#I did however just make a bomb ass salad

[einsteinsugly]

Fictober 5. January 2007. Moving Mountains.

His heart has never felt so barren. So empty, so disheartened.

Slowly but surely, his childhood home has been dismantled. Its remnants have been hauled away, and solemnly packed into boxes.

His daughter, however, is disrupting the solace. "You're carrying that box."

Her boyfriend, in turn, rolls his eyes. "You always say you're strong."

Eric attempts to ignore the banter; the dumbassery, if you will. For the last time, the not so little dumbasses have been running around the 'ol Forman abode. Dismantling the past, for the sake of an uncertain future.

A tiny redhead defiantly smirks. "Like headless chickens, Daddy?"

"Yeah, like headless chickens."

Tears well in his eyes, and he blinks. He misses the good 'ol days, and if he goes back even further...

"Well, it's Ani's china, and I'm not fragile." Leah is strong and robust. Just like her mother, back in the day. But six inches shorter, and with a substantial amount of sass. "Maybe we should give it to Betsy. She'll break everything into a million little pieces..."

He feigns a fatherly tone, as the newfound head of the family. "Both of you, you're ruining the moment."

It's so strange, this feeling. It's nostalgic, somber, and oddly dutiful. It's hard to put into words. It's word salad, as his mother says.

"Have you been crying, Dad?" Leah sounds just like her mother. Hook, line, and sinker. "Oh my God, you totally have."

But her mother would give him a comforting hug; instead, their daughter is instead at a loss for words. So she sputters, like that 'ol garden hose out in the back.

"You know, if you try not to think about it, maybe the feeling will just go away."

James groans. "That's worked so many times before."

Leah sticks her tongue out at him. "Shut up..."

A particular brunette is now in the doorway, making her dramatic entrance. "She has a point."

Betsy lunges for the box, and James sighs. "When Betsy agrees with you, you know there's a problem."

"Step away from my grandmother's china." His mother, eagle eyed, rushes over. And grabs it, amongst the bickering children. "I'll carry it myself."

Dramatic and exasperated, Betsy huffs and puffs, like she'll blow the entire house down. "Fine. I was just trying to help."

Mom attempts a firm, but sweet tone. Like reprimanding a child. "Remember, don't pick up anything that says 'fragile' on it."

"It's the Kelso rule," James affirms, with a signature smirk, "That, and if Betsy wants to help out, there's probably an ulterior motive."

Betsy rolls her eyes. "You don't have to rat me out."

"Yeah, I do," James proclaims, "You want to endear yourself to your new mother in law, across the street."

"How did you know?"

James chuckles. Like father, like son. "Your master plans aren't subtle."

*****

They're eating at the dining table, for the very last time.

With turkey sandwiches in hand, the feeling's somber. And final, like his father's coffin lowering into the ground.

"Okay, cockroach, foot, nuclear bomb." Leah unleashes a foot, and James a cockroach. "Foot. I win. I don't have to carry the dining table. Just the chairs."

"Pop would threaten to put his foot up all your asses, but I won't do that." Eric is not his father, and he never will be. But he can try, a little. A firm hand is needed, sometimes, to rein in all the shenanigans. "Only if I catch you going to second base with my daughter, again. Jimmy Dean."

James groans. "It could've been worse."

Hyde chimes in, on behalf of his raven-haired son. "Good luck with that, Forman."

"Well...I'll give him a very stern talking to," Eric amends, with an awkward sigh, "It didn't used to be the Forman way, but now, I guess it is."

A long, uncomfortable silence emerges, and it's overwhelming. Everyone is staring at him, like he's the new patriarch that can't fill his father's shoes.

And they're right, but his wife's glare is softer. A bit more understanding, if you will.

He abruptly stands up, snapping like a wishbone. "This is...weird."

With that, he awkwardly departs. And breaks into a million little pieces.

*****

It feels so overwhelming, so surreal.

His jaded eyes fill with tears, about to bury his head in his hands, as a familiar redhead enters his view. His wife, of nearly twenty-four years. The girl next door, the woman he loves and honors.

And she dutifully does the same, refusing to obey the whims of her whimsical husband. Unlike many of her foremothers in decades and centuries past, exempting a couple of rogues.

But that was in the distant past, before they were even blips on the radar. A simple little thought, in a teenaged girl's mind. A distant someday, which is now a firm yesterday.

In the here and now, the relatively recent past surrounds them, swallowing them whole. Wrapping them in creature comforts, like a cocoon. Creature comforts that are fading away, into the photo albums of yesteryear.

Until, in the blink of an eye, they're gone. Like dust in the wind, like his…

"It's so weird." The inevitable, resounding words spill from her mouth, like spilled milk. "I can't believe the house is…"

Click, click, click. A bright red Viewmaster filled with impeccable scenes, crystal clear memories, enter his meandering mind. The Vista Cruiser, awkward family dinners, basketball games. Camping in the backyard, stargazing. Looking for the Big Dipper, even on the cloudiest of nights.

Looking above, an overcast sky uncomfortably greets him. Filled to the brim with uncertainty, the tears fail to truly fall. Nor does a ray of hesitant, hopeful sunshine enter his blurring vision, as he hastily wipes away a stray tear.

"Um…yeah." That's all he can muster, glancing at her uneasy expression. Like her innards are twisting, like the chains of a tire swing. Round and round she goes, where she stops, nobody knows. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Donna winces a bit, as he anxiously grabs her hand. "That turkey sandwich is…"

"Scrambling your insides?"

She nods, with an awkward gulp. "Like eggs."

He attempts to distract, like the purposeful antics of Leah and James. "I happen to make the best eggs east of the Mississippi. Or the best can of Campbell's soup, if you so choose."

Nostalgia playfully distracts, as she pulls him close. Just like the good 'ol days. "Peasoup?"

"I don't know if Campbell's makes peasoup..."

"I know it's hard, Eric," She interrupts, wiping away his emerging tears, "But we've already talked about this. Let's think about the future, okay? Not the past."

"Yeah, it hurts too much."

She kisses him briefly, before breaking away. "It's a new day, let's go."

And, burdened with uncertainty, he reluctantly follows her lead.

[melancholymetropolis]

Cloud Nine

Pairings: Roommate! Hitoshi Shinso x Reader

Summary: The reader gets stood up and Shinso decides to make it up to her.

Warnings: Explicit Content. Porn with Plot. Slightly edited. Based off of this cover. All characters are aged up.

Author's Note: Hello to all! I have missed you guys. It's been a while. Finals have been kicking my ass but, I am back! This fic is a good blend of fluff and smut. Maybe a little bit of angst. If you would like to commission me, click here! I set a new goal, so please check it! Thanks for your support, it means a lot to me.

Word Count: 4500

The sound of the front door slamming shut resonated through the apartment, quickly followed by the echo of heavy footsteps trailing down the hall. They came to an abrupt pause; interrupted by the splashing of water in the sink and the ripping of a paper towel. He must’ve found the freshly baked cookies I left on the counter. The footsteps sound again but they stop short of my room. A firm knock rattled from my door; I looked up from my laptop and shouted “come in!” My roommate opened the door, appearing in front of me, dressed in his usual attire. Workout jacket and running shorts with a gym bag tossed over his shoulder. Shinso had already taken a bite out of the freshly baked cookie nestled in the paper, and tiny crumbs had been sprinkled around his mouth.

“You’re home earlier than I expected,” he said as he dropped his gym bag by my door and took a seat in my desk chair. “I thought you had a date with that producer guy.”

“Yeah, I did,” I closed my laptop and pushed it to the side. “But, he never showed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Shinso said before taking another bite of his cookie. He chewed it slowly before adding, “I had a feeling something was wrong since you baked.”

“I don’t only bake when I’m sad, So-so,” I replied as I rubbed the back of my neck.

“You’re right,” he took another bite of the cookie and swallowed. “You only make your comfort cookies when you’re sad.”

I gave him a quizzical look and he took it as an initiative to continue.

“When you’re sad or have a bad day, you always make double chocolate cookies with walnuts. And if you’re peeved, you add Nutella in the middle. Like today. So, if you don’t mind telling me what’s wrong, I’d be happy to listen.” Shinso finished off his cookie and brushed his mouth with the paper towel. His purple eyes gleaming up at me with concern.

“It’s just. . .” I crossed my legs underneath me and sighed. All the built-up frustration exploded out of me in three words, “Men are trash.”

Shinso’s face remained completely neutral; he didn’t even flinch at the statement. “How so?”

I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. “Okay, so last week, remember when I was wearing that super-cute outfit?”

“You gotta be more specific, you always wear cute outfits,” he said with a confused look in his eye.

“It was a Tuesday. I was wearing some bell-bottom jeans and a pink halter top that said ‘cherry bomb’. Do you remember that?”

“You had two buns on your head that day,” he added in recollection.

“I did! Well, I bumped into Justin on my way to the studio and we talked for a few minutes. Towards the end of the conversation, he gave me his number and asked me to dinner. I was ecstatic and practically skipped down the fucking street!”

“Sounds like something you’d do.”

“So, we’ve been texting all of last week and this week. I am under the illusion that we’re on for dinner. All of a sudden, he doesn’t reply to my texts this morning. I brushed it off and continued about my day. I went to the agreed restaurant and waited an hour in my car for him. Texting him the entire time, just for him to give me a reply on my ride home.”

“What did it say?”

“‘Sorry, something came up.’”

“Wow. . . what an asshole.”

“I know! Such a fucking jerk.”

We stayed silent for a minute or two before Shinso rose from my desk chair and walked to my door. He grabbed his gym bag from the floor and turned back to me. “I ordered from that restaurant you like, down the street, once I saw the cookies on the counter. I figured you could use some comfort food. It’ll be here in a little while, so I’m going to take a quick shower, then we could eat together. If you’re cool with that?”

“Sure, that’s fine. I’ll see you when you get out,” I replied with a look of astonishment on my face.

“Okay, see you in a bit.”

The pro-hero exited the room and gently closed the door behind him. My eyes remained in that general area, seconds after he left. Processing all the information that he gave to me. Wakatoshi Shinso. . . a man that I cannot describe in words. But, if I had to condense it, to say what he was, all I could say is that he cares. So much about me. Before moving in together, he was simply a friend-of-a-friend. We were cordial, always said “hi” in passing, and never left a bad impression. So, when I found an apartment, and he needed a room, it was a no-brainer. Shinso was the ideal roommate. Quiet, calm, and collected. He always made me breakfast, even though he was always up significantly earlier than I was. If I was too tired, he’d tidy up my leftover dishes and straighten up my things. When I had my period and ran out of pads, he went to the drug store and bought me some. Including chocolate ice cream and painkillers. He doesn’t mind doing the grocery shopping alone and doesn’t complain when I leave my bra on the bathroom door. He wiped my tears when my boyfriend left me and brought me flowers the next day.

Shinso was perfect in every way.

I was lucky to have him in my life.

The doorbell rang and I rose from my bed and raced to the door. Just as he said, Shinso had ordered from my favorite restaurant, as seen by the menu poking out of the biggest bag. I gave the delivery boy a small smile and thanked him, before shutting the door and walking into the kitchen. I placed the takeout bag on the counter and began to take out all the items from the bag. He brought chicken parmesan, mushroom ravioli, fettuccine alfredo, vodka alla penne, and two garden salads. In the second, smaller bag, were two pints of ice cream and complimentary miniature cannolis.

“I didn’t know what you were in the mood for so I got a little bit of everything,” his voice echoed throughout the room, causing me to jump.

“Jesus—” I looked up from the array of food to my roommate. Who was dripping wet and practically steaming from his shower. Grey sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips, extenuating his sharp v-line. He was shirtless, which wasn’t something new, he often walked around the apartment that way; however, the droplets sprinkled about his bare chest were doing things to me. His damp hair was slicked back, combed out of his face. Shinso walked around the kitchen’s island and popped open the lid off one of the containers. The display of his bruised knuckles resting on the counter caused my insides to churn.

Maybe it was the way Justin ghosted me earlier, or maybe it was the way Shinso cared for me— the longer I looked at him, the more I wanted him to bend me over the sink and make me scream.

An intense blush flushed over my face and I instinctively bit my bottom lip.

Without missing a beat, my roommate placed his hand on mine and locked eyes with me. “Is there something wrong?”

“I. . . ugh. . .” I looked away from him and down at the ground. “I’m fine.”

I could feel his violet-purple eyes squint with uncertainty. Shinso gently squeezed my hand and released a sigh. “I was thinking about what you said about ‘men being trash’ and how Justin was an asshole to you.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you're looking in the wrong place."

I looked up at his face, taking in his flushed-out expression. Although his wet hair gave him a more refined aura. His cheeks highlighted his boyish charm. Shinso's hand lifted from mine and found itself underneath my chin. My eyes automatically snapped toward his and my breath got caught in my throat. He had an unwavering stare upon his face that made me weak in the knees. Shinso’s eyes slowly closed and brought his face closer to mine. I gripped his shirt and pressed a kiss firmly against his lips. Every muscle in my body relaxed and I felt his arm securely wrapped around me. I moaned against his lips and loosened my grip on his shirt. I dug my fingers in his hair and pressed my body against his.

“I want you,” he groaned against my lips.

“Then, take me,” I replied as I untied his sweatpants. And kissed him again.

Shinso tore away and guided me to the couch. He gazed down at me, a questionable look in his eye. “Are you sure?”

I lifted the oversized tee-shirt over my head and tossed it to the side, My chest was completely bare, my ample breasts in the view of the towering athlete. “I’m all yours.”

Shinso’s eyes darkened. His demeanor was intense and serious. He wrapped his arms around me and lifted my legs to his waist. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” he grunted before capturing my lips in a kiss.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. My bare chest against his; my heartbeat in my ears and his body heat warming my soul. I wanted to be as close to him as I possibly could. I needed to be closer to him than I ever was before. “Take me to your room.”

Without hesitation, the pro-hero took long paces to his vacant space. He gently sat me on the edge of the bed and look down at me. “Open your legs.”

I scooted my by rear further on the bed and placed both feet on the neatly tucked duvet. My knees were facing the ceiling and my clothed womanhood was facing him.

Shinso swiftly dropped to his knees and brought his face to my inner thigh. Featherlike kisses sprinkled along the soft tissue and goosebumps ran up my back. When he got to my core, after taking his sweet time, he pushed the soft short and panties to the side before lapping the dripping center. My legs gently twitched and my eyes rolled back. His soft muscle continued to lap its sweet nectar and I swore I could see God Himself. After a short while, he had gotten bored of pushing my garments to the side, so Shinso tenderly removed them from my legs. I halfway expected him to rip them to shreds but I guess he was too gentlemanly for such savage behavior.

The athlete looked up at me with a wistful expression and asked a simple question. “Do you mind if I use my fingers?”

I paused for a minute and smiled. “Come here.”

Temporarily rising from his position on the floor, the massive man laid his body between my legs and hovered his face above mine. “Yes?”

“You use whatever you see fit,” I replied while looking into his eyes. “I trust you.”

Without so much as a second glance, Shinso walks to his nightstand and unlocks the bottom drawer. He pulls out a Hitachi wand, an eye mask, and bondage cuffs. “Are you comfortable with these?”

A blush dusted my cheeks as I looked at the items. “Oh my, I never knew this side of you existed.” I reached for the eye mask and placed it on my head. Then, I lifted my arms over my head and gripped the bedpost. I winked and finally said, “I’m ready when you are.”

Shinso turned to the top drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom. “I should’ve confessed sooner.”

I nodded with appropriate enthusiasm and widened my legs. “Please continue what you had been doing earlier. I want you.”

The athlete reached down to my face and pulled the eye mask over my eyes. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

His feather-like touches littered against the right side of my body and I swore I could feel my senses come alive. I felt the bed sink in between my legs and his warm hands reposition my hips on the bed. “Hold your legs up for me, baby.”

I did as instructed and took a deep breath.

I could feel his hot breath fan my naked cunt and all I could do was drip in anticipation. His coarse thumbs spread the thick lips apart; cool air fanned my bud. After a few seconds of no movement, his hot mouth pressed against the dripping mess. A long, deep moan arose from me, as my legs jolted again. He blew against my womanhood, creating a slurry of my nectar and his saliva. I could feel it drip down my cunt and to my rear slowly. Seductively almost. His soft tongue pushed its way into my smooth center and I felt my walls clench. He bobbed his head forward and back; probing me with his tongue as he went. I furrowed my brows and arched my back. Gripping the back of my knees, I bucked my hips against his mouth as slutty moans left my lips.

“Mmm. . . you feel so good, So-so,” I chanted as I whipped my head to the side.

He groaned against my womanhood, before pulling away briefly. He reached up the bed and gripped his desired item. Once I heard a distinctive buzzing, I knew it was the wand. He pressed the toy against my bud, possibly wanting to see my reaction to it. I moaned at the light vibrations and squirmed underneath it. A hum passed his lips as I felt his fingers gently toy with my entrance. One finger slowly went in, curling upward to the desired pleasure button. Shinso used that finger for about a minute before adding a second one. He presses his fingertips against the roof of my cunny and started to jab them upward. I bit my lip and dug my nails into my thighs at the added friction. I could feel a soft pool gather in my stomach and I knew my climax was near.

“Oh fuck! Oh, fuck!” I practically yelled as I gripped the sheets.

Shinso kept his same pace. I could imagine observing the incoming orgasm rise from my toes down my calves and thighs and to my abdomen.

I furrowed my eyes again and brought my legs closer to my chest. “Oh fuck. Oh, fuck! Oh shit!” My legs shoot violently as my toes clenched tightly. My breathing increased and tingles encased my whole body. Then, all of a sudden, all the feelings in my body stopped. And all I could hear was the buzzing of the vibrator in my room. For those two seconds, every fiber of my being clenched, including my walls around Shinso’s fingers. I could feel tears form in my eyes as a throaty moan fell from my lips and my back arched against the bed. I released the grip on my legs and allowed them to shake chaotically against the mattress. I reached under my head for the pillow and squeezed it around my head as I rode out the pleasable wave.

When my legs stopped shaking and my breathing calmed down, I released the pillow and lifted my head. “So-so?”

“I’m here,” he swiftly replied before removing the eye mask from my face. Shinso looked at me with a loving expression and placed a hand on my cheek. “Are you okay? That seemed pretty intense.”

“It was,” I replied looking at him with doe eyes. “Can you just. . . hold me for a while? I don’t think I’m ready to continue.”

“Of course.” He climbed into the bed and wrapped his arms around me. His violet eyes gazed down at me with such repertoire that it was almost impossible to keep contact.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked feeling so insecure.

“No, I just. . .” Shinso cut himself off. Somehow trying to find the right thing to say at that moment. He pulled my body closer to his before pressing his lips to my forehead and saying “ I love you.”

I froze. My breath caught in my throat. My heartbeat pausing its usual rhythm. My mind was completely cleared of any passing thought. “How. . . long have you known?”

“Not too long. About a few minutes.”

“Wait,” I pulled away from him and sat up in the bed. “What do you mean ‘a few minutes’?”

Shinso took a deep breath and followed my motions. “I realized I loved you when you told me you trusted me and proceeded to relinquish control. I had never seen you so vulnerable with anyone and we have known each other for five years. It meant a lot to me and everything else just. . . clicked in my brain.”

“So, all the ordering food and tampons. . . you didn’t do that to get me to put my guard down? You did it just because?”

“Well, yeah. I thought that’s what good roommates do. At least, that’s what Tendou says they do.”

“Wow. . . I. . . need a minute to digest. . . all of this.”

“Take your time.”

I spent the next few days hovering about our shared apartment. Replaying those three tiny, tiny words in my mind. I love you. He loved me. Shinso loved me. He didn’t do all those nice things because he wanted to use me or my body for his pleasure. He did it because he wanted to be a good roommate. Shinso wasn’t the type of man to say things he didn’t mean— hell, he doesn’t even speak the majority of the time. He meant what he said. And I couldn’t gather my thoughts to see how I felt about him. I knew what he meant to me. I knew I didn’t see myself living with anyone else and the thought of him being with another woman infuriated me. After a short while, I picked up a pen and grabbed my keyboard to write a song.

Justin found time to text me again; notifying me that he wanted to make up for our failed date by giving a free studio session. Being the starving artist that I was, I took up the offer. On a whim, I texted Shinso to meet at the studio, half expecting him to decline my answer. He didn’t. Shinso walked into the small room, still in his volleyball uniform. His violet eyes brightened when I smiled at him. He gave me a small smirk and a short wave.

Justin, completely taken back by the massive player, gawked at Shinso’s sheer size. “Damn, how tall are you?”

“Six foot four inches,” Shinso stated in a bland expression.

“Wow,” Justin turned away from the athlete and back to me. “I’m ready when you are.”

I took a deep breath, readjusted my keyboard, and looked ahead. “I’m ready.”

I started playing the keys and looking down at the lyrics on my notebook page.

I don’t want to seem the way I do

But I’m confident when I’m with you

I looked up at Shinso with a weak smile.

Lately, all I feel is bad and bruised

Tired of tripping on my shoes

I squeezed my eyes shut and finished the rest of the course.

But when he loves me I

Feel like I’m floating, when

He calls me pretty, I

Feel like somebody.

Even when we fade,

Eventually to nothing,

You will always be my favorite form of loving.

I opened my eyes and looked up at Shinso. His cheeks were a slight pink and his eyes were slightly closed. He seemed somewhat embarrassed by the lyrics, yet really into them.

I finished the lyrics, making sure I kept eye contact with him for the entirety of the song. I watched his shoulders relax, and jaw clench at the sound of the lyrics. He leaned forward as if to hear me better. Shinso’s boyish charm was completely exposed and I was loving every second of it.

When the song ended, Justin stood up and clapped from the other end of the glass. He clicked a button and shouted for me to come out.

“You were so good!” He practically shouted to the top of his lungs. “I should’ve gotten you here sooner.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you,” I said with a chuckle.

“Please tell me you’re free this Friday, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Justin gave me a hopeful look.

“Actually— “

“She has plans with me this Friday,” Shinso chimed harshly.

Justin looked between the two of us and simply nodded. “I totally get it. Shoot me a text when you are free though. We should talk business.”

“Of course!” I replied with a smile.

Shinso and I trotted out of the studio shortly after the exchange. He remained silent within the elevator of the building. Inside the cab home. And, as we walked through the front door. It was after he retreated into his room and took a shower when he finally spoke to me.

“Did you write that song for me?” Shinso asked after taking a seat in my desk chair.

“I did,” I answered simply.

“Does that mean you. . . share my feelings?” He proceeded to question me.

“Yes, I love you, Shinso,” I offered the response slowly.

He rose from my chair and sat across from me on my bed. “Tell me again.”

“I love you, Shinso.”

His lips captured mine in a heated kiss. His calloused hands pulled me closer to him as mine latched in his hair. I leaned back against the bed and spread my legs to give him more access. I moaned against his lips and moved my hips against his groin.

“Do you want to continue?” Shinso asked as pulled away. “We can always—”

“Hurry up and grab the condoms from the top drawer,” I interjected as I unhooked my arms to peel my shirt off.

Without a word, the athlete scooted from the bed and did as he was told. Shinso swiftly removed his sweats and tossed them to the side. He ripped the plastic packet open with his teeth and rolled the rubber on his member. He climbed back onto the bed proceeded to yank my bottoms off my body and spread my legs. Shinso positioned his member against my center and looked up at me. Once I gave him an eager nod, he sunk himself into me. A soul-shaking moan erupted from the two of us, followed by a curse underneath our breaths. He leaned down to give me a soft kiss before slowly rocking his hips against mine.

Gentle moans fell from my lips as I arched my back against his thrusts. “You feel so good, baby.” I brought my hands up my legs and navel; I latched my digits onto my ample breasts and gave them a slight squeeze.

Shinso readjusted my hips and lifted my legs in the air. His fingertips pressed firmly in the soft flesh of my thigh as he had begun to drop his hips down onto mine in such a harsh manner. My walls clenched around him, as I felt myself begin to ooze even more onto him. The new stimulation was making my whole body heat up and I desperately wanted more of it. I gripped the sheets tightly and gazed at his flushed-out face.

God, he looked so powerful fucking me like that. His muscles flexed with each thrust and sweat began dotting his abdomen. The pink hue on his cheeks and the clenching of his jaw made my insides tingle.

I was more attracted to this man than I could ever possibly know.

Suddenly, his pace started to slow down and his hips started to spasm. Just a tad. He was so close to his peak.

“You take me so well, sweetheart,” Shinso grunted lowly. “You’re tight cunt is milking me dry.”

I smirked. “Are you about to cum?”

His violet eyes narrowed and he paused his thrusts. “On your belly, now.”

“Yes, sir,” I teased as I rolled onto my stomach. Chest pressed against the bed and hips in the air.

The athlete gripped my hips as he eased his member back into me. “Rub that needy clit of yours, nice and slow.”

I tucked a hand between my legs and flicked my fingers softly. A small moan fell from my lips as my hips began to twitch slightly.

“Looks like you’re not gonna last too long, baby,” I could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Of course not, you know how to make me cum,” I said with a giggle.

“I am the only one that will be doing that from this point on, understood?” His gripped tightened around my waist and I could feel his hips begin to twitch slightly.

“Understood,” I grunted as I felt the warm pool fill in my stomach. “I’m getting close, baby.”

“Move your hand faster,” Shinso instructed while keeping his pace.

I flicked my wrist faster and immediately felt the climax rising my legs and thighs and gathering at my stomach. I clenched and released my walls several times before releasing a gurgle-like moan. “Ahh fuck. Ahh, fuck!”

“You better not stop moving your hand, princess,” he warned in a low tone.

“I’m not! I promise!” I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my lip. “Please let me cum! I wanna cum so bad! Oh, God!”

“Go ahead, you deserve it,” he grunted as he began to move his hips faster.

“Oh fuck!” I gripped the sheets tightly and moved my hand even faster. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

I clenched my walls ever so tightly and squeezed my eyes shut. In the pit of my stomach, I felt a soft soap bubble pop and ooze out to the rest of my body. My entire body clenched, and my hand pressed hard against my clit as I rode out the orgasm. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and my tongue fell out of my mouth. Drool dripped down my chin as the stars behind my eyelids faded. After a few seconds, I slumped forward onto the bed and opened my eyes.

“Oh fuck. . .” I gurgled as my body finished twitching.

Shinso slid out of my smooth canal and kissed down my sweaty back before laying next to me. He gathered me into his arms and looked down at my overly stimulated body. “Promise me you’ll be mine and only mine.”

With half-closed lids, I looked up at him and said, “You buy me food when I’m sad, you get me tampons when I’m bleeding, AND you made me cum so hard I almost blacked out. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you be with someone else.”

He chuckled. “I love you.”

“You better, because you can’t get rid of me. I’m in too deep,” I replied as I snuggled closer to him. After a short moment of silence, I said “I love you, too.”

[thatredheadwriter]

New Beginnings, Chapter 1

This is a Blackguard fic, because well, Pete Davidson is sexy as hell, especially in the five minutes he gets in Suicide Squad. This takes place in an AU where Blackguard still alerted the Corto Maltesian military that they were coming, but didn't die. He was electrocuted at some point, disabling the bomb/GPS tracker in his brain. He sneaks off the island in the wheel-well of a departing plane, but is injured after parachuting out over an isolated forest area in the Appalachian mountains. He finds a cabin and is staying there, fighting off an infection when the cabin's owner catches him off guard. Will be written in the perspectives of the female OC and Richard Hertz.

This is a multi-part fic that WILL contain smut. All parts will contain swearing.

This chapter of the fic is not NSFW, however, my blog is only for those 18+ as a general rule. Do not re-publish or cross post without my explicit written permission (reposts with credit are ok).

(Author's Note: I'd like to preemptively apologize for the chaotic, frequent switching of POV and times/settings. It felt kinda necessary to establish some things in this first chapter. I hope to not do it as much in future chapters.)

Warnings include:

blood

firearms

knives

swearing

"Ah, fuck." He looked down to see a tree branch sticking out of his thigh. Dick thought he was pretty fucking smart riding out of that hell-hole in the wheel well of that jet, and remembering to pack a parachute was also a good move, but this wasn't exactly the landing hoped for.

He’d planned it for nearly a month, and picked a flight that would be going over the Appalachians, knowing he could walk out of the woods and pretend to be some hiker who got lost for a couple of years. But getting stuck in a tree with a two-inch wide tree branch stabbed through his thigh was going to be a problem.

Dick reached behind himself and attempted to break the branch, but couldn't reach where he needed to without the branch twisting inside his leg, which hurt like a motherfucker. He grabbed one of his serrated knives and started sawing behind himself, just hoping he didn't accidentally stab himself in the ass in the process.

Turns out the branch was the only thing helping keep him balanced in the tree, so when he finally cut through it, he fell 10 feet onto the forrest floor. Dick laid there for a second, wondering if he should just succumb to the sweet release of death and save himself a lot of work.

Fuck it. I am motherfucking Dick Hertz. I ain't dying like this.

He got up, pleased to see the that the tree branch in his leg had been pushed further through when he landed on his ass. He stood up carefully and swore some more to make himself feel better, and he started walking.

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My feet are fucking killing me.

She wore heels to the job interview, hoping it would help, but based on the looks on the interviewer's faces, she wouldn't be receiving a call back. She turned the AC on high and laid her head back against the headrest.

>>>>>>>>>>

"I don't understand how someone who can read people so well can't connect with them for shit," Lexi said, finally verbalizing what she'd been thinking since she started going on job interviews.

Elle stabbed at her salad, not really in the mood to have this conversation right now. Confronting her biggest failure was more of a conversation to have when drunk, or after watching Titanic, but in the middle of a crowded hipster salad restaurant was not it.

"Not now, Lex."

"Ok, ok. We'll talk about something else. Did your great uncle leave you anything good in his will?"

"Lex! What the fuck? You really think that's a better topic."

"Well, it's a different topic...I don't get it. When my great uncle died, we didn't even go to the funeral."

"I was close with him, Lex. He was like a grandpa to me. If you can't be supportive then fuck off."

"No, I'm not trying to be unsupportive. I'm sorry."

Elle rolled her eyes, just then her phone buzzed.

mom

-We need to talk. Just came from the will reading.

"Lex, I gotta go."

"No, I'm sorry, please."

"It's not you, it's my mom," she held up the phone, and stood up from the table.

>>>>>>>>>>

Elle heard hushed whispering in the living room when she opened the door, but it stopped as soon as she entered. Her mom, dad, and great aunt were all staring at her.

"Do I have something in my teeth?"

"No, but I think you need to sit down."

She sat down, giving them her best 'what the fuck look'.

"So, Uncle Henry left you his cabin," her mom said slowly.

"Seriously? That's the best news ever!"

"But," her mom continued, "we're going to need you to sell it."

She visibly deflated, and her dad went on to explain, "Honey, I know it's hard, but that cabin is old. No one's been there in years, and there's a developer who's offered your aunt a lot of money for the land that it's on."

"No."

"No?"

"No, I won't sell it. He obviously left it to me because he knew I was the only one who wouldn't sell it to the first deep pocket who came around."

"You don't understand..."

"No, you don't understand. This is important to me." She stormed upstairs to the bathroom and slammed the door.

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About five miles out, Dick finally came to a small, abandoned looking cabin in the middle of nowhere. He went to break in, but someone had beat him to it. He pulled one of his guns and disabled the safety. He pushed open the door and looked around. There was broken glass on the floor and empty beer cans littered the ground. He cleared the rest of the house, and they were trashed too.

He put the gun away. Some amateur punks had broken in and used the place to party. He found the bathroom and started going through the medicine cabinet. Inside, he found toiletries, a first aid kit, some old prescription drugs, and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

Grabbing the first aid kit and peroxide, Dick came back to the main living area and sat down on an old, dirty couch. It was time to remove the stick that was penetrating (hehe, penetrating) his thigh. He grabbed the part sticking out of the top of his thigh near the base, and pulled hard. If the stick at punctured his femoral vein, he'd be dead and would have done all that work for nothing, but he was lucky (as lucky as a guy can be who had to jump out of a plane and then was stabbed by a blunt tree branch).

When he came to, blood was beginning to pool on the floor under him, and his pants and the couch were soaked in it. By best estimate, he figured he had passed out from the pain about an hour before. Dick could see the sun was beginning to set through the dirty window.

He stood up and took his pants off. The hole looked worse without the fabric covering it, but at least now I could see what I was working with. He grabbed the bottle of peroxide, and without giving himself the chance to think, poured it over the open wound.

"Shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck...." he repeated, over and over again until the burning subsided. Refusing to succumb to the black dots beginning to cloud his vision, he bit his hand and reached for the first aid kit.

Two rolls of gauze and an ACE bandage later, he stood up with some more curse words and walked into the kitchen. Dick found a can of chili that had expired last year, but he was hungry as fuck, so he ate it cold. He was elated to find out that the sink worked and chugged a nearly a gallon of water straight from the tap before collapsing into a dusty mattress.

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

"No, you can't. You're still a child!"

"I'm 26 years old. I'm far from a child."

"Then stop acting like one and get your head out of your ass! You have to start thinking about the other people in this family."

She blew my hair out of her face. Elle wasn't planning to have an all-out screaming match with her dad, but there they were at ten o'clock, waking the whole neighborhood.

"I am thinking about what Uncle Henry would have wanted."

"He had a stroke. He didn't want anything. He hadn't been up there in years. Neither have you."

Her dad thought for a moment. She knew her dad better than anyone else, and there's no way he didn't feel the same, but his practical side was winning over the sentimental side.

"Let's make a deal," Elle started, lowering her voice to a normal speaking tone, "I'm going to go up to the cabin and fix it up. Give me a month. If I can't get it fixed up in a month, give or take a few days, I'll sell it."

Her dad thought about it for a minute, "Okay. But you'll use your own money. And I can't take any time off to help you."

"I don't need you to. It'll be a nice break for me. I'll leave tomorrow morning."

The next morning Elle packed up her car with cleaning supplies, her best old clothes, and a hunting rifle. She waved goodbye to her family and backed out of the driveway without looking back.

Six hours later, the car started up the steep driveway to the cabin.

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

Dick woke up and his thigh hurt worse than before. He staggered to the living area and sat down on the now blood-stained couch. Despite just waking, he was fighting to stay awake. He unwrapped the ACE bandage and removed the gauze to see the wound was still bleeding, although less so than the night before. There was also a foul smell and his leg around the wound was red and swollen.

"Fuck, it's infected," he breathed to himself. Before he could assess the situation further, he heard the crunch of tires on gravel. He tried to stand, but his leg wouldn't support him. He grabbed the gun he'd left in the couch the night before and pointed it at the front door.

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

Elle grabbed her duffle and the caddy of cleaning supplies and headed for the front door. She went to grab her key, but the lock had been shot off. Without thinking about it, she pushed the door open with her foot. She heard a click.

She looked up to see a guy with bleached hair pointing a pistol at her, sitting on the couch without pants on. Elle immediately dropped the bags in her hands.

thatredheadwriter’s Masterlist

[rickys-crypt]

Bringing Your Girl to the Cookout: Class 1A Girls X Black!GN!Reader

I didn't have time to do a whole lot but I did want to do a little something! Hope your day was enjoyable! Happy Valentine's day AND Black History Month!

Yeah, you don't have to worry about Mina. She knows what to do.

She brings some yams and you spend half the night making sure no one slanders them.

Not that anyone would. They're delicious.

You in the kitchen? She's right by your side, helping you bring the food out.

Visiting with the grandparents? She's charming them effortlessly with her bubbly personality.

Dealing with your hatin-ass aunties? She's dishing it right back with a smile.

You love her so much.

She knows all the dances. The cupid shuffle. The electric slide. The wobble. She knows some you ain't even heard of!

Your cousins love her.

In fact, a few of them love her a little too much, and you gotta remind them who she came with.

"AHT! That's MY girl. The only one she backing that thang up on is ME. Get to stepping."

She laughs, more than a little happy to hear you call her yours.

Momo, bless her heart, did not understand potato salad.

"Why don't we just get some from the store?" "Baby my family will clown me until kingdom come if we bring store-bought potato salad."

She was excited to help you through!

"How's this?" "Mmm, needs a little more salt and pepper."

It was all worth it to see everyone watch her as if she was an angel when the two of you arrived.

Probably won't dance with you, but has a plate or something to drink waiting for when you sit down.

Everyone already treats her like she's part of the family.

Your grandma already told her she can use the family veil in the wedding.

"Granny we're not even engaged-" "Then get a move on! I don't have all the time in the world to wait!"

Ochako surprised you on how well she can throw down in the kitchen.

Your momma was so mad somebody made her signature greens until she got a bite.

Now she giving you the 'if-you-don't marry-her' look and you're low-key sweating.

She also loves the kids, and they love watching her use her Quirk.

She asks you to make her a plate bc she trusts you to know what's good and you almost swoon.

Everyone loves this absolute sweetheart.

She doesn't know any of the dances, but once she sees them she's got the moves down.

She has a great time, and you're so glad to see her so happy.

Everyone doesn't really know what to think about Tsuyu at first. She seems a little distant at first, mostly sticking to you.

But as the night goes on, she opens up and everyone loves her calm personality.

Your uncle's are impressed at how good she is at poker, and you don't have the heart to tell then that you taught her how to play like two weeks ago.

Always asks if anyone wants anything when she gets up, and always remembers to bring it back.

Also made the mac and cheese everyone's been raving about.

You helped, but the two of you were both so excited to see her do it herself.

She steals your jacket later on and snuggles into you bc she gets cold, and you think she looks absolutely adorable.

Kyouka, bless her heart, cannot cook to save her life.

However, her punch is the bomb.

You are so glad you convinced her to make two pitchers and bring the stuff she uses to make it bc everyone loved it.

She tends to stick to you all night, but she's still happy to say hello to everyone.

Your cousins start clowning you and you have to resist the urge to start swinging.

"It's the dating a girl who looks like a Japanese version of Hayley Williams for me." "It's about to be the broken ribs for me if you don't shut up."

She gets anxious and you have to explain that they don't mean anything bad by it, and that it's just how y'all communicate a little later to calm her down.

One of your little cousins started learning the guitar, and you convince them to let her borrow it.

The two of you end up doing a duet and it's super cute.

You try to give the guitar back but lil man won't take it.

"You want me to keep playing after that? Nah!"

She offers to give him a lesson, and you don't see her again until you make her a plate and go to give it to her.

The way she smiles up at you has you falling in love with her all over again.

The two of you made chicken. Toru had never had your chicken before, and after one bite she was in love.

She scared anyone who had the nerve to say it wasn't that good behind your back.

She also "accidentally" spilled her water on one of your cousins's friends who wouldn't stop trying to hit you up.

Hey, no means no amiright?

She always manages to get the last of your favorites right under people's noses.

Sits in your lap most of the night since people just tend to accidentally sit on her if she sits in a chair.

She also knows most of the dances, and the two of you dance the night away in each other's arms.

[shotbyshe]

8.10.21

So I did the June challenge and it was very rewarding and therapeutic and eye-opening for me. However, it was also a bit draining to edit them (even a little bit) everyday. Therefore I gave myself a month off (July) to see what other kind of mental challenge I could give myself, and I realized that I stopped writing this year.

Writing helped me a lot last year and I think this month is a good time to get back to it. Therefore I will be writing "how I'm feeling today" everyday from this day forward.

Last year around this time I was unsure of things. I was trying to be someone I’m not. I hope this process will help me to keep my mind on track...somewhat.

[ Obviously I have to put it on the internet because that is the best way to track and find things for me these days (for like 12 years now bruh). ]

TODAY I'm feeling like I am finally having a good 2021. I feel like I know what I am doing now....somewhat. This life is about knowing yourself and I'm doing that everyday. I learned today and yesterday that I NEED TO HAVE MEALS. I can't snack anymore. My body is no longer built that way. I also NEED TO HAVE STRUCTURE. I used to always be like this: make a plan, make a schedule, make a to-do list, check your calendar, check your alarms, when and where and what time must we do this. Somewhere along the way I stumbled, I stopped being like that. I told myself "God laughs at those who plan", “just take things as they come, don't schedule or keep track”, “it's pointless you will not follow it.” However, I need the structure. I really do, and it helps me loads. To know what I need to get done, what I have done, when I did it, how I did it, and what to do now is very crucial in my life, now at this age (early 30s). “It whittles the world down” and forces me to stay focused. I tend to get overwhelmed and distracted easily (short attention span and all). However when I have a goal in place and set to do them, I actually succeed. I’ve had so many successes this year that took very small effort. All I did was prepare and organize, and things fell into my lap.

So I guess that's today. I also made myself a bomb ass shrimp arugula salad and had a constructive positive convo with a relative without arguing or getting emotional. She's growing guys, she's learning.

**Also the east coast Summer weather has been quite amazing. I see Autumn in the horizon.....

***Not me taking mirror selfies in new clothes like I did at 22...

[trvelyans-archive]

i am on my hands and knees begging for u to tell me about lila and margot 🙏

jasmine.............. thank you for this gift

under the cut because i expect it’ll get very long <3 :) update after i finished writing: it is, in fact, very long and also took me over an hour. so. take that as whatever sort of warning you might want.

let’s start with margot !

she was born to a couple of really young parents who..... did not want to be parents. at all. they were still in the party-and-get-drunk phase of their life and didn’t want to have a kid to worry about, so a large part of her childhood was spent couch surfing between relatives, mostly her grandfather.

they were really close! he would help her with her homework, they would cook together, he would let her drink underage so that she was well-versed in beer by the time she was like. idk. 16 lol. but she felt closer to him than her own parents, who were good when they were around but. they mostly weren’t around <3

when she was 19, her grandpa starting showing pretty serious signs of memory loss and whatnot and eventually had to be moved into a home. she was living with him by that point, so she had to continue to spend a year or so of her adult life couchsurfing. it didn’t help that she was in school full-time to get an engineering degree of. some kind. i think mechanical engineering. idk. and didn’t have a job, so to pay back her roommates she took up a majority of the housework as well as picked up odd jobs on the weekend. her grandpa’s health continued to decline through this time so she didn’t actually mind being busy because then she. didn’t have to think about it at all <3

and then.............. when she was 20......... her boyfriend of a year  suggested that she not only move in with him but that they get married and margot, who has never had stability ever in her life, jumped at the opportunity !

after she graduated, she found it incredibly hard to find a career (even though they were in the same program and He had no trouble finding one), so she was back to not working but her husband didn’t mind and he supported her whole-heartedly. during this time she started running and then eventually started going to a gym with a couple of her female friends from their neighbourhood! she would also spend a lot of time at her grandpa’s but his health was still rapidly declining. eventually her now-husband said that she should probably stop visiting him and margot was like “.... ok i guess”

And then. :)

she kept spending time outside of the house and started taking self-defense classes with a few of her friends and her husband was started to get very antsy. he wanted her to be at home, told her that he didn’t like her going out at night or, eventually, at all, and would find ways to keep her home every night so she didn’t go out. during this time he also started getting. um. very manipulative. he was easily triggered into starting arguments. so she increased the frequency of her self-defense classes and, eventually, they became Very Useful in an argument with her husband. so. we hate him :)

after that she filed for a divorce, moved away and changed her name to her late grandmother’s last name. she started working at a gym in her new town and eventually decided to open her own ! she had gotten the building about 2-3 weeks before the outbreak hit and didn’t have any furniture or equipment of any kind, so she met up with 2 middle-aged women from her old gym and they travelled together until one of them was bitten in a fight with walkers and dragged into a big crowd of them to be eaten and the other one was bitten and margot had to shoot her when she got zombified and tried to attack. :(

that’s where i have left off for now but i am going to develop her More the more i watch the show !!!

okay. backstory over. now for the fun bits:

her faceclaim is mackenzie davis specifically in terminator (without the. lines on her arms and whatever idk what those are) and this picture is the most margot-vibe imaginable.

the haircut was an incredibly recent choice but it came in handy during the outbreak because she didn’t have to worry about keeping hair out of her face. girlboss !

she is 6′2 :) her and her husband were funnily enough the 2 tallest people in her graduating class

she spoke occasionally to her parents after graduating and moving away but they fell out of touch a year or so before the outbreak began and she......................... unsurprisingly doesn’t miss them at all

she has 1 keepsake and it’s an old keychain of her grandpa’s and if anything happens to it. she will kill everyone in any room and Then herself !!!

she likes to where tank tops to show off her big arms. is this very ergonomical in the apocalypse where zombie bites can kill you instantly ? nope! will she do it anyway to intimidate people ? yup!

she Cannot cook. at all. she lived off of take-out and microwavable meals for the first 20 years of her life and then she always had someone else making food for her until she moved away on her own when it was back to takeout.

on the topic of food :) her fave foods are mac and cheese with breadcrumbs and meatlover’s pizza !

she will do literally anything for a good beer. anything. she keeps an eye out for them every time she goes scavenging in buildings and will try to get at least 1 bottle per trip. girlboss !

she cannot sing. in fact she’s not just average, she’s Terrible. she can, however, play mad guitar because her grandpa taught her.

now onto miss lila :)

she was born in a town a couple over from rick’s and was the younger sister of 2 ! she had a really great family and a very very happy childhood :) her dad was a wildlife rehabilitator and her mom was a landscaper who took a lot of pride in their nice big backyard and garden and Land where they. you know. rehabiliated the wildlife and what not

she worked a lot with her dad and mom at their wildlife centre and also helped her mom garden a lot (their house was on the same property as the centre so it was a nice big plot of land). she took a lot of interest in rehabilitating animals and it sparked a very early childhood interest in Caring for things (namely little wild critters) which extended to her helping out little kids on the playground when they got scraped knees and things. she always had a package of bandaids in her backpack from second grade on. an angel <3

in her final year of high school she had a very quick fling with a boy from her high school that ended… poorly. and then she got pregnant! which she. Did not expect. nor want. nor need in her life because she was planning on moving to atlanta to go to medical school and kickstart her career. her sister, who had recently dropped out of school and lost her job, decided to Take One for the team and claim the baby as hers so lila could go to medical school and stuff. their parents promised to take good care of her and they all made a plan to hide lila’s pregnancy from their town (although i’m sure literally everyone knows anyway) and then she moved away in the summer after giving birth to go to school

she quickly finished up her nursing program but was out of job for a few years until she got a job offer to be the nurse at king county elementary school aka the school were one Carl Grimes goes to school. she moved there in may and one night, when her car Squealed to a stop in front of a dog who had run away from his home and was being chased by. Um. a certain sheriff’s deputy who was intending on bringing the puppy back home <3 they got to talking and. Well. the rest is history…..

she was a very beloved member of the staff and kids would often fake sick just to come to her office and get a sucker and she grew esp close to the grimes family :D after a couple of years living in king county she got a job to start working at some fancy prep school in atlanta and decided that actually she might want to. You know. start being a mom now that she was finished with school and had a career. so she moved away from king county at the end of the next school year and was unfortunately in atlanta when it was bombed by the government at the start of the outbreak so she and her daughter and sister all died :) and that’s that !

some fun facts because that was a very depressing end to her story:

she always has suckers in her office at school and her favourites are the watermelon ones.

she can often be found gardening in her backyard or watching the birds in the trees like a little nature baby !!!

she is very meticulous about planning. she Does have a daily agenda. she Will kill you if you touch it. shane likes to leave her little notes in it for her to find when she’s at school. sometimes they are not Just cute. she usually erases those.

she likes collecting ugly thrift store paintings of animals and hangs them up in her dining room and she Does think they are incredibly funny.

she is a vegetarian !!! very unwavering about it. shane finds it annoying because he’s good at cooking steak but she just has a salad and then they’re both perfectly happy <3

sends basically everyone she knows a Christmas/holiday card every year. even the teachers at the elementary school who don’t like her and or barely talk to her !!!

she is a terrible maker of tea and usually forgets about cups before she’s even halfway through them (thank god for her). makes everyone tea when they come over except shane (stupid ass) because he doesn’t like it and usually people just politely swallow it even though it’s too steeped or. sorry idk how tea works. she just Makes It Bad ok

she perpetually forgets to do laundry. Most of her non-scrubs have dirt stains or dressing stains or whatnot (except for her Really nice clothes) which is why she tries to buy a lot of patterns. makes things easier to hide <3

and that’s it for now !!! i have so much other lore for them but i will stop here for now :) thank you very much if you read this also i’m very sorry i have twd brainworms i cannot help it. anyway ok that’s it thanks love you bye

[razorblade180-heated]

Hunger

[Lewd]

Jaune:*Opens door* I’m hom-

Weiss:*hugging him* Never take a three month long mission ever again!

Jaune:You miss me?

Weiss:Very much. A week in and I realized just how rough this was going to be.

Jaune:We face time almost everyday.

Weiss:*red* You can’t hold me through a scroll.

He smiled at her words and wrapped his arms around her nice and snug. She wasn’t the only one who missed this. It was always nice being with Weiss; especially after a mission. She smelled nice, or maybe he just needed a shower from the trip. Finally they let go of each other and Weiss gave him a chaste kiss he wished that was a bit longer.

Weiss:I made dinner already if you’re hungry.

Jaune:*look at the kitchen*

The stove stop had saw a pot of pasta and a salad bowl nicely prepared. Jaune’s eyes widened in shock and turned back to see Weis with a smug look followed by placing her hands on her hips.

Jaune:Are you telling me all I had to do was leave for awhile and you would’ve learned to cook?

Weiss:Takeout gets expensive. I had plenty of time to learn a couple of meals. They aren’t as good as yours obviously but I think I did pretty well. *smiles* I’ll make you some.

Jaune:(She’s lively today. Did she miss me that much?)

Jaune watched his girlfriend happily hum as she made him a bowl. Her hips swaying back in forth while she danced in place. Jaune’s heart couldn’t help but flutter watching her be so happy. However, he wasn’t even that hungry. For food that is.

“I’m glad you weren’t here for the first attempts weeks ago.” Weiss said a bit embarrassed. “Ruby got a bit mad when I-” her words were cut off by the sudden feeling of Jaune’s arms around her waist which caused her to jump a little and put down the bowl. Weiss looked up at him and was taken into a deep kiss before she could say anything. Jaune slid the bowl out of the way then continued to deepen the embrace.

Weiss’s face grew red as she surrendered to the feeling of Jaune’s tongue quickly overpowering her own before separating their lips moments later. Not without a little resistance from Weiss however, who began standing on her toes the moment he started pulling away. A desperate attempt to make the kiss last a few seconds longer on her part. “That’s a fine way of telling me you missed me.” Her face still flushed from the embrace.

“Of course I missed you. Your smile, your hugs, your kisses...” his hands went down to Weiss’s long, pale legs before slowly dragging his fingers up them and pass the skirt line towards her sensitive thighs. Weiss shuddered as he didn’t stop and pressed his fingers right against her now aching mound. “Your body...” Jaune said, whispering into his snow angel’s ear before kissing it. Oh how she missed this touch.

Weiss wanted to protest about him resting or needing to bathe but instead found her hands gripping the stove top and moaning lightly as Jaune kept rubbing his fingers against her panties. Weiss arched her back instinctively and felt his hard on press through his jeans and up against her butt. Jaune’s left hand rose to pull down Weiss’s dress until her chest was exposed to the warm kitchen air and he grabbed a hold of her supple left tit.

“We....ah...we have a bedroom Jaune.” Weiss’s legs trembled a bit and she held her head down while allowing Jaune to continue his advances. This felt fantastic. Weiss was hoping for a bit of fun but wasn’t expecting it moments after Jaune walked through the door. She couldn’t stop her hips from gliding along his fingers in an attempt to speed things along.

“Couldn’t wait any longer. I’ve thought about you nonstop for months.” His voice got a rasp and ruggedness in it that gave Weiss a chill. There was no use trying to tease him or drag out the tension longer than needed. She had made it pretty obvious that she had no objections to what was happening. “Fine by me.” Weiss moaned out loud.

Weiss put her forearms on the stovetop and bent over lower. Not seeing Jaune’s movements made this far more exciting than it it probably should’ve been. Weiss couldn’t help but think of what her blonde teammate would think of this. ‘Yang would never let me live this down.’ Her attention was brought back to Jaune has she felt him finally release her boob and chose to undo her ponytail; her hair falling down her back. He then turned her head towards him and leaned in for another kiss that was as passionate as the first.

Jaune finally slid her panties to the side and slid a finger into her soaked entrance. A long moan came from Weiss and into his mouth. The pleasure was briefly lived however because Jaune almost immediately removed the now slick digit. Weiss was about to whine in disapproval but heard the sound of the man’s zipper coming undo. The feeling of him pressing the head of his length right against her was indescribable. Jaune had to break the kiss for much needed air and used the time to place his right hand on Weiss’s hip and the other raising her skirt up to get a perfect view of Weiss’s heart shaped ass.

She could feel Jaune’s gaze on her which only made her more anxious and redder. Weiss slowly pushed herself backwards prompting Jaune to thrust forward and feel surrounded by drenched, hot flesh that clung to his length; urging him to go deeper until all of him rested inside her. He then slowly pulled out to the tip before thrusting back in with more speed and for rhythmically. His hips colliding with Weiss’s ass, creating an intoxicating sound Jaune would never get tired of.

“Ahhh! Fuck, right there Jaune! Just like that!” Weiss moaned and shivered at the pleasure of being filled by her boyfriend for so long. They were in sync; pressing against each other at just the right time to get as deep as possible inside the petite huntress. Weiss couldn’t find the strength to raise her head any longer despite wanting another kiss. The sensations given with each thrust left her no choice but to rest her head in her arms and simply let herself succumb to bliss. Letting out yelps and gasps of air as Jaune kept thrusting. Now placing both hands on her exposed waist with his thumbs pressing into the dimples on her lower back he loved so much.

“Gods you’re so wet, so tight!” Jaune groaned heavily as his pleasure built up. The auditable sound of their intimacy growing louder and more like the sound of shoes in the rain. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too...! I-ahhh! Ah, I..close! Don’t stop!” Weiss couldn’t stop moaning or trembling. She was glad foreplay was short or else she might’ve came from the start. It was embarrassing to think about but it was clear her body missed him just as much as her heart did. Jaune was the same. His grunts became more strained the more he continued to spread her constricting walls. He was near his limit. But he didn’t want to disappoint Weiss.

The young man pulled out briefly and stood Weiss straight up immediately while turning her around. The young woman had no time to question or react before Jaune pulled her into another kiss. Weiss’s right arm proper her body up against the stove once more as her body began to lean back; accepting the lustful kiss. A second later Jaune hooked his hand around the back of her knee and lifted her leg up. Weiss understood his intention and helped raise it while he plunged all the way back inside her; striking deeper than before.

Weiss’s head was spinning and her body felt like a bomb about to explode. She put her left arm around Jaune’s neck and gave way to the pleasure. She was thankful Jaune used his free hand to replace hers on the stove; using it to grab ahold of his hip and rock her body to meet his thrust until she finally couldn’t take it anymore. She broke the kiss and gather what air she could.

“I’m...I’M...!!!!” That was she could put before what felt like a surge of lightning ripped through her body and made her shake. Jaune felt her clamp down around him like a vice and it sent him over the edge. “Weiss!” He gasped before cumming hard inside of her. She continued to cling to her boyfriend as her felt every spurt of his essence fill her up. The warmth and pleasure of it all helped ride out her own orgasm as she still slowly rocked back and forth against him before finally stopping.

Both could feel the rise and fall of each other’s chest as well as the pounding of their hearts. They’d worked up a little sweat but neither cared in the slightest. Especially Jaune who placed his head in the crook of Weiss’s neck; peppering it with kisses that made her giggle happily. Affection before, during, and after sex. Truly he knew how to make every second with him magical.

Weiss:Wow, you weren’t kidding when you meant that you missed me.

Jaune:Says the girl who bent over without me saying anything. Where nights as lonely for you as they were for me?

Weiss:*blushing* Perhaps. Next time let’s both go on a mission together okay.

Jaune:Fine by me. I love you my snow angel.

Weiss:And I love you my knight.

This time Jaune gave her a regular kiss filled with love and admiration. He really was a lucky guy. The two finally separated completely and fixed themselves up; well, as much as they could. Red faces and a bit of sweat would probably need a shower. Something Weiss would like if it wasn’t for the deep growl that came from both of their stomachs that made them both laugh. Jaune gave his bowl to her and made another one for himself.

Weiss:It’s a good thing I cooked before hand. *takes a bite*

Jaune:Yep! *takes a bite*

......

Weiss:Wanna order takeout?

Jaune:Yes please.

[maisondenachtai]

Title: Nerd Vs Nerd progress: 2/?? (want to read part 1? click here!) characters: henry cavill x reader summary: reader makes bomb ass wigs, okay?

Laying down lace fronts wasn’t something that was always needed on set, but somehow you always found yourself somewhere in the backgrounds of the ultra-busy set waiting to be needed. You weren’t a hairstylist, at least that wasn’t what you were recruited for. Your job was to create concept wigs and often create what was called the up-close wigs, meaning that the wigs that you were in charge of were the ones that needed extra detailing and more quality. However, that was something to be done off set and you couldn’t really understand why you were there. For now, your job was to watch the show be done and try hard not to oogle Henry when he was all dressed up as Geralt, which was a hard job.

Every now again when the director yelled cut, and they were preparing for a reshoot, Henry would shoot you some kind of glance. Sometimes a grin was attached to it, sometimes a full on smile, and sometimes it was just a look. The looks, with no smile, were the ones that set you on fire the most. Those looks were the ones where he looked the most like Geralt, even with the 2nd tier wig on his head.

It was one of those looks he shot at you, and you shifted a little in your seat only holding his gaze for a half a minute before looking elsewhere. The set was interesting, so many details. So many colors used. You could only imagine- you had looked away long enough. Your eyes eventually wandered back to Henry but he was looking straight at the camera as a makeup artist touched up his makeup, a slight smirk on his face.

               Action was called again and Henry once again morphed into Geralt. Honestly, in the couple of months that you had been watching him play Geralt, all of your doubts had vanished. Not only was he a good actor, but he was a great Geralt. He completely immersed himself in his role, often discussing what he thought Geralt’s motivation would be for a particular part of the script with you during the times where you were laying his wig. Or listing out the pros and cons of playing up game Geralt over book Geralt or vice versa at times. In fact, sometimes Henry’s understanding of Geralt surprised you and often went past just a casual fan or even somewhat more advanced fan as you were. To say you were happy he was cast was an understatement, you felt more than excited to see the finished product. More than you probably would be if someone such as Idris Elba was cast.

               Cut was called again and the lunch break was announced, Henry walked right over to you smiling.

“You were staring again you know?” He rubbed at his temples; the wigs would often give him tension headaches.

“I wasn’t.” You smiled at him. “You want to get that off before you eat?”

Henry gestured towards the food, “Aren’t you hungry?”

You shrugged, “It won’t take more than fifteen minutes. I’ll eat after.”

Henry placed his hands behind his back, “Or…I could get someone to make us some plates up and we could eat in my trailer while you remove the wig a bit.”

You looked around noticing that people were taking extra care not to look directly at you…or rather Henry, “Yeah and then what would people say about the hair artist being in your trailer for an extended period of time?”

Henry smirked, “I don’t give a damn about what people say. So is this a plan or no?”

               Some how you were sitting in a makeup chair in front of Henry who was lounged out on a couch, a forkful of salad going towards his mouth. His wig was lifted away from his temples, make up smudged and moved from where you took a cotton swab damp with acetone to the wig.

You, however, had opted for the most calorie ridden meal you could get, a greasy bacon cheeseburger and fries. “You’re really dedicated you know?”

“Why because I’m eating salads?” He smirked and took another forkful in his mouth.

You nodded, “You got the job, and you’re already ripped. You go on water fasts just so your skin will be thin…like that’s dedication. I could never do it.”

“Well, I just think you should give your best work to the job.” He sat up and took a drink of water to clear his mouth. “I mean, how long does it take you to make Geralt’s wigs?”

You mulled it over for a minute, “Well at first it was a long process but now that I know the colors to use and how the director’s want it most times, it only takes a week.”

He put his plate down and looked at her. The seriousness in his face made her still.

“And you don’t think that’s dedication?” He asked you.

“I mean…. I love it, though. So, it doesn’t feel that way. Plus, the studio pays me a lot of money…and besides, I’m not an actor. I mean, I’m not doing a super important job.”

Henry shifted his eyes away from yours, looking down at his plate. He picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth. The energy in the room had shifted from relatively calm to slightly charged. You shifted in your chair as a slight nervousness went through your body.

“…what did we talk about y/n?” He looked at you.

You sighed slightly, “…Not discrediting my work.”

“And?”

“Myself.” You mumbled.

He leaned over closer to you and gripped your jaw gently, “You are just as important as anyone out there on the set. You are a very invaluable part of this production, and I really don’t want to have this discussion again.” He said quietly, his eyes darting over your face. You gasped slightly at the sound of the threat, wondering why you wanted to know what he would do if he had to have this discussion again. Why the sound of his slight threat, made you wet?

Your eyes traveled over his face and settled on his slightly ajar lips, making you bite down on your bottom lip. Henry moved slightly closer to you, gripping your face tighter. Your eyes drifted close; your mouth opened slightly to accommodate what you thought would be a kiss.

Knock. Knock.

You both jumped back slightly as any magic, any tension between you dissipated within an instant. You jumped up making yourself busy with anything that you could.

Henry cleared his throat and ran his hand through his askwed wig, “Yes?” He answered.

You’re wanted back on set in 15 minutes, Mr. Cavill.

“Thank you.” He stood up and sat in your chair. He took a breath and smiled at your reflection.

“Let’s get Geralt back on, shall we?”

(author’s note: ...I know nothing about nothing...but this is kind of forming into something. it probably won’t be of substance...but it’s fun. also, that’s the first fiction/fan fiction cover I’ve made in yearrrrrs.)

[sneakers-and-shakes]

I Tried Only Doing What I Want For A Day

And this is how it turned out....

How many times have you seen a quote that says something along the lines of: live each day like it’s your last, only do what you want, etc. Well, not too long ago I rediscovered a tumblr post that said the following:

And I thought, alright, challenge accepted. I figured it would be hard (the post even says it) because many of the things done in a day are out of necessity, like going to work, or because you have to, like completing homework. And I knew it would be difficult to push those responsibilities aside, I just didn’t realize how hard it would be.

My first hurdle, as silly as it sounds, was calling out of work. Now, this could have been avoided had I scheduled time off, but for some reason, perhaps because I was afraid of being denied, I didn’t. As a result, I proceeded to make a very anxiety-inducing call about being sick and not being able to come in.

Playing hooky is something everyone has done at some point, but it’s more foreign to me, so I proceeded to feel extremely guilty about lying and not showing up when I was capable of going to work (it’s much easier to call out when you’re actually sick or have a commitment you don’t want to break).

The thing that made it extremely difficult however, was that it was surprisingly hard to break the routine. It was a random Thursday and I felt myself feeling compelled to follow the beats of the day and to break routine even though I wanted to do it, was really hard. Straying from the beaten path is really hard.

But, I got through it, I called out of work and cleared my day.

Then I faced my second hurdle, I didn’t know what I wanted to do. That sounds dumb given the entire point of the day was to only do what I want, but suddenly when faced with all the options while also still feeling jarred from my break in routine (and slightly guilty for lying), I hit a wall. All of my options sounded nice, bit nothing was jumping out at me.

At this point I decided that if I didn’t know what I wanted, I’d push myself in a direction, preferably a new one and just do it.  And since I already had a rough plan in my mind of what I wanted to do, I went forward with it.

It started with a drive to the nearby forest preserve/park and forced myself to get out of the car (because I still felt awkward and bad and clueless) and go for a walk.

A theme throughout this day was this looming fear that something would go wrong, or something bad would happen. Maybe because I kept it a secret from everybody that I was afraid, in a weird way, of getting caught, even though the likelihood of that was very low.

So I went on a slightly paranoid walk, never straying too far from my car. I think in a perfect world I wouldn’t have cared so much and gone on a proper walk through the trails but I couldn’t being myself to do that.

From there, I followed the beats of what a self-care/treat yourself kind of day would be. I came home, drew a bath (which I haven’t done in ages and actually had to scrub my tub before I filled it with water) and had a “spa” day complete with a bath bomb (my first one), a candle, spa music and a face mask.

Theme number 2 of the day was, that nothing was perfect. Even though I had more control over the day, things weren’t perfect (which makes sense cause life isn’t perfect). The water was a little too hot, I burned myself lighting the candle, and I grew kind of restless in the bath.

After that I followed my first true want of the day which was a bomb ass salad from somewhere. After some research I decided to Jason’s Deli (I had never been there before) and got their black bean taco salad.

(I would totally recommended it.)

I’m sure you’ve also seen those posts about treating yourself or taking yourself out on a date. Well my friends, I did just that, getting lunch all by myself at a place that wasn’t Taco Bell.

I hit another wall after lunch and ended up going to a few stores to look at some coats (since I need a new one), which was…fine.

Theme 3 of the day was that a lot of the time I ended up doing things I didn’t mind doing versus something I concretely wanted. Like when I didn’t know what to do after lunch, I knew I wouldn’t mind looking at some new coats, so I did. It didn’t jump out at me, but it was fine all the same.

Getting a latte before heading home once again was my other real want of the day (it’s easier to want when it comes to food I guess). Now sitting here writing this with my caramel latte, my day isn’t over. But I know as soon as my family gets home I will end up doing things I need to, rather than want. My day to myself ends in a few hours, but at the same time I get to fall back into my normal comfortable routine.

(EDIT: I did continue to do things I wanted later in the day when I had downtime again, binge watching some Youtube rather than working on editing my book because I didn’t feel like it)

So overall, how was this day? Was I able to accomplish my goal? And the answer is…kind of.

Like a lot of things in life, there’s too many shades of grey to give a concrete answer. But what I will say is that I tried. And that is what matters, because I had to really push myself to do this. It extended beyond the reaches of my comfort zone and I pushed myself despite the fear and worry, and I did it.

This day was uncomfortable for me, nice but uncomfortable, and that’s the first sign I pushed myself.

Sure I didn’t take a proper walk around the park, but it was something new and different and I’d never done it before in this manner so the fact that I even got out of my car was a big step. Sure even my “relaxing spa experience” wasn’t perfect, but at least I got to try out a bath bomb. Sure I ended up doing some window shopping that I didn’t mind doing but it was still productive and I at least walked away with a few scrunchies I’d been meaning to buy.

And most of all I wanted to do this “experiment” so I could write about it. It was a challenge, something new and different, and my real life experience to trying to do what travel vlogs and Pinterest posts encourage. And you know what, I got to try new things, push my comfort zone, and write about it to share with other people, what more could I ask for.

I’ve learned a lot from this experience and I know what I’d do differently next time, and I hope that you reading this have learned a little something too. So now I challenge you, dear reader, to try to spend a day (or as much of it as you can) only doing things you want. I’d love to hear how it goes for you, I wonder if it’ll be easier for you than it was for me. 

If you try it, please comment or if you write about it tag me so I can see how it went. I’m curious to know how other people react to this.

And this is where I leave off this absurdly long blog post with a challenge and my well wishes.

So with that, I say, see ya in the next one!

[raguna-blade]

Revolutionary Girl Utena 1-3

So after uh...Many years, I’ve finally started watching revolutionary girl utena. Just a bit a week with a friend, so as it goes.

And so far so good! It’s fun times, and while I know a decent chunk of spoilers, I don’t really have the context for any of them so whatever there. Mostly, I just know enough that I should probably over read into them for maximum amusement. so just a few things I noticed, Sans Pictures, because I lack the technology (or at least the willingness to do so. I mean I guess there’s Youtube.)

Anyway.

Episode 1: -They just go into it establishing that thesis don’t they? -Saionji is a Diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick. -My Girl really going to cut off a rose with a blunt Shinai somehow. Ok.

-“Just classmates” Wow. Saionji is a dick, this is established, but to watch the light die in his eyes like that hurt. This is episode 1 Man, you can’t go killing someone’s spirit like that in episode 1

Episode 2

-Saionji Want’s his Salt Back. I Predict he will not get his salt back.

--Spoilers, he Does Not Get his Salt back, he gets absolutely brinned the dumb green idiot.

-Hey. Utena. Utena are we just going to ignore how you closed that door for like 5 minutes (or hell however long you want really) and opened it and suddenly the room doesn’t look like a bomb went off and now it’s clean and Anthy Just...Showed up and Asserted herself? Are we ignoring that? Ok. -Saionji, the Kendo Captain, also 14ish years old, just gonna bust out that good old fashioned REAL JAPANESE STEEL FOLDED 80 TIMES SHARP ENOUGH TO BISECT THE SOUL.

-Also, I left this til now, But Hey We’re Married Now? Fiance Cool, Cool. Uh...Hey, why the fuck is Utena in a Pink Rose Bride Outfit. Suspect.

-Hey Related, WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THE WHITE ROSE CENSORSHIP!? Like Uh... Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

-So hey, Roses Are Color Associated, Let’s Keep an Eye on that. Hair Colors seem to be the jim jam that does it. So Green with Saionji, Pink with Utena. White with uh...Dios? Fucked up Inverted Castle Boi. I guess Anthy would be in Purple if she ever duels, so we’ll write that down for later. Though Engaging yourself seems in universe tricky so you know. Probably not. Although counter Point, Knight Anthy in that sweet intro. Hey, wait, what do those armors look like again? Later I guess.

--Sorry, the Optical Illusion (that...Are we also not gonna acknowledge the big ass tower you walked up and can’t see from inside? i get that you already had a weird thing going on but just gonna ignore that? That’s life now? Ok. Fair enough, you got engaged by deflowering a dude with a....Uh...No. No I do not like where that particular statement was going nevermind.)

Episode 3

-Ah. Anthy is ‘popular’ with the freshman boys. Ok. Wait, how old is she? I thought they said middleschool, so this is highschool? Ish?

-A Dance. A Bunch of people. Is this gonna go Carrie? Ok.

-...Are....Are those condoms along with that dress.

-Nanami: Fuck that Girl in Particular Who has Stolen My Brothers Heart.

--So Hold, fine, but has she ever interacted with Touga? (Red Hair, Red Rose? Big Challenge Boss Dude?) Enough that Nanami would think she’s stolen his heart somehow?

---Related, The Dress is Green, more the green of Saionji’s rose so...Uh...Is that a thing to watch out for? There was that Kendo Hall Scene but they for the moment are just kinda...Not...well, Looking at each other like that. Or at least i’m not getting the vibe yet. Considering they’re both aggressively going after Anthy and Utena respectively I guess whatever there. It’s a long series, and What I know suggests things will be getting a lot more gay so we’ll see.

-----Last Thing, I find it funny that so far they combine to make the “proper” rose color which is amusing. Wonder if there’s anything to the other pairings there should it come down to it.

-Utena, how the actual FUCK did you switch from a shoulder exposing dress to the school outfit. No, fuck the tablecloth into dress thing, Where did she have that. She hot Hucked that dress off, was she just wearing it under the skirt? Was she waiting for this moment? Were you just wearing your shirt around your waste waiting for a moment to dramatically unclothe and reclothe yourself?

-So touched on the dress before, but listen. Listen for a moment please. It dissolves when it got sprayed with....Alcohol? Water? Seltzer? How Old Are they supposed to be? Whatever, A Frothy White liquid hit it and it dissolved, which, fine I guess, except where did Nanami get cotton candy clothes (apparently?) and also, I am not letting this go why did the dress dissolve when a frothy white liquid hit it and what were you expecting to happen with those Condoms Nanami. Like shit this is a layered metaphor gag thing going on here because she get’s declothed in...Wait wasn’t that around the same spot where the flowers were? Nope. We’re done here.

--No, we’re not done here, HOW old are they supposed to be again? I heard Middle School mentioned. We’re three eps in here folks, And while I expect some shit to go down, My Oh Lawd, Oh Fuck, Oh Shit o meter is dinging like mad And I am full of C O N C E R N.

-Now I should have mentioned this earlier but I’m assuming the Intro’s Outtros are actually kinda relevant to the show unlike a good chunk of shows, and uh...There’s questions to be raised there. Like the weird doubling thing in the outro, or the fact anthy hot vanishes, or how anthy kinda looks like she’s gonna fight Utena, and I’m not sure how much any of that is actually relevant, Well no that’s a lie I kinda know but I don’t know HOW much of How Much it is, But mostly, I bring this up because Those seem relevant lyrically and image wise, which is kinda making me wonder about the stuff during the duels since those seem pretty nonsense word salad. But also, Egg Shell Dying without Born so should I be looking at it poetry....Do they have unique songs for most/all the duels? Oh dear.

Well that’s it for now.

[sunrisehoneybee]

Cooking Lessons

You and Anti do a little cooking together.

Warnings: Language

Ever since the pancake incident, the guys have been much more helpful around the house with chores. However, the kitchen remained your domain. You liked cooking, found it peaceful, a creative outlet as you tried new things. It was the one thing that you and you alone did. Sure, Chase knew how to cook a few things, and Dark apparently was quite good at it, but he didn’t care to cook. As for the rest, it was just safer for everyone if they just did clean up afterward. The guys knew the kitchen was off limits from their shenanigans while you were cooking. So, when one evening Anti showed up and hovered, it caught you off guard.

“Hey, shoo. I’m cooking.” You flicked your fingers towards the door and turned back to the stove. His shadow fell across you, as he peered over your shoulder.

“Whatcha cooking?”

“Dinner, Anti. Now go.” He moved back, but only to hop up on the counter.

You sighed in exasperation, “Your ass is where I prepare the food we eat! Get your butt down.”

He grinned at you, not the least bit repentant. “How do you know what to do? You’re not even using a recipe.” He watched you as you stirred and seasoned.

“Butt. Down. Now.” He slid off the counter, wicked grin still in place. “I’ve been cooking lasagna for a while now. I don’t need a recipe.”

“Who taught you to cook? Your mum?”

“Oh, no.” You laugh wryly. “I mostly taught myself. My mom was a horrible cook. I also had a friend’s mom teach me some stuff.”  You went to the fridge and started pulling out stuff for a salad. “She wanted all of her kids, boys and girls both, not to mention us strays, to know how to cook, at least the basics.”

Anti watched you as you rinsed off the vegetables and grabbed a cutting board. “Can I help?”

“You want to learn how to cook?” You stopped what you were doing to look at him. Was he being serious or was this the start of one of his pranks?

“Maybe.” The grin was gone, as he watched you, waiting for your response. His sudden glitching told you this was a serious request, and not just him fucking around.

“Alright, what the hell. Here, you can start with chopping vegetables. You’re good with a knife, right?”

He snorted, “Bitch, I’m bomb with a knife.”

You pin him with a stare and arched brow, “You’ll pay for that later, glitch boy.”

The unrepentant grin was back, “Bet.”

Setting the cutting board down, you hand him a knife, “Have at it.” To your surprise, he picked up the knife and did a reasonable job cutting up the vegetables. He wasn’t especially fast, but it wouldn’t take much before he would be out-chopping any professional chef. What he didn’t have in speed, he made up for in accuracy. You were duly impressed.

“You don’t have to look so surprised.” He cut his eyes at you. “You know I’m good with a knife, and I’ve been watching the cooking channel.”

Chuckling, “There’s a difference between chopping up food and stabby stabby. But I’ll admit, you’re decent.”

He snorted and gave you the finger, making you laugh even harder. You left him to finish the rest of the vegetables, while you started assembling the lasagna. He would occasionally ask questions, but otherwise, you both fell into a comfortable silence.

Finally, everything was prepared or baking away. You were cleaning up a few things, when Anti asked, “Do you just throw this away?” pointing to a little bit of the cheese mixture.

“Oh no! That’s for us. Our treat. Here, I’ll show you.” You saved the end pieces from the loaf of bread when you made garlic bread. Tearing out the soft bread in the middle, you made a little pocket, then brushed it all over with the garlic butter. Filling the pocket with the last little bit of the cheese mixture, you stuck the bread in the oven, wrapped in foil.  

After ten minutes you pulled it out and let it cool, then handed one of them to Anti. “Cook’s treat.”

You both scarfed it down, dipping in the last bit of marinara and garlic butter. Anti licked his finger, and groaned, “That was good! Why didn’t we make more?”

Laughing at his forlorn expression, “That’s why it’s a treat. Just a little something before the main course, and not ruin your appetite. Come on, we have a while before the lasagna’s done. Let’s get the kitchen cleaned up a little.” Heading to the sink, you start running some water.

Grumbling a little, “Ugh, not my turn for dishes.”

“You saying you don’t want to play in hot, soapy water with me?” You laugh at his sulk.

Coming up behind you, he presses against your back, planting little kisses down your neck, “Hot, soapy water, yes. Dishes, no.” His hands lightly run down your shoulders and arms, sending little shocks into the water, when you keep trying to wash dishes.

“Ow!” You whack his arm, mostly in play. “We don’t have time for that.”

He keeps kissing you, moving to the side of your throat and toying with that bit of skin right above the waistline of your jeans, “We have more than enough time. It’ll be a treat.” He nipped your shoulder. “Before the main course later.”

You groan and roll your eyes, chuckling, but are persuaded to abandon washing dishes when his nimble hands slip lower. 

@justwritingscibbles  @aoniegherane2020  @jeremyfanboy  @fourthsinofamestris  

[gottalovetheletos]

Butterflies. Shannon Series. Ch 1.

Authors note: So guys. I am starting this series. I’m sorry this first chapter is just a little backstory and setting the scene. 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,916.

Butterflies. Chapter 1. 

Moving to London was a big step in the right direction for my career. I am a upcoming celebrity journalist, quite a successful one too. I get on with everyone I meet, I started out with local celebrities, like a winner of a charity race and now I’m interviewing people like Adele, Ed Sheeran etc. After 2 years of travelling back and forth to London from my parents house for my work, I had saved up enough money and am now moving into my newly built apartment. It was beautiful. I love the fact I can decorate it exactly how I want to. Plus I am only half an hours walk from the studio. The apartment consists of a large kitchen, which was fantastic because I also have a little cooking channel on YouTube and healthy living blog, just for a little extra income. I also have a large living room which fit my L-Shaped sofa perfectly. 3 bedrooms. Master with en-suite, guest and I turned the other one into an office/ make up room/ art studio. I had a gorgeous bathroom with a free standing bath and separate shower and a balcony for my dogs. Chihuahua Coco, my first dog and Hunter my blue eyed rescued Siberian husky. I also have a beta fish called Alpha-Beta.

It was our second night in our new fully furnished apartment. A couple of friends and I started yesterday and had unpacked and built most of the furniture. I just need to dress the place up a bit but there’s plenty of time for that, I did however manage to hang some of my own art work on the walls. I ordered take out as I haven’t been shopping but I’ll do that after work tomorrow. 5:30 pm and I’ve finished my dinner. I start running the bath manage to find a wrapped up bath bomb. Thankfully it was still okay, I dropped it in, the then clear water turned into a lush galaxy of pink, purple and blue. The steam filled the room and danced in the air. I sank deep into the oval freestanding bathtub and let all of my troubles drown in the water, my playlist of 30 seconds to mars playing in the background. After an hour soaking in the tub it was 7 pm. I picked out the clothes I was going to wear tomorrow and placed them on the hanger on the back of my bedroom door. After I walked into my office to finish writing up an article I’d been working on. Then started preparing things for the morning. I packed my bag and hung it on the hook by the door. 10 pm already. Well I should get an early night. The dogs joined me on the bed and we fell asleep.

* The Next Day *

I woke up at 6:30 am. Gave the dogs their breakfast and fed Alpha-Beta too. I started to get ready.

‘I need to go to the corner store to buy breakfast’ ,I reminded my self. I dressed myself and did my make up. I left a note on the kitchen counter for the dog sitter/walker letting her know our routine. I said good bye to my pups and locked the door behind me. As soon as I stepped out the door are started walking down the path, raindrops decorated the pavement in front of me. I opened my bright red umbrella to shield me from the speckles falling from the sky. I walked into the corner store shaking out my umbrella and picked up a salad, fruit pot and a drink. Once I had paid I made my way to work. I had arrived and made my way to my desk. There was a card and some flowers in a pretty vase. The card read ‘congratulation on your new home’. I moved them to one side and admired them as my computer was turning on and I took off my coat. The computer had turned on and I was now finishing off the article from last night. *Bzzz* the intercom on my phone sounded. “Y/N can you come into my office please?” My boss asked me. I walked in. “Tomorrow’s guests are 30 seconds to mars and you’re going to interview them. Do you research” she told me. I stood there in shock. “Like I need to do my research. They’re my favorite band” I replied making her laugh. “They’re touring and doing a show near here so we thought we’d bring them in” I giddily clapped my hands. “Thankyooooouuu!!!!” I shouted on my way out the door. I sat back down at my desk and began typing up questions for them to answer. My work friend Lyra came over and asked “Hey whatcha doing?” “Well, guess who is interviewing 30 seconds to mars tomorrow?” I smiled and pointed at me. “No way. They’re your favorite band too, ugh you’re so lucky” She exclaimed. “I know, thanks” I laughed. Ohh boss, I’ll see you at lunch” she pointed then quickly scuttled away. Once again I was back at my computer working on the interview questions and to make sure I had everything, I took my bosses advice and did a little research. I sent the questions to my boss who emailed me back straight away giving me the thumbs up. Lunch time was over with quickly. Lyra and I got to catch up, plus I managed to order my groceries online and organize for them to be delivered for when I got home. Soon after I was back to work. I’d emailed the article I’d been working on off to my boss so she could send it to the editor. Before I knew it it was 5 pm. Time to go home. I walked in and was greeted by my 2 lovely dogs and walked into the kitchen so I could see how Alpha-Beta was getting on. I was so excited for tomorrow I just had to pick out my outfit. It had to be good enough for camera and show a little sex appeal. “I got it” I called out, making the dogs raise their heads to see what was going on. I picked out a pink pant suit paired with a black bralet-crop top kind of thing. I looked the the wardrobe of the guest room where I kept my shoes and bags and found a beautiful pair of multi-colored heels, I loved this pair because I feel like they show off my creative side. I heard the door bell and answered the door. It was the delivery man with the groceries. He helped bring them in, I thanked him and he left. I started cooking dinner, the mouth watering aroma making it’s way around the kitchen. I fed the dogs and sat down for my meal at the table, day dreaming about different scenarios that could happen tomorrow. It was 7:30, I decided to have a shower and wash my hair. I was going to wear my hair straight . So after my shower I brought out my hair dryer and straighteners and got to it.  After I went to bed. I needed an early night in order to look good for tomorrow. 

*The Next Day*

I woke up feeling fresh and excited, I did what would become the normal routine of  feeding the dogs and getting my breakfast. After I made a coffee and took it into the office where my make up table was situated. I decided on a fairly neutral eye and red lips. I put on my rings picked up my bag and left. 

I took my time walking to work, I didn’t want to get all sweaty before I met the band. After my leisurely walk to work I walked into the office where in 2 hours I’d meet the band. This…This is the reason I became a celebrity journalist. I prepared myself and the interview room.  While setting out the snacks on the table I dropped the bowl of grapes on the floor. “Shit” I said to myself. I bent down to pick up the grapes underneath the table that was opposite the door. I was on my hand and knees when I heard a “Wow we’ve got ourselves a show boys” I knew that voice all too well. It was Jared Leto. As I got up I began to feel my cheeks heating up. “Uh, hi I’m Y/N” I said as I got up. I shook all of their hands and offered them a seat on the sofa. We had a 2 hour slot for this room. We had to wait half an hour for the crew to set up the cameras. So in that time we got talking. I offered them a drink and left the room. Once I start walking back in their conversation ceases. “I hope you’re saying good things about me” I laugh. The crew are ready to start the interview. 

“In 3,2,1″. The director says. 

“Hello I am Y/N, Y/L/N and I have 30 seconds of mars with me here. Hello!” they cheered. After half an hour of general questions and chit chat I move onto more personal questions. “So Tomo obviously you’re married” He looked at me and flashed his wedding ring. “But how about you two? Any lucky ladies in your lives yet?”. “I like how you said yet, are you trying to get in on this?” Jared asked. I looked at Shannon who was smiling right at me making me blush. “Well a girl can try right?” I giggled. “So... are you both single?” “Well I am” Shannon piped up “me too” Jared added on. “You’ve heard it here first” I said looking at the camera. “What about you?” Jared asked me. “I am yeah” I said a bit taken aback “Nobody wants this” I joked. “Why not you’re gorgeous?” Shannon complemented me. 

“Yeah beautiful” Jared said backing up his brother. “Wow thanks guys” I’m blushing once again. "Well that's all we have time for thank you Jared, Shannon and Tomo for joining us here and we hope to see you again. "Oh yeah" Jared shouted. "Wahoo" Tomo joined in too. Shannon just sat and smiled at me. . . 

Once the interview had finished they stuck around for a little and while Jared and Tomo were talking Shannon came over to me and asked “So are you really single?” I looked at him then the floor trying to hide the smile on my face. “I am I’ve actually never been on a date before” I glanced up at him once again. He looked a little shocked. “Well we need to change that. We’re here for 3 nights. Let me take you out after our concert tonight please?” My face dropped at his question. I quickly reorganized myself. “Uh yeah, I’d like that. Thank you” He smiled at me. “I’ll pick you up at 10. If you could write down you address and cell phone number that’d be a big help”. I bent over without bending my knees and reached in my bag for my note book and pen. I could feel his eyes on me, more specifically on my ass. I got back up leaned on the table and wrote down my contact information. “I’ll see you later beautiful” He winked and kissed my cheek. ‘Oh my god, I’m going on a date with Shannon Leto, what will I wear?’ I thought. 

CHAPTER 2.

[inkyardpress]

THE GATEKEEPERS EXCERPT

Mallory

7:55 AM

where r u?

 8:11 AM

r u coming??

 8:17 AM

seriously wtf, when will u be here?

 Liam

10:34 AM

Srry

 1

MALLORYGOODMAN

 Seventy-one, seventy-two, seventy-three.

Harder.

Faster.

You can do it, I tell myself. You have to do it.

Seventy-four, seventy-five.

Stop being the kind of lard-ass who let her boyfriend pressure her into scarfing down onion rings.

“They’re so good,” he’d insisted. “Extra salty, really crispy. They’re the perfect balance of light batter and onion, like tempura. The chef brought his A-game to the deep fryer. You’ll be sorry if you don’t at least try one.”

Whenever our squad wants to meet for dinner, I suggest a place with a salad bar. I always eat the same thing—a blend of arugula and romaine, shredded carrots, red cabbage, diced peppers, and celery sticks, tossed in lemon juice, with a side of fat-free ranch dressing. If I’ve been good, I grab a grapefruit or an apple for dessert at home.

Obviously, I wasn’t good last night.

Liam wouldn’t let it go, though. He leaned across the table, doing that baby-feeding, airplane-in-the-hangar move with the onion ring, complete with sound effects. Everyone in the whole restaurant started looking at us. Sure, they’re always looking at us, because Liam’s kind of our school’s Golden Boy, but last night they were seriously staring. The easiest thing was to open up and just eat the stupid, greasy thing. So I chewed and smiled when all I wanted to do was to spit it into my napkin—but I’d never hear the end of it if I did that.

I swear Jasper Gates was ready to search inside my mouth afterward to make sure I’d actually swallowed, like on those cheesy survival game shows where the host verifies contestants downed the whole worm. Jasper was the one who demanded I eat another, because the first one was “too small.” Sitting there, all kicked back and smarmy in his obnoxious plaid shorts and Ray-Bans, I wanted to smack him. Who wears sunglasses inside at night? We’re in Illinois, not LA. And my diet is Jasper’s business how exactly? Do I get on him for the stupid loafers he insists on wearing without socks, even when it’s snowing?

Can you believe he actually wonders why I call him the JasHole?

Ugh, I hate Liam’s friends.

Seventy-six, seventy-seven.

I dig in my heels and try to spring up even more quickly as I run the stadium steps for the third time. My pulse quickens inside my chest.

Okay.

That’s more like it.

My brother Theo and his best friend, Braden, turned me on to running the stairs, something their football coach makes them do first thing in the morning during the season. That way they can spend the afternoon drilling on the field or weight training for their two-a-days. Kids at other schools can’t believe how much our teams practice. They always say this after we’ve beaten them, so you tell me who’s got it right.

One twenty-one. One twenty-two.

Well, most of us believe in all the practice.

Ahem, Liam.

First, he makes me ingest a fatty carb bomb and then he doesn’t even show to run the stairs with me this morning? He claimed he hurt his knee playing ultimate Frisbee after soccer practice yesterday. Last night, the JasHole was all, “You should give it a rest, brah. Don’t want to be a gimp when the season starts. Take it easy.”

Well, guess what, Liam?

Winners walk it off.

Winners play through the pain, brah.

Winners make time to run the stairs, each day, every day, even those days when they know they’ll be up until 2:00 a.m. writing their final AP Italian theme on Il pendolo di Foucault.

I keep going.

I mean, my calves feel like they’re on fire right now, like they’re being poked with burning hot knives, but the discomfort’s just spurring me on.

Go. Run faster.

I make it to the top and sprint back down the steps double-time. I don’t count the stairs on the way down; that’s considered rest.

Rest is for the weak.

Three hundred. Three hundred and one. Three hundred and two.

Move it, Calorie Mallory. Get your fat ass up those steps. Knees up. Knees up to the chest. More. Do more.

I ask myself, Do you think the New Trier Trevians ate onion rings last night? Hell, no. Did the Lake Forest Scouts wolf down fro-yo last week? Doubtful.

Hustle. Now.

I glance at my iWatch. All right, I’m in the zone. I’m at 95 percent of my target heart rate. I’m a finely tuned machine, burning off serious blubber. Keep it up.

Five hundred forty-nine. Five hundred fifty. Five fifty-one.

I’m sweating now, but that’s good because sweat is fat crying for mercy.

I mean, why would Liam slam on the brakes now? Why would he look for an excuse to slack? Our senior year starts Monday.

This is the time to go balls-out.

We haven’t reached the summit. There’s no time to coast. We’re coming up on the hardest part of our twelve-year academic climb—applying to college.

Now is when we show the world what we’re made of.

Now is when we prove we have the right stuff for Princeton’s early decision.

Now is when we lay the groundwork for our senior year.

Liam and I spent the past couple of months honing our skills at our camps, getting in our volunteer hours, and doing our extra coursework so that we’ll to be ready to kill our exams and nab our respective state championships when classes start. Winning those matching Homecoming King and Queen crowns come October wouldn’t hurt, either, because that would show that we’re social as well as athletic and academic.

We’re the full package. We’re hashtag BarbieandKen.

Which is why we have to push ourselves harder right now.

I don’t want to give up. Quitting? Not an option. I remember what happened over the summer with Paulie and Macey, and I feel like I’ve swallowed glass, like I’m all slashed up inside. They had everything...until they decided they didn’t, so they gave up. Stopped fighting. Braden speculates that maybe they both burned so brightly, flaming out was inevitable.

I refuse to accept that.

So I need to be strong. I need to be hard. That’s why I’m not even allowing myself a drink of water until I hit my first one thousand steps.

I give myself a gut-check. Are you tired, Mallory? Do you want to surrender? Yeah? That’s because you’re not reaching your full potential. You’re at a B-minus of effort right now, and that’s an unweighted grade, non-honors track. Your performance doesn’t even merit a state school, let alone Ivy League early decision. What are you going to do, end up somewhere mortifying like the University of Iowa, with all the slackers? NO. You’ve sacrificed for this. You’ve earned this. Claim what’s yours.

I step it up.

I push and pump my arms.

Explode. Off. Each. Step.

I won’t give up.

I can’t flame out.

I harness the energy inside of me.

I go harder and higher.

Senior year starts in three days.

And I will be ready.

 Stephen

12:30 PM

can we walk by again @ 1:00 PM?

Kent

12:31 PM

Stalker 😊  

 2

STEPHENCHO

“So this is your homerun swing?”

I don’t reply.

Kent persists. “Walking back and forth in front of the new girl’s house in the broiling sun ’til she notices you?”

The beads of sweat dotting his upper lip give him the illusion of having a mustache.

Yeah, he wishes.

“Trust in the process,” I assure him. As we approach her house, I slow my pace so drastically, it’s like we’re suddenly a couple of senior citizens mincing along behind our walkers.

“I trusted in the process an hour ago, back before my Chucks were melting into the asphalt.” He points at his black Converse. “Now I just want to strip down to my underwear and lie on an air conditioning vent. I wanna mainline a pony keg of Gatorade.”

I attempt to explain my rationale again. “She’s gonna notice us out here. She’s gonna notice us and then she’s gonna invite us in, at which point we’re gonna be charming and shit and it’ll all happen from there,” I say. “My plan is foolproof.”

Kent tugs at his vintage Run-D.M.C. Adidas T-shirt, which is now drenched in perspiration and clinging to his narrow frame like a second skin.

“Please. Your ‘plan’ is the opposite of foolproof.” Kent makes air quotes with his fingertips when he says the word plan. “This is the worst ‘plan’ in the history of ‘plans.’ If this ‘plan’ were in World War II, this would be your Stalingrad. PS, you’re the Germans losing 330,000 men in this scenario, not the Soviet resistance. Pretty sure MENSA’s revoking your membership over said ‘plan.’”

Kent’s probably right, but I refuse to admit it. See, I’m so desperate to meet this girl that I don’t even care. While it sounds premature, I have a good feeling about her and I can already tell she’s different in all the right ways. (I’m not psychic. My mom had the 411 long before the first moving truck arrived. She’s not only on the Homeowners’ Association but she’s also the Realtor who listed the house.)

I’ve been thinking about this girl ever since I heard she existed. Scoop is, the family’s here from London and the mom’s writing some book about the suburbs. Maybe one of those coffee-table books, wide and thick, with as many pictures as words? North Shore makes total sense because nowhere is more suburban than here.

I’m serious—we should be listed in Wikipedia under “suburbs” because this town elevates the suburbs game to a whole new level. Peace and quiet? Check. Amazing school system? Check. Lots of natural beauty and green space? Check. Nonexistent crime stats? Check.

Beyond that, North Shore sets rules on how things should look. Image is everything up here. For example, like every other suburban town, we have a McDonald’s. However, there are no golden arches out front of ours, ’cause someone decided that would be tacky. Instead, there’s a small, tasteful wooden sign posted amid a bunch of wild roses. Also, the restaurant’s housed in a big green Shaker-style barn, with columns and white-paned windows.

It’s weird.

The town’s as strict with home standards as it is with businesses. Like, no one’s allowed to chop down trees on their own property without a permit, so every home is surrounded by lots of old-growth oaks. Most of the houses, especially those close to the lake like ours, sit on two or three acres. (Ask me how much this sucked when we used to trick or treat. We wanted candy, not cardio.)

Basically, North Shore’s nothing but big ol’ houses on huge green lawns, yogurt shops, and fancy, useless designer boutiques. I hate having go all the way up to Gurnee or Libertyville to buy comic books, yet there’s three places downtown to pick up a two-hundred-dollar sweater for your purse dog. I’d be all, Who wants that stuff?

Except I know at least ten people who would.

Anyway, the new family bought the Barat house, which is why I feel conflicted about being excited that they’re here. I hadn’t talked to Paulie much since junior high, or hung out with him since grade school, but it’s still really sad. My mom, who’s usually totally in the know, isn’t 100 percent sure where the Barats went. Their attorneys handled the sale because the family hauled ass out of North Shore ASAFP.

I can’t blame them.

The new girl’s dad is this world-famous, super-eccentric British artist with a man-bun. I looked up a lot of his stuff online. He’s always doing these avant-garde art installations, often so bizarre they end up on the news. I read a listicle on BuzzFeed about him. The piece that stuck out most was his exhibit in Burundi, a country where something like 75 percent of all the residents are undernourished. The guy built a replica of McDonald’s golden arches out of bags of liposuctioned fat as a statement about global inequality.

What did that even smell like once the sun hit it?

(FYI, his piece was not shaped like a Shaker-style barn.)

My point is, no one’s like that here in North Shore; no one has that kind of social conscience.

No one’s super-eccentric.

No dads have man-buns, that’s for damn sure.

The girl’s name is Simone and she’s my age and on her Instagram, she’s smokin’ hot, but not in a fake, plastic-y way like everyone else in this town. Maybe that’s because her mom was a famous model. Simone’s got this long, coffee-colored wavy hair that’s shaved on one side and she kind of dresses like a vocalist from a ’70s rock group. The times I’ve spied her from the street, she’s been wearing lots of scarves and bangles and other cool stuff that definitely does not come from J. Crew.

Simone has a casual elegance, like a Disney princess who doesn’t know what she is because an evil queen gave her amnesia and forced her to live in the forest. She strikes me as worldly and wise and chill, deep and interesting in a way that all the brittle future sorority girls in my school are not. She definitely doesn’t seem like the type of girl who’d eviscerate you for the cardinal sin of asking her to a middle school mixer, leaving you shamefaced and speechless in the middle of the cafeteria, too terrified to ever try again.

Kent says no one could have possibly have drawn these opinions, nobody could have come up with all these positive character traits by simply walking past her house.

I maintain that he couldn’t because he has no imagination; he’s too linear in his thinking. That’s also why I always beat him at chess.

I wouldn’t expect him to understand my fascination with Simone. He’s been obsessed with this generic blonde goddess named Mallory since grade school. I bet Mallory wouldn’t even bother to spit on him if he were on fire, but I keep that to myself. Kent soldiers on in his relentless pursuit, hope springing eternal. He kind of reminds me of a dog chasing a car when it comes to Mallory—he’s never going to catch the vehicle and he’d have no clue what to do with it if he did, but damned if he ever stops running behind it.

While he might whine about stalking Simone, he’s helping me anyway.

“There’s no fluid left in me—I sweated it all out. I’m literally leeching salt at this point,” Kent complains. He swipes his forehead and rubs his fingers against his palm. I hear the grit when he scrapes his hand against itself but pretend I don’t.

He says, “Seriously, bro, there’s a crust on my brow. Come on, Stephen... It’s over. Give it up. Let’s head to the beach. I wanna go walk directly into the lake, like, shoes and all, I don’t even care.”

I need to admit defeat.

And yet...

��One more pass?” I want this to sound like a command, a marching order, but my words come out more plaintive than planned.

He narrows his eyes and stares me down for a solid thirty seconds. “You suck.”

I guess plaintive worked.

We turn at the corner for our final walk-by when we see her garage door opening in the distance. Like Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, Simone comes into focus from the darkness of the garage, her form slowly revealed as the door inches upward, only instead of being surrounded by angels while naked astride a clamshell (my preference), she’s standing in front of a mountain of cardboard, buttressed by recycling bins.

She is the embodiment of divine love, august gold, wreathed and beautiful, clad in the heavenly raiment of a baggy, tie-dyed overall dress.

Oh, yes. She will be mine.

“You said that out loud, dude,” Kent tells me. “You may want to work on keeping your internal monologue, you know, internal.”

Simone spots us and waves.

“Check it out, she’s waving!” Kent says, shielding his eyes with his hand as he squints down the long, curved, sun-drenched driveway. Every house in our ’hood is set back from the curb no less than one-tenth of a mile. (Again, this blew at Halloween. Batman shouldn’t have to wear gym shoes.)

Kent continues, “No, that’s not a wave. She’s gesturing for us to come up to her garage. Yes! Score! You know, I doubted you, Cho. I did. Thought we were wasting our time, but you proved me wrong. Get up there and claim your woman. ’Bout time something good happened around here.” He gives me a small push in her direction.

“Walk faster,” I hiss, my heart beginning to race like a hamster on a wheel. “Actually, run.”

Kent comes to a dead stop. “Aw, hell no. Not this again. I am not walking faster and I’m sure as shit not running. I did not just sweat out half my body weight going back and forth for you to wuss out when you finally get your chance to talk to her. You wanted her to see you? Mission accomplished. Get your ass up there and have a conversation. ’Cause I’m done here. We have less than a week left before school starts and the last thing I wanna do is stand in the blazing hot street for one more second. Now, I’m going for a swim and you’re gonna go work your magic. Text you later.”

He walks toward the wooded path that leads to the residents-only beach on Lake Michigan a couple of blocks away while I stand frozen by her mailbox.

I want to talk to her. I do.

I want to work my magic.

I want to so badly...but I just can’t.

Maybe Kent’s not the dog who’s caught the car. Maybe it’s me.

I open my mouth to try to explain but the words won’t come out.

Kent’s a whole house away when he glances over his shoulder. He sees that I haven’t moved. He looks at a bemused Simone—she’s still midwave—and then at me. With a small shake of his head, he jogs back over. He’s out of breath by the time he reaches me.

Grudgingly, Kent says, “I could probably be your wingman for a few more minutes.” Relief washes over me and I’m able to move again. We start walking up the drive together.

He asks, “How is it that you’re both the smartest and the dumbest guy in our school?”

I shrug.

If I knew, then I’d tell him.

 3

KENTMATHERS

“You are coming across as a fucking lunatic right now, you hear me?”

Stephen won’t look at me.

I tell him, “You don’t seem like someone walking up to introduce himself to a girl he’s been crushing on, oh, no. You look like someone who wants to make an ottoman out of her skin. Take a deep breath and chill.”

I’m trying to not sound as frustrated as I feel...and totally failing.

I don’t know how Stephen always ropes me into his schemes, but here we are. A-fucking-gain. All I want to do is go to the beach and catch some sun so that I don’t look like I spent the summer walking to and from the dorms at Physics Camp (which I did). I mean, I can live with being short and I’ve made peace with the fact that I’m still carded for PG-13 movies, but I draw the line at a farmer’s tan. One good afternoon on the sand; that’s all I need.

Yet am I chillin’ on the shores of Lake Michigan gettin’ my bronze on?

No.

Instead, I’m on another one of Mr. Cho’s Wild Rides and I’m over it.

Stephen’s always all about this false bravado, Mr. I Have a Plan and Mr. I Will Make It So. He’s such a nerd that he actually draws what he envisions. I mean, he storyboards out the whole damn thing. Because he’s so good at picturing himself Making It So with the Plan He Has, we reach the point where everything clicks and he actually could achieve his goal but then he chickens out and blows everything.

He had one job today, which was to go up and say hey to the new girl, and he can’t even do that on his own.

I want to help him, I do, but being his keeper is getting old. We’ve been locked in this wingman dance since we met in preschool. This is his pattern. Today reminds me of when we used to go to the waterpark in the Wisconsin Dells as kids. The whole school year, he’d boast about jumping off the high dive and all the flips and somersaults he’d do, comparing himself to Sammy Lee, the first Asian American to win Olympic gold in platform diving. How he’d be a better diver than anyone else at the pool because he understood aerodynamics and would use that to his benefit. I have no doubt that’s true. Stephen’s getting early acceptance to MIT, count on that. Dude’s got a brain the size of Montana.

But then he’d climb up, tiptoe to the edge of the board, look at the water and freak the fuck out.

Everyone would have to scramble off the ladder so that he could climb down. He’d talk a huge game but couldn’t follow through, could never commit. He didn’t dive off the big board, not once. He had zero confidence in his execution, regardless of having it perfect on paper.

His problem is, he builds all this stuff up in his head. Thinking about whatever he wants to do ends up being so much scarier than the act itself that it cripples him. The only reason he ever made it down the giant slide at the park is that I went in tandem with him.

I can only say, “Just do it” so many times.

I mean, I’m not a goddamned Nike T-shirt.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s great at what he knows. He’s the strongest competitor on our Physics Olympics team. But the second there’s not a set answer to a question or he encounters an untrodden path, he falls apart.

The bitch of it is, I bet he has a chance with this girl. At a cursory glance—and given the full, rich backstory Stephen’s already assigned Simone, provided it’s true—she could be a match. I mean, I spend all day, every day with him, so I know he’s interesting. He has to be, for me to put up with all his bullshit. He can fascinate me and I’m not easily entertained. When he feels comfortable, he’ll talk at length about any subject, and he’s not like those boring-ass meatheads at school who are All Sports, 24/7.

At the very least, Stephen could be the first guy to ask her out here in North Shore. They don’t have to fall in love; maybe they could be great buds. Maybe no end zone, just friend zone? At least he’d have tried to score, you know? But if I weren’t here walking him down the long-ass driveway, telling him to not look like a goddamned serial killer, even that would have no chance of happening.

I don’t want to be all, He holds me back! because that’s a shitty thing to say about my best friend.

Although sometimes I think about where I’d be if we hadn’t met, if my parents had bought that smaller house in Kenilworth and not the one a few miles up the road in North Shore. Then he’d be my archrival at the Physics Olympics and not my closest companion.

Would that be so bad, I wonder?

Would we push each other toward greatness, his Tesla to my Edison?

Guess we’ll never know.

The closer we come to the garage, the more Stephen slows, and I feel like I’m dragging a reluctant mule to market.

Ridiculous. 

On second thought, I wonder if Stephen’s just freaked out about this being the Barats’ old house. Didn’t happen here, but there’s still kind of a bad vibe, you know? We hung out with Paulie all the time when we were little. But Stephen and I stopped running around with Paulie around the time that friendships solidify more because of shared interests and less due to geographical proximity.

Neither of us ever fought with Paulie, never had a falling-out or anything. We just went in different directions. It happens, you know? God, though, I felt so bad for everyone in his family, especially his little sister, Anna. How do you even deal when you’re twelve?

Stephen took it extrahard. He was fixated on the whole thing, to the point that I was secretly kinda glad about going to a different camp than him over the summer.

I thought he was moving on, but what if he’s not? Maybe that’s why he’s suddenly panicky about his plan working. Maybe he’s freaked out about seeing the inside of Paulie’s house again.

When we’re about ten feet away from Simone, I get my first good look at her. Beyond her mountain of dark hair, I notice her eyes, which are a warm amber color. Through Stephen’s extensive social media stalking, he found out that her grandfather’s from India. But for being part Indian, her skin’s surprisingly pale and she’s covered in freckles. She’s cute in a messy, hipster way, except she doesn’t give off a pretentious vibe. She strikes me as the kind of girl who’d forget she’d stuck a paintbrush behind her ear

While she may not be my type, I see what intrigues Stephen. She’s about the first girl up here who doesn’t come across as a miniature version of all our mothers, with sculpted triceps, blown-straight hair, and a splashy floral tank dress.

(Is it weird/kind of oedipal that I find that combination oddly erotic? Wait, don’t answer that.)

“Cheers!” she says. I don’t hear much of a British accent. Huh. Thought she was from England? “We have a right mess going here. Look at this rubbish—we’re practically drowning in it! Can you please tell me when and how they collect the wheelie bins?”

I can’t help it, I start laughing at her turn of phrase while Stephen shoots me a murderous look, I mean, really full of poison. I get a hold of myself, explaining, “Sorry. That sounded exactly like something Mary Poppins would say. By the way, hi, I’m Kent Mathers.”

She holds out her hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Mary P.”

Stephen bleats, “I thought you were Simone!”

I want to face-palm out of secondhand embarrassment but I quickly interject with a subject change to afford him some dignity. “So, the garbage cans and recycling bins are picked up on our street on Tuesdays and Fridays. Just leave them by your garage and a guy from Streets and Sanitation will pull up to the side of your house in a little golf cart.”

“That’s brilliant!” she exclaims.

“Nothing but the best for North Shore,” I say.

“A bit fancy here, isn’t it?” she replies, which is an understatement in the same way that saying that the ocean’s fairly sizable or a Maserati’s kind of a zippy ride. The average home around here has six bedrooms and just as many baths. And everyone renovates their kitchen every five years. God forbid we keep our almond milk in a fridge from 2010.

Simone tells us, “My friend Cordelia says my strategy for America should be finding the biggest bitch in school and immediately taking her down. Is she right?”

“Hmm,” I reply, pretending to muse. “That’s less ‘high school’ and more ‘prison.’ You should probably Netflix Glee and also Orange Is the New Black.”

“I shall make a mental note. I already feel you’re both full of helpful advice, you possibly more than him,” she says with a grin in Stephen’s direction, “so I insist you come inside for something cold to drink before you melt on the spot.”

Even though she’s teasing, I can see Stephen blanch and yet again I feel like I’ve gotta rescue him.

“Okay, very important to discuss before we come in and definitely will determine if we’re gonna be friends,” I say, referencing the one subject that will absolutely, positively draw Stephen out of his shell and into the conversation. “Are you Biggie or are you Tupac?”

She tilts her head to the side. “As in...Smalls and Shakur?”

“Uh-huh. As in the most violent and hotly contested rap rivalry from the mid ’90s.”

She crosses her arms over her chest and looks thoughtful. “When my parents were our age, they said they could immediately identify kindred spirits by scanning their vinyl/cassette/CD collections, but now that music’s digital, it’s impossible to walk into someone’s home and assess their tastes. Kind of a shame, really.”

“You’re dodging the question,” I say.

“Not a dodge, just providing context. Honestly, my musical proclivities are profoundly eclectic. I listen to everything from opera to Swedish death metal depending on my mood.”

I raise an eyebrow. “There you go, dodging again. This gonna be a thing with you?”

She makes an X mark over her heart. “No, promise, won’t be a thing.”

“Then what’s your answer? Or did you need to step into your car first to collect your thoughts?” She seems confused as I peer around the four-car garage. I clarify, “You do drive a Dodge, right?”

Simone holds up her hands in the universal stop symbol and I notice she’s wearing dozens of funky bracelets. Do they get in the way in the bathroom?

(Is that a strange thing to wonder?)

“Okay, okay. Point taken. Hmm... Who do I prefer? Well, both artists had such an influence on modern hip-hop that to choose one over the other would be like deciding between peanut butter and chocolate. Both are perfect, for different reasons.”

My suddenly mute friend Stephen avoids eye contact and traces circles on the floor with the tip of his sneaker. Some days it’s like I want to take video of him so he can see how he comes across. Bro, give me something to work with here.

(I should storyboard that shit out for him.)

I persist, “Oh, you must be into baseball because clearly you root for the Dodgers. Listen, anyone who’s familiar with the genre has an opinion. Can you like them both? Absolutely. But you have to prefer one over the other. So who’s it gonna be—Biggie or Tupac?”

“I feel like there’s a lot of hidden weight in this question,” she says, tucking a wild strand of dark hair back into her scruffy topknot.

“There is,” I reply. In my peripheral vision, I see Stephen sizing up all the cardboard. Ten bucks says he’s mentally drawing himself inside a fort made of boxes.

Simone tucks her thumbs into her dress pockets and leans back on her heels. “You understand my reticence, what with being new and all.”

“I do.”

“I clearly run the risk of alienating one of you, potentially both.”

I nod. “Distinct possibility.”

“One that I fear.”

“Right now, your choice is the Schrödinger’s cat of opinions. At this moment, you say you prefer both Biggie and Tupac but that can’t be. It’s simply not the natural state. You have to be one or the other. We need to open this box and find out for sure.”

I like her.

I don’t like her like her but she seems fun, seems like she’d be a fine addition to our crew. Let’s be honest, it’s a fairly exclusive crew, as Stephen and I aren’t exactly the most popular kids in school. We’re not hated, we’re just not even...considered, you know? Adding an interesting person to our social circle could only make our senior year better. We used to be friends with everyone growing up, but people started to splinter four or five years ago, forming their own cliques, and now Stephen and I are way too insular. We’re a party of two, which is kind of depressing.

Maybe if we tried a little harder, we’d be invited to stuff. We’d be welcomed back into the fold, reintroduced into NSHS’s social scene. (People are always crying about all the drinking and the drug use among high school students up here, but I’ll be damned if I’ve ever even seen any.)

However, Simone’s not going to want to be around me and my fascinating friend Stephen if he can’t find a way to open his goddamned mouth and interact.

“Then, my answer is... Me Against the World,” she says, naming off a Tupac album.

Stephen breaks into a massive smile and fist bumps Simone, the thrill of this unexpected victory infusing him with a turbocharge of confidence. “I’m Stephen, Stephen Cho. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

I exhale.

He may just be okay after all.

 WANT MORE? ADD IT TO YOUR GOODREADS AND ORDER IT TODAY!

[alwaysaprille]

I'm sort of torn on Raven's "She saved us again"? It's like from a character standpoint, I get it. Their friend just "died", so of course they would elevate her. But it still sort of feels like the writers hitting me over the head with "Clarke is THE hero always". When the reality is that Raven has been the one to save their asses in basically every finale. I don't know, it just felt sort of eye-rolly and like JRoth's "Clarke single-handedly took down the mountain" during S2 hiatus.

Alright, Nonny. Let’s get down to business (to defeat….the Huns!).

The actual reality is that there has never been ONE hero in ANY season and no this isn’t me trying to downplay Raven to boost up Clarke because I “hate WOC”. Let me explain the Bravenlarke of it all:

We talk about the Core Four all the time, but in reality the actual core of our show rests on Bellamy, Clarke and Raven (Octavia is usually included in the Core Four, but for the most part her story is almost always separate from the main cast until the very end of the Season). Let’s begin our exploration with Season 1:

We know how the Season 1 finale ends, with the Delinquents closing the Dropship door and “blasting off”, but who actually made it happen? Lots of us would say Raven because, well…she is the genius, but when did the actual idea come into play?

Clarke: “It can’t be that simple. You said there’s fuel in those rockets, right?”

Raven: “Enough to build 100 bombs. I also said we’ve got no gunpowder left.”

Clarke: “I don’t want to build a bomb. I want to blast off.”

Raven: “Draw them in close. Fire the rockets. A ring of fire.”

Bellamy: “Barbecued grounders. I like it.” 

Finn: “Will it work?”

Raven: “The wiring’s a mess down there, but yeah. You give me enough time, I’ll cook them real good.”Clarke has the idea. If she’d never had the idea would they ever have been able to stop the Grounders?

Bellamy runs the physical side of things as the leader of the gunners to get Raven the time she needs to wire up the Dropship. 

Raven implements the idea by walking Clarke through the steps (because she is too wounded to do it herself). Jasper does have to complete the job because Raven has passed out, but Raven does most of the setup. 

The Season 1 finale was a 3 part save. It’s not Raven who saves their asses, it’s all three of them.

On to Season 2:

The plan to take down the Mountain once again utilized Bravenlarke (with some Monty actually). This might have been harder to recognize because it happened over the course of several episodes. The plan goes into action in 2x09 when Clarke reverses her original refusal to let Bellamy go into the Mountain and decides “It’s worth the risk”, although at the time, we don’t see it that way:

Bellamy: “We need to do this now. You’ve got the alliance. Now is the time to use it.”

Clarke: “First, we need an inside man. You were right. Without someone on the inside to lower their defenses, turn off the acid fog, an army is useless. You should go.”

Bellamy: “I thought you hated that plan, that I would get myself killed.”

Clarke: “I was being weak. It’s worth the risk. My map of Mount Weather. Find a way to get on that radio and talk to us. Good luck.”

The idea to shut down the Acid Fog is initially Clarke’s, but is accomplished with help from Raven(Wick) and Bellamy in 2x14:

Raven: “Wait. Corrosion. The protective oxide film would have to be restored in tanks this old. They’d need to be cleaned.”

Wick: “And neutralized. Bellamy, go to that subdirectory. See if there’s anything there that says “passivation."”

Bellamy: “Ok. I’m on it. Got it. Says, uh, "aqueous sodium hydroxide bath."”

Wick: “That’s a base. That’ll neutralize the acid. Select that.”

Bellamy: “It’s doing something.”

Raven: “You should be able to hear the pump.”

 Bellamy: “I can hear them. Needle’s moving. pH is rising. It’s working.  Passivation success.”

 Raven and Wick: “Yes!”

As we know, the Mountain discovers the tampering and reverse the Passivation so Bellamy winds up having to blow up the acid, but the initial plan was Clarke’s idea, Bellamy doing the work, Raven(and Wick) walking Bellamy through implementing the idea. 

In the end, the final save actually comes down to Bellamy, Clarke and Monty (because Raven is being harvested). I actually think Monty temporarily replacing Raven in the Season 2 finale is because they were originally going to develop Wicken in such a way that they needed the extra development that the harvesting scene gave them.

Clarke: “Monty, can you do it? Can you irradiate the level?”

Monty: “I can do it.”

A bit later:Clarke: “Why are you stopping?”

Monty: “Because I did it. All we have to do… is pull this. Hatches and vents will open, and the scrubbers reverse, pulling in outside air”

Bellamy: “He’s gonna blow the door. Clarke, we’re out of time.”

Bellamy: “My sister. My responsibility.”

Clarke: “I have to save them.”

Bellamy: “Together.”

So again, a 3 part save, not just Raven.

Clarke has the idea to irradiate the Mountain and pulls the lever.

Bellamy spends the Season as the inside man, disables the acid fog and helps pull the lever.

Monty implements the idea by setting up the Mountain for irradiation. 

Let’s discuss Season 3:

The Season 3 save was, again, a Bravenlarke combo. Let’s break down why:

Clarke: “Good. Then we have time.”

Murphy: “What we don't have is a way down.”

Bellamy: “Time for what?”

Clarke: “An Ascension ceremony.”

Murphy:  “Ascension? You just said Ontari wasn't an option. Besides, she's still chipped, and we no longer have an EMP.”

 Clarke: “We're not putting the Flame in Ontari's head. We're putting it in mine.”

Bellamy: “Clarke, that thing killed Emerson in seconds, liquefied his brain.”

Clarke: “Emerson wasn't connected to a Nightblood.”

 Pike: “Transfusion?”

Clarke: “Not exactly.”

Abby: “Connected like Mount Weather.”

Clarke: “Yes. Everything we need is in your med kit”

Abby:.”No. It's too dangerous, and there are too many variables.”

Clarke: “But no options.”

Then, after Clarke has taken the Flame:

Bellamy: “I believe you.”

Abby: “Do you even know what you're looking for?”

Clarke: “I'll know when I find it.”

Abby: “May we meet again.”

Clarke: “We will.”

Bellamy: “We'll keep you safe.”

And, in the City of Light:

It’s Raven who reveals the door to the kill switch and, when Clarke doesn’t open it immediately, paints her raven across it. 

So once again, this is not just Raven at work

Clarke has the idea to take the Flame herself (and even the how-Mt. Weather blood recycling), and taking the Flame is how she knows she needs to take the Chip.

Bellamy leads the guard for Clarke’s physical form, giving her time to complete her mission, with Abby as the last line of defense.

Raven uses her ALIE super brain to read the code, discover that Clarke is inside the City of Light, where she is and that she needs help, then provides that help to her. 

And we’re on to our latest Season, 4! And, as I’m sure you’ve picked up on the pattern, Bravenlarke is back at it again, we arrive in 4x12 to:

Bellamy: “Clarke, unless I am missing something, there is no other way for all of us to survive.”

Clarke: “What if there is?”

Skip forward to the Space Squad Seven (Plus Clarke) arriving on Science Island:

Raven: “But there’s no time to go back.”

Clarke: “We’re not going back. We’re going up.”

Murphy: “Ah, don’t look so surprised. It was all your idea to begin with.” (Speaking of Raven’s desire to commit suicide by space, however Clarke is still the person who has the idea to actually live on the Ring).

Raven: “Space? We don’t have enough fuel to get down.”

Harper: “Sounds like a 5-year problem to me.”

Raven: “You’re (said to Clarke) talking about the Ring.”

Bellamy: “Seems like a shame to let a good rocket go to waste.”

Raven: “How do we live?”

Clarke: “They left a water reclamator up there and we know that Go-Sci has an algae farm. We just get those two things up and running and we have food and water.”

Murphy: “Algae salads and recycle urine. Sign me up.”

Emori: “Better than dying.”

Murphy: “Yeah, you say that now.”

Raven: “All right. Slow down. Breathing’s important, too. What’s the plan for oxygen?”

Monty: “Based on what Murphy says about the Lighthouse Bunker, I’m guessing-make that praying-there’s an oxygenator there. We take it with us. You hook it up. Bob’s your uncle.”

Raven: “You’re an engineer, Monty. You do know there’s about a thousand things wrong with that plan, right?”

Monty: “Yes, and every one of them kills us. Of course, staying here will kill us, too, so-”

Bellamy: “Raven, we need you to get us off the ground before the death wave hits. What do you say? Can you do it?”

Raven: “What do I say? I say that death wave can kiss my ass.”

Clarke: “Good. It’s settled then. We’re going back to the Ark.”

Now we’re going to finish this bit of evidence up with 4x13, I’m not going to pull quotes on this one, because the finale should be fresh in our minds as it wasn’t even two weeks ago, I’m just going to do the wrap up:

Clarke has the idea to return to space and even figures out how they’ll supply themselves with food and water once they make it up there and makes sure that the uplink is ready for the rocket when they arrive. 

Bellamy is responsible for inspiring the masses (Raven and Echo specifically this episode) and ultimately making the hard call and choosing to close the door on Clarke instead of waiting. 

Raven uses her non-ALIE powered but still super brain to figure out how to turn a 2-seater into an 8-seater, run the flight check, pilot them to the ring and get them into the hanger bay. 

So when Raven says “She saved us again.” She’s not wrong. If Clarke had not had the idea to go to Space in the first place, everyone except for her would have died. If she hadn’t chosen to make the sacrifice and stay behind, physically moving that satellite dish to make sure the Ark was up, the ones who did manage to make it into space would have died.

Consistently, every Season, the finale save has always been a combination of Head (Clarke), Heart (Bellamy) and Guts (Raven) saving the day, but so many of y’all would rather look at it as Clarke being elevated, or a fandom being racist against a WOC (Raven), or (if you’re a Br/ven) the Bellarke fandom being unable to accept Br/ven as a romantic pairing without putting Clarke in it as well, when Bravenlarke is truly a platonic ship, lmao. 

I’d bet you anything that in Season 5, Bravenlarke team work is once again what saves the day (even though 6 years and space has changed their relationship). 

[crystarlet]

SPRANG BREAK

Hello, fellow interweb perusers! It seems that I have been away for a long while, and I am sorry. I have just been a bit busy and lazy at the same time, but either way, I am here to catch y’all up on my whereabouts.

Juj and I took the bus and then the train to Bakersfield Saturday (of break), but we missed the train after taking a detour to McDonalds, so we enjoyed our fast food at the station while we waited for the next train. It was a tad annoying since every other train seemed to be delayed, but the one we missed was the only one on time. El colmo, no? 

Anyhow, after we got home, we pretty much went to bed since we were to be up early the next morning. 

Sunday: Day 1

We went to mass and this lil local restaurant called the Village Grill, and let me tell you it was pretty good. I had some bomb diggity breakfast and couldn;t even finish my pancakes. The little decorations on the inside of the place kinda clashed with each other, but over all, it was quaint. 

After eating, we went to drive around the town and passed by Juj’s high school while we waited for our nail appointment. Your girls got treated. #queensamiright #justkiddingthanksjujandhermom 

Anyhow, after all that we went to this cute little strawberry stand and got some fresh berries to prepare for dinner. Once we got home, Juju and I helped cut strawberries and lettuce. We had mac n’ cheese - my fav - with strawberry salad with poppy seed dressing, and it was sooo good. Apparently, the jujster has asked for that exact meal for the past like 6 birthdays. Cray. But it was pretty delish. After dinner, we went over to Juju’s dad’s and I got to meet her brothers and the scoobs aka scout aka a gazzillion other things. Once we got home, we treated ourselves to some Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and root beer floats (also my fav). 

Monday: Day 2

So shrek is one of m fav movies, and once I woke up I felt like donkey where he goes “and in the morning, I’m makin’ WAFFLES!”

We didn’t actually make waffles, but I made a breakfast sandwich, reminiscent of my days eating Late Nite, and a licuado. Juj and I ate a chill breakfast while watching Pirates of the Carribbean before getting ready to go to her brother’s b-day get together. 

We ate and hung out with her fam until we got back and watched Que Culpa Tiene el Nino which Juju apparently did not approve of - except for Ricardo Abarca, but we all know he’s a slice of heaven on earth.

Tuesday: Day 3

We had the same routine for Tuesday except we watched the Waterboy in the morning. I think Juj and I can now bond over the whole, “THAT ____ IS THE DEVIL”. It’s pretty much applicable to anything in life. 

Examples:

1. Chemistry is... THE DEVIL.

2. Waking up early is... THE DEVIL.

3. Yo Mama is... THE DEVIL.

Later on that night, we went out to Buck Owen’s Crystal Palace for some good food and line dancing. I didn’t line dance any really bc I was very out of practice and felt like a failure. Next time though folks, catch me on the dance floor how bout that? Anyway, Juj and I got to indulge in some country fried chicken, always a plus, and I got some mac and cheese and mashed potatoes, can I say winner winner chicken dinner?

Wednesday: Day 4

Wednesday was a good day, as I was introduced to two of Bakersfield’s finest aka ROSEMARY’S and WOOLGROWERS!

Today Juj and I woke up pretty late, so we decided to hold off on the whole making breakfast thing. BUT your girl ate some garlic bread for breakfast bc she wakes up starving and you know what’s not to love about carbs? Afterward, Juj and I got ready to go have lunch with her friends from high school (one of which goes to Stanny with us!) at Rosemary’s, a cute lil old fashioned ice cream shop which is apparently one of Bakersfield’s signature establishments (aka its been there a while and its a local fav). I - and almost everyone at the table - has a grilled cheese, which I must say was good, but not as good as I was hoping. However, I will say that all was remedied by the brownie ice cream Sunday. c;

Just when you thought we couldn’t gorge ourselves with more food, well... we did. Juj’s  mom had a birthday coming up, and a family friend had crafted a plan to get some friends and family together for a surprise birthday dinner while the Jujers was in town. It was my first time having Basque food, and I loved it. I love to eat a variety of food, and a lot, so the small but plentiful courses was a great option. It started out with some cabbage soup with beans followed by salad, vegetables, spaghetti, fries, and then a main dish (I got shrimp bc yum). I was stuffed by the end of the night, and I think it was a great way to say bye to Bakersfield. 

Thursday: Day 5

Not that Juju and her family weren’t great (because Bakersfield was GREAT), but I was ready to go to USC and get to LA. I had never been so SoCal, so I was ready to explore and venture like the wilderness explorer I am. 

Juju’s dad kindly drove us all the way down to LA on Thursday morning, and then we met our ~ Splash Ambassadors!~ from USC, Albert and Hardik. They sat down and talked to Juj and I for a while about what they do on campus while we waited for my homie G ~Ariel~ (throws up these... arms for a hug) to fly in, and they were super chill. 

Once Ariel got to USC we had some food and got our butts down to D I S N E Y L A N D. It was my first time going there too, so you know I had to do all the required first time shenanigans like get mouse ears and take pics in front of the castle. Juju also made a list of “must have” foods to eat there like “Dole-whips” which are pineapple sorbet like ice cream things - very delicious - mint juleps (mint lemonade) and Mickey beignets (pretty much Mickey donuts). 

We did pretty well when it came to rides. We went on 11 rides over the course of 9 hours - which include the time we spent eating - so really I would say we damn well averaged more than a ride an hour.. pretty good for Disneyland (did I mention I am the most impatient person in the world when it comes to long lines? I swear I die on the inside). On our last ride, though, we say Ariana Grande and Kendall Jenner! It was pretty dope. I was low key freaking out, and I really honest to the lord baby Jesus did not think I was one of those people. Our day at Disney went smoothly, and my girls Ariel and Juj feel asleep on the Uber back home <3

Friday: Day 6

The next day, we woke up kinda late - recovering from the wild experiences of the night before if you know what I mean (; - so we wanted to get a quick breakfast before going out for the day. We decided to get bfast at a food truck right outside the apartment, and it was really quite good. I got to have something similar to a Manzanita so I was happyyyyyyyy. 

Afterward, we took an uber to the beach! It was my first time seeing the ocean and sand simultaneously, and I expected it to be warmer than it was to be honest. The water was freezing, but it was certainly a delightful surprise each time the water washed over my feet. Ariel, Juj, and I lied on the sand for a great deal - Ariel and I pretty much buried ourselves in sand to keep warm - and then we explored the beach and found “muscle beach”. We stayed on a bench for a while just “people watching” bc there are some pretty incredible specimens on this planet I kid you not. Afterward, we got an ice cream sunday to share and a funnel cake before heading back to USC. 

That night, we pretty much just helped with logistics, but we got to know the whole group better later that night in a relaxed game of cards against humanity.

Saturday: Day 7

Ah, the day of Splash SC! After a morning of setting up and checking in students, we got to chill out and eat come yummy fake chinese food and indulge in Sprinkles cupcakes (btw Sprinkles is some bougie ass cupcake place and they have vending machines. Expensive but yummy). After splash was over, SC was having their Spring fest and Juj, Ariel, and I got to head over and have fun before leaving for Stanford later that night. We got some cool pics, free shirts, free make-up, and best of all, free friendship.

And that’s a wrap of “SPRANG BREAK 2K17″ folks! A big thanks and everlasting gratitude to Juju (I appreciate you Juj) and her family for having me.