#when I get the urge to scroll or app hop I just take it as a sign to get off my phone now

[likedaylighht]

THIS ASK WAS SPONSORED BY SEAT GEEK

Yes! Go you, deleting tiktok! The app is so fucking gross and addicting, I also felt so much better when I finally nuked mine. You and I are venturing into 2024 with more braincells.

SEAT GEEK ANON!!!! Love that we are sharing a brain cell deleting tiktok. Truly the best part is realizing how much I DONT miss it. When I’ve deleted tumblr on occasions (for similar brain rot mindless scrolling reasons) I find the muscle memory of going to the app so strong but with tiktok I didn’t even miss it one bit once it was deleted. Feel so much freer 🙌🏼

[seoltzuki]

Persona

jihyo x gn reader

fluff, very unserious, suggestive (kinda), not proofread

wannabe player jihyo

You know it’s not the smartest idea, but it feels like it’s the only option to shake things up.

Nayeon’s been urging you all evening, saying, "Just get on a dating app, y/n. It’s easier to find someone who wants to hook up on there. And better yet, with no strings attached since you’re so allergic to falling in love and settling down."

You huffed and rolled your eyes. No need for her to be so… brutally honest. And so caved in. You downloaded the app and started scrolling through it. You swiped on pretty faces, ignoring those seeking long-term relationships, until one profile grabbed your attention.

Despite its douchy and fuckboy-ish vibe, you couldn’t help but be drawn to this person’s profile.

Jihyo.

Her photos showcased her with well-defined abs glistening under gym lights, another captured her in full hockey gear, while another showed her casually sporting a backward cap, adding a touch of laid-back douchiness.

Let’s not talk about her bio, which ew by the way… You cringed as you read it,

6’1 when I stand on my money.

ps: my couch pulls out, but I don’t when I’m strapped up👅💦

You gag at this but still swipe right. It’s clear she’s looking for the same casual fun as you are. And as expected, you both match, confirming your mutual interest in a no-strings-attached connection.

You begin texting Jihyo, and the conversations quickly become flirty, bordering on explicit. This back-and-forth continues for a week until Jihyo takes the initiative to set up a date to meet in person.

She suggests grabbing a quick bite at a fast food joint near her place. You find the idea crass and somewhat unappealing; after all, why bother with a lame meal when you could just head straight to her place for some action?

Nonetheless, you agree. Jihyo manages to sway you with another teasing message: “You’ll need energy if you wanna keep up with me, angel ;)”

The day arrives, and despite knowing it’s just a one-time thing, you find yourself oddly excited. You debate whether it’s worth dressing up for the occasion, knowing you’ll likely never see her again after tonight, but you make the effort anyway.

As you commute to the shitty fast food joint, a text from Jihyo pops up: “hey! I’m already here. I’m gonna be waiting for you at the bus stop, no rush :)”

You frown at first, but then a small smile creeps onto your face. It’s strange to receive such a normal and sweet text from her.

You feel a flutter in your stomach, but you quickly dismiss it. This is just a one-time thing, you remind yourself, as you gather your things to to hop off the bus.

Stepping onto the sidewalk, you glance around, expecting to spot Jihyo. However, she’s nowhere in sight until you hear your name being called. You look past the man who was hiding Jihyo, and as she steps forward, you realize she’s even shorter than you had imagined.

"I hope the ride here wasn’t too bad. Ready to eat?" She smiles wide, and you can't help but notice how much cuter she is in person than you had imagined.

You nod, following her into the restaurant. She walks with a pep in her step, and you can't help but admire how cute she looks in her baggy jeans, oversized shirt, and that damn backward hat. It's nothing like the pictures she had on her profile.

A cutie.

She orders and pays for both of you, and you can't help but slip out, "You must be really rich then."

She frowns, her lower lip popping out in a pout. "I mean-" she starts to explain, but you cut her off, "your bio. 6'1 when I stand on my money, remember?" You tease, then casually munch on your fries.

Her eyebrows arch in surprise, and a blush tinges her cheeks. "Gosh, I forgot about that. I’m sorry, it’s-"

"You’re cute."

Her blush deepens, and she adjusts her hat, offering you a shy smile.

As the conversation flows, you find yourself enjoying Jihyo’s company more than you expected. Her easygoing nature and genuine laughter put you at ease, and you start to forget about the initial awkwardness of the situation.

You notice her little quirks—the way she looks incredibly angry when she takes a delicious bite of her hamburger, that big smile that makes her eyes almost disappear, the way she gives you her full attention when you speak… It’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the flutter in your stomach.

She then offers you to come over for some dessert, and you can't say no. After all, this is what you originally came for anyway.

The walk to her place is short, and when you arrive, you brace yourself for the typical "fuckboy" house—a mess, dishes piled in the sink, and a less-than-ideal bathroom. However, when she welcomes you inside, you're taken aback. The place is pristine and beautifully decorated. You start to wonder if her dating profile was all just a facade.

You prepare yourself for the "dessert" as she instruct you to get comfortable. Taking a seat on the couch, you anticipate what's to come, but to your surprise, she returns with a tray to the coffee table in the center of the living room. The tray has an array of treats—brownies, cookies, and mochi—and hold up, are they homemade too!?

"I’ve made them for you! For tonight! Have a taste!" She says with pride, her smile wide and chest puffed out.

You take a cookie and bite into it, moaning at the delicious taste. It's so good that you kind of want to murder her for being such a good baker, but also for messing up your flow.

You guys should’ve been in bed by now.

She flops beside you, still smiling. “It’s so good,” you remark, savouring the last bite of the cookie.

“Yeah? I’m glad you like it, wasn’t sure what you were gonna be into,” she says, her eyes fixed on you.

As you meet her gaze, you sink further into the cozy couch. She removes her hat, allowing her curls to cascade, and you're taken aback by her beauty.

She runs her fingers through her hair before settling in, her arm draped over the back of the couch, hand supporting her chin. She continues to watch you, and you feel your cheeks flush under her gaze.

"I don’t think I’ve had the chance to tell you how beautiful you are, y/n," Jihyo says softly, her eyes scanning your face.

She bites the inside of her cheek and briefly lets her eyes drift down to take you all in. You smile shyly, noticing the subtle shift in her demeanor. Perhaps the "fuckboy" from her profile is finally making an appearance now.

Your hands sink into her sofa, and you hum, "This isn’t a pull out couch."

Jihyo’s eyes linger on yours, a teasing glint dancing in them.

"Never owned a pull out couch," she responds, her tone low and suggestive, "but I do have the strap."

You roll your eyes, but the shiver that runs down your spine betrays your true feelings. She smiles softly again, her gaze locked with yours as you edge closer to her.

"You're too crude, Jihyo. It’s not charming," you tease, allowing your fingers to trace a pattern along her arm, the tension between you growing.

"I may be crude, but hey, having a pretty person right beside me makes up for it, don't you think?" she whispers, edging closer. Her breath grazes your lips, igniting a surge of excitement within you.

And then, with a delicate touch, her lips meet yours in a tender, lingering kiss. The sensation is electric, your body melting into the moment as you get lost in the softness of her lips against yours.

A shared breath and she gives another kiss, deeper than the last. Her lips press against yours with a newfound urgency. You feel the softness of her touch as her hands slide to the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer.

A soft moan escapes your lips in response to the sensation, and she pulls back, breathless, her eyes locking with yours as the intensity of the moment hangs in the air.

“Y/n,” she starts, her voice gentle as she takes a deep breath to steady herself, “I know we’re both into the one-night stand thing, but I think I like you more than I should. And I know you should’ve been on your third orgasm by now, but for some reason, I can’t bring myself to sleep with you unless we go on, at least, two proper dates.”

You stare at her, surprised by her honesty. The air between you is charged with tension as you process her words. Despite the initial intentions of this encounter, you can’t deny the flutter of excitement in your chest at the thought of spending more time with her.

Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you reach out and gently cup her cheek, brushing your thumb against her skin. “Jihyo,” you say softly, “I feel the same way. I’d like that.”

A smile spreads across her face, relief evident in her eyes. “Really?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Really,” you confirm, leaning in to place a tender kiss on her lips. It’s a promise of what’s to come—a beginning rather than an end.

A relieved sigh escapes her lips as she leans back against the couch, holding your hand tightly.

“Let’s watch TV and finish the sweets?” she proposes, her voice tinged with shyness.

You smile warmly at her, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “Sounds perfect,” you say, feeling a rush of affection for her. “But I need the backstory behind that insane dating profile of yours.”

Jihyo chuckles, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Oh, that,” she says, running a hand through her hair. “Well, you see, I had a phase where I was tired of all the boring conversations on dating apps. So, I decided to spice things up a bit and I may have gone a little overboard with the whole ‘fuckboy’ persona.”

You giggle, intrigued by her. “It definitely caught my attention,” you admit.

She smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, well, I may have exaggerated a bit,” she confesses. “But hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

“Definitely,” you agree, squeezing her hand affectionately. “But I’m glad to see the real you now.”

With a warm smile, Jihyo leans in closer, her eyes sparkling with sincerity. “Me too,” she whispers, before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"However, I do give the best strap. No one can beat me to that and I mean it when I say I don’t pull out and-"

"Ew, you’re crude Jihyo!" you exclaim, playfully scolding her with a mock grimace.

Jihyo lets out a hearty laugh, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Hey, just keeping it real, sweetheart."

You may not be allergic to falling in love after all.

[mint-yooxgi]

Yan!web hacker jaehyun? Part 3?

Part One, Part Two

***

Over the past few weeks, Yoonoh has made you forget all about this Jae character. Not only has he been extremely kind, but funny and down to earth as well. The few dates you’ve gone out with him on have always left you smiling like a lovestruck fool, and whenever you think about him, you get an overwhelming urge to see him once more.

Currently, you find yourself on one of these dates now. The two of you had gone out to an outdoor botanical garden, walking hand and hand down the pathways as you took in the sights and scents of the flowers around you. You even managed to get some pictures in during the sunset... before the clouds moved in.

The rainstorm came on suddenly, drenching all those who were unlucky enough to get caught in it. Including the both of you. Only, you didn’t let it dampen your spirits, the two of you laughing all the way back to his car.

Sharing a glance at one another once your were in the safety (and dry interior) of his car, you both burst into another fit of laughter. 

“I’m soaked,” you manage to get out through your giggling.

“Me too,” he grins. A pause, until, “my place isn’t too far from here. We could head back there and dry off a little.”

“Sure,” a soft smile pulls at your features, “sounds good to me.”

Twenty minutes later and you’re pulling into his apartment complex, him leading you by the hand all the way to his front door. In the back of your mind, you cannot help but think how lucky you are that your very first match on that dating app just so happened to be him.

As soon as you step into his apartment, your eyes widen slightly. It’s so clean.

“Woah,” you say, voicing your thoughts almost subconsciously in the next second.

You see him grin, somewhat nervously out of the corner of your eye, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grin back at him, teasingly, “definitely not what I was expecting for a computer coder.”

He snorts, recalling one of the very first conversations you ever had with him when the two of you met in person, “I like to keep all my rodents in my room. You know, so they won’t get lonely.”

“Them, or you?” You quirk a brow. “Anyways, I hate to ask, but do you mind if I shower?”

“No,” at the way you motion to yourself, clothes still soaked from the rain, he clears his throat, “not at all.”

Twenty-five minutes later and you find yourself heading back out to his living room, one of his hoodies thrown over your body for extra warmth. You plop down on the couch beside him, noticing he seems to be looking at something on his phone, only to lock it and place it on the coffee table before you in the next second. At the way his eyes nearly bulge from his head as he takes in your appearance, you crack a smile.

“You did say I could wear anything of yours that I wanted,” you smirk, watching as his Adams apple bobs as he swallows.

He nods, mumbling how he’s going to go shower now before practically hopping from the couch and heading down the hallway.

You smile to yourself, pulling out your own phone from the pocket of the hoodie to scroll through instagram. Ever since you started going out with Yoonoh, you haven’t been as paranoid looking at your phone or going on social media. As far as you’re concerned, this Jae guy has been on the down-low, and honestly, was probably just one of your friends just trying to prank you.

Settling yourself further into the couch, you take a deep breath. A content hum escapes you as a comforting, familiar scent fills your nose. Teakwood has never smelt so good.

To you, Yoonoh is literally perfect. Sweet, charming, easy-going, likes to keep a neat place, plus he always smells so nice. You think you’re really starting to fall for him. It’s just a coincidence that his cologne just so happens to also be your favourite scent. A lot of guys wear it, so it’s not uncommon.

Continuing your ventures of scrolling through instagram, you notice you’ve just gotten a message from Neysha. Looks like she’s sent you a post about an upcoming fashion collaboration by one of your favourite artists.

‘OMG we have to get something!’ She types, to which you like right away, agreeing that you should get matching shirts or something.

Only, what you’re not expecting, is to hear Yoonoh’s phone ping as soon as you click the link Neysha’s just sent you.

Odd. You think to yourself as you scroll through the collection, clicking on certain items you like to take a closer look at them. Though, what’s strange is, every time you click on another link, his phone pings.

Thinking maybe one of his family members is trying to reach him in the event of an emergency, you sit forward on the couch. Just as you begin to think it weird that they don’t just call him if that’s the case, you see the notifications lining his screen. Your blood runs cold.

My Darling has opened a link: xxx

My Darling is looking at: xxx

My Darling is considering: xxx

You can hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears, your brow furrowed as you sit there, looking over his phone, then back at your own. Too many thoughts are running through your mind, but this feeling of dread creeping up your gut has you tapping a few things on your own phone with shaky fingers.

He’s not cheating on someone else with you, is he? Bile rises in your throat at the thought of being the other person in that situation. Except, that creeping suspicion in your gut is telling you it’s worse. Something much worse.

Sure enough, as you click into a specific site on your phone, the notification that pings on his own phone confirms your worse suspicions.

I should buy My Darling this: xxx

A hand comes up to cover your mouth as you stand on shaky legs. Your mind is spinning as you stumble out of his living room, balancing yourself precariously using his kitchen counter.

You don’t even hear him reenter the room until his concerned voice manages to reach your ears.

“What’s wrong?”

Turning your head, you see him standing in the entranceway to the living room. A towel is still wrapped around his shoulders as he pauses his movements of using it to dry his hair.

You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, your voice barely above a whisper, “Yoonoh isn’t your real name, is it, Jae?”

You should have realized it sooner. Hell, he told you he was a computer coder when you first met. Of course, it all makes sense now. It would be so easy for him to hack your browser and discover the sites you frequent and what items you have in any and all of your carts. 

“What are you talking about?” He chuckles, his whole body tensing ever so slightly. “Of course it is. Why would I lie about my name?”

Your conversation with Neysha that one night flashes through your mind and you can barely stomach your next thought. He bugged your phone.

“Did you enjoy it?” You take a shaky breath, and the smell of teakwood fills your nostrils once more, nearly causing you to collapse right then and there. You find enough strength to grip the material of his sweater. “Teakwood, huh? Was that an addition before or after the fact you learned it was my favourite scent?”

Tears line your vision, and your hands begin to shake. The weight of this entire situation is pressing down on your shoulders and you’re beginning to find it hard to breathe. Again, your mind swims with more thoughts, and the bitter taste of disgust settles on your tongue. Of course you matched with him as soon as you downloaded that dating app. He made it so.

“Would you please tell me what’s gotten you this upset?” He goes to take a step towards you.

“Don’t come any closer!” Throwing your hands out in front of you, the first of your tears begin to cascade down your cheeks. “Stop-”

Your voice catches in your throat as your gaze focusses on a piece of paper on the counter beside you. Through your blurry vision, you can just make out that it’s a list of some sort, but that’s not what makes your shaking deepen tenfold.

If you weren’t convinced before, the way that same familiar script from those damning notes stares back at you has a sob ripping from your throat. You turn your back to him, disgusted at the thought of even so much as looking at him right now. “I trusted you.”

Closing your eyes for the briefest of moments, you take a deep breath to steel your nerves. You don’t want to spend one more second in this apartment with him, and you’re not going to.

“Darling,” his voice right by your ear, so gentle and soft, startles you. You didn’t even hear him approaching. “I’m sorry, but this is for your own good.”

With that, your world goes black.

[drabbles-mc]

Protective Detail (1/?)

Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Shout-out to @masterlistforimagines ​ for encouraging me, and helping me brainstorm to write this fic based on This Post from @my-rosegold-soul ​ 😂👀😍 

Warnings: language, mentions of kidnapping, bruises

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: This is my first time writing for Nestor, so hopefully I do alright with that lol.  This is gonna be a multi-chap fic. So like??? Semi-slow burn in that regard. Stay tuned 👀👀 Also, Happy Thanksgiving if you celebrate. This year I'm thankful for Gino's braids 😂

Chapter Index

Taglist?? I’ve never written for Nestor so I don’t really have a list lol. But if you wanna get tagged in future chapters of this fic totally comment or message me or something and I’ll make sure it happens.

You huffed, rolling your eyes, “I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Papi,” you were standing on the opposite side of the table from your father, who was not looking amused at all with the attitude you were giving him.

“And I told you that you don’t get to make that call, mija,” his tone was level but you could see it in his eyes that he was not going to let you win this argument.

“You don’t need to do this,” you leaned forward onto the table, palms flat, “I’m fine.”

He eyed the bruise on your cheek, knowing that that was the only one he could see, but it was far from the only mark on you. It had been just short of a week since a group of men had tried to kidnap you. It came with the territory of being the daughter of a cartel leader, but it had never really hit that close to home before. Your father was shaken up, and understandably so. But every time he had brought up either getting you out of town for a little while, or setting you up with your own personal security, you forcefully shot down the idea.

“What was the point of teaching me how to defend myself if you’re just going to pack me up and ship me off the second things get a little rough?”

He raised one eyebrow, “A little rough? Mija, they tried to kidnap you.”

“And they failed.”

“I don’t want to push our luck. Why is that such a problem for you?”

“Because I’m too old to have a babysitter. And I sure as hell don’t want to owe any favors to Miguel fucking Galindo,” you rolled your eyes at the mere thought of it.

Your father sighed, knowing that you didn’t have much use for his business counterpart. He had never done or said anything directly to you to make you dislike him so much, but whatever vibe he put off in your direction wasn’t one that you liked, and you had never been good at pretending to like people if you didn’t. You could suck it up just enough to be civil, but nothing more. The fact that he would be the one supplying your security didn’t sit right with you.

“Why can’t one of your guys just stake out my house or something?” you tried to meet him halfway.

“They’re all busy dealing with everything that led to you getting kidnapped.”

“Almost,” you corrected.

He sighed, “Almost kidnapped. I know you aren’t happy about it, but my mind is made up. Besides, he said that he’s sending one of his best men.”

“If he’s one of the best why doesn’t Miguel want to keep him?” you finally collapsed in the chair across from your father, putting you both on the same level.

Your father smirked slightly, “Because he owes me a favor.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. You appreciated that as you got older, your father was more honest with you about everything within reason. It helped both of you for you not to be completely in the dark. For a long time, he worried it was going to make you more worried, but if anything, you appreciated knowing what kinds of things you were up against. You hated feeling unprepared more than anything else in the world.

“So, who is this mysterious, top-of-the-line babysitter that you have found for me?” you finally asked, conceding to what your father wanted.

Your father laughed and shook his head for a moment before calling out, “Nestor, come in here please.”

You turned your body in your chair so you could get a better look at the door. The door opened slowly and you couldn’t help but to raise your eyebrows as you took in the sight of the man who had just entered the room. You mentally went back through the few memories you had of Miguel and you realized that you had definitely seen this man before. He was never far if the Galindos were around. You’d never heard him speak, though—he had always been a silent presence. You definitely weren’t expecting him to be the person who got loaned out to you for the foreseeable future.

“I don’t think you two have ever officially met,” your father waved him over, “Nestor, this is my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, this is Nestor. He’s going to be keeping you safe for a while.”

You politely shook Nestor’s hand, understanding that this situation wasn’t his doing. You gave your father a pointed look, “I keep myself safe.”

He sighed, knowing that you got your stubbornness from him, “He’s going to help you, then.”

You could tell that Nestor was trying not to smile watching the two of you interact. He kept a fairly straight face but his eyebrows raised slightly as he took in how blunt you were with a man that he had grown to respect, and also fear.

“Do I at least get to stay in my own house?” you looked at your father.

He nodded, “Unless something else happens that makes that a bad idea, yes, you can stay in your house.”

“Thank you,” you nodded as you stood up out of your seat. You walked around the table and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Te quiero, Papi. I’ll talk to you later.”

He smiled, “Te quiero. Be safe.”

You laughed as you followed Nestor to the door, “How could I not at this point?” you nodded in Nestor’s direction.

The two of you exited your father’s house. Your face took on a confused expression as you looked for your car. It had been parked right outside your father’s front door and now it was nowhere to be found. You looked over at Nestor.

“Is my car being gone your doing?”

He shook his head, “Your father’s. He asked me to drive you so he had some of his men take the car back to your house.”

You sighed but didn’t say anything more as the two of you walked over to Nestor’s SUV. Granted, his car was much nicer than yours but that wasn’t the point. You wanted this to intrude on your life as little as possible and having him driving you around everywhere in his big flashy car wasn’t exactly in any of your plans.

Most of the drive passed in silence. You wanted to reach and turn the radio on but something in you said that Nestor wasn’t the kind of man who would be caught singing on the job. You looked out the window as you settled back into your seat more, fighting the urge to put your feet up on the dashboard.

“So, what’d you do to piss of Miguel and get put on babysitting duty?” you finally asked.

You looked over and saw his body tense up, “I’m not your babysitter.”

You chuckled, “Would you prefer that I tell people you’re my bodyguard?”

He took his eyes off the road for a moment so he could look over at you, “You don’t have to tell people anything about me.”

The sternness in his tone made you feel small and it caught you a little off-guard. It was going to be interesting to have him be a constant pair of eyes on you. You didn’t know how to feel about having someone who was essentially a stranger being stuck to you like glue.

Silence took over the car again and it stayed that way until he pulled into your driveway. You hopped out of the car, not bothering to wait for him to come and open the door for you. You caught a quick glimpse of his expression and there was the smallest of smiles on his lips for a moment before he went back to his stoic expression.

“I have no idea how this is supposed to work, Nestor,” you admitted honestly as you unlocked the front door, “Are you, like, living here with me now?”

He shrugged, “Would you prefer that?”

You swallowed hard as you crossed the threshold of your home. The impulsive hormonal part of your brain was screaming that you would most definitely prefer that. But you tried very hard not to let that part of you win out.

“I wouldn’t be sleeping in your bed with you, don’t worry,” he offered up with a chuckle.

You felt your face get hot and you tried to play it off, “I figured as much. Besides,” you smirked, “my dad would slaughter you.”

“I don’t doubt that at all.”

“I mean,” you awkwardly stood in your living room, feeling like you should be offering him something, “I have a guest room if you’d want to stay here. Not like it’s getting much use otherwise. Makes more sense than you constantly going back and forth.”

He nodded, not really giving off much emotion either way, “That’s fine. I can have someone bring some of my things by.”

You were about to tell him that he might as well go and pick his things up himself, but leaving you alone on day one would not look good for the whole “personal security” thing. Instead, you offered to give him a quick tour of the house. If he was going to have to protect you, he might as well know where everything was.

“You can hang out here while you’re waiting for your stuff,” you gestured to the living room, “I have every streaming service under the sun,” you grabbed two beers out of the fridge, “You allowed to drink on the job?”

He shook his head as he sat down on the couch, “I am, but I’m good. Thank you.”

You shrugged, tossing one bottle back into the fridge before opening one for yourself. You sat down on the opposite end of the couch from him and waited. You wanted him to choose something to watch, solely so you could try to figure out more of what kind of person you were dealing with. He picked up that you had started a game of chicken, and with a heavy sigh he reached forward and picked up your controller.

“You actually game with this or do you just use it to watch stuff?” he asked as he scrolled through your apps.

You laughed, “Not gaming like you’re thinking.”

The two of you were a few episodes deep into Community when Nestor’s phone started ringing. He looked down and stood up, heading towards the door without bothering to answer the call. When he came back inside, he had a bag in each hand and walked past you to the guest room without a word. You sat on the couch, fidgeting slightly with your hands. All you could think about was the fact that you had no idea how this was supposed to work. It wasn’t like the two of you were friends and he was going to be crashing with you for a while. You knew nothing about him and now he was living at your house. You had no idea how to have a full conversation with him, which was rare. You didn’t know what it was about him that made all of your words get caught in your throat.

A few minutes later he came back out and sat down on the couch again. Silence filled the space between you outside the noise from the television. You glanced down at the time on your phone and right as you did, your stomach growled.

“So, do you eat?” you asked.

He looked over at you, one eyebrow raised, “I’m only allowed one meal a week.”

You laughed, face heating up over the entire interaction, “Am I allowed to order off Grubhub? Or is that a security no-no?”

“If you want to order something we can go pick it up,” it was his nice way of saying that delivery wasn’t an option for the time being.

“The whole point of ordering in, is not having to leave the house. Aren’t I safer if I’m here anyway?”

“And having strangers come here all the time?”

“Why don’t you just tell me all the things I can and can’t do?” you rolled your eyes.

“It’s not my decision,” he was firm, but his voice didn’t get loud, “It’s your father’s. I get you don’t like this but there’s no getting out of it now.”

“I’m sorry,” you offered up honestly, “I’m just…not used to being on a leash.”

He chuckled, “I see that.”

You stood up with a sigh and made your way over to the kitchen, “I’ll pull something together.”

“You really don’t want to leave the house that much?” you could hear the amusement in his voice.

“I really don’t,” you perused your cabinets, not making eye contact as you asked him, “Which reminds me, can we use my car when we leave here from now on? I feel like it’s a little more discreet.”

He sighed, “Let me guess, you want to drive?”

That made you look over at him, “Would you let me?”

“I’ll answer that more definitively after I survive one ride with you behind the wheel.”

Throughout the evening you could feel that both of you were trying to figure each other out. Nestor seemed like he was a very tightly closed book, though. You couldn’t get much of a read on him and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. You felt like he had caught you a few too many times just staring at him, trying to pull information out of his brain just by looking at him.

After you put all of the dishes in the sink, you went and took a shower and changed into a baggy t-shirt and shorts to go to bed in. You said goodnight to Nestor, who was still on the couch, scrolling on his phone. You said to let you know if you had any questions or anything but other than that you would see him in the morning. You felt weird just leaving him out in the living room like that, but you supposed that that was what he was there to do.

You woke up in the middle of the night, dying for a piece of chocolate and a glass of water. You quietly opened your door and tip-toed down the hall to get to your kitchen. You knew your house like the back of your hand so there was no need to turn the lights on and risk waking Nestor up. You were rooting through your cabinets when you heard the unmistakable click of a gun.

Instinctively, you turn around and pushed the person’s arms hard, attempting to knock the gun out of the person’s hand but at the very least have it not pointed at you anymore. You were centimeters away from kicking in their kneecap when you heard Nestor’s voice through the silence.

“It’s me,” he sounded exhausted but he was still alert enough to not let you try to beat him up.

“Jesus Christ,” you sighed as you reached over and flipped the light on, “What the fuck?”

“Why are you shuffling around in the dark?” he put the safety back on his gun and set it down before reaching and wiping his face, attempting to wake up a little more, “I thought someone broke in.”

“I was trying not to wake you up.”

“You didn’t succeed,” he leaned against the counter.

“I see that,” you returned your attention to the cupboard and pulled out two small wrapped candy, “Chocolate?” you offered him a piece.

He huffed but he still took it from you and ate it. You chuckled to yourself as you lifted yourself up to sit on the countertop. While you were sitting you leaned over and filled a cup with water, taking a long drink from it before returning your attention to Nestor. You stared at him for a moment, realizing that this was the first time you had ever seen him in anything besides the nice clothes that he wore for work. He was in a baggy, white long-sleeve shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. You had a feeling that that image was going to be burned into your mind forever, but you shook your head to dispel the thoughts.

“From now on I will make as much obvious noise as possible when I get up in the middle of the night.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You smiled, lightly swinging your legs back and forth, “Goodnight.”

You watched him disappear down the hall before returning your attention to the kitchen. You hopped down off the counter and noticed that all of the dishes that had been in the sink were washed and sitting in the drying board. You smiled to yourself as you looked at the spot where Nestor had just been.

[thetravelerwrites]

OkCryptid: Pevik Pikecarver (Goblin) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Male Goblin/Female Human Additional Tags: Exophilia, OkCryptid, Dating App, Goblin Content Warning: Adoption, Sex Words: 3159

A sweet commission for @mxnsterbabe​! A woman uses the "Blind Date" function on the OkCryptid app, and is surprised by who she's matched up with. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

OkCryptid was becoming the most popular dating app on the market. It was free, easy to use, and had rave reviews from it’s users. There were no end to the happy couples, or poly relationships, that sang it’s praises. You’d never used an app to date before, but your recent disastrous attempts at dating had caused you to consider it.

You weren’t even sure what you wanted, honestly. You scrolled through the profiles with no real interest. You must have swiped through a hundred profiles before a graphic popped that said: “Can decide? Try the Blind Date Option! Click Here to Try!”

Why not, you thought? You clicked it, and it took you to a form page to put in days and times you’d be available for a date. After filling it out and clicking “Next”, it took you to another page that asked which locations you were willing to go to for this date. You picked out a couple of cafes and restaurants you liked, and clicked “Match Me.”

There was a loading wheel, then a message that said, “At the moment, there are no matches that have selected any of the times and locations you provided. We will send you a message with a date and time as soon as a match is available!”

Well, that figured. You closed the app and put your phone in your pocket, turning your attentions to other things.

It wasn’t until three days later that you got a notification, which you ignored at first since you were at work. It wasn’t until you got into your car and took a moment to check your email that you saw it.

“A date has been made for the 23rd, 6 PM, at the Rosemary Gardens restaurant. To accept, click ‘Date’. To decline, click ‘Pass’.”

There was no other information. After a moment of deliberating, you clicked “Date.” It was followed by a message that said, “Congratulations! Pevik will meet you at the Rosemary Gardens Restaurant on the 23rd at 6 PM!”

Pevik? That was an unusual name. You had no idea what to expect. You had to resist an overwhelming urge to Google the name and see what came up, or at least search OkCryptid for people with that name. The whole point of a blind date was to go in blind. Peeking was against the rules.

The 23rd was only four days away. You could wait. Maybe.

The day of your date with Pevik arrived and you had to admit you were a bit nervous. The not-knowing aspect of a blind date was always a little nerve-wracking. Should you be casual? Dressy? What if they were allergic to your cat and they had a reaction to the fur on your clothes? What if they went into anaphylaxis and died? Could you forgive yourself or your cat for killing someone?!

Okay, that probably wouldn’t happen…

But it could…Where was your epipen…?

Rosemary Gardens was a trendy place that required more presentation than jeans and a t-shirt, so you wore a simple sundress and cardigan, easy and cute. Light makeup, a bobby-pin or two, just to keep fly-aways out of your eyes. Nothing flashy or fancy, since you’d gone on disastrous dates before dressed to the nines and it had been a mistake, to the say the least. Red wine is virtually impossible to get out of silk chiffon.

You got there a little early, but when you told the hostess that you were going to be waiting for someone, she said, “Oh, are you here for Pevik?”

“Yes,” You said, surprised.

“He’s already here,” She said brightly. “Right this way.”

You followed the woman to a table across from the bar, and sitting there was a goblin. He had short black hair and long ears. His eyes were the typical yellow with slotted pupils and he had a cute little button nose. He had on black slacks and a blue button-up shirt on with shiny black shoes.

You managed to hide the fact that you were a little disappointed. You typically preferred men who were taller than you, and this guy was only slightly taller than your waist, at your best guess.

He was clasping and unclasping his hands over and over, but stopped and perked up as you approached, a smile spreading across his face. You could see small bottom and top tusks just poking out from his lips.

“Are you my date today?” He asked.

“I am,” You said, sticking your hand out and introducing yourself.

“Pevik,” He said. “Pevik Pikecarver.”

“That’s a unique last name,” You said as you sat.

“It’s Orcish, actually,” He said shyly. “I was adopted as a baby by orc dads.”

“Oh!” You said. “Wow, that’s amazing.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” He looked up at you through his surprisingly long lashes. “I’m not exactly what you were expecting, huh?”

You shrugged a little guiltily. “I guess not.”

“I know. You were expecting me to have blue eyes, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Poor guy. You imagined he got a lot of rejection but still had a good sense of humor.

“I get it if you’d like to end this early--” He started, but you interrupted him.

“No, no! I’ll admit, I had different… expectations, but you seem really cool. Let’s keep it going, if that’s okay?”

His smile widened and he nodded.

He was a social worker who insured elder care workers were qualified to do their jobs, in both retirement facilities and home care. He enjoyed his job because it reminded him of his dads, who had adopted him very late in their lives. You were sad to learn they had both died recently, making him feel very lonely. Usually he spent most of his time at work and with his two cats, Jenga and Fifi, who he inherited from his dads.

He asked you about yourself, eager to learn about your life and hobbies. The two of you had a lot of things in common, including tastes in music and movies, although he thought the depictions of goblins in fantasy films was super racist. You had to agree.

By the end of the date, the two of you had been talking for hours and the restaurant was about to close.

“I didn’t realize how much time had passed,” He said, staring at his watch. “I should go, I’ve got a lot of paperwork at home that needs doing, but I had a great time.” He seemed to want to say more, but was hesitant.

“Me too,” You said. “Do you want to do this again sometime?”

“Yeah, absolutely!” He said, brightening. “Anytime you want! Just let me know when you’re free.”

You laughed again. “”Don’t sound so eager! Let me give you my number.” You held out your hand and he handed you his phone. You put your number in it and texted yourself. “There. I’ll text you soon, okay?”

“I look forward to it,” He said, walking you to your car. “Take care, okay?”

“I will,” You said, wishing him a goodnight.

You texted him when you got home, letting him know you’d made it safe. You weren’t sure why you felt the need to do so, but it felt nice. He responded he had gotten home as well and wished you a good night’s sleep. You went to bed feeling a little giddy.

You woke up to a good morning text from him the next day and smiled all through your morning routine for work. You didn’t expect this…reaction…from one date. Pevik was admittedly not your usual type, but there was just something about him that made you… feel good. There wasn’t an initial spark, sure, but after spending all that time talking with him had completely changed your perception. Maybe it was his unwavering attention or his sweet disposition or sense of humor. Whatever it was, you were looking forward to seeing him again.

Your next day off was Tuesday, and even though he was working ten hour days for the whole week, he still wanted to have dinner with you.

>Won’t you be tired? You asked him through text.

>Not if I’m with you, He texted back. >How could I be tired when I have you there to invigorate me?

>You’re so silly, You said, grinning at your phone.

>Hopefully in a good way, He replied. >My lunch break is over. I’ll see you tonight at seven. I can’t wait!

>Neither can I. Have a good day at work!

>I will.

He met you at a cafe that Tuesday still wearing his work badge on his button-up shirt.

“Sorry,” He said, taking it off and stuffing it in his pocket. “I came straight from work.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” You said. “We could have made the date a little later.”

“Nah, if I sat still, I’d have fallen asleep. Besides, I was excited to see you again and I didn’t want to wait.”

You could feel yourself blushing and tried to keep the smile off your face.

“I must seem like a weirdo,” He said, kicking his feet a little in embarrassment. “Being so happy to see you all the time, I mean. I know I should be kind of aloof and cool, but I can’t help it. I just feel like a puppy left alone for too long.”

“No, it’s really sweet,” You assured him. “Honestly, no one has ever showered me with so much attention before. It’s kind of nice. I expect guys to act aloof and disinterested at first, so it’s refreshing.”

He laughed self-consciously. “I’m glad. I’m always concerned that my enthusiasm is grating on people.” The two of you sat and ordered your coffee and treat from the waitress.

“I was thinking, actually,” You said slowly. “I hope this doesn’t seem forward, but I have the weekend off and was thinking of cooking for the first time in a while. Like, a full spread. I don’t often cook because it’s just me, but I’m pretty good at it. Would you like to have dinner at my house?”

He gulped but nodded. “Yes, that sounds lovely, thank you.”

“Well, don’t thank me yet. My cooking is either incredible or horrifying nightmares, and there is no in-between. No guarantees which one you’ll get.”

He laughed again. “Well, no one’s perfect.”

After coffee, he was walking you back to your car when you saw a bench.

“Hey, can you stand up on here for a sec?” You asked.

He hopped up effortlessly. “Sure, what for?”

You pinched his chin in your fingers and kissed him. He took your face in his hands and pulled you in closer, and you could feel his small tusks between his teeth. It was exciting.

That Friday, you were in your kitchen, stirring red sauce in a saucepan, when there was a knock on your apartment door. Your heart rose up in your chest and you went to open the door. Pevik stood there with a really beautiful bouquet flowers.

“Not to be cliche, but,” He said, grinning. “For you.”

“Thanks,” You said, taking them and sniffing. “Let me see if I have a vase.”

You did not have a vase, but you did find a liquor bottle with a wide neck and used that to decent effect.

“I was praying you weren’t allergic to any of those. I couldn’t ask without being obvious, so I also got this,” He pulled a bottle of Benadryl out of his pocket. You laughed out loud.

“Very thoughtful,” You said, taking it. “It reminds me of just before our first date and my wondering if you’d have an allergic reaction to my cat’s fur and if I should bring my epipen.”

He laughed with you. “So, what’s on the menu tonight?” He hopped up on one of the stools at the bar in your kitchen.

“Stuffed bell peppers with a spring greens salad,” You said.

“That sounds amazing,” He said. “I eat way too much take out, but I never have time to cook.”

“Well, maybe I can cook for you more often. We could even cook together.”

He smiled. “I love that idea.”

You pointed to a stepstool you bought recently. “Want to help me stuff my pepper?”

He snorted and struggled to keep a straight face. “Sure.” He grabbed the stool and stood up next to you, taking one of the knives from the block and cleaning out the peppers. On the stool he was only slightly shorter than you, perfect height to lean in for a sneaky kiss on the cheek, so you did.

He jumped but gave you a startled smile, returning the kiss. The two of you worked together to finish dinner, stealing kisses as you did. When his hands weren’t occupied, he lay one of them on the small of your back, stroking up and down your spine a little. It made you bite your lip and squeeze your legs together.

The tension between the two of you was getting thicker by the minute, and by the time you both had sat down to eat, you were throbbing between your legs and shooting him sultry looks. You ate in relative silence because you didn’t trust yourself to talk, but your unshod foot found it’s way up his leg and between his thighs.

Halfway through dinner, he couldn’t take it anymore and threw down his silverware, standing and coming around the table to kiss you roughly. You pulled him into your lap and began unbuttoning his shirt as his lips made their way to your neck and collarbone, palming your breasts through the fabric of your blouse.

“Bedroom?” You asked breathlessly.

“Oh, gods, please,” He wheezed back, and you lifted him, carrying him to your room. He was heavier than he looked, but he was still light enough to carry a short distance. The both of you fell heavily on the bed with you on top of him. He pulled your blouse off just as you unbuttoned the last button and tugged the hem of his shirt out of his pants. He rolled you, straddling your legs as he undid your pants and helped you get them off.

Undressing each other took no time at all, and you lay back on your pillow as he kissed his way down your stomach. The pressure of his tusks pressed against your skin was like small charges, electrifying your body. His hands massaged your thighs and opened you up as he got lower, his long nails poking you slightly as he went.

“You’re okay with this, right?” He asked softly, his thumbs rubbing circles so very close to your swollen entrance. “I’m not moving to fast, am I?”

“If you’re moving too fast, I am, too,” You said. “It’s okay. Trust me, I’m perfectly happy with how things are going right now.”

He chuckled. “Just checking,” He replied before lowering himself down. His tongue licked one long strip from bottom to top before the pointed tip of it circled your clit, flicking it once or twice to make you whimper. Then he licked his thumb and used it to rub your bud up and down while he pushed his tongue inside you, moaning against the skin, contracting it against that sweet spot. You cried out and gripped his hair, rocking your hips back and forth.

Your breasts shuddered with every quivering breath that escaped your lips as he took his time pleasuring you. He was a little rusty, but he was more than happy to take direction, and your mind blanked as a rush of ecstasy washed through your body. You were completely unable to control the sounds that came out of you.

You lay on your pillow looking down at him as he got up on his knees, pushed your legs back, and lined himself up with your body, slowly pushing his cock inside, groaning and shutting his eyes.

“Oh, gods,” He whispered. “That’s so good. You feel incredible.”

“I could say the same to you,” You replied breathlessly. He wasn’t long, but definitely girthy and stretched you open pretty wide without being uncomfortable.

He opened his eyes and looked right at you, as if confirming that you wanted this. You bit your lip and fluttered your lashes a bit in a way you hoped looked appealing. He smiled and began to thrust, bending to kiss your belly and breasts. He gripped your hips hard and slapped his body against yours pretty hard with each thrust. It was exhilarating and you pressed your ankles into his buttocks to drive him faster.

He definitely took the hint, and your bedframe was smacking the wall with the intensity of his movements. Time completely blurred and it was as if the two of you were in a bubble in which nothing could enter in or leave until you both were sated. You couldn’t remember if any words were said from that moment on, whether by you or him, and fell into the fog of the best sex of your entire life.

You weren’t sure if you fell asleep or passed out, but there was definitely a moment were you simply weren’t conscious anymore. When you came back to the living world, a soft morning light was filtering in through the curtains of your windows. Pevik was asleep against you, his head on your shoulder and an arm around your waist. He looked adorable sleeping. You had thought to extricate yourself to start breakfast, but you woke him.

“Good morning,” You said as he began to blink blearily.

“It is a most excellent morning,” He said, smiling his toothy smile. “Last night was… beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. I think you’ve spoiled me for any other woman.”

“Well, hopefully, you won’t be needing another one,” You said. “In fact…” You grabbed your phone from your bedside table and clicked open the app.

“What are you doing?”

“Uninstalling it,” You said. “I’ve got you now. I don’t need it anymore.”

His grin widened. “You know what? You’re right.” He retrieved his phone from his pants pocket and uninstalled the app as well. “It served it’s purpose. No point in wasting the memory space.”

You lay back down on the bed with him propped up on one arm, looking down at you.

“I’m glad you decided to give me a chance,” He said to you, kissing your shoulder.

“I’m glad I tried that blind date thing,” You replied. “It’s hard to believe that if I had clicked a different button, we may never have met.”

“Life is funny that way,” He said.

You smiled softly at him and gave him a sweet kiss. “Right now, life is telling me we need waffles.”

“It’s important to listen to messages when we receive them,” He said magnanimously, then chased you into the kitchen, tickling you as you went.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[infearandfaith777]

lil thang i wrote

Long post ahead y’all but who knows maybe you’re getting a preview to what will someday be a successful blogging or writing career and you’ll be glad that you knew me before i blew up the internet with my offensive views 🤪 lol just kidding i know I’m not that important haha!!

Over the course of the next few days I’m going to be posting all the photos that im always forgetting to post bc im deactivating my Facebook for the foreseeable future, and i would like to have my mass amount of backed up photos on here. Social media is a huge time sucking vortex for me in this stage of my life. It always has been (I’ve been in big tech’s clutches since i was in the 6th grade, i consider us all to be little lab rats of the ongoing social media experiment) I’ve been making a real effort to work on it the last few years. I’ve made progress, I’m just not seeing the full fruit and i know that it’s because I’m 1) stubborn and sinful 2) i choose my wants over what I know is right. I guess those are the same thing 🤪 My oh my, it’s so easy to slip. My biggest step for this year was deleting my Instagram a few months ago. i lied to myself when i said that it wouldn’t be a big deal to have the Facebook app on my phone since I’m not a fan of the layout/platform anyways. but what I’ve found is that slowly but surely, the time that i would’ve spent on Instagram is now being spent on here 🤷‍♀️ oy vey.

I know myself well enough to know that my self control when it comes to social media is an absolute mess, it doesn’t matter how hard i try. I keep failing at meeting my goal for how to spend my time online and I’m over it. for some people their social media usage/consumption isn’t a big deal because they know their limits and they’re mature enough to handle it but I’m not and it’s okay to admit that. we’ve built an attractive idol in the shape of a little square box of light and quite frankly I’m sick of mine. I don’t want to miss any of the beautiful season of life that I’m in. Socials aren’t adding to anything for me right now, as much as I’d like for them to and try for them to. They’re taking from me. Who knows, they’re likely taking from some of you too but we don’t usually question it because our culture is so addicted and it seems unrealistic to think of real life without an online life on the side.

time is God given, and short, and i want to steward mine well. Now, I have to clarify that I’m not bashing social media or it’s users. It might not seem like it from everything I’ve said thus far but I love social media. Really, truly i do. & that’s the heart of the problem, is that sometimes i fear that i love it more than i love God. It’s hard for me to be in the word sometimes, yet i have no problem hopping online and seeing what’s poppin. That’s messed up. I love the brilliance of everything at our fingertips. I love what it can be. But I hate what it often and usually is. it’s designed to keep you scrolling & i of all people understand the incredible difficulty in finding balance. They feed on our sinful desire for constant and instant gratification. Despite the coding, the use of the tool itself is a neutral party. It’s up to us how we use it, whether that be good or bad lies in our hands. Literally, your phone lies in your hands.

So what do you choose to do with it?

If you could see God sitting beside you watching what you’re looking at (which He IS but you know what i mean, if He was literally visible to your eye staring at the screen) would you at any point be ashamed of what you’re doing on your phone? I know there’s times that i would be.

How much time do you spend on it?

Can you answer those questions honestly and be at peace with the answer? If you can, great! 🤠

But if you’re like most of us and maybe less than pleased with your time usage or what you’re doing/looking at online, then what are some real changes you can make?

Is there something else could you be dedicating your time to? Something you always say you “don’t have enough time” for even though you have plenty of time to be online??? 🤔

Do you think you could limit your consumption if you tried or is the urge to scroll too powerful?

We could all stand to ask ourselves these things from time to time..

Im cutting off what I know is a sin for me. It might not be for you and that’s awesome. Either way we should be talking more about how social media has affected our society.

Maybe with a long hiatus, and a lot of prayer, God will help me to learn how to use my social media the way that i know i should. wisely, with MUCH greater self control, and always for His glory. 🤍

Colossians 3:17, ESV: "And whatever you do, in word or deed, do EVERYTHING in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him."

(emphasis added)

Proverbs 15:3

The eyes of the Lord are in every place,

Watching the evil and the good.

Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it. Keep your mouth free of perversity; keep corrupt talk far from your lips. Let your eyes look straight ahead; fix your gaze directly before you. Give careful thought to the paths for your feet and be steadfast in all your ways. Do not turn to the right or the left; keep your foot from evil (Proverbs 4:23-27)

“The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!

Matthew 6:22-23

“Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things; and give me life in your ways.”

Psalm 119:37

“But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.”

1 Corinthians 9:27

[comrade-kenobi]

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Frankie Morales- Frankie x Reader (Daycare!AU)

| Ask Box | Ko-Fi | Twitter | Masterlist | 

I don’t know how good this is, but i thought it was cute. Happy Halloween, my loves!

Frankie and Ellie’s costumes are perfect, change my mind lmaooo

(Also I’m referencing a very specific thirst trap on tiktok with the readers costume because it’s burning into my brain forever, in a good way.)

“Are you doing anything for Halloween?” Frankie asked sheepishly, busying himself with putting Ellie in the car so you couldn’t see how nervous you were making him. 

“Nope.” You replied with a light shrug, trying to think of the last time you’d actually had Halloween plans. 

“Well,” Frankie started, ducking his head out of the car, and looking at you for the first time since he’d gained the courage to ask the question. The way the setting sun had lit up your face made him lose his breath, and his courage, for a moment. 

“You’re, uh, more than welcome to come trick or treating with Ellie and I.” He finished, all in one breath. You smiled at his quickened words, and Frankie could feel his face warming up under your gaze.

“I’d love to.” You replied, as a beautiful smile graced your perfect features. He watched as you considered something for a moment, and then spoke again. “What are you guys gonna be?” 

“Baby yoda,” Frankie answered proudly. Thinking of how goddamn cute she looked when he’d put her in the costume to try it out.“Ellie’s going to be baby yoda.” 

“And you?” You asked, quirking your brow with a little grin. 

“I bought a cheap Mandolorian helmet, I figured that would work.” He said, suddenly feeling a little self conscious at his lack of effort. 

“Perfect.” You replied, “I’ve got a Star Wars costume at home that I think still fits. It’s a date.” 

Frankie smiled like an idiot the whole ride home. He knew ‘it’s a date’ was just an expression, but the two of you had been getting closer lately; and that gave him hope. More hope than he’d honestly had in a long time. Besides, the idea of the three of you going out in matching costumes was enough to keep him smiling for weeks to come. 

---

When Saturday finally rolled around, 4 o’ clock couldn’t come soon enough. Normally Frankie’s weekends flew by, but today seemed to drag on forever. He’d cleaned the whole house, thrown up some spooky decorations, and gotten Ellie ready with some time to spare. So he took it upon himself to have a photoshoot with his little yodito. 

Frankie was finishing up taking, what he considered to be, the cutest pictures in the world when there was a knock on the door. His heart leapt into his chest when he looked at the time. 4 o’ clock on the dot. It was definitely you. He took a deep breath and collected himself before he opened the door. 

“H-hey…” He stuttered, freezing in place with a dumb look plastered onto his face. He knew you were dressing up, but he was in no way prepared for what he saw. There you stood, smiling in his doorway in black jedi robes, and black thigh high boots.The costume wasn’t skimpy, but God was it sexy. You were showing a sinful amount of the soft skin of your thighs, and the glow of the red lightsaber against your face threatened to awaken something deep within him. 

“Hi” you replied, either not noticing or completely ignoring just how taken aback Frankie was by your outfit. 

“I-I, uh, like your costume.” Frankie said, moving out of the way so you could come in. His eyes briefly wandering to the curve of your ass as you brushed by him. 

“Thanks” you replied, anxiously fiddling with the sash that draped down between your legs. 

“It was sexy Anakin Skywalker, or a Jawa.” You continued, your face scrunching up in embarrassment as you listed your options. 

“I’m glad you went with this one.” Frankie said, quickly realizing how creepy that could have sounded and rushing to further explain himself. “I’m not a huge fan of Jawas.” 

“I’m happy I made the right choice then” you smiled, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you. Though, that silence didn’t last more than a few seconds before Ellie started happy screeching. 

She’d noticed you were here from her place on the floor and crawled over to you at the speed of light. The ears of her costume flopping wildly as she went.

“Hey Ellie-Belly!” You squealed, scooping her up into your arms and covering her little face with as many kisses as she would allow. 

“Frankie, this is the CUTEST thing I have ever seen.” You gushed, playfully pinching Ellie’s cheek before nuzzling your nose against hers, making her laugh. 

“Isn’t it.” He agreed proudly, his heart swelling in his chest as he watched the way you and his daughter interacted. He’d been so worried when he first dropped Ellie off all those months ago, and now he was so glad that he had nothing to worry about. You loved her like she was your own, and Frankie couldn’t be more thankful. 

“Ready to get going, Mando?” You asked, jerking your head towards the plastic helmet that sat on the coffee table. 

“Ready, Master Skywalker.” He replied, completely unable to suppress the child-like grin growing on his face. 

---

Every house you’d gone to swooned over your costumes, Ellie’s in particular. And who could blame them, she was the cutest baby either you or Frankie had ever seen. 

“Aren’t you just the sweetest family ever!” A kind older lady gushed as she placed a few candies into Ellie’s pillow case. 

“Thank you.” Frankie replied, thankful for the cover of the helmet. It hid his blush from you, and this kind stranger. 

“Have y’all been able to take a picture together yet?” She asked, her eyes happily darting between the three of you. 

“No ma’am, not yet.” He responded, looking over toward you. You looked back at him and smiled, shifting slightly to move Ellie higher up on your hip. 

“I can take one for you if you’d like,” the lady offered. Frankie looked over at you and you nodded at him, rather enthusiastically. 

“We’d love that, thank you.” Frankie answered, opening up his camera app and handing the woman his phone. 

The three of you stepped off of her porch and onto the sidewalk. Ellie dove into Frankie’s arms on the way there, she’d spent the whole night hopping between the two of you, never really sure of where she wanted to be. Frankie gladly took her and she snuggled into his chest. 

“Ready?” The lady asked, “Get in close!” 

Frankie put his free arm over your shoulders, and you wrapped your arms around his waist with your head resting perfectly on his chest. Ellie lifted up her head and made an excited squeal, clapping as the two of you hugged. 

“Perfect!” The lady exclaimed from her porch, before walking down and handing Frankie his phone. 

The two of you thanked her and headed on your way. You only made it to another few houses before Ellie started yawning. 

“I think it’s time we head back.” Frankie said, kissing the crown of his sleepy daughter's head. 

“I think so too,” you replied as Ellie started reaching her arms out towards you. Crying lightly when you didn’t take her fast enough.

Ellie fell asleep in your arms on the walk back, so you put her right in her crib when you got home. 

“You know,” you started, walking out of Ellie’s room. “It’s still pretty early, you want to watch some scary movies?” 

“Together?” Frankie asked, causing you to chuckle. 

“Yeah together, pizzas on me this time?” Your smile made Frankie weak, and he wondered for a moment how he could ever deny you. 

“Sounds good to me.” He replied, a happy warmth settling in his chest at the idea of you sticking around longer. 

---

The two of you snuggled up, dangerously close, on the couch to enjoy some good pizza and bad movies. The longer the movie went on, the closer you got to him. You’d taken to hiding behind Frankie’s back, and squeezing his arms every time the music got suspenseful. At one particularly bad jump scare you’d practically jumped into his lap, your face turning red as a tomato once you’d realized what you’d done. 

When the first movie ended Frankie noticed the goosebumps on your skin, and the way you shivered when he moved away to get another slice of pizza. 

“Are you cold?” he asked, his fingers lightly brushing the cool skin of your arm to check.

“A little” you lied, trying to play off another shiver, but failing miserably. 

“I’ll get you something a little warmer.” He chuckled, heading off to his room to find you a pair of his sweatpants and a flannel. 

“I have a question,” he began when he got back, holding the clothes just out of your reach. “Why do you have a sexy Anakin costume?” 

“Don’t ask…” you groaned playfully, covering your face in embarrassment. 

“Fine,” he conceded with a laugh, tossing his warm clothes your way. “Keep your secrets.” 

---

Frankie wasn’t sure what was sexier, you in the costume, or you in this clothes. He had to force himself not to stare. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but there was something about the look of his flannel on you that drove him crazy. 

The both of you settled back onto the couch and continued watching movies. Laughing at the cheesy lines, arguing about which classic killer was the scariest, and practically yelling at the tv every time the protagonist did something stupid. 

“We should do this more often,” you said almost dreamily as you smiled up at him. 

“You said that…” Frankie replied in disbelief. A near love-drunk smile playing at his lips as he looked down at you. 

“Yeah…” You nodded, smiling back at him, wider this time. Then you rested your head on his shoulder and went back to watching the movie. Frankie had to resist the urge to pinch himself, because he was sure he must be dreaming. 

Later that night, after you’d left and Frankie had gone to bed, he was scrolling through his phone. There he found the picture of the two of you with Ellie, he’d forgotten all about it. His heart skipped a beat when he finally looked at it. It was perfect. You were holding each other close, huge smiles painted on your faces as you both looked at Ellie. Who was looking back at the both of you, hands clasped together, mouth open wide, and eyes sparkling with pure joy. 

Frankie laid back in bed and closed his eyes, thinking that if this was a dream, it was a hell of a good one; and he never wanted to wake up.

Tags: @mrpascals​ @yespolkadotkitty​

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

All or Nothing (Chapter 1)

Uhh...So don't even ask me about this one, it just hit me out of nowhere. Now I know what you’re thinking; Sarah, fancy cell phones and dating apps weren’t a thing in the 90’s, and yes, you would be right.

According to the deleted scene in BDS, the boys were 27 during the movie, this is set just before it so they’re around 26. BUT, I’m bringing the boys into modern times so this storyline can work and I love how fucking beautiful they are around the first film. To put it simply, the boys are 26 (look how they did in the first film), but it's set now.

So yes it’s AU, if you can handle that, then keep reading.

It's mainly Murphy centric to start but honestly, Connor will be getting in on the action eventually, because let's face it, I’m greedy and thirsty for these boys, like shiiiiit. :’)

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

Savannah lay on the couch as she scrolled through her phone, a dramatic sigh leaving her lips. Her best friend Amy had convinced her to sign up to Tinder and she was wondering why she had agreed. Every guy she spoke to was getting on her nerves, they were rude and entitled and it was all about sex. It wasn't like she hated sex, but a hello would have been nice before they started on about it. She had the day off work and she was still in her pokemon pajamas despite the fact it was almost 6pm now. She had gone on Tinder as a last resort because she was bored and there was nothing on Netflix that she hadn't seen that appealed to her.

No. Swipe left. No. Swipe left. Looks like a serial killer. Swipe left. Oh hello… She looked at the picture of someone, his name was Murphy apparently but my God he was beautiful. She swiped right and snorted derisively, there was no way in hell he would match her. He was perfection and she felt like one of those trolls that lived under a bridge. Her eyes widened though as instantly it came up that she had a match with him, it turned out he had already swiped right on her. She chewed her lower lip as she glared at her phone. Usually, she wasn't too bothered about messaging someone first, she had anxiety issues but through messages, she was able to hold a decent conversation. But this time she felt nervous, maybe because the guy was fucking sex on legs and she didn't really know how to deal with that.

She didn't have much time to dwell on it though because her phone pinged as she got a message. She opened it to see it was off the man himself and she felt a strange fuzzy sensation build in her stomach.

‘Hey love.’

She couldn't help the smile on her face, according to his profile he was Irish and she could just imagine his accent when she read it.

‘Hey :) ‘

She facepalmed herself that it was the best she could come up with, this guy made her lose any sense of being a functioning human being even over messages.

‘How’s it going?’

‘Pretty good thank you, how about you?’

‘I’m grand thanks.’

Ah, small talk, how she loathed it. It always felt so stilted and awkward, so formal. Sometimes she didn't know how to respond to people, like right now, so sometimes she would just stop replying altogether. She wanted to think of something cool or intriguing to say to keep him talking to her, yet her mind came up blank every time. Her phone pinged again though as she got another message off him.

‘You’re fucking stunning btw ;) ‘

Her jaw dropped a little as she read the message over and over, a grin creeping its way onto her face. She was blushing which was ridiculous since they were not even talking in person.

‘I think you need glasses Murphy :’) ‘

‘Ah fuck off, my eyes work perfectly fine love.’

She snorted to herself, the stupid grin still plastered on her face.

‘Well you’re pretty handsome yourself.’

‘I’m flattered ;) ‘

Another hour passed by as she and Murphy chatted some more about this and that, he had told her he had a twin brother and they had talked about their jobs; Savannah working at a bookstore and Murphy at a meat packing plant. She didn't stop smiling once as she pottered around her small apartment cleaning up.

‘So, what do you think about meeting up?’

She stilled, butterflies blooming in her stomach at the thought of meeting the man face to face. She hadn't met anyone off the app yet but she seemed to get on well with Murphy and he actually knew how to talk instead of banging on about sex right away. She wasn't quite sure what he would expect of her when they met, but part of her wanted to find out.

‘I’d like that :) ‘

‘Tonight?’

She swallowed thickly and looked at the clock, it was just past 7 now, which meant they’d meet up pretty fucking soon, she hadn't really expected him to want to see her tonight and she felt nervous that she had a severe lack of time to mentally prepare.

‘What do you have in mind?’

She sat on the couch as she waited for a reply, his replies had been coming in right away but this time it was a few minutes and she wondered if he had a change of heart and decided he didn't want to meet her after all. Anxiety was a bitch. She was relieved when her phone went off again.

‘Me and my brother usually go to an Irish pub just near our apartment, we could go there if you want?’

She quirked a brow as she read it, an Irish pub, it wasn't really date-worthy but she guessed it wasn't really a date, they barely knew each other, it was more just meeting and feeling each other out. It would be a crowded place, so on the off chance he was a psycho, a hot psycho, but crazy nonetheless, she would be around other people. Amy had been very clear with her that if she was to meet up with someone, she must meet them in a public place and see if she got any bad vibes.

‘Sounds good to me, I’ve never been to an Irish pub before.’

‘What?! Fuck me, you’ve not lived girl ;) ‘

She snorted to herself and nibbled her lower lip, Amy was going to have a field day with this situation when she found out.

‘I guess not haha. What time?’

‘8?’

‘Okay :) Just so you know, I have like major anxiety so I might be super quiet at first and you’ll have to keep poking me to make me talk :’) ‘

‘HA, I think I can handle that love’

He gave her the directions, she would have to get a bus but she didn't mind and he gave her his number in case she got lost and needed his help. She ran into her bedroom and pulled out almost all of her clothes, she didn't want to dress up too much, it was just a pub after all, but she wanted to look decent. It was summer so she settled on a nice strappy black dress with little red flowers on it. It was a skater dress and ended just above her knees. She paired it with a lacy boho style black cardigan that was floor length and her ankle high Doc Marten boots. Her dark brown hair was just past her shoulders and naturally slightly wavy, she kept it down and put a headband in with a little black bow. She slapped on some winged liner and mascara and that was good enough for her. It was her usual makeup, nothing over the top and she felt comfortable.

She grabbed her bag and left, the anxiety starting to build up. When she got off the bus she looked around, she hadn't ever been to this part of Southie before and she had no clue where she was, there were a lot of people bustling around and it was getting dark, it only made her panic. She hated social situations and she cursed herself for even putting herself in this position, what the fuck was she thinking? Her eyes darted around nervously and she took her phone from her bag, chewing her lip as she looked at it. She needed to call him, she didn't know where she was and she had forgotten everything he told her about where to go from the bus stop. Phone calls were hell for her. She wasn't sure what it was about them that triggered her anxiety tenfold but she started considering hopping back on the bus and fleeing, never talking to him again and pretending it all never happened. She couldn't though, she’d feel bad if she did that and also, he was drop dead gorgeous and she didn't know if she would have this opportunity again.

She took a deep breath and scrolled through her contacts until she found his name, pushing call and wincing, fighting the panic and urge to just hang up.

“Hello?” She heard on the other end, she could hear people chattering in the background and he shouted at someone to shut up, she couldn't help but smile and it eased her just a little.

“Hey Murphy, it’s Savannah.” She said shyly, cursing herself for sounding so fucking small and pathetic.

“Hey love! Ye get off the bus?” He asked, sounding like he was smiling. She heard movement on the other end and suddenly it went quieter, she wondered if he had moved from the noise to hear her better.

“Yeah but uh...I’m kind of lost.” She mumbled, her cheeks flushing slightly, she felt so stupid. She heard a boyish laugh on the other side of the phone and it was such a beautiful sound it made her legs go weak.

“Ye still at the bus stop?” He asked her.

“Yeah.” She replied and she glanced around, still feeling nervous about being out in the dark on her own.

“Hold on, I’ll come grab ye.” With that, he hung up.

She moved to lean against the building next to the bus stop as she waited for him, she was so fucking nervous to see him in person, what if he didn’t like her when he actually saw her? She whined to herself, once again wondering why she had done this to herself. She glanced up and saw him walking over. He was wearing a black t-shirt that seemed to stretch across his broad ass shoulders and arms, she didn't think she'd ever seen shoulders that wide before, but fuck if it wasn't perfection. She swallowed thickly as he beamed a grin at her, walking over.

“Hey there love!” He smiled, taking her by surprise as he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. She hadn't really expected any physical contact so soon and she tensed at first before her brain registered what was going on. She brought her arms around his middle to hug him back loosely, feeling awkward and not really knowing how to interact.

When he moved away though he either didn't notice or didn't care as he just grinned at her.

“Ye ready for yer first experience o’ an Irish pub?” He smirked at her, his accent almost made her swoon and that would have been fucking embarrassing. She nodded shyly, unable to find her voice now she was face to face with the man and he tilted his head as he looked at her. His cocky smirk vanished and it was replaced by a kind smile instead.

“Hey, don’t be goin’ shy on me now love aye? Ye’ll be fine.” He said softly, making her heart flutter at his kind words and tone. She was grateful he wasn't mocking her or making her feel stupid.

The walk to the pub wasn't far at all and Murphy chatted about little things on the way, helping her feel more at ease. When they got there, they stopped just outside the door and she glared at it like it was a poisonous snake. She could hear the rowdy people all the way from outside and she got nervous again.

“Ye’ll be fine alright, I’ll stick wit’ ye and they’re all good people.” He smiled down at her, making her blink up at him and nod. She could do this, she would be fine, she just had to push past her anxiety and do it. She was sick of not living her life, of hiding away, always choosing to stay hidden away at home and not going out because her anxiety ruled her life. Murphy seemed like a good guy and he seemed to just get her, wanting to put her at ease, if she stayed by his side in there, maybe things wouldn’t be too bad and for once she could actually have fun.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag

[omyeol]

three words - vii

word count: 6,766

genre: fluff, angst

Holding yourself back from texting or calling Baekhyun proved to be harder than you thought before. Your fingers itched every time your phone rang and his name written across your phone screen. The phone call didn’t stop after a few times, too, and then the texts came, and you felt like Baekhyun had made it his mission to drive you crazy. Although, knowing him, you knew that was his intention.

17 new messages

28 missed calls

The last time he called was just a few hours ago, right when you just woke up. You let the phone rang in your hand as you stared at his picture that you used for his caller ID. It was an old picture of him pouting exaggeratedly at you, his lower lip jutting out dramatically; a picture that never failed to make you laugh. But this time, looking at his picture only made you sad, made you remember of that night four days ago when the talk ended up badly.

Still staring tiredly at your phone screen, you waited until he stopped calling–which didn’t happen until three missed calls later. Once the phone calls finally stopped, you let out a sigh and rolled on to your back, dropping your phone beside you. All those phone calls didn’t ease the headache you had since last night. A headache and a heartache never stopped you from going to work before, but this time you were so tempted to call in sick and sleep the day away.

“Are you not gonna get up and get ready?” Turning your head to look at the doorway, your cousin–Hana–was already standing in the doorway–the door opened wide and she leaned on the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.

You frowned at her, trying to ignore the sudden goosebumps you suddenly had. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“You’re too deep in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear me open the door.” She walked in, approaching you and took a seat on the edge of your bed. “Are you okay?”

“No, I don’t feel well,” you breathed out and shut your eyes, pulling your blanket up until your chin. Holding a pillow in your arms and laying to the side, you felt Hana’s hand on your forehead.

“You’re burning up. Have you taken any meds yet?” Opening your eyes, you shook your head. “Call in sick today. You can’t go to work like that.”

“Okay, I will.” With a sigh, you grabbed your phone and opened up the messaging up. You texted Junmyeon to let him know that you were sick and unable to work, and after that, you also informed the others in the group chat between the five of you. Once you’d let them know, you locked your phone and placed it on the bedside table.

“Good. I’ll call in sick too so I can take care of you.” You let out a chuckle at her words, wondering how easy it was for her to just do that. But it was expected of Hana, though. Being in the same age as you, she was always the one who never really thought twice when making decision. She also never really cared of what other people think of her too, unlike you.

“You’re using me as an excuse to skip work, aren’t you?” Hana widened her eyes and let out an exaggerated gasp, faking a surprised look.

“What are you talking about? I’m just being a good host and cousin right now. I can’t just leave you alone like this, can I?” You rolled your eyes playfully, but were thankful at her decision to stay in and accompany you.

“You just want to continue binge watching The Miracle We Met.” Hana chuckled at your words and got up from the bed.

“Well, I can do that and take care of you too, right? I’m a good multitasker, you know,” she screamed as she walked out of the room without closing the door.

The rest of your morning was mostly spent in bed–having breakfast which consisted of porridge and chicken soup that you didn’t even finish and sleeping your headache and fever off. The paracetamol you took after breakfast made you sleepy and you ended up sleeping again for a while before awaken by the urge to pee. The fever made you feel so weak and uncomfortable that drifting in and out of sleep was the only thing you could do–because you didn’t even have the will to move past the bedroom and bathroom.

When you woke up the fifth time that day, you could hear Hana crying over the drama she watched in the living room and the fever still hadn’t gone down. You had sweated a lot, but the fever was still quite high. Not to mention, this time your throat felt so scratchy and it became harder for you to swallow anything. It hurt even when you drank water, so talking definitely wasn’t an option. Grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you unlocked it and opened up the messaging app, scrolling through your conversation with Kyungsoo.

Being sick suckssss

Want me to get Baekhyun for you?

I’m meeting him tonight

Without replying to his texts, you closed the app and dropped your phone beside you again. In this situation, Baekhyun was the last thing in your mind. You hadn’t thought about him–not even once–since last night, since the splitting headache you got once you got back from work. It had been a pleasant twelve or more hours–not the headache and the fever included, of course–but now Kyungsoo mentioned his name again, you felt like throwing your phone against the wall.

“How’s the fever?” Hana asked once more when you finally mustered up enough energy to get out of the bedroom and be in the kitchen for longer than a few minutes. She was reheating the porridge and the soup from the morning while you were refilling the water bottle with warm water from the water dispenser. Hopping on the countertop, you let out a sigh, as if it was an answer enough.

“It’s better than this morning, I guess.” Hana turned around and pressed the back of her hand on your forehead to check your temperature again.

“Shit,” she breathed out once she pulled her hand back. “Should I take you to the hospital? It feels like your fever is getting higher.” You shook your head faintly and waved off her suggestion.

“I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Don’t worry,” you reassured her–but mostly yourself.

Turns out, you weren’t fine and your fever didn’t get any better by the next day. At some point in the afternoon, your fever broke and you sweated buckets, but it came back during dinner time. It was so high that you had trouble sleeping because of it–you woke up several times throughout the night and couldn’t go back to sleep straight away. In the end, after you threw up twice, Hana called Kyungsoo at six in the morning to drive you both to the hospital.

You were sweating during the whole drive to the hospital–you weren’t sure if it was because your fever broke or out of nervousness, but mostly it was the latter, though. Going to the hospital–and you knew Kyungsoo and Hana would take you to the ER–would increase the probability of seeing Baekhyun again, and honestly, you still weren’t ready to see him, especially in this condition.

“This really isn’t necessary, you guys,” you complained with much difficulty of uttering the words. The scratchiness you felt in your throat after you spoke made you regret your choice to speak. It was difficult to even swallow your own saliva, but you still managed to speak.

“It is,” Hana insisted as the three of you got out of Kyungsoo’s car. She walked by your side to the entrance of the ER with Kyungsoo walking a few steps ahead. “It’s been two days and you look like you aren’t getting any better.”

You ignored Hana’s words once the three of you stepped into the ER, Kyungsoo going straight to the nurse station. Swallowing nervously, you allowed your gaze to dart around the ER, taking in the situation around you that reminded you of that night a few years ago.

The last time you were in ER, the situation was so different than it was in present day. Then, you were brought in a stretcher with nurses and doctors crowding around you trying to save your life as best as they could. This time, you walked into the ER with your own two feet without any bleeding injuries that could really threaten your life. Then, you were alone, not even your family member showed up until hours later when they got the news of your brother. This time, you were with some of the people you considered as family, who were kind enough to drag your ass to the hospital when you repeatedly told them you were fine.

(You weren’t fine, though. Your throat hurt a lot, and your high fever made you feel so drowsy you wished you could stay in bed forever.)

“Come on.” Kyungsoo’s voice pulled you back from the trance you were in. Hana, Kyungsoo, and a nurse led you to an available bed on the corner of the room, as you passed the other occupied beds, letting out a sigh in relief when you didn’t see Baekhyun around at all.

The nurse told you to lie on the bed and you did, letting the nurse do what she had to do. You laid still on the uncomfortable bed, staring at the bright light above as the nurse checked your pulse and your blood pressure. Kyungsoo and Hana waited by the side of the hospital bed, both of them not uttering a single word as they kept their eyes on you like worried parents. A silly thought of setting both of them up crossed your mind but it was squashed when you saw a familiar figure joined you.

“Dr. Byun,” the nurse acknowledged him as he walked in and nodded faintly at the nurse. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he saw Hana–who he had never met before–and Kyungsoo. You’d like to think that you didn’t see how his eyes widened and how taken aback he looked when he saw you on the bed, but you did see it. He might just had a flashback of the last time you were laying on a hospital bed, with your bloodied skin and your cries that tugged at his heartstrings. You knew it all by how he was frozen on his spot for a few seconds before he blinked and regained his focus.

With racing heart, you braved yourself to take a look at him. Taking in from his slightly messy hair to a slight skin peeking out from his scrubs, and from his tight nervous grip on the clipping board that had your chart to his eyes. A few seconds felt like hours before you finally looked away.   

Baekhyun kept quiet as the nurse went on about how your blood pressure was too low, how your fever was still high and you just laid there, trying your best to glare at Kyungsoo as fierce as you could. It didn’t work though, because Kyungsoo just blinked at you, not threatened at all by your failed attempt of being scary. By his side, Hana tried to give you an encouraging smile despite the furrowed eyebrows and worried look across her face.

It was easier to focus on them both other than Baekhyun’s hand as he checked your pulse–you didn’t know why he did that when the nurse already did it before and checked your heartbeat with his stethoscope. The skin that he touched felt like it burn, and your heart did its thing where it started to beat a tad faster than its usual.

“How long has the fever been going on?” Baekhyun asked, keeping his eyes on you and you couldn’t help to meet his gaze, but you gave up after one second, glancing at Hana and silently telling her to answer.

“It’s been three days now, and she also started throwing up last night,” Hana explained and took a step closer to you. “Is it possible that she’s pregnant?”

At her question, you glared at Hana and held the urge to get off the bed and punch her arm, meanwhile Baekhyun froze in his place for a moment, taking in Hana’s question and processing it in his brain. You also couldn’t miss the way Kyungsoo’s eyes widened and look between you and Baekhyun back and forth, because he was the only who knew about you and Baekhyun. Darting your gaze away from Hana, you stared at Baekhyun who, this time, fixed his gaze on your clothed stomach, the possibility of a little creature made out of you and him looming over both of your heads.

But the thought was quickly squashed down over the realization that you just had your period last week, and it was just impossible that you were pregnant.

“Ah, no, she’s not.” Baekhyun finally came to his senses after clearing his throat. Grabbing the penlight from his pocket, he clicked it once to turn it on. “Could you open your mouth and stick your tongue out?” You did what he told as he aimed the light at your mouth, time seemingly to pass way too slowly for your liking.

It was a pharyngitis, an inflammation in the back of your throat that could be cured with some prescribed medicines that he’d give later, getting proper rest, and drinking lots of water–the way Baekhyun explained it to you, Hana, and Kyungsoo made you forget about the Baekhyun you knew outside the hospital. The way he explained it with medical and simple terms to make you understand better made you forget of the dumb version of him that you met last in your apartment. It felt like you met another version of him–the smarter and more professional one–but still, you couldn’t forget of the conversation you had with him that night.

As you spaced out, Hana and Kyungsoo left with the nurse and the next thing you knew, you were left alone with Baekhyun, surrounded by the thick curtains that separated you with other people. The air felt suffocating to you and you really wanted to get off the bed and walk away, but you couldn’t–not with your weak body like this. Being stubborn, you tried to sit up anyway.

“Careful, careful.” Baekhyun was quick to be by your side and grab a hold of your arm to help you sit. You tried to shake off his hold, but since you were too weak, he didn’t even budge. He didn’t put away his hands until you sat.

“Hands off,” you grumbled the words out with much difficulty, and for once, Baekhyun listened to you. Sitting on the edge of the bed with your feet dangling, you couldn’t help but face him. With so little space between the two of you, you held the urge to wince and turn away from him. Instead, you looked down at your lap and gripped the edge of the bed with your hands tightly.

“You’re not staying at Kyungsoo’s.” It wasn’t a question, it seemed like an observation, like he visited Kyungsoo’s place before and he didn’t find any trace of you. Good, you thought to yourself. Not wanting to waste your energy, you just looked up and stared at him, raising your eyebrow at his words.

“Where are you staying? When are you coming home?” Sitting in front of him like this, you realized how messy Baekhyun looked. His hair was messier than it was usually like he had been running his fingers through it so much this time, and you realized the dark circles under his eyes looked a bit more prominent, like he hadn’t been getting much sleep. What made it clearer to you was how his scrubs–the blue ones that he wore under his coat–had wrinkles.

Good, you thought again to yourself. It was nice to see that he wasn’t doing fine without you, to see that he was getting affected by your absence around the apartment.

Again, you didn’t answer his question. Instead, you wiggled your toes inside your slippers, trying to regain the feelings in them before hopping off the hospital bed. The sudden movement made you feel a bit dizzy and almost lose your footing, but again, Baekhyun got a hold of your arms before you could fall.

“Where are you going?” You shrugged his hands off your arms and he–once again–got his hands off you just in time for Kyungsoo and Hana to come back. You couldn’t hold the relieved sigh upon seeing their faces.

“Let’s go.” Without sparing Baekhyun a glance, you looked at Hana and nodded at her. In a second, she stood by your side as you walked slowly, Kyungsoo and Baekhyun walking first–Kyungsoo because he wanted to start the car first and Baekhyun… who knew what he wanted to ask Kyungsoo.

“If the fever is still high when the meds run out, come back and we’ll do a blood test, okay?” Baekhyun reminded once again when you had reached the car. You just hummed and slid into the backseat, not bothering to turn around and look at him. But judging from how uncomfortable you felt, you knew he still had his eyes on you. You still felt his gaze on the side of your face, burning through the car window until Kyungsoo drove away.

You were expecting Hana to talk or ask questions throughout the ride back home, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she just made short conversations with Kyungsoo–asking about his job and how long he’d been friends with you–to not let the silence fill in the car. The mixture of their voices was enough to put you to sleep for a little bit, until Kyungsoo shook you awake and told you that you had arrived.

Flashing Kyungsoo a grateful smile, you were thankful that he was available this morning to take you to hospital and even stayed until he brought you back to your room.

“Baekhyun wanted to know where you’re staying. Do you want me to tell him or not?” Shutting your eyes, you let out a shaky breath.

“No, please don’t tell him just yet,” you spoke in a small voice, opening up your eyes and trying to muster the most pitiful look you could do. Kyungsoo just stood still and watched your face for a moment before he sighed loudly.

“Fine,” he breathed out. “Get well soon, ‘kay? I’ll try to swing by again tonight.” You just nodded.

“Thanks, Soo.” He smiled. “Before you leave, could you please pass me my phone?” Kyungsoo grabbed your phone from the desk and passed it to you before he left, closing the door on his way out.

For the first time in so long, you opened the messaging app and your thumb tapped on the unread messages from Baekhyun. There, on the very bottom, was another message from him, sent just half an hour ago–he must had sent it when you left the hospital. The message was short, but it hit you right in the heart.

Please come home. I miss you.

As you felt yourself tearing up from the words written on your phone screen, you shut your eyes in hopes to hold the tears back, but it didn’t work. The tears streamed freely down to your cheeks, and for the first time in days, you let yourself cry and sob to your heart content until you were gasping for air and your could feel your heart hurt from not having him with you. You cried until there were no tears left within you to cry, until Hana came in and let you lay your head on her lap, her fingers threading through your hair softly, until you fell asleep to the thought of how you wished it was Baekhyun who had your head in his lap and it was his fingers who were running through your hair.  

In two days, you managed to become healthy and start working again. You were thankful that you didn’t have to go to the hospital again for blood test. The thought of having your blood taken and seeing Baekhyun again in the hospital probably had made the recovery speed pretty fast. Although your throat still felt kind of scratchy and you still couldn’t eat fried food, at least this time you could talk a bit more freely without winching at the pain.

To celebrate your own speedy recovery and for a job well done at the office, you treated yourself and Hana–and Sehun too, because he drove you home and it would be impolite to not treat him too–with udon for dinner. Having dinner with both of them were a bit weird, because Sehun and Hana didn’t know each other, and it seemed like Hana had taken interest in him–with the endless questions and her tucking-hair-behind-ear thingy. But you decided to not think too much of it and let things fall into place if it could.

“Noona, can I use the bathroom for a bit?” Sehun asked when he didn’t stop in front of the building to drop you off.

“Well, you’ve parked the car already. So, you might as well.”

As Sehun did his business in the bathroom, you changed out of your work attire while you waited until he’s done and walk him out of the apartment. He took a bit long in the bathroom that you even had time to take your makeup off and wash your face. You were startled a bit, though, when the bedroom door opened and Hana walked in.

“Where’s Sehun?” She asked, leaning on the doorway. You couldn’t help but chuckle when you looked at the t-shirt she was wearing and the very short shorts that showed off her thighs.

“You’re that desperate, huh?” You teased, and Hana just rolled her eyes playfully at you. “He’s in the bathroom.” She just nodded at your words and left, but not even a moment after that, you could hear Hana talking in a slightly high-pitched tone–a tone that she used when she wanted to impress someone.

“Ah, wait, I’ll get her for you.” And the next thing you knew, Hana was hollering out your name. With a sigh, you got up and walked out of the bedroom to join them. In the foyer, Sehun was putting on his shoes while Hana was staring at him with her hands behind her back, her body swaying a bit as if she was entranced by Sehun putting on his shoes–which was nothing special at all. Standing beside her, you elbowed her softly, trying to make her stop.

“Noona, thank you for the dinner,” Sehun spoke politely and bowed a little to you and Hana once he was done putting on his shoes. You just waved him off. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.” You stepped forward and opened the door for him… only to be met with a familiar person standing outside the door, his hand up ready to ring the doorbell.

Staying at Hana’s for almost a week, you never expected Baekhyun would find out where you were. He had never met Hana before–the one at the hospital didn’t count–and you had never told him anything about Hana before, let alone where she lived. Now that Baekhyun was here, with his eyes wide as if he didn’t expect the door would already be opened, you could only think of one person who would tell him the address.

“Ah- uh- hi,” Baekhyun stuttered and smiled nervously as the three of you stared at him, he was looking between the three of you before settling his gaze on yours. Sehun was the first one who nodded at him in acknowledgment and without saying another word, he dashed out of the apartment–as if he could feel the tension between you and Baekhyun, and he wanted nothing to do with it.

“Oh, hello, Dr. Byun,” Hana spoke from behind you and you turned your head to give her a panicked look, but much to your dismay, she didn’t receive the signal. “You didn’t tell me you know the doctor.”

“Ah, yeah, we’re actually close friends,” Baekhyun told her, adding a chuckle that sounded forced to you. Close friends, my ass, you thought. “Can I come in?” You turned to face him again, wanting to say no and tell him to go home, but Hana beat you to it.

“Of course, of course.” You let go of the grip you had on the doorknob and walked towards your cousin, wanting to protest. But before you could do that, she leaned closer to your ear and spoke, “Kyungsoo told me about him. Go and talk to him, I’ll be in my room.” You wanted to know how much Kyungsoo had told her about Baekhyun, but she just winked at you and left you alone with Baekhyun in the foyer. What a good host, you thought.

You took a good look on him as you waited him putting off his shoes. He was wearing a red oversized t-shirt that you bought for him and his trademark plaid pajamas. Seeing the wrinkles on his pants, you knew that he didn’t even fold his clothes anymore, especially not without you to nag at him. His pale blond hair looked messy like he had been running his fingers through it lots of times before–he probably did, though. Baekhyun looked small and messy under all those clothes and the sight tugged at your heartstrings. If the situation had been different, you would nag him about these things. But you couldn’t, not without clearing the air between the two of you first.

Once he was done, he turned around to face you, but you turned away and walked to the kitchen, hoping that he followed you there. The foyer was not a good place to have a conversation with–so were the living room and the bedroom–so the kitchen was the only place you could think of. To buy yourself some time, you opened the fridge and grabbed a water bottle for him.

“Here.” You closed the fridge and passed him the bottle, sliding it across the counter to where he was standing on the other side of it. There were at least ten feet between the two of you, and you were thankful that he wasn’t standing so close to you.

“Thanks,” he breathed out but not making a single move to uncap the bottle and take a sip. Instead, he was just looking at it like some kind of strange object.

“What are you doing here?” You asked straightforwardly. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting you to ask that so quickly, since he looked pretty nervous. You saw how he couldn’t even look you in the eyes for more than a few seconds and how he kept licking his lips, a nervous habit that you recognized from all the time you spent with him.

“How are you? Feeling any better?” He decided to ask another set of questions. Leaning with your hand on the counter beside you, you let a bitter chuckle and shook your head faintly.

“I think we’re way past that, Baek.” Your heart beat wildly against your rib cage, feeling like it could burst anytime as you let the words out of your mouth, the cold tone and sharp edge surprising him. It felt like a while as you waited for him to gather his courage and say something. You couldn’t help but watch nervously too as he fidgeted nervously.

Only about a few minutes later, he finally found the courage to finally look at you straight in the eyes and open his mouth. “I’m sorry,” were the first words he said, “for whatever I did in the past that made you so uncomfortable. For not letting you finish talking. For not taking your feelings into consideration over what happened between us. For never answering your questions. I’m just so sorry.”

You let out a loud sigh, quite not expecting him to say those words. You knew he was sincere, though–the emotions that were swirling in his eyes were enough proof for that–but still. It wasn’t enough for you.

“Are you ever going to answer my questions, though?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “Because if you’re not, then you can just leave.”

“I am! I am, I swear. I’ll answer whatever questions you ask to me.” Raising an eyebrow at his words, you decided to test him.

“Who told you where I’m staying? Kyungsoo?” You started, itching to ask this question so you knew who to complain later.

“Sehun did.”

“Sehun? I don’t believe you.” Of course you couldn’t help but be skeptical at his answer. For all you knew, Baekhyun was jealous of Sehun and you could say that it was the root of the problem between the two of you.

Trying to convince you, Baekhyun took two steps forward and glanced at your hands before looking up to look at your face again. “I met him a few days ago, when I stopped by your office. He approached me and told me that you were sick, and… we had a talk.” You didn’t know which one to focus on; the fact that he stopped by your office or that he actually talked with Sehun. “He’s a nice guy. Apparently.”

Rolling your eyes at his words, you retorted. “Well, he is a nice a guy. All this time you’re just too blind by your jealousy, which you have no right at all, and think that he’s gonna take me away from you.”

“And that’s why I told you I’m sorry for that.” He was quick to defend himself. “You need to understand where I’m coming from, okay?”

“Yeah, well, I tried asking you about that but you never answered, remember?” Baekhyun let out a loud sigh and hung his head, as if he was having an internal conflict. You could only watch as he sighed some more and decided to pace back and front in the kitchen. The way he bit his lower lip and kept running his fingers through his hair, messing the already messed-up hair made you nervous of he was about to say.

It took him quite a moment before he finally gathered himself and stopped pacing, moving to stand right in front of you with so little space between the two of you that it made you worried. You were about to ease into it slowly, but he seemed to already take a huge leap. But you couldn’t even focus on that, because what he said next surprised you.

“I made a promise to your brother to never make a pass on you.” You furrowed your eyebrows in disbelief and you swore you could’ve felt your heart stopped beating for a second–although it wasn’t possible but it seemed like it really did.  

“What?” you breathed out just as your hands went shaky a little bit.

“You probably don’t remember it, but I saw you for the very first time at the bar on your brother’s birthday about four years ago. You were there with Kyungsoo, I think, and a few of your friends too, and God, you were so beautiful that night.” You could still remember that night, but you had no recollection of meeting him at all. “I was already a bit tipsy when I saw you, and your brother held me back right when I was about to make a move on you. Told me and everyone to not make a pass on you ever or he’d never forgive them until the day he died.”

This time… This time you felt like your heart really just stopped for a second. Your brother had always been a bit protective in the past–you were aware of that–but this was new to you. This was on another level. How could your brother make Baekhyun promise him that?

“Your brother… he’s nice, you know, and really smart. He’s my senior but he’s surprisingly not an asshole, and he helped me a lot in my first year in med school, you know? And no one has never seen him mad or annoyed, not even me, but you know what they say about people like that, right?” You couldn't say anything. The only thing you could do was just staring at him with bated breath as you tried to repress the many emotions that you felt all at once.

“But he seemed like a different person that night. Not a trace of smile on his face when he held me back. Then, he told me that you’re his sister, and not a person he knew could make a pass on you or date you. No one. And he made me promise him that night.” Baekhyun had a far-off look across his face, as if he was pulled back to what happened in the bar between him and your brother. The bitter, pained smile across his face made your heart crack and feel sorry for him.

“But now that this happened between us… I feel guilty.” He seemed to snap out of the flashback he had and turned to look at you in the eyes. “God. You don’t know how guilty I really feel because of that.” His voice was shaky and his eyes were glassy from the unshed tears, and you couldn’t help but took a step closer to him until he was right in front of you and opened your arms to pull him into a hug.

It felt really good to finally have him in your arms again. He snaked his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, resting his head on your shoulder. The way he relaxed into your arms with shuddering breath told you that it was hard for him, keeping this secret away from you for so long. It must have been nice for him to finally let everything out.

Also, having him in your arms like this also made me think about the situation all over again–about how selfish you had been over everything. Now that you knew what made him act that way, you couldn’t just force him to choose. If you did that, you would only lose him and your friendship, and that was something you didn’t want. It seemed like you had to make another option for yourself.

Rubbing your hands on his back, you started to speak softly, “I know I can’t just make you to stop feeling guilty over it, but you have to try and move on from that. If he knew about what happened with me when he’s gone, I’m sure he’d understand. We are friends before… all of this happened. And even since then, you’ve always been such a good friend for me.”  You chose your words really carefully to make him feel better, but you could feel him shaking his head at your words and pulling back from your embrace.

“But still. I can’t do it. I promised him that night… and now I broke it, and he’s gone.” His eyes were wide again and droppy, and honestly, he looked like he was just tired of everything, but something still held him back. “Besides, you shouldn’t date someone like me. You deserve someone who could be at your beck and call anytime, while I– I’m not like that. The–”

Before he could continue his words, you placed both of your hands on his cheeks and pinched it lightly to stop him from uttering another word. “You listen to me, Byun Baekhyun, okay?” He couldn’t help but nod. “My brother is gone already, and I know you feel guilty because you broke the promise you made to him, but I’m sure– I know he would understand if he’s alive. You’ve helped me a lot, you know?” You held his gaze as you spoke, trying all your might to let him know that you were serious with your words.

“And don’t ever put yourself down like that again. I know you probably have so many reasons why you think like that, but let me tell you something. You’ve been that person, the person who’s at my beck and call since you walked into my ward the night my brother passed away. Despite what you think of yourself, you’ve gone out of your way to make time for me, to cheer me up, to just be there for me so many times before.”

“But I–”

“I’m not done,” you cut him off again. “And I don’t care if you think your career is not stable enough. Have you heard of me complaining about you being a doctor and having sporadic shifts at the ER? No. It’s because I’m only ever going to support you at what you do, and frankly you’re a doctor and you’re damn good at it, and that is something to be proud of, okay?”

He looked surprised–you could see it clearly from the look in his eyes–like he was hearing those words for the first time in his life, like you were the first one to ever say it to him. Seeing the choked up look on his face, you wanted nothing but hug him–every fiber in your body screamed at you to swoop him into your arms–but you held back. Overwhelming him was the last thing that you wanted to do.

Baekhyun let out a sigh and looked at you fondly, but the corners of his lips curled down into a pained smile. He grabbed a hold of your hands that were on his cheeks and gave it a squeeze before letting it down gently to your side. “I love you. I do, but I’m gonna need more time. I can’t just… jump into it.”

You didn’t know which one to focus on; the three words that you wanted so badly to hear from him or the words after that. It didn’t take you long to process his words, though. Although your heart twisted a bit painfully at the realization that you couldn’t have him the way you wanted to, but you had to respect his decision. The meaner side of you didn’t want you to accept this, but you decided to listen to the rational side of you. You couldn’t force it and lose him altogether.  

“I think…” you gulped, “we can start over as friends, if that’s okay with you.” You tried to mask the pain you felt with a small smile and hoped that it was convincing enough. “It’s going to be hard, but I guess I’ll take that. That’s a much better option than losing you.”

He let out a sigh of relief and flashed you a small, thankful smile–this one looked so much better than the pained smile before. You mirrored his smile and looked away from his eyes, turning your gaze on the counter top behind him–anything but his eyes. The two of you stood so close to each other and for once, you let the silence fill in the room. The silence didn’t feel suffocating like it did when the last time you saw him, though. It still didn’t feel as comfortable as you’d like it to be, but it was fine.

“I’m sorry if I pushed you too much in the past.” Baekhyun looked mildly surprised when you broke the silence with those words.

“It’s okay. I get it, really. I must be a pain in the ass for you to handle. I’m sorry too.” This time, his smile was a little teasing and his tone was a little lighter, and you couldn’t be more thankful.

It was going to be hard for both of you, to go back to the starting point of being friends after doing what you both had done together. It would be hard, especially for you, because you knew the aching for him wouldn’t stop, and there would be so many hard days to come where you would feel so tired for holding yourself back. You were perfectly aware it was going to be so hard, but you preferred that any day than having to throw away your friendship with him and lose him altogether. You’d choose the pain of having him close to you but not in the way that you wanted, other than the pain of losing him for your selfish feelings.

[alxspeaks]

As some of you may have noticed, I have been pretty quiet on social media recently. In fact, I went roughly 2 months without as much as opening up a social media app. In total, it was 3 months until I officially made a post from any of my social media accounts. Now this may not seem like such a big deal, but like most of the world’s population I was addicted to social media.

In 2019, it is estimated that there will be around 2.77 billion social media users around the globe and that figure continues to increase (The Statistics Portal).Social media is everything right now: people turn to Twitter before they turn on the news, every business has a social media platform, and it is now the easiest way to contact anyone from your Mom to Cardi B. Everyone is involved in some aspect of social media and it is so easy to get caught up without even realising it. I would often find myself constantly hopping between Facebook, Instagram ,Snapchat and Twitter, scrolling, uploading and posting. It was the first thing I did when I woke up and the last thing before I went to bed. I would stay up late with nothing but the glare from my phone screen glowing on my face as I would constantly follow updates and news feeds. It had gotten to the point where I began to feel uncomfortable without my phone in my hand and whenever I felt a bit socially awkward it was the first thing I would look for. I began to depend on it and this twisted relationship started to trigger a lot of problems for me.

It all began in March 2018 just after my 24th birthday when I started to really notice a big change in my overall mood: 50% of the time I was unhappy and the other 50% I spent worrying and feeling anxious. Throughout my time at University I had been noticing increased anxiety and changes in my mood but after graduation it just seemed to be getting progressively worse. It came to a point where my overall outlook on life was consistently negative and I was miserable, unable to eat, sleep or think clearly. I had this feeling that I was just a total failure at everything and I was finding it extremely difficult to cope with life. I was really scared of the thoughts going through my head and I felt as though I had no control over my emotions. Although I had felt overwhelmed and stressed before, I knew that this was different but I had no idea what was happening to me. I sought advice from a friend who I knew was open about her mental health journey and after speaking to her I took a huge leap and decided to refer myself to my local mental health team.

This was just the worst thing for me as I hate drawing any attention to myself, yet, here I was,  preparing to talk to total strangers about my life. I started doing my own research into the way that I was feeling and I began to discover that I had symptoms similar to that of Anxiety.These were symptoms that I had been suffering with with for over 5 years and I had just put it down to stress or to me simply overreacting and being silly. I was later diagnosed with Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD) Social Phobia and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. MAD! One day i’m just me trying to live my best life, and the next I suddenly have three Anxiety Disorders that I now have to manage and understand. The change was huge and I felt as though I had to learn who I was all over again as all of this time I had been living with a mental health condition that I knew nothing about. It’s crazy to think that if I hadn't taken my health into my own hands I would have never had any answers for the way that I had been feeling all of these years.

There were various different factors that had led up to this point in my life, University being the main one as that was when I had my first signs of anxiety: my self-confidence had really plummeted and I found myself feeling completely lost. After graduation, everything just seemed to be going wrong like my entire future was slipping away from me and I was helpless to stop it (Post-Graduate Depression see article links below). I was under way too much pressure from myself, my family (being the sole carer for two parents with long term illnesses), and from life in general with no help and no one who could truly understand. I was really unsettled and didn’t have anywhere to truly call my home. Job rejections had just become so commonplace that I didn’t even realise how much it was affecting my self confidence. Family and friends that I thought I could count on had all left and in the space of about 3 weeks my friendship circle had more than halved, at a time when I needed the most support I felt truly alone. During this time, I was still active on social media scrolling away, but the more I scrolled the worse it made me feel about my own life and each time I put down my phone after being on social media I felt upset. At times, I was even drawn to tears. Not only was it lowering my self-esteem and fueling the ideas in my head that ‘I am a failure’, it was also a huge trigger for my Anxiety. Once I realised this, I knew I had to take action, but I honestly didn’t know how. Then, one day, I went to spend some time with one of my closest friends and she said four life changing words to me. ‘You have a choice’. As obvious as this may seem I had genuinely forgotten that I actually have the option to choose whether or not to participate in social media. She explained that she had been through a similar experience and that she had to set herself some very strict rules. One of them was that she only logged in when she was making a social media post and logged out straight after; she never scrolled! That was all the advice I needed and I immediately logged out of all my social media accounts and guess what? The world didn’t end and I finally felt as though I had control over one aspect of my life. I now controlled social media; it did not control me. The moment I logged out, I didn’t feel the urge to log back in for months. However, I still found myself reaching for my phone out of habit. So, to shift my focus, I downloaded apps that are constructive uses of my time such as wordscapes, Duolingo (started learning new languages) and Headspace (mindfulness meditation).

Throughout all of this I was still struggling whilst awaiting my first counselling appointment on a 3 month waiting list, but I put on a brave face, carrying on with business as usual. Then, one day, I snapped. I had a huge panic attack and during this whole episode I accidently smashed my phone. I had completely given up on life and I felt as though no one understood what I was going through.

So, there I was, completely broken and no phone, no contacts, no apps, nothing! Ordinarily I would have been even more of a mess after breaking my phone, but I later found that this gave me the push I needed to understand that I don’t need to be contacting people all the time and people don’t always need to be updated on my every move. In fact, it’s when I am most quiet on social media that I am working my hardest, and at this particular time it was vital that I put all of my efforts into working on me and my well being.

In addition to this, (I have a confession to make, here it goes…) I haven't picked up a pencil in over a year! Unfortunately I have not been able to design as much as a vest since last year summer. When my mental health deteriorated, so did my creative flow. However, I did not see it at the time so I just put more pressure on myself to create a new collection until it made me sick and my body started to shut down. I went without sleep, food, water, social life, pretty much everything a human needs to function. I was forcing myself to produce work in ridiculous time frames, frantically trying to prove to myself and the world that I am good enough. The fact that I couldn’t think clearly just caused me more frustration but mostly I didn't want to let everyone down: all of you who believe in me and my creative talent. I already felt like a failure in my own eyes and I didn’t want anyone else to think the same. My desire was to be constantly seen on social media doing amazing things in fashion but that just wasn’t my reality.

The truth is, I had built up so much pressure around myself and my fashion career that it became a huge anxiety trigger for me. As a result, I haven't been able to return to my beautiful design studio in nearly a year. Me, Alex, who lives and breathes fashion. I wrestled with the idea for a long time but I was forced to take an extended break from fashion design and my other projects until I saw some improvement in my mental health. I once said that if I was to suddenly die I wouldn’t be upset because I was no longer alive, I would be upset because I didn’t get the chance to live a life that I enjoyed living. I had to take a break and readjust my whole life, it was seriously a matter of life and death; I had to put my fashion career on hold.

I’ve heard of so many artists, musicians and writers taking creative breaks and now I completely understand why. My creativity is such a huge part of me but it only works when i’m in good health. Anything that I create outside of that is just not a clear representation of me as an artist. I was so focused on trying to live my best life through the eyes of others that I forgot to look after myself. Right now, living my best life currently looks like attending my therapy sessions, remembering to breathe, drinking plenty of water and practicing mindfulness. I plan to take as much time as I need to focus on me and my health so that I can come back stronger and produce something that’s true to who I am as a designer when I am at my best. So next time you see me, don’t ask how my collection is going, ask me how I am doing!

We often look at people who do great things and admire them from afar. In our eyes they might seem like the best and the brightest and it’s easy to assume that all is well with them. But, my experience has shown me that this is one of the most dangerous assumptions a person could make. I was still going through all of this trauma when I was raising the money for my collection, when my shirt design was sold in Hawes and Curtis and when I became one of Birmingham’s 30under30 finalists. I realised that I had been wearing a happy mask and suffering in silence for years until it eventually fell down and I was left to deal with everything that I have been hiding from. It came to the point where I was just waiting for someone, anyone, to ask me if I was ok. Then, finally, I took my health into my own hands and bravely asked for help.

I am currently undergoing therapy sessions with the best therapist ever and we are working through small steps to help me get better. I finally have somewhere safe that I can call my home and i’ve started spending more time doing things that I enjoy like being outdoors and writing poetry. I also started doing yoga and practicing mindfulness meditation so I can learn how to switch off when my head is just doing the most (the Headspace app has literally saved my life, check it out). My relationship with social media is now so much better and I have set rules for myself #noscrolling and I logout after every session. I have seen huge improvements in my mental health, self-esteem and body confidence since doing this and I just feel generally more positive about life. I still have a very long way to go and I am nowhere near better yet but each day I learn something new and I make progress.

I logged out of social media and it was one the best decisions I have ever made for myself. On my 24th birthday I told myself that this was going to be the year of me and so far it has been. Although it has been my most difficult year to date I have been forced to focus on me and put my health first because, at the end of the day, that is what is most important.

For more information about Anxiety Disorders and mental health advice check out these links below.

For Useful Contacts

https://birminghammind.org/contact-page/emergency-contacts/

For Information

YouTube- The 5 Major Anxiety Disorders

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzaNQAh3NiY&t=7s

Mind

https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/types-of-mental-health-problems/anxiety-and-panic-attacks/anxiety-disorders/#.W6GCdy2ZNsM

Beyond Blue

https://www.beyondblue.org.au/the-facts/anxiety/types-of-anxiety

Post-Graduate Depression

https://metro.co.uk/2017/07/17/why-is-no-one-talking-about-post-graduate-depression-6760769/

https://www.topuniversities.com/blog/we-need-talk-about-post-graduation-depression

References

The Statistics Portal https://www.statista.com/statistics/278414/number-of-worldwide-social-network-users/

[brawlers-comet]

Banking On It (part two)

~

Plop. A hand came over her schoolwork. "Do you want to hang out today?"

Valerie looked up at her friend, who had sat down in the chair across from her. "I'm sorry. I can't. I have work after school."

Her friend, Reba, had a frown on her face. She had looked all around for her in this free period, and had found her here in the library just barely. All for that answer!

"Lame. Just call in! It's been too long since we've hung out." She urged.

Valerie smiled. "Just sit here with me. Do we really have to hang out in public to be friends?"

"No," Reba sighed, "But it's like... you've changed? Or... I don't know. You're not mad at me, are you?"

"Why would I be mad at you?" Valerie answered, casually leaning her head on her hand. Her eyes lowered to her paper again.

"So you are mad?" Reba asked.

"I'm past that." Valerie admitted. She glanced at the open textbook next to her. "But it is why I'm planning to take things more seriously."

"So I'm not serious in your life?" Reba asked dramatically, clutching her heart and emitting fake sobs.

"Shh..!" Valerie laughed, "You're going to get me in trouble with Mrs. Whitlow."

Reba opened an eye from her theatrics. "Ugh, you know her name? Nerd!"

"She's a good librarian." Valerie shook her head and shrugged lightly. "Now, are you gonna stay? Because I am not going to get in trouble."

"Fine, fine. I'll stay quiet for now. I do need to study anyway..." Reba brought her binder up, and unzipped it. "Just know that I'm not gonna accept this new 'chic geek' thing from you every time. Tell me when your next day off is, Valerie!"

The brunette smiled. "I'll... check the schedule today, and I'll text you after work." She promised.

"I'm holding you to that," Reba grinned. She tucked a short lock of auburn hair behind her ear. It stayed there for a few seconds before it slipped back to frame her face.

Wild, rebellious. Sometimes she wished she could have held onto her anger, and acted out in more of an outburst like Reba would no doubt done. But no. It was calm and sensible, mild-mannered Valerie, as usual. Always-taking-the long-route Valerie. "I know." She said.

"Good." Reba remarked, before peering down at Valerie's work. "So what is that? Can I copy?"

"No, but I'll help you with it." Valerie said. Maybe... she could stand to readjust her plan for Reba however. In this, she's done no wrong.

~

Work that day was busy. It was a Friday night, so it was to be expected. Tirelessly, Valerie went back and forth and waited the tables in her area diligently.

She took her breaks down to every second. The restaurant she worked at had good food! Though Valerie looked over her selection every night. Since she would be paying with her tips she wanted to make sure she'd get the best option...

She's been working here for months, and her garnered reputation was mostly on the positive side. She was the youngest waitress there, but the cooks and other workers were fond of her already.

"Such a smart and frugal young woman," the manager would chuckle. "Gonna be a business owner when you're older?"

"That's the plan." Valerie answered, nibbling on the grilled chicken and lettuce on her fork. "I decided to make everything I do count towards college."

"What made you decide so early?" He wondered. It wasn't every day he hired a high schooler who actually took things more seriously than some of the people who worked here.

Valerie shrugged dismissively. "It's just more efficient."

"I see. Well since you're planning long-term, what do you say to keeping this place in your plans?"

Valerie mused over this. "Well, it depends. At the amount I'm being paid now...."

The manager chuckled. "If you stay that long, you'll get raises of course. But not as a waitress,. I'm suggesting that starting now, I train you to be a manager one day."

"A manager?" Valerie was surprised. "You think I can?" She paused. No doubt, really. It would just be more work. Her time management would be even better too, considering she could pick and choose college hours. The work experience would be valuable! The important question was, "How much would I get paid?"

This time, the manager just howled with laughter. "Such a go-getter. We'll discuss that if you're still here in a year or two."

Valerie nodded. "Okay. ...I'll be up for it!"

"Hey, sir?" A worker poked his head into the break room, the manager made a face but turned anyway.

"What?"

"We need you up front sir."

The manager sighed. As always, never a true break. "Of course," he said as he stood.

The manager walked out of sigh, but the cook still hovered around the doorway. Valerie was too focused on her meal to notice at first.

"Hey, Valerie?" He called.

"Hm?" The brunette turned to him. Oh, it was Cal.

"Can you stay late tonight?" He asked.

"Sure I can. It's Friday."

"Great," he smiled, before slipping away.

~

After work, she was extremely tired. It was nearly midnight, so no surprise there.

She bid her coworkers a good night and unlocked her bike from the rack located at the back of the restaurant.

"Drive safe!" Her manager told her.

"Always," she waved. With that, she pedaled away down the dark streets.

"I swear." The manager muttered with a shake of his head. "How do her parents feel about her taking on so much? Staying out this late?"

"Who knows," one of the waitresses leaned heavily on her car door. "They might have an app tracker or something?"

"Hmm," the manager wasn't sure. But, ah well, he shrugged and bid farewell to the rest of his workers.

~

It was about 15 or 20 minutes later when she neared the house. She hopped off her bike about a block away, and walked the rest of the way. It wasn't super necessary, but Valerie enjoyed the slower moments of the night, before she entered the house and prepared for bed.

It was cool and breezy. As she stepped her bike over the curb with a soft smile, she put up her bike in the garage. Then, she stepped back to the side of the house where the window to her bedroom was hidden behind a bush.

Valerie exhaled softly, a faint smile at her lips. Before she entered and washed up and let fatigue catch up to her until she slept, she decided to sit idly on the grass for a few more minutes.

She looked up to the moon. Light calmly stooped down, grazing the fences and streets in the surrounding area. Times like these just felt her with some inner peace.

Oh, and that somehow reminded her of Reba. Valerie shifted and picked her phone out of her pocket. She unlocked her phone and scrolled through her contacts for her friend.

Hey. Are you still awake?

Valerie gazed up at the moon whilst she waited for an answer.

A few minutes later, she received it.

Yeah. About time! Did you seriously just get off?

Valerie paused. Yes.. why?

I should be asking you that!

Valerie smiled and sent a "💸" as her answer before she stood up to head inside through her window.

Once she got through and closed the window, she sat on her bed and checked her phone.

🙄 Crazy ass.

Okay. I'll remember that when you ask me for money.

No Vallie pls okay you aren't that much of a crazy ass

Valerie laughed, and took her shoes off.

So, Reba sent another message, are you up for anything, uh, tomorrow then? Saturday.

Oh, sure. What did you have in mind? Would it be fine if it’s in the afternoon?

Valerie stood up and left her phone on her bed. She exited her room and tiptoed to the hallway bathroom. She washed her face, brushed her teeth and dried off. Then, she returned to her room.

The brunette took off her work uniform and changed into oversized comfortable clothing to sleep in, throwing her dirty clothes in the basket.

Finally, she lay down in her bed, climbed under her covers and pawed around for her phone. Sure enough, Reba had long since texted her. It was a long block.

That's perfect actually. I've been wanting to go to that amusement park everybody's talking about.

Valerie made a face here. Expensive, she was already thinking about a rough price estimate for everything. Entry, rides, food. Maybe if there was some package deal, and we split the cost...

Her thoughts trailed as she continued reading.

It's free to get in, but I'm guessing everything inside is marked up. But I say it's worth a look see. At worst, it'll be a walk and lunch there. So is that fine? I'm looking forward to it.

Valerie mulled over it, thoughts of sleepiness beginning to distract her. It wouldn't hurt to try. Free entry sounded great. No doubt it's how they encouraged people to visit.

The brunette yawned, and tapped out her response.

That sounds perfect. I'm looking forward to it too. See you tomorrow. Bye. Good night.

She had just given three departing terms in a row, but she was hardly aware of it. Valerie was exhausted, and she fell asleep nearly as soon as she pressed send.

....

Oh, thought you fell asleep already. The place is called Starr Park, btw. We'll talk through the details tomorrow. Good night, Vallie!

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Cover You In Oil, pt3

Word Count: 6113 Tags: @outside-the-government, @yourtropegirl @to-pick-ourselves-up-7, @ghostssss, @rampant-salamander

Central Park had a totally different feel than the boardwalk at home, Sally reflected as she wove and dodged through foot traffic on her morning run. There were more people, the air was cooler, and the feel of her feet on the paved path was so very different than the wooden boardwalk that stretched across the beachfront in front of her home. The sweat felt the same though.

Sally had awakened tense and irritable. She’d tossed and turned all night long, barely sleeping. She knew she’d been kept awake by the reality of her soulmate being just a few floors away, knowing she existed. She had felt the inexplicable pull to him since he’d first uttered his words to her, two days ago. The draw to be near him was like a weight on her chest. While trying to swim. Every time she denied the urge to go to him, she felt as though she might sink under the waves and drown.

“Drama much, Manners? Jesus,” she stopped to take a few wheezing breaths and shook her head, embarrassed by the exaggerated metaphors whirling around in her head. She wondered if Stark – Tony, she corrected herself – was feeling the same way. She took a deep breath and started running again, pushing herself until her brain let go of the miasma of worry about Tony Stark, and just thought about making it to the end of the run.

She took a long, hot shower after her run, allowing the water to beat down on her sore muscles until she was fully relaxed. She toweled off in the bathroom, wiping her arm across the steamy mirror to look at herself, to try to see the way Tony had described her. The spray of freckles across her nose made her look like a little girl, she thought. And her eyes were a pale blue that wasn’t anything special, framed by eyelashes so blonde you could hardly see them. She dropped the towel and stared hard at her reflection. She was pear-shaped. Not wildly so, but she was broad through the thighs and ass. Part of that was the runner’s physique. Her breasts were smaller than she would have liked. They weren’t tiny, but they weren’t in proportion to her hips, which made it awkward fitting dresses and buying bathing suits. It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant body, and Sally knew that. She wasn’t rabid about fitness like most of the women she’d encountered since she’d moved to California, but she was active, loving to be outside in the sun. But being in a culture of women who were obsessed with their personal brand because it was part of their work made her question her own body. She wrapped her towel around herself and padded across the suite to her room to get dressed before riding the elevator to the garage.

The bay beside the Challenger was filled with another shipment of parts and pieces that Sally had ordered. She quickly reconciled the pick slip against her inventory before climbing back under the chassis. She quickly inspected the chassis for structural weaknesses; marking any spots she felt needed reinforcement or repair.

Welding was one of Sally’s favourite things about working on cars because you could actually watch the car become stronger. It was like an allegory for human relationships. Just as a friend could shore up your weaknesses, and make you stronger, reinforcing the frame of a vehicle could give the car new life. It wasn’t a completely perfect metaphor, but it was something Sally often found herself considering when she was welding new into old. The arc of the torch sputtered and threw a spray of sparks all around her as she worked. When her reinforcements were complete, she took the grinder to the chassis and smoothed everything out, taking the time to buff off the rust as well, and give it a final inspection. It looked good. She washed up and grabbed from her iPad to note her progress, but couldn’t find it.

“Fuck! JARVIS?” Sally looked up at the ceiling, annoyed.

“Yes, Ms. Manners?” She wasn’t sure if she found the masculine British accent creepy or soothing. With her iPad missing, she was leaning towards creepy.

“My iPad?” She asked.

“Mr. Stark retrieved it this morning to clone to your new StarkPad,” JARVIS almost sounded apologetic.

“Can you figure out a way to get it back to me?” She asked. “It has all my schematics on it. I don’t know that there’s an app for that in StarkPadLand.” She sighed heavily and boosted herself up onto the tool bench.

“I will have it returned to you within the next fifteen minutes,” JARVIS promised. Sally hopped down and decided to forage for something to drink.

“No hurry, provided you tell me where I can get a cup of coffee?” She asked.

“There is a commissary for SI staff on the ground floor, but Mr. Barton reports that the coffee there is like horse urine mixed with cat emesis. There’s a Starbucks in the lobby on the main floor. There is a communal kitchen for residents of the tower on level 63, where you will find a coffee maker and food. There is currently a fresh pot of coffee brewing,” JARVIS listed.

“Level 63 it is then,” Sally nodded and headed toward the elevator. Sally leaned against the back wall of the elevator and tapped her foot to the muzak, not really paying attention as the floors passed by on the illuminated sign. She was midway through the elevator trip when she realized it was hard rock muzak and giggled. The duration of the short ride was spent trying to figure out what was playing. She gave up when the doors opened. “JARVIS, what was playing?”

“AC/DC, Ms. Manners.” Sally strode off the elevator directly toward the coffee maker in the kitchen. The glass-fronted cabinet above the coffee maker held a variety of coffee cups, some of them looking better worn than others. Residents obviously had favourite cups. She flipped through them, determined to find one that did not show signs of frequent use, but stopped at the one that she assumed must be Tony’s, based on the ‘because fuck you, I own the company’ etched across is. She filled the cup nearly to the brim and then rummaged around until she found a banana in the fruit dish. She sat at the table, and flipped through her email, thanking whatever deities she could think of that she still had a grip on her iPhone.

While she chewed her banana and waited for her coffee to reach a drinkable temperature, she responded to an inquiry about work overseas. She’d been receiving increasing numbers of inquiries about working on cars in Europe for the past six months or so. She was kind of interested, as the main inquiry was coming from a collector in Latveria, and Latveria had closed borders. It would be interesting to see a place that so few outsiders had seen. She was startled out of her contemplation by the heavy slap of her iPad on the table in front of her. She looked up and smiled at Clint.

“So you’re the sneaky one?” Sally asked.

“Actually Nat’s much better at sneaky. I just happened to see it first. Vested interest,” he shrugged. “How’s my baby this morning?”

Sally opened her schematics and scrolled through to her action list. She’d developed the app with the help of a neighbour who was a computer programmer, and as she marked tasks complete, it generated new tasks based on an algorithm from previous projects. She cleared the task list, and waited as it repopulated with another list.

“Today I start the engine rebuild, but first follow-up with the machine shop. I’m waiting on the head gaskets right now. I like having everything on hand before I start.” She read through the list and nodded to herself. “Just dirty work today mostly. Not a lot of fun. Once I have the engine rebuilt, we’ll sit down and talk about the interior. I’ve had a great upholsterer recommended and I should have samples today for you to look over.” She took a long pull off her coffee. It was strong and rich, and the smell made her close her eyes and just enjoy.

“You probably only have about twenty minutes before Tony realizes that iPad is missing, Sally,” Clint warned her.

“My estimate puts it at seven minutes, thirty-four point six seconds,” JARVIS commented. Sally snapped the cover closed on the device and picked it and her coffee up.

“That’s my cue to get back to work then,” Sally commented as she headed back toward the elevator. Back at the car, she flipped through the schematics for the engine and started sorting her parts. She noticed when Tony arrived this time, but chose to keep working instead of stopping and waiting on him to approach her.

“I have your StarkPad here,” he started. Sally turned, her eyebrow raised.

“Does it have my proprietary apps on it? Because I don’t recall agreeing to allowing this app on more than the iOS platform,” Sally challenged him, meeting his gaze.

“I was in the process of rebuilding your app when you stole your iPad –“

“I can’t steal what already belongs to me, Tony.” Sally rolled her eyes. She slapped her hand down on top of the iPad when Tony moved to take it again. “Dude, I need it. I live and die by my app. I appreciate the amusing and weirdly possessive gesture, but I need my iPad for work.”

Tony sighed and leaned against the tool bench. “Let me work on the app at night then? When you aren’t working on the car?”

“I thought nighttime was for courtship, Tony?” Sally teased. “It should also be for homework. You know nothing about me.”

“I know more than you realize.” Tony was a little peevish in his response. “You buy an alarming amount of things online.”

“Analyzing my online purchases isn’t going to help you. I buy a lot of stuff for work online!” Sally laughed.

“I don’t think your armour bra was for work. Or the size 8 Brooks running shoes. Is it weird I find your running gear purchasing more sexy than your lingerie purchases?” He deadpanned.

“Not really, since I don’t buy lingerie online,” Sally retorted. “My armour bra is about as close as it gets. It’s not really sexy though, unless you’re into compressed and flattened and not going to move an inch.”

“Well, can we assume that nighttime is for courtship, homework and adapting your app for use on the StarkPad?” Tony conceded. He’d given in too easily, Sally realized, but she went with it anyhow.

“Sure.” She turned back to the engine. Tony leaned against the workbench and watched as she puzzled through assembling part of the transmission.

“Is that my coffee cup?” He suddenly asked, spying the coffee cup beside Sally.

“I don’t know. Is it?” Sally raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t see a ‘hands off, property of Tony Stark’ label on it.”

“Oh god, are we already into the what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is mine shit?” Tony laughed. Sally smirked and shook her head.

“Go away. You’re distracting me,” she demanded. Tony stuck out his tongue and pushed forward, taking a step toward her. He brushed her ponytail over her shoulder and pressed his lips against her neck.

“Who is distracting?” He asked. “Because I’m pretty sure I have things I need to be working on, but there’s this spot right here on your shoulder that just looks neglected.”

“It does, does it?” Sally bit back a snort of amusement. Tony’s lips pressed against the nape of her neck again and she shivered involuntarily. She wriggled out of his reach, pushing off the stool she was sitting on and leveling a glare at Tony. “I’m busy, dude. If you want to do this courtship thi-“ She was interrupted by her phone ringing. “Hello, this is Sally.”

As she turned away from Tony, her brow furrowed. “What? What do you mean?” She paused and then laughed. “Oh for sure! Yeah, I’ll head over this afternoon,” she paused and nodded. “No, of course not, I can’t spend all my time out here cooped up in a garage. I’ll see you this afternoon.” She disconnected the call, and turned back to Tony.

“So, where are we going?” Tony asked. Sally sighed.

“I need to go to the machine shop about some of the parts,” Sally said. “I don’t know where you were planning on going.”

“How many times have you been to New York?” Tony countered.

“Some,” Sally shrugged. It was very few, and she’d mostly just be there for shows.

“So you totally know your way around?” He challenged.

“Yes?” She cringed. He was calling her bluff and it was effective.

“Do you want me to give you a lift? I can stay in the car, not make a scene,” he offered. Sally sighed again and bit her lip.

“Okay. But no distracting anyone. Not me, not the guys, no one,” she bargained. He nodded. “Now fuck off, I have work to do.”

Tony gasped and then laughed. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Play your cards right, I might even kiss you with it,” Sally winked. “Now go!”

“I’m taking my coffee cup,” Tony leaned over to grab the mug.

“Touch it and I will kill you. Billionaire, Avenger, whatever. You’ll make a pretty corpse,” she threatened. Tony’s hands shot up and he backed away. When he was out of arm’s reach, he smirked.

“Not sure whether I’m turned on or terrified. That’s almost a turn on all by itself,” he remarked. Sally threw a dirty rag at him, and he laughed and hustled away from the car toward the front of the garage.

The machine shop was everything Sally loved about restoration. There was a calendar from the seventies with a pin-up sprawled across the hood of a corvette on the wall, and oil stains on the floor. In the back, in a walled in room, was the cleanest machining set-up she’d seen in years. A balding guy, not much taller than Tony, approached, rubbing his hands on a dirty, oil-stained rag. He had a layer of stubble on his chin and his coveralls were in the same filthy, torn condition that Sally’s were back home in California.

“Sally? That’s quite the car you brought,” the guy nodded toward the open garage bay, where Tony had parked his Audi R8. He was sitting in the driver’s seat, playing with his phone.

“Nothing like the Challenger I’m restoring, Paul. You should see it,” Sally laughed. “I’m not the best at directions, so I brought a local.”

“A local! Sweetheart, everyone knows Tony Stark,” Paul laughed.

“Well, he insisted,” Sally shrugged. “Anyhow, the head gaskets?” She redirected the conversation.

“Yeah, we fabbed them off the originals you sent us, but they don’t line up right. I’m going to redo them, and will have them to you this evening. I’ll drop them off for you myself. But I also wanted to give you this,” Paul presented her with a new steering wheel. “We heard the car was for the Hawkeye. He’s given a lot back to the community.”

The steering wheel was super cool, Sally thought. The three spokes coming off the centre hub were stylized arrows. The steel had been heat tempered until it had turned purple, and the wheel itself was wrapped in black leather with purple piping.

“Wow,” Sally breathed. “This is fabulous.”

“Barton’s good people, Sally,” Paul explained. “Make that car fabulous. Anything you need, you let me know.”

“Thanks Paul,” Sally nodded. “I’ll be in touch.” She offered his hand and appreciated the firm handshake he gave. She headed back to the car and slid into the passenger seat, carefully settling the gift in her lap.

“That’s for Legolas?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, I guess he lives around here somewhere?” Sally shrugged.

“Right,” Tony nodded, shifting the car into gear and pulling away from the garage. “Where’s your head gaskets?”

“Not ready. Paul said they’d be ready this afternoon, so I either work on the car tonight or I’m a day delayed,” Sally hedged. She was nervous about this notion of courtship that Tony had in his mind. There was too much touching already, and they’d only been to dinner once. Tony turned left out onto the main road they’d come from Midtown on.

“Stay on an extra day,” he shrugged. “I guess that gives us this afternoon?”

“Well, I could be working on other stuff. I should be making Clint choose from upholstery samples for his interior.” Sally didn’t recognize the buildings they were passing, and realized Tony had turned away from Midtown. “Where are we going?”

“God’s a skeeball addict,” Tony quipped. The quote seemed familiar, and Sally wrinkled her nose trying to recall where she’d heard it. “Coffee?”

“God, yes,” she breathed, distracted. Tony pulled into a parking lot and disappeared inside a Starbucks, returning a few minutes later with two cups of coffee. One of them said ‘Iron Man’ on the side of it. The other said ‘Friend’. Sally raised an eyebrow and took the offered cup. “Friend?”

“I’m not about to announce in a Starbucks that I’ve met my soulmate. Media frenzy. And then suddenly, you’re in danger. Because hi, Iron Man.” Tony turned back onto the street and continued away from Midtown.

“You still haven’t answered me,” Sally commented, inhaling the aroma of her coffee. It was strong and just the scent alone was enough to push back the niggling headache that was threatening her. She’d only had one cup of coffee since getting up. She was reasonably sure her circulatory system was more caffeine than blood at this point in her life. One cup just no longer cut it.

“Can nothing be a surprise to you?” Tony asked, his tone light. “It might be weird if you’re a huge control freak. Because I am also a huge control freak. In my experience, one control freak is enough in a relationship, and technically I’m older, so I came into that character flaw first.” Tony never looked away from the road as he spoke, but the corner of his mouth tilted up just enough that Sally understood he was half-teasing.

“So what you’re saying is that I should just let you kidnap me to god-knows-where because you’re an old man and God loves skeeba-“ Sally trailed off. “Are you seriously taking me to Coney Island?”

“I’m not sure if you can tell that I am relieved that you figured that out on your own. I don’t know if I could have been with a person who doesn’t know Dogma.” Tony’s relief appeared genuine.

“It was a great movie,” Sally shrugged. “I have a question. Since we’re on this whole getting to know you thing.”

“Shoot.”

“You said something about being mostly attracted to women when I first spoke to you?” Sally knew it wasn’t a question, but she posed it as one anyhow.

“You avoided me for over twenty years. My guess is because you followed gossip mostly.” Tony’s voice took on a very serious tone. “There wasn’t a whole lot of inaccuracies in the gossip, if I’m completely honest with you. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, I just –“

“You’ve known ever since your mark showed up that you would be with a man. My mark made me think I would wind up with one too. It was pretty difficult,” he sighed deeply before continuing, “it was really difficult to reconcile that I really prefer women. Like my soulmark was some sort of cosmic joke, destined to be with a man, but preferring the company of women.”

“But you can’t just choose to prefer one or the other, Tony. It’s hardwired into your brain,” Sally argued.

“I know. I don’t dislike men. I just prefer women. I figured whoever he was; he was going to be amazing. So I stayed open to the possibility.” They were stopped at a red light, and he turned to look at her. Sally met his gaze.

“You’re a surprising man, Tony Stark,” Sally admitted. She was seeing him in a different light, despite his admission that he was everything she’d ever read about him. He seemed like all those things, but human too. And vulnerable. Because humanity is vulnerable.

“Are you okay with that?” Tony asked. “That I’m bi?”

“Yes.” Sally knew better than to offer a lighthearted comment or retort. He didn’t know her well enough to know how she would react and he was showing a different kind of bravery than was required to wear the Iron Man suit. “Besides,” she added, to lighten the mood, “You’re mine now, so what does it matter?”

“Have you ever?” He trailed off, looking back at the road when the light changed.

“No. Like you said, I grew up knowing I would end up with a man. Even if I had been interested elsewhere, what would the point have been? There was nothing to force me to remain open-minded,” Sally shook her head.

“Wait, did you just say I’m yours now?” Tony asked, turning his head to look at her again. Sally could feel her cheeks flushing, and tried to avoid looking back at him, but even from the corner of her eye, she should see the self-satisfied smirk on his face. She groaned inwardly. He was going to be completely impossible as a result.

“Shut up or I’ll take it back,” she grumbled.

Coney Island was exactly as she expected it be, while at the same time being completely different. When she said as much to Tony, he laughed at her.

“Let me guess,” he chuckled. “Just as cheesy as you expected, but a lot cleaner?”

“Less cheesy I think?” Sally pondered. “I don’t know. I was definitely expecting cheesy and it is. But there’s something about it. Is it because it’s such a landmark? I grew up hearing about Coney Island. Pops had shipped out from New York for the war, and he spent a couple weeks here before he left. He raved about it. And then, when I was a kid and we were here, Pops wouldn’t take us near it, it was so rundown and sketchy. I guess I was just expecting some of what Pops saw that saddened him.”

“Your Pops had a pretty big influence on your life, it seems,” Tony commented.

“Yeah. Mom and Dad were one of those couples that were so in love they didn’t really see the rest of the world around them. Don’t get me wrong, they loved me and I was the centre of their universe completely. But come summer time, I would head to stay with Nan and Pops for a couple of months, while Mom and Dad vacationed together. When Dad followed Mom back to Seattle, I think they missed him. And Nan and Pops didn’t get much chance to come visit us. Pops was always busy running the farm. So I would go stay with them for the summer, and get spoiled rotten, and Mom and Dad would get a year’s worth of date nights in about six weeks time,” Sally explained. “How about you?”

“My Dad was already old when I was born. If he’d had parents to ship me to, I’m sure he would have.” Tony’s jaw went tight, and Sally sensed there was more to that story. “Jarvis was more like a parent for much of my childhood.”

“JARVIS your AI?” Sally gaped.

“No, Jarvis was the butler,” Tony laughed. “I thought you’d done your homework on me?”

“Just on your manwhore ways,” Sally quirked an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, Tony. I didn’t know.”

“Hot dog?” He stopped walking in front of Nathan’s, changing the topic completely. Sally looked up at the sign and back to Tony. He was clearly finished talking about his Dad, and as much as Sally thought he probably needed years of therapy to untangle the complexity of what hadn’t been said about Howard Stark in those few words, she knew she wasn’t getting anything else out of him while they were out.

“Uh, yeah.” She allowed him to thread his fingers between hers and drag her toward the restaurant. He ordered while Sally took in the restaurant around her. She turned around and looked around. Tony distracted her woolgathering by waving the hot dog under her nose and tilting his head toward one of the empty tables outside. She smirked and followed, sitting down at one of the round cement tables. Tony sat beside her and handed the dog to her.

“Are you a puker?” He asked, dropping his hand on the hot dog before she could pick it up. Sally furrowed her brow and shook her head.

“Not as a general rule,” she narrowed her eyes, and lifted his hand off her hot dog. Before he could react, she lifted it and took a bite. It was delicious. “Oh my god, this is amazing.”

“So if I were to take you on the roller coaster, I couldn’t get a hot dog coating?” Tony asked between bites of his hot dog.

“Dude, I repair cars for a living. At some point, do you think I might have driven one really really fast?” She teased. “I’m good.”

Tony smirked at her and watched her finish her hot dog in silence. It made her a little self-conscious, but she wasn’t oblivious to the wonder in his gaze either. It made her feel special.

“You have some mustard on your face,” he gestured vaguely to her left side. She flushed a little, and wiped her face with a napkin, raising her eyebrows in question as she wadded the napkin up in her fist. He nodded, but shifted his weight so that their hips were pressed against each other on the cement bench. His face drew close to hers and Sally forced herself to breath and not move when he got so close she could feel his warm breath on her skin. She closed her eyes, not quite sure what to anticipate. His mustache brushed against her cheek, and then she felt his tongue flick across the edge of her lip. She sucked in her breath through her nose and opened her eyes.

“There was a tiny bit left,” Tony explained. Sally’s heart crashed in her chest, waiting for more, but Tony just leaned away and pushed up from the bench with a cocky, self-assure smirk.

“You’re an asshole,” she huffed, collecting her garbage and turning away from him toward the garbage can. She could hear his laugh as she flounced away, and as she fought with the dirty flap on the garbage can lid, trying to avoid touching it, his arms slipped around her waist, and he dropped a kiss on the side of her neck.

“I am. But I need you to want me,” he murmured. Sally felt her eyes fill with tears and she blinked them back quickly. He wanted her to want him, not pity him. She finally managed to get the grubby flap to swing open without her hand touching it, and dropped her garbage. She turned back to face Tony.

“And licking the mustard off me is the way to do that?” She teased. Tony shrugged and dropped his arm over her shoulder.

“You don’t seem like the kind of woman who would be impressed with me buying you a corporation or small country, so I thought I’d start small,” he quipped back. Sally let out a warm laugh.

“No, I don’t find the thought of being a CEO or a despot particularly appealing.” She snaked her arm around his back and looped a finger through his belt loop as they walked.

“See? We have a lot in common. I don’t like those things either.” His laughed was nice, Sally thought.

“Didn’t you say something about a roller coaster?” Sally changed the subject. Tony nodded ahead of them.

“Just through there, Ms. Manners,” he winked. Sally looked up, and sure enough, just across the street, beyond the roofs of the midway games and other rides, rose the imposing latticework of the Cyclone.

“You’re sure you won’t puke? These shoes were –“

“Shut up and get in the car, Tony,” Sally gave him a none-to-gentle shove. “Are you sure you won’t?”

“Iron Man. I don’t puke the suit, why would I puke on this?” He asked as he stepped into the car and sat. Sally slipped into the seat beside him. The attendant dropped the bar across their lap and Tony placed his arm around her shoulder.

“I’m just saying, I’m currently wearing the nicest clothes I brought with me, so if you decide to barf on me, you’re on the hook for casual wear,” Sally taunted.

“I think I can hook you up,” he laughed as the train pulled toward the first peak. Sally smiled back at him and allowed the roller coaster to take them away. She shrieked, and laughed, and clung to Tony when she needed to. It was the most relaxed she’d been around him since they met, which she found ironic considering how nerve wracking the ride was. But less than two minutes later, as they were getting off the ride, she almost felt like she knew him better.

“Your legs aren’t even wobbly?” He asked, incredulous. Sally laughed.

“That was awesome!” She exclaimed. She pulled him against her and pressed an adrenaline fueled kiss against his lips. His arms wrapped around her and he responded, teasing her lips with his tongue, reaching up and dragging his hand through her hair. She pulled away and looked away, cheeks flushing again. “I feel like a teen girl with a crush when I’m around you, Tony. One minute I want to have my hands all over you, the next I wish you wouldn’t ever notice me.”

“Well, I’ve noticed you, Sally, there’s no changing that.” His words were low, and over the crowd, Sally could barely hear them. He traced his fingers down her arm until they were tangled with her own hand again and led her toward the boardwalk and beach. “Clint said something about you surfing?”

“He assumed I surf,” Sally laughed.

“So do you?” Tony pressed.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted. Half the reason she’d bought the house she’d chosen was because of the proximity to the ocean and the great waves.

“You ever stepped into the Atlantic?” He asked, stopping where the wooden boardwalk met the sand. He stepped out of his shoes and let go of her hand to pull off his socks. Sally shook her head.

“I’ve never had time,” she admitted, watching as he rolled up his jeans to mid-calf. He looked at her expectantly.

“What are you waiting for, princess? Lose the shoes, and you’re already set to wade in.” He gestured at her sneakers and cut-offs.

“Is it cold?” She asked as she stepped on the heel of her sneaker to pull her foot out.

“Colder than you’ll be used to, but it’s not cold.”

“Well, that’s a non-answer,” Sally laughed. She picked her shoes up and stepped onto the sand. It was fine, and felt good squishing between her toes. The late afternoon sun had heated it up, and it was like a massage, walking down to the water. The temperature changed where the sand was wet, but Tony was right, the water wasn’t horribly cold, as it lapped up against the tips of her toes. She stepped a little deeper and glanced at Tony who was a step behind. He was holding his phone up and she was pretty sure he was taking a picture of her. She smiled and shook her head.

“What?” He asked.

“Did you just take a picture of me?” She asked.

“I might have,” he admitted and slipped the phone back into his jeans. She took a few more steps until the water was just above her ankles. Tony followed her, stepping close behind her, and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“You’re a lot touchier than I would have guessed,” Sally commented. Tony chuckled into her ear.

“I’ve never been a big fan, actually. This is new,” he admitted. “My soulmark became legible when I was eleven. If my preliminary research is correct, you were a year old. Thirty-four years, Sally. My brain is probably trying to make up for lost time.”

“I’m sorry,” Sally relaxed into his arms, laying her hands on top of his. “Maybe I should have come looking for you.”

“It’s only been seven years that your mark would have made any sense, Sally.” She felt him shrug against her back. “Besides, I probably would have ruined everything.”

“Maybe. You might still ruin everything,” she teased. Tony grew very still behind her.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make us work, Sally.” His breath was warm against her neck. Sally swallowed thickly. She blinked and took a deep breath.

“Anything?” Sally asked. She felt him nod against her shoulder and smirked, hoping he wouldn’t notice. She stepped her foot between his legs and before he could figure out what she was up to, knocked him off balance and threw him over her shoulder into the cold ocean water with a triumphant laugh. He came up sputtering and swearing, and Sally dodged out of his reach until he regained his footing. He charged through the water at her, determination steeling his gaze and Sally shrieked with laughter, dodging just out of reach. She turned sharply back toward the water just as he dove toward her, and he just barely caught her foot as he splashed back into the surf. Sally tried to shake her foot free, but lost her balance and toppled into the shallows, face first. She pushed out of the water, shaking with laughter, and Tony crawled toward her through the gentle lapping waves of the tide coming in. His smile was predatory and Sally scuttled backward like a crab, trying to get away.

“Hey, fair is fair, princess,” Tony growled and reached for her foot again. She laughed and scrambled across the foam and sand.

“No, I’m already in the water, Tony. You’ve already got your revenge!” Sally shrieked and tried to get away, but Tony was just too fast, and pressed her into the shallows. She didn’t wind up under water; she’d made it to where the water was barely covering her ears. Tony crawled up the length of her body, pinning her with his own. When his face was hovering over hers, he dipped down to kiss her again. A sudden wave crashed over them, and they both came up sputtering and laughing.

“You’re very damp, Sally,” Tony pushed himself to his feet, and then pulled Sally to her feet. She laughed and ran her hands through his hair.

“You look like a drowned rat, Tony,” she laughed. “Oh god, your car! We’re going to wreck the interior!” Tony smirked and shook his head.

“I tossed a couple towels in the trunk this morning. It’ll be fine,” he said.

“You anticipated me chucking you in the drink?” She questioned, suspiciously.

“I’d actually hoped I’d be tossing you in first, but I knew we’d wind up wet,” he laughed. “Come on, let’s go.”

They stopped at a souvenir shop, and Tony stepped inside and came out with a t-shirt in a bag. He handed it to her and pointed at a change room. “You look cold.”

Sally took the proffered bag and went to change. She started laughing when she saw the front of the t-shirt, but dropped her wet clothes into the plastic bag and pulled the t-shirt over her head anyhow. She left her soaking panties on, but the t-shirt was long enough it came to mid-thigh. She walked back over to Tony, and she could tell he was trying not to laugh, but by the time she stood in front of him, he was howling with laughter.

“Oh, I make this look good,” Sally taunted, setting her hands on her hips. Instead of the traditional ‘I heart NY’, the t-shirt read ‘I heart IM!’ with a cartoony drawing of the Iron Man helmet in place of the dot on the bottom of the exclamation point.

Tony held her at arms length and took in the t-shirt, her long, tanned legs, and the wet waves of her hair. And he smiled.

“You do, princess. You really do.”

[worrisomeme]

I am sososo stuck on this story but you guys were so amazing, I got so much amazing feedback, and everyone liked it so much, so I’m gonna post another (still veryvery rough) snippet of this wip that I have since (tentatively) titled The Selection

It’s not even two weeks later when Steve’s phone rings. He barely even hears it over the buzzing of everyone’s tattoo machines. His heart drops into his stomach like it has every time an unknown number has popped up on his phone since his birthday. He knows the woman told him a month or two, and that usually they’re just telemarketers or wrong numbers, but he can’t help it.

Angie gives him an eyebrow waggle and a thumbs up as he slips out of the shop to answer.

“Hello?”

“Is this…” there’s a shuffling of paper, “Steven Rogers?” comes the woman’s voice, professional but compassionate.

“Yes, this is.” Steve’s heart races. He suddenly wishes he hadn’t left his inhaler at the desk. “How can I help you?”

“HI Steven, my name’s Amy. I’m calling from the Department of Spousal Selection. I’m just calling to let you know that a match has been selected for you. An email is being sent to you with all the pertinent information on your spouse and the wedding date.”

“Oh, already?” Steve asks, trying to keep his voice even. His hands are shaking. “I was told it usually takes a month or more.”

“Usually, yes, but you were a special case,” Amy replies, excited. Steve can picture her wide smile, practically bouncing in her chair or whatever. Steve’s not sure if ‘special case’ is a good or bad thing. “Did you have any more questions?”

“Uh, no, I guess not,” Steve starts chewing his lip subconsciously.

“Well, if you think of anything feel free to call or email me, but the packet does explain everything very well.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Have a great day Steven, and congratulations.”

“Thanks. You too.”

And then click. She’s gone.

Steve mentally thanks god or whoever that he had the day cleared for working on upcoming pieces. He doesn’t know if his hands will stop shaking all night.

“Is everything okay?” Angie asks him as he makes his way back into the shop. “You’re pale as a damn ghost.” Then she teases, “Well, more than usual,” and giggles.

“They, uh… They found a match already,” he replies, running a hand through his hair.

“Wooohooo!” Angie hollers, grinning as she hops up from her chair and runs around the front desk to pull him into a tight hug. “Who’s the lucky person?!”

“I don’t know yet,” Steve says, laughing nervously as he hugs her back. “The lady said they’re sending over an email with all the info.”

“Well shit, go check it!” Angie pushes him toward the desk and, giggling again, takes off to the back, shouting, “Stevie’s got a match guys!”

He barely hears the chorus of “Already?” and congratulations from the other artists over his heart pounding in his ears. He’s not sure if he feels relieved or disappointed when he finds he hasn’t gotten the email yet.

 *

 Steve’s hands are still shaking later that night when he’s settled at Riley and Sam’s kitchen table, a beer in hand as Riley makes them dinner.

“You should check it again,” Sam prods him, both metaphorically and physically with his foot under the table.

Steve rolls his eyes a little and pulls out his phone, clicking on the email app. “It wasn’t there earlier,” he argues half-heartedly.

“You mean when you checked it, like, ten hours ago at work?” Sam quirks an eyebrow at him.

Steve glares, but there’s no heat behind it. He’s about to say something snarky or witty or something but his mind goes blank as he sees the email from Amy nestled in his inbox, staring back up at him expectantly. He curses under his breath and Sam flashes him a smug grin.

“Well,” Riley urges, turning to glance over his shoulder. When he sees the look on Steve’s face he turns back to the stove with a, “Go on then, open it!”

“You know it’s not gonna have anything good in it,” Steve replies, trying to feign nonchalance. “No pictures, no info, not even an address. Just a name and a phone number.”

“And the rules and the wedding date,” Sam adds.

“See? You do know. You’ve done this, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Riley sasses him as he turns off the stove. “Open it anyway. At least give us the satisfaction of knowing his name.”

Steve glances back and forth between his friends as he takes a deep breath. They were matched up this way, and they’re perfect for each other. Totally happy. It’ll be fine, he reassures himself, totally fine.

Totally.

He takes one last deep breath and clicks open the email just as Riley’s setting a plate down in front of him.

He skims over the email as Riley settles in across the table from him and everyone digs into their food, but he can feel his friend’s eyes burning into his skull.

“Oh would you just tell us already?” Sam teases, tossing a stray piece of sausage at him.

Without even glancing up, Steve picks up the sausage and pops it into his mouth. “His name is James Barnes.”

“Who’s last name is sticking?” Sam asks.

Steve lets out a little sigh. “His,” he says around a mouthful of food. “For ‘professional reasons’.” He does the air quotes and everything.

Sam scrunches up his face. “Well, you’ll always be Steven Grant Rogers to me buddy.”

“Whose place are you moving into?” Riley asks, pushing some food around on his plate before finally taking another bite.

“Mine,” the blond replies, and both of his friends seem relieved. “It’s bigger, and I guess he lives with roommates right now. Says they’re gonna be his witnesses. Natasha and Clint Romanov.”

“We’re yours, right?” Riley asks.

“Of course,” Steve flashes his first genuine smile all night. “I’ve gotta have a key made for him by the time he comes to move his stuff in the night before the wedding.”

“But you’re not to see each other until the wedding,” Sam says, wagging his finger teasingly.

“That’s why they don’t give you the address,” Steve says, nodding thoughtfully as he skims the rest of the guidelines.

“So when’s the big day?” Riley asks, leaning back in his chair a little.

“Uhhh,” he mumbles, starts scrolling faster. “Hold on.” It seems like forever before he gets to the bottom of the PDF. When he does, he chokes on his beer a little and spits it all over his phone. “Next weekend?!” he practically shouts. Panic floods his body all over again as the realization finally, properly sets in.

Shit.

[waynekelton]

Like... Magic: Arena? You'll love these alternative CCGs

Just a few short years ago almost every developer inside and out of mobile gaming was holding the idea of the CCG close, finding every which way to include 'Card Battle' elements into new IPs and sequels that made absolutely no sense. That RTS sequel? Have some cards. The latest iteration of your favorite shooter? Cards.

Developers have taken a step back recently, but the resurgence of Magic: The Gathering with its new MtG: Arena game has reignited the urge to pull packs and build decks. It hasn't made its way to mobile just yet, though, so if you lack a PC capable of running the game or just need your CCG fix on the go, we've rounded up a bunch of popular big-brand CCG games you can play where and whenever the itch needs scratching.

Barring a few odd exceptions, All of the titles below can be played on both PC and mobile, with console being an option with some. Each takes certain cues from the Wizards of the Coast game that started it all, too. So while you'll need to learn the ropes with each of these, if you can play the CCG that stumps Chess-besting artificial intelligence, you can probably pick up and play these without much issue.

Yu-Gi-Oh Duel Links (iOS and Android)

Konami has released a few different Yu-Gi-Oh games on mobile over the years, but Duel Links has proven to be the more resilient of the lot: and it's multi-platform!

Released back in 2017, Yu-Gi-Oh Duel Links condenses the classic card battler into short, snappy duels better suited to on-the-go play while preserving popular strategies seen in top tournament over the years. If you haven't played Yu-Gi-Oh before, it's less about managing resources and more about managing your monsters. Battling requires notably less mental arithmetic despite attack and defense numbers going well into the thousands, yet the core idea remains the same: whittle down your opponent's life with direct attacks to win the game.

Spell and Trap cards help create synergistic strategies, and with thousands of cards to pull from its dozens of packs, there's just as much thought to building a themed deck as you'll find in Magic. It's not quite the core Yu-Gi-Oh experience you'd find at your local card shop, but it keeps enough to not feel dumbed down for mobile play. It's Yu-Gi-Oh, but faster, and fans of the still on-going anime show will find the overhanging story and periodic character releases as a reason to keep coming back.

Shadowverse (iOS and Android)

If you prefer the high-fantasy style of Magic but enjoy a side-helping of anime, Shadowverse is really worth a look.

Created by the good folks over at Cygames - who are responsible for Nintendo's Dragalia Lost and the ever-popular Granblue Fantasy, Shadowverse is like the love child of Hearthstone and Magic, mixing the mana management of Hearthstone with the more complicated battle systems of Magic. The gorgeous anime-inspired high-fantasy art-style adds a unique personality to the game that's sure to appeal to a more specific type of player. And if you've ever played a Cygames title before, prepare to see characters cross over from their other titles for that added easter egg kick.

Like some of the other options here, Shadowverse has a rich lore and a single-player storyline to run through. The English dub doesn't skimp out on the voice actors, either, with Cassandra Lee Morris (Persona 5's sleep-obsessed Morgana) taking the helm. It's available on both mobile and PC, so there's a good chance you'll be able to squeeze in some practice at home without draining your phone battery.

The longevity of ongoing support for Shadowverse comes into question with the recommendation. Mobile titles can close down at a moments notice. But if you're at all interested in the premise, I can personally attest to Shadowverse being well worth your time. Maybe just think twice about dumping too much money into if I you notice a few too many run-ins with the same player. Though the recent announcement of an anime project might mean there's still plenty of life in this one yet.

The Elder Scrolls Legends (iOS and Android)

Another case of a popular franchise jumping on the bandwagon. The Elder Scrolls Legends isn't the most popular CCG on the market, but its reputation is that of a unique and intriguing card game that wasn't just some ham-fisted attempt to cash in on the Elder Scrolls namesake.

If you're one of the thousands of players still enthralled by Skyrim or happen to be balancing life around The Elder Scrolls Online, The Elder Scrolls Legends can keep you immersed in the world of Tamriel while you're out and about. Its various expansion sets all bear an obvious likeness to ESO add-ons, too, so new and old players of the franchise are sure to get something out of its varied content.

You won't be able to hop on over from another CCG and play like a champ from the get-go with this one. There are similarities - like the return of the ever-popular Mana system - but you'll still have to play through the tutorial to understand the rest of the game board and how to position your cards.

Gwent (iOS) (October 29th)

Here's one we weren't expecting to add to the list. Despite more or less every other CCG tie-in making a point to release on mobile, CD Projekt Red's attempts to tackle the genre extended to simply making a standalone version of the card game available in The Witcher 3. That changes toward the end of October when Gwent finally leaves its PC/Console confines to join the Apple ecosystem by landing on the iOS App Store.

Notice the lack of mention of Android? It's true. Gwent is doing the unthinkable by launching exclusively on iOS. The original blog post (from March) does bring up Android as something that's being worked on, but even seven months on, we're still being told and Android release will "be announced at a later date". If you're here before the grand iOS release date, chances are you can still squeeze into the closed beta.

As Paul Tassi explained in a Forbes article a few years back, unlike the other games on this list, an understanding of something like Hearthstone doesn't mean squat in Gwent. They couldn't be more different. It's a numbers game, with rounds as well as turns. There's less card RNG in play and far more strategy. It's about reading the room and outplaying your opponent, and about knowing when to hold back and when to go all-in.

Learning the basics is about as hard as learning its intricacies. It's a complex game. If you like the fake-out meta of Poker, you'll probably get a kick out of Gwent. And if you like The Witcher, you're just looking at an extension of the tabletop game you probably sunk dozens of hours into across The Witcher 3.

Hearthstone (iOS and Android)

Josh had a whole section here, but Hearthstone doesn't need any further introduction. It's the game that launched a thousands CCGs, and it differs from Magic in a few key fundamental ways that you probably already know about. 

Honorable Mention:

Pokemon TCG Online (iPad and Android Tablets)

If, like me, your first venture into the CCG/TCG space was with Pokemon, you might be surprised to hear that you can play a completely digital and 100% official version of the Pokemon TCG at home and on the go. This one predates the card-game boom of recent years, but for one reason or another, the only way it's playable on the go (without a laptop) is with a tablet. They just never updated the game to really work on a small screen.

For the uninitiated, Pokemon TCG Online is quite unique in how it plays. Much like the traditional RPGs, you're encouraged to focus on a small and varied selection of Pokemon. Resource management comes in the form of coloured "Energy" cards used to power each card's multiple moves, with the aim of the game being to knock out enough of your opponent's critters to claim the six "prize" cards taken from your deck at the start of each match. There's quite a bit of RNG not only with luck of the draw, but also countless coin flips to decide how status affects like Paralysis and Sleep help or hinder your team.

Unlike the other entries on this list, the Pokemon Trading Card Game app extends into its physical version. Packs can be bought in-game, but each real-life booster pack and deck comes with a redeemable code to add that same purchase to the video game.

It's a great tool for existing TCG players to practice their strategies online, but those without a nurtured interest in the physical game have plenty to gain here, too. Its visuals are overly childish and barely represent the franchise's other entries, and there isn't much single-player content to sink your teeth into. But if you're looking to play the Pokemon TCG against other players without waltzing into your local hobby shop, it's a good go-between.

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

In an earlier version of this article, Nick put forward his own list of credible Magic: The Gathering alternatives. Since the mobile CCG market has moved on a bit since then and Magic’s potential on mobile has shifted, we thought we’d re-do this article with a fresh perspective.

It’s not possible to keep all text, but if you’re interested in the games he recommened that were like Magic: The Gathering, here they are:

Card City Nights

Dream Quest

Lost Portal CCG

Five Card Quest

Treasure Hunter

Do you have any games you'd recommend to scratch that Magic itch? Let us know in the comments!

Like... Magic: Arena? You'll love these alternative CCGs published first on https://touchgen.tumblr.com/

[pete31gordon]

Why I Get Off Social Media on the Weekends

Every Friday at 5 p.m. I get off social media. I delete my apps from my phone and try my hardest to resist logging in on my laptop for the rest of the night and all day Saturday and Sunday. Then on Monday morning, around 8, I get back on. I reload the apps on my phone and scroll and stalk at will.

I am not perfect at it and there are definitely weekends—especially when the book was coming out—that I remain online, but for the most part, I am social media free on the weekends and have been for about a year now.

I can’t remember the exact catalyst for deciding to do this, but I think it started with an interview I read with The Lumineers. In it, front man Wesley Schultz said the band has started to ask its audiences to put their phones away during shows.

“I’m tired of all the Facebook and now Instagram posts,” Shultz said, “these dopamine hits of how great our lives are. It’s like you start running a PR campaign for your life, you start having a distance from it…We’ve been making a deal with the audience, saying, ‘We’re all here now, and this is getting in the way. It’s distracting me – and probably a lot of you. So let’s take a few moments and really be together and really enjoy this.’”

That fact that social media is a false, curated, happy-memories-only collection of your life is not news to any of us. We’ve been sending up the warning flare about this for years. But I gave this quote a double take because I used to work in PR. I ran PR campaigns for authors’ books. So his comparison highlighted this dark side of social media for me in a new way.

I do not want my life to become a PR campaign. I know how much work that takes, but social media is indeed the place where I can control my image. It’s impossible to be on social media and not curate your life through it.

Even the “real” or “vulnerable” posts are curated. I still think about what I will say and how. How others will receive it. What it will look like to those who follow me.

Posting about your experience on social media is not, and never will be, the same as simply having an experience.

As Shultz said, this all creates a distance between us and our lives. This isn’t good for anybody, especially a writer.

A writer’s job is to observe the world around her and communicate the truth that she sees. How can I do this when my face is more often than not in my phone, and I’m spending more time curating an experience than having one? What experience can I write about? And if social media puts my career at risk, is it really worth it?

All of this got me wondering about the time I spend on social media and what it’s really doing to me. What is it adding? What is it taking away? If social media is creating a barrier between me and my real life, how can I justify its presence?

These are all questions I’m still wrestling with. The end of the road could be a social media fast for an extended period of time or getting off altogether one day. I don’t know, but for now, being social media free on the weekends is a good baby step.

Other than not wanting to be the publicist for my own life, here are three reasons why I keep signing off on Fridays:

FOMO

My FOMO (fear of missing out) is at its worst on the weekends. If I don’t have anything fun to do on a Friday night and I see on Instagram that seemingly everyone else has something fun to do, I immediately feel less than. I feel ashamed that I’m binging Friday Night Lights and drinking red wine by myself.

However, if I am on my couch on a Friday night binging Friday Night Lights and drinking red wine by myself and I can’t see what everybody else is doing because I’m not on social media…boom, no FOMO.

Ignorance is not only bliss but also the solution to FOMO.

Rest

Sometimes during the week I take a “break” from work by scrolling through my social media feeds for a while. However, when I turn back to my work I never feel rested or refreshed. That’s because, I have learned, scrolling social media is not restful.

I’m sure there are studies to prove this but I don’t even need them because I’ve experienced it myself. Social media makes me feel more anxious than rested. I think this is because it so consistently makes feel like I’m not enough:

I’m not doing enough work. I’m not posting enough styled images of my book on Instagram. I’m not doing enough exercise. I’m not making enough paleo recipes. I’m not taking enough trips.

Being off of this hamster wheel of “not enough” for 48 hours makes me forget about everything I am not doing and every way that I am not enough of a woman, worker, writer, Christian—and it allows me to just be. And that, my friends, is true rest.

Sitting still, reading, journaling, walking outside. These activities never make me feel more anxious, and they never make me feel like I’m falling short.

I’ve realized that I cannot truly rest in front of a screen observing others’ lives. I must look away and experience the five senses in my real physical world.

See: read a book, watch a bird hop around on a branch Touch: make a craft, fold laundry, bake cookies Taste: eat a meal without checking my phone, eat one of those cookies I baked Hear: listen to music while staring out the window or at the ceiling (not at my phone) Smell: hang out by the oven where my cookies are baking, light a candle

These are the things that put me back in touch with reality and, therefore, bring true rest to my life.

Attention Span

I mentioned how social media can affect the writer because we can’t observe life if we’re not actually living it, but there’s another reason social media has been detrimental to my career: It is messing with my attention span on a dire level. It’s probably messing with yours too.

Next time you’re reading a book, do a little test. How many pages do you read before you reach for your phone? The results will probably alarm you. I sometimes don’t make it a full page before feeling the urge to pick up my phone and see how many likes I’ve gotten on a photo I posted 45 seconds ago.

I noticed this with my writing, too. I would write two sentences and then before I knew it I was opening an app on my phone to do who knows what. It’s like my brain can’t do sustained work anymore, and this is not good for my writing. Not good at all.

I’ve done my best work when I’ve let myself get lost in a deep hole of words, returning to the surface for air unsure of how long I’ve been under. My best work is certainly not done when I’m typing two words here, checking Insta, one paragraph there, checking Facebook.

Ernest Hemingway didn’t write like this. We shouldn’t either.

So, how many times did you check your phone while reading this post? I won’t be offended. I’d rather not tell you how many times I checked mine while writing it.

I’ve gotten to the point where I actually look forward to Fridays at 5 p.m. It’s like I’m giving myself a little vacation from the hustle and scramble and the comparison. I feel like I’m doing something good for my brain and something good for my soul. I feel like I actually have a weekend of rest. And yes, it feels a little odd when everyone else in the room is checking their phones and laughing at things and I’m just standing there, but I think there was a time when groups of people in rooms all functioned perfectly well, phoneless and looking at each other.

Maybe we’ll get there again one day.

The post Why I Get Off Social Media on the Weekends appeared first on Andrea Lucado.

from Andrea Lucado http://andrealucado.com/2017/07/10/get-off-social-media-weekends/

[marianic36rich]

Why I Get Off Social Media on the Weekends

Every Friday at 5 p.m. I get off social media. I delete my apps from my phone and try my hardest to resist logging in on my laptop for the rest of the night and all day Saturday and Sunday. Then on Monday morning, around 8, I get back on. I reload the apps on my phone and scroll and stalk at will.

I am not perfect at it and there are definitely weekends—especially when the book was coming out—that I remain online, but for the most part, I am social media free on the weekends and have been for about a year now.

I can’t remember the exact catalyst for deciding to do this, but I think it started with an interview I read with The Lumineers. In it, front man Wesley Schultz said the band has started to ask its audiences to put their phones away during shows.

“I’m tired of all the Facebook and now Instagram posts,” Shultz said, “these dopamine hits of how great our lives are. It’s like you start running a PR campaign for your life, you start having a distance from it…We’ve been making a deal with the audience, saying, ‘We’re all here now, and this is getting in the way. It’s distracting me – and probably a lot of you. So let’s take a few moments and really be together and really enjoy this.’”

That fact that social media is a false, curated, happy-memories-only collection of your life is not news to any of us. We’ve been sending up the warning flare about this for years. But I gave this quote a double take because I used to work in PR. I ran PR campaigns for authors’ books. So his comparison highlighted this dark side of social media for me in a new way.

I do not want my life to become a PR campaign. I know how much work that takes, but social media is indeed the place where I can control my image. It’s impossible to be on social media and not curate your life through it.

Even the “real” or “vulnerable” posts are curated. I still think about what I will say and how. How others will receive it. What it will look like to those who follow me.

Posting about your experience on social media is not, and never will be, the same as simply having an experience.

As Shultz said, this all creates a distance between us and our lives. This isn’t good for anybody, especially a writer.

A writer’s job is to observe the world around her and communicate the truth that she sees. How can I do this when my face is more often than not in my phone, and I’m spending more time curating an experience than having one? What experience can I write about? And if social media puts my career at risk, is it really worth it?

All of this got me wondering about the time I spend on social media and what it’s really doing to me. What is it adding? What is it taking away? If social media is creating a barrier between me and my real life, how can I justify its presence?

These are all questions I’m still wrestling with. The end of the road could be a social media fast for an extended period of time or getting off altogether one day. I don’t know, but for now, being social media free on the weekends is a good baby step.

Other than not wanting to be the publicist for my own life, here are three reasons why I keep signing off on Fridays:

FOMO

My FOMO (fear of missing out) is at its worst on the weekends. If I don’t have anything fun to do on a Friday night and I see on Instagram that seemingly everyone else has something fun to do, I immediately feel less than. I feel ashamed that I’m binging Friday Night Lights and drinking red wine by myself.

However, if I am on my couch on a Friday night binging Friday Night Lights and drinking red wine by myself and I can’t see what everybody else is doing because I’m not on social media…boom, no FOMO.

Ignorance is not only bliss but also the solution to FOMO.

Rest

Sometimes during the week I take a “break” from work by scrolling through my social media feeds for a while. However, when I turn back to my work I never feel rested or refreshed. That’s because, I have learned, scrolling social media is not restful.

I’m sure there are studies to prove this but I don’t even need them because I’ve experienced it myself. Social media makes me feel more anxious than rested. I think this is because it so consistently makes feel like I’m not enough:

I’m not doing enough work. I’m not posting enough styled images of my book on Instagram. I’m not doing enough exercise. I’m not making enough paleo recipes. I’m not taking enough trips.

Being off of this hamster wheel of “not enough” for 48 hours makes me forget about everything I am not doing and every way that I am not enough of a woman, worker, writer, Christian—and it allows me to just be. And that, my friends, is true rest.

Sitting still, reading, journaling, walking outside. These activities never make me feel more anxious, and they never make me feel like I’m falling short.

I’ve realized that I cannot truly rest in front of a screen observing others’ lives. I must look away and experience the five senses in my real physical world.

See: read a book, watch a bird hop around on a branch Touch: make a craft, fold laundry, bake cookies Taste: eat a meal without checking my phone, eat one of those cookies I baked Hear: listen to music while staring out the window or at the ceiling (not at my phone) Smell: hang out by the oven where my cookies are baking, light a candle

These are the things that put me back in touch with reality and, therefore, bring true rest to my life.

Attention Span

I mentioned how social media can affect the writer because we can’t observe life if we’re not actually living it, but there’s another reason social media has been detrimental to my career: It is messing with my attention span on a dire level. It’s probably messing with yours too.

Next time you’re reading a book, do a little test. How many pages do you read before you reach for your phone? The results will probably alarm you. I sometimes don’t make it a full page before feeling the urge to pick up my phone and see how many likes I’ve gotten on a photo I posted 45 seconds ago.

I noticed this with my writing, too. I would write two sentences and then before I knew it I was opening an app on my phone to do who knows what. It’s like my brain can’t do sustained work anymore, and this is not good for my writing. Not good at all.

I’ve done my best work when I’ve let myself get lost in a deep hole of words, returning to the surface for air unsure of how long I’ve been under. My best work is certainly not done when I’m typing two words here, checking Insta, one paragraph there, checking Facebook.

Ernest Hemingway didn’t write like this. We shouldn’t either.

So, how many times did you check your phone while reading this post? I won’t be offended. I’d rather not tell you how many times I checked mine while writing it.

I’ve gotten to the point where I actually look forward to Fridays at 5 p.m. It’s like I’m giving myself a little vacation from the hustle and scramble and the comparison. I feel like I’m doing something good for my brain and something good for my soul. I feel like I actually have a weekend of rest. And yes, it feels a little odd when everyone else in the room is checking their phones and laughing at things and I’m just standing there, but I think there was a time when groups of people in rooms all functioned perfectly well, phoneless and looking at each other.

Maybe we’ll get there again one day.

The post Why I Get Off Social Media on the Weekends appeared first on Andrea Lucado.

from Andrea Lucado http://andrealucado.com/2017/07/10/get-off-social-media-weekends/