#technically thursday is my last busy day but I will probably sleep all friday

[ahsokaoswin]

Grading Papers

A/N: Alright so this is my first time posting my writing, like at all...I just decided there wasn’t enough Ozpin x reader so I wrote some myself. 

In this one you’re a teacher at Beacon. Also, y/f/b = your favorite breakfast. Just some fluff. 

I think that’s it so enjoy!

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You were sitting in your office. Classes had let out at least 4 hours ago but there you were, still grading papers. This week had actually been pretty busy for you. You’d pulled a lot of all-nighters trying to get grading done after going on a mission for Ozpin during the first half of the week. You’d had maybe 12 hours of sleep over the last 5 days. On top of all that one of your classes had just handed in their ten page essays (on Grimm of their choosing), and most of what you were reading was giving you a headache. After finishing struggling through a one Cardin Winchester’s paper, your head simply fell to your desk in defeat. “I just can’t read another paper” you thought as you raised your arms onto the desk so that your head was resting on them instead of the hard surface and let your mind wander. Your thoughts, unwittingly, drifted towards your close friend (and if we’re being perfectly honest long-time crush) Ozpin. 

“Come on, don’t tell me that you actually only know how to make hot chocolate!” you were in fits of giggles, one arm wrapped around your middle and the other around Ozpin as you leaned against him for support. 

“Well, it isn’t that I don’t know how… it’s just that… well… shall we say… it doesn’t tend to go well…” was his sheepish response.

“So boiling water to make tea or coffee is too much?”

“Well…” now he was laughing with you, “I suppose”

“And you’re how old again?”

“Well technically…”

“you’re several thousand years old and have yet to master more than one warm beverage,” you finish, as you finally get the laughing under control.

“Well, since it seems you know what you’re doing, why don’t you come up to my office and teach me?”

“Me? The infallible headmaster of Beacon Academy wants to learn something…from me?” you tease, turning to look at him. Which is when you realize that at some point he had turned to look down at you, and now your faces were dangerously close together and he’s looking directly into your eyes. You stare for a while in shock but once you’ve processed this, you look back down, at the wall, at your feet, eyes flitting around trying to look anywhere other than at Ozpin. “Yeah, sure I’ll try to help your lost cause,”.

He only chuckled as you walked towards his office.

You must have fallen asleep without realizing because the next thing you know, there’s a light pressure on your shoulder and you find yourself being gently shaken awake. You look up, groggily, and see the clock on your desk first: 9:30…oops. You look over to the person who had just woken you up, Ozpin. Of course, I mean, who else would still be at the school this late, he probably saw that your light was still on as he was leaving to go back to his dorm. 

“Y/n?” His voice was soft, but you could tell he was holding back a chuckle. 

“mmmmph” came your gruff response, you were still half asleep and really just wanted to stay where you were.

“Come on, we need to get you home,” now he was chuckling as he offered you a hand up. You didn’t take it.

“Jus’ leave me, ‘m tired.”

“When was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”

“mmmmm…Friday?”

“It’s Thursday.”

“I know…”

“Come on now…y/n? Y/n!” He sighed, you’d fallen back to sleep. He tried shaking your shoulder again but this time it didn’t do anything to stir you. He thought for a moment. He couldn’t exactly leave you here- no that wouldn’t do. Unfortunately, you were terribly stubborn and refused to live on school grounds unlike most of the teachers at the academy. You claimed it made you feel too much like a student. This normally wouldn’t have bothered him, except he couldn’t remember where you lived, and honestly he wasn’t about to let you drive home even if he could get you awake again. That didn’t leave him with many options. 

“I knew I should have made her take more days off after that mission.” Ozpin muttered as he picked up your bag, “Well, I suppose there’s only one course of action to take.” and then he lifted you into his arms bridal style. He exited the classroom, locking the door behind him. As he was walking towards the teacher’s wing he looked down at you and smiled, “She’s so pretty when she’s relaxed like this…wait…what?” he sighed as he reached the doors to the wing.

When he arrived at the headmaster’s quarters, he carried you in and set you on his bed (he only had one bedroom and he wasn’t about to make you sleep on the couch. No, he would take the couch, that was only polite.) He carefully took your shoes off and then set your bag by them at the foot of the bed, then he pulled the covers over you and tucked you in. He leaned down and whispered “Goodnight, Y/n,” before pressing a quick kiss to your hairline. He stood up to leave, but stopped as you realized that you had wrapped your hand around his wrist and wouldn’t let go. Your eyes were still closed, but you mumbled, “Stay with me,” in a voice that was sleepy and adorable and just too challenging to deny, and, to be perfectly honest, it wasn’t as though Ozpin needed that much convincing anyways. He crawled in behind you, and since his hand was still firmly in your grasp, his arm wound up being draped over your waist. It didn’t take long for him to fall into the same deep sleep you were already in. 

                                                     ~~~~~~~~~~

Ozpin almost never needed an alarm as he naturally woke up quite early. When he did come round, the first thing that he registered was the fact that there was someone else in bed next to him, and then that they had beautiful (h/c) hair, and then what had happened last night came flooding back to him. He blushed, furiously. You had shifted in your sleep so that you were practically on top of him, which felt disconcertingly nice, and somehow very right, but it was also not exactly professional, and you were still only friends after all and what would you think of him taking you back to his rooms while you were asleep? Would you be angry? Had he been wrong not to just let you sleep in your classroom? He snapped away from his thoughts when you stirred slightly and snuggled closer to him in your sleep (if that was even possible). He looked down at you and smiled. He shifted slightly, careful not to wake you and grabbed his scroll from where it rested on the bedside table. He messaged Glinda to say that he would be coming in late this morning and marked you as sick and set up someone to cover your classes. Then, he gently got out from under you. He didn’t wake you, but you did frown a bit at the loss of proximity. He had to hold back a chuckle, you were so cute when you pouted. Yet, being that you’d decided that work was more important than sleep, Ozpin figured that you had also probably not eaten a proper meal in the last few days, so he was determined to cook you something wholesome. 

You opened your eyes slowly, to find the sun shining through the window. You took in the mahogany paneling, and green curtains and bedsheets. You realized that you were in what was quite probably the comfiest bed you had ever slept in, and that it smelled wonderfully like Ozpin and that…wait. Where were you? You’d never been here, and the last thing you remembered was grading papers, and then…oh. Ozpin. Waking you up. He must have- but, what, taken you back to his rooms? No. He’s kind, and you two are very close, but, certainly he would have just woken you and walked you to your car or something; not let you stay over at his place. That was when you smelled it. Y/f/b. “No way,” you smiled to yourself, “No way Ozpin is actually cooking. And since when does he remember what my favorite breakfast is?” You decided that this needed some investigating. If Ozpin had been faking not being able to cook, you were never going to let him live it down. 

You slowly got out of bed and stretched, yawning slightly. That was the best night’s rest that you’d had in…well, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d slept so well. You walked lazily towards where the smell seemed to be coming from. You rounded the corner to the kitchen to see a reasonably stressed Ozpin attempting to cook y/f/b. You smiled. He looked absolutely adorable. His brows were knit together as he tried not to burn anything. He nearly jumped out of his skin when you spoke: “So… You can cook. Since when??” you smirked, and he met your eyes with a glint in his own. 

“I wouldn’t exactly say that this qualifies as knowing how to cook,” he quickly looked down as something splattered.

You chuckled taking a few steps forward until you were standing next to him behind the counter, “Let me?”.

He nodded gratefully and stepped aside to let you take over. That was when you saw the clock, and that it read 10:10. “Oh my Gods, Oz we should both be at work!”

He chuckled, “Don’t worry, I marked you as sick and got someone to cover your classes, and I told Glinda that I would come in this afternoon. 

“Mmm, and who exactly is covering my classes?”

“Erm,” Ozpin visibly cringed, “Qrow?”

“Oh no. Oh no. No way am I leaving him to cover my classes. Oz how could you? I’m going, right now.” You started to walk back towards the bedroom, where your things were.

“Oh no you’re not,” Ozpin’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back to him before you could get away. You tried your best not to blush as he held you against him. He locked eyes with you, “When I found you yesterday I couldn’t even wake you up you were so exhausted. Y/n, you need the day off, please just take it.”

You sighed and looked over at the food that was still cooking on the stove. You knew he was right, and, honestly, Qrow probably couldn’t do that much damage in a single day. 

“Alright, but if Qrow messes up my classroom I’ll never forgive you for convincing me to leave it unattended.”

Ozpin, never actually wound up heading to his office, and you were far too pleased about it. Instead you two spent a very relaxing day together, which was really something that you both needed. There were a lot of movies, cards, and general shenanigans. Neither of you realized how late it had gotten until you got a text from one of your room-mates. 

“Hey Y/n, just saw that you didn’t come home last night. (we all figured you might be having some fun) but you still aren’t back. You ok?”

You looked at the clock, it was nearly nine. You quickly responded that you’d just wound up staying at a friend’s house and that you were fine. 

“Oz, it’s getting late, I should really head home.”

“Ah, I suppose it is. I…um… it was nice spending time with you, although I hope I never have to carry you back to my rooms because you’re so sleep deprived I can’t even wake you up ever again.” 

“I’ll try not to let that happen, maybe I should just move into a room in the school just in case I ever need it,” you laughed lightly.

“You and I both know that I think that’s a good idea. In fact…” he pulled out his scroll, “I’ll sort that out right now.”

“Sounds good Oz. I’ll see you tomorrow,” You smiled at him as you both walked towards the door.

“See you then,” He smiled back as you stepped outside.

“Oh and Oz,” You turned back as he looked up, a little surprised.

“Yes?”

“Thanks for everything.”

“It was really a pleasure y/n. Now drive safe.”

“Will do,” and with that you turned and walked down the hallway.

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Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it!

-ahsokaoswin 

#ozpin x reader #ozpin #rwby #rwbyxreader #fluff #probably bad #bearwithme

[queenmylovely]

The Law of Attraction i

Summary: John deacon x fem!reader. Your first week of classes with Professor Deacon.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: little bit of awkwardness, cussing (probably)

A/N: This is the first part of a probably miniseries or two-parter to fill the request I got. I just am incapable of not writing some backstory I guess. Side note: this takes place in the present but John is in his late 30′s. For you, anon, don’t worry, spicy things are coming soon! I hope you all enjoy, and any feedback including likes, replies, reblogs and asks are greatly appreciated! Requests are open!

Request: idk if you write for prof!deaky but like… i’d be so down for that. 

Part ii, Part iii*, Masterlist 

(look at this picture, what the fuck)

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In your junior year of university, you had finally decided on your major after switching between math and physics. You had definitively chosen electrical engineering. While you had enjoyed math and physics, they were much too focused on theoretical equations than on real-world objects, which is where you found most of your interest.

The problem solving and designing aspects of electrical engineering were what had appealed to you the most. You could plug input into equations and get the correct answers in your sleep, so creating was what would challenge you in the way you wanted to be.

Since you had taken all of the math and physics prerequisites already, you were able to jump straight into the engineering classes and labs right away in the fall of your junior year. When you had registered in the spring prior, you had wanted to keep two days empty so that you could have days free for your part-time job at the admin office. This had somehow ended up in you having five classes between three different professors. Two of the professors you had only one class each with, which meant you had three classes with the same professor. Your days off from classes had landed on Mondays and Fridays, which you thought would be good bookends to your pretty heavy Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Plus, the admin job would be good for starting and/or finishing homework when it was slow.

_____

The first Monday of the semester was spent getting a quick brief on your duties as administrative assistant. It seemed like it would be pretty simple; answering phones, putting appointments into the computer’s calendar, scheduling tours, and directing people to the correct offices around campus. They also said that you were free to do homework in your down time.

That Monday was pretty busy though, which was okay since you didn’t have any homework aside from printing out the syllabus. (Which you might have used the office printer to do.)

You had some pretty frantic-looking students asking questions about how to change their classes or where to find their professor’s office. Since you were a junior and had changed your major twice, you were pretty fluent with all of the forms and were able to answer their questions easily. You went home around 5:00, which, with the hour lunch, made for an eight hour day. Since you were taking 16 engineering credits, you felt pretty good with working 16 hour weeks.

Tuesday you started with a System Modeling and Control class that was 75 minutes long, and started at 9:00. The professor seemed nice, which was good, but you were more worried about the professor you had later that day since he was the one you had three classes with. Two of which were labs of no more than 25 students. First, though, you had an Electromagnetic Theory lecture with him on Tuesday and Thursdays.

The class was at 10:30, which meant you had fifteen minutes to walk down the hall from your first class. You figured you would at least get a good seat.

Walking from room 215, you counted the numbers on either side of the hall until you reached 220. The door was cracked open with a rubber door stop and you looked through the crack to see that it was empty. There must not have been a class in there yet. You pushed the door open and walked in, seeing there were actually a couple people there on the edges. The room was lecture style, but pretty small with only four rows with 10 seats each going up from the floor. There was a lectern in the middle of three blackboards that had been wiped completely clean. You nodded at the other students as they looked up at you, but chose to sit in the middle of the front row. Since you were probably getting a later start to electrical engineering than most, you wanted to be front and center to absorb as much information as possible. And perhaps you were a bit of a teacher’s pet at times.

You pulled out the fresh, three subject, college ruled, spiral notebook you had gotten for this course and a mechanical pencil. Labeling the first page “Electromagnetic Theory,” you then flipped the page and wrote the date. You also took out the syllabus for the class and skimmed over it again while you waited for the professor and the rest of the class to get there.

Students slowly trickled in, most opting for the edges of the room and a couple joining you in the front row, but still near the sides. Once it hit 20 past, the professor walked in. He was on the taller side, a man in his late thirties from what you could tell, with brown hair that was shorter on the sides and longer and kind of curly on top. He was pretty handsome, in kind of a dorky way. He was wearing a plaid button down shirt tucked into jeans with a black belt and dad sneakers. You giggled at that last part and found your eyes drifting to his left hand to see if there was a ring there. There wasn’t. You shook your head slightly at yourself. He was your professor, and your professor with who you will be spending over five hours a week, and a crush will not make it any easier to learn, you had to remind yourself.

Just before class started, a rush of ten students came in at once, and one finally filled the spot next to yours. The two of you said hi and exchanged names (hers was Sarah), and were starting to talk about majors until you heard a loud scraping sound. The class turned their heads to the front of the room to see the professor pushing the lectern all the way against the wall. He finished and faced forward, noticing that the class had its eyes on him.

“Well, since I’ve got your attention, I might as well start,” he said with a smile and the class chuckled. “As it says in your syllabus, I am Professor Deacon, but as I know some of you know by your familiar faces, I am often referred to as ‘Deaky,’” he said, putting air quotes around the nickname, which earned another laugh.

“You can call me whichever you prefer, because I really don’t care. Alright, so obviously this is the class for Electromagnetic Theory, so if you’re in the wrong room, go ahead and leave now, we won’t judge,” he paused for a second and when no one moved, continued. “Good, we can get started.”

That first class was spent going through the syllabus mostly, and outlining the type of assignments and materials everyone would need for the course. He had a pretty dry sense of humor, and cracked jokes throughout the class, which helped to put everyone at ease. That being said, it seemed like it would be a very technical and involved class, and the assignments would require a lot of time and were process-heavy. Professor Deacon highly encouraged using his office hours for help or to answer any questions, and you made sure to highlight when they were on your syllabus.

When the class came to an end and everyone was packing up, you chatted to Sarah about it.

“Have you had Professor Deacon before?” you asked her.

“Oh, yeah, I had him for Introduction to Electric Circuits my freshman year. He’s a nice guy, and not too tough a grader. Everyone does really call him Deaky, just so you know,” she answered with a smile.

You nodded, “Good to know.”

She left for her next class and you said goodbye to each other before you walked down to the front of the class where Professor Deacon was.

He was writing something down in a little agenda and you stood waiting for him to finish when he looked up and saw you. “Hello,” he said cheerfully.

“Hi. I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, extending your hand for a handshake. His hand met yours and shook it firmly, and you didn’t miss how warm it was against yours. “I just wanted to introduce myself because I’ll be in both of your labs tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s you. I had noticed that there was a student on all three of my rosters. Did I have a really good rating on ratemyprofessor?” he joked.

You laughed lightly and responded, “I couldn’t say. I just declared as Electrical Engineering at the end of last semester, so I have some catching up to do.”

“Really? Most people would have a lot of prereqs to get through first. What was your major before?” he asked warmly.

“Well, first it was math my freshman year and then it was physics last year,” you explained a bit sheepishly.

Professor Deacon didn’t seem to think there was anything unusual about changing your major three times however, and just smiled a toothy smile and said, “Ah, that makes sense. Well, welcome to the department, and I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Thank you. See you tomorrow,” you smiled back before turning around and walking out the door. You were relieved that the professor you would be seeing so much of this semester was nice, although weren’t sure you would be able to bring yourself to call him Deaky.

_____

The syllabus for the labs had said to only bring a folder, pen or pencil, and to wear at least short sleeves, long pants, and closed toed shoes, all of which you had to be willing to get dirty. As you got ready in the morning, you pulled on a faded pair of jeans, a shirt you had used in the past when painting, and your old pair of tennis shoes. You grabbed a jacket to wear over your clothes as you walked through campus and headed out with just a shoulder bag instead of the backpack you normally took to class.

You drove over to campus and parked in the engineering building’s parking lot. You had bought the parking pass for that building since three of your classes were in it, but hadn’t realized that the engineering labs were in a different building on the other side of campus until the day before. You sighed as you turned your car off, knowing you had close to a twenty minute walk, but put on your headphones, turned on some good music, and started walking over.

The building was old and the cinder blocks were painted white, though you could tell from where it was peeling that it had had many coats over the years of varying colors. You had heard from someone in your Computer Science class (which was an hour after your first with Professor Deacon on Tuesdays and Thursdays) that the building used to be the main Engineering building until the university got an endowment for the new, fancy one. Looking at the building, you thought that it must have been pretty cramped since there were only three large rooms and four little ones, which had since been turned into professors’ offices and what could be called the lobby with a check-in desk and no one behind it. There were two offices for the professors whose names you didn’t recognize and they were both of the left side of the building, opposite of the labs. The last one was on the right side, in between the furthest lab and the “lobby” itself, and had a nameplate labeled “John Deacon.”

Each of the lab rooms were designated for a different type of lab. Lab A was filled with cars and engines which you assumed was for mechanical or automotive engineering, Lab B was filled with drafting materials and models which you assumed was for civil engineering, and Lab C was filled with old computers and motors, which was exactly where you were supposed to be.

There were a couple people already in the room, milling about and chatting to each other. You were glad to see Sarah and went up to her to say hi. Looking around at everyone, the two of you laughed at how you all looked more like house painters than engineering students.

“I’m not entirely sure how our clothes would get dirty, but I guess it’s better safe than sorry,” she commented to you.

“I don’t know, maybe if we accidentally blow something up or it catches on fire, the smoot won’t ruin our clothes?” you guessed and the two of you laughed.

“I for one, wasn’t planning on any explosions, but I guess I know to keep a close eye on you now, Y/N,” said a voice from behind you on your right. Sarah and you whipped around to see Professor Deacon standing right there with a smirk on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and Sarah had to hide her giggles behind her hand.

“I-I’m- that was just a joke,” you stammered out.

“Hmmm, I guess we’ll see,” Professor Deacon said, walking to where there was a chalkboard at the front of the lab. Before he turned completely away, though, he shot you a wink that eased your nerves about the joke you made, but for some reason sent a shock of adrenaline (or something else) through your body at the same time.

The rest of the lab went better. Professor Deacon started with introductions of everyone since it was a smaller class and people should definitely know each other by the end of the semester. He then went over the lab and safety procedures, congratulating everyone for their proper attire. He himself was wearing these old carpenter pants that looked straight out of a 90’s catalogue and an oversized t-shirt that seemed like it was a souvenir from Bali but had grease stains all over it. And he was wearing the same sneakers as the day before. You couldn’t help but think it was kinda cute that he wore the same sneakers all the time.

He also took everyone on a little tour of the lab building, starting with Lab A and B briefly and then a more indepth look at a room only accessible through the rear of the building. It was a storage/equipment room that housed a bunch of scrap metal, lumber, spare parts, abandoned student projects, and tools. Everything in there was for free use of students of all labs to work on their projects and the projects for the department. To a bunch of engineering students, it was a treasure trove.

Finally, he took everyone back to Lab C and pointed out all of the stations and larger equipment in the big room. After the tour, he had everyone do a little exercise with some of the tools to get acquainted with them. By the time everyone had completed the exercise, the two hours and forty-five had pretty much elapsed and Professor Deacon let everyone head out a little early.

Of course, since you were in his next lab that took place in 15 minutes, you stayed. And, it seemed that you were the only one in both of these labs, so you stood around awkwardly as everyone left. You were about to grab your phone from your pocket when you heard his voice.

“So you didn’t blow anything up, I’m relieved,” he teased from behind you.

You turned around to see him smirking yet again and laughed lightly before replying, “I mean, it’s only been the first part of the first day so I wouldn’t take your eyes off me just yet.”

There was a beat when both of you realized what that sounded like and you saw Professor Deacon’s ears get pink as you felt your neck heat up. Your eyes widened and you determinedly did not make eye contact.

Trying to relieve the tension, he cleared his throat and said, “Anyway, I’m sorry, but you’re about to have the same exact lab in 15 minutes. I would say you could leave but then you wouldn’t meet everyone else, and there are a couple different things that I talk about.”

You were glad that he changed the subject, and further tried to get things back to normal, “That’s okay. I’ll have a leg up on everyone when we try out the equipment.”

The two of you laughed, and you couldn’t help noticing what a nice laugh he had, “That’s the spirit. They’ll be baffled at your ability to use the air compressor slightly better than they can.”

“Hey, I was the best and fastest in the class just now. It might not have been a competition, but you know it’s true,” you said, still smiling, but pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“You’re very passionate. I like that in a… student,” he said, matching your intense gaze. Neither of you had time to think about his hesitation before saying “student” because a group of your classmates walked in at that moment.

Looking down at his watch, he noticed that it was only five minutes before class started, and he walked away, giving you a nod, to go grab the lab rules handouts.

You watched him walk away and sighed to yourself. It seemed the crush you were trying to fend off wasn’t going anywhere, and with all this time spent with him, was only continuing to grow.

💥💥💥

Taglist: @somekindof-cheese @gwilyoubemine @deacytits @supersonicfreddie @siriuslovesmarlene @bowiequeen @acdeaky @deakysgirl @sunflower-borhap-boys @deakyfordays @queensilveryrog @happy-at-home @ceruleanrainblues @briarrose26 @bensrhapsody @painkiller80 

I just kinda created this taglist so if you would like to be taken off or added, just send me a message or ask!

Reminder that my requests are open! If you would like something in a sort of one shot format/length or blurb, etc. send it in! I’ll write for any of the Borhap or Queen boys (Freddie only platonically), Lucy, Patrick Murray, Gardner Langway and adult!Tim Murphy or possibly any of the other characters these people have played if I know enough about them!

#im real excited for the next part #ill have another request thing coming out first though #queen #john deacon #deaky #fic #fluff #queen x reader #john deacon x reader #john deacy #john deaky #deacy #deaky x reader #deacy x reader

[shipping-receiving]

Fictober 2019 Day 27: “Can you wait for me?”

Rating: T | Word Count: 3413 Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire / Game of Thrones Relationship: Jaime Lannister / Brienne of Tarth Tags: Alternate Universe – Office Notes: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

(read on AO3)

//////

All of a sudden, Brienne thinks she might have a boyfriend.

They haven’t talked about it—the word. The status. But she thinks she might have one.

It’s been just over a week since her very first date. Her very first kiss. Her very first time having a man over to her apartment for the purpose of kissing. Her very first time being at his apartment, which wasn’t supposed to be for the purpose of kissing, but became a location at which they had kissed, nonetheless. People don’t have boyfriends within a week of doing all those things, do they?

But it feels like she might have one.

She’s not seeing anyone else, obviously. And she knows he’s not, at least not in the past week, because—well, they’ve been together almost all the time. Unless he went on dates after work last Monday and Tuesday. Or in the middle of the night. Or after they had breakfast on Saturday, or before he was at her apartment on Sunday afternoon. Or maybe on Sunday night. Or those couple of times he went out for business meetings. But one of those times he took his assistant. He could be dating his assistant? But Peck is dating Pia in accounting, isn’t he?

Anyway, she supposes all those scenarios are plausible. But it sounds quite tiring for him, in her opinion, if Jaime is really doing any or all of that. And he probably wouldn’t have sent her sad face emojis on Monday evening, when she left for the gym in a hurry, right after work. She just—she needed some time to herself, to internalise everything. When she checked her phone after, she found that he had also texted her, I have a gym in my building, if you ever need to use it. That isn’t something you’d text someone if you were dating people in addition to that someone, right?

Then, on Tuesday morning, she had actually given Jaime advance notice about going over to Margaery’s that evening. Which is something they do now, apparently—tell each other about their schedules. It’s not that she was avoiding him per se, though she did feel guilty when he sent her a sad face emoji again, the one with the single tear. But Brienne just needed someone to be there in front of her—so she could externalise everything, this time—and Margaery told her Loras wasn’t going to be home that evening. So Brienne went over, told Margaery all that had happened since, Gods, since two days before, and sat through an indecent amount of shrieking in the process. She had to make Margaery promise not to do any of that shrieking without Brienne present, not even to her brother, and not to Renly.

She especially couldn’t do any of that shrieking in the office.

On Wednesday, and Thursday, and Friday, however, Jaime was all—See you after work? or Going to the gym tonight, wanna join? or Come by later. I’ll cook dinner. She had said yes to all of those things, even the last one, though she had been very suspicious of Jaime’s culinary skills considering he only had a single almost-empty container of milk on Monday morning. But he managed, something simple that still tasted wonderful, more wonderful because he had cooked it specially for her.

And then there was wine.

And then more kissing.

And then she slept on his couch this time, in the clothes she lent him when he slept on hers. He hadn’t asked her to share his bed—she had this feeling that he wanted to ask, even though he didn’t— but he had offered to sleep on the couch so she could have the bed all to herself. She said no, I couldn’t possibly, and he said please, you’re my guest, and they went back and forth about it for far too long, until she decided to just lie down on the couch and not move. He laughed in defeat, and had the concierge send up an extra blanket.

In the morning, he drove her back home. They had breakfast together for the very first time.

At the office, though, for this first week after their first date—Brienne didn’t know what to do. How to act. Jaime still came by her desk, but now there was something different to his smile, the way he said her name. It was this, this undercurrent of—I know. I know what it feels like to have your lips on mine. And she knew the same, could barely look in his eyes because she knew. It was because she knew that she felt she could no longer dance with him. She stopped walking by his office.

By Wednesday, he’d noticed. When he walked by her cubicle, smiled at her, said her name, it now had an undercurrent of—Where have you been? Dance with me, Brienne. What’s wrong with a little dance? But he didn’t bring it up on Wednesday evening, or Thursday evening, or Friday evening.

When she woke up on his couch, realised it was a Saturday morning, she felt awash with an immense relief. It was ridiculous, this relief of Saturday, as if she had survived some perilous ordeal. But it was just five days of—of working in the same office as the man who might be her boyfriend. The man who is also, technically, her boss. On the scale of ordeals, this was hardly perilous at all. But she felt the tension leave her body all the same, at the realisation of the significance of a Saturday. There wouldn’t be a need to step into the office on a Saturday. There wouldn’t be a dance. Jaime was there by her side, anyway—on Saturday morning, on Sunday afternoon.

The second Monday after their first date, Brienne decided Mondays would always be her night to go to the gym on her own. She told Jaime so in no uncertain terms. She wanted to see him, she did—out of his suit and his slicked back hair—yet something in her told her it would be good to have that one night to herself, every single week. She would go to the gym where she actually had a membership, not to the gym in his apartment building. Although she had to admit that his gym was really, really, really nice.

But today—today is Tuesday. She’s sitting at her cubicle on a Tuesday morning, has no plans with Margaery tonight, has no plans with anyone. And now she has the option of having plans with Jaime, who might be her boyfriend.

Right on cue, he texts her: Do you have plans tonight?

No, she types, then thinks. She follows with, Movie? They haven’t gone for a movie yet. That’s something people do on dates, isn’t it?

Sounds good, he replies. She notices he’s typing his next message for a while. When she receives it, it says: Which cinema?

Which cinema? There’s one just down the street, and another about fifteen minutes walk away. She’s seen colleagues at both of those. They could go to the one that’s nearest to her apartment, but he’d have to drive all the way there in traffic. And where would he pick her up? Would she wait for him outside his apartment building? There’s also the one that’s about halfway in between here and the office. It’s not too far from the train station. Would she take the train, and have him drive there? That seems safe, but also—she doesn’t think Jaime would be pleased about that. They could take the train together, she supposes, or maybe—she’d leave first, and he’d follow—Gods, does he even know how public transport works? She actually doesn’t know the answer to that question. Would he get lost?

And just like that, one question became a hundred. She’s still holding onto her phone, looking at different cinemas on the map, trying to work out all possible permutations of watching a movie with Jaime in public, when he walks by her cubicle.

“Brienne,” he greets, and pauses at her cubicle. He doesn’t—he’s not supposed to pause. His eyes dart to her phone.

“Jaime,” she replies, keeping her voice steady as she can. Margaery’s chair is rotating towards them—Brienne can see it out of the corner of her eye—and she glares at Jaime. Keep walking, she tries to communicate with her eyes. He looks at her for a few more seconds, then walks away.

She immediately opens her messaging app and types, I’ll let you know later. I’m looking up the timings. Deciding on the venue is part of looking up the timings, isn’t it?

Jaime starts typing, stops, starts typing again. But when his message arrives, all it says is, Okay.

Then, Brienne gets an important email. And another, and another. She has to reply to all of those important emails. It’s just a cinema—it’s just movie timings—but isn’t there so much to do? She has so much to do. She has to eat lunch at her desk, she has too much to do. Next thing she knows it’s four-thirty in the afternoon, and her phone vibrates with another text from Jaime.

It’s looking like I’ll have to work late. Don’t think I can do a movie, but would still like to have dinner. Can you wait for me?

Well, I guess that solves the cinema problem, Brienne thinks, though she knows it doesn’t. The cinema problem will continue to exist. They can’t just—avoid movies. But what would it look like—the employee going for movies with her boss, whom the employee had punched? The employee who didn’t lose her job after, because of that boss? Which cinema? is just another way of asking What would it look like? And they hadn’t figured out the answer to that question at all.

But she doesn’t say any of that. Of course, Brienne replies. Have some work to finish up, too. I’ll be at my desk.

At five, Renly comes by her cubicle to invite her for post-work drinks. She declines.

At six, Margaery asks, “Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” Brienne says, “No, too much work to do,” but she looks pointedly in the direction of Jaime’s office anyway. Margaery just nods and flashes her a grin. Brienne returns that grin with a weak smile.

At seven, there are just a few people left in the office. Brienne stands up, on the pretext of stretching after a day sitting at her desk, walks to where she can see the entrance to Jaime’s office. The lights are still switched on. Not that she expected otherwise.

At eight, her phone lights up with: Twenty minutes, I promise. There’s one, maybe two people left that she can see, and they’re packing up to leave for the day.

Why don’t I go get takeout? she texts back. Meet you at your place at 8.30?

Sure, he says. Anything’s good, as long as it isn’t spicy.

Brienne thinks of shrimp dipped in hot sauce and smiles.

At eight-thirty, Brienne sits herself down on a bench in the lobby of Jaime’s apartment building, two bags of takeout beside her. She nods at the man sitting at the concierge, who’s seen her with Jaime three times already in the past week, as did the doorman who very kindly let her in. At eight-forty, Jaime bursts through the main doors.

“I’m so sorry.” He leans down to kiss her on the cheek, to Brienne’s surprise. He hasn’t kissed her in public before, even if just on the cheek, even if this is just the lobby of Jaime’s apartment building. “You must be starving.”

“Oh—it’s fine,” she says, still a little stunned. “Sorry you had to work late.”

“Yeah. Had to go through some contracts. Sometimes that takes me awhile.”

Brienne wants to ask Jaime what that means, why going through contracts might take awhile for him specifically. But he’s already picked up the takeout bags and held out his hand, so she takes it and follows him into the elevator.

They put on a movie while they eat, something they’ve both been planning to watch but haven’t gotten around to, and Brienne can’t help but think this is much safer than a cinema. The movie isn’t as good as they had hoped, not even bad enough for them to rant about—it’s just so much more ordinary than they had expected. But they agree to sit through the whole thing anyway.

When they’re done with their food, Jaime puts his arm around her, and she curls into his side. It’s something she never imagined she could do—curling into a man’s side—and it’s not exactly the most comfortable position in the world for someone built like her, but she does it anyway. They’re both still in their work clothes, of course, but Jaime’s taken off his jacket and tie, unbuttoned a couple of buttons. Most importantly, he’s rolled his sleeves up past his elbows. Brienne wraps her hand around his arm absently.

“You like doing that,” Jaime murmurs, his eyes still on the TV.

“Hmm?”

“Touching me there.”

Brienne pulls her hand back. “Should I not?”

“I don’t mind,” he says. “Just an observation.”

She finds she can’t touch him there now, though he’s said he doesn’t mind. She folds her hands in her lap, stares straight at the TV. “I just—they’re nice.”

“My forearms?” he asks, bemused.

“Yeah. Is that creepy?”

Jaime laughs. “No, I’m flattered. I like them too.”

Brienne rolls her eyes. “Of course you do,” she mutters, feels Jaime’s low chuckle travel from his body into hers. She leaves her hands in her lap.

It’s only when the movie ends that Brienne thinks to look at the time. “Oh fuck, it’s late,” she exclaims, jumping up from his couch. “I hope I can still catch the train.”

“I’ll drive you home,” Jaime offers.

“It’s too far. It’ll be past twelve—maybe almost one by the time you get back.”

“I could—” and then he falls silent. “It’s fine,” he says instead. “I’ll drive you.”

What was that? “Hold on—what were you going to say?”

“I was going to say—” Jaime looks somewhat sheepish. “I was going to say I could stay over. Then I could drive you to work tomorrow, too. Or drop you off somewhere, if you—if you don’t want us to be seen together.”

“Oh.” Oh. “But you’d have to sleep on the—”

“I don’t mind. Only if you don’t mind.”

“I, I don’t mind. Would we need to leave at six, though?” It was fine that one time, and she usually has to be up by six forty-five anyway, but she’d definitely appreciate that extra bit of sleep.

“I could—I could bring my clothes. Get ready at yours. If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.”

Okay then. Since neither of them seemed to mind any part of this arrangement, Brienne finds herself in Jaime’s car, driving back to her place past eleven at night. As she looks out the window, the height of the buildings getting shorter and shorter as they travel towards the outskirts of the city, she thinks, once again, that Jaime really might be her boyfriend. She supposes today counts as their sixth date. Or seventh, if she includes the breakfast on Saturday morning, though it was really sort of an extension from Friday night. All of that in—what, ten days.

“Did you figure out which cinema, in the end?” Jaime asks abruptly, when he stops at a red light.

“What?”

“Which cinema would we have gone to? If I didn’t have to work late?”

“Oh—I—I got caught up with work—”

“Oh.”

Brienne sighs, looks down at her hands. “The truth is, I didn’t know which one to pick, Jaime. I was freaking out about who would see us, if we went to the ones within walking distance of the office, and then it seemed like too far to go to the one near my apartment, although I guess we’re heading there now anyway so I suppose I could have picked that—”

“Brienne—”

“Sorry. I’m rambling. It’s stupid.”

“No—it’s fine.” The light turns green, and Jaime accelerates just a little too quickly. “I just wanted to say—I’d like to watch a movie with you. At a cinema, in public. I’d like to do that with you at some point, without having to worry. I’ll drive to the one in your neighbourhood, if that’s what you’d prefer. But still, I think—this is—it’s something we need to sort out. Being seen.”

“I know,” Brienne mumbles.

“I know I said I’d work something out but—is there anything to figure out, really? Are we doing anything wrong?”

“No—I suppose not. But people will talk, anyway.” Brienne picks at her fingernails, thinks of how she came to punch Jaime in the first place, thinks of Brienne the Beauty.

“I—it’s not that I don’t understand it, but—does it matter?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think we’ll know if it matters until they start talking.” She’s always tried to brush off people’s words, but—has it ever really worked? Truly worked? Haven’t those words always found ways to burrow underneath her skin, stay there?

“We can’t hide forever,” is Jaime’s response.

Brienne looks over at him. Jaime’s eyes are still firmly on the road. Forever. Isn’t it too soon for words like that? Yet, Jaime’s about to stay over at her apartment again, for the second time in ten days. He has a change of clothes in his back seat. He’ll be sleeping on the couch, but—he has a toothbrush waiting for him at her sink. How did this all happen? In ten days?

The rest of the drive is quiet. So is the walk from the car to her apartment, though Brienne holds his hand, anyway. He’s sitting on her couch, hands clasped together, when she brings her extra blanket out to him.

“Two months,” she announces, as she sets the blanket down beside him. Two months—it feels like a long time compared to ten days, but—

Jaime looks up at her. “Two months?”

“We… we keep it quiet for two months. Then—we’ll review the situation.” She doesn’t want to be so businesslike about it, but it’s best to have some kind of timeline. She thinks it’ll help Jaime feel settled, somehow, even if she is making him wait.

“Okay,” Jaime exhales. “Two months. If my father doesn’t—”

Oh. She forgot about that. She sits down next to him, slips her fingers between his. “We’ll assume he won’t. If he does, and we want to—to continue. Then we… work something out.”

“Okay. Two months.” He turns to look at her, grips her hand tighter. “Will you do something for me, Brienne? Will you—at least not treat me like a stranger? At work?”

“Oh—oh gods, I’m so sorry about that.” Brienne buries her face in Jaime’s arm. “I guess I just—I don’t know how to act around you now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I just think I’ll—I’ll smile too much or something.”

Brienne feels Jaime’s fingers brush her hair away from her face. “I wouldn’t mind that.” Gods, will he ever not make me blush?

“How about this.” She perches her chin on his shoulder. “I’ll promise to try not to treat you like a stranger. Is that good enough?”

“Hmm,” Jaime says, attempting to sound aloof and failing miserably. “We’ll see how you do this week. Then we can review the situation.”

Brienne gives him a playful nudge just before she stands back up. Her hand is still in his. “Goodnight, Jaime.”

“Goodnight, Brienne,” he replies. She takes a step away, two steps, but he won’t let go of her hand. As she rounds the couch, Brienne remembers the first morning she spent in Jaime’s apartment, waiting for him to get ready. She leans over, rests both their hands on his shoulder. “Please, for Gods’ sakes,” she whispers in his ear, “wake up early if you’re gonna spend an hour in the bathroom.”

“I will,” he smirks.

Brienne thinks for a moment, or stops herself from thinking, then gives him a kiss on the cheek, just as he had kissed hers in the lobby of his apartment building. She attempts to walk in the direction of her bedroom—except Jaime’s fingers are still entwined with hers.

“Goodnight, Jaime,” she repeats, looking meaningfully at their hands.

Jaime says nothing. He only brings her hand to his lips, kisses it like a knight of old, and lets her go.

#fictober19 #jaime x brienne #braime #my fic #i never knew home until i found your hands #my god this has been torturing me all day #i hope you like reading about brienne overthinking fucking EVERYTHING

[xpouii]

Tentacletober Day 19

Yes it’s late! Yes I skipped Day 18! Yes I’m very tired lol. This day is a sequel to Day 12--which is a sequel to Day 9. SO if you want to read the full series from the start, 9 then 12 then 19!

Prompt: Protective Tentacles

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Logan, Roman, Virgil, Remus

Warnings/Tags: SFW, Swearing, sleep issues, sleep deprivation, mentioned bulimia, mentioned seizures, mentioned hallucinations, mentioned sleepwalking, drug use, prescription medicine abuse, kissing, fainting, brief mentions of therapy, hospital stay and psychiatric evaluation. General apathy and sympathetic Remus

               Logan grabbed the doorknob and heard the maid shout his name; he winced and turned, “Sarah, I really don’t have time to-“

               She held up the dropper with a look of longsuffering. Logan opened his mouth and took the drops of CBD oil under his tongue before rushing out the door. He spat into the bushes, taking a sip of water and rinsing out his mouth as he crossed the large lawn, punching in the code to open the gate as he spat again. He climbed onto the bus and sat down, taking out his phone and checking the school’s portal. Mr. Stevenson still hadn’t graded the Calculus exams, and Logan grit his teeth, shoving his phone into his pocket. Even though his parents would never ask, Logan liked to have his grades updated and ready to show them when they came in on Wednesdays for dinner. He was starting to feel slowed, and he checked the time, firing off a text to Roman as he swallowed his last stashed Adderall, hoping his friend would have more today.

               Logan had a schedule, just enough Adderall to last him until Wednesday, then he’d leave his new batch in his locked cello case until Thursday when his parents would no longer be home all evening and search his room. Then he hauled the cello home for his weekend lessons and used the school loaner on Friday. His mother would bring him on Monday mornings so he could bring the cello back and store it in the band room. Or Tuesday, if his mother was busy with meetings, like this week. Anytime Roman didn’t manage to palm enough Adderall—which was often—Logan would turn to the three other rich kids with prescriptions that were willing to sell—or trade for pot; Logan would take several pills a day, as many as it took to keep withdrawals at bay, unless he actually managed to run out. Logan’s parents were scientists, but his mother had gone on a natural medicine kick when the therapists had given up. So now he had a weed card, and a mother obsessed with monitoring his sleep—very unnecessarily. Logan had done plenty of research on the best ways to skip sleep, and other than days when his parents—or the maid—would watch him to make sure he didn’t spit out his treatments, or when his mother decided to try some new pot baked goods or when his father would smoke with him in some odd attempt to make Logan feel like they were bonding as men.

               As infuriating as that was, it didn’t hold a candle to the way his mother would wail and beg him to sleep on the weekends. Ever since his first seizure she had been insufferable, unbearable in her smothering. Logan tried to be more careful now, keeping track of the Adderall and the CBD and the caffeine and the sleep he’d actually given in to. The seizures had been the first symptom of critical systems failure, but certainly not the worst. The hallucinations were bad, auditory worse than visual because Logan had a harder time dismissing them. Worst of all were the episodes where he’d black out, but his body would keep going. He’d broken through his bedroom window and rolled off the roof, falling down and cracking his left shoulder. Thank god for your mom’s azalea bushes! Sarah had shouted at him, watching him writhe in pain in the grass. The time he’d managed to scare her had been his most frightening time as well.

              Logan had come to in the kitchen with a knife in his hand. Sarah was curled on the floor between the island and the oven, screaming for him to stop with the kitchen phone in her hand. He dropped the knife and started crying. He wanted to go to her for comfort. Sarah had raised him, after all, and Logan was six before he’d finally learned not to call her mommy. He was the monster, though, the bad thing he was scared of—and she was even more scared than he was. So, he turned around and went to his room, crying at his desk until the police and paramedics showed up. He’d spent a week in the hospital under strict psychiatric observation then. Logan had slept for 36 hours straight, and woken up with tears in his eyes. Both of his parents had been there, the whole time, and even now Logan’s heart would tighten at the warmth of the memory, waking up to their hugs and kisses and smiles.

              Logan was pulled out of his nostalgia when his phone pinged. His mother’s contact photo popped up on his phone over the text Have a good day, sweetie! See you tonight! I’m making dessert!

              Logan’s lip curled and he quickly checked his homework schedule, moving things around. His mother would definitely dose him tonight, which meant he’d sleep, and run behind. He would have exactly three hours from arriving home until his parents came in for dinner at 7 pm sharp. He could finish almost all of his homework, but the extra credit for Calculus 3 would have to wait until Thursday evening, pushing back his homework he planned to finish early in order to take a few hours off to watch Nasa’s livestream of the upcoming meteor shower. He swore under his breath. He hated missing the livestreams, especially when his parents would be bothering him about watching it. He wanted to, but he couldn’t fathom it now.

              He jumped when the bus stopped short and he had to throw out his hand to save his face from hitting the seat in front of him. He straightened his glasses and scowled up at the man in the mirror. Behind him a rowdy pair of girls started shouting obscenities, blaming the driver for interrupting their impromptu makeup session. Logan rolled his eyes, reminded of Roman and Virgil. The thought of his friends brought a genuine smile to his face. Although Logan was put on edge by the mere thought of sex, romance or—god forbid—love, he did wonder when his friends would admit their feelings for one another. Even his own mother had noticed their shameless heart eyes for one another during their last concert. Logan had tried to stop her from calling Virgil’s dads, but the woman never listened to him no matter how loudly he shouted. It was one of the biggest reasons Logan didn’t bother getting angry anymore, especially with his parents; it accomplished nothing and it wasted precious energy.

              A jab to the back of his head made him turn around, that well-hidden anger bubbling to the surface, but it dulled when he saw two of his usual suppliers had moved to the seat behind him. He glanced back to the usually inattentive driver and then dug in his backpack, producing the small parcels he usually divided his stash into for economical reasons. He set two between his feet and nudged them backwards, his eyes glued on the driver. A second later, the parcels were replaced with a pill bottle and he grabbed it, taking visual inventory of the total pills inside before shoving it into his backpack and zipping it. The two boys did the same, disappearing back into the proverbial crowd. The school was two stops away, and Logan had already gone back to calculating his homework time, and whether it would be worth skipping lunch or not. He decided against it—Roman probably wouldn’t eat, and Logan usually tried to get extra food for him at lunch, passing it to him during band and hoping Roman could end up trapped long enough to actually absorb some nutrients before purging everything again. It usually didn’t work, but sometimes the director was in a bad mood and he’d make Roman wait. Logan knew manipulating friends was technically wrong, but guilt wasn’t really something he participated in.

                 The hours went by fairly quickly until lunch; Roman had another Adderall for him and he saved it, swallowing it during third period Calculus when he decided to try and cram his extra credit in between taking lecture notes. Unlike the day before, Roman and Virgil attended lunch rather than smoking in the parking lot. Roman got a salad and a water while Virgil and Logan went for the cheeseburgers that were probably not made from actual meat, but they tasted brown, and they had cheese on them, and that was enough. They sat down at their table—avoided by most of the other students due to Logan’s snippiness. He was halfway through his food when Virgil choked on a bite, “Jesus L! Is that your heartbeat?”

               Logan looked down where his heartbeat was causing his shirt to tremble in time, a bit elevated, but not that bad for him. He scowled and moved his drink—a large canned energy drink—in front of him, “What about-what are you doing?!”

               Virgil had stood and pressed two fingers to the pulse point on Logan’s neck, “Hold still and be quiet.” He watched his phone timer until it beeped, “Two hundred bpm!”

               “No it isn’t,” Roman said, standing up to check.

               Logan sat sullenly as they double and then triple-checked their results, “It really is two hundred. Logan that’s too fast!” Virgil said. “When’s the last time you had an Adderall?”

               Logan opened his mouth, but he couldn’t remember, so he scoffed, “Stop overreacting. It’s no big deal anyway.”

               His throat was dry, and he tried to clear it, taking a slow swallow of his energy drink and waving them off. “Logan maybe you shouldn’t be-“

               “Just shut up, Roman!” Logan sniped, then he closed his mouth and pinched his nose shut, trying to force air out of his lungs. After twenty seconds, Logan moved his hand and let out a long, slow breath, smiling, “There, nothing a vagal maneuver can’t fix. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve lost my appetite.”

               Logan stood up and—without any warning—fainted.

                 Logan winced against the bright overhead lights, trying to blink away the blurriness, but he didn’t have his glasses. He could hear voices, distant and muddled. ”…-es, ma’am. His two friends are beside themselves. If it’s going to be a while would you mind if th… alright. Yes ma’am he’s asleep now, but unfortunately I can’t administer anything you haven’t given me here… CBD oil? No Mrs. Berry we don’t… yes ma’am I’ll tell him.”

              Logan squeezed his eyes closed as the curtain around his cot rustled and the nurse checked on him. “I know you’re awake, Mr. Berry. Your mother said your friends could come and sit with you until she gets here. The band director already gave them a pass. Feel like visitors?”

              Logan nodded, “’s bright.”

              “That’s what happens when you do whatever shit you’re doing and then wake up with a hangover in the nurse’s office,” the nurse said. “But, I’ll turn half the lights off. Just try not to get rowdy some of us still have to work.”

              Logan sighed, but he did smile a bit when the lights went out, only to jump as Virgil and Roman crowded in beside him, “Fuck, Logan you scared the shit out of me!” Virgil scolded.

              “How are you feeling?” Roman asked.

               “Mom’s on the way,” he rasped.

               “I got it,” Roman said. “I already took it all out of your bag.”

               Logan looked to see the nurse, but her desk was empty and she was standing in the hallway. Virgil glanced over, “She didn’t hear y-“

               “Give me one,” Logan said.

               Virgil shook his head, “Logan no fucking way! You just fainted!”

               Logan squeezed his eyes shut, “Please, I’m gonna have to go all week… maybe longer, please! Roman? Please?”

               Roman glanced at the nurse, then pulled the curtain, fumbling in his jacket pocket.

               “No!” Virgil hissed as Roman pulled out the bottle and offered it to Logan.

               “I c-can’t swallow it,” Logan said thickly. “Not whole.”

               Roman met Virgil’s eyes and ignored his expression of horrified disappointment. He popped two of the pills into his mouth and chewed it, wincing at the taste—though it was nothing compared to the things that he tasted on any given day. He gathered as much saliva as he could and then bent over Logan, pressing their lips together. Logan wrapped his arms around Roman’s neck to hold him in place, and he licked the Adderall out of Roman’s mouth like a dying man. The kiss was slow at first, mechanical, but it became something else as they stayed close, and soon Virgil was checking the nurse’s whereabouts again as the other two made out, Roman letting out little pleasant moans against Logan’s lips.

               Virgil cleared his throat loudly when the nurse returned, and Roman straightened, fixing his shirt. Logan closed his eyes again and waited for the meds to kick in a bit more. “How long til she gets here?”

               “Nurse said an hour,” Logan said. “Or that’s what I think she said. Mom’s got clinical trials today so it’s not something she can just leave.”

               “They should have sent you to a hospital, not left you here with your dealer,” Virgil growled, glaring daggers at Roman.

               Roman sighed as he pocketed the pills, “Look, I’ll keep these in my bag until I get to come see you, ok? Then I’ll leave them behind that loose siding under your window. Just don’t be stupid. Maybe this is a good opportunity to quit.”

               Logan wanted to argue, but his lips were still kiss swollen and the taste of Adderall soothed him, so he just nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

               “I love you,” Roman said, lifting Logan’s hand to kiss it, then he ducked out.

               “He’s just as bad as you are,” Virgil said. “For enabling you like that. I can’t stand it, Logan. I can’t stand what you two do to each other.”

               “Are you jealous?” Logan asked; his words were cold, but so was he, and the last thing he needed was a lecture.

               Virgil winced, “Fuck this,” he muttered. He turned and pushed the curtain out of the way, leaving the office—and Logan—in buzzing silence.

                 Logan woke up on Friday, late in the evening. His parents were home, judging from the voices downstairs, and he could remember faded scenes with them over the past two days. He’d missed school, missed band practice, missed the meteor shower and—judging from the raging head and body ache—enough Adderall to start withdrawal. He sighed and slid to the edge of the bed, sneaking over to his window. He’d just reached to open it when something grabbed his ankle in the dark, pulling him. He hit the carpet and was dragged, scrabbling uselessly at the carpet until suddenly he was on his stomach on smooth, cold stone. He squinted in the low light as he stumbled to his feet, until someone—or something—handed him his glasses. He quickly put them on and found himself standing in front of a stranger, “Hello?”

               “He was finally awake!”

               Virgil and Roman stepped out into the light and Logan took half a step back, “I’ve never hallucinated these two before,” he muttered to himself.

               “We aren’t hallucinations, Logan,” Roman said. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up all week.”

               “I didn’t really get the chance to tell you about Remus because you fainted at school and… well I took off. But he’s my friend.”

               “Our friend,” Roman said. “He’s been keeping us up all night pretty regularly. You should love him.”

               “By the way,” Remus said. “Whatever they have you on, those brownies are delicious. I stole five while waiting for you to wake up.”

               Virgil rolled his eyes but it was an affectionate gesture, “Glad to see you again, L. I’m… sorry I… whatever, I’m sorry.”

               Logan opened his mouth but Virgil stepped forward and hugged him, and as soon as Logan felt him, he knew he wasn’t hallucinating. “Virgil… I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have-“

               “Yeah what did you say to him?” Roman asked. “He was mad the whole night!”

               “Mind your business,” Logan said when Virgil’s cheeks turned red. “So um… Remus, huh? What is he?”

               “No idea,” Virgil said. “A monster from under my bed, but he said he can get us into the amusement park through the staff emergency sleeping quarters.”

               “Theoretically,” Roman reminded.

               “Close enough!” Remus said, clapping his hands together. “So, Logan, would you like to come on some potentially life threatening rides with us, without any security or safety measures taken?”

               Logan smiled when Virgil nudged him, “I guess so, as long as I don’t break my glasses.”

#tentacletober #logan sanders #sympathetic remus sanders #fanfiction #parasomnia #not safe for sanders

[yourdailykitsch]

Taylor Kitsch Predicts How Long Tim Riggins Would Last In His New Film “21 Bridges”

Warning: Taylor Kitsch’s character in his new movie 21 Bridges is absolutely brutal – and, for that, insanely watchable. The Friday Night Lights actor stars as Ray, an outlaw on the run from NYPD detective Andre Davis (Chadwick Boseman) in a film that nods to those pulpy cop movies of yesteryear – but operates at a far more thrilling pace.

Ray and his best friend Michael (played by Stephan James) are small-time thieves whose latest heist involving cocaine is interrupted by a bunch of police officers. When the only option to escape is to kill all the cops in their way, the boys are wanted men as Davis orders the city of Manhattan to be closed at every portal: all 21 bridges, three rivers, four tunnels and every train that leaves the island. “Loop the subways. Then we flood the island with Blue” says Andre.

A live-wire and maybe even a little bit psychotic, Ray keeps audiences on the edge of their seats for the entire film. Here, 38-year-old Kitsch talks to ICON about how his training with Navy SEALS helped inform Ray, how he kept his body in shape for the role and how he got into the head of a wild man.

ICON: A lot of the film was shot in Philadelphia and you came back and forth to New York to shoot. But it’s not your first time in Manhattan. You studied there when you were younger. What was your first experience with the city?

TAYLOR KITSCH: “Man, I come from a tiny town so I couldn’t believe how this little island of so many people worked. I love the energy, especially when you’re in your early 20s. That city tests you, man. It can either really beat you up and test you or elevate you. And I love that challenge that that city brings. From the people to running into so many different artists to people grinding, I loved it. I went there to study and it’s got its own energy, it’s an infectious city.”

ICON: There were NYPD offices on the set of 21 Bridges. How did their teachings marry up with your own Navy SEALS training to inform how you played Ray?

TK: “There’s these close quarter gun fights and they really helped ground that stuff. For me personally, it wasn’t so much in the weapons training but just the logistics part of it. Like where you would go for cover and the type of communication I would have with Stephan. That’s where they really left an impression on us. As you’ve said I’ve been trained by Navy SEALS so I was very comfortable with it.”

ICON: You can tell that you are. I feel like most of your scenes are shooting and running. How did you physically prepare for this role?

TK: “You try and come into a movie in your best shape. And then when you’re shooting during the night for seven or eight weeks, it can be really tough. This sounds like I’m playing the violin but when you’re going to work at 4pm and going to bed at 8am every day, six days a week – and then you wake up at 2pm and have an hour and a bit before you go back to set – it was more just upkeep. There wasn’t a ton of gym time for us. Or maybe I’m just fucking busy and I didn’t go much when we worked! You know, you’re going to work to run around and have that high energy so you just try to go to work in the best shape possible.”

ICON: Can you give us a breakdown of one of your most challenging scenes in 21 Bridges?

TK: “The thing is with those shoot-out scenes, we film them across five or six days. It takes that long because it’s super technical and you’re going through these safety meetings. I love the way [director Brian] Kirk shot this, it’s very engaging cinematography which I love – he’s right there with you. On day four of the same scene, you just have to keep that energy up. It’s life or death for 12 hours every night, you just have to find the energy to keep it going.”

ICON: Did you and Stephan get to bond before filming?

TK: “I got the job less than a week before we hit camera. I got on set on a Monday and I was on camera on Thursday so I didn’t really have any time. We got a day or two to go through the script with Brian and we went to the shooting range in NYC and hung out there a tonne and just chatted over lunches.”

ICON What was it like working with Chadwick Boseman?

TK: “I have one scene with him. He’s a really gracious guy, he’s very humble. He listens really well which is a great trait for any person on or off camera and he was always there if you ever needed it.”

ICON: Novelty question: How long do you think Tim Riggins would have lasted in this narrative before he was chased down by Andre Davis?

TK: “Oh man. Rigs knows how to use a gun. So I think he would be alright. I think he would last for a while and if it’s just him, probably pretty good. I’d give him good odds.”

ICON: Ray would literally do anything for Michael. Is there someone in your life that you would go to this level of extreme lengths for?

TK: “No. [Laughs]”

ICON: No one at all?

TK: “Oh of course. Probably a family member.”

ICON: [Laughs] I hope they read this.  What were the long days on the range like? You were shooting 500 rounds in the lead up to filming.

TK: “We had live fire which keeps you honest. Again, it was just like a refresher. Not to act like I’m some kind of armoury who knows exactly what’s going on with every gun out there but it was a refresher for me. There was a bit of, ‘Don’t point your gun at my face while we’re just chatting’ while working with Stephan [Laughs]. Just those little things, you have to remind each other. I just trained a buddy in Texas with a Glock and when they’re talking, they’re just like moving around and the muzzle is like crossing your body – and they are just unconscious about it. It’s important to be aware of where the gun is pointed at all times.”

ICON: When audiences go and see this film, what do you hope they take away from it?

TK: “This is a fictional, fun ride action film that’s kind of an ode to the ones I grew up with. I think there’s some really cool twists, the cast is amazing and the pace of this is a fast pace film with a lot of humanity in it too. To be blunt, I hope you’re just entertained and maybe it’ll get your heart racing a bit.”

ICON: Is this the genre that you want to stay in?

TK: “No. I love any and all, man. As long as the character and filmmaker are good. You never want to peg yourself into any genre, at least I don’t.”

ICON: What’s next for you?

TK: “I just finished an eight hour limited series called Shadow Play. It’s about detectives in New York City who come to Berlin to track down my brother who is killing a bunch of Nazi sympathisers six months after WWII. It’s a beautiful series, man. I also just signed onto to lead Neil Blomkamp’s next movie [Inferno].”

ICON: What did your training regime look like for 21 Bridges?

TK: “Eat as many cookies and milkshakes and fries as you can. Sleep, eat late, right before bed. Don’t do any running or weight-lifting. If you can get a pizza down in the middle of the night, that will serve you well. [Laughs]”

#taylor kitsch #21 bridges #interview #article #tim riggins

[chocoluckchipz-bag]

Unexpected Surprise - 14

Read it on A03, WattPad, FF.net

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Marinette could get used to the view - barely covered by a blanket Adrien sprawled on his bed in the perfect cuddling position. She scooted closer. His chiselled-by-workouts body, his gorgeous face, peaceful and calm in his slumber, messy hair splattered all over his pillow, the perfect, slightly open lips… Gently, she ran her fingers across his evenly rising and falling chest just as the first rays of sun peeked through the curtains. Adrien wriggled his nose and scrunched his face. The muscles on his chest twitched and murmuring under his breath, he twisted in his sleep, curling away from her and the sunlight. Marinette giggled. Yup, she could definitely get used to the view - gorgeous, but still adorable and dorky. She shifted closer again and rested her head on Adrien’s back, thanking the universe for the time zones - still living on the Parisian time was the sole reason Marinette was awake before six in the morning in NYC.

A beeping sound suddenly shattered the silence. Adrien groaned, his hand acting on its own as he shut the alarm off. Without opening his eyes, he turned back to Marinette and wrapped her in a hug.

“Morning,” he whispered, his voice deep and rusty from the slumber.

“It’s still fifteen minutes to six,” Marinette replied. “Didn’t you say you don’t have to wake up before six?”

“Yup.” Adrien yawned. “Get up at six. Fifteen minutes before- cuddle ceremony.” He pulled her closer, burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Mhhhh, you smell nice.”

Adrien’s hair tickling her skin, Marinette giggled as she wrapped her hands around him, placing a kiss on a top of his head. “Sounds perfect.”

They lingered in each other’s arms for a few minutes before Marinette asked. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Office. You. Escape the paparazzi.”

Another sound shrieked through the room, and Adrien groaned again, moving closer to Marinette. “Too early. I’m busy. Make it stop.”

“I would,” Marinette laughed. “But I’m currently being immobilized by a cuddle monster. Can’t move. You should’ve put your phone on Do Not Disturb.”

“It is on Do Not Disturb,” Adrien replied, opening his eyes. “Except Emma and you have an override privilege.” Pulling away, he reached for the device. “Yup. That’s her. Give me a few.” With a soft smile, Adrien picked up the call. “Morning, sweetheart. How are you? Me? Yes, of course, I'm already up- Momma? Yup. Right here- Okay.”

Adrien pressed the speaker mode and Emma’s chipper voice immediately filled the room as she dived straight away in telling them everything she’d done since her last call, starting with a new book Grandma Sabine had read her yesterday, finishing with exciting additions to the bakery’s breakfast menu she’d helped Grandpapi Tom to choose just now. Then it was Marinette and Adrien’s turn to explain what the two of them were planning to do today and when they heard Sabine call Emma’s name in the background, Adrien’s cell phone alarm went off again.

“I adore Emma to pieces,” Adrien admitted, wrapping Marinette into a hug as soon as Emma hung up. “But I’d love to have you all to myself from time to time.”

“Possessive, aren’t we?” Marinette teased. Laughing at his pout, she added. “Not judging you, though – I might be feeling the same way. Emma’s had my undivided attention for five years. I think it’s about time she learned to share.”

“Let’s hope she’s a good learner.”

“She is. That’s one of the things I love about her.”

“And I love you,” Adrien whispered, leaning closer for a lingering kiss, his hands cupping Marinette’s face. “Did you know you’re the best thing that had ever happened to me?”

“And you to me,” Marinette replied, pressing her lips to his collarbone. “Love you too.”

They shared a few more kisses and tender moments before Adrien glanced at the clock. “As heartbroken as I am but it’s time to get up, Princess,” he sighed. “However, since we’ve missed the ceremony, what would you say about an evening equivalent?”

“Sounds perfect,” Marinette replied with a chuckle, running her fingers through Adrien’s hair. “Now, let’s pretty you up, so you can finish this thing in style.”

Adrien smiled, pulling Marinette in. “You, on the other hand, look perfect already.”

“Flatterer.”

“Just an honest person.”

Swamped by everyday routine, their morning flew by fast. They’d helped each other with the wardrobe choices and cooked their breakfast together, all while deliberating the ways to keep the paparazzi off their track. Adrien departed for the office right after the meal, leaving Marinette to wait for Thomas, the company's driver. About an hour after he'd gone, the paparazzi at the front door largely vanished and Thomas, donning civilian clothes, came by to pick up Marinette in a less suspicious car than the company’s limousine. Per Adrien’s suggestion, he’d also brought her a disguise - a wig of rich brown waves with red highlights and the biggest pair of sunglasses Marinette had ever seen. Feeling playful, she styled the wig into her signature low ponytails, dressed in the brand-new pair of boyfriend jeans she had bought specifically for this trip and rummaged Adrien’s closet for a t-shirt that would fit her.

The effect it had on Adrien was worth the trouble. As he caught her sight of entering the office, his eyes instantly widened. Mouth slack and frozen in his place, Adrien swallowed before saying something to the person he’d been conversing with and leaving them without looking back.

“If you’re trying to kill me, you’ve succeeded,” he quietly said into her ear, giving her a welcome cheek kiss.

“Baseless accusations,” Marinette whispered back. “Just dressing according to my “Adrien’s girlfriend” mood.”

“I thought we were trying to hide you.”

“From paparazzi.” She shrugged. “As far as I know every employee at Gabriel's offices are under a non-disclosure agreement or am I wrong? Plus, don’t forget that I’m wearing a wig so even if someone will give me away, all I have to do is to wear a different wig tomorrow.”

Adrien chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s why you were Ladybug. Always thinking a step ahead.” Turning to face the people curiously staring at them from all over the room, he added, “Everyone, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng - one of the head designers at the main office, bursting with ideas, fearless, kind, gorgeous and simply an amazing person. If I get my way, my future wife, so, please, make her feel welcome and keep her identity under the wraps. I want her to enjoy NYC paparazzi-free.”

“Adrien,” Marinette yelped, feeling much hotter than just a second ago.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Just acting according to my ‘I’ve moved a few steps closer to my goal’ mood.”

“Dork,” she puffed.

“Yours,” he grinned. “Now, come on. Let me introduce you to the people Father mentioned in your ‘instructions’.”

The rest of the day went relatively smoothly. While they spent most of it together, there were a few moments where Marinette explored the office by herself, devoting most time to the designer department, observing, giving advice, taking notes and sketching the new ideas in her sketchbook. To avoid the media, Adrien asked Thomas, their driver, to get their food delivered to the office. When the evening came, he offered her a choice.

“I’ve got three days left of work at the office - today, Thursday, and half a day on Friday; but since you are here, I can cram in a few extra hours today and on Thursday. That’ll leave all of Friday free for us. What do you think?”

“What about Wednesday?”

“Photoshoot. Would take most of the day, though. It’s a final one - they’ll squeeze whatever they can out from me.”

“And Saturday?”

“Nothing really. It was left as a backup day in case I need extra time, but it doesn’t look this way as of now.”

“So technically we can have two days to ourselves before our Sunday’s flight back, right?”

“Yup.” Adrien nodded.

“I think the choice is obvious. Why are you even asking me?”

“Because,” Adrien wrapped Marinette in a hug, settling beside her on a very comfortable loveseat she’d occupied for the last hour in his office. “Cramming in a few more hours would mean staying here those few more hours, and you've just dozed off for what I suspect was not the first time.”

“Sorry,” Marinette smiled apologetically. “It’s late in Paris and I’m still on their time.”

“Then why don’t you go home and rest. I’ll come when I’m done.”

“But-”

“No buts, Marinette,” Adrien gently scolded. “We were supposed to go home separately anyway, and Thomas’ workday will be over soon, so go and rest.”

“I wanted to spend all of the time I can with you.”

Adrien nuzzled her nose. “Sleeping in an awkward position on a couch while I'm working can hardly be considered spending time together. You should rest, Marinette. We’ll have some time alone tomorrow after the shoot. I might even take you out to one of my favourite places here.”

Marinette stayed silent for a second but then failed to suppress a yawn. “You honestly wouldn’t mind me leaving you?”

“I insist,” Adrien said before a smirk split his lips. “Unless you allow me to ravish you right here, right now-”

“Adrien,” Marinette squeaked. “There are people still in the office. You said it yourself - Thomas is waiting to drive me home.”

“Risk makes it all more interesting,” Adrien leaned down and slowly kissed her neck. “So, what do you say, Princess? May I?”

“I say the most you’ll get right now are cuddles,” Marinette responded, shoving him away a bit. “But if you manage to finish the work and still catch me awake at home, then I might consider your offer.”

“Perfect,” Adrien purred, weaving his arms around her back. They stayed like that for a few minutes before Adrien pulled away, saying that Thomas’ workday would end in half an hour, so it probably was a good time to call for him. Riding home, Marinette caught herself dozing off a few more times, and once she exited the shower, she crawled under the blankets and blacked out. She didn’t hear Adrien coming in a few hours later, but she still snuggled onto him when he pulled her into a hug, giving her a goodnight kiss.

On Wednesday, Marinette saved Richard another few hours of shooting. Inspired by her presence, Adrien did a fantastic job in record time and earned just enough free time to take Marinette out to Central Park. Since both of them were wearing disguises, the pair managed to avoid unnecessary attention and spent an evening quietly strolling along the lesser known paths of the park. They talked about the past, remembering the good times, and discussed their plans for the future. Marinette admitted to wanting to put her own spin on Gabriel’s style for a while now. After hearing her ideas, Adrien thought she should’ve done that a long time ago.

“Father loves this kind of stuff,” he beamed. “You’re brilliant, Marinette. I guarantee, he’ll give you your own line if he sees these ideas.”

“You think so?”

“I know so!”

“Alright. I might as well try it. What about you?”

“Hm, well, for me there’ll be no more catwalks that’s for sure. The December show will be my last one. Maybe some random photoshoots for fun in the future, but I’ll be moving towards managing the business side of Gabriel.”

“Getting too old for the pictures?” she teased. “Don’t worry, Chaton, you’ll always be handsome for me.”

“Thank you, my Lady.” Adrien chuckled and winked at her. “I’m glad to know the most gorgeous woman on this planet thinks I’m handsome.”

Marinette laughed. “You do know you are an incorrigible dork, right?”

“I don’t think you mind, though.”

“I don’t.”

“Then I don’t care,” Adrien smiled and lifted her hand for inner wrist kiss. “Love you, Mari.”

“Love you too, Chaton.”

He didn’t let her hand go once until they got into his car to go home, and even then, Adrien reached for it as often as he could, finishing the day holding Marinette in his arms. She loved every moment of it.

Thursday was spent almost identically to her previous day at Gabriel’s office, the only difference being Marinette staying awake until the very end. Adrien managed to finish his work a little earlier and was pleasantly surprised by a goodbye party his coworkers organized. They got home late, not even bothering to take two separate cars because even if the paparazzi were to camp at Adrien’s place or his office doorsteps, the darkness and the disguise hid Marinette’s identity quite well. Still, the fact that her name hadn’t made it into the papers yet was astonishing. Though, they did go to extremes to protect her. There were even rumours floating around about how harshly Richard himself dealt with the person who’d leaked her pictures after personally tracking them down.

“He’s vicious,” Marinette noted when Adrien had confirmed that someone did turn up at his office to beg for forgiveness.

“Only when someone wrongs the people he loves,” Adrien shrugged. “Otherwise, he’s an old softie in disguise.”

On Friday they slept in, and then spend the afternoon strolling along the streets scattered with multitudes of little shops and vendors, buying presents for friends and family. It was a bit trickier to stay undetected in a highly populated area in daylight, so Marinette changed her wig to long blonde hair while Adrien “forgot” to shave and wore a black hair wig of his own. He added a hat, and both wore sunglasses.

“I’ve never had so much fun,” Adrien kept whispering from time to time. “I feel like a kid again.”

“And a very handsome one at that,” Marinette said, brushing his jawline with her fingers. “I think I like that stubble look on you. Do that often once we’re home.”

“Absolutely,” he purred. “What about a beard? I once grew it out and let me tell you - rocked it too.”

Marinette laughed. “I don’t think I’m there yet, but we’ll see. Let’s start with a random stubble for now.”

“As my Lady wishes,” Adrien bowed his head and pulled her towards a hot dog stand on the side of the walkway. He swore she'd love those.

Friday’s visit to the François family in the evening of that day, however, was the event that Marinette considered the most interesting of the whole trip. She’d never expected it to be more than a farewell party from Adrien’s closest friends in NYC. It turned out to be an insight into the character of Adrien Agreste of six years after.

They arrived a few minutes before the appointed time.

“Everything will be alright.” Adrien squeezed Marinette’s hand reassuringly. “They might be a bit unconventional, but they’re really cool. You’ll like them. I promise.”

“I’m sure I will-” Marinette didn’t finish the sentence when the door was swung open and the pair was pulled inside by the host.

“Bonsoir, bonsoir, my dears!” Richard greeted them with a broad smile as the other members of the family eagerly encircled Marinette. He briefly introduced everyone: his wife Lucia, their children Sofia and Edward with their spouses Peter and Megan, as well as their four grandchildren: twin five-years-old boys, a toddler girl and a four-month-old baby Antoine.

A bit overwhelmed by all of the commotions around her, Marinette could do little but smile and greet everyone while focusing on Adrien’s arm around her waist... at least, until even that anchor was taken away by Lucia dragging Adrien into the kitchen a few minutes later.

“You are so much better with Bolognese, Adrien,” Lucia practically pleaded. “I am really sorry but, please, do me a favour and finish the damn sauce. Last time, I promise.”

“Alright, alright.” Adrien chuckled and turned to Marinette, to see if she wanted to go with him since most already dispersed back into the apartment.

“She’ll stay with me, won’t you?” Sofia rushed to interfere, looping her arm around Marinette’s. “I didn’t gather a whole bunch of stories about you for nothing, Agreste. I simply must share. She has to know just what kind of person she’s gotten herself involved with.”

“I’m pretty sure she knows me,” Adrien retorted.

“Oh, but does she know what you’ve been up to all these years in NYC?” Sofia wiggled her eyebrows. “Shoo, Agreste. Let the women gossip about their men.”

Adrien seemed to hesitate and, intrigued by Sofia’s proposal, Marinette assured that she would be fine waiting for him with Sofia.

“Okay,” Adrien smiled. “I’ll be quick and—” he glared at the other girl, “—do not embarrass me, Sofia.”

The girl puffed. “Please, with what? No offence, Agreste, but you’re one of the most boring people I’ve ever met. Can you believe—” she turned to Marinette, “—he lived in the city that never sleeps and still managed to spend all of his time at work or home? Boring! Bland and tedious.”

“Don’t believe her, Marinette,” Adrien pouted. “I did tons of fun stuff.”

“Sure, you did,” Sofia deadpanned. “Like learning to cook with Mama who spent more time teaching you than her own daughter. So much fun.”

“My daughter hates cooking,” Lucia shouted from the kitchen. “And this nice, young man was starving and willing to learn. Don’t blame me for your own choices!”

“I didn’t!” Sofia retorted. “Just pointing out that Adrien had lots of fun here. Also, oh my gosh, Marinette, you won’t believe but he used to read all the time. All those huge, boring books-”

“Those were for my school. I did get a Master’s degree, you know.”

Sofia shrugged. “That doesn’t excuse them being lacklustre. However,” she added with a smug smirk. “Even you’ve had your moments, Agreste, so I can’t promise you anything. There might be one or two stories Marinette would love to hear.”

Adrien narrowed his eyes at her. Marinette couldn’t hold back a smile. So that’s how it felt to have a sibling? Even if not an official one, but the thought of Adrien having had someone to care for him those years in the States was heartwarming, and these people, the whole family, seemed to love him as one of their own.

“Oh! I know!” Sofia suddenly stirred up, turning to Marinette with a wiggle of eyebrows and a sly smile on her lips. “I’ll tell you about the time Dad was trying to set us up and how much Agreste was dying to get out of it. You should’ve seen him, Marinette. He was like a deer caught in headlights. ‘I respect you, sir, and Sofia is beautiful and smart and amazing, but she like a sister to me. I could never date her.’ That was hilarious.”

“Please,” Adrien puffed. “You wanted out even more than I did.”

“Duh! You’re like a brother. Like, ewww? No way. Plus, Peter and I were a thing already—” she glanced across the room at a man holding a baby, “—I just hadn’t told the folks about him yet.”

“They got married a year later,” Adrien added. “Almost eloped, but we managed to talk her out of it.”

“Edward did,” Sofia laughed. “You were a picture of misery the whole time.”

“I was not!”

“Yup, you were,” Edward chuckled, walking closer.

“Hey, I was happy for you, guys!” Adrien pouted.

“Of course, you were happy for our little troublemaker,” Edward laughed, hugging Adrien’s shoulder. “No one denies that. But you were also not so successfully trying to hold back tears at her wedding.”

“From happiness!”

“And every time Edward’s wife had a baby?”

“That’s-”

“Oh, please, Adrien,” Sofia rolled her eyes. “Deny it all you want, but you wear your heart on your sleeve, you know. Yes, you were happy for us, but you were also sad and miserable and refused to tell us why.”

“The most I got out of him,” Edward added, “was that there was someone who he was in love with for years, but whose life he’d ruined, and now that person didn’t want anything to do with him and he still loved them and couldn’t move on. Though, I had to get him really, really drunk for that confession to come out.”

“I hate you guys,” Adrien huffed and glared at the two. “The one and only time I let you take me out to a bar-”

“Sofia! Ed! Leave the poor boy alone!” their mother shouted from the kitchen. “You’re going to scare Marinette away with your nonsense. Come here, Adrien. Bring Marinette with you and leave those heathens behind.” A wave of chuckles and giggles filled the room. Adrien straightened up.

“Thank you, Aunt Lucia,” he shouted before offering his hand to Marinette. “Would you join me in the kitchen, my Lady? Those insensitive individuals did not deserve your company.”

“Aw, come on!” Sofia whined. “We were just having fun. Leave her with us.”

“Too late,” Adrien pulled Marinette to himself and stuck his tongue out. “She is all mine and I don’t share with bullies.”

“We love you, Adrien,” Sofia retorted, stepping away herself to check up on her husband who seemed to be having troubles with getting their baby to sleep. Edward got distracted by one of his kids as well, so the pair effortlessly sneaked away.

“Adrien is a nice boy, don’t listen to them,” Lucia mumbled under her breath as soon as they entered the kitchen. “He's kind and smart, hard-working and an amazing cook. Those tactless kids of mine just like to tease him, and he is too nice to play their games. That’s their father’s doing. I told Richard to stop doing that because the kids would learn it, but does he ever listen to me? Here—” she passed a bowl full of ingredients to Adrien. “If you don’t mind, dear. Your Bolognese is the best and we’ll retaliate by not sharing.”

Adrien chuckled and headed to the stove.

“They weren’t so bad,” Marinette said. “I can tell they love Adrien- in their own special way. Plus, I got to learn something new about him.”

“Want to learn more?” Sofia peaked through the door. “I have tons of stories left.”

“Shoo, you evil child!” Lucia cried out. “Go set the table if you have nothing better to do. I’m almost done with dinner.”

“I can help,” Marinette offered, seeing as she wasn’t going to be very useful at the kitchen with Adrien and the older woman seemingly having everything under control.

“See? She wants the stories, Mama! Come with me, girl. I’ll tell you all of his secrets,” Sofia quickly pulled Marinette out of the room to Lucia’s discontent huffing and Adrien’s laugh. Marinette giggled herself. It was chaotic. Overwhelming even, but undeniably those people cared a lot about each other and about Adrien. It could be felt in the air. She could see it in their eyes. It must have been such a contrast for Adrien to get into this family after his lonely childhood life.

The table setting didn’t take long, seeing as Megan, Edward’s wife, had finally managed to escape from her kids and lend them a hand. Together, they told Marinette about Adrien’s life in the States, starting from the time their father dragged the depressed, lonely model into their house, and ending with him surprising them with the news of Emma and Marinette. There wasn’t much in between - just a few silly NYC adventures when they practically forced Adrien out.

“He liked to stay at home when he didn't work or study,” Sofia said. “We tried to get him out but the stubborn ass would usually refuse, and even if he did go out with us, he'd just sit there with that look on his face.”

“I always hated it,” Megan added. “He looked like a kicked puppy. There was always that sadness in his eyes, you know?”

“Especially when Dad tried to set him up those few times. Poor guy looked even more depressed after a date than before it and never went on a second one. We gave up on that pretty soon. I think he suffered through three?”

Megan shook her head. “Nope. Two. You were supposed to be the third one, remember?”

“Oh right,” Sofia sighed. “Well, we’re sure glad it's in the past and he has you now, Marinette,” Sofia smiled and out of the blue wrapped her arms around Marinette. “Thank you so much. I know it might sound strange coming from a complete stranger, but Adrien means a lot to us, and we are very thankful you appeared in his life. He looks happy. Really happy. Genuinely so. Please, be kind to him.”

“I will,” Marinette whispered, holding back tears. “I’ll do my best.”

The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. Adrien got free from the kitchen pretty soon but was snatched up by a horde of kids who insisted that Uncle Adrien was to play with them. As soon as he complied, the level of laughs and squeals in the house rose significantly. Marinette could hardly keep her eyes off Adrien as he wrestled and carried the kids around on his shoulders. The children loved him and he was terrific with them. No wonder he was so good with Emma; he had a lot of practice here. It explained perfectly why he was so happy and eager to be a father as well.

Then followed the loudest dinner Marinette had ever attended, yet in a fun and wholehearted way. Adrien seemed to be right at home, even if the stories about him never ended and more than one of those were told with the sole purpose to tease him. He quickly retaliated, though, telling Marinette his own tales about the people around the table, causing the whole room to erupt with laughs. By the end of the evening, Marinette, in a way, felt a little guilty taking him away from them, but they approved. Adrien was loved here and his happiness stood above their own wishes.

They left late evening and Marinette felt as much a part of their family as was Adrien. Sofia proclaimed her to be her new sister. Richard and Lucia invited them over whenever they would be on this side of the Atlantic. Edward shook Adrien’s hand and wished him well as an older brother would. Everyone hugged, and from the corner of her eye, Marinette noticed lingering tears in more than one pair of eyes.

“I see you weren’t as lonely as you’ve told me,” Marinette teased him as soon as they left. “They’re great people, Adrien. I really enjoyed this evening.”

“They are awesome,” Adrien replied with a bittersweet smile on his face. “But... over the years… looking at them- it was just- you know when you see your friends- family almost,” he corrected. “When you see them fall in love, date, get engaged, get married, when you hold their newborns in your hands and help them choose the right name, when you help cook and share those amazing evening together… all while knowing that you most likely will never get to experience that with the woman you love… that you perhaps will never have a family of your own… That—” he lightly squeezed Marinette's hand, not making eye contact, “—that was the lonely and miserable part.”

“I’m sorry,” Marinette whispered and stopping, wrapped her arms around him.

“I'm sorry too,” Adrien whispered back, returning the embrace. “I can imagine it wasn't any easier for you.”

“I had Emma. And my parents. I had Alya, and Nino. I was still back home with lots of friends and even your father. He helped us too. You were all alone over here in a foreign country. And while Richard and his family are amazing — and I’m so, so glad they took you in — but if I understand correctly, they were your only friends here?”

Adrien nodded silently.

“I’m so sorry, Adrien,” Marinette whispered burying her face into his chest. “All because of me. Me and my stupid mistake.”

“I thought we agreed that it was my mistake too.”

“But-”

“No ‘buts’ Marinette. I’m not lonely anymore. I have you and Emma. We have each other. That’s all that matters.”

“No, it’s not,” Marinette protested, pulling away and catching his gaze. “It’s been years, Adrien. Because of me-”

“Because of you,” Adrien stopped her speech, gently placing a finger to her lips. “I’m not lonely anymore. I have a family now and feel like the luckiest man alive. Because of what had happened we’ve become people we’re now. We’ve learned; we’ve matured. We’ve both messed up, Marinette. Not just you or me. We both did, and there is nothing we can do about it now.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he continued to gaze upon her. “We’re together and happy now. We know what we should work on, so let’s leave the past in the past and focus on the future. Okay?”

Marinette’s eyes filled with tears. Was there a limit to how much Adrien loved her? She didn’t know, but when he leaned closer and put his forehead to hers her heart fluttered.

“I love you,” Adrien whispered. “And I don’t want you blaming yourself for the rest of your life for something we both did.”

“I love you too, Adrien,” she barely breathed out, loud enough only for his ears. “With all my heart.”

“That's all that matters,” Adrien smiled at her and let his lips brushed against hers in a gentle touch. “Let's go home,” he added. “I need to show you just how much I love you.”

“Same,” Marinette replied quietly.

Saturday morning Marinette met with a smile on her lips. There wasn’t much planned for today: some last-minute packing, maybe a lunch out somewhere nearby and perhaps another walk at Central Park. The evening was reserved for a movie, cuddles and early bedtime since their plane was leaving first thing Sunday morning. So, not rushing to open her eyes, Marinette cuddled closer to Adrien, still flying somewhere between reality and dreamland as she relished in the warmth of being close. In response, Adrien wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her closer.

This. This felt nice. Marinette hummed satisfactory under her breath. This felt like something she’d really enjoy for the rest of her life. The whole last week was something she’d love to have for the rest of her life. Waking up cuddling to Adrien, spending their days in close proximity, working together, sharing their meals, relaxing in the evening watching a movie or just talking, falling asleep in his arms… It only needed Emma added in, and it would be perfect. Perfect enough for her to eagerly anticipate his promised proposal to come.

Adrien’s arms suddenly tightened around her as he whispered her name. He must have awoken already, but Marinette didn't rush to turn around to wish him good morning - the way he held her right now was way too comfortable for that.

“I love you- love you so much.” He tugged her closer.

“Love you too, Adrien,” Marinette replied quietly, softly stroking one of his hands on her stomach.

“You are my everything, Marinette,” Adrien murmured against her skin. “You and Emma- everything-”

This time she wanted to respond, but Adrien continued to whisper.

“Love you so much… Can’t live without you… Marinette… I’ll make you happy… I promise… Marry me…”

The breath in her chest hitched for just a moment, a smile splitting her lips. They really were meant to be. Otherwise, how could Adrien read her mind and know one of her greatest desires a few minutes after she’d wished for it?

“Marinette,” Adrien murmured against her bare skin, his voice raspy and deep. “My Lady… My Princess… I love you...”

“I love you too,” Marinette finally replied, swirling around, “Of course, I’ll marry you, Chaton, you silly kitty. There is nothing I want more right now than this.”

With that, she pulled Adrien to herself and kissed him. Kissed him slowly and tenderly, lingering in the sweetness of his lips, lavishing in the warmth of his embrace.

She pulled away a few moments later to meet Adrien’s bewildered eyes, as he blinked before letting a sleepy smile stretch on his lips. Ignoring his dumbfounded expression, Marinette leaned in again for another kiss. This time he responded.

“Didn’t know the cuddling ceremony was replaced by a kissing one,” Adrien purred once they parted. “Not complaining, though. I might even prefer this one. You have the best ideas, Princess.”

“Well, isn’t it what you do after you get proposed to?” Marinette said, her eyes half-lidded and dreamy. “You kiss your fiancée.”

Adrien pulled back. “I proposed to you?”

“Yup.” Marinette’s grin stretched wider. “You did.”

He blinked. “When?”

“Just now?”

A silent whimper escaped Adrien’s lips as he stared back at her in disbelief. After a short while, he said barely audible. “Marinette, I woke up being kissed. I don’t remember anything before that.”

They stared at each other in silence before Marinette gave in, snorted and erupted with laughter. “Really?”

“Yes,” Adrien whined, closing his eyes.

“You’ve missed your own proposal?” Marinette continued to giggle.

“That’s not funny, Princess.” He flopped back on the bed, a sad puppy look on his face. “Weeks of practice down the drain.”

“Awww. I almost feel sorry for you, Chaton, but I’ll let you know that you were very cuddly and sweet. A swoon-worthy proposal for sure. I couldn't refuse you even if I wanted to.”

Adrien chuckled. Raising himself over her on one elbow, he tucked away some stray hairs behind her ear with his other hand. “Then maybe, you’ll allow me to ask you again? It would’ve been nice to remember you saying Yes to me.”

“Sure.” Marinette nodded. “But I’ll agree again only if you can beat the Sleep Adrien’s proposal.”

“I see. So, I’ve got my work cut out for me?”

“Undeniably.”

“Well then—” still raised on one elbow he leaned down and nuzzled her jaw, whispering in her ear. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I love you. Will you marry me?”

“That's it?” she chuckled when Adrien refrained from adding anything else. “No big words and promises to beat your rival?”

“I’m sure Sleep Adrien already said all the words and promised you everything,” Adrien said, his voice husky as he traced the line of her jaw with his fingers, following the trail with his eyes. “But in the weeks that I’ve spent practicing my proposal speech, I’ve noticed that the simpler words are, the more effective and sincerer they are as well.”

“I suppose,” Marinette replied with a smile, placing her hand atop of his. “But you’ll need something extra to top Sleep Adrien because let me tell you - he was fantastic.”

“Of course, my Lady,” Adrien replied bringing her hand to his lips. “I’m sure he was great telling you things, but did he do something like this?” He let his lips brush against the inside of her wrist.

Marinette shook her hand.

“How about this?” Leaning down, Adrien peppered the curve of her jaw with tender butterfly kisses before moving on to her neck, gently sucking at her exposed skin.

Closing her eyes, Marinette let a sigh out. “No.”

“And this?” Adrien nibbled at her earlobe. “I’m sure Sleep Adrien was big on words, but I offer you my actions. So, what will you say, Marinette? Will you marry me?”

“Tempting,” Marinette whispered, locking her gaze on him. “You drive a hard deal, Chaton.”

The corner of his lips curved as Adrien’s eyes fell to her lips. Watching them for a short while, he caught her eyes again and added. “I have a lot more to offer to Mme Adrien Agreste, though. Would you like to become her, Marinette?”

“Yes,” Marinette whispered, tugging him closer. “And very much so.”

“Excellent,” Adrien smiled and capture her lips with his.

It had been well over a year since his son came back from the States. Sixteen months since Adrien had discovered he was a father and cleared all of the misunderstandings not only between Marinette and himself but between them as well. About fourteen months, Gabriel would guess, since the duo came back engaged from NYC - of no surprise to anyone and just as he'd predicted. Exactly a year since their wedding. Unnecessary delay where Gabriel’s opinion was considered, but Adrien and Marinette had insisted on enjoying the engagement stage for at least a few months, which, to be fair, that did give him the time to create a custom wedding dress for Marinette and allowed their friends to arrange some time off work to attend their tropical wedding gateway. Sunset beach ceremony wasn't what he personally would've chosen, but Emma was happy and so was Gabriel. In the end, his preferences aside, the fact that Marinette had decided to take Adrien’s last name and change Emma’s in the process as well, was most pleasing of all.

Emma Agreste sounded perfect.

Emma Agreste had too much of a hold on his heart, and he acknowledged it without shame. Even now, as Gabriel carefully inspected her drawings, he couldn't hold back a smile. Emma clearly inherited his fantastic fashion sense.

“Father?” Adrien’s voice split the silence of the room. Gabriel lifted his head, confused as for why he hadn’t heard the door opening.

“Oh, you are back. I assume the date went well?”

“Yes, it was amazing,” Adrien smiled, pulling Marinette into the office. “Where’s Emma?”

“She went to her room ten minutes ago.”

“You mean my old room?” Adrien teased. “I still can’t believe you removed my zip line because it suddenly isn't safe anymore.”

“We already discussed it, Adrien,” Gabriel replied nonchalantly. “Whoever visits more gets the room. Emma wins by a long run and if you want that zip line so badly, install it in your own house and stop bothering me.”

“I’ve been robbed,” Adrien mock pouted. “Stripped of the place I’ve spent most of life in.”

Gabriel sighed. Marinette giggled.

“We appreciate it, M Agreste,” she said, putting a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “And Emma loves it. She’s still ecstatic about the princess treehouse and the royal carriage bed you put in for her. Even started bugging Adrien to buy her a similar one for her room at home.”

“I see,” Gabriel smirked in satisfaction, looking at Adrien. “So, remodelling the room to suit her particular tastes wasn't that unnecessary after all.”

“My climbing wall is still her favourite feature, though,” Adrien countered. “You can’t deny that.”

Gabriel sighed. “I suppose I can’t. She is your daughter after all.”

“She is,” Adrien grinned proudly. “And as unbelievable as it sounds, she takes a lot after me.”

“Maybe, but she undoubtedly inherited her mother’s fashion talent,” Gabriel added. “You can't deny that.”

“I suppose I can’t,” Adrien chuckled and looked at Marinette. “And I don’t mind in the slightest.”

“Speaking of which,” Gabriel leaned back into his chair and looked at Marinette. “Would you to bring her to the office next week? I want to start with that line I promised her. She has some interesting ideas already.”

“Wait.” Adrien frowned. “I thought co-creating a line with Emma was a joke.”

“I don't joke about such matters,” Gabriel replied. “Emma has a talent, and she is at the age when her imagination has no bounds. I want to explore that. She has a bright future if we nurture her from early on.”

Adrien glanced at Marinette. “We’ll discuss it over the dinner on Friday. We need to consider everything before we agree or decline anything.”

“Fair enough.” Gabriel nodded. “Now, should I call for Emma? It’s getting close to her bedtime, and you still need to get home.”

Adrien suddenly grinned and grabbed Marinette’s hand. “Not yet. First, we wanted to tell you some exciting news-”

“Oh. Did Marinette finally tell you she is pregnant?” Gabriel cut in, his face calm as he watched Marinette’s eyes widen and Adrien’s jaw drop to the floor.

“Wha- But- How? How do you know?”

The man let out an amused chuckle. “Can you guess what is one of the perks of being your boss, Marinette?”

The woman shook her head.

“I get to hear all the rumours about you early on,” he continued. “You are an Agreste now, Marinette, and people pay special attention to everything you do. When they notice stuff, they gossip, and every gossip about any member of my family makes its way to my office sooner or later. I suspected a pregnancy a few weeks ago when you were spotted feeling sick in the bathroom three days in a row, constantly seemed tired for a while and started consuming an impressive number of salty snacks.”

Adrien chuckled to himself and looked at Marinette.

“Then, of course, your father called me a week ago because he couldn’t congratulate Adrien yet, but he was eager to share the news with at least someone.”

“You father knew?” Adrien turned to Marinette.

“And Maman,” Marinette said apologetically. “She noticed the symptoms when I was over a few weeks ago and asked me. I couldn’t lie, but they promised not to tell anyone until I surprised you.”

“Unbelievable,” Adrien pouted. “Why am I always the last one to find out things in this family?”

“You should’ve been the first one to notice something was up,” Gabriel quirked an eyebrow. “Seeing how she is your wife and you live in the same house, and you—” he addressed Marinette with a stern look, “—you should’ve made it short days if you weren’t feeling well. We don’t want my grandchild to be born prematurely.”

“That’s why you kept sending me home early?” Marinette smiled. “Thank you. That was very thoughtful and very much appreciated.”

“Left behind,” Adrien whined and dramatically plopped on a chair. “Again. By my own father and my beloved wife. How could this happen to me?”

“Awww.” Marinette smiled, lightly ruffling Adrien’s hair. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to tell you in a special way and our anniversary seemed like the perfect day to do so, but here—” she leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Feeling better?

“A little,” Adrien pouted. “One more?”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Adrien,” Gabriel huffed, standing up. “I’ll go get Emma.”

“You won’t call Nathalie to bring her as usual?” Adrien asked.

“It seems you two need a few minutes alone,” Gabriel said with a straight face, heading for the door. “We’ll be back in a few minutes, settle everything by then.”

He closed the door to the pair’s stifled laughs and Adrien’s unmistakable “Come here, Princess” and walked up the stairs. Soon Gabriel stood in front of Adrien’s former bedroom. A soft knock on the door gave him no response. He tried again and entered the room, calling out his granddaughter’s name. The room looked empty, the lights dimmed and no one answered him no matter how many times he called. Just for a moment, his mind stirred with worry, but then his eyes fell on a sleeping girl in the extravagant treehouse he made for her. Snoozing peacefully amongst the countless pillows and plushies, she was hugging a Chat Noir doll Marinette had made for her, swaddled in a ladybug-themed blanket Adrien had insisted was a must in this room.

Gabriel smiled. Emma was a surprise. For her mother. For her father. For him. Unexpected and bewildering. She looked mind-blowingly similar to his late wife, but that wasn't the most surprising thing about her. How much she’d accomplished in her seven years was astonishing. She inspired him every day and brought smiles to everyone around her. She’d gotten her parents together, something they were too childish to do themselves. She’d managed to melt his heart and prompted a reconciliation between him and his long-estranged son, something that just a little over a year ago Gabriel had never thought it possible. That was more than most people accomplish in a lifetime. Unexpected? Surprising? Not really. She was an Agreste, after all. Emma Agreste to be precise.

That's it, guys. I hope you've enjoyed this ride as much as I did. I hope Unexpected Surprise was as special to you as it was to me. I'm very thankful to my betas KryallaOrchid and EdenDaphne for helping me to polish this gem. Thank you so much, guys!!! Without you, this story would never be as amazing as it is now. Also, I'll be posting a separate Unexpected Surprise bonus story in a week where you'll get your questions about kwamis answered and be able to glimpse the future of the Adrien and Marinette's family. Hope you'll love it just as much as the main story. <3

Please note: English is a strange and wonderful language where many words have multiple meanings and slang can change depending on your country of origin. It is my third language so while I will do my very best, there may be mistakes made along the way.

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#adrinette #adrienette #ml fanfiction #aged up #fluff #Emma Agreste #Unexpected Surprise #usml

[axiolotl]

this week has been really, really weird. like a whole ass roller coaster, with a lot of great, awesome things and one pretty bad thing, but...i’m still ok. literally no one has any obligation to read this it’s just me reflecting on a wild week so that i don’t lose track and can go through my feelings

(read more for Lots of personal)

so this past week: 

Thursday: got to my hotel in Boston to go to PAX East for the weekend with some of my best friends, and had a really nice, relaxing time in a lil mini-vacation, in anticipation of a new job starting in a week (today, technically)

Friday: we all got dressed up in really nice cosplays from the game monster prom, and went to really cool panels, people took our pictures, and just...it was so nice to wake up and hang out with friends, peacefully getting make up all in excitement for a con. we met the monster prom creators and became friends with one of them, and she invited us to her new play opening up in NYC for thursday (i couldn’t go bc my new job was 1-9pm, but still super nice). and we learned a lot at panels,  and got a ton of inspiration for game ideas and future cosplays. we saw so many cool indie games and most importantly i got to hang out with just. good friends 

Saturday: we spent the day relaxing at the hotel, went to the gym, and then i got to meet my good internet friend for the first time and play d&d (dungeons & doggies) while drunk and it was warm and nice and cozy and fantastic

Sunday: i was originally not going to go to PAX East on this day but i bought a ticket anyway bc i just got a new job, we go back in normal clothes, see a bunch of new indie games and go to educational panels, and again, hang out with good friends. we got inspiration for the games we wanna make this summer!!!! we all drive back to my friend’s place for the night & sleepover

Monday: we woke up at my friend’s place, which is always just...such a treat? it’s always so nice and dreamy and beautiful to wake up on the couch with my friend sleeping on the air mattress next to me, while my two other friends quietly make breakfast and coffee and play games on mute in the same room. Ideal. i drove back home and spent the rest of the day recovering to make sure i don’t get con plague, went into my parent’s hot tub, hung out with friends online (and fell asleep while on call l o l )

Tuesday: another slower day, but i set goals to email a professor about a class i’m currently failing to ask if there was any way to extend my deadlines. i was still really tired and feeling sick from PAX so im proud that i was able to send that email and still unpack my bag and clean up my house, knowing i’d want a cleaner place in the coming week bc low energy and new job (and had a fun time hanging out with friends online by the end of the day)

Wednesday: i spent the morning organizing all the business cards, pamphlets, and handouts from PAX to make sure that i wishlisted all the games i wanted and recorded all the notes from the panels i wanted. i sat down and found all the documents for my taxes and filed my taxes by myself for the first time, which is awesome. (i did all of that without my ADHD meds, btw)

i also had class & d&d that night, and just as i was about to fill out my W2 for the new job i was gonna start today before i go to class, my mom called to let me know that my grandma passed away. 

it...it’s kind of been a long time coming. idk how many people followed me almost a decade ago when my grandpa (my grandma who just died’s husband) but it was a similar situation. she’s had dementia for the past two years, and has been on the decline for a while. i don’t know whether she recognized me this past year, or really understood what anyone was saying (she couldn’t really speak, either), but...it’s still really hard. it’s relieving, almost, to know that she doesn’t need to suffer in confusion anymore, but it’s difficult being in the “after” of such an event, even when, all things considered, i had a pretty awesome week with even more awesome things planned in the future. i called out of class and my new job & they said they’d make my start date next week instead, and played d&d that night to keep my spirits up. OH and i got an email saying that i got accepted for a scholarship to cover all my tuition for next semester, and my professor said he’d extend deadlines for my failing class lol. 

Thursday (today!): I woke up feeling...mostly okay, actually. it’s really hard to determine my feelings, because i went through a bunch yesterday after talking to family & friends, and did a lot of reflection and comparison between how i feel now versus how i felt back when i first experienced death in my family. when my grandpa died, i felt that same relief, and at first, i didn’t really feel anything. i was in the beginning stages of a depressive episode and his death triggered a years long major depressive episode. but the difference now is that i’m stronger emotionally, i have an amazing support system of friends, i’m happy and have been happy consistently for a year, and i know when to be gentle with myself; i probably technically could have gone to my first day of work today, but i think for myself emotionally, it’s better that i didn’t. it’s better that i took the time today to clean the house, find pictures of my grandma, and write a eulogy for sunday and monday. it’s better that i wasn’t worrying about my first day outfit and remembering names and meeting people while also having that emotional stress on me, instead of ignoring that emotional stress. 

i’ve matured emotionally since then. i won’t just push down what i’m feeling; i can acknowledge my mourning, i can remember my grandma, i can be sad about losing her, and still continue my life and see my future in excitement. it’s going to hurt to feel those things, it’s going to hurt to talk to my family, it’s going to hurt to see my family sad, and it’s going to hurt to go to the funeral and the wake. it’s going to hurt to do those things, but i can still find good things. i can smile at the pictures i go through, and i can plan to hang out with friends so that i can be reminded of how good life is, and i can bring the joy and love and warmth that i learned in the past decade and continue to carry it through with me. 

later today i’m going over to my grandma’s house to help my cousin look for old pictures for a memorial, and then tonight i’m going to go to that musical in the city, and then sleepover at my friend’s house

Future: Friday! i’ll wake up at my friend’s house, my friend will drive us home, and then i’ll drive my cousin home from school and then go hang out at a friend’s birthday party and see my best friends 

Saturday i’ll probably be hosting family and/or prepping for the wake and funeral on Sunday and Monday. then Tuesday i have therapy (coincidentally convenient), and d&d again (nice). Wednesday i have class again and then Thursday i’ll *actually* start my job

it’s just been like. WILD. this week has gone from straight up convention, good school news, potential new job, a family death, a musical and a birthday party. this is like a stupid impossible week, how did i get such a huge amount of fun events and good news and then bad news in one week. but the good things is, is that i know i’ll be okay. i know i have fantastic friends, and i know how to take care of myself, and i think i know how to mourn now without completely being devastated. i think that i can be gentle with myself and cushion the bad with the good, to know that life is weird, and i’ll be okay no matter what. i would, really, though, like to just spend the rest of this week with friends even more than i already am. i’d like to hide away for a bit, i’d like to process my feelings, i’d like to commiserate on my own and quietly, and i’d like to just...have someone hold me for a bit. but i’ll be okay, and it’s okay that i won’t be okay for a bit. but unlike last time, i know how to allow myself to be not okay and then recover from that. i know how to come out of this, and i know how to find the happiness. and im eternally grateful to my friends who have been so supportive, even if it’s just by them being their funny and fantastic selves 

#alyssa.txt #family member death/// #this was long #sorry

[jc-travels-the-world]

Pre-Service Training (PST)

Ten weeks. Ten weeks studying Romanian. Ten weeks full of learning how to teach English in Moldova. Ten weeks living with a Moldovan family. Ten weeks getting to know my government-issued family. Ten weeks trying to figure out: what am I doing in Moldova?!

A general week during PST for me looked like the following:

·      Every day, regardless of what time I needed to be somewhere, I was awake sometime between 445a to 530a.  I would lay in bed, wander my house a bit, talk to family and friends that were awake back home, or other volunteers who also struggled to stay asleep at such an ungodly hour. Some days I was able to fall back asleep until 645a.

·      Monday to Wednesday, and Friday:

o   I would start to get ready for school at 7a. I would have a cup of ceai (tea) with mama around 710a. At 720a I would finish packing up my school bag. 730a Diamond and I would start our trek to school. I say trek, but we had the flattest and one of the shortest walks. But, often times a dog would follow us. He wasn’t a bad dog, we just weren’t the biggest fans. We would arrive to school at about 750a. This is when I would eat breakfast that mama packed for me, usually a filled croissant.

o   I had Romanian from 8a to 12p. We were split into two classes. Five in one and five in another. Halfway through PST one of our teachers had to leave and they sent a teacher from one of the HE villages. HE got three teachers for more intensive training, EE only got two, so it evened out.

o   From 12p to 130p I would have a lunch break. The other EE training village would take a rutiera to my village. I would eat my lunch waiting for the other village then I’d share my left overs with whoever didn’t get lunch that day or was still hungry. Once done with lunch, Alleyce, who came from the other village, and I would often go for a twenty minute or so walk. We knew that the next four hours were going to be long and we needed to make sure we had the energy to get through!

o   We would have technical training; training for when we go to site and teach. Tech sessions began at 130p and were supposed to end at 530p, but that did not always happen. There’s always more to learn. Topics varied greatly: from panels from current serving volunteers (M31s and M32, and one M30!), classes on multilevel classrooms, and how to teach grammar. I have many books, a notebook, and a large binder to review when needed!

·      Thursday: Hubsite Day, where all Trainees would be in the raion center for group training, usually medical and security related.

o   I would start to get ready for my day at 6a. Ceai, packing my school bag, getting money for the rutiera ready. At 630a, Diamond and I would walk to the bus stop. There were a few in town and the first half of the summer we all met at the one by the school then the second half we all took it wherever was closest to our house. Diamond and I would take it in centru since it was just past the bridge by our houses.

§  I will always remember the first day we took it alone. We got to the stop and 30 seconds later a rutiera showed up. We both got seats, there was good music playing, free wifi, and the driver was in a full out suit. So fancy, probably the first and last time I’ll see that!

o   We would arrive around 715-730a at Hubsite. We would all hang out and talk to the other volunteers that we hadn’t seen in a week. Sometimes I would hang out in the gazebo outside, I’d play uno or another card game, or hangout inside and just chat with people.

o   At 830a sessions would begin.

o   At around 5p it would be over. Once it was decided who was staying in the Raion centre and who was headed back to the village we would depart for the bus stop! Trying to catch a rutiera is a fun experience. The shortest time we waited was only maybe ten minutes, while the longest was about 90 minutes (I’m estimating because it was hot and we were all cranky, so I don’t actually know how long we waited).

·      Saturday:

o   Thankfully a short day! Morning began similar to M-W&F. Romanian class began at 8a. Then would end at 12p. After 12p we would have a weekly evaluation. First we were given a paper to self-evaluate on a scale of 1-5 with where we believe we were at on the listed topics; ranging from vocabulary, grammar, and pronunciation. Then we would go to whichever teacher we had that week and have a quick discussion and see what they score us as. We discussed where we feel we are at, how our stay in village is, and any concerns or questions we may have, whether it be about Peace Corps or Moldovan culture. Most of the time I would get sternly talked to about how I need to stop speaking English at home and speak only Romanian, but knowing me…if given a crutch, I will use it!

·      Average Afternoon and Evening:

o   It all depended on the day but most days after being in school I would head straight home. Always exhausted. I would hang out with my family. We would chat, eat dinner, and just live life. I enjoyed it a lot. This bonding is what made my life in PST wonderful.

o   Some days all of us Trainees from my village would go to the magazin for chips or ice cream (or often times both).

o   In the evenings Diamond and I would take walks together, Ana-Maria would join us. When she was not around, Danu joined us. Then sometimes Jorge would join us, or walk with one of us if the other wasn’t available. It was funny, I will discuss it later, but towards the end of our stay we were too exhausted and busy to walk. Even in the mornings during Practice School we would go separately because our schedules were so different. People would stop Diamond on her walk to ask why she was alone and where I was because we were always just out walking.

o   A couple of Saturday evenings Ana-Maria and I made ourselves a movie night. For Before the second one I took out my hot chocolate packets and we made microwave brownies with everyone at the house. It was fun!

·      Sunday

o   Now, these were supposed to be our rest day but I believe I really only had one, MAYBE two, Sundays where I actually rested. As always, I was awake before the sun. But, since I did not always HAVE to wake up for a few hours, I would force myself back to sleep.

o   Some of the most fun I had was on Sundays.

§  I went to raion center with my family and I bought a beautiful, fitted lemon dress and a long, heavy black skirt (each for 100 lei! Quite the steal!).

§  We went to Chisinau and walked A LOT. Diamond joined us and we went to Ethnographic museum, walked where there was a lot of photos for weddings. We walked along the water and found where the beach was. We ate lunch at “Fancy Annie’s”, as Jorge called it. (It’s actually called Andy’s Pizza, but it’s the fanciest one in town and someone called it Fancy Andy’s, but he misheard it. Haha)

§  One Sunday was spent at my future permanent site. I got the opportunity to meet my partner and host family. I will go into more detail about that in a later post.

§  I went to Chisinau with Alleyce and her Host Granddaughter and met up with her friend while there. We started at the PC office since I wanted to raid the loot me room. I ended up getting a shirt, a sweater (from Target), a pair of worn black jeans, and a skirt (also from Target). In the pants I found 20 lei, so my ride home was paid for! After, we went to a bunch of different restaurants and an art museum. That was one of the funniest evenings. We showed up for the last rutiera out of the capital to our village and there was a crowd of people waiting to get on. Among the crowd was another volunteer and trainee. Turns out this one was full and the last one was broken down. While waiting to figure out what to do another trainee shows up also needing to get home. There was no way out. The four of us, who I had been with all day, end up sprinting through Chisinau to try and get to another rutiera that passes by both of our villages. When we arrived, it was gone. So we hopped on another rutiera that at least gets us to the raion center. While waiting for it to leave, the other trainees and volunteer arrive. There weren’t enough seats so they had to stand. We get to the raion center, and thankfully, Alleyce’s host brother had a van and he came to get us! So all of us piled into the van and got home safely!

§  Another day, Sebastian came over from another village and we hung out with my fam. We were getting ready for the Language Proficiency Interview (LPI). I was so nervous. Because it was a week after Practice School ended I was not at my best, so having someone to practice with helped a bit!

§  Another Sunday was spent celebrating Katie’s birthday by a lake. It started with me doing my Letter of Commitment. Mama made a bunch of pizza, thinking that Beatrice would be home, Danu and his friend would be over. But that didn’t happen. So, it was just me and mama. Then, Katie and Angela were going to meet at Diamond’s place, but Nana Mila brought Diamond over to eat pineapple. The pineapple wasn’t ripe enough so Diamond ate some pizza. Since the others arrived at Diamond’s while we were eating pizza they came over and ate pizza, too. The kicker is, they all had already eaten lunch and I was still in my PJs….at 3p…… From there we walked to the lake. Hung out on a swing listening to music for an hour. Walked back. It was one of the most relaxing days.

 The joke within the family was that everyone, even from the other villages had to come to see the castle that I was staying in. Because Diamond and I’s house was in centru we were often a meeting spot for people. But for some reason the meeting spot was actually my house and everyone would end up staying for a meal (Pizza above, Hram, and Team Teaching Prep).

And this is pretty much it! That was an average week during PST. I digressed quite a bit, but that’s okay. It was an exhausting ten weeks that I will never forget. These ten weeks I spent getting to know my government issued family. It’s odd how fate brings us all together, and although I have only known them for ten weeks, we have grown so close that we know more about each other than I would have ever imagined being possible.

#moldova18 #peacecorpsmoldova #life #pst

[enchanted-flowers]

Never Take Advice from your Brother’s Dating Manuel

A gift for @beckyshecky because their Kustard art gives me life. Seriously I get so many feels from their art, and I don’t even ship Kustard that much, I just love it. 

Also, this is my entry for @bonelynomore‘s fanfiction contest! This wasn’t going to be my original fic that I was going to submit, but my original turned out to be a couple...thousand words over the word limit, so I scrapped this up, a week before the deadline. 

Beta read by: @letshexforlove, @sesrins-symphony, @dtk-imagines, @crappyartforyou. Thank you for taking a look guys! 

Word count: 3,463 Rating:T Tags: Fluff Pairing: UT Sans x UF Sans Summary: Red can’t stop staring at the cute skeleton across the cafeteria. Classic can’t stop daydreaming about the bad boy who lived down the street from him. Both believe that neither of them had a chance with the other. It’s going to take some intervention to get these lovesick idiots just to go out on a date.  

“YOU’RE STARING!”

“w-what? no i’m not!” Red’s eyelights flicker to the other skeleton across the cafeteria, who is too absorbed in his homework to notice anything, thankfully, “and keep it down, will ya?”

“WHY?! DO YOU NOT WANT THE ENTIRE WORLD-” Edge raises his voice louder into a shout, but before he could finish, Red leaps over the table, knocking over several trays of food and spilling the chocolate milk in the process. He covers his brother’s annoying mouth and pushes him to the ground, “WHAT THE HELL RED?!”

The students around them glare at the two monsters on the floor, then return to their lunchtime activities, rolling their eyes at the brothers. Red glances at the cute skeleton across the room, and sighs in relief. He is still oblivious.

“keep it down or i’m never gonna pick up that sock on the floor.”

“YOU’RE NEVER GOING TO PICK IT UP ANYWAY!”

Red silently pleads with his eyelights and Edge rolls his eyes, nodding in agreement. The short skeleton climbs off of his brother and helps him up. Together, they pick up the trays and tidy up the mess, then return to their respective seats. The cafeteria drones on in senseless chatter, unaware of what just went down. Heh. Went down. Red props his jaw up with his hand and mindlessly stirs his mushy mashed potatoes.

“Seriously though, you’ve been staring at the kid all semester. Just ask him out already,” Edge says, for the tenth time this week.

“i told you before, it doesn’t work like that,” Red mumbles, still stirring his food.

“What are you talking about? It’s simple! Just go up to him and ask if he wants to see a movie with you!”

Red remains unresponsive, burying himself into his jacket and blushing slightly.

“UGH. MUST I DO EVERYTHING FOR YOU?!” before Red could stop him, Edge stands up and makes his way across the cafeteria towards the other skeleton.

“hey, bro, wait, what are you... fuck stop stop stop!!”

“YOU!” Edge pounds his fist on the table, startling the other monster.

“Yes?” he tilts his head in confusion.

Red is going to die.

“YOU SEE MY BROTHER OVER THERE,” Edge points at Red, who’s blushing wildly and panicking. The other skeleton nods his head, “HE WANTS TO GO THE MOVIES WITH YOU ON FRIDAY. DO YOU ACCEPT?”

The skeleton glanced over at Red causing him to squeak and blush even harder, but he gave a lopsided smile and a small wave. Nice going, Red.

“okay,” the other skeleton blinks, still unsure of what else to say.

“GREAT! HE’LL PICK YOU UP AT YOUR HOUSE AT 7! GOOD DAY!”

The other skeleton’s eye lights train on Red, so he turns around, throws his hood up, and runs out of the cafeteria.

Classic sighs heavily into his quantum physics book, dreaming about wrapping his arms around Red’s thick back on a motorcycle, the feel of leather under his fingertips as the winds fly past his face. He giggles quietly to himself as he imagines Red looking back at him to make sure he’s okay, his red eye lights glistening with his handsome smirk, gold tooth flashing in the sun. Sans’s cheeks heat up in a blue tone as his soul leaps in his chest.

A loud bang pulls him out of his daydream, but he doesn’t bother looking up. Instead, he returns to his fantasy, absorbed in the soul stopping eyes behind the sunglasses.Suddenly, a fist pounds on his table, startling him back to reality, his soul thundering in his chest. He looks up and notices a familiar monster, a tall skeleton with razor sharp teeth and blood-red makeup lined underneath his eyes. Classic recognizes him as Papyrus’s martial arts rival and Red’s younger brother. They’ve never really talked, so he tilts his head, confused as to why he would approach him like this.

“YOU SEE MY BROTHER OVER THERE,” Edge points over at Red, who looks like a deer caught in the headlights, “HE WANTS TO GO TO THE MOVIES WITH YOU ON FRIDAY. DO YOU ACCEPT?”

This was a prank right? There’s no way Edge can be serious. Why would Red want to go on a date with him? He has to say no. He can’t. He has a test he needs to study for, which he’d rather do instead of go on a date with a super hot hunk-

“okay,”  

“GREAT! HE’LL PICK YOU UP FROM YOUR HOUSE AT 7! GOOD DAY!”

Classic glances at Red, still bewildered that he wanted to go on a date with him. The other skeleton scowls, throws his hood up, and exits the cafeteria.

Classic’s heart sinks.

The week flies by without incident. And that was it. Without incident. Classic sees Red in the halls, and since his brother asked him out for him, he figures that he should at least say something. But every time he approached him or waved hello, Red turned in another direction.

Thursday night comes by and Sans trembles with his cellphone in his hand. His finger hovers over the text icon on Red’s profile, the green light indicating that he’s online. Okay. He can do this. It’s just one text. Steadying his breathing, Classic opens up the messenger and types:

Classic: why did the skeleton dance alone at the party? Classic: because he had nobody to go with!

Classic chuckles at his own pun, leans back in his chair, and waits for the reply.

Red’s phone dings and he automatically reaches for it, swiping the screen open and seeing a pop-up notification from Classic. His heart races as his thumb hovers over the chat bubble, the endless and probable possibilities racing through his mind. Did Classic want to cancel the date? Did he never want to go in the first place and just said yes to be polite? Was he going to ask Red to bring candy? Red doesn’t have candy!

Alright, get a hold of yourself Red, you can do this.  

He taps on the chat bubble and reads the message, laughing out loud at Classic’s joke. Red never knew that he had a sense of humor, and knowing that Classic does, warms his soul with fluttering fire as his grin stretches even wider. He taps on the text box to reply, when all of a sudden, Edge bursts into his room, screaming at him to help him with dinner. Red rolls his eyes, tosses his phone onto the bed, and follows his brother to the kitchen. The louder skeleton hands him a wooden spoon and orders him to stir the tomato sauce so it doesn’t burn while he chops up the mushrooms.  

“SO HAVE YOU PICKED OUT A RESTAURANT AND A MOVIE FOR FRIDAY?! HOW MUCH MONEY DO YOU HAVE SAVED UP?! WHAT ABOUT AN OUTFIT?”

“dude what are you talking about?”

“THE DATE! THAT YOU HAVE WITH THAT PAPAYA’S BROTHER! HAVE YOU ALREADY FORGOTTEN? OH DEAR ASGORE PLEASE DON’T TELL  ME YOU FORGOT”

“of course i haven’t forgotten. but dinner? money? outfit? i thought we were just gonna see a movie”

“DON’T BE AN IDIOT, RED! OF COURSE YOU NEED TO TAKE HIM TO DINNER AND WEAR SOMETHING NICE! IT’S A DATE, YOU FOOL! AND SINCE YOU’RE THE ONE THAT ASKED HIM OUT YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR EVERYTHING!”

“technically, you’re the one-”

Edge shoots him a death glare and throws his hands up into the air.

“fine. fine. i’ll scrap up whatever money i have and look for places to eat. i’ll get us tickets to see that sci-fi movie-”  

A sharp CLANK echos through the kitchen as Edge drops his knife in shock and horror.

“NO! ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE THIS THE WORST DATE OF ALL DATES? ACCORDING TO MY DATING MANUAL, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO TAKE HIM TO SEE A ROMANTIC MOVIE! NOT SOME STUPID FILM ABOUT SPACE AND GUNS!”

“but i don’t like-”

“IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT YOU LIKE, DO YOU WANT THIS BOY TO LIKE YOU OR NOT?!”

“...i do,”

“THEN JUST DO EVERYTHING I SAY AND NOTHING WILL GO WRONG! NYAHAHA!”

Red sighs and continues stirring the sauce. He might not like what his brother plans, but if it makes Classic happy, he’ll do it.

Classic stares at his phone, anxiously waiting for Red’s reply. The screen shows the “read at” receipt, yet no typing bubbles. Sighing, the skeleton tosses his phone on the ground and flops on his filthy bed, A few seconds later, he sits up again, grabs his phone, and checks for any new messages. Still nothing.

It’s alright. Maybe he’s busy or something, or got caught up in something else. It doesn’t mean that Red is ignoring him or anything like that, despite the obvious signs.

...

Maybe Classic should distract himself. He unzips his backpack, slides into his desk, and voluntarily does homework for the first time in his life.

Friday rolls around and Red is still avoiding Sans. He also hasn’t replied to Classic’s messages. At this point, he’s convinced that this whole thing was just a prank to mess with him, and that he’s only kidding himself in thinking that Red would actually go out with him. He should’ve known better than to get his hopes up. Slamming his locker in frustration and earning dirty glares from the students nearby, he walks off to his next class, definitely not thinking about strangling a certain attractive skeleton monster.

When he gets home, Classic throws off his socks, tosses his bag, discards his shirt and flops onto the couch, stretching his short limbs. He glances over at his phone, and sighs, checking it one last time for any new messages, yet still none. He didn’t know what he was hoping for to be honest. He flips on the tv and dozes off into a nap.

“CLASSIC!”

The short skeleton cracks one eye open, and rubs the sleep out of his eye socket.

“yeah bro?”

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS?!”

“uhh,” he checks his phone, “6:45?”

“EXACTLY! SO WHY AREN’T YOU EVEN DRESSED YET?!!!!!”

“dressed for what?”

“DON’T PLAY GAMES WITH ME, BROTHER. YOU KNOW EXACTLY FOR WHAT! YOU’VE BEEN DREAMING ABOUT RED FOR AGES AND YOU CAN’T EVEN GET YOURSELF DRESSED FOR A DATE???”

Classic sinks further into the couch, pulling blanket over him for comfort. He doesn’t meet his brother’s eyes, “that was...that was a mistake. there is no date, it was just a joke all along,”

“WHAT?!” Papaya takes a seat next to his brother and rubs his legs, a habit that he’s been doing to soothe the elder brother since they were kids, “DID SOMETHING HAPPEN?”

“no, nothing happened,” Classic shrugs, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice, “he avoided me all week, and didn’t even respond to my message. don’t worry about it, paps. i think i’m just gonna head to bed early.”

“NO YOU ARE NOT!” the other skeleton’s eye sockets blaze slightly, “I’M SURE THERE’S BEEN A MISUNDERSTANDING, LET ME JUST, I UH, I’M GOING TO  MAKE A PHONE CALL!”

Classic raises a bone brow as his brother leaps into the air, and sprints off into his room, slamming the door behind him. He could hear his brother’s loud voice, but couldn’t make out the words, and a few moments later Papaya exits his bedroom and runs into Classic’s. Alarmed, Classic immediately rushes to his room, finding his brother tossing clothes from his closet.

“bro what are you doing?!

“I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM BEING A GOOD BROTHER AND HELPING YOU GET DRESSED! YOU DON’T HAVE ANYTHING GOOD IN HERE EXCEPT WHITE SHIRTS AND BLUE JACKETS! A FASHION ABOMINATION!”

Classic sighs, and rubs his temples, “paps, i appreciate it, but i told you. there isn’t going to be a date. there’s no point.”

“AND WHAT IF YOU’RE WRONG? WHAT IF RED KNOCKS ON OUR DOOR IN TEN MINUTES AND YOU’RE NOT DRESSED? ARE YOU GOING TO TELL HIM THAT YOU DOUBTED HIM? HOW DO YOU THINK HE’S GOING TO FEEL?”

Classic doesn’t answer.

“I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU’RE HURT BROTHER, BUT GIVE HIM ONE LAST CHANCE! AND IF YOU’RE RIGHT, YOU CAN CHANGE BACK INTO YOUR UNDERWEAR, AND I’LL PUT ON A MOVIE FOR US TO WATCH TOGETHER TONIGHT INSTEAD!”

“heh...can’t argue with that bro. you’re so smart.”  

“NYEHEHE! OF COURSE I AM! NOW, PUT THIS ON! YOU’RE GOING TO LOOK AMAZING!”

Red tugs on his collar, sweat beating down his skull and staining his white button up shirt. His black slacks make him feel extremely stiff and the tie wrapped around his neck chokes him and it’s hard to breathe, but if Edge says that Classic will like this for whatever reason, then Red will bear through it. Gathering all of his courage, he coughs, then knocks on the door.

Papaya answers a second later, his eyes lighting up with glee.

“BROTHER!!! RED IS HERE!” he turns to Red, “TAKE CARE OF HIM OKAY? AND MAKE SURE THAT HE DOESN’T FALL ASLEEP DURING THE MOVIE!”

“uhh...okay?”

Classic appears at the door a minute later, his hands held behind his back, his gaze lowered, as a blue blush spreads across his face. Red’s eyes widen, his own face heating up, and his soul pounding in his chest. He definitely was not prepared for how cute Classic looks. A faded yellow turtleneck sweater hugs his body with his regular blue jacket wrapped around his waist and he sports a short pink skirt that flares out almost like a tutu.

Red is left speechless like an idiot, mouth agape and floundering for words to say.

“you actually came.”

Red gets knocked back to his senses, and tilts his head in slight confusion, “of course i came, why wouldn’t i?”

Classic’s eye lights flash with something that Red couldn’t recognize, but he brushes it off. Extending his hand, he remembers what Edge told him to say and forces it through his mouth.

“a-are you ready to go, m’lord?” Red extends his elbow out for Classic to wrap around.

The other skeleton visibly cringes and Red mentally hits himself for delivering it so badly, but Classic regains his composure, gives him a nervous smile, and takes his arm. Red leads him to Edge’s car that he borrowed ( “IT’S NOT GENTLEMEN-LIKE TO PICK SOMEONE UP ON A MOTORCYCLE!”) and speeds off to the restaurant that Edge also recommended.  An awkward silence passes between the two of them during the car ride, neither of them saying anything. Classic stares out the window at the passing cars and houses, making it difficult for Red to read his expression, so he decides to try and make small talk.

“so...nice weather we’re having...”

“huh? yeah i guess so. it’s nice and cool.”

“yeah...”

Nothing else was said during the rest of the ride. Red pulls up to a fancy looking diner with water fountains springing from the entrance and a valet parks the car for them. Classic’s eyes widen from the golden grandeur and he starts to back away slowly.

“hey, class, what’s wrong?”

“no, i, i can’t afford this place red, it’s too expensive, can we go somewhere else?”

Edge’s advice echoes in his mind, “WHATEVER HAPPENS, STICK TO THE PLAN!”

“i know it looks expensive, but it’s not that bad! i’ve eaten here many times!” Red lies, “besides, you don’t have to worry, i’ll pay for everything.”

“i don’t know red, i can’t possibly make you pay-”

“hey i got this! i’m the one that asked you out, or technically my brother did it for me, so i’ll take care of it!”

Classic flinches at the tone, his eyelights not meeting Red’s. He keeps his head down, but gives a small nod anyway. The two of them enter and are greeted by a snobbish waiter, who leads them to their seat and dismissively hands them their menus. Red’s eyes widen as he glances over the price and the food options, nearly having a heart attack. He doesn’t know what half of this shit is! And 80g for something called an aiguillette?! He sneaks a glance at Classic, who also seems to be having a tough time deciding. In the end, they both got the cheapest option, something called a “salade cesar” which they both should’ve known was just a salad. Red hates salad, and from the way Classic is picking at his food and forcing himself to eat, he does too.

Fuck fuck, this was not going as great as he thought. Classic looks miserable, and it’s his fault. He did that to him. He eyes Classic’s hand on the table and almost reaches out to touch him, comfort him, but Edge’s voice rings loudly in his head.

“NO TOUCHING TIL THE SECOND DATE!”

Red balls up his fists and asks for the check. They can fill up on popcorn.

The two of them arrived to the movie on time, but when Red tells Classic that he already bought the tickets for the romance movie, he wasn’t sure if he saw disappointment in his expression. He nervously brushes it off, hoping that the movie wasn’t going to be that bad.

Classic seems to relax a bit once the movie starts, much to Red’s relief. All he ever wanted was for him to have a good time, and he knows that he royally screwed it up. The movie begins to play, and already, Red is bored. His mind wanders, and something presses against his arm. He flinches, looking at the source. Classic blinks at the reaction, looking a bit hurt since he just wanted to rest his head, and shifts away from Red. Red mutters an apology, but it isn’t worth much. He spends the rest of the movie beating himself up and keeping his head down.

“red? red!”

Red snorts himself awake, completely alarmed by his unfamiliar surroundings and Classic’s face in front of him.

“wha?”

“the movie ended.”

Red’s mind clears up and he remembers that he’s on a date with his crush...and he fell asleep. on a date. with his crush. God he’s such an idiot.

“oh...”

Red’s face burns with embarrassment and he wordlessly leads Classic back to the car and drives him back home. He leads the other skeleton to the door but before Classic enters, he turns to Red.

“well this was....a date.”

“yeah, yeah it was.”

“i guess i’ll see you on monday then. maybe.”

“yeah. see you then.”

Red turns around and makes his way to Edge’s car, but stops, balling up his fists. No. He’s not going to let the night end like this. He’s not going to let his last chance slip.

“classic, wait!”

The other skeleton stops half way inside, tilting his head in curiousity as Red runs back up to him.

“look, this date was a disaster, i’m not going to lie.”

“ya think?” Classic mumbles under his breath.

“the thing is, i really like you, and i screwed up. i took my brother’s advice on everything, and now i see i shouldn’t have-”

“why did you ignore me all week?” Classic interrupts, his eyelights flashing with anger.

“i...i was just too nervous to talk to you. i have the biggest crush on you and when you said you’d go out with me tonight, i didn’t know how to react,” Red plays with the hem of his shirt, “so i just ran away. i didn’t stop to think about how you might’ve felt. i’m sorry.”

“and my messages?”

“messages?”

“you didn’t respond to them.” Classic crosses his arms sternly.

“the jokes? of course i did, i laughed and said...” Red’s eyes widen as he fishes his phone out of his pocket and checks his messages, realizing that he didn’t respond, “fuck! i saw them, but i forgot to reply. i’m so sorry.”

Classic just looks at him sadly. Red knows he’s disappointed and he can’t blame him.

“i’m sorry. about tonight, about everything. but i mean what i said though. i really like you, and if you can give me a second chance-”

Classic cuts him off by grabbing his sleeve and pressing a kiss against Red’s cheek. He blushes furiously as all functions in his brain shuts down, then reboots to process what just happened. Classic’s eyelights twinkle with amusement and he giggles at the shock on Red’s face.

“i’d like that red. and maybe this time, without your brother’s intervention?”

Unable to speak, Red just nods his head.

“good. i’ll see you monday. good night.”

Classic quietly shuts the door behind him.

A wide grin slowly stretches across Red’s face. His soul is pounding and leaping and shaking all at once, and he laughs to himself, unable to contain his happiness. As he walks to the car, Red pumps a fist of victory into the air.  

#underfell #undertale #underfell sans #undertale sans #underfell papyrus #undertale papyrus #highschool au #undertale headcanons #my writings #fluff #kustard #sanscest #uf sans x ut sans

[lady-silvernight]

Rockstar

I wrote a little Pynch oneshot because I was bored. It’s longer than I expected but I finished it. @todreamforever asked me to post it when I got done so here it is. Enjoy everybody.

Summary: Rockstar AU 

Ronan and Adam are internet pen pals but they have never met in person before. Ronan invites Adam to a concert only for Adam to arrive and Ronan to never show up. Ronan swears up and down he was there but Adam isn't convinced until Ronan sends him an unreleased song by the band that had played. Only then does Adam realize that the person he's been messaging for the last six years is the lead singer of his favorite band.

AO3   FFN 

New message from Ronan. Adam's phone blinked at him. He smiled and swiped to open the message. He had messaged Ronan on a whim a couple years ago and they had hit it off. Adam had tried a lot to broaden his horizons when he got to college and finding an internet pen pal became them. He'd never figured out what exactly Ronan did because they had never moved forward from messaging one another. Ronan never seemed to be in one place. Every time they were talking he was in a different time zone or he was working, or not sleeping at normal times. The fact that he messaged first must mean he wanted to talk really bad.

"I know this is kind of last minute but Dream Thief is playing near you next week. I have an extra ticket that I don't know what else to do with it. We can meet up."

Adam quickly typed out a reply.

"Please tell me you're not just a fan because the lead singer has the same name as you?"

"No. Do you want the ticket or not. I need to get it in the mail before the end of the day if it's going to get there in time." Ronan was like that sometimes. He would be nice one second and a complete ass the next but it was kind of endearing to be completely honest. 

"Of course I want it. I love Dream Thief. We've been talking for years and we've never bothered to even try and meet up. I'm excited to finally meet you in person. You've got my address, just make sure to express ship it." "Obviously. It will be there Monday. Don't lose it before the concert." Ronan replied. Adam smiled. 

Work the following week seemed tedious and boring but Adam threw himself into it knowing he was going to finally meet Ronan in a few days. He had taken Friday off so he could stay out late if Ronan wanted to. Not to mention Dream Thief was notorious for running late into the night and Adam would rather take the day off than try to work with just a few hours of sleep. His coworkers could tell something was up but they didn't pry too much. In the three years Adam had been working there he had never once taken a day off of work. Something strange must have been happening but they never approached him to ask. 

When Thursday finally arrived Adam did his best to stay focused at work but by three he was ready to get out of there and get ready. Near him happened to be the event center on the other side of town. Twenty minutes drive from his little apartment. Adam punched out at exact five and was pulling out of the parking lot ten minutes later. The concert started at eight so Adam texted Ronan he was on the way at seven fifteen and climbed into his car. Traffic was going to be ridiculous so Adam wanted to be early. 

By the time he managed to park he only had fifteen minutes to find his seat and Ronan. The ticket was for the floor seats near the front of the crowd. How Ronan had managed to afford two tickets for down here Adam didn't want to know. There were two empty seats in the row near the isle so Adam grabbed one and waited. 

People continued to file in and find seats but Ronan never appeared to take the empty seat.

"Hey man, where are you? The concert is going to start without you." Adam sent a quick text to Ronan and waited some more. The lights dimmed and the tour manager of Dream Thief, Richard Gansey, came out.

"Before the festivities start I want to thank everyone for coming tonight. This year has been tough with shifting tour dates around so much and we appreciate it all very much. A lot of work goes into putting on these shows, Henry wants you to know how hard he works to impress you guys and hopes you enjoy it all. Have a wonderful time everyone." He said. The crowd cheered as the lights dimmed and the fancy laser lights came up. Still no text from Ronan though.

"It's starting man, are you coming or not?" Adam texted. He didn't want to enjoy the first set as Dream Thief started playing with Ronan still not being there. By the end of it he was starting to get into it even if he was still pissed that Ronan hadn't shown up yet. A smaller band came on to perform in the middle while they reset some things for the finale. Ronan was two hours late at this point. Adam knew he wasn't coming but he still slipped out to call him in the hallway.

"Hey Ronan, It's Adam. I'm not sure what happened but it would have been nice to know that you had decided to bail on me. I'm still waiting if you want to come, the last set hasn't started yet. I doubt you'll be here but I can at least try." Adam left the message in Ronan's voicemail hoping he saw it in the morning and felt bad for ditching Adam here. He headed back to his seat and was surprised to find a girl waiting near his seat.

"Are you seat 162?" She asked looking up at him. Man this girl was short.

"What if I am?" Adam asked.

"My name is Blue and I'm a Roadie for Dream Thief. You were our random draw for dinner with Ronan Lynch tomorrow while he's still in town. He doesn't meet fans after the show so you would be one of the few who is meeting him on this tour. If you don't want to come it's up to you but I have to give you this and tell you that it's up to you what you want to do." She said handing him an envelope with his seat number on it. 

"Thanks but no promises. I'm a busy man."

"I understand." Blue said and then she headed back towards the stage. 

The last set started and Ronan never showed but Adam didn't give up hope until the last song started. Dream Thief always ended with their song Remembered. One of the guitarist's, Noah, sang most of that with Ronan backing him up. It was by far one of Dream Thief's most popular songs.

"Listen man, I don't know what the plan was tonight but it's not cool to stand up somebody like that. I don't know what you thought was going to happen but common courtesy is to tell someone if your plans fall through."  Adam texted Ronan before driving home. It was close to two AM by the time he finally crawled into bed and he was forever grateful he had taken the day off of work. After sending one more angry text to Ronan he fell asleep.

"How was the concert?" Adam couldn't believe it. Not even an apology or an explanation for what had happened, just a simple question.

"you tell me. You were supposed to be there." Adam replied.

"I was. It was good. Remembered still gives me the chills."

"Why didn't you answer any of my texts then? Or at least tell me that we didn't have seats next to one another?"

Ronan didn't reply to that. Adam shook his head and stuck his phone on the charger before cooking something for a quick lunch. He'd slept late and decided an early lunch made more sense than breakfast today. His phone buzzed a couple times while he cooked and ate but he ignored it. He had the day off work so nobody else was messaging him. By the time he finished eating he had seven new text messages and an email from Ronan. 

"As terrible as this sounds, I didn't have my phone on me most of the night. The one time I had it I didn't get a chance to reply.”

"I know that's a shitty excuse but it's all I have for you."

"I'm sorry. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Adam, please?"

"Here, I'll make it up to you. I emailed you one of the new songs that technically hasn't been released yet.  Don't share it with anyone else."

"I don't know what else to do."

"Adam?"

Adam shook his head as he opened his email. It was blank aside from an attached mp3 file labeled Foil. Turning up the volume he clicked play to hear the voice of Ronan Lynch.

"This is probably the worst way to tell you this but it’s the best way I can think of so here goes. These past few years messaging you have been amazing Adam, and I want to meet you so bad but the tour schedule is killing me. I'll figure out some way to meet you I'm sure. Anyway, this song is for you. I'll probably record it for the next album but you can know that it's for you." Adam scrambled to pause it. The Ronan he had been talking to for the last few years was The Ronan Lynch. Lead singer of the headlining band Dream Thief. With hands shaking he pressed play and listened.

At first I walked alone, I treaded waters unknown, I had a path laid out for me A plan for everything. But some things have changed, That path has moved again, The only factor, The only thing that's changed, Is you, My foil….

The song had been playing on repeat for the last hour. As soon as it had ended Adam had rewound it to the beginning again. He had searched through all the forums about Dream Thief's new album. There was supposed to be fourteen songs on the one that just came out but one had gotten cut and the other had just disappeared a couple weeks before the release. 

Adam wasn't paying attention and the last little piece of the file started playing as the song ended.

"that should do it. Track thirteen is a wrap. Keep this one under wraps. I'm going to release this one maybe a touch later. It's for Ad-, someone special." The voice said on the recording. Adam looked up sharply when they had stumbled over their words there at the end. It had almost sounded like he had said a name there, his name.

He thought for a second, staring at the phone before grabbing it and doing the one thing he had wanted to do for three years. 

He called Ronan.

They had been talking for almost six years now and never once had they had a conversation that didn't involve their screens. They had gotten comfortable with the text messaging and the occasional random photo of not each other. They had no idea what each other looked like aside from the basic descriptions. He'd never even heard Ronan's voice until now.

"Hello?"

"Are you still in town?" Adam asked before he could lose his nerve and hang up.

"Maybe, depends on who's asking?" The voice on the other end replied sounding a bit defensive.

"Shit sorry, It's Adam. Are you still in town?"

"Adam? Really? It's been six goddamn years and you finally got the nerve to call me." Ronan laughed. "Yea, I'm in town still. You want to meet up somewhere?"

"There's a pizza place on 42nd. It's not very well known but it's pretty good. Closest thing I could find to the pizza place from my hometown. I'll send you the address and I'll meet you there in an hour." Adam said as he mentally ran through what he had for clean clothes right now.

"I'll be there."

"Ask for a spot near the front windows. It's fun to watch the people go by on the street. I'll see you in an hour." Adam replied.

"See you in an hour." Ronan said then hung up. 

Adam's hands were shaking as he pulled his phone away from his ear. He was actually going to meet Ronan. For real this time. He texted the address to Ronan before opening his closet to find something to wear. The place they were headed was fairly casual so he settled on a faded Coke t-shirt and a nice pair of jeans with a nice black jacket. With one last check in the mirror he grabbed his keys and headed downtown to meet Ronan.

It was almost seven by the time he got there and the dinner crowds were starting to thin out already. Two of the tables by the window were free already. Adam checked his phone quickly to see a message from Ronan.

Tell them you are Adam. I said I was waiting for you.

Ronan was already here. He was in one of the seats by the window. Adam hurried inside.

"How many for you?" The lady at the courtesy table asked.

"My name's Adam. Someone should be waiting for me." He said. She smiled and grabbed a menu before heading for the last table by the window. Ronan was sitting with his back to the door so Adam couldn't see his face till the lady set down his menu and walked off again. 

"I take it you liked the song?" Ronan asked. Adam just stared in awe for a second. Ronan, his internet friend of six years, was Ronan Lynch, the lead singer of Dream Thief.

"It was great. Why didn't you release it?" Adam finally replied. 

"I wrote it after that night I stayed up texting you until almost five. You were the only thing between me and making some very bad decisions. I wanted you to hear it before the general public heard it. Originally I wasn’t even planning on recording it but Noah found the lyrics and brought them to one of our sessions. Everybody else seemed to like it even if they didn't know what it meant.”

"Why did you never tell me though? I thought you decided I wasn't worth meeting when you didn't show last night."

"I was afraid of what you would say. People sometimes change how they act when they find out they are talking to a celebrity. I liked our basically anonymous relations." Ronan said.

They chatted over dinner before heading to the park nearby to talk while the sun set. It was dark by the time they made it back to Adam's car.

"I'm glad I finally got to meet you." Adam said with a smile. Ronan grinned.

"Same here. Next time, you're coming on tour with me so we can do this all over the world." Ronan replied. With a soft kiss on Adam's cheek Ronan turned and headed towards his car on the other side of the parking lot.

(One year later)

"Get your lazy ass out of bed. We need to load the bus." Ronan shouted smacking Adam with a pillow.

"I'm entitled to at least a few hours of sleep in a real bed before four months on the road." Adam groaned holding the pillow to him.

"You haven't seen our bus yet. We have a real bed this time." Ronan said.

"And Chainsaw is a dog now. There is no way you convinced Gansey to redo the bus just for us." Chainsaw cawed from her cage in the corner where Ronan had started moving their bags.

"I told him to can it and then paid for it myself."

"Fine. Where did you put my stuff?" Adam said getting out of bed.

"It's on the chair where you left it. I'm taking a load of stuff out. Best get moving before Blue comes to yell at you." Ronan said. Adam smiled and gave Ronan a quick kiss before jumping in the shower.

Dream Thief's Chosen tour started in a week and Adam was going with. After all, it would look bad if Ronan Lynch's new boyfriend didn't make an appearance.

#trc #pynch #ronan lynch #adam parrish #rockstar au

[angeltriestoblog]

Unnecessary life update

i.

I have officially made it to the halfway point of this quarter. And I don’t mean to sound morbid but I didn’t expect to at all!

It’s just that I’ve recently learned that chronic sleep deprivation actually does lead to premature death and I’ve slept at three in the morning everyday since I started online schooling. (Though actual scientific evidence has always been available on the Internet, I found it easier to believe that this was a hoax.) But concerning as it may be, the past two weeks have been so demanding of my time and energy, resting didn’t seem like an option.

ii.

Much to the dismay of Freshman Angel, most organizations in Ateneo require an interview as part of the application process. I remember signing up for three departments in my home org back then: I sweated my way through one screening, completely flunked the other, and ghosted the last. I also applied to be part of our hosting pool and made a run for it at the last minute: despite having spent only two weeks on campus, I easily found a secret passageway leading to the nearest exit just so that I wouldn’t have to run into the officer in charge of my audition.

Given the unfortunate display of cowardice, it’s hard to believe that this year, I found myself on the other side. I conducted several ICs (rebranded to individual conversations) in an attempt to welcome freshmen, give them a picture of what awaits them in ACTM, and hopefully serve as one of their first friends, if I built enough rapport with them. 

The week after, I had to conduct interviews and screen all hopefuls who wanted to make it into my department. I only spoke with 13 of them through a screen but I had to go through three times more application forms, interview footage, and assessments to determine who would make it to our final line-up. One night, I binge-watched the recordings of all the interviews I conducted in chronological order and I didn’t know if I found my waning energy levels depressing or funny. Toward the last few, I refused to turn on my camera because I had gotten a sudden allergy attack.

iii.

And as if the load I bear as an associate vice president in ACTM wasn’t heavy enough, I joined five other orgs last recruitment week. I wouldn’t go and call the quarantine a blessing because I’m not an asshole but these past few months have made me realize that I want to do and be so many things in life and I missed the opportunity to start on them earlier, since I spent the first few years of college hanging around with no end goal in mind. So in a fit of impulsiveness, I signed up for:

The Development Society of the Ateneo, where I will be working either as an advocacy or consultancy trainee under the research and development department (depends on how my interview this Thursday fares);

Ateneo Education Geared Towards Empowerment, where I will be gathering data from our partner communities to help the organization provide quality education given the online setting;

Ateneo Association of Communication Majors, where I will be under the research and development department yet again of MIRLab, their documentary production house;

Ateneo PEERS, where I will be part of a peer support program intended to help in my self-improvement, and that of others as well;

Project Kabuhayan, where I will be participating in initiatives geared towards empowering micro, small, and medium enterprises

I had general assemblies for most of them: had to ditch two for a midterm, and will be watching the recordings tomorrow. I didn’t even have to talk in any of them; simply watch the officers speak about their projects for the year then head on over to my designated breakout room. But the mere idea of being perceived by hundreds of Zoom call participants was already enough to drain my social battery.

iv.

To top it all off, my major tasks for all three subjects I’m taking this quarter were due last Friday. I had a group podcast for Philosophy class which we had to shoot twice on the busiest day of my week. I wanted nothing more than to get it over with, so when we wrapped up our first attempt, we were ready to let it go through some rushed post-production and submit it without giving it a second look. But I couldn’t stomach the thought of submitting subpar work when the task is supposed to be easy, given enough discipline.

Another group I was a part of had a marketing plan (you’ll never guess which subject it was for) that proposed the rebranding of Adidas Originals to cater to an older target market, or “the active ageing”, as we liked to call it. We only found out a couple of hours before the deadline that our professor was not accepting anything over 10 pages just when we had hit the 40-page mark. All of our well-researched, comprehensive parts had to be cut down significantly, which was the equivalent of flushing many sleepless nights down the drain.

And of course, I had a case study and midterm to accomplish for Law. The minute I received the message confirming the submission of my answers, I plopped down on my bed and napped. Later on that night, I released all the pent-up tension in me by going on my first ever e-numan. I never got the logic behind drinking alcohol in front of my computer: I always thought it was a sad attempt to replicate the bustling nightlife of Katip or the intimate energy of barkada chillnumans in condominiums. But I guess all I needed was the right company, and some sweet-tasting Novellino.

Anyway, before this turns into a full-on advert for a brand that isn’t even sponsoring this post, let me move on.

Reading that probably exhausted you. As the one who had to live through all that, I can tell you: it was even more hectic than you think. Before this pandemic was a thing, my schedule was clear-cut. I could tell the days of the week apart, and appreciate the endless possibility brought by Friday evenings. I could wake up at eight on Saturday morning, smile to myself because of how early it is, and go back to sleep without any feelings of guilt.

Now, the line that separates work and home has been completely obliterated. The Internet promotes that I have to be at the top of my game all the time. Every moment spent in rest and recreation is a moment wasted when there’s so much to do, always somewhere to be even if I’m technically not allowed to leave the comfort of my own home. 

I would sometimes report to my friends that I threw my circadian rhythm out the window, which would be met with the same well-meaning outcries. “What the hell! Drop all your commitments! Pace yourself! Sleep early!”. I think they know by now that this often falls on deaf ears. Ironically, whenever I observe or hear of friends falling into the same patterns as me, I’m often one of the first to reprimand. I sentence them to early bedtime like a stressed suburban mother of two, and check in on them constantly to see if they’re doing alright. I tell them not to pressure themselves to perform at their very best, while working myself to the bone, writing this ~2,000 word essay at half past two in the morning.

But one conversation I had with one of my friends stood out. He told me how proud he was of me: that even if I’m so busy juggling so many things, it all pays off in the end because I’m genuinely happy and fulfilled. I get to see the fruits of my labor and share it with the world.

Which is so true. I honestly enjoy the success that comes from this hyperproductivity, and take pride in the output that I manage to churn out. I’m willing to give up hours of sleep if it means getting to do what will help me make my pipe dreams a reality, or create something that sets my soul on fire.I don’t mind going out of my comfort zone if it’s to talk to new people who have the potential of being some of my greatest friends in the future, or advocating for causes that I’m passionate about. 

In fact, I am so willing to prolong my period of working to welcome the new members of my department or create even more articles to talk about pressing cultural phenomena. It will be hard as hell while the sacrifice is still ongoing but I always know that it will lead to something greater and bigger than I am. 

Besides, when I feel like I can no longer take it, I don’t think I’ll have it in me to force myself. It might not look like it but I am afraid of the serious health risks and will try to slot in more time for sleep if need be. But I have no plans of backing out of anything right now since I’m still on top of everything. Guess I’m fueled by a genuine desire to give/be/do as much as I can, while I still can. 

v.

Where did this post even go, honestly… This was supposed to be a simple life update, complete with a pop culture recommendation to supplement my experiences. I did not expect it to spiral the way it did so now I have no idea how to transition from one part to the next in a way that isn’t entirely awkward. Oh well.

I managed to preserve my sanity these past two weeks by listening to only one artist. Anyone who follows me on Spotify must think that their Friend Activity tab is glitching but the rumors are indeed true: I have been listening to chosen songs from The Boyz’ discography on a constant loop, like an actual zombie. Count on me to get into a new K-Pop group during the busiest week of the quarter as a coping mechanism.

I was an anti of this group when they first debuted because they are home to a former Produce 101 contestant whom I hated. (Still do, up to now. Don’t know how to reconcile my conflicting feelings.) So you could say I was heavily biased from the start and refused to give them a chance. Thankfully, one of my best friends recently converted after watching them on Road to Kingdom and sent me some of their performances to reel me in. Since I am a girl with a working brain and pair of eyes, I was easily impressed. When they came back recently with The Stealer, I officially fell and made no active efforts to get up.

If there are any Deobis reading, (1) congrats, you are a person of taste; (2) please be my friend. My current favorite songs other than their latest title track are No Air, I’m Your Boy, and Break Your Rules. I’ve also started most mornings with their Danger live stage. Who needs caffeine when you have acrobatic stunts and good-looking men?

I also have a lot of exciting things coming up, which I just felt the need to share:

I’m going to be a panelist at a talk for Developh, an organization I’m a part of which leverages technology for social good. This Friday, October 16th, I’ll be joining three brilliant go-getters from different fields to talk about my internship at makesense Philippines (which warrants another blog post) as well as my experience as a freelance writer. 

I have a couple of published pieces in the pipeline right now that I absolutely cannot wait to share! I honestly think they’re some of my favorites. Over the past few weeks, I have written about Internet study communities, the Subtle Asian Dating Facebook group, and unpaid internships. I’ve also pitched a couple more to my bosses and they’ve given me the green light at the same time so yes, once again, I am running on tight deadlines.

I’ll be applying for internships once this quarter is over and I’m already considering a couple of start-ups as good prospects. I’m making my personalized CVs for each company and saving the contact details of the designated point people in a neat little Notion spread for easy access.

Feels weird to end this post with stay safe and healthy, and don’t forget to rest. Maybe I’ll just make that a note to self.

Love and light,

Angel

#angeltriestoblog #life updates

[unavenged-robin]

Are you still taking family prompts? If so, I'd love to read something for “Here, I’ll zip you up.” with Tim and Damian :) Love your writing and your blog!!

I’m always taking prompts :D And thank you very much, I had a lot of fun writing this and I really hope you like it!

Read on AO3

It’s one of those weeks - you know the ones.

It starts with three WE accountants turning rogue. It’s honestly more annoying than surprising, since it’s almost Christmas and there are a lot of year-end financial statements to be done. And, still in the name of honesty, Tim’s already done enough of them to understand how someone could think that turning to crime would be a better life choice.By thursday the head of HR starts her own crime empire, and when they schedule a meeting about it everybody in the department claims that they knew she’d end up doing something like that, what with all the pictures of the Joker on her desk, and Tim has to make a tremendous effort not to point out that maybe, maybe, that issue should’ve been brought up before their boss started robbing banks.

Today is - thankgodforsmallmercies - friday, and in the morning someone in the technical department decided it was a good day to bring their expertise to Two Face’s business. Tim didn’t even ask about details, just marched into his own office, shut the door behind him, and let the police deal with it. In a few hours he’ll go home, put on the Red Robin costume and go help them anyway.“Don’t you check these people background before hiring them?” Damian asks, sitting at Tim’s desk, surrounded by piles of books taller than him. He looks like a baby accountant from hell, what with the suit and the scowl and his feet not reaching the floor and the embezzlement of everything Tim owns, but the desk and the computer and the pens really are a small price to pay for his help, as much as Tim hates to admit it.

And it’s not like he didn’t ask literally anyone else before deciding to put away both his pride and his survival instinct and recruit Damian to help him with this mess, but Bruce is in Hong Kong with Alfred and Cass, and Dick had smiled apologetically at him and said something like “sorry, I’m not so good with numbers, little bird” - and well, Tim knows it’s not really true but also true enough not to push. Jason could help - Tim knows he could, because as much as the bastard likes to play dumb they both know he’s really not - but when asked he just laughed to his face. Barbara didn’t laugh but was already overwhelmed with her work, and Stephanie had blatantly thrown a piece of her waffle at him.

So yeah, his thirteen year old ex-assassin little brother was basically the most qualified and experienced of them, and the only one that actually agreed to help - although not without a little convincing and blackmailing, but yeah, Tim was borderline desperate there.

“You know we do”, he answers absent-mindedly, sitting on the floor with his laptop on his crossed legs and reaching for a book from one of his own piles. “We have one of the most strict job screening process in the city, as a matter of fact.”

“It’s obviously inefficient”, Damian retorts. And well, he’s not wrong. Then again, this is Gotham, and in Gotham sometimes perfectly normal people turn into criminals out of nowhere. It’s just a fact.

“So what do you propose? A trial by combat?”, Tim snaps, without really meaning it. He’s tired. Having to pull double shifts both at WE - to cover for the fugitive staff - and as Red Robin - to cover Batman’s absence - means that he’s getting so little sleep that he’s actually beginning to be affected by it, and since his sleeping schedule has never been anything less than disastrous, that’s literally saying something.

Damian shoots him a disdainful look but doesn’t start a fight like he would normally do, and Tim realizes with a pang of guilt that Damian and Robin are both pulling the same hours as he is, and if Tim is wrecked by it, than he can’t even begin to imagine how the brat’s still standing (or, well, still sitting straight at least).

He ventures an attentive glance in Damian’s direction for the first time today and, yeah, it’s not good. Chin resting on his hand and lips tightly pressed together, the kid has dark bags under his eyes, and despite the furrowed brow Tim can see his eyelashes dropping while he reads. Under them, his eyes are red and swollen, and that’s mostly Damian’s own fault because when Tim offered him his reading glasses not only had the demon spawn refused, but he’d been also very descriptive about what he would do with them if Tim had dared to insinuate doubts about his perfect vision again. Still, the pang of guilt becomes a stab wound and Tim clears his throat.

“I’m getting some coffee, you want something?”, he offers.

“Tt.”

“Tea it is, then”, Tim decides, standing up and sending his laptop crashing on the floor at the same time.

“Shit.”

Damian, never one to be too tired to mock one of his siblings when fair mocking is in order, snorts at him.

“Shut up!”, Tim shouts, kneeling down to pick the computer up, then he takes a look at the cracked screen and at the notifications that just popped up and swears again. “Shit, shit, shit!”

This time Damian only huffs.

“You have dozen of laptops laying around”, the brat reminds him. “Quit being a whiny baby about it and go back to work.”

“It’s not the computer, it’s the press conference”, Tim explains in a frustrated sigh. “The one we’re supposing to have right now. Jesus, why didn’t you remind me? Why nobody reminded me?”

“Do I look like your secretary, Drake?”, Damian asks, sounding genuinely offended, but Tim can see the guilt flashing behind his eyes. He forgot too. Good. One thing less the little demon will be able to use against him once Bruce comes back and asks for a report. “As for the last surviving minions you call staff, they called themselves sick right after the tech maniac burned half the computers as an homage to Two Faces.”

“Right. Okay. Fine”, Tim sighs. He takes a look at his watch, at the broken laptop, at Damian, and then at the watch again.

“We’re still in time to be fashionably late instead of just rude”, he decides, and in three swift motions he grabs his coat, Damian’s jacket and the brat’s hand and heads for the door. “Let’s go.”

Damian stumbles behind him, caught off guard by the sudden gesture, and they’re almost at the elevators before he regains enough composure to curse at him.

“Yeah, yeah”, Tim answers, completely unimpressed, and steps into the cabin. “Just put your coat on, it’s freezing outside and the last thing I need is for you to get sick.”

He listens to a quite imaginative - although pretty short for Damian’s standards - string of insults with one hear while trying to put in order the bunch of post-it that are supposed to be his speech for today (not an easy task, what with them being all sticky and clinging on his fingers and on his jacket and on about everything else near him, grumpy demon spawn included).

He fishes out the last of them from the back pocket of his pants, removes another from Damian’s shoulder and once they hit the ground floor he’s pretty confident on having them all collected (and if not, well, he’s very good at improvising).

The first thing he notices when he steps out of the elevator is that between the police, the journalists, the receptionists and the now officeless IT crew, the atrium is pretty much packed with people. The second thing he notices is that Damian’s not behind him anymore.

“Damian?”

He looks around and finds him still by the elevators, slouched against a wall, trying to support himself with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other. Tim quickly retraces his steps and he’s already reaching out to him when Damian raises his head and shoots him a poisonous glare.

“I’m fine”, he growls, and immediately straightens himself up. “Let’s go.”

The brat stiffly walks past him, and Tim hesitates, torn between a rancorous whatever and a more indulgent understanding. Being a brother is not an easy job, but being Damian’s brother is something else entirely. And that means he needs to be smart about this.

Walking besides him, Tim lets the kid reach the entrance, then puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Put your coat on”, he repeats, and Damian turns around, probably to snap at him again, but Tim tilts his head in the direction of the crowd of journalists waiting beyond the glass doors and just a few feet from them.

Damian glares both at them and at him, for a few seconds seems to consider punching Tim anyway, then he growls and caves in and Tim feels himself frowning a bit more at the way the kid’s tired fingers fumble with the buttons of his coat.

Sighing, and praying Damian’s too tired to immediately react with the indignation he knows his gesture’s going to cause, Tim goes down on his knee in front of his younger brother.

“Here, I’ll zip you up”, he says out loud, for all the bystanders to hear (and also to remind Damian that there are bystanders).

Taken aback again - for the second time in less than ten minutes, Tim is definitely going to mark the day on his calendar - Damian only blinks and looks down at him.

“You do realize that my coat doesn’t have a zip, right?”

Tim scoffs, quickly finishes buttoning him up, then makes a show to adjust the collar of Damian’s jacket while grabbing it and pulling the kid closer to him.

“Shut it, baby Satan, and listen”, he retorts, lowering his voice to a conspiratory tone. “I’m stuck with this press bullshit thing but I need you to go back to my office and look at the surveillance videos from this morning. See if the tech psycho dropped any hint on where he was going to meet Two Faces. I forgot to do it and I don’t want the police to confiscate the videos before we look at them.”

“So you forgot to do your homework and I have to do it for you?”, Damian asks, raising an eyebrow, then he opens his mouth again to what Tim imagines is going to be a long, arrogant and contemptuous rant, and since he’s trying to be nice here and doesn’t want to have reasons to regret it, he cuts him off right away.

“You said you were going to help”, he reminds him. “And I still have that footage from the last time you snuck out with Jon. Bruce is not going to be happy about it.”

Damian closes his mouth and narrows his eyes in what he’d probably like to be another death glare, but truth to be told, he only looks sleepy as hell, with that frown and his puffy eyes and messy hair, and in a momentary lapse of reason Tim just really, really wants to hug him.

“Please”, he adds instead, and that kind of does the trick.

“You owe me, Drake”, Damian answers. “And I will collect.”

Tim solemnly nods and stands up again.

“I’ll be up in one hour top to help you, okay?”, he adds, just to steady his bluff.

As expected, Damian’s answer is less than polite.

-

The press conference ends two hours later, and when Tim finally goes back to his office he finds Damian exactly where he thought he’d be: asleep at his desk with the surveillance videos still running on the computer screen in front of him.

He weighs for a moment the idea of moving him from the desk to the couch - not because he cares about the demon spawn’s sleep but because his office chair is really comfy and he’d like to have it back after almost a week of sitting on the floor, thank you very much - but in the end he decides that it’s not really worth it. Damian deserves some sleep and Tim deserves some quiet.

So he walks towards the desk and just wraps his own coat around Damian’s shoulder. Noticing the pink flutter of one surviving post-it sticking from the back of his jacket, he picks it up, draws a smiley face on it and, after a moment of hesitation, gently pushes it against Damian’s forehead until it sticks there. Then, since the kid is still completely out of it and Tim’s tired and nowhere near a good night sleep, but mostly because whatever, he smiles too and ruffles his brother’s hair for good measure.

#tantalum-cobalt #tim drake #damian wayne #red robin #robin #prompt meme #inbox #my fic #shari writes

[poptarts-and-rainbows]

It’s been 96 hours.

Personal story/venting time. I’m trying to get sober.

I don’t have any friends where I’m located- which is my own fault, I have a tendency to isolate myself while I warm up to new environments enough to feel comfortable talking to people (and I’m moving again in a couple months, so I honestly don’t really even see the point in going through the effort of getting to know people and learning to care about them, just to leave and have to say goodbye and hurt again in March).

Plus, I’ve been spiraling for a bit, so the couple of long-distance friends that I *can* talk to about things are probably starting to get sick of my drama. The last few weeks have been especially difficult and they’ve had to help me a lot. Not to mention, the one is on vacation in Vegas right now and the other is hanging out with her boyfriend tonight, and I don’t want to bother her.

So… here I am, screaming into the void of Tumblr again.

I’ll keep all other details under the cut because it’s kind of a lot, and most people won’t care or want to see this all over their dash.

Anyway. I’ve had a problem with drinking for… close to the last 9 (ish) years. The first couple of years weren’t actually problematic levels, but that’s when I first learned I love the burn of alcohol. Especially vodka. Before I could purchase my own supply I didn’t really drink all of that often- it was just hard to get my hands on and I hadn’t learned how to function during a hangover yet, so one good binge could keep me tied over for a while, back before I finally turned 21.

Then, as it goes, things got progressively worse. I developed a severe problem quite rapidly. Honestly… it started almost immediately. I guess it was always just waiting.

The weekend of my 21st birthday, the very first time I legally went to a bar, I nearly died- Trexx. I didn’t know it at the time, but my friends were trying to get me to come out, so they took me to the best gay bar in all of Syracuse. Plus, Thursday nights? College night. Buy one get one free, all night, and the best Drag Show I’ve ever seen (I’ve been to a few since then- in different States and in other countries).

My birthday was on a Monday that year. That night I went out to a restaurant and my friend bought me a beer with dinner- but liquor has always been my vice (although I did foray into the world of wine for a while, as it is more socially acceptable to be a wino than drink a bottle of vodka alone), so I sipped politely on my glass of Blue Moon and just bid my time until Thursday.

When Thursday finally came, not only did I throw back 18 drinks in about four hours, my dumb drunk-ass barricaded myself in the bathroom stall (of which there were only two) to throw up, and then drifted in/out of consciousness for several minutes. With there only being two stalls, people noticed- and it was actually one of the Drag Queens got me out.

I couldn’t even see clearly when I opened my eyes, but I recognized her green wig. I’d spoken to her earlier in the night, one of my friends was a “Townie” (born and raised in Syracuse, but also going to the school) and knew her, and she’d bought me a drink in celebration of my big day, and gave me the chip for the second free drink too. When she helped pull me to my feet, she called me sweetie and asked if I was ok. I brushed the concern off with an easy smile and told her I would go look for my friends- she let me go.

When I went into the main room, the bouncer did not. I guess I was obviously out of it. I was probably stumbling and about to pass out, or puke right there on the floor. I still couldn’t see anything, but I still remember hearing him say “this one is done” and feeling him grab my shoulders. The next thing I knew, I was outside on my hands and knees in the snow. I wanted to just lay down, but I kept thinking “I’m right in front of the door. If I stay here, I’ll be in the way and people will step on me.”

So I got up, wearing nothing but flats, skinny jeans, and a t-shirt, in the middle of winter in Upstate New York, and stumbled down the road. I found a stoop about a block away and sat down. I threw up over the guard rail and stayed there until the bar was closing, about two hours later. People had passed by pretty consistently, a few had asked if I was ok- but, because I couldn’t talk, I would just hold up my thumb and they would keep moving. One group, at closing time, stopped and asked if I want to Syracuse University- I nodded, they said they would take me back to campus, and I reluctantly agreed. I couldn’t stop shivering. Then one of the girls in the group recognized me, I had pink streaks in my hair at the time and we’d also met earlier that night through my Townie friend, so she went back inside to get my friends who had been freaking out for hours. I made it home fine, but I missed all of my classes the next day and threw up until Monday.

That was just the beginning. My first real introduction ended in disaster, but it didn’t stop me.

I was recovered by the next weekend and did it again. Then again… and again. I learned not to wander off, but I always drank hard and fast. I didn’t even make it to my 22nd birthday before I had friends telling me they were worried. That summer, my mom gave me a book about drinking too much (”Smashed”). The author actually also went to Syracuse. I skimmed it with mild interest, but she started drinking when was 14. I was an adult. What I did was legal, and nothing really bad had ever really happened. I was fine.

The next semester began and I got better at hiding it. I bought bottles and drank, secretly, in my room when I was supposed to be studying- it was cheaper than going out anyways, and nobody else had to know. When my friends and I did go out, I would split off “to meet another group” after so I could go get obliterated at the bar closest to my apartment, without worrying anybody. It was college, anyways. Land of keg stands and unlimited beer pong. Everyone did it, I was fine.

Right before my 23rd birthday, I joined the Army. During the first 8 weeks (Basic Training),  there was no alcohol. Hell, we were excited when we were allowed to have chocolate milk! Through that time, I didn’t miss drinking- but, it was mostly because they literally worked us to exhaustion every single day. There was no time to miss it.

After Basic, we left to our Advanced Individual Training locations (technical training), but we still lived under a lot of rules. We could earn different privileges/freedoms, but we still technically weren’t supposed to drink, but it didn’t take long for the people who earned the right to leave base early in our training cycle to start coming back to us with stories of bars, parties, and getting wasted.

By that time, I was close to 3 months sober- and I hadn’t even had to try! I didn’t crave it right away, but they reminded me it existed. I didn’t earn my off-post privileges for a while, so I had one of my friends smuggle me back a bottle of vodka in a jug of orange juice as soon as I could- and, oh god, the first familiar burn of that liquor… it felt like going home. Getting my friends who were allowed off base to bring me back alcohol was harder than getting older students to buy it for me when I was a Freshman, though, so I was still fine.

Once we graduated and all joined the “Real” Army, however, those restrictions were gone. When I was off duty, nobody cared what I did (drinking-wise), as long as I was back by morning and able to do my job.

In the beginning, I was still new to the Army. I was still scared of everyone, this whole new world I lived it, and I desperately wanted to make a good impression. So I only drank on the weekends, Friday and Saturday nights, like a sensible person.

Did I still drink excessively those two nights a week, loosing track of how many shots I had after eight or nine? Did I eventually start finishing a whole bottle of vodka in a single weekend, alone? Yeah… and then that bottle became one and a half. Then I started to chase my hard liquor with wine coolers. Eventually, two nights weren’t enough. I started throwing Wednesday night in to the mix, too- it was middle of the week, after all! It was just to get my through to the weekend. Then it was any night I knew I didn’t have to run the next morning, because running while you’re hung over really sucks (and when you sweat it smells like straight liquor, and other people know). Then I stopped even caring about that.

There were months, on and off, that weren’t so bad, of course. I either just, naturally, didn’t feel like drinking during those times, or our training schedule was just too intensive. When things got bad, my roommate and some of my closer friends would periodically express concern,  so I would back off. I wouldn’t drink for a few nights in a row, keep it on the down low during the week, sip on more water between shots during the next couple of weekends, and learn to throw up quieter in the bathroom- until people stopped looking so closely again, because people only see what they want to see. Then the cycle would start over.

It’s the Army, though. Just like college- most of us drink, and more than we should. It’s part of the culture! It’s what is expect from us and among us. With the company I kept… occasionally there was concern, yes, but most of them weren’t much better off than me. I was still fine.

Until I wasn’t.

Last year happened- and… I’d lost my best friend (tag: “Dear A”). I couldn’t sleep. I could barely function. I hid in the bathroom and cried at work. I had headaches all of the time experienced the second most severe depressive episode of my life. I didn’t know what to do, I was alone in the beginning there too, so I turned to alcohol- the solace that was always there for me, that was never too busy, or left, the thing that could make me forget how much everything hurt- and things started to get out of control, more so than ever before.

At first it was excused, laughed off- the military drinks. In Korea we drink more. I was expected to be sloppy at first, but I never found my groove. I started ignoring my limits. I put myself in dangerous situations, and things did happen there. I blacked out more often than not. Sometimes I couldn’t even find my room. I would fall, get hurt, and not remember how it happened. I even chipped my front tooth. I spent more than one morning puking at work, for hours. My supervisor had to peel me off my floor and roll me onto my side on more than one occasion. I was sent to the hospital three times. Eventually, I was given an ultimatum- get my shit together, or be forced to see professionals. I got my shit together. For a while.

My last couple of weeks in Korea passed without any incident anyone else knew about. I still drank, but it was like before, when I could manage it and keep it to myself. I did it quietly, and nobody knew the difference. 

I got to Kentucky in the beginning of June- it’s been full two months, and in those two months months, I have literally spent more days drunk than I have spent sober. Not a drink or two after work, not pleasantly buzzed, but drunk. It’s been mostly harmless, I don’t leave my room. I’ve cried a bit, slept on my kitchen floor a couple of times, and have had to make a few phone calls to be talked off the ledge on a few separate nights, but mostly… I still thought I was fine.

Then drinking every day, it became- “hey, I woke up still drunk this morning, I’m going to have one shot- just one- before work.” Then that shot had to be a double instead, of course, because what’s one shot really going to do for me? I drove to work, without incident (“this actually isn’t that hard”), drove back home for lunch. Three more shots, no food. Go back to work. Pick up a new bottle when I was on my way home at the end of the day. Drink until I pass out. Repeat.

Last Friday, while blacked out, I apparently stumbled my way out of my room and towards the parking lot- some people who work in the same office building as me saw and asked what I was doing. According to them, I said I was going to get my cigarettes from my car- but because I could barely stand up straight, they sat me down and gave me some of theirs instead, and then made sure I got back to my room safe. The thing is, I didn’t have any cigarettes in my car. I had run out Thursday night, and knew that before I started drinking. Which meant, I had planned on driving.

Either this stops, I do better, or something I can’t take back is going to happen, and it’s going to happen soon. I can feel it. Most alcoholics don’t change until they hit rock bottom, I was reading the A.A. site, and I’ve gotten a few books, and that’s what they all say. Alcoholics refuse to admit they have a problem until there is overwhelming evidence that proves differently. They argue they’re fine, that they can do better, that it isn’t really that bad… all things I tell myself too. I don’t want to have to fall that far. I don’t want to mess up my life forever, or end somebody else’s. I don’t want to crash and burn any more than I already have. So far I’ve been lucky. I’ve been given passes I shouldn’t have been, and more time than I deserved to do the right thing.

I’m Irish and Native American. I was practically bred to be an alcoholic. My father is one, he doesn’t have his license anymore because of it. His father was too, and that contributed to his death. I didn’t grow up close to either of them, but their blood is my blood. I grew up with my mother and step-father, though, and he is also an alcoholic. A violent and mean one, and he helped raised me since I was four. Genetic pre-disposition. Turbulent childhood household. Emotional abandonment. Issues with depression and self-worth. I’m text book.

At exactly 12:00am on 1 August 2017, I dumped the last of my vodka down the drain. I have now been dry for almost 96 hours, for 4 days. It’s the longest I’ve been sober in the last 2 months, and I am craving it bad. I miss it. The first day, my stomach and head hurt (long after a hangover would typically start), I broke out in sweat, and I couldn’t figure out why. Then I ended up having to pull a 24 hour shift. I slept for 4 hours the morning after, and then was too wound up to sleep at all that night. I’ve managed about 3.5 solid hours a night, since then. I’ve been agitated since I first woke up on the 1st, especially today, I almost threw my phone across the room earlier because I kept hitting the wrong button and it wasn’t doing what I wanted it to do. I had to put it away and take my third shower today, just calm down. I can’t focus. I can’t sit still, my leg is always bouncing, my foot kicking, or fingers tapping. I feel empty and sad. Now, I’m not only lonely for people, I’m lonely for my alcohol too. The holes I’ve always had are still gaping, but now there’s no vodka to fill them.

The thing is… I’ve tried to quit before. I pretend I haven’t. I was once even asked if I had every tried to stop, and I said no. I looked back at all those times and told myself “Well, I wasn’t being serious then. I was just doing it to see how long I could go. There was no actual reason to quit. I only needed a break for a couple weeks. I never said I was going to stop forever.” and I always swore “I’ll do better now. My tolerance is back down a little bit, so I’ll control it better. I’ll just have a few, one or two nights a week.”

I never did, though. Maybe a few weeks would pass where I could drink in moderation, but then I would have a particularly bad Tuesday, or something, and drink an extra night- and, eventually, two shots became three, and then three would stop feeling like three, because my tolerance would come back, and three would become four- and after four, I stop caring that I set a limitation for myself.

Honestly, I don’t think I’m the sort of person who can drink in moderation, and that scares me. I want to be the type of person who can just throw back a couple and still have a good night, maybe have just a glass of wine to relax, but I don’t think I’ll be able to do that- if I want to get this under control, I know, rationally, I will have to stop forever. I’m going to have to give up my one constant and reliable comfort. Usually I only make it a few days, usually five, because then the weekend has come again. Sometimes I can resist during the week, but once the weekend comes, and I don’t have work to distract me… it becomes almost impossible. Outside of training, when I literally did not have physical access to alcohol, only one time have I made it to 10. 

Today is Day 4. Today is Friday, the night I have consistently been drunk since I’ve come to Kentucky. The cravings are bad. There’s a liquor store about 5 minutes down the road, but I’m laying here and typing this instead. The top of my foot has been knocking against my bed’s headboad for the last hour, and I can feel a bruise forming. I want to say “just one last night of letting go, and I’ll do better after” but I know I won’t.

I know I need to stop, but I don’t want to. There’s a voice in the back of my head that is screaming it’s ok if it kills me, if I drink until I can’t see and end up crashing my car into a tree, or downing a bottle of pills because I just don’t care anymore- but that’s wrong. I know it’s wrong, so I’m trying to stop. I’m pulling at my hair and pacing my room just to get through this, even though I don’t really want to. Drinking might kill me, but this feels like it will. I need to do this, but I feel like I need to do everything myself, or it doesn’t really count as having done it- and I don’t know if I can handle this one. 

#terryn talks #personal #story time #tw alcohol #tw alcoholism #tw: alcohol #tw: alcoholsim #alcoholic #tw: alcoholic #alcohol abuse #alcohol recovery #i'm attempting to get sober #i'm sorry #i'm losing my mind #i don't have anyone to talk to #rambling #if anybody would like to offer advice #i'm totally here for it #sobriety

[ecotone99]

[SF] 'Chris Allen' part 2 by Connor J Lukasik

So I woke up in a hospital in the year 2070, after being shot and killed in the year 2019. When I woke up, I had no idea about the passed time. My younger brother paid big money to have me brought back, and he also brought back my deceased Mother, Father, and Sister. They died decades after me, and were overjoyed when they saw me again. We went to the house my brother had bought, and that's where my parents filled me in on what happened. My name is Chris Allen, I am 15 years old but technically 66. My story continues here. I stayed at the new house for a week, trying to catch up on history. All of my friends are dead or old now. School is gonna start soon. So in 2033, the US annexed Greenland, and Germany started a world war(again). The third world war lasted 15 years, with Germany, Australia, Venezuela, and Brazil fighting in the name of Modernistic Intrinism, a form of government that centered around extermination of any and all religions. The war ended with the annihilation of Germany. Nuclear weapons, however, were not resorted to in this war, somehow. In 2048, at the end of the war, the UK annexed the land that was once Germany, Russia annexed Australia, and Venezuela and Brazil became Karga, a capitalist nation. Throughout these decades, technology became better and better, and the average human lifespan increased so much that no one had or has gotten the chance to die of old age yet. Again, because of technology. In 2067, the US annexed Canada, and Mexico began considering joining the US. Relations between the US and Russia became better, as the two countries had become allies in the Third World War. Nothing too major has happened since 2067, three years ago. Now it's the first day of school and well... I gotta say I'm nervous. I mean come on... I'll be the only one there from Gen z, and I'm technically 66 years old. Awkward as hell. But maybe I won't be the only one there who is from an older time, I wasn't the only one who was killed in the shooting...aaand I'm here. The school was made mostly of glass, chrome-looking metal, and various wood types. It was a work of art. There's trees everywhere, and flowers and lots of green grass. Butterflies and bees flew around, the bees never bothered anyone and no one seemed anxious around them. I had all my school supplies, I was registered for school, so I walked into the school. No one payed any attention to me, my friends weren't hanging out in the plaza when I got there, everyone was different, I recognized no one. The bell rang, so I got to class. Everyone is tall, even most of the freshmen are at least 6'6". I am 5'10", so I'm pretty short compared to all these kids. I thought that maybe the average person in this time would have skinny arms and legs, but no. It's very common to use medicine to make people strong without working out, apparently. I got to my first period history class, and took a seat. The teacher was this guy who looked to be in his 60's. He introduced himself, and HOLY SHIT that's Jordan, my old best friend. But he's in his 60's now. He looks at me and smiles, recognizing me. The other kids were wondering why this old fuck seemed to know me. Jordan explained to them that him and I used to be friends, back in 2019 but I had died. They seemed at least slightly intrigued by this, but it wasn't like it was anything too alien. When Paul told us to put on the headsets, I was confused but everyone else just swiped there finger across their desk, then headsets materialized on their heads. I did the same, and the headset came over me. I was now in the year 1900, but the rest of the class and Paul were there. I realized that this was VR, and that this is how history is taught nowadays. We were in a busy town, with people rushing to the train station, people rushing to the store, and people reading the news papers. No one payed any mind to us, like we weren't even there, when in reality, it was them who weren't there. Paul began his lecture on the early 1900's and late 1890's. After history class, I went to living economics class, which seemed to be seen as more important in modern schools. I should mention that algebra, geometry, pre-cal, different sciences were electives, because not everyone needs or wants to study those things. In Living Economics, I learned quite a bit about modern society. People seem to be a lot more extrovertive and social, and getting a job is easy. As a matter of fact, doing your job is easy. People usually work around 2 hours on Monday through Thursday, and they didn't work at all on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. Some people still make more than others, but pay fully based on how much work you put in, how productive you are, and creativity can get you bonuses in certain jobs. I went to lunch after Living Economics, because school started at 10 am, and it was already noon. I sat with some people that were obviously gamers and memelords, and they seemed very eager to meet me. Word had gotten around that I was from 2019, and some people thought that was cool. I talked to all of these kids, they're names are James, Kevin, Jason, and Sven. The name Sven became more common in the US after Pewdiepie became president of the US and declared war on t series. T series was destroyed, and frankly no one was disappointed. Their YouTube channel got deleted, and pewds tooks over YouTube once again. He is still alive in 2070. Anyway, the group filled me in on how the internet works nowadays. Most of the old websites still exist and thrive, and there are also new ones. Minecraft is still the greatest game of all time. Something I had noticed is cell phones are different. Everyone has a wristband on, and they press it lightly with one finger, then a glass phone materializes in their hand. The screens can only be seen from the front, for privacy. Jason threw his phone on the ground to show me that they just don't break. After lunch I went to PE. To be frank, it was kind of embarrassing but everyone understood. I was the shortest and the weakest in the class. All of my friends were in there though. We had fun, but I had a harder time with the workouts then everyone else. But as I said, they all understood. When PE ended at around 1:00, school was out. The schools in the future recognize that education is important, but it should not be the central focus if our lives. And also, we just google everything, duh. Me and the gang went to the river after I told my parents via a video call. They were so happy that I was making friends so quickly, then I told them how extrovertive everyone is, and I also told them about Jordan. They were like 'damn, ok' then I said goodbye and hung up. Many other kids from the school were there. The river had clear water, and was filled with healthy fish and plants. Around the river was trees and grass and rocks, we hung out on a river back which was made of pebbles and was very clean. A drone flew by and picked up our trash that we had bagged up already. We had no homework, so we spent the rest of the day at the river. At the end of the day, we all said goodbye and headed home. Everyone seemed to like walking places rather than biking or driving. I walked home and ate dinner with my family when we heard the doorbell ring. A screen appeared above the table, and my little brother Mark was at the door. We let him in, and he was, well, overjoyed at seeing us. He lived in northern Canada(still in the US), we live on the East coast. He had to finish up a project for work, then he was able to make his way down here. He was in his late late 50's now, but looked younger, probably due to technology and/or medicine. We all hugged and continued eating dinner, with Mark joining us. He owned a business in north Canada, which is why he had enough money to resurrect 4 people. We gave him one of our many extra rooms, and we all headed to bed not long after dinner. I lay in bed, thinking about the day. I made four friends in not just one day, but on the first one. I speculate that the extrovertiveness and lack of depression is probably because of medicines and/or vaccines. I look up to the ceiling as it turns into a 1 way mirror and I see the stars. The sky is so clear tonight, as it probably always is now. I close my eyes, and I fade into sleep.

(Thank you so much for reading part 2! Feel free to criticize and critique in the comments, and let me know your thoughts on the story! I might make a part three, but don't expect it too much. I feel like this is a good ending. Thank you!)

submitted by /u/ConnorJLukasik [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2ZWprK5

#Blogger #Story

[americanteacherinqatar]

When you think of Thailand, you probably think of Bangkok, partying, Lady-Boys, prostitution, eating Thai food, The Hangover or maybe you think of the many islands around it, beaches and James Bond.  Well I just returned from my trip to Thailand but not for any of those reasons.  I went because this year is about Self-Care.  My girlfriend Jennifer saw an advertisement on Facebook for a wellness retreat BOGO deal, that means buy 1 get 1 free and we hopped on it.  We made our reservations without hesitation and paid half.  So for our Fall break, we flew to Phuket, Thailand.

We left on a Thursday night on a straight flight and 7 hours later we arrived on Friday morning.  Phuket is 4 hours ahead of Qatar.  We were met by our taxi driver sent from our resort- The Life Co Phuket Well-Being (you can see my review of the resort on viator titled: ).  By the time we arrived I was really hungry because I slept through the second meal time on the flight.  They couldn’t give us any food because we had not yet chosen our meal plan so they gave us an Energy juice instead.  We received a tour of the grounds and an overview.  Our body compositions were taken and we were taken to our room.  We had a pretty view of the lake from our balcony and a nice rain shower head.  We chose the daily green salad detox for the first two days of our stay so at noon and 6pm we were served large salads.  In between those meals we received detox juices, supplements, alkaline water and all the soup (broth) we wanted.  According to my body composition, I weighed 63.9 kg on arrival day.

Pretty but hard 

my relax spot on the balcony overlooking the lake

The beautiful lake

daily schedule of events

eating area 

Yoga Studio

Healthy Green salad twice a day

Day 2 began with Yoga with Wa, then we met with the resort Doctor who went over our body composition results with us.  He offered to conduct all of these test on me for a fee, of course, for which I declined.  Afterwards, we had our complimentary 60 minute massage, and it was divine.  Following the massage, we used the Turbo Sonic machine- a vibrating machine that supposedly stimulates every cell in your body, before having an angel wash- a fancy name for a enema on a fancy machine.

Yoga with WA

me on the sonic machine

This is the angel wash machine that you sit on

This is where you sit and the tube goes in your butt

this is the where you can see everything that comes out of you

and this is where it goes.

I haven’t had an enema since I was a child and I just remember it not being very pleasant.  My mom used to tell me to lie on the bathroom floor on a towel and she would stick this tube in my rear end and run water or something up there until I defecated all over the place.  She often did these when I was constipated so needless to say I was not looking forward to performing one on myself.  But daily angel washes are a part of the program and I intended to follow it to see the results.   What I will say is that it was a very interesting experience and I was not looking forward to doing it again the next day but after seeing what came out of me, I was definitely on board with the angel wash.  We sat in the steam room then the infrared sauna before spending some time in the pool.  In the evening, we went to the Naka Market which was wonderful but torturous.

Naka Market souvenirs

loved this market

Sushi galore

There was food everywhere, all sorts.  I really wanted to try some food from a country I’d never been to but I was on a strict diet and didn’t want to divert, however I did try a small piece of this very green fruit and it was amazing.

I wish I could remember the name of this fruit

This market convinced me that Thailand is a country I would revisit, and I rarely do repeat visits.  We purchased some souvenirs before heading back to Life Co.

On day 3, we switched our plans to the master detox, which meant all juice and supplements.  No Food!  We received 5 shakes a day, Herbs and Wheatgrass juice, and as much herbal tea and soup broth that we wanted.

On this day, we followed our routine angel wash, steam room then infrared sauna.  The angel wash was smoother than the day before. We took in some sun for tanning and relaxed.  You are highly advised to relax on a retreat, especially since your calorie intake is much lower.  On the master detox, our daily calorie intake was 500, my usual intake is around 1200-1500.  But in true Jennifer and Kennesha style, we can’t sit still too long, so we participated in the Crossfit class with Wa.  It was great.  In the afternoon we went to a cooking class with the chef of the resort.  He showed us how to make vegan wraps, apricot porridge and some dips, all vegan.  We were able to sample only an edge of a spoons worth unfortunately because of our diet, but at least we left with some recipes.

In the evening we caught a taxi to Phuket Oldtown market.  It was like Odundé in Philadelphia but with regular shops as well.  There was live music, gifts to purchase and so much street food.  Again, I felt some type of way that I couldn’t indulge.  At one point, I just sat down salivating as I watched the people cook right in front of me.  I hadn’t had any food all day and the smells were enticing.  My weakness was all around me, seafood, huge shrimp, lobster, squid, mussels, you name it, it was there.  I was really using will power and I was proud of myself.  Jennifer and I were getting obsessed with weighing ourselves daily and were seeing impressive results, we rooted for each other, we could do it.

On Monday, I had a different kind of Enema, it’s called a HydroColon.  This one is administered by a specialist and is much easier.  You don’t have to do any of the work. The specialist and machine do it for you.  Apparently, I was very full of gas which kept me pretty backed up.  I’m glad they got it out.  I think I was bloated because afterwards I felt super light and refreshed.  My pounds were dropping and fast.  We went down to the Nathon beach and walked around.  There are plenty of little shops and spas across from the beach.  We stopped in one and I got a Thai massage for 400 Thai Bhat, or 12 USD.  The massage was good but the lady’s hands were moving so fast, it definitely wasn’t like the relaxing massages I’m used to getting.  The massage at the resort was better but far too expensive for Thailand.

Day 3 of the master Detox was rough and we still had one more day on this program to go.  Both Jennifer and I woke up not feeling well.  I felt extremely weak, comparable to waking up with a terrible hangover without the nausea or how it feels when you’ve been sick for days and unable to keep anything down.   I think the lack of food and drinks were taking their toll.  Our sleep was always broken up with bathroom runs to urinate because of the supplements they were giving us and the amount of alkaline water we consumed in each day.  Our bodies were definitely going through a change and I really wanted some food.  We reported how we felt to the kitchen staff and they prepared us a special drink that included lime and ginger and some tea.  We felt better after while.  We participated in another food demo in the evening and a special workshop called Rebirthing or Breath Work (stop back for my post on Rebirthing, you don’t want to miss it).

The weather this time of year in Thailand is wonderful.  The temperature each day was in the high 80’s with a cool breeze.  It usually rained in the morning but cleared up by afternoon.  On Wednesday it rained all day but we woke up feeling much better.  It was the last day our master detox and we were proud of ourselves but honestly, we really wanted something to eat.   The snacks that I purchased to take home were tempting me.  But after stepping on that scale, I knew there would be no way I was cheating.  I had lost a whopping 9 lbs.  So instead of eating, we went to meditation and did yoga.  Jenn had her Hydrocolon therapy and I another angel wash.  She wanted me to be the guinea pig with the Hydro Colon therapy first.  After I reported back she signed up to get hers done as well.  We spent the day reading, and relaxing and it was amazing.

  Thursday was our last full day and we were smiling from ear to ear because at noon, we would get food.  Well sort of, okay technically salad is food but not the kind of food I wanted, but it was better than juice and water and by Wednesday I had decided I had had enough of broth and seasoning.  I woke up early and caught the shuttle for a morning walk on the beach leaving Jenn in bed to rest because she was feeling dizzy.  The beach was serene and the water cool.  I took a short walk on the beach and in the water, then laid out a towel and read a few pages of Malala.  I only read a few pages because I was too busy just being and watching families play with their little ones on the beach, and dogs walking up and down enjoying the morning sun, even a man prancing his horse back and forth.  I wanted to soak it all in before it came to a pause.  I was relaxed and at peace and 10 lbs lighter according to my new body composition report.

When I returned to the resort we enjoyed our last angel wash, and trip to the steam room and sauna.  I swam a few laps in the pool after enjoying my salad which I only ate half because I wanted to save the rest to finish when I got hungry again, maybe I just wanted to savor it.  Jenn and I took the beach shuttle early so that we could get another massage at a different place.  This time this masseuses hands moved a little slower but boy was she heavy handed and apparently I needed this.  She bent me and snapped me and gave me the deepest tissue massage of my life and afterwards I wasn’t even sore.  We gave them a nice tip.  To end our vacation we watched the sunset on the beach and a monkey playing in the tree before heading back.

Can you spot the monkey in the tree?

We ordered meals for the plane ride home to ease our way into regular eating again because our body had not worked hard in a week and it is not a good idea to put regular food back in right away.  We satisfied our bill and packed up.  On Friday morning we flew home and it sure felt good to eat that low calorie vegan food that the resort had prepared for us and to pick over the vegan airplane food.

This was the first vacation I had taken where I didn’t feel like I needed a vacation from my vacation.  I don’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed and unstressed.  Not worrying about if the food would be good or if the resort could cater to my vegan eating preferences was a relief.  I’ll admit it wasn’t easy going 4 days with no food but I am proof that it’s possible with the right supplements and program.  Within 7 days, we had only consumed 6 salads total and no other food.  Jennifer lost 6 kilos and I lost almost 5.  We met some wonderful people and had uncomfortable conversations (colonics lol) with them.  What I wish to take from this- not my weight that I lost of course, but patience and self-confidence, peace of mind and tools to assist me with mindfulness and positivity.  This entire experience was Amazing and I look forward to doing another retreat, perhaps with my hubby.  I also look forward to returning to Thailand to island hop, party in Bangkok, and EAT!  Would I go back to the Life Co Phuket well-being resort? NO, I would not, for several reasons, that you can read about in my review on Viator. However, I would try one of their other two resort in other places.  I had a wonderful time there but some things are unacceptable by my standards.

I wonder how long I will keep the weight off.  My goal was to be at 135 and I crushed that goal by 4 pounds.  If I gain weight, which more than likely I will because as soon as I get back I’m back to working with my personal trainer weight lifting and resistance training, I hope that it’s muscle and I hope to only go back up to 135.  I plan to be more conscientious of my carbs and timing of my evening meals.  I don’t plan on being a health food fanatic but after this jump start to my body and cleanse I’m optimistic that I can maintain a healthy body, soul and mind.

Have you ever been to a health retreat?

The other Side of Thailand- 7 days of Detoxing in Phuket When you think of Thailand, you probably think of Bangkok, partying, Lady-Boys, prostitution, eating Thai food, The Hangover or maybe you think of the many islands around it, beaches and James Bond. 

#detox #health retreat #Hydrocolonic #Master detox #Naka market #Nathon beach Phuket #Oldtown Phuket market #Phuket Thailand #The Life Co #The Life Co Phuket Well-Being #things to do in Phuket #things to do in Thailand #Yoga retreat

[thejourneyofthehero-mh-blog]

October 11 (Thursday night)

It’s actually close to 4 am on October 12. But this post was about last night. I feel pretty miserable right now. I feel pretty rejected and sad and like I want to take a break from game. I definitely don’t want to go out Friday night.

I was at work today and got lunch with some coworkers, including one pretty cute coworker. I feel my behavior was pretty good overall but kind of off because of her presence. I think I just wasn’t socialized with girls properly growing up. Pakistani culture separates boys and girls pretty heavily, and to top that off my mom told me not to talk to girls growing up. In fact I’ve mostly always had male friends pretty much exclusively. Even worse so, ever since I moved to San Diego I pretty much only interact with men unless it’s to game. As I’m writing this I think I’ve come to the ephiphiny that I’m pretty fucked up as a person because of these weird childhood circumstances, and I should probably see a therapist. I realize that most of my interactions with females i am trying to impress them in some way shape or form, even ugly girls im not trying to date (although it’s been awhile since I’ve talked to an ugly girl unless she was the ugly friend of a girl I was trying to game or I was trying to distract her while my friend games her friend). As I’m writing this I realize how fucked up all this is.

Anyway back to the infield. It’s lunchtime, I’m with my coworkers at Panera. See a cute girl outside. My mind wants to approach and if I was not with them I think I likely would’ve approached. I hate the duality between my work life and home life. Either way I’m feeling pretty good this day even though I’ve been running on a few hours sleep for days on end. Leave work late to meet up with my wing joey and his business partner at Starbucks. I don’t know if I trust her or if she’s trying to scam me. She’s cute, very nice. But I feel like she’s trying to sell me on her business, and the more she explains that she needs quality people and isn’t looking to take everyone - the more it feels like a tactic. Perhaps I could learn something about that and apply it to my game. Leave Starbucks at 8. It’s too late to do daygame anywhere nearby.

Me and joey head to pacific beach. Joey is exuding charisma btw. He’s been approaching a ton and he’s the one who inspired me to do this 30 day challenge. We get to the venue and I sort of want to follow joeys lead - this was my first fuck up because it kept me stifled, beta and prevented me from approaching the first set right away. We approach a few sets and I’m acting kind of needy and beta. Joeys acting dominant, fun and alpha. He gets one girls contact pretty much right away. I get none. Although I didn’t even attempt to and didn’t put my intentions out there. Perhaps that was mistake number two - not using any statements of intent. We venue hop and I sort of want to do daygame but it’s late and I’m still following joeys lead and letting him take control. He’s doing well and stopping girls even one on a bike. I think he got so good by approaching everything and not thinking. I finally approach one girl and can’t get her to stop. My energy is falling rapidly. Joey goes inside a restaurant to approach and I look for more sets - I think I don’t like going in set with joey because I always feel like the beta friend. This is sort of how I felt with Aaron but Aaron would lift me up a lot. Not hating on joey, just Aaron was an awesome teacher and joeys just a wing not technically a teacher - though I have learned a lot from him. I don’t see any girls for awhile. I’m thinking my bad energy is for the lack of alcohol. I go to backyard and get a shot of vodka. Joey doesn’t drink or want me to drink so I have to hide it from him. That was mistake number three - hiding it and relying on alcohol. I don’t approach right away at this venue and look for wings. Even talking to guys my energy feels off - I’m too in my head and trying to be the cool guy rather than just have fun. One guy even comments that. I go to Mavericks to meet Joey. He approaches a set and I don’t follow. I approach an Indian and white girl sitting down. I forget what I open with but the interest from them is there right away. I’m feeling better slightly. The interest does off almost fairly quickly. I think I was being too try hard. The Indian girl tells me she has a boyfriend even though I didn’t ask. I’ve had my most success with Indian girls, but they have a way of harshly rejecting me when they reject me. I also feel worse when they reject me, maybe because I feel more entitled that they should like me because my past history of Indian girls liking me. Who knows. The actual words of ‘I have a boyfriend’ aren’t so bad as her tonality. Not necessarily mean, but patronizing and condescending. I hate that. I ask her friend if she has a boyfriend and get some hesitation. Her friends slightly more into me but I think the Indian girl gave her a signal as if to say ‘no not him’. Who knows maybe I’m reading too much into this. The white girl says she’s juggling 3 but not looking to add in more. I say we could be friends and they should remember me if they see me. They say they will. I leave them and look for more sets. No “easy” sets but another night where I’m not feeling so shitty I wouldn’t have minded and approached anyway. I leave Mavericks to do some street game.

I approach a few sets on the street - pretty direct. First thirty seconds for all 3 separate sets go pretty well then quickly die off.

Call Joey and ask him to grab my bag from his car. We walk back to the car and he’s forcing me to approach on the way back. That’s fine, I’m used to wings forcing me to approach and I actually like that. But for the past few days I haven’t needed a wing to force me to approach. I think I realize as I’m typing this that I might be better alone than with a wing. Unless maybe I have really good chemistry with my wing - there’s a few people like this (my best childhood friend <redacted>, my boot camp wing <redacted>, my teacher Aaron, and my other wing <redacted> sometimes). I like solo game because I’m in complete control and I can force myself to approach on my own. I’m glad I’m writing this down because I wouldn’t have realized that otherwise.

Anyway none of the street game on the way back to the car is sticking. We get close to the car and I’m all out of energy and done approaching - Joey says to do one last one. He’s a good influence. We walk to a small bar and I approach a two set right away - maybe the first good thing I’ve done of the night. I use joeys opening line ‘sorry I’m late’. The hot girl starts cracking up, and the ugly friend looks confused and soon enough upset. I find this happens often. We chat for a bit and the interaction is fine, but my hands are sweaty so I hold off introducing myself. I think that caused the interaction to die a bit. Who knows, I also sort of got the feeling the girls just weren’t the receptive - that happens sometime and I’m okay with it. But if my hands weren’t sweaty I would’ve stayed in set longer and introduced myself. I say I’m going to the bathroom (I don’t tell them it’s to dry my sweaty hands). Go to the bathroom dry my hands. I see joey talking to a stunner at a table while the stunners guy friend just sits there. I talk to the guy in order to wing man joey and let him continue talking to the hot girl. The guy is clearly drunk. He starts shitting on joey without realizing that I know Joey ( I only opened him and not the girl or joey, and I just said ‘nice jacket bro’ or something along those lines). I want to get the dude in a better mood so he doesn’t cockblock joey, so I shit on joey with him. We’re talking about how Joey has no game and is too forward (even though I can clearly tell the girl is loving joey). We laugh and he gives me his Instagram to go meet up later, he says he has hot girl friends. I’m done that night anyway. I go reapproach the two set with the intentions of introducing myself this time. Too late, they already seem done me and probably think I’m chodey for not introducing myself earlier. The ugly friend definitely dislikes me, but the hot one is turned to her friend so I can tell body language wise that it’s off too. I decide to stay in set for a few more seconds, but joey comes to save me. Clearly they’re not into him either. The hot friend laughs at joeys opener too. I think she must’ve just been getting hit on all night or all her life and she’s in super abundance where she just laughs at Guys creative opener. The ugly friend says ‘atleast he (joey) introduced himself. We talk for a moment, and the hot girl signals her guy friend to help them ditch us. I want to dip, joey holds his frame. The guy, who I believe probably works, at the bar tells us to tap out. He seems genuinely kind of nice.

We walk back to the car and I tell joey why I approached the chode friend of the hot girl he was talking to (the guy with the cool jacket). I tell him how me and the guy were shitting on joey. Joey laughs and compliments me on my wingman skills. This isn’t the first time I’ve been told I’m a great wingman. I feel pretty good about that. Maybe that’s another form of ego that will come to bite me in the ass later. Joey tells me he was fingering that girl - what a baller to do that right in front of her friend.

I go home, and can’t sleep. I break no fap, partially to sleep and partially to release the bad energy in me. But I don’t watch porn. I don’t know if I’ll regret breaking no fap in the morning. I was going to go no fap through the whole course of the month and usually I don’t do any approaches the day after fapping. Fapping to me, and even more so watching porn, feels like admitting defeat and saying you need a break from game (which might be why I don’t do approaches the day after fapping - or maybe I’m just brainwashed by the no fap warriors ~ that I’m more dominant and naturally girls will like me more due to the extra testosterone.) I still have to approach anyway because there’s no off days on this challenge.

Overall this felt felt like a shitty night in terms of action and my mindset but I realize a few weeks ago this was a very average night and I’ve just gotten better inner game from going out more over time - or maybe it’s the alcohol, who knows. Well tbh I used to drink quite a bit of alcohol going out with wings even. So I guess it’s not the alcohol and I actually am starting to develop good behaviors.

Side note: I feel like Neil Strauss aka style when I’m writing these field rapports sometimes.

Edit: as I’m re-reading this I’m realizing that I suck with some wings because I don’t want to fail them. When I entered that first venue with joey, I wanted to approach direct and confident but I followed his lead because I thought he knew better and I didn’t want to ruin his sets if I failed because girls loop you in with your friends. I now realize that joeys a cool enough guy that girls like him regardless of me being a chode.