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handthigh · 4 years

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Soooo I may or may not have gone crazy and gone stupid and wrote a whole ass one shot fanfic of Tianshan in the office AU

ETA: this is now also available at AO3! (ETA 2: This is now a multichapter fic!)

Big thanks to the people over at Tianshan discord for taking a read and giving me the feedback. The fic follows right after this paragraph, with notes at the end of the fic.

He Tian (Work):

Little Mo, pass me a stapler (6:35pm)

Frowning at the message notification, Mo Guan Shan wordlessly takes the stapler lying on his desk and wheels his chair out of his cubicle to pass to his next door neighbour who grins upon receiving the stationery from the redhead. The reciprocity is not returned however, as Guan Shan wheels back into his cubicle to complete a report the supervisor had dumped onto him 15 minutes before the time he ends work. It is already bad enough that he is working overtime on a Friday while being the only one stuck with He Tian, the last thing he needs is for the annoying colleague to interrupt his progress.

The report turns out even more taxing than expected, further souring Guan Shan’s mood. He glanced at the time displayed on the laptop, “6:55pm”. Great, the report’s barely done and closing time sale at the nearby sandwich shop is already over. So much for a “quick task”, he scoffs bitterly at his supervisor’s words.

As if He Tian can read his mind, comes another text:

He Tian (Work):

Little Mo, are you cursing out the boss in your head again? (6:57pm)

Damn it, not another interruption. Glancing at the new message, Guan Shan cringes at the accuracy of the guess. Guilt quickly turns into irritation however, as he glares at the cubicle separating him and the culprit of these messages. This has been going on for about 3 months now, ever since he was assigned to be seated with He Tian at the corner of the office. The reason? The supervisor claims that only the short tempered Guan Shan is immune to the raven haired’s hunky looks while workers of all genders in their department are too busy admiring He Tian to work productively. Guan Shan tries to suppress his gag upon the memory.

First of all, Guan Shan does not appreciate being called short tempered. He just has little patience and a lot of irritation for mindless small talks and forced formalities, that’s all. Second of all, seriously? Of all words, hunky? While Guan Shan admits that He Tian is a looker because after all, he has eyes; but that is certainly an exaggeration. Sure, He Tian has the physique and face for the magazine covers, but he’s not that good looking. Especially not when he assigns Guan Shan that stupid nickname and constantly texts him for no justifiable reasons despite already repeating many times that he only wants to reserve the texting to a minimum and keep it strictly to work matters.

Wait, what the fuck? Why is he thinking about him again? Ugh, this is why he emphasises on keeping social interactions to a minimum! The report and the constant texting must have really gotten to him, because the next thing he knew, Guan Shan picks up his phone and types at his source of annoyance.

Me:

Yes, genius. Since you’re so smart and volunteered to OT with me, why don’t you make yourself useful and help me out with the report then you chicken dick! (7:05pm)

Normally Guan Shan tries to keep his temper in check, wanting to believe he is no longer the moody middle school boy that he was. Besides, this is the first job he managed to get right after graduating university 6 months ago, just in time before the recession. Thus, he is not trying to screw up an opportunity just because he got involved in some petty office drama. However, the combination of working overtime, growing hunger and unnecessary buzzing of his phone followed by He Tian’s unnecessary messages is making Guan Shan throw both caution and formalities out the window.

He is not the only one surprised by his own outburst however, as He Tian guffaws and rolls his chair out of the cubicle to meet the redhead, currently glaring at him and asking what’s so funny.

“Chicken dick? What kind of insult is that? Also, I dunno, I just thought you’d never asked me for help.” He Tian replies with a shrug and his signature grin.

He Tian is not wrong - Guan Shan seldom asks for help, believing that it’s better to be self-sufficient than to rely on someone else. Furthermore, it allows him to avoid having to keep up with forced interactions with others. But it’s getting late and the report doesn’t seem to be finishing soon, and there is someone in the office right now, might as well right?

“So are you going to help me or not?”

“Sure, anything for you Little Mo~”

“Stop calling me that! Give me your email, I’ll share the document with you on the cloud.”

So, here they are at 7:30pm, working in a shared online document together - cubicle to cubicle. Guan Shan mainly typing out the content of the report while He Tian formats, elaborates and adds any figures and charts where appropriate; explaining his rationale to the other while he works.

As Guan Shan sees the report transform before his very own eyes, he is now confronted with the thought he’s been trying to will away for 3 days, ever since he overheard the company executives discuss whether to promote He Tian.

As much as he hates admitting it, He Tian is talented and hardworking when situations call for it. Not only is he able to easily handle the tedious formatting that is typically required of such reports, he also goes the extra mile of further perfecting any tasks assigned to him. It also helps that he has great social networking skills to accompany his equally great looks, not only charming the other coworkers around them, but also clients and other company staff alike in network events.

Attempting to ignore the ache of admiration growing in his chest, Guan Shan wonders why is someone as good as He Tian working at an entry level job like him in a medium sized company when the latter can easily negotiate for a much higher salary in a conglomerate. What he heard about his raven haired coworker isn’t helping much with his curiosity either.

While Guan Shan prefers minding his own business, he also doesn’t live under a rock. He has heard the rumours - that He Tian had interned for various big names while he attended an Ivy League business school and graduated a valedictorian. He was also rumoured to be taking over his family’s multinational company branch in China while his older brother gets based overseas to look over their international branches. Yet somehow, here he is, working overtime in a too small cubicle with an aloof coworker who has nothing to boast for. After all, Guan Shan’s resume mainly consists of mediocre grades in a local university that is far from being a C9 League, one proper internship experience and multiple part time odd jobs to help him pay his student loans.

He Tian has everything going for him, and yet, why? Guan Shan is so lost in his own thoughts that he does not notice an arm reaching out to his laptop and folding it down, clasping his fingers that are resting motionlessly on the keyboard.

“Ouch! What the fuck?!” Guan Shan stands up and yelps in shock, spinning around to glare at the culprit. This proves to be a mistake as he realises he is face to face with He Tian, barely an inch away.

Suddenly, the room feels hot and all Guan Shan can hear is his heart rapidly beating in his ears as he sees a totally different expression from the latter: lips twitching up, high cheekbones raised making them even more pronounced, coupled with a pair of grey eyes sparkling and curving in childish amusement. Even though he knows that He Tian is laughing at his expense, somehow, Guan Shan could not bring himself to break eye contact, wanting to look as long as possible until he commits He Tian’s genuine smile to memory.

“Earth to Little Mo, I said I was done with the report and had emailed our supervisor, and was thinking of treating you to a sandwich as a thanks for your effort.” He Tian replies, amusement laced in his voice as he breaks the silence.

“...How do you know I like…” Guan Shan dumbly replies, still feeling overwhelmed by the close contact to even retort He Tian as he feels his face getting even hotter.

Breaking eye contact, He Tian steps to the side and fishes out his car key, hooking the key ring to his finger. As much as he finds his flustered colleague both amusing and endearing, he makes sure to give Guan Shan some space in case the other gets too stunned and passes out. “Well, who else in this office eats those except for you? So what do you say, it'll be my treat and I can drive us there.” He Tian says as he leans back on the cubicle wall, spinning the car key around.

“.... Uh… mm” Guan Shan nodded, feeling too light headed to speak properly.

“Let’s go then.” He Tian steps out of the cubicle, making his way out as he turns off the office lights.

Guan Shan’s mind is reeling as he follows He Tian from behind. Why is he suddenly reacting like this? Why did he agree to have dinner with him? Most importantly, WHY IS HE SUDDENLY HAVING SUCH THOUGHTS OF THAT ANNOYING CHICKEN DICK?

God, he hates working overtime.

Notes:

If you made it here, thanks for reading! I’ve been wanting to write a fluffier, slice of life office romance with Tianshan for quite awhile now - an AU with no mafia drama, no She Li being a creep, just coworkers dicking around and relatively normal problems here and there. I only committed after getting reminded of this official Tianshan art by Old Xian on the discord. Aside from 19 days, I also draw inspiration from a webcomic called Senpai ga Uzai, Kouhai no Hanashi. I’m a huge sucker of slow burn fluffy Tianshan where Guan Shan is initially annoyed at He Tian and slowly and reluctantly falls for him. Hehehehehehehehe *continues to laugh in fujoshi*

Not going to lie, I do feel nervous posting it. However, after seeing many Tianshan fics (they are good! don’t get me wrong) that doesn’t have a workplace AU, I thought I’d manifest it onto the internet space! Do let me know what you think, as I am considering expanding this into a multi-fic once I stop being lazy.

#19 days #he tian #mo guan shan #tianshan #fanfic #office au #oxian #old xian

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thenewlarislynn · 4 years

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Penny For Your Nightmares?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Prompt List #76 “I had the weirdest dream”)

Word Count: Approx. 2k

Possible TW: Nightmares, Near Death Experience

Requests Open! See notes at bottom for details!

~~~

The waves came crashing down around you. Thunder boomed overhead, and lightning struck the water. With every stroke you made the surface seemed to grow farther and farther away. A cry tried to escape your lips, but as soon as you opened your mouth water filled your lungs.

You shot up in bed, heart pounding. Electricity danced along your fingertips, increasing the level of static energy in the room. It happened again. No matter how many times you told yourself the fear was irrational, nightmares still plagued your dreams. Sam tried his best to get you to go to therapy, but you thought you could deal with it yourself. Trying to shake off the clammy post-nightmare feeling, you lightly stepped out of bed. The cold wood floor sent a shiver down your spine. Grabbing the slippers from your bedside, you slipped them on. That was better.

As silently as possible, you opened your door and creeped down the hall. The absolute last thing you needed was the team waking up. Thankfully the kitchen was right down the hall. The time displayed on the stove clock illuminated the counter. 3:01 A.M. Deep down you knew you needed rest, but the idea of a nice hot cup of coffee appealed to you more. Besides, after what happened, you weren’t sure if you even wanted to go back to sleep.

Taking out your favorite mug from the cabinet, you added in the perfect amount of coffee and sugar. Tony liked to make fun of you for not using the coffee machine, but there was something so soothing about preparing it yourself. As you filled the kettle up with water, a voice came from the living room.

“You know, Sam says tea is better to have at night. Caffeine will just keep you up.”

Your heart skipped a beat as the kettle clattered noisily into the sink. “God, Bucky don’t scare me like that. Almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry doll,” you rolled your eyes at the pet name but you smiled anyways, “mind if I ask why you’re up in the first place?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you said, purposefully dodging the question.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” he countered. You sighed in defeat as you continued filling up the kettle. There was no way you’d be able to leave this kitchen without talking about your feelings. God, Sam was practically determined to turn everyone in the tower into a psychologist. “Alright fine.” you said, turning on the stove, “ I had the weirdest dream, happy now?”

“Well, I’d be a lot happier if you told me what exactly this weird dream was about.”

“Okay, so it wasn’t a dream, more of a nightmare. I was caught in the flood again. Except this time I never made it out. It felt like my lungs were filling with water, I couldn’t breathe. Instead of being saved by the lightning strike, I drowned.” You said it all in one breath, not wanting to dwell on it. “I know it’s stupid, because in reality I didn’t drown, I’m perfectly fine. And yet,” you trailed off, staring at the coffee grounds in your cup. Bucky made his way to the kitchen counter and took a seat on the barstool next to you. “Doll, look at me,” when you didn’t even glance up he grabbed your coffee mug away from you. “Hey,” you exclaimed, “What was that for?”

“I asked you to look at me, and you didn’t so I had to come up with something else. But now it’s my turn to share why I’m up. You’re not the only one in this tower plagued by nightmares. Every night I relive my days as him. And even though I know that part of me is gone, that I’ll never be the Winter Soldier again, the thought of it still terrifies me. So no, it’s not stupid.”

“What do you do to cope with it all? I feel like sometimes it’s just too much to deal with.”

“That’s just it, doll. Sometimes things can’t be ‘dealt with’, and you need to talk to someone to help you through it.” You rolled your eyes as you snatched back your cup. Sliding off the barstool, you walked back over to the stove. “Sam put you up to this, didn’t he,” you asked as you poured the water.

“No,” Bucky sighed, “he didn’t. But he was the one who encouraged me to open up about things. Something you could benefit a lot from.” “Alright, say I do talk things out, then what?” “Then you have a support system who can help you.” “Well, I don’t know-” Bucky cut you off, “How about this, if you aren’t ready to talk to a professional, the next time you have a nightmare you come to me and tell me about it. Alright?”

Turning to face him, you nodded in agreement, “Okay, deal.” As you took a sip of coffee a sudden clap of thunder shook the tower. Lightning lit up the darkened room a second later as rain started to pour down.

Your blood ran cold as you felt fear grip you. Closing your eyes you kept telling yourself that you were safe, but it wasn’t helping.

Bucky looked over at you, worry laced in his voice, “Doll, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s nothing just the storm,” you paused for a moment but then decided to open up a little. As you walked back to the barstool, you took a deep breath. “The flood was caused by a sudden storm like this one. I don’t mind a little rain, but when it’s unexpected I just freeze up.”

He gently put his hand over your own. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.

You shook your head ‘no’, but then reconsidered. “I was going to sit on the couch and try to watch some dumb reality TV,” you replied quietly. “It usually helps me to calm down to laugh at something, and it could block out some of the noise from the storm. Would you want to watch it with me? If not that’s alright, I should be fine.” “No, that sounds great, besides I wasn’t planning on going to bed anytime soon,” he answered with a smile.

That’s how you two ended up falling asleep on the couch together, HGTV playing in the background. You awoke the next morning to find that Bucky had ended up wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders. Somehow you managed to slip out of his embrace so it wouldn’t result in an embarrassing situation.

Neither of you talked about it that day, but a few nights later when you were up again from another nightmare you found yourself back on the couch with him, this time watching a sitcom.

Before either of you realized it, it became a habit. If you or Bucky woke from a nightmare, or if a sudden storm came on, both of you would go to the living room and put on some cheesy show. Luckily none of the other team members ever found out, or you’d both be teased about it relentlessly.

Through it all, you found yourself developing feelings for Bucky. Even though you tried to tell yourself those feelings were strictly platonic, you’d be lying if you said you would refuse a relationship with him.

It wasn’t until a month later when you realized just how dependent on him you had become. Bucky was out on a mission, but since it was a low-level threat, you were able to stay at the tower. Some of the team had accompanied him, so the compound was a lot quieter than usual.

Wanda was preparing dinner while you and Sam sat at the counter debating conspiracy theories.

“I’m just saying, don’t you think we would know if Area 51 had aliens? We’re the Avengers, and Thor is literally an alien.” “No, Sam, because I don’t trust the government. Just because I technically work for them doesn’t mean I need to believe everything they say.”

Wanda chimed in, “I think it might be something from another dimension. Didn’t Dr. Strange mention something about a multiverse when he helped us with that mission last year?”

“Exactly,” you agreed, “it doesn’t have to be an ‘alien’ as we would define it.”

The lights started to flicker, and an uneasy knot formed in your stomach. Sam glanced at the lamp and back at you, “Y/N, are you doing this?”

“No, it must be a storm,” you responded, your voice shaky. FRIDAY’s voice spoke over the intercom, “There is a severe thunderstorm coming in. Flash flooding may occur.” It was like a vice was crushing your lungs. You didn’t want the others to see you panic over a storm, so you made up an excuse. “Ya know what guys, I’m not feeling hungry. I’m gonna go lie down for a bit.”

Wanda and Sam exchanged a look as you exited the kitchen but said nothing.

As you crawled under the covers of your bed, you put in your earbuds and started playing some soothing music. However it didn’t help, and nothing could help you fall asleep. You crept to the closet and pulled out an oversized shirt. Bucky had lent it to you during one of your reality tv marathons and you never ‘found the opportunity’ to give it back. At some point you probably could have, but you wanted to hold onto it for a little while longer.

Slipping it on over your head, you took a deep breath. It still had traces of his cologne on it, and it made you feel a bit safer. When you crawled back into bed, you fell asleep almost immediately.

A knock resounded at your bedroom door, and you answered groggily, “Come in.” “Hey doll, I just thought I’d let you know the mission went well. By the way, Sam mentioned that you were acting strange during last night’s storm,” he paused mid-sentence, a slight smirk on his lips, “Is that my shirt?”

You glanced down, vaguely remembering slipping it on the night before. “Possibly,” you answered sheepishly. “I couldn’t sleep and you weren’t here so I just, sorry,” you trailed off.

“It’s fine, it looks cute on you,” he mumbled, brushing a loose strand of hair back from his eyes. “But I came here to ask if you’re alright? Sam told me about you leaving when the storm hit and I was worried.” “I managed to fall asleep, but it took a while. I’m feeling better now, though.” “There’s another storm on the radar, do you want to go play Uno or something until it ends?” You smiled in response, “That sounds great, thank you.” When you put down the +4 card and called out “UNO!”, Bucky laughed and rolled his eyes.

“Wow, I had some good cards that time too. You’re lucky I decided not to play them.”

“Uh huh, I believe that,” you chuckled.

Later that night during the team movie night you found yourself sitting next to him, head on his shoulder. “I think I love you,” you whispered, thinking he wouldn’t hear. Hoping he wouldn’t hear.

He turned to look at you. Damn that supersoldier serum. “Say that again doll?”

Taking a deep breath, you felt your chest tighten. Might as well get it over with, you just hoped it wouldn’t ruin things between the two of you. “I love you,” you repeated, still a whisper, but more sure this time.

“I love you too. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to mess things up, but I love you too.” “Look, I get you two are having a moment,” Sam said from the other side of the room, “but some of us are trying to watch a movie.”

~~~

General Taglist:

@sydneyisnotawriter

@dark-night-sky-99

Hey y’all! So this is from a prompt list I’ve been looking at for ideas. I will be posting the list right after this and will link it here! My ask box and inbox will be open to requests, just give me a number and ship! (No pedophillia or incest ships tho please!) As always, likes and reblogs are appreciated! Love you all <3 (And if you’re protesting please stay safe!)

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lifeinahole27 · 4 years

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CS ff: “I Come Close” (Part 2/3) (au)

Summary: They’re not really rivals, but not really friends. What they are, instead, is the best sex they’ve ever had. It’s easy and simple, even with the rules they have in place. So what happens when those rules start falling apart?

Rating: Explicit - This chapter contains blindfolding, sensory play, and restraints.

A/N: It took me until just now to discover I’d never added a summary to the last chapter. Y’all do know you can let me know when I fuck that shit up, yeah? Anyway, here’s part 2! Part 3 is finally finished and in edits so I figured I could get this whole thing posted before I go on vacation next week.

Part 1

Find it on Ao3!

-x-

Part 2

Killian wants to blame all of this on the merger their company went through a year ago. And by "blame" he means "thank profusely," of course. That’s the only reason that Emma Swan came into his life. They were both senior project managers within their original companies and now they’re practically pitted against each other because of their own competitive streaks.

He remembers the way she came into his office on her first day, striding right up to his desk and planting her palms on either side of his name plate, fire in her eyes as her hair fell over her shoulders.

“You stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours,” she declared. It had been suggested they work together on some middle-ground projects, but they’ve both waved it off and split the files, preferring to work with their own teams.

And then, something shifted. They were each working late one night and he could hear her swearing up a storm, so even as he shut down his own office for the night, he made a decision to go to hers.

“Everything all right, Swan?”

“Just fucking dandy,” she replied, scowling at the screen in front of her.

“I know it’s against our nature to help each other out, but is there anything I can do?”

She’d looked up at him, then, considering him from behind her glasses, her hair swept up into a ponytail.

“Actually, there is something you can do,” she’d replied, an innocent smile forming across her lips.

A half hour later, she was leading him inside her apartment. Forty-five minutes later, her hands were holding his head in place as he did everything in his power to get her off.

It started as just sex. They had rules, of course, including those regarding the location and frequency of their visits. And no kissing, Emma had announced as her hand closed around his erection that first time. They were rules they’d strictly held in check for the last six months that they’d been sleeping together.

Right up until the moment Emma showed up at his apartment and kissed him before she left.

Since that day two weeks ago, they’ve seen each other after work every other day, sometimes going to his place instead of just to hers now. They’ve not kissed again.

When he shows up on a Friday after they’ve both left work for the day, he’s treated to a new surprise: Emma answers the door in a satin robe, pulling him in by his tie and locking the door behind him. He barely has time to take off his shoes before she’s leading him to the kitchen table, slipping the plastic bag off his prosthetic hook as she goes.

“I wanna talk to you about trying something new,” she tells him as she pours the wine. “We’ve been doing this long enough that I trust you like… a lot. You know as well as I do that we’re always expected to be the ones that call the shots at work. Well, tonight, I want to give you that control over me. Is that okay?”

“Much like when we first began this, love, I just ask that you let me know what I can do.”

“We’ll get to that. Dinner comes before you do,” she says, grinning as she doles out the containers.

She makes sure the whole kitchen is cleaned before she leads him back to her bedroom. The lights are dim, and her nightstand has been cleared of the miscellany that usually clutters it. Those items have been replaced by a bundle of satin, a bottle of lubricant, and a few sensory items that he doesn’t really focus on, instead turning back to Emma.

“You have something in mind?”

“Well,” she says, going for the satin first. “I want you to help me with these, and then the rest is up to you.”

The bundle is, in fact, two restrains and an eye mask. The restraints are soft, and she shows him how to loop them around her wrists. They don’t tie, which means she can escape from them if needed. He does, however, have to tie them to her bed frame, but he waits until she’s put the eye mask on her head and gotten comfortable against the pillows. She rests her arms overhead and he works from there to tie the straps to the bars closest to her.

She tests them a few times, making sure they’re the right tension, before she lays back and tries to relax. Her eyes land back on him, watching with interest as he loosens his tie. When he notices he has an audience, he slows down, drawing out the act as he makes eye contact with her.

He sets the tie on her dresser, moving next to the buttons on his shirt and making quick work of those. The shirt gets draped over a chair she has in the corner of her room, and he quickly shuffles off his socks at the same time. Her eyebrow pops up in question when he turns his attention to releasing the straps that hold his prosthetic in place.

“You don’t have to,” she tells him, and he can tell by her voice that she’s just trying to make sure he’s comfortable.

“I want to,” he says quietly, leaving the whole contraption next to his tie.

Down to just his trousers, he moves back to the bed and stands there considering where to start. He supposes the first order of business is to undress her.

“Shall I strip you with or without the blindfold?”

“Without.”

“As you wish.”

He tugs carefully on the tie holding her robe closed, giving a pleased hum as it easily comes loose and he can push apart the two sides to reveal nothing but a simple thong. Already he can see the dampness on the crotch and he looks up at her as he smirks.

“So wet already,” he comments. He moves closer to her side, kneeling on the bed for a moment to ease the blindfold down over her eyes. “You say ‘stop’ and I will do so immediately, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, her voice sounding breathy already.

He moves away from the bed again, instead weighing his options on the sensory items she’s left out. There are three items on the table: one is a feather tickler, one is a small vibrator, and the last is a small wheel with dull spikes on it.

He starts with the wheel, hoping to catch her off guard by not going for the tickler first. As quietly as he can, he moves to the bottom of the bed, hovering just close enough that he can reach without giving away his position. With a quick motion, he runs the wheel along the arch of one foot, biting back a chuckle when she twitches and brings her whole knee up.

“Seriously?” she exclaims, The surprise evident on her face even with her eyes covered.

“You’ve given me the control, Swan. Just try to relax.”

She grumbles out something that he very much wants to respond to but turns his attention back to setting the wheel back against her skin and rolling it up her shin. He draws patterns around her knee and zigzags his way up her thigh before moving back to the other leg. He can hear her exhalation of disappointment and almost tells her she’s in for a long night of sighs like that.

Going along the outside of her thighs is fun, but it’s when the wheel dips to her inner thighs that he really enjoys. He gets to watch as she tugs at her restraints, her hands reaching as if wanting to pull him to where she wants. Just as quickly, her arms flop back to the pillows.

The rest of her skin gets the same treatment - he runs the wheel across her abdomen, where she squirms away from the ticklish sensation. He rolls it between her breasts. He varies the pressure as he goes to different areas, watching the way she twists and moves in reaction.

Before moving on to the next item, he instead chooses to remove her underwear. He uses his hand and teeth to drag each side of the thong down at the same time, enjoying the way she says his name like a curse as he does.

He wants so badly to sink into her already, to bring them both to completion in any way he can, but he knows she wants more than just one of these toys used, so he opts to grab the tickler after he drops her panties on the floor. This time, he starts from the top and works his way down. From the space just below her wrists, all the way to the tips of her toes, he brushes the bundle of feathers across her skin.

Deciding to add a new element to it, he climbs onto the bed and straddles her with one knee on either side of her torso. Other than kneeling on the robe that was trapped beneath her, he makes sure he’s not hurting her in any way.

“Still okay?” he asks, needing that verbal confirmation before he continues.

“Yeah, good,” she responds, moving just enough that her skin brushes against the fabric of his trousers. He watches as goosebumps form across her skin and her nipples tighten up further. He bites his bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to kiss her right now, as she is, but holding back to honor her rules.

He doesn’t say anything further, instead leaning up so he can draw the tickler across her wrists again. This time, however, he follows the line of the feathers with his tongue, using it to draw intricate patterns along the path.

It’s the first time her control breaks and she moans. He does the same on her other arm before moving down her chest. He shifts to straddle lower on her body so he can access each new part he plays with. She tilts her head to give better access to her neck, then arches up into his touch when he gets to her breasts.

For a moment, the tickler gets left to the side as he does a thorough job of licking and nipping at each breast. By now he knows exactly how hard to bite each nipple to get the perfect response, and today is no different as she cries out, bucking her hips up in hope of meeting some kind of friction.

He shifts again so one of his knees presses against the juncture between her legs as he licks across her chest and down her abdomen, giving her a taste of what she wants as she rubs her center against his leg. Before she can get off, however, he moves again.

Ignoring where she wants him most, he continues to trail down her legs, enjoying the noises she makes when he brushes the feathers across the backs of her knees as he nips gently at her kneecaps. Down he goes until he gets to her ankles, and then repeats the sequence again on the outside and inside of each leg.

She’s panting by now, and even with the lights as low as they are he can see she’s glistening with her own moisture. The vibrator and lubricant, it seems, will have to wait until another time. He moves off the bed for a moment in order to carefully shuck his trousers and boxers, watching in interest as Emma cocks her head and wondering if she can tell what he’s doing or if she’s trying to hear where he is.

When he notices how parched he is and how she’s repeatedly closing her mouth and swallowing, he decides it’s okay for one last little trick. As he stands at the foot of the bed, he wraps his hand around one of her ankles and moves her leg outward. He repeats the same motion with her other leg, leaving her spread open for him.

“Don’t move,” he instructs before exiting the room as quietly as he can and heading for her kitchen. He knows by now where she keeps her cups, and he finds one with a lid and a straw that he’s seen her drinking out of during meetings. He fills it quickly and heads back to the room.

“Sit up a little and drink,” Killian tells her, guiding her to the straw and smiling gently when she greedily gulps.

“How did you know?” she asks after she quenches her thirst.

Instead of responding, he takes his own sips from the drink before stopping up the straw and pulling it from the cool water and leaving the cup on the nightstand. Starting between her breasts, he lets drops escape as he moves down her body and she gasps and arches.

“You asshole,” she pants, but whatever she planned to say after that is long lost as the last final drops land just above her clit. The straw gets thrown to the side as he moves quickly, sucking up those drops before closing his mouth around her clit, his tongue flicking across it in swift movements.

He’s coerced a lot of noises out of her in their time together. She has moaned his name in every cadence he could possibly imagine. This time, she shouts, and he knows that he’ll have hell to pay for this eventually. He only lets up long enough to fully move onto the bed between her legs, burying his face between her thighs and working with the singular goal of making her orgasm.

She was already close, so he’s not surprised when he barely gets through tracing her clit with a “K” as he’s going through the alphabet and she traps him where he is, cursing his name and tugging tight at the restraints for the first time during this whole adventure. She bucks up into his mouth, riding out the pleasure as long as she can before she collapses back to the bed, her legs and arms all going limp at the same time.

So lost is he by leaving little kisses along her pubic bone that he doesn’t notice she’s slipped off one of the restraints until her hand is buried in his hair and she’s tugging hard. Killian moans against her heated flesh, his hips stuttering against the mattress for a second.

She releases him to push up the blindfold, where she meets his gaze with her heated one. “Get up here and fuck me.”

“As you wish,” Killian says again, hoping eventually she’ll get the reference and infer the meaning. But until that day, he does just as she commands.

-x-

Part 3

#cs ff au #cs smut #captain swan ff #sarah writes ff #captain swan

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cardinaldaughter · 3 years

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My Wavy/Curly Hair Journey

So at the end of 2020 I came across a TikTok about wavy hair. The girl in the video was talking about hair types and she said if you have a certain type of hair, it’s wavy/curly and you should embrace your waves/curls. Well, she described my hair perfectly, and I don’t know if it was because it was 10 pm on New Year’s Eve or if it was because we’re going on like a fucking year into this pandemic or what, but I felt ✨inspired.✨

I’ve always had wavy hair. But I’ve never known how to style it, or enhance the wave/curl. So I began my descent into the Curly Girl lifestyle to see if they could help me “embrace my waves”.

After hours of watching videos/reading blogs, I found myself going out that weekend on my usual grocery run, but in addition to that list, I had a list of products recommended by 2b-hair influencers on YouTube as well as from the CurlyGirl subreddit.

I bought a curl cream, gel, microfiber towel, soft scrunchies (they were supposed to be silk but I couldn’t find any and I wasn’t about to order online because damn it, I want curly hair now!) a clarifying shampoo, and a special conditioner for curly hair.

Now, I am not a high maintenance person. I like makeup but I have never bothered to learn about contouring and doing all the fancy stuff you see on Instagram. I wear some eyebrow filler, mascara, and sometimes a winged liner and lipstick. That’s it. Similarly with my hair, I am usually very low maintenance, and I think that’s part of why my hair has been so healthy. And while I’m not particularly confident in my appearance, my hair is a source of pride for me.

So, pre curly girl, this was my hair routine:

Sunday night- wash hair with Tresemme luxurious moisture shampoo. Use Tresemme luxurious moisture conditioner and leave it in for about 10 minutes. Rinse that out, then squeeze out excess water. Spray Milkshake leave in conditioner and gently brush hair. Air dry until bed, then braid and go to sleep.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday- brush hair, use a bit of Shae moisture hair oil to smooth things out. Maybe straighten it, if the mood strikes. If I straighten it I use Tresemme heat protectant spray.

Wednesday night - repeat Sunday

Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday - repeat Monday

There were some exceptions to this of course, but that was the general deal. And my hair was shiny, smooth, soft, and while still a bit frizzy, very healthy.

Then I started using the curly conditioner. It’s the same brand as my normal conditioner, so I didn’t see too much difference there. But then I began implementing these stupidly named techniques like “squish to condish” and “scrunch out the crunch” with the gels and creams. I stopped brushing my hair because the mantra of “don’t brush your waves/curls” was screamed at me from every curly hair blog and video I found. So I didn’t.

Until my hair began getting fairy knots. And falling out.

I was assured in these curly hair videos that hair falling out was part of the process. And to some extent that is true. I lose a few strands every time I wash or brush my hair. But when I added these extra products and stopped brushing (and only finger combing when my hair was wet) I think I managed to lose 3 times as much hair in one shower than I’d lose generally in a week! My hair got dry, and the products left my hair feeling greasy. If I used too little product it was greasy with little waviness. If i used too much it was decent waves in the morning that quickly deflated into a stringy, greasy mess by the afternoon.

I got a couple compliments on my waves/curls, but I had never been so unhappy with my hair.

I was told that maybe my hair was too long and the ends were weighing me down. I hadn’t had a haircut in a year thanks to the pandemic but I found a new salon that stuck to safety guidelines and went and got about 4.5 inches cut off (it needed it anyway so I don’t regret that at all), but even still, the waves and curls weren’t holding. It was just a dry, hair-falling-out l, greasy mess.

I read more and considered going strictly full-capital-CG Curly - no shampoo (I refuse to call it “no poo”. I REFUSE), co-wash only (wash with conditioner, which I have done before- on accident- and hated how my hair felt afterward but was willing to try again), and get rid of all products with certain ingredients (which meant getting rid of my milkshake spray, which was devastating because my hair responds so well to it). THEN I leaned that for some people, a strict CG method isn’t the answer, you should stick with products you know your hair likes, and that technique is more important that product.

Glad I didn’t throw out my old stuff.

So I tried a few different techniques, switched up the order and amount of products I used, tried wet plopping, the pineapple, squish to condish, diffusing different ways- all of it.

My routine became

Sunday - wash with a clarifying shampoo, use the curly conditioner (squish to condish!), rinse that out, add leave in conditioner, finger comb (and spend ten minutes pulling out hair), squish in curl cream, add gel, use microfiber towel to soak up excess water, wet plop, dry and diffuse, “scrunch out the crunch”, and then pineapple or braid for bed.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday - wet hair, add curl cream (squish to condish!!!), add gel (use praying hands to apply, then squish!), use microfiber towel to soak up excess water, plop, dry/diffuse, scrunch hair to break up the gel casing on curls

Wednesday night-all of the Sunday routine, but don’t use the clarifying shampoo.

Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday - all of the Monday routine

And nothing worked. And not only that, but my time spent washing, styling, caring for my hair had tripled, and to no benefit. Itnwas honestly so much worse.

In my frustration I’d go back online and try to figure out what I did wrong this time. I would see posts on that subreddit of women saying “it took a year of CG but my curls are finally starting to do what I want!” And they had a list a mile long of products/routines they stuck to religiously.

And I had this sudden, horror-filled realization that I don’t want to be miserable for a year only to have some halfway decent looking curls.

So over the past four days, i went back to my old routine. I stopped wetting my hair and scrunching it and drying/diffusing it every day. Last night I washed it and conditioned it like I used to. And after three days of not using a bunch of products, of brushing my hair gently, I hardly had any hair fall out. Today I used a heat protectant and straightened my hair. And it’s so soft, and smooth, and shiny, and it doesn’t have that awful greasy feeling that it did when I was wearing it curly.

And I am so much happier.

I know that people with very curly hair need to use certain products to maintain their curly hair health, and I think that’s great and applaud them for the dedication. But I also think, if you have to buy a ton of new products and wait a year for your hair to “finally embrace” your curls... maybe your hair isn’t a naturally wavy/curly as you’d like to think it is. Like, I know my hair is wavy. But it looked so much better when I wasn’t loading it up with products. It felt better too.

I only lasted three and a half weeks trying to “embrace my curls” but i think I learned a very important lesson: I am much happier with healthy hair, than wavy hair.

I do like the microfiber towel and the scrunchies though. Those two things can stay.

#I applaud those who stuck with it and got the curls/waves they wanted #but this lifestyle isn’t for me #bc it IS a lifestyle #the amount of dedication and work is just so much #and I can’t do it #I don’t have it in me

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fuck-customers · 5 years

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Big Bird Deli, Part 3

Continued from https://fuck-customers.tumblr.com/post/185625162330/continuation-of-the-big-bird-deli-story-found

Now, I know you all want me to say I got a new job and rubbed it in my store manager’s face. Sadly, reality is often disappointing. My top choices so far sent back general rejection emails and I’m looking into different industries to branch into. Now, it's not all bad news, but in order to get into the good news, I need to tell you all a story about one co-worker; our constant call off, whom I’ll refer to as CCO. Buckle up for a long story.

CCO was transferred to our store from the one about five minutes down the road a little under three years ago now. I was still in my first year when she transferred in. As I worked with her, she seemed like a good co-worker. Knowledgeable, dependable, she even taught a bunch of tricks to make the job easier. Then, some things started to bubble to the surface.

At first, the only bad thing about her is that she took a long time in the bathroom, 10-15 minutes, pretty much a break without clocking out for one. CCO’s explanation for this was biological, but she couldn’t identify her condition. Skeptical, but ok. Then, she’d also take a long time to get a drink (Non-alcoholic). Managers caught sipping a drink in the break room, and even the training room (Small room with computers for basic training/OSHA/Food Safety) and told her multiple times, she could only do that on breaks. She’d also do stuff that led to numerous signs in our back hall. She’d try store dry food there, take drinks back there, and she’d be on her cell phone on her shift way too much (Mostly showing her cats, making notes, not talking or playing games).

Then, she began to talk constantly. She’d talk with customers even after their orders were done. I constantly saw customers get that “I need to get going but I don’t see my chance to leave yet” expression, and she’d keep blabbering on for a few more minutes as the customer slowly tried to inch away. But it wasn’t just customers, CCO would do the same to co-workers. She’d blabber on while doing nothing or only very small tasks. Sometimes her conversations sucked you in, even though the topics were things from youth, church, or constant updates about her cats (she and husband got up to FIVE cats, and yes, introductions to them included pictures.) I had the highest tolerance for these stories, not sure why.

Now, I can handle those things above. But it got worse. So. Much. Worse. After our store got remodeled just before CCO came in, tasks were updated to include not only sweeping the department floor every night but also washing and squeegeeing the floor. CCO made excuses so she wouldn’t be the one doing it. She’d do anything she could to pass it off on that night’s co-worker. She made excuses that it hurt her back, but refused time and time again to get a doctor’s note to excuse her from the task. She also made excuses that it was tiring, but she stopped those excuses after only a couple weeks. This, coupled with many closers forgetting some tasks, provoked our Deli Manager to make daily task sheets starting this past summer, mostly focused on the closing staff. I, personally, am ok with the sheets, as I view it as a tool to acclimate new employees to the department tasks.

But here’s the big one. She ‘began’ to get migraines within six months of her transfer. She’d slow and become less useful during work, taking long treks to get water and basic medicine that seemed to do the trick at first. The kicker is that she began to call off once every two weeks. Now, you may think that’s not so bad and it’ll count against her. Wrong. She applied for FMLA (Family and Medical Leave Act) for her migraines. She could spend a TON of hours towards it, and she could reapply when she ran out. I started out sympathetic, as I have family members with migraines, but they have methods to curb it so they can work. CCO started calling off once a week. Twice a week. This year, it went up to three times a week. And it was almost always on the same co-worker, Nice Coworker (NC). NC became stressed, she didn’t even want to be scheduled with CCO because of it, but sometimes had no choice. I saw NC break down in tears multiple times. She threatened management to not call her if CCO called off on Sundays, cuz she wouldn’t come in at all. Our deli manager retaliated by trying to schedule CCO less. CCO retaliated by complaining about her hours and claiming hours of other co-workers due to seniority!!! She’d just take their shifts and call-off anyway! So not only was she causing hours to drop, she was basically stealing money from people who actually show up for work.

This all caused morale and productivity to plummet. We were stressed, aggravated even. All the while management still wanted everything perfect while not addressing the problem. And since we’re union, management has to give CCO chance after chance before she’s finally fired or CCO will just run and cry to the union about ‘unfair termination’. We also got wind from people in the store down the street (Sometimes people over here have to cover over there and vice versa) that this behavior happened down there, but not to the extent it got down here, and was the reason CCO transferred. We also learned that she’s had this behavior at all the past jobs she told anyone about. This woman is ten years older than me and hasn’t learned any lessons about her behavior.

Oh, but the cherry on top of this comes in the form of gaslighting and manipulation. CCO dared to call NC her friend while she was claiming NC’s hours and calling off on her! CCO would apologize and say that she “was a shitty person,” and that we “must hate her”. Insincere apologies, self-bashing designed to make you say “No, you’re not a piece of garbage!”(even though she was). CCO also spread rumors about a friend who’s like a brother to me (from another department) when he briefly got in deep trouble. She did this because she thought she could get his full-time position once he was fired (A position that took him being there 12 years and his manager begging multiple times on his behalf to get). Needless to say, I heard through the grapevine and began to truly hate her.

Oh, and remember those call-offs? CCO’d often do those on the weekend, y’know, the busy times. Especially Sundays. Since she was a “Good Christian™”, she’d want to go to church on Sundays. Ok. Reasonable. Then, she called off on Sunday evenings, a shift that’s hell to close alone. Again, on NC mostly. She’d do this repeatedly until our Deli Manager decided to not schedule her on Sunday, two weeks in a row. CCO smirked and told NC that “Her plan had worked!” and that she won’t work Sundays (She didn’t put them off on her availability because it was discouraged, and sometimes even rejected, to not work weekends). To say that, and say that to the person she called off on constantly, is just despicable. Many of us told our deli manager as soon as possible. If she didn’t schedule CCO on Sundays, she’d work on Sundays in any department she had experience in (she’s cross-trained in the Hot foods and meat departments).

At the start of this year. Everyone in the department hated her. Some would be catty or strictly business with her. I opted to pretend to not want to rip her face off, otherwise, I risked forwarding that bile to customers, and I have cried on CCO’s shoulder in the past due to previous work-related bullshit (not the story above). But, we finally had some news from the grapevine; CCO’s doctor AND corporate had picked up on her FMLA abuse. It was flagged as abuse because during times her FMLA expired and needed to be redone her migraines had ‘mysteriously’ disappeared. No call-offs until after FMLA was reinstated. Her doctor told her that he wouldn’t approve more and even if he did, it wouldn’t be approved by the company. By our calculations, she’d run out at the end of May. She ran out mid-May. All we had to do was wait.

And this past week, the good news! Turns out CCO didn’t help NC much the Saturday of my paid vacation. NC went to Store Manager on Wednesday, on her day off, to report CCO. Store Manager told NC that CCO, and potentially all of the deli, was going to get pulled into the office soon one by one. Details couldn’t be said due to confidentiality but NC said that shit was about to go down, we all just didn’t know what. On Friday, now mid-June, our Union Steward (A worker to represents the union while not working for the union directly) came and got CCO and pulled her into the office with Store Manager. Ten minutes later, CCO was escorted out of the store by Loss Prevention. The scales finally tipped when the customer complaints stacked up, and that she got into a verbal argument with a co-worker (Not me or NC) with a manager as a witness. Said co-worker was at the store on her day off, shopping and chatting with us briefly. While CCO passed by, CCO called her a bitch, in earshot of Loss Prevention. But that was the last we’ve seen of CCO.

Slight dancing was had, and upper management reminded us that this is an opportunity to turn the deli around. We got a new person who started during my vacation. She’s absolutely amazing and gets along with everyone. It’s only been a few days, but already other departments are commenting that the deli seems happier and that a great weight has been lifted. I always joked about giving CCO this big speech in a dark, even tone and saying she needs to go on disability or welfare if her work ethic or migraines are that bad. But, I decided against doing a big Facebook drama thing. Instead, I blocked her on social media and her phone number. I’m glad to finally cut her out of my life permanently.

As for me? I’m still at Big Bird. Now that the main problem is gone, I can take my time finding a good job and not go for the first one that gives me an interview. I still want to leave because of upper management, and I haven’t received confirmation that my write up was overturned. Things are looking up, and I’m glad we now have a solid, competent team as we get ready for the 4th of July sales.

Last word: I was going to post this as is, but today, I heard something amazing. A co-worker had to work a split shift, beginning down the road then coming up to our store. Turns out, CCO didn’t tell her husband that she got fired! She told him she was on vacation! And he works down the street! I busted up laughing, imagining scenarios when he finds out she lied. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall for that confrontation. :3

TL;DR

Not much has happened other than a co-worker getting fired and absolutely deserving it after putting the deli under so much stress.

#submissions #happy ending #fuck co-workers #fuck coworkers #retail justice #submission

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areluctantsblog · 5 years

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Teacher!Tony wrong number au - Part 4

I'm super excited to post this chapter for two reasons. Firstly, because I'm introducing a few familiar characters and a sort of new one. Secondly, because this chapter got so long that I decided to break it into two. I hope it works for you all, let me know, I’m grateful for every feedback. 🙂

(part 1, part 2, part 3)

After that torturous lesson on Monday, Tony decides that he won’t text Peter Parker again. It’s no more than a bullet point in the list of reckless things Tony swore to avoid from Monday on, yet it still feels important to point out. Tony’s a teacher and Peter’s a student. Their relationship ought to be defined by their roles and even those three times they texted was enough to blur the lines and mess them up. That is, if Peter’s behaviour was anything to go by Monday afternoon. And even if the boy is all right, Tony won't forget anytime soon the disturbing reaction he had to the situation. What situation that was exactly, he doesn’t know, and he isn’t too keen on labelling it, either. Giving it a name would only make it real and that is the last thing Tony needs.

Tuesday morning Tony catches himself keeping an eye out for Peter Parker wherever he goes. It’s almost as if he’s afraid of meeting the boy. Or is it that he’s eager to? Well, Tony most certainly isn’t afraid of the boy. His own reaction, however, is an entirely different story. As for wanting to see Peter, yes, he might wish to, but only to make sure again that the boy is all right. It’s only reasonable, wanting reassurance. Helping him, if he needs to. His motivations are completely respectable, Tony thinks – then feels his stomach drop when he mistakes a sophomore for Peter.

By lunchtime he loses count of how many times he told himself to get a grip. He knows that he will meet Peter eventually and some part of him is confident that it will be all right. Things will go back to normal in no time. Peter will have gotten a confidence boost and Tony will have proved to be able to stay at the rational side of things all by himself. Everything is going to be fine. That is, if he finally comes to his senses and starts treating the situation as he should. Like it never happened. Like it should never have happened. Not with that twitch in his chest, that feels frighteningly like regret, every time he remembers his resolution.

He sees Peter again on Wednesday morning. They exchange the small smile and polite nod Tony expected the first time and it’s alarming how effortless it is. A part of him tells himself to be happy about it, but that part also does everything to ignore the rush of adrenaline and the fluttering of his stomach accompanying that smile. And the disquieting suspicion of what it all might mean.

By Thursday night, Tony feels more exhausted than ever before during his teaching carrier. He desperately needs to get it off his chest. He pours himself a whisky, sits on the sofa and looks Jarvis deep in the eyes.

“I’m in trouble,” he begins. The dog tilts his head with a soft whine.

“Yep, it’s not good,” he sighs. Then he realises what he just said and hurries to add, “but it’s not bad either. I’m just blowing it out of proportion.” His firm voice makes the dachshund put his head down on his feet timidly.

“I enjoyed texting him, yeah, but who wouldn’t?” Tony pleads, waving his glass dangerously in the air. “He’s one of those new generation kids who grew up online. Of course, he’s funny and easy-going. And me? Okay, let’s not start with that,” he allows when the dachshund covers his eyes with a paw. “The point is, that nothing wrong happened. And nothing will happen. I just need to calm the fuck down,” he finishes, burying his face into his hands. “Ugh. Why can’t I just… Shit!”

Prompted by Tony’s strangled voice, Jarvis hops onto the sofa and nudges his thigh with a small paw.

“It’s all right, buddy,” he says, sitting up. “Well, it’s not, not yet, but we’re here to figure it out, aren’t we?”

Tony finishes his drink and refills before he speaks again.

“And so, what if I find him interesting? He is an interesting boy,” Tony insists. The dog whines again. “Yes, okay. I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t I notice him before? Do I only find him interesting because we texted? Because we did something forbidden? God, I’m fucked up. But okay, let’s say I do. I feel this, this attraction – strictly in a physical sense. As in relating to physics, not, not the other thing. Yeah... But, but it doesn’t mean that I have to act on it. That’s what makes us human, isn’t it, J?”

“I wouldn��t know, boss, but my Talking to Himself protocol has just been activated” says another voice with a soft British accent.

“Hey there, mother hen. I wasn’t talking to myself. I was talking to your four-legged cover-up,” Tony quips back at the AI.

“You programmed this protocol to ignore entities that are unable to answer in any known human languages,” J.A.R.V.I.S. informs him.

“Oh, but look at him, he’s all ears. And he was being most supportive, didn’t you listen?” Tony chides, petting the dachshund's head gently.

“I did listen, and about what you sa…,” J.A.R.V.I.S. begins, but Tony interrupts him.

“I didn’t upload my painfully earned self-knowledge into your archives for you to just throw it back at me.”

“So how can I help?” J.A.R.V.I.S. asks, sounding more concerned, than offended.

“How about you make me a hot bath?”

“Right away, boss.”

“That went well, wouldn’t you say?” Tony whispers conspiratorially to Jarvis, as he scratches behind his ears. “I just hope it goes well with Peter tomorrow, too.”

Surprisingly, it does. The hot bath and the unusually peaceful sleep seem to have made a difference, because Friday morning Tony feels calmer than he had in days. He tries to whoosh away the idea that this newfound serenity might have more to do with finally seeing Peter again, than successful coping. But even if it is so, he can’t wish away his emotions. He just has to keep it together for a short time, a few weeks maybe, certainly not more than three and then his life would become safely uneventful once more. It already looks promising. During the lesson, Tony’s in a much more reasonable state of mind than last time and Peter looks at him again.

Tony he knows himself too well to relax, though, despite feeling relieved on his way home for the week-end. Believing that it’s all behind him just because one lesson went well is… tempting. And that’s exactly what makes him wary. Tony is aware, even if he doesn’t feel them at the moment, that some of the messy, irrational and absolutely inappropriate emotions he’s been dealing with all week linger on.

As a consequence, Tony has the most irregular weekend in a long time – well, none more so, than the last one when he texted a student, but he doesn’t count that one. Instead of staying in his workshop, he spends almost all of Saturday in Central Park with Jarvis. He watches skaters, talks to a nice paintress, feeds the ducks and walks more than he thinks advisable in the chilly weather. It works reasonably well. Even though Peter pops into his mind at least a hundred times during the day, Tony at least doesn’t spend his evening fighting off more thoughts of the boy. He barely finishes feeding Jarvis before he collapses onto the sofa, fast asleep.

When Tony wakes up a little before noon he’s both grateful for only having to come up with half a day’s worth of distractions and annoyed at himself for that thought. After walking Jarvis, he grades a few freshmen’s homework, but stops when he almost falls asleep. Later in the afternoon, after spending a miserable hour trying to concentrate on lesson plans, Tony turns his TV on and in a desperate attempt at distraction, selects the superhero movie with the most handsome men running around in tight suits. It doesn’t help. Getting slightly aroused by all the action and sexiness and at the same time wondering who Peter Parker’s favourite character is… Well it’s as far from making things better as it can be.

When turning in unusually early for the third night in a row, Tony resolves not to make any more resolutions. His attempts at dealing with the situation seem to have yielded mixed results. Results, he feels unable to untangle at the moment. So, Tony decides to just go about thing as usual – or at least as close to usual as he can manage – and see what happens.

What does happen the next day, however, is nothing he prepared for. Thankfully three nights of long, uninterrupted sleep gives him enough presence of mind to avoid making a scene, but at the end of the period Tony can barely wait until the last student leaves the classroom before he takes out his phone and texts Peter.

Aaand stay tuned for part 5 which is almost ready and coming soon 😉

Notes: Yes, Tony has J.A.R.V.I.S., the AI and his reasons for keeping it a secret – hence Jarvis, the dog, who looks like the one in the pic below. (And of course, you’ll find out what those reasons are, if you stick with me for a bit longer.)

Thanks for reading and special thanks if you share your thoughts on this chapter with me 🙂

Edit 10-02-2019: Part5

#starker #teacher!tony #wrong number au #part 4 #dog photo not mine #the dog isn't mine either #a reluctant writes

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sapphicscholar · 5 years

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Pride Month Prompts Day 3: First Date (Majorly Judging You - Lucy/Alura)

From this Pride Month Prompts post! I’m taking the opportunity to write some short fics for a variety of pairings that I haven’t written for as much, maybe at all. They won’t be going on AO3, so I’ll be sure to tag them all with #pride month prompts so you can find them later if you want.

Day 3: First Date

Pairing: Majorly Judging You (Lucy x Alura) - told ya this month would be about taking a stab at writing for ships I’d never written before

A/N: Remember how I said I was gonna try to cap things at 1,000 words? Oops.

Age 15: Technically speaking, it was not a date. It was four teenagers all hanging out and getting pizza. At least, that was what Lucy told her father when asking if she could go out that coming Saturday. In reality, it was a double date, and Lucy’s first date at that. Derek had asked her out after the basketball team won the championships. It didn’t matter that he was only a sophomore and therefore only got to play about 5 minutes of the game; he was still a big deal, and he had really nice dimples, and Lucy happily agreed. The date itself was fine, if a little awkward. Derek talked more to Chad than he did to Lucy, so Lucy talked more to Julie than she did to Derek, but when they got the check, Derek paid for Lucy and Chad paid for Julie, and when they walked around town, they paired up and held hands and tried not to think about if their palms were sweaty. At the end of it, Derek kissed her, tasting like pepperoni and the whole handful of mints he’d shoved into his mouth when he thought Lucy wasn’t looking. It was nice. Better than her first kiss at one of those multi-school mixers she’d gone to last year. Later that night, he texted her to say he’d had fun and ask if she might want to do it again. The yes came easily, and even though the relationship only lasted until the end of the school year, she didn’t regret it. It was simply time for it to be over, for them to both move on.

Age 17: Not seriously dating anyone for a whole year hadn’t been intentional, but it was hard switching schools mid-way through high school, and she didn’t want to get a reputation by saying yes to the very first boy who asked her out, especially when she didn’t even know his last name, let alone anything else about him. After a full year at her new school, though, Lucy decided some fun fling was rather overdue, so when Arun started swinging by her locker a bit more often than was strictly necessary, Lucy paid attention. He had dark hair and deep brown eyes, and he was sweet in a way that made her stomach swoop pleasantly. Her friends nodded their approval when he asked to sit with her at lunch one day, and within a week, he’d asked her to the movies. Deciding Arun could do without the parental disapproval on date 1, she lied and told her father that she was going to the movies with all of her friends from the track team. Theoretically, they were also going to the movies that Friday. Just not with her. Or the same movie. Not that she and Arun saw much of the movie. After watching half an hour of an action flick that didn’t seem all that different from every other action flick out there, they both decided it would be a shame if they didn’t take advantage of their back row seating to make out, and they only stopped after a staff member flicked a flashlight over at them and asked them to “knock it off. Please.” Lucy forced herself to look apologetic until he left, at which point she had to muffle her laughter with her whole hand. Who would have thought Lieutenant Colonel Lane’s daughter with her Dean’s List honors would be the one getting busted for inappropriate behavior in a movie theater? From that point on, Lucy decided Arun was good for her. He made her feel light, insisted she have fun. He did things like let her throw popcorn at him while he lunged out of his chair to catch it in his mouth in midair. He made a scavenger hunt with little candy rewards at each stop for her 18th birthday. He bought her a West Point sweatshirt when she got her acceptance letter, even though she already had a ton from growing up in an Army household, telling her that she deserved a new one to celebrate her accomplishments. They tried to make long-distance work after graduation, but it became clear that the 12 hours of distance between them and the rigors of life at West Point weren’t exactly conducive to a relationship. So they called things off during a teary coffee date over winter break.

Age 21: Lucy had long admired the graceful way so many women carried themselves. The slope of an elegant neck. The soft, smooth skin so well maintained. She thought they were beautiful, but in that untouchable, graceful kind of way. It wasn’t until her junior year she realized that kind of admiration might mean something more, something deeper, something about her. Not incidentally, junior year was when she got close with Ximena. They’d clashed during Lucy’s first two years, always somehow at each other’s throats, competing for some privilege or award or honor. But then they went and got to know each other beyond a semi-anonymous rivalry. And it turned out Ximena was more than just smart and athletic and talented; she was sarcastic and funny and able to make Lucy smile, even when everything seemed to be going to shit. And she was pretty. God, was she pretty. After several months of going from rivals to friends to best friends, Ximena went and mentioned an ex-girlfriend from high school. Lucy was silent just a beat too long, and Ximena bolted. It took Lucy three full days to figure out what she wanted to say, and she had a whole speech prepared--hell, she’d taken notes in a shorthand that she was positive no one else would be able to decipher--but when she found Ximena looking guarded and wary and sad underneath all of it, none of the words felt right anymore. Instead, Lucy pressed her lips hard against Ximena’s and felt a part of herself she’d never known to look for before suddenly light up, nerve endings and atoms and neurons all crackling to life and sending her hands into Ximena’s hair while she lost herself in the feeling of Ximena’s mouth, hot and desperate and just a touch too hard. Their dates were all secret, disguised as study time or long runs or even sparring sessions that left them both turned on enough to be nearly reckless. During the summer before senior year, Lucy tried hinting about her newly discovered bisexuality to her father, only to have him dismiss it at every turn. And she didn’t want to disappoint him--not when she’d finally made him proud with all that she’d accomplished at his alma mater--so she carefully, quietly withdrew. Only Lois knew, but she had her own life, her own boyfriend, her own place in the world that was increasingly far away from Lucy and their father, and no matter how many times she insisted that Lucy was welcome at any point, she couldn’t help but feel it as a distancing.

Age 30: After things with Ximena finally fell apart after a year of long distance, with both of them out on active-duty and their letters censored to a point of emotional stiltedness, Lucy took a long hiatus from the dating world. Celibate, she was not, but she wore her singledom like a badge of honor, dedicating herself full-time to her tour of duty, to her graduate studies at Harvard, and then to her work as a trial counselor. Over the years, she watched as the honors and accolades piled up, and each time a new one came, she preened under her father’s attention, trying not to focus on why that sense of fulfillment never went deep enough for her to feel it--to feel it in the way she’d felt the warm weight of Arun’s belief in her before she left for West Point or the deep-rooted sense of security in how proud she knew Ximena was, even when Lucy’s victories meant a second-place finish for herself. But then she was back stateside in Metropolis, and James Olsen was hanging around that boyfriend of Lois’s she just knew would end up a fiancé any day now. Lois had laughed and rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath about “calling it” when Lucy had asked her who the tall guy was. Still, whether her sister had called it or not, James was handsome, and his deep laugh seemed to echo all around them, filling the whole room with a sense of levity, and when he wrapped his strong arms around her, she felt safe. It was enough for her to ignore a lot of signs that things weren’t working, but eventually it all became too much. First it was him choosing to chase Superman all over the city instead of spending time with her. Then it was her choosing to devote all of her time and energy to her job instead of to building a relationship and a life with him. By the time they were rekindling things in National City, he had found himself a new girl--and, because the world loved irony, as it turned out, he’d also managed to find himself a new Super who he could admit to crushing on without worrying about what it meant--and Lucy found herself caring less and less about putting in the effort to fix a relationship that seemed broken beyond repair.

Age 35: Ever since law school, Lucy had sworn she would never date another person in the legal profession. No lawyers. No clerks. No law professors. Nothing. But then a judge from Krypton with wavy brown hair and sharp cheekbones and a way of talking that was deliberate and precise and made Lucy want to sit and debate her for hours before maybe leaning over and kissing her for another few hours showed up. Of course, nothing was easy, so she turned out to be Kara’s mother, the one they’d all assumed was long since dead. For months, Lucy resolved to be there for Alura as a friend and nothing more. Everything was messy enough as she attempted to adjust to life on Earth and rebuild a relationship with the daughter she’d sent away to save, only to doom her to decades spent grieving the planet and the people she’d believed were lost forever. Of course, being there for Alura as a friend also meant seeing so much more of Alura. It meant long days spent talking about other planets and ways of life together. It meant sweaty afternoons spent in a training room helping Alura, who had decided, despite having no military training, that she would fight alongside her daughter to regain her trust, to show her that she firmly intended to establish a life right alongside hers. It meant nights spent helping Alura acquire furniture and decorations and all the little necessities for her apartment that had, somehow, begun to feel a whole lot like their apartment. It took a joke muttered in the DEO’s control room with Alura nearby enough to overhear it for her to ask Lucy point blank if they were dating. It took another week for Lucy to sort through her own feelings before coming back to Alura with an answer: No, we’re not dating. Yet. She tried not to look too pleased when Alura’s expression fell, but it was a matter of seconds to rectify it by explaining that she’d like to start, or at least to try. The homemade dinner at Alura’s apartment didn’t feel that different from the many nights they’d spent there together over the months leading up to their first official date. They still shared stories from their pasts, their hopes for the future. But this time that future included a possible “us.” It included the near future and plans for dates and outings they’d go on, not only as two friends, but as a couple. At the end of the night, it felt perfectly natural to lean in for a kiss--the same kiss Lucy had been telling herself she was just fine without every other time they shared a meal together. Instead of the electrifying frisson of excitement, the earth-shattering discovery of some new part of herself that she’d felt with Ximena, the kiss she shared with Alura felt like all those pieces that had been unsettled and upset as she discovered herself were finally falling back into place, righting themselves in a new order that felt good, that felt whole, that felt like home.

#pride month prompts #majorly judging you #lucy x alura #lucy lane #Alura Zor-El #supergirl #fanfic #ficlet #retrospective #lucy-centric

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skammovistarplus · 5 years

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Culture and Translation - S01E05 and SKAM+ Clip 2

I will come back to the rest of the episode 2 clips, as well as episode 3 and 4. I just wanted to get this out of the way before @lightsandlostbells catches me off guard with a Skam España recap again. 😉

CLIP 1: Zaorejas goes international

Hometown: I remember this also coming up in some discussions of og Skam. In Spain, there was a big population shift from the 50s to the 70s where people moved from the small villages they came from, to the cities. Naturally, people kept the ancestral family home and didn’t sell it. So, when Cris is talking about visiting her hometown, it’s more her family’s hometown. She was probably born in Madrid, after the population shift.

Long weekend: the 12th of October fell on a Friday this year, so episode 5 fell on a three-day weekend. The 12th of October is a national holiday in Spain, and yes, it commemorates the anniversary of Christopher Columbus’ first arrival in the Americas. It used to be called Día de la Hispanidad (Hispanic Day), so as to celebrate… Spain’s… Connection to Latin America. Anyway. The name was changed to Fiesta Nacional (National Holiday) in 1987. We also celebrate Constitution Day on the 6th of December, which is similar to July 4 in the US and May 17 in Norway.

Eva was planning on studying Physics and Biology over the weekend. That means she’s on the Science track of Baccalaureate.

Zaorejas: Cris’ family hails from Zaorejas, in the region of Guadalajara. This village has 133 permanent residents as of 2017. If you wanted to do sightseeing, it has the remains of a Roman aqueduct, Roman roads and a Celtiberian archeological site.

Hulio: Hulio is a well known Spanish meme that people I consulted decided should stay, rather than be substituted for a similar meme in English. Read more about Hulio here.

Guiris (tourists): Guiri actually means any non-Spaniard, whether they are actually tourists or staying in Spain for a longer period. You’re more likely to be called guiri if you’re from the US, Canada or north of the Pyrenees. It doesn’t matter whether you’re fluent in Spanish, but it helps not to have an accent (which is, in fact, what keeps Cris and Nora from getting called guiris themselves, lol).

CLIP 2: Good luck on that sex!

Break in August: the 15th of August is a national holiday in Spain, it commemorates the Assumption of Mary. It fell on a Wednesday in 2018, so Jorge and Eva spent a Wednesday through Sunday break together. They apparently managed to evade their parents too.

Casa en la sierra (“mountain house”): Madrid is both a city and a region (or an autonomous community, if you want to read more about this). Lucas’ family originally hails from the northern part of the region of Madrid, which lies atop a mountain range. As Jorge says, you can simply take a regular bus up there, and it’s not too expensive to visit. I actually figured that, if there was a cabin episode, it’d take place at “la sierra,” but I thought they’d take the train.

Se van a cagar con la que vamos a liar (“they’ll shit themselves with how hard we’re bringing it”): the latter half isn’t quite a word-for-word translation, but the meaning is the same. I just wanted to point out another instance of poop-related emphasis.

Waterparties (“wet blanket”): I pointed that out when the clip came out, but Cris is pulling a specific type of English language-related humor that we’re pretty fond of here. She has literally translated the word aguafiestas as “waterparties.” An aguafiestas is a wet blanket. I thought of subbing it as “manta mojada,” but figured it’d be too much. See more examples of this type of humor here. As English becomes more ubiquitous everywhere, people are given to use English even when there’s a perfectly serviceable Spanish word. Which results in this sort of humor: translating even Spanish words that make no sense in English.

A tomar por culo (“fuck me in the ass”): I mean, I could’ve translated it as “fuck me,” but Cris literally says “in the ass,” so. Basically, when something goes to shit in Spain, you can say it’s gone to take it up the ass. Or you can say it’s gone to shit, too. We’re very anal-oriented as a country.

Coño (“fuck”): “Coño” literally means cunt, but it is used here as “fuck.” I don’t think it comes up through the season, but I will translate it as cunt if it’s ever used to mean a literal pussy.

Que se os dé bien (“hope you two do great at it”): this is pretty much the literal translation. It’s awkward because Cris herself has no idea what to say. It’s not… really a thing we tell someone who announces she’s going to lose her virginity, to say the least lol.

CLIP 3: The sex talk

Taurus: Viri is not actually a Taurus. She shares her birthday with Paris Jackson, 3rd of April, which makes her an Aries. We’re all very confused about this.

Pero ni de coña (“sike”): The literal translation would be, “but, not even as a joke,” which is too long and awkward. I think “sike” is cuter and has the same effect.

Tampoco te pases (“don’t take advantage either”): I haven’t checked other subs, but I think this could be translated either as “don’t go that far (as to pinch me)” or “don’t take advantage (of the situation by pinching me).” Hope the meaning was clear with my choice!

Macho (“Dang”): Macho just means… macho. As per Collins, “You use macho to describe men who are very conscious and proud of their masculinity.” But we often use it as an interjection, like dang, that wouldn’t be considered a swear word. Amira is really good at using these.

Not a culture and translation note, but I’m curious. How many people walked away from this clip with the impression that Nora has admitted to having had sex? I’ve heard opinions for yes and no.

The Coach x Selena Gomez collection includes many types of apparel and accessories, but not shoes. So I can’t say I’ve seen those shoes, Viri. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ For what it’s worth, unlike other Vildes, I think Viri was actually fucking with them. She couldn’t think of anything that got her horny, so she joked that the Selena Gomez line is just that hot.

CLIP 4: Mr. Coitus Interruptus

No jodas (“Stop that”): Jorge actually says, “don’t fuck around,” as in, don’t wake me up by playing music.

You don’t want to know how many times I had to listen to the song before I could make out that what Lucas was saying before he opens the door is simply, “¿Hola?” Also, I’m pretty sure Lucas’ string of sorries is an homage to Tarjei’s delivery in the og clip. I believe at this point we’ve been made aware that Alejandro Reina likes him some Isak/Even, right?

CLIP 5: Jorge tests my patience with slang

Abrefácil mis cojones (“Easy-open my balls”): “Cojones” is actually stronger than balls. I’d translate it as bollocks, but that’s British slang, and I want to try and keep to American slang, lest this becomes a total mess of dialects.

It’s been a full season of many, many great Lucas moments, but heaven help me, I still think his sausage craving is one of his finest moments. I even requested that Movistar+ made a gif of it. I am probably the only person using it, but I can’t find it in me to care.

Lucas ha tenido movida con sus padres (“Lucas got into a fight with his parents”): Fight might be too strong. I think “ha tenido movida” is close to “had an argument,” but sometimes we make choices in the name of less characters per line, on a show where everyone wants to talk at top speed, and Jorge wants to speak strictly in slang.

Además, que no se va a cantear. Fijo que nos deja a nuestra bola. (“Besides, he’s not going to be out of line. He’s gonna give us space for sure.”) “Cantearse” means to behave in such a way that you’re calling attention to yourself, being inconvenient, generally being a pain in the ass. “Ir a nuestra bola” is to do our own thing, by ourselves. Presumably, without Lucas “canteándose.”

No tenía ni zorra (“I had no fucking clue”): “Zorra” will come up later in the season again and again and again, and it’d usually mean “slut” or “whore” at its strongest, but again, it’s used here for emphasis. This sentence can also be “no tenía ni zorra idea,” but as Lucas does here, you can omit the word “idea” (idea/clue) and it carries the same meaning.

Nada, tío, ya sabeh, hay un amigo en mí (“No biggie, dude, you know, you’ve got a friend in me”): Not that you’d be able to tell, but Hugo is pulling a Cuban accent when he says this. I believe I’ve mentioned in one of these posts that Spaniards just love talking in other accents and doing voices to be silly.

Fuet: This is fuet.

CLIP 6: The boy squad channels your uncles at Thanksgiving

Eva is snacking on sunflower seeds. Sunflower seeds are the basic snack to munch on if you’re a Spaniard. You can buy them pre-shelled and coated in different flavors, but by far, the most popular option is to buy them shelled with a coating of salt. You pop them open with your teeth and taste the salt, then eat the seed. Sunflower oil is also the second most popular cooking oil in Spain, right after olive oil, of course.

One of the books in the shelves is a collection of Grimm Brothers tales! There’s no significance to this, I just think it’s cute.

Conversaciones de cuñados sobre fútbol (“Rednecks chatting about football”): I already posted about this when the clip dropped, but I have since learned that the “cuñado” phenomenon most closely resembles Thanksgiving Uncles, as seen in this Onion article: Nation's Uncles Enter Last Stage Of Prep For Thursday's Thanksgiving Debates. Again, football is soccer to you Yanks, but I’ll be damned if I ever refer to it as soccer, even if these subs use American slang.

Te vas a cagar, chaval (“You’re gonna shit yourself, boy”): Lucas gets in on the shitting action! Heartwarming.

CLIP 7: Jorge gets petty

Jorgito: Much like Jorge called Eva “Evita” a few episodes ago, Lucas now calls Jorge “Jorgito.” #JustBroThings

Te voy a reventar (“I’m gonna kick your ass”): I decided to be charitable, but what Hugo tells Lucas is that he’s going to bust [his ass, presumably]. #JustBroThings

I tried Shazaming the song to find out which game they’re supposedly playing, but no luck. Sorry.

CLIP 8: ☹️

Again, I did my best to try and identify the bus Eva takes, because that would tell us where Lucas’ family is from, but the shots are filmed and edited in such a way that you can never get any identifying information. Cockblocked (like Eva and Jorge).

EXTRA CLIP: Amira’s time to shine!

There’s no real reason for Amira to be sitting away from Cris and Nora, by the way, other than they need her to for the random dude to approach her. Just in case you thought there was a CULTURAL reason behind it.

La oreja está muy rica (“The pig’s ear is really tasty”): The server doesn’t actually specify it’s pig’s ear, but that is definitely what he’s talking about. See Wikipedia for more details.

Romeo y Julieto (“Romeo and Juliet”): I kept it as Romeo and Juliet, but Amira very clearly says JulietO, as in, the dude version of Juliet. She’s being sarcastic about she and the Zaorejas random being a love match, and I don’t think there’s any, let’s say, HOMOPHOBIC undertones to the sarcasm, so I didn’t try to go for a dude name, but your mileage may vary here.

Es que es un canteo (“it’s over the top”): “Canteo” comes up again! In this instance, it would mean behaving (wearing a hijab) in such a way that you’re calling attention to yourself.

Pones a huevo que te pregunten cosas (“You’re inviting questions”): I couldn’t come up with a slangy equivalent, but Cris means that Amira is setting herself up to be asked questions. Hope the shorter sentence I picked conveys Cris’ meaning all the same.

Love that the Zaorejas random is credited literally as Chico Zaorejas (Zaorejas boy).

Social media:

Just a note, since it comes up in a previous episode, but I’m doing these out of order. It seems that everyone calls the English teacher “Johnny” (written as Yoni), so as to make the pun “yo ni me ducho, yo ni me peino” (I don’t shower, I don’t comb my hair). I picked Aidan because I thought it would read as “I don’t,” i.e. I don’t shower, I don’t comb my hair, etc.

#culture and translation #skam españa #skam spain #skamesp #skames

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robustcornhusk · 6 years

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education? hobby? talent?

anxiety? anger? despair?

i don’t know what i’m feeling

history:

the cohuman, i guess two months ago, signed up to be a co-lead for one of the spaces at an event taking place this friday. this phrasing makes it ambiguous what it is: in charge of decor for half of the space at a thing which is a party in all but name. about, i dunno, 400 people can be expected to show up (previous things by/for same group have had 350-700, though one time 1200). reimbursed, but otherwise uncompensated except for warm fuzzy feelings. by decor, i guess i mean “given the theme of the event, come up with theme for this specific room; come up with some cool lighting art, delegate some other art to people, delegate arranging fluff (pillows blankets etc) to someone, ...”.

along with cohuman, a person who... i am going to call a friend for convenience, but the relation i have with this person is Difficult... also volunteered to be co-lead.

difficulties: schrodinger’s asshole; they make mean comments and then claim it was only affectionate joking if you say you’re uncomfortable with it. impulsive, easily distracted. extremely sexual, which i will say is fine in the abstract, but i have repeatedly asked this person to please stop telling me about their hookups and who they’re attracted to and please don’t hit on service workers at least in front of me, which has been ignored repeatedly; i’ve had to leave the room (in my own home) because they won’t drop the topic; they have previously indicated interest in me as an ersatz woman, which, no. they tell me (who they understand to be a man, though that’s not strictly accurate) and my partner (a man) that “men should be banned” and “men are garbage”, and while i understand why they might feel this way, also like... don’t tell your friends that they are categorically bad? they go on about how a lot of my food is bad and also how they don’t need to eat, like us, ...

they have positive qualities, i guess. i can’t remember them right now. if it were up to me i would see this person maybe every month or so, but not much more frequently than that. they are less rude to my partner and much less rude to my housemate, and i tend to react stonily to people who are upsetting me (as to buy time to figure out how i feel about this), so it’s probably not obvious that i am getting disproportionately shit on.

(having said that, i think cohuman is aware that i am Tired of this person, because i have said as much, but i’m not sure if they are aware to degree or why because i did not share that)

anyway. cohuman and friend came up with art centerpiece for the space: suspended fabric “trees” which glowed.

this required someone to sew, which i offered to do, with conditions: i would only be expected to do the sewing itself; i would not be responsible for or expected to do any of the prep or post work (cutting fabric, pinning pieces, snipping loose threads; but also sourcing material, dealing with the mechanical and electronic parts, etc), because i knew a lot of that would be really frustrating for me and could be done by anyone, though i would be happy to show how the fabric-related parts would need to be done, and i was happy to help with generating the plan for sewing. i also said i would like to be able to do it all at once, as to not have to get the machine set up and put away every day for two weeks, so we planned to spend a weekend as a group on the project.

(i expected that my portion, just the sewing, would take about 10 hours, which in the end turned out to be about accurate. fortunately it was entirely straight lines, so pretty easy, just a so much of it. )

said weekend was about 10 days ago. the plan: cohuman, friend, and housemate get started around 10am, cutting and prepping fabric; as soon as pinned pieces started to appear, i would begin sewing. we’d hopefully get it all done on saturday, or at least most of it.

my memory of the few days is a little mixed up, but.

at 10, friend decided to go to brunch, and didn’t make it til 12; we couldn’t start until they arrived. they wanted to be in charge of cutting fabric, leaving cohuman (with a hand injury) to do pinning. cutting fabric, which i expected would take an hour or two ended up not being done until 6, for mysterious reasons (which included friend repeatedly stopping what they were working on to talk to people in other rooms, etc).

at 7ish, i think, cohuman and i were hungry, so after i’d reached a good stopping point in sewing, we decided to stop working for a bit to go get takeout for dinner. friend claimed to not be hungry. cohuman and i went out, got dinner, came back, ate, got back to working. friend said they hadn’t been hungry but our food smelled good and now they wanted to eat, and spent an hour+ dithering about whether or not they needed to eat and where should they go and nothing’s good in our neighborhood maybe they should just go home and come back tomorrow.

around 8:30, they commandeered my sewing machine (to use as a hole-punching machine) to test a light thing, preventing me from getting any of the remaining 2/3rds sewing done; i got the machine back at 9:30ish. at 10:30, our downstairs neighbors asked if we knew what was making the ceiling shake, so i had to stop sewing for the night.

the next morning, i got up and picked up where i left off, finishing half of the total sewing around noon (by seam count) before friend arrived, having gone to brunch again.

i asked housemate for help, and they said sure! they just need to get some music, and they want to go out for coffee, but they’ll help in 15 minutes! (two hours later they come back from coffee...)

by evening, i had gotten to the point where i needed people to trim some seams (french seams) & turn some tubes inside-out before i could continue sewing. cohuman had been doing an okay job, and had been turning/checking after they trimmed, but friend kept trimming very close and didn’t bother turning each tube after trimming. “is this right?” “it’s okay, but please try to not trim so close in the future. i’m worried about this fraying or ripping.” “oops! i did it too close again!” “please stop trimming, if you’re going to keep doing it this close. it will rip.” “it’s fine!” ... i eventually got them to stop, after every single one that this person trimmed ripped. they were upset: “am i just making more work for everyone else?”. i didn’t answer.

instead of going home or working on other parts of the project, they played video games in our living room for some time; around 11, I said “I need to go to sleep now, and so you have to leave,” and even so they didn’t leave until 11:45.

because we only got half done during the week, we made them agree to come back during the week: but they can’t do this night, and they won’t do that night, and y’all can handle it, right? but they agreed to come over at least monday at 7pm.

on monday we had an exterminator come; i spent the rest of the day repairing the things friend had ripped. friend showed up unannounced at 5, before i was ready to begin working; i hadn’t made or eaten dinner yet, and cohuman wasn’t home from work... at 5:30 when cohuman and i were preparing to make dinner, we found an ant swarm in the kitchen, delaying us 30 or so. friend said it was ridiculous that we were so bothered by ants, and then gave us shit for running late.

i stopped sewing at 9, on account of not pissing off the neighbors; friend again did not leave until after 11.

i managed to get the rest of the sewing done during the week, except for a few very long, large things i needed help with; moreover, the project wasn’t done, much less the entire planning for the space, so friend reluctantly agreed to come over this (last) weekend... “But I can’t do sunday, I have a date. And I can’t do Tuesday, because we have D&D. and ...”

cohuman did about five hours of work on friday night, exacerbating a hand injury, which they were understandably not happy about.

on saturday, friend was asked for eta at 10am; at 11 they woke up and said “i’ll be over once i’ve eaten!”; they arrived after 3. when asked to do (some task that cohuman physically can’t do because of hand injury), they said “my back hurts, so I don’t want to”.

eventually we got them to work on something they said they would do all week, planning out how something was going to be rigged; cohuman was blocked on cutting some material until that was solved. by the end of the night, they claimed it was solved.

sunday morning, cohuman cut all the material that needed to be cut. ... friend hadn’t accounted for, uh, anything, and it was all too short, we didn’t have 135 of some obscure part that no one has, ... the end result was cohuman soldering an excessively large number of things monday night for five hours, fortunately with sudden help from a very competent person we’d never met before.

it’s wednesday now; the project is still not done; it needs to be done by friday morning. i have put probably twice as much time into it as one of the supposed co-leads; my housemate has put as much time or more into it as said co-lead; the other co-lead had done three times as much.

... did i mention that, last time cohuman and friend worked together on an Art, the friend helpfully never mentioned that cohuman had done at least half of the work on it when telling people about it? because, you know, they had to impress girls.

and did i mention that we had to talk friend out of fucking off to spain for half a week this week with their girlfriend?

and did i mention that friend is planning to arrive at setup five hours later than us, maybe three hours before the event starts, because they’re unwilling to reschedule a recurring (music lesson), despite having had literally two months to move it.

... this has mostly been about how i’m upset by friend, but to a lesser extent i’m upset at other people too.

housemate 1, for saying they’ll help in five minutes! and then wandering off for two hours. this is a recurring problem. i’m not very upset at this for this project in particular because they have been otherwise and up-front accurate with “how much help they are willing to give”, but i am ??? in the general case.

housemate 2, for saying they’ll happily do a bunch of soldering for cohuman; then fucking off with no warning the day said soldering needed to occur to go ... camping. on getting back, they couldn’t do the soldering on account of being (hungover).

housemate 1′s datefriend, who keeps offering to help with useless offers. “I can go to [place that might have a thing we might need tonight] next week!” also kept trying to helpfully shout commentary down the hall while we were working, .. but honestly this is just a “[] eating crackers” situation at this point. i have tried for the last year and a half to like this person, and when they’re not stressed it’s okay, and when they are stressed, they try to be. ... in a way that disagrees with me, so i get stony, so they try harder to be that way, so i get stonier ... i’ve also heard way more about their sex life than i want to. i’ve heard more about their life in general than i want to have. they keep mistaking my offers of hospitality with offers of intimacy.

cohuman, for signing up for this fucking project to begin with and being a butt when it’s frustrating, which is often.

me, because i kept seeing myself get resource-depleted during this and then would watch myself being a jerk to people around me: short, snippy, blunt, rude. i underestimated how long prepwork would take. i didn’t insist on getting parts of it done earlier.

thoughts:

i don’t want to go to the event on friday. the reasons i have gone in the past are “it’s fun to be with my friends at these; i feel closer to them afterwards” and “it’s fun to do _ at these; i have a good time, despite being hungover afterwards”.

reason 1: i do not want to be around most of these people this time. i am also not interested in telling them why beforehand. i do not want them to have a bad time at event, so i don’t want to tell them then, either.

reason 2: people say “[mind]set and setting” a lot, and neither of this is going to be right this time. i feel awful this week. the setting is going to be more stressful than usual, because of the art; if it looks worse than i’d hoped, i think i will be disappointed.

reason 2b: because we’re not done, house is a lot dirtier than usual; i have a family member in town who i probably am obligated to see; i haven’t been exercising this week and i feel like shit. i think the hangover would be worse than usual.

i feel weird:

the last five or so days, every time i stand up, the rooms darkens. my neck is sore. the ringing in my ears is louder. sometimes the room gets very loud and sometimes it’s very quiet.

i’m cold, and even under blankets and sweatshirts, i stay cold. my hands don’t want to move right.

people breathe funny for a minute, and i find myself shaking for half an hour after, on alert.

i didn’t go climbing monday like i usually did because one of my hands hurt, and i wanted to be sure i haven’t pulled a muscle, but when it felt better i didn’t go yesterday and i haven’t gone today.

i’ve eaten maybe two real meals since friday night. i��ve cooked once (last night) and i had to prevent myself from giving up halfway through. it was tiring just eating it. i feel sick, like i want to vomit.

i spent a lot of the past week playing games whenever i wasn’t working on the project to distract myself from everything going on; i’ve gotten to the point where i’m sorta bored with it but whenever i stop, i remember how we aren’t done yet.

it’s like i’m about to cry, but i can’t, and it gives me a headache anyway.

it feels like i’m lying when i talk to people

i don’t know what to do, short term:

the problem with just not going is that i have to tell cohuman that i don’t want to go. i think i would be okay just going for the setup, but i don’t want people to try to convince me to stay, and i think they would.

the thing is, i might actually have a good time, during, if i went! ... but i think that one, there’s a good chance i really, really won’t. two, even if friday-night-me has a good time, i think me-from-next-week has a high chance of being distressed by whatever friday-night-me did if i’m near my friends (what was said by or to friday-night-me), and i’m always stressed by people i don’t know so well. going but not doing anything has a near 100% chance of being “moderately bad” (environment would be overwhelming in that state, too dark and too loud and too bright and too crowded; i’d for certain be too tired too early).

but the problem is that cohuman needs to be there, for setup and for strike, because it’s their project. and cohuman strongly prefers that i’m there. having said that, they have gone to any of these without me, so it might be okay... but on the other hand, i’m afraid that they’ll have a bad time because of the reasons i’m not there.

and on the other hand, i’m pretty sure i’m going to have a bad time. and if it’s bad for me, it’ll be unpleasant for them, so to minimize the number of people having bad times, i have to tell them...

i don’t know what to do, long-term:

i don’t like the people i’m living with, and i think they’re good housemates. and i’m afraid that if i lived alone or with just cohuman, i’d lose it from loneliness. i don’t know how to live, long-term.

i can try to push through it but i feel like... i spend a large proportion of the time like this, like a month out of every three. and it’s getting to ... i’m mad at how someone talks and literally got mad because someone was drinking water out of a mug instead of a cup.

i try to meet new people and i can’t stand them, either.

... i keep wondering if we should live in pittsburgh again but that doesn’t work for a hundred reasons (where would cohuman work? would i be able to? what if it sucks to find a doctor again? what if it sucks to find a therapist there like how it did before? what if the snow and cold coops me up for four months of the year?). all i have there, really, are friends i’m not tired of yet and who aren’t tired of me. i don’t really like pittsburgh...

i can’t just myself fuck off; aside from leaving everyone i live with in a bind, i am unable to live independently. this week is bad, but it beats every week being like this one, which is how it used to be.

cohuman and i always talk about how living with all our friends is great and we want to do it for a long time, but ...

the psychiatrist was surprised when i said that i hated my life and yet i knew i had utility to the people around me, when most? people who hate their lives and ... generally think they’re a burden.

they’d be in both a short term (oh fuck, housing) bind and also with regards to ... who’s going to cook? who’s going to clean? who takes care of the cat?

it’s at least clearer, now, for the short term.

#king midas has the ears of an ass

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mitchbeck · 4 years

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CANTLON'S CORNER: ANDERSSON BOLTS WOLF PACK

BY: Gerry Cantlon, Howlings HARTFORD, CT - Saturday was the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year, and ironically the potential day that one of the shortest Hartford Wolf Pack careers comes to an apparent end. The New York Post reported that forward, Lias Andersson had requested a trade from the New York Rangers. They then confirmed that he is no longer part of the organization. Andersson has hardly posted Hall-of-Fame numbers either at the NHL or AHL levels. Since being sent down to Hartford on November 17th, Andersson has played just 13 games and missed one due to injury. In that span he amassed just four goals and a total of five points. Three of those points came in a single game on December 7th against the Binghamton Devils. That leaves just two points over 12 games and he went scoreless in his last six. Andersson played 74 games in Hartford totaling 15 goals, 24 assists (39 points) over parts of three seasons. While with the Rangers, he played in just 66 games contributing a mere three goals and nine points. His last game with the Rangers was against Florida where he played 3:43 in the game. His career best time on ice is 16:09 In the past two years, he has amassed just four multiple point games in Hartford. Prior to the Binghamton game the last one was against Providence last season when he was recalled where he managed just six points in 42 games with the Rangers. A natural center Andersson played wing at times, but since he was reassigned to Hartford he has been strictly at center. Where he will go to play is a big issue if indeed he wants a trade and won’t return. Andersson could play in the Swedish Hockey League (SHL) back home or in Russia with the KHL (Kontinental Hockey League), but only if the Rangers loan him to a prospective team. Presently, he is under a current NHL contract with one year left on his Entry Level Contract (ELC) and a European exit clause option according to a knowledgeable NHL source. With all that said, this could be just a timeout for Andersson or it will cause the Rangers to make him sit in purgatory while they find a trading partner. From a variety of sources it's possible to piece together a preliminary sketch of the last few days. Andersson had a bad last game in Charlotte where he was a minus-3 with just one shot on goal. It was a game in which the entire team stunk. He flew back with the team on Thursday and between then and Friday morning his decision was made. Andersson’s agent called the Rangers and informed them of the trade request on Friday morning. Pack head coach Kris Knoblauch was informed prior to practice with the team that he had left. Knoblauch was very cautious in his answer not stating the 20-year-old was under a team suspension, but there is no doubt he is. “Technically, I don’t know what his status is. The Rangers will make an announcement in the next few days. He isn’t here and he has asked for a trade. He contacted the organization and I have reached out to him. He texted me back. We wished each other well in the future. Whatever that is. He is a good hockey player and sometimes when you have a guy here who doesn’t want to be here, he can have a bad attitude, but that wasn’t the case with him at all,” Knoblauch said. He didn't know Andersson was feeling this way. “It was a complete surprise. He was a good team player. He was obviously frustrated with his lack of points, but since he came back he did what was asked of him." Andersson was not a locker room hazard, but a solid teammate, but after three seasons, he's clearly feeling the pressure of not living up to being the seventh overall pick in the draft. This could just be a young person's immature and irrational reaction to a tough stretch. There's precedence of doing impetuous things including after losing in the Gold Medal game of the WJC two years ago, of taking his silver medal and tossing it into the crowd. It earned him and two other players IIHF suspensions. Add to the questionable behavior his leaving with just one game left before the Christmas break that includes a roster freeze, except for emergency situations, so he won't be going anywhere until afterward. Rangers GM, Jeff Gorton, will have little to no leverage in trying to move a disgruntled player who sports considerably less than glowing numbers. This move was ill-advised. Regardless of how it was initiated, it says a lot to his Wolf Pack teammates and to the Rangers organization. The Wolf Pack have been battling for first place and have seen a series of moves over the past ten days are not unrelated. First, veteran Ville Meskanen's sudden departure following the unexpected return of Vitali Kravtsov, who will get significant quality minutes that will cut into others. Former second-round pick, Ryan Gropp, finally reported to the team's ECHL affiliate, the Maine Mariners, after initially refusing to report. He was then recalled to Hartford. Now comes Andersson’s surprising exit. Hopefully it will not alter the chemistry that has been built as the team heads to the midway point of the season. Team President, John Davidson and Gorton will need to sit down and ponder what to do with this situation. Read the full article

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def-initely-soul · 7 years

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What A Small World Part 1

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

A/N: heeeey everyone! I know some of you are going to kill me for not posting the next part of Blood Relations buuuut… this is a birthday gift to my homegirl @chessireneko . It was originally gonna be a one shot, buuuut…. I got caught up to the story a little to much so… I guess this is my next series!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE AND I WISH YOU ALL HAPPINESS AND LOVE (insert Mark Tuan here) 💓💓💓

Pictures in the moodboard aren’t mine, taken out of Pinterest.

Words: 5639

Pairing: Mark/Reader

Warnings: mature themes, mentions of alcohol/drugs, implication of attempted rape (okay, I know this seems bad but it’s your standard University AU)

In your high school days, if someone told you, you would meet your childhood friend again in college, you would have been ecstatic.

But now… Now it is slightly different.

Mark Tuan turned out to be your worst nightmare.

When you first arrived at your college dorms, you felt overwhelmed.

Being the first time you were away from your home for so long terrified you, but also brought a tingling sense of excitement. The thought of the unknown and experiences yet to be lived managed to overlap the longing you began to feel for your home the moment it was out of reach. You had spent all your life there, in the outskirts of your little town. It was there where you had your first friend, where you had gone to school, where you had shared your first kiss, where you learned that kissing wasn’t the only thing you could do with another person. You had experienced joys and heartbreaks, success and fails and now that you are more than half the country away, you missed it all. Even the bad stuff.

But these nostalgic thoughts came to an end when you attended your first day of classes.

Having a dorm room entirely to yourself would be considered by most a blessing, but the first days of your stay here, it only managed to make you feel more lonely. You were used to living in a boisterous environment, as your parents were two of the loudest people you knew, so when you were met with the solitude of your empty room, it rested uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach, resulting in a small case of homesickness. So when in your first day of classes you reunited with an old high school friend, you were beyond excited.

You remember Nora clearly through your high school years; besides she was one of the most popular girls in school. Always knew how to dress and act, with politeness and kindness towards everyone and not just her close friends, as people of her ‘status’ often seemed to do.

In school you never were really close, only sharing the typical ‘hi-s’ and ‘goodbye-s’, at the start and end of school, respectively. You were from different statuses, so a friendship between the two of you was as normal as the sun coming out from the west. It was nothing personal, just the way things worked in high school.

But in college, where such tactics and customs were nothing but childhood memories to most, a friendship bloomed between the two of you. At first, it was the need for something familiar inside a yet unknown life, for both of you and seeing a known face was like a lifeline. But as you both began to feel more comfortable in each other’s presence, you both realized you had more in common than what you had believed in high school.

Both of you had a taste for bad horror movies and nights in. The sci-fi genre was your ‘go-to’ as long as it concerned books and you came to realize that 90’s pop was the guilty pleasure of you both. It occurred to you this was the first time you had clicked with another person, this well. You had never felt this close to anyone before, not even your high school friends who lost contact the moment your roads parted. Maybe your parents, or a childhood friend you can barely remember.

And it wasn’t only because of your shared interests. You both understood one another in things no one did before. It was like you found your platonic soulmate.

But even platonic soulmates have their differences. One specific difference that came in the form of a party on a late Friday night.

“Come oooon, Y/N! It’s just a party!” Nora whines in front of your closet, as she goes through your clothes, brushing aside anything she deems unsuitable for a party. And that makes up more than half your wardrobe.

“It’s never just a party. I can assure you it will result in drugs, weed, regrettable drunk sex and eventually the police shutting it down. Besides Gamma Omicron Tau is the organizer…” you murmur bitterly from your bed, where you sit with your laptop in your lap, ready for binge-watching the latest episodes of your favorite show.

The Gamma Omicron Tau is the college equivalent of your typical high school jocks. Only with more time, energy, money and sex drive, with not one brain in sight to compensate for their lack of morals.

Needless to say, you don’t like them.

Nora turns to look at you, incredulously. “That’s what a party is!” she announces, before returning once again to your clothes. “Come on, I promise you’ll have fun. That’s what college is supposed to be for!” she exclaims dramatically.

“I thought it was for achieving higher education and academic success…” you reply, uninterested as you click the first episode.

“Well, yeah, that too” Nora turns to look at you and as soon as she sees the opening of the episode, she rushes to you and lowers the laptop’s screen so it closes with a click. “You are coming to the party. I won’t take no for an answer!” she announces, her eyes serious on you, as she places the laptop on the bed away from you, and she drags you to your closet.

“I’ll only ruin your fun. Besides I have nothing to wear!” you screech in a last attempt to make her leave you be, but you realize your mistake as soon as Nora pulls that dress out of your mess of clothes.

She turns to look at you with arched eyebrows.

You scoff, nervously. “This… I would never wear this…” you stutter.

Nora tilts her head to the side unamused. “Then why did we buy it?” she inquires, her leg tapping on the floor, a motion you had come to recognize as a sign of impatience. You gulp.

“Because you insisted on me buying it after you practically forced me to wear it! Where I clearly told you it wasn’t my kind of thing” you insist, trying to get away from her grip to return to your Netflix session. Unsuccessfully that is.

“Yeah, cause as I recall you looked like a man’s wet dream” Nora shoves the dress towards you and you catch it just in time before it falls to the floor.

“Put it on. Then I’ll apply makeup to you and we’re leaving” she declares strictly as she walks to your pack of cosmetics on your desk.

“B-b-but-”

“No buts! You’re coming, you’re gonna have fun and that’s final! Aaaand you’ll probably get laid too!”

At the last words, you laugh. “Yeah, sure, whatever…” you mumble as you reluctantly start to change.

Nora raises her head to respond, but as soon as she sees you changing she’s satisfied, so she says nothing.

God, you already feel like you’re gonna regret this.

Half an hour later, finds you and Nora walking towards the Gamma Omicron Tau house. The building is booming from the loud music, with an ocean of people that keeps entering it. You see guys with perfectly styled clothes and girls with minis and high heels. You’re glad you at least wore your army boots, instead of stilettos as Nora had originally suggested. It was the only thing you didn’t back down to for today’s occasion.

Although it may be a high contrast to the little red dress you’re wearing.

You still don’t know why you agreed on buying this. It is a short, satin, burgundy dress with a deep sweetheart neckline. Its off-shoulder straps are hanging loosely on your arms, as the dress hugs you tightly in all the places you wish it wouldn’t.

When you saw yourself in the mirror, with your hair tied in a loose knot at the base of your neck, you liked it. Admittedly very much. But from the moment you stepped out of the dorms, your insecurities began to bug you. What if you show too much skin? What if the dress doesn’t look good on you, after all? What if? What if? What if?

Nora, sensing your discomfort, links your arms together. “You’re gorgeous, ok? I would be surprised if no one tries to talk to you tonight” she says, more calmly than earlier with a soft smile on her features.

“Well, then… Prepare for the surprise of your life…” you half-joke as you begin to fix your dress in order to hide more skin.

Nora huffs in annoyance. “I swear to god, one day I’m gonna slap you…” she says as you move towards the entrance.

You smile. “As if you haven’t done that already….” you joke and Nora nudges you playfully on the ribs, as you enter the house.

The party is huge.

In every corner there are people dancing, drinking, smoking, making out or all four. From the moment you enter the building the distinct smell of alcohol and smoke fills your nostrils, making you scrunch up your nose in disgust.

The only way you’re getting through this is with alcohol.

So the both of you make your way towards the kitchen where the bar is, to grab two cans of beer and then you move to a more open space where the real party is taking place. The lights are dim and the music coming from the speakers engulfs the room, as everyone dances to the beat of the current song. The smells of sweat and smoke mix together, and as time passes by, with you downing one beer after the other, it bothers you less and less.

You and Nora remain through most of the party in that room, talking and scanning the place for anyone recognizable.

It’s then when you feel as if someone’s eyes are on you. It’s that shivering feeling that travels up your spine and causes you to turn around to spot the source of that feeling.

At first, you don’t see him, due to the haziness that has taken over your senses. But as your vision starts to clear, you notice him. Notice him and wonder why haven’t you before.

You first observe the way he’s standing. He’s leaning against the wall, one leg pressed against it and his hands are crossed upon his chest in a leisured fashion but not quite. It resembles the calm before the storm. The eerie serenity before the hunter attacks his prey. Which, in this case, is you.

He’s wearing black faded jeans with rips and holes in them. Above them hangs loosely a black band T-shirt, but as it reaches his chest, it becomes tighter, and you gulp at the thought of what could be underneath the fabric.

Then your eyes move to his hair. It is a perfect shade of ashy blonde, thoroughly disheveled that calls you to feel it underneath your fingertips. His ears are adorned with multiple loop earrings, a sight that honestly turns you on more than you’d like to admit.

And when your eyes travel to his face you realize the boy is gorgeous. His lean figure expands to his face as well, with slim features and defined cheekbones. His pink lips are tight in an almost smirk as he stares at you.

And his eyes.

God, his eyes.

They are a very dark shade of brown, almost black. The intensity of his gaze keeps you still, like a deer caught in headlights, as you feel your body getting hot. His eyes travel your body, from your head to your toes and then back to your eyes, approvingly. And when your eyes meet again, he smirks darkly at you, as he bites his lower lip.

You feel your cheeks flush and a familiar feeling expanding in the pit of your stomach, as you quickly look away, embarrassed.

Nora doesn’t seem to notice, as she continues scanning the place for a potential partner for the night. And then she finds one.

“Hey, Y/N, look over there!” she almost yells in your ear, to be heard over the music as she discreetly points to a slightly buff man with white blonde hair, who just know walked into the room with two cans of beer. You look back at Nora questioningly.

She smiles a wicked grin. “We’ve been looking at each other for over half an hour…” she says, conspiringly. Your eyes widen with shock.

“Already? Well, what am I supposed to do now?” you reply. Nora nudges you.

“I’m not gonna leave you alone, stupid…” she whispers, as said man makes his way towards you. Nora, of course, isn’t gonna leave you alone. But as you look at the man approaching, you realize you’ll ruin the mood, so you make the decision to let them be, as you roll your eyes.

“You can thank me tomorrow with breakfast…” you say, as you begin to walk away, leaving her the chance to actually be alone with him. Nora stares at you wide-eyed before she opens her mouth to protest. But just as she’s about to talk she feels a hand resting on her waist, as said man stops beside her.

“Have fun!” you yell, trying to be heard over the music. You’re not sure if Nora heard, but she just throws you a grateful smile before she turns her attention to the man next to her.

As you walk away, you quickly pick up your phone to send a message.

[You, 1:34]: have fun take precautions and don’t hesitate to call me if something happens. I’m gonna take a stroll around the house so when you’re ready to go just hit me up :)

You hit send and wait for Nora’s reply.

After not even a minute later she replies.

[Norababe, 1:35]: you got it babe. Srsly thanks ;)

You smile at the screen and then you put your phone back in your purse. Since you have nothing to do now, you flirt with the idea of talking to that stranger from before. The one that seemed to eat you with his eyes.

You decide to risk your chances with him. Besides Nora said you might get laid tonight and that actually isn’t a bad idea. It’s been a long time since you had sex and well… you missed it. But as you turn around to find him, you see the spot empty and the boy is nowhere to be found.

Great, what are you gonna do for the rest of the party?

It turns out the house has a lot of unused rooms. And most of them host especially horny couples.

You stumbled upon a lot of them, trying to find an empty room, a number which you don’t want to remember.

After realizing the handsome stranger was nowhere to be found, you abandoned the large dancing area and decided to walk around the house to find anything interesting to kill time, while you wait for Nora’s departure message.

You thought you might find something worth your time inside one of those rooms, but as far as you went you only stumbled upon images you wish to forget.

As you walk down the hallway of the first floor, which is still filled with people dancing or making out, you spot a room at the corner of the corridor, where no one seems to be near it. You move towards it quickly, pushing through sweating bodies to see for yourself if this was the place you would rest quietly for the rest of the night.

You knock once, twice waiting for anyone to halt you from opening the door. When that doesn’t happen you reluctantly open the door and you sigh in relief when you see the room is devoid of people.

You step inside quickly and close the door behind you as you enter yet another bedroom. Now that you’re here, the sounds of the party become muffled and blurry and you bask at the comfortable silence that falls around you. A nice change from the deafening music downstairs.

You walk around the room slowly as you start to take in its details. It’s a little bigger than the other rooms with dark shades of red, gray and black dominating the space. On your right, there is a balcony which stares directly at the front lawn of the house, with a wooden desk right next to the glass doors and on your left, you see a big canopy bed with graphite covers. But what catches your attention is the wall in front of you, with shelves of books covering it completely. There must be over a hundred books in here you realize and you step closer to read the titles in admiration.

And as you pull an unfamiliar book to inspect it, the door from behind you opens. You don’t immediately turn to see who it is, as you are far too lost in the book on your hands.

Only when the stranger speaks, you realize you’re not alone.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” a deep voice says.

Your eyes stop upon the page as you repeat the words in your mind. Is it the man from before? You imagined his voice to be different, as you turn around to face him and-

It’s not him.

The man isn’t as handsome as the previous man was. He is handsome but not as much. He is more on the buff side and as you see his jacket with the gold letters ΓΟΤ you realize he’s on the baseball team.

You think this might be his room and you’re intruding but no such words left his lips. He said he was looking for you.

“Um, I’m sorry but I don’t think we’ve met before…” you say cautiously, gripping the book in your hands a little tighter.

The man has his hands in his jacket’s pockets as he shrugs and takes a step closer.

“You’re right, we haven’t. But that’s what I’m here for…” he says and only then do you notice the faint gleam in his eyes that informs you, you should get out of here as fast as you can.

“I’m sorry, I… I have to go…” you say quickly as you try to walk around him to reach the door. But his hand grabs your wrist and stops you from moving.

“You know, I’ve been watching you all night babydoll… That dress is a complete sin… You wouldn’t be walking around like that if you hadn’t the same thing in your mind as I do…” he whispers to you with a hideous grin, one that makes the bile in your throat rise. You feel sick as you try to push him away.

“Let go of me…” you struggle to break free from his grip, but his hands won’t move, you realize with fear.

“Oh, come on, don’t you want to get to know me? I swear you’re gonna be screaming my name by the end of the night…” his disgusting words reach your ears and his breath reeking of alcohol fills your nostrils as he moves his face to the crook of your neck.

You shiver at the implication of his words and you prepare yourself to scream as loud as you can when the door opens again.

But you don’t hear it as a blood-curdling scream breaks free from your throat, right next to the man’s ear.

The man immediately hisses in pain, as he takes a step back, covering his ears. “You little bitch-” he begins as you turn around to run for your life; only to bump into the handsome stranger from before.

This stops you immediately as you look into his eyes. The stranger looks straight at you with his intense black eyes that look more serious and dangerous by the second. Is he with the other man? Is this a plan to trap you here?

But as soon as these horrific thoughts infiltrate your mind, you see the handsome stranger step aside and look menacingly towards the Gamma Omicron Tau member.

“Oh, Mark… Hi…” says the other man, nervously as he looks anywhere besides the stranger, his name you just learned. You look over to Mark as he approaches the other man with slow threatening steps and crosses his hands over his chest. He stares down the other man who fidgets uncomfortably in his spot.

“I think Michael is looking for you, Doug…” Mark says scaringly calm, as his eyes continue to pin down the other man.

The other man looks as scared and uncomfortable as you were a few seconds ago. But that doesn’t make sense to you, since Mark is obviously less strong than the other man, and you’re sure he’s going to stand his ground-

“Ah, okay, sure…” he replies meekly, still looking at his feet.

Your eyes widen with shock as you watch the previously oh-so-confident man, dissolve into a weak mess. The man steps around Mark quickly and goes straight for the door when-

“I know you aren’t the top in your classes, but I didn’t know you had no manners as well” Mark states mockingly as he stares at the now-motionless man by the door.

“Apologize” Mark’s voice booms through the room, even though calm.

You look at him with a curious expression before returning your attention to the other man.

He looks at you and you see the humiliation in his eyes, as he struggles not to react. But aside the humiliation, you see the anger that resides in his eyes, at Mark’s order.

“I’m sorry…” he says through gritted teeth and he looks back at Mark, as you realize Mark must be some sort of authoritative figure around here.

Mark nods at him. “Okay. Now, get out” he says with a commanding tone and the man is gone within a matter of seconds.

You stare at the now closed door for a moment before you remember the other man in the room. Your eyes return to Mark. You find him staring at you with curiosity lacing his gaze, all anger from before, long gone.

And suddenly you remember how he looked at you before, all lust and yearning and it’s your turn to shift uncomfortably in your spot.

“Um… thanks for that…” you say to him as you look at your feet.

“I believe that’s mine” Mark brushes aside your comment.

You bring up your gaze to see him with a half-teasing smile, pointing at your hands. You look down confused only to see the book you had picked up before, still in your grip.

“Oh…” you say, calmly. You completely forgot you were still holding it. “Sorry…” you reply as you put it on top of the desk, but then you frown in bafflement.

“Wait… this is your room?” you ask, almost accusingly.

Mark laughs. “I’m afraid so, yes” he replies, entertained by your lack of knowledge and your accusing tone behind it.

“Oh…” you repeat, timidly, as you struggle to look anywhere else than his intruding eyes. “Well, then… I… I should go…” you manage to say as you begin to make your way towards the door.

“But you haven’t told me your name…” he accuses with a slightly teasing tone.

You turn to look at him and your feet pin you to the floor, as you’re left unable to do anything but stare back in those eyes of his, that seem to want to swallow you up.

“Wh-…. why would you need that for?” you say quietly, as you feel the weight of those few beers in your judgment. Like they haze up everything.

Mark grins.

“Nothing in particular…” he replies, but the look his eyes give you, says something different as his feet slowly bring him closer to you.

Again you do nothing but stare.

Now that he’s closer you can detect a certain familiarity on his face, but you can’t put a finger to it.

Not since there is a sinful spark in his eyes as if he’s anticipating your next move.

When you do nothing but gaze back, he blinks at you as a note of uncertainty crosses his features. And then it’s gone, as he falls to his familiar state of confidence, once more.

“Besides, it’s not fair for you to know my name, when I don’t know yours…” Mark smiles seductively before he eyes you up and down as if he’s staring at his favorite dessert.

His eyes make you cower, as you shift in your spot, wishing to at least be wearing something more… well, more covering.

You cross your hands on your chest defensively, but as soon as you see the smirk that takes over Mark’s lips, you realize you only managed to emphasize the way the dress clings to you and you drop them immediately, awkwardly glancing anywhere but him.

Mark steps even closer now as his piercing gaze travels up your body, sending pleasurable shivers up your spine. Now he stands right in front of you, your bodies almost touching, a feeling of anticipation slowly begins to wash over you.

You feel as if you’re trapped, like a moth to a flame. You don’t know if this is right or wrong, if you should be here or not.

But you know you definitely want this.

Your eyes land on his muscular torso, as you can clearly see it is as you suspected. The fabric of his shirt hugs his well-built frame tightly and you feel your mouth water.

Your gaze travels to his neck, his beautiful and long neck and your eyes slowly widen, wishing to sink your teeth into the skin of his collarbone. Then you move to his face. The smirk is now long gone, with an unreadable expression taking over his features.

And when your eyes meet his, your breath hitches in your throat.

They stare at you with a hidden desire, a fire you both long to dwell on with each other, and a passion that seems to take over you both. His eyes are intense upon your features silently waiting. Anticipating that moment which will serve as a threshold between now and what is to come.

The moment when not only your eyes meet, but your bodies as well, and upon the look in his eyes, you feel a familiar heat building between your legs.

“It’s Y/N…” you whisper, too lost in staring at his lips and wondering how they would feel capturing yours.

Mark breathes heavily, before you, his hands falling limply to his sides, as he too finds himself captivated by your soft-looking lips. The moment is intense, both of you knowing what is to come next, no one wishing to stop it.

You see the movement of his Adam’s apple as he gulps, the only sign of his nervousness and that makes you want him even more.

“Y/N…” he repeats breathlessly as if the air in the room has vanished. You see him take another step closer, no more room between the two of you, and lust floods you for the impending, feeling your underwear getting damper by the second.

Then Mark’s hand raises in the air towards you. You long for the moment his skin will touch yours, yearning to feel his fingertips on you and then-

Your phone rings.

You jump slightly in your spot at the sound, simultaneously taking a step back, as Mark’s hand swiftly falls to his side, and he crosses them on his chest again.

“S-s-sorry, I have to take this…” you mumble, in the wake of the ruined moment, as you see Nora’s number on your screen.

Mark nods uninterested which makes you look at him confused for a second before answering the phone.

“Yes?”

“Hey! It’s me! I’m at the front door, ready to go back to the dorms, where are you?!” her voice comes loud through the speaker and you flinch at the sound, earning a soft chuckle from Mark.

“I’m… I’m on the first floor but I-”

“Great! I’m coming over!” Nora yells into the phone before she hangs up. You blink in total confusion as you look at your phone.

Fucking amazing.

“Is everything okay?” Mark asks with a teasing grin. You turn to look at him, the confidence from before reappearing in his stance.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just… My friend wants to go home and I can’t let her go alone…” you say with a tone of disappointment in your voice.

Why did Nora have to go and ruin every intimate moment? You wish you could stay more, but you aren’t gonna let your friend go home alone, especially after a party like this.

“Oh, it’s okay…” Mark’s uninterested tone makes you turn your gaze at him, baffled. But he stares at you like nothing has happened.

Well, nothing did but there was something there. Something that was going to happen if your phone didn’t ring and you can’t be the only one who noticed.

But Mark doesn’t seem at all bothered or disappointed by your imminent departure. He doesn’t even make an attempt to get your number or something. Instead, he picks the book you left and places it back to its original position, as he walks around his room and plops himself on his bed.

His room. In the Gamma Omicron Tau house. Of course.

He’s a Gamma Omicron Tau member. Douchebaggery runs in their blood. And suddenly all his confidence, or more properly cockiness, doesn’t seem at all attractive.

You frown at him, a mild anger slowly infiltrates your mind. “Right…” you murmur. “Well, this has been nice….” you say, sarcastically, wishing to coax a reaction out of him.

But Mark does nothing but smile, and it’s nothing sort of stunning as it was previously, only managing to infuriate you more, before he shrugs and looks at his door, meaningfully and then back at you.

As if he’s telling you to get out.

You scoff and you open your mouth for one last sarcastic remark, when you hear Nora’s loud voice, calling you by your full name from the corridor outside.

So you let it drop with a huff of annoyance as you make your way to the door.

But before you can reach it, you feel a grip closing around your hand and you turn to see Mark looking at you wide eyed.

“Your name is Y/N L/N???” he asks in urgency, surprise written all over his face, while Nora’s calls of your name repeat in a loop.

You stare at him, weirded out, not understanding where this is coming from. Does he know you?

“Yes…” you say, cautiously, shifting nervously under his gaze, as he lets out a breath. “Why?”

“We… I know you! We used to be friends!” he says with a spark residing in his eyes.

Now you frown at him, even more perplexed. Is this a trick? “What?”

“I know you” he repeats. “We were friends once! You even had a weird nickname for me! What was it…?” he says quickly, before struggling to remember something, while you continue to feel creeped out by the whole situation.

But then Mark’s face lights up in recognition, and he turns to look at you with a wide smile on his lips, the only one that has been sincere till now, you notice.

“Markiepoo!” he exclaims loudly, his face resembling the one of a child during Christmas morning.

“Markie…” you say in confusion before it hits you. “Markiepoo?! You’re Markiepoo?!” you almost yell, unable to believe it at first.

‘Markiepoo’ was the nickname you had for your first friend. It was a boy, two years older than you, around 9 years old at that time and you had met him when his family moved in the house next to yours. You became friends when you discovered a wounded kitten in their backyard and rushed to help, only for it to scratch you and for the boy to come help you, after hearing your cries. After that, you became inseparable for the next two years, before his family disappeared. No one knew why they left or where they went and they left no means of communication for you to reach them. That’s how he disappeared from your life.

And now that is how he appears again.

The boy smiles, almost childlike as he nods. But in a second the innocence is replaced by the arrogance you became accustomed to, in this short amount of time.

“What a small world…”

As you and Nora walk side by side, reaching your dorms, you still can’t believe what happened today. Besides the fact that you nearly got assaulted, you almost had sex after a long time and the man turned out to be your long-lost childhood friend. Who happened to be one of the most notorious Gamma Omicron Tau members.

Mark fucking Tuan.

Nora explained to you on the way back, you had just walked out of the room of the most infamous playboy on campus.

No one knew how many girls he had slept with. Not even Mark himself. And he was also known for not coming back for seconds. Once done and that was it. Mark was into the one-time thing, never getting into something more serious with any commitment that threatened to take away his freedom.

And you almost slept with him.

The thought keeps on plaguing your mind, as you lay your body on your bed and Nora sleeps on the other bed of the room, the image of his lustful eyes still burned on your brain.

Fuck why did you have to listen to Nora? Netflix and popcorn would have sufficed.

But suddenly the thought doesn’t seem as appealing as it did a few hours ago.

Not with a certain pair of eyes haunting your mind.

sooooooooooo, how was it? I expect feedback on this so don’t hesitate to ask me anything! Again happy birthday to the beautiful @chessireneko , I wish you all the happiness in the world, love!! 💓💓💓

#mark #mark tuan #mark got7 #noonanet #mark scenario #mark tuan scenario #got7 scenario #got7 scenarios #university au #fuckboy!mark #got7 au #got7 university au #kpop scenarios #idol scenario #roleplay #imagine

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webmarketing15 · 7 years

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SEO Above the Funnel: Getting More Traffic When You Can’t Rank Any Higher

Posted by Tom.Capper

Normally, as SEOs, we follow a deceptively simple process. We identify how people are searching for our product, then we build or optimize pages or websites to match searcher intent, we make sure Google can find, understand, and trust it, and we wait for the waves of delicious traffic to roll in.

It’s not always that simple, though. What if we have the right pages, but just can’t rank any higher? What if we’re already satisfying all of the search volume that’s relevant to our product, but the business demands growth? What if there is no search volume relevant to our product?

What would you do, for example, if you were asked to increase organic traffic to the books section on Amazon? Or property search traffic to Rightmove (UK) or Zillow (US)? Or Netflix, before anyone knew that true online streaming services existed?

In this post, I’m going to briefly outline four simple tactics for building your relevant organic traffic by increasing the overall size of the market, rather than by trying to rank higher. And none of them require building a single link, or making any changes to your existing pages.

1. Conquer neighboring territories

This is a business tactic as well as an SEO one, but it’s worth keeping an eye out for reasonably uncompetitive verticals adjacent to your own. You have an advantage in these, because you already have a brand, a strong domain, a website to build upon, and so forth. New startups trying to make headway in these spaces will struggle to compete with a fairly low-effort execution on your part, if you judge it well.

Start by ideating related products. For example, if you’re a property listings site, you might look at:

Home insurance

Home valuation

Flat-sharing listings

Area guides

Once you’ve outlined your list (it’s probably longer than my example), you can do your basic keyword research, and take a look at the existing ranking pages. This is a bit like identifying keyword opportunities, except you’re looking at the core landing pages of a whole vertical — look at their Domain Authorities, their branded search volumes, the quality of their landing pages, the extent to which they’ve done basic SEO, and ask whether you could do better.

In the example above, you might find that home insurance is well served by fairly strong financial services or comparison sites, but flat-sharing is a weak vertical dominated by a few fairly young and poorly executed sites. That’s your opportunity.

To minimize your risk, you can start with a minimal viable version — perhaps just a single landing page or a white-labeled product. If it does well, you know it merits further investment.

You’ve already established a trusted brand, with a strong website, which users are already engaging in — if you can extend your services and provide good user experiences in other areas, you can beat other, smaller brands in those spaces.

2. Welcome the intimidated

Depending on your vertical, there may be an untapped opportunity among potential customers who don’t understand or feel comfortable with the product. For example, if you sell laptops, many potential customers may be wary of buying a laptop online or without professional advice. This might cause them not to buy, or to buy a cheaper product to reduce the riskiness.

A “best laptops under £500,” or “lightest laptops,” or “best laptops for gaming” page could encourage people to spend more, or to buy online when they might otherwise have bought in a store. Pages like this can be simple feature comparisons, or semi-editorial, but it’s important that they don’t feel like a sales or up-sell function (even though that’s what the “expert” in the store would be!).

This is even more pertinent the more potentially research intensive the purchase is. For example, Crucial have done amazingly for years with their “system scanner,” linked to prominently on their homepage, which identifies potential upgrades and gives less savvy users confidence in their purchase.

Guaranteed compatible!

If this seems like too much effort, the outdoor retailer Snow and Rock don’t have the best website in the world, but they have taken a simpler approach in linking to buying guides from certain product pages — for example, this guide on how to pick a pair of walking boots.

Can you spot scenarios where users abandon in your funnels because of fear or complexity, or where they shift their spend to offline competitors? If you can make them feel safe and supported, you might be able to change their buying behavior.

3. Whip up some fervor

At the opposite end of the spectrum, you have enthusiasts who know your vertical like the back of their hand, but could be incited to treat themselves a little more. I’ve been really impressed recently by a couple of American automotive listings sites doing this really well.

The first is Autotrader.com, who have hired well-known automotive columnist Doug Demuro from Jalopnik.com to produce videos and articles for their enthusiast news section. These articles and videos talk about the nerdy quirks of some of the most obscure and interesting used cars that have been listed on the site, and it’s not uncommon for videos on Doug’s YouTube channel — which mention Autotrader.com and feature cars you could buy on Autotrader.com — to get well into 7-figure viewing counts.

These are essentially adverts for Autotrader.com’s products, but I and hundreds of thousands of others watch them religiously. What’s more, the resulting videos and articles stand to rank for the types of queries that curious enthusiasts may search for, turning informational queries into buying intent, as well as building brand awareness. I actually think Autotrader.com could do even better at this with a little SEO 101 (editorial titles don’t need to be your actual title tag, guys), but it’s already a great tactic.

Another similar site doing this really well is Bringatrailer.com. Their approach is really simple — whenever they get a particularly rare or interesting car listed, they post it on Facebook.

These are super low-effort posts about used cars, but if you take a step back, Bring a Trailer are doing something outrageous. They’re posting links to their product pages on Facebook a dozen or more times a day, and getting 3-figure reaction counts. Some of the lesson here is “have great product pages,” or “exist in an enthusiast-rich vertical,” and I realize that this tactic isn’t strictly SEO. But it is doing a lot of things that we as SEOs try to do (build awareness, search volume, links…), and it’s doing so by successfully matching informational or entertainment intents with transactional pages.

When consumers engage with a brand emotionally or even socially, then you’re more likely to be top-of-mind when they’re ready to purchase — but they’re also more likely to purchase if they’re seeing and thinking about your products, services, and sector in their feed.

4. Tell people your vertical exists

I won’t cover this one in too much detail, because there’s already an excellent Whiteboard Friday on the subject. The key point, however, is that sometimes it’s not just that customers are intimidated by your product. They may never have heard of it. In these cases, you need to appear where they’re looking using demographic targeting, carefully researched editorial sections, or branded content.

What about you, though?

How do you go about drumming up demand in your vertical? Tell me all about it in the comments below.

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happyweddingblogs · 4 years

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