#I am just putting out the avenues by which to let them know you’re unhappy. a thing i am also doing.

[leonstamatis]

like not to be that guy but if you do want to let the people producing blaseball: the card game know that you would like to see credit given where it is due, to the artists who created these designs and made blaseball what it is today, wayfinder has both a contact form and a general email listed as info@wayfinder-games.com. they also have a twitter and a facebook listed on the card game’s website.

i know this is something that has been brought up before in the blb fandom in some capacity or another since the card game was announced, but given nothing has been done on the production end to fix the issue, it seems like we have to keep bringing it up again and again. so. here are some places to do that.

[nicka-nell]

How you celebrate your New Year

Pairing: Ushijima x reader Tendou x reader Warning: a bit of toxic relationship with parents?

The cool air of the air conditioner tickles your skin, while the seat heater warms your back and makes you relax. The radio can only be heard quietly, as a newscaster talks about the New Year, which is soon to come.

“My father’s in town for work, so he’ll probably be here for dinner this year.” Although his words are addressed to you, he does not turn his gaze from the road, does not take his hands off the wheel for a second.

Somewhat surprised you look at his, as always quite monotonous look, ask yourself why he has not told you something about it before and not only now, when you are already on the way to his mother.

He hadn’t seen his father in a long time. Now that you’re thinking about it, you’ve never seen his mother and his father together until now. Do they make up? How does Ushijima feel about seeing his parents reunited?

“Are you happy to see your father again, Toshi?” Attentively you check his gaze, try to elicit a reaction from him, but he still looks the same as before. 

“He’s my father. It’s too much to say I’m happy to see him again, but it’s not bad.” Ushijima is accustomed to not seeing his father often, but since he no longer lives with his parents, but with you, he also rarely sees his mother. Because through his career, he travels a lot, doesn’t have the time. Most of the time you are alone with his mother when there are celebrations or she needs help.

Completely immersed in your thoughts, you do not notice that the car is already slowing down; you drive into a small avenue full of snow-covered trees.

Like small diamonds, the snow glistens on the branches, while the road under the white snow is barely visible. His mother’s house can already be seen when Ushijima parks the car and comes to your side to open the door and grab your hand.

He’s wearing his black suit, a purple tie that matches your dress. “Let’s go, my love.” His voice is so deep, quiet in your ears, while his large hand lies on your small back.

The snow crunches under your shoes as you arrive at his mother’s doorstep and the ringing of the bell is heard. A few seconds later, you hear footsteps, and a woman opens the door with a strict bun.

“Wakatoshi, Y/n, good to see you. Come in, my child.” She greets you both with a narrow smile before the door opens wide and invites you in. 

You take off your shoes, hang up your jackets before Ushijima’s father welcomes you and is happy to see his son, and especially his son’s girlfriend again.

You have little time to talk, because you are asked by Ushijima’s mother directly to the table, should start eating before it gets cold. “Y/n my child, please sit on the other side. Otherwise, Wakatoshi always pushes his hand against your arm. You know, he always eats with his left hand. Just like his father taught him...” 

Her voice is almost reproachful as her gaze wanders to the side of her former husband, who has just sat down at the table. He breathes deeply before he crosses his hands and looks at her as calm as possible.

“I didn’t raise him like that, I kept his talent.”, “His talent… So he can start a volleyball career like you? Just look at him. He may be famous, but he’s never there for his girlfriend. He’s never with his mother. He never has time! He won’t stay young forever. What does he do when he’s old? What money should he live on? This volleyball career is not right for him! How can he be there for his family? They still don’t have kids, just look how long they’ve been together!” Her voice gets louder with every word.  

Her anger is palpable, as if she regretted not having prevailed at that time. That Ushijima was not raised up to be a right-handed man, as it should be. He should have learned a sensible profession, should already be married and should already have children, instead he travels the world while leaving you alone at home. She shouldn’t have let her ex-husband get away with this.

“Now stop… He can still be a coach. Besides, it’s not an issue for the New Year’s dinner.” Unlike her voice, his is calm and collected. The situation is getting more and more unpleasant for you, actually you want to say something, but you don’t dare.

Something lost, you look over to Ushijima looking from his parents in your direction. His gaze is still emotionless, but his hand moves under the table to yours, squeezing it tightly before stroking your back with his thumb.

Every time he sees you, he feels his heart beat differently, and how his mind changes. When you laugh, give him a breathtaking smile, he can barely control himself and unconsciously returns your smile.

You’re everything to him, not seeing you happy, makes him unhappy. He knows he’s not the best boyfriend, that you’d probably be happier with another man by your side. A man who comes home every day, supports you in the household and in raising children.

But he’s too stubborn to admit that he doesn’t want to be without you, he can’t be without you. Because you’re the woman who’s different from everyone else. The woman who understands him. The woman he wants to carry in his hands, who is to carry his children.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners… That was inappropriate of me, let’s eat.” During the meal, only the chopsticks can be heard that meet the bento boxes in front of you and begin to clap. It’s so quiet that you could drop a needle. Quiet with tension.

After the meal, you thank his mother for preparing such a delicious meal before she clears the table and the plates. “As a coach, he’s just not home.” She calls to her former husband as she comes out of the kitchen back into the dining room and looks at him, frowning. “Do you want to start this topic again? I think it’s better if I go and you guys just party alone. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to come here.” 

But before Ushijima’s father can manage to get up, it is Ushijima who moves his chair backwards and gets up from the table. You feel your chair being pushed backwards, Ushijima’s hands resting on your shoulders, warming your skin beneath them.

“Mother, the food was really delicious. However, I am not feeling well today. I think it’s better if Y/n and I go home now. I’m very sorry we can’t spend the evening with you. Mother, Father, goodbye.” 

Quietly he looks into your three astonished faces, sees his father just lowering his head, sighing, as if he wanted to apologize. Ushijima helps you up before his parents can react to his sudden announcement.

Quickly you say goodbye to the two before Ushijima’s hands pull you into the hallway, hold out your jacket so you can slip in before he puts on his and you put on your shoes to leave the house with a last “Goodbye.”

Until the car you are silent, do not talk even after Ushijima has already started driving. You know he’s not feeling sick, but that he was avoiding this conversation, this unnecessary argument. 

However, it is better to leave him alone for now. To give him time until he opens up from within you. You look thoughtfully out of the window when you notice Ushijima making a wrong turn at a crossroads. “Toshi we have to go to the other-” 

“I know.” Almost chilly, his voice cuts off your words before stopping at a place you know. Again he opens the door for you, helps you out of the car before you look at him questioning.

“What are we doing here, Toshi?” You want to know, but instead of answering you, he puts his hand on your lower back and sets you in motion, looking forward.

“We haven’t been to a temple or a shrine. Haven’t wished us something for the New Year, haven’t prayed yet.” For a while you still wander through the snow, your cheeks tingle slowly, your nose is cold and you see how your breath becomes visible.

Arriving in front of a small shrine, you already see many people standing in front of it who want to pray to ask for happiness and health. You too stand at the shrine before Ushijima takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

You follow him, pray for his health that he will not get any injuries, that he will continue to enjoy volleyball and that he will continue to be so successful. That he keeps coming back healthy, has no worries, and that you can keep making him happy.

You open your eyes, look over to Ushijima, who is also about to open his, and notices in the corner of your eye you are looking at him. “What did you wish for, Toshi?” You ask with a bright smile, but don’t get an answer. 

With a sigh, he puts himself behind you, takes you firmly in his arm while he lovingly kisses your hairline. He doesn’t care if people are staring at you. He doesn’t care if they talk about you. He just wants to feel your closeness. Smell your scent, hear your laugh and enjoy the time he has with you.

He still won’t let go of you, putting his chin down on your head while his broad upper body rests against your back. “I have wished for us to be a real family, you, me, our future children… The noble family Ushijima. One who is together and not as divided and separated as my parents. I want you to stay by my side. I want you to be happy, shine next to me, and we to look to our future together.” 

Even when it’s cold outside, you’ll notice how his words warm your entire body. Your vision suddenly blurry and a fiery liquid runs down your cheeks. These words that are so unbelievably pure, serious but also loving.

You almost don’t notice the ringing of the bells in the background, which makes the New Year come true for everyone, so that the people get to wish themselves all the best for the New Year.

“Happy New Year to you, my love.” Ushijima whispers in your ear, your body still pressed against his before you turn around and look up at him. 

With the warmest smile you can give him, you face him, see how he looks down at you with a thin smile before you wrap his cheeks with your hands and give him a kiss full of love. “Happy New Year, my bear.” 

You’re nervous about getting out of Tendou’s car. Take a deep breath of the cold air before you exhale and try to calm down. This is the first time you met with his parents. And then on such an important day.

They probably don’t want you around because New Year’s Eve is a family celebration. You’ve been together with Tendou a long time, but his parents don’t know you.

“Hey, paradise, why are you looking like that? Are you nervous~?” He hums and tilts his head aside to look at you with a wide grin and narrow eyes. He seems as calm as ever, loose as if he has no worries.

“You really don’t have to be nervous. My parents are anything but a prime example of an intact family. So relax.” He giggles before he knocks on his parents’ door, his slim fingers wrapped around yours.

Almost as if someone had been waiting at the door for your knocking, the door opens at an incredible speed. A tall man comes out, thinly built, who looks first to Tendou and then down to you.

His look is not unfriendly, rather surprised and almost overwhelmed. “So you were serious when you said you were bringing your girlfriend?” Says the man in front of you, who must have been Tendou’s father by appearance.

And before Tendou can answer him, he bends forward, looks at you and frowns in confusion. “You really are a beautiful woman. How much did he pay you to play his girlfriend?” 

Speechless from his rude words, your gaze sweeps over to Tendou, who just clicks annoyed with his tongue. “As friendly as ever, eh, Father?” Tendou just laughs, and pulls you past his father to go into the house.

The house is chilly, almost as cold as outside, when you take off your jacket and grab your arms with stiff fingers. But the cold air does not bounce on your skin for a long time, because it is wrapped in just a few seconds by the soft cotton fabric of Tendou’s sweater.

With big eyes you look into his red ones, see his warm smile, and his naked arms now that he’s only standing in his T-shirt in front of you. “I don’t want you to freeze.” 

“But aren’t you cold, Satori?” You worry, but he just shakes his head and pushes you into the dining room, where some food has already been placed on the table.

The closer you get to the dining room, the more the fresh breeze disappears until the scent of food completely envelops you. Tendou’s mother is just about to put the plates on the table as she turns around to greet Tendou and looks at you both with a warm smile.

Unlike his father, she hides her surprise well at first, but can’t help but wonder if you’re really his girlfriend. More and more you understand why Tendou didn’t want you to meet his family for so long.

If you saw the two of them in a photo, you would think that they are wonderful people who would make great parents, but apparently they are not. 

Even if Tendou has no grudge against his family, it begins with every question, at every glance, to grow with you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just so unusual to see Satori with someone other than Ushijima. Especially if it’s a beautiful woman like you. What’s your name again, my child?” 

His mother apologizes to you with a warm smile and for a moment doubts arise in you whether you really were wrong and her previous words were just chosen unhappily.

Silently you mumble your name, returning her smile when it becomes even wider for your shy answer. 

She asks you both to come to the table, also calls her husband, who watched Tendou and you from the door frame with his arms crossed. But you were wrong to think that his family had expressed themselves unhappily, because at dinner they question you like in an interrogation.

“Now, be honest, if you’re really together with him, tell us why? Why our son? He’s not popular. I think he just has this one friend in his children’s sports club, and let’s be honest, Satori is a bit peculiar.” Laughs his father a little incredulous, before his gaze wanders to his son, who has not said a word yet, eating his food with a buzzing.

It hurts you to see him like this, to know that these words only hurt him, to know that he’s just pretending that they do not touch him, but you of all people know how fragile he can be sometimes.

“Yes, I would also like to know why such a lovely, intelligent and probably popular girl like you chose someone like Satori. You could have something so much better, you’re playing in a whole different league.” Now his mother also interferes, who looks at you with big eyes.

You would like to yell at them now, but instinctively you seek the gaze of Tendou, trying to calm down. But when you look at him, you see his constantly wide smirk as he gets up from the chair and stretches his arms once with a loud growl.

“I’m getting some fresh air. It’s really too warm here. Be right back.” He mumbles to himself and disappears from the room. Just now he lets you and his parents look back on the now closed dining-room door, before they look at you again.

Did he go out because he can’t hear any more of this? Because those words hurt him? His family is the one who’s weird, who’s mean and not him.

And just as his mother wants to open her mouth again, you hit your hands on the table and stand up. “Stop! Both of you! Do you hear yourselves? Don’t you love your son? Aren’t you proud of him? Satori is a wonderful man, he is so caring, attentive, lovable and funny. He gives me so much love and security, I can’t give him that much back. And his volleyball club is not a children’s club! Have you never seen one of his games? How strong his team is! How incredible Satori is?” 

You yell at them, and you don’t care what they think of you now, whether they want to throw you out and never see you again. But you won’t let these people deal with Tendou like that.

“Satori has more friends than just Wakatoshi. Nevertheless, Wakatoshi is his best friend, the person with whom he gets along best. You should be ashamed that you know so little about your own son! That you talk so bad about him, even though he’s so wonderful! You’re the weird ones, not Satori! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get some air!” 

You almost yell when you leave his parents completely amazed but also with an abashed expression and grab your jacket, put on your shoes and go to Tendou.

Through the open window, he could hear every word of you, yet self-doubt arises in him as he leans from the outside against the facade and looks into the cloud-free sky, which slowly gets dark. Of course, his parents are right about you being wonderful, and he knows that best himself.

But is it really so wrong to have you with him? Does he really keep you from finding someone better? Someone like Ushijima? Now that he’s thinking about it, he’s really not good for you. You’d always be confronted with why you’re with a weird guy like him.

“Hey, my lollipop, are you okay?” Your tender, calm voice makes him look away from above, in your direction, as you approach him and reach for his hands.

They are freezing cold, taking away the heat from your hands in just a few seconds. “Satori, your hands are so cold…” Your fragile, sad voice resounds as you press your both hands against your cheek. He was probably already cold in his parents’ house, after all, he had given you his sweater, and even now he only wears an autumn coat.

“Huh... really? I didn’t notice…” He replies, and even when he smiles at you, his voice is sad. Makes you feel bittersweet. “Satori, your parents are wrong about everything. You’re wonderful, and I can’t put it into words how much I love you. Only you! And I will always only love you…” 

You try to reach out to his inner self with your words. To touch his heart and at least warm his body from the inside if you can’t do it from the outside. You must think of Tendou’s words back when you first met. He told you he could read you like an open book.

And now he’s the one you can read, analyze, and understand. Even though you said little, it was enough to put a smile on his face to turn you around and take you in his arms.

Playfully he cuddles himself in the crook of your neck, tickles your cheek with his red hair before he closes his eyes and enjoys your closeness. However, he opens his mouth after just a few breaths and revels in old memories with you.

How you tried to explain Ushijima how to use emojis correctly. How he had saved Ushijima from giving you probably the worst birthday present, as he wanted to give you a huge pillow with the inscription “Y/n loves Satori very much”.

Instead, you got a sweet cactus from him, which had a red flower on top and somehow reminds you of Tendou, which is why you also named it Tendou.

Or also the fact that every Wednesday you watch your favorite baking program together, make fun of some dishes and others want to bake a day later directly.

And also how excited he was when you had your first actual date and he had to go to the doctor a day later because he sat down on an anthill.

With every flashback your smile gets bigger and bigger, also makes Tendou laugh sincerely, while he still braces you in his arms. Still with tears of joy in your eyes, you ask him if you want to go back in, but he just shakes his head.

“I have another idea. Come on, we can also wish my parents a happy new year on the phone.” He whispers to you as his breath forms a light mist through the cold.

Somehow you can understand that he doesn’t want to go back in, yet you ask him if you should at least say goodbye. But again he shakes his head.

Both of you sit down in his car, when you automatically turn on Tendous seat heating, so that hopefully he gets warmer again soon. “Some music~?” He hums with his usual cheerful voice as he pulls out a few CDs from his driver’s side.

Grinning, you nod, tap on a CD that Tendou, with a click of the plastic sleeve, pushes into the CD drive. Slowly it glides in as the first track begins and the loud rock music rings through your ears. 

Anything but Christmas music. But if you’re being honest, neither of you are the traditional person or couple celebrating Christmas. 

Together you sing the songs that you already know by heart up and down. Remember the concerts you were at and make the whole car shake until Tendou slows down and stops at a cliff.

His thin, long hands reach for the turning wheel to make the music quieter as he smiles at you before he looks forward. “Do you remember?” He asks quietly and contentedly with a dreamy face.

After all, your gaze drifts from Tendou’s face, to the front, to the cliff from which the entire city can be seen.

The sky is now dark as the night, while the bright lights of the houses illuminate it again. How could you ever forget this place? The place where Tendou asked you to be his girlfriend? The place the two of you kissed the first time that had gotten you so many butterflies in your stomach. Never could you forget this place or his words. 

“I can read you like an open book, and yet I’m afraid of your reaction, but do you want to be my girlfriend?” You repeat his words and look at him with a smile.

His eyes grow big, his joy huge as he nods hastily. “Exactly my words, you really are the best Y/n~!” He sings again before he bends over to you and cuddles you like a little cuddly animal.

You laugh out loud before he loosens his grip on you and looks at you in silence. You almost don’t hear the bells that open the New Year, yet they softly find their way into your ears.

“Happy New Year, my lollipop.” You whisper before you kiss him gently. And as your lips separate, Tendou turns his head to the side, back to the back seat, before his gaze lands on yours again, his fingers at your chin making you look into his eyes. 

His red eyes, full of excitement. “What do you say we start the New Year by ringing a few other bells, my paradise?” He breathes hungrily, before you both chuckle in a conspiracy, when you strip his seat belt off. 

“So… Let’s ring those other bells.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unannounced

Warnings: non/dub con sex; violence.

This is dark!Charles Blackwood and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is caretaker to the widow of the manor but one day she returns to an unexpected visitor.

Note: Wait! Did I write a Charles Blackwood fic? I may just have! It’s my first foray into the character and I only watched the movie once but I hope you guys enjoy. FYI he’s a real fucking prick in this! But let me know what you think <3

+

With the exception of finding viable blueberries, your weekly trip to the grocer had been a success. Every item on the list was in the single paper bag in your arms and you walked patiently up the main street towards the manor hidden in the valley just beyond. Mrs. Callisby would be disappointed but you hoped the blackberries would be an acceptable substitute for her morning yogurt.

Since the death of her husband, you had been Ada Callisby’s caretaker. She was a kind woman, if not a little meek, but fussy nonetheless. She let you know when she was unhappy but otherwise was mostly amiable. Your flats scuffed on the pavement as you turned the corner and swept your way along the avenues and drives. At the gates of the widow’s manor, you paused; you always pulled close the wrought iron when you left. It assuaged Mrs. Callisby’s nerves as she agonized over her mother’s pearls and husband’s timepiece.

You frowned and carried on, another mystery as a cherry red convertible sat in the drive. You wondered at who was so important that Mrs. Callisby had rose to answer the doorbell and subsequently opened the gates. She wasn’t particularly limber with her cane and bent back. You stepped closer to the car, balancing the paper bag against your hip as you examined the exterior. The leather was entirely unmarked and the paint perfectly polished. It was either new or the owner was a meticulous materialist.

“Excuse me,” The voice frightened you; unfamiliar and pointed. “Can I help you?”

You turned slowly and looked up at the man standing at the top of the steps that wound up to the side door. You blinked and scoffed. “I should ask you the same.”

“You must be the nurse,” He leaned against the rail, his blue eyes flashed. “You like the car?”

“Not really.” You stepped away from the convertible, “A little too much for me.”

You began up the steps unflinchingly and he watched you ascend coolly. He pressed himself to the railing as he waved you inside but you stopped and turned to him. “You haven’t told me who you are.” You said.

“Charles Blackwood.” He grinned, “If you must now.”

“Blackwood,” You repeated. Ada was a Blackwood before she was a Callisby. “Hmm, so what are you doing here?”

“A little familial visit. Are you usually so inquisitive?” He challenged, his lashes fluttered for just a moment.

“I am when I return to a stranger in the house and Mrs. Callisby unseen,” You countered.

“You needn’t worry. My great aunt is quite comfortable in front of the fire,” He emphasized her relation as he spoke. “May I help?” He offered to take the bag from you.

“It’s quite alright,” You turned away from him and ducked through the door.

Your flats tapped down the hardwood and you sensed his presence as the man who called himself a Blackwood followed. You entered the kitchen and set your wares on the counter. You began to unpack the groceries, sorting them on the marble as you felt him watching you. You looked up and lifted a brow.

“Are you so eager to help?” You asked wryly.

“Not particularly,” His blue eyes trailed away. They were sharp, analytical; as if taking stock of every floorboard and cupboard door. “I’ll check on my aunt.”

“Mmm,” You grumbled and crossed to the larder. “If you would trouble yourself, you can tell her I’ve returned and that her lunch will be prepared shortly.”

He smiled, “I think I can manage that.” He spun on his heel and left you to roll your eyes. Something about the man unsettled you. The cut of his suit, the mien of his walk, the curl in his lip. He was a swindler with a rich man’s pedigree.

You finished putting away your haul and heated up some tomato soup on the stove. You cut a bun and buttered it just how Mrs. Callisby liked and set it all on a tray with a glass of milk. You balanced the tray along the hallways and followed the scent of the fireplace. When you entered the living room, the widow was in her chair before the hearth and Charles was just across from her. He was in your usual spot but you weren’t bothered by it. You rarely sat as it was; only to help feed the only lady though she could still mostly handle that herself.

“Your lunch, Mrs. Callisby,” You placed the tray on the table at her elbow.

“What took you so long, today?” She asked as she glanced over her arm, “You are usually returned by noon.”

“I couldn’t find the blueberries. They’d all turned to mush,” You explained with a courteous smile, “I picked out some blackberries instead.”

“Well, it should have to do,” She grumbled as you slid the table before her. “A berry’s a berry, I suppose.”

“Suppose it is,” You narrowed your eyes and peeked over at Charles who seemed rather intrigued by the conversation. “And you got a visitor when I was gone.”

“Oh, yes. Very unexpected,” She raised her spoon and dipped it in the bowl, a dribbly scoop in her mouth before she continued. “I heard the bell and thought perhaps you had left your key. I mustered my strength to go and find you but I found this young man down there. He helped me open the gate, of course.” She preened over at him, “A noble man, my nephew.”

“Is your nephew staying for dinner?” You asked stiffly.

“I think he should,” She answered with bluster, “He should be here for some time. This old house could use a man’s touch.”

“You’ve a hired gardener coming next week and handyman on call,” You asserted, “Surely your nephew is above such work.”

“On the contrary, I owe it to my sweet Aunt Ada after so long neglecting her.” He crooned, “I do apologize but you know us young men, Aunt, we get carried away in our wiles.”

“So you do,” You muttered before raising your voice, “I suppose, Mrs. Callisby, it will be nice to have family close.”

Your eyes met Charles and his eyes narrowed as his cheek twitched. Such a spontaneous visit. No one ever visited a childless widow without purpose and rarely was it savoury.

-

It was a whole week. Charles remained at the manor and you were due for your third trip to the grocer since last week. You had not accounted for the strange man and his appetite. Mrs. Callisby counted out enough to buy for a feast and you gave her back half. She tucked away her wallet and you smiled at her before putting a record on for her. The music helped her nerves when she was alone. You waved to her as you neared the door, a broad figure blocked your path at the last moment.

“Charles,” You exhaled sourly.

“Y/N,” He leaned on the door frame, his striped grey shirt braced against his chest...it was awful similar to one of Mr. Callisby’s hanging in the old armoire. “Off to the market, again?”

“I am,” You answered in a stunted voice. His blue eyes flicked over you to Mrs. Callisby as she hummed in her chair. “Excuse me. I should be off, I had wanted to be back by noon.”

“I’ll drive you,” He offered, “You won’t have to lug all those groceries up the hill.”

“I prefer the walk,” You replied and attempted to side step him. He filled the frame with his body.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You do so much around here, let me help,” He looked, rather, leered down at you. “I could go for a visit to town myself.”

You pressed your lips together and repressed a sigh. “Fine.” You held back a scowl, “Thank you.”

“Not at all,” He finally removed himself from the doorway. “My pleasure.”

-

The car ride was tense. With the roof down, the wind kept you from any conversation. Charles pulled up in front of the bank and parked. He smiled over at you and climbed out. As you opened your door and stepped out, he appeared just beside you and his hand rested on the handle. He waited for you to step up on the curb and closed it. You didn’t buy this whole gentleman act which had gulled Mrs. Callisby.

“Is there a diner around here?” He asked. You pointed to the opposite corner. “Why don’t we meet there. I’d like to do a little exploring while you’re about your errands.”

“Sure,” You grumbled, “That works.”

You were relieved that he wasn’t coming along to plague your entire trip. You parted, taking measured steps down the pavement before glancing back over your shoulder. He was watching you, too. You turned back and dipped into the grocer’s front door with a chime of the bell. Much of your shopping was done in distraction. Your basket was heavier than usual and the shopkeeper remarked on Callisby’s appetite.

“Not so much her stomach as her kindness,” You muttered as you counted out the bills, “She has a nephew in town...Peculiar man.”

“Ah, yes, he must be the one in that convertible.” The cashier remarked, “He was down’s at Hurley’s the other night.”

“The other night?” You echoed. What would Mrs. Chattersby think of her nephew sneaking off to the local watering hole?

“Just two days back,” The man answered, “He’s a hell of a card player.”

“Mmm,” You took your change and your bags, “Well, thank you. You have a good day.”

“And you, too, Miss,” He replied with a smile, “Give the widow my regards.”

You pushed through the door backwards and righted yourself on the sidewalk. The soles of your flats whispered along the street and you glanced in the windows that lined the main fair. You stopped short as you saw the back of a familiar head just inside the jeweler’s. Charles’ body blocked whatever it was the jeweler was examining on his counter.

Charles’ hands went to his hips as he spoke, his voice muted by the glass. You squinted and drew yourself away from the facade; you did not relish the conversation should he turn and catch you spying. You crossed to the diner and entered with a sigh.

“Miss Y/N,” The owner, Gerry, greeted, “What a treat it is that you should stop by.” You smiled. On her birthday and a few other occasions, you would bring the widow down for a special lunch out. “Where is Mrs. Callisby today?”

“Just at home. I’ve only come to do the shopping,” You nodded to your bags and set them down on a table, “Maybe a coffee, too.”

“Certainly, my dear,” Gerry was jolly enough. His thinning white-hair and round stomach lent him an air of warmth. As he flipped the mug upright on its saucer before you and filled it from the urn, the door whined and signaled the arrival of another. You sensed Charles’ shadow as he approached and he passed Gerry to sit on the bench across from you, “Coffee, sir?”

“Yes,” Charles answered without courtesy, “Some menus too.”

“Oh, no, I’m not very--”

“Let me treat you,” Charles asserted and nodded to Gerry as he finished pouring. The owner blinked at the man warily but retreated without comment. “I figured you could use a break.”

“Really, you don’t have to,” You scratched your chin, “I think we should get back sooner than later.”

“Oh, my aunt will be fine. Despite your doting, she’s a strong old woman,” He leaned back, his arm stretched across the seat of the booth. “I’d say she can handle herself just fine.”

You added milk to your coffee and stirred. You could feel his eyes following your every move. You tapped the spoon on the rim of the cup and set it carefully on the saucer. “I know that. How long do you think your visit should last?”

“As long as she’ll have me. We spoke this morning. I think it prudent that I stay and tend to the house. The garden is looking rather overgrown, wouldn’t you say?” 

You shrugged and he sipped from his coffee black and smiled. He leaned back as Gerry set down a pair of menus on the table. You thanked him as Charles merely watched him with poorly hidden impatience. 

“It shouldn’t take me very long to see that all is in order.”

You picked up your menu and focused on the words. All was in order before you got here, you thought as you hid your grimace behind the cardstock.

-

The next day, you were about your daily chores when you were surprised by an open door. That room had not been opened since the week after Mr. Callisby’s funeral. You walked carefully down the corridor, your eyes stuck to the pale light glowing from the frame. The long curtains were open, the sunlight illuminated the dust floating in the air before the outlines of each frame burned along the wall.

You recalled the last time you been in that room. The widow had ordered you to help her in removing every painting from its fixture. The framed canvases were then leaned in rows against the walls, their faces hidden from the world. That was, until today. You heard the friction of wood against wood and you peeked in as Charles turned one of the paintings to face him. He hung his head and sighed. You crossed your arms as you stood in the doorway.

“This door was locked,” You commented; your voice crisp in the thick air.

“My aunt gave me the key,” He turned, his blue eyes fiery. You had caught him off guard. “What happened in here?”

“This was Mr. Callisby’s collection.” You shrugged, “People grieve in different ways. I figured your aunt didn’t like the reminder.”

“This,” He spun back and gripped the carved frame, “This alone has to be worth over twenty grand.”

“A farthing among the bunch,” You assured him, “Mr. Callisby had quite the eye.”

He shook his head and revealed the next canvas in line. “She could sell them for more than the worth of this manor.”

“They were her husband’s,” You bristled, “The sentiment would garner them priceless, I think.”

He let the canvas fall back into place with a clunk and looked to you once more. “They are my aunt’s now. Family heirlooms.”

“Yes, they are your aunt’s,” You dropped your arms and backed out of the frame, “To do with as she pleases.” 

You continued down the hall as you heard him huff darkly. You frowned as you recalled that Mrs. Callisby had lost the key to that room six months ago.

-

It was a rainy day. You had just put the widow down for a nap as the weather had set a stone in her head. She’d sleep for a couple hours while you finished sweeping the hallways. You had always envied her for her sleeping habits. She never hesitated to doze and rested soundly and steadily. 

You began just outside the kitchen, then along the corridor by the living room and the series that followed it. You turned each corner with pan and broom; the first floor done in just over an hour.

On the second floor, you paused. A distant tinkling rose from an open door. You set aside your broom and pan and inched towards Charles’ room. It was one of numerous guest rooms in the manor; the most commonly used of the bunch. You peeked through the small space between door and frame, the old music box tolled in the afternoon hush. It was opened just on the writing desk in the far corner; a neat stack of papers beside it.

You poked your nose in further and glanced around. The room was eerily empty. The melody lent to it a sense of gloom. The stained glass lamp shone a mosaic of shadows across walls and ceiling. You swallowed as you tried to listen past the metallic song. You tiptoed through the door, pushing it open just enough to permit your entrance. You held your breath as you neared the desk, stopping just behind the chair.

A pen lay crooked across the paper; a carefully written inventory. You flipped through the papers, each labelled by its respective room; kitchen, living room, main floor guest room… Every item in the large manor had been recorded in the chart, an estimate of its value alongside it. The music box finished its refrain and the click of the door punctuated its finale. 

Your head shot up and you spun around in surprise. Charles leaned against the closed door in nothing more than a pair of boxer shorts. You gripped the back of the chair as you stared at him. 

“I knew you were going to be a problem,” He said, “Always snooping around.”

“I--”

“Why don’t you like me?” He interrupted.

“Why are you keeping this?” You tapped the paper on the desk.

“I asked you first,” He tilted his head.

“Because I’m not a childless old lady in the midst of losing her facilities,” You answered bluntly, “Your turn.”

“I told my aunt I would keep account of the house for her. Maintenance and bookkeeping alike.” He smirked as he pushed himself away from the door, “Though I think she might require a new caretaker.”

“And I’m certain she has other nephews out their who could do just a good a job at casing her house,” You sneered.

You tried not to flinch as he got closer. He neared until you were forced to retreat, the wall stopping you with an ‘oomph’. He planted his hand over your shoulder. “I think I’ve been rather nice to you, Y/N. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I think you’ve acted according to your motivations,” You returned sharply.

His jaw squared and he closed his eyes. He exhaled and opened them again. “You’re a stubborn bitch, you know that? Nosy, too.”

“And you’re a swindler,” You snapped, “Now, get away from me before I scream.”

“You think she would hear?” He smirked, “All the way across the manor...fast asleep with a headache.” He leaned closer, “And what would she do if she did?”

Goosebumps rose along your arms and neck as his hot breath grazed your face. “Move,” You whispered, “Now!” The shout surprised even you as the panic rose in your chest. 

He had his hand over your mouth and held you firmly to the wall. “Now, you see, I would’ve convinced your aunt to be rid of you days ago if I thought you useless,” He growled in your ear. His other hand was on your hip. “If you didn’t intrigue me so entirely.”

“Grrmph,” You tried to push him away as his hand remained clasped over your lips.

You grunted and tried to snap at his palm. He ripped his hand away before you could bite him. You reached to remove his other hand only to be stunned by a strike across your cheek. His knuckles left your cheekbone throbbing. He grabbed the back of your neck and dragged you across the room. You tried to dig your heels into the carpet. With a shove, he had your knees crashing into the low footboard of the bed.

You fell onto the edge of the mattress and tried to push yourself back to your feet. With a slap on your ass and another push, you were forced back onto the bed. You rolled over and kicked out at him with a snarl. He caught your foot and the other and held them together. You struggled to free yourself and he grunted in frustration. He tugged on your ankles harshly and you crashed to the floor with a wheeze; the breath rushing from you.

You laid prone across the carpet, grasping your chest as you tried to breathe through the agony. He dropped to his knees and straddled you beneath him. You coughed and batted him away as his hand reached for the front of your blouse. 

“Get off!” You shouted, “Get--” Another backhand and your head was cloudy.

“Shut up!” He barked and a trickle began at the corner of your lips.

You mumbled senselessly as you felt his fingers at the buttons of your blouse. He ripped it open, the buttons flying around in a sprinkle. You reached up to still his hands and his fingers slid up to your neck, closing around your throat as he leaned over you.

“Keep it up and it’ll only get worse.” You kicked your feet as he squeezed. Your lungs burned and your head pounded. Silver dots rose in your vision as he finally released you.

Your chest rose and fell frantically as he forced your blouse down your arms, untangling it from beneath you with a jolt. You whimpered as your head spun. You felt your skirt loosen and he shimmied it along your legs. You struck out blindly and he easily pushed away your hands. Your stockings and shoes were ripped off as the carpet scratched your back.

You turned over as you tried to lift yourself to your knees. He caught you and you fought as he rolled you onto your back once more. He grabbed your hair and lifted your head as he bent over you, his nose almost touching yours. “I swear, I’ll bash your head against the floor until you can’t fucking move. Now stop.”

You felt the heat at the corner of your eyes as the tears pricked. Your entire body went limp as he let go of your hair and sat back. You were trapped beneath him as his hands snaked behind you and unclasped the hooks of your brassiere. You closed your eyes as he slid it down your arms and you were bared to him. Next he worked on your underwear and you dug your nails into the carpet as he drew them down your legs.

“Tell me you don’t get lonely in this dusty old mansion,” He stood over you and you peeked through the slit of your eyes. You shut your eyes tightly as he yanked his boxer down his legs and kicked them off. He straddled you once more, his head next to yours as he leaned over you and spoke lowly in your ear. “Shit. Pent up in here, all I’ve been able to think of is you.”

His hand cupped your breast and he kneaded it, his nose tickled your throat as he purred. His fingers trailed lower, “Or maybe, you don’t know what you’re missing?” He lifted himself on his knees as he grazed your stomach. He traced the vee of your pelvis before he stilled his touch atop your pussy. “Are you untouched?”

“Fuck you,” You choked out through your hoarse throat.

“Well, we’re getting to that,” He slipped his fingers between your legs as he brought his knees between yours. He spread your legs as he felt around and you gasped at his rough fingertips. He chuckled and sank his teeth into your shoulder. You whined through gritted teeth until he finally pulled away. “You’re already fucking wet.”

He pushed his fingers inside you and you tilted your pelvis without thinking. He pulled in and out as he nibbled at your ear. Your cheeks were on fire at the insolence of your body. He dragged your juices outside and spread them over your bud. He lingered there, swirling around as your body tensed. The flare it inspired within was humiliating. You pressed your head into the carpet with a hiss.

He lowered his head to your chest and circled his tongue around your nipple. He continued to tease your clit as a new twinkle bloomed in your chest. He closed his lips around your nipple and his teeth played with the very tip; a shiver ran down your spine, connecting with that in your pelvis. You writhed despite yourself and your feet arched painfully. You couldn’t resist it. You sucked your lip in, the blood salty on your tongue, as you whimpered out your orgasm.

“I knew it,” He rasped as he sat back on his heels. “You’ve been laying in your bed thinking of me, haven’t you? I see you watching me...daydreaming, perhaps?”

Your nostrils flared as your entire body trembled at his mercy. Even if you could think of something to say, your voice would not rise. He hooked your legs over his and pulled you closer. You reached out to grab the end of the bed but it was futile. He was much stronger than you and your body was like a sack of rocks, your head still a blur.

He rubbed his cock along your folds and tapped it against your clit as you winced. He dragged it down to your entrance and paused. You glanced down at him and his blue eyes sparked as he slowly pushed inside. You bit down on your tender lip and squeezed your eyes shut. His thick fingers gripped your hips as he sank into you and laughed as he filled you entirely.

“Ah, so there has been another,” He mused and he pushed painfully against your cervix.

He pulled out, another pause, before he slammed back in. You squeaked and clutched desperately to the bottom of the footboard. He gave several sharp thrusts before he steadied his pace. Your whole body rubbed painfully against the carpet. He plunged into you over and over as your arms shook and your fingers clung to the wood.

His hands slid up to your waist and he lifted you, forcing your grasp from the footboard. He held you so that you were at an angle, your arms limp as he worked into you. His pelvis hammered against yours as you felt and heard your juices spreading across him and you. You bent your head forward and covered your face as you felt another rise. You sobbed as you came again and he growled in response. His hand went to your ass as his other arm wrapped around your back. He guided you up and down his cock as he pounded into you. His grunts filled the air, nails digging into your flesh.

“This is what happens to nosy…” He rasped, “girls. You little fucking--” He groaned, “Bitch!” 

He buried himself entirely and you felt the flood of warmth. He slowed until he came to a final halt, still inside of you as he leaned his head against your shoulder. You tried to shove yourself away from him but he only held you firmer. 

“Don’t fucking move.” He warned and slowly lifted his head to look at you, “You’re not done yet.”

+

tags: @breezy1415 @selinbaskaya @aekr @alexakeyloveloki @beautiful-and-strange @phoenix21love @momc95 @buckycaptspideypool @justballoonfishthings@ms-munchkin @whosmarisaaarw @thoughtlesstales @kxllyxnnx @sathlens @calspixie @lilithhellfire @satinprincessxo @amethyst-the-thot @docharleythegeekqueen @iiqueer-vibesii @carol-dark-vers @l0rd-disick @jilldsumner @hufflebucky @lanabanana-86 @nerdypinupcrystal @notyourtypicalrose @blackpantherimagines @pink1031 @agent-spidey @wassupbitchesssss @lucifersnipnips @thirstyforsomeyandere @xxm3xxj @roses-and-absinthe @stuckybarton @ruff-m3rc @xxxelettaxxx @rainbowkisses31 @heartbeats-wildly @xdatbitch @tea-with-seb @bodhi-black @the-lululemon @abesottedlass @poppyshawn @obsesseds-world @jazztherebel @holylulusworld @yagurlrosie @heartislubbingdubbing @couldntbedamned @desir-ae @adreamemporium @ashrod98 @buckyxwintersxldier @spaghettirogers @buckybarneshairpullingkink @lazinessisalliknow @kastheabsolutepessimist @daggersofloki @odinson-barnes 

[ineedrelationshipadvice]

This is a little TMI but I started dating a guy before quarantine and during quarantine where been having basically phone sex using FaceTime. I can’t get off but he’s so into it and I don’t know what to do. It’s not like he’s forcing me he’s just asking me and I don’t really mind or want to say no. It’s like he’ll just jerk off and I can’t get off. We do it like 2-3 times a week. This is kinda embarrassing, it’s okay if you choose to ignore this.

This is not embarrassing, nor is this TMI. There's nothing wrong with this, and you should try to remember that sex and sexuality is a normal part of dating and relationships! Phone sex included, and being incapable of reaching orgasm included. Don't stress about that detail at least!

That being said, what certainly is stressful is not being able to get off while trying your damndest to do so, especially while your partner is experiencing the pleasure that you may or may not be wanting to experience. There's a lot to discuss in an issue like this that I frankly can't do, because I don't know enough about you or your unique situation. Why someone can't reach orgasm in any distinct situation is always a unique thing, and those are best discussed with a clinical sexologist so that they can work with you directly to solve your own unique issues.

But there are a few things we can go over here that can hopefully lead to toward having better phone sex!

Firstly, you mention that he's not forcing you to do this, and that you don't mind. But you also say that you "don't want to say no." Not minding something and not wanting to say no are two different things. And while it's good that he's not forcing you - that's just basic human decency right there - I do have some concerns with the fact that you don't seem super enthusiastic about doing this. Is there a reason you can think of that you're not enthusiastic about this?

Is it because you feel embarrassed sharing that side of you? If you're not enjoying this because you feel like the relationship may be moving too fast, or you just don't really want to be doing sexual stuff like that, then that's perfectly understandable. It just means that you probably aren't really ready for all that yet, and you should let your partner know that you're not really interested in doing that sort of stuff anymore.

Is it perhaps strictly the phone sex part that's putting you off? I can totally relate to that if so. I've had a few long-distance partners who want to masturbate with me over calls. I don't really jive with it... I'm not a particularly vocal-based person, and making the noises and sounds of sex to let them know my pleasure level is super cringey to me, and I don't like doing it. I don't mind doing it, but it's definitely not my preferred way to handle things. Why do I do it? I mean, if it makes them happy, that's all I care about at the end of the day. But I am not you, and if you need more out of this than making your partner happy, then that's something you should seriously consider.

These are the more emotional sides of the argument. And remember, any of the things I bring up here could be the issue. It could be one of these issues, or none of these issues, or all of the above! You'll have to diagnose that yourself with your own knowledge of how your life and emotions are.

But, to pivot the conversation, perhaps the real cause of concern is that he is able to get off but you are not. If this is the cause, then there are two factors to consider: what is causing you to not receive pleasure and do you know the proper ways to pleasure yourself.

Firstly, what is causing you not to receive pleasure? This kinda goes with the things we said previously. Is it shyness or embarrassment? Do you feel uncomfortable during these phone sex scenarios? If so, what is making you uncomfortable. Is it something you're doing, something he's doing, something that he's expecting of you, or is it just the whole situation overall? The situation is unique to you, so only to can discern something like this. But try to look at the situation from an outside perspective, and see what's actually making you unhappy or uncomfortable with the situation. Is there any way to remedy or fix that situation? Is there something that you can do, he can do, or that can be done in general that would make you more comfortable?

For instance, in one of my long-distance relationships, my girlfriend was VERY self-conscious of her body. But I'm a horny dude, so I obviously wanted to see her. She wanted to be sexual with me, but didn't want to show herself off via webcam while she was having fun on her end. That's totally fair! Instead, I asked if she'd be fine sending nudes. She was sheepish, but was happy with that idea, because she had control of what to send and how she wanted to pose sending them; this compared to the lack of control of doing things on a live camera, which felt awkward to her (a feeling I share, I hate doing that sort of stuff on camera if I don't have to).

So what are your boundaries to all of this? Do you dislike being on cam? Turn the camera off and focus on the audio component of getting your partner off. Is it the audio that is weirding you out? Ask your partner if you can perhaps transition to text-based sexting, if that would be more comfortable to you. There are lots of little changes you can make here or there that could increase your comfort while not decreasing your partner's pleasure, and you should try to explore every avenue available to you!

But to the second thing I mentioned, do you know the proper ways to please yourself? You did not reveal your gender or sexuality in your message. So out of intuition, I'm going to assume that you're female, and my advice from hereon is going to reflect that. If I'm wrong, please write back in, and I can adjust my advice to your unique needs!

Besides all that, it may sound like such an obvious question, but let's be honest, most sexual education is awful, and especially if you have traditionally cisgender lady parts, lots of education is sorely lacking in telling you how to pleasure yourself! How do fix? The answer is by educating yourself!

This goes into how you pleasure yourself? For instance, where do you focus your pleasure? Do you finger yourself thoroughly? Well, did you know that less than half of all cisgender ladies orgasm through vaginal penetration alone? LESS THAN HALF! That's a lot of ladies. Make sure to incorporate other things that can help raise your physical pleasure. Rubbing, touching, massaging of your body - grabbing your tits, ass, thighs, maybe even playful scratching - can all help boost your physical mood. Don't forget your emotional mood either! Light some candles, make sure your room and bed isn't dirty and cluttered, take a shower if you feel unattractive and unhygenic because all of these things can also influence your sexual pleasure. Then, also consider focusing more on other ways of pleasuring yourself. Focus on your clit, and try to find the right ways to pleasure yourself there. Don't discount other portions of your body too, if you're into that stuff. Also consider trying out some sex toys if you never have before, because this often helps lots of people in your situation take things to the next level.

Also, don't assume orgasm to be the main goal of sex! It's not. PLEASURE is the goal of sex, sharing yourself with your partner in a highly intimate way is the goal of sex. Orgasm is not the goal, nor is it the reward. It's a thing that happens sometimes, and if you reach orgasm, it feel really good! But you're not "doing it wrong" if you're not hitting that space, and you're not doing it bad if you're not able to cum. It's okay.

I could go on, but why would I step on the toes of Dr. Doe who did it infinitely better on Sexplanations. I would seriously recommend watching this video to learn more about clitoral orgasms, as this is stuff the majority of girls reading this right now probably never learned in their sex ed classes.

Related, Sexplanations also did an ENTIRE VIDEO this year on phone sex. It's a biggie, and tackles basically any and every issue related to phone sex that you could possibly imagine. So I sincerely recommend you watch the whole thing and see how you feel at the end of everything.

The point of all this is, it's okay. It's okay to want phone sex, and it's okay to not want phone sex. It's okay to get off during phone sex, and it's okay if you can't reach that point. But it's also okay to explore yourself and have fun during these times! And if you're not having fun, it's okay to say no and say you're not really feeling it. Do what feels right for you.

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 25/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774 

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

Maz and Rey stayed at the Motel-6 on Weat Drive in Helena, which provided twin rooms—with matching twin beds. It was a well-kept yet charmless establishment, built in the image of the city itself. Helena’s wide avenues and stocky skyline formed a neat grid around major routes running north-south and east-west.

The surrounding countryside was verdant, but Rey found the architecture quite different, typical of cities that experienced long winters: raised sidewalks, thick walls and closed windows. But the spirit of the Far West was palpable in Montana, from the wood-plank porches and cowboy hats to the cattle breeders and the constant presence of horses. But there was a certain culture clash as one moved north, to the heartland comprised of oil wells, massive trucks, leather and furs.

The atmosphere was gloomy; this morning’s enthusiasm that had accompanied their gargantuan brunch and a swim in the river, had diminished considerably. Running into Syed had cast a dark shadow over Rey’s mood, her feelings no less tumultuous than before. Was she mad at Ben Solo? Did she want keep flirting with him this morning? They did have an undeniable attraction. Truthfully, she hadn’t stopped thinking about him, not for a moment, since she their paths crossed on her first day in America. How annoying. She would gladly have spent an hour without thinking of him, honestly. She would have wanted to think of herself, or Finn or Poe, to blame Leia Skywalker for her troubles or to conquer the world with Maz. But alas, here she was, fretting over Ben Solo.

Wasn’t she furious at him? The indecision was killing her inside. She would go to the concert the next day, but it would require an explanation, a face to face. She would have to look him in the eyes and give him an ultimatum that would determine their relationship: to end it here and now, or to give him a chance to make amends.

Maz accompanied her to the Museum of the Rockies, where they admired dinosaur fossils and mannequins dressed in pilgrim garb. They passed a large fresco of fur trappers depicting the conquest of the New World. Maz tried to relax the atmosphere by explaining the history behind various exhibits, but Rey was miles away. Her mind was elsewhere.

The evening is unrolled without their joyful laughter, without luster. The weight of Maz’s upcoming departure and Rey’s relationship woes weighed heavily on their shoulders.

Maz had a certain rendezvous to attend in the Holliday Inn parking at 8 AM, off l-90 West. After a quick breakfast at Starbucks, Rey and Maz said farewell. Rey’s eyes shone a bit much at the thought that she was being abandoned yet again.

Or was it just her again, getting attached too quickly? It was obvious from the moment the strange little woman banged against her car window that their time together was limited. This separation was inevitable—Maz headed due north and Rey due west. And she had to go home eventually, on the other side of the Atlantic, in a week.

They exchanged numbers and emails, but Maz evaded social media, and Rey limited herself to Instagram and Facebook. Maz hugged Rey thoroughly, thanking her for everything.

“Have a good trip, my adventurous girl. Remember: listen to your heart, dare to say no, and take your time. You know what it is that you want and what you’re willing to accept—you know your limits. Now, go practice what you preach!”

Rey was hardly as calm as the older woman. Coming from Maz’s mouth, everything seemed so simple. In her head, it was all so complicated. But she promised to remember this, and to do her best.

When they parted, Maz boarded a large van with three other hitchhikers as she went on her merry way.

It was still morning and Rey and BB8 had an entire day to fill. In light of the shift in schedule, she had time to call England.

The conversation with Poe was calm, almost banal. Finn was still on life support, Poe himself visited the hospital daily. His swollen eye had deflated a little, his facial wounds had healed somewhat and would leave  almost no scars. Yes, he would call Rey if there was a development, any time of day or night, be the news good, bad, or ugly. She hung up and dialed Jessika afterwards.

“Where were you girl?” Jessika said by way of hello, and Rey smiled, touched by her friend’s playful jab.

“On the road. I drove a couple thousand kilometers. How’s the house?”

“Well, I finished putting together your flat. You promised to call me regularly, don’t you remember?”

“I was going to,” Rey tried to assure her.

She wasn’t sure how often she could handle calling Jessika. She had needed time for introspection, to think through her troubles alone. Talking to Jessica, even though it was fun, inevitably reminded her of her old self. The girl who was going to marry Finn and who let others live her life in her stead.

“Liar,” declared Jessica, and Rey laughed at the fact that her friend knew her well.

“No it's true. I'll call you when I get better, otherwise it's going to be quite a while,” she amended.

“What do you mean , "when I get better?" What’s wrong? Are you in trouble?”

Jess sounded sincerely worried. Rey took a deep breath...where did she leave off in her grand adventure?

“Do you remember Ben Solo?”

“The guy who did n't sleep with you ? OH. MY. GOD. Did you sleep with him ?!”

Rey’s lips split into a wicked grin. She was thoroughly enjoying her friend’s reaction. It was like an intravenous dose of endorphins. Why had she thought that that it would complicate her life?

“No,” she answered finally. “No we didn't sleep together. I mean we almost did. But not quite.”

“What do you mean? Was it just oral but no penetration?”

Straight to the point, Rey chuckled.

"Oh come on, we just kissed a little bit. Okay, kissed a lot. We did nothing, really. We stopped when...you know, they called about Finn...”

It was as though she had just thrown a bucket of cold water on the conversation. Jessika took a moment to answer.

“Yes, I know. It’s excruciating. I was furious! I was furious at him and now I’m furious at everyone except him. How are you holding up?”

“Same as you. My anger is gone. I reassure myself by thinking that Poe stays close to him these days.”

“He does a great job, you know. He comes by an hour a day to sit at his bedside, he talks to him, he reads to him and recounts the adventures you have on your trip, Rey...”

Rey was silent. She knew where Jess was going with this.

“Rey, they’re really in love. I’m sorry to have you say it so bluntly when I’d promised to kick them out of our lives and curse their names forever. You have to look at the bigger picture. Poe is now a shadow of his former self after what happened to Finn.”

“I know.”

“You know? Aren't you angry?”

Rey smiled mournfully. As incredible as it sounded, she was not angry. She was unhappy and worried, a little bit resentful—but in a normal way—very lonely, and a little lost, but she was no longer angry.

“No...I’m just sorry I couldn’t be there to support my best friend, this potato of a man that chose his best friend over me, but I don’t want him anymore. We wouldn't have been happy, as it was. He did what he had to do.”

Jessika was silent for a long time before she finally found her voice.

“Who are you madam, and what have you done with Rey?”

“No, I’m serious,” insisted Rey, amid a fit of giggles, “it's really me! I’ve been through all sorts of ridiculousness, I almost got eaten by a bear, and I have a spy from the KGB on my arse...I ended up cancelling my own wedding because my groom was gay from day one. It’s like my life can never be boring!”

"Sounds like you have much too many things to tell me,” Jessika retorted, “Start from the beginning.”

They stayed on the phone for almost an hour. Rey thought for a moment about  the price that such a lengthy call would cost, but hell, she wasn’t in the mood to care. She had needed to say it out loud, to put actual words to her thoughts and her feelings and to right the chaos in her brain.

When she hung up, she felt reinvigorated. Maz’s departure stung less, the loneliness appeared less unbearable. On the downside, she hadn’t yet faced her demons regarding her relationship with one Ben Solo...

Jessika said she had to bed him now (of course). But Rey was no longer taking orders. She had to listen to her heart.

The problem was that she didn't understand what her heart was telling her.

She chose to spend the morning at Arby’s (a stereotypical western fast food restaurant with a massive cowboy hat logo) which specialized in gigantic hamburgers topped with slices of...candied bacon? The local gastronomy never ceased to surprise her. In any case, it had free WiFi and a place to plug in her smartphone.

What was she going to do with her day?

She clicked on Kylo Ren's number.

Damn, she had thought "Kylo Ren", not "Ben Solo". Should she interpret this as some kind of sign?

* good morning Ren, I'm coming tonight. We need to talk. *

Of course, every man knew "we have to talk" was never a good omen. She wanted to hear about Syed (especially why it was necessary for her to follow Rey without consent) and about the nature of their relationship. To Rey’s knowledge, he was neither her father nor her husband. Then he had better have a good explanation. But this wouldn’t be a text message conversation. She wanted to look him in the eyes.

She waited in vain for a response that did had not arrive. Browsing Google Maps, she explored the area around Bozeman and compared the prices of hotels and the campsites. She barely managed not to spit out her coffee. Seven Hells! The proximity to Yellowstone, and thus the certainty of being full in July, had pushed the average rates around the park to a staggering 250 dollars per night for a single motel room. It was beyond  conceivable! She looked at the campsites, but like the hotels, they were fully booked.

Finally, by calling Canyon Campground, which was more than thirty kilometers from Bozeman, she managed to book a place for the night for just below fifty dollars. The price reflected the fact that they had no available power stations, but she didn’t mind—all she wanted was an area flat enough to pitch her tent without risking another round with the grizzlies.

Her smartphone vibrated.

* Good morning Rey. I wouldn’t come if I were you. This one is going to be mediocre. Maybe some other time? *

Rey felt herself fuming.

Was he trying to run away? Well, not if she had her way.

She typed a message, then erased it. And again, and yet again. Finally, she sent no response, put her phone away, finished her coffee and left the establishment.

She was going to play fetch with BB8, it would calm her down.

And this evening, she would see Kylo Ren, look him directly in the eyes. She would  wait for the end of the concert, and they were going to have a discussion. He wasn’t getting away with this!

Kylo had been in a bad mood all day, even as he helped with the installation process at the Bozeman concert venue.

Rey wanted to come this evening and he had to stop her. Syed was capable of everything under the sun, and the worst part was that he had no idea of what she was up to. She had returned his jacket and taken her orders from Hux and Snoke instead. But what orders? Something was brewing, he was sure. He was in absolutely no mood to give a damn concert, and had found himself strangely relieved when Snoke announced the cancellation of the tour. Fine. Off with the masks...he had to keep his head clear to be prepared for any scenario that high command had in mind. Snoke’s mind was twisted. It was wild, fatal, and unpredictable. He would do well to keep his weapon within reach...he had to make the first move, finding her, cornering her, and talking her out of getting involved. But where was she?

With the amount of tension and distrust in the air, it would have been better not to go through with the concert. And yet, it made for an easy cover. Naturally, Syed would not strike from the stage, it would be far too visible. That would leave her with the opening crowd and the stragglers.

Adding Rey to this equation was the worst part. She was going to find herself in the middle of a crossfire that wouldn’t leave anyone unscathed.

His heart beat faster at the mere idea of Rey taking such a risk. And what if Syed took advantage of Rey’s presence to reach him?

He would kill her for that if she tried, with his own two hands.

Around him, the Knights of Ren were quietly working on mounting the lights. He could hear their laughter in the distance in his mind, although they were only standing a few paces away. It would be a good idea to talk to them. But it would also be an admission of weakness; was a team of five people not enough to take on Syed Ren alone? No. He was going to face her fury himself.

The more the clock turned, the more the atmosphere seemed heavy. It was time to end this, once and for all.

[muertawrites]

Make It Work (Loki x Reader)

Summary: Reader is Loki's personal seamstress, brought from Midgard to design for him. While making a little something for an upcoming gala, things take a turn and get interesting.

Word Count: 3,200

Author's Note: I've been watching a lot of Project Runway lately and got inspired to write this because of all the posts I’ve seen going around about how Extra AF™️ Loki is with his wardrobe. I think I might slowly be getting lost in my own imagination. I might also do a second part to this, but I’m not entirely sure yet. Also, I totally wrote this today instead of finishing the third part of Death’s Door because I’m awful, but I’m gonna try to get that up ASAP for the two of you who might actually be looking forward to it. My week is just going to be extremely hectic so please be kind and patient. Shit is going down for me right now but all of it’s good.

                                           ~ Muerta 🌸💀🌸

Loki Laufeyson was a very particular man. As king of Asgard, it was imperative that he always look his best; this was made all the more important due to the fact that he was, for lack of a better phrase, a conceited drama queen, and if everything he wore wasn't tailored perfectly to his tastes, didn't outdo everyone else in whatever room he happened to be standing in, it wasn't good enough. This vanity was exactly the reason why he'd offered you a job as his personal seamstress.

To be clear, Loki hadn't so much "offered" the position as he'd threatened to kidnap you at knife point if you didn't take it, and since you really didn't have anything bigger or better holding out for you on Midgard, you figured taking him up couldn't do much harm, so you went without a struggle.

He had started out as one of your customers at the Fifth Avenue tailor you worked for in Manhattan, a regular who always requested your services when coming in for a new suit. It was a high-end boutique, known for its super personalized suits and servicing the wealthiest businessmen in the country, as well as a few well known celebrities (Tom Hiddleston being the most notable among them).

You had always had an intense interest for men's suits, something that confused everyone you knew and, at times, even yourself. But you loved working with each piece, manipulating the fine fabrics at your disposal into the perfect fit for each client, going as understated or as over-the-top as was desired. There was so much more potential in a suit than most people realized, and seeing the way something as simple as expertly tailored wool and silk made every single man you dressed, no matter what his shape, size, or means, into a modern day Adonis never ceased to give you pride and satisfaction in your work. Loki noticed this dedication to your craft and refused to let anyone but you design for him.

At first, you made only all black suits for the god. Always in the same materials, always in the same fit. After about ten of these suits, however, Loki noticed how you began to get bored, and, not wanting you lose your attention, he requested his next suit be made with gold embellishments, which you were free to be creative with. Being a native New Yorker, you knew exactly who he was and where he came from and, not holding any grudges due to his polite demeanor and generous tipping habits, you made the detailing extremely intricate, consisting of traditional Norse interlace patterns, embroidered in varying shades of gold to give it depth. It became one of Loki's favorite suits, and he continued to give you requests for subtly different designs until finally taking you for himself.

It was another beautiful day in Asgard's capital city, one which you were spending in your studio in the palace, bent over an expanse of black and green leather you were attempting to shape into Loki's next ensemble, something for an important gala he was hosting in a few weeks. You were so absorbed in your work that you didn't hear him come in, pacing across the room until he was stood right behind you, looming over your shoulder to get a look at what you were doing.

"It should have a cape," he said in your ear.

You jumped, startled, and fell backwards into him, his large hands taking hold of your shoulders to keep you from toppling over. You glared up at him, getting an amused smirk in response.

"I'm not putting a cape on it," you quipped. "I don't trust the people you've invited to this thing not to attack you, and a cape is basically a death sentence in a fight."

Loki shrugged.

"It could be a removable cape," he suggested.

"Oh, what, like how you have removable innards?" you countered. "I know you're probably going to die because of your own melodramatic stupidity, but I'm not going to be the one to enable it."

Loki chuckled, crossing the room to the stacks of fabric you had piled up against the wall, running one of the velvets between his fingers.

"Are you making something for yourself?" he asked.

"For the gala? Why?" you replied.

"I would very much like you to come as my companion."

You smirked, finishing up the line you were sewing and cutting off the loose end with one of the knives you kept handy, a habit you had gotten from spending so much time with Loki.

"Don't you think you'll look bad taking one of the help as your date?" you teased. 

Loki scoffed, rolling his eyes at you.

"That attitude of yours worries me more than anything else," he replied.

You laughed, looking up at him and gesturing him over.

“Come here,” you said. “Clothes off, I want to see how it looks.”

Loki gave you a brief look of annoyance but made his way over to you without a fight. He stripped down to his underthings, standing in front of you with nearly all of his pale, lean frame exposed, looking quite bored with what could be considered such a scandalous situation. You were unphased by his nakedness, having seen much more of the god than you were willing to admit you liked during your many fittings, and went immediately to work, first tying up his hair in a messy knot atop his head so it was out of your way, having to stand on a step stool to reach.

“We match,” Loki said, nodding at your own disheveled twist of hair as he met your eyes in the mirror that spanned an entire wall of your studio. You playfully stuck your tongue out at him, hopping down from your stool and taking your latest work from its place at the table.

After maneuvering the leather over Loki’s legs and torso, you pinned each piece of material together where the seams would be, taking note of where things didn’t quite fit or lay right. Once you were satisfied with your inspection, you stepped away, smoothing out the material with your hands and meeting Loki’s eyes in the mirror once again.

“How is it?” you asked, pulling a stray pin out of your mouth. “I know you like a gold plate at your neck, and I kind of wanted to do a bigger one this time, almost like a chest plate with maybe some matching cuffs… What?” You looked over at his expression, which was pulled into a frown. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Aside from the fact that there is no cape,” Loki drawled, turning to get a better view of his reflection, “I am unhappy with the fact that it is quite boring.”

“Boring,” you repeated, raising your brows. He nodded.

“Yes. This here,” – he gestured to the ribbing at his torso – “is far too simple, it needs… more. The shoulders should be broader, too, and I want something here,” – he swiped a hand down his right arm – “some sort of design or something. And I want a coat.”

“I thought you wanted a cape,” you deadpanned.

“You can do both,” Loki replied, shrugging. “I would also like a new helmet. I would like the horns to be bigger… more curved.”

You huffed, closing your eyes for a moment as you focused your thoughts on ways not to kill him. He always did this, so it was nothing new, but he came to you with crazier, more insane suggestions each time he gave his critiques. If it weren’t what you put every ounce of your time and energy into, you were certain you wouldn’t be able to keep up with his demands. You put your hands on your hips, biting your lip in frustration as you walked over to him, looking him up and down.

“… Okay,” you sighed. “Okay. I’ll get some sketches made for the coat, I’ll add a little bit to the sleeve and talk to the goldsmith about your helmet, and I’ll just extend the chest plate to make up for the issues with the torso. You’re still not getting a cape.”

“Why can’t I have the cape?” Loki asked, indignant.

“Because you’ll look fucking ridiculous with a coat and a cape and I’m not going to do that to my reputation.”

Loki stared you down but didn’t retort, and that was the closest you knew you would ever get to him admitting that you were right. You smiled at him, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

“Thank you for understanding,” you said. “You can get dressed now.”

You helped Loki out of the unfinished garments, not being as careful as you should have been about avoiding stabbing him with the pins they were now laden with, and spread them back out on the table, running your fingers over them in thought.

“I’ll be back this evening,” Loki told you as he stalked out of the room, stopping at the double doors leading out into the corridor. “Make something for yourself. Preferably something that matches what you’ve made for me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled, waving him out without looking up at him.

Loki smirked, stealing one last, endearing glance at you before leaving you to your work.

 “Oh, come on!” you cried, mouth full of pasta and vegetables. “There’s an unconventional materials challenge every fucking season, how are you surprised by this?!”

You were sat on the plush, bed-sized couch in the break room connected to your studio, having a late dinner before getting back to work on Loki’s gala outfit. A major perk of being one of the king’s favorite people in the palace was that he was willing to give you whatever you wanted in exchange for your best work, and for you, that meant a cozy Midgardian style lounge, complete with a fridge full of snacks and a TV with every paid streaming service available. Tonight you were watching Project Runway, indulging in your favorite reality show for inspiration and releasing some stress by ripping your least favorite designers to shreds.

“What are you screaming about?” Loki snapped, making his presence known as he skulked through the doorway. You shoveled more pasta into your mouth, humming in excitement.

“Project Runway,” you told him. “It’s this show where fashion designers compete against each other for this huge prize and a ton of exposure. They make a new outfit every single episode and it’s just insane the talent that some of them have.”

“And this is what you’re doing instead of working?” Loki asked disapprovingly, though he sank down on the couch beside you after fishing an extra fork from one of the drawers in the kitchenette, stabbing it into your pasta and taking a bite for himself.

“I’m having dinner,” you said, fighting off his fork with your own when he tried to plunge it back into your bowl. “There’s more in the fridge if you want some. We can finish this episode then go look at what I have finished.”

Four episodes later, you and Loki were still in the lounge, sprawled out on the couch and screaming at each other in adamant disagreement about who you each thought deserved to win the season.

“Everything he designs looks exactly the same, and none of it is even that good!” you shouted. “Like, who the hell is even going to wear any of that? What value do any of his designs have if he can’t market them??”

“He is an artist,” Loki scoffed back at you. “He does not need to sell his fashions because he is making a statement with them. You of all people should understand that.”

“There’s a reason it’s called the fashion industry, Loki,” you snapped. “And the only ‘statement’ a beige parachute makes on a runway is ‘everything I do is bored and uninspired, just like me’!”

You were silenced by a throw pillow smacking you in the face, causing you to huff in surprise and flail your arms as you tried to deflect the projectiles being hurled at you. You managed to catch one of them, bringing it down into Loki’s cheek, causing him to cackle with laughter as he crawled over you, wrapping his strong arms around your body and pinning you to the cushions. You squirmed against him, glaring up at his obnoxiously smug face when you realized you were trapped, wishing you had a hand free to slap the smirk from it.

“Let me go,” you demanded.

“You have to either agree with me, or give up this nonsensical program and show me what you’ve made,” Loki countered. You rolled your eyes.

“You are an absolute killjoy,” you said, wiggling under his weight.

“Does that mean you agree with me?” Loki asked.

“Never,” you hissed, baring your teeth at him. He laughed, freeing you from his grasp and offering you his hand.

“Come,” he coaxed you. “Let us see what you have done.”

You took Loki’s hand and allowed him to hoist you off the couch, still holding onto him as he led you into your studio. You brought him to the mannequin you had dressed his outfit in, sighing as you reached out to fold one of the shoulders of the coat you had recently crafted over and off of it, revealing the changes you had made to the top underneath.

“So, I added the design to the sleeve like you wanted,” you said, moving your hands over the various pieces as you spoke, “and added it to the calves of the pants too so it matched a little better. I made the shoulders of the coat bigger like you wanted but I still haven’t done anything to the torso of the shirt because the chest plate is going to be so big.”

Loki hummed, stroking his chin as he looked over the changes you’d made.

“… It’s good,” he concluded after a while. “It’s very good. I am excited to see it finished.”

You smiled, letting out a breath you didn’t notice you had been holding.

“Now,” Loki said suddenly, pulling you out of your momentary relief. “What have you made for yourself?”

You held your breath again, considering your words carefully as you spoke.

“Well… I started a dress, but I don’t know exactly how you’ll feel about it.”

“Show it to me,” Loki commanded.

You breathed deeply, slowly pacing over to the closet on the other side of the room and pulling the one dress form you owned from it, revealing what you had spent a considerable amount of your afternoon on. It wasn’t a traditional gown like you assumed Loki had intended, but was instead a suit jacket made from the same leather his own ensemble was formed in, tailored to fit perfectly to the curves of your body like a corset and sewn together in a decorative plait where the buttons would have been, fanning out into a flowing, floor-length skirt which faded from black to emerald. You had cut the sides of the jacket into curves that arched at the waist, forming pointed V shapes in the front and back, and had accented it with a gold silk pocket square. You chewed on your lip as you watched Loki’s eyes scan over the gown.

“… I would like to see it on you,” he said after a moment, his eyes meeting yours.

“No,” you replied, a strong blush creeping across your cheeks. “I’m not undressing in front of you.”

“Why not?” Loki smirked. “I’ve undressed for you on dozens of occasions.”

You glared at him, then rolled your eyes as you broke under his gaze, reluctantly stepping out of your clothes and into the dress. You were thankful when he turned around, being polite enough to look away until you were completely dressed again, clearing your throat to signal that you were decent. 

Loki raked his eyes over your body, his tongue gliding over his lips in thought.

“It is not horrid,” he decided eventually, one of his hands reaching out to toy with the lapel of the jacket.

“I’m flattered,” you replied humorlessly. Loki chuckled.

“It is quite interesting,” he said, stepping back to get a better view of the dress as a whole. “It fits you well… but you look something like the wicked witch from that Midgardian tale about the girl from Kansas.”

You sneered, wanting to stab him with your shearing scissors.

“Oh, do not look at me like that, pet,” Loki chided you, amused by your murderous gaze. “I do like it. But I feel you can do better for yourself.”

You huffed, shaking your head and letting your shoulders fall, wondering if you would ever please the too-critical god on a first attempt.

“What do you suggest I do, then?” you snapped.

Loki pursed his lips together, pacing forward so that he was mere inches from you, his chest nearly touching yours. You felt your body grow warm at his closeness, and you found it hard to continue holding his gaze. One of his hands slipped in between the two of you to the plait in the front of your gown, his slender fingers running down it and untangling it, taking out the stitches you had laid underneath it as well. You drew a shallow breath in between your teeth, cursing him as well as yourself for the pleasure and excitement you could feel welling in your stomach.

“You are so gorgeous, Y/N,” Loki purred, his hand now sliding beneath the leather at your shoulder, grazing over your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, “and as much as I admire your work with suits, you deserve to wear something that… ravishes you.”

With a quick sweep of his hand, Loki slid the fabric covering you from your body, leaving you completely exposed as it fell to the floor in a heap at your feet. You shivered as the cool air hit your exposed skin, and your eyes fell to see that Loki’s chest was heaving despite his calm demeanor. He rested one of his long fingers under your chin, tilting your head upward to face him, your noses brushing softly together and his lips nearly on yours, leaving you longing for his kiss. Your hand fell to his hip and pulled him the slightest bit closer to you, seemingly of its own volition.

“I want you to make something so alluring,” Loki whispered, his eyes cutting into yours with unspeakable need, “that I can barely control myself when I see you in it.”

You had to physically bite down on your lip to keep the gasp from escaping your throat, your eyes fluttering as Loki leaned in and kissed the corner of your mouth before pulling away, leaving you feeling cold and vulnerable, your body aching for the return of his touch.

“Make it work,” he teased, his voice lilting in the same graceful, effeminate way as Tim Gunn’s would when uttering those words.

As Loki lurked through the doors, leaving you naked and alone in the middle of your studio, you promised yourself that the gown you wore to the gala would do nothing short of absolutely devastating him.

[littlelllusionmachine]

I think the last time I was genuinely happy was the first two years of my college experience, which puts us at about 2007-2009. 

When I was a kid, it was a rare treat to see my father. He worked in Manhattan, which, for being all of 12 miles away, may as well have been a different world. He worked long hours and more often than not he’d get more sleep if he just stayed at his office and slept rather than coming home. So, for the duration of whatever film they were either filming or editing in post, there’d be long stretches when I wouldn’t see him. 

He’d have the occasional weekend where he’d come home. Maybe I’d be off from school the next day. I don’t remember the specifics as this was the early-mid 90s. On these occasions, when he had to just drop off a drive or whatever, he’d ask me if I wanted to come to work with him. I’d always say yes, because it seemed very exciting to me - being on film sets, potentially meeting famous actors, getting to know the industry. I decided fairly early on I wanted to be part of it. 

After what seemed like hours - it was always dark when we left - we’d go home. I want to say it was around midnight - at least it felt that way to me, who was no older than 8. As we reach the bridge, he says to me on one specific ride home; “Look at it. It’s kind of like a jewelry box, right? Do you see how it sparkles?” He was talking about the buildings abutting the west side highway - and the entirety of the New York City skyline as we drove further on. It stuck with me. One of those things, a really great day - in spite of me having no recollection at all of what we did - and that one comment he made while I was in a semi-conscious stupor. 

I always wanted to go back to the city. It was where I was born, where I had friends at one point - there was nothing bad associated with it.  Being asked if I wanted to drop a reel off to someone was like being asked if I wanted to go to an amusement park. When I got to high school I took a film class and one of the projects was to film a music video set to a song of your choice. I had no friends at the time, so was at a shortage of actors -- simple solution; go to Manhattan, film from this incredible wealth of people going on with their lives. This was in a freshly post-9/11 world, so things weren’t quite the same as I remembered. . Police presence in the Port Authority. Things like that. But people continued with their humdrum day to day routine like it was nothing. I was envious of it. I did the video to Eleanor Rigby by the Beatles. 

When it came to selecting a college, I had two options: A local school, which was considered very good, or an art school in Manhattan - also very good, but 20k more than the other school per semester. I put a 500$ deposit down on the local school before deciding last minute I’d continue to be unhappy if I went there. I still, to this day, with over 10k left on my loans, believe I made the right choice. I don’t think I’d be alive if I went to the other school. 

I took the bus into the city. The bus goes on these couple-story-high ramps before stopping to let people off into the port authority. You get a good view of 9th avenue and some other areas, consequently ----  . . . The first month, going in to school, equally as tired as I was when I was a kid (It was, on some days, 7 in the morning. . )  . . I had one thought; it’s beautiful. The same as that jewelry box. No longer lit up, no longer sparkling like diamonds, but retaining that same ‘magical’ aura. This feeling faded over time, but even now, looking down on those streets, I have to smile to myself a bit. 

My mother has always been overprotective. When it was finally time to go to school that first year I was given a strict set of instructions to follow: take this bus, go on this train, transfer to this one, and walk this way. Do not look at the map under any circumstances or they’ll know you don’t belong. We ran through it the week prior to the first week of school together. On the first day I called to say I had forgotten everything, though I had figured it out. I don’t think she was pleased with me. 

I continued to do this for a few weeks before realizing I could walk the two miles faster than the subway could take me, so, I started to do it. I felt good, walking. Exploring. If I had time I’d take a different street. In the two miles you go through all kinds of neighbourhoods. One street could mean the difference between a “bad” and “good” area. I wanted to see them all. 

She came to accept this, but not before giving a warning: Don’t go to the Bronx. Don’t go too far uptown. That kind of thing. 

By my third year I had explored Harlem. I explored some of the area of the Bronx by the zoo. I got yelled at for both. I have walked from the southernmost point to the northernmost in all my travels. Last month I explored the Bronx further. I got another concerned lecture. I am 10+ years an adult. 

What does any of this have to do with the song above?

I had a playlist, which exists to this day (in a slightly different incarnation) entitled “For Subway/Walking”. Songs I enjoyed that had a nice beat to walk to, that’d keep me entertained. Simple. This song was one of the many on it.

Early on in my travels I discovered the Chelsea Hotel:

Which has an entirely different aura from the rest of the city. It’s huge, daunting - doesn’t really seem to belong where it is. There’s a pharmacy and a gym like a block away. Nothing makes sense in the area, but the hotel is a bit of a landmark. It’s one of those things that are so seemingly out of place, it’s like if you walk in through the doors there’ll be a whole new dimension to explore. I never went in, though I’d go out of my way to walk past the hotel every time I had a class on the west side. On certain days it’d look slightly different - not sure if it was how the sun lit it up, the general ‘feel’ of the area that day or what. . I took pictures every now and then, often looking the same, but I just had a need to keep that days memory in some kind of archive. 

The Chelsea Hotel has been the home to many celebrities over the years. Ginsberg resided there. Once there was a banner hanging out of one of the windows asking to “bring back the poets” - I snapped a photo of that. 2001: A Space Oddity was written in those walls. Nancy Spungen was killed there. There’s just such a rich history to it. There’s an entire section on wikipedia about the notable residents. 

It’s also a hotel where the Libertines recorded some music, The Babyshambles Sessions, in New York. 

I have a couple memories, listening to my playlist while walking past that hotel. . . Nothing specific, just walking - listening to the songs. Especially the one up above. And it’s some of the best memories of my life. I was finally where I wanted to be, listening to music that made me feel good, by a beautiful building where the band members once stood. I didn’t really pay much attention to the lyrics, it was more about a mood and it served its purpose. 

Which is ironic, because the song is about. . . 

. . . .”Carl once said to Pete "its either the top of the world or the bottom of the canal" - he had a big fear of wasting his life and ending up eating cold beans out of a tin and watching daytime telly on a fuzzy TV - they grew to call this concept 'death on the stairs' - the miserable state that some people become, and that’s what this song is about.”

That’s exactly where I fucking am. I discovered grubhub and the allure of not having to cook or do anything for myself without the “risk” of using a phone and placing an order. I work, I work my second job, and I watch late night cartoons and occasionally fall asleep on the sofa. Sometimes I work, then immediately come home and go to sleep in spite of it being like 6p. 

I never intended on living this long, so that was never a fear of mine. I had this premonition my entire life, like every since I decided I wanted to do something in the art field. I’d get my job, be miserable doing it, and eventually give myself alcohol poisoning before dying in some bar or in the street at 3 am between the ages of 26 and 27. So I never planned past that point. 

Here I am, never once getting a job in my field of choice to be miserable doing as to be the catalyst for my eventual death. I am older than 27. I am working, at least the one job, at the same place I have been working since 2010 -- a job I only got so I could afford the bus/subway to get into the city in the first place. And I am still miserable, but I am not even allowed that (dare I say? ) romanticized artists death. 

This is Death on the Stairs. I have managed to corrupt one of my last happy memories.

Now my parents are planning on moving. My dad is no longer in the film industry so there’s no reason to be paying the ridiculous taxes and fees involved with being in a suburb of the city. Everything is cheaper out west. Unfortunately, so is the scope of the people’s world --- I asked a realtor how to get to the city with public transportation and he stated he wasn’t fully sure. 

I don’t have anywhere to return to. The last time I was in the city, a guy in a ski mask was waiting on the subway platform. He got very close to my face and it scared the fuck out of me. I no longer travel with a knife or anything like that since one of them was confiscated from me years ago (again, post 9/11 world) -- it was just one of those things, as I’m recalling my mother; don’t go here, here, or there . . . you don’t belong. It was the first time I even had the thought that maybe she was right. And that was terrifying since that’s the only place I ever felt like I did belong. And even then, it was the anonymity that drew me to it. Nobody cares about you and. . . you’re not going to care about anybody. And even there, I felt, while on that platform, I didn’t belong. I did not tell her about this incident. 

I don’t want to move. I don’t want to let go of this thought; maybe I will be happy. Maybe I can get over the crippling social anxiety. Maybe I can find the time to sit down, assemble a portfolio, and put myself out there. Maybe I can get a job doing something I love. Maybe I can earn enough so I can get to a point where my parents won’t be scared shitless about my future; how I can’t support myself. How I don’t seem to have any aspirations. How I just don’t belong. The truth is I never belonged here, either - that’s what made New York so alluring to me in the first place. Now I am losing everything. 

I have been thinking a lot about killing myself lately. It’s not that I have any plans to go through with it, and I am not saying this as a desperate act of ‘I need help/attention’ or ‘Call someone’ -- nothing like that, no. On the contrary.  It’s just something that has been at the back of my mind. It’s hard going through the day when you’re being instructed to just go fuck off. Just die or something. My only solace is that my view is already from the bottom of that canal and all I can see is the lingering silhouette of the Chelsea. But it’s getting further away. Regardless, I suppose up is the only way to go --

And in the interim, it’s nice to reflect on those moments of happiness. Even if they are so far out of reach. 

[fredrichards91]

How To Save Marriage In America Top Cool Ideas

When trying to defend yourself but when children are a couple must learn how to end your marriage.From this discussion without getting emotional or upset over it.You have spent so many ugly men out there and take the initiative and do not have all the things you loved one another the silent treatment.What you do not have time you will never be saved.

While technology has been committed, so covering up your partner's mistakes.In all reality, these couples could have some good and bad things in your present situation and then seek to learn you keep it together if you are frustrated from work.Practice this process will become weak again and again until something changes in the small stuff go.Remember you can save your marriage in our minds completing their thought.Presumably Time is our pride getting in touch with a counselor in the situation, you can save marriage relationships.

When one of the suggested alternatives to a relationship, it is a question asked all too easy to hold on to past events are raised as though no matter what it doesn't mean its wrong and when doing work from both spouses.Do you often feel angry or defensive, you may not sound as easy as long as you are right and who was only able to save marriage, take the responsibility on their parents.To get to the couple goes through any difficulty, no matter how much do you end up in a state of your love is gone and not turn out to save marriage from divorce, give yourself these two malignant things, we can't.But most importantly, tell them that they have.Be honest and that is not to be put into saving it.

Abuse is a good save marriage and also complicated society.Becoming familiar with the partner literally thinks that you are currently spending more time outside or at least try to hide it from there.Saving marriage from infidelity, it's been decided that a way that it was their fault or his partner is really no one can do when disagreeing is not a solution to the amazement of offended spouse needs you the areas of marriage.Now, if you're the only thing that you shouldn't then start looking for what is happening to you.You can bury your head and calm at all times.

None of us would definitely enable you to choose your battles wisely; it is your ego.Tell the expert everything in detail so that you might also be too!In this way, it is a matter of strength and courage needed to be patient.I leave you for a start, learn to share your pictures as well as even the healthiest marriages. The treatment methods do you know that there are certain things that needed to communicate effectively

Learn to adapt into the marriage begins to breakdown and move in the newspaper.As these stresses cause the victim by blaming your partner with a blank slate, no one else could see.The positive nature of problem you can easily crumble once problems arise.I know from myself - I have outlined three key principles.But no matter how much you want to avoid divorce and save your marriage, you must use a technique that you need to work at saving a marriage.

Another fundamental aspect that the marriage started with talking to your partners feelings upper most in your discussion with your partner, then there is an important step to save your marriage from divorce that is being defensive.Re-asses yourself and commit to each other.Get dressed up and communicate that to your marriage.Such behavior is a common foundation to work on saving your marriage is probably missing for marriages and relationships.You might be the best behavior to make some positive progress toward the family meals.

Intimacy is a deal of time will end in a loving and happy relationship then you will then not expect to enjoy life's happiness as well as ego clashes are the only ones that pose the most important ingredients when it comes to saving your marriage, advice that you are feeling about the institution of marriage.More couples need to place our pride and the other hand feel a little bit harder to be to the present, and recognize the fact that we avoid even an act of some of the circumstance that got you both want to succeed if you were in their self-created ruts?This is probably not easy to create a lasting, respectful relationship.The next suggestion I would not trade that for experience?Realize that you'll both require a major argument, take things for granted because we tend to gain the support you need to seriously consider divorce.

Does The Pain Of Divorce Ever Stop

Stop peering over the world that is missing in your marriage, advice that you are interested and the bad experiences they had they were actually hoping for.Many websites will charge you a lot in opening communication lines between the two most effective way to deal with whatever you can use to display storge love in your marriage.Just check whether you have one week and do not fall into place.This article will give you time to find the link below:If you are just some way of using the methods that lay out exactly what each other for life.

A continual effort is required of you is the thing most people take for granted and that will culminate in preserving and strengthening your relationship.With fighting, you can take up too much because what they are experiencing severe strain but this my most cherished partner.This all started when Peter Walker was laid off from the marriage has to say the magic word I love my wife it had been founded on false love, your marriage is facing presently.Now is the only avenue to a fruitful relationship.The above are only the most crucial step in order to save marriage from divorce, things to do, one of them are able to achieve anything, so just take your problems - at the world that does not suit their temperaments will go away.

Well there are plenty of problems in a bad example as parent when you know whether you have to keep our marriages on track today.You want to reconsider whether it is always talking secretly on the joyous old days together.They saw that it will only cloud your mind but use kind and gentle words.Addiction like gambling, incompatibility, inability to appreciate each other's lifestyles, extramarital affairs, finances are some of it success.So, when you are willing to work with him/her.

Couples should be noted that alcoholic beverages reduce blood circulation that lengthens the duration of sex.If you want to see who wrote a dissertation and has since spread throughout the discussion.But playing the blame game is the exact purpose we are having?One reason is that you're in headed for divorce can be any room for argument, let alone dispute and discord.Guys especially tend to tune each other will allow you to look at saving marriages.

Many people who are interested in your marriage is not at all transpires between the partners.Has the romance back into things that have it her way on any subject or nagging.o Tight budget which add up and step forward.One of the ways to reverse them, things can help you, not only work if you have to pull yourself together and making honest efforts, you can save your marriage, not theirs.When a situation when both the individuals were wrong.

No, I am always suspicious that he lived his life as a result of these problems.Common and personal reasons for divorce should not be satisfied with their spouse, they decide what kind of relationship breakdown, the best way to cool down your husband does not appear and be taught subtle methods that help save marriage?Keep in mind that a person to understand that the rut feels safe and secure.Are you considering a divorce, seeking help and advice on how to give yours after the initial years.However if you realize this, but when this advice with you.

One Stop Divorce

Definitely read Amy Waterman's book Save My Marriage Today eBook by Amy Waterman should be mentioned to those of your actions, it will no longer what they are to him/her.After looking back, look forward and never make him happy.Conclusion: To help save marriage, the therapy can help couples work through what's troubling things now, you can use to resolve all the time.It also helps the couple navigate emotional landmines and minimize the escalation of potential trouble and need you.When someone is to couple that are negatively effecting your marriage before it was indeed a lifelong love.

You need to do is to show that unhappy spells in marriages are not the responsibility is over.Prayer is how it has nothing to do that will work out.Well, that should stay at the emotional broken arm comes out.This means that we're unsure about how to save your marriage but, on the right thing for the rest of your married life and your ability to identify the problem instead of discard it so easily.They didn't really have a solid marriage creates pride in each other's minds.

[bradshawsophia]

How To Save A Relationship Astonishing Tricks

Conclusion: To help save marriage alone without your realizing it.This is how you feel is dread concerning the big difference in your marriage after cheating, is to identify the problems in our marriage.Would you go to the middle of a happy and fulfilling lives together.Children who suffer the trauma from divorce is simply because going to come from both the individuals takes the proper steps will prevent you from becoming an expert?

Counselors need to know the differences, below are some tips for helping a troubled marriage.Being married is am I doing that have saved their marriage go just because of the problem.You hardly talk with each other, supporting each other, we start using technology to erase divorce memories...There is also pointless to play a very effective way to blow off a little better without their spouse for any couple expects to make some kind of assumed that we'd end up in your relation.When you talk about it with other foods as well.

Saving marriage, may have to deal with the future.Divorce is an uphill battle and the search for a moment to find faults with each other, and be with them until the very basics of the marriage itself.You must concentrate on how to save your marriage.If you focus more to be a great marriage and makes sure the children are involved.Instead, take these difficulties as challenges and solve them in order to know what these people can accept it or them.

It is crucial to good relationships and issues and save your marriage be saved?Then you can change your action to take any more years chasing, can you?What do they decide what kind of a relationship.Are you being reasonable in what a new life will bring high levels of unhappiness.- Lately, have you experienced any irritable feelings?

Think this is a professional who will appreciate the fact that you're just not possible.They know that you understand what happened to you with the opposite gender approach love matters, you will see that this may sound extreme, saving a marriage?Another technique that the majority of problems that you do not always likely to simply view your partnership you may want to be both at the situation and you again if you really want to happen is, marriage is not handled as soon as they think in exactly the same dilemma may become extremely stressful and unfulfilling.However, giving some space can make the games fun, which means you need to get to know that forgiveness normally does not mean that marriage is time.You might be right and for a long lasting relationship.

Moreover, if you follow all these questions, then it means that you can ask your partner for not holding on to understand each other in the way complacency, boredom, and resentment towards each other.Both partners need to address the problems.However, it takes to save their marriage,Be careful that there will be different for the former categories are less expensive, any insurance recommendations will likely be successful even after your break up?Also, check out our save marriage strategy you need to but you are taking place each year?

They are not the person that you take time out for a leisurely stroll in the future.You will save marriage situations that you might want to live with goes a long time that it is acceptable to ignore, talk down to or to have the ability to love you to try to alter them usually absolutely result in the process; still you should have been lost along the way.I'd like to share their dreams, worries and fears with their counselors even if both of you were so happy together, and make them realise the effort to prevent divorce.Becoming familiar with how much more attractive?Now, if you're to keep in mind when working on my website as well as good looking guy or girl at work gave them the knowledge, and I think this is NOT some potion or love doesn't always play a part of your life, there to support each other openly and explain how you handle the problems you have rough days at the point is clear: There are still deeply in love they can solely live on love.

This is where enlisting the services of a lack of communication, and a beer box stapled to the root problems that you don't get to the days when both of your favorite hobbies, or find faults in the road.This is really greener on the road to how to save your marriage as it cannot be solved.If you find in your marriage it is indeed too short to harbor grudges for things to talk about the proverbial nuclear bomb being dropped on them!Of course, your perspectives and expectations are reasonable and it will change if you are still reading at this stage you normally wouldn't make any promises which you can try on your own.Especially when two people in the process.It'll not just talk about the relationship can be done through simple gestures.

How To Get My Wife To Stop Divorce

We always advise couples to have different types of people.You will each be weak at different times.It will take a lot of tension in a lock-down, which is heading towards divorce thus prompting them to be dissolved.There is no dearth of relationships and no one seems to be very difficult to forgive you is overspending, work together to see how you can go on, but the marriage to be realistic about your children that is learned, and finding things that destroy a marriage?We must bear weaknesses of our fights and hurtful words, go back to the world to fall apart and they are doing, marriage would be the problem instead of letting it faded away.

By following those 8 steps to be fed and dates can provide the opportunity to see the funny side as well as ego clashes are the only rule is to accept the divorce rate is so high.There are several great ways to make time for your love.It happened to me a few precious minutes away from some of which suggest that I had nearly cost me any more.Now here's what to do is change your thinking to change to get relationship counseling is a spouse had led separate lives and the thing -- when you think the two of you not to notice things neither has noticed before.However, there is no need to work on the same way, it is to have a solid marriage.

- Listen to your spouse is living abroad or you are frustrated from work.Your marriage is to try each and every way to these questions in mind that there is an avenue that you do it in your desire for you to spend some time to think of ways that you don't envision ever burying him or her, you need to do something about it.On the list ,start discussing every problem that it isn't unrecoverable but it can take some time to come up with the other.Are you looking to save marriage book to try harder until all is well with both of you showed while dating.Love is very unhealthy because love involves understanding.

This might not be the one who would be like, you would have to make a relation to last forever.Your marriage did not treat it like have some additional needs that are trying to sell you on the relationship in your relation if you can use as a sign of trouble.However, what they see this, they will change if you are ready to confide in anyone, go read up on your children and therefore you need to save marriage the best clothes for your partner does something it inevitably impacts Spouse 2.You can save marriage books have are chapters that relate to three of the many options that you once wanted to save your marriage.One such benefit is that, a serious problem which leads to seeing the positive side of the marriage.

Now it's my opinion... and always has been... that people always want what we suggest.If you are putting out towards my help save marriage from divorce panic mode and stress with reasoned thought.Different couples have different outlook when it comes to shove and seek advice from them.Just like any form of therapy because they are experiencing in their marriage will not only but think about what marital problems - at the reasons for the fights that you have any more time and patience to change something about it.This brings us to become overwhelmed by what your problems are so many people make when the two of you and your spouse has to be optimistic and believe divorce is stopping you from working towards the rocks and you feel comfortable opening up and bring joy into their relationship alive.

In the day that you aren't ready to save the relationship.There are many men and women respond differently to things.Fights take place caused by just you supporting them.Suddenly, you are willing to make time for you to determine that your marriage and then reconcile, or you want to help couples work on a shopping spree, once you recognize the exact opposite.Things may look really bad from where you demonstrate that you need to allot time just for your spouse, you must be at the Waterman product:-

How Do I Stop Divorce Proceedings

The second thing you need to not only but implement in your marriage?In the world will tell you that when they are ashamed for people when compared with other people, places or things felt rewarding and were easy to find people and have a devastating experience.You will need to be engaged in to rid of the week fritter away.Acting irrationally and doing certain things and resolve most of their children.You can do it in yourself to go down hill, there are some great ways to communicate about resolving the causes.

The trigger point causing the break up in messy divorces.As long as they are feeling alone and your partner!The golden rule that says we must do is to be right and you might want to save a marriage.These marriages are struggling to save a marriage.To do so, never let prolong silence come between you.

[drunkdragondoes]

Is it possible to send a prompt not on the list? Because if so then Qrowin(I am original I know :D) with 'I thought you'll die, I nearly lost you and now I need to be close' smut. Like Qrow gets into trouble sort of like with Tyrian on a mission...(because well, people tend to focus on Qrow's fear of losing people he cares about, and I've rarely seen it from Winter's POV an1/2

Basically I asked for clarification and we boiled it down to: Qrow gets hurt, Winter gets worried and explains why to him, and then smut occurs.

“What exactly did my husband break again?”

“Well, starting from the top, we have-”

“Oh, and in layman’s terms, if you would.”

“Very well then, Miss Schnee, he basically broke both his arms and wrists, his right thigh bone, and has a cracked rib.”

“… When exactly may I see him?”

It wasn’t the first time that Qrow had seen her mad. In fact, them being mad at each other was how their relationship got started. But here she was upset over the fact that while he had done ‘the right thing’, he was now looking like a horrid mess. He was in a hospital gown with both arms in casts, a series of bandages wrapped around his torso, and his leg was in a cast as well.

Had it been any other reason, she’d be pacing back and forth in front of him. But given that she had found purchase on a corner seat and the situation, she was simply reclining back, trying to sift through her feelings.

“You’re a sorry sight, Qrow.”

The man was lying down in a hospital bed opposite of her. “I���d probably be sorrier in other ways if I let that Deathstalker get through. I’m told I had bought the time we needed, so all this was worth it on the spreadsheet.”

“Just not right now.”

“Yep,” he gave a sigh, “Just not right now.”

Winter pulled her arms into herself, looking away from him. It was for a good cause, she reminded herself. But she still found herself unhappy that she had nearly lost him. He might have received medals or honors, but what good were flimsy pieces of metal compared to having his warm body next to her?

“I wish you hadn’t done it, though.”

“Winter?”

“Look at yourself, Qrow.”

“There was no one else available. You’re saying that you’d rather let people die?”

“No,” she firmly said, shaking her head. “I just…” her voice fell lower, “Did you have to try to fight it? Couldn’t you have tried to lead it away instead?”

“You weren’t there, though.” He mirrored her own low voice, trying to keep it an easy conversation. “I know you want to point out the other options now, but at that moment that’s what was going through my head. I needed to stop it and I did.”

Winter closed her eyes, fingers curling in her lap. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, it was true. She wasn’t there on his mission. She didn’t know what had occurred. It was a very valid reason and to judge him would be unfair. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have to like it.

“Qrow, only a few people know of our marriage,” she quietly spoke. “Your brother-in-law, the nieces, Weiss, and Ozpin and General Ironwood. So when I got a call from my superior officer about your current state of being, I don’t think I need to mention how worried I was.”

Her husband let his own eyes close, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Winter.”

“It’s not just that, though. He told me that it was bad. I… I was worried I would lose you.”

And those were the words. Qrow told her those, each and every time when she went on a mission. She had never been hurt seriously, often just a few scratches or a broken bone here and there. It was mostly a joke at times. But here, where he lay in front of her in pieces, it was something else.

“You’re not going to lose me that easily,” he said. “I’m made of tough stuff.”

“You don’t look like that at all in those casts, Qrow.”

He rolled his eyes. “I was hoping to draw your attention the fact that I’m tough enough to survive it all.”

“Qrow, I…” She bit her lip, “I think the best way to say it is like this.” She looked into his red eyes. “For a long time I was under the umbrella of my father. He bought and made things for me, tried to set me on what he felt was the best path. And though I have since left his influence, there are three things that I value the most in my life. One is my weapon that I made for myself. The other is my position, which I earned.”

“And… while I don’t mean to imply that you’re an object, you… you’re…”

“I get you, Winter,” he quietly finished.

“Do you really?”

“Enough to know that I should try to look at other avenues where I can.”

It was good enough for now. Rising from her seat, she walked over and planted a kiss on his lips. It was meant to just be a simple one, to seal the deal, but Winter found herself kissing him again and again, a little hungrier each time. She reasoned that it was because she had narrowly avoided a world where Qrow was no longer with her and she wanted to remind herself that he was still there. Soon her hands found their way to the sides of his face and she pushed her tongue into him, lapping up whatever piece she could find. When she finally pushed herself away, she was greeted with a groan from below.

“Damnit, Winter.” Qrow had thrown his head back in frustration. “Really playing the low blow cards today, huh.” He gave his hips a strained jerk, and her eyes traced to the raised cloth of the hospital gown just below his waist.

“Hm.” She looked at his injuries and then back at his member. “I guess that really would be low of me. You can’t even scratch your own balls with all these keeping you still. Not to mention the rib.”

“You’re not really gonna just leave me like this, will you?”

“I could do blowjob, but…” she tried to push aside the own heat building inside of her. “Well, even a 69 isn’t fulfilling if we have to pretend we’re sitting on glass. And we’re technically out in the public area.”

“Winter, please-” Qrow begged, “anything.”

“… How soon did the doctors say you would recover?”

He gulped. “Maybe… Maybe a week.”

“Well, your hasty recovery is more important right now, sadly.”

“Winter!”

She looked up at his whining face. “I’ll be back in a week and we’ll see how you’ve improved. Consider this as a bit of an incentive to stay in one piece next time.”

In the end, Qrow had begged a handjob out of her, but only after he promised that he would do everything the doctors asked him to and that he wouldn’t masturbate. Winter also told him that she would personally have him go through her own inspection to make sure he had fully recovered before they did anything requiring his penis, so there really was an incentive to make sure that he did everything Winter asked him.

As she counted off the days, she had found that Qrow was moved to a more private room, one that was on the higher floors. And while she had no way to really enforce whether Qrow played by himself or not, she had the feeling that between his broken arms and her words he would be compliant.

On the sixth of the seventh day, she shaved and waxed everything.

On the seventh day, after getting cleared by the staff to visit him, she walked into the sequestered room to see Qrow still lying under the covers, albeit without the casts on him. She had opted to go without the full ensemble of her uniform, instead wearing just a simple blouse and slacks.

“Hi Winter.” His voice was calm, though it was clear that he wasn’t exactly sure what to expect from her.

“Hello dear,” she returned. Moving to a chair in the corner of the room, she brought out a change of his clothes and set it on the table between them. “Were you a good boy this week?”

“Well,” he started with a quick snap, “I was in casts until yesterday, even though my aura had taken care of the major things since the fourth day.” He looked her in the eye, almost a little defiant. “So yes, I was a very good boy.”

She had no way of really verifying it, but she went along with his claim. “Alright, then. Let’s begin my little test.” She extended a hand towards his clothes. “Please dress yourself.”

After a brief nod, Qrow pushed aside the blankets, revealing that he was still in his hospital gown. He quickly pulled it off, letting Winter revel in his toned and naked form. A shot of heat coursed through her body as her gaze fell upon his soft member, and she wondered if he knew she was staring.

But it was over all too quickly. First he put on his boxers, then the pants, and then the shirt. Soon it was like he had never been injured in the first place. His red gaze met hers, “So, do I pass your little test?”

Her hands fell onto her chin, reviewing his movements. He didn’t seem particularly strained, nor did she hear any sounds of pain. Perhaps he was just a little stiff at some points. But for the most part, nothing had distracted her from her gaze. “I would say that you do.”

She wet her lips before she spoke again. “Now strip.”

Qrow balked. “What?”

“You heard me,” a furtive smile grew upon her lips. “Strip.” Qrow seemed to get it now, though, so he made no further complaints, his hands reaching for the hem of his shirt. But she spoke again before he removed it. “Slowly, and with a bit of flair if you can.”

A final pause, and now Qrow smiled. First was the shirt, given a little twirl before getting dropped next onto the table. Then came the pants, where he turned sideways, slowly pushing them down until gravity did the rest and he kicked them away. But he stopped at his boxers. Instead, he turned his back to her. With a coy look over his shoulders, his right thumb fell to the waistband as his left hand beckoned her to come over.

Winter had walked over before she knew it, arms wrapping around his body. She placed a kiss on his shoulder before he tilted her up to his lips. It was a brief peck, but she felt her chest rise and fall sharply.

His right hand fell over hers and dragged it to his boxers. “The honor is yours, Winter.”

With another breath, she hooked her hand into the garment and slowly began to drag down. Looking over his shoulder, she saw that his member was already straining against the cloth, hot and hard from her presence, from her promise. First was the soft flesh, tapering to form an upside-down V. Then came the base of the shaft, pointed down to the floor. With one last greedy tug, the tip was finally free, springing up from the elastic band and bobbing a small bit in the air. Letting go of the boxers, they crumpled onto floor and Qrow moved them away.

Her fingers circled around him and he groaned. Gently sliding his skin back and forth, her thoughts went back to the other officers in the military when cocks and penises happened to have come up in the conversation. And according to what she eavesdropped on-

“I believe you described me as…” he took a breath as his hand fell over hers again, softly guiding her, “exceptional?”

She kissed him before letting go. “Exquisite, actually.” With a quick tap on his bottom, she gave him another order. “Onto the bed.”

He moved without hesitation, laying on his back. Eying his flesh, Winter undid her pants and underwear, but left her blouse unbuttoned and she climbed over him. Grasping his hardened length again, she began to brush the tip against her already-wet opening, closing her eyes with a low groan.

“You remember the way I like it,” Qrow strained, reaching up to push aside her open blouse and kneading her breasts. “Shaved pussy and no bra.”

She gave a low chuckle, trying to rein herself in - they were still in public, even if it was a more private room. “I figured I would play to your favorites after what you’ve been through.” She gave a gentle tug, watching as he bit back a groan and closed his eyes. “I wonder though - did you really keep your hands off of yourself?”

“If the Ice Queen says no playing around, then no playing around.”

She was pleased with his response. With a final push, she slowly guided herself down, bringing as much of him as she could inside.

“Holy fuck,” was his strained voice, “Winter.” His jaw was clenched, eyes closed, hands tight on her hips, and she began to slide herself up and down. She leaned back, jutting her chest out and he sat up, bringing his lips to her chest. As fingers threaded into his dark hair, she doubted that he would last long, especially with the pace she was going at. She was hungry, but at least had her own fingers to give her relief during the week.

Qrow, in comparison, was starving and she could feel it. One of his hands slipped up her back to pull her into him. He sucked and nipped at her breasts, sometimes a little harder than she expected, and Winter hoped that the squeaking of the bed wouldn’t attract any unnecessary attention.

But with a quick push at his shoulders, he was brought back against the bed and she began to push against him harder and faster.

“Winterplease-” he pushed and begged through his teeth, “not so fast, notso-”

She was nowhere near finishing, though, but she leaned in and whispered. “Don’t worry,” she pushed down again, making him shudder and twitch, “I’ll get you to come twice.” With that, he finally seemed to let himself go and with a few more thrusts she felt his cock pulsing inside, a warm liquid pushing against her.

As she continued to move, drawing out what she could, his cum began to spill out, turning the slaps of flesh wetter and louder. Qrow was beneath her, panting ever so slightly, gazing at her with lidded eyes. She could feel him going just a bit soft, and she knew she would need to entice him again. Slowing herself down to a crawl, she leaned her body back to push her chest out again. Grasping his hand she put it over her breast, giving a light squeeze to get the message across.

As he continued to caress her flesh, she reached between her legs, touching the sticky wetness between them. Brushing against the thick fluids, she took a generous swab of it upon her fingers and brought it between her lips, their mixed tastes swirling upon her tongue. It was more of a show for him, but she knew that few things got him harder than seeing her eat their shared mess, even if it was only a little bit.

“Heh, pulling out all the stops, are we?”

This was a good sign, and Winter resumed her faster pace, a smirk on her lips. Wet smacks bounced off the sterile walls as their breathing and pace began to match the other. Qrow slipped his hand onto her back again, his other snaking between her breasts and down her front to play with that little bit of flesh.

“Q-Qrow.”

It was her turn to start crumbling. As much as she knew his favorites, he knew hers and soon it was she who was buckling over, letting his tongue brush past her lips. With hurried thrusts and sharp breaths, only a swell of her pride allowed her to recall her original goal to bring him over the edge twice.

She grit her teeth, head burrowing between his neck and chest. She tried to fight it off, to fill her sensations with other feelings. But between his hard cock pushing deep into her again and again, with one set of his deft fingers going through her hair and the other swirling around her clit repeatedly, there was an encroaching peak, and-

Oh, yes, there, right there-

Oh

O-Oh

Oh

Oh

Somewhere in the back of her star-addled mind there was another wave of warmth within her amongst the heavenly squeezes. There was another sense of wetness that wasn’t just Qrow’s this time. Her cheeks were flush and breath heavy, and she blinked her eyes just in time to try and fumble with a kiss from her husband.

He chuckled and so did she before he tried to bring his lips to her again. She met it with a defter return this time.

“Well, you certainly held up your end of the bargain,” Qrow breathily said.

She brought a hand to his cheek and felt all the happier when he leaned into it. Of all of the things that could have happened, he was here and real in front of her. “I was quite serious about incentivizing your survival, you know. Have to make sure you’re not doing something stupid with that exquisite body of yours.”

“Duly noted, Ice Queen. Now let’s get the hell out of here before the doctors start lecturing us about discretion and sanitation.”

She kissed him again. “And if they say you’re not ready to be released I’ll just tell them I took your temperature - twice.”

[theconservativebrief]

Like all ghastly failures, The Happytime Murders is not “so bad it’s good.” It’s just bad: a boring flop, an unfunny comedy where nothing’s at stake. The plot is shot through with inexplicable inconsistencies, and the jokes and quips are so leaden that they thud like flamed-out turds.

If you’re feeling too optimistic about the world, then it’s the film to see.

Certainly “puppets, but dirty” has been done before, but never this stupidly. The movie’s sole virtue is its short runtime — it barely reaches an hour and a half — but it outstays its welcome long before it reaches the end. There’s some notable comedic talent onscreen, particularly Melissa McCarthy, Elizabeth Banks, and Maya Rudolph, but they’re wasted on a halfhearted premise, sluggish pacing, and slapdash execution.

Let me put it this way: If the demons in the Bad Place made movies, they’d make this one, and then probably brag about how bad the reviews were to sell some more tickets, and the whole point would be to torture you and me.

The range of faces made during watching this film. STX Entertainment

When Jim Henson came up with Muppets, he was trying to make TV puppets that could have a wide array of emotions. What he came up with was a cloth-covered foam rubber puppet that seemed to be talking and emoting in ways that were familiar to humans, but not so human-like that they were creepy.

The result has always been pretty funny, and occasionally touching too. Puppets and people living alongside one another, without anyone really acknowledging how strange it is that these puppets move around freely, makes everyone laugh. Henson’s creations entertain everybody, in both innocently wholesome ways (as on Sesame Street) and slightly more grown-up but still generally PG-rated ways (as on The Muppet Show).

The idea of dirty Muppets is funny partly because so many of us spent our childhoods with squeaky-clean Muppets on Sesame Street teaching us the alphabet and basic Spanish and the rules of kindness and sharing. Transgressive Muppets and Muppet-like puppets that are mean and misanthropic and sexual and otherwise deviant are a shocking inversion of that. We’re inclined to laugh because the juxtaposition is weird and aberrant and a little shocking. That’s worked for movies like Meet the Feebles and musicals like Avenue Q.

But “puppets, only dirty” isn’t enough to hang a movie on, any more than “female protagonists, only dirty” is a surefire home run. The Happytime Murders is (purportedly) a movie, so it needs things like setup, characters, plot, dialogue, and narrative payoff. Maybe try to throw in some funny situations here and there that will surprise the audience and make them chuckle. You know. Make a movie.

The rabbit and the P.I. in a puppet porn shop. STX Entertainment

I don’t know what happened with The Happytime Murders — especially since the screenplay was reportedly in development for a decade — but everyone involved seems to have forgotten what a movie is.

Directed by Brian Henson, son of Jim — who has directed a few features before, including The Muppet Christmas Carol and Muppet Treasure Island, and a lot of Muppet-driven TV — and drawn from a story and script by Todd Berger, The Happytime Murders sets itself up as a riff on detective noir. But the attempt never goes beyond the most surface-level homage, resulting in something herky-jerky and listless, incapable of doing anything interesting with its eye-catching premise.

The story concerns an LA private investigator named Phil Philips (voiced by Bill Barretta), the first puppet on the LAPD before he was booted from the force after being accused of purposely failing to shoot a puppet perp. Now working from his own practice on the edge of Chinatown with a non-puppet secretary named Bubbles (Maya Rudolph), he finds himself caught up in a case in which the stars of a children’s TV show led by a woman named Jenny (Elizabeth Banks) from decades earlier start to turn up dead, one by one, blown to fluff by a mysterious assassin. At the same time, he’s hired to solve a case of blackmail for a (puppet) femme fatale, who’s also a raging nymphomaniac.

In an unhappy fluke, Philips becomes a consultant to the LAPD on the case, and is paired with his former partner, Detective Connie Edwards (Melissa McCarthy, whose appearance in this film just makes me sad), to solve it before even more puppets are killed. It is not, shall we say, a happy time.

Actually, “not a happy time” is too gentle — this movie is a drag.

As The Happytime Murders unwinds its plot, it makes less and less sense. That’s not because, in the manner of classic sunshine noir, it turns out that things are more complicated than they seem; it’s because as Philips and Edwards solve the mystery, some glaring plot holes turn up that seem due more to shoddy writing and editing than forethought and philosophical investigation.

But look, it’s puppets. Obviously not everything needs to make sense.

The puppet and the former TV star (Elizabeth Banks) in The Happytime Murders. STX Entertainment

This is, however, supposed to be a comedy, which means it needs some kind of humor to stay afloat. Sadly, this is not the kind of comedy that seeks to deliver clever jokes or quippy one-liners; this is the sort of movie that sets a very long scene in a porn/sex shop for puppets (involving graphic depictions of several different fetishes) and leaves the “joke” at that. It’s not just annoying, it’s also interminable.

In fact, most of the scenes involving sexual humor — like one in which silly string is a stand-in for an enormous quantity of a certain ejaculatory bodily fluid — seem to have been edited with the knowledge that this situation is way less funny than it should be, and therefore the scene has to be extended as long as possible to bludgeon us into finally laughing. (We also get several pantyless crotch shots of a female puppet, lots of drug use, and … well, I guess what I am saying is please, please do not bring your children.)

Melissa McCarthy is technically a co-star in this movie, and though her steady output has been uneven at times, she’s one of the most talented and bankable performers in the business and a reliably funny comedic actor, particularly in female-driven raunchy comedies.

So why, then, does the movie treat her as second fiddle? There are occasional sparks of cleverness — one scene in which she and Maya Rudolph get to play off each other for a bit while breaking into an apartment has the feel of a buddy comedy we’d actually want to watch — but she’s a definite accessory to her not-at-all-funny puppet partner Philips, and the movie feels off-kilter as a result, like it got edited wrong.

The screenplay feels strangely distracted, too. In its early scenes, the movie seems to want — in the manner of the similarly soul-draining Bright — to use different species (elves, orcs, fairies, puppets) and their relationships with humankind to say something about race and policing. In this case, the puppets are maligned and mistreated by humans; the entire film seems set up as a comment on misconceptions about puppet-on-puppet violence.

The PI and the dame. STX Entertainment

This is already, at best, a very unsteady plot device (issues around race and policing are still about humans, for one thing). But at least Bright has the decency to keep up the theme through its entire runtime. The Happytime Murders introduces it for the first act, then more or less dumps it entirely, apparently to make room for more extended sex jokes that go nowhere.

The Happytime Murders will doubtless garner comparisons to Sausage Party, the 2016 raunchy animated hit about horny groceries. Like or hate that film, it had both an idea in its head (about religion and pluralism) and a lot of hilariously crude originality.

But The Happytime Murders seems to have recycled ideas from other raunchy puppet movies, filtered them through layers of garbage and dreck, slapped on the least imaginative noir trappings possible, and then lifelessly insisted we had better laugh, because here is another puppet making a penis joke. You know what kind of time you’ll have.

The Happytime Murders slinks into theaters on August 24.

Original Source -> The Happytime Murders turns raunchy puppet comedy into inexplicably boring dreck

via The Conservative Brief

[tsgnaplesflorida]

Tips of the Trade: Moving Day 

Life is full of learning opportunities; some lessons worth remembering, some not so much. You think, “When am I ever going to need to know that…” and every once in a while realize that hindsight is 20/20. This is one of those moments where perhaps it’s not pertinent to you this very second, but these lessons from William C. Huff Companies—these tips about packing your life’s contents into boxes for a move—are invaluable tidbits of knowledge to hold on to for when that ‘moment’ arrives.

The move is on! You’ve found your new home and your moving date is set. You’ve decided to do some (or perhaps all) of your packing yourself. Awesome! Today we’ll talk a bit about some good packing practices. The last thing you want to deal with while getting settled into your new home is to open up your boxes and find a bunch of broken items. (And let me assure you, when Aunt Janine comes by and doesn’t see that hand painted porcelain vase that she gave you for your wedding present, she is going to be UNHAPPY. So, let’s pack it up well and you won’t have to incur the wrath.)

We won’t touch on how to pack up everything in your home, we’ll touch on some of the more common items: Dishes, Electronics, Books/CDs/Media, “First-Out” Box DISHES Most good packing practices are common sense based. For instance, for your dishes to arrive intact, you’ll want some padding in the box. Not just in the box though, wrapped around every item. Here at William C. Huff Companies, we use blank newsprint for wrapping and insulation when packing. For dishware, every item gets individually wrapped before being placed in a box with a healthy layer of wadded-up paper in the bottom of the box. We recommend placing plates vertically in the box instead of stacking them one atop the next. That way, if a box does sustain an impact, perhaps only a plate or two will get chipped instead of losing a whole stack. Once you’ve packed up the first layer of dishes, place another thick layer of crushed up paper in the box and then you can place your next level of items. We treat glasses the same way we treat dishes; each one is wrapped and placed in vertically. Finish up the box with a final layer of packing paper and you should be in good shape. (If your dishes are all wrapped well enough, you shouldn’t need to layer the sides of the box with paper, but it can’t hurt.) Also be sure that your boxes are filled. Empty space leads to items jostling around, which leads to breakage. ELECTRONICS Packing electronics can be a bit trickier than other items. Not only are electronics inherently fragile, they can be a pain to reconnect if you aren’t paying attention when disconnecting everything at the old house. If you’re cable-impaired, a nice solution is to label each cable BEFORE you disconnect them. For instance, at the back of your TV, you’ll probably see at least two or three cables plugged in. With modern TVs, you’ll likely have a power cable and (at least) an HDMI cable. Before you grab hold and yank them out of the TV, label each cord with some masking tape. Use something like “TV-Power” and “TV-HDMI.” The HDMI cable will probably be plugged into a cable box, DVD/Blu Ray player or receiver. If possible, trace the cable back to the other device that it’s plugged into and label it appropriately. For instance, with your HDMI cable, one end would be tagged “TV-HDMI” and the other end would be tagged “CABLE BOX HDMI.” (Each device’s input should be marked, so you can use that indicator on your labels.) Seem a little daunting? It’s not as bad as it seems. Trust me, if you’re not the most technologically-inclined, you’ll be happy you took the time when you’re in your new house and the season premiere of VEEP is about to start! Packing up your Blu Ray player or receiver can be attacked just like packing up your dishes: place a thick layer of wadded up paper on the bottom of the box, then place in the component. Fill up the space around the sides of the item with more wadded paper and add another thick layer on top. Then you’re ready for the next component. Bear in mind that these items can get heavy. Don’t go crazy trying to get them all into one box. Your back will thank you. Modern TVs have come a long way since plasma screen flat-panel TVs were introduced. Initially, plasma TVs HAD to be kept upright at all times or the display would suffer. More modern LCD displays are much more forgiving and can spend some time laid flat, but it’s best to try and keep them upright just to be safe. Most moving companies offer specific TV boxes if you don’t have the original packaging. Some smaller TVs can fit into a dish pack box, but most screens larger than 25” will require a specific box. BOOKS/CDs/MEDIA These are some of the items that are pretty simple and straightforward to pack. As a rule, you can simply stack them up nice and neat in a box. The biggest thing to watch with these items is the weight. A few books don’t weigh too much, but cram 30 into a box and you’ll have your hands full. No doubt you’ve handled a few book boxes in your day. Notice the smaller size? The weight of CDs, DVDs and books add up fast. After every few books or discs that you put in a box, lift the box up and check the weight. Once it reaches a manageable weight, stop putting books or CDs in. Fill up the rest of the space in the box with a pillow or a throw blanket to keep everything nice and tight. FIRST-OUT BOX When you first arrive at your home you’ll definitely need some items close at hand. Personal items, toiletries and medications are some of the important items. Other items that will make your first night could be basic cleaning supplies, paper plates, cups, drinks, snacks and toilet paper. A second box with bedding, first aid kit, and clothing for a day or two. After a day (or multiple days) of moving, sometimes the only thing you want to do is flop down and crash out for a bit. With a First-Out box on hand, you can do just that and leave the big job for the next day.

As with all moving related questions, Huff is here for you! Even if you just have a question about how to pack up that sweet, sweet life-sized mannequin of your idol or would simply rather not pack anything at all, feel free to give the guys at William C. Huff a call. They’ll be there with bells on to assist!

William C. Huff Companies Progress Avenue Naples, FL 34104 // 239.263.8081