#come on you can handle some workout without trying to book a flight to the next damn eon :///

[ozzyfromthecafeteria]

anyone know where to find a new heart. this one’s getting on my nerves personally.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Sore

I don’t love what this idea turned into, because it was supposed to be lighthearted, but it really spiraled. I will say, I like the ending.

Summary: Reader breaks down after a tough case. Spencer is there to help. 

Warnings: mentions on child abuse, domestic abuse, sexual assault, unhealthy coping mechanisms, therapy

Word Count: 2930

She didn’t mean to overdo it, but sometimes it’s inevitable. It’s her only escape.

 The team just finished up a domestic violence cult case in Laramie, Wyoming. It took six days for them to even realize the cult aspect, having been trying to connect the victims to one offender. The case was draining for everyone, but especially for her.

Everyone in the BAU has some kind of past trauma. Nobody randomly decides to do this kind of work for a living without some significant inspiration. Over her time in the BAU, Y/N has come to learn about these traumas and how they’ve shaped the people around her. She has yet to share hers though. Not because she doesn’t trust them, but rather because she only ever talks about it to her therapist. She’s made significant progress in coping with her trauma, but she hasn’t worked through it enough to bring it up herself.

 Of course, keeping it bottled up doesn’t work so she found a way to relieve the stress. Exercise. It’s never been a problem before now. She’s never overdone it before. If a case has her thinking about it, or she’s having a particularly bad day, she’ll do a HIIT or fully body workout until she’s tired enough that her brain shuts off.

 Her therapist is working with her to limit the bad days. Honestly, since joining the BAU her bad days have been rather infrequent. There’s just too much else to worry about for her to think about her own problems.

 But this case hit too close to home. Every new victim and every new piece of evidence reminded Y/N of what it was like growing up with abusive parents. She went into foster care at 15. Three years later, she went to college and did everything in her power to forget it.

 But history has a way of repeating itself. Her college boyfriend hurt her. It started small. He grew controlling, accused her of cheating, and then tried to beat the “truth” out of her. She finally left him, only to wind up with another guy who wouldn’t take no as an answer. So she stopped dating. She threw herself into her work, trying to rid the world of men like those of her past. That’s what lead her to the BAU.

 The group of profilers on the jet could all tell something was off, but Y/N isn’t one to be pushed into opening up. They know she’ll come to them when she’s ready to talk about it. Whatever “it” is. So, rather than poking and prodding, each member shows they are there for her in their own way.

 Derek and Emily each give her a hug before departing, something reserved for after especially difficult cases. Rossi squeezes her shoulder, much how she would imagine a loving parent to. JJ offers a kind smile, the one that always brings you joy, and reassuring eyes before heading out for the day. Hotch gives her less paperwork than everyone else. Penelope sends her extra videos of cute animals to lift her spirits. And Spencer stays by her side for the entire flight. Normally, Spencer would sprawl out on the sofa to catch up on the sleep he always lacks. Instead, he sits beside Y/N and offers her the blanket he typically uses, calming her nerves with the gentle swishing of pages being turned in his book of the hour.

 With everything on her mind, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She should call her therapist, but they aren’t landing until 9:30 pm and she knows Dr. Robbins has a family of her own. So, she treats it like she used to treat a bad day. She finds a workout to do, and puts every last ounce of energy into the different exercises.

 Only, it doesn’t work like it used to. After completing the nearly hour long workout, her mind is still whirring with the pictures from the evidence board. Every time she closes her eyes she sees her father’s face, and hears his drunken yelling. Her mother in the background, unbothered because she only had Y/N so he would have a new punching bag.

 So, she finds another workout. And then another. And then another. After three more hours, she’s finally exhausted her brain into tuning out the memories long enough for her to sleep.

 She sleeps for most of Saturday, waking only long enough to shower and eat dinner. Sunday morning, the memories are back. So, she’s back to working out.

She knows in her head that it isn’t healthy, but the logical part of her brain isn’t exactly functioning at its highest level. All she’s focused on is making the pain go away. If turning the emotional pain into physical pain is what it takes, then so be it. She’d rather have the aching muscles.

 All of that, lead her to now. It’s Monday morning and she can barely walk like a normal person. Every step requires more energy than the last. Hell, she can’t even sit down without falling into the chair.

 The elevator doors spring open, revealing the glass doors that lead to the BAU bullpen. She walks in as best she can, tossing her bag on her desk with a dull thud. Of course, she’s later than normal and so Spencer and Morgan are sitting at their desks, watching as she throws herself into her chair.

 “Hi Y/N…” Spencer trails off when he sees the bags under her eyes and notices her stiff posture. “Um, are you alright?” Spencer’s puppy like concern warms her heart.

 “Yeah, I’m fine. I just did a little too much at the gym this weekend is all. I’ll be fine in a few days.” She tries to hide the underlying emotional stress behind why she did too much. Morgan can tell she’s hiding something though, even if he is way off base about what it is.

 “Yeah, the gym.” Morgan snorts his response, cutting Spencer off before he could start rambling about how to combat the negative effects of too much exercise and simultaneously drawing the attention of Emily and JJ who were reentering the bullpen after getting coffee.

 “What’s that supposed to mean?” JJ questions before Y/N can defend herself.

 “Little mama over here is sore from too much time at ‘the gym’.” It’s clear to her, and nearly everyone else in the room, that Morgan thinks she is sore from being absolutely railed. Suddenly all eyes are on her. It’s just too much for her to take. The combination of mental and physical exhaustion crossed with not wanting to talk about it causes her to break.

 She’s not sure what thought process her brain is following when she replies. Actually, she’s pretty confident her brain isn’t functioning at all when she starts speaking. Her words are painfully quiet, lacking the typical edge one would expect from someone so mentally and physically exhausted. She sounds broken. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was in the gym for four hours Friday night and seven more yesterday, so excuse me if I’m a little bit stiff. It’s hard to work in time to stretch afterward when you’ve finally exhausted yourself enough to sleep without having to worry about remembering-.” With tears in her eyes, she cuts herself off, pushes herself from her chair, and starts the walk toward Hotch’s office, stopping to whisper her gratitude to Reid. “Spence, thank you for checking in on me.”

 Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, and Reid share confused glances as she opens and closes the door to Hotch’s office without even knocking.

 “Hotch, I think I need to go home. I- I need to talk to someone and I can’t do that if I’m here.” She manages to mutter out the words without fully breaking down, but Hotch can still clearly see something is wrong.

 “If that’s what you need to do, please go ahead. I just want you to know that we’re here for you too. You’ve been part of this team for a little over two years now. None of us want you to feel like you have to keep it all to yourself. Unfortunately nightmares come with the job, but I want you to know we all-” He stops talking as the tears begin to stream down her face. Rising from his seat, he walks around his desk to offer her support.

 Without even sparing it a second thought, Y/N collapses into his arms. She’s too exhausted to hide her emotions anymore. It’s all become too much.

 “I just can’t keep it in anymore. I feel like I’m hiding a piece of me from all of you, and I just don’t want to anymore.” It’s not exactly how she pictured letting it all out, but it makes sense. She’s hit a wall and there’s no way forwards but through.

 “Shh, it’s okay. What do you need?” Hotch is protective over his entire team, but something about Y/N makes him feel like an older brother. Like it’s his job to protect her from anything and everything he can.

 “I just want to go home. I need a break from remembering it all.” Hotch nods in understanding, reaching for his coat.

 “I’ll take you now.”

 “Actually, can Spencer take me? I want to tell him first. And can you tell Morgan I’m sorry? It wasn’t fair to say that. He didn’t know.” Hotch guides her out of his office, promising that Morgan wouldn’t hold it against her.

 “Reid, take L/N home.” Spencer nods in understanding, already reaching for Y/N’s keys since he takes the metro.

 It feels like hours have gone by, but it couldn’t have been more than 30 minutes before Spencer was sitting next to her on her couch in her apartment. They didn’t talk at all on the drive. Tears were still falling down her cheeks, but at a much less alarming rate.

 “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. We can just sit here.” Spencer has never felt less equipped to handle a situation. His years of learning everything there is to know haven’t prepared him for seeing the one person he cares about more than anyone else in the world so broken.

 “No. I- I want to tell you. But I need you to do me a favor afterward.” She sniffles, slowly looking into his eyes.

 “I’ll do anything you need me to.” His words are so sincere, it almost brings about another round of sobs.

 “After I tell you, I need you to tell everyone else. I just know I won’t be able to force myself to relive it more than once, so if I tell you, then you can tell everyone else because-”

 “I’ll remember exactly what you say.” He nods to himself, thinking she picked him for his memory rather than because of any potential feelings.

 “Well, yeah. But, also I wanted you to hear it from me. I wanted to tell you because I couldn’t bear the thought of you hearing it from anyone else. I wanted to look into your eyes when I say it all for the first time without being with my therapist because I know you will still look at me the same way afterward. You won’t treat me any different because you know what it’s like to feel like the baby of the group and as much as everyone else cares, with you it’s different. I just know you’ll understand what I need in a way nobody else will because you’ve always been able to read me, even when I tried to hide it.” She manages a weak smile in his direction, taking a deep breath to prevent anymore ramblings.

 “I don’t… I don’t know what to say. I- thank you for trusting me enough to be here for you.” For the first time since meeting Y/N, Spencer feels like she might feel the same way about him that he feels about her. Of course, now isn’t the time to act on it, but it still fills him with a confidence he would have otherwise been lacking.

 Before she starts talking again, Y/N reaches for Spencer’s hand. An action he would quickly come to understand is a big deal for her.

 “As far back as I can remember, I never had anyone who cared about me. My dad, he would hit my mom. When she got pregnant, she saw it as a way out. He stopped hitting her because she told him once I was born, he would have his own personal punching bag, but I had to actually be born for that to happen. I don’t really know when he started hitting me. If I was an infant or a toddler or whatever. But it’s all I can remember of them.” Spencer begins rubbing circles into her hand with his thumb when he hears her breathing speed up.

 “It was like that until I managed to tell one of my teachers there was something wrong. I was fifteen when I was placed in foster care. I switched between homes until I went to college on scholarship.” Spencer does his best to provide comfort to you, but he can tell there’s more to the story.

 “Freshmen year of college a met a guy. We started dating, and I thought I found someone who cared, ya know? But, he started to get angry at the smallest things. He would lash out, break things. One day he started hitting me, forcing me to do things.” She takes a shaky breath before continuing. “I was more prepared this time though. I had a therapist I could call. She helped me work up the courage to leave him. But then right after graduating I met another guy and it all turned out the same.” Silent tears pour down her face as she continues.

 “I felt trapped. Like there was no way for me to escape the cycle. No matter what I did differently I kept meeting people who hurt me to deal with their own pain. I gave it all up, figured I’d never find people who would care about me. I focused on work, made it to the BAU. On bad days, I would work out until I was so tired I couldn’t remember my own name let alone the things they had done to me. Then when I met all of you, it felt too good to be true. There was this whole team of people who suddenly cared about me. It was hard at first, to accept that it was real. But you have to know I never thought any of you would hurt me, it was just in my head that I would never have this kind of familial bond with anyone.

 This last case, I don’t know what it was about it, but I couldn’t stop seeing the evidence boards. The faces of women who were passed around from man to man as objects to abuse. So, I fell back into my old habit. Only, it didn’t work like it used to so I just kept going and going until I could escape.” The tears slowed as she managed to get everything off her chest. All that could be heard in the room was her ragged breaths.

 “Y/N, I… I can’t imagine how difficult that was to share.” Spencer shifted closer to her, but not too close in case she didn’t want the touch.

 “I’ve always felt like the team- like you would understand. I’ve been working on it in therapy actually. Figuring out a way to tell you all, but I guess I hit the proverbial wall first...” She’s shaking her head as she looks at the floor.

 “Hey, none of that. I know self-deprecation when I see it, and I will not tolerate it from you.” His words carry a gentle conviction. “You are truly one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. I’ve seen you take down unsubs three times your size with pure physical strength. I’ve also seen you talk an unsub down, saving countless lives without laying a hand on them. Never doubt that you are strong enough for this job, because you are one of the strongest people I know.”

 Spencer’s words bring tears to her eyes, but the happy kind this time. She throws her arms around him, snuggling as close as she can. Spencer, at first surprised by the contact, freezes. He quickly melts into her embrace, rubbing circles into her back until she falls asleep.

 Spencer manages to fill the team in via text, explaining enough that everyone understands what happened without having to go into too much detail. He helps her move to her bedroom, trying to prevent any more soreness. When she asks him to stay, he lays down by her side.

 The next morning she wakes up cuddled next to Spencer with several texts from her BAU family. Rossi invited everyone to his house for dinner, an offer she greatly appreciates.

 That night, the team shows her what it feels like to have a family over pasta and wine, a classic combination. In the future, they’ll continue to show her what family really is.

 Spencer will show her what it feels like to be in a healthy relationship. He’ll show her how it feels to be loved without living in constant fear. She’ll show him what it means to be loved for who you are.

 They’ll show each other what it means to be happy.

  tag list:

@mac99martin​

[sugar-petals]

SuperM as Subs

↪ A/N. UGH these guys have me fucking spiraling. very excited to bring you this, please indulge 👀

○ warnings ⚠️ 18+, dom/sub, kinks galore, gender-neutral dom!reader

3.5k words | bullet points | this is all over the place there is so much to say i—

⌈ ten

— motto: kitten has ‘ten’ in it, but so does intense.

wowza honey

best choke out you’ll find

the stamina, too, oh lord. ten can handle a lightning fast riding without blowing up in two minutes

all while you choke him

with a waist harness on and ankles bound

bondage looks so good on him; he’s flexible and enduring. imagine a hogtie... art. 

such a beautiful man.

literally, rope marks, imagine that

we need to talk about his pain threshold as well there

things that have other guys screaming are a mere tickle to him

i can’t emphasize enough how lucky you’ll be. this fella does not have to be trained much. experience? abundant. talent? more than vast. he knows precisely how far he can go with what kind of kink. that is invaluable.

and now, the most mind-blowing part. stress: he encourages you to take it all out on him. in his mind, that’s an extra treat and a promise he gets it raw how he loves it. 

your satisfaction is his fuel, as is seeing you unwind. 

the whole progression from heavy beginnings to breathless ends

the boy needs you to go, for the lack of a better word, buck-wild

so yes, ten is your number one (pun intended) address for all things messy. he asks you to hatefuck him, you spoil him with it.

the sheer masochism of him

are you kidding me

listen i’m not a fan of the sin concept but in this case... you can sin all you want with him

tl;dr: angry sex is his thing. strong emotions. guts will be rearranged.

about the elephant in the room: yeah, this guy can bust some extraterrestrial, dazzling, sexy as hell moves

that means one thing. contortionism. you can bend him into every position you desire and fuck him like that. he’s petite but don’t worry. your babe’s strong

in fact, you can sit on his face and get one ferocious rimming daily

things will get wet wetter wettest

surprise surprise vice versa he likes his own ass filled with plugs and vibrators

the type that buzzes him into a delirium while you slap him. with his neck turning red and those pretty almond eyes going wide. 

they do hold the universe. he’s just so enthralling.

btw. talking about toys. having a fleshlight ready to make him moan and ruin his orgasm is a veeery good idea.

chances are you will draw cute english or thai interjections from him

in return, you can call him your prince and kiss him all over for aftercare. he’s no different, thinking of you as someone figuratively and literally noble to him. he’s thankful you fulfill his greatest sexual dreams. it’s true, you’ll really worship each other.

he’ll do his little mona lisa smile and doze off in your lap...

sub!ten is just priceless okay

10/10

i need a moment

⌈ kai

— motto: local strip club found bankrupt.

oh mY GOD nini

he knows how it’s done

did he go to sub school or something

you’ll find him at the stove around 6:30 AM in his apron

making you breakfast pretty much butt naked otherwise

flustered and sexy butler kim right at your service

looking very sculpted

dancing a little, as usual, he’s getting into it

in other words, you’re sure to get those eggs fried well

now, besides his skimpy clothing and waiter allure

kai as a submissive is almost definite to be an epitome of organization. he’s just good at it. period. lube and protection are always in the house.

you do your part doing maintenance for toys and cracking the occasional whip but really i mean... as the great oh sehun once said... never don’t mind about a thing when jongin gets the chance to put something in order

so lean back — kai is a service sub. he’s the type who wants to break a sweat for you

and have that very visible because he doesn’t own clothes anyway. well, well.

something more about organization

fucking according to a schedule sounds about right

you have it all planned out with a special calendar book just for that purpose

but don’t believe he’ll be boring and hyper-structured beyond that

kai is the precise opposite of dull as a lover but that’s a huge duh

he has both the acute sense of bashful romance and strong erotic feelings that come with a regular eyebrow wiggle

he likes to provoke the wild animal in his partner

reckless abandon

kai is 100% guaranteed to make you let out the beast. he enjoys feeling you go all out and grip him, pin him. everything hands-on is good.

grinding and gyrating is always part of sex. hell, even floating and flying. fuck gravity.

you need a certain level of dexterity. and hey if you don’t, you will pick it up from him in a solid minute

what i’m trying to say is that it won’t happen that the two of you rub against each other in the sheets like two blocks of wood (even when going into aftercare!). it will be fluid, ever-moving, energetic right and left with the mattress creaking all over the damn place

sex with jongin is one thing for sure: fucking fast. he won’t mess up his tempo if you know what i mean. the two of you will be thrusting and moaning until complete fatigue sets in

he whines a lot i’m telling you

it’s the surefire way to know kai is into it, being genuinely vocal is one of his best qualities as a sub

besides handling any rough pace 

this guy will have you sneaking into his gym room and have a quickie on the next best workout bench

and lord knows what else. 

the bathroom is another destination. wet!kai, the yearning romeo, is an image you won’t forget

prepare to get your hands on all of that

he’s gonna melt right into ya

and that is sub!kai for you

⌈ taeyong

— motto: vanilla? hardly heard of her.

to use an nct pun: the options are— limitless.

and another: you’re signed up for a... long flight.

and you’re gonna be the: boss

who gives it to him

and i’m warning you

he’s shy about it but

taeyong is simply insatiable. take his kinky reputation at face value.

what doesn’t he do

the softest softcore (feathers to tease him) to the hardest hardcore (edge play, hallelujah), the whole spectrum without any efforts for transitions

so you guessed it, a normal bedroom really won’t do.

neither does a standard dom

but since you’re knee deep into taeyong — go figure, you’re reading this — news flash you likely aren’t one

plug in all of your toys and cameras for date night. he needs his good dose of lube-dripping fantasy, homemade with a bunch of latex thrown into the mix

yeah i know that will escalate quickly

he wears it well i’m telling you

and also greatly enjoys you donning it for friday evening

it will frustrate him to the max which is a sight to see indeed

no other sub in super m gets harder boners over latex. that’s how it is. he’s just so drawn to the material and how much authority it gives you in particular

noona/oppa kink incarnate

hell, even daddy/mommy

he calls you that when you are forehead to forehead and catching your breath

because man these orgasms are going to get you so high, bodies gently intertwined

and very, very drenched

not just skin-wise

so let me underline this

your dear taeyong, no matter how innocently he can blink at you, gets his daily nutrient intake from cum. 

what fancy-schmancy protein shake is he interested in other than yours like literally none

put him on a leash together with baekhyun and you have two salivating, ultra dirty boys

so ready to please and swallow everything up

taeyong is a handsome handful

you’ll be horny 24/7

or 23/7 maybe because aftercare

where we revert back to adorable yong. he clings to you a lot, you nuzzle him all the time, the affection is off the charts

he’s pouty and sweet, smiling to himself

holding him tight gives him a big sense of security. 

safe to say he wants everybody to know he belongs to you in terms of PDA, too

it’s not restricted to domestic intimacy and sexual aftermath

taeyong truly has the perfect ratio of freaky and soft

god worked hard on him

⌈ lucas

— motto: when bigger is better, things get wetter...

ready for take off are we 

yukhei is one flirty crackhead you’ll love it

teasing will go back and forth

there might even be play fights and wrestling involved. messing around on sofas and carpets, you know the deal. things won’t get too rowdy, he’s being his 6′ baby self and you don’t want to use your whole bag of tricks yet vice versa

lucas eventually lets you win anyways

and acts like he’s lethally injured ffs

he’s an aquarius don’t come for him they roll that way

in comes the patient-doctor roleplay. yep that’s how the story goes

and you sure as hell get to take care of um

luke’s big lightsaber

alright

it’s throbbing a bit too much and needs medicine

so think of yourself as a jedi master training your disciple.

read: edging the living soul out of him. 

rough handjobs are just perfect

as is going on a rodeo trip getting the guy to tame those bucking hips with a lil punishment here and there. and with punishment i mean tickling even when he is close to orgasm

uh-oh

wong yukhei is a cutie pie but he has just about a bucket of cum for you spilling all over the place

he might get a lil embarrassed about it, that’s the sweetest thing

cleaning it up will be his greatest pleasure

so

ready for subby lucas yet?

he’s juicy

so what else do we have... 

(besides that he sounds like harry styles is dubbing him and that voice is going to turn you on so hard)

if his dominant doesn’t have an ounce of a muscle and biting kink that’s, how to put it, a missed opportunity

just licking him and leaving marks everywhere just has to be the biggest feast in history. you have him parade around sleeveless just to see the hickeys on his arms. 

and you don’t have to be frugal. it has to scream mine mine mine. yes, xuxi has some arm sensitivity going on. he needs your mouth on him doing chaotic stuff that leaves his jaw hanging open. to the point of you eating your brunch off his chest and shoulders.

there i said it 

breakfast with yukhei is cancelled. it’s breakfast on yukhei

as for positions: things are usually more chill and standard. just how much missionary will there be, you’ll lose count. he’s good at it. lucas has the condensed passion of ten people, it will be more arousing than you’d think. it’s also a good pause to your usual activities, you both get a chance to um take a breath

if he feels cocky, wong brathei likes to lift you up during sex and here we go again with a staring contest... which ends with a bright smile and kissing 

what did you expect

always remember this one thing. in his big himbo brain only one thought floats around and that. is. his. love. for. you.

a whipped boy

he’s irreplaceable.

patient xuxi reports speedy recovery

⌈ mark

— motto: good boys go to heaven after debuting a couple times more

sirs and sirettes, mark lee.

what did you think the “m” in super m stands for? mario, man, massive, market, model?

nope

SuperMark is what keeps the planet spinning

now here it goes

let’s get one assumption out of the way first

you’d think he fucks how he talks but you’ll be surprised

everything’s slow slow slow

the pace is very casual for someone who raps and thinks that fast

mark is just too friggin’ cute

a blushy cupcake

innocent and always curious what you’re up to

just perfect for all sorts of gentle dominance

you can reassure him when he gets nervous which happens every now and then

and put him into soft sweaters and blankets when he feels cold

maybe even building a pillow fort and just caressing him ad nauseam literally for minutes on end.

tousling his hair would be adorable beyond belief

the same goes for giving him cheesy pet names

or feeding him sweets

you can bet chocolate is his favorite. 

but it’s not just all about pampering him

keen how he is you can expect a lot of gestures of attention from mark, like carefully selected presents and foot massages

there’s a real gentleman at your hands.

a gentlemark

he might have come up with that himself 

you bet there will be lots of humor involved mark just can’t do serious sex

his intellect is yeahhh... superhuman

as much as his heart is squishy for you.

it’s hard out there. this world is tough

but mark is a safe haven to return to and have wholesome hours in bed with

30% sex, 70% aftercare.

you think that’s impossible? look into his puppy eyes and tell me all you’ll do won’t be spooning

it’s an art form and mark is just too inviting not to do a brush stroke on the canvas. 

and after you’re done spooning things are back to more caressing

a smooch left, a smooch right

for the 30% he might need a bit of outside support because his inner perfectionist compels him

so he’ll text johnny at 4:30 in the morning with urgent questions

because his mind is racing and he promised to wake you up with a set of spicy stuff

sex veteran johnny will calmly explain it to mark but also keep it short and simple

because man how early can someone text you 

and mark appreciates a crisp how-to that he won’t forget

even when you are chest to chest feeling each other’s breath and his brain almost shuts down

at the end of the day...

you say hey canada lemme get my hands on those big thighs of yours and ding ding his pants are off. he responds so easily to guidance

and his dancing skill always helps to get groovy with you

so

bust down markiana

you’re that bitch and you know it

⌈ baekhyun

— motto: you and me, relax and ch...oking

leader on the streets 

screamer in the sheets

even the most peace-loving, noise-sensitive neighbors are going to dig the things that come out of his mouth as caused by you

just how good are his lungs

imagine him making audios for you. yes, god is real.

you just hit the lotto

the things his mouth can do 

byun baekhyun is a synonym of oral fixation when will merriam webster admit it

if there’s one person in super m who can nail the picture perfect drooling ahegao face without hesitation it’s him

he will pleasure you with his tongue so vigorously

that level of spit blowing will haunt you

and the slurpi—

THE NOISES. we can’t talk about the noises. nope, nope. the noises are not meant to be described to this world. 

you’ll suffer from incurable lust once you picture it

you know what his voice can cause

that would trigger a mass hysteria

anyway. moving on. 

baeks is the type to appreciate a mix of cheek-on-cheek cuddling and getting his brains banged out

you can toss him around, grab him by the hair, fuck him absolutely stupid

while also kissing his forehead and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. as if he doesn’t want you enough already this will have baekhyun needy for so long

he’s the king of slutty behavior

and making both of you crack up with mid-sex jokes about who knows what, suho’s butt mole or something

he’s just too hilarious. on the other hand he likes being creative and concentrated

in his free time you’ll probably find him reading erotic stories, sketching sexy stuff (i.e., well, you) in a journal, or even a manual to the kamasutra. it gets him all hot and bothered to the point where he can’t stop being chatty about it.

baekhyun’s arousal always first manifests as a wave of words or texts 

your part of the equation is distilling the essence of said texts and getting to work on that perky body of his

and praise him plenty. baekhyun loves a lot of verbal affirmations and you’re glad to shower him with it.

kink-wise: he really has a gazillion ideas to try

costumes, gags, whips, pet play, sounding, collars, semi-clothed sex, cock rings, suspensions, you name it

as the cherry on top, a three- and fourway could be part of your routine for sure. 

that being said he might have a few dicks in him physically or mechanically because geez bacon loves fucking machines and dildos

he is 100% ready to embark on one hell of an anal odyssey

how much he can stretch out you can probably guess. and he’ll make jokes about it either way to turn you on

you’ll be certain to exhaust and stuff your lil’ darling to the brim but i’m telling you what you already know

he’s gonna be the happiest ahegao boy in the world

and throw peace signs when you take pictures of him fucked out

that’s byunbaek for you. one of a kind

a subby gem

⌈ taemin

— motto: 500 points to slytherin! 

this is what you’ve been waiting for i know I KNOW

red carpets out for the sensual sub king and nation’s p.r.e.t.t.y. boy

the international bombshell blonde

a bdsm luminary

DEITY

now, listen. 

some erotic feats are truly hard to execute

but there is always one guy who’s the exception 

and his name is lee taemin

no matter how unrealistic or complex your imagination of sex with him is

with this man, most of it can become real

effortlessly

because he’s a) an open-minded lover b) rich enough to rent ten dungeons — per hour and c) closest to perfection we as a human race have ever come 

taemin is a pro at bringing all kinds of your and his fantasies to life. that’s why it’s important that you sit down to talk about how your intimate encounters could look like every other week

primarily, as far as his taste is concerned

we’ve all heard about his tales of creepypasta romance

literally he’s been an idol for so long and still comes up with new baffling ideal type stories

so according to those

he wants to be run over by you and thinks that’s hot,,, but i say... we stick to flipping him over... like on a bed,,, no car involved

this pal is macabre you have to be an embodiment of the law to rein him in

police roleplay much. arrest this provocateur!

furthermore and on a lighter note

besides being jailed

lo and behold, chained up and decked out in lace, draped on a lip-shaped art sofa is how he feels the most in his element

add a mask and a corset 

just how glamorous is he

this guy has mastered all techniques of drawing you in with the most elaborate seduction. 

tremendous!

including dance: for your eyes only. 

prepare to have your loins set on fire.

because within the 4 walls of your home his every move will be pure danger loaded with sexuality. it would be even more of a public menace than he already is when performed in front of a crowd

keep those handcuffs ready officer

because it is your mission to stop that guy 

the more restraints the better

put five harnesses on him i don’t care as long as it contains him

and once that’s done

taemin likes to be stimulated and teased with you running silk fabric all over his body

he also enjoys you creating artistic pin-up-esque photography of him

with sultry eyes and puckered lips

and no worries. taemin will put his plump lips to good use elsewhere, too. all. over. the. place. servicing his dominant is an honor.

and those moans will be like a melody.

the literal only weak spot he has

is to kiss and tell. taemin gets carried away in conversation and feels pride when the topic switches to you. so... if you lick his earlobe and call him your slave, jongin knows the very next day and finds it very entertaining. 

taemin won’t deliberately spill the beans in a group chat but one-on-one with a close friend? he’s too excited not to talk about your chemistry and lets some juicy details slip if he can’t control himself.

taemin requires a dom/me who’s definitely not insecure and wants others to know who’s boss.

on the flipside, if you enjoy voyeurism? he is your man. it’s a matter of perspective entirely.

so to speak — even his weakness is a strength.

that’s all you need to understand about him

in sum: you got yourself quite an ace 

taem will press your number and you’ll have no sorrow in the world.

we truly are blessed by his existence

peace out

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2019. all rights reserved. do not repost.

[itzagothamcitysiren]

Welcome to the Family

here’s part 2! 

link to part 1 here :) 

Tell ‘Em That It’s My Birthday pt. 2

               At this point in his life, Tim Drake should be used to expecting the unexpected but here he was still being left in awe. It was just like all the other times throughout the last handful of years. It was just like how he didn’t expect he would be the one to put two and two together and find out that Bruce Wayne and Batman were one in the same but he did. It was just like when he didn’t expect to become the newest ward of Bruce Wayne after his foolish attempt at proving he could be the Batman’s new partner by ticking off the Penguin when he hacked into his personal funds and nearly drained all his accounts but he somehow did.  

           He hadn’t expected that stunt to make him have to change his identity and have his parent’s go into hiding as Penguin sought out revenge against him for costing him millions but it had. He also hadn’t expected that after all the trouble he put the Batman through during his quest to become the next Robin that he would actually convinced Bruce to take him on but he had.  But what he really didn’t expect was the sight that was slapped right in front of him.

           “Erm, thanks?” Tim said, confusion and annoyance laced in his tone.

           His mood was already sour no matter how hard Stephanie had tried all day to keep him cheery. It was his birthday, she constantly reminded him as if he needed to be. He knew it was his birthday. He knew that she knew that it was his birthday. He knew that Alfred knew, that Bruce knew and that Dick knew. He knew; he didn’t need her constant reminder that he should be in a good mood because it just made him feel even more vexed. But in this moment, he’d take her hounding him all day over this current predicament.

            It wasn’t even a predicament but it sure felt like one. He felt like he was a beat up dog trapped in a corner, feeling the sweat start to form on his brow as he stared down at the younger boy who’d been terrorizing his very existence these last couple of years now. Maybe that was a little overdramatic but maybe it also wasn’t, the kid did trying maiming and killing him a couple of times. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, letting his eyes dart away from the boy.

           “Steph told you to do this didn’t she?” He asked Damian, his fellow Robin, who had just caught him in the hall and simply said that it was his birthday.

           “Tt, like Fatgirl has any control over my actions.” Damian tutted, rolling his eyes and putting a hand on his hip.

           “You really shouldn’t call her that.” Tim said, feeling his nerves begin to be tugged even more. He bit his tongue and looked away from Damian for a moment. He was itching for a fight but knew it was best to wait for one during patrol tonight. Rolling his eyes, he looked back at Damian, placing his own hands on his hips. “Okay well who then? Bruce? Dick Alfred? They want you to play nice to me or something?”

           “Please. I am quite aware of your birthday, Drake.” Damian scoffed, clearly offended at Tim accusing him of doing anything out of his free will. It wasn’t even like he wished him a happy birthday, Damian huffed to himself; he just stated the fact that it was his birthday.

           “Oh, well, thanks Damian.” Tim said thrown off, trying to ease up on his stance.

           “Tt. Don’t take it too personal, Drake. I know everyone’s birthdays. I studied everyone’s file on the batcomputer upon my arrival.” Damian explained. He narrowed his eyes at Tim as he continued.  “I just brought it up because I’ve noticed your mood and wanted you to know that just because it’s your birthday that you best not be distracted tonight on patrol. It won’t be becoming of you; even you.”

           “Gee, thanks Damian, I’ll make sure of that.” Tim grunted, glaring daggers at the boy before brushing past him.

           He headed back to his original destination before being cut off by the demon spawn: his room. He intended to lock himself up in there for the rest of the afternoon and drown himself in work. He had hoped that it would make him forget about what was eating at him but found himself unable to concentrate. All day and night he kept looking at his phone waiting and waiting for a call or a text; anything that would show that she remembered. Hell, Damian remembered and she didn’t?

           It haunted him all night and much to Damian’s smugness, during patrol. Even the next day when he decided to distract himself by getting a head start on his summer work. Stephanie sat across from him at the dining room table talking about some show or YouTube video. He didn’t really know as her voice sounded like it belonged in an episode of the peanuts. His heart stopped when his phone went off, his work abandoned in front of him. A day? It took her a whole to remember?

           The call went to voicemail by the time he could get his body to move, Stephanie sitting across from him asking if he was going to get it waking him up. When the phone went off a second time he felt himself get mad and instantly ended the call without picking up. He saw Steph’s mouth drop from the brim of his vision but didn’t say anything, turning to his book instead. Steph knew he was upset that she forgot but didn’t think he was that upset until her own phone went off and he reached across the table and ended the call before she could answer it herself.

           The next day was basically the same, with Tim ignoring Stephanie as they went about their business. His brain was tired and for once he allowed himself a break; a break from the hard work at least. His fists pounded against the punching bag, having turned down Damian when he taunted him by offering to teach him a thing or two.

           The punching bag is Damian’s face, the punching bag is Damian’s face, he repeated over and over again.

           As he felt himself go faster he also couldn’t stop and feel like he was being watched. He knew Damian was across the way, practicing some hand to hand with Dick, who had thankfully intervened earlier when Damian started to pester Tim. Stephanie hadn’t been around, taking the day to go spend time with some friends and knowing that Bruce was in the office as well as Alfred being out running some last minute errand.

           That said errand was now revealed to them as he finally pinpointed the source of him feeling watched. Coming down from the stairway was Alfred, with a very tired but somewhat excited looking in tow. Tim stopped his punching for a moment to give them a look before quickly jerking away and heading towards the bench where he had placed his towel and water bottle.

           His heart pumped as his made his way over, his mind racing with thoughts of how this confrontation would go. He didn’t think she’d actually showed up. He thought he’d had more time to brush his feelings under the rug and get over it. It honestly wasn’t a big deal; honestly. But he couldn’t stop himself from caving into himself as he heard her great Dick and Damian who were the closet to her.

           “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be with the Titans?” Dick pulled her into a hug and releasing her after nearly crushing her to death.

           “Yeah, I just erm, missed you guys, was gonna come home for a couple of days.” She waved off as she ruffled Damian’s hair. She smirked as he swatted her hand away and glowered at her. “Gar and Kori can handle everyone without me.”

           “Gar? So you’re on a nickname basis with Aqualad now?” Dick eyed her, knowing all about her and the Atlantean’s little fling as Kori described it to him.

           “Oh please.” She shook her head Dick, I’m almost 23. I can date anyone I want.” She rolled her eyes, making a note to have another talk with Kori about sharing her personal matters with people.

           Damian grimaced at her, the thought of his sister being with that simpleton disgusting him. He looked up at her. “Have you been eating alright? Getting enough rest? There is no way in sound mind you would willingly consummate with that halfwit.”

           “You too?” Halley gaped at her younger brother. “You haven’t even met him, you’re just copying Dick.”

           “For once Grayson has the right idea about something.” He nodded firmly towards Dick.

           “Yeah- hey wait!” Dick started but trailed off to glare down at Damian.

           “How about you two discuss this while I excuse myself from this conversation,” She smirked, cutting between the pair and making her way over to Tim, calling out to him as she got closer.

           “Tim!”

           Halley’s smile was wide, almost guilty looking even as she stood by the bench he was now sitting on. Tim stared up at her blankly, slightly peeved when he saw her disappointed face when he didn’t stand right up and give her his usual overly enthusiastic greeting. What did she think, he blew out. Did she think that after the couple of weeks of barely talking to him and then forgetting his birthday that he would jump up and be excited to see her?

           “I just got off a nearly six hour flight, I’m starving.” She said softly, rubbing her stomach for emphases. “Wanna go get some food? Just you and me?”

           “Not really hungry.” He shrugged, standing up and moving to head out of the workout area. He narrowed his eyes at her, wanting to if just for a moment, to make this hard for her.

           “Tim-,” she started off, pleading.

           “Why are you here, Halley?” he frowned, turning around to look at her. “Why aren’t you at Titan’s Tower?” he said, knowing that he was never going to actually walk away from her.

           “Tim, I’m sorry about not calling the other day. I just totally spaced on what day it was. I don’t even know how.” She said with widened eyes, wanting to convey how bad she felt about it. “It’s just everything with the new kids and training-”

           “And Aqualad now too?” He raised an eyebrow.

           “Look, Tim I’m sorry, please just don’t be mad at me.” She pouted, embarrassed as she knew Dick and Damian, even Alfred could most likely hear them.

           Tim bit his lip and sighed, knowing that he was overreacting. He knew that she was busy training the new generation of Titans. He should be more understanding, both of them had hectic lives. He just couldn’t help but feel bitter as she’d never forgotten something like this before. He just wasn’t used to her not being around as much as when he first arrived at Wayne Manor. He gave her a soft smile, relenting in his anger.

           “Okay, okay. I’ll forgive you but on one condition.”

           “Anything!” She jumped instantly at the chance.

           “I want Bat Burger and you owe me a trip to the arcade.” He said pointing a finger at her as he listed off his two demands.        

           “Deal.” She nodded, smiling and dragging him into a hug.

           Tim smirked, as he hugged back. He couldn’t never truly stay mad at her. Their bond was too strong to be worth ruining it over something that was an honest mistake. He knew he had promised Bruce that he’d spend the day training with the others. But everyone knew Tim never stopped, pushing himself as far as he could, having an obsession with proving himself. Though with promising Bruce, at end of the day he knew Bruce would be okay with him playing hooky for once. It was his belated birthday anyways.

[unending-happiness]

Hi, I've got a question out of nowhere! I was looking to re-read a story And When You Soar that was on my AO3 bookmark list and it's apparently not there anymore! I think it was your story? Can I ask what happened to it? If it's indeed the story I remember, I loved it!

Hi! Oh wow. It’s definitely my story! I’m smiling so big because you want to reread it. So…..as for what happened to it, I got a little overwhelmed with all my responsibilities in real life and how little time I had for writing. All my wips just felt like a heavy weight on my shoulders, because no matter how much I wanted to finish them I just didn’t think I’d ever have time. And I also felt so guilty about leaving them for so long without updates and letting readers down. So, I deleted all my wips from AO3 and vowed to only post them again when they were complete on my end (except for editing) and I could update them on a regular schedule. And When You Soar was supposed to be a relatively quick story, but then, as stories do, it took on a life of it’s own and there ended up being way more to it than I originally thought, so it got pulled too. 

I’m actually in the middle of writing a long one-shot right now that’s fairly close to being sent to my beta. I don’t know what’s wrong with my writing brain right now, but I get huge bursts of inspiration for something new, then it fades, and rinse and repeat. Super unhelpful. 

Now, the good news is, I’ve found myself at the very beginning of a period of being off work and quarantined at home because of this delightful pandemic we’re all experiencing, so I’m going to attack my wips with intensity and AWYS has a very good chance of getting finished soon and back up on ao3. Honestly, thank you so much for this ask because I wasn’t sure what wip from my list to work on after the one I’m finishing now, and you’ve made the decision easy for me. Thank you so much, lovely human! To hold you over until I post it again………

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And When You Soar-Chapter 1

Alec ducked his head and stepped through the door and into the plane. He stopped when the elderly woman in front of him came to a standstill and looked around, transferring his suitcase to his other hand. He acknowledged the flight attendant standing to his left with his usual tight smile.

“Welcome aboard,” she greeted him, flashing him a bigger smile of her own.

“Thanks,” Alec answered her before his attention shifted to the open door just past her. A tall pilot standing just inside the flight cabin nodded at him and then turned his attention to who Alec assumed was his co-pilot. Always curious, Alec leaned to the side to see more of the other pilot, but his view into the small space was almost completely obstructed by the large man

“Sir,” the woman said to get his attention again.

He looked over at her and saw that she was motioning for him to move along into the cabin. He realized that the people in front of him had moved forward and he was holding up the line. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, as if talking at a normal volume would cause further disturbance.

She just smiled at him sweetly again, and then turned her attention to whoever was behind him. Alec shifted his suitcase so that he could fit down the aisle, and focussed on finding his seat without taking out the tiny woman in front of him. He located his row near the back of the plane and saw that his seatmates hadn’t yet boarded, so he quickly stowed his bag in the overhead compartment and sat down in the aisle seat. 

Normally, Alec loved being tall. He never needed a step stool, he had always been chosen first for basketball teams in high-school gym class, and he could see over everyone’s head in a crowd. It also made intimidating people fairly effortless, not that he would ever admit that out loud. Being tall was almost always a perk, but he found that flights were one of the few glaring exceptions. 

He always sprang for first class when he had to be on a plane for more than a few hours, but his sister’s last-minute plans had him booking the only available seat on the only available flight that would fit into his demanding schedule. He barely had time to get a workout in and grab a quick shower before his Uber pulled up. He was feeling very lucky that he at least got an aisle seat, and even so, there simply wasn’t going to be a position that would make his legs happy. It was going to be a long night and his only hope would be to fall asleep, which was unlikely, as he found it especially difficult to do in crowded places.

He grabbed his phone and earbuds out of his backpack and put it under the seat in front of him, barely leaving enough room to squeeze his black Nikes in there. When he glanced back up, he could see that there was a young man and woman waiting patiently for him to get up so they could take the seats next to him. He quickly stood and moved to the side. The man eyed him up and down suspiciously and then quickly changed positions with who Alec could only assume was his girlfriend so that he would be sitting next to Alec instead of her. Alec barely contained an eye roll. Heterosexuals. He gave them plenty of space while they got settled and then gingerly lowered himself back into his seat, already regretting going so hard in the gym that morning as his thighs still protested from yesterday’s workout. He would feel it doubly tomorrow. 

He went through the process of checking and returning messages on his phone. He handled a few work emails and then touched base with his family. He answered a text from Izzy.

 Did you make your flight?

Barely

That’s the spirit. See you soon. 😘

If by “soon” you mean in 9 hours, then yes, that.

Grouchy…..You got stuck in economy again didn’t you? Such a diva.

Next time you come up with some grand scheme, I’m going to need you to think of my legs.

Promise, but I’m sure you could use your powers of persuasion to get yourself into first class. 😎😍

You’re confusing me with you, again

Oh, Alec. Try not to have too much fun.😂 We’ll pick you up at the airport.

Hey, I know how to have fun.  

And by “we”, do you mean…..

Simon and I. I wouldn’t bring mom or dad. I’m not that mean.☹️

I have plenty of scars that suggest otherwise, but I’ll see you in 9 short hours.

Love you, big brother <3

Love you, too.

 The perky flight attendant had started her safety speech, which was thankfully straight to the point and not one of those lame ones trying to make everyone laugh. Alec fastened his seatbelt across his black joggers and logged into the airline’s Wi-Fi. He put his phone on airplane mode as soon as he was connected. He glanced over at his seatmates to see the man was huddled up next to his companion and they were chatting quietly and giggling. He didn’t think he had to worry about them trying to talk to him, but he stuck a wireless earbud in that ear anyway just to be sure. He scanned the rest of the passengers within view of him and tried to settle comfortably in his seat when he decided that everything was as it should be.

The pilot he had seen when he boarded the plane came out a few moments later and did the standard pre-flight announcement. Captain Garroway had a deep and booming voice, so Alec clearly heard the weather and their destination all the way from his seat in the back of the plane.

He busied himself with scrolling through his playlist to distract himself during take off. He wasn’t a nervous flyer, but the knowledge that nearly all plane crashes happened during ascent and descent kept him from really relaxing until they were fully up in the air. Being out of control in any situation went against every fiber of his being, and he just had to work through it. He spread his legs a little, pushing his knees all the way against the seatback in front of him, praying that the person wouldn’t want to recline their seat. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. 

The plane had just hit cruise height, the most nerve wracking part over, and he was listening to a conversation between a mother and child in front of him when his phone buzzed in his lap.

Alec swiped down his notifications and pulled his eyebrows together when he saw what app the push notification had come from. Of all times to get a message from someone on Grindr, this one had to be the weirdest. He hadn’t even had an account for twenty-four hours yet, only having downloaded it late the night before out of boredom. His sister had joked recently that he needed to “Meet someone on Grindr or something to let off some steam”, and despite everything in his being telling him he wouldn’t be happy with such a thing, he had done it anyway. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had listened to her, because he had no interest in hooking up with a random guy just because he was within so many feet of him. There was actually someone he had something really casual with, but it had been a while since he’d seen him. So, he could probably chalk this horrible lapse in decision making up to being frustrated and horny. Still, he had no intention of using the app, not really.

He thought about dismissing the message without reading it, almost laughing at the thought of having sex with some random stranger in the tiny plane bathroom, when it hit him that the message actually had to be from someone currently on the plane with him. That thought had him sitting up straighter and looking around him as inconspicuous as possible. He didn’t see anyone staring at him, but still, like the truly paranoid person he was, he turned down the brightness on his screen so the people around him would be less likely to see what he was doing. Hesitantly, he opened the message.

It was from someone called “CoyNotCryptic” and the icon wasn’t a person, but instead was an aerial photo of a city he didn’t recognize. Oh-kayyy, that wasn’t going to tell him anything. He looked around the cabin again and then read the message.

 I see you’re on my flight.  Enjoy the ride to Rome.

 Alec stared at the words in disbelief. What are the chances? He quickly tried to figure out who this mystery messenger could be. A fellow passenger? The app informed him that it was someone ninety feet away, which would have to be someone toward the front of the plane. A passenger in first class maybe? Alec looked up at the flight attendants suspiciously. Both were women and he didn’t see a third, but that didn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t another one there. First class sometimes had their own attendant. Thoroughly flustered, he turned off his screen and laid it face down in his lap again, still eyeing the people around him and the front of the cabin.

He made it an impressive five minutes before he unlocked his phone and pulled up the message thread. He clicked on the mystery person’s profile. 

All he learned from that was that the guy was 3O ish years old, 5’11”, 175lbs, Bi, and Single. Seemed intriguing enough, but a picture definitely would have been extremely helpful. Fucking Grindr. This was why he didn’t want to mess with it in the first place. He wasn’t going to answer it. Absolutely not. What would he even say? What if the person was a total creep and it was a disaster for the entire eight-hour flight?

Just a few minutes later, bored and antsy, he decided that it was going to bother him if he didn’t at least find out who it was. Oh, what the hell , he thought, and typed out a message.

 The chances of this happening have to be a million to one, right?

 He tapped his foot nervously while he waited the fifteen seconds for an answer to come.

 I’m not privy to the exact statistics, but it doesn’t happen very often, in my professional experience. Does this mean you’re one in a million?

 Alec swallowed a laugh. The wording of the message made him feel more like it was someone working on the flight. That was probably less risky than a random passenger. More than a little intrigued, he typed a reply.

 By that logic, you would be one in a million, also. 

Oh, I definitely am.

How self-aware of you.

Self-aware and humble.

And….working right now??

Yes, although it doesn’t feel like work at the moment.

Because I’m distracting you?

Don’t get ahead of yourself.  It could be the 40-ton jet I’m flying. -MB

 Alec nearly dropped his damn phone and he was ninety percent sure he said, “No way,” out loud instead of in his head. The pilot!! The pilot was messaging him on Grindr. What the actual hell had Izzy gotten him into?! He had the passing thought that maybe it was somebody else on the plane fucking with him, and he looked around for about the tenth time. And MB? Most definitely not the initials of Garroway, the pilot he saw before. Must’ve been the pilot he hadn’t been able to get a good look at when he boarded.

He didn’t have time to go too far down that rabbit hole of thought, because just then a voice filled the cabin. This one was very different than Captain Garroway’s and it got Alec’s full attention, to say the least.

“Good evening, lovely passengers, this is Captain Bane speaking.”

This voice sent a shiver down his spine and made every nerve ending wake up and take notice. It was a voice of pure silk that made Alec think of skin on skin, of dark passionate nights, of hushed whispers between sloppy kisses.

He was absolutely reeling at the realization that “MB” from Grindr was also Captain Bane, the pilot of this airplane, a man whose voice alone stimulated every cell in Alec’s body. He was thoroughly fucked for the duration of this flight and he couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad about it.

“We are now cruising along at an altitude of 30,000 feet. You may use any larger electronic devices you have at this time, on airplane mode, of course. I’m very good at what I do, but I’d prefer a smooth and easy ride tonight.”

Alec pursed his lips to contain his disbelieving laugh, his eyes wide.

“Please also feel free to take your seatbelt off if you need to move around the cabin, but be sure to put it back on anytime you’re in your seat. This is just a precaution in case of unexpected turbulence, or in the event I jerk my stick a little too hard.”

The passengers around him chuckled at the joke, but Alec thought that there was no possible way in hell any of them could be as affected by those words as he was. This was an unbelievable turn of events.

“My darling flight attendants will be doing drink service soon, and I’d like to ask you to be patient and enjoy whatever quenches your thirst. Please exercise self-control, though, as this is a long flight for all of us. Also, just a reminder that any long arms or long legs that are taking up aisle space, are most definitely at risk of being taken out by Clary and her cart, and need to be tucked safely in your seat. Thank you very much and enjoy the ride to Rome.”

This man. Holy. Fucking. Shit. He needed a drink from Clary and her cart ASAP.

He stared at his phone and that last message. It was clearly his move now, and considering how buzzed he was from the announcements alone, he wanted to make it a good one. He decided he very much wanted to play this game.

 Aren’t there rules about texting and flying? 

You are in very capable hands. I wasn’t joking when I said I’m good at what I do.

In all seriousness though, my co-pilot is doing all the heavy lifting at the moment, but if this makes you nervous, I’ll stop. I like to keep my customers happy.

Don’t stop.

I’m not worried.

Good. Tell me something?

Ask away.

What takes you to Rome?

My little sister’s impromptu wedding.

Scandalous. Have you met her other half?

Oh, yeah. They’ve been together for a while. The engagement isn’t that surprising, and, really, the quick wedding isn’t either if you know my family. She’s avoiding a lot of drama. I can’t really blame her.

Ah, family drama, ever delightful.

Unfortunately there’s no shortage of it with mine. 

How long are you staying in Rome for the wedding? 

Just a few days. 

It’s an absolutely beautiful city. I can make some recommendations if you’d like……

That would be great.

 Perky red rolled up to him with her cart, pulling his focus away from the conversation. He reluctantly placed the phone face down on his tray and tried to not look impatient as he got his wallet with his card out of his bag. She asked the couple next to him what they wanted, and Alec dutifully passed a soda and a red wine over. She ignored his debit card and poured a whiskey on the rocks, probably the most expensive they had on board, and handed it over to him. His confusion must have shown on his face because she winked at him and pointed to the front of the plane. It took a couple seconds for him to get it and then he glanced to his side to be sure the people next to him weren’t paying attention.

“Oh, uh, thanks,“ he whispered, and immediately felt like a moron.

“No problem. If you need anything else at all, just let me know. I’ll be back around for meal orders in just a little bit.”

Alec took a big sip of his drink. It was easily twice the size of the drinks you normally received on a plane and he felt a little guilty that he hadn’t even paid for it. He resisted the urge to look around and see if anyone had noticed his special treatment.

He checked his phone as soon as he felt relaxed from the warmth that had burned its way down his chest. There were no new messages, but he decided that sending him a drink was a pretty loud and clear message of its own and he started typing.

 So, now you are flying a plane, texting, AND buying me a drink?! Show off.

Is that a thank you?

Of course. How did you even know where I was sitting?

Well, you see, there are these things called ‘Flight Manifests’ and pilots receive one for every flight.  Although I must admit I’ve never found one quite as useful as I do now. 

By the way, who uses their real name for a Grindr profile??

People who want their pilots to send them free booze.

Ah. Well, your grand scheme is working out quite nicely then, I’d say.

Seriously though, thank you for the drink. 

You’re most welcome, Alexander. (So useful, that manifest)

Nobody calls me that except for my mother when she’s angry with me. 

Would you rather I not?

No….you can. 

Good, because I’m fond of it. 

Speaking of things I’m fond of, Clary tells me that your "longest legs ever” have no business at all being in coach.

Ah, well, you can blame my sister and her last minute plans for that. 

Wait, do you have everyone spying on me?!

Not everyone, just Clary, I suppose. Though, to be fair, she mentioned your legs before I had her bring you a drink.  Seems “tall, dark, and handsome” appeals to all genders.

I’m going to need more alcohol if you’re going to keep saying things like that. 

I’ll let Clary know the gorgeous man with mile long legs in C36 needs another drink soon.

I’m actually blushing.

I’d give my Louis luggage to see that for myself. 

I don’t do selfies.

Really? Not even for the man who tried to get you a seat in First class? 

It was all booked. I checked. 

Yes, it is. But I tried to offer someone top shelf alcohol for the duration of the flight to switch with you. 

YOU DIDN’T. Please tell me you didn’t. 

Doesn’t matter. It didn’t work anyway. Please pass my apologies onto your legs. 

No.

No?

No. If you have a message for my legs, you’ll have to deliver it yourself. 

Do you really think it’s wise to cause a rise in the heart rate of the pilot who is flying your plane?

My bad. Pass my apologies onto your heart?

If I have to deliver messages in person, then you do as well. 

Can you put the pedal to the floor? Get us on the ground any faster?

Do you know anything at all about airplanes?

No, but you could teach me.

With pleasure. 

Lkkdfskhdkhsdfkhd.

 Did he really send a keysmash? He did. He did that, as eloquent as ever. Slightly mortified, he waited to be teased for it. When no message came through, he checked his Wi-Fi connection, then his watch, and finally scrolled through his playlist and chose some music, trying to busy himself with something other than shamelessly flirting with the man currently keeping them alive way above the surface of the earth. He was probably very busy at the moment and Alec had to get a grip, especially since they were only an hour and a half into the flight. 

By the time the dinner cart went through an hour later, Alec had returned a few more emails, done his budget for the month, organized all the photos in his gallery, and archived all the files on his phone that he didn’t need anymore. He also might have checked Grindr for new messages about twenty times, so he was more than a little ready for that second drink. 

This time the other attendant came through, the one with the darker skin and curly hair. She was just as helpful and nice as Clary, but much less hyper, and Alec found that she had a way about her that he liked. With a knowing smile she served him up the same drink as before. She didn’t even try to tell him where it came from, which he appreciated, because at this point he was more than a little self conscious that the entire staff seemed to know the pilot was sending him things. 

She took his dinner order and returned twenty minutes later with what could only amount to two standard airline meals and yet another glass of amber liquid. This one was smaller and accompanied by a bottle of water. He didn’t miss how she took his credit card and made herself look busy, before handing it back without actually swiping it. He gave her a genuine smile, very much appreciating her discretion and she patted his shoulder as she went by. 

He usually didn’t like to be touched by people, let alone strangers, reserving his physical affection for his family alone. Maybe it was the alcohol warming his veins or the fact that he was currently being lavished with gifts, but he found that the small touch made him happy.

Eventually, he was relaxed enough that he felt like he may actually be able to sleep, but he still declined a pillow and blanket when they came through passing them out to everyone. There was no way he was going to be able to get that comfortable around this many strangers. He made a quick trip to the restroom and stopped in the aisle to stretch his legs and torso as much as he could in the tight space, before regrettably sliding back into his seat. He knocked back the last bit of his drink and followed it with the water, before sliding his tray back up and settling in. His phone buzzed on his leg.

 How was dinner?

Pretty good, actually. I think I owe you a few hundred dollars at this point.

Nonsense, it was my pleasure.  

Thank you. 

Is it sad that this is probably better than any date I’ve ever had? 

That’s only because you haven’t been on a proper date with me ; )

Or because I’m bad at the whole dating thing. (Did you just winky face me?)

I think, given the right company, you’d do better than you think. (Yes, yes I did.)

Hah. A high compliment.

How about this for a compliment…….You really need to warn my staff before you go stretching in the aisle, again. Nobody benefits from a passed out crew.

Who told you about that?

Oh, just a little conversation between Clary and Maia.

Ugh. 

I like Maia. 

AND DON’T YOU HAVE A PLANE TO FLY?!

Shhhhhhhhh. I’m a professional, remember?

And I figured you would. She likes you, too.

Nobody likes me.

That’s very much not true. I happen to have it on good authority that just a small little sliver of your stomach can cause an impressive stir.

Please stop.

Are you blushing again?

I’m not sending you a selfie.

What if I pout?

Don’t do that. I’ll be forced to take one and then I’ll die of embarrassment. Nobody needs that. 

*Sighs* I rather like you living, so I’ll give you a pass this time.

So generous.

You have no idea how generous I can be.

You can’t just keep saying things like that to me.

Why not? I’m just trying to give you “sweet dreams” material.

That might be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.

Did it make you smile?

Maybe……

Yes.

Good. Regrettably, I have to go do the heavy lifting now. I’ll leave you to sleep.

Sleep. Sure. Easy. No problem.

Goodnight, Alexander.

 Surprisingly, sleep came easier than he ever could have imagined it would, given the situation, which made him thankful for the food, booze, and the exhaustion that came with being up for almost twenty-four hours straight. He drifted off replaying the messages from Captain Bane in his head over and over and a relaxed smile on his face.

Alec woke with a start when the man in his row slid their window shade all the way up. He squinted against the bright sun, a clear indication that he slept longer than just a few hours. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and tried to blink the sleep from them. When he looked around he saw that a few people were still sleeping, but most were awake and talking quietly, with various drinks and snacks. It seemed he had slept through the beverage cart and probably some announcements, and he imagined that they had to be pretty close to landing in Rome.

He hit his knee on something and looked down to see that someone had lowered his tray and placed a lidded cup of coffee, a bottle of water and a blueberry muffin on it. That’s when it all came back to him. He scrambled around in his lap to find his phone, dropping it on the floor in his haste. He leaned down in the tight space to get it and hit his head on the seatback in front of him. “Shit!” 

He glanced at his seatmates and said a quick, “Sorry,” for cursing and causing a ruckus, but didn’t pay attention to them long enough to see their reactions. He had much better things to do.

He managed to fish his phone off the floor and quickly straightened, sliding down his notifications with impressive speed and selecting the one he wanted.

 Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.  If you need anything else, let me know.

Alec grinned and took a big gulp of his coffee before replying. He needed to wake up fast.

You are a gift, you know that?

Does that mean you’re going to eagerly unwrap me?

It’s too early for sentences like that.

It’s never too early for sentences like that.

How long until we land?

An hour and seventeen minutes.

Aren’t you getting tired?

I’m used to it, darling. Don’t worry about me.

 Darling. He actively tried to keep a stupid smile from taking over his face. An hour. An hour until he exited this plane…..through the front of the plane. The front of the plane where this man currently was. Fuck. He needed a lot more coffee, a toothbrush, and a mirror STAT. He looked down at his crumpled t-shirt and jogging pants and swore under his breath. Truthfully, Alec wasn’t even sure he would be seeing him in person when they landed. He hadn’t seen him when they boarded, and so maybe it would be a repeat of that. That thought was too disappointing for him though, so he pushed it away and set about righting himself, just in case.

He drank his coffee down as quickly as he could without burning his mouth. Then he wrapped his muffin up in the package and put it in his backpack, knowing there was no way his nervous early morning stomach would tolerate it. He grabbed his toiletry bag and rushed to the bathroom before the imminent announcement that they had to stay in their seats.

Once he was folded in the cramped space, he brushed his teeth and thanked God for his recent haircut in preparation for the wedding. He spent a few minutes mussing his hair up with his fingers and a bit of water before deciding it was about as good as it was going to get. He ran his hand over his face and decided the scruff there wasn’t too bad, not bad enough to shave in an airplane bathroom, at least.

He started to stretch and then abruptly stopped, self-conscious that people would notice and he’d be the subject of mile-high gossip once again. He returned to his seat feeling a bit more human and a lot more nervous.

Clary came walking down the aisle with purpose, smiled way too brightly at him for 7 a.m. and handed him a folded up slip of paper. He hesitantly took it with a polite, “Thanks,” and immediately opened it and read the elegant script.

Meet me up front, if you want , after everyone else has deplaned. 

~M.

If you want. He wasn’t sure he had ever wanted anything so much in his life.

Captain Garroway came over the intercom to let them know they were beginning their descent and Alec didn’t comprehend any of it. He put his seatbelt on when others around him did and  tried to stop bouncing his leg nervously. Maybe he had a little too much coffee.

Ten minutes later they landed in Rome without incident, and Alec unbuckled his seatbelt and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Why the hell was he so nervous? He watched as the other passengers gathered their belongings and exited at an agonizingly slow pace. Twice he got up and helped someone get a bag out of the compartment to hurry the process along. He tried really fucking hard to not compare the man across from him to a sloth, like a total asshole. Finally, when it got to his row he stood up and let the man and woman go by him. 

Once they had their stuff gathered, the woman unexpectedly turned to Alec and said, “I just have to know, are you some kind of celebrity or something?” 

Alec balked.

The man with her looked shocked as he nudged her. “Jules!”

She shrugged. “What? It’s kind of obvious.” She turned back to Alec. “Which movies are you in?”

Alec huffed out a laugh, “What? No…” 

He was relieved when her boyfriend tugged her along even if he was kind of amused at the last disbelieving look she shot him.

The last few rows went by without any more accusations of stardom, which Alec was very grateful for, and then Clary passed by him last, with a wink and a little wave. He groaned out loud and didn’t even feel bad for it. 

There was movement at the front of the plane from the crew and he forced himself to not focus on any of it, but instead he pulled his suitcase out of the overhead bin and threw his backpack over his shoulder. He started walking.

It all became too real when he saw Clary and Maia exit the plane behind the passengers. That wasn’t normal, was it? That definitely wasn’t normal. Jesus Christ, his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He got to first class and the other pilot, Garroway, was standing there in front of the cockpit door, his bag in hand. He shot Alec a smug, crooked smile and left the plane without a word. 

And then there he stood.

There he stood looking way more beautiful than anyone who had been working all night had any right to. His eyes were bright and kohl-rimmed, his features strong and beautiful even as he nervously rubbed the fingers of his left hand together. He really was a kind of perfect that Alec hadn’t even realized existed. He wanted to devour him.

Alec watched, a little stunned, as he stepped forward. Then, he tilted his head up in a challenge and parted his lips, and that was all it took. 

Alec abandoned his luggage right there in the aisle and went to him. He reached out with both hands, pressing one hand to his hip and grabbing his shirt with the other, pulling him into him. He kissed him hard, already drowning in the scent of him, the feel of him. 

They started stumbling backward, and Alec realized that he was throwing his weight around too much, but fucking hell, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t even think as he pressed their lips together over and over. He wanted it hard and fast, soft and slow, any and every way he could have him.

They stumbled through the door and into the back of the captain’s chair with an “oomph” and Alec opened his eyes briefly to drink him in.

 “Alec,” he said, his breath hot on Alec’s lips, eyes still closed.

“Magnus,” Alec said, stepping into him even more, closing the tiniest bit of space that was left between them. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Magnus opened his eyes and smiled at him. “Yes, I can feel that,” he said, rolling his hips against Alec’s.

“You haven’t felt anything yet,” Alec said, his voice gruff.

Magnus slid a hand between them, “Oh, this isn’t just anything,” he said, rubbing fingers down Alec’s length through his pants. He curled them under the waistband and tugged, causing Alec to go from half-hard to fully erect in no time flat. “I like these pants…….a lot.”

Alec rubbed circles on Magnus’ ribcage with his thumb to distract himself so he could manage to speak a coherent sentence. “They’re perfect for long flights.”

He nearly whimpered when Magnus retracted his hand, but somehow still managed to narrow his eyes at him. “Speaking of long flights,” he said, “I’m supposed to be mad at you.”

Magnus smiled at him. “Oh, really? Whatever did I do?”

At that moment he realized how much he had missed that. His smile, his cunning wit, the elegance with which he spoke, his humor. All of it. He had missed all of Magnus. Desperately. He couldn’t believe he even considered the notion that anyone he met on a hookup app would be enough.

He stepped back a little bit, trying to be serious, but he didn’t remove his hands from Magnus’ waist, because he wasn’t planning on going far, maybe ever. “Well, you were in the city where I live and you didn’t even call me,” he accused, trying not to sound too desperate and probably failing miserably.

Magnus’ eyes twinkled with mischief, which should have prepared Alec for what came next, but before he knew it Magnus had changed their positions, and Alec was being pushed back against the chair, with Magnus pressing up against him, chest to hip. He leaned in and whispered in Alec’s ear, “Mmmmmm, well, if you needed me to dick you down, all you had to do was say something.” He nibbled gently at his earlobe and Alec almost forgot how to move air.

Fucking hell, if that didn’t make him damn near want to beg. “This is me saying something.”

Magnus kissed his neck ever so lightly, which sent shivers all the way down his body. “Hmmmm, what exactly are you saying, darling?”

“Magnus,” he said, exasperated and damn near floating with desire. Or lack of oxygen. Probably both.

“Alexander,” he practically purred back.

That was the first time Alec had ever heard him say his full name and he hoped it wasn’t even close to the last time. He actually fucking whimpered, and that was when he decided this wasn’t the time to be stubborn. “I need you to dick me down,” he admitted, snaking a hand up and grabbing Magnus’ hair. He pulled his head back and away from his neck to get back some control, instead kissing him deeply, sliding his tongue into his mouth and languidly tasting him. 

Magnus moaned into his mouth and returned the kiss with equal intensity, before pulling away to answer him, grinding their hips together once more for good measure.

“With pleasure, if you promise to put that beautiful mouth of yours to good use.”

Alec’s whole body was singing at that promise. “Deal.” He looked around, thinking of logistics for all the things they were about to do, and then he was snapped back into the reality of exactly where they were.

“You’re a pilot,” he said, matter of fact, even if a little breathless.

“I am.” Magnus smiled. “Are you impressed?”

“Very, but what else is new?” Alec answered.

Magnus laughed, “I have to admit this is turning out most favorable for me as well.”

Alec looked around, “How long before you have to fly out again?” 

Magnus said, “A couple of days…ish.”

“Ish?” Alec asked.

“That’s what I said.”

“Can you come to my hotel later?” Alec asked.

Magnus bit his bottom lip, then grinned. “You aren’t even a little tempted to do it right here, Alec? It is a Cock-pit, after all. It’s right there in the name,” he whispered.

Alec smiled, “Wow.” Honestly, fuck him for being so sexy while delivering such outrageous lines.

Magnus laughed deeply, and Alec ran a large hand down his chest and pulled his shirt down to kiss what he could of his collar bone. “Believe me, I’m very, very tempted, but I want to get you completely naked, lay you out on a bed, and take my time with you. I’ve had enough of cramped spaces for a while.”

“How could I possibly argue with that logic?” Magnus asked.

“You can’t,” Alec said.

“Text me your hotel information and give me a couple of hours?” Magnus asked.

The “couple of hours” part had him rethinking the whole “fucking in the cockpit of this plane” business, but he pushed away from Magnus with Herculean effort and placed one last and lingering kiss to his lips. 

Alec forced himself to go back into the plane to collect his belongings, feeling Magnus’ eyes on him the whole way. When he passed by him again, Magnus was leaning against the door, a knowing smirk on his face. 

Alec gestured to Magnus’ uniform. “Are you going to be wearing this when you stop by?” He couldn’t resist asking.

Magnus’ eyes crinkled with his smile. “Ooh, does someone have a kink?” 

“Says the man who’s obsessed with my legs,” he countered, grinning back.

Magnus laughed, and Alec thought that it might very well be the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. “Get out of my airplane, Alexander.”

[olivay-official]

Red: The Untold Story of a Reluctant Hero

Synopsis: This is the story of Red, a normal college student with superpowers, though her friends call her Jay... and none of them know about the whole superpower thing. Sarcastic, chronically sleep-deprived, and always hungry she's the happy in-between of Deadpool and Spiderman that you never knew you needed!

Prologue: Oliver

I can say with confidence that one of the best and worst things to happen to me happened all in the same night. It's funny how something horrible can lead you to something… amazing.

It was the night I had met her. Our city’s own local superhero. Well, I guess superhero was kind of a stretch. No one really knew much about her and the media couldn’t figure out what to call her. She had a variety of names most of which seemed to pick out the color she always wore: Red. She was called a vigilante by some, a menace by others, it really depended on who you asked. The media often chose to report on her fashion choices rather than the actual criminals she helped put away. Her costume did, however, lack a certain flare you might find in a comic book or movie. She most often wore something you’d go to the gym in, though the colors were always consistent. There was only one resource of decent coverage on the superhero/vigilante, a blog called ‘The Red Underground’. It was the only real resource I had to go off of for what went on in the city. It exposed a lot of real stuff going on that the news hardly ever talked about including the Bone Crew, a nasty gang that the cops and media would rather pretend didn’t exist.

It was all of this that had led me to her.

I had been looking at colleges. It wasn’t so much that I even needed to go to college. My father already had a job lined up for me and I was more than capable of doing whatever I damn well pleased without taking the extra four years. But college to me had always been more about independence. A way to get out from my father’s overbearing thumb. I mean the guy meant well but there comes a time when a kid needs to get his own life and mine had been seriously lacking in the last 18 years. So I snuck out to visit a local college on the other side of town. I had even called and set up a damn tour for myself. 

The school itself wasn’t exceptionally impressive but the location was nice, close enough to home that my dad wouldn’t completely freak and far enough that I would need to get my own place. It was practically a dream come true.

The sun had gone down by the time I finally headed back home. In an effort to enjoy my newfound freedom I decided to walk home. I had hardly made it off campus when I noticed two men following me which wouldn’t have been alarming except for the fact that both men had skulls tattooed to their face. One man was completely bald the details of the skull printed across the shiny skin. The other had a notable crew cut with a strong fade- probably to show off the markings on the side of his skull. I could feel my heartbeat pick up and my palms begin to sweat. Not that I was particularly afraid of them but clearly their proximity wasn’t a good thing. I picked up my pace and noticed the immediate increase in their own. There wasn’t any doubt in my mind that they were following me. In an attempt to lose them I began taking quick turns onto streets I didn’t know very well- not my best move… I ended up making a poorly chosen turn into a dark alleyway. Turning quickly on my heel I ran straight into the two thugs blocking the entrance. I backed up slowly body tensing as it recalculated my fight or flight instinct. The two men smiled wickedly at me sharing a knowing look before pouncing into action. Their moves felt choreographed, the two moving in perfect sync both grabbing a shoulder and shoving me into the concrete wall. I grunted as my back slammed hard against the surface of the building.

“Now pretty boy why don’t you tell us where you keep your wallet?” The bald one hissed as he gripped the front of my shirt tighter. I felt the situation was a no brainer- give them the cash, what did an empty bank account matter when a cut throat was on the line?

“Right back pocket,” I answered dutifully. The bald man smiled as he reached his hand back to slide the leather wallet from my pocket. The man flipped it open greedily with the one hand.

“You got your cash, mind if I have some fun with this one?” Crew cut asked his partner all the while keeping his eyes steadily trained on me a dark glint in them making me swallow hard.

“Do what you want with him, not my type anyways,” Bald boy snickered. My eyes widened at his words, suddenly I didn’t think my cash was all they wanted… Crew cut pressed close to me a sinister grin playing on his lips. He slid something from his pocket and with a flip of his hand a blade was pressed to my throat.

“Try to fight me and I’ll slit your throat,” He cooed moving close to my ear. I could feel his other hand moving down my body. I was in a word: petrified. It’s never talked about, either because it doesn’t happen as often or because the victims are too afraid to admit what happened to them, I idly wondered if I would fall into this same category. After all it was either suffer the traumatic event and its lasting effects or lose my life. There was only one way to find out and I was quickly barreling towards one of the two options. I squeezed my eyes shut as if that could block out the horrors of what was to come.

“I have to admit, he does have a nice face but I don’t think that’s a good enough reason to excuse rape,” A girl’s voice sounded boisterously from above. I opened my eyes to find a small girl sitting on the lowest rung of the fire escape across from us. Her dainty feet dangled over the side as she surveyed the scene. Both men stood frozen staring angry daggers her way. My mouth hung open. This is the vigilante?! The girl was so much smaller than I had imagined. She looked to be about half my size maybe less. Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail and her clothes were tattered and stained with blood. Bruises speckled her skin even dotting her pretty round face. She grinned down at the men as she awaited their answer.

“Get out of here little girl before someone gets hurt, and believe me you don’t want that someone to be you,” Bald boy quipped.

“Let me just tell you how this is going to go, I’m going to kick your ass first because well that knife just has to go, and then I’m going to kick your ass while your rapey friend over here watches. And if you two are really lucky you’ll stay conscious through the whole ass kicking ordeal. Hell, I’ll even throw in a pretty black eye while I’m at it!” The girl taunted as she wistfully kicked her feet back and forth. She approached the entire situation more like it was a nice evening stroll with friends than a gang’s mugging and violation of humanity. The two men looked at each other with bewildered looks on their face before turning to the questionable hero with a snarl.

“I think what you need to do is shut-” Crew cut had turned his knife towards the girl but before he could finish his reply the girl had swung off the handle bars flying feet first through the small space. Her feet collided with the mans face knocking him into the concrete next to me with a sickening crack. The knife clattered to the ground. Her feet pushed off his skull and she flipped gracefully backward onto the ground in front of me. She gave me a wink before swiveling towards her next opponent already poised for his attack. He charged her, arms extended as if he were going to take her out by the legs. At the last second, she side stepped his move her hand bolting out to take Bald boy by his neck. Using his momentum against him she sent him headfirst into the concrete wall following his friend’s path on the collapse down. She dusted her hands off placing them on her hips and clicking her tongue.

“I so wish the two of you had stayed conscious long enough to see how pathetic you look,” She sighed before pulling a handful of zip ties from her pocket. I watched as she dragged the two bodies to a storm drain and promptly tied their hands, multiple times, to the railing. Finally turning back to me she smiled apologetically. She strolled over to me and picked my wallet up off the ground.

“I believe this is yours.” She offered me the worn leather wallet. I nodded and hesitantly took it from her. Her hands went back to rest on her hips as she regarded my state. Her eyes were striking, a bright gray I had never seen someone wear before, thickly rimmed with dark lashes.

“Any chance you know where the nearest phone booth is? I gotta call this in.” I blinked in surprise at her words- she was going to take care of everything for me- no statement from me whatsoever, and no chance my dad found out about this or anyone else for that matter (so maybe it really was that men were afraid to talk about being the victim). My previous assumption of her size had been correct, the girl stood nearly a foot shorter than me, and though fit verged on the thin side but that didn’t stop her from single-handedly kicking two guy’s asses as if it were nothing.

“I- I don’t,” I stammered out. The girl frowned a beautiful pair of full lips. Before I could stop myself I found my eyes surveying her. A colorful patch of purple marks about the size of a fist decorated her stomach, a few fading scrapes appeared along her chin and arms. She smirked as she observed where my gaze had gone.

“The rumors aren’t true,” She told me.

“Huh?” My face suddenly felt hot as I met her piercing gaze once more.

“I don’t starve myself, I just have a killer workout routine,” She chuckled and to my surprise I found myself releasing a nervous laugh alongside her. She nodded towards the alley’s opening.

“Try not to run into any more trouble on your way home,” She ordered me. I nodded following her instructions to the mouth of the alley. Before I could completely leave though I turned back around to face her.

“Hey-” I called voice uneven. Her head looked up from the crooks she had saved me from. “Thank you- for saving me,” I finished awkwardly. The girl grinned as she looked at me.

“It’s just what I do,” She said with a shrug but the smile didn’t leave her face. I found myself smiling as well.

It was then that I decided I would do anything I could to help her.

She was a hero.

Chapter 1: Red

Some might say I’m a superhero. Me? I prefer local badass but superhero is good too. And I guess I kind of was a superhero. I wore a mask and stopped crime. Hell, I could do things that shouldn’t be possible.

Yeah screw it I’m totally a superhero.

“Earth to Red, are you in there?” My tech whiz of a sidekick shouted in my ear.

“Yeah yeah I hear you,” I grumbled. He normally only communicated to me through an earpiece. He handled the details of crime-fighting so I wouldn’t have to. Don’t get me wrong the guy could kick some serious ass if he wanted to but it was a rare occasion for him to ever need to.

“Kind of a slow night,” Napster noted.

“Yeah it's boring-” I froze, body tensing as I heard a scream. Finally something good! I ran towards the sound. They were easy to find only two buildings over from the rooftop I had been perched on. A woman fought for her bag from a kid with a green mohawk. I smiled, it was almost too easy. Silently I slid down the drainpipe on the side of the building. On the ground lay your usual alleyway muck and trash. I opted for a sturdy glass bottle. Giving it a light toss it hit its target. Upon impact with his head, the boy let go of the bag and the woman took off running. The boy turned to me growling.

“Sorry man but that purse just totally clashed with that outfit,” I said leaning casually against the brick wall of the building.

The boy glowered at me and without a word his entire left arm morphed into a crystalized blade nearly the length of his body.

“Well, that’s… new,” I said trying to keep my mouth from hanging open.

“Holy shit!!”Napster shouted. Not helpful.

Blade boy came at me fast.

“You know just because you can give yourself a haircut,” I said ducking under his arm as he swung at me, “doesn’t mean that you should!”

The boy bared his teeth and took another literal stab at me. I jumped over his attack plowing my feet into his face and kicking off him. The force knocked him on his back as I did a backflip onto my feet.

“Uh, Red we might have a problem,” I heard Napster in my ear. I groaned in response.

Blade boy snarled as he scrambled to his feet. I scooped up a bent lead pipe off the ground. Taking my own swing this time I went for the arm and his galdamn arm cut through the pipe! He grinned at me. I did not care for that.

“The girl with the purse was working with him, they robbed a jewelry store two blocks over, the purse was full of the loot,” Napster told me.

“WHAT?!” I practically screeched. Distracted I didn’t move fast enough when Sparkles swung at me. A shallow slice split across my stomach.

“Ah!! Fuck- it must be a bitch to wipe with that thing!” I shouted. He sneered.

“Classy,” Napster commented.

“I’m busy can you just handle this?” I asked annoyed. In response, I heard Napster’s bike rev into the earpiece. Blade boy gave me a confused look.

“Voices in my head, they just demand to be heard,” I quipped with a shrug. The boy scowled.

“Don’t you ever hear voices?” I asked as I came at him swinging. He dodged easily and I nearly lost my hand when he came up to block my next punch.

“Fine don’t talk, I like the strong silent type anyways!” I took a couple of steps back and came at him running. He went for the attack but my target was lower. I let my body fall sliding clear under his crystalized blade and through his legs to the other side. I jumped to my feet running up the side of the brick wall to the top of the dumpster. One foot touching down I quickly pushed off crotch slamming into the side of his face as I used my forward momentum to twist and flip him onto his back. Disoriented, I took a moment to punch him in the face… hard.

The blade receded back into a human-looking arm as he fell unconscious.

“Strong silent type huh?” Napster chuckled as he appeared in the alley-way dragging the struggling woman behind him by her handcuffs.

“Better than street-naive tech geek. What the hell are you doing?” I asked eyeing the still very aware girl next to him.

“Well it seemed a little extreme to knock her out,” Napster snorted. Without hesitation, I punched the girl straight in the nose and she went limp, Napster caught her giving me an incredulous look.

“What, don’t tell me you’re afraid to hit a girl in this line of business. Besides if she started screaming someone could be dumb enough to let her go,” I told him.

“How are you going to tie him up. Zip ties aren’t going to work with that arm,” Napster asked as he half dragged the girl over to a drainpipe to secure her to.

“Yeah his arm looked like crystal, could probably cut through anything…. So I have to make sure he won’t want to use it.” I smiled to myself.

Five minutes and 48 zip ties later and I had successfully zip tied the boy's hands into his pants.

“See this is what happens when you try to shish-kabob someone- karma’s a bitch,” I said to the unconscious boy as I finished off the last zip tie. “Alright, Napster you can call it in to the cops. Let ‘em know about the whole arm thing if you can,” I said admiring my handiwork.

“Your problem-solving skills concern me,” Napster muttered.

“Well, he’s not cutting his way out now! This whole super-powered villain thing is getting out of hand. I don’t even know what the cops can do with this guy once they remove the zip ties,” I shook my head.

“Are you sure you can’t tell me more about how you got your powers? It could help me figure out where all these suped-up villains are coming from,” Napster said as I began pulling myself up onto the fire escape.

“You know everything you need to know about how I got my powers,” I said taking a look at him.

“That you have them?” Napster’s sarcastic tone was clear. His dark eyes sparkled with a hint of humor and curiosity as he looked at me. For a moment I wondered what he was like in the real world.

“Precisely!”

I climbed up the fire escape shaking my thoughts of Napster, it was about time for me to return to the real world as well and he had no place there for me.

[smilingformoney]

America’s Most Eligible 3 Diamond Scene: Cram Sesh with Jen

You: First impressions are crucial. I’ve gotta find Jen! Wrenn: Good luck, Jamie. I’ve got my fingers crossed for you.

You walk into the living room to find Jen chatting with Mackenzie, Derek, and Adam. Jen: I’m so nervous, I changed six times this morning! Derek: That’s… Mackenzie: Insane? Adam: A workout? Jen: I’ll take option C… All of the above. You: Glad to see I’m not the only one who’s nervous. Before we meet the parents, we should prep each other for what to expect. Jen: Count me in. Derek: If there’s a chance of finding out what makes you two tick, we want in. You: We’ll take all the help we can get. Let’s meet on the roof in five.

You, Jen, and your friends regroup on the roof. As you all settle in around the table, you turn to look at Jen. You: Okay… Tell me everything I need to know about your parents. Jen: Are you kidding? I wouldn’t know where to start! Mackenzie: How about the beginning? After all, Jamie’s gonna need to know your family inside and out if she’s gonna make a good impression. Adam: That might take a little longer than we have. Adam: You should start with how well you get along with them. Whether you see eye-to-eye can say a lot about a person. Derek: That’s a good idea, but this is also about making Jamie feel comfortable meeting them. What do you want to know, Jamie? You: As important as it is to know about Jen’s relationship with her family…

You: I really just wanna know… -Whether they approve of me.

You: Between the craziness in the mansion and the producers’ editing for drama, there’s no telling what they think! Jen: Everyone knows you can’t trust anything you see on TV. Nobody’s gonna judge you for that.

-How I can impress them.

You: Meeting the parents is hard enough without trying to appeal to a demographic. I need a cheat sheet! Derek: Hmm… I see your point. There’s gotta be some advice Jen can give you…

Mackenzie: Jen, you know your family better than any of us. What do you think Jamie should know about them? Jen: Uh… None of my uncles have pinky toes… You: Wait, what? Adam: As interesting as that is, I don’t think it’s gonna help Jamie today. Jen: I’m sorry. There’s so much I could say, I’m blanking on what’s need-to-know. Derek: What it help if Adam, Mackenzie, and I go first? It’ll give you an example of what’s important… Mackenzie: And Jamie can learn more about our families too. You: Works for me. Why don’t we start with…

Whose turn is it? -Mackenzie!

You: Tell me about your dad, Mackenzie. Is he as cool as your little sister Natalie? Mackenzie: Cooler. As cliché as it sounds, I’ve got the best dad in the world. Mackenzie: Right from the start, he never saw me as anything less than his daughter. He’s patient, easy to talk to, kind, selfless… Mackenzie: Basically everything my mother isn’t. You: Whoa… I’ve never heard you mention your mom, Mackenzie. Jen: On your audition reel, you said you grew up with a single father. Mackenzie: I did. My mom left us fifteen years ago. No note, no explanation, just an empty closet where her clothes should’ve been. Derek: That had to be terrible. Mackenzie: It was worse for Natalie. My dad was a mess, and she didn’t understand what was happening. I had to take care of everything. Adam: But you were just a kid! Mackenzie: That’s why he asked me to stop helping. He said it was like watching his worst fear come true. You: I can see why. It’s obvious…

You: He was worried you would… -Waste your life taking care of everything else. +BACKGROUND

You: You were just a kid! That’s an impressionable time to take on such a huge responsibility. Mackenzie: I thought handling it all alone made me strong, but my dad taught me that my constant strength helped everyone but me. Mackenzie: His favourite thing to say is, ‘Strength is for workhorses and machines. You’re only human, Mackenzie.’ You: Wise words.

-Flunk out of school. -BACKGROUND

You: There’s no way you’d have been able to do that and keep your grades up. You’d have never made it to law school! Mackenzie: I’m sure that crossed his mind, but I think he was more afraid I’d feel obligated to take care of him forever. You: Wow, Mackenzie. Were things that bad? Mackenzie: Bad enough that I’d gotten used to being strong for all of us. But my dad wanted to see me become more. Mackenzie: I think I got my determination from him. You: I’m sure you exceeded his expectations.

-Derek!

You: What’s the most important thing to know about your parents? Derek: Probably that they’re polar opposites. My dad’s a fun-loving, free spirit from Colorado… Derek: While my mom’s more of the practical type. She was born in Haiti and immigrated to the U.S. as a kid in the ‘70s. Mackenzie: That’s so cool! Jen: I’m sure it has its moments. Having immigrant parents can be complicated. Derek: I love having that connection to our culture, and I’ve even gone to visit where she grew up… Derek: But it made me realise how much she sacrificed for us to have the life that we do. Derek: Sometimes, I feel like anything less than success is letting her down. Adam: That’s a lot to put on one person. You: Especially when there are so many different types of success. Derek: not in her book. Doctor, lawyer, engineer… Those are the careers she wishes I’d join. Derek: And I’ve thought about it. I know it would make her happy, but…

You: But you… -Don’t want to pretend to be someone you’re not. +BACKGROUND

You: You may be an analytical genius, but I’ve seen your work. You belong in the arts, and you know it. Derek: I love my mom, and I know she just wants me to be stable, but living a rich and fulfilling life takes more than money. Derek: Sometimes, all I need is to good around with my friends. You: The best way to honour her sacrifice is with your happiness. Everything else will come.

-Don’t think you’d be good at it. -BACKGROUND

You: Those careers are prestigious for a reason. There’s no shame in admitting you’re not up for the challenge. Derek: I developed an algorithm that accurately predicts the next AME winner ninety-two percent of the time. I can handle the work. Derek: It’s just not who I am. I’m at my best when we’re hanging out and goofing off… not working eighty-hour weeks. You: Alright, smartypants. You have a point.

-Adam!

You: Give me the lowdown on Mama and Papa McIntyre. Adam: Well, their hearts are in the right place, but my parents are massive worrywarts. Adam: Though I guess that’s my fault. After the way Season 9 ended for me, I wasn’t really in the best headspace. Mackenzie: I don’t see how you could’ve been. Vince and Sierra’s plan was brutal. Jen: That was the night the Bad Boy of AME was born. Overnight, you were like a completely different person. Derek: I saw clips of your time in the Jury House. You were cold, man. You: If you became someone they didn’t recognise, that’s enough to make any parent worried. Adam: Once they saw how guarded the show made me, it turned them against reality TV. If they had their way, I’d have never stepped foot on set again. You: But you’re so much better now! You: If nothing else, AME showed you who your real friends are. They’ve gotta at least see that. Adam: I think it’s been hard getting that image of me out of their heads. Before, I was their perfect, loving son… Adam: Now, when they look at me…

You: All they can see is… -Their little boy. -BACKGROUND

You: Parents can have a hard time seeing their adult children as anything other than the kids they used to be. Adam: Not in this case. You guys weren’t the only ones chipping away at the wall I put up. My parents just never realised it had fallen. You: That has to be frustrating. Adam: They mean well. My dad actually suggested I should be more like you. He thinks you’re the perfect role model. You: Smart man.

-The wall you put up. +BACKGROUND

You: And it’s like they can’t get past it. Adam: Exactly. The way they look at me… I just feel like they’re waiting on the other shoe to drop. You: They aren’t going to hate me because you came back for the wedding… Are they? Adam: Not a chance. Before I left, my mom mentioned it would be good for me to be around someone as open as you. You: Then I’m glad to be of service.

Jen: Okay, I think I’ve got the hang of this. You: Perfect. So tell me… You: Were your parents strict growing up? Jen: That’s one word for it. My dad was in the military, so discipline and order were always the priority. Jen: He and my mom wanted the best for me, but living like that placed duty over fun. I always did what I had to, never what I wanted. Adam: That had to be tough. Derek: I can’t imagine having to toe the company line even as a kid. Jen: It’s part of why I wanted to be a flight attendant. We moved because someone said so. They flew because they were free to. Mackenzie: Not to mention you’d be in control of the snacks. You: when you put it like that, it sounds like a perfect fit. What changed? Jen: Everything. Jen’s eyes water, and her gaze falls to the floor. You watch her wipe away a tear and reach out to hold her hand. Jen: My dad was killed during his deployment, and after that, nothing was the same. My mom, especially. Jen: She stopped caring about my homework and encouraged me to do things I loved. It’s how I found producing. Jen: When I asked her why, she said losing my dad put everything into perspective.

You: Sounds like she wanted you to… -Love your work. -BACKGROUND

You: But I don’t think she meant for you to bring it home with you. Jen laughs through her tears. Jen: I think she just wanted me to see that there was more to life than work. Jen: I’ve always been passionate about every project I’ve taken on, and she wanted me to live life that same way. You: I think we can call that mission accomplished.

-Live life to the fullest. +BACKGROUND

You: You attack everything with pure passion, Jen She just wanted you to have a life that you were crazy about. You: I’m sure they both did. Jen: There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss him, but I know he’d be proud of me. You: One thing’s for sure… I know I am. Jen: Thanks, Jamie…

-Reclaim your childhood. -BACKGROUND

You: You said yourself you didn’t do the things you were passionate about. Maybe she thought it was time to change that. Jen: It was never about going back. We both realised the past was the past. My mom was just a different woman. Jen: Losing the love of her life made her realise we have as much of a duty to ourselves as to anyone else. You: That’s… one hell of a silver lining.

Jen: Now, if I could just convince my mom I’m not working too much, I’d be golden.

You: Jen… -I can’t believe I didn’t know that. +50

You: We’ve known each other for almost a year, and this is the first time you’ve ever mentioned any of that. Jen: There’s a lot of things we still don’t know about each other, but that’s the beauty of getting married. Jen: We’ve got the rest of our lives to learn them.

-Thank you for sharing that with me. +50

You: I know being vulnerable isn’t easy. I’m just happy you trust me enough to let me in. Jen: You’re gonna be my wife. I feel like I can tell you anything.

Derek: This has definitely been a bonding experience. You: I never would’ve guessed any of the things you guys told me. You play it pretty close to the vest. Mackenzie: You’re one to talk. You’re the biggest mystery of us all. You: Me? I’m an open book! Jen: I wouldn’t go that far. You’ve heard all about our families, and I don’t even know your mom’s name! You: That’s easy…

Her name is… [Name your mom]

Jen: Diana… Well, that’s one less thing to worry about. You: You have nothing to be afraid of. Once she sees how happy you make me, she’ll welcome you into the family with open arms. You: But if you really want to get on her good side…

You: You should… -Compliment her!

You: Whoever said that flattery could get you anywhere must’ve had my mom in mind. Jen: Time to turn up the charm. I’ll keep an eye out for just the right moment.

-Mind your manners!

You: My mom is a stickler for all things prim and proper. Jen: Good to know… I guess I’ll have to be on my best behaviour.

-Dote on me!

You: My mom has been spoiling me for years. She’ll want to make sure my future spouse can keep up the trend. Jen: Spoil you rotten… Got it!

The heavy metal door opens, and Wrenn pokes their head out. Wrenn: It’s showtime. Are you all ready? You: As ready as we’ll ever be.

[peachyteabuck]

fool outta me [bucky barnes x reader]

summary: bucky and you finally have a conversation about your feelings after you catch him getting jealous about your friendship with thor

pairing: bucky barnes x writer!reader

words: 2080

trigger warnings: some teeth rotting fluff. talk about personal insecurities. allusions to previous and future sexual contact without much specifics. mentions of an unspecified childhood trauma

notes/other: hi hello i know i’ve been writing a lot of fluff n stuff. i will get back to fics abt two or more ppl just fuking rawing each other soon. dw. 

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

You and Bucky have been dating for awhile. Not a long time, but awhile. You hadn’t officially moved in together yet (you still paid your half of the rent for your shitty apartment), but you still often slept in his room in the Tower. You’ve had sex, but had never gotten too adventurous. It’s good, Bucky and you are happy. You’re in love. No need to push it, no need to talk it further, no need to complicate things.

You’re sitting on the couch, reading some book about the gendered politics of crafting, when you hear a loud crash in the kitchen. The others are all in other places at far ends of the Tower, and you’re pretty sure Natasha went out to get coffee. But any of them in the kitchen on the common floor? Without you noticing? Nope. Not possible.

Good news is, you trust Tony enough to not allow some stray or burglar to come and kidnap you, so you decide to investigate. You keep your hardcover novel with you to act as a makeshift weapon...just in case.  You’re expecting a rat, or maybe some sort of ghost, possibly a dog no one thought to CC you on the email about - definitely not the god that’s been spooked by a a Nutribullet plastic container thingy that’s fallen from a poorly-stacked cabinet.

“Thor Odinson,” you groan, grabbing and gently placing the large smoothie-thing (oh god, what do you call those things anyway? Do they have names?) in the sink. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He looks sheepish as he explains. “Sorry, my lady. It looks like someone in this residence didn’t put…” he gestures to the object. “That away correctly.”

“It’s fine.” You half laugh, half sigh as you go to hug him. “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

Thor chuckles. “It has! Please, sit back down. I’ll be there in a minute and you can tell me everything I’ve missed!”

You smile, nodding and going back to your place on the extremely comfortable couch. Ever the gentleman, about two minutes later he hands you your favorite mug - a baby blue one with cursive gold lettering that says “flight” with little birds on it- with your favorite tea inside. It’s warm under your hands and provides a relief to the ache from holding the book.

“An apology - for scaring you like that,” Thor tells you as you blow lightly at the steam from the beverage.

Again, you smile. “Apology accepted.”

The conversation between you two flows beautifully. You two talk about this and that: about your writing and his kingly duties. About your new book deal and his universal travels. It seems ludicrous, comparing your lives. But he seems genuinely interested in your life - just as you are his.

Book long forgotten, it seems like hours later when Bucky enters the floor with Natasha and Sam in tow. They’re all chatting about some new upcoming training technique they’re going to try with some of the subordinates. Once they all see Thor, they greet him with the same grand gestures and loud voice they’ve always seemed to use with the equally grand and loud god.

Well, except Bucky. He greets only you and only you with his signature peck on the lips, sitting beside you and pulling you into his chest. He’s showered - thank Gods - and he smells like the body wash you bought him. The honeycomb is calming and comforting, much more so than sweat and adrenaline and whatever else got stuck to him.

“How was the workout?” You ask.

He shrugs when he answers. “Good - the usual.”

You roll your eyes. Bucky may not be able to see it with the angle you’re at, but he knows you’re doing it anyway. “Always so descriptive,” you tease. He smiles, welcoming your chide remarks.

Thor watches the pair of you. You can tell Bucky notices, but neither of you really say anything. He had a habit of staring at things while on Midgard, it became a habit after one-to-many all-too-forward inappropriate questions, mostly made while in public (Why does that woman have a metal bar through her ear? He asked in a coffee shop. Why would anyone want to build a bear, especially little children? He texted you when he went to the mall for a first time. Why does this text end in an eggplant? He questioned when he picked up your phone and accidentally read all of your notifications).

It’s no biggie - at least not to you, so you badger Natasha about her postponing a girls’ night. Bucky, though, doesn’t take his eyes off of the God. He watches Thor with his assassin’s precision, and you choose not to comment.

Soon, your conversation with Thor picks back up. The whole time, Bucky’s muscles occasionally tense. For awhile, you ignore it; You know better than to push anything, so you drop it from your mind for the time being. Later that night, though, you bring it to the surface again as you get dressed for bed and Bucky brushes his teeth.

“Sooo…” you begin, leaning on the doorway to the bathroom.

Bucky spits the black (charcoal was Steve’s new thing, and Bucky’s always willing to be his guinea pig) saliva into the sink. “What’s up, babe?”

You shrug, attempting to remain nonchalant. “What was with you while I was talking to Thor on the couch earlier this afternoon?”

Bucky immediately denies his actions. “Nothing, it was nothing.”

You scoff. “I’m a retired interrogator for the United States Navy. You can’t knock me off your path that easily...James.”

Oooooo, full first names are coming out now. This is getting serious.

Bucky scoffs, too. Yours was serious, though. The one he does is obviously an attempt to mock you. “And I was interrogated for like, seventy years. You can’t crack me that easily.”

You stare at him via the mirror, blank-faced. “Really, you’re pulling the Winter Soldier card?”

Bucky shrugs, finally wiping off his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You don’t budge, metaphorically and literally. “You’re deflecting and you know it.”

He just grumbles something unintelligible and brushes past you, huddling under the thick comforter on his side of the bed and turning off the lamp on his nightstand. Bucky’s acting like a small child who just got told he can’t go over to his friend’s house on Saturday because he has to get up early for Sunday mass. Luckily, the only more stubborn person on this Earth besides him (and Steve) is you.

Plus, you babysat until grad school: you know how to handle petulant children. You turn off the rest of the lights and snuggle into bed right beside him, curling your arms around his middle - just like he loves it. He’d never admit it, but James Buchanan Barnes (World’s longest serving POW, Winter Soldier, Veteran, Avenger) absolutely adores being the little spoon.

When he settles into you, you know you’ve got him right where you want him. “You know, if you don’t want to talk to me, I could just give Wanda the go-ahead to read your mind and spoil all of the pranks you were planning to play on Sam…”

He flips over and gasps. “You wouldn’t…”

“And I won’t!” You assure. “You just have to tell me how you feel.”

“Ugh,” Bucky exclaims dramatically. “Talking about emotions.”

You snort a little, kissing his warm, sweet-smelling shoulder. Damn, you really know how to pick a body wash.“You knew this was going to happen! My mom was a social worker, you can’t hide that part of me for long!”

He growls, then sighs. “Fine. But turn over.” You start to question him, but he cuts you off before a single sound can leave your lips. “I can’t have you looking at me while I say this.”

Listen, you bargain with yourself. You got him to open up! That’s great. Let him do it in his own way. Being the loving girlfriend you are, you flip over and face the wall.

It’s a few pregnant moments before he starts, but when he does - he can’t seem to stop. “Look, I know...listen. I was super like, sauve and stuff...pre-war and shit. Talk to Steve, he’ll tell ya. But being under mind control for a Nazi organization doesn’t really like, help your self-confidence, you know? When I met you, it was hard. I remember you, at that party. You looked...oh god, you looked so good in that velvet pantsuit. And those heels! When Natasha introduced us, I legit almost fell over,” it takes every ounce of all willpower you have not to giggle. You remember that day so vividly: how much your bra hurt, what the champagne tasted like, wanting to jump Bucky’s bones the minutes you saw him. Everything, you remember everything. “And then Natasha threw, like legit threw all of your books at me once we got home. And I read all of them. Several times. It was just...I remember I wrote down all of my favorite poems and like, read them every chance I could get. I just, you’re so articulate, the way you use your voice, the way you write. I was...floored. Still am. I just, you never cease to amaze me. And I remember the first time we slept together, and your dirty talking - god. I wanted to stop fucking you so I could write down everything you said. I’ve just never, I’ve never met anyone who could manipulate the English language like you can.”

You wipe a tear from your eye. God, what a fucking charmer. No wonder you let him get it on the first date.

“You’re so...like, you’re like some Greek statue. Carved from perfect marble and so precious. Sometimes I want to touch you make sure you’re real but I don’t want to smudge you, wreck your beauty. And I’ve always felt like...remember that poem, from your second poetry book. The one about trauma from your childhood?”

You sniffle. That poem, that’s the one he talked to you about on your first date. Normally you felt so uncomfortable when people complimented you, but with Bucky it felt so natural. “That my trauma felt like the jagged edge of a rock at the bottom of the pond; ever present but with no exact location until it was too late.”

Bucky picks up, still facing away from you. “Yeah, I just...I never thought anyone so fucking amazing could love someone like me. It felt like you were a shooting star that somehow fell in love with some stupid cliff’s edge, or some other shitty rock or something. I don’t know. I just...I’m worried that you’ll see me like I see me, and Thor is like...the hottest person ever. He’s just as bright as you are...at least, I don’t know, I remember you and him talking about your writing’s allusions to mythology and I had no fucking idea what you were talking about and I just...I don’t know. I love you, I love you so much, and I’m trying everyday to prove that to you. But I just, I’m not sure how to do that properly, so sometimes I-”

You don’t allow him to finish his sentence. You surge forward, your salty tears mixing with his as you kiss him. Bucky kisses back without hesitation. Both of you are reluctant to pull away, but oxygen cares not one bit about how in love two people are.

“I think dating a writer rubbed off on you,” you whisper, lips still almost touching his. “Because those words...fuck. If you keep talking to me like that, we’ll never be able to leave this bed again.”

He laughs, deep and husky. “What can I say, I’m a changed man. First the loofah and that body wash, then the yoga, now this…”

You bark out laughter, then sigh happily. “If Thor would make you crack like this I would’ve invited him to Midgard a long time ago…”

Bucky jabs his fingers into your side, tickling you. “Don’t even joke about that! I’m trying to be tender here, and this is how you treat me?”

You kiss him again, smiling. “Aw, my love. How ever will I make it up to you?”

He taps his finger to his chin for a moment, then flips you over so that he’s on top of you. “Oh, I think I have a few ideas…”

[steadilyunbalanced]

I wish someone warned me about the overstimulation that comes with motherhood.

You hear about the roller coaster of emotions that come with each phase of motherhood. The sleepless nights, baby’s first smile, the anxiety around feeding (no matter how you choose to feed). 

The list goes on. 

I experienced so many firsts at the same time as my baby; it’s as if I also experienced a rebirth of myself into my new identity, “mom”. And while I expected the emotions, no one told me about the overstimulation- how your brain can never turn off because you’re constantly either being needed, tending to your work, taking care of the household, making time for your marriage. 

The list goes on. 

Even after you separate from it all to go take a bath or do yoga, you hear the baby fussing or the dog barking or your phone pinging. Did I switch the laundry? Did I hit send on that email? Are we out of coffee creamer?

The list goes on.

For the first time, I’ve struggled with this balancing act. I’m naturally an extrovert, defined by how I receive energy. I like to be social, talk, go out to meet up with friends, or teach a workout class. Before having my baby, these were all things that filled my cup. However, now my needs have changed and it took me over 6 months to not only realize this but adapt my day to day life to accommodate that change. I felt as though between the hours of 6am and 8pm I never stopped going. After work during the evening my husband would frequently ask “what’s wrong?” because I was silent, which is so unlike me. And while nothing was wrong, I needed quiet alone time and I never made time for that, even when he gave me the space to do so.

One of my core values is to fill your cup before filling others, I know it might sound a little selfish. It reminds me of when a flight attendant instructs you to put your oxygen mask on before helping others in case of an emergency during a flight. I truly believe that if you are not finding time for yourself to restore and recharge, you’re pouring from an empty cup. How can I expect to be a great mom, wife, colleague, sister, daughter, friend, yoga instructor, etc if I’m giving everyone around me the scraps of myself? It just doesn’t work. 

And it didn’t. After trying to maintain the same lifestyle as I did pre-baby, I quickly spiraled into a burn out. I was exhausted and needed to go to bed at 8pm to feel somewhat okay to get up at 6am and do it all again. All of my workouts had to be reserved for teaching yoga or barre to others because I simply could not manage more than 2 workouts a week without breaking down. Things I used to enjoy, like cooking dinner or going for walks, or doing an XOXO Cody peloton ride now seemed like a chore. 

On top of this, I felt immense guilt anytime I set time aside for myself. My mind would race with things I “should” be doing instead- playing with James, walking the dog, unloading the dishwasher, meal planning. 

The list goes on.

It was a constant tug-o-war between giving myself space to fill my cup and balancing all of my other responsibilities. 

And then the feeling of failure set in. How can I not handle this? What’s wrong with me?

I had to take a step back and reanalyze what gave me energy so I could prioritize those things, even if it meant not doing something for someone else. I reached out to other moms to understand if they struggled with this, and sure enough they did. I didn’t feel so alone. 

While I’m still actively working on this massive shift in how I live my life, certain things are helping.. 

I am taking a step back from teaching fitness. I made a goal to myself to focus more on my yoga practice this year and commit time to my mat three times a week. Teaching was taking that from me. 

I’m trying to wake up 30 minutes earlier to sit in silence with my coffee and a book. It doesn’t happen everyday because some days I decide the extra 30 minutes of sleep is more important to my day than alone time, and that’s okay too. 

I’m writing again. Getting the endless lists and thoughts and feelings out on paper. It not only helps me and is something I enjoy, but maybe I can help someone else too. Maybe another mom reading this will find solitude and soften their shoulders realizing they don’t have to carry all this weight silently and alone. 

I have a practice that I use frequently when I’m feeling overwhelmed with emotions. Someone told me about this during my yoga teacher training and I truly believe it is how I’ve been able to get through some of my hardest days. 

Close your eyes and imagine you’re hosting a dinner table. Each seat is reserved for your feelings, and as they fill you, welcome them to have a seat. Hello sadness, hi anger. Hey, excitement. Hello fear. Seat each emotion until you’ve felt all that you have to feel. With your eyes remaining closed, look around your table. Welcome each seat, each emotion to join you for dinner. When you realize that having these feelings is okay, when you welcome each one and accept it for what it is, you can find some peace and move forward. 

Hello overstimulation, welcome. 

- J

[gingerandwry]

On Becoming Unemployed and What Comes Next

Yet again, it’s been a LONG time since my last entry. But now that I’m unemployed-- and possibly looking for a career change-- I have more time and purpose for writing. I also have time for travel, which is what has prompted this writerly re-emergence. First a bit of back story….

I had been very dissatisfied with my job (digital music business development) for quite some time. The work itself was fine, but I was given too little of it, so I was extremely bored most of the time. When I found out that a couple friends would be getting married in Brazil this March, it seemed like a good excuse to quit and spend some time traveling. I wasn’t quite ready to make that leap tho so I booked a shorter trip to Brazil, along with a long weekend in Mexico City in January.

Then, rather suddenly, my company laid me off in mid-November, 10 days before my 39th birthday. The timing was poor (no warning, at the start of winter) but it was the push I had been waiting for. I immediately decided to travel for a while before figuring out what to do next. I booked a trip to NYC a few weeks later, extended my Mexico and Brazil trips and planned a road trip around the southern US in between. What better way to start the last year of my 30s?

New York was, as always, wonderful. The weeks before Christmas are the only time I enjoy the cold there, as the whole city dresses up for the holidays. But I didn’t really do anything. After a late start in the morning, I would venture out and walk around a bit before it got dark (at 4), then meet a friend for dinner and go home to watch TV. So basically what I would have been doing at home, only more expensive. So while I enjoyed my time there, I left feeling like I did not use it to the fullest.

How did that happen? I told myself that I’ve spent so much time in New York that I didn’t feel compelled to run around seeing everything I’ve already seen. But the truth was buried deeper. For one, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more homebound and less adventurous, more put out by the annoyances of travel and less enamored of its pleasures. Also, to my surprise, I was pretty stressed out-- and still am as evidenced by my inability to sleep through the night since I was laid off. And the wee-hour insomnia led me to sleep in late, which cut into my daytime tourism. To my credit, I toss and turn to a wide breadth of subjects:

Career

What do I want to do? Not tech, not anymore. But what else can I do in SF? Do I need to go back to school? Could I? How long will it take me to find a job? How much savings will I blow through until then? How will I adjust to a new job?

Health

Being unemployed and traveling makes it too easy to slip into bad habits. How do I motivate to ensure I still workout every day? And don’t drink too much? Or smoke? And eat healthy in Mexico and the South? I can feel myself getting flabbier….

Travel

What am I thinking doing all this travel? What’s even the point? Six weeks in Brazil, really? Two in Rio? It’s supposed to be really dangerous there, and I don’t speak three words of Portuguese. Can I handle all that driving around the South? Will I be as self-destructive as my last road trip? No matter where I go or how long I stay away, eventually I will need to come home to my lonely apartment and look for a job….

Birthday

This should not be a source of stress but it is. Almost all of my (childless) friends marked their 40ths with big parties and/or trips, and I feel like I need to do the same. I want to, but it’s so much planning, it just feels like a chore. Can I put on a good party? At what cost? And would anyone come on a trip with me? My friends are mostly partnered and busy often. The fact that I need to do all this planning by myself makes it feel like more of a burden and, combined with the uncertain attendance, makes me question if it’s worthwhile….

Love

This actually doesn’t stress me out much. I just don’t think it’s going to happen for me. So not stressful, but bleak.

At least I’m busy thinking while I’m not sleeping. Obviously some of these issues are bigger than this blog, but my focus now-- and one area that I have some control over-- is travel. It helps that I finalized all my plans and booked all my flights and accommodations. What keeps me up at night is questioning if all this travel is a good idea. It sounds like a great idea, but is it right for me now? Will I grow from it? Will I enjoy it? Or will I just go through the paces and count the days until I can get back to my own bed? I don’t know how many more opportunities like this I’ll have, especially while I’m (relatively) young. Will I turn my days into experiences or will they just pass?

And so my thoughts turned to my friend David, a slightly older, very well-traveled and self-aware friend of mine. (Incidentally David lives in NYC, and my visit happened to coincide with his birthday, so I got to go to his party which was one of my more fulfilling experiences on that trip. AND he’s married to a Brazilian.) David is fleshing out a concept called “Intentional Travel” (™, I assume). The idea is that the purpose-driven life doesn’t stop when you go on vacation. Life is more fulfilling and productive when you live with intent, and this applies to travel. It might apply even more actually. Whatever your reasons for travel-- relaxing, visiting cousins, trying new food, seeing where Lord Of The Rings was filmed-- do it with intention, and it will be a better experience.

I visited NYC without intent. And that’s kind of OK because it’s like a second home to me. But I can’t squander my other travels like I did that week. So now, in between vaccinations and AirBnB searches, I need to figure out what exactly I want to gain from my travels. Why am I leaving the comfort of my couch, going through the hassle of planning itineraries, digging into my savings, putting off my fitness goals, risking car crashes and muggings, learning a bit of Portuguese and putting my career on hold? What is my intention?

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Getting Along

Request: Could you do a Jensen x Reader where the Reader puts an ad for a new roommate. Jensen calls and the Reader accepts, but later regrets it because all they do is bicker and fight over mundane things so she tries to annoy him so he can move out?

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 1,700ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Life tip, don’t be an ass to your roommate if you ever have one. Talk stuff out like adults...

“Hello?” you said, walking over to your computer the second you picked up the phone. Hopefully this one would be an okay fit.

“Hi. I’m Jensen and I saw your ad for a roommate? I was staying at my friend’s place but he’s back in town so I’m looking to get in somewhere fast,” he said.

“Um, I’m not sure how comfortable I am with a male roommate,” you said. 

“Oh, the ad didn’t specify,” he said. “Should I just hang up at this point or-”

“Did you send me your credit score? And a W-2?” you asked, looking through your emails.

“Well, if we’re roommates then I have to prove I’m going to split the rent somehow, right?” he asked.

“Your occupation says you’re an actor,” you said. He hummed and you cocked your head, reading through the rest of his application. “I want two months of your share of the rent upfront.”

“That seems fair. The guy thing doesn’t bother you now?” he asked.

“Meet me in the lobby in an hour. We’ll see if it does or not.”

“You’re all settled in?” you asked, Jensen pouring a glass of water for himself in the kitchen.

“Yeah. It’s mostly clothes. I don’t need a lot. I’m only here for about nine months a year and go home as often as I can so I won’t be in your hair too much,” he said.

“Well, I like this apartment but can’t afford it on my own. The view is to die for,” you said, Jensen nodding his head.

“You can see the harbor from here. I got work early so I think I’m going to call it a night. Goodnight Y/N,” he said with a friendly smile.

“Goodnight Jensen.”

“Oh my fucking...” you said as you sat up in bed, glaring at your door as you finally heard the apartment door open and shut. “You noisy mother...”

You knew his schedule was a little unique. He’d been upfront about that at the start. You just hoped with a few subtle hints he’d get with the program that not everyone in the house had to wake up at 5:30 for work.

“Um, Y/N?” asked Jensen on Sunday night, just as you were heading into your room for the night. He’d gotten home ten minutes ago, waking you up from where you’d fallen asleep on the couch. You’d already decided no way in hell were you going to figure out when he would and wouldn’t be home.

“Yeah?” you asked, rubbing your eye, trying to make him get on with it.

“I don’t want to sound crass or anything but you, uh, could you not use up all the hot water? Or turn up the TV so loud at night? My room’s right on the other side and I’m normally pretty beat by the time I get home,” he said.

“Excuse me?” you said, his arms crossing as he squinted. “How about you learn to be quieter in the morning and at night and to not eat my freaking Ben and Jerry’s. I have stressful days too ya know.”

“Alright. We’ll both be quiter and try to be more respectful of our shared spaces, agreed?” he said.

“Fine with me,” you said, heading to your room without saying goodnight.

The next morning when you woke up to him banging around in the kitchen you nearly lost it.

“Dude! I said quiet! I have the day off and I kind of wanted to sleep in,” you said, Jensen cocking his head.

“I think you’re being a little melodramatic, Y/N. I was being quiet, just like you asked,” he said.

“You don’t even need to cook breakfast. You get it for free at work,” you said. 

“Well I don’t have work until noon today so I have to make it myself,” he said. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” you said. Jensen put the pan down he was about to use and took a deep breath. “Be quieter.”

“Buy some damn ear plugs. It’s not my fault you’re a light sleeper,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and went back to bed, shoving your pillow over your head to try and fall back asleep. He was loud, ate whatever was in the fridge without question as to who it belonged to, took over the living room anytime he was home and had a tendency to blare his workout music at all hours of the day.As he fussed about again, you felt yourself getting more and more annoyed before it hit you. 

You just had to annoy him back until he decided he wanted out.

“Y/N,” said Jensen a few days later. “We don’t have any hot water. Again.”

“Do I look like a plumber?” you asked, glancing up from your book you were reading on the couch.

“Can you please try to save me some hot water from now on? I’m having a hard week and I’d like to be able to come home and relax a little,” he said. 

“Sure thing Jensen,” you said, flipping the page.

The next night when he got home, you figured he was going to flip out when there wasn’t any hot water. Maybe he’d yell a little, just enough where it’d be awkward from then on out and he’d want to move out and fast. But him plopping down on the couch, staring blankly out the dark window at the harbor was not at all what you were expecting.

“I asked you to save me some water,” he said quietly.

“Slipped my mind. Sorry,” you said, glancing up to look at him properly for the first time in days. He looked exhausted. His eyes were a little red and puffy but he gave no other indication that he’d gotten upset. “Are you alright?”

“It’s just a really hard episode we’re filming this week. The last scene tonight was rough,” he said quietly again, not bothering to look at you. “I know you don’t like me. I’ll move out if you want but give me a couple days.”

“Alright, Jensen. I can do that,” you said.

The next night when Jensen got home late, close to nine, you knew you’d broken your number one ground rule. He didn’t go in your room, you didn’t go in his. But you had to in order to leave him his gift.

You stayed in your room that night, hearing a light knock about an hour later before you told him it was alright to come in.

“Hey,” he said, running his hand through his damp hair. “Thanks for the hot water...and the girly spa stuff. It uh, helped.”

“You’re welcome,” you said. “You’ve got a nice jetted jub in there. You should use it.”

“Thanks for making me dinner too,” he said. “It tasted really good.”

“You’re tired, it’s fine,” you said, Jensen nodding his head, pulling out a few sheets of paper from behind his back. “I don’t know what your budget is but those all have nice harbor views. If you still want to move out that is.”

“Don’t you want me to move out?” he asked.

“Not really. I don’t want you to feel shitty because of me either. Yesterday you just looked so tired. I know you’re filming some hard stuff or something right now and you want to come home and forget about it but I just piled onto it and I’m sorry for that, Jensen,” you said.

“I...could have been quieter. I’m used to living alone. Or I could at least try to give you a heads up of when I’ll be in and out more,” he said.

“You aren’t a bad roommate. You have a steady job, you don’t smoke, you have one or two beers a night at most, you pay and are tidy. Maybe we both just need to figure out how to live with another person again,” you said.

“I’d like to try if you’re willing to,” he said. You gave him a friendly smile and he nodded his head. “Maybe we can even be friends.”

“I’d like that. You look better with a smile Jensen,” you said. He rolled his eyes but laughed. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Hey, Y/N, we got leftover pizza and wings in the fridge if you want some,” said Jensen when you walked home after work on Friday. You took off your shoes and peered over at the couch to spot another person sitting there. “This is Jared. I hope you don’t mind I invited a friend over.”

“No, that’s cool,” you said. “He’s the other guy in the show, right?”

“That’s me,” he said, standing up.

“Holy crap and I thought Jensen was tall,” you said, eyes wide. 

“We can’t all be so blessed,” said Jared. “You guys worked out your problems I see? Jensen thoguht he was going to have to crash on my couch for the next month.”

“We came to a compromise,” you said. “Treating each other more like friends really helps.”

“Sure does. I’m even allowed her ice cream with permision now,” said Jensen.

“Oh, don’t let him turn you into putty in his hands, Y/N. You got to make him work for it a little,” said Jared.

“Work for what?” you asked, Jensen shrugging, just as confused as you.

“You’ll figure it out eventually,” said Jared. “So, Jay, when you inviting Y/N to a con? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the excuse for a free vacation.”

“Jared, we’re friends but we’re not quite ready to be taking vacations with each other,” you said. “Right Jensen?”

“We barely can handle three hours a day in the same apartment. A whole weekend might kill us both,” said Jensen.

“Uh huh,” said Jared, slapping Jensen on the back. “I got to run and catch my flight. It was nice meeting you Y/N. I hope I see more of you around.”

“You too Jared,” you said, Jensen making faces as Jared’s back as he left. “He’s funny.”

“He’s a little shit, that’s what he is. Sorry, he gets so easily excited. Think of the biggest puppy you’ve ever met in your life and that’s him,” said Jensen.

“No worries. I got free pizza after all,” you said. “Although would hanging out for a weekend really kill you? I thought we were trying to get to know each other.”

“I don’t have any plans for this one if you want to hang out,” he said. “Or not, that’s cool too.”

“We could go out tomorrow night, do something fun?” you asked.

“Sure. It sounds like a date.”

@baconlover001 @jensenackesl @captainemwinchester @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @anokhi07 @akshi8278 @fandom--shipper

@zeusmyster @atc74 @aingealcethlenn @pillow223 @alilianamendez @dancingalone21 @smoothdogsgirl @docharleythegeekqueen @blushingdean @ayeeitsemry @jaelami @roxyspearing @kickasscas67 @gallifreyansass @untitled39887 @charliebradbury1104 @quiddy-writes @arryn-nyxx @poukothenerd @feelmyroarrrr @mrsbatesmotel53 @idalinette @evyiione @jayankles @samisimportant @maddieburcham1 @demonic-meatball @hey-um-misha @flufy07 @its-not-a-tulpa @whit85-blog @mrswhozeewhatsis @extreme-supernatural-lover @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @spn-ficfanatic

[talabib]

How To Improve Your Time Management Skills

Modern life is full of time thieves. Whether it’s your phone buzzing in your pocket with the latest tweet, a colleague interrupting you in the middle of an important task or the daily barrage of emails, your time is constantly being stolen from you, minute by minute, hour by hour. And once you’ve lost that time, you can never get it back again.

To remain focused and make sure these time thieves don’t get the upper hand, you need to keep a few tricks up your sleeve.

Here are a few ways to improve your time management skills

Do you ever wish you could have an extra hour in the day to read, exercise or hang out with the people you love? Well, you can and there’s no magic required! But first, you need to understand how precious time is.

That’s why the first secret of time management is learning that time is your most valuable asset and that, once it’s lost, you can never get it back. A good way to monitor this precious resource is by breaking it down. For instance, there are 1,440 minutes in a day, each of which should be invested wisely.

To remind yourself of this fact, you can tape a” 1,440” poster to your office door. It would remind you of the limited time in each day. But why use minutes? Why not think about the 86,400 seconds that every day offers?

Well, there are a bunch of daily tasks that you can actually do in a minute, like knocking out 30 sit-ups, reading a poem or watering a plant. This fact makes minutes key to monitoring your time.

Okay, now that you appreciate how valuable time is, it’s time to start prioritizing it. This is where the second secret comes in: determine and prioritize your most important task, or your MIT. This is the single task that will have the biggest impact on your life or work.

Just take Therese Macan, a professor at the University of Missouri-St Louis. She found that one of the most important productivity determinants is the ability to identify priorities. So pinpointing an MIT is central to time management.

For instance, if a senior executive sets a goal of developing a new app, her MIT might be to hire a new programmer. Or the MIT for a start-up CEO could be to prepare a great presentation to land a major investment. Research has shown that having a daily MIT, whatever it is, results in greater levels of happiness and improved focus.

Never-ending to-do lists weigh down lots of people. Take a look at yours. How many of the tasks have been lingering there for weeks, unnecessarily stressing you out?

You probably have at least a few such tasks, and the best way to deal with them is by pulling out a good old fashioned calendar. Here’s where the third secret comes into play: ditch your to-do list and pick up your calendar to de-stress your day.

Research has found that an average of 41 percent of items on to-do lists never actually get completed. One of the reasons for this shocking statistic is that a note stating how long it’ll take to complete them usually doesn’t accompany the tasks on such lists. As a result, tasks that are more difficult or less important generally get left undone.

That might not be such a problem, except for the fact that the unfinished items on your to-do list will inevitably produce a lot of stress that could just as easily be avoided. In fact, researchers from Florida State University discovered that you can avoid this stress by simply coming up with a plan to complete a task.

The Olympic gymnast Shannon Miller offers a good example. She succeeded at spending time with her family, completing her school obligations, training for the Olympics and even doing media interviews, all by scheduling time for important tasks.

This strategy is known as time blocking or time boxing and, incredibly, all it requires is maintaining a detailed calendar. By doing so, Miller forced herself to prioritize tasks that would bring her closer to achieving her goal and, to this day, she keeps an almost minute-by-minute schedule.

However, you’ll inevitably encounter tasks on your calendar that you can’t accomplish. When this happens, instead of letting them drift into the past, simply reschedule. For example, if you usually make it to the gym at noon, but have a flight to catch at the same time, simply move your workout to earlier in the day.

Everyone’s been there: an important deadline is creeping up and, instead of working on the project at hand, you’re planted in front of a screen – scrolling through Facebook, texting a friend or watching your favorite TV show. Procrastination is a tough one, but, luckily, there are strategies to break free from it and start getting things done.

This is where the fourth secret comes in: procrastination can be overcome by imagining your future self. After all, you don’t procrastinate because you're lazy, but because you don’t have sufficient motivation. Imagining yourself in the future can fix this problem and it’s as simple as asking yourself two questions: “What pleasure will I get by doing this thing?” and “What pain will I feel if I don’t do it?”

For instance, if your goal is to work out every single day, but you can’t get yourself to exercise, just imagine having a huge beer belly and feeling totally sluggish. Such a mental routine will get you off the couch and onto the treadmill.

At the same time, being honest about the actions your future self will take can also help you achieve your goals. For example, if you know you’ll be inclined to eat unhealthy snacks during a future break, you can protect yourself by throwing out all the junk food in your house. You could even go a step further by filling the house with healthy options like baby carrots and hummus.

From there, you can move on to the fifth secret: there will always be more to do; you can’t do everything. And, actually, that’s fine!

In fact, prioritizing and scheduling the tasks you want to do is much more valuable than crossing off as many items as possible. Just take President George W. Bush as an example. He knew there would always be more to do. So instead of trying to do everything, he made it his priority to read tons of books, since he found it therapeutic and educational. As a result, he read some 95 titles during his presidency!

Have you ever had an incredible idea while shopping for groceries or walking the dog? Wouldn’t it be great if, instead of straining to remember it later, you could just jot it down right then and there?

That’s why the sixth secret is to always have a notebook handy. After all, writing down your thoughts helps you hold onto them. Virgin Group founder Sir Richard Branson says he never would have built his business empire without his trusty notebook.

He was so committed to writing down his ideas that, one time when he had a business idea and no notebook, he wrote down the thought in his passport! For him, if an idea doesn’t get written down, it could be lost forever.

Taking notes by hand also helps your memory. For instance, the psychologists Pam Mueller and Daniel Oppenheimer found that students who hand wrote their notes during a TED talk were better able to recall the material than students who took notes on their laptops.

Writing down your thoughts is crucial – as is maintaining control over your schedule, which is where the seventh secret comes into play. It says that you should avoid checking your email too often, lest other people dictate how you spend your time.

In fact, contrary to popular belief, constantly checking emails is unproductive. That’s because the anticipation felt when checking your inbox is comparable to pulling the handle of a slot machine. Often, you check your messages, and there’s nothing new. But sometimes there is a new message. This unpredictability is addictive, and one begins to check more and more often, hoping for the hit of dopamine that a message affords. Obviously, this costs you time and interrupts your focus.

A good way to untether yourself from your email is by unsubscribing from newsletters by using a program like unroll.me. But you can also adopt the 321-Zero system. To do so, just limit yourself to three email checks per day, while trying to get your inbox to zero in just 21 minutes.

If you’ve ever had an office job, you know how incredibly boring meetings can be. But that’s not the only problem with meetings. The eighth secret is that most meetings are inefficient and you should only schedule them as a last resort.

In fact, a 2015 survey found that 35 percent of respondents considered weekly status meetings to be a waste of time, for these two primary reasons:

First, in accordance with Parkinson’s law of triviality, meeting participants tend to waste lots of time on insignificant issues. Second, extroverts usually dominate meetings, making others less likely to participate. As a result, valuable information might not be shared during such gatherings.

That being said, if you absolutely have to have a meeting, opt for a stand-up affair rather than a sit-down one. This might seem odd, but researchers at Washington University found that meetings during which participants stand result in better collaboration, less attachment to ideas, higher levels of engagement and more effective problem-solving.

The Yahoo CEO, Marissa Mayer, offers another good tip: by scheduling meetings based on increments of five or ten minutes, she’s able to have up to 70 meetings a week. If she stuck with the standard 30-minute block she would never be able to accomplish this.

In other words, controlling the timing of meetings will prevent people from sucking up your time. This is key since other people will constantly ask you for things, a fact that dovetails nicely with the ninth secret: achieve your immediate goals faster by saying no to most things.

After all, every time you say yes to something, you’re saying no to something else. The Olympic rower Sara Hendershot is a good example. She’s a pro at saying no to social and other engagements. This hard-learned skill enabled her to keep her eyes on the prize in the lead up to the 2012 Olympics in Rio, where she qualified for the finals.

As a cherry on top, research has even found that people who tend to say no in response to requests for their time are happier and have more energy. 

By now you know that it’s essential to spend your limited time on tasks that will have the greatest impact. The tenth secret can help you do that. It says that by applying the Pareto Principle you can uncover shortcuts to success. Here’s what that means:

In the 1890s, the Italian philosopher and economist Vilfredo Federico Damaso Pareto found that 20 percent of the pea plants in his garden produced 80 percent of his healthy peapods. He extrapolated this 80/20 rule into the general principle that now bears his name. It can be applied to a number of areas.

For instance, by applying the 80/20 rule to your employees, you might decide that the majority of your salespeople should be let go since they’re your lowest performers. From there, you could focus your energy on the remaining 20 percent, who already generate 80 percent of your sales, by giving them rewards and greater levels of support. The end result will likely be an overall improvement in sales.

Or you could use the 80/20 rule in your personal life by analyzing the tasks you do on a weekly basis, then identifying which of them has the greatest impact.

That being said, you can also accomplish more by critically assessing the tasks in front of you. The eleventh secret is designed to help you do that. It says that leveraging your skills and delegating work will increase your productivity. Just take a 2013 experiment published in the Harvard Business Review by the professors Julian Birkinshaw and Jordan Cohen. It found that 43 percent of workers were unsatisfied with the tasks they do at work.

By simply training employees to slow down and ask themselves a few questions, the study’s authors were able to identify important tasks, freeing up an extra eight hours per week. The first question they had people ask themselves was, “How important is this task to the company?” Then, “Is there anyone else who can complete it?” And finally, “How could this task be accomplished if I had half as much time?”

On a normal day in the office, do you ever have difficulty focusing? Most people do and a little bit of advice here can go a long way. This is the twelfth secret, which says that grouping your work into recurring themes each week will make you more effective.

A great example comes from Jack Dorsey, the co-founder of Twitter and founder of Square. He says that the secret to running both his companies was to have a theme for each day. For instance, on Mondays, he would focus on management; Wednesdays would be dedicated to marketing; and Sunday would be reserved for reflection, feedback and strategy for the next week.

Or take the entrepreneurial coach Dan Sullivan. He recommends theming each week based on three types of days to stay focused and remain invigorated. The first type is called a focus day, which is for vital activities like revenue-growing tasks. The second type is called a buffer day, which is for catching up on emails, returning calls, having meetings, delegating tasks and doing paperwork. And finally, a free day is one on which no work should be done. This last type is reserved for vacation, family time and charity work.

Another simple way to boost your efficiency has to do with tackling small tasks. This is the thirteenth secret, which says that you should immediately take action on tasks that’ll take fewer than five minutes to accomplish and avoid returning to the same task over and over.

Just consider the straight-A student Nihar Suthar. He completes five-minute assignments right away, avoiding a long list of tiny tasks.

Or take Jeff. His sister Debbie recently emailed him, but instead of writing her back, he called her to make sure they could talk. By scheduling a call in his calendar and thereby saving the mental energy he would otherwise spend trying to remember to get back to her, he decided to handle this task immediately. If he had instead put it on a to-do list or left it in his inbox, he probably would have never remembered to address it.

Imagine waking up at six in the morning, working out for 45 minutes and then whipping together a delicious, high-protein breakfast. It might sound difficult but the fourteenth secret shows why it’s essential. It says that dedicating the first hour of each day to a morning routine will enhance your health – mind, body and soul. In fact, starting the day with a workout is a great way to get your creative juices flowing.

Just consider the New York Times best-selling author Dan Miller, who starts off each day by meditating for half an hour, then working out for 45 minutes while listening to audio programs. He avoids checking the news or looking at his phone during this time, devoting his first hour to positive and inspirational experiences. He even claims that his most creative ideas come to him during this daily “me time.”

From there, you can further increase your energy and well-being by eating a healthy breakfast and drinking lots of water. This is huge for the best-selling author and podcast host Shawn Stevenson. He considers energy to be everything, and so he starts off each day with what he calls an inner bath. He simply drinks 30 ounces of purified water to jumpstart his metabolism by flushing out waste.

In fact, according to the fifteenth secret, energy is paramount. The secret is that productivity isn’t about time, but about maintaining focus and energy.

That’s why Francesco Cirillo came up with the Pomodoro Technique – a method designed to reduce distractions and boost productivity. His approach involves setting a timer for 25 minutes, devoting your full attention to a single task for the full 25 minutes and then taking a five-minute break before repeating the cycle.

Author Monica Leonelle found ample success with the Pomodoro Technique after realizing that she didn’t have a single spare hour in the day. By using the Pomodoro Technique, she recharged during her breaks, maintaining steady energy throughout the day and, with the help of other techniques, went from writing 600 words per hour to 3,500!

Highly successful people consider time to be their most valuable asset. By applying their most effective life hacks – which do everything from prioritizing tasks to boosting your energy and keeping you focused – you too can make the most of your time.

[rationalsanskar]

How to Achieve Mindfulness Without Having to Actually Meditate

In 1977, Roald Dahl published a lesser-known collection of short stories called The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six . The titular tale is about a beleaguered British billionaire who finds peace (and eventually, fantastical powers) by learning to calm his brain with a variety of techniques. One such method involves focusing intensely on a single image in the brain for a long period of time.

In the book, Sugar manages to picture an orange for more than 10 minutes. I can remember putting my dog-eared copy down and trying my best to do the same. When that failed after eight or nine hopeless seconds, I thought of apples, blueberries, pears. No luck. Each time, memories from earlier in the week or stresses about the upcoming one managed to invade my brain and tear me from the moment.

Fast-forward a couple decades, and whenever I try to sit down tomeditate — yoga mat, dimly lit room, relaxing music, a scented candle or two — I still think of this failed fourth-grade experiment. Formal attempts at proper, popular meditation often end prematurely for me, with my mind whirring like the wheel of death on an old Dell desktop. I think about interviews I have to schedule, flights I have to book, contact lenses I have to order. Eventually, I call it, thinking Damn, didn’t work. After these “failures” I’m less likely to attempt meditation again; ironically, I now associate the practice with stress.

This isn’t uncommon. According to a 2016 study, only 12% of American adults practice meditation, a number that nonetheless represents a 50% increase from earlier in the decade. That uptick has coincided with an ever-growing wellness industry that includes functional exercise, apps and products that encourage embracing the present, from mat Pilates to Calm to the Wave meditation system.

But that number’s still low, and the difficulty surrounding the practice is a prevailing reason why. In order to achieve mindfulness — the practice of paying attention to one’s thoughts and sensations in a particular moment — people assume they need to first create a perfect environment. Noise at a minimum, pleasant scents and legs crossed, with enlightenment just a few deep breaths out of reach. This line of thinking, though, ascribes too much importance to the activity. It’s self-defeating, like punching a pillow in anger while trying to fall asleep. Traditional meditation may indeed work well for many, but if it doesn’t do it for you, there are other ways to achieve mindfulness.

Think of activities in your life that erase hours from the clock. The ones you look forward to, or perhaps the ones you don’t think much about at all. They come, they go, but by the end of it all you feel measurably more relaxed. These activities can be considered “backdoors” to mindfulness. They’re inherently meditative, because you derive the same benefits from them that might come from 10 good minutes spent picturing an orange.

Below, we’ve assembled seven different activities that have been known to universally encourage elements of mindfulness. Importantly, we chose pursuits that an overwhelming majority of human beings can participate in at the drop of a hat. Surfing big waves, practicing magic tricks or playing the French horn may help you achieve mindfulness, and walking a dog may get you there too (assuming you’ve got one), but these examples are inclusive and easily incorporated into the mornings, afternoons and evenings of just about anyone.

Cooking

The future of on-demand food ordering is absolutely insane: the industry is projected to rake in a whopping $365 billion in revenue by 2030. Why? Millennials buy fewer groceries than older generations, and devote just 13 minutes a day to meal prep. I can identify. Three nights a week, I’ll bring some sort of $13 grab-and-go market bowl back for dinner. I often think of it as a chore handled, and an opportunity to watch TV the second I enter my apartment, fork shoved firmly into my mouth as I do. But I’ve noticed that on days I cook up a meal, however simple (I’m a big fan of shrimp mixed with rice and veggies), I’m able to go on a rare, much-appreciated, end-of-day autopilot. Heat the pan, prepare the rice, wash the veggies, cut and season the shrimp — I’ll generally perform these tasks with music on, while talking to my roommate or in silence, the only sound the gentle sizzle of the cooking food.

There’s an exact phrase for this experience: behavioral activation. It refers to a positive activity that necessitates presence of mind. Cooking requires decisions from your brain, motor skills from your body and an end goal that can fill your brain with a feeling of accomplishment. Plus, cutting and tearing are proven methods for handling a tough day, while the recipes can be both comforting and expected, or unusual and creative. Either way, they demand your attention, and will keep you looking at the pan, instead of your emails.

Water Therapy

The restorative effects of cold-water immersion are well-documented at this point. From ice baths to plunge pools to Scottish showers, the practice has near magical benefits for the body. It catalyzes post-workout recovery, staves off injury, lowers blood pressure, increases metabolic rate and stimulates the immune system. But there is mindfulness in freezing your butt off, too, believe it or not. You’re outside in nature, for starters, which we know does wonders for mental health. And cold water encourages the release of neurotransmitters like dopamine, adrenaline, norepinephrine and serotonin, all of which have anti-depressive effects.

I jumped into the North Sea a few days ago, when air temperatures were hovering around 30°F, and can assure you that I wasn’t thinking about anything but exactly how my body felt in that exact moment. It hijacks your afternoon, in a good way; I took a long, hot shower afterwards, and then felt alert and alive for a good six hours. On the other, less-Bear-Grylls end of the spectrum, lounging into warm water or having a bath at the end of the day are other forms of highly effective “water therapy” which should march you one step closer to mindfulness.

Journaling

According to a team of researchers from Princeton University and UCLA, those who take notes on computers are less likely to summarize and retain information than those who take notes with their hands. The study (and others like it) has long been cited as a reason to save handwriting: save a lost art while boosting our memory! But handwriting’s effectiveness also extends into the realm of another mindful activity: journaling. A nightly commitment to putting pen on paper will add special significance to your days; what’s remembered as banal or unspectacular two months later might’ve actually been exciting or unusual at the time, and you’ll have the notes to prove it. On top of making you a better handwriter, it will make you a better writer, period, and it will happen in an arena that’s rhythm, old-timey and devoid of stress-inducing blue light. In case you have no desire to catalogue your own life — find writing prompts online. Scribble nonsense. Sometimes, when I finish writing for 10 minutes or so, I wake up as if from a drunken trance. It’s a lovely feeling.

Adult Recess

When you’re a kid, there are times that your parents, needing an afternoon to wash dishes, pay bills and do other real-world-things, will order you to “go play.” It’s a typical childhood exultation, and from a young age, we oblige. We pick up branches and have stick fights. We “run the bases.” We invent games on trampolines and whack each other with styrofoam noodles. But somewhere along the way, play stops. For some medical professionals, the lack of play among adults is public health issue. Dr. Stuart Brown, who founded the National Institute for Play, explains that play is instrumental to optimism and self-motivation, while fostering a sense of belonging and community with others.

Unfortunately, it’s long been difficult for the average individual to find play in the adult world — let alone the heaping helping of mindfulness it delivers. Adults are an insular bunch, and those that do join groups often do so for competition. (Think: weekend warriors in intramural leagues.) But in the last few years, more groups have come about that prioritize the relaxation involved with simply running around. From DC to San Francisco to Greensboro, more cities are starting “adult recess” leagues, where the stakes are low and you’re free to think about nothing but throwing or kicking a ball for 90 minutes — with drinks often on the docket afterward.

Running

I’ve written about my return to running in the last couple months, after a six-year break. For years, I associated the activity with stress, expectation and pre-race nervous pees, but my recent reentry to the tribe has been calm and easy. I feel an appreciation now for the ways in which both pain (mile repeats on a track along Manhattan’s East River) and wonder (tripping up snow-covered hills on the outskirts of Edinburgh) seem to remove me entirely from the world of 9-5. I don’t need a scientific study to confirm the inherent meditative qualities of running, though there are many. Runs with destinations, runs that meander, runs desperate to hit a certain time — they’re all about the sweaty, heaving present. That state of being is usually a struggle, but it can be euphoric, and that’s why we do it. You should do it, too.

Live Music

A massive trend in the mindfulness space is the composition of music specifically geared for achieving calm. They can be lovely, and I can mellow into them easily, but they’re often too ethereal and not very sustainable. Who can listen to that stuff for 45 minutes? I contend that mindfulness can also be found in the General Admission section at a concert, or in a booth at an Irish pub that brings some Van Morrison sound-alike out every Tuesday evening. Live music is effortless presence of mind, especially when we leave our phones in our pockets. It represents a deviation from the norm (very few of us experience live music every day), which heightens the importance of the moment and your concentration relative to other earthly concerns. And it often rewards your ossicles with a series of mini-eargasms, which is nice.

Home and Garden

One of the surest signs that you’ve become an adult — aside from a strange desire to receive socks over the holidays — is that you actually enjoy performing household chores. I get giddy when I have a solid two hours to push my vacuum around, make the kitchen sparkle and point a hose at the gutters. Similar to the behavioral activation associated with cooking, busying about a home or apartment offers tasks and results, concentration and satisfaction. They’re an exhilarating change of pace from the mind-numbing practices of day-to-day work in a sedentary society. After a week of sitting at a computer, I will gladly Lysol the hell out of a coffee table. And I can’t remember ever thinking about much while I’m doing it. Not to mention — there are endless opportunities to personalize and perfect a space, from DIY projects to caring for plants, that will also transport you to a relaxing place far, far away.

The post How to Achieve Mindfulness Without Having to Actually Meditate appeared first on InsideHook.

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[steamishot]

End of August

My work out routine and relationship kinda both took hits this past week as I’m PMSing. I’ve been feeling more fatigued and therefore haven’t been in the mood to work out (as I read my old post it sounds like I was so enthusiastic). Instead of using dumbbells, I recently did more cardio and did dance workouts which are actually quite fun. It forces me to move my body quickly and tests my range of motions.

Work has been dead, I feel less productive and bored. I like the work that I do, I just don’t like the confinement of office job. I listened to a podcast about bullshit jobs recently- jobs that if the employee suddenly disappears the next day, there wouldn’t be a difference. Apparently a lot of office workers and corporate lawyers feel this way. Our system has grown to be more extensive and complicated, to create unnecessary jobs for our population and to make seemingly easy tasks harder to reach so there could be a middleman (new job). I feel like my job is only important during some seasons of the year. Also discussed in the podcast is how there’s uncertainty in employees to be open about the amount of free time to colleagues and superiors. I don’t talk about what I actually do (or don’t do) at work to most people, just my close work friends. There’s also that struggle of needing to “look busy” without actually dedicating time to what you would actually be doing if no one was around. More exciting things at work to look forward to are: tomorrow’s meeting about resident union agreement, and program coordinators retreat.

A stranger messaged me yesterday on LinkedIn because she saw that I completed a UX/UI course at UCLA and she wanted to get my opinions on it. I stalked her profile and saw that she graduated college a year after I did, and has been in a similar Admin Assistant path while dabbling in other fields. And similar to me, she reached out to a few people and researched as much as she could to see if the class would be worth it and prepare her for a career change. I told her simply, you get what you put into it. During the time my course ended was the time I was learning a lot of new things at work. I ended up choosing HR. Now that It’s slowing down, I’m getting back to UX/UI and coding. I looked at some of my classmates’ LinkedIn profiles to see where they’re at. I think 2 or 3 have good UX/UI related jobs now. The other ones who I thought were more skilled, are still doing freelance. So then I thought, it’s the ones who are good looking and are confident who get ahead, and the whole “fake it til you make it” is real. After being in slow paced office jobs for most of my working career, I definitely feel like I don’t belong with real professionals. I realize that the less productive I feel at work, the less competent, intelligent and skilled I also feel. At this point, I’m almost scared of productivity and contribution in a career because of how different it is.

This led me to listen to an ABG podcast about imposter syndrome, both in professional and personal lives. The hosts are three yuppie Asian American females in high/high-ish paying jobs. One of them is actually in UX/UI as well. They noted that at least 75% of people experience this, and it’s more common or felt more heavily in females. I think Asians who also grow up with the notion of never being enough or always having to improve are also prone to this. They also tied imposter syndrome to dating life, as one of the girls mentioned she questioned why this well sought after guy back in college wanted to date her. She also spoke about struggles of not being as gorgeous as other girls so she makes up for it by doing well in her career and in personality and hanging out with other smart and attractive women. One new term I learned was cheerleader effect/group attractiveness effect, meaning if you are in a group of attractive girls, you’re most likely regarded as attractive too (until they single you out and see that you’re actually not as hot LOL).

I’ve also been listening to hey bitch podcast by the girls from the JK family. They’re more crude and funnier and talk about things without filters- which reminds me of how the ladies at my workplace can be. It’s nice because I feel like I have a funny and empowering group of female friends to accompany me on my drive home to work/home. Their perspectives are also drastically different as they come from various backgrounds, so I enjoy that as well- instead of listening to just other Asian girls talk lol.

So, I’m okay at HTML and CSS for the most part. I recently started watching ilovecoding videos by this guy named Aziz. So far he’s been really great at explaining concepts and the bigger picture of how to even begin/which field to concentrate on. He emphasized that JS can be applied to multiple fields to I thought I should start there. I bought a JS book to learn on my own, which will be arriving today. I bought an iMac that will also be arriving today, since I don’t like coding on my 13 inch laptop.

It took a weekend and a fight on each day (Fri-Sun) to get here, but Matt and I finally booked our flights for our November trip. We decided on London (4 nights) and Amsterdam (2 nights). Again, that combination of me PMSing and him being stressed out is not good. However, he’s becoming more and more stressed out than he was as he has a test this week and a bigger all day test next week for which he hasn’t really studied for. He became really moody and “bipolar” at times. He took his stress out on me when things didn’t go his way. We both felt that we do more for the relationship than the other. He talked about it in relative terms because the amount of effort he puts in given his schedule/lack of time and energy is tenfold. However, he admits that in absolute terms, I probably do more. We also take each other for granted in ways we don’t really know about. He tends to initiate more (calls, facetime), drive the conversation more, introduce crazy, future-oriented ideas like moving in together and overseas traveling. I think if a car symbolized our relationship, he handles the wheel, and I keep the engine going. On Friday night after our talk, he didn’t text me to tell me goodnight which he always does (via phone or text). I realized then that these little things (keeping me up to date when he gets off work, going home, going to sleep, etc) are thought and care on his part that I take for granted.

I also realized that he doesn’t talk to anybody the way he talks to me. He only texts his friends back at home sometimes, and only talks to family about practical things. He doesn’t hang out with anyone outside of the hospital. Literally. So I think at least 60-70% of his socializing (outside of professional interaction) is with me. I think it’s reached a point of concern because he doesn’t really have a way to destress with other humans (or by himself) and I have to end up eating his stress. And it can’t be all on me, as I can’t offer that much over the phone either. We’re here to navigate residency together. He’s currently 2 months in. His dad said simply “don’t worry, you’ll get adjusted in 6 months”. Even with residency application related things, he asks me for help. For example, headshots and requesting letters of recommendations. I can look online for advice and try my best to help, but I’m also thinking like “you’re asking the wrong person”. Luckily, I email with a lot of residents/doctors at my job so I have an idea of what they’re like. Too easily, I would be like, “why don’t you ask your co-resident/doctor friends?”, to which he says “oh yeah” but doesn’t actually do I think because he respects their time and thinks asking them for help will be a nuisance (which may be true).

September will be a busy month for fun. Upcoming events include:

-          Mammoth Lakes/Yosemite

-          Hearst Castle family trip

-          Cambodia town film festival

-          Paint night at a friend’s place

-          New York

-          Alive & Running 5k

-          Jimmy O’Yang stand up comedy show

[captainoftherollyjoger]

Flight: Chapter 9

Cuteness, job interviews, and girls night! Check, check, check!

Thanks for all the support guys!!

I’m sorry I don’t have any of the fanfiction sites guys, I’m looking into it. I’ve put links on a separate page on my Tumblr, it’s under Fanfictions!

@thatwolfbookgirl, @followbatb, @kmomof4, @hollyethecurious 

Prologue : Chapter One : Chapter Two : Chapter Three : Chapter Four : Chapter Five : Chapter Six : Chapter Seven : Chapter Eight : Chapter Nine : Chapter Ten : Chapter Eleven : Epilogue

   On the Monday, Killian had heard from the sixth form. He had an interview that Wednesday. His leg was still pretty bad, but if he explained why he was limping so badly. They would understand. He hated the crutches and only used them when he left the house. He was annoyed he couldn't shower, he had to bath all the time with his leg over it. Emma was helping him, but he missed being able to walk the dog properly and run about with the kids.

  He was sat on the couch preparing himself for his interview. He only had two and a half years teaching experience in England, albeit at a rough school in London. But he hadn't taught A Level before. He taught only six months in America as he couldn't be bothered with it. He preferred the docks in New York. His leg was propped on the table and Roger was resting his head near on the couch. Emma had gone for a run which she had started again recently, so he was watching Henry in his playpen. He was playing with some crayons, he tipped them all out and kept putting them back in the pot. He kept doing it repeatedly. Whatever kept the lad happy.

   Emma came through the door, her music blaring through her headphones. She was wearing some running pants and a grey t-shirt. She had quite a sweat on and went straight for a drink. She came behind him and kissed his cheek.

  “Emma, you stink.” He chuckled. “Good workout?”

  “Not as fit as I used to be. I didn't have chance when it was just me.” She looked at his laptop. Pacman was open. “That's not going to get you a job now, is it?” She giggled. “Here, it's time to do your leg.”

  She bathed it gently. The skin was healing nicely, but it was delicate, it would definitely leave a nasty scar. The bruising had come out on his ankle, but he was having less trouble with it, he was wearing shorts which made her job easier, it also allowed more air get to it. She wrapped it up and kissed his knee.

  “I’m going grabbing a shower.” He pulled her onto him and held her like a baby. “Get off me. I stink.” She giggled.

   “Not that badly.” He nuzzled her.

  “Stop. I feel gross. I need a shower. I don't want to cover you in sweat.”

   “It’s not like I haven't made you sweat before.” He laughed.

   “Mama.” Called Henry.

   “I’m needed.” She walked over to him. “What's up, bud?” He tipped all the crayons and showed her him putting them all back. “Wow. Well done.”

  “He's been doing that for an hour.” Chuckled Killian.

  “He's impressed with himself.” She picked him up and kissed him. “Are you going to give Killian lots of kisses. Help him feel better?” She plonked him down on Killian's knee. He picked him up and kissed his cheek lots of little times. He squealed and laughed.

  “I feel a lot better. Thank you, Henry.” He smiled. He sat him on his knee and played with his hand. “Round and round the garden, like a teddy bear. One step, two step. A tickle under there.” Killian tickled Henry's stomach and he kicked about and laughed.

   “You're too adorable. Give me ten minutes.”

  Emma returned from the bedroom. She was freshly showered and wearing some skinny jeans and a white jumper. She'd dried her hair which was now in a ponytail.

  “What are you doing for the rest of the day, love? It's only two.”

  “I have a bit more work to do. I have some free time though.” She sat beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. They watched TV and he traced idle circles on her thigh. They ended up lying on the couch, snuggled up.

  “Henry's fallen asleep.” She whispered. “I’m going to put him to bed. Then maybe we can have a nap of our own.” She smiled.

  “A nap?” He kissed her neck. “Or a nap?” He chuckled.

  “Why don't you go to our bedroom and maybe you’ll find out.” She smirked.

  She put Henry down for a nap and walked to her bedroom. Though Killian wasn't in the bed, or the room. She felt him come behind her.

  “I believe this is for you.” He smiled, handing her a rose.

  “Where did you get that from?” He giggled.

  “I never reveal my secrets. Now,” He pushed her back until her knees hit the bed. “What kind of nap are you offering me?” She fell back and he leant over her. He kissed her neck and she giggled.

  “I just want a cuddle.”

  “Mm. What about what I want?”

  “Well, what do you want?” She smirked. His hands slid up her shirt.

  “I think that's pretty obvious, don't you? I want to get every moment I can with you.” He pressed into her, then winced as he caught his leg.

  “Oh, be careful.” They stopped and she pulled him up to their pillows. “Maybe we should save it, until you're better.”

  “I don't want to save it.” A small smirk appeared again. “I want you now. Don't you want me, Swan?” He was back on top of her, she was giggling.

 “I just don't want you to get hurt.”

 “Well, you're currently breaking my heart. So, I am getting hurt. Come on, love. Relax.” He lifted her jumper off her. He kissed her lips and she smiled, but then deepened it.

  “Killian.” She moaned, she grabbed his shirt and ripped it from him. “Slow down.” He did try. He trailed kisses to her neck down to her collar. She ran her fingers through his hair. His hands went to the button of her jeans.

  “Do you still want me to rest?” He asked, looking up at her. She shook her head. “Are you sure? We could just have a cuddle.” She pulled him up and flipped them over. Her mouth went to his neck, then up to his jaw.

  “I mean if you insist on wanting a cuddle.” She teased, her hands went to his waistband. “I think you would prefer this though.”

  “You’re right, Emma, don't stop.” She didn't.

  Killian cuddled Emma from behind and intertwined their fingers. She was in and out of sleep and he kept placing little kisses on her neck. They had the quilt right up to their necks with more blankets to keep them snug. Her hair smelled fresh after her shower, and her skin had the scent of coconut. He would stay here forever with her, given the choice. She sighed deeply and pushed herself into him more.

  “What time is it?”

  “Three, love. I reckon Henry will sleep for another hour yet, if you want round two.” He chuckled. “If you can handle it, that is.”

  “I know I can, you can't. That isn't a challenge. I’m just content. Just keep cuddling me.”

  She heard him start humming into her and closed her eyes.

   It was Wednesday. Time for his interview. Emma had put fresh bandages on his leg and dosed him up on plenty of painkillers. He was dressed in a blue suit with his hair neater than usual. Emma drove him to the sixth form and parked up in the car park. She got out of the car with him. It was summer holidays so the sixth form was really quiet. Only a few teachers were about, but no students.

  “Right, so you have your mock lesson?”

  “Yes.”

  “You have your CV?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your certificates?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your confidence?”

  “Mostly.”

  “A big smile?”

  He forced an awkward smile on his face and showed her his teeth.

  “A sense of humour. Check.” She giggled. “Now just one more thing.” She took his face in her hands and leaned up to kiss him. “Good luck.”

  “Thank you. I… I appreciate it.” He smiled, nervously.

  He turned around and she tapped his backside. “Go get ‘em.”

  “Oh, Emma. Naughty girl.” He looked back and blew her a kiss.

  She watched him limp up the steps and now time would tell.

  Forty five minutes later he returned. She watched him limp over to the car, he had his head down. Two girls giggled at him as he walked past. Was it his limp? Or his good looks? She knew what school girls were like. He opened the passenger door and got in.

  “So?”

  “Yes?”

  “How did it go, Jones?”

  “My interview went well, and the mock lesson went well. The students were nice enough. There were a concerns from the students about my leg, but I explained to them about the match. All the girls seemed a bit red.” He said, his eyebrows knitting together.

  “It’s because you're handsome. Especially with that suit on you. Why don't we get you home and out of it. I think it would also look good on our floor.”

  “I like the sound of that plan. They said they would tell me by the end of the week if I got the job.”

   It was Saturday night. Emma was sitting on her bed in her underwear, planning on what to wear for the girls night. She was a bit reluctant about going, she didn't know them that well, apart from Elsa. She was in the bedroom looking at different outfits. What would make a good impression? They were all going to Belle’s house whilst Will was away. She was the only one without a child in her house.

  Killian came in with Henry, he could walk a lot better for short distances, but the bandages were still on and he couldn't shower yet. He was still stuck to bathing everyday. “You’re mummy's going having some fun tonight. So it's just me and you.” He smiled, kissing the boys neck. “Are you going to miss her? I am.” Henry just hugged Killian's neck.

  “I can pull out. If you need me here.” She reached up and kissed him. “I don't mind.” She was praying for him to ask her not to leave.

  “Don't be ridiculous. Go and have some fun. You know I’m in safe hands with this little one looking after me. You’ve walked Roger, cooked dinner, done some work. Go and enjoy yourself. I’ll give Henry a bath, we’ll read a book, watch a film. Then I’ll be waiting for you. Don't come home too early though, just enjoy.”

  “I don't even know what to wear. I hardly know them.”

  “Wear this.” He handed her a plaid shirt.

  “Killian, that's your shirt I picked up off the floor earlier.” She wasn't impressed.

  “Oh, so it is. Why don't you go like that?” He suggested. “I know the lads would be impressed… hopefully jealous.” He smirked into her neck but she didn't give him the satisfaction of laughing. How she wanted to stay here and be with him.

  “You’re wasting my time. Get lost.”

  Emma arrived at Belle’s house. She took a bottle of wine over and some chocolate for Mary Margaret, it was only fair. They welcomed her in.

  “Emma, you look lovely.” Smiled Elsa. “How is everything?”

  They all sat around a table and chatted about everything and anything. Sometimes the men, and their ridiculousness. They also chatted about work and the latest films.

  “So, Emma. What made you fall for Mr Tight Pants?” asked Regina. “Not just what we've heard. But what do you like about him?”

  She felt uncomfortable with them all looking at her, ready to spill the gossip.

  “Urm. I guess his sense of humour is something I really like. He's just genuine.”

  “So, not the looks?”

  “I mean, he's obviously very handsome. But I would say that is just a bonus of him. Plus, his family are lovely.” She smiled at Elsa.

  “Have you said you love him yet?” Asked Mary Margaret. That was just like her. All fairytales.

  “Urm. No. I haven't.”

  “But you do love him, right?” She questioned.

  “I’m not sure. I don't rush into it.”

  “You must know.” She smiled.

  “M&M.” Said Elsa. It was a warning for her to calm down. “Not everyone has had a fairytale marriage like you.”

  “I’m sorry. It's just, I really want Killian to be happy. He's been through a lot.”

  “We haven't spoke much about it. He’ll tell me eventually. Maybe.” He hadn't told her much, if anything about his time in America. She knew about his childhood, but that was it.

  “When do your work commitments finish here?” Asked Belle.

  “January.”

  “You mean you're leaving?” Asked Regina. “Is Killian leaving?”

  “No. He isn't. I’m still thinking about it. Whatever is best for Henry.”

  “We should move on. It's a girls night, not an interview.” Said Elsa. Emma looked at her appreciatively and Elsa nodded at her.

  “I have a question for people. What is the one thing you would change on your man if you had the choice?” Asked Regina. It was clear she liked a gossip and to get to the root of people.

  They all refused and said nothing but she knew they were lying.

  “Fine. I’ll go first. I would change Robin’s love for watching any sport he can find on TV. I don't mind football or tennis, but he watches like weird foreign sports if he can't find anything else.” She admitted. The girls seemed to get into it.

  “Will’s ability to unlock the bathroom door. He always sneaks in. It's nice some of the time, but it's all the time. I never get a rest.” She laughed.

  “David always leaves his shoes where I don't see them and I trip all the time. He's got better now I’m pregnant again, but I’m more cautious too.” The women laughed. Emma was surprised. They had all been with their men for so long, she had only been with Killian for five weeks.

  “Liam always seems to be really competitive. I'd certainly tone that down.”

 “Emma?” Asked Regina.

 “I haven't known Killian long enough for me to notice anything like that. He whines a bit when he isn't well, but we all do.”

  “So, he doesn't have any annoying habits? Not even in bed.”

  “Regina. You can't just ask that. You don't even know if they've slept together yet.” Said Belle.

  “Of course they have. We've all seen Killian.” Said Mary Margaret.

  “Mary Margaret!” Stressed Elsa.

  “I’m sorry. It's all the hormones.”

  “It's fine. I know what that's like.” Laughed Emma. As did Elsa. “I tried chatting up a New York policeman when I was pregnant with Henry. He laughed and took it in his stride.”

  “I remember having a really big crush on the guy who mows next door’s lawn. He's like sixty with a moustache.” Laughed Mary Margaret.

  “I went off Liam completely. It was so odd. I couldn't bare to look at him. Both times. I mean I was thankful he was away with the Navy. He came on leave and started flirting and I nearly hit him.”

  “I’ve heard women do that.” Laughed Belle.

  “Any children for you in the future, you two?” Asked Elsa.

  “Me and Robin haven't discussed it yet. Though I’m perfectly fine with Roland.”

  “Will says he wants them, but I don't know how serious we are yet.”

  “What about you Emma? A brother or sister for Henry?” Asked Regina.

  “Definitely not yet. I hardly meant to have Henry, until I know what my plan is I can't even consider another child. Henry is the love of my life, I don't know if I want more.”

  They chatted more. They talked individually. They were getting a bit tipsy and Elsa had made Emma feel more at ease. They played a game of Never Have I Ever. The story of Emma and prison came out, but the girls were hardly fussed. Each agreeing that Neal was a total jerk, and Mary Margaret had to be convinced not to go and hunt him down. Emma started to feel the buzz of the alcohol and let loose a bit more. She shared a laugh with all the women and Gwen and Ruby turned up later in the night. Ruby became the life of the party and was really interested in Emma. They ended up exchanging numbers and then Emma decided she missed her two men. Three if Roger was included.

  She walked home to clear her head. She was feeling a bit giggly and silly, she walked into the apartment. Roger was lay next to the back door, it was cooler for him there. She stroked him and then went to the bedroom. Killian was tucked up in bed, snoring lightly. She took off her simple dress and climbed in next to him. His bare flesh against hers made her feel good, she put her arm around him and he moved and held her hand. Though it seemed subconscious. He was still sleeping, his features were stress free and she was happy. She had no worries. She hadn't felt like this in a long time. If ever. She was feeling cheeky but didn't want to disturb him.

  “I want a future with you, Killian. I want you in my life for good.” It was much easier to say stuff like that when he was asleep. It might have been the alcohol talking but she did want him. She kissed him goodnight and fell asleep.

   Killian rolled over. He was cold. He hadn't heard Emma come in, she was lay with her back to him with all the covers on her, he tried to take some for himself, but she was unnaturally strong. He couldn't even lie close because she had cocooned herself in them.

  “Emma. Wake up, beautiful.” He whispered softly. She stirred awake.

  “Ugh. What is it, Jones?”

  “I’m freezing. You have been a little madam and taken all the covers.” He was still whispering.

  “So?”

  “So, I think you should share.”

  “I don't wanna.”

  “Don't make me do something I will regret.” He chuckled.

  “Go ahead, you baby.”

  The next thing she knew she was being tossed over a shoulder, covers and all. He threw her gently on the couch and she unwrapped from the quilt. He put it over his shoulders and stomped back to the bedroom. She chased him and jumped on his back, which had them toppling over onto the bed.

 “Woah.” He chuckled. The covers were between them, but he let her in and they cocooned themselves together. It wasn't soon before he started tickling her ribs.

  “No. Stop. Stop. Killian, I love you. Please stop.” He did. He was tense and so was she. Their bodies were trapped together in the covers and neither of them knew what to do.

  “You… you love me?” he asked.

  “No. I mean, urm… sort of. Yes. Maybe?” She didn't know what to say. Neither did he.

  “You love me.” He said, more assured. “Like, you. Emma Swan. You love me?” His smile was getting wider and wider.

  “I didn't mean to say it. It slipped out.” She felt him relax on top of her. He was smiling and then kissed her.

  “I love you too.”

  She smiled. She had always been so afraid of saying it to him. She never imagined what it would sound like back. What it would sound like coming from him. It was pure and soft and full of promises. Nothing like Neal’s.

  “I love you.” She tried it again. The words sounded foreign apart from to Henry, but she liked it. She liked watching Killian's face light up and she said it. She loved that his deep blue eyes seemed to intensify when he was thinking the same.

  “I still love you too.” He kissed her. “I love everything about you. I love Henry too.”

   “He loves you too.” She smiled. Maybe she really didn't want to leave him. Not now she had said the words she had feared for so long.

   It was Sunday evening, Killian was making a roast dinner, whilst Emma was bathing Henry. He was humming happily in the kitchen, after all Emma Swan loved him. How could he not be happy? He stirred the gravy and checked on the mash.

  After Henry had eaten and been put to bed, they sat down and enjoyed their dinner together. The day had been quite busy, Emma was working for most of it and Henry was restless, so Killian had been entertaining him all day. His leg was improving and he managed a short walk with Roger around the streets.

  Ping!

  “Was that mine or yours?” Asked Killian. Their phones were side by side on the coffee table in the front room. They never brought their phones to dinner, that was a Jones family rule.

  “It could be that job.”

  “At this time?”

  He looked confused as well. It was quite later but they did say the end of the week.

  “I'm too curious.” He chuckled and went to retrieve his phone. It was his that had pinged.

   “Swan! I got it! I got the job!” He cheered. She got up and gave him a hug.

  “Killian, that's great! Well done.” She smiled. She kissed him and hugged him tight. “I knew you could do it.”

  “That means I start in a few weeks.” He smiled. He was excited to do a bit more with himself, but he was going to miss Emma and Henry when he was working. “I’ll miss you.”

  “You’ll be too busy to miss us.”

  “I love you.” He smirked and kissed her neck.

   “And I love you too. Come on, dinner’s going cold.”

[smilingformoney]

America’s Most Eligible 3 Diamond Scene: Cram Sesh with Adam

You: First impressions are crucial. I’ve gotta find Adam! Wrenn: Good luck, Jamie. I’ve got my fingers crossed for you.

You walk into the living room to find Adam chatting with Mackenzie, Derek, and Jen. Adam: I’m so nervous, I changed six times this morning! Derek: That’s… Maid of Honour: Insane? Officiant: A workout? Adam: I’ll take option C… All of the above. You: Glad to see I’m not the only one who’s nervous. Before we meet the parents, we should prep each other for what to expect. Adam: Count me in. Derek: If there’s a chance of finding out what makes you two tick, we want in. You: We’ll take all the help we can get. Let’s meet on the roof in five.

You, Adam, and your friends regroup on the roof. As you all settle in around the table, you turn to look at Adam. You: Okay… Tell me everything I need to know about your parents. Adam: Are you kidding? I wouldn’t know where to start! Maid of Honour: How about the beginning? After all, Jamie’s gonna need to know your family inside and out if they’re gonna make a good impression. Officiant: That might take a little longer than we have. Officiant: You should start with how well you get along with them. Whether you see eye-to-eye can say a lot about a person. Derek: That’s a good idea, but this is also about making Jamie feel comfortable meeting them. What do you want to know, Jamie? You: As important as it is to know about Adam’s relationship with his family…

You: I really just wanna know… -Whether they approve of me.

You: Between the craziness in the mansion and the producers’ editing for drama, there’s no telling what they think! Adam: Everyone knows you can’t trust anything you see on TV. Nobody’s gonna judge you for that.

-How I can impress them.

You: Meeting the parents is hard enough without trying to appeal to a demographic. I need a cheat sheet! Derek: Hmm… I see your point. There’s gotta be some advice Adam can give you…

Maid of Honour: Adam, you know your family better than any of us. What do you think Jamie should know about them? Adam: Uh… My aunt’s he only redhead in six generations… You: That’s… actually kinda cool. Officiant: As interesting as that is, I don’t think it’s gonna help Jamie today. Adam: I’m sorry. There’s so much I could say, I’m blanking on what’s need-to-know. Derek: Would it help if Jen, Mackenzie, and I go first? It’ll give you an example of what’s important… Maid of Honour: And Jamie can learn more about our families too. You: Works for me. Why don’t we start with…

Whose turn is it? -Mackenzie!

You: Tell me about your dad, Mackenzie. Is he as cool as your little sister Natalie? Mackenzie: Cooler. As cliché as it sounds, I’ve got the best dad in the world. Mackenzie: Right from the start, he never saw me as anything less than his daughter. He’s patient, easy to talk to, kind, selfless… Mackenzie: Basically everything my mother isn’t. You: Whoa… I’ve never heard you mention your mom, Mackenzie. Jen: On your audition reel, you said you grew up with a single father. Mackenzie: I did. My mom left us fifteen years ago. No note, no explanation, just an empty closet where her clothes should’ve been. Derek: That had to be terrible. Mackenzie: It was worse for Natalie. My dad was a mess, and she didn’t understand what was happening. I had to take care of everything. Adam: But you were just a kid! Mackenzie: That’s why he asked me to stop helping. He said it was like watching his worst fear come true. You: I can see why. It’s obvious…

You: He was worried you would… -Waste your life taking care of everything else. +BACKGROUND

You: You were just a kid! That’s an impressionable time to take on such a huge responsibility. Mackenzie: I thought handling it all alone made me strong, but my dad taught me that my constant strength helped everyone but me. Mackenzie: His favourite thing to say is, ‘Strength is for workhorses and machines. You’re only human, Mackenzie.’ You: Wise words.

-Flunk out of school. -BACKGROUND

You: There’s no way you’d have been able to do that and keep your grades up. You’d have never made it to law school! Mackenzie: I’m sure that crossed his mind, but I think he was more afraid I’d feel obligated to take care of him forever. You: Wow, Mackenzie. Were things that bad? Mackenzie: Bad enough that I’d gotten used to being strong for all of us. But my dad wanted to see me become more. Mackenzie: I think I got my determination from him. You: I’m sure you exceeded his expectations.

-Derek!

You: What’s the most important thing to know about your parents? Derek: Probably that they’re polar opposites. My dad’s a fun-loving, free spirit from Colorado… Derek: While my mom’s more of the practical type. She was born in Haiti and immigrated to the U.S. as a kid in the ‘70s. Mackenzie: That’s so cool! Jen: I’m sure it has its moments. Having immigrant parents can be complicated. Derek: I love having that connection to our culture, and I’ve even gone to visit where she grew up… Derek: But it made me realise how much she sacrificed for us to have the life that we do. Derek: Sometimes, I feel like anything less than success is letting her down. Adam: That’s a lot to put on one person. You: Especially when there are so many different types of success. Derek: not in her book. Doctor, lawyer, engineer… Those are the careers she wishes I’d join. Derek: And I’ve thought about it. I know it would make her happy, but…

You: But you… -Don’t want to pretend to be someone you’re not. +BACKGROUND

You: You may be an analytical genius, but I’ve seen your work. You belong in the arts, and you know it. Derek: I love my mom, and I know she just wants me to be stable, but living a rich and fulfilling life takes more than money. Derek: Sometimes, all I need is to good around with my friends. You: The best way to honour her sacrifice is with your happiness. Everything else will come.

-Don’t think you’d be good at it. -BACKGROUND

You: Those careers are prestigious for a reason. There’s no shame in admitting you’re not up for the challenge. Derek: I developed an algorithm that accurately predicts the next AME winner ninety-two percent of the time. I can handle the work. Derek: It’s just not who I am. I’m at my best when we’re hanging out and goofing off… not working eighty-hour weeks. You: Alright, smartypants. You have a point.

-Jen!

You: Were your parents strict growing up? Jen: That’s one word for it. My dad was in the military, so discipline and order were always the priority. Jen: He and my mom wanted the best for me, but living like that placed duty over fun. I always did what I had to, never what I wanted. Adam: That had to be tough. Derek: I can’t imagine having to toe the company line even as a kid. Jen: It’s part of why I wanted to be a flight attendant. We moved because someone said so. They flew because they were free to. Mackenzie: Not to mention you’d be in control of the snacks. You: when you put it like that, it sounds like a perfect fit. What changed? Jen: Everything. Jen’s eyes water, and her gaze falls to the floor. You watch her wipe away a tear and reach out to hold her hand. Jen: My dad was killed during his deployment, and after that, nothing was the same. My mom, especially. Jen: She stopped caring about my homework and encouraged me to do things I loved. It’s how I found producing. Jen: When I asked her why, she said losing my dad put everything into perspective.

You: Sounds like she wanted you to… -Love your work. -BACKGROUND

You: But I don’t think she meant for you to bring it home with you. Jen laughs through her tears. Jen: I think she just wanted me to see that there was more to life than work. Jen: I’ve always been passionate about every project I’ve taken on, and she wanted me to live life that same way. You: I think we can call that mission accomplished.

-Live life to the fullest. +BACKGROUND

You: You attack everything with pure passion, Jen. She just wanted you to have a life that you were crazy about. You: I’m sure they both did. Jen: There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss him, but I know he’d be proud of me. You: One thing’s for sure… I know I am. Jen: Thanks, Jamie…

Adam: Okay, I think I’ve got the hang of this. You: Perfect. So tell me… You: What’s the number one thing I need to know about my future in-laws? Adam: Well, their hearts are in the right place, but my parents are massive worrywarts. Adam: Though I guess that’s my fault. After the way Season 9 ended for me, I wasn’t really in the best headspace. Mackenzie: I don’t see how you could’ve been. Vince and Sierra’s plan was brutal. Jen: That was the night the Bad Boy of AME was born. Overnight, you were like a completely different person. Derek: I saw clips of your time in the Jury House. You were cold, man. You: If you became someone they didn’t recognise, that’s enough to make any parent worried. Adam: Once they saw how guarded the show made me, it turned them against reality TV. If they had their way, I’d have never stepped foot on set again. You: But you’re so much better now! You: If nothing else, AME showed you who your real friends are. They’ve gotta at least see that. Adam: I think it’s been hard getting that image of me out of their heads. Before, I was their perfect, loving son… Adam: Now, when they look at me…

You: All they can see is… -Their little boy. -BACKGROUND

You: Parents can have a hard time seeing their adult children as anything other than the kids they used to be. Adam: Not in this case. You guys weren’t the only ones chipping away at the wall I put up. My parents just never realised it had fallen. You: That has to be frustrating. Adam: They mean well. My dad actually suggested I should be more like you. He thinks you’re the perfect role model. You: Smart man.

-The wall you put up. +BACKGROUND

You: And it’s like they can’t get past it. Adam: Exactly. The way they look at me… I just feel like they’re waiting on the other shoe to drop. You: They aren’t going to hate me because you came back for the wedding… Are they? Adam: Not a chance. Before I left, my mom mentioned it would be good for me to be around someone as open as you. You: Then I’m glad to be of service.

-How handsome you are! -BACKGROUND

You: And they’re not the only ones. Adam chuckles. Adam: I favour my dad, so he might agree with you, but they just don’t believe I’m not that closed off person anymore. You: I can’t imagine how hard it’s been trying to persuade them. Adam: On the bright side, my mom thinks your open personality is just what I need to come back around. You: You know what they say… ‘Mother knows best’.

Adam: I just wish there was some way for them to see how hard I’ve worked to grow past that season.

You: Adam… -I can’t believe I didn’t know that. +50

You: We’ve known each other for almost a year, and this is the first time you’ve ever mentioned any of that. Adam: There’s a lot of things we still don’t know about each other, but that’s the beauty of getting married. Adam: We’ve got the rest of our lives to learn them.

-Thank you for sharing that with me. +50

You: I know being vulnerable isn’t easy. I’m just happy you trust me enough to let me in. Adam: You’re gonna be my spouse. I feel like I can tell you anything.

Derek: This has definitely been a bonding experience. You: I never would’ve guessed any of the things you guys told me. You play it pretty close to the vest. Maid of Honour: You’re one to talk. You’re the biggest mystery of us all. You: Me? I’m an open book! Adam: I wouldn’t go that far. You’ve heard all about our families, and I don’t even know your mom’s name! You: That’s easy…

Her name is… [Name your mom]

Adam: Diana… Well, that’s one less thing to worry about. You: You have nothing to be afraid of. Once she sees how happy you make me, she’ll welcome you into the family with open arms. You: But if you really want to get on her good side…

You: You should… -Compliment her!

You: Whoever said that flattery could get you anywhere must’ve had my mom in mind. Adam: Time to turn up the charm. I’ll keep an eye out for just the right moment.

-Mind your manners!

You: My mom is a stickler for all things prim and proper. Adam: Good to know… I guess I’ll have to be on my best behaviour.

-Dote on me!

You: My mom has been spoiling me for years. She’ll want to make sure my future spouse can keep up the trend. Adam: Spoil you rotten… Got it!

The heavy metal door opens, and Wrenn pokes their head out. Wrenn: It’s showtime. Are you all ready? You: As ready as we’ll ever be.