#gotta socialize a bit!! look at some rocks!! get some fresh air!!!

[im-smart-i-swear]

drops this at your feet and disappears for two weeks

[homiesexual-or-homosexual]

Battle of the Bands - Chapter 12

chpt 1 / chpt 2 / chpt 3 / chpt 4 / chpt 5 / chpt 6 / chpt 7 / chpt 8 / chpt 9 / chpt 10 / chpt 11 / chpt 12 / chpt 13 / chpt 14

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Genre: chrissy doesn't die and Eddie graduates, fluff, eventual smut

Warnings: alcohol use/drinking, little bit of trauma reveal

Word Count: 2K

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It's thursday evening. You've joined Eddie on his thursday evening rehearsals with Corroded Coffin. You brought along your bass, just in case. And just conveniently the boys had a couple bass amps laying around.

They all greet you, excited to see that you decided to visit, and for a whole week! The boys all get settled quickly, and you off to the side. You can tell the boys like to play loud, especially with the garage door open to let some fresh air in. Gareth leans over to you, since you're not too far from where him and his drum are, and says that since the rich kid neighborhood is just a couple streets over, they like to remind those jerks that you can't escape the freaks for forever. You can only nod. It seems those jocks bullied everyone outside of their social circle.

As they rehearse, the boys go through a variety of songs. Mostly playing their own, but sometimes going off and playing songs that they confidently now. You can’t help but join in from where you’re seated. You don’t think they can hear it, as the amp is low, but no one misses the added rumble of lower bass.

“What kind of bass you got?” Jeff asks during one of their breaks so they can write down anything new that they’ve come up with.

“Rock,” You answer, glancing at the head of your bass.

Jeff nods, “I’ve been saving up for one of those. They’ve got more of a rumble to them, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You perk up. No one seems to talk about bass a lot, even your own band members. “Same notes, but the tone is lower.”

Jeff nods, showing Eddie his fingerings that he played moments prior.

You can’t help but stare at Eddie as he writes down lyrics and notes in the journal you’d seen sitting in his room. His curls are more unruly than normal, surely full of tangles that he might brush out later. His eyebrows are scrunched in concentration, and there’s a light sheen of sweat across his cheeks. Due to the heat outside, which dissipates slowly as the sun sets, and the heat that builds up playing guitar, the veins in Eddie’s arms and hands seem a bit more prominent. They poked out of the skin, casting shadows across his skin. Eddie’s tongue sticks out as the boys sit around and discuss their newest song, him writing down or erasing ideas that simply don’t work.

As you stare, you don’t notice Gareth stepping away from the group.

“You got a crush on him or something?” He asks.

“Huh??” You blink rapidly, looking up at the drummer.

Gareth’s got an amused look on his face, his eyebrows raised and his arms crossed.

“You got a crush on our little cult leader?” He asks again.

“Uhhh.. why??” You ask, obviously avoid his question.

“Well, for one, you’re staring at him,” He points out. “In fact, you both stare at each other when the other isn’t looking, a lot. And I think Eddie’s got a crush on you too. He was so excited when you showed up at his house, and when you called before you came. He’d talk about you a lot when we were at Battle of the Bands too. And, from what I hear, he’s letting you sleep in his bed. He barely lets any of us lay on his bed when we’re over. You’ve gotta be something special to him.”

You can only stare at Gareth blankly as you let the words he spoke simmer in your brain. A blush growing over your cheeks when the words click in your head.

“Oh well,” You start bashfully, waving off Gareth’s words. “I don’t know about that. I know you guys are special to him too. Hell, he’s known you guys a lot longer than he’s known me.”

“Yeah, true,” Gareth shrugs, looking over when Eddie calls him over. “But after you and Carver’s little interactions that I’ve heard about, Eddie seems to look up to you. We were all too scared to stand up to Carver in high school, especially when he had the whole school wrapped around his finger. But to have you, not from this town, shoot down Carver faster than a pistol. That’s brave.”

“Well uh thanks,” You shrug. “Whoever that Carver was, he sounds like real jerk anyway.”

Gareth huffs, smiling, and trots over to the rest of the boys when Eddie calls his name again.

You only sit and wonder, looking at Eddie again, doing less of a spacey staring this time. From here at your seat a few feet away from the group of boys, you notice a scar on his chin and on the bridge of his nose. You notice his eye bags, but the same light in his eyes that you’ve grown accustomed too. Sure, he was bullied in high school. But he’s still here, and he got through it and that’s all that really matters.

At the end of the night, amps are turned off and everyone’s sitting near the entrance to the garage. The air is chilly and there’s a light breeze in the air. The full moon and streetlights lighting up the air outside.

Some have beers in their hands, but you and Eddie share a joint. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders, a bit of a warm, protective bubble protecting you from the cold air. But Gareth keeps eyeing you, talking to you through his eyes. Obviously gesturing to Eddie’s arm around you and his relaxed demeanor that shows through now that he’s got you close.

You try to shrug it off, you do. But you can’t. You can’t miss the way Eddie squeezes you close when a strong gust of wind blows through Gareth’s neighborhood. Nor the way your hands hesitate to pull away when you pass the joint between you two. And nor the way you catch Eddie staring at your from your peripheral.

“Alright kiddos,” Eddie separates from you, standing up. “It’s time me and Missus head home.”

Gareth only raises his eyebrows in a “SEE?!?!” manner, looking between you and Eddie. Then he relaxes when Eddie faces the group with his guitar slung over his shoulder and your bass in his hands, both already packed snuggly into their cases.

“That alright?” Eddie heads back over to you, offering a hand to help you up.

You take it and he hoists you up from the concrete, “Yeah.”

“Night night, boys,” Eddie waves to them, not separating your hands as you say goodbye.

“Bye Eddie,” The chorus. “Bye Y/n! See you tomorrow!”

“Bye guys!” You wave before opening the passenger door to Eddie’s van, waiting as he settles the guitars in the back.

He starts up his van and you’re on your way back to Eddie’s trailer.

Eddie can’t remember what cassette he put in. But what he hopes to remember is the sound of your voice as you quietly sing along to whatever song is playing through the speakers in his van. And it seems that he gets home a little faster than he you’ve hoped. But nonetheless, he’s gathering up your guitars and leading the way inside and opening the front door for you.

“What if,” You and Eddie have settled in his room, and he’s setting down your guitars to lean them up against the wall. “We like, made a song together?”

“Together??” You give him a bewildered look, sitting on his bed to take your shoes off.

“Yeah, like I can sing, you can sing, we can both sing,” He shrugs his shoulders, slinging his jacket from his shoulders. “I can play guitar, and you can play your bass, or we can both play guitar.”

"Umm...," You think for a minute, looking down at your lap before back up at Eddie. "I can do guitar. I think it'd be cool if we both did, see what we can do with that?"

"Perfect!" You watched as Eddie spun around, prancing over to the case where you kept your guitar, unzipped the case, and back over to you. He bestowed your Ibanez electric like a sword being bestowed to a rightful heir, bowing down on one knee in front of you. You take it with gentle hands, settling it in your lap.

You tune by ear as Eddie takes his B.C. Rich electric out of his case, setting it on his bed as he fiddles around with his amps and cords, untangling and plugging them into outlets on the wall and then tossing a cord towards you to plug into. Once the amp is on and safely plugged in, you start doodling, adjusting your knobs on the lower body to your preferred sound.

While you do that, Eddie watches as he sets up his own amp, still standing over by his wall that's adjacent to where you sit just beside his bed. He watches your skilled fingers pluck at the strings, he still has to find a pick for you, and press into silver strings. Your hair falls around your shoulders, blocking half of your face to his view. The only time you look back at him is when the metalhead sits across from you, guitar in his lap, notebook thrown on the floor between you two. He hands you a spare pick he had laying around.

"M'lady," Your fingers graze as he hands you the pick.

"Sir."

You watch as Eddie flips open his notebook, flipping through scribbled on and messy pages before finding a blank one. It's a composition notebook, so it's a full blank board.

Eddie sets the vibe first, going between watching his own fingers to you, watching to see if you're not vibing with what he's putting down. You are though. How could you not when you both have the same taste in music? You join in soon, on your electric. You stutter for a moment as Eddie starts singing, not used to hearing his voice outside of concert. It's smooth, with a bit of roughness mixed in at just the right moments.

You join in on your guitar first, watching his fingers to get a vibe of what Eddie was shooting for this session, following his a few octaves up. You occasionally added your own spin on parts, the two different guitars melding nicely together. And, rather nervously, you do eventually join in with your own vocals. They're quiet at first, and you try not to notice the stutter in Eddie's fingers and the way he whips his head up to look at you. You keep your head down, a light red dusting your cheeks.

But eventually, you do get enough courage to play at the same volume Eddie does, and to sing just a little louder. And you get into the groove of occasional breaks to write down what you two have made up, and to talk it through and plan the next few verses, and then jumping right back into your private performance.

You can't help but stare at Eddie as you sing, and he stares right back. He's doused in the yellow light of his room, outlining his hair and coloring stray hairs that heavenly yellow-orange color. His skin is practically glowing in the light, highlighting any peach fuzz on his face and the hair on his arms, as well as creating shadows from where his veins protrude from his arms and hands. Eddie is a good mixture between pretty and handsome, and you wouldn't change it for the world.

And you two Eddie, his lamp on his dresser at the side of his room casted his shadow over you, lighting you up in the yellow light. You're skin glowed and you're eyes seemed to shine even brighter. The light only highlighted what could be seen if someone was really paying attention, the freckles and spots on your face, the curves and dips of the tendons in your neck. And that one freckle on your right arm that seemed to stand out like white on black.

Neither of you know what time it is, nor the car pulling into the dirt driveway in front of the trailer, nor the door front door opening, nor the footsteps coming down the hall to see where the sound was coming from.

Eddie stops first, the creaking of his bedroom door opening stopping his actions like that of a deer in the car of headlights. You stop after him, a light buzz coming from the amps you're hooked up to.

"It's bedtime, kiddos," Wayne's peaking his head into the room.

"Oh shit," Eddie looks at his digital clock behind him, it displays 5:30am. "I guess it is."

"Goodnight, you two," Wayne bids goodnight as he slowly shuts the door, a small smile on his face.

"Goodnight Wayne!" You two say back.

Reluctantly, Eddie turns off the amps and wraps up the cords you two were using after unplugging them from your guitars. Eddie hangs his guitar up on her wall mount before taking yours and propping it against his dresser.

"What if," You start, in the process of going through your suitcase to find potential pjs. "We did something like this?"

Eddie watches as you finger along to whatever tune your humming to him.

"And then," You finger again, humming a different tune.

Eddie can only watch as he moves things from his floor so neither of you step on anything in the morning. He watches as you talk with your hands, talking almost a mile a minute. Obviously you're excited about the song you two are writing. So excited you forget to tell Eddie to turn around as you start to change into your pjs. All Eddie can do is blush and advert his eyes as he looks for pjs of his own, still listening to your ramblings. He's a gentleman after all, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to stop his eyes from wandering, you're attractive after all.

Once he's done with his pjs, and you with yours, Eddie guides you towards the bed, sitting you down so he can turn his lap off without bumping into you in the dark and possibly knocking you over. Making his way back over to his bed in the minimal light, Eddie uses his hands as his eyes as he navigates the maze of blankets and pillows, trying to find you before he's comfy under his blankets.

You're already under the covers, and when Eddie settles down you nuzzle up to him, but not too close.

"What if we both had a solo?" You asl, still rambling. "Like cool ones. That kick ass!"

Eddie chuckles, "Yeah?"

"Yeah!" And you dive head first into another rambling, same subject, different topic. Eddie can just barely see you talking with your hands beside him, and he can practically hear the smile in his voice. But it's a yawn of his own that temporarily blocks out your voice.

"Sweetheart."

"Yeah?" You ask, cutting of your rambling to give Eddie your undivided attention.

"Let's get some sleep before the sun rises, yeah?" Eddie suggests, his voice soft.

"Okay," You yawn, turning towards him to get comfy.

"Goodnight," Eddie whispers.

"Goodnight," You whisper back, your now tired mind zeroing in on his hand that holds yours. When did that happen? It's so warm that you barely care though. And soon enough, you're already more than halfway asleep, almost missing the way Eddie takes his free hand to move some stray hairs from your face and press a tentative kiss to your forehead.

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Taglist: @calizmor

[yourcoffindoor]

Bulletproof Heart Pt. 1

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Prompt: Request from Anon- “ could you write one where the reader is a rock singer and they and mcr are on warped tour together, and they both lowkey like each other but think they’re both out of each other’s league, and find out that they’re both secretly into nerdy stuff + maybe getting together? thank you so much xxx”

AN: This is a multi-part series--I couldn’t help myself! Also, I based this fic around something Gerard said in a Rolling Stone interview:

Hope its ok Anon! enjoy!

You had dreamed of this moment since you first picked up a guitar. Back then it felt like an impossible fantasy, being on stage with your band, playing in front of a crowd of screaming fans; which is why it felt so surreal when your manager Tim told you that your band, The Violent Delights, had booked Warped Tour.

"June 18th," he told you with a satisfied grin, "you're in for the long haul, kids."

Your band-mates let out a collective shriek of joy, while you planted a grateful kiss on Tim's cheek.

"You're an OK manager, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, dramatically wiping his cheek where your lips had been. "Now you guys better get practicing. This is a good opportunity to really get your name out there. Plus you got some real popular acts to compete with."

Your interest was peaked. "Oh yeah? Like who?"

"Off the top of my head? Fall Out Boy, Dropkick Murphys, and I think a band called My Chemical Romance."

"Oh shit, My Chem?" your bassist, Gavin, piped up excitedly. "That's the band I'm always trying to get Y/N to listen to."

"I'll have to finally borrow their last album," you replied, "gotta scope out the competition after all." Gavin rolled his eyes while you laughed.

Your manager got serious. "It's three months on the road, and its gonna take a lot of energy and hard work. Quite frankly, it ain't glamorous."

"Tim, when have we ever been glamorous? I wouldn't care if it were a 12 month tour," you declared, "I wouldn't miss this opportunity for the world." Liz, your drummer, nodded in agreement beside you.

"You might be singing a different tune when you haven't had a shower in three days."

"As long as I'm singing it in front of an audience, we'll be fine."

* * *

Back at your apartment you marked June 18th on your calendar with a star, feeling invigorated with excitement all over again. This was it, you thought, the next level for our band. You were determined to give it your very best, outperforming every other band there.

After all, you had worked so hard to get to this point. Starting in friend's basements and tiny cafes, the band had slowly built up a sizable following of loyal fans. You were no longer the opening act, drawing sell out crowds more often than not. You made a promise to yourself that the band wasn't going to lose this momentum. There would be no distractions for you on this tour, just hard work and the thrill of performing. That meant no parties, and absolutely no boys. You weren't ready for another relationship, you told yourself, especially since the last one ended in disaster.

Yes, this was the moment the band had been waiting for. You let the warm excitement that this knowledge brought envelope you, and you lay your head down on your pillow, falling asleep to fantasies of what lay ahead.

* * *

Its a long road from Maryland to Ohio. Columbus was the first stop of the tour, which meant your band had 6 and a half hours to go over the set-list, make adjustments  discuss their hopes and fears for the three month experience. Gavin gave you a few CDs to listen too, including My Chemical Romance's Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge.  You had heard their first album ages ago and enjoyed it, but there was something incandescent to the music you were hearing now. It stirred a whirlwind of heavy emotion, and you were enthralled from beginning to end. You made a mental note to see them perform at Warped as soon as possible.

When your bus arrived at its destination, you felt the unwelcome buzz of nerves building in your stomach. This was real, you thought, this was happening. You were used to performing at this point, but it was the amount of people you'd be performing for that was nerve-wracking. Not to mention the fellow artists who may be watching and judging your sound. You breathed deep and tried to push past the nervous thoughts that hummed incessantly around your head like insects.

Your band-mates were buzzing about with excitement, but you needed to distract yourself. Fresh air always helped settle you, so you grabbed your shoes and decided to go for a walk around the venue.

It looked almost like a circus with all the trailers and tents that had quickly populated the surrounding area. Merch stands and catering tents were being organizes as dozens upon dozens of vans and trailers pulled in. There were already a few fans camped outside of the chain-link fence that surrounded the area, eagerly awaiting a glimpse of their favorite artists.

You kept wandering, and you saw that a band was being interviewed in the media tent. There were five of them, each holding a microphone; but one member, a dark haired boy, was doing most of the talking. He was cute, you thought, and your stomach did little flips watching him respond to the questions that were being asked.

You watched a little bit longer from a distance, until you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to see Gavin and Liz, who had been doing a bit of exploring as well.

"Hey, there you are! I was talking to a few people by the catering tent. They said some bands are having a party on their buses later tonight, we should check it out." Gavin informed you excitedly.

You hesitated. No parties. "I dunno, I want us to be in good condition to perform tomorrow."

Liz chimed in. "All work and no play, Y/N. C'mon, it'll be a great chance to make some connections with other bands."

"If you don't come with us," Gavin pronounced dramatically, "we'll be far too devastated to perform tomorrow." His hand went to his forehead, as though he was about to faint.

"Somehow I doubt that."

"Pretty please?" Liz stuck her lower lip out pathetically.

"With sugar on top?" Gavin added.

You glanced at the black haired boy in the distance. Maybe he'd be there, a small voice in your head piped up.

"Ugh Fine! But I'll only stay for a little bit."

Satisfied, the pair stopped harassing you, and left you to continue wandering, promising to meet up with them later.

* * *

People spilled out from open trailers as music blared from an unknown source in the background. Some were already far gone, stumbling from place to place, or lying on the ground blacked out.

You followed Gavin inside one of the trailers. You watched as he interacted with the strangers inside with ease, a trait you envied. He managed to find you both drinks, and you grabbed the mystery beverage, sculling it in hopes that it would numb your nervousness. You may have been a great performer onstage, but offstage it was easy for your social anxiety to take the wheel.

Gavin began to walk away, ignoring your whispered pleas not to leave you. Fuck. It always felt awkward to not know anyone at a party. You clutched your red cup like a life jacket keeping you afloat in a sea of drunken strangers.

A man approached you out of nowhere, the smell of alcohol emanating from every pore on his body.

"You look lonely." He leered at you expectantly.

"Then it seems like you need glasses. I'm just fine on my own."

He laughed. "Ooo! I like you. You've got spunk. Name's Brent, guitarist from Midnite Heist."

"Can't say I've heard of you guys."

Brent was either oblivious to your indifference, or just chose to ignore it. "So how'd you end up at this party?"

"I'm in a band on the tour too. Lead singer actually."

"No way! That's awesome, we need more talented eye candy on this tour."

You screamed internally while he droned on, tuning him out as you continued to sip from your fast emptying cup.

You scanned the room, watching people laugh and dance. Your stomach suddenly flipped again as you noticed the black haired boy from this afternoon, solemn faced and quiet, silently nursing a diet coke in his hands. He was clearly not having a good time. The guitarist who had been talking you up soon saw you looking at the sullen figure and turned his attention towards him, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

"Gerard fucking Way!" he bellowed, carelessly sloshing his drink as he waved him over, causing a stream of alcohol to fall to the floor below.

Gerard seemed to hesitate before walking over. "It's been awhile man," he said softly. His eyes, a warm hazel, flicked to you repeatedly as he spoke. "you here for the whole tour this time?"

Brent laughed, his sobriety dangling by a thread.  "Yeah, but still not up on the main stage, unlike you big-shots." he said, punching Gerard in the arm. Gerard offered a crooked smirk in return, his patience already wearing thin. Brent nudged you in the arm. "This is Y/N, her band is new to Warped. I told her I'd show her the ropes." He grinned at you. Ugh.

Gerard seemed to sense your discomfort. "Welcome, nice to see a new face around."

Brent interrupted before you could respond. "How come you're wasting time with a coke? I would've expected you to be the first one wasted here."

Gerard's jaw clenched, and you cringed internally at the sheer awkwardness of the encounter. "I'm sober now," he informed Brent, "I don't touch that shit anymore."

Brent laughed dismissively. "Dude, you?  Do you even remember the last Warped tour? I'll give it 2 days before you're lying face down in the bushes again." he laughed as if he had just said something hilarious.

You were livid, and Gerard was on edge. You decided to step in when you noticed his knuckles turn white from clenching his coke can.

You moved slightly, ready to get between them. "Hey you know what? I'd really love a coke right now too. Mind showing me where they are?" you looked pleadingly at Gerard. He took the hint.

"Follow me."

You gave a curt wave to Brent, who looked on in confusion before continuing his drinking binge.

You stepped outside, and the sounds from the party behind you became a faint, thumping buzz in the background. You were both silent for a moment before you decided to break the ice.

"So that guy was a dick."

Gerard's scowl turned into a thin, lopsided smirk. Your heart melted a bit. "Yeah. I just realized some of these people are only tolerable when I'm drunk."

Stop. Move away. You don't need a distraction like this. You tried to scold yourself but words kept escaping from your lips, prolonging the encounter.

"This is my first time doing Warped Tour, but I'm assuming these parties are pretty much never-ending?"

Gerard pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "Oh yeah, its every night for some of these bands. You're in for an interesting experience." You looked at him for a moment, perhaps for a bit too long. You had never seen anyone look so beautiful while surrounded by clouds of smoke.

"Yoohoooo! Y/N!" you heard the hollering of a clearly tipsy Gavin call from the doorway of the next trailer. "Where'd you go? The night is young! Get back here!"

You sighed. "That's my cue. Well actually that's my bassist, but he'll never let me live it down if I don't go back in there."

Gerard turned his head to the side and exhaled. "Catch you around. Next time you need rescuing from a douche-bag just light the bat signal."

You gave him a soft smile, forcing yourself to turn away and walk back to the trailer. As you did, you whispered aloud to yourself as a reminder:

"No distractions. No boys."

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Exploring the Land of Sweets

It's a strange feeling, being cut off from the outside world. When I said I wondered what it's like to live under a rock, I didn't mean it in a literal sense. At least in this case it was a good thing that the Land of Sweets is actually under a rock - the whole city's practically underground. I'd hate to imagine the full extent of the damage done by the thundering storm if we were above ground.

I haven't been able to see much of the destruction itself other than a bunch of fallen trees around the area. Electricity, phone, and wifi were all down so that was interesting. I'll admit it's frustrating being without all three but we managed to live with it for the time being. Honestly, I'm surprised that I survived!

I think the biggest problem for me is not having wifi. Because of that and phone lines were down, we had no way of communicating. Texts weren't getting sent or received and calls were breaking up. If we had to follow the news closely in case of emergencies, we'd be screwed!

As for electricity, well, a lot of things rely on that - like pretty much everything from cooking, cleaning, lights - so we had to make do. At least in a place like the Land of Sweets - the candy capital of the world! - there's still stuff to do that don't rely on electricity. It'll take a lot of work, but it's worth it and it'll keep us busy.

On the first morning without power, we went cacao picking. I've never seen a cacao bean before, nor harvested them, so that was fun! Daisy Jane, Lolly, and I made a little game of who can pick the most beans. To our surprise we managed to pick out good beans! Then after that we took the fruit to The Choc-Choc Bar where Brownie taught us how to make chocolate bars. We got to make our own by melting different flavors of chocolate, pouring them into molds, and decorating with toppings. While the chocolate set we decorated our own wrappers and voila! So there went the first half of the day.

From late afternoon to evening we went swimming at the Sweetfish Lake, where we caught dinner to cook over a bonfire. I tried not to use my phone too much since I didn't want to use up my power bank - which was fully charged before the storm thankfully - but in case a call goes through or phone service comes back then I'll know right away. Sadly, aside from a few very delayed texts from concerned friends trying to reach each other, it looked like it'll be a while before things get back up again.

Next day and no word on when electricity or phone will be fixed. Starting to feel a little weird from being cut off from everything. If I were at home I'd probably be going stir crazy. It sucks not being able to check in with my friends and such but I gotta deal with it. At least it's another fun day making more sweets and hiking around the hills.

So on that day we made caramel and fudge from scratch at Sugar Sweets. Like with Choc-Choc, we can't use the usual equipment so we did things the old fashioned way with a fire instead of a stove. In a way it's not too different from cooking over a campfire in the wilderness. I was wondering abut the fridges, then Cinnamon explained that the fridges in the stores have a backup energy source in case of emergencies so they'll keep running for up to a week.

After making a bunch of sweets we went hiking at the cobblestone trail, which was a good way to destress and unwind. Being out on the trail, lost in the flowers and clouds, it really helps you get your mind off things. Of course, I couldn't let go completely so I occasionally checked my phone for any changes - none still. Daisy Jane and I picked flowers - strawberries, berrypetals, lollipoppies, gingeraniums, marzipanies - and a bunch of other rare plants I've never seen before! We saved the strawberries for a later activity and made bouquets and flower crowns with the rest.

Day three and the electricity came back on. Phone service was sporadic so at least we were getting something. Still sucks to be cut off though. But at least we don't have to worry about the fridges anymore. With the leftover flowers from yesterday we made perfume and with the strawberries we put aside, we made shortcakes and pie.

Once the desserts were baked and cooling off we went out to the fields to collect vanilla beans to make fresh cream. The fields are so big, some areas are like a jungle! Like the cacao beans, I've never seen fresh vanilla. I heard that using actual vanilla instead of just the extract is a game changer so I'm looking forward to trying it out on different recipes.

On our way back to Puffy's Pastries, we stopped by Coconut Farm to get milk. Puff and Milky showed us how to milk cows, which takes a lot of muscle. It was also fun getting to know the livestock - I swear Milky has a way of speaking with them that makes it interesting to watch their interactions. Once the milk was ready to go, we headed back to the bakery to make cream for the desserts. And I have to say, the fresh vanilla bean really does make a difference!

Around evening something came through, I went online and was able to refresh my feed. A lot of things wouldn't load but at least there's a signal, even though it's a weak one. No word on when wifi will be back yet but at least we can finally have a glance of the outside world. Feels weird not being able to scroll through social media for a couple days now. Hopefully the world's still standing by the time I get back online.

Day four and Daisy Jane manages to snag an update on the whole wifi situation. In short, phone and wifi should be running no later than Monday - two days from today. Because of the damage from the storm, it's taking a lot longer to get things back up. At least now there's some places that are getting their phone service back so it won't be long until we're able to connect again.

In the meanwhile, Daisy Jane and I have gone for a short hike at Gingerbread Way, a winding trail scattered with colorful lollipoppies. It was a beautiful day, butterflies were fluttering about and the air was fragrant with vanilla sugar. We really needed this - to get lost for a bit and get our minds off things we can't control.

I'll be honest, we couldn't have picked a better time to visit the Land of Sweets. Even when things are iffy and uncertain, there's usually a silver lining. Though I'm looking forward to when this is over so we don't have to keep worrying.

[fanficsandfluff]

Emotions Get the Better (13)

Okay okay. Artistic liberties so I’m pushing back the order of movie events to make room for some fluff. Y’all know I can’t write this long without a substantial amount of fluff. 

Also, it’s really fluffy

Like probably too fluffy

Enjoy!

~~~~

You woke up feeling well-rested enough. As you blinked your eyes open against the blazing morning sun, you knew there was a weird dream poking at your brain, and you were trying to remember. Something to do with Arthur in his clown getup, but you couldn’t remember what happened exactly. Oh well. 

You slung yourself out of bed and stood by the window, ogling because you hadn’t seen this much sun in Gotham in months. It was truly a sight to behold. You looked down at the streets below, seeing the day’s 9 to 5 workers bustling back and forth in large crowds. And you raised your eyebrows when you saw multiple clown masks among those average folk. Another protest? Oh right, Thomas Wayne was having a press conference somewhere nearby today in one of the official buildings. 

This clown thing ramped up very quickly. You never liked clowns, then you see one on the street, then you get to know him, and now anti-1% clowns are running around Gotham asking for justice. 

You didn’t have much planned today since you didn’t have work. Your theater was preparing for the gala that was coming up later that week, so they needed time to fix the place up. You knew you wanted to bake cookies at some point and you had to pick up refills on your prescriptions, but that was pretty much it. 

You got dressed and felt refreshed when the nipper air hit your skin the minute you stepped outside. Seasons were changing, and you were grateful for it. 

You walked the long walk to your pharmacy and pushed the door open, hearing the entry bell tinkle. You walked to the back of the store and put your name in, then stepped aside to wait for them to give you your refills.

And who would sidle up beside you from the pain medication isle but Arthur. You were nudged gently by said man standing very close beside you, so you looked up and smiled wide, “Hi!” you greeted him, probably a bit too enthusiastically. 

Arthur smiled back at you, “Hi. What’re you doing here?” he did his best to act innocently, as if he didn’t already know you came to this pharmacy for prescription drugs. 

You hadn’t had to confront him yet about your own bodily malfunctions, and it made you feel ashamed. So, you wound up not answering him right away, clearing your throat.

“Oh, just picking up some stuff. What about you?”

“Same. I’m getting the last of my, um, prescriptions.”

“Why the last?”

“They’ve stopped funding my social service program.”

You frowned, taken aback by the news, “Oh.... Arthur, I’m sorry.”

Arthur shrugged, “What can you do? No one feels for the little guy anymore.”

The pharmacist called Arthur’s name and he walked up to the counter. You stood there, feeling increasingly bad about his situation. Every single thing just seemed to go wrong for this poor man. And it wasn’t fair at all. 

Arthur stepped aside after he received his pretty hefty back of prescriptions, and you were next, taking yours and putting them away into your purse. 

“You busy today?” you asked.

Arthur seemed to think about it, “Um, no. But... But I promised my mother I’d make us dinner tonight.”

You smiled at that, “That’s sweet. Well, I was going to do some baking today. Cookies, mostly. You wanna come over and help? Afterwards, you can bring some home to your mom.”

Arthur’s face seemed to loosen at this request and his lips curved into a smile. He nodded, “Sure, I’d like that.”

“Great. Come, I gotta pick up some ingredients,” you didn’t know what possessed you, but you slid your hand comfortably into Arthur’s and tugged him along with you to the exit. It felt good to be more physical with him. And Arthur didn’t seem to mind at all, smiling goofily, looking down at your intertwined hands. 

You walked down the street with your hand in his, asking about how his mom was doing, if he was looking for another job. 

That’s when Arthur asked, “Do you have family?” which sounded like an odd question to you. Did you seem like that much of a loner?

“Yeah. None of them live in Gotham though. My mom lives out east more, in the nicer suburbs. And my dad lives in Chicago with his girlfriend. And I have two brothers, one older and one younger.”

Arthur seemed to stare at you a little differently while you were giving the brief rundown of your family and their whereabouts. Was it an incomprehension? Or jealousy? You couldn’t quite place his reaction when you looked up at him, but turned into the grocery store when you reached it, letting go of his hand finally and holding the door for him, “After you.”

Arthur appeared to have moved on and he nodded his head in thanks to you and stepped inside. 

You always loved the smell of the fresh baking bread in grocery stores. But money was getting tighter since you weren’t working as frequently, so you resisted the urge to pick up a fresh loaf of bread. You purchased all of your required ingredients and headed to your home.

“Alright, I’m so ready to get these cookies baking,” you said once you entered your apartment. You set the grocery bag down on the kitchen countertop, and Arthur followed by putting his down, as well. You threw off your coat and kicked off your shoes, tying your hair up as a final step.

“Do you bake?”

“No, not really.”

“Your mom never made anything for you or showed you how to bake something?”

Arthur shook his head, “She wasn’t really a cook.”

You nodded, “Alright, not everyone’s good at it. My mom was an awful cook growing up. I swear she was trying to poison my brothers and me sometimes.”

Arthur chuckled at the joke.

“This’ll be fun. If you and your mom like these cookies, maybe you can bake them yourself for her at some point.”

Arthur nodded, liking the idea.

You pulled out your measuring cups, bowls, and stirring tools needed to create the dough for the sugar cookies you wanted to bake. 

You told him to measure out 3 cups of flour as you went into the adjacent living room and flipped through your records to put on some music. You found one of the rock and roll records your dad gifted you a few years back and stuck the needle into it. 

“Okay, let’s do this,” you beamed when you walked back into the kitchen, clapping your hands together, “So whenever you’re baking cookies, it’s important to keep the dry ingredients separate from the wet ingredients.”

And you went on, explaining to Arthur step by step what to do and why. He seemed eager to learn and was nodding at everything you told him. 

“This is the part that always makes my hand hurt afterward, it requires a lot of manpower. So go for it,” you chuckled and instructed Arthur to slowly mix in the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients bowl. 

You watched his face mostly as he worked, seeing the determined jut in his brow. You saw him whisking up the flour a bit too fast, so it puffed up everywhere, sprinkling over your countertop and on him. 

“Sorry! I--”

“Ihit’s okay!” you giggled and stepped closer to him. You hooked an arm underneath his and started rolling up his sleeve for him, “Baking’s messy, that’s supposed to happen.”

Arthur seemed distracted by you rolling up his sleeves, but he resumed his mixing, slower this time. You smiled at him and when you took a step back, you realized just how much sexier Arthur looked with rolled-up sleeves. It added to his usual button-up shirt and sweater combo. You leaned closer to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before you went to the other end of the kitchen in search of a rolling pin.

Arthur blushed hard and his head turned towards you when you administered the kiss. You were so easy to touch him and hug him and kiss him. Was he supposed to be the same towards you? Was he not reciprocating enough? Worry quickly encompassed Arthur’s mind seconds after feeling on cloud nine. That’s just what he did. 

You grabbed your large rolling pin and sauntered back over to Arthur, seeing he was finishing up the dough. You tapped the rolling pin on his ass teasingly, asking, “How’s it going?”

Arthur jolted at the touch, making you laugh. He eyed you, “I dunno, you tell me.”

You peered into his bowl and asked for the spoon from him. He handed it over and you started to finish kneading until it was perfect dough consistency, “Tada. You just made your first sugar cookie dough,” and you gave him a round of applause.

Arthur smiled, “That wasn’t so bad.”

“I know. Now, we gotta let this set up in the fridge for like twenty minutes to a half hour,” you bunched up the dough into a ball and wrapped it up in saran wrap, sticking it into the fridge carefully. 

You scraped your finger on the side of the bowl that used to contain the dough and licked it off, “Try some. Cookie dough is the most delicious thing on the planet.”

And Arthur followed your lead, tasting the granules of sugar and the slight saltiness and the smoothness. It was pretty tasty.

“Mmmm,” you moaned in happiness when you swiped the last of the dough from the bowl, “I’m excited for these.”

“Where’d you learn to cook?” Arthur inquired.

“I dunno. My dad was always the chef of the family, but he left when I was relatively young. I’m mostly self-taught. I went away to college so I had to fend for myself, and I didn’t have the money to eat out every day. So I learned to cook.”

You started putting dishes into the sink and soaking them. You offered, “And hey, if you ever wanna cook something at your own home, I can give you a few recipes. Oh, I have this one for grilled cheese,” you groaned in pleasure, “Oh, it’s fucking amazing.”

Arthur chortled, “I lihike that you’re so passionate about food.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure I look like I’m passionate about food,” you giggled, giving yourself a jab at your own weight. Nothing awful, just throwing it out there.

“You’re beautiful,” Arthur said sweetly, genuinely. Anytime he did those sudden extreme compliments, you flushed red. You just couldn’t help it. This time was no different. You didn’t really show any reaction when he said that, just ducking your burning face as you started washing dishes you wouldn’t be using anymore. Arthur leaned in close to your ear and he whispered, “You’re beautiful,” and that made you giggle bashfully.

“Ahalright, I get it. Thank you,” you turned your head and made eye contact. It seemed Arthur was waiting for you to look his way, being in such close proximity, and he kissed you on the lips. You kissed back for that brief moment and then smiled wide at him afterward. 

When you finished the dishes, you offered Arthur some tea. He accepted and you boiled water for the two of you so you could have tea in the meantime while waiting for the cookie dough to set up. You were telling Arthur about how nervous you were to be working the gala at Wayne Hall in two days. You heard they were planning a massive strike outside, and you didn’t know how much longer these protests would be ‘peaceful.’ But you really wanted to watch Modern Times with a live orchestra, so you said you’d suck it up. 

“Alright, time for the fun part,” you announced after a half hour had flown by, after you and Arthur had drank your tea. 

Arthur went with you back into the kitchen and observed you, standing close by. You stuck your hands into the flour bag and sprinkled some all over the cutting board, “Just throw the dough on there, please,” you requested.

Arthur did as he was told, plopping it onto the floured surface, “See, you do this so the dough doesn’t stick anywhere and get all messy,” you always seemed to have an itch on your face whenever your hands were indisposed, so you quickly swiped the back of your hand over your nose, getting a streak of flour there. Then you started working the dough into a slightly more malleable form. 

“You have some...” Arthur touched his own nose while looking at you, grinning.

“What?”

Arthur reached forward and flicked the flour off with his finger.

“Oho, thanks,” you smiled and got more flour onto your hands patting it onto the top of the dough before you swiftly reached up and pinched Arthur’s nose briefly, getting it coated with flour, as well. You laughed.

“Why?” was all Arthur said, clearly good-humored.

You kept giggling and shrugged, “I dunno, your nose is big.”

“My nose is big?” he reacted more outlandishly than you thought he would, making you laugh more. 

“Yeahahah.”

“I don’t think it’s that big,” he defended, wiping the flour from his nose.

You were busy rolling out the dough when you added, “Well, I think it works out. You gotta have a big nose to fit that red clown nose onto it,” and you laughed at your own joke more, even if it didn’t make any sense, “Oh my god, you should do your clown makeup with all cooking ingredients one day. Lihihike, like... flour for your face-- or whipped cream! You can just stick your face into whipped cream or something-- H-Hey! Arthur!” you were cut off when Arthur had come near you and started to pinch at your side. It was clearly meant to tickle.

“You’re so funny,” Arthur said honestly, “Especially when it’s at my expense,” he teased and continued to prod and squeeze. You tried to keep your hands on the rolling pin but that was failing fast.

“Arthur, wahahait!” you started to sink down onto the kitchen floor. Arthur took pity and he chuckled, stopping and pulling you to your feet instead.

“Dohon’t do that again,” you warned him, shooting him a look, but you were smiling so he knew you weren’t actually mad at him.

“Okay,” Arthur conceded easily and then added, “I’ll just do it again when you start talking about putting ketchup all over my lips next.”

That made you snort and you patted the dough once more, “Finished,” you reached across Arthur and grabbed the cookie cutter, “Press this all over the dough. It’ll make us nice round cookies,” you went and got the baking tray while Arthur was tasked with cookie cutting. 

Pretty soon, all the cookies were cut and laid out on trays. Then you slid them into the oven. 

“Nice,” you said, feeling proud of your work together. There was a moment of silence, of peacefulness, and you really enjoyed it. 

You scratched your nose again with not totally clean hands, not even looking at Arthur when you said, “Maybe blueberry jam for the eye makeup...”

And that was it. 

You squeaked and ran out of the kitchen when you saw Arthur immediately come towards you, with a clear mischievous intention. It was a futile effort; maybe because you weren’t fast enough, or maybe because you actually wanted to get caught. But Arthur had wrapped both arms around your waist, snagged you, and lifted you up as he plopped you onto the couch. My god was this man strong. You were already giggling by the time he straddled you. 

“Arthur, no no no no, wahait, I’m sorry--- WAIT!” you shrieked when he started to tickle your belly and sides with those stupid long, nimble fingers of his. 

“You never told me you were ticklish,” was what Arthur decided to say. 

“N-Never came up!” you started cackling when he went for pinching your ribs.

Arthur was swooning at the sight of you below him, red-faced, squirming, practically crying with laughter. 

“Nohohot fair! This isn’t FAIR!” you yipped and arched your back when he experimentally squeezed at your hip bone.

Arthur’s fingers were working of their own accord by this point, as his eyes were trained on your lovely face. Your hands would occasionally come down to swat at his attacking ones, but mostly they were clung to your chest. And Arthur felt such pride in the fact that he was eliciting this musical laughter from you, no other reason. 

Finally, he relented. His hand didn’t move from its place at your side but it had stopped tickling. You panted and coughed, letting your residual giggles die down. You felt his hand flinch, and you shot yours to it, “Noho more,” you breathed, gripping Arthur’s hand in your own. 

Arthur was past the point of smiling at you. He was staring at you with those big eyes of his and you finally wiped the tears in your eyes away enough to see him. He looked beautiful. You saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and his eyes flickered to your lips.

You leaned up to give him permission and he was on you in an instant, kissing you so tenderly. You lifted one hand up and rested it on Arthur’s waist, and your other hand was touching his jaw. 

Everything was beautiful about this day. It started with the weather. Then the coincidence of running into Arthur, his free schedule, and your desire to be with him all lined up. Cookie baking turned into a one-sided tickle fight. And now here was this beautiful, beautiful man, inside and out, kissing your lips and your jawline and your neck on your couch, flour and sugar still making both of your hands sticky and your mouths taste sweet. You had both of your hands now cradling the back of Arthur’s neck, lightly tracing the base of his neck with your nails. Your lips were close to his ear, and you could hear him breathing. You pressed a few tiny kisses along his cheek. Then Arthur spoke. 

“I can smell the cookies.”

And a smile bloomed on your face.

[msmoonfire]

How to prep for Lammas ❂

I know witchy fellas, it’s boiling hot & sunny out there. But we gotta put it in the effort. All together. Till the end. Till Lammas.

Briefly explained, Lammas or ‎Lughnasadh opens the harvest season around August 1st and our ancestors would know the perfect timing of it by watching the rise of the star Sirius at the dawn after a long while not showing. This sabbat originated by the Celts whom used to propitiate Lugh to ensure sunny weather and a fruitful harvest. He was their god of Light, excellently proficient in all arts & protector of thieves, travelers and merchants.  Moving to the southern areas, this celebration was still existing in a more earthy practical variant: mother Earth, plants, fresh produce, seeds and grains were the actual focus. These other people couldn’t care less about Lugh. They only cared about showing gratitude to Nature as a whole, often by baking the first LOAF MASS of the season (Lammas, a bread loaf) after months of summer break - we should stop baking at home from Beltane day till Lammas day, unless we’re home-based bakers and do that for a living;)

So, as usual, in this post I’m going to give you tips & ideas to prep for august 1st. Which means these are not things you should do on the very day, but BEFORE. Don’t rush last minute darlings. We can do this. 

Let’s get readayyyy. ✽

1. Local farmers’ markets should become a routine. Ok, hands down we all need the supermarket to survive on a daily basis but you can surely minimize your shopping list, so you can go buy fresh produce at some farmers’ market. Buy organic stuff there, not at the mall. This is a good easy way to re-establish a direct contact with Earth and welcome earthy energies into your life. Plus, it’s going to be a refreshing walk every time.

2. Improve the lighting in your house/room. Besides Samhain, this is by far the best time of the year to purchase new lamps, led lights, lanterns; fix bulbs that are out, remove useless/broken curtains, buy candles, add fairy lights everywhere etc... Being a metaphor of the sunny weather, daylight and artificial lighting in general must be of primary importance in your environment. Enhance natural lighting during the day, set up a nice and diffused lowlight illumination system at night. Don’t forget your backyard ‘cause...

3. You should take good care of your garden. I don’t care how busy you are, we all have at least 5 spare minutes to trim out dead leaves from our plants. If you own a piece of land or have a rather big veg garden, please don’t forget about it. Pay special attention to your plants/trees, do a little bit of cleaning every day, pick what’s ripe, cut out dead leaves, get creative with your lawn mower, water the vases, work the ground... The goal is to have a beautiful, curated garden by august 1st. But if you don’t have a garden or similar...

3.2. Buy your fav aromatic plant & look after it. Choose herbs that you prefer adding to your meals (if you’re a diy pro or make your own soaps etc.. feel free to use that fragrant plant in your products), so that you’ll be able to use it quite often without forcing yourself. I personally do it with basil. Basil is my daily go-to, I love its smell and taste. Again, the goal is to buy a plant in July and prove to Mother Nature that you can nurture it properly until at least august 1st. Get in touch with the “green world” and upgrade your basic skills. In other words...

4. Try to excel in every project/activity you start. Remember what you read earlier? Blame Lugh for this one. Lammas day is like a test: if you want Nature to be by your side during harvest time, you must earn its trust through proving that you’re able to achieve great results - because you’re a hard worker.  July is about learning, attending classes, practicing, studying. My advice would be to not start a bunch of random projects now: be picky and commit to only one or a few. Be honest with yourself, modest with timing and consistent in everyday practice so that in august you’ll be skilled enough to unleash your best potential. This is your time to shine!

5. Do your research on baking bread. Yes, exactly. Read recipes, articles, books etc... On Lammas day you want to have fun baking your first bread loaf of the season, so you’d better be prepared. It’s a fun experience even if you’re not a pro baker, at least you can try a new hobby to fill your free morning/evening. But baking a beautifully decorated, tasty, fragrant bread loaf would take Lammas to the next level though.

If you don’t own an oven, purchase a small electric one for less than 50$. It’ll be useful to cook other foods in the future without stressing the hell out of your microwave. 

*for our celiac fellas*: grains and gluten are clearly off-limits for you. However, Lammas’ celebration involves CORN as well. Try to make your gluten-free dough with corn flour, rice flour or other ingredients that are suitable for you. Focaccia, polenta and pizza doughs are also suitable for the occasion.

6. Include apples, grapes and corn in you cosmetics or in your diet. Since these fruits are in season, why not take heed of their benefits? Simply buy things like apple shampoo, grape lip balm, apple snacks, grape masks... A BAG OF CRISPY POP CORN...These are valid examples. You have a wide range of choice, you’ve got the powahhh.

7. Grab a book and a glass of Albariño/Pinot Noir/Rosé. That’s how you pamper yourself before Lammas. A rocking chair in the garden, proper lighting for reading, a cushion, your fav book and a glass of fine wine. 

Alternatively, you can elegantly snack on grapes or sip some super refreshing apple juice from a chic crystal goblet!

8. Develop a grounding routine. For those who are new to the grounding concept, I’ll break it down real quick. We’re always moving, on the go, running, rushing, driving, working out, traveling, walking, cleaning, fidgeting, passively entertained, distracted by screens or social media etc... The practice of grounding promotes the exact opposite to reach inner balance and fulfillment. Basically, it’s very good to be swift and active, but being incapable of sitting still while quietly dealing with ourselves is a huge, major problem. Imagine rooting yourself into the soil: you can lay down or sit comfortably on the ground without a mat and really feel the Earth underneath. Close your eyes, breathe deeply, choose a meditation method that you like, visualize yourself being as static and peaceful as a tree... Or simply be. You’ll find a way to contemplate these OFFLINE moments away from photos, screens, sounds, people... This routine should take 10-20 minutes of your day. Make sure it takes place in nature, or alternatively in places where there’s actual grass, ground or nearby your (aromatic) plants so you can touch them if you need to.

9. Get creative with corn magic and corn art. Lammas has a solid tradition of corn use for various purposes. As you’re prepping for the big day, start featuring corn kernel/cobs in your magic. If you don’t practice - which is totally fine - carry a small amulet bag with corn inside with you. If you’re an artist or crafter, paint the kornel or use cobs for artwork!

10. Be out in the sunlight, sun bathe or simply breathe fresh air, get outside, enjoy all things outdoors :)

Hope this was helpful and inspirational fo you all, good luck and happy Lammas darlings.

Floods of love,  msmoonfire (IG: @msmoonfire)

[howrry]

once in a lifetime

a/n: sorry for the hiatus, i can’t find the strain i used earlier this year that led me to churn out a ton of writing so this was a little painstaking. here’s older!harry. bon appetit

warning: do i even gotta warn you that there’s smut? nc-17

w/c: 4.5k

***

Harry's life post-fame was, well, not so great.

His stardom, in his eyes, appeared to have no end. His friends and family had expressed concerns all throughout his career that he was peaking too early, but it seemed that life only got better. More music, meeting more of his idols, more new fans and more arenas sold out before his eyes.

Unfortunately, he noticed that as he got older, his body just wasn't accustomed to the touring, drugs, and partying like it was in his youth. He had a heart-to-heart with himself and realized that his best option was to retire, which he did in his late 30's.

He even got married, to an elementary school teacher named Grace. One of his friends had set him up with her on a blind date and he liked how predictable and simple she and her life were. She was such a nice change from the hecticness of his life before, and ended up engaged after only 9 months of dating (much to his fans' dismay).

But sadly, all that glitters is not gold. After less than three years of marriage, Harry and Grace seemed to be fighting more often than they got along. They argued over everything in the books; money, physical absence, their families, substance abuse, sex, the idea of having kids, the idea of not having kids, commitment, the list went on. Eventually it was clear that Harry was much more invested in the relationship than she, which devastated him. Regardless, he pushed on.

One night, when the air in his household was thicker than molasses, Harry went into the master bedroom of his home. He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped his trousers. He climbed into bed where Grace was reading a novel. She didn't move, or look over, or even acknowledge that her husband had joined her.

"Grace?" he asked softly. Still no reaction.

He was scared. Sure, he and his wife fought plenty, but as of late, she barely spoke five words to him.

"Please," he begged, reaching out and delicately placing a hand on her forearm. "We don't have to do anything but please talk t'me. Something is clearly wrong. We haven't even spoken or had sex in w—"

"Is that all that matters to you? God, Harry, think with your other head for a change," Grace snapped, closing her book and yanking her arm away. She stood up out of bed and H heard her footsteps all the way downstairs. The telltale slam of the basement door indicated that she'd be sleeping in the guest room and he would be alone for the night. Again.

Harry's head dropped back down onto the pillow. He wasn't much of a confrontational person and hated these conflicts they had. Harry closed his eyes tight and hoped as hard as he could that the yelling and the ignoring and the disinterest would end.

And in some twisted way, he got his wish, because a week later, Grace slapped half-signed divorce papers in front of him on the breakfast table. She wouldn't entertain any sort of reconciliation; she just wanted to be separated.

The divorce was brutal. The soft, kind woman H had married just a couple years ago was gone and replaced with a cold, unloving person who wanted nothing to do with him.

As if the whole process in and of itself wasn't bad enough, Harry didn't realize that Grace would be getting the house until far too late into the separation. Her lawyer even patronized Harry-- you're an ex-rock star, I'm sure you can find a place to go. If it weren't for Liam providing him a place to stay in the meantime of finding a house, he really doesn't know what he would've done.

***

Harry knocked on Liam's door, hat in hand, and was greeted by his old friend who pulled him into a hug.

"It's been too long, mate," Liam noted, before guiding Harry into his home.

"Y/N, get down here!" Liam called, and seconds later she bounded down the stairs.

It had been ages since he'd seen Liam's daughter, Y/N. The last time he'd been around Li and his family, she'd been 14 and was in the moody teenage stage, but she was so different now. She was taller and her hair was longer, and she'd filled out quite nicely judging by how well her tennis skirt fit her--

Whoa, he caught himself. That's his friend's daughter. What was wrong with him?!

"Show Harry to the guest room," Liam told her, shaking H from his terrible thoughts. "Until then, I'll pour us some scotch and we can catch up," he said to Harry before heading off to the lounge.

Harry followed Y/N upstairs and down the hallway to the plain yet comfortable room. She opened the door and gestured for him to go inside, tossing her hair and lazily swinging the door behind her-- not quite letting it shut, though.

"Sorry that it's not exactly Caesar's Palace," she joked. "Since Mom died, my dad just let the importance of interior design slip away."

Harry waved her concerns away, setting his bag on the bed. "Nonsense. This was really nice of you two-- I'd sleep on a couch if I had to." She giggled at this before turning towards him.

Y/N looked up at Harry and gave him the look. It wasn't one he'd seen since his younger days, when girls and guys alike in clubs wanted to bed him for the social status. They lowered their eyelids slightly, cocked their head, and the corner of their mouth would tug up a bit in the hopes that it would make him immediately swoon. It never worked on H because he wasn't stupid, but he still recognized it to this day. Harry had no option except to match her eye contact, as he didn't trust himself to not let his eyes wander down to her V-neck.

Before he could say or do anything, Y/N breezed past him. "Dinner will be ready in thirty," she noted, brushing her hand down his arm as she left the guest room.

What the fuck?

Harry went back downstairs to join Liam and his two snifters on the table. His daughter was nowhere in sight, so he assumed she was in the kitchen. Liam droned on about how he was doing (probably in an attempt to take H's mind off his divorce) but, frankly, Harry wasn't really listening.

There's no way Y/N is trying to seduce him. No way. He's just... not been with a woman in a long time and is a little rusty with the signs. I mean, get real. He's almost 40 and she's, what, 18? 19? What would she want to do with him?

Dinner ended up being fajitas, good comfort food. Halfway through the dinner, though, Y/N innocuously gave up on using a tortilla and ate the filling with her hands. In any other scenario, Harry would find this to be in poor taste, but the way she made eye contact with H while licking the seasoning off her fingers made him forget all about table manners.

"... and the pap actually followed me into the locker room of my gym! I ripped him a new one. Yelling about how I haven't made music in a decade and left the band twice that much time age, and when they'll ever leave me alone. On the bright side, I think I flipped the bird in enough of his shots that none of them saw the light of day!" Liam had been telling a story which H had completely zoned out from, but luckily caught on to the part meant to be a joke. All three of them laughed together, though only one was genuine.

***

Harry couldn't fall asleep.

It didn't have any natural explanation; he didn't have any caffeine after three, he had a nightcap with Liam, and the finalization of the divorce should've led to him getting more sleep, right? Nonetheless, after hours of tossing and turning, he'd essentially given up and resorted to watching the fan lazily spin around. A sudden knock on his door spooked him, and when the door creaked open, Y/N's head popped in.

"Hey, Harry?" she asked softly.

"Yeah?" he grunted, sitting up. "'S everything alright?"

She entered without permission and sat on the edge of his bed. In the light of the bright moon outside he could see she was in a sheer white gown that just barely reached her mid-thigh. Scandalous. "Couldn't sleep."

"Same boat," he admitted, leaning back on his elbows. Her face was bare, clean of the makeup she'd had on earlier. She looked so fresh and healthy and her white nightgown gave her skin a sun-kissed appearance

Y/N sighed, her eyes wandered over his entire body, or at least all she could gather in the dark room. "Can I ask you a question?" she started, a delicate hand creeping on Harry's knee. "It's kind of... personal."

He swallowed thickly. Was it bad that just her hand on his leg made his cock twitch? "O'course. What's up?"

Y/N pursed her lips before releasing them and darting her tongue out and in. "You've had lots of sex, right?"

And he nearly choked on his own breath. She's so... straight to the point. He managed to keep his cool and nodded carefully. Where was she going with this?

"Well... I haven't," she continued, her hand sliding up his thigh just a little. "I've been seeing this guy, and he's great and all, but he's not too good in bed. I wanna do things with a man who knows what he's doing before I go back to the losers my age who... don't. Would you show me what it's like?" Her soft eyes lifted to meet his, and he couldn't believe his ears.

"Y/N... I-I don't know." Harry rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, as if to make sure he wasn't hallucinating this whole thing. It took him a bit to appreciate that she really had been trying to seduce him and he wasn't just going crazy.

He thought over it for a second. "It seems so wrong. I mean, the age gap is one thing, and your dad is another, but if you're already in a relationship I just...," he trailed off, not quite finishing his point and scanning your smirking face.

"He'll never know," she shrugged casually. "Not Alex or my dad. It's just a one time thing and it won't happen again."

He dragged a hand down his face, thinking over her proposition. At first glance, the cons of possibly getting caught greatly outweighed the pros. How many moral guidelines would he be breaking if he took her up on her offer? On the other hand, he hasn't had sex in what felt like ages, and when would he get this kind of chance again? He was getting up there in age and, despite his ex-star status, likely wouldn't have an attractive young woman throwing themselves at him ever again.

Fuck it.

"I- alright. What did you have in mind?" Harry's cock was starting to harden in his pants and he prayed that the angle his knee was at was hiding it.

Y/N smiled delightfully. "That's why I came to you. I don't just wanna do stuff, I want to learn. You show me."

Harry was gonna die from this girl. "Fuck, pet, you're gonna wreck me. Do you wanna... I don't know, start by sucking me off?"

"Yes please," she whispered, and there was officially zero blood left in any other part of his body.

"C'mere then." She clambered over the bed and his legs until they were face to face. He cupped her face in his big hands and connected their lips. Her lips were so soft and he wasted no time deepening the kiss followed by flicking the tip of his tongue on hers.

She pulled back to breathe. "You're fucking good at that," she blurted.

He smiled-- couldn't help it. "Then we should keep doing it," he suggested. They giggled together and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They continued making out, Harry leaning back until Y/N was laying on top of him.

One of her hands crept down to feel him in his boxers, cupping his erection. He moaned into her mouth, and she popped off his lips, making a juicy sound. She shifted down and toyed with his waistband before hesitating.

"I've only done this once, so..." she started, eyes avoiding him, "you may need to show me what to do."

"S'alright, pet," he soothed, cusping her chin and bringing her to make eye contact with him.

He sat back and took his boxers off, fleetingly embarrassed at his already-hard cock. It subsided when Y/N's eyes landed on it and her mouth actually dropped open. He grinned and took himself in his hand, pulling the foreskin down and swirling the precum around the tip. "See something y'like?"

She nodded and dropped down to be level with his member. "It's... big." Y/N gently took his cock and leaned in next to it to compare the size to her face. "How am I supposed to fit this all in me?" she asked innocently.

He groaned. "You sure y're new to this? Cause y're doing pretty damn well so far and y'haven't even gotten y'mouth on me."

She smiled and dragged the flat of her tongue from base to tip, making his head roll back. "Perfect, love. Act like you're trying to keep melting ice cream from getting everywhere." Y/N nodded.

Her tongue worked over every inch of him before finally attaching her lips to the head. She delicately sucked before getting the nerve to push down further. H's hand tangled in the hair on the back of her head and her mouth instantly became softer and over half of his cock slid between her lips.

"Fuck," he bit, emphasizing the K. Y/N liked hearing him swear because of what she was doing and was only spurred on. Maybe she was a little too excited, because she went a little too far down and came up coughing up a storm.

"Careful, doll," he cooed, rubbing her back as she regained her cool. "Do it at your own pace, not what you think I'd want." She nodded, teary eyes meeting his dark ones.

When his cock bumped at her lips again, she spit on it before going back to her comfort level. Her small hands gripped his base, where she couldn't fit her mouth. She acted like she didn't care how much of a mess she made and Harry thought it was so fucking hot. Her head lifted and lowered in his lap, obscenities slipping from H's mouth.

It got to a point where Harry was involuntarily bucking into her mouth, and he knew he was about to overwhelm her. If he kept letting her blow him, he'd cum down her throat any minute. "Fuck, love," he groaned, pulling her off him by her hair. "I think it's about time for your turn."

Y/N pouted for a second and he almost snapped. Her lips were puffy from sucking his cock, her eyes were watery, and her cheeks were pink and it took so much in him to not shove himself back into her soft mouth.

But she nodded and allowed him to pull the nightie off her body, exposing her breasts to him. He resisted impulsively grabbing at them as she rolled back onto the bed, hair fanning out below her. He climbed up and kissed her, tasting himself on her lips. He dragged his own mouth down her jaw and neck, past her collarbones and attached onto her nipple. One of his hands toyed with her other breast and her back arched beneath his body.

"Stay still," he ordered, breath ghosting over her skin. To further assert this, his free hand pressed her body back down onto the bed. She complied, but let heavenly noises slip from her.

Harry continued trailing down her body until he reached her white panties, which he grabbed with his teeth and dragged down her legs. He used his hands to get them off the rest of the way and spread her legs, exposing all of her to him. "So gorgeous," he said, almost to himself.

"Do you touch yourself?" he asked, eyes flicking up to meet hers.

Her cheeks were a soft pink, bashful at the sudden eye contact. "Yes," ghosted out of her mouth.

"What do you think about?"

Y/N pursed her lips momentarily. "Getting eaten out," she whispered. "No one's ever done it to me, but I bet it feels great."

Harry laughed at this, and placed two of his fingers on her clit. They dragged down her core to her already-wet hole and slowly made their way back up. His pressure was so light, yet her heightened sensitivity had her head roll back. "Go on," he hummed.  

Y/N sucked air through her teeth but obeyed. "Sometimes in porn, they 69 and I think that's so hot," she rushed out. "Like, both are getting pleased and moaning into the other--oh God," she whimpered when he momentarily dipped his middle finger inside her, only to pull it right back out.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Y'watch porn, hmm?"

It was Y/N's turn to smirk. "Everyone does." H pressed his finger slightly harder against her button and her back arched involuntarily.

His free hand pushed her back down again. "I said to stay still," he muttered, face hardening for a moment. "What else do you like to see?"

She gnawed on her bottom lip. "When they fuck missionary, I think it's really sweet when they make eye contact, but..." she trailed off.

"But what?" Harry pushed on, dipping his middle and index finger in this time.

"But... but I like when he fucks her from behind more. And it's really rough. And the girls cums all over his cock." Y/N exhaled, closing her eyes.

"Fuck, love, you're filthy," he noted. Harry spread her open and paid exclusive attention to her swollen clit, making her gasp as his rough fingers circled and flicked over it.

It was almost too much-- she was so sensitive she couldn't help but grab at his wrist to try and stop his actions. This finally got him impatient. He gripped her hand and huffed darkly, "Grab at me again and I'll tie you to this bed." Y/N's eyes were wide as saucers but her hands retreated and she allowed him to continue playing with her.

Without warning, H plunged his first two fingers into her down to his knuckles. He drew circles with his fingertips inside her pussy, stretching her open while stimulating every angle. Every four or five rotations, he hooked his fingers up to press against the spongey spot that had her whimpering and shaking.

"F-feels so good, Harry," she whined, struggling not to touch him and desperate for more. Her head tossed from side to side, as if to hide her moans and contorting face.

"Yeah?" he purred. "Y'like feeling m'fingers buried inside your tight little cunt?" Y/N nodded, slightly grinding her hips down. He allowed this, thumbing at her clit as she grabbed at the sheets.

Harry drew his fingers from her, and she groaned at the suddenly empty feeling. "Shh, love. Let's try something new." Her eyes confusedly begged for an explanation.

As soon as he uttered that number, Y/N's face brightened, she moved to let him lay on the bed and climbed so that her core was just above his face. She took his member in her hand as he grabbed at her ass with his big hands. The two of them dove into the other with carnal ferocity. Harry ate her like she was water in a desert, and this angle allowed his cock to slip right down her throat. The two devoured the other until the only sounds in the room were the slick noises of their own arousal and their muffled moans.

Y/N had never experienced this kind of raw pleasure before. He circled his tongue around her clit and, at the same time, pushed two fingers into her. She began to get a little greedy and pushed back against his face. He encouraged this, taking his fingers from her and wrapping his arms around her thighs and pulling her back on him. It wasn't long before she couldn't even focus on him anymore and virtually began riding his tongue. Her wobbly arms straddled his torso as he continued eating her out with the sounds of her gasps mixing with his mouth on her wet peach.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna--" she stuttered before reaching her high. Harry's tongue dove even further into her, letting her ride out her orgasm on his face. Even after she'd finished, he continued to lick into her.

Y/N rolled off his face and away from him. When he reached for her, she kept him at a distance with her arm extended. "I'm so... so..."

"Sensitive," he finished in a breath. She fell back onto the bed and he hovered over her. "When you come down, I want to be inside you."

Her jaw dropped at his boldness, but truthfully it was exactly what she wanted. After a few moments of her catching her breath, she laid back down on the bed and Harry towered over her. He caught glimpses of nervousness and leaned down to kiss her.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked, breath ghosting over her skin.

She shook her head. "No, but I'm not that... y'know..." Her eyes closed as she trailed off but Harry understood.

"Shh, s'alright. I'll be gentle," he promised. He lined himself up with her hole. "Are y'sure you want this?" he asked, just in case.

"Yes, please," she whined, and once given the green light, he inhaled sharply before gently pushing himself forward. The few seconds it took to fit his whole cock in her were perhaps the longest moments of his life. She was just so fucking tight, he had to count backwards from 100 to keep from harshly snapping his hips into hers.

Before he knew it, he looked down and his entire cock was buried in her cunt. He didn't dare move, allowing her to adjust before he really took off. It was so snug he thought he was about to go blind. Even with all they had already done, he still felt some level of disgust with himself.

Nonetheless, he couldn't stop.

She clenched around him, trying to hide her grimace. He leaned down to coo in her ear, "Shh, baby, take your time." H carefully kissed around her jaw and rubbed his hands up and down the sides of her body while continuing to stay still until she whimpered out one lone word. Move.

He straightened up again and reeled his hips back, revealing his cock now glistening. Harry pushed it back into her slowly causing her jaw to go slack and a soft moan to escape.

What really was the cherry on top for her was just the raw feeling of a cock inside her. The drag of it retreating and thrusting back into her, the empty feeling it left on the backstrokes, the tip pressing against the one spot inside her leaving her speechless. Sure, she'd played with herself and some boys had had the privilege of filling her with their fingers and whatnot, but nothing in her life had compared to a grown man stretching out her cunt with his thick cock.

Harry was shamelessly staring at himself disappearing into her walls and Y/N grinned. "Y'like watching yourself fuck this young cunt, hmm?" she teased, one hand grabbing the bedding and the other digging into his bicep.

"You've got a dirty mouth, y'little minx," he gritted out, a hand snaking up and gripping her throat as he continued fucking into her.

A devious smile crept up on her face, both frightening Harry and making his cock twitch. "Flip... me... over," she begged, voice straining through Harry's fist around her neck.

He nodded and pulled his cock from her. He moved back on the bed to allow her to lay on her stomach. Harry grabbed her hips and yanked her up on her knees and rubbed the tip of his cock up and down her slit to collect her arousal.

She arched her back and turned her head so that she could watch him fuck her. Her fingers clenched the sheets as he pressed the tip against her entrance before slowly sliding himself in again. Every thrust pushed her further into the pillows before he finally gave up and grabbed her by her hair, pulling her up so that her back was flush with his chest. The hand not tangled in her hair snaked around the front of her body for stability as he continued roughly fucking her.

He released her hair and brought the hand around to dip his fingers into her mouth. "Get 'em nice and wet, doll," he ordered and she complied, licking and sucking at his fingers until they were soaked. He trailed this hand down to her clit and began rubbing circles without breaking his rhythm.

Both of them were getting nearer to their orgasm, evident by Y/N's legs starting to shake beneath her and Harry's thrust becoming more and more erratic. "I'm g-na cum a-gain," Y/N choked out.

"Jus' a bit more, darling, and I'll fill your little pussy up," he hissed into her ear, which only made the both of them closer. Soon Y/N cried out so loud Harry had to smack a hand over her mouth, and his hips awkwardly stuttered as both of them came.

He drew himself out and both of them collapsed on the bed to catch their breath. Neither of them knew what to say or even think about what just happened.

Y/N shakily sat up after catching her breath."I can't stay here, or I'll fall asleep and my dad will catch us in the morning," she noted. "Thank you for that, Harry."

He snorted. "I should be thanking you. I haven't cum that hard in a long time."

She didn't respond, and it was quiet in the room for a few moments before Y/N finally broke the silence. "I think I have to break up with Alex," she muttered, slipping the nightgown back over her head and going to the door.

Panicked, Harry sat up on his elbows with his eyebrows furrowed. "What? Why?" His mind raced. Did she now regret doing this and felt guilty, maybe? Had he just made a huge mistake?

She stopped at the door, her hand on the knob, and turned to him. "Because every time I'm gonna be with him in the future, I'm gonna be thinking about what just happened," she explained with a grin before leaving and closing the door behind her.

If it weren't for the mind-blowing sex he'd just had and the sound of the fan soothing him to sleep, he probably wouldn't have let her leave.

[queencocoakimmie]

Just Us (Jim Mason)

Jim Mason X Female Reader

Word Count: +6000 

Warnings: Angst, talk of suicide, smut, unprotected sex, drug use.

A/N: So, Surprise! If you know me, you know that I love Cody’s character, Jim Mason. I think I’ve seen The Tribes of Palos Verdes so many times, and it always leaves me feeling so brokenhearted. I’ve always wanted to give him a different ending, maybe even a happier one. This fic runs along the same theme as the movie, except it diverges in the middle. I changed a couple of characters and some big parts. The Real Estate Agent (Ava) that Phil (the twins’ dad) falls in love with, has a son in the movie, but in this fic, she actually has a daughter, our protagonist. It gets really deep for a bit. The girl suffered a big loss in her life and her memories of it are pretty raw. Anyway, I hope that you like it. Here we go.

           Life in Palos Verdes was boring. Every day was literally the same thing over and over. School, the country club, this fucking house. It was all so monotonous. I hated it here and longed to be away, maybe someplace new. New York? Miami? Mexico? The only thing that I loved about this place was the beach. It’s like the ocean would call my name and beg me to go out there and sketch it. It was all around us, and it was mine.

           I would stare out of my window for hours, it would seem and daydream about moving away from everyone. From her. My relationship with my mother was complicated at best. At worst? I hated that bitch and she hated me. She was your typical Palos Verdes sheep. They all played tennis in their tight, little green tennis outfits, trying to bag the next rich guy or fuck the towel boy. They would gossip in the club’s restaurant and be drunk by noon. Every time there was a new member, they’d swarm them like sharks at a feeding frenzy. I hated them.

Ava (my mom) would always try to get me to hang around with them and maybe go on dates with their sons. Seriously? What would I want with them? They all looked the same. Like they all came out of the same lame factory or something.

Then one night, she dragged me to some party at the club. “We have a new family to welcome”, she said. Like I cared. “Honey, they have a son and a daughter, maybe you’ll hit it off with them. I sold them a house, isn’t that funny? The kids’ father seems so…nice.” Dear God, I knew that twinkle in her eye. She thought he was attractive. I feel sorry for his wife, against my piranha of a mother, she’ll stand no chance.

The party was like everything else here, bland and full of middle-aged rich people, trying to be cool. I saw some kids from school and waved to them. But I had zero interest in talking to any of them. It was enough that I saw them at school during the day, but here? Now? Nope. I wanted to get away. Take a midnight swim. Sketch some doodles by the water. Forget about my life for a few hours.

I saw the pack descend on the new family. There were people all over them, I couldn’t even get a good look at them. All I could hear were people saying how good looking a family they were. How nice they seemed. Great, another group of social climbers, as if we didn’t already have enough. I had to leave.

I walked outside onto the lanai and felt the cool breeze from the water roll off my skin. The air was clean and fresh, not like other places. I could taste the salt in the air when I opened my mouth. The DJ put on some 90’s hip-hop and I started to sway to it. It reminded me of my dad. He loved 90’s music. God, I miss him.

“Hey” I heard a small voice from behind me say. I turn to see a pretty blond girl who looks a bit lost. “Hey,” I say back. She stands next to me and we both look out at the ocean. We don’t say a word to each other. It’s like…it’s like we just understand. Is that weird?

After a few minutes of silence, I say, “My name is Kassidy, but people just call me Kass.” She nods her head. But, before she can tell me her name, she sees her mom and takes off without saying a word. I call after her, “Nice to meet you.” She turns back to wave then continues walking over to her mother.

It’s a curious sight watching the two of them. The mom was sitting there smoking all by herself. The girl walks over to her and sits next to her on the steps. They’re actually talking to each other. I wish I had that with my mom. After dad died, our relationship was never the same. She didn’t talk to me for a while, she said that I looked too much like him and it hurt her to see me. As if that was my fault.

I see them both look off into the distance and I follow their gaze. I see Heather has caught another boy in her web. He’s cute and a bit dorky. He’s wearing a sombrero, with a white shirt and tie. Totally not Heather’s type. He has a nice smile, though.

No longer wanting to stick around, I leave the party, without my mother. What’s the worst the could happen? I get grounded? Big deal. I’d rather walk along the beach anyway, alone. I look back and see the mom and daughter still talking. Tears sting my eyes. Ava and I would never be like that. There’s too much baggage there. In two years, I’ll be 18, then I’ll go wherever I want. Do whatever I want. I’ll be away from her and this place.

At school the next day, I see the new girl at the lunch table by herself. I contemplate walking over there to sit with her because she seems lonely. Instead, I join my friends, if that’s what you would call them. They’re in mid-conversation about the new kids. “She’s weird. Her brother is over there with them and she’s sitting by herself?” “What a freak!” I shake my head, “Guys, you don’t even know her, chill.” They laugh and call me sensitive. “It’s gotta be hard coming here from another place. We’ve been in Palos Verdes our whole lives. It’s gotta be a culture shock.” They nod their heads in agreement and then start talking about plans for the weekend. I look back over to her and feel her sadness. She’s staring at her brother. He seemed to fit right in with everybody. Ugh, Heather is sitting on the edge of the table, flirting heavily with him. I roll my eyes. I hate that girl.

In class, I say hi to her as I pass her desk. She looks up at me and smiles, “hey”.  I sit at the desk next to her and get my books and pencils out. “My name’s Medina. I didn’t get to tell you the other night.” I smile at her. She seems like a sad soul. Kind of like me.

After school is over, I wait for my mom on the steps of the school and see her and her brother ride off on their bikes. I wish I could go with them, they look so happy. What I would give to have that. If only my dad were here…

One night, I overheard Ava on the phone with some man, making plans for the night. It makes me sick to my stomach. Here she goes again. Pretty soon, she’ll come up and tell me to get lost, go stay at friend’s house, so she can have some privacy. I leave before she comes to knock on my door. I run out to the beach and strip off my clothes. My tears mixing with the salty water. I sob into the waves. My lonely mother, stalking her prey, like a hungry animal. She can’t have her own happiness, so she’s going to take someone else’s. It’s not fair.

I swim until my arms are sore. I can’t do this anymore. I contemplate drowning myself right here and now, to escape the pain. But, a memory of my dad flashes through my mind. He’s laughing and teaching me how to swim. We were so happy then. It’s been so long since he’s been gone, that I’ve begun to forget his voice. He had such sad eyes. Like Medina, like Jim. I drag myself out of the water and dry myself off. I go home to pack an overnight bag. I’ll have to find a place to sleep tonight.

I text Medina. She says come right over. We all stay up late that night. Laying on the floor, me, her and Jim. Talking about moving to Bali or Fiji, getting away from here. Jim rubs my back and I feel a tingle go down my spine. Medina throws a pillow at me and laughs. We all end up falling asleep on the floor of Medina’s room, wrapped up in each other’s arms. I wish I could freeze this moment and keep it forever.

As time goes by, Medina, Jim and I spend more time together. Most of it is spent watching them surf, while I sketch them in my notebook. We laugh and talk about the future. What we want to do or hope to have. I can tell there is something just underneath the surface. A tension going on behind the scenes. There’s a real sadness that’s taken over the two of them. I want to ask, but I’m afraid.

Medina texted me one afternoon and told me to meet them at our usual spot. I rush out of the house and arrive to see a big group of people hanging out. I’m confused because the Bay Boys are there. I expected just the three of us, like always. The guys are passing beer and weed around, and pills too. I see Heather and she’s cornered, Jim. I watch helplessly as she reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss him. It hurts and I feel my heartbreak. I turn to see that Medina has seen it too. She looks at me in horror. She knew how I felt about him.

When it would be just me and her, she would tease me about how I looked at him, how I acted around him. “Medina, you’re insane. You guys are like my family. I don’t see him like that, he is like my brother.” She would roll her eyes and nod, “Yeah, ok Kass. I see things y’know.”

The sun goes down and they’re all high and drunk. Even Jim. His eyes glazed over and blissed out. He’s not acting like himself. I watch as he runs and jumps on the hood of someone’s car and hangs on as it drives around in circles. It’s not like him. I look over to Medina and she shakes her head. She doesn’t know what to do either. We get away from the group and find ourselves sitting together on the rocks watching the waves crash against the shore.  

“You should tell him, you know.” She breaks the silence. I don’t look at her, but I know what she’s talking about. “You should tell him that you’re in love with him. If you don’t, I will.” I sigh, “But Medina, he’s with Heather. I don’t want to break them up. I’d be just like Ava.” It hurts to say that out loud. I’ve never said that to anyone. I’ve never actually acknowledged what she had done to our family. “You can’t tell your heart what not to feel, Kass. You should just tell him.”

Medina calls me frantic one day. Her father told her that he’s fallen in love with someone else. That he has a new chance in life to have love. “How could he do this to us?” She screams over and over into the phone. When I get there, her and Jim are standing outside, hugging each other. I can still hear their mother screaming at their dad. It’s hard to hear because it reminds me of my parents. I grab them both and we all stand there, locked into this triangle embrace. I feel their loss. I’ve been through this before.

When my Dad found out that my mom was cheating on him. He flipped out and lost it. It really broke his heart. They argued and argued, and things never got better. After the divorce, I would still try to see him every day after school, but it got really tough. He was so sad all of the time. Until one day, I came to visit him and there were an ambulance and police cars outside. I tried to run to the condo, but they kept pushing me back. One of the neighbors came over to me and hugged me. She kept apologizing to me. I saw them roll the stretcher out of his condo. Realization and nausea hit me like a wave. It was him. It was my Dad.

I’m there long enough to hear my mom’s name come up in their parents’ argument and I crane my neck to hear what they’re saying. He said that he loves her and has a chance to be happy. She screams when she realizes that Ava is the Real Estate agent, they had dinner with a year ago, the one that sold them this house. Jim and Medina look at me and Medina says, “Isn’t that your mom?” I nod my head and we all just stand there in silence. We don’t know what to say to each other.

My phone buzzes as I see Phil’s car pull away from the house. It’s her, it’s Ava. I don’t answer. I know what she wants to tell me. I throw my phone into the sand. I hate her even more now.

Time passes and Phil has now moved into our house. It’s so disturbing to see him at the kitchen table in the morning. Sitting in the same spot my dad used to. He tries to talk to me, to reach out but I have nothing to say to him. I don’t want a “relationship” with him. Even if they are engaged. She scolds me for not speaking to my soon-to-be stepfather. Disgusting.

Medina and I have grown closer as we’ve grown apart from our parents. All we have is each other these days. Jim is growing more and more distant. When I see him now, he’s always so wasted. I’m worried about him. Medina tells me that she’s watching him spiral and she can’t do anything to stop it. Their mother, Sandy, is so deep into her depression, that she doesn’t even notice Jim’s change. She’s even begun to treat him like a husband instead of a son. She reminds me of my Dad when he started to lose himself.

A text in the middle of the night from Medina, makes me jump in my seat by the window. I have insomnia so at night when I can’t sleep, I draw. I was lost in concentration. Sketching the planes of Jim’s face from memory, when her frantic texts ping on my phone. She tells me to meet her at the hospital. When I get there, I find her sitting next to a sleeping Jim. He’s wearing a hospital gown, with tubes in his arms. She looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes. “He overdosed tonight. He almost died.” She cries. I feel myself get faint. My poor sweet Jim, laying there like an Angel. He looks so…

I walk over to him and touch his cheek and it’s cold. My heart is heavy because I know that he is struggling with so much inner turmoil. Trying to be strong for Medina. Trying to be supportive to Sandy. But who is there for him? Who can he turn to? He can’t lay all of his problems at his sister’s feet. My poor Jim is lost. But, not anymore, he has me. I lean forward and kiss his forehead and whisper in his ear, “I love you, James.”

Medina and I walk outside, arms around each other. Her mother looks at us both with so much spite. I’m almost certain that she hates not only me but Medina as well. We sit together in the waiting room all night. We make a promise to each other, from here on out, it’s just us. No more Sandy, Ava. No more Phil no more Heather. Just us.

It’s been months since that night. Jim hasn’t touched the drugs. We’ve stuck to our pact, even after Ava married their Dad. The night of my 17th birthday, they all planned a party at the country club. I didn’t want to go, but Medina convinced me. I knew that they were going to be there, so it made me feel better. I had shut myself off from the other people I used to hang out with. They were toxic and immature. Lately, my life seemed to revolve around the twins. At times, I thought that maybe we suffocated each other, but in all actuality, we needed each other. No one else understood loneliness like ours. My love for Jim grew by the minute. I was in love with every detail of him. His floppy hair that always fell into his eyes. The beauty marks that dotted his face and chest. His smile and the way he would laugh at my stupid jokes. Medina would beg me to tell him, he wasn’t with Heather anymore, so there’d be no excuse not to.

           She helped me pick out the dress I got for my party. We had gone into town that previous weekend to buy it. Jim didn’t want to go with us, he couldn’t stand shopping at girly stores. Instead, he went surfing. We worried so about him but he assured us that he would be safe. She picked out a pretty, pale pink sheath dress that fell like silk against my tanned skin. I secretly hoped that it would catch his eye and make him look at me differently.

           The party goes off without a hitch. The country club ballroom was cordoned off just for me. Ava and Phil stood over there in the middle of it all like it was their party. They were it new “it couple”, holding court for the masses. They see me and wave me over to them, to bask in adoration. These people are fake and clamoring for their attention. Half of them don’t even know me.

           After, all the glad-handing, I searched the crowd for the twins. I had started to get nervous until I saw Medina. Her head thrown back in laughter, she was talking to a boy. I remember her talking about him, a few weeks back. His name was Adrian. He was cute, with dark hair and long eyelashes. I watched as she touched his arm and he touched her hand. It made me smile to see her so happy. She deserved that. I kept looking through the crowd for Jim. But when I couldn’t find him and that little bit of pain grew in my heart, I left the ballroom to get away. I couldn’t let anyone see me cry. Today of all days.

When I reach the end of the hallway, I look around to make sure no one is there. I feel the tears well up and the sob begins to rip from my chest. Tonight, was the night I was going to tell him. I was going to tell him that I love him. I’ve loved him since the first time I saw him, with that silly sombrero on his head. I was going to tell him that I needed him more than a friend.

A hand touches my shoulder and I jump. “Hey, what are you crying for?” His voice, so sweet and smooth. I don’t want to face him, I’m too embarrassed. He walks around and steps in front of me. He places one hand on my waist and one under my chin. “Hey”, his voice softer now, “Kass, what’s wrong?” I look up at him, eyes blurry and I say, “I thought you weren’t here. I thought you hadn’t come.” It sounds stupid when I say it out loud. “Why wouldn’t I come, you’re my best friend.”

He pulls me closer to him and stares into my eyes. His face full of understanding, and I think for the first time, he really sees me. He understands my tears. He holds me and we look at each other for what seems like forever. I’m sure he knows how I feel. But I’m too scared to say it.

I hear my name being called, and I know that this moment is gone. He takes my hand and we walk back to the party, not wanting this to end. We walk in and everyone starts singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me. I smile, cheeks blushing. They bring out the big cake and it has seventeen beautiful candles on it. I look over at Ava and she smiles at me, a real smile. She tells me to make a wish. I look over at Medina and Jim, as they flank either side of me. They smile big smiles at me too, they’re happiness filling me with joy. Jim squeezes my hand, I close my eyes, make my wish and I blow out my candles.

A few weeks later, I hear Phil tell Ava that Sandy is going away for a while to get some help and that he wants Jim and Medina to live with us. But he worries about Jim and I being around each other too much. He suspects that we are more than just friends. “It wouldn’t be right, Ava. They’re step-siblings”. After a minute of silence, she says, “If they are in love, it’s not our job to stand in their way. They have been close since before you and I were even together. How horrible would it be to tear that apart?” She’s never stood up for me before. Not for school, not with anything, so I stand there eavesdropping at their door in shock. “Besides, who gives a shit what anyone has to say about us or them?” She continues, “It’s none of their goddamn business. If the kids want to, let them move in for however long they want.”

After they move in, everything is like a dream. We hang out every day on the beach after school, them surfing, me drawing. We have study sessions and throw chips at each other when the topic is getting too boring or we’ve had enough. We have big breakfasts with each other and laugh at our inside jokes. Medina’s boyfriend, Adrian comes around a lot, so now our group of three has expanded to a group of four. Jim and I are getting closer and closer. We have tiny moments when I think something will happen. A brush of his fingertips across my hand when we pass each other. His hand on my hip, when he reaches up to get the cereal over our heads. When he lingers in my bedroom after we all say goodnight. It’s there, that sexual tension. It hangs over us, like a cord ready to snap.

Movie Fridays we all usually go out together, but this time Medina is sick, and Adrian is upstairs taking care of her. Ava and Phil have gone to Paris for some work conference thing of his. It’s just me and Jim and it’s my turn to pick the movie. He makes a huge bowl of popcorn and grabs candy from the pantry. “Ok, Kass, what are we watching tonight?” I picked out ‘A Quiet Place’, I remember Jim saying that he had seen it and thought it was so good. “I thought scary movies freaked you out?” I nod and say, “But you’re here with me. I won’t be too scared.”

As the movie goes on and my anxiety level ratchets up, I feel my nerves bundling. I moved so close to him, I’m almost on top of his thigh. A jump scare happens on screen and I gasp and bury my face into his chest. He wraps his arm around me and when I look up at him, I become hyper-aware of his body and that we are alone. Our eyes lock onto one another and everything else falls away.

Our eyes saying things to each other that words could never convey. I move closer to him, doe-eyed, lips wet. He brings his other hand down to touch my face. “You are so beautiful, Kassidy.” Slowly, our lips meet, and the kiss is passionate and tender. I was expecting it to be hungry and ravenous. But it’s gentle and loving. He runs his hand through my hair and grips it at the base of my head. I feel him moan against my lips when I touch his inner thigh. He pulls me onto his lap and lifts my shirt up over my head. I’ve been around him plenty of times in my bathing suit, but this is so intimate, I suddenly become nervous. I cover up my stomach with my arm, not wanting him to see my soft belly. He pulls my arm away and places my hand on his face. I kiss him again and help him take off his shirt. We share an unspoken understanding. We belong to each other. He asks for my permission to keep going and I nod. He then unfastens my bra and frees my breasts, from their constriction. I sigh audibly at the welcome relief. He holds them in his hands and bites his bottom lip. I’ve never been this close to a boy before. I’ve made out with boys before, but never like this.

He bends his head down and licks languidly at my nipple. I breathe in a sharp intake of air at the sensation. He takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks on it slowly, lazily. I grip his hair, absentmindedly, and pull his head back. “Do you want me to stop?” He asks, huskily. “Please don’t.” I moan. I can feel the wetness pool in my panties, I’m almost certain he can too.

He keeps sucking at my nipple and caressing and pinching the other. I feel my body rocking back and forth on his lap, rubbing myself against his thighs. I don’t know if I can take much more. His bulge growing and becoming harder against his grey sweatpants. He suddenly picks me up and wraps my legs around his waist. “Not here, not like this.”, he says against my neck. He takes me upstairs, kissing me, hands gripping my ass. Our breaths are ragged from excitement. I hear Medina’s door creak open and then shut. I hear her and Adrian laugh. I look down at him and smile, “I think they can hear us.” His blue eyes shine at me, under the moonlight. “I don’t care. I only care about you.” He opens the door and lays me onto the bed.

I look around his room, and his walls are littered with pictures of the three of us. Always the three of us. Laughing, smiling, happy. I look at him standing there and warmth flushes through my body. “I love you, James Mason. I love you with all of my heart.” I scoot to the end of the bed and start to untie his sweatpants, but he stops me. He gets down on his knees and kisses me before he says, “I love you too. I’ve loved you since the beginning. I heard you that night when I was in the hospital. You gave me the will to live. I’m here because you saved me.” I wrap my arms around his neck and tears begin to fall down my face and splash onto his shoulder.

He pulls back from me to wipe my tears and kisses me again. He lays me back down and helps me shimmy out of my pajama pants. Then he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my panties and slowly pulls them off. The air hits my naked skin, and goosebumps pimple my flesh. I feel so exposed, I put my hand over my vagina. He looks up me, a lust has darkened his face. His eyes look like he is ready to devour me. He pulls my hand away and licks his lips. I raise myself up onto my elbows in anticipation. I’ve always heard how good this feels, but I’ve never experienced this before. I’m not sure what to expect.

He scoots in closer and pushes my legs apart. He starts with tiny little kisses on my inner thighs, and my hips are already bucking against him, “Not yet, kitten, you’re going to have to wait.” I feel the heat low in my abdomen and my mind is starting to spin. His tiny kisses turn into tiny licks and when he gets to my entrance, he licks a flat wide, stripe against my folds. I gasp so loudly, I have to cover my mouth with my hand. He licks slow and gentle against my clit, as I buck against his mouth. My hand buries itself in his hair and pulls on it. He groans and sucks on my clit vigorously. The sensations I’m feeling wrack my body. I’m writhing on the bed and push his face into my dripping cunt. His licks and sucks are becoming wetter and the noises are obscene. The tensions building and building until he gently pushes his index finger into me. He starts off slowly and then in between licks he pushes in a little further. I begin to unravel as I breathlessly call out his name. “Please…don't…stop James.” He inserts another finger and stretches me wide. My body can’t take anymore, and I explode. I scream out his name against the inside of my hand and cum all over his tongue. My body still rolling with pleasure, he licks my cunt clean.

I scoot my body up the bed and he crawls on top of me. His chin glistening with my juices. The moonlight streaming through the windows, playing shadows across his face. I’m so turned on by his smile, I pull him towards me roughly. Kissing him, I can taste the tanginess of myself on his lips. He kisses down the side of my face and onto my neck, I turn my head and see the ripples of muscles in his arms as he holds himself above me. He moves down to suck on my nipples again, but I stop him, “I want you, James. I want all of you.”

“Are you sure? I want you to be sure this is what you want” I nod at him and tell him that I am. He hops off the bed and unties his pants, they drop to the floor and there he is, in all his glory. His dick was hardened and the tip was slick with precum. My mouth waters wanting to taste him in my mouth, but before I can, he crawls back on top of me. Kissing me hungrily, rubbing himself against me. I reach down and grab his dick and he tilts his head back in pleasure. I begin to rub up and down the shaft, circling my thumb on the tip. He growls through gritted teeth, “I need you now, are you ready?” I squeeze his dick in response and open my legs wide. He lines himself up with my entrance and slowly starts to guide himself in. A rush of pain pools in my vagina as he thrusts. He’s so gentle, but my body craves this release. I grab his hips and pull him forward. His eyes go big and he takes this a sign to keep going. His rhythm, in tune with my body, rocks back and forth, going deeper and deeper. We’re both breathing so heavily, moans mixed in unison with each other. I feel so much pleasure that I don’t feel the sting of the loss of my virginity. I dig my fingers into his hips, begging him to fill me up. Harder and faster until we both are slick with sweat; his thumb finds its way to my clit and rubs it in circles. With him pumping in and out of me and playing with my clit, I feel the pressure of another orgasm building. “Do you like that, Kass? Does it feel good inside of you?” He says in my ear. The sensation of his breath of the outer shell of my ear, send shocks down my body. I can’t hold on anymore. My body bucks against him and the sounds of our sweaty bodies slapping against each other is explicit and loud. I cum so hard that my body shakes under his. Still clenched onto him, I feel his movements getting sloppier until his body gives out. He cums, calling out my name and collapses on top of me.

Neither of us moves, even after he’s gone soft inside of me. He lays there, kissing my shoulder and my face. “Are you ok, baby?” I smile at him and tell him that I am. He finally pulls out of me and we both get under the covers. He wraps his arm around me and asks, “I never did ask you, what did you wish for on your birthday?” I roll over and look up at him, “I’ll never tell, but this is pretty damn close.”

2 Years Later

The summer we all turned 18, we decided to leave Palos Verdes, like we had always planned. Sandy, the twins’ mom, was doing so much better now. She had moved back to Michigan and started teaching again. She seemed really happy. They would go visit her at Thanksgiving or Christmas and she’d always ask them to stay. But their lives were here in P.V they weren’t ready to leave just yet. Ava and Phil had a nasty divorce. He cheated on her with one of the nurses, apparently, this wasn’t news to Jim and Medina, as it had happened many times before when he was married to their mom. They were surprised though that he had been faithful this long. Ava kicked him out, but let the twins stay with us, much to his chagrin. He moved into a condo on the beach and we’d see him when we’d go surf and hang out. Adrian had been accepted to college but convinced his parents to let him take a gap year. Phil must have felt so bad about disrupting the twins’ lives in the first place, that he barely needed any convincing on letting them travel the world.

When I sat down and told Ava about our plans, she was hesitant at first. She said we were too young to travel without supervision. But I explained to her that we’re all of age now, and could just leave if wanted to, without permission. She seemed to think it over before saying, “Ok, but you have to call every day and check in. I need to know where you are at all times. Do you understand?” I hugged and kissed her cheek, something I hadn’t done since before Dad died. “Thank you, Mom. I love you.” She was so shocked that tears sprang from her eyes and she hugged me so tight I thought I would suffocate.

The day we left Palos Verdes, we all stood on the rocks, arms around each other and said goodbye to this place. Let the spray from the ocean sprinkle our faces. This was the last time, I’d feel this here. This was the last time this sun would set on my face. We were taking the good memories, like the ones I had of my dad and the laughs the four of us shared together, with us. We were leaving behind the bad memories, like the twins’ parents breaking up and Jim’s drug overdose. That stuff didn’t matter anymore. We had each other, and we were going to look out for one another.

We packed up the van and said our goodbyes to our parents. I sat in the passenger seat as Jim drove. Medina and Adrian played Uno in the back, singing along to the radio. This was as close to perfect as life could get. I was staring out of the window, lost in thought when I felt Jim’s hand enclose around mine. I look over at him and smile. He was so beautiful, and he was mine. All mine. I turn back to the window and I’m reminded of the wish I made for my 17th birthday. It had come true after all. I wanted to leave Palos Verdes and its perfectly manicured lawns and glistening white sands. I wanted to leave this place and be with the people who loved me the most. I wanted to be with him. Just us.

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[arayael-eloha]

Gotta Get my GLOW Back

Someone the other day stopped me in the gym and said ‘You don’t have that GLOW you used to have’. Granted he then explained to me he thought it was because I was missing my amazing trainer KDream, which I am, but he then probably saw the horrified and sad look on my face and quickly said, ‘You don’t have to be down, we all are here for you!’ I was relieved and smiled, but then it really affected me that someone who I see in the gym, but do not interact with on a daily basis made a comment about my light and how I seemed dim. That was a GUT CHECK for sure! Wow! I have been trying so hard to work on myself and to exude that glow and sunshine, but still one of my dark clouds follows me and I have to fight it almost every day, self love and relationship with myself, which clearly in turn affects how other people view me if I do not have myself in check first.  

We all have our off days and that is one of the reasons I started this blog. It was for a creative outlet and a way for me to share about sweat sessions, appreciation for fresh air and the outdoors, nourishing foods, wellness practices and advocate for movement, which all of these things help me on my cloudy days. We all experience it, I just think it is important for people to find outlets and know that other people are going through it as well, because we all are on this crazy journey called LIFE. It can be beautiful and fulfilling, but it can also be challenging and heartbreaking. That is the beauty of it. It is perfectly imperfect. Also let’s face it, social media contributes to a lot of our self worth standards these days. It portrays the perfect life, the perfect picture ALL OF THE TIME. No one wants their unfiltered face as their profile picture. You always want to put your best face forward, and trust me I do too, but every now and then I will get raw and real, because you have to sometimes.

So speaking of raw and real, let’s start by opening up about something that is usually personal…relationships. They are hard. Whether you are working on the relationship with yourself or you are in search of one with another person or are in a relationship. Within the last couple of months, I have been trying to figure some things out like how to deal with just being friend zoned by my work crush, confusion about my ex, because I still dearly love him, and I am coming to terms that THAT chapter has officially come to a close, all while being pursued by other men. I had gone on a couple of random dates, put myself out there BUT nothing stuck.

What is wrong with me? Why can’t a man commit? Why am I being led on but not taken out? Am I doing something? Am I not pretty enough? Am I being too nice? Am I being too honest?

The doubt and blame flooded my perspective and it is so hard to stay a float and get air when you feel like you’re drowning in this endless sea. Body image demons were there too, which is when I get severely self conscious since I have had a history of being embarrassed and unsure of my body and how I have looked...so you get the point, downward spiral I went. All from dating and a little bit of rejection and there was some good in there too, but how could I take a compliment if I had been rejected and confused? This is where the self love part should come in...but it takes time.

F THIS! I am doing nothing wrong I finally had to convince myself - this is just life and those guys were there for a reason, but I am so tired of there being a ‘reason’ and for there being a lesson in patience, self love, discernment, blah blah blah. Dating is hard, it is confusing, and the more women who feel comfortable coming out and sharing their experiences, the better support we will all have. You are not alone and don’t you dare question your self worth or if it is you because a man didn't like you, someone made a negative comment or a date did not go how you planned.

If I have learned anything, I have had to deepen the relationship with myself first so that when these rejections, awkward moments, negative comments come at me, I will be okay and not get thrown off so easily. I know that it is almost impossible to not be affected, after all, I am a cancer, and I am incredibly emotional and sensitive, but I can control how I react and handle certain things.

You might ask why is this related to working out? Well for me, being the best version of myself comes from looking and feeling good, and I do that by sweat and movement. The gym is where I feel the most powerful and I feel confident as well, just about as confident as I feel when I have heels on, make-up flawless, bronzed skin, hair blown out, and tits up 😘. (Cue Ashley Graham strut)

Working out is also a great distraction and stress reliever - I mean my girl Khloe got it right when she got that revenge body. It helps to focus all your energy somewhere for an hour, whether that be in the gym or walking getting some sunshine and fresh air. One step at a time love and do things that make YOU happy. Invest in friendships, if you love your job, use that as an outlet, try different things, travel, SWEAT, eat, drink, find happiness, even if it is just one moment during the day...BE HAPPY with you!!! We all live in this world and we all are trying to figure out our path in this life. It is not always pretty, it actually can rock us hard, BUT that doesn’t mean we can’t find gratitude in our hearts, find happiness, and learn to love ourselves. Be in a relationship with you!

In an effort to get my shine back, I felt the need to break old cycles and try something NEW. BRAND NEW - I stepped outside of my comfort zone from my normal routine at The Nox and decided to try a boxing class. (Cue the nerves)

Yes, that is right, I took this AMAZING boxing class at the new gym that just opened up in DC called RUMBLE and ooo baby did I rumble. One, two, jab, cross, upper cut! Want to feel like a badass?! Then you need to sign up for one of these classes. WOW – talk about POW (HER) FUL!!!  

This class was a cross between boxing and a HIIT workout. I got to throw punches, burn off steam from the week, and then crush it in the HIIT part of the workout. I made a sweat date with my work hubby for a Friday night and I HAD THE BEST TIME. I mean look at those guns - our instructor was a badass too!

I don’t have a workout for you this time, but I want you to find the courage to try something new. Plan to try a new workout, invite a friend if you're intimidated and who knows, you might actually LOVE IT and find something that works for you!! Go ahead and sign up for that dance class, SoulCycle, or crossfit - DO THAT. Stretch yourself. It is so refreshing!! It will help bring out that glow, that new you feel after you accomplish it and CRUSH the workout!

THANK GOODNESS for TRADER JOES. I honestly do not know what I would do without this grocery store. This week features a quick, healthy salad option. Literally 6 ingredients…ready?!

1.   Beets

2.   Lettuce, I am partial to mixed greens, but up to you!

3.   Red Onion

4.   Goat Cheese

5.   Candied Pecans

6.   Trader Joes Rose Vinaigrette

That is it! OMG it is delicious – add your favorite protein if you want to beef it up some. Lean ground turkey or chicken is a great option or you can fry up some tofu to keep it vegetarian friendly. I know not all of us have access to TJs and I am sorry for that, so for the dressing a simple vinaigrette works too!

So remember, TRY SOMETHING NEW, whether that be a new workout class, or a new food like beets in your salad (trust me, I was not a fan at first) or try to switch up your routine a bit. Be gentle with yourself, love yourself first, GLOW from the inside out. It has been a learning process for me, but if I take it a day at a time, breathe through the frustrations and ride the highs when they come, my smile cannot be contained and that ARay of Sunshine beams forth.

Go forth in humility as you open to new possibilities, refinement, and change. Cheers to us in working on that SHINE!

In peace,

A

[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 2

'Beep' Harper sat up straight in bed, what? What? Owww headache, aw aw aw, she grabbed her head and slowly lowered herself into the cushions again, this hangover was gonna be brutal if the hammering in her head was any indication. Think of nothing, in fact let yourself slide into this refreshing and revitalizing little nap, you deserve it! You haven't got a massive amount of work to be done, oh no, little leprechauns are real, believe in their existence and they will do the painting for you, believeeeee! Her eyes shot open again, as a ringtone burst through her attempt at self-hypnosis, ignore it, ignore..it, it'll go away, she mumbled and quite content with her self-fulfilling prophecy, she leaned back as the phone stopped ringing, only to start up again 5 seconds later. “Why did I let him talk me into this?” she groaned as she got up to find the intruder buzzing and twirling around on her table, “Hello” she moaned in agony from her splitting headache. “Hey babe, it's me..Sean!” his quirky voice irritated her already, “Sean, hey, first of all, never call me babe, second, why are you even calling me?“. On the other side of the line there were a few seconds of silence, swallowing his dissapointment he stammered “well, I thought you would like to know that me and the boys just landed at LAX..” hearing him this way, made her cringe, she really didn't mean to rain on his parade, “anyway..how are you?” he barely dared to ask. “I'm ok, just a little hung over..” she said as she looked at her paintings “oh, I wanted to thank you for the webpage, I've got my first e-mail from a possible buyer last night” she quickly added, not wanting to sound like a total bitch. “That's fantastic news” she heard Sean get barely excited on the other side of the country, “It is, I just can't put a price tag on them though, so I was thinking..could you send me a list?” she bit her lip, she hated him having to help her with all this commercial and digital stuff. “Sure..yeah I'll send you the list by e-mail” he answered without too much enthusiasm, this was such a weird conversation “listen, I've gotta go now..guess you'll hear me when you'll hear me” by the end of that sentence, all kindness in his voice had gone, “yeah, ok..well..you have a great time, which I know you all will, just..take good care of yourself, you hear?” she quickly added, she wasn't good at goodbyes, not even when they were done by phone, they just made her feel awkward. “I will..bye” he sighed and disconnected the call, why did he even let himself think that she was actually gonna miss him? Or that she was even remotely interested in this big adventure that was about to start for him? All she could talk about was that damn work of her, nothing or no-one else mattered to her.

Jared opened his eyes, last night's conquest still next to him, what? Oh no no, this wasn't the deal, all those kind of women needed to leave before their scent could penetrate his sheets, he hated having to wake them up and tell them to leave, and with this one he didn't even remember a name, that's how uneventful last night had been. He pushed himself up from the bed and pulled the sheet away, the coolness of morning touching her naked skin woke her up “hey..” she mumbled as she squinted her eyes, “hey yourself, it's time to leave, I've got things to do, so I'm gonna go and have a cup of coffee and you'll be gone when I come back” he threw the sheet on the floor and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. He didn't turn around when he walked out of his bedroom, why would he? He had seen more than enough of her already, his phone vibrated back to life while he hopped down the stairs and into his kitchen, switching on the kettle he scrolled through his e-mails, until his thumb rested on the one of the painter he contacted yesterday, ah, maybe there was a price list that he added. No prices..goddammit, was he trying to stall things? He read the last e-mail again: 'what drew you to my paintings?', well that was easy!

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: Re:re Paintings

That's easy, they're refreshing and original, ultraclean lines, depth and a little surreal! So, how about some prices, say I would start with the smallest of the whole collection? Surely you can give me an indication of the price range?

If you're not on social media, are you at least registered with any galleries? Are you based in LA? The reason I'm asking all these questions, is because I can't find you anywhere on the internet, what does HC stand for? Henry? Horatio?

Impatient Regards

BJL

Just when she was about to get back to work, that damn phone bleeped again, oh..another e-mail..her fingers nervously clicked and scrolled.

From: HCDeRobiano

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: Re:re:re Paintings

Thanks for the compliments! Am I based in LA? No painter or artists that respects him- or herself is based in LA, that city puts people to sleep, because it has no edge, no challenges, no electricity! That's why I'm living and working in New York, and no I'm not registered yet at any gallery, like I said my assistant is out of town, but if you want a price for N°1 (the smallest 'Baroque') you're looking at 500$.

Funny you should mention Horatio, because that is my Dad's name, and even funnier that you immediately think I'm a man, which I'm not by the way, but I'm guessing you are?

Regards,

Coco

Harper Coco was her real name, but she didn't really like Harper, she used to get bullied because of it at school, Sean somehow always called her Harper..and her Dad, even though she didn't know if he even remembered having a daughter, how long had she not spoken to him? 4 years? Ever since she decided that his aristocratic world was not exactly the one she wanted to live in and so she fled the nest as soon as she graduated from art school. Needing to push those bad memories away, she cranked up the music and crawled up her scaffolding, no external distractions allowed from now on, just the smell of paint in her nose, and some loud rock music in her ears was all she needed to forget about that ugly world outside.

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: What?

Hi Coco,

Great name! I totally get your obvious connection to the fine city of New York, I used to live there a long, long time ago, but your prejudice with LA is a bit unsettling, yes it's the capital of fake on the outside, but it's got a vivid art scene as well, it's a lot more laidback in many ways, yes, but that doesn't mean it's got no soul, because it does! For example, the film industry where a new star is born everyday and then there's the music industry, did you know that a lot of the best songs in history were written in LA? this city pushes people to live their dreams, and I think I'm living proof of what this city can do to and for someone!

500$ for that small painting? Deal! I would like to see what you're working on right now, so if you could send me some pics, that'd be great, oh and tell that assistant of yours to get his shit together, artists shouldn't have to sell their own work on top of everything else. Just give me his number and I'll have a word with him if you want!

Gotta run, so send me your financial details and I'll get the money transferred.

Horatio? Really? Now, that's weird because I googled Horatio De Robiano (I take it that is your last name, right?), just to check what kind of people I'm dealing with here, but guess what? Couldn't find anyone by that name either, do you even exist or is all your work done by some bot? Wouldn't surprise me, given how perfect those lines of yours are and how sweet your colours, it's almost too good to be true!

Oh, and since we're on a first name basis already, I'm Joe!

Real life regards

Joe

Ok, so he wasn't completely honest, Joseph, Joe, who cared if it was his middle name? At least it was closer to the truth than Bart Cubbins, and besides it gave him a sense of freedom, like he could write whatever he felt, he could be himself in these e-mails, not the actor or the singer everyone expected him to be 24/7. All content with himself he sat down with his cup of coffee while in the corner of his eye last night's failure came walking down the stairs, “I'll go then..bye Jay..” she slowed her step as she walked past the kitchen, hoping for..hoping for what exactly? That he would've changed his mind? That he would offer her coffee or breakfast? Duh! As if! “yeah bye” he mumbled as he kept his eyes on his screen, goodbye and good riddance, note to self: check with Shayla about the non disclosure agreement!

The rumbling of her stomach broke her focus, usually she ignored it and just carried on but this time it wasn't just her stomach but her mind too that just wouldn't calm down, ever since that last e-mail where 'stranger' mentioned her father, her mind just kept rehashing those last few weeks and days that led up to her leaving with slamming doors. She leaned back a bit to turn down the blaring radio before she almost jumped down from the scaffolding to have a look, oh yes, yes, yes, yes, YES! Sharp lines, great colours, she grabbed a cigarette and lit it. The more she looked at it, the prouder she was of herself, don't get too euphoric yet though..oh what the hell, this called for a little celebration, besides she could do with some fresh air and with some distance from her work for an hour or two so she grabbed her jacket and her bag and hopped on out the door. The cold New York air hit her as she walked to that cute diner a few blocks down, half of New York was rushing to get out of the cold, while she only enjoyed it as it blew the tiny remains of her hang over away. Suddenly she felt a weird vibration coming from the bag on her arm, oh this was going to be perfect, hot soup, her favorite sandwich and hopefully a new e-mail to read from that mistery buyer, life just couldn't get any sweeter right now and her feet shared the same opinion as they picked up the pace so she could sit down and finally read what 'stranger' had written.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Wan High Weeping (Part 22)

He didn’t need the extra stress, he really didn’t and Suki was the only thing keeping him at bay. He was only one text from Katara away from stringing Jet up by the feet and bringing back medieval torture methods. “Look at this, Suki!”

 “I know.” She bit her lip. “I see it. But I can’t have my baby daddy in jail.”

 For the first time in a while, he was in no mood for jokes. “She said that he’s been following her home from school and that she would be all alone of TyLee didn’t start driving her!” He wanted to kick his own ass too, for not being around to escort her home. “If something happens to her, Suki…”

 “Nothing is going to happen to her.” Suki declared. “I promise, I won’t let anything.”

 Sokka ran his hands through his hair. He let his hand fall on Suki’s baby bump. “I can’t let him go after you either. You’re not thinking about the baby!” He puffed out a drawn-out breath. He didn’t mean to sound so accusatory. But Suki didn’t dispute him.

 He could see that she was on the verge of frustrated tears. She was a fighter and a protector, but the baby brought with it, a conflict of interests. “I don’t know how, but I can still protect her.”

 “I don’t know what to do, Suki. Maybe I should just go home, find a college closer to home so I can make sure Katara is okay and be closer to you and the baby.” He looked around the campus. It was all going so well here and he loved the campus, loved the people, loved the atmosphere…

 “Sokka.” Suki replied softly.

 “It’s fine, I can transfer. The semester is only a month in.” He stated.

 “You shouldn’t have to give up something that makes you happy.” Suki said. “Just because Jet can’t control himself. What about your parents?”

 “They have jobs. Katara is alone most of the time, especially with Toph out of school and Aang at soccer practice.” With a grim expression he added, “Jet knows that.”

 “Well maybe TyLee can do her some good.”

 “He followed them home!” Sokka reiterated. “I don’t think that he’s scared of TyLee.”

 .oOo.

 Katara slipped into her house and locked the doors. She’d draw the curtains shut if she thought that it would help, but he knew that she was home and he knew that she was alone. He knew that should would be for another few hours, until her father got home at 4:30. She texted Sokka frequently. Maybe she should just stay at school. It wasn’t to late to join the cooking club. She would have preferred theater, but the auditioning window had already passed. She made a mental note to talk to YengChen about joining the club. She could invite TyLee along and then neither of them would have to worry about Jet.

 Katara made her way up to her room, gripping her phone tightly. She was thankful to have found TyLee because TyLee understood. She hadn’t given Katara the full story yet, but apparently Jet liked to follow her around too.

Frankly, Katara was more scared for TyLee because he was more subtle about harassing her. Subtle to the point where no one noticed that he was troubling her at all.

 She really wanted to go on as though nothing was wrong. There were only a few more days until Halloween and she still didn’t have a costume. All of the harassment and stalking had killed the friendly spooky mood and made those stupid slasher flicks feel all too real. Jet had virtually ruined the holiday for her entirely. On top of his antics, Usha had taken to counting down the days to Halloween by photoshopping her face onto a new ‘sexy’ costume for each day. By day fifteen, Katara stopped checking her social media pages altogether, she was tired of seeing her face plastered onto sexy maids and cops.

 She heard a car pull into her driveway and looked at her clock. It was only 3:27. Her heart began to thunder in her chest. She shot Sokka a quick text, letting him know of the situation.

 He replied almost immediately. ‘Dammit, Katara, call the cops!’

 A good idea on paper but she knew that he’d either be speeding off or in her house by the time they arrived. That is if they took her seriously at all. And she texted such to Sokka who responds with an, ‘at least report it to them so they know.’

 Katara really didn’t see the use. The dots reappear on her screen. She read the message, ‘do you want me to head over there? I can tell my professor that I have an emergency.’

 ‘You won’t make it on time.’ She texted back.

 She couldn’t help but shiver. She crept down the hall making as little noise as possible. A glance out the window, reveals Jet standing in her driveway. He shot her a cocky wave. She retreated into the hallway and pulled down one of her father’s decorative tribal spears. “Sorry, dad.” She mumbled, knowing very well that his arctic wall décor was off limits.

 Her phone buzzed and she prayed that it was Sokka. A message from TyLee, appeared and she breathed a sigh of relief. The girl wanted to know if she would go costume shopping with her. Katara replied, ‘yes, can you come by as quick as possible?’

 With any luck, the sound of a new car would drive Jet away. If her luck was poor, she realized with faint horror, she had just put TyLee in the firing range. She smacked her forehead, how could she be so stupid and selfish?

 She was about to text a never mind when TyLee replied, ‘great, I’m just finishing my volunteer hours at the animal shelter, I’ll be there in five.’

 She heard the shattering of glass and a bead of anxious sweat trickled down her forehead. Oh God, he’s in the house. She clutched the spear tighter, wishing she knew how to use it. She texted Sokka to tell him that Jet was in her house.

 .oOo.

 Sokka punched the wall, his face was twisted and distorted with more rage than she had ever seen on him and truth be told she was afraid. Suki understood perfectly why he was in such a state but she couldn’t help the darker thoughts that rose in her head.

 What if, somewhere down the road, that rage was directed at her.

At their baby.

 She tried shaking the irrational thoughts away. No, this behavior was the result of not being able to protect loved ones. She tried to turn her thinking around, telling herself that, this is how he would fight for she and their child if he had to.

 He threw his fist into the painted bricks again. And he was going for another round. That time, she caught his hand. “You’re going to hurt yourself, stop it.”

 “He’s in the fucking house Suki!” Sokka roared.

 She hoped that no one else could hear the commotion, God forbid they got the wrong idea.

 “If he hurts her…” Sokka’s breathing was growing erratic. “If he hurts her I don’t know what I’ll do.”

 “Let’s go outside.” Suki suggested. Some fresh air might do him some good.

 “I gotta go home, I gotta…”

 She squeezed his shoulders more firmly. “You have to calm down. You can’t help Katara if you’re not calm.”

 His phone buzzed and Suki’s heart leapt, she hoped that it was some good news.

 .oOo.

 TyLee arrived before the police. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the girl’s voice. “Katara?” It was riddled with concern. “Katara, are you okay?”

 Katara released the breath she had been holding and wiped away a few silent tears. “I’m fine.” Her voice was so shaky. Just as shaky as the legs she heaved herself up on. “If you’re not inside, you can come in.”

 “The door is locked, but I guess I can fit through the widow.”

 Katara thought it was a jest until she came downstairs to find the girl squishing herself through the relatively large hole in the window. Katara knew that the girl was flexible, but that was just insane.

 “What happened?”

 “Jet.” She replied glumly.

 TyLee stooped down to pick up the miniature bolder Jet had chucked through the window. She grimaced.  

 “What?”

 TyLee turned the large rock over. Painted in red was a threat; ‘windows are pretty easy to break, you might as well open the door.’

 She wanted to cry all over again. She distracted herself by letting Sokka know that Jet had only broken the window, that he had never been inside at all. She added that TyLee was there and the cops would be there too.

 Not that they ended up being much use at all. She hadn’t expected them to be. She watched them snap photos of the rock, the message on it, and the broken glass. “But no one was inside of the house?” The taller cop spoke.

 Katara shook her head. “But look at that, he practically said that he would be…”

 “He?” Asked the smaller female cop.

 “My stalker. Jet! The one I’ve been telling you about!”

 “How do you know it was him?” Asked the woman

 “For all we know, it was just some bratty neighbor pulling a nasty Halloween prank.” The man concluded.

 “Happens all the time around this time ‘a year.” The female added

 Katara wanted to scream. “No! It’s him, I saw him out there.” She was so furious with herself for not snapping a picture of him standing in her driveway; once again, she could prove nothing.

 “Did you managed to get a picture of him?”

 “No!” Katara shouted again. “I didn’t think about it. But he. Was. There.”

 “He was totally there.” TyLee put in.

 “And you saw him?” The female asked.

 TyLee bit her cheek. “Well no, but…”

 “If you weren’t present then you can’t be a witness.” Spoke the male.

 “He does this kind of thing to me too.” TyLee argued.

 “Have you reported it?” Asked the female cop.

 Her silence was an answer it itself. Now Katara wanted to tear her hair out. What would it take to get them to believe her? Would she have to go missing? Would she have to die? TyLee grabbed her hand and pulled her into what was probably meant to be a comforting embrace. Maybe she was going to have to move. She didn’t want to leave Aang, Suki, and Toph behind. She didn’t want to leave town, but that was starting to sound like the safest option.

[orange-antics]

Eddsworld miscellaneous hcs

ok there's probably like 100 of these already or something, but I thought I'd add mine anyway, because hey, it's fun and I'll probably change or add a few later. (Also this ended up waaaaaaaay longer then i meant it to be wh o ops so uh be warned its pretty damn long-)

Tom:

Shortest! (i know it's normally either edd or tord, but after seeing saloonatics, I just couldn't resist the idea of the grumpiest one being the smallest. Cute right?)

Relatively strong arms, more fat around his stomach and torso then his legs.

Occasionally works gigs at local clubs and stuff for money.

Doesn't have much social media aside from Facebook so he can occasionally stalk his old college mates.

He actually likes sports like football and tennis. (His favourite sport is seeing how many bars he can hit up in one nigh-//shot//)

His hair smells like pineapple! (And the rest of him like booze-)

He's up for pretty much anything if he's drunk enough to have fun and not remember enough to regret it

But not bowling.

N e ve r bo wl ing

He's still got a scar on his left arm from The End. :( But Matt and Edd helped him to fix it up, so it's all good!

He's actually a pretty chill and sensible guy, and despite being snarky and sarcastic whenever he can, he genuinely cares about his relationships with people, scared that one day they'll get bored of him and cast him aside. He's really just a goofball with big city dreams of becoming a rockstar.

Spends like two hours in the shower crying and listening to MCR

His favourite show is Bad Education. It's good for when he needs cheering up.

He likes snacks and foods that are crunch, and salty, spicy, and sometimes savoury. So Crisps, Pringles, Doritos, chex mix etc.

Edd:

Second shortest/third tallest

Kinda chubby tbh but he's the BEST at hugs.

His forearm game is actually pretty strong because of all the time he spends making art to pay for their bills (because hey, someone's gotta do it amirite). You don't wanna head into an arm-wrestling contest with this guy.

Makes money by selling his art and also taste-testing all the latest cola products! (Just...not the diet ones).

Aside from a devianart, redbubble and maybe even a tumblr for art commissions, he doesn't really care about social media. Or regular media. Politics who?

His favourite sport? Seeing how many cans of cola he can get through on an especially difficult project. (Cricket always looked kind of fun though)

Smells like cola and not taking a shower in days because he HAS to get the lineart perfect and edd are you ok when was the last time you slept- (jokes aside, i can see him smelling like graphite and paints and sharpies from his art supplies).

Can pull the perfect poker face like damn son having a baby face sure comes in handy when lying to your roomate about why there's broken guitar strings hanging out of Ringo's mouth again

Has a scar on the inside of his eyelid from the time Tom 'accidently' poked him in the eye with a pencil (...may or may not be based off personal experience)

Edd is pretty friendly and open with people, he likes getting to know them and joking around. He's the Ultimate Punmaster ™, and loves nothing more to poke fun. He sees the world through the eyes of a cartoonist, and will never miss a comedic opportunity.

Be warned! He's actually fairly smart, and can read people well, knowing just how to really get under someone's skin. It's a good thing he can't be bothered with any of that though.

Gets his best ideas either in the tub or when hes just about to sleep. Because of that, he keeps a water-proof and regular notebook. Nearly had a heart-attack countless times because he accidently swapped them around.

Despite his complaints about absurd plot conveniences, he actually likes Doctor Wh- i mean "Proffesor Why", there's just something about the concept of time travel...he also likes cartoons! Like, a lot. He'll watch most anything and everything if it's animated and the writing is decent.

Likes anything sour, sweet, and chewy! So Jelly Babies, Wine gums, Sour patch kids, that kind of thing

Tord:

(Most of these are heavily based upon his life as Red Leader so sorry if you were looking for more domestic Tord. Maybe I'll do seperate hcs for that one day)

Second tallest! Quite a bit taller then Tom, a bit taller then Edd, just about average height, if a bit taller. He's closer to Matt in height then Edd.

He's actually quite well-built! You wouldn't think it because of the baggy hoodie he wears but he's got pretty good muscle, and his endurance and strength is well above the others. This mostly comes from the logic that he's been training and leading the Red Army, so it just makes sense to me that he'd resemble a soldier physically, yknow? AU-wise, or before he started the whole world domination thing, he'd be a little more scrawny, but he could still kick everyone's ass (he probably tried copying numerous anime battle stances lol-)

He's pretty well off, it turns out you can get quite rich by adopting some uh...rather unconventional means of money-making. Of course you could always say he just sold his inventions.

Does having your own private network of underground intelligence-gathering units count as social media? No? Nevermind.(He has a hentaihaven account-)

He likes dodgeball, archery, and you guessed it, arcade shooter games. Anything where he can point and hit something basically.

He smells like gunpowder, dirt, oil from machine maintenance and the cold? Like if the cold had a smell, he would have that smell, does that make sense? He also probably smells like Old Spice because idfk it just reminds me of him ok.

He doesn't exactly get out to socialise much, be prefers to stay at his desk, or curled up next to the fire with a mug of hot cider when he wants to relax. Sometimes Paul and Pat will drag him outside when they think he needs a breath of fresh air, and they'll go visit the nearest marketplace for food and other supplies. He likes strategic games like Chess or Draughts, and it's a good way to show off and get practice at the same time.

Scar-wise, he probably has quite a few from his fights. Post-the end, I'm not sure what would happen to him, since I've seen people go in a lot of different directions. I DO think he'd replace him arm with the robotic one, since that seemed too heavily implied to not happen. Regarding his face, I think the burns and stuff would probably heal over time, and depending on the technology in the future, he'd either still have some heavy scarring, or maybe he'd develop some kind of treatment so that it restores him to almost fully healed. He could always go the cyborg route and end up half-man half-machine like we see with future Matt and Tom.

(About the patch on his face, I have a theory about how he he aquired that scar/injury. See, I don't think Tord founded Red Army by himself, no. I think he was introduced to it by Paul (who we see in the same classroom as them in Poweredd) who was kept back a few years cause....uh...yknow- Anyway I have a theory that Tord eventually climbed the ranks until he became second-in-command, and he then murdered Red Leader and took his title. Their fight is where he got that injury. It's not really canon-supported much, but I find it an interesting concept!)

You've probably guessed, but I kind of disgree with Tord's portrayal sometimes. I think I prefer the darker, meaner side to him. I wouldn't say he's (completely) evil, but I'm not really one for the whole "self-hating, regretful angsty Tord who just wants some love and support" and stuff. I mean, it's cute with ships amd fluff, amd ideally he does make amends and rejoin the group, but I just like the thought that he's genuinely not a nice guy yknow? Like, he's actually done some fucked up stuff, and The End is probably just one case. (Of course this is all opinion based so feel free to disagree if u wanna wheeze-)

Has the WORST sleeping schedule. Has been known to fall asleep in the bath/shower.

He prefers movies to shows. His favourite is the Kingsman series (he can relate on many different levels).

Likes bittersweet things, (just like his personality amirite-). So cake with coffee, or tarts, liquorice, hard candy, that kind of thing.

Matt:

(My favourite-)

He tol. Tallest of them all!

Someone once described him as "borderline twink" and tbh i agree. I feel like he'd have a slightly feminine figure (which is perfectly normal!) and he both rocks it, and knows he does.

He works at a nail salon every now and again, his self-confidence and bubbliness makes him get along well with customers. (Also Matt would definitely wear nail polish ok dont even try to convince me otherwise. Actually speaking of,)

He has EVERY kind of social media possible. Instagram, twitter, facebook, tumblr, facebook, snapchat, you name it! He's especially prominent on instagram. He likes to keep an ~aesthetic~

He likes gymnastics and dance, activities like that. Anything which puts him in a creative spotlight. He'd probably take up acting classes, and then insist on only being given monologues.

He'd probably have quite a pleasant and nature-y smell? Like uhh citrus-y, pine tree, a hint of flowers, that kind of thing. Although he'd DEFINITELY slap on way too much cologne on a date or something and end up smelling like he just emptied out a bottle of febreeze.

He'd probably go out quite a lot! I can see Matt being a social butterfly, his friendliness and general likeability probably mean that he's got a few friends and stuff around. I can also see him as the kind of person who'd enjoy taking walks in the park, sitting below a tree, that kind of thing. He probably runs a self-love session (that works a little TOO well). He wants to get out there and show off his beautiful face, so it doesn't take a lot to drag him outside (provided you keep a mirror on you, that is).

He doesn't really have any physical scars. I mean, i do hc him with freckles, but they don't count so. he has a mental scar. After he hit himself with the memory eraser gun, he completely erased his memories. It took a while for him to settle onto the personality he has now. His face was the one thing that he knew for certain held a sense of familiarity and stability, so that's partly why his narcissism boomed so much. He sometimes gets random flashbacks of being a zombeh leader, being less of a nicer person, and it can be quite unnerving for him. He also has other memory issues, which is why he can forget things so easily, and comes across as an idiot most of the time.

He can be quite oblivious, but I dont think hes a total idiot. He can read people fairly well, and is emotionally intelligent. He says stupid things sometimes despite knowing they'll get a reaction, just because he wants to, and thinks that life should be as fun and full of joy as possible. He's too trusting, and wants to see the good in everyone. At the end of the day, if you disrespect him (and his face), you'll see that he can be more then just the nice guy.

LUSH!! Matt is HERE for all those lush products. I'm talking bath bombs, lip scrubs, shower jellies, all that good stuff! And ofc he has like 100+ products for his hair and skincare routine, because let's face it, it's Matt. I also like to think he owns a bunch of bath toys and rubber duckies, and like the kid at heart he is, he'll sit in a bubble bath playing with them, and re-enacting all of their adventures.

He mostly prefers youtube videos over TV, so you bet he's subscribed to all the beauty gurus, vloggers, people like that. He does think children's cartoons are nice to watch though, so every once in a while he'll force Tom and Edd to sit with him and watch the latest season of My little pony.

He likes anything sweet and fun to look at! Especially if it's trending, so he can post pictures of himself eating/drinking it. So if there's another rolled ice cream/new starbucks-ccino/unicorn themed food item floating about, he'll probably be trying it.

(Ah man this turned out way longer then i thought. It went from simple headcanons to like full blown theories whoops- maybe i should make seperate posts if its too difficult to read? Anyway let me know what you think nonetheless!)

[nhlhoser]

On The Rocks- 22

Part 21 Masterlist

Word count: 2670

probably swearing 

It was about 5 pm when our stomachs decided it was time for food seeing as we've only had espresso and a hissy fit, we were quite hungry. About 3 unsuccessful suggestions of where to go and some feelings hurt on the way, I wordlessly rose of my bed got changed in my closet into actual underwear, my softest gray leggings and old baggy quarter zipper burgundy sweater. My leggings barely touch my ankle because of the length of my legs.

"We are going out," I announced re-enter my room to the lazy looking teen fiddling with my TV remote. He eyes my outfit for a clue of where we are going, me clearly looking just as lazy before just this time my own clothing doesn't give him much of a clue where.

"and where are we going?" Auston humored with an amused smirk on his face.

"Well, first I am gonna see what I have in the freezer and I think I should have gnocchi or lasagna prepped. Then you and I are going shopping," I smiled brightly gaining Auston's attention at shopping but his posture is doubtful in my intentions.

"Two things, where are we going shopping? and Nonna Gnocchi?" Auston's tone changes from scared to excited to hopeful all in one sentence as he slowly gets up from my bed, turning off the TV. I remember Auston being chirped for his love of shopping that has spanned way before he was making the big bucks that he is now, but this shopping won't be to his standards.

"Grocery shopping 'cause I saw your fridge," Smirking as Auston groans falling back onto my bed with a pout on his lips and a blush on his cheeks. "Come on Auston. Didn't you tell us that your Mum and dad are coming in this week or are already here?" I prodded already knowing that his parents are indeed in town because every time they are, Auston goes socially MIA and he hasn't been hanging around with Mitch or Morgan as often.

"Yeah, they're already in town but staying in a hotel. Claiming that 'I need my space for this important time of the season'," Auston drops his voice an octave mimicking what his dad is supposed to sound like probably. "So, I have been taking them to restaurants around the city," He sat up with a shrug.

"Okay but Auston was still going to grocery shopping because this is an important time of the season," I whined grabbing his arm half ass pulling him but he doesn't budge. "Okay, I'm not gonna talk about hockey anymore but you still need food," I pulled more, he smirks at the failed attempts to move him, thinking that I can't lift him.

"How much do you weight?" I asked pulling away from my plans being determined by his next answer as I assess him.

I think I can lift him.

"220, why?" He frowns as I smirked well looks like this gonna be a PR.

I lift 200 pounds in the gym what's another 20? Bracing my legs comfortably, bending my knees I wrap my arms under his and tugging him swiftly off the bed with minor difficulty lifting dead weight. He stumbled before gaining his balance now standing in front of me with a shocked face.

"Great, come on," I stepped abound him about to walk out the door.

"Well, it's rude to ask a lady's weight," I was lifted into the air and flung back on my bed, landing on my back staring wide-eyed at Auston who's smirking.

"Come on," He dragged out as if it was my fault we are still in my room instead of downstairs. Rolling my eyes I huff dramatically taking my time getting off the bed, hurrying past Auston bumping his shoulder as I pass.

"Where's Steph and Mitch?" I wondered aloud confused by the lack of noise in the apartment coming down the stairs into the living room seeing no one either.

"Mitch's parents are treating him to dinner for getting into the playoff," Auston following behind me tossing his body onto the couch with a groan. "Mmm, You also gotta fix ma back," He stretched like a cat before looking for the remote.

"Yeah later," I waved him off going into my freezer looking for food. Pulling out the Gnocchi as the lasagna is way too big for only two people eating it. Switching the stove on, I fill a pot with water setting it on the lit stove to boil. Ignoring the sound of the TV get into my cooking zone, chopping some onion and basil for the red sauce.

I was so in the zone that I didn't notice Auston move from his spot on the couch to on a stool to watch me work around the kitchen. I had just put the pasta into the water and was about to ask Auston to grab the sauce for me when I noticed the vacant couch, his laugh startling me from being right beside me. My hand instantly covered my chest where my heart pounds, I stare wide-eyed as he laughs.

"Jesus, Wear a bell or something," I breathe still shaken up. Auston just shakes his head at me as he laughs some more at my expense but slowly settles for a cheeky grin when I just stare at him.

"anyways, Can you grab a jar of sauce from the laundry room? thanks," It was more of a statement than a question but he gets up and gets it for me anyways. He reminds me of me when I was really young cooking with my Nonna, easily fascinated by anything in the kitchen. His posture is lax as he lazily bends down at the waist to grab the jar, prompting me to look away when I realize I was watching his butt the entire way.

Opting to find my skillet to hide my reddening cheeks, I turn on the spot before he even is vertical. Bending myself because genuinely I don't remember where I put it last, sorting through the various metal pots and pans until I find the cast iron skillet at the very back shouting in victory.

Ignoring the man watching me, I get back into cooking. Placing the skillet on the burner as I wait for it to heat I strain the cooked pasta and blanching it in cold water. Once the skillet was radiating heat I drizzled some olive oil let it bubble a bit before scraping in the onion and basil. Turning away from the stove for the jar this time not spooked by Auston's presence. Grabbing the mason jar sitting in front of him, its already opened. He smiles a contagious smile that makes him look a lot younger despite the growing facial hair.

"Grazie," I laid the accent on thick with a wink, earning a brighter smile and chuckle.

Finishing up the food, Auston works around me to set the table and getting water bottles. I set the steaming bowl of food between us in the center of the table. The scent is mouth water and my stomach ached for it. Wasting no time in dishing out the portions and digging, the only sounds utensils hitting the plates, chewing and moaning.

"My Nona's recipe for the sauce but the pasta is a small Italian place in Markham, definitely not as good as my Nona's," My tone is sentimental as Auston hums his pleasure still stuffing his face. Occasionally taking a breath or a sip of water.

"It's hard to believe it get's, better than this because I have to about 225 now," His words muffled by the food still in his yap.

"Probably helps that its like 6 pm and it's our first meal," I noted finishing off my plate, glancing at the dish debating if I want more or my taste buds want more. Instead of committing to another portion, I steal forkfuls straight from the bowl between us.

"Mmm, I found a solution for my lack of fresh food," Auston gleamed with a devilish smirk pausing for another mouthful of pasta. "You can just come cook for me and then I don't have to order the meal preps anymore," His suggestion is a joke but there is some hope in his eyes as he waits for me to react.

"Sure," I forked another mound of food into my mouth, Auston sat across from me shocked by my ease.

"Wait, actually?" He smiled but was on guard.

"Yeah but I have a price," I added ominously purposely to spook him, which it did because he paused mid-bite to watch me waiting for me to say what the price is.

"Don't hide injuries or I swear to a high power I'll let you starve," I pointed my fork at him for dramatic effect as he slowly nods eyes wide.

"That simple?"

"Can be if you want it to be," I riddle off picking up my plate and the now empty bowl between us and working on cleaning up the kitchen. Auston comes in silently rinsing his plate and putting it into the dishwasher as I handle the pots and skillet, the cast-iron needing different treatment than the other metal pots.

"Deal?" I quirked once everything was cleaned up, turning to Auston my hand outstretched for a shake.

"Deal," shaking on it.

Shopping with Auston is a pleasant experience, he follows my lead majority of the time but will veer off if something catches his eye and returns putting it in the cart. He would pout lightly if it was something unhealthily as if he thought I would scold him for it but I'd shrug and continue pushing the cart down the isles occupationally sneaking things I like into the cart.

"Steak or chicken?" Auston held up the different meats, recipes for both came into the forefront of my mind instantly.

"Both," Auston shrugged carefully placing the meats into the last empty place at the bottom. Continued down more isles filling the cart more, coming to the baking products Auston just by-passes it but I venture down, grabbing the stable; flour, baking soda/powder and bulk of salt. I also grab ingredients for desserts; vanilla, cocoa powder, and chocolate chips.

"Amelia?" I can hear Auston's voice call from a couple aisles over clearly just realizing I wasn't behind him anymore. I see him before he sees me, he's peering into isles. I can't see his eyes from the black hat covering his eyes but I can see the frown on his usually emotionless face.

"Aus," clumsily spinning to my voice Auston relaxes he glares as I approach with the cart.

"where did you go?" He lets up as he looks for the added items in the cart stops and lifts the chocolate chips with a grin. "Okay, I approve as long as these eventually turn into cookies," He tosses the large bag of chips into the cart once again.

"I think we covered everything to last you for the next couple of weeks," I noted as the cart is full to the brim of fresh produce and meats with of course some junk food. Mentally cataloging what's in the cart to make sure we got everything, a quiet voice interrupted my thoughts as a small boy approached with a smile wearing a Leafs shirt and hat covering his blonde locks.

"Are you Auston Matthews?" He whispered scared that he might not be Auston. My heart melted instantly, having a soft spot cutie little kids.

"Yes, I am! What's your name, buddy?" Auston knelt down being way too tall for the beaming boy, he smiles soft as the boy gasps and says his name is 'Spencer'. They became to talk about hockey and the little man looked like he his face was gonna split from smiling so much.

"Spencer?!" An older lady with matching blonde hair but brown eyes, unlike Spencer's bright blues. I wave her over pointing to the boy who's over the moon and safe.

"Spencer, You can't run off like that," his mother scolded out of breathing, bending down to pull her son into an embrace.

"I know ma, but the look is Auston Matthews," he beamed like that was suppose to make up for the fact for giving her a heart attack.

"Who?" The lady not knowing who Auston was but the boy was quick to roll his eyes at his mother confused face.

"He's only the best hockey player, ma" he drew out dully. His mom shook her head at him with a laugh.

"Do you want a photo?" Auston offered standing up to his full height again. Spencer instantly shift his hate and shirt making sure they look good, Auston pulls the boy up into arms resting him on his hip.

 The mom takes mutinous shots as per Spencer's request. Auston continues a quiet conversation with the boy until the boy whispered something into Auston's ear prompting him to look over to me with a warm smile before putting him down, signing his shirt and hat.

"That was the cutest thing ever," I gushed as we got to the car as There wasn't really a time a gush in the store as Spencer was near until we got out of the building and to the car where we stand now loading in the trunk carefully.

"One of my favorite parts of my job are kids like Spencer, maybe some more than others given the situation but it warms the heart and it motivating," He was more relaxed now than before as he shuts the trunk.

 "What did he whisper to you?" I recall the boy's red cheeks and Austons smile.

"Secret can't tell you," he teased getting into the car smirking as rolls my eyes at him, following suit.

This car ride is a lot more pleasant than the ride to my place before, the memory of Austons anger leaves unpleasant feeling sitting on my chest the whole way up to Auston apartment arms loaded with bags. He goes back down to get the rest that we couldn't manage.

Slipping out onto the balcony as I wait for Auston to return, the fresh air is crisp on my overheated face from too much thinking.  Setting myself onto the same couch from the morning tucking my feet under me, I took in the view of Toronto's night lights but this mornings view puts this to shame.

Checking my phone its 8 pm.

Sighing the feeling doesn't let up and only gets worse when Auston returns, putting things away before coming out and sitting beside me saying nothing but he has to be able to sense the tension.

"I'm so sorry for making you feel like I don't trust you, Auston." I blurted out relieving the knot in my chest. "I have a bad habit of sabotaging myself,"

"I'm sorry for being an ass about it, I went the wrong way about it trumping my feelings over yours, you clearly have your reason and I should accept that," he pulled me into his side.

"I've shared more with you in the past 24 hours than I ever did with my old therapist," Auston chuckles but doesn't comment thankfully, just sitting with me.

"I should probably get home soon," I started a bit later when the temperature was too low for me.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Auston said sporadically, ignoring my comment on leaving.

"Nothing that I can think of," I racked my brain for anything.

"Then stay,"

"Sure, but can we go in? I'm cold,"

Letting someone in is seeming easier as the day goes by and Auston is only making it easier.

It scares me.

But it doesn't scare me how easy it is to eat junk food well watching dumb comedy's laughing our asses off on his couch, or how easy it was to fall asleep again in his arms for the third or fourth time since I met him.

But who’s counting anyways?

NEXT

[journeysintowebcomics]

Homestuck Liveblog #171

UPDATE 171: Like Punching Your Own Face

Last time Roxy had managed to create the matriorb out of thin air, and Dave and Dirk were finally having a much-needed conversation, Dave unloading everything he had in his head regarding Bro’s way of raising him. It was raw and made me sympathize a lot with Dave, but it’s not over yet. Let’s continue.

The first thing I read in this update is Dirk apologizing. Huh. It wasn’t your fault, Dirk, Dave simply had the bad luck of being raised by a sucky version of you. Then again, as it was pointed to me: Dirk himself admitted long ago that he has no business raising anyone. He’s not wrong, if this was the result. Roxy didn’t do a stellar job, but she wasn’t a complete disaster – the ocean-sized gap that’s the lack of communication between the Lalondes was the problem. All in all, maybe not having to raise them by themselves would have helped.

DAVE: you had a completely different life full of like  DAVE: different choices and actions and stuff 

He’s not wrong about that, environment shapes people a lot. I wonder how alternate Dave would have raised Dirk if there wasn’t the slight problem of Dirk being a few centuries in the future...and also if alternate Dave hadn’t been killed. That can’t have been of help either.

Dirk continues feeling responsible of what Bro did, saying he needs to take responsibility for all the splinters that are him. It’s hard to understand, a bit. I honestly can’t even start saying how complicated it is to feel like that – but somehow I have the feeling that a lot of people in the world would feel responsible for what their alternates do. I don’t know if I would.

DIRK: I've felt...  DIRK: Haunted by them.  DIRK: And what that really means is, I'm perpetually haunted by my own bad qualities. 

You literally made glasses that are filled with some of your own bad qualities, Dirk. You kinda brought that one to yourself, just saying.

Dave appreciates Dirk’s apologies, even though it feels weird to hear it from someone that isn’t the Bro he knew, which in turn makes Dirk confess that he isn’t even happy with his relationships with his peers – especially with Jake. Well yeah, no surprise there, everything is still a fresh wound. It was just a day ago or so that Jake was telling to other people that he felt suffocated. Who knows, maybe in the future that’ll change! Don’t give up, Dirk.

It’s nice to see that Dave and Dirk are trying to give support to each other despite the trouble they have to connect. It’s clumsy, it’s distant, but they’re trying. It’s more akin to pulling teeth than a heartfelt conversation, buuuuuuut it’s the best the Striders can do.

DAVE: you dont actually seem like a bad person to me though  DIRK: No?  DAVE: nah  DIRK: Why not?  DIRK: We did just meet, after all.  DAVE: because  DAVE: i dunno if truly bad people wrestle so much with whether theyre good or bad 

Dirk is not a bad person. He can be extremely difficult to deal with, but he’s not bad. I’m sure hearing it from Dave will make it resonate more than if he had heard it from anyone else, even if everyone else would be more energetic about telling him that he’s a good person. Dirk isn’t even accepting it from Dave at face value, although he is grateful about it. Everyone else idolized him, after all.

DIRK: She meant well, but was so enamored of me, and seemingly everything I did.  DIRK: Which I think was the last thing I needed.  DIRK: To be idolized in some form by other people I respected.  DIRK: I had enough of that feeling coming from within, particularly when I was younger. 

No wonder Bro ended like that. I really don’t think anyone dared to tell him about his flaws. I suppose that maybe this could be interpreted as a sign that Bro respected Dave, but I’m not going to think that’s correct. That relationship was pretty messed up, after all.

Dave sounds genuinely floored to hear everything his alternate self did in Dirk’s universe, including killing clown presidents and somehow managing to make a million Statues of Liberty. I’m still wrapping my head around that one. Could that have been how things would have gone if the world hadn’t ended horribly? Hm...no. The movies and all were a way to give the Condesce a sucker punch, no Condesce means those concrete movies wouldn’t exist. It’s hard to say what would have happened. Maybe Dave really would have gone into the fields that study dead stuff.

Dirk tried to follow Dave’s perceived good traits. Golly, Dave must have never seen that coming.

DIRK: You get to apply all that potential you showed in one reality to something much bigger and more existentially critical.  DIRK: Whatever strength you showed in trying to save a dying planet, the fact is, I think we need that more here.  DIRK: And the trials inherent in being a part of something like this, I think they bring more out of you than a relatively pedestrian life on Earth would. Make you face more things about yourself. At least, that's been true for me. 

Oh hey, I just realized that this alternate Dave pretty much did everything that’s expected of the Dave we know: fight, resist, and pretty much be a cornerstone of the rebellion against the Condesce. He’s everything Dave doesn’t think he can be. Think about that, Dave.

DIRK: I hope it doesn't come off as overly sentimental garbage, but it seems to me like you turned out to be a really good dude.  DIRK: Like, really, a better sort of dude I ever imagined talking to when I pictured meeting the legendary guy I idolized.  DIRK: I pictured him as probably being "too cool" to be the type of guy you are.  DIRK: But you know what, fuck being too cool for that.

Congratulations, you pretty much punched Dave’s hopes from when he was thirteen years old. It’s for the better. Somehow hearing that Dave is not the “cool” person Dave had once hoped Bro would see him as catches him off-guard. Here we go! This’ll be the turning point for Dave, won’t be it? Things are going to change for him – hopefully! Dave certainly had the big character arc in Homestuck, even if he says people don’t have arcs.

And here we go!

DAVE: its really fucked up of me  DAVE: what im presently doing  DAVE: so  DAVE: sorry about that  DIRK: Oh, y-  DIRK: Yeah.  DIRK: Man.  DIRK: This is some fucked up shit alright.  DAVE: i know

This is much more than I expected. Of all things that could happen, a hug wasn’t even close to the top of the list. This is actually a pretty sweet moment, I’m glad it actually happened. Part of me was sure Hussie wouldn’t show them talking, but he did. I’m glad I was proven wrong about it.

So! There’s only one conversation left before things may kick into overdrive straight towards the last part of Homestuck! Roxy is going to meet Kanaya, surely to give her the matriorb. Things are winding down everywhere else, it won’t be long now!

Roxy appears from the skies with a ‘heeeeeey’ and repeats it a few more times, preparing the surprise by telling her to guess what she brought. I can guarantee that the matriorb is not going to be a guess here, hah!

KANAYA: Is It The Thing Behind Your Back  ROXY: yup but u gotta be more specific  KANAYA: Is It A Little Piece Of Paper That Says Hey On It  ROXY: hahahahaha no but that would be SO FUNNY! 

I won’t lie, I wouldn’t have been surprised if it hadn’t been that. Wish you had thought about it before. Maybe there’s still time to write “I.O.U one (1) matriorb” on any random rock and give it to her...or maybe that’d be cruel. Shrug.

Not wasting any more time, Roxy presents the matriorb, much to Kanaya’s astonishment. She’s so surprised she can barely express her surprise while Roxy tries to explain in vague terms. Look at that, Kanaya has tears in her eyes! It must be hard to describe, the feeling of hope in seeing the way the troll race is going to be resurrected. Keep it away from the Condesce and everything should be fine.

Nobody would have thought that the way to revive the trolls would just be given to her like this, but she can’t complain. There’s a lot of work to do, the mother larva isn’t going to raise itself. There’s a life of duty and work ahead of her.

Where’s Karkaroni, asks Roxy? “Meditating”. With his face deep into the dirt. You’re so lucky you’re telling this to someone Roxy doesn’t know very well, nobody else would believe such answer.

Roxy gets into her role of Rose’s mother and tries to know Kanaya better, asking about the meteor tri, where everybody formed small groups and only convened like twice of three times. It wasn’t the social jamboree Roxy imagined. Could have been worse, Roxy. It was worse once. At least now everyone is more or less getting along and Kanaya is aware she needs Karkaroni’s help so trolls aren’t like in Alternia.

...having doubts about fighting? Well I can understand Kanaya would want to protect the matriorb and that she believes her skills are not as good as everyone else’s, but if the Condesce isn’t defeated that matriorb will only be good as a paperweight. Roxy points all that and tries to give Kanaya encouragement about her skills. Well not many things can beat a chainsaw in power. That’s all enough to convince Kanaya to go with her and prepare for the fight.

Now that all the dialogue options are over, the point of view returns to the dream bubble where Vriska has gone to harass herself. Yeah, don’t ask me why she’s bothering to do this.

Okay, I read one page and I’m already feeling a bit sick. I don’t know how Hussie is doing this, managing to make me dislike Vriska after I spent most of her appearances liking her. In just a few hundred pages he’s managing to make me not want to read her anymore. It’s going to be difficult to write something that isn’t constant grumbling. Well, there’s one thing...

VRISKA: Remem8er when you used to care a8out that sort of thing?  VRISKA: No, o8viously not.  VRISKA: All you care a8out now is 8ullshit hipstery fashion trends, feeling "happy", and... whatever the fuck it is you're doing here?  VRISKA: Frolicking with some horses in an ugly field or some shit. VRISKA: Just a8solutely disgraceful.  VRISKA: How could I have 8ecome so selfish??  VRISKA: You do know this is selfish, right?  VRISKA: This isn't having some fucking "epiphany" or like "growing as a person" or whatever self-serving spin you might 8e putting on what's happening here.  VRISKA: It's just plain narcissism, the worst kind you're capa8le of. A total renunci8tion of any responsi8ility for contri8uting to the gr8ter good.  VRISKA: And it makes me FUCKING SICK. 

...I have no words. Yeah, looking for personal happiness is selfish, but there’s nothing wrong with being reasonably selfish. I just...I can’t say anything about this that isn’t some sort of circular argument that in the end isn’t worth typing here. I just can’t say anything.

VRISKA: Contrary to your lazy fakey "happy" shit, I've ACTUALLY GROWN AS A PERSON.  VRISKA: What do you think of THAT, you frivolous, dithering 8ITCH???????? 

Like hell you did!

Just...agh.

Looks like the dead Vriska wasn’t wrong, the horses really is a bad omen for her. Meenah is leaving her and going with the Vriska that is alive. At least Meenah has the decency to be conflicted about what she’s feeling and all, but damn, what a way to punch someone that’s already down, Hussie.

Meenah likes dead Vriska a lot, and she admits it, but she’s bored of having an idyllic life with dead Vriska. She wants to fight Lord English and here’s the chance to do it. Dead Vriska may have changed, but Meenah is the same than before, and that one isn’t content with sitting on the sidelines. That’s why she’s leaving – more or less.

I feel bad for dead Vriska. It’s almost hard to believe that the end for the character I knew for so long is this – or at least this seems like the end. It feels...weird. I feel really bad for her. I wish this hadn’t gone for this. Heck, Meenah deciding to go fight Lord English would have been understandable. I just wish this whole thing hadn’t needed to happen.

Hm. I think I should be stopping here for now.

Next update: next time

[sleepyfoodtruck]

back in the day (part 3)

swear to GOD i'm gonna link the other 2 fics lmao asdfg i just keep forgetting!!!

part 1

part 2

i think this is gonna be the last part of their "meet cute" (lmao), i'm gonna try and start writing about the actual mod during the weekend and stuff.

The school year had gone by in a blur, which was rather odd. Usually, Snowhill felt like the days just dragged on and on, it was annoying but she'd liked the predictability of it all.

Wake up at 6 AM. Go to school. Stay in class until 3 PM. Go home. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

Sometimes they'd go on field trips, other times she'd volunteer to help with a school function (for a grade of course) or to stay a bit later to clean up the classroom. Her whole life had been like that and she'd liked it enough, sure it was a bit lonely at times, but everyone feels like that sometimes, right? Besides, it allowed her time to practice her spells and potion-making.

After Coral showed up, however, things took a rather harsh twist. Long gone were the days where she'd know exactly what would happen, her routine went through the window and splattered all over the pavement. No mercy from her "new bestie for life".

Wake up at 6 AM, call Coral so she'd wake up on time. Go to school and don't unpack anything yet, lest Coral crashes into the table again. Stay in class until 3 PM, skip a class or two with Coral if she's too bored. Go home? Absolutely not, Coral's hungry and she wants to beat the record for most french fries eaten in an hour; remember to carry a thermos with tea for her stomachache. Refuse to eat at home because you're full of french fries. Stay up until late talking with Coral through videochat. Sleep an hour or two. Repeat.

It...was a lot to get used to. She'd complain all the way about the numerous changes in her day because, honestly, how messed up is it that you gotta re-acommodate your whole day for only one person?

Truth was, she didn't mind it that much. It was a bit annoying at the beginning and it did take a while to get used to. Sometimes she'd forget to call Coral and, though her friend never got upset about it, she did feel awful and ended up apologizing a lot. Other times she'd be "too down in the dumps" (read: depressed) to even go to school. On those days, Coral would drop by her house around lunch time and hang out with her; sometimes she'd drag her outside, by the horns, just so she could "get some fresh air in your itty bitty lungs!!!".

She never had anyone take care of her like that. It was gross and disgusting and she didn't want it to stop. Her family was very supportive through it all, they'd come to accept her new friend with no issue. Or, rather than accept...

"That kid's way too skinny for her age!!" her mom, a centaur, huffed "Have you been giving her the lunches I've sent?"

"I have. She chows them down, last time she almosr swallowed the fork" Snowhill sat at the living room table, working on her History homework.

"Y'know how seamonsters are, they eat too much and gain almost no weight" her dad sat down next to her, petting her horns and getting to work on new spells "My coworker's like that, at least".

"I know that! But still, she makes me so nervous" she huffed again, her tail swishing in agitation "Oh! I know! Invite her over next week, I'll make casserole!"

"Moooooommm..."

"Don't you sass me! You gotta take care of her, she takes care of you!"

"We're classmates, she sits right next to me and she helps me with math, of course I gotta take care of her"

Her dad snorted, dropping his spell book "Oh sure, "classmates". You hear that? That's what they call it now?"

"What? But we're classmates!"

"Sure you are, dear" though she was facing the stove, Snowhill got the distinct impression her mother had that sardonic smile, the one she loathed, the one that said 'I know more than you about this but I refuse to tell you, however I will laugh at you by the time you find out'.

"B-But we are!!!!"

_______________________________________________________

We're just classmates. Nothing more, nothing less.

Snowhill kept repeating that same sentence over and over. On her way to school, during classes, at lunch sharing her portion with Coral and on the subway back home.

She was absolutely sure of this fact. More than that, she was sure their relationship (whatever it was) was not what her parents were implying. She'd had crushes before, even a boyfriend and a girlfriend (kinda?), and this didn't feel anything like those two instances.

We're just classmates. Nothing more, nothing less.

Could they even be considered friends? Coral seemed to put more effort into their hypothetical friendship. She'd sit with her, help her with math and, recently, forced her to socialize with the rest of the class. She hated that last part though, it wasn't a lie that being lonely was just more comfortable for her.

We're just classmates. Nothing more, nothing less.

"What'cha thinkin' about?" speak of the devil.

Snowhill looked up from her knitting. She'd taken it up recently, her aunt and grandmother finally decided she was ready and had begun to train her; craftmanship spells were an ancient art in her family, and it was her turn to carry on the tradition.

Shrugging, she untangled a bit more yarn and continued knitting, the scarf slowly taking form "Nothing. Just trying to not miss any stitches"

"OOOOHHH!!! What're you making? Is this yarn?! It's such a pretty color too!!!" Coral grabbed the ball of yarn, twisting it between her claws and admiring the lush green color.

"It's supossed to be a scarf, granny said this was the easiest thing to start with"

The undine nodded, not answering as she was still too entertained playing with the yarn, her pupils ridiculously expanded.

"What the fuck, she looks like a cat?" Snowhill stared, perplexed "Why is that cute".

"Say!!" Coral stood, a bit dizzing from doing so too fast "Wanna come over this weekend? I found a super rad abandoned ship, I think you'd like it!!"

"Uh..." shit, shit, shit. How to turn her down without seeming like an asshole "I...have...goat things to do. This weekend. In my house. M-My goat house".

What??

"Uh-huh" the undine crossed her arms, an amused smile on her face "your goat house?"

"Yup!!!! My goat house!!!!" she started knitting again, missing every single stitch.

"Where you do goat things. Because you're a goat?"

"Yup!!!!"

"Soooo...I'm sure you won't mind doing your goat things in the sea? Your mom said you'd be delighted!"

"...You arranged this with my mom..."

"Sure did!!! See you by the shore this Saturday, 12 PM sharp!!!"

Shit.

______________________________________________________

The week passed by in a blur and, before she knew, it was already Saturday. That meant...Snowhill was gonna come by today!!! They'd hang out and check out the spooky abandoned ship, maybe she'd finally convince her to give sea food a try!!! Then, she could finally get her hands on her hair and braid a bunch of shells and small rocks all over it AND her horns. It promised to be a very, very exciting weekend!!!

...That is, if she'd just get in the water already.

"C'mon Snowy!!! The water's great, you've been standing there for fifteen minutes!!" Coral was lounging on a rock, her tail making small waves as it swished back and forth.

"Don't call me that" Snowhill gripped her sweater, a very tense expression on her face "I, uh, can't swim".

"Yes you can!! Your mom showed me pictures of you guys on the beach. She can swim, and she's half horse! You'll manage"

"The ocean scares me?"

"I'll be with ya, I'm the most dangerous thing in this part of the sea!!"

"My fur's gonna get wet?"

"I'll help you dry it later. C'moooon!!!"

The goat bit her lip, twisting the bottom of her very rumpled sweater. Coral sighed, she really didn't wanna pressure her and she did seem really uncomfortable. But, her mom said it was fine? If there was an issue, she would've been told, right?

Eventually, Snowhill sighed and began taking off her sweater "...Fine. B-But don't laugh. And...and don't tell anyone, or I'll curse you".

Excited, the undine perked up. She finally managed to tug her sweater off her horns and dropped it on the hot sand, twisting her hands and nervously looking around. As expected, she was incredibly hairy; as a goat, it was only natural. Coral still couldn't help but stare though, it hadn't occurred to her that it might be a problem and she might feel self-conscious about it; it looked so soft! She must spend hours brushing it.

Taking another deep breath, Snowhill slowly treaded into the water. Coral propped up on her elbows, a confused frown on her face; her friend had said she was a goat, so why--

"Why do you have fins?!"

She startled, a loud "BAAA" escaping her before she covered her mouth. Her very small but clearly visible ear-fins also dropped, she was mortified and her yelling wasn't helping.

"Sorry!!"

"UGH. This is why I hate the ocean!!! My fur gets stiff and these stupid fins come out, and my tail hurts and--"

"YOU HAVE A TAIL?!" Coral dunked into the water, way too excited to completely process the full sentence.

Sure enough, there it was: an honest to god mermaid tail complete with very fragile-looking fins and scales. The tail was coated with a light layer of fur, she still had her goat legs somehow. In fact, it looked as if she had attached a mermaid tail to her waist. A bit weird, bu cool nontheless.

"This is SO COOL!!! I knew you weren't a goat, but I didn't think you were a seagoat!!!"

"Y-You knew?! Who told you?!"

"No one! But, c'mon gimme some credit here" Coral stopped swimming in circles, placing her hands on her hips and looking a bit annoyed "I've lived in the sea my whole life, I could smell it on you".

"...Oh..." to her credit, Snowhill seemed a bit embarrassed "S-Sorry"

"No biggie!" she grabbed her hand, still tiny and still fitting perfectly with her own "This'll make everything so much easier!! We just gotta swim for a bit, enjoy the view!"

At first, it went great! They went slowly for a bit, so that Snowhill could get used to actually swim in the ocean again. They passed by a few schools of fishes, collected pretty seashells and shiny rocks and even tried a few mollusks; despite claming they were "absolutely disgusting", Snowhill still ate them.

They'd been swimming for a good 30 minutes before Coral noticed something was wrong. She was babbling about the abandoned ship, how there were some doors that wouldn't open but could, most definetely, be broken if they rammed something against them. She was about to suggest using her friend's horns, turning around excitedly just to notice she was alone.

Well, not alone. But Snowhill was slowly skinking to the bottom of the ocean, very still and very much not breathing.

"SHIT!!! WHAT HAPPENED?!" Coral quickly swam to her, lifting her with ease and going back up to the surface as fas as she could "Please don't die on me!! Please, oh god, please don't die on me!!"

She reached the surface in record time, throwing Snowhill on the sand roughly. As she grabbed her shoulders to wake her up, she couldn't help but watch in fascination how the tail disappeared; it slowly faded away, merging with the back of her legs and further up her waist.

"Whoa...n-no, I gotta focus!!" once again, she began shaking her "C'mon sis, wake up! You can't die here, we still got a test on Monday!!"

But she wasn't waking up, she was too still. Touching her face, Coral noticed that her skin was cold; Snowhill ran like a furnace, her being cold couldn't be a good sign. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hands on the goat's chest.

"Please work, just focus and don't dehydrate her" she looked at her face one las time, then closed her eyes.

Everything was still for a moment. Then, focusing very hard on extracting the right amount of water, Coral lifted her hands. A small bubble began to form, its color murky; a bit of sand was also inside, as if the goat had managed to swallow it somehow. Very carefully, she dragged herself to the shore and dumped the bubble in the sea. Her tail hurt considerably (there were many rocks and they cut deep), but she crawled back to where Snowhill was.

A bit of color seemed to return to her face, though it was hard to tell since she was so pale. With shaky hands, she gently slapped her cheeks.

"S-Snowy? Can ya hear me?" nothing. She though for a moment, then leaned down and whispered in her ear "The teacher said the math test's gonna be on Monday"

"WHAT?!" the goat got up and promptyl smacked her horn on Coral's forehead.

"OW!!!!" "FUCK!!!!"

Coral rubbed the sore spot on her forehead, while Snowhill coughed up what little water was left in her lungs. Gingerly, the undine rubbed her friend's back, the coughing fit lasted forever and it sounded awful.

"Ya good?" still rubbing her back, she sat down propperly. Her tail was ridiculously sore.

"Y-Yeah, sorry" Snowhill's voice was raspy, she still seemed to be out of it, as she leaned into her friend's side as soon as she stopped coughing.

"Oh! Um, good! You give me quite a scare there" a bit flustered, Coral hugged her back "What happened? If you don't mind me asking"

"..."

She didn't say anything at first, staring off into the ocean and breathing a bit too loudly. The undine took a deep breath and hugged her a bit tighter, she was so tiny and she was shaking and it was her fault and--

"I should've told you before, that's on me" she spoke slow and ver low "Yeah, I'm a seagoat. But I haven't been to the ocean in years"

"You don't like it?"

"Uh, it's not that. My fins are too small and my gills are under my fur. I'm not supossed to be underwater for more than 20 minutes" she paused, took several deep breaths and then continued "Used to be about...6 hours, but I moved to the city and there wasn't much time to come back to the ocean. I guess my body forgot it can breath underwater"

"I'm really sorry" giving into temptation, Coral rested her head right between her horns "It was a bit obvious, you were kinda anxious. I shouldn't have pushed ya"

"It's whatever. For what it's worth, I had fun"

"You did? But we didn't even get to see the ship!"

"Well, yeah. I mean, drowning sucked but-" Snowhill sat up a bit, almost snuggling into her "I missed the sea. We'll find a way around, maybe an air bubble will work better next time"

Next time? She was planning for a next time? Coral bit her lip in giddy excitement, trying her hardest to keep still. They watched the ocean for another minute, both shivering as a cold breeze blew past them.

"I'm guessing it's late enough, I should get going" reluctantly, the goat stood up and (slowly) walked towards her discarded sweater "Ugh, gross, its covered in sand"

"Wish you could stay over but, uh, I don't think it's a good idea" she brushed a bit of sand off her tail, hissing when some of it got into her injuries.

"What the fu-- you're hurt? Why didn't you tell me?" Snowhill walked over and dropped to her knees, placing her hands on her tail "Don't move"

"You don't gotta--"

"I'm not dumb, you must've done something to get the water out of me" the cuts and scrapes glowed green before closing themselves "It's only fair I help you out, too"

"Awww, bestie, you didn't need to do that!!"

"...It's...it's what friends are for"

_____________________________________________________

We're not just classmates.

Fuck.

[lifeofveronika]

NYC, 10/26/19

Months prior to this actual date, I knew I would be there. Brendan and C.J. were playing a set for BangOn! Warehouse of Horrors the day before, and since I very seldom get to hang out with them, I decided I would stay both nights in the city. Not a far, inconvenient trip for me. Seemed worth missing my parents annual halloween party, I mean, partly because Brendan didn’t even take a second to consider skipping a rave for something that was kind of important to me. But -

I digress.

Friday was fun. Their set was so incredible, and I loved seeing how happy Brendan was, even through his anxiety of it being a big deal. Lots of pressure, but they made diamonds with it. 

So now we come into Saturday. It was a nice day outside; we walked around Brooklyn and got some food, laid on park benches for a bit, found some weed and then trucked back to our AirBnB to start getting ready for the night. Of course, I was a little hungover and had a hard time getting motivated to rage once again, but I knew I had to. And I have issues with circumstances like that. Feeling “trapped” into something is like a breeding ground for my anxiety. Not wanting to let anyone down by pulling out of plans, not being able to speak up for myself out of fear of disapproval or perhaps just complete disregard. But Brendan was with me, so I thought “at least I have you. If I need anything, if I slip too far into my head, you’re here for me.” I know that this is becoming a much-to-common phrase I am using in my writing, but ...I was wrong.

Before we had even left the apartment, I had scary, dark thoughts in my head. I always try to tell myself “if you anticipate failure from the beginning then you have no chance at succeeding. Success is a mindset at times; a different perspective on a situation at hand. The success I was looking for was just being able to make it through the night peacefully, and with a little fun. That did not happen.

It took us about 40 minutes to get to the venue in our Uber. Those horrible, dragging 40 minutes had me holding back the nausea my anxiety was causing like nothing I’ve ever had to do before. There were even a couple times at red lights where I had to stop myself from slamming the door open because I felt like I couldn’t even breathe. But I pulled through until we got there. Upon exiting the Uber, I knew that was it. I got sick on the sidewalk on a main street in the city, people walking around me but I couldn’t muster up the ability to care. I wanted to run home. I wanted to cry in Brendans arms. But I put on my brave face and again, rejected my idea of “failure.”

We stayed at WoH for probably 15 minutes, such a waste of a free entry to a big show, but they wanted to go to another venue, and you know me: I say nothing. Why? Because I didn’t want to be a burden. I didn’t want to put myself in a situation where its 3 versus 1 in a game of “Hm, I wonder whose plan we’ll actually choose,” only to have mind so obviously rejected and then I’m back doing exactly what I had to do. Nothing would have changed, so I stay silent.

This place was a madhouse. No room to walk, no room to dance, no room to breathe. The second we walked in I knew I was doomed. At this point I was so deep in my head that I couldn’t even fake my emotions anymore. I was miserable, bordering on a panic attack yet somehow mustering up the strength to keep it just at bay. Just a little longer, I would tell myself, it will pass. But it only pushed me deeper down. 

I was mad. Mad at myself for being so fucked up in the head that I couldn’t pull it together to have another fun night. Mad at my “friends” for neglecting to see that maybe I needed a minute. Mad at Brendan because his facade of “caring” was shallow enough for me to see right through. Of course, he didn’t like the fact that I was struggling, but when push came to shove, he chose the party over me. And thats just a sad, cold, hard fact.

Finally, I decided to give up on the possibility of the night turning around. I knew I had failed. I looked up at Brendan; I could feel how horrid the look on my face must have been. I was shaking, but I forced the words out. I gotta get out of here. He walked me to the outside smoking area; just the fresh air alone lifted a little bit of the weight from being inside, but it wasn’t enough. I told him that I was going to leave, and that I was sorry. He didn’t question a thing. He asked me if I was okay, as if that weren’t an obviously answerable question. I was the furthest from “okay” that I had been in a while, and he’s a smart guy, he knew it. I didn’t want to ruin his night further, so I didn’t ask him to come with me. I didn’t tell him how bad I was and how I didn’t think I should be alone. I didn’t want to believe it myself, so I couldn’t make it real for him. 

I have fallen before. I’ve attempted twice, and thought about attempting many more times than that. Part of me knew that night held potential to be a third, but I ignored it and said nothing. I guess that’s a problem in itself. But really, what kind of a person would I be if I looked Brendan in the eyes, at a show I knew he wanted to be at, and said “Please don’t leave me alone, I’m having thoughts of suicide.” Rereading that made me feel stupid, because obviously my life is worth more than a show, but in the moment it felt like it wasn’t. I can’t hold someone to expectations if they don’t know the whole twisted slur of thoughts running circles in my head. 

He told me he would be back in 3 hours. He thanked me for compromising and “letting” him stay at the show, and told me that in 3 hours time, he would come back to the AirBnB to be with me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyways, but I figured if I could get through these next three hours, then it’ll be over and I can relax with the man I love.

3 hours went by, and his phone was dead. I had a minor panic attack when I had first got back, but managed to sit on the couch and rock back and forth like a crazy person until my heart rate slowed. 

4 hours.

5 hours.

Nothing.

I felt abandoned. I felt worthless. I felt so utterly unimportant in the present moment, which only pushed my thoughts into a darker place. I started hearing those words again. You can make it stop. You can make all of it stop.

I climbed out onto the fire escape and tried to take a deep breath through the tears. I looked down and I could feel myself leaning too far. I wanted this. It seemed too easy, like it was the universe telling me it was time to just “let go.”

Symbolic, really, how something as simple as letting go of the metal banister could help you let go of everything. But instead, I gripped it tighter. 

In the past, the only thing thats kept me from following through was the thought of how it would effect my family. How alone my little sister would be. How betrayed and useless she would feel. How broken my mother would be, and how confused my father would be.I think there’s a certain darkness in that fact too. I hold on for others, but not for myself. 

8 hours went by, and finally they came home. I was in pieces, and I just wanted to leave. I almost did, too. It wasn’t difficult to get back home if I really wanted to. Something in me made me stay. I wanted to see the look on his face when he realized how alone he made me feel. I wanted to look into his eyes and make him feel how I felt. Disregarded completely.

He knew instantly where my head was. I said nothing, and just waited until we could all go our separate ways. He looked so sad, I remember. And it made me feel sorry for him. I really believe he didn’t fully understand the severity of my situation, but then again I thought “would it have changed anything if he did?”

He got defensive, which is natural. He blamed everyone but himself for fucking up. I didn’t want to hear any of it. It almost hurt me more, feeling like he was trying to “clear his name” or make it seem like he was the victim as well. It’s much harder to fix problems when you’re not together, though. And even though I could have tried to make some time to talk to him while we were together, the idea of it made me sick. I didn’t even want to look at him. I didn’t want to look at myself, either. I had no shred of caring left. I just needed to get away from them. 

In the days following, I tried to be honest about how I felt. I told him I forgave him, but it was a lie. I knew I would, eventually. And it just seemed to be hurting him too much. So I decided to try and ease his mind, with hopes it would maybe boomerang back to me. Instead, it got harder to talk to him. Going back to casual small-talk and trying to act normal/loving when you’re bleeding is incredibly difficult. But I pushed through, for him. The entire time, though part of me never wanted to even see him again, the stronger part of me just wanted him next to me. I took that as a subliminal sign that I truly believed our connection was real, and worth saving. 

I tried my best to not think about it, like I do with most things, and it started to work. I felt better in general, but as the weeks passed I felt a disconnect forming. The distance we struggled with made it that much worse. But the last time I had touched him was when I didn’t want to be anywhere near him, so that feeling kind of stuck. I didn’t have a warm embrace and a passionate kiss to fall back on. Rather I had the remembrance of a hollow hug and an emotionless peck to fall back on.

I believe him now, that he is sorry. He’s made me feel like I’m important to him, and thats a nice feeling to hold. But I can’t let go of my apprehensions towards future situations. My social anxiety has gotten worse since WoH, and sometimes I wonder if it’s because I feel like that night solidified my belief that even those who promise to be there for you won’t be. Not always, at least. 

I still fight this perpetual feeling that I am completely alone every single day.