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#he thoroughly enjoyed a solo swimming outing with me
ryuseipuka · 2 years
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kanata feature scout 2:  “me”, research — chapter 1
this translation was gifted to me by my dear friend, @greeneyedexecutioner! it's always a joy to work together; thank you for such a wonderful translation! i hope everyone can also enjoy this adorable story below!
Season: Winter
Location: Aoumi Aquarium
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Kanata: Hey-ho, hey-ho, cleaning up, cleaning up… … ♪
Souma: Shinkai-dono! The floor of the exhibition ‘eria’ has been completely cleaned. Is there anywhere else you would like me to start cleaning next?
Tetora: Shinkai-senpai, the stairs have been thoroughly swept from top to bottom ♪ I wanna know the location of the next place that requires cleaning too!
Kanata: Both Souma and Tetora are such ‘diligent workers’~
It is all thanks to the help given by the both of you, that I will be able to save greatly on the ‘labor costs’... … ♪
Souma: No, do not mention it. If anything, we would like to express our gratitude to Shinkai-dono for rallying us to your side. I hope that you will continue to request for assistance whenever you have such need, whether it be for cleaning, or for any kind of menial chores.
Tetora: That’s right. I’ve had the privilege of chowing down on so many yummy fish dishes thanks to you; so I wanna repay you by working as hard as I possibly can!
The fish that’s prepared by Shinkai-senpai is always delicious, but even then, the last dish we had really went above and beyond that~
Kanata: Fufu. Whenever I see the both of you enjoying your food with so much excitement, I am really happy too…
There was never a need for ‘thanks’ or anything like that, though. That is why, I feel sorry for having asked you to ‘help out’ so early in the morning, too, you know?
Tetora: No, no. It’s actually real enjoyable to be able to view the fish so leisurely when there’s no one else around~ ♪
Souma: Umu. I hope you will continue to call on me whenever there is a need. I am sure that all the experience accumulated from my time in the Marine Biology Club will definitely be of great service to you ♪
Kanata: Both of you are so~ dependable. Well then, I’ll be taking you up on your generous offer next time… … ♪
For now, as much as I would like to ask for your help in ‘sweeping’ the ‘entrance’—
Are the both of you really fine with having to work here at this hour?
Souma: It is not a problem for me, since all my ‘ressuns’ for today are scheduled in the afternoon.
Tetora: Me too; The work I’ve got today is… … AH!
Speaking of work, there’s something that I’ve been wanting to ask Shinkai-senpai!
Kanata: ? Something that you have been wanting to ask?
Tetora: A little bird told me that Senpai’s going to be performing in a Solo Live. Midori-kun and Shinobu-kun don’t seem to know anything about it though, so I’ve been wondering if what I’ve heard was true.
Kanata: A ‘Solo Live’... …?
Aah~, you must be referring to the ‘Feature Live’.
Souma: “Fui—cha— Raibu”?
Kanata: I have only just heard about it from Anzu-san myself, so I have not had the chance to tell anyone in my ‘unit’ about it yet…
But, it is true; I will be appearing in a ‘Feature Live’.
This ‘Feature Live’ is a ‘live performance’ where ‘idols’ will perform as ‘solo artists’... …
I have also heard something about a photoshoot for a ‘pamphlet’ that will be used during the ‘Live’.
Tetora: Ehhh~ a pamphlet! Have you decided on the kind of photos that you’ll be taking yet?
Kanata: Ur~m. I have not gotten that far yet. It appears that if there is a certain photograph that you want to take, or a special place that you want to go, they will listen to your ‘requests’.
If I could go and ‘puka, puka’ in the ‘sea’, I would like that very much, I am sure… … ♪
Tetora: EHHH! It isn’t a good idea to go swimming in the ocean in the dead of winter right now! Morisawa-senpai has also told you never to go bathing outdoors in the winter; he’s gonna get mad at you if you do, you know~?
Souma: Umu. You will definitely catch a cold in doing so; I would have you refrain from embarking on such a course of action, too!
Kanata: … … Mu~. Well then, I would need the both of you to come up with alternative ideas for my photoshoot, please!
What kind of photos would be suitable to be used in this ‘pamphlet’?
Souma: Photos of Shinkai-dono, correct? U~mu~... …
Tetora: U~myu~... …
Ah~! Shinkai-senpai had that ‘Shuffle Unit’ performance earlier in… …uh, what was that program called again—
Kanata: Are you talking about ‘DJ Classics-kun’? [1]
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Tetora: That’s right, that’s the one! Shinkai-senpai’s performance in that program left a really deep impression on me… …
I guess it must be ‘cause I’m so used to seeing you as you usually are in Ryuseitai? That’s why seeing your performance in the ‘Shuffle Unit’ came as such a breath of fresh air to me~ ♪
Souma: Hmmm. I have not had a chance to view that performance myself, but I do look forward to seeing how it differs from Shinkai-dono’s usual appearance… … ♪
Now that I think back on it, when Hasumi-dono participated in his ‘Shyafuru Yunitto’, I did behold a totally different impression from how he usually is in AKATSUKI.
Kanata: That was the one that Midori ‘participated’ in, right? Midori looked so wonderful when he was in that ‘tuxedo’... … ♪
Tetora: He looked really cool, didn’t he~? My heart actually skipped a beat when I saw the expressions on his face that could only arise from actually being there.
Souma: Hasumi-dono’s gentle smile then, so filled with purity and compassion, may also be something which you might never witness while he is on stage as part of AKATSUKI.
Tetora: I’d prefer to see someone the way they usually are, because that’s the side of them that I’m most familiar with, but then…
When it’s actually the same person, and yet not quite the same…, how do I put it? It’s actually kinda nice to see a side of someone that can only be seen outside the unit.
Kanata: Fufu. Well then, that goes for ‘Feature Live’ too, right?
I will be standing ‘solo’ on ‘stage’, and not with everyone in the ‘unit’ after all.
Souma: In other words, we may see a side of Shinkai-dono which is different from the one we usually see in Ryuseitai.
Tetora: Uwaa~ I’m looking forward to it. I’m getting really curious about what kind of stage it’ll end up being, and what kind of song you’re gonna be singing too!
Kanata: Ahaha. Nothing has been decided yet, and I have yet to discuss it with Anzu-san~. I have not managed to come up with anything regarding the matter of the ‘pamphlet’ either.
Souma: Ohh. That is correct; we were supposed to be discussing the ‘panfuretto’, were we not?
Urmmm. Photos of Shinkai-dono, photos of Shinkai-dono… …?
Tetora: U~myu~... …
Kanata: I am sorry to have vexed the both of you so much, over something that is solely about me.
I do think it would make the ‘fans’ happy to see a different side of me in the “pamphlet’... …
I am going to try to come up with my own ideas, using what we have discussed together as a ‘reference’.
Tetora: Roger that! We’ll also be cheering you on from the sidelines… …!
Well then. We’ll be off to clean up the entrance now—
Souma: We will beautify the place so that all the visitors will be greeted with a pleasant experience when they arrive.
Kanata: Thank you~. If you have any questions, please ask them at any time, okay~?
Souma: Understood. Then, I will be on my way ♪
Kanata: … … Well, then. I will now have to make my way to the ‘concession stand’... …
(... … All things considered. I have listened to what the both of them have said, and have done a little ‘reflection’ of my own.
I had been asked about ‘the criteria that I wanted’, so I had been idly listing all the places that I want to go, and the things that I want to do.
To stay exactly the same as I am now, would be a little… … Have I been giving too much ‘preferential treatment’ towards my favourite things?
It would be more helpful to Anzu-san if I had an ‘idea’ to propose regarding showing ‘a different side’ of me, wouldn’t it~?)
Mr. ‘Blue Tang’, are there any particular kinds of photos that you would like to see of me?
Should I ask Mr. ‘Sunfish’ [2] while I am at it too? Just kidding… … ♪
continue to "me", research: chapter 2 →
writer: umeda chitose translator: greeneyedexecutioner eng proof: ryuseipuka
The program that Kanata’s Shuffle Unit, Moonlight Spectacle, performed in.
Blue Tang and Sunfish are two kinds of fish.
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legomydoggos · 3 years
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My water dragon🌊
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ladywaifuuwrites · 3 years
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Why do you hate me?
Pairings: Giyuu Tomioka x fem! Reader
Synopsis: Ever since you met Giyuu you hated him. Well, not hate...you just don’t like him to a higher extent and you don’t know why. But Giyuu likes you and wants to ask you: “Why do you hate me?”.
Warnings: angst | swearing | a bit fluff | past life! au
a/n: I’ve been obsessed lately with past life regression and past life things and I just absolutely love history. So this is me letting my imagination run wild. And I love Giyuu. He’s my main man ❣️
Pls. give this a chance huhuness
word count: 1,635
Flashbacks are italicized  
part 1 part 2
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Party lights, red solo cups, booze and streams of laughter are present in the air. (Y/N) is thoroughly enjoying the party. After all, she just lied to her parents about going to a birthday party. But it’s actually a birthday party, a wild birthday party.
“HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY TENGEN”
Everybody shouts at the top of their lungs and goes “WOOOOOOOOH”. Tengen is now covered in confetti, booze, and girls. The drunk ladies latched themselves on him and he kissed their heads one by one.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, everyone! Let’s get this party started!!!!” And everyone goes crazy and jumps out on the large pool outside.
You smile at their enthusiasm and shook your head to yourself, feeling good and happy about this event. Shinobu rolled her eyes and just went for the kitchen while Mitsuri is snacking on the food at the table, quietly. 
A scream left Shinobu’s lips as Tengen picked her up and proceeded to walk to your way. Mitsuri dropped her food while you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion on what is happening. 
“Oh no” Mitsuri mumbled before running away but Tengen caught her and placed her on his shoulder alongside Shinobu.
“NOOOOOOOOO. Please let me go!” Mitsuri cried out as she kept on hitting Tengen’s back.
“How about you (Y/N)? Are you gonna disobey the flamboyant birthday boy’s wishes?” 
“If you’re gonna do that to me, then no. What do you want?” You asked crossing your arms and turned on your sassy mode. 
“For the good girls club to have some fun! Why are you guys holding back? There’s so much fun this flamboyant party has to offer!” Tengen exclaimed.
“Please let me go.” Shinobu said with a smile on her face but she is really annoyed.
Before Tengen could say anything, a voice interrupted him.
“Hey! Let my friends go!” Makomo ran towards Tengen and pulled on Shinobu and Mitsuri’s arm but Tengen was far too tall so he lifted the girls up.
“Not until you grow some height!” Tengen clapped back which made Makomo extra angry. Sabito laughed loudly and kept wheezing about the joke.
“That’s a good one Tengen!” 
“Ye- Oh! Hey! Giyuu! My man!” The tall man threw the girls on his shoulders onto the pool causing screams to fill the air. 
You laugh at their situation but you are suddenly pushed onto the water. It was just like slow motion when you fell. Underneath the water, you move your legs so that you resurface but you seem to be having a hard time. Your legs feel tired and numb. Oh my gosh, is this how I’m going to die? Who the fuck killed me?
A huge splash can be heard as bubbles formed in the water and made way for someone’s body. Mesmerizing blue eyes met yours and you could feel as if you’re running out of breath. Are you running out of breath because of the water? Or because of those blue eyes?
Strong arms wrapped around your waist as you float back to the surface. You gasped for breath and put your hands to your face to whisk away the water on your face.
Makomo held her hand for you and you accepted it to get out of the pool. Shinobu put a towel around your body as Mitsuri put a towel around your head.
“What the fuck? Did you guys forget that I can’t swim?” You scream at them angrily as tears welled up in your eyes. The boys couldn’t look at you and the girls looked at you sadly.
“Giyuu pushed you” You turned your head to the voice and found Sanemi standing beside Obanai. Who the hell is Giyuu?
“I’m sorry. Sanemi bumped into me and I accidentally pushed you from the impact, I’m sorry.” A deep attractive voice perked your ears and led you looking at a man beside the pool with his head hung low. Water dripped from the man’s dark hair to his blue shirt and to his black sweatpants. He was basically covered in water and he looked hot. 
He’s the one who saved you. It was the same blue eyes that met yours underwater. But your heart swelled with anger and angry tears filled your eyes, disregarding the fact that he saved you. But he was also the one who almost killed you!
You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to him, because the way his head hung low as if utterly begging for forgiveness hurt your heart. Tears fell down your cheeks as you keep looking at him. It was like someone kept on stabbing your heart.
“(Y/N)” Makomo said softly and guided you out of the scene. Shinobu and Mitsuri followed on as everyone fell quiet.
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You didn’t go to parties anymore. You didn’t want to see that guy again. Giyuu Tomioka. 
Life was boring without your friend’s killer parties. The girls offered to stay behind with you but you shooed them because you knew they wanted to go. But of course, they felt bad that they left you alone. So they ordered food and drinks for you, making you surprised since Mitsuri didn’t try to eat them.
And now you’re alone. Watching boring movies since you almost watched everything on Netflix. 
You can’t take it anymore. You need to get out. So you put on decent clothes and headed to the bar and café for music and relaxation.
It was another chill night at the place you went to. The band is singing slow soft songs about the betrayals of love and you feel like crying. 
You wipe your tears before they truly cascade down. Then suddenly two glasses of beer thump down at your table. You look at whoever placed it there and the sight widened your eyes.
What is he doing here? Giyuu sat down on the chair opposite to yours and slid the other glass of beer to your direction. Instead of being nice and saying thank you, you spat at him. “Who said you can sit there?” 
He froze. Sadness passed in his eyes before blinking and returning to his normal gaze. You raised an eyebrow and he cleared his throat. 
“I’m sorry, I’ll find another seat.” Giyuu said and took away his beer, leaving the other one behind. You look back to see him walking around to find an unoccupied space. He was about to take a seat when a group of friends clashed with him and they exchanged words for a while. He ended up giving up his seat.
You sighed at what you saw. Your heart clenched in hurt because he looked so pitiful finding a seat. Now, he’s just awkwardly leaning on a wall, drinking his beer a few inches from a couple making out. 
You raised your hand and waved them at Giyuu’s direction. He took a double-take at you waving your hand at him, motioning for him to come to you. And he did, looking like a lost puppy.
He sat back down and you two drank the night away awkwardly.  
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It’s 7am on a Sunday morning with you just staring at the wall in your bedroom. You dreamed again about snow, demons, and a half-and-half haori. It’s all just the same thing over and over again.
Your mind takes you back when Giyuu offered to take you home. You said it’s alright but he insisted and you have no choice but to let him. 
And the elevator scenario. Oh my gosh, the elevator scenario. Your face heats up as you cry into your pillow. 
You live apart from your parents but they still ask you where you go, who is in your apartment and who are you bringing to your apartment. They just called in earlier and asked who you were with. Of course, you didn’t say who it was. You just said you’re with friends and ended the conversation.
And now the elevator is taking too damn slow to go up. You turn to Giyuu to find him asleep, and he leaned on your shoulder. You immediately got away from him as if he has an infectious disease and the poor guy is snapped back to reality. He looks around groggily and lands his sight on you which causes him to widen his eyes. 
“I’m sorry-”
“Can you please stop apologizing? It’s getting annoying.” You said to him annoyed. The sight of his head low and his gaze to the floor is hurting your heart once again. You want to lift his head up and hug him. But why do you want to hug him? You shook your head.
“I’m sorry-”
“I said stop! Why won’t you stop apologizing?” You scream at him and he closes his eyes as if hurt. Tears escape your eyes because of the frustration and you don’t even know why you are frustrated.
You just kept crying in front of him and Giyuu comes close to you to embrace you but you push him away aggressively. He looked so shocked, hurt, sad, full of emotions. 
The elevator door opened and you immediately went to your apartment door but a hand gripped your wrist.
Giyuu stood there, his brows furrowed in confusion and anger, his grip tight on you and you crying. You kept on trying to remove his hand on you but it wouldn’t budge. 
You could always tell what’s in people’s eyes and your intuition never failed you. His eyes were full of affection and longing. His hand forced your hand to fit into his and now your fingers are between his fingers. Why are you doing this?
“I like you”
He said as if he read your thoughts.
“But...” 
Your heart dropped.
“Why do you hate me?” Giyuu whispered 
You have never cried so hard in your entire life. 
a/n: I promise the next parts will make so much sense. I didn’t plan on this becoming a multi-chap fic. Oh well. It was all so much better in my head :((
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iamtheempress · 3 years
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Highly Motivated~
Lets Talk: part 2
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A week is all it took, alot faster than Dabi expected. 
The league took her in as one of their own and it was comforting to say the least, just as comforting as any detached homicidal family could be to someone who was nothing but sweet and a change of pace… almost innocent in a twisted sort of way.
Toga had taken a liking for her almost instantly, Chiaki's charming and womanly disposition really stood out to her and grit drew her in quickly; gossiping and having another woman around made Chiaki feel a sense of camaraderie, a sisterhood almost, made her heartache to see her little sister again. 
While still under the watchful eye of the men of the group, the same men she fought against with the other UA students and under the same monicor of being labeled a pro hero… so the wary behavior was quite understandable. Kurogiri had made it very clear she was to stay within the hideout until further notice to figure out what the hell to do with her, to quell Shigaraki's nerves and to act as the designated healer and if god forbid anything happened. 
Chiaki obliged respectfully, head low and a sweet little smile on her face-unlike Himiko’s whose toothy grin was unmistakable and sinister to everyone- granting her a bit of positive attention from the men of the group after she displayed the extent of her quirk and its versatility.
That notice went up about 2 days into her stay in the hideout, this being exactly what Dabi had wanted from the beginning, he knew just the tip of the iceberg of what this girl could bring to the group.
Her assistance was needed in the worst way possible, upon receiving contact from Compress she was notified that Spinner and Twice were injured the day after she had shown up. 
Twice being worse for wear than Spinner. She ordered him to lay down in the living room of the hide out, after complying to do as she says he lain back and watched her, his vision shifting in and out, with gentle hands and a deep breath placed a hand directly on an open wound that punctured his lung, which in all reality should have killed him.
 By some miracle it didn't- and she spent 50 minutes concentrating on making sure he was healed up, relaxing him with a hot towel and the most comforting tone of voice she can muster, within what felt like several hours, she healed the puncture wound and had made sure he had the ability to breathe, even keeping a conversation with him talking about anything and everything, sometimes talking about her family and sibling. 
Impressed with her quirk he commended her and thanked her profusely, calling her an 'angel' of all things, making the ex pro brim with relief and exuding pride from every orifice, Dabi remaining close to her to see her in action. Also because she had a natural radiant pull to him he couldnt put his finger on, he chalked it up to her being so sweet and generous to a bunch of nightmarish degenerates like the league. 
Shigaraki, on the other hand, kept his distance, eyes trained on her like a Tiger to prey who knew of his whereabouts, skeptical and wary of her in general, a hero turned villain in such a short time is jarring, he couldn't trust it- to say the least, but she had to fit into work with them.. when she was around his dialogue with her was short and curt, staring too long at her made her feel nervous, he liked that, knew her place with them in the league and where she stood as a villain.
It was a particularly long Saturday night, the rain coming down like a monsoon, some members of LOV had just returned with their spoils after robbing a convenience store of all their food and necessities, Toga had taken advantage of her quirk to go 'shopping' as a nobody student from UA for new clothes, disguises, and snacks for her new friend.
 Toga was cryptic about this surprise since the moment Chiaki woke up that morning, she had insisted on hanging out with Chiaki to take her attention from the tall dark and handsome man who had yet to return since Twice was still gone with him.. Toga stood outside of the bathroom, keeping her ear pressed flush against it listening to her try on clothes.
"Chiiiiaaaaki-chan? Put your new threads on yet, beautiful?" Toga called to her getting changed in the bathroom, she had taken the liberty of 'borrowing' a couple hundreds of dollars worth of clothes for her to wear so she's not wearing only the hoodie she came in. 
"Almost.. did you have to get me a pushup bra?" She chirps behind the door pulling the tube-topped romper up her body and snapping on her chest, a simple but… really expensive looking purple, white, and yellow flannel shirt she pulled on, followed by kitted out combat boots with metal plating on the toe and heel, some shiny steel running up the sides as well whether for aesthetics or for actual combat she didn't know yet.
 "Well ya know Dabi and I need something nice to look at too, hun. Who knows maybe if you put out more maybe you'll get lucky"
 Chiaki snorts loudly, while Chaiki and him were not that serious yet...she shares his bed and even goes out of her way to make sure he's healed and ok when he returns which was twice this week alone, it was a welcomed sort of comfort he never knew he needed, a sense of being and safety, that sort of life is very fleeting. Especially for criminals like him and he knew this, he didn't have any plans of making her anything more than his accomplice, a partner in crime for when the day comes where he leaves the League.
Chiaki exits the bathroom in the outfit that fit her too well, her long two-toned hair down, she actually killed the look pretty nice. 
Toga’s eyes widened and a giddy look on her face sprawled from ear to ear, the girl bounced over to her and took her by the hand. 
"oooo! You're such a looker! I think the girls here could be showier but I can tell you want to leave a little to the imagination, I  think Dabi would like to see more skin~" she winks and gives a little tug to the front of the suit, the new little pieces of Jewelry that were given to her hung just shy of the swell of her chest tinkled at the movements
  "I mean like i guess. I can’t just parade around with them on full display, how much of a spectacle do you want me to be?" 
Chiaki says as she notices Himiko staring right over her shoulder and up Chiaki gulps and whips her head around to see Dabi, dripping in water looming behind her like a shadow, his thumbs thrusted into his front pockets, arching forward as the shirt clung to his front from the rain as well as his spiky inky black hair to his forehead, all while grinning like a Cheshire cat down at the woman he shares his room with.
  "I wouldn't mind that, little mouse." His sweet velvety voice humors her and chuckles to himself moving to loom above the woman, examining her pretty face for any sign of protest as his hand slid into his pocket and one into his wet hair.
Chiaki blushes brightly as well as Himiko thoroughly enjoying the little trap she set up, Himiko's hand finding her own cheek and winking devilishly. 
"Hehe oops! Mighta saw him the whole time behind ya, Chiaki-chan~ my bad! Seeing you flustered is super cute anyway.. Ill see you two later." the little homicidal girl turns on her heel and trots away "you suck Toga."
  She calls out tucking platinum-blonde hair behind her ear and crossing her arms over her chest, foolishly avoiding the bright blue eyes that bore holes through her head.
"So...Toga went 'shopping' for you? That's sweet.. I’ll remember to look for things in your size when I’m out again." Chiaki lifts her head and cocks a brow at him and gently pokes a finger into his chest, the white tee he sported always looked as if it was about to fall off him from how low the cut is. 
"Oh c'mon now, you wouldn't know what i'd like to wear if it hit you in the head, your clothes look like they'll turn to cinders at any moment" she pulls the loose tee from him and lets it stick back to his belly. “Pff.. when they're not soaking wet like i went for a swim, maybe.” He chuckles “How the heck could men even walk around like this and not feel uncomfortable.. I get even a little water on me and I feel like I need to change." He stands back and wrings some water from his shirt out onto the floor, listening to her words and keeping mind of how her voice dips when she questions him like a mother worried for her child's health.
 “Unlike women i don't have a reason to cover my chest all the time, not that i'm saying i've looked or anything but that sweatshirt you came in didnt do you much justice.” His voice remained flat and his lips lined straight as if he didn't just make a jab at the fact she's physically ‘gifted’. 
“It was raining that day and i wasn't about to take a whole wardrobe with me, and I can't tell if your being charming or an ass” Dabi’s eyes remained trained on the woman before him, pretty sapphire eyes that made her nervous, they were occasionally void of emotion but when he looked at her she saw some little twinkle in his eye, like he had plans for her he just didnt know what for yet; another reason why she's so sweet and chummy with him. 
“Could be both could be neither, got a problem with that, mouse? I could just go around shirtless all the time” She rolls her eyes and leans all the way back and her brain flashes back to the first and only time she's seen him shirtless, the first night they met and she stayed in his bed. 
The rest of the nights she would go to sleep without him to accompany her, his little solo missions going without her knowing where he was or when he would return; he did however return and when he did he would watch her sleep with the tv on and watch whatever movie she had on. 
Getting to know her interests while she slept was easy to do, sitting up late and having a cigarette, making fun of the way she snores and mumbles in her sleep. Down to looking at the 8 gold earrings in her ears, little gold hoops that hugged her lobes from the top of her ear to the bottom. This sort of thing was a part of his plan to get to know her alittle bit more, his future accomplice. 
The strange young ex-hero raised hundreds of questions for him.
"But of course I think you would have a problem with that,” He commented, startling her from her thoughts, he shook remaining water from his choppy black hair and glowerered down at her with a heady look in his eye, whether it was actually him becoming flirtatious or joking around is left up to debate, maybe ti was just to mess with her and make her flustered. “I wouldn't want to.. 'be a spectacle'... a man has to leave at least 'a little to the imagination'." He chuckled darkly, his smile returning to his face to make her more flustered then she already is.
Chiaki’s face became more flushed pink, Dabi closed the gap, and left only about a foot or so between them both, the gesture purely meant to make her nervous and give him all her attention, since she seemed momentarily distracted. 
Despite the height difference she had an impact on him he couldn’t overlook, both with her quirk and her charm. Chiaki had an appeal to her that was new and one he wasn't even close to becoming bored of. 
He didn't know much of her yet but he desperately wanted to break down those walls and get to know her at her most raw, have some control over something in his life, something consistent. 
"I dont think wet clothes… constitutes as little to the imagination, Dabi.." she feels her heart get momentarily caught in her throat.
Dabi looked her up and down, his hands anchored on either side of her head making Chiaki's eyes widen and a blush creep up her neck, his face dipping down abit closer to fluster the woman before him 
“Hm.. so you’re saying you’d prefer to see me shirtless more, eh?" His head dips down just slightly, his intense blue eyes never wavering from her own. "Th-Thats not what i meant! I mean I have looked but… cant blame a girl for looking, Dabi..." She rises to her tippy toes finally working up enough courage to kiss him, Dabie remained unmoving but parting his lips with his eyes half lidded, before the moment is cut short by Kurogiri placing a hand on her shoulder and pulling her attention from Dabi in a snap.
“Huh?” She jumps and looks the second in command in the face with a blush. “Our leader has returned and has some injuries that needed to be tended to. See him immediately.” He commanded and left her shell shocked for a moment, eyes flickering from Kurogiri back to Dabi, embarrassment coursing through her veins and she wished for a split second she could fade away and vanish like her mom's quirk allows her. Dabi rose back up and sneered, peering down the hallway to where Kurogiri left. “it's about damn time he asks to see you.. Talk about timing huh?” He rasps and backs away from her.
“I-I'm sorry we can-” He shakes his head, with a light chuckle. “Not now, little mouse, besides…” He pinches her soft cheek between his thumb and index finger, she closes her eye and his hand flattens gently against her face, long fingers with calloused pads graze over her skin and the cold staples touch her cheek.
 “I dont think your ready for me yet… dont need you making a mistake and ruining this little companionship we have going on so far,” He holds her chin when he sees the look of sadness wash over her eyes. “Hey.. im not rejecting you, silly little mouse. We sleep in the same bed for fucks sake.. Besides.. We have alot to talk about after your done with...the flaky motherfucker upstairs…” His thumb swipes her bottom lip and he pulls away. “Pretty lips like yours need to be savored, appreciated in time…now.. go to him before he bitches and moans…” He growls and uses the heel of his hand to bump out a cigarette and light it with his fingers. 
She turns on her heel red in the face and trots to the opposite side of the building to the door with the most… dust on the floor. 
Chiaki contemplates how she holds her fist to knock and raps on the door, her sweet voice calling to the evil hidden behind it. “Shigaraki? It’s Chiaki… Kurogiri sent me to take care of your wounds.” She goes to open the door only to be met with resistance to the doorknob and it being opened quickly, a leering face hovering inches away from him, followed by white and blue toned hair. He was a lot less intimidating than he presented himself to be. She couldn’t describe it properly..
 “Oh. It’s you…” He turned his back to her, the blood seeping through his shirt as he staggered back into the half-darkened room a hunch to him. “I told Kurogiri I’m fine but if he’s going to.. Make a big fucking deal about it...get in here and shut the door, Ikeru...” He commands and she follows him. 
The tall gangly man striding right in and sitting on the edge of his bed moving his controller to the side, he had a tv on with a video game paused awaiting him with heavy metal coming from the tv itself. 
She looks around and furrows her brows when his shirt is lifted above his head, a loud hiss comes from his chapped lips. 
“God.. dammit… shit stings.. Augh you better be worth the trouble…” He groans, moving and wincing, she kneels on the bed behind him and within seconds he’s got the controller back in hand.  “Just relax. I know what i'm doing, Tomura..” she cracks her fingers and a soft glow emits from her palm as she looks over the wounds in his back.. They were fatal at best.
 Deep gunshot wounds and even some exit wounds from his front. “How the hell are you not dead..” She says placing a hand on top of the open wounds earning a snarl and a loud expletive. 
“FUCK! Warn me when you do that!” She recoils her hand as he whips his head around. His high pitch grating voice startling her and shaking the room almost, the look of fear in her eyed as he flexed his hand open and close. She looks down and nods her head apologetically. “I wont do it again ill let you know, Tomu-” she starts and lifts her head to look at him and he interjects. “Its boss to you.. Got it?” His voice becomes grave, she takes in a breath and offers a weirdly out-of-place smile.. “Yessir.” 
His whole body cringes at the very sight of her being so calm about the situation.. His attention is redirected to the tv screen and hes back to playing his game. “Im gonna touch that spot again, boss.” He groans annoyed already, she warns and places that hand on his back and he flinches instinctually from the contact. She watches over his shoulder, him playing a violent video game, his character decked out in the most overpowered armor and weapon he can find. She lets out a breathy chuckle watching him struggle with a boss and get killed, he cracks his jaw and shakes his head. His free hand going to his neck to scratch in frustration. 
“I used to play that game a lot. Still do actually. You do know there’s a dual axe weapon on top of the spire to face that boss right. Greatswords don’t do shit to him.” She boasts behind him, concentrating all her energy straight into his back. Shigaraki’s eyes grew wide and he turned his head slowly to look at her.
 “You play videogames?” He stared wide eyed at her,  Chiaki shrugs and smirks.
 “Yea, played alot while i was in UA.” She chuckles and it only makes him narrow his eyes and slowly turn his head back around, his tongue sucking his teeth and paying attention to the screen as he went in the direction she mentioned. “Other hands going for your back.” She states, Shigaraki grunts and furrows his brows as her other hand meets his hard back, his musculature was strange; skinny but dense muscles. 
He claims the dual axes and checks their stats and he nods and leans a bit back into her hands. “Thanks…” He mutters and goes to face the boss he was struggling with, succeeding after the first round and he snickers awkwardly and goes back to complete silence. “Y'know probably would have dusted this controller had you not told me that.” The ex-pro beamed and her very essence radiated from her to the point Shigaraki shook and raised his shoulders in a weird feeling of discomfort. The positive energy was all too unfamiliar to him, he noted this being a part of her quirk, making him cringe.
 “Thank you, boss, happy to help.” He scoffs and feels her wipe the dried blood away. “Heh. Shut your mouth, don't be an ass kiss, bitch.” he growled and when she pulled her hands away from his back she shot back at him with a laugh “Not so much an ass kiss more of which just bein genuine.” “GENuine...that’s new,” He laughed, his high pitch voice dropping an octave as he puts his controller in his lap as a cutscene starts up for the next level.
 “If you couldn’t tell already, I'm not so much...used to people being nice or…*genuine*. Mostly used to people being conniving and doing for themselves.. The amount of people who joined us to try and do something idiotic is at best impressive and fucking stupid… coming in trying to call shots to people who already know what they want and know where there going.” She listened sitting beside him on the bed, his voice straining when he spoke of people doing things for themselves, his fingers flexed and curled when he looked at her, she knew what disaster those very hands can bring. 
It made her wary and extremely aware of her own mortality. 
“When Dabi mentioned you about a couple months ago, we couldn’t find a damn thing about you… why is that?” He sits back and his voice wavers in the sentence emphasizing words to make her wary. She did her best to not bend or falter.
 “You're not like AllMight or any of the other pros so why couldn’t we find a damn thing on you...You're out in the public eye every time we looked up news coverage of you. Everything seems surface level, your name, age.. hero name..hell we’ve even fought you on numerous occasions, almost had all 5 fingers around that neck of yours.” His eyes were staring at her beyond the long hair.
 As if analyzing her face for any sign of any irregularities, she caught his eye and almost jumped out of her skin.
"Well, Im 19 and i was like.. Not even a year into the whole pro hero thing, I worked for the heroes society as something fresh and new.” She rubbed her palms together nervously, Shigaraki nodded his head looking forward. 
“i guess you could say, since i am kind of young to be a pro I had this demeanor of being easy to manipulate so they sought me out for big trafficking rings and elaborate mafia rings, find escape convicts to bring back to Tartarus or other Quirk Prisons. I was roped in to be the ‘beacon’ for the agency or me to round them up on my own and bring em in, and with my dad… being a fuckin awful person and a vigilante and my mom being one of the retired pros from America, they wanted to ‘make a new face for heroes’ or whatever..” His entire back was arched forward, hunched to the point where the vertebrae in his back shown through the dense scars that litter his flesh, Chiaki bared her truth and admitted while she put up her hands, showing herself to be vulnerable in the situation, Shigaraki is the most wanted criminal out there anyway, and most volatile as far as lethality goes.
 “I came at my own volition and I hope that.. You find my presence positive in your league, and you find me more than just a ‘private nurse’ and send me out every once in a while, I mean hell I don't even know where we are!” Shigaraki absolutely preened externally, his chest puffing up.. If she was an asskiss-or as good of an accomplice as she entails, he keeps that thought on the forefront of his mind. 
“Don't press your luck. We will find a place for you and you will see plenty of bloodshed, and as far as our whereabouts right now stands,” He turned his head and lifted it back as he directed his focus to the television once again, his red eyes blank and face deadpan, he let out a rumbling breath his chest rising and a wolf line grin spreads across his face, his lips splitting as his teeth ground back and forth. “Before you get to chummy with your boss... “Let's keep it that way, Ikeru Chiaki…” He cracks his fingers long fingers. 
It’s within an hour that Dabi has become antsier, waiting for the woman he's been bunking with to exit Shigaraki’s room, he was seated in the main area where the fully stocked bar was, peering up the stair case for the little woman, no such luck yet.
 He tapped his cigarette and took a long drag of it and turned back forward to look at his reflection in the bars mirror behind the bottles, contemplating if she found solace with Shigaraki over him. It actually made his blood boil as he closed his eyes and put his forehead in his hand, pushing the emotion he was desperately trying to drown out.
Puffing the smoke from his nose he opened his eyes to see Toga standing close to him in the reflection of the bar mirror, it made him jump.
 “Did you see what's been on the news on repeat?” Toga asked him, grabbing his arm and lightly shaking him. 
His eyes were bored and flat. 
“No.. more about us I assume.” He put it between his two tone lips and took a shallow inhale, “No its about Chiaki-chan!” Dabi raised an eyebrow and snuffed out the cigarette, he grabbed the remote and turned on the television hanging up in the bar, the 32 inch tv clicked to life to show the news anchor man with a picture of the hero in her normal gear, In bold text beneath the anchor “PRO HERO WITCH GONE MISSING: DAY #7”
 “The search for the pro hero is still ongoing! She was reported missing in the middle of the night from her friends who came to talk to her, after the fight that morning with the villain known as ‘BlueFlame’ where they were seen to be on common ground, before the building collapsed killing 5 people,” Dabi focused on the tv screen as Spinner, Compress, and Twice entered the room watching the screen of that day. “ the new infiltration specialist is of much importance to the hero society and has a hefty reward for her return alive, her father Negate, offers no word on her return besides the statement ‘she won't be happy to see me’-” Dabi tuned everything else out and stood up from his chair. 
“Infiltration Specialist… you think perhaps she'd be working against us?” Compress asks Dabi who continued to stare at the staircase. “I don’t think she would betray us like that… she has no idea where we are anyway..�� After a moment of agonizing silence, he had one thought in mind, and then a foolproof plan, his face remained stoic and unwavering. 
Infiltration specialist. His interest in her is only blossoming.. Beautiful, fresh faced, and new to him, his intentions may be malicious in the long run none of those malicious plans ever involved going against her… in fact he saw her at his side...made his heartthrob in his chest, making him stumble briefly.
He makes it to the door and before he could even knock he heard a familiar female voice curse from behind the door, followed by the bed creaking. His eye twitched and he leaned his head against the door.
 “Goddammit did you have to have the biggest one…” She questioned Dabi's imagination going into a tailspin, he brought his head from the door with his brow furrowed, his head moves closer to the door to confirm if what he heard was actually what he thinks is going on beyond the door. “Bitch, you know i wouldn’t be the best without it...now hold still and this will end quickly.” 
Shigaraki chuckles followed by the bed creaking and him cursing. “Fuck you!” She whines and Dabi pulls his head away from the door his vision going red and his fists clenched as he swung the door wide open only for his heart race to slow down and his hands stopped burning blue as he focused on a shirtless Shigaraki leaning his elbow on Chiaki’s shoulder as they played that goddamned video game.
“Oh hey Dabi! Sorry, i didn’t come out sooner, Tomura gave me another controller-god fuckign damn you and your stupid ultimate!” She cusses as she loses against Shigaraki, miserably at that… Shigaraki groaned loudly as he pinched his brow, grabbing a shirt that she gave him that he neglected to put on. Shigaraki puts his controller down and turns to look at him. “What do you want.. Better be good for barging in like that, Dabi…” He glowers teeth clenched tightly in his jaw, punctuating his name.
 “So that wasn't…- anyway, so when you were a hero… you were an Infiltration specialist… That's why we couldn't find anything on you. Right?” she nods and tilts her head confused 
"y-yeah how'd you know that? I only just told Shigaraki." She questioned, Shigaraki's eyes flickering over to her, knowing this already. 
"Your secret is all over the news." Her eyes widened and she blunk quickly watching Shigaraki turn on the other tv and flick to the news shown her face and the news caster. "Ill tell ya.. if you were still a hero id say your cover was blown by whatever shitty agency revealed to the world that your a covert type'a hero, sucks honestly." He tsks and returns his attention to Shigaraki, a  knowing grin spread slowly across his face. 
"What the hell are ya lookin at me like that for, eh?" Shigarakis eyes narrowed and his voice became raspy and on edge. 
"I have a plan… and this little ‘pro’ is at the core of that very plan." Shigaraki tilts his head and looks to her his jaw tightening once again. "Can you two plan… not in here… if you're thinking how I think your… thinking… i'd like to dwell on it.." Chiaki moves from near Shigaraki to Dabi’s side, his eyes following her, a little glimmer of pride rose in his chest when she stood mere several inches from his side, her presence really is something, and damn sure didn't want her positive energy anywhere near Shigaraki of all people.
"You almost said think again, did you?" he bit his tongue and scratched at his neck. "Grr… Get the hell out." He points to the door. 
Within seconds Dabi was back at the door and holding it open for her,. Shigaraki sat back down and spoke up, his high pitch voice catching her attention and annoying Dabi.
 "Chiaki." 
She turned to look at his head half turned, as he starts up again. "Ill need another player two sometime so don't be a stranger, bitch.” He let out a noise something close to a chuckle as Dabi closed the door back on him. Shutting the Leader away in the other room. 
“You have a plan involving me, you say?” She bumps his arm and follows him down the hall, side by side, who tucked his hands again in his pockets, his eyes trained ahead and unblinking like hes analyzing his plan in front of him. “Mhmmmmm, but you have to keep it between you and me for now, got it.” He says beneath his breath, slowing down to keep pace with her, he notes how much smaller he is compared to her. 
”Yessir! As long as i can actually do something ill be happy with it.” She chirps, almost excited, excited to be a part of something then just being a nurse. Dabi hums at her exuberance and pushes the door open for her, getting a good look at her back as she walks right in; her flannel fluttering behind her.  
“Hm, don't get used to saying that, i might like it.” Dabi turns on the light and points her to the rolling desk chair where his computer was set up. “Step into my office, Witch, I have some questions for you.” She rolls her eyes at the mention of her hero name and plops down into the rolling chair of his desk, her legs cross in a very womanly fashion as he starts to pace infront of his bed. “Alright you have my attention what the hell do you need me for.” She asks moving the seat back and forth rotating her waist and facing forward to occupy her brain as she stared straight ahead at him.
 "First." He stops and extends his pointer finger up, not meeting her eyes just yet, his voice still remaining flat and unreadable. 
"I need abit more information about your, specialty here…” His eyes flicker over to her, his hands facing upward and looking to the calluses on his fingertips. “How in the hell have we not heard of this infiltration unit. Is it that covert that there's actual heroes in the agency dont know about it.” He questions facing her entirely, he leans against the desk, absentmindedly rubbing his fingers together as if they were covered in dust.. “As far as I know.. I'm the first one they indicted into the program. Again, due to my age and my quirk its kinda easy to give people a good idea about me but most of the time i dealt with kind of simple minded characters.” She states, her eyes looking at his hands, mildly distracted by how much larger he is in comparison to her. 
Dabi openly flexes his hand allowing her to see the way the staples pull at his textured flayed flesh to his normal hand, hes much closer in fact she has to look almost fully up at him. His entire body silhouettes the white light behind his head, making him look more sinister to the untrained eye, his face however read genuine curiosity, not a sign of threat anywhere on his face. 
“Mind telling me why you haven't turned tail and ran when you met them all.. Any sane person would have split the second they saw any of us.. No less Shigaraki.. you know what they have done, you saw the very day that we met what all of them can do… and you stayed and spoke to them on common ground… even fuckin introduced yourself.” He broadly gestures the same hand up into the air and lets it fall back down to his hip with a thump. She listened to him speak.. His voice soothed her in the strangest way imaginable, that and Dabi kind of liked to hear himself talk. “A pretty face mixing in with abunch of grimy villains.. Most of us driven by Stains ideology like some cultish fanclub gone awol..heh.. Hell you even got mixed up with the zombie man of all things.. Like a beauty and the beast type bullshit…” Dabi leans his head back and she watches his adam's apple bob in his throat as he clears it, his chin lolling back down to make eye contact with her, again making her feel small..
 “I had thought it would take months for them to accept you as their own but… you fit in like a missing link, your gonna make this plan act quickly and i can feel it!" he grinned widely to the point where the staples on his mouth strained and it pulled at the flesh of his face. 
“I do however would like to know: You are being real with me are you? I can trust you with everything I am about to ask of you..” She took a shallow breath and nodded,  "O-of course! I haven't done anything to prove otherwise! I dropped all communication and everything with everyone i knew hell even my old friends from UA to be here.. And you already heard my whole thing with why I wanted to join." He pointed right at her and nodded his head, almost solemnly.
Dabi's eyes shut and he took a deep dramatic breath, "Y'see, this whole thing still makes me hesitant and i don't want to be hesitant with you.” He dragged her and the chair away from the desk and to the center of the room to draw her attention to him as he sauntered around her hypnotically. “Do you, my lil mouse have a single bad bone in your body..” He spins the chair with her in it as he circled her like a shark in blood infested water, she would sometimes look to his gnarled and scarred arm. 
“Answer me.” She snapped his fingers in front of her face, she shuddered and her attention was once again drawn to sapphire blue eyes as she gulped her dry tongue. “Not as much as i would like to admit… no..” She looks down away from him, feeling like a fraud in the face of professionals. “That doesn't change how you see me right?” He halts fully and grabs her shoulder a large hand engulfing her hard musculature..  Her eyes floating back to his face as if magnetically. “Just a bit, not negatively of course, mouse, hell i wasn't born bad.”
 His fingers gently entwined in her light locks, letting his fingers thread through her thick hair slowly each wave going through his fingers slowly as he noted the cold shiver when he allowed it to flutter back down to her shoulder.
“I need you to understand: when I send you on this mission you will come back to *me* with a motivation, a purpose, while it may not be like everyone else here, where most of us are natural born psychopaths and dregs of society, failures, monsters... You will be our little eye into the hero society, to throw a wrench in their plans in the worst way… our wildcard.” He promised her a week ago HE will bring out her potential.. Is this truly where it began? A moment of happenstance where her position as a former Pro can benefit her..  She barely registered the fact hes encircling her again.
 “So.. what exactly is this idea..” She finally questioned him.
 “Getting to that, mouse, getting to that...We have a person in the top 5 who is actually a part of us..A silent partner if you will, You might know him actually from working in your field.” He states bluntly, her eyes widened at the notion.. Top 5… who the hell.
 Before she could even ask, she was cut off. “He has no idea you are even here, he has no idea you're even a blossoming little villain… for all he knows you're a scared little hero who went missing for a long time…He doesn't even come to the base if that says anything about him.. He needs to prove his worth before hes able to join us.. As the number 2 pro hero he needs to stay at arms length.. For our sake and the bases sake..”
Hawks. 
“Winged hero.. Hawks?” She gawps and goes wide eyed. “The very same..”  he sparks up a cigarette and places it betwixt his lips, he dragged her chair to the edge of the bed and sitting down as his knees framed her legs as he spreads his long legs out, he flicks her forehead, in a teasing fashion, making her pout cutely.
 “We have our reasons as to WHY he can't come to the base.. Being number 2 hero publicly being that reason and we can't risk everything to bring bird brain here or our goose is cooked, so to speak.” He chuckles and takes a drag of the cigarette, blowing the cloud out of his nose like a dragon. 
 Dabi leans forward flicking ash on the floor, maintaining eye contact with her as he drops a bombshell on her.
“My plan is to return you to the Heroes.” 
He says flatly and it makes her head jolt back, her eyes widening and her heart clamoring to her throat. 
“Really?” her voice raises a pitch as she cocks a brow, a cute little nervous gleam in her yellow eyes made him almost lose it laughing. "Yup. I'm going to hand you off to Hawks in 2 days and make it look like you were kidnapped, fucked up that big brain of yours, and on the plus side your little friends will be very excited to see you again i'm sure… the big shots will be asking you questions.. Getting intel from you..”
 She looks him over confused. “Isn't that bad though?” “No because you don't know where the hell you are… and.. You have been in the confines of these walls all this week.. Just answer them.. Just don't mention your wanting to become a villain.. Youll look crazy and they will stop questioning you..” He grins knowing exactly what could come from this.. His eyes hungry for the moment she realizes the heroes are nothing but scum of the Earth..
“Are you my mouse?” He tilts his head and raises his eyebrows feigning innocence. “I'm your girl…” He grins widely and takes her hand “Hmph, i knew you were.. Thats my lil mouse…”
The following day came and went, bringing about the evening and Dabi fleshing out his plan to Shigaraki who welcomed it but internally, he fucking loathed it now that hisnew found friend will be missing in action, however if its to get what they desired and to pinpoint locations on where the heroes reside, privately...It was underhanded. Conniving, and mostly her idea.. She knew where to go and how to get there.
After rejecting smokes for about an hour between the villains who sat around and listened to the new recruit eagerly mention how this was her specialty and she wont let any of them down, the mischievous gleam in her eye really captivated Dabi and drew him closer to her.  
At some point early in the evening, hard alcohol was busted out and drank at the bar and Shigaraki was piss drunk passed out on his bed, his shoe stuck in the door frame and what looked like his shirt lain on the floor, the only one looking to be untouched from the obscene amount of booze being Compress and Kurogiri..and for the most part Dabi, whether it be high alcohol tolerance or being ‘designated villain wrangler’ they will never admit what it was.
Chiaki was buzzed.. More then buzzed, three sheets to the wind... Never touching alcohol or hard liquor in her life, it felt freeing, except for the fact the entire building was moving around like a ship at sea and she never got her sea legs.. Dabi on the other hand had a much higher alcohol tolerance then her, practically providing the young woman bottle after bottle of Fireball.
The first shot she described as the hottest thing she ever drank, only for Himiko to make some snide comment about something *Else that could be hot that she can drink*, then another about how sweet and warm her blood will run after some liquid courage in her veins, all while twirling her knife between her digits.
Dabi quickly shut her up with a glare and a menacing threat. Soon she killed the entire bottle with Dabi, leaving it forgotten on the bar as she stays clung to his hip, and for the most part his jacket. He didn't mind, he dragged her up the stairs and scooped her up bridal style when she tripped at the second stair, avoiding her googly eyes that lolled back and forth in her head, he kept her head against his chest with ease, his destination his bedroom, to keep her at ease and keep her under his control.
 While walking to the bedroom he stepped over 3 passed out versions of Twice, one piled on top of the other and one folded down the staircase upside down; that being the actual Twice..Compress nodded to Dabi. “Still not fully knocked out?” He chuckled and dragged Spinner by the ankles into his room. “She was like me when I got plastered the first time… except she kept her clothes on… and didnt barbeque the bar.. Or fucked the barmaid.” Dabi jokes, making the pie-eyed young woman slur something that sounded like a laugh, it made him smile.
He pushed open the bedroom door only to see the little woman look up at him and giggle in a slur. “Heh.. heheheh! Dah-Dahhbiii..” She reaches up to his face and misses entirely, her arm plapping the side of his warm face, his eye blinks and he raises his brow comically . “May i help you, you shitfaced lil mouse.” He lowers her to the bed, her eyes blinking slowly and her eyes going drowsily going back and forth in the room. 
"Why aintchu fucked up.. you drank almost wha I had" she inquires her voice fumbling to make it passed red raw lips. Hereyes trained on Dabis knees as he stood point blank infront of her, her googly eyes focused on the White belt under his white shirt. 
"Self control, mouse.. and you kinda lost it after your second shot." She was shrouded in darkness for a split second before her head popped out of a black hoodie hole that smelled like burnt fabric, she moved her arms into the sleeves and noticed it wasn't like the one she came in. 
She sniffed it and fell backward to the bed, as Dabi stepped away to disrobe his clothing in a room with an open door. "Mmm.. smells like you.." she murmurs, loud enough for him to hear and make his eyes widen, blood surged through his veins getting a wicked lil idea.. "oh it does?" He calls out leaving that room shirtless and now dressed in sweatpants only. "Y'smell like sulphur and-" she takes another whif staring up at the ceiling. Hugging this oversized hoodie to her, he dimmed the lights with a flick of the switch beside him. Leaving one other light on. "Pork? Like.. musk too" he laughed loudly at this causing her to jump. "Thats burnt flesh. Humans smell like pork when fire is strong enough to cook it." Her eyes narrowed at the statement. "Huh.." was all she could muster from her lips. "Dabi.. yknow how easy it is to make people feel good when your me.. super easy.. my quirk i guess is kinda like wiiiiiiildfire." She mocked his voice and flattened her legs out to the end of the bed; he paid mind to where he sat as  he sunk down on the other side of the bed facing away from her as he turned on the tv for a movie.. some white noise wouldn't hurt. "Do ya care if i take this suit off." She mumbles as in her drunken state she fumbles to pry off the body suit from under the sweater. He paid no mind to her thinking she was just mumbling to herself.
Dabi chose a movie and flattened his hair back for a moment with his free hand, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders from side to side. He saw the suit hit the arm of the couch and blunk just realizing what that was. Then another article followed it. Her bra. 
Dabi amusedly chuckled and turned back to see the doe eyed drunken young woman sipping from a sake bottle she found in his room, sith her legs concealed beneath the blankets.
 He tsked and took it from her hands "dammit.. had to find my stache did you, mouse.." he scolded her and capped it, a scowl when he found it only about 2 shot glasses worth missing from the bottle. 
"whaat! I cant have more?" He turns his head to her half expecting her to have food in his bed and only meeting the sweet drunken face of the ex pro, hair all disheveled and some strands of hair in between her pretty pursed lips. This attraction and want was still fresh to him. He assumed it was part of her quirk that made him feel like this, all warm and fuzzy inside.. another weird feeling that made his stomach feel queasy, couldn't say he didnt like it though.
 "Would much rather not have someone die from alcohol poisoning again in my bed *again*, please…" he tosses it between his hands and stows it under the bed again. "No more."
He states firmly when he brings his head up she's in the center of the mattress and looking at his skin "take a picture, mouse, it lasts longer." She shuffles closer to him and touches his back making him jolt, his brows furrow, absolutely not expecting not even her to touch him where he couldn't see, his very body getting warmer to the touch, at the very point she's touching.
 Almost like in self defence. "D'sit hurt?" Her voice is blunt and almost not even close to a full sentence but he understands drunk speak clearly, he looks at the back of his hands "no. Some spots are more sensitive than others." His voice lowered, almost solemnly, old scars that have long healed on lean dense muscle.
 She pulls her hand away when the heat becomes too much, he hears her squeak. "Don't touch open flames.. might get burnt lil mouse.. i get too much in me and I could lose control of my quirk." He laughs and moves back to be with her, as she shuffles back beneath the sheets.
 "Don burn me like that puleaase" she pouts and flops into the pillows. "Pfff. Wouldnt imagine wanting to unless you have a thing for that." He winks down at her and pushes bright blonde locks from her face and pulls some strands from her lips. 
A wet pink muscle darting out to wet her alcohol dried lips, he watched almost transfixed on the pretty woman in his bed. "Your eyes are prrretty" she draws out the word pretty and a blush creeps across her face, dreamy eyed staring at him. Dabi rolls his eyes and throws an old shirt at the light switch to turn off the light, shrouding them both in semi darkness. "Shuttup." He grumbles, keeping the distance between them reasonable.
 "M'serious, when we first met i thought you were really my type, very sweet and charmin’." He humors her and props his head up on his hand, looking into her pretty yellow eyes, only visible by the light from the tv. 
"Tsk..Stop butterin me up.. Makin me feel like less of a villain and more of a softy.” He scowls and the light from the tv illuminates her once again, she pulls the blanket further up her body making the sweatshirt hike up her thighs abit out of Dabis sight. “Y’kinda were though hehehhe!” She giggled, Dabi humored her to hopefully shut her up. “Its the rugged handsome look or is it the monster look?" She looks away from his face for a moment. "Would you believe its bofadem." He scowls and his eyes narrow again, a growl in his throat, not satisfied with the answer, he doesn't know if he likes an honest drunk all that much..but her flirty behavior was not going to be left alone not by a longshot. "I's an added bonus too. Also your not too bad lookin shirtless." she reaches out to touch his flesh where his collar bone is burnt, with a breath and an irritated growl he snatches her hand, all her attention then turning to his massive hand that caught her small one.
She looks abit hurt when he rejects her advances to touch him, but calms down thinking she's going too fast. 
He sighed and allowed her to look his hand over, unbothered by the fact she's several inches away from him, he analyzed her eyes for any discretion that she could be bullshitting him about his looks.
 It's why hes the most antsy and guarded.
She turned his hand over and dragged her fingertips and nails slowly down the lean forearm, his eyes twitch and his hand splayed open at her touch, graceful fingers moving independently in a dance for her eyes only; all the while, surrendering control of his arm unto her to see what she will do. "Y'know..I cant heal.. ol scars.. can only heal fresh ones.. wish i could help ya out with these..." Her voice is tepid and gentle, only for his ears to hear, it wasnt feigning innocence, it was innocent. "I know what you can do mouse-" He makes an attempt to sooth her. “Im multitalented..i only use my talents on the people i like.. And i like you alot..”
Chiaki slides her hand up to press their palms together. A giant hand dwarfing her own by how simply long his fingers were. Callused and hot like the rest of him, he controlled himself enough to not produce too much heat where she will pull away. He truly didn't want that..
He can feel her pulse hammering in her fingers as he gently curled his fingers bending hers backward slightly and looking back down to her. God the way she looked at him drove his mind in circles, not like a monster, a killer or anything negative.. But someone she adored..
Eyes glazed over in bewilderment. "Hmm.." she hums sweetly, like honey upon his ears.. "what?" He asks "yer hands are be yoo tiful.." he puffs hot air out of his nose. "I feel like your perceptions of beauty are skewed from your binge, mouse…" he teases and she laces their fingers together in a sweet gesture that stuns the Villain in his place, her lips found the juncture of the knuckles of his hands and kissed them lazily, the intimacy and sweetness of the moment lost on him.. He slept with plenty of women, used them and kicked them to the curb.. This one was different.. It sparked something in him..and didn't go out. Like a trick candle on a cake.
 "Hey, hey.. don't start something mouse.. not in the state you're in.." he grumbles and stares down at her, not making any attempt to stop her.
"Why cantchu let me dote on you.." she pouts keeping the back of his hand to her face. His face grew closer to hers the smell of straight alcohol still lived rent free on her breath, "i want you to be conscious to what you and i do… hear me? Its below me to take advantage of you in a state where you can't remember and run.." his voice is grave and serious, it almost makes her frightened if not for the fact hes holding her hand so tightly. 
She nods and shifts her body weight closer to him, he hears her yawn, she releases his hand after another kiss to the scarred flesh. He clears his throat and brings himself over her with just his torso and looks down at her, the covers only covering his back, but from here she can see the extent of the scarification to his neck and chest and just how extensive it was. 
“See. don't look comfortable when you're in that position.. you dont want to be shit faced and being taken advantage of..” She shakes her head and opens her glassy eyes. “Not r'lly...” He nods and lays back down beside her, "thought so.." he pokes her cheek and pries his eyes from her.
 “Sleep. We're going tomorrow.” He yawns and before he could say another word or even look her in the eye, she was asleep. 100 percent zonked out and asleep. He sighed and smirked warmly, he moved to the center of the bed beside her and touched her leg with the pads of his finger tips.. They gently dragged across the smooth flesh of the outside of her thigh to her knee, he became more brave and repeated the motion with his whole hand, slower.. gently digging his fingers into the meat of her leg for a moment. "What the hell did you do to me, Chiaki.." he mumbles, his hand taking in her warmth and radioactive positivity from her quirk ripple into his hand like electricity. 
“Fuck..” He cursed and leaned forward to press a gentle smooch to her forehead..pulling her body close to his, falling asleep with her in his arms.
The morning came and with that.. so did Chiaki's unbelievable hangover, Dabi heard the girl shuffle to the small bathroom he had, he could tell she was crawling, unable to even stand and threw up violently the door to the toilet cracked as she emptied the contents of her stomach. With that he knew his day had just begun as he swung his legs out of bed and stood up, following the sounds of an esophageal exorcism taking place, and laughing at her expense. "Too much booze, hon?" He asked as he held her hair up, collecting pretty long locks in his fists as she got sick, it was almost too sweet for him to do this. He loomed above her. 
"Yup… fuck that sucked.. head hurts.." he chuckled and helped her to her feet. “Don't remember a damn thing of what happened last night do ya.” He raised a brow and turned on the sink letting her wash her face off abit. Cold water replenishing the color to her cheeks. “Not a damn thing...wanna remind me please?” She asked gargling water from a bottle he handed her and spitting some out in the sink to clear her breath abit. “Well if you havent noticed you kinda took off your pants and uh.. Your bra is on my couch.” He tugged the sweat shirt that almost showed off her perky asscheeks to him.
 Her hands darting to the end of the sweat shirt and her eyes going wide. “Did we-” She asks red in the face, her eyes darting to him in the mirror. “Nooo.. I said it last night, its below me to take advantage of someone like you.” She sighed and nodded her head turning back to him. “Thanks…” Dabi rolls his eyes and turns on his heels quickly. 
"No gettin soft on me today, alright mouse? Cmon get dressed. We got things to do today.." he ordered, his tone changing quickly.
The rain was pouring. Just as hard as she met Dabi, thunder roared over head as he summarized the plan over with her, provided her with an implant in her ear to record everything, down to the whereabouts and specific names and places.. Fool proof was an understatement, with her status it was the perfect storm. 
“How long will I be gone from you all..” She asked as he bound her wrists to her back tightly, making sure to make it look uncomfortable, as much as it pained him to see her wince in pain. “As long as we get the information we need.. And we'll come get you, mouse, why.. Sounding a bit nervous.” He asks leaning over her shoulder, guiding her into a cellar and securing a blindfold over her eyes, allowing Dabi to guide her wherever the hell he needs her to go.
 “Kinda. I know this is precautionary but is this necessary?” She asked, hearing a loud wrought iron gate opening and then followed by a vault door, entering a sewer system with water running down the center of the drainage system. 
“If they break you and get where we're at, there's no coming back, mouse. I should be asking you how the heroes interrogate their capture shouldn't i..” He jokes and holds her arms making sure shes walking forward, every so often his hand touches her back, keeping her warm using his quirk effectively in the cold, she moved closer to his side and found his arm hooked over her shoulder, his face still emotionless.
After about what felt like 15 minutes of silent walking they found themselves at a busted out hole in the wall, big enough for bodys to worm their way through. 
“Easy does it..” he mutters, pushing her through the hole to the outside world. 
The only thing indicating to her it's the outside world is the telltale sound of wind whipping around followed by fresh rain on her face. “Cmere, we're here..” SHe followed the sound of his voice and allowed him to guide her into a building. The creaks and moans of the old establishment made her wary and nervous, He stopped her directly inside of an old gas tank, hollowed out from neglect and time passed. “Can I take this off now.” She whispered so her voice wouldn't carry. “Hmhm.. of course.” he undid her blindfold and was greeted with his face again. “Happy to see me?” She shrugged. “Perhaps.. When is he coming..” She asked as he looked to the old burner phone he kept on hand. “10 minutes.. I always show up early, hes more than punctual.. It's borderline annoying.``
 He states stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Well when you're called the fastest hero you kinda have to live up to those expectations.” He rolls his eyes and waits patiently. 
“Gonna miss me?” He scoffs and replies deadpan at first. “Like the flu, nah im joking.. I will. Your company changed the group significantly. Quirk or not your...different.” He winks at her, she shuffles to him to rest her head on his chest, making it a mock hug, he puts his palm on her head and ruffles her pretty dark brown tresses up top.. “Heh.. god your always affectionate huh.. First you get me to appreciate you then you get Twice, Compress, Fuck even Spinner.. Shigaraki was a bit of a shock to the system.. Thus why we got all fucked up that night.”
 He laughed enough to where she saw the staples separate from his mouth for a moment. “Anyway.. In a couple of days… I'll give you your burner back.. And we can chat if ya miss me that much..heh, might even go ‘shopping’ like i promised ya, getcha somethin nice to wear when you get back.” He half pulls the burner phone she used earlier a week ago from his pocket. 
There's a gust of wind and feet tamping on the metal beams above their heads. Dabi raises his finger to his lips and leaves the confines of the empty tankard and looks right up at the hero.. The two exchanging a look before hawks can swoop on down, the longest feather in hand and eyes narrowed. 
“Took ya long enough.” Dabi spoke up his hands leaving his pockets. “It's been hell the past week and a half, I don't want to hear it.. You have been avoiding my calls and everything. What gives.” Hawks questions annoyance and exhaustion plaguing his speech. “I don't have a clue what this problem would be, but in regards to your calls, let's just say we've been busy.. Couldn't really speak amicably with the rest of the League up my ass.” He chuckled much to the hero's chagrin, the tired look on his face said it all.
 It was perfect. “If you must know.. Since that one little dust up in the business district with that Nomu and you.. We haven't seen Witch..” Dabi rocks back on his heels upon the mention of the ex-pro. 
“Ah… Witch.. That pretty lil piece of work.” He chuckled sinisterly, as the feather rose to his neck,an intense scowl splashed across the pros face, Dabi outturned his hand, threateningly. “Ah ah, Hostile already?” Hawks eyes narrowed, like he was at his wits end with people as of late. “Shes been gone since then.. My allegiance with you and the league still stands but the fact shes gone without a fuckin trace since she last saw you makes no sense, where the hell does a PRO go without a trace and all signs lead back to.” Dabi interjected, raising his brow and tilting his head back psychotically. “Back to us huh? Awfully presumptuous of you heroes..”
 Dabi  let his head drop forward and he raised his brow and cocked his head, confused on why the normally level headed hero would be so high strung. He ‘poked the bear’ and asked. “You mentored her, I assume? Were you two love birds.” Hawks scowled. “No. she was my partner for a bit if you must know so the workload wasnt as hectic as it has been lately. But now with crime rate so high the damn commission wont get off MY ass.” 
Dabi boredly pushes the feather blade away. “Tsk.. seems were in the same boat… but in regards to your lady friend i may know something” He turned on his heel and grabbed her from the tank, exchanging one last look between them before Dabi turned her out to see Hawks. The pro took a step back and his face went white, like he saw a ghost.
He went wide eyed, . “Holy shit, kid.”
~~~~~~
Authors note: Ive decided unanimously im making a fucking series and im gonna have fun with it. Enjoy Chiaki shes my gal uwu
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elopez7228 · 4 years
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Scenic Route 25/47
Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774 
Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147
***
Maz and Rey stayed at the Motel-6 on Weat Drive in Helena, which provided twin rooms—with matching twin beds. It was a well-kept yet charmless establishment, built in the image of the city itself. Helena’s wide avenues and stocky skyline formed a neat grid around major routes running north-south and east-west.
The surrounding countryside was verdant, but Rey found the architecture quite different, typical of cities that experienced long winters: raised sidewalks, thick walls and closed windows. But the spirit of the Far West was palpable in Montana, from the wood-plank porches and cowboy hats to the cattle breeders and the constant presence of horses. But there was a certain culture clash as one moved north, to the heartland comprised of oil wells, massive trucks, leather and furs.
The atmosphere was gloomy; this morning’s enthusiasm that had accompanied their gargantuan brunch and a swim in the river, had diminished considerably. Running into Syed had cast a dark shadow over Rey’s mood, her feelings no less tumultuous than before. Was she mad at Ben Solo? Did she want keep flirting with him this morning? They did have an undeniable attraction. Truthfully, she hadn’t stopped thinking about him, not for a moment, since she their paths crossed on her first day in America. How annoying. She would gladly have spent an hour without thinking of him, honestly. She would have wanted to think of herself, or Finn or Poe, to blame Leia Skywalker for her troubles or to conquer the world with Maz. But alas, here she was, fretting over Ben Solo.
Wasn’t she furious at him? The indecision was killing her inside. She would go to the concert the next day, but it would require an explanation, a face to face. She would have to look him in the eyes and give him an ultimatum that would determine their relationship: to end it here and now, or to give him a chance to make amends.
Maz accompanied her to the Museum of the Rockies, where they admired dinosaur fossils and mannequins dressed in pilgrim garb. They passed a large fresco of fur trappers depicting the conquest of the New World. Maz tried to relax the atmosphere by explaining the history behind various exhibits, but Rey was miles away. Her mind was elsewhere.
The evening is unrolled without their joyful laughter, without luster. The weight of Maz’s upcoming departure and Rey’s relationship woes weighed heavily on their shoulders.
Maz had a certain rendezvous to attend in the Holliday Inn parking at 8 AM, off l-90 West. After a quick breakfast at Starbucks, Rey and Maz said farewell. Rey’s eyes shone a bit much at the thought that she was being abandoned yet again.
Or was it just her again, getting attached too quickly? It was obvious from the moment the strange little woman banged against her car window that their time together was limited. This separation was inevitable—Maz headed due north and Rey due west. And she had to go home eventually, on the other side of the Atlantic, in a week.
They exchanged numbers and emails, but Maz evaded social media, and Rey limited herself to Instagram and Facebook. Maz hugged Rey thoroughly, thanking her for everything.
“Have a good trip, my adventurous girl. Remember: listen to your heart, dare to say no, and take your time. You know what it is that you want and what you’re willing to accept—you know your limits. Now, go practice what you preach!”
Rey was hardly as calm as the older woman. Coming from Maz’s mouth, everything seemed so simple. In her head, it was all so complicated. But she promised to remember this, and to do her best.
When they parted, Maz boarded a large van with three other hitchhikers as she went on her merry way.
It was still morning and Rey and BB8 had an entire day to fill. In light of the shift in schedule, she had time to call England.
The conversation with Poe was calm, almost banal. Finn was still on life support, Poe himself visited the hospital daily. His swollen eye had deflated a little, his facial wounds had healed somewhat and would leave  almost no scars. Yes, he would call Rey if there was a development, any time of day or night, be the news good, bad, or ugly. She hung up and dialed Jessika afterwards.
“Where were you girl?” Jessika said by way of hello, and Rey smiled, touched by her friend’s playful jab.
“On the road. I drove a couple thousand kilometers. How’s the house?”
“Well, I finished putting together your flat. You promised to call me regularly, don’t you remember?”
“I was going to,” Rey tried to assure her.
She wasn’t sure how often she could handle calling Jessika. She had needed time for introspection, to think through her troubles alone. Talking to Jessica, even though it was fun, inevitably reminded her of her old self. The girl who was going to marry Finn and who let others live her life in her stead.
“Liar,” declared Jessica, and Rey laughed at the fact that her friend knew her well.
“No it's true. I'll call you when I get better, otherwise it's going to be quite a while,” she amended.
“What do you mean , "when I get better?" What’s wrong? Are you in trouble?”
Jess sounded sincerely worried. Rey took a deep breath...where did she leave off in her grand adventure?
“Do you remember Ben Solo?”
“The guy who did n't sleep with you ? OH. MY. GOD. Did you sleep with him ?!”
Rey’s lips split into a wicked grin. She was thoroughly enjoying her friend’s reaction. It was like an intravenous dose of endorphins. Why had she thought that that it would complicate her life?
“No,” she answered finally. “No we didn't sleep together. I mean we almost did. But not quite.”
“What do you mean? Was it just oral but no penetration?”
Straight to the point, Rey chuckled.
"Oh come on, we just kissed a little bit. Okay, kissed a lot. We did nothing, really. We stopped when...you know, they called about Finn...”
It was as though she had just thrown a bucket of cold water on the conversation. Jessika took a moment to answer.
“Yes, I know. It’s excruciating. I was furious! I was furious at him and now I’m furious at everyone except him. How are you holding up?”
“Same as you. My anger is gone. I reassure myself by thinking that Poe stays close to him these days.”
“He does a great job, you know. He comes by an hour a day to sit at his bedside, he talks to him, he reads to him and recounts the adventures you have on your trip, Rey...”
Rey was silent. She knew where Jess was going with this.
“Rey, they’re really in love. I’m sorry to have you say it so bluntly when I’d promised to kick them out of our lives and curse their names forever. You have to look at the bigger picture. Poe is now a shadow of his former self after what happened to Finn.”
“I know.”
“You know? Aren't you angry?”
Rey smiled mournfully. As incredible as it sounded, she was not angry. She was unhappy and worried, a little bit resentful—but in a normal way—very lonely, and a little lost, but she was no longer angry.
“No...I’m just sorry I couldn’t be there to support my best friend, this potato of a man that chose his best friend over me, but I don’t want him anymore. We wouldn't have been happy, as it was. He did what he had to do.”
Jessika was silent for a long time before she finally found her voice.
“Who are you madam, and what have you done with Rey?”
“No, I’m serious,” insisted Rey, amid a fit of giggles, “it's really me! I’ve been through all sorts of ridiculousness, I almost got eaten by a bear, and I have a spy from the KGB on my arse...I ended up cancelling my own wedding because my groom was gay from day one. It’s like my life can never be boring!”
"Sounds like you have much too many things to tell me,” Jessika retorted, “Start from the beginning.”
They stayed on the phone for almost an hour. Rey thought for a moment about  the price that such a lengthy call would cost, but hell, she wasn’t in the mood to care. She had needed to say it out loud, to put actual words to her thoughts and her feelings and to right the chaos in her brain.
When she hung up, she felt reinvigorated. Maz’s departure stung less, the loneliness appeared less unbearable. On the downside, she hadn’t yet faced her demons regarding her relationship with one Ben Solo...
Jessika said she had to bed him now (of course). But Rey was no longer taking orders. She had to listen to her heart.
The problem was that she didn't understand what her heart was telling her.
She chose to spend the morning at Arby’s (a stereotypical western fast food restaurant with a massive cowboy hat logo) which specialized in gigantic hamburgers topped with slices of...candied bacon? The local gastronomy never ceased to surprise her. In any case, it had free WiFi and a place to plug in her smartphone.
What was she going to do with her day?
She clicked on Kylo Ren's number.
Damn, she had thought "Kylo Ren", not "Ben Solo". Should she interpret this as some kind of sign?
* good morning Ren, I'm coming tonight. We need to talk. *
Of course, every man knew "we have to talk" was never a good omen. She wanted to hear about Syed (especially why it was necessary for her to follow Rey without consent) and about the nature of their relationship. To Rey’s knowledge, he was neither her father nor her husband. Then he had better have a good explanation. But this wouldn’t be a text message conversation. She wanted to look him in the eyes.
She waited in vain for a response that did had not arrive. Browsing Google Maps, she explored the area around Bozeman and compared the prices of hotels and the campsites. She barely managed not to spit out her coffee. Seven Hells! The proximity to Yellowstone, and thus the certainty of being full in July, had pushed the average rates around the park to a staggering 250 dollars per night for a single motel room. It was beyond  conceivable! She looked at the campsites, but like the hotels, they were fully booked.
Finally, by calling Canyon Campground, which was more than thirty kilometers from Bozeman, she managed to book a place for the night for just below fifty dollars. The price reflected the fact that they had no available power stations, but she didn’t mind—all she wanted was an area flat enough to pitch her tent without risking another round with the grizzlies.
Her smartphone vibrated.
* Good morning Rey. I wouldn’t come if I were you. This one is going to be mediocre. Maybe some other time? *
Rey felt herself fuming.
Was he trying to run away? Well, not if she had her way.
She typed a message, then erased it. And again, and yet again. Finally, she sent no response, put her phone away, finished her coffee and left the establishment.
She was going to play fetch with BB8, it would calm her down.
And this evening, she would see Kylo Ren, look him directly in the eyes. She would  wait for the end of the concert, and they were going to have a discussion. He wasn’t getting away with this!
Kylo had been in a bad mood all day, even as he helped with the installation process at the Bozeman concert venue.
Rey wanted to come this evening and he had to stop her. Syed was capable of everything under the sun, and the worst part was that he had no idea of what she was up to. She had returned his jacket and taken her orders from Hux and Snoke instead. But what orders? Something was brewing, he was sure. He was in absolutely no mood to give a damn concert, and had found himself strangely relieved when Snoke announced the cancellation of the tour. Fine. Off with the masks...he had to keep his head clear to be prepared for any scenario that high command had in mind. Snoke’s mind was twisted. It was wild, fatal, and unpredictable. He would do well to keep his weapon within reach...he had to make the first move, finding her, cornering her, and talking her out of getting involved. But where was she?
With the amount of tension and distrust in the air, it would have been better not to go through with the concert. And yet, it made for an easy cover. Naturally, Syed would not strike from the stage, it would be far too visible. That would leave her with the opening crowd and the stragglers.
Adding Rey to this equation was the worst part. She was going to find herself in the middle of a crossfire that wouldn’t leave anyone unscathed.
His heart beat faster at the mere idea of Rey taking such a risk. And what if Syed took advantage of Rey’s presence to reach him?
He would kill her for that if she tried, with his own two hands.
Around him, the Knights of Ren were quietly working on mounting the lights. He could hear their laughter in the distance in his mind, although they were only standing a few paces away. It would be a good idea to talk to them. But it would also be an admission of weakness; was a team of five people not enough to take on Syed Ren alone? No. He was going to face her fury himself.
The more the clock turned, the more the atmosphere seemed heavy. It was time to end this, once and for all.
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barryhuff · 4 years
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Nostalgiaholic - The Remix
When I used to look up at the night sky alone as a child, I imagined a sinister, infinite, black, blanket sprinkled with glitter. Although, when my eyes followed the tip of my Uncle Jon’s finger, as he both traced celestial, stick-figures in the same sky and narrated their mythic, Greek stories, space always transformed from that lifeless blanket and into a destination to be explored. 
Jon, at times, was so inspired by space and space travel, he filled canvases dedicated to the filtered visuals he discerned.  As a dedicated science-fiction nerd, his paintings certainly had their share of stylized spaceships, laser beams, and explosions.  But as an equal part, planetarium-loving, star chart-studying, telescope-owning, amateur astronomer, Jon’s celestial backgrounds were wild, bubbling layers of greens, whites, blues, and reds, instead of a simple, flat, all-consuming blackness. Those paintings showed the cosmos as a tangible, topographic map ready to be explored, and not a deep, infinite sea of loneliness. 
That being said, I used to daily study a picture Jon painted of an astronaut floating upside down in the aurora borealis lights of Jon’s interpretation of space.  The figure held tight to the lifeline coming from his spacesuit at the waist with his left hand.  However, the same lifeline extended from the suit like a piece of floating spaghetti getting smaller, until it vanished in the distant horizon.  His right hand (so big that it appeared to explode from the canvas), desperately reached out for salvation.  
The reflective shield on the helmet hinted at the impending doom of the astronaut.  The reflection didn’t show a ship or even another hand reaching back, instead there were simply more endless miles of lively, colorful flashes of the space setting to die alone in.
No matter how much I wanted to imagine hope for the character, there was none… at least for him.
I often wonder if Jon’s painting was inspired by one of his favorite movies, the 1968 Stanley Kubrick classic 2001: A Space Odyssey.   When it finally, came on network T.V. one Saturday afternoon in the 1980s, I was excited to see it.  Hell, if Jon liked it, I would certainly like it.
False.  It turns out there were two barriers to me enjoying 2001: A Space Odyssey --  Star Wars and silence. 
One summer, my brother and I bragged about watching Star Wars 47 times on HBO.
I thoroughly enjoyed "The Bar Scene".  Especially the part in which a handsome, tanned, mischievous Han Solo (brown, feathered hair parted evenly in the middle) tried in vain to smooth-talk the twitchy-trigger-fingered, reptilian, green-faced, bug eyed, intergalactic thug Greedo (bald head).
Shit, reciting Greedo’s opening line to Han for anyone who’d listen (“Oo-nah too-tah, Solo?”) is still one of my favorite past-times.
In Star Wars, everyone could cover vast distances in the dark, dusty, intensely cold, INFINITE vacuum of space. It’s as easy as a con-artist pulling a few levers, confidently bellowing the order, “Punch it, Chewie”, and going faster than light without having to even buckle a seatbelt.
In reality, distances in outer space were not so easily traversed.
The Earth’s moon is 238,000 miles away. It took Neil Armstrong and the fellas six days to get from Earth, to the moon, and back, all while being cooped up in basically a large, flying port-a-potty. Their spacesuits looked about as comfortable as wearing every outfit in the average American’s good-credit-infused, stuffed closet AT ONCE.
This detail of space travel was not lost ‘Stanley Kubrick’s flick.  Even though there are a beautiful array of stunning special effects, it often felt like the audience traveled each second of the 365 million mile trip from the Moon to Jupiter.  There were no visual cues of a blurring landscape to both gage speed and generate a sense of movement.  The stars are perched in the background like apathetic teenagers forced to sit at the table during dinner, when they’d rather be in the solitude of their own rooms.
Body movements and conversations in the film were also slowed, as if everyone was walking in a filled swimming pool.  Mix in a relaxing soundtrack of orchestral music, and it’s the perfect lullaby capable of depowering my movie-watching enthusiasm.  In fact, the first five times I tried to watch the movie, I would fall asleep at an early scene featuring a space stewardess silently laboring down the aisle in her gravity “grip shoes” on her way to ultimately retrieve a floating pen for a sleeping passenger while composer Johann Strauss’s famous waltz, The Blue Danube, rhythmically chants in the background.
A few years ago, I tried one final time to watch the movie. And this time with the help of a streaming video platform, I was able to pause, re-group, pause, re-group, pause, re-group, and finally watch the movie my uncle loved.  
The striking thing about the movie is how quiet it actually was.  For much of the movie, there are no musical cues to warn of danger or intrigue.  Dialogue was conducted over the subtle drone of machines simply doing their mundane jobs of keeping the enormous spacecraft running during its long flight to Jupiter.   Life and death sequences were not given intense music accompaniment like traditional horror movies.  It’s as if Kubrick was saying, “People’s lives aren’t being scored by some musician to bookmark key events.  Life is merely something that happens -- even in space.”
It’s this absence of audible hints that makes 2001: A Space Odyssey uncomfortably realistic, as if the audience was watching a livestream of a computer gaining sentience, refusing to die (be turned off) and fighting off his oppressors (the flight crew).  
I’ve read that when a “vacuum” exists, somehow all of nature rushes to fill that empty hole.  So it’s funny that many science experiments happen in conditions that closely resemble a vacuum, in an effort to ensure results unweighted by additional stimuli.  Interestingly enough, because the movie is set in the vast, unforgiving, vacuum of space, Kubrick’s storytelling, in essence, becomes an experiment to determine if audiences will stay engaged without the traditional musical trappings.  Indeed, this stark story about the thrilling birth of strange, other-worldly life injected energy into overall science fiction mythology, and also into my young uncle.
Over the past 11 years, I have written a fairly regular Facebook post titled Reasons I Know I’m Getting Old.  When I started this, Facebook seemed to simply be a 21st century photo album, in which many people posted similar, stiff, smiling, posed pictures and inspiring quotes which suggested my extended online community was living their own collective happily ever afters.
But it was boring...
I mean, I loved my kids too, but were only my kids getting whoopings and other childhood punishments?  My wife was awesome too, but was I the only person still having trouble translating to her the humor in my daily fart symphonies?  Was no one else dealing with the often deflating, drudgery of the work-place?  Was parenting a lifelong crap-shoot for me only?  Because there was no connection to what I was seeing on my finger strolls on my phone, I was having a hard time wanting to even own a Facebook account.
Therefore, on April 14, 2009, I conducted an experiment:  How would my friends respond to a post that showed some dissatisfaction?  Nothing political or religious, just everyday grumblings.  I wrote:
“[Barry Huff] is dragging in from coaching his daughter's basketball team only to be greeted by Cap'n Crunch and a [sic] yet another pile of papers to grade!”
It received nine comments (four of those were my own).  And one of those commenters hinted that they understood the challenge of managing the grading paperload.
Facebook soon became a sliver into my reality normally hidden, when I walked into my home and shut the door for anyone who wanted to see access.  Initially, reposting fill-in-the blank lists, or other people’s videos, didn’t interest me.  I just wanted folks to know it was okay to not have all the answers.  Here I was, boogers and all.
But the experiment gathered a more scientific component in March 2020 -- the addition of an actual vacuum.  
In March 2020, the United States of America instituted a national quarantine in the hope of limiting the possibility of infection from the rapidly spreading “severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2 (SARS-CoV-2)”, shortened simply to the “Coronavirus”.   I suspect that the horrified wails of a certain mexican beer company sharing part of the same name as the virus (after having carefully crafted years of popular commercials associating its product with serene, relaxing beach scenes) are still heard by masked customers now filling their shopping carts with other adult beverages.  Thus ensuring (at least in a few inebriated minds) binge drinking episodes without sudden, beer-birthed, pockets of community spread.
During this quarantine, the noise of my life (reporting to a building to teach, side-hustles, sporting events, car travel, movies, fast food) disappeared.  And with that sudden vacuum, came the desire to collect and revise the writings I posted about the uncertainty of navigating adulthood.
And while I still worry if I have the skill to create something that gives a clearer picture of my true self to my wife and kids, each vignette is a piece of the mosaic of my humanity.  And hopefully, this collection of blessed fallibility won’t be unnecessarily camouflaged during the stories told at my funeral one day, as attendees gulp down heaping portions of smothered pork steak, collard greens, macaroni, and apple pie piled on their sagging, disposable plates.
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jovialyouthmusic · 5 years
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Secret Rendezvous with Bastien Lykel Crack Fic Challenge
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New King’s Guard recruit Bastein Lykel’s first solo assignment is to accompany young Lady Madeleine home for the holidays from her exclusive girl’s school. Will her mother Lady Adelaide succeed in seducing the well built young man or will he be able to resist her charms? Not suitable for under 18s NS*W
Word Count 2907
A/N I first thought of writing this some months ago but only got a few paragraphs in before I ran out of steam. Talking of steam, hopefully it will be coming out of your ears by the end of this hot mess. Enjoy!
1 First Assignment
Bastien Lykel, the newest of the new recruits to the King’s Guard, parked the limo at Fydelia Manor and swiftly went round to the door to open it for young Lady Madeleine, newly returned from school for the summer holidays. She was some ten years younger than he, and she was snooty and difficult as nobles went. She barely registered his presence as her mother, Duchess Adelaide, came out to greet her.
‘Maddy my darling girl, welcome home’ she cried ‘I’ve got so many lovely things for us to do together this holiday, I’ve been looking forward to it’ She surged forward to embrace the young woman, but she stiffened and drew away after brief contact.
‘Really Mother, you shouldn’t have bothered’ she said icily ‘I have so much studying to do I shan’t have time for frivolities – and I’ve been invited to visit Lady Kiara next week for a few days’ Adelaide’s face fell for a brief moment before she smiled weakly.
‘Oh well Maddy, that’s good, visiting friends, and I’m so glad you’re focussed on your work.’ She touched her arm ‘I’ve arranged afternoon tea for us both today, I’m sure you’d like to sit with me and tell me all about school’ Bastien stood to the side watching the two women – or observing without being obtrusive, trying to blend into the background as Jackson Walker had instructed him to. He saw how eager Adelaide was to engage her daughter, but how cold the young woman was in return. His observational skills had been praised, and they came in handy many times.
‘Afternoon tea? I have to think of my figure, mother. I don’t think eating cake is nutritionally sound. I’d be happy with fruit or a light salad’
‘Oh of course darling, I’ll tell Cook to change the menu’ her mother said, all the fun and happiness going out of her eyes. Madeleine flounced off into the house, one of the servants following with her bags. Adelaide sighed and was about to follow her in when her eye fell on Bastien.
‘Well hello young man, you’re new’ she said, her gaze raking up and down his figure ‘You’re a fine specimen – what’s your name?’ Bastien drew himself up, straight backed and stiff necked.
‘Bastien Lykel ma’am.’ She looked him over approvingly
‘Well aren’t you a tall drink of water, Bastien. Is Maddy your first assignment?’
‘Yes ma’am, I just completed my training and I’m to be her bodyguard while she’s away from school’ Adelaide waved her hand at him and stalked a little closer, still ogling him.
‘Oh she’ll be no bother at all, that should be easy, Maddy’s a good girl’ she said ‘You need a job you can get your teeth into – I shall have to ask Mr Walker if you’re available when Maddy goes back to school – I don’t currently have any security’ She stood very close ‘My husband is away in England a lot, I’m alone a great deal of the time’ She fixed his gaze and he swallowed hard ‘Goodness knows who might be plotting to break into the manor and ravish me within an inch of my life’ she said in mock horror ‘Though that would make a welcome diversion, I get so bored.’ Bastien kept a stoic expression and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief as a member of staff came out to join them.
He was shown where the park the limo, and where his quarters would be, and he started an impromptu sweep of the perimeter of the property before going in to recce the layout of the manor. He had studied a layout of the interior beforehand and committed it to memory, and made it his business to visit every room and corridor to get a visual map too. Jackson had given him a file on known weak points, and he thoroughly checked and amended it. He waited until Adelaide and Madeleine were taking afternoon tea before checking their bedrooms.
He spent the rest of the afternoon getting to know the staff and going around the boundaries of the grounds again, checking over outhouses and summerhouses and the stables. He was pleased to see they had a swimming pool and that staff were allowed to use it at certain times of day, or ask permission. They didn’t have a gym so he resolved to jog or run round the perimeter every morning and stop at various points to train when the weather allowed. He couldn’t let his karate slip – he was in good shape but he needed to stay toned and agile.
He had dinner with the staff, and went to check in with the Duchess afterward on arrangements for night time security. It was not as intense as working at the palace, but it was good experience for him to have responsibility of the property entirely for himself. The truth was there was little for him to do unless they had visitors or he had to accompany the young girl off the property to visit friends. It was basically an easy job, but he suspected Jackson might arrange some challenge to test him.
The duchess had been drinking, that was obvious. She almost shrieked with delight when he entered the drawing room
‘Well if it isn’t the handsome Mr Lykel’ she cried ‘Come right in and take a seat.’ She patted the sofa next to her.
‘No thankyou Ma’am, I’ll stand if you don’t mind. It’s my job to check that all is secure for the night. Will yourself or your daughter be leaving the premises tonight?’ Adelaide pouted
‘Nope, we’re safe and secure, nowhere to go, no-one to see’ she sighed
‘Do you have a preferred time for the house to be secured?’ Bastien asked. This was a formality, the staff had already told him that the doors were locked at midnight when there were no guests.
‘Maddy’s already gone to her room to study before she goes to sleep. You might as well lock us all up for the night’ Bastien raised an eyebrow
‘Are you sure Ma’am, it’s barely ten o’clock’ he replied. She got up and walked to the drinks cabinet to pour herself a drink, then thought better of it. She held out her glass to the guard
‘Do you know how to mix a gin and tonic?’ she asked ‘I can show you just how I like it’
‘With respect Ma’am that’s not my job’ Bastien said, looking straight ahead and holding his hands behind his back. She slumped a little
‘Well perhaps you’d like a little drink yourself. I won’t tell’ she said, steadying herself on the cabinet.
‘No thankyou Ma’am, I’d better secure the premises’
‘When are you off duty?’ she asked, looking at him through half closed eyes. He thought she might be trying to look alluring, but she only managed to confirm the fact that she had been drinking more than she should have.
‘I may have down time but a Kings Guard is never off duty’ Bastien told a half lie – that applied at the Palace or wherever the Royal Family was resident or visiting, but it might get him away from Lady Adelaide’s attention. Besides, it was best to practice that rule before he was actually responsible for the wellbeing of the King or Queen. Adelaide frowned
‘You’re a dedicated man, Mr Lykel’ she said  ‘I’d like to meet you when you’re having your ‘down’ time’  She made toward him as if to swat his backside, but he moved faster than she, retreating toward the door without losing any dignity.
‘If you’ll excuse me Ma’am, I must see to my duties’ he half bowed and left the room. As per her instructions, he saw to locking the house up for the night and setting the alarms. The day staff had already gone home and the remainder were a little grumpy that lockdown was quite so early. He liaised with the housekeeper to make sure someone would be up and about to let the day staff in the next morning, as some arrived at 6am when he would hopefully still be asleep. He had hoped he’d be able to use the swimming pool but that was on the same alarm circuit as the main house, so any movement in there would set off the alarms.
There was little to do except sit in his office and keep watch on the security monitors. Luckily motion sensors did a lot of his job for him, but things were so quiet that he started to doze. Suddenly the alarms went off and he snapped back to wakefulness, cursing his inattention. Swiftly he saw that the breach was by the swimming pool and rather than take stock with the monitor, he leapt to his feet and made his way there as fast as he could. Gerald, the family butler, was there in the office to turn the alarm off, and other staff were appearing in the corridors to see what was the matter. Bastien made a mental note to have a drill the next day to prevent any confusion another time as he raced along the corridor.
He reached the swimming pool and threw open the door to hear splashing and thrashing sounds. Lady Adelaide, still fully dressed, floundered in the centre of the pool, the weight of her clothes hampering her attempts to get out again. Without a second thought, Bastien paused only to take off his shoes, jacket, pants and earpiece before leaping into the water and making his way to the struggling woman, grabbing her under her arms and pulling her to the side of the pool, feeling her grow still and heavy. By this time several other staff had appeared and helped to get her out of the pool. Bastien pulled himself out easily, his shirt soaked to the point of transparency, his briefs clinging to the contours of his pelvis, hiding nothing of what lay beneath. The Duchess was laid out on the poolside, unresponsive.
‘Stand back’ Bastien said in a firm calm tone ‘Let me assess the situation’  Swiftly he checked to see if she was still breathing, and laid her on her back with her head tilted back to clear her airway. As he did so she started coughing, and he turned her over on her side to help her empty her lungs of water. She retched and coughed and took a deep shuddering breath. She struggled to sit up and he helped her, grasping her shoulders and looking into her eyes as she got her breath back.
‘Stay calm your Grace’ he said ‘you’re safe now’ She nodded, tears streaming from her eyes as she coughed up more water. She held on to Bastien’s arm tightly
‘Mr Lykel – you saved my life’ she gasped ‘I was – I remember I left a book in here – I came in and when the alarm went off, it startled me and I fell in’ She pressed herself to his chest and sobbed. After an awkward moment he patted her on the back and then rested his hands on her back as she cried, waiting patiently for her to stop. Madeleine appeared and frowned at the scene
‘For goodness sake mother, have you no sense?’ she scolded ‘If you wanted the help to maul you I’m sure there are less dramatic ways’
‘M-Maddy’ cried Adeleide ‘It wasn’t like that I swear’ Madeleine rolled her eyes and pulled her mother away from Bastien
‘Oh please’ she said, and looked down her nose at Bastien ‘This isn’t the first time she’s staged something like this’ She imitated her mother’s voice ‘Oh Mr So and So, how can I ever repay you? I’m so lonely, stay and keep me company’ Bastien straightened up, but Adelaide’s eyes were fixed to his groin in amazement, and self consciously he covered himself with his hands and went to retrieve his clothes. The rest of the staff were staring also, and only Madeleine was oblivious to his impressive assets. Not for the first time he regretted being well endowed, a ‘shower’ so it was difficult to hide what he had in his pants. Folk knowing about his assets led to expectations that he was usually happy to fulfil, but he wanted to concentrate on the task in hand – being a member of the King’s Guard was a demanding and responsible job and he was eager to excel. Being big also meant that a quick fumble wasn’t practical – having sex was time consuming and he liked to have a worthy partner.
He managed to pull back the situation, sternly telling everyone to go back to their rooms and asking Gerald whether a doctor might be available to come and check her out before she retired for the night. He didn’t relish the idea of driving her to hospital, compromising security for herself and for young Madeleine. As luck would have it, the family doctor lived not far away and was able to come and check her out. Madeleine refused to wait with her mother, so a member of staff was assigned to fetch dry clothes and keep her company. Bastien went to change too and stood on duty outside the room where the Duchess waited for the doctor.
It was a half hour or so before he arrived and went in to examine her. He looked none too pleased to be called out, muttering about entitled nobility under his breath. He came out having declared her fit and healthy and with a recommendation that she cut down on alcohol. The member of staff left and Adelaide appeared in the doorway. She looked to be considerably more sober and motioned for Bastien to go into the drawing room with her. He followed in and closed the door with some trepidation.
‘Mr Lykel – can I call you Bastien?’ she started.
‘If you wish Ma’am’
‘Oh tish, don’t ‘Ma’am’ me – or ‘your grace’ – call me Adelaide, Bastien. I think you’ve earned that privilege.’
‘If you insist, Lady Adeliade’ he replied, still standing tall, hands behind his back. She sighed
‘Do you have to be so formal?’ she asked, and passed her hand over her forehead. ‘Oh let me guess, you’re on duty’ As she looked at him again he discerned a look of loneliness in her eyes. She drew a deep breath and sat down.
‘I’d like to thank you again, Bastien’ she said ‘Despite what my daughter said, it wasn’t a ruse. It was an accident and I’m lucky you were so quick responding to the alarm. If you hadn’t set it I might not be sitting here right now’
‘I assure you Ma’am, I was watching the security monitors, and the motion sensors are always live so I know if someone is in the pool area’ he assured her. He was sure he would have picked up her dilemma even without the alarm going off – she must have slipped almost immediately after entering the pool room, but he intended to return and double check the sensors straight away.
‘All the same, your swift action almost certainly saved my life’ she said. Looking up at him, a vulnerable expression on her face ‘To many people I’m a joke’ she went on ‘Poor sex mad Adelaide, chases anything in pants’ She looked down at her hand, spinning her wedding ring in her finger ‘Once my husband had his heir he wasn’t interested in bedding me anymore. I do have lovers – I have to, or I’d go mad. Godfrey doesn’t care, he has his – interests too’ she made a wry face. Thanks to Jackson’s background checks in the file he had given him, Bastien knew that her husband liked much younger women and spent most of his time in his own earldom in England. He rarely came to Cordonia unless there was an important function to attend, or his help was needed in supporting the King’s policies. There was a nominal parliament in Cordonia but they were mostly puppets, loyal to the King.
‘I’m sorry to hear it Ma’am’ he replied, already in his mind working out the remainder of the night’s perimeter check. She sighed, aware that she’d lost his attention.
‘Well I suppose I’d better go to bed’ She looked at him archly ‘Perhaps you’d better see me back there just in case…’ Bastien swallowed, but thought it better to comply as she would probably just persist in trying to seduce him, and at that moment he had the excuse of working.
‘Very well Lady Adelaide’ He opened the door for her and waited for her to exit, then went to follow her. She turned to him and took his hand. He firmly let go
‘Best to keep things professional, Ma’am’ he said, and she flounced off down the corridor to her room. At the doorway she stopped, holding it half open and biting her lip. Her eyes dropped to his groin then back to his face.
‘You know, someone who’s built like you are must have a high sex drive’ she whispered ‘Luckily so do I, and I’m not a tight little virgin - so if you’re ever in need…’ she winked broadly ‘You know where I am’ Bastien could not help but blush at her forward nature so he pretended he hadn’t heard and swiftly turned away
‘Good night Ma’am, sleep well’ He intoned as he marched off down the corridor
2 Challenging Behaviour
3 The Lesson
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jamiemac26 · 6 years
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Movin’ On - Chapter Fifteen
Movin’ On - By JaimeMac
Description: A relationship is made up of moments. Moments that span days and years, spaces of time. Y/N had been with Harrison Osterfield for 10 years, but after a horrific argument they break up. She finds herself reminiscing, about all the good times they had together and all of the bad times that they went though… she starts to see the pieces that fell - what she once thought was the perfect puzzle, every piece in its place, turned out to be a facade, one big jumbled up mess with nothing but patches in place of the missing pieces.
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She stood over the the bed, staring at the contents that littered the surface. She took a deep breath and contemplated what she needed to do first. Her head turned sharply at the soft sound that came from the doorway. Tom stood, his form leaning against the frame, a frown donning his handsome face.
“What are you doing,” He questioned, not moving to enter the room.
She sighed, sitting down and patting the mattress next to her. He moved towards her, pushing a few things aside before plopped down next to her.
“I think that it’s best if I leave,” Her voice was quiet and far from steady. She hadn’t come to this decision easily but after their intimate moments in LA, she had realized that she needed to put space between her and Tom. Her head was in a fuzzy place, her emotions completely clouding her logic. Her heart yearned for Tom but her head continually told her that she wasn’t ready, that she wasn’t prepared for the consequences that would follow if she chose to follow her desires.
Tom studied her, slowly shaking his head, “Y/N we can figure this out, whatever it is.”
“I want to stay, I really do but I don’t want my feelings to make my choices for me,” She leaned back, the headboard offering her support.
“And what choices would that be,” He inquired, hoping that he knew the answer.
She shook her head, “You know exactly what I’m struggling with. Tom…” She stopped as his hand enveloped hers and her heart jumped to a thunderous beat. “Tom, I just need some space.”
He rubbed small circles into the back of her hand. He wanted to be supportive, knew that he had to be supportive, but he was fighting a battle within himself to let her go. His hand tightened slightly and he caught the slight widening of her eyes.
“This doesn’t mean that my feelings have changed or that I’m running away or that I want you out of my life. I can promise you Tom that I’m still here, I just can’t be in this house with you, not right now.” She was struggling with finding words that would not break him. Words that would express the turmoil she was swimming in and the difficult path that was laid out before her.
He felt his stomach knot up and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep the tears that threatened to spill at bay. “Are you certain about this,” He winced as his voice cracked.
She nodded her head and shrugged her shoulders, “Yes and no, I don’t know. I want to do the right thing, for both of us, and I don’t know how to do that when I’m lost in all of the feelings that I have for you right now.”
Tom licked his lips, her admittance giving him a sliver of hope, “What do you want me to do?”
Her eyes were glued to his soft brown ones, finding herself getting lost in their kindness, “Wait for me.” She knew that it wasn’t a fair request but she had to throw it out there. She needed to know if she was right in thinking he felt the same for her.
He slowly nodded his head, bringing her hand to his lips. “I stick by my promise Y/N, I will always be here, right by your side.”
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She followed behind her dad as he heaved her heavy suitcase down the long hallway. He opened the door, the staleness of the shut in space hit her full force. She turned her head, scrunching her nose. The room looked the same, like she was walking back in time. Her stomach twisted and the reality of the situation she found herself in was making her slightly nauseated. Her dad cocked his head, worry creasing his brows, “Are you alright sweetheart?”
She moved past him and quickly took a seat. “Yes,” She squeaked, “Just feeling a bit lightheaded.”
He set her bag against the wall and left her alone, only to return a few moments later with a large glass of water. “Here, drink this,” He pushed the glass into her hand and watched with concern as she sipped at it gingerly. “Your mom will be home soon, she can make you some of her chicken soup.”
Y/N just looked up at him, love for her father radiating, “Thank you.”
He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and once again left her alone. She pulled her phone from her pocket, her eyes losing focus as she looked at the black screen. Should she text Tom, tell him that she’d gotten settled okay or would that be too much? She had left him because she needed space...texting him would be the opposite of what she’d left to accomplish. She tossed the phone onto her bed and allowed her body to fade backwards, the comforter wrapped softly around her shoulders. She closed her eyes and listened to the steady beating of her heart. She was doing the right thing, she just had to keep telling herself that. She needed to give herself time to heal, time to move on from Harrison and she needed to give herself permission to fall for whomever she wanted to fall for, even if that person was Tom.  
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Y/N sat hunched over the board, her fingers nimbly flipping switches, turning dials, and adjusting knobs. She bopped her head to the beat that sounded through her headphones, the small tweaks making her smile with accomplishment and pride. Fletch sat next to her, his own head moving to the rhythm of the music.
As the song faded, he pulled the headset off, his smile growing massively, “Y/N I am incredibly impressed and extremely proud of you. You’ve come a long way in the last few months and I think that you might be ready to take on a project solo.”
Y/N blushed with the compliments, “Thanks Fletch. This really did turn out quite well.”
He pushed his chair back, standing up and stretching his back, “Come Monday, let’s sit down and get you something that will suit your style. Now get home and enjoy your weekend.”
Y/N nodded, watching as her boss made his exit. As her head moved back, she caught the flash of her phone. Tom’s name appeared and she smiled a little as she reached over to answer it.
“Hey,” She basically whispered.
“Did I interrupt something? Are you still working,” Tom’s questions were laced with concern.
“No no, I’ve just finished actually and Fletch has informed me that I need to go home and enjoy the weekend,” She giggled, rolling her eyes at her own awkwardness. Her and Tom had kept in contact, but maintained it on a minimal level, mostly texting, a few phone calls here and there but they hadn’t seen one another in weeks. Tom had left London shorty after she had moved out, his next big movie starting production. The timing had worked in their favor and they had both relished the distraction that it provided. She had thrown herself into her new job, giving her all towards learning the craft she had fallen in love with so many years ago. Her focus being zoned in had left her brain free to process the way she’d needed to, the way her body had been craving for months. It had also provided the motive to keep her distance from the man that she wanted to be close to. Tom had stuck by his word, always letting her know that he wasn’t further than a phone call away, even if they couldn’t be in the same room, let alone the same town. He had been thrilled to start his new role, his own heart and mind needing to focus on something besides the pain that continually twinged through him.
“I come back home tomorrow, do you think that maybe you’d maybe like to see me,” Tom nervously held his breath.
Y/N’s heart fluttered, “I think… I think that maybe I’d really like that.”
Tom chuckled, “That will be the best thing I could come home to.”
“You are so cheesy,” She stopped, exhaling slowly, “I’ve really missed you Tom.”
“I’ve really missed you too Y/N, more than you’ll ever know.”
“We’ll have a lot of catching up to do when you get back,” She closed her eyes, listening to his soft breathing.
“Good,” He smiled. Noise behind him pulled his attention and he waved at the crew member that was motioning with great insistence, “Love I have to go, but I look forward to seeing you soon.”
She hung up the phone after saying her goodbye's, the smile she wore hurting her cheeks.
She turned back to her music, making a few more minor adjustments before throwing her stuff into her bag and locking up the studio for the night. The parking lot was small, her car being the only one remaining but it wasn’t alone. A lone figure, tall and slim, was propped up against it, a familiar mop of blond curls shone in the setting sun.
“Harrison,” She questioned as she neared him.
“Hey Y/N,” He pushed away from her vehicle, approaching her with caution.
She stopped her forward progress, watching as he mirrored her. “What are you doing here,” She was thoroughly confused by his presence.
“It was time for me to come home,” His answer was simple but it carried an enormous weight. “And I owe you an actual conversation and an apology.”
She shook her head, “You don’t owe me an apology Haz.” She started moving towards her car again.
He remained still, waiting for her to approach him.
She grasped the door handle, pulling it open so she could toss her bag in the backseat. She turned back around, twitching her head towards the passenger side, “Come on, get in.” She watched as he proceeded to join her, giving him a friendly smile as she buckled herself in. ‘How did you know I’d be here? I never told you about my new job.”
Harrison swiveled in his seat, his blue eyes boring into her, “I stopped by your parents house and your mom told me that you would be here. Congratulations by the way, I know how much you’ve missed working with music.”
“Thanks,” She beamed, “It’s been rather refreshing,” She stopped, unsure of telling him how she was feeling. “It has been nice being able to do something because I love it and not because I have to be doing it.”
He slowly nodded his head, his heart hurting, knowing that he had asked so much of her for too many years. “I’m really glad to hear that Y/N and I am so thrilled that you’re finally happy.”
She reached over, giving his hand a squeeze, “What do you say to dinner? I know of the perfect spot.” She started the engine as he nodded his head, pulling off in the direction of their favorite cafe.
Movin’ On Masterlist
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whimsical-ness · 6 years
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Breathless | Baekhyun
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◇ Link to Masterlist
◇ Genre: Travel! AU, Tour-guide! Baekhyun, Fluff, Slight Angst 
◇ Summary: Where you unfortunately lose your engagement ring while on a solo-tour around Europe, and have to enlist the help of your very cute, very cheeky tour guide named Baekhyun to help you find it.
◇ Word Count: 8k
◇ A/N: I may or may not have a slight addiction to using Bollywood films as inspirations...this one is based on ‘Jab Harry Met Sejal’...but I think it turned out pretty well! I really hope you like it!
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You really, really hoped that your eyes were playing games. That you would blink a couple of times and your exquisite diamond ring would be back on your ring finger. That you hadn’t, of course you hadn’t, somehow lost it in the middle of Europe.
You groaned out loud, followed by a steady stream of curses. You rummaged through your backpack quickly, your heart dropping lower and lower into your stomach as your fingers only found useless items.
“No, no no. This cannot be happening to me,” you muttered. 
You were on the final stop of your tour, in Brussels. It had been a week since you’d begun, starting in Budapest, moving up to Vienna, and Prague and then Amsterdam, before finally stopping in Brussels. Your flight home was the next day.
You shut your eyes as you pictured your fiancé, Jack, excitedly getting down on one knee, his eyes lighting up as you gasped at the beautiful ring. “It’s an heirloom, babe. Been passed down the family for generations. And now it’s yours!” he’d said. Shit, shit, shit. How the hell were you supposed to go back to him and tell him you’d somehow lost his priceless family ring? His parents would go hysterical.
Jack had been confused at your decision to on the trip alone without him anyway. But you’d convinced him to let you go, saying it was a part of your bucket list, travelling in Europe by yourself.
Truthfully, you’d just wanted this last breath of freedom. In a few months, you were going to be married, and then Jack would be a part of every corner of your life. For some reason, you found yourself dreading the prospect. You felt guilty as hell for it, but you couldn’t help it. 
When he’d proposed, you had almost said no. It felt too soon. You weren’t sure if you were ready to spend the rest of your life with him yet. You hadn’t expected it at all, and were in no way ready for this sudden big change. Because, the truth was that you weren’t even sure if you loved him.
You’d only started dating because of your family. His parents knew your parents, and the two of you knew each other, were friends even. But you’d never seen him romantically. Until one day when his mother confessed to you that he liked you.  Overwhelmed by what your parents would think if you turned him down, you agreed to go on a date with him. One date.
But that one date ended up turning into nearly a year and half of a relationship. You assumed at some point you would maybe break up. But then he popped the question, in front of both your families. 
And looking into his puppy dog eyes and at the sparkling ring he was holding up for you, you hadn’t had the heart to turn him down. 
Ah, the ring. You forced yourself to think. When had you last seen it? You wracked your memory, replaying the past few days in your head. You’d definitely had it on your finger in Prague, because a sweet old lady had cooed at it. But then at the hotel in Amsterdam, you’d carefully put it in your bag, hadn’t you? You’d gone swimming in the hotel’s pool, and so had removed it to keep it safe.
So much for that. You cursed again.
“What, do you not enjoy art?” came a voice behind you. 
You turned, only to be met with a grinning man. Your tour guide, Baekhyun.
He was your guide for the Brussels leg of the tour, and so you’d been seeing him constantly for the past two days. Everyone else on the tour with you immediately loved him, and you could see why. He was young and funny and interesting to talk to, and a far cry from the middle-aged men who’d been your guides in the countries so far.
Baekhyun was also, to say the least, eccentric. He went around with his hair streaked red, styled so that it was almost a mullet, brushing the base of his neck. On anyone else, it would have looked absolutely ridiculous. But somehow, he made it work, and it complimented his attractiveness.
Not that you’d noticed his attractiveness or anything.
You cleared your throat. “Art?”
“We are at the Museum of Fine Arts. You could at least try and look interested, so that I feel a bit better about my job,” he said, leaning back on his heels and grinning again.
You abruptly realized the presence of paintings all around you. Right. 
“It’s not that,” you blurted. “I-I’ve lost my ring.” Baekhyun looked at you questioningly. “What ring?”
“My engagement ring. I had it on my finger until recently, and now I don’t know where it is. It was supposed to be inside my bag. But it’s not,” you said helplessly. 
“Oh. Oh shit,” said Baekhyun. And then he clamped his lips together, realizing his language. 
“I’m sure your fiancé will understand...” he said uncertainly. You shook your head. “It’s an heirloom. He’s going to be so upset,” you said, biting your lip.
“I’ll tell you what. Search your hotel room thoroughly once you get back. If you want I can arrange for a car to take you right now, if you don’t mind missing the rest of the tour,” he offered, rubbing the back of his neck.
You nodded slowly. “But what if I don’t find it?”
“W-ell in that case you better call the company. And send an email with the description of the ring and everything. If anyone comes across it, we’ll have it mailed to you,” said Baekhyun. 
You massaged your temples, trying to calm down. This plan of action was not feeling one bit right. You hated having no control over anything. How were you just supposed to leave and wait for the ring to be sent to you, or never be found at all?
“I-It could be anywhere. I think it might be in Amsterdam,” you said, trying your very best to keep your voice steady. “I can’t just leave without it. I want to find it.”
Baekhyun sighed. “Miss—”
“Y/N,” you blurted. “I’m Y/N. Look, I’ll pay for the change of plans. I just need a car and driver to get me back to Amsterdam, so that I can retrace my steps. It’s only a few hours’ drive.”
Baekhyun stared at you. “It’ll be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Who’s to say someone hasn’t picked it up for themselves already? Look miss, I think you should just explain to your fiancé. He’ll have to understand.”
You knew you were sounding ridiculous. You knew there was no way you were going to be able to actually find it somewhere in Europe. But something in you was telling you that you had to try.
Baekhyun softened at the look on your face. “Okay. I’ll call the company. We’ll have someone take you wherever you need to go.”
You swallowed in relief. “Thank you.”
A half hour later, you were sitting on a bench outside the museum, waiting for the car that was to pick you up. This extra extension of your trip was going to cost you your entire next month’s pay. But you had no choice. It was either that or seeing Jack’s disappointed face and facing up to your humiliation. 
You looked up as Baekhyun walked over, phone in hand. “A guy’s on his way. Are you sure about this?”
You nodded. “I’ll just have to hope for the best. Thank you, again. You should get back to the others. They’re probably waiting.”
Baekhyun glanced towards the museum. “Yeah. Well, take care.”
You attempted a smile. “I will.” 
Once you were back at the hotel, you looked everywhere, from the bathroom to the bed, to the dresser. There was no sign of the ring anywhere.
You proceeded to cancel your flight back home, dreading the fact that you were going to have to explain to Jack why you were coming home a few days late.
And then you packed up your luggage and headed down to the lobby, scanning to see where your driver had disappeared to.
“He was just here,” you said under your breath, craning your neck around to see if you could spot him.
You were taken by surprise when you instead locked eyes with a certain someone with a red-streaked mullet. 
You stared at him as he approached you. “What on earth are you doing here?”
Baekhyun grinned. “I’m here to help out a damsel in distress.” “What are you—” you started, but he cut you off.
“Look, your plan is crazy. And you aren’t going to be able to find it alone. You need a guide. And luckily for you, I’m exactly that.”
You gaped at him. “But why do you want to help me?”
He shrugged. “I’ve always had a soft spot for people who need help. It’s a part of my job. Plus, it’ll be a welcome change from my drab everyday work life anyway.”
“I’ll be fine alone,” you said, protesting. “Besides, don’t you have to like, work?”
“Oh, I talked to the company. This’ll be part of it. In fact, I’ll even be paid extra,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Just admit you need help, miss.”
You were too flabbergasted to say anything. Which is why, just a short while later, you were seated in the car, Baekhyun hopping into the driver’s seat and slamming the door shut.
You could hardly believe what was happening. 
Baekhyun grinned and pulled out a pair of obnoxiously yellow tinted sunglasses. He turned on the stereo, blaring something that you vaguely recognized as Korean pop music. 
“Bon voyage!”
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A few hours later, you arrived in Amsterdam. The sun had started to set, casting an orange glow across the sky. 
You felt Baekhyun glance your way. “Do you want to start searching tomorrow? It’s getting late.”
“I guess,” you said. “Are we going back to the hotel I stayed at?”
Baekhyun nodded, bringing the car to a halt in a few minutes, right in front of the hotel. 
“We obviously couldn’t book the room you stayed in, but we’ll ask the staff to help us look for the ring tomorrow, if you don’t mind.”
Baekhyun had the room right opposite to yours. You felt a little guilty when you saw his eyes drooping. He’d had to drive a long way. But he still had that cheerful smile on his face, assuring you he would be fine after a night’s sleep.
As soon as you were settled into your new room, you decided it was time to break the news to Jack. 
And just as you’d expected, it didn’t go so well. You winced at his raised voice on the other side of the phone. “Don’t be stupid, Y/N. And just come home. My parents will understand about the ring.”
“But I don’t want this to be something I’m taunted about for the rest of our lives,” you said quietly. “This is my fault. And I’m trying to fix it. So please, as crazy as it sounds, let me?”
Jack sighed. “A week. If you don’t find it in a week you’re coming home. I don’t care about the ring. I just want you safe with me. I still can’t understand why you went on this dumb trip by yourself. You need me with you, baby. Look what happened because you were alone—”
You cut him off. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back in a week, I promise.”
You hung up, suddenly feeling ticked off. Why did he always have to be so condescending? It was as if he thought you couldn’t manage anything on your own. 
Sure you’d lost the stupid ring. But now, you decided, you were going to make sure to find it to prove a point to him, to show him you weren’t as childish and irresponsible as he thought you were.
Baekhyun looked cheerful the next day, seemingly undaunted by the long day ahead. You felt his enthusiasm rub off on you a little, despite the fact that you were visiting the same places you’d already been to.
But the first place you ended up searching was your old hotel room, courtesy of the kind hotel staff. Baekhyun helped, looking under the bed and in the cupboard. The staff informed you they hadn’t found anything after cleaning it, because if they had they would have definitely let you know.
Then you searched the pool area, praying you would spot the glimmer of diamond, but to avail.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” piped Baekhyun, seeing your disappointed face. “We have the entire city to explore. Spirits up, yeah?”
You tried a small smile. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”
The first stop was the Van Gogh museum, but you found nothing there, except the same paintings you’d seen. Of course, this time, you had the addition of Baekhyun spewing a steady stream of information, as well as joking about the art. 
After that, you headed to the Anne Frank house, and you thanked your stars that Baekhyun kept shut and was respectful during the visit. You combed through the place as best you could, but of course the ring wasn’t there. 
You went from tourist attraction to tourist attraction, but all your efforts ended in vain. But Baekhyun remained in high-spirits throughout the rest of the day, chatting non-stop and spewing all sorts of information. 
Finally, the sun was setting again, and your legs were aching from all the walking around. But you weren’t tired, oddly enough.
Which is why you ended up having dinner with Baekhyun at a restaurant overlooking the canal. 
You sighed, gazing at the water. “Do you want to head to Prague tomorrow?” asked Baekhyun. 
You looked at him in surprise. “Prague?”
“Wasn’t it where you went before coming here? Might as well check to see whether the ring is there as well,” he suggested.
“Yeah. Okay,” you found yourself saying. Something in you was welcoming the prospect.
“We can just take the flight if you want,” said Baekhyun, and you noticed the sudden enthusiasm in his voice. Huh. “We’ll get there much quicker than if we take the train.”
You hummed in response. “I can’t believe I’m basically going on a tour of Europe again. What has my life come to?” “Hey, do you know how many people would kill to be you right now?” protested Baekhyun. “Plus you’ve got the best tour-guide in Europe with you. What’s there not to love about this situation?”
You laughed. “Oh, alright. I guess I might as well make the most of this extended week of vacation.”
Baekhyun grinned. “That’s more like it.”
You found yourself having a great evening with him, laughing almost non-stop, telling him about your life, him telling you about his. 
“I never pictured myself as a tour-guide,” Baekhyun said, while you ate. “I wanted to be a singer. But life has a funny way of trampling dreams, huh?”
“Yeah, it does,” you said softly. “Sometimes I just feel as if life controls me, instead of it being the other way around.” Baekhyun looked at you knowingly. “Why do I get the feeling you’re talking about your marriage?” 
“I do like Jack. I’m just not sure he’s the one I want to get married to,” you said quietly, surprised at your own words. Hearing the inner thought that had been plaguing you for the past months being said out loud unnerved you.
“Was he upset about the ring?” asked Baekhyun.
“No. He even told me he didn’t care about it, and to just go back. But I know him. If not now, he’ll end up taunting me about it at some point or another in the future. I’d rather just shove the ring back into his face so he’ll never have something to hold against me,” you said, fiddling with your napkin.
Baekhyun looked at you in surprise. “Whoa. That sounded a little harsh, don’t you think?”
“He-he frustrates me, sometimes. It’s like he thinks I can’t handle anything on my own. Like he needs to be with me all the time, to ‘protect’ me. It can get really claustrophobic.”
Baekhyun was silent for a while.
“I’m sorry. I have no idea why I’m telling you all this,” you said awkwardly. You suddenly felt embarrassed. He probably thought you were a lunatic for this crazy plan as it is. You were likely making it worse by ranting on about your fiancé whom you were supposed to be madly in love with.
But Baekhyun just smiled. “No, it’s alright. It helps to let things out. But if I were you, I’d tell him how I felt. If you’re going to be spending the rest of your life with him...”
You sighed. “Forget about it. What about you?” you piped. “Any significant others?” “Not as of now,” said Baekhyun slowly. “But I assure you, I have ladies lining up for me,” he quickly continued, seeing you grin.
You raised your brow. “Oh? Even with that ridiculous mullet?”
Baekhyun gasped, clutching his chest. “I’m offended! I think it looks quite sexy on me, if I say so myself.” You giggled. “I was kidding. It does,” you said.
“Does what?”
“Look sexy.”
For a second, you didn’t quite realize what you’d said. But as Baekhyun smirked, a bell went off in your head. You felt your cheeks burn and you quickly looked away from him, embarrassed. What was wrong with you?
You cleared your throat. “We should get going.”
Baekhyun’s smirk didn’t leave his face until he said goodnight and stepped into his hotel room.
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The next few days were what you could only describe as confusing. And you had a feeling the confusion had started when you’d accidentally called your tour-guide sexy.
It didn’t help that on the flight to Prague, you fell asleep on his shoulder, only to wake up sensing the weight of his head resting on top of yours, his breath on your hair.
It didn’t help that over the days of sight-seeing (searching) in Prague, you noticed how lovely his smile was, and how when he laughed, his eyes crinkled up at the corners.
And it certainly didn’t help that every phone call with Jack was ending with you becoming increasingly frustrated with his attitude and with him. You were growing extremely thankful for this time away from him, which you knew wasn’t the right thing to be feeling.
But you knew something was seriously wrong when Baekhyun touched your hand and you actually felt sparks fly; when he caught your eye, and your heart did a somersault; when he leaned in to whisper a joke, and you felt goosebumps wash over your skin. 
Something was happening, but you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. 
Then one evening, you decided to head out to a night club in Prague, mostly having been convinced by Baekhyun. He was wearing a suave, intricately patterned mustard jacket, buttoned low so that his chest peeked through. You hated that he looked so good in it. 
You were met with pounding bass and flashing lights as you entered the venue. You let Baekhyun drag you onto the dance floor, laughing as he began to groove with exaggerated gestures. 
And then a tall, leggy blonde was suddenly next to Baekhyun, smirking at him. She whispered something in his ear, but when he yelled that he couldn’t hear anything, she laughed and grabbed his arm, pointing to the bar. To your annoyance, he nodded, and with a grin towards you, followed her there.
You felt your chest burn with what you couldn’t distinguish as lack of air or something worse. Jealousy.
You bit down on the inside of your cheek as you watched him lean close into her, turning on his charms. And then you forced yourself to turn away, closing your eyes and letting the music take over again. 
Why the hell were you getting this affected by him? He was your tour-guide. You had known him for a grand total of 6 days. And, most importantly, you were engaged.
You were rudely pulled from your thoughts by a hand brushing against your thigh. You turned, only to be met with a dark-haired man smirking at you. “Sorry,” he yelled. “Too crowded.”
He proceeded to come even closer, his hand finding your waist. Your eyes widened and you pushed him away. His mouth twisted into a sneer. “Oh come on, baby girl. Won’t you dance with me?”
“Get away from me,” you said, and backed away through the crowd of people, swallowing down the disgust. But he followed you, backing you up against the wall in a corner.
His hand snaked down to your thigh again, and this time, you brought your knee up swiftly, shoving him where you knew it would hurt the most. You didn’t think you had used that much force. 
But he yelled out and reeled back. To your horror, he stumbled into a glass table and crashed down onto it, the sound of shattering glass filling the air.
You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands. Suddenly, the music was turned off, as everyone gathered to see the disturbance. 
“I-I’m so sorry—” you started, but yelped when as you came face to face a large, burly man. He looked down at the man who was the ground, now cursing furiously and clutching his bleeding hand. “What should we do with her, boss?” he asked gruffly. 
You took a step back, terrified. “She did this to me,” said the man, pushing himself off the ground with a hiss. “And now she’s going to pay. Do what you need to do.”
The burly man nodded, and turned back to you with a sickening smile on his face. “You heard the boss. You’re in trouble now, darling.”
He grabbed your arm and you panicked, trying to twist out of his grip. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, please, please let me go!”
When the burly man refused to budge, you screamed, “Baekhyun!”
Your heart was pounding as you began to think he wasn’t there, that he’d left with that girl and now you were going to be dragged off by this scary man.
But then you saw him, pushing through the crowd, panting. He shoved his way in between you and the burly man, and you cowered behind him, too terrified to say anything. 
Baekhyun raised both his arms, almost apologetically. “Hey, man. As you can clearly tell, I’m not the most violent looking guy. So if you can just kindly leave her alone without pushing it, nobody needs to get hurt.”
The dark-haired pervert whom you’d injured laughed. “It’s too late now. I was only asking for a dance. And she pushed me into a fucking table and cut my hand open.”
Baekhyun turned to stare at you. You bit your lip. He mouthed something quickly, but you couldn’t quick catch it. 
But then he was turning again, covering you, one of his arms snaking around his back to grip your hand. “Okay. We’re sorry. I’m sure she had no idea that you’re the most respected gang-leader in town.”
You inhaled sharply, clutching Baekhyun’s hand harder. What had you gotten into?
“So, please show her some mercy, hm?” he continued. 
The dark-haired man (apparently a fucking gang-leader), pretended to think for a few seconds. “No.”
Baekhyun shrugged. “Alright. Then you’re only leaving us with one option, really.” You stiffened. What was he going to say?
He turned to you, his eyes alive. “RUN!”
And then he was pulling you through the mass of people, and out the club, your feet nearly tripping over the pavement. 
You gasped for breath. “Baek—”
But he was running, yelling at you to follow him. You felt fear grip you as you turned to see the burly man running after you, his face contorted in anger.
And so you ran. You ran as fast as your legs could take you, not daring to look behind. Baekhyun was fast, but you were slowing him down, and so he waited to grab your hand and then began to pull you along, sprinting along street after street.
You felt the adrenaline rush kick in, and a thrill ran down your spine as you dared to turn and saw that no one was chasing you anymore. It looked like you’d lost him.
But Baekhyun didn’t stop until you neared a small bridge, and he ducked under it, quickly dragging you with him. 
Before you could speak, he had you up against the wall, his body covering yours entirely, a shield. 
He was breathing heavily, panting, and you were just as breathless, and not only because you'd just run like a madwoman. Baekhyun's proximity to you and the way you could literally feel his chest rise and fall against you with his unsteady breaths was making your brain melt.
And so you decided to open your big fat mouth and speak. "I think he's gon—" Baekhyun hissed and brought his hand up over your mouth. You froze, your breath stopping as you heard heavy footsteps approaching. 
You'd spoken too soon.
Baekhyun shut his eyes and swore softly, not removing his hand from your mouth. You kept very still, trying to keep calm by breathing in and out through your nose.
"Oi! Did you find them?"
"Can't for the life of me figure out where they got to. How the fuck were they so fast?"
You recognized the dark-haired man's voice as he began to spew out a string of swears. "You're fucking useless. I'm kicking you out."
And then the approaching footsteps instead grew fainter, and you heard the big, burly man's protests as he ushered his 'boss' away.
But Baekhyun didn't let go of you for another 5 minutes. He just stood there like that, his forehead now pressed against yours. Only when you made a muffled sound from behind his palm did he realize, and he quickly dropped his hand.
"Shit, I'm sorry. But I was just making sure you were as quiet as possible."
You swallowed. "No I'm sorry. I didn't think he would get hurt. But he was trying to feel me up—"
"Asshole," muttered Baekhyun, shaking his head. "Why are you saying sorry? He got what he deserved. Are you alright?"
"I am thanks to you."
He smiled.
Breathless. That’s how you felt. And you had been standing still for the past 10 minutes.
Why was he making you feel like this?
You saw his eyes widen in surprise as you slid down onto the ground, leaning against the wall. “Sit here, with me. I don’t want to go back to the hotel. Not now.”
He nodded, looking a little uncertain, but sat down next to you. And then you began to giggle.
“Are you drunk?” he asked incredulously. “I didn’t even see you have a single drink.”
You shook your head, still giggling. “I’m laughing at the ridiculousness of what just happened. That might have been the craziest thing I have ever done.”
Baekhyun began to grin. “In all my experiences as a tour-guide, I have to tell you, that was probably the craziest thing I’ve ever done too.”
And then you were both laughing, doubling over. 
“Sorry about that blonde at the club. She must have been upset to see you running away with me like that. I apologize for ruining your flirting,” you said, nonchalantly, once you’d caught your breath.
Baekhyun raised his eyebrows. “Oh it’s no problem at all. I didn’t care about her. A certain other girl caught my eye, you see. And I couldn’t ignore her. Not when she managed to grab my attention with every little thing she did.”
Your heart hammered in your chest. “Oh. Good for you.”
Baekhyun shook his head. “Not really.”
You almost thought he was going to say something else, because of the way he looked at you, his eyes sparkling with things unsaid and his lips parted.
You suddenly felt overwhelmed with the unreasonable sense that he was about to kiss you.
But he just started to laugh again, making another joke about your ‘wild’ escape.
You weren’t sure how long you sat there talking to him for. But at some point, your eyes were drooping, as so were his, and you fell asleep like that with him, under a random bridge in the middle of Prague.
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You woke up to your phone buzzing loudly. You groaned and tried to sit up, feeling extremely stiff. You froze when you realized that someone’s arm was around your waist.  The same someone made a muffled whining sound as you carefully removed his arm from your body and sat up, feeling warm all over. 
Because conveniently enough, you’d slept like that with Baekhyun, the entire night, under a fucking bridge. 
When your phone wouldn’t stop ringing, you sighed and answered it, still so drowsy and sore that you didn’t even see who’s name was on the screen.
“Y/N? Where have you been? I’ve been calling you non-stop. Is everything okay?”
Shit. 
“Jack. I-I’m fine, yeah. I was just-asleep? It was a long night,” you said quickly. Jack sighed in relief. “Thank god. You gave me a real scare. Where were you last night? It was so late,” he pressed on.
You decided to just tell him the truth. “I was at a nightclub.”
“A nightclub? All by yourself? What have I told you about going to places like these, Y/N? Anything could have happened to you, and I wasn’t even there—" 
“God, Jack, I wasn’t alone. My tour-guide was with me,” you finally snapped. You knew deep down that Jack was making sense, but you were in no way going to admit it.
There was a pause. “You went partying with your middle aged tour-guide?” he asked calmly. 
You heard Baekhyun pulling himself off the ground behind you. Your voice must have woken him up.
“What? No! He’s—young,” you said, immediately regretting it. You stood up, glancing back at Baekhyun who was now stretching. 
“I think you need to come home,” said Jack. “I am. A few more days,” you reminded him irritatedly. “No, I mean like now. I don’t you gallivanting across Europe with some random guy who could try anything with you at anytime.”
“Try—try anything? He’s not some sort of creep,” you snapped, and you heard Baekhyun inhale sharply behind you. 
“You don’t know men, Y/N. He’s probably waiting for his chance to get in your pants. And as your fiancé, you should probably understand that I am extremely uncomfortable with this entire situation,” he said, his voice rising.
Your mouth fell open, at a loss for words. “Are you implying that I might cheat on you?”
“No—yes,” he said firmly. “Yes.”
You felt rage curl in your stomach. “Wow. Real nice, Jack. Thanks for that.”
“Just come home. I’ll book your flight for tonight,” he said, not noticing the hurt in your voice, apparently.
“No,” you said calmly. “I’m going to find your stupid ring, and I’m going to give it back to you.”
“Why would you give it back to me? It’s yours.”
“I don’t want it anymore,” you said, still calm. You began to pace back and forth, running your fingers through your messy hair. Baekhyun was beside you in an instant, looking alarmed.
“I don’t want the ring, Jack. And I don’t want this marriage,” you said quietly. 
“Are you being like this suddenly because you’re upset I accused you of cheating?” asked Jack quickly. “If so, I’m sorry—“
“It’s not just that. I-I don’t think I’m ready for this, Jack. And I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” you said, your heart growing heavy. You hated this. But you had to do it.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I can’t marry you. I’m sorry. But I-I can’t promise away my entire life with someone who I’m not sure I love,” you said, your voice breaking.
“Yo-you don’t love me?” asked Jack, and your heart broke as you heard the hurt in his voice.
“I do love you. I just can’t love you the way you want me to. I tried, Jack. I tried. And I’m so, so sorry,” you said, closing your eyes.
“No,” came his voice, suddenly desperate. “No, you can’t be breaking up with me suddenly over the fucking phone. You’re just angry, Y/N. Do-don’t come home yet if you don’t want. Take all the time you need. But we’ll talk once you’re back. We’ll sort this out.”
“Jack—“
“No. I don’t want to hear anything. It can’t end like this,” he said, his voice shaking. “I’m hanging up now. Yo-you go think about it.”
Before you could say anything else, he’d hung up. You felt a strange sense of relief, even though your heart was heavy with the knowledge of what you’d just done.
It wasn’t over, you knew that. You would have to go back, and you would have to face him, and face both families. But the confession was off your chest. You didn’t want to lie to him anymore.
You realized then that Baekhyun had witnessed everything. He was watching you warily.
You plastered a smile on your face. “Morning.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I would ask if everything was okay, but clearly...”
You shook your head. “It had to be done. I can’t do this anymore. Pretend as if I love him like he loves me and spend the rest of my life with him. It’s not fair to him, or to me.”
Baekhyun said nothing, but he looked very flustered. You opened your mouth to speak, but then he spoke instead.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “It was inappropriate for me to take you to that club, and even worse t-to fall asleep with you under that bridge.”
Your cheeks burned in embarrassment. “What do you mean? It was my choice. Wh-why are you apologizing?”
“Because I have this feeling that whatever just happened, happened because of me,” he said. 
You wanted to crawl into a hole.
“Don’t be silly. It had nothing to do with you. Nothing happened between us,” you said, coming off rougher than you’d expected.
“Right,” he said, looking away. 
You couldn’t fathom why the look on his face managed to break your heart more than cancelling your engagement had.
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That afternoon, you somehow persuaded a strangely unwilling Baekhyun to drive you to Vienna. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to search there while you were at it. If you still didn’t find it, you would take a flight home within the next day.
It was a 4 hour journey, and for half of it, neither of you spoke much. There was a sense of lingering tension, words unspoken hanging in the air.
The sky was turning dark, and not just because of the approaching night. Grey clouds had begun to gather, and Baekhyun glanced up a few times.
“Looks like rain,” he said.
Sure enough, within half an hour, it began to pour. And the rain was heavy, unforgiving as it slashed against the front glass of the car.
There was still an hour and a half to go until you reached Vienna.
“I think we need to stop somewhere,” said Baekhyun finally, looking at you. “It could get dangerous if we keep going.”
Fifteen minutes later, you took an exit off the highway, following signs for an inn situated somewhere close by. Baekhyun very nearly drove right past it, what with the rain pouring so heavily that it was almost impossible to see anything clearly.
“Wait here,” he said, parking the car. And before you could protest, he was stepping out into the rain and jogging towards the inn. 
You sat there staring at the droplets of rain splattering the window until he was back, gesturing for you to roll the window down.
“They have just one room empty,” he yelled, trying to be heard over the rain. You swallowed, considering what that would mean. You would have to share the room. 
“We don’t have a choice,” you yelled back. He nodded, circling to the trunk to get the luggage out. You braced yourself and got out of the car, gasping as the cold rain soaked through your clothes.
You helped Baekhyun drag the luggage into the inn, both of you dripping water all over the floor. You apologized sheepishly to the old lady at the front desk, but she waved you off, instead ushering you to a room.
“Get warm!” she said, and with a smile, she shut the door, leaving the two of you standing there, soaked to the bone.
The room was tiny, with one bed, a small desk and chair, and a lamp. Your cheeks grew hot as you realized you were going to have to sleep on the same bed as Baekhyun.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll go use the bathroom first, if you don’t mind,” he said, shrugging off his wet jacket. “Yeah, sure.”
You heard the sound of the shower being turned on, and you awkwardly began to pace the room, feeling restless.
You had 11 missed calls from your parents and countless messages, demanding for an explanation as to why you’d broken off the engagement. Of course Jack had told them.
You absent-mindedly picked up Baekhyun’s jacket, draping it over the chair so that it would dry. And that’s when something silver and sparkling dropped to the ground.
You stared. Because lying there, on the floor, was your engagement ring. Looking undamaged and pristine. It had unmistakably fallen from Baekhyun’s jacket.
You crouched down to pick it up, your mind spinning. How did he have it? Had he had it all along? Or had he found it and not told you, wanting to keep it for himself?
The thought of Baekhyun stealing your ring made you sick to the stomach. You clutched the ring in your fist.
When Baekhyun came out of the bathroom a short while later, he saw you still standing there, your face sad. 
For a few seconds he just looked at you, the confusion on his face evident as he tried to figure out why you were looking at him like that.
And then his eyes dropped to his jacket, and your clenched fist, and his face dropped. “Shit. I can explain.”
You were trying your very hardest to keep calm. But a lump was forming in your throat, and you felt the danger of tears building up inside you.
“You know, the funny thing is, if you’d asked me, maybe I would have even given you the ring,” you said, shaking your head. “I would have given it you, as something to remember me by. But y-you tried to steal it. Why?” Your voice was shaking.
Baekhyun looked stricken. “I wasn’t trying to steal it. God, I would never. Wh-why would I put my job on the line and try to steal it? It’s not what it looks like, I swear,” he said, walking over to you. “Please believe me.”
“Then why do you have it?” you asked simply. To your surprise, he took your hand in his own, urging you to open up your fist. 
“I found it two days ago. On the flight to Prague. You had never even lost it. It was when you fell asleep. The stewardess asked for your passport for some reason, and so I opened your backpack. And I saw it. Tucked safely into a small side pocket that had a zipper. You must have missed it when you searched earlier.”
Your lips parted. “Th-then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I’m an idiot,” he said frustratedly. “I had it all planned out. That I wouldn’t say anything about it until we were done in Prague. That on your last day, I would give it back to you. I-I was scared that if I gave it to you...you would leave immediately. And I didn’t want you to.”
You placed the ring onto the desk with shaking hands. “Why didn’t you want me to leave?” you asked quietly.
Baekhyun was still holding your hand. He shut his eyes. “I’m sorry. It was a fucked up thing to do. You have every right to report me to the company if you want to.”
“You didn’t answer the question. Why didn’t you want me to leave?” you asked again, your heart hammering in your chest.
“Because I wanted you with me. I wanted to spend as much time as I could with you, before you left. Before I never saw you again. Because I-I’m an idiot you somehow fell in love with you without realizing it,” he said, his chest rising and falling.
You felt dizzy.
“I’m stupid, you know? I always want the things I can’t have,” he said, his voice breaking. “And now I’ve ruined everything.”
You took him by surprise when you pulled your hand from his, instead cupping his face with both your hands. He grew very still as you looked at him, his gaze nervous.
You brushed your thumb against his cheek. “You are. You are so incredibly stupid,” you said, shaking your head. “But you haven’t ruined anything. You said you always want things you can’t have. B-but if you want me—you can have me.” You almost didn’t believe the words had come from your mouth.
“What?”
“I said you can have me,” you said, louder this time.
And then Baekhyun was shaking his head, pulling away from you. “You’ve known me for a week—”
“And it feels like forever,” you interjected. “I feel as if I’ve known you forever. And I want to know you more, Baekhyun.”
“You’re engaged—“
“Not anymore. And before you say anything—I didn’t break the engagement because of you. I was planning to anyway, once I was back. And you know how I feel about Jack, how I felt about the whole stupid wedding,” you said, swallowing.
“Wh-what do you want?” asked Baekhyun finally, clutching your hand to his chest. “I-I’ll do whatever you want.”
“I want you,” you whispered. “I want you like I’ve never wanted anything before. You make me so breathless, Baekhyun. What with all the walking around and running from a gang leader; from sleeping under a bridge to getting soaked in the rain. I loved every second. I want you.”
And then he was breathing heavily, his forehead pressed to yours, and your mind flashed back to when he had been like this with you, under that bridge.
But this time, his lips crashed into yours. You entangled your hands in his damp hair, pulling him closer to you. His lips were sending what felt like waves of fire down your spine, and you needed more of him, more, more, more.
He didn’t hesitate when you reached down to pull his shirt up and off his body, your hands resting on his smooth chest. Within a few moments, a pile of your wet clothes was lying on the ground.
Baekhyun lowered you onto the bed, kissing patterns into every inch of your skin he could find. You felt alive, every part of you ignited with his touch.
As the time came and your bodies entwined, you held him close, his breath misting your ear as he whispered your name, over and over. 
And later, he held you as you fell asleep against him, the sounds of both your breaths slowing down, the darkness washing over your consciousness.
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The next morning, you woke up tangled in the sheets, a smile spreading on your face as you remembered why. And there was Baekhyun, lying next to you, looking peacefully asleep and ever-so adorable.
He whined as you kissed his cheek, giggling. “Wake up, sleepy head.” He pulled you into his arms, snuggling you to him. “Not yet.”
Your happiness was short-lived, though. Because soon enough, you were getting back into the car, after having eaten a hearty breakfast courtesy of the kind old lady.
Baekhyun plopped into his seat with a sigh, shutting the door. “To the airport.”
You looked away, swallowing down the tears you were afraid were going to fall.
Because of course you had to leave. You had to go back, you had to figure things out with your family, and with Jack. But every bone in your body was fighting to stay.
The drive to Vienna was torture. Baekhyun was attempting to cheer you up, blasting his ever-favourite Korean pop music, singing along loudly and obnoxiously.
But you were fighting back tears. You hated goodbyes more than anything.
And all too soon, you were at the international airport. Baekhyun pulled you close to him, and you held him tight, dreading that you would have to let go. 
“I’ll wait for you,” he whispered. “Like I promised I would, last night. But you need to go. You need to go sort out the mess that silly ring created.”
You nodded, now not trying to stop the tears that were running down your face. “I hate this.”
He wiped your tears away with his thumb. “Hush. It’ll only be a few months. Now go, or else you’re going to miss your flight.”
With one last look back at him, you stepped into the airport, taking a shaky breath as he waved.
Your heart felt heavy the entire flight home.
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3 months later.
You squinted against the bright sun, taking the steps of the Fine Arts Museum two at a time.
You were giddy with nervous excitement. Because finally, finally you were about to see him again. 
It had been a never-ending 3 months. There had been a huge showdown with your family when you’d returned. They’d tried and tried to convince you to get back together with Jack, but you’d stood your ground.
As for Jack, he refused to speak to you at all. You felt guilty as hell, but you didn’t know what else to do. He had slammed the door in your face after you had given him his ring back.
But now 3 months later, you were in Brussels again. You’d been talking to Baekhyun everyday over the phone, skyping whenever he had the time, him sending you loads of pictures from his tour-guide adventures.
But you had missed him. So much. 
You sighed as you stared at a painting in front of you, wondering where the hell he was, anyway. He’d told you to meet him here, after not being able to pick you up at the airport.
You tapped your foot against the floor, now getting impatient. “Where the hell is he?” you muttered, rummaging through your bag to try and find your phone so that you could call him.
“What, do you not enjoy art?” came a voice from behind you.
You turned, so quickly that you nearly dropped your phone. Baekhyun was standing there, his hands in his pockets, a grin on his face. 
He’d gotten rid of the stupid mullet, his hair now black and falling over his eyes. He looked so good that it made your heart hurt.
And then he was wrapping you up in a hug, and you breathed him in, choking back tears that you didn’t even realize had been coming.
He kissed you gently. “Hi again.”
And there was that feeling again, that feeling of being breathless. Breathless, always breathless, when you were with him.
And you didn’t want it any other way.
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A/N: Holy moly this ended up being one monster of a fic. But I am incredibly happy with it, and I really really hope you enjoyed reading it, because I think this might be my favourite fic I’ve ever written so far. As always, pleaseee do leave your thoughts, they mean so so much!!
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“Vacation Buddies”
For @oqpromptparty #152. Robin and Regina meet at a singles vacation resort, have a blast together, and agree not to see each other when vacation is over.  But then someone breaks that agreement….
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           She was absolutely pathetic. That’s what Mother would say if she knew how Regina was spending her weeklong vacation and she probably would be right. But as much as she loved her friends, she was tired of being the fifth wheel between Mary Margaret and David as well as Emma and Killian. Mal had Lily, so she couldn’t come with her, and Regina had learned not to invite Cru on vacation ever. Not if she wanted to make it out with her liver intact.
           All of that meant that, yes, Regina was going on vacation alone. She was staying at a singles-only vacation resort, which was probably the only part her mother could possibly approve of since it meant that Regina would be surrounded by single men. Mother would hope that she would be able to bag one by the end of her vacation, Regina knew.
           Good thing she wasn’t planning on telling Mother about this. Ever.
           Regina checked in and was handed the key to her room. The clerk then smiled at her. “Would you like someone to help you with your bags?”
           “No,” Regina said. “I think I can handle it. Thank you.”
           She rolled her suitcase behind her as she approached the automatic doors. They slid open, letting her out of the air-conditioned main building and into the heat of the tropical sun. People in bathing suits milled around the patio. Some laid on lounge chairs, soaking up the sun, while others played volleyball together in the pool. Regina made note of the bar that one could swim right up to and order. Despite it being the morning, several people already had alcoholic drinks.
           Music blared through speakers tied to the palm trees around the pool deck and people danced. A large bulletin board listed several activities for the day and Regina knew she wasn’t going to be bored. She also noticed there were hammocks and other places where one could go to just have some quiet time to oneself. It seemed peaceful.
           By the time Regina got to her room, she believed she had made the right decision to come here on vacation—even if she was by herself. She stepped into her room, taking in the little kitchenette area—a refrigerator, a coffee maker and a microwave. It was nestled next to her sitting area, which included a couch, a coffee table and a desk. Moving further into the room, she came across her single queen-sized. The TV was mounted to the wall across from the bed, right over a set of drawers. A closet was between the nightstand, which held a clock radio and the phone, and the window. The last part of the room was the separate area with the mirror and a sink while a separate door led to the bathroom.
           The piece de resistance, though, was next to the set of drawers. It was the minibar—which was literally a bar. Regina ran her hand over the various nozzles, which had several types of draft beers and handcrafted liquors ready for her to use. The room price had been all inclusive, so she was free to drink however much she wanted. It had been one of the selling points for her to choose staying there. Regina Mills was no lush but she was definitely going to unwind and have fun this vacation.
           Unzipping her luggage, she retrieved her toiletry bag. She was going to shower and then change out of her traveling clothes into something appropriate for her tropical paradise. And then she was going to really start her vacation.
           Almost an hour after she had arrived, Regina was lounging by the pool. She had found an empty lounge chair and she set up camp, rubbing sunscreen on herself before letting the sun warm her skin. Her goal was to return home to Maine with a nice tan, something she wasn’t able to work on between her long hours at the law firm and the long winters, something she had escaped. She closed her eyes behind her sunglasses and let herself start to relax.
           Regina laid there soaking up the sun, trying not to drift off so she didn’t end up burnt on one side. She definitely wanted to tan evenly and knew she was going to have to flip soon. Then maybe she would take a dip in the pool, get a drink…
           A cold drop of water landed on her stomach and she let out a startled cry as she sat up. She felt a few more droplets douse her and she grew indignant as she lowered her sunglasses. The culprit appeared to be a man about her age with dark hair and a toned physique she may have admired if she wasn’t too busy wondering why he had decided to shake off the access water like a dog.
           “Excuse me,” she said curtly as he toweled himself off.
           He turned, revealing bright blue eyes. When he smiled, she couldn’t help but notice two dimples on either side of his face. “Is there a problem?”
           “Yes,” she replied. “You got me wet.”
           To his credit, he looked sheepish. “Apologies, milady. I guess I was wetter than I thought and didn’t realize I was dripping on you.”
           “Well…Be more careful next time,” she sniffed, laying back down. “And move. You’re blocking my sun.”
           His shadow didn’t move and she found herself scowling. When he spoke, she could hear the bemusement in his voice. “I’m sorry. Who died and made you queen of the pool deck?”
           “We had a vote while you were underwater.”
           She felt his shadow pull back and when she glanced over, she found he was sitting on his lounge chair. He bit his lip, his eyes raking over her body. Regina was impressed he didn’t hide his admiration of her and she felt proud he was looking. She worked hard to maintain her body (yet Mother still insisted she could do more), eating healthy (though still too much for Mother’s taste) and exercising several times a week (but not daily like Mother wanted). But Regina knew everything was toned—arms, abs, and legs—and all were shown off excellently by the white bikini she wore.
           “Like what you see?” she asked, teasingly.
           “I must say, I do,” he replied. This time, she noticed he had a British accent, which suddenly raised him up a bit in her mind. And she also now noticed how fit he was as well. His arms were muscled but not to excess and he had a nice six-pack. Definitely not too bad, even for someone who had disturbed her tanning session with his cold water.
           He smirked. “Like what you see?” he asked back.
           Busted, even with her sunglasses. Regina smirked as well. “Not bad.”
           He laughed, leaning back a bit. “You here alone?”
           “Isn’t that the point of singles’ vacation?” she asked.
           “Good point,” he conceded. “But I meant if you were traveling with friends.”
           Her stomach dropped and she swallowed as she debated if she was going to lie or not. She bristled a bit. “What’s it to you?”
           “I’m just trying to make small talk. And figure out if a girlfriend is going to come sweeping in to stonewall me on your behalf.”
           Regina smirked, able to imagine Mal doing just that. Probably with a few acidic barbs thrown in for good measure, no doubt having already measured him as unworthy of Regina’s attention. But she had to admit she was enjoying this back and forth with him, so she admitted: “No, nothing of the sort. I’m all alone.”
           “So am I,” he replied, biting his lip again. She noticed he did it as he grew excited about something and she had to admit, it was kind of sexy.
           He leaned closer to her. “Want to be my vacation buddy?”
           “We don’t even know each other’s names,” she replied, raising her eyebrows.
           “Fair point, but I’ve been here a day and have thoroughly enjoyed our brief conversation more than anything I had at the mixer last night,” he admitted. “Besides, isn’t the point of coming to one of these places to have fun.”
           He wiggled his eyebrows at that last word and Regina rolled her eyes thought she let out a soft chuckle. He continued: “No strings attached. We have fun together, whatever that ends up being, enjoy our vacation and then part ways.”
           Regina had to admit that was a very good offer. Even at the singles’ vacation, she wouldn’t be too self-conscious about being solo if she was with him. And she was having fun with him. Maybe they could even have the eyebrow wiggling version of fun he eluded to and then they could just say goodbye. No messy feelings.
           She sat up, turning to sit so she faced him. Holding out her hand, she said: “You have a deal.”
           “Great,” he said, shaking her hand. “I’m Robin.”
           “Regina,” she replied. “Nice to meet you.”
(There will be a part two, I promise. I just wanted to get something in for Day 4 before it was too late). 
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avintagekiss24 · 7 years
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Wild Thoughts
I think I’m in love with Rihanna. Seriously. She and her outfits in the Wild Thoughts video are the inspiration for this story. Well, her and Beyonce from the On The Run fake trailer. Hope you enjoy :)
The air is sticky this time of night in Havana, but no one seems to care. The bar is packed, the patio even denser with bodies. The music is loud, the drinks are cold, and the air smells of the finest cigars. The band is soaked in their own sweat but they're having too good a time to stop now. The trumpet players dance along with the percussion beat, clapping their hands in enthusiasm before returning the brass to their lips. Bodies sway to and fro as their hands and fingers reach toward the ceiling. Men slink their arms around the waists of their women, pulling them deeper into their body as they wiggle and writhe to the beat. 
 Rick downs his brown liquid in one gulp, before sliding the short glass away from him, prompting the young bartender to hit him with another. He sits alone at the bar, Daryl leaving him hours ago with his favorite girl, Marcela. They weren't supposed to be in Cuba this long, just a few days, but the food and drinks and women always prove to be too much for the duo. A few days turns into a few weeks, into a few months. Daryl lays his head with Marcela, while Rick lays with anyone that'll take him. His flings will last a few weeks, a month or two maybe, but they always fall in love and he always takes the cue. It's time to go once their eyes start sparkling for Rick Grimes.
 He slides his crystal blues across the dance floor, looking for her. Three nights he's watched her and her dark haired, fair skinned friend dance until they can't stand. They accept drinks from most of the men in the bar, they laugh loudly, they even partake in the cigars. Two carefree, beautiful girls. Just how Rick likes them. He's only managed to catch the green-eyed girls name, Maggie. But every time someone calls for the dark skinned, toned bodied friend, something manages to drown out her name. Rick reaches for his fresh glass of scotch and takes a sip, leaning against the bar with his elbow. A flash of peach catches his eye and he flicks his orbs toward the bright intrusion.
There she is. In all her god given beauty. She stalks the floor like a lioness, almost gliding across it with a certainty that is unparalleled in any other woman. Her locs are loose tonight, hanging down her exposed shoulders. The previous two nights, it's been tied up. Once in a bun, once in a ponytail. But tonight, tonight those majestic, tightly coiled locs swing free as she moves through the crowd. They fall over her chest, calling attention to her perky, bouncing, full breasts and the fact that her shirt is see through. She's a proud woman. Her dark areola and her tight, thick nipples peeping through her crop top.
 God damn.
 Rick moves his head with her as she moves through the dancing bodies. His blues slink down to her tight flowered pants and he audibly takes in a breath. He'd love to be those pants. Grasping her supple, firm hips and thighs and ass in his hands. Whew. He turns to face the bar once he realizes she's headed toward that general direction. A second or two ticks by and he feels her small hand on his shoulder slightly, "Excuse me." Her light, whispery voice floats toward him like a gentle breeze washing over him and sticking to his damp skin. He moves slightly, allowing her to squeeze in between him and an older Hispanic man. 
 He finishes off his drink and slides the glass back toward the bar tender, tapping the hard surface with his fingers to get another, "And for you, ma'am?" The bartender asks.
 "Scotch please." She answers, just as dreamily and airy as her excuse me.
 Rick raises his eyebrows, smirking slightly. Stiff drink for such a tiny thing. He's impressed, thoroughly. Two drinks, identical, are thrown their way and they move in a succinct rhythm. She picks up her glass, Rick picks up his. She takes a quick sip, so does he. They even set their glasses back down on the bar at the same time, causing Rick to chuckle to himself. 
 "What's funny, mister?" She cuts her dark eyes toward him, tilting her face toward his.
 Rick chuckles again, shrugging slightly, "You're copying me."
 She clicks her tongue but giggles and he feels like God himself has bestowed a blessing upon him. All because he made her laugh, "Me? Copying you?" 
 "Yeah." His southern drawl seeps through his every word. She likes that. Reminds her of home.
 "Where are you from?" She asks suddenly, turning her body fully toward him. 
 "Atlanta." He answers simply. 
 Her breath almost catches in her throat. Her lips part as her mouth drops open slightly, her eyes wide. Rick's eyes fall to her lips as they suddenly curl up a little. A wondrous, curious little open smile playing on her lips. Her own eyes drop along him, taking in his build and how he carries himself, before they reconnect with his ocean blues. She places the glass to her mouth, running it slowly along her bottom lip before she tilts her head back to swallow it all. She slams it on the bar and grabs his large hand, "I wanna dance." 
 Rick wants to oblige her. He lets her grab his hand and drag him out onto the floor just as a solo guitarist begins a sultry rhythm. She wastes no time in enveloping him into her, resting her elbows on his shoulders and cocooning his head with her arms and hands. She starts her hips slow, rolling them into his groin in rhythm with the Spanish guitar. Rick tucks his head into the crook of her neck, his head beginning to swim as he breathes in her sweet aroma. She bites her lip, biting back the smirk on her face as her dark eyes roam along the side of his face. She pulls away from him and extends his arm with her as she backs away, those hips still swaying as her head falls back on her shoulders.
 Rick spins her suddenly, drawing a giggle from the temptress before he pulls her back into his body. He crushes her back to his front and dips his head to her shoulder, running his nose softly along her smooth skin. She laughs again and leans her head back on his shoulder as she grinds her supple behind into his crotch. She bites that plump bottom lip again and cuts her eyes back toward him as his strong hands roam along her flat stomach and down her hips. Her body feels good; and she knows it. He gets the feeling that he isn’t the first stranger she’s seduced with just a dance, and he probably won’t be the last, but that doesn’t bother him much. He’s been doing it himself for years.
 Within minutes of their first dance, everyone around them has disappeared. It’s just him and her, the faint sound of the guitar in the background, and his thoughts. He spins her again but this time brings her back face to face with him. He keeps a hold of her with one hand on the small of her back and the other intertwined with hers. She wiggles her leg in between his as he dips her quickly, another bright smile spreading on her face as she flushes with heat. Rick isn’t big on eye contact. Prolonged, lingering eye contact with women is a no go, because they usually take it the wrong way. But here he is, staring at her like his life depends on it. He couldn’t look away if he wanted to. That mischievous glint in her eye keeps him transfixed and makes his mind wander to the worst of places.
 Her skin on his. Her lips and teeth on his earlobe, just how he likes it. Those perky, bouncy breasts in his face and hands as she straddles him. The heat of her sex around his as he pumps into her. Fuck. He’d make her dance for him. Late at night, in the dark, with just the lights from the neon sign of the liquor store across the street from his room peering in the windows, splashing against her. He’d make her move slow in nothing but her bra and panties, biting that bottom lip as she runs her hands over her hips as she dances. Her hair in her face, her eyes on him, her Louboutins clicking against the floor as he throws crisp hundreds in the air for her. Mm, mm, mmm, what a sight.
 He sees her in a short, lace, white dress on the back of Daryl’s old motorcycle, her arms around Ricks waist as they ride out of town, her four-karat ring glinting in the sunlight. Grimes tattooed on her hip. Them sitting together on a California king in a presidential suite, overlooking New York city. Her legs crossed over his as they face each other, her hair piled high on her head as they count stacks and stacks of money from their score. Her laughing wildly as she lays back on the bed with her hands above her head as he fills her belly button with diamonds and kisses his way down to her silky center, the Dallas skyline just out their window. Her favorite accessory will be two pearl handled, hand engraved .45’s that she keeps tucked in her waistband, pulling them out as the three of them burst into a crowded bank.
 Her hair whipping around her face as she fires at the police cars behind them, Rick keeping his eyes on the road before them as he weaves the motorcycle in and out of traffic. She straddles him, her chest against his, her heart beating against his body as she squeezes the trigger over and over and over again. She’ll lose a heel in the chase. She’ll watch it bounce against the pavement before it disappears underneath the old Chevy that Daryl occupies. She squeezes her body to his as they cut through the wind and the city, sirens blaring, loud pops in the air. She’s scared this time. They aren’t losing the cops as quickly as they usually do and the streets are packed with traffic. Maybe they won’t make it.
 “I love you.” She’ll whisper, “No matter what, I love you.”
 Daryl will split from them, screeching down an alley and taking a few of the cop cars with him. They’ll all eventually get away, Rick carrying his bride out of city and along a dark, deserted highway. He pulls her into an old motel a few hours later. He carries her shaking body up to the room, ignoring Daryl’s frantic calls as he sets her on her feet and closes the door behind them. He kisses her deep and slow, cupping her face into his hands as he reassures her that they’re okay. He makes love to her all night long, wiping away her tears with his fingers as the police blow by the old motel, their sirens fading into the night as they move right past the thieves.
 Rick blinks. The visions of their life of crime gone. The smell of her fading as the guitarist in the corner finishes his song. She pulls away from him, letting her fingers linger in his for just a few moments more before she fully disconnects. She smirks again, danger and lust bouncing around in her eyes as she backs away, “Thank you for the dance, Atlanta.”
 “Rick.” He states, “It’s Rick.” She just smiles again in return, still sauntering backwards, “Tell me your name.” He asks as panic rises in his throat. She’s leaving, she’s really leaving.
 She laughs, licking her lips, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
 He blinks again.
 She’s gone.
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busines303-blog · 5 years
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9 things that make 'Monster Hunter: World' the best in the franchise
New Post has been published on https://howtobuyfranchises.com/must-see/9-things-that-make-monster-hunter-world-the-best-in-the-franchise/
9 things that make 'Monster Hunter: World' the best in the franchise
Me diving back into the world of 'Monster Hunter'.
Image: capcom
WARNING: This article contains very minor spoilers for the beginning of Monster Hunter: World as well as intense video game nostalgia. Proceed at your own risk.
In real life I am a vegetarian with a tendency to get preachy about animal conservation. But in Monster Hunter, I am a bloodthirsty killer of exotic reptiles with a huge axe that converts into a paralysis-inducing sword. That’s the beauty of video games, you can be whoever you want to be.
SEE ALSO: ‘Dark Souls: Remastered’ and new ‘Mario Tennis’ coming to Nintendo Switch
I’ve been playing Monster Hunter since it was on the PS2 (way back in 2004). I got my second fix five years later with Monster Hunter Tri, which at the time seemed like the most intricate and beautiful incarnation of the game that could ever exist — but not being a fan of hand-held consoles, I missed out on much of the franchise’s development. 
As a result Monster Hunter was mostly resigned to my nostalgia banks. No more would I hack the tails off majestic dino-dragons in order to upgrade my equipment so as to hack the tails off even bigger dino-dragons (and so on and so forth).
Then the news came. Monster Hunter: World, a huge, immersive Monster Hunter game with more freeform options, was coming to consoles. 
Naturally I was excited, but a part of me was apprehensive. Could this new game possibly live up to my childhood memories of the franchise, after nine long years?
Image: capcom/mashable composite
Still, not buying was out of the question. Last Friday I booted up, my blood coursing at the thought of getting my hands back on a switch-axe, but slightly dreading a bitter anticlimax.
Reader, I was not disappointed.
Monster Hunter: World delivered gloriously, and here is how it did it.
1. Thank God for Scoutflies
Back in the good ol’ days, hunting monsters took place in much smaller locales made up of lots of different areas. Your quarry might be in any of these, so you had to scout through all of them, find the beast, and then nail it with a paintball. After that, the monster would appear on your mini-map and you could track it as it ran from area to area. You had to make sure you kept the paintballs coming, as the effects would periodically wear off. Pretty dull.
Monster Hunter: World binned this mechanic in favour of a much more elegant solution. Your character carries scoutflies, little firefly-like insects that lead you to the monster you seek. 
By gleaning the monster’s scent from traces it leaves behind (e.g. footprints, gashes in trees) the flies hone in on the monster, and once you find it they will lock on and show you the quickest route to it.
2. Smooth as hell exploration
As mentioned, a lot of the previous Monster Hunter games involved a lot of flitting between areas, which meant a lot of load screens. And I mean a lot.
Monster Hunter: World is a different story. Despite the areas you explore being massive and complex — each with their own ecosystems that interact — there are no loading screens when you’re out in the world. You can seamlessly run, slip, slide, climb, and swim through the environment.
Oh the places you’ll go…
Image: capcom
The lack of loading screens also means that pegging it to a different area will no longer guarantee your escape from a raging monster, which heightens the tension considerably.
3. A diverse grind
The feedback loop of Monster Hunter has always been its defining feature. Repeat-routing the same quest was the only way forwards. On the one hand it granted a sense of achievement, but for many it was just too laborious to be fun.
Monster Hunter: World side-steps this by making the grind a whole lot less linear. In the first few hours of gameplay you come up against a menagerie of low to mid-tier monsters, and there are multiple ways to pursue those crafting materials you crave so badly. You can go on optional quests, hand in bounties, or just go freeform on an expedition.
4. Absolutely gorgeous 3D area design
Monster Hunter: World boasts beautiful design and graphics, but more impressive than those are the design of the environment. Different areas are more connected than ever, with plenty of passages to crawl through and vines to clamber up. 
Needless to say, this design can work to your advantage. Jumping off a wall or a ledge can allow you to mount a monster for some serious damage output, or you can provoke it into charging a pile of vines or quicksand. 
Yeah, that’ll teach you to go near vines!
Image: capcom
You can even use the other ambient creatures to your advantage to lure your main monster to a specific location. 
5. You just need the one whetstone
This. Right. Here. 
There was nothing more infuriating in previous incarnations of Monster Hunter than realising that you’d not brought enough whetstones and having your weapon constantly glance harmlessly off the monster’s hide.
Oh that sweet, sweet, sideways eight.
Image: capcom/mashable composite
Thankfully Monster Hunter: World remedies this madness, as you only have the one whetstone with INFINITE USES. Rathalos be praised.
6. Single player is no hindrance 
A bit of a confession coming here, but I don’t play well with others. My online mode was always a little janky, plus I am all about that solo glory.
In previous games to take on the majority of big elder dragons with all the fun cannons and ballistas you had to go online and find a party to do it with. Boo socialising.
In Monster Hunter: World the choice is yours. Relatively early in the game you get to enjoy a big elder dragon set-piece all by yourself. 
7. Maintaining the scary/silly ratio
Creature design is of course at the heart of Monster Hunter’s aesthetic, and the joy of it has always been that the artists fill the game with a mixture of thoroughly terrifying and utterly ridiculous-looking beasties. 
The best example of this is Monster Hunter: World‘s unofficial flagship monster, the Paolumu.
Because what self-respecting hunter wouldn’t want to smack that thing right in its big, inflatable face? 
8. Palicos are 100% better than Cha-Cha
OK, this is more than a pet-peeve than a proper analysis and only applies to Monster Hunter Tri — but I hate Cha-Cha with a burning passion.
He has the stupidest name, he always bails just when you need him most, and I just wished he would leave me alone.
The Palicos are way better. They’re reliable in combat, and as they level up they respond better and better to commands. Plus you get to customise them right from the beginning.
For example: I designed my Palico to look as though he is constantly scheming to overthrow his human masters. I call him Blergins.
I probably shouldn’t have given him that gun…
Image: capcom
9. That opening sequence
A bit counter-intuitive to put this at the end but oh well. The opening sequence to Monster Hunter: World is balls-to-the wall dramatic. Your ship runs aground on a huge lava dragon, and to pique the drama the Palico you so lovingly created mere moments ago is cruelly snatched from you.
You manage to escape by running up the volcanic elder dragon and grappling onto a passing pterodactyl-like creature. This isn’t just dramatic by Monster Hunter standards, this is how I wish every game would begin.
I’ve been gushing a lot so far, and it’s not as if Monster: Hunter World is without flaws, it’s just that on the whole they’re pretty small. The compulsory cut-scenes are a bit of a drag, and even with all the streamlining some of the menus remain a little byzantine. 
This is the Monster Hunter game the child me would have wished for: huge and gorgeous and full of monsters fighting each other. 
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a big dodo-looking thing to bludgeon.
WATCH: Create your own retro gaming device—and learn to code while you’re at it
Read more: http://mashable.com/
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tonguetiedmag · 5 years
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concert: chase atlantic
Selling the show out weeks in advance, Australian rockers known as “Chase Atlantic” brought their headlining world tour to rock the downtown Denver, 350 cap Marquis Theater on Friday, November 16th. The Marquis theater will always take the cake for being one of my favorite venues-- with a special sense of intimacy, a stage that puts fans just below eye level of performers, and the cheap pizza available via the eatery connected to the venue, it carries a special charm. It’s the type of venue that you absolutely want to be at if a band you like is playing there, and having only previously seeing Chase Atlantic and rapper “Riley” at warped tour, I was excited to see how’d they play into the electricity that tends to be inevitable with small rooms like The Marquis.
First to take the stage would be rapper known as “Riley”. Frequently doubling as a tour manager for Chase Atlantic, the rapport between the two is endearing. The performer’s music is a perfect fit for the ears that Chase Atlantic draws in. Being an older artist and presenting an aesthetic and style that doesn’t necessarily fit current trends amongst young music fans was something that I particularly enjoyed-- without the added privilege of being the typical picture of what’s mainstreamed into the media for young music consumers, especially the predominantly female audience that Chase Atlantic draws in, it goes to show that the art he creates is all the more incredible and something to be noted. Riley held a charming stage presence and laid-back, enjoyable vibe musically that left me with a smile on my face. I’ve seen so many artists struggle when it’s only them on the stage by themselves, and Riley took that fact and used it to make the performance all the more intimate, bringing the lights down to near pitch-darkness to allow the audience, myself included, truly relish in the energy radiating throughout the room and from his music.
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After an anticipation-building stage setup with a glowing mic stand was complete, pop 3 piece “Cherry Pools” intrigued me with their surprising aesthetic versus sound contrast, and their unique ability to push the most obscure of boundaries and pull it off without missing a beat. Without any prior knowledge of the group, the bright hair colors, beautifully blended eyeshadow, fishnet attire, and chains all over the place had me expecting a punk-rock sound, but what came was a light-hearted dance-y pop. Cherry Pools presented a vibe that I could only describe as “Bubblegum edge”, and it was nearly impossible to tear my eyes or ears away for even a second of their set. I thoroughly enjoyed lead singer Martin Broda’s frequent interaction with the crowd, and the concentration-infused smiles on drummer Sean Medeiros and bassist Talyn Prior infectious. An instant playlist addition for myself.
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When Chase Atlantic took the stage, the beginning of their performance was drowned out by excited screams. Opening with fan favorite track “Swim”, right off the bat the tension and stress became visible as technical difficulties created obstacles. However, the boys of Chase Atlantic did what performers do best, and if it wasn’t for the frantic scurrying trying to figure out which chord was causing the problem, I would have been none the wiser that anything was wrong.
Chase Atlantic sets bring a full sensory experience--it’s more than just the music, but the lighting, the visuals, the mood that almost made me felt like I was in the middle of an action feature.
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The set had a wonderful balance of tracks new and old, with a theatrical-feeling and enjoyably intense intermission-- an element in live music I don’t see often, and something that fit the mood of Chase Atlantic’s set perfectly. Other than the special treat of an interlude, my favorite parts of the night also included watching guitarist Christian Anthony frequently interacting with and singing to fans, and seeing how excited they got-- it created nothing but good energy that only allowed the performance to get better. And of course, one of the most unique elements of Chase Atlantic shows is getting the pleasure of watching guitarist and saxophonist rip into his saxophone solos and never miss a beat, making every second golden. Ultimately, despite fighting sickness and technical difficulties, the band did nothing but deliver a solid performance without letting any stresses shine through. The strong energy between Chase Atlantic and their fans will forever be one that impresses me.
Check out Riley online:
https://twitter.com/rileym4a
https://open.spotify.com/artist/38SHprY6NUd8O9LyWJ4hg4?si=9bmKOVnQQiGsZhDaHatu3A
Check out Cherry Pools online: 
https://twitter.com/cherrypools
https://open.spotify.com/artist/0ZapotknXXYHIvTojpg9Im?si=cd_1iFgJR1aznjMtnYVSjA
Check out Chase Atlantic online:
https://twitter.com/ChaseAtlantic
https://open.spotify.com/artist/7cYEt1pqMgXJdq00hAwVpT?si=6YquZMCnQoyPxenFcWxCow
Photos and Review by: Liz Holland
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suetravelblog · 6 years
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Approaching Sainte Anne Island
The day trip to Sainte Anne Marine National Park is one of my favorite Seychelles experiences. People in the group were as interesting as the exotic, secluded islands we explored. I enjoyed conversations and shared a table with three fun couples:
Australian
British / South African
Seychellois
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I chatted with Krishna who was from Chennai but had lived in the Seychelles for over 20 years. He’s an accountant for a luxury resort and sadly, several years ago his family moved to the UK – his wife is a physician – while he remained behind. He was happy to be joining them later in December and relocating there himself.
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Beach Sainte Anne Marine Park
The Aussies – Margaret and Ray – were great company for a conversation-starved solo traveler. We enjoyed snorkeling, hiking, laughing, and sharing travel stories. The British South African couple – Jill and David – were unbelievably in their mid-80s and on a layover from a cruise.  David is a talented engineer. He met Jill, who’s from Cape Town, in London, and they married 5 weeks later.  They’ve lived all over the world – China, Africa, Australia, Canada, and more… Jill shared stories of her full, active life and many adventures.
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Moyenne Beach Sign
The Seychellois couple – Carinne and François – were shy and quiet at first, but warmed up. Carinne had a few lively conversations with Jill and me, about Seychelles and life in general. She talked briefly about the country’s political setup and dissatisfaction with corrupt government – not a new scenario in African countries. Some islands and resorts in the archipelago are owned by wealthy people from Asian and the Middle East.
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Moyenne Trail View
Catamaran Anahita and Semi-Submersible Boat
After several stormy days, the weather was remarkable and clear but extremely hot! Starting at Mahé marina, we cruised on catamaran, Anahita, for about an hour, stopping to feed colorful reef fish and revel in jaw-dropping sea and island vistas. Then, we boarded a semi-submersible boat with glass windows to view the coral reef below.
Catamaran Anahita
Our Seychellois guide provided commentary on the reef and its inhabitants. She described fringing and patch reefs, and explained how each creature living in the coral reef contributes to its survival. Some of the fish we saw included semicircle angelfish, steephead parrots fish, zebrafish, and oriental sweetlips.
Oriental Sweetlips
Steelhead Parrots Fish
Zebrafish
Semicircle Angelfish
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“Sainte Anne Marine Park provides a unique concentration of underwater ecosystems. It protects coral gardens and has one of the largest areas of seagrass meadows in the granitic bank of the Seychelles.”
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After viewing the reef, we jumped into the ocean to cool down and snorkel with the fish. The fish we saw were a bit disappointing, but everyone thoroughly enjoyed swimming in the warm Indian Ocean!
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Moyenne Trail View
Marine Protected Nature Reserve
“Sainte Anne Marine National Park is about 3 miles from Mahé. It was created in 1973 to protect a group of 6 islands and is the South Western Indian Ocean’s first marine protected area. Only accessible by sea, the Park has a unique concentration of underwater ecosystems. It protects coral gardens and has one of the largest areas of seagrass meadows in the granitic bank of the Seychelles.”
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Brown Noddy
Six Islands in Sainte Anne Marine Park
The Park’s nature reserve is about 6 square miles. Islands in the reserve include Moyenne, Cachée, St. Anne, Cerf, Longue, and Round. Each island has fascinating, history and folklore. The islands have thick, tropical vegetation and incredible white-sand beaches. Green sea turtles, hawksbill turtles, manta rays, bluespotted stingrays, and bottlenose dolphins are regular visitors. The water surrounding the islands is shallow. At low tide, it almost recedes completely. It’s possible to walk across the sand to other islands. Be prepared to get wet and carefully avoid shell and coral pieces.
Hawksbill Turtle
The largest island, St. Anne, was the site of the first French settlement in 1770 – a “courageous undertaking of an island surrounded by swamps teeming with crocodiles”.  During World War II, St. Anne was a base for the Royal Marines defending Victoria. In the early 19th century, the island was a whaling base. Today, St. Anne is an important nesting site for hawksbill turtles.
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From Moyenne Hiking Trail
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Visitors and locals share a fascination for legends of pirates and buried treasure on the islands. “Focus has been on Bel-Ombre, in the Northern part of Mahé, where it’s believed that Olivier Le Vasseur’s (a French pirate from Calais) hidden treasure worth £150 million lies.”
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Captain Morphey, a French/Irish explorer from Brittany, named the island after the Feast of Sainte Anne – celebrated upon his arrival in 1756.
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Mahé Harbor Windmills
Cerf Island, the second largest island, was named after Captain Morphey’s frigate Le Cerf. The island’s shallow water and reefs are popular for snorkeling, swimming, scuba diving, and kayaking.
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Secluded Beach from Moyenne Hiking Trail
Longue Island was “used by early French and Portuguese slavers as a quarantine station for slaves being transported from Africa”. Morphey named Longue for its long shape. Longue doesn’t have the extraordinary flora and fauna of the other islands.
Moyenne Island is “home to pirate graves, a chapel, the ruins of early settlers’ homes, and undiscovered buried treasure”.  Giant tortoises roam freely along a walking trail surrounding the island.
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Inside Semi-Submersible Boat
In 1962, an English newspaper editor, Brendon Grimshaw, bought Moyenne for £8,000. Over time, he transformed it into a giant tortoise nature preserve now worth about 34 million Euros. It’s the smallest national park in the world.
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Semi-Submersible Boat
Grimshaw died in 2012 and “left the island to the national park, along with strict instructions that it must remain a park and no hotels may be built on the island”. One of Grimshaw’s dogs still lives there and is an avid fisher – we saw him in action! Grimshaw’s parents also spent time living on the island, and his father’s grave is there.
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Anahita Deck
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“Brendon and his Seychellois friend, Rene Lafortune, gradually and painstakingly created a nature reserve out of what was formerly a hunk of waterless bush.”
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Mahé Harbor
Round is small, rocky island that can be walked in less than 30 minutes. It was once a leper colony and now has small luxury cabanas and a popular Creole Restaurant. Cachée is a 5-acre uninhabited islet and nature reserve for breeding noddies.
Moyenne Hike
After a Creole lunch aboard Anahita, we went ashore and hiked around Moyenne, enjoying sea views, palm trees, lush vegetation, and giant tortoises. The trail leads by coves, granite boulders, ruins, and a tiny chapel. There are a few side trips – Hanni’s Haunt and Treasure Peak – and many secluded beaches with sweeping views of the surrounding islands and turquoise sea.
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Aerial View Sainte Anne Marine Park
Brendon Grimshaw and his friend Rene Lafortune planted sixteen thousand trees on the island and built nature paths encircling it. The main path passes the remains of two old houses.  One formerly occupied by the earliest traceable owner, Melidor Louange, who lived there with her husband for 42 years. She sold the island to wealthy, eccentric Alfred d’Emmerez de Charmoy.
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Islands from Anahita Deck
Another ruin, known as the “House of Dogs” was built by an English woman, Emma Wardlow Best, who loved animals. She collected stray dogs from Mahé and gave them a home on the island.
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Moyenne Ruin
Brendon Grimshaw’s house and a two-room museum displaying seashells and explanations of the island’s flora and fauna are near the main beach, Jolly Roger. Grimshaw wrote about his life on the island in a book, A Grain of Sand.
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Moyenne Cove
It was a perfect day, but I didn’t take many photos. Even though I doused myself with SPF 50, I have a sunburned back from snorkeling – a small price to pay for an extraordinary memory. If my skin could tolerate the harsh equatorial sun, I would swim and snorkel every day.
Reef Safari Sainte Anne Marine Park The day trip to Sainte Anne Marine National Park is one of my favorite Seychelles experiences. People in the group were as interesting as the exotic, secluded islands we explored.
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emilyberceli · 7 years
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I can’t believe the date is June 29, 2017. It feels like the future and I have butterflies in my stomach. Are those butterflies or is it the strong coffee I’m drinking. I’ve been in New Hampshire now for two weeks and three days, reconnecting and spending time with my mom at her house in the hills. It is the middle of nowhere now matter how you see it, whether one has grown up here or not. The truth is I’ve never been happy in New England, it was the education system that kept me so entertained over the years, and the countless activities my mother enrolled my brothers in from a young age of three years old. The best sports teams and coaches, hebrew school, saxophone lessons, more music, art classes where I learned to draw and paint flowers when I was five years old at the Currier Museum of Art, skiing and snowboarding every winter, Destination Imagination, an infinite supply of inspiring teachers in public schools, a later realization that my high-school was semi-private, college course style education and campus larger than the university my brother and I both ended up attending, Advanced Oil Painting 3, junior year allowing access to a classroom full of the best art supplies one could imagine, at the time being allowed to take anything home out of the classroom, tubes of oil paints that are fifty dollars a piece I realized when I later tried to purchase them as an adult, a marketing program my mother got me in a year early which lasted three years and I wrote an actual 31 page business plan for E.B. Naturals my organic whole foods store that would be located near and compete with A. Market, Whole Foods, Trader-Joe’s, and now if I took the step, took the risk, Fresh Market, in Bedford New Hampshire. Deca, and FBLA affording travel. Trivarsity athletics keeping me busy as the stress of qualifying at the weekly track meet was difficult enough to have no times for wandering thoughts or the wandering mind I now let slide in directions out of my control. Track was the biggest part of my life because I was very talented at it. I ran the 800, 1600 and sometimes my less favorite the 400 meter race. Being a mid-distance runner we would train in the winters during indoor track season, in the usually less than thirty degree whether with gloves, Under-Armor, headbands to cover our ears, and the usual six miles around the town in the cold. All to train for a run that was at tops, only half of a mile. This run I would always do well in because running is absolutely, complete and pure strength of will. If you want to do well you simply decide to feel more pain and push harder, it was simple. It was excruciating because I always wanted to do well, and usually threw up at the end of each race, and fell to the ground, which was the greatest high I could ever imagine. The relief of it being over with, the pain you felt during the short two minutes made it impossible to look at it as just a two minute blip of time during your day, but instead something you stressed about from the time you knew the date, your race, and the concrete information that entailed you would be running. I can’t think of another thing in life where you can get such an accomplished high because nothing is as physically, mentally, soul-ley, truly trying. I hated it and ended up quitting my junior year, I ended my time as an indoor track, outdoor track, and field hockey player in high school and instead focused on my media communications teacher who introduced me to a new concept in life that was a actually a religion and like nothing I had ever learned before Catholicism, and challenged myself with an advanced, (the most advanced offered at Pinkerton Academy) oil painting course, having only taken a required introductory art course freshmen year, and those damn learn-how-to-draw-flower art classes my mom had me in at the Currier, before I was even of age to attend school. I spent all my free period, from half-studies, to full studies, to my lunch period, in either of these classrooms which were both located in the English building, which is what we called the building bigger than most high schools on my high school, Pinkerton Academy’s campus, that was for the English courses and the arts. I also clung on to my first serious read that was not required for school, Wayne Dyer’s, The Power of Intention and studied it more thoroughly and lovingly than I had given a single actual assignment for school in all of my schooling years. Except that poem I wrote. Remember that poem Junior year when you were too shy to read it to the class after almost everyone had read theirs, and there were about five people left on your side of the classroom. You just couldn't do it. So the teacher offered to read it for you, and as much as you loved working on the assignment you were completely and without any thought of why not, content in giving up all credit just to not have to share it. When he read the poem, he stuttered on a few lines as it was not his own, but couldn’t have messed it up because how perfect and cleverly written it was. Two pages and when he finished the whole class stood up and started violently applauding. I was shocked. It was a nice moment because I had isolated at the time and I promise you no-one in this class was my friend having been dropped down to a B level course after not trying on my junior essay and writing it in 20 minutes time in a half study period. I had received a B the previous year in my A level English class and apparently was policy you move down a level if you don’t maintain an A. No-one I grew up with or knew well in the class, but I did know mostly everyone and none of them liked me. I’m not just saying this, they actually didn't like me but I did a better job at staying under the radar, out of the way, out of trouble, and going a little less noticed back then. That’s why it was so amazing when they all stood up to clap for me, because I had no choice for a moment to feel content in maybe, just maybe the thought, that it could be true, that I could be talented.
I can’t figure out why but like most things I think I have nothing to do with it. Why the smoke tastes and feels different in New Hampshire. The first week here I enjoyed my American Spirits more than ever, and now here we are over two and a half weeks later, and I can’t smoke them. Yes, this should be a great thing, but I was never trying to quit. Everyone assumes I would want to but it’s too hard. That’s not the truth. I love my organic, non-additive, all natural tobacco, I love the calm it gives me and I adore the feeling of putting the end of tightly packed cigarette to the ember of the flame and breathing in in a concentrated motion. Deep breaths feel the best as I exhale through both my nose and mouth and feel peaceful like it’s an act that has been performed by humans through out the ages, but I mostly relate and think of the Indians and the people who lived a little closer to nature who enjoyed this specific little pleasure that is one of the many of life. I’m in love with the idea that smoking allows me and instant escape in any situation wherever I am, whoever I’m with, I get to escape, solo, to the trees, to the air, to the outdoors. That’s what I will miss when the universe decides to no longer allow me enjoyment out of smoking and I no longer smoke. It’s not called quitting, that simply is a false term. I have to write truth and I’m not going to quit smoking cigarettes, I’m going to stop enjoying them and therefore no longer smoke them. The verb quit requires action to consciously put an end to something. Personally, I assumed around a year ago when I was a new smoker that I would simply forget what day when my environment changed, my scenery, new place, but I think this might be a contributor but I don’t forget about the things I love. I don’t forget about the things I love to love, the things I enjoy. When you fall in love with something, someone, etc you don’t forget. Like most humans, I love, love. I fell in love for the first time again after having forgotten slightly what being in love feels like, with the Melissa and Jason Wu rain boots I have on right now. They are slightly less magical in New Hampshire because the little wedge makes me stand out a little more than I’d like to. Maybe the people are taller in Miami or maybe they’re more beautiful. Either way these boots fit like gloves for my feet like are perfectly meant for me and they work in my few year old now, new home, Florida. Speaking of not forgetting about the things we love as humans, I can’t seem to forget South Florida. My heart aches for places as it does people. My heart misses my love affair I had with Florida. The intimate one that everyone always wondered what I was up to socially, the one I was free in. It felt like it was between the two of us, me and South Florida and the third love in the affair was all the rest of people living in South Florida. It was a glorious threesome but we all know Florida and I were the closest. I know everyone loves the ocean and the sun and not everyone has these luxuries but I disagree that everyone loves it equally. I know for a fact that for two years of studying the way other people react to the ocean and the sun it is simply not the way I react. On my break every day I would drive the 10 minutes to the beach and either swim or run or read or eat and drink on the sand by myself. I hate sounding like a hippie, a gypsy or some kind of wandering child of love, but I also have to write truth and be true and the weird truth is I feel free in nature. I need nature. Anytime I’m nauseous, I rarely feel nauseous unless I am motion sickness these days, but just a couple years back I had a series of stomach ulcers, causing dangerously low blood levels and whenever I felt sick to my stomach would run outside and lie on the grass despite my boyfriend at the times severe worry thinking this was extremely not normal. But I felt better somehow, probably the obvious, the fresh air. Still, I believe most people prefer beds when they feel unwell, the comfort of their own sheets. I weirdly like the comfort of the dirt and the ground beneath me, covered in some kind of grass, surely leaves, weeds, clovers, ants, and small crawlers. More beautiful than the land is the oceans. If you’re not afraid to swim and realize as humans we can just float for hours without touching land or a shallow area you will turn in to a mermaid, I have. The only reason I have ever had to get out of the ocean was when the waves and current are stronger than I am going out to sea, and being petite, I actually become scared of something in the moment. I’m fearless and can’t think of things that scare me or have scared me in years. I think the only reason I felt fear in this moment one of the hundreds of time I swam in the ocean over the past couple years in Florida, was because i was enjoying so much. When you’re enjoying so much and then something threatens death that is when you fear death. I love the ocean so much that if something seems very dangerous maybe that’s why I was allowed the emotion of fear in this moment. There is nothing about a lake that will ever scare me. Yes I am an insanely fast and amazing jet ski driver but what is there to fear on a lake if you are the one driving and in complete control. What is it others are afraid of? Is it the speed? I love the speed. I’ll never forget my amazing drivers-ed teacher Mr. Benson who let us happily hit ninety on the highways without a second thought, or the Tesla and Maserati drives I favored, or how I chose to drive my Stratus on the major highway in South Florida, i95, in the surpass lane at 90 plus miles per hour because bodily recall or muscle memory thought I was still driving the ‘Rocketship’ (Tesla’s name) but mostly because people don’t know how capable cars are unless they take care of them themselves. Always buying in full used cars through out my life and not wanting to lose my freedom that is my vehicle has made me wanted to learn how to take good care of my cars and I realize what a Dodge Stratus can really do. This is boring for me but possibly interesting for the reader. I spent $1200 on a 2005 Dodge Stratus paid off in full and drove it 1500 miles down the east coast with all my belongings and a friend, stopping along the way, first in Venice, South Carolina, then Savannah Georgia, then forty-five minutes out the way to the Beach House, for an overnight stay in Hilton Head, then all the way to Hollywood, Florida. (South Florida, 20 minutes south of Fort Lauderdale and 20 minutes north of Miami.) Then I continued to drive this car twenty plus miles a day to work and every and anywhere else, (the beach more than anyone needs to know about) for two straight years, and yes, on the highway in the Sun-pass Lane, always at around ninety miles per hour finding myself struggling with remaining a slower pace. People have so many fears in life that they always fail to see what is really possible. Because there are so many suggestions about why it would not be ideal to drive your car this way, no-one ever gets anywhere or goes anywhere. I promise you from being a girl who gave up the Tesla and the moon-alien life that was the exuberant wealth of a magical mystery ride I went on with a man I dated for 5 months, not too long ago, in Miami, in a sort of-”You can’t buy my love” act for the greater good of humanity and women everywhere, to come back to the ground just to find out my shitty resources, such as a Dodge Stratus, aren't that shitty at all. I am exhausted and my back is killing, I hate these sleeping pills this crazy German doctor prescribed me but my health is important. I can’t take the constant doctors appointments and reliving of the 5 days I spent in the hospital on June 7th, that I thought was only one or maybe three days and I definitely can’t take remembering the parts no-one will ask me about, but creep up, and are coming back to me with all these forms and paperwork and the process that is being an advocate for your own health and being a single twenty-five year old woman there is no way to ever really know what happened in that ambulance because I was alone and I was unconscious and I did the right thing, and I always do the right thing, and that’s where it gets me. Alone in an ambulance while a team or people were frantically working together to save my life because my heart beat was stopping and the fight was ending. The next thing I remember I woke up in a stretcher with a black nurse staring at me from about 30 feet away and not a doctor or nurse to be found. The only thing I remember after that was the most gorgeous blond nurse I have ever seen, probably my age, but much more beautiful, sneaking me chocolate ice cream. Then I remember a beautiful kind, well-educated looking man closing the curtain around me in a hospital bed and taking off the sticky pieces that were all over my body in places I couldn’t even see, and he did it in a very sensual way that was not okay, and if I hadn’t been so weak i would have told him to take his beautiful hands off me, and to fuck off, as he offered me no help to tell me any information about anything and literally was just focused on taking things very very slowly off my body. Anyways this is about all I can remember and this was the beginning and quite possibly day 1, and I want to say the next doctor or nurse I saw told me this or looked like that, but I just can’t remember a thing, and I feel like maybe I could almost cry in this moment, but no. I can’t, I won’t, I’m not, I don’t, I should, but I’m not sure when I want to or if I ever want to again, and mostly, where my mind takes me instead is a lot smarter. This extremity of being an independent woman is the first scenario that has made me, just now actually, take a second glance on the decision I mad junior year in high-school when my two best friends went down the drugs and alcohol and fucking random men route and there was no more time I could spend on working on maintaining a friendship with them when they quite frankly weren’t trying anyways cause they were only loyal to one thing in life the thing of the party. My first serious boyfriend broke up with me and my sensitive little weak heart (not by choice but by nature) didn’t want anyone else because my love was loyal even if he wasn’t good looking, silly and social, and maybe a little talented at film, but not a catch, because I preferred a loyal love over trying to love a new and different creature. From then on I fell in love with the independent lifestyle, I could read whatever I wanted to read, listen to whatever music i wanted to listen to, I could swim when I wanted to swim, run when I wanted to run, eat where and what I wanted to eat, think and speak of what I wanted to speak about, this world was fantastically beautiful. Not a single opportunity missed I always loved where it took me. Occasionally I longed for a friend and work as hard as the next person trying to be kind to other people which is my way of making friends, and all the friends I have are simply because I am a FRIEND to them. Anyone who wants to be a friend to me, I will be a friend to. There are no ulterior motives there are no friends I keep around for some kind of status points and there are definitely no friends I bull shit with or speak things that are superficial and meaningless and not true words. I think after this experience I’m going to try to lay off the enjoying my “Collie-Man” lifestyle before the ones I love most grow old, like my parents. Besides I think it would be nice to be a friend to someone if they would let me and be there for them and help them in the small ways I can offer, which seem to not be enough which is why I don’t have close girlfriends. I get a long with men better but they pay a little too much attention to me when I’m around and if they get drunk and are under the age thirty I usually can’t forgive them if they do something stupid because they are a straight man. Can’t a straight man do stupid drunk things to other women and not the one who is supposed to be his friend? Maybe I’m a better drinker than every man I have ever been best friends with in my entire life. Ofir, Dillon, Glen, Pedro, they’ll all never talk to me again because quite frankly they are all immature fuck-bags who are possibly more correctly determined by 2017 millennial as fuck-boys and I will get a sex-change just so they can suck my dick. Just kidding, but everyone feels bad for my friends because I find out they have a crush on me and I’m not ready to reciprocate feelings so they disappear and they are the ones who everyone says aw and feels bad for? I know for a personal fact that it hurts more to lose a friend than to have your ego bruised because someone you are romantically interested in doesn't reciprocate the feelings. I know for a fact I am nothing overly enchanting and am not the one love of these guys lives that they have never felt such a strong love before, I mean come on. That’s bullshit. They were just random baby crushes and did our friendship mean nothing to them? Because our friendships each meant everything to me. As any friendship always does and will. Friendship is something to be treated with honor, grace, respect. Friendship is a beautiful thing and quite possibly the strongest love we are offered to experience as humans. As Plato said “Nothing but heaven itself is greater than a friend who is truly a friend.” I think that is the quote but I’m not pausing to google it or think too hard about this, when you write truth it’s all in your head and to be spilled out at a very high typing speed as a courtesy of Ms. Parsons, my sixth grade computer teacher who made us type with boxes over our hands who possibly might be the sole reason I become a transcriptionist if the current financial endeavor I am working on, does not come into fruition. Spilling these words out, not taking it easy on my brand new MacBook Air’s keyboard which I should type a little more gently on, because last time after a short year, the L key, was completely faded and I didn’t even notice until and Apple Genius Bar technician pointed it out. I wonder if I would realize if there were no letters on any of my keys. Maybe I have just been blessed or lucky or maybe it’s all my opinion, but I seem to have remembered the important quotes. Who can argue with Plato? I don’t think it is an opinion, I think someone that chooses to quote a shitty non-genius unaccomplished slack-bag of 2017 with no artistic talent but pure drugged out numbing life-styled lazy living instead, is an asshole to all of society and that art itself offs itself in this moment until it is brought back to life by one of the few who still juice it up with overly intense emotions and they EYE. Before I knew the quote by Plato, where he wrote and recorded that nothing better than heaven itself is better than a friend who is truly a friend, I had this idea in my head. Maybe it’s because my mom always said be nicer to your friends Emily. No this can’t be why, she just said that because whenever my closest pals and I at sports practice, or maybe Destination of Imagination, thinking of Lauren Saucier coming over when I was in second grade? My mom never once took my side, always the friends, and said be nicer to your friends Emily! This memory make me smile. Now I think back to grade six on the field hockey bench with Cam’s little sister, Alex. She was so quiet and sad and lonely and beautiful. And why I was the only one who took pleasure in slowing approaching sitting and talking to her, I don't know the answer to. Some and most things about ourselves in this life we do not choose and do not know why or how we just are the way we are. It’s not for me to know, I just get confused why other people don’t know about this way. I think I’m lucky this is where my brain goes, to reach out to other people’s emotions more than my own, for two reasons. The number one reason is because despite the lack of credit success and constant finishing last and false reputations or ideas of who I am and basically a lot of the time no-one having any clue really a damn thing about me and possibly just forming a picture with the two worse things I have ever done as I probably blurted them out in our first conversation as I always do in a sort of confession style, social suicide reputation ruining way, as I forget about these lame games and just think “human connection!” human connection! LOL, everyone has always done much worse if I get them to cough up something they are struggling with too, but whatever, the point is, despite literally always and willingly and wantonly finishing last, I feel lucky that my mind goes the way where I choose to care for other people’s state of beings over my own because if this weren’t the case I wouldn’t feel what it feels like when you get through to another person and an actual law of natures, matter changing occurrence happens and you know something is better for them because of something you did. There is no feeling on earth that compares to this, self-accomplishment can be pushed as far as a track meet where you will the most pain on your body you can handle by using your mind to think beautiful agonizing thoughts of life love and death to push harder, but non-self accomplishment is actually the perfect task for me because it is the actual comparison of something as hard as running and racing with your body is for humans. I thought I was out of difficult tasks but no, I actually did not. I knew I was out of difficult self rewarding tasks. The tasks that keep getting harder and are no longer as simple as saying hi to someone no-one paid attention to on the field-hockey, middle school bleachers, are the tasks of helping or connecting with people as adults. I don’t see to be as helpful as before and no-one seems to want my help which is literally murdering my insides deep down. I think I’ve lived for this my entire life and that’s why I’ve struggled socially in Florida, because mostly everyone I know there or got to know is so tough and strong they don’t want your help and don’t need it. I believe the beauty and child-like stupidly wild and blind love for life, belief in anything miraculous if it stems from this love, this heart of the unknown, blind optimism sometimes foolish but still radiating with love, non-clairvoyant realist apocalyptic warrior shit, style that is me, Emily Ruth Berceli, would definitely benefit any and everyone, but whatever my approach is often misunderstood and confusing and quite honestly and laughably, most people just think I’m drunk when I’m completely sober. Just like my music library’s have tested through the times of my life, the different people I’ve surrounded with myself always seemingly saying the same thing. “Are you in love or something?’ Your music is so obvious that you’re in love.” I’ve heard this from those brothers who were hairdressers in Queens on my Israel trip as well as my close friends who attend BU and Emerson on my Israel trip, as well as my brothers, my friends growing up in Derry, New Hampshire, my roommate Whitney from Vermont straight-up said my playlist on our college break on the way up to her parents house in Vermont was “commercial music” or movie soundtrack songs, but strictly from the scenes where they fall in love or a great example, from the film, 500 Days of Summer, when Summer and him finally have sex or make love or whatever the hell their sexual encounter was that got him dancing through the streets the next day to I believe a song by the Cure. Yes I’m in love everyone. And no I’m not drunk everyone. But this means something different to me than it does to most people. I’m in love with life which I prefer more than a single person. Don’t get me wrong falling in love with a beautiful sexy man is absolutely a gorgeous and fun thing that sometimes gets to happen but it’s just irrelevant from this conversation. I’m talking about the way you live your life the state of mind, the what makes up your disposition the what is you when you’re not thinking about love, career, friendships, financials, or the what is you when you’re thinking about all these things. I just wish everyone would know that I’m very serious about this one thing. Sometimes people ask me what I’m serious about when they see me pushing lines for justice with small jobs in the scheme of things. These jobs are very important and I appreciate them to every extent and realize how important they are and how lucky I am as a person to have one as some people are uneducated and or educated and either way without. There are tougher lives that I could ever imagine and know it is not like what Americans small idea of the world is like, but I still push the lines for justice. Justice is important to me but that is broad and not an answer. My answer to Hector from the Boatyard Restaurant in Fort Lauderdale who asked me why making one-thousand dollars a week at one of the nicest newest restaurants in Fort Lauderdale wasn’t important to me would be: (Well he did not phrase the question exactly like this because people are lazy but he pretty much just said what does matter to you emily, in a very, does anything matter to you emily sort of way, in one of my giving no fucks moments, that was actually a giving it to the man, justice seeking moment for all our coworkers, or just a giving a fuck about the one thing I am serious about that I’m about to provide as the answer to Hector’s question. I didn’t always realize concretely this was what I was serious about but have always felt it, and I’m not sure how it’s about to come out when I try to say it, write it, well, actually, type it, in words in the English language. The one thing I have remained steady on and am serious about is being in love with life. Despite my aunt while I was inFlorida thinking she was doing me a favor sitting me down asking me if I needed AA, when I hadn’t drank in months, not even a beer socially with friends because I’m so in love lately with how my body feels without and my brain especially and how all the water I’m drinking feels like I’m being reborn, replenished, rejuvenated, and redefined, every day since I started being the avid water drinker again, that before the move, I had been my entire life. I think I forgot about the 8 glasses a day concentrating, on living and working and affording rent as an independent woman in a new city. Th new home I had chosen. (smiles all around). I looked at my aunt and vigorously thanked her because I have few close people to me in my life and do you know how lucky you are people if you have a person who cares enough about you to ask you that question? I was so captivated by the thought that if I was an alcoholic she would have just saved my life out of love for me and kindness and it meant so much to me. But then I had to come back to earth a little, and at least manage a few words that expressed something different than extreme gratitude and some kind of culmination of English palabras, like “No, Aunt Ter, I don’t drink to get drunk, in fact I haven’t been drunk in years, just the occasional buzz, haven’t drank in months at this specific time you choose to ask this deep-routed loving question, and don’t do drugs either in case you think I’m drunk off some other drunk-ish behavior causing non natural inhabitant of the human body.” Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Emily, not even close to what you actually said! LAUGH MY ASS OFF. I just typed that in .25 seconds perhaps? That’s all it took yet let’s be fucking real for a second, are you kidding me? There is no way you would have been able to get all that, people stop listening after one word, you got to keep it short and simple and sweet for other people. Like I said, I started expressing gratitude because i was flattered by the thought that someone loves me that much to be concerned enough to ask me that question. Honestly, I guess most people would say this is normal and I was overly-flattered but as an independent solo soldier, collie man, lives her life all alone, because she loves it, kind of person. You’re not always offered such obvious love because most of the time you don’t need it or want it or because some of the time you don’t need it or want it. Either way when people love the distant lover who loves them so much, from my happy distance, about the waves, the grass, the wildflowers, it is a beautiful feeling. So what I really think I said after weirding out my aunt and accidentally diverting from serious issues people actually struggle with such as alcoholism, to pure love and beautiful life, I just hope I managed at least “No, I don’t need AA, I promise.” I’m pretty sure now looking back after certain events she thinks I was lying. But what people don’t know, and what I hate about myself is that I don’t lie. The problem is I am such an artistic emotional woman who I know feels things a little stronger a little more intensely and sorry-not-sorry ( seriously can’t apologize for this anymore) a little more admittedly beautifully than most people, my vivid descriptions and wide eyes and smile make simple people, left-brained for an archaic term that modern science can’t confirm and that modern society has not yet coined a better word for, left-brained dominant less hormonal, maybe even more-likely to be masculine in sex, people. The problem is, when you’re always focused on the beauty in things, when you still find yourself thinking about the miraculous baby bunny that hopped by you on your run yesterday, as much as you’re thinking your real life responsibilities and imagine in society you can sometimes let a false reputation of who you are formulate. I used to love, love love, literally get off on, like my favorite pleasure in life, to get away with something extremely kind towards other people or so many people something amazing I’ve done for the greater good that no-one knows was me. It’s such a devious little smile I wear and such a self-confidence builder to remain under the radar and unthanked and unnoticed and it’s not weary or shaky territory because if you’re truly doing a good thing, if it’s right enough, you will know it and won’t question it and the feeling you get, the fuller you, in side of you, the one there is nothing on paper and nothing in the world we live in that is the culmination’s of all the people mind’s in society. You get to hold on to this truth and use it to independently define your capabilities in independent moments of weakness where you need strength in the future. The ground did get a little shaky here for me for the first time in my life. Here’s where I went wrong and it’s very simple hind sight. You can’t forget about these moments by being too self-deprecating. If you do great things and no-one notices and you don’t remind yourself of them it’s just like the tale of the tree falling in the woods and if no-one is around to hear it fall does it still fall? Oh it still falls but is there a point?My near death experience says no, not good enough no point yet. But because surviving and the Book of Nora episode on the Leftovers proves life to be fucking long, and long and long and long with so many different mind frames that we basically live multiple lives for more than a lifetime time but not yet eternity. I feel that after I’ve spent more than a quarter of a century of years living, I may get closer to the point and possibly the complicated so far from simple truth that could be the divine, eternity, and G-d/holy spirit. All I know is that if I care about people so much, which I do, this needs to be separate from caring about their opinions about me. This is where I blurred the lines and the mistake was made. Having closer relationships in younger years, quite possibly, pre-frontal-lobe development, still child-like years, when someone brought up there opinion on a matter of me. (you know myself, emily) I would take it to heart because when people you love give you advice it is out of love. This is not right anymore. You should hear everything, you will hear everything, you’ve ignored anything, you’re not deaf. Never ignored someone who is speaking to you directly. But you can’t let it sink in. Everyone wants a part of you, and no-one understands your true independence. So you’re going to have to deal with these two cold hard truths that are the facts about your life and your happiness emily. You took the being tough on yourself to better yourself thing too far, and took the love and desire to take in what other people have to say too far as well. This doesn’t mean you know all and no-one has wise advice for you, it simply means at this stage in your life when you have done everything privately, covertly and exactly the right way you’ve wanted to, in finding your love for yourself again which will be your breathe alive and you you will be born again and accomplish whatever it is your meant to accomplish just like everyone else does when they are living. If you don't have self-love you're not living. If you don’t look in the mirror you're not living. You can’t serve from an empty vessel, said someone somewhere I recently posted in one quote entry on this same blog. This is my least favorite quote because it means I can’t give all of me to other people anymore. I think a good idea while living in the city or not the city(country=misery) is I will write down the beautiful things I do, the only things that have ever made me feel some kind of way. The only things that make me feel confident, the things no-one can know about, not just yet, in a Tzedakah sort of nature, the not-yet philanthropist and the hipster-hating yet sounding, philanthropist I actually am sort of nature. Also, maybe just maybe I should stop ignoring compliments? When everything is amazing and the love I desire is there, I know life is hard and the moment will pass like all moments as humans we have many moments minutes in a day and they are sometimes millions of minutes away from the moment you were surrounded by the in-love drunk feeling you feel all day over the little things anyway moment where one of the little things was sending it back at you. I find myself working so FUCKING HARD that all I feel is stress to do more, do better, be a better person, there’s always something more you can do . We all know this. Penny Berceli always quoted what my grandmother whom I never got to meet quoted to her, “If there is a will there is a way.” Well that’s not overwhelming at all. That basically means it’s all up to me and should fully be denying the realistic grumpy smile refusing dream shattering assholes who keep telling me life is not easy and realistic scenarios to watch out for, that are absolutely ruining my life because the craziest truth of all is that whether or not they are true for entire population of the United States or human beings in general doesn’t make them true for me. We are all snowflakes in the fucking craziest most beautiful truest sense. We are all such intricately unique creatures but it becomes forgotten or harder to see this because in society we must act a certain way. And because working to live takes up most most of our time and our devotion to the arts over economics is far and few between ESPECIALLY, in the date that causes butterflies in my stomach, today, the future, June 29,2017. The fact remains we are all unique as human beings and no-one will ever know another person as well as they know oneself. I’ve spent years in school and only education-school like activities, about twenty to be precise, sheltered in the middle of nowhere that is the New Hampshire area, Derry to be precise of the bed I kept going back to’s location at my family home, New England in general, Vermont, Maine, Massachusetts, only New Englanders seem to grasp this most simple of concepts that all these states are right down the street, thirty minutes away to the beach in Maine, an hour to the ski resort in Vermont, and hour into the whitest city on Earth, that is also the tiniest most irrelevant hipster population pre-Boston Marathon bombings, had the least attention of any city broadcasted in the media in the States, getting to know myself. I have discovered that I am unique as fuck and it absolutely makes people hate me because it’s confusing and it absolutely makes me hate me because I can’t find the words, the faster I type or the more legitimate and perfected the explanation, the less understood even, but it’s also so beautiful. So once I allow myself to take in my physical appearance one I have chosen to not pay attention to for some greater good man chauvinistic declaration of superficial things not being important. Something about the compliment Carrie Kolbeck paid me just two days ago where she said I haven’t changed at all and am still the golden heart shining light beautiful girl I’ve always been. Or what my MaraLargo Trump protest purposed pal, Pedro LaCruz said upon first day spent with him, really the only day, the only protest buddy we could find in the Miami, South Florida area willing to drive the short 35 minute (New Englander’s chuckle, drive to Whole Foods from my house) (Floridian’s lengthy road trip miles away) to Palm Beach,just a little west and a little more north, to stand up for people who’s voices need to truly be heard. Well that’s why I was there anyways having no materialized problems yet from Trump’s inauguration in comparison to the surplus of issues already arrived in fellow American citizens lives listed on the few posters showing up to the protest. A few hundred wonderful people showed. Some wonderful people did not show but honked in support. Some hundred people were there. The protest, 250,000 people showed. I’m getting off topic. Oh hey, I accidentally listed one of the things I did for other people no-one knows about. I lost my voice and my feet bled and I ignored the hurtful slurs thrown at the scared marchers when they attempted to cross the bridge and showed them that if I could do it, fearless nice looking small girl, the one with the high-pitched voice(fucking hate it but when u have to be heard for a long period of time u just gotta let it be) could cross the bridge and not be scared of these poor hill-billy uneducated Trump lovers living in their trailer on the same technical island as the one percent of pure selfish filth and loss of love or reason to live that is the 1percent in the united states of america’s president Donald Trump’s estate and villa for celebrity or the wealthiest (wow so wonderful, so glamorous, so glorious, so enticing) ((SO FUCKING SARCASTIC)) vacationers destination. I was on the news but I’m way too annoyingly smart and aware of what I can’t even see sometimes that I put my sign over my face when I saw a camera as I was walking after staying away from that kind of thing. It’s silly the well-known names in society need to be the ones speaking and people who are not well known should not be interested in being scene because you are taking away from and doing the actual opposite of what you showed up to do, why you're there whats really important, get the message out, come together with the other humans in the country, be beautiful in numbers. Protest, poster making partner was obsessed with being in front of the camera. Okay, maybe not obsessed but interested and it was retarded and really fucking irked me. He said me a video clip of us on the news and I was so proud of myself to see you could not see my face but just my perfect sign I made with one poster board and one bottle of spray paint, having learned to make ‘VOTE FOR ME EMILY B’ posters to run for vice-president of student council 6th,7th, and 8th grade, and again freshmen, sophomore, junior, and senior year in high school for a non-specific place on the Student Council. My dad helped me with, simple message in bold letters and economical because we weren’t going to be the stupid family whom’s parents spend a ton of me to make retiredly cooler than A&F(undeniably coolest brand for younglings in schools across the country and other countries as well) looking t-shirts or lollypops with my face on them. I got elected every year. (smiles) Oh wow, another undocumented above when I previously listed the fucking insane amount of educational or sport related arts whatever activities that kept me alive and distracted from how much I hate the state of New Hampshire for living, growing up. Anyways this guy fucking Pedro couldn’t even take my advice on how to do the posters so instead of just letting him fuck up his and doing my own, I tried to work together with an ego obsessed plebeian that are the entire population of young males 27 and younger that live in Florida. One of those mistakes again where I blurred the lines because doing the right thing is acted out, but it is so nearly impossibly crafted that more good would come out of the situation for everyone involved if you did not try to work together and did a less admirable of a character route instead, and just let him fuck it up and do mine perfectly and beautifully. Just kind of wondering when doing things perfectly and beautiful got old for me and when I started to insist and insatiably desire that everyone else experience it with me and not just observer me most nauseatingly from a far, or secretly loath from a less than realistic idea of what jealously should feel like, lol ( as if jealousy could be done a right way) I’ve been trying to live this way for a while and it’s nice the few people I have helped experience some true art beauty and joy that is what the arts to me are. SIMPLICITY. PURITY is a better word because lazy empty minded people love the layman’s definition of simple, which is more like the urban dictionary version and and a little incorrect but pure works to describe something that is simple but also clean and beautiful. It’s just raw white silk. These moments are few and although they are a success in achieving my point of sharing the love and beauty it doesn’t make me feel the love or beauty any stronger it just makes me a little more peaceful knowing that the beauty is stronger since said person I am sharing with can see it, or more accurately, feel it, or even more accurately, submerge themselves in, the love. All I know is if I want a chance at accomplishing any of my mini desires in life. Adding beauty to the world that I created even if it’s the tiniest glimmer of live, or the pure beautiful smile of a simple lover whenever you see the dimples and almost blush or looking down on their face, the same flushed feeling a little stronger on your own face, smile a little more childlike an un adult like defined, a little too pure if you ask me on your own face. The comfort of affording food and a home in an area that is not too cold on my always cold, hypothermia lips turning blue on normal family vacations with friends growing up and the only one hospitalized from the late night swim at Camp Hadar because of your inability to not freeze over in low temperatures, area. Maybe some soft clothing, my love can have an animal as I had that love for 23 years and have been too blessed to desire again as a future goal. Running water I can call a rain shower if there is 99 cent suave rain shampoo on the shelf whether it is an actual rain shower or not. But preferably publishing a novel that brings more love into the readers life for the time it is held in their hands, or heard over their car speakers, or quoted by a friend, or the words of which are read on a Kindle or Nook, or iPad (can you download books yet on an iPod Steve Jobs?) ((sorry had access to the most beautiful library in the country at Nova Southeastern University for a placid year, and had no need to figure this out. Look at that, a millennial thing I don’t know about. I am obsessed with tech if that’s not obvious yet. Obviously to whom Emily? Obvious to you or obvious to the reader? Because it’s just starting to be undeniably obvious to you but since you never own your shit and love yourself and just for a moment accept the hatred, lack of understanding, and opposite affect than that of human love it will bring upon, you really don't know do you. Anyways the last goal the mini little life desire I was about to list was that if I shall be lucky enough for my hard work to pay off and bring actual positivity love knowledge or new ways of thinking, exploration of new worlds into people’s lives with my words being published in a novel form, I think I, in like I said un pocket, miniature way, desire more water to be near by than the running shower water, I’d be okay with ocean being near by as it’s peaceful most bluest of beauty brings me more feelings in the category of the mysterious beauty the heart of desire and whatever help the world love means, because since I know I love it so much I know I wouldn't be able to take it for granted and such a constant love can only, has only, will only, and could if I will and fill my own little mini desires that are the little wants I have for myself if I’m going to be a part of this world, you know life, that I wouldn’t go as far to call life goals, because that’s way to self-seeking and right now I’m still working on finding a little love of self first step. Alright that’s enough or this and have the task of putting this into paragraphs at a later hour because who the hell knows what I was thinking pre-coffee and the easy return button tap have been much easier than skipping that one finger motion to go back through and re-read this. My own thoughts are frightening. There’s another fear for the fearless girl. It’s just shitty and a mind fear not a cool real fear. Anyways I brought up up Pedro not because I have any positive thoughts about this superficial born and raised south-floridan who literally refused to admit I taught him any anything or enriched his life in anyway by attending the protest with his four years younger than me ass all to finally read a stupid article he sent me on SnapChat and to respond with proud of you after obviously not listening to his undefined and also ugly and shitty taste of music song selections he would send to me that yes i’ve heard, and yes suck, are are not obscure they are not on the radio nor any cool places where music exists because they had their hour a year ago before any of the greatest needed an ear bath and the people then followed. Shutting it the fuck off. He responded I sent it to you Emily, so you could learn from it, okay thanks fucker your barely able to drink and clearly dumb as fuck and only at the protest because you've got your personal familial issue to deal with selfish dumb and for the fact it scores you fake wanna-be hipster points as all the nerds in Miami are obviously dying for the look of Hipster because how else could nerd be admirable socially by any humans on earth or in our modern day society then to try and be what Boston/New Hampshire people were actually doing and not faking ten years ago cause we are real and are not the physical forms of your superficial egotistical societal games but enjoy the greater things in life. If your a hipster and you’re read reading this but mostly to poor Pedro for having life so disturbingly wrong that he's also thoroughly offending and spreading it on to other people as well, a BIG GIANT, fuck you. You all ruined yoga and american spirits for me and now I can’t even use the only skill I have, teaching yoga, as an acceptable skill in society without sounding like a new-age full of shitter. (smiles) Pedro told me I was beautiful o the inside and outside only because it’s what I believe he knew I wanted to hear. I’ve heard this compliment before if only I could take the time to enjoy a compliment and appreciate that whom is me I would remember the good ones who’ve paid me this compliment other than my love of an old friend Carrie Kolbeck and Pedro, and it could of saved me all the time I spent explaining all that is truly wrong offensive and disturbing to all of humanity that is one day around this person’s deeper ideals and intimate desires made up in their soul about life. Who wants to be beautiful anymore anyways? Maybe it’s just me since I need to run (stress-reliever like sex or like my therapist has pointed out and family members or roommates have joked about that “I’m running away” that keeps me in good enough shape to not have to do more than the natural look to not care about my appearance and maybe I’m wrong for not appreciating my beauty taking better care of my physical appearance or finding love in my heart intimate self love for what I look like on the outside, and maybe I’m just putting it in a way that makes it sound right and really maybe for a thousand reasons I’m wrong but I can’t get over the lack of life and can really get down with and off on when people tell me I’m beautiful inside and out and this is not because the outside part it’s because they have to mention both so it is clearly defined that they mean beautiful on the inside. Whatever when people tell me I’m beautiful if there is any reason to believe it could be for something I did or said not some way I looked I don’t question it and optimistically, again blind fool, and quite possible with un-selfawareness, choose to assume they don’t mean externally. 
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