#1 is lean & quick & the other is big & concise

[bibleofficial]

classic bodybuilders fuming over the brazilian men’s wellness division is hysterical like 😭😭😭 it’s the same thing ??? w different end points ?????

[sturniolo-rat]

A Very Matt Morning 2

Matthew Sturniolo X Reader

Part 1

A/N: listen, part one has exactly 15 notes rn and that’s more than I expected so I will treat you to part 2. This is the sexy part get ready, bby. Also don’t @ me because you don’t think all this can go down in 36 minutes. This piece is auto biographical if you’re a pro lots can happen in 36 minutes. This 100% isn’t proofread.

Contains: big time smut, silly goofy!matt, oral, fingering, p in v sex, lots of dialogue

TW: mentions of working an office job🤢

In which Matt wakes up y/n the right way to prep her for her big day of working at her big girl job.

Five minutes later the order confirmed and set to arrive in 36 minutes. “Just enough time to wake you up the right way” Matt whispers in y/n’s ear.

Y/n releases a frustrated groan “But I should really dressed and I have to respond to this email real quick”. She knows that even waiting for the coffee she’s cutting it close to being late.

“Hush, baby” he touches his finger to her lips. She’s being entirely too reasonable right now but Matt knows what she needs. She has the whole rest of her work day to be responsible and boring. He runs his hand up her thigh and under the extra large t-shirt she uses as pajamas. It’s not his though because he’s actually quite small with a slutty little waist. She stole from an ex boyfriend of hers. Matt doesn’t mind though because one day he’s going to marry her and everyone else will fall away. “I’m just going down here. Don’t worry about what I’m doin. Just take out your phone and answer that little email, okay?”

“Okay” she exhales softly and takes her phone from the bedside table. Rachel from accounting should really learn how to do her fucking job. She’s distracted as he shoves his hand between her legs, covering her heated center with his palm, squeezing gently. He always does this before sex It’s almost like gentle greeting or a quiet hello. Arching her back, she plasters myself into his hand, searching for more contact. "Mmm. I like that."

He strokes her slit through her panties, drawing an oval around it with his finger without actually touching it. Maybe it was because his touch was unhurried, fleeting, and designed to drive her wild, but her panties dampened. Y/n was going through the sweetest of tortures.

“No no, Sweetie. Just write your little email.”

She hits him in the head “How can you expect me to write a clear concise professional email under these conditions.”

He lets out a chuckle “Hey don’t sway me on the head. I’m trying to give you head down here.” He trails kisses up her inner thigh all the way up until he’s nearly where he needs to be. “I can’t give you head if my head hurts. Did you know that?” He does the same to her other thigh “You’re the reason I have to carry around ibuprofen for when I’m ready to be a munch.”

She laughs and her legs shut closed. They weren’t fully open to begin with. She’s still holding onto the idea that she’ll get up and get ready when she finishes her email. “Oh shut up. You love me.”

“Come on, spread your legs.” He coos in a sing song voice. “What… is she shy this morning.” He peppers y/n’s stomach with kisses. “Did you wake up with stage fright… is your pussy anxious?” He teases and she hits him again. “Hey hey cut that out”

He leans in close to her pussy and whispers “Hey, Darlin, I know right she’s sitting there trying to close you off from me. You and I have such a special bond and…”

Y/n raises her voice “Are you talking to my coochie!?”

He looks up at her “Yes, yes I am talking to your coochie. What do you want… this is an A B conversation… C your way out of it and finish your email.” She does as she’s told but he lowers his head and picks up where he left off. “She’s so fucking rude. Like I’m trying to have a conversation… women am I right.” At this point y/n has let her guard down completely and opens her legs for him to have his silly little conversation.

Finally after all his hard work Matt is able to kiss her pussy. He starts off light and gradually gets rougher until his tongue is swirling around her clit. She likes to watch his mouth move. His jawline looks so sharp against the softness of her thighs. He reaches a hand up to massage her breast while the other snakes around her thigh to rest on her tummy. He loves the taste of her and the tenderness of her skin. Y/n’s hands find their way to his head and her fingers tangle into his hair. She’s grinding her pussy onto his lips. To him if feels more like she’s grinding his face into her pussy but that’s neither here nor there.

She’s moaning uncharacteristically loud and he knows it’s time to start licking and teasing her entrance. Y/n knows he’s about to finger her and as if on cue she opens her mouth right as he moves his hand from her breast and puts his middle and index finger in her mouth. He lists his head to say “You’re gonna get these fingers nice and wet for me, Okay.” She nods her head still sucking on his fingers. He lets her suck longer than usual thinking about how her lips would feel around his hard cock. When Matt can focus again he pulls his fingers back and slowly pushes his middle finger into her hole. He groans out of sheer horniness “Oh, come on, you’re sooo tight right now… is she still shy. Fine, hold on, I’ll to talk to her again.” He works his finger in and out of never pushing it in past the knuckle. “ Hey, Lovie, I know it’s really early and obviously you’re having a bit of performance anxiety but you and I know each other. We get along, right? Don’t close me out. Don’t be shy with me.” His finger pushes in just a little bit farther with every thrust until she can take his whole finger. “There we go, baby.” He looks up to y/n “You see, Honey, her and I have reached an understanding.”

Fingering her like this without touching her clit is torturous. She can’t orgasm without clitoral stimulation but it feels good it’s basically like perpetual edging. And he’s making it worse by moaning along with her as if he’s getting off on her pleasure. “Oh yes, oh you are so fucking tight. I am going to lose my mind the moment my tip goes in. Don’t get mad at me if I come right away, okay? I’ll just keep going. You know how much I like to fuck the cum into you.”

“Oh my god!” Y/n says in complete and utter shock as she wacks his head. “That’s too horny for this early in the morning!” She hits him again “Also suck my clit you dickhead!”

“Ouch! Im sorry. Im just havin a little fun! And I’ll get to your clit in a minute” Matt says then goes to do what he was told. He sucks entirely too softly but very passionately. “ Can you take two fingers for me, baby?” She shakes her head. She’s never been one to talk during sex but fuck. Matt does it so well. Matt’s second finger slips in so easily “Oh good girl. That’s more like it one of that being shy bullshit.” His fingers moved faster within her and she moaned as they curled at just the right angle to make her writhe on the bed, panting and moaning. Then he finally does it. He absolutely devours y/n’s clit with his sucking, licking, and moaning. She could feel herself approaching the edge and so could he. “You’re already there, Baby. Come on, cum for me.”

She shoves his face back into her pussy “Shut up and keep sucking!” All this talk is so hot but it sure as shit does feel better than cuming. Her thighs quaked, bracketing his ears. Her fingers in his hair, tugging viciously. Matt went harder, rougher, latching on to one of her tits through her top and pinching her nipple. Her eyes popped open and looked at him behind a curtain of innocent lust. The climax seized every muscle in her body head to toe. An odd sensation-of floating in warm water-conquered her. She rocked back and forth against his face, unraveling inch by delicious inch.

“Do you feel awake now, Darlin?” He says with a grin.

Y/n sighs with a laugh “Yes, Matty baby, I am very much awake.”

“Can you keep going? Or is that too much for you?”

“Oh course I can. After my super awesome morning orgasm I can do almost anything.” She jokes but she also genuinely feels that way. Maybe her day won’t be so bad.

Matt moves so that he’s above her using his hands to hold himself up. She squeaks, hips bucking slightly, and feels his hardness press up against her inner thigh. He reaches his hand down to rub his cock against her sensitive folds, and she releases a gasp at the sensation.

“I knew from how fucking wet you felt.” He groans as he pushes himself in farther. “You would milk my fucking dick but Jesus Christ” She gasps slightly, her cheeks reddening at the feeling of arousal welling up within her at his words. He bottoms out with moan from deep in his chest. She feels so full and whole. Slowly he starts to fuck her. Each thrust eliciting a whiny bordering on pathetic moan from him. He really isn’t going to last long.

Her legs wrap around him and pull him close. “Fuck that’s not fair you can’t pull me into you like that.” It’s so tight and warm inside her cunt it feels like a second home. His thrusts get sloppier and more needy as he approaches his climax. “Look at me. Look me in my fucking eyes while I fill you up.” She looks at him with pleading eyes. She really wants to watch him cum and watch his face twist in pleasure and pain as he continues to fuck her with his overstimulated cock.

He comes with a powerful grunt but he keeps up his pace and doesn’t stop bucking into her until hurts more than it feels good. He collapses on top of y/n and she kisses him on the forehead. “Do YOU feel awake now, Darlin?”

“Could take on the world, my love.”

They sit there cuddling for a while until she gets an email from work. There’s more bullshit to respond to and a world or responsibilities to get back to. Matt however is asleep. It seems he did not in fact feel awake. Y/n leaves him to his sleep and prepares for work. When she finally opens the door to leave there are two Dunkin’ coffee cups sitting on the welcome mat outside.

Masterlist

Taglist

pls give me feedback. Like should I do the thing where they make the dialogue different colors? Or maybe should I write in a different pov? Any other suggestions?

[five-rivers]

Ectober 1: Fog

AKA Familiar Part 3.

Find this and the first two entries to this series here.

.

Beyond the tiny off-color spot in the center of his right eye, the whole ‘kidnapped and forced to be part of a weird magic ritual’ thing hadn’t altered Danny’s appearance.  Good.  That was something he always worried about.  He let out a long, soft sigh that fogged the mirror in front of him before leaning back.  

The police and Danny and Sam’s respective parents had believed the ‘overshadowed and kidnapped’ explanation as well, thank goodness, so they hadn’t gotten in trouble.  Which… maybe shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was, considering that it had been true, if edited for length and certain damning content (e.g. all the parts with Danny being a ghost and the aforementioned magic ritual).  Tucker’s eyewitness account had helped.  

Vivian hadn’t made a repeat appearance so far, which was also good.  At least, Sam hadn’t called him about her.  Danny rubbed his right eye.  Something told him she wouldn’t have to call him to know she was in trouble.  

Good.  

Overall, the time since Danny had flown them back through the portal had been pleasant, or nearly so.  He felt happy and oddly secure.  Was it just knowing that Sam was alright?  She was a major target of his ghostly Obsession.  Maybe they could get Tucker in on this as well?  They’d taken the book with them, and Danny wouldn’t mind getting stabbed again.  

His core vibrated happily in his chest, making his heart and bones shiver.  

Yes, that would be nice…

There was a sharp rap on the door.  “Danny?” called his mom.  “Are you sure you’re alright?  You’ve been in there a while, and something like being kidnapped by a ghost…” She trailed off, a touch of anxiety in her voice.  “That can be traumatic.”

Oh, no.  He’d made Mom worry.  Happy feeling gone.  

“I’m fine,” he said, turning on the faucet to make it seem like he’d just started washing up.  “Really!”  He shut the water off and dried his hands quickly before opening the door.  “Just, you, know, a bit tired, that’s all.”  He smiled, broad and genuine.  

Maddie smiled back, although her brow was pinched. She had pushed her hood back, and her hair was frizzy with static.  “You were missing for almost a whole day, Danny.  You’ll have to forgive me for worrying.”

“I know.  I’m sorry, Mom.”

She sighed and ruffled Danny’s hair.  “At least, next time you think a friend is being possessed, if there ever is a next time, come to me and your father. Okay?  Making sure ghosts don’t hurt people is our job.  So is keeping you safe.”

The irony.  If only Danny got paid, he could say the same thing.  Alas, it was not to be.  

He nodded and smiled.  No promises.  “I think I’m going to go up to bed, now, if that’s okay?”

“Alright,” said Maddie.  “Do you still want to go to school tomorrow?  Everyone would understand if you didn’t.”

“Yeah.  I just- It wasn’t that big of a deal.  I want things to go back to normal.”

.

“Wow,” said Tucker, pointing at Danny.  “That is not normal.”

“What’s not normal?” asked Danny, looking down at himself.  Had he spilled something on his shirt without noticing?  It had happened before.  But, no. Everything looked just like it had when he put it on this morning.  

“You’re wearing black,” said Tucker.

Danny looked up and raised an eyebrow.  “Yeah.  So?”

“All black.”

“Okay, captain obvious.”  He turned to his locker and started putting in his combination. The hallway was just a little bit too crowded for him to feel comfortable phasing through the door to fish for his books.  

“You never wear all black.”

“That’s not true.  We all wore black at that Saints’ Fire concert just a couple of months ago.”

“Yeah, but that was for a concert.  Danny, you’re even wearing the boots Sam got you!”

“I know what I’m wearing, Tucker.  It’s just clothes.  Do we need our textbook for English today?  Or can I just bring Mockingbird?  I can’t remember the schedule.”

“Just Mockingbird.  Did something happen while you and Sam were in the Zone?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, honestly.  “A couple of things.  Got complicated.  That ghost is apparently Sam’s ancestor.  And also a witch.  Witches and magic are a thing, I guess.”

“You sure?  Could just be ghost powers,” said Tucker, momentarily distracted.  

“Pretty sure it’s magic,” said Danny.  

“Danny!  Tuck!”

The two boys turned to face Sam, who jogged up to them and then doubled over, hands on her knees.  

“Are you okay?” asked Danny, worried.  

“I wasn’t able to sleep,” said Sam.  “Too much energy.  You?”

“I slept normally.  Had to fight the Box Ghost at three, but,” he shrugged, “that’s normal.”

Sam straightened.  “We need to—” She stopped, blinking.  “You’re wearing black.”

“Yeah.”  Danny shrugged.

“Why?”

“You said I should?”

Tucker made a sound like a dying pterodactyl.  “Something happened!” he said, excitedly.  “They’re embracing their feelings.  I’m so honored to witness.”  Tucker proceeded to squeal.  

“Dude,” said Danny, “what is wrong with you?”  Then he glanced at Sam.

Sam looked like she had swallowed a lemon.  

Danny deflated.  “Are you okay?” he asked, leaning forward, concerned.  “I mean, other than not having slept.”

“We really need to talk.”

“Aw, come on, Sam, you can’t end your romance before it even begins,” said Tucker in a singsong voice.

The warning bell went off.  

“Lunch, I guess?” asked Danny.  

“Sure.”

.

They sat down in their usual spot behind the school, where no other students went because it was both out of the way and lacked anything resembling a comfortable place to sit.  Sam, Tucker, and Danny, however, had adapted.  

“So,” said Tucker, rubbing his hands together with glee.  “You have to tell me the details.  All the details.  What happened?  Are you guys dating now?  How did you get de-liquified?  That really freaked me out, by the way.”

Sam put her hands over her face and groaned. “No, we’re not dating.  Ugh.  How do I even explain what’s going on?”

Danny jumped in.  “Sam’s witch ancestor did something weird to my powers and wouldn’t let us go until we did a ritual that, uh, sort of bound me to Sam as a familiar spirit.  Also, she wants Sam to be her apprentice.  So, we have that to look forward to.”  He fished his sandwich out of his bag.  

“Wow,” said Tucker.  “I have no idea how to respond to that.”

“That was a lot more concise than I expected,” said Sam.  

“It hits all the important points, though. Except for the de-liquification.  If I’m being honest, I’m not entirely sure how that happened.”

“Right,” said Sam.  “Anyway, we have to figure out how to undo it.”

Danny choked on his sandwich.  “What?  Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why?’” demanded Sam, clearly aggrieved.  

Danny furrowed his brow.  “I know we didn’t do it under the—”

“Word of advice, man, whatever you did do, don’t phrase it as ‘do it.’  Unless this ritual thing involved—"

“Tucker?” said Sam, blushing furiously.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Got it.  Sorry.  I blame hormones.”

Danny had no idea what Tucker was talking about but decided not to ask.  Instead, he let out a quick puff of air.  “I know we didn’t want or ask for this, but it does seem to come with some benefits. Did you try out any of the spells in the books we took with us last night?”

“No, because the last one made me stick a needle in your eye!”

There was a fundamental misunderstanding happening here.  A disconnect. Danny tilted his head.  In moments like these, Spectra’s voice seemed to echo in his head.  He ignored it.

“I didn’t mind,” said Danny.  “I’ve been hurt worse.  Besides, they don’t all need you to stick a needle in my eye.  I read them, too, you know.”

“Do you not care about how you can’t lie to me?”

“No?  You already know all my big secrets, anyway.”  Danny didn’t know why Sam was so upset about this, but it was starting to make him anxious. His fingers had made deep impressions in his sandwich.  

“Wait,” said Tucker, “it does what?”

“Yeah!” said Sam, running an agitated hand through her hair.  “That’s not all, either.  Apparently, he has to follow all my commands, too, like I’m some kind of discount Freakshow!”

“This isn’t like Freakshow!” protested Danny.  “I didn’t have any choice about that!”

“You didn’t have any choice about this either,” said Sam, making a sweeping motion with her hands so violently that she rocked back on her heels.  “We were basically hostages.  You can’t tell me that you’re actually okay with this.”

“I am okay with it,” said Danny, taken aback by Sam’s vehemence.  “I like knowing that you’re safe, and, if you have powers, too, you can, you know, be safer. Also, it would be cool if there was someone else who had them, I guess.”  His sandwich was well and truly squished at this point.  “I was actually…  Earlier, I was thinking that it might be a good thing to see if Tucker can get in on this, too.”

“You’re joking,” said Sam, flatly.

“Dude, I think we’ve all seen that I do not handle power well.”

“No,” said Danny, shaking his head.  “I like this.  And I trust you.  Both of you.” His face twisted up.  “Maybe back when we started out, and you were talking about freeing zoo animals and wrecking Hummer dealerships I might have been a little apprehensive, but, even back then, I know you wouldn’t have made me do anything I didn’t want to do.  You guys let me overshadow you to practice.  This isn’t really any different.  Right?”

“Don’t look at me, man,” said Tucker, raising his hands.  “You two are the ones on the inside.”

Sam stared at Danny for a moment longer before pinching the bridge of her nose.  “We need to undo this,” she said, firmly.  

The edges of Danny’s eyes started to hurt, and he blinked them rapidly.  “Okay,” he said.  “If you want to.”  It did affect Sam, too, after all.  If she didn’t feel like she had consented, then undoing it really should have been a no-brainer.  

Danny really didn’t want to undo it.  He liked this.  He liked the way it made him feel.

“After school,” said Sam.  

“Okay,” whispered Danny, looking down at his destroyed sandwich.  “I guess I should get rid of this, huh?”

And then he ran.  

.

It would be wrong to say that Sam didn’t feel guilty.  She did. She felt hugely, incredibly guilty. Like she’d kicked a puppy.  

Thing was, she didn’t exactly have a choice.  Danny obviously wasn’t thinking clearly.  The ritual must have done something to his head beyond screwing with his free will.  

How could anyone be happy when they were forced into obedience?  

If they let this go on, Danny would eventually resent her more than she resented her parents.  After all, her parents didn’t have mind-control abilities.  

“Hey,” said Tucker, breaking the silence that had lain over them since they started the walk to Sam’s house.  “Not to be a downer, but what do we do if that ghost—”

“Vivian,” supplied Sam.  

“Vivian, right.  What do we do if she comes back and she wants you to do magic stuff?  Or she gets mad that you cut your connection? We didn’t do a super great job of fighting her last time.”

Danny shrugged, exhaustion evident in the curve of his spine.  “We do what we always do.  It won’t be the first time it takes us two tries to fight someone.”

“Strategies?” prompted Tucker.  

“I don’t know.  Maybe we can find some kind of weakness in those books… Though, she probably wouldn’t have let us take them if we could get her weakness from them. If all else fails, I guess we could chuck a bucket of water at her.”

“I hate to say it, but I doubt the Wizard of Oz is a good source for how to deal with witches,” said Tucker.  

“Well, considering all the other ways of ‘dealing with witches’ are literal torture, that’s all I’ve got.”  Danny’s words were clipped.  

Yeah.  He was mad.

“We could try some charms and stuff,” suggested Sam.

“Before or after we cut our bond?” asked Danny, no inflection in his tone.  “Because that might make the difference.”

“Danny, I’m just not comfortable having you as my slave.  Which is what this comes down to.”

“I know,” said Danny.  He still didn’t sound happy.  

They reached Sam’s house, and they all crowded into Sam’s room for the most intense study session ever.  Not counting Tucker’s post-Ember deprogramming.  

Sam started with the original book, the one the ritual had come from in the first place.  Reading it again made her so mad.  Mad enough that, at first, she didn’t notice her rapidly increasing heartrate. Not until she was pressing her hand against her chest and struggling for breath.  

“What,” she gasped, “was that?”

Danny shook his head, eyes wide and worried even as he kept his fingers wrapped securely around Sam’s wrist.  “I don’t know.  Whatever happened, though, your pulse is going back down.  What were you looking at?”

“Just the ritual from before…  I wanted to see if there were loopholes we could use,” said Sam, trying to get her breathing back under control.  

Tucker plucked the book from where it had fallen near Sam’s knee and scanned the page.  He winced.  “Hey, it says here that your side of the deal is giving Danny your heart.”

“Yeah?” said Sam.  

“Your heart, which just went crazy when you started trying to figure out a way to back out of the deal?”

Sam felt Danny’s hand contract around her wrist. “Oh,” he said.  “But I didn’t want that to happen.”  He sounded lost, hurt, and more than a little offended.

“I know, man,” said Tucker, soothingly, “but you don’t want the contract to be broken, either, right?”

“No,” admitted Danny.  “I’m sorry, I like it.”

“Yeah.  So,” said Tucker, “I guess it isn’t as one-sided as you thought, Sam.”  He made a face.  “What was your ‘promise,’ anyway?”

“To be friends,” said Danny.  “We thought that would cause the least amount of issues, in case there were penalties.”  He shrugged.

“Yeah, okay,” said Tucker.  “That makes sense.”

It did.  

This was bad.  

This was the worst-case scenario.  Sam bit down on her lip.  Danny was- It was like he was in a fog, as far as this thing went.  That’s the only way she could describe it.  There was no way he was seeing the situation clearly.  It didn’t matter if it was because of the familiar contract or Danny’s ghostly nature.

If Tucker was right and Sam had a heart attack every time she tried to do something about it…

Yeah.  That wasn’t good.  

“Maybe we should look at something else for today,” suggested Danny, far too cheerfully.  “Like, we should see if you can do some of these spells and how it affects us.  It seems like I’ve been feeding you energy somehow, right?”  He began paging through one of the books.  “That’s probably why you were awake all last night.  That’s going to be useful, I bet, and oh!  This one sounds cool.  We could make fog everywhere.  Just think about it, Sam.  We could be so spooky at night!”  He brought out the puppy dog eyes.  

“Ugh,” said Sam.  “Fine.”  She stabbed a finger at Tucker.  “You keep searching for a way out.”

The corners of Danny’s lips twitched downward at that, but sprang back up when Sam turned her attention to the spell he had picked out. Weakly, Sam smiled back.  

This was going to be hard.  

[internalsealpanic]

Radio Silence

Summary: You take Tim with you to a family reunion hoping to monopolize his time. You may have forgotten to tell him a few things. For example, the haunted radio.

masterlist

a/n: I’m sorry for the wait. I forgot that I am no longer used to describing atmosphere. This isn’t my best work but I hope you like it. This was based on my family’s tradition of sitting in the dark on Halloween listening to scary stories on the radio. This is mainly Tim Drake x Filipino!Reader because I realley wanted to try my hand at a bilingual character. You will see misspelling of words in the dialogue. That’s intentional on my part. There will be translations.

“Yes, Nay, he’s the one in the picture,”

“No! It’s the guy with-” You blow out an exasperated breath. You hear Tim snicker behind you and you dedicate half your brain cells to coming up with the best way to kick his ass.  “Yung mukhang Koreano. Yeah. Yeah. Dat one.”

“Yes, he looks more like a white boy. Mistiso.” You explain curtly.

“Yes, he’s smart. I hab standards,” Tim raises a disbelieving brow at you. You stick your tongue out at him but nearly bite it off when your grandmother speaks again.

“What do you mean doubtful?!” Tim looks absolutely delighted. A cheshire smile curling on his lips as he leans back into your couch. You glare at him then at your phone then at the ceiling then past that to glare at whatever god was up there.

“THAT WAS ONE TIME! Justine was an-” You mutter trying to remember the word.  “- an anomaly and you know it!”

“…..”

“Ok der were 2 anomalies!”

“3”

“Ok maybe Tim is the anomaly, but seriously, Nay, he’s fine,” You snarl, the jaggedness of your Gotham accent rearing its head. You wince but do not apologize. This will bite you in the ass later but you didn’t say it. You don’t like the taste of the word.

“No. I mean if you don’t want us to embarrass you at the church social then- Yes, I have been going to church,” You can see Tim rolling his eyes and mouthing liar with a twitch of his lip in the corner of your vision. “No, he’s not the showy type. Nay, I gotta go. The food’s burning,”

“Yes, Nay, I lab you bery mach,” You sigh into the phone letting your grandmother’s lather your tongue cutting into the briskness of your consonants. It held the same euphoria as taking off your shoes after a particularly long day.

“Unless you’re Dick, you can’t burn cereal,” Tim cut in carting you away from your reverie.

“Watch me, Drake,” You huff throwing a pillow at Tim almost making him drop his cereal bowl.

“So, can Gotham survive without Red Robin for a weekend?”

“Shouldn’t you have asked me this before telling your grandma that you’re taking me?”

“I’m just double-checking,”

“How considerate,”

“To be fair, your schedule is already volatile as is,"  You huff snuggling up to him on the couch. It was too cold in Tim’s apartment. You think a rich kid like him could afford to turn up the heat. Though, you aren’t exactly going to complain about an excuse to cuddle him.

Tim doesn’t make a move to push you away. Instead, he wraps his arm around you pulling you closer. This was the type of easy affection you two had become accustomed to. This was also the thing that will make your Schrade even more convincing. "True, but I asked Cass and the others to cover for me. Plus, your grandma sounds like she likes me,”

“Considering you don’t have a criminal record and aren’t currently being investigated, you immediately rocketed to the top of her list,” You answer absentmindedly stirring your cereal and taking a bite.

Tim whips his head to you and gives you a concerned look which you return with a smile full of cereal. He blanches at you, shaking his head and grabbing the remote to unpause the Star Trek episode you two were watching. You both prop your feet up and chew your cereal slowly, not feeling any reason to hurry.

How long has it been since you started? You’re pretty sure it was 1 AM when you started.

As if reading your mind, Tim looks at his phone, winces then turns back to the screen without another word.  You quirk your brow at him but decide that there is some truth to the saying ignorance is bliss.

You were gonna hate yourselves come noon.

 It’s noon, the sun has the audacity to show itself,  and you hate yourself.

You definitely, unequivocally hate yourself.

You groan in the passenger seat, head pressed against the cool window. The faint warmth of the sun glancing off your skin makes the tinges of nausea circling the periphery of your senses come to life. Your stomach does a cartwheel and you think- you’re sure you’re going to throw up but you aren’t gonna do that.

No way in hell are you gonna do that. Not when you’ve finally conned your way into monopolizing Tim’s attention for the weekend.

Ok, yeah, sure it was the result of some miscommunication between you and your cousin who then passed on the miscommunication to the whole goddamn family but that’s just what you call a happy accident.

You blow out a breath, greedily taking in all the coolness of the glass pressed against your skin calling your mind back to your body. You weren’t really good with handling the not sleeping thing.

“You ok?” Tim asked his eyes flickering between you and the alarmingly empty road. There was worry in his eyes whether it was the fact that you looked like shit or the fact that the road you were on looked like the opening to a terrible 80s slasher flick. It was Halloween after all. It would be pretty perfect. Dread licks at your stomach at the thought.

You let the silence lapse. In the corner of your eye, you see Tim’s hand tighten on the steering wheel. You stare at the expanse of farmland stretching to the horizon debating whether to humor his question or to let him stew.

“I’m fine,” You picked the third option.

“You don’t look fine,” Tim deadpans, turning to you.

“Stop looking then-” Tim scowls at you his pouty lips pulling into an angle. You sneer. “-You don’t look too good yourself, Kirk,”

Tim makes an offended noise. You look at Tim, really look at him, for the first time in hours. Tim, as per usual, looked obnoxiously handsome even though he was running on at most 30 minutes of sleep and had eye bags running down his face. Somewhere lost in his contemplative expression was the blindingly obvious hint of self doubt. You’ve seen it tons of times.

You peel yourself away from the cool glass to look Tim in the eyes. Dread swims in the pools of teal looking straight back at you. Tim’s mouth edges between a pout and a frown. You soften, shifting in your seat angling until your body is facing his.

“Whatever it is you’re overthinking it,”

“You don’t even know what I’m thinking!”

“Ay,” You chuckle and shake your head. “Tim, it’s you. You overthink everything. I don’t need to be a mind reader to see that,”

 Tim huffs. Maybe he was overthinking things.

“ ‘sides, I don’t see why you would be nervous 'bout meeting my family,”

Has it occurred to you I want to date you for real at some point? Tim thought a little frustrated.

You laugh when he frowns but instead of teasing him any further. You flick the radio on. Your hackles rise as it crackles to life. A smile flickers on your face when ‘All-star’ comes on. You cry out, a noise of shrill joy filling the air.

“Oh my god” Tim breathes, running his long fingers through his dark hair. “You absolute dork,”

“Kettle. Pot.” You grin.

Tim snorts as you loudly sing along with the radio. Unfortunately for him, your enthusiasm for the song was infectious. Somehow you both managed to miss every beat of the song.

You somehow felt like you were definitely forgetting something.

6 cans of monster and 5 things of 5-hour-energy drink later, you arrived. Tim’s nice-looking car pulls into the dusty gravel driveway of a rather large and old colonial looking house. Seeing the robust form of the large house looming in the distance injected your veins with a stifling source of dread. 

You love your family to bits but sometimes their presence weighed so much. You can feel their words already pecking at you, drawing pit and pieces of your self into frayed fibers. All you can think about were the comments hushed behind palms and the dissecting gaze of dark eyes. Your mouth feels dry and you can already feel your feet pivoting back towards the car.

Tim reaches for your hand, lacing his slender fingers between yours.  He smiles at you squeezing your hand. You can feel him rattling from his own anxiety but his effort steadies you. You grin at him and squeeze back.  

Your teeth click the entire walk up to the large oak doors. Tim squeezes your hand again, his teal eyes sweeping over you with a concerned glint. You furrow your brow and somehow he understands and raises his hand to knock on the door.

The door bursts open. Music and laughter wash over you as hands hurry you into the front hall.

“Nay! Dito na sya! May dalang gwapo!” (Mom, y/n’s here and they brought someone handsome.)

About 20 heads turn to look at you. Tim feels some embarrassment from the attention but that doesn’t last too long as in the space of about 5 seconds, those 20 heads were swarming you both, pulling you into hugs, shaking your hands, and ruffling your hair in varying degrees of force and order.

“Beh, you’ve grown so big” Your aunt coos squishing your face.

“Nena, look at this guy,”

“Tita, he doesn’t have any tattoos,” Your little cousin marveled looking bug-eyed as she lifted Tim’s shirt. You swat her away but take a quick second to subtly admire Tim’s sculpted abs. Your aunt scolds him and your uncle drags you to the main room where more guests were sitting chattering or screaming at a foreign horror movie.   

All the apprehension bundled into your stiff shoulders dissolves like seafoam against the overwhelming warmth of the festivities. The raucous laughter drags the roughness of Gotham away from your tongue. In place of your slow, careful syllables are quick clattering consonants and concise vowels. Your vowels were still elongated and angled to a sharp point unlike the nearly musical words of your cousins but as you said before ‘Gotham has its way of burying itself in your bones’. Tim just never thought about how saliently it showed itself in words. He wonders how his accent (folded, neat, and sterilized) sounds to you. He wonders how dull he sounds to you.

You have teased him about it. You’ve teased him endlessly about the way upper-class Manhattan just rolls off his tongue, how Alfred’s British affectations worm their way into his syllables. What you don’t tell him is how the smooth velvet of his words lull you into a hypnotic state that steals every bit of oxygen from your lungs.  What you can’t make yourself tell him is that you would gladly spend your whole life listening to him read a fucking phone book. 

The festivities were lively and informal. Jokes flying every which way. All alternating between your native tongue. You laugh into your drink, hiding the hesitant curve blunting your infectious smile. Tim nudges you to ask what’s wrong but you simply nudge him back and shake your head as if he had said something funny. Your relatives didn’t seem to notice your demeanor or if they did they left it alone.

Tim decides to leave it alone for now. Instead, he leaned into the flow of conversation. His years of speaking at galas working their magic on your aunts. They bombarded him with questions. Most of which sounded like screening questions at the embassy. You snarled at them more than once to knock it off but Tim shook it off. He knows they’re just worried about you the same way he worried for you. Well, not the same way but it was their way of showing they cared. He lets himself be immersed in the conversation.  It’s more like he tuned into the sweet sound of your laughter but made sure to dedicate enough restraint to not look like a love-sick puppy.

“Tanga!” (MORON!)

“Baliw!” (Crazy!)

“E gago ka pala, di ba halata yun?” (No shit sherlock, isn’t it obvious?)

Tim is at best confused as he watches the volley of words between you and your cousin. Your voices rising above the blaring karaoke. Anthony (?) clamps a hand on his shoulder and laughs as he watches you and Martin (?) hurl insults at each other. In the corner of your eye, you watch his reactions checking if he understood a word. He isn’t fluent but he understood bits and pieces. He’s heard you mutter angrily about customers enough times to distinguish an insult. 

“Dun worry about 'em. They won’t fight. They’re stupid but they’re not that stupid. ‘Sides, they’re too afraid of Nay for that,”

Tim gives Anthony a doubtful look. Anthony chuckles at him, clapping him on the back urging him to keep watching. He does if only to make sure you’ll be alright. When he does, he tunes into your words. Tim marvels at how musical you sound as you trade another round of rapid-fire jabs with Martin, how at ease you seem. Tim makes a mental note to get you to teach him. Though, he wasn’t entirely sure how he would justify it.  Admittedly, part of it was just wanting to spend more time with you.

He can probably swing it.

A surge of protectiveness crowds his veins when Martin grabs at you but his hand is swatted by a cane. The air crackles with a sharp snap. The room plunges into silence.  A small woman with silver hair stands tall and imperious at the other end of the cane. You and your cousins stiffen.

“Hi Nay,” You trail off with a distinct lack of grace. You swallow the lump forming your throat, robbed of any coherent thought by the stinging look in her eyes. You felt bare under her gaze. Layers and layers of skin peeling beneath the weight of her attention. Fury flickers like firelight across her dark eyes. Your skin suddenly felt like lint and you were sure you would catch fire.

A pause.

A bated breath held for what felt like an eternity.

“Iha(Iho), It’s been so long,” She says, softening. Her wrinkled face stretches into a kind smile that made you think of freshly cooked vegetables.  Her cane folding to her side as she loops her arm over your shoulders. “It’s nays to see you,”

A choked sound comes out of you and you feel something shake loose. “Missed you too, Nay,” You breathed. Tim feels awkward, fidgeting in his place.  

The soft smile on your grandmother fades a little. Her sharp eyes appraising Tim. The look wasn’t particularly venomous, but it left Tim feeling like he’d been cut open and analyzed. He wasn’t entirely sure of why you were all so scared of her before but now he fully understood.

She relinquishes her grip on you and urges you to go back to Tim. You frown a little, giving her a suspicious look which she returns innocently.  You let out a little breath before walking back to Tim’s side. She gives him another long once over before silently strolling away. His stomach churned but eased at your touch. You still look uneasy but you don’t fuss over it. Not when Martin decides that he wasn’t quite done with bickering.

 The festivities went on as normal. Maybe with a little less cussing going around. But Tim barely noticed when your laugh, free of any hesitance, echoed sonorously in his ear as he held you close. 

Roz presses a drink into his hand. “Congrats, you’ve survived round one of Nay’s hazing,”

“Round one?” Tim hiccups into his drink. He coughed. The beer was strong. A strangely potent amount of alcohol that made his throat burn.

“Yeah, Roz, that was more like round 2.” You mutter sullenly, distinctly taking no sips of the drink Roz had also handed you. The paranoid Bat-part of his brain screams that he’s been poisoned. He’s struggling not to let it win over but your conversation wasn’t helping.

“Nay will eat him alive,”

“I mean. She’ll do it nicely,”

“Pfffft, right! Ok, Tony, name one time she’s been nice.”

“How about-”

“The thing with Y/n earlier doesn’t count,”

“Why not?”

“There was a hidden agenda,”

“Oh shit! The bitch is right- Ow! You are!”

You look at Tim apologetically and squeeze his hand. Somehow this does not calm his nerves, but he tries his best to ease into his touch.

 On the trip here, you warned him that it was going to be exhausting. He assumed, incorrectly, that you were exaggerating. After all, he’s survived snobby rich people and his family. Your family seemed nice. He can survive a nice family dinner.

But what you neglected to tell him was that it would be sheer chaos.  He definitely wasn’t prepared for the sensory overload.  The house was almost unbearably loud compared to the manor. Every corner was filled with people chattering, playing games,  eating, and doing anything to entertain themselves. Sure, Tim was used to chaos but he was more accustomed to short bursts. He wasn’t quite as prepared for the seemingly endless stream of conversations and liquor.

You had definitely not prepared his poor unassuming introverted ass well enough. Not even halfway through the night, Tim was ready to crash. The 20 minutes of sleep he got beforehand had not helped. 

You, the angel that you are, guide him away from the party. You drag yourselves down the wide yawning corridor to the grand staircase.

Lit only by the thin veil of moonlight, the house showed its age. Walking up the stairs and walking through its hallways was like falling through time. The halls were lined with paintings, all landscapes and still-lifes. He’s thankful for that small mercy. His head swimming in liquor, he is reminded of the portraits at Wayne Manor and how their eyes burned at you as you passed.

The lack of portraits doesn’t make the house any less creepy mind you. Religious fixtures line the halls, crucifixes affixed to every arch-like mistletoes. There were doll-like statues of hollow-eyed saints at every corner table. It might have been the dancing moonlight but Tim swore he saw one of them move. Tim suddenly wishes he hadn’t ingested so much liquor.

Before long, you make your way to a bedroom. How the hell you knew which one to put him in was anyone’s guess. You lead him into the room. Touch gentle and careful as you coaxed him in. Soft jazzy music echoing hauntingly. The dancing moonlight and the solid shadows of the room highlighting your gorgeous features, drawing his attention to your plush lips. You lean over him to make sure he was indeed still part of the living. Liquid courage surging in his face, he presses his lips to yours. It’s cautious. He gently runs his hand through your hair, pulling you towards him with a push. The press of his lips is restrained, more of a question than a demand. Slightly chapped lips press against your sweet and searching.

Tim remembers the warm press of your lips, the way the pads of fingers trail against the soft fabric of his shirt, your warm breath fanning against his cool skin, then nothing.

Knock

Knock

KNOCK

Tim grouses into his pillow. Tim was having an absolutely wonderful dream. He could still feel your warm lips against his.  Tim squeezes his eyes trying to go back to sleep.

Knock

KNOCK

KNOCK

‘1 AM’ the antique analog clock at the nightstand reads.

“I’m up!” He lies burying himself further into the thick sheets.

His brothers really needed to stop breaking into his apartment at 1-

KNOCK

KNOCK

KNOCK

Tim nearly falls out of bed when he remembers where he is. He jams a shirt over his head and some sweatpants before stumbling to the door.

“Hey Tim, you coming?” Anthony asks through the crack of the door.

Tim opens the door a little wider. “Where?”

“Outside,” Roz shrugs vaguely.

 “Whe-”

You step out of your room, extremely hesitant. Your knuckles were turning white from apprehension. You look at Tim, surprise plain in your eyes. You flinch heat rising to your cheeks. Tim remembers the texture of your soft lips. He wishes that wasn’t a dream. You glare at your cousins who give you a confused look. 

“Roz, he-”

“Awwww, ‘insan, you’re actually coming?” Martin mocks clapping you on the shoulder drawing, what Tim considers, an adorable squeak from you. His heart almost leaps from his chest when your warm body presses further into Tim’s side. You can’t hear it but Tim’s breath stutters in his chest.  He loops his arm around you protectively. Martin gives both of you a sly conspiratorial look.

You scowl at Martin. Glaring with as much intensity and intimidation your burning cheeks would allow. Roz swats him over the head making him almost topple down the steps before Anthony even gets a chance to rebuke him. Instead, Anthony turns to you, brows furrowed. “You sure you want to come? Nay said-”

“La a!” Martin protested. Roz rolls her eyes and swats him again. “Dipshit’s right. Nay didn’t say jack,”

“Then why did you swat me?”

“E, I felt like it e,”

“Bish, whose side are you on?!” He snarls but before he can lunge at Roz, Anthony is already dragging him by the scruff of his neck.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh! Not so loud. The kids will hear us,”

“I for one will not help you wrangle tita’s crotch gremlins,”

“We’re going to be late and Nay is going to unleash hell upon us,”

Anxiously, you tug at Tim urging him to follow your cousins as they filed out through the back door.

 “Where are we going?” Tim hisses.

All four of you share a look.

“We’ll explain,” You promise.

 The journey was eerie. Punctuated by the fact that none of you explain jack. The walk was entirely silent, devoid of bickering or any sort of conversation. He can see the silence driving both Roz and Anthony mad. You honestly look like you’re going to keel over. The odd thing was that even the birds were silent. Not a single sound penetrated the thick canopy of juniper trees.

You wonder the woods guided only by the thin ribbons of silver light peaking through the thick clouds of leaves. Tim can feel your pulse as it thundered in your chest. No matter what was going on he would keep you safe.

You arrive in front of a rusted gate half a foot shorter than Tim. It was small, easily climbable with plenty of spiraling pieces to stick your foot into for purchase if needed. Your eyes cut to Roz who fished out a key he’d seen perched on one of the coat racks.  Hesitantly, you held your hand out for the key. Roz, on the other hand, all but slammed it into your hand, grinning in a mix of absolute glee and relief. Your teeth click as you worked the lock. He wants to suggest just going over it but you seem quite adamant and he wasn’t about to push your nerves.

Finally, the lock gives in.

You all file in one at a time in a sort of practiced motion. Beyond the gates was a path with its stones polished from a shine from use. The scarce light coming from the canopy of trees rippling against them. It lit the rest of the way still keeping the surroundings in deep shadow.

The path ended in front of a small dilapidated stone structure that seemed too small to house anything.

“Age before beauty,” Martin jeers, bending down dramatically urging Roz to go in. She, in turn, shoves him in with a swift kick. The dark interior of the structure swallows him whole. Her dark eyes cut to you. You swallow but ultimately you shrug off Tim’s hold and relinquish your death grip on Tim’s arm. You let out a shaky breath as you step over the threshold. Just like Martin before you, the shadows leave no trace of you.

Tim reaches for the last bit of your swaying blanket. Roz taking the chance shoves Tim over the threshold, his vision goes pitch black.

“See you there, lover boy~”

The darkness is all-encompassing making his eyes completely useless as much as he tries to adjust them. Instead, he strains all of his other senses. He feels the press of moss-covered walls closing in on him. The staircase only seemed wide enough to let one person pass at a time. The stairs wind in shallow predictable patterns. The scent of moss and burning firewood grew heavy as he made his descent. Distantly, he could hear the soft padding of your shoes against the stone but he also heard the crackle of jazzy music. It was the kind he only heard from the old black and white movies Bruce and Alfred watched. It was oddly familiar but he couldn’t place it. The smooth baritone of the singer rattles in his head. A shiver of mild discomfort travels up his spine.

After what feels like an eternity, Tim emerges. His eyes slamming shut from the sudden brightness of his surroundings. He blinks, eyes adjusting to the light. His eyes take in his surroundings.

He was in a clearing. It was man-made, constructed using the same stones that lined the path you’d taken. The stone walls were covered in moss and ivy, but the stone that did peak out reflected the moonlight freely raining drown from the clear autumn sky. In the center of the space, sit 9 people including yourself. All cast in the warm glow of the crackling bonfire. It is a living thing, raging and casting shadows sharpening and obscuring features.

“I’m so glad you could join us, Timothy,” Your grandmother calls out as she fiddles with the nobs of the old radio perched in her lap. It crackles uncooperatively despite her efforts. He can’t pry his eyes away from it even as he takes his seat next to your shivering form.

Without much thought, Tim pulls you close. You tremble, teeth still clicking eyes wild and fixed on the radio. The radio is a curious thing. It’s an old model. It’s sleek but dotted with various nobs and switches. If he had to guess, it was something out of the 1960s. In the periphery of his senses, he hears Roz and Anthony step out of the staircase and take their places in the circle with Roz sitting right next to your grandmother.

Your grandmother stops fiddling with the radio then turns to Roz who is now comfortably seated. Your teeth chatter and your shoulder hitch as they silently converse. Roz inhales then exhales. Her dark eyes sweep over all of you making sure she had your attention. Based on the silence and the still forms, she did. She sits a little straighter, her shoulders rolling back.

She throws herself into a tale. It was a story she’d heard long ago about a man, a house, and a secret. Her calm voice carries over the soft roaring of the bonfire. It wasn’t the scariest tale Tim had heard but Roz told it well. Well enough to draw squeaks from several people including yourself.

Tim relaxes catching on to the turn of events. He lets you press into his side as you make your feeble attempt to get away from the story. Tim chuckles at the amount of theatrics you’ve all put into building up to this little gathering. However, all his smug skepticism vanishes when Roz finishes her story.

The static from the radio vanishes. Its various nobs move without assistance and its switches click into place.  The same baritone voice carries from the radio. Tim doesn’t hear what it says as his mind reels. He turns to you and opens his mouth to ask but Anthony begins his tale before Tim can even formulate his question. Beside him, you fidget with his sleeve shaking hands clenching and unclenching on the fabric.

Tim remembers how much you hate ghost stories. You’d once gotten sick with a fever just from watching horror movies. At this point, you were on the verge of tears. Your breathing slowed abnormally as Martin finished his story. The radio predictably did not whirr to life after his story. Through your chattering teeth, you give your cousin a vicious smile which he volleys by sticking his tongue out petulantly.

It’s your turn.

You squeeze Tim’s hand twice before worming out of his grasp. You flutter your long lashes, lightcatching in them looking golden as the fire flickered urging you to delve into your story. You roll your shoulders and let your blanket and apprehension slide away in one smooth action.

You tell your story.

 Your countenance still and grave as you tell a story of crossroads and terrible choices.

The radio huffs, seemingly amused by your effort.

“Well, y/n,” The radio coos. Your name drips like molasses from its speakers. It’s unsettling how crisp it sounds. Its voice absent of static as it addresses you. “You sure do know about bad choices. I believe so does that young thing- Pardon me. Young things swimming in the harbor. They’re just a tinsy bit cut up about it.” The radio teases almost sounding gleeful. You nod gravely, stomach reaching the floor.

Harbor?

You settle back down into your seat. Tim nudges you, cocking his head to the side to question you. Your fist clenches and unclenches in your lap before you look him in the eyes again.

“Case,” You mouth silently.

It clicks.

The harbor.

 The bodies.

That’s what the radio meant.

Someone clears their throat urging Tim to tell a story. He stumbles through a half-remembered urban legend he heard from Steph awhile ago. His mind far too preoccupied with the new information to really devote to any theatrics.

 His turn passes.

And the stories continue as he mulls over the information.

It’s your grandmother’s turn. Your hand grips Tim’s arms white-knuckled. You attempt to swallow down the fear but it catches in your throat constricting your airway. The flames dance casting her face in sinister shadows that bring out all the sharp angles in her features. Her smile curls cruel. Her bony fingers trace the seems and delicate patterns embossed on the old radio. Static erupts loud then dies down just as quickly. Her smokey voice fills the air. Heavy and commanding. The story spills from her lips smooth and velvety slick with gore and unspoken horrors. None of you dare to speak. Some don’t even breathe. Your hands scrabble for purchase on Tim’s shirt as you bury your face in his chest. You feel him wrap himself around you shielding you the best he can. Ear pressed to his chest, you can hear Tim’s pulse hammering. The terror soaking through to his bones. He remains steady. Unflinching even as the story reaches its climax.

The flames flash, fade, then flicker.  

The radio crackles.

The smooth baritone of its voice distorting into something undeniably inhuman.

Shadows dance.

Their hands reaching out as the flames did. A hard yank from one of them nearly topples you out of Tim’s arms.  He shifts you both away from their grasp. He glares fiercely at them making sure you’re safe.

Sorrowful moans fill the air but your grandmother is undeterred.

With a shrill cry from the radio, everything dies down.

The shadows retreat.

The fire simmers down now small and tame.

Everyone lets out a breath. Both of you could feel everyone unfurl. Tense muscles, locked jaws, tight chests all loosen with the end of the story.

For a long moment, the entire circle is still. Then your grandmother stands up. The rest follow her in a mostly quiet procession up the steps.

“Roddy was harsh this year,” Martin whines.

“Nope, you’re just terrible at it. I mean hell even y/n got an answer. It was creepy as all shit but they got an answer,”

“Uh- Is it a good time to ask what just happened?”

Your cousins turn to you.

“You really didn’t tell him anything, did you?”

“How do you propose I bring up the demonic radio?”

“Pffft,”

“Pirst, it isn’t demonic. Do you really think Nay would have kept it if it was?”

“She lets Martin hang around,”

“…….”

“Dis is a good point,”

“HEY”

Tim clears his throat.

“Raaayt, Ok so… once a year we tell the spooky radio stories so we can get answers or our future told,”

“Was the whole creepy walk necessary?”

“Nope,” You answer in chorus.

“It’s just our way of psyching up for it,”

“It’s your guy’s way. Tita at least let’s me hum songs,”

“Well excuse me for not wanting to listen to you sing,”

“Is there anything else you guys want to tell me?”

“Aside from y/n really not wanting to tell-”

You snarl at your cousins, red-faced and bearing your teeth. Martin and Roz cackle as they run. Anthony has the decency to at least look slightly apologetic as he runs.

“Y/n… What aren’t you telling me?”

“Tim, I- I’m- Damn it- I-” You put your hands on your face. You try to calm your breaths. “Look Tim, I-”You take another breath. “I’m sorry. I kissed you but you were drunk-”

“Wait that wasn’t a dream?” There’s a flicker in Tim’s chest.

You look at him mortified. You want the ground to swallow you whole. “Yeah, I- Tim, I know it’s- I’m sorry.”

He remains silent.

Your stomach feels like it’s going to burn up.

“I-”

“I want a redo,”

“A what?”

“A redo,” 

a/n: I will rework the ending at some point but thank you for reading! 

 taglist:   @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders (I wanna drag you into Terry hell), @l-horizon11

[flowercoasts]

the evolution of beau’s crush on jester

or, i looked at marisha’s likes on twitter for 2 hours and here are my findings

DISCLAIMER: i only went as far back as December of 2018 (12/20/18) because of the boat scene. i also left out beau & jester fanarts that i personally deemed to be largely platonic and not too relevant to this.... study (?).

#1: around December 2018, episode 46, was a pivotal moment in Beau & Jester’s relationship, the Boat Scene. accordingly, marisha liked 3 separate fanarts of Beau & Jester saying “i love you”/hugging around December 20-24 2018. none were explicitly shippy, and most seemed platonic in nature.

#2: marisha liked two more tweets about beau loving jester/feeling protective over her. again, mainly platonic and not shippy in nature. both were liked on 1/31/19, which, according to a quick cross-reference with a tweet by critical role on the same date, was the airing date of episode 50 - here, the m9 were traveling underground, beau read some smut books aloud, and acted with jester and called her “mistress”.

#3: the first real hint of beaujester - marisha liked a fanart with “okay but my heart explodes every time beau sees jester sad/scared/frustrated and she goes a lil soft” beau & jester are hugging and the fanart is tagged #beaujester. marisha liked it on 4/21/19 - this is after the 59th episode (aka beau stays up with jester through her sickness).

#4: a fanart from day 1 of Beaujester Week 2019 depicting the two in battle together. it’s only tagged with #beaujester and did not have marisha tagged. marisha liked it on 7/25/19 - the closest beaujester scene in canon would’ve been the dress scene in ep 71 but marisha specifically liked other dress scene fanarts, so she found it through the #beaujester tag.

#5: speaking of the Dress Scene - marisha liked a fanart of that scene on 7/26/19. it is not tagged as beaujester or shippy in nature, but considering previous likes and marisha’s own words about the Dress Scene on Talks, it’s safe to say Beau was feeling some type of way.

#6: that dress scene really sparked marisha’s beaujester mind! marisha liked a fanart with the caption “if yellow is the happiest color, your blue puts it to shame” which depicts beau and jester in a romantic dancer-esque pose, holding hands, smiling, and surrounding by falling rose petals. it’s tagged with #beauster, tags marisha and laura, and she liked it on 7/26/19, BUT the art was created on 3/6/19! either marisha went through the fanarts she was tagged in or she went through the #beauster tag on twitter.

#7: her likes for beaujester become more and more frequent - a fanart depicting beau kissing jester on the cheek was tagged with #beaujes. marisha liked this tweet on 8/22/19, aka the thursday that episode 76 aired: the one where beau goes “i look at jester” after kissing reani!

#8: another beau & jester fanart, though this one isn’t shippy in nature - it simply depicts beau and jester in winter clothes. however, marisha liked it on 8/23/29, and it comes right after the previous like of #7 (above), which is a little bit telling. still not as important as —

#9: sizzlebread’s infamous “what is it about jester” fanart that marisha and laura both liked. marisha liked this on 11/15/19, the night of episode 85, aka Beau’s crush confession.

#10: another piece that isn’t necessarily romantically beaujester in nature but depicts beau looking fondly up at jester, who’s leaning on her. it also comes right between two big beaujester likes from marisha. she liked it on 12/19/19, the night of episode 89, where Beau and Jester had their most recent conversation at the Cottage in Rexxentrum.

#11: the most recent beaujester like from marisha is ruushes amazing beaujester tattoo art. the caption is “tattoo designs... but make it beaujes” and marisha liked it on 12/20/19, again the closest episode to that is 89.

MORE CONCISE TIMELINE

December 20-24, 2018: platonic beau & jester fanarts of the Boat Scene from episode 46.

January 31, 2019: 2 platonic fanarts of beau loving/feeling protective over jester. can be connected to episode 50.

April 21, 2019: a fanart tagged with #beaujester that marisha liked after episode 59.

July 22, 2019: a dress scene fanart from episode 71 and a romantic beaujester piece! the first one is not tagged as beaujester, but the second one is romantic and tagged as #beauster.

July 25, 2019: a beaujester week 2019 fanart that marisha liked.

August 22, 2019: a romantic fanart tagged with #beaujes. marisha liked this on the night episode 76 aired.

August 23, 2019: not necessarily a romantic beaujester piece, but it comes right after the last like of August 22.

November 15, 2019: the iconic sizzlebread crush rendition. marisha liked this on 12/19/19, the day that episode 85 aired, where beau revealed her crush on jester.

December 19, 2019: this one is not explicitly beaujester but it comes right between two of the bigger beaujester fanarts and marisha liked the art on the night that episode 89 aired.

December 20, 2019: ruushes amazing tattoo art, complete with a beaujes caption. romantic vibes all around!

MY THOUGHTS: just as marisha said on the Talks after episode 85, it’s hard to pinpoint where exactly beau realized! but i can make a pretty solid guess. beau’s always had a soft spot for jester, which marisha confirmed on the special “discussing campaign 2 so far” talks episode. beau’s feelings for jester have probably always been in the back of her mind (in ep 2 jester says “should we take our clothes off?” and beau answers, “did you say that because you wanna tell me something?” timestamp 2:54:38) but she never pursued it because she thought it would never happen. however, sometime around the xhorhas arc, those feelings began to become a little more prominent. there’s a list of beaujester moments that happen during/after the xhorhas arc i could list: “in a way” of ep 49 , “i follow jester” in 53, the beaujester talk of 70, the worm battle in 73, their scenes in the happy fun ball, All of their Little Moments... but i would say the Dress Scene of episode 71 was the moment of realization/reflection, or at least a big moment in Beau’s journey to revealing her crush. marisha’s likes seem to become more romantically beaujester-inclined after the Dress Scene as well.

so there you have it! my findings, accompanied by some speculation and episode cross referencing.

again, these are all my own thoughts! take my findings and do with it what you will!

(i have screenshots if needed btw)

[nad-zeta]

Hi! I'd like to request for a match up if you are available ❤️ I really don't talk to much at the start and I find it difficult to start a conversation most of the time. But when we become close friends, I won't stop pestering you until you get annoyed that you want to throw me out of your window. (1/3)

I think of myself as an average person. I have lots of interests but I don't believe I have any expertise. I am more of a general knowldge person : I am interested in medicine, science, art, history and eating. I can tolerate light to medium spice; I like sweets but not too sweet. (2/3) get interested in people that acts aloof but I also fear rejection. When I feel it's just too much, It makes me want to stop. I love to laugh, I am talkative but a bit insecure and unsure of myself, but I don't want to show it to anyone. I just want to make people around me happy, and I know that when I radiate positive vibes around me, it will just spread to my friends. I hope you'll pair me with Ieyasu hahahha but If you think I am more compatible with the others, I am very glad to know,  Thank you very much! :)

Hey there love I hope you didn’t have to wait too long for this ^0^ Thanx so much for the request, and I hope you enjoy it! Hehe, this definitely wasn’t on purpose. I went through the list of warlords, and to me, you just fit perfectly with this boy!

I match you with.................. Ieyasu

The first time everyone meets you, its like dead silence. You can’t help if you are a bit awkward and shy. It’s not until the one-eyed dragon starts poking your cheek while saying:” you really don’t talk much do you lass, don’t be scared of these guys they won’t bite, although I might’. Your eyes went wide at that statement, and you backed away slowly. The next to speak was Mitsunari, he beamed his bright smile at you, “Let all be friends.” You loved the positive vibe it made you feel a little more at ease. “well this is boring if this council is done then I’m leaving,”. It was now Ieyasu’s turn to talk. He then turned his emerald green eyes on you, your breath caught in your throat. You had never seen such beautiful eyes. He rolled his eyes without saying anything and walked away. What a strange man. The rest of the oda forces continued to tease you for the rest of the day. You made quick friends with everyone due to your positive good vibes. The maids especially liked working with you because you somehow would make even the most horrendous task light and enjoyable

You hadn’t even been there a week, and the warlords were all off to war. Upon their arrivals back you had heard that Ieyasu had taken a considerable beating and was now super injured. Everyone was worried about the aloof porcupine. He had a bad habit of pushing himself too far and not taking his own injuries seriously. You sat in war council listening to the worried warlord’s gossip, that is when you finally spoke up to state your own opinion. “I used to practice medicine back home, perhaps I could go and check up on him.” You were met with smiling faces all round. “Very well fireball, Ieyasu shall be placed in your care until he is healed.” And that my friend is how you landed up bag in hand outside of Ieyasu’s palace. Part of Nobunagas official orders was that you were to stay in his palace and monitor his health. The head maid happily let you in and showed you to your room while conversing in some light conversation with you. Once you were settled, you went to see how Ieyasu was doing. He looked terrible, He looked like a porcelain doll, he was so pale and thin. You walked up to his bedside and placed your hand on his forehead. Shit, he has a fever, you looked around in hopes of finding something that would help you bring it down when you realized that, Ieyasu to must be into medicine cause his whole room was fully packed and stocked with every medical supply imaginable. You thanked the Lord at that moment for being a jack of all trades, as you had recently watched a youtube video about how to make medicine using only plants. You Carefully ground up a herb mix and made Ieyasu both something of the pain and something for his fever.

Ieyasu woke up to feel the presence of someone invading his space. His blurry eyes stared at a form near his workstation, grinding up herbs. He wanted to say something, but his throat was so dry, and he was feeling so cold. You came to sit beside him, placing beside you a bucket with cold water. Finally, his emerald eyes focused on you and widened. He managed to choke out, “What are you doing here.” You simply shushed him and offered him a tablespoon of the fever medicine. “here drink, it with help with the fever.” He narrowed his eyes, “And how do I know that is not some kind of poison.” Ieyasu could feel himself losing conciseness, you noticed this and put your arm around his head and neck to support it while bringing the spoon to his mouth. Ieyasu woke up to feeling a soothing cloth on his forehead, he absentmindedly relaxed into your fingers, caressing his face and hair. Once he fully woke up, his eyes shot open to see you staring at him with a slight smile and warm look in your eyes. “OOOh, your awake; I’m so glad.” You helped the grumpy boy sit up and brought a spoon of spicey soup to his lips “I can feed myself, I’m not some child, and as you can see my fever has broken and I’m as healthy as a horse so you can go home now.” You just glared at him, he relented by rolling his eyes and opening his mouth to drink some soup. You didn’t miss the cute blush that spread over his face as you fed him. And this was the start of your beautiful relationship

You would care for Ieyasu, changing his bandages, making him pain meds, and forcing him to get back into the futon to rest. You would also cook for Ieyasu. He would never admit it bad darn your food was good, it has just the right amount of spiciness. And boy did you live for the small slither of a smile on this boy’s lips when he would eat your food. The two of you really got to know each other while you were caring for him. You realized his aloofness was just a front to hide his insecurities. And you would talk Ieyasu’s ear off. You were overjoyed when you found out softi boy had a crazy good sense of humor. Once you found this out you would crack all the jokes

You lived to see Ieyasu’s laugh, this boy laughed with his whole body. “Haha, Stop Haha Making jokes, haha, you will be my death” He would just laugh and grip his stomach. You were the only one in the world privileged enough to see this sweet boy’s laugh. Some days you would talk so much that Ieyasu would threaten to throw you out the window so he could have some peace and quiet. You would just give him the biggest brightest smile, “I would love to see you try.”

Everyday Ieyasu would heal and get a bit more energy back. Until one day, he was fully recovered. It seems like it was time for you to leave and move back in with Nobunaga. You had walked into Ieyasu’s room and gave him his last dose of medicine, then he looked you dead in the eyes and said: “You know you can just stay right, it’s not like I was going to kick you out or anything.” You were ecstatic, at the statement, honestly between all the conversations and time spent with porcupine boy, you had fallen in love with him. You ran straight up to him and gave him the biggest hug. To the outside world, it may look like the two of you were rushing into a relationship, but honestly, if you know, you know.

You would often spend your afternoons with Ieyasu in his study, working on your newest skill. You were a jack of all trades but a master of none, and as of late, you had come to enjoy drawing. You would sit by the window and spend hours sketching wasabi out in the garden. Ieyasu would bring the two of you some spicy rice balls for lunch. The two of you would sit together while munching on the food, chatting about medicine and science. Yasu enjoyed the fact that he could have an intellectual conversation with you. It seemed like you knew a bit about every topic. 

When his back would get sore from leaning over the documents all afternoon, he would drift to where you were sitting and sketching. He would take a sneaky glance to try and see what you were doing. You would just look up covering your work, a little shy to show him your work. This would usually end in him tickling until you would let go of the sketchbook to let him see the drawing. He was in awe; it was so good.  

Ieyasu really loves everything about you. You are such a pure warm person, and he can’t help but smile when he is around you. He loves how you just bring him and his whole palace positive vibes. Somedays, he can low key tell you are feeling a bit down or insecure, and he will just walk up to you and pull you into a warm embrace. “Silly girl, it’s just us now so you can drop the mask and tell me what you are feeling insecure about.” You would hide your face in the crook of his neck and mutter what had caused you to feel a bit sad. Ieyasu would pull you down to sit on his lap at his desk. He lets you rest your head on his chest while he draws soothing circles on your back. You will fall asleep in his arms. He is so soft and sweet, hugging him is like hugging a big fluffy marshmallow. When you wake up, he will present you with a little doodle of you, him, and wasabi. You can’t help but laugh at the clumsily drawn picture. He would pout while being as red as a tomato. You would just thank him for cheering you up and give him a sweet kiss on the cheek

The two of you love spending time together. Both of you can often be found relaxing in each other arms reading. You would read up about your latest topic, and he would read the newest medical journal. Ieyasu will definitely drop a few Eskimo and butterfly kisses on your beautiful face to remind you of his love and affection for you

Other potential matches.................... Yukimura 

I hope you enjoyed dear! 

[rigelmejo]

7/26/2020

I DID IT! I FINISHED THE 2000 MOST COMMON WORDS FLASHCARD DECKS!!!!

WOOH!!!!

GOOD JOB!!! THIS IS A GOOD BASIS TO HAVE!!

—

AHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Also I MET THE GOAL! I did it within the month!!!! YEAH!!!!

—

Ahhhh!!! Ahhh! Okay! Ok!

In calmer news, I want to sit down at some point and update my study plan now.

I know what I want to change for now:

1. I want reading immersion to be my main activity I measure progress with and focus on. So how many chapters read per week etc. I want to really solidify my knowledge of the words I just studied while picking up new ones. I want to list my study materials out so I don’t get sidetracked: DeFrancis Reader, Butterfly Lovers, Sherlock, Tamen de Gushi, other novels, xiao wang zi, whatever things I’m reading and can Measure.

2. I want to make watching shows the secondary activity - I think this activity also solidifies my basis of words I know. I think this activity will be a good fast way to keep being exposed to words I should know now. As well as helping with speeding up reading, listening, and picking up some new words. And making the act OF watching easier, which is a skill that has to be developed itself.

3. I do want some flashcards to make progress in but I’m still brainstorming what I want those to be. I think one-word flashcards are now less useful. The exceptions are: Hanzi deck if I can get through it, and HSK deck ONLY as a gauge on my level compared to HSK. I am not prioritizing either at the moment. I think I should prioritize the Hanzi deck IF I start struggling to remember new words again. I do not plan to do HSK deck for a while, it’s just a comparison tool for me. Flashcard decks I am ACTUALLY considering studying regularly from: my self made sentence mining deck, the various sentence mining decks I’ve just added to pleco (which are good reading practice if nothing else), SpoonFed Chinese anki deck (the downside here is, I need to start using anki regularly if I use this), or Clozemaster chinese (the downside of this is it’s less curated, whereas both my Pleco sentences and SpoonFed are more concise and have less errors in the translations - the upside is that clozemaster easily measures progression).

I’m currently leaning toward SpoonFed Chinese or my Pleco pre-made sentence decks for now, but not sure which to do. I’m also not sure how much sentence mining srs i want to do. Alternatively - I do think it may be easier for me to make a habit of using clozemaster, since I’m bad at staying motivated without clear visual progress. I think for now most of my own sentence mining decks will be used primarily as “notes” for me to review as desired.

4. The issue of grammar. I do think while I have a good basic grasp which is enough to comprehend things, I want a little more understood nuance. I think I should either reread a grammar guide soon - or read one/some of my textbooks. Basically, I want to read something to review grammar again. The goal here would be to just read x pages of the book or guide a day, and be done with one. I’m thinking of reading either my Zheng Peng Peng books or Basic Chinese Sentence Patterns. Primarily because they’re my shorter books tbh, and also they have a lot of grammar I should know and therefore should drill more.

5. The issue of Hanzi. A big issue. Whether now or later, ideally a foundation in Hanzi helps. But I’m already in 2000+ words deep and who knows how many characters. I know I’m very unmotivated to do flashcards - but I also know they’ll help. So a worst case: I complete my Hanzi deck and that’s it. I’m contemplating alternatives either to do first or do instead (if they work well enough). The big issues for this is: how long do I keep postponing my study of this - the answer right now is UNTIL I NEED TO RELY ON A BETTER HANZI FOUNDATION THAN MY CURRENT ONE.

So Hanzi is currently not a priority to study. The other big issue is: if I read the books I already own, will that be a time waste or overdoing/postponing a need to do the Hanzi deck. Aka wasting my time, or using it less efficiently then desired at least. Ideally I would like to: read my 800 character and 2000 character books, read Alan Hoenig’s book, and then do the Hanzi deck if desired. Or, at minimum, read Alan Hoenigs book, then do the Hanzi deck if desired. I’m not sure if it’s better to... just only do the deck. The biggest thing is: this Hanzi issue will take time no matter what, months no matter what, and I basically need to decide whether to start now or later and how I plan to do it.

—

Rough idea of what I plan to do for August:

1. Prioritize reading. Just read and measure how much I’m reading by making notes on how many chapters x. I want to make progress in my reading skills and measure it, and also solidify my word knowledge without flashcards. (I would rather do this than sentence mine cards any day, and this is the skill I most want to improve in rn).

Main reading materials: Tamen de Gushi (or any webnovel as long as I aim for 1 chapter lengths and record when I’ve done x amount), and Beginning DeFrancis reader. Other readers are optional, less primary focus like: butterfly lovers, Sherlock, the lost tomb, etc - I will count any as successfully meeting the reading goal as long as I count them by chapter x done. If by some miracle I finish tamendegushi, I want to do one of Foxghosts recced novels next. IF at any point I feel no desire to read a novel, pick a DIFFERENT STORY and start that - it’s more important to be interested and keep reading (this is for future me when I get bored of DeFrancis Readers lol). If the different story is too difficult: go for a graded reader, or a foxghost rec because there should be several at or below my reading level.

2. Second priority is show watching. again, I want to prioritize reading and listening and comprehension skills. Optional: to listen to Guardian audiobook, or show audio, or Butterfly Lovers audio, or tamendegushi/equivalent novel Pleco audio, when walking to just add a bit more audio only practice. Optional: to try watching some shows with only audio. Although right now shows with chinese subtitles are priority. I want to track how much I’m watching so I can measure progress.

Main shows I plan to watch in August: The Lost Tomb (cause I want to catch up in this show!), and rewatch Guardian. Optional: Ancient Detectives, any show I want to watch, as long as it’s measured x number of episodes, I will accept it as progress.

3. I want to keep reviewing the flashcard decks I finished. Optional: I want to start dabbling in reviewing sentence cards, but I haven’t decided which on what decks or any goals, so no measured progress here yet. Main goal with all this is to maintain words I know, so any sentence card dabbling will at least be reviewing known words in context somewhat (just like reading and watching shows are).

4. Optional, at least until I make some measureable progress in chinese reading: read through some of my textbooks. No reviewing, just quick read throughs and move on if I don’t quite grasp something. Prioritize: Chinese Basic Sentence Patterns, THEN Zheng Peng Peng’s Books (in order of radicals, spoken Chinese, reading Chinese). Aim to read 1 chapter a sitting at least. Then either Alan Hoenigs Hanzi book, or my 800 and 2000 Hanzi books. The Hanzi books are least prioritized as I know I’m less likely to finish reading them.

5. Hanzi is NOT a priority right now: I will reevaluate if I’m struggling with remembering new words as I start reading more. For now, it is a task with a lot of effort and less great immediate payoff for my goals then the other tasks listed above. While I’d like to study this, it’s a time sink rn. However, if I DO study any Hanzi: I want to measure how many Hanzi flashcards I did, and I want to record how many pages of the Hanzi books I get through. That way, if I abandon this and come back later, I can pickup where I left off.

6. SUPER optional: working on production improvements. I plan to put this off as a major goal for a long while. That said, if for some reason I want to work on it: doing conversations in hellotalk, doing audio practice of me reading novel excerpts in hellotalk, me shadowing novels I’m reading or sentence flashcards, me shadowing shows and audio. The only measureable: me finishing that coursera course - if I do it, note it down if I finish it. None of this goal is currently going to be measured for progress.

So in summary: track progress of whatever I do in order to stay motivated. Focus on reading chapters, watching episodes, and reviewing studied words in August. Anything else is optional - measure it if I do it though.

I should feel noticeable comprehension progress by the end of August hopefully. Once August is over, reasses what goals I want to focus on and pick from the tasks above to reprioritize.

—

I grinded flashcards so much this month that I barely read or watched stuff, so I want to swing the other direction and do a LOT of immersing next month and very little structured flashcard study.

[marinaaniseed]

Dark ‘n’ Stormy: Pt. 2

We have a title.

A/N: No full-on fucking, but plenty of smut. Honestly, I would NOT show this to my mother. Half the length of the last one, so I’m getting *slightly* better at being concise. Does contain promiscuity, self-loathing and self-esteem issues. Picks up exactly where Pt.1  left off.

Why were you so bothered by him? You’d done plenty of fucking and sucking during the post-snap years, taking what you wanted and giving nothing of yourself in return. Running away to the next town, the next shitty job when anybody got too close for comfort. You’d loved and you’d lost and you didn’t want to go through that again, ever.

But that feeling in your stomach wasn’t yesterday’s beer.

It was something worse.

It was actual feelings, emotions.

You liked him. Not in a purely platonic way, and not in a purely lustful way. You weren’t sure you had the strength for this but you had to address it, whatever this was, or your employment situation would rapidly become untenable. Just as a wound will fester if it’s left, skirted flirtations and unsaid feelings tend to poison a relationship. Especially when the feelings are one-sided. Time to be brave, be bold. Rip the plaster off quickly before the pain can set in.

You finished lolling on the bed, flinging yesterday’s clothes back on. You’d worry about a change of underwear later. Thor was already in position, fixated by his game, so you moved past him and headed straight to the kitchen. You ripped open the box of frosted strawberry Pop-Tarts, shoving them in the toaster. If Thor was paying any attention to you, he’d probably wonder what you were angry about. You weren’t angry, or at least only angry at your own heart for being a little traitor. You were a tightly wound coil of nervous energy. The toaster couldn’t pop up quick enough. When it finally did, you startled a little. Oh, for fuck’s sake, you thought to yourself. Get a grip, you’re not 12. You threw the sugary snacks onto a plate and began your advance.

Thor finally noticed you when you were around a foot away.

“Good morning, y/n,” he said, removing a hand from the controller to take the plate from you.

The movement of his arm was enough to give you an opening. You slid past his outstretched hand and onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs.

“Wh-what are you doing?” he asked, as you placed the Pop-Tarts on the arm of the settee.

Good question, you thought. If you go for a hat-trick of startling Thor into swift escapes, you’re going to go flying. It was an odd dichotomy thinking about how this gentle giant, who only displayed kindness and shyness to you, could if he wanted, send you hurtling into the next room without breaking a sweat.

“We need to talk,” you said, holding onto the back of the settee, one hand either side of Thor’s head.

“About what?”

“I know you caused that storm on purpose to keep me here last night.”

You tried to meet his gaze but he couldn’t look at you. He was ashamed that you’d caught him so easily.

“I’m not angry, if you want me to stay, you can just ask. What I want to know is this: what is going on? Because it looks like you want to be more than just my friend but then you run away whenever I initiate contact.”

“I…” Thor can’t find any words to say. His cheeks feel hot, they must be the same shade as his cape. He could get out of this situation if he wanted to but apparently, his body doesn’t want him to, so it just stays there, rooted to the cushions he wishes would swallow him whole. Over a thousand years old and he’s completely flummoxed by a Midgardian woman sitting on his lap.

“I don’t think you’d want me,” he eventually forces out.

“What makes you say that?”

His only response is a vague gesture, controller still in hand, to his stomach.

“I’m not going to beat about the bush unless that’s what you’re into,” you say with a smirk. “You’re hot and I want to make out with you. But if that’s not what you want, that’s fine.”

Thor finally looks up at you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone look so confused. It’s like your words have short-circuited his brain. He’s just frozen, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.

This was not the reaction you’d hoped for. It’s neither a yes nor a no. You decide to try a different approach.

Your hands move down to the hem of your top, pulling it up and over your head before you discard it on the rug at Thor’s feet.

“You don’t have to do this, y/n,” he says, trying to look anywhere but at your breasts. He knows he won’t be able to contain his arousal and you’re practically sat on top of it already.

“I know I don’t. I’m doing it because I want to. I want you to look, I want you to feel me.” Your hands return to their grip on the back of the settee. You lean forward, arching your back so that the end of his braided beard is tickling your skin just above the edge of your bra cups.

Thor lets out a small, frustrated noise. You’re making this hard for him, in more ways than one. Yes, he wants to look at you, to feel you, to kiss you. But the fear is there, that despite what you’ve said, you’ll somehow find him lacking. It takes all of his strength to squash that thought and turn his face to you. Or more accurately, to your cleavage.

His nose settles between your breasts. He closes his eyes and settles there. You’re warm and welcoming, he can hear your heart hammering away as hard as his own. You smell faintly of oakwood absolute from the bath yesterday and he inhales deeply, trying to calm himself. You loop a hand into his hair, trying to encourage him to keep going. He finally lets go of the controller and moves his hands to your hips to steady you.

Thor explores gently, at first, pressing tickly kisses to your chest, inching slowly up to your collarbone. At the hollow of your neck is where his kisses become fiercer. His hands move to your back, pulling him to him, and he nips and sucks insistently at your neck. He takes your gasps and moans as approval, biting hard on both sides before moving up to your ears. His hot breath makes you gasp his name and sends a shiver down your spine. You can feel the hairs on your bare arms standing on end. You bring the hand not in his hair to cup his chin, guiding him towards your lips.

His facial hair is scratchy and a little tickly, but you don’t care. You’re glad to finally be making that connection. His lips are soft, pink and plump, like marshmallows, and just as sweet. Your tongue tests the seam of his lips and he lets you in, taking you deeply. It’s been a long time since you experienced a kiss like this, potent with passion from both sides. Thor is running his hands along your back, pressing you into him with a sense of urgency. Your hands are wandering, caressing his cheek and pulling his hair. He returns the favour, lacing his fingers through your locks, pressing you into him. The kisses are getting sloppy and you don’t care. Thor unclips your bra with surprising deftness.

You pull away from him and shrug the straps off, exposing yourself to him. The t-shirt bra, worn for comfort rather than seduction joins your top on the floor.

A rumbling growl escapes his lips as he takes you in. He knows he should feel a bit ashamed of the state he’s left your neck, the deep damson red mottling your skin like a series of wine stains. But he can’t feel ashamed, not now. He grabs hold of your thighs and stands up, carrying you like you weigh nothing. The plate of Pop-Tarts crashes to the floor.

You wrap yourself around him as best you can, you know he can support you but it’s instinctual to grip his sides with your thighs, limbs tangling up him like vines climbing up an oak.

He lowers you gently onto the bed and lays down beside you, the tip of his nose touching yours. Neither of you wants to make the first move. You’re making progress and you don’t want to ruin it. Thor, for his part, isn’t sure how to proceed. He wants to take you but he doesn’t want to hurt you. He’s changed since the last time he was intimate with another.

You giggle at him and give him a swift peck, bringing him back to the here and now. Your hand slips down to his crotch and you’re pleased to find him already hard. Pleased and a little concerned. Your quip about men with big feet appears to be true. You run your hand up and down over his jogging bottoms. He gasps in surprise and pulls you to him for another kiss. You increase the pressure on his erection incrementally until he can’t stand it any longer.

“I need to get out of these damn clothes,” he huffed, yanking down the constricting garments and freeing his hard-on.

“Fuck me,” you gasped as you caught a glimpse of it. This was by no means the first cock you’d seen, but it was certainly the biggest. It made sense you reasoned, the rest of him was long and girthy, so why not this bit? You hoped he wasn’t the kind who thought a big dick was all you needed. That’d be a disappointment if he was a thrust-until-he-came guy, without any regard for your needs.

“Well, I mean, I think that’s the plan,” Thor laughed nervously in response.

You decided to match him and shuffled out of your jeans, hoping he hadn’t noticed how damp your knickers already were. Thor slipped off his cardigan but his top remained in place.

“C’mon Thor, let me see you. All of you,” you urged him, reaching for the hem of his top. “If I’m letting you see my thunder thighs, I should be able to see your tummy.”

“Your what? Thunder thighs?” he laughed, deflecting the conversation away from himself. Your thighs look lovely to him, he can’t wait to get between them. The little marks look like fingers of lightning but other than that, he can’t understand the reference to thunder.

“You know, chunky thighs that rub together when you walk. Look at them, they look like hams.”

“They do not. And even if they did, ham is great. It’d just make me want to eat them more.”

“You can’t eat my legs,” you laughed, tugging at his t-shirt.

“Oh? Is that so?” he smirked, diving towards your lap, biting, sucking, kissing all over your thighs. “You said they were thunder thighs. I’m the god of thunder so they’re my thighs now. And I want to eat them.”

“No, no,” you said, pushing his head away. “Not until you’re undressed.”

With a pout and a sigh, he turned around and pulled off his top, letting it drop by the side of the bed. He could see himself in the full-length mirror. He’d forgotten that even existed, having long since let it be buried under layers of dust. The only thing he’d used it for in years was for draping his cape over when he couldn’t be bothered to hang it properly. Apparently, you’d unearthed it and cleaned it up. How had he not noticed that? He supposed he was so used to everything being a mess that he’d tuned it out, didn’t even bother to look in that corner anymore.

You, too, could see him in the mirror. You saw him frown and poke himself in his soft stomach. Standing slowly, you walked in front of him to stand between him and the mirror.

“Thor. I know you don’t like what you see but I do. Let me touch you. Please?”

He grumbled a little but lay back. You still hadn’t run away so you either did find him attractive or were doing this out of pity.

You laid down next to him, stroking his hair. It was much softer than it had been before you washed it. You nuzzled into the side of his neck, nibbling and kissing at him. Not as hard as he’d done it to you, but with enough of a bite to let him know you were there. A long, drawn-out ‘Oh’ spilt from his lips, encouraging you to be rougher. Your hand moved from his hair, stroking his cheek and his neck, before landing on his chest. Spreading your fingers through the hair, you moved close to his nipple but not quite enough to arouse him, yet. He moans as you leave your mark on him, a deep bruise to rival the ones he gave you.

With sloppy kisses and sharp bites, your mouth trailed down to his chest and his pert nipples. Based on his reaction yesterday, you knew he was going to like this. You flicked your tongue over the one nearest to you, while your index finger lazily circled the other.

Thor could barely breathe. Was he dying? Was this Valhalla? He didn’t know, he just didn’t want you to stop. He hoped his breathy moans and guttural groans were letting you know just how much he was enjoying it.

The tongue on his nipple was replaced by your lips sucking, the finger circles intensifying when you changed from the pad of your finger to the tip of your nail. Just as he was beginning to get himself under control, you kicked it up a notch again. You bit his nipple just hard enough to send a jolt of pleasure and pain through him, your fingers tweaking and twisting the other.

Were all Midgardian women like this? If they were, he’d been missing out. No. Wait. Jane hadn’t been like this. He was so lost in the feel of your mouth on him, he didn’t even mind when your fingers danced away and landed on his stomach.

Your mouth soon followed, kissing all over. He hadn’t realised how sensitive his stomach was now and how good it felt as you worshipped him. He even managed to laugh as your nose dipped into his navel. You took him in hand so you could continue kissing down his soft underbelly.

Thor could barely contain himself. He could feel your hot breath against his cock as your lips pressed down everywhere but there. This was the most delightful torture, he wanted to be inside you so badly but he wasn’t going to force you to do anything. You clearly knew what you were doing and had made it your personal mission to tease him until he could no longer focus on anything else.

He parted his thighs a little as your hungry mouth travelled further down his body. One hand remained rubbing his cock, while with the other you began raking your nails down his inner thigh. Oh Norns, if he’d thought the rest of him was sensitive to your touch, he inner thigh surpassed it all. He tried to tell you that it was too much, that he couldn’t hold on, but then you started sucking a deep love bite on his thigh and that was it.

His legs trembled violently beneath you and you heard him gasping curses. You realised too late what you’d set in motion and looked up in time to see him coating his rounded tummy with cum. He was certainly a sight to behold, sticky, sweaty and smiling, covered in the marks of your affection.

You sat back and licked him off your fingers. Warm, salty, and satisfyingly savoury. Like liquid umami, it had you wanting another taste. For a moment you toyed with this idea of licking him clean, before concluding that might perturb him.

The smile soon turned to a frown, his brow furrowed as he realised quite what had happened.

“Oh Norns, I’m so sorry y/n. I’m not normally like that, you have my word. What you were doing felt so good and it’s been so long and I just couldn’t stop and…”

“Shh, shh. It’s alright,” you tried to reassure him, seeing the panic, the disappointment, in his eyes.

“But I’ve let you down…”

“No, no you haven’t. I’m pleased to have had that effect on you. We’ve got plenty of time to explore each other. For now, you look like you need a cuddle.” You moved to sit with your back to the headboard. “C’mere. Please?” You patted the bed next to you.

Thor hauled himself onto his elbows and shuffled up to you, trying not to get his spunk on the bedding. He felt ridiculous, covered in his own seed, traitorous cock resting limply against his thigh. But you’re right. He needs a cuddle. Wants a cuddle. So he rests his head on your chest and lets you wrap your arms around him. At some point, he’ll let you use him as a cushion but he’s feeling a little broken and like he’s failed you. It’s like being a teenager again and having no control over himself.

“May I ask you something?” you said, as you ran your hand down his still muscular bicep.

“Certainly.”

“How long has it been?”

“A long time. Before the snap, before Asgard fell,” he replied with a sigh. “I was too busy, trying to fight, to protect. Not that it mattered.”

“It mattered, of course it did.”

“And then since the snap, nobody’s wanted me.”

“Nobody wanted you or nobody was allowed to get close?”

“Both, I suppose. I could’ve demanded, as their king, that somebody lay with me but that’s not right. You shouldn’t force people into doing things because they think it’s their duty. I might only have one real eye, but I’m not blind. I see how people look at me. They don’t see any of the good things I’ve done. They just see a fat, stupid drunk. A joke who can’t run a bath let alone a kingdom. A failure who should’ve gone for the head.”

His voice is cracking and the tears are falling onto your breast.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok,” you try to soothe. “I know how it feels to hate yourself. I know your brain is telling you otherwise but that’s not all people think of you. It’s not what I think of you. People’s memories aren’t so short that they forget everything else you’ve done. One mistake - and it was a mistake, how were you supposed to know? - doesn’t erase everything else. You’ve done more good since you became an Avenger than most people could manage in a hundred lifetimes. I like you. Nothing I’ve seen so far has made me think anything less of you.”

“But I’m not the man I used to be,” he sniffled.

“Thor, none of us are who we used to be. That’s how we grow as people. After everything that’s happened, I’d be concerned if you hadn’t changed a bit.”

“But you know what I used to be like.”

“Only in the sense that I knew what you looked like in news footage. I didn’t know you. But I’d like to.”

You pulled him closer to you, rubbing his arm, hoping that you’re making some small dent in just how crap he feels.

“Thank you,” he mumbled after a while.

“For what?”

“For how you treated me. I’ve been so scared and ashamed to touch myself since...everything. But I really enjoyed that.”

I could tell, you thought, but had enough not common sense not to say it.

“I understand. When my depression is at its worst, I don’t have any desire to be intimate. By myself or with anyone. And if it does somehow happen, it’s just going through the motions. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean just that. My whole body, how you took the time to lavish attention everywhere. Nobody’s done that before. Not even when I was attractive.”

“You’re attractive now. Honestly. I wouldn’t be here, naked on your bed if I wasn’t attracted to you.”

“Well, no. I guess not,” he admitted.

“And I’ll just have to keep smothering you with kisses until you believe me. Besides,” you added with a grin, “aren’t us mortals supposed to worship gods like you?”

This makes him laugh. A full, booming belly laugh that makes him jiggle all over.

“I think we should get you cleaned up and see if I can give you some more adoration, I think I missed some bits.”

That’s the best idea Thor’s heard in a long time.

@morganhoran1671 As promised, here it is.

[starlling-writes]

Bewitching Monsters - Orc (Valzok) Part 4

Series Rating: 18+ Chapter Contains: minor swearing, drinking, masturbation Pairing: f/m BeMo Masterlist   ☆  Writing Masterlist

My next interaction with Valzok was, in a word, tenuous.

I didn’t see him again until a week after Brumalis. It was almost midday when a knock summoned me to the door.

“Sweet day, Witch,” beamed Aero. “You have a letter.”

“Goodie.” I opened a small jewelry box by the entrance where I kept a few coins and tossed one at him. I instantly tore open the letter, leaning against the doorframe despite the encroaching chill. My oversized sweater was spelled to keep me warm—it was one of the few selfish enchantments I allowed myself. “It’s an invite. Some vampire thing.”

“Going to be leaving me?” he pretended to pout.

I rolled my eyes. “Not soon enough.”

He placed his hand to his heart. “You cut so deep.”

“Get out of here already.” I gently pushed him away, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me against him. Even with winter teasing the air, it was springtime in his arms. His hand glided from my wrist to my fingers, then he pressed his lips to the back of my hand. I finally ceded a soft smile.

It wasn’t until he turned and started leaving that I noticed Valzok appearing from the tree line. I waved, he nodded. Behind him he pulled a sled of firewood for me. He side-eyed Aero as they passed.

“Hey stranger,” I greeted. It had been long enough since I last saw him that his handsomeness hit me as strongly as when we first met. Especially when he smiled. I couldn’t stop myself from mirroring the expression if I tried. And oh, I tried. Because he was widowed; and orcs didn’t date again after marriage. He might flirt with me, but he still wore his and his late wife’s rings on a necklace. And no matter how many times I fantasized about bedding him, I had to remind myself I had no chance. “Did you have a nice holiday?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing special.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes, I now noted. I wondered what was bothering him, but didn’t ask—it wasn’t my place. Not that I had a chance to ask. He unstrapped the tarp covering the wood and picked up an armful. I jumped out of the doorway to let him by.

Things were worse than I first thought.

I took a moment to watch him as he mechanically filled the log rack. I did not like this version of Valzok. What was this shadow that loomed over him? I grabbed a few logs from the sled and joined him inside.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“What it is that’s bothering you.”

He hesitated, sparing me a glance, then left to get more logs. I waited inside. Hopefully I didn’t just push him away with my poking—I barely even butted my head in on the matter. Still. The thought that I somehow did something wrong weighed on me.

“Who said something’s bothering me,” he finally answered as he returned.

“You did,” I accused. “With how you’re acting.”

“Watching me that closely?” A smirked tugged at his lips. A bit of his old spark flashed in his eyes.

“Yes.” It was bold of me—perhaps too bold. We were locked in a stare now and all I could think about was kissing him. We were close enough that I could have my lips on his in a heartbeat. I wondered what his lips tasted like—what he tasted like. I wondered how his tusks would feel brushing over my skin. I wondered—

“Excuse me. I’m here to see the witch,” someone called from the open front door.

I sighed and shook my head, mumbling, “Work never ceases.”

“I’ll pile the rest outside,” Valzok said.

“You don’t have to go,” I said, my voice still hushed. I really wanted this nosy customer to just turn around and leave so we could sink back into the moment.

“You have a customer.”

“I can turn them away.”

He seemed to considered it for a second before shaking his head. “Your work is important. I’m glad you’ve found plenty.”

 Mr. Interruption proved to be an even bigger pain in my ass than I first gave him credit. He was one of those customers that was super specific in what he wanted, and then when I would restate what he desired in more concise terms to confirm, he’d correct me and say it all over again. Then as I was working, he kept “reminding” me of what he wanted to make sure I did my job right.

At least the charm he requested was a quick make so I wouldn’t have to deal with him long.

After he left, I flipped my sign to Closed. I had no more energy for other people today. I opened my liquor cabinet and looked over my options. It wasn’t often that I’d start drinking this early—with the intent on getting drunk that is—but some people were just that draining. While drinking wasn’t the healthiest option, alcohol is a disinfectant; so really I was just cleansing myself of any residual negativity Mr. Interruption left behind.

Today felt like a rum day.

I mixed up a drink then went over to my record player. I loved the sound of records on old gramophones; plus, no light grid needed for it. Combine some lofi jazz-hop with a nice drink and it was the perfect mood to unwind.

I swayed along to the music as I cleaned up my home. My work area had become neglected the past few days as I had focused solely on output. That might have also contributed to my unease—the physical chaos was disrupting the energy flow.

By the time I got to the sitting area, the rum had deliciously kicked in. My dancing became more full bodied and sensual, my limbs loose and feet only slightly stumbling. I picked up a couple floor pillows to shake them out. Underneath hid a small black box. You don’t belong on the floor, I thought as I picked it up, discarding the pillows back at my feet. I was three steps up to my loft when I changed my mind. I didn’t want to put it away.

I opened the box, took out the dildo inside, and left the box on the stairs as I returned to the pile of pillows.

It was the orc dildo I ordered shortly after my date with Valzok. I even had it made with custom colors to match his skin tone—not that I’d ever admit that to anyone. I set it down on the table then stripped off my sweater and legging. Now bare, I shuddered and quickly settled into the bed of pillows for warmth. I picked up the dildo and began rubbing it against my sex, while my other hand fondled and squeezed my breast.

“Valzok,” I murmured as I began pleasuring myself. I teased the tip against my entrance, prodding maddeningly as my wetness built. I wanted to feel his mouth on my neck; to feel his tongue leave trails of goosebumps and his teeth test my flesh. A whimper escaped me as I plunged the dildo inside me. With my muscles still tight and the toy not lubed, I only managed a few inches in. I pumped it in and out until the shaft was slick from my juices and could easily slide in me until I was full.

My hand drifted from my breast down between my legs. My clit was aching for attention. I started rubbing it in long circles in time with the thrusts of the dildo. Getting swiftly closer to orgasming, my head fell back.

“Val,” I moaned his name again. If only his power was behind the thrusts. I wanted to feel his hot, hard cock slamming into me. So much better than this silicone replica. My rear rose up as I imagined him gripping my hips, holding me steady to really hit deep.

Fuck, I needed him so badly.

I was almost there. I could feel it swelling up inside me. The pleasure became my sole focus as I crept closer and closer to climaxing. Oh fuck, I cried. Fill me, Valzok. Please. Fill me—a moan shuddered out of me as my orgasm hit. My thighs clenched together as I shivered and squirmed and whimpered.

Damn I needed that.

I let the dildo slowly slide out of me on its own as I sprawled in the pillows catching my breath, muscles completely relaxed. My pelvic muscles still pulsed in the aftershock and I could feel my thundering heart beating in every inch of my body. I was a blissful mess. If only I had a big, handsome orc to snuggle against.

Then the outside world came crashing back in as someone cleared their throat—and it definitely was not Caera.

I opened my eyes and near the doorway stood the man I just fantasized about fucking.

“We should talk,” Valzok said.

— — —

BeMo Masterlist   ☆  Writing Masterlist

Story:  Previous  —  Next

Character Arc: Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  [Here]  Part 5

[alexandremagnus-blog]

1. Give more than you get. Give respect to get respect. 2. Respect yourself. Respect comes first from within. 3. Offer respect. Respect those around you. 4. Maintain your integrity. It's the cornerstone of earned respect. 5. Keep your promises. We don't respect anyone for making a promise, only for keeping it. 6. Add value. The more you focus on adding value for others, the more respect you will get. 7. Learn to spell Respect: Remember basic kindness. Encourage others. Stand firm in your convictions. Play fair and smart. Extend a helping hand. Cause no harm. Think before you speak. 8. Find people doing the right thing. People will respect you for acknowledging them. 9. Avoid the temptation to share everything in your head. No one needs to know everything you're thinking. Get respect by keeping it simple. 10. Be respectful of the feelings of others. They're just as important as yours. 11. Hold to the truth. Express yourself with honesty. 12. Invest in what matters. Place your time and energy with the things that are important to you. 13. Go outside your comfort zone. People respect those who take chances, take risks, and seek challenges. 14. Suspend judgment. Even though people will judge you, do everything you can to avoid making quick judgments about them. 15. Live your values. Don't just talk about your values; let them show in your actions. 16. Be authentic. Live your life on your terms and live it bravely. 17. Express appreciation. The most respected people genuinely express appreciation in terms that are specific and positive. 18. Be honest but tactful. Better to be honest than be impressive. 19. Stay positive. People respect positivity. 20. Fight the good fight on the critical issues. Respect is accorded to those who know which battles are worth engaging in. 21. Be curious. Ask open-ended questions and listen. 22. Go the extra mile. And take others with you. Exceed all expectations. 23. Forge partnerships. Surround yourself with people who have qualities you admire. 24. Know your priorities. Identify the most important things in your life so you can make them top priority. 25. Lean in to your likability. Whatever your position, you can be collegial and kind and connected with those around you. 26. Have a good memory. It's a big deal to people when you ask them about important events in their lives. 27. Delegate as much as possible. Allow others to show off their strength and respect them for it; in turn they will respect you. 28. Be inspiring. The ones who gain the most respect are usually the ones who inspire others to do great things. 29. Always be on time. It shows respect for others. 30. Think ahead. Be mindful of others and help them come with solutions and strategies that work for them. 31. Speak your mind. Strong opinions and lots of ideas gain respect. Just don't be obnoxious about it. 32. Be prepared. Show respect by knowing what to expect with each interaction, meeting, or conversation. 33. Don't be afraid to ask how you can help. Don't shy away from people who are struggling. Even if they decline your offer, they will remember it. 34. Own it. Have strengths without boasting; and own it by sharing it. 35. Play to your strengths. When you do the things you are good at, you earn the respect of others. 36. Acknowledge the dignity of others. This simple attitude is worth everything. 37. Apologize. When you are wrong, simply say you are sorry. 38. Say what you mean and mean what you say. People learn to trust and believe in what you say through your consistency. 39. Share your assets. What skills represent your greatest strengths? How can you share them with others? 40. Trust your gut. Knowing when something doesn't feel right is important. 41. Don't sweat the small stuff. And remember, it is all small stuff. 42. Learn to say no. Respect is cultivated when you can say no and back it up with rational and legitimate reasons. 43. Live by a moral code. Figure out what you stand for and share it with the world in small acts of kindness and integrity. 44. Never miss a deadline. The best form of respect is to get things done well and on time. 45. Respect those who are hard to respect. Behavior is not always worthy of respect, but the person is. 46. Hear different perspectives. Be considerate of other people's viewpoints, and recognize that every opinion is valuable. 47. Be willing to compromise. Work with others to reach a solution is acceptable for everyone. 48. Don't kiss and tell. Sometimes, it's not what you say that matters; it's what you don't say. 49. Pick your battles. Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do to keep the peace. 50. Take the high road. Set high standards for yourself, and do everything you can to meet them every day. 51. Practice authentic listening. When you listen, you show that you care. 52. Never waste anyone's time. Respect the value of other people's time. 53. Take responsibility. Own your actions, personally and professionally, at all times. 54. Dress the part. People make impressions in the few seconds. Dress for respect. 55. Know your triggers. Become mindful of what pushes your buttons and don't allow yourself to get carried away. 56. Excellence matters. Respect comes from setting high standards and working hard every day on meeting them with excellence. 57. Carry a smile. A confident smile is almost never out of place. 58. Trust and be trusted. Behave in a way that generates trust and builds confidence, which in turn gets you respect you deserve. 59. Be a connector. Bring people together who will find each other valuable and helpful. 60. Maintain equanimity. Keep it simple and remain true to who you are. 61. Watch your body language. Make sure it is congruent with the words you are speaking. 62. Mind your manners. Good manners open many doors. 63. Make time. We respect people who make time from their busy schedule to show us they care. 64. Remember feelings matter. Be mindful of other people's feelings--it may mean everything to them. 65. Learn from others. Acknowledge how much you don't know. 66. Don't try to be all things to all people. Sometimes we get caught up in pleasing everyone and we end up pleasing no one. 67. Treat others as you'd want to be treated. It's called the golden rule for a reason. 68. Listen to learn. Give people a chance to speak. Be a listen-to-it-all, not a know-it-all. 69. Know your boundaries. Set them clearly and stick to them. 70. Keep it simple. Take what is complicated and make it simple. 71. Capitalize on feedback. When given well, it motivates and inspires. 72. Devote time each day to reading. The more you know, the more you can do. 73. Generously share your connections. The benefits return to you greatly. 74. Never gossip. As the saying goes, great people talk about ideas, average people talk about things, and small people talk about other people. 75. Get to know others. Developing close relationships, working to know more about others, shows that you're worthy of respect. 76. Remember people's names. And give them a reason to remember yours. 77. Be inquisitive. The more that you ask, the more you can learn. 78. Choose carefully whom you spend your time with. Do they elevate and challenge you? 79. Honor humility. True respect comes from the humility of knowing that every person you meet can teach you something. 80. Avoid contradictions. Remember that whatever you say, you must do also. 81. Be stubborn when it matters. People respect those who stick to their guns when it's called for. 82. Be fluent and firm. If you can be expressive, concise, and firm in what you say, it leaves no room for misunderstandings. 83. Have a sense of humor. Find the funny side of life; it will serve you well in almost every situation. 84. Focus on quality, not quantity. Make what you do count by giving of yourself to the people or causes that are most important to you. 85. Perform small acts of kindness. Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, and a kind word or a listening ear. A small act has the potential to turn a life around. 86. When you say no, mean it. Show respect for yourself and be consistent with everything you say and do. 87. Be a mentor. Find someone you can help and make yourself available to mentor them. 88. Express your love. Respect is one of the most meaningful expressions of love. Express yourself often. 89. Always acknowledge when someone does you a favor. A simple handwritten note or a small token of appreciation can make a big difference. 90. Consistently expand your network. Work on creating an inner circle of people that you resonate with and learn from. 91. Be your own coach. If you wait until you are ready, you will be waiting for the rest of your life. Take risks and earn respect. 92. Don't be a martyr. Don't do anything that does not feel good or sound good; remember, respect is earned by authenticity. 93. Keep the naysayers in your life away from your dreams. You may even want to exclude negative people from your life completely. 94. Identify the yes-sayers in your life and keep them close. Rely on the people who believe in you and are unafraid to tell you the truth. 95. Always say please and thank you. Graciousness and good manners put people at ease. 96. Make a list of the things you can't live with and the things you can't live without. Keep the list focused on the essentials and review it often. 97. Count your blessings. Celebrate accomplishments and be grateful for all that you have. 98. Be who you are behind closed doors. A measure of who you are is exposed when no one is watching. 99. Be fully present each moment. If you stay present completely to the moments as they pass, you live them more richly. When you can gain the respect you deserve, the confidence you need to lead successfully, and the ability to connect well with others, you'll be well on your way to leading a meaningful life.

[davidrusselblr]

How Cloudera Services In Saudi Arabia Are Used To Make The Best Business Decisions During The Crisis Of COVID-19?

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[shapedlikeafriend]

here is my @danganronpasecretsanta gift for @enddeux !!! merry christmas navis !!!! and thank you for helping organize this lovely event !!!!!! i really hope this is to your liking >u<)/

       Fujisaki fidgeted in front of the empty classroom door; or, at least, the classroom door which the message they got claimed would be empty. Of course, there was always the chance they read it wrong, or misinterpreted what it said. "Old building, 1-B classroom, 7AM" was a specific enough description, but it was so quiet and deserted... Their fists clenched tighter the longer they spent frozen before that doorway. It was way too likely they'll just bother a janitor or, goodness forbid, a teacher by barging in. Maybe they should wait. Maybe they should call Ishimaru and apologize for messing up again. Maybe they--

       "Oh, g'mornin', kiddo," said, or more accurately, yawned Oowada, who looked an exhausted mess. "Thank fuck you're here; was startin' to think I came to the wrong place."

       Oowada ruffled Fujisaki's hair, and they giggled. "Good morning, Oowada-kun! I was afraid of the same thing actually, eheh..."

       "So..." His grip slid from their head to their shoulder. He couldn't help but smile when they wrapped their arm around his waist in return. "Any clue what the hell he wants at this hour?"

       "No clue. He was pretty vague about it, which... probably means he's in mom mode again."

       "Shit, man-- this ain't a good time to be nagged at..."

       "You say that every time he does this, Oowada-kun," said Fujisaki, patting his back in mock sympathy.

       "'Cause it's never a good time!"

       The both of them made their way into the classroom, and the first image that jumped at them was Ishimaru. He was crouching near one of the whiteboard's corners, appearing to doodle little caricatures of the three of them in its free space. He was well into giving Oowada the fluffiest pompadour in the world before the sound of the door prompted him to erase it in a panic. "A-Ah, Kyoudai! Fujisaki-kun! You're late!"

       "Sorry, Ishimaru-kun!," said Fujisaki, making their way to one of the frontmost seats in the center of the room. "Heehee, I love how you did my hair...!"

       "Oh! Erm, I'm pleased to hear I could do it justice." Ishimaru's eyes darted to the floor, a sheepish smile unbefitting of a 'big tall authority figure' flashing across his face. Not that he seemed to mind. The others certainly didn't either.

       "Was gonna say somethin' about how this better be worth it, but it already is," said Oowada, smirking and planting his feet on his desk after seating himself.

       Ishimaru cleared his throat. "While I am flattered and thankful, I did not gather us here to discuss my... artistic endeavours."

       "Can we, though?" Oowada folded his arms behind his head. "'Cause the way you were doin' it made it look like you do this often and--"

       "Anyhow!" The squeak of Ishimaru's boots against the floor was almost loud enough to cover the snickering. Almost. "What I did gather us for is an emergency meeting!"

       When Ishimaru next turned around, he was carrying his telescopic pointer (which he literally never left home without), and wore a much more stern expression on his face. "You see, you might not have taken notice of this yourselves, but I have been carefully analyzing your momentum and morale for your activities, curricular and otherwise, and what I've seen has made me concerned."

       The pointer clacked against the left side of the board, which was peppered with concise, technical bullet-points relating to their grades and schedules. "One of the main sticking points that have caught my eye is the decline in your workout sessions. The general downward trend I've noticed in the two of you started when you stopped."

       Fujisaki shrank onto themself, and they could tell Oowada tensed up as well. Ishimaru's eyes softened.

       "Of course, these matters needn't be discussed if it's uncomfortable. However, what we must talk about is what we may do to improve things for you. And I'm not speaking as a Discipline Monitor, I speak as a friend."

       "Is that what ya call it? 'Friend'?" Oowada quipped.

       Ishimaru leaned forward, banging his hands on the table. "Kyoudai, I'm serious!"

       "And I'm not?"

       "I'm very sorry," said Fujisaki, fiddling with their uniform's ribbon. "I didn't mean to... mess up like this..."

       Oowada tilted his head down and sighed. "It's my own damn business what I do or don't do with my time, but... I know this shit always gets to ya, and it's a dick move for me not to do anything about it."

       "No, that's not..." Ishimaru placed his pointer on the desk and made his way over to them, gently kneeling and placing his hands on their shoulders. "I did not call you here to scold you. Your difficult times, whatever they may be, are not a 'mistake' you need to be held accountable for. The only reason behind this direct approach is that I know how... averse to accepting help you can be."

       "Oy, I'm 'averse' 'cause I don't need it. I shouldn't need it. You didn't need to drag everyone out here at this hour for this, Kyoudai."

       "I respect where you're coming from, Kyoudai, but I must disagree. Isolating yourself with your burdens is what led you here, and it can only get worse if nothing changes."

       Oowada snapped his head to meet Ishimaru's eyes. "I don't know what the hell you mean by 'led here' 'cause I'm fuckin' fine,, alright?! I've been fuckin' fine; you're just fussin' over stuff that no one gives a shit about!"

       "You aren't fine. You're screaming again," Ishimaru cautioned, his tone soft, yet firm.

       "I..." Oowada hesitated. "...Ffffuck. Yeah, you're right. I've been... stressed."

       Ishimaru squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, then left him to swallow his pride in the comfort of solitude turning to address Fujisaki. "I assume the same goes for you?"

       "Y-Yeah..." Their hands curled into fists atop their lap. "To be honest... I loved our workouts. They made me feel a lot more accomplished and strong, but... At the same time, I felt like I was so slow... Even when we made our sessions private, just..." They paused to sigh, shrinking further into themself. "Oowada-kun was so, so far ahead, I couldn't stop the thoughts from making me feel small."

       Oowada grunted and shifted to face the both of them. "Dunno if it helps ya any, but..." He sat several moments in silence, as though he were building strength to say what he was thinking. He lurched to the side and slammed his fist into the table, making Fujisaki jump. This seemed to have given him the motivation he needed, and he began talking. "I was feelin' the same thing. Heh... You kept pushing through shit, even though you had the weight of the fuckin' world in your shoulders. Made me real pissed off at myself. Guess not being the strongest person in the room makes my thoughts flare up too."

       Fujisaki shook their head. "But you are stronger than me!"

       "Like hell I am."

       "Everyone, please! It's not a competition," said Ishimaru, trying to take the reins on the situation again. "You have earned the praise and admiration of one another, as well as my own. Surely that means your strengths are at least valid, doesn't it?" They groaned unenthusiastically.

       Ishimaru thrust his hands behind his back and began walking towards the whiteboard again. "Hm. Well, we were able to talk about and isolate the problem, and that is enough to consider solutions. We have made considerable progress."

       Oowada chuffed. "This kind of deep-rooted shit ain't somehing you can solve in a week, bro."

       "Perhaps not!" he exclaimed, brandishing his pointer with great vigour. "However, I have faith that the both of you can begin taking steps forward very soon! You are both resolute and admirable individuals who've accomplished much more than you realize! And I will be here to assist you to the best of my abilities!"

       "...Thank you, Ishimaru-kun... It means so much that you're willing to put so much of yourself into this." Fujisaki felt a smile tug at their tired face.

       "Why would I not? I love you," Ishimaru said all too casually. Which he only noticed after several seconds of flustered silence had already tightened an iron grip on the room. "I-I, ah..." His gaze plummeted towards the floor.

       "I... I love you too, Ishimaru-kun," Fujisaki was barely able to squeak out from behind their hands.

       They both turned their eyes to Oowada, whose grunts were slowly rising to a crescendo. Before anyone could ask what was happening, he slammed his fist against the table again, this time breaking it clean in half. The sound of crackling wood ripped though the room, but was immediately engulfed by his screaming. "I FUCKING LOVE YOU TOO, KYOUDAI!"

       Nobody had time to recover from the shock of what just happened (least of all Oowada himself) before foorsteps from the corridor and the door bursting open put them even more on edge.

       Leaning against the doorway stood a concerned Yukizome, who slowly scanned the room and waited for an explanation that wouldn't come. "Are, uh... you guys okay...?"

       Ishimaru stepped forward while the rest of the group fidgeted in silence. "Yes, Yukizome-sensei! We are, ah-- we are just... that is to say, this is--"

       She held out her hands as if to show she was harmless and flashed a gentle, if not befuddled, smile. "No, no, it's alright; you don't look like you're up to anything bad, so I'll just leave you all to your... business? Heehee!"

       With a quick "please don't break anything else so I can cover for you," she left, leaving the trio all the more red-faced. It felt as if eternities had passed before any of them could unfreeze themselves to speak up.

       "...We probably need to work on our PDA, huh...?" asked Fujisaki, all but curled up into a ball in their seat.

       "Noted," said Ishimaru, marching towards the teacher's desk with all the grace of a bag of bricks. "All in favour of finishing this meeting posthaste to make time to scream in utter agony and embarrassment in the comfort of our rooms, raise your hands."

       Every hand in the room shot up, and the meeting went on, much quicker than Ishimaru had planned to.

       Students gathered in droves after the final bell rang, turning the corridors of the school into a suffocating mess; a cascade of blaring footsteps and rumbling voices that made your brain itch. Luckily enough, if there was one thing Ryouma Hoshi was efficient at, it was slipping between the seams quickly enough that the noise wouldn't drill into his skull, and as it all faded out, the outside never felt fresher. He was never going to get used to a school environment again, he mused.

       A buzzing in his pocket knocked the thoughts out of his mind. He tapped and swiped at his phone, and its notification took him to a message. A picture of Angie and Akamatsu, giving the camera peace signs, their cheeks sprinkled with the odd bit of chocolate or sprinkles. Beneath it, text read "waiting fr uuuuuu 💗💗". Hoshi chuckled.

       He typed a response of his own. "skippin class to eat sweets? naughty naughty," he teased before putting the device away.

       A distant voice perked at his ears. "Excuse me!" Surely, they wouldn't have meant him. He kept walking.

       "Ah, excuse me!" He walked faster.

       "With the adorable kitty hat!"

       ...Damn, it was an adorable kitty hat. Now he had to stop. "Can I help you?"

       A tall schoolmate (if he even was tall. Considering Hoshi's... bias, he might have been "average") with a case of the eyebrows stiffly strode over to him. "Thank you for your time, sir! May I ask if you are Hoshi Ryouma?"

       "Depends on who's asking. No offense." He didn't see a reason to be wary of this guy, even after eyeing him over a couple of times, but it didn't hurt to be careful.

       "Ah, I suppose it is rude of me to ask before introducing myself. My name is Ishimaru Kiyotaka, Super High-School Level Discipline Monitor! It's nice to meet you," he said, punctuating his sentence by extending his hand with the tenacity one would use to slash a sword.

       "Yeah, you got me, kid. I'm Hoshi Ryouma." Or used to be, he completed in his thoughts as he shook Ishimaru's hand. "So, what can I do ya for?"

       Ishimaru bowed. "Please accept my invitation for a tennis match!"

       "What."

       He blinked. "A-Ah, I suppose some context is in order. You see, I've some students under my supervision that are lacking in motivation, and after discussing this matter with them, we came to the conclusion that getting started fresh on a new, unfamiliar activity or two would do them wonders! We decided that one of them could be a sport of some kind. And you are the Super High-School Level Tennis Player, a field in which all of us are deeply inexperienced in! And that is why I come to you with the humble offer for a match! At your leisure, of course."

       Hoshi squinted. "Wait, run that by me again. You want to get started with tennis."

       "Yes, sir."

       "And you want one of your first matches..."

       "The first, if that can be helped!"

       "...to be with me."

       "Yes, sir."

       He smacked his lips. "Any reason why, or...?"

       "You see, I thought getting them started with an uphill battle would be an efficient way to simultaneously humble and inspire us! Two birds with one stone, as they say!" The hearty chuckle that erupted from Ishimaru just then made it seem that he believed there was a universe in which this was a good idea.

       Hoshi stifled a sigh. "You're a strange guy... But you got moxie. And you're earnest, too. I respect that."

       "Thank you Hoshi-kun! My motto in life is 'Simplicity and Fortitude', after all!" Ishimaru beamed, teeming with pride.

       "But you still got a long ways to go."

       Hoshi left Ishimaru blinking in confusion and turned away, reaching for his breast pocket to grab a candy cigarette. He spent several seconds fiddling with it with his tongue before he spoke up again. "It's really reckless to approach a killer like me so casually."

       He made it a point not to look at Ishimaru. He kept his eyes on the horizon, trying to allow the sight of blues stained by reds and yellows to distract himself from this awful conversation he had to have with every person that so much as looked in his general direction. But he could still feel the tension in the other's composure. In the way the breath caught in his throat. In the way he muttered as he searched for a response. He should be used to this by now. Why isn't he...?

       "It..." Ishimaru paused to gather his bearings. "It would be uncouth of me to pry for details in whatever it is you're confessing to me. And I do not underestimate the weight it carries-- you don't read as the prankster or lying type to me, after all. However, I feel... inclined to remind you that you are not the only one standing here with stains in your past. And the fact alone that this school trusts you enough to have you on campus should tell you that I should be able to follow suit with a clear conscience. Even if it weren't, your being here alone is a step forward!"

       Hoshi faced him again, brows quirked in curiosity. "You sound like you speak from experience."

       "My lips are a tomb, but I will confess you might be right," he said, placing his hands on his hips.

       "Hm. Well." Hoshi started, but the look in Ishimaru's eyes gave him pause. He was about to brush this entire ordeal off cold turkey, but... he could still feel his enthusiasm shining through his bright red glare, even in spite of the solemn mist that shrouded it. It was the kind of aura that would have surged energy through his body in an instant in a past life. "I'll be busy for a tick, but how's about I keep you updated?" Saying no proved to be too tall an order.

       Ishimaru gasped and bowed again, moving so sharply he nearly slammed his head into Hoshi's. "Thank you very much, Hoshi-kun! We will be in your debt!"

       "Hey, hey, take it easy, alright? I haven't done anything yet," he said, biting the inside of his cheek.

       They exchanged basic social media information and parted ways, as Ishimaru seemed antsy to attend to some non-specific business. Hoshi picked up the pace himself, taking too long for his liking to notice he was leaving the girls waiting. He shifted his saunter into a light jog, legitimately looking forward to talking about this with them. He wondered how Akamatsu was going to feel about this.

       "Hoshi-kun, what do you mean?!"

       So, not well, then.

       "Exactly what I said," said Hoshi, who was tending to the yipping mess Angie had become from eating ice cream too fast. "You know I don't do tennis anymore, Akamatsu."

       "Yeah, you say that, but just... You can't let an opportunity that sits on your lap like this just...! Slip!" She crossed her arms and pouted very aggressively at him. He loved it when she did that.

       "I don't know where you see an 'opportunity' here. I got invited to something I didn't want to do, and I declined. That's all."

       "'Didn't want to do'. You... Have you seen the nice, soft smile on your face when you gush about tennis stuff?!" she exclaimed, not failing to notice how he seemed to sputter at her comment. "Angie-san, help me ooooout..."

       Angie jerked backwards, as though she had been jolted awake at the mention of her name. One of her arms drifted to her side, the tip of her index finger squeezing her thumb and seeming to glide in place in sheer concentration, and the other arm lunged at the table and shoveled another spoonful of bubblegum ice cream into her mouth. "Welp welp, God told Angie that yyyyyayayayaya!" She clutched at her temples and crouched back down.

       Hoshi scooted over to pat her back again. "...Now to be fair, that's a good point."

       "Hoshi-kun, this is serious! You butt!" Akamatsu rolled up a stray pamphlet into a cone and bapped Hoshi upside the head with it. She had to try really hard not to giggle. And as soon as the others did, the attempt crumbled immediately.

       He groaned as he shuffled back into his own seat. "Look, this isn't the first time I've done stuff like this. I'm trying really hard to see it from your angle, but you're gonna have to help me here."

       "Because," Akamatsu started, making impassioned, wild gestures, "some nice kid went after you and begged for a match, which is exactly the kind of thing that melts your heart, but you're still being too stubborn to just give in!"

       "I... don't know about my heart melting," Hoshi lied. "But you have to listen. I'm done with tennis. It's not me anymore."

       "You can't! Just drop! Something you spent all of your passion and sweat into for years like that! That's not how it works!" she scolded, poking his sides to punctuate each dramatic pause and knowing full well how ticklish he was.

       "Nyahaha-- Kaede's right, Ryouma!" Yonaga joined in on the poking. "'Cause, like, if you don't get the love God gives you out of your system eventually, it overwhelms you so much, you explode!"

       "Angie-san, I don't think--"

       "Lovesplooooosionnnnnn!"

       "...Nevermind; that's cute enough that I can let go."

       "Yaaaaay!"

       Hoshi gently grasped both their wrists, getting sick of stifling laughter. "Look," he said, jumping a bit when their immediate reaction was to hold his hands. "It's in the past. You're the ones who keep telling me I have to move on, yeah? So I am."

       Akamatsu sighed. "That's not the way to do it, Hoshi-kun. This isn't healthy. I'm not kidding."

       "Not a lot about me is, now is it?"

       "No, it isn't, and that's a problem! Look, just..." Yonaga's humming disrupted her train of thought. "Are you--"

       She shushed Akamatsu, which she rarely ever did, and kept at it with her eyes closed. Hoshi sighed, relieved that he could have a break from all the fierce pushing from both sides.

       But that relief wouldn't last.

       "You should train the both of us! God said so!"

       "Yonaga, are you sure that's not just the brainfreeze talking?" Hoshi asked, absolutely perplexed.

       "Nnnnnopenopenope! See, God is so serious about this, They're making Angie's head thump and burn!"

       "That's definitely the brainfreeze, Angie-san..."

       Yonaga put her hands over the other's faces. "Nonono, listen, this is super smart and divine! 'Cause like, Taka is with Chihiro and Mondo right now anyway, riiight?"

       "...You lost me, Yonaga," Hoshi replied as he gently lifted her palm off his mouth, which only made her press harder.

       "You're following him! Didn't you see his post?" Hoshi just gawked at her quizzically until she continued. "Yeesh, one sec!" She snatched her phone out of her purse, fiddled with it for a bit, then turned its screen towards him.

       In it was a photo post; Ishimaru and another short kid were joined at the hip in matching tennis uniforms, arms wrapped around one another. A flurry of happy emojis were sprinkled all about the picture. And beside it, the caption read "HARD AT WORK L O L!!!!!!! AWAITING hoshir3 S RESPONSE TO OUR CHALLENGE". Hoshi was about to say something, probably along the lines of a heartfelt, genuine "what", but as he inspected further, the comment section was a far more concerning monster. Four comments from someone who was clearly Kaito Momota, all posted seconds apart from one another. "WAIT HOLY SHIUT?????????", "is he playing", "hoshir3 aRE YOU PLAYIGN??????????????????????", and, insightfully, "IUSDGHFIUSDHGIOSDJGIS".

       "Oh, good grief," he groaned, pulling his hat over his eyes.

       "Right?!" Yonaga exclaimed, not seeming to quite understand Hoshi's vibe.

       Akamatsu took a gander of her own. "How do you know these guys?"

       "Oh, Angie knows everyone! That's how you spread the word and stuffs!" She put her phone away. "So anyhoo, their thing is a group thing! And if our thing is a group thing too, it'll give more people the chance to do... like, things! And if Ryouma's coaching instead of pitching, then he can warm up to it from a safe distance with two cute girls he loves and adores and would do anything for and--"

       "I'm not buying you another ice cream, Yonaga."

       "But God is so thirsty, Ryoumaaaaaaa!" She wrapped him in a grim, grievous hug.

       "And ice cream makes you more thirsty, and it hurts your head. Please spare God," he chided, resigning to his fate.

       "Wait, she makes a good point," said Akamatsu, speaking up after being lost in the highways of her mind for quite a while.

       "See, Kaede gets it; if we don't feed God, They're gonna get really angry and wreck our houses with rocks!"

       "N-No, not that." Akamatsu clasped her hands together. "Hoshi-kun, if you're just watching us over while we learn and giving input here and there, it would just be a hangout like this one, right? And then you can see if you feel like playing with us! And either way, we'd rep you and kick some tail in your name! Doesn't that sound cool?"

       He closed his eyes. "Do either of you know... the first thing about tennis...?"

       Yonaga and Akamatsu traded looks, in silence.

       "...Okay. Have either of you ever cared about tennis before right this second."

       The silence somehow got louder.

       "...And if we do this at all, can you be sure the sudden physical exhertion on the art club over here won't just kill you instantly."

       "Well, if we do die, we could always play tennis with God instead! They told me They use stars as Their tennis balls," Angie chirped.

       He leaned back on his seat, resting his hands in his pockets. "Heh, wow. This is the stupidest idea."

       Akamatsu clicked her tongue. "Hoshi-kun, please... We're trying to help you. We care about you a lot, and--"

       "Didn't say I wasn't gonna do it."

       It took a second for the penny to drop. "Wait, really?!" Akamatsu asked, the sparkle in her eye practically lighting up the entire room.

       "Hey, since you're pushing for it this hard... Let's get stupid."

       "Yaaaay for stupid!!!!" Hoshi didn't have time to think before his entire body was swallowed by the girls' embrace. Not that he would ever complain.

       But he would complain about buying Angie that other ice cream after all.

       Ishimaru impatiently bounced his legs. He looked at his wristwatch. 7:13PM. This was excruciating. The tennis court and equipment he went out of his way to reserve was just sitting there, mocking him with how idle it all was. It had been so much trouble carrying all of it here by his lonesome, and now he got to watch it gather dust. 7:13PM. Perhaps he should have put a bit more emphasis on how absolutely important today's practice was. He was sure he already sounded plenty urgent, what with the five seperate reminders he had sent his partners. 7:13PM. Next time, he would erect a banner, with bold red text yelling at them to, for the love of everything righteous and holy on this Earth, move your legs at a reasonable pace. But all things considered, that might not work either. 7:13--

       "Ishimaru-kun, we've been here for five minutes..." Fujisaki muttered, without looking away from their computer.

       "Five minutes we could have spent practicing, Fujisaki-kun! Every moment from this point on is a precious opportunity for us to grow stronger, and it's foolish to allow it to go to waste!" he replied, crossing his arms in frustration.

       They clacked away at their keyboard for a while before responding. "I mean... I get that, but personally I appreciate this extra time we're getting, eheheh..."

       His brows shot up. "What are you up to anyway? It sounds like you are hard at work!"

       "Ah, well, I'm..." They covered their mouth with a hand. "Actually, on second thought; Alter Ego, why don't you tell him?"

       "Oh, yes, Master!" a voice peeped from their monitor. "We are currently in the process of compiling sabermetric data en masse on the top tennis players in the world to parse the most effective techniques and play styles! Then Master can study and emulate them!"

       "Ah, I understand!" He didn't understand. "That is very impressive, Fujisaki-kun! And, ah, Alter Ego! You two are doing fantastic work, as usual."

       Fujisaki giggled, gently butting their head against Ishimaru's arm. "Thank you so much! We're doing our best for you!"

       He awkwardly leaned his head against theirs. They were right-- he really did need to work on this. "And that is more than enough! I am so very proud of you!"

       Both students took a moment to enjoy each other's company and wamrth in silence. Ishimaru's worries about the time were all but whisked away by Fujisaki's radiant smile and sugary words. He slowly allowed his posture to relax and his body's weight to drift into theirs as they did the same. He could hear their hearts beating in sync. Something about that put a smile on his face he couldn't wipe away.

       "Ah, Master, you wouldn't be able to render your opponents catatonic, would you? Or... turn into a demon...?"

       They both shot up in confusion, stammering unintelligibly and making vague gestures at the computer.

       "Uh... You guys alright?" asked Oowada, who they hadn't noticed had arrived a few moments ago.

       "KYOUDAI, THIS TENNIS PLAYER CAN TURN INTO A DEMON?!"

       "WHAT THE FUCK."

       Fujisaki snapped the device towards Oowada. "NO SERIOUSLY, LOOK!"

       The three of them sat together, yelling progressively louder at the ridiculous athletes Alter Ego was coming across. They had nearly forgotten what they came here to do in the first place until Ishimaru's phone hummed in his pocket, well into their riffing of the 'multiplying tennis balls' match. A message from Hoshi! "hey. uh i dont think im gonna be able to play for a bit but i can send my pupils over for a match whenever. that ok w you?" Attatched was a picture of said pupils, captioned with their names. Ishimaru's eyes widened. After hastily accepting Hoshi's offer, he lurched up.

       "I'm sorry to cut this short, but we have training to do!" He marched towards his equipment, drilling through a sea of dissappointed groans. "We must impress Hoshi-kun with our performance!"

       Oowada paused. "'Hoshi'... Wait, the guy you at-ed for a match was Killer Tennis?! Get the fuck out of here..."

       After doing some research, Fujisaki joined in on Oowada's daze. "H-He's... too good...! This is going to go so bad... Uuu, if I had known that empty account you were tagging was his, I would have said something..."

       "Everyone, please," said Ishimaru, making his way to the tennis ball machines. "I would like to not waste anymore time, so explanations will come at our first break, but it's not at it seems. I have confidence that things will turn out alright! You can trust me!"

       Oowada sighed. "Not like we coulda stopped you, I guess..." He dropped the sports bag slung around his shoulder to the ground, and from it, he took a rough, but embellished looking tennis racket. It was made entirely of wood and had no grip, with its shaft being packed with tiny, bold text instead; the same text that was printed into his jacket. Its bottom curved outward into a sleek diamond shape, rimmed by a small indented ring shape. And its nylon strings were decorated by a minimalistic orange komainu print, but it had enough detail that you could make out the dimples around its eyebrows, and the curl in its hair.

       "Oowada-kun, your racket looks so cool!" said Fujisaki, with their own store-bought racket in hand.

       He smirked. "Thanks. Thought if I was gonna do this, might as well get into it, y'know? Been a while since I practiced my carpentry or whatever too, and I got an urge... I know Kyoudai is gonna give me shit for skippin' class to make this, but..."

       Ishimaru rushed over to place a hand on his shoulder. "I intend to do no such thing! Your craftsmanship is remarkable, and your efforts must be commended! Why, I can already see improvements in your technique!"

       Fujisaki took his cue and followed suit. "Yeah, really Oowada-kun, this is really, really amazing! Specially since you made this so quick! I think if you made more stuff like this, people would be all over it...!"

       Oowada's grin grew wider, and he pulled the two of them into the tightest hug he had in him. He loosened it a bit after they started gurgling.

       "...so the basic idea is that you want the ball to either bounce twice on the other end, or bounce here," said Hoshi, circling around the outside boundaries of the court, "on your end when it first crosses the net, and you get a point, yeah?"

       Akamatsu raised a hand. He pointed at her. "Shoot."

       "Are we sure we can't do this at school? This place is kind of dirty, and there's people that keep giving looks..." As she said that, she could feel distant figures squatting in the grass turn their heads.

       "They might be practicing at school. Would be kind of awkward to practice next to our rivals, wouldn't it?" He shrugged. "And don't worry about the looks, this is just Diamond Dogs' turf. They owe me a favour, so they won't try anything. I promise you're safe," he finished, giving her a thumbs up.

       Angie twirls about in place. "Angie just asked God, and They said we can trust this place! As long as Ryouma slams anyone who gets ten feet from us into a garbage can!"

       "That doesn't sound too much like trusting to me, but hey, I can do that," he joked, chuckling. "So anyway... The way we try to make that happen in doubles is we keep one person on the back to basically 'go long', and the other is on the front to pull a fast one on the other guys, right? So, remember that and try and get into formation. There's a line in the middle of your field you can use for reference."

       The girls looked at the ground and shuffled about for a bit. Akamatsu placed herself at the very back, while Angie was practically shoving herself into the net.

       "Is that what feels right to you?" he called out. They nodded in response. "Alright. Let's do a little practice then."

       "R-Right now?" Akamatsu stumbled. "We barely know the basics! Aren't we going to just muck it up? Like... Very bad?"

       "Yeah," he replied curtly.

       "I...! Hoshi-kun!" she yelled, frowning at him.

       He slung his racket over his shoulder. "What? It's how I did it too."

       "A vote of confidence would be nice..."

       "Actually, Angie likes this better! See, Ryouma made God really mad, so now They're going to bless Angie with super tennis powers out of spite! Just watch!" Angie furrowed her brows and tightened her stance with a glint in her eye.

       Hoshi started tossing the ball into the air, and Akamatsu, too, steeled herself. "Here goes nothing," she mumbled, aiming her focus on the ball as best she could.

       With a booming thwack, it came soaring straight at her. She bent backwards and swatted at it as forcefully as she could. It nearly tipped her over, and she could feel her wrist crackling as she swung it back. It flew in a flimsy arc back into Hoshi's court, who was quick to shoot it back before it ever touched the ground. Angie dove at the ball, smashing it back with a surprisingly mighty swing, but that left her stumbling. And before either of them had time to do anything, it came back, slashing through the air right in the middle of their field, and ended up slamming into the wobbly chain link fence in the back of the yard.

       "Fifteen-love," he crowed wryly.

       "Angie loves you too!"

       Hoshi groaned and hid under his hat, clearly caught off guard.

       "Would that make it fifteen-all?" Akamatsu teased, placing her hands on her hips.

       He sighed. "...Moving on. Do either of you want to take a guess as to what happened here?"

       "Angie thinks you scored!"

       "Yeah, but why was I able to, Yonaga?"

       "'Cause you're the Super High-School Level Tennis Player, and this is our first time?"

       He pursed his lips. "That's fair. Akamatsu, any takes?"

       "Well... I guess the ball was harder to hit than I thought..."

       "Ooo! Ooo, Angie had that problem too," she said, hopping about as if that was something she should be proud of. The others couldn't help but smile.

       "Well, okay," he said, making his way over to their side. "Let's talk about that. The way you're holding your rackets? It's forcing you to compensate way too much if I aim high. And your swings are way too wide; you'll run out of breath in no time if you keep going like that."

       Hoshi stood beside Akamatsu and gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist, guiding it forward with the tenderness one would have with a glass sculpture. "The sweetspot-- the middle of the strings-- they should be level with your nose. And when you swing..." His other arm folded around her side, and he took a step forward, prompting her to follow. "You swing with your body, and you lean forward. It's easier on you that way."

       His touch lingered for a moment before he stepped away. "Make sense?"

       Akamatsu flashed a playful smile. "I might need you to show me again."

       "Hmph... Let's finish our lessons first, then we can review whatever you like," he said, with a smirk of his own. "Yonaga, did you get that too?"

       "Angie would appreciate getting hugs too, but she got it!"

       "That wasn't..." Hoshi trailed off, and just held her softly, unable to say no. Angie motioned for Akamatsu to join in again from behind his back, and she complied, puzzled and excited.

       He sighed. "...Why."

       "God could tell you needed this and were too scared to ask!"

       Hoshi let out a deep sigh, seeming to look for words to say. "...Geez. Heh, I think you can take credit for that one, Yonaga."

       She giggled. "Angie's just following orders."

       "Well, don't you think it'd make Them happy if you were proud of yourself? I mean, you can hear Their voice, but you're still here, on the same boat as the rest of us. And you say They want us to have a good time here, so..." The girls could feel him shrug.

       Angie froze. Suddenly her embrace grew much tighter. "You're a very sweet guy, Ryouma." She must have needed this too.

       The three of them melted into the embrace for what felt like forever. Hoshi was the one who made to break it, and even then, it sounded as if it was killing him. "We... can pick this back up later."

       When they picked their rackets back up, they felt heavier and lighter, all at the same time.

       "ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR! FEEL YOUR SPIRIT BURN THROUGH VEINS! THE FIRE THAT IGNITES YOUR CORE WILL LIGHT UP YOUR PATH AND LEAD YOU TO A BRIGHT TOMORROW! ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!"

       Gears turned and metal roared. The ground shook as walls shattered all around, and nauseating clouds of dust rose and assaulted their senses. It was a warzone. And yet, broken and battered, they stood.

       "THE BLOOD AND SWEAT YOU SHED WILL BE THE BREADCRUMBS THAT REMIND YOU OF HOW FAR YOU'VE COME! ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!" Ishimaru howled at the top of his lungs as he slammed another tennis ball back from whence it came.

       "Bro, why the fuck does this thing even have this setting?! It's going too fast!" cried Oowada, mid-panting.

       "I requested their best sports training device, and they delivered!" Three more balls crashed against the opposite wall, just missing the machine that shot them. "And I don't intend on resting until we've returned one million fungoes together!"

       Fujisaki picked themself up from the ground. "C-Could... we maybe tone it... tone it down, please...?"

       "Fine! A thousand blows it is! ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!"

       "T-That doesn't help much...!" They yelped as one of them grazed against their side.

       "Come now, this should be no problem! As long as we plant our feet firmly on the ground, no snow, no rain, no tremors and no winds will knock us down! Counting our blessing and holding onto hope will--ah...?!"

       Ishimaru froze as the machine came to a grinding halt, taking all of the stress and noise pollution with it. It felt very strange to be able to hear background noise again. But nonetheless, he was dumbstruck. "What happened...?"

       Oowada stomped his way over to Ishimaru and hammered his hands into his shoulders. "You need to calm the fuck down, dude. Take a second to think 'bout how that's commin' from me."

       Ishimaru cast his eyes to the floor. "I... overdid it again, didn't I?"

       "A lot, yeah." He gave Ishimaru a couple of quick pats. "Now apologize like a man, don't ask me to hit you 'cause that's weird, and we'll be over it, 'kay?"

       "Right... I humbly apologize for causing so much trouble," he said, with a deep bow.

       "Great. Oy, Fujisaki, you cool with him?"

       "A-Apology accepted..." they wheezed, a rumpled heap of sweat and strewn about limbs on the floor.

       "Everything's cool, then! Now sit down, we're taking five."

       The three of them huddled together in silence to recover from the intense physical strain they were put through. All they could hear was each other's heartbeats banging against their chests and the distant cawing of crows greeting the stars that began to twinkle above. None of them would admit out loud, but this had been the best afternoon any of them had had in far too long.

       Oowada, who knew what happened to Ishimaru's head after he made a mistake, decided to break the quiet. "So... Any info on who Killer Tennis is gonna sic at us?"

       Ishimaru's eyes widened as he fought back a stupor that was taking a hold of him. "Ah, that... Not much. I am aware that it will be Angie-kun and Akamatsu-kun of his class. But I know so little about them, let alone their tennis prowess. I don't recall ever seeing either of them attending any sports clubs or festivals..."

       "Maybe they've been training in secret," Fujisaki chimed.

       Ishimaru crossed his arms. "What advantage would there be to a secret tennis player?"

       "I dunno, dude. Element of surprise for shit like this?"

       "Maybe," Fujisaki started while they sat up, "a Tennis Revolution!"

       "A revolution against what? People who are over 4 feet tall?" Oowada snorted. "Not too late to defect to their side, Fujisaki."

       "I-- hey! That's mean," they whined over Oowada's guffawing.

       He pulled them close and ruffled their hair. "Come on, let me have that; it was good!"

       "Fiiiine, just because I love you..." they replied, grinning cheekily.

       Oowada, to spare them of how sticky he was, let them go with a clap on their back. "Love ya too, kiddo."

       They poked their cheek in musing. "Wait, the two of them will play us, right? Is one of us gonna get left out?"

       "Ah! I hadn't thought of that... Astute observation, Fujisaki-kun!" Ishimaru cleared his throat. "Well, seeing as how I was the one who extended him the invitation, I suppose it would be fair that I partake in our first match!"

       Oowada tilted his head. "Eh? I really wanted a piece of 'em, though."

       "Well, surely there will be other opportunities! I think it would be good to impress him in this first outing!"

       Oowada's brows shot up. "...You sayin' I wouldn't impress him? 'Cause, Kyoudai, I was kind of kicking your ass a second ago."

       "Hah! You would make the mistake of thinking that! How innatentive of you, Kyoudai! Perhaps some private lessons are in order."

       The moment the both of them got up, Fujisaki knew where this was going. "Guys..."

       "I'm thinkin' you need that more, Kyoudai. Matter of fact, I could school you myself right the fuck now."

       "Is that a fact."

       "You bet your fuckin' ass it is, bro."

       "Guys, what if I sit out this time...? Problem solved...!"

       "I would be interested in seeing you pull off that miracle, Kyoudai."

       "Why don't you bring it on then. I'm waitin'."

       "Guys, I-I'm dead tired... Can we not do t--okay." They were throwing their shirts on the ground. This was a lost cause. They flopped onto the floor, exasperated.

       The boys walked back into the field, their rackets gripped so tight they were emitting crackles, and they began a savage volley that went on.

       And on.

       And on.

       Even after going back into the school building to get their laptop and a juicebox and coming back, Fujisaki could still feel them grunting while mindlessly pummeling the ball back and forth.

       It was only well into what seemed like hours of passing the time playing with Alter Ego that--

       "WHAT?!"

       "Oh, look at that! You won, Kyoudai."

       "Please explain?!"

       Fujisaki looked over at them, and saw Oowada rubbing his neck while Ishimaru screamed in confusion.

       "You won. Nothing more to it." He shrugged.

       "K-Kyoudai, you clearly let the ball whiz past you! I--" Ishimaru made a series of incomprehensible noises as he held his head.

       Oowada sighed. "...Fine. I just... The face you were makin' during our game... I wanted to see more of it, that's all."

       Ishimaru fell silent, and a deep shade of red crept into his face. Oowada's was not far behind.

       "I... Kyoudai...?"

       They stared at each other for an embarrassing eternity. And, just like that, Oowada took off. "I HAD A THING WITH MY CREW I GOTTA GO."

       "NO PLEASE COME BACK AND EXPLAIN!"

       Fujisaki giggled heartily, and closed their laptop to chase after them.

       Really was the best afternoon in a while.

       When Hoshi came back to the field (with two bottles of water, as he was asked), it took a while to spot where the girls were. He finally spotted them sitting together by the fence.

       "Sorry I took so long, there was this kid--"

       Akamatsu placed a finger over a lips, asking him to quiet down. He turned his gaze to Angie, who he noticed was slumped over Akamatsu's shoulder, with an earbud in one ear, while Akamatsu had the other in hers. He snorted. "It's so weird seeing her sleep," he said, his voice nigh a whisper. "She's so... quiet and still. And unlikely to pester people to pamper her."

       He handed one water bottle to Akamatsu, and she put it aside to pat the ground between her and Yonaga. And so he did.

       "She's never out for long, so I don't think you have to worry. But this is also the most tuckered out I've ever seen her," she said, holding Hoshi's hand in hers.

       "Hmph. We can let her rest. We've been making very good time, I think you earned this, at least." He grabbed a candy cigarette and popped it in his mouth.

       "Don't leave yourself out, teacher," she whispered while nuzzling the top of his head.

       "Come now, all I did was just listen for once... I mean." He paused to lock eyes with her. She already knew what was coming, and she was already enjoying it. Damn it. "...You were right."

       "Yessss!" She pumped her fist in excitement, hilariously taking Yonaga's with her. Hoshi could barely stifle his laughter, moreso when the sleeping girl didn't even stir.

       "No, seriously Akamatsu; I really needed this. This is... the healthiest I've felt in ages. Means the world to me that you'd go through the trouble..."

       "It's not trouble, Hoshi-kun. I think you can tell we're all having a good time here."

       He closed his eyes. "Hm... I guess you're right."

       "Actually..." She paused, clearly mulling something over. "You know what, it should be fine. I think she forgot anyway. Can you take a look in Angie-san's bag?"

       "Oh? Well, alright." He sauntered over to where he remembered it being, and sure enough, there it sat. He looked over at Akamatsu again for confirmation, and after she nodded, he began fiddling through it. It didn't take too long to find a suspicious looking box. "This what we're looking for?" Akamatsu nodded again, and he made his way back.

       "Open it!" Akamatsu's anticipation was nearly bursting through her, and it made Hoshi pretty chuffed by proxy.

       As he lifted the contents from its box, Hoshi's heart skipped a beat. In his hands, he held a glimmering, polished racket, carefully garnished by glitter and beautiful star patterns in blue and yellow against black and orange. It had such a fine finish and it felt wonderful to the touch, top to bottom. It was like no other object had ever felt so comfortable to have in his hands. But what caught his eye most of all was text along its rim that read "Still The Prince, 2011". Hoshi gawked in awe. "I... Akamatsu, what..."

       "Just a little something we worked on together! You agreeing to do this was a huge step forward, and we thought it was worth celebrating, so..." He couldn't see her, but he could tell she was beaming. "Well, Angie-san did most of the work, but she asked me to play something from the room over to inspire her! And the text we came up with together!"

       Hoshi dared not speak, because all of the emotions in his chest threatened to come gushing right out. He simply clutched the racket closer to him.

       "...Hey, hey, Hoshi-kun..." She pulled him close.

       He let out a strained sigh and relented to her touch, sinking into her arms.

       "You're really strong, Hoshi-kun. We're so proud of you."

       At that point, Hoshi couldn't hold it in anymore. A sad smile creased his lips as tears rolled down his cheeks. "Good grief. You're all too good for me."

       "I can say the same about you, silly..." She rubbed his arm supportively.

       "Hrmnghr... Ang' j'st woke up b't she lov's..." Hoshi felt another arm being tenderly draped around him.

       The three of them cuddled together until their felt each other's breath slow. They had never felt this well rested before.

       He didn't want this to be a thing. He really didn't. The last thing he wanted was for this to be a thing. And yet, here he was. On the scheduled day of the tennis game. In front of an audience of hooting and hollering classmates and friends. Hell, there were already chants erupting from both sides of the bleachers. 'Go-Oo-wa-da!' 'An-gie-san!' they cried, back and forth and in complete harmony. "Geez..."

       "It's such a pleasant surprise to see so many people excited for this," said Ishimaru while he stretched at the side of the field.

       Hoshi eyed Momota (who was pushing Saihara to help him) raising an obnoxiously giant banner with 'KICK SOME ASS KAEDE & ANGIE' that flailed in people's faces. He was getting a hefty number of death glares he was all too oblivious to. A red-haired boy and a cohort with long, shaggy hair from the other side were following suit with a sign for Ishimaru. A riot was going to break out in those bleachers in no time. "You could call it that."

       "Precisely! And we are going to deliver a game that will meet and surpass all of their expectations! Isn't that right, everyone?"

       "Angie just wants to have a good time," Angie said, taking lackadaisical licks off of a pineapple popsicle.

       "W-Well... That's a healthy way to go about it...!" Fujisaki filled in for their partner in lieu of his confusion.

       "But! We are going to try our best! Right, Angie-san?" Akamatsu tried to save the mood.

       Yonaga hummed. "Yeah, God's cool with that!" She locked eyes with Hoshi. "...Oh! Oh, and me too, I think! Right?"

       "You got it, Yonaga," he replied, giving her a thumbs up. She flashed a wide grin and swayed on the balls of her feet.

       Oowada strode in. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, but you better give my team a challenge!" He yanked Ishimaru and Fujisaki in his arms. "These two are the hardest motherfuckers in the world, and if you let them just wipe the floor with you, we won't let you hear the end of it," he boasted.

       Akamatsu cocked her head, crossing her arms with a confident sneer on her face. "Oh don't worry, we're more than enough for you guys."

       "God will show you what Their wrath looks like," Angie droned, in what Hoshi sure was an attempt at friendly competitive banter. He was worried, but the boisterous laughter that exploded from Oowada made it clear it went over well.

       "I like your team, dude! They're feisty!"

       "You dont know the half of it, Oowada."

       Fujisaki turned to look at their watch. "Um, I think we're about to start...?"

       "Ah, delightful! Let us pay our respects to one another, and prepare to deliver a spectacle!"

       Everyone exchanged hearty handshakes and wishes for good luck, and Yonaga, Akamatsu, Fujisaki and Ishimaru made their way to the field, while Oowada and Hoshi sat with the rest of the audience.

       Without much cerimony, the game started, and the crowd roared, bursting with applause and whistling with quick escalation.

       And as Hoshi watched on, he was sucked right into it. Each point his team scored nearly sent him into hysterics, leaping and screaming his lungs out. And each loss they suffered felt like a pang in his chest, and he berated himself for not having taught them this or that. He had never cared about a tennis so much. His heart was going a million miles an hour, and it was like he could remember what it felt like. To seize the moment, to look forward to tomorrow, and to live in the moment. It made him feel so warm and light.

       It was nice to have a reason to live.

[trendibyte]

VOICE SEARCH: THE LATEST TACTICS OF OUTSMARTING YOUR ONLINE COMPETITORS

Voice search is shaping how people interact with their devices – iPhones , smartphones, tablets, and computers. Through a speech recognition technology, computers, and search engines receive queries from people orally. The bot then crawls the system or internet for appropriate answers and reads the most suitable response to an inquirer. Sometimes, computer or search engine users receive results in a text-based form. Is this development real? Yes, it’s happening in our current dispensation. Do you know people are no strolling across the street to locate stores near them? All they are doing now is to launch their voice search app,speak to their devices, and wait for the voice assistant to return the appropriate result. If you’re not aware of this latest development, then it’s good you’re getting the fact here. Yea, voice search existence is real. It’s gradually sending text-based search into extinction. As stated in an article titled: The future of voice and personal digital assistants, 50% of all searches are projected to adopt voice searches by 2020.

So, what’s a voice search system? It’s a technological product configured for people to instruct mobile phone or computer to execute various kinds of search operations. Notable technological companies deploying voice assistant into their products include Apple , Microsoft, Amazon,and Google. In the mainstream search engine world, Google is taking the lead. The search engine giant started incorporating search assistant to its engine in 2012. Google search engine major competitors  - Bing and Yahoo are yet to feature voice assistant on their search engine. Google initiative has emanated from the company zeal to enhance users’ experience while increasing its base. As more people are in a hurry to get a thing done, the enthusiasm for faster results per search engine query intensifies. This enthusiasm forms the primary motivation behind such innovation. So if you have a website, how can you optimize your content for Google voice search? The answers are simple, yet requires creative actions. For details, kindly read further. 1. Include short and concise answers in your content:

Google voice search system reward short answers. Only webpages that contain a maximum of 30-words responses are indexed and returned to users. To take advantage of such development, you must provide short and precise answers to people’s queries. 2. Create FAQ pages: It’s quite impossible to have 30-words content on a blog page or site content. Publishing content of such amount of words won’t rank well on a search engine. It’s best to either add 30-words answers to the blog content or use the FAQ section to respond to search engine user queries. Choosing to create a FAQ page is effective. That decision helps you to target user intents effectively. Since search engine users will be needed brief answers first, you can optimize your FAQ pages for voice search ranking. 3. Optimize for Featured Snippets: Getting your content in the search engine featured snippet is like a voice search cheat code. It’s powerful for Google Home and Alexa search result. Featured snippets are usually Google’s selected search results, which tops Google's organic results page. They are placed right below the ads in a box. Snippet sallow search engines to understand the nature of information embedded on each web page better.Also,they are best for providing a quick answer for Google voice searches. If your site meta description has a placement in such a strategic area, you have the tendencies of providing searchers the answers to their queries. 4. Write Content with natural language: Voice searches are more natural than keyword searches. Unlike keywords searches, voice searches take direct users command. In most cases, there is no compression of text. The searchers speak into the phone with a text of an average of 7 words counts. When you write naturally, there is every tendency of having your content optimized for voice searches. This form of writing is usually the best way of writing contents that engage voice searchers. In keywords searches, a searcher may limit the word to one or two keywords to query the database. However, optimizing for voice content can be of as many texts as possible. 5. Embed long-term keyword into the long-form content:

No doubt, voice queries are usually longer than text-based questions. Google voice search often pull the answer from a page. In most cases, the answers are pulled up from webpages with long-tail keyword. To optimize your content for voice search, you must be willing to research longtail keyword people are searching in your niche and then, optimize your contents towards that aspect. That’s not to say you will exclude the other type of keywords from your content. Just ensure longtail keywords are frequently used while crafting content for voice SEO. 6. Beef up your domain Authority: Site with lots of backlinks rank well in Google voice search system. Google frequently lean of website high with domain authority for information. Page authority has its place in Google voice search ranking. However, it’s less relevant when compared to the recognition domain authority has in Google voice search. In recent times, domain with near me has gained influence than the one-word domain. Buying a searchable domain can be a great way of enhancing your site domain authority. When your site domain has a higher power,Google considers it more for ranking. 7. Rank Video in search results: If you’ve taken your time to check Google search latest feature, you will realize that the search engine operator now features Video as one of the results to serve users search intent. That feature symbolizes something. It’s an indication that Video is playing good role in providing information to people. Video has become a big part of Google strategy for answering voice search queries. It marks part of the video relevant to searcher queries. Once an item pertains to users queries, the video aspect becomes highlighted and return to clients. 8. Increase your website speed:

Google voice ranks lighter website higher than heavy ones. The size of your website will determine how Google finds your website and matches it with users intent. If you must earn Google voice ranking price, you must be willing to work on the site loading and response time.There are lots of tools that help check the fastness of your website. There are some reliable ones you can confidently use to assess your site speed performance. It gives you detailed information about the size of your website and how every page is responding to Google queries. Think about this: what are the benefits of implementing those stated strategies? Is there any significant reward for budgeting some funds on such strategies? I understand your curiosity. People around you may not be getting results. However, that shouldn’t form part of your thought.What if they aren't deploying some tactics? What if they are lazy about the entire voice search ranking process? What if those individuals are using the wrong tools for optimization? There are many “what-if” questions surrounding such individuals comments. With your creativity and ability to use an on-site SEO tool,you’re closer to seeing your website ranked on Google search engine front page. So, let’s move quickly to the benefits of optimizing your website for voice search. Truthfully, there are several benefits of preparing your Web contents for voice search ranking. However, it’s good to inform you that only a few of them are genuinely significant.  Below are the best advantages you can derive from optimizing your site for voice search SEO. Time-Saving: As more activity competes for people’s time, various individuals are seeking for the best way to get things done. Search the web for quality information features on their priority list. Voice search is an SEO trend that saves internet users the stress and time of surfing many people to get a two-line explanation. It’s enhancing search engines user experience. So, if you’re optimizing your content for voice SEO, you will also be joining the league of people who are improving user experience on the web. It helps drive traffic: Businesses which implements voice SEO strategies are known for attracting tons of internet traffic to their page every day. When Google voice assistant responds to user queries, it increases the click-through rate of the link providing such an answer. Through this, a multiple numbers of internet users can be landed on a brand website for further information. Outpacing your competitors: Google voice assistant is an excellent competitive advantage. It ensures that entrepreneurs have an edge over competitors. Only a few businesses have jumped on the bandwagon of this SEO type. By optimizing your content for Voice search, you will be legging up competition in your business niche. Voice search optimization is indeed the best way to stand out on the web today. WHO NEEDS VOICE SEARCH OPTIMIZATION ? Almost everyone needs this latest feature. Once you have something to sell online, you’re free to use this great tool. It ensures that people searching for local services finds you quickly. Also, Voice search optimization increase your chances of becoming visible online. Be sure to include it in your next search engine optimization project. FINDING THE BEST KEYWORDS FOR VOICE SEARCH OPTIMIZATION

A lot of creative think goes into finding the best keywords for your voice search optimization. It’s good to evaluate the various semantic differences in queries. You must be conscious of the fact that people type and speak to search engine in different patterns. Imagine a search engine user who intends to search for best graphic designer.  On keyword, the user can input “ best graphic designers” and hit the query button. However, with voice search, “who are the best graphic designers in Canada” can be the best keyword they are searching for. The best way to get best search keywords is to evaluate the kind of questions people might be asking about specific keywords. CONTENT DEVELOPMENT STRATEGIES FOR VOICE SEARCH Three significant forms of content that work perfectly for voice search optimization include : Informational intent: This kind of content entails writing guides and how-tos articles that educate people on how to handle specific process. Billions of people are busy searching for the best information that guides them towards the use of devices and lots of services. Navigational intent: Making your content around NAP (Name, address, and phone numbers), press releases about specific products or your services are beautiful ways of getting your site ready for voice search. Transnational intent: These keywords reflect a strong transnational intent on the part of the searcher.When searchers are making some purchase decision, they can search for information regarding the product or services before making the final buying decision. Read the full article

[laurasfox-originals]

When The Right One Comes Along - Ch. 1 excerpt (Spark & Stone Side Story, Patreon Exclusive) by Laura S. Fox

This is an excerpt from the first chapter of the side story I wrote for Spark & Stone, featuring Michael and Jess. 

Chapter One - Just A Mistake

Michael watched amused as his best friend scurried away with the young man he hoped to seduce. Aidan Spark was sweeter than candy, and Michael was genuinely surprised by Heath’s choice. It smelled like romance in the air, even though Heath would be quick to deny it, as always.

People who knew both of them often asked how come they weren’t together, that close they were. Not at the moment, as each of them was carefully building a reputation in their respective fields, but they were still best friends and would be forever. The right answer to anyone wondering about them was quite simple: where Michael was a compulsive romantic, Heath was a compulsive conqueror and one-night-stander. Therefore, no relationship of the kind could exist between them.

The part about being irremediably in love with the idea of being in love was still valid, but Michael seemed to lose faith in it with each passing day. Good guys seemed hard to find. He was a tiny bit jealous of Heath’s finding. But Aidan Spark was clearly smitten with the fitness guru, even though he seemed in denial over it.

Michael was about to decide who he should ask to dance only for the sake of being the charming host he always was when one of the bouncers walked over to him and informed him that someone looking to get hired as a dancer was interested in talking to him.

That was an odd time for an interview, but Michael ran a nightclub, and the idea of evaluating a new talent sounded like a good break from his usual Saturday routine. Should he have been in a relationship, he would have had a totally different arrangement, but relationships didn’t tend to stick in his case. As much as he desired to be involved with someone, things never appeared to work out for him.

“Send him to the room with the dancing pole,” Michael instructed the bouncer and headed in that direction, as well.

He had managed to educate all the personnel, including the people guarding the door, to have an eye for hot people. At least, the guy he would meet in the dancing pole room would be a looker. And Michael would just let him down gently in case he sucked as a dancer. There were always other openings, like waiter positions.

He had taken his drink with him and sat comfortably in the only armchair in the room. Michael liked lavish interiors, but for the purpose, this room had been left only sparsely appointed.

He caressed the glass rim, musing in expectation. Why had he always been so obsessed about relationships? Time and time again, he had sent plenty of hot guys packing for being too superficial, too interested in having fun only, or way into considering that being gay automatically meant that open relationships were the norm.

Someone knocked politely on the door and waited.

“Come in,” Michael said and stared curiously at the door.

A man walked in, and Michael took in his graceful walk. He didn’t notice, for a moment, the elegant slender body, or the man’s handsome face. His trained eye was quickly drawn to the square shoulders, the sinuous movement of the hips, the somewhat lazy way of putting one foot in front of the other.

If the newcomer wanted a job as a cage dancer, Michael was pretty sure he would get it. That was the way only someone with experience in dancing could have walked. But a test was in order anyway.

“Good evening, Mr. Rivers,” the stranger said in a warm, sexy voice. “I apologize for this impromptu visit and my rather inopportune request. I realize that you would be normally busy doing something else right now.”

Michael watched the visitor with growing interest, as he stepped into the light. His curly brown hair was cut right under his ears, but it managed to look fashionably haphazard and attractive. His face was what some people would have called a classic beauty, with a straight nose and full lips. Michael could not help noticing the bedroom eyes. They seemed green, and Michael would have liked to see them from up close.

“Please, there’s no harm done. You’re not breaking any rule. These are my office hours, so to speak. May I please know your name?”

“Jess Rotham,” the other replied.

“Nice to meet you, Jess.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Rivers.”

“Please call me Michael. Now, could you tell me something about your experience as a dancer?”

“I have been practicing ballet for the last twenty years,” Jess said, without self-importance. “Since I was four.”

Michael quirked an eyebrow. “This place is hardly a venue where such talents would be put to good use.”

“I need the job,” Jess said concisely, even a bit abrupt. “Please,” he added.

Now, Michael felt intrigued. He leaned into his seat and watched Jess closely. His body was a classic sculpture, like his face. In other words, a complete knockout, a bit too muscular to be considered a twink, but without the bulk that would have put him in another category. His physical beauty was unique and Michael, with his trained eye, could tell that Jess would be a hit if he chose to dance there.

Provided that he had the moves, too. Michael wasn’t willing to cut this good-looking man any slack. There were other professions where he could excel even if he had the poise of a monkey. Which Michael doubted, but needed to see if for no other purpose than to enjoy what promised to be an outstanding performance.

“Well, the pole is there. Let me just put some music.”

Michael fiddled with his phone, and after a brief deliberation, he chose something a bit wild. Such a sinewy body should have enough fever in it. Michael wanted a show.

The jungle rhythm broke the silence, and Jess seemed a bit startled at first.

“Honey, you’ll need to dance to impress me,” Michael said and smiled. “I see you have the looks, now show me the moves, too. Ah, and I think you’re a bit overdressed. You won’t be able to grab that pole if you keep your pants on.”

Jess seemed affronted, but only for a moment. Michael wasn’t crass; he was just doing his job. After all, Jess wanted to be a dancer in a nightclub. If he wasn’t comfortable with dancing almost naked in front of a single person, how could he perform in a room full of people?

Without a word, Jess began unbuttoning his pants. His moves were a tiny bit defiant, as he pushed his pants down and then proceeded to take off his shirt, too. Michael shifted a little in his chair.

Dressed in nothing but a pair of tight white underwear that allowed anyone interested to observe quite a nice bulge, Jess stepped close to the pole and grabbed it with one hand.

His arms were perfect, Michael thought. That was just a trick to keep himself from staring too much at Jess’s equally perfect butt. He wasn’t there to ogle a stranger, but to decide whether he was a good dancer or not. Sex appeal was part of the deal, but Michael was against making this interview appear as something sleazy.

Nonetheless, while Jess engaged in some pretty dangerous and acrobatic moves, Michael found it more and more difficult to stop looking mainly at his round and shapely ass.

That wasn’t like him. Maybe he should start dating again. As a general rule, Michael was against hooking up. The idea of meeting someone just for sex was a big turn off for him. It made everything appear too base, too primitive. He preferred to know the people he intended to sleep with, before getting between the sheets with them.

On the other hand, his body could not give a damn about his principles. Jess circled the pole with his muscular legs and arched his back until his head almost touched the floor, presenting the perfect form of his abs and pecs while looking at Michael upside down.

Michael was a bit pissed at his own cock right now. That specific part of his anatomy screamed at him to hire Jess. His brain was conspicuously silent.

Well, he was a businessman, after all. If Jess was capable of giving him a boner so quickly, that meant he would be a fascinating addition to the dancing crew.

The music stopped, and Michael picked his phone only so that he could chill a little before starting to talk to Jess.

“So? What did you think?” Jess asked as soon as he got down.

Michael didn’t look at him. “Please dress up. Then we’ll go to my office for some preliminary formalities.”

“Oh, that’s great.”

Michael could swear Jess was relieved and surprised at the same time. Could it be that someone like him didn’t know what a great dancer he was? He doubted that. Jess hadn’t come across as someone who faked modesty.

Or maybe the blood from his head was in his cock, and he couldn’t judge things correctly. But, in the end, Jess was there to work as a cage dancer, which basically meant to give guys boners and pleasant dreams. Regardless of how he danced, he was clearly meant for that.

Jess followed him without a word. Michael invited him to his office, and soon, they were both alone. Somehow, Michael felt overly conscious of being in the same room with Jess. It was like suddenly, the atmosphere was intimate. What was he thinking? Hot people did that to anyone. It was just slightly uncomfortable.

He pulled a standard contract from one of the drawers and handed it to Jess to sign it. Jess took it and wrote his name at the bottom of the page without reading the document.

“Aren’t you interested in what the paper says?” Michael asked.

“You have a reputation for being an honest employer,” Jess replied.

“I see. Damn, I wish I had you sign that you’d offer me your firstborn,” Michael joked.

Jess didn’t seem eager to cozy up to his new boss by laughing at his bad jokes. Instead, he seemed intense. His eyes were dark green, as Michael could tell now and they appeared a tad tired.

“Would you like to start tonight?” Michael asked.

“Do I get an outfit?” Jess asked.

“Outfit? Your underwear is perfect.”

Jess seemed a bit taken aback. “Will I have to dance in my underwear?”

Michael frowned. “That’s the idea of a cage dancer. Good as naked, capable of sending good vibes ... I’d say you have it all.”

Jess opened his mouth and then pursed his lips. “I thought I would be somewhere, on the sideline. Not inside a cage.”

“With your moves? No way,” Michael said with a small snort. “What seems to be the problem? You just danced in front of me in nothing but your underwear.”

“That was to get the job,” Jess said. “I wouldn’t do something so overtly sexual in front of an audience.”

Michael could feel a headache coming up. “You just auditioned for being a dancer at a nightclub where there are striptease and cage dancing on the menu. You got what it takes. A gorgeous body, sexy moves, and even a handsome face. You have the whole package, and you’re telling me what? That you don’t want the job?”

“I do,” Jess said, somewhat defensively. “But I thought it would be something classier than dancing in nothing but underwear.”

Michael sighed. “It’s all right. If you don’t want the job, after all --”

“No, I need it.”

Michael pondered as he looked at Jess. The intense look in his eyes was still there. If he had his head on his shoulders, he would send this guy away. What was with all the fuss?

“Jess,” he tried to speak in an appeasing manner, “you are uncomfortable with being naked around people. Just drop it. And there are many other jobs you can try. Also, if you’re a ballet dancer --”

“Danseur. That’s the correct term,” Jess interrupted him, but he didn’t seem arrogant. Just concerned, like something was bothering him and making him anxious.

“Fine, danseur. If you’re that, go work somewhere that’s more fitting.”

“I could bring some class to your establishment,” Jess said.

Michael felt a bit insulted now. He never got into a fight with anyone, but this handsome danseur was starting to get on his nerves. “I don’t consider that’s something I need here.”

“I’d say you do,” Jess replied and bore his beautiful eyes into his.

“Are you always this confrontational?” Michael asked, with a deeper sigh this time around.

“I’m not confrontational. I’m just coming up with a new idea.”

“Did I say that I need new ideas?” Michael said, now his irritation growing into full-blown annoyance.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t,” Jess pointed out.

“Do you always get people to do things your way just because you’re hot?” Michael asked.

To his surprise, Jess appeared to blush at that, but not due to embarrassment. He seemed angered.

Now that was something. What did he have to be furious about?

“All right. I don’t think things will work out,” Michael said and stood up.

“No, please. Why don’t you just give it a chance? What’s for you to lose?”

Michael couldn’t quite believe his ears. “Why do you want this job, Jess? You’re not cut for it.”

“I don’t want to be in the spotlight,” Jess said. “I only want to be one of the entertainers. I can do lap dances and whatnot --”

“Lap dances?” Michael realized a bit too late that he was shouting.

“I need the money,” Jess said quietly.

“And you plan to do lap dances? I have a mind to throw you out this very moment, mister!”

“Why? You don’t think I can?”

Michael ground his teeth. He should have known that normal people, exotic dancers or not, didn’t just knock on doors at midnight on a Saturday night, to get hired out of the blue. He had a mind to tell Jess that his club wasn’t that kind of club and that dancers never did lap dances or anything similar.

“Sit here, and I’ll give you a lap dance,” Jess said, and pointed at the chair he had stood on until earlier.”

“No, thanks,” Michael said dryly.

“Why? Are you afraid that I might prove you wrong?” Jess said, this time with defiance.

All right. This little shit was getting on his nerves. It wasn’t like Michael to let people get to him this way, but right now he was itching to take this guy down a notch or two. Ballet for twenty years? For what? Lap dances? Jess had to be out of his mind.

With brusque moves, Michael grabbed the chair and sat on it, crossing his arms. “So?” he challenged the other. “Get to work.”

“Music?”

“I think you can do without. Gentlemen asking for lap dances are more interested in a visual performance.”

And also, not accepted in his nightclub.

Jess shrugged as if that wasn’t important anyway. He approached Michael and suddenly straddled his chair without touching him at all. Michael wanted to tell him that he should be naked for that kind of dance, but since he was allowing, against his better judgment, this guy to make a fool of himself, he needed to keep his mouth shut.

Michael inhaled as Jess moved lasciviously, along his body like a snake, but again, without making contact. That wasn’t such a good idea; Jess’s clean sweat from the earlier exertion smelled heavenly.

Seriously, as Heath would have put it, he needed to get laid.

What the hell was he thinking, anyway? He was in his office, with a current employee - whether he liked it or not - and getting a lap dance. Anyone walking in on him would have said that he totally lost his mind.

Jess continued to move, undulating his body as if there was no bone left in it, looked Michael in the eyes and bit his bottom lip, the gleam in his eyes a promise and provocation.

“Okay. I think you proved your point,” Michael said in a strange voice.

“Are you sure? I don’t think you’re convinced.”

Jess laughed as he moved closer. Michael risked a look to the side, only to see Jess moving that lovely ass like a professional twerker. A sudden itch to smack that ass made him move his eyes away.

“No. I mean it. It’s more than enough,” Michael said again.

“Are you chicken?” Jess laughed again.

“That’s it,” Michael said through his teeth.

He grabbed a handful of curly hair, making Jess gasp in shock. The second time he did that was because Michael used his other hand to slap his ass hard.

Oh, shit, Michael thought as he realized what he had just done. Jess was looking at him with those intense eyes.

So the guy was trouble, after all. Michael dropped his arms and tried to get up, but Jess took him by surprise. He lowered himself in Michael’s lap, so hard that Michael felt his boner crushed under the weight.

Not that he minded. The pressure was amazing, taking the edge off. It was then his turn to gasp as Jess closed his lips over his mouth.

End of excerpt

You can read the entire story on my Patreon.

[survivormontenegro]

Episode 2: “In all seriousness, I think I’m just stupid.” - Mo

Oop, so Madeline went bye bye without hitch. And Mitch lol sort of popped off a bit which turned out rub some people the wrong way.

Well as long as it doesn’t endanger me, it’s ok. Except for the fact that Michael brought up my name to Julia as a potential target just because we haven’t had good talks.

Honestly tho, talking to Michael is hard because he’s like a robot or whatever. He really is a big blue robot or whatever.

Right now, I think I’m in a good spot to not be that worried on Michael. I’ve got an alliance with Jason and Julia. Though we haven’t solidified a duo or whatever, Jared and I are working together as well probably. I’m getting closer with Ali and Benji and I have had talks of watching each other’s back.

So far the potential targets if we lose are Mitch and Noah. I have talks with Mitch and I think he’s sort of a lose cannon but right now he trusts me I think so yeah. People are leaning towards Noah because he talks the least with people.

But I do hope we win immunity, UgH!! I blame Drew for not putting me on a dominating tribe grrrr where’s the monte Rosa winning streak power when you need it.

AHHHHHH BEEEP BOOOP BEEEP BOOP. This twist sucks. There is a power dynamic that is going on.  Julia, Ben , Ali , and I are in an alliance. Seperataly though. I don't think they are aware of how much strategy I talk with Julia (which is how we want it). It seems Ian Jason are the biggest threats since they are liked and have numbers. BUT I CANT TAKE THEM OUT BECAUSE OF THE TWIST AHDHEUEJIDKD. So it seems Mitch is the target but I can't let Ian and Jason stay too long otherwise I am fucked. It's only a matter of time before they realize what I'm doing and I become a target (maybe even next tribal). BEEEEP BOOP BEEP BOOP

So last tribal went super smooth. Madeleine bye girl, but you were a ticking time bomb and you needed to go. And you also threw MY precious name out to Jared. In my first confessional I said I didn't want you here, and I got what I wanted. Now we are on this round. A puzzle challenge for immunity? Seriously? This has me FUCKED up boo. But I don't know weather to worry or not about tribal council. Last round, after I stirred the pot a bunch for the Madeleine vote she had an elaborate plan to get Mitch out that I myself pressured her into doing. I let Mitch know about her plan and at tribal shit got interesting. He blew the fuck up on the girl. And this was beautiful. It put a target on his back. So I might just be in the clear. His name will definitely be brought up just for that. This tribe doesn't like crazy explosive people (lol me in crossroads). But I also have gotten so far on this idol board, I might have the chance to snatch that bitch up. Lets pray everything goes well for me!!!

I realize in hindsight that im coming off as really mean in my confessional, but it was just like,,, in the moment? Yk??? A more concise version - usually when people like JJ fly high and take control early on, people get mad and they crash and burn really quick. So as much as it might break my heart, I might have to let that happen.

Forgot to mention thoughts on relationship statuses atm: Jules says she trusts me Alex says he trusts me Mo says he trusts me JJ says he trusts me Tom is iffy but I feel like we have a stronger relationship? Especially if he’s closer with JJ (which I personally believe he is) he’ll feed him info that’ll go back to me I have a good relationship with evan for the most part ? We talk on and off but we’re both just busy lol Caeleb my grandson/angel and I have a great relationship - we talk about Pokémon a lot Willow and I are iffy but like a fun iffy And David is the most innactive, but we bond over not talking on calls sometimes

So first things first thank GOD we won immunity I was not getting good vibes from people so I think I would been gone. Anyhoot, I definetly feel like there is an alliance already formed between Tom and JJ for sure and then possibly Jones Jules and lets throw in Alex, Those 5 seemed to be so comfortable and non scrambly this past tribal that im SUS. Going into this challenge wowie a math puzzle, not good for me and it showed! I definitely think we are losing now so I really have to push the vote for like Evan maybe because a bitch wants to stay and he's probably more inactive than I. Listen guys I really want to be on more but as Rihanna said I just gotta Work Work Work Work Work Work so that's that on that. I just hope they let this bitch stay!

Okay so let's get INTO this:

I know that my biggest weakness is the fact that I don't do a great job at times of talking to people. Ever since Day 1 though I've been making a solid effort to speak to every single person on my tribe two or three times every day.

So let's start with the first reward challenge. I tried really hard because I wanted to make a good first impression challenge wise. I feel like if you put in a solid performance in the first challenge, your tribe will be more understanding if you struggle in a future challenge.

As soon as I saw the flag part of the first immunity challenge, I knew that we were going to probably lose it no matter what, and there was strategy behind me wanting to take it on. Everyone on my tribe was already hyping up the fact that the other tribe had that part in the bag, so I knew that if I put in a solid effort and lost, it would be seen as "He stepped up for us and tried hard even though he had no shot" rather than "he fucked it up for us". I had to step on Madeleine's toes and kind of be rude to make sure that I got to do the flag, but that didn't really concern me since nobody seemed to like her anyway?

Now when it came to the first vote of the season, pretty much the whole damn tribe told me they wanted to do Madeleine. I think the fact that she really didn't talk to anyone until she NEEDED to is what played a major part in her elimination. Honestly, I didn't really like her at all LMAO, so I didn't mind seeing her go home.

The fact that Madeleine was already basically screwed and confirmed to go home was great bc it gave me the opportunity to take advantage of that situation for myself and build up my trust/credibility with other people. Madeleine came to me just a couple of hours before the voting deadline with her plan to get a group of people to vote against Mitch and send him home. I basically just was like "yasss I agree that's a great plan sis omg you're MIND". I asked for a list of who her 'numbers' were before agreeing to vote with her, and of course with her being desperate, she had no choice but to comply. Sis sent me a whole ass list of her alleged allies, and I was gagged becuase literally all of them had been shit talking her and saying that they were voting her out ALL DAY.

I took that information to Mitch and let him know about her plan, which gained me some brownie points and trust building with him. And then I went to the people she listed and was sort of like "Hey, I just wanted to let you know that she's going around telling people who she thinks you're voting for". Overall, I think that Madeleine's messiness really benefited me and my connections with the tribe.

Following Madi's elimination, if I had to rank my tribemates in terms of who I trust most to least, it would work out like this:

1) Julia 2) Ali 3) Mitch 4) Jason 5) Ben 6) Jared 7) Ian 8) Michael

Julia, Ali, Mitch & Jason interact with me the most. They always respond when I message them to start a conversation, and they aren't shy about hitting me up and initiating conversations. Ben, Jared & Ian won't really initiate conversations with me, but if I message them first they'll always message me back pretty quickly and engage with me. With Madeleine gone, Michel is now the most difficult for me to socialize with. Our conversations tend to die quickly if I don't put in maximum effort, which is kind of annoying, but I'll keep trying because I relaly don't want to end up like Madi and have everyone vote me out because I didn't try with them.

I'm kind of nervous at the moment with this vote just bc nobody is really giving me names yet? I'm hoping that the reason why is that they are waiting for tomorrow morning and just don't want to throw out names too early. I feel a bit like Sandra in the sense that as long as it's not me, I don't care. I'm not sacrificing my game for ANY of these people. That's what I love about these TS orgs; these people aren't my friends and I don't feel bad at all about sending any of them home LOL.

I'm really hoping to form a more formal alliance soon, but I want to be VERY cautious. I'd rather keep it small with just a few people that I trust not to go throwing me under the bus and leaking shit. An ideal situation would be me, Julia, Ali & Mitch as a strong foursome, but I need to talk to them separately as individuals first and try to figure out if any of them are already in group chats/alliances before I try to pull them into a commitment. The last thing I want is to try to form an alliance with people that are already set in other groups.

Anyway, I'm just going to try to continue being super social and hope that it plays out in my favor. BTW this twist is evil and I despite it, but I'm just going to have to work with it and adapt.

tom was really drunk and messaged me all these nice things so i really want to make him my ally now even though he's messy!!!

Well, today we probably lost the competition. Considering I was 4x faster than my maze partner. Willow doesn't know how to do math. David probably hasn't done his competition.

But in the same light, Evan and I did really well in our competitions. So, who knows? I might actually like to lose a competition. It would be interesting to see if people's heads are actually where they say they are.

I’m so upset, I always get fucking challenges in games that I CAN’T do I don’t know how to do it. Then we talk about our scores and Evan was like oh I did it in a minute but I could of done it quicker if I had a mouse and I’m just like I SCORED 16 MINUTES AND IM FINE BECAUSE I DIDN'T SCORE OVER TWENTY MINUTES.

In all seriousness I think I’m just stupid. Like when I was doing the challenge I was confident. I always go in with a “I’m gonna do great!” attitude and then I hear about how well the others did and it’s like getting hit by a car.

I'd also like to give an update on how I feel about everybody in this game.

Alex seems like he's the person I'd like to work with most, but he also seems the most hesitant to commit to any kind of long term alliance. Jules & Jones are really difficult to tell apart, but they're both lovely people. They seem to be super open to working together, and they both compliment me out the butt hole. Tom is really sweet. He seems to be very easily woo'd by attention and compliments, which shouldn't be too difficult. He's like. Super cute and very fun to talk to. Mo is cool, we share a lot of the same sense of humor, lots of the same references. Its also super comforting that he's also on the same timezone as I am. Evan seems really cool. I feel awful about never responding to his messages on time, which could really hurt my game. Caeleb is so fuckin cute. Like he's just a wholesome lil bean, I don't know how he's going to survive in such a cutthroat game like survivor. Maybe that's his strategy, have everyone underestimate him. Maybe he's scary and spooky. ^ Y'all really got me out here talking like a tumblrina.. Anyways, onto Willow. We seem to have the same conversation everyday and it never really goes anywhere. Awkwardddd. For David, whenever he does go on call, he never talks, and it just becomes this awkward silence, he really brings down tribe morale.

https://youtu.be/71NJ9oc-WrI <- Video didn’t embed

Video afterthoughts: According to Alex JJ seems more interested in the idea of a swap happening and is now turning onto the idea of voting David? I’m gonna actually talk to jules about how they feels tho bc they said they trust me and I wanna like,, show the trust in return? I want them to feel good w me as much as I feel good w them

It seems like me and Julia created the vote once again, and AGAIN it is not traced back to us. Michael is under the impression he created the vote (lol) which is good for us, no blood on our hands. The reasoning behind planting Mitch and Michael as targets into people's head was to see how they scrambled so we could flush every alliance. We now know Mitch and Michael are working together. If all goes well it should be unanimous (if we even had to go to tribal).

We didn't go to tribal the first time around so David got to stick around. I have an odd feeling that we didn't win immunity so tonight will be the actual chance to do so. I really do think it'll be him because he's so inactive and I think its best to keep our tribe active and playing rather than scrambling and weak. Plus I have talked to many people about it so it would be a pretty big blindside if it was someone else and I would be left aghast!

JJ is clearly an influencer in the tribe, and I think he likes me and wants to keep me around and I am perfectly fine being a number in his game. At least for the time being, because at this point that's a strong strategy for me. I think I am making real genuine connections that I can profit from, both strategically but also personally because we have some fun people here :).

okay so this is the end, hold your breath and count to ten. i'm going home. i can just sense it, its my time and i can feel it hap-hap-happenin'. the vote is theoretically noah, but everyone is going quiet so i think its me. my takeaways are that i was too wishywashy, and left myself vulnerable due to my poor social game.

in other news, if the vote is noah i will be SHOCKED. i think we will probs swap too, so we will see. I think it wont matter this is the end, I'm going byebye very very soon rippy rip!

https://youtu.be/KdBeFE1iYWg <- Video Confessional from Day 6

https://youtu.be/ZQZ1ktG2lU0 <- Tribal Council #2 Vote

(Both did not embed)

Day Numero 6; Honestly nothing is popping off in this game for me! So hard to type a confessional because i could be highly naive about my position in this game and i could be getting votes tonight but i have not heard any names except for david once again. 

[donaldflower00-blog]

10 Essential Episodes of Anthony Bourdain’s ‘Parts Unknown’

Over the last five years, Anthony Bourdain brought TV viewers to the most interesting places around the world on his award-winning, game-changing CNN show Parts Unknown. And now, following Bourdain’s death last June, the show is sadly coming to a close. The final season of Parts Unknown will wrap up at Bourdain’s old stomping grounds — the Lower East Side of New York City — this Sunday, November 11, in an episode that will explore the people and places that shaped Bourdain as a young adult.

Parts Unknown had a monumental impact on food and travel TV, most notably because it eschewed coverage of tourist attractions, and focused, instead, on artists, thinkers, and doers around the world, with special attention paid to disenfranchised communities and their hopes for the future. Some episodes were intense, others lighthearted, but the show was always essential viewing.

Here’s a look back at 10 episodes that defined the series, in chronological order:

“Peru”

(Season 1, Episode 7; original air date June 2, 2013): Anthony Bourdain and Eric Ripert let their bromance blossom on camera throughout the filming of Parts Unknown, and, tragically, they were actually shooting a new episode together when the Kitchen Confidential author died in France over the summer.

The Peru episode from Season 1 sets the tone for future adventures to come: The friends eat amazing meals while discussing the great mysteries of the human experience, all the while pushing each other outside of their respective comfort zones. In this case, Bourdain brings his gentlemanly pal to an ancient erotica museum, while the chef coaxes his sarcastic friend into participating in a ceremonial blessing from a local shaman. Along the way, the friends eat Amazon-inspired cuisine at Amaz, sizzling beef hearts on the streets of Lima, and a rustic hen soup at a market in the mountains.

Bourdain and Ripert actually have a bit of business to accomplish on this trip: They hike up to the Andes to meet farmers who are harvesting the cocoa that’s used in the duo’s gourmet chocolate bars. The friends are clearly inspired by working with the farmers, but this experience only leads to more questions. “Do I wanna be in the chocolate business?” Bourdain remarks at the end. “That’s something I’m gonna have to figure out.”

“Lyon”

(Season 3, Episode 3; original air date April 27, 2014): While visiting France’s second largest city, Bourdain and his pal, New York City chef Daniel Boulud, eat their way through tiny bistros, learn the art of sausage-making from a charcuterie expert, and spend a weekend in the company of a proper culinary legend.

The duo’s visit to Paul Bocuse’s eponymous restaurant, where Bourdain, Boulud, and the late Bocuse dine on the legendary French chef’s greatest creations, is arguably the best food sequence in the entire series. Tony refers to this feast as “the meal of my life,” emphasized by his reactions on camera. Later, Bourdain and his chef friends go duck hunting and enjoy a hearty lunch in Bocuse’s lodge out in the country. The episode ends with another rustic family meal, this time with Boulud’s parents at their home just south of the city.

The Lyon episode shows Tony fully enjoying himself in the company of a great friend, while also offering a concise history of the last century of French cuisine.

Read Eater’s full recap here.

“Iran”

(Season 4, Episode 6; original air date November 2, 2014): Throughout its 12 seasons, Parts Unknown often showed audiences what life was like in places that aren’t often featured on Western television: The Iran episode is arguably the most important one in that regard. “All I can tell you is, the Iran I’ve seen on TV and read about in the papers, it’s a much bigger picture,” Bourdain remarks. “Let’s put it this way: It’s complicated.”

Bourdain is immediately surprised by the warm welcome he receives everywhere he goes, and he’s delighted by the hospitality that his hosts extend toward him, especially in their homes. He visits bustling markets, centuries-old places of worship, and parts of Tehran where the locals unwind. Tony also memorably chats with married journalists Jason Rezaian and Yeganeh Salehi about the local way of life. As noted at the end of the show, Rezaian and Yeganeh were both imprisoned shortly after filming this episode in 2014; Salehi was released after a few months, but Rezaian was kept in an Iranian prison until 2016. Bourdain remained a vocal advocate for Rezaian until his release.

After the TV host died, Rezaian told CNN: “The show actually had nothing to do with us being arrested, and if anything I think our appearance there — with really one of the most beloved television personalities, and people, of our generation — raised awareness in a different kind of way that nothing else could have.”

Read Eater’s full recap here.

“Massachusetts”

(Season 4, Episode 7; original air date November 9, 2014): A large chunk of this episode features Bourdain visiting his old haunts from when he was a young, aimless chef bumming around Provincetown. “[I] pretty much had my first everything on the beach,” he says while standing outside of a boarded-up seaside apartment in P-Town. But the real heart of this episode is its second half, when Tony heads west to learn about the opioid epidemic devastating small towns throughout the state.

Tony meets with an undercover narcotics division cop and one of his anonymous sources, as well as a young woman who has stepped back from the brink of heroin addiction and is constantly looking out for addicts in need of help. Tony knows these struggles all too well: One of the episode’s last scenes shows Bourdain talking to a group of recovering addicts about his own past drug use. “I’ll tell you something really shameful about myself,” Bourdain remarks. “The first time I shot up I looked at myself in the mirror with a big grin.”

Read Eater’s full recap here.

“Hanoi”

(Season 8, Episode 1; original air date September 25, 2016): Bourdain clearly loves the capitol of Vietnam, a city he says “grabs you and doesn’t let you go.”

On this very special episode, Tony gets to introduce President Barack Obama to one of his favorite Hanoi activities: eating the pork and noodle dish bun cha and drinking local beer from the bottle. During their convivial meal at a small noodle shop outfitted with stools and tiny tables, Bourdain and Obama discuss the sensory elements of travel, the dining habits of their children, and whether or not it’s ever acceptable to put ketchup on hot dogs (Obama deems that it’s “not acceptable past the age of eight”).

Elsewhere in the episode, Bourdain eats streetside snails in the Old Quarter, and freshly caught squid aboard a steamer ship. The host also chats with a family in a floating fishing village about how the culture and economy in Vietnam are always changing.

Read Eater’s full recap here.

“Houston”

(Season 8, Episode 5; original air date October 30, 2016): Bourdain enters Houston with a goal of ripping up the white-washed image of the city that often finds its way on TV — the one that leans into cowboy hats, the oil industry, NASA, and football. “Close minded, prejudicial, quick to make assumptions about places different than where we grew up,” Bourdain says in the episode’s intro. “I’m talking about me and people like me who are way too comfortable thinking of Texas as a big space filled with intolerant and variably right-wing white people waddling between the fast-food outlet and the gun store.”

During his stay, Bourdain meets with the owners of the Acapulco Ballroom, a popular quinceañera venue for the local Mexican-American community. He visits high school principal and Vietnamese refugee Jonathan N. Trinh, who oversees a student body that hails from 70 different countries. He hangs out with local hip-hop star Slim Thug and learns about local “slab” car culture. And he ends his trip by visiting the Houston Indian Cricket Club, where the game day snacks involve tandoori chicken and “some spicy, tender, and totally delicious curried goat, and made-to-order potato masala dosas.”

Read Eater’s full recap here.

“Rome”

(Season 8, episode 9; original air date December 4, 2016): In a clear homage to filmmaker Pier Pasolini, the Rome episode showcases the working-class neighborhoods of the Eternal City. “This is about people, often extraordinary ones, living their lives in the Rome you don’t see much in the travel guides or TV shows,” Bourdain says at the start of the show.

It’s here, on camera, that Bourdain meets his future girlfriend, filmmaker/actress/activist Asia Argento. They go to a boxing arena where spaghetti is served to attendees during the match. Argento brings him to her home, where they enjoy a rustic meal with her family. And later, they go ambling among the Brutalist ruins of the Mussolini area. Like many of the best episodes of Parts Unknown, Bourdain seems creatively charged by the people and places he meets along the way.

“Rome is a city where you find the most extraordinary pleasures in the most ordinary things,” Bourdain says while dining in a trattoria, “like this place which I’m not ever going to tell you the name of.”

Read Eater’s full recap here.

“Los Angeles”

(Season 9, Episode 1; original air date April 30, 2017): The first Parts Unknown episode to air during the Trump administration is a passionate celebration of LA’s Latinx community, and the immigrant workers who drive so many of the city’s industries. “Los Angeles, like much of California, used to be part of Mexico,” Bourdain says in the intro. “Now Mexico, or a whole lot of Mexicans, are a vital part of us.”

Bourdain meets with community activist Elisa Sol Garcia, tattoo artist Mister Cartoon, actor Danny Trejo, and MMA fighters Nick and Nate Diaz. Throughout his LA sojourn, the host samples some of the city’s myriad Mexican specialties, from tongue tacos to traditional Oaxacan moles to Ray Garcia’s modern cuisine at Broken Spanish, all the while emphasizing the importance of Latinx chefs in the American food scene.

“I worked in French and Italian restaurants my whole career, but really, if I think about it, they were Mexican restaurants and Ecuadorian restaurants, because the majority of the cooks and the people working with me were from those countries,” Bourdain remarks. “That’s who, you know, picked me up when I fell down; who showed me what to do when I walked in and didn’t know anything and nobody knew my name.”

Read Eater’s full recap here.

“Laos”

(Season 9, Episode 4; original air date May 14, 2017): Although he eats some terrific local delicacies in this episode — including steaming bowls of khao soi and charcoal-grilled squid skewers — the majority of Bourdain’s visit focuses on the tragic story of how Laos became “the most heavily bombed country per capita in the history of the world.”

Tony spends a lot of time in Hmong villages discussing the bomb clean-up from the war, and sees, first-hand, why it’s so difficult to remove the unexploded ordnances. Bourdain also explores the country’s complicated relationship with the United States, and meets the aid workers trying to help the country bounce back. “Here, on one hand, we have Americans dropping bombs that at the time blow this child up, and then there are American doctors to put them back together,” Bourdain says.

Read Eater’s full recap here.

“Kenya”

(Season 12, Episode 1; original air date September 23, 2018): A big part of Bourdain’s appeal on Parts Unknown is that he seemingly lived an enviable life, bouncing around the world, surrounded by fascinating people and delectable things to eat. And the joy of this episode is seeing a bona fide Bourdain fan — fellow CNN host W. Kamau Bell — join him on one of his adventures for the very first time.

Tony is a benevolent traveling companion, imparting various bits of wisdom to Bell on his first trip to Africa, and the United Shades of America host seems thrilled to be rolling with Bourdain and experiencing the local culture for the first time. While sitting atop a mountain on safari, with a drink in hand, Bell turns to Bourdain and says, “The idea that I’m sitting here with you doing this now, knowing where my life and career have come, it’s pretty cool.”

The Kenya episode was the first to air since Bourdain’s death, and the last to feature his full participation. It’s a great way to remember this TV legend, particularly because Bell’s commentary highlights the reason why audiences loved Bourdain so much throughout his career: He kept exploring, never talked down to anyone, and always brought us along for the ride.

Read Eater’s Full recap here.

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Source: https://www.eater.com/2018/11/10/18079924/anthony-bourdain-parts-unknown-cnn-best-episodes