in the air and mouth slightly agape. After thinking hard for a moment, he scratched his chin sheepishly. “Um…I forgot what they were. I was sent away once I did that.”

 “That’s okay. We’ll…get them from Renji or something,” Ichigo assured, knowing full well they would completely forget by the time they actually got to him.

 “Right…ah…I’m sorry, but I do have to get back to my work. Her room’s right there.” After pointing it out, he waved and hurried back down the hall to his station. The others continued on.

 Up ahead there was a flash of red and Renji popped forth from the room Hanataro had singled out. When he spotted the approaching trio, his face immediately lit up and he waved at them with all the enthusiasm of a puppy bounding over to say hello to its favorite human. They had seen Renji get worked up when he was feeling strong emotions many times before, but never like this. Right now he looked positively giddy with elation.

 “Ichigo! Inoue! Sado!” His loud booming voice echoed down the hall and practically knocked them down with its intensity. “Gladja could make it!”

 A passing orderly carrying a tray full of surgical supplies and bandages winced. “Excuse me, Lieutenant Abarai…I understand this is a happy occasion but I must ask that you please keep your voice down. There are recovering patients on this floor,” he insisted, balancing the tray with one hand and gingerly rubbing the ear closest to Renji with the other.

 Wide-eyed, Renji shrank back and rubbed the back of his head guiltily as the orderly continued on his way. “Ah…right. Sorry.”

 “Yo, Renji,” Ichigo greeted once they reached him, “everything good? How’s Rukia?”

 Renji dropped his hand and grinned broadly with a sing-song voice, “Come ‘an see for yourselves!” He whirled around in a flurry of ponytail and shihakusho and proceeded to prance back into the room with an overly accentuated bounce in his step.

 Ichigo glanced at Orihime, who looked back at him and giggled under her breath. He had to agree with her; Renji was acting a little silly, even for him. Any other day and Ichigo would have given him grief for it. But considering the circumstances he supposed he could let this one instance slide. After all, the guy did just witness the birth of his first child, he had every right be stupidly happy about that.

 And come to think of it…that goofy demeanor sort of reminded him of his own father. Maybe it was a Shinigami dad thing? Ichigo hoped it wasn’t contagious. Or hereditary.

 “Rukia! They’re here!” Renji announced in a raised whisper when the three of them followed his lead through the door.

 From the bed in the center of the room, Rukia rolled her heavily lidded eyes. “I heard you the first time, Renji.” But she smiled warmly at her friends in greeting as they filed in and lined up at the end of her bed, right in front of the small table where various gifts and flower baskets had begun to accumulate.

 Then the bundle in her arms stirred and gave a tiny squawk of a cry.

 “Shhh…it’s okay.” Rukia gazed down and crooned in a soft tone Ichigo had never heard her use before as she tenderly rocked it. “You have some visitors, sweetie. Do you want to meet them? They want to meet you.” She spoke every syllable so slowly and deliberately he started wondering what the hell kind of drugs they were giving her to make her talk like that. And use a very un-Rukia-like word like “sweetie”.

 Perched on a chair drawn up beside the bed, Renji watched them with a joyfully pained expression, like he was on the verge of crying any second. He even gave a minute sniff and drew his sleeve across his eyes.

 Good grief, Ichigo thought to himself. Renji was blubbering so badly it was starting to remind him of Orihime. Which, of course, was perfectly fine when it was Orihime, but Renji displaying that type of disposition was just plain bizarre.

 Rukia suddenly looked up and frowned at the three of them. “What are you standing there for? Get over here and say hi to her. She’s a baby, not a virus,” she scolded. That sounded much more like the Rukia they knew; Raking them over the coals for something as trivial as their failure to properly greet her hours-old child who understood approximately zero words of spoken language.

 Unsurprisingly, Orihime made the first move. Nervously jittering from hairpin to boot tip in her mix of excitement and apprehension, she shuffled around and sat on the bed next to Rukia. But when she looked down at the bundle, her hands flew up to her face and the timid look underneath gave way to one of pure joy.

 “Ohhh…Rukia-san…Renji-kun,” Orihime gasped softly, “She’s beautiful.” She glanced between Renji and Rukia with a hopeful expression. “Um, may I…is it alright if…”

 “Would you like to hold her, Inoue?” Rukia prompted, giving her a gentle smile.

 “Yes! Please!” Orihime beamed and held out her arms.

 Carefully, under Renji’s contented observation, Rukia handed their daughter over to Orihime. “Be sure to support her head,” she instructed, “There you go, Inoue. That’s it.”

 The second Rukia had placed the baby in Orihime’s arms, something magical occurred.

 His girlfriend’s face blossomed into the most radiant smile Ichigo had ever seen and suddenly it was as if everything warm and soft about her had multiplied exponentially. As he watched, awestruck, she settled the baby in the cradle of her embrace so smoothly and delicately it looked like she’d been holding children all her life. Perfectly at ease with playing the role of this child’s caretaker, she almost looked more natural and motherly holding it than Rukia, the actual mother.

 On second thought…that one could’ve been his own bias talking. There was a strong possibility being kicked in the face one too many times by Rukia may have severely damaged his ability to view her as “motherly” in any way.

 When Orihime looked up at him, even her eyes were shining.

 “Ichigo-kun…Sado-kun,” she whispered tearfully and held out the blanket for the boys to see, making sure she was still supporting in all the right places. They both moved over and peered at the sleeping baby swaddled within.

 Byakuya wasn’t kidding…she really did have a full head of hair and it was the exact shade of crimson as her father’s. It almost looked like someone had cut off the end of Renji’s ponytail and glued it onto his daughter as a wig. Thankfully the rosy color dusting her chubby cheeks and delicate button nose wasn’t nearly as bright, or the effect might have made her resemble a miniature circus clown. Thin rows of dark fluffy lashes lay shut over each eye, occasionally twitching in her state of peaceful slumber, and the more Ichigo looked the more her features fluctuated between each parent. Everything about her was a perfect combination of both, though the way her nose crinkled daintily as she stirred and parted her lips with a barely audible whimper was definitely all Rukia.

 A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed it back to look at Rukia and Renji. “That’s amazing. She really looks like you guys,” was all he could think to say.

 Rukia rolled her eyes. “Well duh.” Despite her tone, the small smile she wore gave away how much she genuinely appreciated his comment.

 Chad leaned over and cautiously pulled back the blanket with one thick finger to get a better look. “Does she have a name yet?” he asked Rukia in his deep melodic voice.

 Rukia opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by Renji frantically leaping to his feet. “Oi! Of course we gave her a name! It’s Ichika! Abarai Ichika!” he insisted. He sounded highly insulted, like Chad had just accused him of being a terrible father for leaving his newborn child nameless. Which Ichigo knew he hadn’t, but again…Renji was having a very unusual day today, he could let it slide.

 Chad seemed to share his thoughts. “Right. I see. Sorry for being presumptuous, Abarai.” He nodded sincerely and let the blanket fall back into place, at the same time Renji sat down again while muttering, “Damn well should be…” under his breath.

 Orihime paid no mind to the exchange and lit up at Rukia. “Ichika? Oh! What a lovely name! Like the flower, right?”

 Renji’s jubilant demeanor promptly returned. “Right! Exactly! Thank you, Inoue!” he commended her while haughtily raising one tattooed eyebrow at Chad as if to say “Why can’t you be like her?” Chad wisely ignored this.

 “We thought…since you all embroidered strawberry flowers on my wedding veil, well…” Rukia smiled fondly and looked down at her lap. “It just seemed appropriate. Both the meaning of the flower, and in honor of all you’ve done for us.” Beside her, Renji nodded proudly.

 To the surprise of no one, Orihime’s waterworks were going full blast now.

 “Well, that makes sense,” Ichigo laughed and scratched his head, “But for a second there I thought you named her after me.”

 The bed creaked and Renji and Rukia both looked around at him with identical disbelieving stares. “Why the hell would we do that?” Renji asked incredulously.

 Ichigo stared back, feeling one eyebrow start to twitch. “Because people name their kids after friends all the time! And what’s wrong with naming a kid after me?” he asked, annoyed.

 “Not my kid!” Renji shot back. “You can go ‘an name your own kid after yourself.”

 “Maybe I will!”

 The argument didn’t get any further than this because right then Ichika decided it was the perfect moment to interrupt them with a grumpy whine and squirm awake in Orihime’s arms. All attentions drew back to her as her little balled fists broke free from the blanket with a jerky stretch and she gave the biggest yawn her small toothless mouth could muster. When her large round eyes fluttered open Ichigo saw that, once again, Byakuya was right: They were the same deep indigo violet as Rukia’s.

 The tears stopped flowing and Orihime blinked down at the infant. “Hello, Ichika-chan.” she said softly.

 Ichika blinked right back at Orihime and attempted to stare at her. It was a valiant effort, but with how blank and unfocused her eyes remained no matter where she moved them it was more like she was aiming her pupils in a general upward direction than actually staring. Then she frowned and wriggled a little as if she was checking for something. When she finally seemed to realize the person holding her was not one of her parents, Ichika’s tiny face suddenly screwed up and she began to wail. Loudly.

 Caught off guard and not entirely sure what to do, Orihime stiffened. Her large brown eyes darted wildly from side to side.

 “Um…there, there. Shhhhh. It’s okay, Ichika-chan,” she whispered and tried rocking her the way she’d seen Rukia do it earlier. From what Ichigo could tell it was a perfect imitation yet it didn’t seem to do anything. Ichika’s piercing screeches continued ringing out, to the dismay of everyone’s eardrums.

 Renji sprang out of the chair and practically vaulted over the bed to get to the screaming baby. Shoving Ichigo and Chad aside (with a little more roughness than called for), he scooped her out of Orihime’s arms and started parading around the room with some kind of weird skipping trot to his gait. “Oi, Ichika! Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Daddy’s here! See? You’re fine!” he chanted with gusto as he rocked her.

 To everyone’s astonishment, Ichika went silent almost immediately.

 Trying to wrap his brain around what he was witnessing as Renji gamboled back and forth, Ichigo raised one eyebrow and looked at Rukia. She shrugged and crossed her arms with a languid shake of her head. “She likes it when he does that. We have no idea why, but it’s the only thing that’ll get her to stop crying.”

 “Ah.” Ichigo felt it best not to ask how they found that out in only a few hours.

 “Uh, Rukia, I think she’s actually hungry now.” Renji had finished his little cantering routine and returned to his spot beside the bed. Now that he was completely still, they could see how comically massive Renji was compared to his daughter…she was small enough for her tiny body to fit comfortably in one of his hands. (Three for three, Uncle Byakuya)

 “Is she? Finally. Give her here.” Rukia held out her arms and began talking in her weird high-pitched mush-mouth speech again once she had ahold of Ichika, “Are you hungry, Ichika? Do you want to eat? Okay. Let’s get you fed.” With Ichika tucked securely in the crook of one elbow she reached for her collar but hesitated when she noticed Ichigo and Chad were still watching. Her face reddened. “D-do you mind?” she stammered, refusing to look either one in the eye.

 They hastily whipped around.

 “Oi, Rukia, do you have to do that now?” Ichigo’s cheeks burned, out of the corner of his vision he could see Chad’s visible eye widen as he shifted his weight. “Can’t you hold off until-”

 “My child is hungry now so I am feeding her now, you imbecile!” came her irate (normal) voice from behind them, “If you have a problem with it, you are more than welcome to leave!”

 After a moment’s hesitation, Ichigo stiffly shook his head and Chad muttered, “No…no problem.”

 “S’alright. You can turn around now.” Renji sounded like he was trying very hard to restrain himself from laughing.

 When they did so Ichigo was thankful to discover that Renji, despite his overt amusement with the situation, had thoughtfully planted himself on the bed between them and Rukia to act as a sort of living privacy screen. He leaned forward with one arm on his knees and gave Ichigo an incredulous look. “What, you’re not used to it by now?”

 “No, I’m not! Everyone who’s ever given birth in the clinic went straight to the hospital after.”

 “I ain’t talkin’ about that, ya dumbass.” Renji rolled his eyes and lowered his voice. “You’ve seen Inoue in less, right? So how’s this,” he jerked his thumb back at Rukia, “botherin’ ya?”

 “Well, yeah, but…I MEAN-” Ichigo clamped his mouth shut and mentally cursed himself. Renji wasn’t supposed to be aware of that little detail about his and Orihime’s relationship. In fact, seeing as it had only happened a few times so far and they’d agreed to keep it between the two of them for the present, he had no idea how anyone would manage to figure it out for themselves…and judging by the genuinely surprised look he was giving him, even Chad had been completely oblivious until that moment. The only possible way Renji could know was if he’d said something that gave it away it in casual conversation without realizing. Either that or Renji was more observant than he’d been giving him credit for all these years.

 Attempting to shrug off his massive slip-up, Ichigo closed his eyes for a few moments and calmly replied, “In case you haven’t noticed, she’s not my girlfriend. I don’t want to see any part of her I don’t have to.”

 “Well, I’ll give ya credit for bein’ faithful.” Renji lolled his head around slightly to address Orihime, who was still far too busy fawning over the baby to pay attention to him, “Ya got lucky, Inoue. Mosta the guys I know would-“

 “Would you leave Orihime out of this already? She doesn’t deserve to be lumped in with any of your dirty nonsense!” Ichigo snapped, protective instincts kicking into overdrive now that Orihime had been directly involved.

 Sensing this, Renji snorted and held up his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever ya say.” Orihime looked up and blinked at both of them in confusion.

 “Ichigo!” exclaimed Rukia suddenly, most of her still hidden from view behind Renji, “What did you do to your hair?”

 He knew she couldn’t see his eyes but that didn’t stop Ichigo from rolling them anyway. “What, you just noticed that?”

 “I’ve been a bit preoccupied by other things today, or did you not notice that?” she answered dryly.

 Orihime smiled eagerly at Rukia. “It looks nice, doesn’t it?”

 Rukia was noticeably silent before she answered haltingly, “Uh…sure, I guess.”

 Seeing Orihime’s face fall slightly at Rukia’s not-so-enthusiastic response, Ichigo reassured her with a nonchalant wave of his hand, “Eh, don’t bother asking her opinion on this one, Orihime. She clearly prefers long hair on guys.” He looked pointedly at Renji.

 “Damn straight she does,” Renji smirked proudly with a flourished twirl to his waist-length scarlet mane.

 “N-not true! You just…happen to have long hair. That’s all!” Rukia argued back hastily.

 Even though she was fooling absolutely no one with that transparent claim, Renji still found it necessary to lean his head back at her and drawl wryly, “Oho? Then why’d I remember ya sayin’ somethin’ ‘bout my hair ‘an new uniform makin’ me irresistible the night we-“

 “RENJI!” Rukia snapped at him in warning, sounding far too frantic for someone claiming they never thought or said anything of the sort.

 He heeded her admonition and said no more about “that night” but since she couldn’t see him, Renji glanced at each human in turn and smugly mouthed, “She loves it,” while gesturing to his hair.

 A croaked gurgle sounded from Ichika and signaled feeding time was over. Renji turned and took her from Rukia while she put her clothing back into place. This time, Ichigo and Chad respectfully averted their gazes to the ceiling until a soft cough from Orihime signaled it was safe to look back.

 They watched with some fascination as Renji slung a small blue towel Rukia handed him over his shoulder and started gently patting Ichika on the back when he had her settled upright against it. Though “tapping” was a more accurate way of describing it since he could only fit two of his fingers on her tiny back.

 For anyone who had fought alongside Renji in battle (or fought him directly), this was a strange sight…the same guy they’d witnessed punch through walls and chuck his enemies almost a football field away with those massive powerful hands of his, now using them to handle this delicate little baby as softly as if she were made of spun sugar.

 Ichigo didn’t realize he was staring until Renji looked at him strangely and grunted, “What?” Shortly after, Ichika let out a quiet burp.

 “Nothing. You just…actually look like a dad right now,” he admitted with a casual shrug. Renji raised an eyebrow questioningly. Ichigo could tell he was putting on a face as blankly dull as he could make, however when he laid Ichika over his arm to re-adjust her wrappings and gently brushed his hand over her wispy red hair he was no longer able to hold back the proud smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

 As if this suddenly jogged her memory, Orihime gasped and jumped up off the bed. “Oh! Renji-kun, could you bring her here and sit next to Rukia-san? I promised Ishida-kun I’d send pictures since he couldn’t come.” She produced her phone from her jacket pocket and backed away several paces.

 Nodding cheerfully, Renji took her vacant spot and reached around Rukia to pull her close until he had both his girls securely gathered up into one big family cuddle. Startled and visibly annoyed by Renji’s spontaneous act of physical affection (in front of their friends, no less) Rukia immediately whipped her head up and tried to shoot him a Look. One tender smile and a loving squeeze to her elbow from him, however, and she was soon quietly snuggled into the embrace, even relenting enough to lay her head on his chest. Ichika proceeded to fall back asleep in the warm nest of her parents’ entwined arms.

 While Orihime held up her phone and told them to say a bunch of nonsense words before taking the picture, Chad leaned over to Ichigo with a low hum and commented, “They’re a good looking family, huh?”

 “Yeah.” Ichigo nodded and watched Orihime snap multiple shots. “They really are, I gotta admit.”

 Chad regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. “I wonder…” he paused and glanced over at Orihime, sitting happily with Renji and Rukia as the three of them admired the batch of photos she’d just taken.

 Ichigo eyed him suspiciously. “…What?”

 Chad smiled and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Oh, nothing.”

 Ichigo knew his friend well enough to recognize that type of smile meant it actually wasn’t nothing, but he was prevented from calling him out on it by the boisterous arrival of a group of all-too-familiar Shinigami. After dodging several tipsy greetings (and discreetly questioning why the hell so many of them were that drunk this early), the three human visitors decided it would be best to take their leave.

 To be more precise, two of the human visitors decided it would be best to take their leave while working to persuade the reluctant third, as she kept prolonging her goodbyes in an effort to stay with the baby as long as possible.

 “Come by any time you want! We’re off duty for the next three months!” Rukia called out as they walked out the door. With one last wave goodbye at Ichika, now buried within the midst of a new throng of admirers, Orihime gladly assured her they would.

 The entire journey back through the Dangai, she could not stop talking about baby Ichika. And astonishingly, Byakuya now seemed openly keen to hear all the good things she had to say about his niece.

 “I’ve never seen a tinier baby before! The way Renji-kun held her in his hand…it was so cute! And you were right, Byakuya-san, her eyes looked just like Rukia-san’s! So much of her looked just like Rukia-san! And Renji-kun, too.” Orihime sighed happily and gazed at the photos pulled up on her phone. “Oh, she’s going to be so pretty when she gets older! Don’t you think?” She looked up and addressed Byakuya directly with this question.

 Byakuya nodded politely to her in agreement as she rambled on but once she switched her attention back to the photos, he turned slightly away and quietly sighed, “If she takes after her mother, ” under his breath.

 Ichigo, being the only one who heard him say this, quickly stifled his laugh with a rough cough that sent his hell butterfly reeling and almost crashing antennae-first into the wall of the tunnel. Byakuya said nothing but shot him a subtle warning glare as it fluttered back into place.

 The sky was starting to darken when they finally stepped back into the Living World as the doors closed on Byakuya’s retreating back and the small flock of butterflies that followed. Orihime was staying with the Kurosaki’s for dinner that night so Chad said his goodbyes as well and left them together outside of Ichigo’s house.

 Ichigo surveyed Orihime, flushed from the cold and shivering slightly. Without thinking, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She looked up at him in surprise. “Oh, Ichigo-kun…I’m fine, really! But aren’t you going to be cold now?”

 “Nah. I’ve got extra layers on,” Ichigo assured her, “besides, we’re going inside aren’t we? It won’t be for long”

 “Ah, yes…you’re right.” Orihime smiled and held the jacket around herself. She really looked cute wearing his clothes, even if they were a little big on her. He couldn’t help the smile that broke out when he thought this, and actually almost didn’t notice he was doing it at first. If the way she bashfully bit her lip and pulled the jacket tighter was any indication, Orihime definitely noticed.

 “Ichigo-kun?”

 “Yeah?”

 It was getting hard to see in the twilight but he could still make out the way Orihime pursed her lips and gazed at him with an expression that could only be described as hopeful. She started, “Seeing Ichika-chan…and seeing all of them together…it made me think…” Suddenly she blushed and turned away from him.

 “What?” Ichigo asked, genuinely interested to hear what she was going to say.

 After a moment, she hummed softly and tried again.

 “Ah, it’s just that…Renji-kun and Rukia-san seemed a bit different. But it wasn’t in a bad way. Even for Renji-kun,” Orihime murmured thoughtfully. She laughed a bit and looked back up at him. “Becoming a parent really changes you, huh?”

 The memories of Rukia cooing and fussing over her daughter and Renji frolicking about like some giant red and black rabbit played back in his mind, much like the movie they were supposed to see that day.

 “Yeah,” Ichigo snorted rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, “But don’t worry, Orihime. I don’t think we’ll change too much. I swear I’m not gonna get as dopey as Renji. Or my old man. And you’re already kind of the mothering type, right? At least Karin and Yuzu seem to think that. So you won’t be too different, either. Although…”

 He trailed off. Orihime’s mouth had dropped wide open and she was staring at him in shock.

 Automatically fearing he’d said the wrong thing, Ichigo frantically scrambled to think of a way to fix it when he realized it wasn’t what he said, it was the implication of what he said that his girlfriend was reacting to.

 Because he had just insinuated he was certain they would have children together in the future.

 Nearby, the streetlamps had started flickering on. Ichigo felt his face flare up right along with them and this time he was the one blushing and turning away from her. With a loud cough, he attempted to pull himself together and ended up awkwardly stammering out, “Oh…uh…I…that was…I just…”

 “Do you really mean that?”

 Caught off guard by her question, Ichigo froze. He knew by her tone of voice she wasn’t talking about believing parenthood wouldn’t change them. But did he really have an answer for what she was asking him? And if he did, was it too soon? What should he say to her? He didn’t know any of these things. Yet something compelled him to address it in some way and so, slowly, he turned back around to face her.

 Orihime was staring at the ground now, shyly twisting the ends of her long silky hair in the fingers of one hand while keeping his jacket in place with the other. The bright streetlamps made it much easier to see and the more he looked, the more they cast her in an ethereal glow and gave her the extraordinary appearance of a being emanating pure light. Or that could have been because on her face there was a smile: The same soft shining smile she wore when she looked so beautiful and peaceful cradling Ichika in her arms.

 In that instant, he was sure.

 Ichigo took a deep breath.

 “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Author’s Notes: Orihime...what can I say about her? Such a loving caring sweetheart. XD I do have a lot of fun writing characters with snark and sass but it’s always nice to write characters who don’t have a mean bone in their body. I have no doubt that in canon she was genuinely excited and happy for her friends and fell in love with Ichika the moment she met her. And yes I do believe each couple had met the other’s kid at some point before chapter 686. It was just the children themselves had never met each other since Ichika had obviously never been to the Living World (Rukia’s comment on how she’d been given “special permission” to come to the Living World now that she was a Shinigami Apprentice) and Ichigo and Orihime had probably never taken Kazui to Soul Society since he was so young.

Renji and Rukia were probably a little awkward and clumsy as parents at first since they most likely had no experience with infants (or if they had, it’d been a while) but I have no doubt they quickly got the hang of it.

That’s all, folks! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this little passion project of mine. Please feel free to share/reblog/leave comments+suggestions. :)

INDEX

COVER

PART I - The Reception

PART II - The Threshold

PART III - The Culmination

PART IV - The Issue

PART V - The Denial

PART VI - The Relay

PART VII - The Wait

PART VIII - The Delivery

#IchiHime #RenRuki #tapfic #tapart #FOREVER BElonging WITH YOU #*COLLAPSES* #holy baloney it's done #T_T #I may go back and tweak things after the novels are translated but this is how it is for now #And with that tap is off to bed

[jawllines]

HERE IS A LITTLE 80S HARRY FOR YOUR SOUL

"You good, Bug?" He asks, flipping the sixth slice of bread over in the pan and Y/N nods, oddly comfortable with him here, but she doesn't let herself relax any. Shouldn't have even zoned out as she had, but she figures if he were a serial killer he would've struck then, "You got mad quiet out of nowhere." The tea kettle shrieks a noise that startles her, causing a jump to shake through her and she nearly sweeps the whole bag of bread on the floor. When he'd started that up she wouldn't know, but he has two mugs out that happened to be her favorites (one shaped like a whale with the hand it's tail curved upward, and the other with an octopus on the floor of it, with it's tentacles extending up and over the sides of the ceramic; both she got from Niall after his "spiritual" retreat to a nonprofit ocean life exhibit that exposed him to the truth about sea world and the real ways an oceanic creature acts, looks, and behaves) and peach tea bags from what she can smell.

"Have you been in my house before?" Y/N asks him, watching as he opens the exact pantry for the plates.

Harry shrugs, "Dunno', feels like it." He answers, "Can't imagine when, if you're sayin' this is the future or what have you." And oh yeah, she nearly forgot the problem at hand.

Y/N's about to say something, when she hears her front door open and Liam and Niall both rush inside panting. Niall's got his shirt on inside out, his hair flat and lifeless on his head, and Liam's puppy eyes are bugging out, looking around quickly, a golf club in his hands. "Where is the creep?" Liam asked, looking around, preparing for battle and Y/N thinks maybe she might have over did it with the explanation of Harry here as some "tall, stalker, pervert or whatever. . .he snuck into my house!"

They look proper disheveled, though this affects Harry none. Holding the plate he had already in his hands towards them generously.

"Eggy bread?" He offers.

                                                                                        +

Liam rubs his hands over his face, sat at the table besides Niall who is scarfing down eggy bread like nobody's business. Y/N and Harry sat across from them, Y/N forking the strawberries Harry had insisted cutting up for a side into her mouth and Harry eating his bread with happy hums.

"So let me get this straight," Liam starts, the golf club he'd brought lying on the floor, "You're from the 80s. . ."

"Correct." Harry says over a full mouth.

"You were at a party, did some drugs, passed out. . ."

"Correct."

"Woke up to Y/N screaming, no recollection of how you got here . . ."

"Correct!"

"What the fuck."

"Hm?" Harry looks up to Liam, who reaffirms it louder.

"What the fuck!" Liam looks in between them, "How're you not freaking out? You literally time travelled -- you're in a new fucking millennium! This is wild, I'm skipping class today and googling everything I can even think of."

Niall speaks up for the first time since agreeing to a plate, "Sick mate! You're like a modern Marty McFly."

"Oh shite, I love that movie!" Harry reaches over for a high five, and Y/N's got her fingers to her temples.

"Okay, sweet, we all love the 80s and fucking time travelers, but are we not going to bring up the fact that he has no way home? And not to mention where he's supposed to stay 'cos --"

"Can't I stay with you?" Harry asks, tilting his head towards the side, "I like it here -- feels like home almost."

And. . .okay, Y/N was not a pushover. She was totally, definitely not a pushover.  So what if when Niall asks her to rub his back, or his shoulders, or play with his hair she does it without little thought. Or that one time Liam asked her to bathe the dog he and Niall had somehow kept a secret from the dorm patrol, and she spent the better part of three hours sitting in the tub with a pug who was filthy and really not into water. Or even when that one boy -- Louis was it? -- was drunker than she thinks she's ever seen someone, needed a place to spend the night and she let him sleep in her bed and. . .well fuck, maybe she was a pushover.

But how could she say no? How could she say no to Harry? Sure he was a stranger, but he had nowhere to go and he's probably just as confused as the rest of them. Maybe even scared -- though he won't let on -- who wouldn't be when they wake up and everything they've known has changed? Y/N wasn't a cruel person, and dare she say in the very, very, very short time she's known him she grew a little bit of a soft spot.

"I. . .cool. I mean okay, fine, but no sleeping in my bed."

Harry grins, "Oh, shibby innit? Roomies!"

                                                                                          +

When Y/N gets back after class (though she was really reluctant to go, leaving a practical stranger alone in her home though he seemed relatively harmless) Harry was doing yoga is what it looked like, changed into an old shirt Y/N recognized as her father's, sweatpants that she had bought a size to big, and his hair wet and springy ringlets. Her door shuts with a click and Harry pops up from the position he was in, smiling brightly with a wave, "You're back finally." He pushes himself up, going towards her and wrapping his arms around her in a huge hug. Y/N's eyes widen. She was gone for two hours and comes back to more affection than she gets from Niall when he has a breakup.

"Hey," Y/N wraps a cautious hand around him, "Did you get weed from down the hall and get high or somethin', 'cos I would not trust Marva."

Harry shakes his head, nosing at her neck, and what in god's name-- "I had an epiphany while you were gone, s'that you're the best person in the world. And you've got great taste in body wash -- do I smell like lavender?" He wafts himself at her and she nods for show, a little too scared to breathe in so deep around him. Not only does he smell like lavender, but he smells like something else she can't put her finger on and it's really, really nice. Though if she inhales as much as she wants of it she might pass out, so she doesn't give herself the chance. "I made us noodles for dinner."

"Were you a cook where you came from?" Y/N wonders aloud, and Harry nods, still pressed tight to her.

"Sorta. Me mum always made me help her with dinner, so I've got a trick or three up my sleeve." Finally he draws back, but he slots his fingers into hers and tugs her towards the kitchen where he's got the table made up and everything. Y/N doesn't think she's had the table set up like this in. . .well, she's never had the table set up like this before. Never had she actually cooked noodles either -- she wasn't very good at it unless it was ramen.

So she's got something short of a culinary artist in her house now, which was nice she presumes. Maybe having him here won't be a worry at all.

                                                                                                     +

Y/N would be super pissed if anybody else woke her up at 7AM on a Saturday morning to go shopping, but Y/N had promised Harry that she'd take him out if he let her study for her test that was on Friday (he was a clingy roomie at best, but he's a good study partner and promises to make jam tarts if she gets a 90%). She figured if he was going to be here for a while she was going to have to get him clothes, and though she doesn't have much money she has enough. The dorm she stays in was factored into the total cost, and since she'd maintained her GPA they offered her (just as they'd offered other students) a bigger room, with their own kitchen and bath, as a 'good job' type of ordeal.

Though Y/N doesn't know how she could be mad, when Harry wakes her so sweetly -- voice a low lilt as he speaks, "Moppet, it's time to get up! I wanted to make you a breakfast smoothie but you've got no fruit, shame on you."

"You ate all my fruit," Y/N answers back croakily, because it was true. He did eat all her fruit, "I should have granola bars in the pantry if you --" she starts to say as she sits up, knuckling at her eyes.

"Oh, Moppet, you're so cute in the mornings!" Harry gushes, reaching out and poking at her cheeks, "Makes me just wanna pinch and poke ya! Adorable, you are."

Were the 80's a touchy feely time? Y/N doesn't know, but Harry certainly made it seem like that. Nonstop, he was patting her, begging for a cuddle, pinching her sides, and picking her up whenever he wanted. It annoys the hell out of her, but not because she doesn't like that he's touching her -- she certainly likes that -- however, these little jolts like stereotypical electricity twinkles its way throughout her body anytime his skin comes in contact with hers. She tells herself it's because he's some weird time traveling guy, although deep down she knew it was something she did not feel like digging up.

It was just weird though. . .it felt like she knew Harry before, or at least was supposed to. She just couldn't shake the feeling like this was meant to happen, that he was meant to show up on her couch or something but as with many things she doesn't have a clue.

"I used your nifty little phone, and found a video store! I called and they said they had Molly Ringwald galore, so we just gotta go!" He drags her up from the bed, getting her standing, "I picked out your clothes for you."

"Are you sure you're from the 80's, 'cos you're giving me that 50's housewife feel." Y/N asks and Harry pouts his lips, frowning greatly at her.

"Bite me." He grumbles, pressing the hair from his face, "You're grumpy in the mornings too."

"I'm sorry. Not used to company so early." She apologizes, and she's surprised at how sincere it sounded. If anything Y/N was everything but sincere in the mornings, especially when she's woken up to go spend money on somebody who is not herself.

Harry grins again, bucking up and drawing her back in for a hug -- he really is an affectionate thing, "No worries! Still love you."

#i sHOULD FINISH THIS #I THINK ABOUT IT A LOT

[d00mbunnie]

Together again. chapter 1

I finished the writing weeks ago but, I took forever editing it because I decided part way through to change the story from past tense to present tense. this fic takes place after ff7 so they’re are spoilers. I can’t wait for the next installment of the game so I made a fic about what happens next.

We stood at the edges of Midgar waiting for someone to say something. Cloud spoke first

           “I think the best idea is to split up into two groups. It’ll be harder to track us that way.”

           “I dunno.” Barret says scratching his chin, “wouldn’t we be stronger together?”

           I was too tired and worried to argue. Either way works for me, both plans had merit. I stood looking up into the vast pink sky. Even at the outskirts I could hear the planet much louder. I knew the time had come to face my fears no matter how hard I try  I couldn’t avoid the future.

           “What do you think?” Tifa taps me on the shoulder.

           “oh.” I turn around to face everyone, “I think either is fine, but before we start shouldn’t we pick a leader.”

           “that’s already been decided.” Barrette says and smiled at everyone, “Of course that’s”

           “Cloud!” Tifa interjects, “he’s clearly the best person to do this.”

           Barrette frowns and crossed his arms, “Well I guess…”

           It was obvious it would be cloud, even if you didn’t know what would happen next.

           “so, who’s going with who?” I ask cheerfully.

           “I think you should stay with me, Aerith.” Cloud tells me his face was as stoic as ever but there was something different this time in his eyes. Concern or maybe it was it was sadness it’s always hard to tell what he’s thinking exactly.

           I smile, “Sure no problem. I’ll be okay if I have my bodyguard with me.”

           “I think red should come too. It’d be better if I could keep you too from being recaptured again.”

           “I can take care of myself just fine.”  Red-XIIII snorts.

           “I’m fine with just me and Tifa.” Barrette adds, “But where are we headed.”

           “We should split off and take two separate ways to Kalm the nearest town to Midgar. There we can resupply and ask around for any information about the area, who’s been through town. How dangerous the surrounding area is maybe even earn some money for the supplies we need.”

           “Sounds good.” Says Tifa, “we’ll take the western path and you take the longer southern path…it’ll be easier for Barrette and myself to take the shorter way.”

           Cloud Nods in agreement, “It shouldn’t take longer than a day to get there.”

           I wave good bye as Tifa and Barrette walk into the west. Red stands by my side, cloud a few yards away looking toward the south. He seemed lost in thought. Red spoke first.

           “It’ll be alright, Aerith.”  Red-xIII says comfortingly, “it may seem overwhelming at first, but you’ll get used to it. In fact, I think you’ll come to like it. There are so many wonderful things outside of Midgar.”

           “I know.” I say as I pat Red’ on the head, “Still it’s going to take some time to get used to hearing it.”

           “hearing what.” Red asks he looks like a sad puppy.

           “the planet.” I reply softly then walk over to cloud.

           “You ready?” Cloud asks looking at me if he was unsure of what to say.

           I push down the noise do my best to smile, I don’t want to worry him we’ve got a long walk, battles a head, there are still monsters roaming free, shinra will soon gather their forces and come after us. I don’t need to give our new leader something to stress about. So, I’ll do my best to be cheerful.

           “Ready!” I lift my hand up to giving him a high five. His face lightens and he slaps my hand back.

           We walk at a steady pace barely talking to each other Cloud walks a few feet a head of Red and I. His Amazingly blue eyes taking in every detail. His shoulders were tense and ready for whoever or whatever would jump out. Only a few wolves ever bothered us. They were easy enough to defeat. They ran away easily enough if you cast a fire spell. By midday I felt I should finally speak up.

             “Shouldn’t  we take a little break?” I ask.

           Cloud looks over his shoulder, surprised by the sudden break in the long silence.

           “Sure, why not?” He ssays and took his huge sword off his back and sat on a nearby rock.

           Red-XIII stretches his back then paces in a circle till he finally lays down with his head resting on his front paws. He yawns loudly and shuts his eyes. I Tuck my skirt underneath me and sat down on the green grass next to cloud. The sky was full of clouds, bright blue, the sun blazed in the summer sky. I turn to cloud and smile.

           “Too bad we didn’t have time to pack something to eat.” I sigh, “this is the perfect spot for a picknick.”

           “Not exactly the time for a picnic.” Cloud says, his stomach grumbling, “But something to be eat would be pretty good. Too bad we had to leave so quickly without getting supplies.”

           “Yeah, Kinda hard to pick up a sandwich or two when we’re wanted criminals.” I say looking down at my old boots.

                       “I’m hungry too.” Red-XIII adds, “I haven’t had a decent meal in ages. All Hojo fed me was dog kibble.”

           “Oh! How horrible!” I exclaim, “How long has it been?”

           “Months, at least I imagine.”  Red-XIII saiys without opening his eye.

           “Why don’t you go hunt something up then?” Cloud suggests a little annoyed. Maybe his hunger was getting to him.

           Red snorts but adds nothing more to the conversation. Perhaps he was too tired or maybe he just knew there was nothing edible to his species, whatever that was, around here. I scan the area; it was mostly grass land with a few bushes and even fewer flowers. It was greener than Midgar but still too close to be really fertile. I heard there were farms closer to Kalm, but nothing in this area. It was when my stomach was growling loudest that I notice one of the bushes had fruit. I quickly stand up and skip over hoping my eyes weren’t lying to me. They weren’t, it ‘s a blueberry bush. It’s early in the season for blue berries, but with all the Mako reactors close it might mess with the cycle of the plants close to Midgar that managed to live. I pluck one of the berries at tasted it. The berry is sweet and tart if not a little smaller than average.

           “Cloud, Red!” I shout as I turned around to wave at them. “I found blue berries!”

           Red’s ears perk up, then he opens his eyes. He walks over, cloud following him.

           “My nose must be broken to not smell something that close.” He says sniffing the air towards the bush.

           “Finally, something to eat.” Cloud says grumpily, “I thought I’d have to wait till we got to Kalm.”

           I hand a bunch to Cloud. He eats the handful in one mouth full. His angry expression slowly fades, I give him some more. I begin picking some for Red-XIII, but he goes straight for the bushes skillfully plucking them off with his cat like lounge. I wonder is Red-XIII a canine or a feline? Perhaps neither? He looks so much like a little lion to me.

           We were all starving. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate. Maybe when I was at shinra headquarters maybe it was even before that when I was at wall market. That was the last time I really had a rest. I couldn’t sleep in the lab no matter how hard I tried.

           When Cloud was finally satisfied, he speaks up, “We should probably get going now. The others are probably close to kalm now.”

           “oh!” I cover my mouth and giggle, Cloud has blueberry on his lips, “let me help you.”

           I took my thumb and whipped the corner of his mouth. He pullsback my touch, surprised, “let me help you it’s all over your mouth” I wiped the rest away. His skin is soft, smooth, and well shaven. He blushes the entire time.

           “Now your presentable.” I tell him.

           “thanks.” Cloud mutters and turns away.

           I guess he’s not used to people touching him. Even with Tifa he never gets too close.

           “do I have any on me.” Red-XIII asks.

           “Nope. You’re perfectly clean.” I said as I pat red’s head.

           “your hands are covered in it though.” Red begins  licking my blue fingers. His lounge was definitely like a cat's rough and dry. He cleans my hands not thinking that washing someone else with your mouth was odd. I smile at him and say “thanks”

           We begin walking. When are about a hundred yards from the blue berry bushes we hear a cry, “you’re gil or your life!” I grip my staff tightly, ready for action cloud is  already dashing towards the man, no three men who have come out of hiding from some scraggly shrubbery up a head. It became all too clear who these three were.

           “not them again.” I cry as a I rush after cloud.

           “you know these people?” Red asks running by my side

           Burke, Brute and Butch stood on the spot froze. They are whispering to each other, but we could all hear them.

           “Do you really try this again?” Cloud asks loudly his giant sword at the ready.

They did not reply or move an inch. Red got close enough to sniff them but still they did not move. The must have left the city hoping to rob people fleeing from it. Red-XIII snorts.

           “they smell of cowardice,” He growls, “and urine.”

           Their eyes go wide when they hear red speak, then they immediately fell down and act  like they are dead.

           “that was unexpected.” Red say as he sits on one of them and licks his paw.

           Cloud rolls his eyes then puts his sword on his back with ease. “I’ve had enough of this.” He walks on the head of butch or maybe it brute. I do my best to nimbly jump over them.

           When were just dots on the horizon I see the three get up and run towards Midgar. Hopefully that’ll teach them not to steal, but somehow, I doubt it.

           It takes another 3 hours to finally make it to the outskirts of Kalm. Farm land comes into view, then the farms themselves and a nice paved road that leads directly into Kalm. Once we hit the road old green trucks roll by, slowing down as they go past, a child in one over them waves at me. I wave back. I felt at ease as the blue shingled roofs of the town come into view.  I know there will be a roof over my head, a soft bed to sleep in, and a proper dinner tonight. I also know we are going to listen to cloud’s story. I know how hard it is for him to talk about himself. Still as painful as it must be, I want to know more about cloud. I wish I could ask more about the happy times, but not tonight. Tonight, we learn about Sephiroth.

           We talk very little as we enter Kalm. Red-XII sniffs things, he isn’t very trusting of the new place, but it doesn’t seem to  upset him to be there. He too must be happy to be free of Hojo.

           “This is the place.” I point to the sign that says Kalm inn, “looks cozy doesn’t it?”

           “Mmhm.” Cloud nods and surveys the area, “the others must be inside already.”

           “I smell them on the door.” Red said, his tail swishes behind him.

           “You been here before?” Cloud asks me

           “No.” I lie, or is it the truth, if you go back in time does that mean you haven’t been there yet, but you have because you did in the future, “My mother has been here before though. They make nice pancakes in the morning.”

           “I like pancakes.” Red adds

           I push the door open a friendly man with black hair is standing at the counter, “Welcome” he says. Then he notices red, “No…n- pets allowed.” Red glares at the man then replies, “I’m not pet.”            

           “No wild beast either?”

           “I’m perfectly civil.” Red-XIII tells them man the sniffs around, “They’ve definitely been here.”

           “We’re looking for our friends. A tall black man with a gun for an arm and muscular women with dark brown hair.” I smile at the man; I don’t remember him having this problem last time.

           “Upstairs…” he eyes red but does nothing more to complain about him. I hope he doesn’t charge us extra.

           I start up the stairs but then turn on my heel. Cloud is at the bottom.

           “don’t worry! We’re all here now!” I smile as the up the stairs, Cloud trudging up behind me. This will be hard for Cloud, but I know if I can get the answers I need when can change the future.

#ff7 remake #ff7 fanfic #ff7 remake fanfic #ff7 remake spoilers

[wishingfornever]

10/13/2017 – No Contact:  Everyone is a Little Racist

Current time. 11:50.  I just woke up from a series of naps.  Two, so I guess that’s a series.  But let me tell you about the dream I had.

I was living in this weird apartment complex.  It began with me walking around and visiting with neighbors and these two Chinese ladies.  One was older and one was a bit younger (a daughter).  They made it clear that they were into some shady shit.  They asked if they could use my car for this shady shit and I tell them no.  After that, I went along and eventually came back to find an older version of an old roommate’s youngest son (long story there) laying on a bed inside the apartment.  It’s important to note it was Halloween and he was upset about something.  I offered the support as best I could but eventually left.  I was very social and there was this cute girl I was hitting on.

The conversation with said cute girl ended in me remembering, I forgot something in my car.  I go to it and it’s not my silver Dodge but an old, blue station wagon.  Kind of a short one if compared to other station wagons.  Hard to explain.  Anyways, I discover the two Chinese ladies STEALING my car.  And I say, “...um… can I help you?”  They said yes and heavily implied that if I didn’t let them something bad would happen.  I was like, “Okay, I guess I’ll call the police when you’re done...”

Except I couldn’t.  They forced me into the station wagon and I sat in the back seat as they loaded stuff into the very back.  I tried not to look directly at it but it looked like drugs disguised as Chinese food.  I was hoping they’d drive by my apartment and the girl I was talking to would see I was being taken hostage, but no.  They made their way out of there almost immediately.

Anyways, the older one drove and she spoke like Maria.  Broken, barely spoken English.  The younger spoke a bit more but was still really bad.  We went through the mountains, where there was a lot of snow.  The older one became nervous like she’s never driven in the snow before. Upon coming down from a summit, she parked on the side of a road in a TURNING lane and ran across to the other side for something.  As she did, a truck lost control and almost hit her.

I don’t know what she did but when she came back I offered them both to drive for them.  Because GEEZUZ!!!  The dude who was in the truck came up wanting to trade information.  The car wasn’t touched so I told him, “Listen, not my problem.  Try to get information from her, the person you almost hit.”  He complained because we parked in the parking lane but eventually started speaking to the older lady about it.  They sorted everything out and we started driving again.

That’s all I remember.  Wasn’t that dramatic of a dream, but I think it’d be an effective comedy.  KIND OF RACIST, I know.  Especially since I’ve been talking about Asians a lot lately.  Normally, I don’t include race in my stories.  For example, my old roommate’s youngest son?  He’s half black, half Mexican.  I didn’t include that at all.  Most of my stories with blacks don’t mention their color.  One of the girls I was hitting on a while back over Facebook? She was black.  Why do I mention Asians when their race doesn’t matter?

I guess Asians sort of get overlooked.  Don’t get me wrong, they are still targets for racism because EVERYONE is a little racist (myself included).  However, they weren’t really targeted by All Lives Matters and people like that.  Why would they be?  The Asians I know tend to be on top of things.  And they’re RIDICULOUSLY talented. Like… fucking hell, that’s their racism trait.  Being good at most everything they do.  Except driving, apparently.

I’m not sure that’s true, either.  Unless they drive a Chevy.  Now that I think about it, blacks and whites were the ones involved in all the car accidents I’ve seen in person.  One case, I saw one get rear ended by this stoner dude.  The stoner was white and they were a black couple.  With the exception of that one waiter we had, I don’t really know too many Asians who have actually been in car accidents.

Doesn’t mean you’re a safe driver if you’ve never been in an accident, of course.  Still, just something I’ve noticed.  I think Mexicans are bad drivers.  I look at ALL my cousins as references.  Some of them have been in car accidents, too!  Thing is, they were in car accidents in… Mexico.  So, both sides were Mexican.  Drivers in Mexico are just… crazy.

Whatever. Now, what am I going to do.  Currently 12:15.  I wanted to do something before the naps but I fell asleep watching Game Grumps. Probably food.  I grabbed a dragon fruit for Adela to try but she doesn’t want to try it.  She has to open up sometime.  >:C

I didn’t do my sets yesterday or the day before.  I’ll do it today, though.  I MIGHT cook myself some eggs.  Or I might make a sandwich… an egg sandwich?  I don’t know.  I’m hungry.  I want food.  But what food? I don’t want sweet, food.  I have enough fruit for it, to be sure.  I guess I’ll make myself something with peas, actually.  That’s not a bad idea.  Then I’ll finish watching the video I fell asleep on from about where I fell asleep. And I’ll have a fruit.  Which fruit? ANY FRUIT!!!

Anyways, I’ll be on later.  Maybe.  I have an update unfortunately.  I hate updates…  Bah, it’ll be fine.  Later.

I don’t think I’m going to be a vegetarian much longer.  I’d. Fucking.  MURDER.  For a god damn burger right now.  x.x  Like… I think sometime next year I’ll get a burger from Whataburger.  Only in a few months.  I’ll try to hold out as long as possible… but no promises.  Might do what you do.  Claim to be vegetarian but still eat meat.  ;)

Kidding.  Sort of.  I MIGHT start eating fish.  Then turkey.  And eventually work my way back into beef and ham.  I just ate.  Had a peach and, as opposed to everything in the god damn HEB, it wasn’t on the verge of rotting.  Seriously, they need to work on their god damn stocking.  Like, only one avocado was edible last time I was there.  Disgusting.

Whatever. If you want them to be stocked, go early.  I’m going to have the other peach soon.  I feel SO hungry.  x.x

Eh… The food I got was kind of subpar.  I have no onions, tomatoes, or honey mustard.  Didn’t feel like cooking some eggs so I basically made a cheese sandwich with spinach.  Unfortunately, that proved to be not as good as it sounds.  The swiss cheese melted over the spinach and it SEEMED like it’d taste good.  So good.  The best even. Thing is, the spinach sort of canceled out the savory swiss.  It felt… empty.  And I grabbed a peach too.  That peach was ripe, but it was… eh.  Not as good as the other.  Just disappointing.  Filling?  Not really.  I have some spinach left but I’m saving that for an egg sandwich tomorrow.  I have ketchup and my three spices.  Seasoned salt, black pepper, and garlic powder. Put that shit in anything you cook and it’ll be grand.  Remember the mashed potatoes?  I sometimes put onions in it but you LOVED it. We should have mashed potatoes if you come out.

Ah, I just remembered.  It’s not seasoned salt I have but that pink Himalayan salt.  It’s… alright, but I have to twist the thing and that makes it harder to guesstimate the amount.  Oh, guesstimate is a word apparently.  More proof that English is fucking dumb.

Anyways, put that in the eggs, add ketchup, and I’ll have a GREAT breakfast.

You know, I got the eggs for three reasons.  Firstly, it’s not meat. Second, I saw a picture where you cooked me breakfast.  I posted it on Facebook and titled it the perfect breakfast.  It was eggs and pop tarts.  People gave me crap because it’s so simple and I said it wasn’t the food but the who.  You made that breakfast perfect. Finally, I want to try some of those egg rituals my witch friend suggested.  Turns out, the chants DON’T have to be religious to work.  So I could say, “No Pasaran” or even “I have nothing to lose but my chains” or whatever and it’d still work.  That’s some good news.

As for disposing, if it’s a protection spell, we bury it.  If it’s detecting negative energy, we pour it in a river and be on our way. I THINK Adela has a septic tank.  I’m not sure about the sewers in Houston.  So, we COULD flush it but until we know for sure, I’m not doing that with the eggs.

Apparently, you can also use potatoes for spells.  Magic is weird.  If this had happened a few months ago, then I would have been like, “Lol, magic is dumb and you’re dumb.”  However, I feel there is more to it than that now.  I’ve learned a lot from her.  Been taking notes.  I might use it for writing.  I probably won’t, unfortunately.  I have so much planned but so little time.  :c

Eh… I want a burger.  So badly.  I want to make an egg sandwich but… I won’t.  Ah, well.  Current supply in the fridge and pantry for ME to eat (Adela’s food is off limits) consists of the dragon fruit, three apples, a bottle of ketchup, almond milk, a single and final serving of spinach, half a loaf of bread, a can of peas and carrots, a can of corn, various cheeses, and 16 eggs.  We’ll go shopping sometime on the weekend.  I’ll be fine.

The rough estimate for my food is 60-80 dollars.  Per week, that would be 240-320 dollars a month.  Not including rent, I estimate my cost of living is about 800 dollars per month.  That means if I got a part time job at Starbucks, I should be fine.  Might be saving.  After this next week, I’ll apply for other jobs.  However, I’ll actually go in when Adela takes Max to the groomers.  I won’t have to try to get him in a cage or anything.  Today, I’ll call. Hopefully at about 11 and let them know what’s up.  I’ll talk to the manager and introduce myself.  Let them know that I’m interested in a job there.

I’ll get a job.  Then I’ll brag about it.  It’ll be great.  Oh, and I could perhaps save money because I won’t have to eat here. Probably won’t eat out that much.  I don’t know.  If it’s like Dunkin, I’ll be fine unless they make me work mornings.  I SUCK at mornings.

When I worked nights at Dunkin (better than mornings) I usually slept when I got back.  Mornings?  I had to wake up immediately.  I had the sunrise to wake me up.  Problem is, I worked BEFORE sunrise and my alarm was unreliable.

Honestly… I loved working at Dunkin.  It had it’s moments where it sucked, but it was pretty fun.  They gave me free coffee and tea.  I hope they do that at Starbucks too.  Maybe discounted food.  Burgers. Drool

I mean… whatever.

I just realized that the money you’re using to buy pot?  You got that from selling your super prized computer.  Oof.  You sold everything for all of this.  In the end?  At least you’re a little high.

Sarcasm.  I’m suddenly more concerned.  Please tell me you’ll stop spending on such trivial bullshit.  Fucking pot is not worth the money.  :/ Whatever.  You won’t tell me that, even if you were talking to me.  You’re stubborn.  You get told to do one thing and you’ll do the opposite.  Human nature… don’t know why.  My dad used to have this small outhouse thing that was assembled by all these parts and had a mouse trap in it.  The mouse trap connected to the door.  When you opened th door to this little outhouse, it’d explode.  He LOVED it.  He put a little sign on front that said, “Don’t Open” because he understood people don’t listen to signs.  He got so many people with that fucking door. I want one.  I think I can find one on the internet.

I’ll call my dad tomorrow too, maybe.  I really should.  Anyways, I’m going to bed.  Talk to you when I wake up.  Alarm set for 10am. Going to call Starbucks at 11.  ;)

Before I go!  I asked my witch friend what the deal with brooms are. Apparently, they can clean up negative energy!  And brooms you make yourself has a connection and cleans energy better or something.  And it can determine people visiting and you put it upside down, it’ll prevent people from coming and if they do come then they’ll leave sooner.  And you can bless your vacuum to clean up negative energies. Just gotta empty it and take out the garbage IMMEDIATELY.  And apparently you can bless ROOMBA!!!  ROOMBA CAN COLLECT NEGATIVE ENERGY!!!  OMFG ROOMBA, YOU MAGNIFICENT BASTARD!!!  SAVE THIS HOUSE OF OURS!!!

Sorry.  Sleeping now.  Later.

Current time is seven in the morning… I’m so restless.  I hate it.  I think any optimism and positivity is fading.  I might return to my grumpy annoyed self, which is a shame.  Computer is mandatory restarting today.  I FUCKING hate that.  I have to save EVERYTHING. For what?  What update could I possibly need?

My dream was nice last night.  Very… arousing.  You were in it of course.  It ended with us skinny dipping.  In my dreams, you’re always so affectionate.  I miss that.  :/

Anyways… I realized that you blocking me wasn’t to start any drama.  You probably felt I was trying to show you how good everything was here. Try and convince you somehow.  I was posting a lot of pictures of Max.  Still do, mind you, but you don’t need that reminder.  You felt that I was trying to communicate with you through Facebook.  Not my intention.  Otherwise, I’d have to go back and change no contact days to limited contact.

Surprised you noticed. Alternatively, you could have just turned off my posts so you didn’t have to see them.  Idea probably didn’t occur to you.  Or maybe you wanted to send a message.  Unfortunately, that message would be open to interpretation.  If you read this, you’ll see I didn’t get the memo.  At least, probably not the one you mentioned.

I didn’t call Starbucks today.  Woke up too late.  I’ll stay up as long as possible and go to bed early.  Try and reset my schedule as best as possible.  I need to do this before Max is taken to the groomers.  I’ll get it figured out.  So tired though.

I need to message Shane.  See if he’s alright.  Might be the food he’s been eating.  :/

He’s okay.  Whatever he had passed.  I’m glad to hear.  Could have been something far worse.  However, I still believe he should go to the doctor’s but I won’t push it.  If I were inflicted with something similar and it went away, I wouldn’t want to go to the doctor’s either.  Literally, fuck American healthcare.  Nothing but bad times. -,-

So… It’s currently 6:20.  I bought a girl some food.  She’s the sort who normally says no.  I expected her to say no.  She said yes.  So, I ordered her a pizza.  She is one of the girls I’ve been flirting with.

The thought crossed my head that “What if she’s using me?” but then I came to the conclusion that, again, she’ not the type who’d say yes normally.  She’s pretty introverted.  Spends most her days working and going to class.  If I go back to visit, I’ll have to stop by and say hi to her in person.  There are some stories with her.  I’ll have to share them sometime with you.

#breakup #slice of l #frustration #depression #getting over it #moving on #journal #a year ago today

[lifeofnes]

Wk 3

I finally got into a kitchen this week! Two different ones! On Monday I got to work in my niece’s restaurant, Conrado’s. I’ve talked about it before, but it’s this quiet, cute, 25 seater diner right above their family’s nail salon, in the middle of the busy market. None of the hustle and bustle seeps into the place. There’s wood floors, light-weight metal patio furniture for tables & seating, potted succulents, dangling light fixtures, framed portraits of our family members, and gaudy but cute melted glass decorations hung up. It has a bunch of chalkboard quotes that you’d probably see on a 17-year-olds pinterest homepage. Matter fact, most of this is rather pinterest-y. But that’s not a knock, it’s cute, and most importantly: it’s clean and air conditioned. Both rarities here, believe me, and to have both? 5 stars. Kristel has an acoustic Filipino folk-song playlist on repeat. Think, Bahay Kubo and the like, played on a soothing Spanish guitar. She serves all day breakfast and these gigantic pandesal sandwiches the size of a child’s head. And while it’s not the culinary work that I thought I’d get into, work is work. I’m gonna make this french toast. Yaherd? Things move slow mostly in the morning, a few orders of pancakes and pandesal french toast. A few ‘silogs are slung, and a maniac orders alfredo at 10am. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not bad alfredo, but it is 10am. Anyway 1:30 rolls around and orders come to a dead stop. We don’t get anyone in the door for an hour. I ask Kristel if this is normal for them and she says yeah she usually watches a movie or plays with the little baby that belongs to one of the workers downstairs. We get maybe 2 sandwich orders in the next 3 hours but for the most part, a pinoy movie is in the que. So we watch a flick on YouTube. Some rom-com with Sharon Cuneta falling back in love in her 50’s or whatever. It’s funny I guess. Kristel asks me about my love life and I tell her I don’t have one right now lol. She presses me for details and as I’m about to give in and tell her, she cuts me off and says “Your dad told us everything! Hahaha! He was crying and telling us to take care of you! Hahaha!” I’m laughing but taken aback to one thing in particular. “He was crying?...like crying, crying?” I ask. She says yeah, “One day he called us, I guess it was after you made up your mind to come over here and was saying that you’re so hurt and that you don’t know what you’re doing with your life.” Naturally defensive, I fire back that i’m good, that I haven’t felt like that in a while, that we’re friends now/she isn’t to blame as to why I’m here, and that I do kinda know what I’m doing with my life sorta, but I’m really kinda shocked still that my dad...cared. Through tears, called my relatives to take care of me in an emotional capacity that he believed he could not. I’m sure he would’ve done fine if he tried. I felt hope and disappointment kinda all in one. I wanna do better. I tell her some half-drawn sparknotes version of my romantic life and she does hers. It’s a nice bonding moment. By this time it's 3:30-4 and no one is eating in the restaurant. So Kristel send me and her only other employee, CJ, out to the palengke to grab groceries for the store. Out the door with list in hand and 500 pesos in her pocket. Time to make magic happen. CJ was so quick on her feet it was hard to keep up. Weaving through stands of vegetables, dodging hanging clothing items, correctly predicting every direction people were walking while looking at their cells, she was masterful. Everything she did was efficient, but charming still. She was like a studio Ghibli character come to life. Tastes a grape, squeezes a mangosteen, makes a face at a baby, takes a sharp left, selects the vegetables, haggles the grocer, pets the cat that's always sleeping at the light bulb stand, it was fun to witness. We get back to Conrado’s in no more than 30 minutes and unpack. Just in time too, after a few games of cards we get a last minute rush and are on our feet until close at 7pm. Everyone loves Kristel’s sandwiches, I think it’s the size and quality of the pandesal. It’s sweet but not overly so, and chewy but not heavy. Also did I say that it was the size of a child’s head? For like 200 pesos (4 dollars) what a bargain. That was the template and timeline of pretty much every day I spent there, (which was only 3 this week but I’m expecting to be there a lot more this month haha) Ate Oya (Oyo’s older sister, convenient, I know) finally took me to her new restaurant, Casa Carmen Cafe. They soft opened in June and are planning a grand opening in November. It’s a gutted out traditional bahay kubo house with original elevated skeleton, the exposed wood beams, and refurbished exterior; complete with the sliding capiz windows. It’s a little more upscale and twice as big as Conrado’s, but simple and elegant nonetheless. She Introduced me to the staff and the other co-owners. They’re five cooks in the back, five servers, and six owners. All really friendly people and excited to have a free set of hands. Casa also does food to order, but they do Filipino food instead of breakfast and pasta. They make some of the best regional dishes I have ever had in my life. Dishes like Kansi, which is a Iloilo regional beef and jackfruit soup. It’s made sour with the batwan fruit -- which is native only to western Visayas -- instead of tamarind, sampalok, or vinegar. It’s tart like sinigang but has a deeper savoriness and more dimension due to lemongrass and asuete. Suman sa Gata at Manok which according to one of the cooks, says is a super specific Cavite specialty; a sticky rice cake cooked in coconut milk and then steamed with a sliver of chicken on top. They also put spins on classics without losing the heart of the dish. Things like crispy dinuguan and fried halo-halo. They had me finishing and plating dishes first day. Finishing final grill items, wiping edges, garnishing plates, my hands felt alive, useful in a way that I can only compare to making art. It was surreal to be in a kitchen like that, and to be cooking and serving food that I've worked my whole life around. It really brought a prestige to Pinoy cuisine that I've only ever seen in Instagram photos. To see very humble stews and barbecued meats elevated to this level, at this capacity really brought me hope that I could do something like this someday myself. What was surprising was while all this gorgeous food was around them, the most excited the kitchen got was when Kim; the heaviest of the line cooks bought really crappy pizza with the promise of drinking beer later on that night. Which was so hilarious, and comforting to me. They tell me next week, i’m prepping pata and learning their dinuguan recipe. Word. On Friday my birthday happened, I shared it with my cousin Lou! He however was turning 50 lol. And before you think this is gonna be all island boy vibes and noodles, think again. It starts with a cat. 5 hurricane and ends with a very unpleasant argument with my mom. There are noodles still. So that’s good. As the day was happening I was angs- y from the two different super storms planning to DDT my whole life and not being able to gather all the family I wanted to see because of them. I ended up a touch frumpy most of they day. For some context, with Oyo now gone I didn’t really have a mode of transportation the whole past week. Mom didn’t believe I could drive by myself here. She didn’t know I drove his sisters car last week and was thriving in this type of balls out driving culture. Yeesh, and God forbid I take a tricycle by myself and get kidnapped?...I don’t know, I’m a clear half foot taller than most of the people here, in the best-ish shape of my life, and I don’t want to brag, but can throw a decent punch. I don’t know. So this whole past week I was at the mercy of my mom taking me places. Dropping me off to either of my nieces that owned restaurants, which was clearly awesome. But when I wasn’t working and being checked on constantly I was stuck by her side running errands or fixing the up the apartment in San Carlos. I felt like a preteen again. On top of that, there were things I wasn't giddy to do like: being drug to 6am mass, (rough) she then told me to order then cancel catering, (twice??¿?) and the city had erratic brownouts for 15 hours. All of which making me feel a bit—powerless. So after mass (which I mostly slept though) I was stuck at the house with nothing to do on my birthday, and no one was coming over hahaha. It’s a peculiar kind of “kick-in-the-groin” paradox when you’re not trying to make a day all about you because it makes you feel cringey and childish, but in doing so you end up trying to please yourself anyway by not feeling those things. After some alone time filming ants and laughing at myself I decided to interact with people. Tatay and I feed chickens and I tried having a comprehensive conversation with him to no avail, oh well. He end up telling me he had to get me goats. Like a switch flipped in his mind and he wouldn’t rest until is original programming was complete type of vibe. I didn’t want to fight him on it, and so about an hour later he comes back with two goats, a mom and a kid. He made me name them, THEN told me we were gonna kill them later. Cool. That’s cool. Couldn’t really sway him, being stubborn is his worst and best trait. My mom ended up taking them down the street to some relatives to take care of them and told tatay that they were too small to kill and eat anyway. Good going mom. I went inside and started looking at old photos with inay. She had stories for almost every person and photo we looked at. That was beautiful. All of my mom siblings are really brave, but especially my mom. Hearing first hand accounts of her young adult years was assuring. A few hours later I got wind that everyone at home was a-ok. What a relief. I took a step back from the lack of command I had going into the day and laughed at the parallel it had with my whole past year. I can toil and strive and work with what I got, the best that I can, but at the end of the day, things are gonna keep on turning beyond my control. I get gratification of autonomy with what I do yet the assurance of things moving forward without me. What a rad gift. Power got back on about 6pm -ish and we decided to head out to kuya Lou’s house to celebrate together because they also had power back on. We ended up having pancit and spaghetti. Noodles for long life or whatever. We ended up hobo drinking beer and a handle of jack. I had some pretty good conversations about dreams and goals with some of my cousins and got to know each other better. My one nephew JR is an aspiring historian and we talked about Philippine history for a pretty long time. That was really exciting for me, he knew so much and I don’t usually have anyone to gab about that kinda stuff or even ask questions from. At around 9 when it was dark two of my pamangkin shut off the all the lights to fake a brownout. They ended up walking out with 2 lit birthday cupcakes. It was really sweet of them, too bad I didn’t take any pictures. Live in the moment and what not right? I ended up having to go home early that night because my mom’s foot was acting up and after a few sharp looks shot my way I could tell she wasn’t feeling comfortable. I told her to go home by herself and that I’d get a ride back to the bukid somehow. She sternly said no and  I resigned my pride to argue in front of family,  I could tell she was more uncomfortable seeing me drink that much with my cousins than the pain in her foot. On the drive back home I argued about the lack of freedom I was feeling with her and the juxtaposition of her own life around my age. I think I nailed my talking points. She ended up seeing my side of things and we apologized to each other. I think the pressure is getting to her from both sides, of being a child again living with her folk and remembering to be a mom. I doubt it’ll be the last time I talk about this dynamic. I do hope it gets better soon.

#alloranes