#You drank plenty of water throughout the day

[saltofmercury]

hi i love ur writing sm and i hope you dont mind my request! can you do one where könig has a s/o that's prone to fainting and he's the one who catches them and just wait until they wake up like it's a normal occurrence now? IM NOT SURE HOW TO EXPLAIN but im prone to fainting and just hope for a könig in my life

hi hi! omg are you my twin? I used to pass out ALL THE TIME. Especially from period pain.

Pairing: König x f!reader

Summary: König helps you when you pass out.

a/n: This was so fun to write because I have passed out multiple times because of period pain, not being hydrated, and even one time because I got my ears pierced and the pain was too much. LOL enjoy!

"Collapse"

You remember the first time it happened.

You had a weird pain throbbing against your stomach, that wouldn’t go away for some reason. You were shopping in the store with your mom. You figured it was nothing, but then you felt hot, how hot your body felt, you kept going throughout the store, when suddenly, the room started to get dark, small bubbles of black and white appeared in your eyesight, your legs felt like jello, and sure enough you woke up breathing heavy, covered in sweat, with over 5 people crowding around you. Your mom had wondered where you wandered off to, but she did not expect this.

The second time it happened it was because of not eating. You were outside in the hot heat. You were a camp counselor rushing to your next activity planned for the day. You forgot to eat something and ran over to the next group. As you started talking, you felt fuzzy. The heat pounding on your head, you started to feel hot again. Why didn't you pick a swimming activity like the rest of the counselors? You moved up the hill with your troop, drinking water excessively, when the dots appeared again. You settle yourself on the floor and let the other adult take the activity. Not this again.

Again, you woke up with the kids and adults surrounding you, covered in sweat, breathing heavily. 

Several trips to the hospital, multiple scans, and even an EKG but nothing abnormal was detected. You just passed out.

The doctor had ruled out multiple theories, just told you to keep hydrated, eat something beforehand, to keep something with you in case your blood sugar went down. There was nothing wrong with you.

Several more instances played out throughout your life, and you knew to carry snacks with you at all times, not stay out in the sun too long, if you were in pain, to reach out to someone or lay in your car until it fades away. It became regular, there was nothing to really do.

It became less scary, and just something you knew how to deal with. 

*

It was one of the first things you told König on your dates. When you told König about it, he looked at you skeptically. 

“Are you sure, schatz?” he took a sip from his coffee in front of him, “There HAS to be more tests done.”

“Nope,” you said, secure of your doctors and self. “It just happens, there's no clear diagnosis.”

“Could be because of pain, low blood sugar, heat, anything really.”

And you hadn't had a fainting episode as of lately, your blood sugar didn’t run low, you weren’t in any pain, and you drank plenty of water. It seemed fine.

“I’ll let you know if it ever happens.” you said confidently. “I can tell usually when it's going to happen.”

König looked at you like you were crazy. 

“You can tell?” he stared at you, one eyebrow raised, and his hand toying with the cup in front of him.

“I'll explain it to you, usually I get really hot when it happens.” you paused looking at him. He looked like he was mentally taking notes.

“For some reason, I get clammy, hot, and I can tell I feel a little weak.”

He nodded, telling you to continue.

“Then when I can feel that happening, I see black and white dots taking over my vision, sort of like a dark aura coming into play.”

He looked at you like you were making it up. How were you not scared?

You smiled back. “It’s not as scary as it seems, it just happens.” you shrugged.

*

The first time it happened with König he was thankful that you were so calm. You guys had been wandering around an IKEA store finding a bookshelf for your books, and a new coffee table to put inside the entrance of his house.

You hated IKEA. The place was designed as a never ending escape room, on a constant loop. You were bumping into things constantly, and lost. König felt out of place here. He was like a giant placed inside a doll house.

“Everything here is so small, are you joking?” He looked at the table for six people. He looked like he could take up half of the table.

You were leading the way hoping and praying you would find the bookshelf section when all of a sudden you bumped your hip into some weird corner of a dresser.

“Oh… OW”

You rubbed the spot furiously.

“Are you alright?” König asked. “I saw you from the table section running straight into that.”

“Yeah I'm fine. It really hurt though.” The pain for some reason did not go away, and you started seeing the black dots come into vision.

“König…” you said gently, now the spot had been throbbing. “Don’t freak out, but I think I'm going to pass out.”

He looked at you. You had suddenly become pale, your face drained from blood, and you were sweaty all over. “Schatz… you don’t look well.”

“OW ow ow, yeah just, stay calm i’ll come back to-”

You closed your eyes and tumbled back.

König could only describe it as a limp doll falling backward. He immediately took two steps to catch you, and had held you, positioning your legs up against the dresser that caused this.

He remembered Horangi telling him about fainting and helping his other teammate when they passed out from a wound. 

He was starting to freak out. Luckily there weren't too many people around, and your breathing went from shallow fast inhales, to normal, regular inhales.

You gained consciousness again, hearing König mumble in German. Your eyesight wasn’t back completely, but you could hear, and once you focused your vision it was back.

König had held your head on his lap, was fanning you with some throw pillow, your legs propped up against a dresser.

“Hi” you said weakly.

“Jesus schatz, you scared me! How are you feeling?

You smiled weakly and answered “I’m ok just sweaty is all.” You picked yourself up, König behind you insisting you sit down a bit.

The car ride home he kept pestering you,

“BUT HOW did you know it was going to happen?” He kept questioning you as if he couldn’t believe it really happened.

“I just know” you said calmly

“We don’t have to call 911, or get you to the hospital?” He questioned you endlessly.

“No, just I'll be ok.” you grabbed a small candy bag from your backpack. “It was just pain, guess my body couldn’t take it.” you laughed and popped a candy gummy fish.

*

The longer you two dated, the more König started taking things seriously and even had started packing things for you. A small bag of candy in case you needed sugar, a hydration packet, an ice pack, and sugar gum. Small things like this just to prevent what happened at IKEA.

You guys were heading out to some event in a small town, you insisted that the whole place was going to be fun.

The place was crowded, filled with food vendors, different vendors selling their items, children running around, families having picnics outside, and many other small events crowding the area.

You held König’s hand as you guys walked through the crowd, worried that it could be too much for him. He was holding your hand because it was hot out today, and you didn’t have enough water.

You had found a spot to buy food from, while he found a small spot under a tree, placing your blanket down.

The heat was awful, standing in the line, you felt the heat beat down your hair and sweat dripping down your neck. There were 2 more people in front of you, a mom making changes to her order constantly. Your stomach grumbled and you felt your mouth dry up.

Fuck not again. You could see it happening, you tried not to psych yourself out because if you did it would happen. You tried to find König, he was only a couple feet away, but you could see he sensed it. He made eye contact with you, and ran over to you.

Cold water bottle in hand, he jogged a couple feet, you barely reached out to him, before your vision tunneled. This time it wasn’t so bad, you could feel him catch you before mumbling,

“I got you, you’re okay.” He said softly, dumped some cold water on your head, picked you up, wrapping your legs on top of his arms.

Your vision, still blurry and pitch black, you could feel the wind on your face, the sun’s rays on your eyelids trying to keep you down.

A few small cries of “Is she okay?” “That was such a good catch! “Do you need anything?”

König talking back to the people “She’s alright happens more often than you think.” Walking around with you.

You regained consciousness again, your head on König’s lap, he had a cold compress on your forehead, playing with your hair, fanning your face.

“Sorry..” you mumbled. Trying to face him.

He hushed you, “It’s alright babe, I kind of saw it happening.”

You blushed, looking away from him.

He put the fan down and grabbed the candy bag out of the backpack.

“Let’s get you hydrated and some sugar back in you, yeah?

[straykids-97]

The Summoning

Before I preface this. I know my poll hasn't ended but, I want to get this out bc... you all deserve this heh. Anyway, my polls will be themed by Sleep Token songs. Feel free to listen to them as you read the fic <3

Synopsis: Sometimes the best sins are committed by those who’d you least expect… 

Warnings: water play, tub sex, pet names (doll, angel, princess, etc.) slight choking, unprotected sex, teasing, fluff, playful!Minho, soft!dom Minho, sub!reader. (lmk if I forgot something :)

Word Count: 1.3k

I don't feel like I should have to say this, but reader's discretion is advised. But, you do you boo. You've been warned.

‘Did I mistake you for a sign from God?’

These days, spending time with Minho was as easy as breathing. Sure, he gave you a hard time, a lot of the time. But, it was all good fun. He was always sweet, ensuring you had eaten, drank plenty of water throughout the day, etc. If not, the first order of business would be a meal and a big glass of water before the delicious food. 

Much like today; work had gotten the best of you and you didn’t drink the water you should have. Your chapped lips were evidence of that. Of course, Minho had noticed this. 

“Forget water, again today, Doll?” He tsked, padding to his kitchen as you shrugged out of your coat. “Yes. It got so busy at work that I misplaced my water so much.” you groan. Your aching muscles were pleading for a warm bath or even a massage from your lover. But, judging by his tone, you didn’t expect the latter. You kick your shoes off and go to the bathroom, preparing to wash up before he insisted on cooking dinner as usual. As you turn on the water for your bath, you hear a little tapping noise, causing you to turn and see Minho a few feet away. 

He was holding a clear glass of water, “Drink.” He instructed, handing it over to you. “You need to be drinking water, especially at work.” He chastised, kissing you on your forehead. You simply nod and take a sip before sitting down on the vanity to undress. Minho had seen your body hundreds upon hundreds of times, so watching you strip out of your clothes shouldn’t make him bothered in the slightest. Hell, he’d seen your naked body so much that it was something normal to him. He almost preferred if you didn’t wear clothes around him, but, his frequent surprise visits by his friends prevented that. 

But there he was, watching you with a heated gaze as you slipped into the warm water of your bath. He cleared his throat, “Are you hungry?” he asked, trying to think of something other than your naked body. “A little bit. I had a small lunch so I’m sure after I’m done I’ll be plenty hungry.” You admit with a shrug, looking up at him as he shifted in the doorway. “Does anything in particular tickle your fancy?” He smiled, looking down at his feet. You could have sworn his face was blushed. You smile to yourself, “Lee Minho,” You lean forward, narrowing your eyes playfully at him, “are you blushing?” 

“I am not.” He defended sternly, glaring at you. You could see a hint of pink under his pale features. “If you aren’t, then let me see your ears.” You waggled your finger at him. He tried to hide his smile as he pulled his hair over his ears, revealing that they were deep crimson. You laugh, “What’s wrong with you?” You splashed water on him. “I don’t know! It’s just- you… you’re naked.” He shrugged. “Yeah, so? You’ve seen me naked a dozen times?” You lean back into the water. “I know. I just don’t know why I’m so… Flustered.” He waved his hand at you, “Gosh, I’m leaving.” He hurried away, standing in the hallway for a moment, catching his breath. What was wrong with him? Why was he running away? Normally, he’d be making you blush, but not the other way around. Maybe it was that you had called him out for blushing? He wasn’t sure what it was. 

He takes a deep breath and steps back into the bathroom, “Back so soon?” You teased. “You forgot to drink your water.” He replied, pulling his shirt over his head. Two can play this game. He thought, tossing his loose-fitting shirt onto your business clothes. You couldn’t help but ogle at his toned figure as he stripped completely naked. You feel your skin flushing, and you clear your throat, “What are you doing?” You ask as he stepped toward the bathtub. “Making sure you get enough to drink. I’m a concerned citizen.” He held his hand up innocently. You narrow your eyes and scoot forward. You weren’t sure what he was planning, but whatever it was, he had dirty intentions you were sure of it. “Face me.” He ordered, placing the cool water beside him as he settled in his tub. You kneel on your knees between his legs, the water sloshing slightly as you finally become situated. “Open your mouth.” He demanded, and you obeyed without question. Minho smirked as he poured water into his own mouth, before placing the cup back down and gripping your chin roughly. You gasp, mouth opening wider as he trickled water into your awaiting mouth. 

You blink at him dumbly, unsure of how to feel about what was happening. You were certain of one thing though. The way his lips felt on yours made heat pool between your thighs. “Minho-” You begin to protest but he ignores you, taking another gulp of water before gripping you behind your neck. You whimper, mouth falling open as he allows that water to slide out of his mouth into yours, lips leaving an open-mouthed kiss on yours. You hold in your moan as he repeats the motion again, his eyes never leaving yours. The room had indeed begun to heat up, the space between you two seemed to be too far. 

“Minho.” you whimpered, as he placed the now empty cup on the ground beside him. “Was that so hard, Princess?” he purred, thumb running along your bottom lip. “Minho.” you try again, trying desperately not to sound well… Desperate. But, you needed him. To make matters worse, he knew it. “Yes?” he said sweetly. You groan, squeezing your thighs together as his fingertips ghosted down your side to your hips. “Please.” You whine. He freezes, actions ceasing instantly. “Minho, please don’t make me beg. Please.” You plead, scooting closer to him. “Please, what, princess? I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” He says innocently. You groan, closing your eyes as you grow even more frustrated. You feel as if you’re about to cry when he leans forward, placing a soft kiss on your lips, “See,” he murmurs, kissing you harder this time, “this is how it feels. Every day. When I see you. Frustrated yet?” You nod as he pulls you into his lap. You feel his hardened erection between the both of you, making him hiss. 

“You’ll be the death of me, I sware it.” He growls, pulling your face to his. Neither of you wasted time with foreplay, not when your bodies knew each other the way they did. Minho lifted you up skillfully and planted you down on his throbbing cock, making you both groan. “Minho!” you cry out as he thrusts upward. He grunts in reply, hips meeting hips as he holds you in place. Water was spilling out of the tub as he thrust up into you. You held onto his shoulders, the sides of the tub, the wall behind his head, anything as he held his otherworldly pace. You felt yourself spinning off the edge of a blissful orgasm. You whine as Minho grabs your throat, baring his teeth at you, “So sinful. All mine.” He grounds out as he rolls his hips the way that drives you insane. You gasp, eyes rolling back as you moan uncontrollably. You cry out his name as he picks up his sick pace, holding you to his chest as he stills. 

You lay there, motionless and panting for a moment. You feel as if you’re still in the stratosphere when his cool fingertips pull you back to earth. “Angel, doing alright?” He asks, placing a soft kiss on your temple. You nod feebly, “mhm.” He chuckles, holding you as you relax against him. 

©️straykids-97

[eva-knits12]

Andy's Favorite Girls

Trigger warning: gestational diabetes, type I diabetes, childbirth, fluff

Summary: Andy , Joy, and Joelle welcome Penelope Rose Barber.

The nursery is set up. The crib and the changing table is built. You're busy folding onesies, and Andy is busy setting up the curtains. This is almost a flash back to six years ago, when you were pregnant with Joy. Only the theme of the nursery is different. Joy's theme was a nice, spring theme, and the theme for Penelope's nursery was a nice, flower garden theme.

Just like six years ago, Andy has his head resting on your nine months pregnant belly, and he kisses your belly.

"I love you, Penelope Rose," says Andy. Penelope kicks, and Joy walks in the nursery, carrying her back pack. It's Joy's last day of kindergarten, and she is excited.

"Mommy, Daddy, school's finally over!" says an excited Joy.

"I know, baby," says Andy.

You yawn, and Andy helps you up.

"Oh, honey, you look exhausted. Here, why don't you go take a nap for a bit, I'll take care of Joy," says Andy. Andy had promised Joy a trip to the beach this weekend, and you would go, too. Getting some sun would be good for you. You were hoping that you wouldn't go into labor before then.

Andy helps you on the bed, and gets your feet up. You don't remember your feet aching this bad when you were pregnant with Joy, so Andy sat on the edge of the bed, put your feet in his lap, and started to rub them. You fall asleep, and Andy covers you with a blanket.

Andy goes to make Joy her lunch, and he puts your lunch on a tray, and delivers it to you.

"Thank you, Andy," you say, with exhaustion in your voice.

"Oh, honey, this pregnancy has really worn you out, you were never this exhausted with Joy," says Andy, sympathy in his voice. You never were this tired with Joy, either. In fact, you were a ball of energy throughout most of Joy's pregnancy.

You were at a regular follow up appointment when you had to be given a blood test. The doctor found some sugar in your urine, and he had requested a blood test just because he had suspected that you had gestational diabetes. The blood test confirmed it. The fact that you were just constantly nauseous and tired all the time. You had no idea what causing this, and your doctor followed his gut instinct. He ordered the blood test and the UA, and the blood test confirmed it. You had to spend a few days in the hospital when Andy found you passed out on the kitchen floor one morning after Andy and Joy came back from her dance class. Andy kept the house running, and even worked from home.

You were given insulin, and even took it every day, you were still tired. The nausea had all but gone away, but you were still tired. The fatigue was making you feel even worse. You felt as if you had zero energy to do things. Andy and Joy were helping you get through this. Joy was drawing pictures to make you happy, Andy was taking care of you and running the house. He made sure that you got plenty of rest, took your insulin, and checked your blood sugar every day. Every day, Andy and Joy would visit you in the hospital until you were released.

Thanks to your PCP and your ob/gyn, they kept pushing for tests. There was just something off about this diagnosis. It was discovered that the gestational diabetes was only the beginning of something. You were eventually diagnosed with type I diabetes. How nobody caught it, you'll never know. Your doctor explained that the symptoms manifested themselves during this pregnancy.

Andy made sure you ate at frequently to keep your blood sugar steady, he made sure that you took your insulin, and he made sure that you drank plenty of water. He always brought you some juice, too, in case you started to go into diabetic shock. He even made sure that you checked your blood sugar before you ate and made sure that you checked your blood sugar often.

You were pregnant with baby number two. You now had to live daily life as an insulin dependent diabetic who was pregnant.

"Oh, honey. I know you didn't ask for this", says Andy, who is now giving you a foot rub.

"I know, Andy", you say, yawning.

You start going to sleep, and Andy covers you with a blanket. He kisses you on the cheek, and goes back to help Joy clean the kitchen, and wash up after lunch.

You're resting in bed, knitting a pair of booties for Penelope, when you felt a sharp pain. Andy comes up to check on you, and he sees you doubled over.

"Andy, I think it's time. AH!"you scream in pain.

Andy helps get you up, and places his arm around you. He kisses your forehead.

"Are you sure it isn't Braxton Hicks?" asks Andy. Andy fetches you a glass of water. You drink the water.

You drink the water, the half an hour later, another contraction washes over you. Andy calls the doctor, and tells Andy to get you to the hospital. Given your type I diabetes, your doctor didn't want to take chances and wait. The sooner you set up on a fetal monitor, blood sugar monitor, and insulin pump, the better.

Andy manages to get you to the hospital. The nurse sets you up on a fetal monitor and an insulin pump, and a blood sugar monitor. Eventually, your contractions get closer together. You're ready to deliver, so Andy puts on scrubs, and you start to push. Joy Grace is with your brother, and you're glad that she isn't witnessing you give birth. That's not a thing for a child to witness.

Penelope Rose is born, and you and Andy both get to hold her. It's amazing, and you feel lucky. You're lucky that you're alive. You're lucky that you are now navigating life as a type I diabetic. You feel lucky that Andy is not only caring, he is loving, and is an amazing husband.

Several weeks later, Andy takes Joy and you and Penelope to the beach. You slather on sunscreen on Joy, you put Penelope in her cute onesie, a cute bucket hat, and slather on sunscreen on her. Andy made sure to pack plenty of water in the cooler, along with plenty of snacks for you to help keep your sugar up. Andy also makes sure that you are checking your sugar, and are eating at proper intervals. Andy and Joy play in the water, and you sit and read your book, while keeping an eye on Penelope. You breast feed Penelope when she gets hungry.

Eventually, Andy gets him, Joy, and you a hot dog, along with some lemonade for him and Joy, and water for you. You all enjoy your picnic, and then watch the sunset. You all stop at your favorite seafood place for dinner, and you and Andy get the clam chowder, along with the side salad. Joy is happily eating her fish sticks with fries and her veggies. Penelope is sleeping in the stroller. Joy keeps trying to get Penelope to eat, but you and Andy explain that Penelope has to eat differently. You feed Penelope the way you fed Joy when she was a baby. You explain that Penelope drinks your milk directly from your breast, and that Joy did exactly the same when she was a baby.

When Andy pays the bill, you take the keys to the Audi. You get in the front seat, and breast feed Penelope. You check your sugars, and they are good. You, Joy, and Penelope fall asleep on the way home. When you get home, Andy checks your Dexcom. Your sugar is a little low, so he wakes you up, and brings you a small snack, along with some juice and some water.

"Andy, you are one amazing and loving husband. Laurie and Jacob missed out. I love you so much, and I love the girls so much," you say.

Andy smiles.

"I love you, too, Joelle. I love you and the girls so much," says Andy.

[magnolia-among-the-stars]

I Drink Wine (Jake Seresin, Chapter 1)

Summary: Gwendolyn Benjamin did everything she could to run away from her past. From the pain and heartbreak to come to California and live near her Aunt & Godmother, Penny. A hardened soul, she meets Jake Seresin who ends up turning everything she thought she swore off into a frenzy.

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Gwendolyn Benjamin (OC)

Warnings: Cursing, Angst

Tropes: Slow burn, Sunshine & Rainstorm

Word Count: 1250

next chapter

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            When I moved cross-country to be closer to my godmother Penny in Miramar, the last group of people I ever thought I would befriend were the rowdy group of elite Naval Aviator pilots who frequented the bar Penny owned. In fact, I had crossed my fingers and prayed to the heavens that be that there would be no bonding with anyone in the any format. And I wasn’t even religious.

            The breakup with Freddie still felt too fresh and the impact of how I viewed the world had dimmed since that time. I guess that’s natural when someone you plan to marry cheats on you. The breakup pushed me forward, driving me to finish my Doctorate as quick as the accredited university would allow and began applying immediately anywhere on the West Coast – away from my past. Penny was all too excited when I called with the news of accepting a teaching position at a San Diego college.

            “I have the most perfect place you can stay,” she shouted on the phone when I told her, struggling to contain her excitement. Now a few months later, I was settled into the quaint beach house on the coast of Miramar. The subtle lapping of the ocean was close enough to greet me in the morning as I drank my coffee and between the open flooring plan and the plethora of windows, I got plenty of light throughout the day.

            I was teaching two days a week, grading on the other days, and helping Penny manage the Hard Deck on the weekends when she needed me. I slept in an extra hour or so, just getting my hair up into a bun as I got my coffee pot turned on when my phone goes off. Penny’s name flashed across the screen, and I mumble to myself before sliding it open while grabbing a croissant from the fridge.

            “Hi Pen,” I answer, mouth full as the pot begins to hiss and brew.

            “Hi darling,” her cheerful tone rings through my ears. “Today’s your day off right?” I pour the freshly brewed pot into a mug, inhaling deeply as the scent curls through my senses. My shoulders sink into a relaxed state. I take a sip, distracted by the beauty of Folgers until I hear Penny’s voice cut through the air again. “Gwennie?” she calls out and I begrudgingly pull away from the ceramic.

            “Sorry,” I muttered, placing the steaming mug down and picking up my cell phone. “I’m here. Yes,” clearing my throat, I answer her. “I’m off today – I have a little bit of work to do but shouldn’t take all day.” Penny makes a noise of delight and there’s some shuffling.

            “I wanted to see if you wanted a nice change of scenery today. I’m at the bar doing inventory all day and it’s gorgeous so I’ve opened up all the patio doors,” she offers, hope sitting on her tongue. “It’ll be quiet most of the day until after dinner time,” Penny adds quickly, and I glance down at my coffee, to my porch with my makeshift patio table.

            “I think that would actually be really nice,” a small smile carves into my features as Penny cheers. “Take your time, I’ll get a pot of coffee brewing for when you get here. Bring your favorite mug.” My aunt knew me too well, a warmth falling over me as I tell her I love her, and I’ll see her soon. Hanging up, I take my steaming mug with me upstairs to shower and get ready to leave the house. I take my time, stepping under the scolding droplets of water and wash my hair.

            When I get done, I brush through my hair and dry it enough. I wash my face and moisturize, skipping my full makeup routine to give my face a break and instead just dab on a little chapstick and mascara. I pull the closest thing from my closet, a white shirt with 1/8 sleeves and a pair of worn jeans. I pack my tote bag with my laptop and grading materials, shoving my water bottle into the side along with my glasses. I slide on my comfy slides and leave the house, walking the short two miles to the bar with my mug in hand.

            Penny was right, the weather was perfect, sunshine with a light breeze. I inhaled the scent of the ocean and the summer sand as I walked along the pathway until I finally saw the large glow of the Hard Deck’s entrance and the nearly empty parking lot. I pass over the gravel, crunching beneath my feet until I grip the front door, peeling it open.

            I call out as I enter the building, glancing around the stacked chairs and freshly washed table surfaces before making my way to the bar counter. Placing my bag down on one of the stools, there is a large bang in the kitchen and a man I’ve never seen before enters the bar area holding a large box. The sudden movement of a stranger is enough to cause me to jump, dropping my mug onto the ground. I stare at it with a frown, shaking my hand of the burning liquid and swear.

            “Sorry to scare you darlin’ but we’re closed,” the man has a twang in his words, but I don’t give him much thought. Ignoring him entirely, my face warms as I slide far enough that my stomach rests on the bar top and I grab a handful of napkins to begin swiping at my hands.

            “Fuck,” I groan, noticing the swollen and red blotches spreading where the liquid settled.

            “I don’t think you heard me,” he repeats from a distance, “We’re clo-,”

            “Yeah, no shit,” I grunt, glaring at him momentarily as I not the open cleaning closet. I duck down on my knees, beginning collecting what I can of the wet and jagged ceramic bits into my palms with a heavy sigh. A pain pulls in my chest as I lift a large section with the word best scribbled along it, my eyes tearing away as I begin to stand and organize them on a napkin. Maybe I can glue the mug back together.

            It’s then that I realize the man is still staring at me, no longer holding onto the big box as he stands watching me. I glare at him before ducking back down to collect more pieces. I hear footsteps retreat and return a few moments later when a broom comes into view above the broken mug. “I can take care of the rest ma’am,” his voice is tight, and I shove the broom from the battlefield with intensity.

            “Are you fuckin’ stupid?” I ask venomously as his brows knit together, his jaw clenching. “If you sweep up the pieces, they’ll get stuck in the broom, and I’ll never be able to piece the mug back together.”

            “That mug is gone,” he states, his tone fresh now with a matter-of-fact energy. I narrow my eyes at him and scoff. “And like I mentioned, we’re closed so I’ll be happy to show you out.” A burst of energy from a ruined day, a perfectly good coffee in your favorite mug destroyed but before I have the chance, Penny appears behind the man with Pete in tow from the porch.

            “Gwennie,” Penny calls, “It looks like you met Hangman already,” her voice dies off, wide smile melting as she notices my sour expression and the man’s tense posture. Penny’s eyes trail down to my feet, taking in the damage before she frowns.

“Oh, honey.” Penny rushes over and gives me a tight hug, bending down to collect the rest of the pieces. She works with me to organize them on the napkin as Pete clasps the man’s shoulder, leading him out onto the porch to give the two of you a few minutes.

“It’s ruined,” I murmur, eyes watery now that there was space away from the stranger. Penny purses her lips and shakes her head, eyes intense.

“It is not, we’ll work together to piece it together. It’ll be even better than before. I’ll get that good craft glue from the store next week, okay?” I close my eyes for a moment, bottom lip quivering as I begin to nod.

            “Do you want a fresh cup? I know it won’t be the same, but I’ve got a few mugs that might help,” Penny offers with a hopeful smile. I can see the support in her eyes, twinkling as she tries to help the situation the best she can. It’s a look that became more and more familiar as I grew up, the frustration simmering into a dull ache in my back that I knew that time could potentially work through. So, breathing out a small smile, I find myself nodding.

            “That’d be great, Pen,” I tell her lightly, fingers twirling the ceramic on the damp-stained napkin. “I love you.” I kept my head dipped low as she nodded, placing a delicate hand over mine and squeezing before she rushed out back, returning moments later with a new mug.

            A cackle escaped me without processing, a tear sliding down my cheeks as I sniffled. “Fuckin’ fishing,” I tell her as she leans her elbows onto the countertop to present the new mug to me. Though not nearly close to the one in front of me, this one was olive green and there was an ugly fish curved to form the handle.

            “Fuckin’ fish,” Penny grins before leaning over to press a chaste kiss to my temple, turning to pour me a fresh cup as I pull my laptop and papers from my bag.

            “So, who’s the asshole?” I ask, fishing out my glasses as I log in, “I didn’t know you hired someone new. Doesn’t seem like the friendly staff.” Penny slides the mug in front of me just as footsteps echo behind me.

            “Ignore him,” Pete returns alone, leaning over to give me a side hug which I accept lightly before taking a sip of the coffee. “He’s a little lacking in the manners department.”

            “Is he one of yours?” Pete nods, his nose crinkling.

            “He just got back from a long deployment so he’s still adjusting to be back with non-military folks,” Pete explains, sliding in next to me as Penny slides him a water. I hum, already lost in my paperwork and entering grades into my tracking system for one of my classes.

The feeling of nausea rises within me, and I blink a few times to read through my notes as we sit in the comfortable silence of the lazy afternoon. As the day passes, a few other staff start to show up to start up the kitchen prep for the evening along with Jimmy. The radio strums along classic after classic until the sun begins to dim and my stomach growls.

            “Hungry Gwennie?” Penny asks, finally finishing her work as Pete and her run through her final numbers for inventory together to send out the order. Before I can answer again, my stomach grumbles and I crack an embarrassed smile.

            “I should probably head home to eat something,” I murmur, sliding from the chair to pack up as Penny moves toward where I’m standing.

            “Why don’t you stay and hang out for a few hours,” Penny offers, that same twinkle back in her stare as she awaits your denial.

            “Pen,” I start but she doesn’t let me get it out this time. Doesn’t let me give my usual speech, memorized to perfection, and executed with intention.

            “You never let yourself live for a moment anymore Gwennie,” Penny almost scolds, gentle as she can muster. “I’m worried about you if I’m honest.” That pulls at my heart, a tight feeling in my chest that only resounds from how much I know she means it. I know a part of me died over the from existence all that had happened over the last year and a half. I could feel a hole within me, nagging for compassion again. I just didn’t know if I could trust myself to take anymore.

            But I swallowed that down, one night and a few hours couldn’t hurt. So again, under the influence of Penny’s intense love, I nod. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

next chapter

[frostedlemonwriter]

Untitled Fantasy One Shot

I finally finished that story I started some days ago. Here it is in its entirety. Can also find it on my substack here

The sun was an uncaring, relentless force. Mixed with too much sand and wind, enough to send a man flying when it desired, the Tehari desert was not the place for any living creature. Though, there were plenty, mostly large black birds that circled above. A woman was lashed and nailed to a death tree, a large crossed set of wooden beams that held her in place. Her brown hair waved in the wind; it beat against her sun-kissed skin. Beads of sweat glistened in the unforgiving sun. Her nudity presented to any that would find her here, but that was a long shot. She knew her life would end sooner rather than later. There was a certain peace in such knowledge. A wooden sign hung from a hempen rope tied around her neck, down to cover the bottom of her stomach that decreed the made-up crimes the woman didn’t commit. She couldn’t even remember what they were supposed to be.

One of the large black birds with a naked neck and head landed upon the cross arm. Its beady little black eyes stared deep into her soul, just enough energy for her to glance at the feathered demon. A harbinger of death, of Isolde, the dual-faced goddess of death and fertility, to some vultures were her messengers. She prayed for a quick death, but the bird didn’t wish to peck her eyes out or rip open her stomach. The elements will take her soon. The bird had more patience than most.

Though her mind played tricks on her, she knew the truth with her own eyes. There on the horizon was a group of figures. With her vision going dark, the end was coming, and it wouldn’t be stopped. Each time her eyes opened, the group got closer and closer. Dark-skinned, they spoke in a lilting language, their ears long and pointed. She didn’t know their intentions. Her vision went black again before they reopened to feel the hot sand under her body.

“Help,” Was all she could squawk out.

Her vision went black again, and she didn’t return to the woman for what seemed like eons, but it also seemed like no time had passed. The mind is the strongest magic one could find. A humming from another woman came to her ears before her eyes opened to the inside of a yurt—several dried herbs strung above her head whose scent was masked by burning incense set beside her. 

A soft pallet comprised of furs and hides cushioned her body, which was covered by a fur blanket. She could move and sit up, but before she could go further, a crone-like hand grabbed her shoulder with an unexpected softness.

“You’re alive, dead woman,” The wizened woman said. Her skin was etched with the lines of seasons upon seasons that had past the woman by—white hair in elaborate braids with multi-colored beads strewn throughout. Long, pointed ears with many rings pierced throughout. “You’re in the hands of the Ardenai. You will live, dead woman.”

“Water,” The woman croaked. “Please.”

The elf removed a water skin from the frayed leather belt to offer to the human woman. Of which was gladly taken. She drank and drank from the skin until the matron stopped her with an admonishment of moderation. The human knew this well but felt her thirst desired more, yet she handed back the water skin.

“The hunters wished your death. They do not trust humans. Especially exiles doomed to death,” The matron’s voice was low and heavy with each word spoken. As if she carried the burden of time with her. “Robbery, buggery, and murder? Did you commit these crimes? Do not lie to me. I will know.”

The human woman looked deep into the matron’s deep honey-brown eyes for a moment. Perhaps she considered her words as there was a great chance she would end up alone in the desert.

“I was a thief, and I have killed ‘fore. But only those who attacked me first. Self-defense isn’t murder.” The human fully sat up. “Buggery? Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve…never…”

“It’s fine, young’un. I believe ya. ‘Sides, being light of foot, quick of hand, and full of wit was never a bad thing. Rest up. We will speak ‘gain very soon, and ya can repay us for the medicinal herbs, water, and food, yes?” The matron stood up but didn’t leave yet. “What is yer name, girl?”

“Tegan of Ryre.”

“I’m Grand Matron Nysarial. Get some rest. Ya will live.” She let out a breath Tegan didn’t know the older woman held. Then turned and left the yurt, and a hot blast of air followed in her wake.

Tegan sighed as she scanned the yurt for anything that could be used as makeshift coverings. That’s when she noticed a pair of brocade pants with a matching tunic. No foot coverings, but Tegan wasn’t picky in this regard. She was tired of being tired and laying here like an invalid. 

The sun hung just above the horizon. Which casted its long tendrils across the land which formed into fingers of shadows. Several yurts formed a semi-circle with a few camels and horses within a sturdy wooden pen along with a rather sizable lean-to. A smelter made of sandbricks stood beside a hot forge and a large muscular man who pounded hammer upon red-yellow metal. A large yurt capped the small village-like camp, and it was undoubtedly where the leader resided. Every pair of eyes were upon her. Self-consciousness bloomed within the forefront of her mind. With a deep breath, Tegan walked up to the large yurt.

Two young men clad in leather wrappings and covered in burnt umber-colored body paint. They crossed their spears in an effort to stop her. One barked at Tegan that she wasn’t allowed within the presence of Princess Itaynia. Yet, before they could push her away a tiny voice came from within. “Is that our visitor? Let ‘er in, please.”

The guards moved out of Tegan’s way without protest. Their eyes focused ahead, as if Tegan suddenly became invisible to the pair. Lingering in the air was a spicy aroma of a particular incense that she had never smelled before. Almost an intoxicating smell for Tegan. Carpets made of the finest materials along with green silk curtains trimmed in a brocade of gold. Sashes held them open, silk with matching gold brocade as well. An ebony screen blocked off what appeared to be a bathing and sleeping area off to the side. A dark throne sat within in middle of the giant yurt with a young teenage woman perched upon it. Her eyes matched the curtains with full lips painted with a purple dye. Her nose was like the classic nobles of old–aquiline that flared just a bit. Would be off-putting, Tegan thought, if it wasn’t for its connection to nobility and royalty. If you didn’t have proof of your lineage, this would be it. The woman’s ears were as long and pointed as everyone else in the camp. No doubt a sign of the Ardenai, as she had seem them on no other people but their own. Beside her stood the Grand Matron, dignified in her old age.

“So, ya must be Tegan, eh?” Princess Itaynia already knew the answer to her question. “My scouts found ya nailed to a death tree. Naked as the day you were born. Isolde’s own circling above waitin’ for their feast of which we denied. My spiritual guide here kept ya on the path of living. For that you owe us a boon.”

“One I intend to repay fully, m’lady,” Tegan replied.

“I had no doubt,” the princess said. “I hear you are quite light on your feet, hmm?”

Tegan nodded.

“That is very good, then. I’ll have a task for you in the morning. As for tonight, you may stay in the tent where you came to. Food shall be provided shortly along with some water. I caution you, human. Do not leave your tent except to relieve yourself. I have given orders for my kin and kind to not harm a hair upon you, but they can be overzealous with their hatred ‘gainst humans.”

“Am I gonna be gutted as I sleep?” Tegan inquired, her voice a little higher than anticipated.

Itaynia chuckled, which caused the silk fabric to rustle. “Not if they know what is good for them. Now I ask you to return to your shelter. In the morning, we shall speak again about the task at hand.”

Tegan gave a slight bow, was that proper? Before she turned on her heels and walked back to the tent that would be her home for the evening. It was hard to ignore the stares, but what was she to do? This was just as weird to her as it was for them. Even if she was grateful to them for saving her life.

A small basket woven from reeds sat on the pallet Tegan woke up on. Laden with a load of flatbread, a small container of dark amber honey, and date fruit of various sizes. Tegan’s stomach growled in protest; that was all she needed to dig into the food. Each bite was just as delicious as the other. The bread’s healthy multigrain, offset by the spiced honey with the concentrated sweetness of the dates, made for the best meal she had had in some time. Better than the street junk she was used to. Her stomach was full, and her body was still weaker than expected, so a restful sleep came over her.

Before dawn had fully come, there was a voice, a melodic elvish voice. “Wake up, human,” a woman called out.

Tegan’s eyes opened to spot a young elven woman, skin as dark as her kin with long braided hair pulled back behind her pointed ears. Their eyes were as green as emeralds. A ruby red symbol was tattooed on the right side of her face. She was clad in rigid leather armor reinforced by metal bands, with an iron breastplate.

“Your repayment begins,” the woman moved from the opening of the yurt.

There was no time for contemplation. Tegan got up and stepped out into the cold morning air. The desert was a land of two extremes. It would burn you during the day and freeze you at night. The woman looked muscular, impressive to Tegan once she could fully see her. Both beautiful and deadly, one of the feared Hunters–scouts and warriors of the Ardenai.

“We need a particular item retrieved from a temple east of here. A temple where our normal scouts and hunters wouldn’t touch,” the woman’s voice was husky, lower than most despite still having that melodic tone all elves seemed to have. “I am to go with you.”

“What’s the item?” Tegan asked.

“An idol for one of our gods. I will know it when I see it.”

With a cocked eyebrow, Tegan looked at the elf. “Then why am I going? Is it dangerous?”

“Very much so, yes.”

The two women stood there for a moment, but the elf broke the silence, “I’m Ryvalia.”

“Tegan, a pleasure.” They grasped forearms and smiled at one another. “Do I get somethin’ to protect myself with?”

“Yes, and supplies,” Ryvalia handed over a satchel weighed down with food, skins of water, a torch hung off the side along with a dagger covered in a protective sheath that dangled beside the torch.

Tegan took the satchel and wrapped it around her torso.

“Alright. Lead the way.”

Ryvalia nodded. “Don’t you want to know more?”

“I want to know everythin’, but I figured you’d share with me as we walked. No time to waste, aye?” Tegan shifted her weight, a contemplative expression purposefully directed to Ryvalia. “The only thing I want to know is if this will make me even with the tribe?”

“Not for me to say. I just know what I must do. Let’s go so we can be back as quickly as possible.”

[sonseniormedicare]

The 14 Best Times to Drink Water in a Day to prevent Dehydration

The Best Times to drink water matter because it’s clear that drinking enough water is important to health. Water accounts for up to 75% of the body weight, water plays a key role in regulating everything from brain function to physical performance to digestion and many more .

Everyone should be aware that drinking water daily is just  good to maintain one’s health and their well-being. One can have it ice cold, hot, infused with fruit, and many other ways to quench that thirst. But though, there are best times to drink water.

This article takes a look at best times to drink water and these include;

1. When One is feeling Hungry

One could really be thirsty. Most people don’t know they’re actually thirsty when hunger seems to strike. The brain recognizes these triggers in same. So before you hit the pantry, drink some water first. Then give it a few minutes to see if it satisfies the urge to eat.

2. Before having a Meal

Drinking water before a meal call it  “preloading”  can help you lose weight. A small study tested people who drank 500 milliliters that’s a little over 16 ounces of tap or bottled water about 30 minutes before mealtimes and throughout the day as they wished. Over 12 weeks, the preloaders lost almost 3 pounds more than those who didn’t follow the protocol.

3. Whenever you perspire

Anything that makes you sweat forexample a sauna or a hot tub, time outside on a hot, muggy day can make the body to lose fluid. Ditto with exercise. As the muscles warm up, the body perspires to cast off heat. You’ll need to cool down with lots of water.

4. Before, during, and after exercise

You need enough of water to replace what you sweat out. Before you work out or spend time outside, fill up your bottle with 16 to 20 ounces of water. Drink 6 to 12 ounces about every 10-15 minutes while you’re active. Afterward, drink up again another 16 to 24 ounces.

5. When one is unwell

Hydration is important to healing when you’re sick. Symptoms like diarrhea, vomiting, and fever can cause extreme water loss. At the first sign of illness, drink lots of water, especially when you’re not hungry.  Avoid alcohol and caffeinated drinks. They’ll dry out the system even more.

6. When you’re on a plane

Ever wondered why you get so parched and thirsty when you are on the plane, It’s all about altitude. The higher the plane goes, the drier the cabin air becomes and around half the air in the cabin flows in from outside. To combat the super-low humidity level, carry on an empty water bottle to fill up as needed during your flight.

7. When you Get a Massage

The massage therapist will thank you if you take water before you hit the table. The muscles will be softer and more supple, which makes it easier for them to manipulate the tender tissue. This body work releases substances you should flush out afterward with plenty of water, too. This is extra important if you have a deep tissue or other heavy-duty massage

8. Before Gaming

Do you know almost three-fourths of the brain contains fluid? If your levels dip too low, the blood vessels in this organ shrink. This can affect coordination, short-term memory, attention span, and stamina, a Chinese study found. So if you feel tired and muddled, pass up a caffeine-charged energy drink. Simply drinking water can help you bounce back.

9. When You’re in a Midday Slump

It’s mid-afternoon and the energy has left the building. Don’t start a new pot of coffee, though. Instead, have a tall glass of water maybe sparkling to add some pizza with lemon or another flavoring to bump up the mood. Your hydration state directly affects mood, memory, and visual perception, the British Journal of Nutrition reports.

10. When you have a headache

One of the top migraine triggers is dehydration. Some people report that even a slight dip in fluid intake can bring on an intense headache. It also can make you feel fuzzy, and in some cases even require medical treatment. Especially if you’re migraine-prone, keep a water bottle handy at all times and track your intake. If you feel a twinge coming on, a glass can save your day.

11. When You get up from bed

First thing in the morning is one of the best times to hydrate. Your body has gone through a long fast. For a simple jump start, squirt half a lemon in your first glass of a.m. water for a bright boost of antioxidant phytonutrients, vitamin C, and potassium.

12. Take enough water

More fluid is better for average, healthy adults. 15.5 cups a day is good for men, while 11.5 cups a day from all food and drinks is enough for most women. But this includes hydration from food and all beverage sources. Your own needs depend on your health, how much you need

13. Before your menstrual Period

One can ease premenstrual discomfort and reduce bloating by drinking lots of water before the period, as well as during. One of the biggest causes of cramps or headaches is dehydration. A recent study of young women with dysmenorrhea (very painful menstruation) found that drinking more water shortened their cycles, eased pelvic pain, and lessened their need for pain relief.

14. When you want to chop weight

Water is more than a calorie-free way to help yourself feel full. It may also rev up your metabolism. In one study, 50 girls with extra weight drank about 2 cups of water half an hour before breakfast, lunch, and dinner with no other changes in their diet. After 8 weeks, they lost weight and lowered their body mass index and body composition scores. Water also speeds up lipolysis, your body’s process of burning fat for energy

Conclusion

After reading through it, I hope these recommendations can help you know the best times to drink water in a day. Set yourself up for success in your routine. Implementing these small changes can make a world of difference in the long run.

[toruland]

Good morning my love 💕💕💕

Don't forget to stretch before you start your day, don't forget about breakfast and water either

Even if you aren't hungry it's better than not eating at all, at least grab a bagel or something small

The water will help fill you up too

And don't apologize baby, you need rest after being busy all the time

Mmmwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah 😚💕💕💕💕

I hope you have a wonderful day today my love, you deserve it💖

i did do a big stretch this morning :D

i also ate a sausage biscuit for breakfast and drank plenty of water throughout today! (i had lunch too)

mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mmmwwwahhhhhh 💗💗💗💗

thank you for the sweet wishes today, because i did end up having a great day <3 even going off of 4 hours of sleep lolol

i hope your day was just as good as, if not better than, mine, my love 💓💓

[davidjduran]

IM Tulsa 2022 Race Report

Preface

Better late than never. Post IM I checked out and shifted gears to summer fun with the kids. Kept running streak going until day 288 on July 4th. From fitness pov I've been slacking off over the summer but plan to get back into it more socially with school back in session and fall around the corner.

Venue

Honestly I picked this race for the time of year over the location, but Tulsa ended up being pretty cool. It was a bit of a hike from the east coast but doable. TUL airport very convenient to town, although it required a connection from NJ. Lots of good restaurants, bars, arts, and entertainment options. A great bike shop. Lots of coffee shops. Too many pot dispensaries. And a diverse mix of old run down sections, newly developed ones, and beautiful historic buildings from the early 1900's.

Stayed: Hotel Indigo Downtown. Pricey for Ironman/PGA weekend but convenient to everything.

Ate & Drank: - Lo Wood: Higher end meal our first night. Excellent. - Jinya: Good Ramen noodle bar. - Vampire: Sandwiches. - Dilly's Diner: Amazing breakfast options. So good we went back again. - Cherry St Kitchen: Ok breakfast. - McNellie's Pub: Good bar food and vast beer list. - Arthur G's BBQ: When in Rome. - Sweets: HURT Donuts, Rose Rock Microcreamery - Coffee: Black Wall Street, Soda, Gypsey

Bike Shop: Phat Tire. Can't say enough good things about these guys. Got me tuned up lickety split, and repacked the bike for return so we had more time to enjoy Tulsa.

Lead Up

We left at stupid o'clock Thursday morning from EWR but everything went smoothly and arrived on time around noon in Tulsa. Despite a brief scare where my bike ended up not loading on our EWR->ORD connecting flight, somehow AA got it to us via DFW just 15' after we landed in TUL. Pro tip, throw an AirTag in your case so you can see where your bike is in near real time.

There was a lot to do those first 48 hours. Thur: Reassembled bike, dropped at shop for tune up, athlete check in, last taper run. Nice meal out at Lo Wood. Fri: Recon swim at Keystone lake (out of town), drove complete bike course. Short bike on run course. Organized race day bags. Raman at Jinya. Sat: Big breakfast at Dilly's Diner. Checked in bike and bags. Watched Bond. Early to bed (~8pm).

Goals

I started training for this from pov of "What would it take to KQ?" and working backwords from my prior PR of 11:38 at IMWI in 2015. Idea was to systematically reverse engineer the fitness and know how to KQ, or at least to get close and then build on that down the road.

After some soul searching and lots of EN Team feedback, I shifted my mindset for race day from specific output based time/place goals to one of inputs and process. In other words, don't chase a time. Inputs >> Outputs. Prioritize process throughout the day and results will follow.

All that said, I definitely wanted to improve time and execution vs. my prior 11:38.

Race Day

Morning

Followed my plan. 1st breakfast around 2am, then back up at 4am, walked up to shuttle. Jen and I both managed to squeeze on and ride together which was nice. Got to T1 around 5:30am. Tires, fluids, Garmin & batteries on, bike check, etc.

A storm had rolled through the day before so it ended up thankfully being much colder than expected (low 50's). I debated the day before on what to wear and ultimately stuck with EN Tri top + arm warmers and gloves which proved very helpful!

Swim

Went ok but plenty of room for improvement. This is by far my weakest discipline and I still haven't unlocked some fundamental form issues. Liked the format change to rolling start and last minute decision to modify from 1 to 2 laps as water was very choppy further out. Somehow this increased the total distance to ~4750yds (+500yds) and caused extra confusion when they moved the T3 buoy between lap 1 and 2! I didn't wear a watch but check out these other tracks.

For future - think I really need to dedicate a season to swim form including a week+ camp w/ coaching to fix some fundamental issues.

Actual time 1:31 ~= 1:55/100yd on the longer course, and almost identical pace to IMWI although AG 29th of 88 starters was a definite improvement.

T1

4:27 w/ minimal fooling. Passed 55 men in T1, 6 in AG. Wetsuit stripper was fab -- snap and right off. Grabbed bag. Helmet and shoes on. Arm warmers and gloves on at the bike added the most time but helped keep me warm enough on the ride.

Cumulative AG: 23rd (up 6)

For future - only way I see to improve this is to have shoes on bike and do a rolling start. And ditch gloves and arm warmers if temps permit.

Bike

Plan called for 2 GE bottles/hr until peed twice, then 1.5 bottles/hr thereafter. Priority on hydration vs. solid calories. Intensity as 130-135bpm and 215-220w NP (314w ftp). Steady, do no harm, setup the run, "Wait for it".

Right off the bat I was feeling very full and stomach grumbly. Think my Saturday breakfast/dinner + Sun morning breakfast was a bit too much. Took some time to settle in sipping fluids, probably not getting down quite as much as I had planned, but fortunately with the cooler temps it wasn't an issue. Now some months later I don't remember exact consumption but it would have been a couple bottles short of plan (~8 vs 10), finishing with H2O + salt instead of GE to help clear stomach before run.

After the first 20 miles or so I was surprised to be regularly passing super fit guys on super fancy bikes and found myself triple checking RPE, HR, and NP to ensure I wasn't overcooking anything. All checked out.

Effort per hour splits: HR (Plan 130-135bpm): 138, 133, 134, 133, 135, 138 NP (Plan 215-220w): 214, 221, 215, 210, 211, 218

Stayed safe, aero (it was fairly windy), draft legal, careful on some of the rougher roads and descents. Wait for it.

Biggest challenge was the GI and then, once again, peeing like a champ, probably 5-6x which cost me a few minutes. Some room for optimizing here, especially on cooler days.

Overall ride: 5:38 (8th in AG), 215w NP, 265TSS Cumulative AG: 14th (up 9)

For future - mostly refining the nutrition/hydration plan. Few extra watts and more flexible/aero position wouldn't hurt.

T2

2:46 again no fooling. Right in. Helmet off. Socks and shoes on. Ziplock go bag w/ watch, number, hat, and race saver bag. And on the road! Saw Jen coming out of T2 which was a nice mental boost! Total T1+T2 time 7:14 was 3rd in AG!

Cumulative AG: 12th (up 2)

Great EN highlight here @ 6:30 mark.

For future - Do it again! Possibly leave shoes on bike.

Run

Always great to come off the bike unscathed! Run plan was to 1) settle HR early on, 2) confirm hydration status and no GI issues, 3) remain disciplined and gradually ramp RPE/HR across the course.

Loosely planned effort by HR as: ~135bpm first 6 miles, then drifting up to mid 140's ~halfway, then capping at 150bpm until final 5km. Planned to sip a GE bottle from T2 1st 6 miles, then start augmenting w/ Bloks every 2.5-3mi and fluids from the course.

As with the bike, actual consumption is a little fuzzy. In my T2 haste I forgot the go bottle. Started sipping GE/H20 at each aid station with just a few steps walking to get it down.

HR out of the gate was a bit high (low 140's). Tried to bring it down but after a few miles just accepted that it wasn't rising and would cap it in low 140's until about 1/2 way.

Kept cadence up. Smooth. Not chasing. Settled in. Stayed in my box. Thanked the volunteers and smiled a lot.

Somewhere along the 1st lap out started overhearing people chatting about the swim course being all messed up and longer than expected. It seemed to be extra baggage they were carrying throughout the day and glad I hadn't even registered it at the time.

Had hoped to start passing more people in the 2nd lap but with the rolling start and no AG marks it was really difficult to tell who was who and overall standings. Perhaps for the best as I just ran my race and tried to maintain a pace which definitely got harder towards the end.

Didn't really stick to a specific nutrition plan in back half. Just made sure to drink something at each aid station. Alternating between cola and ice water in the back half. Took an advil somewhere in there and just kept trucking.

Key metrics (Mile 1-6, 7-12, 13-18, 19-23, Final 5km) Pace: 7:45/mi, 8:10, 8:13, 8:29, 8:51 (uphill back to town) AvgHR: 143bpm, 144, 146, 145, 144

Overall run: 3:36 (10th in AG) Cumulative AG: 12th (no change)

For future - I think the durability plan and run streak really helped here. Ideally would steal another 5' or so through faster TRP and perhaps some mental toughness to push RPE up when it gets tough.

Finish

Total time: 10:52 (PB by 46 minutes) 12th AG, 39th Male, 44th Overall

Always amazing to come across the finish and especially after a steady well executed day. Didn't realize it would be Mike's last year so that's a cool bonus. The Mrs was right there at the finish and we got a great hug and photo right in the chute. The volunteers helped me get situated, stood to block the sun while I collected myself, and were just generally great. Thought I was ready for some real food. Tried a burger. NOPE. Tried a hot dog. NOPE. Eventually nibbled on some chips or something and caught my breath.

One of my unofficial goals was to have a cocktail on the rooftop bar of our hotel, with the Mrs, before sunset after the race. We got up there in plenty of time but were told the bar had closed early on a slow Sunday night! After a brief standoff with the bartender and explaining what I'd just done, he ended up letting us in, and I got that cocktail!

KQ

I'll admit after seeing some crazy roll down action earlier in the year I started to get my hopes up and went to the awards ceremony the next morning. I had never gone before and it was pretty cool to see the level of fitness, excitement, and commitment within that group. Unfortunately the 4 spots got scooped up by first 4 places, with the 4th place time 30' faster than me. Can I find another 30' in there somewhere? I think so! 15' in the swim alone! If and when I go for it again remains to be seen.

Shout Outs

Of course all this would not have been possible without a lot of support along the way.

Thanks to my Mrs and IronMate for always encouraging me to keep going, enabling longer ride days, getting the kids, and often having Italian subs ready when I got home. Also for joining me on our Tulsa "vacation" which included a lot of running around here and there and a 60 mile scenic drive of rural Tulsa. Spectating is just as tough a sport I'm convinced!

Thanks to my folks for coming out and watching the kids while we were gone. And to the kids for also putting up with me coming and going and often sweaty at school pickup after a ride or run.

Thanks to everyone that commented on the socials during the race. It's always motivating to know people are watching and fun to relive the day.

Lastly, to the EN Team and Coaches for lots of good advice and support over the last 9 months. This is not something I do regularly so borrowing with pride and standing on the shoulders of giants has been a big help to make the most use of my time and to stay foucsed on the the areas that matter.

--

Data Crunch https://www.endurance-data.com/en/result/659/381-david-duran/

[fernweh-writes]

Can I request the slashers with a reader with really watery eyes and whenever he/she/they blink it looks like their crying but their not and cause of that they constantly need water to drink? I have to deal with this when the pollens really bad where I live and I swear I'd be rich if i gain a dollar eachtime someone asks if I'm ok

Allergies are the worst as it is I can’t imagine having to deal with my eyes watering 24/7. Sorry this took so long to get to!

-Fern🌿

S/O With Bad Allergies

Michael Myers

Michael has a pretty good immune system and has never dealt with bad allergies. Guess he just got lucky. So seeing your eyes water so much just because of the pollen kind of freaks him out.

At first, he genuinely thought that you were crying. His first thought was that he was fixing to have to quickly take care of a new victim, assuming that someone has messed with you.

After you catch him staring though you quickly figure that he’s worried. You’ll have to reassure him multiple times that it’s just your allergies and that he won’t have to hunt anyone down today.

Still doesn’t believe that you aren’t crying until it continues over the course of a few days. Then he figures that it’s best to not let you get dehydrated. It may seem like Michael is never around but you’ll be finding glasses of water all over the house. It’s his way of reminding you to drink water.

Bo Sinclair

When Bo first catches you dabbing at your eyes with a tissue, of course his first thought is that you’re crying. His first instinct is to turn and run. Bo does care about you but he doesn’t handle crying people very well and all he can think about at that moment is making a getaway.

Sadly, you catch him before he can bolt. “Hey, Bo, do we have any more tissues? My allergies are killing me and my eyes won’t stop leaking.”

You have no clue how relived he is that your eyes are just watering from allergies and you’re not bawling. He can handle allergies better than he can crying, so don’t worry, Bo to the rescue!

When he brings you a box of tissues he also makes sure to bring you a bottle of water. Although his thoughts are less about you getting dehydrated from your eyes watering and more of just knowing that it’s good to drink water when you’re sick.

Vincent Sinclair

I still believe that Vincent has a lot of medical knowledge. So when he catches you wiping away at your eyes even though you’re not sobbing or sniffling he puts two and two together pretty quickly.

Because of this, he’s also pretty well at handling the situation. He’ll quickly return with allergy meds, a box of tissues, and of course water. Louisiana is already hot, he can’t have you getting dehydrated because of your allergies.

He keeps his brothers from giving you weird looks and asking questions as well. Vincent knows he hates being stared at and wouldn’t want his brothers to make you feel the same way. Besides, even if you were crying it’s none of their business.

Your his so it’s job to worry over you and take care of you not his brothers. Expect him to keep you close to him until you recover a little bit. He may be just a little bit possessive over you.

Brahms Heelshire

You freak him out a little bit when he first witnesses the symptoms of your allergies. Brahms has lived a very sheltered life and hasn’t been exposed to anyone being very sick so it’s something new for him.

When you reassure him that you’re not crying it’s just your allergies he’s just even more confused honestly. You’re really telling him plants made you cry? Brahms may be smart when it comes to literature and history but he’s hopeless with anything science related.

Still he does his best to help you out. He’ll be more lenient with the rule following and the schedule. Brahms might even be sweet enough to let you sleep in and rest some.

He’ll be easily frustrated by the fact you’re not taking care of him like normal though. Because of this you can still expect the occasional tantrum, however, luckily for you, it’s not directed at you and it’s Brahms not knowing how to deal with his frustration.

Thomas Hewitt

When he sees you and thinks you’re crying he freaks out. Immediately begins wondering what happened. Did you get hurt? Are you injured? Did Hoyt or Monty do something to you?

After explaining to him that you’re just dealing with really bad allergies he immediately takes you to Luda Mae. She always takes care of everyone when they’re sick, so surely she’ll know how to help you.

She’ll give you tea and send you up to bed to get some rest. Sends Thomas to keep an eye on you and makes sure he gets you to drink plenty of water. It’s already easy to get dehydrated in the Texas weather, much less with your eyes watering like crazy.

Thomas will stay by your side the entire time to make sure that you’re okay, fetching you anything you need or want. He’s worried sick about you and just wants you to feel better and not look so sad and miserable.

Billy Loomis

He’s scared of emotions and while he can play the part of very concerned boy next door type of boyfriend he really wants nothing more than to get the hell away before you notice him.

Even once you explain to him that no you’re not crying, he’s still not going to be much help. If you needed him to murder fight someone for you, then he could help. But a really bad case of allergies? Sorry, you’re on your own.

Still, if you insist of going somewhere he’s watching over you like a hawk. Billy will deter anyone from asking you if you’re okay, knowing that you hate being confronted about crying when really your eyes just won’t stop watering.

Still, he’s not stupid and pretty much forces you to drink water. It’s the closest thing you’re going to get to affection from him during this. He’s trying his best okay.

Stu Macher

Stu was most likely rambling on about who knows what when he looks up and you’re wiping away at all the tears on your face. The best response he can think of is a very uninterested, “what are you crying about?”

Much like Billy he’s not much help besides making sure you drink plenty of water.

He’s also more likely to make fun of you that anyone else. Billy keeps people from asking questions or making fun while Stu is the one asking questions and bullying you. He loves you but he’s not going to pass up the chance to pick on you.

Of course, he’ll stop if you tell him that it bother you but if you don’t speak up he’ll go on and on. If someone else tries to make fun of you though, then he just might start a fight. He can make fun of you, anyone else just has a death wish.

Asa Emory

Again, doesn’t do emotions. Asa doesn’t see himself as an emotional person and doesn’t do good at comforting others or dealing with their emotions. So when he sees what he thinks to be crying he’s going to try his hardest to sneak away.

Asa can be very awkward when it comes to trying to take care of you. He’s not sure what to do considering having a relationship with anyone is very foreign to him.

Still, you’re his responsibility and it’s his job to take care of you so he’ll do his best. Asa sends you constant reminders throughout the day to drink water so that you don’t get dehydrated. It’s best if you listen, cause even if he isn’t home all day, he’ll know. Asa always knows.

Jesse Cromeans

As soon as Jesse spots you he rushes over to figure out what’s wrong. Scooping you up into his arms, he’ll be checking over you to make sure you’re not injured.

Once you explain to him that it’s just your allergies he’s still going to be a big mother hen about the whole ordeal. Have you drank water? You can’t get dehydrated! You haven’t taken your allergy meds? He’ll stand over you to make sure that you take them.

He’s very protective so if he feels the need to he’ll have his medical team check in on you to make sure that it is just your allergies. Jesse just hates seeing you be miserable and will do anything in his power to help you.

[laviethepooh]

fever dream | kokomi x reader

summary. kokomi comforts you after you have a bad fever dream

ft. kokomi, mentions of gorou and kujou sara

cw. hurt/comfort, sickness, nightmares, war, violence, death?

wc. 0.9k

notes. good luck to all kokomi wishers! i’m giving y’all all of my kokomi luck since i’m not pulling for her, but no guarantees! (i just want xingqiu from that banner bc i’m a chongyun main) i didn't see enough kokomi x readers so it's a bit self-indulgent for me LOL- regardless, enjoy! <3

the moment you tried to get out of bed, you knew something was wrong. your head was throbbing, your throat was parched, and you were sweating too hard. you felt disoriented and sluggish.

“water. i need water,” you decided as you dragged your feet to the doorway, leaning against the wall for support.

when you opened the door, you were surprised to see that kokomi was standing in front of it, military strategy books in her hands. you frowned. wasn’t she supposed to be at a meeting today? or maybe that was yesterday? it didn’t matter. you were glad to see kokomi smiling softly in front of you.

but kokomi’s smile disappeared when she saw the state you were in and she immediately pressed a gloved hand against your forehead. her gentle expression turned into one of worry. “you’re burning up. shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“i needed water,” you mumbled, leaning into the cool touch of kokomi, “i’m thirsty.”

kokomi laughed. a sound that reminded you of playful waves on a beach. “silly, i can get water for you. just get back into bed.”

you followed her instructions and relied on her to keep your balance as you made your way to your shared bed. once you laid down, she pulled the covers over you. taking the cup on the bedside stand, she used her vision to fill it up and handed it to you. you took it gratefully and swiftly drank the whole thing. now your dehydration was gone, but there were plenty of things still plaguing you.

“if i could, i would use my vision to heal you,” kokomi said with a certain strain on her voice, “but my healing only works on wounds, particularly from battle. it wouldn’t work well on something such as a fever.”

“it’s alright,” you smiled as you took her gloved hand, “having you here with me already makes me feel much better.”

“i’m glad i’m doing something to help. now go to sleep, i’ll get some towels to cool you off.”

with kokomi’s hands still in yours, you drifted off into sleep.

you were transported into a war against the raiden shogun’s army. the purple-clothed soldiers surrounded your own and outnumbered your troops greatly. your pyro infused polearm did little damage to the soldiers that charged at you. from the corner of the eye, you could see gorou getting attacked by arrows coming from all directions. you heard the pained shouts of your fallen comrades. the red in their uniform spreading all throughout. for what felt like hours, you attacked soldier after soldier with no moment to even catch your breath.

but suddenly the fighting paused when everyone saw the blinding white light. finally, your divine priestess was here. you felt a spark of hope that her special move would turn the tables on the shogun’s army. but you watched as an electro-charged arrow flew through the air kokomi straight in the chest striking her right in her heart. kokomi didn’t have a chance to heal anyone as she staggered backwards. you let out a strangled yell as you rushed to where kokomi was. her limp body convulsing with electro fell into your arms. you begged for her to wake up, ignoring the electric shocks from the contact. you looked into her dulled eyes one last time as the shouts of warriors overwhelmed you.

you woke up in a cold sweat. slightly out of breath, you looked beside you to see kokomi sleeping peacefully with a book laid resting on her lap. her hand was still enclasped in yours. you let out a long sigh; so it really was just a dream.

however, the horrors of the contents made you shudder. the fight against the shogun army would be in a few days and you knew that kokomi was spending sleepless nights coming up with plans to fight against kujou sara and her army. although, if you didn’t recover from this fever, it would mean you wouldn’t be able to aid your comrades in battle.

your restlessness must have woken kokomi, because you watched her bright eyes slowly open and focus on you.

“my dear, how are you feeling?” she asked as she took off the towel to feel your forehead again.

“a bit better, although i’m having some fever dreams,” you admitted, “i’m sorry if i woke you up.”

kokomi shook her head as she reapplied hydro to the towel, “no worries. i’m just glad that you’re feeling better. now go back to sleep, i’ll be here for you.”

you felt more than grateful to have someone like kokomi with you. kokomi, the divine priestess of watatsumi island, was caring for you who had a simple fever. no matter how big or small the issue was, she was always there for you. you hoped that someday you would be able to repay her fully. but that would be later. the best way to repay her now would be to recover as quickly as possible and help her with strategizing.

kokomi planted a gentle kiss to your forehead before placing the soothing, cool towel back on. as you settled into bed again, you watched her open her book again to continue reading. you squeezed her hand as your way of saying thanks and she gave you a smile in return.

“sleep well, my dear.”

this time when you fell asleep, you no longer had nightmares, but dreamt of watching the starry night sky with the one you loved.

[play-exy-be-sexy]

Here’s a reminder to drink water!!

Because:

Neil does not drink enough water.

At first thought you would think he drank plenty as an athlete.

But no. He doesn’t.

Think about it tho-

On the run you know he didn’t drink 8 glasses a day.

They probably didn’t even have access to water at some points.

But he was taught to keep going. Survive survive survive.

And habits are hard to break.

So when he comes to the foxes everyone is amazed.

“Have you seen Neil drink any water today?”

“No, I don’t think I did yesterday either.”

And sometimes it does come back to bite him in the ass.

His muscles will get sore.

Or he will get a headache.

Usually that’s when Andrew intervenes.

He just will keep refilling Neil’s glass.

“Drew, I’ve drank four glasses in the last hour.”

“Shut up, and drink.”

Needless to say Neil drinks.

Sometimes Kevin or Dan will get after him about it.

But it usually goes through one ear and out the other.

Kevin will yell at him about how it’s ruining his chances of going pro.

And Neils just like, “Kevin, I’ve gone five days without water before. I think I’m fine if I haven’t had a glass of water in the last two hours.”

*glare from Andrew from across the room*

*Neil sighs and stands up to get his water bottle*

*kevin huffs and leaves the room cause he’s tired of their bs*

Sometimes at parties they will make Neil chug water instead of alcohol.

Cause he’s not going to pass down a challenge.

But also when an opportunity presents itself you can’t let go of it.

Thanks, Renee! You genius.

Or if they are playing never have I ever or one of those drinking games, he’ll take water shots

Especially since Neil isn’t someone who always likes to drink.

Most of the time it doesn’t effect him tho!

He just keeps going like he’s completely healthy and hydrated.

It takes the team a while to catch on.

Like “oh yeah, Neil hasn’t had a sip of water in two days! Huh, we should probably do something about that!”

It’s quite confusing.

He also is super bad at remembering to drink during games or breaks.

Like during practice you know?

And they take water breaks?

Yeah, he doesn’t.

A lot of times he forgets his bottle.

Him and Andrew start sharing one his third year cause Andrews tired of worrying about it.

Anyway as Neil starts adjusting more to being an athlete his hydration habits get better.

But it takes a lot of headaches

From the actual dehydration

But also from the team yelling at him to drink water.

And glares from Andrew.

And stern talks from Abby and Wymack.

But it sinks in eventually.

And he begins to remember to bring his water bottle to class and to drink water continuously throughout the day and practices!

Anyway besties, as summer begins remember to drink your water! Especially this summer! It’s already so hot and we don’t want y’all to get sick hah. (This was pointless but just go with it)

[m-notes]

Moving to Norway solely for the gut feeling reason? Is that what people do?

Well, I'm not sure, because ever since I've done that I am still the only person I know who had no 'real' reason to move countries. And I'm finally ready to share my experience.

[December 2013: my (then) boyfriend offers me to visit Norway upcoming year. He's super excited, I couldn't care less. In fact, I barely know anything about Norway. I just know the mountains must be amazing. And the language must be a bit sweeter to my ear than Danish. But yes, of course I'd like to come!]

[End of June, 2014: my very first visit to Norway is about to happen. How do I feel? A tad excited as I know I'll see a lot of beautiful landscapes, & that girl is really into nature. Did I do any decent research? Zero. I still know about Norway as much as I knew on the day I was offered to travel there.]

[July 3rd, 2014: We land in Bergen closer to midnight. We're met by a wonderful phenomenon called Noctilucent clouds. One truly magical thing to notice in the sky. One fantastic way to start this journey.]

The trip actually sucked. Big time. Yes, I got to see one of the most beautiful cities of Norway -- Bergen & some charming rural places too. I hiked in the mountains, saw a glacier, drank glacial water, played with snow while walking in +30°C heat for the first time in my life. There were plenty of other experiences that were for the first time in my life which were fantastic, but I refuse to leave out the fact that the trip obviously sucked. My (then) boyfriend wasn't really into small things when it comes to traveling, it was barely possible to get him to walk around in Bergen (he's not into any sort of cityscape), nor I remember ever tasting anything special or visiting a single museum. 'Tight budget?' one may ask, but no. Actually, there was another first-time experience -- I returned home with lots and lots of money which was saved up to be used during travelling in Norway. Imagine returning from Norway with lots of money!? If you've ever been to Norway as a tourist, you know it's a challenge. Well, whatever happened, happened. I was a 17-year-old with no bossy qualities, in addition to that, I didn't initiate that trip, neither I was given any responsibility.

It was never meant to go my way. Which is fine. Why?

Because Norway still managed to take my breath away so hard, I barely spoke throughout the trip. I remember being constantly asked if I didn't like it here. Well, maybe my face expression was saying something like 'Your organisation skills suck out all the joy off the trip', but my heart was telling me 'Girl, it's your home'.

Don't get me wrong, I know what being impressed means. I have been impressed by places before. Actually, a couple of weeks before that trip I was travelling to Saint Petersburg for the first time too. And boy was I impressed at every corner! But did I feel anything like what I'm trying to describe right now? Not remotely.

I remember really well the moment when I ended up on Festplassen in Bergen for the first time not knowing a thing about this town, country, society, I told myself 'Ok, I have to finish high school & I'm moving here no matter what'. Yes, that's how the decision came to me. In the beginning of my first visit. Something just clicked inside me & I knew I belonged here before I even got to experience being here.

Two years later, in May 2016, I finished high school. I didn't enroll the university in Norway because I was confused about my wishes. So I had enough flexibility in order to choose the date. But I couldn't wait.

After finishing high school, I started working in order to make some money for a good start in Norway (spoiler: it was barely enough, but I didn't earn much either). In addition, I finally started learning Norwegian language.

There weren't many language learning resources in Norwegian available at the time. I'm grateful to those two YouTubers I'd found who were a great addition to Norwegian course on Duolingo. I really wanted to attend some live classes, but nothing was available in Riga back then.

I was working at harder pace than Duolingo was built for. I wrote down absolutely every sentence from each lesson, no matter how many times it was repeated. I turned new words into flash cards. I wrote down everything from "tips" section. I did a colossal amount of work, but it all paid off. Once I moved, I wasn't struggling with the language around me at all. Yes, I wasn't really able to hold a conversation really well, but I was able to speak.

I didn't have any problems reading signs, stuff at stores and many other things. My grammar sucked, but I managed to speak Norwegian during serious occasions (like job interviews, police station or tax office) & got a lot of encouraging compliments, especially when people found out it was my first month of living in Norway. So here's an advice:

Milk your Duolingo course dry. Especially if it's your main language learning resource. It's not perfect for it, but writing things down is the key.

It was around September when I started looking for a place to live. I managed to find a room in a student collective & finally set the date.

[November 9th, 2016. A very snowy day in Riga. A blizzard, actually. I'm spending a pretending-to-be-regular morning with my family & we drive to the airport. A sentimental goodbye, as it's supposed to be. Hopping on the plane and...]

Peace. Yes, peace. All the worries were gone. All the sadness was washed away. It felt like I reached zen once I had reached the sky.

Funny enough, I don't remember thinking about anything particular during those almost 2 hours on the plane. I didn't stress about the fact that I'm literally flying into nowhere. I didn't think about anything regarding the fact that my life is drastically changing right now. Didn't think about the past either. Which was weird, because I usually come up with great thoughts about things that bother me when I'm on a plane. But that time it was just blank. Weird.

Weird, but right at the same time. It made sense. I was about to start my life again at age 19. All alone, on my own. In a completely new place where nobody knew me. I was going to be reborn. Of course my mind was blank. I don't remember thinking any deep thoughts when I was coming to this world for the first time either. It really made all the sense in this world.

But I did feel something when I was flying above Bergen. First of all, it's crazy breathtaking to fly above all these mountains. Secondly, it was an interesting contrast between snowy Riga and sunny Bergen. And Bergen is not known for being sunny, trust me.

Once I was off the plane, I had a pinch of nostalgia mixed with stress. I was thinking about how wonderful it is to be at Bergen Airport again, looking forward to spending time in this town the way I want it, getting to know it at my own slow pace. At the same time I realised I was carrying a heavy backpack with two huge suitcases which contained all my life I was willing to bring with me at the time. Sounds simple: two suitcases & one backpack. Doesn't feel exactly simple when you need to carry it around all by yourself. But I managed, I had no choice but to manage.

It was stupid-challenging to grab a cab. First of all, I went to the wrong side of the cab zone, then dragged my belongings back to the correct side. After that, the cab driver who was willing to drive me, realised he couldn't possibly fit all my stuff into his trunk when one of the suitcases was already inside. Then I finally found the guy -- on the correct side of the road with a trunk able to fit everything I had brought with me. We drove out.

He was a middle-aged Norwegian man, very kind and as chatty as you'd decide it to be. Really knew what he was doing. Told me about the quickest route to Bergen city center (where I was headed to) which I should request every time I take a cab, because I can end up getting driven some long, expensive distances. Ah yes, he also missed a turn while we were laughing at something. He apologised, returned back on the route, drove a bit longer, then reset the taxi meter. It still remains my cheapest official cab ride in Norway.

We got to the spot. The cab driver unloaded my stuff and helped me to carry it to the door. He left. I rung the doorbell. No one answered. I kept ringing. I became stressed, I felt like I got scammed or something. The door was finally opened by one of the girls living there. She was home alone and wasn't expecting anyone. My landlord was late. As I would find out later, that's something to be expected, she was not the most reliable one.

I got in. I already knew where the room with a huge common freezer was, so I went to unload all the frozen food my mom had stashed me up with. Then I went to the common living room/kitchen (in Norway it's normally built without any wall separating them), spent an eternity unloading the rest of my food. The landlord showed up at last. I signed the contract, was shown around a bit more, got my key. Finally saw my room. Carried my partially unloaded suitcases there. It was on the top floor and the staircase was crazy. I still have PTSD from those stairs.

By that time, the other girl who was kindly asked by our landlord to sell me her old bed (as she was getting a new one), also showed up. Some of the other girls showed up too. They helped us to get the bed into my room then we carried up the newly-arrived bed. It was a fun experience to introduce myself to the very first new people in my new life during some intensive physical activity I'm not really good at. I went to my room, unpacked all my stuff. Set it all up.

The room was tiny. It was one of the cheapest rooms there (which was greatly appreciated by my tight budget), had a basic IKEA wardrobe and now also had a basic IKEA single bed. My two suitcases fit in perfectly. There was nothing else in the room. The windowsill of the only window in the room was wide enough to be my table.

After I got done setting up my room & texted back everyone I needed to text back to, I opened a pack of instant noodles which I for some reason still brought to the room instead of leaving them in the kitchen. I didn't prepare them properly. I didn't feel like leaving the room to boil some water. I had known all my life I was a bit of a shy person. But at that moment I felt like I was the most shy person on this planet. I didn't feel like going out and socialise with the girls. I crushed the noodles in the pack, mixed them with the soup base spice & ate them like any other snack. It was my dinner, dry and salty as hell. It was my first food ever since that breakfast at home in Riga. Then I went to shower which was conveniently right next door, washed off the whole day and, as it seemed at the moment, the whole past life. I went to bed. My new life was about to start in eight hours.

The next days were filled with being busy visiting police station, getting a new SIM-card & running around looking for a job and other errands. I also applied for a Norwegian course which was amazing and started somewhere in the end of November. I really do believe applying for a language course in the new country as soon as you move is one of the best things you can do to get yourself going. I also had to do a great deal of work on my head because I really had to push myself out of the room to prepare some food or tea. Yes, it was actually tea which I'm used to drinking in crazy amounts, that pushed me out of my room a few times per day & got me to socialize more with people I lived together with. They were nice and kind, but I had some sort of barrier that I couldn't explain back then & I cannot explain even now. It took some time.

So this is how my new life started. An unenthusiastic trip made me end up in a tiny room with a single bed, a wardrobe, two suitcases and a windowsill which acted as a table. A completely fresh start in a place that I barely knew, but which felt more like home than my actual home.

I decided to write this story now, 5 years later because I still keep getting asked about my reasons for moving to Norway. It fascinates people when they find out I didn't have a basic motivation to do that, such as earning more money or getting certain education. I understand why people keep asking, I understand why people sometimes need to build up their courage to ask. Lots of them secretly or openly dream to do something similar. Now it's here. And now it's going to get linked to everyone who asks.

Now you know that it's possible to come up with this crazy idea to move somewhere without any practical knowledge or large experience with that place. That this odd feeling which leads you to such a drastic decision, exists. The little 'click' inside your heart that lets you know instantly that you belong in that place. The feeling like you've been on a long journey your whole life ever since you were born & you finally arrived home.

P.S. I have to say I've been through a lot of drama during my time in Norway. It had started turning into a Netflix show material at some point. For those who know me it may sound weird, because I'm the most neutral and calm person one can find. Yet I have attracted a lot of chaos somehow. Sometimes I cannot believe that already within first 6 months I couldn't walk in town without meeting someone I knew at least 3x per week. And I'm not the most social person either. It's just that life happens really fast. I was convinced I'd be a loner for at least a year. But here we are. Lots of great stuff, lots of drama. Lots of life.

Grateful to myself for not being afraid, following my gut & making this happen.

[bungeenomin]

domestic dom kun

oh boy, here we go

there's no doubt kun is definitely a dom in bed, but kun's natural dominating instincts don't falter in every day life

kun has some rules for his significant other in every day life, nothing too unorthodox or severe, just little rules to make sure that his baby is happy and healthy

kun checks every day that you've eaten three meals and drank enough water

skipped a meal? he'll take you to your favourite restaurant straight away

not drank enough water? kun won't rest until he watches you drink a bottle

kun always scolds you for waiting up for him, but he hasn't a mean bone in his body. he'll softly tell you while placing soft kisses all over your face that your sleep is really important and that there's no need to wait for him to come home from the studio with his unpredictable schedule

nothing makes kun happier than you getting your eight hours sleep

PET NAMES, PET NAMES, PET NAMES

anytime you leave the house together kun always has his hand on you, be it your back, you hand, your thigh, he's always making some form of contact

crossing the road? think again if you think he won't be holding your hand every time

honestly, kun gets really worried when you're in crowds

kun knows that fans can get, well, crazy. he also knows that there are plenty of sour fans that wish they could be in your position, so he always holds you as close to his chest as possible in these situations, doing everything in his power to protect you

one time he completely snapped at the fans that were dragging and pulling out of you in the airport, shocking both the fans and you. he followed the outburst with a heated bubble update later that night telling fans that respect goes a long way, that he's totally in love with you and nothing will change that

talking about love, kun will tell you he loves you as many times as he can a day

every single phone call with kun ends with i love you. he doesn't care who's around him when he says it, he has no shame in loving you

honestly, kun says i love you more times a day than could count, and every time he says it, he wholeheartedly means it

loving you is his favourite past time (along with making love with you)

kun has a very big conscience, always feeling terrible for leaving before you wake in the mornings, and arriving home in the middle of the night. he just wants to be there for you all the time, but he knows you'll never ever blame him for working hard at what he's passionate about

when kun isn't home, the dom in him jumps out. he'll text you all throughout the day, making sure you're okay, eating, drinking water, got enough sleep, saw the breakfast he cooked you

even on his very short breaks, he'll call you just to hear your voice and make sure you're okay

kun is the type of boyfriend that would rather be freezing cold and let you wear his jacket than see you cold

honestly, kun would go to the ends of the earth and back for you

if you've had a long day, he'll run you a bath, cook you a nice dinner and give you a calming massage, letting you rant all you want about your day

if you end up with kun, you're extremely lucky. he'll look after you so well and treat you like royalty

no.1 dom in the bedroom and every day life :)

[americxn]

Showering with the Evans

TATE LANGDON

- It was very difficult to shower alone since you and Tate had gotten together and he had the habit of just appearing behind you as you showered, clothes nowhere to be seen. - He would laugh at the way it would terrify you, enjoying your shriek of horror as he appeared in the hot water with you. - Eventually, you had gotten used to it and expected to only get five minutes or less alone time in the shower. - When Tate inevitably joined you, he would immediately begin messing with the temperature of the water, making it as hot as you could stand without it being physically painful. Despite your complaints, you would quickly get used to the close to scalding temperature of the water, relenting and allowing Tate to shampoo and condition your hair, something that he thoroughly enjoyed doing. - Aside from this, you didn’t really wash each other, but just sort of washed together, passing one another various soaps and sponges, enjoying each other’s company as the bathroom got so steamy that it would become difficult to make out anything in the room beyond the shower. - Showering together was one of the only reprieves from the busyness of the rest of the house, none of the other ghosts that inhabited it daring to interrupt your sacred time together.

KIT WALKER

- You and Kit absolutely adored showering together and, because he worked later than you, you always waited for him to come home before getting the water running so that it was heated to perfection by the time you had greeted him and dragged him to the bathroom. - Once the both you were submerged in the warm water, you would simply hold each other and discuss your days, listening to one another rant or stress about whatever had happened during their day at work. - And then you would wash each other. - Kit would insist that he make you all clean before you did the same with him, taking his time to lather your hair in shampoo and massage it thoroughly onto your scalp. Then he was apply a generous amount of conditioner to your hair, ensuring to not get any near your eyes, before allowing you to start on his hair.  - Kit would tip his hair back and allow you to use his favourite shampoo, groaning when you would dig your fingertips into his scalp, often more focused on giving him a deep scalp massage after a long day than actually working the shampoo into his soft hair. - You would playfully tease him as your ministrations coaxed goosebumps onto his skin before ordering him to turn to you so that you could shield his eyes whilst tipping his hair under the stream of warm water to rinse away any remaining product. - Finally, you would rinse out your conditioner, letting Kit run his fingers through it and marvel at the silkiness of your wet hair before setting about thoroughly cleaning each other’s bodies. - More often than not, this would lead to some kind of sex, a strange urge coming over Kit to take care of you the best he could, both in cleaning you and in pleasing you.  - You would emerge from the bathroom an hour after entering, the pads of your fingers all wrinkled from the water and the steam clinging to your naked bodies as you dried each other off. - This was usually a daily occurrence, and one that you and Kit enjoyed greatly and valued, both of you indulging in the time that you got to take care of each other and wash away any stresses from the day. -  Your water bill was often extremely high. 

KYLE SPENCER (post-death)

- Kyle hated showers to begin with. He hated that it took his thick hair awhile to dry afterwards, he hated how steamy the bathroom got, grumbling when he saw the condensation on the mirror and windows and he absolutely despised the shampoo and conditioner, terrified that it would get in his eyes. - He outright refused to shower without you but you didn’t mind at all and after a few weeks, Kyle began to enjoy showering too.  - Because he fidgeted and moved around so much, you had resorted to getting him to sit down on the floor of the shower so that you could wash his hair without worrying about getting any product in his eyes.  - And so, three or four times a week, you would both get into the shower, ensuring that the water was neither too hot nor too cold before washing down Kyle’s body. He liked to do the same with you, watching intently as you turned and lifted up your arms to allow him to clean everywhere.  - Then you would get Kyle to sit on the wet floor and kneel behind him, lathering his hair with shampoo, occasionally pausing to press a kiss to the back of his neck or temple when he started to whine and shift.  - You would have to be quick about it though as Kyle would only sit still for so long and would eventually turn himself round to face you, whether you had finished washing his hair or not, and pull your body to his, lifting your legs so that you were straddling him and pulling you into his lap. - “Mmm, your hair smells so good.” You would murmur in an attempt to get him to warm up to the various soaps and scents that you used on his hair. He would simply shrug and squeeze you tighter to him, enjoying the sensation of the warm water falling on his bare shoulders and of your warm skin pressed against his. - Eventually, you would pull yourself off him and turn of the water, hurrying to wrap him up in towels and dry him off before he got too cold. - Showering was one of the main times where Kyle relied completely on you. But there were many other times when it was the other way around, when Kyle brushed your hair and made sure you ate and drank plenty of water throughout the day and just generally took care of you. Because of this, you always looked forward to being able to pamper him in the shower, even if it took awhile to get Kyle to enjoy it too.

JIMMY DARLING

- Due to the fact that there was a shared shower block on camp, you and Jimmy often preferred to shower together in the interest of saving water. - You usually opted to shower later at night, when the rest of the camp had retired to bed, often after a show so that you could fully wash off your makeup and body paint. - A lot of the time, you just washed with each other, your showers usually kept brief because of the limited water supply that the camp shared, the two of you talking and laughing quietly so as to not wake up any of the others. - Your showers were sometimes cut even shorter when the hot water ran out and when this happened, you and Jimmy would fight to shove the other under the freezing jet of water, shrieking and yelping when the water splashed down on you, soaking into your hair and pouring in freezing torrents down your exposed back. - And then there was the run that you had to make between the shower block and the warmth of your caravan that lay across the other side of the camp. - Because you usually went straight from the tent to the showers, the only clothes you had were your costumes that were just a pain to change back into and so you would resort to running through the camp wrapped in nothing but your towels.  - Sometimes, you would dare each other to abandon even your towels and streak through the camp, the cool night air cold on your still wet skin as you chased after each other, trying your best to stay quiet as to not rouse any of your friends and scar them with the sight of the both of you running naked, looking half-wild as you thundered with bare feet across the camp.

JAMES MARCH

- James often preferred quick showers, not really into taking the time to take care of himself. But when you joined him, often sneaking into the shower behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist, your chest pressing into his back, he would melt under the warm water, turning to hold you. - You would speak in soft tones to one another as you washed, James always insisting that he wanted to rinse the shampoo and conditioner from your scalp, claiming that he enjoyed the feel of your wet strands of hair running through his fingers. - He insisted that he wanted to wash his own hair however, and so you stepped out of the stream of water briefly to allow him space to do so, James pulling you back into the warmth as soon as he finished.  - But what he did love, was when we you used your exfoliating brush on his shoulders. His obsession with this had started when you first moved into his room at the hotel and he saw you using it the first time. And so, every time you showered you would lather James’ upper back with your most expensive body wash (usually a gift from James) and take your time gently exfoliating his shoulders, enjoying the view as the muscles in his back shifted in response to your careful circling with the rough sponge on his skin. - You didn’t always shower together as you preferred to shower in the morning, and James in the evening, but when you did, the both of you valued it greatly. It was like a sacred time to you, when the horrors of the hotel became redundant and it was just the two of you, enjoying each other’s presence and taking care of one another.

KAI ANDERSON

- The only time you and Kai really showered together was after sex because, let’s be real, there’s no way that man showers of his own accord more than once a week. - It was Kai’s form of aftercare as he tended to be quite rough in bed and enjoyed taking the time to clean you up and relax with you. - Often, Kai would lead you to your en-suite bathroom on wobbling legs, gently hoisting you up and setting you on the cold surface of the countertop beside the sink whilst he got the hot water running, always taking care to set it to the perfect temperature. - This is when Kai’s more gentle side came out the most, when he took your hand and led you into the shower, holding you against him to wait for the trembling in your legs to subside before rinsing away the sticky wetness between your thighs thoroughly. - Then he would wash your hair and body, all the while allowing you to lean all of your weight on him so that you could fully relax, often emerging from the shower half asleep. - Kai would lead you from the shower, a sleepy, satisfied smile on your face as he wrapped you in a soft towel and lay you on the bed, not caring about the water he dripped onto the carpet as he left you on the bed and went back into the shower, quickly washing himself (probably with 3 in 1 shampoo) and returning to you to drying you off gently and put you into bed.

[someonestolemyshoes]

Summer Wine

This is my gift fic for the Levihan University servers Christmas in July event! My giftee was the wonderful _myunet on twitter and instagram - I went with the summer holidays theme, and we all know I’m a sucker for childhood friends, so... I hope you enjoy :) 

**

“This is a stupid idea.”

Levi trailed helplessly behind Hange as she shimmied along the crack of an alley between two barns, a narrow shortcut from the main yard to the back field that kept them out of view of the main house. She held a bottle of wine in one hand, cool from the fridge, condensation beading as the chill glass met the stuffy summer heat. It was getting late, the ghost of a moon and a smattering of stars decorating a purple sky overhead, while the horizon bled deep pink where the sun dipped below the skyline.

The set of the sun did little to temper the heat. The air was muggy and stagnant, heavy on his skin as Levi broke out at the end of the alleyway and trotted to catch up with Hange's longer strides. She twisted quickly to look at him, walking backwards past the lamb shed to shoot him a wicked smile, wiggling the bottle.

"It'll be fun!" She said brightly. "And it's not stupid if it's fun."

She turned before he had time to argue, dancing on her toes to keep her footing as they crossed onto the field. The grass had been clipped short and left to dry in the sun, and in the still, quiet night the crunch of it underfoot was deafening. Hange hummed absently as she picked her way over to the haystack, swinging the bottle at her side.

They were out of sight of the house, here, but Levi still felt a little uneasy. Hange's parents weren't strict, but this might just push the boundaries of their tolerance—clambering around the farm yard in the growing dark was bad enough, nevermind doing it with a belly full of wine they were both too young and too dumb to drink. But the day had been unbearably hot, and the wine was cool, and Hange's summer holiday had been filled with too much work, early mornings and busy days and not enough time to relax and enjoy a few weeks of academic freedom, and she'd watched one too many movies with underage drinking and maybe she'd felt envious, maybe she'd felt inspired. She'd texted Levi asking if he wanted to do something fun, and Levi had agreed without asking too many questions, and now here they are.

Hange was toeing her shoes off at the base of the silage stack. 'So we don't put holes in the plastic,' she'd told him, years and years ago, when they were almost too small to clamber up even one bale. She hoisted herself up with ease now, and Levi did the same, following her path up each layer of round, wrapped bales. The plastic stuck to the soles of Hange's bare feet ahead of him, tacking and squeaking as she climbed. The sun had shifted from the field hours ago, but the black wrapping was still warm beneath his palms, and the hay smell was overpowering, woody and still fresh. It will change, as the year goes on and the cut grass ferments into something sweeter, richer, more earthy, but the bales were freshly gathered, the summer still young.

Hange plopped down right in the middle of the top of the pile, sinking into the cleft between two bales. She wriggled to adjust until she was comfortable, dipped in a shallow V with her back against one bale and her legs against the other. She patted the space beside her, grinning, and Levi settled into it.

The air shifted some, this high up. The breeze was light and bare, but it felt refreshing after the oppressive stillness they'd endured all day. Hange unscrewed the lid from the bottle and took a tentative sniff. She winced.

"Smells awful," she said. And then she took a sip.

Hange's face screwed up the moment the drink hit her tongue, eyes squeezing shut and lips pursing as she struggled to swallow it. She shook her head, shuddering, and held out the bottle. "Your turn."

Levi eyed it warily. Hange nudged it against his chest. "C'mon, it's not so bad."

Levi raised a brow at her. "You look like you drank piss."

"It's fine," she said, and to prove her point she took another, bigger sip. She stifled her reaction, but Levi could see the way her throat bobbed reflexively, swallowing air, and the way her eyes watered behind her glasses. Levi rolled his eyes at her.

"Convincing," he said. Hange nudged him with the bottle again, and again, and again, until he grabbed it, if only to stop her incessant poking.

"I think this counts as peer pressure," Levi said, taking the bottle from her grip. Hange grinned widely.

"Absolutely. Drink."

Levi didn't dare smell it. He eyed the pale liquid warily for a moment, then sucked in a breath and pulled the bottle to his lips, tipping it back.

Hange was right. It wasn't bad. It was fucking disgusting. The drink was cold and flat, but it fizzed strangely on his tongue and burned as it slid down his throat, settling hot and uneasy in his gut. The taste lingered unpleasantly, tart and acidic. His expression soured uncontrollably, and beside him, Hange let out a raucous laugh.

"Tastes like drinking piss," Levi said.

"It's vile," Hange agreed. Still, she took the bottle from him, and drank another mouthful down. "God, how does mum like this?"

Levi shrugged his shoulders. The strangest thing was, now that the burn had settled, his stomach felt pleasantly warm. The bitter taste had abated into something mild, sweeter and a little fruity on his tongue. He took the bottle from Hange and drank again.

Hange settled back against the bale and rubbed her hands over her face, pushing her glasses out of the way to grind her knuckles into her eyes. She looked worn, tired. Her cheeks and nose were pink and raw from exposure to the sun, and her exhaustion had bruised her eyes, leaving the skin puffy and purple.

She sighed heavily. "This summer sucks."

Levi lowered the bottle, but said nothing. He had grown used to spending almost every waking second of the summer holidays with Hange—when they were small, too small to play without supervision, Hange had passed the summer days with Levi and his mother while her family worked the farm, and then when they were older, free to exore, they'd filled their time with play on the farm, Levi dutifully trailing Hange wherever she went.

Hange had always been a lively, extroverted kid, a stark contrast to Levi's quiet, insular nature, and at times he had found her boundless energy overwhelming. Too touchy, too loud. Too much. But Hange never minded that he rarely spoke, that he shied away from people, quiet and brooding to mask his discomfort, and with time, Levi had grown used to her. They fell into an easy routine with each new summer, finding new ways to fill their time—but this year was the first since Hange's brother had moved away, and they were one hand short on the farm. Hange had helped in the past, odd jobs here and there throughout the year, but this summer was intensive, task after task from dawn until dusk, with barely a moment to breathe. Levi had hardly seen her for the last three weeks, and likely wouldn't see much of her at all until school started up again. It was weird, too quiet and too still without her.

She let out a frustrated sound and plucked the bottle from his hand, gulping from it, this time. She looked ridiculous, puckering her lips when she lowered the bottle. "I want a day off. We haven't had time to do anything."

"We're doing something now," Levi said. Hange laughed, low in her throat, and raised the bottle as though to taste his word, before she drank again. With the moon high and full, Levi could see the colour in her face, flushed pink from the alcohol, and her eyes were growing glasses behind her lenses. He wondered if she was feeling the drink as much as he was—his head was light, a little woozy, but his limbs felt weighty and graceless, fingers fumbling to take the bottle back from Hange, wrapping clumsily over her hand as he did, and has her skin always been this soft? Her hand felt impossibly smooth beneath his fingertips, and when she laughed again, her voice rang brighter than usual, chiming in his ears. The effect was strangely dizzying.

"We are," she said, after a time. "We are doing something now. It's nice. I've missed it—I've missed you."

Levi hummed in acknowledgement. Things like this, they didn't come easy to him; words of affection fell from Hange's lips so often, without pause or debate, as though it was the simplest thing in the world, while Levi stuttered and stumbled in his own head for too long before inevitably saying nothing. He had missed Hange, had felt a little lost without her, bored and restless at home. Saying as much was hard. Levi held out the bottle for her instead, and watched as she tipped her head back to drink it.  

The alcohol made him feel weightless and floaty, absent, strange—so strange, but it wasn't a bad feeling. He watched the way Hange's lips pressed plump against the mouth of the bottle, the way strands of her hair had fallen from her messy ponytail, and curled loosely against her neck. An unfamiliar heat spread in his chest, his belly, his cheeks. He looked quickly away.

The bottle was a little over half empty when Hange set it to one side, reclining back against the curve of the bale and settling her hands on her stomach, staring up at the starry sky. They had so much space, up here, plenty of room to spread out, but Hange had moved until they were so close they were touching, pressed together at shoulder and hip and knee. Levi wasn't one for so much physical contact, but the wine made him warm and pleasantly heavy, and there was something nice about the way Hange felt against his side—comfortable, almost, but that isn't quite right, because comfortable would imply he was relaxed, and Levi didn't feel relaxed at all.

Touching Hange wasn't new to him. She was the most tactile person he knew, only content with her arm linked through his, her feet in his lap, her weight leaning on his side, some point of connection between them. She had been the same for as long as Levi could recall, and he had grown used to it. Sometimes, he even liked it.

But it never made him feel quite like he did now; restless, itching to press impossibly closer, to feel impossibly more.

"We could've done so much more though," Hange said. "We could've gone to the cinema—"

"—I already told you, I'm not watching the Shrek anniversary screening with you."

Hange dutifully ignore him. "Or the beach! We could've gone swimming in the sea, maybe, and—ooh, we could have had a 99, I haven't had one in ages."

"You'd shit your pants, stupid. You're lactose intolerant."

Again, Hange waved him off flippantly. "Ice cream is worth it. And maybe we could've camped some—remember when we used to camp in the front field?"

Levi hummed. "Never got any sleep. Too much sugar. Too many bugs."

Hange chuckled at his side.

"It was fun. Although, I think we might be a little too big for the tent now. It'd be a squeeze."

Levi thought about how close they were now, plastered to each other's sides as they stared up at the stars. It might not be so bad, cosy in the canvas of Hange's battered old tent, with a blanket to share and the leftover wine instead of fizzy drinks.

He had intended on keeping that thought quiet, store it somewhere private, but the wine loosed his tongue, and before he could think to stop himself, he said, "it would be nice."

Hange let out a long, rising hum beside him. "Yeah? Maybe I'll look for the tent tomorrow. We could tell scary stories like we used to, and you can pretend you're not frightened by the cows walking around in the next field."

Levi scowled up at the sky. "Just like old times," he said flatly. Hange snickered, digging her elbow into his ribs.

"So cute," she teased. "The only time you've ever been cuddly in your whole life, I bet."

"I was cold."

"It was like, twenty degrees."

Levi dug his elbow back at her. "Fuck off."

Hange squirmed at his side, wriggling away from his prodding. She laughed, breathless, and settled only when Levi stopped poking at her, sighing out a long breath.

"Remember when we tried stargazing?"

"Mm. You just made up your own shitty constellations."

"You believed me."

"I was nine, and stupid."

"Now you're sixteen and—" she cut herself off with a high squeal when Levi jabbed her side again, this time with his fingers, digging deep into the soft tissue beneath her ribs. He relented only when Hange begged him to, panting and strained, laughing loud and full.

Levi lay back to look up at the stars again. He could remember, vividly, the way Hange had pointed up at the distant sky, one long finger tracing nonexistent patterns in the stars. She'd had a lisp, then, still adjusting to her braces, words thick and clumsy when she said, 'See those stars there? There's a tail, and ears, and a big head with huuuuge teeth. That's Catticus Rex.'

Levi hadn't seen it. He had squinted with all his might, but the stars were just stars, random, disjointed. No Catticus Rex in sight. Still, he had said, 'yeah. Cool. What else?' And Hange had showed him Ursula ('like The Little Mermaid?' 'No, like a bear'), and The Big Duck, and one she called Jeffrey, and Levi had discerned nothing, but stupidly pretended all the same.

She was doing just the same now, though her arm was much longer, less weedy, muscle rippling under skin as she extended into his field of vision, drawing a shape in the air. Her voice was deeper than it was back then, and smoother. It sunk right into his chest as she spoke.

"That one is…..Hercules. See it?"

He didn't see it. He saw nothing more than flecks in the sky, swimming strangely in his addled vision.

"No."

Hange sighed, and dropped her arm. "Yeah. Me neither. Everything's moving too much."

Levi snorted. Hange talked on, naming constellations they should be able to see, but it's all purple sky and bright specks that blurred in and out of focus as he blinked, lids terribly heavy, and the way they shimmered made him feel a little nauseous. He rolled his head to the side to look at Hange instead, and—oh, she was close. So close, he could see the stars reflected in the dark of her eyes, and the way the wine had flushed her skin pink, the smattering of freckles over her nose. The breeze blew gently, and up this close Levi could see the way each individual hair on her head lifted and ruffled with it. He could see the length of her lashes and the shadows they cast on her cheeks when she blinked, long and slow; he could see the slope of her nose, her lips, caught in a stupid, absent smile as she stared up at the night sky. When did Hange get so pretty? It must have been a gradual development, but the last Levi could recall, she was a gangly pre-teen with stick limbs and a thin, rakish frame. She was still tall and still thin, but there were subtle curves at her hips that balanced out her broad shoulders, and the puppy fat on her face had disappeared, exposing the sharp line of her jaw and high, prominent cheekbones.

The heat in his chest can't be from the alcohol. They set the wine aside a while ago, so neither could he blame it for the restless energy bubbling under his skin, or the way his fingers twitched at his side, the urge to reach out and trace Hange's profile so sudden and his reflexes so sluggish and addled that his hand was already halfway in the air between them before he could think to stop it.

Hange's head lolled sideways to look at him. At some point, Levi must have shifted the impossible distance between them, for when Hange turned, their noses bumped together. Hange's fringe tickled his brow. He tasted the wine on her breath when she sighed out. His must taste the same, blowing hot over her lips, and her lips—

Levi never thought too much about kissing. He'd never had all that much interest, even now, as a teenager, when almost everyone around him seemed so charged, so eager to try all these new things they'd learned and discovered. Kissing sounded unpleasant, wet and messy and weird, and Levi had never once thought about kissing another person as much as he thought about kissing Hange now.

It must be the wine. That's what Levi told himself. The wine making his head a little fuzzy, his thoughts sluggish, bizarre, unfiltered. Hange was his friend, his best friend, and surely most people don't think about kissing their best friend. But his head was empty save for the way Hange's mouth looked, the way her breath felt on his skin.

Hange kissed him first. At least he thought she did—one moment they weren't kissing, and the next they were, and Levi hadn't meant to move but maybe he had anyway, maybe he had closed what little space was left and brushed his lips against hers, so soft, so light, he wondered if maybe he imagined it. He closed his eyes, head spinning, and Hange pressed her forehead clumsily against his own, resting there.

The world around them spun strangely in the darkness, time a fuzzy, frame thing, warping around them as Hange bumped her mouth to Levi's again and again, each time better and longer and more solid than the last.

And then the sky was a pale, watery blue, sunlight peeking over the distant horizon, as birds chirped loudly, screeching the new day. Levi swallowed, but his mouth was disgustingly dry, tongue like cotton behind his teeth. He blinked against the mild pounding in his head and shifted to ease the ache in his back, but something heavy laid over his chest and legs, pinning him.

Hange.

She lay at his side, contorted into the cleft of the bales, with one leg thrown over Levi's thigh and her arm sprawled across his abdomen. She snored softly in his ear.

Memories of the night rushed him; the picture of Hange under the moonlight, the blush of her face and the lilt of her laughter. The soft press of her lips against his. His face burned at the thought and he looked quickly away from her.

Trying not to disturb her, Levi shuffled, reaching to pull his phone out of the pocket of his shorts. 4:59am. He groaned, back seizing from the uncomfortable sleeping position, and Hange’s breath hitched and stuttered as she woke. She groaned, too, and turned to press her face into the bale, away from the glaring daylight.

“Time is it?” she asked, voice hoarse. Levi told her, and she let out a lamenting moan, rolling onto her back and wincing, unfurling her body and stretching her spine. She looked ridiculous, wrinkles on her cheek from the plastic wrapping and red welts on the bridge of her nose where her glasses had dug into the skin. “Shit. Mum might kill me.”

“Probably. You stole her wine and passed out in a field.”

“Can we count this as camping?” Hange said, laughing a little as she scrubbed at her face. Levi shrugged. He sat up, peeling himself away from the plastic and straightening out his wrinkled clothes.

They were quiet as they climbed down from the haystack. Hange hid the half empty bottle in the long grass by the wall, and led the way quietly towards the alleyway. Hange's quiet made him feel a little uneasy. He hadn’t drunk enough to forget what happened, and he doubted Hange had either, and he had hoped—expected, really—that Hange would be the one to bring it up, needle some kind of discussion out of him. He had relied on it. He couldn't mention it, not with his clumsy, crass tongue; he'd mess it up, say something biting, insulting, something that implied he hated it and that—well, that wasn't true at all.

They were almost at the end of the narrow alley when Hange stopped walking. She turned to him with a tired smile, shoulder-leaning the barn and folding her arms loosely over her chest. Levi shuffled his toe into the dry, crusted dirt. It was hard to look at her.

"I had fun," Hange said, after a short pause. Levi nodded. The air between them felt full, oddly charged, and Levi realised with a start that perhaps, for once, Hange was just as lost for words as he was. He cleared his throat.

"It wasn't bad," he said. Hange rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

"I suppose that's the best I'm gonna get, right?"

Levi swallowed. Hange scrutinised him for a time, eyes a little pinched as they scanned over his face. She made him feel terribly exposed, in times like this, when her gaze turned so analytical, picking apart every twitch of his brow or tick of his jaw. He stood, pinned, while she watched him, and then she nodded once, decisive, as though she had come to some conclusion.

She pushed her shoulder off the wall. Levi watched her step closer, her arms dropping to swing at her sides. Her eyes glinted behind her glasses and her face was set, determined, as she stopped with half a foot of space between them.

And then she bent forward, neck craning down to meet him. And she kissed him.

Levi stood frozen. Hange's lips felt dry and chapped, this time, and cooler with the fresh morning air, and there was a stiffness to her, an uncertainty that made her oddly unyielding. It was different to the kisses they'd shared last night; more reserved. Unsure.

She must have noticed Levi's matching posture, spine snapped straight and body held taut in surprise, for she pulled away quickly, straightening up and tilting her head a little to look at him.

"Sorry," she said. "Was that not okay?"

Maybe it shouldn't have been. The night before had been dreamlike, floaty and soft, timeless. He had melted so easily into kissing Hange then, all soft lips and warm breath and the tang of wine on his tongue. A stark contrast to this kiss.

Both made him stomach warm in the strangest way. Both made his heart rattle in his chest.

Both were good.

"It...wasn't bad," he said again. "Nice," he clarified when Hange's questioning gaze searched him once more. Her face broke into a smile, and Levi's cheeks heated.

"Yeah?"

Levi nodded. "Yeah. Your breath smells like arse though."

Hange threw her head back in a laugh that rang down the alleyway. Her eyes were bright when she looked back at him, narrowed by the swell of her cheeks as she smiled, and she leaned forward again. Levi was ready, this time, but Hange didn't kiss him—she opened her mouth wide, and blew hot air right over his nose.

Levi recoiled, and scowled over at her. Hange looked delighted with herself, cackling wickedly and skirting out of his reach when Levi made a grab for her, but the alley was narrow, and Levi was quicker, snagging the front of her shirt in his fist and yanking her back towards him and—

He had intended revenge. Pinching her, poking her, blowing right back because his own breath must smell just as bad, but it was all too easy, with the momentum, to haul her close and kiss her again.

It was incredible, how kissing Hange made him just as dizzy as the wine did.

She withdrew after a few lingering pecks, eyes bright and cheeks pleasantly flushed. "I really have to go."

Levi hummed. Hange seemed hesitant to leave, rocking from heel to toe and chewing on her lip, but then a noise sounded from the main house, the creak of hinges and the thud of a door closing, and she cursed quietly, grimacing.

"Wish me luck," she mumbled under her breath, and then, with one last quick wave, she took off towards the house. Levi watched until she rounded the corner before he skirted the front of the barn and ducked out of the yard, following the road for home.

He rubbed his fingers absently over his lips as he walked, and his cheeks pulled into a small, private smile.

The holidays so far had been boring, without Hange. Lonely. But, he thought, with the memory of Hange's kisses fresh in his mind, this summer didn't suck too badly after all.

[mrwinterr]

The Devil Always Works Harder

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Female Reader

Summary: Your husband can’t make it back in time for your wedding anniversary. The town’s sheriff takes notice and doesn’t plan to let you celebrate alone.

Warnings: Adult themes 18+ | Smut (unprotected & non/dub-con sex, vaginal penetration & fingering, belly bulge, breeding kink). Infidelity. Corruption. Language. Manipulation. Sexual assault. Mentions of alcohol consumption & misuse of drugs (date rape drug).

Disclaimer: The Devil All The Time (2020) film spoiler-free! Please be careful if you’re out in public and NEVER leave your drink unattended! I’d rather go thirsty than accept a drink from someone I’d just met, seemingly sealed in a bottle or not.

A/N: I’m not sure when date rape drugs became a thing, but for the sake of this fic, let’s just forget about specifics in the drug timelines.

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes quickly turned into an hour, and already you’d drank at least two glasses of water, ate a small basket of bread that was offered, the second growing stale in front of you, and you even made a trip to the restroom, but still there was no sign of your husband in the dimly lit restaurant.

Tonight, was your third wedding anniversary but it felt longer than that. You and your husband were high school sweethearts, so there’d been plenty of anniversaries throughout the years, and the love never faltered. The pair of you were very understanding and caring of each other. He was really the one.

He’d been away for at least four days now on a business trip, and while you were used to him traveling for work, tonight was different. It was your wedding anniversary, and he was set to return to town in time to celebrate another milestone of the relationship. It’s not like there was much to be excited about when hitting the streets of Knockemstiff, but tonight you were given a reason to look extra nice and just enjoy an evening out with your husband, maybe even cap it off lovingly in bed. Who knows? Maybe tonight would even be the night you two start trying for a family.

You do your best to sit there trying to not look so dejected as you stare at the condensation budding on the outsides of your glass of water, but you’d been occupying this table for a long time now while the other occupants enjoyed their dinner around you. They just had to have noticed you’d been stood up by now. The eyes felt heavy on you. It’s not until the waiter tending to you the whole night breaks the spell.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Sitting up straight you listen to what he has to say; perhaps if you needed yet another refill or wanted to go ahead and place an order, but it wasn’t any of those. Instead, he informs you that they’d received a phone call a few minutes ago from your husband, claiming he was extremely sorry for not being able to make the reservation.

Still keeping up with appearance, but you know you’re failing miserably to look okay, you thank the waiter for the message and leave a decent amount of cash to pay for the establishment letting you practically loiter there for an hour and occupy the table.

Before you leave, you ask if you can borrow the phone to make a quick phone call, which they were kind enough to allow you to. Your husband had given you the number of the hotel he was staying at a few towns over, and you wanted to not only make sure he’s okay, but at least speak to him on your anniversary.

“Hello?” You hear his tired voice through the receiver.

“Hey, babe, it’s me,” you reply, clutching the phone closer to you, like that’d make you feel any better. The distance was still large, and you longed for him to return.

“Hey! Honey, I’m so sorry,” he says, very apologetic, “the client is asking us to come back and present a final pitch tomorrow and then they’ll make a decision on if they want to sign a deal with us...”

The company he worked for was very prominent and credible in the area. He provided for you both just fine and you knew how important this client was to them. He was leading this pitch with his boss close by, and you were made aware that if they successfully closed this deal it would send him to a promotion and you’d both be set, enough to possibly leave the rough town of Knockemstiff. This was no place for you, and he was determined to get you both out of here as soon as he could.

“Oh, yeah. No, I get it,” you respond, trying to sound as understanding as you could without giving off how crushed you actually were that he wouldn’t be returning tonight. Twirling the coiled telephone cord around your pointer and attempting to lighten the mood, “I do. I know they’ll sign!” You boost, and hear his cute laugh drown with the static of the connection.

“Happy Anniversary,” he says sincerely, and you can tell that he genuinely feels bad for standing you up tonight, but at least he had the decency to call the place and let you know.

“Happy Anniversary,” you repeat then continue to let him speak. He promises you he’ll be back tomorrow and if everything goes as planned, he’ll spoil you with a trip, a little getaway for you both. It fills you with so much hope that after the exchanges of “I love you”, the call ends, and you’re feeling slightly better than you had minutes ago.

Make no mistake, you were still upset, letting your make-up, hair and dress go to waste. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to extend a trip. You thought you were used to it, but again, it was your anniversary. It knocked you down a bit that life was cruel enough to not let you have just this one thing.

As if that wasn’t enough, the sudden downpour was the cherry on top of it all as you were now left standing on the sidewalk, using your long dress coat as a makeshift umbrella, while waiting for a cab. You’d taken one earlier to the restaurant, but the idea was to go home with your husband in his car that he’d taken for the trip.

You contemplate for a few minutes to leave your post and head back towards the restaurant to stand under the awning for shade. With this much rain, you were doubting you’d be able to hail a cab anytime soon. The water seeps into your nice heels with each step through the puddles, water splashing against your legs, and the ends of your dress dripping.

Once under the tiny roof, you shake off the water on your coat before slipping your arms back through the sleeves and try to warm up as best as you can, while waiting for the rain to let up.

“Mr. Perfect stand you up, tonight?” You suddenly hear a voice pipe up next to you. The voice is smooth and a familiar one, and not just because it was prominent to the townspeople of Knockemstiff, but because you’ve heard it almost your whole life.

You turn to see Lee Bodecker, childhood friend and the town Sheriff, uniform-clad, badge slightly fogged from the moisture of the weather but still as shiny as ever on his left breast pocket and topped with his campaign hat.

“Hey, Lee,” you greet him, ignoring the comment about your husband, as he lights a cigarette.

He always called him that and hardly ever by his first name. Even physically around the man, he’d resort to calling him by his last name and you’re not sure if it’s because there was something personal between them or where you all stood in life, but surely them having known each other since high school you’d think there would be no need for formalities amongst...friends? Acquaintances? Whatever they were to each other, they weren’t strangers.

You’d lived in Knockemstiff your whole life and was around the same age as Lee. You grew up going to the same school, church, camps...he was a constant in your life. You liked to think he was a friend. He on the other hand liked to think more. He always wanted more than what he already had.

“You look nice tonight,” he compliments before blowing out a cloud of smoke into the stuffy air.

“Thanks, but no,” you begin explaining why you ended up alone tonight, “he’s having to extend his business trip,” not like you owed it to him or anything, but you suppose it wouldn’t hurt to kill time talking to an old friend.  

“You sure it’s not something else…” he trails off while looking forward, not paying mind to your bewildered expression. Of course, you’d think that was the most outlandish idea. He knew you were madly in love with your dear husband and he would never think twice about him cheating on you. The two of you were just too perfect. It was almost sickening to him.

“He would never!” Your voice raised, but not as to shout out at him, but loud enough to appear insulted and defensive. Your arms crossed over your chest, upset that he would insinuate your husband would be unfaithful to you. You trusted him and he trusted you, that’s what made the dream work.

“I’m not saying he would,” he says flicking the white stick of the ashes on the end, “...would be a damn fool to,” the last bit more to himself before taking another drag.

If he thought you didn’t catch the last part, he was wrong. You weren’t completely oblivious to Lee’s advances, no matter how little they were. People talked, your husband especially, noting the soft spot the Sheriff had for you. He was always nice to you and you didn’t think any harm of him. He was rough around the edge, but that’s how he had to be. Plus, he was married, and your heart was spoken for.

“How’d you know I was even here?” You ask curiously. How did he know your husband was a no show tonight?

“Think I’m some stalker?” He jokes, a grin spreads across his features, and you blush embarrassed you’d made it sound as if he was a creep, “I was hungry and heard this place was nice.”

He was in there? You’d been people watching the whole time you were inside, and not once did you recall spotting Lee at a table. You shrug that thought aside, settling with the fact that he was a trained official, and it was his job to blend in and keep a watchful eye.

“I wouldn’t know,” your remark sounding a tad bit petty. You didn’t get to eat anything on the menu aside from the free bread. A few more seconds go by, before he speaks again, waiting for the uncomfortable topic of your date being cancelled tonight to pass.

“You’re never going to catch a cab in this weather,” he points out, tossing the rest of his cigarette onto the soiled ground and stomping on it. He hears you let out a big sigh knowing he’s right. “Come on. My car’s not too far,” he offers, his head cocked to the side in the direction of the lot.

The last thing you wanted to appear as was helpless, but that’s what you were in this moment. Spirits down, soaked and stranded. You shrug your coat off again to cover your head before reluctantly accepting his offer, not noticing the wicked curvature of his lips on his pudgy face.

He wasn’t having dinner inside that restaurant at all. He was aware that your wedding anniversary was tonight, and had your husband been able to attend, Lee got some sort of sick pleasure in tormenting him in front of you, even with something as silly as bringing up a past memory unfavorable to your beloved, and luck seemed to be on Lee’s side tonight.

Lee knew where you lived. He’d visited a few times from the outside, and as an official he knew the town almost like the back of his own hand. The rain seemed persistent by the second. You could make a run for it up the steps of your front porch into the safety of your home, but you knew how bad the roads could get on a stormy night. Lee didn’t leave you stranded tonight, and you wouldn’t feel right leaving him stranded in his police car overnight.

You hang your coat on the nearby rack by the front door and extend the courtesy to Lee, who hands you his hat and worn-out leather jacket. He slips off his wet shoes, not wanting to leave a trail of muddy prints in the pristine home. It was a beautiful house. You kept it nice and clean, it was basically a model home. Lee couldn’t help the scowl on his face, while your back was turned to him as he followed you deeper into the house, just thinking about how your husband won again. His home couldn’t compare to what he gave you.

After stowing away your heels in the closet, trading them for a comfy pair of house slippers, you tell Lee to make himself comfortable in the living room, while you disappear into the kitchen to make a quick snack. You opt for a nice variety of meats, cheese, crackers and some fruit on a small charcuterie board.

When you returned to the living room, Lee had been inspecting the artifacts that decorated your home. The framed photos of you and your husband, his bright smile almost mocking him as he glared at it. He’d sure like to knock that smug son of a bitch stiff himself, alright. Other items that scattered the home were of the souvenirs from his trips, tiny religious figures, and other trinkets that made the home your own. Oh, you had it made, he thought.

Lee never liked your husband. He believed he was well on his way to snagging you, until he moved into town that year during high school, and when you both met, people called it love at first sight. Lee felt like he was always out bested by him, he one-upped Lee in almost everything. It was ridiculous, but it wounded his male ego, and even up to now, with the kind of power he possessed, he still felt like he came in second place and your husband ultimately won because he had you - the real prize.

He does his best to maintain his composure at the sight of your exposed cleavage, the dress you wore accentuated your bust nicely, as he turns around just in time to see you bent down to place the board on the coffee table. When you come back up, you offer him a seat on the couch.

“Got anything nice to drink around here?” He asks, and you mentally scold yourself for not being a good hostess and initially offering him a beverage upon arrival. You list out a plethora of usual choices, water, coffee, tea, a bottle of pop even, but he was looking for something hard. Neither you or your husband were heavy drinkers, so you didn’t stock up on liquor, but tonight was supposed to be special, so technically you had something.

“Well, I do have this nice bottle of wine, but…” your words trailing off. You probably wouldn’t be able to enjoy it anytime soon. If your husband successfully closed the deal tomorrow, he’d probably be thrust with more responsibilities and longer hours, before you two could escape on that getaway he promised to take you on. “...I was saving it for my anniversary tonight,” the words come out pathetically and you curse yourself for even mentioning you had the bottle and its purpose, but you were awful at lying.

He lets out a tiny scoff, no doubt amused on being reminded that Mr. Perfect couldn’t be here to rightfully celebrate your union. “There’s no use letting it go to waste, right?” He says, it was almost effortless on his part, like his whole domineering appearance made people bend to his every will.

“I guess you’re right,” you agree and turn back around to grab the pricey bottle and two glasses. It was a little weird at first, drinking with an official of the law, but he did his best to make it feel more like two friends catching up over drinks.

Suppose it had been the effects of the alcohol, you were definitely not a frequent drinker, but it made you feel more at ease and open enough to get through the night with your guest. Lee knows very well that you’ve been a good girl your whole life. The girl next door. An angel in his eyes, who attended church regularly and lent a helping hand to the community, he knew with his track record you’d never settle or trade the life you had now to be with his sorry ass. Not to mention, he let himself go after his marriage to Florence; he’d settled that was for sure.

He kept tabs on you, more than of the suspects he’d be tipped about. You figured he was just dedicated to his job and not much of his seemingly harmless rounds around your usual routes. It wasn’t a big town after all; you ran into people all the time.

With your legs folded underneath you, the alcohol settled itself in your system enough for you to relax, not realizing your dress had ridden up, so much that if Lee were to just recline a few inches back, he’d get a peak of your panties. The food and bottle of wine halfway through, Lee started probing into your personal life. Was everything all that it cracked out to be? Were you really happy with your husband? What did he have to do?

He works his way cleverly in conversation. Starting with old memories of growing up together and embarrassing high school moments, before asking the more personal ones. The elicited memories served as a blanket of faux trust, to get you to confine him. Good old Lee, you’ve shared countless memories with him, you could trust him, right?

You didn’t realize you’d drunkenly admit how you’re ready to start a family with your husband, but the thought of his impending promotion would halt the idea. Maybe he wasn’t ready just yet. You’re alone at home for the majority of the day, you were ready and were getting tired of waiting, but you made a vow to do whatever it takes to make this marriage last even if it meant putting a pause on things you wanted.

Lee notices the wistful look that washed over your delicate features. On the outside you were happy, but on the inside, you yearn for more. A better life outside of Knockemstiff, with a more devoted husband and someday soon a baby in the picture. No doubt, he would’ve given you that immediately...

“I’d never leave yo-” he quickly catches his slip-up, before recovering, “Florence. I’d never leave my wife alone, especially on our own wedding anniversary,” he says, voice growing almost husky, and suddenly you’re uneasy at the close proximity between you two.

You could even smell the alcohol on his breath, see the way it made his lips shine, staining it a deeper shade of red. You remain unmoving for a moment, like you’re hypnotized by his alluring blue eyes. You thought they were rather nice, very different from your husband’s eyes. Your mind clouded, you started convincing yourself of something you’d never felt before, an attraction to Lee Bodecker.

It was absolutely not a match made in Heaven, but Lee always wanted a taste, and you were the embodiment of forbidden fruit. He notices your glossy eyes but thinks nothing of it. You’re scared, scared to break your sacred vows, ashamed of yourself for thinking about someone in another light other than your husband.

Not wanting to turn this into a pity party or even think about what would happen if you didn’t cut the tension now, you excuse yourself and keep busy by cleaning up the remnants of your “dinner” and pick up the charcuterie board to take back to the kitchen and begin cleaning up. The slight wobble in your step indicates you’re almost gone and would have to call it a night.

In your absence, Lee fishes out a tiny plastic bag he had stashed with him from a previous bust. Some stupid teenage party, and with his power, it meant he had access to all the confiscated substances the precinct collected. He decides to pour you both another glass but pays special attention to yours. When he hears the rush of water from the kitchen, he takes advantage of the stalled time to slip and allow the drug to settle in your glass, careful to measure just enough based on your body mass, so as to at least keep you conscious.

When you reappear, Lee stands up, glass in each hand, yours outstretched to you. You want to refuse, knowing your limit, but not wanting to be a downer, you give in and accept the doomed glass.

“To wedded bliss?” Lee toasts to you and your husband, raising his glass slightly up towards yours, to which you force a smile and clink the cup ware together.  

Two gulps in, your head starts spinning, and you blink your eyes a couple of times to keep your line of vision straight, but it doesn’t. Lee sets his glass back down on the coffee table and swoops right in, an arm cradling the small of your back to keep you steady before you stumble to the floor. He grabs your glass and sets it next to his, still holding you close, your hands are covering your face as if to wipe off the effects of the alcohol.

“You alright there, gorgeous?” He asks with a light pep in his voice as if he found some humor in this. He certainly did. You were a lightweight and it wouldn’t take long for him to finally get what he’s always wanted. It couldn't have been more of a blessing in disguise that you were left all alone, vulnerable on this particular night of your life. The devil always works harder…

“Yeah, I-I think I just need to lie down,” you say disoriented. Eyelids heavy, you try to focus on Lee’s concerned face, your hands settled on his chest.

“Then let’s get you to your bed so you can rest properly,” he nods before taking your hands in his calloused ones. He reveled in how soft they were and how nice they’d feel wrapped around his cock, tugging him until he came undone.

“It’s okay, Lee,” you attempt to thwart his plan and remove your hands from his. A part of you had some sensibility to remind you that your bedroom was sacred, and no one else, especially another man that wasn’t your husband should be left alone with you in it, “I-I can...m-make it there on...m-my own,” you struggle in convincing him.

“I’m not so sure you can, sweetheart,” he starts to reason, “just let me help you,” and then pulls your body back to prevent you from falling again. You let out a strange noise, which causes him to laugh. You stagger in guiding him to the master bedroom, but soon enough he’s successfully laid you on top of the large bed.

As soon as your body hit the mattress, you felt weightless, almost as if you were floating in the clouds. Nothing hurt and nothing mattered, it felt kind of good, suppose that’s why some people abused certain drugs. It wasn’t until you felt a pair of rough hands running up the length of your thighs, dangerously close to the hem of your dress.

“What?” You speak out ever so confused, hands coming down on his wrists to stop him from traveling further up.

“Relax, babe,” Lee says as tender as he could be, your hands weakening their hold, “I just want you to feel comfortable in your own bed.” He was crossing a line and had you been able to think clearly, you’d have kicked him out, but Lee didn’t even entertain that possibility at all. What were you going to do? Call the cops? He was the law. No one would believe you.

“I-I,” you stutter profusely, “I don’t think you should be...doing that,” you manage to say, his hands long gone under your dress, grabbing the sides of your hips, hands full of your flesh. You weren’t going to lie, it felt nice to be touched again, but as soon as Lee started to lean in, your legs bent up to block him, your body still playing in defense over him. His hands reemerge from your dress and settle themselves on top of your knees.

“Lee, I-,” all words disappear from you, you can’t seem to find them or the strength to enforce them, especially when he parts your legs, climbing into bed with you, he maneuvers his body to settle in between, and he’s careful to not crush you with his weight.

“What is it, baby?” He asks, then tests the waters by planting featherweight kisses on the skin of your exposed cleavage that’d been teasing him all night, “What do you want?” Each kiss burns, but the substances flowing through your veins turns it into sheer pleasure that you start to lust for more.

His lips make their path up the column of your neck, until their ghosting right above yours. Your breaths mingled with one another, eyes staring at the small gap between your lips. Your mouth opens and you try to speak, but nothing comes out. Lee however takes the initiative and closes the space, his tongue wasting no time delving right in.

When the muscle makes contact with yours, you’re not sure what to do at first. A part of you wanted to voice out that you’d wanted him to kiss you, relieve you of the frustration, and the other part wanted to demand he get off. You were always faithful to your husband, the initial shock needed to pass by first.

Lee notices your frozen state, and coaxes against your lips, “don’t fight it, baby,” his hands wander and explore all the fields of your body, “you deserve to feel good...I can make you feel good...better than he ever could.”

Your head starts to turn to the side, your willpower isn't going down yet still putting up a fight against this act of sin, but their efforts fail as he forcibly grips you by the chin, directing you back to his lips. The kiss is sloppy on his part as you’d still manage to not reciprocate his affections.

“You’re allowed to feel good, doll,” and by some unexplained phenomena, it was as if his words gave you the push, the permission, to give in to temptation.

When he’s sure you’re locked in place, he lets his hand loose to grope at and knead your breasts through the material of your dress. Your lips started to relax and move against his. His handy work causes you to sigh through your nose and it encourages him to slide the straps down your shoulder, pull at the top of your dress, and yank at your bra, allowing your breasts to spill out.

The skin-to-skin contact causes an abrupt jolt to course through you as you involuntarily arch up into his body. Your sensitive nipples rolling in between the pads of his fingertips, causes your breathing to hitch. Lee tears his lips away from yours to take a gander at your exposed top half, and he audibly swears at the very sight. That son of bitch husband of yours, keeping you housed practically all day, away from anyone. He can’t entirely blame him there, he’d want no one to get any ideas of you behind closed doors either. At least they could agree on one thing - you.

Breathless, you start tugging at the end of his tie, desperate to feel his lips back on yours, and he doesn’t disappoint, going in for a bruising kiss. Your hands unwittingly start undoing the knot at the front of his neck, unbutton the top of his shirt, but he stops them, and pins them at the sides of your head. He was going to leave his clothes on for now, not sure if you’d be turned off by him - drugged or not.

You let out a whine and stare up at him with big, pleading eyes. The smirk on his lips, makes your stomach flip. You were losing this battle. You sealed your fate, there was no coming back from this now.

Lee ruts his hips forward, the rough material of his pants scraping against your delicate under garment, and you let out a guttural moan, his hard on evident and poking at you the more he does it because he loves each and every sound that escapes you.

He lets go of one of your hands and revisits an earlier task, slipping back underneath your dress. His fingers push aside the slit of your panties, enough to let him run his fingers through your unashamed wet folds. It was so wrong, but you couldn’t control the itch anymore. Lee hisses lightly, the effect he had on you all too evident.

His ministrations are slow and calculated, running his fingers up and down, your arousal coating his digits, rubbing small circles at the nub, and just right at the entrance. You inhale sharply when he slips a finger in, your hand still cuffed by his other, the intrusion causes your fingers to curl around his wrist, your nails slightly puncture his skin. You’d only been with your husband, and the comparison between him and Lee were indisputable.

He drags his finger back out before digging in again, this time almost knuckle deep. You bite your lip and stare back at his eyes that have turned dark, almost black, full of desire. He’s all but enamored by every bit of reaction he pulls out of you. He’s judging by the looks of it, your husband didn’t think out of the box, wasn’t exciting enough. What a bore, he thought. A woman like you, deserved to feel all sorts of pleasure. And you felt incredibly tight around his digit alone, he could hardly wait to bury his cock inside you.

“That feels good, huh, baby?” He pretends to ask, but he knows it does. It’s written all over you, you’re breathing deeper, eyes closed, intensified by ecstasy just running through you. Nonetheless, you nod in response, and it turns him on even more at how obedient you are.

“You want to feel more?” He tempts you. Your eyes flutter open and look at him again, faces close once more, the tip of his nose nudging your own. Growing impatient with your answer, without warning he curls his finger inside and lightly scratches at your walls.

“Yes, yes!” You say, stunned by the sudden trick, but also loving it.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, right before reclaiming your lips with his. Your complete and utter mush underneath him, his kiss sends your mind in a frenzy. Your hands fisting at his short hair, any trace of inhibition completely leaves your body.

He pulls you into an upright position, lips never parting only for the brief seconds when he pulls your rumpled dress over your head. Your bra casted aside, hanging on the edge of the bed, closest to your husband’s side as if to mock him.

You attempt to untuck his shirt, pulling roughly at the material, Lee laughs at your eagerness. It’s all but muffled as your other hand, at the nape of his neck, pulls him impossibly closer to you, lips moving feverishly on his. The faint stubble on his face burning the corner of your lips and jaw, a sharp contrast between your husband, who kept a clean-shaven face.

Lee parallels your legs to easily pull your panties down, then gets between them once more before pushing you to back down on the bed. You lie there, watching him hovering over you, your eyes travel down his large body and are mesmerized on his hands working to unbuckle his pants. He leans into you again, and kicks his pants off, the thud of the metal belt clanking on the bedroom door serves as an indicator.

You daringly, sneak your hands down south and grip his hard cock through his boxers, catching Lee off guard. Your heart pounded heavily in your ears, all you could hear was the sound of blood rushing as you felt, firsthand, at what you’d be dealing with tonight. It only increased your appetite and sexual curiosity.

Palming him, you start to gauge at the length and girth, but you didn’t want to leave the rest of the imagination, so you reach in and pull his member out, the tip already leaking with pre-cum, staining your palms. He bucks into your hands and you both let out sighs of pleasure when you start rubbing the bulbous head of his cock on your soaking cunt.

Lee swats your hands away, wanting to be in control again. He rids himself of his boxers, tosses the end of his tie over his shoulder and on his back, and picks up the flaps of his police shirt. He does all this to give you both a clear view of his cock as he slowly sinks into your wet channel.

As soon as he disappears inside, so deep you feel the underside of his clothed belly against your lower body, Lee looks up at you, desperate to see your expression, getting off at how good he made you feel. Your head thrown back, lost between the fluffy pillow you were resting on, mouth hung wide out. He was so much bigger, and Lee knew then that he won in at least one other aspect of their little battles.

You gripped him like a vice, your body not used to this kind of intrusion. He moved in-and-out slowly, the tear from each stretch of his thick cock gradually became less painful. Lee studies your facial features, waiting patiently as the creases between your eyebrows start to disappear, and your breathing turns from choking on air to puff sighs and breathy moans.

Your thighs start to loosen and the walls that grip around his hard member relaxes, your eyes peer open again and get a glimpse of the work. You start whimpering at how just as good it looked than it felt. Lee snaps his hips hard the next time, now that the worst part has passed.

As much as he’d rather plow you deep into the mattress at a fast pace, he also wanted to savor the feeling of your warm walls, squeezing him just right for as long as he could last. Who knows when he’d be able to get you alone again? Maybe he should stop by more when Mr. Perfect was out on another business trip.

His thrusts back in are long and hard, a strangled noise escaping you each time, only fuels him. He picks himself up, resting his body weight on his knees, he hooks his arms underneath your legs and pulls your body upwards, your ass resting on top of his thighs. You grip at the bedsheets, a corner popping off, as the new position allows his cock to probe at different areas inside you. It didn’t take long for you to convulse around him, wrecked with euphoria from the orgasm.

Your legs falling slack in his arms when you come down slow. It was apparent, you hadn’t had it that good in a while or Lee would peg, ever, just convinced he was a better lover in bed than your husband. He was wrong before; you could have it so much better with him. Lee reaches over to caress your face, skin hot and cheeks flushed, but the touch provides a sense of comfort and tenderness.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he says blown away by the sight of you overcome with pleasure, and spread open, completely bare for him. His eyes scanning your body from your head to where you both were connected.  

That’s when he notices it. His hand travels down and braces itself on top of your belly, right where his dick poked, feeling the slight bulge. The mere thought of you swollen riled him up. If you wanted a baby, he’d give you one. You didn’t need to ask if he was ready or not, he’d give you however many you desired.

“You want to be a mommy so bad, dontchu?” his voice all gruff and thrusts picking up speed, “I’ll give you a baby,” he promises and continues to pound into you, tenderness a thing in the past. It was now all about his climax and living up to his new promise.

“Huh?” you question, a sense of knowing creeping back in when he says this, “no, no, please don’t,” you start begging, legs trying to kick him off before he cums inside, “Lee,” your pleading hopeless and futile against him as his hips ram into yours forcibly, no doubt you’d be incredibly sore in the morning at the sudden roughness. It gave him a thrill to fuck you in the same place where you and your husband slept.

His lips litter wet kisses all over your exposed neck, you pay no attention to it as the tears stream down the corner of your eyes, burn your ears, and you’re exactly what you hoped to not appear as, completely helpless. The death grip he has around your waist holds you still long enough for your body to absorb every drop of his seed. You hadn’t realized your hands were braced against his sweaty shirt as if to attempt to push him off, but he was much stronger than you, they formed into clutching onto handfuls of the material instead as you felt his load shoot into your womb.

For a few minutes, Lee stays put, still inside of you, trying to remember how you feel around him. He filled you to the brim, as some of the mixed juices pooled around the base. Lee lets out a low groan, as your walls involuntarily contract around him, like you’re trying to suck him back in as he slowly pulls out.

He collapses on your husband’s side of the bed, but just before he does, he reaches down at his discarded pants on the floor for the carton of cigarettes in one of the pockets, the lighter in the other. When he’s back in a reclining position, a few drags in, he looks over the opposite of him, and studies you.

Your body shining with a thin layer of sweat, hair matted and stuck on parts of your face, your breathing had seemed to regulate once more. It might as well appear that you were sleeping and not recovering from a good fucking.

“You still with me, doll?” He asks for safe measure before lightly tapping the sides of your face. When you make no protest or movement at all, he mentally applauds himself for a job well done. You’d sleep through the night and he’d be long gone before your husband returned.

By now, the rain had since died down, roads were safe for driving, and well into the late-night hours. Lee finished his cigarette and decided it was time to tidy up and make his exit. He’d set the scene as if you’d been drinking alone tonight. He carefully slipped your clothes back on, tenderly wiped you, and even cleaned the glass you were drinking from earlier, to rid of any traces of sludge, in the kitchen sink. He did everything to make sure there were no holes in this plan.

Before Lee leaves you, he stares at your sleeping fame. So sweet, he says to himself, while tracing the outline of your lips with his finger then leaning down to feel them soft against his for one final taste. 

The next morning you hear your name being called out repeatedly, and even with the slight pounding ache on the side of your head and remaining grogginess, you recognize the voice to be of your husband’s. He was back, and you regrettably attempt to sit up to welcome him home with loving arms, but the sudden and quick movements only increase the drumming in your head.

“Whoa, take it easy, babe,” he says, gently resting his arms on yours and pushing you back down on the bed, “looks like you had a long night,” he comments.

“What?” You ask why he’d think that. You don’t remember much of last night other than him cancelling on your wedding anniversary...and the very vivid dream you had about Lee Bodecker. Yeah, too vivid it made your stomach flip, but also it felt all too real except it couldn’t be. You’d never sleep with another and break your vow and he was a married man.  

He figured you’d have trouble remembering, but he explains that he found the opened bottle of wine, you’d saved for the both of you, the stained glass next to it on the coffee table, and you passed out in bed still in your dress. It was then you noticed you were still in last night’s attire, so any wild thoughts that crossed your mind earlier of infidelity were scratched out.

“I thought something was wrong,” he expresses worriedly.

“Why would there be anything wrong?” You ask now confused. Despite the dull ache in your lower region, you were in the safety of your home, and you didn’t have a history of drinking heavily before, so last night was just a fluke.

He starts informing you of how your kind and elderly neighbor had noticed a sheriff’s vehicle parked in front of your house for a few hours, “…said she’d gotten worried something had happened to you when she saw the car...” he pauses, a hint of annoyance on his face at his next words, “...but said once she saw Lee step out, she knew you’d be safe, and well, I can’t disagree with her on that. Lee would never let anything happen to you.”  

You didn’t even pay attention to his last few words, too caught up when he revealed Lee was in fact here last night. The idling, dull ache now suddenly growing, and you do your best to swallow down the small bile rising in your throat at the revelation that confirmed your suspicions. The dream you had about Lee couldn’t have been a dream, but reality. Not only had you committed adultery, you were ashamed of the heat between your legs at the flashback of how good he made you feel.

You knew you’d never consent to such a thing. Was this a case of sexual assault? And could it be classified as one if you were just as willing? It confused you greatly, not wanting to believe Lee manipulated you to having sex with him. You couldn’t recall any part of how it began, where he had done something wrong other than also cheating on his wife. Oh, poor Florence, you thought to yourself and it only added to the headache.  

“I guess I owe him some form of gratitude for making sure you’re okay,” he says reluctantly, almost a little pained and forced, “oh honey, don’t strain yourself,” he advises, nursing your obvious hangover.

He’d mistaken the look of sheer horror and internal heartache for illness. Like the doting husband he was, he helped you slip into something comfortable and less restricting before heading into the kitchen to fix you up something light to eat.

As you laid there in the tainted bed, you prayed for forgiveness. You lived your life carefully and to your best ability, morally, how could this have plagued you? Was there an appropriate way to confess your infidelity to your husband? He wouldn’t tolerate it, you knew that much, and you wouldn’t blame him for leaving you.

The thought of a life without him scared you, but not as much as the possibility of a life that wasn’t a product of your love growing inside of you.

A/N: Yeah, I don’t even know. I’ve been reading a couple of Lee Bodecker fics and I was tempted. Thanks for reading! Please give this a like, reblog or comment if you enjoyed!