#make sure to spread some positivity in her inbox so she has something nice to come back to :‘)

[electricbluebutterflies]

Hi!! Saw that promp list you reblogged, so I'm shooting my shot for Nina + Matthias with this one: 'Learning what the other person likes sexually' thank you 😊

(Also...idk if you'd accept 1 or 2 more requests for this otp? Loved the prompts but I dont wanna spam your inbox. 😜)

I kinda love them... obvious smut ahead and also on ao3.

She’s broken him. He’s not sure how much he minds.

Look, objectively the fact that he is stuck in the frozen middle of nowhere and owes his continued survival to a witch who will not shut up and seduced him more out of boredom than anything that seems like actual desire on her part is… almost all of his worst nightmares come true. But all of that established and ignored, Nina is not the worst possible person to be stuck with. She’s beautiful, occasionally funny in a way that breaks the cultural barriers between them, knows what she wants…

They’ve stopped for the night, no closer to civilization than they were when they woke up but not going around in circles yet – and he’s left subtle markings at each fishing hut they’ve temporarily occupied, he would know – and he knows what happens next, and this time he wants to do better.

Nina is, he has learned over the past few days, a very particular combination of insatiable and bossy. When she decides she wants, and apparently physical activities are how she deals with her everything, she makes herself very clear and pins him to whatever passes for a bed wherever they are. (Or, very briefly yesterday, a wall.) And while Matthias is a willing enough participant in his own corruption, he can’t push away the feeling that the power dynamic is the truly wrong thing here. A man is not supposed to be passive, even when faced with… all of that. But as it is, he’s not sure he’ll get the chance to change it up.

And sure enough, after an improvised meal of probably-undercooked fish, she reaches out. Puts her mouth on his and starts taking kisses, and he’s so powerless and so into it and-

“Stop,” he breathes, unsure if the word even comes out.

To his great surprise, she freezes. She’s still clinging to him, but not actively doing anything more. “You okay? Did I do something-“

“You need to rest,” he murmurs, adding a little endearment in his native language. Yep, she’s definitely corrupted him. “If you want, let me give.”

Nina rolls her eyes. “Are you sure?!”

“I need to learn how to do this… properly.”

The look on her face is the most amused horror he’s ever seen and oh he almost loves her for it. “I am not passive. You do realize that, right?”

“You don’t have to be. I don’t know… tell me what to do.”

She takes a step back. “Alright. How detailed instructions do you want?”

“Tell me how to make you happy.”

Nina takes another step back and shifts her body into an open position. “Alright. Undress me. You’ve seen how all of this works…”

He has, and he steps forward and tries. The buttons of her vest are so tiny, and of course she’d done up all of them, and it takes a frighteningly long time for his fingers to get them all undone. Then her shirt, also made challenging with the laces done up too tight and oh the sight of her curves underneath it is distracting and unfair and-

Somehow, he figures out all the knots and gets it off her, gets rewarded with the sight of her soft skin and pointy breasts. Even this would be enough, and he-

“Put your mouth… somewhere.”

If nothing else, Matthias is good at following orders. Even if they are given by a… no, at this point he doesn’t think she’s a witch. Not like he was taught to believe. Definitely not normal, but far more human than he expected.

Not that it matters, he reminds himself as he leans down and tries to kiss her breasts. She’s even paler there than she is elsewhere, and her body is warm and unfair. She squirms a little, but the noises she makes are happy enough and she hasn’t yelled at him so he’s hopefully not screwing this up too badly and-

On instinct, he puts his mouth around one of her nipples and licks, and her noises turn closer to what she apparently sounds like in bliss. He’s still learning how that works, but if this helps get her there…

“Okay, I was just going to have you straight-up fuck me but nevermind you’re actually good with your mouth,” she says, yanking on his hair to pull him up and off. “This still…?”

“Yes. Keep showing me.”

“I’m not showing you, I’m trying to un-repress you,” she laughs. “Undo my skirt and get me on the bed.”

He does, and without being told he knows what she wants next. Well, this may be the strangest experience yet with her, but…

The space between her thighs is beautiful, swollen pink instead of ivory, already shiny with her warmth. He pokes around with his fingers – this, at least, she has let him do before – and makes a plan. If he’s wrong then he’s wrong and he still expects she’ll get mad at him at some point during this, but until then he-

“Head. Down. Now.” From this angle she looks magnificent, and he can see her desperation in a different way. “Keep going unless I grab your ear, no matter what else I do.”

In the recent past, in the time before she happened to him, all of this was foreign to him. It was, and remains, improper for a man of his status to know too much about the sacred beauty of women before marrying one. In that way he is ruined now, and he cannot imagine any of this being so good with some equally innocent creature. This one is so much better. This one is-

She kicks his shoulder, more out of annoyance than wanting to hurt. “I know I’m cute but get on with it.”

He complies, pressing his mouth to her outer petals. He is well aware he has too much scruff right now, and that might hurt where she’s sensitive… no, might hurt some lesser woman, won’t make this one bat an eyelash. Nina is different and Nina is herself. And she is perfect, he thinks as instinct takes over and he starts to lick. Beautiful wet nightmare.

This is a first attempt, not perfection. His desire to make her happy counts for something, he hopes as he tries different things, because that’s about the only part of this in his favor. This act she’s suggested is so new, something he’s surprised she even wants, and to have his world reduced to her womanly parts is… perfect for him, honestly. He is aware of his own body responding to it, but she hasn’t asked for that yet and maybe she won’t tonight and-

As he is learning is normal for her, Nina falls apart with a few breathless noises. Apparently this also includes clenching her thighs tight enough his head hurts and more of her sweet warmth dripping onto his tongue. For a moment he’s not sure he can breathe either, and-

The pressure lessens and instead of grabbing his ear like she said, she pulls him up to her level by the shoulders.

“Did I… please you?”

She rolls over to cover his face in wet kisses. “You need to have more faith in your abilities. That was nice.”

“What… what now?”

“Do you still want to have me?” she asks, putting her hand between his legs.

As if that’s a question. Matthias has been able to ignore his own body until now, but the slightest touch makes him squirm and he’s still fully dressed and she is unfair and-

“Always,” he breathes. Might as well admit it. “Is that alright? You already…”

“Great thing about having the parts I do is I can fall apart multiple times,” she shrugs like that should be too obvious. “I am perfectly fine with it if you are.”

“Please.”

“Good. Undress for me and… I wanna see what you do.”

It no longer feels awkward to feel her eyes on him as he sheds his layers. Her expression is appreciative, and he’s never thought too much about what his body might look like to other people but clearly the only person who matters right now is into it. Years after her, he thinks, if there is an after her, he will always remember this as he looks at his skin. Impossible perfect woman almost making him happy.

And sure enough, as he’d both hoped and feared, his prick is in full form. And to think he’d expected it would hurt her the first time she wanted him. There’s no fear of that now, but a near-inevitability he won’t last long enough to give her what she wants and-

He looks at her, spread out for him and waiting, and he knows whatever he does will be enough.

Soft beautiful his, he repeats as he maneuvers his body over her. Perfect woman, as he lines up his prick. More than he had ever dreamed of, as he covers her.

She feels perfect around him, and he rolls his hips against hers and tries to find a pattern the way she does when she covers him and he is so sure he’s doing it wrong but she keeps taking kisses anyways so maybe not. Perfect, and he feels himself tense up and no too soon he hasn’t given her everything he hasn’t-

He falls apart anyways, best intentions be damned, boneless on top of her even as their bodies separate.

“I didn’t mean to-“

“Do I look like I’m complaining?”

No, he thinks as he maneuvers his body so most of his weight is off of her, no she does not. If anything, Nina looks the happiest he’s seen her, pink and glowing and content. “You look beautiful,” he says before he talks himself out of it.

“Good.” She shakes her head, her hair flying everywhere. “Are you… was all of that okay?”

She gets under his skin like no one else ever has, and he almost loves her for it and he is undone. “I don’t know if I did it right.”

“There is no right. Not with this. There’s only… what I like may be different from what some other person likes, and each time you’re with someone new you get to figure it all out again.”

“That’s not what I-“

“You made me feel good. As long as you felt good too… that’s the important part.”

And he did, he lets himself feel as they maneuver themselves into a comfortable position for sleep. Dangerous woman. He is ruined for anyone else now, and… maybe that’s alright.

[hihellogoodbyebruh]

Is She the Reason?

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Reader

Summary: Angel has been distant lately and Y/N discovers the reason why.

Warning(s): Foul language, angst, cheating :(

Word count: 1,831

Author’s Note: I’ve been in a sad mood so this kind of came out of that. Plus of course the Destiny’s Child song of the same title was inspiration. There is kind of a prequel in my docs that may get posted in the future. We shall see. Also the text in the gif isn’t relevant, I just needed sad Angel. Questions, comments, and concerns are always welcome. My inbox is open. Enjoy!

Part 2

The MC was dealing with a very busy couple of weeks. With the Galindos now working with Rebels, the Mayans were needed to help facilitate the relationship incognito. Angel had a position now so his responsibilities were even greater and you’d seen him less and less. He used to call and text frequently, but you stopped receiving those all the time as well. Something felt wrong, but you chalked it up to him just being busy. You missed just being in his arms and seeing that annoyingly sexy smile on his face. You knew the guys were running day in and day out so you wanted to do something for them. With the help of Chucky, you organized a special dinner for everyone. You knew it could get interrupted with urgent club news, but you had to try.

With meat provided by Pops and sides prepared by you, the boys practically had a feast laid out in the middle of the clubhouse. You had come to really care about all members of the club. Your father was a retired police captain who always had a soft spot for the club. He was actually friends with Bishop and Marcus. You’d known them all your life. Of course EZ, Coco, and Gilly had a special place in your heart because of their closeness to Angel. They became like brothers to you quickly. EZ was the baby brother with the gentle soul, Coco was the wild one, and Gilly was just so damn lovable. They were the perfect balances for Angel and you were so happy he had them in his life.

As you finished making sure everything was laid out to perfection, you heard the rumblings of engines outside.

“They’re here!” Chucky excitedly declared and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yes I can hear that Chucky. Start opening some beers up, yeah?” You suggested and he nodded his head as he followed instructions. You had just made your way from behind the bar when the doors opened.

“Something smells good as fuck in here. No way Chucky cooked.” Bishop stated as he walked in with Taza and Loza behind him.

“Absolutely not. I love y’all too much for that. I figured you busy men deserved a nice home cooked meal. Dig in, Jefe.” You announced, smiling at them. Obispo was like a second father to you. Your father and him had developed a highly unlikely friendship that was still strong after all these years. They played cards every week.

“Gracias, chica.” Bishop replied, placing a paternal kiss on the side of your head before walking towards where Chucky had beers lined out.

You were greeted and hugged by the rest of the gang, with Coco and Gilly pulling up the rear.

“You cooked, Y/N? Please tell me you made mac and cheese.” Coco asked, with the closest thing to a pout on his face that you’d ever see.

“Nope. Not this time.” You lied, just to see his and Gilly’s faces dropped. It was so funny.

“I’m just playing. Of course I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence because Gilly and Coco were racing each other to get to the pan first. 

“Y’all better share!” You yelled after them, laughing and shaking your head before heading towards the door. Angel hadn’t been inside yet so you figured he was outside talking to EZ. You had on your favorite pair of jeans that hugged your ass just how he liked it and you had recently taken down your braids to let your natural hair breathe. You had a fresh twist out and you knew your tight curls bouncy and shining in the sunlight.

As you stepped outside, you spotted Angel immediately. He was leaning against the side of the opened van door speaking with a woman sitting down on the van’s floor. You tried not to let yourself be the jealous type. Angel was a very attractive man that often had girls trying to holla at him. He never seemed to entertain them. Nah, it wasn’t the fact that he was talking to a woman that bothered you. It’s the way he was talking to her.

He was completely engrossed by her. You could only see his profile but you recognized the softness in his face. It’s the same look he would give to you. The look that had you feeling like you were the center of his universe. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched the genuine smile that spread across his face as he became amused at something the woman said. You watched his hand run up her forearm and give it a gentle squeeze. There was nothing overtly sexual happening, but the intimacy of it all broke your heart.

The woman wasn’t someone familiar to you. At first. But then you spotted the unique tattoo on her neck. You had heard that tattoo described before. Adelita. The rebel leader. She was beautiful. There was a quiet power to her that almost pulled you in. All of the dots began connecting in your head. All those times he mentioned Adelita and how smart she was, how brave she was, what a badass she was. You thought it was just respect, but now you see it’s more than that. Something was going on between them.

Noise caught your attention and from your peripheral you spotted EZ coming out from his RV. You watched him assess the situation in seconds flat. You turned your head to make eye contact with him and the sad smile on his face, the apology written clear as day there, took your breath away. You felt a tear slide down your face and you turned around to quickly wipe it away.

When you turned back around, EZ had walked over and broken up the conversation. Angel finally turned around and saw you there. You could have swore you saw a quick flash of guilt cross his face before he walked over to you.

“Hey querida.” He kissed your forehead and pulled you into a hug.

Even with your confusion, heartbreak, and anger you couldn’t help completely folding into the hug. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist and you found yourself inhaling his scent. “Hi.” You breathed out as you finally pulled back from the hug.

“Hey Y/N/N, what are you doing here?” EZ asked, giving you a one armed squeeze.

“I cooked dinner for y’all. There’s plenty inside. Even for your friend here.” You mentioned, with a nod in the woman’s direction. “Except maybe the mac and cheese if someone didn’t stop Coco and Gilly from being hogs.”

“Gracias,” Adelita told you before walking inside the clubhouse with EZ. You watched as Angel watched her for a second before dragging his eyes back to you. There was a silence between y’all before you broke it.

“Is she the reason?” You quietly asked Angel.

“What?”

You scrubbed your hands over your face, trying to hold yourself together. “Is she the reason? The reason you don’t call like you used to? Come around my place like you used to? Or put it on me hard like you used to do?”

“Y/N, it’s not like that.”

“I didn’t ask what it’s like. I asked if she’s the reason that my calls didn't reach you? The deepest of my love couldn’t please you? Tell me the truth right fucking now. I deserve to know.”

There was another silence between y’all as you just stared in his eyes. You were begging, practically pleading with him to tell you that you were wrong. You were putting too much on nothing. That there was no one else… “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” Angel sighed, and you felt your heart drop into your stomach

“No..no, no, NO fucking dammit Angel!” You shoved him hard, your heartbreak manifesting as anger. “You promised me…”

He stumbled back a little at your push. “I’m so sorry Y/N. We were just working together, but something about her I-”

You cut him off with an angry hiss, “Shut up!” You didn’t want to hear all the things he found so wonderful about her. They didn’t matter. You just started pacing back and forth in front of him. You guys were lucky the yard was closed today and that EZ probably told everyone to stay inside and give y’all space. But honestly, you didn’t even care if you made a scene right now.

“You told me that before you stepped, you’d let me know. You promised you’d tell me if anything changed. You promised to be honest. You promised not to embarrass me. You promised, Angel, you promised…” Your voice broke as the full realization hit you. He’d been carrying out this affair for however long and he didn’t have the decency to tell you. You’ve been worried about him this whole time, but he’s been having himself a great time. You couldn’t stop the tears that flowed.

His eyes closed in guilt and sadness as you started to cry. He never wanted to hurt you. He just got into a situation that spiraled out of control. “Lo siento mucho cariño.” 

You just shook your head, unable to believe his words. Unable to believe what was happening. “Before you let me see you with her, you could have told me a change was gonna come. Told me something, anything...but no. How could you let it go this far if you had doubts that I wasn’t the one?”

“I didn’t have any doubts. It didn’t happen like that. I love you, but I just….I can’t explain it.”

“Love? You love me?” You repeated, your voice hoarse and breaking with the word. This wasn’t love. Love should never have so much confusion. Your mind was spinning and you needed to leave. Immediately. “I can’t do this.” You try to walk away but he grabs you.

“Y/N wait, please…” He pleaded, taking your hand and that physical contact caused you to snap.

“GET OFF ME!” You yelled at him, snatching your hand back. All thoughts of not making a scene left your mind. You were reacting from pure hurt. Your scream brought out the men from the clubhouse. “And don’t ever touch me again. We’re done, Angel. We’re so fucking over. You need to get your shit together, but I’m not gonna wait around until you do.”

And then you were rushing to your car and speeding out of the scrap yard. Angel tried his best to keep himself together even as he felt like his heart was beat out of his chest. He wanted to race after you but all he could do was watch you go. He felt someone step up beside him.

“I thought I told you not to be stupid, Angel.” Bishop told him, eyes still on the road your car sped down. He was pissed.

“Bish, I-” Angel started, but was interrupted by Bishop’s fist meeting his mouth. He fell to the ground, wiping at his busted lip.

“Just stay away from her.”

[spellbound-banshee]

Reaching - Peter Parker

hey y’all! before i put the summary or anything i just want to let you guys know that there is a major trigger warning for this fanfiction. it was super hard for me to write, but i think this could be comforting to a lot of people who are struggling especially at a time like this. it’s a self-harm trigger warning, so please do not read this fanfiction if this is going to upset or trigger you. i hope all of you are staying safe during this quarantine and my inbox is always open if you need to talk about anything at all. i love you all, take care of yourselves <3

Request: hi hi! could you possibly write something where reader self-harms and peter finds out? like she fell asleep on his couch n her sleeve rolled up, n he comforts her n promises not to leave her? if this makes you uncomfy and it’s not healthy for you to write i totally understand!! ik this is a pretty heavy subject 😅 i’ve just been not doing good lately n i need petey boy to comfort me n hold me :)) thank u so much love xx

of course i can, and although it’s very hard for me to write i think i’ll be okay. if you need to talk, never hesitate to message me.

Summary: explained above!

Warnings: fluff, trigger warning, mentions of self-harm, descriptions of cuts and trauma, very sad, angst

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

“Hey baby, sorry I’m-” Peter walked into his apartment, immediately taking his mask off as he swung in through the window. He’d been on a nightly patrol and completely forgot about your coming over, but he texted you - and you being the amazing partner you were, understood completely. When it got later and later you started to get worried, but tried to keep yourself occupied with whatever was on the TV. Now, you were sleeping soundly on his couch with the occasional flash of the TV illuminating your face.

He smiled, pressing the spider button in the middle of his suit, causing it to fall to the floor. He picked it up and walked back into his bedroom, picking up a t-shirt to throw over his head, shaking his hair out of it’s pressed-down form. Wanting to let you sleep, he washed his face in the bathroom and washed some of the dirt and grime off his body.

You stirred when he came back into the room, but didn’t wake up, being too tired to even sense him there. He noticed you were wearing one of his sweatshirts, always wondering why as it was summer, and clearly you were hot inside and outside. Nevertheless, he respected your choices when you said you didn’t want to talk about it.

He reached over the couch to find one of the blankets hanging on the back, making a quick move to drape it over you. It was a light blanket, and he figured it would be nice to have something to cuddle with if you were sleeping alone. He noticed one of your hands exposed and in a strange position, and he always liked to come home and kiss your hand whenever you came over. Smiling, he reached for your hand and brung it up to his lips, and the loose sweatshirt on your body caused the sleeve to fall down. He began to chuckle, until he turned your wrist around to start kissing the other side.

It wasn’t super clear in the light, but as his lips touched your skin, he noticed something bumpy and uneven about the texturing of the anatomy, so he pulled back to take a closer look. He gasped when he saw them, lines running down the skin of your wrist, some spread out and some closer together. He wasn’t sure how to react, his tears filled with eyes at the overwhelming amount of emotion plaguing his mind. The anger, the confusion, the sadness, it all meshed together in one big ball.

His gasp startled you awake, and once you got your bearings you squealed and pulled your wrist back, eager to cover what damage had already been done. But he saw them, and he definitely knew what was happening, and by the look on his face, he wasn’t sure how to react. He looked broken, like he was spinning out of control, but overall he just looked sad. Sad that you didn’t feel safe enough to talk to him, sad that he couldn’t see what was going on earlier rather than letting the signs slip right past him. He began to blame himself.

“Peter I-” You started, beginning to draw back on the couch, no longer feeling safe, feeling trapped and pressured even though he hadn’t said anything. “I don’t...” You didn’t know what the hell to say, you were going to tell him, you swore to yourself, but it never felt like the right time. And you definitely didn’t want him to find out like this. 

Peter slowly turned his gaze towards you, tears glossing over his honey-brown eyes, his bottom lip quivering. He felt helpless, he knew nothing in the world would be enough. Or so he thought.

“(Y/n)...” His voice cracked, tears making their way through, “why didn’t you tell me?” That probably wasn’t the best place to start from, but his mind was practically bursting with this new information, struggling on how to process. 

You paused, physically and mentally restrained from answering for a few moments. “I didn’t... I didn’t know how.” Your voice was also cracking, unsure of how to respond to such a question and how you were going to respond to all the questions he probably had to ask. He nodded his head like he understood, but his eyes were still wide and his tears began to flow now.

“(Y/n).” He reached for your hands put you pulled them back, and just that simple movement caused his little heart to break into a thousand bits. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.” He looked down at his hands, which flopped helplessly in his lap. “I’m sorry I didn’t see the signs, I’m sorry I didn’t see enough to understand what was going on.” He shook his head, running his hand through his hair and feeling lost, utterly lost. “I should’ve been there, I should’ve seen and I’m sorry I didn’t, I’m so sorry.”

“Peter, it’s not your fault.” You decided to get off the couch and kneel with him to be at his level, and now he felt bad for making this about him.

His hesitant hands reached out for you, and though you pulled them back a bit at first, you reluctantly obliged. Carefully, he ran his fingers up the sleeve of your shirt and out of habit, when he pulled your sweatshirt up you flinched and pulled back, “it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.” He reassured, even though you didn’t need to hear that to understand - he would never hurt you. He just wanted to find a way to make you feel better, he know he couldn’t heal you or take away your pain, he just wanted to be there.

He saw the lot of them. Some were whitened with age, others seemed new... fresher. His brain short circuited. He couldn’t understand how he could be so blind to the signs if there were any at all, he couldn’t see how someone that seemed so happy could be so... broken. Peter looked up at you, and you were quietly sobbing, unable to maintain eye contact with him, and he could tell. He pulled your sleeve back down, giving the arm a kiss over the sweatshirt and running his thumb over the marks as if to sooth them away.

“Hey, don’t be scared.” He attempted to keep his voice soft and steady, but inside he was breaking apart. “I’m not going to leave, I’m right here.” He let go of your arm, placing it gently back on the couch and shuffled over to your face - he placed his hands on your cheeks and ushered you to look at him. Your cheeks were sticky and you couldn’t stop the tears from forming in your eyes once you saw his. “I want to help you... but I... I don’t know how.” You could hear it in his voice, he was helpless, unprepared, and most of all scared - he could’ve lost you and he wouldn’t have seen it coming.

“Listen, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost you.” He took your hands in his, “please, I know it’s hard. But I’m here. If you need me, please just... talk to me. It’s not easy, but... I’m an asset. I can’t stand seeing you hurt especially when you do it to yourself. I love you, (Y/n). With all of my heart.” His voice broke, and he tightened his lips in a thin line, trying to hold it all together. 

“I don’t care where you are, I don’t care what time it is, I don’t care what I’m doing, I’ll come to you. Day or night, rain or shine, I’ll be there. I know I can’t make you promise me you won’t do it again, it takes time to recover and... and you’re going to have relapses.” You sobbed, and once again he tried to keep everything inside, continuing to hold your face softly. “But I want to be there, I’m in this for the long haul, honey. I’ll never leave you, no matter what. I can promise you that.”

You didn’t know what to say, how to thank him, you were so overwhelmed with confirmation and happiness that you were completely tongue-tied. “That was a lot of information I just dumped I’m um,” he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a chuckle akin to a sob, “I’m sorry.” You shook your head, bringing your hands up to his face as well and wiping away the tears that had fallen during his speech. You ran your fingers through his hair gently, and just smiled down at him, shaking your head.

“Thank you.” Was all you could say, and he could live with that for now. In the morning, he would do nothing but research to figure out ways to help you, he would stay by your side for as long as you needed him, and he would check in - something he forgot to do.

“What can I do for now?” He leaned into your touch, placing one of his hands over yours and rubbing it with his thumb. “Please, just... tell me what you need. Anything I just...” He was overwhelmed, so you just shushed him - both of you were exhausted, emotionally and physically.

“Can you just hold me for now?”

“Of course.” He nodded, wiping the rest of his tears off his face with his flannel sleeve and opening himself up to the blanket. He got behind you on the couch and pulled you into his arms, pressing your back against his chest and placing his head on your shoulder. Peter kissed the fabric of your sweatshirt gently, his hands still trembling and his heart still pounding.

“I love you, Peter. I can’t thank you enough. You’re too kind to me.” You articulated with a yawn, and he smiled down at your tired figure.

“Never.” He whispered, kissing behind your ear and nuzzling against you. “You don’t have to thank me... I love you.” You would start crying again if you had it in you, but instead you just tugged him closer to you, kissing one of the broken knuckles on his hand.

“And I love you.” You mumbled a somewhat coherent response back, already feeling yourself drift off into a slumber. Peter’s eyes were heavy from the tears, and his body felt weighted as he lied with you, unable to fall asleep with you on his mind but body begging for sleep. As he heard your soft snores, he slipped his hand in between yours and kissed your temple.

And he stayed awake to watch over you. Not because he didn’t trust you, or to watch you in a creepy way, just to make sure you wouldn’t leave and to make sure you were always comfortable, dreaming. And in the morning, the sleepless Peter Parker drifted out of your arms and into the kitchen. He prayed nothing major would happen in Queens, and prayed everything would work itself out in your favor.

Because you deserved the world.

-

sorry it took so long i had to take breaks :)

[vanaera]

Unread Messages

15. Things you said with too many miles between us (online friend!namjoon + idol!you)

Summary | In which Namjoon has beaten stress, pressure, and also time differences with you by his side but he has yet to beat to know that whom he's talking to through the screen of his phone is the same person he fawns on TV screens along with millions of other people.

Genre | Fluff + Super slight angst

Wordcount | 3, 193

Sequel : Missed Calls

     Light suddenly illuminates the pitch black room and it shines against every curve and ridge of Namjoon's face, pricking his eyes to open as he blindly reaches for his glasses.

    Once finding his bedroom clear through the lenses, he grabs his phone which alerted him of a new notification.

1 New Message!

SunnyY/N 1:32 AM

Hi! I just finished watching Predestination and holy shit how dare you rec me something so mindfucking??!!

    Namjoon types lethargically with a smile hanging on his lips.

MonJoon 1:33 AM

Glad you found the movie compelling though it's 1:33 AM here in the fucking morning, I've got AP exams later, and you woke me up just to say that?

SunnyY/N 1:33 AM

I'm sorry oh my gosh I thought you were awake! God, I didn't think of the time difference! Okay okay, go to sleep now.

MonJoon 1:33 AM

It's alright, I’m having trouble sleeping lately anyway. Where are you currently?

SunnyY/N 1:33 AM

I'm in Italy now though I haven't find anytime yet to travel around :((( Anyhow, go to sleep now! You need that sleep to defeat those tests later!

    Namjoon raises his brow. It must be nice to travel around different parts of the world because of your parent's work. The constant jetlags may be troublesome but he'd rather have that than take on a pile of homeworks and exams he doesn't even need for his major.

MonJoon 1:34 AM

Okay, stay safe there. Good nytie night!

SunnyY/N 1:35 AM

Nyt Nyt!!! :DDD

    Around six o'clock, Namjoon wakes up to the blaring noise of his alarm clock and another notification.

SunnyY/N 6:01 AM

I hope you have a nice day and good luck on your exams! Fighting!!!! 🙆🙆🙆 ( P.S. : I computed the time difference, credits to Mr. Google and I figured you'll be awake now :)))) )

    A grin spreads on Namjoon's face as he ruffles his bed hair and heads to his bathroom. He's got enough of good luck now to tackle on anything that will get on his nerves.

    The day passes and so do his three exams with Namjoon fortunately being still alive. He feels he should ask you to wish him luck everyday because God knows how his luck hasn't worn off yet today. And just like every hard work he gets done, he thinks his reward just came with a "ding!" and a Twitter update.

Y/N Official™ 7:20 PM

Y/N models new collection of Flyday "Missantrophies"!

    Namjoon has never tapped so fast in his life only to see pure beauty before him. Y/N wore frilly dresses painted with classical paintings his art major friend, Jeongguk, studies that made her look like an artwork instead while she daintily posed around some museum in Rome he knows he'll never have a chance to go to anytime soon. The pictures were breathtaking but what made his heart almost combust was the behind the scene shoots with her barely there make-up and a bright grin on her tired form as she hugs a huge teddy bear by her side.

    Too cute, too cute, too cute, gosh Namjoon wants to know how to become that teddybear now.

    Namjoon taps on the Send Me icon and immediately taps the image with your username.

MonJoon 7:20 PM

HAVE YOU SEEN THE RECENT FLYDAY PHOTOSHOOT???!!! Y/N LITERALLY LOOKS LIKE ART

- see 10 photos

SunnyY/N 7:21 AM

Yes hoe, but look at this babe

-see 1 photo

    Namjoon opens the pic to see Y/N lazily looking at her self-camera with tired eyes and bare face that looks like the meme "I don't fucking care anymore". He laughs with his heart squeezing with affection. He's always a sucker for pictures of Y/N looking like everyday college students. But wait -

MonJoon 7:22 PM

She looks so cute!!!! Btw how did you get this pic???? I haven't seen it on her social media accounts yet. Tell me how??????

SunnyY/N 7:22 PM

I have my ways 😏😏😏 Let's just say I'm really resourceful :DDD

MonJoon 7:23 PM

Meanie

"You're chatting with your online girlfriend again?"

    Namjoon raises his head to be met with his roommate (and friend, though he wants to regret such title sometimes) Seokjin's teasing smirk accompanied by a click of the door. He just came home and the first thing he does is suggest that out-of-nowhere-conclusion he kept bringing up. "Uhh yes, online girl-space-friend, not girlfriend," he corrects before he lets his fingers fly across the screen of his phone.

MonJoon 7:30 PM

How are things going around you by the way? Just finished this hellday and I wanna say I think I passed them but I think I'm gonna jinx myself so I'd rather not.

SunnyY/N 7:31 PM

You're not gonna jinx yourself! Just think positive! I know you're smart 😎😎😎 so of course you're gonna pass!!! I'm okay though I'm deadly tired. Been through another flight and now I'm in Sweden.

MonJoon 7:32 PM

So soon?! You're in Italy just like a few hours ago and you haven't traveled around yet!!!! You're missing opportunities, hoe!!

    Namjoon thinks you're hella insane going from one country to another without even staying for a while to travel.

SunnyY/N 7:32 PM

I'm really sad too 😥😥😥 but can't blame my parents for deciding to go from one country to another. Oh I got drunk earlier and fortunately I didn't accidentally open another account in some social media platform. I've already got too many shits, don't need to let the whole world know I'm such an embarrassing person ahahahha

    Namjoon chuckles and he could hear Seokjin yell "There you go again laughing like a lovesick fool. Stop denying she's so your online girlfriend!" over the kitchen but he didn't mind that at all when he remembers the first time he knew you was through the same odd antic you do when you're drunk.

    It was two years ago around some November midnight when Aym a BaBe suddenly messaged him on Send Me with "I'm really sad, can i take up this space for a while?"

    Namjoon was used to receiving shady or nonsense flirty messages from questionable usernames, not to say he automatically deletes messages from people he have never heard of at all. But that night was an exception since it was also the first time he saw someone's pain without even looking at their face.

    Just like what you said, you then filled up the convo space with "I'm just really sad right now" and "I can't even let out my true feelings at all to the people around me," and lastly how you admired his courage for posting the only post that got over 100 notes in his entire Tumblr life defending female solo artist Y/N.

     Y/N, the apple of Namjoon's eyes and his wife-to-be in his own dreamlamd started from scratch and slowly built her career in the music industry with her navy blue guitar and songs about broken glasses and misplaced loves. Namjoon thinks she could have already taken over the world with her now inactive small Youtube account Y/N sings with her original songs about sex, love, and drugs - things usually sung by men artists and topics that were avoided by females in fear of being silenced and judged by a misogynist world.

    Though her fame only started with break up songs as she delved into TV and radio shows that prevented her from trying bold moves such as her compositions in her Youtube career, Y/N still writes and sings her heart out and Namjoon cheered for her continuous success.

    Around one year later, her upbeat breakup single Go F*ck Yourself gained worldwide popularity that made her voice be known on all ears. That's why yesterday, when news broke out about Y/N's new album No More You was about the trifecta that killed every other female artists' career in such a traditional industry, all hell broke lose over the net.

    A couple of  "You're promoting bad things with your song," "You're trying too hard,"  and unnecessarily mean "You're so ugly, try getting a plastic surgery maybe you'll be more tolerable in every viewer's eyes," Namjoon just have to type down a massive text post about such cyber harassment and downright misogyny and inhumane comments against a person who wanted to convey the reality of other people now that her voice can be heard by all over the world.

    You suddenly appeared then with a weird username in that one'o clock haze. Namjoon let you rant out your complaints on the convo space, read each message you sent without replying because not everyone needs advice, just someone who can listen to them. When Namjoon checks his inbox some day later, he found that you changed your username to SunnyY/N like every other fan who uses their idol's name on their username but there's something about yours that drove him to know you more. Maybe it's because he wouldn't associate 'sunny' to Y/N unless she's smiling so wide - he wasn't really sure. And just like that, he formed a stable communication with someone he calls "Sun" whose face he hasn't seen yet over a two year course of friendship that is still staying strong now.

MonJoon 7:35 PM

Good for you that you didn't start up another account. Why are you drunk anyway?

SunnyY/N 7:38 PM

Nothing, just sad. Not a big deal. It's 1 AM here btw, I gotta go. Nytie nyt!

    Namjoon can sense you didn't want to talk about it so he sends his good nights too before going to the table for dinner. After getting his homeworks done, he counts time differences and sets another alarm aside from his morning call.

    Around seven, you wake up with the hundredth notification on your phone but the latest one is what only mattered.

MonJoon 7:01 AM

Good morning! I hope you have a great day. Stay safe, hoe :)

 //

      In the middle of writing an essay about the fundamentals of quantum physics, Namjoon's My Only Friend ringtone makes the man jump on his seat, pen almost flying from his grasp. In his defense, Y/N's MOF is the best of her recent album, Friends & Foes, and it's made him feel so much anyway-

    Namjoon swipes the green button. "What is it, Jimin?"

    "Hey have you seen the announcement of Y/N's concert tour?" Jimin rattles, "Man, the ticket prices are up and I swear to God I have to sell at least one kidney to get the VIP seats and -"

    Jimin's rambling turns into white noise as Namjoon hesitates. He's in the middle of doing tons of essays and shit, he's gonna get distracted again with Y/N's face. He already promised himself to tone down his “stanning” a little and just - fuck it. His hands are already pounding against his keyboard, the tab he opened for his references already in the back of his mind as he clicks the news of your new concert. When it comes to Y/N, he easily pushes away his priorities and God, it's just so stupid but still -

Y/N Official™ 10:50 PM

Y/N Sun + Moon Tour ticket prices are up! Concert dates in other countries will be further announced.

    Namjoon scrolls down and sees listings of dates in California, New York, Los Angeles, yadah yadah, Italy, and Sweden - wait.

    He mumbles a "Gonna get back to you Chim, I'm busy right now" through the phone, ends the call, and goes to Send Me to tap your icon.

1 Unread Message!

    Oh right, he hasn't opened Send Me the past few days because he and Seokjin forgot to pay their net bills. Shocks, you must have been pissed off he hadn't replied you yet.

    However, he didn't expect to read something aside from your memes or your whereabouts and concern for his.

SunnyY/N 1:20 AM

Hi Joon, I'm gonna be inactive for a while but I think i can send a few somethings whenever I can. Just send me anything you want, complain about school and friends, fanboy over Y/N or whatever, I'm gonna reply to that once I can. Hope you have a wonderful day! :DDD

MonJoon 11:00 PM

Hi Sun, sorry I only read your message now. Jin and i forgot to pay bills on time again so yeah. Btw, Y/N's gonna go there in Sweden on July 5 and I hope you can come there! Send me pics if you can! Stay safe hoe and enjoy travelling around!

    Namjoon closes his phone as well as his previous tabs aside from his references and leans on his chair. When you've both started opening up to each other online, you mentioned that once a year you're gonna be hella busy with your folks to the point you barely have time for goofing around the net. It sounded weird but he didn't question you about it and typed "gotta detach yourself away from your phone somehow someday. I’m like that too when finals come hahahahha.", afraid he'll sound prying. 

    After two years of hanging around and being fond of you, he can't help but be constantly curious of what you're actually doing. You're born in the same year as him (though you're only two months older than him) and you've been travelling around the world with your parents while Namjoon's stuck in college with a Philosophy degree and hating every other subject that has nothing to do with making music. You're sick rich and you have your own studio at home (you showed him a pic) because technically you enjoy music too while he's almost dying with the constant tutoring sessions he have with other kids just so he can save up for his Mon Studio-to-be.

    He wonders how he can connect with you so well when you've never had a common ground in your lives aside from liking music and also Y/N. What it would be like if you are a normal college student like him? Are you really small like you say? What will you probably major in? You'll pass out if you had the same schedule as him, Namjoon snorts. He'll probably be that friend who'll constantly check up on you, and you'll probably smile so wide, and maybe your eyes would turn into tiny curves like crescent moons. You haven't sent him a selca yet but he thinks you'll be pretty.

    Namjoon sighs. He wants to meet you so badly.

 //

      September comes and Namjoon counted 23 small candles his friends stuck in the cake Seokjin made. His friends told him to make a wish first but he didn't really have anything that came to his mind. Yeah, maybe he wishes for everyone's health and happiness - he could do with that, and then he blows the candles along with the worries of the past year.

    When the party died down and Yoongi and the rest of the squad bid them goodbyes, Namjoon finds himself slumped against his chair, tired of cleaning all the confetti from party poppers and the piñata Hoseok brought from god knows where.

    He opens his phone and scrolls through his Twitter feed for any updates on Y/N's tour and just then a Send Me notif pops out and he smiles. He never managed to beat through coincidence to be online the same time as you do so he settled for unread messages and leaving messages for the past month as well as sending each other pictures of what you've been doing at the meantime. These kept a smile on his face but he knew right then it would never beat the grin he has now he's got to finally talk with you again.

SunnyY/N 1:01 AM

Happy Birthday, Joon! 😆😆😄

🍕🍕🍕🍟🍟🍟🍔🍔🍔🍲🍲🍲🎂🎂🎂🍰🍰🍰🍦🍦🍦🍫🍫🍫

Hope you ate a lot!

MonJoon 1:01 AM

Thanks! and yes i ate a lot! Seokjin's food is ever 👌👌👌 And oh my god, you're finally online! I miss my hoe!

SunnyY/N 1:02 AM

Yes, some things came up but i'm gonna be fine now. Hey, I'm coming back home in Korea this September and holy gosh Y/N will also hold her concert the same month here! Go come, I will be there and we can finally meet up!!! (I won't be free until after the 26th anyway and i want to meet you so bad now that we're gonna be in the same country!!!!)

    Namjoon's heart thunders. You've never suggested a meet-up before since you told him six months ago you're not yet okay showing yourself to him when it happened that you stayed in Korea and he requested to meet you. However, the small pain in his heart whenever he has to type this cannot be drowned by its overwhelmingly rapid beating.

MonJoon 1:03 AM

Sadly I can't :(

SunnyY/N:1:03 AM

Hey why? I can buy you the VIP tickets if you're feeling a little burdened with the price. I just want to have my main hoe with me

MonJoon 1:03 AM

Thanks for the offer but my finals just have to be scheduled the same day as her concert and guhhh, I don't even want you to spend so much on me. But god, you don't know how happy you made me when you finally agreed to meet up; I just wanna hug you irl!!!! I'm so excited to finally see you, This must be the best birthday present anyone has gave me, hoe!

SunnyY/N 1:04 AM

But I can't wait that long, what if I say I want to meet you now?

    What?

SunnyY/N is requesting for a video call. Accept? Decline?

    Namjoon's brows furrow; you told him before you don't want video calls and now you're doing this? It's confusing but Namjoon clicks on Accept anyway because he doesn't have it in his heart to decline your requests.

    The image of a room and a yellow-hoodied-figure fills his screen. Namjoon can see a bottle on the far corner of your room and before he can scold you for drinking your problems away, a very familiar voice fills his ears and makes him stuck frozen in his chair.

    "I've been feeling sad lately and I tried to get off my phone for the past months but I can't do that now," you sniff, "It's your birthday, I have to greet you. And I know sober me won't do that so I got drunk just to have enough liquid courage to wish you a happy birthday and that I want to meet you."

    Namjoon blinks his eyes twice, this must be a fucking dream - why is he seeing Y/N's bare face and hearing her voice live what - how could you be-

    "By the way, I wrote MOF while  thinking about you," you wipe  the tears forming on your waterline,  "I'm shit right now, but I don't care. I'm saying stuff I'll not remember so you have to remind me okay? I'm gonna end the call now. It's a stupid reason - I just wanna see you."

    Before you tap the red button Namjoon could hear you mutter, "I didn't imagine you'll be this fucking handsome God, I should have fixed myself."

    The screen goes back to the convo space with you now offline and Namjoon can't feel his heart.

    What the fuck, you're Y/N?!

A/N | Hi anon! I combined your requests into #15. Hope you like it! Sorry for the long wait! BTW, Send Me is a social media platform I made up and so is the brand Flyday!

09.07.2018 : Update! This will become another drabble series of mine so expect more dynamics and shenanigans of fan!namjoon and idol!you :D

All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. No reposts, modifications, and translations of content is allowed without direct permission.

[mylutteoheart]

Can You do a fanfic about matteo eats with the valentes and Alfredo and Miguel are joking al the time About matteo and he is very nervous

First of all, I know this has been in my inbox for over a year and I’m really sorry for that. Secondly, it’s not exactly what you requested but hopefully I can make it up by putting a lot of fluff in this. I wanted to add more but my brain didn’t work with me since it apparently only focuses on the pain I’m feeling right now.

I loved the concept of them being a couple while living in the mansion so I just wrote this. I’m happy to have finally finished this, this means I can focus on my make up exam because I really can’t fail this time.

Also the title is from a flemish song called ‘De mooiste liefde ooit’ by spring and it actually sounds a lot better in dutch. Anyway enjoy and sorry for the delay again.

Word count: 2.5k

What we’ve been through. What you have given me. Something you never forget.

find my other fics here

🌙🍓

Luna and Matteo stared at each other for a while, they were both smiling. Matteo kept looking back and forth between the ring and her eyes. He didn’t believe what was happening and really hoped he wasn’t dreaming. But there she was, with the ring he gave her in her hands and a very confident smile. 

“What do you want to tell me?” he asked again.

“I love you.” it’s the only thing she said.

Matteo’s mouth opened a little in surprise: “What?”

“I love you.” She said again while still being in the same position as before this confession.

“But you’re with Michel.” he said a bit sad while processing what just happened.

“What? No, of course not. Who told you that?” she frowned.

“I saw you two kissing.” he couldn’t hide the pain on his face. This made her laugh a little and this got Matteo confused. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry but that didn’t happen. Okay, it did happen but I didn’t want to, he kissed me and I didn’t want to.” she explained to him.

“Really?” his face lit up. She just smiled and nodded. “I love you too, Luna." 

They looked at each other with a satisfied smile, they were happy to confess their feelings to one another. Luna was tired of waiting so she slowly stepped closer to him. He watched her. Before he knew it, her hands were on his face and her lips were on his. It took him off guard so he didn’t kiss her back until later. He slowly closed his eyes to get lost in this moment. He put his hands on her waist while she caresses his cheek with one of hers. The kiss got deeper and deeper. The kiss felt desperate on both sides like they’ve been waiting for this forever and it was true. They didn’t break apart until they both needed to breathe. Even when they pulled apart, they still stayed close by letting their foreheads touch. They both had smiles from ear to ear on their face. They were truly happy at last. 

"Promise me we will never be apart again.” she said in a desperate voice.

“I promise, chica delivery.” he asked while taking her in his arms. Her head rested on his chest while his chin rested on her head. They were holding each other so tight, it seemed almost impossible to breathe. They didn’t want to let go either.

They spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and holding each other until it was time to head home for dinner. 

They walked hand in hand to the mansion. They haven’t told anyone about them yet so it sure was going to be an interesting evening. But all Matteo could think about was that he’s finally here with her again and he hasn’t felt this happy in a long time. Everyting was perfect for him. His career was going great, he had friends who support him and he’s with the girl he loves. 

Luna stopped in the front door of the house to take a deep breath to gather her courage to tell everyone what happened. Matteo noticed this and he said: “It’s going to be okay, Luna, I’m here with you.” he squeezed her in the hand and they walked in together. 

Everyone was already sitting down at the table. Including Alfredo and her parents. Before they walked into the dining room, he looked down at her and saw the panic spreading on her face. He put his arm around her shoulder to show her he’s there to support her and a bit of stress was gone. 

She got to the room before she would loose all her courage and he had no choice but to follow her, he surprisingly hid it well that he was nervous as well but he wanted her to feel comfortable so they could both tell her friends and family.

She awaited everyone’s reaction when they walked in and he having his arm around her. Everyone stared at them and had no idea what to say. Simón and Pedro were smiling, realizing that they’re a couple again. Michel had a face of jealousy on, which made Matteo smile brightly while Luna looks at him with a stressed look on her face. Alfredo had a smile too and her parents looked very surprised. 

“So does that mean you’re back together?” Simón was the first one to say something. 

“Yes, Luna is my girlfriend.” he smiled down at her while bopping her nose. Tension still shown on her face.

“I’m glad to hear you made up.” Monica finally reacted and Miguel nodded in agreement. Luna was relieved to know that her parents approve of them. Simón went to sit on another chair to let Luna and Matteo sit next to each other. 

During the entire dinner, they seemed to forget about the rest that’s sitting at the table. They were laughing and throwing jokes around. He even fed her a little because he thought it would be fun. When Luna finally realize she made some people uncomfortable, she turned around to sit straight at the table. She couldn’t stop herself from blushing and Matteo looked at her with a look full of love. He went to do the same afterwards after she gave him a warning look. 

But despite her warning, he still held her hand in his under the table so no one could see it and this made them both smile. They were like this for the rest of the dinner. 

After a while, it was time to go to bed and they haven’t seperated from each other all evening and they hated that they had no choice but to be apart now. Matteo didn’t want waste any more time, they’ve been apart for so long and they both suffered so much. 

“Have I ever told you how pretty you look in your pjs?” Matteo said as she was ready to go to her room. He still stayed in the mansion to wish her a good night. 

His compliment made her blush and Matteo was content with his accomplishment, he always loved how he made her blush, it really was the most adorable thing to him. “You look quite nice in your nightwear too.” They both smiled like idiots at each other. 

He approached her and she did the same thing. They hugged each other tight. Then, he put a hand on her cheek and carressed it, he slowly leans in and gives her a quick peck on the lips. But she didn’t want to let go, when he tried to pull apart, she pulled him closer and their kiss was a few seconds longer than he intended it to be. Then they pulled apart once again but their lips lingered as they wanted to feel each other’s touch. They hugged each other one last time and then they went to their own room.

Before she was out of sight, he turned around and said: “Don’t dream too much about me, chica delivery.” he added a wink once she turned around as well. She gave him a smile and shook her head, she went upstairs afterwards.

It was 2am and Matteo couldn’t sleep, it was just too hard knowing his girlfriend was so close to him. Even though they were on the same property, he still missed her whenever he didn’t see her or whenever he couldn’t hold her close in his arms. At least the knowledge of them being a couple again kept him warm at night but it still wasn’t enough so he decided to get a warm cup of milk in the kitchen.

What he didn’t expect was to see Luna doing the exact same thing. She was surprised to see him as well. “Couldn’t sleep either?” she asked and he just nodded. “I’ll put a cup of milk in the microwave." 

"So why can’t you sleep?” he asked her.

“I just had a bad dream.” she answered, trying to hide her eyes that are being filled with tears.

“Tell me. But only if you want to, of course.” he added to make her feel comfortable.

“Maybe I’ll tell you later.” tears started to stream down her face and it broke his heart in a thousand peaces.

He wiped her tears away with his fingers. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I’m here for you.” he took her in his arms as she started to sob. He held her as close as he could. 

When her sobs seemed to fade, she pulled away and said: “Thank you.”

“No problem, you know I’m here for you for whatever you need.” an idea came to mind. “You know, I know a way to distract you from all of this.” his lips formed a smirk.

“You do?” she frowned.

“Do you trust me?” he asked and she nodded. “Then close your eyes.” she obeyed him.

Softly, he put his hands on her cheeks and leaned in slowly. His lips touched hers and when she realized what he was doing, she started to kiss him. He kissed her back in less than a second. The kiss always got deeper until the point has come that they were making out. They got lost into each other. Forgetting their surroundings. Eventually, he lifted her up and put her on the kitchen counter to be able to kiss her better. It even got so far as using their tongues. 

Before they knew it, someone was clearing their throat behind them and they had no choice but to stop. Matteo was a bit annoyed but acknowledged it wouldn’t be a good idea to continue.

When he turned around, he saw it was Alfredo and he saw Luna blushing behind him. There was an awkward silence now and to break this awkward moment, he said: “I should get back to bed.” he gave her a wink and a smile and then took his cup with him and left the two alone.

He waited until he left to be able to talk to her before she goes back to sleep. “I guess maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.” he admitted.

“You’re unbelievable.” she commented with a smile.

“Unbelievably irrestisible, I know.” he smirked again. After a minute, he got serious again: “Will you be able to sleep?” he was really worried now.

“I don’t know but I’ll try.” she said with a sad tone.

“What if I help you go to sleep?” he asked her. She looked confused at him. He continued: “I might have an idea but I’m not sure if you’ll like it." 

"I’m open to anything.” she said, encouraging him.

“Then maybe we should go to your room to not wake up anyone.” he said casually, she panicked a little, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything your parents don’t approve of.” she agreed but she was still worried.

They went to her room together and he asked her to go back to bed. She put the covers over herself. He went to lie down next to her. He put one arm around her and he slowly started to sing Quiero Verte Sonreír to her. He did it with a soft voice and Luna was able to close her eyes. Slowly, she fell asleep. When he was about to leave, she took his hand tightly in hers so he had no way to escape. He smiled as he watched her sleep until he fell asleep himself. 

She woke up once again this night but Matteo managed to calm her down again. Finding all the sweet words to say to her and it eased her. She was able to sleep for the rest of the night.

Monica was the one to wake up Luna but her mome didn’t expect to find Matteo next to her.

They were both already awake when Monica entered but they were still in bed. All Monica did was putting on a surprised face and then she left, not knowing what else to do.

Luna and Matteo started laughing after this, it must have looked really weird to Luna’s mom.

“Chico fresa, it’s time to get up.” she said as she was already doing so.

“No, I want to stay in bed with you.” she turned around to look at him and he used his puppy eyes, knowing very well that Luna couldn’t resist this.

“We can’t, I have to get to school.” she tried to avoid his gaze. He sighed, knowing he can’t argue with that.

“At least give me a kiss before you get ready.” He knew he was being a bit clingy but he didn’t care and he knew she loved it when he was like this. She meant to give him a quick peck but he held her so she couldn’t pull away and the peck turned into a deep but brief kiss. She left her room after this, he watched her walk out.

He was dragging to go and eat breakfast because he had no idea what her family was going to stay about what they saw.

Unfortunately for him, her parents and Alfredo were sitting at the table with Luna and they seemed to have been waiting for him to come down.

“I hope you slept well last night.” Miguel began as he clearly knew what just went down in Luna’s room.

“I did, thank you.” he tried to stay polite but he got nervous nevertheless.

“I also heard you couldn’t let go of Luna.” Monica said. His cheeks turned red and Luna’s did too.

“Sir…” he was playing with his fingers due to being really nervous. “I didn’t mean to…”

Alfredo interrupted: “It’s okay, we get it.” the man gave him a smile and he let out a breath in relief.

“I should go to school.” Luna finally said and she stood up.

Matteo did as well: “I’ll accompany you to the door.” she gave him a smile and intertwined her fingers with his. They walked to the front door together.

They paused when they got there and turned to look at each other. “Have a nice day, chica delivery and don’t get too distracted by thinking about me.”

“I’ll try my best, chico fresa.” they smiled and he kissed her on the cheek and then she left to go to Blake.

He stayed at the front door to watch her leave. While he looked at her, he thought about how amazing these past 24 hours were. They were full of happiness and he hasn’t felt this happy in a long time. He still couldn’t believe his own ears whenever he called Luna his girlfriend and whenever she called him her boyfriend, it sounded like music to his ears.

He wouldn’t change anything about his life right now, he’s just filled with happiness and he was sure that this entire situation isn’t going to change anytime soon. Because for the first time in a long time, he saw a beautiful future in front of him filled with laughter, love, her smiles, their kisses, their happiness and that’s all he ever wished for.

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 11

More than a week had elapsed since my last yoga session, and I was pleasantly surprised at my lack of stiffness. My iPod sat silent in the grass next to my mat…the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks proved to be the only music I required. Especially at six in the morning. The sun had just begun to rise behind us, its warmth exacerbating the flush my workout normally provided.

Simon’s skill level was far, far above mine, and some of the poses he worked through made me stop dead in my tracks as I admired the way his body seemed to defy the very laws of physics. He volunteered to work with me whenever we had the time, and I gratefully accepted, though I fully understood that a grace such as his was something that couldn’t be taught.

We chatted while cooling down, learning that our birthdays were only a day apart, his on October 30th, mine on October 31st. He found my being a Halloween baby hilarious, and I was tickled that we shared the same astrological sign. Fellow Scorpios - no wonder he’d liked my tank top. I tried to get him to reveal his birth year, but he adamantly refused until I offered mine up first. The look of delight on his face as he screeched out ‘me too!’ was adorable, and when he high-fived me and christened me his sister from another mister I embraced him and kissed his cheek, grinning at the lovely blush it caused.

I took a seat at the patio table and opened my laptop with the intention of starting work on Tom’s website design. Simon sat next to me, both of us facing the ocean, and he began typing away on his phone. He harrumphed and gave me some wicked side eye.

My brow furrowed. “For fuck’s sake, what NOW?”

He showed me his screen, scrolling through his inbox. “Seven more since last night. You’ve made an awful lot of extra work for me, woman.” I rolled my eyes. He turned on his chair to face me. “I’m curious, though…I thought you just lectured to and consulted with PR firms, which would mean their actual clients wouldn’t know much about you at all. So, it’s kinda surprising that an artist would be willing to jump ship and leave their current rep in the dust to wind up where you are, wouldn’t you say?”

I sighed and finished editing my open layer in Photoshop before replying. “I started out working directly with clients. My first was Anne Rice. She’s is a family friend and was willing to give me a cha…”

He put a hand on my shoulder and shoved. “GET. OUT. I’m assuming this means you’re from or lived in New Orleans at some point? But it mustn’t have been for long, because you have zero accent.”

“Your assumption is correct. Born there, raised there, relocated to New York City in 1998.”

He nodded emphatically. “So you dumped the accent. Understandable.”

It was my turn for side eye. “I didn’t dump it. It just…faded.”

He snorted. “Whatever you say, Maude.”

I pinched his arm, reveling in the resulting squeal he emitted. “Faded. I’m like a chameleon with accents. Soon I’ll be picking up your dialect and sounding like a pretentious asshat, too. In which case, you have my permission to kill me.”

“You can call me anything you like as long as you solemnly swear to take me to Mardi Gras next year.”

I rolled my eyes and held up my hand, palm towards him. “Simon. Please. I don’t think you’re ready for that sort of thing. But, if you start training now, we might be able to pull it off.”

He tilted his head like an oversized puppy. “Training for what? Drinking heavily? I’ve been training for that for years.”

“No. Throwing beads into the crowd. And doing the princess wave.” I demonstrated both. “Because if we go, you must ride on a parade float. It can be arranged. I know people.” I frowned. “At least, I used to know people. Anyway, what I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted was that she was my first client, and it gave me a lot of clout. For which I am eternally grateful. I moved on after three years or so with her and began working directly with clients, most of whom were too small to have a decent PR firm behind them. I did everything, created websites, set up Facebook accounts, provided instructions on how to post, when to post, what to post, yada yada. Lots of hand holding and cajoling. Word spread, and bigger names took notice, which led to PR firms hiring me to work one-on-one with their clients for a specified duration. Most of them already had websites in place, so my focus shifted entirely to social media. In early 2010, I was invited to speak for two hours at a PR conference in San Diego…they wanted me to lecture on enhancing client reputation through social media. It was winter in New York, and they were willing to pay for my travel expenses so I thought, California? Fuck it, why not?”

Simon’s legs were crossed, his upper body leaning in towards me as he listened attentively. I had paused, and he motioned for me to continue.

“So, I spoke for two hours and they handed me a check for three thousand dollars. That was more than I normally made in an entire week and it blew my tiny little mind.  It seemed to be vastly less stressful than dealing with super huge egos and non-tech savvy artists and damn, the money. I adjusted my entire business model, and within a month I was turning down engagements because my calendar was full. PR firms were still asking me for assistance, so I set up a consulting procedure wherein I’d outline a plan for them to implement, collected my fee and was on my way. It was all so…easy.”

He laughed loudly. “And you decided to work for Prosper why?”

“Because my ‘easy’ job and the cash it generated had taken over my entire life. I was the job and the job was me. Much to my surprise, lecturing and consulting long term turned out to be a soul sucking bore…and it transformed me into a miserable drudge. I am, at heart, a creative individual and I missed doing graphic and website design, photography, and learning new things. Terribly. Working for Prosper allows me to do all that again, and then some. That’s why.”

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin with one hand. “And I’m sure it has nothing to do with the exquisite creature sleeping soundly in your bed right now.”

“No, it doesn’t. He was actually the reason why I seriously considered declining Luke’s offer.” Simon looked puzzled, but I didn’t elaborate. “So. Why did you leave such a prestigious position at the Dorchester to become a PA? Just for Luke? Or is there more to the story?”

He grinned. “Damn, turned it right around on me, didn’t you? Touché, my friend. I went to university for business management and administrative assistance, and worked in the field until 2005. Cooking had always been my passion, and I had some sort of spiritual awakening wherein I decided I absolutely needed to become a professional chef or else I would shrivel up and die. So I did. I moved from place to place, learning, working, partying my ass off, and finally landed the sous chef spot at the Dorchester in 2009. It was dandy at first, but as the years passed I felt like I’d grown stagnant, doing the same thing night after night, having little input on menu changes and so on. Like you, I was bored. I was averaging 70 hours a week in that kitchen, cut off from the world, and it hit me that all I had gotten out of it was a nicely padded bank account…and that there was no one to share it with. I’d always loved being around lots of people, and there I was seeing nothing but the same damn faces day in and day out. In 2013 I happened across Luke’s ad, reworked my resume, and the rest is history. Unlike you, though, I don’t think I would have taken the job if it wasn’t for him, because the salary was abysmal. As soon as I saw him, I knew. He was it. The one. Love at first sight. I thank my lucky stars every single day that he felt the same way.”

After wiping the tears from his eyes, he took hold of my hand. “Maude, I don’t know if he’s mentioned it or not, but Tom’s had a rough time of it lately, and I’m so, so happy that you’ve found each other.”

“Me too, Simon.” I smiled, letting go of his hand. “Now, please, for the love of all things holy, shut your cake hole so I can get some work done, okay?”

“God, you are such a bitch.”

“I am. And you’re still talking. Cease.”

We worked quietly, side by side, until Luke poked his head out the doors to inquire as to when Simon planned on getting his butt in the kitchen and making some breakfast. As he got up from his chair, he peered over my shoulder at my laptop screen. I had a basic layout set and was in the process of choosing a color combination that would contrast perfectly.

“Wow, that’s a right brilliant color palette you have there, Maude. Is that for Tom’s site?”  

I nodded. “Does it look…familiar?”

He stared. “Yes…maybe…should it?”

I opened the tab that contained the HD photo of Tom’s eye that I’d drawn all my color options from. “Tada.”

Simon poked my shoulder and called for Luke to come see. He padded out onto the lanai, looked over my shoulder, nodded, then put his hands on his hips.

“So, when are you going to use your magic to revamp the Prosper site?”

I closed my laptop and put my head in my hands, then pushed my chair back and went to wait in the kitchen, muttering to myself about peace and solitude and how I couldn’t find any even though I was in paradise.

Tom bounded our of our bedroom just as Simon was plating our pancakes and bacon, freshly showered, wearing a pair of faded, loose fitting jeans and a tight, light blue V-neck tee. I leaned back on my bar stool and around the counter to look at his feet. Scuffed, well-worn boots. When my eyes finally made their way up to his face I was greeted with a dazzling, toothy smile. I groaned.

Simon pinched his cheeks. “Lovely of you to join us, Thomas.”

Tom lowered himself elegantly onto the stool to my right, resting his hand on my spandex-clad thigh as he leaned in to kiss me.

“Good morning, Maude. How was yoga?”

“Spectacular, actually. Simon and I had a lovely chat and I even managed to get some work done in spite of it.” He laughed and began slowly sliding his hand up my leg, edging ever closer to the apex of my thighs. Simon set our plates in front of us, raising a brow as he spied what Tom was up to.

“Um, excuse me. This is a fine dining establishment, people. No foreplay is permitted.” I glanced up from my plate and saw Luke directly behind him, hand cupping Simon’s ass.

“Whatever, asshole.” I pointed at my short stack. “Do you have syrup for these?”

He pulled a pot off the stove and spooned some of its contents onto them. “Made with fresh pineapples. Especially for you.”

All eyes were on me as they waited for a reaction. I broke off a hunk of pancake with my fork and shoved it in my mouth. “Mmm, yummy. Thank you.” Luke looked at Tom, who shrugged. I took another bite of breakfast. “Yeah, nice try, losers. I happen to like pineapples. Just not on pizza.”

Tom put his arm around my waist, pulled me to him and kissed the top of my head. “I had nothing to do with this. I swear it.”

I said nothing, ripping off a piece of bacon with my teeth instead. He tapped his fork on his plate.

“So, Maude, I was thinking…maybe we could take a ride out to Talk Story today? I called to see if Alani would be in, and she is.” I spun the stool around in his direction, dumbfounded. He smiled. “I did say I’d go back to meet her, did I not?”

“Yes. Yes you did.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “What an amazingly generous thing to do. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. You’re going to be the one in charge of crowd control.” He stole a strip of bacon from my plate and swallowed it down before I could even muster a protest.

“I’d rather corral a group of a hundred people than have to sit next to you while I’m trying to eat a fucking meal, bacon stealer. And everything else stealer.”

He snickered, and I wolfed down the rest of my food, rinsed my dishes, put them in the dishwasher and headed for the bedroom, finally noticing that Luke and Simon had disappeared. I wrote a giant ‘thanks for breakfast’ on the chalkboard in the kitchen and drew a smiley face to go with it, figuring we wouldn’t be seeing them again before we left.

*************************************** After my much needed shower, I wound up standing in my underwear, staring into yet another wardrobe wondering what the hell to wear. Tom looked too damn good for me to get away with shorts and a T-shirt, and my black tank dress just didn’t scream ‘please behave and listen to the nice lady’. Tom was waiting patiently for me, sitting at the desk answering emails and returning calls. I looked at his boots, then back and my limited selection of dresses. The brown chiffon galaxy print sleeveless wasn’t an exact match, but pretty damn close. I pulled it off its hanger and laid it on the bed so I could unzip the back without it winding up on the floor, chastising myself for giving in to my everything-must-coordinate OCD once again. I slipped it over my head, put my arms through the proper holes and managed to zip it up on my own, then went into the bathroom to figure out a hair strategy.

I’d just wrestled it into a braid when I overheard Tom talking in the bedroom.

“How’s Los Angeles? Elsa? Kids? Good to hear. Oh, she’s unbelievable, Chris. Here, I’ll take you in and you can meet her.” He came around the corner carrying his open laptop.

“Chris Hemsworth, Maude Gallagher.” He turned the screen toward me, and there he was, Thor, God of Thunder. In my bathroom. He held up a hand in greeting.

“Hello, Maude. Nice to meet you. See you? Skype you?” He face palmed. “I have no idea what the correct terminology is.” I heard a woman yell in the background that meet was fine and for him to bring the tablet over to her so she could see me. He got up and walked into another room, and a beautiful blonde woman came into view alongside Chris. She waved madly.

“Look at you, you’re gorgeous. A natural beauty. And that dress…I am in love with it. You must tell me where you found it.” Her accent was a delight. She grinned. “I’m Elsa, by the way. Tom has told us so much about you I feel like I know you already.”

I waved at them. “Hi there. Lovely to meet you both. I’d like to say Tom has told me so much about you, but that would be a big fat lie, so suffice to say I’m sure he will tell me so much about you when we aren’t quite so…so…shit, what’s the word I’m looking for here?”

Tom moved to stand next to me, shifting the laptop so we were both visible, smirking. “Preoccupied. The word you’re looking for is preoccupied.”

They laughed, and Chris grabbed at Elsa. “Remember when we were always preoccupied?”

She slapped his hand. “Oh yes. I do.  And that’s why now we’re preoccupied with three little ones, my darling Christopher.” I heard children crying in the background. Elsa said a quick goodbye and ran off, and Chris followed suit so he could assist.

Tom put the laptop on the counter and pulled me to him, hands on my ass as he pressed me up against his crotch and rammed his tongue in my mouth, then backed away quickly, leaving me panting. “Well, I guess we should get going.”

I shot him a scathing look. “We should. But I have to pee first.” He walked out into the bedroom. As I sat on the toilet, I weighed my options for getting even. I mentally high fived myself as I pulled my underwear off over my feet and left them on the bathroom floor.

*************************************** We parked a block down from Talk Story, and I scouted ahead and left Tom in the Jeep. My gladiator sandals clicked on the sidewalk as I half-jogged to my destination, anxious to see if Alani was at the desk. She was, and I texted him to come on down. He ran to meet me, and I stopped him from holding the door for me and letting me go in first.

“Nope, you should be the first thing she sees.” I had my phone all ready to go in order to capture the moment, planning on sending her a copy as a keepsake. He walked through, and she looked up as the bell dinged to announce that someone had entered the store and the look on her face was one I knew I’d remember forever. He approached her, hand extended, and I was right behind him.

“Hello, Alani. I’m Tom.” She remained motionless. He turned to me. “This is Maude. We were here on Monday, and she told me that you’re a fan of my work and would perhaps enjoy meeting me.” She nodded, gingerly lifting her arm up but unable to make herself grab his hand. He took the initiative, holding it to his lips and kissing it demurely. She squealed, so high pitched I thought my ears might bleed. Four other girls came running out of the stacks, took one look at him, and began jumping up and down, screaming, phones in hand. I stopped filming so I could set the boundaries before any issues arose, stepping between them and Tom.

“Hi, ladies. I’m Maude, Tom’s social media manager. Let’s go over some ground rules, okay?” They lowered their phones and nodded. “Tom wants to be able to take pictures, sign for and chat with all of you, but in order for him to be able to do so you need to make sure you don’t post anything to social media until after we leave the premises. No texting or calling, either. If a crowd turns up, we’ll have to cut things short, and where’s the fun in that?”  

A husky, bearded, bespectacled man came out from the stacks, wearing a white and green palm leaf print Hawaiian shirt and khaki hiking shorts. “Girls, what the heck is going on up here? Why all the screaming? You know people prefer quiet when they…” He stopped short when he saw Tom, his mouth dropping open, then quickly closing as he grew closer, hand proffered. I figured he was the owner, so I let him pass.

“Aloha, Mr. Hiddleston. I’m Roger Marshal, and Talk Story is my baby. I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate your stopping by again…the girls were so bummed when they learned they’d missed you on Monday.”

Tom shook his hand vigorously. “Thank you for having me. Your establishment is outstanding…I’m a bit of a bibliophile, and if I had my druthers I’d be perusing the shelves here for days on end. My apologies for dashing off so quickly when I was in last, but I had a prior obligation and thought it better to come back when I had more time to spend.” He turned to me. “This is Maude Gallagher, my social media manager.”

I offered my hand and he clasped it gently with one of his, then placed the other on top. “Maude, nice to meet you. Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you both?”

“Actually, would you happen to have a room available that’s a bit more private?”

He nodded, then turned his attention to the desk. “Sure thing. Alani, why don’t you show our guests to the staff lunch room?” Her eyes lit up, and the faces of the rest of the staff fell. “Girls, you go too. I’ll cover the desk.” They thanked him in unison between excited giggles.

I tried to hang back behind Tom, but he slowed and fell into step with me and slipped his arm around me, hand on my lower back, whispering in my ear. “The way you jumped in and took charge did…things…to me, Maude.” His let his hand glide lower and lower, halting when he reached the spot where the waistband of my underwear should be. He felt around with his fingers, over my hip, diving quickly down into the crease of my left buttock then back up to my waist, gripping me just a smidge too hard.

I met his gaze, noting his narrowed eyes and the way his tongue darted out over and over to lick his lips. I smirked and whispered back. “Gosh, I’m sorry. I forgot to mention that I’m not wearing any panties. They sorta fell off back at the house and are lying on the bathroom floor, all alone and unloved.” The hand on my waist began to shake as we reached the staff room and he began breathing deeply as he attempted to keep his shit together. And round two of Friday’s Titillation Tease goes to…me.

Tom spent nearly two hours taking selfies, videos, signing anything the girls could get their hands on, and answering their seemingly unlimited supply of questions. The giant cup of tea I’d had on the ride over had finally hit my bladder, and I excused myself and went off in search of the bathrooms. There was only a one, unisex, located all the way on the other side of the store, tucked into an alcove deep in the stacks. Nice and roomy, too. I envisioned Tom fucking me up against the wall, then scolded myself for my blatant lack of restraint as I texted him precisely what I’d been thinking while I walked back to the staff room.

Roger had come back to check on them, which Tom took as an indicator that it was time to wrap things up. He was hugging each of the girls goodbye in turn as they left the room, saving Alaini for last. She rested her head on his chest, facing me, and mouthed ‘he smells like a FOREST’ while hugging him tightly. Up until that moment, I hadn’t been sure whether she recognized me or not. She stepped back and looked at both of us.

“This has been, like, the best day of my life. I can never thank you enough.” Her eyes shone with tears. “Would it be okay if I took a picture of you guys together?”

I smiled. “Of course. But I think it would be better if you were in it, too.” We posed, and Tom held out her phone to get the shot. I was entering my Prosper email address into her phone so she could send me a copy and she was putting hers in mine so I could send her the video from earlier when she cleared her throat.

She looked up shyly. “Um, I don’t mean to be rude or get in your business or anything, but I was just, you know, wondering…” She swallowed. “Are you guys, like, a couple?”

Tom grinned. “Is it that obvious?”

Her brow furrowed. “Well, you know, I saw what you posted on Twitter yesterday and I was like, hmm, and I know you guys work together and now seeing you in person…yeah. It’s pretty obvious, I guess.”

Tom took my hand. “Yes, Alani. Maude isn’t just my social media manager…she’s my girlfriend as well. And can I let you in on a little secret?” She nodded, awestruck. “When you saw us here on Monday, that was the very first time we met. So you played a rather important role in what turned out to be the best day of my life so far.”

I kissed his cheek. “Mine too, Alani.”

Alani flopped onto the nearest chair, clutching her hands to her chest. “That. Is. So. Romantic.” She leapt back up and hugged me. “We all want him for ourselves, but if he has to be with someone else, I’m really glad it’s you.”  

I patted her on the back. “Thank you. Hearing you say that means so much…honestly, I don’t have the words to express properly how it made me feel.” We let go of each other, and she made her way back to the desk.

I turned to Tom. “I need to hit the bathroom again before we head out.” He nodded and followed my lead. He didn’t mention my text, and I assumed he hadn’t read it yet. We didn’t see another soul on the way there, and the stacks outside the alcove were deserted as well. I recalled my vision of Tom fucking me against the bathroom wall and decided this was going to be my shining moment of public indecency. I opened the door, stepped in, then turned around to face him, left eyebrow raised.

“Want to join me?” I licked my lips. He barged past me into the bathroom, fingers already working to unbuckle his belt.

“I thought you’d never ask.” I locked the door, then did a 180. He held his fully engorged cock in his right hand, stroking it, catching any drips with his left. “I do believe I need to put this somewhere immediately so I don’t make a terrible mess on the floor.”

I bit my bottom lip as I tilted my head to the side. “I think I’ve got just the place for it.”

He ceased his stroking in order to back me up against the wall, growling in my ear. “Oh yes. You most certainly do.” He bent his knees as he lifted the front of my dress up to my waist, and I wrapped my leg around his, grinding my dripping pussy against him while I rubbed my clit. He groaned, and I slipped my glistening finger into his mouth. He sucked on it, and I felt the head of his cock at my entrance and his hands cupping my ass, his full weight on me, pressing me firmly against the cool tile.

He was panting. “Put your other leg around me and your arms around my neck.” I did the latter, but scoffed at the former.

“Um, there is no way in hell you’re going to be able to hold me up.”

He leaned forward to stare into my eyes, and his expression made me whimper. “Leg. Up. Now. Please.” As I complied he sheathed himself fully. I tried to bite back a ridiculously loud moan but was only partially successful. His mouth met mine, tongues dancing around each other. He pulled back.

“Maude, my apologies, but once I start moving I fear I’m going to last all of thirty seconds. If I’m fortunate.”

I clamped down on him. He began thrusting wildly, and I focused all my energy on not coming before he did. I was doing well until he started whispering in my ear using his Loki voice.

“Give in, mortal. Come for me. I know you’ve dreamed of this, me fucking into you for all I’m worth, you pinned against the wall, unable to sway those mesmerizing hips and have your way with me as you ride my cock to find your own selfish pleasure.”

He pounded into me, almost savagely, and as he felt my walls begin to flutter he put his hand over my mouth.

“Not. A. Sound.” I came, my scream trapped beneath his hand, the wet sounds of him moving in and out of me echoing eerily off the bathroom walls. “That’s it. Look at you, coming and coming all over my cock. So, so beautiful.”

He let his hand drop, and I could feel his thrusts becoming more erratic as I stared at him, his face red, jaw clenched, the veins on his neck standing out with his exertion. His head tipped back, fingers digging into the underside of my thighs, and his entire body shuddered as he orgasmed, come spurting hot inside me. I let my legs slide down one at a time, planting my feet as firmly as I possibly could despite the fact that they felt like they were made of Jell-O.  

He rested his head on my shoulder, and I rubbed his back. “I guess this means you got my text after all.” I felt him nod. “Well, if this is what not wearing underwear gets me, I’m never putting on another fucking pair ever again.”

We both laughed, quickly cleaned ourselves up, and I peeked out the door to make sure the coast was clear. Still not a soul around, and we said a final goodbye to Alani on our way out and proceeded to walk back to the Jeep. We sat for a while, neither of us feeling quite capable of driving.

He leaned over to kiss me, hand on the back of my neck, grinning as he pulled away. “I’m famished. Want to grab something to eat before we head back?”

“You already know the answer to that.” I noticed the street getting a bit congested, a small pack of women heading in our direction and what appeared to be a local news crew up the road a bit…I pulled out my phone and checked Alani’s Twitter feed. She’d posted the photo of all of us.

Here’s me just a little while ago with Tom Hiddleston and his girlfriend, Maude. He smells like a pine forest, and she’s super nice. #bestdayever, #thankyoutomandmaude

I showed it to him. “I’m thinking maybe we should stop somewhere a little further down the road. You?”

He started the Jeep, put it in first and stalled it as he tried to pull away from the curb, and then again on his second try. He smiled at me sheepishly. “Perhaps you’d better drive.”

“Gee, ya think?” We got out and switched places. I shook my head. “What a newb.”

He crossed his arms. “I am not a newb. I’m just out of practice is all.”

I patted his thigh as we got to the highway. “Right. Rusty stick skills. I remember.”

He chortled. “Yours remain top notch though, my love.”

I smiled smugly. “They do, don’t they?”

He raised his index finger. “Although, technically, you didn’t actually make use of them this go round, did you?”

“I’ll make up for it next time.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Well I’d fucking hope you’d hold me to it. That’s the whole point.” I saw a McDonald’s sign in the distance. “Dude, I want some French fries in the WORST way. And a chocolate milkshake. You game?’

“I most certainly am.”

“If you behave I’ll let you have my cherry.”

“Bit late for that, isn’t it?”

“How rude.”

“Perhaps. But true.”

“Not entirely true.”

“What do you mean, not entirely true?”

I turned off the highway and into the parking lot. The drive through line was mobbed, but the lot itself was relatively empty. “I mean that the fact that it’s a bit late for you to have my cherry is only partially correct.”

He stared at me as I engaged the parking brake, puzzled, then shook his head. “I’m not following.”

The left corner of my mouth scrunched up in mock irritation. “Really? Are you sure?” He shrugged, palms up. “Think about all we’ve…done.”

“Maude.”

“Good. Now think about what we haven’t done.” I gave him a few moments to review, watching his face closely so I’d see it dawn on him. 3…2…1…aaaannndd there it was. His jaw slackened, hips lifting almost imperceptibly. “That’s right. I’ve played around, sure, but as far as actually having a cock in my ass…nope. Which means, technically, my anal cherry is still intact.”

He covered his face with his hands, groaning, but said nothing.

I went in for the kill. “So, Thomas…tell me. Would you like my cherry?”

Shaking his head, face still hidden, he spoke in a low voice. “Maude.” He paused, remaining silent for quite some time, seemingly avoiding my question. I wondered if I’d overstepped some sort of boundary, pushing him too far.

My mind was racing, and I frowned. “Wow.  I’m really sorry, Tom.”

He uncovered his face to take my hand, gazing at me with eyes full of concern. “Whatever for?”

“Because I put you on the spot there and just assumed it’s something you’d want to participate in. I didn’t stop to think that it’s something that might not be up everyone’s alley.” I rolled my eyes. “That didn’t come out…shit…DAMN. Anyway, that was incredibly presumptuous and I apologize for letting myself get so carried away. Please don’t feel like it’s something you have to…”

He leaned in to kiss me forcefully, covering my entire mouth with his, tongue darting over my lips, then pulled away before I could fully engage. “May I answer your question now?”

I shook my head. “Tom, you don’t need…”

“I know I don’t need to, but I WANT to. My answer is, with undeniable certainty, yes. Please accept my apology for not answering straight away. I’m afraid I was too busy thinking about how deliciously tight you’re going to feel around me and then I remembered that you aren’t wearing panties and it was all I could do to stop myself from dragging you onto my lap and fucking you right here in the McDonald’s parking lot.”

His eyes met mine, nostrils flaring, pupils blown wide open. Never before had I been able to do this to a man, make him want me so desperately using nothing but words. He squeezed my hand.

“That you’d trust me with something so intimate, bequeathing me such a precious gift, wishing to share something that you’ve not yet experienced with another, is…I’m honored, humbled, awestruck…so very many things.” He smiled timidly. “I’ve never been someone’s first anything before.”

My brows shot up, but I managed to keep my mouth shut.

“Maude, there’s something I’d like to ask you, but…”

“Shoot.”

“All right. This may be terribly intrusive, and feel free to not answer it if you don’t feel comfortable doing so, but…knowing what I do about you, sexually, I’m…surprised…that you…erm, never…anyway, I suppose I’m just wondering why.”

I sighed. Good job, Maude. This is what you get for trying to be a seductress.

“Long story short, you’re only the fourth person I’ve been intimate with. The first two were before I was twenty and not even remotely interested in such a thing. By the third I was very interested, but things fell apart before it happened.” I put my arms on the steering wheel and rested my forehead on them for a moment, then raised my head and turned to him. I couldn’t quite read the expression on his face.

“Okay, I’m not sure if that look means ‘I didn’t need to hear that’ or ‘wow, only three, what a loser’.”

He shook his head. “It’s neither. Well, maybe a bit of the first one, because the idea of you being with someone else is much more unpleasant than I would have imagined, but…it was mostly surprise that such an incredibly beautiful, intelligent, hilarious woman wouldn’t have men lining up to be with her.”

“Thomas. Stop being so fucking wonderful, won’t you? Christ. There was no line, believe me. I’ve always been at least a little chubby, but after I moved to New York I put on a huge amount of weight. There are reasons for that, but that’s another story for another time. By 2003 I was tipping the scales at two hundred and forty-seven pounds. I’ve always been a confident person, and I honestly never cared what anyone else thought about the way I looked, but…you know what I’m getting at here, I think. In late 2008 I started feeling like shit, and Anne, who’d nearly died due to undiagnosed diabetes in 2003, pushed me to see a doctor. Sure enough, that was the problem. It was early, and resolvable with lifestyle modifications. So, I kicked myself in the ass, and over the next year I lost more than eighty pounds, and that was when I…a woman in her sexual prime, in the best shape of her life…met number three. God bless him…I was on a mission, making up for lost time and he could barely keep up with me. One time I actually thought he was going to need an ambulance…sheese, why I am telling you this? Yikes. Sorry. Lord knows I don’t want to hear anything like it from you.” I unbuckled my seat belt. “Let’s pretend this never happened and go get those milkshakes, m’kay?”

He grabbed my arm as I opened the door, and I turned to meet his gaze. “I…Maude…I just…you are…everything about you…” He shook his head. “I fall deeper in love with you with every passing moment.”

“Right back atcha, baby.” He laughed. “Yeah. No way I was going to try and out-eloquent you there. Waste of time and energy.”

We went inside, his arm around my shoulders, and ordered two Happy Meals when we saw the new toys were Minions. Neither of us could resist playing with them as we ate. Tom went back for a Big Mac and chicken nuggets, which I shared. He stuck his fingers in through the lid of my milkshake, deftly picking up the cherry and popping it in his mouth, a huge smile on his face.

We both used the bathroom, separately, and as we were walking back to the Jeep I heard the voice of a young boy.

“Mom, Mom! That man over there! That’s the man you’re always looking at on your computer!”

A woman replied to him. “Mason, what are you talking ab…?” And with that, I knew she’d seen Tom. I pulled at his shirt, and he looked down at me and nodded. We turned around and waved. The woman was about my age, maybe a little older, and she looked like she might die of embarrassment when she realized we’d overheard their conversation. Tom strode over, hand extended.

“Hi there. Tom Hiddleston. And you are?” She moved as if in a trance, hand out, and he grasped it gently and shook.

“I…uh…um…Sarah. I’m Sarah. And this is my son, Mason.”

Tom beamed and shook Mason’s hand as well. “Lovely to meet you both.”

Sarah reached into her purse, dug around and pulled out a Coriolanus program. She cleared her throat. “I heard that you’d be on the island and I’ve been carrying this with me, you know, just in case.”

He took it from her. “Were you in attendance?”

Mason piped up. “We flew all the way across two oceans so she could go see your show. I saw Big Ben. It was really cool.”

Sarah was bright red. “I saw it twice, actually, but didn’t have time to stay after.”

Tom pulled a sharpie out of his back pocket. “May I?”

She grinned. “Please do.” He signed his name, as well as a message. ‘Sorry to have missed you there, but better late than never. Glad to finally have met you. XO’”

As he handed it back to her he asked if she’d like a picture with him. He introduced us, and I volunteered to do the honors so Mason could squeeze in as well. I gave him my Minion to keep him occupied while I took some shots of just Sarah and Tom. He held it up to give it back to me when I handed Sarah back her phone.

“Nope, buddy, that’s yours now.” I held out my hand to Tom and he put his toy in it. “In fact, you can have Tom’s too. This way he gets to stay with his friend and won’t be lonely.” He thanked me so quietly I could barely hear him, eyes full of wonder at what to an adult was such a small gesture.

Tom hugged them both goodbye, and Sarah embraced me as well. She smiled at my surprise. “Thank you, both of you, so much.”

Tom put his arm around my waist as we walked the rest of the way back to the Jeep, placing a quick kiss on the top of my head.

“It is my personal opinion that you’re a much kinder, gentler person than you’d like everyone to believe.”

I sighed. “Yeah, yeah. And it’s all your fucking fault, too.”

[eevachu]

There once was a girl called kate/most think she’s very great/some people are wrong/They’ve been bad for very long/for their standards no person can abate

EDIT: The person who sent this came forward and clarified that this ask was meant to poke fun at anti-Kate trolls, not Kate fans. I misinterpreted it and flew wildly off the rails (as I am oft want to do lol). The person who sent this couldn’t have known the depths to which I have grieved over this issue as of late, so do not fault them for it. They wanted to send me a joke and I took it the wrong way (ah the similarities here to Kate’s comedy). 

I appreciate someone trying to make me laugh. I don’t really appreciate further spreading this drama, but people are entitled to their opinions, so they are also entitled to the consequences of those opinions. I will say, however, I don’t really like comedy that punches down (accidentally or not), because I think many of the people, who, wrongfully justified and misinformed about her or not, are doing it out of a genuine desire to help trans people. I think the puritanical environment that spaces like tumblr create for this type of discussion creates a toxic mindset that looks ridiculous compared to a properly moderated formal debate environment.

I’m keeping the full version under the cut, because they are things that should be said and I am so very tired of seeing people drag her name through the mud based on hearsay. You may use the examples I’ve provided to draw your own conclusions on the matter, as I have drawn mine. I’ve included some footnotes and clarifications. Skip down to the bolded paragraph above the video to avoid the majority of my emotional outburst.

Thank you for sending needless and harmful negativity into my inbox, I really wish you had instead put your time towards a positive goal like volunteering at an animal shelter, working to raise awareness over the plight of indigenous people in Canada or even just telling someone their hair looks nice today. (The thank you was sarcastic, in case that wasn’t clear.) Or hey, maybe you could have just said, “I know you love Kate, but here’s some problematic things she’s done you should be aware of.” Not write a patronizing little ditty. Catch more flies with honey than with open condescension and all that?

Since you seem like one of those sick people that get off to seeing people feel bad and subscribe to tumblr’s toxic black and white morality and witch hunt culture, here is what you accomplished with this ask:

You’ve made me upset, and I’m sure that was your goal. Congrats. I am an adult woman of 25 and I am crying now because of how upset this made me. This is nothing special, I am weepy person, so don’t pat yourself on the back. I tend to care too much and feel too freely; but anon, did you want me to cry? Because here you are. I am crying. Trembling a little too. You getting your rocks off to this? Happy to be of service then.

My being upset has triggered my anxiety over the issue of my admiration of Kate as an openly lesbian comedian versus the occasional problematic content of her comedy. I think about it a lot, because I am a critical person. The anxiety is going to affect me for several days. Right now I’m nauseous. I will now sleep poorly because of it. I will get less work done because of it. I will be in a foul mood for a week, which affects the people around me. I may self-medicate with alcohol or take what I like to call “a gravol nap”. I will lose money because of lost productivity. So you’ve lost me money anon, I’m sure you enjoy that. What is it about suffering that gives you your jollies, anon?

I work freelance, and you’ve interrupted my work day, because I cannot let this stew, so I have to take time out of my day to write out my thoughts as a reply you probably won’t see and take other measures for my own well-being. This really isn’t for you anon, this has been stewing in me for months and this is the last straw.

So here under the cut are my full thoughts on Kate Mc /.Kinnon Berth/ old, they will be rambly as, hey look, I’m dissociating a little (how fun):

Did you know from 2007-2010* Kate played a problematic character called Fitzwillia m that portrayed a dmab character that wanted a vagina? I’m sure you did. Anon, have you actually watched the Fitzwillia m skits? Here’s a link to all of them:

Watched them? Opinions? I want your real opinions on them, not just what the witch-hunters have told you to think. You’re probably a smart person, you can make up your own mind.

They’re in poor taste certainly, but a lot of comedy is. I think in the grand scheme of life, in the grand scheme of all human suffering and portrayals of queer characters, Fitzwillia m isn’t the worst. Certainly not great and certainly transmisogynistic, but like… watch a lot of TV from this time, this is practically progressive.

Is Kate maybe attached to this character because so many people loved them, approved of this character, and brought this character back for 3 seasons? That sometimes you do bad things because you don’t know they’re bad or that you do, but damn if you don’t need the money? That sometimes you’re ill-informed about something? That to create a character is to send part of yourself out into the world, and you always will love them even when you shouldn’t? That she hasn’t addressed it because to do so would be a PR nightmare for her publicist? That she likely doesn’t know this is even an issue because she’s not on social media? Probably. I’ve made some terrible characters, who did much worse things, who I am lucky to let die on paper stuffed in a folder where no one can see them. She was 22* when she made this character, in a completely different cultural climate than in 2017. Does it make it right that a whole team of people approved this character out into the world? Not to me. However, I don’t have the right to decide anything about the trans-related nature of Fitzwillia m as a cis person, but context is always important to me.When I was looking for a compilation video, I found trans people who genuinely enjoyed this character. I know I love some absolutely problematic gay characters.

Let’s put this into MY context anon, 2010 is when I met my first ever trans person. Ever. I was 18 and in college. I think it took me like… 2 years to figure out what trans actually was in a healthy way that wasn’t tainted by my culturally ingrained transphobia. I didn’t know dick all about social justice or politics or the queer community. I thought I was maybe bisexual. I thought I knew everything. By coincidence, I’m actually going through my blog today and clearing out posts from that time because they’re terrible, because I was terrible. I’ve changed so much from then, I don’t even recognize this person on this very blog. I’m not famous and those words are entirely mine, so I lose nothing by saying I’m wrong for what I said. Kate could lose jobs and colleagues and friends for addressing her past in a similar manner. She worked collaboratively on those works and people will take offence at her backtracking. It’s all very damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Is it right? Probably not, but it’s understandable. She works for Saturday Night Live, a place where they are constantly making things like:

That was made in 2015 and this is very mild. In 2015, I had a more senior coworker make a joke about how a couple we could see in the building across from us were “swapping their gay AIDs blood.” I think that’s a much worse “joke” than anything on SNL. I didn’t tell HR because I was afraid to lose my job, as shitty as it was. She wasn’t exactly in a position of power when these things were made, and she isn’t really in a place to speak out against them now. She’s just now hitting her stride. If I can’t stand up in my own workplace, I can’t fault her for not standing up in hers.

Did she joke about never seeing a penis in an interview? Yes. Did I make the same type of jokes until someone came along to tell me what was wrong with it in a nice way? YEP.**

Does she even know it’s an issue is another thing. She doesn’t use social media, certainly not tumblr. I learned basically all I know about the queer community from tumblr. I have no idea where I’d be without it; probably still making transphobic gold star lesbian jokes.

Anon, I’ve read her receipts. I always do. I know what I’m doing by supporting her is a bit problematic, but so are most of the things I do in my life. I eat meat from factory farms. I have a pedigree dog. I live on unceded First Nation’s land. I benefit from systematic racism. I don’t know what the hell my mutual funds are actually invested in. I’ve made rape jokes and said r*tarded. I was a schoolyard bully redirecting my anger onto other because of my home life. I’ve ruined people’s lives by things I’ve said. I have been a truly godawful person.

Here’s why I still love Kate, if always cautiously and never uncritically: from 2014-2015, I had a mental breakdown, until 2016 I lived in this sort of haze. I remember wanting to die a lot. I remember staring at the subway tracks and thinking, “what if I just jumped?” Do you know what that’s like anon? To constantly want to die? To be in a dead end job, to feel like you’re absolutely worthless? To have a pet die and just think “I deserve this suffering, I’m a failure”?

And then I saw her as Jillian Holtzmann and just… something changed. Something truly changed in my life. She helped me figure out I was a lesbian. She helped me see that out lesbian women could succeed. She got me through that 2016 election where I lost all hope again.

Did she actually do anything? I mean, not really. But she represented something to me and to watch people tear her down is to watch a part of myself be torn down with her. 

Why do I still love Kate, even if only as an idea, not an actual person? Because her saving my life outweighs the blights in her career. Because I give people the benefit of the doubt that they don’t mean harm, because they aren’t aware of the underlying social issues they are dealing with. Because I do not minimize the harmful way that ra// dical fe /.minists are recruiting young lesbians into the T /.ERF community by calling anyone who creates transphobic/transmisogynistic content TE /.RFs. Because I do not idolize, I admire. Because her job is to make people laugh and I truly don’t think she wants to hurt anyone by doing so. Because people are complicated and good intentioned people can do bad things. Because I want to believe she’s a good person under everything.

Because I am willing to forgive other people for things I have done myself if they seem the sort to be open to learning.

If all else is still unforgivable to you anon, I leave you with this: there’s a part in the movie Julie & Julia, where the main character Julie finds out that the Julia Child, this woman she has idolized and who’s cookbook inspired her to change her life, doesn’t like her work. She is devastated. And her husband says that there’s two Julia’s: the real one, and the one in Julie’s head, who she sees as her savior. The Julia Child in her head is the one that really matters.

Let me have the Kate in my head.

In conclusion: anon, I wish you all the best, just very very far away from me.

Notes:

* I was wrong about the original dates that this aired, BGSS aired from 2007-2010, not 2008-2010, which means season 1 was likely shot in 2006 with Kate was 22-23 when she created Fitzwilli am. I was pretty stupid at 22.

** I am actually really angry about being misled by this quote, because I had never watched the full interview, which you can see here:

The interview was filmed in 2007, 10 years ago when Kate was 23, she’s 33 now. 10 YEARS. I know I don’t want to be compared to 15 year old me, or really even 23 year old me. Like I really don’t want to be out here “making excuses” but you have to think critically about the context of the things she’s said and how blowing them out of proportion is harmful to people who are actively trying to harm the trans community. Sure, she’s buying into the gold-star rhetoric for a laugh (because it’s a funny joke straight people in my life STILL make to me and so that’s what most young lesbians think is what you do), but she immediately says after “I don’t think [penises] are gross, I think they’re fun! Fun to play with.” That’s not a typical transmisogynist lesbian dialogue (they usually say penises are disgusting). Which yes, equates genitals with gender, but like… I remember in this time period of my life I was doing the same thing. Not out of malice, but because I didn’t know any trans/genderqueer/nonbinary people, I didn’t even know trans men were a thing! In the same interview she says she’s more 98.5% lesbian, it’s very clear that she’s not sure about these things.

You can tell this interview is more an open dialogue between friends trying to have an honest conversation about sexuality in a time that information about sexuality and gender was much harder to obtain. 2007 is long before it became standard for people to qualify that genitals didn’t equate gender. And it’s definitely still not comedy’s standard, and I get what it’s like to constantly be bombarded with cissexist rhetoric that sometimes you just give in to make it easy.

So in real conclusion: I personally think, from my standpoint as a cis lesbian of 25, that tumblr needs to forgive and needs to draw their own conclusions by watching these examples, not repeat this cycle of screaming examples at people without linking those examples. Let people draw their own conclusions and be open to being wrong about something. I was wrong about the entire catalyst for this post, and I am so deeply sorry about it, and will be more careful in the future.

And for the love of god tumblr, stop holding people to such high standards when you probably wouldn’t meet those standards yourself if you were in that same person’s position.

[losille2000]

A Saving Grace, Chapter 4

TITLE: A Saving Grace CHAPTER NUMBER: 4/? + Prologue AUTHOR: Losille2000 WHICH Henry/CHARACTER: Actor!Henry GENRE: Drama/Romance FIC SUMMARY: All press is good press, right? Not if you ask Henry Cavill. After recordings from a disastrous interview go viral, Henry’s life begins to crumble around him. He has no idea how to stop it from happening. Fortunately, he has a new assistant who could be his saving Grace. RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS: None yet. AUTHORS NOTES: Enjoy!

Chapters: Prologue - 1 - 2 - 3 . Also on AO3!

Chapter 4

After the tour of Henry’s palatial house, Kal following close at their heels, they ended up in the office to concentrate on some real work. Grace was still unsure as to what she needed to do, but was grateful to find that she had her own desk in the large room, off in a quiet corner. Henry’s desk sat in the middle, one of those huge oak desks with intricate carvings that probably cost more than her car. Okay, maybe that wasn’t hard. Her car was a piece of shit and in the shop again, hence being reduced to an Uber ride from her next-door neighbor. Still, it was impressively sized, the offhanded comment that he was compensating for something playing at her lips.

She carefully reined in the urge to put a voice to it. Instead, and probably more troublesome, she thought frivolously about how it was one of those big, sturdy desks perfect for fucking if he were so inclined. But she wasn’t going to put a voice to that, either. In fact, she was going to completely forget about it and shove the thought out of her head, as unacceptable as it was.

Henry sat down in the chair behind his desk like it was a velvet-cushioned throne covered in gold gilt. It took him several seconds to find a comfortable position before he eventually focused on the computer sitting in the center. The top workspace of the desk was tidy and sparsely decorated: a few notepads, a cup containing pens and pencils, and a landline telephone. A tray for mail and other documents as needed sat at the right corner. Very much a business setup, but also with a lot of unused space. This puzzled her; he didn’t seem like such a minimalist. No man who spent his free time on women and clubs and luxury to excess was a man who kept a regimented and sparing workspace.

Unless she’d got him all wrong from the outset.

She didn’t know what to make of him, honestly, especially after their little conversation-slash-argument. Ultimately, she’d wanted to poke at him. Test his weaknesses where the subject of his problems were concerned, to get some sort of baseline to anticipate how he might react in future public situations if someone mentioned it, as they were sure to do. The story was getting old; the press wanted fresh blood in the water. They’d try anything to get a rise out of him to sell more magazines and get more website hits.

She hadn’t intended to let her personal opinions mix into the discussion and let it become as heated as it did. Worse yet was that she couldn’t really find it in herself to totally condemn him now that she’d spoken with him. Before, it’d seemed so clear cut. She’d been able to put him in a box with Dave. Meeting him, feeling him out, watching his body language, had humanized him in such a way that she had not been prepared for it.

Yes, sure, what he’d said in that damned recording was horrible, but his reasoning and explanation? She almost understood him. That, more than anything, was the cause for her initial ire. Working for Dave, and what Henry had insinuated, was a sore spot. But she also understood Henry’s yearning for a woman who met him halfway in a relationship.

After all, that’s all she wanted from a guy, too. Hadn’t she just gone off on the straight male species the previous afternoon, after her last breakup email? None of those idiots ever met her halfway, in the way she wanted them to. She gave and gave only to never reach equality in the relationship. The only difference was that she didn’t have cameras and recorders shoved in her face to catch her inevitable meltdown and spread it across the globe.

So, despite her better judgement, Grace found herself begrudgingly accepting of her new boss. He deserved a second chance as much as anyone else, right? It pissed her off. She didn’t want to accept him, and it was very clear he didn’t want to accept her, considering the way he warily glanced in her direction, but at least they’d reached an impasse.

“What?” he asked, an errant curl falling across his forehead. He flicked it to the side with his fingers. They were long and thick, like the rest of him.

“I apologize for earlier,” she said softly and turned to the laptop Dany had mentioned earlier. She flipped the lid up and hit the power button. “I’ve been working for Dave too long and I automatically think every guy I work for will be the same.”

Henry huffed. “I didn’t exactly give you the best impression of me outside, or with what I said a little bit ago. It’s my fault, really. I mean, you’re here for that reason. My mouth gets me in trouble.”

Grace nodded, and looked over her shoulder at him. “I just need you to be aware that I will not hesitate to call you out in the future.  I really want you to prove me wrong—hell, I want you to prove the world wrong.”

“I look forward to it.” He tried to hide it, but she saw the twitch at the corner of his mouth that threatened to turn up into a smile.

Grace spent the next half hour in the silent office familiarizing herself with the set up left by his previous assistant, ran through most of the emails in the inbox, and then returned to her own work laptop for any pressing matters.  The first thing to arrive was a notice that Henry had a new engagement in a week at a charity ball for the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence. In Atlanta.

Grace groaned. For the first engagement after something like Henry’s fuck up, it seemed a little heavy. In fact, it would be incredibly difficult for him to show his face there with no cushion of some positive press prior to it. These people were going to eat him alive, or they were going to completely forget about the recording. She hoped it was the latter, for everyone’s sake.

“Did you see the—” she began, but paused when she glanced back at him.

“Yes.” His jaw clenched, the word spoken tersely. “I’m all for it, but it seems like a lot after they’ve kept me under lock and key for so long now.”

She agreed. Then she lied to make him feel better. “I don’t think it’ll be too bad. You just show your face, do the photo op, write a check at the auction. Besides, you might be sexist, but I don’t get the abusive vibe from you.”

He guffawed. “That’s something, I guess.”

“Sorry, I just—” She bit her lip. She really had to watch herself now; sitting behind a computer monitor on social media the last five years had made her feral when dealing in real person-to-person relationships. Maybe that was why she found it so difficult to like him? “Yeah, I’ll just shut up.”

Henry chuckled. It was a surprisingly nice, deep rumbling. “It’s also a masquerade, so if things go dodgy, I can always cover my face and no one will recognize me.”

Grace frowned and scanned his hopeful face, dropping her eyes to his broad shoulders and chest. The simple cotton t-shirt strained against the muscles contained within it. “Yeah, I don’t think a mask will be much help.”

A single brow rose in a suggestive arch. “Are you checking me out?”

She shook her head as she turned back to her computer. “If I were checking you out, you’d know it.”

“Right.”

So why was her face blazing hot with a blush? Grace grumbled under her breath and clicked angrily at the web browser to open the correct link to secure plane tickets for the trip. “How long would you like to stay in Atlanta? In and out? You have a radio interview the morning of the ball, but nothing else scheduled.”

“Let’s fly in the day before, come back the day after,” he said. “Since I’ve got the time.”

Grace pressed her lips together, dying to question him about the note of frustration she’d heard in his tone about having free time. Instead, she asked, “Private or commercial?”

“Commercial,” he said. “And I’m leaving Kal at home, so you’ll need to make those pet hotel reservations.”

Kal popped his head up from the large memory foam dog bed in the opposite corner of the room. Grace laughed. “I never knew a dog could look so dejected.”

Henry huffed. “He’ll be fine.”

“Will his master be fine?”

“Why do you ask that?”

Grace again turned in her chair and held up Henry’s information booklet. She wanted to know what she was dealing with emotionally that he kept Kal certified as an ESA. “It says he’s—”

Henry cleared his throat and trained his eyes on his computer, trying too hard to not get invested in the conversation, and in the process lasered in on whatever had come across the screen with a scowl. “He’s both, but it’s not flying I need him for. Sometimes it’s just nice to have company on long shoots where you don’t know anyone.”

“Because no one could ever make new friends.”

His shoulders tensed, his face becoming slack and impassive, almost as though he’d checked out for a minute, as though he were having a memory of something. Finally, he seemed to animate again and said, “You know, it’s not as easy for some as it is for others.”

Grace didn’t say anything. It was a sore subject, clearly, and she wasn’t going to get anywhere with their working relationship if she continued to harp on it. In fact, she guessed he didn’t really need to explain anything. She already understood the reason for her assignment to him, and it was that his social anxiety manifested itself in a myriad of ways.

When they’d met outside, she instinctually paid attention to Kal first, simply because she adored dogs and she thought it would be a good ice breaker. Now she understood that Henry probably used him, at least in a few instances, to ease the awkwardness of new acquaintances. It gave two people something to talk about for a bit, that could flow into a normal conversation. Even so, it was still strange to look at the man sitting so kingly behind his desk and know that, on the inside, he was just a bundle of awkward nerves.

Honestly, the fact that he didn’t have it all together made him a little more relatable. At least he was human; a human who made stupid comments in public settings, sure, but still redeemable. She wondered why Dave didn’t think about going with that angle for Henry’s new publicity plan. Introverts and socially awkward keyboard jockeys everywhere would love a role model to show the world that foot-in-mouth disease was a real affliction plaguing even the most successful and handsome of men.

“You’re sure you don’t want him to come?”

“Why? I’ll have you.”

“Am I a friend, then?” Grace asked.

“No, you’re my employee that I can use and abuse,” he said.

She tossed the book back on her desk and stood up, smoothing her blouse over her stomach. “In that case, I’m taking my mandated fifteen-minute break and getting some coffee. Do you want some?”

“Are you any good at brewing it?”

“Usually I let the percolator do that,” she quipped. “But my hand has been known to slip on occasion and add a few extra scoops.”

His grimace made her laugh.

“Don’t like strong, bitter coffee?”

“I come from the land of tea, love,” he replied, his voice dripping in a much-pronounced accent. The curl on the top his head fell back across his forehead.

Grace gagged. “Ugh, I hate that stuff. Just go for the fully leaded experience! Quit wasting your time with leaf flavored milk water.” She added a visceral shudder for good measure. “And just so you know, this conversation is not part of my break. Because I’m still dealing with my slave-driver of a boss.”

His face lit up in a bright smile. Really, despite the initial awkwardness between them—meeting outside, and then the brief argument earlier—he already seemed to be much more at ease. Maybe his social problems weren’t as severe as some, but they were still deep-seated if they continued to bother him at thirty-four.

She wondered if, perhaps, he didn’t need a psychologist more than he needed a publicist.

Henry stood from his seat and moved around the desk. Grace frowned at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going to supervise,” he said. “That’s my job.”

“It’s coffee, not rocket science,” she replied. “If you want coffee, I’ll be good and give you some weak ass coffee.”

He shook his head and brushed right past her out the door of the office. She stood still watching his swiftly moving ass, shaking her head. Maybe the next few months wouldn’t be that bad after all, now that he seemed to be loosening him up. And that ass, man. She felt certain of her ability to bounce a quarter off its flexed surface.

Rolling her eyes at herself, she pushed those thoughts down. But even as she tried to do that, he paused briefly as he turned a corner down another hall, glancing back in her direction. He must have caught the look on her face and the position of her trained eyes, because he laughed a dangerous, deep laugh.

Okay, that time, she’d been checking him out.

 Henry had whiplash.

One minute they were arguing with each other, and two hours later they’re laughing with each other over coffee. Oh, and she started checking him out, trying to be sly about it, but he caught that appreciative female twinkle in her eyes more than once. She could try to deny it all she wanted, but he wasn’t an idiot. Nor was he immune to an attractive woman eyeing him up.

They’d only just met that morning and he still wasn’t sure what she thought about him. Though he knew a great deal of physical attraction to someone rested in the intellectual—whether they particularly liked each other or not—a person could still objectively find someone else physically pleasing. She might hate him for all he knew, and simply found herself transfixed because she was human and could appreciate a nice body. The incredibly confusing problem was that he didn’t get the objective feeling from her, as though she were a scientist clinically considering is attributes. There was heat there, in her gaze, when he’d turned back and caught her staring at his arse.

Had her ire earlier all been for show, to test him?

Not that it mattered anyway, one way or another, about what she thought of him. She was his employee. De facto, yes, but his employee for the foreseeable future all the same. Most importantly, if he allowed himself the opportunity to consider her in the same way, he was, in a way, proving her and everyone else right. What could be the most sexist thing a man in a position of power could do? Oh, yeah, hit on his assistant. Talk about devaluing someone. He refused to allow himself the pleasure of considering her in any way but professional. It would save them all a lot of heartache down the road.

Besides that, he couldn’t trust himself. After months of imprisonment in his house, mostly away from the general public and female companionship, he had no way to gauge whether his mutual attraction—purely physical, mind—was due to lack of options or borne out of a real interest. He wasn’t about to ruin what was left of his dignity on something like this when he had so little to go off of.

Still, though, he found himself watching out of the corner of his eye as she moved around his spacious kitchen. They’d both agreed to disagree on the coffee, and he set a pot to brew while she rummaged around the refrigerator looking for lunch options. She didn’t seem satisfied with anything, and her perusal stretched on and on while they drank their coffee. Finally, she stepped back, her hand on the refrigerator door, and stood up to look at him.

“You have the most well-stocked fridge of any bachelor I’ve ever met,” she said. “My older brothers—they live together—have beer, like five boxes of cold pizza, and a door full of hot sauce. Oh, and a place with tons of fast food sauce packets.”

He couldn’t contain his laughter. “That’s not even as full as it usually is. I’m on the ‘clean everything out because I’ll be gone for most of the rest year’ phase.”

She scrunched her nose up and looked back inside. “What do you want? I can’t decide on anything. There’re too many choices.”

“You don’t have to make me lunch,” he said.

“Aren’t I supposed to?”

He sighed. Sure she was, but he didn’t want her to do it. It would just cement her unfavorable opinion of him. “You’d be responsible for securing food for me when I’m either in the middle of a shoot day or in the middle of interviews on a junket. That sort of thing. Otherwise, I can take care of it myself.”

Grace nodded and shut the refrigerator. “Good thing, because I’m a horrible cook. I can burn water.”

“There’s no such thing as a horrible cook if you can read a recipe,” he said.

“Then I lack the tenacity for it,” she replied with a laugh. “And you have to admit, there’s something in the way certain people just ‘know’ when something’s done in the oven.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah, they use a thermometer.”

Grace scoffed.

“But you’re probably right,” he conceded.

Having won the argument, she shook her head and closed the door. “Have you been out of this house at all since—”

“Just my jog this morning with Kal,” he interrupted.

She moved over to the kitchen island and leaned against it, setting her elbows on the granite countertop and resting her chin in her hands. “Would you like to go out for lunch?”

“You’re serious?”

Grace chuckled. “Yes?”

He stepped away from his spot and rounded the island. Then he grabbed her in his arms and planted a giant kiss on her forehead. When he set her back down and she peered up at him with startled wide eyes, he almost felt bad for doing it. But he couldn’t contain himself. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a really long time since I’ve been out.”

“You act like you’re a caged lion and I’ve just let you back into the wild,” she said with a light laugh. Her skin on her neck had filled with a bright red blush.

“I am and you are,” he said.

She looked at him a long time, considering him a little more closely. Then she sighed. “I would have told them to fuck off.”

“That’s what got me into trouble in the first place,” he said. “Let me find some shoes and get my wallet.”

“There are ground rules, though!” She called after him. When he turned to look at her, she continued. “No alcohol. No clubs. No women.”

“But you’re a woman.”

Grace coughed. “Well spotted.”

He thought she wanted to say more, considering the way the muscles in her face relaxed… and then brightened with a sweet smile. There was definitely something else, but she didn’t say it.

Instead, she laughed again. “Hurry up, I’m hungry.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

[briighteyed-blog1]

werewolf, phoenix, griffin, unicorn

OCTOBER POSITIVITY MEME // Always accepting 

Werewolf: Tag someone who is one-in-a-million and comes through when you need them:

@roseamongthevines / @girlonadyinghorse

Alright, not only is Laure one of my closest rp friends, she’s also so lovely in the community. She’s pretty much help me set up my blog. She’s promoted for me, I always get spammed with memes, my Daryn inbox atm is 85% Laure, and I know she does that for others as well. She tries to make sure everyone feels included, and honestly, if you’re not following her kick-ass ladies, then you’re missing out. She’s really easy to talk to, something that I actually struggle on tumblr, I’m always worried I’ll come off as an awkward potato, but shes simply lovely. She gives me advice, she commits on all my ooc posts, and is actually such a good and true friend. 

Phoenix: Tag someone who is a bright light on your dash:

There’s actually quite a few, but I’m going to limit this to one person. I have never really spoken to them ooc, or have I actually rped with them but @killthebxy has always lightened up my dash. Even way back when last year when I first made my Daryn account. They have always been lovely to others and when drama happens. (Something I hate) They are quick to spread positivity, making sure everyone in the community is safe and happy.

Griffin: Tag someone whose friendship for you is priceless

@arsuledin Alright I have been friends with Nemo for years, we have been pals since I was 17, she’s probably been one of my first real rp friends and we have been talking for such a long time. She’s helped me through some really tricky times when things for me were so shitty and I felt very alone. She’s always been there for me and it possibly one of the funniest people I know, she knows just what to tag me in to make my day, and honestly she;s such a sweet pea

Unicorn: Tag someone who is So Good, So Pure™

@rcseheir / @decreedlore - Okay Sophie is so pure,s he’s lovely and is one of the first people I followed on my Daryn rp, she has always been nice to me, and although we don’t talk a lot ooc I really appreciate her and think she’s lovely!!

@thedragoninthesnow + 1000 other blogs, Dee is such a sweetheart, she’s been a joy to rp with so far and has always been super approachable and super lovely

@gallantshade This is the second time they have come to my aid when I was getting frustrated with photoshop, they have always sent me links and small screen caps making it super easy for me to work out what the issue was.

I actually want to tag all my followers because I can easily talk about you all, but I don’t want to make this post any bigger. 

[daddyconfessions]

daddy’s journal: 1/29/19

previous entries: daddy’s journal 1/26/19

Sunday January 27, 2019 6-bars text bright and early and said good morning.

Feels like I wasted my time last night with her.  She’d only been there barely half an hour before she’d left. Not sure if her pussy had got wetter or I hadn’t seen her in awhile, but that kitty was GOOD.  And..I hadn’t had enough. I was unsatisfied.

Could have saw her again. I needed to be disciplined. I was back on seeking arrangement talking to a lot of girls. Experience has taught me I need to conserve my energy, my vibe and conserve my physical resources. Anyone of these ladies could msg me at any moment…and I needed to be ready.

I curved 6-bars.

Funny how the universe works. Around 2pm Kwik text me. I’d met her around the same time I’d met 6 bars - months ago. I don’t have much to tell about Kwik. Latin chick. 5”2. A solid 6 on the dimepiece scale. Totally went into the situation intending to hit it once/twice and ghosting.

The sugar gods don’t like ugly. When I saw Kwik for the 1st time coming up the hall to our room, she was the sexiest thing ever. We met on our lunch break and she arrived dressed in business casual attire, wearing Capri slacks, nice rouge blouse, cute heels and well manicured toes. She had one of those name tags/badge clipped to her pocket for office building access. A cute brown clutch was in her hands to complete the outfit.  

Something about professional chicks. Idk. The fact that they been sitting in a cube, going to meetings and what not, then meeting me for lunch to fuck before returning to their desk is the sexiest thing ever. Now it was 3 months later. I went from some fuck shit to all out trying to seduce this chick and make it long term.

We’d been playing phone tag over the last week and today she texted unexpectedly. With all the unresolved carnal energy stirring inside me, she was the perfect fix.

Today she showed with her hair pulled back in a bun. She had on some gray shirt with a faux belt tied in the front, black slacks and flip flops - the latter at odds with her outfit. We exchanged pleasantries briefly before getting undressed.  “I don’t have a lot of time,” she explained. “I’m at a family Bar-b-Que.”  She said she’d left her kids with her family and told them she had an errand to run. They’d all gone to church that morning blah blah.  I believed her. Mexican chicks big on family events.

And Kwik needn’t worry.  Her pussy was so good I couldn’t last more than a few minutes in it anyway.

I lied and said she could have stayed with her family. Played like it was no big deal if she couldn’t have made it. But really I wanted to be deep inside her, pounding that muff for whatever little time I could before I came. “We could have seen each other another time,” I said. “No….” she said shaking her head and pulling off her bra. “No. I really wanted to see you. I been wanting it.”

Again…I believed her. I could see the submission in her eyes. She wanted me to use her for my pleasure and have my way with her body she returned to her life. I took a deep breath and prayed to the sugar gods for stamina before I put my head between her thighs, spread her vulvae gently and began licking her clit.

She responded instantly…moaning and grabbing my head. After a few moments I looked up and I saw her eyes fluttering. When It got good she raised up on her elbows and looked down at me. Her eyes narrowed and her sultry lips parted as I mercilessly thrashed her clit.

I wanted to make  her cum, but the way she was looking at me turned me on. I stopped and mounted up. Usually I ease it in, but Kwik’s pussy so wett. She got that…..

It just slid right in. Went to pounding that muff like a rabid animal,  controlled by passion and carnal energy.

Eh…didn’t last long. I kept stopping to keep from coming. Pussy was just too good. I tried shit like biting my lips and twisting my earlobe but alas…I couldn’t stop the eruption of kreme as I spayed her tummy with my unborn.

I fell down beside her…my body spent. It was bittersweet. The sex had been good but I had come too fast. That’s why I call her Kwik…you ain’t gone be in the pussy long before you cum.

After we talked a bit I wanted another turn. I wanted retribution for the lousy night before with 6-bars. I was suddenly emotional. “I have to get back to my family” she said, sliding on her purple panties. I was laying in the bed like a ‘lil bitch wanting more of the pussy she’d denied me.  As she put on her pants she was like, “We can see each other later in the week.”  She pulled on her shirt and began buttoning it all nonchalant.

With that I got up and kissed her goodbye as she left me in the room butt naked, dick getting harder by the moment.  I prolly was looking like Eddie Murphy in Boomerang or some shit rn.

Bitch.

Monday January 28, 2019 I’m ok today.

Slim messaged me to meet and after the unfulfilling weekend I’d had with 6-bars and Kwik  I was ready for some more sex.

But the sugar gods were looking after me.  Hilton hit me up and asked if she could come see me. I’d met Hilton on tumblr. She’d slid into my DMs one day like

We’d talked for some time before plans developed for her to come see me. Hilton was a cool chick. White girl. I hadn’t fucked with a Becky in a long time so it was refreshing to meet her. What a night of debauchery that had been complete with plan B pills the next day. Now she was back for more and…well…I was only too happy to see her again. She said she could see me tomorrow so cool.

I’d met her about October 2018. She’d been following me on tumblr since I’d joined. She’d waited patiently in the void to pounce on me and take her shot. She’d come down a few weeks after that just after Thanksgiving and gave me that kitty.

Hadn’t had a Becky in a long time. She worked at hotel and I reckon she got free rooms as a result. So I named her Hilton. I’d asked if she wanted money for our encounter. She said she wanted to fuck. She’d gladly take the money of course …but it wasn’t a requirement. We had a good time too. Her curiosity satisfied, I figured I’d never hear from her again.

Now she was back in my inbox. I didn’t cancel yet with Slim. I’d wait until Hilton was on the road to see me before I cancelled.

Tuesday January 29, 2019 When I was sure Hilton was on her way to see me, I text Slim to say I couldn’t make it today.

“I’m busy” I said. Slim made a fuss but…..Free pussy always wins. No hoe can compete.

I knocked on the door that evening. I had to knock a few times and then call before snow flake opened up. She smiled big and welcomed me in…all sleepy eyed and what not.  Working at the hotel she often worked the night shift. “How was the drive in,” I asked her making small talk.

After some bullshit talk, we got down to business. I got undressed and laid on the bed while Hilton pulled off her top. Like a lot of plus sized chicks, she was ashamed of her stomach so she didn’t remove the underwear until absolutely necessary.

I don’t’ like that and told her as much.

I like a chick that bears all….unapologetically.  If I’m fucking with you then I’ve already accepted you for what you were. To hide yourself, be insecure, is a turn off.

Hilton removed her panties, much to my pleasure and was stark naked as she positioned herself between my legs and went to sucking on Bart. I gotta say…..I don’t know if Hilton’s head is all that. She sucked my dick so good, tasting it, licking it, looking at it, making eye contact with me..I totally got off on her pleasuring me at her expense. Soon I had to stop her. I didn’t want to cum like that.

She got on top, slid Bart inside her and went to riding him. She got all bold. Getting up on her feet and what not, bouncing on the dick. I was amazed at her stamina. Even the most muscular, fit girls can’t maintain that position for long. Hilton held her own. I loved her effort. We switched to missionary for some pounding.

That young pink muff was too much for me tho. I was about to cum within a minute of being inside her. I still had left over energy from the weekend and needed to release.I started thinking about all kinds of other shit so I could prolong the inevitable.

It ain’t work.

The surge of protein was ready to erupt out of my shaft. I was about to let go when she asked if I could hit it from the back. We switched up and she put that big pretty ass in the air as I entered her again. Our bodies slapped loudly against each other. I marveled at the ripples flowing through her ass cheeks like waves.

Once again I was ready to blow. I pulled out and sprayed her back with a volley ivory rain. White on white. Lovely. I went to the bathroom to grab a towel to clean up the protein. Then I fell down beside her… my body spent.

Hilton had got up and put on her underwear again. Still with the insecure shit…pissed me off. Then she was half laying on the bed instead of on daddy and snuggling. I said something about it and she laid down on my chest and we watched tv.

Next thing I know I was waking up…I prolly had snored her head off. I looked down at her and she raised her head up and smiled. We talked a bit after that. Wasn’t long before she had a mouth full of cock again…reviving Bart for the second round.

Repeat.

After we’d got done I went and cleaned up. We talked some more…you  know. Little bullshit conversation you have on your way out the door.

[lunuanaki]

hc; velka + occult rebellion

So, this is what I’m running with. @ligetraesc had some input here (ask about his messed up face). It’s no less thought out than That One Wiki Thread, and far simpler if you ask me. It also explains Gwynevere’s absence and how Velka justified taking up against her own kind despite being a goddess of sin and absolution; therefore, balance.

Okay, so. First off, the general consensus seems to be “Velka is a powerhungry mf who randomly took up arms against her own kind and Havel was involved somehow and yeah it was totally her fault!111 That’s why Gwyn hates her!!11 Something something Seath…!”

Well… where does it say that, exactly? In game, all I can find is allusions to a “rebellion against the gods”, not against Gwyn specifically. Out of the game is another matter, there’s all kinds of crazy ideas strung together by people who don’t understand thatMiyazaki didn’t want us to know everything so that we would add our own depth.* I’m gonna add to the mad ideas pile right here. Things not covered include outside factors like Priscilla and Seath. Occult presence in the Painted World could be there for any number of reasons, but for the purposes of this post, it doesn’t matter - shit happens during wars. The time around where Gwyn left, Solaire was thrown out of Anor Londo and the curse began to permeate everything is so squashed up in my mind, and it makes sense that it would be. If Gwyn left, of course the shit would hit the fan all over the place. With Gwyn gone, Anor Londo is basically a free for all. If you’re of the school of thought that Solaire is the Firstborn, then regardless of whether or not he was still there, he was not a ruler anyone could have faith in, as demonstrated by his loss of a whole bunch of history, his own god status and his dad’s Van Halen mixtape. Gwyndolin is probably the best equipped to rule in his place, but never will for a host of reasons I’m sure I don’t need to go over. That leaves Gwynevere. Now, let’s talk about Flann. Who the hell is Flann? A flame-god, so potentially a relation of Gwyn - though not a close one. He’s all fire where Gwyn and his family are light, to paraphrase ligetraesc; all the destruction and none of the nurturing or moderation. A cousin, maybe? A nephew? Distant enough to marry Gwynevere, and close enough to have a claim to Gwyn’s throne, perhaps…?

Hmmm. Now we’re cooking. Let’s assume this is the case, and that Flann had his eyes on the prize from day one. What’s going to happen as soon as Gwyn leaves? He’s going to start gathering support for his claim over Solaire’s. Solaire, providing he’s still there at all at this point, would be known as rash and thoughtless. I really doubt all that loss of the annals business (literal or not) came as a shock to anyone, however tragic it was. It’s more likely that he was gone by then, though. I do not put any stock into the Sunlight Bladedescription, as Gwyn’s tomb is an empty placeholder that could have been built anytime; we all know Gwyn isn’t inside. It’s a mark of respect, is all, and its carving likely would have started long before Gwyn left, so that he would have the peace of mind in knowing that it was done and so that he could see the final product, his “official” resting place before he left - Solaire could have returned to leave the spell as a tribute to his father at any point.

Anyway. If Flann can paint himself as a good replacement for Gwyn, he will gain the support he needs from all over the human and lord regions. He could easily engage himself to Gwynevere, solidfy his position and move in for the throne. It’s worth noting that I believe Lordran to be pretty rigid in its gender roles on the whole, so Gwynevere would have had trouble being taken seriously as a lone Queen in a world full of Lords and Kings; so it’s somewhat to her benefit as well. At least this way she has Flann’s armies from his overseas homeland to back her up if someone wants to step to her. So, Flann is now in Anor Londo using Gwyn’s toothbrush. Enter Havel. Havel, aka Havel “The Rock” Johnson, is pissed. He was one of Gwyn’s closest friends and cannot stomach the thought of some puffed up little candle-flame trying to take his place over Gwyn’s own children. Incensed enough to turn to the occult for help in getting rid of this little shitlord, he approaches Velka. Velka has her own interests in this situation; namely that Gwyn’s family are her family to a certain extent, and whilst she understands that Gwynevere needs support, it cannot be denied that Flann has taken her crown from her. Now, I don’t see him requesting absolution, do you? Velka has been watching this with total disgust. Flann has discreetly committed treason by disrupting the line of succession and stolen her friends’ birthright**. She agrees to help Havel and his peasant uprising with the occult magic she wields, turning a human mess into an occult army. Flann may be a flame god, but he still has Gwyn’s remaining army around him, meaning he still wields lightning spells even if he can’t personally use them (which is all speculation). For example, we know the Dragonslayer and his electrified spear remained long after these events. I imagine he would have aligned himself with Gwynevere regardless of Flann’s presence, as he was one of Gwyn’s Four Knights, and his duty is whatever Gwyn would want. Meanwhile, the humans need to defend against him and his like; cue the Effigy Shield (which also contains a nice little snippet about the occult side going for Nito and failing). So, what happened?! Everyone lost, that’s what happened. The curse spread while this war went on; people were going hollow and being dragged away, adding another cause of death to the list for Havel and Velka’s army. Flann, though he’d have a reduced number as Gwyn’s loyalists abandoned him for the dark side, still had Lordsoul holders while all Velka and Havel had were numbers and anger. Havel was a skilled enough man to grab Gwyn’s attention, but Velka is not a general, and Havel cannot coordinate a war against gods on his own. When he hollows and is locked in the Tower, Velka is at a total loss. It’s no surprise that they lost. But, they made their mark on Flann before they did and sent him running back home with his new bride - still king in name, but with Anor Londo an empty shell, its people cursed and its halls empty, does it really matter anymore? Velka flees with most of her covenant behind her, never to be seen again (possibly until DS3). Gwyndolin is left babysitting a city he never wanted with the ghost of his sister and her insane guards, and maybe Velka won after all; because, while people talked of her ambition and her desire to rule as if it were a given, her final aim was to put Gwyndolin where his father was before and settle Flann’s debts (and soothe her itching soul) by erasing his crimes.

So, that’s about it, I guess! I might tweak this post if I think of more to add, but I want to keep it as simple as possible. I’ve got cotton wool brain today, so feel free to throw stuff at my inbox - there are definitely details I’ve thought of that didn’t make it into this post, but I can’t recall all of them.

Edit 1: From @sosayethlight;   #[I would add that I feel some humans were split between loyalty to Gwyn or Gwynevere or the Gods as an idea]#[and chose to fight ‘for’ her even while seeing Flann as an… Undesirable not!Gwyn]#[While others ignored her direct orders to stand down and accept matters]#[flocking to the Occult Rebellion and by proxy Velka and Havel]#[which might well explain where miracles UNIQUE TO GWYNEVERE come from in a certain archive…]#[war trophies from a knight-priest of the former Princess Guard..?] All of this, yes. I should have said as much about the humans being split myself, but I hadn’t thought of the spells in the archive. We areon fire if you’ll pardon the pun. OOHH, a double. :D

* I can’t find the interview now, but he used to read fantasy books in English - he didn’t actually read English well, and anything he didn’t understand, he used to just make up to fill in the story. This is what he said he was aiming for in Dark Souls. ** I believe the Gwyndolin vs Velka feud to have been cut from the game because it directly contradicts the idea of the Book of the Guilty being linked to both Velka’s covenant (via their indictments) and the Darkmoons; they can’t have collaborated like that if they were supposed to be enemies, so Team A made a decision to throw out one element or the other. They weren’t enemies in my mind - they were a team of sin stompers.

[acourtofstarsanddreams-blog]

In Over Our Heads- a Lucien & Tamlin fic

Summary: A look into Tamlin and Lucien’s reactions when Feyre’s goodbye letter arrives at the Spring Court.

For @feyreaelinmaas from her request in my inbox, I never do this (meaning write things and share them, lol) but I was very intrigued and inspired by the prompt that you asked for! I hope...well, I hope you like it. I’m not sure if it’s what you wanted or expected but...here it is. 

Also thanks to the lovely @abookandacoffee​ for answering my million questions and being a nice beta to me :)

******

Tamlin was pacing in his study murmuring, like he had been for so many days and nights in the months since past, almost so quiet that Lucien’s Fae ears strained to hear. Mumbling quickly, mostly to himself it seemed, he tossed ideas old and new at Lucien about ways to get Feyre back to the Spring Court.

“Maybe we should let her be, Tam­–“ Lucien started, but was interrupted by the golden-haired High Lord sweeping his long arm across the desk, scattering paperwork, old war books, pens and other debris, his emerging claws leaving deep gouges in the mahogany.

“No! Feyre needs to come home. Her home is here, in the Spring Court. She belongs here, with me. She’s mine,” he says, panting, his rage twisting into something that sounded quite like desperation.

“There’s no way to break the bargain, Tamlin. We’ve tried everything,” Lucien pleaded, turning his russet eye upon his High Lord. Anything to stop this madness. Lucien didn’t doubt his love for Feyre, but it was slowly destroying him. Like a poison, it seeped into his veins, burning and twisting until he wasn’t sure if any of the Tamlin he knew remained.

“We haven’t tried enough! There might be a way yet, Lucien,” Tamlin said, still breathing quite heavily from his outburst. It was clear he had more to say.

Lucien waited for him to continue, keeping a healthy distance between where Tamlin stood behind the trashed desk. The wood of the doorframe dug into Lucien’s back as he leaned against it, feigning a casual look.

“I’ve been speaking with Ianthe, and she says she may know­–may know of a way,“ Tamlin finished.

“There is no way, Tamlin. This is madness. A fool’s errand,” Lucien dared to speak.

“No. Not this way. Ianthe has friends in high places, and–“  

Tamlin stopped speaking as a tiny flash of light appeared over his desk, gone before either of them could blink. In its place, a sealed letter had appeared. As innocent as the scrap of parchment it was, Lucien knew it contained something far more dangerous.

Tamlin stared for a few moments before lunging for the letter like it held the key to his salvation. Lucien hovered near the doorway, knowing somehow, in his gut, that the letter had come from the Night Court.

With slightly shaking hands, Tamlin opened the letter with delicate fingers, his claws mercifully retracted. For now, Lucien thought.  

It took him but a few moments to read the entirety of the letter, or at least, Lucien mused, he had read enough. With a look of utter calm, Tamlin set what Lucien assumed to be Feyre’s letter, down on the marred desk.

“Go find Ianthe,” Tamlin said, in a chilling voice not entirely his own.

Lucien could sense the tang of magic, smell it, taste it, before it sounded in the air. The furniture shook, bric-a-brac clattered on shelves, and the very foundation of the manor seemed to groan, bowing under the weight of Tamlin’s barely contained magic. Lucien wasn’t sure whether to stay and try to calm him, and risk becoming a casualty of Tamlin’s outburst, or if he should leave the High Lord to his own devices, and find Ianthe like he’d ordered.  

Then, without warning, Tamlin let out a roar that Lucien thought, magic aside, might bring the manor down on its very own. Find Ianthe it is, Lucien thought as he fled the study, quickly creating space between him and where Tamlin raged.

From his position in the house, Lucien could hear shattering, valuables breaking, servants and lesser Fae about the manor screaming and shouting at the unknown source of attack.

Flashes of light flared from the shattered windowpanes of Tamlin’s office, his beastly roaring still thundering in waves, rippling over the manor right alongside his magic.

Lucien strode quickly through the halls of the manor, a full floor below the study where Tamlin was wreaking havoc, all the while looking for a flash of golden-blonde hair or the sweeping, elegant blue robes of the High Priestess.

As Tamlin’s outcries continued to rumble through the manor, Lucien wondered if there was anything left for him to break. The servants must be used to this by now, he thought.

Lucien wondered where Ianthe could possibly be. The manor, while large, wasn't so vastly sprawling that he should be unable to detect her. Had she fled, returning to Gods knows where? Wherever she dwelled when she wasn’t here, whispering in Tamlin’s ear and treating Feyre like a plaything. Continuing to prey on him, despite his rejections of her rather brash and incessant advances. What, exactly, did she know that he and Tamlin didn’t?

Ianthe was nowhere to be found. Lucien eventually gave up and stopped looking, strolling at a leisurely pace back to his quarters, wearing a cool mask of indifference, all the while servants still paced about nervously, some more frightened than others.

Finally, after what seemed like quite some time, Tamlin’s outburst stopped. The manor had stopped shaking, glass had stopped raining down from the shattered windows–Lucien figured it was probably safe to check on him.

The servants were still bustling about as he made his way to the study, though there were less and less of them as he neared the wing in question.

He was afraid to look, not sure if he'd prefer Tamlin to have remained in his destroyed study or not. But alas, Tamlin wasn't there when he peered through the doorframe, the cracked and splintered door hanging on its hinges.

The room was in chaos. The shelves were overturned and broken, books shredded, glass from baubles and windows littering the floor, reflecting the afternoon sun. The desk was flipped, the chair in pieces about the room.

Lucien’s good eye gaped at the havoc spread before him. It was then that he noticed, his metal eye whirring, the seemingly unharmed scrap of paper lying just atop an overturned shelf. He walked over towards it, glass and wood crunching underneath his boots, and picked it up.

Lucien’s hand shook with anxiety and maybe a little bit of fear, fear at what information Tamlin had gleaned from this simple scrap of parchment.  With his slender, pale fingers, he opened the letter and read:

I left of my own free will. I am cared for and safe. I am grateful for all that you did for me, all that you gave. Please don’t come looking for me. I’m not coming back.

Signed by Feyre.

Lucien read it twice through just to be sure, to know that it wasn’t some farce or illusion crafted by the deadly Lord of the Night. He even swept his magic out over the letter, feeling it out, seeing if there was any trick to it other than ink on paper. He knew, without having seen it before, that this was Feyre’s handwriting.  Had Rhysand taught her to read?

With all that he’d heard of the Night Court and the Court of Nightmares, how could Feyre truly be happy, truly be safe there? What was a hellish court of terrifying, otherworldly monsters compared to the peace and tranquility that the Spring Court offered?

He hoped what Feyre had written was true. Despite his initial dislike of her, he had grown to care for her, truly, as a friend. He indeed hoped she was safe, hoped she was happy, even if it was with Rhysand in his Nightmare Court. Anything was better than seeing her waste away day by day.

He had known Feyre had been close to her wits end, so close to breaking, but no amount of convincing could make Tamlin see reason. To make him see that he was suffocating her, smothering her with a blanket of oppression masquerading as protection and love.

Just let her leave the grounds without sentries he had asked, let her train and figure out what powers she may have. But Tamlin would have none of it. Something had broken him, broken in him when they had all suffered Under the Mountain. When Feyre had given again and again, and Tamlin could do nothing.

He supposed it was just as well, that Feyre had finally found peace after what she had sacrificed for them. That at least one of them had found a way to escape what had happened Under the Mountain, to escape the horrors of their past. Lucien’s throat tightened as other terrors, other memories of a time long ago fluttered through his mind.

The sound of a servant’s call brought him back to the present.

With one final sigh, Lucien once more surveyed the room, taking in the disarray, the splintered furniture and the shattered belongings. He set Feyre’s letter back where he'd found it, lest he incur Tamlin’s wrath for touching it.

Lucien hovered in the doorway for a moment longer, and watched as tiny specks of dust and debris drifted down to lay atop the clutter, and then set off to find his High Lord.

[dothewrite]

Ringleaders - Chapter Three.

Here is the original ask for this prompt. Here is the announcement for this project!

Prologue. Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Four.

[This is legit like, 5k in one sitting and I thought my brain was steaming out of my ears. ‘Is the lady suspicious, or is Kuroo just dense?’ - coming to you in theaters now.]

It’s a Saturday, but Kuroo finds himself waking up to his six o’clock alarm anyway. It takes him at least four bleary eyed tries to slap the snooze button on his phone, and he groans with excruciating pain that once again, he is required to function for another day. He shifts, his phone clatters onto floor, and he dozes back off to sleep for two minutes, dreaming about throwing himself off a high building.

Breakfast isn’t much better. It’s slow, he pours orange juice into a bowl and his toast into a cup, and the sound of children playing outside sets his teeth on edge. It’s a nice neighbourhood he lives in, but with nice neighbourhoods come families, which means children. He almost runs one over when he starts his car to make his way to his lab back on campus. The look of betrayal from the distraught child glances off him like oil on water and he pushes his foot hard against the gas pedal.

There is one saving grace, however, is that he’s famous at work. ‘Nobody talk to Kuroo Tetsurou before it hits ten’ is an unofficial rule, and Tetsu reigns supreme as the lord of zombies in the bright corridors of exhausted academia. They don’t fear him exactly, because he doesn’t snap or grumble if he’s disturbed from his walking sleep. It’s just universally known that unless you’re really deprived of conversation, you’re not going to be very entertained with a man who can barely form words. It’s even worse if you ask Kuroo to do something for you in a hurry in the mornings. The last time he was sent off on a mission to deliver a package, he got lost for about an hour and a half and was finally found sleeping underneath a bench outside. They took pictures, and he had to see them pasted everywhere for a week, but he was too busy feeling relieved that they didn’t turn him into a meme to mind.

“Morning,” he hears an amused voice call after him, and Kuroo waves his hand tiredly in reply. Or tries to, but his fingers only manage to twitch oddly by his sides and the person chuckles and walks off. Kuroo smiles dumbly, although what for he’s no clue, and unlocks the door to his office.

The chair is simply too far, he decides with one eye cracked open, so he makes do with the wall to his immediate left.

Sleep had eluded him for far longer than usual last night, and he had found himself taking at least five sleeping pills before coming to the realization that if he had any more, he might be put in a permanent coma for at least five days. Not that it’s a terrible idea, but he prefers to actually feel like he’s sleeping, when he’s sleeping. Without any other options, he’d settled for actually counting sheep. They were kind of cute- black, round things that baa-ed happily at him until they started doing little tap dances in his imaginary field, and his mind finally shut itself down a few hours before sunrise.

He sinks down onto the carpeted floor and lets his head fall into his arms. There’s a voice that nags at him that says he’s not supposed to sleep at work, but as his eyelids start to fall, the darkness seems too soothing for him to resist. This time he dreams of little sheep-people, wooly centaurs, maybe, running around in what is now a slightly purple field, making happy giggling noises that sound suspiciously like this morning’s children. A rustling sound suddenly permeates his dream, and he shuffles uncomfortably against the concrete wall. Not too awake, the sheep people incorporate the odd sound into their movements, their thundering hooves suddenly making sounds like paper on carpet. Then, there’s a pause outside, and the sheep people pause too- before he hears a decisive knock on the door that startles him out of his crumpled position. Kuroo topples over sideways with an ‘oof’. He swears he hears a soft sigh on the other side of the door, but forgets it quickly when a pristine envelope stares at him from the floor. He prefers the sheep people, to be honest, but he picks it up anyway and gets to his feet.

It’s a daunting task, but he’s a big boy, and he manages to wobble his way into his expensive leather chair (straight out of his own pocket too, he was sorely disappointed when his petition for upgraded office supplies was soundly rejected) which he collapses into.

Kuroo turns the envelope over several times in his fingers, noting how there’s nothing on it except for an exceptionally penned ‘Kuroo’ on the top right corner and sealed with a traditional lick. He tears it open with a noise of satisfaction when it rips jaggedly under his finger.

It smells like tea leaves when he sniffs the page, and is filled with a handwritten message that looked like it had come straight from ‘Calligraphy for Dummies’. He’s never received anything from anyone who had writing down like an art form before, but when he looks down and finds the signature, he’s surprised by how unsurprised he is. Trust a poetry major to write like the Queen of England.

Kuroo, it begins, and the lack of any formalities gives him a tired chuckle. Here he was, expecting purple prose. I hope it isn’t too odd for you to receive a written letter in this day and age, but I thought perhaps this would be the best way to get your attention. I’m sure you have far too many unopened emails in your inbox for any of them to catch your eye. Kuroo grumbles at that, because she’s right. After the previous evening, I suspect you might not want to meet with me face to face either, so this was my only option. I’m using my best handwriting, even, which I hope you appreciate because my fingers are cramping.

I… can’t presume to understand your position. Admittedly I only know the cursory information available to anyone who asks the right questions, but I have noticed that you are rarely intercepted by people on campus regarding your extra-curricular activities. I took the liberty of guessing that you keep your personal and professional life separate.

I envy your ability to do so.

Kuroo blinks at that. The sentence jumps out at him with sudden honesty, sudden intimacy, and he can see the way it pens darker than all the other sentences so far. She must have hesitated, or perhaps struggled with writing it. The smirk slides off his face, and he sits up straighter in his seat. He doesn’t know what he did to earn her confidence, but his discomfort was no excuse to disregard her sudden seriousness, even if there wasn’t anyone else to see him in his office.

Nevertheless, I must have been an unwelcome surprise last night. I, of course, had my own reasons for being there and will not apologize for them, but I should have given you less grief, possibly. I doubt I’ll remember I even thought this later in the day, so please don’t hold me to that; I have a tendency to be insufferable, quite like yourself. At this, he has to be impressed, because this is the first time he’s been insulted so very articulately, and it makes him squirm a little in his seat. Still, I assume that I am a little wrench thrown into your plans, whatever they may be. I would like to assure you that I have no intentions of breaking the barrier between your two lives- quite the opposite, actually. However, with regards to your ‘organization’, because it has overlapped with my own interests if you recall specific parts of our conversation last night, I will not be able to completely leave this opportunity before me untouched.

I’d like to propose a truce. A trade. An agreement, of sorts, that I hope will be beneficial to us both. I will not jeopardize your position in exchange for some information that I hope will clear up some of my own involvement with my… struggle, with authority. Authorities. We are different, but not enough so, it seems. I hope you will consider this proposal carefully, and as I assume you already know where I hold my office hours, I welcome any questions or enquiries that you may have.

I await your favourable response.

Yours truly.

The letter ends with a very dignified swirl that Kuroo assumes is her signature, and he’s faintly impressed. Either she’s put a lot of thought into crafting an autograph, or she has, most likely, given him her actual signature on paper in an act of good faith. He lets the thick letter paper fall from his hands and the first thing he does is pull up his own email.

The contrast is quite startling, he has to admit. He thought his emails were okay until this morning, but clearly, he writes like a drunk baboon in comparison. Thx, one of his emails end in, and Kuroo cringes so hard that his forehead meets his desk with a thunk. He considers replying in kind, with a damn posh letter, but it only takes one more glance at her cursive script for him to sigh and give up that idea entirely. Perhaps he’ll draw a picture instead.

He imagines a little chibi figure of him with a thumbs up going ‘okay!’, and cackles loudly to himself.

Kuroo catches her after lunch in their commons when he slinks in for his fourth cup of coffee. It’s excellent coffee too- all the grad students had pooled good money together to get one of those high-end coffee machines with George Clooney in their commercials, and ever since then it’s become a local treasure. The line for it isn’t as long as it would be on a weekday, but he spies her sipping on her own mug in contemplative silence, a large book spread out on her lap. He hesitates for a moment, but slips out from his position in the line and makes his way over to her. It’s a big sacrifice, and he hopes she knows that.

“I felt like I was being summoned to court,” he sits himself on the armrest right beside her. She on the other hand, barely shifts, and the only sound he hears is her small breath as he smiles and her hair shimmies forward when her head dips.

He waits patiently for her to close her book- anthology- and she places it on the coffee table in front of her and sweeps her hair to one side to look at him clearly. Kuroo inhales sharply at the very vibrant grey he’s greeted with- almost violet under the right lighting- and he finds that he can’t look away at all.

“Sorry,” she says, her voice soft and careful, “I can’t stop writing like my thesis. I can’t stop dreaming about my thesis.”

“Wow, your major sounds like a riot.”

“Yours sounds equally fascinating,” and he has to grin at that, “’cus then I’d dream about numbers and I might actually just die in my sleep.”

“Feel my pain,” Kuroo laughs, and although she doesn’t laugh with him, he doesn’t miss the way the corners of her eyes crinkle.

He feels thrown off balance by this completely harmless chat. Funny small talk and charming quips were his actual specialty, as is being a piece of shit, and nobody is ever surprised to hear his distinctive laughter echoing through corridors or past stairwells. It all comes out when he knows he’s allowed to, and his mirth dries up sufficiently to make way for solemnity during the nights. He’s never had to pretend to be casual in front of someone who knew his occupation, and what’s even stranger is that this doesn’t feel out of place at all.

She’s smiling right back like she means each word, both now and in her letter, and Kuroo feels like he’s being left out of some grand secret. Like he’s falling into a trap, but when she blinks, her lips twist into an awkward smile that gives away her usual loneliness. He can’t help but feel his gut twisting around his chest. He can’t help but feel like he’s not lying at all, and the very thought unnerves him.

“Your letter,” Kuroo suddenly pitches his voice lower, both in volume and in pitch, and his face darkens. She leans forward in response, and once again her hair falls back across her face to hide her eyes from view. She’s no longer smiling. “I’d like to discuss it more, but not here.”

She doesn’t respond, her tightening fingers the only indication of her understanding, so he continues. “I’m going to be frank with you right now- I don’t like the sound of anything, or you appearing out of nowhere. You’re getting into things too large for you alone, but if you really want to hear what you’re asking for, I’m not going to stop you. That is, until I know exactly everything there is to know about you.”

“You have a hacker,” she responds quickly, “your types usually do. You can type in my name and find out more about me than I can tell you.”

“There are things you don’t know even about yourself.” Kuroo stands up briskly and she glances at him for a split second. His eyes are chilly, brows harsh and unforgiving and he watches with a small ripple of satisfaction when she shivers involuntarily and turns her stare back to her hands. “I’m good at tugging those things out of people. Data can’t tell you if someone’s lying, but I can. I’ll know how serious you are about this ‘trade’ if I see you later. Four pm, at the closed train station on the yellow line heading north. I wouldn’t be late if I were you.”

There’s a muted silence to her movements as she reaches for her book without another word and opens it again. Kuroo frowns at the lack of response, but chooses to turn away to finish filling up his mug like he had intended. The chatter doesn’t stop around him at all, indicating that their conversation had gone completely unnoticed, but the feeling of discomfort doesn’t leave him. Kuroo feels like something had slipped through his fingers and he had no clue what it was.

Setting an alarm for three fifty, he settles back into his office chair and tries to forget about the way her fingers shook against well-worn pages.

Although he had told her not to be late, there’s nothing hurried about the way he walks towards the empty station. Still in his regular college clothes, he looks less like a man on a mission and more like a geocaching young guy, but that doesn’t stop his hands in his pockets and the purposeful crunch of gravel underneath his always metal lined shoes.

His approach is by no means quiet, but she barely responds to his presence before her, favouring her Starbucks cup in her hands instead. It’s four fifteen, the sky barely darkening at all, and she sits as if it’s winter on the aged bench. There’s something wrong about this picture, Kuroo feels, it’s a complete contrast from her carefree behavior the night before and where he had spent an entire day feeling like he was being thrown around like an orca does with its prey, she sits curled into herself, protecting her underbelly from the predator.

It was what he wanted to feel like, and Kuroo’s achieved it. She’s here on his request, and he holds all the cards in his hands now, all except for her promise of silence, and that’s quite a lot of cards to be going on.

Yet when she looks up, straight ahead at the train tracks instead of him, he has to take a seat beside her before his determination fails.

“You’re focused on your leadership role a lot, aren’t you?”

Kuroo is glad that he doesn’t have to be the one to start the conversation yet again. “I never mentioned being a leader.”

“You walk like one. You talk like one. You most probably are one.”

“Excuse me for being obvious,” Kuroo replies, slightly affronted. The small tell-tale breath sounds again, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, not like it did earlier that day. He has no clue how he had noticed that, and so has no countermeasures against the light flush that touches his cheeks.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” she murmurs, “and you probably don’t view them as faults.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Kuroo answers stiffly. “But I think you’ll find a psychoanalysis of me won’t get you closer to what you want.”

“No,” and this time she laughs out loud, “what does is a psychoanalysis of me.”

“Yup.”

“Alright then.” She shifts, and Kuroo finds himself looking into those grey eyes again. “I’ve nothing to hide. Give it your best shot.”

There’s a pause between the two of them, and Kuroo sniggers. “That suspense made me feel like I should pull out my hi-tech scanner. This isn’t Star Trek. Let’s just talk.” She’s the one with the quiet blush now, and Kuroo catches it anyway despite her efforts to hide her embarrassment. “You don’t seem like the type to talk to many people.”

“I don’t get along with many people.”

“Why’s that?” Kuroo finds himself actually curious. He’s been there, that socially awkward stage, and he’s still surrounded by it constantly (making small talk with Ushijima and Kenma feels like dragging an indoor cat out for walk), but there’s no mistaking the iron in her voice. This wasn’t just social awkwardness.

“They piss me off easily. I get pissed off easily.”

“Oho,” he smirks, “so the silent and serene type does have a fuse.”

“Yeah,” she shrugs, “I don’t mind annoying people, I just don’t like stupid people.” Her eyes sharpen in a way that Kuroo hasn’t seen before, not even during those dirty alley fights, and his fingers clench in his pockets. “People who don’t think from other people’s point of view frustrate me, so my ideology clashes with theirs quite often. I don’t have any political or organizational affiliations because of that, if that’s what you were angling for.”

“I can certainly see why you don’t like idiots,” he nods, somewhat empathetically, “you’re not too slow yourself.”

“You’re lucky I have brothers,” she eyes him amusedly, “your insults sting quite a bit.”

“Backhanded compliments, I’d like to think of them as,” Kuroo corrects. “I’m nice to my friends.”

Her eyes soften at that, and she looks away. There’s a taste of wistfulness that tugs at the corners of her lips, and Kuroo feels left out of some obvious secret yet again. “Are your brothers your only regular social contact?”

“Yes, I try to stay away from their friends. I’m not involved with whatever they get up to either, I just follow them on the evenings where they’re headed towards trouble. I don’t know who I end up fighting either, only that they’re after my younger brother in particular. He finds it fun and easy to scam drug dealers, you see, so I have to clean up his mess.”

“So he’s smart, but can’t finish his own battles, huh?”

“Precisely. They’ve nothing to do with why I want to know more. They’re just something I have to live with.”

Kuroo reckons it’s a bit more than that, but he keeps his silence. “Then tell me why you want to know more, and why you aren’t blackmailing me for something bigger.”

“I’m not blackmailing you,” she huffs, and she turns back to him with an exasperated look, “I know that’s what it sounded like in my letter, but how else were you to come to me? I’m going to keep your secret anyway.”

“Why?”

“Can’t you tell?” Her cup gives a low pop when her fingers dig into it mercilessly. “You’re so good at sniffing out lies and asking invasive questions, but you can’t tell what’s in someone’s eyes?”

“I can’t, not anymore,” and the honest admission astonishes him. Kuroo itches to clap a hand over his mouth, but the tension in his body is growing, and he feels like he’s being hung dry in a desert and he’s the only thing left, soaked and miserable underneath his own raincloud. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. “Can’t you tell?” He mocks.

She bites her lip between her teeth so hard that it leaves red marks. However, the sudden anger is draining, and there’s something too alike sorrow in her stare. It confuses him too much for him to feel irritated by it, and Kuroo finds himself at a loss for words.

“I’m always angry,” she finally says, and he feels it like a stab to his gut. “I’m always… searching for something, and I’m tired of not knowing what for. Maybe it’s just my indifference to everything, but the longer I sit still, the more I feel like I’m losing something.”

He knows. He knows so well that it feels like someone’s carving a ditch in his chest, and a memory of his merry band of misfits around a table floats up.

“I’m doing this for me, Kuroo,” she’s sitting completely straight and he doesn’t recognize this person at all. At the same time, he sees her every day, when he looks in the mirror, and when he goes to his headquarters at night. It’s been so long that he’s forgotten the name, forgotten what it looks like when it rises to the surface after it’s been buried into his bones for so long. “I don’t need anything bigger from you, because I don’t need anything. I want to know more because- because-,” he waits and waits for the words to stop choking her voice, “-because I can’t do anything by myself, but you seem like you know what path you’re on. I just want to be on my own path, that’s all. I’m curious about your organization because it’s the only one that the strays stick with, and I wish my brother joined your group instead of fucking around with drugs all the time.”

It’s a mess of statements, one after the other with no transition at all, and she slumps backwards onto the bench and hurls her cup onto the dilapidated train tracks. It skids to a stop, her incorrectly spelled name revealing itself underneath the dimming sunlight.

“Ahh…” she sighs, and he glances at her, “it’s been a while since I’ve felt so much about anything. I’m tired.”

“Yes,” Kuroo finds his tongue again, “I thought I fucked up and met up with the wrong person.”

“I’m normally quite calm, I promise,” she smiles, although it is quite tired, it’s genuine, and he can see the relief in her eyes.

“Your mysterious persona was done pretty well for someone with so much, uh, emotion.”

“It’s not a persona,” she grins, “and I can’t believe you thought I was mysterious.”

“You showed up in the sewage system in the middle of the night and said nothing. Seriously?”

She rises to her feet, still grinning, and he follows. Kuroo realizes that he’s a good head taller than her, and has to take a step away so that he can look down to see her face properly. “I just like being insufferable, like I said. Being annoying is what keeps me sane.”

“I suppose we have something in common,” he admits grudgingly, but he doesn’t feel as disgruntled as he sounds when he sees he relax. He’s said something right, although how that little comment had ended up being positive, he has no clue.

“So we’re good?” She asks.

“We’re good.” Kuroo nods. “There’ll be something sent to you tomorrow, if everything checks out.”

She looks a bit puzzled at that, but the smile doesn’t fade and she shrugs again. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

He nods again and lifts a hand goodbye. She mirrors his action, and he turns away before she does, heading back to his car the way he came.

“That was kind of you.”

Kuroo stops suddenly in the middle of the crowded pavement and someone bumps face first into his back. He waves a hand and apologies sheepishly at the disgruntled businessman who hurries along with a sour look on his face. Akaashi, on the other hand, says nothing and watches as his friend stumbles his way through basic social interaction.

“Were you spying on me again?” Kuroo sighs, and gestures for him to follow. Akaashi pushes himself off the wall with a kick and falls into step beside him. “Coffee?”

“The one two streets down has good seating,” Akaashi points out, and Kuroo hums, changing direction. “And yes, I was spying. It’s my job, Tetsu, the one you gave me.”

“The beast is free! Nobody is safe!” Kuroo cries dramatically with a hand over his heart. Akaashi rolls his eyes.

“Not men who slink off to abandoned train stations to meet up with girls.”

“Well? What’s the verdict?”

“The verdict is: you didn’t ask her very much.” Akaashi doesn’t sound accusing, only objective, and Kuroo feels grateful once again for so much tact built into one man. If it were Oikawa, or Nishinoya, he’d never hear the end of it. Or Tsukishima- it’d probably be inscribed onto his gravestone for all he knew. “You seemed moved. Do you trust her?”

“I think so,” Kuroo replies slowly, “oddly enough, she didn’t lie once.”

“A lot of people don’t lie about what they believe in. You’ve just been in this business too long.”

“I guess you could say so.”

Akaashi sighs again, this time fondly with a tinge of chastisement. Kuroo hangs his head at the sound. He doesn’t quite know what he did in a past life to deserve such a friend, but any time he tries to imagine life without Akaashi he feels a little part of his soul curl up and die.

“You’re really obtuse for an intelligent person; you should take a holiday and see if those brain cells grow back.”

“I don’t get paid for days off unless I’ve a doctor’s note,” Kuroo jokes, but Akaashi’s quiet, and Kuroo knows that his joke falls flat in the face of actual worry. “Maybe, ‘Kaashi,” he amends, “if I have some peace and quiet, maybe.”

“It’ll help,” comes the gentle reply, and Kuroo feels a warm hand brush against his. He takes it, and squeezes. “Maybe you’ll find some things you’ve lost over time.” Akaashi squeezes back. “Maybe you’ll realize why she didn’t seem quite the way you thought when you showed up.”

“You know absolutely everything, don’t you? You should have gone in my place with a mask of my face and would’ve done a better job being me than I did.”

“Obviously. But not everyone is as blind as you are, Tetsu,” and Kuroo laughs openly at that. “How anyone thinks that you’re intimidating is beyond me.”

“Dude, I’m just a cat pretending to know what I’m doing. All I really want in life is to sleep.”

“I see no inaccuracies in that statement.”

Kuroo smiles straight ahead, and something tells him that Akaashi is doing the same. Whatever strain he had been feeling earlier after his impromptu meeting seems to be melting right through his arm and out from the hand that still has Akaashi’s gripped softly in it.

“You missed your date, by the way.” Akaashi, Kuroo’s personal keeper, calendar and mother, adds.

Kuroo closes his eyes and tilts his head up towards the sky like he’s praying. “I know. I just ignored the messages.”

“And the phone calls.”

“And the phone calls,” Kuroo agrees.

“Do you want to be known to women as something other than a dick? Because I’ve got some news for you,” asks Akaashi, and Kuroo grins.

“I don’t care what women think. Do you think I’m a dick?”

“Quite a small one.”

“Ouch,” and Akaashi laughs. They’re almost there, their hands still linked in solidarity and companionship, and they push through the busy crowd with double the shoulders.

“Bokuto’s asked after you too,” Akaashi says, this time a little quieter, afraid to be overheard, “and I know you never avoid his messages.”

“Bokuto, my man! Does he just want to talk? Or has he painted some anti-government propaganda again, because I swear to god I can’t bail him out of trouble every damn time. How does he even manage to get his galleries set up when he’s always running from the police?”

“That’s a lot of frustration,” Akaashi smirks, “and I can answer all those questions for you but I shan’t. Be a decent person and catch up with your friends once in a while, please.”

“Aye aye, ma’am.”

The barista welcomes them with a bright smile the moment they step in, and Kuroo finds it surprisingly easy to return the greeting with equal vigor. Akaashi was right- the seating is fantastic, and they pick out a small corner next to a window facing a tall skyscraper opposite. He’s tempted to close his eyes and sink into a very deep sleep in his very comfortable armchair.

“No more caffeine for you,” Akaashi gives him a mild stink eye, “but I’ll get you fruit juice.”

He spins away immediately when Kuroo blows him a sloppy kiss, but Kuroo catches a glimpse of the small smile anyway. He watches as Akaashi joins the line with his trademark, unimpressed expression, and wonders if he should text several apologies now that he has a moment to spare. Kuroo pulls out his phone wearily and stares at it for a few moments before dropping it onto his slumped chest.

Eh, he had time, and a small nap wouldn’t hurt anyone.

[g0dblessthefandom]

Since You’ve Been Gone – A Brittana Valentine’s Semi AU (Updated Daily Until Valentine’s Day) February 8, 2017

Nevertheless, she persisted.  

February 8, 2017

“It’s only been a week.”

Santana had been making the most of Mercedes home gym and might have tuned out with on the elliptical when her friend appeared beside her.

She faltered for a moment, and then regained her composure. “Huh?”

“I just meant, I wouldn’t take what happened last night too personally. It’s only been a week since you’ve been back. Not even that. You’ve got to give her some time.”

“Yeah.” Santana ran a hand through her hair. “And if it were just a matter of avoiding her until we both had time to settle into the idea, then I’d say you were right. But I’ve seen her every day since I got to this stupid city. My best friends are her best friends. It’s like I can’t avoid her.”

“I’m not happy about what she pulled last night, but she wasn’t wrong. She’s dating the guy, if Rachel didn’t say not to bring him, why wouldn’t she? You two broke up remember?”

“Geez, Mercedes, nice to know who’s side you’re on.”

“I’m not on anybody’s side, Santana. Or, I’m on both your sides. I know you like to think the world hasn’t stopped turning since you moved away, but who’s shoulder do you think Brittany was crying on when you stopped returning her calls? Who do you think went over to help her put her Ikea furniture together and had her over for movie night on snowy days? Who do you think I called when I kicked Sam out for the third time-”

“And finally came to your senses?”

“And finally came to my senses.” Mercedes repeated with a half smile. “Brittany has been here with all of us for as long as I’ve needed her and she’s done the same for me. She’s not just your ex, Santana, she’s our friend.”

Santana slowed the machine to a stop. “You’re right, Mercedes, I’m sorry.” She mumbled.

“I know you love her, Santana, and I know you want her back, but you’ve got to think about what she gets out of the whole deal. How’s getting back with you going to improve her life? What do you have to offer?”

Mercedes let the question hang in the air, and Santana seemed to think about it.

“I dunno, I mean, I’m currently unemployed, though I do have a meeting tomorrow with a friend of Kurt’s over at Vogue.”

“You’re not really building yourself up here, kid.”

“I’m living with you. I probably have nothing valuable to my name.”

“Riiiight, but maybe you could try to be more positive.”

“And-” She continued, ignoring Mercedes. “Only six short months ago, I called her every name in the book, hung up on her, and broke her heart.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m an asshole.”

Mercedes walked around the machine, handing Santana a towel. “Yeah, probably. But, the thing about being an asshole, and knowing you’re an asshole is that now you can try and do something about it.”

“What can I do, Mercedes? She knows I’m a fuck up. She knows she can’t trust me. She’s actively dating someone. I don’t know if there’s much of a chance anymore.”

“Oh, come on, that doesn’t sound like you, Santana. You and I both know you’ll never stop loving that woman, and she’ll never stop loving you. You have plenty to offer, but that’s it most of all. If you want her, if you really think you deserve her, you’re going to have to show her how you feel. That’s what brought you out here! That was the fire under your butt that finally got you on that plane! I’m not quite sure how you got disillusioned so easily, quite frankly.”

“Poor plot development?”

Mercedes laughed. “This is your romantic comedy, Santana. You make it what you want. And if you want Britt, then you should show her that.”

Santana smiled and jumped down off the elliptical. “Well, where is the room for comical misunderstandings if we just talked to each other?”

“I’d think at this point in your life you’d want to cut down on the misunderstandings.”

“Fair.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I think-” Santana thought about it for a second. “I think I’m going to take her out on a date.”

\

Jane wasn’t sure how she got caught up in this whole thing. She loved Sugar (wow, she’d never thought about the L word before, and now it was popping up. She’d have to deal with that later), but her friend drama was moving over from entertaining to all encompassing. She’d heard about some of the near incestual relationships that had happened while they had been in high school, but this was getting ridiculous. Brittany (her boss) would be arriving to her office any minute, and her ex, Santana Lopez, had burst inside and was waiting for her. Granted, Jane hadn’t really tried to keep Santana out of the office. She rather wanted to see the two of them end up together. She hadn’t known what to make of Santana at first, but the way that Brittany looked at her was unmistakable. There was definitely something real there.

But the two of them kept passing each other like ships in the night, and it would take an iceberg of gigantic proportions to stop them. That’s why she hadn’t put up much of a fight. She thought Clark seemed like a good enough guy. But he was tall and blonde, and blander than any doctor Jane had ever met. The way they interacted seemed more like siblings than lovers, and anybody could see that. Well, except maybe for Santana.

So, when Brittany burst through the office  door a moment later, she just smiled politely, and gathered her things, which she’d already laid out in her lap.

“Hey, Boss, I’m heading out a little early. I’ve got a thing with Sug. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She was out of the door like a flash and only registered a brief wave before she was gone. She just hoped Santana could take it from there.

For her part, Brittany was only slightly confused. She figured that it would take an act of god to keep Sugar and Jane from each other if one of them put out a call, but it was only fifteen minutes from the time she normally left work, so what was the rush? Brittany checked the inbox that she kept on Jane’s desk, and took out the correspondence, shuffling through it as she walked into the office.

“Hey Britt.”

The voice was low, and Brittany would have recognized it anywhere, but she still jolted, spilling envelopes all over the floor. Santana was sitting on the arm of one of her office chairs, wearing a pair of overalls that she’d owned since 10th grade, and still, somehow, managed to look smoking in.

“Dammit.” Brittany said, bending down to pick up the envelopes.

“Sorry about that. I just thought I’d wait in here for you, and Jane said that I could.” Santana grabbed a few of the letters, and handed them to Brittany sheepishly. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Brittany rounded her desk, and laid the papers there, grabbing her bag. “What’s up, Santana? I thought you needed some space.”

“Yeah. I did. I mean, I do. Kind of.”

Santana balled her hands up nervously, and Brittany had to focus on stuffing her papers into her bag. This was the nervous Santana that she wanted to kiss into confidence. It didn’t always work, but they’d always enjoyed the kissing. She shook herself out of the memory.

“Kind of?”

“Right. Can we talk? For a second?”

Brittany was worried but she put down her bag and had a seat. “Sure.”

“Thanks. Um, before we start, I just want you to know that if there’s anything you don’t want to answer, or don’t want to talk about, that’s fine. I totally understand. Just tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

“Should I use our safe word?” Brittany smiled, but a moment later it faltered. “Sorry, sorry, old habits.”

“It’s ok.” Santana grinned. “I just want you to be comfortable.”

“Got it. Thank you.”

“Um, so, I’d like to take you out.”

There was a moment that passed between them, and no one said anything.

Santana backpedaled. “I mean, if you and Clark are exclusive, that’s fine. Or if you just don’t want to go.”

“That’s not it, Santana-”

“It’s just that…” Santana took a deep breath. “I came here for you, Britt. I realized how much I’d screwed up, and how much you meant to me, and I just want to show you that. I want you to know. Then you can make your decision. I just want you to know that it’s not because I was lonely, or because I was horny or anything like that, it was because I was looking at my life, and remember how good it felt to have you in it, and how much I took you for granted. So, keep seeing Clark if that’s what you want, but I hope you can find some time for me.”

Brittany was speechless for a moment, and Santana rushed to fill that silence.

“Mercedes asked me what I have to give to you, and I’ve tallied it, for sure, it’s not much. But, I can promise you that even with everything that’s happened, I still love you with my whole heart, Britt. I just need to prove it to you. Let me take you out tonight.”

There was no hesitation this time.

“Ok, Santana. Let’s go out.”

The smile that spread on Santana’s face assured Brittany she’d made the right decision.

“Really? Awesome!” She did a little dance, but caught herself, and smoothed her pants. “Get your coat. I hijacked Rachel’s car. It’s not like she uses it anyway, she’s always getting driven around-”

“We’re going now? And you’re wearing that? Don’t get me wrong. I love you in your overalls. It’s the only time you look like you’re going down to Home Depot later to pick up some wood for the deck your building.”

Santana looked down at her clothes. “Well, yeah, I guess I’m a little dressed down, but it’s perfect for tonight.”

“Well, good. Where are we going?”

Santana smiled slyly, waggling her eyebrows. “Trust me.”

…

“Green Valley Mall?”

Brittany looked out the window as Santana pulled into a parking lot. Her response was more awe than anything, she didn’t know the place was still standing.

“Yep. Remember, we used to come over here when we were broke and try on clothes and eat junk food?”

“We’d finish class and catch the subway all the way out to Long Island.” Brittany laughed. “We were so poor.”

“I figured this was low stakes. Anyway, if you get tired and want to go home, I can drop you off.” Santana jiggled the keys. “Sound good?”

“I think I can handle that.”

Brittany’s phone chirped in her pocket, and Santana tried not to notice how she took the phone out of her pocket, slid it into silent mode, and put it back.

This is a fic that will update everyday until Valentine’s Day 2017. To truly enjoy please put on (Sweet Sweet Baby) Since You’ve Been Gone by Aretha Franklin. :P

FF.net link and Ao3 link.

[adventuresaroundasia]

Pin me for later!

Some of you may have noticed I haven’t done the Freedom Life monthly recaps for these last few months. To be honest, I don’t have much of an excuse for why I’ve taken some time off except for that sometimes you need a little bit of a break. With everything that’s been happening this year in regards to my blog, business, and Coronavirus, I think you’ll understand why I needed to take a little time away.

While I plan to start my monthly recaps back up soon, I wanted to let you know what I’ve been up to these last few months and shed a little light on where I’ve been… physically, mentally, and financially.

Welcome to Tbilisi Old Town!

I Moved to Tbilisi Georgia (The Country)

If you didn’t already know, I moved to Tbilisi, Georgia (aka the country of Georgia) at the end of January. While this deserves a whole post in and of itself, the gist is that Chris and I had a wedding to attend in the UK at the end of December, and a ton of US weddings this summer (none of which are happening now, of course).

We needed a place in Europe to stay for four months while we waited in limbo, and Tbilisi seemed like the perfect city. Tbilisi is beautiful, affordable, full of history, has great food and wine, and our blogger friends Tommo and Megsy from Food Fun Travel live here. Not to mention, you can stay in Georgia visa-free for up to a year!

So after spending a few weeks visiting friends in the UK, and a few days traveling in Italy, Chris and I moved to Tbilisi and found a cute 1-bedroom apartment in the Vake neighborhood.

Chris and I ate amazing Georgian food and stayed out drinking liters of house wine with friends until 1 am. We explored Tbilisi’s old town and relaxed in the traditional sulfur baths. The two of us made a ton of friends in a short amount of time and even had the audacity to complain about the number of social events we were invited to. We even took a few weekend trips to go wine tasting in Kakheti, and enjoy the snow in Gudauri.

Coronavirus Shut Down China

At the beginning of 2020 during the Chinese New Year holiday, I started to hear some concerns over a new virus in China. I run a free Facebook group for people who teach abroad in China (or want to teach in China), and slowly but surely I started to see more and more posts about concerns over the new Coronavirus.

My Free Facebook Group Blew Up

At that point, most of us thought it was just a very bad flu, and many people decided to wait it out in China. When Wuhan went on lockdown, people started to book flights home or extend their Chinese New Year trips abroad. There was so much confusion and concern, and I felt responsible for managing the emotions and information in the group.

I spent hours every day researching, watching videos, reading articles on both ends of the spectrum, from “it’s no big deal” to “people are dying in the streets and the government is building the new Wuhan hospital as a death prison!!”

The group has over 500 people and is managed exclusively by me, so let me tell you, this was a full-time job in and of itself trying to manage the flow of information and emotions. Thankfully the members still in China were very helpful in providing on-the-ground information and practical advice which really helped alleviate some of the panic.

Working With My Teach Abroad Squad Members

Not only that, but some of the members of my Teach Abroad Squad program started having major issues too! This is a paid program for people who really want to work with me privately to have an incredible experience in China the FIRST time around. However, COVID-19 was something that I never could’ve anticipated, and I was honestly at a loss for what to do.

I had one member who was sitting in Thailand while all of her stuff (including her laptop!) was stuck in China. She eventually flew home to Hawaii, and it’s been months since she’s seen her computer or the majority of her wardrobe. I had another member who was literally about to fly to China in a few days when he was told not to come anymore. He was then stuck at home in the US with no job and no timeline for when he can eventually arrive in China.

I know it’s not my personal fault that the members of my program were suffering, but for some reason, I felt like it was. I honestly felt like it was my responsibility to protect them and make sure they have the adventure of a lifetime, and I felt horribly guilty when COVID-19 crushed their dreams and plans.

It took a lot of talks with my group coaching program for female entrepreneurs to get over my issues sounding this and to be honest, I still take it all waaaay too personally.

Let me drown my sorrows in a liter of Georgian house wine…

I Felt So Alone

Honestly, the worst part of all of this was that I felt so alone because I was the only one in my immediate social circle that was dealing with this catastrophe. Then, of course, I felt super guilty for feeling that way, when people were suffering all over China.

Because Coronavirus was only really affecting China and a few surrounding countries, in my immediate circle of Tbilisi expats, travel bloggers, and friends back home in the US and Australia, it felt like I was the only one struggling with how the virus was impacting my business and life. It was almost like some weird joke. “Oh… you work with China? That must suck.” Yeah, it sucked.

I honestly felt like a leper. I had hordes of people unsubscribing every time I sent an email about China (even helpful ones about Coronavirus!). I offered free 20-minute calls with me to work through any issues people were facing when it came to COVID-19 and barely anyone took me up on them. Seriously?? Don’t you guys need help??!

Then I got in my head that no one wanted to hear from me, and people didn’t trust me as an expert that could help them because I wasn’t in China. The imposter syndrome is REAL people.

Not only that, but I started having weekly panic attacks and days of full-on depression where I couldn’t even get out of bed. The career I’d spent YEARS building for myself came crashing down all around me, and without my job, I just felt useless.

Well… that’s unfortunate

Coronavirus Destroyed the Travel Industry

Slowly but surely, the panic spread from China to the rest of the world. People started canceling their international trips, and travel bloggers began to panic. My husband Chris sells safaris in Africa, and while Africa had zero cases at the time, people started canceling and postponing their trips left and right because they were worried their international flights would be canceled without a refund.

Almost overnight Chris and I had ZERO income. Chris went from piles of inquiries on a daily basis to waking up with an empty inbox. While my income has been a bit sporadic since I quit my high-paid college counseling job in China, Chris’ consistent safari income made up for this. But with zero money coming in, we both started to worry. Summer is high season in Tanzania, and we’d been counting on a year’s worth of sales commissions to come in at this time.

On top of all of this my blog traffic halved, my affiliate commissions dried up and sponsored posts and brands I had already done the work for all of a sudden just stopped responding to my emails when I asked for payment. Cool.

I started applying to all the decent online jobs I could find. From social media manager positions to working as an online dating coach (yeah that happened). I even considered teaching English online, but I honestly couldn’t go back to teaching basic ESL online for a fraction of what I used to make on-the-ground in China.

Well, after a solid week of applying to positions, I ended up getting offered a job to manage Facebook for my business coach. While it wasn’t much of an income, it was better than nothing, and something I actually enjoyed doing.

No more wine tasting and dinners out with friends…

COVID-19 Shut Down the World

Slowly but surely Coronavirus spread to the rest of the world. My home state of Washington was a mess, Northern Italy (a place I had just visited earlier that year) was on complete lockdown, and Georgians started canceling events as more of us opted to stay indoors.

As the weeks went by, things started to get more and more serious. Georgia closed the airports, no one from outside Tbilisi was allowed in, all the shops and restaurants closed (except for grocery stores and food delivery), and we all waited patiently inside our homes.

AHHH!

Wait… Isn’t This Old News?

Once the rest of the world started panicking about COVID-19, it felt strange. I’d been an anxious mess for MONTHS and now the rest of the world was finally catching on. I joked with my course members and China friends that it felt like old news to us. We’d been dealing with Coronavirus for what felt like an eternity!

In a horrible way, it was a bit reassuring to feel like I wasn’t alone in my panic anymore. As much as I hated how the virus was spreading, it was somewhat nice (in an awful way) that I had friends and family to commiserate with. Then, of course, I felt like an absolutely horrible human for feeling relieved that I wasn’t alone in this.

Celebrating my 29th birthday in lockdown

Why We Decided to Stay in Georgia

Eventually, Chris and I had to make a decision: would we stay in Tbilisi or head to the US or Australia? This was actually a huge dilemma for a few reasons.

Firstly, Chris and I planned to be in the US over the summer because we had three weddings to attend (one of which was our second wedding in my parents’ backyard). Now, Chirs doesn’t have a Green Card, so the plan was to head to the US in mid-May and stay until the end of July, hop down to Mexico for a bit, and return in October. So, flying to the US early just didn’t make sense considering we’d have to consistently fly in and out for Chris’ visa. Obviously, that’s not ideal during a pandemic.

Another option was to stay with Chris’ family in rural Australia, which was a much safer option than the West Coast of the US. However, flights were going to be at least $1,000 each with multiple layovers. Plus, if things did clear up, we’d need to spend a ton of money getting to the US for all of the wedding festivities.

It just seemed like the most practical and economical option was to stay in Tbilisi. Georgia had far fewer cases and deaths than both Australia and the UK (we didn’t have our first death until waaay into the pandemic). Our stores were fully stocked with toilet paper, people were actually staying home, and the government seemed to be taking everything very seriously.

It was kind of nice to have no cars on the road

What It’s Like in Tbilisi Right Now

If you follow me on Facebook, you’ll probably notice I’ve been doing Facebook lives every few days to talk about what life is like in Tbilisi right now (among other things). But as of right now, all of the shops are closed except for grocery stores. Thankfully we have a small Europroduct grocer right below us, and a fruit and vegetable shop down the block. We also have a man who delivers meat for us to cook with!

In addition to grocery stores, food delivery is available, but you need to order very early. Tbilisi has a curfew that runs from 9 pm to 6 am, however most of the restaurants close their food delivery after 6:30 pm!

All shops and pharmacies have a mask policy, and you’re not allowed inside without one. They also have limits on the number of people allowed inside at any given time. For example, my local pharmacy (which is also the only place to buy shampoo, lotion, and body wash) only allows two people in at a time, so the few times we’ve had to go this usually involves a 20-30 minute wait.

For the most part, Tbilisi has been doing a great job, except for one aspect: the church. We recently celebrated Georgian Orthodox Easter, and unfortunately for us, the churches blatantly refused to close. Since the Georgian government was unable to stand up to the church, they ended up BANNING CARS for over a week! I have no idea why they thought this would help considering there’s a church on every block, but that’s what they did.

Overall, it was actually very peaceful to be able to walk around the block through the deserted streets. The only downside was that the fruit and vegetable shop closed during this time, and the meat man couldn’t deliver, making it difficult to cook. As the government kept extending the car ban, we started to get worried, but thankfully that’s all finished now!

This is my view all day every day

Turning into a Workaholic

As everyone started joking about having nothing to do, I was working harder than ever! I kept doing all of my regular blogging tasks, running my Teach Abroad Squad course, and social media. But in addition, I was also providing tons of extra content and support.

Emergency coaching sessions, daily Facebook Lives, interviews with recruiters still in China, supporting both my Facebook groups, and more! I also took on two different social media jobs, did a launch for Teach Abroad Squad (with free strategy calls), and got extremely involved in my women’s entrepreneur group coaching program, which was also offering additional training and resources.

I felt like I was working harder than I’d ever worked while making a fraction of the income. I was beyond stressed, started having problems with my jaw from grinding my teeth in my sleep, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t turn it off!

My husband Chris encouraged me to just take this time to relax, but I kept getting swept up in all the hype. Take this extra time to work on your business! Now is a time for leaders to step up! People still want your online products, you just need to pivot and be essential!

If I couldn’t make it work during Coronavirus, what does that say about me? I just need to work harder and everything will be okay!!! Yeah, that’s a healthy way to live your life Richelle…

Well… that’s awkward

So… I Guess I’m a Leper Now?

To be honest, for most of 2020 I’ve felt like a leper. I send an email and get heaps of unsubscribes. I offered free coaching and had barely any people take me up on it. It felt like every time I opened my mouth, people just wanted me to shut it.

I tired so hard to be helpful, and it seemed like the world just wasn’t interested. I even created a free webinar called “So you wanted to teach in China… Now What?” to help people through this time. But when I went to promote it on Facebook, I started getting angry faces and mean comments. Seriously? I’m just trying to help!

It got to the point where I just wanted to stick my head in the sand or run away and hide. I was tired of feeling like I was talking to a void. I didn’t want to do my webinar, Facebook lives, write blog posts, or send emails. But my business coach kept pushing me to be present and show up. UGH.

I guess my fear of disappointing her outweighed my fear of embarrassing myself… barely.

My latest webinar training!

Turning Lemons into Lemonade

A few days before my live webinar training, I started to panic. What am I doing?? Why did I think this was a good idea???

I wanted to run away and hide. I felt awkward promoting my paid program at a time like this. I knew I could really help people with Teach Abroad Squad, but man, I felt weird charging for ANYTHING when so many people around the world are suffering and in need of help.

But I showed up and did the webinar launch anyway, and I’m so glad I did. Not only was the training really fun and interactive (so much participation in the chat!), it ended up going for an extra HOUR. Whoopsies!

Not only that, but we had some incredible new people join Teach Abroad Squad, which was really exciting!

Through this experience, I realized that pulling back was helping literally no one. Sure, not everyone wants to hear me talk right now, but there are some people that need my help and advice, especially during a time like this. The whole experience was really strangely empowering and made me feel like all the time, effort, and anxiety was worth it in the end.

bread on the balcony!

Georgian bread and mountain cheese!

The Things Keeping Me Sane Right Now

After the last few months of overworking and my live teach abroad training, I’ve been super exhausted lately. I’ve been working on this post for literally two weeks, but I haven’t had the energy to actually sit down and finish it. All of the stress has finally caught up with me, and all I want to do is sleep, relax, and have fun. It’s funny how weeks of chronic stress will really do a number on you.

Thankfully there are a few things I’ve been doing to make my life sane, so I figured I’d share them with all of you. Firstly, while I do live in a tiny apartment, I’m lucky to have a balcony that gets a lot of sun. So when the weather is nice, I sit out on the balcony with a cup of coffee and a good book (I’m reading the Wheel of Time series right now) and get some sun and fresh air.

I’ve also started doing Yoga With Adrienne every morning for the last few months. Not only is it a great way to get some exercise, but yoga also helped me a ton with my stress and anxiety. With the focus on breathing, plus the difficulty of the poses, there isn’t much room left in my mind for stress and worry. Not only do I feel great and healthy afterward, but I also feel so much more relaxed and calm!

In the evenings I’ve been relaxing by playing a ton of Animal Crossing (which Chris just got me for my birthday!) or playing online games of D&D, otherwise known as Dungeons and Dragons. Yes, I am a hugely unapologetic nerd. I went from playing once every other week, to playing 2-3 times a week! It’s a great way to actually have a social life while taking your mind off of everything that’s happening in the world right now.

All three of us were supposed to have weddings this summer…

My Plans for the Future

Well, the plan was to head back to the US for a bunch of weddings, bachelorette parties, and showers, but one by one all of them keep getting canceled.

Until all three of us (in the last few days) decided to cancel our weddings and related events, I had no idea how much stress and anxiety this summer was causing me. Would I even be able to make it home for the end of July even if things cleared up? Would there be a resurgence of COVID in October for my friend’s wedding (which I’m a bridesmaid for)? Even if things clear up, are plane tickets still going to be over $1,000 with multiple layovers? Will the Georgian airports even open in July as promised??

Well, now that everything is canceled, I feel like a giant weight has been taken off my chest. There’s no constant stressing, checking flights, and hours on hours spent discussing possibilities. For now, we can just stay in Tbilisi until this all blows over…

Pin me for later!

How Have Your Plans Changed?

I’d love to hear from you: How have your plans changed this year? Are you stuck abroad like me? Were you supposed to be moving abroad or traveling during this time? Have you lost your source of income? Tell me what’s happening with you in a comment below!

What I’ve Been Up To This 2020: Coronavirus, Money Woes, and Getting Stuck Abroad Some of you may have noticed I haven't done the Freedom Life monthly recaps for these last few months.

[ouraidengray4]

Is Your Workplace Toxic or Does It Just Suck?

Most people have to deal with a crappy job at some point in their lives—as a person who once dressed as a banana to hand out Jamba Juice samples, I can attest to this. But how can you tell when a job goes from run-of-the-mill bad to a toxic influence on your life? To suss out the bad jobs from the truly detrimental, I interviewed mental health experts to get their advice on how to tell when a job is just too awful and what to do if you're stuck in a toxic position.

When I throw around the word "toxic," I really mean it. A study published in the International Journal of Epidemiology surveyed unemployed people and found that those in a hostile work environment had higher stress levels than people who remained unemployed. And this wasn't just "I'm-feeling-kind-of-stressed" symptoms: The bloodwork of people at crappy jobs was noticeably less healthy than their already-stressed, not currently employed friends. Being in a toxic job can genuinely do mental and physical damage. So it's important to know the signs so you can get yourself out of a bad situation.

When Work Doesn't Stay at Work

"You can tell a workplace simply sucks when the problems are contained around the work itself but do not permeate beyond that. A workplace crosses the line into 'toxic' when it impacts you internally and personally," says Julie Gurner, Psy.D. It's one thing to have a lot to do or some people in the company that annoy you. But when you can't shake the negativity of the day or when your self-esteem and worth are diminished by your job, that's when you slide into toxic territory.

Licensed social worker Laura MacLeod recommends you really examine how you feel when you think about going to work the next day. "If you feel kind of lethargic, not particularly motivated, or that it would be nice to call in sick—this is a job you're not crazy about," MacLeod says. "If you feel anxious, irritable, deeply depressed, panicked, get cold sweats—this is toxic." And if those anxious, negative thoughts keep popping up long after 5 p.m., it's likely that your workplace is having an adverse effect on your life.

When You Can't See the Positive

If you have a job that's just kind of crappy, you might be able to pick out one or two positive aspects. Yes, the cubicle mate who shows you a different unfunny Youtube video every five minutes might make it hard to look on the bright side. But usually, when a job is merely sucky, you can find one good thing about it. "See if you can spend more time on that aspect of the work and remember to hang onto it when things get ugly," McLeod says. "Find and connect with coworkers you trust and brainstorm to make things more tolerable. Having someone to listen and empathize goes a long way."

Sometimes, you really can't think of a single good thing about your job—or the minimal positives don't outweigh the many negatives. A study from Michigan State University found that negativity in the workplace spreads like wildfire. Meaning that one toxic person or ongoing toxic comments make other workers act poorly toward one another, and, in the end, you have a bunch of unhappy people being crappy to one another. This leads to lowered productivity, poor morale, and an increase in mental fatigue, according to the study. So, if you can't think of a single nice thing, you're likely stuck in a "cycle of incivility," which is very hard to stop.

EDITOR'S PICK

When You're Not Appreciated

To me, few things are as grating as putting in tons of work and getting zero credit. Though everyone will probably get overlooked from time to time at the office, a toxic job will undermine or undervalue your efforts at every turn.

If you're working insane hours without the possibility of a promotion or compensation, or if your superiors never positively acknowledge your work, your mental health will start to suffer, according to therapist Katie Krimer, MA, LCSW. "Without an appropriate amount of validation and praise—and even sometimes just an influx of criticism—your morale can really be damaged. This invites you to eventually hate your job," Krimer says.

It's so important to feel like your work matters. Though no one expects to get a trophy and a gift card to Sephora every time they do something good, it's perfectly understandable to be unhappy when there's no positive feedback. "If you don't feel valued, it's time to find ways to advocate for yourself and make sure that you get the acknowledgment you deserve," Krimer says.

Sometimes, communicating your feelings can make the workplace better. Perhaps a boss didn't realize they were being so negative, and now that they're aware, they have a chance to change their behavior. But if you feel unsafe sharing your feelings, have a boss who has ignored your previous requests, or know the whole office is full of unchanging negativity, you're probably in a toxic place that you'll eventually need to leave.

Toxic Workplace Checklist

If you're still not sure if your job has crossed over into the territory of my all-time-favorite Britney Spears song, Chrissy Macken, a career coach with a specialization in toxic workplaces, asks her clients these questions:

Have you excused yourself from a meeting because you were so angry or frustrated?

Do you dread the idea of staying in your job for another year?

Do you feel like your manager doubts your ability to make smart decisions about your work?

Are you assigned tasks from multiple supervisors with little or no regard for the work already given to you?

Is your role constantly changing?

Are you interrupted so often when you sit down to focus on a task that it's almost impossible to get work done?

Do performance reviews feel like an ambush of negative feedback that you've never been clued into?

Are you belittled or yelled at by your manager or colleagues?

Have you cried at work?

If you said yes to three or more of those questions, you're probably in a toxic place, Macken says.

Sometimes, we get so used to a poor workplace that we don't even notice the signs of toxicity all around us. But if you're regularly crying, belittled, or so stressed that you can't focus on anything other than work, then things are officially toxic. Luckily, the experts have many ways to help you deal with and remove yourself from that horrible job.

What to Do About a Toxic Job

Remember It's Not Your Fault

"The most important way to handle a toxic job is to understand you're not the problem—it's a culture issue in which higher-ups enable abusers," says Deb Falzoi, founder of Dignity Together, a group that strives to end workplace bullying. Often, bosses get short-term results from being abusive, so superiors look the other way. Even if you made a mistake at work or had a bad day, you never deserve to be yelled at or abused. Their overreaction is not your fault.

Reminding yourself that you aren't the problem can help get you through the day, Falzoi says. Saying "it's not about me" to yourself may not stop a boss from yelling, but it does help you detach from that potential abuse. Falzoi asserts that this is not a good long-term solution (you can only compartmentalize your feelings for so long before they pop up elsewhere), but it might help for now.

Stop Checking Your Email

Avoiding your inbox may not seem like much of a solution, but it's a good step toward setting up boundaries and leaving work at the office. "Protect your time," Macken says. "Sometimes easier said than done, but do everything you can to limit the hours." She suggests taking a chunk of time in the morning (or whenever you're most productive) to focus on work without checking emails or taking meetings. "Communicate your strategy so others know you're setting healthy boundaries in the spirit of advancing the organization's work."

When you make yourself available at all hours for work, people will sometimes take advantage of that. When you politely, but firmly, let folks at the office know that you won't be catering to their every whim after 5 p.m., your coworkers might respect that, making work much more tolerable. Or, your boss will be a jerk about it and expect you to jump whenever they call. But trying to set boundaries at least gives you a chance at a better workplace.

EDITOR'S PICK

Create a Going-Home Ritual

"One of the hardest aspects of being in a toxic work environment is that the negatives seep into all aspects of your life and also hurt the ones you love. For this reason, I recommend finding ways to be intentional about the transition from work to home," Macken says. She suggests creating a ritual that ends your work day and gets you into personal time mode.

"Perhaps it includes taking five minutes to write a list of open questions and to-do's for the following day that you can leave at the office," Macken says. You could also listen to a special happy playlist on the ride home or take a walk around the block before you step into your house. Just do something soothing for five minutes or more every day before you go home. This way, you get in the habit of relaxing your mind and letting work go, so you can actually enjoy your personal time.

Keep It Out of the Bedroom

If you can't get into the going-home ritual groove, at the very least, keep your work in the living room. "The bedroom is for bedroom things!" Krimer says. "Many of us bring so many things into our bed that hinder our ability to relax and even to sleep." By taking work to bed, you reduce your ability to rest, which makes you tired and more susceptible to all the negativity and stress of the office.

"Commit to never bringing your work into your space of peace—keep your work to one section of your home and don't let it leave that area!" Krimer says. If your job is so overwhelming you can't even keep your bed work-free, then perhaps it's time to make a bigger move.

Make an Escape Plan

"Toxicity is a symptom of a larger cultural problem that you are unlikely to fix on your own," Gurner says. "Your best bet in toxic environments is to bide your time and form an 'escape plan.'" Usually, you can't just up and quit a job, no matter how many times you've fantasized about pulling a Half-Baked and bailing. But you can make the decision to leave and start the process of finding something better.

"Start applying to other jobs now and plan to make a transition," Gurner says. Knowing the job isn't permanent can help you get through bad days while you do what you can to find something new. Yes, it's very hard to leave a job, and it takes work to find a new one. But if you're in a truly toxic place, it's worth it. It's scary, but you can find something better where your days aren't filled with dread.

Amber Petty is an L.A.-based writer and a regular contributor to Greatist. Follow along as she shares her weight-loss journey in her new bi-monthly column, Slim Chance. Take singing lessons from her via Sing A Different Tune and follow her on Instagram @Ambernpetty.

from Greatist RSS https://ift.tt/2A9GfPv Is Your Workplace Toxic or Does It Just Suck? Greatist RSS from HEALTH BUZZ http://bit.ly/2QI0myp