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sunlight-moonrise · 4 years

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Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much.

A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog and @clean-bands-dirty-stories for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness.

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.

“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.

My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name.

“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.

“No worries! What can I get started for you?”

As a Criminology major, I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit.

Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top.

Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.

I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.

Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.

“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.

“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.

“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag.

“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”

“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him.

“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”

“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”

●●●

After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.

Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.

I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears.

“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”

I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.

“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”

I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.

My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.

“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door.

I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.

“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed.

“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face.

He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.

“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us.

I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony.

I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead.

●●●

In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.

I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.

“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”

“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.

There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.

“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”

He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.

“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.

“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.

“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?”

This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.

“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”

“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.

“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.

“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”

“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus.

“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.

“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”

“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”

“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”

“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.

“I should get going.”

“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door.

That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?

I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work.

●●●

I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.

I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly.

I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do?

I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.

Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped.

“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”

The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.

How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D?

“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.

I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.

Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel.

“Professor, I need to speak with you.”

“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.

“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.

“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.

I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist.

●●●

I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions.

“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.

“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.

“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.

“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.

“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“

“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.

“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.

“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.

“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”

“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me.

“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.

“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.

We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.

Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man.

I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.

Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.

He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.

“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.

I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.

“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.

“Open, and do it right this time.”

I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.

“You’re using only your mouth.”

Fine, have it your way, Sir.

I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.

“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.

I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.

“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.

Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.

He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.

I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.

“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.

“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”

He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.

“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”

Gee, thanks.

“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion.

“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.

Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.

Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.

He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.

He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.

“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat.

“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point.

“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.

“Try again, who’s fucking you?”

“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.

“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”

“Professor Reid!” I cried out.

“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.

He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy.

I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner.

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added.

He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”

2K notes · View notes

yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

Text

The One The Bard Once Loved

NEW Vibe check (appropriate song to cry to while reading)

"The bard, the sprite, the archer. The trio of young dreamers that wish to witness the blue skies past the raging winds that lock their freedom. But those are more than mere dreams, for it requires the sacrifice of those you love, to grace the courage to fight a God. And Barbatos, poor Barbatos, sacrificed more than he wanted."

Pairings -> Venti x Fem!Reader x Bard (Gale)

Word Count -> 4,337

Theme -> Angst, Backstory, Long Fic

Series -> #Bonafide specials (100 followers event)

Warnings -> Spoilers to Venti's story, character death

"Oh little sprite, from whence beyond

Does thou reminiscent of a vagabond?

Curious to which it whisks upon

Trapped now in desolate, forlorn"

Venti the wind sprite had always been curious, the single whisk of air that always goes the opposite way, hanging behind from his fellow currents to be distracted by a curious thing. So it was no surprise to anyone that he had gone lost once more in their rounds swaying but when he'd not return, long ago has his current passed the nation of Mond. Yet there was no way he can fly by his family of winds, for he finds himself trapped within the walls of a grazing storm that cages the stone walls of the city, of winds that he could not control nor agitate.

No matter how hard he tries the wind does not part, and so little Venti was stuck inside brooding skies and angry blasts. No mere sprite can go against the mighty strength of an archon.

So he resigns to his fate and wanders in this new place. Of a city wide and barren, why dare the Decarabian hide such dwelling? And even with the raging howls of the walls of wind, Venti couldn't help but wonder the silence it traps within.

A tiny ball of white in an expanse of gray. The thought scares the little sprite enough to make him scurry for the smallest bit of sound he can decipher. The loneliness creeps into his core—

And his little body bumps into that of a soft material. "Oh! Goodness, one should not run off without looking like that-" the figure turns and finds itself face to face with a floating blob, deep blue eyes wide and mouth hangs with wonder. Venti recognizes this creature in one of his endeavors as the wind, a human being, the true wanderers of Teyvat. Yet what is one doing trapped? "Such a peculiar being! What could you be?"

Yet it is not frightened by Venti's rarity, well, given he is not the most frightening wonder in this continent this was no surprise.

The sprite did not mind being found out. No, no, quite the opposite honestly, as he flies closer to the young boy and hides in his upturned hood. Nuzzling against the junction in his neck as he expresses gratitude in the company and presence of another in this desolate world.

The young boy chuckles and it reminds him of a song. "Perhaps you do not understand what I spoke?" The sprite shakes its head and the ticklish spot is tickled again. "Or do you not know how to speak?" A nod. And another giggle.

Without another word, the human slips back into the alleys of winding yet thin roads before making his way inside what looks to be a cathedral of tall composition. Glass windows of the same length tinted in kaleidoscopic patterns of color. There is a light in them you would usually bask in during the 'outside world', but in here it replicates that of an oasies in the deserts of Sumeru.

Underneath the artificial haze it beams a seeming spotlight at a figure clad in a dark ebony cloak. Venti felt the vibrations of an elated gasp as the human rushed over with a smile and frantic waving.

"My fair muse, how you've brighten my day, bestowing your presence tonight!"

The cloak tenses before immediately relaxing, the 'muse' he speaks of turns with its loose hood falling as it bundled around the shoulders, and Venti the sprite couldn't help but gasp too at the sight!

Fair is lacking, no words can describe the essence of bloom and beauty at the beholder as you stood there almost sparkling, hair catching the twinkle of light. Your plum lips caught itself smiling yet your eyes twinkled double the amusement at the sight of the human before you, "Gale." You murmured with an undertone of annoyance as you trudged over, flicking the boy's forehead so suddenly he'd voiced his hurt loudly. "Where have you been?! You've never been late to our daily rendezvous, you had me worried-!"

"Oh, such a cutie when you worry!" The young boy, Gale, cupped your cheeks in the middle of your spiel as he softly pats it with his fingers. Venti had never seen such creature change colors as fast as you, not even a chameleon, or an octopus in hiding. "I've simply found a new companion while I was out and about!"

As if a spotlight was caught unto him this time, your blown eyes wandered to the sprite floating by your company's neck. And oddly he'd found the attention appreciated.

"Who is this? An elf?"

"Venti!" There was a distant jingle of imaginary bells in his squeak of a voice.

"It/You can talk?!"

(Y/N) Lawrence.

Gale the Bard.

Venti the El- Wind Sprite.

Gale was a bard that resides in the cathedral of Mondstadt, homeless and without blood and kin, the nuns had took him in and lead their choir in turn for their hospitality.

You, on the other hand, lived with a clan of hunters that once ruled the mountains and forests. But with the emergence of the inescapable walls of wind, your family had been on the forefront of the protection of the citizens.

There were a lot of struggles in communication between you two and the lil sprite. He only knows his name and how to copy words (not so fluently) so questions had to be foregone, teaching the little one took priority. And Gale being the weaver of words took it upon himself to teach him frequently as you had your duties and family to go to.

Venti would sometimes disappear for a majority of the time and you'd figured he finally found a way to pass through the winds without shredding himself among the blades of current. And then he'd pop back in to listen to the merry tunes Gale had come up with, both of them waiting for your return.

"Ah Venti, is she not a beauty? The youngest daughter of Lawrence, as divine as that of incense. Oh tell me those dotted eyes could see it too!" The little sprite eagerly nods as he follows the bard's stride across the aisles in the holy cathedral, once again barren of other souls except for them. Whenever his human friend finds time to muse, it would be most about the maiden he fancies, the muse of most of his songs. Venti had been captured by his delicate tunes and savory lines to the point that he too had been overly enticed by your grace when your presence shines.

Your strength, your smile, your laugh, your hair. Your gait, your poise, your eyes, your glare. You had caught their stares dozens of times in silence before and it was always up to you to put them back to present time.

Venti simply basked in your warming aura and indulges himself outwardly, often you'd find him dozing off on the crown of your head. And often times you'd find a little pout on Gale at such a sight that you had no choice but to tease. In those moments, the wind sprite knew he had come out triumphant.

The cathedral doors open as quickly as they had closed, your windswept and frantic form appearing from the storm outside. The two boys in your life immediately lit up on your appearance but you'd know most of it was directed at the numerous scrolls and books you currently cradle in your shivering arms.

You offered them a grin, one of victory, and you'd all cheered at your success.

Soon, your merry trio made its way to the second floor of the cathedral in front of a faraway hallway that looks over the vast floor of the first yet still had the glow from the looming illuminated glass windows. Beholden in front of you are illustrations of a world beyond, filled with colors and shine, a world you had only imagined from stories now pictured perfectly.

Venti would hover over the illustrations at random intervals and giddily point at some of those he recognized, squeaking incoherent noises yet reflecting happiness and familiarity. While you fancied with indulging the sprite in his incomprehensible stories, Gale sat beside you with adoring yet distant eyes upon the images laid before him. Looking through them, and projecting himself in such a world. The books of the outside world you'd stolen from your clan's sacred libraries will be the start of a spark of desire to be free. And with it the start of a new era.

"The true sky, and songs that cageless soar...

Were they not wishes worth fighting for?"

Long had you gone and abandoned your stolen goods for them to admire more, at least until the day your clan finally realized the missing materials in the vast expanse of the bookshelves they own. There was more to marvel at yet you feared if you linger longer, your sister would look for you and find your little crime all too soon.

Venti quietly watches the familiar illustration of a beach littered with creatures of the sea on its glittering sand before he'd lift his tiny head up, witnessing the intense stare his bard friend had on the scroll where lies an overgrown tree and a stone structure. The sprite noted he had not seen this one.

"How marvelous it would be, to celebrate the most joyous moments under this tree," Gale mumbled in a quiet lilt of longing in his voice, "Imagine (Y/N) and I, with you by my side, as I finally pluck the courage to get down on one knee." Venti bumbled in slight jealousy, buzzing in front of the bard that could only cast a laugh. "Oh hush, dear friend, is it not appropriate to take an arrow to the knee for an archer such as she?"

Yet even with his desire to be by your side, the little sprite knew that he would be there to support his friend for the happiness you two deserved. In a land where you are free. Still, Venti hopes his cuteness would be enough to prolong you just a little bit more.

Drunk in passion and dreams, the next day the bard was scheming. And when you'd come to his cathedral of a home, he finally poured out his plans to you with a Venti quipping with cheers on the side.

The Mondstadtian had predicted your hesitance, even your disapproval on the notion, and were ready to chip in to persuade you once more— yet you gave in. Immediately. The same fire burned in your eyes at the thought of being unshackled and caged from the world begging to be explored. Your sentiments together with the bard fueled the desire between you three, and through the brainpower of a trio of young minds, you had drawn your plans.

Gale aided by Venti would try and coerce with the Ragnvindr clan's leader, and you would work on convincing your eldest sister Amos for the help needed to coerce the whole Lawrence bloodline into the battle. You knew there was an undeniable hatred within her against Decarabian and you wanted her to fuel that fire once and for all, for one great cause.

And soon enough, the strings of fate had come into play, and the one who shall record this momentous history has taken its seat by the balcony of war. Only the last piece of the puzzle is left in this grandoise play—

"Gale, Venti, are you sure this is the right direction to the hideout? We're taking a route longer than usual, surely you're not making last minute pranks..."

Your bow smacks at your back as you made your way inside the dark closet. It was two cycles before the fated ambush would come and in your nerves you had not realized how amiss things had been for the others. You were more than ready even if your fingers were to tremble everytime it holds your bow and arrow, predictions of the war that shall come floats within the expanse of your mind.

In your limited vision, your bard friend and sprite shared a look that did not pass by you. The tension had only caused you to gulp in your nervousness, were you found out? Did the participants of the revolt suddenly back down? "There has been a change of plans, but worry not for history still pans. My Muse, it is best you stay to assure you will not be caught in the storm's disarray-"

A hand flew across the bard's pristine white skin and his dark ocean hues could not help but widen. Is he... telling you to not participate in the war?! What kind of— a sob left through your gritted teeth despite your best efforts, and you're not sure who was more broken between your friends upon the sight. "How could you, even think- Gale, you carry no arms but a lyre! And Venti still has no means to go against the Archon that controls the winds! What kind of absurd idea is this?!" In the middle of your rage, your friends had already wrapped you in their sentimental hug, expressing their own misery with free-flowing tears." I'm supposed to protect you... t-the three of us were supposed to lead the path of freedom..."

"You've always protected us, (Y/N). Now would be the best time... to return the favor," and as your friend stepped back to give a parting smile, your whole world suddenly engulfed in black as the door shut with a slam and a final lock.

"Gale! Venti! No, please no! Let me out! Don't do this, PLEASE!"

"Please hear us out, our dear (Y/N)," Gale leaned his forehead against the thick door that separates you two, shedding the last bit of tears he could muster before the end of an era. The desperation in your every bang against it, breaks apart a hole in his own heart, "For your own good, and your own future."

When Gale described love to the little Venti, the latter was certain that he felt the same way for you. Yet the human ever so jokingly laughed at how he was still too young to fully understand the implications of such words. But he desired just as much to protect you, to be by your side, and to see your smile. But the human was right for he did not truly understand the reasons WHY he felt like so...

So he asked instead, dear friend Gale of Tales, why have you come to cherish this human in devotion? And quite so the other was happy to indulge!

"It starts with young Mondstadt when the walls were young and the people still knew the tales and what they sang. I was a poor little bard with a broken lyre, when living alone was nothing but dire.

Without a home, without a bed, I was ready to starve to death. But an angel clad in white suddenly lead me to bright light. My muse had brought to me a cathedral, yes the one we are in now! And since then I've lived a proper choir life, always wondering how...

just how things would be without (Y/N), my angel? Continuing to live in the dark alleys, would I have been able? Even now I have yet to repay her act of kindness. But one day, for sure... " Perhaps, this act the young boy now follows, was the payment he had been waiting for.

How long you had stayed there, you had no clue but by the sounds of war cries and clashing steel had told you enough. You'd been there for too long.

Blessed with some luck that a crowbar had found its way in this janitor closet in a cathedral no less, you had immediately set out to join the battle: beyond the holy doors flames had lit up from the torches the revolt has carried, many bodies lay by the stone grounds of the city, some moving and struggling while some... you spare them not a second thought as you rushed past the stone pillars to where the heat of the war should be. If the battle plan had gone as it should then—

A hand gripped your arm with such force it had you cry out before you even registered you were being slammed to the floor. A shadow of a knight that serves the God of Storm looms over you with a glare blazing past his helmet. "You're one of them, I recognize that face! You're not winning today-" yet another blade suddenly pierced through his chest, and your shirt had been splattered when it was pulled. The now lifeless body falls past you and another replaces him.

"Sir Ragnvindr!" The knight shared the same shock and relief you wore before it steeled, immediately pulling you up and away from the on-going exchanges of blows. "Everyone- how's the war looking?"

"Men had fallen from the green-tipped arrows, but we are making progress," the redhead gestured to the tower where the greatest enemy lies, taking note of the cracks and crumbling structure, a sign of his coming doom. A very good sign. "Amos took it upon herself to climb the tower-"

"What?! That's beyond the plan, she- she could get herself killed!" You brought your own bow from your back at the mention of your sister archer, bringing the strings back with an arrow at the ready, your intention clear. The redhead had shown a glint of worry but his gaze had been resolved once again at the hope of freedom, and he leaves you to your chase as he fends off the guards that dare go after you.

You expertly evaded blows and parried kicks with your bow and arrow, yet no sign of the heads of the resistance had caught your sight. The longer you climbed, the more you feared for the worst. By 2/3 of the tower you had scaled you managed to poke your head out to see the scale of war. Of red and orange floated below as the razor winds felt more violent than it had been ever since you had been born within its impenetrable walls, even from this distance high up you could still hear the clash, the warmongers held up in the central square where all battles now takes place.

And within that chaos you managed to single out a lump of black and a dot of floating white. Miraculously, your scream had reached their faraway ears and looked up, just in time to see your aerial shots of support.

"(Y/N)?! What is she-!" His words had been cut with an arrow wheezed past his head to bring down a foe that had sneaked behind him. Right, battle. Many of the immediate threats had been neutralized and the resistance had found the upper ground thanks to the archer's barrage. "How-how is she up there!"

Another body had fallen next to him with a cut on its back, a certain knight rushing past him to hit another. "Watch your back, bard! Now's not the time to monologue, she's going to backup Amos."

You were too far to hear the horrified gasp and the fearful expression your two faithful friends adorned. But the ground you were on began to shake, and you know you had to go on. "Venti! Gale! Focus, I'll be there with you two soon!" You screamed at the top of your lungs in hopes that it will reach them before continuing your ascent to the most treacherous area you had to be in—

You barelled towards the woman with silver hair with a pace you've never seen and a strength you'd never thought you carried, exchanging the shot you felt lodge into your left side as you sent one right through the guard's neck. You fell on your bottom and clutched the wounded area, but kept it there, if not to make sure the blood does not pour if you were to take it out.

"Sister!" The familiar voice cradled you as gently as she could with a fear-stricken face. But you assured her that it had not hit anything major, the way her worry didn't dissipate seem to hide a kind of anguish she couldn't name. "We must get you to safety, the clerics- the clerics could-"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," you grunted as you pried yourself out of her grasp to prove your point, still able to keep your stance. You see Amos struggle from fatigue yet about to bite back, "We're so close, sister, any moment we linger is another body on the list of deaths." Painfully she'd bitten on her own tongue, finally relenting as you ascended the last few steps.

Normal arrows are nothing but toothpicks against the mighty God of Storms, the Anemo Archon, who easily flicked your futile attempts to graze him. And yet Decarabian was losing power just from fighting off not only your barrages but those even from below. His walls were thinning and his heart crumbles, from the thought of his once devoted followers turning back on him.

With one last strength the Lawrences gathered every piece of energy and power they could into their shot, and Decarabian looked at them with tired eyes and a raised hand. "Finally, I shall hold his gaze." The voice next to you spoke before your charged shot, swirling with beaming light flew past the sharp gale of wind and pierced through the God's core. Your ears had picked up on a violent crack before you were hit by the razor breeze upon the dying breath of the archon, sending you and Amos off the crumbling tower to free fall to your deaths.

In the edge of your peripherals the bleak gray walls of storms dissolved into rays of natural light, giving way to a hue of blue you had never seen before. As the wind wheezed past your ears, you smiled at the face of death—

When a jingle of little bells suddenly slowed your descension, and you were softly met with the hard floor on your back. With tired eyes you'd found yourself next to the pioneers of freedom, conscious and unconscious. You had felt Venti nudge your hand to those of another's limp ones, soft palms yet calloused fingers, you intertwined your hands with that of the bard's.

"We did it, we finally... did it..." A pulling force drains the consciousness from your mind and body in laboured breaths, and despite your protests to keep staring at the beautiful sight of the true sky, your eyelids were pulled shut by an unknown exhaustion.

Past their closed state, a flash of light was the last thing you had thought. Bruised and beaten, your warm hand did not register how the ones you clung to... did not squeeze back.

...

The next time (e/c) orbs flew open their eyes the world felt that of a lucid dream, with silk of the cleanest white donned their body, and the softest breeze of a sweet flower you had not smelt passes by you. Teal orbs looked down at you with a gentleness you've felt from the artificial light from the cathedral. Speaking of- your eyes unfocused shifted its gaze to the light blue skies.

"You're... awake." Your bard friend breathed out in disbelief and another emotion your brain can't quite place. The cotton of clouds float above in painted beauty, and you had pried your sight away from it almost painfully just to spare your companion a look.

"It's..." your throat grated and ached at the attempt, coming out so weak and breathless, "It's very beautiful... out here, free... Have- have you gone to explore?" Your face twisted in numbing pain from talking, and the bard started to quiver yet stood strong with a smile.

"I had, it's - it's just like how we imagined, even better than we've taken for granted," wet spots adorned your cheeks in short successions, you couldn't help but smile. "I only wish you were there to see it first hand, the flowers, the sunsets, the land-"

"Yet I fell asleep," you laughed in mirth yet there was no sound that escaped. The grip around you tightens as you loll your head to the side; there lays a new city kissed by the huge orb of light in the blue veil of a sky, lush green grass of health you've never seen before shone with a moistness on it, and around its glory lays a beauty of a moat that mirrors the one above. Beautiful, you whispered under your long-awaited breathe.

"The people of Mond had done their best to rebuild, for the promise of freedom they had not wilt," a hand on your cheek, flawless, urged your gaze once more to lay upon the bard. "We've devised a festival to celebrate named Ludi Harpastum. Tell me... my muse, will you accompany me in this new custom?"

A new breeze had lulled you in your ears once again to sleep, and a flash of fear had passed over your companion's features before it dissipated when you opened your eyes once more. A festival, you haven't heard that in years, "I would love to. But maybe... tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow."

"Mhm, I feel tired... the sun invites me to sleep, will you wait for me tomorrow?"

"T-Tomorrow."

"Good." Your eyes were covered by darkness again as you felt a pressure against your forehead. "It's... a date..." And your tired heart finally found peace, after battling for 15 days restlessly, desperately.

Venti picked you up from where you laid on his lap, setting you down on the grass bed besides the giant roots of the Windrise tree. Nearest your left, a stone plate carved with words you never dare see lies next to you. And for the first time in fifteen days, a God cries again.

¹The green-tipped arrows were coated with poison.

²Reader's bow is designed after the Raven's Bow.

³Gale is not the bard's official name but was used to avoid too many confusion.

⁴This had a different, more painful and hatred alternate ending where you hated Venti for taking Gale's form, but I changed it so I could rest my own heart.

*in honor of your contribution to Mondstadt's freedom, the maiden who throws the Harpastum is made for your grace.

@boxofteenageideas @creation-magician @your-local-venti-simp @indigodreamtime47

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshots #exile.flower #genshin impact Venti #venti #venti x reader #Bonafide specials #publish at midnight #genshin impact x reader #angst #female reader

351 notes · View notes

mondstadtbreeze · 3 years

Text

Under the Windtree

Word count: 2.5k

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Aether returns to Mondstadt only to find that Venti hasn't been seen in a few days. He can't shake the feeling that something isn't right.

Aether and Paimon come back to Mondstadt after a long time of traveling the country between Mond and Liyue to collect ingredients, artifacts and looking for more clues of the whereabouts of Lumine.

Everyone is happy to see them and he's immediately roped into helping out here and there, despite being tired.

Paimon eventually tells him to stop because she knows he's exhausted and he goes to stay at the Angel's Share.

He was really hoping to see Venti before retiring for the night, but the bard is difficult to get a hold of on the best days, since he doesn't have actual residence in Mondstadt.

He wishes Charles a good night and goes to end the day after a good meal.

Aether wakes up the next morning with Paimon gone, probably to get breakfast somewhere and gets ready for the day, happy for the access to a good bath with warm water after weeks.

He finds Paimon at the counter talking Charles' ear off who seems happy to entertain her and Aether sits down with them.

They talk and Aether finds out after asking (he tries to sound casual when he asks, but Charles looks at him a bit too knowing) that Venti hasn't really been seen by anyone around for about 3 days now, which is somewhat rare, but it happens.

Aether cant help but feel worried despite Charles being calm about it but he, better than anyone, knows Venti can take care of himself.

He doesnt look for him.

He goes talk to jean to see if she needs help and to lighten the load he knows she has on her shoulders and then sneaks off with Kaeya to take a break in which they see who can catch a slime faster.

Aether wins and Kaeya promises to smuggle him a drink later.

Kaeya pulls him into a half hug-half headlock and ruffles his hair, dodging Paimon who playfully swats at his head to 'defend' Aether, before they go off to continue their jobs.

Aether finishes some commissions and sinple tasks asked by the citizens until Paimon tells him to go sit for a while.

Venti still hasn't shown his face and Aether is getting anxious now.

He knows the bard is often busy with his own mischief and isn't always around but whenever Aether goes back to Mondstadt he's been there at least a day and most of the time immediately sought him out, as if he knew he was in town.

Which, as the archon of wind, is very likely.

So why hasn't he visited yet?

Was he on a trip?

Did Aether do something wrong the last time he was here?

The thought of that sits like a stone in Aether's stomach, adding to the heavy weight of his anxiety.

He can't sit around and wait.

Something tells him to go look for Venti instead of waiting.

"You really are like a mother hen sometimes, you know?", Paimon says when he asks her to come along.

"Paimon would love to come but...."

They look at the food that's still on the plate.

"Paimon is tired from getting up early and being busy all day."

"I can carry you."

Paimon puffs her cheeks and huffs.

"No way! Paimon isn't a little kid OR a pet! Noone carries Paimon around! Why don't we go look for him tomorrow? He's probably with that dragon anyways. Paimon will come if we wait until tomorrow."

She looks at him a little pleading and Aether can see a hint of concern bleed through.

"You should sleep, too, Aether."

He knows he should.

Aether sighs.

"I'm sorry Paimon, I need to check on him. Something feels... off."

Paimon pouts but nods.

"Paimon will save you a snack for when you come back."

Aether is out of the city faster than he planned to, worry and the growing knot in his stomach bite at his heels and drive him forward.

He decides to go to Starsnatch Cliff first to see if his friend is there but realizes quickly that it was pointless.

He does his best to avoid fights and obstacles on his way back to Windrise.

If Venti isn't there he'll look at Dvalin's Lair and then return to Mond.

He is already making a plan on how to get to Dvalin the fastest when he reaches the statue at Windrise.

He immediately knows that something is wrong.

Looking over the area it seems the same, nothing unusual, not even slimes or hilichurls.

But as soon as Aether steps up to the roots, his foot touching it's tip, the anxiety he'd had the entire time turns into cold, clawing fear.

His throat closes up and he gasps in shock of the sensation as it washes over him.

Aether stumbles back and has to lean against the statue, hold on to it, to keep himself upright.

He knows they aren't his own emotions, has experienced this once or twice before when connecting to statues of the Seven and somehow that knowledge makes it worse, because it means Venti is terrified.

He has to find him, quickly.

Aether fights to push the feelings into the back of his mind and concentrates on the foreign feeling of wind rushing through his body as he leans closer to the statue, closing his eyes.

He can feel it flowing through him, around him, into the statue and back out and-

An image flashes up in his mind, blurry.

He sees the blue sky vaguely and a lot of strings and roots that obscure it. He can also see the river.

Aether let's go immediately and rushes around the tree to where the water would be visible, heart pounding.

He doesn't find Venti right away, mostly because the fear doesn't ebb off but becomes stronger the more he searches.

When he realizes why, he stops moving.

"Venti!", he calls.

No answer, but the fear spikes.

Aether has to blink, to get the tears out of his eyes from the intense feeling.

"Venti, it's Aether!"

He keeps searching and shortly after this he feels the fear lift a little and can think more clearly again.

"...ther.."

Aether freezes and turns to where the voice came from.

Carefully he approaches a spot overgrown with roots and bushes.

Venti is practically invisible behind it, with his green clothing.

He's pushed himself into a hollow at the tree's trunk behind them, like a miniature cavern. Aether can't see a lot with the gloomy lighting but Venti looks like he's slumped against the bark.

"Hey... Traveler", he greets and the faint glow of his braids and half lidded eyes shows just enough for Aether to realize there is blood on his face.

His heart almost stops.

He tries to get closer, but the roots make it impossible for him to reach, almost as if they'd grown there just to protect anyone from getting to Venti.

How did he even climb in there?

"Venti, what happened?", he asks softly, copying the soft tone the bard had used before. Venti looks at him as if he only heard half of it.

"Wait no, don't answer that. I'm here to help, can you move?"

Aether doesn't wait for an answer and instead starts pushing roots aside with more force.

Venti watches him the entire time, sometimes blinking rapidly as if to stay awake, so Aether continues to mumble what he's doing for Venti to concentrate on.

Finally, he reaches out but Venti shakes his head.

"Don't think I should move... right now."

"I can't get a look at you or help you in here", Aether explains and grabs for him anyways.

Before the bard can do anything against it, Aether has shoved his arms under his legs and behind his back and lifts him out of the hole.

He almost drops him when Venti screams in pain.

"Down! Aether!", he yelps right after, but Aether carries him further.

When he puts him down, it's in a spot he can prop Venti's back up against a large rock.

The bard is still holding onto him, fingers clawed into Aether's shirt, but let's go tohold his sode when he moves too sudden.

And then Aether finally catches sight of what happened.

He gasps in horror when his hands come away from Venti's stomach stained in red.

There is old blood plastering his shirt to his body and new that now seeps further into spots that used to be white.

Aether realizes that, whatever this wound came from, he just opened it up again.

But there is no time for blaming himself now.

"Venti. Venti look at me."

The bard is staring at his stomach, breathing heavily, and Aether has to practically force his head up to get his attention.

"Can you understand what I'm saying?"

Venti blinks. He looks tired.

He nods.

"Good. How long have you been here?"

"A day... maybe", is the quiet answer and Venti seems to struggle with even just that.

Aether's mind is racing.

A day with a wound like this would've killed any normal human.

Which Venti is not.

Should he leave him here? For the tree to heal him?

Venti answers the question before he can ask it.

"Isn't working. Not... healing."

He moans in pain when he tries breathing in deeply and then... doubles over, coughing and gasping for air.

Aether yells his name, doing his best to hold him upright, so he doesn't hit his head.

Venti coughs one more time, wheezing painfully, before he slumps against Aether.

He stops moving.

The blood in Aether's veins freezes.

"Venti! Venti, wake up!"

He doesn't think he's ever felt this cold.

Venti isn't responding and his breathing is too shallow.

The fear Aether feels is his very own this time.

He does his best to swallow around the panic, checking Venti's pulse and, upon finding it, lifts him up again.

Venti is so much lighter than he looks and Aether has to hold back a sob, when he feels the blood run down his hand.

Before he knows it, he's running.

He knows he shouldn't move someone with a wound like this, but he doesn't have any other choice to help him.

This way there is at least a chance of reaching Barbara before... before...

Aether concentrates on the wind around him and sprints.

Barbara is just about to leave the church when there is a ruckus from outside and the doors burst open, splintering in their hinges at the same time as Aether yells "HELP! I NEED HELP!"

She's at his side within a second and flinches in shock when she recognizes who Aether is carrying and what state the bard is in.

There is blood all over both of them and the look Aether throws her is one of feral desperation.

Barbara gets to work.

Venti had stopped breathing right when Aether had reached the steps of the Church of Favonius.

Aether still feels the dread and panic sit in his throat, which is why he hasn't taken his eyes off of the bard since Barbara told him to lay him down in the churches backroom.

A few hours ago, Venti had woken up, feverish and in pain, repeatedly mumbling what Aether believed to be the word "Himmel", before slipping back into a fitful sleep, brows furrowed and face screwed up in pain.

Eventually Aether starts switching between carding a hand through Venti's dark hair and running a finger along his brows and forehead as if to ease the creases out of it.

It works for a while.

Venti wakes up feeling like he got stomped on by a geo vishap.

His vision is blurry, everything hurts and he's still tired.

What keeps him from going back to sleep, however, is the body next to him.

When Venti looks down, he finds himself face to face with Aether.

He's snoring lightly, eyes moving behind closed lids.

A few lose hair strands hang into his face.

When Venti moves a little, Aether hums and then buries his face in the crook of Venti's neck.

He holds his breath and when he moves again, he realizes that Aether's hand is on his hip, holding him losely to his body.

Venti lets out the air he's holding in a stutter, doing his best not to disturb the other.

His heart is thumping loudly against his ribcage, fluttering every time Aether's breath hits his skin.

He almost forgets his own pain.

Almost.

He groans loudly when he tries to turn and suddenly Barbara is right next to him.

"You should move him if it hurts you", she says quietly without greeting but Venti shakes his head softly.

"I'm fine. Promise!"

Barbara smiles gently as she puts her hand on his forehead, nods a little and holds a straw towards him.

He drinks and makes a face at whatever medicine she's just given him.

She gives him another glass with straw and only water and he drinks it greedily.

"You were hurt pretty badly. Who attacked you?"

"Noone who will ever hurt anyone again", Venti replies cryptically and Barbara nods, although a little disapproving.

Then she nods to Aether.

"You were lucky he found you on time. You weren't breathing when he got here."

Venti swallows.

Not breathing? That was close.

"O...oh. Guess I'll have to thank him for that."

"You better. A lot of us would be in trouble without him. It's no surprise that he'd end up helping you out eventually as well."

Venti giggles softly.

If she only knew just how MUCH he owed Aether for.

Speaking of...

"What is he doing here still?"

"He insisted on staying. He was very distraught when he arrived and only calmed down when he was able to see you were breathing again."

She clicks her tongue disapprovingly when she add: "Ripped the church doors out of their hinges when he arrived."

Venti gapes at her.

"That's... kind of h-"

Barbara puts her hand over his mouth faster than he can finish and tries to look upset.

"I will not have this kind of conversation in our Lord Barbatos' church. What if he hears! Such frivolous words, bard."

Venti chuckles.

"Oh, I'm sure he'd agree with me."

"Blasphemy!", she hisses playfully and he laughs lightly and sticks his tongue out.

"You seem to be recovering well. I'll leave you to sleep some more. Kick the honorary knight out of bed if he hurts you."

She pauses shortly.

"I'm glad you're better, Venti. Don't go off alone next time."

With that she leaves.

Venti lets out a shuddering breath as he relaxes.

Aether mumbles something against his neck and Venti shudders under the sensation.

He experimentally runs his fingers over Aether's spine.

The other hums in his sleep.

Venti swallows his nerves.

He could let himself indulge in this.

This one time.

He closes his eyes and, as far as he can, curls closer into Aether, who's quiet snoring and slow breathing lulls him into a soft daze.

He turns his head to bury his nose in Aether's hair, feeling nothing but comfort and safety, before he fell back asleep.

#aeventi #genshin impact #aether genshin impact #venti genshin impact #hurt/comfort #nina writes

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astro-pioneer · 3 years

Text

Anyway thoughts about Dain and others. I'm gonna separate this into different parts since it's probably gonna get confusing. Might do a second part for certain parts of this.

So to get as accurate as possible I did search for more information about The Abyss and Khaenri'ah

OK so I'll give a little back story before diving into my thoughts: Khaenri'ah is an underground unreleased section where, in Dain's words, "the gods' gaze does not fall". It is the origin of Khemia, a type of alchemy heavily focused on the creation of life that ultimately destroyed it. Also, for the Sword Cemetery, that is a result of a war between Mondstadt and Khaenri'ah.

Khemia

Anyway thought time - so since Knaenri'ah has very little fauna and plants they have to find a way to survive and get food and whatnot - hence the creation of Khemia. Now, since there's no information on the aftermath of using Khemia on let's say a human, we're going to make assumptions.

So obviously altering with human life is bound to have it's backlashes, right? My three main bully victims are going to be Kaeya, Albedo, and Dain. Kaeya first: he was sent to Mondstadt as a last hope for his original homeland (I got too lazy to type it continuously) so I'm gonna assume that, before he was dropped off at Dawn Winery, he went through some alterations.

Kaeya

And you guys are gonna get mad but I'm gonna talk about his eye patch. Now, my assumption with the backlash is that it does something physical to the person undergoing Khemia. And yes, while Noelle does say she prepares Kaeya's eye patch, that doesn't necessarily mean that she puts it on him and has seen him without it.

Seeing as though Khemia isn't well-known by the common folk and is concerning to the gods (at least to Venti - thoughts on this later) it's best to hide any evidence of it when around people. That might be Kaeya's case with his eye patch, especially with the issue with Diluc and his father.

Albedo

Listen I hate myself for even starting this but I'm too far deep to give up so we gotta talk about his sexy ass. Now, his diamond. If that's a birthmark then holy hell that's one gorgeous mark. BUT I don't think it is. Since he's the one who practices Khemia, he probably knows how to manipulate the placement to be somewhere hidden or so small you can't see it.

Lmao that kinda contradicted my diamond topic but my thought behind that is that he got that from his teacher (I REFUSE to type that long ass name ok) before he knew the art himself. Him knowing the practice and Venti's wariness of it makes more sense now - will be explained soon.

Dain

THIS BITCH- Ok I need more content of him so I can understand him more but I hate him so muuuuuch. So since he admits that he saw Old Mondstadt before Dvalin resided in it, I immediately thought to the battle at Sword Cemetery even though it doesn't fit with the geography (be honest though nothing matches the geography since the "Wolf of the North" is in the wEST) and you can't see it even from atop the logs (before anyone says anything, yes, I did check with the tallest character I have and yes, I did blind myself at one in the morning just for that.)

Anyway we're getting off topic what I wanted to talk about is the galaxy thing right over his heart. This is going to be short since there's not a lot about him but it's very obvious that it's not natural (well duh) and it reminds me of the particles that erupt from Paimon and that appears out of Aether's hand for an idle animation (I, personally, chose Aether for the MC so I will be using him most of the the time). However, there's noy a lot on him and his attire so this is all I really have.

Venti and Khemia

So a little while ago someone found out that in front of Venti's statue in front of the cathedral it says "Gate to Celestia" backwards. And I do love the theories from many others about how the game might end right where it started, aka Mondstadt. Khaenri'ah dislikes the gods and is not under rule of the Seven and, with Kaeya as a "last hope" so to speak, I feel like (if he doesn't get too attached to everyone) Kaeya and possibly Albedo as well, is going to lead the hilichurls and possibly the Abyss to Mondstadt to open the gate to destroy Celestia.

This is probably why Venti is wary of anyone who knows Khemia or is a known member of Khaenri'ah. This is far fetched but what if he knows of a possible ending without the traveller that is Mondstadt and possibly Teyvat as a whole being destroyed? It's obvious that history and stories are told through songs and, as Venti said in the archon quest, he knows songs "from the past, present, and future."

The Abyss ft. Khaenri'ah & Dain (again)

This is probably going to be the biggest since there's a lot of parts to it. So it's been confirmed that the hilichurls, the people of Khaenri'ah, are being controlled by the Abyss. My thought process was that the Abyss was once a part of Khaenri'ah but there was so much Khemia practice on them that they became less and less human. On a similar note, Instagram user natrya_art made her own theory based off of the Abyss and the chambers just off of the opening screen itself (also one about Dain, Durin, and Alberich (Kaeya's last name) that's still on her story :D).

You guys are probably like "Astro where are you going with this" so I'll stop adding random information and get on with it. Dain specifically only mentions Lumine with "her" and "she" along with "is" and similar present tenses, meaning that she is still alive during whatever time he comes from (as he will decide fate himself if "Albedo were to make a single wrong move using Khemia" (possibly opening the gate) and that's the only time he'll interfere). It's obvious he knows Aether, as he's very easy to talk once he mentions being a traveller. Now, when have you ever heard anyone in genshin mention traveller that is not about Aether/Lumine? Exactly, barely ever if at all.

I mention this since Dain's interest isn't peaked when Aether introduces himself as an adventurer but only after he says he's a traveller looking for his sibling. I, personally, think that Dain was a travel buddy for Lumine since, branching off of Natrya's theory about the Abyss, she was probably brought to the Abyss when they were fighting on one of the paths in Celestia in the beginning.

Since Lumine is trying to redirect Aether from finding out anything about her plans, it shows that she does not want him to either catch her trying to destroy the world or get caught in the crossfire and die. In the time where Dain comes from, though, that's probably what happened and the Abyss wins in the end. So Dain, already knowing where Lumine and the Abyss went, brings Aether to every location that he can remember.

During the old timeline, let's call it that since it's obviously going to change with Aether having help from Dain and Friends™, Lumine most likely talked about Aether and what happened to them. Maybe Dain was just trying to see if he was the real Aether during the tavern scene? No one knows right now honestly (other than the voice actors and creators honestly but they can't say anything.)

It's also obvious that he knows how far Aether is on his journey, as he mentions the Contract to End All Contracts but not why it was made or what the Tsaritsa did with them all while knowing about Venti being Barbatos and the Stormterror battle. This could just be blamed on his failing memory but that's not the case, as he says that he doesn't lack time and will wait to talk about Rex Lapis. However, it's obvious he only knows one side of it, as Aether and the player know of Zhongli being a player in the Rite of Descension but Dain doesn't, as he questions his attitude towards it.

Prophecy

This is copied from Dain's profile on the genshin wiki: The confluence between the past and future. The original calamity had been overturned, yet the island in the sky set the earth to burn. Chalk pursues gold, in this time inopportune, the eclipse is swallowed by the crimson moon. The future must atone for bygone mistakes, as the bond familiar falters and breaks— of the same blood, elders and the youth... Such is the cycle of the world, in truth. Dain, what is that strand of blonde hair to you? Someone you must kill? Or the object of your penitence? - Self-proclaimed prophet

I changed the colour of the parts I want to talk about. The first line is obviously referring to Dain and his connection with going back in time to change the future he came from. "The island in the sky" is Celestia, and the line about setting earth alit could be talking about the gate opening or the gods thinking it'll be best to destroy earth to save themselves.

"Chalk pursues gold." THIS LINE. This one line is what I want to talk about a lot. Gold is not referring to the alchemist who destroyed Khaenri'ah, as it's not uppercased as all names should be. Instead, it's referring to Aether. (Note: the game is actually supposed to take place as you playing as Aether, which is why he's always in the trailers as the protagonist and is more expressive). Aether has multiple gold or gold coloured parts to him, including his hair, parts of his outfit, and it can even be argued that his eyes can be included too. Chalk is, obviously, Albedo, which connects to the quest about him where he's called the Chalk Prince when Dragonspine was introduced. Speaking of Dragonspine, Durin (the dragon that died there) actually came out of Khaenri'ah. Weird how Albedo is almost always in Dragonspine right? The pursuing part can go two ways: his ending line about how if he [Albedo] destroys Mondstadt, will Aether be there to stop him OR to make sure Aether is there to watch him destroy it. A third side is that Albedo pursues Lumine to help with her plan of Destroying Mindstadt/Teyvat.

Crimson moon is obviously about one of the trailers, where I think Lumine is seen walking on the path where her and Aether fought the god in Celestia with a red moon and sky in the background.

"Bond familiar falters and breaks - of the same blood, elders and youth" Aether and Lumine. I feel as though one of them (Aether most likely) will feel the most betrayed and he will lose all trust and love in Lumine and what's she's doing/done. Elders and youth is interesting. It can be nodding at the gods and the people of Teyvat or the gap between Lumine and how she's grown old while Aether died when he was young.

"That strand of blolde hair." English classes and teachers do not teach this enough!!! So I'll say it: blond, with no 'e' is masculine and is used to describe males. Blonde WITH an 'e' is feminine and for females. The use of blonde instead of blond eliminates Aether, Albedo, and Dain. The only blond we really encountered? Lumine. And I can already see the "well what if they didn't know the difference between e and no e" but we're talking about a game where a god dressed as a bard speaks in rhymes and riddles while Dain speaks like hes a poet. They know what they did. This might hint to him being the former travel companion of Lumine and any possible feelings he had that might get in the way of stopping him from helping everyone to stop her.

The Three Questions

When talking to Dain he asks three questions in order to see how similar your thought process is to Lumine. "Who do you think was the key to stopping the Stormterror incident" or something along the lines is the first question. Your answers are Barbatos, yourself, or the people. I will try to go off of memory with my answers, as his quest has yet to be added to the completed quests, as it's in chapter four which hasn't been released yet. I answered Barbatos for this question.

The next one is about Liyue and who will take care of it since Rex Lapis is no longer there to protect it. I said the people of the harbour, which was the third question. The last one is about Visions and who are more important in the eyes of the gods. The three answers are people with visions, without visions, or neither. I answered neither, giving me the dialogue of Aether's answers being similar to Lumine's.

Vision Question

The one about Visions struck me as odd. Visions are given by gods to people that they have acknowledged, yeah? Khaenri'ah isn't acknowledged by the gods and isn't run by any of the Seven. So that means that no one who resided in Khaenri'ah were never helped or were given visions. So why would Dain ask about them? I think it's due to Aether and most likely Lumine being able to weild the elements without a vision. There's also two certain dialogue options that are in the form of thoughts (I do not remember what quests they're from however) and the first one is like "(I'm getting back to my original strength)" I think it was in regards to getting geo too or something while the other one is "(I wish to get the powers of the gods)" or something.

When I first got them I paused for a second. Original strength and the powers of the gods... This obviously means the fact that with one touch of a statue we can switch to that element and can be "blessed" so to speak without actually being blessed. Also I've been meaning to talk about this ever since I leveled up Venti's statue but so far both Mondstadt and Liyue have an extra oculus. This is probably going to be for every region. I found that interesting, since you usually almost always interact with the statues with specific oculi, making it more powerful and giving you more stamina in the process. I think we have to use the extra one to fully harness the powers of that god in order to beat the final boss (probably Lumine.) They are also under the "Precious Items" tab in your inventory which is somewhat significant as well.

I'm gonna end this theory here for now since it got extremely long lmao. A part two might be coming though!

#ೄ sage #genshin thoughts #genshin theory #genshin impact theory #genshin impact thoughts #genshin #genshin impact

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spine-buster · 4 years

Text

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 1

A/N: To celebrate William “Thirst Trap” Nylander’s birthday last Friday, I’m going to do a double post this week! (Also maybe because he’s technically not in this chapter). Make sure you set your clocks for Thursday at 7:30pm cause that’s when I’ll post Chapter 2. Chapter 3 will then proceed next Monday on our regular once-a-week schedule.

September 3rd, 2019

Aberdeen Bloom was still looking for a job.

She was still sending out her resume to companies. She was still making follow-up phone calls. She was still creating alert notifications for jobs she’d be interested in. She was still going for interviews. She was still shaking hands and thanking people for their time. She was still writing follow-up thank you emails. She was still getting rejection calls. She was still submitting work to writing contests and magazines. She was still getting “It’s not what we’re looking for right now” emails.

She sighed.

So maybe getting the dream gig was harder than she thought.

It wasn’t like the bank had let her go. She was still earning something to keep her afloat, but it was the bank. It wasn’t writing, it wasn’t anything else. It was the same stuff every single day and Aberdeen was starting to resent it. She didn’t move downtown to stay a bank teller. She moved downtown to start her career, and this was not starting her career.

But then a phone call came on Sunday – peculiar, she thought, since it was a long weekend and had expected everybody and their mothers to be at a cottage – asking if she wanted to come in for an interview. To MLSE. For the personal assistant job. Aberdeen didn’t even remember applying to MLSE. But she was desperate, so she said yes, and now she found herself looking in the mirror with her best “interview outfit” on ready to ace it.

She took a deep breath. She could do this. She packed her bag, made sure she had her wallet at keys, and left the condo, deciding to walk the short way to 50 Bay Street so she could pick up breakfast on the way. Even while eating the ham and swiss sandwich, she could feel the butterflies in her stomach – it didn’t calm her nerves at all. For some reason, she felt like this was her last chance to build something towards her career. If she didn’t, she’d be stuck bank-telling forever. When she stood outside the doors of 50 Bay Street, she took a deep breath before walking in.

“When you arrive, tell the receptionist you are looking for Frances Munro” the woman on the other line had told her when she called for the interview. As she approached the receptionist, she tried to look as confident as possible. “Hi, my name is Aberdeen Bloom. I’m here for an interview with, um, Frances Munro?”

“Aberdeen Bloom?” another voice called out.

Aberdeen looked up to see another woman lurking in the back, a clipboard in hand, dressed impeccably well. “Yes. Hi.”

The woman looked at her. Aberdeen could see her give a quick up-down. “Great. Human resources certainly has an odd sense of humour,” she quipped, chuckling for nobody but herself. “Follow me.”

Aberdeen did as she was told, giving a polite nod to the receptionist who was already ignoring her. She circled around the desk and followed Frances, who walked through the door but didn’t hold it open. “Okay, so I was Brendan’s personal assistant but I recently got promoted so now I’m looking for someone else,” Frances explained.

“Oh, so you’re replacing yourself.”

“Well, I’m trying to. We tried to be proactive and hire early but the last two Brendan sacked after only a few weeks. We need to find someone who can survive here – who can survive Brendan’s schedule and survive the pressure of the Leafs. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” Aberdeen looked around awkwardly. “Who is Brendan?”

“What?” Frances stopped dead in her tracks to look back at Aberdeen. “Oh my God, I will pretend did not just ask me that – Brendan Shanahan, he’s the president of the Toronto Maple Leafs,” she practically hissed at her, continuing her walk. “Not to mention a hockey legend. If you work a year for him you can get a job in any adjacent field you want – sports, media, journalism, writing, whatever. A million people would kill for this job.”

Writing. Writing. WRITING!!!!! Alarm bells were going off in Aberdeen’s ears. “It sounds like a great opportunity. I’d love to be considered.”

Frances giggled, pushing her clipboard up to cover the smile on her face. They had stopped in front of a series of doors and Aberdeen felt like she was going to have to pick the one without the tiger in it. “Aberdeen…the Toronto Maple Leafs are a hockey club. An interest in hockey…even just a little bit, is crucial,” she explained condescendingly. Aberdeen wondered how someone like this could even get promoted. “Do you play hockey?

“No.”

“Do you watch hockey?”

“No.”

Frances looked shocked. “Do you know who the Toronto Maple Leafs are?”

“Of course I know who the Toronto Maple Leafs are,” Aberdeen huffed. “I just don’t…I mean, I don’t…”

“If I put a picture of Mats Sundin in front of you right now could you pick him apart from Wendel Clark or Doug Gilmour?”

There was an awkward pause. “Are those Mr. Shanahan’s right-hand men?”

“Oh my God,” Frances muttered under her breath. “Have you ever been to a game?”

“Yes.”

“Are you lying?”

“No – no, I’m not lying,” Aberdeen said quickly. “One of my friends – her dad gets tickets through clients or whatever. I’ll go to maybe one a year with her family. But it’s not – I’m not like…the experience is fun.”

Before Frances could respond with something that was ruder than the last thing she said, her phone let out a really loud notification. She balanced the clipboard on one hand as she took out her phone. But as she looked at the message on the screen, her face dropped. “Oh my God, oh my God, no!”

Aberdeen’s face dropped too. “What’s wrong?”

Frances dropped her clipboard onto the desk and ran around it, grabbing the phone receiver and dialling a number. Almost automatically, she began talking. “He’s on his way. Tell everyone the story needs to be retracted now,” she barked before hanging up. A man walked through another door and suddenly, it was complete mayhem. People were running through everywhere.

“He wasn’t supposed to arrive until 9:30. What happened?” the man asked Frances.

“Those idiots at the Sun had the audacity to actually post the story about his daughter online. God, these people!” Frances huffed.

Aberdeen stood awkwardly as everyone seemed to go into mayhem mode. Frances was running around like a chicken with her head cut off, that one guy had mysteriously disappeared, and men in suits were in and out of everywhere with panicked looks on their faces. She watched as Frances whipped into the office and began putting stuff out on the desk – a glass of San Pellegrino water, a venti Starbucks, and the sports sections of all the local newspapers. When she was done, Frances grabbed the clipboard from her desk, a pen, and ran back down the corridor they just came from, leaving Aberdeen there, standing alone. Awkwardly.

Eventually, she could hear Frances’s voice again – much more polite this time – and footsteps of very expensive shoes clacking down the hallway. “Yes Mr. Shanahan, of course.”

“And tell David at The Sun that I’m this close to revoking media access to the locker room if he publishes another article to do with my children ever again,” a voice Aberdeen could only assume was Brendan Shanahan’s was echoing down the hallway.

“I’ll get right on it.”

“Then tell Ben up in the legal department to draw up the paperwork necessary for that to scare them,” she heard, and finally, they rounded the corner. Frances and Mr. Brendan Shanahan, President of the Toronto Maple Leafs. He was angry. Aberdeen could tell, even if she didn’t hear any of his last sentences – his body language showed it all. She stepped back a few steps so he could get into his office unimpeded, where he would very obviously yell at the top of his lungs once he shut the door.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

Frances stood in front of Aberdeen, shielding her from Brendan’s view as he looked back at Aberdeen from inside his office. “Nobody – well – human resources sent her about the personal assistant job and I was going to interview her…but, but she’s hopeless,” she chuckled out, “and totally wrong for the job—”

“Well clearly I’m going to have to do that myself, since the last two you sent me were completely inadequate,” he deadpanned. Frances’s back stiffened at the words. “So send her in,” he finished as he sat down at his desk.

Frances walked out of Mr. Shanahan’s office. “Mr. Shanahan would like to see you,” she said politely, loud enough for him to hear. It was when she leaned in closer that she began to whisper so he couldn’t. “Brendan Shanahan is the absolute nicest person you will ever meet,” she began, “but he is also the busiest, most intense, most dedicated hockey professional in the entire National Hockey League. Do you understand?”

Aberdeen gulped. “Yes.”

“And I hope you know that this is a very difficult job for which you re totally wrong, and if you mess up my head is on the chopping block.”

‘That might not be so bad’, Aberdeen thought. She would have appreciated some words of encouragement, like what Kasha had given her this morning, rather than the shpeal she was getting now. But Aberdeen digressed, and nodded her head. She took out a copy of her resume from her purse before walking in.

When she did, she couldn’t help but notice all the fine detailing of his office. A lot of oak, bookcases, a lot of framed pictures of his family, and a giant Toronto Maple Leaf logo plastered – literally plastered – onto the wall. He even had a giant oak desk – so regal – in the middle of the room.

“Who are you?” Brendan asked in a tone much softer, but still angry.

Aberdeen took a deep breath. This was her time to shine. “Hi Mr. Shanahan. My name is Aberdeen Bloom,” she said, stepping forward awkwardly to place her resume on his desk. “I recently graduated from the University of Toronto—”

“And what are you doing here?” he asked.

Aberdeen blanked. What was she doing here? “Um, well, I think I could do a good job as your assistant, and um…” she started, noticing that Brendan was putting on his glasses. Her gave her a look as those words left her mouth. He grabbed the newspapers off his desk and placed them in front of him, over her resume.

‘Alright Aberdeen. Cut the bullshit’ she told herself. “Yeah, so, I graduated U of T and want to become a writer. I sent my resume out everywhere, and my work to try to get published, and finally I got a call from the MLSE human resources department, and…well, basically it’s this or bank-telling.”

Brendan didn’t look up from his newspaper. “So you’re not a fan of the Toronto Maple Leafs.”

Aberdeen’s body stiffened. “Uh…no?”

“And before today you had never heard of me.”

“…No.”

There was an awkward pause. Brendan didn’t seem like he had any more questions in him – if he even cared. It was so clear that he didn’t and that she was bombing this interview. But Aberdeen felt more words coming. “I was recently published in Acta Victoriana, the oldest continuous university magazine in Canada – twice, actually – and was also published in the Hart House Review—”

“I think we’re done here,” Brendan said, not looking up from the newspaper. That was it. Cut throat. Didn’t care.

Aberdeen swallowed her pride. So this interview was a dumpster fire from the get-go. But it was him that came in angry and him that came into this without an open mind. She couldn’t help but scoff at how he dismissed her; he didn’t even have the courtesy to look up. She turned to walk out.

‘Don’t let it end like this’ her mind told her. ‘You have so much within you that he doesn’t want to see’.

So she turned around. “You know what? You’re right. I know nothing about hockey,” she began, her voice as strong and powerful as she could make it. “The woman who brought me in asked if I knew the difference between Matt…Gilmour and something…something Sundin, and I didn’t. I don’t fit in here,” she continued, noticing that he finally looked up. “I’m a girl who grew up in an old bungalow in Etobicoke with immigrant parents. I’m an English major with a double minor in classics and film. But I’m smart. I’m really f…really smart, and I learn fast, and I will work hard if you give me the chance to do so here—”

“Good news – they’ve agreed to take down the story,” somebody burst into the room interrupting her speech. Brendan looked at her until the person laid their iPad down in front of him. “The tweet linking the article is gone and it’s completely gone off their website. Adrienne Batra wants to call you to personally apologize.”

“There’s no way I’m speaking to that woman,” Brendan mumbled. “Tell her I want it in writing. And one to my daughter as well.”

“Thank you for your…time,” Aberdeen said, as if he gave her any. She walked out of his office and out of his life forever.

Aberdeen decided to take the stairs, slowly walking down the flights of stairs, hearing her shoes clack against the bare concrete. There, she could at least wallow in her self-pity after that train wreck of an interview. She could deliberate about her next choices and steps. Keep bank-telling? Go back and get her Master’s? Take a new course? Tell her parents how she was failing? Move back home? Never do anything with her life? Live in her parents’ basement for the rest of her life? Maybe she should just stay in this stairwell. Maybe she should start living here, since there was nothing else for her out there in the big wide world. Maybe she’d become a hermit.

As she finally reached the ground floor, she thanked the receptionist again, who ignored her again. Typical. As she was about to walk out of 50 Bay Street, she heard her name being called. “Aberdeen!”

She turned around. Frances was waving her back, rolling her eyes at the same time. Aberdeen furrowed her brows. Did she forget something? What was going on? She scurried over to Frances. “What’s wrong?”

“Brendan wants to speak to you.”

Aberdeen gulped. She was going to get yelled at by the President of the Toronto Maple Leafs. He was going to completely obliterate her entire life and not-yet-burgeoning career for that little stunt she pulled inside his office with that speech, and she’d never be able to find a job anywhere in Toronto again. She may as well just move into her parents’ basement now.

As they both rode the elevator back up, Aberdeen’s heart kept beating faster and faster. “Do you know what he wants to speak about?” Aberdeen asked.

“I have no clue,” Frances said absent-mindedly, typing something into her phone.

When they arrived back upstairs, Frances led her straight back into Brendan’s office. He was working on his laptop now, instead of reading his newspaper over Aberdeen’s resume. “Brendan, I have Aberdeen back for you,” Frances announced.

“Excellent,” he said, his voice much more upbeat than what is was five or ten minutes ago. “Franny, I’d like you to take Aberdeen to get her picture taken for her new MLSE identification badge,” he said.

Frances’s eyes bulged out of her head. So did Aberdeen’s. “W-What?” Frances stuttered out.

“And after that, I’d like you to take the town car and take Aberdeen to the Eaton’s Centre to get her an iPad Pro with a keyboard so we can start the process of downloading all the necessary apps and internal mail server she’ll need to do the job.”

Aberdeen’s stomach dropped. “I…I got the job?” she asked, completely flabbergasted. Was he nuts? Completely, certifiably insane?

“You start next Monday. Is that fine with you?”

Aberdeen found herself nodding.

***

“I’m so glad Steven could get that done for you today,” Brendan said as he rounded the corner of his desk so he could sit in his fancy big chair. Aberdeen nodded, looking at the screen of her new iPad Pro. Steven, one of the guys from tech support, had helped her download everything she needed to have on it.

“Yeah. It was all really fast.”

“After you finish up here today you may need to go back to the Eaton’s Centre,” Brendan informed her. “You’re going to need to purchase a work wardrobe. Keep every receipt because MLSE will reimburse you. I prefer black, but really…get whatever you think is appropriate for an office.”

“Okay.”

“No heels necessary. When we travel, I obviously don’t mind something more laid back – especially trips to the west coast. Do you have a valid and working passport?”

“Yes sir.”

“Make sure you have it when traveling. Our charter plane will still need to see it. We’ll make copies.”

“Yes sir.”

“You’ll need to be available every game day. We usually have Sundays off, but it’s a very untraditional schedule. You’re okay with that?”

“Yes sir.”

“And I have your contract for you,” he said, grabbing some paperwork on the desk. “We’ll have someone from the legal department come and explain it shortly,” he handed it to her, “but you’ll see the salary at the bottom of the first page.” Aberdeen looked down. Her eyes bulged at the number. “If everything is to your liking, then we can sign.”

“Okay,” she nodded her head. She gulped.

Brendan looked at Aberdeen and could tell she was nervous – it was obvious in her short “Yes sir” responses anyway, but she looked like she wanted to curl into her shell. “Before Ben from legal gets here, I would like to apologize about this morning,” he said. “A local newspaper ran an article about one of my daughters, and my children…well, my children are completely off-limits. Everybody knows that. But sometimes some journalists like to see how far they can take things, even though they know family is off limits.”

Aberdeen understood where he was coming from. If anyone ever said anything bad about Siena or Camden, she’d have their head on a spike. She couldn’t even imagine what it was like for a father, or any parent for that matter, to have an article published about their child without their permission. “I understand, Mr. Shanahan.”

“We are like a family here, you know – MLSE, but the Leafs especially. You will feel part of that family soon enough.”

Aberdeen nodded nervously. “I’m sure I will, Mr. Shanahan.”

“Well…” he shrugged his shoulders, leaning back in his chair and smiling at her. “Congratulations, Miss Bloom. You are now an employee of MLSE.”

***

“With the Leafs?!” Kasha was shocked when Aberdeen told her. She’d started pouring glasses of wine when Aberdeen told her she got a job, but once she revealed the specifics, Kasha was shocked. “Gosh Aberdeen, remember when my dad would bring me, you, and Siena to games with the company season tickets?”

“I know.”

“And now you’re working for them?!”

“For the President. I’m his personal assistant.”

“Oh my God!” Kasha exclaimed. “Seriously though, I bet a million jocks would kill for that job,” she commented as she finished pouring the wine.

“Yeah. Great,” Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders. “Thing is, I’m not one of them.”

“Well, you gotta start somewhere, right?” Kasha offered. She picked up both wine glasses, handing one to Aberdeen. Kasha held her glass up. “To jobs that pay the rent.”

Aberdeen giggled. “To jobs that pay the rent.”

#william nylander #william nylander imagine #william nylander fic #william nylander fan fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs fan fic #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fan fic #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey fan fic #the president wears prada series

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kpopkrappykraftbin · 7 years

Text

You Too

Hoshi x Reader

Coffee/ College AU

word count: 1,445

fluffy one shot

Masterlist

It happened again.

You could no longer visit the coffee shop you so often frequented for nearly a month. All ruined by one incomplete sentence: “you too”

It was an average late afternoon, and like all other days you headed to the on-campus coffee shop to get your usual fix of caffeine… and of the cute barista. You weren’t a stalker,really, but you did start going to this particular shop only after your friend asked to meet there one day and you saw the adorable squish. As a rather shy person who didn’t often try to start conversation with average strangers- let alone cute servers, it seemed like a better idea to just visit and admire from afar the good looking boy who probably already had an equally good looking girlfriend. His name was Hoshi and his smile was adorable. His bubbly attitude fit the cashier position well as he always greeted customers with a sincere bright expression. Despite really wanting to strike up a conversation with the boy, as most other customers did, you barely squeaked out your order before blushing at looking at your beat up shoes as if they were more interesting than the cute round-cheeked boy in front of you. It went like this most days. And when you told your friend of your small- ish crush she pushed you to take a chance and try to talk to him, after all what was the worst that could happen? Well apparently embarrassing yourself within the first two words you ever said to the boy besides “venti iced mocha” was the worst that could happen.

“And how can I help you?” asked Hoshi brightly.

You spoke your order with a slightly more confident tone. Well at least it was above the normal whisper. Your thoughts were more focused on trying to think of something to say to keep the conversation rolling.

“And your name was y/n right? You come here a lot!” he commented happily. Despite your internal pep talk, you only nodded quickly. Where were all the topics you had thought up while waiting in line?

“y/n? Here’s your coffee” he paused with straight smile and tilted head, looking slightly amused by your surely red face, “I hope you enjoy your coffee!” he rushedly called to you as you turned towards the door.

“You too!” you blurted over your shoulder slightly looking back. It took you .15 seconds to realize just what utter nonsense you had spouted as your eyes rounded in horror and you sped out of the shop at near the speed of light. It wasn’t the first time you had incorrectly responded to someone in customer service, in fact it was more common than not, but none of them had been a cute happy squishy barista like this one. There was no way you could possibly show your face in that coffee shop ever again. For an average late afternoon, your luck sure sucked a little more than usual. Accepting your fate, you went to do the only thing you could think of to make you feel better, and that was to bask in the spring sun with a good book.

It was only when the shadow caused by the setting sun made reading difficult that you started debating whether to just head back inside your dorm for the night. You decided against it because you knew the good weather wouldn’t last long before summer came crashing the party with sweat and sunburns. You would wait until the shadows made it impossible to read. That apparently came a lot faster than you thought when you suddenly found yourself enveloped in a shadow mid-sentence. Somewhat startled by the change in lighting your face jerked up from the pages to have jeaned legs come into your line of sight. Tilting your head further until reaching the face of the person you definitely did not but also really wanted to see.

“You left quickly today, was something the matter?” The direct question caught you slightly off guard but also required a response so you scrambled to form one that was at least more socially acceptable than your earlier reply. “I was just wondering since you usually stay at least to finish your coffee, you seemed in a hurry.” he answered your silence with slightly nervous eyes. Great, now your awkwardness was affecting him too.

“Um, no, I just, um the weather was nice and i really wanted to spend some time enjoying it.”

“Oh,” he seemed slightly relieved by your response, “I get it, I would have loved to join in on the weather if I didn’t have to man the counter” he says with a laugh. After a bit more silence caused by your inability to function like a proper social human being, he asked “What are you reading? Well, I suppose I’m kind of keeping you from reading it now actually.” Another small laugh, this one a little more nervous than the first.

“Oh it’s just one of a series I’ve been reading for a while.” At least this was a topic you could talk about semi comfortably. You continued to give a rundown of the basic premise, not wanting to possibly bore him with the details.

“It sounds interesting, I don’t have a lot of time to read often, but maybe I’ll check that one out.”

“Well you can’t read this one, it’s the third in the series, it wouldn’t make sense, but I can lend you my copy of the first book if you’d like.” you said in a rush. Again your face turned red at noticing what you just said. ‘Of course he didn't mean the exact book you were reading you moron, he meant the series in general!’ Ignoring your internal tirade with a smile, he replied,

“I’d really like that.”

“I could grab it and bring it to the shop tomorrow if you’d like.” you excitedly suggested. Looking around Hoshi replied.

“Or I could walk you to your dorm, it’s kind of dark out since I’ve been holding you hostage by conversation.” For the first time you noticed the sun had been replaced by the moon and night had completely fallen.

“I’d really like that.” you copied his earlier answer. Being a true gentleman, Hoshi walked with you to your dorm, never letting the conversation fall and keeping a friendly distance so as to not accidentally brush your hand while walking beside you. He also waited outside your open door as you went to get him the book you promised. When you handed it off to him, he took it with care and slightly sparkling wide eyes.

“I’ll make sure to take care of it well!” he promised. His assurance left you slightly giggling, something that you seemed to be constantly doing all of the sudden. With a short, but enthusiastic good night Hoshi made his own way back to his dorm leaving you in a happy daze for the rest of the night.

The next day you stood outside the shop debating on whether or not you should go inside. Would you seem obsessed if you came to see and talk to him today as well or would it seem abnormal for you to not visit the shop daily as you used to. Swallowing your worry, and embracing your excitement at the thought of talking to Hoshi again, you opened the door. When it was your turn at the front of the line you were greeted with a wide smile from none other than the cute squish.

“Hi y/n, the usual?”

“You know it.” you replied flushed with the knowledge that he had your order memorized.

“So I started reading the book last night and I’m already hooked, I stayed up late finishing the sixth chapter.” He brought up the book with a grin.

“I’m glad you like it so much, the author’s writing is very addictive.”

“I like it a lot. Maybe we can talk about it more later over a light dinner?” The words came out rushed due to either nervousness or the awareness of the growing line behind you.

“Sure, but how will we meet up?” you tried to ask him while being edged away from the counter.

“Text me!” he yelled as he pointed to a pantomimed coffee cup. Looking at your coffee cup you saw a phone number written on the side next to Hoshi’s name. Glancing back at him you gave him a thumbs up before leaving the shop. You left earlier than normal that day too but that was because you had to figure out what to wear for your first date.

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kunpifook-blog · 7 years

Text

got7 as uni students

Mark: The best type of friend to take to parties."C's get degrees." Does back flips when he's plastered. Friends with everybody, even snakes that nobody trusts. Down for anything. Every one of his drunk stories starts with "so I wake up on the beach, no pants...". The loyal friend. Facetimes his dad in the dorm. Jinyoung: Anything involving humanities is his specialty. he's the bitch in class that tells you your question is stupid. Probably a TA. Takes charge of group projects then complains when nobody does their work. The more he nags you = the more he loves you. Always first to wake up in the dorm so he takes the liberty of being everyone else's alarm clock. Claims he does not sweat. Yugyeom: Fuckin' nerd.bakes for the boys whenever they have a mass all nighter before exams. Doesn't understand the strength of hard liquor and never will. Is Trying His Best™. Flirts without trying to. Parties terrify him but he always ends up in the middle of the dance floor by midnight. allows only Bam to copy his homework because "at least he tries" Bambam: does not, in fact, try. Banks on being the cool foreigner. Learned the French word for boat and now tells everyone he's fluent. Talk shit about his rhinestone shoes, and prepare to be cut. Has never come to class looking dishevelled, not once. Bought a Gucci bag instead of this semester's books. Contemplated saving money by not buying Starbucks every morning. Proceeded to purchase a Venti. Jackson: Parties nonstop but can still manage a 3.4 GPA. every single person on campus knows him. A Lil bit of a hoe. Yells for everyone to shut up when his mom calls. Knows his professors' middle names. "professor, how's your mom doing I haven't seen Carol in forever!" Does he have the ability to feel embarrassment? Probably not. Cried when he had to virtually dissect a frog in bio class. Jokes about being the jealous friend but is. Reminds everyone in the room he is the most poor out of all of them. JB: Just wants to be Left Alone. Takes all of Youngjaes classes on purpose because he says his presence "calms him." Speech class is his kryptonite. Once threatened to burn down the communications building to avoid his midterm presentation. Messy hair, glasses, and baggy flannel all day every day. Really good at science for some reason. "Alcohol is not a game." Pretends to hate it when the boys pamper him when he comes home stressed. Bugs Yugyeom about doing well in his studies. Youngjae: Pure in the streets, a Mess in the sheets. "What do you mean the dorm doesn't allow dogs?" Doesn't look at his assignments for the week until the day before they're due. Somehow manages to get everything finished. Cannot tell when he's being hit on. Better at the school counselors' job than the actual school counselor. Only gets drunk on wine.

#got7 as #got7 #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #got7 au #lol #jinyoung #jackson #yugyeom #youngjae #mark tuan #Jackson wang #jaebum #bambam #got7 blog

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jansen1107 · 7 years

Text

Trick-or-Treating (Kinda) in Cuba

I recently returned from a trip to Cuba. I had a wonderful time. Cuba is a beautiful and poor country where the absence of American influence is immediately noticeable and welcome. Called The Forbidden Tour, the theme of this trip was things haunted, spooky, and horror. Okay,… it was really just an excuse for we American tourists to take advantage of a group tour to Cuba while we still have the chance—Donald Trump is working tirelessly to close the door that was opened by Barack Obama. I’m glad our group got in when we did, and while we were there, we knew we were in a window of opportunity that would soon be shut to Americans. And, really, out of nothing more than spite. Sad.

I’ve been on five or six of these haunted horror trips. My friend Charles is the organizer, and his company is based in Connecticut. He keeps dreaming up new tours we can do, which gives us an excuse to go to new countries. Cuba is not really known for its haunted sites, but we found a few. The bunkers at the National Hotel in Havana offered some serious pings on Charles’s ghost-hunting app. We also toured Castillo de Jagua, an old fort that was made of mortar using animal blood and that is believed to be haunted by a “woman in blue.” Supposedly, her bones were excavated during a renovation and are now on display in the castle’s chapel under a thin sheet of plexiglass.

I was also humbled and honored to be a guest at an actual Santeria ceremony. The unsettling part of the ceremony was the noticeable pig’s head at the back of the room and a large plastic bucket that looked like it had the remains of a dog in it. From what I understand, Santerians practice animal sacrifice, and being a vegetarian and an animal lover, I’m not sure how I feel about that. I have tremendous respect for people of all faiths, but on some things, I’ll have to agree to disagree.

The Santerians were incredibly generous and offered us shots of black coffee with sugar, plates of pineapple and watermelon, bags of popcorn, and even gift bags with incense sticks, cigars, a tea candle, a paper cone of what I think is either incense or possibly dried beans, and a chalk seashell. The English-speaking priest asked us if we’d be interested in buying plastic baby dolls in custom Santerian outfits that were supposedly imbued with magical energy or spirits. I declined (even though I’m a toy collector), but now I regret it because they didn’t ask for donations at the end of the ceremony, and selling the dolls was probably a source of income for them.

Our group danced with the Santerians as men played drums at the front of the room and one man sang in a beautiful voice, calling out to the congregation and being answered in kind. I really worked up a sweat and felt the energy in the room. Two women had to be escorted from the dance area when it was clear they were possessed of the spirit. In Santeria, the spirits or orishas ride the dancers and possess them. Instead of being frightened, I was awed. It was a humbling experience to be part of it all.

Other sites we saw included the grand cemetery in Havana, which is the largest urban cemetery in the world. We actually lost an older man from our group and had to organize a search party, fearing he had passed out from the heat somewhere in the forest of mausoleums. Being a loner, he had a penchant for going off on his own, but I finally spotted him on his way toward us on an avenue that was being used for a military drill. Phew! That was the most unpleasant scare on the trip.

Havana is beautiful. I had the opportunity to ride “the oldies”; antique cars from the ‘50s and ‘60s that have been kept in good condition since they were made and are now used mainly as cabs for tourists. Riding along the beautiful Malecon seawall was like a dream and a reminder that my heart belongs in seaside towns.

The people of Havana were stoic and thoroughly unimpressed with Americans, which was both humbling and relieving. It was nice to walk around and not be stared at, even if we looked like goths in our dark clothes, T-shirts with ouija board prints, and (gasp!) facial hair! Everyone looked the same in terms of clothing to me, and I was longing for just one or two university students to come walking along with brightly colored hair… or piercings… or a mohawk. It never happened while I was there. The whole country was so understated. The only billboards were those advertising propaganda. There were no logos or ads jumping in our faces at every turn, and it was hard to know if we were looking at a restaurant or a copy center from the outside. It felt like the whole country was a speakeasy.

And not a single Starbucks in sight! Hallelujah! Although I did have my traveling companions doubled over with laughter when I asked the barista at the National Museum’s snack shop (in a whiny valley girl voice), “Can I get a venti caramel macchiato? I haven’t had a caramel macchiato in days, okay? I am so dying right now.” Of course, the request went way over his head, and he made me a frozen lemonade, one of only about three beverages on offer. It was delicious.

My friend Krys and I got up at 6:15 to run 4 miles on several mornings. We loved watching the sun come up as we ran down by the water. Commuters were out waiting for the unreliable buses even at that early hour. We said, “Hola,” to many of them as we passed, and the Cubans were very friendly. Watching the sun come up as we ran on those early mornings reminded me how beautiful this life can be.

Cuba is one of those places where you can actually use your rudimentary Spanish and not get an eye roll, like you do when you’re in Europe—where everyone is fluent in English and doesn’t have time for you to struggle with verb conjugation. I was pleasantly surprised to see that my four years of high school Spanish and subsequent years of reading the language and eavesdropping has made me decidedly conversant. I was able to help my friend Lynn find a souvenir map of Cuba at the airport, told the cashier in a grocery store that Cuban coffee is reputed to be among the best in the world, and had a conversation with a man in front of the National Theater about how he’s happy to see tourists but the government takes all the tourist dollars… speaking of which, could I spare a peso or two and maybe a couple bars of soap?

We Americans are spoiled for choice, and it’s something you take for granted until you walk into a Cuban grocery store and see only two choices of coffee, three choices of shampoo, and hear rumors that a shipment of Gouda cheese can cause a near run on the store. Some of our group complained that hotel cleaning staff were stealing toiletries. I don’t think this was due to need so much as an actual hunger for choice. At one stop, a man asked me if I had Ivory soap on me, something rare in Cuba. It’s human nature to want choice and variety in all things, and we Americans don’t know how lucky we are.

And that brings me to the part of my story about the kids. In our emails prior to the trip, Charles recommended that we bring cheap toys and toiletries to hand out to the Cubans. The weekend before leaving, I went around to the dollar stores in my neighborhood picking up bars of soap, cheap Barbie knock-offs, coloring books, crayons, pencils, Matchbox cars, and Pez dispensers. It seemed like every time we ran into a group of school kids, my goodies were stowed in my suitcase under the bus where I couldn’t access them. It happened outside Hemingway’s house and again outside Castillo de Jagua. Just seeing the looks on the kid’s faces was priceless. Finally, I got smart and started carrying my goodies around in a canvas tote bag with the tour logo on the front. I was like a wide-eyed, maniacal Santa Claus on the lookout for kids. When we got to the National Theater, I spied a little boy with no shirt on and a pair of shorts hanging out in front of a restaurant. He must have been about five or six. I was across the street and couldn’t get to him in time because he disappeared when I crossed. I was heartened that some tourists walking by handed him a green tennis ball before I could get to him.

A few minutes later, I spied a little girl holding the hand of a man who I assumed to be her grandfather. Quickly, I reached into my bag and handed her one of the knock-off Barbies. I’ll never forget the look on her face! Her mouth formed a little “o” and her eyebrows shot up. Isn’t it the best feeling in the world to make kids happy? I had read reports that girls actually line up on the playground to play with a single Barbie doll. And I think that sucks!

As I continued walking with my group, I looked back and saw that the girl and her grandfather had stopped. She then came running back to me with the doll. I shouted to her, “¡Es tuyo! ¡Es tuyo! (It’s yours! It’s yours!)”, thinking she was bringing the doll back to me because her grandfather wanted to teach her a lesson in modesty. Boy, was I ever wrong! She pointed to the other two dolls sticking out of the top of my bag and said that she wanted those, too! I obliged. So, now she either has a whole set of new dolls for herself or she’s going to give the others to her sister(s) or classmates. I admired her enterprising spirit!

The rest of my goodies went quickly. It gave me such a great feeling to hand out each item. The girl on her dad’s shoulders who cheered when I handed her a coloring book and a box of crayons. The little boy who shyly turned away from me when I handed him an Optimus Prime Pez dispenser. (His mother assured him it was okay.) The parents were always so appreciative. But that little boy who got away will always stay with me. I send you positive vibes, little man!

At the end of the week, our group customarily has a costume ball where we get dressed up and compete for prizes. Although I won “Crowd Favorite” on our last trip to Germany and Prague, my Spring-Heeled Jack costume was an utter failure. No one knew who I was supposed to be. I decided not to wear makeup with it because it was so hot and muggy. You won’t find many pictures of me in our shared group photos. I think I just weirded everyone out in my skeleton shirt, bat cape, and cut-up rubber Batman mask. (I was having flashbacks to a similar experience when I was a child.) No matter. I’ll wear the costume again for Halloween and then retire it. I love the character and was glad to wear him in costume form.

So, that was my haunted mystery tour to Cuba! What an amazing time. It’s sad to think that if you’re an American and are reading this, you might not have the chance to visit Cuba for a while. The Trump administration is moving quickly to slam that door shut. And thereby taking away one of our freedoms. “Make America Great Again,” he says? My advice is to get there this year (2017). If you’re interested, Charles is offering the tour again next year, if Americans can still travel to Cuba. But the next trip will be more of a tour for music and food than a horror tour. Tropicana and Buena Vista Social Club were some music venues we got to enjoy, and I highly recommend you check them out if you’re in Havana.

And be sure to bring lots of toys for the kids!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RMhS5Xt_sRE&list=PLPd7HOSqosr5QPRTrdJiwt9dVaFmz7UpF

#Cuba #tourism #horror vacations #Americans abroad

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