#but I would see videos about intuitive eating and they’d be like LISTEN TO YOUR BODY! listen to when your body doesn’t want anymore

[mirrorsmp3]

https://at.tumblr.com/jaggedandweak/intuitive-eating-is-crazy-cuz-thats-just-eating/ejyfgzeyvkgn

yes but without restricting or binging, someone w BED might be full but still force themself to eat everything, and someone with another type of ed might stop eating even if they r still hungry 🙏 but eating intuitively let’s u eat what u want whenever u want and stopping when ur full and satisfied 🔥🔥🔥

i know it’s a useful phrase for people to eat healthily it just seems redundant to me cuz like i am in a place where it’s obvious to me to do… which i guess to point out is kind of almost flexing or rubbing it in .. which isn’t to say that i haven’t had unhealthy eating habits lol i guess what i’m trying to say is that the phrasing seems to me to indicate just eating normally as another dressed up diet which i know is the opposite of the intention. like i know it’s just saying to listen to your body but my immediate response is that i’ve had enough of so called content creators preaching to me about diets and so when they refer to intuitive eating it triggers disdain bc it sounds like another unhealthy complicated thing in a fancy dress.. this doesn’t make sense LOL am sorry i know it’s a good phrase for some ppl but to me it just overcomplicates things

#diff things for everyone I guess #for me it’s like I have been in a good place with food pretty constantly but like every now and then it’s like… Wellllllll #but I would see videos about intuitive eating and they’d be like LISTEN TO YOUR BODY! listen to when your body doesn’t want anymore #and I personally believe that eating past being full once in a while is very good for the soul.. cuz like… duh #and then after having seen those videos I’d be like Well fuck.! is this intuitive im not listening to my body say no! #like I knowwww I’m not the target audience for this phrase really.. so it doesn’t concern me idrc #ok I can’t ever articulate myself oopsie sorry and also sorry if I ever offend u or something I just say what I think and am confused by #i had another thing I was thinking of with regards to ur last sentence about what intuitive eating let’s u do but every time I typed it #i forgot where in my sentence I was #TLDR I acknowledge that recognizing your body’s needs and putting a name to that recognition and how u act on it is Helpful🔥 #however for me personally it does not make sense hence I am posting on my personal tumblr blog about it 🔥 #thank you for explaining though I did think about it and considering my long and huge response I think u can tell I have learned and formed #new opinions ! #ask #food #<- idk what else to tag but lmk if there’s anything

[stellacolletore]

08.31.2020

from tsukuba’s peak (falling waters have become)  characters: tsukuba haruomi, mashima taichi/ayase chihaya, tsukuba akihiro summary: Haruomi knows Ayase-sensei’s no damsel in distress. That doesn’t mean he’ll stand by while a Bad Guy goes after her, though. notes: takes place when the 2nd of the tsukuba triplets (haruomi) is in his first year of high school and chihaya’s just been a teacher in mizusawa.

Haruomi might have been giving the wrong impression with his slit eyes for as long as he can remember, but those who know him know better. He’s a pretty perceptive guy.

It’s yet another quality that sets him apart from his younger and older brothers, who, at an earlier point in time, looked so identical with him that people mistake them for triplets. Now the only commonality they share with one another is their undying admiration for Akihiro-niisan. In a span of five years, Fuyumasa-niisan found soccer more of his league than karuta (which almost got him disowned by Akihiro-niisan, who then was the president of Mizusawa Karuta Club) while Natsufusa-kun’s attention was gradually stolen by the world of video gaming.

As for Haruomi, he stuck with karuta like their eldest brother, reaching Class A in his last year of middle school and studying so seriously for once with the hopes of entering the high school of his dreams.

Which isn’t Hokuo, he’d tell the recruiters sporting the well-known red shirt of Tokyo’s current high school karuta powerhouse when they scouted him last tournament. I’m going to Mizusawa High.

“But Mizusawa’s golden days are long over,” Haruomi remembered one of the recruiters snickering. To which he had replied defensively, “That’s going to change, though. Because she’s coming back.”

And Ayase-san has indeed returned, finishing her college degree and immediately applying for a teaching position at Mizusawa High School. She’s the defender of the Queen title for two consecutive years now, and is currently on her way towards─

“ ─making Mizusawa into a karuta powerhouse.” He recalls the brimming confidence in her voice on the first day of club meeting, finally understanding what Akihiro-niisan means when he tells him when she’s on your side, Ayase-senpai’s karuta gives your karuta a certain level of strength.  Ayase-san─Ayase-sensei to him, now─certainly had been over the moon with his club membership. After all, Haruomi’s one of the Shiranami society members who grew in leaps and bounds before her own eyes.

Everything’s going well that when trouble finally entered the picture, Haruomi’s able to spot it in a blink of an eye. Or, to be more precise, spot him.

Likening the situation to one of the shoujo mangas Sumire-neechan rants about during break time back at Shiranami society, Yamazaki-sensei’s definitely the Bad Guy who goes after the Female MC with the sole purpose of threatening her relationship with the Male MC. (He shakes his head at the thought of his vocabulary being this much influenced by Sumire-neechan.)

Not that there’s an ounce of doubt when it comes to Ayase-sensei’s relationship with Mashima-san. They’d been going steady ever since their last year in high school, and Haruomi himself won’t be surprised if one of these days they’d suddenly announce their engagement. But still, this development is concerning. Call it a guy’s intuition, but Yamazaki-sensei looks like he’s after more than just being a karuta club ‘vice adviser’.

As if affirming his thoughts, Yamazaki-sensei asks, “Ayase-san, would you like to go out for dinner after practice? I’ve been waiting for that a few weeks now. Surely you’re free this time.” Glaring eyes instantly latch onto Bad Guy, ever protective of their undeniably beautiful─and undeniably dense ─karuta club adviser. As usual Ayase-sensei takes his question in stride. Innocently, she replies, “Ah─but I still can’t, Yamazaki-san. I’ve already promised to eat dinner with someone tonight.”

Yamazaki-sensei sniggers; Haruomi detects a hint of annoyance in his teacher’s voice. “Is this your ‘boyfriend’ again?”

He definitely wants to wipe that expression off Bad Guy’s face. It’s a telltale sign he’s about to say something obnoxious.

“How come we’ve never seen him around? Ayase-san, you know it’s not a good example for your students if you’re lying about dating someone when, in fact, you’re not.”

Haruomi had enough.

“Ayase-sensei’s not a liar! Mashima-san’s real, Sensei. In fact, he’s a better karuta player than you could ever be.”

“What did you just─” In a flash of anger, Yamazaki-sensei lunges at him from his seat on the tatami. Haruomi already has his fist clenched, prepared in case it needs to take a swing at his teacher’s face, but Ayase-senpai’s barreled into the space between them just in time. “Please don’t fight!”  

Taking advantage of their momentary surprise, she addresses Bad Guy apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Yamazaki-san. We can get dinner next week─it’s just that tonight’s really one of the few times Taichi’s free.” Turning towards Haruomi, she softly reprimands. “Thank you for your concern, Haruomi-kun. But you should always remember to show respect for your teachers. It’s wrong to yell at Yamazaki-sensei, ne, Haruomi-kun?”

Properly chastised, both boys retreat their offensive stance. Pleased at handling the situation before it escalates (again), she claps her hands together, gathering the attention of the members previously watching the showdown. “All right minna! Time to go home!”

They soon disperse, his teammates on their way home and Ayase-sensei to her date. Meanwhile, Haruomi finds himself staring at the door of the teacher’s lounge, where Yamazaki-sensei is preparing his things before heading out of the school. As much as it annoys Haruomi, he’s still a man of principle; and as such, owes even Bad Guy an apology.

He’s already opened the door when his ears pick up on Bad Guy’s Obnoxious Voice again.

“You’ll see her, don’t worry. I’m not lying! She’s really Ayase Chitose’s sister! Yeah, she’s hot, too, all right. Didn’t you get the picture I sent you? Anyway, see you next week─yeah, she’s already promised to come. Okay, okay...Bye.”

What is it he’s about to do again?

Haruomi walks away from the room, his hand reaching on the inside of his bag. He opens his phone and dials a number.

“Onii-san, could you give me Mashima-san’s contact address?”

***

It looks like a normal practice meeting, with everyone expecting to go through the same routine. Except for Haruomi, who’s certain that things will be changing as soon as it’s over.

As expected, Ayase-sensei, with her ultrasonic hearing, notices him first.

Her head springs up from the match against Haruomi, eyes trained towards the sliding doors. Confusion mars her features, as if the sound she hears doesn’t correspond with her surroundings. Guilt pricks Haruomi for a second.

After all, asking Mashima-san to make a surprise visit to their club is also asking him to skip what obviously are very important classes. But this is important, too! His conscience immediately reasons out.

Mashima-san appears at the spot Ayase-sensei is looking at, and without missing a beat he hears his teacher gape unceremoniously. “Taichi! What are you doing here?!”

The abrupt mention of their sensei’s boyfriend’s name effectively wrenched everybody’s concentration away from the game. A yomifuda is read but everyone’s attention is on the very surprising, very handsome visitor at the entrance.

“Eeeeh?! ”

“Sensei’s kareshi?! That’s sensei’s boyfriend?!”

“Ikemen! ”

“Masaka…”

His teammates’ expressions are priceless, sure, but Haruomi is most amused upon finding Bad Guy’s eyes blown wide, skin getting paler by the second.

See, sensei? He’s real, all right.

Apparently, Mashima-san had a lifetime’s worth of encountering greetings like this, merely blinking at them before giving a slight bow. “Hajimemashite. I’m Mashima Taichi, Mizusawa High School alumni and co-founder of this club. Doozo yoroshiku.”

Haruomi then discovers just how much the girls of his karuta club are similar to Sumire-neechan when they crowd over him in a classic montage of high school girls fawning over handsome guys.

“You and Ayase-sensei made this club?! Sugoi!─”

“That’s so romantic! Ano, did you like her since first year─”

“How was Ayase-sensei like before─”

“Ikemen!”

“Calm down, minna,” Ayase-sensei implores. After the girls have listened, she repeats her question, this time with evident concern. “Taichi, why are you here? Did something happen?”

Mashima-san quells her worries with a reassuring smile. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just,” his golden eyes proceed to sweep the room, locating Haruomi who’s been pushed at the back by his overexcited teammates, “your student there asked for my help.”

The implication behind her boyfriend’s words totally goes over Ayase-sensei’s head, but definitely not Yamazaki-sensei’s. Bad Guy is basically trembling in the corner and nothing has even happened yet.

Ayase-sensei’s face registers a brief moment of surprise, before lightening up. “I see!”

The reaction is equal parts endearing and frustrating, really. How Ayase-sensei manages to keep every bit of that childlike trust even in adulthood, Haroumi would never know. Nevertheless, she definitely has to pick up on some social cues before Mashima-san goes crazy with worry.

Thinking that the past Mizusawa karuta club President’s really only here to help out, Ayase-sensei wastes no time in having him observe how her students play.

And help he did, doling out insights on everyone’s game strategies. In less than an hour, his identity transformed from ‘Ayase-sensei’s gorgeous boyfriend’ to the ‘President who led the team to national championship’. Haruomi himself is knee deep in the practice session that he almost forgets Mashima-san’s true purpose for dropping by.

Almost, because even when a confrontation could be avoided if he just stayed respectful for once, Yamazaki-sensei’s Bad Guy streak doesn’t disappoint.

“It’s nice, really, when one is able to give good advice,” his Obnoxious Voice grates at Haruomi’s ears, “but I think it’s too extreme to call it incredible.” He gives a pointed glance to Rina-chan, who had just called Mashima-san that after a one-on-one consultation on card placements. “What’s incredible is being able to ‘show’ the ‘talk’, if you get what I mean.”

Tension immediately spikes inside the room, Haruomi and his teammates displaying looks of discomfort and annoyance. Teach him a lesson, Mashima-san! They mentally plead.

Mashima-san, an air of uncanny calmness around him, responds lightly. “I do. Say, Yamazaki-san, Chihaya’s been telling me how good a mentor you are yourself. I’d actually like to see how you play your karuta.”

Ego inflated, Bad Guy predictably challenges. “Why not have a match with me, then, Mashima-san?” He glances at the students, “The kids could take notes.”

Mashima-san places a hand on his hair, looking sheepish. “Ah, but my skills are rusty. Haven’t been playing much since entering med school.”

Irked at the girls rendered swooning at the knowledge that Ayase-senpai has a runway-model-level handsome, karuta playing, intelligent boyfriend, Yamazaki-sensei pushes on, “I’m sure you can put up a fight. I’ll go easy on you, if you like.”

Appearing unaffected by the blatant jab at his capabilities, Mashima-san checks his watch, nonchalant, before turning to Ayase-senpai for permission. “What do you say, Chihaya? Do we still have time?”

Ayase-sensei considers the request. She notes how a full match would extend their club meeting for an hour at least. Then, addressing the rest of the club, begins to ask. “Is it okay with you if─”

Not even waiting for the end of her sentence, Haruomi and his teammates answer eagerly, “Hai, Sensei!”

“O-okay then,” Ayase-sensei heads to the door, “I’ll just let Miyauchi-sensei know we’re finishing up late.”

At their teacher’s exit, Haruomi and the members promptly settle down. He hands Mashima-san a deck of karuta cards, whispering a plea at the same time, “Show him his place, Mashima-san. We really can’t put up with him any longer.” His Shiranami society senpai reaches a hand to ruffle his kouhai’s hair playfully, eyes crinkling with reassurance.

While shuffling the cards between him and his opponent Mashima-san suggests, “Ano, Yamazaki-san, don’t you think it’s more exciting if we bet on something? We used to do it a lot back then.”

Yamazaki-sensei, after a brief moment of surprise, agrees. “Hm, let’s see,” his Bad Guy mind tries to conjure a wicked request. “Okay...If I win, you’re not allowed to come here during practice hours. Sorry, Mashima-san, but looking at how the students are distracted and all over the place with today’s visit, it’s best if we eliminate anything that interferes with their concentration.”

Shouts of protests instantly ensue. Mashima-san simply laughs, finding their sensei’s rudeness amusing, apparently. With a certain gleam in his eyes, he replies, “As for me, I have one condition: Whoever wins this match gets the right to be the club’s mentor.”

Meeting his opponent’s shocked expression with an easy smile, he elaborates. “Of course, we can’t have Chihaya’s team settling for anything less than the best, wouldn’t we?”

***

Ayase-sensei comes back thirty minutes later only to find the room in complete uproar. “Sorry, I got held back─”

“ ─It’s already over?! Just like that?!”

“Sensei couldn’t even get one card…”

“Mashima-san’s the real deal.”

“Kyaaa! Ikemen, hontoni ikemen!”

“I WAS HOLDING BACK!” Yamazaki-sensei exclaims, face burning with obvious humiliation. He points an offending finger at Mashima-san, who had been coolly observing Bad Guy’s pathetic breakdown from his side on the tatami. “One more round, Mashima-san! I’ll be playing all-out the next round.”

“That’s fine with me, Yamazaki-san,” he says languidly, “but you’re going to have to place a new bet.”

“If─!” Bad Guy doesn’t miss a beat, “─I win, I get the mentoring rights back.”

“Mentoring rights?” Ayase-sensei inquires at Haruomi. He grins, “Mashima-san’s earned his place as your vice adviser as of the moment, Sensei.”

Ayase-sensei’s confusion doubles when she hears her boyfriend’s end of the bargain. “Then, if I win, I get to borrow your phone, Yamazaki-sensei.”

“His phone?! What are you going to do with Yamasaki-san’s phone, Taichi?” She asks, concerned at how Bad Guy instantly petrifies at Mashima-san’s words. The rest of the room is also stunned at the odd request. But his intention is perfectly clear to Haruomi, and he has to physically restrain himself from blurting it out in the open. Mashima-san’s got this. I have to let him handle this.

Haruomi sees Ayase-sensei’s boyfriend put on a bashful expression, looking much like a boy who’s had to explain why he’s acting sneaky. “You know those pranks where you hijack a person’s gallery and post something silly on their social media? I just wanted to try it out.”

Sufficiently manipulated, Yamazaki-sensei releases a breath he’s been holding. His teammates nodded in understanding as well.

However, Ayase-sensei only squints her eyes, clearly showing how she’s well caught up with Mashima-san’s lie.

It’s then that Mashima-san’s gaze shifts, connecting with Ayase-sensei’s and holding her in place. Haruomi’s familiar with that type of communication─it’s something  that exists between long time friends or lovers. And since both apply to Ayase-sensei and Mashima-san’s case, it doesn’t take a minute before his girlfriend’s demeanor changes, too, having received the wordless message. She doesn’t prod any further.

The second match goes more or less the same, the only difference being Yamazaki-sensei’s resolve slowly crumbling at every card he couldn’t defend, every fault he commits. Gone is Mashima-san’s lighthearted persona, too, and Haruomi wonders whether this is what his senpai looked like when he was actively playing karuta back in the day. An image of Harada-sensei enters his mind right then, comforting Haruomi with the fact that Mashima-senpai’s karuta prime is still yet to come.

Contrasting the mood of the rest of the match’s audience, Ayase-sensei is looking troubled beside him. He even hears his sensei plead silently, “Don’t, Taichi.” Curiosity getting the better of him, he asks,“What’s wrong, Ayase-sensei?”

He gets a worrisome answer. “Taichi...he’s...using nasty karuta. The kind that makes your opponent want to stop playing. He hadn’t played like this since...”

Abandoning her explanation, Ayase-sensei shifts towards questioning him back, brown eyes pleading to understand.

“Haroumi-kun, what is it you’ve asked his help for, exactly?”

***

A conversation at Mashima Taichi’s car, moments after practice had finished and the karuta club members went on their way home.*

“Anywhere we have to stop by before I drop you home?”

“Eto...The pharmacy! And I won’t be going home tonight.”

“Okay...Let’s go over those one-by-one. What do you need at the pharmacy? Are you feeling sick?”

“It’s not for me.”

“For Chitose-san, then? I thought her acid reflux was handled already.”

“Not for her too. It’s for my boyfriend, actually. See, he’s about to get another migraine.”

“Wha─”

“I know you’ve been pulling all-nighters for the past week, Taichi. And if it were me playing your scary karuta a while ago, I’d be dead asleep by now. I might not be the one who’s going to be a doctor between the two of us, but I’ve been with you long enough to realize that even your superhuman brain hurts sometimes.”

“Glad to see how you’ve successfully bribed your way to getting my schedule from Nishinoya. Did you promise him an exclusive Daddy Bear merchandise?”

“That’s the thing. I didn’t have to, because he’s just as worried about your workaholic lifestyle as I am. Honestly, you have to look out for yourself better, Taichi.”

“That’s awfully ironic, coming from you, Chihaya.”

“...”

“Sorry. What I meant was─”

“No! Don’t apologize. You’re right. I haven’t been looking out for myself all that well, either. If I were, then you and Haruomi-kun wouldn’t be so worried, right? Enough for you to break Yamazaki-san's phone 'accidentally'?”

“...”

“In case you’re wondering, I can see why you’re both concerned about Yamazaki-san. He’s always acting...weird. But I thought that’s just because he’s new, and I shouldn’t pass up any opportunities that could help the club. Especially when I’m not yet the strong advisor they needed.”

“Chihaya...You’re already doing great. And I remember Sakurazawa-sensei telling you the same last time, too.”

“...Thanks, Taichi. I’ll try harder to remember that...Anyway, I’m going ahead and answering you next question: I’m not going home because I’ll be staying at your place.”

“But, as you know from your stolen copy of my schedule, I’ll be stuck studying.”

“Yep. Alchemy midterms, right?”

“Chemistry, Chihaya, it’s Chemistry ─You know what? Call it what you want.”

“That’s good, because it really sounds more interesting that way! But going back to your point─it’s my turn to look after you now, after what you just did for me.”

“And how can you help me with my midterms?”

“That’s what the painkillers are for. I’ll be busy nursing your headaches, baka Taichi. Which reminds me─can we stop at the grocery too?”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to burn my kitchen─hey, stop punching me! Cook, alright─Don’t tell me you’re going to cook again.”

“Whether you like it or not, I’m cooking. If I’m going to be called Mashima-sensei by my students in the future like what Haruomi-kun just did, I might as well start preparing to pass Mrs. Pressure’s standards, ne, Taichi?”

“...”

“See? I thought so, too.”

#*footnote: i ran out of strength for writing exposition sooo convo form it is #chihayafuru #taichihaya #mashima taichi #ayase chihaya #come talk taichihaya with me! #ESPECIALLY CHAPTER 229 WHAT WAS THATTTT FINALLY SUETSUGU-SENSEI HAHAHA

[softeddiek]

so @aryaofoldstones answered this ask awhile ago about gendrya’s favorite fast food place and, as a Sonic fan, i loved their answer (tags included) and ended up writing about some of it??

so modern gendrya first date au 

read on ao3 

i’ve got a hunger, twisting my stomach into knots 

Arya is standing in front of her full-length mirror tugging at the bottom of her shirt when, out of the corner of her eye, she sees Bran wheeling himself into her doorway.

“Sansa’s going to call and order us some pizza. Want your usual?” he grins, thinking she’ll request her own box of sausage and mushroom that nobody else will eat. But not tonight.

“No, I’m going out for dinner actually, but thanks,” she answers, turning her head back toward her reflection.

She can still feel his eyes on her and hears the confusion in his voice when he asks, “Out? Like, with someone else?”

“Just with Gendry.”

She’s turning toward her bedside table, reaching for her phone to see if he’s texted her to let her know he’s here, when she realizes she hasn’t heard the telltale sound of Bran’s wheelchair rolling away on the hardwood floors of the hallway.

“So, like on a date?”  

She whips her head around to see a shit-eating grin on Bran’s face. “You and Gendry are going on a date,” he states this time, pleased to have figured it out. Or to think he’s figured it out, because even if Bran would likely be cool about this sort of thing, no way in hell is she going to let him blabber on about her and Gendry and dates to their siblings.

And yeah so, maybe the past few weeks all she’s really had to go off of was the way things between her and Gendry had started to feel…different, but when she’d agreed to grab dinner with him tonight—something they did frequently—he had actually looked her in the eyes and said “Great, it’s a date then.” So really, it was a date. But again, Bran couldn’t know that.

“A date?” she scoffs, “Very funny Bran, I don’t know how you came up with that. Gendry and I go out for food all of the time.”

“Yeah but this is different. I can just tell.”

“Oh please,” she says, rolling her eyes, “don’t even start with that intuition shit again. We’re just going out for food. Like we always do.” If the raised eyebrow he gives her says anything, it’s that he sees right through her. “Sonic,” she blurts out. “We’re going to get Sonic. Now tell me that’s somewhere you go on a date.” That should do it.

“Arya,” he starts, a quizzical look forming on his face, “you guys love Sonic.”

She can feel the heat creeping up her cheeks and is preparing to defend herself by trashing her favorite drive-in when she hears the front door opening, accompanied by voices carrying up to her bedroom.

Deciding to use this as her out, she turns back around quickly to pocket her phone and slips into a pair of shoes lying at the foot of her bed.

“Bye Bran enjoy the pizza,” she says, edging around where he still sits in her doorway. She takes the stairs down two at a time, coming to an abrupt stop at the foot of them when she sees Gendry in her living room. Gendry in her living room having a conversation with Rickon.

Despite having been friends with Gendry for years, she can count the number of times he’d been inside of her house on one hand. At first, there hadn’t been a reason for them to hang out at her house. She’d met him and their other friends, Lommy and Hot Pie, in the park downtown a few blocks from her school. She’d asked to join them on the basketball court where they were messing around with a ball. Lommy and Hot Pie hadn’t been too thrilled to let a girl join them, but after some terse words from both herself and Gendry, they relented. After that, it had just become sort of a routine to meet up with them at the park after school each day.

Eventually though, Lommy moved away and Hot Pie had had to start helping out in his parents’ bakery after school, so it was usually just Gendry she’d meet up with when he wasn’t trying to pick up shifts at his new job. When she finally started attending the high school he went to along with Sansa and Jon, he’d been surprised to find out she was a Stark. (How it took that long to find out her last name, she didn’t know.)

He continued acting strange around her for a few weeks until one day when Jon was away visiting his sick uncle Aemon and Arya had no way of getting home after school. Sansa usually got a ride from her friend Margaery, but she wasn’t in the mood to ride with them, so she went to Gendry. He’d reluctantly agreed to drive her home in his beat-up old pickup. With plenty to tell him about her first few weeks of high school, things between them seemed to have gone back to normal as they talked on the ride there. Until they reached her house.

She’d invited him inside to play some video games, not picking up on the wary looks he was shooting her as she all but dragged him through the door. As he stood in their front living room, taking in the ostentatious furniture her mother had it decorated with at the time, his brow had begun to furrow, and a frown formed on his face.

“I gotta get going, actually. My mom’s expecting me home.” He turned quickly to rush out the door, ignoring Arya’s shouts behind him until she’d caught up just as he was reaching for the driver’s side door, grabbing onto his arm to turn him around.

“What’s going on, why are you leaving?” she’d asked.

“I already told you,” he’d said, eyes looking at everything but her, “I’m expected home soon.”

“No, you aren’t,” she chanced. “So why are you being a dick Gendry?”

He looked up at her with a scowl. “I’m not—”

“Yeah, you are, so just tell me why so we can move past it because you’ve been weird for weeks now.”

He looked at her for a minute, face betraying nothing, until finally, seeing she wouldn’t leave it alone, his resolve broke. Sighing, he’d said, “You’re rich, Arya. Like, really rich.”

“Technically, my parents are rich--.” She stopped at the look on Gendry’s face that seemed to say, ‘Are you serious?’ “Okay, my family is rich. So what?”

“So, you’re rich and practically live in a mansion. My mom and I live in a run-down, one-bedroom apartment. I just don’t get why we’d be friends is all.”

She’d tried not to let the hurt show on her face, but at his guilty look she’d known she hadn’t succeeded. “We’re friends because we like hanging out together,” she’d supplied. “I don’t care about that kind of thing; I never have, and you should know that seeing as we’ve been best friends for years.”

After a bit more cajoling on Arya’s part, he’d relented and gone back inside with her, but she noticed his discomfort the rest of the afternoon. She had thrown out the occasional casual invitation to come over the last few years, but she could only be shrugged off so many times before she stopped asking.

And it’s not like he has a phobia of her house or anything. Once Jon had graduated with his AA and transferred down to King’s Landing to finish his Bachelors, Gendry had taken to picking her up after school. They’d usually grab some food to take back to the shop while he worked the last couple hours of his shift, and then he’d drive her home. He rarely ever came inside though.

But now, here he was, perched on the edge of the couch having a conversation with Rickon. Or, listening to Rickon.

“And the Direwolves drafted Margaery’s brother, Loras, from Storm’s End two years ago because he led them to the Final Four, but he tore his ACL in his second game with us and sat out basically his whole rookie season and just hasn’t been the same since he came back. Arya thinks we should put him in some kind of trade package and send him to the Riverlands, but I think that’s just because she didn’t like him when Margaery introduced them.”

Gendry’s head is nodding as Rickon speaks, but she knows he has no clue what Rickon’s talking about. They may have met on a basketball court, but Gendry was too big and clumsy to seriously play, and he never had the time to watch professional games with her.

“I don’t like Loras because he thinks he’s the next Arthur Dayne,” she pipes up, moving from her spot at the bottom of the stairs to stand behind the couch they’re sitting on, “but he has none of the defensive skill and his handles are trash.” Gendry is grinning up at her now. “You’re right though, he did piss me off the first time we met,” she adds.

“Hey Arya. You ready to go?” Gendry asks, still smiling.

“Go? Where are you guys going, Sansa’s ordering pizza and Bran and I were going to play Smash,” Rickon interjects, a small frown on his lips.  

“They’re going to get Sonic instead,” Bran’s voice calls out across the room from the bottom of his wheelchair ramp.

Gendry glances over at Arya confused, while she and Bran hold each other’s stares.

“Oh, can you guys pick me up that new Red Bull slushie they have? I’ve been wanting to try it, but Mom won’t let me,” Rickon pleads.

Arya glances at Gendry out of the corner of her eye before fumbling for a response. “Umm, actually Rickon, I don’t think—”

“Hey Rick, I forgot to tell Sansa you want cheese bread, and she’s placing the order right now,” Bran interrupts, saving her from the mess he made.

“Oh shit,” her brother exclaims, jumping up off the couch and darting into the kitchen.

Bran starts following him, only looking back at Arya’s icy glare once to call out, “Have fun guys!”

Gendry, now off the couch and standing at her side, is rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, keys in the other. “I’m guessing Bran knows about our…us?”

He hadn’t used the word date and not quite wanting to ask for clarification—especially when her siblings are still in the other room and she knows, just knows, that if Sansa were to come and see them, she’d know exactly what was going on—she just nods her affirmation.

“Let’s get going,” she says, heading for the door.

His truck is sitting in their circular driveway, parked in the spot it usually is when he drops her off. She’s reaching for the door handle, but he beats her to it, his arm reaching out in front of her, chest lightly brushing her back. She lets him open it for her and slides into the cab of the truck. When she looks over as he’s shutting the door, she sees a blush spreading across his cheeks.

Okay, this is definitely a date. One hundred percent a date. As much as she had made fun of Sansa for combing over magazines for relationship advice over the years, she’d still listened to some of the things she went on about. And in this moment, she can hear her sister’s voice saying, “A gentlemen always opens doors for a lady, Arya. It’s just proper date etiquette.” She always thought that was dumb—because yeah, it’s nice and polite, but she doesn’t want anyone to open a door for her just because she’s a girl—and Gendry doesn’t just regularly open doors for her.

“Thanks,” she mumbles out.

He’s slid into his side of the cab and taken a deep breath when he looks over at her and says, “So. Sonic?” She can hear the confusion in his voice. They hadn’t really discussed it before, only agreed to get dinner, but if that’s how Bran’s going to spin it to her family, they might as well. And besides, Bran was right, they do frequently pick it up to take it back to the shop with them, they’ve just never actually pulled in to eat because that would be so, well, date-like.

“Yeah, I mean. That works. I could really go for a slushie right now.”

He cracks a smile at that. “Can’t you always?” She grins back at him as he starts his truck, slowly pulling out of the driveway.

Sonic is only about a fifteen-minute ride from her house, closer to Gendry’s side of town, but now, only a few minutes in, the silence is beginning to become oppressive. His fingers are tapping on the steering wheel, whether to an imaginary beat or out of nerves, she isn’t sure. She reaches forward to turn on the radio, messing with the dial until it lands on a station she enjoys, and he tolerates. She hums along to the radio under her breath for a little while and, from the corner of her eye, can see the tension slowly start to seep out of his shoulders.

Gendry’s never been much of a talker. His surly looks and generally shy personality tend to put people off, and that’s just how he likes it. Arya on the other hand loves talking to people, always has. Her parents’ friends had taken to calling her Arya Underfoot as a child because at their big fancy holiday parties she could always be found darting around the room, catching snippets of conversations, before taking off to see whatever else caught her fancy.

But just because Gendry didn’t love holding long, drawn-out conversations, that didn’t mean he’d been exempt from holding them with Arya. And, seemingly quickly, he became comfortable with that. So, this was just weird. Just because this could now be classified as a date and not just the two of them hanging out, didn’t mean there was a reason for either one of them to be this nervous, right? One of them needed to speak.

“How was Tobho’s today?” Good, that’s a safe question. Gendry loves talking about the auto shop he works at and she knows he had a heavy workload today, even going so far as to seeing if she could get Sansa, who was home from school for the weekend, to pick her up after classes.

He looks over at her then—for the first time since they pulled away from her house—and the relief she sees on his face is practically palpable.

“Great actually. You know how I said that old rich guy, Lannister, was being an ass about me working on his car, had all these stupid ‘rules’ and stuff?” She nods her head with a scowl, thinking about the family her Uncle Robert had married into. “Well apparently he actually thought I did a good job on his car and gave me a decent tip. I mean,” he scoffs, “not like it’s much to him. With a car like that, the man probably shits gold.”

He continues talking about his day and all of the technical aspects of what he worked on, with Arya only slightly struggling to keep up—she has spent most afternoons after school at the shop for a few years now, after all—and the rest of the ride flies by.

As they pull into Sonic, they’re busy laughing about that time Arya was sitting inside a car at the shop and accidentally blew on the horn, not knowing that his coworker, Lem, was working on it. She surprised him so badly that he jumped up and nearly broke his nose on the hood.

When her laughter dies down, she notices only a handful of the drive-in spots are taken and a few people are sitting at the tables outside. He pulls into an open space near the middle.

“Do you know what you want,” he asks, looking over at her.

“Umm…a large watermelon slushie with Nerds and some fries.”

Face scrunched up and laughing, Gendry says, “A slushie with Nerds? That’s so gross Arry.” She sticks her tongue out as him as he leans forward out of his window to press the button to order.

A vaguely familiar voice crackles out of the speaker, asking to take their order. “Yeah, can I get a large watermelon slushie, with Nerds,” he pauses, looking over at her for dramatic effect, “a large order of fries, a bacon double cheeseburger, a corndog, a large Coke, and umm, some onion rings, and an order of chili cheese tots?”

He’s fumbling for his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans and listening to the voice rattle the order off back to him, not noticing the incredulous look she’s shooting him.

“What?” he questions, when he finally looks over.

“I’m sorry, is Hot Pie in the bed of the tuck and you just forgot to tell me?”

“I missed lunch,” he grumbles out. “And besides, I told you I got a big tip today. Might as well spend it on something, right?”

“Gendry, I can pay for my half, you don’t have to—”

“Arya,” he cuts her off, giving her a familiar look, one that says, ‘Don’t argue’. They usually alternate paying for food that they pick up and she knows for a fact that he paid for their McDonald’s the other day. But she knows how self-conscious he gets about money. As much as she doesn’t want him to have to spend his hard-earned tip on their food, she knows that talking about it anymore will only make him crabby. Besides, this is a date, right? Dates are allowed to want to pay for each other’s food.

“Fine, but I’ll get it next time.”

“Sure,” he says around a smile, knowing she doesn’t just mean the next time they hang out at the shop. “Next time.”

They grin at each other for a minute, the air around them silent but for the sound of the radio outside playing some song that she can vaguely identify as being sung by Bruce Springsteen and the occasional sound of roller skates on the asphalt. As goofy as she knows her smile is and as much as she would normally call this moment a cliché, she can’t find it in herself to care, what with the feeling of Gendry’s blue eyes on her and knowing that she’s the reason for his wide grin.

“So,” he begins, “how was school today?”

“Pretty good actually,” she starts, thinking on it. “I found out I got an A on my Braavosi test. Mr. Terys said that when I go to college, I should take a Pentoshi class for my foreign language credit since they’re pretty similar. And then, in drama, Ms. Sand announced that we’re going to be doing Antigone for our spring show, which I personally think is way too much for us to handle but she loves her tragedies.”

“Is she the one that was dating the chemistry teacher a few years back?”

“Mr. Martell, yeah. I think they’re off-again right now,” she muses, “she’s been having us perform lots of sad monologues in class.”

“So, are you going to audition?”

“Oh yeah. There aren’t a lot of speaking roles or female roles, but Ms. Sand always gives preference to seniors for leads, so I think I have a pretty good shot.”

He’s opening his mouth to say something when they both spot someone on a pair of roller skates in the rearview mirror headed their way. When they pull to a stop by Gendry’s rolled down window, greeting them with their order and the total, Arya realizes why she recognized the voice on the speaker.

“…and one large Coke,” she finishes off, taking payment from Gendry. It’s when she looks up to begin handing them their order that she notices Arya in the passenger seat. “Arya, hi!” she says, complete with a friendly smile.

“Hey Brea. I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Yeah, the waters are too cold right now for me to stay busy working with Dad, so I applied here for some extra cash.” Arya nods at this, vaguely remembering Brea’s dad being involved in deep sea fishing or something like that. “Who’s this?” she asks, giving Gendry an appreciative look.

“Gendry,” he grunts out, more focused on the food they have yet to be given than the sly glance she’s sending Arya.

“Oh, so you’re Gendry?” She lets out a giggle that gets his attention. Arya narrows her eyes at Brea, confused. She’s mentioned Gendry to Brea in passing, he’s her best friend, how could she not? But she hadn’t said anything that would warrant the giggle and the knowing look Brea now wears.

“Yeah,” he draws out suspiciously, looking between the two girls. “Think we can get our food now?”

“Of course!” She begins handing Gendry the outrageous amount of food—a bemused expression forming as she realizes that all of this seems to be for them—while he sets it down in some pseudo-picnic style on the stretch of seat in between them.

“See you around Arya,” she says after collecting the money, skating away with ease.

Gendry thrusts her slushie into her outstretched hand. Arya expects him to ask about Brea, but when she’s done poking her straw into her drink and looks at him, he’s already shoveling onion rings and a few of her fries into his mouth while one-handedly trying to pull his burger out of the slip of foil.

“You know,” she starts, “the meat’s already dead Gendry. I don’t think your burger is going to be running away anytime soon.”

He gives a dry laugh and sends a deadpan look her way, where she’s smirking around her straw. “Don’t know how you drink those things.” He nods toward her. “They sound toxic, pure sugar,” he says loftily, nose pointing in the air.

“Oh please, don’t act like you didn’t only stop ordering them because you always get a major brain freeze.”

He pouts at that for a minute before biting enthusiastically into his burger. After swallowing his bite and taking a large gulp of his Coke he says, “Do you know what night your play will open? I wanna make sure I let Tobho know in advance I’ll be needing to leave work early that day.” Gendry’s boss often has him stay later in the spring, when daylight is easier to come by. Opening night is bound to be on a Friday, and while Gendry always come to see her performances at some point during their run, she doesn’t want him missing out on work opportunities because of it.

“Oh no,” she says quickly, “you can just go on the weekend or something, I don’t want you missing work because of me. Besides, I might not even get a part.”

He chews thoughtfully on his corndog for a moment. “But if you don’t, you’ll still be doing tech, right?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Then I’ll be there opening night. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Okay,” she says, ducking her head to hide her small smile, under the pretense of trying to drink her slushie.

Their conversation moves onto other topics—Gendry’s coworker, Harmon, who’d just been fired; a new scone recipe that Hot Pie had been using them as taste-testing guinea pigs for; the new single from that terrible alt-rock band, The Brotherhood, that Gendry likes. Before she knows it, Arya’s reaching for her slushie again, only to be met with the sound of her straw sucking up air. Eyebrows furrowing, she looks at the stretch of seat between them only to see that Gendry’s managed to finish all of his food.

He has a hand rubbing the back of his neck and is looking at the clock on the dash that says they’ve been parked for at least an hour and a half. “Guess we’ve been here a little while, huh?” It’s really not all that late for a Friday night, but she knows her parents will be getting home from their night out soon and she’s not ready to have a conversation about her and Gendry with her mother just yet. Or her father.

“Yeah, I probably need to get back soon,” she reluctantly replies.

“Yeah of course.” He gathers up the wrappers and trash littering the seat (and really, it’s an awful lot) along with Arya’s empty slushie cup and hops out to toss it all in the trash can.

Buckling up, she starts thinking about how the night had gone. Things had definitely been flirty, but that had been happening more and more lately. Really it hadn’t been any different than any other time they’d hung out. But did that just mean that they were comfortable around each other or had this not actually ended up being a date? Going to Sonic wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for them, so what if, by suggesting they go there, he thought that she didn’t think this was a date? By the time he’s made the short walk back to the truck, Arya’s head is swimming.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she chokes out, a strained smile on her face. He gives her a quizzical look and, sensing his confusion, she attempts to make it more genuine. It seems to work because his eyes only linger on her for a second longer before he starts to back out.

Luckily for her, Gendry’s chosen the drive home to vent about his mom’s newest boyfriend, which requires little response on her part.

“And he’s just so boring, you know? He’s always trying to talk to me about golf, as if I’ve ever golfed in my life. Oh, and don’t even getting me started on how often I’ve caught them making out on the couch—my couch! The one I slept on the whole time I lived there—”

Oh shit. All of a sudden it’s no longer Gendry’s diatribe she’s hearing, but her sister’s high pitched, fourteen year old voice as she reads, “And at the end of the date, a gentleman will walk a lady to her door and, should the date have gone well and she seem receptive, give her a chaste kiss on the lips.” While Arya is sure she said something snarky at the time about the magazine being shit, even she knows that people usually kiss at the end of dates. And while she’s certainly been thinking about kissing Gendry (a lot), thinking about it and actually being in a situation where she can, are two totally different things.

Wanting to steer clear of this train of thought, she decides to jump into Gendry’s rant before he gives himself an ulcer. “But she really likes him, right?”

He stops his sentence short. “Well, yeah, but she’s liked all of the other guys too, and you know how those all turned out.” While Arya wouldn’t categorize Ms. Waters as a serial dater, Gendry is right in saying that the past few men she’s dated haven’t had the winningest personalities.  

“Didn’t you say he had a steady job though? Something in an office with a salary?”

He hesitates. “Yeah. But he just seems…like he’s trying too hard.”

“Better to try too hard than to not try at all, right? Maybe you should give this one a chance. I’m not saying don’t be cautious, especially with how a lot of the last guys turned out. But she’s an adult and she’ll want you to trust her judgement. And it won’t do her any good if she thinks you already don’t like this guy right away.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “I guess you’re right, I should at least try.” There’s a brief silence before he starts again. “And maybe,” he pauses, sending her a sly, sideways glance “you could teach me a little about golf?”

“Wait, what? I don’t know anything about golf.”

“Then Bran was lying when he said your mother sent you and him to some fancy golf summer camp when you were kids?” he asks.

Her face is heating up furiously. “How long have you known about that?”

He shrugs. “Awhile now. I’ve been waiting for the opportune time to bring it up.”

He’s laughing at the scowl on her face, managing to get her to crack a smile, when they pull into her driveway. When the truck is in park, they both sit in their seats, hesitating. She’s scrambling for something to say, but he saves her when he quickly jumps out and jogs around to her side of the truck, opening up the door.

Suddenly nervous again, all she can manage is a mumbled thanks as she trails alongside him to her front door. They stop on her stoop.

This is it. The moment of truth. Only he’s just standing there, staring at her, his face looking a bit washed out under the harsh porch light.

“Are you alright Gendry? You’re looking a bit queasy. Few too many onion rings?” She jokes. He lets out a small chuckle with her, tentative smile on his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just wanted to say umm,” he clears his throat, “I had a good time tonight. With you. I mean, I always have a good time with you. Hanging out. But a date is a bit more than hanging out, isn’t it? I mean, it felt like hanging out though. Which is good. That is good, isn’t it? God, I’m shit at this.” He rushes this all out, shaking his head when he’s finished, and Arya honestly doesn’t think she’s ever heard him this tongue-tied and nervous before. She’s trying not to let a laugh slip out, what with how distressed he looks, when it hits her that he finally called this a date again. And that’s all she needed.

If anyone were to ask her later, she would definitely deny that she ever had any doubts that this was a date. And how could she have? She and Gendry just worked, of course they would end up dating. She would, however, agree that she had broken the cardinal rule in Sansa’s teen magazines and initiated their first kiss. And it was anything but chaste.

Gendry’s hands have managed to wander to her hips, holding her flush against him, her left hand has found itself tangled in his hair while her right is pressed against his chest. As he slips his tongue in between her lips, brushing it against hers, all she can think of is how she was completely right that kissing Gendry and thinking about kissing Gendry are two totally different things—actually doing it is way better.

They break apart for air, both smiling breathlessly at each other, when they hear footsteps approaching the other side of the door. She takes a step back from Gendry while his hands drop from her waist immediately.

When the door opens, Rickon is standing in front of them, eyes narrowed in suspicion. After staring at them for a moment, “Did you guys get my slushie?”

“They were all out of uh, Red Bull,” Gendry lies.

He stares at them a moment longer, eyes shifting between them both as if ready to call them out on the lie, before his face relaxes.

“Alright. Well we ordered a lot of extra pizza incase you guys were both still hungry.” The idea of Gendry still being hungry almost makes her laugh. “You coming in Gendry?”

He glances over at Arya, as if silently communicating with her that he agrees that they’d be grilled by Sansa and have to deal with Bran sneaking little jokes about them into conversation, and says, “Thanks Rickon, but I ate a lot actually.” Then, turning towards Arya, looking significantly less apprehensive than before they kissed, “I’ll see you Monday?”

“Of course. I’ll text you.” She’ll have to remember to bring up the door opening thing.

He moves forward, as if to give her one last kiss goodbye, before realizing their audience. Playing it off with a quick squeeze to her arm, he gives her and Rickon a nod and a goodnight before walking back to his truck.

She watches him start his truck and pull out, feeling Rickon’s gaze on her neck. She sighs heavily, already knowing he’s figured it out, and turns around.

“So, you and Gendry huh?” He looks curious, less smug than she’d expected.  

“Yes,” she answers, no hesitation.

He nods thoughtfully for a second. “Tell you what. You get me my slushie next time you’re out, and I’ll tell Sansa and Mom that Gendry just dropped you off like usual if they ask. Deal?”

She cracks a smile. “Deal.”

#hope im not overstepping with this #most of this was done weeks ago i just lost motivation to finish it until now #also i know sonic calls them slushes but i think that's dumb #this also made me really hungry #my fic #gendrya fic #axg fic #arya x gendry fic #gendrya positivity #arya x gendry #gendrya

[thedistantstorm]

The Fledgling Diaries: A collection of stories about Marc, Devrim, and Suraya. Devrim’s spending some time on assignment with the Militia. His husband and daughter miss him while he’s away.

Previous parts here: one, two, three. 

It was the third time this week Marc had rolled over, reaching for someone who wasn’t there, sighing into his pillow when all he felt was cool sheets and bitter loneliness. Marc was used to this. It happened only a few times a year, but rarely for this long. Usually, Devrim was gone a week or two. This time, he was informed that it would be at least eight weeks, but could be up to twelve that he would be called away. Their networks needed updating, and the Militia had to step in and do its part. Devrim had gotten off easy for years. Just so happened that this was the year he had a bit more going on than usual.

That being said, it was anticipated enough. He’d known it was coming for a month beforehand, had prepared Marc for it. They hadn’t known how to break the news to Suraya, who was just starting to come out of her shell, just starting to feel comfortable in what was now her home. Devrim agreed she deserved honesty, and when they had told her, she’d sat in her chair at the kitchen table very quietly, not saying a word. When they asked her if she understood, she nodded. When they had asked her how she felt about it, she shrugged. Made a comment that suggested it didn’t matter - and in a way, it didn’t. Devrim couldn’t get out of it, even if he wanted to. Better to be called away for something routine and monotonous than for actual combat. When the conversation was over, she continued to sit quietly, refused to eat more than a couple bites of her supper, and went to bed without complaint immediately after.

Marc knew Dev wouldn’t come to bed that night even if she’d taken it well, and wasn’t surprised to find the two of them snuggled together on the couch the following morning, her head tucked under Dev’s chin, her stuffed bird tucked into the crook of his arm, and his hands folded atop her back, blanket covering them both as they slept. He wasn’t jealous, not by any means. Suraya was just as much Marc’s child as she was Devrim’s, and though the two of them bonded quickly and very intensely, Marc had no doubts that he and Suraya had a strong connection as well.

It was that connection that had him waking up in the middle of the night, that paternal intuition alerting him to issues as naturally as breathing. He had a knack for hearing the quiet snick of her bedroom door closing at two am. It had him creeping quietly down the hallway to stand outside. There was no surprise when her sobbing tore him apart, hurting far worse than the ache Marc himself felt whenever Devrim was away. She put up a good act, Suraya did. But he knew she’d be hurting.

He quietly knocked on the door, not wanting to scare her when he edged it open. She lay on her belly, head pressed into the pillow as she cried, hugging her stuffed animal so tightly it looked like his head would burst and his beak would spit stuffing.

“Darling,” Marc coos, when she doesn’t acknowledge him, “Come here.”

She only shakes her head and tries to stop her crying. It takes Marc a second to scoop her into his arms and hold her tight.

“It’s okay to be upset,” He tells her. “I miss him too.”

Suraya shakes her head and squirms, pushing out of his grasp and against the headboard. “I want Dev,” She says.

“Me too,” He agrees. “But your Dad is doing something very important, princess. He told you why he does what he does. He protects us from all the bad things out there, remember?”

Her lip curls and she nods, but still says, “I want him to come home.”

Marc smiles sadly. “I’m sure he misses you very much.”

She looks at Marc in meek surprise. “You do?”

“Of course,” He agrees. “It’s only natural for fathers to miss their daughters when they’re away. Just like it’s natural for daughters to miss their fathers.”

Eventually, she had soothed, and the lack of sleep had caught up with her. But he could see it in her eyes, the bleak misery in her gaze the next morning. They did their best to keep busy - games, outings to the park, even going so far as to see a musical one of Marc’s coworkers said his daughter enjoyed - but none of it helped her sleep at night.

And then, there were the nightmares.

Horrible, awful dreams. Borne of anxiety and lack of sleep, she'd wake screaming - crying out, for her, was akin to the average child's scream - and unable to speak of whatever it was she'd seen that caused her to react this way. She'd be half-awake, wailing into his chest, fists clenching his nightshirt so tightly he thought her fingernails would leave holes.

One particularly brutal night, he'd come down the hall at a tear when he'd heard her yell only to find her curled into the smallest ball she could make herself on the bed, sobbing forlornly, “I want my Daddy.”

“I'm here, baby,” Marc replied, ignoring the fluttery feeling in his chest. “I'm here.”

Suraya's eyes flashed open, earth-brown glassy irises blown wide with surprise. She was crying in her sleep, he realized. His poor little girl. Her face crumpled, brows knitting together as she sat up and repeated, “I want Dev. I want my Daddy,” before dissolving into a fit.

She'd repeated it over and over, until she’d fallen asleep against her will, Marc rocking her and trying not to let her notice how much she was affecting him. He could only be so strong. Even though he’d known that Suraya would have it tough because she’d really taken a shining to Devrim, it still hurt like hell to hold her in his arms and listen to her cry for his husband. Like… like he wasn’t good enough.

Marc squashed down that line of thought. He knew she loved them both. Maybe not quite the same, and to quantify a child’s love was a difficult thing, especially one as withdrawn as Suraya, but she did love him. It was why she refused to let him lay her back down and tuck her in, locking her arms around his neck and begging him to stay with her.

And Devrim, poor Devrim, hundreds of miles away from the City, doing his duty, would be absolutely utterly wrecked when he found out about this. Suraya was his pride and joy. To find out just how bad this had impacted her would break his heart. Marc sighed. They’d signed up for this, and they’d never want it any other way. Even the difficult bits.

His perseverance paid off days later, when a small hand patted his cheek in the middle of the night. “Marc,” She stage whispered, followed by, “D-dad?” Her voice was tumultuous and quiet all the same. “I can’t sleep.”

He’d lifted the covers and let her slide in next to him, her stuffed bird flopping next to his head on the pillow. Where he had been groggy when she’d come in, he found himself wide awake when she pressed her ear to his chest, sighing and settling easy as she listened to his heartbeat. It was difficult to force himself to sleep after that, not wanting to miss a minute of this easy comfort that he’d been able to give to her - that she’d wanted to get from him. It wasn’t some crazy starry-eyed moment, but it was a big one all the same.

Suraya almost never came to either of them for comfort, rarely asked for anything they didn’t offer first. This was a huge step. A huge victory - for all of them - but most assuredly for the little girl drooling on his shirt, fingers wrapped around his collar who was finally allowing herself to seek what she needed (and they so desperately wished to give).

It’s a week or so later after dinner that the communications device that Marc and Dev so rarely use begins chiming with a video call. Marc shouts at her to come into the kitchen and join him, pulling her onto his lap as he accepts it.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Marc quips as Devrim’s face comes into view. He looks well, a little scruffier than usual, and maybe a bit tired, but the glow in his eyes is warmer than usual. “We’ve been waiting all day for your call.” Suraya nods, cheeks staining pink.

“Hello, loves,” Dev says, and his voice is thick with emotion. “I trust you’ve been well?”

“Of course,” Marc replies easily. “Haven’t we?”

Suraya nods, little eyes still focused on the screen, hands clutching to the edge of the table. “Yeah,” She agrees. Marc thinks she’d hug the screen if he’d let her take the tablet.

“We’ve just finished up,” Dev informs them. “It’ll be another four days, but we should be home in time for the weekend.” Suraya gasps and looks at Marc, who smiles at her.

“That sounds lovely. You’ve been missed.” Suraya leans back against Marc, who wraps an arm around her middle to keep her steady while he fills Dev in on mundane things he’s missed - news, developments at work, and Suraya’s grades in school.

“What say you?” Devrim says, regarding her fondly when they’ve carried on without her long enough. “You’ve been behaving for Marc, yes?”

“Trying to,” Suraya responds. “We saw a musical,” She offers bashfully.

“Did you now?” The sniper leans forward, eyes sparkling, encouraging her to continue. She tells him she liked the music and the costumes, and gives him a very simple explanation of the story. Marc’s lips pull into a small little smile watching his husband indulge her, coax details out of her in his expert way. They carry on for a short while - he won’t have much more time to talk before the next member of his squad will want a turn to call home.

“Alright,” Marc says, when he hears the voices in the background get a bit more urgent. “We won’t keep you. We’ll see you this weekend, darling.”

“I love and miss you both,” Devrim replies. “I’ll see you soon.” He doesn’t miss the look of terror on Suraya’s face or how she bites her lower lip. “Chin up, my dear. Only a few more days.”

“We love you, too,” Marc tells him. Their eyes soften in silent regard, communicating in a way that doesn’t need words.

He’s about to reach for the end call toggle when Suraya blurts, “I miss you, Daddy!”

It’s enough to make Marc’s hand drop short of hitting the disconnect. She’s looking away, cheeks hot and flushed, bashful as ever. Marc can’t help but smile Dev’s wide-eyed look of surprise. “Suraya,” The militiaman calls. Marc can hear how choked up he is, can see the tremor of his lower lip. “My darling girl,” He says. “I miss you more than words could ever say. I’ll be home soon.”

She looks at his face on the screen and nods, scoots down off Marc’s lap a second later. Marc’s gotten better about being able to hear her move through the house, knows she’s gone up to her room.

Marc shifts his head a little in a half-shrug as Dev breathes out a shaky exhale, wipes at his eyes. “How’s it feel, Daddy?”

“I cannot wait to come home to you both,” He says, and it’s never sounded more true. “Did you know she’d...” He clears his throat unable to continue. Marc chuckles softly.

“She might have asked if you’d mind.”

“I-” He laughs, giddy and overwhelmed.

“Pull yourself together, darling, the whole squad’s going to see you crying.”

“They can piss off,” He barks hoarsely. “I’ll bawl if I please. Our daughter-” Devrim shakes his head, looking so unbelievably pleased. “She’s perfect. I love her. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Marc tips his chin up. “Go on then, brag to the them. I know you want to.”

Devrim smirks. “Right you are. I’ll be home soon.”

“We’ll be waiting,” Marc says before they disconnect, “Daddy.”

Marc is willing to bet his husband will still be grinning from ear to ear when they pick him up at the end of the week. But until then, he’s got a little girl to give a bath and a bedtime story to read. Such is the life of a dad.

#suraya hawthorne #devrim kay #devrim's marc #destiny marc #destiny fanfiction #bungie's destiny #destiny the game #destiny fan fiction #destiny community #destiny stories #destiny fanlore #destiny #the fledgling diaries

[theouterdark]

Tag: Get to Know the Writer V

Thanks for the tag, @tlbodine. I’ve done so many of these lately, hope you’re all enjoying it.

Rules: Answer the ten questions, write ten questions, then tag ten people.

1. Do you have any (realistic or not-so-realistic) writer daydreams about your ideal future? What are they?

There are several. I think getting my work developed for the screen is the big one though.

2. What’s a book that was otherwise forgettable but just has that one. weird. thing. about it that sticks in your mind? Like a specific scene/character/detail/line?

Honestly, if a work isn’t captivating enough I’m going to put it down. I don’t think I’ve ever finished a book I didn’t care for, except perhaps in school.

The closest thing related to this that I can think of is a story from the children’s book In A Dark, Dark Room and Other Scary Stories, called The Green Ribbon. It pops into my head every now and then, even though I read it one time in second grade, twenty years ago.

3. What was your first introduction to your favorite author’s work?

I first read Haruki Murakami’s Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World a few years ago, when I was first getting back into writing. A friend of mine read a piece I’d written and said my style reminded him of Murakami’s. I was intrigued, and picked up this book first. It’s an excellent read, and I learned a lot from it.

4. How do you feel about poetry?

There is nothing more agonizing than a piece of art left unfin

5. What’s one question you always wish somebody would ask you about your writing but nobody ever does?

Can I read it?

6. An asshole genie appears. He offers you the choice: Would you rather be able to write anything you want (effortlessly, beautifully, satisfyingly, with ideas that never end) but no one else could ever read it….or have a massive international bestseller except it’s the one and only idea you will ever have in your entire life?

Wow. Asshole genie. I’m assuming if I pick neither, the genie will be free, and  will wreak havoc on all the nearby villages. So I guess the second one? At least then my work could be remembered, and I could move on to other things. There is more desperation and less security in the first option.

7. What’s a song that always puts a story in your head?

“Fate of the Stars” by Tally Hall

8. Have you ever written that story? Or any other song-inspired fiction?

Sort of. It’s a short film called Tenebrism. If you play the short and the song over each other, they should sync up. I listened to that song endlessly while editing.

9. What’s your favorite monster/cryptid that you wish somebody would make a badass horror movie about?

I don’t think Slenderman has been done well, and that bothers me. But if we’re talking legitimate cryptids and not just creepypasta monsters then I’d have to go with Sasquatch. Bigfoot was a youth obsession of mine—when I lived in Michigan, of all places—but now that I’m in the Pacific Northwest, I’m getting the itch to explore the mythos. Most of the work done with him isn’t that great.

There’s this really bad Rear Window wannabe called Abominable, where Bigfoot is a serial killer, and this curly haired douche bag grabs an ax and says, “Hey, assmonkey! Eat this!” And bashes him with it, and proceeds to get his face bitten off. It’s so fucking stupid.

⚠️ GORE WARNING ⚠️ Here’s a video of it.

So that’s where the bar is at. I think it should be raised a bit.

10. Do you ever think of giving up? What’s stopped you?

I do. The itch to get stories out of my head has been the main thing so far, but lately I’ve been question my resolve. I don’t have a good handle on where I’m at, skill wise, and there is a lot of work ahead before I’d get to where I want to be, so we’ll see. I don’t plan on quitting, but the world is chaotic. Something might stop me.

New Questions for the tagged:

What can you write that no one else can?

Are there underrepresented groups or ideas featured if your book?

What is the biggest thing that people THINK they know about your subject/genre, that isn't so?

How do you find or make time to write?

Do you write more by logic or intuition, or some combination of the two?

What do you like to read in your free time?

Who is your favorite tumblr prose writer—the one you always, without fail, must read—and why?

What subjects do you find you cannot write about, and why?

Do you intend to pursue traditional, or self-publishing?

Where did you get the idea for your current work?

These questions are for: @els-writes, @headspace-hotel, @theglambibliophile, @attythonywrites, @sugarmommamusings, @brutalbunnyrabidrabbit, @gloriousdevourerofstories, @thebloodstainedquill, @words-and-nothing-more, and @halfbloodlycan, if they’d like to answer them.

D

#me #about me #get to know me #get to know the writer #tag game #writeblr #writing #writers #writers on tumblr #q&a #the outer dark #bigfoot #abominable #slenderman #cryptid #cryptids #horror #amwritinghorror #short film

[banditthewriter]

It Comes In Waves [Billy Russo] 18

I’ve been dragging my feet on posting because the more I post, the closer to the end I get. And I don’t want this to end. (This one is mostly a filler. Action starts next chapter.) 

@yessy2012 @1550kilogramsofsilver @hermioneshandbag @rileyblues @releasethekracko @youveseen--thebutcher @missphanosaur18 @smiley-celine @itsjustmylifeconfessions @hoodedhavok @anamarierosee @sarasnow22 @sinceimetyou @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @nostalgic-uncertainty @gingerstarlight @musingsofbanana @ironstank @aveatquevale- @giggleberts @ravismorgue @flightoftheflightrisk @thehanneloner @mightymelly @queenisabella789 @clarasworldofwonders @hxbbit @colddecember-night​ @rockintensse​ @ltlfngs @figlia--della--luna @ladyblablabla​ @slamharder @vcneficae Please let me know if I forgot anyone or if you want to be tagged in future Billy stories!

Enjoy!

*****

"So we set up here and here, block the exits. It gives a great vantage point of where you said he usually sits. I've got two sniper rifles so we can wait and see which of us gets the shot." Frank tapped the hand drawn map that Billy had provided. He was using bullets to represent him and Billy, each placed in strategic points. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the bullets, from the knowledge that this was their plan. To wait for the shot to end Rawlins and hope that was that. "This here is where most of his security stays," Billy was saying as he drew a circle around a room in the house he had sketched. "There's cameras that show the entrances but not wide shots. What's your farthest kill again?" You turned and walked out of the area, unseen by the men. David was in the kitchen area, pasta on the stove. He looked over his shoulder and peered at you. "They still going over the plan?" "In detail now," you added as you walked up to him and checked the sauce. You pointed at some of the spices he had and he gestured for you to go ahead. While you added a few pinches of things, you looked over at him and narrowed your eyes. "Billy told me how you got mixed up in this. That video, right? The one that..." "That started all of this? Yeah, that was me. Had a fun time with Frank when he found out. He tied me naked to a chair." You opened your mouth but decided not to ask. You stirred the sauce and then leaned back a little, checking to see if the guys were still hunched over the maps. When you saw that they were, you sighed and leaned forward once more. "I just have a bad feeling about this," you said quietly. David was mixing the sauce directly in with the pasta and he paused when you spoke. "I know it's probably nothing. They're smart and strategic but... I can't shake the feeling." "My wife calls it woman's intuition," David said softly. You hadn't known that David was married, but a glance showed that he was wearing a ring. "If there's one thing I've learned from being married to her, it's that you should never ignore that feeling." "You think I should say something to them?" You looked over to where they were standing. They were talking quietly to each other, no longer staring at the map. "They'd just wave it off. It's just nerves. I've never been involved with something like this." David nodded slowly and then started to spoon the food out into bowls. You grabbed them as he finished and carried them to the table. "Food is ready if you boys wanna eat," you called as you placed two bowls down and then walked back over to grab some utensils. For a safe house, it was rather well stocked. You knew from a brief explanation, that David had faked his death as well. The difference was that his face hadn't been splashed on the news so he could still go out and buy groceries sometimes. Frank and Billy joined the two of you at the table. Billy kissed your temple as he walked by to an open seat. Frank didn't sit but he grabbed his bowl and leaned against a nearby wall. "So what's the plan?" David looked between the two of them and then gave you a look that you steadily ignored. "Going in guns blazing?" "We're going in covert actually. Plus we're going to do some recon first, time shifts and shit." Frank gestured with his fork, a piece of pasta falling to the ground as he did so. "I know you two think we're idiots but we did this shit for a living." "Not idiots," you corrected before David could agree with him. "I just think you both are so intent on this ending that maybe you're moving too fast." "We are taking precautions Y/N. I'm not rushing head first into anything, that I promise you." You looked at Billy as he spoke and nodded. It didn't completely ease the feeling you had, but it made it easier to push down. David shot you a look but you shook your head and went back to your meal. Billy reached over and grabbed your hand, sensing that your mind was working overtime. You smiled at him but he simply raised an eyebrow and waited. "I just... want both of you to be safe." "We will be. Frank is smarter than he looks and I'm more than just a pretty face. We're going to go over contingency, plan for any scenario. I'm not going anywhere any time soon and I'm not letting that lug get killed either." You heard a quiet "thanks?" come from Frank but you ignored him. Instead you squeezed Billy's hand and hoped that his promise would be enough. ------ "Where's the dog?" you asked as you watched the two guys walk around the abandoned building. It was the halfway point between David's safe house and the compound where Rawlins was, so they were planning it as an ambush site if needed. Frank was carrying a lot of explosives and you had started to swear when you realized they had been in the trunk for the whole drive. "She's with a friend," he said evenly as he attached some explosive to a column. Billy was moving around and checking detonators and he shot you a look before both of you turned to face Frank at the same time. "Don't give me that look, I have friends besides you two and Lieberman." "Who?" Billy's tone was probably more incredulous than yours would have been, but it was a good question. And the way that Frank was going out of his way to avoid looking at both of you made you grin. "What's her name?" Billy gave you a look and you smiled wide. "Oh it's obviously a girl. So Frank, who is the lucky lady?" Frank shot you a glare and then sagged a bit when you just continued to smile. "Her name is Karen. Karen Page. She's a--" "A journalist," Billy cut in. "Seriously Frank? You gotta fall for a journalist?" "She was part of my defense team." He said it easily as he put the last piece of explosive down. "She was the first person after everything that made me feel like I wasn't a monster." Billy's shoulders released some of the tension and he nodded as he went back to what he had been doing before. You moved over to Frank and touched his hand gently. "I'm happy for you Frank," you whispered. He nodded and turned his hand over to grasp yours lightly. "I've read some of her stuff. She sounds like a handful." "Oh you have no idea," he said with a roll of his eyes. You smiled and wrapped your free arm around him. "It's just... Maria." "Maria wouldn't want you to be alone for the rest of your life Frank. She would want you to be happy, to find love if you can. You deserve that." Frank nodded slowly and then released you. You could tell he was trying not to get emotional so you stepped away to allow him to collect himself once more. You inspected the building and let out a quiet sigh. This was going to be the last stand if it came to that. This was where Frank and Billy would lead any that followed them after they took Rawlins out. You touched the wall and whispered a quiet prayer to a God you weren't sure you believed was listening anymore, asked Him to protect your family. It was all you could do.

Part 19

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #my writing

[mysmelizabeth-blog]

Hi! Could you do hcs (or scenarios, whichever you prefer) for Zen, Saeyoung, V & Saeran (I don't know if you do Vanderwood, if you do then it'd be nice for him too, but if you don't then just forget it XD), as to how would they react to a poor innocent & naive MC, like, so gullible that she got herself in trouble because someone told her to go with them and she listened because... because she's so gullible?;; Hope you have a nice day...!

I had the time of my LIFE writing this omg. I came up with a few different instances where our MC could get herself into trouble, so only one of them is specifically like the one in your ask, but I do hope you like them!

ZEN

The two of them were out on a date,getting some ice cream and just walking through the streets

It was the weekend, so there were plentyof people about, and Zen was just getting… a bad feeling about somethingpossibly happening to MC

Like his dreams, he always trusts hisintuition, so he was keeping a really close eye on her the entire time, enoughfor her to mention it

“Zen, you ok? You’ve been watching melike a hawk this whole date!” she joked

Feeling a little guilty, he laughed itoff and decided to let it go. He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to lose her,but that hunch kept scratching at the back of his mind:

She’s so cute, anyone would just want totake her!

And so naïve she’d probably just thinkthey were being nice and follow right along…

Little did Zen know he hit the nailright on the head. He had gone to the bathroom and asked MC to wait outside andliterally in the five minutes it took him to be gone, she had disappeared

d e a t h

He freaks out, asking people all overthe street if they’ve seen what they think sounds like a really genericdescription of a girl but to him it’s his princess, the love of his life, he can’t lose her so where is she

He wouldn’t have even found her if hehadn’t accidentally dropped his phone with all the frantic running around thathe was doing

When he bends down to retrieve it, outof the corner of his eye he sees her standing by the back of a white van ina secluded area, talking to some random creepy guy, and Zen can see two other guyssneaking around the other side

BEAST MODE ACTIVATED, AND NOT THE SEXYKIND

Now I don’t know if Zen has some kind ofwrestler or MMA fighter blood in him but he decimatesthose guys. No questions asked, he jumps into the fray and beats them tfdown

Takes MC home immediately and gives herlike a three-hour long lecture on stranger danger and did she never learn thiswhen she was a kid wtf MC

From then on he vows to always use thebathroom before they leave the houseor when they get home, plus The Buddy System™ is foolproof

SAEYOUNG

As we all know, Saeyoung is the type ofperson to use the same type of joke on different people until he gets thereaction he’s looking for

And from the moment he met her, Saeyoungcould tell MC was exactly the kind of gullible person his jokes would have theperfect effect on

He knew the perfect one to use

It had never worked on a single personup until now, but he felt confident that MC would be the one

They were hanging out, playing videogames and just generally goofing around like two idiots… but Saeyoung was everplotting out his move, the perfect moment to strike

MC offhandedly mentioned something andSaeyoung knew. The time was now.

He sighed deeply and said, “Man, thatreminds me so much of updog.”

MC was almost positive she had heardincorrectly, so not wanting to look like an idiot, she just didn’t reply andnodded quietly

Saeyoung was shook, and for just a moment his confidence faltered. He waspositive MC hadn’t heard the joke before… So why didn’t she fall for the line?No… there was no way MC knew.

Composing himself, he waited until theyhad reached a different topic of conversation and tried again, this timespeaking very clearly

“Oh, you mean kind of like updog?”

He was practically sweating with anticipation as he watched the telltale face-scrunchof confusion take over MC’s expression. The world moved as though inslow-motion as she opened her mouth, breathed in, and asked:

“Um, what’s up dog?”

Saeyoung died twice that day… once, fromthe onslaught of uncontrollable laughter that erupted from his body, and thesecond time, from the Bitch Slap of Rage issued to him by an extremely unamusedMC

V

Now, V knew that MC was an incrediblytrusting and sometimes naïve girl

But he had never witnessed her in theact of doing something majorly gullible, so he felt like he must have justassumed or that was just what her personality seemed like

He felt uncomfortable leaving her alonein the house sometimes when he left for long periods of time on trips, so hefelt like it would be a good idea to try leaving for short periods of time atleast once a week just to convince himself that she’d be safe

On one such day, he decided to make avisit to Jumin’s place and told MC that he’d return later that evening, so sheshould just order pizza around 7 and he’d be back by 7:30

He figured nothing could possibly happen

But oh lord was he wrong

V came back at 7:30, as promised, andopened the front door to hear a movie playing in the other room

He smiled to himself, thinking that hewould join MC and they’d have a nice, relaxing movie night where they couldjust cuddle on the couch

Walked through the kitchen, grabbed aslice of pizza on the way in (which was already halfway gone, to his confusion…MC didn’t usually eat that much or that fast), and walked into the TV room,opening his mouth to say: “I’m h—“

V’s plate fell on the floor as he tookin the scene before him:

MC, sitting on the couch, watching amovie with the pizza guy

“Hey, V! Jason here noticed I was bymyself and asked if I wanted some company till you came home!”

The guy is out within a matter ofseconds, so fast that MC barely has the opportunity to explain that nothinghappened and that she’s fine

As soon as the door shuts behind Jason,V e x p l o d e s with “He could have been a murderer or a burglar or a rapistor any other number of terrible things and you could have died or had somethingterrible happen to you and ANYTHING can happen in a half hour and”

This is a RARE side of V and he doesn’tstop talking for a good hour or so until MC finally gets him to calm down,promising she’ll never talk to or be involved with strangers in any way fromnow on

He actually has to pry himself from herside when he has to go on work trips though

SAERAN

MC gets a lot of emails since she worksfor the RFA

99% of the emails are valid, from gueststhat the RFA members suggest or close connections

But some emails are… Not so much

Saeran takes good care of MC and makessure she’s always protected, and looking scary helps when they’re in public tooand anyone thinks of getting too close

But he never expected her to be sogullible because that’s sort of the one thing he can’t protect her from. Plus,being so protective all the time doesn’t allow for many instances where she cando something gullible

But he learned a harsh lesson when oneday MC came swaggering into the room saying, “Saeran, we’re gonna be rich!”

There was a pause

Saeran’s eyes narrowed dangerously as heassumed there was a story behind this, and probably not a good one. “Explain.”

MC’s eyes light up as she tells thestory of how she received an email from a Nigerian prince who became aware thata distant relative of his was wrongly arrested and in need of help. The princeis fabulously rich, but can’t spend money at the moment and fervently asks MCfor her help

She continues, “He must know that theRFA is filled with important and sometimes rich people who would be willing togive him a hand!”

By the end of the story, Saeran’s handsare balled into fists and he’s struggling not to start screaming and yellingright off the bat

“So… did you… give this guy… any money?”

“Not yet, no! I figured I would let youknow before I did anything.”

Saeran practically melts into his chairfrom the pure relief washing over him like a tidal wave

He gets angry like a minute later ofcourse, because that was a really close call, and gives MC a long long longlong lecture on never paying attention to an email like that ever again, EVER.

Then tightens up the computer’s securitysystem because you can never be too careful with gullible MC

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger imagines #mystic messenger scenarios

[j-esbian]

good intentions, bad intuition

for @thinkoutsidethelovesquare​ month I got the chance to remix @alya-bug​‘s work, and Misunderstanding was just too cute and too funny! I couldn’t resist remixing it with ninoir. I hope you like it!!! <3

on ao3

Words: 3419

Nino was no stranger to nighttime visits from Chat Noir. Chat had an ego that loved to be stoked by his favorite fan. It was nice, truth be told, and he wasn’t looking to complain; they’d spill their frustrations to each other, or talk about the weather, or listen to music, or just chill out. Lately, however, Chat seemed to be coming by all the time, and Nino was starting to form his own suspicions…

The final piece fell into place when one of Chat’s usual rants about an argument he’d had with his father was cut short by a loud rumble. Chat hugged his stomach and grinned sheepishly at Nino. “Sorry. I haven’t eaten yet today.”

“Dude, it’s three in the afternoon,” Nino said.

“It’s Saturday!” Chat protested.

Nino simply shook his head in disbelief and walked out his bedroom door without a word. Chat glanced around nervously--was he supposed to follow? Stay there? Leave? But Nino returned quickly with a few bags of snacks. He pushed them into Chat’s chest, snagged a bag of potato chips for himself, and sat back down.

He popped a chip into his mouth. “So, you were saying?” Nino prompted, raising an eyebrow.

Chat’s shoulders relaxed and he shifted the snacks to his lap. “I mean, it's like my dad doesn't want me around,” he continued. “He wants to be able to say he has control over me, but he only ever talks to me to lock me up, and ignores me half the time anyway. It's just-- good to get away, you know?”

Nino thought of Adrien, and the trouble he'd gone through just to go to a normal school. This guy’s dad sounded a thousand times worse. “Yeah, man, I know.”

Adrien walked in on Marinette yelling at Nino, which was a surprising sight, to say the least.

“What do you mean, you don't know?” she shouted.

“It means I don't know!” Nino shot back. “I can't just straight-up ask him, can I? If he's already in a dangerous situation, I don't want to make things worse. And he comes to me for a break from all that. I don't want to make things weird a-and scare him off.”

“Yeah, well, things are already pretty weird if he's living on the streets,” Marinette bit out, slumping back into her seat.

Adrien sat down and gave Nino a quizzical look. “What's going on?” he whispered, glancing back at Marinette, who was pointedly looking at her phone. “Dude, what did you do?”

Nino sighed. “I didn't do anything, and that's why she's pissed. Listen, man, your dad's rough on you sometimes. Have you ever thought about running away? Not just to school, but, like, for good?”

More times than I can count , Adrien thought, but simply nodded. Nino sighed and buried his face in his hands, rubbing at his eyes underneath his smudged glasses.

“Dude, what's up?” Adrien pressed.

Nino heaved a heavy sigh. “There's this guy I know. And his situation at home isn't the greatest, and I don't think he eats very often, and--Marinette thinks he's homeless, and she might not be... wrong.”

Adrien frowned. “That’s really rough,” he said slowly. “I guess--I mean, gosh, if you don't want to ask outright, the best you can do is drop hints. Maybe you could invite him to spend the night at your place? Just see how he takes it? And work from there?”

Nino grimaced. “No, I definitely don’t think-- I mean, he’s always the one to ask me what’s wrong. And if something’s up with him, he’d tell me. I’m worried, but I don’t think--” He broke off and, seeing Marinette glowering down at him, continued in a hushed voice, “I don’t think it’s that bad. Yet.” Nino shrugged. “Dude’s been having a bad couple of weeks, anyway. I made him a mixtape. That always seems to make people feel better.”

“Yeah, it does,” Adrien grinned, nudging Nino with his shoulder. He had a full shelf in his bedroom filled with mixes Nino had put together for him, for all kinds of moods. He thought for a moment, then dug around in his bag, pulling out a crumpled bank note. He smoothed it out on the desk and slid it over to Nino. “Here. Give him this, too.”

Nino squinted down at the offering. “Twenty euros? Dude, no way. I can’t…”

“I’m serious,” Adrien insisted. He tucked the bill into Nino’s hand, closing his fingers firmly around it. “If he needs it, great. If not… well, my dad’s rich. He’s not going to get mad at me for wasting twenty euros.”

Nino couldn’t argue with his logic. “Okay. Thanks, seriously.”

Adrien smiled. Nino was a worrier at heart. Maybe it was nothing, but it warmed him to the core to see Nino care so much about his friends.

As it happened, Nino didn't see Chat Noir again for several days. It was enough time for Marinette to thaw out her cold shoulder and send him a massive list of homeless shelters and soup kitchens and other resources that she’d looked up when she was too mad to talk to him. He knew she was a wonderfully compassionate person, and he was grateful for her concern, but he felt guilty for airing his suspicions in the first place. It wasn't his business to share.

Nino spent each passing day wondering if Chat would show up. What was first just a CD grew until Nino had a gift bag, beribboned and shiny, standing vigil for him on a corner of his desk. Finally, on Saturday night, Chat stopped by.

It was a little past midnight and Nino, who had just jerked from an hours-long haze of video editing and realized how late it was, was just beginning to think of going to bed, when he heard a tentative scratching at the window. Though it was an infinitely creepier sound, they'd found that knocking startled Nino's dog and alerted his parents to his late-night guest, so they'd decided on a quieter signal. It gave Nino a heart attack every time he heard it, but his heart always raced when he saw Chat, anyway.

He rolled over in his chair to flip the latch, then scooted back to his computer. Chat let himself in, opening the window and sliding inside noiselessly. Without a word, he crossed over to Nino’s bed and sat down heavily, closing his eyes and leaning his back up against the wall for a solid, silent minute.

Nino looked on apprehensively. He and Chat had been spending a fair amount of time together lately, and in his bedroom, no less; they’d definitely left “hero and fan” behind a few months ago and were crossing into “friends” territory, but Chat had never been so casual around him. They had just reached that stage of friendship that he and Adrien had just barely passed through: being overwhelmingly and unfailingly polite to each other, treading new ground daily and cautious to overstep boundaries. He wasn’t bothered by this sudden change, per se, but it was unexpected.

“Hey, man,” Nino began, trying for a casual tone to match Chat’s mood. It came out much more over-the-top than he intended, and Chat’s eyes flicked open in surprise. “What, uh, what’s up?”

But Nino could tell, now that he was looking Chat in the eyes. He was tired . The mask might have hidden dark circles and pale, drawn skin, but there was no hiding his bloodshot eyes, though Nino thought distractedly that they looked dark rather than red. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that his eyes were green. Was his blood green, too? Maybe Chat Noir was a Vulcan.

Focus .

Nino rubbed at his eyes as if he could erase his own fatigue, and smiled at Chat. “I mean, don’t get me wrong,” he continued, “it’s great to see you. But it’s late, and you look… well, if you were standing up, I’d say you look like you’re about to fall over--”

“I already did that,” Chat said hoarsely. He grinned in that delirious way that seems to overcome the truly exhausted or the unspeakably drunk, and his face relaxed somewhat. “Sorry, dude. I am really tired. I think this is the first time I’ve sat down since this morning.”

“Another akuma attack?” Nino asked. “Jeez, doesn’t Hawk Moth sleep?”

Chat shook his head. “Nah, this was for my other job. My ‘real’ job, I guess. If I had a choice, I’d quit, but, well, being a superhero doesn’t exactly come with a paycheck.” He smiled ruefully. “Sorry, I shouldn’t complain. I know that’s not important. I’m just really starting to hate my other job.”

Nino shook his head. “No worries, dude. I get it. My buddy Adrien’s the same way. I mean, his circumstances are a little different; I don’t think he needs it for the money, but his dad makes him do it all the same. So, what do you do?”

Chat fidgeted. “I, um… I guess you could say I perform.”

“You’re an actor?” Nino’s eyes lit up. “Dude, that’s awesome! I’ve been thinking about making another movie, and I could totally--”

“Uh, not exactly,” Chat interrupted nervously. There was no use in getting Nino’s hopes up, and make promises he wouldn’t be able to keep down the line. “I mean, it’s kind of a… unique job? Well, a lot of people do it, I’m sure, but it’d be a lot easier for you to figure out who I was because it’s not the most common…” Chat trailed off into a huge yawn. “Sorry. I’m not trying to be short with you. I just… can’t really tell you, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, no, of course!” Nino said, nodding furiously. “As long as you’re safe, man.” Chat smiled uncomfortably, and he winced; not the best transition he could come up with, but he soldiered on, pretending to change the subject. “Oh! I have something for you.”

Chat’s ears pricked up. “Really?”

Nino leaned back to snatch up the gift bag and tossed it toward him. “Yeah. Open it when you get--after you leave. I don’t want you to, uh, leave anything behind.”

Chat glanced down at the bag in his hands and prodded at the tissue paper. “Thanks, man. It’s not my birthday or anything. I mean… what’s it for?”

“You know.” Nino shrugged. “Just, um, being a friend?”

“Oh,” Chat said softly. It had been an infuriatingly long day full of endless runways and flashing lights and booming music, and he had a headache the size of a metro car. He hadn’t expected anything more from Nino but a place to relax for a few minutes.

His vision grew blurry. He blinked a few times to clear his eyes, then launched himself at Nino, gripping him tightly into a hug. Nino reeled for a few seconds, then hugged him back just as tightly, closing his eyes and burrowing his head into the crook of Chat’s neck. A sharp, familiar smell lingered in Chat’s hair, and Nino drew back.

“Dude, no offense,” he chuckled, “but you smell rank .” He went to tousle Chat’s hair playfully, but his hand instead got caught in his bangs. His hair crunched audibly when Nino tried to untangle his fingers, opting instead to comb Chat’s bangs back from his eyes. Something sparkled on his forehead in the low light. “And you’ve got, uh, glitter on your face,” Nino muttered.

Chat grimaced. “Sorry. I haven’t taken a shower in a while. I probably smell like I’m made of cigarettes, huh? Oh, jeez, I hope I didn’t get glitter on your bed. That stuff gets everywhere.” He leaned over and began brushing furiously at Nino’s blanket.

“So, uh,” Nino blurted out, “do you smoke?”

Chat frowned and gave Nino’s blanket one last swipe. “Me? No. A lot of people I work with do, though, especially the older guys. Sorry. I’m not trying to stink up your room.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine--” Nino protested, but Chat was already standing up.

“I should leave before I fall asleep here,” Chat said, yawning widely once again. He slid the window open and then turned back to Nino, clutching his gift tightly to his chest. “Thanks for letting me stop in. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. N-no problem,” Nino replied faintly. His brain was suddenly whirring--and worrying--a mile a minute, trying to process all this new information. He sat there dumbly for a few minutes; it wasn’t until a cold breeze slipped through the still-open window that he snapped out of it, and he shook his head and headed for bed.

When he woke up in the morning, he had glitter in his hair.

One of the perks of having the longest day ever was that Adrien got to sleep in the next morning. He rolled out of bed a little after noon and landed on the floor in a dirty, smelly heap. He had barely been able to make it through the window and to his bed last night, let alone take a shower. Something underneath him crunched and for a horrible, sleep-addled moment, he thought he’d landed on Plagg, before remembering Nino’s gift the night before.

He tore the bag open; surprisingly for its size, it held a lot. A pair of croissants, cold and now probably a little stale, wrapped in a grease-stained napkin; a handful of tiny, sample-sized bottles of shampoo; an envelope in a sealed plastic bag; and a CD in a hard plastic case.

Adrien munched on one of the croissants as the shower warmed up and emptied out two bottles of the fancy-smelling shampoo trying to get dried, gummy remains of the hairspray out of his hair. Then he sat back down on his bed, clean and relaxed and polishing off the second croissant, to look over the other presents.

The CD case was blank, except for a sticker on the cover that said “- Nino.” A few song titles were printed in marker on the CD’s surface, and Adrien grinned. Nino had gotten a surprisingly good read on what kind of music he’d like, considering he didn’t know Chat nearly as well as he did Adrien.

He turned to the envelope and slid it out of its protective bag. Instead of holding a letter, though, it contained only two things: a folded sheet of paper with a list printed on it, and a twenty-euro note. Adrien unfolded the paper and scanned the list. It seemed to be mostly homeless shelters and restaurants, with notes scribbled in the margins about who gave out free food and which places had curfews.

Plagg had dug into the empty bag and was laying like a prince, surrounded by discarded tissue paper. “What’s that?” he asked.

“Stuff,” Adrien replied, mystified. Why would Nino give this to him?

Then he remembered Nino’s friend. “Oh,” he said. “He must’ve found a lot of great places when he was helping his friend out, and maybe he thought Ladybug and I might be looking for places to volunteer? I guess the money is… for a donation?”

Plagg shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt, I guess. If you ever have any free time that’s not in the middle of the night.” He sniffed one of the balls of paper around his paws. “Did you save any of that croissant for me?”

The first thing Adrien noticed when he saw Nino on Monday was that he looked completely burnt out, and not in the way he would look when he was up until the early hours of the morning, coming to school on three hours of sleep and a Red Bull. Something was definitely bothering him.

The second thing that caught his eye was that Nino was sitting in the wrong row.

He was sandwiched between Marinette and Alya, and the three of them were whispering intently, their heads bent low in conference.

“Yeah, I know,” Nino was saying. “God.”

Adrien hitched his bag up higher on his shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“His homeless friend’s a stripper,” Alya said bluntly.

Marinette reached behind Nino’s back and swatted her arm. “Alya!”

Nino, however, climbed over Alya to take his place at his own bench. Adrien slid in next to him, and rested his hand on Nino’s shoulder.

“That’s…” he stammered. “Not great. Wow. Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” Nino said. “Dude, what do I do?”

Adrien shrugged helplessly. “The best you can do, I guess. Be there for him. Sounds like he needs it.” He dug into his bag, past Plagg’s sleeping form, and pulled out a crumpled bill. “Here.”

Nino stared at him. “No, man, not again.”

“I’m rich,” Adrien reminded him. “Take it.” Chat Noir certainly didn’t need it, and if Nino was determined to spend twenty euros on someone, it may as well be someone who did.

Nino squinted at it suspiciously. “I don’t know. I’d feel weird if I just kept giving him money. I don’t want the dude to think I’m pitying him. I just… want to be there for him, you know?”

His face shone with such sincerity and innocence that Adrien had to suppress a smile. “I know. But there’s no reason you can’t support him emotionally and give him money. Hold on.” He folded the bill into a bow-tie shape, one of the little tricks he’d learned to keep himself busy backstage. He wiggled it at Nino. “See? Now it’s fun .”

Nino snorted. “All right, dude. But if he’s not homeless, I swear to God, you’re getting this back.”

Adrien beamed. “Thank you. I hope I never see it again.”

The next time Chat saw Nino, it was because he’d been summoned, which was a weird experience in itself. Nino had pulled some strings with Alya, who had contacted Ladybug, asking her to get in touch with her partner and meet Nino at the park by his collège.

It was dusk, and Nino sat by himself, kicking up dust underneath a bench. Chat watched in silence for a minute. He still looked worried.

He dropped down next to Nino. “Hey.”

“Oh. Hi!” Nino replied.

“Thanks for all the stuff the other day,” Chat continued. “That was super nice.”

“Yeah!” Nino nodded. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Is this about the money?” Chat asked. “Because I totally get it. I was a little confused seeing it in there at first, and I totally get it if you need it back.”

Nino tapped his fingers together. “No, that was for you. Uh, here, I’ve actually got some more…” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a bow-tie-shaped bill, pressing it into Chat’s palm.

Chat lifted it up to his eyes. “Oh, cool! You know origami, too?”

“What?” Nino asked. “No, my, uh, best bud did that. Listen, I need to talk to you about something.

“I’m worried about you. I know what your deal is. I know what you...do.” Nino coughed. “It’s not safe to be an underaged stripper. So please. Tell me how I can help you.”

Chat sat in shocked silence for a moment. Then everything fell into place.

“Wait, am I your homeless friend?” he sputtered, looking down at the money in his hand and then back over at Nino.

Nino looked embarrassed. “Um, yeah? A-are you not…?”

“Nope,” Chat confirmed. “Not homeless, and not a stripper.”

Nino buried his face in his hands. “Oh God. Can I die now? I think that’s the only safe way out of this conversation.”

Chat laughed and looped his arm around Nino’s shoulder. “Hey, I appreciate the concern, though. I don’t know of anyone else who’d worry so much for me.”

Nino blushed. “Come on, man, I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Chat admitted. “Maybe my best friend-- oh, wait…” He bumped Nino’s shoulder with his free fist and grinned.

Chat’s hand dangled down and brushed against Nino’s arm, and he laced their fingers together. “It’s kind of sad if I’m your best friend,” Nino scoffed. “Dude, you need to get a life outside of this whole hero thing. Maybe you should be a stripper.”

“Hey, I have a life,” Chat protested. He twisted Nino’s hand in his, brought it to his mouth, kissed it gently. “I guess it’s my fault you’re in both halves.”

Nino laughed. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“You’ve got glitter on your face,” Chat said instead. “This isn’t a fashion show, Nino.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml #think outside the love square #ninoir #chickenscratch #lmao i just realized my first work was remixed too #tfw you slowly stop writing lovesquare stuff right??

[reptilerach]

“Rejection”; Chapter Seven

NOTES: Okay, so here’s the deal. I couldn’t think of an intuitive enough way to incorporate all medical conditions (such as asthma and eczema), so we’re just gonna have to stick to my original script: which is where the Reader has scoliosis. When I was writing this for myself, I wanted to include the struggles I’ve personally had throughout my life. Scoliosis being a major obstacle. This spinal condition will be brought up quite a bit in later chapters, so....yeah. Plays a decent-sized role in the Reader’s health.

Also, there will be a few dark themes in this one, so if you are afraid you’ll get triggered, then there’s your warning. (Don’t worry, there isn’t any gore! It’s just stuff like...well, you’ll see.) Enjoy!

______________________________________________________________

You backed up into a corner, but hit something fluffy. You froze, and bit your lip. You knew he was right behind you, because you felt the touch of his hoodie. So you whirled around, holding your breath- but no one was there. Your heart skipped a beat, and you really began to sweat. Your hands turned clammy, and your back ducked further into the wall. Suddenly, the lights flickered and he was standing right in front of you. You screamed, but he muffled your mouth with a skeletal hand quickly.

He was even scarier like this up close, and you could see his blue eye flaring wilder than earlier before. Your knees knocked against one another, and you gulped. Sans smiled evilly, just as you had did with Papyrus’s protection before he ditched you. “ya know, i thought we were getting along quite well until you went and decided to tease me.” Sans bluntly grumbled, and you showed a nervous smile. “We are! I was only kidding, Sans. Lighten up.” You tried to push him away from you, but he snapped his fingers and suddenly a huge weight was placed upon your shoulders.

Oh, come on! Not again! You wheezed for air, and Sans grinned. “if you are trying to piss me off, it’s working.” He growled, and raised his left hand. The fingers were outstretched, but in the light they looked like talons. You rolled your eyes. “I'm just trying to lighten to mood, dude. Have some fun around here. I know you need it.” You glared at him, and gained the strength to stand up straight.

Sans’ shit eating smile faltered, and he blinked. The blue in his eye was gone, but the feeling of being crushed remained. You beamed triumphantly, and pushed past him to the sink. When you got there, you splashed your face with water to help relax a little. Sans was gonna give you a heart attack sooner or later, with all the stress he puts on you physically and emotionally. Sans turned to face you, his hand still outstretched in case he wanted to prepare another attack. Right now, he was merely keeping you on an invisible leash.

He grunted, and folded his arms. “i have plenty of fun on a daily basis, thank you very much. i don’t need your pity.” The pressure on your shoulders didn't fade away. “Hey, ya mind laying off with the magic? My scoliosis can't take this amount of weight.” You blabbed about, when you suddenly shut your mouth. Dang it. Sans snapped awake, and peered at you with a great deal of inquiry. “‘’scoliosis’? what's that?” You buried your face in your hands, wanting to cry all over again when you got the news about your back.

“Do we really have to talk about it? It's kinda personal.” You pleaded, but Sans only smiled wider. “you heard some of my secret shit, now you hafta’ spill yours. it's gotta be good if you're this reluctant to tell me. besides, you brought it up-” “Alright, alright! Jeez!” You complained, and threw your hands up in the air. Sans smirked, and leaned back against the wall where you were just cornered. You rubbed your temples, and began to explain your condition.

“Scoliosis is a back problem where my spine isn't straight. It's curved like an ‘S’, and it hurts a lot when I don't wear my brace.” Sans looked completely confused, and instinctively rubbed his own spine. “that doesn't sound too bad. where’s your brace?” You groaned, and stood up to crack an ache that had grown into a tight knit behind you. “I don't need to wear it anymore. I wore it for 3-4 years, and it was awful. For the first year or two, I had to wear it 24/7.”

You gazed over to the short skeleton, who gave you a lazy smile. “what's wrong with that? this scoliosis sounds like it's a good thing. can be an excuse to get out of work.” You wanted to smack him, but only threw him a poisonous glare. “The brace was bulky, poked at your side like knives, and everyone would make fun of you!” You were on the verge of tears, and Sans instantly dropped his grin. He actually looked a little more concerned.

You wobbled on your feet uneasily, and grabbed a kitchen chair. You sat down in it, and decided to just let it all out. “‘Here comes Fatty (Y/N)!’ ‘Look at her, she's a screwed up girl who will never get anything done worthwhile in her life because of her disease!’” You choked on my words, and covered your mouth from sobbing completely. Sans stood still in the corner by the fridge, not daring to move.

Sans stared at the trembling human girl by the kitchen table. Her eyes were wide, tears almost about to slip off the edge and spill. Her hair was distraught, and her fingers were clenched white against her lips. He could barely hear what she was saying under her breath, but made out the words, “It’s not a disease… I'm not a monster….” Sans was slightly offended by the last part, but shook it off. Frisk did say that the humans on the Surface were a lot crueler than the monsters in the Underground.

Sans stepped towards (Y/N), and she flinched. But he kept going, until he was right beside her. She was panting heavily, and her shoulders were bouncing up and down from trauma. The skeleton frowned, and lifted a hand shakily outwards, until he stopped mid air. What was he doing? He barely knew this girl. She knows too much, and obviously isn't afraid to test Sans when she wanted. If he got too attached, he could get really hurt. Like what happened with Frisk. At first, he really did care for the human. But after countless resets, Sans had taught himself to not feel anymore.

However, now he was feeling something. Something strong; something that no one ever could give him besides Frisk. And even then the kid didn't provide efficiently. Sans felt sympathy for (Y/N), and knew how scared and depressed she must be living down here in this hell hole. She doesn't know her full capabilities, and probably misses her family on the Surface. if she’s even from there. Sans wanted to trust (Y/N), to be sure that she was a good person just dealing with intense emotional struggling. But he couldn't. He did the same for Frisk, and they failed him. And with emotional struggle, one would get to the point where they'd do anything to relieve themselves from some of the pain. Sans understood this perfectly.

You couldn't help yourself. You bawled your eyes out on that table, not caring what Sans was doing. All you knew was that he was standing right next to you, listening. Your depression and self wallowing came back, and you felt like kicking yourself for letting Sans take on some of your personal burdens. “Do you think it's been easy for me? My scoliosis is only scratching the surface of my problems. And I'm not just about to dump them all out on you. That's not fair to you. But still, you can't judge a person by a first impression, Sans! You can't just assume they're a bad person who wants to hurt people when really all they want to do is have someone to talk with. No friends….no support...it makes you feel all-” “suicidal.”

You whipped your head to him, and the whites in his eyes were gone. He seemed lost in a trance, and grimaced. He blinked his eyes back to normal after a few silent moments. You were stunned, and sniffled pathetically. You wiped your face, and snot covered your arm. You stood up to go to the sink to wash your gross arm, but something caught your left shoulder. It was Sans, and he was smiling sadly at you. You figured he understood what you were saying, since he had finished your sentence for you on the dot.

“(y/n). you aren't a monster, and you have friends. you have toriel, frisk, my brother, and me. we may be only part of a video game-” he paused, and you bit your lip anxiously, “-but it's better than nothing. the point is, you're here now. and you're a strong, healthy human. and although i have been judging you all day, from the way you act towards me and my brother to your sense of humor, i really do see how unique and good hearted your soul is.” You smiled, but your eyebrows drooped empathetically. Sans chuckled, and shook his head.

“i could tell from the moment i judged your soul in the forest, that we have many things in common. and although you can't see the future for this particular timeline-” He beamed a genuine smile, which made you chortle quietly, “i have a feeling that we were gonna be good friends. no matter how much to like to push my limits.” The two of you laughed, and it went without saying that if you were to ever turn on him and hurt his loved ones you were pretty much dead.

A strong sensation burned inside of you, and you decided to go along with it. You grabbed the skeleton by the blue of his jacket and pulled him in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he froze. But, after a few awkward seconds, he returned the embrace by placing his hands on the small of your back. You dipped your burning cheeks into his hoodie, and took a deep breath. The smoothness of his white bone rubbed against your temple, and the grooves from his hands tingled through your shirt. You could really get used to this. “we, uh… have a lot to talk about.” Sans murmured into your shoulder, and you nodded.

When you pulled away, you kept your hands on the 5-foot tall skeleton’s shoulders. He left his hands on your sides, and you laughed to ease the tension. “We all gouda, my bone-a- fide friend?” You giggled, and some hair fell into your face. You pushed it back, and Sans smirked like he just won the lotto. “i already used that.” You shrugged, and grinned. “Couldn't help myself; there was no use skulking around anyways.” Sans chuckled deeply, which pulled on your heartstrings. God, I’m screwed if he keeps that laugh up. It's making my heart get nervous… in a good way. You thought happily, gazing contently at his large, goofy smile. 

FIRST

PREVIOUS

NEXT

Chapter Ten (Where all the chapters before that are.)

Chapter Twenty (Links for Chapters 11 --> 19)

Chapter Thirty (Links for Chapters 21 --> 29)

#reader X sans #reader insert #sans x reader #sans x frisk #frans #sans #undertale #undertale sans #undertale fanfiction #fanfiction #female anon #anon x sans #anon #scoliosis #skelepuns #papyrus #undertale papyrus #rejection

[healthandfitnessrecipes-blog]

My Baby’s Birth Story

https://healthandfitnessrecipes.com/?p=6913

Prior to labor, I tried to listen and read birth stories. I searched Instagram for labor and delivery pictures and watched Youtube videos of new babies being born.

Why? Because I wanted to be as prepared as I could be. Sure, my plan was to have a natural birth. But what if that wasn’t to happen? What if there was a twist in my birth plan and I ended up having to go down a different path that I hadn’t prepared for?

I knew I couldn’t be 100% prepared, but I wanted to feel confident going into my baby’s birthing day.

That’s why I’m sharing my experience with you. I want you to know how my experience was and I want to help empower you to have a positive outlook on your labor and delivery.

I took a hypnobirthing class at The Midwife Center in Pittsburgh, PA. I knew I wanted to learn the techniques of hypnobirthing. The concepts of the practice really align with my meditation and yoga background. I wanted to take the class earlier in my pregnancy, but I started it at 30 weeks. To be honest, since I had a background in breathing techniques I think 10 weeks was perfectly fine. But if I had been unfamiliar with the concepts, I think starting earlier would have been beneficial.

So for those ten weeks, every day I did my rainbow relaxation and repeated my birthing affirmations. As my 40 weeks neared, I started getting more anxious and anxious!

“The MIND F$%K” aka The End of Pregnancy

It’s truly up for debate when my exact due date was, but I was told it’d be in the beginning of March. Throughout my whole pregnancy, I never believed I’d make it past February! I was certain I had gotten pregnant in May, not June.

As February ticked on, I started to become VERY anxious waiting for my baby girl.

February 22nd I started having early labor symptoms. From that day on, I had contractions at some point off and on throughout the day. I had major cramping, every few days my body felt like it was trying to eject everything out of it (aka many trips to the bathroom) and I thought the end was near. (or you could argue the beginning!)

At my 38 week checkup, my midwife told me I was 1cm dilated and 30% effaced. My midwife Lauren asked me if I wanted my membranes swept and I opted to do so! She said it could be any day or it could be a few weeks. There really was no way of knowing.

The following week, I started feeling like I was leaking fluids a whole lot. I called my Doula Becky and told her what was going on. She told me to try to do a test to see if maybe my waters had partially broken. So I drank a glass of water, laid down for 30 minutes and when I stood up I felt water trickle down. Because of this, she suggested I go to the hospital to get check out.

First time in the hospital triage. Shortly was sent home after this picture was taken!

Walking into the hospital I was excited, but intuitively felt like it wasn’t time yet. I didn’t feel like I was in labor and had an inkling that my water had not broken. After checking in and being moved to triage, my suspicions were correct. My waters were still intact and I was not in labor. I went home sad, but I had figured that would happen.

My plan was to have a natural birth and I wanted to support that plan as much as I could. Emme was due 3/8 and I watched that date come and go.

Raspberry leaf tea, primrose oil, Miles Circuit, walking, bouncing on my stability ball, acupuncture, an induction massage, chiropractor adjustments – I tried everything I could to get this baby moving. The only thing I did not try was to eat spicy foods. For the majority of my pregnancy, I couldn’t eat anything with flavor because she gave me SO much heartburn.

Halfway into my 40th week, at my next appointment at Allegheny Health Network Midwives, I was asked if I wanted to be induced. I really wanted it to be all natural, so I said I’d wait. But, before leaving, I did have my Midwife Amanda sweep my membranes again (2nd time).

Thumbs up for Baby during the fetal stress test

Since I passed on the induction, I was required to get an ultrasound and a stress test. If I passed these tests, they said they’d let me wait til I was closer to 42 weeks before having me schedule an induction. Not only did baby pass the tests, but she passed with flying colors. My midwife Amanda said her stress test could have been framed it was so perfect. Before I left the office, she once again swept my membranes (3rd time).

The day of my 38-week appointment I had gone to the nail salon to have my nails done. I wanted to look presentable for my baby to be! As the weeks ticked on, my nails started chipping and I needed to have them done again.

So on Thursday, March 15th, a week after my due date, I went to go get them done again. I left my house around 6 pm. As I was driving the 10-minute drive to the nail salon, I started having a contraction.

“Here we go again!” I thought.

Up til that point, I had had contractions at some point each day. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but it seemed like this time might be different. A few days earlier I had started having contractions at night. I told myself I’d let them go for one hour, to make sure they were legit, before alerting anyone in my family. Of course, at that time they stopped RIGHT at the 1-hour mark. (UGH! SO FRUSTRATING!) But I agreed to follow that same principle here too. I wasn’t going to alert anyone until I passed the 1-hour mark of having consistent contractions.

“Don’t get your hopes up yet, but I may be in labor!”

As I sat getting my nails done, I realized they were occurring every 8-10 minutes. As I drove home, I passed the 1-hour mark and decided to let my family know.

 I walked in the door and prefaced the news with a “don’t get your hopes up. . . this could be a false alarm.”

But this time it didn’t seem like a false alarm!

The Begining of Labor?

I started out laying in bed moving through my surges. Throughout the night I used my yoga ball, a TENS unit my friend Krista let me borrow and spent the majority of my time in a jet tub. Throughout it all, I listened to calming music, had my diffuser running (a mix of Balance and Serenity), lathered up with other oils and tried my best to be present in the moment. Using my hypnobirthing techniques, I tried to stay calm and ride each wave as best I could.

As the night went on, my contractions got stronger and closer together. By 1 am they were almost 5 minutes apart, lasting for 1 minute. I was getting so excited! With the way I was progressing I guessed that by 3-4 am I’d be on my way to the hospital to meet my baby!!

BUT, as soon as I got excited for the contractions to be every 5 minutes apart, they started spacing out longer and longer. The night dragged on and my contractions seemed to diminish. By 7 am they were 20-30 minutes apart.

I was exhausted and FRUSTRATED. Between 7 – 9 am, I was able to get a little sleep. And as Friday the 16th went on, I had contractions about every 10 minutes.

Friday afternoon I called my Midwife practice and talked to Devon. She said that it sounded like I was having prodromal labor that turned into early labor. I had 2 choices: wait it out or come in and get Pitocin moving things along.

I wasn’t sure what to do. I hung up the phone and cried for an hour. The only reason I wanted to go in and get the party started was because I was getting impatient. NOT because there was something seriously wrong. I still really wanted this birth to be natural, so I called back and told her that I’d be waiting it out.

Due to exhaustion, I ended up falling asleep and getting about 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep. It was glorious! I ended up waking up around 1am-ish and realized my contractions were getting closer together again. By 3-4am, they were very close and by 5 am they were 5 minutes apart (AGAIN).

After they were consistent for an hour, I called Devon and let her know that I’d be coming to the hospital.

Is it “go time” yet?

I checked into Jefferson Hospital at 7:30 am and was first moved to the triage room (again).

I’ll be honest, I was nervous they were going to send me home (again). Yes, my contractions were 5 minutes apart, now for over 2 1/2 hours, but the problem was they weren’t very intense. The night before I had had much stronger contractions. I worried I was still having prodromal labor and wouldn’t be any closer to having my baby than I was on Thursday when I had gone in to have my stress test.

Midwives Devon and Amanda came into check me. I was now 80% effaced (at least those contractions had done SOMETHING), but still only 2cm dilated.

I can’t lie, I was really bummed. I thought I was going to be a lot further along – ESPECIALLY since it was Saturday morning and I had started having contractions on Thursday. So a decision had to be made – I was either going to go home and continue to wait it out or make the decision to have my baby and get hooked up to Pitocin. In the meantime, Amanda stripped my membranes (4th time!!) and then left the room to allow me to make my decision.

Now, I REALLY wanted to have a natural birth, but I was only going to have until Monday the 19th to have the baby naturally. After that, my midwives were going to push me to have an induction. Throughout my entire pregnancy, Josh had told me to hold the baby in and have her on St Patty’s Day, March 17th.

There I sat, in the hospital triage room on March 17th, and thought it through. I thought about how if I didn’t have the baby today, there was the chance I could go home and feel this way until they induced me later on that week. I thought about how exhausted I was and they were telling me that my “true” labor hadn’t even started yet. And I thought about how Josh had really wanted her birthday to be on March 17th.

After giving it much thought, the decision was made = we were going to have a baby!

GO TIME!

If you’ve been following my pregnancy story, then you know that my husband Josh was deployed for my entire pregnancy. I was extremely lucky to have my family and Josh’s family by my side helping me not only through the 9 months of pregnancy but during my labor and delivery too.

By 9 am, I was hooked up to an IV and started my Pitocin bag. To me, the day FLEW BY from that point on. Looking back, I feel like the whole day was about 2 hours long.

My care team was stacked. Nurses Kimberly and Lauren were my labor and delivery nurses, my midwife was Amanda and my doula was Becky.

Anesthesia came in to talk to me about the possibility of getting an epidural. They had to make sure everything would be ok since I have a history of blood clotting issues. I still wanted to try to go without it, but I told myself that if at any point I felt like I was suffering instead of managing/coping with the pain, I’d get the injection. I didn’t want to suffer through my labor but wanted to see if I could cope on my own. I had my tools ready to go but wanted to have my back up plan known in case it came to that.

I found sitting on a yoga ball to be the best thing for me. I could move my hips with the surges while wearing my friend’s TENS unit. At the same time, my Doula Becky was able to press down on my hips and gave me a warm rice bag to put on the front of my belly (which felt AWESOME).

I know that the best thing to do in labor is to keep moving, but every time I’d move into a different position I’d hate it and end up going back to the ball.

I was doing pretty well and my contractions were getting stronger and stronger. They weren’t pleasant by any means, but I was coping. If I intently focused on the wave of the surge, I could get through it. I had my eyes closed for most of the time and couldn’t talk to anyone. I hated whenever anyone would come in and ask me a question because that would knock me out of focus. Whenever I wasn’t completely focused, my contraction was always 10 times worse.

Whenever contractions are 2-3 minutes apart, you honestly don’t get much downtime between them. Once it’s over you’re prepping and getting ready for the next one.

Around 2 pm, I was 4cm dilated and Amanda broke my water to get things moving. It wasn’t the breaking of my water that hurt, but the fact that I had a contraction right after they broke it. Like I mentioned before, if I wasn’t intently focusing on the contraction then it was 10 times worse. Having to move up on the bed to have my water broke definitely knocked me out of focus. I won’t lie – I freaked out. I felt like the pain was so intense and everything was overwhelming. It took me a few more contractions to get my head back into the game.

My friend Amy made me birthing affirmation cards and this is the moment I knew I had to really utilize them. I had them spread out in front of me on the bed and I tried to focus all I could on these affirmations.

But, if I’m honest with myself (and with you), once I freaked myself out after my water broke I never could fully get back in control of the surges. I tried my best to manage through them, but I started getting to a breaking point.

Amanda and Becky suggested I try to change positions. So I got up on my knees on the bed and leaned over the back side of the bed. I found it hard to be in this position because of my belly, but apparently, some people really like this position. I wasn’t enjoying it and wasn’t managing my pain the way I had been doing before at this point.

And then that’s when I made the decision . . . I wanted an epidural. I was over it.

Everyone asked me about 10 times if I was truly serious – and I absolutely was. I had psyched myself out and didn’t have my focus. I kept thinking, if this is how I’m feeling at 4cm this could potentially still go on for hours.

Before I received the epidural, Amanda checked me again. This time I was 6cm.

At 3:20 pm the anesthesiologist came in and gave me the epidural. I had my eyes shut the entire time I couldn’t even tell you one thing about the whole event. All I know is at one point he yelled “This is not good! This is NOT good!!” and I was like wtf?! But I was working through a contraction so I tried not to focus on what he was doing.

(Apparently, there was something wrong with one of his instruments or tubes or something and he just needed a new one – which the nurse promptly gave him. But seriously, who yells “This is not good” in a room with a pregnant woman in labor while you’re holding a huge ass needle?! That freaked my mom out big time.)

Within minutes of getting the epidural, I started to feel a million times better. Like, a MILLION times better. It was weird, the contractions ended up going more into my hip once I got the epidural than in my abdomen. This resulted in me laying on my side while Becky massaged my hips.

Within less than an hour, I went from 6cm to 9.5cm by 4:10 pm.

And then it was baby time!!

Meeting My Baby Emme

My favorite part of all was pushing her out.

By then, I was feeling great! I still felt the contractions as they came, but they weren’t painful and I was actually really enjoying myself. I was laughing and smiling (which up to that point I had my eyes closed for hours and hours).

In the delivery room with me, I had my sister and my mom as I delivered. They were an amazing support and I’m so lucky to have had them by my side. Each of them wasn’t sure how they were going to handle being there, but in the end, they both said it was the best experience.

Emme was right on the verge of coming out and Amanda said I had about one more push for her head. As I prepared to push, my mom said something funny which made me laugh. That laugh resulted in Emme’s head popping out! I didn’t even have to push it out, she came out on her own! Amanda laughed and said she’d never had someone laugh their baby’s head out!

2 more pushes, her body came out and I pulled her up onto my chest. It was so surreal – I still can’t believe that it happened and she is here!

I started pushing a little after 5 pm and by 5:35 pm she had made her debut into the world. 25 minutes shy of 48 hours of labor.

During Emme’s birth, Josh was stationed in Syria with very spotty internet service. Up until that point, every time I had tried to Skype or Facetime Josh it would barely work. The week prior to her birth we tried and it connected for maybe about 30 seconds. But the day of her birth a miracle happened. Not only did it work, but it worked for 40 MINUTES!!! So for 40 minutes, Josh got to be with us in the delivery room.

It’s all such a blur to me, but Becky told me after the fact that she thought it was so sweet that Josh kept telling me how beautiful I looked. I did not feel beautiful- I felt gross and sweaty, but I was so so happy. I wished he had been there for the whole thing, but having my family there to support me was amazing. Josh’s sister and mom were even there that day too to meet baby Emme!

I couldn’t have asked for a better support system throughout the entire day.

Reflecting on Almost 48 Hours of Labor

So looking back, how do I feel about it all?

I wish I could do it all again RIGHT NOW. And I’m serious – if you told me I had to go through the almost 48 hours of pain again, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

Birthing my baby was by far the coolest experience I’ve ever had in my life. Throughout my whole pregnancy, I looked forward to that day so much. Not only to meeting the baby I was carrying around, but I was so excited for the act of birthing. I believe it’s the single most loving act that we as women can participate in.

I mean, think about it – we birth love.

Baby’s are God’s love in the purest, simplest form.

And to have been lucky enough to have been apart of that is something I’ll never ever ever ever ever ever ever take for granted.

I enjoyed the whole process of labor and delivery so much. I know I may have used a few choice words here and there throughout those two days, but in the end, it was the most surreal experience.

I pray that I have the opportunity to do it again someday.

Don’t be afraid of your baby’s birthing day. Instead, be excited. It’s something that is amazing to experience. Sure, it’s painful. But it’s the most rewarding experience you’ll ever have.

And for now, I’m going to love my little good luck charm that graced us with her presence on St. Patty’s Day. I’m already thinking about what a crazy 21st birthday this little girl is going to have!

Wishing You A Pain Free Day!

  Credits: Original Content Source

[anikayuzak-blog]

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