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quirklessidiot · 4 years

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Title: tough luck Pairing: GN! Reader x Suna Rintarou [college au] Genre: domestic fluff and my bad comedy (teeny tiny angst if u squint)

Synopsis: “This is what some people call a bad day, Rin-chan.” [this request of suna rintarou + fluff ]

Warnings: minor bad language but thats it Notes:

omg i was finally able to write something fluffy yay! Hshdhdhd the mind- after all that angst. I hope yall enjoy this domestic college au suna hakhak where can i get one of these.

im posting three requests per week (its to help writers block and well, my english in general, they’ll be posted on random days) ill probably limit it to one when school starts though sike currently have four more requests to finish aye.

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Thesis papers be damned.

You might as well burn your group mates to the depths of hell for leaving you to dry these past few weeks. They weren’t even replying to your messages tonight and you were having a mock presentation first thing in the morning.

You aggressively started to mix more cake batter after frosting the cupcakes.

“Baby?” a low voice echoes throughout the quietness of the kitchen, your steely gaze snaps to find your half-awake boyfriend standing there in his sleepwear, his raven hair completely a mess, if it were a normal day, you’d coo and snuggle next to your good-looking man and annoy the fuck out of him but no, you just had to be in a bad mood, “It’s four am, what’s with all the sugar overload?”

“I’m celebrating the death of my sleep schedule and my sanity. Want a cupcake, baby?” a sarcastic grin makes its way to your lips and honestly, despite his deadpan features, Suna was very worried. He had been bugging you these past weeks to stop living in coffee and instant noodles so he decided to crash your place tonight to scold you, cook yourself a hot meal, and smother you to sleep with his hugs but it seemed like it didn’t work at all and you just violently wormed your way out of his grasp.

He slowly made his way to you, eyes half-lidded, and grabbed the rubber spatula from your hands and snuggled his head on your shoulders like a kitten, “Sleep, Y/N. It’s not worth to stress over those shits.” his voice was blank as usual but you knew he meant well.

“Well those shits will be my downfall tomorrow if they can’t answer the panel’s questions.” You spat as you cracked the eggs harshly on the batter and snatched back the rubber spatula from his hand, letting out a loud huff as you continued to mix aggressively.

“Y/N…”

Silence.

“Y/N…”

“Fine.” you grumbled, “Just let me-”

“I’ll clean up.” Suna sighs, grabbing the spatula once again from your hands, “Go to sleep, I’ll wake you up at seven am, just in time for your class, right?”

“But i can-”

“Y/N.” Suna narrows his eyes, determined to get the last say between you two.

“Ugh.” You grumbled, shoulders slouched, “six thirty-”

“No, seven am. Your class doesn’t start until nine. You need more rest. No take-backs.”

Giving your boyfriend one last stink-eye, you slowly trudged yourself to the bedroom and just flopped yourself towards the bed. Ah, how bad could this day even get?

You shouldn’t have jinxed it.

You were almost late since the professor had moved the presentation time to eight am, thank god your apartment was near your uni, your boyfriend literally watched you shove the most decent outfit you could find and throw yourself out the door in a hurry. In the midst of the presentation, your stomach started to grumble too since you weren’t able to grab a cracker or your usual bread to go before class.

Even worse, your stink of an eye group mates weren’t able to get their parts right.

You were downright ready to throttle them, thank god that this was just a mock defense.

Your mood doesn’t exactly brighten even after the defense, you sit there and look like those cartoons who had fumes coming out of their ears. After class ended, you decided to bring it up to your professor and he tells you it’s too late to take the names out.

Your mood dampens even more.

Exiting the classroom with a scrunched up feature, you stop to see a very familiar figure standing there holding a brown paper bag and a cup of steaming hot milk on his other.

“Mornin’” Suna quietly greets you as he gives you a light feathery kiss on your cheek.

You blink.

“Shouldn’t you be in class right now?”

“The professor was absent, he had some staff meeting so I decided to get you a bento box and some milk. Try to avoid coffee for the time being.” Suna explains as he transfers the cup of milk to his other hand so that he could hold your hand, “Let’s have breakfast, Y/N. You don’t have class until another hour, right?”

Before you could protest, your boyfriend drags you to the field and under the shade of a large tree to eat the bento he bought.

Suna quietly listens as you rant on about how annoying and how much you want to throttle your good-for-nothing groupmates, occasionally wiping the little crumbs on the side of your cheek, “...You should take it easy.” Suna simply replies after you finish your rant, “You’ll get a cold if you keep this up.”

“My okaasan will definitely let me live in the cold if I fail a class.” You shiver at the mental image of your mother giving you a sermon. Suna just sighs as he fixes up your trash, he could never argue with you.

“Come,” he stands up and holds out his hand for you again, “I’ll walk you to your next class.”

The sun shines brightly yet your day doesn’t get any better, you had a pop quiz on one of your weakest subjects and you couldn’t even finish the readings since you were too preoccupied with your thesis and your groupmates.

You inwardly let out a groan as you made your way to the library, your phone rings and your brows contort in confusion at the name of your boyfriend. “Hello?”

“How’s class?”

“You’re such a miracle worker.” You sighed, “You always know when to call.”

“That bad?”

“Everything just sucks, ah life feel so shitty these days-” You confessed, scratching your head in annoyance.

“Hey.” He cuts you off, voice dead serious, “It’s just a bad day, Y/N. Don’t worry, we all have these days. How many classes do you still have?”

“Just two.” you huffed out, completely frustrated by how bad your day was going.

“Take a deep breath and drink some water, alright? I’ll see you after class, let's walk home and order some takeout then sleep early alright? My class ends the same time as you today.”

“B-But…” You stop protesting, realizing that Suna would shut down the idea. Saying goodbye to your boyfriend, you take in a deep breath and do as he instructed.

Thankfully nothing major happens on the next subject and as you were about to proceed to your last class, Suna texts you that he has some milk bread on your locker and your favorite banana milk. A small smile made its way to your lips, one more subject and this wretched day was over then you’ll get to snuggle next to your boyfriend.

Again, you shouldn’t have jinxed it.

Someone had accidentally spilled the banana milk you were drinking all over your white shirt along with his cup of mocha drink (which thank god was cold because if it wasn’t, you’d be suffering a burn)

You had to sit through the whole class with the sticky feeling on your chest and that ugly slosh, you really should’ve brought a jacket today.

“Hey baby- jesus christ, Y/N what happened?”

It’s quite hard to gouge a reaction from your boyfriend most of the times but you can’t believe that something as easy as the big ugly slosh of mocha and banana milk stain on your plain white shirt would actually shock him.

You pressed your lip into a tight line, pissed, as you open your arms, “This,” you exclaimed, “This is what some people call a bad day, Rin-chan.”

Suna shakes his head at your antic and just takes his sports jacket to place it on your figure, he’s awfully reminded of a Pomeranian when you’re angry but he’d never say that out loud.

Instead he softly grabs your hand and tugs it lightly, your quiet on your way home. He notices that maybe the fatigue is slowly sinking in, so the minute you guys enter your apartment, he urges you to change into your pajamas while he orders take out.

After a quick bite, you lay on top of him and snuggle on his neck, humming an unfamiliar tune as you draw circles on his chest, “Thanks.”

“Hm?’

“For being there.” You hummed, “I wouldn’t know what I’d do if you weren’t my boyfriend. So yeah, thanks...”

Suna feels a small smile make its way to his lips, he doesn’t respond, instead he just kisses your head and lets you lay on his arms, “Hey Y/N…” He paused and when he notices that you’re soundly asleep on his arms, his smile turns wider. i love you, he thinks randomly as he watches you sleep, “Goodnight.” he whispers instead out loud, kissing your forehead again and hugging you into his arms.

#suna rintarou #suna rintaro imagine #suna imagines #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro scenarios #suna fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu boyfriend scenarios #haikyuu x y/n

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letsperaltiago · 4 years

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a calm surrender to the rush of day

Jake’s had a few too many beers when he’s sent back home to Amy and his still relatively new son. It’s all good and cute, promise. Peak domestic Peraltiago. This oneshot is based on a prompt on this list.

#98: "I think we should have another"

Read on AO3 here

Amy was fast asleep in their bedroom when the sudden sound of the front door lock clicking and shifting followed by a half-hearted slam jolted her awake. For a very brief second, with her heart galloping in her chest as a result of the shock, Amy was utterly disoriented and the uneasy feeling was definitely not peculiar when you happened to live in a city that was ranked way too high on the Top 10 Most Dangerous Cities in America – a club she did not particularly enjoy being a part of. Although, as fast as it had encased her body to begin with, the shock quickly wore off the second she heard shifting and rumbling paired with a “shit” coming from what she figured out must’ve been the living room.

Jake, she realized, suddenly remembering why he wasn’t currently beside her in bed but rather out with some friends from the academy – or, at least, was.

In an attempt to put the final puzzle pieces in place she leaned over to grab her phone wondering how long he’d out and about for. The time revealed itself across her lock screen picture of Jake, fast asleep on their couch a few days after their son’s arrival with said son resting beneath his hands and on his chest. 3:11 AM – no wonder why she could barely keep her eyes open. There was a second of wondering if she should just turn over, go back to sleep and let Jake come join her whenever he was ready, but something else on the screen caught her eye before she could ultimately decide on doing so: 3 texts from Rosa with the last being from around 30 minutes prior.

Rosa Diaz – 12:39 PM Dude, Jake is horrible. He won’t shut up about you and the baby and for some reason the other guys from the academy seem to be eating it up. I hate it. What have you done to him?

Rosa Diaz – 1:56 AM Nvm. I take it back. He just paid a second round of beers to celebrate, and I quote, “His miracle baby”. Please get pregnant more. Means more free booze.

Rosa Diaz – 2:47 AM Def spoke too soon. He just threw up at my feet. We’re waiting outside the bar for his cab. I’m sending him home to you. Texts me when he gets there. Also: good luck lol. He’s stupid drunk.

Almost as if Jake had read the text as well, as to emphasize its point, Amy could hear him stumble into the bathroom across the hall to, what she chose to believe, grab his toothbrush but instead knocking over the glass holding it generating a loud commotion which tore throughout the entire apartment.

Amy’s head immediately as per instinct shot in the direction of her 3-month old’s crib, which stood against the wall on her side just a few feet away. Apart from the limited amount of Catholic traditions she’d grown up with living with her parents she wasn’t particularly religious, but right then and there she internally prayed that her son, who she’d spent an hour getting back to sleep just 3 hours ago, wasn’t woken up by her father’s drunken circus. She held her breath as a few, way too long seconds went by: no cry. Amy’s chest dropped in relief.

Moments like these were tiny victories that she as a brand new first-time mom held onto for dear life. In general, though she had nothing to compare to, her little boy wasn’t a particularly difficult baby but the past few days had been a bit rough on the little family: rough to the point where Amy had to push Jake out the door earlier that evening because he didn’t want to leave her behind with a fussy baby. But, more than ever before, Amy was confident, telling him it would be a waste for him to stay home and miss out on some fun; he should go out and she’d be fine. He’d ended up going. Although it was borderline against his will with half-worried eyes that Jake had crossed the threshold to exit their apartment, while repeating over and over again that she could and should call him if things turned out to be too much: he’d grab the first cab he saw back home.

Amy loved this considerate and worried side of Jake but it also turned out to be quiet unnecessary that night. Besides the hour from hell of fussiness at midnight, the evening alone with her son had gone by pretty smoothly – she’d actually made quite an enjoyable experience out of it. First of all, right after he’d had left, Amy ate the dinner Jake had prepared for her in advance on the couch with Flynn lying next to her in his little nest, talking and admiring his small sounds and smiles. God, she loved him so much and there was no TV-show or movie in the world that could beat the incredible sight of her son clumsily waving around his tiny legs and arms in his green pajama-onesie. Then, after bathing and changing him, she’d fed him to make sure he was completely ready for bed and by 8 PM she was silently smiling down at, admiring, her very own tiny sleeping human as he dozed off in his crib. Losing track of time was incredibly easy these days, both from the lack of sleep but also the huge amount of love for said little human, but after making sure (for the 32nd time) that Flynn was well asleep Amy had, trusty baby monitor in hand, retreated to the living room. There, with a tiny glass of white wine in hand, she’d managed to finish today’s The Times’ crossword puzzle - something Flynn had interrupted a couple of times that day – before she’d felt an inevitable wave of tiredness creep up on her. Once ready, having gone through her own routine plus checking up on the, to her pride and joy, still sleeping baby, Amy went to bed where she’d slept peacefully until her son had claimed her attention a few hours later. So even though Jake was her favorite person to hang out with, her evening had been great and, all in all, she wouldn’t mind doing it again

Now here she was once again awake although this time it was not her baby causing the distraction from sleeping but rather her apparently very drunk husband stumbling around the bathroom. The fact that he hadn’t been loud enough to wake up their son had probably (for sure) helped, but also, Amy couldn’t be mad at Jake when she’d been the one to basically force him to go out and have fun. So, after giving up on falling back asleep figuring it’d be hopeless with Jake stumbling around the apartment, she instead took matters into her own hands and made her way to the bathroom. Here, to her amusement, the sight of her rather nicely dressed husband, unruly curls spilling onto his forehead, was barely able to stay awake and standing upright while brushing his teeth.

“Hey there,” she leaned her hip against the door frame before crossing her arms in front of her chest adding to it a teasing smile.

“Oh god!” from the way he almost choked on his tooth brush, Jake was obviously startled by her sudden appearance but quickly avoided choking with a sad attempt at smooth recovery by clumsily spitting the toothpaste into the sink getting it all over his lips in the process. “I’m szo szo szorry,” the words tumbled from his mouth much like she imagined he’d tripped and fallen over various furniture and items on his way into the apartment just a few moments ago. “Dridn’t mean tro wake you.”

“Well…” she shrugged nonchalantly not really minding mostly because drunk Jake was a hilarious mess she’d missed during their pregnancy, but also partly because she knew he’d be paying the painful price in the morning. “You did.”

Immediately, as if he was a puppy whose tail had just accidentally been stepped on, Jake’s previously insouciant demeanor switched into a intoxicated version of his famous worried frown. Though the second she could tell panic was forming in his drunkenly fatigued eyes, she was quick to step in and avoid guilting him.

“But it’s okay,” her tired but nonetheless somehow always warm eyes worked their best to comfort him, hip nudging her off the doorframe and into a short journey to where her husband had shifted into a leaning position with his back against the sink, toothbrush desperately hanging from the left side of his mouth. His eyes, though dazed and barely able to stay open, followed her every move towards him closely but he was still startled when she’d come close enough for him to feel her breath on him and had sassily snagged the dangling toothbrush out of his mouth (careful to not hurt him in the process, of course).

“As long as you don’t wake up your son,” she raised an eyebrow daringly only to be met by a shocked expression that told her he still wasn’t entirely over that bold toothbrush-move of hers, and was just barely managing to listen to what she was saying solely because of the mention of Flynn. He knew that the baby was an angel (duh, he was his and Amy’s creation) yet Jake was also very much in touch with reality which was that said son also hadn’t managed to sleep through the night yet (which according to his go-to parenting book Cry Hard was normal). Therefor even drunk Jake also knew that every second his son was asleep was to be handled as carefully as you would a bomb, and the mention of him possibly waking him up was enough to sober him up – or at the very least have him feel like it for a second.

“Luckily,” Amy proceeded, placing her hands on his chest before sliding them up to rest on his shoulders, “you didn’t.”

Paired with a heavy sigh, as if he’d been holding his breath in suspense, she instantly felt his shoulders drop in relief. Needless to say that Amy loved the way her husband cared greatly about his new father-role. Sometimes to the point where Jake, very unnecessarily, would push himself down an endless rabbit hole of doubt, where he, Amy had come to find out relatively early on, could only be calmed down by her ordering him to go lie down and so she could place tiny Flynn on his (incredible) father’s chest. Only then, with his son looking up at him with curious brown eyes or even just being fast asleep, Jake could feel his heart rate slow down significantly and the anxiety fade. His son was here on his chest, tiny heartbeat against his big one and they were both okay. It was love and that was all that mattered.

So yes, Jake’s father-role was very important to both him and her, but for tonight, Amy quickly decided, Jake was allowed to be just drunk-Jake. She had no problem taking full responsibility for Flynn-duty that night, and, even though neither of them kept scores or cared about the unspoken tally, she also knew Jake would make it up to her another night.

“So Flynni iz ztill azleep?” Jake whispered loudly not actually managing to control his voice as intended. His sluggish, wondering eyes reminded Amy of the look on her milk-drunk 3-month old’s face right after a feeding which made it even more obvious that Flynn Peralta was very much her father’s son and would grow up to be an exact copy.

“Yes, Flynni,” she giggled emphasizing the nickname her husband had come up with, “is still very much asleep. But he won’t be for much longer if you don’t quiet down,” her hands slid up Jake’s neck to cradle his jaw, his tooth brush still in her hand.

“Zorry,” he smiled sheepishly actually managing to whisper this time. “You’re ze bestest mom in ze attire world, Amy Zantriago.”

“Hm,” she squinted her eyes jokingly, “maybe I should just put back that tooth brush because now you’re just talking crazy.”

“Nooo,” the whine that escaped her husband was childish as he simultaneously pulled her in for a clumsy, giggly kiss that’d cover her mouth in his toothpaste remains – unsurprisingly, drunk-Jake was not a very precise tooth brusher and had a toddler’s amount of basic skills. “Ze only crayzay here is me. Crayazay ‘bout my WIFE!” unable to control himself he half-yelled out the last word causing Amy to make a quick decision and shove the toothbrush back into his mouth. This, besides yet another surprised and confused expression greeting her, seemed to work and would hopefully keep him quiet till he made it to bed where he could pass out.

“Hush, Peralta,” and he immediately did. He knew his always very convincing wife only had good intentions (which making sure their son stayed asleep ultimately was) and whilst she picked up where he’d left of to finish brushing his teeth for him he, like the inner toddler the alcohol ignited in him, stayed put against the sink.

A few minutes later, still managing to stay somewhat silent (apart from constantly trying to whisper sweet nothings and stupidities into her ear meanwhile she struggled to brush his teeth and wash his face) Amy lead Jake to their bedroom which, for once, was for unsexy reasonz (with a z, yes). Immediately as soon as it was within what his drunk brain considered a safe distance, Jake’s body caved and dropped to the soft welcoming surface of their bed. Amy quickly figured that it was probably for the best and she should take advantage of Jake finally staying still, meaning she carefully started undressing him, and it had seemed that he was passed out right up until she popped the third button of his flannel and his eyes shot open along with a sneaky smirk.

“Amez, Iz tonight zhe night that we become PILFs?”

Amy frowned as she reached the last button and then pushed the flannel off of his torso. “PILFs?” She wordlessly prompted him to sit up as to allow her to remove the flannel entirely only to be followed by his undershirt being lifted off via his head – something she’d done a million times before but most cases being for other reasons.

“Parentz I’d Like To Frick,” he smiled in appreciation at his own genius invention before stealing a kiss when Amy happened to be close enough to reach by simply leaning in a bit. It did earn him a small giggle like he wished but then also a light shove back.

“Stop that and help me instead, would you?” She was far from mad at him which he could tell from the way she couldn’t keep an entirely straight face but on the other side of things Amy clearly wasn’t having the easiest time undressing her full grown husband either. Suddenly the task that was changing Flynn 7 times a day was put into a quite interesting perspective: a perspective she didn’t necessarily need.

And so, feeling that his wife was doing all the hard work, he helped. It might’ve taken him 5 minutes to pop open and zip down his jeans, but he succeeded and it was with way too much pride that he kicked his jeans off in a madman-ninja manner which resulted in them flying across the room to touchdown by the door. Normally Amy would demand he put them in the laundry bin but for once she couldn’t care less. The pants being off itself was a great victory.

“Nicely done, babe,” she joked trying to ignore the fact that 3 simple tasks had taken them almost 40 minutes by now, prompting her to playfully throw his night shirt in way so it landed on his head. “Now put that on and you’re good to pass out for the night.”

She walked back over to her side of the bed, throwing in a glance at Flynn in his crib to make sure he was still well and asleep, before crawling back under the covers and pushing the part on Jake’s side aside to invite him in.

It was a matter of seconds before he dropped into place but instead of passing out immediately as Amy had expected him to, her husband shuffled across the bed’s invisible center line wordlessly asking for snuggles that Amy, of course, couldn’t decline. She loved that Jake went out and had some fun by himself, although, at the end of the day, nothing would ever beat having him home with her – even if it meant dealing with an all at once incapable and horny man child.

So, by all means, she lifted her arm to welcome him to make himself at home under it, felt his head moving to on top of her chest, before she put it back down in a soft grip around his shoulders. His free arm would then soon enough wrap around her middle earning him a soft peck to the forehead.

“I love you, Amz,” he mumbled tiredly into her shirt.

“I love you too, Jake,” she smiled leaning her cheek against where she’d just planted the kiss.

“And I love our baby. Zo much. I mizzed him all ze night,” he mumbled on the verge of falling asleep.

And while she always did expect it these days, right then and there when she very honestly in the moment least did expect it, a loud cry as if scripted, tore through the darkness of their bedroom. A small sigh escaped her body although she was couldn’t help but smile at the irony of the situation.

“… Sounds like he missed you too, babe.”

“Oh no,” Jake whined basically imitating Flynn to a point where it was scary as Amy scooted out from his snuggle and the newfound warmth of their bed. “I woke him up. I’m zo zo sorry.”

In the meantime Amy had made her way to the crib.

“You didn’t wake him up, honey,” she made sure to reassure Jake of the fact before picking up the tiny crying figure before promptly looking at the time on her night stand, where her suspicion was immediately proved to be right. “It’s 4 AM: he’s just hungry.”

Not many things in this world were sure or certain, but if there was one thing that was then it was definitely Amy’s knowledge when it came to her son’s schedule. Yes, Jake got up with Flynn just as frequently as she did, but contrary to her, Jake didn’t take note of the time and just did what his son demanded without interest in cracking the code to their baby’s life-pattern: as long as he got to care for him and make him happy again, the logistics were somewhat irrelevant to Jake.

“You sure?” he complained nervously questioning his wife as she sat back down in bed with Flynn cradled to her chest.

“Yes, completely.”

With her always being right and all, Jake settled for accepting his wife’s statement quieting down to take in the sight of their son fumbling to find where his mother had lifted up her shirt in order to feed him. Seconds later, like the peace that followed after a huge sky-cracking thunderstorm, silence settled upon the family of three letting the two adult of said family know that Flynn had once again worked out how to still his hunger. Apart from the very faint sounds of suckling, the occasional little pop followed by a wail when he’d lose his mouthful and complain until Amy managed to help him back on track, idyllic silence of the night wrapped up the apartment as if Jake had never interrupted it just an hour prior.

It was in moments like these where Jake became untouchable, completely disregarding any physical or mental state he might be in, and simply gave in to soaking in the faultless felicity parenthood provided him with. He’d never been anything but happy with Amy but this life he’d been living for 3 months now was even better and beyond any imaginable expectations he’d had. Flynn, though being the one who was completely dependent on his father’s care, had given Jake life a renewed meaning he hadn’t known or felt close to before. A meaning he’d originally been so afraid of even considering before he met Amy but had come to realize he wanted with her and only her.

He wanted 4 AM cries. He wanted the sight of Amy, depending on what her energy level was, either dozing off to or actively admiring their son latching onto her swelled chest as he suckled on it. He wanted the rush of pride every time Flynn made a new sound even if it was simply bringing into existence a new pitch when he squealed or whimpered. Jake wanted all and everything, big and small, as long as it was with them.

So of course, as soon as Flynn was placed stomach down on Amy’s chest after being done eating and burped, earning himself a sweet praise when he succeeded, Jake was back to snuggling into his wife’s side. There was no minding sharing her chest with the tiny human as it provided Jake with the perfect combination of cuddling with his wife and the incredible sight of their stupefying son slipping back into a peaceful state of sleepy satisfaction.

“He’s sro prerfect, Amy.”

“I know, babe,” with a hand safely cradling and stroking the back of Flynn’s decently hairy head she mumbled her reply obviously in the early stages of dozing off herself. The other hand, this arm having returned to its spot around Jake, was resting against her husband’s back stroking it in a synchronized motion.

“Like, he’z like getting ze one exact toy you wanted ze mostest in your Happy Meal as a child.”

She would laugh out loud at his comparison, finding it incredibly endearing, but she was by then too exhausted and only managed to form a tired smile – also the laughing would cause her chest and then automatically Flynn to quiver which she was not about to dare.

“He really is,” she mumbled.

“I think we shrould have anozer.”

It was easy to tell that the comment was partly genuine and sweet but also partly… intoxicated. Though Amy didn’t doubt the fact that Jake wouldn’t mind more children, she also didn’t doubt the fact that he definitely wouldn’t remember this conversation when he woke up some hours later with a hammering headache and zombie-like state of mind.

“I think I have enough on my hands with you two.”

Yes, she did see them having at least two kids but one newborn was definitely more than enough at the moment, plus they had plenty of time to consider further additions to the family once Flynn would be older and Jake not completely wasted. Although it was nice to hear some truth about his inner thoughts spill from her drunk husband, there was no doubt in her mind that there was no need to hurry. They would get there eventually and for now they were already so very happy.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the feeling of Jake’s lips planting a soft, half-sloppy kiss to, first, their son’s head, then, then her neck. Then small movements beneath her hand on Flynn was next, quickly peaking her curiosity and winning over her exhaustion then forcing herself to open her eyes. Immediately feeling glad she did so because she was met by the most heartwarming sight of Jake carefully caressing Flynn’s tiny feet.

“We’re gunna make zo many perfect bebiez, Amy Trivago. Zo many. Like zis one.”

“I’m sure of it, babe,” she gave into one last tired chuckle hoping agreeing would give him the peace he needed to fall asleep. And besides the fact his fingers continuously toyed with the tiny feet, Jake seemed fast asleep a few moments later leaving Amy to soak in the moment, fighting to stay awake just a few more minutes to enjoy how incredibly lucky she was.

There was indeed nothing better than feeling her two favorite boys’ heartbeats against her skin as she herself dove into a deep sleep.

#i'm pretty pleased with this one #both cute and fluffy #domestic peraltiago for days #peraltiago #jake x amy #peraltiago fanfic #jake and amy #jake peralta #amy santiago #baby peraltiago #fanfiction #b99 #Brooklyn Nine-Nine

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moonlightstars16 · 4 years

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I know it's a lot but... These numbers are from prompt #9 and I feel like 1, 2, 3, 13, 23, 26, 40, and 46 go together very well... Please can you do at least some of those numbers? 😅

Action: 35. "They jump into your car, breathless, and tell you to keep driving"

Sentence(s): 1. “Stop moving!”, 2. “I’m worried about you.”, 3. “What happened to you?”, 13. “I’m not a child!”, 23.“I’ve got your back.”, 26.“I’m going back to bed.”, 40.“Hey, are you still awake?”, 46.“Hold me just a little longer.”

This will be HILARIOUS (well I’ll try to at least)!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You know it’s simple. You get in your car, drive to a gas station, get a drink then leave right? WRONG! Connie was just about to leave when the passenger door swung wide open and her boyfriend scrambled to the seat.

“DRIVE!” He said, his shield blocking that side of her car. Rolling her eyes, mindset to fighting mode she complied. When it came to gem issues, traffic and driving laws we’re slightly bent. And when it came to Steven, they were almost non existent. Still this was becoming more and more annoying.

“What did you do now?”

“I accidentally let loose a gem experiment from little Homeschool.” Normally people would freak out even more so, but....

“Steven!”

“What it’s non threatening to humans!”

“THIS IS THE FOURTH TIME THIS MONTH!” She paused watching him fiddle with the seat belt. “And stop moving so much! It’s really difficult to keep this car steady with the ground shaking.” He sighed while finally calming down a bit.

“Hey it’s not like I want to chase after experiments.”

“Well I think it’s time to temporarily shut down that lab until these get under control.” Taking in a deep breath, Connie sharply turned a corner. “What’s this one’s story?”

“Corrupted gem shard meets... fire.”

“FIRE?!”

“Hey! At least it’s not like-... yeah you’re right it’s bad. I know these corrupted gem shards need to find peace, like the Cluster. But this one...seemed to have a mind of it’s own. Like the shattered piece was a fresh cut gem. I don’t know....”

“I understand Steven, you want to help. It’s what I love about you....but... FIRE?! HELLO?!”

“Oh well Peridot thought it was a good idea to see how it reacted to different elements. And well it took to it too much.... did I mention it reformed around it.. well loosely reformed. BUT it’s not big! Normal gem sized!”

“Oh that I can see.” Connie adjusted her review mirror to see the on fire gem shard. Almost as tall as an Amethyst. Sighing she quickly made her way towards the Beach City Boardwalk. “Get ready to bubble the car... and please don’t let it sink!”

“Right!” They lead the gem to the ocean. Steven bubbled the car just in time and used his newly found strength powers to keep it afloat. It’s a little heavier than a bolder but nothing he couldn’t handle. The corrupted gem sank to the ocean floor. Once the car was safely back on the shore, Steven and Connie raced and swam to find the poofed shard. Before the tide took it way deep into the ocean.

A few hours passed. Connie had showered and changed at the temple because of the messed up and alge covered hair. Since she took up sword training, a pre packed emergency bag was important. Especially for today. Walking out she sighed and sat on the couch.

“I’m worried about you, sometimes.” She sighed while putting her dirty clothes into a smaller bag before putting that in her emergency bag. Steven came downstairs and began making dinner for them both.

“I know, I really do need to be more careful.” While setting down the ingredients, he sighed and looked over at her. “I’m really sorry for all the danger I seem to put you in.” Connie rolled her eyes and walked over to the opposite side of the kitchen counter.

“Hey, jam buds stick together.”

“Connie I know you mean well but I can’t always get you into trouble like this.”

“I’m not a child Steven! I can take care of myself. And while you’re right about being careful running into danger, we made a promise. No matter what I’m there to be by your side to defend.”

“I know you can, I don’t doubt that. But most of that is in the past now, we don’t need to-”

“Wait hold on! are you saying that we shouldn’t keep defending each other? To stop keeping our promise because the war is over?!”

“YES! Because there is no reason to be needlessly thrown into danger when we can avoid it! The war is over and we did our job.” He said as a tense silence fell between them.

“You really think that is what our promise is all about?” She whispered as a wave of shock and pain flared in her expression.

“I mean.... isn’t it?” He noticed the tears brimming her eyes and immediately felt in his gut something was off.

“What happened to you?” She spoke before running upstairs to the balcony. Wiping away the tears in her eyes. She was beyond happy to be in a relationship with him. But now.... ‘Was that all this promise ever was? Just as to fight and defend?...’ Arms folded on the railing and head down as she tried to stop the tears from spilling

Steven finished making dinner before joining her outside. No words were spoken as he walked up behind and wrapped his arms around her. Connie soon molded her body against his. Turning around and pressing her head on his chest.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overreact like that.”

“In fairness I didn’t explain myself to well.” He sighed before gently placing his hand under her chin, encouraging her to look up. Brushing away the tears staining her face as she did so. “Of course the promise means more to me than just defending here and there.I do want to still keep it. I love you Connie, I want to be by your side always. I hope that still is true for you.”

“Of course it is Steven.” She spoke before kissing him on the lips briefly. Then wrapping her arms around his neck. They stood there embracing each other for a few minutes. Though no words were spoken, just being with each other like this said it all. Like they were sorry, "I’ve got your back”, etc. Soon they went downstairs to eat pizza, drink soda (ice cream later) and watch a comedic movie in the living room.

“Connie are your parents out of town?” she nodded, having already gotten the ‘check-in’ call earlier. They had slept in the same house before. But always in separate bedrooms. After movie number two, they both got ready for bed and went to there sleeping arrangements. Sometime later, Steven went downstairs to get a glass of water. Noticing his beloved girlfriend was stirring a bit. Walking over he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, are you still awake?” a slight groan came from her as she turned to face him.

“I can’t sleep” Sometimes this would happen. It wasn’t because of any health issues, but after being on edge a lot like she was with all the gem stuff, it was hard to return to a normal sleep schedule. Steven knew this, gently picked her up, cradling her slightly and laid down on the couch with her in his arms. Rubbing her back slightly as she listened to his heartbeat. That always seemed to do the trick. After awhile Steven began to feel the fatigue.

“I’m going back to bed.” he whispered before feeling her shake her head a tad and clung to him tighter. Connie really did like being in his arms. Sometimes it made her blush while other times, helped her be more calm just knowing he was alive and right there. For this moment was one of those times.

“Hold me just a little longer...please.” In a sense Steven understood that, he relished the feeling of her breathing in an out, sleeping peacefully and feeling her own heartbeat as well. Knowing she was safe, made him feel more at ease. Smiling he clung a bit tighter and stroked her hair.

“Alright” In the end, they had stayed like that all night. Sleeping peacefully in each others embrace, loving each other and enjoyed just being together.

#steven universe #steven universe future #steven and connie #connverse #au #connie maheswaran #connverse one shot #fluff #writing prompts

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shsldepressedlesbian · 5 years

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Jesus Christ please tell me mORE about these characters I only know three things about them but I’m invested

hahhshahha im glad people wanna hear about them,, ok here we go, character info dump:

like i mentioned in a previous ask, the characters were created using sets of nine images, and thus they went through a certain degree of changes, though not all of them

if anyone wants to see me make the fic,, then i just might do it-

heres funfacts about the characters, cause as i noted before, i lovv them all very much:

Yuuki Mori, Ultimate Wedding Planner

Likes: bubblegum, streamers

Dislikes: wooly sweaters, dodgeball

D.O.B: October 12

Height: 5'1"

- the protag girl,,

- for the most part, a very friendly and hyperactive gurl

- always carries around bubblegum with her

- her interesting in wedding planning stems from her grandmothers encouragement, as well as having many relatives, and thus shes attended a lot of weddings in her life

- neat freak

- surprisingly athletic

- social!! but shes a little judgemental of people

- would never intentionally insult anyone outloud

- incredibly persistent

- also has a very sharp memory and eye due to her job as a wedding planner, which helps with investigating

- avoids conflict if she can

- not hard to convince

- trans and bi, like all dangan protags are suppose to be

- smells like bubblegum flavored cake and lavender

Emica Abiko, Ultimate Student Council

Likes: blank paper, lavender

Dislikes: deadlines in general, decaf

D.O.B: May 25

Height: 5'5"

- the mom friend

- tries to be as friendly as possible but shes this close to snapping

- is surviving on pure will and caffeine

- orderly

- has a strong sense of responsibility and leadership

- her dad is actually the principal of the school, which is the whole reason why shes student president in the first place. because of this, she doesnt really believe she deserves a spot in the school

- ambivert

- 'takahashi PLEASE put that down-'

- smells like vanilla coffee and stress

Arata Abe, Ultimate Historian

Likes: globes, sunshine

Dislikes: tiny dogs, flat earthers

D.O.B: June 14

Height: 5'7"

- a classy man

- very curious

- and nosey

- writes everything down in his trusty notebook, which helps with investigations

- doesnt just study japanese history. hes interested in the past of almost all countries

- very neutral on almost everything, doesnt have many opinions of his own

- but one thing he does have a strong opinion on is hating hetalia (who doesnt?)

- dresses like a victorian

- acts like he hasnt had a social interaction with a human being in years

- smells like old books and cats

Mitsuo Nakashima, Ultimate ???

Likes: dark rooms, wifi

Dislikes: confusing websites, superstitions

D.O.B: December 25

Height: 5’6”

- has not slept in a week but its fine

- very insistent on keeping secrets

- not even his classmates know who he or his talent is

- chooses not to tell anyone his talent (for some reason)

- does not believe in luck. at all

- for a tired guy who has no sense of left or right, hes pretty cocky

- probably has a tragic backstory

- spends most time locked in a dark room

- will fall asleep in a random hallway

- it might be the fatigue and coffee talking, but hes surprisingly intelligent

- smells like dirty laundry and ramen

Asuka Ando, Ultimate Student Council Treasurer

Likes: jewelry, mythology

Dislikes: delinquents, air horns

D.O.B: January 11

Height: 5’8”

- that one blonde chick in every slasher

- very cocky because of her position

- convincing and manipulative

- also good with management as you would expect from a treasurer

- was a math whiz in middle school

- despite acting in control, shes very reliant on emica telling her what to do

- hides behind bigger people

- collector of jewelry

- smells like chokingly sweet perfume and bleach

Manabu Ueda, Ultimate Astrogeologist

Likes: tea, stargazing

Dislikes: broken glass, slime

D.O.B: October 25

Height: 5’8”

- a polite boi, admirable

- more or less on the quiet side, tho he can and does step in to say stuff, and he does enjoy conversation

- his talent is something he grew from his own ambitions, but rather, it was more of a family line thing. he still does enjoy astrogeology though, which is why he chose to continue it even when he got a chance to study something different

- as you would expect from the ultimate astrogeologist, he contains many facts about space hes willing to share

- compliments others pretty often if we’re being real here, overall more of an optimistic realist

- however, even then, hes more of a ‘act first ask questions later’ type of guy as well

- a bit on the vain side?? very proud of his looks

- is very attracted to women who can beat him up-

- smells like expensive perfume and moondust

Seiichi Miyamoto, Ultimate Slam Poet

Likes: ink, protests

Dislikes: alcohol, peer pressure

D.O.B: August 26

Height: 5’5”

- best boy

- despite having the public image of a very loud and passionate young man, in person hes a lot more quiet and polite

- very good with voice shifting

- pulls at his tie when hes nervous; because of this, its always loose around his neck

- was the rep of his class

- slam poetry is a form of venting for him

- has strong opinions

- cares more about others health then his own

- not shy, just very nervous

- smells like nature and scented markers

Tamotsu Fujimoto, Ultimate Tomb Guide

Likes: sand, the heat

Dislikes: slippery ice, pens

D.O.B: November 19

Height: 6’4”

- the dad friend

- has known masa since they were kids(they met in a hospital), and thus they are very close friends

- mature but also laid back

- gives good hugs

- muscular

- wasnt actually born in japan, but grew up in it for the most part

- his parents were archaeologists, and they traveled alot. he was always particularly interested in the history of egypt, rather than becoming an archaeologist like his parents originally wanted him to be

- strong sense of justice

- usually believes in redemption

- acts as a form of transportation for the others when their tired, especially masa and satoru

- smells like tropical drinks and stuffy places

Kamiko Yamasaki, Ultimate Tapestry Seamstress

Likes: luck charms, quiet

Dislikes: being the main subject of attention, jumpscares

D.O.B: March 13

Height: 5’3”

- babey

- grew up in a superstitious household

- believes that she has terrible luck and uses everything bad that has ever happened to her as proof

- because of her supposed bad luck, she spent a lot of time locked in her house, sewing tapestries as a way of keeping busy, before being invited to sailing integrity

- has a good eye and knowledge of fabrics

- has a whole collection of sunhats. sadly, she only brought two different ones for the cruise trip(not like she was expecting more than a weeks stay hhshshs)

- has a large family

- has many bandaids on her fingers due to accidentally pricking herself on sewing needles multiple times

- interested in folklore

- very apologetic

- has a low sense of self esteem

- because of her ‘bad luck’, she blames a lot of bad stuff on herself, even if it doesnt even involve her

- sensitive

- grows quickly attached to others

- likes to stay close to anything that she believes would bring her ‘good luck’

- smells like sunflowers and dirt

Kenta Inoue, Ultimate Parkourer

Likes: sneakers, tetris

Dislikes: being told what to do, stuck up people

D.O.B: February 17

Height: 6’3”

- angrey boy

- incredibly short tempered

- no one remembers seeing him ever smile

- healthy parent relationships? whats that??

- will stomp curb you

- easy to get flustered up, though he wouldnt admit it

- will not stop until hes defied gravity

- defining feature is his allstar sneakers

- smells like varying cologne and sexual frustration

Chieko Endo, Ultimate Chemist

Likes: friendly gambling, working out

Dislikes: romance stories, people coming up from behind her

D.O.B: January 2

Height: 6’0”

- the intelligent one

- serious and calm, keeps a clear head

- a true neutral

- has mastered the art of poker faces

- apathetic

- has a strong dislike of romantic things

- sharp minded

- surprisingly agile and athletic

- can recite the periodic table from the top of her head

- is always looking above the tip of her glasses

- no one: chieko: *anime glasses gleam*

- chieko, to seiichi: ‘ah, so your the twink’

- so edge, such cool

- smells like roses and melted wax

Masa Shibata, Ultimate Dream Interpreter

Likes: fiction, horoscopes

Dislikes: spiky rocks, flashlights

D.O.B: December 31

Height: 5’11”

- mythic bab

- tries to act all mysterious and wise but sometimes accidently slips and reveals she really is just a normal teenager who spends way too much time on tumblr

- has known tamotsu since they were kids(they met in a hospital), and thus they are very close friends

- actually spent a lot of time in the hospital as a kid

- very blunt

- not good with human emotions at ALL

- not good at picturing stuff, will draw and whatever ends up on the page will -genuinely either impress or surprise her

- a little lazy if you will

- very interested in horoscopes

- holds grudges

- tamotsu translates her weird way of speaking a lot

- knows like fifty ways to get to sleep immediately

- instead of saying ‘good morning’, she asks ‘how was your dreams?’ to people

- keeps a dream journal, not for herself, but for everyone else

- smells like clean warm laundry and sheep

Fumiko Ogawa, Ultimate Lucky Student (or Blackjack Player)

Likes: the color red, praise

Dislikes: trivia facts, strip poker

D.O.B: July 3

Height: 5’9”

- has more of a gambler aura rather then a lucky student aura

- very proud of herself

- soaks up praise and compliments like a sponge

- a family girl, especially looks up to her older brother

- an attention seeker

- knows how to get what she wants

- doesnt really like the title of ultimate lucky student which is why she goes by ultimate blackjack player

- is actually not even a fan of talent schools??

- dresses like a 1940s stage dancer

- smells like raspberries and cash

Kohaku Ono, Ultimate Murder Mystery Novelist

Likes: horror movies, plot twists

Dislikes: overdone tropes, being looked up to

D.O.B: May 9

Height: 6'3"

- a polite bab

- very honest

- handy in investigating due to their knowledge and imagination

- has very low self esteem

- considers themself a borderline 'villan', despite doing their hardest to be nice to everyone

- warns everyone about themself, but characters who were in the same class as them have just gotten use to it

- very uncomfortable with praise and being called a 'role model'

- helps others to their best ability

- compares many situations to varying books, including their own

- unintentionally ominous

- writes using a typewriter rather then a computer or laptop

- smells like peppermint and typewriter ink

Aika Kouki, Ultimate Vintage Collector

Likes: buttons, dial up phones

Dislikes: being ignored, boredom

D.O.B: August 10

Height: 5'5"

- would and will add 'chan' to the end of everyones names

- grew up in a family that was very about keeping things 'old fashioned'

- resents the term 'boomer'

- talks like a 2000s teen

- very energetic and cheerful

- uses old fashioned slang often

- 'thats wack, brosiki'

- expresses interest in being other people

- very praising of others, often talking how 'jealous' she is of them

- overall very positive

- she and yuuki have known each other since grade school, even though they arent paticularly super close friends

- watched a lot of sailor moon as a kid

- modern tech impresses her more then it should

- smells like 1950 perfume and the outdoors

Satoru Takahashi, Ultimate Marine Biologist

Likes: sea otters, the water

Dislikes: his height, fish nets

D.O.B: December 5

Height: 4'8"

- its the tiny boi

- would unironically threaten your kneecaps

- is very sad about not seeing any marine animals during their cruise

- is insecure about his height but wont admit it

- often asks taller, stronger people to carry him on their shoulders(kenta refuses, but tamotsu is fine with it)

- very bold

- says whatever comes to his mind

- it started out as a joke, but he probably has a tentacle kink-

- adventurous young lad

- usually very friendly, but not hesitant to call out what he feels is bullshit

- calls kenta, mitsuo, and chieko 'edgelords'

- spaces out a lot

- smells like salt water and wet fur

Usagi Shimizu, Ultimate Runaway/Explorer

Likes: the forest, music

Dislikes: closed in spaces, car lights

D.O.B: September 1

Height: 5'4"

- very quiet

- has had many foster parents

- technically, shes listed as the ultimate explorer in the academy, but everyone refers to her talent as 'ultimate runaway' due to her reputation

- shy, but can be loud if she wants to

- surprisingly smart when asked questions

- usually calm, but it isnt hard to get her riled up

- everyone expects her to be some sort of delinquent due to her history of running away from her many homes, but really shes basically the opposite

- usually goes with whatever everyone agrees to

- takes many pictures of nature, and posts them to social media

- blushy

- smells like bushes and granola bars

#cruise to despair

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followingfallout4 · 6 years

Text

Male companions react to Sole accidentally attacking them in their sleep due to PTSD

AN: I can definitely do this, yes. Of course. But considering PTSD is not restricted purely to a warzone - and because several of the events going on in FO4 could potentially cause ptsd - I feel this could work for a F!Sole too so I made this one for both genders. Hope that’s okay. This took... a long time to make because I wanted to do it justice to whichever way I could. Hope I did. To anyone suffering from PTSD; your demons do not define you and they won’t break you. You’re stronger than they are. You lived through them once, you can do so again until they realise they’re fighting a losing battle. (Still working on the one for the girls.) Intro: Screaming and yelling jolted him awake. He instinctively reached for the firearm next to him when he noticed Sole was the one bringing the noise, as well as twisting and turning. As they touched Sole’s arm, they got punched in the face and as Sole jolted awake they sprung on on top of him, hands on his throat. “YOU WON’T TAKE ME DOWN! GO AWAY!” Synth!Codsworth “Mum/Sir... ” Codsworth’s exhasparated voice was enough to snap them back to reality from a confused, dazed state. Sole backed away, looking at their hands in shock. Codsworth knew this. Had seen what to do. “Keep calm, look around the room, describe what you see.” “ I see... a chair and a metal wall and I... I’m so sorry... I didn’t want to...” Sole leaned against the wall and let themself slid down it. “The dreams get... really bad sometimes.” Codsworth rubbed over his throat, he still had to get used to being quite so physically vulnerable. Codworth whispered. “ It’s okay... it’s okay. I’m okay.” Sole shook their head “ I’m not. Clearly. Damnit how hard can it be to forget something you don’t want to remember?” “ Mum/Sir, I am fully aware of the horrible things that happened. Please... remember that you are not alone. I... do not understand how it feels but I will never judge you.” Tears were running down Sole’s face. It broke his heart to see them in this state. “ I am facing this alone though. I don’t want to burden anyone with what I”ve seen... heard... But I didn’t imagine I would be a danger to you. What if I hadn’t woken up so easily, huh?” Codsworth came closer, eyes set on sole and grabbing their hand. “I am not hurt. No hard feelings.” Sole shook their head; “ Do you have any idea what it’s like trying to avoid any possible triggers, and even when you manage having to deal with that you may wake up with your hands on your friend’s throat? I feel like I’m going insane sometimes.” “ I cannot say I can imagine such a dreadful thing but I certainly never considered you to be ‘insane’. Could a doctor help? Perhaps someone can give you some sort of medicine to counter these negative feelings? However this remains your choice of course...“ “ Except these aren’t just negative feelings; they’re flashbacks and stress and feeling like I can’t breathe all over again.“ “ Medicine is still a marvel. And surely, you cannot be the only one. Or speaking with likeminded souls might help. I cannot and will not force your hand but... whatever you do I will gladly listen. And I am certain others will do, perhaps people who do understand what it feels like.”

Danse Danse was physically strong enough to just throw Sole on their back again and grabbed their wrists. “ Soldier, whatever you think is happening it is not real. I repeat this is not real. I am no threat!” Sole had a look of terror on their face, making Danse realize that Sole had snapped out of it relatively fast. He immediately backed off. Last thing he wanted to do was traumatise them by touching them and making them feel trapped. Sole kept laying on the floor. “ I couldn’t... It all just came back to me.“ “ Slow breaths, easy. “ Sole started breathing more deeply and slowly. “What did?” “ Everything.” “ Do you want to talk about it, soldier? ?” “ No. I don’t want to relive it again. Please don’t ... ask me to.” “ You have witnessed, lived even, a fair share of horrors, have seen the wreckage of society. Are you certain you do not have PTSD? It is a...” “ I know what it is, Danse. And I am fairly sure that I have it, yes.” “ It is of vital importance you tell me any triggers you have noticed, so I can perhaps help safeguard you from them.” “ You couldn’t if you tried. Not in this kind of world. And again, please don’t ask, Danse. “ Danse pulled Sole to their feet and held on to them, it had worked with Haylen, perhaps it worked with them. Temporarily. “ Perhaps you ought to stay away from battle for a while, avoid being faced with... “ Sole shook their head. “ I can’t just... turn away from people who need me.” Danse put his finger under their chin and tilted Sole’s head so they were looking straight at him. “ I recruited you. I know you want to help and you did. I owe you one. The Brotherhood and the commonwealth as a whole do. I am but one of the many people who owe you their lives. Their future. You are one of the strongest people i know, you can beat this demon. But perhaps now you need to look after yourself first. At least allow me to anticipate your triggers. You are not the first soldier to have this kind of trauma, some Brothers and Sisters have found ways to lessen the symptoms through medicine, support groups,... You are not alone. Soldier... Sole... You don’t need to battle this alone.”

Deacon “ S... Sole... I... need... air...” They let go instantly, backing away from Deacon fast. Deacon stated coughing. “ Damn Sole, I mean I’m not gonna judge if you’re into that kinda thing but you should at least give me fair warning.” He was rubbing with his hand over his throat when he noticed the look of sheer horror on Sole’s face. “ I’m... I’m so sorry Deacon I...” “ Okay, well, calm down. Sit down. Take a breath. So what’s going on?” “ I have been battling with PTSD and... sometimes at night... I relive some of my worst memories. It comes back in flashes.” Deacon took a deep breath and put his arm over their shoulder. “ Hey, we’re still good. Happy you’re not a synth with a killswitch. I mean, you hear those campfire horror stories...” he winked at Sole but they were still frozen in place. Deacon got a bit closer to them. “ Hey... but seriously though you should talk to some people at the railroad, we can probably help you with that somehow. “ “ I don’t want people to think I can’t do this. I can’t just sit idly by because I can’t take it. It... would make matters worse. Or what if they kick me out?” Deacon chuckled; “They won’t kick you out. You’re a goddamn revelation, we’ve never been so efficient before. Besides, Des may seem a liiittle bit too focused on ‘the cause’ but deep down she cares. Pinky swear. “ Deacon paused for a second before scraping his throat and continuing. “And hey, if you lose their favour...” Sole flinched at the thought. Deacon scooted a little closer and made eye contact. “Well, if you lose them, you’ve always got me.” “ You would stay if the Railroad kicked me out? Seriously?” “ What can I say, I’ve gotten used to following you around like an sarcastic puppy. Once a murder bunny, always a murder bunny. You’re stuck with me now. I ain’t going anywhere. But eh... any idea what I can do to help? Now or if this happens again?”

Nick

Nick grabbed Sole’s wrists and pushed them back. “HEY! CUT IT OUT WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!” Sole shook their head and scrambled backwards until they hit a wall. “ Those dreams they’re... They just won’t stop. I thought they were gone but...” Nick instantly realised he had handled this all wrong. He had seen this before, when you’re a detective a lot of people come your way. Some good, some bad, some ugly, but all with a story to tell and some stories come with trauma. He shouldn’t have yelled. “ Do you want to talk about it?” “ Not... right now. It’s too... fresh.” Sole shuddered and still took short, ragged breaths. “ Okay, just keep breathing all right? Inhale and exhale deeply. Look around. You’re not there anymore wherever there is. It was not real.” Nick avoided sudden movements and sat down slowly, at eye-height with Sole. “Whenever you do want to talk about it... I’m a pretty good listener if I say so myself. Any idea what triggered it?” “ You know what this is too then?” “ Yeah. Seen a lot of things in the years you were... not with me yet.” “ Probably the fatigued. I’m not sure. I thought if I avoided... certain things. Perhaps...” “ Yeah, not entirely how that works kid. Whenever you’re ready... please tell me what you know can trigger this and what you know does or does not help? I’m here to help you. Ain’t going anywhere. “ “ How am I ever going to function with this... crap. It’s not going away is it?” “ Says who, huh? If anyone can beat this it’s you. You’ve managed to save half the goddamn commonwealth, you can save yourself too. And if you don’t I sure as hell intend to. “ “ How do you suggest I do that?” Sole was calmer but had their hands in their hair. “ You do better today than you did yesterday. You make plans for the future because you have one, those things in your past are stuck there. And we discuss a game plan. We figure out what helps. Whenever you’re ready.” Sole nodded slowly. “Thanks for ... just thank you.” “ Hey just remember I’ve got your back. “

Hancock Hancock startled and grabbed Sole’s wrists. “What... the... hell...” He managed to get Sole’s hands off of him and pushed them away. Sole had snapped out of it and stared at their hands, breathing rapidly. “ If you wanted to get my attention there are better ways.” Hancock approached them and wanted to touch their shoulder. Sole just flinched and backed up against a wall. “ Ok, got it, no touching. Deeeep breaths. In and out. There you go.” Sole looked up a him, calmed down a little. “ Care to tell me what that was about?” Sole shook their head. “ Okay, that’s fine. “ “ I should though. I attacked you, you deserve an explanation.” “ And you deserve better than a man with rotting flesh as a companion but here I am.” “ That’s not true. You’re the best damn thing that could’ve happened to me. Let’s just say I’ve seen some tragic things. They left a mark. I’m damaged goods Hancock. “ “ Nah, you’re not. You’re more than goods and just a little cracked, nothing you can’t mend with time. Besides, tragically wounded and damaged by demons they can’t escape. That sounds a lot like me. And you’ve been my friend through aaall of the bullshit. “ “ You’ve never attacked me.” “ You’ve made me feel alive. And hey, not the first time I’ve gotten hands on my throat in a bed. Just prefer that to happen under different circumstances. Ya know, buy me a drink first, set the mood a little, get some candles... less vicious.” Sole smiled a little. A weak smile, supressed by the shivers down their spine. “ You’re trying to distract me.” “ And doing a terrible job of it if ya noticed. Look... you once told me ‘all that matters is what you do from here on out’. All I know is that if I hadn’t taken up with you I’d probably be in a gutter somewhere, getting gnawed on by Radroaches. I’m not gonna let you deal with this alone because you’ve got some demons of your own. You helped me kill mine, let me help kill yours.” “ Yours were killable.” “ So are yours. You can take down anything. And we’re gonna figure out how to deal with this. Speak to some medics, talk to some people. I’m a major ya know. I know plenty of people in high and low places. Well, mainly low places but ya catch my drift.” Sole looked up at him. “ You’re not... gonna cut your losses?” “ Are you kidding me? Hell no. you know me; Of the people, for the people! But between you and me... a little bit more for you than for ‘the people’.”

MacCready MacCready instinctively gerabbed the inside’s of Sole’s elbows and bent them inwards so they lost their grip on him and fell on top of him instead. Taking a deep breath he pushed them off of him and got back, gun at the ready but not aimed at them. “I’m on your side! What the hell are you doing?” He then noticed how confused and tormented Sole looked, nothing like usual. Not at all in control, not calm or collected but panicking and hyperventilating. He looked for the plastic bag he’d been carrying along and told them to breathe into it, as deeply as they could. Sole’s ragged breaths became calmer, longer. But their firsts were still clenched, fingernails digging into their skin. He reached for their hand but they pulled it back. “Okay, calm down. Can I touch your hands? I promise I won’t hurt you. “ He put away his gun. Sole allowed him to grab their hands. “Squeeze into those if you have to Don’t do that. ..What was that?” Sole shook their head. “ I don’t want to say.” “ Well, I don’t know how to help you help me tell you something that wuold help you if I don’t know it. Okay, that may have been a bit much but you understand what I’m getting at right?” Sole loked down. “That was...a memory. One I wanted to forget.” MacCready’s eyes got softer and he sat down next to Sole.Still keeping his distance. He scraped his throat. “Do you know your triggers?” “ Some. Obviously not all of them.” There were tears streaming down Sole’s face now but they stil looked angry. “ Do you always fight them... physically?” “ The anger is better than what comes after to me. But... I usually work it out differently. Punch an inanimate object, I don’t know. Not... not someone I care about anyway.” “ Hm. You could... get treatment for that. Or maybe talk to someone who had it. Or had it... like me.” Sole’s eyes found his. MacCready inhaled deeply before answering her inquisitive look. “I... I was in a pretty bad place after I essentially saw Lucy get murdered. May have been part of what drove me to the gunners, aside from the caps. Anger was better than panic. “ “ How did you beat it?” “ I’m not sure I did. Entirely. But I... spoke to people. I asked for help. Because I was worried about Duncan. I was worried he would get scared of me, ya know? I found out what helps. Creating routines, minimise stress, make plans of the future. All easier said than done in the Commonwealth. I learned that there is no one way that helps everyone for sure... that kind of thing. i found out what chased it away and confronted myself with my triggers. But that doesn’t work as well for everyone. And it wasn’t pretty.“ “ So... if I hypothetically would ask you for help... what would you advise me to do?” “ You talk to someone you trust. Get whatever you need to get off your chest off your chest. Repeatedly. Talking about what you know helps you overcome a panic attack would be great too, so I know what to do.” “ You’re not gonna run? I mean this is not what you bargained for when you took the job.” “ Oh please, like this is still a job. Did you run when you realised you hired a merc with a lot of enemies and a kid to look after? Nah, I’m in this for the long haul. No matter how bad things get. No matter how much effort this takes. “

Maxson:

Maxson didn’t have too much trouble getting Sole to let go of him, pinning them to the wall with his arm on their neck ‘SENTINEL!” As soon as Maxson noticed Sole was not angrily fighting back but had frozen in place instead he let go. As soon as they did Sole started breathing more raggedly. “ I suggest you explain instantly why you did such a thing. You have five seconds.” No words came out. Sole just stared at him and seemed to run out of breath somehow. Maxson figured that that was not normal anymore... and that if they’d been a synth in Sole’s place they would not have such a thing happening. Maxson walked closer to them. “Sentinel?” His anger turned into concern. Like it or not Sole had grown on him. Maxson sat across them. “Concentrate on your breathing, calm down. Listen to my voice. Breathe in. Breathe out. Shh...” He instinctively reached for their arm but when they flinched he decided not to proceed with that action. “ What caused this? Are you ill?” “ I don’t... I do but I don’t know what triggered it.” “ ... If something is wrong, if you need help of some sort, I need to know. We have medics. What is it?” “ From who I have consulted... Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.” A look of recognition flashed across Maxson’s face. “ We can help with that.” Sole shook their head. “ No I gotta... I gotta just deal with it and move on. Pretend you don’t know this.” “ Sentinel I cannot do that. PTSD is serious, I will not allow you to ‘handle’ this on your own. We have resources. People. Let the Brotherhood help you.” Sole seemed hesitant. “No. I can’t do that, I’m the Sentinel. If they realize I can be beaten down by just looking at certain things, remembering certain things...” “ Nobody blames you for trauma due to saving humanity. After all that has happened to you... they ought to respect you for accomplishing such great feats in spite of it.” Sole shook their head. “Not everyone will. You know this. They’ll try to strip me of my rank. “ “ Fine. Then let me help.” “ Don’t you have better things to do? I’m just... I’m fine.” “ Do you trust me? Is there someone you trust to talk to?” “ Well... you know now. “ “ Will you allow me to listen? Seek aid for you without mentioning your name?” Sole opened and closed their mouth again. They nodded. “Why would you though?” “ Because... I care. I’ll find first thing in the morning.” “ Maxson...” Sole realised how unusual it was for the Elder to concern himself with such things. Such a trivial thing considering all of his responsibilities. “Hm?” He seemed lost in thought already, paining himself to remember something. Perhaps what he remembered of PTSD. Sole looked down. “ Thanks.” Maxson reached for their shoulder. More slowly this time. Sole allowed him to put his hand on to it. “ Don’t mention it. And Sentinel... this does not mean you are weak. It means you are brave. You are fighting. You will win.”

Preston “ Ge... neral. Stop. Pl... please. Sole” He put his hands on their wrist and saw them shake their head before backing away. “ What just... but I was... where am I? What was... “ Sole sat down and grabbed her own legs, curling up into a ball. “It’s not real. It’s wasn’t real.” Preston sat down in front of them. Sole was having a panic attack. He knew that much. He just didn’t know why. “ You’re safe. You’re here. What was that? Did you have a bad dream?” “ Sure... let’s say it’s that.” Preston got closer to Sole. “ With all do respect general, you are a terrible liar.” “ I’m not.” “ Can I help?” “ Yeah. Tell me what room we’re in. Describe it to me.”

He described the room. and Sole followed his gaze. Making sure they weren’t imagining anything anymore. “ Anything else I can do?” “ Not tell anyone.” “ All right... if you’ll speak to me about it at least. “ Preston felt worried. How had he not noticed this before... all those dangerous situations. How did they... Probably the same way he did. Brave face. People are counting on you. “ Okay. But not... not right now all right?” “ Yeah, whenever you’re ready General. “ Sole hesitated. Preston looked at them and put an arm around their shoulder. Good thing they had calmed down enough. This attack wasn’t at all that bad compared to... “You... need a hug?” They shook their head. “Hey, what’s up? Talk to me.” “ PTSD, all right? Might not even be the only one in this room who has it. Based on what you told me. So I’m not about to burden you with my problems too.” " Oh... but...” “ PTSD comes in different forms. You talked to me about your depression, anxiety... you just have it more under controle than me.“ “ Staying close to people I love helps me. Remind me why I keep going.” ““I appreciate it but... perhaps just leave me be for a second.” Preston nodded and walked towards he door, ready to stand guard. When he reached ithe heard Sole’s voice once more. “ On second thought... I... could use a hug. And... maybe someone to listen. If you don’t mind.” Preston turned around again. “I’ll listen for as long as you let me.Take all the time you need.” “ On one condition. You need to also talk to me, okay? Please? “ “ Okay. We’ve got each other’s backs. I can work with that.”

X6-88 X6 managed to grab her wrists before her hands could even touch his neck. “ Is this some kind of human way to indicate you disagree with my demeanor ma’am/sir? Certainly there are better ways to handle the way I serve and protect you and the Institute. I am, after all, your ally.” “ Let me go X6.” “ I’m afraid I cannot do that before I know what caused this... action of yours. Lest you should attempt such a thing once more.” “ Sometimes I remember... certain things and get... panic attacks. So before you lecture me about how fear is irrational and therefore undesirable for a leader let go of me.” As usual Sole couldn’t read his reaction to the news due to those damn sunglasses, but he did let go of them. Sole rubbed their wrists, closed their eyes and tried some breathing exercises before punching a wall. “ Can I be of help?” “ I wouldn’t know how... so go ahead. Tell me I’m not fit to lead with such a debilitating disorder or whatever it is that is truly on your mind. “ “ Do these attacks occur often?” “ They occur less since you’re by my side but yeah they do. It’s got a name I’m told. PTSD; post-traumatic stress disorder. “ “ Strange name, as the trauma seems to be unresolved. “ “ In a way. Regardless... go ahead. I noticed how excited you seemed about me when you were told to guard me in the first place. If anything this surely solidifies your doubts of me. Bet you’re gonna go run off to the board to tell em what happened.” “ Such faith you have in me. I have to admit I once was... concerned by your seemingly underprepared way of reacting to everything. I didn’t think you could handle this life and the job you were given... but I should not have doubted you. You’re as tough and determined as anyone I’ve met. I look up to you. You could accomplish anything you set your mind to. This also means you could defeat whatever has been haunting you mentally. Though if I may suggest it, you may want to speak to the medics at the institute. They may be able to offer some advice on this.” “ It’s not that easy, especially when you don’t know who to trust. And medics... sure. As if they’ll descreetly handle the information. I haven’t grown on them yet, I believe.” “ You have on me. They are duty-bound to respect your wishes, including those of not divulging information to the wrong people. Such a thing would be treason. In the meantime... Do not leave my sight. Understand?” Sole faked a smile. “Distrust after all?” “ No. I intend to help you battle this in whichever way I can. Including protecting you from prying eyes when necessary and even more so helping you get out of situations you do not want to be in.”

Edit: find Porter Gage here

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svtbiasrekt · 6 years

Text

Seventeen reacts to s/o bottling up emotions

Anon asked: “omg i absolutely loved ur hijabi reaction and i was wondering can u do a reaction to seventeen's girlfriend always bottling up her sadness and anger, like if she ever had a problem she would never tell them about it and just silently go in the washroom and cry and then refuse to even talk about it all no matter how much or for how long she cried if u cant do it then its okay but if u do i would be thankful😂”

(sorry this took so long anon! I had to wait until testing was over so I could do this over break! hope you enjoy!)

You were having a really unfortunate day. You felt like you absolutely failed the test in (your worst subject) that you had spent so long studying for. To make it worse, it was a Friday, and usually you would hang out with your boyfriend after school. Though you loved your boyfriend, you were feeling really upset when he arrived to your place; you didn’t want him to see you like this. He came in with a great mood. He was really happy to spend time with you after an endless week and you didn’t blame him. You would’ve acted the same if it wasn’t for that stupid test.

“God this week was so long,” he said as he sat down on the couch next to you.

“Yeah it was,” you said with a sarcastic tone that almost sounded angry at the same time.

He didn’t seem to notice and continued, “Yeah I’m glad it’s over, finally I get to hang out with you!”

“Cool,” you shrugged him off. You didn’t mean to come across as rude but you were not really feeling it at all.

“Uh, yeah,” he uttered kind of awkwardly. Noticing your frame even refusing to look at him, he sensed something was off. “Hey, (Y/n)?”

“What?” you muttered trying not to face him as you felt tears welling up in your eyes as you remembered the test again.

“Is something the matter? You can always tell me-” he was cut off when you abruptly stood up and rushed to the bathroom. “(Y/n)!” he called as he heard the bathroom door being shut.

Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Vernon, Chan:

As soon as you shut the bathroom door with a bang (Bf/n) knew something was wrong. You normally don’t storm off like that. He sat on the couch for a moment and sighed. Were you mad at him?

“Did I accidentally say something stupid? God I’m an idiot,” he thought before standing up and walking to the bathroom door.

(Bf/n) was about to knock but stopped when he heard your silent crying. He felt his heart break when he heard you trying so hard to conceal your tears. He really hoped you weren’t crying because of him.

“(Y/n)?” he asked calmly, “Are you okay?”

The crying on the other side of the door abruptly stopped at the sound of (Bf/n)’s voice, “Yeah I’m fine.”

(Bf/n) knew that was clearly a lie. He didn’t like that you were trying to avoid him because as your boyfriend it is his job to take care of you. “If you’re fine will you tell me what happened earlier?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you murmured.

“(Y/n) please tell me! Did I do anything wrong?” pleaded (Bf/n).

The fact that (Bf/n) thought he was the reason for your anger and sadness broke your heart. (Bf/n) is perfect in your eyes and he has never wronged you in any way. You felt guilty and couldn’t help but cry more. You felt absolutely weak. First you failed your important test and second your boyfriend misunderstood you and blamed himself.

Upon hearing more sobs come from you, (Bf/n) decided to take matters into his own hands.

“(Y/n), I’m coming in,” he said. Before you had a chance to react, he barged in somehow and found you sitting on the floor drowning in your own tears. This sight broke (Bf/n)’s heart once again and before he knew it he was hugging you tightly in his arms.

“(Y/n), please tell me what’s the matter. I can’t stand seeing you like this,” he pleaded once more. Actually seeing the worry in his eyes face to face caused you to sob more.

After what seemed like years you finally found the courage to admit to him what made you so angry and sad at the same time. You explained to him how hard you studied for this test and how much time you put in only to end up in failure. After hearing your story, (Bf/n) uttered words you would never forget and always recall whenever you felt like this.

“(Y/n), we all have our ups and downs, We have to struggle in order to succeed. There will be difficult days, but you gotta do your best. Also next time you feel like this, please don’t run to the bathroom. I’m always here for you okay? You’ll never be alone I’m in this with you,” he said as he smiled and hugged you once again. He knew how to make you feel better and you loved him for that.

Soonyoung, Seokmin, Seungkwan, Minghao, Joshua:

(Bf/n) immediately chased after you. You sounded so distraught and so un-(Y/n), so something had to be wrong. You entered the bathroom quickly enough to lock the door after you and immediately the tears poured out. (Bf/n) was about to call your name again until he heard your sobbing from the other side of the door. He froze at the sound of you fighting to keep your sobbing quiet. It sounded like you were releasing emotions that have been concealed for so long. (Bf/n) felt his heart break into a million pieces hearing your pain. The only thing he wanted to know was the reason behind your sadness.

“(Y/n)?” he began, “Are you alright?”

As soon as you heard his voice, you tried to stop the tears. “Yeah it’s fine,” you lied badly.

“Whatever it is that’s making you so upset, you can tell me about it,” he said hoping you’ll open up.

You still felt uncomfortable about telling him that you made such a fuss over a test so you decided not to reply to (Bf/n). A moment of silence passed when (Bf/n) spoke up.

“(Y/n), please come out. I’m always here for you,” he said.

From the other end of the door, (Bf/n) sounded like he was going to cry because of your sadness. You didn’t want him to feel this way either so you decided to open the door. (Bf/n)’s sad expression turned into one of relief when you stepped out and he immediately engulfed you into a hug. You don’t understand why, but his simple embrace was enough to make you start bawling again, yet this time your emotions were a mixture of relief and familiarity taking you away from your stress.

“It’s okay, (Y/n). Let it out,” he said as he rubbed your back and held you a little closer.

Once you felt like you let out all of your emotions, you looked up at (Bf/n). “Thank you,” you said softly, “I was only upset because I think I failed that huge test in (worst subject).”

(Bf/n)’s eyes softened, “That’s what all the fuss was about?” he joked, “(Y/n) you’re one of the smartest people I know! I’m sure you did well. Believe in yourself as much as I believe in you!”

God no words could describe how much you love (Bf/n) right now. He instantly made you feel better with his sincere kindness.

Jeonghan, Jun, Woozi:

(Bf/n) was instantly taken aback at your sudden move. He has never seen you storm off ever. He paused in confusion and surprise as he took a moment to process what had just happened. The sound of quiet sobbing however snapped him out of his thoughts. Hearing your crying led him to the bathroom door where he felt his heart shatter at your choked sobs.

“(Y/n)? Are you okay?” he asked softly.

You felt yourself jump when you heard his voice. He obviously seemed worried about you though, but you were too much of a sobbing mess to even coherently speak.

“Listen (Y/n), please say something. Something is obviously not right and I want to help you,” he said calmly with a tone of sadness.

It took you a couple of breaths to calm yourself down to the point where you could actually speak without sounding like a blubbering mess. Finally you said, “I’m okay,” which was clearly a lie.

“No you aren’t okay. Please open the door I don’t want you to suffer alone,” he pleaded.

You didn’t want to deal with (Bf/n)’s constant pleading so you decided to just open up the door. But at the same time you wanted his comforting embrace so badly. As you opened the door (Bf/n) immediately captured you in an embrace you needed so badly. You continued sobbing against his chest as he held you close. After what felt like hours your sobbing finally stopped as you felt fatigue overcome you. (Bf/n) felt so bad seeing you exhaust yourself from crying so much. He just had to know what was wrong to help prevent something like this again. In order to do so, he would have to talk to you about your problems.

“(Y/n), go to sleep, you’ve had a long day,” he said quietly as he wiped some of the last tears that escaped your eyes. You only nodded and held his hand like a child as he lead you to your bedroom. He even tucked you in and placed a sweet kiss to your forehead. As he was about to leave you grabbed his wrist, “Please stay a bit.”

He nodded and sat at the edge of your bed. Getting a better look at his face he clearly looked stressed out from worrying about you. You felt kind of bad that he was worrying so much but felt blessed at the same time that he cares so much about your wellbeing.

“(Bf/n), I was just upset over that stupid (worst subject) test I had earlier today. I’m pretty sure I failed it even though I studied for it for so long,” you admitted.

(Bf/n)’s faced kind of had that “ahh” look of realization as he finally figured out what was bothering you. He spoke up and said, “(Y/n), next time you feel this way, please don’t be afraid to tell me. You’re really smart (Y/n) and one bad test grade shouldn’t hurt you so badly. If it stresses you out this much, I’ll be there to help you get through it, I promise.”

With that, you felt better and more reassured than ever this past week knowing how kind your boyfriend is and how you can always rely on him.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen fic #Seventeen #seventeen imagines

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drybonesawaken · 3 years

Text

A group of people wanted to share a journal together. So this week, I've been journaling (almost) every day, and tomorrow I'm gonna be passing it onto the next person.

It was kinda fun. Bit scary to put my thoughts out there - but not that bad tbh. I figured since I am not gonna keep the journal I should transcribe my thoughts somewhere, so here they are.

Yes, the math bits were included in the journal when I wrote. Just something fun I did. You can try to figure out if it means anything if you want :)

Maple 3.27.21

I don't like journaling .-. mah handwriting sucks, and pen ink takes too long to dry. Apologies If any of this page is smudged as a result ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ And no, Maple does not use anything but pen. When mistakes are made, and trust they will definitely be made, you see a lot of bleh <- that. I also missed like three words in the previous sentence, but it's messy to try to go back and put them in :( this is the consequence of writing when brain is running at negative mph... This may be two paragraphs of nothing, but honestly that's how my day goes, usually. Right now I'm listening to this audiobook to fill up my brain and stop it from thinking. It's quite interesting. I read the book back in middle school, and it's taking me on a trip down memory lane. I was listening to this earlier while playing tetris, too. I'm joining a tetris tournament tomorrow, so I've been grinding this week. Hopefully it goes well! It's funny how I spend so much time playing this game which means so little - but somehow, I find fulfillment in the emptiness that it brings me. Breaking personal records is such a meaningless ordeal, but somehow it's something I strive so hard to do. These days, PBs come once every couple of months. It's not worth it.

Maple 3.28.21

Today felt like I did everything and nothing all at the same time. I found out I don't like tetris tournaments. I hung out with some friends. I ate a big dinner. I made some choices I highkey regretted, yet couldn't stop myself from making in the moment. I spent some time sulking over said mistakes by cuddling with roommate. Very thankful for him - I definitely make him so uncomfortable LOL but he puts up with it because he knows touch is my love language. I was debating for awhile today over what I should eat for dinner (or breakfast or lunch or whatever you want to call it :') ) and I realized what I wanted to eat most was my own cooking. Unfortunately, I wasn't feeling like cooking, so I had to settle for something else, but this was kind of a wake up call: when's the last time I cooked for myself? hmmm... It's also at the same time pretty cool because less than a year ago, I was still at a place where I strongly disliked my cooking and only ate it because I had to. Crazy how things can change in just a year - my culinary skills must have improved a lot over last summer... I really need to get my car tires fixed tomorrow. I have time tomorrow. I had better go. If I don't, my car is gonna break.

How does one stop beating themselves up for their mistakes? I don't struggle with forgiveness, but oh how I struggle with forgiving myself...

1 + 2 = 4 = 2

Maple 3.30.21

Yesterday, we had to record something for Easter that took forever. It was not fun. I kept messing up. And my perfectionist self kept blabbering about wanting to redo certain things. Everyone was tired - it went so long - some people had exams; I can only imagine how annoying it must have been to hear me complaining about doing things again, and yet - and I hate myself for this - I couldn't help but keep bringing it up. Of course, being unsatisfied with the way I played, I volunteered to patch things up in post production. *sigh*, what a mistake that ended up being. Afterwards, I was tired and wanted to go home. Yet, because someone asked, and I guess I was a bit hungry, I decided to go get food with Junshik and Bryan. My ulterior motive was to talk to Bryan about buying cars, so I guess that worked out. But yikes, I only got 7 hours of sleep last night. - Today sucked. I'm realizing more and more that part of depression is the complete dependence on sleep. When I get not enough sleep, I'm not just fatigued: my life is just hell. I straight up no-showed to a meeting and apologized for it 8 hours after the fact (my excuse was that I feel asleep. Wow, something so embarrassing most people would find an excuse for it has now become my go to excuse. Rip). Went to a meetup because I didn't want to cancel - again - so that was fun (sorry if you're reading this. I lied when I said that I was ok :/). Life group was great I wanted to die but I was leading worship so I couldn't just leave. And oh yeah I just spent the last 4 hours after life group mixing that audio clip because stupid ol' me volunteered to do it asap yesterday. Tomorrow will be fun. I have 7 meetings/meetups from 9am to 8pm. I wonder how many I'll cancel last minute, or straight up skip...? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I hate ______.

Maple 3.31.21

9am to 8pm today was rough. It's kinda crazy - when I wake up, I knew it wasn't gonna be a good day...but I really needed it to be at least an okay day. And I think I somehow willed that into existence :O I need to try this again sometime. Didn't cancel or skip a single thing today! (Praise God!!!) After my meetings all ended, I had to tutor for another 3 hours until 11:30, too. That was draining. I also pranked a friend today - told her I was dating right after midnight. Oh I love April Fools. She's the only one I can consistently troll year after year. I also spent a considerable amount of time after midnight trying to figure out how to script Audacity in Python. Useless, sure, but it could save us sound people a couple of minutes every Sunday if I figure it out. This is what my degree is for :') Sleep is going to feel so good tonight.

5 + 4 - 7 = 2 + 1 11 + 1 + 1 - 1 = 6 4 + 2 = 3 5 = 2 + 2 - 3 5 = 4 - 1 - 2

Maple 4.2.21

I think my handwriting is getting better with this almost-daily practice =) This whole week has been busy-ness from when I wake up to when I go to bed. Hung out with people yesterday for the first time this week, and it was pretty tiring. I can't say I regret it though; I had a lot of fun and learned a lot about certain people. Recently, I've been noticing that people can tell when I'm tired a lot more obviously - someone on worship team who I only interact with on Sundays literally called me out for it. I'm finding that it just sort of slips onto my face, in such a way that I don't notice and can't even recognize it: I'm shocked every time it happens. Maybe it's because I've lost the will to live, so the lack of will to hide it came alongside as well. I accidentally let it slip that I've been brain empty to worship team today, and now there are even more people worried for me, some of whom I barely know. I'm such a burden :( Brain empty is honestly such a mood though. I have too many problems and not enough will to confront them. Better to just avoid. Yeah yeah yeah this is not healthy I know. I'll save doing things the healthy way for tomorrow :')

1 + 1 = 4 + 3 + 2 + 1 8 = 7 6 - 5 = 10 + 1 1 + 2 = 1 - 1

Maple 4.3.21

Today was supposed to be a more chill day, but it really wasn't... Forced myself to get out of bed for a meetup rather than cancel it. I think if I had cancelled it, everything else I had to do today would have followed suit shortly after.... It ended up being a 2-hour meetup, straight into 2.5 hours of tutoring. As much as they might have been pretty ok tbh, I can't say I enjoyed it. I was so dead afterwards. I wanted to cancel my dinner meetup so bad. But I had already gone shopping earlier today (during the first meetup) so that I could cook for him. And I knew if I cancelled it'd be another week before I'd have a chance. The food would have gone bad. So following 2 tilt-inducing matches of tetris which were supposed to be stress relieving (they were not), commenced 2 hours of cooking, followed by a 3.5 hr meetup. It was... haha... Did I enjoy it? Yup. Did I have a hella-thick mask on the whole time? Also yup. I'm so ready for a long hot shower and an early bedtime. Tomorrow is Easter. I'm not feeling very victorious...

1 + 2 = 4 - 1 1 + 1 - 1 + 1 = 1 1 + 2 + 3 - 4 = 4 - 1 - 2 + 1

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oneagainstthelegion · 3 years

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Scott Grafton: The Science of Physical Intelligence

• The mind influences the body, and the body influences the mind. Dr. Scott Grafton describes how marvelously the mind and the body seamlessly work together to help us navigate our daily lives. The ability to think and interact makes us human. An article by Mr. Alex Mau.

Mr. Alex Mau

December 7, 2020 • Last updated: December 7, 2020

in Mind and Body • 20 Minutes Read

"Both sports-like activities or sort of extravagant physical behavior but also just creative things. Building a house, pouring a slab of cement, whatever it is, that is the stuff of physical intelligence." - Dr. Scott Grafton.

In this episode of the "Art of Manliness" podcast, host Mr. Brett McKey interviews Dr. Scott Grafton. He is a neuroscientist and a professor specializing in neurology and nuclear medicine and the director of the UCSB Brain Imaging Center.

Dr. Scott Grafton's latest book, "Physical Intelligence: The Science of How the Body and the Mind Guide Each Other Through Life." Dr. Scott Grafton describes how marvelously the mind and the body seamlessly work together to help us navigate our daily lives and explains the cause of fatigue and the reason older adults fall.

Interview with Dr. Scott Grafton in Three Sentences

"Physical intelligence is not the same as a simple exercise. It is projecting yourself into really novel and interesting, and challenging situations. It is the difference between getting your exercise on a treadmill and getting your exercise on a trail in a park near your house. There is just no comparison." - Dr. Scott Grafton.

We take for granted how important the mind and the body interact seamlessly in our daily lives.

Most satisfying human experience is often involved with the body and the mind, like run a marathon, build a house, or trek across the desert.

Physical intelligence operates in the body, and most people often don't even think about it and understand how the body and the mind work collectively and cohesively.

Ideas to Takeaway from This Interview

"We did not evolve to sit around and talk or read books. That is the icing on the cake. We evolved from rough and tumbled environments where we had to find food build shelter, and find our way through vast rough environments. We did that up until very recently, only about a thousand years ago." - Dr. Scott Grafton.

What is physical intelligence?

"What makes a person great in some sense is what they do, the actions they enable, and the things they do in their world. Physical intelligence is just the underbelly of that. It is the underpinnings you need actually to get things done." - Dr. Scott Grafton.

The mind and the body operate seamlessly together to assist us in interacting and navigating our surroundings. Physical intelligence works automatically under-the-hood without our notice, and yet it is essential and often takes for granted.

We often do not think about it, yet it is the underpinnings we need to get things done without injures. Physical intelligence makes us human, interacting with the surroundings, and acting in the world. The human abilities with the mind and the body enable us to build bridges, craft masterpieces, erect monuments and navigate the world through treacherous lands and turbulent seas.

We have the greatest pleasure and enjoyment when we work with our hands and walk on our feet. Humans did not evolve to sit around the house and look at our phones. We developed from living in rough and violent environments where we built shelters, created tools, and traveled through the harsh environment for survival. Physical intelligence is the physical presence, touch, smell, and feel in our surroundings that make us human.

How the mind and the body make space around us?

"Think about walking to the other side of the house. Think about walking across the street. In those moments, you have expanded your operational space. You can mentally stretch out and construct any of those volumes of space and then plan and organize your action inside that volume. We do this all the time, mentally, when we are moving and acting in our environments." - Dr. Scott Grafton.

The mind and the body are working together without we noticed. The mind constructs space around us about what is going on and gives us an idea of the environment.

When we walk across the room, the mind makes a sensory evaluation by creating a three-dimensional space about the room's size, calculating the distance, and assessing the obstacles. The body receives the sensory information and follows the instructions, and takes appropriate action if obstacles are in the way.

We have mentally stretch and expanded our operational space in those split seconds and planned and organized a series of steps inside that space. If we do not make space around us, we do not interact in it. Outdoor activities like obstacle course games are excellent to exercise the mind and body together. Mindful activities like meditations and sleep are perfect daily practices to clear the mind from distraction and strengthen attention.

What is affordance?

"Our mind unconsciously and seamlessly just recognizes, this is an obstruction, this is something I cannot get through, and it is looking for opportunities in the environment that it can accomplish or can get through." - Dr. Scott Grafton.

Affordance is what the environment offers us. It is the properties or the surface of objects which show us the actions we can take. For example, there is a giant concrete tube on the ground. We can roll the tube when it lies on the side or sit inside the tube, or stand on the tube's top.

Affordance is the mind and the body's relationship with the environment. A button can be designed to look as if it needs to be turned, pushed, or pulled. We should be able to perceive affordances without having to consider how to use the items. Affordance provides the visual and mental imageries of the environment that creates possible and impossible for us.

The mind unconsciously recognizes the environment and works seamlessly with the body to navigate the scene safely. If there are obstructions in our way and we know we cannot get through them. The mind will look for other possibilities to steer through obstacles and arrive at the destination. The mind and the body are continually interacting with the environment around us. The mind does the visual and mental evaluation and calculation while the body navigates the world, so we do not accidentally walk into walls and traffic.

Why people fall?

"The reality is everything we learn motorically, and we are also kind of unlearning, but not completely." - Dr. Scott Grafton.

The common misconception is those older adults with poor health or eyesight fall, but the fact is that everyone falls, either healthy or young. Affordance deterioration explains why most older adults fall as they age. Our ability to effectively move and walk as we age will deteriorate over some time if we do not exercise our motor skills regularly. If we have not been walking for an extended period, the affordance becomes rusty and weak, and we cannot evaluate the possibility for us. The result is that we are more likely to fall and become more vulnerable to cracks and holes in the sidewalk.

Another common misconception is those older adults should live in a safe and protective environment to avoid injuries. However, the opposite provides a more effective outcome. Walking, balancing, and crawling is motor skills that involve the muscles' body movements and actions. Affordance is a skill. It takes practice to grow better and will deteriorate if not utilize frequently.

Affordance is a radical view about what to do with aging. Older adults should continue to challenge themselves regularly in physical activities. Full-body activities on gravel roads, uneven pavements, and rough surfaces will develop the strength to hold, the vision to see, and the mind to navigate the outdoor environment. The more variety and complex the settings are, the better for older adults to adapt and are less likely to fall in unpredictable environments.

We should continuously challenge ourselves in physical activities as we age. We should give our strength and vision the outdoor activities like a walk on gravel roads, crawl up a hill, see far distance. Outdoor activities are much better for our bodies than exercises in the city on perfectly smooth sidewalks.

Affordance is a skill. Skills that take time to learn, like the footwork, the motion, and the movements, take time to re-learn. The primary motor skills are intact with age, but the advanced motor skills, like balancing, running, and leaping, will deteriorate if we stop exercising them.

What is body schema?

"It is your map of where you are right now. It is a hard problem because you are this mushy three-dimensional object that's constantly changing its posture. The sensors for tracking this are very noisy, and they fooled easily, so it is a hard problem for the brain to keep track of simply the posture." - Dr. Scott Grafton.

Body scheme is the understanding and awareness of the bodies' boundaries learned through movement and experience within three-dimension space. It is a collection of processes that registers body parts' posture; the space around the body and individual body parts that can reach with the hands, the brain must compute the arms' position within the space.

When we do physical work, the body performs the posture while the mind tracks the movements. It is a challenging problem for the brain because the body position's coordinates are continually shifting within the three-dimensional space. The sensors to monitor our movement within the complex and noisy environment create calculation challenges for the brain to track the posture and measure distance in the three-dimensional space.

Body schema is not just an awareness of body posture and pose, but also understand the movement and the motion. It takes dedicated control and focuses on controlling the body. Gymnasts and dancers have an outstanding ability to track their body pose. They learned and practiced postures and movements. They have a great sense of where their bodies are at any moment within the three-dimensional space.

What causes fatigue?

"Fatigue is a battle of multiple minds we have, one of which is persevering and pushing us as hard as we can and another one is creating this emotional sense to hold some in reserve." - Dr. Scott Grafton.

Fatigue is an emotion that the brain generates, independent of whatever the muscles are doing when we create this emotion to reserve energy.

The idea would be when humans were hunters and gatherers. They traveled long-distance for food and shelter. The mind and body would nurture us by reserving body energy for unknown elements like how many more days to travel or how much farther to travel to find food or shelter. This reserving body energy emotion is called fatigue. The mind puts aside body energy in reserve if we are at a point of actual exhaustion and injure the body./p>

Athletes push themselves over long periods to past the point, far past the point where their bodies sense fatigue. We often see athletes collapse at the finish line. These athletes feel the fatigue, but they learn to suppress it and move forward until the end.

Final thoughts.

"We should double down and make exercises even more interesting, even more physically interesting and demanding. I think a person gets far more well-being from doing that, they age more gracefully, and they experience much more of the world in a better way." - Dr. Scotto Grafton.

Physical intelligence is not physical exercises that we participle indoor. It is the collaboration with the mind and the body to operate together to achieve the ability to project ourselves in actual and challenging situations in daily life. We can interact and think in the world.

The mental benefits for the mind and the physical benefits for the body come from actual physical, complex, and varied environments that are incomparable to simple exercises.

Rock climbing is an excellent exercise of physical intelligence in rough and tumbles environments. It utilizes the mind and the body simultaneously, and there is no distraction and interruption with the electrical devices. It is a physical exercise that requires focus and concentration at the moment.

We should double down on physical activities as we age and make daily exercise challenging. An active and physical lifestyle goes far more than well-being. It goes from living a reactive life in a safe and protective indoor environment to living an energetic experience in an outdoor physical environment.

Interview Summary with Dr. Scott Grafton

"Just like a search and rescue team, it does not just willy-nilly wander into the wilderness looking for someone. They create a map, and they lay out a grid, and they say, 'This is what we are going to do here. We are going to first set constraints on the space we wanna work in.' We do this all the time, mentally when we are moving and acting in our environments." - Dr. Scott Grafton.

"Intelligence and skills can only function at the peak of their capacity when the body and the mind are healthy and strong." - President Mr. John F. Kennedy.

"Lack of activity destroys the good condition of every human being, while movement and methodical physical exercise save it and preserve it." - Pluto.

The mind influences the body and how the body influences the mind, and it is this cycle; they cannot disconnect from each other.

A man of action or the concept of what makes a person great is what they do, the actions they enable, and the things they do in the world.

Man travels the wilderness without the convenience of technology is an excellent environment to explain the meaning of physical intelligence, and it is the purest and finest human experience.

The ability to think and interact in the world makes us human.

The convenience of technology lessens the human ability to experience an adventurous and meaningful life.

Meditation and doing things in wild environments train us to be more disciplined in allocating our attention and focus.

Falling is the number one reason people go to emergency rooms, and it is older adults, young people, and everybody. Often, the reason is that they do not engage in complex outdoor activities regularly.

The most difficult sensory experience is connecting the conscious verbal mind and the body posture with the eyes closed. The mind cannot tell the body how to operate without evaluating, calculating, and analyzing the environment.

[You can listen to this full interview at the "Art of Manliness"Link]

Further Read and Resources on Physical Intelligence

"Physical Intelligence: The Science of How the Body and the Mind Guide Each Other Through Life" by Dr. Scott Grafton's book is available on Amazon.

You can learn more about his book and his work at ScotthYoung.com.

Kalymnos Climbing Festival. A unique gathering of climbers, taking place on the beautiful island of Kalymnos, one of the world's “hottest” climbing holiday destinations.

You can read the review of Antonio R. Damasio, "Descartes' Error: Emotion, Reason, and the Human Brain," 1994 here.

The Barkley Marathons is an ultramarathon trail race held in Frozen Head State Park near Wartburg, Tennessee. The full course is 100 miles (160 km) and is limited to a 60-hour period.

You can watch the movie trailer of "The Barkley Marathons: The Race that Eats its Young." It is available on Amazon Prime.

If you enjoy this interview, please visit the website Art of Manliness for more in-depth interviews with authors and thinkers. The Art of Manliness podcast is available on Apple Podcasts, Google Android, Stitcher, Spotify, Overcast, Tunein, and most major podcast platforms.

Don't forget to visit the "Art of Manliness" store for a well-thought-out gift to a special person in life. Your purchase supports his business and mission.

Our Mission.

#scott grafton #physical intelligence #writing #mind #body

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literatelogan · 4 years

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the binding of two forces | a love that never lost momentum

{3: become who you want to be} wattpad | ao3

kobayashi kei is a teacher at U.A. who has an established relationship with aizawa shouta. kei and shouta have known each other ever since they started at UA together. their friendship had always been strong but this is the story of how they came to be as a couple and what the future holds.

a/n - !manga spoilers! slightly divergent of the main plot but it will be caught up to the current season of the anime after the time skip. she is the homeroom teacher for 1B but don't worry we still stan vlad in this house so he's now 2B. bit of a promotion for the trouble. her quirk is fatigue manipulation. she has the ability to manipulate the fatigue of oneself or others, both mental and physical. she can increase, decrease, cause or prevent fatigue. in order to increase someone's fatigue, she needs to either leech from another person or herself. her fatigue is only affected if she is using a lot of energy either giving or transferring. if she takes energy from someone else, she will gain it. she cannot rest or sleep until she gets all of her energy out either by wearing herself out mentally or physically. she cannot kill someone easily but she can make some lose consciousness.

The school year seemed to move faster than Kei could keep up with. Before she knew it, they were preparing for the amazing U.A. Sports Festival. While Kei would have loved to be in the top ranks, she knew her quirk wasn't flashy enough. Regardless, she worked on her combat training until she was barely able to get into bed. She woke up early and did longer runs. She wore weights to increase her strength and stamina. The boys worked hard as well. Of course, Hizashi and Oboro did amazingly. Kei did pretty well and so did Aizawa but she had expected him to blow everyone away. After learning more about his quirk, she would have expected him to be closer to top ranks. The first years were never completely dazzling. People watched for the third years. As the school year went along Kei got to know the boys even more and considered them some of her best friends. Every night that they couldn't catch up after class, Kayama and Kei would talk on the phone for at least half an hour about their days. While Kei pretended she hated talking about Shouta, she really didn't. It was an excuse to gush about how cute he was. How sweet he was. He was a boy of few words and few actions but the ones he had were meaningful. Oboro and Hizashi were great. Always a hint of flirtation in their banter. Shouta was different though. It was the time of year where they had to pick their hero names. At least the ones they would start out with. Oboro and Hizashi knew theirs already but Shouta and Kei were still out of ideas. Oboro or as he was now known, Loud Cloud, suggested the very creative Energy Girl. Hizashi thought Agent Energy was a bit better. She might have gone with that if she didn't think about how silly Shouta's new name was. Eraser Head. It fit him but at the same time, it was a bit goofy. "I'm not sure. This could be my name forever. Those just sound...not serious enough. I want people to know I mean business." Kei hit her fist on the table with a little too much force and everyone in the classroom snapped their heads back to glare before going back to coming up with their own names.

"Vitality." Just one word from Shouta. Vitality. Kei smiled at him. "I think I like that." "Me too! Present Mic introduces the Energy Hero: Vitality!" Oboro cheered with Kei. Earning them even more glares. After class, Kei grabbed Shouta's arm just enough to stop him from leaving with the rest of the class. "Hey." She smiled at him and she could feel her cheeks turning pink just from looking at him so closely without the others around. "Thank you. I really like my new name." Her eyes were deceiving her. Was Shouta actually smiling so wide directly at her? Not at anything the boys said. Not a little smirk. A big smile. She tucked her face down a little embarrassed looking up at him. "You need a name that fits you. Something straight forward. And pretty." Kei gasped looking back up at him. Shouta was starting to blush too but before he could do or say anything more. "I- um...thank you! I really should go. Have a good night! See you tomorrow." She almost bolted for the door. She didn't know what to do. "Did he just call me pretty? Or was that just the name. But he said it had to fit me and that it was pretty so does that mean he thinks I'm pretty?" She found Kayama and told her everything. The girls gushed outside of the school for a little while trying to figure out what it meant. "Obviously he thinks you're pretty and wants to kiss you. It's so obvious." Kei shook her head. "You haven't even met him!" She laughed lightly. The girls parted ways and Kei thought about what he said all night long. The next day, Shouta sat the farthest from her of the three boys. He didn't say a word to her. Didn't even look at her. Kei was trying to pretend like everything was normal with Hizashi and Oboro but she was still awkward. Mr. Blue hair noticed. "What's wrong with you today?" She had been staring at the lines of her palm and was tracing them with a finger on her other hand. "What?" She responded when she snapped out of it. "I said what is wrong with you today, Kei. Are you okay?" Oboro put a hand on her shoulder and looked at her with a facial expression that showed actual concern. A serious moment at least as far as he went. "Oh. I'm fine." She nodded giving him a half-smile. "Just didn't get enough sleep." Not wanting to draw any more attention to her weirdness she stayed mostly quiet until it was time to leave. "See you tomorrow!" She told the guys before leaving as fast as she could again.

{aizawa pov}

Kobayashi was acting weird. Of course, she was acting weird. He freaked her out and now she was avoiding him. Shirakumo noticed she was acting weird too. He was apparently using both of the brain cells he shared with Yamada who was yelling about whatever. Shouta stole glances at her when he could. He just wanted to make sure he hadn't hurt her, right? All he did was say she was pretty. Sort of. I mean not really but he hinted that she was. He had been so careful to not blow his cover. It only took a couple weeks of school for Yamada to notice the way Shouta looked at Kobayashi. The way he'd hide his smiles whenever she made a dumb joke. He wouldn't call her dumb when she was doing the same stupid things Shirakumo and Yamada were doing. It took until the U.A. Sports Festival for Shirakumo to notice. Now Kobayashi was acting weird the day after she pulled him aside. When she said she hadn't gotten enough sleep, Shouta sighed. "Is that a lie or did I really make her lose sleep? I should have never said anything." She left class just as quickly as she had the day before leaving the three of them in the dust. She was just barely gone when Aizawa felt a punch in the arm. "What did you do to her?" Shirakumo looked a little mad. "Nothing. I didn't do anything." Yamada had figured it out by now and was also giving Aizawa a look. "Shouta, what the hell? She's fun to have around. Don't scare her off because you can't keep your eyes off her.", Yamada said actually at a fairly normal volume. Though he was probably trying to be quiet so people wouldn't hear them and make everything worse. "She thanked me for coming up with the name and I might have accidentally called her pretty." Another punch in the arm but this time it was from Yamada. "Now who's the idiot. You have to fix this." Shirakumo interjected. "Don't. You'll probably only make a bigger mess of things. I'll see if I can help."

{back to kei's pov}

The next day was still agonizing. Now it seemed like Yamada knew something was going on, too. Kayama had been no help the night before. Her idea of flirting is just smiling and watching boys fall to their knees in front of her. She could get any boy in school, easily. Probably any boy in Japan, honestly. This time instead of Shouta staying behind to talk to Kei it was Oboro. Which confused her even more. "What is he going to ask? Is he going to tell me Shouta hates me? I bet that's it." She didn't know what to expect but Oboro putting his arm around her wouldn't have been her first guess. "Not getting enough sleep, huh? Wouldn't happen to do with a certain quiet dreamy type, would it?" Kei's whole body tensed up and her blood rushed to her cheeks. "Oh god, he knows. Does everyone know? Hizashi wouldn't be able to keep a secret. The whole school knows by now. Shouta knows. I'm just going to move to America." She didn't know how to respond. "I'm going to take that as a yes. Look, Shouta is great and all but that boy doesn't know how to talk to girls. Not like me. I'm just so charming." He gave Kei a huge grin which actually got a laugh out of her and she relaxed a little. "I think he called me pretty." She scrunched her nose trying to contain her excitement and come off as cool and collected. "I heard. But...you have to be careful if you two are going to be a mushy gushy couple. Hizashi and I are going to have to start dating then and he's hot but he could use a push-up bra." An abrupt laugh came out of Kei's mouth. "I don't know what I'm even thinking. We have internships soon and then Finals. I can't think about a boy during this." Oboro smiled and gave her a nod. "That's probably a good idea. I'll smack him every time he's staring at you." Kei looked up at him, her face just as red as it can be. "He stares at me?"

#literatelogan #literateloganworks #the binding of two forces #aizawa x oc #aizawa #aizawa fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction

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forestwater87 · 7 years

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Who did they think they were kidding, anyway?

(Beta’d by @raenbowsofficial)

Summer 2017

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Gwen groaned, rolling over and pawing blindly at her phone. That was, what, her third time hitting snooze? That meant it was around 6:45, and she had fifteen minutes before breakfast.

Which . . . didn’t seem right. She sat up, double-checking the time on her phone with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Yep, 6:46 a.m., stark white letters against the New York City skyline that’d been her phone background for years.

David usually woke her up before now. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept in this late, without the gentle rap on her bedroom door and a sunny “Good morning, Gwen!” Of course, it could be a coincidence that the one morning he didn’t come to get her also happened to be the morning after he’d turned her down for sex and she’d had a major freakout. It could definitely just be unfortunate timing; hell, maybe David had overslept for once.

It was always possible, right?

And if he wasn’t in the main room of the cabin, and if his bedroom door was wide open and neatly put together and empty, then that was just another unfortunate coincidence.

Gwen wasn't very good at positive thinking, not like David. But she managed to wrestle her brain into something resembling optimism — or at least not blind, shrieking panic — as she stumbled through her morning routine, and was proud that she only felt slightly nauseous as she approached the mess hall.

David was standing by the breakfast line, overseeing the Quartermaster as he served the campers. (This was deemed necessary after he “accidentally” impaled the hand of a camper who’d been trying to steal an extra pudding cup. Poor Chucky never quite regained total mobility of his pinky.) Technically the counselors were supposed to trade off this job, but he always volunteered to take her “shifts,” because he liked the extra time to greet the campers as they came to the end of the line.

Usually she was too tired to give much of a shit about anything that was going on before her second cup of coffee, but this morning she couldn’t help but let her eyes linger on the back of the mess hall, watching as David playfully ruffled Max’s hair — easily dodging the boy’s sleep-clumsy shove — and asked Nikki about the caterpillar she was keeping in her overall bib pocket. His smile was happy and relaxed, effortless like it always seemed to be in the mornings. By the end of the day there’d be a bit more strain holding up that expression, but David was a morning person, of course. She’d hadn’t forgotten how much she missed seeing him first thing in the morning, but watching him put a hand on Space Kid’s helmet and comfort him over something QM had threatened, she was struck with a wave of homesickness so bad it felt like a weight on her chest, one that made her shoulders hunch up and her back bow. And for once that feeling wasn’t from seeing the city skyline on TV or from hearing a distant siren from town.

“Morning, Gwen.” David set her tray down in front of her — she hadn’t even thought of getting her own food, she was so used to him insisting — with a small smile that didn’t burn as brightly as the one he’d favored the campers with. “How’d you sleep?”

“Um . . . okay. Pretty well?” After curling up and crying with her teeth sank into her pillow so he wouldn’t overhear and wonder what was wrong. That kind of empty-your-insides sobbing was draining, and as awful as it seemed she actually had slept better than usual. “Overslept a little, I guess.”

She didn’t have the courage to be any more explicit than that, to come right out and ask if he was mad at her and that’s why he hadn’t gotten her up, but he nodded down at his breakfast like she’d asked anyway, twirling the gummy eggs with his fork and gnawing on his lower lip. “Of course. You must’ve been exhausted.” He swallowed, letting the eggs drip back onto the tray and coalesce back with the rest of the goo. “The first few weeks at camp are always pretty tiring, huh?”

His eyes met hers, then, and in them was that uncertain flicker Gwen had grown accustomed to lately, that waver of hope and nervousness like he was hoping she’d take the excuse he was offering and grant him some peace of mind. Just a little bit more, just to hold them together for a few more hours.

She nodded, dropping her gaze to her coffee and swirling it absently. “Yeah, it’s hard to get back into the swing of things.”

“It is!” And again Pavlov, that motherfucker, sprang to mind. Because it was just too automatic, mindless even. A reflex.

David smiled, Gwen felt better.

She felt better, she wanted him to keep smiling.

Which meant . . . lying. Lying until neither of them had the energy to buy it anymore.

But it seemed like the potency of their bullshit was starting to fade. Because that smile, the feeling better, only lasted as long as a quiet breakfast before David climbed to his feet, clapping to get the kids’ attention and beaming. “All right, kiddos! Why don’t you go brush your teeth and Gwen and I will meet you out on the activities field!”

She glanced up at him, confused. Normally they split up after breakfast so that she could watch over (and wrangle) the kids and David and QM would do dishes, but . . . “Who’s gonna take roundup duty?”

His smile didn’t falter, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes as he turned to her. “The Quartermaster agreed to supervise the campers so we can stay behind and clean up before morning activities. Sound good?”

It wasn’t really a question; the kids were already filing out of the mess hall, and QM had disappeared to . . . somewhere mysterious. Either way, this was clearly something they’d worked out while she was still asleep. So she picked up her tray and started to one of the other tables, snagging abandoned silverware and napkins and trying to figure out a way to avoid this conversation.

She had about five minutes to think, as they wiped down the tables and brought the dishes into the kitchen, as she scraped leftover food and campers’ experiments (and she couldn’t always tell them apart) into the trash and tried not to gag, as she joined David over the giant industrial sink and buried her hands in sickly gray-green suds and got to work. About five minutes of near-total silence, of clinking plastic and rustling clothing and not much else. In those five minutes, she failed to come up with anything to say.

But it seemed David had. "Gwen . . ." He swallowed, looking away for a second before taking a deep breath and forcing his eyes back to hers. "What'd I do wrong?"

It took her a second to recover, to swallow her surprise and meet his gaze, and it was just long enough to make every word that followed ring hollow. “You haven’t done anything wrong. Wh —”

Gwen cut herself off. Because what was the point in pretending that she had no idea where this question was coming from?

Instead she shrugged and returned to wiping out a glass with her washcloth. “Really, David, it’s nothing. It’s . . . I’m just —”

“Don’t say you’re tired,” he snapped, and it wasn’t quite angry but it was close, something anger-like but with a little wound in the center, bleeding frustration and impatience and a bone-deep weariness that felt too, too familiar. It was the same kind of pleading aching fatigue that she’d heard just over a year ago, in the words “times have changed, whether I like it or not.”

Times had changed. Whether they liked it or not.

She opened her mouth but he held up one soapy hand, bracing the other against the lip of the sink. “Please, Gwen. I . . .” He sighed, shaking his head. “I’m tired of you being tired.”

Something warm and barbed coiled in her stomach, and it was better than frigid dread or acidic guilt so she grabbed onto it with hands that would be lacerated bloody. He was tired of it? How the fuck did he think she felt having to live it every goddamn day? “Listen, David, I’m trying real hard to hide it and just be ‘happy sunshine camp counselor,’ but maybe it doesn’t come so fucking easily to everyone, okay?”

“Easily?” he repeated with a look of utter disbelief. “Who ever said that anything about . . . who said any of this was easy?”

“I’m just dealing with a lot of shit,” she said, forcing herself to take a deep breath and a few steps back, wiping her hand on a rag she really hoped had always been gray. “I’ve got a lot going on —”

“Like what, Gwen?” They both froze, realizing what he’d just said at the same time, and no sooner had the words left his mouth than he was covering it, ignoring the brackish water dripping down his fingers and wrists. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like — I just —”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t, and her lips felt almost too numb to form the words, but it wasn’t David’s fault. She could hardly hate him for understanding how it was with her — how little it took to leave her moody and overwhelmed and a terrible girlfriend. How “a lot of shit” sometimes consisted of a few sad thoughts that clung to her brain like spiderwebs and gummed up everything that was supposed to make her work like normal people. An idiot would’ve noticed something as obvious as how pathetic she was, and despite his other faults, David wasn’t an idiot.

David shook his head, all the anger leeching out with the tears that threatened to spill over his eyelashes. “No, Gwen, I don’t . . . of course you have plenty going on, I just . . .” His voice dropped almost to a whisper. “I want to be a part of it. I miss you. I’ve — every time we aren’t together, I miss you. And since we’ve been back, even though we are . . .”

God, he was sweet. Sweeter than she deserved, sweeter than was good for him. And even though it was the worst way to respond, even though the Audree in her head was furious and wailing, she tightened her grip on the thorns of anger and dug her nails in, asked herself if she was honestly supposed to believe that he missed being teased and complained at by a bitch like her. He might be a closet masochist, but even he had limits. What kind of misguided hero’s complex kept him trotting back to her side, when her side was full of bad manners and a hideous apartment and no friends and a miserable family, a miserable life, a miserable person?

The same hero’s complex, she realized with a sickening lurch, that kept him chasing after Max. Another joyless, caustic fuckup who didn’t know what to do with such blatant affection and who almost compulsively had to throw it back in his face. Someone with so much potential, if only he had a friend who’d believe in him. A project to nurture and feel good about at the end of the day, a success story that probably only existed in David’s head, a DIY he was still working on.

Did David see her as a project, too?

"Please." She snorted, crossing her arms and feeling the barbs shred through another layer of skin. "You just miss having someone to fuck."

"Wha — ? I . . ." His lips hardened into a thin line. "That's unfair and you know it."

They were jolted back to earth by a shrill beeping, the Camp Campbell theme song that signaled the end of the free period.

He glanced down at his phone, then at the half-finished dishes, and sighed, wiping off his hands without meeting her eyes. “It’s time for the morning activity.”

This wasn't one of their busiest days — Harrison had a magic show, which meant most of the afternoon was spent on the rough wooden benches facing the camp stage — and under normal circumstances the two of them would take the downtime as an opportunity to talk, plan for the rest of the week or mutter snarky comments (while David tried to keep her quiet and pretend he wasn't trying not to laugh), their fingers would find each other's. But he kept his face turned toward the stage and his hands in his lap, so she followed his lead and kept her mouth shut, watching Harrison unfurl a flower from between his fingers with her face blank and her mind racing.

By the time the curtain fell to lukewarm applause, the anger had completely leached out of her, and what was left was cold and sick and sad. By the time they’d sat through a dinner full of stilted small talk and playing with food neither of them were interested in eating, Gwen was pretty sure she was going to throw up the next time she opened her mouth.

By the time they’d returned to the cabin after putting the kids to bed — no stilted, pathetic attempts at small talk, not this time — she was close to a nervous breakdown. Calm down, she told herself, focusing on keeping her breaths steady and regular. This is fixable. You were a cunt, so just apologize and try harder to not be so . . . yourself all the fucking time. David’s forgiving. You’ll be fine.

Probably.

He held open the cabin door for her, as usual, but as she slipped through his fingers caught around her upper arm. “Um, Gwen?”

Her stomach clenched.

Oh god.

David cleared his throat and let her go, stepping inside and locking the cabin door behind them. “Could we . . . talk? I think we need to.”

Oh god.

She was going to be sick. If she opened her mouth she was going to throw up all over the hallway and then she’d have to spend the evening scrubbing partially-digested broccoli out of the carpet and at least that’d be better because then they wouldn’t have to have The Talk — David couldn’t possibly break up with her if she was sick, so vomiting was starting to look like a better idea by the minute . . .

“Yeah,” she said, and she wasn’t sure how she sounded so casual, like she wasn’t talking around a throat thick with acid. “Probably a good idea.”

No it wasn’t. It was an awful idea. It was the fucking worst idea she’d ever heard of.

She followed him into the cramped living room, perching on the edge of her armchair. He didn’t sit down, to her surprise; he just started pacing back and forth, rubbing at the narrow pink scars on the backs of his hands. A nervous habit.

The knot in her stomach grew just a bit tighter.

The silence stretched for almost a full minute, broke only by the light scuffing of his boots against the floor, when she cracked. “Listen, David, I was a total bitch earlier and I’m sorry, I —”

“Wait.” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. H- . . . how to say it. So please, just let me — I just need to get it out.”

She wanted to interrupt, drown whatever he was about to say in apologies because there was nothing good coming next, but his eyes popped open and focused on her just long enough to sever her vocal chords before he resumed pacing, wringing his hands and looking everywhere but at her.

“I’m . . .” His hands kept clenching into fists and releasing, like he was trying to grab the words long enough to force them out. “I’m not happy,” he finally said in a rush of breath, and it was like the tension had been sapped out of him. His shoulders slumped, relaxed, and his hands unfurled. When he turned to look at her, there was something like relief on his face. “I’m not. And — and I don’t think you are, either.” He paused, glancing at her like she hoped she would respond, confirm or deny or make still more excuses.

She didn’t. She didn’t know what she’d even say. Because she wasn’t happy, not even close. But she hadn’t been happy since graduating college, so what the fuck did it matter? And she couldn’t explain that, not to someone like David, someone who’d never understand, so she pressed her lips together and stared down at her thighs and idly wished they were smaller, more girly. As if having skinnier legs would make him want to be with her.

“This is . . . it isn’t working, and it used to. At least, I think it used to. And I don’t know what’s changed, if I did something or if you — or if maybe I was just misunderstanding things? And now . . .” David sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't know how you feel, about anything. Gwen, I'm trying so hard to be patient, but . . ." He shook his head, running his hands through his hair. "I mean — goodness, do you even actually like me?"

He looked up at her again, all big eyes and sincerity, and it didn’t make sense because the words coming out of his mouth were so goddamn stupid, but he was looking at her like they made sense, like he believed them. Like he thought she didn’t . . . that she could possibly . . .

He was waiting for an answer, she realized after a moment. The speech was done, and it was time to explain herself. But what was she supposed to say when she didn’t even understand what the fuck he was thinking? "That's — don't be — I —"

That's ridiculous.

Don't be crazy.

I do. Of course I do.

I like you so much I don't know what to do with myself.

"Gwen?" She snapped back to herself and realized that she had clutched the neck of her shirt and was crinkling it in one sweaty fist. Forcing her hands to relax, she avoided his eyes, because if she looked at him she'd shatter into pieces.

He wasn’t happy. David, the happiest person she’d ever met, the only man who could be tied to a spit-roast and smile, was unhappy. And she’d done that to him. All of this desperate clinging, excuses and being “tired” and half-smiles that must’ve looked as hollow and dead as she felt — it was for her benefit, and it was making him unhappy.

It was selfish, her wanting to be with him. If she had a heart she’d cut him free.

"Listen, David, I . . . like assholes. Guys who are self-involved, who make me feel like shit and who leave. That's my type." She shrugged, feeling oddly weightless. "This has been, I dunno, a fluke, an anomaly, whatever. It was bound to end sometime."

This was better. A dramatic speech, a tearful departure, maybe a little crying in the moonlight; it was downright Byronic. But most importantly, it was her leaving him. If it had to happen anyway, if the right thing to do was make it happen, she wanted it to be on her terms.

She'd been dumped by a lot of people, but she didn't think she could stand being rejected by David.

"Bound to end? I don't . . ." He moved closer, reaching out to take her hand. "Gwen, please —” oh god, his voice cracked and with it her resolve, “— just tell me what’s wrong. We can . . . can’t we talk about it?”

Goddamn it. Goddamn it, goddamn it, goddamn it. She couldn’t do this. She had to get out.

She had to say whatever it took to get out.

"I almost fucked someone else!" The words exploded out of her, totally unbidden; she covered her mouth but it was too late, they were in the air and they'd reached him, he'd heard them, she could see it in the way color bled from his face, making his freckles, usually almost invisible against his pink complexion, stand out in stark relief. And now that she'd started she couldn't stop, blurting out more and more things she'd never wanted to say. "I wasn't even that drunk, he kissed me and I let him, I thought about going home with him seriously thought about it, David! Okay? All this 'we can talk things out' bullshit? That only works with someone who — who —" Who works right in the first place .

For a second he just stared at her, frozen and white like a statue, all bloodless lips and wide eyes and hurt . "Wh . . ." He swallowed, licked his lips, looked down at his toes. "Why?"

His voice was so small. She'd never, ever heard him sound that small.

And that was painful, so she dug the knife in deeper, twisted it with everything she had as though it wasn't her own chest she was stabbing. "Because I make terrible decisions," she spat; he flinched away from her voice, wrapping his arms around his ribs like he needed a hug so badly he'd give one to himself. "It's fucking obvious! It's why I'm stuck in a job I hate, with an education that doesn't do shit for me or anybody else, and dreams that . . . that don't . . . matter." Her voice dropped, almost without her noticing. "All I do is make mistakes," she finally muttered.

Because when God was putting together all the little boys and girls of the world He must've dropped her, something was broken inside her chest, something was missing and there were monsters rattling around in that empty jagged space and everyone she'd fallen in love with left, because she could only pretend to be whole for so long before the rattling became loud enough that everyone could hear it, and no one could sleep next to that kind of racket. Even if they could, even if like David someone managed to ignore it or not hear it — the monsters brought out their claws, because it was a hell of a lot harder to avoid scratches and they wanted her all to themselves, to eat up all her insides and walk around her body.

And that all sounded good, but it was bullshit because Gwen knew there weren't any monsters inside her. She could blame God or her parents or whatever she wanted but she was the only one inside her head and she was the one who kept fucking up, and she was the one who knew David was too good for her and she went and fell for him anyway like the selfish idiot she was. Because if there was a monster it was her, and the only person being hollowed out and destroyed was him.

And there'd been a part of her that'd known that, and it hadn't stopped her.

"Oh." For a second he just looked at her, reading her face and she hated it because she didn't know what he was seeing but it couldn't be good. And she hated even more that his eyes still made her shiver, even looking at her the way he was she still preferred it to him not looking at her at all, even when she was trying to cut him free she still wanted to hold on as tight as she possibly could. "Okay, then!"

She didn't know how to respond, because his voice was taut and too bright, to the point where she glanced around to see if any of the kids had snuck into the cabin without her noticing and he was pretending everything was fine.

But it was just them, and it wasn't fine, and he wasn't pretending.

"I'm sorry," he said after another moment, still strange and cheery and broken, like she was watching a movie that'd been dubbed over badly, and nothing sounded like it came from where it should. And he wasn't smiling, his face was terrifyingly neutral but he straightened his back and squared his jaw and looked away and continued. "I didn't mean to be a mistake. I . . ." He trailed off, swallowing thickly, and now she couldn't look at him either and this was the longest they'd ever gone without eye contact and it just felt so wrong, "I'm going to go check on the campers."

Gwen wanted to leap forward and take his arm, touch his shoulder, say something because he didn't understand, but she just nodded and he left and then all she could hear was her own ragged breathing.

It wasn't fair for him to think that, not when the truth was just the opposite, and no small part of her wanted to chase him down and explain that dating him had been one of the few things she felt like she'd done right — for herself, anyway. Maybe not for him, because how could anything be right if it made him this sad?

And that was what kept her rooted to the ground, and when she eventually started walking it was what directed her toward her bedroom.

The thing was, if she told him he wasn't a mistake he might think they could still work out. Because he was too good, he didn't understand that some people weren't fixable and weren't meant to be happy and there was nothing he could do about it, but if she gave him even half a reason to hope he would try, try until his fingers were bloody and there was nothing left of his smile, and she wasn't going to let that happen.

She'd had her heart broken before and she was still here, and David was a lot more resilient than her so he'd be fine. It'd be a rough few months, he'd probably be sad for the rest of the summer but then he'd go home and next year she wouldn't be here, not even if this was the only job available and Campbell offered her a raise, because she couldn't do that to him and she definitely couldn't do it to herself. She couldn't watch him move on.

He would, of that she had no doubt. He was cute and sweet and sunny, and it was only a matter of time before someone scooped him up, some pretty girl with an easy laugh or a broad-shouldered guy who could give him hugs that'd swallow him. Someone else with the same tenacious optimism, who was so happy they made David look gloomy and short-tempered in comparison, with his favorite-colored hair, pink or green or yellow maybe, that didn't get tangled or knotted or kinked when he tried to play with it but fell through his fingers like cornsilk and reflected the light. Someone he could love effortlessly, without thinking. Someone considerate and perceptive who didn't insult him or push him away, who knew how to say they appreciated him, who never let a day go by without making sure he knew he was good, and special, and important.

Gwen wanted that for him. She wanted him to feel so loved he could drown in it.

She just didn't want to watch it happen.

#rest of the chapter under the cut #campcamp #cc david #cc gwen #gwenvid #my stuff #guess who hates this piece of shit chapter?#it me #because i can't writeeeee #forestwriting

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ridleymocki · 7 years

Text

Them Wild-Eyed Boys That Had Been Away

Written for Pynch Week 17, Day 7. Pprompt: Road trip // Accidental baby acquisition // First time

Summary: Just a good old fashion fic about stupid in love boys taking a road trip and negotiating their relationship. With bonus ladies of 300 Fox Way at the beginning, and Gangsey at the end.

Notes: I had quite a bit of fun with this, which was nice because wow, fic fatigue. Title is from 'The Boys Are Back In Town' by Thin Lizzy, because it's perfect for this, come on. Thank you so very much for reading! Pynch Week has been awesome and challenging as hell, and you guys make it worth it. One day to go! Enjoy!

Warnings: allusions to homophobia. (Ronan and Adam limiting the extent to which they're visibly together, just because they want to avoid confrontation or comment from other so they can keep their trip pleasant. No actual confrontations are had.)

also on ao3

When Adam turned to him one night and said, “I wonder if there’s magic anywhere else,” Ronan couldn’t see a reason why they shouldn’t try to find out.

There were still a few weeks before Adam had to be at college, and they’d done just about everything they could with these long, hot swathes of sunlit days, and especially while the rest of their gang was away.

So they went, packed up the car with too many snacks and probably too few shirts, and started to drive.

“We’re going to get lost,” Adam said.

“That’s the point.”

………………………………………..

They dropped Opal off at the witches’ house – they’re psychics, Ronan, god – and were fooled into staying for lunch. The house was as eclectic as ever, so they had grapefruit halves, and bits of prosciutto wrapped around slices of rock melon, home-made tea coulis over wholemeal pancakes. Maura had to wrestle the container of pancake batter away from Calla so she wouldn’t make rude shapes with their food.

Opal ate happily, her hoofed feet swinging off the edge of the chair, eating the grapefruit pith and all. She didn’t need babysitting, not really. She was too Other and ancient to really be mistaken for a child. But it wasn’t fair to leave her alone, either.

And it wasn’t fair that with Blue away and Persephone gone, this house – though never capable of reaching quiet – had grown a little emptier. It was clear in the way Maura set out too much cutlery for them and touched her hand to Ronan’s shoulder that she was missing her daughter. It wasn’t so much about having Ronan and Adam to lunch as it was about having people close to her daughter be also close to her.

“Where are you going to go?” Maura asked them, swilling a glass of sweet liquid packed with slices of lime and mint leaves.

“Don’t know,” Adam said, and shoved a bit of pancake with prosciutto into his mouth, ever the opportunistic eater. “We just want to see what there is.”

“Well you’ll see plenty,” Calla said with a scoff. “Not guaranteed that you’ll like it, though.”

“I seem to remember you doing several things that you knew you wouldn’t like, just because you were free to do it,” Maura said with a teasing smile, and folded her legs under her on the chair.

“That’s my point.” Calla threw a plastic teaspoon at her. “You’re free to explore, and then free to decide to never do it again, thank god. The in-between is just growth.”

“Is this lunch or a reading?” Ronan groused.

“I can still read people, Snake.” Calla grinned at him, in an uncharacteristically good mood; which meant she was still a pain in the ass, she just did it with a smile on her face.

With clunking steps meant to announce her arrival, Orla came down the stairs, trailing the smell of summer flowers and sunscreen. “There are my favourite lover boys!” She cried when she saw them, and Ronan would have laughed at the way Adam grew rigid, if it hadn’t been for the fact he did the same. “How have you been?!” She floated behind Adam where he sat and ruffled his hair, pressing a smacking kiss to his forehead. She went to do the same to Ronan, but when he grumbled and swore, and swatted her away she just launched at him and enveloped him in a hug instead. Adam laughed loud and bright at the look of outrage on his face.

“You look ridiculous,” Ronan growled, and she finally released him. Her crop top was almost neon pink and her shorts looked like they’d been through a paper shredder. Blue could roll her eyes at her cousin all she liked but they were not totally dissimilar. Orla just laughed, a tinkling thing, and sat down to grab a grapefruit. She passed her pith to Opal, who rewarded her with a toothy smile.

When they left it was later than they had counted on, the sunlight already turning orange, but they would have enough hours of daylight to at least make it to the next town over.

Maura framed Adam’s face with her hands for a brief second, looked between them and said, “Be safe.”

“You’d know if we weren’t,” Adam said immediately, and Maura cheerily hummed in a maybe fashion.

“Remember, do everything I would do,” Calla called to them from the door.

When they were in the BMW again and Ronan pulled onto the road, he turned to Adam and said, “There is no fucking way we’re doing everything she would do.” They left Henrietta on the sound of Adam’s laughter.

…………………………..

Apart from Gansey family functions, Ronan knew Adam had never really been anywhere outside their poky town. This was a first for him, an exercise in autonomy. They stayed in barely-there little towns, crashing at a motel late at night then exploring in the morning, setting off again in the afternoon. They didn’t have a list of sights to see; if they happened upon something then so be it. The point was movement; feeling the rubber band that kept them tied to Henrietta stretch and stretch and wondering at what point it would snap.

Being outside Henrietta was odd. The town ebbed and flowed around them. It was easy to be there. They’d been gone three days and already it was like the outside world was trying to remould them.

They didn’t hold hands if they could be seen, always sat opposite each other at a diner or café. Ronan found himself readying to throw his arm around Adam’s shoulders as they walked together, and had to hold himself back. If they could they would get rooms with two doubles and let one go unused; if they couldn’t, Adam would push two single beds together and they’d deal with the dip in the middle.

Ronan was tempted to challenge people, to order a room with one bed, to reach across the space between them and cup Adam’s cheek, kiss him for all to see. But things like that weren’t neutral when it was two young men, even if they should have been. They weren’t on this trip to fist fight their way across America. It was just about them, and they didn’t want to risk anyone else sticking their nose in.

It wasn’t bad, if you didn’t dwell on it. They knew who they were and knew what they had and it was good. Being selective about showing that was a compromise they made to keep this little road trip the way they wanted it.

It didn’t stop them from kissing in the car before they left town, or losing themselves in each other in the middle of the night. There was nothing ambiguous about one bed rumpled and one left untouched.

…………………………..

“Enjoy, honey,” their waitress said to Adam, setting a vanilla milkshake in front of him. She smiled at him, a smile that grew a little tight when she directed it at Ronan, but she did her best.

“I hate that,” Adam said quietly, as they hoed into their eggs.

“Hate what?” Ronan knew what, but Adam’s words invited the question.

“The way they look at you. Like you’re no good.” Adam ate his egg and bacon with prejudice – cutlery squeaking against the ceramic – staring furiously into the middle space like he was imagining his retribution. If he hadn’t been so serious, Ronan might have laughed at his expression, the perfect righteous outrage.

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Ronan said instead, “that’s kind of what I’m going for.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no shit. I just…”

“You just?” Ronan prompted, as Adam massacred another fried tomato with his fork.

Adam shook his head. “I just wish they didn’t look at you like that, is all.”

Ronan felt something warm curl in his chest and seize him tightly. He remembered how Henry had told him weeks before how hard Adam had blushed when he’d called Ronan his boyfriend in front of them, while Ronan wasn’t there. Henry had pressed a hand to his own grin as he said how pleased Adam seemed about the word.

“I don’t want people to know me the way you know me,” Ronan said, hands gone still over his plate.

Adam sighed. “I know. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like that about us. It’s just, when other people meet you– Their first impression isn’t true. Justified, because you insist on being the maximum amount of asshole you can and dressing like a punk, but it’s not accurate. They shouldn’t write you off like that.” The idea that Adam was proud to be with him still twisted Ronan’s head from time to time, feeling impossible. If he allowed himself to believe it, though, he could see why it might be infuriating to have strangers turn a nose up at someone you cherished.

Ronan reached under the table and put a hand on Adam’s knee. “I don’t give a shit what they think, Parrish. So long as you know.”

Adam smiled sadly. “I do.”

“Good.”

They ate and talked about the small stuff; how many of their friends were actually sleeping together, whether Opal and Gwenllian were getting along, getting Adam’s car certified roadworthy before he started semester.

In the end, Adam slurped the dregs of his milkshake so loud and so obnoxiously that by the time they left, they were both receiving reproachful looks, anyway.

……………………………………….

What Ronan couldn’t say in that conversation, was that people weren’t just looking at him and making a hard judgement, they were looking at him next to Adam.

In black head to toe, tattooed talons and feathers stretching over his neck and shoulders, cold eyes and a whip sharp smile, Ronan was about as far away from the picture of provincial quaintness some of these towns distilled. He was hazardous, the sort of thing a local sheriff on his coffee break would spin around in his chair just to monitor.

That was one thing, to look like trouble personified.

It was a whole other thing to be the trouble that trailed behind a boy who looked like the goddamn American dream.

Adam passed through these towns like their patron saint, a blue-jeaned, blonde-haired vision of youth. Strangers were helpless but to like him, to offer him a free piece of pie with coffee, wish him well and actually mean it. Adam had asked if there was magic anywhere else, but as the days wore on Ronan wondered if he hadn’t just brought it with him.

The people they passed saw Adam and were struck with an instant loyalty, the kind he never got in Henrietta outside of their little group. Ronan couldn’t blame them, knew from experience the futility of resisting that pull. But then they saw Ronan, violence holding his head up and keeping his shoulders back, and their reproachful looks weren’t just a go away, but a get away from him. Like Adam was shiny chrome and Ronan was corrosive against him.

But Ronan didn’t think it would help Adam’s ire to point it out, that part of people’s prejudice was the contrast between the two of them.

Instead, at night, he would reach across the shitty motel bed and pull a sleepy Adam into his chest. They would wake up overwarm and uncomfortable, but the moment where they caught each other’s eye was worth it a thousand times over.

…………………………………….

Days passed in the lazy way that summer had perfected. When Adam drove, Ronan would look at him for long seconds, the scenery outside flying by so fast that Adam was the only thing in focus. They’d talk about nonsense; how to hypothetically kidnap a polar bear, how many presidents drew dicks on their high school tables, who was the victor between pizza and burritos. Being able to voice all their most half-brained ridiculous ideas to each other was an intimacy that they’d had long before they got together, and it hadn’t changed.

They’d been away ten days when Adam, one hand steady on the wheel, used the other to fling a Skittle in the air and catch it in his mouth. “I’ve never been more attracted to you than I am right now,” Ronan said emphatically, and Adam’s laughter rippled through him like magic.

In a town whose beginning was an idyllic bubbling stream with a white bridge, they stopped for gas and to stock up on snacks. When Ronan came out of the gas station he saw Adam jogging back towards him from across the road. “What the hell Par–“ Adam stopped in front of him and, like a sneak attack, stuck a pink carnation behind Ronan’s ear. Sputtering, Ronan looked back across the street to see an old lady at a flower stand waving cheerily at them.

He looked back at Adam in surprise.

“It’s alright,” Adam said as he laughed, “we were chatting and she has a wife. I told her about you.”

Ronan rolled his eyes and dipped his chin at the woman. “You’re an idiot,” he grumbled, and Adam’s smile grew. Ronan stuck the carnation into the disc slot of his car stereo and that’s where it stayed.

…………………………………….

They had a fight about money at 2:00am outside the diner where they’d just eaten. The inevitability of this exact argument made them tired of it from the outset. Ronan paid for dinner like he’d done the majority of times this trip and Adam glared daggers at him and stormed outside.

Ronan didn’t do it to have power over him. He didn’t do it to show off or even because he thought Adam couldn’t pay. He did it for expediency, because it was less awkward than divvying up a bill. He did it because he knew that Adam would pay him back, would make sure they were as equal as possible. He said as much.

But Adam didn’t want to feel like he was kept, said that’s exactly how it made him feel. If this whole trip was meant to be about freedom then he should pay his way. Just because they were dating didn’t give Ronan an excuse to take everything over. He didn’t need anybody to take care of him.

“It doesn’t work like that,” Ronan was yelling and he hated it. “You can’t be in a relationship and not need anybody at the same time!”

“Why not?!” Adam was nearly shaking.

“Because I fucking need you!” It slipped out, and Adam stared at him with wide eyes. “Don’t you get it? I could pay for this whole damn trip and it still wouldn’t mean that you need me more than I need you.”

Adam let out a breath like it’d been punched out of him. Ronan looked out over the carpark, hands in fists at his sides and his whole body rigid. Inside him everything stormed, the feeling he’d given something away he couldn’t get back. Adam waited him out, and Ronan didn’t know if he was silent because he didn’t know how to help or because he had nothing to say. After a few minutes, Ronan’s hands unclenched and he walked slowly over to the car, Adam following carefully behind.

They were tired and hurt when they got back to the motel, their room presenting them with two beds, one rumpled, one pristine. Adam looked uncertainly between the two and Ronan sighed, kicked off his shoes, and held his hand out to him. Adam’s whole body seemed to deflate in relief, and his eyes were shiny when he took Ronan’s hand carefully. They climbed into the same bed, still in their clothes, hands clasped but a cautious valley of space between them.

Ronan was at the very edge of sleep when it changed. “Don’t let me fuck this up,” Adam whispered to him in the dark, voice breaking. In a heartbeat Ronan was reaching out and pulling him into his body, pressing kisses to his brow as Adam shook against him, until they slept.

…………………………………….

They were driving along a highway when the forest either side began to look wonderfully, reminiscently like Cabeswater. Ronan pulled the car over into the dirt and they climbed out, making their way into the trees. It was a stupid thing to do, go wandering in unfamiliar forestland without having told anyone they were doing so, but they’d done worse. Would probably do so again.

It wasn’t Cabeswater, of course. The trees didn’t speak Latin. It didn’t play music for them, and the sun in the sky continued to arc along its usual path. But the shade of green was just right, the dewy smell sharp and vivid, and every now and again a tree had the audacity to look familiar. It wasn’t magic but it cast a spell nonetheless, drawn from memories and longing. It was dusk when they found their way back to the car.

The next day, Adam bought a West Virginia road map from the corner store of whatever town they were in now, took a black marker and drew a circle around the patch of land that illustrated that forest. He grinned at Ronan with the pen cap still in his mouth, map spread out over the dash, and his eyes looked like adventure.

…………………………………….

The thing that they had neglected to do was inform their friends that they weren’t still in Henrietta. “Where the devil are you, Ronan?” Gansey said to him frantically through the phone, the phone that Ronan had only just powered on, after it had been dead for three days, and had immediately started ringing.

“Calm down, Dick, we’re… Adam where the fuck are we?”

Adam came out of the bathroom of their shitty motel room, towel around his hips and hair dripping. He reached out for the phone and put it on speaker when Ronan handed it over. “Hey Gans, how’s it going?” he said cheerily, and Ronan grinned at him.

“It was going spectacularly until we discovered your absence. We’re in Henrietta, where are you?”

“Hi guys!” They heard Henry yell in the background.

“Hi!” Adam chuckled. “Glad you guys got back safe.”

“Yeah and no chewing us out for not communicating when you assholes didn’t tell us when you’d be back,” Ronan groused. He was anxious to see Gansey and the others, and if he covered it with irritation that was his prerogative.

“Point,” a voice that was obviously Blue’s said. “Greetings, by the way. Or whatever.”

“Hey, Blue. Look we’ve been doing a loop around the state, we shouldn’t be more than half a day’s drive away. You want us to come back?” At this Adam looked at Ronan a little hesitantly, half asking him, as well, if that was alright. Ronan, caught between his want to see the others, his want to stay on the road with Adam, and his want to end the phone call immediately and do something about Adam’s state of undress, didn’t know how to reply.

“What? No,” Blue said, “Don’t cut your trip short for us.”

“Well this thing doesn’t exactly have a projected end point, apart from college in two weeks,” Adam said.

“We can come to you!” Gansey exclaimed, and Ronan had the ridiculous image of a light bulb lighting up above Gansey’s head, his index finger pointing skywards. “If that’s alright. We have no plans.”

Adam looked at him, and raised his eyebrows in silent question. Ronan was still struggling a little too much with the path a droplet of water was making down Adam’s chest, but he collected himself and nodded. He really did want to see them.

“That’d be great, guys. We’ll meet in the middle, I’ll text you the details.” He hung up to a chorus of delighted whooping. Adam got busy on the phone, looking up where they actually were, sending a screenshot to Gansey, then seeing what was further down the road, looking for a diner or something.

Ronan came up behind him and pressed his cheek to the side of Adam’s head, uncaring for his wet hair. Adam’s thumb paused on the screen but took up their work again in a moment. Smiling small, Ronan nudged the edge of Adam’s ear with his nose, and brought his lips down to Adam’s neck. The kisses he pressed there were light, but full of intent. He brought a hand up to his waist and Adam’s hands went totally still.

“Check out is at ten, Ro,” he said, but his voice came out teasing.

Ronan hummed. “You think they’re gonna kick us out?”

Adam turned to face him, hooking a finger into a belt loop of Ronan’s black jeans. “They can try. I’m almost sure I don’t care,” he said, and began back-stepping towards the bed.

They had to pause half way through making out for Adam to send Gansey the details of where to meet, but then Ronan was being pressed into the mattress and things outside of that room quickly stopped mattering.

They checked out of the dicey little motel at 10:04, and Adam joked that Ronan’s perpetual scowl scared the guy out of asking for the late fee. Ronan was pretty sure it was the hickey poking out of his t-shirt, though.

…………………………………….

Ronan laughed when he pulled up to the address Adam had been directing him towards for the last few hours. The pizza place was nondescript, but managed it in eerily the same way that Nino’s managed it back home. Neon lights in pink and blue to match the setting sky. Adam grinned at him from the passenger seat.

They were sitting at a booth by the window when the bell chimed and Richard Gansey III practically ran inside. At the sight of him, Ronan could practically feel his brain cross out one of the items on his long list of worries. They stood to greet him and Gansey hugged them each, first Ronan then Adam then Ronan again, like he couldn’t give enough affection to both of them at the same time. Blue and Henry were right behind, smiling wide and bright. Henry gave Adam a brief hug, but at some indefinable time Ronan and Henry had invented a secret handshake, which they performed with excess concentration while Adam and Blue embraced.

The most typifying greeting was Ronan and Blue. She went in for a hug but was lifted off her feet up to Ronan’s full height, a power move that earned from her a cry of indignation. Blue did a complicated twist that ended up with Ronan’s head under her arm, trapped in a headlock as her feet touched the ground again, the knuckles of her other hand scrabbling viciously over his buzzcut. Ronan growled and poked her in her sides, Blue releasing him with a yelp.

The worker at the counter shook his head at them judgementally while they laughed their asses off. Everyone except Gansey, who had a hand on his chest and was looking at them like he was lit up from the inside.

“Are you crying?” Blue asked him, a delighted, wicked grin on her face.

“No,” he said, but no one was convinced.

……………………………………

They ate a disgusting amount of pizza, as the trio offloaded weeks’ worth of stories from their intrepid adventures. Rainforests and ancient ruins and street food of ever increasing unfamiliarity.

Even though one of them was missing, Noah’s soft smile and chuckling palpably gone in a way they couldn’t help, it was nice.

In Brazil, Henry had swallowed a bug and insisted they go to an emergency room, sticking to the story that he’d felt like he was dying even when he was discharged after a fifteen minute consult. The irony of it being ‘He of the RoboBee’ to swallow a flying insect was not lost.

One of Gansey’s nebulous academic friends showed them around a dig site in Peru, and Blue began sarcastically calling Gansey ‘Indie’ half way through the story. Ronan began to use it as well, with as much glee as you can convey through a scowl, ensuring that it stuck, much to Gansey’s embarrassment.

“At least I wasn’t the one that tried to covertly adopt a two-toed sloth,” Gansey shot back.

Blue gasped at him. “They’re tired all the time and hang out in trees. We are obviously family, I was obliged to claim them as my children.”

Everything they said was halfway to absurd, and Ronan, even as he teased and snapped out jokes only just on the right side of derisive, was quietly glad out of his mind that they’d had a good time and were home safe.

“And how are you guys?” Henry asked them excitedly.

Adam glanced at him, looking away with a smile that Ronan hesitated to call bashful, but damn, it came close. “We’re good,” Adam said, “It’s been a really good few weeks.” He leaned back into where Ronan’s arm was strewn across his shoulder, eyes heavy and tired, but mouth upturned. Ronan wanted to take a photograph of him in that moment. All three of the faces opposite them softened and it suddenly became unbearable.

“I mean we’re alive so that’s a plus,” Ronan said, draining his coke.

………………………………..

They stayed until the middle of the night, then drove, the BMW leading the Camaro, to the motel down the road. They got one room together, two big beds, the trio piled into one and Ronan and Adam in the other. There was something about falling asleep in the same room as your closest friends that turned the world the right way up again.

“Do you want to go back tomorrow?” Adam whispered into his throat, as the others were mumbling amongst themselves.

Ronan thought about it, thought about the last few weeks with just the two of them. At the same time that he wanted more of it, more of Adam and their dumb fights and their eclipsing kisses, he realised that things were profoundly, deeply good. Good in a way that he was confident wouldn’t end when they went back home or when Adam moved to his college dorm. “Up to you,” he said easily, and meant it.

Adam hummed. “Let’s decide tomorrow.”

………………………………

(Gansey, Blue, and Henry drove back to town late the next day, but Ronan and Adam stayed on the road for another week. Not going anywhere in particular, just holding each other’s space. Sending stupid photos of each other back to the rest of the gang, bickering about who got to drive, adding more flowers to the disc slot on Ronan’s stereo.

When they got back, Orla poked at the skin under Ronan’s tired eyes. “They’re a better blue when you’re happy.” He swatted her away but didn’t contradict her.

Opal placed a newspaper crown on Adam’s head, and he rolled his eyes at Blue’s ‘king of the road’ joke.

They still had a little time before semester started, and they’d fill it well, the group of them.

But the three weeks spent in aimless, wandering abandon with Adam, navigating the seas of each other’s moods and the curious stares of others, were perfect.

“We’ll do this again,” Adam said, as they crossed the Henrietta town line. “As soon as I’m on break we should disappear again.”

Ronan found his hand, clasped it tightly. “Anytime.”)

#pynchweek #pynchweek17 #the raven cycle #pynch #fic #my fic

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joeybelle · 7 years

Text

Starlight - Chapter 12

Relationship: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Tags: Pre-Rogue One, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Foul Language

For the next few days she avoided Cassian like the plague, which wasn’t so hard to do since he was nowhere to be seen. Once or twice, she even feared he might have died from his concussion, but then she remembered that he had a thick skull, both literally and figuratively, so he was probably fine.

Both Doctor Crane and Lewella had relentlessly made fun of her for being locked in a maintenance closet, but luckily they didn’t know the whole story. She had no idea what they would say if they knew about the kiss, but she imagined Lewella would laugh her ass off before teasing her for the rest of her life, so she kept her mouth shut, smiling and accepting the current jokes, knowing it could be much, much worse. Even after almost a week had passed since ‘the incident’, Cora still had no idea how to feel about it.

She was lucky that the med bay had been busier than usual so she didn’t have much time to socialize. She didn’t know yet how awkward her meetings with Aidan would be now that he had voiced his intentions, so she was grateful for at least a few days in which they didn’t have to interact outside the workplace. She had a lot of things to deal with, and in her usual fashion, ignored them all.

Leaving work at 2 am when she had another shift starting early in the morning wasn’t something that unusual, but lately it had become the norm and she was starting to feel exhausted.

The underground level was a lot quieter than the rest of the base, the thick stone walls muffling almost all sound. The air was stagnant in the corridors, the new ventilation system not functional everywhere, most of the underground still relying on the original vents. The corridors were only lit from the elevators to her quarters and to the few storage areas located in the catacombs. The rest was pitch black and empty. Without her there, even the prison was deserted. It was a stark contrast to the crowded base above and Cora was thankful for the peace and quiet.

When her ears got used to the silence, she started noticing an unusual humming sound in the distance. It seemed to be coming from deeper in the catacombs, which wasn’t right, there wasn’t supposed to be anything there to make noise. She wondered if maybe there was someone working late in storage, but the sound didn’t come from the right direction.

Intrigued, she headed deeper in the catacombs for as long as she had light. Listening closely, it almost sounded like… music? There was no way someone was playing music in the temple’s underground levels. There was no one living down there and it was way too late for anyone to be working.

Curiosity got the best of her, so she turned on the small pocket light she always carried around and cautiously advanced into the unknown. She tried making as little sound as possible, letting the distant music guide her steps. It was possible that the fatigue was making the pursuit a lot more thrilling than it was, but Cora’s heart had started to beat rapidly. It was fun. She felt like a kid again, exploring the narrow vents on a star destroyer. Not even for a moment did she think that she may get lost without a way to contact anyone who could get her out. Right now, all that mattered was solving the mystery.

From time to time she had to stop and listen carefully, trying to head in the right direction. Sometimes, the corridors seemed to turn away from the sound, but it was getting louder, so she knew she was getting closer. She went down a set of stairs and couldn’t help but wonder just how deep the whole construction went. She made a mental note to ask someone about the history of the place one day.

It was definitely music. When she was close enough that she could make out the lyrics she stopped. She could hear people talking and laughing. It seemed like there was some gathering taking place deep in the catacombs. Music, laughter and probably drinks. She didn’t have to go any further and accidentally crash their party to prove her theory right. So she turned around, wanting to return to her quarters as quickly as possible because she had already wasted enough time, and crashed into someone.

“Whoa, there!” he said, catching her by the shoulders, steadying her before she face-planted. “Who are you?” He turned on a flashlight and shone it into her eyes for a few seconds before turning it off again. “Oh! You’re the new doctor!” he exclaimed, seeming a little amused.

Cora blinked a few times, her eyes hurting from the sudden exposure to light. “I’ve been here for a while now, why am I still ‘the new doctor’?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes vigorously. She couldn't see who she was talking to, but his voice was unfamiliar.

“Cause I haven’t met you yet,” he laughed. “Sergeant Ruescott Melshi, but call me Melshi.”

Nope, she didn’t know him. “Cora Enoch.”

“Now let’s hurry and get a drink before the bastards finish everything.” He placed a hand on her back trying to gently push her towards where the music was coming from. Cora was taken by surprise, so she took a few steps before stopping again.

“Umm…” She tried brushing off his hand. “I’m not coming, I’m sorry. I just heard the music and I was curious what it was, but I found out, so I’m turning back now…”

“Well, you’re already here, so why not come inside? This is the best makeshift bar in the whole base, after all,” he bragged.

“Ah, no thanks. I have an early shift tomorrow and I should be sleeping. Thank you for the invitation though,” she said, taking a step back, but he cut her off.

“Just one drink, Doctor. It will help you sleep better,” he didn’t give up and his insistence was starting to get a little irritating.

“I really shouldn’t…” she tried excusing herself, as politely as she could.

“You’re not getting away until you have at least one drink with us.”

“Why do you keep insisting?” she finally snapped.

“In case you get the idea of reporting us for drinking on base, I have to make sure you’ll go down with us.” His voice sounded a little ominous, but then he started laughing once again. “Don’t worry Doc, we don’t bite. Plus you already know some of us.”

Ok, that made sense. Sort of. She knew that drinking was restricted on the base, but she also knew that no one respected that rule, on the contrary, seeing how many hangovers she had to treat weekly. She had no intention to report anyone, they were free to do whatever they wanted in the end, but she understood his concerns so she stopped resisting and followed him down the dark corridor.

Light was pouring out of an open door, her flashlight suddenly useless. Her eyes had time to adjust to the brightness, so when she stepped into the well lit room she wasn’t blinded. It was a medium sized room, carved in stone like the rest of the ones Cora had seen in the catacombs. To the side there was a raised stone structure that, from the stools around it, she assumed they were using as a bar. There was an old jukebox in a corner, blaring some crappy galactic pop. There were a few tables and chairs scattered around the room, with most people crowded around one in the back. Every piece of furniture seemed to have been taken from the things no one needed in storage, pretty much like the ones in her room. There were no two tables looking the same, and everything looked improvised, from the bar stools to the lighting fixtures on the walls.

Melshi greeted a couple of people sitting at a table by the door then guided her towards the bar. Cora awkwardly climbed onto a stool, and propped her elbows on the stone table.

“So, what can I get you, miss?” he winked and went around the bar.

“What are my options?” she asked smiling. She had no plans to drink tonight, but she guessed she had to oblige just this once. If she was already here she could at least enjoy it.

“Well,” he said, looking under the bar, “we have jet juice…” He took out a bottle of liqueur of dubious origin and put it in front of her. “And slightly shittier jet juice.” The second bottle looked a little murkier than the first, and Cora looked at it suspiciously.

“I think I’ll take the jet juice,” she said, suddenly not so convinced that this was a good idea.

“Excellent choice, Doctor. You seem to have good taste in drinks.”

He started pouring a copious amount of liquor from the first bottle into two standard metal cups and offered one to Cora. She tentatively took it and even though she knew it was not the most polite thing to do, she took a whiff. It smelled horrible. She had only heard about jet juice since she came to Yavin IV, but she never imagined it would actually smell like it had been brewed inside an engine.

“Is it your first time?” he asked, amused, pointing at her drink.

“Yeah…” she grimaced.

The crowd in the back of the room erupted in a fit of laughter and Cora turned her head to look. They were playing some sort of game and someone seemed to be on a winning streak. Her heart jumped out of her chest when she noticed Cassian at the edge of the crowd, arms crossed over his chest, laughing wholeheartedly. Shit. The one person she didn’t expect to see in the middle of a dive bar and really really wanted to avoid was just standing there, looking better than ever.

She took the metal cup to her lips and took a big gulp, ignoring the pungent taste, trying to drink it as fast as possible and be gone before he noticed her.

“Whoa, slow down Doc, you need to take your time and enjoy the wretched aroma…” Melshi laughed at her efforts, but Cora didn’t listen.

“No, sorry, early shift tomorrow, gotta go,” she babbled, downing the rest of the drink in one big gulp feeling it burn her throat. She would have to explain to Doctor Crane tomorrow why she needed an esophagus transplant.

“Cora!” she heard Lewella’s voice booming over the cacophony of sounds in the room. Cora groaned audibly, as almost everyone turned around to look at her. So much for leaving unnoticed.

Lewella emerged from the crowd and joined her at the bar, a similar metal cup in her hand. “I’ve been trying to convince you to come with me for weeks and you kept declining and now I see you with Melshi?” she whined, resting a hand on Cora’s shoulder. “I’m hurt you know…”

“She came on her own,” Melshi clarified. “I found her lurking in the shadows.”

“Yeah he kidnapped me. I would have never came here on my own accord,” she assured her, smiling. “I see you’re free tomorrow?” Cora asked eyeing Lewella’s already empty cup, thinking of the horrible shift she had the next day. She was already starting to feel the alcohol going to her head.

“No, I’m leaving in a few hours, whenever your favorite general decides to ship us.”

Cora raised an eyebrow. She tried not to judge people and their choices, but she couldn’t help but feel a little worried. She knew that you needed to be alert and well rested during missions and alcohol combined with little to no sleep was a recipe for disaster.

“Oh stop being the mom friend,” Lewella said, noticing her expression. “I’m going to bed in five minutes.”

“Yeah, me too. I have a shift tomorrow morning.” Cora tried getting up the stool, but Lewella’s hand pushed her back.

“You know what? You just got here, so why not stay a little while longer? Another drink won’t kill you,” Lewella said, but Cora was convinced of the opposite. “You should meet everyone, make some friends. Sorry that I can’t stay longer to introduce you, but this is your fault for not coming when I invited you. Anyway, I’m leaving you in good hands…” She looked at Melshi, who was grinning and shook her head. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. Andor!” she yelled over the music. “Come here a sec.”

Cora wanted to be able to completely disappear or spontaneously combust or something. Anything, really, just to not have to interact with Cassian. But he had already turned around and was coming towards them. Melshi probably noticed her discomfort because he refilled her cup and pushed it towards her. Cora sent him a thank you smile.

“See my girl here, Andor? You owe her an apology.” Lewella’s hand was around Cora’s shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. “For locking her in a maintenance closet.” Cora felt how her face was reddening. The alcohol was doing a great job on its own and with the added embarrassment Cora feared she’ll be tomato red in no time.

She only had the courage to look at Cassian out of the corner of her eye, but he wasn’t directly looking at her either. He had his arms crossed over his chest and a cheeky grin on his face. The blush and the slightly unfocused gaze could have been an indication that he too had been drinking. Cora took another sip of the foul tasting liquid, trying to swallow the knot that had formed in her throat.

“I have to go now, so I’m leaving her in your care, Andor,” she said, pointing a finger at him. “Make sure she gets back safely and she doesn’t drink too much. If she does, tell Doctor Crane that she’s having a sudden and inexplicable case of veisalgia that has her incapacitated.”

“Oh, no! No no no!” Cora tried protesting, but a dirty look from Lewella silenced her.

“Does she really need a babysitter, though?” he asked, his accent a little more pronounced than usually.

“Of course she doesn’t, but you’ve been an ass so it’s your chance to make it up to her. Plus, I’m not leaving her here completely alone…”

“Wait, am I no one?” Melshi intervened, a little outraged by the assumption.

“You’re shady,” Lewella said, eyeing him sideways and Cora couldn’t help but laugh. He was indeed a little shady.

“And you’re trying to tell me he’s not?” Melshi said, pointing at the captain over the stone table. “He’s the fucking definition of shady!” Cassian was laughing, and Cora wondered if she had ever seen him so at ease around people.

“Yeah, but I know him and he’s harmless. On the other hand, you’re a lot more untrustworthy than you look.”

“You’ve hurt me. Right in the feelings, Lewella,” he said, pouring some liquor into another cup and offering it to Cassian. “And he’s a lot less harmless than you think. Trust me,” he added, before leaving the bar to pass the bottle to someone who was accusing them of hogging the alcohol.

“Alright, I’m going,” Lewella finally said the dreaded words and Cora wanted to latch onto her arm and cry so she wouldn’t leave her alone with Cassian, but that would raise a lot of suspicion and she wasn’t ready to explain. She smiled, stoically, and decided to finish her drink and excuse herself after that. She would survive five minutes in Cassian’s proximity. Probably. Hopefully.

“Stay safe tomorrow,” she told her friend, earning a smile from the Twi’lek.

“I will, don’t worry,” she assured her. “Andor, be nice. See you guys soon!”

As soon as Lewella left the room, Cora once again felt incredibly awkward. She didn’t remember being so antisocial, she used to be quite ok with social gatherings. It looked like the time spent in jail had made her a little more guarded. Or maybe she just felt out of place, surrounded by people that all seemed to know each other pretty well, feeling like she was intruding. The only one she knew, besides Lewella who was gone now, was Cassian and she had no idea how to deal with him right now, so she kept drinking, hoping she wouldn’t become a mopey drunk.

He had climbed on the stool next to her and was resting his elbows on the bar, seeming just as interested in his drink as she was. And probably, feeling just as awkward as she felt. Nonetheless, he was cute. It was unusual seeing him in civilian clothes without all the military insignia. Even though the jacket he was wearing now had the similar Corellian cut as his military one, it make him look more relaxed somehow. Or maybe, it was just the informal setting. She was convinced he never drank unless the job required it and certainly not on base breaking the rules, but it seemed she had been wrong in most of her assumptions. She had judged him by how he behaved at work, but she never thought he may have a private life beyond that, one that she had never been part of.

“I see you haven’t died from your concussion yet, Captain,” Cora finally broke the silence.

His lips curled into a faint smile before he took a sip from his cup. “Disappointed?”

“A little.” She laughed. “I’ll have to admit I would have really loved to be able to say ‘I told you so’.”

“I won’t give you that satisfaction, don’t worry.”

The group in the back erupted in laughter again and Cora remembered the game that Cassian had been watching before he was appointed to be her babysitter.

“What are they playing?” she asked, shifting a little so she could see their table over Cassian’s frame.

“Sabacc,” he said, his face opening into a smile. “Do you know the game?”

“Oh. I’ve heard about it, but I’ve never seen anyone play it.” She tried getting a better look at the table, but the people crowding around it were blocking her view. “Gambling is forbidden in the Imperial army, but I assume a lot of people played anyway.”

“Well, if you decide to come here more often, I can teach you if you want.”

Her heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but he had never offered to meet her in their free time before. He never had lunch with her in the mess hall, never stopped to chat by the coffee machine, hell, he never stopped her in the hallway to ask her how she’d been doing. It may have not been a date, but something as simple as offering to teach her how to play a game felt like something special coming from Cassian. “Unfortunately, I don’t have much time off,” she admitted, and her voice sounded a little sadder than intended.

“That’s because you’re a workaholic. Lewella told me that she’s already invited you a few times and you kept saying no.” Could it be that he sounded a little disappointed, or was her mind playing tricks on her? “I’m surprised Melshi got you to come.”

“Don’t you dare call me a workaholic,” she said, pretending to be offended. “And he didn’t. I heard music so I was curious,” she explained. “He found me and dragged me here. Against my will. We’ve never met before.” She was pretty vehement in making sure that he knew Melshi didn’t just convince her to come. Her alcohol infused brain was starting to slip. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew what it was,” she said, without thinking.

“Why not?” he asked, looking at her curiously.

Cora looked down at her hands. “Because…” She didn’t really know what to say. “I guess I don’t really know anyone here…”

“But you do,” he said, turning around to face her. “You know Lew and you know me. You’ll get to know Melshi whether you like it or not.” Cora laughed. “You know Rodma Maddel, she’s in the intelligence division, she’s been through your questionnaire,” he said pointing at a blonde girl, and Cora cringed remembering the whole ordeal. “Speaking of which, I haven’t heard anything about that seminar yet,” he said, a grin spreading over his face.

Cora groaned. She hoped he had forgotten about that, but she wasn’t that lucky. She took another sip, before straightening her back and trying to look as professional as she could given that she was already tipsy. “Well, Captain, it seems you’re the only one on base who doesn’t know how to put on a condom.” She could hardly contain her laugh. “It wouldn’t be much of a seminar with just the two of us, don’t you think so?” She winked and Cassian shook his head, laughing, the blush on his face accentuating slightly.

“That,” he said, going back to pointing people in the room, “is Corporal Casrich. He’s a bit of a daredevil so you might have treated his injuries a few times.” The corporal was loudly talking to Sergeant Melshi, a little wobbly on his feet. Cora remembered him. She had admitted him a couple of times, but unlike Cassian, he waited patiently in the infirmary to get better.

Cora scanned the room for other familiar faces and stopped when she saw an older bearded man. “I know him. Mefran? I think…”

“Jav Mefran, yes. He helped clear out the jungle when we moved to Yavin.”

“He helped me too, with Ben when I took him out of the dungeons. He knows a lot about jungle habitats.”

“Why did you name a lichen?” he suddenly asked, taking her by surprise.

Cora shrugged. “I’m lonely, I guess.”

The same sad expression she had seen on his face before resurfaced once again. This time, however, it didn’t disappear in a fraction of a second, but persisted for a while, long enough for Cora to convince herself it wasn’t just a figment of her imagination. “You don’t have to be,” he finally said.

She shrugged again, but didn’t know what to say. She knew it was her fault she was being lonely, she should have made an effort to make more friends and interact with them more, but she had been alone for most of her life so she just got used to it. Being lonely seemed to be her default state, and it rarely bothered her.

Melshi had returned behind the bar with a now empty bottle. Unfortunately, he opened a new one and started refilling their cups.

“No no no! It’s enough, I really really have to go now,” she declined the drink, jumping off of the stool.

“But you just came here,” he argued. “And I really didn’t get to know you.”

“I’ll come another time,” she assured him, but Melshi didn’t seem to buy it. “You really think Lew won’t drag me here the next time she’s on base?”

“Ok, then,” he finally gave up. “You’re lucky that you’re a doctor and I don’t want to feel responsible for the people you’ll kill tomorrow. Finish your drink and you’re free to go.”

“I’m not drinking that. You said one drink and that’s the third.” She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest, trying to seem tough, even though it was pretty obvious that she was already tipsy.

“Alcohol is in short supply so we don’t waste it. You can’t leave until your cup is empty.” He was grinning and Cora wanted to strangle him. She looked over to Cassian for help but he was grinning too.

“Those are the rules,” the captain said, bringing his cup to his lips and downing it. He finished the drink without flinching, and Cora looked at him wide eyed, wondering what kind of monster he was to be able to drink that horrible liqueur with a smile on his face.

“It was empty before you refilled it,” she grumbled, pointing an accusing finger at Melshi, who had skipped the cup and was now drinking straight from the bottle.

She didn’t manage to finish her drink as elegantly as Cassian did, but she did her best only to grimace slightly. Finally, she put the empty cup upside down on the stone bar. “I want you to know that I’m blaming you tomorrow for my hangover,” she told Melshi. “Does no one ever want to kill you, because I really want to kill you right now.”

“Some have tried, Doctor, but none has succeeded yet. I’m resilient like that,” he laughed.

“Like a cockroach,” Cassian added, getting off of his stool. “I’m gonna walk you back,” he offered Cora.

“It’s ok, I can go back on my own,” she declined. “You stay here with everyone.” She really didn’t want to be a burden to him, after all he was there to spend time with his friends, not to take care of her. And she certainly didn’t want to be alone with him. She was scared of the awkward silence that would follow.

“Are you sure?” he asked, taking a step towards her, getting dangerously close. “I know you’re good with dark and narrow spaces, but the catacombs are a lot more complex than your vents. How many times have you explored them?”

Through the fog of alcohol that was clouding her mind she realized he was right. She had only found her way here because she was guided by the music, but she had absolutely no idea how to get back. That would have been difficult even if she had been sober, but drunk it was nearly impossible.

“You have a point,” she admitted, a little embarrassed. “I need your help getting back.”

“That’s more like it,” he said, putting a hand on the small of her back. “I’ll be back shortly,” he told Melshi who waved at them.

“Don’t forget me, Cora Enoch,” he yelled when they were almost out the door.

“How could I?” she yelled back. “I’ll have the mother of hangovers to remind me of you.”

She welcomed the darkness. The alcohol had gone to her head faster than she had anticipated, mainly due to her own stupidity, and right now she was sure her face was red and her eyes glassy. Fortunately, she wasn’t drunk enough to lose all self-control or black out in a corner. At least until she was safely in her own bed. She really didn’t want to make a fool of herself in front of Cassian.

She turned on her flashlight seeing as Cassian didn’t seem to have any light. Melshi didn’t use the one he had either when she first saw him, so she had to assume that they could either see in the dark, or they knew the place so well they could easily navigate it. She wondered how many times they met there like that. Daily after work? Weekly? They seemed to know each other pretty well.

“How long have you known these people?” Cora asked, breaking the silence.

“Most of them I’ve known for a while. A few years even,” he said, his voice a little nostalgic. “Some I’ve only met after we moved on Yavin IV. I’ve recruited a few of them over the years.”

“How long have you known Lewella?”

“I’ve probably known her the longest. Both of us have been in the Rebellion for quite some time.”

“She never mentioned you,” she said, without thinking.

“Do you talk about me a lot?” he asked, and Cora didn’t have to see his face to know that he was grinning.

“Actually we don’t,” she admitted, realizing that if she had asked Lewella about him she would have told her. She just lived under the impression that Lew knew him like she seemed to know everyone on base, not that they were actually friends. But how could she have brought him up without raising suspicion?

“But you do think about me,” he said, and Cora was sure she turned a few shades brighter.

“Occasionally,” she admitted, the alcohol making her a little more honest than she would have liked. “When you annoy me,” she added.

“Only when I annoy you?” he asked, and Cora was sure he was referring to the kiss.

“You do annoy me a lot.” She didn’t have the courage to bring it up.

He laughed and it echoed in the dark corridor. She was feeling warm and safe walking alongside him in the narrow space. He was close enough that if she reached out she could grab his hand and pull him even closer. Was she brave enough to make the first move? The alcohol was giving her the perfect excuse, but could she do it?

Before she could make up her mind she started seeing light at the end of the corridor and she knew they were close. She had missed her chance, because she knew she would never be that brave out in the light.

“If you go straight ahead,” he said while they were still surrounded by shadows, “and then left, you’ll reach the elevators. I’ll turn around now.”

Cora nodded and turned off the flashlight, shoving it in her pocket. There was enough light that she could distinguish shapes. She turned around to look at Cassian. He was just standing there looking at her, waiting, as if giving her the chance to stop him from leaving. And she took it, thinking that life’s short and that she’ll hate herself the next day no matter what decision she made.

She grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him closer. That was all he needed. They easily found each other's lips in the dark, crashing into a hurried, yet passionate kiss. Cora snaked her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair, messing it up like she wanted to do so many times before. His hands had found their way underneath her uniform and his fingers were stroking the bare skin on the small of her back, sending shivers down her spine.

He pushed her onto the wall, deepening the kiss. The taste of jet juice didn’t seem so nauseating when it was on his lips, she thought as she let her hands slide down on his chest, unbuttoning his shirt. His lips left hers only to move to kissing down her neck, gently nibbling at the skin from time to time, his stubble pleasantly tickling. His hands had gone up, caressing the skin over her ribs, but never quite touching her breasts, teasing her.

She took his face in her hands, bringing him back up to meet her lips, needing to feel him and taste him. He took his hands from under her tunic and pulled her into an embrace, pressing her to his chest as closely as he could without suffocating her. She grabbed onto his shoulders for support, her knees weak.

She had no idea how much time they spent like that, but time was a distant notion to her. When he finally broke off the kiss, she was feeling lightheaded and flustered.

“I have to go now,” he said, his voice raspy, just as out of breath as she was. “Before they start asking questions.”

“You could stay,” she suggested, her voice low and shaky, but without any doubt in her mind.

He smiled and looked away, then released her from his embrace. Without his arms holding her, Cora struggled to maintain her balance so she took a step back and leaned on the stone wall.

“You have work early in the morning,” he said, not looking at her, more concentrated on buttoning his shirt right. “You need sleep.”

“I don’t care,” she said, not giving up just yet. He laughed, but Cora could see him backing away, and not only physically.

“You’ll regret it tomorrow,” he said, but it was too dark for Cora to make out the look he threw her. She wondered what he referred to when he said she’d regret it: losing a night’s sleep or sleeping with him? “Go get some rest,” he said, before shoving his hands in his pockets and disappearing in the dark.

After a few minutes of silent pondering, Cora realized how much she hated him for leaving her alone in the corridor, horny and drunk, but also how much she wanted him. She slid down the wall and pressed her hands to her face.

“Fuck you, Cassian,” she whispered.

One thing she had been right about: she hated herself in the morning. She also hated Cassian and Melshi, but above it all, she hated herself.

When she got to her room she was sure she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep thanks to the adrenaline running through her veins, but after taking a quick shower, she fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. She woke up with a splitting headache and a very disgruntled stomach. Luckily, she arrived to her shift in time, cursing the gods who had bestowed humanity with the gift of alcohol.

She had spent the whole morning nursing her hangover and yelling at the droids that were making too much noise for her liking. Fortunately for everyone, the med bay hadn’t been very busy that day. She hated herself for not being able to refuse drinking on a work night. The wretched taste of jet juice lingered on her tongue and she was sure she wouldn’t be able to get rid of it unless she gargled disinfectant. Maybe not even so.

But besides the taste of jet juice, the feeling of Cassian’s lips on hers lingered too. When she woke up in the morning she wasn’t sure if it was a dream fueled by alcohol or if it was real. It took her a while to convince herself that it had been in fact real. She should have never kissed anyone while drunk, she told herself. But she knew she wouldn’t have had the courage to do it if she were completely sober. And she wondered if it wasn’t the same for him. She didn’t regret it, though.

Most of the day she just sat at her desk, her hands tightly pressed onto her eyes, hoping that she’d survive her hangover for a few more hours.

“Hello Doc,” she heard a familiar voice greet her and she groaned internally. “Remember me?”

“How could I have forgotten you, Sergeant?” she said, turning around to look at a smiling Melshi. “What can I help you with?”

He lifted his left hand and Cora could see a small drill poking out of it. She sighed. “Prep OR01,” she told a med droid. “Follow me, Sergeant.”

The med droid sat him on the table while Cora put on a surgical gown and a pair of gloves. Taking the drill out of his hand wasn’t a complicated thing, it could have been done in the ER downstairs, but she assumed his main objective was to see her and laugh at her hangover.

“How’s your first real hangover, Doctor?” he asked, proving her right.

“What makes you think that this is ‘my first real hangover’?”

“Because you don’t really experience hangovers to their fullest until you try jet juice.”

“I see,” she smiled. “Well, as you can see, I’ve survived.”

The scanner showed that he had narrowly missed hitting a bone with the drill and there was no nerve damage either. He has been lucky.

“You, on the other hand, or on this hand, nearly drilled into a bone.”

“It can happen to the best of us, isn’t that right, Doc?”

“Especially to those who drink on weeknights,” she scolded him.

“Every night is a weeknight for some of us. You just have to make some time for yourself too. We can’t be working all the time or we’d go mad.” He grinned and Cora feared the worst. “Speaking of which, you and Cassian, eh?”

Cora’s eyes widened. How could he know? There was no way Cassian would have told him, right? She assumed he wasn’t one to kiss and tell, but she may have been wrong. Or maybe he didn’t know, and was making assumptions himself. She was going to deny everything anyway.

“There has to be a verb in there somewhere for it to be a sentence, Sergeant,” she said, while slowly extracting the metal object from his flesh.

“You know what I mean,” he grinned.

“No, I don’t,” she played stupid.

“Do you really want me to say it out loud?” he asked, pointing towards the med droid, who was waiting by the door in case he was needed. Cora wondered if med droids gossiped. She sighed and dismissed it.

“There’s nothing between me and Cassian,” she said, when they were completely alone.

“That’s bullshit.”

“It’s not!”

“Are you trying to tell me that he just walked you to your room, told you good night and left?”

“Pretty much. Minus the good night part, he’s not that polite,” she said, smiling, hoping he’d drop the subject.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t really care if you believe me or not. It’s the truth.”

“He’s not that stupid, you know,” he said, looking at her like he knew something she didn’t. “He’s noticed the way you look at him.”

“What do you mean?” Her heart sank.

He grinned. “You know, out of the corner of your eye, like you’re not really looking, but you are. And he’s noticed.” Cora threw him a disbelieving look. “He has, and he’s doing the same thing. So don’t try to convince me there’s nothing between the two of you.”

“There’s nothing between me and Cassian,” she said in her best poker face.

With the drill extracted, wound cleaned and patched up, he was free to go, and Cora wished to get rid of him as fast as she could. Her heart was beating too fast and she felt she was going to be nauseous again. She promised herself she'd never drink again.

“Thanks for the hand,” he said, before leaving the med bay. “And maybe next time he walks you back to your room you won’t let him leave until he says goodnight. Or good morning, depending…”

“Oh, fuck off before I change my mind and put that drill back!”

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

#cassian andor #cassian andor x original female character #cassian andor x ofc #rogue one #starlight

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mikeyd1986 · 6 years

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MIKEY’S PERSONAL BLOG 127, October 2018

On Monday morning, Mum and I visited the Bayside Specialist Centre located in Patterson Lakes. It’s hard to explain the source of my nervous energy surrounding my first appointment with consultant psychiatrist Dr. Ricardo Peralta. Personally I do have some rational reasons for getting so worried and worked up about it including the whole new experience of seeking psychiatric treatment for my mental disorders and placing my care into that of a stranger. It’s also difficult to know exactly what to expect during the session. https://www.verywellmind.com/before-your-first-visit-380651

Considering I’ve waited over 5 weeks to see him, I’m making it a big priority of mine to get as mentally prepared as possible. Now I’ve only got one more week to wait until I hopefully get the treatment I need. The good news is that, by doing my research first, I’ve avoided some dodgy psychiatrists who shouldn’t be practicing after the reviews I read about them and also a few that charged fees that were very unreasonable. https://www.yourhealthinmind.org/psychiatry-explained/your-first-appointment

In contrast, Dr. Ricardo Peralta seems pretty reliable, decent and professional so I should be fine. I guess the purpose of today was to have a visual sense of where Dr. Peralta’s private psychiatric clinic is located and also have an idea of where to park my car and to access the centre. It did give me some peace of mind as Patterson Lakes is a lovely coastal town and much quieter than the area which I live in. Plus the centre is very close to the local shops, restaurants and cafes so there are plenty of positives to take away. https://nepeanspecialistgroup.com.au/specialists/dr-ricardo-peralta

On Monday night, I went to a Boxing small group training session at CinFull Fitness in Narre Warren South. Tonight was a challenging class for me on a few different levels. Socially it’ll always be difficult for me to fit in, although I did get recognised by a guy named Andrew and briefly chatted to the others. The problem lies in lack of shared interests and being comfortable enough to open up more. Yep that’s 32 years worth of self awareness right there.

My biggest fears often rise to the surface whenever I’m participating in high intensity physical exercise like a boxing class. Will I be able to handle it? Will I be able to keep on top of my fatigue levels? Will I be able to keep concentrating? I’ve had close calls in the past but never once passed out in a class. I think that would be the ultimate fear for me but thankfully Cinamon Guerin is very mindful about this and my limits when it comes to physical activity.

Tonight we did a combination of boxing drills and cardio exercise which required a lot of mental effort and memorisation of combos. I was partnered up with a girl named Jade who seemed to be a beginner like myself. Of course there was lots of squats, push ups, mountain climbers, Russian twists, star jumps, crab walks and wall holds and I can feel the burn pretty quickly. The most important thing is that I’m constantly trying and never giving up, even when I do struggle and need to take a break.

On Tuesday morning, Mum and I drove down to Mornington to visit Mentis Assist, which is an NDIS service provider specialising in mental health. Honestly I really had no clue what to expect out of “dropping in” to the head office but at this point I was out of ideas. It took a lot of courage and effort to come down to see if they could give me a sense of direction with my NDIS plan. I met with Matt who is the NDIS intake co-ordinator and Tracey who is the NDIS Team Leader. They led us into a small office space to have a discussion. https://mentisassist.org.au/get-in-touch/contact-us

Now the nerves were kicking in fast. Luckily I had my purple display folder filled with notes, information brochures, letters and my official NDIS plan so fall back on if I really struggled to express myself. Thankfully both Matt and Tracey were both friendly, casual and accommodating. They didn’t simply put the pressure on me or ask “What Do You Want?” with impossible expectations on me. It’s difficult when you only have a vague idea yourself.

Instead they asked structured questions about things in my life that I may or may not need some assistance with...social skills, decision making, budgeting, mental health support, counselling, group community activities and life skills development. These were some of the important ones for me and my plan did make some degree of sense to them. https://mentisassist.org.au/what-we-do/our-programs

I signed my first ever service agreement with them and it was a surreal moment for me, that I was finally making some progress and getting myself unstuck from the ditch I was in. Compared to last week, I am feeling a lot more hopeful and optimistic about actually doing something with my NDIS plan and funding and also that I’ve chosen my main provider carefully. https://mentisassist.org.au/ndis

On Tuesday afternoon, I caught up with Tori Norris who is the program co-ordinator for the Men of Doveton group. This was pretty confronting territory for me as I don’t usually open up about my feelings and I felt like I needed to in order to gain closure on this issue. The fact that Tori believed that I deserved to graduate the program was a bit unsettling for me and yet I chose to accept her offer. Her motivations were genuine too. Lately I haven’t had much self-belief and so maybe this was what I needed. To show myself that yeah I do deserve to be successful and have good things happen for me.

On Thursday morning, Mum and I attended the NDIS Plan Implementation information session held inside the private function room at Bunjil Place in Narre Warren. I had a lot of expectations leading up to this info session considering how confused, lost and stressed out I’ve been feeling since receiving my first plan. So it was a relief to hear that other participants and carers were voicing similar concerns and frustrations about their own experiences. No longer did I feel alone in this journey and now my feelings can be validated and heard instead of shoved under the carpet. https://www.ndis.gov.au/participants/understanding-your-plan-and-supports.html

Today’s info session was hosted once again by Sharna from the NDIA. She broke the presentation up in two parts. The first half focused on the different sections of the plan as well as the three types of budgets: Core, Capacity Building and Capital and how the funds are managed. In the second half, she talked about the importance of reading the NDIS Price Guide and turning your plan into supports by connecting to providers, negotiating supports, making a service agreement and then making a service booking. https://www.ndis.gov.au/finding-and-engaging-providers.html

Bringing my Mum along felt like a wise decision so that she could be educated about the NDIS system and just how complex it is to understand and learn. Whilst it was unsettling to hear the negative feedback from several people in the room, it was also justified and made me feel like I wasn’t the only one going through these struggles. It was good to note that more changes and a new plan format will be introduced from mid-November so hopefully improvement is on the way and things will eventually get easier for NDIS participants and carers.

It was also great to see Amanda Stapleton (City of Casey counsellor and ex-mayor) was participating in today’s information session and had some valid questions to ask about her own situation. A man named Bruce from Latrobe Community Health Service was also in attendance and did seem to take all of our feedback today seriously. Whilst I’ve had many frustrations and stumbling blocks in the process so far, I’m trying my hardest to be optimistic about the future as an NDIS participant and actually use my funding for positive change.

On Thursday night, I attended my first group sleep study workshop held at La Trobe University - Psychology Clinic in Bundoora. It’s been a couple of weeks since I started my involvement in the sleep research study for Autistic Adults that I’m participating in and now I’ll be starting to learn ways to hopefully improve my sleep. Driving to Bundoora was honestly a headache mainly because I was in the middle of peak hour traffic and also because I accidentally took the wrong exit off the Eastern Freeway but it’s all learning.

It was just a small group of us: three other participants as well as Dr. Lauren Lawson (Research Fellow), Dr. Eric Morris (La Trobe University Psychology Clinic Director) and Alexis (Provisional Psychologist). Firstly, they briefly explained some concepts about sleep including sleep cycles, the stages of sleep, circadian rhythms and arousal. Next we talked about what is insomnia and the ways many people try to fall asleep.

These “amplifiers” include things like taking sleep vitamins, using lavender spray, playing music, reading, listening to a guided meditation. Whilst they make work occasionally, they’re generally not considered long term solutions. We also talked about the costs of insomnia such as having poor concentration and focus, low energy levels, lack of motivation and drive, feeling more irritable and emotional, impacting on your health and wellbeing, preventing you from doing some daily activities and being a burden on your finances.

This lead into Acceptance and Commitment Therapy or simply Acceptance of things like having worrying thoughts and frustrations about trying to fall asleep, letting go of the struggle and essentially letting go of control. We then discussed the barriers to changing your sleep including fear of change, discomfort, uncertainty, being stuck in current habits, having temptations or resistance.

Lastly, we wrote down a few goals that we wish to achieve relating to sleep including to fall asleep faster and stay asleep longer, have a more regular sleep routine, have less disruptions during the night, have more energy during the day, be able to concentrate and focus better, to be more productive and be able to participate more in daily activities, to lower levels of anxiety and depression.

The good thing about this group is that it’s small, casual and allows anyone to contribute their ideas, thoughts and personal experiences related to sleep and insomnia. Whilst I am quite uncertain about this new approach so far, I’m also open to trying it out. At this point, I’ll literally try anything to help me sleep better. It’s affecting my day to day living, brain function, mood and concentration levels. I’m looking forward to the next workshop.

“What you wanted so had to let it go. Brand new day is coming round the bend. Troubles reaching for the end. If you stray from the path my friend, I will pick you up again.” Alex Lloyd - Brand New Day (2006)

“There's always something taking over my mind. I know I'm crazy and I know you know. I trying harder 'cause I love you so. I want to be special. I want to be good. I want to be happy. I know that I should. Sometimes the truth. Is hard to believe. Some of us stay. And some of us leave.” Alex Lloyd - Special (2008)

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readbookywooks · 7 years

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24 It takes a while to explain the situation to Peeta. How Foxface stole the food from the supply pile before I blew it up, how she tried to take enough to stay alive but not enough that anyone would notice it, how she wouldn't question the safety of berries we were preparing to eat ourselves. "I wonder how she found us," says Peeta. "My fault, I guess, if I'm as loud as you say." We were about as hard to follow as a herd of cattle, but I try to be kind. "And she's very clever, Peeta. Well, she was. Until you outfoxed her." "Not on purpose. Doesn't seem fair somehow. I mean, we would have both been dead, too, if she hadn't eaten the berries first." He checks himself. "No, of course, we wouldn't. You recognized them, didn't you?" I give a nod. "We call them nightlock." "Even the name sounds deadly," he says. "I'm sorry, Katniss. I really thought they were the same ones you'd gathered." "Don't apologize. It just means we're one step closer to home, right?" I ask. "I'll get rid of the rest," Peeta says. He gathers up the sheet of blue plastic, careful to trap the berries inside, and goes to toss them into the woods. "Wait!" I cry. I find the leather pouch that belonged to the boy from District 1 and fill it with a few handfuls of berries from the plastic. "If they fooled Foxface, maybe they can fool Cato as well. If he's chasing us or something, we can act like we accidentally drop the pouch and if he eats them - " "Then hello District Twelve," says Peeta. "That's it," I say, securing the pouch to my belt. "He'll know where we are now," says Peeta. "If he was anywhere nearby and saw that hovercraft, he'll know we killed her and come after us." Peeta's right. This could be just the opportunity Cato's been waiting for. But even if we run now, there's the meat to cook and our fire will be another sign of our whereabouts. "Let's make a fire. Right now." I begin to gather branches and brush. "Are you ready to face him?" Peeta asks. "I'm ready to eat. Better to cook our food while we have the chance. If he knows we're here, he knows. But he also knows there's two of us and probably assumes we were hunting Foxface. That means you're recovered. And the fire means we're not hiding, we're inviting him here. Would you show up?" I ask. "Maybe not," he says. Peeta's a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. In no time, I have the rabbits and squirrel roasting, the roots, wrapped in leaves, baking in the coals. We take turns gathering greens and keeping a careful watch for Cato, but as I anticipated, he doesn't make an appearance. When the food's cooked, I pack most of it up, leaving us each a rabbit's leg to eat as we walk. I want to move higher into the woods, climb a good tree, and make camp for the night, but Peeta resists. "I can't climb like you, Katniss, especially with my leg, and I don't think I could ever fall asleep fifty feet above the ground." "It's not safe to stay in the open, Peeta," I say. "Can't we go back to the cave?" he asks. "It's near water and easy to defend." I sigh. Several more hours of walking - or should I say crashing - through the woods to reach an area we'll just have to leave in the morning to hunt. But Peeta doesn't ask for much. He's followed my instructions all day and I'm sure if things were reversed, he wouldn't make me spend the night in a tree. It dawns on me that I haven't been very nice to Peeta today. Nagging him about how loud he was, screaming at him over disappearing. The playful romance we had sustained in the cave has disappeared out in the open, under the hot sun, with the threat of Cato looming over us. Haymitch has probably just about had it with me. And as for the audience. I reach up and give him a kiss. "Sure. Let's go back to the cave." He looks pleased and relieved. "Well, that was easy." I work my arrow out of the oak, careful not to damage the shaft. These arrows are food, safety, and life itself now. We toss a bunch more wood on the fire. It should be sending off smoke for a few more hours, although I doubt Cato assumes anything at this point. When we reach the stream, I see the water has dropped considerably and moves at its old leisurely pace, so I suggest we walk back in it. Peeta's happy to oblige and since he's a lot quieter in water than on land, it's a doubly good idea. It's a long walk back to the cave though, even going downward, even with the rabbit to give us a boost. We're both exhausted by our hike today and still way too underfed. I keep my bow loaded, both for Cato and any fish I might see, but the stream seems strangely empty of creatures. By the time we reach our destination, our feet are dragging and the sun sits low on the horizon. We fill up our water bottles and climb the little slope to our den. It's not much, but out here in the wilderness, it's the closest thing we have to a home. It will be warmer than a tree, too, because it provides some shelter from the wind that has begun to blow steadily in from the west. I set a good dinner out, but halfway through Peeta begins to nod off. After days of inactivity, the hunt has taken its toll. I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I'm so grateful that he's still here, not dead by the stream as I'd thought. So glad that I don't have to face Cato alone. Brutal, bloody Cato who can snap a neck with a twist of his arm, who had the power to overcome Thresh, who has had it out for me since the beginning. He probably has had a special hatred for me ever since I outscored him in training. A boy like Peeta would simply shrug that off. But I have a feeling it drove Cato to distraction. Which is not that hard. I think of his ridiculous reaction to finding the supplies blown up. The others were upset, of course, but he was completely unhinged. I wonder now if Cato might not be entirely sane. The sky lights up with the seal, and I watch Foxface shine in the sky and then disappear from the world forever. He hasn't said it, but I don't think Peeta felt good about killing her, even if it was essential. I can't pretend I'll miss her, but I have to admire her. My guess is if they had given us some sort of test, she would have been the smartest of all the tributes. If, in fact, we had been setting a trap for her, I bet she'd have sensed it and avoided the berries. It was Peeta's own ignorance that brought her down. I've spent so much time making sure I don't underestimate my opponents that I've forgotten it's just as dangerous to overestimate them as well. That brings me back to Cato. But while I think I had a sense of Foxface, who she was and how she operated, he's a little more slippery. Powerful, well trained, but smart? I don't know. Not like she was. And utterly lacking in the control Foxface demonstrated. I believe Cato could easily lose his judgment in a fit of temper. Not that I can feel superior on that point. I think of the moment I sent the arrow flying into the apple in the pig's mouth when I was so enraged. Maybe I do understand Cato better than I think. Despite the fatigue in my body, my mind's alert, so I let Peeta sleep long past our usual switch. In fact, a soft gray day has begun when I shake his shoulder. He looks out, almost in alarm. "I slept the whole night. That's not fair, Katniss, you should have woken me." I stretch and burrow down into the bag. "I'll sleep now. Wake me if anything interesting happens." Apparently nothing does, because when I open my eyes, bright hot afternoon light gleams through the rocks. "Any sign of our friend?" I ask. Peeta shakes his head. "No, he's keeping a disturbingly low profile." "How long do you think we'll have before the Gamemakers drive us together?" I ask. "Well, Foxface died almost a day ago, so there's been plenty of time for the audience to place bets and get bored. I guess it could happen at any moment," says Peeta. "Yeah, I have a feeling today's the day," I say. I sit up and look out at the peaceful terrain. "I wonder how they'll do it." Peeta remains silent. There's not really any good answer. "Well, until they do, no sense in wasting a hunting day. But we should probably eat as much as we can hold just in case we run into trouble," I say. Peeta packs up our gear while I lay out a big meal. The rest of the rabbits, roots, greens, the rolls spread with the last bit of cheese. The only thing I leave in reserve is the squirrel and the apple. By the time we're done, all that's left is a pile of rabbit bones. My hands are greasy, which only adds to my growing feeling of grubbiness. Maybe we don't bathe daily in the Seam, but we keep cleaner than I have of late. Except for my feet, which have walked in the stream, I'm covered in a layer of grime. Leaving the cave has a sense of finality about it. I don't think there will be another night in the arena somehow. One way or the other, dead or alive, I have the feeling I'll escape it today. I give the rocks a pat good-bye and we head down to the stream to wash up. I can feel my skin, itching for the cool water. I may do my hair and braid it back wet. I'm wondering if we might even be able to give our clothes a quick scrub when we reach the stream. Or what used to be the stream. Now there's only a bone-dry bed. I put my hand down to feel it. "Not even a little damp. They must have drained it while we slept," I say. A fear of the cracked tongue, aching body and fuzzy mind brought on by my previous dehydration creeps into my consciousness. Our bottles and skin are fairly full, but with two drinking and this hot sun it won't take long to deplete them. "The lake," says Peeta. "That's where they want us to go." "Maybe the ponds still have some," I say hopefully. "We can check," he says, but he's just humoring me. I'm humoring myself because I know what I'll find when we return to the pond where I soaked my leg. A dusty, gaping mouth of a hole. But we make the trip anyway just to confirm what we already know. "You're right. They're driving us to the lake," I say. Where there's no cover. Where they're guaranteed a bloody fight to the death with nothing to block their view. "Do you want to go straightaway or wait until the water's tapped out?" "Let's go now, while we've had food and rest. Let's just go end this thing," he says. I nod. It's funny. I feel almost as if it's the first day of the Games again. That I'm in the same position. Twenty-one tributes are dead, but I still have yet to kill Cato. And really, wasn't he always the one to kill? Now it seems the other tributes were just minor obstacles, distractions, keeping us from the real battle of the Games. Cato and me. But no, there's the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. "Two against one. Should be a piece of cake," he says. "Next time we eat, it will be in the Capitol," I answer. "You bet it will," he says. We stand there a while, locked in an embrace, feeling each other, the sunlight, the rustle of the leaves at our feet. Then without a word, we break apart and head for the lake. I don't care now that Peeta's footfalls send rodents scurrying, make birds take wing. We have to fight Cato and I'd just as soon do it here as on the plain. But I doubt I'll have that choice. If the Gamemakers want us in the open, then in the open we will be. We stop to rest for a few moments under the tree where the Careers trapped me. The husk of the tracker jacker nest, beaten to a pulp by the heavy rains and dried in the burning sun, confirms the location. I touch it with the tip of my boot, and it dissolves into dust that is quickly carried off by the breeze. I can't help looking up in the tree where Rue secretly perched, waiting to save my life. Tracker jackers. Glimmer's bloated body. The terrifying hallucinations. "Let's move on," I say, wanting to escape the darkness that surrounds this place. Peeta doesn't object. Given our late start to the day, when we reach the plain it's already early evening. There's no sign of Cato. No sign of anything except the gold Cornucopia glowing in the slanting sun rays. Just in case Cato decided to pull a Foxface on us, we circle the Cornucopia to make sure it's empty. Then obediently, as if following instructions, we cross to the lake and fill our water containers. I frown at the shrinking sun. "We don't want to fight him after dark. There's only the one pair of glasses." Peeta carefully squeezes drops of iodine into the water. "Maybe that's what he's waiting for. What do you want to do? Go back to the cave?" "Either that or find a tree. But let's give him another half an hour or so. Then we'll take cover," I answer. We sit by the lake, in full sight. There's no point in hiding now. In the trees at the edge of the plain, I can see the mockingjays flitting about. Bouncing melodies back and forth between them like brightly colored balls. I open my mouth and sing out Rue's four-note run. I can feel them pause curiously at the sound of my voice, listening for more. I repeat the notes in the silence. First one mockingjay trills the tune back, then another. Then the whole world comes alive with the sound. "Just like your father," says Peeta. My fingers find the pin on my shirt. "That's Rue's song," I say. "I think they remember it." The music swells and I recognize the brilliance of it. As the notes overlap, they compliment one another, forming a lovely, unearthly harmony. It was this sound then, thanks to Rue, that sent the orchard workers of District 11 home each night. Does someone start it at quitting time, I wonder, now that she is dead? For a while, I just close my eyes and listen, mesmerized by the beauty of the song. Then something begins to disrupt the music. Runs cut off in jagged, imperfect lines. Dissonant notes intersperse with the melody. The mockingjays' voices rise up in a shrieking cry of alarm. We're on our feet, Peeta wielding his knife, me poised to shoot, when Cato smashes through the trees and bears down on us. He has no spear. In fact, his hands are empty, yet he runs straight for us. My first arrow hits his chest and inexplicably falls aside. "He's got some kind of body armor!" I shout to Peeta. Just in time, too, because Cato is upon us. I brace myself, but he rockets right between us with no attempt to check his speed. I can tell from his panting, the sweat pouring off his purplish face, that he's been running hard a long time. Not toward us. From something. But what? My eyes scan the woods just in time to see the first creature leap onto the plain. As I'm turning away, I see another half dozen join it. Then I am stumbling blindly after Cato with no thought of anything but to save myself.

#HungerGames

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