#At this rate we’ll be the next italy.

[spnscripthunt-inactive]

SPNScriptHunt’s Script Raffle for World Central Kitchen

World Central Kitchen is a global organization providing food relief. They’ve assisted in war zones, in refugee camps, in areas devastated by hurricanes, in areas that are devastated by economic conditions and areas that are devastated due to emotional loss.

For every $10 you donate to World Central Kitchen, you will be entered in a raffle to win one of up to 30 Supernatural scripts autographed by cast members at conventions in the United States, Canada, the UK, and Italy: the more we raise the more prizes we’ll add!

The scripts shown here are just a few of the ones we’re offering, the complete list and all the details (with preview images) is on our fundraiser page: https://donate.wck.org/fundraiser/4789450

The Kripke & Gamble era scripts:

2.12 "Nightshifter" - Blue Draft signed by Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki at Salute to Supernatural: San Francisco 2023; to be signed by Chris Gauthier at DragonCon 2023 [It's missing the last page so we'll include the episode outline 🙃]

3.07 "Fresh Blood" - Network Draft signed by Jared Padalecki at Rhode Island Comic Con 2022

2.21 "All Hell Breaks Loose: Part One" - Blue Collated Draft signed by Jared Padalecki at Creation New Orleans 2023

3.14 "Long-Distance Call" - Production Draft, Blue Revisions (Production Draft signed by Jensen Ackles at Creation Las Vegas 2023)

7.03 "The Girl Next Door" - Production Draft, Blue Revisions, Pink Revisions (Production Draft signed by Jared Padalecki at Salute to Supernatural: Nashville 2022)

Raffle closes on Saturday, August. 26 at 11:59pm (Eastern Time). Winners will be drawn by a random number generator and contacted by Tuesday, August 28, 2023. We require an email address to contact winners so if you donated anonymously but would like to enter the raffle, please email your receipt to spnscripthuntgiving @ gmail before the drawing date. Winners will have 72 hours to respond, and will be required to provide their physical mailing address and to cover the cost of shipping (currently $10 for priority mail insured inside the US, international rates to be determined as necessary).

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2009 It’s been a very peaceful Halloween being out in the woods and away from pesky civilization. It was also quiet today between Jesse’s being home and the weather being warmer.

Didn’t do all that great on tonight’s German lesson but am 75% through 101 with a 92% accuracy rate.

Some people laugh at my use of the word “only.” Such as when I said I was currently fluent in only 3 languages, and when I described a certain day back in Arizona as being mild and only 108º. A cashier who once drooled with envy when I could sit on my hair cracked up when I spoke of the days it was only to my waist.

I was thinking I should get if not a California license, then at least a California ID. I think I’ve been living in California with an Arizona driver’s license with an Oregon address on it long enough.

I also think I should get my own debit card. It’s never good to keep money in just one place anyway, and if anyone’s learned this the hard way a couple of years ago, it’s us.

Meanwhile, November’s when we get his Mac back, December’s when we get my new glasses (or contacts if I can get up the guts to try them), plus other things we could use around here, then January is when we begin to save, save and save! By June I estimate will have enough for a new vehicle if this one crapped out and wasn’t worth fixing. By next December I estimate we’ll have that plus 3-4 months of rent saved.

Right now we’re thinking the best time to go to Italy will be when we’re waiting for our new house to go through and all that. A few months before I know when we’re going for sure I’ll really push for fluency with the Italian. It shouldn’t take long since I know other romance languages and the general rules of how they work. My brain is also wired for that sort of thing anyway.

So now we learn that the healthcare reform thing was basically just a joke, though I pretty much figured as much from the get-go. Tom was all excited about it, but as I tried to tell him, “Don’t be so naive, gullible and quick to believe everything you read! People love to make false promises. Especially at a time when people are so down on their luck and need to hear anything that sounds good to help keep them going. Meanwhile, nobody’s gonna give us shit. Our government cares more about taking care of other countries and not its own people. We have to wait till we’re 65 to get insurance because you sure as hell won’t be getting any job that offers insurance IF you can ever get another job again in the first place.”

As much as I hate cold weather, sometimes I think we ought to just take the Macs, laptop, stereo, iPod, maybe the camera, some clothes and some toiletries like shampoo and toothpaste, leave everything we can’t sell, then head on up to Canada where they insure everyone. But I know we wouldn’t survive the transition and I don’t know that they do retirement communities.

I’m just so worried about our future! The present might look better with the MT and all that, but the long-term future just looks so incredibly bleak. :( I fear that instead of “going home” in 3 years we’ll be killing ourselves instead in about 2 years if there are still no jobs when his extensions run out and we don’t want to be total street bums.

Thanks, God. Thank you so much for caring about my husband and I. Your love for us really shows.

Meanwhile, I’m not going to “try” to get to a dentist and I’m not going to “hope” for one either! That’s just no fucking way to have to live. Do you know how many things could go wrong with a person’s health in 21 years on top of the dental problems they may already have?! Well, if we survive this recession in the first place that’s how long I’ve got till I can get Medicare. :(

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 30, 2009 Made a couple of bucks in less than 5 minutes and am slowly going blond while I’m at it. Well, semi-blond. Blond is my least favorite hair color, but gray is also the ugliest color in the world. I still don’t have much gray; just a little at the temples and forehead plus a few sprinkles elsewhere. But I thought that if I lightened it up little by little the gray roots wouldn’t stand out as much. I’m not going to lighten it too much, though, because I simply wouldn’t look good as a blond either way. Right now, between the last dye job and the California sunshine, it’s a light golden brown.

The good news is that I’m easily going to beat my $100 goal for the month of October. As soon as I get everything that’s pending, plus whatever else I’ll make today and tomorrow, I should be closer to $130 - $150. Between the two of us, it’s like getting his pension money early, plus more!

It’s neat to get paid to write articles and various things that get published in magazines and online, plus other kinds of jobs I do in both English and Spanish. Nothing in Italian or Portuguese yet, though I’m not as good yet in those languages or with German. The German classes have slowed down since I’ve been busy working, but weekends are slower so that’s when I usually catch up on things like that.

Got a letter from Rosa. She made me a Halloween card. I sent her the notes we swapped late one night so as not to wake Tina up by talking out loud and she was amazed that I kept it all these years.

She said she misses home, of course, and her son and mom, but that she tries to keep busy. She said people are always at her door wanting her to make birthday cards or cards for other occasions, and she’s usually tired by the time she’s alone. I didn’t know you could be “alone” anymore in prison than you could be in jail. She’s lucky if that’s the case.

It’s been chilly at night, but the days have been warm and sunny. We might even hit 80º in a few days. :)

Tom called Jesse shortly after I got up today at 11:00 and let him know that he discovered that he hadn’t turned the cooler valve off all the way so that’s why water was running off. There’s also a leak in the plastic line which Jesse says he’ll replace, but as Tom told him, there’s no reason that can’t wait till next year. I still think there’s a gap in the roof by the door too, and that it’ll leak in front of the door when it rains.

I just don’t see how Jesse could’ve seen the water dripping onto the porch from his place like he claims. Maybe with binoculars, but I don’t see how he could see it through all the trees and brush.

Speaking of trees, he’s also going to be dragging a dead tree by our place at some point which I’m sure will have to be when I’m asleep. The bulldozer is broken down right now so he has to fix it first.

I just wish he would do something to shut his fucking dogs up when he leaves! Three times I had to yell at them after he left on the motorcycle around noon. I was so glad to hear him come back just before 2:00. But it’s Friday night so he might still go get shitfaced somewhere. I’m sure the dogs will let me know it if he does.

The whole thing just makes me want to get our own dog even more. If we have to listen to barking every place we go, why not have it be our own for once? It’s like when neighbors blast music. People figure that if they’ve got to hear music for a while it may as well be their own, and so they join right in. We’ve also had a string of bad luck with rats ever since Tinkerbell died, and I like the idea of having something that lives longer than two years. But I don’t like not having a doggy door or an enclosed yard!

I’ve decided not to renew my Webshots membership this year, though they do say you can store up to 1000 pics with a free membership and I’ve got 993, so my pics will still be there. I’m just sick of all the holiday pics! Who the hell needs a dozen Halloween pics and so far in advance of the actual date? It’s worth saving $30, even if it means losing out on some of the better premium pro shots. I’m also archiving my pics in Yahoo either way.

Kiwi’s to launch 3.0 on Monday, something no one’s at all happy about.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 29, 2009 My entries have really been lacking, haven’t they? Work’s been so good that I’ve been pretty busy. Initially, I set a goal of $3.25 a day so I could make $100 a month. Then I started to think I’d be lucky to get just $2.00 a day. Lately, however, I’ve been making $10-$15 a day! Not bad for a few hours of work in the comfort of home. So while I may not be God’s little princess, I ain’t His poor-ass bum anymore either! Hopefully, He’ll go beat on someone else’s head with money for a good long time and leave ours alone. It’s people who don’t give a damn and who don’t want to work that deserve to struggle. Not us! As I told God the other day, “Yo, do you think we’re Puerto Rican or something? Well, we’re not and we really do want to work!”

But sadly there won’t be many new jobs coming around this area for quite some time to come, so it’s nice to at least be able to work online for once and make more than a few cents a day. So now our monthly income should be around $1600 a month, plenty comfortable with our rent being only about half of that. We were even able to have the tank filled with propane today for $200. So 120 gallons of that should keep us set till early February. I had just gotten up when the guy came.

I also got to wake up to the tune of barking, too. Yeah, lucky me, huh? It’s really sad that we have to deal with this in every place we live, but that’s the west for you. And it’s not going to stop with an adult community either, should we ever make it into one. But it’s the only place we can buy something without the loud music and kids in the picture as well. I’m surprised Whiskey didn’t go on and on all day, but I’m sure that the colder it gets, the more he’ll bark. It’s obviously a temperature/seasonal thing.

Jesse left a message saying he noticed the water dripping onto the porch just in front of the door we use. Tom will call him tomorrow after he goes up on the roof to see what he can see. It’s probably coming from the cooler even though we turned the water off for the year. Jesse also did a shitty job on the porch roof. At least the part by the door. There’s obviously a gap somewhere up there for the water to be able to get through in the first place.

What scares me is knowing that this could all be for nothing; this saving up money and all that. Maybe his extensions will run out in a couple of years and maybe there still won’t be any jobs and maybe the government will decide not to give any more extensions. After all, they’ve got to send our money to other countries. Fuck their own people. I mean, what do we deserve? We’re only from here.

As for a dentist, I’ve given up. I totally give up on being teased with the prospect of ever seeing a dentist. I’ve simply resigned myself to the fact that I’m not going to ever see one and therefore I’ve quit hoping for that. I said to myself the other day, “Face it, Jodi, if you were meant to see one you’d have seen one by now. It’s obviously not going to happen, so move on to something that’s doable.”

IDK, maybe something up there just doesn’t feel I deserve to see a dentist, or maybe it just doesn’t give a damn. All I know is that even though we’re doing much better, we’re never going to have that kind of money or insurance since they’d obviously rather just talk about healthcare reform and not actually do anything about it. If the fucking government cared about its own people any more than it did terrorists in Palestine, they’d already have given us insurance. I know no one’s gonna get shit and I’m not going to let myself be belittled, in a sense, with this impossible dream of seeing a lousy dentist. Besides, I have gone this long on my own after all, and I can just take a pain reliever when they really get on my nerves. The teeth still have to die sooner or later anyway, don’t they? Either way, sometimes you want to do something for so long, but you can never do it for whatever reason, and so you finally just give up altogether. Even if I were suddenly insured by some miracle, I’m tired of even thinking of dentists! I’ll get by on my own.

I think the same thing happened with the idea of having a kid. I wanted one for years and I believed I was infertile after years of not being able to conceive. Then one day I had a miscarriage and by then I was so damn sick of the subject that I just didn’t care. So it wasn’t just about me deciding I wanted to keep my life and my freedom. Yeah, that was part of it. But when one anticipates something for so long it just has a way of getting old and wearing off. The only thing I can’t imagine fading with time is the desire to own our own home, preferably one that isn’t a million years old. But maybe it will. Maybe I’ll decide I like renting trashy old trailers by the time he finally turns 55. I just wouldn’t count on that one! Contrary to some people’s beliefs, though, we only have so much control over our destiny and can only be in the driver’s seat so much. All we can do is try our best to achieve what we want. The rest is up to fate. If we’re not meant to have a home – and I would say that being run out of one and losing two others would be a good indicator of what’s in our cards – then there’s not much we can do about it.

For the first time ever I wanted to hug Obama. That’d be when he signed the first federal gay rights law. I nearly fainted with shock when I read about it what with all the false promises those in politics usually make. I definitely can’t say all blacks are like the ones who victimized me for being white and Jewish and asking that they keep their music and trash off our property. I wonder why the change of heart, though, as he sure did a good job of coming off as quite a bigot in saying he thought marriage should be between a man and a woman. To hear someone say that may be sick, but it’s even sicker to hear this from a black person of all people who should know firsthand what it’s like to be discriminated against. I could’ve sworn he said he thought marriage should be between a man and a woman, but that he didn’t hate gays and I was like, then why would you want to exclude them from anything? If you don’t hate someone, you wouldn’t want to suppress their rights as far as I’m concerned.

Ok, this entry’s getting to be kind of long, longer than I expected, so I’m calling it a night for now. Fatso Ratso and Mr. Ratitude will no doubt want their dinner by now.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 27, 2009 I’m actually writing this entry by hand which I plan to type up later when the power is back on. I was sitting at the kitchen table finishing up my breakfast (Tom was still asleep) when the power suddenly died. This was around 7:00. So I called up to Jesse and he didn’t have any power either. The question is whether or not they’re working on something or if the big windstorm we’re supposed to have knocked the power out. I just hope it’s back on soon cuz it’s 62º in here! At this time of year, we don’t get any direct sunlight till around 11:00 being up against the mountain where the sun rises, and so it’ll be quite a while before it even hits 70º in here.

I almost feel like I’m being compensated for all the money I made yesterday. Yeah, yesterday was a great workday. Lots of easy jobs with better pay than usual.

Anyway, after I threw on my mom’s jammies which I appreciate immensely since I haven’t owned a pair in years, I made some hot tea. The bottoms threatened to slip off while I was at it, but I got by. I also threw on one of her sweatshirts, another thing I appreciated. I hate long sleeves, so between that and living in warm climates, I haven’t had much in the way of long sleeves either.

Hey, I’ve been keeping a journal for exactly 22 years now! On this very day 22 years ago I went to the Enfield mall with Jenny (I can’t believe I had such stuck-up selfish friends like her, but most of us do at 21) and got my first journal in 1987. I wrote by hand until 1993 when I met Tom.

Ok, back on track now. After my tea, I realized I had only 4 things I could do. I could eat. I could work out. I could listen to my iPod. Or I could lie in bed bored out of my freaking mind. I decided to write instead.

Later on, we’re going to get burgers and fries. I could light our propane stove/oven with a lighter, but I’ve been craving burgers and fries anyway. I also lost another pound, so why not?

My hand is cramping up on me because I’m not used to writing by hand so I’ll stop for now.

Whiskey just went off for a bit so Jesse must’ve left. I didn’t see the freeloaders’ dogs so I guess it just must be that time of year.

Later…

It turned out to be a pretty fun day. We left around 11:00 for Carl’s Jr. Their burgers and fries are scrumptious! The place was clean, warm, sunny and surprisingly quiet.

Then we browsed through the Goodwill store since it was close by and I grabbed some more incense.

When we returned the power was back on and now the place is just beautiful with all the afternoon sunshine and the windows open. We definitely won’t need the cooler today, though. There’s a beautiful breeze out today too, but it’s not as windy here as it was in town being nestled against the mountainside like we are.

That’s it for now. Off to work I go!

MONDAY, OCTOBER 26, 2009 Jesse didn’t work last week, but he’s working this week. Whiskey went off at 8:00. Gee, it must be coming up on November. :( I had just started putting lotion on my feet and decided that I’d go out and yell up at him if he was still going off when it dried, but he stopped. Still, I’m afraid it’s just a little sneak preview of the shit I’m going to have to listen to until April. It sucks too, not just because excessive barking is no fun to have to deal with no matter what, but it’s going to really distract me from my work.

Tom just got up now and is bogging the net watching a show so that’s why I’m catching up on my writing and proofreading now. I love the guy, but I’m so sick of him being home day after day. Just every single fucking day of every week! I like to be the first one up yet I only get to wake up when he’s asleep 3 times in like 2 weeks. This is the only thing I miss about him having an outside job. I miss having the place to myself at times when he’s not in the way when I’m cleaning or here to distract me from whatever. I would still rather make little money on our own than lots of money with him working elsewhere.

Anyway, I was thinking of the day we own our own place again, have sufficient space, and the freedom to do as we please with it. I really do hope Tom’s right too, and that it does happen! The only dark cloud over the idea is having so much barking so close to us. When I think about it, 90% of the noise we’ve had to live with since being together has been from dogs. I’d say only about 10% of it has been from loud music and kids or excessive car door slamming. But a retirement community is still certainly better than just any community because then we limit the sounds to just barking and maybe some door slamming if they have company 3 times a day like most folks out here seem to.

For the longest time, I’ve been saying there are just two things keeping our lives from being perfect. Lack of money, and worrying about who’s going to take care of us when we get too old to fend for ourselves since we opted out of children in the end. Most of the time we’ve been together we’ve made 30K - 50K a year so we’ll probably have money again at least for a while. It’s the other thing that’s bothered me. It’s easy to say I hope to be the one to die first so I won’t have to be alone and won’t have to deal with the heartache of losing him, but if I were the one to go first, then who would he have by his side in his final days??? Then a simple solution crossed my mind, but it’s not a good one. I’d always hoped we’d each have someone, even if it were just a bunch of indifferent hospital staff, by our sides in the end. However, if we killed ourselves the minute either one of us was diagnosed with something terminal, that’d sure make it easier, wouldn’t it? Ugh, I hate to have to think of it either way and trying to tell myself it’s way too soon to be worrying about shit like that doesn’t always work!

I just might make my goal of $100 after all in my first month at MT. There was a lot of work over the last week, but now it’s slowing down again so I won’t know for sure until the month ends.

I just went out and yelled at Whiskey to be quiet when he started up again and he quieted down right away. But not even a few minutes later he was going off again. I stormed over to the door saying, “What good is the command going to do if it’s only going to work for 10 minutes?!” Then I saw our typical lazy, defiant Mexican neighbors’ dogs back on the loose again. So tomorrow it’s off to call the complaint line again like Jesse told us to for what will no doubt be the fourth time when they’re supposedly supposed to lose them. They’ll just get new dogs to turn loose if they do as that’s just what Mexicans do; they do things their way and their way only, and that’s usually to annoy as many people around them as they possibly can. Then when Tom goes back to work we’ll literally be paying for them to do it, too. Hopefully, today was just an occasional occurrence where the dogs got loose accidentally, but I don’t know. They’ve gotta be just itching to rebel by now. Again I’ll ask, how can these people complain that no one likes them if they’re going to treat people the way they do and be so inconsiderate and rude? Why can’t they be like everyone else around here? Everyone else has been a fine neighbor. No problems there. So if others can behave, why can’t they? The dogs aren’t just annoying with the way they bark and stir up Jesse’s dogs, but these are pitbulls, and pitbulls can be pretty dangerous. They need to be kept tied up and on their own property.

Tom went out and tried to nail them with a rock when they went down into the ditch, and it would’ve been the perfect shot too, had it not hit a tree branch. Figures, huh?

We’re going to have to fire up the heater today. There’s no getting away with it anymore, especially at night now that it’s getting down into the 40s. And we’re also going to have to call the propane guys out soon too, as the tank’s down to 12%. In fact, Tom’s struggling to light the heater now, saying we should get $200 in propane this week. Yeah, AFTER he struggles to light the heater he says will be easy to light if he just removes the spring door while he’s at it. OMG, he got it lit! He really did. I’m impressed.

Down a pound for some reason and that’s really about it. Since I’ve been working my ass off, which is why my entries have been lacking, I’m going to take it easier today and catch up on other things I’ve been neglecting.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 24, 2009 I won a coupon for a free box of those Little Debbie cupcakes Tom loves so much, so that’s cool.

Finally heard from Mary, too. She’s depressed, as expected, but hanging in there. She says the place she’s in now which is in Ft. Lauderdale is so horrible cuz it’s run like a boot camp and the officers there are like drill sergeants and they keep them really busy. She’s also in a huge dorm with 60 people. So much for prison being more comfortable than jail! She did say, however, that they sell radios, soda, coffee and pizza there. So at least she’s got that much to look forward to.

The last paragraph of her letter made me smile. Not just because of the suggestion itself but because I was glad to see she’s at least able to think of – uh – well, these kinds of things despite her predicament, LOL. She said I should write a book with two lesbian lovers and have one be a dominatrix.

I’ll keep that in mind, though I do romantic suspense, and well, a dominatrix hasn’t yet exactly fit any of the roles I’ve had in mind so far for characters, but we’ll see. I haven’t even been writing much of anything in the first place because I’ve been swamped with work. Been doing these transcriptions that are actually of good audio quality for a change, and plugged right into the “hit” as they call it, so there’s no downloading and setup involved or anything like that. But I expect the work will come in waves, so when the jobs are lacking I’ll do other things.

The money’s building up nicely and so is my weight. Yeah, if I don’t quit this shit with all the binging I’ve been doing lately it’s just gonna keep going up and up and up! I’m 126 pounds now.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 21, 2009 I hear a garbage truck somewhere off in the distance. It’s obviously coming from down the mountain somewhere, cuz no one this far up the mountain has trash service.

Eileen and I exchanged emails throughout yesterday morning and a little bit into the afternoon. Then she had to get ready to move. I guess moving day is tomorrow.

Anyway, there wasn’t much work and then tons of jobs came flying in. They nearly cracked 100,000 hits. I’ve been working on and off all night, but when tons of hits come in within the same job, I don’t want to get carried away doing too many in case they’re just going to end up rejecting my work. I did some huge writing projects and other piddly little things.

I also think I may now know what’s going on with my heart. Yeah, I forgot about tachycardia, but that seems the most likely. It’s nothing serious; just a bit of a faulty electrical system, though I sure had the palpitations from hell the other day. Normally they just beat really hard for 3-4 beats at a time, but for the first time ever it did this for about a dozen beats. I was just beginning to wonder if it would ever stop when it actually did.

Things have dried up outside and it’s to be back around the 80-degree marker soon, but not fast enough for me.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 20, 2009 So Amber sent me a friend invite on KB. I accepted it, but after having more time to reflect on the issue, I’m not sure forgiving her was the right thing. Yeah, I may like her fiery, outspoken side to a degree, but she’s also pretty unstable at times. Very angry, confrontational, defensive, and downright mean. None of us may be perfect, but she seems to have a ratio of kindness versus meanness that I’m just not into. I’m surprised she’s so sensitive when it comes to animals, for she certainly doesn’t seem to have much compassion for people. So I will be polite, but not friendly.

Eileen sent me a direct email saying she’s moving to Quincy to be closer to her kids and grandkid. This is nice to know and that she didn’t lose her house with all the foreclosures going on out there.

She asked how I decided on “ratgirl” and I told her about how I got hooked on rats.

It’s still kind of funny how my million-year search led others to find her who were also looking for her.

I didn’t get the impression that she’d seen my journal, but that may be a good thing. Eileen doesn’t strike me as a judgmental kind of person, but if you don’t like those who are unique, eccentric, liberal and outspoken, then you won’t like me! And even if you do, I can see where some people may still be unnerved by the idea of someone they know keeping a public journal, even if it’s hardly uncommon these days, and they don’t have anything unkind to say about them.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 19, 2009 I wasn’t going to join Ning, the new “safe haven” for shafted and pissed-off Kiwiers, but then said what the hell? And so I joined.

Now I can finally say – after a long, long time of being what’s probably the least forgiving person on earth – that I have forgiven someone whom I’ve gotten into it with in the past online. She may stumble upon this journal and not appreciate her name mentioned here any more than it might have already been mentioned, so I won’t do it unless she says it’s ok to do so.

I think it’s cool that we’ve moved on and I think we both realize that sometimes we tend to get carried away at the mouth because we’re so much alike in that we’re both very outspoken. I also think a lot of people mistake our honesty and bluntness for being rude bitches, but that’s basically what it was about. We pissed each other off by saying things the other didn’t agree with, but I have realized that hey, we’re not in high school and so it’s better to “make up” and move on than to hold stupid grudges over the dumbest of things. She didn’t spite me into jail for verbally laying into her abusive ex as Tammy did. Now THAT’S unforgivable! But if she or a few others I’ve squabbled with on KB were suddenly outside our door, they’d be welcomed in for coffee, tea or whatever. We all make mistakes and say stupid shit we shouldn’t say in the heat of the moment, but looking back on it later on it all seems so silly. Most of all, I think we can be as compassionate as we can be mean, me and this chick, and in the end, humans weren’t created to be perfect in the first place anyway.

So if you’re reading this – yeah, you know who you are, LOL - yeah, you’re a bitch just like me, but you’re a likable bitch at the same time. :) I admire your good traits, so keep on doing what you do best!

I now have a 29” waist – yay! Not the 22”-24” that would be ideal for my height, but I’ll settle for peeling off just a few more inches. My weight is still hovering around the 122-pound marker, though. So now that I’m 36-29-36, I’m really starting to pump iron to get that sculpted, muscular look. Slowly but surely, I’m getting there. My tummy is about 90% flat now, too. :)

That justice of the peace in Louisiana is pretty fucked up for refusing a marriage license to an interracial couple, saying that most interracial marriages fail, and any kids they may have will just be picked on.

Most marriages fail anyway, like it or not, and kids pick on each other all the time if not for one thing, then for something else. Besides, people shouldn’t try to stop others from doing what they want simply cuz of what might happen. I hope they sue him silly cuz it’s their lives, and if they really are making a mistake, it’s theirs to make. People should be able to marry their dogs if that’s what they want.

Later…

Just got a little rain, but at least my ear’s not acting up. I never did get any side effects from yesterday’s Claritin (just my sleep being split up), not even the one I wanted which is where I lose my appetite. I still only had about 800 calories yesterday, though today it’s leaning more towards 1200.

Got a message from Dorian, my number-one fan. He always puts a smile on my face. Damn, that guy can write!

Eileen accepted the friend invite just as I was getting pretty sure she either never got it or decided to avoid me for some reason, saying she didn’t realize she had to accept it. I didn’t realize this at first either, I told her.

She sold her house and is packing, but didn’t say where she’s going. I hope she’s ok! I gave her my email addy in case she’d rather keep in touch that way since she doesn’t use Facebook regularly. She did say that due to my finding her more Naomi people are contacting her. Oops. I’m sorry if I may’ve opened up a can of pests! Nah, she probably doesn’t mind. I did notice we had a mutual friend, though. I don’t remember this person, though I’m not surprised she remembers me. I was quite a little monster, no doubt, even though I was only there for all of 5 minutes, LOL!

After saying hi to Emma and Amber on Ning, I swapped messages with Susan. I told her I was totally on her side about the launching of 3.0 and that I believed her when she said Mike got screwed over (he’s there too, and I said hello to him as well) and tried to fight to stop it from happening, but those assholes in Germany are hell-bent on taking over. Despite any disagreements, we sort of became like one big family over there and yeah, you really can make friends online that you’ve never met and never will. So I know how they feel.

Susan replied saying she quit all her jobs there when Mike left and that he was the main reason she stayed on as long as she did, thanked me for my support, and said it was nice to see me there. I doubt I’ll be there that often, though, since I won’t be journaling there, but I’ll drop in every now and then to say hello to people.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 17, 2009 Ah, it is so nice to get paid for my writing for once! Been doing qualification tests and they’ve decided I’m best at writing and so I should be given writing jobs. Gee, I wonder why, LOL! I just wish I could do more transcriptions, though I can’t do many because they’re just too hard to hear. Oh well, I’m still doing pretty good seeing that I’m coming up on $60 counting pending jobs.

I might not get much work done tonight and not just because it’s slower on weekends, but because I’ll be drunk on Claritin D. Yeah, that’s why I’m hurrying up and doing this entry now; before it sets in and makes me dizzy, drowsy, light-headed, jittery, and a true insomniac at heart. The side effects are a killer, but the stuff really does work. I also love how it kills my appetite, too. It’s no wonder they made it illegal to obtain in some states without a prescription. I can totally see how it’d be every druggy and anorexic’s dream come true. I took it a couple of days ago and barely ate 500 calories all day. The worst side effect is the bizarre dreams you have if you can get to sleep in the first place. I slept horribly on Thursday. It’s like I never fully fell asleep, but just remained sort of on the edge of sleep and wakefulness. The next day I let myself get caught up, but since my ear started acting up again today I decided to take another Claritin, even though I’ll be just as sorry as I will be glad that I did.

I’m enjoying this toasty warm night we’re having before it cools down and clouds up yet again so more bugs can invade the place.

That’s pretty much it. Been doing a wonderful job of neglecting my stories and am even slacking off on my German lessons, but I might get around to it tonight, depending on how much of a Claritin haze I’m in. The side effects do eventually go away, but it takes a while and I’d rather not have to be on the stuff that long in the first place.

Think I’ll go check out what new jobs may be in and then do a little proofreading.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 16, 2009 Wow, I made a buck fifty in just 3 minutes writing a 200-word article reviewing our local pet store. It’s nice to finally get paid for my writing! I’ll bet I made more doing that than I would have had I let them publish my manuscript for just pennies while the publishing company kept most of the dough.

Anyway, I’m over $40 now. Sometimes the work comes in steady streams, sometimes it seems like hours go by before anything new comes in that I’m qualified to do, which they’ve decided is mostly writing projects. Gee, I wonder why?

Now I’m thinking my ear might be affected by humidity as well. It’s hot again here, but still kind of humid for this area. It got on my nerves enough to take a nightmare pill for it. Yeah, that’s what I call the Claritin D. Benadryl doesn’t help much, so I took Claritin instead, even though it fucks with my sleep and causes nightmares. I laughed when I first read that side effect, unable to see how medication could do that to you, but I don’t mind being chased by ax-wielding zombies for a few minutes if that’s what it takes to relieve the pressure I get when the tube that runs between the inner ear and throat gets congested.

Anyway, it’s after 4am and I’ve got the fan on and the window open. Now that’s how California should always be! Ah, but sadly, it’s to cool down and cloud up again soon. It’s December through February that I’m really not looking forward to.

I’m burning Cool Water incense now which smells like lavender.

Less than two weeks ago I only knew a few German words and now I know dozens. The jail Germ, as I’d refer to her, would be impressed. That’d be the 60-year-old thief I was in jail with whom I both liked and hated. She drove me crazy cuz she’d always pace back and forth across the little two-man cell we were in, but she sure had a lot of interesting stories to tell about her life back in Germany before she married the American soldier she married. She was small like me, but that was Ad-Seg for you – home of the high-profile child abusers and the undersized.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 15, 2009 The German lessons are going really well, though some of those looooong words can be tough to pronounce. Currently, I am fluent in 3 languages, knowledgeable in 2, and now I’m learning German. I don’t know that I’ll add any more languages to my list after this. I think managing 6 languages is enough work!

Mary’s 32 today. I just hope she’s ok and that I hear from her when we go to pick up our mail on Friday. That’s when the rats’ new bottle will be there, so that’s why we’re going then. Then we won’t go again till next Thursday when the check should be there.

We got slammed with rain and so Jesse was bulldozing the drive from what it sounded like when I got up. I figured he would. That first rain of the year really messes things up. I just hope the dogs don’t go losing in November like they did last November.

My ear’s been acting up since it got cooler and rainy, so maybe it’s a temperature or humidity thing besides an elevation issue. It’s supposed to be warm and sunny again, though. As it is I haven’t needed any heat tonight. It’s coming up on 2am, yet it’s 77º in here.

The Turk’s kind of slow today, though I’m coming up on $40 and still have hundreds of jobs pending. I’ve submitted over 1100 now.

Tom’s looking forward to getting his Mac back in a few weeks so he can do more transcriptions and make money a lot faster. We figured out that all we need is $45 a day to make it on our own. I doubt the Turk would ever make us that much, but his program is still a possibility. We’re looking at launching that in a few months or so.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 14, 2009 Understandably, a lot of people on KB are pissed that their protests to stop the launching of 3.0 are going ignored. I agree that there are already enough goddamn Facebook knock-offs on the web. They’re setting up other sites to discuss the fall of KB since you can’t really express yourself on KB if it’s not what they want to hear any more than you could on OLS.

I myself haven’t left KB due to just the inevitable, unwanted change, but for other reasons beyond the loss of prizes and journals. I’m sick of the drama queens like Susan, Amber and Emma, though I can relate to their frustrations over what’s been going on. Still, I’m tired of seeing the same damn members get away with attacking those who dare to speak their minds and be unique simply because they’re best buds with the hot shots there. But life wasn’t meant to be fair and I can’t fix KB. Only the new owners can do that and they obviously don’t want to leave what works best the hell alone and put an end to the favoritism that goes on there.

Here I don’t have to be afraid to “be myself” in my own journal. Here I can say what I want and not have to deal with any little sensitives who can’t handle and therefore shouldn’t be reading what I might have to say. Journals are supposed to be a means of fully expressing ourselves without having to hold back in any way. Anyplace that says you can’t bash apples or cows in your own journal isn’t really providing you with a “journal” in the first place. Furthermore, if you don’t like what someone may have to say in their journal, there’s a simple solution to that. There really is.

Don’t read it!

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 13, 2009 Lots of Turk work came in today and that helped make up for the slow weekend. It was down to like 10,000 jobs on Sunday, but today there was something like 33,000.

I’m halfway through German 101, still with a 95% accuracy rate, and about to take another lesson.

Supposedly we have a real kick-ass storm on the way. At about 4am we should get slammed. In less than a day, we’re to get as much rain as we’d get in Arizona in a year. Lots of wind, too.

Can’t think of anything else. Just working and doing the usual.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 11, 2009 I’m now 44% through German 101 and still with a score of 95%. I’m going to be taking another lesson in a few minutes since it’s another slow workday. I still got enough to order that bottle for the rats awfully fast! That should be here within a week. After I get the things on my list I’m going to start saving most of my earnings.

I definitely need new glasses next. Tom thinks I need bifocals. I miss my old eyes! I really didn’t think I’d need glasses of any kind till I was in my 50s, yet my eyes are getting worse and worse by the minute, and these drugstore glasses are too heavy.

I also need new bras. Dumping 30 pounds makes your clothes too small! Then we’d still like the memory foam topper for the bed, a new body pillow, and one of those Nu-Wave ovens. I also have to drop Napster for Slacker and renew my Webshots membership.

So after we get all this shit which should cost around $300, I’ll start saving. Tom will have the $500 he’ll need to get his Mac back next month.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 10, 2009 I’m now 38% through German 101 with a score of 95%. It’s going a hell of a lot better than the French was! I’m retaining quite a bit and fast too, though I think it’s going to take me 5 years before I can say the word “nurse.” Krankenschwester, WTF???

I guess I’ll journal here till they either launch 3.0 or I get sick of it.

Not much Turk work in today cuz it’s the weekend, but I’m over $30 now.

We went to put money on the card to cover the phone/net bill today, and since we’re not doing so bad I even got some incense at the Goodwill. Vanilla, Strawberry, Wild Cherries, Opium, Cool Water, Jasmine, Rain Forest and China Rain.

It was a hot one out there today. At least in the direct sunlight, it was anyway.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 9, 2009 Decided to drop French for German since I heard it’s supposed to be the easiest language for a native English speaker to learn because it’s structured a lot like English. Sure enough, it really is pretty easy! Some words are a bit tough to pronounce, but you can get used to them. I’m already 25% through German 101 with a score of 93%. I know I have a knack for languages anyway, but that’s still not bad for my first non-romance language!

Although they have gender words like romance languages, they’re not “backward.” You know how we say, “I am not young,” while in Spanish it equates to “I no is young?” Well, they put the “I am” or “you are” before the “not” as well. It seems they capitalize the first letters of all nouns, though.

Anyway, French was just kind of ugly for me. German’s ugly too, but it’s different, and I partially disagree with those who say French is the hardest romance language. I think it’s the hardest to speak and to hear, but I think Italian has the toughest grammar.

Well, I’ve turned into a regular little workaholic working 7 days a week and you could definitely say I’m quite dedicated. Tom thinks I work too hard, though I always make sure I still have a life and that I don’t neglect other things that need to be done. The only thing I’ve been neglecting is my writing/proofreading, but that’s not a necessity, so it’s ok. Not a whole lotta jobs coming in today, so I’m doing some proofreading and I might work on my stories, too.

I also decided not to bother with AdSense until and if we have a website of our own. If we do, then I’ll throw it on whatever sites I use that’ll let me, like Blogger. It’s definitely not worth paying LJ $20 for, especially since I don’t need the features that come with upgrading. So which journal will I use? I guess I’ll stick with LJ’s free journal for now. Maybe sometimes I’ll copy stuff to other places, but LJ will be the main journal for now.

The check came today and we even have a pretty decent cushion for the first time in quite a while. Tom could even get his Mac back now, but we decided to wait till next month. It’ll only cost $10 extra. Yes, after a long stressful year of getting nowhere, things definitely do seem to be improving. I hope it stays that way, too!

But Mary’s life got worse. I hope I hear from her soon, but I can understand that she’s going to be depressed for a while.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve had intermittent cramps and ache-like pains mostly on the left side of my chest. For the most part, I’m not sure what the hell it could be, but something happened the other day that now has me wondering if maybe there really is something wrong with my heart, as hard as it is to believe. I know it’s not impossible and that it does run in my family, but I’m still fairly young and super fit. And while I may not be thin, I’m not fat either. Especially for my age. What happened was I had some cramps that sort of pulsated on and off. Then they stopped for a while. But then later on I was startled by what I thought was a huge spider and the instant my heart started racing, the cramps returned.

Nothing from Eileen since we first spoke. I don’t know her or exactly what’s going on in her life, but I realize she might’ve been spooked by my journals if she read them. I even considered taking the links off Facebook, but then decided not to. I’m not going to change my life for anyone, and anyone who may be spooked by them or anything else about me shouldn’t be a friend of mine, not that the idea is to be her friend or stay in touch anyway. Don’t get me wrong; she’s still welcome to contact me and I might say hello from time to time myself, but the main point was to a) find out who she was. And b) thank her for caring. Even so, I’m kind of shocked she wasn’t as delighted and as flattered as I’d think she’d be at all the time and effort I put into finding her.

As for Gregg, I asked him if he’s checked out my journals, saying I was curious as to who on Facebook may take the time to check them out. I never got an answer, which makes me think the answer is probably, “Yes, and I don’t want to be put on the spot with any questions about what I think of them.”

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 8, 2009 Nothing from Eileen since we first messaged each other, and she still hasn’t accepted my friend request. Hmmm… could she be spooked by my journal? Something else? Something that has nothing to do with me? Either way, it’s like, gee, thanks. I put all these years and all this work into finding you and you’re like, yeah, so? So what?

Not that I regret finding her and settling my curiosity as to who she is and what her life has been like, but it looks like my sensors were right on as usual when I said I sensed a lack of mutual excitement over reuniting. Oh well. I’ll send one more message saying hello towards the end of the month and then that’s it. I don’t want to bother with her if she doesn’t want to bother with me.

Got a friend request on Facebook from a mutual “friend” of ours. We have two mutual friends, actually, and that’d be those two people whose emails and IPs trace to Mountain View, CA. Sure enough, while this one’s profile looks legit, its email also traces to Mountain View. It’ll be interesting to see just what they’re up to.

It just seems really strange that I get friended by strangers while Eileen hasn’t accepted my friend invite.

Later…

No unemployment check today, but we’re not worried since Margaret, at the UPS Store, said that others hadn’t gotten their checks either. We mail the forms right over to Sacramento, but the checks themselves come up from San Bernardino. Besides, I haven’t had any bad dreams.

No letters or samples today, but I got that pendant I won. It’s just so-so. Kind of hard to see any detail because it’s so small, and lacking in color.

Best of all, I got my first check from InboxDollars and Tom found a more convenient check-cashing place, so we still got plenty of stuff to hold us over till tomorrow, not that we were completely out of food.

Today’s the opposite of yesterday on MT; not many jobs coming in. But if it can be this good during the worst economic times that I’ve ever seen, I can just imagine how much better it’ll be when the economy is better and there are more jobs and fewer people around to steal them from me! It’s so cool to see my money grow throughout the day and or night, depending on when I’m awake and available to work. I do as much as I can whenever I can. I love working from home! No need to worry about transportation, gas, etc.

For now, Tom, who’s still hopeful for an outside job, decided to use what he earns towards paying the phone/net bill while I get various things we could use around here and maybe even a few goodies mixed in. I want to get the rats a new water bottle first. This old roller bottle sucks and it’s too small. Super-sized rats like these go through 8-oz. bottles in no time. I’m going to get a top-loading swivel spout bottle like the one we had for years before it broke.

Not much else to say. The days are toasty warm, the early mornings chillier than I’d like. I wish it could always be June!

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 7, 2009 Been going nonstop since I got up about 8 hours ago that I didn’t think I was going to get to make an entry today. Yeah, they really threw the work at me today on MT! Part of the contract in working for them means you can’t discuss the jobs, so I won’t discuss the actual jobs themselves. I don’t know why they have this rule since anyone can sign up to be a worker there. You just have to be over 18 and not have any felonies on your record. Once that’s established, you’re in!

I’ve got $20 made so far and about $25 in pending jobs. Yesterday there weren’t many jobs, but today there were tons of them. I was worried I wasn’t going to get enough work, but I’m still pretty sure I’ll make $200 - $300 a month there. I currently have 577 jobs submitted, 442 approved, 17 rejected and 118 pending.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 6, 2009 Lost a total of 30 pounds since my highest high that I know of which was 151 pounds, and am back to 121 pounds.

I exchanged a few messages with Eileen last night. She was perfectly polite and friendly, but I didn’t sense the same eagerness about hearing from me as I felt over finding her. IDK, I just would’ve thought she’d be more excited. Who knows, maybe she was. You can’t hear tones or see facial expressions online, so who knows? This is just something I sensed.

Anyway, she simply told me that she did remember me and thanked me for considering her to have been a kind person. She’s 58 now with 3 grown kids and 1 grandchild. She asked what was up with me and I gave her the highlights within a few paragraphs.

She hasn’t accepted my friend request yet, but that’s up to her. If I never heard from her again I’d be ok with at least knowing that I accomplished my main goal which was to find and thank her. Anything more is just a bonus.

I did get a friend request from a fellow camp group member, and a message from Gregg saying it was his pleasure to have been able to help me after I thanked him for his help. He says he loves that kind of detective work. I was glad to hear that as I was worried I was burdening him.

Wow, California has definitely been the “state of reunion” for me, even if there were a few unwanted attempts to reunite with me along the way.

I spoke to my folks yesterday and I’m both glad and not so glad I bothered to call, as I knew they’d bring up the shit with Tammy and her brood. I was about to just call it quits and hang up when my dad insisted, all the while my mom’s attitude was like fine-go-ahead, that they weren’t blaming me only. Well, that’s nice that they recognize that I’m not the only one who did things she shouldn’t have, but they almost made me feel like a kid being scolded all over again. I understand where they’re coming from, but still, I don’t need this shit in my life. It’s easy to tell myself, “Just walk away. Just wash your hands clean of all of them just like you did 10 years ago. You got along fine without them and you know you don’t want/need any negative people in your life or people you simply don’t care for.”

But it’s not that easy what with how much I appreciate their saving us like they did, and all the nice stuff they sent. Stuff is just stuff, I know, and it’s not a ticket for them to aggravate me, but because it was a minor thing where they just wanted to ensure that I won’t contact Tammy, I will keep in touch for now. Besides, it’s not like these people have many years left to live in the first place, and as I assured them, ignoring Tammy and company is my pleasure. Even if they sent a million messages a day I could just ignore them. If they lived a few feet away from us, they could make me pay attention to them, but they don’t. Those people can never hurt or control me ever again. None of them can. I will never see them again and the only ones I’ll talk to are my folks, and without others in the mix to start the he-said, she-said bullshit and come between us, we should be able to get along. This won’t stop Tammy from telling them things in my journal that I might not necessarily tell them myself which they may not agree with (like looking up personal info on people, posting the message about Valleyhead, finding Eileen), but as long as they don’t get pushy, controlling or demanding in any way, I’m ok with keeping in touch with them. And I’d say Tammy definitely mentioned Valleyhead and camp to them because of the way Dad worded things when he said, “That’s what you do. You look up people and places.” Well, I’ve never mentioned places to them in past letters, just info on various people like when Al M died and shit like that.

Meanwhile, things just aren’t the same and I doubt they ever will be again. My folks almost sounded cold, especially my mother. Like talking to me was a chore that they simply felt obligated to do because they’re my parents. I’m not saying they don’t care about what’s going on with us and that they don’t wish us the best, but well, it’s like we’re strangers in a way. Then again, I think we always have been, haven’t we?

Anyway, my folks are ok. They said they’ve never seen a recession this bad in their lives and that they can’t even save. And what they do save has to go to doctors. I’m sure their definition of saving is different than mine, though. We’re so broke that a savings of $20 is a luxury to us.

We have 6 old CRT monitors and Tom brought two of them to the recycling center today, planning to eventually take two more in, then keep a couple as a backup. Well, it’s a good thing he didn’t bring them all in today as the one he was using burned out, so he’s using one of the backups till he can get his Mac back.

I learned an easier way to peel bananas. You usually peel them from the stem, but if you turn the banana around and pinch the very ends of it, it peels much easier. It’s how monkeys do it.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 5, 2009 I have some pretty exciting news! I not only got the name I’ve been looking for but made contact, too! Yay! Her name is Eileen.

I got up this morning and found a message from Gregg, saying that one of their alums gave him the names of the unit heads from 1976 and that they vaguely remember Eileen having a dog.

Someone else said she married a counselor there.

So now I had a name. A much more likely name than ever before.

But then I ran her name and got more hits than I knew what to do with. Especially without an exact age and knowing what state she currently resides in.

Then someone named Becky was kind enough to leave a message on the reunion site saying she vaguely remembers a Jodi being in her cabin, but she couldn’t picture her and didn’t remember anyone getting kicked out. Also, there was a unit head around that time who had a dog named Sidney, who fit the description I gave of the unit head.

For some reason, the dog’s name seemed more familiar as opposed to the name Eileen. So I sent Becky a PM, thanked her for her input, described myself, and gave her my photo albums link in case seeing me would help her remember anything more since I have had pictures throughout all my life there. Then, to see if Becky remembered anything else I told her the only other real memory I have of being in the cabin and that would – uh – that would be stealing some other girl’s barrette! I told her that my bunk was on the front wall of the cabin, maybe 3-4 bunks from the sidewall heading away from the door. In the next bunk to the right, closer to the wall, was a girl whose long hair I was jealous of because my mom wouldn’t let me grow mine much longer than the middle of my back. I don’t remember anyone’s names, but anyway, she had a large brown hair barrette and a colored one as well. Being the little devil that I was at the time, I stole one of them. Yeah, I wasn’t a very nice kid, LOL, though as I told Becky, I’d be happy to replace it now!

Becky told me the name of that girl and that seemed familiar, too. Then she sent me an email saying she’d Googled Eileen’s name and provided me with a link that had a photo which she was pretty sure was Eileen. It was a picture at an education site showing her, her daughter, granddaughter and mother. Without seeing a better picture taken from around the time I last saw her, I wouldn’t be able to look at it and go, “Oh, yeah, that’s definitely her!”

We seem to have a couple of things in common from what the article said, like writing and languages. I guess she spent some time in Denmark and learned the language. She seems to be mostly into business-related stuff, though, and has kids. When I looked her up on MySpace she came up as single, though the article spoke of her as married and it’s only a year old, so I don’t know if she’s still married or not. She seems to have done quite well for herself over the years and has led a very busy and productive life.

Had someone told me in Phoenix when my first attempt to locate her came to a dead-end that some guy in Georgia would help me find her 14 years later while I lived in California of all places, I’d have laughed my ass off!

This entry is getting way too long and so I’ll finish the story tomorrow. I’ll just sign off by saying that Brandy and the puppy came down today and this time it wasn’t quietly. The puppy barked just outside the porch. Tom said he thinks something happened to scare it, but I think it was playing. It not only distracted me from my work, but it really startled me. So I called up to let Jesse know his dogs were loose. Damn, I wish that guy would keep his dogs to himself! This is the whole reason we came out here; to try and finally escape this shit.

Up to $11.59 now on MT, but I’m afraid there are not going to be as many jobs as I hoped there would be. I’m also still owed about $20 in pending payments.

Oh, I keep forgetting to mention this and then I’ll sign off – I apparently scared off whoever the hell that really was that contacted me on FB claiming to be from outside of Thailand. I don’t know what their motives were, but when I confronted them with the fact that I ran their email and found them to be just 134 miles from here in a place called Mountain View, I never heard from them again.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2009 Wow, no barking yet, though I’ve only been up an hour. I’m impressed. It’s their kind of barking weather, though certainly not mine. At this moment it’s 46º. And people think California’s always warm and sunny – haha! Every night from here on out till March I’ll be dreaming of Florida.

Today’s my 12th quit-smoking anniversary! I can just imagine the money I’ve saved over the years. I don’t think I’d be alive today if I hadn’t quit, but in the end, I didn’t have much choice. Sometimes things have to get to the do-or-die stage before change occurs.

My weight works as mysteriously as God. Yesterday I took the day off from both diet and exercise, slammed on a good 2000 calories or so of whatever, and woke up this morning to find I’d lost a pound. I can also imagine all the weight I’d lose – and how quickly – if I could only discipline myself with the diet part as well as I can with the exercise part. If not, I’ll forever bounce between 122-124 pounds.

Work has slowed down over the weekend as few requesters are around to pay the workers for their tasks. The good news, though, is that I think I can make closer to $10 a day if I do 60-70 jobs a day. It’s hard to tell exactly what I’ve made each day until all pending jobs are paid for, and of course I expect a few here and there to stiff me. After a week of not receiving payment, I’ll jot the names down of those people/companies and make sure I never do any other jobs for them again.

I won a fairy pendant from that doll company. I asked them what it was I won. I didn’t want them sending me crap I’d feel almost insulted to “win” and embarrassed for whoever made it like in Oregon. I saw a picture of it and it’s not too bad at all.

What should I do now? I think I’ll try to get my sister sent to jail for defending me when I lived back in S. Deerfield in 1991 and the Northampton Crisis Center insisted I killed my dad in 1984 (yeah, they had my files mixed up with someone else’s, alright!). But who the hell was she to get involved? After all, I was only her little sister. Shame on her for trying to stick up for me. She should’ve never given a damn, right? Right?

I’m 19% through French 101 with a score of 95%. So far it’s both harder and easier than expected. The grammar’s not too bad, but it’s going to take a long time to get used to hearing/speaking it. It’s kinda ugly. Usually, it’s the other way around and the grammar is the hardest part for me. It sounds so different than Spanish and Italian and even Portuguese, too. But when you’ve been hearing Spanish every day for two decades as opposed to French, it’s no wonder French sounds weird.

J’ai froid (I am cold)!

Since there’s less work today, I guess that means more entries from me on weekends.

The dogs are still quiet and I can’t help but wonder, would they be this quiet if Jesse wasn’t home? I’m afraid I would not like the answer to that question!

I suppose it’s a waste of time to try to figure people out, but I just don’t get them when it comes to defending them. They crucify you if you do stick up for them, and they crucify you if you don’t. They’re never happy no matter what!

Later…

The cold is making my ear act up. Anyway, it’s just after 8am which means Jesse will be taking off anytime between now and noon. It’ll be interesting to see how the dogs are then, though it should be warming up fast as it usually does in dry climates. Then again, it’s only supposed to get up to 65º. It will be back in the upper 70s next week.

The more I work at MT, the more I can see the possibility of making closer to $10 a day. I wish he’d hurry the hell up and get up already, so he can set me up to do transcriptions that pay more. We read the tutorials and style guides yesterday. I may be bad at a lot of things, but if there’s one thing I’m good at it’s typing.

So they say the new and historical insurance plan is to cover dental and vision, but I’ll believe it when and if I see it. I’m just glad they’re keeping the illegals out of it. That would’ve really driven the population up worse than China! Besides, I hate to give things unless it’s something I don’t want anyway. That’s another human trait I don’t get besides forgiveness. Why would people want to be giving any more than forgiving? Giving is how you get taken advantage of. Forgiving is how you get screwed over again. So no, I’ll never hold a grudge against Lisa for immaturely attacking me like that without politely and calmly asking me about what I did or didn’t say to my dad in an adult manner, but I’ll never forgive her. Why? So she can attack me again without giving me a chance to explain or defend myself? Sorry, but at nearly 44 years of age, I’m not obligated to explain or defend myself to anyone.

The sick neighbors we had didn’t allow me the luxury of ignoring them for 7 years, and this has only made me more determined to cut those of negative influence out of my life. I may not be able to destroy their memories. I may write about them from time to time. But they will never ever again get the chance to victimize, abuse, use or just plain annoy the hell out of me ever again. Not if I can help it! I’m sure my sister would deem that as “threatening” if she reads this too, hahaha!

Still haven’t decided on AdSense yet or if I’m going to continue journaling. I kind of like journaling where I can have some say in who comments about it. If KB really does have those controls included with 3.0 once they launch it, I might return there. It’s easier to choose the colors from their drop-down menu, but here I have to import them.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 3, 2009 Yesterday morning there was some barking. Nothing maddening, but I can see how it’s going to get there the cooler the weather gets. Tom doesn’t think they’ll be a problem this winter because Brandy and Whiskey are older and the puppy will learn from them and follow their behavior. Yeah, that’s my optimistic hubby for ya! Brandy (I think it was her) just went off for a few seconds yet it’s the weekend and Jesse should be home. I hope she woke him up!

There she goes again. Great. Just great. So much for hoping it wouldn’t start up till next month! I’ll put the sound machine on so I can concentrate on my work. I’ll be working more today than yesterday because I need to give myself a day off from working out. My legs are like logs!

I almost met my $5-a-day goal yesterday. I made $4.48 that I know of. Meaning that there are several other jobs I did yesterday that are still pending. It usually takes a few days to receive payment. Once everything’s all paid, I should total around $20, plus whatever I make today. Our goal is to make at least $300 a month in extra money between the two of us.

They reactivated my Facebook account yesterday.

I’m going to give my folks a call, probably at the beginning of next week right after 5pm my time when I know they’re likely to be home, but not yet asleep.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 2, 2009 Yay, just 999 days to go till he turns 55 and we can hopefully – hopefully – get the ball rolling towards getting a house in a senior community!

Meanwhile, I’ve been working and winning. Yep, I did say winning. From 2005 to early 2008 I won nearly 20K worth of stuff. Then it all stopped right along with the economy. I’m still not sweeping regularly, but I got a win notice from a doll company saying I was their monthly winner. Apparently, if you’ve subscribed to their newsletter, you’re automatically entered into their monthly contests. I once won from them up in Oregon, but you don’t always get dolls. If I remember correctly, I got some stupid handmade craft that looked like a two-year-old made. Watch, now that I’ve quit collecting dolls, it will be a doll!

We decided to set me up with an account on MT, so now we’re both workers there. I did 27 jobs in just a couple of hours and made a few bucks. I can see where we could easily make 3-5 hundred a month doing this! Eventually, I’ll do some transcriptions. That’s where the real money is.

It’s so nice to be working and making money, even if it’s not a lot! After the hell we’ve been through, getting “rich” and having “tons” of extra money no longer is a top priority for us. Of course we’d take millions of dollars if we could. We’re only human. Yet while extra money may be nice, as long as we can pay for our necessities, that’s plenty good enough for us.

I’ve been wanting a home job that’d pay a significant amount and not just a few bucks here and a few bucks there for so long now. Working at home I don’t have to worry about schedules, transportation, uniforms, or any evil coworkers/bosses.

I decided to spend the first few hours of my day doing everything else I usually do, then the rest of the day will be devoted to working. Of course I’ll take breaks to eat, exercise, run errands, etc.

Still haven’t decided if I want to do AdSense yet. Off to work now!

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 1, 2009 I realized that what my sister did really put a complex on me and could stop me from helping those who truly want to be helped in the future. About a decade ago I was harshly reminded that you not only can’t help those who don’t want help, but they can turn on you, too. Not just refuse your help, but literally spite you for trying to help. Because of this, I had to ask myself this: If I saw a guy abusing some woman somewhere, would I have the guts to try to help her? Or would I be paranoid that she would tell the cops when they arrived that I was the one trying to attack her or something like that?

I hope I won’t ever have to find out!

She once said I deserved it when I told her Ron once slapped me. This was back in the mid-80s. Can you believe it? “You deserve it,” she told me.

Yet I, along with any other sane, rational human being, know that no one deserves to be slapped. No one. If they’re not trying to harm you, your loved ones, or your property, no one deserves to be handled that way. Violence is not love. Although I threw the bastard out before I could take a hammer to his head in his sleep, her telling me that probably hurt me more than his slap. I was only around 21 at the time.

We’re looking for a site like MT that I could work at. I should be started with something somewhere within a day or two. Tom thinks I’d be best at jobs that involve writing, LOL, obviously. Oh, and I went back and re-read that chick’s message. She hasn’t been on the MT for 2 years but for 2 months.

I still can’t believe the judge fucked over Mary by reneging on the deal. Then again, I can. When you are the law, you can make it or break it at will. I don’t get how they expect people to testify if they keep backing out of the deals they make, though. Oh well, hopefully the asshole will get hit by a bus or something.

[seair]

India’s Fruit Import Market: Trends, Opportunities, and Key Insights

India is among the largest consumers of tropical and exotic fruits like bananas, mangoes, kiwis, and pomegranates. These fruits are highly sought after both domestically and internationally. Whether you are interested in importing fruits into India or simply curious about the most profitable fruits, understanding the country’s fruit import landscape is essential.

In this article, we’ll explore India’s fruit market, the most imported fruits, top importers, and the overall trends driving the sector's growth.

India's Fruit Industry: Market Overview and Emerging Trends

Market Size and Growth Projections

India’s fresh fruit market is projected to grow steadily over the next several years. From 2024 to 2029, the market is expected to expand at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 7.58%, reaching a value of $115.9 billion. As the second-largest producer of fruits and vegetables globally (after China), India produced an impressive 112.62 million metric tons of fruit and 204.96 million metric tons of vegetables in 2023-24.

Key Factors Fueling Growth

India’s growing fruit market is supported by several critical factors, including the country’s diverse climate, its rich agricultural heritage, and increased investments in the agricultural sector. The rise in demand for fresh and processed fruit products, coupled with a heightened focus on healthy eating habits, also contributes to the expansion of the fruit industry.

Fruit Imports in India: 2023-24 Analysis

Current Import Trends

In the fiscal year 2023-24, fruits import in India reached notable figures. India imported 59.3 thousand metric tons of fresh fruits, with 1,051 Indian importers sourcing fruits from 2,581 foreign suppliers. Over 12 months, the total number of fresh fruit shipments amounted to 114,698, and the market saw a year-over-year growth rate of 13%.

However, February 2024 saw a decline in imports, with 761 shipments representing a year-over-year drop of 23%. Sequentially, imports decreased by 15% from January to February 2024. Despite this temporary decline, the overall fruit import market in India remains strong, with significant import activity from countries like Chile, Vietnam, and Thailand.

Top Fruit Importing Countries

India ranks as one of the world’s top importers of fresh fruit, along with Morocco and France. These three countries lead the global market in fruit imports, with India bringing in 114,698 shipments, followed by Morocco with 113,212, and France with 69,064.

Most Imported Fruits in India

India imports a wide variety of fruits from around the world. Here are some of the most popular ones:

Apples

Apples are the top imported fruit in India, accounting for approximately 60% of all fresh fruit imports. They are sourced from countries like Chile, Italy, and the United States and are widely consumed across the country.

Kiwis

Kiwis, with their green flesh and fuzzy skin, have become increasingly popular in India. These fruits are mainly imported from New Zealand and have been a staple in Indian households for over a decade.

Grapes

India imports grapes in various colors, including green, red, and black. These imported grapes are known for their superior taste and are sourced from multiple countries, contributing to India’s growing demand for high-quality fruits.

Bananas

In 2023, India imported bananas worth $49.8k. The main suppliers include the United Arab Emirates, Brazil, Thailand, Morocco, and Oman. While India is one of the world’s largest producers of bananas, imports supplement the domestic supply.

Pears and Oranges

Other commonly imported fruits include pears and oranges, both of which are sourced alongside kiwis, apples, and grapes. These fruits are widely consumed in India and are part of the country’s diversified fruit import portfolio.

Key Destinations for Fresh Fruit Imports in India

India imports fresh fruits from a wide range of countries. The primary destinations for fruit imports are:

Iran

Turkey

Chile

United Arab Emirates

Italy

New Zealand

Brazil

Afghanistan

Poland

Other important markets include Bangladesh, Nepal, Malaysia, the Netherlands, Sri Lanka, the United Kingdom, Qatar, Oman, and Iraq. Indian importers also tap into these regions to meet the growing domestic demand for fresh fruits.

Leading Fruit Importers in India

Several companies dominate the fruit import business in India. Some of the top fresh fruit importers include:

IG International

Freshfruitalliances

NGK Trading Company

Freshos Enterprise

Aayush Impex

Suri Agro Fresh

G T Fruitech

Gajumal Mulchand Fruit Pvt Ltd

Anusaya Fresh

Spotless Fruits India

These fruit importers in India are responsible for importing high-quality fruits from all over the world, ensuring that Indian consumers have access to a wide range of fresh and exotic fruits. For more information about specific importers and their trade data, platforms like Seair Exim Solutions provide updated lists and insights.

How to Import Fresh Fruits into India

Importing fresh fruits into India has become a significant industry over the last decade. If you are looking to enter this market, here are the key steps to follow:

APEDA Registration

To import fruits into India, you must register with the Agricultural and Processed Food Products Export Development Authority (APEDA). This registration allows you to obtain an importer's code and gain access to various import incentives.

Comply with Legal Requirements

Ensure compliance with the necessary legal requirements, such as obtaining a phytosanitary certificate, certificate of origin, and certificate of analysis. These documents are essential to meet the regulations for importing fruits into India.

Find Reliable Suppliers

You can find global suppliers through platforms like Seair Exim Solutions, which provides a comprehensive list of fresh fruit exporters and importers. This platform helps you connect with potential suppliers and buyers, streamlining the import process.

Choose the Best Mode of Transport

Fresh fruits are perishable, so selecting the right mode of transport is crucial. Options include refrigerated containers for sea, land, or air transport, depending on your supply chain needs and timelines.

Explore Trade Data

Use platforms like Seair Exim Solutions to access detailed fruit import data, which can provide valuable market insights and help you make informed decisions about your imports.

Conclusion

India’s fruit import market is poised for substantial growth in the coming years, driven by rising demand for fresh and exotic fruits. With a robust network of suppliers and importers, India is well-positioned to continue as a major player in the global fruit trade. By understanding the trends, key players, and steps involved in importing fruits, businesses can capitalize on this booming market and contribute to the country’s evolving food industry.

[ailtrahq]

Shiba Inu’s Shibarium has gained traction in the month following its launch, as the adoption of the Ethereum layer-2 solution seems to be growing at an impressive rate. However, while Shibarium seems to be doing well, this hasn’t really translated into a steady growth in the price of SHIB, leading to sporadic FUD and concerns from the project.  In response to these growing concerns, Lucie, a prominent member of Shiba Inu’s development team and content marketer, took to social media platform X to calm the waters. Quieting The Storm In the tweet, Lucie noted that she had received many direct messages from concerned community members concerning Shiba Inu. But Lucie assured the community that these are mostly propelled by SHIB pessimists looking to promote their projects. She explained that there is no reason to be concerned, given that volatile market conditions are inevitable in the cryptocurrency industry.  I’m tweeting from my vacation because I’ve received numerous DMs from concerned individuals wondering if something is amiss amidst all the FUD… Relax, folks. There’s no need to worry. The market is the market, and FUD is just a bunch of desperate losers attempting to peddle… — 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐄 | ✨Shibarium✨ (@LucieSHIB) September 15, 2023 Shibarium’s launch did wonders for the price of SHIB, as many investors started accumulating tokens in anticipation of what the new scaling solution would offer. This led to gains in SHIB’s market cap, propelling it to the 14th largest crypto in market capitalization. This enthusiasm has now waned, as SHIB is now down 13% in a monthly timeframe and has slipped down to 17th in the market cap rankings. In response to this waning enthusiasm, Lucie employed the SHIB Army ecosystem to stay focused on SHIB’s upcoming bull run.  “$SHIB is strategically positioning itself for the upcoming bull run,” the tweet said. “Bone will recover once Shibarium is established, and we’ll focus on serious projects, not quick pumps and dumps.”  What’s Next For The Shiba Inu Ecosystem? Things are calm at the moment for Shiba Inu in terms of price action. At the time of writing, SHIB is trading at $0.00000726. However, updates from Shiba Inu’s development team have hinted at constant workings behind the scenes and a few ongoing projects.  According to data from Shibariumscan, Shibarium is also living up to expectations. The layer-2 solution is now at 1.24 million wallet addresses and edging close to three million total transactions. Shibarium also recently marked a new milestone as it is now home to an Italy-based fast food franchise Welly which recently launched on the Shibarium blockchain. The move hopes to leverage Shibarium’s blockchain technology to manage the restaurant’s operations, customer loyalty, and food-based incentives. The Web3 restaurant will operate in Naples, Italy, and hopes to expand its operations with the backing of the SHIB community and the Shibarium blockchain. SHIB price trending at $0.00000728 | Source: SHIBUSD on Tradingview.com Source

[tobinheath]

.

[vinvantae]

Baby Steps

Part 6/26

<<< Previous Part

Rating - Mature

Warnings - Explicit language, mentions of sex, alcohol

***************************************************

The team cheered as Lando raced across the line in 4th place - you put on a smile because you knew cameras were around but you felt disappointed when Daniel came around the corner almost 20 seconds later in 7th. You’d hoped he’d gain several places during the race but it just hadn’t happened and you knew he’d be disappointed.

You and the team made your way across the pitlane to say congrats to the boys, Mercedes cheering loud as Lewis had nailed the first race of the season. The Brit in question grinned when he took his helmet off, coming over to you after his post race interview.

“Hey! Good job today.” He never had a mean word to say about anyone, it’s why you felt comfortable around him.

“You absolutely smashed it, Lewis. I’m proud of you.” You giggled softly as he wrapped his arms around you in a hug. “Keep this up and that’s an eighth world title.”

He always smelt so good, even post race. “Oh you bet. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

You nodded and smiled fondly as he moved away, missing the way Dan had seen the whole interaction. He knew you and Lewis were friends but he’d never really seen you talk much before - and the way he so easily swept you up into a hug made him jealous. Lewis was quite undoubtedly one of the best looking drivers on the grid, so seeing the way you let him hold you made the Australian’s jaw clench a little.

The two of you had spent a good chunk of the evening last night laughing at having a good time, being friends but he still couldn’t help but feel envious that there were other people you trusted more. But then your eyes landed on the Australian and he could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat, you looked so fond.

“Daniel!” You beckoned him over. “I’m sorry about the race.”

“Hey hey. Still a points finish.” He draped an arm across your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze. “I think it’s a decent start to the season, especially with Lando in fourth. Imola next though!”

“I love Imola.” You hummed, leaning into his hold a little. “Gotta get everything packed away before we go. Make sure you get lots of rest, okay?”

You slipped out from underneath his arm and head inside the garage, giving him one more kind smile. The team was buzzing with energy as they moved around the paddock, getting as much tidied away before the big moves were made tomorrow. Your focus was mostly on the electronic side, making sure all of the race data was saved and backed up onto multiple hard drives. You did miss some of the more physical engineering work but the strategy was a lot easier on you.

The sitter stayed with Milo until late into the evening, he was asleep by the time you made it back to the hotel - your body heavy with fatigue as you thanked her and closed the door as she left. It barely felt like you’d closed your eyes before your alarm went off in the morning. A soft groan left your lips as you rolled over to turn it off.

“Morning, Mummy.”

You looked over to see Milo sat up in his bed, doing some colouring in. “Morning, jellybean. You’re up early, why didn’t you wake me?”

“You looked tired.” He shrugged a little. “How was race?”

“Not too bad. Daniel came in 7th, Lando 4th.” You smiled softly, climbing out of bed to go give him a cuddle. “Wanna come to the next race? We’ll be going to Italy in a couple of days.”

“Yes please! I can wear my new Daniel shirt!” He grinned, wrapping his arms around you.

You chuckled softly. “Yes you can. You okay to stay with the sitter again today? It’ll be a little boring at work today, lots of packing the kit away.”

“Can we go to a park or something?”

“I’ll ask her when she gets here.”

The pair of you got ready for the day and with one last kiss to the forehead and a soft exchange of ‘I love you’s’, you headed off to work. Far less put together than you would be during the actual race weekend when cameras were around. Today was just about getting everything ready to move as quickly as possible so it would be in Italy for the race in 2 weeks.

You were greeted at the paddock gates by Carlos with a large hot drink and a hug to start your day.

“Good race yesterday.” You smiled softly, taking a sip of your drink as the two of you head towards the office buildings.

“Could have been better, Lando did a very good job.” He hummed softly. “Fancy grabbing breakfast with me before you start?”

You checked your watch. “I’ve got some time.”

“Perfect.”

You followed him into the Ferrari building and straight up to his driver’s room - trying not to draw too much attention to yourself in your McLaren uniform, the bright orange making it a little difficult - as you rounded the corner you bumped directly into Charles who raised a brow at the pair of you. “Good morning.”

“Hi, I’m just here for breakfast, not spying I swear.” You held your hands up defensively.

The driver’s lips curved into a handsome smirk. “I should join you, just be on the safe side.”

“Y-yeah, of course.”

The Monagasque followed you both into Carlos’ room, you weren’t sure what his motives were but you couldn’t exactly say no - you were on his turf after all. He was a nice boy and Carlos seemed to get on well with him so you’d give him the time of day. He did make you a little nervous, he was undoubtedly one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen so it was intimidating. The Spaniard, completely oblivious, opened up the fridge and got out the ingredients for breakfast sandwiches.

You and Charles sat on the sofa as Carlos got to work whipping up some food. The Ferrari driver closest to you sat up so he could get a good look at you. “So, y/n, didn’t want to join us at Ferrari?”

“Why would I leave McLaren to join a team who came 6th in the constructors last year?”

Charles clutched his hand over his heart. “Right where it hurts. You’ll be regretting that by the end of the year.”

“Mhmm hmm, sure.” You laughed softly. “Besides, as much as I love Carlos, McLaren is my family. I couldn’t jump ship… and I mean, you were around in 2018.”

Your eyes flickered across Charles’ face, hoping he remembered the year as well as you did so you didn’t have to remind him. He pressed his lips into a tight line and nodded. “Yeah, that. I’m surprised you stuck around at all.”

“Still love my work. Got a kid to raise so I need a job.”

Before the driver could get any further down the memory lane less travelled, Carlos swanned across the room and passed the sandwiches to you both. You didn’t have too much time to dwell on the past after that - the next two weeks were jam packed full of packing, strategy meetings and taking care of Milo. Who had decided that for the weekend in Imola, he wanted to make his own custom Danny Ric shirt.

The two of you sat in a quiet area of the Imola paddock with a white shirt splayed out on the ground and little tubs of fabric paint around it. Milo had a toddler size cap on his head to protect him from the sun as he started decorating the fabric. You sat beside him making a shirt of your own - mostly for something to do for the day but also because it was fun. You didn’t get to express your creative side often.

You decided to go for a badger in a honey pot, mostly because you didn’t think you could paint an actual honey badger - so a pun would do. Milo’s shirt was covered in the number 3 in different colours and sizes.

“That looks really good, jellybean.” You chuckled softly, wiping some paint off of his cheek. “I think everyone’s gonna want one of those.”

“I know I definitely do.”

You lifted your gaze, using your hand to block the sun from shining directly into your eyes, to see Daniel stood over you both with a playful smile on his face. He crouched down in front of Milo.

“Little man! That looks so cool! Reckon you can make me one?”

Milo’s eyes went wide before he nodded eagerly. “Yes! Mummy! Need another shirt please for Daniel!”

“Do you mind watching him for a second?” You not only surprised Daniel but you surprised yourself with how you already trusted him enough to leave your son alone with him.

“Not at all! You know I love the little guy.”

You gave Milo a kiss on the forehead before you head towards the McLaren building, leaving the driver alone with the toddler for the first time. Milo didn’t even seem phased and carried on decorating his shirt, paint all over his little hands but somehow he wasn’t getting any on the shirt that he didn’t want to be there.

Dan smiled softly. “Your Mummy is a very nice lady.”

“Yeah! She’s the best!” He beamed. “She likes you!”

“Oh yeah? He chuckled. “I like her too.”

It was almost like Milo didn’t even need watching, he was so busy painting that he didn’t even notice anything going on around him. Dan could see your features in him - his smile, the shape of his nose. He wasn’t your spitting image but he definitely was your boy. His eyes were the polar opposite to yours, and they almost seemed familiar to the Australian but he couldn’t place them.

When you returned the way Milo’s little face lit up was truly a picture - there was nothing like the bond between a mum and her child. You looked at him like he was the most special being on earth and he looked at you just the same. He’d always wanted a kid of his own, but had never settled down with a girl for long enough to consider it.

“Here we are, a shirt for Daniel.” You laid the top on the floor, a piece of cardboard wedged inside of it so the paint didn’t seep all the way through.

The two of you sat around quietly enjoying the sun whilst Milo painted. Your eyes were closed as you let the warmth wash over you - you didn’t have any work that needed doing until tomorrow so you were glad to be able to spend the day with Milo. You cracked an eye open as you heard the pair of them giggling, playfully rolling your eyes when you saw a toddler-shaped paint handprint on Daniel’s cheek.

“Milo!” You scolded softly. “Silly boy, why did you paint Daniel?”

“Funny.” He giggled again.

You grabbed your baby wipes out of your bag and passed them to Daniel so he could clean up. You couldn’t help the smile on your face as the driver just smudged the paint around instead of wiping it off.

“C’mere.”

Dan held his breath as you took his jaw in your hand, tilting his face to the side so you could get the paint off of him. Your touch was gentle and warm - your face focused. He knew if you moved your hand just a few centimetres down, you’d be able to feel how fast you made his heart race. He couldn’t look at you because he knew if you made eye contact at this moment he’d just melt into a puddle.

“All done!” You smiled softly, releasing him from your hold, the driver’s heart slowly returning to its normal pace. “We need to find somewhere to hang these so they can dry.”

“You can put them in my room. It’s got windows and if it happens to rain then they’ll stay dry.”

“Amazing.” You carefully picked up the shirts and Dan scooped up Milo, holding him close as the three of you made your way through the paddock to the McLaren building.

Neither of you said much but the quiet was comfortable - it didn’t feel like it needed to be filled with silly small talk. You were a little scared. This wasn’t like it was with Carlos or Lewis; when you were with them, you felt at ease but whilst you felt comfortable with Daniel, you felt nervous, your heart beat faster than usual. You’d promised yourself to stay away from the drivers in any sense other than professional because their job was dangerous and watching them crash was hard enough without having any kind of platonic or romantic feelings towards them.

You dared sneak a glance at Dan and Milo; the toddler had warmed to him so quickly too. You didn’t know what to do - you liked Daniel but you were scared to let him get too close to you and Milo. Your son hadn’t experienced the same heartbreak you had and you wanted to keep it that way.

But if you cut out Daniel then you’d have to do the same to Carlos and that just wasn’t happening. Making human connections with people was normal but the sport you’d chosen to work in was exactly why you liked to keep to yourself.

Instead, you’d just have to try and keep Dan at a sensible arms length and just pray that he stayed safe.

**************************************************

Message me or leave a comment to be added to the tag list! :)

Next Part >>>

@itsmycorneroftheinternet @laura-naruto-fan1998 @marianadj99 @tall-tanned-tattoo @wonderlandofsu @monodreme @theplobnrgone @witchy-whore @gipsyd @feminismisaflawlessbitch @pukklv @walkonthewiidside @reallydeadpoet @shes-unwell-babe @eniram-du @eitak-t @itsbwoken @annejackson10-blog @sraholland @readerselegance @danielricciardo3f1 @ujisworld @withyoutilltheendofthismess @alternativemadchen @sad-fridge2323 @haterpenny @awaterfalls @miahelen @heyitskay-21 @f1thirsttraps @jamieolivia27 @spngi @mpolarisblack @cringe-kats @dudde-44

@letsthedogpackandthecats @stampiej @whatssupeef @lightsoutpierre @cam-blog98 @manuosorioh @sugardontbesweet @lovingroscoee @urthereasonimleaving

And my bestie @reidslefteyebrow

[officebubble]

Ontogenesis

Summary: The journey of a soldier made anew, riddled with the guilt of his past and on a steady path to redemption.

Warnings: Violence, mild language, injury, more warnings as the series progresses.

Word count: 3k

//

Chapter three

Underground bunker, Italy

“What do you mean they took him?!”

The Hydra agents all cower in fear at their commander’s booming voice, fumbling over their words trying to explain the situation and keep him calm. “Avengers, sir, they just took him.”, the commander pinches the bridge of his noise, taking a deep breath.

“How did those incompetent fools take my best soldier? HOW?!", the commander grabs one of the soldiers by his collar, staring into his eyes with a deadly glare, and when the agent claims to not know how they did it, the commander pushes him away, reaching behind his back to pull out a gun and shoot the guy. The other agents step back in fear, eyes drawn to the unmoving man on the ground as the commander speaks.

“Every single one of you will suffer the same fate if you do not find me my soldier, GO!”

Avengers Tower, New York

“His vitals are stable, but he shouldn’t wake for at least another day.”, Doctor Cho states as she removes her gloves, turning to Steve and Natasha as they watch the soldier, his hands and legs securely restrained to a medical bed. Steve wishes they didn’t have to go to such extreme measures, but the guy could wake any minute and start attacking them all, so it needed to be done.

“Did you find anything… irregular about his blood? Any sign of a serum like mine?”, Steve questions.

“Nothing yet but we can’t really do anything other than draw blood and take a few skin samples right now.”

Natasha frowns, “Why not?”

“Well, besides it being illegal because we don’t have consent, if we were going to actually find anything, we’d have to do a full body scan and draw a lot more blood but with his current condition, it wouldn’t be safe. We wouldn’t know what was hurting him or if he was losing too much blood, he appears to heal rather quickly also, and this prevents us from knowing any true damage that’s been done to him in the past. Personally, I think our best bet would be to take a phycological approach first, break down the wall hydra put in his mind and get him to admit what they did.”

Steve nods slowly, thanking the doctor, “I’ll talk to Stark and Banner, see what tests they can run for the mean time but in terms of getting him to talk... I think that might be out of our hands."

//

Upstairs in the living area, the remaining Avengers converse about their super soldier sized issue, pitching in ideas on what to do when he wakes up. Clint has taken to staying silent, claiming he was ‘on a break’ much to the other’s displeasure considering he always saw what they failed to.

“He’s going to wake up wanting to kill us all, even more than he did before, considering we strapped him to a bed.”, Sam adds.

“You never know, he might like that sort of thing.”, Tony smirks, twirling a pen between his fingers.

Everybody throws him unamused glances and he laughs, sitting up, “Lighten up guys, we have him now and there’s no way he’ll escape those restraints, I know because I made them myself.”

Bruce sighs at Tony’s confidence, placing his head in his hands as he thinks, “I wouldn’t be so confident about that, Tony.”

Tony chuckles, frowning, “Why’s that?”

“He hasn’t even woken up yet, for all we know he could tear those cuffs apart like their nothing.”

“That’s a fair observation Brucie, but he won’t. Jarvis will alert us of any movement from him and any jumps in his heart rate and if he gets too rowdy, we’ll sedate him.”

Steve walks in just in time to hear the end of Tony’s sentence, shaking his head, “We can’t keep sedating him, he’s not an animal.”

The room turns to Steve and Natasha as they walk in, catching Steve’s almost disappointed expression.

“How’s he doing?”, Sam asks.

“He’s stable but Cho said we can’t do much for him while he’s out.”, Natasha explains as she takes a seat next to Clint on the couch.

“When’s he going to wake up?”

Steve walks to the kitchen, getting a bottle of water before speaking, “A Day or so, but I want to be ready for when he does.” and with that, he leaves, presumably to the training room.

The team all look to Natasha once he’s out of sight and she frowns, “What?”

Tony voices the reason for their stares, “You can read that guy like a book, what’s he planning?”

Natasha shrugs as she sits up, “I’m not 100 percent sure, but Cho said we’d have to take a phycological approach if we wanted to get any substantial results and Steve claimed that was ‘out of our hands’.”

“Out of our hands? What does that mean?”

Natasha looks to Clint, “Where did he take the last super solider who needed help talking?”

The team sit in silence as they ponder her words, they all knew what she was trying to say they just didn’t understand how Steve was going to pull it off. T’Challa understood how much Bucky meant to Steve so they took him willingly, but this time around, Steve would be asking them to take in a complete stranger that was a threat to their safety as long as he was under hydra’s control. It didn’t seem like it was a likely exchange, and as Steve trained downstairs, he was thinking the exact same thing.

12 hours later

It was late into the night when Jarvis’ voice erupted throughout the compound, everybody shooting up out of their beds at the constant ‘The soldier has woken up’ ringing through their rooms. They all glanced at each other as they met outside med bay’s doors, watching through the glass as the soldier yanked at his restraints. Steve had grabbed his shield on the way down and Natasha had a pistol held firmly in her grasp, but the atmosphere went awfully cold when the soldier looked up to stare into Steve’s eyes. He tilted his head ever so slightly to the right and there was a flash of recognition in his eyes, which Steve would have missed if he wasn’t looking so intently, before the soldier’s face went blank and his eyes turned dark and empty. This unsettled Steve, he couldn’t predict the soldier’s next movements and so he waited in the tense silence for something to happen, even when the lights began to flicker and eventually switched off, he waited. Only a few seconds had gone by, but it felt like hours before the lights turned back on and Steve felt his heart sink into his stomach at the sight of an empty bed before him. Turning to his team, he saw the look of fear lingering in their faces and when they looked to him for instructions on what to do, he kept his expression as neutral as he could as to not scare them.

“He’s still in the room, just watch your back and listen out for him.”, he whispered, carefully stepping past Tony to observe the room through the glass. From what Steve could see, everything in the room was untouched except for the tussled bed sheets and discarded hand cuffs, it was almost like the guy hadn’t even moved from the bed. His inner conflict was ceased when Tony whispered out into the air.

“Steve, has that vent always been open?”

Steve looked around for the vent Tony was talking about before feeling his shoulders slump when there was in fact a vent open at the top left corner of the room, the space inside the vent looked way too small for the man to have fit through though and it was on the ceiling. Steve didn’t understand how he would have made it up there with no noise.

“Please don’t tell me he’s in the vents.”, Sam groaned, looking up at the ceiling.

The team were all hoping the same thing when they heard a creak in the vents above them, all of them simultaneously looking up. Steve re-joined the group quickly, shield held out protectively as he stood in front of them all. The silence was deafening as they waited, until a sudden crash could be heard, and the team watched as the man dropped down from the ceiling and landed on his feet on the ground. Without his suit, the man looked a lot less ominous, but the lights were dimmed around him, and they knew what he was capable of, so they stood their ground.

“What did you do?”, the man spoke, voice low and demanding.

Everyone was shocked as they weren’t expecting him to speak but Steve was quick to respond, “We saved you, you’re safe here.”

The man didn’t move a muscle as Steve spoke, his face expressionless and Tony took this time to tip toe backwards, away from the group so that he could get his suit, the hallway being dark aided him in doing this, or so he thought. At his third step backwards, a web like substance was shot at his feet and he was stuck to the floor, his brows furrowed in puzzlement as he looked down, lifting his head to see that the soldier was now staring right at him. The rest of the team, all for Steve, all looked down at Tony’s feet and were confused as to what they were looking at, returning their attention to the man at the end of the hall.

“We don’t want to hurt you, we just want to help”, Steve uttered, lowering his shield. This proved to not be best idea because as soon as he did, the soldier moved to attack but before he could, Doctor Cho snuck up behind him and almost as if he could sense her, he turned to her, but she had already stuck a needle in his neck.

The team watched as he dropped to the floor, unconscious, looking up at Doctor Cho in bewilderment.

“Sorry about that.”, she panted, straightening out her clothes.

Steve took a moment to straighten up, taking a deep breath before walking over and slinging the man over his shoulder, “I think it’s best we put him in the holding cell, just until he calms down”.

The team agreed, Sam and Bruce heading back to bed, Tony prying the webs from his feet and heading down to the lab as Steve and Natasha took the soldier downstairs. On the walk down, Natasha rubbed her tired eyes and sighed with defeat.

“We really have no idea what we’re dealing with here.”

Steve nods, adjusting the soldier on his shoulder, “Yeah, we don’t. How did he even get up into the vent?”

“I couldn’t tell you, Steve.”

Once Steve placed the soldier on a bed in the holding cell and locked the door, he leaned his back against the glass and shut his eyes. “I have no idea what I’m going to do.”

Natasha smiles softly as she walks over to him, “How about you start with some sleep, God knows you need it.”

Steve opens his eyes to look down into hers, eyes flickering back and forth between her irises, “You’re right.”

“I’m always right.”, she jokes and Steve chuckles, following her up to where their rooms were.

Hydra facility, Russia

Hydra agents typed furiously at their computers, phone calls being made left right and centre, per the commander’s request, in search of the missing super soldier. The tension was high, and everyone could feel the anger radiating off of him as he paced back and forth, his attention focusing on an agent heading his way.

“Did you find him?”

The agent flinches at his stern tone, shaking their head “Not yet, sir, but we have a lead.”

“Go on.”

“The Avengers’ last sighting was in New York city; we believe that’s where they are keeping him.”

The commander took a moment to think before speaking, “Find out precisely where he is then report back to me immediately." The agent nodded quickly, walking off, and the commander ran his hands tiredly over his face. The Avengers were becoming a growing obstacle for him and he needed them out of his way.

The lab, Avengers Tower

“This doesn’t make any sense, he didn’t have a suit on so how could he have shot this at me?”, Tony questions as he examines the weird substance the soldier had shot at his feet, slumping back in his chair as he sighs in frustration.

Bruce furrows his brows as he searches the internet for answers, "It has such an odd molecular structure, nothing I’ve ever seen before. But you’re right, he had no suit on so I can’t imagine how he would have got a hold of it.”

“It looks exactly like a spiderweb, its freaky.”

Bruce halts his movements at this, turning to Tony, “What did you just say?”

“It’s freaky?”

Bruce shakes his head, “No, before that.”

“It looks like a spiderweb.”

Bruce turns back to his computer as he types something in, leaning back in his chair with raised eyebrows. “That’s exactly what is, Tony.”

Tony runs his hands tiredly through his hair, “That isn’t possible, Banner.”

Bruce turns the screen to Tony, showing him a spiderweb’s structure and pointing to whatever the soldier shot at Tony, “It’s exactly the same.”

Tony chuckles as he realises that Bruce is right and takes a closer look at the web like substance, “How on earth is that possible?”

Bruce shrugs, quickly turning to write something down on his notepad, “They must have replicated it, fabricated it into something of use.”

“I’d understand that, but it isn’t fabricated, it’s almost as if it came from the spider itself.”

“It can’t be real, a spiderweb would break within seconds if pulled at, but this didn’t. It stretches yet it doesn’t rip, how do you explain that?”

Tony picks up the substance in his hand and tugs it ever so slightly, watching it stretch without tearing, “You make a fair point but that’s a spiderweb if I’ve ever felt or seen one.”

Tony watches the substance in amazement before putting it back in its vile and calling out to Jarvis, “Jarvis, where’s Steve?”

“He’s in the training room, sir.”

“Ask him to come down to the lab, please, it’s urgent.” 

A few minutes later, a sweaty Steve walks into the lab, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a towel, “Is everything okay?”

Tony beckons him over, handing him the spiderweb vile, “What does that look like to you?”

Steve frowns, “A spiderweb, why?”

“This, my friend, came out of that soldier downstairs and we’re slightly confused because I don’t remember him having a suit on.”

Steve takes a closer look at the vile, “He didn’t.”

Tony raises his hands in the air, letting out a breath of air, “Hydra never fail to amaze me.”

“So, you think this… came out of him?”, Steve questions, confusion written all over his face.

“We aren’t sure yet, but it’s the only explanation we have considering he didn’t have any gadgets on him.”, Bruce states.

Steve hands the vile to Bruce, scratching his head, “I could ask but I doubt he’d tell me.”

Tony shrugs, “It’s worth a try, give him one of your motivational speeches, that should work.”

Steve shakes his head with a small smile, walking away to go back to his room.

On his way there, he sees Nat in the living area reading a book, “Hey, I’m going down to talk to the kid in around 30, feel like babysitting?”

Natasha rolls her eyes, smiling, “Sure, tell me when you’re heading down.”

Steve nods and continues his walk to his room.

Holding cells, Basement floor

The soldier doesn’t look up when Steve and Natasha enter the room, settling for staring at the ceiling above him with his arms behind his head as he lays on his back on the bed. Steve looks to Natasha before walking a little closer to the cell, “Hey kid.”, he gets silence back and lowers his head. “I know these aren’t ideal conditions but it’s just a safety precaution.”, the soldier ignores Steve again and Steve almost scraps the idea altogether, but Natasha speaks suddenly.

“We heard about your little web shooter, it’s pretty weird.”, the soldier turns his head at this, staring just to the left of where he was before, she continues.

“Don’t quite know how you pulled that one off but, it’s a neat trick.”

There are a few moments of silence where Steve and Natasha watch the guy as he seems to think about his next move, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them again, breaking the silence.

“It’s not a trick.”, both Steve and Natasha hide their surprise at his words, happy they got him talking.

“Looks like a trick to me.”

The soldier sits up, facing them both, ‘Well, it isn’t.”, his voice is clipped, almost offended.

“Show us.” Natasha says, crossing her arms but the soldier doesn’t move so she sighs. “Guess it is a trick, can’t trust a trickster now can we, Steve?”

Natasha motions for Steve to follow her as she leaves and they almost get to the door before they hear something hit the cell wall, turning to see a cluster of webs on the other side of the glass. Natasha looks at it curiously, stepping closer to get a better look.

“How did you do that?”, she asks, pressing her hand to the glass, examining the webs.

The soldier doesn’t respond, but he stands, walking closer to Natasha and staring into her eyes when he gets close enough, trying to read her. Natasha tilts her head at his gaze, muttering softly “Can you show me again?”.

The soldier frowns, looking down at his wrists before walking back to his bed and facing the ceiling again without another word.

Steve watches on in silence, more confused than when he entered, but when Natasha walks up to him whispering something about the guy’s wrists, he nods before leading her out the room. “How does that even work?”

“I don’t know but that’s where he looked when I asked if he could show me again, it has to mean something right?”, Natasha looks back at the room, sighing.

“We should tell Tony, he or Banner might know.”

Natasha nods, sparing one more glance at the holding cell before following Steve to the elevators.

[writtenbywings]

Life After Forever

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x Elena Gilbert

Summary: [A continuation following the finale] "After our long and happy life together..." — including small snippets of everything in between. Damon and Elena live after forever.

Chapter word count: 1.5k words

Link: Life After Forever

Type: Fluffy Romance

CH.1 - THE HONEYMOON

It had been a few weeks after the wedding, and under the blistering reign of the sun, Elena was writing on the page of a new journal— something she had been gifted in the reception.

"—though after the boat ride into Venice," the page read, gliding off the end of one and beginning upon the lip of another, "we spent little to no time in unpacking, rushing down to see the sunset before our night truly began. We drank wine. Correction. I drank wine and Damon plied me with bottles I'd never heard of before. We made love under the stars… and then we fell asleep on the terrace, weeks away from moving onto the next destination, and a month into our extensive honeymoon. Half a year of travelling together before I was to begin school, and before he began his business… We're in a utopia of bliss."

Elena swept her pen across the finishing lip of the page, her silver ring glistening under the cloudless sky—its diamond hot and heavy on her finger. She had to admit, even if it wasn't aloud, that this has been the happiest she had ever been… before Stefan, even before the death of her parents.

It felt shameful to even whisper, up there in the quiet, unheard part of her brain. Though here, on the balcony leading over the many buildings in Italy—her past so far gone it could barely see her—she felt a burst of warmth in her heart that had been dead for so long.

There was a rattle on the door, and the chain came loose, Damon entering their small apartment with a twinge of unhappiness on his face. Elena placed her pen in the crease of the diary, raising to stand.

"What's wrong?" She asked, the ends of her hair—now growing at an alarming rate, as long as it had been in the beginning—blowing in the light breeze.

"My back hurts." He shook his head, as if the notion itself bothered him. There were many things Damon didn't enjoy about being human, and the slightest ache or twinge of age, or of weakness, would irritate him.

Elena came in from outside, her bare feet hot against the tiles, her hands extended to him. His eyes softened as they saw her, though the displeasure was still pulling on his lips that so often were amused.

"Let me see." She insisted, and touched him by the shoulder.

Damon hissed, and yanked his upper body away. She stared in alarm.

He stalked off into the bathroom and yanked his shirt over his head, revealing a spread of red, burnt skin. His back practically a warning sign of 'what not to do when visiting a foreign country'. It made her heart ache to see his ignorance, his dumbfounded expression as she told him.

"What do you mean burnt?"

"You need to apply sunscreen whilst we're in these places. You're human now. Your skin is going to shrivel like a raisin."

He blinked, his face a shade of pink and brown she'd never seen him have before, his eyes even more bluer than they ever had been.

(Hail the blue!)

"I didn't know human skin was so… sensitive. I thought it took a lot more than a few hours in the sun."

"Your skin isn't used to it. Here, come lay down."

"No. It's too painful."

"On your stomach. I have some cream in my bag."

He eyed her in the mirrored reflection of the bathroom. "Will that work?"

"It will make the skin not so… raw. We'll have to get some Greek yogurt at the market."

"What?" He exclaimed.

"Relax." Elena whispered with the hint of a smile, taking him by the arm and leading him to the bed. He took off his shorts and splayed out, the muscles in his arms bulging and back (despite being crisp red) toned under the glow of the sun. He hadn't combed his hair in months and there was a boyishness about him that made her stomach ache, yearning for him in ways that didn't exist before.

Elena pushed the hair off of her shoulders and squirted some cream into her hands, drifting to the bed where he laid with every intention of knocking himself out if it got worse.

She kneeled, sitting lightly upon the backs of his thighs, taking the first spread at his back. He gritted his teeth, though released no sound, his pain threshold having gained some strength points over the years. Having your neck snapped, being starved, and burned alive in hell was only the tip of the iceberg. Though he had to give it to these humans. Being sensitive to every woe of the world was sure a bitch.

Elena grazed her hands over his back, and then blew some cold air onto the tender flesh, trying not to grin as he released a groan of satisfaction. She stopped, and bent down to press her soft lips onto his shoulder blades, parting her mouth to exude more breath as she travelled down his spine.

"Stop that," he said, with honest aggravation, "or I'm going to need to lay on my back for something else."

Elena flushed red and lifted from the bed, collecting her purse from the terrace.

"I'm going to head over grocery store to get you some yogurt. I'll be back in a bit."

"No. Stay. I'll be fine."

"We're both human now, remember? No damsel in distress, no protecting one over the other. I can take care of myself. Rest up."

He turned his head to watch her, idling the way she slipped those jewelled sandals onto her feet and collected the keys from the bowl beside the door. He loved her. God. He loved her.

She turned back to flash him a smile, and then disappeared down the hall.

...........

"You're getting what?"

"Yogurt."

"What will that do?"

"Has no one heard of this? Greek yogurt takes the sting out of sunburn."

"You're insane."

Elena grinned, placing a pot into her shopping cart, pushing it all the way to the sweet aisle.

"Where are you now?"

"I'm in Puerto Rico, fulfilling another long-lost wish of Enzo's. He wanted to take me here after Paris."

Elena half-smiled, only imagining what the unbearable pain must feel like to lose someone like that. Like Damon. She couldn't imagine doing this trip alone.

"He had expensive taste. How many cocktails have you had?"

"Um… this is my seventh." Bonnie laughed, and it sounded good. Elena could imagine her on the beach, one of those ridiculous floppy hats keeping the sun out of her eyes, a collection of glasses beside her lounger and the ocean just in reach. It fuelled her heart knowing they got to live through their lives together. It was the way it was meant to be.

"Give him my best, will you." Bonnie then said after some time. "And tell him I'll see him in a month, when you two travel over to the Caribbean… that will give him some heat in his food."

Elena laughed, and promised she'd send the message over, her hand currently barging in a thousand cookies a minute into her shopping cart. They hung up with smiles on their faces, and Elena went over to the counter to pay… seeing something sitting just beside the till. She picked that up too and paid for it, without thinking.

Not for now… just for the future, she reminded herself.

Elena left a moment later and returned to the hotel to find Damon asleep, his hand (still sporting the wedding ring) extended over her pillow, the sun setting, his cologne on their sheets.

She decided not to wake him up, and crept over to the bed where she lifted his arm, placing it around her shoulders. She watched him, and his fluffy eyebrows that always seemed to be aimed downwards, and his lips that were pulled, and his face that was so unbearably handsome. She leant forward and kissed him, just lightly, and whispered with every ounce of emotion in her voice, "I love you."

He snored in reply, though pulled her closer out of sleeping instinct.

The pregnancy test remained in her bag.

[nothing-but-haikyuu]

Bump

Reader: F Character: Yū Nishinoya & Asahi Azumane Rating: G Summary: The baby was planned, as surprisingly a lot of things were in the relationship you had with Nishinoya and Asahi. The three of you were currently living in Italy, Asahi worked remotely, Nishinoya spent most days catching fish and you took care of the house with your rounded middle and love for both of your men Warning: Pregnant Reader, Fluff, Domestic Ask Box: Open | Check Out ThreadytoGoDesign | Join me on Patreon

The baby was planned, as surprisingly a lot of things were in the relationship you had with Nishinoya and Asahi. The three of you were currently living in Italy, Asahi worked remotely, Nishinoya spent most days catching fish and you took care of the house with your rounded middle and love for both of your men.

Your baby was about the size of a pineapple as you got up on a rainy day on the coast on the place you called paradise. Both Asahi and Nishinoya were still asleep, curled up next to each other as you rolled out of bed and put on your slippers.

Rain hit against the window of your bedroom as you stretched out your back and sleepily patted your rounded middle. Baby was due soon and you couldn’t be happier. Your little miracle, it was like you were so worried about getting pregnant but as soon as the three of you wanted to try, it didn’t happen. Almost a year of trying and now here he was. Over seven months big and healthier than ever.

You waddled over to the kitchen, carefully going downstairs. As you rolled up the sleeves of your t-shirt you patted your bump, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” You paused as if you were waiting for a response, “Pancakes.” You chuckled to yourself as you leaned up to get the box of pancake mix.

You relationship with the two men was rather uninteresting. Everything came together with time, you and Asahi were worked to the bone in Tokyo and a impromptu trip to Italy made you two stay and eventually fall in love with Nishinoya. And after four years together, you wanted to try for an addition to the family.

“Should we add chocolate chips?” You asked as you looked down, “I think we should, I know, I know, Asahi worries but like. A few won’t hurt.” You smiled as you reached over and grabbed the jar of the chocolate chips out of the cupboard.

You were working while living in Italy but when it was decided that you were going to be having their baby, you became a full time unofficial housewife. Now with your bump pressing against the edge of the stove, you flipped the pancakes.

You rubbed your lower back with your free hand. You were having a baby boy, and from the doctor’s estimates he was going to be on the bigger side. Something that made you swallow deeply as they took the ultrasound.

 “What’s that smell!” You heard from upstairs.

 “Pancakes!” You called back, “I thought you two would like to wake up to breakfast.” You chuckled as you placed the cooked pancake on the plate on the counter.

Nishinoya was the first to come downstairs, he came up behind you and kissed on your neck, “How’s the baby?”

 “Quiet this morning, but you know I can’t stay in bed long. Today is pancake day, mama wants some pancakes.” You chuckled.

 “Sounds great to me.” He chuckled, “Let me help you set the table.” He pulled away and went to go grab plates, forks and knives along with the bottle of syrup.

It wasn’t hard to love both of your men. They were different but still worked well together. Hot and cold and you were the nice medium. Nishinoya brought out Asahi’s louder side and Asahi got Nishinoya to calm down.

And with the sound of heavy footsteps, your other partner was awake. He slowly made his way down the stairs and loudly yawned. He already had to dad yawn down pat.

 “Good morning.” He said as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, “Pancakes?”

 “Yep.” You and Nishinoya said in unison.

He rested against the entrance to the kitchen and said, “Not too many chocolate chips, right?”

You looked over your shoulder and smiled, “Of course, I know the whole thing about my sugar.”

He came up behind you and kissed the top of your head, “The only sugar you should be getting is from us. Want me to take these to the table?”

 “I’m almost finished, you two go sit down.” You smiled more. You were kissed again and Nishinoya came over to give you a kiss as well. Your partners were very affectionate both with you and each other. They just wanted their fair share of kisses.

You waited for the last pancake to cook before you flipped it onto the plate. Both of your men were seated at the table. And you proudly carried the plate with one hand, smiling to yourself as you walked to the table.

 “This just means we’ll cook dinner for you. Your favourite.” Asahi said as the plate was placed in the middle of the table. As you took your hand away from the table, he grabbed it and kissed the top of your hand.

 “Anything you want.” Nishinoya beamed, “But nothing too high in fat, sugar or carbohydrates! Remember, doctor’s orders!”

You chuckled, “So I guess no katsu, huh.” You knew that your partners were worried about the safety of your baby. Parenthood was just as new for them as it was for you.

Asahi responded, “Maybe, but it won’t be ninety percent breading.” He pointed his fork at you before he speared one of the pancakes and put it on his plate.

You chuckled, “Of course.” As you sat down with them. This wasn’t the life you expected. You never thought of yourself as a mother lat alone with two partners. You thought you’d spend the rest of your life with the grind of the workplace in Tokyo. But as you started to eat, you looked at your two partners and then rubbed your belly with your free hand, you felt a sense of peace and warmth in your heart.

This was home and the little family you made was only growing.

[homoose]

Weird is Good

Summary: A story about two people tryna make it through the age of COVID-19 in a country where people are fucking dumb lmao. My hc is that Spencer would be like wtf at all these science-denying anti-maskers. Also, two teachers just tryna make it through quarantine and remote teaching in a one bedroom apartment (this is taking place during a mandatory leave/lecture cycle).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: no warnings. reader is both a kindergarten teacher and a bruh girl with a pirate’s mouth. lots of Spencer x factz.

Word count: 3.1k

———

“We’re home for the next two weeks. ”

Spencer looked up from his desk to see Y/N kicking off her shoes, dropping her bag, and walking directly to the sink. “Starting when?”

“We get to go in on Monday to say goodbye to the kids and get any materials we might need. Then we’re home for two weeks. They’re calling it an early, extended spring break.” Y/N began her hand washing routine. As a kindergarten teacher, she’d always been a strict hand-washer. In the time of COVID, she had only become more zealous. She looked at Spencer. “Have you heard anything?”

“Since we’re so close to the end of the semester, the department head thinks they’ll try to finish out the year as normal.” He set down his pen. “I honestly don’t know. It will all depend on whether people follow the CDC guidelines. The spread of any virus is deducible mathematically, and SARS-COV2 is no different. Based on the outbreak in Italy prior to their lockdown, we can accurately describe its reproductive number, or Rt, to between 2.43 – 3.10.”

Y/N shut off the water and dried her hands on a paper towel. “In layman's terms, Dr. Reid.”

“The Rt tells how many people are infected by the contagious host,” he explained. “In the case of this strain, each infected person is infecting between two and three others. For comparison, the standard seasonal flu has an average Rt between 1.4 and 1.7.”

“So in other words, fucking yikes,” Y/N groaned. She moved to perch on the edge of Spencer’s desk.

“Indeed,” Spencer agreed. “We know how fast the flu can travel through an office or a classroom, so imagine if it was two times as transmissible. But it's also really important to understand that this number changes depending on the mitigations in place. Even prior to full lockdown, mask wearing and social distancing was somewhat common in Italy, so it’s likely the uncontrolled Rt is higher.”

“Jesus Christ.” Y/N scrubbed a hand over her face. “We’ll probably never go back.”

Spencer rubbed his hand up from her ankle to the inside of her knee. “The good news is there’s nothing special about this virus compared to others in terms of how it spreads— it’s just aerosols. So if everyone wears their mask, we’ll be able to keep the spread low.”

⧭⧭⧭

“It’s safe to say that everyone did not wear their fucking masks,” Y/N snapped. She watched from the couch as Mayor Bowser delivered the news that DC Public Schools would remain closed for the remainder of the year. “This is crazy. I mean, I knew it was coming because people in this country are absolute buffoons.” She looked at Spencer, fingers pressed to her temple. “But holy shit, are we ever going to be able to go outside again?”

“With schools and universities closed, people working remotely, and lockdown orders in place, the Rt in the US could stay low. But masks have to be worn at all times, and social distancing has to be strictly followed.” Spencer pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I just— I can’t believe people are refusing to wear masks. The empirical, peer-reviewed data clearly shows—”

“This is ‘Murica, boy.” Y/N mocked. “Ain’t no tyrannical government gonna tell me what to do!” She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, your choice to abstain from social media is paying dividends to your sanity right now.”

Spencer looked truly dumbfounded, setting his newspaper down in his lap. “But that’s just it. It’s not just in social media circles.” He gestured to the article in front of him. “This economist just argued for ‘reopening’ the economy using the justification of herd immunity. Herd immunity can be a plausible option for less lethal diseases. But this virus is not like varicella—the chickenpox,” he clarified at Y/N’s raised eyebrow. He waved his hands around in exasperation. “Putting aside the fact that one facet of herd immunity is vaccinating as many people as possible, its success completely hinges on the Rt of a disease. If you model a population based on an Rt of 2.5, herd immunity wouldn’t be achieved until approximately sixty percent of the population has been infected. Consider that the US population is currently 328 million, and sixty percent of that is 196.8 million. The current mortality rate for SARS-COV2 is 3.06 percent. 196,800,000 multiplied by 0.0306 is 6,022,080. Over six million people would die. It's simple mathematics.”

Y/N let out an exasperated breath. “It used to be that simple math and facts were enough. Now you’ve got basement scientists who think they know better than actual, literal scientists who’ve spent their entire lives studying these things.” She ran a hand over her face and gestured at the news conference still playing. “How long do you think it’ll be before we’re both trying to teach from this tiny ass living room?”

⧭⧭⧭

“Goooooooood morning, kindergarten! It’s Friday, and no Friday is a bad Friday!” Spencer smiled. As he poured his first cup of coffee, he hummed along with Y/N and 23 six-year-olds as they sang their morning song. Observing fourteen days of remote kindergarten from across the living room had given Spencer a new appreciation for elementary school teachers, particularly Y/N. She sang, danced, conducted science experiments, held puppet shows, read stories, led art projects, and fielded questions for four hours a day— three hours less than when they were in the school building. He was exhausted by proxy.

But he was also grateful for the opportunity to watch Y/N in her element. Even though they were at home, she still got dressed every day in bright, patterned sweaters and dresses— her Ms. Frizzle attire, she’d told him once. She was able to channel her personality into a kid-friendly version that her students clearly adored, never afraid to be silly or strange to get their attention and keep them engaged during the long days. He worked from home whenever possible, strangely happy to have the background noise of kindergarten over his quiet university office.

...

“Okay, but where do I put the biiiiiiiiiiiig number?” Y/N made a wide gesture with her arms. “Ariah, where should I put it? In the big box, yes! But oh no, my small number needs a friend. My three is soooooo lonely!” Y/N drew her mouth into a pout. “DJ, how can I help my three not be so sad? You’re absolutely right, let’s put that two right next to him in our number bond.”

…

“I’ve been waitin’  for a girl to mute,” Y/N sang into the gold karaoke mic. “I said, muuuuuuuuuute, I’m blinded by loud sounds. No, I can’t hear the friend who’s tryin’ to talk.”

…

“Oh boy. Kev, honey, we can— we can see you. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. We can see all of you. I can’t turn your camera off, buddy. You gotta— there we go.”

…

“Mute please, I need— I need everybody to mute, please. Oh my goodness where is that music coming from?” Y/N frantically searched for her index card with the picture of the mute icon, as the sounds of a highly inappropriate song blared through the computer speaker. “I know it’s so loud, guys. Why is my mute power gone?! This is why we need to make sure we keep our mute button on, kindergarten.”

…

“No sweetie, it’s not time to log off yet. I’m sorry, I know it’s such a long day. We have about an hour left. Do you guys wanna do a countdown? It’s the fin-al count-down! Do-do doo dooooo. Do-do-d-do-dooo…”

…

“Annnnnd, I should see all my friends on mute. William, hang on just a second. All my friends need to look at my picture, it’s an oval with a line through it… Okay, William, what did you bring to show us?” Y/N leaned toward the computer screen. “Grandma Kathy? O-oh, she’s— she’s in the—“ Y/N’s eyes widened. “Is that— is that an urn? Oh wow. Um, well, wow. It’s beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing that with us, William. Grandma Kathy, may she rest in peace.”

⧭⧭⧭

A week into Y/N teaching kindergarten from their living room, the university had announced its transition to online coursework for the remainder of the academic year. Spencer had to host his first zoom lecture, and he was absolutely dreading it.

“Spence, it’s going to be fine. It’s not like you’ve never been on a video conference,” Y/N assured him. She sat cross-legged on the couch, waiting for him to let her in to his practice zoom.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t running those meetings. I just showed up.” He squinted at the computer screen. “Are you in?”

Y/N barely resisted the urge to make a joke, knowing that Spencer probably wouldn’t appreciate the innuendo. “No, you have to admit me.”

“What do you mean? How do I do that?”

“There should be a box with a button that says admit.”

Spencer gestured at the computer. “Well there’s a bunch of boxes— which one should I be looking at?”

Y/N sighed and got up from the couch. “IQ of 187 and can’t find the box.”

Spencer dragged a hand through his hair. “I know I shouldn’t find this so difficult. I’m sorry you have to waste your time on this.”

“Hey, it was a joke.” Y/N grabbed his hand from where he was frustratedly pulling on his frazzled curls. “I’m sorry. That was mean and you’re already stressed enough.” She used her free hand to smooth his hair back into place. She scrunched her nose. “I love you and your limited technology skills. And honestly it’s kind of nice to have one thing I can actually teach you about.” She squeezed his hand, leaning over him to peer at his computer screen. “All right, let’s find that elusive admit button.”

When the day of his lecture rolled around, Spencer thanked all the atoms in the observable universe that Y/N had a break during his class. Within the first ten minutes, he’d managed to accidentally kick himself out of his own meeting and then somehow lose track of the screenshare button.

“No one can see me and I don’t know what happened to the screenshare option. It was there and now it’s just… gone,” he told Y/N.

She leaned over his desk, eyes tracking over the screen and mouse clicking around the desktop. “How in the world did you manage to block your camera?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t even touch it!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand how it’s even possible to be this bad at this.”

Y/N bumped his knee with her own, pulling up his camera settings and preferences. “Relax. You can’t be good at everything. It’s a refreshing reminder that you’re a mere mortal like the rest of us.” With a few rapid clicks, Y/N unblocked his camera and located the screenshare bar. “There. Crisis averted. I’m just going to share your whole screen in case you want to toggle between application windows. So just be aware that they’ll be able to see everything. And then you just click here when you’re ready to stop sharing.”

When Y/N turned her head toward him to check that he understood, Spencer grabbed the side of her face and caught her lips in a kiss. Y/N smiled against his mouth, heart speeding up as he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue.

“Um, Dr. Reid? Your um— your camera’s working now.”

Spencer nearly fell out of his chair, his cheeks about the color of the Leave Meeting icon. Y/N dropped her head, debating whether she wanted to laugh or let the earth open up and swallow her whole. She ultimately decided to compose herself, stepping back and giving a little wave to the sea of tiny, grinning zoom faces before slinking out of frame, miming sorry to one very mortified professor.

⧭⧭⧭

“Would you want to be our mystery reader next week?” Y/N asked, bookmarking the page of her novel and reclining back in bed. “You just have to pick a story to read. Oh, and think of four clues about your identity to give the kiddos.”

Spencer raised his eyebrow, continuing to read. “Any story?”

Y/N laughed. “Well they’re six, so maybe hold off on the Chaucer and Bradbury for now. A picture book would be preferable.”

“Did you know that the first picture book, Orbis Sensualium Pictus, or Visible World in Pictures, was published in 1658?” He looked up from his own book. “Czech educator John Amos Comenius wanted to create a book that would be accessible to children of all levels of ability. The educational theories he explored are actually still in practice in the field of early childhood education.” He turned toward her from his spot under the covers. “For example, when you have your students make a hissing sound and slither their arms when they produce the sound represented by the letter s? Comenius included an alphabet chart with various animal and human sounds representing each letter. He wanted to demonstrate that the incorporation of multiple senses could help increase learning.”

“I guess you don’t fix what isn’t broken,” Y/N mused. “300 years later, and we’re still using the same methods.”

“362, actually,” Spencer corrected.

She gave him a look. “Maybe we can save the Comenius for another time.”

“The genre of children’s literature encompasses some of the most profound and philosophical story telling of all time.” Spencer returned his attention to his reading.

“...So is that a yes?”

Spencer smiled. “I’ve got a book in mind.”

“And clues,” Y/N reminded him, snuggling down under the covers and reopening her book. “We need some fun clues, mystery reader.”

…

“Kindergarten, we have a very special mystery reader this week. Oh man, are you ready for the first clue? The mystery reader loves jell-o! Raise your little hand if you love jell-o, too. Okay, kindergarten, I see you! Lots of jell-o lovers in the house.”

…

“Okay, clue number two! Our mystery reader works as a community helper— remember we learned about all different kinds of community helpers; firefighters, nurses, police officers. But if the mystery reader could be anything, they’d want to be a cowboy! How cool is that?”

...

“Clue number three for our mystery reader!” Y/N sucked in a gasp. “You guys. The mystery reader can do magic. Oh my goodness, I am so excited for Friday,” she sing-songed. “Will they show us a trick? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe if you ask nicely.”

…

“Okay, my friends, the last clue. The mystery reader loves reading. They read every day, and they’ve been reading since 1983! Yes, that was a very long time ago.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Okay, any last guesses about who our mystery reader might be?” Y/N questioned.

“I think it’s your dad,” a little voice called out.

Spencer made a choking noise from where he sat, slightly off camera. Y/N laughed. “The mystery reader is decidedly not my dad, Keyshon. Remember I showed you guys the picture of him— my dad’s a farmer, so he’s kind of already a cowboy.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, without further ado, drumroll please... Our mystery reader is…” Y/N pushed her desk chair out of frame to allow Spencer to roll in, holding her hands out. “Spencer!”

He gave a little wave, smoothing his hair, suddenly painfully self-aware and nervous about the opinions of two dozen six-year-olds. “Hi guys.”

“You’re the boy on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone.”

“Your hair is so fluffy!”

“Do you have a cowboy hat?”

“I like your sweater.”

“Can you really do magic?”

“What’s your favorite jell-o?”

“Whoa, okay, let’s remember our mute button,” Y/N, holding up her index card. “I promise you’ll get to ask Spencer all your questions after he reads the story.”

Spencer smiled at the excited faces beaming through the screen. “Yes, I’m on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone; I don’t own a cowboy hat, yet; yes, I really can do magic; and the red jell-o is my favorite.”

Y/N watched with interest as Spencer pulled out his book. He’d been secretive about his choice, so she was as curious as her students.

“This is one of my favorite stories. It’s written by Munro Leaf, and illustrated by Robert Lawson. It’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer held the cover up to the camera. “Ferdinand is the bull here on the cover. This story was written in 1935, which was a long time ago! Okay are you ready?” Spencer looked out on a sea of thumbs up, turning the page to the beginning of the story. “Once upon a time in Spain, there was a bull, and his name was Ferdinand.”

Y/N smiled as she listened to Spencer read each page, recounting the story of the peaceful bull. He was an excellent storyteller, changing the inflection and expression of his voice to match each sentence. He held each page up for just the right amount of time, panning it so her students could see each detail of the black and white pictures. He added his own wonderings and exclamations here and there, and her students were decidedly enthralled. Her heart ached at how comfortable he was, how natural this was for him. She rested her chin in her hand, trying to keep her mind in the present— ignoring the persistent little mental image of Spencer as a dad.

“So they had to take Ferdinand home. And for all I know, he is sitting there still, under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly. He is very happy… And that’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer closed the book with a soft smile. “I love this story. Ferdinand is a very special bull. What do you think makes him so special?”

“Ferdinand didn’t fight,” a little voice piped up.

“Yes!” Spencer agreed. “He practiced pacifism in the face of the persistent, ingrained militarism of his country’s culture.”

Y/N placed a hand on Spencer’s knee and gave a quick squeeze. “Right, Ferdinand chose not to fight, even though everybody else he knew wanted to.” Y/N winked at him before turning back to the screen full of kids. “All his friends thought he was kind of weird, but he just really wanted to hang out in the shade and smell the flowers, huh? Sounds pretty good to me.”

“He wasn’t bothered that the other bulls thought he was strange for wanting to be peaceful,” Spencer added. “Sometimes being different can be a good thing. The Story of Ferdinand reminds me that it’s okay to be yourself, even if other people think you’re weird.” His eyes met Y/N’s. “Because there will always be people who love and appreciate you for who you are.”

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 26

WC: 1118

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: im screaming it’s fine, fluff af, the lone sex joke, german but it's pretty self explanatory

September ended and October began with a flourish. With only two more races in the season, Niki was busier than usual. You weren’t able to see him as much after his win at Monaco, but you still spoke on the phone daily. He and your brother were nearly tied in the points standings.

Work itself had been mundane but enjoyable. You wished you could say the same about your coworkers. Bruno hounded you with questions about Niki and the racing itself. “They’re practically tied! This is insane! Everything rides on the next two grand prix.” He blows out a hard breath

“Maybe you should sit down, Bruno. You’re looking a bit peaked,” Elena says while trying to contain her laughter. You don’t fare much better than she.

“Could you get me their autographs?!” Bruno nearly shouts at you in excitement. The little vein in his forehead is throbbing aggressively. You and Elena share a look.

“You literally met and spoke to Niki a few months ago,” you try to remind him. Bruno lets out a pathetic groan. Worried for his health, you add “if it will keep you from giving yourself a heart attack, sure.” Elena is able to push him out the door, instructing him to get back to work, before closing the door behind him.

“Are you going to the races with Niki?”

“Not this weekend, we’ve got the gala, remember?”

Elena harumphs; “forgot about that…What about the last one? Japan, was it?”

You pause. Of course you wanted to be there for whichever of your boys won the championship title, but Japan was quite a ways away. “I… haven’t much thought of it, really. Japan is halfway across the world. And I don’t want to be a distraction to either of them; they’ll be stressed as is.”

“Oh hush, they both want you there. It’s a given!”

“If Niki asks I’ll go. But I’m not just going to pack my bags and invade his space without asking.”

“I’m sure he would love for you to invade his space. Get all up in there,” she gestures wildly around her body, her bottom lip between her teeth.

“That’s it,” you sigh, “I’m never telling you about my sex life again.”

Elena just cackles and says “we’ll see.”

🏎

You sit on the workbench watching as Niki tinkers with the blue Mini. The memory of your raunch in the front seat is at the forefront of your mind. Heat creeps up your chest and neck at the thought. Nobody ever loved you the way Niki did - emotionally and physically. You were his soft spot, you knew it. The two of you were back in your domestic routine, this time even more happy now that you weren’t being secretive. In all honesty, you were so content that you had completely forgotten about the secret James had told you.

Niki went about replacing the spark plugs as you sat next to him. Every few moments he would reach out his hand to you and you would take the old plug and give him the new one. You appreciate his concentration as he works. His brows are furrowed; his lips scrunched in that way you love.

“There.” He closed the hood with a bang. He wiped his hands on a towel. Moving next to the workbench, he paused before reaching out to grab a set of keys. “Come,” he takes your hand. You hold it tightly as you follow him.

Now is as good a time as any, so you decided to bring up Japan. James ended up winning first place in the race over the weekend at Watkins Glen. All that was left was Mt. Fuji and the three points that separated the two from victory. “Niki I’ve been meaning to ask - what are your plans for Japan?”

“You’ll come with me of course.” The excitement at visiting Japan, and perhaps watching your love win the championship title a second time, grew within you.

“Good. I’ve never been to Asia, we should do some sightseeing while we're there if we can.”

Approaching his motorcycle in the corner of the garage, you guess Niki is finally going to make good on his promise to take you for a ride. You had ridden a vespa, you did live in Italy, after all, but had never been on a bike like this. He turns away from you to reach something from a shelf above you. Pausing for a moment, he takes a breath and then faces you. For the first time since you’ve known him he looks nervous.

In his hand is a helmet - his old from Formula 3 - that he angles to you. Taking it from him you turn it in your hands looking it over. It is much simpler than what he wears now. On the left side is his name, not in the signature cursive of his modern gear, but written in bold letters. Niki continued to study you as you examined the helmet.

Rotating it to the other side, your breath escapes you. In the same bold font as Niki’s name sits yours, permanently etched into the surface.

Catherine Lauda.

Well, not yours - his.

Niki knew it was a bold move. He wasn’t the type to get down on one knee or buy you a fancy dinner with dozens of roses. You were in the middle of his garage on a random Tuesday night. It was presumptuous. It was risky.

“Niki-?” What is this?

“You always pay so much attention to my name on the helmet. I thought you might like your own, liebe.” He shrugs as if what he’s saying is the most casual thing.

I didn't know he'd noticed that. Licking your lips to try and fight off the grin that threatens to overtake you, you peek up through your lashes at him. “My name is Sinclair, you know;” the argument is weak at best.

His jaw ticks. “I was hoping to change that.” His free hand retrieved an object from his front pocket; a small gold band. He holds the ring between you delicately. It is pure and simple, not showy or gaudy. It is Niki.

His gaze is piercing as he waits for your response.

“Is this your way of asking me to marry you, Mr. Lauda?” you teased. The smile you wore was so large it hurt.

Equally as smug, he retorts “why? Was it not good enough?”

You shake your head, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“And?”

Giving him your hand, you whisper “ja, ich werde, meine liebe.”

Niki slips the band on you. He revels in the feel of the cool metal on his cheek as you meet his lips.

Tag list: @ay0nha @apparrio @livvyshmiv @fictionlandslanddreams @vinylrosess @typical-bistander @ntlmundy @mymagicsuitcase @anteroom-of-death @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lieutenantn @multiversemarielle @trashbin2 @whatawildone @metalbreakfast @laura-naruto-fan1998 @greeneyedblondie44 @godidontevenknowwhat @marchingicenotes7 @loliissmut 

[the-fiction-witch]

Will I be arrested?

REAL LIFE SCANDAL COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: FUNNY + CUTE

"Hey Thomas" Y/n smiled zooming in to his face with her camera as they sat in an airport

"Hello." he smiled looking up from reading his book

"You enjoying your book there thomas?"

"Yes. I... I'm afraid of whatever is about to come out of your mouth"

"did you find the secret?"

"What secret? what- what have you done to my book?"

"I haven't done anything. to your Book."

"Y/n. I'm serious right now what have you done"

"Nothing,"

"I'm deciding to trust you. Do not abuse this trust"

"Ohh I won't" she giggled

"All the planes, all the places" she smiled showing the huge airport board "we on it yet?"

"No. we should be like the next wave. once all those planes have took off we'll be like the next lot"

"then why are we here too early?"

"Becuase I didn't know how long it was gonna take us to check-in and get sorted I know what your like" he answered "Maybe we should just get on one of these planes just go fuck it, go to... Indonesia"

"yeah but. our stuff's going to Japan."

"true our stuff is going to japan"

"and I wanna go to Japan. I wanna go where the pokemon and the ramen is" she smiled turning her camera around as she laid on Thomas's shoulder

"Yes dear" He smiled "you are about to spend so much money"

"I know. I've been saving genuinely for six years for this trip, I have japan savings or buy a house. unironically"

"Seriously?"

"Well, I mean not a house in London. but like... in rural lake district maybe"

"buy a house or go buy stuff in japan"

"to be fair there is so much I wanna buy in japan, and I need to buy prezzies"

"You literally have a suitcase that currently has like a couple of little dresses in it that could have easily fit in your other case but its completely because that suitcase is stuff you're bringing home"

"Very much so yeah. but that's what you get when you decide to take me somewhere I've always wanted to go"

"To be fair. I gave you choices, japan, Italy or Hawaii. for our honeymoon"

"and I had to choose japan"

"Hello small sleepy boy" she smiled pointing her camera up to Thomas as he got settled in their seats in the little booths.

"Hello. got our little aeroplane booth here"

"we paid extra for that"

"We had to. we had to get the little bed booth given we are literally going from Gatwick airport to Tokyo. so... we needed the bed booth"

"Defiantly needed" she giggled "Thomas? I have something to tell you"

"Oh? what do you have to tell me wifey?"

"I may have shoved something in your bag"

"have you? what have you done?"

"Hidden something in your bag"

"Okay.... when we get to Japan. and go through the airport will I be stopped?" "Possibly. you didn't get stopped in Gatwick so maybe"

"Will It get picked up on the x-ray?"

"it will yeah"

"Okay. Will I get arrested?"

"Uuuhhhh.... I don't think so, I don't know"

"Would I be arrested anywhere in the world for what I have now in my bag"

"Yes. certain countries and... American states. yes you would be arrested, Thomas"

"Great. Thank you so very much my beautiful new wife. The plan has wifi right?" "Yeah"

"Good because I'm gonna do some googling."

"see if you're going to be arrested when we land"

"thing is that bag is somewhere I actually can't get it. so if it is a problem until it comes on the carousel in japan I can't do anything about it"

"Kinda yeah"

"I don't believe you."

"Ha! it's what you get for leaving your bag unattended"

"I didn't leave it unattended I left it with you"

"Yeah you left it with me. you fool"

"No I thought Ohh I'll leave my bag with my wife while I buy her Starbucks. I'm serious what is in my bag?"

"bow chicka wow wow"

"God damn it. Will we like at least be able to use it? On our honeymoon?"

"I mean.... maybe. you might"

"will I?" he laughs getting his phone "Okay Japan strictly prohibits entry of narcotics and related utensils, firearms, firearm parts and ammunition, explosives and gunpowder, precursor materials for chemical weapons, germs that are likely to be used for bioterrorism, counterfeit goods or imitation coins or currency, obscene materials, or goods that violate intellectual property rights. Other restricted items include but are not limited to certain agricultural and meat products, endangered species and products such as ivory, animal parts and fur where trade is banned by international treaty." He reads "What the fuck have you put in my bag?"

"Ohh shirt actually. I was joking but now you've read that."

"What! what's in my bag?"

"I'm actually now a little worried."

"This isn't a bit for the video?"

"No."

"You are actually concerned."

"Mildly"

"What have you shoved in my bag? I'm serious now y/n."

"Well..."

"Is it iovry?"

"No"

"Is it imitation currency?"

"No"

"I really hope its not a fire arm. or any sort of weapon"

"I mean... it could be classed as a weapon"

"why should we be concerned?"

"Is the obscene materials. I uhhhh I might need a more indeph into about that"

"what the? is that yours?" Y/n asked as she filmed the carousel of bags one suitcase with tape all over it

"Yeah that's mine. what the hell?" he asks "why is it like that?"

"open" a staff member spoke up

"Open? its been opened?"

"No it open... open before"

"Okay. so my bag opened during the flight luckily it was my suitcase like y/n's where it didn't have much in it for us to bring stuff home and we think everything is accounted for it just opened"

"Your bag popped in the hold"

"bag popped, now to actually go to tokyo after all that we had to file paperwork about that" she giggled

Y/n giggled filming as they were stopped at customs with thomas' bag on the table

"I hate you so much" He muttered to her

"Good morning sir, " the staff member said now arriving to them

"Hello"

"ticket in your name?" "Yes. yes they are."

"duration?"

"sorry?"

"How long? You stay?"

"Two weeks"

"Reasons?"

"Our honeymoon"

"Sorry? moon honey?"

"Our honeymoon. we just got married" y/n adds

"aww congratulations"

"Thank you"

"you pack your own bag?"

"Yes. the two  of us together packed all the bags yes"

the woman then began going through the suitcases

"This bag is locked"

"Ah yes. uhhhh honey you have the key for that bag right?"

"Uhhhhhh yes. its that blue key" y/n spoke up

"right yes blue key, for the blue bag"

"what is this?" she asked having opened the bag

"Uhhhhh...... toys"

"For children?"

"Uhhhhhh no. no uhh adult. toys." he answered trying to be quiet

"adult toy."

"adult toys. for grown-ups only"

"fine."

"Ohhh okay" he nods sheepishly as she moved onto another bag immediately opening it revealing a large box

"what this?"

"Uhhhh that's another adult toy" Y/n spoke up

the woman opened the box and quickly closed it again putting it back "fine."

"Thomas did not get arrested" Y/n giggled

"almost. they actually had a word with us and said that what we had was not a problem like nothing was obscene but the quantity of stuff was sort of suspicious apparently but given we explained we're here on our honeymoon, we just got married, got our paperwork and all like they know how newlywed we are given your Id is still your maiden name so they let us pass."

"Nearly got arrested"

"Good start to japan honeymoon"

[bebepac]

The Private Investigator 🔎

Happy 100 @wackydrabbles !!!!!!!

Original Post Date:  06/22/21 at 9:16PM EST

I am participating in prompt # 100:  This is huge - we need to celebrate which will be in bold.  

I started with Wacky Drabbles at prompt # 28.  I have enjoyed the ride thus far. Looking forward to a 100 more!  

This is also chapter 14 of Just the Way You Are.  To catch up with what you’ve been missing Please Click:  Just The Way You Are

Nic,Taylor, and Daphne are my own characters, all others  belong to Pixelberry.

The Book:  Perfect Match x TRR

Pairings:  Hayden x Kai (M!Hayden x F!Kai) /  (Liam x Riley) 

Warnings: None

Rating: PG

Word Count 498

A/N: Thank you at @jessiembruno for mentioning Damien needed to be a part of the next part I am working on with this series for the Liam and Riley / Nic / Daphne part. And here he is!

Riley knocked on the office door peeking her head in.

"Hey D."

"Riley!" Damien jumped up from the desk walking around to give her a hug.

"It's been a long time Damien."

"Too long!  How are you?  How's everyone?"

"Not even the least bit smooth D. I'm good, Kai is too. You should reach out to her. A lot is going on in her life. Big things.”  

“So what’s going on with you Ri? You booked a consultation?”  

She explained the situation with Daphne.  

“And it’s all of a sudden.  I don’t think it’s because she wants to be a mother now, like she claims.  That she wants to be a part of Nic’s life, that she thinks I'm incapable of raising him because I’m not Greek and besides who the hell knows anyway?  I know nothing about my birth parents, I might be Greek.”

“If you ever want to know, I can look into that for you.”

“I have great parents D. Taylor doesn’t want to dredge up anything either.  We both want to leave well enough alone.”  

“I need the name of this woman.”  

“It's Daphne.  Daphne Vasilakis.”  

“Give me a little time, I’ll find every piece of dirt there is out there about her.”  

“Thanks so much D. Sorry I didn’t keep in better touch with you.”  

“I know how it goes.  When people part ways... Kai was your friend first.”  

“Don’t be a stranger though Damien. I know you do the brooding loner thing so well, but enough is enough dude!"

Damien laughed. "Alright Riley. Message received."

Damien contacted her a few weeks later.

"Well Riley… you were right. Her motives are not from the desire to be a mother to that precious boy."

He watched Riley's face as it turned even more forlorn after every piece of evidence he revealed.

He handed her the dossier with all the information.  

"How much do I owe you for all of this Damien?"

"You don't.  We'll have dinner and drinks soon."

"You'll meet my boyfriend  then."

"What?!? Riley, that's great!!!!! I'm glad you found someone.  You were…."

"Stuck in sadness for so long…. I know D. See you soon?"

He hugged her once more.  “You better believe it.”  

She walked into her apartment where it smelled like little Italy.

“Wow something sure smells good!”

“We were making spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Mom, I made the meatballs. Liam helped a little.”  

Liam laughed.  “I helped a little, apparently.  We’re waiting on the garlic bread.”

“Go wash up for dinner, Nic.”  

After she kissed Nic’s forehead, he ran down the hall.  

“What did you find out?”  

Riley burst into tears, telling Liam.

 “I wanted to be wrong about her.  Nic doesn’t deserve more pain.”  

“That’s why we are doing this Riley, so we can protect him.”  

“We?”  

“Yes, we.  I’m here with you for all of this, forever. Nic’s home is with us.”  

Liam affectionately kissed Riley’s lips, hugging her.

“The way I see it, this is huge - we need to celebrate.”

Tags didn’t go out so heard:  Trying to tag here:  

Sorry if you get two tags :  

@queenjilian       @dcbbw      @bbrandy2002       @queenwalton

@secretaryunpaid      @sweatyrysconnoisseur       @khoicesbyk

@shewillreadyou     @lovingchoices14      @theroyalheirshadowhunter

@sfb123      @hopelessromanticmonie        @gardeningourmet

@indiacater      @busywoman       @camersworld       @queen-arabella-of-cordonia

@lovablegranny       @iaminlovewithtrr       @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful

@nala-raines        @jared2612      @waywardromancefantasygirl

@neotericthemis​

[starsstruck]

reclining venus

a friends-to-lovers in where photographer!mc is incited on a getaway in italy along with harry. golden sunsets, finished bottles of wine, and late night sketching.

pairing: harry x reader words:18.5k rated: M

an: after years i am back with something new ! hope everyone enjoys and tell let me know what you think ! would mean the world to me 💖💖 enjoy ! xoxo 💖 askbox  💖

                                                              ***

“I’m king of the world!”

Lazily looking up, the sun leaving your eyelids heavy. The sight of Harry standing near the edge of the small wooden boat, you smiled softly as you watched the way the breeze made his half-buttoned blue shirt blow behind him, and pushed some of his curls into his face. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corner of your lips.

Your mind drifted, thinking that in that moment he bore resemblance to Hugh Grant’s character in Bridget Jones Diary, standing up on a boat, on the verge of falling over. 

As if reading your mind, you watched his head turn as he met your gaze, wide grin across his face as he quoted the movie that was just on your mind. Letting out a breathy laugh, you matched his smile as you could just get a peek of his eyes behind his dark sunglasses.

“Gonna tip us over,” your voice was soft, as you sunk back to your albeit uncomfortable position, back and bum on the hardwood.

The small getaway to the north of Italy was one that you weren’t expecting, but had gladly agreed to. You had never been to visit the lakes and mountains in the north of the country, and had immediately fallen in love with Orta San Giulio.

You had been working with Harry for nearly two years now. First meeting him when you were working for the studio that shot the cover for his first solo album. You still remember very clearly rushing into work that day, immediately busying yourself once you had gotten in, having seen the plans for the set up.

Not noticing him in that large studio space at first, you had been in the middle of moving a softbox across the room when you had stumbled into him. You remember your mouth hanging open as an arm reached out to steady you, asking you if you needed a hand. He wasn’t even supposed to be on set yet, things were still being put in place but he had come earlier was chatting with people around the set. You hadn’t talked to him again until the very end of the day, when you, your boss and Harry had filtered through the many images of the day. You had been surprised by how easy the two of you had gotten along. The two of you had chatted away, he had even asked to see pictures from your portfolio.

You had seen him a couple times after that day, even grabbing lunch with him when the two of you were both too hungry to keep working. But what had really surprised you was when you got a call, and was asked to join him on tour. You had shown him some of the minor concert photography you had done, never really considering doing it full time.

Yet you still agreed.

After tour, there were periods where you would go some months without seeing each other, but you would always be called up and asked to help with a shoot. And now you found yourself, asked to come to Italy for what was described to you as “a vacation, maybe we’ll do a shoot. Maybe not. Just some time off!”

Again, you had agreed, loving the time you spent with Harry and everyone, and yourself needing a little break. Taking advantage of the situation, you had actually given yourself an even longer vacation after the week was up. You were truly taking advantage of this time to relax.

You were so happy you had agreed to come, lake Orta seeming to come out of a dream. The small town of Orta San Giulio was right on the coast of the lake, mountains surrounding the body of water. Right in the middle of the narrow end of the lake and across from the town, rested a little island with beautiful buildings. A week to explore the space around, you guys had already gone walking through the mountains are were itching to see more.

Today was a bit more of a lazy day.

No one was that energetic to do anything big, the group splitting up. Both Harry and you had been looking into getting out to the water, finding a little rowboat rental company out on the dock. Neither of you were too keen on doing the majority of the rowing, deciding to stop and let the soft waves slowly drift you guys along the water.

It was so nice to float along the water, soft rocking leaving you calm. You rarely got a day to simply enjoy yourself, always having something going on that need to be worked on. You knew that soon you would need to return to the real world, leaving the small bubble you seemed to have created here in Italy. You knew Harry felt it as well. What with his constant busy schedule, you had definitely noticed a change in your friend.

His eyes didn’t hold the same bags they sometimes would, his shoulders not tensed. Even now, the way he stood tall, breathing in the fresh air around him, sun hitting his back. You wished you had your camera with you, even just your phone to take a picture of him, but had decided against bringing anything with you.

Just as you were basking in your relaxation, you were pulled back to reality. As predicted, Harry had managed to stumble from where he was standing. Instantly pulled from where your eyelids rested heavy, skin warm in the sun, you were suddenly met with a stark coldness.

Confusion clouding your mind for a split second as you suddenly found yourself submerged underwater, instinctively making your way up to the surface. 

“Ass,” you muttered as you coughed the bit of water finding itself trapped in your mouth. You saw Harry treading next to you, sunglasses having fallen off his face, eyes gleaming as he met your stare.

“My bad,” were the only words leaving his lips, as he chuckled to himself softly, hand moving up to push some hair out from his face. 

You coughed again, as you watched Harry turn away from you, and swim up to where your boat was now flipped over. Grabbing hold of it, he turned back to face you, concern now lacing his features.

“Alright?”

Nodding, you swam over to join him, hand resting on the flipped boat. “Yeah, yeah.” Muttering, although you bit at the smile starting to form. “Just be glad we decided not to take anything with us. It’d be lost by now.” 

“Think I lost my shades,” Harry nodded, hand moving to where they used to lay perched on his nose.

“That’s what you get.” You couldn’t even feign annoyance towards him, laugh tumbling out after the words left your mouth. “Give me a hand here,” you changed the subject, as you tried to push back the boat upright. 

Succeeding, you were now faced with the challenge of how exactly to get back in. “I’ll help y’a out,” Harry said next to you, once again reading your mind. You nodded, as you placed your hand on the edge of the boat, hoping that you had enough strength to pull yourself up. One hand still holding onto the wooden boat for support, Harry stuck out his other hand under the water, motioning for you to use it as a step to help you up. 

Shakily, you tried to hoist yourself up, feeling Harry pushing you up from under your foot. Managing to get one leg halfway over, you knew you must look completely ridiculous at the moment as you tried to not so gracefully get out of the water. Body suddenly jolting, as you felt a firm hand on your bum, giving you the last push you needed before successfully getting back into the boat. 

“I’ve got half a mind to leave you here, if you can’t keep your hands off my ass.” Teasing, as you looked down to where Harry still floated in the water next to you.

“Just trying to help y’a out, love.” He shot back, small shrug on his shoulders. You watched as his tongue darted out of his mouth, licking his lips. You felt your cheeks warm, hoping there was enough sun in his eyes for him not to notice.

It was always like this with Harry. As you guys started working together more often, your relationship had always been friendly. Although, there was always a little flirtatious aspect to your relationship. You usually brushed it off, knowing Harry was like this with a lot of people, that you shouldn’t read too much the cheeky comments that were directed your way. 

But then there were the nights where Harry would keep his hand on your leg as you sat next to him, the nights where he pulled at you to sit closer. For all the times you would spend the night with him, of course always having a reason for why it was the most convenient, but maybe neither of you wanted to say that you wanted to spend the night in each other’s arms. 

The two of you were both the type of people who enjoyed embracing the people you cared about, small touches as signs of affection. So, it was only natural that when you shared a bed, Harry’s arm always ended up wrapped around you. Especially the nights where the pair of you had had a couple of drinks, Harry always being cockier and a bit grabbier. 

The night of Harry’s last show of his first solo tour, a warm summer night in Los Angeles. It was a happy night, Harry giving another amazing performance. You had always found yourself mesmerized with the way he was on stage. After the show had ended, you were backstage and already flipping through the images on your camera. 

There was a small party happening backstage, just a small thanks Harry was giving to everyone who had helped him with the album and the tour. Bottles of champagnes were passed around the room, as Harry was thanking members of his team personally. 

You had already had about two glasses of champagne before you finally got to talk to Harry yourself. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for an engulfing hug. 

“You were amazing,” you told him, voice quiet as your lips were near his ear. “Really amazing, tonight, this whole tour.” 

He pulled away from the hug, arms remaining around you. He was beaming, still on his high of performing and of all the love in the room for him. “Thank you, love.” He told you honestly. “And thank you for coming along, these shows can last forever because of your photography.” 

“Thank you,” you giggled at his words. “But I play no role in making the shows so incredible -” 

He cut you off before you could brush off his compliment. “Don’t say that, don’t even think it,” he was shaking his head at you. “You play a huge role. Can’t be where I am without you.” 

You knew his words were not completely true, but you didn’t try to fight him on it. “C’mon love,” Harry turned, arm still around your shoulders, “Let’s go celebrate.”

A group of you had headed out to some club in the city, more drinks passing between the bunch of you. Everyone was chatting away, excited, drunk, happy. Harry was seated next to you, arm around the back of your chair, hand once and a while grabbing at the skin of your arm.

You’d had no idea what time it was when you guys had decided to call it a night, head spinning and exhaust of the day finally catching up. You had stepped out before anyone, followed by Harry. He was once again pulling you in for a big hug, thanking you for the thousandth time that night. You giggled in his arms, as he pressed a kiss on the apple of your cheek.

But he didn’t move away. 

You felt his lips push more kisses onto your cheek, moving down to the corner of your jaw. They were light, spongey kisses, but they still made the breath stop in your throat. He paused beneath your earlobe; arms still tight around you.

You felt him press an open mouth kissed on the skin under your ear, hot breath against you sending shivers down your spine. Lips hovering, teeth dragging over your skin, hips jutting against yours. Just as quickly as it had started, it ended. He had untangled himself from you in a flash, as the rest of your group joined you outside.

You tried to control the flush growing on your neck, thinking it best to brush it off as the two of you were intoxicated and just affectionate people. But still you couldn’t shake the feeling of his lips on your skin.

You felt the boat rock once again as Harry put his weight to one side, trying to lift himself up. He held out a hand towards you, as he found himself in the same position you had been. “Help me out, will ya?” He exhaled, looking up to meet your eyes.

Wordlessly reaching out, own hand wrapping around his wrist as you tugged him towards you. Falling into the curve of the boat next to you, Harry let out a sigh as he caught his breath. Now out of the water and aware of the clothes that clung to his body uncomfortably, Harry leaned his head against the edge of the boat, head turning to face you. 

Mirroring his motions, you closed your eyes and let out a content hum. “Kind of nice actually, the feeling of the fresh water.” You murmured, sun heating up your skin once again as the two of you sat in silence.

Harry watched you, watched your eyelids flutter and close as you faced the sun, watched as you extended your limbs to feel the warmth all over your body. He followed the drops of water that were coming from your shorts as they ran down your drying skin, his fingers itching to reach out and wipe them off. Eyes trailing up your torso, he glanced at where the wet fabric of your tank top clung so beautifully to your skin. The swell of your breasts so evident, as the wet fabric left nothing to the imagination. 

Fuck, Harry couldn’t help but immediately notice how evident it was that you were not wearing a bra. He told himself to look away, that he shouldn’t be looking at you like that, that it would make you uncomfortable if you could see the way his eyes were glued to your body.

“Should be heading back,” Harry muttered, willing the image of your breasts to leave his mind before blood rushed down to his cock. Looking away and pulling himself up from where he rested, the movement and his words having you open your eyes. 

“Yeah,” You nodded, eyelids already feeling heavy again, as you fell back into your state of relaxation. “I’m getting hungry.”

                                                              ***

After dinner and a bottle of wine, the group of you were settled on the small balcony, basking in the warm night. You were in the midst of talking about the work you did outside of photography, after had prompted you about the years you had spent in art school. 

Where photography was your favourite medium to work with, along with video, you were still quite fond of drawing and painting as well. Having to experiment with different modes of creation when you were in school, you took a big liking to drawing and painting. However, you found yourself not able to express what you wanted the way you could with photography, appreciating the mediums for the way you could create an image with your hands. 

Still, you enjoyed sitting down and drawing with your friends, or a little still-life in front of you for fun. You kept your serious work, and your most honest work in your photography. 

You finished off the last of the wine in your glass, deciding to go grab some more. You excused yourself as you stood and head to grab the bottle that was still inside. 

The presence of someone else in the room startled you, as you poured yourself another glass. “Didn’t know you did much drawing.” Harry’s voice was low as he passed his glass to you, wordlessly asking for more wine. 

“Never asked,” you grinned at him, handing him back his glass as you took a sip of your own drink. Cheeks already warm from the wine, you felt them get even warmer as Harry’s gaze lingered on you. “Nothing big,” you continued after Harry remained silent. “Just drawing for fun.” 

“Draw people?” His words were slightly slurred together, as he spoke quietly. He leaned on the counter next to you, close enough for you to feel the warmth coming from him. You silently wondered how much he had to drink, as he intensely held your gaze. 

“Yeah,” voice sounding small, you cleared your throat before continuing. “Friends, nice views or photos that I take. Sometimes I like to draw people I see when I sit at a cafe.”

“You think you could draw me?” 

Slightly taken aback by his words, the thought had never crossed your mind. “Yeah? Didn’t know you would want that.”

“Already taking so many pictures of me, why not some drawings as well?” He shrugged his shoulders, finally looking away from you as he glanced down at the glass in his hands, taking another sip, licking the wine off his lips. 

You bit your lips together as his words, fighting a smile. “Can't get enough of yourself, can you?” 

A smirk tugged at his lips. “That’s right, love.” 

“We can tonight if you want?” Harry continued, watching your face for any sign to tell him that he was pushing his luck. “Draw, watch a movie or something, just the two of us,” he looked down to his hands again as he trailed off.

“I miss you.” The words came so softly from his lips, you almost missed them. They sent a rush through your body, as he met your gaze once again.

“Harry,” you couldn’t help the small laugh that pushed past your lips. “We spent all day together.” 

“I know,” he drawled out his words. “But we’ll be leaving soon, and I won’t get to see you every day anymore. Want t’spend time with you.”

Biting your lip again at his words, as you fought the blush that was warming your neck. “So tonight, yeah?” 

“Tonight.” You nodded, eyes soft, arm playfully bumping his before heading back to the balcony, Harry following not far behind.

You rejoined the group, listening to the conversation you had walked in on. Your eyes wandered over to Harry, finding him already watching you. Passing him a small smile, as you drank your wine and moved your gaze to the view around you. You couldn’t tell if Harry was acting different tonight, or maybe it was just the exhaustion from a relaxing day, mixed with a little too much wine. 

Soon, everyone was heading back inside, finishing cleaning up and heading off to bed. Drowsy from a from a day in the sun, the wine not helping with heavy eyelids. After saying your goodnights, you headed to your room in the shared apartment. 

Quickly changing, you put on your pyjama shorts and an oversized teeshirt, skin still warm as the night didn’t get very cold. Grabbing some pencils from your bag, and a large pad of paper that you did most of your sketching on, you headed down the hall and gave Harry’s door three quiet knocks. 

His door swung open, eyes meeting yours. You took in his appearance, noticing he had also changed, wearing a pair of black shorts and nothing else. You walked past him and into his room, a small “hi” leaving your mouth as you willed your eyes not to linger on his bare chest next to you.

You stood in his dimly lit room, unsure of where to situate yourself. His room, like yours, was small, a bed in the middle of the room and a small desk a chair to the side of the room. Harry had his things sprawled out over the desk, and the floor for that matter, luggage poking out of the closet to your right. You moved to sit on the chair, before Harry called you over to where he had sat on the bed.

“Here’s fine.”

“You sure? Don’t want to get eraser shavings all over the sheets.” You smiled as he waved your comment off, patting the spot across from him. Making your way over to join him, you sat crossed legged across from him, sketchpad on your lap. You watched as he fiddled with his phone, as the first notes of a Mazzy Star song started playing.

Placing his phone next to him, he faced you. “How d’you want me?” 

“Up to you, whatever is comfortable.” Opening up your sketchpad to a new page, grabbing the pencil resting next to you. “I’m gonna start with some fast and simple sketches, feel free to change poses whenever you want.” 

Harry extended his legs across the mattress, feet just hanging over the edge as he rested his head in his hand. Laying on his side, he watched your eyes move along his figure in front of you. 

“Haven’t done a drawing session like this in a while,” you murmured, as you began drawing rough shapes onto your page, eyes flicking up to Harry every once and a while. 

“Not many offering to pose for you?” Harry’s voice was low, eyes watching your hands as they skilfully moved the pencil on the page. 

“No, nothing like that,” letting out a breathy laugh, the thought of doing something like this not even occurring to you since you were a student. “Just never really considered it. Years ago, some friends and I would have nights where we would draw each other, and then I had to do some for class, but nothing since then.” 

Harry hummed, curious about your days spent studying art. “Had to sit around some naked guy, while everyone drew him? Like in the movies?”

You laughed, knowing exactly the stereotypical movie scenes he was talking about. “Yeah, actually, I did have to do that.” 

You saw Harry’s eyebrows shoot up, teasing at first but surprised he had been right. “Really? Fully nude?” 

Nodding, you flipped over the pages in your sketchbook as you continued your quick sketches. “Usually had a couple days of life drawing like this, different models, always nude. Supposed to see how the body moves and all that.” 

“Sounds hot,” you glanced up at Harry at his words, holding back a laugh. 

“Not a lot of people getting hot and bothered in class drawing an old man, Harry.” 

“Old man,” Harry exclaimed, dimples popping on his cheeks. “Very hot. Did you like school?”

Nodding, you matched his smile. “Yeah,” you stopped drawing, thinking about his question. “Yeah, I mean as much as it was tough, I still couldn’t imagine myself doing anything else.” 

You watched Harry nod at your words, bottom lip between his teeth. “What about you? Ever think about what you would have continued to study?” 

His eyes met yours, slow nod as he thought it over. “I mean, yeah, of course I’ve thought about it but,” he paused again. “Who knows what I would be doing. Like you said, where I am now, I couldn’t imagine myself doing something else.” 

You smiled at his words, telling him you were going to start actually drawing him instead of just outlines and to try not to move too much. Harry continued to talk about aspirations he had when he was younger, what could have been if he had never become a musician. He chatted away, moving constantly but you never said anything, happy to listen to him. 

One thing you loved about drawing people, especially people you knew, was that it always made you notice new things about them. You had spent enough time staring at him, and at his face, all those hours you’d spent editing pictures of him. But as you had him bare chested in front of you, you took your time to take in all the ways his muscles moved under his skin, off all the tattoos that covered his chest and arms.

You found it endearing really, the way he wanted to have art all over his body. 

“Wan’ to move, that’s okay?” His voice broke you from your thoughts, looking up from the paper in front of you. 

“‘Course,” voice low, as you admired the drawing you had started. Flipping the pad over to a new page, you waited until Harry stopped shuffling on the bed in front of you. 

You were a bit taken aback when you looked up at Harry. He sat comfortably, back leaning against the backboard of the bed, legs pointed towards you. He faced you so directly, eyes concentrated on you. He had been facing you before, but it had been much more casual, as he rested his head in his head. 

There was something just a bit more, intimidating, about the way he sat in front of you. 

As you started another drawing, a comfortable silence fell between the two of you. You were putting extra attention into this drawing, it being a little easier as Harry wasn’t moving around as much as before.

About half an hour passed before Harry started mumbling about his back feeling sore, and you decided it was a good place to end, knowing that you could go on and on nitpicking over a sketch.

“Can I see?” 

You don’t know why Harry’s question made you pause. Of course he would want to see the drawings you had done of him. Yet, you found yourself hesitating to show him. It just seemed like such an intimate moment, and the idea of sharing the drawings, even sharing them the person that you had been drawing, seemed like too much. 

“I,” you paused, unsure of what to do or say. “Want finish some details on them. Show them to you soon, I promise.” The lie left your lips easily, mind easing as Harry nodded along. 

“Perfectionist, yeah?” He smirked, nodding in understanding. “‘Course, love. We can do this again and you’ll show them to me later, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, biting back a smile. You don’t know why, the idea of Harry wanting to have you draw him again made you so happy.

“Want t’watch a movie, stay the night here?” His voice was quiet, smirk wiped from his face as he spoke tentatively. 

This time, you couldn’t help the smile that broke out. “Bridget Jones?” Ever since earlier that day as Harry recreated Hugh Grant’s actions on the boat from the movie, you had an itching to watch the whole film. 

He nodded along, very pleased that you had agreed. Harry quickly headed to the washroom as you moved up the bed and slid in under the thin sheets, the night too hot to need anything warmer. Harry quickly joined, grabbing his laptop and finding the movie to put on for the two of you. Pressing play, he shifted closer to you, one arm swinging around your back and pulling you in to him.

“That’s you,” you muttered, pointing to the screen when Hugh Grant fell from his boat into the water, right down to the blue shirt.

Harry shifted next to you, gazing down at you with eyebrows shot up. “Wha’? I’m a much better guy than he is.”

You beamed up at him, eyes slightly squinting to see him clearly in the dim room. “That’s true,” pausing, glancing between Harry and the character on screen. “Better looking than him too.”

Harry’s grin widened at your words. “Glad to hear it love.”

Placing your head back against his chest, you hummed as Harry’s fingers fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt, his grip around you tightening.

                                                              ***

Bare thighs hitting the hard material of the chair, you felt your dress ride up as you sat down around the table. Turning your head over your shoulder, you watched as Harry approached the table you guys had situated yourselves at, drinks in hand. 

“Gin and tonic for you,” Harry sat down next to you, knee bumping yours as he slid your drink over to you. Sipping his own drink, he watched as you picked up the lime from the rim, squeezing it so the juices from the fresh fruit dripped into your cup. Bring the wedge up to your lips, biting through the juices that remained in the fruit, before putting what was left of the wedge into your glass. 

Harry kept his eyes on your lips as you laughed at something Sarah said, as you tongue licked up the rest of the sour taste from your lips. Smiling to himself as he watched you repeat the same drink ritual for the hundredth time, as you seemed pleased with yourself after finally taking a sip.

“Can I try?” Your voice broke Harry out of his daze, as you pointed at the drink that he held. Passing his drink over to you, he chuckled to himself as you always asked to try what he was drinking. “You won’t like it.” 

Placing the glass to your lips, you quickly pulled it away after getting a small taste. Lips curving in distaste, your expression proving him right. “Mine’s better.” You nodded, passing his glass back to him, leaving a mark of your lipstick on the rim. 

You took another long sip of your drink, pleased with the way the cold liquid cooled you down, fingers wet from the condensation on the glass. Today the sun had been even hotter, leaving your skin warm and sticky after it set. 

The group of you fell into conversation, discussing various aspects of your day and of your time in Italy. Everyone seemed to have had a good time relaxing on this mini-vacation, no one wanting to leave the bubble you had created. 

“Have you figured out where you’re heading afterwards?” The question was directed at you, as you still had some time off after the shoot you had finished. The rest of them had to head to London, but you decided to take advantage of this much needed break.

“France,” you said, finishing off your drink. “Up to the mountains. Around the Alps. And then maybe the south for a couple days.”

You were looking forward to do some exploring on your own. Your work allowed you to travel, which was something you were beyond grateful for, but you rarely got the time to slow down and full explore the places you were in. You had been itching to come back to Italy and France, pleased that you finally could. 

As conversation settled on places traveled to and where was wanted to visit next, you excused yourself to the washroom and to go grab another drink, not feeling the effect of your first drink yet. Fixing your lipstick and blotting the dewy skin on your face, you headed from the washroom to the bar, ready for another drink.

Using your albeit rough Italian skills, you got yourself another gin and tonic. You felt a bit silly, getting a drink that you could order anywhere in the world, in a country that had such great wine. But you told yourself that it was better to buy a bottle, rather than an expensive glass at a bar. 

Waiting for your drink, and lost in your thoughts of which alcohol was the best bang for your buck, you failed to notice Harry come stand next to you at the bar. Hand sliding to the small of your back, lips hovering over your ear. 

“Getting another drink?” His voice was low, but you could still clearly hear him over the loud space around you. “Choose one for me?”

Before you could say anything to Harry, your drink appeared in front of you. Leaning in to talk to the bartender again, ordering Harry the same drink that you had been drinking all night. 

“You’re going t’have dreamy frenchmen hanging all over you in France.” He said as the two of you waited for his drink.

Breathy laugh coming from your mouth at his comment, you shook your head. “No way. I’m taking time for myself,” looking down at your drink, lime coating your fingers. “Just relaxing.”

“You gonna be okay by yourself?” Harry thanked the bartender, handing them some folded euros, eyes roaming back to yours.

“‘m a big girl, Harry.” You beamed, sipping your drink after adding your lime. 

Humourless chuckle escaping his mouth, he nodded. “I know, I know. Just worry about you is all.” 

You watched as Harry grabbed his lime wedge between his fingers, lifting it up to hold it in front of your mouth, silently telling you to take it between your teeth.

Obeying, you watched his smirk deepen as you grabbed the lime with your teeth. Thumb brushing against your lip as he pulled his hand away. He brought the same thumb to his own mouth, licking off any remaining juices from the sour fruit. Biting into the lime, you pulled the wedge out of your mouth, placing the slice into your own drink. You held his gaze, face feeling unbelievably hot. 

“Are you worried?” You teased, going back to what you guys were talking about before your little lime induced staring contest. “Or jealous.”

Harry shook his head, breaking your gaze. His hand came back down to the small of your back, leading you away from the bar and back to where your table sat outside.

“Can’t it be a bit of both?” His tone was teasing, but as you rejoined your group and watched as Harry scooted his chair closer to yours, you wondered if there was truth to his words. 

The night went on and the drinks flowed between your group, enjoying one of your last nights in Italy. As you sat back in your chair, watching the emptying streets around you, the sound of music and laughter being the only ones to fill your ears.

You also couldn’t help but feel hyperaware of every movement Harry made next to you. Every time his leg bumped yours under the table, every glance or smirk in your direction, every small nudge of his shoulder. 

You were at a point in the night, and maybe your intoxication, where Harry’s leg fully rested against yours, his arm spread over the back of your chair. You tried not to overthink the act, knowing that it didn’t mean anything, that you shouldn’t think it meant anything. Harry often swung his arm around the back of a chair, regardless of who was sitting there. Still, you couldn’t help the heat wash over your body at the thought of Harry longing to be closer to you.

After yawns started to fall from your lips, unable to participate in conversation anymore, you were about to suggest heading back. Harry, using his remarkable talent to read your mind, offered to walk with you as the others all wanted to stay for another drink. 

“You’re exhausted love, c’mon.” Harry stood from where he was sitting, waiting for you to do the same. You both said your goodbyes and goodnights to everyone, discussing your plans for breakfast the next morning, before walking back to the apartment building you were staying at. 

Although well into the night, the thin fabric of your dress and the humid air was enough to keep you warm. 

"Didn’t have to leave early with me.” You said, unsure if Harry had wanted to stay. “Told you Harry, I can handle myself.”

An ill-timed stumble on the cobblestones beneath your feet did not help you prove your point. Harry laughed at you, linking arms with you to keep you from stumbling further. 

“Bit drunk, aren’t you?” He grinned at you, dimples deep on his cheeks. “No,” you giggled into his arm, the word a lie but you knew him well enough to know that he was slightly intoxicated as well. 

“Right love,” he scoffed, “Guess you don’t need me to hold onto then?” 

You watched as he detached himself from you, talking long strides as he moved away from you.

“Harry,” you drawled out, already missing his skin against yours. You watched your steps this time, not wanting to trip on the uneven stones of the road. 

Harry stopped in his steps, watching you get closer to him. He laughed that loud laugh you loved to hear so much, holding out a hand for you to grab. 

“Look pretty tonight,” Harry suddenly found his voice quiet, as he watched you approach him and placed your palm on his. He hadn’t been able to go without being close to you in some kind of way tonight, like your body was a magnet pulling him in. 

He watched you, your features glowing softly in the dim light of the street. Hoping he wasn’t imagining what looked like a blush on your cheeks, he couldn’t stop himself as his free hand reached out under your chin. 

You didn’t say anything to his compliment, no words being formed in your mouth as Harry brushed his thumb gently over your bottom lip, over the remains of your lipstick. “Lovely colour on you.”

Harry’s hand titled your head up slightly, other hand that was laced with yours tugging you closer.

“Thank you,” were the only two words you could muster at that moment, barely a whisper. “You always look pretty too, Harry.” You immediately wanted to cringe as you heard the words coming out of your mouth.  

“Is that so, love.” Breath fanning over your face, that smirk reappeared on his face. “Always?” 

You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice, and watched as his eyes dropped down to your lips, thumb nudging them again. 

They lingered there for a moment, a moment far too long. The two of you were nearly flush against each other, one of your hands still laced together.

“Let’s head back, yeah?”  Harry whispered as took a step back, letting go of your hand and re-linking your arms. 

You didn’t say anything as you leaned into his arm, already overthinking the moment you had just shared. Part of you was beating yourself up for not being the one to make the first move. But the other part of you was terrified of what would happen, and needed him to be the one to make the first move. 

If you had been tired before, you were exhausted by the time you made it back to the villa. Heading immediately to the washroom when you walked through the door, wanting nothing more than to wash off your make up and brush your teeth. 

Leaving the washroom, you saw Harry waiting outside the door. “You want to,” he paused, as you stopped next to him. “Stay with me tonight? Don’t want t’sleep alone.”

You sucked your lips between your teeth, trying to bite back a smile as you faced him, nodding tentatively. Finding yourself unable to fight the smile on your face, you watched as his expression mirrored yours. “Gonna grab some water first.”

After forcing yourself to drink an entire glass, and refilling one to leave by the bed, you skipped past your room and made your way to Harry’s. 

Placing your water on the bedside table, you glanced around his room. Grabbing a shirt from the chair where Harry had left some thrown across the back, you quickly pulled off your dress and bra to change into the shirt before Harry came back from the washroom. 

Folding your clothes together and placing them next to your water, you slid under the sheets, happy to finally lay down. 

Harry held his breath as he left the washroom and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you through the open door, peeling your dress from your skin. He tried to make the least noise as possible, knowing he should look away. He was still a bit drunk, and still playing the moment he had almost kissed you over and over in his head. 

Your back was turned to him, and he could feel as blood rushed to his cock, as he saw you standing in only your blue underwear. Turning in his heels, he walked back into the washroom. Mentally talking himself down, he gripped the counter and shut his eyes praying he didn’t grow harder. 

You were already drifting into sleep in Harry’s bed, eyes fluttering open as you felt him finally join you in bed. You felt the mattress dip as he shifted closer to you, watching him as you lay on your side.

“Have a good day?” Harry whispered to you, body shuffling to his side so he could lay directly across from you. “Yeah,” you nodded, voice at a whisper as well. “Really good day. Really good time on this trip, too.”

Harry grinned at your words, pleased to hear you were enjoying yourself. “Me too,” he whispered, hand sliding over to wrap around your waist. “C’mere.”

He pulled you closer, rolling to his back and brought his other arm around you, waiting for you to lift your head for it to rest under you. Accepting the warmth of his skin against yours, even in the heat of the room. Once settled, mumbled a small goodnight to him. You couldn’t help smiling at the way you fit next to him, the way he itched to lay closer to you.

You glanced up at Harry as he muttered your name, not having a chance to react as his head dipped down, lips pressing a chaste kiss right at the corner of your mouth. Your eyes widened, barely registering the small “night love” that he mumbled, before dropping his head back down to the pillow.

You held your breath as you tried to slow your beating heart, certain that he would be able to feel it. He must have wanted to kiss your cheek, you thought to yourself, calming yourself. He’s drunk, he’s tired.

                                                              ***

Yours and Harry’s shoes shuffled on the stone steps that led up to your floor in the apartment you were staying in. Bags in hands that were hitting your legs as you walked up the steps, you were looking forward to something refreshing to drink along with a nice meal.

Everyone had split up today, having different ideas of what they wanted to do. Ever since your little rowboat adventure, both you and Harry had been itching to get to Isola San Giulio, the island that sat in the lake, not too far of from the mainland.

It had been another tranquil day, taking your sweet time to wander around the small island, cameras, both digital and film, at your hip. You often stopped Harry, telling him to stand in a certain spot as you took a few steps back to snap a shot of him, and taking extra special ones with your film camera.

Harry always pretended to be bothered by it, but you knew he wasn’t. He liked being your muse.

He would always grab at the camera, telling you that he wanted to get pictures of you as well, but was rarely able to pull the camera from your arm. Still though, he sometimes managed to get a few shots of you, showing you right after and telling you “pretty good, aren’t I? Got a knack for this, I think.”

Favourite thing were the deteriorating frescos that lined the walls of the basilica that sat in the middle, you want to take your time and admire every image. The day was just as warm, sun filtering through the island and leaving bits of golden yellow across the warm bricks.

After eventually coming back to the mainland, the two of you headed to a nearby market to pick up some vegetables, fresh pasta, and some wine. You let Harry do a lot of the talking with the local merchants, impressed with his growing Italian skills.

Placing the groceries in the kitchen, you stopped Harry once again as you reached for your camera. “Lights really nice right now,” you murmured, adjusting the shutter on your camera before pointing the lens at Harry. Soft yellow light as the sun would set in a couple hours, it shone around Harry as his back faced the peach coloured stone of the balcony.

He looked like a dream today. White teeshirt, that was simple but still fitted, tucked into some loose deep brown trousers. Dark blue silk scarf that was tied around his neck, you had once or twice untied it during the day, to tie around your own neck. “Look classy with an ascot,” you had said, as you admired your appearance with Harry’s scarf.

Harry had also admired you, liking the way it matched the rest of your outfit. You had been nearly exclusively wearing sundresses during your trip, today being no exception. Hem hitting the middle of your shins, the soft cream colour fabric jutted out from where it was tighter around your abdomen, small red and orange embroidered flowers trailing down the sides.

“Wine?” Harry’s voice pulled you back into reality, watching as he held up one of the bottles you had bought today. “Of course.” You beamed at him, placing your camera on the counter as you grabbed the vegetables from your cloth bag.

Starting to chop the courgettes, you hummed a quiet thank you to Harry as he passed you a wine glass. Glass hinting yours in a wordless cheers, you both sipped at the wine as you continued to make dinner.

Just over half an hour later, the two of you sat across from each other at the table on the balcony, enjoying your dinner and wine. Both very pleased with the result of your dish, chattering away as you finished up eating just as the sun started to set.

Harry sprang up, running inside before coming back out with your camera in hand.

“You’re glowing love,” he grinned, sitting back down before pointing the camera lens in your direction. The sun creating an orange glow all around, you hoped it hid your blush from his words. “Shift forward a bit.” He said to you, wanting until you listened.

He snapped a few pictures of you, grinning down at the camera as he checked them before passing it to you. “See? Beautiful. Need to let me take pictures of you more often.”

“Looks good Harry,” you smiled softly at his compliment.

The both of you stayed outside until the sun was fully set, passing the camera between each other and finishing the rest of the wine. It wasn’t until the bottle was finished that the two of you decided to head inside.

After clearing out you plates and dishes, Harry tugged at your arm as he urged you to draw him again. Easily agreeing, you couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness.

He sat himself down on the bed again, as you easily joined him with sketch book and pencils in hand. His eyes gleamed in the soft light of the lamp next to him, cheeks tinted red from the wine and wide grin on his face.

Repeating your actions from the night before, you started with small fast sketches of Harry as he lay with his legs sprawled towards you. He kept chattering away, again not doing his best at sitting still but it didn’t bother you at all.

Conversation slowing down between the pair of you, Harry rested his head against the wall behind him, eyes shutting softly. You might have thought that he was sleeping, if it wasn’t for the small comments he made once and a while, continuously asking if his pose was okay.

He shifted around a couple more times, settling on a pose with his back slouched against the pillows behind him, as you told him to try not to move for a bit longer.   You found yourself working faster today, maybe it was the wine that made your movements a bit sloppier, or maybe it was the familiarity that you had established with his body.

Conversation coming to a stop as you sat in a comfortable silence, you concentrating on the drawing in front of you and Harry enjoying watching you draw. It wasn’t until a few songs had passed in the silence, before Harry spoke up again.

“You said you used to draw people naked?” Harry broke the silence, as you focused on the detail of his shoulder. You hummed, eyes flicking to his, unsure of where he was going with this. 

“Think it would be better if I was naked?” He said, after a few seconds of silence. You felt heat rush to your face at his words, stopping your pencil on the page. 

“I think you’ve had too much to drink.” You said forcing a small laugh, willing yourself to look up at him. 

“I'm serious, love. Said so yourself, you can really see how the body moves.” His voice was devoid from any humour, but as you met his eyes you say that familiar gleam in them. 

He suddenly got up from the bed, shuffling over to where the desk was in the corner of the room. Your widening eyes followed him across the room, suddenly aware of how hot your cheeks were burning. 

“Harry,” you started to say, as if a small warning. Yet as you heard your voice, it was barely above a whisper. “Only if you want to, love.” 

Harry’s eyes searched yours, as he began to panic in your silence. Shit, what if he had pushed you too far? He didn’t want to scare you off, quite the opposite in fact. He watched as you slipped your lip between your teeth, seemingly thinking it over.

You knew that you should say no, that this was not something that you guys should do. The both of you had seen each other naked before, in quick glances of moments where you needed to change, or where you opened a door without knocking first.

But this was something very different. You already got a bit flustered around him, and you couldn’t help but overthink every time he was extra touchy with you. You knew that he was just that kind of person, and that he acted that way with a lot of people. But every time his leg rested against yours when he sat next to you, or his arm swung around your shoulders to hold you close, you felt like he wanted to be closer to you.

You knew that you should say no to him. That this wasn’t a good idea, that you were both a little tipsy on all that wine that was finished off, and that this could might not be a great idea. You never even really did this with your friends, you guys always posed clothed for each other.

Yet, you still found yourself giving him a nod, as you turned to face him. 

Relief washed over Harry, as he heard the word “Yeah,” leave your lips in a hushed tone. “Yes,” you repeated a little louder, as you flipped to a fresh page to draw on. 

Looking away from Harry, you again couldn’t help the blush that was creeping up your neck. What the hell were we doing.

You felt your mouth go dry when you looked back up at him. Shirt pulled off his shirt, and his trousers had been pushed down his legs, along with his briefs and pushed them to the side. Your eyes scanned his long legs, to his abdomen. You willed yourself not to stare too long at his newly exposed cock, but you couldn’t help but notice how long and thick he was; mind wandering as you imagined just how heavy he would feel in your hand, or mouth. 

Harry couldn’t help the small smirk that played at his lips as he watched your eyes scan him. Not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable, he quickly sat down on the chair facing you. “Sit however I want?” His voice broke the silence that had set in the room.

You nodded, trying to shake any dirty thought from your head as you shifted on the bed a bit, making yourself comfortable. “I’ll just do one I think, one pose for longer if that’s okay?” You finally managed to meet his gaze.

“’ Course.” He nodded, as he settled on a pose he was okay with staying in for a while, leaning back in the chair and crossing his bare legs. He didn’t mind sitting put in the slightest, loved watching you as you worked, as your eyes scanned his skin. 

You silently began your work, soft music from Harry’s phone being the only sound in the room. There was faint noise coming from the city outside, but you felt like the two of you were in your own world up here. The two of you sat in silence, only once and a while making small conversation, or humming along to whatever song was playing.

You don’t know how long you sat and drew him, could’ve been half an hour, could’ve been two hours. You don’t think your cheeks ever stopped flushing, being so close and so intimate with Harry like this.

When you finally decided that you were done, you folded your sketchpad placing it next to you and let your shoulders drop with a sigh. “’ M done.” You told Harry, watching his eyes perk up at the sound of your voice. 

His movements were slow, stiff from sitting in the same pose for so long. “Can I see? Haven’t shown me any drawings yet.” He moved up from the chair, and you couldn’t help your eyes drop down to his crotch again.

“I’ll put my pants back on I promise.”

You grinned up at him, feeling more at ease again after the initial awkwardness of when he had dropped trow in front of you.

“Yeah,” you grinned, oddly more at ease to show Harry your drawings now. You flipped through the book as he pulled his pants back on. You felt the mattress sink next to you as Harry sat down, leg against yours. You handed him the book, watching as he took in the sketches.  

You observed his reactions as his eyes skimmed over each line, turning the pages. He stopped when he reached the more detailed sketches from earlier this night, from before he got naked. He spent the longest time looking at them, not flipping to the last one yet.

“These are beautiful,” his voice held a slight rasp, as he looked up at you. 

“Narcissist.” You muttered, teasing him. “I’m serious,” he breathed out your name, along woth a humourless laugh. “They’re crazy detailed for the amount of time, but,” he trailed off, staring at them more intently. “I don’t know, you really just got me y’know?” He said, gazing back down to the drawing. “You just,” He trailed off again, not sure how to express what he was saying. “You captured me so well.”

Another blushed crept up your cheeks at his compliment. “Thank you, Harry. Really,” you smiled softly at him.

“’ Course love,” he smiled back. “You know I’m your biggest fan.” You trailed your eyes over his face, watching the way he smiled fondly at you, the way his dimple popped out, the way his eyes crinkled in his good humour. 

Finally, as your gaze met his once more, you watched his eyelashes flutter, pupils wide and dark. Before you could even think of biding your goodnights, Harry’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Stay again tonight?”

You had to bite back the smile building on your lips. 

You had already made up your mind at his question, of course wanting to spend another night in his arms. It was the look in his eyes, one you couldn’t quite place. His pupils dilated, as he looked up at you through lashes. “Please?”

 “Of course,” you breathed out, almost wanting to reach forward and push his hair out of his face, but thought against it. “Want to change first, I’ll be back in a sec.” 

Quietly walking to your room, you changed into your pyjama shorts and a loose tank top. Stopping by the washroom before heading back to Harry’s room, you gazed at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were still flush from the number of drinks that you had. Or maybe it was from being so close to Harry’s naked body for so long. Wiping your face down with cool water, you wiled the blush away before heading back to Harry.

He watched you walk back into his room, closing the door behind you. You smiled softly at him as he looked up to you. His eyes watched, his cock twitching in his shorts as your nipples noticeably press against the fabric of your shirt. Control yourself, he thought to himself. Harry knew he was already pushing his luck with you, especially keeping you here in his bed with him. 

You noticed he had the sketchpad still resting on his lap, sitting yourself next to him and obeying as he motioned for you to shuffle in closer to you; only happy when your side was fully pressed against his.

“Drew something for you.” Harry’s voice rumbled in your ear. 

You turned towards him, watching as he reached for the sketchpad that you had left. He flipped through it, finding the page he wanted to show you, tapping on the little mess of scribbles he wanted to show you. It was a small stick figure, with a few odd added features that you figured were meant to resemble you, with your name scribbled overtop. 

“What’s that?” You breathed out, small giggle in your voice. You pointed to a small mess of lines next to your name. “What?” Harry laughed from next to you. “Its a heart!” 

“Harry that does not look like heart.” Giggling as you glanced at him, watching his lips turn down to a pout. “Could be one,” he muttered, hint of a smile in his voice.

Harry flipped over the book on his lap, nude drawing of Harry in front of you. “This is seriously incredible,” he murmured, voice serious again. “Was it weird for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he paused, glancing from the drawing to you. “Was it weird, drawing me naked and all?”

You bit your lips together between your teeth, not knowing where he was going with this, and not knowing what to say.

“Because I didn’t think it was. ‘M comfortable with you, y’know?” He mumbled, eyes not leaving yours. You had to glance down, feeling heat rush to your face.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” you whispered, eyes stuck on the drawing that you had just done of him.

“Las’ thing I wan’ to do is make you uncomfortable, love.”

“Harry, I’m not...” The words died in your throat. 

As you turned your head to face the man next to you, your breathing felt like it had come to a stop. His face that was already turned towards you, was inches away from yours, noses nearly brushing.

You swallowed thickly, eyes flicking between his. His gaze was intense, eyes dark, a fact that you don’t think could be blamed on the wine anymore. You looked down to the sketchpad on both of your laps, as his hand smoothed over the paper until the tip of his fingers met yours. 

“Harry...” You could barely hear your own voice as you spoke his name, heartbeat drumming in your ears. 

“‘s just me, love,” his voice rasped in your ear, body shifting closer to yours as you watched his fingertips dance over your skin down on the paper in front of you. You could feel his nose brush over the top of your ear, lips only brushing on the skin over your jaw. 

Not moving, you refused to look up at him. Maybe you wanted to prolong his begging or maybe you were too afraid to make the first move, it was probably a bit of both.

He muttered your name on top of your skin, breath hot on your neck. He wasn’t so much pressing kisses on your skin, as he was brushing his lips on you. “It’s just me.”

“Please, love.” 

His voice was thick, tortured even. 

Bottom lip lodging itself between your teeth, you looked up at him. His eyes were rapidly searching your face, breath mixing with your own.

Within the blink of an eye, his lips met yours. 

Mouth so light against yours, he whispered your name. Tentatively giving you a kiss, a soft kiss, his other hand sliding behind your head. Fingertips lightly scratching into your scalp, letting out a small sigh as all he wanted was more of you. 

A sigh left Harrys lips as he whispered your name over your mouth again, leaving small, hints of kisses against your own lips. A whine built in his throat, calling you to be closer to him. Lifting a hand up to his cheek, you scratched your fingertips against his skin as your lips rested barely a millimetre apart, breath mixing together.

Warmth rushed through your body as his lips finally fully slid over yours, hot and eager as he puckered his lips against your own in small kisses.

Mind void from any other thought or worry you had before, filled with nothing but Harry as he filled your senses. A small gasp made its way from the back of your throat as Harry’s tongue heatedly pushed past your lips mouth gladly opening for him. Harry grazed into your mouth, arm around you pulling you closer to him.

Kiss growing in fervour since the hesitant brushes of lips it had started as, Harry could hear nothing but his heartbeat loud in his ears, along with the series of soft exhales and gasps that were leaving your mouth. The same mouth that Harry longed to feel against his, the same mouth that was currently pressed eagerly against his.

“Christ,” Harry grunted, voice low as you tugged on his hair. “Thinking about this…” he muttered against your mouth, lips briefly leaving yours to kiss the corner of your mouth, moving down to your jaw and then neck. His mouth open, breath hot, making your spine tingle with every wet kiss on your skin. “Wanting this.”  A sigh left your mouth as his teeth lightly nipped at the skin under your earlobe.

“Harry,” his name was a whine, pulling his attention away from your neck, as his eyes searched yours. Pupils wide, eyes dark and filled with desire, longing for you. His breath leaving his lips in small pants, chest rising against yours.

“Love, I –” He cut himself off, brow furrowing as he watched you intently, waiting for you to speak up again. You felt his hand on yours, still resting on the paper on both your laps, his fingertips grazing over your hand and moving up to hold your forearm.

“Harry,” you repeated, already feeling cold without his lips on yours, even as he sat almost completely pressed against you.

He watched as you freed your arm from his grasp, grabbing the pad of paper that had since been filled with drawings of Harry. He watched as you tossed it on the floor next to you. A long breath of air was pushed from his lips, his eyes remaining locked with yours.

He drew out your name, voice low, voice needy, as he followed your every movements. Shifting your body next to his, you lifted a leg over his lap, sitting yourself on his thighs as you straddled him. Free hand joining the other around his neck, you watched as a smirk tugged at his lips, eyebrows raising at you slightly. His expression had relaxed from a few seconds ago, when you had pulled away from him and he thought you were on the verge of running away. Instead he found himself even closer to you, chests pressed against each other, one hand gripping the nape of your neck and the other lacing around your waist as he kept you close.

“Want you too, Harry.”

A beat passed between the two of you, before your mouths molded together once again. Lips immediately hot against one another, Harry licking deep into your mouth as you returned his fervour. You felt his chest rumble with a moan against you, as your fingers tugged at his curls, loving the way it made him react against you.

His grip was tight on your waist, other hand moving away from your neck, gripping you wherever he could. You whimpered into his mouth as both hands found themselves over the curve of your ass, fingertips digging into your skin as it prompted you to shift your hips closer to his, heat rushing to your core as you rubbed over him.

“God love,” Harry groaned, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, before pulling away from you to catch his breath. “You are…” his lips immediately found your skin again, grazing the skin under your jaw. “God I’ve dreamt about this.”

His voice was a whisper, a deep, raspy whisper that somehow made you radiate with even more heat against him.

His mouth moved over your collarbone, meeting the strap of your tank top, gripping it with his teeth as he moved it to the side and over your shoulder. One of his hands tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it down just enough to expose the top of your breasts. Lips following the curve of your chest, sucking and nipping the skin that had been newly exposed to him.

You moved one of your hands away from the back of his head, open palm smoothing his exposed chest. The room was hot, the air between the two of you searing hot, but somehow Harry found himself shivering as your nails gently trailed down his chest.

Hips inadvertently rolling over Harry’s as his large hand still gripped your ass, you could feel the heat radiating off him, could feel him grow harder underneath the thin layers of fabric that separated the two of you. Hand guiding your hips to repeat the action, Harry groaned against your skin, lips finding yours once again.

Hand trailing up under your shirt, calloused fingers stopping by your ribs. The whine into his mouth as he pressed hot, sloppy kisses onto your lips, was the only urge he needed to grab your breast in his hand, tugging at your nipple between his index and thumb. Back arching at his action, pressing your chest against his hand as you craved more of his touch.

“Can feel you,” you panted, voice nearly incoherent as you trailed your mouth away from his. Tongue gliding over the skin of his neck, you caught the skin under his jaw between your teeth. “Can feel you everywhere.”

Pulling away from his neck, you tugged at his hair, watched as his eyelids fluttered open. The sight of you before him was enough for him to let out a low moan. Your lips red and puffed, eyes glazed over, tank top falling off of your shoulders.

Harry’s appearance matched yours, hair tousled, his eyes gazing at you zealously. “Can I,” he rasped, fingertips trailing over your waist. “Can I touch you.” His words were almost more of a demand rather than a question but he still didn’t move, waiting for your answer.

You quickly nodded, not trusting your voice to be coherent. He leaned in again, mouth over the shell of your ear. “Gotta tell me love.”

Clearing your throat, your voice sounding hazy as you muttered into the air. “Want you,” Harry pulled his mouth away, gaze meeting yours again.

“Thought about yours fingers on me, want them.”

His mouth hanging open for a second, before scurrying a hand around the band of your pyjama shorts. Fingers trailing under the waistband, you breathed out his name as he fingers moved slowly, barely brushing over your skin.

“Harry,” you groaned, rutting your hips forward, feeling yourself absolutely throbbing for him.

You watched his face, watched a grin line his lips as he watched you writhe on top of him. He loved watching you like this, knowing he would never be able to get over seeing you on top of him, pleading for you. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want, love,” he rasped. “Tell me what you’ve thought about; thought about me doing to you.”

Another whine was heard from your mouth, knowing he was loving having you so powerless to him, even as you sat on top of him.

You swallowed thickly, licking your lips before agreeing to what he wanted. “I – I’ve thought about your fingers, on my clit.”

You gasped as soon as you spoke, feeling his index finger press through your folds until it met your clit. He rubbed light, slow circles on it, before stopping to urge you on. “Then what?”

“I thought – I want you to feel how wet I am.” Your lips moved towards his skin again, sucking softly as you made yourself down his neck and flattened both hands over his chest.

“Jesus fuck,” Harry groaned your name, finger pushing itself through your wetness. His palm flattened against you, moving slick finger back to your clit. “So wet, dripping for me, hm?”

Your answer was a moan, rejoicing as he applied pressure on your clit once again. “For you…” You mumbled circling your hips on Harry’s hand as he rubbed slow, hard circles on your clit.

“All f’me,” Harry muttered to himself, quietly, repeatedly, as if he couldn’t believe it.

And truthfully, he couldn’t believe. So many times, he pulled his eyes away from you, not wanting you to notice him staring at you. So many times, he thought about you as he held his cock in his hand, your name lacing his moans. So many times, he held you close any chance he got.

Now here he sat with you situated yourself on top of him, lips hungrily nipping at his skin; his hands down your shorts as you impatiently moaned for him.

His movements on your clit speeding up, your kisses getting sloppier as whimpers fell freely from you mouth. Suddenly stopping, his voice above you pulling your attention away from his chest and back to his face.

“What next, love?”

“In me,” the words left your mouth in a rush. “Want your fingers inside of me.”

He followed your words, middle finger sliding down your folds, slowly pushing into you. Watching you react to him, he smirked as your eyes fluttered closed, sucking your lips in between your teeth.

“Like that?” His finger pumped slowly inside of you, curling roughly in a way that made you collapse your chest against his.

“Yes,” you breathed out, feeling him find a pace, as his thumb moved up to press small circles on your clit. You pressed yourself against him, circling your hips on his finger as you craved more of him. You could feel him hard under you, the thought of him hot and heavy making you clench around his finger. “More,” the word was strangled, as you panted on top of him.

Harry soon slipped in another finger, stretching you wider. You loved the way he felt inside of you, moan slipping past your lips at the thought of how his cock would fill you. The image of him bare in front of you earlier on that night flashed through your mind, imagining how he would look now, full and hard for you.

You felt the building of an orgasm in the pit of your stomach, heat rushing through your body. Harry’s pace on your clit increased, feeling you clench around his fingers.

“’ m close.” You moaned, although Harry already knew. He watched as you clung to him, nails digging into his bare chest. Your breath was heavy, small whines building in the back of your throat, and you tried to bite back your moans, mostly unsuccessful in doing so.

He pushed his fingers deep inside of you, curling them and hitting that spot that made you gasp his name. “Harry I –” you warned, unable to hold back your climax.

“Go ahead,” his lips neared your ear, urging you on. “Want you to come for me.”

You pulled your head from his chest at his words, meet his gaze. Harry reveled in the way your eyes were glazed over in desire, cheeks red as he moved to push you over the edge.

Your lips slotting against his, you left lazy kisses on his mouth before feeling your jaw go slack. Orgasm coursing through you, you stilled your hips, feeling yourself clench around his fingers. Nails digging into his chest, lip biting down onto his bottom one, you tried to stifle the moan that had been building, released from your throat as Harry made you cum.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he watched as your tried to regain your breath, grip loosening on him as you detached yourself from him. Harry pulled his hand from your shorts, watching his fingers coated with your arousal. Your eyes followed his hand as he moved his fingers into his mouth, moan rumbling from his chest as he tasted you.

“You’re incredible,” he muttered, wet fingers gripping at your thigh. He leaned in, kissing you slowly, deeply. You hummed against his mouth, as if returning his comment. You trailed your hands down over his shorts as you kissed him, palm sliding over his covered cock.

You trailed your hands down over his shorts as you kissed him, palm sliding his covered cock. You felt him jerk against you, lips pulling away from yours for a second.

“I – don’t worry about me love,” Harry murmured, hand rising to cup your face. “I mean, we don’t have to keep going.”

You smiled up at him, moving in to press a small kiss to his lips. His concern over you comfort moved you, but you did want to keep going.

“Want to though,” you said as you pulled away from his mouth. Smile on your lips, words slow as you spoke them. “Want to have you inside of me.”

Harry’s mouth hung open for a second, your name rumbling in the back of his throat. His ears were ringing, all his focus set on you in front of him.

“I…” hands brushing along the skin on his waist, needing to remind himself that this was really happening, that you were really sitting here with him, asking him to fuck you.

“If you want,” you quickly added.

“You,” he pressed chaste kisses along your cheek, until his lips met you ear. “You want me to fuck you?” His words were slow, drawing out every word, leaving goosebumps down your neck.

“Yeah,” you sighed into the air, wanting so badly to feel him closer to you.

“Harry I – I want you to fuck me. Please.”

His fingers dug into the hips at your words. “Such a dirty mouth,” he gulped, inhaling sharply.  

He kissed you, desperate and hard against you. “Take this off,” pulling at the hem of the thin tank top barely covering your chest, wanting to feel you completely against him.

Obeying, you broke apart from him for a beat to tug the shirt over your head, throwing it to the side. His eyes immediately dropping down to your newly exposed chest, hands sliding up your ribs to grab at the swell of your breasts.

Head dipping down, lips leaving kisses down your skin, sucking softly. You hummed appreciatively when his lips circled around your nipple, tugging it between his teeth. His hand grabbed at your other breast, massaging and tugging at the skin.

Your own hands scrapped over the band of his shorts, fingers dipping past the waistband of his briefs, flattening your palm over his bulge, hand wrapping around him. You remembered the way he looked naked in front of you, thinking that he would feel thick and heavy in your hand. And you were right.

He felt even bigger in your palm, hips bucking into your hand. Moving your hand down his shaft, thumb rubbing over his tip collecting the bit of precum that had gathered. He mumbled your name, pulling his head away from your chest as your other hand tugged at his hair.

You moved down his lap a bit, shifting away from him enough to pull his shorts and briefs down his thighs, shifting for him to kick them off and to the floor next to you.

Your mouth gaped open, watching as his cock laid thick and hard against his abdomen. He smirked at you, watching as you were unable to pull your eyes away from him.

Staring unashamedly as your hands reached forward to wrap around him once again.

“Earlier,” Harry groaned, hips bucking into your hand. “Took everything I had to not get hard, when you were drawing me.”

You hummed at his words, pleased to hear you weren’t the only one thinking of lunging on the other, when he sat naked for you as you drew him. He watched as you lifted yourself on your knees, fingers pushing on your shorts as you tugged them over your hips, hooking each leg out of them as they joined the clothes on the floor.

“Fuck I…” Harry groaned, eyes scanning your bare body. “I don’t have a condom.” He met your eyes, sudden panic filling him. “ ‘m clean I swear, I would never…”

You nodded, cutting off his rambling. “Me too,” right now wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you. “Clean, I mean. ‘M on the pill too.” Words barely a whisper as they left your lips, voice hoarse. “Harry please, want you in me.”

You shuffled closer to him on his lap, raising your hips so your folds slid over his cock. He pressed a long heavy kiss to your lips, muttering against your mouth.

“Christ love, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

A hand placed over yours, he gripped the base of his cock, as his other hand held your hips against him. Moving your hands to his shoulders to hold yourself, as you slowly sank down around his length.

The two of you let out shaky breaths, your cheek resting against his shoulder as you felt him fill you. You paused, not used to his size. “You okay?” He muttered onto your temple, waiting for you to move against him.

Lifting your head, you nodded weakly, slowly circling your hips over him. One of his hands moved to grip your ass, as the other held tightly to your waist. He was pressed tightly against you, skin hitting yours as your chest quickly rose and fell.

“So full,” you choked out, watery eyes meeting his. Harry felt his cock twitch inside of you, seeing you completely falling apart on top of him.

“S’okay, love.” He murmured softly, head dipping down to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Take your time.”

You lifted your hips on his, moving on him in slow, hot movements. Your head burying back into the crook of his neck. You could feel him everywhere, skin completely flush against yours. He was so deep inside of you, hitting deliciously in all the right places.

You set a slow pace, feeling him rub everywhere inside of you. Harry’s hips pushed into yours as he moved with you, trying to stop himself from roughly thrusting into you.

Harry loved the sound of the pants, laced with small whines as they left your throat. He wanted to hear nothing but that, along with the way you called his name as you felt him everywhere inside of you.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he grunted into your ear, lips kissing and teeth tugging at your skin. “Taking me in so good.”

Hips rocking over his, you tried to speed up your pace, wanting to feel him tight against you. “Harry,” your throat rasped, voice strangled as you spoke his name, fingers tugging at his shoulders.

“Harry,” you said louder, tugging tightly at his hair. “More,” was the only word you were capable of forming, hoping he could understand your strangled words. “Want more.”

Gripping your thighs tightly, Harry gave no warning before rolling you over. You suddenly found him flush on top of you, hair dangling in your face as he pulled you in for a kiss. Large palm hooking itself under your knee, pulling your leg up as he urged you to hook up legs tightly around his waist.

He groaned at the contact, feeling himself even deeper inside of you. “Good?” He asked, checking with you before moving.

Muffled moan being heard from you as you quickly nodded, wanting him so desperately to move.

Moving his hips on yours, his hips snapped back against yours in short rough thrusts into you. You clenched around him at the new contact, eliciting your name to fall from Harry’s mouth in a short strangled cry.

“Don’ fucking do that,” he said, voice clipped and pausing for a second, before continuing his deep thrusts into you. “Wanna las’ for you.”

He continued his momentum over you, as you arched yourself to be closer to him, fingers digging into the skin on his back. Only sounds to be heard were of skin against skin, and with breathless heaves mixed with the moaning of names, and the panting of curses and calling to gods.

His hands were everywhere on you, palming over your breasts, your thighs, your hips. His fingers dug into the skin of your ass, pushing you up to meet his skin, your back arching as you whimpered at his pressure.

Harry bowed his head, looking down where his hips connected to yours. He found it so incredibly hot, as he watched himself sink in and out of you. His name was falling freely from your mouth, calls getting louder, spurring him on. He wanted nothing other than to watch you unravel for him again.

“Fuck Ha –” you whined. “Harry more, more.” Small tears forming in the corner of your eyes once again, getting caught in your eyelashes as you squeezed your eyes shut.

You felt your second orgasm building in you, unable to hold back. You moaned especially loudly as you felt a hand snake in between of your bodies, long finger dragging onto your clit, pressing, rubbing at it deeply.

“Tha’ s it love,” he mumbled, watching you grow more frantic under him. Head ducking down again, this time to connect his lips to the skin your chest, biting as he urged you on. “You desperate?” He continued. “Want me to fuck you hard? Want to cum around me?”

You were overwhelmed with sensation, having him fill you so tightly, his finger rubbing on your incredibly sensitive clit, his hair tickling your jaw and his mouth licking and biting at your skin.

So completely overwhelmed with the bubbling climax in the pit of your stomach, your gripped onto Harry so tightly you were sure to draw blood under your nails.

“Go on love,” Harry urged softly, the grin evident in his words. Your eyes were squeezed shut, teeth digging into your lips as you tried to stifle the moans of his name.

The combination of Harry hitting the same spot repeatedly inside of you, your senses filled him. The hot heat from his skin, his voice in your ears, his cologne. It was all too much for you, as you felt him push you towards your climax.

“Harry,” falling apart under him, you writhed as you held him close to you, walls clenching around his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm, pace slowing down as his felt himself start to twitch inside of you. Your thighs squeezed him tight, ankles hooking behind him as you thrust your hips up into his. Arms were wrapped tightly around him, nails dragging into his skin. You felt dizzy, eyes squeezed shut as you couldn’t help yourself from crying out.

Slowly, starting to calm down from your climax, Harry watched as you opened watery eyes, gazing up at him with nothing but lust. Sense of satisfaction filling his head as he moved to kiss the corners of your eyes, wiping away the small tears that spilled over.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned your name, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to last for much longer. “You’re unbelievable.”

He kissed his way down your face, his lips buried in the crook of your neck as you quietly urged him on, voice hoarse as you wanted him to finish inside of you.

“Cum f’me,” you rasped, eyes lazily gazing down at him, moving a hand up to brush through his hair.

Pressure unbearable for Harry, he halted on top of you, only movement being of his hips grinding tightly on yours as he fell off the brink. You could feel him pulse, hot bursts as he came inside of you. His teeth dug into your shoulder, your name hot on his lips as he let out heavy pants. He praised you endlessly, words nonsensical as they spilled out of his mouth. He was a mess.

Eventually lifting his head, eyes hazy as he grinned down at you and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. Staying like that for a moment, neither of you moving as you lay tight against each other. Shaky arms pushing himself up, he pulled himself out of you, and rolled over to his side.

“Le’ me get you cleaned up.” He mumbled, eyes trailing over you as he watched the mess he created at the corner of your thighs.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered, rising on the bed. You turned to the edge of the bed, legs wobblily as you situated yourself on your feet.

“Coming right back, yeah?” Suddenly worried that you might already regret what the two of you just did.

“‘Course,” you giggled, before shuffling out of the room and into the washroom. After peeing and cleaning yourself up the best you could, you caught a glance of your reflection in the mirror.

You had sex written all over your features. Lips dark and swollen, eyes hazy and hair a mess. Marks on your breasts from where Harry had sucked, already turning purple.

About to leave the washroom, you paused in your steps. You could hear the rest of the group, you could hear the key slid into the lock. As quietly as you could, you ran from the washroom to Harry’s room, quickly closing the door behind you.

Turning around, you saw Harry lounging back on the bed, pair of briefs now covering his hips. He had tossed the sheet on the floor, replacing it with a new one you assumed he had grabbed from your own bed.

You scurried over to grab your discarded clothes on the floor, looking up as Harry made a sound of protest. “Want you to wear my clothes,” he said, pointing up to where he had set some of his own clothes for you to wear.

You grinned at him, bringing your finger to your mouth in a shushing motion, trying to tell him the others had come home, thinking it was probably best that they thought you were asleep instead of naked together.

Pulling the boxers and shirt on, you quickly shut off the lights in the room and slid on the bed next to him. “They’re home,” you whispered, accepting his arm that pulled you closer to him.

He didn’t say anything to that, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head. “You okay?” He said instead, trying to read what you were thinking about what just happened.

“Yeah,” you mumbled against him, small nod of your head as you couldn’t help your grin at his concern for you. “Tired.”

“That was,” Harry’s chest resonated under your head as he spoke. “That was unbelievable, yeah?”

You could feel him watching you, unmoving. You lifted your head, eyes meeting his. “Yeah, it was.” Your voice was shaky with a laugh, still in a daze.

You felt him sigh against you, body relaxing with yours as you settled your head back against his chest. “Good,” he muttered, so quietly you nearly missed it, before you drifted off to sleep.

                                                              ***

Harry woke up before you.

His arms were still wrapped around you, bodies flush together, sunlight filling the room.

His left arm felt a bit numb, as it rested underneath your head, but he didn’t mind. The two of you had fallen asleep almost immediately the night before, as soon as you rested your head on his chest you had dozed off, Harry following quickly as he watched your chest rhythmically rise and fall.

He hadn’t had time to properly reflect on the time you guys had together the night before, the time you guys spent with hot lips and wandering hands. Harry had thought about sex with you before, more than he’d like to admit. But the one thing he never really got around to thinking about, was what would happen afterwards.

Not wanting to move around too much to wake you up, he lifted his head up to glance around the room. Clothes were scattered around the floor, along with the sketchbook that was thrown aside when you had moved to sit on his lap.

Head hitting the pillow once again, he tugged you closer to him as he replayed the events on the night before over and over again in his head. For as long as Harry thought about it, dreamt about it, nothing compared to the reality. The way you had gasped, whimpered and whined for him, the way you had clung to him so tightly. The way you had fit so perfectly with him. Harry couldn’t believe it.

Just as Harry thought about what to say to you when you woke up, you stirred in his arms. He froze, trying to slow his heartbeat down and maybe pretend he had just woken up as well.

He didn’t know why he was so stressed all of the sudden, but he couldn’t help but think that maybe you would slide out of his arms and pretend like nothing ever happened. He watched as you rolled onto your back, Harry’s arm sliding across your stomach as you moved.

Your eyes were still shut, and for a second Harry thought you were still asleep.

“Can feel you watching me,” your voice suddenly broke him out of his daze.

Not being able to help the grin breaking out on his face, he didn’t try to hide the fact that you had caught him. He hummed, now that you were awake finding the chance to move his arm from under you. “M’ arms numb.”

You felt his arm wiggle out from under your head, shaking it out when it was free. He rolled over onto his side, still facing you and making sure to keep his other arm wrapped over your waist.

“Sleep well?” Harry watched as you rolled over onto your side, facing him.

“Yeah,” he spoke lowly, voice still raspy from sleep. “Real well.” He watched the gleam in your eyes as you returned his smile, nodding.

“I’m bummed you’re leaving tonight,” he muttered, fingertips gliding under the loose shirt that hung around you, thumb rubbing circles on the skin of you hip.

“You’re leaving too,” your eyebrows shot up, voice soft but tone loud.

“Yeah,” Harry’s voice drawled the word out, bottom lip between his teeth as he bit back a smile. “But we’re headin’ different ways. Not goin’ to see you for a bit.”

“Won’t be that long.” You grinned up at him, although sharing the sentiment. “I should shower,” you mumbled, shooting Harry a grin before turning over in the bed to then roll off, standing to your feet. Harry watched as the sun filtering through the window hit you, he couldn’t help but admire the way it made you glow.

You shuffled on your feet, legs the tiniest bit unstable, as you reached for your scattered clothes on the floor. “Should get some pastries for breakfast, yeah?” Harry’s voice pulled your attention back to him.

“Definitely,” you beamed at him, pausing before opening his door as you listened for anyone else being out.

“Y’look good in my shirt, love.” Harry spoke once more from behind you. Smile widening, you sent him what you hope was a subtle wink, before slipping out of his room and heading to the washroom.

Harry sank back down into the mattress as the door closed behind you, hands running over his face. Fucking hell, he thought to himself. The smell of your perfume still overwhelmed his senses, surrounding him and the sheets around him.

“Christ,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your appearance in the mirror. Red and purple marks along your breasts from where Harry had bit and sucked, you were glad they were just low enough to be concealed by clothing.

Stepping into the shower, your mind played the events from the night before over and over again. Remembering the ways his hands hand trailed all over your body, gripping and pulling at you. Biting your lip as you recalled everything, he had muttered to you, how much he told you he wanted you, and how much you had returned the sentiment.

After all these years of knowing each other, all the subtle glances at each other, all the lingering grabs and wandering hands, this had felt right.

You quite frankly don’t know why it had taken so long. You kicked yourself a bit for not making a move sooner, but you knew that you couldn’t find it in yourself to be the one to initiate anything. You also knew that Harry probably took so long to make a move because you gave unclear signs, but that was neither here nor there.

Deciding to push any worries out of your mind for now, thinking that it would be best to deal with it when the time comes. Instead, you got ready for the day after your shower.

Pulling on a floral sundress, you kept Harry’s shirt in your room, knowing that you could get away with taking it from him before you guys parted ways.

Harry was true to his word, and had headed out to grab some delicacies for breakfast. Everyone out and ready to eat, you joined them at the table that sat in the sun on the balcony.

As you sat around the small table, you and Harry sharing looks, knees bumping. Harry reveled at how normal everything felt. There was no awkwardness, nothing felt weird or uncomfortable. You weren’t avoiding him, or acting strange around him.

Although it being a good thing that neither of you were uncomfortable, Harry realized that there had been basically no mention of the night spent together. Although the very rational thought that it had been mere hours since the two of you had slept together, only being awake for a couple of those hours.

Everything about that was extremely rational, but Harry still wanted to say something, anything to just bring it to air. He didn’t want you guys to bury the night into nothing, into something that you would once and a while remember but never say thing about.

“You got a hickey on your tit.”

That’ll do it.

Figuring the opportunity would present itself as you headed to the kitchen to grab some more peaches, Harry had followed. He wordlessly watched as you bent over to grab the little produce bag across the counter, his eyes dropping down to low cut of your dress where he noticed the little marks he left on your skin the night before.

Shooting up at his quiet words, you felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you looked down, both hopping to hide the blush and to fix the neckline of your dress, so that the top of your breasts were covered.

“Looks good on you,” he mumbled quickly after, after you didn’t say anything.

“Stop that.” You muttered, knowing your cheeks were glowing red as you thought back to a mere twelve hours ago when Harry had his mouth sucking on the skin on your breast. Harry couldn’t help the smirk that dawned on his lips, watching you flush as he reminded you of the feeling on his lips on your skin.

“Seemed to like it.”

Harry watched as you grabbed a bowl for the fruit, holding it against you before stepping past him. “Why do you think I wore such a low cut dress today?”

                                                              ***

Two bottles of prosecco had been shared in the early afternoon, a last little celebration of sorts before the realization that everyone had to pack. It had been such a nice afternoon, almost a perfect ending to the time you guys had spent here in Italy.

Almost.

Harry was dying to get you alone.

Pacing around his room for a second as he was itching to storm down your door. Why hadn’t he kissed you.

During a morning of quiet glances, teasing smiles and light touches, Harry had been so focused on trying to talk to you, or show that everything would be okay, that he never found the opportunity to kiss you. He was supposed to be packing up his things, or at least starting to pack up, but he couldn’t stop thinking

The next time Harry would see you would be in a rushed goodbye, before you head over to the train station. After that, who knows when the next time you will see each other. Realistically, it wouldn’t be that long. But the way it stood right now, both yours and Harry’s schedule were so erratic there was really no telling.

The sketchpad on the floor caught his eye. You hadn’t retrieved it from last night, and it still sat on the floor where you had tossed it. Quickly grabbing it, he walked down the hall to knock at your door.

As the door opened, Harry suddenly felt breathless.

“Hey,” he exhaled. “You forgot this.”

Walking into your room as you stepped aside, quietly shutting the door behind him. He didn’t know why it felt so intimate, standing together in a closed room, but as soon as the door clicked closed, he felt his cheeks warm.

He glanced around your room, seeing that you hadn’t gotten that far in your packing either.

“I uh,” Harry stumbled over his words as you remained fairly quiet, grabbing the sketchpad from his hands. “I hate packing.” He grinned, happy to see your shoulders shake with a laugh as you agreed, sliding onto your bed.

“Me too,” you scoffed, not even wanting to be faced with everything you had to shove back into your bag. “Plus, prosecco’s making me sleepy.”

Harry tentatively sat next to you, watching as you flipped through the pages of your sketches. “You should keep the drawings of you.” You mumbled, starting to tear the pages out. “If you want.”

“You gotta keep this last one,” Harry’s voice was a quiet, as he watched you flip to the last drawing you had done of him, probably no less than twenty-four hours ago when he sat naked in front of you.

You didn’t miss the smug smirk that grew on his lips, as he glanced between you and the drawing that sat in front of you.

“And what do you suppose I do with it?”

“I’ll leave that up to you love.”

His eyes lingered as neither of you spoke for a moment too long. You jumped up suddenly, moving back towards the door as you knew you could easily be swayed to have Harry stay in your room.

“I should pack,” your voice coming out quieter than intended. Harry slowly rose from the bed, watching your turn to reach for the doorknob to usher him out of your room.

“Oh …!”

His hand came to grip your elbow, catching you by surprise as he pulled you closer until your body faced his.

Your eyes catching the gleam in Harry’s eyes as he puled you closer to him. “What are you…?” You watched as he shushed you, hand sliding down your arm until it gently held your own. You slightly fell back to lean against the wall behind you, hand remaining intertwined with Harry’s but just slightly moving back from him.

“Still wearing m’ shirt.” Was all he mumbled to you, as you glanced down to the shirt covering your body. It was the shirt Harry had put out for you last night as you crawled back into bed with him, shirt you had pulled on today as you went to pack up your clothes.

“Oh,” was all you could say, meeting his gaze again, expression unreadable. “I – I’ll get it back to your before I go.”

Eyes holding his, you watched with some relief as a grin dawned on his lips. “Love,” he drawled out, hands reaching back out to you, grabbing hold of your arms, fingertips trailing down your skin until his hands clasped with yours.

“As much as I’d like you to take your shirt off for me right now,” his smirk deepened, dimple on his cheek, tugging you to him. “Keep it.”

“Harry,” his name was a whisper from your lips, trying to bite back your growing smile.

“Just wanted,” he mumbled, instinctively licking his lips. One of his hands let go of yours, sliding around to the small of your back.

Your breath hitched as he moved in closer to you, mouth suddenly on yours. You leaned in against him, hand reaching up to his jaw. He kissed you slowly, tongue smoothing against yours as he gripped into the fabric of his shirt that hung off your back. Your body was completely embracing his, responding and returning his every movement.

His kisses were slow and hot, drawing you in for more the longer you went on. They were different from yesterday, not as urgent but just as fervent. He left you completely breathless as he pulled away for a moment, face staying inches away form yours.

“Just wanted a taste,” he rasped, hand squeezing your hip. “Kicking myself for not kissing you all day.”

“Needed an excuse to come on over, just to kiss me?” You giggled, still slightly breathless.

“Well,” he grinned, hands resting just under your shirt as his thumbs rubbed small circles onto the skin of your hips. “Didn’t want to just barge into your room, not very gentlemanly.”

“I uh,” he paused, not giving you a chance to say anything. “I’m really gonna miss you.” Your expression softened at his words, cheeks warming up. “Going to miss you too Harry.”

“Meant what I said las’ night, too.” He hummed, as every dirty thing he muttered to you flashed through your mind. “Wanted you – wanting you,” he quickly corrected himself. “I – I think about you all the time, love.”

Cheeks warming even more, you thought over his words. “You don’t have to say anything,” he added. “I just,” he pulled his lips between his teeth for a moment. “Jus’ needed to say something.”

“Harry… don’t worry about it,” you whispered, voice soft as his words made you smile. “I, uh, I meant what I said last night too.” You spoke quietly, almost unsure of yourself.

A smirk returned to Harry’s lips. “What exactly? Said a lot last night, love.” Memories of you begging, and whining for him rang through his ears. He watched you take your bottom lip between your teeth, hesitating before speaking.

“About – everything.” You breathed out, not trusting yourself to say too much. A beat of silence passed between the two of you.

“I should really pack. I leave in nearly an hour.” You mumbled, knowing that if you didn’t say anything he might end up in the bed with you.

“Wait!” Harry said, voice louder as he stopped you from leaving. “Humour me love,” he paused, beaming at you. “What exactly from what you said last night?”

“Need a good ego stroke that’s it?” You grinned, shaking your head at him.

“C’mon love,” he grinned down at you as you shuffled closer to him, chest pressing against his as you glanced up at him. “Bore my soul to you, least you can do no?”

You perched your head up, lips nearing his ear. “Well,” you paused, lips brushing over the skin of his jaw. “Meant what I said about thinking about you,” pausing, you moved closer to his ear, voice dropping. “Filling me, making me cum.”

Harry visibly gulped; eyes intense on you. “You are,” he paused, leaning forward as his mouth chased yours. “Incredible.” The word was muffled as his mouth found yours. His grip on you tightened, one hand sliding on your skin, under your shirt, until it met the small of your back again.

Harry kissed you heavily once again, mouth hot, silently calling you closer to him. “Jus’ one more, yeah?” He mumbled; voice low as he only pulled away for a second.

Just as he said, pushed himself close against you and left one long, deep, kiss to your mouth.

He brought a hand up to your cheek, holding your face still, holding your gaze. “So incredible, y’know that?”

“Think you mentioned that.” You grinned, already missing his mouth on yours.

“Got to tell you again,” he mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss to your mouth. “Consider this a going away present.”

Harry gave your hand one more squeeze, before reaching for the doorknob. You couldn’t stop the smile still tugging at the corner of your lips, the feeling of Harry’s mouth still on yours.

You were glad to know that the both of you were seemingly on the same page, both attracted to the other. Part of you knew that nothing was really clear with you guys, that both of you had said that ‘nothing would change’, but that was something to worry about later.

For now, you reveled in the way his lips moved with yours, the way his hands tugged you closer to him.

Rushing through your packing, as you felt yourself stuck in a daze. Part from a sudden hit of exhaustion, part from the effect Harry had left. You told yourself that you would sleep on the train, the ride being longer than it needed as it passed through Switzerland and made multiple stops before you reached your destination.

Finalizing everything that needed to get packed up, you headed over to the kitchen to grab some food for the ride. You had bought some extra pastries and fruits for yourself yesterday, knowing you would want to eat during your ride.

You were surprised to see Harry already in the kitchen, shuffling around as he placed fruit into a little bag. “Hey,” he smiled up at you, beginning of a setting sun glowing orange from behind him.

“What are you doing?”

He grinned, passing you the bag he was holding. “Some food for your trip.”

Sucking your lips between your teeth, you try to hide your smile. He had already prepared you a little bag of treats, one that you were going to grab for yourself. “Thank you,”

After trying your best to quickly pack, you spend the little time you had left to draw a little something for Harry. You were a bit nervous, thinking that maybe you shouldn’t slip the folded drawing into Harry’s things. But now, you were certain you needed to.

“One sec,” you mumbled, stepping away from him and quietly making your way back to your room. Grabbing the folded paper where you had left it, you went to head over to Harry’s room to place it with his things, but found Harry waiting for you in the hallway.

“Open this later,” you whispered, sliding it in his palm.

“You better be ready to go!”

Voice pulling you away from Harry, as the rest of your group crowded around you, swarming you with hugs and goodbyes.

Harry had pulled you in extra tight with his goodbye, as you sank into his arms. He muttered a quiet “goodbye love” into your hair, not wanting to let you go. Still, he knew he had to pull away, fingertips trailing down you arms as he didn’t want to fully let you go.

He did have to let go though, and you did have to leave.

After you left, Harry made up some excuse about wanting to finish packing now, before shutting his room door behind him. Fidgeting with the paper still in his hands, quickly unfolding it.

Fuck.

His mouth gaped open as his eyes focused on the drawing you had done for him. Eyes skimming over every line and detail on the page, all coming together to shape your figure.

Your very naked figure.

It was your entire body, slightly bent as if you were sitting back against the head board of a bed. One leg folded up as the other one extended out, knees just slightly parted. It was all done just in pencil, just like the sketches you had done of Harry. Your face in the image wasn’t too detailed, but unmistakably you. The sketch was all a bit rough, lines skewing out everywhere, but Harry didn’t care.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the drawing, feeling his cock twitch in his pants. He almost felt bad, like he shouldn’t be getting hot and bothered from such a delicately sketched drawing. Although nude, there was something so elegant about it. This wasn’t something quick to get off on, it was something for him to really remember you by.

Still, as he took in every curve and bend in your body, remembering the way his hands felt on you, the way your body felt with his, he felt his mouth go dry. He picked up his phone, wanting to text you even though you had just left.

“Beautiful drawing as usual.”

You glanced down at your phone, rereading Harry’s text for the fifth time. You chewed at your lip, unable to keep the smile from your lips. Having just arrived at the station and already having purchased your ticket before hand, you made your way to wait for your train that had yet to arrive.

“Just something to help keep you occupied.”

Just as your phone buzzed in your hands, your cheeks warmed as you read is words.

“Trust me love, won’t be able to get you out of my mind.”

[1ddotdhq]

🖕Mon Sept 28 ‘20 👓

First things first: see ya Psycho! Music Week published an article confirming Syco’s “low-key” demise. Music Week tells us two interesting things - the first is that “artists from [Cowell’s] TV show will now be free to sign to any label, with Sony no longer enjoying first refusal”. The second interesting tidbit is that “all Syco Music employees and artists have now either been redeployed within Sony Music, or have left the company”. Happy days!

More like busy days - for Harry, at least! He was seen yesterday evening in LA, taking pictures with a fan. He was wearing a mask (sexy) and a mini hair clip (less sexy, but adorable nonetheless). We can take this as an indication that pre-production for Don’t Worry Darling is likely underway, and as he’s the lead male role (!!!!!!), he has RESPONSIBILITIES and so he had to be there before the day of the actual shoot. Your intern spent a few hours reading up on film set guidelines, so I’m going to tell you that at some point between the UK, Italy, the UK again, and LA, Harry got himself screened and tested negative for COVID, as is mandatory to do before entering a film set. These sets are closed, and any visitors must also undergo screenings, as far as I could tell. Anyways, hopefully that keeps him safe and busy for the next few months! 

His Grammy campaign is ALSO underway, as his team told Music Week that they’ve “got a few more things up [their sleeve] for the rest of the year, but [we’ll] have to wait and see”. Is it the Golden video? I bet it’s the Golden video. Some more information about Harry’s accessories also became available to the public today: his custom vampire wife blue HS bag was VERY custom-made, apparently, as he specifically requested that color blue for his initials (the letters are normally done in a ~golden~ thread, which makes it funner, imo). In case you’re curious - it IS the same color as his Light’s Up costume, the Vespa, the room that Falling was shot in, and on and on and on. He does seem to rather have a fascination with that color, doesn’t he? Almost like...he gets so lost inside it? Can you believe it??

Hahaha okay moving on: Zayn ALSO keeps on keepin’ on to make Z3 a more tangible reality: he registered two new songs today: “Different” and “Look At Me Now”. And even #better (last time, I promise haha) - “Better” was featured on Amazon Music’s “song of the day”! I have to hear the songs before I say anything about it, but I do sort of hope that things will be “Different” this time around - “Better” - and that he’s telling us “Look At Me Now”. To use twitter terminology, I’m manifesting good things for him.

Liam had a feature in Esquire Mexico, where they talked about his early aspirations as an Olympic runner changing into his decision to give up running to focus on music. I wish they had talked about this a bit more, because I can’t expect that was an easy decision, but also, he would have been around 14 when he made it. That’s a BIG responsibility for a kid, and I want to hear how he felt about it then, and how he feels about it now, some thirteen years on. About his music career, he says: “The effort is what really counts. Having tried it was fundamental, but also understanding that if it didn’t work, it just wasn’t for me”. He does, however, attribute his success to his obsessive attitude (hmmm). At any rate, you’re a JOY to have around, Liam, so I’m glad it DID work out!

The feature also came with PICTURES, of course, in which he looks better than anyone reasonably has a right to - I have to keep reminding myself that if I want to stay impartial, I can’t be attracted to any of them, but DAMN did Liam test my resolve in these! They had him in glasses and a knitted hoodie/jumper/sweater thing holding a guitar on the cover photo. There are other pictures in which he’s wearing half undone button up shirts and too cool for school shades and looking moodily off into the distance (while holding his guitar) and a few where he’s looking pensively down in a blue paisley shirt and glasses (whew!). I think it’s the glasses that killed me, tbh, but go check them out, because I’m certainly not doing them justice! 

In some sunny news, Free My Meal popped up again to thank Louis for raising awareness for their cause, calling him a legend (we been knew, but it’s nice to see!) and using hashtags like “#noshame” and “#justask”, and I have to say - sometimes, you would be surprised at how kind people can be if you ask. ALSO, I am bringing this charity up literally ANY TIME I have the opportunity to, because I think it is doing phenomenal work, and I wish there were more programs like this one.

I also have a little bit of a Clown Car update for you: yesterday, Nick Gordon posted a “#theysaidyes” picture, featuring both Briana and Freddie, and captioning with a quote from...wait for it...When Harry Met Sally!!! He then went on a comment reading spree, liking such comments as “Although you are not the real father, you will be the best father, believe me” and “*** **”. I...am actually speechless, which never happens to me. AND THEN! Briana followed and account called “thepropertybrokers” which is an “Investment Property Specialist” account in Beverly Hills. Are you...going somewhere, girl? Don’t be shy, *** **. 

And, hmmm, let me think - what day is it? Oh, yeah, the 28th, I almost forgot! You know who DIDN'T? Paul Higgins, former One Direction bodyguard and bona fide Tour Dad, who went around Instagram liking “Happy Anniversary, Harry and Louis!” posts, including my favorite, which was captioned: “Happy 7th anniversary love birds! 28th September 2013 - it’s so great to see how two beautiful friends finally did it!...”. Yeah, guys, nothing to see here, they’re just celebrating 7 years of a beautiful and committed BROMANCE, doncha know? 

[ao3bronte]

when chaos reigns [the sirens come to play]

A Merman AU. (Rated T with some suggestive language.) Now on AO3!

[Prologue]

Covid-19 and covert relationships don’t exactly go hand-in-hand these days, but you really shouldn’t be touching anyone’s hands right now anyway.

…that is, unless you don’t belong to the same species.

Can Merpeople catch Covid-19? That’s debatable, but news doesn’t exactly flow freely from the depths of the South China Sea. Though we know very little about Merpeople and their ways of life, we do know that they rarely interact with humans, preferring to tear down their ships and rip apart their dams and levies in revenge for poisoning the oceans and seas with their human fossil fuels. 

But this isn’t a story about environmental politics, or Covid-19 for that matter. This is a story about love and about putting aside differences. In this tale, Marinette discovers that the term ‘scalie’ (ou écailleux, car nous sommes en France) doesn’t always refer to the commonly known adjective to describe fish skin. And Adrien, bless his heart, really does need to put on clothes when he’s not rocking a fish tail despite the fact that he’d much rather be naked (much to Marinette’s mortification). Anyway you slice it, Merpeople and humans simply aren’t supposed to be together — they’ve always been sworn enemies through and through — but no matter what alternate universe we find ourselves in, these two idiots in love will always find each other.

This is, undoubtedly, their story.

[Part 1]

It’s the beginning of March and Tom and Sabine aren’t taking any chances with this whole virus situation. Marinette seems to catch everything — illnesses, hands, the whole nine yards — and they’d already been talking about sending her down to the Cote d’Azur to spend the summer with her grandmother Gina Dupain in order to get away from Paris for a little while. The constant schoolyard bullying from Chloé Bourgeois has dragged Marinette down so many pegs that Sabine is almost relieved to see Macron call off school for the foreseeable future and books both her daughter and her husband a trip to Marseille before the entire country shuts down for good.

Marinette isn’t happy, of course, but what teen would be? Her friends are in Paris! The fashion is in Paris! She doesn’t want to stay in some sleepy little Mediterranean village where nothing ever happens! Do they even have Wi-Fi there?

It’s a valid question. Tom doesn’t actually know, but he chatters enough for the two of them as the high speed train takes them down the rails to the south of France. Marinette’s sulk lightens a little as he pulls pastry after pastry out of his luggage in the hopes of making his daughter smile just a little before dropping her off with his mother — he knows that their relationship is a little strange after Gina’s last visit to Paris but there’s nothing a little quality time together can’t fix. 

Petite Befana is one of those places you find on a postcard. Situated just on the edge of France and Italy, the fishing village’s brightly coloured houses gleam in the sunlight, peppered with lemon trees and winding alleys that seem to almost spill out into the sea. The beaches are craggy and feature small grottos and coves of underground caves that glimmer with seaglass when the sun hits them just right, hiding a pocket sized oasis here and there for the adventurous who like to explore at low tide. Gina likes it here because of the Place du Marché, but Tom often wonders as to the real reason why she’s settled in the quaint harbour after years of Eat, Pray, Loving around the entire planet after divorcing his father.

She’s certainly made friends with every woman in town by the looks of it. Along with her veritable swarm of bar-hopping friends, Tom keeps seeing a woman with pointed features and deep black hair with a violent red streak in it pop up on her Facebook page. They always seem to be in the same jazz club, not that Tom is really paying attention; if his mother wants to spend her golden years drinking negronis and dancing with her girlfriends, that’s up to her.

They disembark the train in Marseilles and take a bus to Toulon, then another bus to Petite Befana. Marinette is passed out and drooling on his shoulder by the end of it so Tom does as he always does and hauls her up like a sack of flour through the thick and winding labyrinths of cobblestone streets towards his mother’s apartment. Gina greets them once he eventually finds the place and, after tucking Marinette into the daybed in the guest bedroom, happily guzzles down the proffered beer on the terrasse overlooking the sea.

“I’ll try to come down as often as I can,” Tom assures Gina, not knowing just how bad of a clusterfuck 2020 was about to become. “I’m sure Marinette will come to appreciate all that Petite Befana has to offer.”

“I’ll take her down to the market tomorrow morning,” Gina assures him, patting her son’s beefy forearms. “There’s an older woman who sells the most beautiful fabrics and I already dusted off my old sewing machine. That should keep her busy.”

“Marinette’s never happier when there’s a project to complete,” Tom responds with relief, downing the rest of his Kronenbourg. “I bet she’ll have an entire closet full of clothes by the time the month is out.”

“And it should only take a month or two for this to blow over.” Gina jabs her thumb towards the television as the news of Covid-19 murmurs in the background amid the waves of the Med on the shore. “And then we’ll be back to normal before you know it!”

(...and we all know how that turned out.)

[Part 2]

Covid-19 affects a lot of people in a lot of different ways. Some feel stir crazy. Others enjoy the alone time. But Marinette? Well, she’s been trapped in the harbours of Petit Befana for three weeks now and our aforementioned heroine is already bored out of her skull. She’s made three dresses, four satchels and twenty two scrunchies with the leftover fabric because what else is there to do down here? Luckily, Covid-19 hasn’t quite affected Petite Befana like it has the other regions of France and Marinette is able to go outside at least...not that she wants to. 

There are more artisanal bakeries and charcuterie shops in Petite Befana than there are nightclubs and high end boutiques, which is odd for a village so beautifully situated on the coast of southeast France. Gina proudly boasts that her new home is often bypassed by the glitz and glam of Monaco; lavish superyachts and the seemingly endless stream of paparazzi prefer the glamour and uberwealth just west of their little village, leaving its sleepy inhabitants mostly alone to sell their goods to the tourists that stop by for a night on their bicycles and scooters. Marked with the Italian influences of its neighbour, Petit Befana truly is the little-known last stop on the famous Cote d’Azur which makes it an inspiring landscape for Marinette to discover…

...for all of four days. 

She’s already so over Covid-19 and, like any teenager, she’s getting more and more annoyed by the day that she can’t hang out with her friends! Why did Maman and Papa send her down here?! All she wants to do is get back to Paris and design! It’s not like there’s anything fun to do here anyway, besides play video games all day in her bedroom; the only places that offer free WiFi are closed and she can only play Animal Crossing for so long before her grandmother insists on making her get some fresh air. 

Ugh! 

Grumbling under her breath, Marinette pulls on her raincoat and stomps down the laneway from the terrasse towards the sidestreet where her grandmother’s 1920’s bastide-style home resides. From the cobbled alley, Marinette watches the colourful array of fishing boats land their day’s catch right up on the harbourfront and heads down despite the storm clouds brewing on the horizon.

“Bonjour!” A group of older men wave as she makes her way down the ancient steps, the pathway shaded by thick palms and cacti. She pauses just long enough to ask who’s winning their game of socially distanced pétanque before continuing her way through the pines towards the gravel and sand beaches that line the shore. 

The seafront is mostly boarded up, much to both Gina’s and Marinette’s disdain. Her grandmother used to spend most of her evenings at the jazz bar La Sirena with her friends, not that Marinette got to meet any of them. The lockdown shuttered pretty much everything the day after she kissed Papa goodbye and settled into her new life for the next month, but with three weeks already stretching into four, Marinette dejectedly wonders if she’ll ever see Paris again.

Passing the last brasserie on the boardwalk, Marinette leaves civilization for the long stretches of barren coastline. There’s all sorts of little inlets and grottos here and there, especially as she gets closer and closer to the Italian border. Unfortunately, it’s only April, which means it’s rainy, generally unpleasant and completely and utterly empty on the beach.

“No one to talk to, nothing to do…” Marinette sighs and tries to kick a piece of driftwood, only to miss it with her foot in true Marinette style. The faux pas — quite literally — sends her screaming and flailing her arms like an octopus on a ceiling fan as she dramatically plummets face first onto the wet, slimy gravel.

She groans and pushes herself up on her hands and knees, wincing as sea-weathered stones dig into her palms and kneecaps. Marinette is, above all, a walking disaster in every sense of the word — sometimes she wonders if the powers that be seek out to deliberately punish her with embarrassing things like this on purpose for their own amusement. 

(ಸ_ಸ … *cough* Zag *cough*)

Marinette whimpers as she wipes chunks of seaweed and brownish foam off her cheeks and chin. At least no one was around to see her fall over — thank god — but she’ll still have to do the laundry when she gets home. She’s covered in muck and little bits of oily slime that are sure to stain if she doesn’t wash it out soon. Marinette grimaces as she tries to shake it off of her hands; humans really have done a number on the seas and oceans...like, why is her front so sticky? She glances at some of the garbage on the shore as she sits on her haunches and wonders if the news has it all wrong. Maybe the merpeople taking potshots at rich people on yachts with old cans and plastic sea trash really do have the moral upper hand…

Marinette, being Marinette, would have continued to stare dazed and confused into space well into the afternoon had it not been for the impossibly shiny something or other sparkling in the grotto straight ahead.

[NEXT PART...]