#this took me an embarrassingly long time to post because I deleted it 3 times

[justhere4kpop]

Dude, I Love Fishing

A few days off between comeback stages and your boyfriend wants to go fishing, he's pretty lucky you love him.

pair: Yunho x Reader

w/c: 1.3k

a/n: Just another fluffy Yunho one-shot, also the number of times I accidentally deleted this post while editing is embarrassing, anyways I hope you guys enjoy it!!! Any feedback is appreciated, and any interactions are welcomed and loved! Also ironically the use of a Seventeen song has no correlation with my recent dive into them. Also I definitely did not take or make any of the photos just used them for the header....that I did make....Okay enjoy!!!

tags: @yunbug, @starillusion13

Masterlist

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Comeback season was rough, between recording, rehearsals, outfits and fittings, photoshoots, stage testing, and shooting music videos, promos, teasers, and doing interviews…you could say it’s a full time job. Yeah, comeback season was rough, Comeback season for Ateez? Never stops, with the boys getting bigger and better every comeback it was hard to get them to sit still for even a moment, not that they would, it’s like babysitting hyperactive 3 year olds who just got told it was nap time but they “don’t need a nap they can stay up forever.” but probably less spit and more “you’re not the boss of me.”

“Wooyoung in this moment I very much AM the boss of you.” I groaned trying to get him to stop so I could hear the directions the GPS was taking us. “Do you want to get lost?!”

“We’re in Seoul! We can’t possibly get lost!” he threw his hands up in the air.

“And you know Seoul well enough that if I turn off this GPS you can get us there On Time?” I raised my eyebrow and he looked out the window. “That’s what I thought.”

“I can-!” he started

“Wooyoung-ah, please don’t torture my poor girl, I do that enough at home.” Yunho spoke up from the middle row.

“EWWWW!” came a chorus of voices.

“Not like that!!!!” he waved his hands in front of his face.

“Even I knew that one was coming Yu.” I sighed now on the receiving end of questions of my personal life.

His torture by the way is the sweaty hugs after dance practice before he showers because he just can’t wait that long to hug me, the way he lays on top of me while watching tv or a movie and I mean FULL BODY WEIGHT almost like that scene from Disney’s Lilo and Stitch where Nani goes “Oh no gravity is increasing on me!” only he does it because it’s “much more comfortable”, the endless times he’s had me read the Spider Man comics to him because he likes the character voices I make, not to mention we’ve seen every version a few times. He’s decided to cook dinner a few times only he’s wanted to experiment and try things without a recipe, which is fine, but it’s always stuff he’s never tried making before, last time he mixed up sugar and salt….again….Yeah, I would say he puts me through a few trials at home….I wouldn’t change them, in fact I kind of miss it when he’s away on tour and I’m stuck back home. 

“y/n!?” Yunho called out from the kitchen. Here comes the soup popsicles again…

“Yeah?” I sighed and put down my book.

“We should take a trip!” he announced coming into the room. “Why are you closing your eyes with your hand out?”

“Huh? Oh uh….nothing. A trip? What kind?”

“Let’s go to the lake! We can go fishing! Bring the guys along and everything!”

“Fishing? Yunho you know I don’t like fishing, it’s…hard (weird)”

“Oh come on Jagiya, pleaseeeee, it’ll be like a beach trip or something, water, swimsuits, picnic!”

I sighed. “Fine.”

It was in fact, NOT like the beach, I’m covered head to toe in waterproof clothing, the most shapeless pair of waterproof overalls or waders, wellingtons, a vest with way too mant pockets, a floppy hat, and a waterproof shirt…oh and a life vest.

“You look beautiful” he smiled, I took a photo as he put on his life vest.

“You look ridiculous.” I chuckled at his outfit, it was normal…save for the Spider-man life jacket that was too small…

~~~~

“Yunho that’s for kids…” I said as we browsed our local Department Store.

“Nuh uh!!” he shook his head and smiled. “It says 5 plus y/n! I’m plus! I’m over 5!”

“I’m starting to doubt that.” I mumbled as I put it in the cart.

“Aw no way!!! Jagiya!” he called from behind me.

I turned and nearly fell over laughing, he found a pair of wayyyy too small goggles as well, he looked like one of those watermelons with rubber bands stretched around it until they burst.

“Yu, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you get those.” I snorted…never did that in my last relationship. 

~~~~~

“Well good thing I don’t have to impress anyone then hmm?” he gave me that face. “Come on I’ll catch the best fish for us to eat tonight.”

“We could’ve just gone to the store.”

“But this way it’s a date.”

“Grocery shopping is a date.”

“Okay fine you got me there.” he smiled. “But it’s nice to get some fresh air during comeback season!”

“Yu….it smells like mud…”

“Earth! I love it!” he smiled. “Come on I figure we can try the boat first.”

How did I let him talk me into this?

“Yunho?”

“Hmm?” he turned towards me.

“How much longer are we going to be out here?” I looked at him. “We’ve been out here for hours already.”

“Until you catch one too.”

“I’m fine not catching one.” I chuckled. He’s caught 5…who knew he was so good at it.

“Maybe if you don’t catch one in an hour.”

“Okay, fair enough.”

We waited…he started humming….it sounds kind of familiar.

“생각처럼 쉬운 게 없네요

매일 생각해요 난 어떻게 해야 할지

도착했다 싶을 때, 다시 시작이네요

앞이 깜깜할 때도” Yunho hummed softly.

“Whatcha singing?” I looked at him.

“Just something stuck in my head.” he smiled. 

“소용돌이치는 하루 속에

사소한 행복을 나에게 줘서

비어 있는 내 두 손에

세상의 모든 미소를 쥐여줘서”

“Seventeen?” I raised an eyebrow as he got louder.

He started swaying a little.

“Yunho be careful, you’re rocking the boat.” I looked at him….it was too late.

“소용돌이치는 하루 속에

사소한 행복을 나에게 줘서

비어 있는 내 두 손에

세상의 모든 미소를 쥐여줘서

가파른 길에 숨이 찰 때도

추운 날 길 잃은 때도

따듯한 온기와 함께 손을 내밀어주는!!!” he exclaimed standing up and what do you know the boat tipped over. “YUNHO!”

I broke the surface of the water.

“You owe me a new phone.” I looked at him after we swam back to the shore with the boat.

“Gladly.” he smiled and wrapped a towel around me still humming.

“You’re lucky I love you.” I huffed.

“I’m very lucky indeed.” he kissed my cheek but grimaced at the taste left on his lips.

“Yeah let me guess I taste how the lake smells?”

“No no just a piece of algae in my mouth…”

“I don’t believe you.” I sighed and we made our way to go get cleaned up and the boathouse.

“You know what they say, shower together and save water.”

“Are you seriously horny after tipping the boat over into a fish pond…and there’s mud in my hair?”

“What can I say…the mud really adds texture.” he chuckled.

“New phone and a new boyfriend.” I nudged him.

“Awwwwww come on.”

After I took my shower…alone. We sat on the deck to eat the lunch/dinner we brought along. I didn’t catch a single fish, I got knocked out of the boat and I lost my phone….

“You didn’t catch a fish but you caught one thing?”

“....yeah?” I looked at him knowing it was going to be bad.

“This boot!” he held up the waterlogged boot I got before he knocked us over dancing.

“I totally thought you were going to say ‘My Heart’” I laughed a little.

“Nah, you caught that a long time ago.” he smiled and pushed my wet hair behind my ear.

“You’re so annoying Jeong Yunho.”

“And you are the light of my life l/n f/n……D.I.L.F��� he spelled out.

I spit. “What!?”

“Dude I Love Fishing!” he smiled and looked at me.

“Yunho! That’s not what that means!!!!” I laughed and hit his arm.

As we walked back to the car Yunho held up the boot again.

“Should we-”

“No we are not keeping the boot.” I chuckled. “We can get matching phone cases this time.”

“Well I am keeping you, so I guess I win.” he smiled. “Can I pick out the phone case?”

“Fine…you win.”

I am never going fishing again.

[wooteena]

technoblade speedrunning adopting ranboo (high school edition): the fanfic

also on ao3!

hey remember this post? well i got so attatched and impatient that i wrote over 1k words for a pilot type chapter for it <3

chapter one: officer in my defense i punched that guy because he deserves it

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Techno Blade-Minecraft would call himself smart. He got good grades without trying, learned second, then third languages with ease, read textbooks for fun, etcetera etcetera. Wisdom without experience was a rare thing to possess, especially in a high school senior but techno had it tight in his grasp, easily making him a ‘Model Student’. He understood he got unneeded attention from that, which sucked, but it was an easy trade-off to be the automatic teacher’s favourite.

But Techno was a man of wisdom, not a man of sense. So naturally, he remembered a fact about baby birds he learnt when he was six years old:

‘Classical "imprinting", as seen with for example, ducks or geese, means that the animal's instinctive programming says "the first big animal you see after hatching is your mom, follow them and look to her for food, warmth, love and learning’

Actually, Techno decided he was the man of Most Sense because at that very moment, the tallest, yet somehow weakest looking freshmen he’d ever seen was being cornered by a group of hefty looking seniors.

And the baby bird, with its innocent, scared eyes was looking right at him.

He looked around the hallway, a desperate scan for other students he could push his growing parental responsibility on to. It was a ghost town, as empty as the remakes of towns from the old west he saw on childhood school excursions.

‘Fuuuuuuuuuuck.’

Technoblade took a deep breath in through his nose, then released it out of his mouth like if he breathed hard enough, his empathy could be taken away with the non existent wind in the soul-crushing grey hallways. It obviously didn’t work because Jesus Christ that kid looked helpless.

As quickly as one could without compromising a freshmen’s still intact nose, Techno examined the seniors. They all wore the school football team’s letterman jacket (‘what is this, Heathers?’), a classic pointer for internalized insecurity, toxic masculinity and most importantly unrightfully self diagnosed Strong Guy syndrome, which meant that they definitely were only beating up a freshmen because that was the most they could actually fight. One point to Technoblade. They also were all at least a solid five inches shorter than him, which Techno would have laughed at if the situation wasn’t so dire. Point two for Technoblade.

Catching himself before letting his wandering mind think up a full five paragraph M.L.A sighted essay to why he could crush these nerds, he decided that two points was enough leverage to still crush these nerds, but with slightly less confidence.

With as much patience as he could, he slowly walked up to the group like a silent lion hunting his soon to be, very dead* (maybe not dead, *slightly bruised) prey. The baby bird, trapped in one of his prey’s chokehold, stared at him like he was a madman. Techno’s objective changed: knock out the dickhead choking a kid.

They stood in a corner, the choker in the middle, the other two blocking off the only escapes and laughing cruelly at the baby bird. Completely distracted.

Techno curled his fist, aiming to punch that asshole’s teeth in or at least break his nose. He starts to run, about five feet away from his target and oh god this is a terrible idea he does fencing not hand to ha-

BAM.

Choker’s nose made a resounding crack and fell back onto the jock on the left. Probably because it’d be ‘too gay’, or whatever, the guy sidesteps and lets a knocked out, nose broken, probably popular kid by comparing his ego to the size of his dick, fall onto the ground

The two awake bullies look between their knocked out friend, then at Techno, then at each other.

“MISS NIIIIHACHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!”

Techno knew they’d call a teacher because they’re cowards but really? Nihachu?

That lady is TERRIFYING what did he do to deserve this.

He let out a long, disappointed ‘bruh’ before with a jolt, remembering the whole reason he punched that jock in the first.

The child.

He doesn’t bother trying to pick up him up because holy hell he’s tall, but pulls one of the kid’s arms over his shoulder, and with his other arm holds their waist and sprints as fast as he can down the hall.

“What the…” murmurs the half dead lump on his back, and while Techno’s surprised his vocal chords aren’t dead? Not even a ‘thank you’? Techno thinks he should start doing charity work at this point.

He continues to run though, because he’s a generous soul, until slowing to open a door that opens the blinding sunlight of the free world outside their prison.

Despite himself, Techno lets his mouth slip into a big enough smile that actually shows his teeth because he just did that. His celebratory moment is cut off though, because the weight on his back suddenly felt even heavier and-

Oh my God the baby bird just fell asleep on me.

Am I a father now?

What do I tell Phil? Does this make him a grandfather?

I can’t just take him home.

What’s stopping you?

Oh my God, I’m a genius.

Techno may be a proclaimed genius, but he is not immune to the inherent propaganda of cute children, so he sets down the kid on the least grimey part of a battered metal bench to get his first proper look at the sleeping giant.

Apart from his injuries (a bleeding nose, bruises forming on his arms, a black eye and a red handprint on his neck) the kid looked… Weird. Techno had subconsciously noticed it while carrying him, but only now the complete oddity of him. His skin from the jaw down was a uniform, warm, dark brown, which was decidedly normal, but his face was… different. Not ugly, no, he looked average, if not perpetually awkward, even in his sleep. The right side of his face was a similar, if not slightly darker tone than the rest of his skin, but where it got weird weird was from the middle of his face and leftward, his face was pale. As pale as Techno, which is saying something because Techno himself has albinism; he has no melanin in his skin.

He found himself sympathizing for the kid again. Techno himself got bullied for his reddish eyes - a symptom of his albinism, and his naturally stark-white skin and hair. It got to the point that he dyed his hair pink, which decidedly made it worse because a guy dying his hair pink ? apparently high school treason to both students and the school rules. His bullies had a colourful range of insults, at least; Techno’s personal favourites being from after he died his hair: homophobic slurs. The teachers had constant complaints and even a couple suspensions, which didn’t stop Techno, obviously. What a wonder public school is.

So yes, Techno understood the baby bird, because despite Techno’s only weakness being himself (and apparently non-threatening freshmen?) as of now, it wasn’t like he came out of the womb a scary pink haired senior. He knew bullying like the hair dye aisle at his local department store.

He knew that helping the kid would make him more attached to the point of no return, but he’d accepted it. It felt like feeding a wild animal more food after making the mistake the first time, it’s not like it’ll get less annoying to have it following you around.

The moment Techno processed his own thought, his face blanched - somehow getting whiter despite literally being the textbook definition of a white boy.

He’d fallen into the ‘senior adopting a defenseless freshmen’ trap.

Shit.

Even more embarrassingly, this didn't deter Techno from pulling his first aid kit, for once his anxious over-packing doing some good.

-

acording to tumblr statistics, only a small percentage of people who like the post actually reblog it. so if you liked it, give it a reblog! it takes five seconds and you can always delete the reblog later.

[chaoticowlpost]

yall, when I tell you that the forces of nature did not want me to post this, fr. First, it gets deleted when my laptop randomly restarted, and then I accidentally press “answer privately” when it wasn’t finished BHDJFS 

In light of those events, I sincerely apologize to @swagfictonreadingnerd not only losing your ask, but flooding your messages in panic jhbfsjbfjjsd it’s quite embarrassing, especially when I realized that there was a (not as updated) copy saved on wordcounter.net, but I hope you like it <3

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

“Stay with me?”

Draco only came up to the Gryffindor tower because he had lent Harry his notes, and the only reason he agreed to enter this time was because he said he’d probably have to wait a while, alone outside, since they were probably buried under piles of stuff in his dorm.

However, as Harry was handing him the notes when he reached the bottom of the staircase in the Gryffindor common room, he took hold of Draco’s hand, brushing his thumb over the webbed skin connecting his thumb and forefinger.

“In here?” Draco clarified, eyes scanning the room. Various students from different years were still milling about the common room despite the fact that lunch had just ended and it was a weekend.

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed with a small nod. He leaned his shoulder against the wall, tugging Draco closer to him before wrapping an arm around his waist. “It beats studying in those uncomfortably library chairs.”

He had a point, Draco conceded.

“Why can’t we do it in your room?” Draco asked, keenly aware of the attention they were drawing. It was no secret that they were together, but it seems that the novelty has yet to ware off on many of the students.

“Do you really want to hear Dean and Seamus going at it?” Harry asked with a small smirk, which only widened when Draco visibly shuddered.

“Is that why you didn’t take as long as I was expecting?” he asked, feeling both amused and disturbed.

“They forgot their silencing charm,” Harry shrugged, nodding.

“We could always go down to Slytherin,” Draco offered, somewhat hopefully. “It’s most likely empty in my room.”

Despite the fact that they were whispering, their words still felt loud to Draco, even though he couldn’t properly make out what they were saying. He was just able to catch their names every now and then.

“But we’re already here,” Harry practically whinged, his thumb brushing softly over Draco’s hip. “It won’t be so bad, I promise.”

Without waiting to hear his response, he began leading them towards one of the empty sofas that were surrounding the hearth, weaving through the wide-eyed students that were still staring at the pair.

Unceremoniously, he flopped down on the sofa, spreading himself into a more comfortable position. Harry looked at him expectantly, watching as Draco fiddled with the corner of his parchments awkwardly.

He gave him an amused smile before reaching out to grab him by the wrist before pulling him towards the sofa, making him stumble and trip, landing embarrassingly on top of him with a soft grunt.

“I hate you,” Draco grumbled, trying to move so that he wouldn’t be sprawled on top of his boyfriend.

“Just give me a second,” Harry laughed, his chest rumbling from beneath him. He began shifting around, guiding Draco and himself into a more comfortable position where he was on his side, against the backrest, while holding Draco in front of him.

Draco reached down for his abandoned bag and fished for one of the books he brought with him from their quick stop to the library. He used it to try and hide his face from those who were, undoubtedly, staring at them.

“I still say we should have gone to my room,” Draco said softly, eyes set on the text, but not quite processing what it says.

“Relax,” Harry whispered, slithering an arm around his waist and pulling him closer to his chest. “I’ll let you study in peace, if it helps.”

“It most certainly does not,” Draco responded haughtily, earning himself a laugh from Harry. It didn’t, because suddenly Harry’s fingers were playing with his hair, and that was all he could focus on after that.

He didn’t respond after that, except for a small hmph, and tried to force himself to digest the contents of his book. He wasn’t about to let his grades drop because Harry wanted to cuddle. In public, no less.

Except, maybe he’d consider, because Harry was peppering soft kisses behind his ear, slowly moving up towards the top of his head while his fingers continued twirling a lock of hair between them.

“Stop that,” Draco protested halfheartedly. It felt quite nice, actually, despite the heating of his face.

“Why?” Harry murmured into the base of his neck. Draco felt him grin against his sin before propping himself on his elbow to lean over and place a kiss on Draco’s cheek.

“You’re making people stare,” Draco hisses, not wanting to be heard. He was pretty sure he heard some 4th Years giggle, though.

“Then stop paying attention to them,” Harry hummed. “Let them stare. You’re my boyfriend, so they ought to get used to it.”

Boyfriend.

The fluttering of his heart whenever Harry called him that would likely never cease, and Harry knew that. Draco was pretty sure he took advantage of that fact as often as he could, because that’s the only possible explanation for why he was still sitting there on that sofa while people stared.

“It’s not proper, Potter,” he hissed, not wanting to be heard by the other occupants in the room. He was pretty sure he heard Harry snort softly.

“Fine, then,” Harry said. Draco felt his body shift from behind him, and he half-expected Harry to just get up so that they could more to a more private location.

He was about to apologize and just give in before he was manhandled, the arm around his waist tightening as he was hauled up until he was fully rested on Harry’s chest, their noses brushing against one another’s.

“This is not better,” he glared, feeling his face heat up once again. He felt quite bad for those people that decided to enter their common room at that moment, only to be greeted with the sight of the two of them.

“Give me a second,” Harry snorted before wriggling a bit to the side, rolling over and dropping Draco in the newly formed space between him and the backrest of the sofa. 

“I don’t see how this is better,” Draco huffed, still clutching his book. Harry rolled onto his side before returning his arm to its previous position, holding him close.

In this position, Draco was mostly hidden by the backrest of the sofa, and anything else left exposed was mostly covered by Harry, who had taken it upon himself to practically drape his body over Draco’s.

“This is.... adequate,” Draco huffed, finding himself slowly smiling at the situation. 

“Good,” Harry beamed, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “So, can you focus on your studying, now?”

Draco thought it was quite silly of him to think that he would return to studying. He was warm, comfortable, and in the arms of his boyfriend.

He was going to nap.

“Sure,” he said anyway, not making any move to re-open his book, Instead, he snuggled deeper into Harry’s chest, burying his face in the crook of his neck. 

Again, another laugh from Harry. The hand returned to his head, playing with his hair once more while Harry whispered sweet words into his ear.

And somehow, the feeling of everyone’s eyes on them, and the soft murmurs probably preparing the latest gossip, faded into nothing as he allowed himself to be engulfed by the comfort of just being with Harry.

-————————————————-

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Thank you for reading <3

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Resentment Ch. 1 (Ethan x MC)

Summary: After 2 months of not seeing each other, Ethan and Naomi do not have a pleasant reunion.

A/N: So...I’ve been writing this for the past 2 weeks. Open Heart 2 is ripe with angst and untapped drama. Tbh, this is my 5th draft, and I kept deleting and writing, and deleting and re-writing this, and I had to step away multiple times, as this was probably be one of my more draining fics to write. But anyway, if you’re still reading this long winded ass note, thank you lol. And enjoy, as always!

Tags: @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @choicesobsessedd @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @doroshi-desu @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @dr-nancy-house @adrian-motherfucking-raines

~v~

Seeing Ethan Ramsey again nearly knocked the wind out of her. It feels like she saw a ghost. But here’s here, at Donahue’s, strolling through the garden as if this is any other night. As if he didn’t disappear off of the face of the earth for 2 months.

Naomi didn’t plan on having such a visceral reaction to seeing him, but she has little to no control over her body these days. Her heart speeds up, beating twice as fast, a cold sweat breaks out, starting at her forehead, and there’s the flip of her stomach and unmistakable taste of bile rising in her throat.

‘Do not throw up,’ she silently begs herself. ‘Do not throw up. Please, keep it together, Valentine.’

The chant doesn’t work, the nausea hitting her hard, like a wave crashing against the shore. She jumps out of her seat, ignoring the looks of confusion from her friends, and makes a beeline to the restroom, pushing past the other patrons at the bar. She barely makes it into a stall before she’s on her knees, emptying the contents of her stomach into a dirty public toilet.

Naomi isn’t sure how long she’s like this, embarrassingly clutching the toilet, but a knock at the stall door breaks her out of her trance. “It’s occupied!”

“It’s Sienna,” the voice on the other side says softly. “Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

The door swings open slowly and Sienna attempts to squeeze into the small space. It’s a tight squeeze, but she manages to make it work.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Naomi mumbles weakly. “You didn’t have to follow me.”

“Yes I did,” Sienna argues. She helps Naomi to her feet and pulls at the roll of cheap toilet paper. She bunches it up and wipes the corner of Naomi’s mouth. “You’re as pale as a ghost.”

“I feel like I’ve just seen one,” Naomi quips back. “Let’s just say I did not expect to see Dr. Ramsey here tonight.”

“You didn’t know he was coming back?” Sienna asks. “I thought you two were close.”

Naomi thought they were close too. But she got ghosted. It was jarring, going from sleeping with Ethan and openly flirting with him, to him being her boss again, to him disappearing and cutting off all communication within a span of 3 days. “I thought we were too.”

“How do you think it’ll be, working with him tomorrow?”

“I have no idea what to expect,” Naomi replies honestly. “Hopefully the rest of the team is nice.”

Sienna lifts Naomi up, helping her stand on her feet again. They exit the stall and Naomi washes her hands furiously like she’s about to perform surgery.

They walk out of the bathroom, Sienna with a protective arm around her friend’s waist. The rest of their friends are now inside, at their usual booth.

They all stare at Naomi, and she hates it. Now they’re probably going to think of her as the weirdo who threw up upon seeing her boss (an ex-lover, though not everyone is privy to that information).

“You just missed the wildest shit,” Bryce says, almost breathless. “Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Thorne nearly got into a fight!”

That was the last thing Naomi expected to hear. “What?”

“Thorne was being a real creep, and he tried to feel up some young girl. He touched her and she broke his hand!” Elijah exclaims. “He got loud and rowdy, he pushed her down, and Ethan came out of nowhere, swooping in like freaking Batman. I thought he was going to snap Thorne’s neck at one point.”

“Where is the girl?” Naomi asks. 

“She ran out of here as soon as she could.”

“I hope she’s okay,” Naomi murmurs, mostly to herself.

“Are you okay?” Bryce asks. “I’ve never seen you get sick before.”

“Whatever virus is fermenting in your body, please keep it away from me,” Jackie says, not even giving Naomi the chance to respond.

“Jackie!” Sienna tsks in annoyance. “Have some compassion.”

“She’s either drunk or it’s the stomach flu,” Jackie says with a shrug. “She’ll survive a little teasing.”

“It’s okay, Sienna,” Naomi insists. She loves her friend’s protective nature, but it really isn’t necessary. “You don’t have to go into mother hen mode.”

“Fine. But I’m making you soup after work tomorrow.”

“Deal.”

Reggie announces last call, and the gang starts talking about their post-bar plans. Be it getting food, going downtown, or just going home. Naomi drowns out the conversation as her eyes settle onto Ethan. His back is turned to her and Naomi notices that he’s the only one left at the bar while Reggie is cleaning up.

“Does last call not apply to you?” Naomi asks, getting his attention.

“Reggie and I go way back. We have an arrangement,” Ethan says simply.

“An arrangement.” Naomi rolls her eyes as she repeats the words. “Is that what you call a friendship?”

“I don’t have friends. But...I wouldn’t mind you joining me if you were so inclined.”

Naomi weighs her options. She can go home and put this night behind her, or she can stay out with Ethan. And actually talk to him.

She turns back to her friends. “You guys go on ahead. I want to check in about tomorrow with Dr. Ramsey.”

She doesn’t believe that excuse for one second. And if her friends don’t believe it either, they don’t say anything. Sienna just tells her to not stay out too late, before they all leave, going their separate ways.

Once they’re gone, Naomi joins Ethan at the bar. She looks at, really looks at him. He’s still the same handsome guy, just more...rugged. He’s much more tan than she remembers, it looks like he’s gained weight—muscle, not fat—and he’s sporting an entirely new look.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a brand new Ethan Ramsey,” she muses.

Ethan looks down at his green jacket, a vast departure from the sweaters and button ups he usually wears.

“This jacket’s been through a lot with me,” he explains, toying with the sleeve.

“I like it.”

She doesn’t miss the way he perks up at the compliment, almost as if he was hoping she’d say something. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Duly noted. And the beard?”

Ethan doesn’t know why he needs her stamp of approval so badly, but the validation she gives him feels nice. He likes to know that she thinks he looks good.

“It looks good on you,” Naomi answers honestly. Ethan scratches the beard, his fingers flying towards it unconsciously at her words. He nods, soaking in her praise.

“I’ve gotten used to it.”

Naomi looks around as an almost awkward silence settles between the two of them. She’s now actively aware of the fact that it’s just the two of them, alone.

“Why don’t we move this outside?” Ethan suggests, some of the tension dissipating. “It’ll be winter before we know it. Might as well enjoy the weather while we can. You want something to drink?”

Naomi’s stomach flips at the mention of alcohol. “You know what I want? A cup of ice water.”

Ethan’s eyebrow quirks up at the answer. They’re in a bar and she wants...water? He shrugs but heads behind the bar, nonetheless. Grabbing a Pilsner glass, he fills it to the top with ice and he also finds a bottle of water. He hands them off to Naomi. “For you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” They make their way outside. It’s so quiet now that everyone is gone. It feels peaceful. Ethan drops down in a chair near the fire pit and Naomi joins.

“I can see why you like it here.”

“Because nobody’s annoying me?” Ethan jokes.

“More or less,” Naomi concedes. “It’s peaceful.” Ethan nods in agreement. “So...how was it, being in the Amazon?”

“It was quite the experience. It kept me on my toes.”

“Fighting an epidemic in a different country sounds...thrilling. And scary. You’re brave for doing it.”

Ethan snorts. Naomi always manages to see the best in him, even when he doesn’t deserve it. “That wasn’t bravery.”

Naomi looks down at her lap. “You didn’t keep in touch. Two whole months without any form of communication seems extreme, don’t you think? Especially after everything that’s happened with us?”

“Everything that happened between us is exactly why I didn’t contact you.”

“192,” Naomi says. 

“Huh?”

“192. That’s how many times I’ve called you in the past 2 months. I also sent 75 texts and 30 emails. You could have responded to at least one of those.”

Hearing the numbers out loud makes Naomi feel ridiculous, like a stalker. And Ethan just feels...awful. He remembers his chest going tight every time he saw her name flash across his screen. He remembers the restraint it took him to not call her back, or reach out in any way. He needed to stay away. It was for the best, for both of them.

“Naomi, if we’re going to work together on the diagnostics team, we need a fresh start. Your professional development is too important to jeopardize it with whatever...what is was that we had.”

Ethan probably would’ve been better off taking this glass of ice water and throwing it in her face. The callousness in his voice chilled her to the core. “That’s how you’d describe it? As ‘whatever’?”

Ethan sighs heavily. Of course his relationship with the younger woman meant something to him, but if he was going to be her boss, they needed boundaries. There had to be a line.

“Pouring my heart out to you on multiple occasions and vice versa, secretly saving our boss’s life, you bringing Mrs. Martinez’s son to my ethics hearing, the sex, it all just culminates to a...whatever. What? Is what we went through just a casual experience in the life of Ethan Ramsey?”

“Of course not, but Naomi, I can’t go down this road with you again. We need to have a reset if things are going to work.”

She doesn’t know why the word ‘reset’ makes her laugh, but it does. She laughs, hard, almost maniacally, until her sides hurt and she can barely breathe. Ethan says nothing, staring at her in confusion.

“You know what, Ethan? Fuck you.”

That catches him off guard. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me loud and clear. Fuck. You. You’re a coward. And a runner. You run at the slightest hint of something being hard, or if you have to face your own emotions and vulnerabilities. You run off, drinking yourself silly and keeping your head in the sand, and then you come waltzing back as if nothing happened, but guess what? Life still happens. There is no reset, no do-overs, no pauses. Time still moves forward.”

Tears prick the corners of her eyes and she wills herself to not cry in front of him. He doesn’t deserve any more of her vulnerability. She doesn’t know why it hurts so much, but it does. The idea of him moving through life as if what they shared was minuscule and insignificant burns. It causes a sharp ache in her chest she didn’t realize she had the capacity to feel.

“While you were in South America, ignoring the almost 400 pieces of correspondence I sent, I was still here, still dealing with shit, still caring about you, worrying about you and your safety every fucking day. I don’t have the luxury of turning my feelings on and off whenever I see fit, and I don’t get to delude myself into thinking I can turn back time.”

How many times are they going to play this game before she realizes she’s always going to be the loser? She and Ethan get close, he rejects her but leaves just enough space and opportunity to keep her hanging on.

Naomi wraps her arms around her midsection and slightly curls into herself. Not even her own embrace is soothing at this point. The rejection stings, and she feels...stupid. Why does she keep holding out hope for Ethan, hoping he’ll want her the same way she wants him? Why does she keep coming back, waiting diligently like a little puppy, nipping at his ankles for the slightest bit of attention? Maybe she’s just a glutton for pain.

“If you want to hit the reset button, you can do it by yourself. I’m not playing that game with you.” Naomi abruptly stands up, clutching onto the back of her chair for stability. “Goodnight.”

Panic settles in his chest. He doesn’t want things with her to end like this, with her hating him. He wants her to stay. He wants to take back everything he just said. “Naomi, I–”

“Save it!” Whatever he’s about to say, whatever line it is that’ll feed her just enough false hope to keep hanging on, she doesn’t want to hear it.

After gathering her belongings, she turns on her heel, looking for the exit. Her entire body is rigid, defensive and ready to strike at any given moment, and she feels like she’s going to throw up again, which is something she truly does not have time for.

She’s fully prepared to walk away from him with whatever shred of dignity she still has, but she stops herself. She turns around, facing Ethan again.

“I called you a lot while you were gone. I left countless voicemails until your mailbox was completely full. Did you listen to any of them?”

“I haven’t listened.” Ethan feels ashamed by the answer, and he refuses to meet her big doe eyes, opting to look at the ground.

Naomi doesn’t dwell on the answer. She shakes off the hurt, and powers through.

“Last Wednesday, at 5:21 am, I called. You obviously didn’t answer, and I left a message. I’ll set the scene for you because I’ll never forget the moment. I was sitting in my bathtub, crying, almost hysterically. It was the type of crying that gets Meryl Streep and Viola Davis Oscar nominations, the kind that makes you feel sick to your stomach. But I live with 3 other people, so I had to sob into a face towel until the worst of it passed. And then I called you. Logically, I knew you probably weren’t going to answer, but I figured one last Hail Mary couldn’t hurt so I did it anyway. 

In the voicemail, I practically begged you to talk to me. To answer at least one of my calls. It was so...desperate. And pitiful. The old Naomi would rather get buried alive than to ever be so emotionally available and needy, but I didn’t care. In that moment, I needed you, I needed solace that I thought only you could give me, but I know now that it won’t happen. You’re way too emotionally stunted and unavailable.”

She inhales, something shaky and full of vulnerability, and every bone in her body is screaming out to just shut the fuck up and turn away.

“But you didn’t answer, you didn’t acknowledge it, and I was just absolutely gutted,” Naomi continues. “Because had you answered that call, or called me back some time that day, I would’ve told you that I’m pregnant.”

With that confession, Naomi visibly deflates. It feels like a crushing weight has been lifted off of her chest.

But Ethan feels the exact opposite. Unable to move, he gapes at Naomi. “You-you’re what?”

“Pregnant. 9 weeks, 5 days. It’s the size of an olive at this point, and before you ask, yes, it’s yours.”

Paternity hadn’t even crossed his mind at this point. He’s still stuck on the fact that she’s pregnant. 

“So while it hurts to know what you want a reset, and to pretend we didn’t share anything, it is also literally impossible to do so,” Naomi says with a humorless chuckle. “But don’t worry, I’ve received the message loud and clear. See you at work tomorrow, Doctor. Oh, and congratulations.”

Ethan watches as she leaves, even though he calls her name, asking her to stay. His chest feels tight like someone is squeezing him from the inside, and he struggles to inhale. The revelation stifles him, and he can’t get his bearings.

Unable to do much else, Ethan falls back into his chair. Despite trying his damnedest to get things back on track, it feels as if he’s made everything so much worse.

[mrfutureboy]

@rovermcfly tysm for tagging me and sorry this took 5ever!!

why did you choose your url?

i wanted a bttf url last summer when i got back into the fandom, and i wanted it to be specific to marty bc i love him but i also want to be him. im like, obsessed with the nickname "future boy" that doc gives him in 1955, and the url futureboy is taken, so i am mrfutureboy bc i am marty (kinnie shit)

any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them

i literally only have a handful for url-saving purposes. @rhodeystark and @masloki are my most notable old urls so i wanted them for safe keeping. i also have @goodnightfutureboy bc that was one of the bttf urls i was considering and i never got around to deleting it (if by chance anyone wants that lmk)

how long have you been on tumblr?

I think i joined in 2010.

do you have a queue tag?

back when i blogged a lot on desktop, xkit worked for me, and i actually queued shit for my blog it was “since queue been gone” bc i thought i was clever. i still think its clever tbh i just dont really queue anymore

why did you start your blog in the first place?

Iirc, an irl friend of mine heard about tumblr thru an upperclassman she was friends with, so she was like “sonny we should sign up for tumblr!” and i was like sure why not. first url was miss-math bc thats my deviantart username

why did you choose your icon/pfp?

im obsessed w mjf but im also a kinnie /j. i specifically love his look in that interview and also i own a very similar sweater now so. it me. also im basically aromantic even tho i dont really use the label so yeah i put that behind his pretty face

why did you choose your header?

skfkdksk its because i kept fucking dying in the stuart little 2 gba game. I havent played in a while but im stuck on the level where stuart goes into the sink drain to retrieve the wedding ring that isnt even in there

what’s your post with the most notes?

Feel free to fact check me, but im 90% sure it’s a screenshot of gwen and trent from tdi that i took, where gwen is like leaning on the table all miserable and trents got his hand on her back, captioned “rb if you agree” bc i thought they were really cute. i still get fucking notifications for that post i think its at over 500 notes now

how many followers do you have?

i dont particularly like sharing this since this is the only site that doesnt make that public, and it’s nice to not feel intimidated or make other people feel intimidated or ashamed, like how it kinda makes you feel bad when you have fewer followers than your friends on insta. but i’ll play, and as of right now i have 1065 followers im very grateful for <3

how many people do you follow?

240. ik my ratio is bad i promise im not being an asshole abt it

have you made a shitpost?

Ive been on tumblr a long time. Of course i have

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ post?

I get turned off by those posts a lot but i do be reblogging shit sometimes ill admit. but not blindly like i have to actually read it and care about it. But if its a 10 mile long post where everyones adding how necessary it is that its rb’d, forget about it

do you like tag games?

yeah!!! it just takes me a long time to finish them lol

do you like ask games?

I dont play them v often or receive them but i do!

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

@chloezhao, period. also @jedflah and @lonepinetimeline were some of the big names within the bttf community that i kept seeing last summer and i remember being like “omg they followed me”. (Well. Actually with theo i didnt recognize his main blog so for an embarrassingly long time i didnt realize we were mutuals slfksk. he would like my personal posts and i was like “wait who is this” and i felt like a huge idiot when i realized it was him! our 1 yr friendaversary is coming up love u cowboy <4)

do you have a crush on a mutual?

no but @biathelstan and i are cowboy soulmates

Tagging: @biathelstan @thereisnosafetythistime @anakins-rattail @mahourobotto

[neverlandparker]

Rooftops // peter parker (repost!)

Word Count:  3.2k words of angst and fluff - so much of it. teens in love and all the cuteness that ensues :)

Warnings: man armed with gun scene (kind of) but no worries! there’s no death or blood in this one!!

Author: @neverlandparker 

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry its been so long! Its nice to be back and writing! I really hope you enjoy reading this as much I did writing it! <3

Additional Note***This is a repost because I accidentally deleted the original!!! Luckily, I had a draft saved that was pretty close to the original...but I actually ended up changing it up a little bit :)  please please please give it another read even if you have read the original post and let me know what you think !! thank you so so much for your wonderful support, it really means the world! -claire xx***

Prompt: From my prompt list that is now nonexistent haha: #10: “Um…so you are going to just try convincing me that the last 10 seconds didn’t happen?” #12: “Are you just going to stare at me?” and ps I changed around the prompt words a bit to make it better fit the writing in that scene! 

Prompts were requested by anon & @underoos-shield <3

(photo not mine.)

…

It all began a week ago. You were walking toward your locker when you saw Peter and Ned standing nearby and speaking in a hushed, secretive manner. You thought maybe it was because they were trying to talk about some new Lego set without the whole world knowing so you just shrugged it off and walked toward them. 

It was not until you neared in proximity that you began to pick up bits of their conversation and upon hearing your name, you froze immediately. Thankfully, it was passing time and everyone was walking in the hallways crowded hallways giving you some coverage from being spotted eavesdropping on them. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but hearing your name come up in their conversation suddenly made you very intrigued. 

So you stopped at one of the nearby drinking fountains, filling up your empty water bottle as you made sure to listen extra carefully to see if you could make out their conversation. 

Even with your back turned, your eyes widened and you almost dropped your water bottle as you heard what came out of Peter’s mouth next. “Ned! But I can’t Y/N, I can’t tell her! She would hate me if I did.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ned making wild hand gestures as he replied, “Dude, you’re an Avenger. If anyone has a chance with a senior girl, it’s you!” 

You couldn’t grasp what was happening.

Peter? An Avenger? 

Then that could only possibly mean one thing—Peter Parker, your dorky best friend was Spider-Man.

Shocked and stunned, you immediately felt your hands fly to your mouth in a failed attempt to muffle your rather audible gasp at the realization.

You were thankful that the loud clamor of high school students in the hallway made your embarrassingly loud intake of air less noticeable.

As you went through your day, one thing stayed on your mind. Your best friend. Peter Parker. Was Spider-Man? 

But the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. The abrupt ends to your phone calls, the reason why Peter ditched you and Ned during your traditional Friday movie nights, and also the reason why his disappearances kept strangely matching up with Spider-Man’s appearances on the news. 

…

As you walked home from school, you were texting your friend until suddenly, you noticed the presence of a person behind you—your intuition seemed to be alerting you as you felt somewhat followed. As you carefully paid more attention, you realized the same man had followed you for what seemed like 10 straight minutes. Then, all of a sudden, it seemed like he caught you sneaking suspicious odd looks at him, and faster than one could say “thwip,” he pulled out a gun and pointed it straight at your head.

Your blood ran cold. Mouth ran dry. Sweat seemed to dampen your skin. Goosebumps formed. Tears prickled your eyes. Your legs started to shake. Your mind went blank. Pure terror seized hold on your heart and as much as wanted to scream for help and run for cover, your feet betrayed you, staying stubbornly stuck to the ground, as if glued there. 

“Drop your bag and give me your money!” he roared at you. 

You did as you were told, slowly and carefully as fear flooded your body. You reached a hand into your bag painstakingly slowly and was about to hand your wallet over but all of a sudden you hear – WHOOSH THWIP!

“Hey buddy! I believe that belongs to her!” and right before your own eyes, you witness Spider-Man up close, in action, practically flying toward your attacker and with a powerful kick delivered, he successfully knocked the man unconscious. 

As you were still collecting yourself over the last few minutes, he deposited the weapon , called the police, and had the unconscious assaulter tied up tightly against the brick wall of a nearby building.  

And as soon as he turned around to face you he froze, and the suit’s eyes almost seemed to dilate as if...as if he was surprised to see it was you. You took a mental note of this as you cautiously asked “U-um are you okay?” 

As if shaken out of whatever daydream he was in, he replied wittily, “h-hey, isn’t that supposed to be my line?” 

And as your smile began to fade, realizing what had almost happened had he not been there to save you, he immediately apologized, “I-I’m so s-sorry – I shoulda been t-there sooner. D-Did he hurt y-you?”

What you did next actually surprised you and him as well as you flung yourself full force at the masked hero, as you found yourself unable to express your thoughts in no other way, hoping that this embrace would suffice as a way of thanking him for saving your life.  

And then it was almost like you caved, as at once, your fierce guard had been let down and floodgates opened as you felt tears slide down and drip off your cheeks. More tears came and you struggled to keep your composure as you tried to muffle your sobs, only turning into even more of a sniffling, shaking mess. It was almost at that moment that you realized that you probably looked ridiculous, clinging onto the spandex-suited hero as you sobbed uncontrollably in the middle of the sidewalk. 

It must have been at that realization, but you quickly jumped back and quickly made an attempt to wipe away your tears, your eyes still red and watery. 

“Oh my god—I am so-so-so sorry I-I don’t know what came over m-me, I d-don’t know what came over me—thank you, thank you…” your voice trailed off as hushed as ever, as Spider-Man faced you, listening.

“No–no-no- please don’t ever apologize. It was my fault that I let this happen and damn it I should have been here earlier and I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry…If I had gotten here any later…god what were you thinking? Walking by yourself? Who let you do this? Who was dumb enough to let you walk home by yourself?” he practically screeched and he was up about pacing the sidewalk in front of you. At first you were rather taken back by his outburst earlier but then the more you observed carefully, it seemed awfully like he was almost berating….himself?

You made a mental note that everything so far seemed to be like Peter. His height and build, the voice, and his caring nature which shone right through the mask.

But scared to jump to conclusions with your assumptions and possibly revealing his secret identity to the world, you sat there with your mouth shut, listening to him rant. You decided now was not the right  time to confront him about this. It would have to wait for later. 

“Um–hey Y/—Miss?” he waved a cautious hand in front of your face.

You jumped back to reality. 

“Oh. Um,” you cleared your throat, “uh right!”

“I’d better get going,” you stated still slightly dazed from traumatic event and the possibility of Spider-Man being your own best friend. 

You got up slowly and when you finally managed to collect yourself enough, you flashed a watery smile his way and started to slowly walk away.

Before you could get far though, you heard a voice calling your name. 

“Hey! Miss…Wait up!” 

You looked over your shoulder and you saw the familiar red and blue suit. Your lips quirked upwards instinctively and you turned your body towards him.

Huh?

His normally confidently and witty composure had shrunk and now he was looking everywhere but you, shuffling his feet unconsciously, and wringing his hands….nervously?

You looked up at him, with a gentle expression as if expecting an answer.

He cleared his throat.

“Umm yeah uh sorry–sorry just um can I walk you home?” 

It came out so timidly, you smiled. 

“Of course, I’d love some company”

…

Before you knew it, you had arrived at your apartment and you dug your key out from your backpack. 

“Well, this is me….thank you. again. thank you for saving my life back there” you looked up at him. 

And throwing all reservations out the window, you threw your hands around his neck, pulling him close, hugging for a minute. 

Then, you pulled back, a blush dusting your cheeks. 

“Honestly I don’t know what I’d do without you…..” you trailed off, then realizing what you said wasn’t exactly how you wanted it to come out, you quickly added, “…in that situation I mean.” Your face was flaming. 

“Thank you again” you whispered.

The masked hero just nodded. 

“I’ll see you around”

And with that, you gave him a little wave, and shut the door, as you felt your legs give out, sliding down against the back of the door to your apartment, as you sat there for a few minutes blinking back tears as you tried to comprehend what had just happened in the last hour. 

…

School had gone as normal the day after. And there was nothing out of the ordinary. Admittedly, you were still slightly shaken from the events of the day before, but you were slowly starting to feel normal again.

You took note that Peter had stuck at your side for the entire day, running to catch up with you in the halls even if his next class was all the away across campus at the tech wing, insisting that he walk you to your next class.

You kept protesting, saying you were perfectly fine and pushing him away, not wanting him to be tardy to his next class, but he stayed adamant and walked by you for the rest of the day whenever he possibly could. 

Whenever you asked about it, he shrugged and just replied with, 

“Just trying to be good company” 

…

Although having Peter so close the whole day which you had to admit was comforting, it also made your feelings for him a lot harder to suppress. 

He was your best friend for goodness sake. 

You were looking forward to walking home with him but it seemed like he had disappeared. You had asked Ned but he just shrugged and mumbled something about the Stark Internship keeping him busy again. 

You sighed, you really were looking forward to the normal times again, when you, Peter and Ned would walk home together on Fridays and have a Star Wars marathon. However, Peter had been busy lately. You’d really only ever see him in school. Although you felt sad or sometimes a bit angry, he always apologized profusely about Tony Stark keeping him super busy. 

So you let it slide. 

You took a breath and started walking home. This time, super hyper aware of all your surroundings. Ten minutes into your walk, you felt nauseous. It was that feeling from yesterday all over again. Except when you looked around there was no one in sight. Perhaps it was just you, shaken from the rather disturbing memory of what had happened at this exact time. 

You blinked hard and clutched your backpack and resumed your walk, picking up your pace. 

But not before long, you heard a voice call out to you. 

You immediately froze, adrenaline pumping through your body. 

Surely not again?

You slowly turned around.

But this time, it wasn’t a big menacing man with a gun, it was only Spider-Man, perched upon a nearby apartment fire escape. 

He gave you a friendly wave, and you imagined that he was smiling at you behind his mask.

You grinned and waved back. 

“What are you doing here?” you called, curious to see what he was up to. 

After all, it wasn’t everyday that you got to talk with Queen’s very own infamous web-slinging hero. 

“Just sticking around for surveillance and of course, looking out for you ma’am” he winked.

Why he seemed confident today.

You felt your smile get impossibly bigger and your heart swelled at the generous gesture. 

“Thank you” you called up to him.

“Anytime”

The rest of your walk home, you felt at peace, having your guardian angel aka spidey looking out for you along the way. 

At some point, he swung down and joined you on your way home and when he was prompted as to why, he just shrugged,

“Just trying to be good company”

You froze.

He immediately stiffened. 

The words rung in your ears, reminding you of a similar line a certain someone had just said to you yesterday.

He quickly stammered out, 

“Uh - yeah you know, just tryin to be a good friend–that’s all”

You frowned but kept walking and before you knew it, you had arrived at your apartment once again, with Spidey in tow. 

“Hey um this might sound really weird but uh I promise there’s a reason. Uh can you come to the rooftop with me?”

As your question came out, you surprised yourself at your forwardness. 

“Um…er sure why not?”

Relieved that he had agreed, you started to insert your key in the lock of your apartment door but he had something else to say, 

“Hey wait…”

You turned around and saw him extending an outstretched hand toward you.

“Do you-uh do you trust me?”

You were a bit hesitant at what he had in mind, but you had to remind yourself that this was the same guy who had saved your life, and again, it might turn our to be your best friend after all.

“Yes…yes of course”

You placed your hand in his as he shot a web out to the top of your building and before you could finish your sentence…

“Wait…what are you do y—”

You had to muffle your scream as he pulled you into his side, swung the both of you to the rooftop, and gently placed you down. 

Your legs were still shaking a bit from the surprise, but you smiled. Soaring through the air from a spider web was one thing to watch but definitely another to experience. 

You turned around toward the hero but he forgot to let go of you before you twirled right around, bumping your nose and lips with his as your eyes widened and you immediately pulled away, flushing at the accident. 

The both of you blushed and looked away from each other, coughing and apologizing, but never daring to catch the eyes of the other. 

There almost a pause on time as the two of you proceeded to stare at each other, mouths open, eyes wide, unmoving. Both of you frozen in shock just standing there staring at the other. 

At last, you cleared your throat and seeing as if he was still glued on the spot, you came up with the worst thing you could probably possibly say in that moment,

“Ummm so are you just going to keep staring at me?”

That seemed to break whatever spell the awkward kiss? (was it even a kiss if they didn’t actually kiss?) had put on him. 

At a lack of words, he immediately blushed and stuttered as once more, his nervousness you had heard from the previous day came back. 

Peter prayed that you couldn’t see the raging blush on his cheeks through the mask. Of course it was just him being paranoid, the mask wasn’t transparent, but he certainly felt that way with the situation and the fact that you were staring right at him wasn’t helping very much. 

At last he spoke up, 

“Um…so you are going to just try convincing me that the last 10 seconds didn’t happen?”

Your head snapped up. You felt heat rise to your face once more. 

But suddenly feeling a bit more bold, you took a step closer to him.

At your now close proximity, you felt no need to speak any louder and you whispered to him, 

“Not if you don’t want to”

Taken aback by your audacity, Spider-Man peeled up his mask up to his nose, revealing his face from the nose down.

You were so close now, and just as when you were about to take another bold step forward even closer to him, you were interrupted by a voice that seemed to come from Spider-Man’s suit.

“Now’s your chance. Kiss her Peter.”

You jumped back in surprise.

“Karen!” you heard him yell.

Spider-Man looked mortified and although a bit taken aback, you just smiled, because the suit confirmed it was indeed your best friend, Peter Parker, who was behind the mask of the spider hero. You just laughed at his priceless expression.

“Peter! Who was that?” you teased. 

Shocked that you found his secret identity in this way, Peter’s already raging blush turned three shades darker and because Peter was well, Peter, he started his nervous habit again–looking everywhere else but you. 

“Oh um t-that was Karen, um my AI for t-the s-suit” he coughed awkwardly.

Then, but not before doing a quick once over to his surroundings, he yanked off his mask, revealing your best friend’s face. 

“Oh my god—Y/N I’m so sorry. I-I-I don’t know what to say—uh um I’m so s-sorry. Please don’t be mad—just let me explain—“

“Pete—Pete. Whoa, slow down! I’m not mad at all, although I wished you told me sooner, but….Peter! That’s crazy. You’re Spider-Man…you’re Spider-Man. I mean—come on—what, wow and all those flips and wow you’re so amazing and—y-y-you stopped a bus with your bare hands—I……….“

What?

You felt hot under his gaze, realizing that he had been staring at you. 

But before you could get your next words out, Peter decided it was now or never as he swooped down and planted a quick kiss on your lips, pulling back quickly flustered, leaving you to both stare at each other, stunned. 

After the initial shock, you couldn’t help the uncontrollable smile that tugged at your lips as you felt your heart so fast, you thought it was going to fly out of your chest. But then the two of you stepped closer, and you let your eyes flutter closed as he met you in the middle with his lips on yours, and you swear fireworks were going off inside your head. Your hand wrapped around his neck to pull him even closer and his hands drifted to your hips, just like May had taught him. Sure, you had read about it in stupid fantasy novels and even fanfiction but it was nothing compared to the real life sensation of kissing your best friend. It was everything you ever imagined it could be and more. 

Both of you smiled out of the kiss, leaning your foreheads together, chests heaving, slightly dazed, and hearts beating wildly. Finding his eyes on you, you looked to him and when his features softened as he gazed at you, you couldn’t help but swoon a little, feeling your heart soar. You bit your lip, finding him incredibly endearing.

“You know…I really like you Peter…um have for a while now”

“I really like you too Y/N. Its always been you.”

Thank goodness for best friends, rooftops, and first kisses. 

…

A/N: thank you so so much for reading!!! hope you liked the slightly different ending :)

talk to me about your thoughts on this fic!! i’d love your feedback!!

taglist (ask to join my taglist HERE): @ninaminaromina

Tagging some amazing people! (thank you for your support!! <3): @lavenderholland @mcuspidey @sunshinehollandd @sunshineperriee @hollandsosterfield @sergeanttpoliteness @peterstrainingwheels @rachramblesstuff @poetrypeter @acciopeter @ilvarmorny @h-osterfield @parkerprotectionprogram @marvelplease @darlingtaurus @mysteryavengers @uwu-peter-parker-uwu @i-am-steve-rogerss @holland-peters @loverholland @thisbitchemptylove @poeticpeterecs @badhollandfluff @blackberrywidow @iloveyouironman @plushparker @lostinspidey @spideypeach @parkeret @scarlettspidey @marvelsswansong @twilightparker @retroparkers @obsiidio

[angrylizardjacket]

i got hit with major feels after reading the latest AYDTD. please brace yourself for this essay and i hope i sound even a tiny bit coherent. like idek where to start but this story is literally my absolute fave. it has EVERYTHING i want in a fic. seriously. E V E R Y T H I N G. asher is the pairing i have been waiting for 5ever. (1/14)

gaaaah i love how they started off hating each other and then FWB situation and then all the angst and jealousy and now the being in a relationship but still absolutely terrified and waiting for the shoe to drop???? (2/14)

like you have no idea how long i have been waiting for a fic like this and HOW you write them is such a big part of why i like it. i’m sure there are other fics like this (i’ve read a few from the dramione fandom in HP) BUT NONE OF THEM GET IT RIGHT THE WAY YOU DO. like you write them in such a raw and natural way that i can literally feel or at least understand and see just how vulnerable ash and roger both are. (3/14)

they’re both used to fucking things up and now that they have smth good, it’s terrifying them both and i love that in this pairing??? you express that about them so perfectly. you just write them so well, they’re characterizations are perfect. i don’t think i have enough words to express how much or what i love about them??? because i love everything?? (4/14)

girl i’ve read so many angsty fics but you are one of the select few that get it right! like this has everything i’ve ever wanted in a pairing. also i can’t emphasize enough how REAL you write them. the way you describe their emotions and how you fit their dialogue which is also perfectly natural and so REALISTIC. ugh istg this fic of yours is giving me so much life rn like i look forward to every. single. update. (5/14)

i keep reading and re-reading the other chapters. that’s how much i love it?? i’m also ridiculously excited for the part with dominique. like I KNOW that shit will RUIN ME (in a good way of course) but i live for drama and your well-made angst just makes it even better??? i cannot wait for how these two will deal with that and what will go down!! (6/14) 

idk if it’s just me but these two are so relatable IMO. i’ve become so jaded about love and relationships and your fic has managed to encapsulate everything i’ve ever thought about and felt when it comes to those two things. (7/14) 

ash’s hesitations towards anything serious with roger and her fear of smth getting messed up so she doesn’t want to dwell on the good things or label anything like i get that??? i get the hesitation to not want to get caught up in anything bec nothing is perfect and smth’s bound to go wrong. there’s just smth so real about that and you’ve managed to capture it perfectly with these two. (8/14) 

  i love that both of them don’t know what to do with all their feelings and how you write them struggle with it feels so forking real. i love reading about a pairing and seeing everything they go through in their relationship and when i say you’ve hit all the right spots for asher, girl i’m totally serious. everything going on with them feels real and relatable like these are valid emotions and circumstances that someone could go through?? (9/14) 

like i know they’re gonna have a HEA but no relationship is perfect and i’m so ready to read about all the stuff coming their way and how they’re gonna get through all that like ugh just imagining all the angst and drama is making me so excited but also knowing they’ll be happy in the end isn’t a total spoiler either?? the stakes are still real? anything could happen??? (10/14) 

i can’t wait to see what each character will do to fight for their relationship and work things out??? mygosh i LIVE for this stuff??? all the angst and dramadramadrama!!! how you make their struggles so fricking real just makes the ending so much better like whatever happens to these two, they deserve that HEA. (11/14) 

listen if you need to take a break, delete prompts and ask for new ones etc, girl YOU DO YOU okay??? don’t let anyone get in the way of your inspiration or your writing. i will literally fight people if they drive you away from this and it affects AYDTD. (12/14)

it would be so devastating if you end up abandoning the story cause people are being dumb or whateva (unless of course it’s smth personal and whatnot then girl i would understand that i don’t wanna sound selfish or anything). i’m forever grateful that you shared this masterpiece to us like idk what i would do once this ends (probs read it like everyday all over again)???? (13/14)

the realism in your writing style is really just perfect for asher and i’ll never get over this story. wow this is embarrassingly long and ALL OVER THE PLACE so i’m not coming off anon, i just had to get all my feelings out 🙃 i’m sorry for the multiple messages??? ANYWAY i can’t believe this word vomit i wrote, TLDR: AYDTD IS PERFECT. I LOVE IT. YOUR WRITING IS AMAZING. YOU ARE AMAZING. THIS FIC IS EVERYTHING. THANK YOU FOR WRITING ASHER AND SHARING IT WITH US. (14/14)

P.S. all the moments between asher in the latest update was so perfect my heart literally melted during the part when ash wasn’t upset that roger got a song idea while they were making out??? that was so adorable and they’re so cute i literally cannot shut up about them okay i’m gonna stop now byeeee

It took me a while to post this because it absolutely floored me. The idea that you've connected to my story in such a way is so overwhelming and I'm so unbelievably glad I was able to write something that you've enjoyed so thoroughly. I don't know how to respond to this, I'm genuinely so overwhelmed and appreciative. I love you and I wish you all the happiness in life, thank you so much for taking the time to send this. 💖💖💖

[mytearsrricochet]

ok so....inspired by the events that took place tonight (or were rather “exposed” tonight, if you will) I feel this is a good opportunity to share my own story about a similar situation. it’s been awhile since this happened and I don’t tell almost anyone about this. but I feel like talking through it step by step will help me cope. the realization about this thing happening was about 6 or so months ago I think....and I haven’t let myself think about it or really do anything with it because I've been terrified of confronting my feelings. I just wanted to put it behind me and forget about it, but we all know that’s not healthy.

so this doesn’t really relate to anything in this fandom, and it may seem too personal for me to post, but ya know whatever this is my blog and one means of posting about something that happened to me without judgment from people who already know me in the real world (besides just the internet). I'm putting it under a cut because I don’t want to bother people with this long ass story lol.

trigger warnings for abuse, self harm, suicide attempts, all that jazz

so when I was about 12 and a half or so, I embarrassingly took place in a thing that was popular back then (circa 2011/12) which was facebook roleplaying. basically what you did was create a new facebook account for a character you wanted to play, which could either be a character that was canonical or one you made up, but you were usually in a fandom. I roleplayed a character from the hunger games as I was very into the fandom at the time, but I was also very into glee then as well. that meant I was active in both fandoms equally, roleplaying with thg and glee people. it was a way to pass the time and I met a lot of cool people on there.

I became friends with a girl who was roleplaying a glee character very quickly. her real name was Emilee and I facetimed with her a lot and had her on my real facebook. she was really great and she was actually a few months younger than me. no qualms about her in this story. she role-play “dated” a male character from glee, Finn. the guy behind Finn was clearly foreign as he spoke English but pretty choppy. since I was friends with Emilee in real life (not just on facebook), I became friends with the Finn character too. the person behind the facebook account was named James. he was really nice and cool, and I didn’t really go further with him in our friendship in terms of social media. eventually though, Emilee deleted her role-play account very suddenly and blocked me on all social media. I had no idea why until Finn/James told me he would rather role-play date me. please keep in mind I was like 12/13 so this is more dramatic then than it is for me now at 19. I thought it was stupid for Emilee to ghost me like that as I liked finn/James as a friend, but Emilee was a really good friend to me and I was pissed that he would tell her that knowing it would jeopardize our friendship. again, 12 years old. this was a big deal back then.

I ended up getting over Emilee ghosting me pretty quickly, and after talking to finn/James (as my character, not about real-life issues, strictly still role-play) I decided sure why not. Emilee (her character was Rachel) was no longer around and I liked to role-play dating scenarios since I had never had a relationship in real life and I liked to act them out online.

my character (Madge) began dating James’s character Finn. they got engaged, married, whatever. by this point in the role-play timeline though, I had actually grown to know James more personally, and half our conversations were about our own lives. we became actual friends. he was really nice, and eventually, I formed a crush on him. I had never met him, facetimed, Skyped, or anything with him, I just really liked his personality. he was nice and funny and always cared about what I wanted to talk about. naturally I formed a desire to talk to him more, which I probably wrongly perceived as a crush. I just liked attention, and at that age, I was going through a hard time in my life with an abusive person that my father was dating, and I was honestly just trying to find comfort anywhere. James provided it for me.

I was getting bored with roleplaying and was getting anxiety about having a crush on someone I didnt know, so I confronted him about it. he told me he cared for me honestly, not just in the roleplaying world. that was about it at that point. I didnt know what that meant which caused more anxiety. eventually he told me he had a crush on me too, based off of the things we had talked about before, and he wanted to get to know me better. I had just celebrated my 13th birthday around this time. I vividly remember going to church with one of my friends and seeing a long paragraph he messaged me about himself. he was 17, his name was James Levine, and he was from France. I realized at that point I was too scared to tell him my age because it might scare him off, so I let him know I wasn't comfortable with sharing my age, but I shared a lot of other personal stuff like my name and whatever. he understood.

about 2 years goes by, and we are still talking and “dating”. the thing is, he has never shown me a picture of himself, we haven’t talked on the phone, we don’t FaceTime, nothing. I had requested it before, but he always blew me off. I had a really bad feeling in my stomach about it, and I think I always knew what was going on, but he was my outlet during a time where I had either bad friends or no friends, my dad was in and out of rehab, I was living with my emotionally abusive grandmother, and I had no one to rely on. I ignored what I knew in my heart because I just needed someone to talk to. it’s my biggest regret to this day.

anyway, when I was 15, I tell him how old I am. if you do the math, he is 19 by now. he’s kind of upset about the age difference, but he kind of forgets about it, I guess. nothing happened from it. I send him a selfie of me, and it’s the first time he’s ever seen me. the next morning, he sends me a selfie of him. he’s cute. we go about our lives.

he sent me recordings of songs he covered, and sometimes when I was really upset, I listened to them before I went to sleep because his voice soothed me. things seemed pretty normal, but I still had that gut feeling, and I ignored it.

one day I opened my laptop to reverse image search something for a friend, and something hit me...I could reverse image search the pictures he’d been sending me of himself. I started crying before I even clicked the search button because I knew what I was about to see. I was right. he used the picture of some 15 year old model from Portugal. before I even confronted him, I (somehow) sleuthed really well and found the model’s social media and sent him a message on all of it to let him know someone was using his pictures to catfish him. I'm not sure what he could've done about it, but I guess it gave me some satisfaction. he responded “ok”. 

finally I confronted James about it, and his first response was to tell me he wanted to delete his account and never speak to me again. he told me this was for my own good, since there was no way I could ever continue to love him after that. and for some reason...since I honestly had no one at the time...I told him to let me think bout it for a few days. I did, and I returned as if nothing happened. he still neglected to send me a picture after that, and I was pissed.

this was around the time of my first suicide attempt. with everything going on in my life, I couldn’t handle it. he was very scared, understandably, and I tried again a few weeks after the first. for this time, though, instead of being met with sympathy, he told me I was selfish and all i thought about was myself. 

around this time, he also started talking about how sick he was. I always knew he had a heart problem (he told me the specific name but I can’t remember now). he was afraid it was getting worse. whenever I had panic attacks, he would pretend his heart was acting up and leave.

now, I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD since around this time. I had started going to therapy after my second attempt, where I was diagnosed with a multitude of illnesses. one of them was PTSD and one of the triggers, though it has since been handled via therapy, was alcohol. he knew this, and one of the things he always told me was that he hated alcohol and could never drink it. this was good for my situation, as we did one day plan to meet up and get married (yeah, you don’t have to lecture me about that, I know, just keep reading). but one night, he got shitface drunk and told me all about how he had a huge crush on this girl that worked for his dad, and he really wanted to leave me because my depression and PTSD were too much for him, and he couldn’t handle me anymore. in fact, he kissed one of his best friends that night, a girl who he had been friends with for awhile and she always made me really jealous because he would talk about her so often. this sent me into a deep depression that literally took me forever to get out of. I was so hurt for many many reasons.

the next day, he asked me, as if it was no big deal, “so uh I know I told you about the girl Payton, can I leave now? I wanna go ask her out”

I just wanted to include that to note his lack of empathy. typing that made me mad all over, though it was FAR from the worst thing he did.

I didn’t talk to him for about a week, until he came back and said it was just a fascination with the girl and not a crush, and he really loved me. I foolishly said ok. 

one day, I was sitting on my computer, and out of nowhere, I got this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, as if I was going to vomit, and I spent 3 hours surfing youtube to see if the audio clips he sent me of song covers were even his. I have NO idea how I did it, but lo and behold, I found the channel of a guy with those song covers. I remember clicking on a video and hearing the first notes and vomiting all over my lap. I was so upset.

let’s just say I didn’t learn. I forgave him.

he finally sent me pictures of his face, and I was satisfied with that. he sent me voice recordings of him saying my name. I let everything else go, because he did what I asked him to do. still no Skype or phone call.

fast forward a bit, and when I was 17, our relationship was really waning. we wouldn’t talk to each other for days, and when we did, it was nothing of substance. on Black Friday, I went shopping with my friends, and I found the hair dye I'd been wanting to dye my hair for awhile, this metallic blue. I sent him a picture of the bottle and was clearly excited that I had found it. he sent back, “you’d look so ugly in that, I wouldn’t date you if you dyed your hair that color”

contrary to popular belief, I did not suck it up as I did all those years before. I said “ok, guess you don’t have a girlfriend anymore”. that night I went home and dyed my hair an electric blue, and that was a mistake as I didn’t mix the color correctly, but damn if I may say I felt really confident with that bright blue hair after that.

we talked a little bit after that, and he backtracked and said he liked the blue in order to get me back. the night before our 4th anniversary, he broke up with me. and I said “ok. I'm done”. I blocked him on facebook and went on my damn merry way. I was pissed because I never found out what I wanted to know, about who he really was, but I was so done with the years of emotional abuse and neglect from him, all the lies and the insults and the long nights with no sleep and missing school because he would ask me to so he could still talk to me. what a wanker. however, right before I left the account, he told me he thought he might have cancer. I said ok cool and continued on.

fast forward a year, I reactivate the account because I am bored and I wonder if he still has the account. he does. I send a message “hi”. this turns into a few days of talking. I was in college at this point, definitely healed from the wounds he created, though I'm still very insecure about the things he pointed out. finally, I asked him, “can I know the truth?” it took him an hour to reply, and he said “tomorrow. I will tell you everything”

now, that weekend, my roommate’s friend was in town, and I wasn’t sure how that was going to be handled as she was staying in our dorm and I knew if what he would tell me was bad, I'd probably not leave my bed for days.

the day comes, and the first thing he does Is send a voice recording.

typing this part out still hurts, as I never let myself cope with what he told me. the rest of the story is old news and something I honestly don’t care about anymore, but this part just happened 6-7 months ago, and I still can hardly breathe when I think about it.

James was actually...Daniela. she was a 20 year old girl from Mexico who liked to role-play on Facebook as men. she never told anyone about it, and for some reason, instead of just telling me the truth when we decided to talk outside of our role-play characters, she lied to me. she made up WILDLY elaborate stories. I knew I couldn’t trust this person the whole time I was “dating” them, but this was another level. if you’re doing the math correctly, she also lied about her age by a few years, and our age difference was one of the many things that gave me anxiety throughout our “relationship”. 

I literally didn’t get out of bed for 11 hours. my roommate didn’t know what to do with her friend, but eventually I got up. I ended up with my fourth suicide attempt (the third was not mentioned in this story as it was not relevant to Finn/James/Dani). she Brought up the fact that she had told me (as James) that she thought she had cancer and it was very true. she still thought she did.

the next day, she acted as if everything was back to normal. as in, when we were dating. calling me baby, saying I love you. I was so pissed. but for some reason, she sweet-talked me into feeling like this was normal, and for a few days, I even went along with it. until one day, I snapped, and blocked her on everything (at this point I had gotten her snapchat too). I wanted nothing to do with her.

I unblocked her on facebook a day later for some reason, and she sent me 40 messages about how I betrayed her. my last message was “fuck off. I hope you die”.

brutal, but that was the last correspondence I have with her. and I fucking mean it. I hope nothing bad bad things happen to her. I'm still heartbroken over it, though not surprised. 

catfishing is very real, and while I knew what was happening th whole time, that doesn’t mean what happened was ok. I'm WAY better now, but the experience left me with trust issues, severe insecurities, a fear of talking about my mental illnesses because I assume I'll be judged, and a fear of getting close to people.

so yeah. there’s that. sorry about posting, but honestly, this was so therapeutic.

[soulswimmr]

High Hopes

Ch. 3

Pairing: Holy Duality (GabeMike)

Word Count: 4327

Date Numero Uno

“Good morning, Michael,” the receptionist clacked loudly on her computer as Michael was greeted by the cool air conditioning in the rec center, humming a bright “hello” to the lady who could embarrassingly call him by name. He had made quite a few trips to the rec center now, and not just to drop Kristi off at school.

Gabriel should be off work in the next fifteen minutes or so, when Michael would ask him on a dinner date like a proper man and “firmly establish his thirst” as Zadkiel had so gracefully put it. But first, he thought, peeking around the corner and climbing the stairs to the upper workout area, There’s someone I haven’t seen in at least a month.

Michael always felt bad for the little kids who had to wander through rows of workout benches and strange equipment just to reach the ballet studio, but it had never been able to phase him. According to the schedule of activities that was posted for all to see at the entrance of the rec program, ballet classes didn’t start for at least a half an hour, which meant-

Michael rapped on the glass doors to the ballet studio cheerily, creaking the door open, and poking his head inside.

“Ms. McAllister~” he sang, announcing his entrance. The bright lights in the studio were on, and a young woman was crouched over the stereo system sniffling loudly. Michael’s smile froze as she turned to him, wiping her eyes quickly and sighing.

“What do you want, Michael?” Natalie’s voice was crackly and tired as he shut the door behind them, embarrassed about...whatever he had just walked in on.

“I just wanted to say hi to my favorite redheaded ballet dancer named Natalie Anabella McAllister!” he put his hands up, leaning on the wall and giving her a sympathetic pout. “What’s got you all hung up, Gingersnap?”

“It’s nothing, I don’t want to talk about it,” she crossed her arms and turned away from him. She’d look pretty ridiculous in her black leotard and tie dye tights with leg warmers if her hunched shoulders and drippy face didn’t melt Michael’s icy heart.

Michael sat on one of the steps that led to the door and patted a space beside him, “C’mon, kiddo, talk to me.”

Natalie glanced down at the spot and her indignant composure collapsed. Her lip trembled as fresh new tears breached her eyes and she half threw herself on the steps next to Michael, hugging her knees as she cried.

“Awww, Gingersnap,” Michael slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, letting her lean on his shoulder. He tapped out a quick message on his phone and deposited it back in his pocket. “Now, what’s this all about?”

Natalie made an attempt to compose herself, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue she had been holding on to. After a couple deep breaths, she pulled out her phone, bringing up messages from an unfamiliar contact. The contact picture was of some slimy looking kid that looked about as trustworthy as a hungry vulture.

“It’s my boyfriend- well, ex-boyfriend? I don’t know, he’s sending so many mixed messages,” she whined.

“Uh oh,” Michael quipped. “So, tell me about this ex-boyfriend of yours.”

Gabriel put his planner in his black bag, glancing at his phone, shining bright in the dark classroom with a new message. He unlocked it and smiled when he saw that it was from Michael.

[4:27]   Michael Alegal: Whenever you’re done, meet me in the ballet studio upstairs! We have a boy emergency!

Gabriel smiled at the slew of emojis that followed, ranging from sad faces to knives to hugs. It hadn’t taken him very long to realize that Michael was one of those people who wouldn’t feel complete texting words alone. From the implications of it, it seemed as though he was going to see Natalie upstairs, who Gabriel knew very well to have “boy emergencies.”

He closed his phone, and, after locking up the classroom and waving goodbye to Chelle, made his way upstairs to the dance studio. Michael had texted him early, announcing that he would be stopping in the rec center after Gabriel was done working, but had never specified why. Gabriel couldn’t quite shake the jittery feeling in his gut, or the spring in his step that even Chelle had noticed after he received the text. Perhaps it was worth admitting that Gabriel was excited to see Michael after texting him back and forth day in and out. Despite his strangely vain nature and wildly disproportionate emotions, Michael was a gem to be around, occasionally stopping through the rec center to go to gym and waving hello to Gabriel. It was that and the time that he came in with a cake just to apologize that had caused Gabriel to blush (feeling like a dumb 13 year old again) when his mother asked when he was going to take the man on an “actual, proper date.”

The studio lights illuminated the corridor outside through the glass door, and Gabriel took that as his invitation to walk inside, slowly opening the door and searching for Natalie and Michael inside.

He found them right at his feet, surrounded by crumpled tissues and hunched around Natalie’s bright coral phone. The sound of him entering captured Michael’s attention as he craned his head backwards and smiled wide.

“Gabe!” he greeted cheerily, a stark contrast to Natalie’s puffy eyes and frown. “Come, join us, we were just cleaning up dear Natalie’s contacts.”

“What’s going on, Ms. McAllister?” Gabriel inquired, sitting on the other side of her. Gabriel had taken a secret pride in being The Shoulder to Cry On to the rec center staff. He had seen everything- breakups, pet deaths, or just someone spilling their lunch everywhere and bursting into tears because their day was already a mess. He did his job sparingly, but there was nothing better than a shaky smile as someone would say “thanks for listening, Mr. Fields.”

“Natalie’s former honey keeps asking her to take him back even though he was the one who broke it off in the first place,” Michael explained as Natalie continually stared at her phone, more focused than melancholy at that point.

“He’s a jerk,” she sniffed, dragging her eyes from the phone to Gabriel. “And I know, he doesn’t deserve me, but I can’t just-”

“Delete it,” Michael insisted, reaching for her phone, and Natalie jerked it out of his reach.

“Delete what?” Gabe asked.

“His contact. She needs to cut him out completely,” Michael crossed his arms pridefully. “Nothing says “It’s over for good” like “Who is this?? You aren’t in my contacts.””

“Gabriel, help me out here!” Natalie groaned.

“I hate to gang up on you, Ms. McAllister, but Michael might be right. You sure you don’t like him anymore?”

“I- I think so.”

“And leading you on isn’t very kind of him, yes?”

“Yeah…”

“Then I think deleting his contact information might be a good decision,” Gabe said, trying to sway his voice as gentle as he could. Natalie looked at her phone with a new confidence.

“He doesn’t deserve you!” Michael squeezed her shoulder. “If he doesn’t treat you right by now, you’re gone!”

“I’m gone,” Natalie nodded firmly.

“Good! Now go chop his di-”

“Michael,” Gabriel cut in. Michael gave him a sheepish smile over Natalie’s shoulder.

“Want me to do it for you, Nat Cat?” he asked. Nat thought for a moment and nodded, handing him the phone. Michael poked at the buttons for more than a few moments, looking up when he saw Gabriel and Natalie staring at him.

“Ah, sorry, I’m still trying to find the delete button...Aaaand done!” he exclaimed, handing the phone back to Natalie. She cracked a smile.

“I’m...glad. I feel like I just got a weight off my chest,” she admitted.

“Atta girl!” Michael encouraged, shaking her playfully. Natalie laughed and wiped away a few tears.

“We’re very proud of you, Natalie. You make sure you find someone who treats you well,” Gabriel commented. She just nodded appreciatively.

“Oh gosh, I’ve got a little more than ten before the girls start showing up,” Natalie stood, looking at her watch. “Thank you two again for the unplanned therapy session.”

“No problem, Gingersnap. Kristi will see you on Tuesday- either I’ll take her or my delightful brother will. Either way, see you around!” Michael waved at her, opening the door up for Gabriel to walk through, who nodded his head at her with a soft smile.

“Well, I must say, I’m impressed. She’s been having this internal battle over that guy for weeks, now,” Gabriel stuck his hands in pockets as they walked back down the stairs. “And you just solved her problem in what? 15 minutes?”

“What can I say? I’m a people person,” Michael’s eyes swung to the ceiling.

“You took a long time to delete one contact.”

Michael’s easy smile turned forced when he held the front door open for Gabriel.

“Michael…”

“I may have made an addition to her phone contacts in replacement of her awful ex-boyfriend,” he hummed as they strolled to one of the park benches.

“Who’s phone number?” Gabe rubbed his temples with new stress. Michael sat and tapped his knees.

“Well, you see. My brother Stanley sometimes drops Kristi off at dance for me.” “Oh my God.”

“As bewildered as I am by Natalie’s liking to my aloof and antisocial brother over me, the chemistry between them is undeniable as it is disgusting. I may have put in a couple of heart emojis after his name as well.”

“Michael, the poor girl’s messy breakup is no time to play matchmaker.”

“Just you wait, they’ll be all over each other in no time,” Michael hummed dismissively. They sat watching families walk out of the rec center, some of the kids still in their swimsuits from the pool in a moment of tranquil silence, before both men opened their mouths.

“Gabe, I was wondering-”

“I’ve been meaning to ask-”

They froze, looking at each other with wide eyes, and then laughed. Michael put up his hands in surrender.

“You first, you first,” he said, and he swore Gabe’s cheeks turned a little red.

“Well,” the teacher said, folding his hands. “I’ve been meaning to ask you if you’d like to get dinner sometime this week.”

Michael’s mouth opened and a small squeak came out. Well, he wasn’t expecting that. Gabriel’s face went from sheepish to mortified in a minute, putting up all his defenses.

“I mean! It’s okay if you don’t, I certainly don’t want to be too forward if you don’t...i-if you-” he sputtered, and Michael snatched one of his hands.

“Gabriel,” he laughed a little too loudly. “Gabe. I’d love to get dinner. I was just surprised, ‘cause I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Gabe looked confused for a moment, until a moment of clarity seemed to cross his mind his shoulders relaxed, and he giggled.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah! And you ruined all my fun, thanks a lot,” Michael teased him, sniffing indignantly. In his mind, a crowd roared and champagne bottles were opened in celebration. Gabriel wanted to ask him to dinner.  

“My sincerest apologies, then. Have you ever been to Richter’s out by the country club?” Gabe asked, waving to a young boy in one of his classes, walking into the rec center.

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s mediterranean food, if you like that. I haven’t actually… been there, but Google tells me it’s good!”

“Whatever you like is fine by me,” Michael smiled. The worry on Gabe’s face evaporated and he grinned.

“That’s great! I mean, that’s- that’s really great. It’s a date, then?” he beamed at Michael. It was contagious. He smiled back.

“It’s a date.”

“It’s a date! Not a visit to Guy Fieri’s house!” Michael whined, digging through his closet. Zadkiel pouted behind him, holding up a tacky Hawaiian shirt Michael had worn once, just once to a costume party.

“What? You wanted my help, didn’t you?” Zad rolled their eyes, shoving the shirt back on the rack.

“I like green, green’s an alright color, right?” Michael held up a forest green polo, trying to make himself believe that the color was remotely acceptable with his skin tone. Zadkiel took one look at it and raised an eyebrow. Michael put it back. “Fine! How nice is Richter’s, anyways?”

“Hmm. Google says “casual neat.””

“That’s specific.”

“Think like, you’re visiting Grandma’s house but her neighbor is cute,” Zadkiel said thoughtfully.

“That’s even more specific!” he cried, but dug through his closet nonetheless. After some digging, he pulled out a few shirts, piecing them together until his brain liked what it saw. “I think I’m onto something here,” he grinned. Shoving Zadkiel out of his room, he threw on the outfit and tossed open the door dramatically. Zad stood against the wall and blinked, mildly impressed.

“That’s the one,” they said, and Michael agreed. Admiring the ensemble in the mirror, Michael felt proud of himself. A simple pair of khakis, a short-sleeved, and blue button up shirt. Michael felt glowing.

“Blue’s my color,” he decided. “What time is it, Zad?”

“5:47.” “Time to roll out.”

“I’m surprised you might actually be on time,” they shrugged as Michael squeezed past them and kneeled down, pulling on his boots.

“Implying that punctuality is an issue with me?” Michael inquired, yanking his laces tight. Zadkiel scoffed, leaning against the wall.

“I can think of a number of dates where you got there an hour later than planned.”

“It was a mistake! I had misread! I-” Michael dug out his phone and very quickly read the text from Gabriel, just to be sure. He put it away and jabbed an accusatory finger at Zad. “Do not distract me. I have a date to catch.”

“Have fun, Romeo,” they waved as Michael threw on his jacket and rushed for the door.

“Don’t leave my door unlocked!” he called over his shoulder as he closed the front door behind him and fast-walked through the apartment halls and down the stairs.

Michael must’ve checked his hair ten times in the mirror while he drove to Richter’s, trying to make sure it had that perfect wave that his previous girl and boyfriends always seemed to like. Yeah, he knew about Richter’s. It was a place he recalled several of his coworkers at the health center getting dinner at while Michael went home on his own or to Kristi’s house. Fine by him. Sometimes he preferred the little girl’s company to the people he worked with. It was like work followed them everywhere, the way they talked and talked about the magic of exercise and kale. There were a million more interesting topics in the world to talk about, and Michael had been through a million and one with Kristi.

Okay, less than a million, she didn’t understand taxes at all.

Michael also knew that a part of his excitement was from just going out at all on the weekends. Sure, he had Zadkiel and Stan, but they were his siblings. They had seen him naked and when he had braces and they just knew way too much. Besides, Michael frowned, he could only talk to Stan for so long before both of them ended up angry. That was the catch with patching a relationship back together. There were some scabs from Stan’s later days of high school that threatened to come back open when they got to sensitive subjects.

He shook away the thought as his car pulled into the Richter’s parking lot, silently congratulating himself, as he was three minutes early. Parking his car by the front, Michael admired the lights strung up around the front of the restaurant as he walked to the door. Gabe had chosen a good place.

Speak of the devil, the man himself was standing by the door when Michael stepped inside, and had a good moment to admire him. Gabriel’s hair was combed back, with the same lock of hair dangling in his face. He had overdressed, as Michael had come to expect, with a striped button up shirt under a grey sweater and slacks. His distracted expression focused when Michael walked in, and he broke into a smile.

“You beat me here,” Michael said before Gabriel could open his mouth. “I hate being beat.”

“I always have to be extra early, it’s something that comes in handy when you’re a teacher,” Gabriel said, mild surprise in his voice as the waitress lead them to a table by huge windows.

“I’m joking,” Michael snorted. Well, phooey. He was gonna have to break his habits of being fashionably late if they went on another date.

“Can I start y’all off with something to drink?” the waitress asked, her southern accent betraying the restaurant's mediterranean theme.

“I’ll have a strawberry lemonade,” Michael answered.

“Coffee, please,” Gabriel smiled kindly at the waitress. When she left, Michael gave him a quizzical look.

“Coffee? At six in the evening?”

He flushed, huffing defensively, “I like coffee! I don’t give you grief for ordering strawberry lemonade.”

“If any place has it, I get it,” Michael insisted, pausing. “Wait- you’ve had it before, haven’t you?” Gabriel shook his head, and Michael balked. “That’s a sin, Gabriel.”

“Is not having strawberry lemonade a deal breaker for you, then?” Gabe joked.

“Yes!”

“Oh my goodness,” Gabriel stuck his face promptly in his hands as Michael stopped their waitress and requested a second strawberry lemonade, smiling victoriously back at Gabriel. He would convert a nonbeliever to the magic of insanely sugary drinks. This date was going well.

“Drink and believe, Gabriel,” Michael pushed the glass towards him, little yellow umbrella sticking out the edge. His date finally caved, and picking up the glass, took a sip while Michael waited with baited breath.

“It’s sickeningly sweet,” Gabe commented, his neutral expression unchanging.

“Well, no wonder! You drink too much coffee is all,” Michael concluded and Gabriel hummed speculatively. That was no problem. If Gabe stuck around, he’d be consuming a lot of sweet drinks.

“If you worked around twenty four year olds for hours, you would too,” Gabe snorted, taking another sip of his drink.

“One is quite enough for me,” Michael smiled. “Unless you count my sibling in college. They’re basically a four year old who carries a knife.”

“I can’t imagine having siblings, and especially not knife wielding ones.”

“Oh, so you’re an only child?”

“Yes, it was just my mother and I growing up,” Gabriel smiled. “I got all the toys to myself.”

“And all of the attention, too,” Michael mused.

“Yes, all of the attention,” Gabe said, a blush creeping back on his cheeks. “I’m my mother’s number one.” “She sounds like a sweet mother.” “She really is,” Gabriel’s smile turned sad. “She was there for me when I was widowed, and has been helping me raise Chamuel ever since.”

The gears in Michael’s brain clicked into place as he almost dropped his drink. Of all the possibilities he had exercised, the idea that Gabriel had been widowed-

“We all ready to order here?” the waitress’ voice sounded like jingle bells, and Michael snapped to attention, trying to form words as Gabriel ordered some kind of sandwich. Michael feebly gave her his order, distracted as she took the menus away, and cleared his throat.

“I uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know-”

“Really, it’s okay,” Gabriel stopped him before he could start, smile sheepish. “She died about five years ago. Chamuel and I moved to be closer to my mother, and we’ve been a trio ever since.”

Michael breathed a sigh of relief as Gabriel, gracious Gabriel, recovered the conversation and went into details about his mother spoiling Chamuel “until her whole mouth is filled with cavities and she forgets her manners”.

“If only my little brother had been raised with those,” Michael smirked, and Gabriel laughed like he’d been raised beside Stan too. Michael couldn’t hold back an amused smile. The dinner was flavorful, and Richter’s was somewhere he’d certainly come back to, but Gabriel’s company made Michael never want to return the restaurant alone again. Strawberry lemonade, he had found, was much sweeter when there was someone to share it with.

“I think teaching old people yoga is a lot more entertaining than troubled teenagers, if I’m honest,” Michael explained, waving his fork around subconsciously. “Often, they fall asleep.”

“What do you do then? Do you wake them up yourself?” Gabriel pondered.

Michael shook his head, “I figured if they’re that relaxed, I’m doing something right. They typically wake themselves up after a few moments. What gets me is the positions they fall asleep in.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. We’re talking full pretzel-mode. And they’re out like a light!”

“They don’t hurt themselves, do they?”

“No,” Michael snickered. “You can count on the teenagers to get themselves hurt during yoga. Kristi is better than half of them.”

Gabriel smiled, “You teach her too then?”

Michael pulled out his phone and quickly went to his photos, finding the one with Kristi balanced in a handstand and showed it to Gabriel.

“I spend so much time at her house, I eventually run out of things to do,” Michael pushed his phone back in his pocket.

There’s one hobby that’s great for passing the time, you know,” Gabe hummed, trying to be subtle. What mattered was the poor man tried.

“I don’t own any yarn, Gabe. Or needles.”

“You can have mine.”

“You really are determined to get me to knit, aren’t you?” Michael laughed incredulously. Gabriel nodded, looking very sure of himself. There was no way Michael was getting out of that, that was for sure. He shook his head. “Alright, alright, I promise I’ll consider it.”

“Good enough for me.”

The two finished their dishes and sat for a while, chatting about the perks and downfalls of looking after kids all the time and the weather and what they did for fun in high school and how much a year’s worth of strawberry lemonade from Costco would cost. Gabriel loved the kindness in children, but the screaming drove him a bit nutty. Gabriel didn’t always live in the southwest but he loved the heat. Gabriel played trumpet in high school and was the valedictorian and thought the price for that much lemonade was far more than necessary.

Michael decided that he liked watching the sun from the window hit Gabriel’s eyes and the way his mouth twitched a smile whenever Michael told a corny joke- like he wanted to laugh but didn’t want to encourage him.

Michael paid for the bill before Gabriel could even see it  (making a note to himself to check for more places with strawberry lemonade), and the pair left the restaurant with full stomachs and hearts.

Arizona in the evening was something Michael would never really get used to- except when it was smolderingly hot. Golden rays of sun ran over the mountains on the horizon and spilled down on their ever-growing suburban town. Not too bright to blind, but enough to give the illusion of an eternal summer. It was comfortably warm, perfect for Michael. He loved his little heaven, how the weather seemed to bend to his wishes and how the wind blew just enough to push people like Gabriel in his direction.

“Thank you for meeting me here. I would’ve never actually gone to a little place like this on my own,” Gabriel glanced back at the fairy lights in the window, a smile curling in his cheek as they made their way for the parking lot. “I probably would’ve kept visiting the same three restaurants I always do out of habit.”

“Well, I am more than happy to be your sense of adventure,” Michael, mindlessly swinging his arms. “Be sure to let me know if you’re ever feeling adventurous again, ‘kay?” He added a wink for good measure. Gabriel snorted.

“Sure thing, Michael. You have a good night,” he held eye contact with Michael for just a moment more before turning towards the park and walking off, Michael still waving with what was probably a big, stupid grin on his face.

He got in his car and turned the ignition, still grinning, and drove all the way back to his apartment complex before realizing that he hadn’t bothered with the air conditioning or radio, and was sweating in his nice shirt.

He fumbled with the keys and popped open the door to his apartment, making a note to himself to get into something that didn’t smell like Mediterranean and sweat, and found Zad waiting for him, on the phone.

“Yeah he just got home and- oh my god Raph he got laid. He’s covered in sweat.”

Michael’s eyes bugged out a bit. “Wh- I did not!”

“Raph is now lecturing you about sleeping with strangers and STD’s and- Raph, he can’t hear you! I’ll put you on speaker,” Zad rolled their eyes.

“No, don’t! I didn’t get laid. Raph I didn’t get laid!” Michael yelled at the phone, groaning as he made a beeline for his bedroom, ignoring Zadkiel’s cackling.

He put on a fresh T-shirt and rinsed his face at the sink with a happy sigh, when he heard his phone buzz on his bed. Perking up, Michael almost ran to the phone, chest filling with delight.

“Texting so soon, Gabriel?” he laughed to himself, before seeing the notification and pouting, almost disappointed.

[6:17] Mr. Lange: Called to a meeting tonight. Can u come over and watch her?

That was the Langes, Michael thought, tapping out a response. Always gone. He’d bring Mac n Cheese and drive over to their house in an hour.

Until then, he’d just lie with Zad and torture them with excruciatingly detailed accounts of Gabriel’s physical attributes. Michael smiled. Revenge was sweet.

[miniskirtday]

Response to AMA.

A few days ago I received an AMA. I responded that I wanted to take some time to think about it. Unfortunately, tumblr seems to have deleted the post! [GRRR] As I don’t remember the name of the one who asked, I am going to post here. I am paraphrasing the question to protect the sensitivity of the question [& I don’t remember the exact words. :-)] But first, to the original author: I’m terribly sorry I wasn’t more careful w/ your AMA. How do I encourage my wife to be more engaging sexually?

The original question was more specific to many ideas that I write about in my feed, but since I’m making this open to everyone I am making it a bit more general.

The “too long; didn’t read” version is this: I can only tell you about my journey. I have tips & resources at the bottom that I hope can help you better. At least they did for us.

Here is why that question is hard for me. If I were to go back in time to a younger me & tell me just how damaging my thoughts on sex were to my marriage, I’m not so sure I would believe myself. I had to hit a pretty hard low in order for the truth to hit me. I had to come to the realization that marriage is hard & I have to be just as proactive & engaged in working to build it as he was. I had to make myself realize that serving my husband visually, sexually, and physically was a ministry of service to him, our marriage, & then to myself.

It wasn’t immediate. It took time before my husband began to have a desire to serve me & my needs for emotional & spiritual connection. It wasn’t until that healing began that I could properly express my desires for him to step up & lead the family in the way that I & the children needed him to.

For some time, I worked HARD to serve him w/ little of my needs met in return. It’s tough work to kill it in the gym & lead a healthy lifestyle. It’s tougher to do that & raise young children. To add to that the time & energy to shave my legs daily & dress in ways that were visually appealing to him was a massive task. But all of that & then to give my body to him as well? There were days I wondered if it was worth it at all.

Now I know that YES! It IS worth it! Once hubby & I were communicating in love [& not yelling] we realized we work together quite well as a team. He leads the family as we need him to [including spiritually], & he seeks to meet my needs for our emotional connection. I seek to be a #VisuallyGenerousWife for him. As a family we are leading a more fit & healthy life which is great as we have support & encouragement w/ each other.

But I still have to work at sex. A lot. It is hard to push out distractions of the day some times. I have to force myself to learn & discover sex. While it has gotten SO much easier to enjoy [& I do enjoy it], it still doesn’t come as naturally as it does him. His drive is just much higher. I also had a LOT of garbage anti-sex rhetoric when I was younger [which I have ranted on in past posts]. It took SO much work for me to relax & begin to explore my sexuality w/ my hubby. But I learned so much when I finally did.

Honestly, one of the things that freaked me out at first but ended up being such a blessing, was when we made a rule together that basically said “In me, or on me.” I wanted to be a part of his every orgasm to better understand his drive. I knew he masturbated & it irritated me but mostly because I didn’t understand his need for release 3+ times a week. The first few times were awkward & near embarrassingly painful. I was terrible at providing visual stimulation & just laid there quiet & motionless [Please wives, don’t EVER do that!]. He felt just as awkward as I did. But we soon realized that I didn’t want to just be present, I wanted to be engaged & he NEEDED me to me engaged even if it was as simple as a smile & a wiggle of the hips. I found that I loved how much he adored me & looked forward to the times when I would tease him. He loved watching me dance & be provocative. It took SO LITTLE work on my part & we felt so much closer together as we cuddled in his post-masterbation-orgasm. On nights when I did want to have sex, that closeness was even sweeter.

If you don’t want to read about more “non-traditional” sex acts, please just skip this paragraph. The next step we took was when I let him pleasure himself w/ my legs. I work HARD to keep them looking good & I work HARD to keep them smooth. Yeah! Of course I want him to enjoy them! He’d better enjoy them every day for the work I put into them!! But especially on the days when I don’t want sex! It was such an easy next step as it required nothing more then what I was already doing, keeping my legs pleasurable. He did the work & we shared in the beautiful bonding after. [It took a while to go from ‘this is kind of weird’ to ‘this is really kinky & really hot that my hubby gets so excited about me’]. Another example. If you were to go back to me just before I got married & that me was to be told “You are going to absolutely adore the sexual pleasure your husband gives your ass that you are actually going to excitedly long for it” I can promise you I would’ve been so freaked out that I would’ve run away & never married. The abusive religious stigma that was my sexual education would’ve parallelized me even thinking about such a “degrading” act. Instead, it started w/ a post-gym-squat-challenge massage that felt amazing & I wanted more. 6 months later, I was craving his touch on my cheeks as we moved into exploratory. A YEAR & 9 months after the massage that it was sexual & the lies of my past were shattered when I said “How have we missed out on this for so long?!”

Here’s the thing, going from my “Good girls don’t do that” to “sex is fun” to “#MarriedSexRocks” to “Including non-traditional sex which can be delightful!” isn’t small steps. I don’t think there is any way you could have convinced the younger me to make those leaps. It absolutely is, in my opinion, “a journey of a thousand miles begins w/ one step.” I could NOT HAVE EVER allowed such things to happen if I didn’t absolutely trust my hubby, & it took us a lot of time, effort, & hard work to build that relationship to that point.

Back to the original question: How do I encourage my wife to be more engaging sexually? First, realize that women don’t have the same sex drive as men. Rude jokes, crude statements, & lewd behavior doesn’t work on us. The VAST majority of us need to have an emotional connection.

Second, if a woman doesn’t feel emotionally, financially, & physically secure, it is going to be harder for her to open up & relax. Establish trust & work to meet her needs. Trust me. This isn’t easy. This is hard. This is a lot of work. But it is worth it. The bonus, this is essentially a HUGE step of foreplay for a woman. Third, talk about sex freely. Get over the embarrassment. Have honest conversations about what you each want. Don’t be pushy, but be honest.

Fourth, seek help from people who have made it real priority in their life to deal w/ these kinds of topics & advice. There are a ton of great materials out there. As a Christian, these are the ones that helped me the most. For Books Sheila Gregoire - The Good Girl's Guide to Great Sex Dr. Douglas E. Rosenau - A Celebration of Sex Francis & Lisa Chan - You & me forever [I adore this book! Great for the spiritual connection that encourages spouses to be spiritually active] Kevin Leman - Sheet Music: Uncovering the Secrets of Sexual Intimacy in Marriage [Another I love] Tim Kimmel - Grace Filled Marriage: The Missing Piece [This helped us both through a rough patch; the timing was perfect for us on this one.] For blogs http://forgivenwife.com/ she speaks to my situation & does so far better than I could. https://www.hotholyhumorous.blogspot.com/ Parker has an amazing talent for dealing w/ women's sexual issues. She is so encouraging. http://www.the-generous-wife.com/  & www.the-generous-husband.com are both excellent sources of information & encouragement. Paul & Lori also run themarriagebed.com which I am a HUGE fan of. If you follow me on Gab or Twitter, I post/repost about them all the time. For Sex exploration http://www.christianfriendlysexpositions.com/ is a great resource for position ideas. http://www.marriagebed.tips/ gives excellent advice on things to try in bed. I hope that helps you some. May God heal your relationship & bring insane amounts of pleasure to your marriage bed. Edit & Update: Maurine made a great comment on Gab. “Sometimes it is simple things like good hygiene, doing chores so she has energy. Date nights...“ That is so good. Personally, I craved the emotional connection. I was ok w/ date nights happening infrequently & didn’t mind it being a cheap restaurant & a movie. But now, our monthly date nights are things that I really look forward to because we connect on so many more levels. Also, when hubby does chores off my to do list, that is sexy. :-)

[watermelonpp]

2020: Year of Redemption

Had my first cigarette of 2020. This is probably gonna be my Most Important Post of the Year (or Decade, or A Very Long Time, Lord knows I don’t post on here quite a lot anymore).

Point is: I’m happy, healthy, and alive. 

Where do I stat?

1. So it started off from Her. First off, let me say how bloody embarrassed I am of my behavior. Of how clingy and possessive and selfish I have been. 

I’ve been hung up on Her for a long time and for as long as that, I mistakenly thought the fact that I held on to Her is because I wanted closure and that I am good person. Turns out I’m just as a terrible friend post-friendship as I am during.

But the Revelation comes from Her post. 

She’s happy, y’ll.

She’s happy, outwardly happy and my chest clenched  upon reading that. I always get overwhelmed emotionally reading Her post, because we didn’t end well and I was so worried about her and I will always wanted to be the one by Her side.

But god, She’s doing well. And may be it was the narcissistic part of me (and for the uglier explanation: the ‘hopeful’ part of me) thought she needed me for that. I am an embarrassment for thinking that because She has always been stronger than me and She has always know what’s good for her and She is ruthless about her decision. If she decided that cutting me out of Her life was the best idea, I should’ve listened to her.

I always thought she was having a difficult time just because I only read sporadic vents on her Tumblr and I took that to be the Whole Truth. And as someone who now Only Post On Tumblr When She is Sad which is the reason behind her Tumblr being So Deserted, I didn’t think to put two and two together. What a colossal embarrassment I was, thinking I know better. 

I decided I would leave her alone entirely now because, duh, it’s what’s best for Her. This decision came way too late, because I’m the biggest idiot in the universe. It comes a lot easier now that I know that She’s happy and She has someone who loves her and She loves them back. And She is now a bloody artist- oh my god, She is an artist like She’s always said she would be. Why do I even doubt Her. Me being toxic was why we drifted apart and I thought me trying to reconcile is a way to show goodwill, but no, I was just being new kind of toxic. Idioso.

I realized now, embarrassingly late, that I’ve been an asshole trying to contact her ever since we drifted apart. I really hope me leaving her alone from now on could repent that.

Do I fear that I would never find love like her? Super, but it’s not her burden to bear.

Do I still hope we would be in contact some days? I don’t think I could stop ever wishing that, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.

This decision happened on the day I read Her post and I decided on it somberly and sombrely. I didn’t throw my fist and cry a tears of river and parts of me wished I did; because I would’ve done that back in the day. The fact that I didn’t makes me feel jaded and old. Sure, I am older now and I’m more equipped to let this go. But god, do I wish I don’t feel this old.

But I have a lot to make up for. And I rather hope she understands that this is an apology, if she ever thinks of me again.

(The best and healthiest thing would be to wish she never thought of me again, she probably doesn’t. Me? I’m still working towards that)

--

2. I had an email account which I backed up my writings, drafts, and every comments I’ve ever received on. Today I found out that email has been deactivated, and it was such a hollowing feeling.

Everything of My Youth was in that email. Exteen is dead now and there’s no way for me to retrieve it from there. She deleted everything that has to do with our original stories on Tumblr, FF, and her entire LJ (and yet it took me this long to not realised she wanted me out, oh my god), so that’s off either.

I was feeling really lost, finding that out. I haven’t write for a decade and I have made my decision to leave That Part of My Life behinds so this should’ve been the best thing. But I feel blindsided and I felt like a part of my life has been yanked away from me.

It just feel like my coming-of-age years are now erased. No trace left. And boy, were those the worst years. I should’ve been grateful some sadistic bitch up in the sky (and Microsoft) force my hand to let it go, but I didn’t like it. I felt like I lose a part of myself.

My identity for a decade, the experience that raised me: poof, gone. I don’t get a chance to look back at it fondly or sadly. It’s just plain gone.

I don’t think people who know me now would understand, ‘cause it’s been a decade since I’ve written and people don’t know me in that context anymore. But at times, it really was The Thing that kept me alive. I was young, scared, lonely, resentful, and I write. It brought me to one of the the Love of My Life. And now it's gone.

Now I just feel like a husk of who I was, only older and more jaded. God, I feel so sold out. Even at the height of my depression, I’ve never had this much of identity crisis.

I appreciate that I have my life under control now, that I’m an actual, hand-to-god functioning adult. But I guess I miss that life like an adrenaline junkie misses climbing mountain free solo. I romanticise being Jack Kerouac riddled with alcohol, caffeine and bad decision; writing to give life some meaning.

So I’m gonna try to let go of that now, in 2020.

Yay.

3. Two hours after moping and being all over the place about my Loss Youth and  Loss Manuscripts I managed to retrieved some of my writing back from Way Back Machine.

The internet really is written in ink.

There’s still a lot lost, but I don't care. These published works are the most important things to me and now I have it back, and I feel more grounded.

I wouldn’t have the stuff She writes back, but that’s not my work, and if I do then that would be quite a shitty part of Letting Go.

This seems like a good compromise. 

I got my best works with me. I’m gonna try to find my footing as a creator again, and I’m not gonna take what isn’t me or mine.

Yay, 2020.

(Oh, and keep up quitting cigarette) 

(Yay, 2020)

[anisanotanita]

a thousand thoughts #3

Wednesday 7th June 2017, home.

I wished everyone a happy Ramadan a little too late on Facebook. I was busy with work in the lead up to the month, and was also adjusting to a Ramadan in a new home, without the warmth and laughter of my family- my fathers quiet disdain at the dinner table at four girls talking over one another with food still in their mouths, or the one glass of water that we passed around because we were too lazy to get our own glass- plus it meant less dishes to wash. It’s these silly things like that I miss the most.

This is the first Ramadan with my husband, our first Ramadan together as a couple. I had really been looking forward to breaking our fast together, praying together, doing Ramadan-y things together- the inner happiness and peace that Ramadan brings is real and it makes me warm and fuzzy inside and I guess a little bit corny- I never want to be ungrateful for any of this.

We’ve been testing out pre-cooked meals as a cheaper and more efficient way to eat, especially during Ramadan. It goes under the category of grown up things new couples do to try to get their life together. The youtube videos by “Fit Couple Cooks” are actually great for other couples who aspiring to be Fit Couples who Cook. The idea is that you do all your cooking at once for the week ahead, pop them in containers and refrigerate them. The picture you paint in your head is this: you come home after a long day to food that’s already prepared and simply needs to be warmed up. You then have a hearty conversation over the dinner table with your other half, and with your plastic container scraped out and finished, you sit your elbows on the table, clasp your hands under your chin and smile lovingly into each others eyes at how wonderful and organised marriage and life and everything in between is.

I can say that this has happened and I can also say that we made a container too much of the minced beef for the lasagne. We thought that if we forgot about it for long enough it would eventually disappear. It didn’t. There’s a jar of double cream that I was supposed to use for scones, but I’ve had no time to make the scones and now I don’t want to open the cream to avoid the feeling of guilt when I realise that it has also gone off. There’s frozen fish that I bought an embarrassingly very long time ago that I haven’t touched because I don’t know how to cook it, 1.5kg of frozen chicken wings (why did I buy that again?) and 2 other containers of food that my mum sympathetically packed for us when we slept over the other day because all that my mum remembers of me was of how often I was never in the kitchen cooking. So this utopia of pre-cooked meals has been put on pause, while we figure what to do with our fridge.

Such a pathetic problem to have.

It was only after our little trifle into organised meals that I finally had a chance to catch up with what the rest of the world was doing (yes pre-cooking meals took up a lot of my mental capacity, it was as if I was learning a new language. Yeah it is laughable, but cooking is just blurgh to me. Bluuuurrrrgh).

I go on Facebook to: 

(Insert generic Ramadan Mubarak post here) (Make sure that people know I’m still alive) (Project to the world that I’m not one of those women who suddenly become so busy when they become somebody’s wife that they’ve got no time for friends or for nuanced social commentary of the world)

I scroll through everyone else’s “Ramadan Mubarak!” posts and quickly end up watching a few videos. The videos play automatically as you scroll down your feed. I scroll and a bomb explosion goes off in a video. I scroll and a group of women are walking through drought-stricken Somalia. I scroll and a young Iraqi man is being dragged away from the graveyards, pleading with his brothers to leave him alone with his dead wife. I scroll and the King of Saudi Arabia put his arms around Donald Trumps shoulders and adorns him with a gold necklace. 

It was like my fingers sliding down on my keypad had unleashed a wave of destruction and evil.  

Then I enter on a few Muslims having a group discussions about the latest controversy in the Muslim community. I sit quietly, nobody sees me, but I take it all in. I open my mouth, but decide not to speak.

If Ramadan was a spirit then it’s been drained out of my body and rinsed in the sink. A week off social media and I feel like I’ve just been born into the world. I’m looking around and stumbling, I feel confused and alone. 

I shut my laptop, and push my chair back from the desk. I sit on my chair, now at a distance from my desk, with a slim metal square lying calmly on top of it. There in my laptop lies the contents of all my deepest fears and grief.

I need to do some work for a new magazine I’m helping out with. A magazine to elevate younger Muslim voices. And it’s working, it’s gaining traction with a lot of people. I see a 12 year old boy reading the magazine after taraweh. He liked it. The kids are alright. Actually, they’re more than alright- and that gives me hope. 

So I pause for a moment with my finger on the edge of it, and slowly open it again.

(Open new tab)

No.

(Close tab with Facebook) (Open new tab with google drive)

Excel sheets may just look like boxes with text in them but there is a definite satisfaction of seeing everything so neat and organised. Everything has its place. And if something is in the wrong box, you simply Control X and control C into the right box. Highlight to highlight something. Control B for importance. And if something doesn’t belong anywhere, you can press DELETE and you never have to worry about it again.

I imagine myself going to the balcony to make an announcement to the people passing by on the street.

“Greetings everyone!”

The street is packed with every kind of person and everyone looks up, the dog on a leash looks up, even the baby in the pram looks up. With his dummy suspended from his mouth, even he knows that an important announcement is going to be made. 

The whole world comes to a standstill.

“My people! I have come to bear good news! I have just completed my google document!!! THE WORLD IS IN ORDER AGAIN!!!!!!!!!”

The crowd goes wild with excitment, the men throw their top hats in the air. Colourful streamers rain down from the sky. The baby is giggling and waving its hands up and down . Everyone is celebrating and crying with pure joy, strangers hug each other, and everyone is looking back up at my balcony- cheering me on, whistling, pumping theirs fists into the air, clapping.

I go back inside with a grin on my face, waving as I close my balcony door. Brb just gonna continue saving the world from my desk.

The sound from the outside world is sealed shut and everything is silent. 

Just me and my own thoughts again.