#and go on a trip together the two of us which we’ve never done

[vydumaj]

I really do everything I can to avoid flying unless it’s impossible any other way, but the price difference for mine and my sister’s trip… €800 by train €340 airplane…

[isak-dot-gov]

I'm gon' make you feel it

A/n: Uh hey. This is the first time I'm posting on here so I hope you like it. Kinda nervous btw. Also not proofread.

Word count: 2226

Summary: Months after you and Rhea break up, your best friends decide to take you out for a night in the city after not seeing you for a while. while there you run into Rhea and the rest of the Judgement Day.

Warnings: Suggestive(nothing actually done tho)

---------------

“Y/n, come on. We haven’t gone out in so long,” I heard Jasmine say.

“She’s right, y/n/n, you’ve been MIA for so long now. Please come out with us,” Eve says.

Jasmine and Eve have been my best friends since the three of us were in the first grade. We were placed at the same table in the classroom’s seating chart on the first day and we’ve been friends ever since. They have been with me through all my highs, lows, and everything in between. From celebrating birthdays and acing tests to comforting each other through heartbreaks and family troubles, our bond has only grown stronger. We've shared countless sleepovers, road trips, and late-night talks that have made us inseparable.

Tonight they were trying to get me to join them on one of our ‘late night adventures’. Basically what would happen is that we would get ready to go out and hit the city with zero plans or expectations on what we would be doing or what the outcome of the night would be. Sometimes it would be going from one club to the other and sleeping over at one of our houses. Other times it would end with us getting matching tattoos. The most recent one of these nights was about six months ago, a month after I broke up with Rhea. We got tipsy, went to a trampoline park and I ended up getting a brand new set of nipple piercings. To say these nights were some of the most fun I’ve ever had would definitely be an understatement.

“Girls, I don’t think I’m up to it tonight. I’ve been so busy with work lately,” I said with a tired sigh. Ever since Rhea and I broke up, I’ve thrown myself into my work as a way of avoiding the feelings I not only had for our situation but for her as well. Rhea and I broke up seven months ago after a huge argument. She felt that I shouldn’t be having so many female friends and that I could potentially be cheating on her with one of them, which was completely untrue. The reason I had so many female friends was because I was in an all-girls school for my whole primary and highschool, because of this women have always taken up the majority of my social life. Unfortunately for me, Rhea had always been the jealous type and no amount of reassurance that I gave her ever seemed to calm the green monster that tended to take over whenever I hung out with people she didn’t like. Getting to the point where I was willing to let her go was hard, but I was able to do it after Jasmine and Eve showed me exactly how unhealthy we were together.

I was a wreck for a few weeks after the breakup. Rhea would constantly call, so much so that I had to turn my phone off and only have it on during the hours that she spent working because I knew she tended to stay far away from her phone during those hours. I never wanted to leave the house and I barely got any sleep in. Thankfully, my best friends got sick of it quite quickly and made me start coming out of my shell again.

“Girl, that’s exactly why we should be going out tonight,” Eve says.

“Let loose a little. Give us 30 minutes of your time. We promise if you really feel uncomfortable after that time we’ll go to my place and watch a movie or something,” Jasmine says.

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” my best friends say in unison. 

“Ok ok, I’ll do it,” I say with a smile.

“Yes!”

“Fuck yeah!”

___________________

Two hours later and I’m sitting on a bar stool with my friends on either side of me and my third drink of the night in my hand. We reminisce on our primary and highschool years when four people enter the bar and completely shift the atmosphere in the room. I notice the bartender slightly shift her posture and briefly check herself in the reflective wall that stood behind her, facing those sitting in the bar. After she does so I hear a familiar voice next to me say and my high spirit for the night is immediately crushed.

“Uh can I get two whiskeys on the rocks, a gin and tonic, and a martini?” Damian, Rhea’s friend and fellow Judgement Day member, says next to me. I freeze and shut my eyes tightly, while doing so, I hear Jasmine and Eve fall silent and keep their eyes on me. Once I open my eyes, I notice their eyes on me as they carry sympathy for my current state.

“Oh hey, y/n. I haven’t seen you since…” he trails off and I can hear the cautious tone in his voice as he stops himself from saying anything that would make me uncomfortable. I always preferred Damian over the rest of Rhea’s friends, he always felt the need to make sure I was ok and in moments like these, I really appreciated him for it.

“Hey, Dami. How have you been? What brings you out here?” I saw with a strained smile. I have no idea why I feel this way or why I’m acting this way towards him. He never did anything to me, in fact, all he’s ever done was look out for me.

“I’ve been doing alright. Judgement Day’s going to Wrestlemania, so we decided to go out for drinks as a way of celebrating,” he says with a soft smile. Soon after, the bartender brings the drinks he ordered for him and his friends with a flirty smile and a wink. Uh, ok I guess.

“Anyways, I’ll hopefully see you around. I’ll tell the rest you say hi,” he says.

“Oh you don’t need to…” I start but he walks away before I get to the end of my sentence.

“Well that went better than I thought it would,” Jasmine says obliviously. Eve and I shoot her side-eyes as she gives the two of us a genuine smile, the Essence blush she’s wearing showing on her cheeks a little more due to the lighting in the bar.

“Do you want to leave, y/n. We don’t mind if you do,” Eve says compassionately.

“No no. We were having fun. I don’t want to leave yet,” I say and genuinely mean. I haven’t felt this free in so long and I would be damned if I let Rhea’s presence in this bar ruin that freedom for me.

My friends both give me light nods and we continue with our conversation. As the night continues, one of our favourite songs from our highschool years, ‘No Hands’ by Waka Flocka Flame, starts playing. The three of us immediately get hyped and start making our way to the dance floor to dance. The start of that song marks a streak of throwback songs from the DJ and we continue dancing for a while. As we do so I feel multiple pairs of eyes on me, when I look up I notice Rhea and the rest of her friends watching me. I make eye contact with each of them one by one before my eyes focus on the girl whose whole being makes my heart dizzy. She has an attentive look with a hint of longing in her eyes as she undresses me with them. With the new found confidence in my system brought by the many drinks I've had tonight, I find it in me to wink and decide to give her a show.

‘Feel It’ by Jacquees starts blaring through the speakers and my friends and I huddle up onto each other by our fronts and backs. I’m in front with Jasmine right behind me, her left hand on my left hip and her right hand on Eve’s right hip and Eve’s hands on both of Jasmine’s hips. We start swaying together to the beat of the song and sing along. At the position I’m standing at, I have a clear view of Rhea’s booth on the upper level of the bar. She’s sitting forward with her elbows on her knees and a drink in her hand as she watches me intensely. The chorus of the song starts and I start swaying my hips in circles as Jasmine and Eve take it as a sign to follow my lead. The three of us move in sync as the song continues. I get a little too into the song as a few minutes later I feel Jasmine’s hand remove itself from my hips and two, much larger, hands replace hers on either side of my hands.

“You two wouldn’t mind if I borrowed your friend for the night, would you?” 

My girls take a moment to look at me for reassurance in the response they’re going to give and I nod lightly as a sign of telling them I’ll be ok with her.

“Oh sure, Rhea. Take her home in the morning and don’t do any weird shit,” Jasmine says as she turns her attention to Eve.

“Call us if she starts acting up,” Eve says, sending a glare with her blue eyes to Rhea. I nod and feel Rhea pull me by my waist to the exit of the bar. We walk to her car slowly and in silence as the heels I chose to wear tonight start proving to be harder to walk in. Rhea quickly got impatient with my instability and swiftly lifted me up bridal style before making the rest of the walk to her car. She opens the door to her passenger seat and softly places me in the seat before closing the door and climbing in at the driver’s side.

“You’ve never done that before,” I say as she pulls out of her parking spot and makes her way to her house.

She looks at me briefly with confusion and says, “What do you mean, y/n?”

“You’ve never opened the car door for me. That’s a first.”

“Huh. I guess it is,” she says.

As I look around in her car I notice a bright pink hair tie on her wrist. Without thinking I point at it and say, “Where’d you get that? I like it. Might just get one.”

“Sweetness, this is yours. You left it at mine after you know what happened,” she says.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” a moment of silence passes before she says, “How have you been, sweetness. We haven’t spoken in a while.”

Fuck. There’s that Australian accent that I’ve never had the self-control to resist.

“Uh, um, I’ve been good. I mean, as good as a person can be after a break up. You know, I don’t think you should be calling me that,” I say.

“Calling you what, sweetness?” she asks.

“Sweetness. It does things to me.”

She chuckles lightly before she says, “It does things to you? Whatever could you be talking about, my love?”

I tilt my head back into the headrest of the car as I exhale deeply. “Don’t play dumb with me, Rhea. We both know you’re way smarter than that. Don’t act like you have no idea all the things you do to my body by simply being this close to me. This isn’t a good idea and  we know it isn’t.”

“But I’ve missed you,” was her only response.

“I know, Rhea. And I’ve missed you too. You know that,” I say.

As she parks in her driveway she turns to me and asks, “Then why did you leave me?”

I turn towards her and respond, “We weren’t good for each other. You know that. I know that. We were only pulling each other down by being together.”

She gives me a tight lipped smile before saying, “What do I need to do? I can be better, I promise I can. I know I wasn’t a good girlfriend in the past. I was a dick. We both know that, and even when you tried to make me feel secure in our relationship I still pushed you away and blamed you for all my insecurities. I just need the chance to prove that to you. I don’t think I can hand any more time away from you, baby. Take me back. Please?”

This is a side of Rhea I’ve never seen before, and I chose to proceed cautiously because of that. She has always had the ability to use her words to get what she wants from people. However, something in the way she was looking at me made me feel like she was being sincere and my heart couldn’t help but fall for her all over again.

“Fuck I missed you,” I say as I capture her lips with mine. The kiss started out softly but turned hard and passionate really quickly. Rhea held onto me extremely tightly as if she was afraid I’d vanish at any moment. Her hands travelled to my waist and squeezed tightly, earning a breathy whimper from my lips.

“Rhea,” I said in a moan as her lips found their way on my neck.

“Mhm, baby? Tell me what you need,” she said.

“Please take me your house and fuck me.”

“That I can definitely do for you, sweetness.”

[21wanderer]

Meetup point

”Why is it taking him so long?” Leon said annoyed. ”Ssssh… Just be patient,” I hushed, ”André – I mean Frank – is going to pull through.” ”Yeah, but what happens if those guys get back on their bikes, then we’re screwed!”

Leon and I sat quietly at a picnic table at a small parking lot in a forested area. Only a few meters away stood our friend André (or Frank as we should call him now), along with two other bikers. And André was the one who was going to fulfill our dreams.

The three of us managed to overpower Frank, the guy in the Arlen Ness leather suit, on the nearby gas station toilet, then André slipped inside him, once he had been hollowed out, thanks to the bodysuit serum. With André in Frank’s body (we got the name by searching his wallet), the plan was in motion. Now we just needed André Frank to find us some suitable bodies, and we’ll be all-set. We’ve all wanted to do a bike trip together, but it had been many years since we've done that, we’ve all gotten older, and bikes were not part of our lives anymore... until I came up with this idea. I missed being on the open road, and I missed being young and strong, and the bodysuit serum was the solution to all our problems.

André was going to go to a common biker meetup point a stone’s throw from the gas station. Leon and I would wait on the sideline, whilst he would lure a couple of bikers into a trap.

We were in awe, when we saw the two guys André struck up conversation with, they were perfect; young, strong, handsome and wearing matching jackets. The last detail was the cherry on the top, once we were in, we had to get a matching suit for André Frank too, I think we would look great if we all wore the same suit.

Leon was apparently worried, they’d get away, but I had full faith in André, he was really good at talking and he knew more about bikes than anyone I knew, he was the perfect person to keep them occupied. I was however not sure, how we would turn them both into bodysuits, we either had to separate them and do one at a time, or to strike them both swiftly at the same time.

”They are coming this way,” Leon whispered anxiously. ”Just keep calm, and try not to look like you’re looking, they probably won’t even notice us,” I said in a calm manner, hoping that Leon would stop worrying so much. Granted I would be very disappointed too, if they got away, they were pristine examples, but we couldn’t afford to mess this up.

The three bikers began to walk towards their bikes. Leon was probably about to do another outburst, but he seemed to calm down, when he saw, they all took their jackets off. At least that meant, they weren’t leaving yet, and now I must admit, I felt the urge as strongly as Leon. Seeing those muscled, tan arms, broad shoulders and tight leather. I was hard enough already, and it was a struggle to contain myself.

”Which one do you want?” asked Leon. ”I am quite keen on the long-haired one,” I replied, his smooth tan skin, full chestnut brown hair and strong body, all things I didn’t have, I wanted it all so bad. ”Heh, fair enough, I really want the other one, never really liked long hair – but it will look great on you,” Leon said, the last remark sounded almost apologetic, not really that I minded, after all, hair can be cut, but it would be nice trying to have long hair for a change.

It seems like André was making his move, one of the bikers knelt in front of his bike, the other one’s attention was solely on the bike too. André was getting up, they hadn’t noticed him. This was it.

Leon clenched my shoulder hard, as the two bikers slumped to the ground. The standing biker first, the kneeling one second. André lifted their unconscious bodies and arranged them, so it looked like they were both just sitting on the curb, whilst their bodies were being emptied. André beckoned us. Leon and I hurried towards him, both eager to join him. -End-

[jokeroutsubs]

An interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin and Nace Jordan in Jana magazine, published 10.10.2023. Featuring a very special shoutout! 😁

On the couch with Joker Out: about the big changes in their lives

Still good, sober boys

We’ll play this and then we’re off – to switch off

The time we have with them is tightly limited, but that’s appropriate for stars of their kind. They are the most popular musical group right now, and they’ve thoroughly conquered many hearts far beyond both Slovenian and Balkan borders. At sold-out concerts, Finns are swooning because of them, Poles, Serbians, Croatians and Spaniards are fainting, not to mention the girls back home. No one prepared them for this kind of craze, but they’re holding up pretty well – they’re still humble guys with good manners, which can (also) be seen in their polite greeting and relaxed chatting in front of their rehearsal space, a comfortable hideaway somewhere between Ljubljana’s warehouses with an unappealing blue door.

Floating into their sanctuary, you almost hit your head on a collection of hanging bras with various affectionate messages written on them. A few more steps, and we plop down on the couch with Bojan Cvjetićanin and Nace Jordan. Jan Peteh and Kris Guštin (damn, he’s tall!) are busy with another camera, and Jure Maček is nowhere to be seen.

How’s your health doing with your (as it seems if you look at the crazy number of concerts all around Europe) pretty exhausting life? How do you take care of your physical fitness?

Bojan: By working out.

Nace: Well, you and I work out, the others only do it a little.

Bojan: Well yeah, she asked us.

Nace: So: we work out a lot, we play badminton, I run, we go to the gym and hike, Bojan also does mixed martial arts.

You’ve found yourselves at a turbulent stage in your career, and like you’ve said before, you cannot be fully prepared for that. What about mental preparation? Do you have to pay extra attention to that or do anything you've never done before?

Bojan: Yes, we have to rest. We haven't had any rest ever since everything became much more intense. My mind and body are now really begging to switch off.

Nace: I agree. Just the other day, we were talking about how we haven’t truly rested since the pre-Eurovision performances. Two- and three-day trips don’t count.

So you’ll only be able to turn off for a bit, after your big concert in Stožice?

Bojan: That’s right. Well, we maybe planned our break a little poorly, because we’re going on a holiday together. (both start laughing loudly)

Nace: Everyone has the same stunned reaction that you did.

You really have to love each other and have a good time together, that’s all I thought. Can you reveal where you’re going?

Bojan: Far away, somewhere warm. As to whether us going together is smart, we’ll tell you when we come back. If we end up needing another holiday after this holiday, then we didn’t make a very wise decision.

Since you really hang out with each other so much, do you perhaps understand any better why some bands get into fatal quarrels or even break up?

Bojan: We definitely understand it a lot more. In a short time, I’ve realised that this rock and roll lifestyle presented to us by rock legends (myths, stories, Hollywood) is truly something that is untenable in the long term. If we look at all the most famous bands, they actually existed for a very short time.

Nace: And, as an interesting fact, most of them broke up while on tour.

Bojan: You can’t do rock and roll and be devoted to your music, concerts, travels, if you’re constantly under the influence of any substances (drugs, alcohol). You really can’t do that, because neither the human body nor the mind are made to withstand this kind of strain, sleeplessness, pleasure, dopamine. All those legends either died young or the bands broke up. Sure, they did a lot, left a permanent mark, but at what cost? We’ve realised that if we want to enjoy what we’re doing, we have to be sober, and you truly enjoy yourself a lot more if you’re sober and feel physically and mentally ready and cultivate friendships. I think that this way, we’ll remember a lot more after a few tours than many rock legends do in their longer careers. How much can you even remember if your brain isn’t even with you on the same stage?

I see that you’re drinking plenty of water, and we remember you, Bojan, from Eurovision, when you were walking around with a bottle of water and blowing into a straw. What was that for?

Bojan: It’s a technique to warm up your vocal chords, based on the principle of blowing into a slightly wider silicone straw in a water bottle. You blow into it, in the correct way and because of the water in the bottle, a negative pressure is created that puts your vocal chords into the most natural position and it works like a massage for them.

Did you discover this for yourself or was it recommended to you?

Bojan: I had never paid special attention to my voice before that, I’m not a trained vocalist, but luckily I naturally developed the correct technique. Otherwise I would’ve lost my voice long ago. So, on the stage, this mechanism luckily developed in a very positive direction for me, which was also confirmed by singing coaches and the doctor I went to for my vocal chords check-up. A phoniatrics specialist, a wonderful guy, helped me during Eurovision. Before the Eurovision performance, my voice gave in a little due to nerves, so I was constantly in contact with a doctor – and we didn’t even really know each other – who gave me advice over the phone. Then, at the first sound check, everything opened up and sounded like it should. It’s really interesting what happens with your voice, it gets incredibly affected by your mental state. Your vocal chords can be perfectly fine, but if your mind is not in the right place, your voice won’t work either.

I also went to get advice from singing coach Nataša Nahtigal, who really helped me a lot. I especially needed that preparation from a psychological point of view.

Did the other band members also need coaches for anything?

Nace: Me and Kris also visited Nataša, because at the beginning we thought that we’d be singing the backing vocals live on the Eurovision stage. So we also practised with her a few times. We also had rehearsals with a choreographer for the optimum stage performance.

We’re having this conversation five days before your biggest concert yet, in Stožice. Does that require any special preparation?

Bojan: It’s a special concert, because it’s the first time we’re encountering the organisation of something this big; it is, after all, the only arena in the country. It’s a lot for us, Magnifico also told us that he was kind of in the dark the first time, but now they’re acclimatised to it. It’s a different type of preparation: we have to prepare the show, the lights, the stage appearance …

Have you even internalised what you’ve managed to do, all the places and the number of people you’ve played to in the past few months (from Ireland to Great Britain, Finland, Norway, Belgrade, Zagreb, Vienna, and now in December, you've got Amsterdam, Madrid, Barcelona …)?

Bojan: I think that will be a task for the upcoming holiday. When things just keep happening, you’re in this cycle and don’t even really differentiate between one peak and another, so we need to come down a bit to start retroactively comprehending what really happened. Because it’s really wonderful. We were in cities and countries we’d never been to, and then we were there – to play our own sold-out concerts. We absolutely never thought anything like that would ever happen to us.

Nace: Often it’s only when I come home from this kind of tour that I think to myself: wow, look at where we were! We’re playing on a stage where world legends had played before us! Now, in the club in Helsinki, Foo Fighters and AC/DC had played there, among others. Any musician would wish to play there, let alone sell out that concert.

When you walk around these European cities where you have sold out your concerts, do people already recognise you on the street?

Bojan: It’s pretty bizarre, but now they’ve really started to. I think that on this Nordic tour there truly wasn’t any place we went to without at least someone recognising us – either on a train, on the street, in a restaurant, at the airport. Foreign fan culture is a little different, as they get prepared to meet us, in a way – for example, they know when we’ll be at the airport, and they wait for us with gifts, they don’t just come to take photos with us. They bring along our merch shirts, various things for us to sign, they give us gifts. Fans make a lot of things on their own – bracelets, dolls, there are a lot of drawings, crafts; I have two knitted Joker Out scarves at home.

Nace: In Finland we got a lot of knitted socks, hats …

Hand-knitted socks?

Bojan: Yes, with a Slovenian and Finnish flag, for example.

The Scandinavian youth are clearly well-versed in that.

Bojan: Let’s go, Slovenian youth, start knitting Joker Out stuff too! (laughter)

And what is it like to walk down the streets of Slovenia? Can you go to the store in peace?

Bojan: It’s nice to walk down the streets of Slovenia, but we truly always get recognised, that’s a fact, it’s not as inconvenient in stores as it can be when you’re out for drinks, when you constantly feel like someone is eavesdropping next to you.

How difficult is the rockstar life?

Bojan: It’s really nice – every time we’re on the stage, the audience rewards us with a really nice energy, you can’t compare that to anything else, but like any profession, ours has negative sides as well, with the biggest difference being that you’re constantly in the public eye. Very few things are truly personal – you also have a hard time judging for yourself what’s private and what’s not. It’s more of a mental game with yourself – that’s the hardest part of it all. As well as not sleeping, because you travel a lot.

Are there any big disappointments or unexpected things – perhaps that some fans get “carried away” or that not everyone is as well-intentioned as you thought?

Bojan: Absolutely! You suddenly find yourself not only belonging to a home crowd, but also becoming an internet hashtag. The internet has no limits, people have no reservations there, they hide behind a nickname. Each of us has definitely had a few of these moments that shocked us, that’s why we’ve started to pull back from social media.

That’s probably pretty tricky: for the sake of advertising and contact with fans, you have to be present on social media, but meanwhile you’re aware that you need to take a step back for the sake of your health. How do you stay on the safe side? What’s your strategy?

Nace: Primarily, we’ve all stopped reading Twitter, the comments … We have to maintain a certain distance.

Bojan: To be completely honest, I’d like to find someone who could handle my personal profile on social media. It also bothers me that you really waste a lot of time on social media and subconsciously create a lot of unrealistic expectations, because you’re constantly swiping through people’s perfect lives, faces and situations, it’s all quite absurd.

Do you want to influence teenagers in this area, to pass any important messages on to them?

Bojan: Yes, find some wonderful analogue way to follow us and delete your social media.

So, knit a Joker Out scarf or socks instead and listen to their music – that’s pretty analogue. Then, you can also do a charity auction of your fans’ knitwear.

Bojan: Exactly!

One small revolutionary move would also be if concerts or gigs at various parties started earlier. Us slightly more mature citizens also like to go to concerts, but we also like to go to bed a little earlier.

Bojan: I can say that after our Stožice concert, people will be able to be asleep by midnight. But actually, when we were abroad, we got used to gigs starting very soon – sometime between seven and nine in the evening – and the party is definitely not any worse because of that.

You say that you’re full of creative energy. Does your creative process continue under the covers too, do you have notebooks on your nightstand?

Bojan: All the ideas come to me just before I go to sleep. The most recent song Sunny Side of London also happened on the last day before we went to the studio – I couldn’t sleep and I came up with those base lyrics while in bed.

Even though your latest song is in English, due to most of your songs being in Slovenian, you’ve unintentionally become ambassadors of the Slovenian language as well.

Bojan: It was never our goal to become ambassadors of the Slovenian language, but we consciously decided to sing in Slovenian at Eurovision. It means a lot to us, and we hope that our fans will accept that we want to widen our listener base and that there will be some more songs in English because of that. I think that people all around Europe or even further singing twenty of our songs in Slovenian is already a lot, and shows that we’ve done our job. In the future, we’ll create in foreign languages a lot, but we’ll also stay loyal to Slovenian.

A lot of your TV appearances can be found translated to English on the internet. Is that your doing?

Bojan: No, the credit for that goes to a group of fans from all around the world called “Joker Out Subs”, who follow our videos and concerts and translate into quite a few global languages (recently even into Hebrew). They’ve already translated a huge amount of our content, and they do it voluntarily. They’ve also connected with each other in that way, and they’ve told us that 20 of our fans, who met online because of us, booked a house together for our concert in Amsterdam (in December). They’re all coming to the concert and they will stay there together.

Nace: A lot of people have connected like that because of us, which is very nice.

What’s it like at home? Is everything the same at home despite your stardom?

Bojan: Yes, it’s all the same – go mow the lawn!

Nace: I, for example, still drive my grandmother around to run her errands.

And your grandmother listens to your songs?

Nace: She’s definitely listened to some, but I doubt that she’s playing our entire discography. (laughter)

Bojan: Oooh, mine plays it every day, she goes through everything 150 times!

Have you made any changes to your menus?

Bojan: I’ve started eating vegetables – bowls (various healthy ingredients, served in one bowl), Nace got me into that.

Nace: Isn’t it nice to savour something together that’s healthy and that we all like? (Kris pipes up from the background, saying that Nace has gotten them all into Asian food.)

Translation of the captions on the photos:

1) The special friendship with Finnish Eurovision representative Käärijä continues. Together on Finnish stages in September.

2) Bojan loves Swedish girls, says the writing on his shirt.

Translation cr: Joker Out Subs

EDIT: to celebrate the JokerOutSubs shout-out, we prepared a giveaway for Tumblr! You can read more aboout it here!

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

TEMPORARY THINGS, chapter 3

Your first few weeks on set go by in a blur of learning the ropes. You follow Briony around a lot and listen to her use words you’ve never heard, like striking and dolly grip. You learn the difference between a first assistant camera and second, though it doesn’t seem to make much sense when Maggie points around nonchalantly and gets interrupted by a joke coming from the walkie-talkie on her hip. 

It was going well! Aside from whatever whirring now thumps in your chest when Brett comes up beside you. You’re still in good impression mode for another, like, 3 weeks.

“Hi,” he says, a smile and nod when you look up to see him. “Hopefully you’re liking this lot so far?”

“So far,” you nod, appreciative of his inquiry. “But I also heard it takes a few weeks for you all to turn into divas.”

He pulls a hand to his chest in mock offense. The jacket he’s wearing belongs to his character, but the color suits him well. “I usually wait until at least halfway through!”

“Hellooo,” Maggie sidles up and smiles at both of you. Jason’s right behind her and when the four of you stand in a make-shift circle, you’re acutely aware of the way Jason angles himself toward you. 

“We’ve got a lot to get through today--wanted to have you hear all of this as well,” Jason says this to you in particular before Maggie launches into some sort of schedule. She’s listing numbers and tasks and referencing scenes by shorthand lingo that only makes half sense. 

It’s weird, you realize, that while you’re here on set and working alongside them, your job is different in almost every way: it’s focused entirely on him. Which is maybe a bad thing, seeing as your stomach still does this little flip when you notice the dimple on his cheek that you remember from Day 1. 

Lucky for you, though, most of your time on set is spent in Jason’s office. Scheduling his travel and handling his emails and pulling the strings behind the scenes so his actual job here was easier. You’re in constant contact with his manager, his nanny, even sometimes seeing messages from his ex or his friends come through before you pass them right up the ladder.

Briony pops in and out, often passing messages from Jason to you and then in return. She was the coffee kid, still young enough to be excited by that type of task and good enough to never mess up an order.

Poppy hurries by and after you commit the entire shooting schedule of the day to memory, you return to Jason’s office to actually get your work done. Today, primarily, was to be spent going through emails and calendars, plugging in meetings and finalizing his schedule for the next two weeks before filming really picked up.

But there’s a knock on the door that grabs your attention before your inbox is even open. Brendan’s there, a binder in hand and a hesitant smile when you both realize you’ve never been alone in a room together. 

“Hi,” he says a bit awkwardly. “Y’know where Jason is?”

“He was with Paul and Jenna near Rebecca’s office,” you hoped you were getting the names right, blending real people with characters in the same way that didn’t trip up the rest of them. “Anything I can help with?”

He holds your gaze for a second, almost skeptical, but then decides he’ll at least give it a shot. 

“I’m looking for a list of scenes we’re shooting today. Not the actual schedule that got sent out but the list of ones Jason wants to do if we can move more quickly than everyone thinks we can.” 

You stand from your spot on the couch and nod thoughtfully, walking towards his desk as your eyes start to scan the piles of paper. You’ve learned his system bit by bit: the pile on the left is Lasso-related but not urgent. The pile on the right is more personal, with a higher level of urgency. Work-related urgent things get put on top of his laptop, or, if he seems to think it’s really important, sometimes he takes a picture of it and emails it to himself. 

As of now you find it mostly adorable that a guy in his mid-forties is sending himself emails with picture attachments so he doesn’t forget stuff. You’ll have to give him a crash course in the reminders app at some point.

You locate the piece of paper you saw him scribbling on yesterday, the red ink of the pen he clips into his pocket smudged in the corner. Today’s scenes are listed out in the same shorthand code you’ve heard Maggie use, Jason’s chicken scratch is in the margins in red ink.

You hold it up before you look back towards Brendan. His brows are arched when you take a step over and deliver, what you assume, is exactly what he was looking for. 

He scans it. Nods. 

“Three extra scenes sounds ambitious to me,” you try to crack a joke, feeling weird about the fact that you’ve yet to bond with Brendan. 

“You can read his handwriting?” He looks up at you again, more quickly this time, surprise on his face when you nod. 

“Yes--yeah,” you stammer like this is an embarrassing admission. “Should I not be able to?”

“Jessie always complained,” he shrugs, eyes back down to the piece of paper you’d handed over. 

“It’s messy as shit but I figured if I can’t read his handwriting then we’re all fucked.”

The corner of Brendan’s mouth flicks into a smile, a tiny laugh before he salutes you in farewell and his footsteps fade down the hallway.

**

April 2022

The end of March sputtered more rain onto the London streets than you’d ever seen in Los Angeles. Maggie promised it wouldn’t be like this the whole time, but now, on the third rainy Friday in a row, you were beginning to think your friend was a liar. 

“It’s bad luck,” Jason comments as he looks out the window into his backyard, “not bad weather.”

Thunder booms overhead and the British Airways website logo keeps flickering on the page, please be patient while we locate your booking!

“You’re beginning to sound like a London apologist,” you look up at him from your laptop screen, eyebrows arched to challenge his statement. The backyard gets lit up again, the line of trees overhead is visible in the flash of lightning that cracks open the sky.

He smirks at your retort, “forgive me for not wanting you to hate the place you agreed to move.”

His hands are in his pockets but he moves to sit on the couch across from you. You showed up 20-minutes ago, laptop in tow after he heard you mention something on set about your travel plans to Amsterdam. 

“London could have been on fire and I would still have come,” you think aloud as the page blinks back to life. “Okay, here,” you sit up. “Booking 1430-3925-098, business class to Schiphol.”

“Cancel it.”

“You’re sure?” You look up at him now, finger hovering over the trackpad. 

“Positive,” he stands and nods. “Red or white?”

“Hmm?”

You click the button, Yes, I’m Sure!, but then notice he’s waiting for you to reply. 

“Wine,” he laughs. “Red or white?”

You pause, is this a test? Is having a glass of wine with him on a Friday night in his living room crossing a line? No, you decide when he holds your gaze for a moment. If it wasn’t crossing a line with Kyle or Reese or any other boss you’ve had, it’s not crossing a line with him. 

And besides, he’s not your boss, technically. 

“Red.”

He smiles at your answer and makes his way towards the kitchen. “So why would a fiery London not be a deterrent?” 

You set your laptop on the coffee table, a few steps over to stand in the doorway as he pursues his wine rack.

“Sorry?” You’re confused now, still watching when he scans the label of a bottle before he sets it on the Island. 

It was a long week. You’d been on set every morning at 6:30am. Most days you left work around 4 or 5, and Jason was good about making sure you took lunch breaks and had enough coffee and knew all the good places to hide for five minutes of quiet when the set got too crowded. 

“You said London could have been on fire and you would have moved here still,” he reminds you, his eyes watching for your reaction as you lean against the door frame. 

You nod slowly and let your eyes flutter shut in embarrassment. What’s the most professional way to say: I got dumped and fired in the span of two weeks and my life felt like a living hell, so surely London ablaze would be manageable?

You decide there isn’t one, so you bend the truth as he searches for a wine opener. “I was in desperate need of a change of scenery.”

“Christmas in LA does suck,” he nods. 

“Luckily I didn’t have to withstand that torture,” you walk over to the drawer on his right, the one that Jessie’s binder said had miscellaneous kitchen tools and utensils. You open it and pull out an opener and hand it over. “I was in New York for the holidays, left LA right after Thanksgiving.”

He opens the bottle and nods sympathetically. “Something about December in LA always feels…depressing.”

“Yeah,” you let out a breath at that word, one that circled and swirled in your brain for days and weeks before you figured out what the fuck you were going to do. Your parents were worried and your sister was three-seconds and a text message away from booking a flight out there to beat the shit of your ex, as she so kindly offered.

He pours the first glass, stealing a peek in your direction when he thinks you aren’t looking. You are. 

“So--yeah, Los Angeles, change of scenery, back to New York. Now London.” He pours his own and then brings them both over, clinks his wine glass against yours before you both take a quiet sip in the kitchen. “What on earth made you take this job?”

You smirk, sure you can’t say what pops into your mind: a new city, a penchant for spontaneity after a crisis, the chance to work for your friend’s hot boss…

“Oh god,” he laughs, taking in your expression when your cheeks flush. “Did someone make you come here? Have you been kidnapped? Forced against your will?”

“No,” you roll your eyes at his playfulness and laugh. “I just--I really needed a job and a fresh start, I guess.”

He nods in understanding, takes another sip in the quiet. “Yeah, I get that.”

You’re not sure why it suddenly comes out, honest, blunt, a thud on the fancy tile of his kitchen. 

“My boyfriend and I broke up--we lived together--then my job kind of exploded, well, Kyle’s life did too, so, Maggie took pity, I guess, when she realized my life was a shit show.”

He’s a little caught off guard by your confession, his eyebrows are slightly lifted and you can’t read: is it curiosity or concern? Like, did I hire a psychopath concern. 

But that must not be it, because when you take a loud slurp of wine to drown out the awkward silence, he swallows and nods. 

“Just because it feels like a shit show doesn’t mean it is,” he offers, a small smile before he continues. “My fiancé of a decade left me for someone 15 years younger a few years ago and then decided to give a fuck ton of interviews about it,” he smirks. “So--I get the whole shit show feeling.”

Your lips pull into a smile at his show of humanity, but then he gestures for you to follow him back to the living room. You’d known about his failed relationship, saw headlines and heard murmurs but didn’t pay much mind. You didn’t think in a few years time you’d be drinking wine on his couch on a rainy Friday.

“And now you’re single?” He asks over his shoulder, more of a follow up on your recent disclosure than the flirtation you wish it was. He sits down and you watch the way his knees knock together in khakis. 

“First time in 6 years,” you say over the rim of your glass, returning to your spot on the sofa. 

He’s watching you, like you’re throwing him off somehow or he’s intrigued. You realize you like it.

And then you remember why you’re here, tonight, in the first place: Amsterdam. The location shoot for the temp gig. Your temp gig job. Your job, him sitting across the room from you as not the man who writes your checks but still the one who generates them. Your laptop on the coffee table pulls you back to reality. You should probably not flirt with him.

“It’s canceled,” you nod towards the computer and then lift your Apple Watch as proof. “Confirmation email came through a few minutes ago.”

He shakes his head but smiles. “I can’t believe you thought I’d make you fly business class if I’m on a jet!”

You remember Maggie’s words from January, facetime a thousand miles away. Something along the lines of he’s amazing, Y/N, he’s so chill!

“You’d be really disappointed to hear what it’s like to work for Tom Cruise, then.”

He laughs, shifts on the couch and takes another sip. “I think it’s really shitty when people treat their EAs like regular assistants,” he shrugs. “Here’s this person who manages your whole life…arguably that means you’re more competent than I am,” he thinks aloud, a playful glance in your direction. A compliment? Maybe. Flirting? You hope.

Is that shitty? Is that weird and inappropriate or—worst of all—are you fully delusional? 

“I’m going to pocket that for future reference,” you admit with a smirk. 

He sips his wine and smiles, eyes you seriously from behind the glasses he puts on at the end of the day. “Just…know from here on out that you can book yourself as nice of a hotel room as you want, you know, within reason.”

You let your eyes bug out of your head. “Reason, like, the Presidential Suite at a Ritz Carlton, or?”

“Jesus,” a short laugh escapes, a comedic hint of suspicion is his eyes after he checks a text on his phone. “Maggie wasn’t kidding when she said you’ve been primarily A-list.”

“I would never,” you call back, a quick confession to make sure he knows you’re not that type of…employee? Temp? Whatever.

“Great, but still--we’re there for work, but you deserve to enjoy Amsterdam,” he gestures toward your laptop, like the British Airways website itself was a symbol of the upcoming business trip. 

Maggie’s been excited for weeks. She babbled about it in the car on the way from Heathrow and Poppy’s been shouting out nightclubs and restaurants and places she wants to go most mornings in the makeup trailer. 

You’ve never been to Amsterdam, but you’re excited nonetheless for a chance to see a new city in a new country. The last time you and Maggie were in Europe together was on your study abroad trip when you were both 21. Now it’s ten years later.

She bounces in one April morning to Poppy’s trailer while you’re sipping a hot coffee. One from the catering table because the one you sipped on your way here wasn’t enough. 

“You’re exactly who I wanted to see,” her face lights up when she spots you in a chair beside Juno. 

“Good morning,” you coo, grateful that Poppy’s trailer has become a bit of reprieve for you. You were right, a few weeks ago when you went out for your first Friday in London: Maggie and Poppy are tight, Juno and Briony and Hannah and the rest of the make up crew seem to be their own little friend group within the larger cast and crew. Ladies who stuck together.

Luckily, you were beginning to feel like a part of it. 

“I’m thinking pubs and clubs,” she dumps a tote bag on the counter, contents spill out but Poppy doesn’t seem to mind. 

“What?”

“We need to start planning for Amsterdam, babe.”

“It’s a work trip, babe,” you remind her with narrowed eyes, a quick glance around the room to see if anyone else was aware of Maggie’s scheming. 

“Work trip, hah!” Juno pipes up from her chair. She’s got curlers in, eyes still sleepy since the sun’s just made it above the horizon. “Someone tell Y/N about Lasso work trips.”

“Work trips,” Poppy turns to see you--she’s getting a palette ready for Juno, all of her brushes and tubes of lip gloss are organized sociopathically by color, size, and brand. “Are only half work.”

A woman after your own heart, though the results of your organizing episodes usually only last a few weeks. 

“Half work? How does that…work?” You ask, thankful that you don’t have to get mascara swiped on your lashes before your eyes are fully open. 

“We shoot long days and we’re busy,” Maggie nods honestly, she’s strapping her walkie-talkie onto her waist, snaking the wire of her headset up and behind her ear. “But when work is over, it’s playtime.”

You watch your oldest friend closely. “Sounds oddly sexual,” you comment around another slurp of coffee. 

“It can be sexual if you want it to be,” Maggie wiggles her eyebrows now. “If you’re feeling up for getting down and dirty!”

Oh boy. You blink at her a few times, memories of your last trip to Europe come flooding back. Maggie writing your number on the bathroom stall of a club in Rome, encouragement at every hour of the day to get loose and get laid. Unfortunately for you, this trip might be oddly reminiscent. 

“Yeah?” This pique’s Juno’s interest. “Someone in need of a little hanky-panky?”

They all giggle, you choke down more coffee but wipe your mouth when there’s a knock on the door. It opens, the whole trailer goes quiet when Jason’s on the other side.

“Morning,” he nods, a few steps in before he slinks down to the chair next to Poppy with an amused smile. “You know the gossip’s good when it goes completely silent.”

“Not gossip,” Maggie locks eyes with you in the mirror and smirks. “Just some chatter about Y/N’s lack of a love life,” she smiles, an apologetic but excited one.

“I work more than I sleep,” you defend loud enough for the whole trailer to hear—-all six of you in there.

True. Until, about, six months ago.

“Lack?” Jason’s eyebrows are arched in the mirror.

You hope Maggie doesn’t see the way your cheeks flush, a moment where his eyes find yours in the reflection above Poppy’s drawers and drawers of makeup. You wish you could vanish into thin air.

How—in only a few weeks—does it feel like you and Jason are in on your own little secret? 

“This is only my second cup of coffee so why don’t we talk about Maggie’s childhood obsession with webkinz?” You propose, a loud slurp and a ghoulish look in her direction to show her you mean business.

You had just as many years of ammunition as she did. If embarrassing each other was the goal, you could at least play the game. 

“Weren’t you a bit old for that, babe?” Poppy asks with a teasing smile, fingers focused on the curlers in Juno’s hair. 

“I didn’t give a shit that I was 16 and still into it,” Maggie defends, a dismissive eye roll when she picks up her phone from the counter. “The heart wants what it wants.”

A dodged bullet, for sure. You’re able to excuse yourself shortly thereafter to make sure Jason’s got what he needs for the day. Briony did the check of his office, grabbed breakfast and delivered a bagel to the makeup trailer. Which means you’re free to move about in search of the people you need today.

Joan from the location department, Tom from Post-Production—Maggie said he’d be easy to find because he always wears hats but is impeccably bald. 

You get the write-up you need from Joan and that’s when Briony falls into step beside you. She shows you the way down the maze of halls and through the lot to an office where Tom sits at a desk. Once you’ve got what you need from him (a firm answer to a question of Jason’s he’s been dodging all week), Briony sits with you on the sidelines of a scene in the locker room. 

Jason, Phil, Brendan, and Brett are shooting, the set’s loud before someone calls for quiet. 

Briony silently breaks her granola bar in half and offers you some, Greg--who works in sound--offers you both a warning glare: I better not hear rubbish. 

So you munch quietly side by side, feeling somewhat mesmerized by the way that when the camera’s rolling, Jason and his scene partners feel like the only people in the room. The scripted jokes they’re cracking are so good, it makes you regret never finishing season 1. 

You don’t remember finding him nearly as attractive back then as you do now, sitting behind the cameras and the boom, a walkie-talkie on your own hip and a pit in your stomach when you realize this isn’t even a thought you should be having.

But you can’t help that warmth pools in your belly when he rolls up his sleeves or laughs from across the room. Okay, so, maybe this isn’t just jet lag. 

CUT!--the room buzzes back into motion, Maggie’s zipping around the set and shouts to Greg, can we start again at line 47? Poppy goes to powder Brendan’s forehead, Briony’s on her feet and then the whole thing starts again. 

That happens another three times before there’s actually a break. Props weren’t delivered on time and so a different scene is getting staged but it doesn’t mean much to you. You’ve checked your own inbox eight times today and Jason’s twelve. 

But today was quiet. Showing up and making a stellar impression in the first few weeks was definitely a good thing, but had you been…too productive? Had you accidentally fucked yourself over because now you’re sitting here looking like a moron because you didn’t have something to do?

You booked a zoo tour for him and his kids next month, finalized the rest of his schedule for this week, arranged his travel to see friends in Spain later this summer. You’d organized his home office last week, updated his business accounts spreadsheet and even managed to book him an appointment with an eye doctor after he told you it’d been three years (ridiculous). 

Jason walks up and says something to Greg, who’s pretending to give Briony shit about the granola bar. Briony’s smiling up at him like he’s just told her Christmas is coming early.

“Hey,” you greet Jason with a smile, hand him his cell phone that’s been tucked into the bum bag around your shoulders. 

“I saw the tickets to the zoo at Battersea Park--thanks for putting that together.”

You nod, glad you were able to come up with something he could do with his kids next weekend when they’d be in town. An advertisement on the tube is what led you to buying three tickets on a whim, just in case.

You smile and look to your left, for some reason nervous that someone will see how awkward you’re being and misread it. It doesn’t matter, though, because he reaches forward and his hand’s on your elbow in a way that makes your face feel warm. 

“I mean it,” he says, a nod to himself and to you, one that lets you know he’s touched by the gesture. 

“Yes, yeah, sure,” you nod like an idiot, immediately embarrassed by the way his touch leaves your mouth unable to form consonants or vowels.

“Jason, go talk to Mark about camera angles,” Maggie appears and slaps him on the shoulder, a smile on her face when she playfully barks the order. 

Phil’s hand is outstretched suddenly, a reminder that time on set moved faster than anywhere else. “Y/N, could you take a picture of me in this for my mum?” 

You accept the phone and snap a photo, Maggie’s answering a text and then gets tugged away by a PA.

You turn to face Jason when Phil walks away, you’re ready for a request or a task or anything. But he just holds your gaze for a second, a pleased smirk spreads across his face. 

“Anything I can get you?”

He shrugs, “I’m good.”

It dawns on you, right then, that he walked over here to talk to you. Well, maybe not you. Maybe you were just in his way. Maybe he was looking for someone else but he saw you and it reminded him to say thanks. 

But either way, right now it’s just you and Jason standing here and it feels good to think that maybe he just likes being around you. Maybe the smirk on his face is because he sees the way your brain is short-circuiting. Luckily, he pulls you out of your crisis. 

“Can you come to my trailer later, around 3? Before I have to help them shoot at Keeley’s office later? I can text you.”

You’re nodding and agreeing to it as you visualize your own calendar in your head. You’re supposed to get off at 4pm today, an evening to yourself and the idea of a glass of wine on the couch sounds especially nice now that you’ve realized your social skills are such shit. 

“Perfect, great,” he says. “Apparently I have to go talk to Mark.”

You nod, he nods, and then he turns to leave you by the huddle of sound guys handling wires and knobs. You meet him in his trailer and handle the emails and errands he needs, grab a tea on the way home and you’re in the door at 4:49pm--and that’s with afternoon traffic. 

London’s been sunny this week, you had wine with Maggie and Brett and Phil one night and you didn’t feel new. You felt normal.

Winter was fading into spring over the last ten days, it was starting to feel like you were your own little piece in the big puzzle you got thrown into. Brendan knew he could always count on you to laugh at his jokes--especially and specifically when they were aimed at Jason. Brett knows your childhood nickname and threatens to tell Phil every time you get dangerously close to calling him out for flirting with Maggie. 

You don’t always feel like a transplant anymore, you feel like someone who’s starting to have a place. A tiny one, maybe off in the corner, but still, a place.

And when you left Jason’s trailer that afternoon, you thought it’d be the last time you saw him. 

So, naturally, your eyes go wide when you find him beneath the light of your front door this evening. You’re in a sweatshirt and bike shorts, completely unprepared for company. 

“Hi!” he says quickly, almost like he’s startled by the opening of the door, like he didn’t know if you’d be home or expected someone else on the other side of the knob. There’s a smile on his face that mirrors yours almost immediately. “Hey, sorry—to just show up here, like this.”

“How do you know where I live?” You narrow your eyes, a teasing but confident tone. All that does is give him a cheerful smugness that you regret immediately, one that makes his eyes scan your face before he shrugs.

“I know I’m not your boss, but I’m, like, not not your boss at the same time.”

You hold back a laugh and watch him, “what a blurred and confusing boundary…”

He smiles, “Which, all I mean by that is that Maggie sent the listing to me when she found it, I’ve actually known where you live since before you lived here,” he admits casually.

“Got it,” you step aside and he comes in, shuts the door behind himself before he meets your eyes again. 

“How are you?” You ask, intrigued by his surprise visit but also not wanting to scare him off. You like the way he’s looking at you, your heart does a flip at the thought that he wants to be around you. Just like earlier today. Fuck.

“I’m good,” he says, you walk towards the kitchen and wave a bottle of wine in the air and he nods. “I got stuck late at work, I was walking and it started to rain.”

“You live like, two minutes from here…” you’re smiling despite the challenging statement, you grab a glass from an overhead cabinet.

He shrugs when he slinks into a barstool at your counter, apparently unfazed by your accusation when he comes off it easily: “yeah, I just wanted to say hi.”

You reach for a glass in the cupboard overhead and tease him over your shoulder. “Curious to see how Maggie allocated the living stipend?”

He sits up straighter now and plays into the bit, pushing his lips out in thought when he looks around your open concept kitchen and living room. “That and…”

He looks around the room again, his words hang in the air as he buys time. But his hair’s a mess and his watch isn’t on--so you know something’s up.

It clicks. He’s got something on his mind or something and he’s…trying to talk about it? To you? 

Men! Sheesh. You try to relax your forehead as you pour him a glass so your confusion and shock isn’t misread as displeasure. Realistically, you’re touched he feels comfortable enough and the thumping in your chest is a dead giveaway if he can hear it when you deliver the wine.

“Shit day?” You ask, watching as his fingers wrap around the step. He takes a sip and shrugs. 

“Yeah, shit day…shit month, shit year.”

You giggle into your own glass, take your first sip before nodding. “I know the feeling.”

“No, I shouldn’t--” he pauses and stumbles for a second, “I don’t mean to complain or sound like a dick.”

You shrug and offer a smirk. “You’re not a dick if you have a human emotion.”

He nods, watches the wine in his glass as a smirk crawls onto his face. He looks up at you. “My ex could argue that statement for two hours.”

“Could she?” You smile, nodding when you tell him: “I’m a pretty patient person.”

“Are you?” 

“I am,” you laugh, “I like to think so.”

He lets out a tiny laugh at your comment, quiet for a second before he lets out an exhale. “I’m just stressed, really. Being showrunner this season is harder than I thought and it’s not even hard, it’s just more than I’m used to.”

You nod immediately. That makes sense and you see the fatigue on his face. You’d heard Maggie talk about it before: long hours, late nights, location shoots, freezing days, rewrites and props changes. TV wasn’t easy and you were already aware of that, only a few weeks in.

“I get that—but I think it’s normal to notice the learning curve when you’re doing something new.” 

He nods, accepts it and holds his breath for a second. “Yeah, that’s…a good way to say it.”

He smiles at you softly, eyes coming up to meet yours quickly before he shrugs. “I know I’ll survive, it’s just—been a rough go of it, lately.” 

“So what’s your release?” You ask.

His brows furrow together and the crease in his forehead lights something up inside you.

He says it like this hasn’t occurred to him at all. “My release?”

“How are you dealing with your stress?” 

The confusion on his face turns into amusement when the corner of his mouth twitches toward your ceiling. 

“So, nothing?”

He laughs. “I hadn’t thought about—doing anything, really.”

“Men,” you roll your eyes, moving towards the couch with your wine in hand. “The wine’s a nice place to start, but certainly not enough.”

He makes a face for a second, like he’s judging himself or imagining the terrible things you must think about him now that you’ve heard his feelings, but he stands to follow and listens intently when you almost open up.

“When my boyfriend dumped me and Kyle let me go, I stayed in bed for a good…two weeks,” you admit, a grimace on your face because you know it makes you sound like a loser. “But then my sister suggested I go to a rage room and it was amazing.”

“A rage room?” He laughs. “One of those places where you just break shit?”

“Smashing a TV to pieces is surprisingly therapeutic,” you tell him seriously.

He thinks on it for a second, nodding like he’s giving it real thought when he plucks at his lower lip. You can see the smirk he’s fighting, a sip of wine when your eyes dare him to say whatever he’s thinking.

“You don’t have to tell me--”

“But,” you say at the same time as he says it. A flash of embarrassment on his face when you raise your brows, reading him like a book,  just spit it out. 

“Why’d you get fired?”

Right. You knew it would come up at some point and even if Jason wasn’t really your boss, he definitely had the right to be curious. 

“I only ask because I read her reference letter--she loves you.”

“She does love me,” you nod. “But she was having family issues and I wanted a raise and then I found out that her daughter was sleeping with my boyfriend.”

His lips form an ‘o’ involuntarily, the response you got from most people when they hear how the dominoes all fell at the same time.

“Yeah,” you shrug. “Fired might be a strong word, but, certainly how it felt.”

“Well, her loss,” he nods confidently. “I’ve seen the way you organized my desk drawers and it’s either witchcraft or psychoticism and I’m okay with either if it’s always this easy to find shit.”

“I’ll keep it up then,” you smile and take another sip. 

“Sorry to just…show up, by the way,” he looks down at his own glass in hand, “and drink your wine.”

You had been looking forward to a shower and a night of watching trashy reality TV (though now you’d sworn off all of the Real Housewives). Other than that, your night was likely to consist of facetiming your mom and plucking your eyebrows. 

Jason sitting at your counter with a smirk on his face didn’t bother you at all, but you certainly couldn’t tell him you were flattered that he came here.

You nodded to let him know it was no nuisance. “I’m always up for a glass of wine and talking you off the ledge.”

“That shouldn’t be part of your job description, though.”

“Do you know how many times I listened to Kyle complain about her friends or had to send gift baskets to them after fights?”

“I’m guessing a lot?”

“You venting about work stress is a walk in the park,” you reassure.

“Well, I’m glad,” he says solemnly, a moment when he holds your eyes and you feel your cheeks get warm. 

You clear your throat, don’t be stupid, and force out a joke to act like whatever moment this was wasn’t problematic or weird or worse, enticing.

“So unless you have a daughter that will sleep with my boyfriend, we’re probably good.”

“My daughter’s seven,” a beat when he shrugs a single shoulder. “And you don’t have a boyfriend.”

You take a loud slurp from your wine--partly for comedic effect and party out of your own awkwardness--and smirk over the rim to match his. “Right.”

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AN: WOW! HI! It's been a hot minute. I'm so glad to be posting this chappie and so appreciative of everyone's patience as my life evolves and writing has taken up a smaller portion of my time. I would love love love to hear what you think of this chapter and the story so far, I've been writing a lot the last few days as feb turns into march and I'm excited to share more!!!!

taglist: @babysugar02 @daydreamgoddess14 @endlessblasphemy @hart-kinsella @shanefilan @bookoffracturedghosts @cavillsim @the-fanfic-fangirl @tegan8314

[irb-pascalito-99]

Date Night

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary: My younger sister Ellie and Joel’s daughter Sarah go on a school trip for the weekend, leaving Joel and I alone for the first time since we started seeing each other in secret.

Warnings: SMUT, oral f!receiving, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, breaking furniture

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter thirteen of my a03 fic Always an Angel, Never a God. For more chapters on this pairing please go to a03.

I turn in the bed and attempt to push Joel to wake him up. He grumbles and pulls me closer to him. I push him again and whisper his name.

“Joel! Get up, it’s almost 8:30. We overslept!” Joel looks up at the alarm clock as well. When it starts to sink in he jumps up and starts shoving his clothes back on.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I guess I forgot to set an alarm.” I wrap myself in a robe and start gathering Joel’s things off the floor.

We’ve been trying to be more careful since the night of Ellie’s nightmare. We’ve started spending less time together so I can start focusing on Ellie more.

Her grades have continued to make an improvement, and we’ve been getting along great. She often comes to draw in the art studio while I paint. We’ve been setting an actual routine.

I still have no idea whether or not she’s having more nightmares. Sometimes at night I wait in the hallway trying to listen to any noises of distress, but I haven’t heard anything. I got her in to see a therapist once a week, hoping that even if she isn’t talking to me about it, maybe she’ll talk to someone. She seemed apprehensive to the idea at first, but she seems to really be opening up to her now.

I text Joel throughout the week, but we keep our visits to weekends only now, something that makes the time we do have together seem more precious and finite. Desperate touches linger as long as possible, while we wait in each other’s beds as long as we can.

He was not supposed to come over on a Thursday night, but after the day he had at work he begged to see me. We surprised Ellie with a Sarah sleepover and waited to sneak Joel back in until after the girls were asleep. He was not supposed to spend the entire night, but at some point gentle caresses turned to sleepy eyes which turned to dreams.

Now, Joel walks as quickly as he can down the stairs without making too much noise. I hurry after him, making glances up to the top of the stairs to ensure one of the girls didn’t come out of Ellie’s room. We make our way toward the front door, but just as his hand reaches for the handle we hear noises in the kitchen.

“Dad?” Sarah asks as she rounds the corner. My heart leaps in my chest while I turn around. Did she see him come down the stairs?

“Hey! Good morning!” Joel says cheerily. He glances at me quickly and then moves to Sarah. “Just came to pick you guys up for school.”

If Sarah finds it strange, she doesn’t say anything. She hugs her dad tight and drags him into the kitchen. He looks at me over his shoulder and motions for me to follow.

Inside the kitchen Ellie and Sarah are making breakfast. There are ingredients all over the counter, which are a disaster, and the smell of eggs wafts through the air.

“We need to make some for dad too!” Sarah says to Ellie who uses a spatula to push the eggs around the pan. Sarah makes her dad sit at the kitchen table and looks at me to do the same.

Joel and I sit awkwardly while we wait for the girls to finish cooking, not wanting to seem suspicious. When the eggs are done Ellie brings plates over for us containing scrambled eggs and toast. Sarah walks over with two big glasses of orange juice. Joel makes a face when she puts his juice down on the table in front of him but forces himself to drink it anyway.

His knee brushes mine as the four of us eat breakfast. The girls didn’t do too bad considering their lack of experience with cooking. Out of the corner of my eye I watch Joel take a piece of eggshell out of his mouth.

“Did you bring my bag?” Sarah asks Joel as we finish eating.

“Bag?” Joel asks with his mouth full. Sarah rolls her eyes and looks at Ellie.

“For the trip…” Joel furrows his brows in confusion for a moment, dropping his fork and muttering to himself when he remembers. “Dad!”

Joel clears the table in a hurry and looks at his watch. He rushes the girls to grab their things so they can go.

“We’ll pick it up on the way,” he says. I hand Ellie her bag as they start to head out the door. Sarah and Ellie while Joel waits in the doorway. “They’ll be gone for a whole weekend…”

He has a mischievous look spread across his face as he stands beside the front door. He closed the door almost fully, so the girls can’t see the two of us. I laugh and shake my head. The girls are headed on a class trip this weekend, leaving both Joel and I child-free for the first time since we started whatever this is.

“I’ll see you soon then,” I chuckle.

“Tonight? I can come over here after work. I’ll stay the whole weekend if you’ll let me” I bite my lip as I grin at the thought of how eager he is to see me again.

I nod and he glances a look at the girls through the crack in the door before quickly pulling me in for a kiss. We’re both smiling like idiots when he leaves.

—

It’s hard to focus the rest of the day. There are several times either Frank or Bill had to say my name until I snapped out of whatever weekend daydream I had followed out of reality. It doesn’t help that Joel kept me up so late last night as well. I try to tell them that I’m just tired, but I can tell neither of them believe me.

I ended up having to stay a little later than I hoped due to a reconstruction project I needed to get finished before the weekend set in, so I quickly shoot Joel a text.

Me: Hey, things are running late at the shop. Looks like I’m going to be another hour, but the key is under the doormat if you want to let yourself in :)

Joel: Sounds good! Also, doormat? We gotta fix that, anybody could find it there and just walk in…

I giggle at his protectiveness and put my phone away again. Nearly two hours later I’m finally pulling into the driveway of my home. Joel’s truck is parked in the garage in case Maria or Tommy drive by. Butterflies dance in my stomach as I walk up to the front door.

I don’t see any lights on when I walk up the front steps, but there’s a faint flicker between the blinds. I open the front door slowly, the smell of freshly cooked food emanating from the kitchen the second I do. The floor between the kitchen and front door is covered in rose petals and the walkway between the two is surrounded by tiny little tea lights.

I feel my face flush as I make my way down the path, pausing for a second to put my keys in the bowl Joel made me. When I get to the kitchen I find Joel at the table, plating something he had just pulled off a pan. He looks at me with the biggest smile on his face and places the empty pan in the sink.

“Hey darlin,” he says as he makes his way over to me and presses his lips to mine.

The table is also set up nicely, with a red tablecloth spread across it that Joel must have either brought from home or bought today. There’s a bouquet of flowers in a vase set in the middle and flower petals sprinkled across the surface as well. There are even petals sprinkled across the kitchen island along with more tea lights to help illuminate the kitchen. Two taper candles sit beside the vase on the table and he’s set two plates of food across from each other with what looks like steak and scallops on top.

“What?” I ask, looking between the table and him. He grabs my hand and kisses the top of it.

“I know we can’t really go on an actual date because we’re keeping this thing secret, but I thought you deserved something special.” He says.

There’s a twinkle in his eye as he watches my reaction. I’m not sure how to respond. I feel the emotions well up in my eyes as I take it all in. This is by far the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, and there’s a part of me that wonders if I deserve it. I’m the one forcing us to keep this a secret. I’m the reason we can’t be a real couple. I push those emotions down and blink a couple of times to keep the tears at bay.

“Thank you,” I say. I kiss him again, slowly. It isn’t like the rushed passionate kisses we normally exchange in a rush to have each other before the time runs out. Something deeper lingers in this one, a shared emotion exchanging between the two of us despite the fact that neither of us are ready to say it out loud. It floats in the open air as we pull away. “Give me one second.”

Joel looks confused when I turn back toward the stairs and rush off. I quickly run up to my bedroom and search for something else to wear, something more deserving of this occasion.

I pick out an olive green satin dress with little flowers embroidered on it from the back of my closet. When I put it on I ditch my bra and pick out a pair of my sexier underwear. I make sure to throw my work clothes in the laundry hamper in my closet and I take my hair out of the braid it’s been in all day as well, letting the waves settle down my shoulders before I head back down the stairs.

Joel watches with wide eyes as I make my slow descent. I have to fight a giggle from escaping my lips when his jaw literally drops as I move into full view of him. His hands immediately find my hips when I’m within reach of him and his eyes roam over my figure once more.

“God damn,” he mutters under his breath. My cheeks warm again.

I pull from his grasp enough to do a little twirl so he can see the whole dress. When I turn around I hear a sharp intake of breath from him before he grabs my hips again to pull my body against his. He immediately buries his face in my neck, kissing up the side of it as he pulls my hips flush with his. I lose myself in it for a second, allowing myself to melt against him as he bites down on my neck and grinds against me.

“Joel,” I say breathily. I remember the dinner on the table in front of us and grab his hand as it attempts to roam down my thigh. “Joel, stop, dinner.”

“Screw dinner,” Joel groans and runs his tongue over the last place he nipped on my neck.

I laugh at his eagerness to suddenly ditch the meal he spent all this effort setting up. It’s tempting to cave, to follow our desires and let him take me right here. Even though we just spent last night together, I still can’t get enough of him. He leans in to kiss my neck again and I twist away.

“Okay now, hands to yourself. I want my date mister.” Joel sighs and puts his hands in his pockets.

“Whatever she wants,” he says. He flashes me a grin again.

He makes his way to one of the chairs and pulls it out for me. He pushes it in after I sit down, then grabs the uncorked bottle of wine from the middle of the table. I watch him pour a glass for me before making his way to his chair. He pours himself a glass too. After he pours his glass he lifts it in the air.

“To our weekend in paradise,” he says, reaching across the table to grab my hand. I squeeze his hand and smile.

“To our weekend in paradise,” I repeat and clink my glass against his. We each take a sip, refusing to let go of each other’s hands until we eventually have to in order to cut the steak.

Despite the fact that this technically is our first date, it feels more like we’ve settled into a domestic routine. We don’t make the typical small talk where you ask about each other’s lives or hobbies. Instead he asks about the shop and my restoration project. He tells me how excited the girls were for their trip. We hold hands whenever we can and I see him stealing glances of me through the corner of my eyes as I tell him a story about Bill’s heated exchange with a customer today.

When he’s done eating Joel patiently waits for me to finish. He stares at me like I’m the only thing worth seeing. I fidget self consciously under his gaze.

“What?” I ask, finishing my food and bringing my wine to my lips to take another sip. Joel grins and shrugs.

“You’re just so beautiful,” he responds. My face warms again as I put my glass down. I keep my eyes on the candle wax that’s begun to drip onto the tablecloth.

Joel rubs circles on the back of my hand for a moment and then gets up. He turns on some music in the background. He takes a couple of the empty dishes from the table, moving them to the sink. I finish my glass of wine and get up to help him clear the table but when he turns to see me with dishes in my hand he almost looks offended.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” He asks, taking the dishes out of my hand. He places them in the sink while I look at him confused.

“I’m helping clean up,” I respond, grabbing the two candles from the table and blowing them out. He grabs my wrists once I’ve placed them on the kitchen island and pulls my chest to his.

“Your only job right now is to stand there and look pretty. Let me take care of you.” I roll my eyes at him. The constant argument between us coming up yet again, his insistence that I sit back and let him take care of me. It’s annoyingly predictable at this point.

I sigh and wrap my arms around his shoulders. He smiles, thinking he won the argument. I lean my head against his chest as he wraps his arms around my waist. Neither of us said anything about dancing, but we slowly find ourselves saying to the music. He grabs one of my hands from his neck and twirls me slowly in a circle.

When he pulls me back to him his hands grip my back as he dips me. He leans down and brushes his lips against my clavicle while my hair fans out below me. He presses soft kisses down my chest, stopping just above the hem of my dress. He notices then, my lack of a bra and groans, pulling me back up to stand. Joel takes a step back, his eyes darkened with last.

“Show me,” he says. I slowly move my hands to the straps around my neck. I pull the tie until it loosens, keeping my eyes on Joel’s as I let the dress fall to the floor around me. He licks his lips and lunges forward the second it hits the floor.

One of his hands grips my neck as he kisses me passionately while the other squeezes my butt. He walks me backward until my hips bump into the kitchen table. I let out a moan when his lips leave mine to pull one of my nipples into his mouth instead. His fingers pull me impossibly closer as mine roam across his shoulders.

He lets go of my nipple with a pop and moves on to the other. My hand moves down his chest as he does so, fighting to undo the buttons of his shirt. I finally manage to get his shirt open as he pulls away. Joel’s eyes rake over my figure, consuming me as the candlelight flickers behind him.

“You’re so damn gorgeous baby, like a piece of fuckin’ art,” I giggle and he pushes me back, laying me out on the kitchen table.

It creaks under the pressure of my body laying on top of it. I almost ask him to get me down, but I forget the words as he starts kissing down my breasts and stomach. He stops at the waistband of my underwear. I whimper and tug at his hair in anticipation. He pulls my panties down my legs, his hands running down my skin gently, and shoves them in the pocket of his jeans.

He gets down on his knees in front of me, pulling me to the edge of the table and hanging my legs over his shoulders. I prop myself up on my elbows to watch as he dives into my dripping core. His tongue laps hungrily at my folds. I throw my head back in pleasure, biting my lip as my body begins to shake. He grips my thighs tightly as he sucks on my clit.

“Fuck baby, you like that?” I whimper and nod my head. His lips twist into a smile before he thrusts his tongue inside me, curling it and pulling me closer to him. His nose bumps my clit sending shockwaves through my body.

I’m so close already. I pull at his hair while the coil builds, whimpering and shaking as I get closer and closer to the edge. He takes one of his hands from my thighs and sinks two fingers into my heat, immediately curling them to hit the sensitive spot inside me. I moan and shift on the table which creaks again.

My breaths are coming out in short pants as he continues working me up. He thrusts his fingers harder, lapping at my folds with more fervor as my body teeters on the edge. I look down to see him peering up at me with hungry eyes, watching my every reaction as though in worship. The look in his eyes is what pushes me over the edge.

My hips buck into him and I pull his hair as my orgasm crashes over me. He continues his pace, allowing me to ride out my climax for as long as possible. When the pleasure turns to sensitivity I push his shoulders away. He cleans my folds gently with his tongue in my aftershocks and places gentle kisses up my thighs before raising himself from the floor.

His shirt still hangs across his shoulders, the front completely unbuttoned to expose his bare chest. I move my hands up his chest as he stands between my knees and kisses me softly. My hands linger further down as he deepens the kiss, his tongue moving against mine as I unbuckle his belt. I shove his pants down his thighs and he helps push them down to the floor and off to the side.

He moans into my mouth as my hand brushes against his bulge on the outside of his boxers. I trace the outline of it with my finger and feel him shiver against me. I reach in and pull his cock out, pumping it a couple times in my hand. He pulls away from my lips and rests his forehead against mine as his breathing gets more shallow. He lets me play with it for a second, and then pulls his boxers off as well. His chest heaves as he watches me position his tip at my entrance.

“Fuck sweetheart, just like that.” He groans and then begins to push in. I moan quietly at the stretch of it. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the size. He pulls me further onto his cock with one hand on my hip as the other grips the back of my neck. “That’s it darlin’ let me in. Takin’ it so well.”

I moan again, one hand grasping the back of his neck. The other is tangled in the tablecloth underneath me as he pushes the rest of the way in. I bite my lip to stifle my sounds while he waits for me to adjust. He scans my face with his eyes and moves the hand on my neck to my jaw, brushing my lip with his thumb.

“It’s okay baby, nobody’s here. You can be as loud as you want.” He reminds me.

We’re completely alone, for a whole weekend. No taking care of anyone. No worrying about washing the girls up. No hiding for either of us. I had forgotten what it felt like to be free from that kind of responsibility.

He slowly pulls out and then slams back into me. I let out a high pitched moan as he continues to pound into me, my hand on the table gripping the tablecloth desperately. He sets his pace hard and fast, groaning each time he pushes in.

The table shifts with each thrust, creaking as it does, but I couldn’t care less at this point. Joel leans his face into my chest and kisses my breasts. My hand leaves the tablecloth to grip his shirt instead.

“That’s it baby, let me hear you sweet girl. Let me hear those sounds you make.” Joel says against my skin. I moan louder and pull him closer. He starts to thrust even harder.

I feel my next orgasm building in my core. I clench around him and he moans out as well. He kisses up my neck, leaning his forehead against mine as I get closer.

“Don’t stop. It feels so good. Joel! Please don’t stop.” He grins at me as he keeps his pace.

“Wouldn’t dream of it sweetheart. Fuck! You feel so good.” I slip my hands under his shirt to scratch at his back as I teeter on the edge of my climax.

The only sounds in the room are our shared moans and the increasingly loud creaks of the table as it thumps with each thrust. Joel plus his forehead away from mine to look over my figure, his eyes settling on where our hips join. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer. He groans and thrusts harder. The table groans as well and then crashes to the ground, sending Joel and I to the floor with it.

“Shit,” Joel says when we hit the ground, but he doesn’t stop.

I should be more concerned about my broken kitchen table, but all I can think of right now is how good this feels. I lay down, my hair fanning out across the messy table cloth and flower petals.

“Fuck, I’m so close.” I moan. Joel moves his hand to my folds, his thumb being to circle my clit.

“That’s it baby, let go. Come for me. Come on babygirl.” I moan so loud I’m sure the neighbors can hear as my second climax crashes over me. He pulses inside me as I clench around him, staving off his own orgasm until mine subsides.

As I come down he sloppily thrusts into me a couple more times and then pulls out, ropes of come splattering against my thighs and lower stomach. He groans as he lets go and then collapses on top of me.

We both pant as we come down. My hands start to play with his curls as he rests his weight against me. After several minutes he rolls over slightly so I can breathe better, but keeps his head on my chest. The coarse hairs of his beard tickle as he breathes in and out.

“I made chocolate strawberries for dessert,” he says and I laugh loudly. He chuckles as well, running his hand down my side absentmindedly.

“What about the table?” I ask. Joel looks at the broken piece of furniture beneath us as if just now noticing it and shrugs.

“I can fix it,” he responds. “Was a piece of shit anyway if it broke just from that.”

I giggle and pat his head. He looks at me confused and I run my finger across the line between his brows.

“I can fix it, was a piece of shit anyway,” I say, mocking his tone. He rolls his eyes and presses his cheek against my chest again. “I didn’t know you could build tables.”

“I’m a contractor,” he mumbles as he presses a kiss to the side of my breast. I suppose he has a point in that he literally builds houses for a living, but I figured furniture would be different than that. “Plus I do some woodworking as a hobby.”

“You do woodworking?” Joel nods. “Like what? Building furniture and stuff?”

I tilt my head down to look at him as he draws patterns on my skin with his finger. Joel shrugs and I shake my head.

“Sometimes I make little figurines. Started when Sarah was little and it just kinda stuck.” I kiss the top of his head, rubbing my hands down his muscular arms.

“I’d like to see that sometime.” I say.

We stay laying on the kitchen floor for a little while longer until Joel starts to complain about his back aching. He helps me stand up and glances over my body again. I’m still covered in remnants of him.

“Let’s clean you up darlin’,” he takes my hand and leads me upstairs.

[theladyofdeath]

Better or Worse {19}

Nessian. Angst. Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

A/N: Two more chapters! Thank you all for sticking along for the journey. Enjoy!

The weeks have passed by quickly and in less than twenty four hours I’ll be standing at the altar with my husband, renewing our vows.

Throwing a ceremony together so quickly has been exhausting, especially considering my book released last week, but I’ve actually enjoyed the chaos. My sisters have helped tremendously, even in the moments that I’ve insisted that I didn’t need their help. Nonetheless, tomorrow's success will go to them. We’ve all worked hard as hell, which is why the three of us are currently dressed in our finest and sitting on the rooftop of one of Velaris’ most prestigious restaurants. 

While Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand are surely at some shithole bar, the three of us decided on a little class in celebration of tomorrow.

As the server fills our glasses and leaves the remainder of the bottle of wine in an ice-filled chiller, Feyre raises her glass in a salute. “I know toasts usually come at the end of the night, but we’ve never been the most conventional bunch. Nes, you and Cassian have been the pillar of strength for our group for so long. When shit gets hard, the two of you are the ones to step up and handle it. Your marriage is no different. Things may have gotten rough for a bit—” I roll my eyes at her understatement, but can’t pull the smile from my lips if I try. “But you didn’t let that break the two of you, you didn’t let that tear you apart like so many others would have. You never gave up on your love, on each other, and I’m so glad we get to celebrate that tomorrow.”

I clear my throat to push away the flood of emotion and we clink our glasses together. “Thank you. But the real toast should be for the two of you because if I had to plan this damn thing alone, I would have died.”

They laugh but it’s no joke.

I think it may have killed me.

Although tonight is supposed to be all fun and games, we go over our checklist one last time. We’ll have to get to the venue early tomorrow and finish decorating, but it shouldn’t be too bad.

“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” I ask, fiddling with the stem of my wine glass. “I mean, we’re already married, but this feels different.”

“I don’t think it's weird,” Elain says, cheeks already pink from the wine. “I think it’s nice. It just means that it means a lot to you.”

“I bet Cass is just as nervous,” Feyre says, chiming in. “And just wait until he sees you in your dress. I’ve never seen anything so sexy and elegant in my life.”

I grin. I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t been dreaming about Cassian's reaction when he sees the dress I bought. “Having to make it through the entire ceremony and reception is going to be torture for him, and I can’t wait.”

“Sadist,” Feyre mumbles, and Elain chokes on her last drop of wine.

She’s not wrong. The sheath of lace fits me like a second skin, the only ornamentation the occasional pattern of intricate beading and the sweetheart neckline dips just low enough to be alluring without being obscene. The lingerie I’ll be wearing beneath it is another story entirely.

Reaching for the bottle, I refill each of our glasses, setting it down at the edge of the table when it’s empty. “Listen, if he isn’t feral by the time we get home, something has gone horribly wrong.”

Home, because we aren’t going on a second honeymoon. We aren’t taking a trip or going anywhere, that’s not what this renewal was about. Sure, we’re having the ceremony and the party afterwards, but it’s to celebrate us.

Home, because there’s nowhere else we’d rather go and no one else we’d rather be with.

The food is earth shattering. By the time we’re done eating, I’m so full that I can hardly move. Cassian will be jealous that I ate so luxuriously without him, but it was too delicious for me to care. I feel a slight buzz from the wine, but nothing too daunting. I feel carefree and completely excited. 

With our empty plates in front of us, Elain asks, “Any news on the adoption front? You haven’t mentioned it in a couple of weeks.”

“We have a meeting with an agency set up for next week, actually,” I say, almost hesitantly, which earns two sets of worried glances in my direction. I shake my head. “I just kinda wanted to see how it went before mentioning it, I guess. I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”

Mine included. I have learned through my struggles with infertility that nothing is to be expected.

Elain reaches over and squeezes my hand. “We only want to be there for you. We’re here with you both on this journey, Nesta.”

Knowing that was the point of telling our family about our past struggles, I nod. “I know, and we've been talking a lot about it for the last couple of weeks, Cass and I. I’m getting…excited.”

The agency we’ve been in touch with works mostly with young, unwed mothers in Velaris who aren’t ready for a child. They know that there are loving families, like us, who would do anything to find that missing piece and they help connect the mothers and families. There’s no guarantee we’d meet the mother, as some women opt for closed adoptions, but we don’t care either way.

We haven’t even been approved to work with the agency yet, so I try not to get ahead of myself.

“We’re meeting with them at their office and if that goes well, we’ll have a home visit a few days after that.”

“A home visit?” Feyre asks, eyebrows rising. “That seems a bit quick.”

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t be,” I reply, swirling the wine in my glass. “This is to see if we even get accepted into the program. I’m sure there are going to be plenty of things we run into in this process that are frustrating, but it’s all going to be worth it in the end.”

“I think it’s beautiful that you want to adopt,” Elain says, eyes misty once again from those mom-of-infant hormones. 

We leave soon after and take a walk around the city before I’m back in my car, driving home. I love spending time with my sisters and I’m thankful for all that they’ve done, but I can’t wait to get home, can’t wait to get in bed. The sooner I’m home, the sooner I’m asleep, the sooner tomorrow will be here. 

Once I’m home, the house is dark and quiet. Greg is sprawled out on the couch and hardly stirs as I pass him to head upstairs. I’m not sure what time Cassian will be home but hopefully it isn’t too late. If he’s drinking, which I have no doubt he is, he needs time to sleep it off before the morning.

We’re not twenty-one anymore.

I sneak a peek in my office where my dress is hanging on full display so that the wrinkles are all out. Cass has been banned from this room and he’s done very good at avoiding it like the plague. He won’t be seeing me in this beauty until tomorrow. 

After I shower, I throw on one of my favorite t-shirts, one of Cassian’s, and brush my teeth and hair before sinking into bed. I just open my newest read when the front door opens and closes. It’s not long after when I hear a bang, clatter, Greg’s pissed off noise, and Cassian’s string of filthiest curses.

Maybe I should’ve left a light on.

I hear noises from the kitchen, noises that sound suspiciously like pots and pans being pulled out. I wait, listening, my book open on my lap, waiting for him to come to bed. Then I hear the microwave open and close.

Sighing, I throw the blankets back and head downstairs, making sure he hears me as I descend into the living room.

I hear a cabinet slam followed by another barked curse. Entering the kitchen, I lean a hip against the table and cross my arms, taking in the carnage around me.

The perks of having a chef for a husband: he makes delicious food for every anniversary, birthday, party, you name it.

The cons of having a chef for a husband: he makes questionable food when he’s drunk.

There’s a pot on the stove, pasta boiling away, while a pan filled with an unknown brown sauce simmers nearby. His trusty colander is already in the sink, waiting to be used, while he’s on his hands and knees, digging through the cabinets, looking for something. The microwave beeps, letting us know its contents are ready to be removed. He doesn’t even hear it.

I cross my arms and wait, thinking he’ll realize I’m here eventually. After another minute, listening to the microwave beep as it reminds us it’s done, I ask, “What are you looking for?”

A loud thump carries through the kitchen as Cassian bangs his head on the underside of the shelf he was searching through. He scrambles backward, which is honestly comical, before getting to his feet and facing me.

He freezes as his eyes rove over my body, taking in the t-shirt and the fact that I’m wearing nothing underneath it. “Mother’s tits, you’re so fucking hot. I’m the luckiest bastard on the planet.”

I smirk, welcoming the praise, but just then the microwave beeps again and he gasps. “Cheese toast.”

Blinking, I wait, making sure I heard him right.

Sure enough, he pulls a plate out of the microwave, consisting of two pieces of sandwich bread with cheese melted over it.

“Hungry?” I ask, chuckling as he tears into the cheese toast.

“Carbs,” he replies around a mouth full of cheese and bread, pointing a flailing arm at the pasta boiling on the stove, as if that explains it all. “Need carbs so I’m not hungover tomorrow.”

“You know another way not to be hungover?” I tease, sauntering over to him. “Don't drink your weight in liquor.”

“Baby, if I drank my weight in liquor I’d be dead,” he says, shoving the rest of the toast that’s not really toast in his mouth. “Have you seen me? I’m gigantic.” 

“Mhmm.” I’m close enough to him now that I brush his hair out of his face. “Where did those idiots take you?”

“The bar.”

I laugh, quietly. “I can tell that much. Which one?”

“Rita’s,” he croons. “They told her I’m renewing my vows tomorrow, and she gave us a free round of shots…multiple…multiple free rounds of shots.”

“Explains the whiskey on your breath,” I chuckle. “Well, I’m glad you had fun. Eat your noodles and come to bed.”

“You’re not staying?” He frowns. “Stay. Eat.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s after midnight. I’m old. I’m tired.”

“You’re not old, you’re…sexy in my shirt.” He grabs the old, thinned fabric and pulls me back towards him, but before he can make his move, the water boils over on the stove.

The words that come out of this man…I married a sailor. 

Despite being three sheets to the wind, Cassian is able to clean up quickly and salvage his meal. He plates his pasta and pours his sauce over it, which is a mix of barbecue sauce, honey, and orange marmalade, and smells much better than it has a right to. Just as I’m about to head upstairs, I pause to drop a kiss to the top of his head, telling him to hurry up, but his arms snake around my waist, pulling me down into his lap.

“Stay with me,” he grumbles, pressing his lips to my neck. “Please?”

“Eight o’clock is going to come super early,” I grumble, leaning back into his embrace.

With his free arm, he twirls the pasta on a fork and takes a big bite. “Sure as fuck is.”

We stay like that until he finishes eating, clearing his plate. I stand to take it to the sink, but as soon as I’m on my feet, he’s sweeping me into his arms.

It’s romantic, but with how much he’s had to drink, likely ill-advised.

“You better not fall down the stairs while you’re carrying me,” I threaten as he heads up to our room.

For a moment, he wavers, but just as I gasp he starts to laugh and straightens himself.

“Just kidding.”

I smack him on the arm which only seems to bring him more joy as he reaches the second floor landing and pads down the hall and into our room. He doesn’t drop me on the bed but brings me into the bathroom with him instead. He sets me on the vanity before pulling his shirt over his head and taking off his belt, giving me one hell of a show.

He knows I’m watching and he loves it, both of us shameless. 

After brushing his teeth and washing up, he kicks off the remainder of his jeans and scoops me up, yet again.

“Your hair is still a mess,” I grumble, my lips pressing against his shoulder.

“Sexy mess or disgusting mess?” He asks, and now that the alcohol is beginning to wear off, I can tell he’s exhausted. 

“Somewhere in the middle,” I say, and he chuckles as he lays me down in bed and crawls up behind me, wrapping me in his arms.

His body is warm, safe, my own personal haven. I don’t even think he realizes it, don’t even think he knows the magnitude of what his arms around me brings. I melt into him and close my eyes, sighing contentedly.

“Remember the night before our wedding?” He whispers into the darkness.

Laughing softly, I nod. “Yes, but I’m surprised you do.”

If I thought Cassian was drunk now, it was nothing compared to the state he was in when showed up on my doorstep at three in the morning. More specifically, the doorstep of my father’s house, where I was staying with my sisters that night. Feyre and Elain were both still in high school and I was never the best at making friends, so rather than going out and getting drunk the night before I got married, I hung out at home with my sisters.

Cassian, on the other hand, hung out with his brothers in our brand new apartment off campus and got trashed, thanks to one of the older guys in his fraternity buying them whatever they wanted as a wedding gift.

Rhys and Az had passed out in the living room and Cass decided it would be a good idea to come see me. So he called a cab and then he was there, drunk and stumbling and making so much noise that I’m sure my father heard him sneaking in. We fell asleep, just like this, in each other’s arms, just like we did every night. We didn’t care about any old wives tales about staying apart the night before. We wanted to be together, so that's what we did.

My father was not thrilled the next morning when he woke up and found Cassian sitting at the breakfast table.

“Dad was pissed.” I can’t help but laugh. “I knew without a doubt at that moment that I was making the right decision, marrying you.”

He hums. “Were you doubting it before my drunken escapade?”

“No,” I say, and run my fingers across the arm that’s slung around my waist. “But that just proved my feelings right. Validation.” 

He kisses the back of my neck. “I didn’t think I could love you more than I did back then. Didn’t think it was possible. But I do. I love you more now than I did then, and I’ll love you more tomorrow than I do today.”

I swallow as my eyes line with tears. “Save it for your vows.”

He huffs a laugh. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. My vows are way more romantic than that.”

I can’t wait to hear them, can’t wait to stand with him hand in hand and celebrate our marriage after all that we have overcome. As I drift off into a deep sleep, I once again know, without a doubt, that Cassian is my one and only, the other half of my soul, my lifelong partner and my best friend. 

I don’t know what I did to be this damn lucky.

[britany1997]

Dancing King

It’s the way I was so mad at myself for accidentally posting this when I meant to save it as a draft😭

Ofc I can do this for you bestie!!!! Hope you have an amazing birthday! And I usually do make these pretty personal so it’ll be tailored to you:) (which means that while I usually write the TLB boys to be turned in their 20s, David and Star will have been turned at 17 for the purpose of this fic)

David x Webs & Star x Webs (he/they pronouns used) @gothamslostboy

You and your girlfriend were free spirits, the kind of people who could never sit still. Whenever a song came on, the two of you couldn’t help your feet from tapping and your bodies from swaying. You and Star could dance the entire night away.

The two of you frequented dance clubs, parties, beach bonfires, concerts, anywhere you could move your feet.

You always brought your boyfriend along too, there was just one problem.

David didn’t dance.

In all the time you’d been dating him, the most you’d get was a nod of his head or a small sway of his shoulders.

When you would grab Star’s hand and take the floor, David would give you a small wave from his place at the bar, watching, but never joining.

Your happy place may have been under a spotlight, his was on a barstool with a glass of whiskey.

You promised him it didn’t bother you, and for the most part that was true. You liked that David was a little different than you and Star, he grounded you.

But sometimes, you’d wonder what it would be like to see David let go and move to the music. You imagined taking his hand in yours, pressing your chest against his and swaying together.

But David didn’t dance so you were satisfied to keep that dream to yourself.

You stumbled towards the entrance to the cave excitedly, almost tripping over you own feet in your rush to see your partners.

Your friends had done an amazing job at making you feel special all day, but the night was for Star and David. They’d promised you they’d put together a surprise you’d “absolutely love.”

“Don’t be nervous, it’s gonna mean so much to him, he’ll love it,” you heard Star’s reassuring words as you shimmied down the ladder.

“I’ll love what?” you asked as you strolled into the cave’s main alcove.

“Baby!” Star exclaimed as she ran up to engulf you in a tight hug. You laughed as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her in close.

“Happy birthday handsome,” David said with a smirk as he came up behind the two of you.

“My turn?” he asked Star.

She sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes but smiling as she pulled away, “I guesssss.”

You pulled David into your chest and kissed his cheek.

“Hey!” Your head snapped to see Star with her hands on her hips, though a joking smile played on her lips, “I didn’t get a kiss!”

Your lips turned up into a bright smile, “I’ve got kisses for everyone,” you promised as you pressed your lips to her cheek.

When the kissing, blushing and giggling died down, you put your hands up “ok, ok, what’s this surprise I’ve been hearing about?”

Star turned to David, “you wanna tell them?”

David smiled softly, “you go ahead,” he said as he pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her.

Star beamed before pulling three tickets out of the envelope. “Platinum ABBA is playing at the boardwalk tonight, and we’ve got tickets at the barricade!”

You gasped, Platinum ABBA was the best ABBA cover band. You were touched by their thoughtful gift, tears began to well in the corners of your eyes.

“Thank you both, I- I love it,” you gushed as you wrapped an arm around each of them and pulled them in for a hug.

“We knew you would,” Star smiled as she squeezed your side.

After awhile David pulled back, “alright alright, enough with the touchy feely stuff, we’ve gotta get going.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes as David ushered you both out of the cave. Your smile turned to a smirk when his hand slid into yours.

Though your spots at the front were a little tight, the venue was big enough and Platinum ABBA was niche enough that you still had ample dancing room.

As the band began to play Chiquitita, you and Star swayed to the beat, twirling and twisting around. David watched the two of you laugh and swing with admiration. Though dancing wasn’t really his thing, he loved to see you happy.

Each song was the same, you and Star totally lost in the music, and David observing nearby.

Until the last song of the night.

A smile stretched across your face as you heard the familiar intro to Dancing Queen. Before you could take Star’s hands in yours, David offered you his.

You gasped as you looked up to see his flushed face. “May I uh,” he cleared his throat, “may I have this dance.”

Your heart melted. “Of course,” you told him as you laced your fingers with his. The two of you swayed somewhat awkwardly through the first verse, while Star clapped to the beat in encouragement.

When the chorus hit, all three of you clasped hands and spun around together, singing along to the words of the song.

You are the dancing “KING,” Star and David yelled with you over the sound of the music.

Young and free only seventeen

Dancing “KING,”

Feel the beat from the tambourine…

You heart felt full as you shouted the lyrics and swayed until your voice had evaporated and your feet felt as if they could fall right off.

When the concert ended, the three of you walked back to David’s bike.

“Thought you didn’t dance,” you teased.

David chuckled, “for you? I’d do anything.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across your face.

“So,” Star began, as she rested her head on your shoulder, “what do you think? Good birthday?”

You smirked, “I’m having the time of my life.”

Birthday Request Taglist🎂:

@6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @ria-coolgirl @crustyboypix @flower-crowned-lady @bloodywickedvamp @anna1306

[bengiyo]

The Eighth Sense Eps 9 & 10 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

So we’ve come to the end of the road with this show. I’m sure, like I Told Sunset About You and I Promised You The Moon, this one will stick with me. It’s been a fun ride, and I’ve enjoyed meeting new people because of it.

Last time, we processed the aftermath of Ji Hyun’s near-death experience on the ill-advised surfing trip. The seniors from the surfing club were absolutely horrible about it, and were completely insensitive. Jae Won has retreated completely within himself and is barely interacting with anyone, except to beat Tae-hyung’s ass for talking shit about Ji Hyun.

Meanwhile, Ji Hyun is absolutely radiant after recovering and is in his confident era. He’s handing out L’s left and right. No one is safe! Jae Won has been avoiding Ji Hyun, but Ji Hyun came through for him in the disciplinary hearing and handed Tae-hyung yet another petty defeat. Ji Hyun then forced Jae Won to talk to him, only for Jae Won to disappoint all of us for trying to shove Ji Hyun away.

Episode 9

I am glad this therapist is being direct with Jae Won. I don’t know if that’s proper or not, but he needs to have his head yanked out of his ass on this.

I’m glad Ji Hyun has friends to talk with. They’re also forcing him to see beyond himself and interrogate why Jae Won is being so weird. They even came up with a plan of action!

For Yoon Won’s sake, I hope they manage to save the surf club.

Jae Won’s tired eyes are making me feel exhausted too. I love Ji Hyun’s determination to comfort, even if Jae Won instinctively pulls back at first.

I get Yoon Won trying to save the surfing club as something she can accomplish. Unfortunately, Ji Hyun and Jae Won are not going to out themselves to the university. Still, I’m glad Jae Won isn’t so out of it that he can’t comfort this friend.

Eun Ji declared war on Ji Hyun and came to win. Making out with Jae Won in front of Ji Hyun is a bold strategy. Let’s see how it pays off for her.

I’m deeming Eun Ji only partially successful. She may have driven a wedge further between our leads, but she did not succeed at getting Jae Won in bed. Jae Won sent her home so he could yearn outside of the bar Ji Hyun works at. A victory for the homos.

I am back to being a Joon Pyo fan. He’s been working overtime to keep Ji Hyun’s life intact and is still out here locating secret Instagram accounts.

I liked the time passage montage of Jae Won at school, though I don’t know why he’s showing more signs of life.

The camera gift along with the sketch was so touching.

Eun Ji is a liar who lies, and I’m proud of Jae Won for crushing her.

I love the Boss. Jae Won needs a firm kick to get out of his own head sometimes, and I love her straightforward nature.

I’m so glad a radio song request gets to play a role in this story. Hilariously, they chose Conan Gray’s “The Story,” which, I am too polite on Tumblr to elaborate on further.

This isn’t a Japanese BL, so Jae Won isn’t going to run across the city, but we know where he’s going.

Okay! They just went for it with that kiss! Love the enthusiasm, boys!

Episode 10 (Finale)

I always lose it a little bit for yin and yang imagery with the boys. So glad these two finally spent a comfortable night together.

Of course Jae Won left without a message and has his phone off.

Oh good, he was just with Joon Pyo. We should definitely take Joon Pyo out clubbing. He’s done enough for us at this point.

Oh, the classic tropes! Love when the older boy puts his jacket on the love interest.

I’m happy, too! This is the final episode and we’ve been in angst for three previous ones! We are going to make it clear! We are dating! This is new!

Great, the phone is ringing. Time to spoil the moment.

Whew, never mind. Yoon Won might be getting a job and the surfing club is active again.

I love gay people. “Admit you joined the surf club for me.” “Oh yeah? Admit you had a lighter the whole time.”

Ae Ri. She gets a plate.

Whyy are Eun Ji and Tae Hyung at this party??

Male friendships are so embarrassing sometimes. Petty threats into stilted apologies into something strangely earnest. Men were definitely involved in the writing of this project.

I’m glad Ae Ri will keep teasing Ji Hyun.

Bit Na handed Tae Hyung one more loss before the end. Good.

That’s right Yoon Won. Jae Won needs to know his true friends support his love life.

We chatted a bit about the forgiveness in the clown server, and I will say that I don’t mind Jae Won forgiving Tae Hyung and Eun Ji. It provides closure for all of them, and he can focus on the people that matter in his life now. Besides, celebrations are a chance to let go of things.

GOOD FOR YOON WON AND JOON PYO! GET. IT. IN.

I do like them having the question about who knows and who is allowed to know.

TIME FOR JI HYUN TO GLOAT TO EUN JI!

Look at Eun Ji also trying to be a proper senior for once. I still think she should apologize to Ae Ri, but we can’t get everything.

“Don’t just treat me as cute. You don’t know what’s coming.” YES INDEED, BABY BOY!!

Final Verdict: 9.5, Highly Recommended. This was a fantastic collaboration between a German director and Korean director. I think everyone gives incredibly accessible performances that convey the complex ideas within the story. Much is allowed to be shown rather than said, and conversations unfold naturally. I also think this show captured the experience gap between graduating seniors and freshmen really well. This show brought out a lot of familiar feelings for me in a gentle way. I think it’s one of the best things I’ve seen this year. 

[thatsadbietch]

The Legend of the Glowering White Grimmsnarl

Crow's Tickletober Days 3 (full moon), 9 (payback for a scare), 18 (camping), AND 28 (woods/forest)

Warning: Tickle fic! And mild cursing.

After a long day of adventuring, you and Arven settle in for the night. Rather than the comfort of your dorm room, however, he takes you camping and shares some interesting folklore.

————-

“There! All set!” Arven stated proudly, having finished pitching the tent, your and his sleeping quarters for the evening.

“You know, we probably could have made it back to the dorms before dark,” you mentioned, “so we wouldn’t have had to camp out here all night.” 

“Even so,” Arven replied, crossing his arms, as if he were disappointed in you saying such a thing, “now we can cook over an open flame, which will always make food taste better!”

“Did it have to be in Tagtree Thicket though? At dusk?” You looked around the forest and noted how dark it was getting already, the trees no help as their leaves and branches shielded much of the sunlight from the ground below them.

“Aw, you scared, little buddy?” Arven cooed, half-teasing, half-concerned, messing your hair.  You never asked him to fill this big brother type role, he just kind of inserted himself there: always making sure your team was healed after Titan battles, feeding Miradon, looking out for you in general while never losing sight of his own mission.

“N-no!” You swatted his hand away, “I just know the Mimikyu and Impidimps come out more at night.” Arven released Mabosstiff, as he usually does when you two took time to rest.

“We’ve fought nearly all the Titan pokemon, we’ll be fine! And besides, it’s your first time camping out here, yeah? I plan on giving you the full experience!” You rolled your eyes, kneeling down to build and start a proper campfire… giving up shortly after rubbing sticks together and seeing no sparks.  You ended up releasing your Armarouge and asking it to help light the fire.

“Thanks, Armarouge.  Since you’re out already, do you want to enjoy the full experience of camping with us?” you asked, with air quotes.  The pokemon nodded curtly and sat close to you.  It was familiar with Arven from fighting alongside his team in Titan battles and enjoyed his and Mabosstiff’s company. Arven chuckled at your sass.

“Just wait.  Now that there’s finally a fire going, I can start cooking!”  You noted Arven pulling out his supplies, though it didn’t look like he was preparing sandwiches this time.  You watched him retrieve a small pot and rice from his bag, along with several other ingredients and spices. He was too zoned-in on his craft to notice your confusion, so you merely watched him work.  He didn’t use measuring utensils, but was still meticulous about which ingredients and how much he used, his concentration not faltering once.

“I wonder if his face will freeze like that,” you commented out loud, mostly to yourself, but your Armarouge heard and seemed to be amused.

“Aaaand, done!” Arven announced, presenting to you and Armarouge with a bowl of curry before sitting down across from you with his own and Mabosstiff’s serving.

“Not your usual, Arven,” you pointed out, blowing on a spoonful to cool it off.

“Yeah, I went outside the box for your first camping trip.  You’re welcome, little buddy.” Arven mused, clearly proud of himself. “Curry is super popular in the Galar region.  If they can do it, so can I.” And he did it well, as he usually did with all things cooking.  You’d never tasted a meal of his that you didn’t enjoy.

“You REALLY outdid yourself this time, Arven. I might not be able to go back to sandwiches after this,” you teased, and Armarouge murmured in agreement.

“Don’t get too used to it, some of these ingredients are from Galar, and they weren’t cheap. But you’ve helped us out a lot so… I’m happy to.” Your teasing smirk turned to a genuine smile, looking at your friend and his companion pokemon.  While Mabossiff was still in no shape to battle, he was leaps and bounds better than when you first met him.

Arven looked up toward the sky and grinned.  “How fitting, the moon is full.  You know what that means, don’t you?” You and Armarouge set your empty bowls down and looked at Arven quizzically.  

“I guess not. Well, I promised the full experience, and no camping trip would be complete without telling you the Legend of the Glowering White Grimmsnarl.” 

You couldn’t help yourself: you burst in cackles. “Thahat sounds ridiculous!”

“I’m serious!”

“Okhahay, okay, please enlighten us,” you settled, nudging your Armarouge that was making breathy sounds that could be interpreted as chuckles.

“With pleasure,” he began, his stoic demeanor on the subject only weakening your ability to keep a straight face.

“The legend tells of a Morgrem, shunned by its fellow Morgrem and Impidimps for having white hair instead of black.  Its white hair was so bright, even at night, that it was always seen by both predator and prey, making hunting difficult and risking the safety of its herd.  One day, it was chased out of its herd, forced to wander Tagtree Thicket all on its own.”

Your chortles and looks of amusement faded, letting yourself be immersed in the story.  Armarouge placed a protective hand on your shoulder and scanned the forest around you.

“The Morgrem fended for itself pretty well, considering the odds against it.  That is, until one night, there was a huge, bright, full moon, a lot like this one, actually.”  You looked up, and even through the trees you could tell the moon was at its full glory, and seemed huge in the sky.  

“The moonlight was so brilliant that night, that the Morgrem’s hair appeared to radiate with it.  But it had no more food in its shelter, and had to go looking for more.  That’s when a gang of Spidops ambushed it.” You felt yourself scoot closer to your Armarouge.

“It was no match for the horde of Spidops, not by itself.  And just when it thought it couldn’t take anymore, a huge glow enveloped the entire thicket.  The neighboring town’s residents at the time swore it was as bright as daylight in the middle of the night.  Turns out, it was the Morgrem, evolving into the biggest, strongest, and nastiest snow-white Grimmsnarl ever known.  Not only did it fight off the Spidops, it found its old herd and drove them completely out of the thicket in a terrifying rage, along with any other pokemon that got in its way.  So from then on, the Grimmsnarl’s white hair was no longer a give-away, but a warning to the pokemon and trainers that wander in the forest.  Especially when the moon is full, since it's said that’s where it draws its unfathomable strength. And, if somehow you miss its brilliant white hair in the moonlight, there is no mistaking its guttural, earth-shattering cry…”

“GRRROOOOAAAAARRR!”

You latched onto Armarouge and elicited a frightened, piercing scream, while Armarouge, holding you steady with one arm, readied the other one to defend against what it thought was going to be a gigantic white Grimmsnarl.  However, after a beat you heard Arven breaking into hysterics, and opened your eyes to see not a gigantic white Grimmsnarl, but a Toedscruel.  More specifically, Arven’s Toedscruel, walking back to his trainer, making a deep chuckling sound along the way.

“ARVEN! YOU SCARED THE HELL OUT OF US!”  He almost didn’t hear your scolding over his own laughter.

“Ithihihit was sohohoho gohohohod! Youho should hahave seen your fahahace!” You huffed, feeling your face flush.

“Aww, come ohohon, little buddy,” he said, starting to calm down, returning Toedscruel to its pokeball, “Scary stories are camping staples! And the moon is full, I couldn’t waste a perfect opportunity!” You sighed as your heart rate returned to a normal pace.

“Okay, okay, you had your fun, I’ll take your apology now,” you spat, still in a pout. Arven, seeing this, chuckled again.

“I’m not apologizing, it was a story! That’s what you do when you go camping!” You glared at him, knowing he meant no harm, and was just having a laugh at your expense.  Well, if it's a laugh he wanted…

“Don’t make me make you apologize, Arven!”

“Oooh, I’m soooo scared,” Arven mocked, “What are you gonna do, call the white Grimmsnarl on me?”

“I don’t need the white Grimmsnarl,” you stated, “I have Armarouge.”  You looked past Arven, who was confused for a moment before your ever-loyal pokemon grabbed his arms and pinned them behind him.  Arven jumped, obviously never noticing Armarouge creep over, and tried to stand and break its grip, but Armarouge wasn’t one of your strongest team members for nothing.  

You stood and strode over menacingly, fingers taking the form of claws.  Arven seemed to get it now, and struggled a bit more spastically.

“N-now little buddy, let’s not be hasty, it was all in fun, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, it certainly was, we liked your story for sure, right Armarouge?” 

“Ar, mar,” it replied, tightening its grip on Arven.  You reached Arven and placed your “claws” on Arven’s already shaking belly, an involuntary smile starting to form across his features.

“But if it was a laugh you wanted, you could have just asked.”

“Th-that’s nohohot what I said- hehehehe, nohohoho lihihittle buddy!” He giggled, as you wasted no time gently scribbling and skittering your fingers along the young chef’s midsection, a yelp escaping after you slipped a hand under his shirt to reach his bare belly.

“Wahahahait, nohohoho!” Arven gasped, still trying to free himself from Armarouge’s grip.  You looked up to your companion pokemon, and could tell it was just as amused as you were.

“Should a cook’s stomach be so sensitive?” You teased, watching your friend’s reactions, and still futile attempts to keep his composure. “You’d think a cook would need a hardened stomach, since you eat all kinds of different food.” At that, you skittered in and around Arven’s belly button, to which his laughter positively boomed and kicked his legs out, almost kicking you.

“LIHIHIHITTLE BUDDEEEHEHEHE! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE!” He thrashed, but Armarouge held firm, even when Arven’s head was thrown back against its chest in ticklish agony.

“Not where, heeeere?” You dragged, wiggling a finger in his belly button while your other hand still scurried up and down his sides.

“NAHAHAHAHA, DOHOHOHON’T! BWAHAHAHA!” If there were smaller, curious pokemon close by, Arven’s boisterous laughter probably scared them off.  

“Shhh! Arven! The Glowering White Grimmsnarl will hear you!” You continued to torment, backing off of his weakest point to instead test another spot against your ticklish grip, suddenly squeezing the tops of his knees. His booming laugher calmed to a bubbly cackle, which was honestly quite adorable.  

Now that you thought about it, you had only just recently begun to see Arven smile, due to the hopefulness he had for his companion.  Oh, Mabosstiff! You turned and realized he was watching the whole interaction, tail wagging in approval.  Arven followed your gaze to his dear friend.

“Mahahahabosstiff! Dohohoho somethihihing!” And, at his trainer’s command, he did get up to do something.  That something being nuzzling his snout in Arven’s ribs.

“NOHOHOT WHAT I MEANT! MAHAHAHABOSSTIFF, NOHOHO!”

“I think he likes seeing your smile! You don’t do it enough, you know,” you “scolded,” and Mabosstiff offered a “rrrruff” in Arven’s underarm as if to agree.  This only deepened the blush on Arven’s face as his giggling somehow got more bubbly and boy-like, almost making you forget that he was actually your upperclassman.

“TRAHAHAHAITOR! BOHOHOTH OF YOU!” he sputtered, not trying too hard to escape Armarouge’s grip anymore, whether out of giving in or exhaustion, Armarouge couldn’t tell.

“Aaar, ma,” it said, in a tone you recognized as one of concern.  You waved at Mabosstiff, getting his attention and ceasing his attack on his master’s ribs and underarms.  Arven caught his breath as Armarouge continued to hold him for support.

“Are you good, Arven? I’ll take this over an apology any day,” you jested, Arven chuckling now of his own accord.

“You got me pretty good, little buddy, I’ll give you that. I’m okay, now, Armarouge. You can let go.  I would thank you, except you’re also to blame.” Armarouge made that same breathy sound from earlier, recognized as a laugh, and walked back in your direction.  Arven hunched over and rested one of his elbows on his knees, catching his breath. He had the other hand on Mabosstiff, patting the top of his head.  He stood after a moment and looked at you, chuckling again and shaking his head.

“I’m going to bed.  A monster worse than the white Grimmsnarl got to me.  You’ll get yours, little buddy, you’ll see.”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say.  I think I like this camping thing, but I’ll turn in, too.  Maybe you can tell another story?”

“NO!”

[lithiumcreepblog]

Steve Harrington & Jonathan Byers’

The Great American Road Trip

Day 1. 07/21/1993. Chicago, IL to St. Louis, MO.

Day 1: Jonathan and I are on the Route 66. Finally. We have been planning this trip for a while, and we’re going from Chicago to Santa Monica the whole way through, then visiting Argyle. I’ve been wanting to go on a cross country road trip for a long time, so it’s great that we get to go now. We stopped by a vendor at the pier first and got some sunglasses for the road. Jonathan said I’m too obsessed with sunglasses. I don’t think so though. It’s not my fault I look incredibly cool in them. He looks really good in them too, not that he’ll ever admit it. He wouldn’t let me take a picture of him with two sunglasses on at the same time, but he looked pretty silly. We drove for a few hours to Springfield where we stopped for a quick lunch at a diner. Actually, Jonathan drove and I provided meaningful commentary the whole way. Jonathan also won’t stop filming everything he sees with his video camera… he’s making a film later of our trip. Robin told me I should keep a journal too, write down stuff I find interesting along the way. Which I saw a lot of. One of which is this big statue called The Gemini Giant in Wilmington. He had an astronaut helmet that looks more like a mask for welding, but it was pretty cool. My favorite stop of the day was the detour to the old brick road which is part of the original stretch of the Route. We’re already out of Illinois and made it to St. Louis even with all our stops. But it was already dark when we arrived so we’ll have to see the Arch tomorrow. I’m absolutely wiped because I took over the driving role after Springfield, but today was more fun than I even imagined.

“Do you really have to record everything?”

“Oh yes, this is very important. We’re capturing the essence of Americana… gorging yourself on a hamburger with bacon. Pure American decadence.”

“Give me that, I’m not being the only one with my mouth open on camera.”

“Alright, alright. Here you go, get a shot of our milkshakes together.”

“So, Jonathan. Tell the camera, how have I been as a road trip companion so far?”

“Hmm, very distracting.”

“What? I’m offended.”

“Don’t look at me like a kicked puppy, I mean it in a good way. I’ve just never seen you this lively or taken with anything, that’s all. This is about fulfilling your dream as much as it is about mine. It is like being a kid all over again, isn’t it? Going places we’ve never been before and seeing new things. It’s just hard to focus on the road when your eyes are lighting up beside me with every weird landmark we pass.”

“Nice save there, Jon. I am glad we get to do this together. It’s already some of the most fun I’ve had, and you are a great partner to go on a road trip with.”

“Likewise, Steve. I can’t believe we’ve never done this before.”

“And why don’t you give us something from that book of yours as parting words for anyone who might be seeing this?”

“I don’t think we’ll be showing this to anyone but sure… let’s see… okay, here. ‘What is that feeling when you’re driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing?—It’s the too-huge world vaulting us, and it’s good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.’”

“Alright… I think I understood what that means… now, back on the road!”

Steve & Jonathan listen to this on repeat for about 5 times before they both grow tired of it. Steve then wonders if there are any other songs about Route 66 to which Jonathan goes on a 15 minute long lecture about the origin of the song, from Nat King Cole to the other renditions. Steve listens with a fond smile as Jonathan becomes more animated behind the wheel, and plays the tape again just for the fun of it.

Souvenirs obtained: one fridge magnet that says Route 66 Illinois for Joyce, one miniature car to put on Steve’s shelf, one postcard set for the memories.

[taintedevesayori]

Sayo's Route: Maniac Prologue

Sayo's Route Masterlist

Monologue

It was finally the weekend, and I was up bright and early.  The sun was shining bright as I snuck out of the house.  It had been about two months or so since the last time I had done this. I had forgotten how nice it felt to be outside during the day.  After making sure I wasn’t being followed, I made my way to the bus stop so I could make the short trip to the next town over…my hometown.  It didn’t take very long to get to my stop, and soon I was making my way through a familiar neighborhood, my heart fluttering with anticipation.

-Sayo knocks on the door of a house she’s been to more times than she can count. Within seconds, a girl with short ginger hair flings the door open

Kisa: Sayo!

-Kisa flings her arms around Sayo, squeezing her tight. Sayo’s other friends-Lei, Emi, and Rena-all rush to the door, joining in on the hug

Sayo: I’ve missed you guys so much!

-There’s an echo of agreement as Sayo enters Kisa’s home. She follows her friends down to the basement, where they all used to frequently hang out

(It’s hard to even contact my friends now…I have to use pay phones in town and am always watching to make sure I’m not being followed by one of the brothers.)

(I arranged this meeting with Lei over the phone one of the few times I managed to slip away from Laito. I knew it was risky to contact her, but with everything going on, this needed to happen…)

Lei: How long can you be gone, Sayo?

Sayo: The brothers sleep until evening. I left a note saying I left to study at the library if any of them happened to wake up early and went looking for me. 

Lei: Should we talk about the serious stuff first to get it out of the way then? That way, we can spend as much time as possible hanging out until you have to go?

Emi: I think that sounds reasonable.

Sayo: Well then…what’s the status on Plan Escape Shitty Marriage?

Rena: Fufu…I’ll never be over that name.

(It’s such a silly name for my escape plan, but Rena came up with it when I told everyone about the fact I’m supposed to be a potential bride for the Sakamakis, so there’s no way I can change it.)

Kisa: Haha…It is pretty great.

Lei: Still plan on one to two months from now. My aunt is still working everything out, but she’ll have a room ready for you. All you’ll have to do is help out.

Sayo: Perfect. I can stick it out a little longer. 

Rena: You’re going to be so far away~ Why can’t you just move back here and stay with one of us?

Sayo: I’ve told you, those guys are crazy. They’ll hunt me down for sure. Being far away is for the best. 

Lei: You’re dramatic, Rena. Sure, it’s far, but we’ve gone to visit my aunt before. Now we’ll have a reason to go visit more often. 

Emi: It is very pretty out there. You’ll be surrounded by beautiful nature every day, Sayo.

Sayo: Exactly. It will be much better than where I am now. I’ll be able to get a phone, so I can call and text you guys whenever I want, and you guys can actually come visit when you have time off.

Kisa: See? It’s not so bad! We’ll go spend our entire summers with you, Sayo!

Emi: Yes!

Sayo: Fufu…That sounds perfect to me. I can’t wait.

Rena: Alright, alright, I’m sold. Guess it isn’t so bad after all. 

Lei: Fufu…Exactly. Now, let’s have some fun! Sayo is only here for a short time, after all!

Monologue

It was hard to go back home after spending time with my friends. They all walked me to the bus stop, which made me happy.  Some tears were shed by Emi when we all hugged goodbye. It was hard not to tear up seeing her cry, but we all held it in and comforted her instead.  Luckily I was back before anyone noticed that I had been gone. 

Bonus-Sayo and the gang all together made here

Girls in order -> Rena, Lei, Sayo, Emi, Kisa

[gdmbrwiththerealcrew]

Intro

Gravel riding had become much more popular over the past few years. The clear advantage is getting off busy roads and onto less traveled, often out of the way, dirt/gravel and single track routes. Several of our riding friends who also enjoy bike touring started looking at bike packing on gravel as an alternative. Somehow, a group of us with ties to past cross-country rides decided that we’d enjoy doing a multi-day bike packing trip together out West. And with that, commitments were made nine months in advance of this trip.

The crew includes Steve (that’s me), David, Ed, and Jose. Cumulatively, we have about 6 months of bike touring between us. Our touring miles probably exceed 7,500. However, for all of us, bike packing is a new thing. As of right now, two of us have tried it. I’ve got 4 days and 160 miles in the saddle and Jose has 2 days and 75 miles under his belt. We are all riding bikes with which we’ve never done extensive trips. As a matter of fact, all of our bicycles are new. Regardless, we’ve done our research and we are prepared for some high adventure.

So what are we riding you ask… I’ve got a Surly Ogre with a Moloko handlebar. All steel. 29 inch wheels. David is riding a Kona Unit X with a flatbar handlebar. Also steel on 29 inch wheels. Ed and Jose will be riding true gravel rigs with Salsa Cutthroats. Carbon. Drop bar handlebars. None of the bikes have suspension. It’s going to be interesting to compare bikes along the way!

Our gear will be carried in a variety of bags connected to our handlebars, forks, frames, and rear racks. Like previous trips we will carry all that we need, we hope. We’re self supported so we’ll have tents and sleeping bags, food and stoves, water purifiers, basic tools and parts for in field repairs, and clothing necessary to protect us from the elements.

The weather could vary greatly. We need to be ready for hot and cold as well as rain and snow. Fires have already been an issue to the north of our start so smoke could be a problem. Detours due to forest fires are also a possibility.

I’m sure you’re wondering where we are going. One of the most notable routes for gravel riding is the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route. It runs ~2700 miles between Banff, Alberta to Antelope Wells, New Mexico. We are going to do the first 550 miles. We will start in Banff and head south. Ten days later, we will head west at Seeley Lake leaving the official route for our finish in Missoula on Day 11 or so.

We expect to camp most nights. Often times it will be primitive camping (think no toilets or potable water) in the wilderness. For two days we will be riding the Flathead alternative route in British Columbia known as the Serengeti of North America for its abundant wildlife and remoteness. Other days we may have no services (groceries, etc.) or very limited services. Our mid-trip rest day will probably be in Whitefish, MT where we can enjoy some r&r, assuming we can find hotel with vacancies.

All along the way we will get great views of the Rockies, crossing the continental divide multiple times. We will also pass through several small towns, some will be touristy this time of year while others will be more resource extraction-focused (coal, logging, quarries, etc.). Alberta, British Columbia, and Montana all have great natural beauty and significant exploitable natural resources.

With that… wish us luck!

[micamicster]

Love chapter two!! Which kid reacted to Eddie and Steve getting together the most? Honestly just any thoughts you have about the kids and their thoughts on the relationship (does Dustin still ship Robin and Steve in this AU?) or just anything you want to share now that the fucking is done!

Hi honey thank you so much for asking! I’m so happy you enjoyed part two <3

To give you a few of the strongest reactions: Dustin is thrilled. He feels like his parents got back together, despite them not being his parents and never having been divorced. Tries to take credit for the relationship because he invited Eddie on the trip in the first place.

Max pretends she knew all along because she doesn't believe in letting Steve think he's getting away with anything. This drives Steve nuts because he has no way of proving she didn't know.

Mike is furious. Steve (unbearable lame idiot) is obviously out to sleep with every person mike cares about in the whole wide world, and mike is never going to let him be at peace.

Actually I do have a bit of a deleted scene where Steve and Dustin talk about Steve's sexuality after they get back from tour, again something that I deleted to keep the story contained to the road. But I'll put it under the cut for you guys to check out!

“Hey, Dustin, c’mere for a second? I gotta talk to you.”

“Ooh you need my advice? Lady problems?”

“What? No, that’s not… Well. Kinda.” Steve shakes his head to clear it. “It’s adult stuff, okay. It’s serious.”

“I’m serious!”

“Okay. Before I tell you, like, you don’t get to be pissed at me about this. It’s not like I was trying to keep secrets from you, or anything like that. It just wasn’t ever relevant, before now? And we don’t… We’ve never talked about sex or—“

“This is about sex? Did you knock a girl up!”

“What! Why would I come to you about that?”

“I can be helpful! I have a lot of money, you know.”

“Yeah, that money isn’t yours, pal, it’s held in trust for you by your mom—“

“She lets me use it for emergencies! She’ll understand.” Dustin puts his hand supportively on Steve’s shoulder. He has to reach up slightly, still, to reach it. “We can raise this baby together. I’m all in, man.”

Steve looks at the ceiling and prays for deliverance. “There is. No baby.”

“Aw. I was looking forward to being Uncle Dustin.”

“There’s not—Dustin, you wouldn’t be anything to my kids—“

“That’s not fair! I’m your best friend, and I don’t get to be Uncle Dustin? You’d be Uncle Steve to my kids—“

“That’s… okay, that’s really sweet actually, but that’s not the point. The point is—“

“Who’s the mom?”

“Christ, Dustin, I’m trying to come out to you here!”

Dustin stops.

Steve lets himself sit down on the couch, hard, and rubs at his eyes.

“You mean… like…”

“Yeah,” says Steve heavily.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“But…” Steve opens his eyes and sees Dustin’s thinking frown, the one he gets when an answer isn’t what he expected. “But, you really liked Nancy. Like, really really.”

“Yeah,” says Steve gently. “I did. I like both.”

“Oh.” Dustin sits down on the couch next to him.

“It’s called—“

“Bisexual, I know.”

“What the hell, Henderson, am I never going to get to define a word around here? We’re in my fucking closet right now.”

“Sorry.” He shrugs. “Robin beat you to it. She put it on our sex-ed pamphlets.”

“Yeah... don’t mention that to any reporters, maybe. Legally it’s a bit of a grey area, us giving you sex-ed.”

“No problem,” he chirps.

They sit there on the couch for a beat, staring at the motel wall paper before they both start to speak at the same time.

“So, are we cool?”

“Will’s gay.”

Steve swears under his breath.

“Isn’t he?”

“You’re really not supposed to tell anyone that,” Steve says as delicately as he can. He’s so out of his depth. He should have taken Robin up on her offer to lurk outside, ready to be summoned like the cavalry if things got gnarly.

“But everyone knows. You can tell.“

“Even if you can tell. Even to other… You’re not supposed to say. It’s… not polite,” he finishes limply.

“I just thought…” Dustin turns to look at Steve, young and earnest, “you know, maybe you should tell him too? About you?”

He’s such a decent fucking kid. Where did all that decency come from, growing up in a town like this?

“I will,” Steve promises. “I’m gonna tell everyone. But I wanted to tell you first.” His hand lands on the back of Dustin’s head, cupping his skull. He remembers when he was younger, when it seemed as if his whole soul fit underneath Steve’s cupped hands. Kids are so fucking small.

“Me? Why me?”

Dustin’s not small anymore, not really, but it still feels the same. Steve tousles his hair, rubs his knuckles against his skull until he squirms. He sighs. “Because you’re my best friend.”

Dustin beams at him.

~

"Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?"

“When you said you hadn’t told me about this before…”

"Hey, man, you promised you wouldn’t get pissed about—"

"You said it was never relevant before. Never relevant." He bites the word off crisply, irritating little finger waving in Steve's face like he's underlining his point.

Crap. “Because I was with Nancy, you know, it was serious. It didn’t really matter because I was already in a relationship—“

Dustin brushes this aside. "You’ve been broken up with Nancy for three years. You broke up before you and I even made friends."

"Let’s not—"

"So why would it be ‘relevant’ now?" He puts his hand to his chin in mock-contemplation. "Could it be that it’s relevant because there’s a guy?"

[theadventurek9]

Two weeks with Rebel!

It’s been two weeks since we brought the little pipsqueak home.

She is starting to gain more weight and really is settled into our home. She is confident and overall a joy to be around. Her favorite toy is a wand with feathers, but really likes anything with feathers in general. She likes to carry and drag it around the house if we let her. She currently is also carrying socks around the house as well. She sleeps almost completely through the night cuddled up with us. (Two adult humans, Aayla and her on a queen…it’s starting to get scrunched!) she will wake up and ask for pets sometimes but isn’t too obnoxious about it.

She has great bite and clawing inhibition. Even though we get the normal pounces and bites and clawing from her playing and just being a kitten, she hasn’t drawn blood on any of us. She has great control of her claws (don’t know if I have met a cat like that!) and is gentle overall with her play. Still trying to redirect to toys but the partner likes wrestling with her so it may never go away. I’ve done the normal (you can’t complain when she is an adult) talk with him. I think her temperament is great and it shouldn’t be much of an issue anyways, though I do my best to not encourage it.

Aayla and Rebel get along way better than I expected. Aayla is showing a lot less herding and overall controlling behavior than I thought she would. She isn’t guarding the bed or being bad about muzzle punching when Rebel is jumping up and down off of things. We’ve had some mild RG with chews and while Aayla is eating. Mostly her normal stiffening, lip raised and some growling. Yet she easily lets me step in and remove Rebel and give a treat. Honestly I don’t mind that much that she is a little guardy of these things with animals. I’ve had to intervene with playing less and less. Aayla is still being a bit much but luckily Rebel seems to enjoy all the chasing and playing. They will snuggle on the bed together and overall are coexisting very well.

Training is going great. She has a pretty solid understanding of touch. Being a young kitten she isn’t always as interested in working with us, but understands the concept well. Also working on a go into the crate behavior which she is doing well with right now. I’m starting some handling stuff soon (nail trims) and Eric wants to start teaching her sit.

Leash training is going great. Putting the harness on with putting her head through the front is adversive to her (step in harness coming soon!) so she doesn’t like that but holds still for it to be fastened! Once it’s on she doesn’t seem to care and acts like normal. So I would say we’ve conditioned well to wearing the harness. Having the leash attached is still a little bit of work with conditioning. She gets a little unsure when the leash is in front of her and backs up a bit but recovers quickly. The outside work is just improving, she is getting more and more confident. Starting to engage in some play and more walking around. She likes hanging out on our shoulders so that’s great too.

Overall things are going fantastic. We’re hoping that she may be ready for her first easy camping trip by next month. Probably somewhere local and just for one night.

[thepropertylovers]

Our Quick Little Trip to the Beach

We made the absolute quickest and shortest trip to the beach in I think…ever? We’re back home now, so let’s take a little look at the day and a half we were down there.

The entire purpose of the trip was to bring a bathroom vanity down to the beach cottage for the guest bath. We found this gorgeous double vanity at Southeastern Salvage and knew it would be perfect for the guest bathroom. It has a very laid back, beachy vibe to it and looks great with the tile we had put in.

You’ll have to wait to see it!!

We only spent one day at the beach, womp womp. It rained the rest of the time we were there. The kids made the most of their one day, though, spending hours and hours playing in the water, only taking breaks to eat leftover pizza on the beach (are they living the life or are they living the life?).

I was a little surprised by how hot it was down there- in the mid ti upper 80’s. We aren’t used to that level of heat just yet here in Tennessee!!

Another main reason we went on this specific weekend is because the kids were out of school for Good Friday, but also because PJ’s entire family was down there!! His mom, younger sister, two aunts, grandma, and his aunt’s friend all rented a house just down the street from us.

We’ve gone to the beach with his family every year for the past three years now, and I love the family time we get with them. They play with the kids at the beach, which of course gives us some down time to relax. What would we do without them?

We have these two gorgeous trees in our backyard at the beach cottage that the kids absolutely love to climb on every time we’re there, Allan especially. If we ever wanted a pool back there, they would have to go, but I think we’ll forgo a pool just for the sake of never having to cut them down.

The night before we left, we went to one of our favorite restaurants down there, Mike’s Oyster Bar & Grill. It’s nothing fancy, just super causal and the food is always so delicious.

There’s a bit of a wait on a Friday night, but it’s always worth it. I got the shrimp po’boy!

We were only there for the weekend, and actually left a day early because the weather was so crappy. We left at 4p and got home around 12:30a, which is actually a super easy drive since the kids sleep a lot of it.

All together it was a super quick trip but oh so fun, and a necessary one in order to get things done so we can hopefully stay in the beach cottage this summer!!!