#I need him to stay safe and write novels because his attention to detail makes my mouth drop every time

[yellow-kudzu]

This guy fucks hard I know it

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Title: The Perfume Murders

Author: Patrick Symmons

Rating: 2/5 stars

This has some really interesting elements, which include:

A bizarre, grotesquely overlong story in which very little happens. We open with this woman named Mina Harker waking up to her husband absent-mindedly drinking his own blood.

In the first chapter, we get a good deal of Mina's internal narration. This is a refreshing and original (and perhaps very unusual?) move, because this kind of narration is normally absent from this sort of story: we often get a sense of the characters from other people's words, but never first-person words from the main character herself. I was interested to see how this would work, and the answer is very well. The voice is clear, consistent, and unpretentious, the sentences are short, the prose is tight, and there is little padding between the story's real events and the words we read about them. What this all adds up to is an impression of the character Mina as someone who is (in a way, at least) like us, with the exact same kinds of quirks and anxieties that we can easily imagine her feeling.

In the second chapter, we get the first murder (by a vampire), and from then on we get no murders for several pages, only the Mina and John's mundanely domestic scenes, with only the vampire and her victims in the background (we never see where these vampire/victims are at all.) At this point I got the strong impression I was not going to like this book, but it soon turns out that it was worth it to hear Mina and John get a real plot to work with.

Unfortunately, I'm starting to get a sense of when these books are just going to go on without a plot for a while. Now, for those of you who have not kept track, these books started with an apparently realistic account of an English lawyer visiting and falling for the attentions of a young Hungarian woman (this sounds like the stuff of pulp fiction, but Symmons' book is in fact a non-pulp novel with a number of intriguing details); the English lawyer is bitten by a vampire and has to flee from a mob. The mob finds him, and he has the presence of mind to write a description of the young woman he loves, in a note hidden in his luggage. The letter then comes to life and kills the English lawyer. The Hungarian woman then finds the note and finds that John Harker, her mysterious lover, has now been sent back to her country to cure her father's illness (!) and save the blood of her family's soul. She then has the good sense to hide John's letter inside a secret compartment in her mirror, and have John's mirror (which was the only object in the room she left undamaged) sent to England to help the English lawyer. A couple chapters later, the Hungarian woman has been revealed as a vampire and been murdered, and John arrives home in time to write a description of how he survived and the mirror arrived safely in England. In his brief internal monologue (the first of his that we ever see from him) the English lawyer writes about the death of his Hungarian lover, and how it affected him; this part of the story is also told through Mina's narration. The rest of the book is mostly the story of the English lawyer's stay in a creepy castle with a spooky old lady, Mina's travel adventures, and various other adventures of her own, until finally we find out what happened to John and Mina and the rest of the English lawyers at the end of the book (i.e. they have been captured by a vampire, who is going to drain them of their blood in order to live forever). The entire book thus ends with "we didn't really have a happy ending, but a happy Mina was the end I needed, and it was enough."

As with any kind of book whose title is a genre name, there is always the nagging question -- how much sense does it make to write a book like this? As I said, this book is in some sense a horror story -- I feel like I am being subjected to a short story that is trying very hard to be a Gothic novel and isn't one. (I mean, vampires don't really make much sense as plot devices unless you really want to believe in them, but that doesn't seem to be this book's intent.) So why did I like it?

I think the main thing is that it is very well written. The chapters alternate between Mina's story and John's letters, and they are written in the kind of dry, straightforward style that is very typical of this kind of story. There are no surprises or plot twists (though there are a few that are still very good), but I really was surprised to learn that John was not the main character; these books were set up as a horror story to be about a woman, and the guy who wrote these chapters was, in fact, a woman. (It turns out that Symmons is a journalist, not an author, and I've never realized that before. But since the narrative voice is very consistent I don't think it matters.) As in any good horror story, there is something disturbing and compelling about this woman writing about the "unbearable" things. The chapters alternate between Mina and John, so we have both her first-person account and his account, but the reader gets the sense that she is a more "realistic" character, that she is more the kind of person we tend to imagine as the author -- her description of her first vampire encounter, in the first chapter, is almost too plausible, we get this strange and unsettling mixture of horror movie dialogue (she is very frightened) and first-person narration (she feels so overwhelmed by the horror, but is capable of thinking clearly). Meanwhile, the other character's internal narration, through the character John, is presented in a much more narratively fictionalized way: he is aware that we are reading these letters, but instead of using the first-person voice, we get his own thoughts, in a way that is almost the author's own thoughts, filtered through John's "realistic" mind. This creates this uncanny experience where John and Mina's "real lives" feel like some kind of novelistic backdrop to this man's more real thoughts about the horrifying things he's seeing. I guess there's a bit of the same thing with the narrator -- she is a woman, but, as we've seen, is a woman with a "real womanly voice," etc. (It was weird reading the English lawyer's account of Dracula -- I was expecting it to be the more "unsettling" one, not the narrator!)

On the other hand, it may just be that we've read a certain kind of book so often that we have been conditioned to have "horror" reactions to it, and these books hit just right. I'm sure other readers, more sensitive to creepy plot contrivances, will be bothered and horrified by these books. For me,

[theheartsmistakes]

The Last Night Part XII

(Author’s Notes: Sup guys! I hope you had a fantastic Fourth of July (for the American readers) and celebrated safely. If you are not American, I hope you had a fantastic weekend! Thank you for your patience while I worked through some writer’s block. I think I’m getting back into a swing though. I started reading a book that is set in the Edwardian period and it has helped me find the dialect and voice that I started with. I’ve been reading a lot of contemporary literature as of late and I think it’s influenced my writing a little, which is fine, but I’m fighting to remain consistent. I’m working on a novel of my own and it’s also based in the Edwardian period, but in a fantasy world, and I’ve been struggling to stay in the same dialect with that too. Anyhoo... I’m rambling... here is part 12. I hope that you enjoy it. Please hit the like, reblog, leave me a comment to cry happily over, and follow along for updates. Be safe! Be kind! Stay healthy.)

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Part XII

The following morning, James was settled in a wing chair in the game room, nominally enthralled by a short collection of poetry by Keats. It’d been a comfort to read Keats’ poetry when he would be feeling out of sorts. Perhaps because his father insisted on reading it to him as a child before bed. It seemed even in his adolescent and young adulthood, after weeks of sleepless nights cramming for examinations, going through drills during the day, and shivering through countless patrols in the chilly streets of London, he always enjoyed dozing in the warmth of a well-made fire, with Keats’ heart bleeding through the pages of his collection.

This naturally led to his considering what Keats would do in a situation like his. As his mind wandered into his thoughts, he was aware of the scent of late-blooming climbing rose coming in the window on a puff of air and he noted that the scent might have prompted the thought and he wondered whether Matthew would still be Matthew if he smelled of diesel and boot polish instead of bay rum, and what Cordelia, who smelled of roses and lime blossom to him, would be doing at this time of the day if she weren’t lying in her sick bed.

A swift clatter of boots on the stairs heralded Matthew’s arrival, and he closed the book, without the relief he’d been searching for, for even Keats couldn’t keep his mind from wandering.

“The Silent Brothers have gone,” said Matthew, his tone composed with his usual preferred demeanor of bored indifference.

“Gone where?” asked James.

“Back to the Citadel, I’m assuming,” said Matthew. He tugged at his starched shirt collar, and James could see he was warm with sweat about the neck, as if he had run all the way here. “Brother Zachariah remains and another, but I cannot recall his name, they all look the same to me.”

“Any word on Cordelia or Alastair?”

“Unfortunately not and the adults want a word with us in the dining room post haste. I assume they want a detailed description of our knowledge concerning the events of the night.” Matthew slumped in the other wing chair and covered his face with his arm. “

“Well, that’s certainly a blow to my afternoon plans,” said James, keeping his tone light in the hope that he could convince his parents and friends that he was calm enough to stand outside the bedroom that Cordelia had been moved into. They moved her in the night while he slept and no one would tell him the location due to his sudden outbursts. “If the other Brothers have left, that’s surely a good sign that Cordelia and Alastair are healing and are no longer in need of their attention.”

“It’s possible,” said Matthew from under his sleeve. “My parents are here, as are Kit’s and Thomas’s.” He groaned and added, “Charles insisted on coming as well. My life is over.”

James cursed. “What does he want?”

“‘To get to the bottom of this most unfortunate disaster’,” said Matthew, “his words, not mine. He’ll insist on lecturing us about how insubordinate we’ve all been, and how, seeing as we are underage, we have no business going out after the Carstairs siblings without briefing the adults with the situation first. He’ll make me file his paperwork for a month.”

“You’re being a bit dramatic,” said James.

Even as James spoke he felt the hypocrisy of offering comfort instead of truth. But what truth could he speak to his parabatai? Remembering the whispered conversations between his own parents after James had returned from near death by demon poisoning, James knew with a sinking feeling that his own investigation towards his grandfather would need to be done in absolute secrecy.

“Charles has been wanting to get me behind a desk since we were children,” said Matthew. “My mother will surely not object now that Shadowhunters are being plucked from their carriages in the streets.”

“Well, lucky for Charles, you’ve the best penmanship of all of us,” said James.

“So glad to hear that your humor has returned,”groaned Matthew, hanging his head so that his face was hidden beneath the fall of his hair. “Even if it is at my expense.”

“Pull yourself together, Math,” said James. He stood and tugged the edges of his jacket down as if to reinforce his words. “It will not serve to allow the entire household to hear such agitation. We have faced our parent’s fury before, this will be no different, I’m sure.” There was a pause, and James gazed out the window to allow Matthew a moment to compose himself. While he envied Matthew’s free and easy, passionate nature, his capacity for intense friendships, he always felt squeamish in the face of Matthew’s occasional display of emotion. He was accustomed to his own emotional outburst and Matthew insisting on James to calm down.

“You are right, of course,” said Matthew at last. He pulled a large silk handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his forehead. “Good to see you back to your more rational nature.”

“Thank you,” said James, fully aware that Matthew did not altogether mean it as a compliment. It was hardly fair that Matthew should provoke him into a purse-lipped rigidity and then insult him for it, but James’s first concern was to protect his friend from his own self-indulgence. “Now why don’t we make a suitable plan?” he added. “I’ve learned long ago that it’s best to just nod in the presence of angered adults.”

Matthew nodded as if to show his ability to follow direction. “Perhaps we should share what we know about Belial.”

“I think not,” said James. “My parent’s have already made it quite clear that they don’t want us involved in the investigation any further. We will have to continue it without their knowing.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” said Matthew. “He nearly possessed you and tried to kill Cordelia twice.”

“Which is why we must continue the investigation on how to properly kill him because it can be sure that he will not stop until he has what he wants,” said James. “There has to be a way to kill him properly.”

“I hope it’s something obvious,” said Matthew, “like spritzing him with water or feeding him chocolate.”

A sound of voices in the hallway outside the game room was followed by a light knocking on the door and Thomas’s voice saying, “Of course I’ve forgotten the secret knock, it was far too complex to begin with.”

“They’re here to fetch us,” said Matthew urgently. James noticed that he did have a strange, pale look about his face, but perhaps, he thought, this was the properly deserved effect of too much rough cider.

“By the angel, it’s only Christopher and Thomas,” he said. “You and Thomas can look pale and interesting together. Of course, he’s only just lost his sister. Perhaps his situation will help your sense of perspective.”

“Your sarcasm lacks the delicacy that would render it amusing,” said Matthew. “But thank you for your reason. Your permanent frown always brings me to my senses.”

“I do not have a permanent frown,” said James. He took a brief look into the mirror over the mantle and consciously adjusted his features to a half smile, which only seemed to make him look as if he were in pain.

“Hello gentleman,” said Matthew,  “do come in. It’s mercifully clear of authority in here.”

Christopher and Thomas came through the door, and James found himself slightly relieved that they were alone. Both of them were neatly dressed in tweed trousers, buttoned up shirts with suspenders. Christophers glasses rested on the end of his nose while Thomas' shirt strained heavily around the illustrious girth of his arms. Neither of them seemed to wear any hint of the previous night’s grievances.

“Welcome,” he said. “Is it time then?”

“Just about,” said Thomas and folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve only just arrived with mum and dad and only convinced Christopher’s parents to allow him to leave their side by promising that we were only going as far as to fetch the two of you.”

“It’s already begun,” Matthew blurted out. “Behold men, your last minutes of freedom.”

“What’s he on about?” asked Thomas.

“Pay him no mind,” said James. “He’s consumed with the notion that due to the events of the last few nights our parents are going to handcuff us to desks until we come of age.”

“My mother suggested it,” said Christopher, “but I think my father has made progress against the idea.”

“See,” said James, gesturing to Christopher. “If my aunt Cecily can be brought to sense then so will your parents. Let’s just do what they ask of us and resume our investigation without their knowledge.”

“So not much different from what we’ve been doing for the past seventeen years?” said Matthew, shooting James a look. James could only roll his eyes as Christopher and Thomas drifted to the two wing chairs, where they sat and continued, for some minutes, to turn over the circumstances of the secret Belial investigation in a low and urgent manner.

“Any word on Cordelia and Alastair?” asked James.

Thomas nose flared as he met James’s gaze with an expression of frankness. “No,” he said. “Not that I’ve heard.”

James leaned against the wall and felt an echo of the agony that he had felt the night before and had to quell an urge to run out of the room and demand that someone give him information on the state of his fiance, seeing as far as everyone knew they were still engaged.

“I overheard our mother’s talking,” said Christopher to Matthew. “Alastair woke for a moment last night and was able to communicate with the Silent Brothers, but he is instructed to rest without visitors so that the injuries to his brain can continue to heal.” Matthew grumbled something under his breath. “Cordelia has been placed into an induced coma that she is unable to wake up from on her own. When her injuries have had some time to heal they’ll attempt to wake her up. The good news however is that the cure for her demon poisoning has allowed the runes to take a more immediate effect so she is healing.”

Christopher offered James a reassuring smile, which he appreciated more than he could properly express.

“Forget being tied to a desk,” muttered Matthew. “My mother will probably request having me put into an induced coma instead.”

Tessa Gray sat in the plush velvet couch in the front drawing room with her legs crossed at the ankles and her husband’s hand gently pressed against her shoulder while he sipped brandy from a glass tumbler in his free hand. Aunt Cecily was seated in a wing chair beside the fire with her husband Gabriel a respectful six feet away from Will. Aunt Sophie sat at the other end of the couch with Tessa, her hand held softly in the clutches of Gideon, both of them still carrying the misery of the loss of their eldest daughter Barbara. Charlotte Fairchild stood behind her husband’s wheelchair and beside her eldest son Charles. James knocked on the door and went in followed by Matthew, Christopher, and Thomas.

“Gentlemen,” said Will. “I hope that you all slept well and are prepared for punishment and ridicule.”

“William,” warned Tessa. “We simply want you to recount your details from the night the Carstair’s were attacked.

Matthew shifted beside James.

It had only just occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Lucie since they arrived at the Institute with Cordelia and she wasn’t in the room now. “Where is Lucie? She would have more to tell than any of us would.”

“Lucie has already recounted her experience,” said Tessa, one eyebrow raised. “She’s resting now. It’s the four of you that we wish to speak to now.”

“We are enacting an investigation on this prince of hell Belial,” said Charles, as he moved forward into the center of the room. “If we’re to be successful in locating him and effectively killing him then we need all of the information that you have concerning him.”

“I’ve already told my parents everything that I know about Belial,” said James. Both Will and Tessa turned him a look. James exhaled and began his recount of his experiences with Belial.

“And you believe Belial to be the one to have taken Miss Carstairs?” asked Charles when James was finished.

“I never saw him myself,” said James. “That would be a question for Lucie.”

“She claimed not to have seen him either,” said Charles, removing a pocket watch and checking the time before slipping it back into his trousers. “She said that she found Cordelia in the fog badly injured. She said that she lost you, but once the fog rolled away, you appeared again. Is this not the truth?”

James wasn’t sure what would compel his sister to lie about the events of Cordelia’s rescue, but he had to assume that there was a good reason and one that he would explore later when he could speak to his sister himself.

“It’s the truth,” said James. “As I told you before Lucie disappeared into the fog and I ran after her. We lost each other for some time, and when the fog moved off, she was there again with Cordelia.”

Charles stroked his chin. “It’s been unanimously agreed upon that the four of you, including Lucie and Anna, will be restricted to local patrols during daylight hours and are to report in detail any and all demon activity. If you so choose to break your restrictions then your punishment will be as sever as I see warranted.”

“What exactly would you see warranted?” asked James.

“You’ll be sent to Alicante,” said Charles, his eyes marked on Matthew, “where you’ll remain until you come of age and if you continue to disobey direct orders then the punishment will be as severe as stripping you of your marks.”

“Charles,” Charlotte hissed from beside her husband. “We never mentioned—“

“It is for their own safety, mother,” said Charles, squaring his shoulders. “I do hope it doesn’t come to such extremes, but in this case, the safety of one is the safety of them all. I do hope this will encourage them to keep each other accountable.”

Though it pained James that these new founded restrictions would limit his personal research on finding a way to kill Belial, it did not discourage him in the least. In fact, he was even more excited about the prospect of an opportunity to infuriate Charles. If one of them were to be sent to Alicante, he was sure the rest would follow, and he couldn’t strip them all of their marks. What with Shadowhunters being down in numbers as it were. Charles tactics were classic: infiltrate fear into the army without ever enacting punishment. Not that Charles would ever find out if they were going against him. Charles was too busy building his castle out of sand to see what goes on around him.

“I think Charles has allowed power to go to his head,” said Will, under his breath. He’d been in something of high spirits since Jem had arrived at the Institute and been ordered to stay to help the Carstairs siblings mend. “Don’t fret, Jamie boy, if you are stripped of your marks, Coleridge lived a life of poverty and had to be sustained by charitable friends and he turned out fine.”

“William,” Tessa hissed. “Do be serious for a moment. Jamie, as much as we regret taking away your personal freedoms, it is of the utmost importance that you heed the restrictions put in place for you. Even if he is being a power hungry, conniving, son of a--”

“What your mother is trying to convey,” said Will, moving in front of her, “is that you should be careful and mindful of your action.”

“I could always become a postman like Trollope?” said James. “I’ll begin to work on my beard.”

Will bellowed and clapped James on the shoulder just as the doors to the drawing room were opened by the footman and in walked Brother Zachariah with Sona beside him. Her graying hair has come loose and spilled down her back in an array of perfect waves that mirrored the texture of her daughters. Her expression was somber; deep circles sat under her eyes and her lips were impossibly dry.

Her arm was entwined with Jem’s as they shuffled into the room.

James, followed by Tessa and Will, hurried across the room to meet them.

“Mrs. Carstairs is in need of some rest,” said Brother Zachariah. “She would like to request that James remain with Miss Cordelia while she is away.”

James took her free hand and offered it a reassuring squeeze.

“She is lost in there,” said Sona, her voice rough and weathered. “I can feel it. It helps if you read to her. Let her hear the sound of your voice so she has something to walk towards in all of that darkness.”

“I can show you to a room,” said Tessa, a note of emotion in her voice that she quickly cleared away.

“That would be lovely thank you,” said Sona and removed her arm from Jem’s for Tessa’s.

“Perhaps some light broth,” said Brother Zachariah. “She hasn’t eaten much and I worry for the child.”

Tessa nodded and led Sona from the room.

Brother Zachariah turned his attention to James. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better after some sleep,” said James. “I can go to Cordelia now if you wish.”

“She is having a bath,” said Jem, “but in the next hour. Prepare to make yourself comfortable, perhaps bring some literature. As Sona said before, it is of the utmost importance that you continue to speak to her, give her something to walk towards, or the Cordelia that you know can become lost in her thoughts forever.”

James' voice became bitter. “Why is she in a coma if it means she could become lost inside of her mind? Can’t you wake her up?”

“The injuries that she has sustained would be too terrible to be conscious during,” said Jem. “The body is able to heal much quicker if the mind is asleep to the pain.”

James drew himself into as stiff of a column as he could and clamped his teeth down on a small quiver of his jaw. He resolved himself in that moment to give Cordelia whatever she needed; if he had to read to her for days, weeks, even months then that was what he would do.

(Next update is going to be Sunday 7/12... maybe)

[knightsandjedis]

Let the pettiness commence

Let me be frank here when stating that if the quarantine weren’t happening I would probably remain the type of blogger to just re-blog posts without commenting or making my own posts. I enjoy looking at things more than commenting what can I say? I should say thanks and welcome to all the followers I’ve gained these past few years. You all are awesome and hope you all are staying safe during these troublesome times!

Alright, I’m going from civil to petty here and I should forewarn you if you’re a fan of Sarah J. Maas and her novels you’ll prefer to stay away then listen to my rant. Just being polite and giving a heads up.

Listen, there are periods where atrocious books become a major part of trending pop culture. Eventually, the hype dies down and people can take a deep inhale of relief. Around the 2010s time-period, the hype was focused on Twilight books. No matter where you went you felt suffocated by the hyper-fixation people had on this series. I’ll be honest I was an avid Twilight lover for a period until I wised up and had to recognize these books are horrendous and having a bad influence on teens during my era. Teens were getting Aids from drinking each other’s blood literally, they were drinking someone’s blood literally. While they’re still popular main society’s attention has begun to wane.

Pop culture has an new interest in Sarah J. Maas’s series: Throne of Glass (ToG) and A Court of Thorns and Roses (ACOTAR). At one time I was part of the fan-base obsessed with her books. During a bleak period where every book I purchased ending up a dud despite strong premises; Maas’s first books, in both series, were a breath of fresh air. They had characters you found hysterical and enjoyed the story-lines (even though the storytelling was meh at times) and you couldn’t help anticipating future novels to see where the novels took these characters. Both series died for me at the books: Queen of Shadows and A Court of Mist and Fury.

These novels were my wake-up call to Maas’ manipulative storytelling patterns and her inconsistent characterizations. She completely morphs characters depending on the scenario. A noble, decent character is turned heinous to either add unnecessary drama or to make readers turn their affections towards another character Maas’ manipulates into becoming “the hero”- typically a love interest. Usually, the first-or second in TOG- love interests are noble characters with a few flaws but nothing to make readers despise them other than the fact they’re not the prettiest men in the series. Literally, readers adore the male characters that are otherworldly attractive than an average looking male who is humane and unproblematic. Problematic much? The message I’m receiving is you should fall in love with a pretty face rather than explore the person’s entire being (this includes past history, personality, characterization, etc).

People will say I’m petty because I’m annoyed Chaol and Tamlin did not remain the love interests. This is absolutely untrue. I’m annoyed Maas had to pull absolute garbage reasoning out of her ass to make the characters despicable.

Let’s start with Throne of Glass. Celaena (I refuse to call her Aelin because the name visually repulses me, it sounds like something Maas stole out of better high fantasy novels) realizes she doesn’t find Dorian compatible and finds Chaol more of an equal. Chaol has flaws but his main one seems to be he’s good-looking but only average in comparison to Dorian and Rowan- whose sex on legs apparently. Maas realizes people will deny Rowan as a love interest (after he gets into a punching match with Celaena) so she has to make Celaena despise Chaol and interact towards him with hostility despite her recognition Chaol had his reasoning's for certain events in previous novels. Then, Maas takes Chaol’s character, who is known for being awkward around women and loyal to a fault, and make him have one night stands, cheating on women, and apparently the scapegoat for everything that goes wrong because Celaena can’t own up she made mistakes. Nehemia also died to give Celaena that necessary push to go against the king but it’s entirely Chaol’s fault for Nehemia’s death since Celaena can do no wrong. Horseshit I say.

Dorian is not a match, Chaol is the bane of Celaena’s existence so Rowan is her champion. Gag. I actually liked Rowan in Heir of Fire but I found it repulsive how Celaena keeps throwing herself at him in Queen of Shadows and growing dependent on him. When she put him in a bath and started throwing her favorite shampoos in I found it to be the most awkward scene. It’s a moment someone with limited knowledge of sexual encounters would conjure up. “Let me give my love interest a bubble bath!” I’ve read these type of bath scenes in other novels but they’re more maturely done. Although I have to remember these books are written for teens. Then, they become mates. A contradicting setup because he had a mate in the past. But, no one is compatible unless they’re mates in Maas’ world. So, mates are stuck together and seem to have a servant/master relationship in certain portions of the stories. Yuck, just yuck.

Readers if you have to state someone is someone else’s mate so you’re aware they’re a thing then it’s probably not a healthy relationship since you’re staying they own that person in Maas’ world-building.

I’m going to stop while I’m ahead when writing about Rowan and Caelena because they repulse me. Buuuttt not to the same extent as Feyre and Rhysand. I absolutely despise these characters with every fiber of my being. This is one of the most unhealthiest relationships I’ve ever read. Before I jump into why they’re disgusting let me just say I love how everybody hopped on the Feyre adoration bandwagon only when she got into a relationship with Rhysand. Nobody liked her until she got.into.a.relationship.with.Rhysand. Wow!

Listen, I understand why Feyre couldn’t stay with Tamlin after what he did (ahem what Maas decided he should do). However contradictory Tamlin’s characterization was the relationship had turned unhealthy. Yetttt, no one batted an eye with Rhysand was giving Feyre date rape drugs, forcing her to give him lap dances making her sick when she came out of the haze, and her being entirely repulsed when he made-out with her. Plus, I read Rhysand as a gay or bi character when he was introduced. I think he would be a better character as a gay male seeking a friendship than their disgusting love story. He goes from giving her roofies and at least seeming like a morally gray character to Feyre’s champion. Yeah, not buying the bullshit.

I pity Tamlin’s character truly- he was butchered beyond recognition. He goes from allowing Feyre to wander to her heart’s extent- as long as she wasn’t in dangerous areas- to locking her up because he thought it made sense. He’s suddenly possessive of her in the most disgusting ways (but Rhysand isn’t possessive in the slightest even when he calls Feyre his “mate!”). All these details were added to make Rhys’ character more heroic. Rhys goes from being a somewhat tolerable character in his actions to a fucking messiah. Rhysand goes from roofie expert to whisking Feyre away for her own safety. Rhysand assists Feyre under the mountain unlike Tamlin! (Because the queen didn’t give a shit about Rhysand and he wasn’t under her radar to the extent as Tamlin). He loves reading stories with Feyre unlike Tamlin. (Hmm, Tamlin offers to teach Feyre to read which she stubbornly refuses because she’s independent but Rhysand forces her to learn and he’s romantic!). And gasp, Tamlin ended up being the one who murdered Rhysand’s family hence their animosity (hahahaha how desperate are you Maas, I mean seriously how pathetic). Feyre, just like Caelena, was forced into this relationship with another abuser painted as a hero in storytelling. Rhysand and Rowan are constructed into heroes to make their disgusting actions justifiable in comparison to Chaol and Tamlin’s ruined characters.

I’m mostly focused on the main relationships since that’s all I keep hearing about. Changing subjects briefly, Maas’ does not acknowledge PoC or LGBTQIA unless readers are pointing out lack of representation. If they’re introduced you’re guaranteed either they die to promote the white lead’s agenda or forced to become a villain. What kind of statement does that make, Maas???? Also, her world-building is beyond odd. Random characters get introduced in weird scenarios that she has to force into the story-line just for sprucing purposes (Manon and the 12 and the 12 princesses from Earth or whatever). Really, what were the purposes of these characters???? And these kingdoms are written so bad. One realm has everyone wearing Renaissance era clothing while the next realm has people dressing hipster I mean wtf?

The reason for my rant is that I needed to get it out of my system. Lately, I cannot get away from these garbage novels. I’m on my Kindle the books are recommended. I’m on Goodreads her books are recommended and keep winning Book of the Year despite better novels being on the same list. I go on Facebook someone mentions deciding to give the series a spin under quarantine. I’m on tumblr (if you’re a fan then that’s fine, enjoy what you love) and artwork keeps popping up. I love it’s typically Feyre giving Rhysand lap-dances in the earlier part of the series where she’s desolate and sicken by these moments. People are quite forgetful when they want to ignore something in order to make Rhysand babe. I wish I knew how to block anything Sarah J Maas on here because I’m trying to escape. I want to read other authors’ novels and not have Maas’ smug face pop up on my recommendation lists. (Her books are on every list on Goodreads- every freaking list!) Hopefully, when quarantine ends the hype will quiet again but I’m getting ticked off here.

Just had to get it off my chest. I’ll probably go back to quietly ignoring the recommendations and artwork but I’m having a moment here.

[an-avid-reader]

The Hate U Give - Angie Thomas

my rating: 5/5 stars

On the night of a party gone wrong in Garden Heights, or “the hood”, Starr and her childhood best friend, Khalil, drive away only to be stopped by a white police officer. Khalil, unarmed, gets shot right in front of Starr’s eyes. Alas, Starr’s worlds—Garden Heights and Williamson, a predominantly white prep school—collide as word of Khalil’s death spreads and she is the only witness. Will Starr be able to bring justice to Khalil via riot and protests, or will he be remembered as a drug dealer and a thug?

"Funny how it works with white kids though. It's dope to be black until it's hard to be black"

Link to Goodreads || Spoiler-free review

A few things to check out:

Dear White People (Netflix)

When They See Us (Netflix)

Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race (Book)

A list of places to donate to / one YT video if you’re unable to donate 

Here’s a post that is much more comprehensive

let me know if any of the links don’t work, I will update them :)

There’s a reason why this book has quite a few awards on the front—this book covers what some may consider a “taboo” topic aka racism, but it’s an issue. I’m writing this review slightly earlier than before I’m posting it, but right now the current news is about George Floyd’s death, which is arguably more brutal than what happened in this book, but the fact that some police officers still think race has something to do with one’s intentions is outrageous and disgusting. Even in Canada, there have been instances of racism across history (spoiler: Canada isn’t a ‘saint nation’, even though the population is very diverse). 

For these reasons, I think this book, while it is triggering, I think it should be fit into the curriculum for students to read so that they may be educated on racism, and how it can literally kill others, as well as to try and dismantle the systematic racism that is imposed on us from a young age. I can never sit here and tell you that I can experience what Starr went through (or what any POC—black or otherwise—has ever been through), I can only educate myself and emphasize with what’s been said/done to you—please call me out if I’ve said something that may be offensive and feel free to correct me if I’ve said anything wrong.

Alright now on with the book review! This book is so raw and powerful, Thomas does a great job of describing the scenes and the emotions Starr goes through during each scene. We get to see how she feels about dating a white boy while being black herself, how her neighbourhood is beautiful despite it being described as the hood, we also get to see how Starr’s demeanor completely changes while she’s at school vs when she’s visiting her family. While Thomas’ writing may be simple, she does a great job of capturing those moments and the emotions tied within the scene.

As we get to see Starr becoming a witness and taking legal action, I wasn’t sure where the story was headed. Would Khalil get justice and would the cop go to jail? How would Starr’s mental health be affected? Will her family be okay? (Don’t you just love it when there’s so much more conflict in the story that needs to be resolved and yet there are only 2 chapters left) Etc. etc. The thing about The Hate U Give is that there are multiple story lines, which help to drive the story forwards. Those plotlines didn’t feel out of place or forced—everything seemed to progress at a reasonable pace. 

I feel like one of the key parts of this story are the characters and their dynamics to the story. The most obvious being between Starr and her family. Although Starr has her own secrets that she keeps from her dad (*cough cough* Chris *cough cough*), I feel like they still have a strong bond, especially as the story went on and her dad, Maverick, stood behind Starr, even when things went south. (I could also 100% relate to Starr bickering with her brothers—even her half-brother). Then there’s Chris, which I kinda feel weird about him...which I feel like it’s a spoiler so I’ll talk about it under the cut. Overall, I’m glad that while he doesn’t understand what Starr has been through, he doesn’t judge her—he listens to her story and he also stays by Starr’s side at all times. I appreciate that Thomas didn’t put too much focus on the romance, otherwise I think it would’ve detracted from the main message. Finally, there are Starr friends. Even though we only got to know Khalil for a bit at the beginning, I like that Starr’s friendship with him was sprinkled throughout the story, even if it was in subtle ways. You could tell that, while their friendship may have fallen apart, Starr really cared for him and he was at the forefront of her mind. We also get to see Maya and Haliey’s friendship with Starr...and I can’t talk much about that without spoilers :/ let’s just say...it was interesting…

While I can’t exactly relate to Starr on an emotional/traumatic/life experience level, I love that we are both Harry Potter fans and she runs a Tumblr (which idk why but I’m always taken aback when books have Tumblrs?? Yet here we are). I appreciate that she tries to see the best in people, until they prove her wrong (or give her a reason to not like them). I think Starr is a strong role model in the sense that she stands up for herself and is determined to get justice, although she’s not cocky about it. It’s quite the opposite, she doubts herself—I just remember that there were so many parts where she blamed herself for not recalling every single detail of the incident or not putting emphasis on the type of person Khalil was to avoid him getting stereotyped. Starr also questioned her relationship with Chris, albeit she seemed a bit naive at some points. Because of Starr’s strong personality and her core values, the message of The Hate U Give is so much stronger, hence why I feel like everyone should read this novel.

Finally, I learned a lot from this novel. Regardless of the fact that this is a fictional book, it is very much based on the realities of Black people and the hardships they must endure on a daily basis. To be honest, I feel so dumb for not even realizing that the title spells out THUG and runs parallel with Tupac’s meaning of THUG LIFE. Mind you, now when I look at the cover, it’s all I see. I also didn’t realize that Black kids and teens are taught how to act around the police—all to be avoided to get arrested, shot, or killed—which is frankly, messed up. Thomas also takes the time to address the names she used, intentionally to give another layer of the book, which I feel that it is based on reality. I can definitely see why this book has received so many awards—and if this book were implemented in schools, it would allow the discussion on racism to be opened and it would also allow kids to see that not all authors are white, old men (looking at you, Shakespeare, which tbh the only good play I read was Macbeth).

I wanted to thank you for reading my review; if you’ve read this book, I’d love to know your thoughts. Below the cut, I have a spoiler section that I wanted to include (which I might add in future reviews, idk though). 

Please stay safe and healthy,

~ Cassandra / an-avid-reader

THE REMAINDER OF THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS

Okay, I’m not going to lie, but I thought that no one knew about Chris; didn’t Starr mention within the first few chapters that she can’t introduce him to her family because she’s afraid of what they’ll say/judge her for dating a white boy? But then, it turns out it’s just her dad that doesn’t know about him??? Idk if my memory is really that bad or if it’s such a slim detail (maybe it actually is an inconsistency o.O). But anyways, I love how Maverick was just playing with him (and making it clear that Chris would be in big trouble if he hurt Starr). I’m also not sure if he has a fetish for Black women (which Starr also pointed that out)—which I don’t know how to feel about that. I know some people have a thing for people of colour (Asians are commonly a fetish too, for example) but then some guys also have a thing for super short girls? Um yeah. I’ll probably leave it at that.

I’m not sure if it was just me, but I deadass thought Seven was going to be a gangbanger. He was sooooo suspicious anytime King was mentioned (which I get King is with Seven’s biological mom, but still I can’t be the only one who was suspicious, right?). I have to give him props though for putting his sisters’ needs before his own and for also listening to Iesha’s point of view. This man doesn’t give on people easily, and that’s a nice change. 

The last thing I wanted to include in this spoiler section is Haliey. I just— wtf man. She perfectly embodies the issue and idk she gave me such Karen vibes. It’s so frustrating that she just accepted the newspaper’s article story at face value—I don’t even think she even took the time to listen to the other point of view. I’m so glad that Starr punched her in the face, even though that resulted in her getting in trouble. And it’s not even towards just Starr that she was racist! When Maya opened up about Haliey’s comments, I was pretty infuriated. I think Haliey’s comments came from a place of ignorance or a lack of education, but it just bothered me that she just brushed it off. Smh “it was just a joke” or “get over it” *rolls eyes* Just apologize, Haliey, and educate yourself, please. Actually, maybe she could take lessons from Mr. Warren, their english teacher because he was lowkey a G. I was pleased to see he was a teacher (who are often seen as role models) that actually gave a crap about Starr and what she was going through. I guess we just need to be more attentive to what people have to say and be more empathetic when they’re hurt.

[blackrose343]

Unforgettable Night - NSFW

This fanfic is for 18+

Warnings: Sex

Kuroshitsuji / Black Butler - Sebastian x Female Reader

Fanfic Summary: For a long time Arthur Wordsmith could never forget his time at the Phantomhive manor. As his friend you tried to comfort him yet he would never reveal what happened. Every time you would mention it, Arthur would automatically become frightened. A new professor arrives to the school you both teach at. Your acquaintance with the new professor makes Arthur uneasy. Yet you can’t help yourself from indulging in your desire.

4,129 words

Still binge watching Kuroshitsuji and decided to revisit this fanfic too.

It was just past nightfall. Drizzles of rain were starting to come down, becoming liquefied tears. Lightning was hitting the ground with a mighty fist. Thunder could be heard from all over. There were stacks of papers to grade, a medium sized candle, and a cup of Earl Grey on my desk. Professor Wordsmith, my colleague, was seated at the desk waiting for me to bring some snacks. He seemed to be more tense and worried than usual tonight. I admit, I knew him for quite some time, but I could not tell what was bothering him right now or any other time there was a thunderstorm.

He has been like this ever since he came back from a party held by Earl Phantomhive. I have asked him multiple times to tell me what had happened, but he always starts to shake with tremendous fear and becomes as pale as a ghost. I would advise him to go to a psychologist, but I - along with the majority of the people - am extremely skeptical about them. 

I set the tray of food down on the table and looked into Wordsmith’s eyes through the candle’s flame. He gives me a small and innocent smile, trying to hide the fear radiating off of him. I wanted to put the poor man’s head in my bosom and rock him back and forth like a child, but refrained from doing so. “Arthur, you need to let this go. It has been years since that night has happened.”

“I wish I could, but that night is stuck in my memory. It is as if that entire time at the Phantomhive manor happened yesterday. I can never forget that night. Never.”

“Please, drink some tea. It will calm your nerves.” His hands shook as he took a sip of his tea. I took a bite of one of the cookies I set down. Its crumbs got on my dress, but I paid no heed to them. I wanted to calm Arthur down as much as possible before we went home for the night. “I wish you could forget about that night. Your wife is very worried about you. It may not be long till your daughter notices. You did say that she saw you burn a stack of papers, which I am assuming was about that night.”

“Let’s change the subject. Just saying ‘that night’ is starting to get me scared.”

“Do forgive me. I did not think it would. What a horrible thing I have done to you, my good friend.”

“Do not fret over it. You do not completely understand how it has affected me.’

“But, if it wasn't for that event, you would have never gotten an idea or inspiration for that story you wrote.”

“I know, but please.”

“Of course, I understand. Oh, did you hear of the new professor that is going to start working here tomorrow?”

“No, I did not. Have you?”

“Yes, some of the women said they were able to get a glimpse of him when he filled out an application to work here.” As I explained to Arthur what the other faculty members said about the new professor, his face paled. It was as if a vampire was sucking all of his blood from thin air. He quickly got out of his chair and ran through the door. “Arthur!”

I grabbed the candle and followed him. I did not think Arthur was the athletic type. He was running away from here as if a ghost was haunting him. He went around the corner towards the exit. As I turned the corner, I slipped. I had to claw my nails into the wall to prevent myself from getting caught on fire. Once I got my footing right, I stood up and saw that Arthur was gone. I quickly went back to my office and called his household. I told his wife what happened and to call me if he came home safe.

Today, I awoke to such a wonderful morning. Everything about it was perfect. Bright and warm sun, chirping birds, everything that Spring stood for in a nutshell. I thought it was a shame to waste, so I decided to have my class outside and have my students write about what they thought Spring meant to them.

I was on my way to my classroom when I caught Arthur from the corner of my eye. I went over to him and greeted him a good morning. He did the same and apologized for his actions from last night. I told him not to worry about it. He calmed down when I told him my plans for the day. Arthur thought it was a marvelous idea.

We started to talk about how his wife reacted to his actions and what he did to calm himself down when he returned home. He then told me how his daughter asked him to tell her a story to help her fall asleep. Arthur said that he made her pray to God before he told her a story. Honestly, I think it is stupid that people waste their time doing that, but I will not judge him for it. “Speaking of which, why are you wearing a pin of a cross? This is a public school.”

“To calm my nerves.” He gave a nervous laugh while he rubbed the back of his head. I wanted to tell him wearing a pin would not do anything, but I will accept anything that makes him feel safe. I also wanted to ask him why now of times he would wear it, but the bell rang. I was about to say goodbye to Arthur, but he beat me to it and sprinted away. I was bewildered, but turned around.

My face crashed into someone’s chest. Instinct made me take a quick step back. A strong, lean arm wrapped itself around my waist helping me regain my balance. I looked up to be met by a pair of crimson eyes behind a pair of glasses. Slightly messy raven black hair was framing the man’s pale face. It was the most handsome face I had ever seen. I can see why the women were awestruck when they saw him. “F-forgive me. I was not paying attention to my surroundings.”

“The fault is all mine madame. It was so rude of me to run into a beautiful woman such as yourself.” I had the feeling he was only saying that because he was trying to falter me, but I was faltered. I could feel a rosy blush run across my cheeks. Everything about this man was getting me hot. I felt like I was going to melt. This man was every woman's dream. He was handsome, intelligent, polite, and strong. I want to know what type of man he is in bed.

“Forgive me for I must get to my class.” I quickly left him like a school girl running away from her crush. I never knew I could feel like that again. The first time I felt like this was when I first met Arthur in high school.

Once I arrived to class, I apologized to my students for making them wait for me. We went through with my plans from earlier and they were successful. I also found out about the new student in my class, Ciel Phantomhive. I was shocked that his father would make him go to a school like this. It wasn't particularly bad per say, but usually the children of high social status would have private tutors come to their home.

The rest of the day was nice. Arthur seemed to have calmed down a bit and I got the majority of my papers graded. I finished most of what needed to be done, but alas, I could not get Professor Michaelis out of my head. Damn, that man is such a charmer.

As the next couple weeks passed by, I became more acquainted with Professor Michaelis. I noticed Arthur started to drift away from me and barely said a word when we had lunch together. It was making me become depressed. I want to be friends with Michaelis, but I do not want to lose Arthur in the process of it.

I was in my office grading timed essays from today when Arthur came in. He seemed a bit paranoid. He locked the door and came to my desk. His eyes went directly to mine, penetrating through the candle and locking my eyes with his. It had been a long time since I have seen Arthur like this. I had a feeling it was about my acquaintance with Sebastian. I was correct.

Arthur tried to convince me to stop trying to be friends with Sebastian, but I refused to do so. He did not explain to me why I should stay away from him. I gave him reasons to keep trying to convince me otherwise. I was so caught up with supporting my choice that I did not notice Arthur getting furious. He slammed his hands down on my desk, making everything shake momentarily. Shock took over, making me stop in the middle of my sentence. His hands were curled into fists. His teeth were clenched together.

He took a couple deep breaths and then put a stack of journals on my desk. I looked at him, bemused. I did not know what to do with these, but he would not answer. I gingerly picked up the book at the top of the stack. I quickly skimmed it and then read it meticulously. My eyes widened. These journals contained the story of that night at the Phantomhive’s party. I understood what was happening. Not only was Arthur finally allowing me to know what happened, but the books also had the reason why I should stay away from Sebastian.

Days passed as I read his story. I got so absorbed in it that Arthur offered to grade all of my papers until I finished reading them. Sebastian seemed to notice and only spoke to me for a few moments. Arthur really did remember everything as if it happened yesterday. Everything was so detailed: the dresses, rooms, even the food. I understood why Arthur did not want to see another body, but I did not understand why he was afraid of Sebastian.

I was in my office, finishing the last part of the book while organizing my office. This certain part was making chills go up my spine. I started to forget that this was what Arthur experienced. All of it was merging into a fantasy novel. I stopped reading it to give myself a break and to remind myself that this was real, not fantasy.

I started to boil some water and grade some papers Arthur left for me. I sat down at my desk and took a deep breath. I did not want to grade papers, but I knew I had to since I had to give them back and go over them tomorrow. Grading papers made me realize how much I missed over the past few days. I started to remember conversations I had with the other professors. Some of the women always talked about Sebastian and how they envied me. Some faculty members talked about how brilliant Ciel was. I was looking over Ciel’s essay when I remembered that conversation. “Damn, he is brilliant. The others weren’t lying. Well, his was the last essay to grade. Now I can finish that book.”

I took a sip of my tea as I reached across the desk to get the book. My middle finger pushed it off the desk, but did not hit the floor. I looked in the direction the book fell and saw someone getting up. The candlelight didn’t give off enough light to reveal the black silhouette in front of me. However, the candle’s light was able to reveal the silhouette was reading Arthur’s story. “Excuse me, but that is private. Please give it to me.”

“I’ve been wondering what you’ve been reading for the past few days, but I did not think it was this.” The silhouette turned towards me, letting the candle’s light reveal who it was. I knew it was Sebastian since I could never forget those eyes. He was looking down at me with the book in the air, a smirk on his face. I started to get a good idea of why Arthur wanted me to stay away from him even though I did not get to the real reason yet. “You are about to get to the greatest part. Though, I am shocked that Mr. Wordsmith would allow you to know this was all real.”

“As you probably know Mr. Michaelis, Arthur and I have been friends for a long time.” A thunderstorm started, making me feel how Arthur does every time one occurs. Fear started to creep up my body, but I was not going to allow Sebastian to see it. Sebastian smirked and started to read where I have left off. The room became eerie and cold. Goosebumps were appearing on my arms. Sebastian was taking his time walking to me. A dark aura (which Arthur described as an ill feeling) started to surround me. I looked all around me and saw that I had no escape.

“Do you want to know why Mr. Wordsmith fears me?” It was difficult to see yet I saw Sebastian change. Not his clothes but his appearance. His eyes glowed red with a slight pink hue. Claws formed. It was obvious Sebastian was not human. My instincts told me to try and run, but I knew it would be of no use. I also did not want to leave. I seemed to feel more at home around his aura for some peculiar reason. I wanted to reach over to him and pull him towards me. I wanted our lips to connect. I wanted his aura to engulf me. I wanted this man to drown me in pleasure. Sebastian’s smirk grew as he noticed what I was starting to crave.

He was in front of me. My heart was pounding so fast, so hard. I thought it was going to explode. My forehead was forming droplets of sweat. My lips were parted, waiting for either myself to say something or for Sebastian to claim them. He bent down to my level, letting one of his claws lightly caress my face. He was watching my every move, every expression, everything about me.

He had his thumb on my lower lip, slowly sliding and pressing it. His claw left a shallow cut on it. My saliva dripped on it, making it sting. It did not hurt, but made me give him a low moan. My breaths got shallower with each passing minute. He lightly blew on the cut, hearing me sigh in pleasure. He wrapped his arm around my waist again, just like the first time we met. He pressed my lip some more, forcing blood to come out of the cut. He was going to place his lips on mine, but changed his mind at the last second. He stuck his tongue out and started to lick the blood coming out of my lip. I took a sharp breath and moaned. I could feel my breasts hitting Sebastian’s chest.

He stopped licking my cut and brought his mouth to my ear. He softly whispered that he did not have to be as scary as Arthur described him. I knew that he was telling the truth. I knew that this was going to be a one time thing. I allowed him to do as he pleased. I knew this was his way of making me not tell anyone his secret. Right now, I did not care about anything except the pleasure Sebastian was going to give me. I wanted it and would do anything to have it.

Sebastian sucked on my wound and then claimed my mouth. I wished that he did not force my arms to stay at my sides. Oh, how much I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and deepen our kiss! Our tongues fought for dominance, but he quickly took it. I could feel saliva going down my jaw and onto my neck. I could feel my breast coming out of my dress.

His grip loosened as his lips left mine. A pout formed on my face. He chuckled and licked away my line of saliva. His warm tongue traveled from the base of my neck to the corner of my mouth. I turned my head towards his tongue, wanting it to claim my mouth again. Sadly, Sebastian pulled his head away and offered me his hand. I looked at it questioningly. I did not understand why I would have to get up. “I think your tea would have been better if it has some ‘milk.’“

Sebastian was showing me the sexiest, most erotic smirk I had ever seen. Butterflies started to flutter in my stomach. The darkest blush was forming on my cheeks. I had never been talked to so inappropriately. I knew I should have been appalled, but I was one of the rare ones that liked that type of stuff. He seated himself in the chair with his legs spread apart. He was waiting for me to make my move. I gave him a sweet and innocent smile then got down on my knees. I placed one hand on his thigh and the other on his hardened member. I started to gently rub it, earning a slight grunt from him. I then undid his fly and let his member come out. My blush deepened, for it was huge. I had to admit, his cock was the greatest I had ever seen, for I did not see that many in my lifetime. Everything about it was perfect: its condition, size, thickness, the tip, everything. I started to do exactly as he did to my lips - I licked the tip of his member. I could sense that he was becoming annoyed with me, but I did not care.

I took the tip into my mouth and swirled my tongue around it. I closed my eyes as I started to bob my head back and forth. I varied my rhythm. I could feel him pulsing inside of my mouth, ready to come. He pushed his member into my mouth, partially going down my throat. His claws punctured my head, but I did not notice. He took his member out of my mouth. I was able to taste some of his seed as it sprayed my chest. 

I leaned my head on his leg and gave out a sigh of satisfaction. I was looking up at him, waiting for his next command. He raised his hand and motioned for me to come to him by swinging his index finger back and forth. I quickly got up and Sebastian ripped my dress off. I was standing in front of him with my corset and panties. My breasts were completely exposed to him. I wrapped my arms around my waist and looked down. He pulled me towards him. One of his hands was swirling around my breast. He then pulled on it hard. I let out a scream mixed with pleasure and pain.

He set me down on his lap. My knees were right next to his buttocks. I lowered my hips so they were above his member. He started to play with both my breasts. He sucked on one and pinched the other. I couldn’t stop my loud moans from escaping. The pleasure from my breasts and precious spot were killing me. His member was rubbing against my “lips”. I wanted him to penetrate me and rip my underwear apart. I couldn’t hold myself back any longer and came. “Se-Sebastian!”

After I regained enough stamina, he made me squat above his lap. He told me not to move and tore my panties off. Slowly, I lowered myself onto him. I whimpered as I got closer to the base of his cock, but sighed when he was completely inside of me. I felt as if I was going to come again and it felt so good. I held onto his shoulders and started to move.

It was very clear to Sebastian that I had never had sex in this position. He held onto my waist and started to guide me. When I got the hang of it, he loosened his grip and resumed to playing with my breasts. My moans started to fill the room. I could hear some of Sebastian’s grunts in the background.

I had one hand on his shoulder; my other one was getting my hair out of my face. My head was leaning back. My breasts were jumping up and down while Sebastian played with my nipples. I could feel my climax coming again and picked up the pace. I was so close to coming again, but Sebastian stopped me. I looked at him with dismay on my face and pleading eyes. Again, he smirked at me while he laid me down on my desk.

I was flat on my back with my hands pinned behind my head and my legs spread apart. I quickly covered my opening and started to rub my insides together to reach my orgasm. I was panting, looking up at my tormentor. He brushed his fingers down my sides. It sent chills up my spine. I loved and hated the anticipation.

He continued this torture to the rest of my body until he sensed I was reaching my orgasm. He quickly put his hands between my legs and forced them apart. A little mewl escaped my lips. He stopped what he was doing and forced himself inside me. The top half of my body lifted itself up while my head was forced back. He was pounding into me so hard that I thought he was going to break me. I couldn’t stop mewling and moaning in pleasure. Something told me that he loved that sound. I wanted to do anything he liked so he could pleasure me.

My legs were wrapped around him. My feet were clinging to his pants. My wrists were fighting for freedom. My body was sliding up and down my desk. My mind became hazy. I could hear things falling off of my desk: papers, books, pens. I could feel our sweat mingling, the fire he sent through my mouth and body, and his claws that were cutting me. I could also feel my orgasm coming.

My moans became louder and sighs were escaping my lips. He actually let me come this time, but he was not done. He was still pounding into me. I could not stop my juices from flowing freely from me. Tears were forming in my eyes. I felt something playing with my clitoris for the first time. It felt wonderful and made me come again. Sebastian entered into me once more and released his warm seed inside.

Before his orgasm finished, he took his member out of me and let his seed cover me from head to toe. My body couldn’t stop shaking. My lungs were trying to gather as much air as possible. Sebastian unwrapped my legs from his and let them dangle off of the desk. I felt like a whore, but I guess I was one for tonight.

As Sebastian tidied himself up, I lifted myself on my elbows and watched him. There was neither a wrinkle nor a crease on him. He looked impeccable. It’s impressive how he can always look like this even when having sex. It was more impressive that his clothes were not dirty. Everything about this man was impressive.

After he left, I quickly ran to the school’s showers and cleaned myself. The next day we both acted as if nothing happened. Though I admit, I could not help but blush when he passed by me. Arthur is still worried about me hanging around Sebastian, no matter how many times I reassured him that he would not harm me.

When I got to class, I gave my students a free day. Some of their papers were covered in come or destroyed. It was a good thing I recorded the grades in my grade book. Sebastian came in and asked if he could speak with me. I gladly agreed to do so. Ciel looked at him, annoyed. I blushed, knowing that he knew what happened last night. Sebastian pulled me out of the room and told me to ignore him. He lowered his head and kissed me. I gave in immediately. I would do anything to have him again.

[axwalker]

The Trade 8

Synopsis :  Liam is running for Cordonia’s presidency. To assure his victory, Constantine makes an arraignment behind his back for him to marry the rich ambassador’s daughter: Alexis O’Brien. Due to her father’s threats she has no other option that seduce Liam and make him fall in love with her. But what does she really feel? (AU)

Pairings: LiamxMC DrakexMC

Warnings: In this chapter I write SMUT for the first time, I hope you’ll like it.. 

IMPORTANT ! In this chapter there is mention of rape, if you get triggered by this issue, don’t hesitate to send me a message and I’ll be glad to explain what happens in the story without reading it. 

Words: 7,000 (ish)

Please note that this is my first series and English is not my first language. I really love ALL kinds of feedback. Don’t hesitate to comment!

Disclaimer: Some of the dialogues and settings as well as most of the characters belong to Pixelberry (except for Alexis O’Brien and her evil father George O’Brien JR). I also used a line from Grey’s Anatomy that really made me think about Drake.

To catch up: Masterlist

Thanks to  @mskaneko​  for the beautiful edit in my moodboard . You’re so talented!😍😍  @pedudley​ Who read my smut part (twice! because I was so insecure)  and heard me doubting all week 😘😘. And of course to my girl  @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​​  You read me, correct my English, encourage me AND made me this amazing edit! I love you so much ❤️ ❤️

I'm tagging those who asked if you want to be tagged just ask :-)

@mskaneko​ @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​ @burnsoslow​ @pug-bitch​ @pedudley​ @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ @msjr0119​ @kingliam2019​ @yukinagato2012​ @lauzales​

“Come on, I know where we can go”

Drake helped Alexis stand up. Feeling her shiver, he took off his jacket and put it on her shoulders.

“I have to go get my keys.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Are you going to be okay by yourself for a few minutes?”

She gave him a small smile “Yes, of course. I’ll wait here”

A few minutes later, they were both seated in Drake’s jeep. Alexis was watching through the window without saying a word. Drake could see how shaken she was and wanted to give her some time to calm herself, so he drove silently, occasionally squeezing her hand. Finally, they arrived at Walker’s cabin. Drake pulled over but Alexis didn’t move from her seat, her mind a thousand miles away.

He watched her for a few seconds, unsure of how to proceed. He put his right hand on her shoulder.

“Alexis,” he said gently. “We’re here. It’s my cabin.”

She was still turning to the window hugging herself.

“If you want we can go back to Lythikos o-“

“No! Please, not to Lythikos. I can’t go back there.”

Her pleading eyes affected him deeply, he had never seen her so fragile before.

“It’s okay.” Drake knew that expressing how he felt was not his strongest feature, but his eyes were trying to transmit all the tenderness he was capable of. “It’s okay, Alexis, we’ll stay here. You’re fine. I promise I’ll keep you safe”.

They entered the house in silence, and Drake took her upstairs to the master bedroom.

“You can sleep here,” he said as she entered the room he was pointing at.

She looked around noticing the jean shirt thrown over a chair, the black Timberlands at the foot of the bed, and Paul Auster’s “Book of illusions” opened in a nightstand. The whole room smelled of sandalwood with a hint of whiskey.  

“This is your room,” Alexis said more as an affirmation than as a question.

She turned around to meet Drake’s gaze that was focused intently at her; he was leaning against the frame of the door with his right hand shoved in his trousers’ pocket.

She looked so deeply sad and vulnerable, that he wanted nothing more than to cut the distance between them and take her in his arms. However, he instinctively knew that if he wanted her to feel safe again, he had to proceed carefully. After a few seconds, she sat on the bed, so he took a few slow steps and sat next to her.

“You scared me there O’Brien.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Please tell me what happened so I can help you.” He rubbed her face with the back of his hand. “Whatever it is, I’ll be here, I’ll do anything to help you.”  Suddenly, she stood up hugging herself again as if she wanted protection, a wall between her and the world.

“No one can help me, Drake. Can we please not talk about it?”

He didn’t want to press the matter for the moment. His priority was to make her feel safe.

“If you don’t want to talk, we won’t” He went to his closet and took out a t-shirt.

“I guess you don’t want to sleep in that dress.”

She gave him her first true smile since they had left Lythikos. “A true gentleman,” she teased him.“Thank you. For everything,” Alexis added earnestly. 

“Always, O’Briens” He looked straight into her dark eyes “I mean it. Sleep well, I’m in the next room if you need anything” 

She nodded.

After the shock she had suffered seeing Brad at Lythikos, Alexis thought she would never feel safe again. Yet in Drake’s cabin with his calming presence only a few feet away from her, she felt completely protected. His room itself, full of little details about his life was a refuge. There were some pictures on a wooden shelf portraying him and a young attractive woman. They were sailing in one and having a picnic in another; Drake seemed more relaxed and comfortable than ever and Alexis couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Knowing that she was intruding in his world, she continued her inspection, desperate to know everything about him. A book caught her attention. It was a very used copy of ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’, her favorite novel since she was eighteen. The more she explored Drake’s room, the more she fell for him. It was rugged and masculine but also cozy and warm, mirroring the contrasts of his owner’s personality. Drake wanted so badly to seem unapproachable and cold and was anything but.

Drake left his room uneasy. He would’ve done anything to help her, but it would be impossible if he didn’t know what had happened. Alexis seemed alright after their moment in the cellar and only half an hour later she was crying desperately in the gardens. Suddenly, Drake remembered Alexis had gone to meet with her father; he wondered what had occurred in their brief encounter.

Abruptly, he heard screaming from the room where Alexis was sleeping. He jumped out of bed as fast as he could. When he got there, she was sitting straight on the bed clearly shaken up. Drake ran to her side and held her.

“Fuck Alexis you’re trembling!” He put his arms around her shoulders.

“It’s nothing Drake, I just had a nightmare, don’t worry about me,” Alexi said, trying to smile

“Don’t worry about you?” He wiped her tears from her face. “Of course I worry about you. I hate to see you like this” He took her chin to lift her face so he could see her eyes. “Please tell me what happened.” She didn’t answer, so he placed a kiss on her front.

The only time Alexis had told someone about her attack, not only her father hadn’t believed her, but he had actually accused her of doing something to provoke Brad’s behavior. She knew she wouldn’t be able to handle disappointing Drake. If he blamed her too, she would be devasted.  

“I’m sorry Drake, I just can’t, please don’t ask. You can go back to your room now, I’m fine.”

He sighed “I can’t just leave you like this.”

The need to protect her was so strong that he couldn’t bear to leave her alone; Drake knew she was too stubborn to admit it, but she needed to talk.

“What about I make a fire downstairs? We can have a glass of whiskey, maybe watch a movie. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, O’Brien.”

“Actually a whiskey sounds good.”

“C’mere.” He gave her his hand and took her downstairs.

They sat down silently with a glass of whiskey in front of the fireplace, enjoying the warmth of the flames. It was a comfortable silence, but Drake had watched his sister have panic attacks for years after their mother left. He knew that if he could get Alexis to talk about what had caused it, it might be better for her.

He turned to look at her and went mute for a minute. She was mesmerizing under the light of the fireplace, completely unaware of how beautiful she looked. Drake cleared his throat and talked about the last person that had been with her.

“Ambassador O’Brien seems like a strict father.”

She snickered. “General Patton was strict, my father, he’s-… he’s something else.” She took a large sip of whiskey.

“What do you mean?” He stroked her arm, soothingly.

Alexis sighed sadly. “He has never loved me.” Looking at his expression she added, “it’s not something I say to feel sorry for myself. It’s a fact. It took me a long time to accept it, but I finally did.”

“O’Brien, that’s impossible.” Drake felt more things for her in a few weeks than he had never felt for anyone in his entire life. The idea of her own father not loving her seemed ridiculous.

“He told me once.” Her eyes teared up with the memory. “He said that I had embarrassed him and his name, but that he wasn’t surprised because I was my mother’s daughter after all.” She ran her hand through her hair. “God, I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this”

Drake circled her slim waist with his arm and pulled her close to him. Alexis leaned placing her head on his shoulder, as he ran his fingers through her hair. “Because I want to know.” He kissed the top of her head. “Because deep down you know you can trust me,” he paused, then added, “when did he tell you that?”

Drake was right, Alexis knew she could trust him more than anyone before, and she was tired of keeping that secret to herself. She needed to take the weight off her chest. So she told him. She told him what Brad had done that night. The pain she had felt. She told him how her mother had found the ripped, bloody dress the morning after and had shown it to her father. How furious the ambassador had been when she had admitted everything. The horrible words, the insults he had used against her blaming her for everything. As she talked, Drake tried to make her feel safe and comforted, but he could feel his rage growing at every word she said.

When she was finished, Drake felt such an immense rage, he was unable to speak. He knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that if her father or Bradford Davenport so much as talked to her again, he would kill them both.

However, the rage rapidly faded at the sight of Alexis' tears. She hated feeling that way, so vulnerable and exposed but she couldn’t help it. Drake cupped her face and wiped her tears with his fingers, kissing her forehead.

“Lexie, look at me,” he lifted her face with his fingers. “I need you to hear me. Nothing, nothing was your fault.” She didn’t answer so he kept talking. “You’re the most beautiful, strongest, most intelligent woman I have ever met. And you won’t blame yourself.” He kissed her front again. “Please tell me you don’t Lexie.” His eyes were trying to reflect on how he felt.

“Rationally? Of course, I don’t. I know what he did, I know what happened but-“ She sighed, unsure of how to continue. “But deep down, there’s a voice in my head that wonders if my father was right. I mean, if the person who is supposed to love you most in the world, thinks you’re guilty then ...”

Drake felt his fists clenching but tried to calm himself before speaking.

“Your father doesn’t deserve a daughter like you, Alexis. He’s the one who’s to blame. He should’ve protected you, defended you.” He felt his blood boil seeing her so broken, but he spoke in a deep soothing voice. “You,” he sighed stroking her face with his thumb, “you’re perfect in every possible way. And you can count on me, I will always be here to defend and protect you. Always.”

She smiled behind the tears without saying a word.

“And that’s why you had that panic attack?” He raked his fingers through her silky hair. “Something reminded you of that night?”

His concern was so real, it made her heart flutter.  She even considered telling him the truth about Brad’s presence in Lythikos, but then thought about the consequences.

“Yes, something my father said.” She gulped down the rest of her whiskey, refusing to say anything more.

“I know there’s more, but if you’re not ready to tell me, I’ll wait.” He rubbed her cheek one last time. “Tired?”

“Yes, a little.” A deep yawn confirmed her answer.

“Let’s go back to sleep.”

“Could you ...” She paused blushing. “Could you stay with me tonight? I don’t want to sleep alone.”

He smiled at her taking her between his arms. “Of course, Lexie I got you.” He held her tighter, kissing the top of her head. “I won’t let anything happen to you, you’re safe here with me.”

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Drake hadn’t slept very well the previous night. Being next to Alexis had been unsettling. When they had gotten into bed, he had held her in his arms until she had fallen asleep. The truth was that watching her so peaceful and beautiful next to him brought back all the things he had been feeling. He couldn’t deny that he was profoundly attracted to her. He desired her like he had no one else before. Everything about her, from the cherry fragrance that seemed to follow her everywhere she went, to her full lips, bright eyes and perfect body made him completely crazy. The worst part is that he knew it went much farther than the physical attraction. He had a need to protect her, to talk to her, to make her smile, that was completely alien to him. He kissed her head and turned around hoping he’d be able to ignore the fact that she was lying there, only a few inches from him.

The next morning when he opened his eyes, Drake realized she wasn’t next to him. He heard a loud Latin song playing on the speakers. When he went downstairs, he found Alexis cooking and singing in the middle of his, now chaotic, kitchen. Drake could only see her back. She was in front of the stove stirring some kind of sauce, but it was clear that her attitude was completely opposite to that of the broken woman he had seen the night before. Her hair was up in a messy bun; she was singing with a bright clear voice and moving rhythmically along to the song while she cooked. His gaze went straight to her tanned long legs barely covered by his t-shirt. Drake hadn’t seen anything so sexy before in his life.

He had to clear his throat before speaking. “Morning O’Brien.”

Alexis jumped. “Jesus Walker!  You should wear a bell.” She grinned “You almost killed me there. I’m making a Mexican breakfast,” she added pointing to the stove.

His eyes went to the pots, pans, wooden spoons, and knives that were spread all around the place. The counter was also a disaster full of tomato’s peelings and eggshells.

He smirked. “And for that, you had to destroy my kitchen?”

She feigned indignation. “That’s what I get for trying to feed you.” She looked around and laughed, “Ok, I’ll admit that it got a little messy, but in my defense, I didn’t know where you kept things. I promised you’ll enjoy it though.” She winked, and he felt like melting.

“Hah, I’ll be the judge of that O’Brien.” He was half-joking but his mouth was already watering with the savory smell of the spicy tomato sauce.

“These are huevos rancheros. Well kind off, you don’t have tortillas,” she said accusingly as she set the plates in the kitchen’s table.

“You said that like I had committed a crime”

“Well almost, who doesn’t have tortillas?” She grinned, “I used bread instead”

He had a bite and see her looking expectantly to him “So? Are they the best eggs you ever had or what?”

He grinned. “Meh, I had better”

Snickering, she took her plate away. “Perfect! More for me!”

“I’m only teasing you O’Brien, it’s amazing.” She gave him his plate back

They chatted happily while they ate, Drake serving himself two more times.

“Well, well Drake, after the second time you lose all rights to complain about the kitchen”

“Ha! Don’t look so cocky O’Brien, I haven’t cooked for you yet. We’ll see who’s having thirds then”

She laughed.

“You seem to feel better this morning,” he stated.

“Yes, I had a great night of sleep. And I think I cried enough last night. I feel much better today.” She smiled gratefully “Thanks to you.”

He smirked “Stop O’Brien you’re gonna make me blush”  

They both smiled looking at each other, after a few seconds, the stare became loaded with all the feelings they wanted to share with each other but didn’t dare yet. Alexis was the first one to look away.

“Anyway, everything happened a long time ago. I’m fine now. I’m sorry I was such a mess yesterday.”

He reached for her hand across the table and held it.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Alexis, nothing. I mean it. You don’t need to apologize for how you’re feeling, not with me”.

She gave him a small smile, running her hand through her hair. “God, I really don’t want to go back.”

Drake frowned. “If you really don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do,” she answered thinking about her father and what he would do if she ran away.

“We can stay here one day or two until you’re ready, Lexie”

She was about to refuse, but when she thought about it, it actually wasn’t a bad idea. Of course, she couldn’t hide forever, that would mean her father would carry out his threats, something she couldn’t allow. However, she could always bluff and tell him that she was not going to go back until Bradford left Cordonia.

“In fact, yes, I’d like to stay here with you a little longer, Drake. Thank you”

He tried to hide how happy her answer made him. “My sister has some clothes in her room, I’m sure they are more or less your size. Why don’t you change while I clean all of this and we can go riding later”?

“Riding? Huh …” Alexis smiled apologetically. “I don’t know how to ride. I took some lessons at the boarding school, but I fell down once, broke a leg, and never really got back in the saddle.”

“I’ll be happy to teach you. I’m sure you’ll love it” He smiled confidently.  

“Let’s make a deal, Walker” She put her chin in her fist leaning close to him “I’ll let you teach me how to ride now if you’ll let me teach you something later”

“Ha! And what will that be O’Brien” He asked arching his brows

“Where’s your sense of adventure Drake? Take it or leave it” She extended her hand.

He smirked cockily and shook it. “I’ll take it.”

Drake took Alexis to the guest room where some of Savanah’s clothes were hanging in the closet. After her shower, she decided to wear a pair of jeans, a loose t-shirt and a pair of boots. Her hair was still up, with strands of it framing her face; she wore no make-up, but Drake was still hypnotized by her beauty.

They spent the morning together cleaning the kitchen, laughing and talking, then working side by side at Drake’s studio. He was amazed at how comfortable he felt. His whole life, he had been running from that kind of intimacy but now with Alexis, he needed it. Drake wanted to know every single thing about her: what made her laugh or cry; what kind of movie she wanted to see on a Friday night; her favorite dish. Above all, he wanted to know how she felt, how her skin would taste, how she’d respond to him if he kissed her as he craved.

The ringing of his phone took him out of his thoughts. He saw who was calling and answered.

“Maxwell! Hi,” he greeted his friend. 

“Drake, thank god you answered. Liam is looking for you. I told him we were together”

“What? Why?” Drake rubbed his neck.

“I saw you leaving with little blossom last night. I really don’t want to get in the middle of whatever this is, but I thought it would be better if I could buy you some time. I don’t want you to be in trouble”

Drake laughed bitterly “I’m an adult, Maxwell. Liam can’t scold me. Lex- O’Brien wasn’t feeling right last night. She needed me, so I helped her.” Trying to rationalize it for Maxwell didn’t really help Drake’s guilt. He sighed. “You know that I’ve always put Liam’s interests first, he’s my brother, but I want to be here for Alexis, as long as she needs me to.”  

“I understand, Drake. I really do, that’s why I told him the three of us were together at Ransford. Liam will be staying with Olivia in Lythikos until the day after tomorrow”

“Thanks, Max. I’ll call him”

The call with Liam had gone fast. Drake didn’t want to go into details concerning Alexis’ past or her panic attack. It wasn’t his secret to share. And, he wanted to be honest with Liam about how he felt about Alexis but not by telephone. He knew that it would be a difficult conversation to have, especially after what Liam had told him. Drake didn’t want to lose Alexis, but he didn’t want to lose his best friend either. They agreed they were going to meet at Ramsford before the annual Beaumont Bash, two days from then.

The stables were five minutes from the house. The owner was Constantine’s old bodyguard, Bastien, who had practically been Drake’s main father figure since Jackson had died.

He greeted them warmly, happy to see Drake who hadn’t been there in months. His assistant took Alexis to the office so could borrow a pair of riding boots. Drake had his own horse but he asked Bastien for a quarter horse for Alexis.

“We have Marabell’s dream, she has an even temperament so she will be perfect to teach your friend,” Bastien said the last word knowingly.

Drake rolled his eyes “Stop it old man, she’s just a that, a friend”

At that moment Alexis entered the stables and Drake’s gaze went to her; his expression instantly softening.

Bastien looked amused and clapped his young friend in the shoulder.“Yes, son, I can see that”

After taking them to Marabelle, he left them alone.

Alexis looked happy “Wow, Drake, she’s beautiful” She patted it’s head “Hi girl! How are you doing?”

“You can see she likes you; it might sound weird to you but it’s vital to bond with the horse. To create some sort of relationship with her. You’re doing it great.”

They spent the next hour bonding with Mirabelle, feeding her and brushing her. Then Drake encouraged her to lead the horse into the paddock. Alexis was obviously a little nervous, but he could also see the excitement in her eyes. He was loving this new side of her.

He took time to explain everything about how to mount the horse, and the riding positions she needed to ensure Maribelle would feel no pain when she would be riding her.

“You have to be in control of the horse, O’Brien. She’s trusting you to lead her, to remain calm. Are you ready?”

“More than ready” She grinned “let’s go”

In the padlock, he explained how to mount Marabell, but she was having problems reaching the saddle.

He snickered “Need help there O’Brien?”

“Maybe” She smiled coyly

With his gaze locked on hers, he cut the distance between them. Drake put his left hand on her back, sending a jolt of electricity through her, and helped her up with a firm grip, so she would be able to put her foot on the stirrups. Finally, he grabbed her hips and lifted her up so she could easily sit on the saddle.

He saw her blushing, so he smirked. “Is everything ok Alexis?”

She looked him straight into his eyes and smiled flirtatiously. It was his turn to blush.

“Everything is fine here, Drake. You seem a little flustered though”

“Don’t worry about me O’Brien, I’m perfectly fine" He gave her a snarky smile. "Stop distracting me and try to make Mirabell walk”

He wasn’t surprised when the horse started walking, then galloping while Alexis remained calm. She seemed free and spontaneous, just like she had been while she was dancing with Maxwell at the ball. After three tours, Alexis stopped next to him.

“Hey, Walker. Are you and your horse going to join us or what?”

“Actually, there’s an open space behind.” He gave her a worried look. “Do you think you can handle it?”

“I’m not competing in races any time soon, but I think my girl and I can handle a little freedom.” She answered fiercely. 

Drake smiled to himself, feeling strangely proud of her.

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At the end of the ride, Drake helped Alexis off the horse. They walked back to the car talking excitedly about it. It was like the first time he had seen her. She was happy, talking with her hands, grinning widely.

When they finally reached the jeep, Drake couldn’t hold it any longer. Looking fondly at her, he stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. He could feel she was as desperate to kiss him as he was. As if she could read his thoughts, she nodded. It was all he needed, he crashed his mouth with hers, tenderly at first, then more passionately, until their tongues found each other, exploring, tantalizing. When they finally parted out of breath, Drake gave Alexis a tender kiss in her cheek and rubbed her neck longingly.

“Drake, I-, I can’t do this. Maybe we should talk” She couldn’t tell him the whole truth about how her father was threatening her, but she couldn’t bear hurting him either.

Deep down, Drake knew what was coming. Normally, he would be running in the opposite direction to protect himself, but there was something about her that kept him hooked.

He sighed “Let’s talk about it before we go to Ramsford the day after tomorrow, for now, let’s just enjoy our time together”

Back in the house, Drake offered to cook dinner while Alexis went upstairs to take a shower and change. She had found a dress in Savanna’s closet that she hoped he would like. Drake made her feel things she didn’t even know she was capable of. Of course, she had been in relationships before, but she was never really able to let go. Even after two years with Ethan, she had never felt a true connection with him. He was patient and caring, so she knew it was her fault, maybe what had happened to her as a teenager or her father’s coldness had crippled her so much that she was incapable of loving. Or so she thought until she met Drake Walker. Alexis wasn’t sure about his feelings for her, but she knew how she felt about him. It was going to kill her having to leave him two days from then. She tried to push those thoughts away, wanting to be happy for once. After she applied light makeup and put the dress on, she came down.

“Hi, Walker!”

His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. Her beautiful face lit up the room. She was wearing a tight green dress that hugged the soft curves of her body and showed her tanned shoulders; it’s skirt ended mid-thigh so he could admire her long, soft legs. His mouth went dry instantly, so he had to clear his throat before he could talk.

“Hi, O’Brien, you look…” He grinned at her. “Gorgeous”

She blushed “Thanks, Drake. So, what are we having? It smells great!”

“Well, we’re having pasta, I don’t know about you, but I don’t get fancy food.” He rolled his eyes. “That stuff was designed to impress my eyes not actually feed me.”

“Preaching to the converted” She lifted her hands

“Perfect, I can promise a full stomach and a decent conversation,” he said jokingly.

“You mean you’ll actually tell me more about yourself?” She arched her brows

He laughed. “Whatever secrets that made it this far, sure”

They sat on the table and started eating, he had made pasta and roasted chicken with a creamy tomato sauce.

“Wow, Drake this is incredible. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

He opened a bottle of whiskey and poured it into their glasses “I went backpacking through Italy some years ago before college; I loved the food, so I might’ve taken one lesson or two”

She smiled teasingly “That’s adorable”

He snickered, feigning shock. “Why? Because I’m a guy? How incredibly sexist of you! I’m very disappointed”

She let out a hearty laugh “Yeah, yeah Ruth Gainsburg. I’m sure you are” She paused to drink a sip of whiskey “Did you go by yourself or Liam go with you?”

He shook his head “No, he had a lot of obligations, so I left by myself. It was refreshing to leave the Rhys’ world for a while. All the high society and the stuffy dinner parties.”

Alexis rolled her fork into the hot spaghetti. “Mmmm, this is delicious.”

He smiled smugly. “You can always trust me with food.”

“Ha! I didn’t know you were so cocky, Walker”

“Hey, I’m just honest” he threw his hands in the air smirking “And as you can see, I didn’t have to devastate the kitchen either”

“Very funny” She rolled her eyes playfully. “You seemed very close to the owner of the stables, Bastien, right?” Alexis asked eager to know more about the brooding man in front of her. 

He downed his drink “Yes, we kind of go way back”

“Storytime” She smiled

“What is about today that has me in a sharing mood?” He looked tenderly at her.

He had rolled his shirt’s sleeves up to his elbows, so she reached his left arm and started drawing circles in it with her index. “Maybe the company?”

He hid a smile.  “It’s very possible” He rubbed her face with his free hand “So, I’ll tell you. Bastien was my father’s junior agent when he was a bodyguard, so I’d see him around pretty often. He didn’t have any family, so he came to dinner twice or three times a week. He’d even watch me and Savannah sometimes when we were younger.”

“Aww, that’s cute. How was he as a baby-sitter?”

He smiled fondly at the memory “Surprisingly lenient. The opposite of how he was while on duty. He’d let us eat chocolate chip cookies and watch cartoons all night. Him and my father were close” He served himself another glass and downed it in a gulp before speaking “And after he died and, my mother left he took it upon himself to look out for us”

Alexis could see how much that affected him “I’m sorry, Drake” She squeezed his arm

Drake was moved by her concern “Don’t worry, Alexis. It was hard but I got through it”

“Tell me more about your father”

“Tough, honest with a firm but fair way of handling things. Growing up, it seemed that there was nothing he couldn’t do”

She smiled emphatically “You really looked up to him, didn’t you?”

He threaded a hand through his hair “Yeah, if Savannah idolized the Rhys’ and their lifestyle, I idolized my father and his team of bodyguards” He paused pensive “My dad died, and my mother went back to the States. She was unable to cope with his death and take care of her own children. Bastien was as present as he could, and I’m sure he was the one that convinced Constantine to take us in”

“And you never thought of leaving? I know how much you hate politics”

“I actually did for a while. I wanted to be a vet, and I knew Constantine would never pay for that so I got a scholarship for a school in London. I had decided to build a life away from the Rhys’. Constantine was pissed that I didn’t follow his wishes and did everything to keep me away from Liam’s and the other’s lives”

She was intrigued “What happened for you to give that up?”

“Well, there was an assassination attempt against the ex-president’s family, including Liam. He was very shaken, so Leo asked me to come back for him. I did but I lost the scholarship, so I ended up majoring in Political Science,” he shrugged. “Just as Constantine wanted”

“Drake, that is completely unfair.”

“I did it for Liam too. When I saw how things were going to be for him in politics, I decided to stay and help him. Liam is an excellent politician and he truly cares about his people’s well-being but he’s an idealist. He needs someone cynical like me to have his back” He stared at his glass lost in his thoughts.

She looked at him softly taking his hand “I don’t think you’re as cynical as you pretend”

Catching Drake off-hand, Alexis tilted her head up and gave him a sweet kiss.

His heart jumped. “O’Brien … you’re full of surprises tonight.”

“And I’m not done Walker, I seem to remember you owe me something.”

He looked surprised “I have no idea what you’re talking about Alexis.”

She arched her brows standing up. “Oh really? Don’t you remember you agreed I could teach you something?” She stood up a few inches from him and gave him her hand, he stood up as well.

“What are you up to? You look like the cat that ate the canary, O’Brien”

She stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I let you teach me how to ride, and now is my turn to teach you how to dance salsa.”

He burst out laughing. “That’s not happening in a million years, Alexis.”

“What? I thought you respected your word.” She feigned indignation. “You shook my hand, Drake. That’s a binding contract between honorable people, you know?” She smiled so flirtatiously he was done.

“I must be drunk and crazy.” He rolled his eyes.

“You won’t regret it!” She winked “Wait here.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” he muttered to himself

She looked for a song on the computer. “Procura” started to play in the speakers

Procura seducirme muy despacio Y no reparo de todo lo que en el acto te haré

She stood up a few inches from him and saw he was blushing, and rubbing his neck.

“My, my! Is big bad Drake scared of a little dancing?” She placed a kiss on his cheek. “Just relax, put your hands around me.”

Convenga que te alejes quizás me domina la tentación de imaginar Que estoy tan cerca de ti Tan cerca sin poder resistir

He put his hand in the small of her back and pulled her to his chest grinning. “I might be starting to like this dancing after all.”

She smiled widely sticking her tongue out “Ok, the first thing is to really feel the music, and don’t roll your eyes Walker, I’m watching you”

“Ha! You got me there” He smiled mischievously “But, you know what? It might help a lot if I see you doing it first.”

“Riiiiight.” She arched her brows grinning but took two steps back dancing to the music.

Drake watched her completely mesmerized

Procura coquetearme más y no reparo de lo que te haré. Procura ser parte de mi y te aseguro que me hundo en ti.

She locked her eyes on him with a coquettish smile brightening her face. Her hips were swaying hypnotically, letting her body react to the music. Drake wouldn’t have been able to move if an earthquake demolished his house.  After a few seconds of watching her move, Drake’s endurance reached its limit when she smiled at him biting her bottom lip. He knew at that second that he was done.

He took a step forward and spun her so her back was pressed against his chest. His right hand moved her hair to one side of her neck leaving it exposed to his mouth. He smiled against her skin when he felt her breath hitching. “You’re driving me insane” He whispered then ravaged her neck, alternating between little bites and kisses.

When he heard a soft moan, he spun Alexis again and pinned her against the wall. She put her hands around his waist as he cupped her face and watched her longingly, trying to absorb every line, every feature of hers. After a few seconds, he placed a kiss on her upper lip, her bottom lip, one corner of her mouth, and then the other until finally, he kissed her entirely, both their tongues pressing each other passionately. Alexis kissed him as she had never kissed anyone before; she could feel every part of herself melting to him. His hands ran all over her back and neck until he pulled away, suddenly remembering their conversation of the night before.

He tenderly brushed her face with his thumb “Are you ok, Lexie?

She almost gasped her answer. “Yes,” She blushed but looked at him straight into his eyes. “I want you, Drake.”

He kissed her forehead. “I just want you to be sure about this, baby.”

Alexis took his face and pulled him into a passionate kiss “Is this sure enough for you?”

He chuckled. “I can think of a better place to be doing this. Wait here”

“Uhm, ok” She looked confused

“I just want to make this special for you” He kissed her again then went upstairs for a few minutes. When he came back, he took her hand and lead her to his room.

“Am I allowed to look now?” She asked sheepishly

“Come on in”

When she did, she was so moved she couldn’t say a word.

The entire room was lit by candles that Drake had placed everywhere; it was like being in an oasis where no one else existed. Drake closed the door, as he joined her inside. When she turned back to him, Alexis realized he had been holding his breath.

She approached him and kissed him deeply.

“Fuck, O’Brien you’re going to be the death of me”. With one hand he reached to stroke her cheek. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper as he took in the sight of her in the candlelight.

“I have to ask one more time, Lexie” He kissed her cheek “Are you really sure about this?”

She nodded kissing his neck

“I need you to say it, baby”

“I spent too much time being careful, Drake. I want this, I want you” Her already dark eyes went almost black, the sight of them sent a flood of heat rushing through his back.

In an instant, his hands were around her waist, and his lips were pressed against hers in an urgent kiss. He lowered to pepper her shoulders and then her neck with kisses, producing a wave of heat looping in her core. He stopped to watch her: she was gasping, her cheeks were a pink-red, her lips were swollen, and he had never seen anything more beautiful. He knew right then, that he wanted to take his time, get to know every corner of her. Drake gently lifted her arms above her head and pulled her dress up, leaving her on her white underwear, the sight almost too much for him.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous” He took her in his arms and carried her to his bed, laying her down delicately.

“You’re a goddess, Alexis” He grazed the skin of her neck with his fingers. “You deserve to be worshipped.” He put his hand on her back and unclasped her bra, carefully taking down one strap, then the other, while he kissed both shoulders, finally taking it off and leaving her breasts naked.

“I want to kiss every single part of you” She gasped as he put her right bud on his mouth and start licking it softly while he brushed the other with his thumb. As he kissed her, she tried to undo his shirt’s buttons but was incapable of concentrating. The delicious feeling, he was giving her was too intense to think of anything else.  He smiled against her skin and stood up to take it off over his head, she sat on the bed and ran her hands through his abs, every touch of her soft hands building a fire inside of him.

“God, you’re hot Drake” A desperate need for him consumed her, she undid his belt, pulling down his pants while he caressed her cheek. Her fingers toyed with the waistband of his boxers teasing him, until she took them off, and kissed his hard dick, licking its tip, putting it on her mouth. Drake let out a groan knowing that he wouldn’t last long if she continued, so he leaned against her, until she was lying on her back, again. He kissed her breasts again and again, then brushed his lips around her waist and her stomach, while his hands rubbed her legs.

“You’re so soft” his fingers stroking her around her core, and over her silky underwear until she felt like she was on fire.

She moaned. “Drake, please”

“Please, what Lexie?” He groaned “Tell me what you want, baby”.  She tried to talk but was unable to form any words. He kissed her waistband, gently tugging her underwear off, until she was completely naked under him.

He swallowed hard, drinking her in. “You are so damn gorgeous, no words do you justice.”

He left a trail of kisses from her stomach to her thighs, circling her warm core. Suddenly, his hands were all over her body, caressing her breasts, stroking her neck, moving in slow tantalizing circles, sending shivers down her spine until he reached the little bundle of nerves at her center.

“Fuck, you’re so wet Lexie. You’re making me crazy”

“Drake…” She moaned his name again and again while he rubbed her with his thumb softly, almost tenderly at first, then more and more urgently until he felt her writhe beneath him. He didn’t take his eyes off of her, hypnotized by her reactions, her little gestures, her soft moans, and gasps. He pressed his lips against hers while he struck her faster and she became undone under his kisses.

“Wow, Drake that was” She panted “That was…uhm” She couldn’t find the words to describe all the things she was feeling.

Drake smirked “Yes?”

She laughed against his chest, then pulled his neck to press her lips to his’. He felt an instant twitch in his dick and felt heat pooling in his stomach watching her under him with a satisfied smile on her beautiful face. His need for her became overwhelming.

He kissed her hungrily and grasped her waist to position her beneath him, teasing her center with the tip of his impossibly hard cock.

He outstretched his arms to steady himself; and despite his deep desire to enter her, he took a minute to watch her beneath him, with her hands around his neck, her eyes dark with lust. He kissed her fervently trying to memorize every single second of that moment. Finally, it was too much and he had to claim her. He entered her carefully, peppering her neck and breasts with kisses.

“God, Drake you’re huge”

He couldn’t help a cocky smile “It’s ok Lexie I got you” He kissed her and entered her a little more, giving her time to adjust to him.

He groaned “Fuck, baby you feel amazing. You’re so tight”

He started to rock against her without taking his eyes off of her, moving slowly, teasing her, then picking up speed as he heard her breath catch. She was completely lost on him, her eyes closed and her mouth repeating his name over and over. Drake knew that he would do anything to hear his name falling out of her lips like that again.

He lowered himself to her earlobe to whisper “Open your eyes my Lexie, I need to see you. Show me those beautiful eyes.” His words made her shiver.

She was far gone in the pleasure she was feeling but eager to please him, she opened her eyes. “That’s my girl” He kissed her neck “I want to see your face when you come in my arms for the first time”. He thrust faster sending a jolt of electricity to her core.

“Drake…god please don’t stop”

He kissed her again “Never”

He slid his hand between them to rub the little nub at her core, as he increased his pace. He was at the edge too.

“Let go, baby, come for me”. He locked his eyes in hers.  

She felt warmth rise up from her center, up her belly, up her chest. “God Drake I can feel you everywhere inside of me”

He groaned and watched her while she started shaking. She felt like she was being washed and taken over by a wave of energy. Drake had absolute control over her body. She had never felt anything remotely similar.

“Fuck Drake” The sensation of her walls pulsating around him, her cherry scent all over the room and his name on her lips sent Drake over the edge too

He growled her name “Alexis” He kissed her in a desperate kiss ‘My Alexis” He grunted until he filled her completely.

Drake stayed upright a few seconds, kissing her face, before falling into the bed. He pulled her into his chest, both of them enjoying silently coming down from their high.

He held her tightly, kissing the top of her head, stroking her back, incapable of stop touching her.

“A penny for your thoughts, O’Brien”

She looked at him through her eyelashes, smiling.

“I was just thinking about how perfect this was. You’re amazing” She stroked her chiseled abs with her hand.

He turned around laying Alexis in her back, with his right arm steadying himself and the left hand rubbing her cheek. He cupped her face and leaned to kiss her deeply.

“It’s not me, Lexie, it’s us. It’s the things you make feel when I see you because you’re so damn gorgeous. You have no idea what you do to me. I-“ He looked at her softly, brushing her nose, her cheeks and her mouth with his thumb, not saying the only thing he wanted to say.

He laid down on one side pulling her body against his. “Good night baby”

“Good night, Drake”

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

Ambassador George O’Brien wasn’t a patient man. And he sure wasn’t a man that people would threat easily. He wasn’t used to anyone contradicting him or ignoring his orders. That’s why he had been so furious that morning, after Alexis’ text, telling him she wouldn’t rejoin the campaign unless Bradford left the country. He wasn’t going to let that go.

George told his assistant to send the private eye to his office.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Salas. I called you because I need you to look for my daughter. The money is not a problem. Just find her and bring her back as soon as possible, whatever it takes”

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 16

*~*Sebastian*~*

I really should be given a lot of credit for how long I stayed away from Emma.

Day one I couldn't stop holding her hand. Day two I had to touch her. Day three all I want to do is hold her. Well, not all I want.

Since I woke up with her in my arms there's a part of my brain constantly on the look out for how to get her back there. I have to admit I’m not super confident because my brain has failed me numerous times in trying to figure out kissing her. Had it helped me out with the kissing I wouldn't be so fucking desperate to hold her. Probably wouldn't be talking so much to myself either, but that isn't really unusual. Maybe just different topics.

My mom is having fun with this. I'm not always translating everything she says. She told me Emma was beautiful and she understood why I hadn't come home. She told me I had to work for at least an hour before I could see her. Then she sent her to the opposite side of the house from me and stood guard across the hall.

When I was "allowed" to see Emma again I scared the shit out of her. It was fucking hilarious. When I grabbed her into my arms I held her head against my chest so maybe she wouldn't know I couldn't stop laughing. I couldn’t stop laughing until she ran her hands down my back. It was the same barely there sensual touch that went from my shoulder diagonally down and around to the side of my stomach. I closed my eyes to enjoy it and imagined it didn't stop there. So when she led me into the guest room, a room with a bed, it took every ounce of self-control in my body not to throw her on the bed and cover her with me.

The picture snapped me out of those thoughts. It had been years since I’d seen it. It was full of happy memories of a good time in an otherwise gray period. I wasn't old enough and I think mom shielded me from much. She tried to make whatever food we got something fun for us to build meals around. It wasn’t that we didn’t have food. We didn’t have a lot and we didn’t have choices. We played a form of bingo with what we'd get. Meat, dairy, and fruit were coveted. Except that one weird cheese that we got every six weeks or so. Nothing made it not horrible.

I can't remember telling any other girlfriend about how the beach in a communist country taught me freedom and curiosity that culminated in me being in a NASA movie. Coolest thing ever. Now I’m in the guest room telling secrets I barely remember. Frightening secrets for a kid. There's really no way to escape that without carry some things with you. I don't talk much about Romania because I don’t remember much, but what I do remember I don’t really want to talk about. I wonder if my mom planted the picture for me to share a happy memory.

I dropped Emma off at the kitchen and went back to the family room. Anthony and I headed out to the garage to find a couple of things he knew were missing from the room. Back inside we started arranging things. The kitchen wasn't far away. Every so often I'd catch words or a sentence. They were talking about winters and snow removal. I listened closer when mom asked where and how long she'd lived here. Nothing I didn't know. As Emma explained where her place was, she told mom about local shops and answered questions about the area. Very sweet.

Meanwhile in the family room we got things arranged based on where the TV hung on the wall and came to the realization it was all wrong. I yelled for mom. Emma followed her into the room. Mom looked around, "This is all wrong."

A ridiculous amount of time later we'd rearranged everything. The only thing left was for me to move the TV and rewire everything. I'd be an expert by the time we were done. Mom suggested a break and went to get beers.

I flopped onto the couch and when it looked like Emma was going to sit too far away, I grabbed her hand to pull her closer. Damn near landed her in my lap. Wouldn't have been a bad thing. I recreated the scene from the bench last night with my arm around her shoulder and her holding my hand. That left each of us with a free hand for beer. Emma turned a little where she was leaned against me and laid her head back on my shoulder. I buried my nose in her hair, breathing her in until mom brought back beer.

I doubt this was what Emma had in mind when I suggested she come with me. Mom and Anthony were talking so I gave Emma's shoulders a squeeze to get her attention. "Not much of a rest day for you. I'm feeling selfish. I wanted to spend more time with you.” I was coming clean. I wasn't going to apologize because that would be a lie.

She smiled, a sweet almost shy smile, that made my stomach flutter. "I wanted to spend more time with you too." Her smile tuned to a smirk, "So don't suggest taking me home unless you're ready for me to leave. I'm enjoying myself."

"No problem."

Mom's voice broke the moment, "Emma, have you had Romanian food? We were thinking dinner and a movie. If my son gets the TV hooked up."

"You've just given me motivation, mom."

I felt Emma laugh more than heard her. "No, I haven't and sounds great. Thank you."

Anthony stood up, "Let's get back at it."

Mom excused Emma from the kitchen after Anthony and I got the TV sorted. He went to his office. Mom stayed in the kitchen and I got an assistant for hanging shit and putting up books. There were an obscene number of books. Thankfully they were sorted into boxes in a way that made alphabetizing them by author not so much a pain in the ass. The ease with which Emma alphabetized the titles within each author was super hero like. My job was to hand them to her. By the respectful way she handled them I knew she loved books. She took a stack from me, "Do you like to read?"

I nodded, "I've read most of these. I’ve always liked to read. I do a lot of reading to research characters.”

"Like what?"

I went with the most obvious. "For the Winter Soldier and Bucky I read a lot about psychopaths and PTSD. They’re really two different characters, maybe four.. True crime procedural stuff for Destroyer. Way more space shit than I needed for the Martian. Loved the book."

"Do you prefer non-fiction to fiction?"

"Pretty equal. I'm usually reading a couple of books at a time. I switch back and forth. I love Harlan Coben from before they were making his books movies. Have you read anything of his?"

Her eyes shifted up as she thought. "The one that was a French film. His wife dies then like ten years later he gets a message."

At the same time we said, "Tell No One."

I continued, "Loved that one. He writes lots of those thriller mysteries and has a series about a detective. Lots of humor and his best friend is a millionaire sociopath. Those are fun. Always reread classics and my favorite novel is changing all the time. A lot of mindfulness, Buddhism."

Her eyes lit up, "Have you read Illusions by Richard Bach?"

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"It was written in the seventies. We passed it around in college. Once you read it you had to buy a copy, highlight some of your favorite bits and give it away. Basically, a Messiah is training his replacement. He gives him a handbook only the pages are empty, except when he opens it, he finds answers."

"I think you can do that with anything. Even a newspaper." This was turning into another one of those great conversations like music and movies. I knew it would.

She was nodding quickly, "Me too. It is full of short insights. My favorite is "You're never given a wish without the power to make it come true. You might have to work on it, however." It's a faux Christian eastern religion self-help novel."

I laughed, "That's great."

"Yeah, we'd get high at frat parties and talk in Illusion and movie quotes." She snorted laugh.

"Did you break into the pantry for snacks like we did?"

"Of course. Always cheese."

I was amused by the thought of Emma as a grunge loving stoned psuedo intellectual. Made me remember my days as an 80's music loving stoned theater major space nerd. College was fun.

Back to books. "What's your guilty pleasure reading?"

"This is my Jessie's Girl." We shared a smile. "I love paranormal romance."

"Paranormal romance? "I repeated." Ghosts and shit?"

"Oh no. Vampires, dragons, shapeshifters."

I couldn't hide my smile, "Way worse than Jessie's Girl."

She glared at me, "It's close."

Her glare turned to a smile then a laugh and I had to hug her. I wanted to hold on to the moment, take in how much fun this was. The conversation, the teasing. She felt like an old friend I'd just met. Only with a lot more sexual attraction. The kind that had me noticing how every curve of her body was pressed against me. Had me wanting to run my hands on top of her clothes before moving underneath them. Wishing she'd slide her hand under my shirt so I could feel her touch my skin.

I took a step back, "Hit me with the details."

She laughed again, "There's two series I love. Some variation of a testosterone filled alpha male who thinks he's rescuing a woman who ends up being his soulmate and saves him. One is grounded is Greek mythology and finding his mate can literally free his soul and the other creates its own mythology. One or both always have a heartbreaking past, there's something they have to go through, and then the happy ending. They're well written and incredibly satisfying."

"Do you believe in that?"

She drew her eyebrows together, "Happily ever after?"

I shook my head, "Soulmates."

Emma looked at the ceiling, screwed up her face, then looked back at me. "The chickenshit answer is people come into our lives for a reason and go away when they’ve served their purpose."

I wasn't so sure. "Not necessarily chickenshit."

"I meant the safe answer.” She bit her lip and continued, “I do believe in soulmates. But I don't think there's necessarily one person for anyone. A soulmate a twenty might be different than a soulmate at forty. People change and grow, so it makes sense your perfect partner might not stay perfect. You can grow together or grow in different directions.  I'm a hopeful romantic."

I liked that. "I think some people use the concept of soulmate to not work for it. It takes a lot of work and vulnerability to be with another person. Hell, to be with yourself. It's hard to be honest with yourself sometimes, forget about laying yourself bare to another person." I shook my head, not believing the strange direction this had gone. "I'm not always that brave."

We'd gone from laughter to this intensely intimate place. I'm talking about how difficult it can be to be vulnerable, which is a very vulnerable thing to do. Maintaining eye contact was hard.

"Everyone struggles with being brave.”

The matter of fact way she spoke reminded me of the gym when we were talking about insecurities. This was the second time I’d shared something and she didn’t try to convince me I was wrong. She accepted what I’d said as true for me. She’d accepted me. Well, now, there’s a thing. I smiled. “I think it’s about finding someone you’re ok being afraid with and is brave enough to be afraid too."

Slowly she started to smile, “Awfully deep conversation we’re having.”

“No shit! How the fuck did we get here?”  I shook my head and laughed. “I think we were talking about Jessie’s Girl.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” She joined in laughing before learning forward to lay her forehead on my shoulder.

I put my hand on the back of her neck and leaned my head against hers.

[blushingjared]

Fake It Till You Make It

Fake It Till You Make It (Dean x Reader)

Square(s) Filled: Case Fic for @spnkinkbingo and Case Fic for @spndeanbingo Ship: Dean x Reader Character: Dean, Reader, OMC, Sam, Reader’s Parents (briefly) Rating: Mature Warnings: Kidnapping, Canon typical violence, implied smut at the end, Major Injury to the Reader, Death of Parents Word Count: 3.9K Beta’d by: @focusonspn and @moonlitskinwalker

We Get What We Deserve Masterlist

Summary: When Dean shows up to get information on a case, things start to get further out of control for your perfect world.

A/N: Let me know if you want to be tagged in my SPN Kink Bingo Series

Work today had been hell. Nothing you baked was coming out right. Even when you followed every recipe to the exact detail, it seemed that today was not your day. In fact, the whole weekend had been particularly bad. You pushed a stray hair out of your face and did your best to stock up the front of the bakery with the best looking items from your stockpile of goods.

Your parents had cut back your hours once again, worried that your time at the shop were cutting into your studies. There had been multiple occasions where you had attempted to tell your parents that your classes weren’t the least bit strenuous. The shop needed as much help as possible. It seemed a bit ridiculous but your parents only wanted the best for you.

While most 19 year olds wanted to move out of their parents house the first chance they got, you stuck around. The small town you grew up in for your entire life was home; it felt wrong to leave. So you took a couple community classes and worked in your parents bakery. Most people wouldn’t have felt fulfilled, but you did.

To top it all off, your boyfriend had called you to cancel your date that you’d been planning all week for. An amazing romantic dinner at both of your favorite restaurant. Matthew had apologized profusely and promised that tomorrow he would be free. Tonight he was just busy at the office.

You were sure that, someday when you were both secure, you and Matt would get married, settle down and have a couple of kids when the both of you were more secure and then have a couple kids. Nothing was wrong with never wanting to leave the place you called home. You knew almost everyone's name.

You had no wishes to live an extraordinary life.

The bell rang above the door, where your Family’s name was written beautifully, singling that someone had come into your store and it pulled you out of your thoughts. A plastic smile graced your lips as you lifted yourself up and faced the customer. Your hands instinctively dropped down to your apron to brush some of the flour off. Something irritated your face and it felt a bit like flour or icing, but you ignored it. Although, nothing could have prepared you for the man that was about to enter your shop.

“Hi Miss sorry to bother you.” The man had a gorgeous smile that he eagerly flashed to you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Are the owners around? I’ve got a few questions for them.” He reached into the interior pocket of his trench coat, presenting his FBI Badge.

Words escaped you for the longest time, instead, trying to comprehend what a beautiful man like him was doing as an FBI agent. Surely, he could have been a model or some kind of actor. His bright green eyes shone beautifully in the evening sun, the freckles becoming prominent on his golden skin. Your inner thoughts were becoming something from a cheesy romance novel, but this “Dean”, as his badge listed, looked like a man fresh off the cover of one.

After no response from you, Dean cleared his throat to try and get your attention once more. “Miss? Are you ok?” He tilted his head in worry and the repeated question got to you.

“Oh, um, yes. I’m fine, thank you. Sorry.” You returned his gentle smile and decided to step out from behind the counter. You pulled the dirty apron off of your body and  set it against the top of the counter. “The owners aren’t here right now. They’re at home. I can give you their phone number though.”  God, you felt so ashamed for objectifying the poor man.

Dean tilted that pretty head of his in confusion. “They let a teenager run the store?”

While technically true, the statement still irked you. Being young doesn’t equal being childish. Your head cocked to the side as your hand went to your hip. “I’m 19, sir. Twenty in a couple months. I am an adult.”

Dean rolled his eyes at your statement and you inwardly regretted it realising it sounded like something an angry teen would say. It was too late to take it back now.

“Good on you, kid, but I still need to talk to them. You don't have a home address at all?” Dean slipped his hands into his pockets as he tried his best not to sound annoyed. Information was still needed from you, but kids tended to prey on anything showing weakness. Like exhaustion.

“Yeah. I’m heading there in an hour to bring the cash to them. Do you think you could wait that long?” Giving the address would have been easy, but you were getting him back for calling you a kid.

“Fuck me.” Dean sighed, more to himself than to you, and tipped his head back before taking a deep breath. “Can’t you just write it down or something? I don’t have time to wait.”

“I don’t know you. You could be a murderer for all I know.” It was a joke in all honesty, but it must have touched on something personal because he turned his head to you, his forehead creased in confusion before you clarified. “I just mean, I’d rather play it safe and go with you ok? I’m headed up there anyways.”

“Yeah, fine.” Something beeped, prompting Dean to pull his phone from his pocket. “I’ll be back, ok?” He asked even though he didn’t stay for your answer as he walked out of the shop.

“Okay..” You wondered if some of your food would cheer him up, make him less grumpy. He was cute when he was grumpy though.

Clicking the green answer button on his phone, Dean lifted the thing up to his ear. The voice of his younger brother came through. “What’s going on Sammy?” Dean’s frown stayed plastered on his face. When he thought you’d turned away, he turned himself and looked back inside to watch you work for a moment. “Are we digging any info up on this Matt, guy?”

Sam clenched his jaw before huffing out, “We are not doing any digging. I’m the one going to find the insane witch. All you have to do is find his girlfriend.” Dean shrugged.

“If it’s any consolation, this kid at the shop her parents own is giving me a hard time. She’d only take me to Y/N’s parents if she went with me. Said I could be a murderer.” Dean paused as he scratched his head. “What does she know anyways?”

Something tapped against the glass and it caught Dean off guard just as Sam was saying something. Dean dropped his phone in surprise and turned around, pleasantly surprised to find you standing in front of the large glass window with a slice of pie on a plate.

You smiled, pointing down to it and then to Dean. “Damn,” he groaned as he looked from it and then back to you. He held up a single finger to indicate he needed a minute. If it wasn’t for Sam’s  currently annoying voice calling out through the speaker, he’d have gone inside.

“Damn it Dean, just hang up if you’re gonna ignore me. God..” Before Dean could get a word out, the call ended just as Dean picked the phone up from the sidewalk. He groaned, promising to call Sam back later and decided to go in and get the pie he’d been promised.

You sat across from the slice at one of the small tables off to the sides. Dean liked how the bakery looked like one from the fifties. Something you’d only see in Hallmark movies and Disney parks. “I wanted to apologize for calling you a murderer. I shouldn’t have.” A small blush formed on your cheeks as you ducked your head.

It reminded Dean of a toddler that stole a cookie from the jar but couldn’t lie about it when asked what they’d done. An astounding amount of innocence radiated off of you and it made Dean feel guilty for checking you out. Well, almost guilty.

“Don’t worry kid. You’re right to not trust strangers anyways.” Taking the fork from the table, Dean started to dig in to what looked like cherry pie. It was pretty fucking good. Not the best, but up there. You liked the way he smiled as he ate your pie, even if today hadn’t been your best baking day. At least he enjoyed it.

“So, what’s an FBI agent doing here? Some super secret spy mission?” Both elbows rested on the table, your chin resting in the palms of your hands. “I can’t remember the last time we’ve had a death in the town that wasn’t from natural causes. I can’t imagine what you’d be looking for.”

Dean stayed suspiciously quiet as he chewed on the dessert, only shrugging at your question. “Can’t talk about it, sorry sweetheart.” He hadn’t bothered to swallow his food and so his teeth were coated in cherry pie filling. It looked ridiculous on him, only adding to the growing pile of reasons you couldn’t believe that he was an FBI agent.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a good ten minutes before a couple in their mid-thirties walked in. You left Dean alone to go serve them the last slices of cheesecake and make a fresh pot of coffee. Patrons would come in and out, never more than a couple at a time though and once the clock struck 10 pm you turned the sign to closed and started the routine on locking up. You checked the back and locked up, cleaned a few counters and then grabbed the cash and placed it into the lock box.

Just as you went to let Dean know you’d finished up, Matt’s name flashed on your phone. He was calling you, confusion made your brows furrow. You answered none the less.

“Hey babe. What’s up?” You smiled as he called you that, Matt’s voice calmed you.

“Not much. How’s work going?” Dean stood up and walked towards you. He frowned as he saw that you were on the phone.

“I just wanted to check in. I wanna see you so bad..” He trailed off. His voice sounded out of breath and you could hear…was Matt running?

“Matt? You ok? It sounds like you’re running-“

“Get back here Matt! Let her go!” A gruff voice called out. The phone call ended before you had a chance to respond.

“Alright. Can we go now?” Dean asked, he tilted his head at you. Motioning towards the door.

“Yup!”  Your voice hid any bit of confusion that you had in regards to your boyfriend’s phone call. The door of the bakery being held open for you as the two of you walked down main street, gasping as Dean grabbed your arm and pulled you toward an older black muscle car. “What’re you doing, Dean?”

“I’m driving us. Got a problem with that?” You didn’t, you just didn’t like the way he had manhandled you in the process. Eyes wide and lips parted, he ignored the cute look of surprise you gave him. Dean grinned as you slid into the car, glad he didn’t have to argue with you about it.

80’s rock music that only your father listened to played through the cars speakers. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he hummed in tune with the music. Every so often you would give him directions to your house, well “your bosses’ house” but he hadn’t bothered to even ask your name yet.

Dean’s head turned to face you, “Can I ask you something?” He watched as you turned your head to face the older man. “You know anybody in town named Matthew Green? They live here in town?”

Why was he asking about Matt? What did the FBI want with your Boyfriend?

“Not that I know of.” The answer hung in the air as silence once again fell between you two. You were suspicious of why Dean would be asking about Matt? What could Matt have possibly done? Not long after, Dean felt into his comfort zone by humming with the music.

Your house appeared just beyond the horizon, you could already see your mother sitting on the porch swing, working through whatever book her book club was currently reading. The light from the kitchen shone through the window, your father’s shadow moving around, likely cooking up dinner.

Dean pulled into the driveway and cut the engine off, you stepped out to walk ahead of Dean to greet your mom. Your mother’s lips pursed in question as you sat down with her. “Who’d you get a ride from, Y/N? A new friend?” A blush crept up onto your entire face and you did your best to hide it as Dean made his way to the porch. Turning your head you walked towards him.

“Y/N Y/L/N, don’t be rude. Introduce your new friend.” Shock coated Dean’s features, Jesus Christ.

“Y/N?” He repeated your name. It took all you had in you not to ask him to say your name again. Never before had your name sounded so good coming from someone’s mouth. “You didn’t tell me your name was Y/N.” Anger punched through him and into you. You didn’t understand.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t ask what my name was either.” The two of you stared at each other but before Dean could fire back your father popped his head out the kitchen window. “Y/N? Is your new friend staying for dinner?”

Whatever answer you would have given didn’t matter because your mom answered for you. “Course he is, you two go wash up.” Dean simply gave you and your family a tense smile before heading into the house behind you.

“Y/N. I really need to talk to you alone.” He implored you. Without much warning, he pushed the two of you into the small bathroom of your house. Your upstairs brain told your downstairs brain to shut up and realize that Dean was most likely 3 times your size and could easily over power you any time he wanted. His hand came out to rest against the edge of the sink. “I know..I know this is going to sound nuts but you’ve got to listen to me. That Matthew Green I asked you about? Well, he’s..he’s coming after you.”

Dean’s words made you laugh more than anything. You shook your head and leaned against the door. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Laughter was bubbling up inside your throat but you did your best to suppress it.

Dean knew you weren’t taking him seriously, so he let his eyes narrow and his jaw set as he answered you. “He created this town, he created a fake family for you, he created this picture perfect place for you.”

“Why is the FBI investigating this anyways?”

“I’m not actually apart of the FBI, Y/N. Me and my brother help people. People like you, people in danger.”

“I’m not in danger. Matt’s my boyfriend ok! He’s a great guy. I’m sorry but I think you should go.” Pain shot up your wrist as Dean grabbed onto it, hard.

“How long have you two been dating?” You rolled your eyes and went to answer. The words six months died on your lips as Dean let go.

“Six months? Really? That’s an awfully long time for someone your age to be in a relationship.” Your eyes shifted around the room.

“He’s older than me, has a full time job…” Dean narrowed his eyes.

“And your first date?”

“Well, it went terribly. He was rude and inconsiderate and I wasn’t going to have a second date but he called me and,” your memories feel fuzzy as you thought back on what happened just six months ago. You could only remember that first date and then everything felt fuzzy. Right up until Dean walked into the store.

“And what Y/N? Can’t remember? Feels like a dream?”

Sure he had lied to you about being FBI (you totally called that though), but something about what he said made you believe him. The town…it didn’t sit with you. You shook your head because of course the relationship was real, your parents were totally real and so was your town. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why..why would he do something like that? I’m nothing special. Besides! If this isn’t real how are you here?”

Dean rubbed over his jaw as he replied honestly. “I know how to get into dreams. It’s a special drink that allows us to share dreams. Now look, this whole fake dreamland is nice and all sweetheart, but I need you to come with me. ‘Cause that’s all this is, the fantasy of some witch.”

A soft knocking on the door interrupted you. “Y/N? What’s taking so long? Are you gonna come out now?” Your mother’s soft voice penetrating through the door. “Wouldn’t wanna eat dinner cold..”

“Mom just give me a minute.” Your voice shook as you answered her. Her voice sounded off, cheery in an almost too cheery sort of way. Suddenly everything was becoming claustrophobic and Dean was only making it worse by moving closer.

“I need you to trust me ok?” Dean had his hand extended to you, just as you went to take it, the bathroom door opened. Instead of your mom outside, Matt stood in front of you two.

“Matt? What-“

“What am I doing here? Well, I knew something was wrong when that brother of yours,” He turned his gaze from you to Dean, “started chasing me and shooting at me. I just had to get away from work to check on you, princess.” The nickname was sour and only now did you notice the blood on his pressed, white shirt and his khaki pants.

Fear made your stomach sink as he tugged you outside of the bathroom and into the kitchen. Horror replaced that when you saw both your parents, dead, blood covering the white tiles.

“N-no! Mo-Mom!” You sobbed. Dean tried his best but an invisible force shoved Dean roughly against the wall. Tears quickly sprung to your eyes as you tried and failed to pull away from Matt. “Please..Please just let me go. I..I’ll stay with you.” The words didn’t seem to sate him, his hand gripping on harsh enough to leave bruises of his fingertips into your skin. Matt was pissed and just as he was going to leave your home, in rushed another man. Taller than Dean, he silently looked around from you to his brother and then back to you.

Matt sighed as another invisible force sent this man back. Dean was finally picking himself up. “Nice to see you made it, Sammy.”

“Shut up, Dean.” That must have been Dean’s brother that he mentioned. They sure were doing a good job on saving you. The two brothers pushed themselves up. Matt turned his attention to Sam.

“I was so sure I lost you back there.” He smiled and brought your back to his chest, helplessly you felt the tip of a knife against your throat. Dean stepped towards you and it only made Matt press the thing harder against your neck.

You screamed, not caring if you looked weak for being scared about all this. “Just leave us alone!” Matt cried. “Can’t you see we’re happy?” He asked. Dean’s eyes never left yours, it did it’s job in making you feel calm. You had to calm down…calm down and think.

“It’s not real Matt. This isn’t the real Y/N and you know that.” Sam stepped closer, only causing Matt to drag you backwards.

“We had a good first date! I call and ask what I did wrong and she tells me I was rude. Called her fat, and insulted her interests.” Matt’s voice was getting louder and each word unlocked memories. They seemed so real, fresh, like they’d just happened. “I try everything and tell her she just misunderstood but she wouldn’t believe me. If she’d just believed me-“ Anger replaced the fear that you had felt as you stomped on his foot. It  was enough of a distraction to pull away from him.

Dean smiled in surprise and extended his hand and just as your fingers brushed over his, pain washed over you. So much pain that it crippled you to the floor on your hands and knees. Sound became muted and you lost a grip on what was happening. Matt was so shocked by what he’d done to you that Dean was able to raise his gun and shoot him. The guy probably didn’t even notice.

Your hand moved behind your back to feel the knife that had been in Matt’s hands now lodged into your back. “O-Oh..” If this was all really just a dream, it sure didn’t seem like it from the way the pain was invading your every sense. Dean dropped to his knees as he cradled you. Matt hadn’t seemed to have died yet. He was sputtering about and coughing up blood.

“Y/N, Y/N stay with me ok? You just gotta hold out until he’s dead.” Deans instructions were fuzzy. It was hard to pay attention, but he gripped onto your hands. “C’mon princess…Don’t die yet.” He smiled weakly at you and as much as you wanted to stay awake for Dean, your body wouldn’t let you. You drifted off, into the unknown. Although not concerned as much as you should have been with whether or not you would wake up.

Thankfully, you did. Your eyes blinked awake and sat up slowly, only to then realize that there was no pain in your back. Dean stared back at you, it was a little shocking to see him…in real life. Dean had been fuzzy back in the dream, but now..in this hospital room, you liked how real he looked.

Sam blinked awake beside him, his eyes softening as he saw you were ok. He stood up and grabbed his things their.

“Y/N? You ok there?” Dean asked and grabbed onto your hand. There was an ever present beeping beside your head.

“Yeah Dean. ‘M fine…” You trailed off. “I mean, an insane guy that I’d only been on one date with imprisoned me, but other than that..” It..It was weird because you had no idea how this had happened. “Is Matt..”

“Matt won’t be a problem. I swear.” Dean’s eyes lifted to Sam’s in a silent communication only brothers could have, asked Sam left to give them a moment alone.

“Good..Good.” Dean didn’t offer up what that meant, but you trusted that it was the truth. “Yeah..Yeah..Ok.” You whispered. “Thank you..for saving me.” You smiled back at him and leaned forward to press your lips to Dean’s in a thank you.

A gentle smile graced his lips, but you knew you had to pull away. “You do that to everyone you’re thankful of?” He asked and you shook your head no. “Guess I’m just that special?” He asked.

“You’re impossible.” It only made you want to kiss him again. So you did…again and again. You liked living in the real world. The one where Dean was there to save you.

Dean laid awake in bed, contemplating on whether he should get out or stay in. Things in the bunker had been tense, very tense. Sam and Cas both had started going silent. Even when probed, neither would say more than one word answers. 

His mind drifted to his dreams once more. Recently, it’s all he’d been able to do. Now, with another dream about Y/N on top of the other, most of his thoughts were being clouded by yours. 

During research, eating, even showering. He felt wrong when he thought of you and Dean worried he was going to get an idea that there really was a girl like that out there for him. 

So Dean did what he always did, he shoved you and the stupid dreams down, and off his mind as far away as possible.

@lovinghunty @tarot--thot @cuddly-cat-in-a-trench-coat @timeless-crow @musiclovinchic93

[en241]

Friday, 17 April

Week 11: The Secret Garden, Chapters 19 - end of book.

First, More of Your Comments: 

I am just catching up to the end of the book so I thought I would check in. As most said in the comments you shared on Tumblr I would have to agree it takes a lot for me to get into a book so it did take me a bit for this one but I was surprised how much I liked this book. The ending was really surprising as well it was very sweet and just made you feel good. I have noticed that the author uses sensory imagery throughout this novel which allows the characters and reader to connect with nature making you rethink your own life in positive ways, I really enjoyed this aspect. Mary’s positive thoughts and attitude makes you want to be the same. This even makes Colin interested in the outdoors as well despite his illness. I did really enjoy this book!

From this weeks reading, I have observed how the garden is changing People and things as a way of resurrection.  Not only are Mary’s waxy features changing but, Colins skin is changing as well. Colin is no longer ivory skinned, he looks like he has flesh. It seems that the garden is bringing life back to them after all of the bad things that have happened to them. It may also be helping things like the tree his mother fell from. Although the tree is dead, new roses will cover its outside. I feel the new roses symbolize the spirt of the children and Colins mother who have never really left the garden. Colin planting the single rose represented ownership not only of the garden but of the spirits left there. 

We all have that one place where we want to be, or think is our fairy-tale.  The garden is the fairy tale in this story. The flowers create the fairy-tale. The tale or what it once was and what it could be. This has become such a part of Mary’s life she claims to have stolen it. I have experienced this situation as well. I have claimed a horse that was not really mine. I had so much pride in her I did not realize I was stealing her like Mary.

Now, some Thoughts from Me: Please bear with me and read them . . .

I’m so glad that so many of you liked the book so much. I love this book & I love teaching it, but it’s never been as meaningful as it has been this semester. And that’s because of all your comments. 

One big thing: the way all the book’s major characters are on their own maturation plots, and how each of them help the others, so that in the end they all overcome their own personal traumas and grow. (And the garden itself is one of those characters -- maybe because it’s Mrs Craven’s spirit or maybe because Nature.) 

I wish we could talk about all the details of this book and how they work together in order to make a coherent narrative argument. And I wish we could talk about this book -- especially its characters -- and compare it with the other books we’ve read this term. I could write up notes for you about this, but that wouldn’t be the same as discussing it together. It wouldn’t be fun.

I also wish we could come back to the big issues of the course -- the maturation plot, the adult/child identity problem, the three modes (nonsense, realism, and fantasy), and all the thematic patterns like food and appetite, indoors vs outdoors, reason vs imagination, sorting, stacking & counting, adventure vs safety, honesty vs dishonesty, etc. Because, you know, that’s the point of the class. 

I also wish we could talk about all the different ways we can read Children’s Literature from a cultural perspective -- not just its history, or its connection to things like theories of psychology and education, but also its relationship to issues like race, gender, dis/ability, and ecology. Because, well, college. 

It would also be really interesting to think about issues like illustration (have you spent time with the illustrations I’ve been posting?), book design, and adaptations into other media. Because words are great, but words are not enough. (Although tbh the new movie version of The Secret Garden looks like absolute shite imho.) 

Aaaand it would also be fun to talk about more recent children’s literature and how reading these books together might go

 But we only have one week left. 

And we are all dealing with a lot of stuff. 

So next week, if it’s ok with you, I will finish out the term by giving you a couple of new things to read and/or watch. (Kinda like what we did at the beginning with Struwwelpeter, the Gashlycrumbs, and the Wild Things. Only nicer. Much nicer this time. Happier. I promise.) And I’ll ask for your comments, and post them, just like we’ve been doing. With a final reflective assignment at the end. 

Meanwhile, read this article: 21 Ways The Secret Garden Prepared Us For Adulthood . If you hadn’t read the book, it would look like a list of 21 cliche phrases . . . but now? 

Take care, stay safe, be kind, and wash your damn hands. 

AAAAAnd one more comment:

I just finished the book , absolutely loved it. Heres some thoughts...

So I think Mary is a super super interesting character. Most child fantasies start their adventures with a likable, honest and pure protagonist. At first, Mary isn't the most likable of characters .. She’s privileged, kinda annoying and just isn't the most relatable. This made it really hard for me to like Mary in the beginning but to slowly realize no - she's just damaged, really flipped the whole narrative for me. Life as a neglected, lonely orphan must have caused a lot of internal dysfunction in Mary and left a hole of hurt and pain she wasn't able to deal with and heal.

- I mean she is a child; she doesn't know how to handle these things. Imagine having your parents die at that young an age? Must be a horrible thing to deal with. Then getting sent off to the middle of nowhere to live with your weird uncle? that would suck - I definitely would cause a scene too -

I think Mary was destined to find the key to the garden and I think the robin - yes! i also think this is symbolic of Colin's mother - specifically chose to give it to her because she needed to see the garden. She needed a physical thing to take care of and nurture so she can see how attention to something leads to blossoms and beauty .. this helps her accept how important it is to give attention to herself and how planting a seed of self-love and acceptance will lead to strength and happiness.

The garden helped Mary heal wounds of the past, understand human failure, forgive herself and her circumstances to grow. Mary needs to go through this transformation to achieve maturation which is a super super prevalent theme here .. pretty much the whole book focuses on the healing and growth of Mary, and Colin later in the book. The garden is her “Wonderland” - it’s her safe place that wants to instill some sort of lesson or narrative in Mary that she absolutely needs to hear.

Mary and Colin are very alike at the beginning of the story and they get along best because their relationship is so honest .. they’re both at Stage I of childlike naiveness, with no self-awareness. I think maybe they were also destined to meet and their growth together is a beautiful thing to witness. I think the friendship they share is so important and fundamental to both of their growth. Mary and Colin aren't romantically engaged either - well because they are cousins - but this makes their bond even more special and important - definitely a relationship that’s important to have irl too .. a true friend , someone to grow with - I kinda wonder how the story would unfold if they weren't written as cousins .. would they have fallen in love??

The garden is an important place for Colin too - it gives him the motivation to want to live .. a super powerful and almost magical thing.

Anyways I'm kinda obsessed with this book now , the journey to learn how to love and accept yourself - at least that's what I took out of it - also how beautiful and valuable a strong relationship is.. definitely an important thing to note.

illustration by Inga Moore

[aswithasunbeam]

 March 1807

A fork clattered onto the floor as Hamilton’s morning coffee splattered across the clean, white tablecloth. His newspaper had a smear of syrup streaked across an advertisement on the back page from where he’d slammed it onto his plate, his eyes wide as he read the latest news of Burr’s supposed plot to make himself an emperor. “Burr’s been arrested!”

“Alexander,” Eliza sighed. She adjusted the inkwell he’d upset on the table, moving it further away from the ledger she’d been scratching in all morning. “Was that really necessary?”

“Here, Papa,” James said, reaching down to retrieve the fork from the floor.

“Look at this!” He scanned the front page again, taking in more of the details around the arrest. “Burr was discovered in the Mississippi territory. Nicholas Perkins took a detachment of men to Major Hinson’s home, after giving instructions to two mysterious men. One of the men ‘had on a white hat with a brim rather broad than otherwise, a long beard, a checkered Hankerchief around his neck, and  a great coat belted around him to which as hanging a tin cup on one side and butchers knife on the other.’ This reads like a scene from a damn novel.”1

“Alexander,” Eliza’s voice turned sharp as she glanced pointedly at William, who was watching him with rapt attention.

His eyes continued to scan over the accounts of the arrest and Burr’s subsequent escape. “They have him in disguise, fleeing from Federal forces. They’re already laying the groundwork for a treason charge. This is outrageous.”

“Is it?” Eliza asked coolly.

“Ugh, and this: ‘Burr was a great rascal when he attempted to kill Hamilton.’ Ha! As if they cared. But now the Federalists believe that as Burr seeks ‘to divide the Union, destroy the Constitution, turn Congress out of doors, assassinate Jefferson, and establish a monarchy – he is a pretty clever fellow again!’”2

“Did Mr. Burr plan to assassinate President Jefferson as part of his plot?” James asked, craning his neck to look at the paper for himself. “I hadn’t heard that.”

“Nobody’s heard it. Jefferson’s lost his mind. He’s descended into paranoid delusions. There’s no way he can actually believe any of this, can he?”

“Why shouldn’t he?” Eliza removed her spectacles and set down her quill. “Burr’s proven himself plenty dangerous when provoked. And he hasn’t distinguished himself as a paragon of loyalty or virtue recently, either, has he?”

“That was different. Burr didn’t hide in the bushes to attack me from the side of the road like an assassin. He called me out as a gentleman. It was my own folly that I answered him.” He looked at James as he spoke, hoping to instill with words the example he’d so spectacularly failed to set with his actions.

“I don’t know anything, except I watched you almost die because that fiend had his feelings hurt over a newspaper article. Perhaps Jefferson isn’t so far off the mark on this.”

“It’s the beginning of our very own reign of terror, Eliza. Don’t you see? No better than a witch hunt.”

“You’re so certain Burr’s not a witch?” she asked, seizing the metaphor.

“That’s the sort of thinking that leads to mass hysteria.”

“He’s ambitious. Viciously so. He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. I, for one, don’t think the charges against him are so outrageous.”

“Only because you’re still angry with him.”

“Yes.” She looked hard at him, unrepentant of her position.

“That’s a reason to let him hang for a crime that lives almost entirely in Jefferson’s imagination?”

“You don’t know that. You’ve been as quick to judgment as everyone else. You’re so set against Jefferson, that you’re willing to believe the best in a man who tried to kill you not so long ago. Burr’s committed crimes enough to justify me believing the worst.”

He stared at her for a long moment, unused to disagreeing with her so vehemently about politics. It’s not that she blindly took his side on things typically, but even where their opinions diverged, she wasn’t usually so concerned that she’d spend much time arguing with him over it. Not unless he asked her to, of course, so that he might better craft his own arguments.

She was hard set against Burr, though, uninterested in any view that set him as a pawn in Jefferson’s bid to take power for himself. Which made the idea formulating in his head even more problematic.

So much was happening in the wider world, while he stayed ensconced in New York, taking on paltry insurance cases and coming home to his family each evening. He’d needed that while he recovered: the predicable schedule, the short hours, the cocoon of his loving home. But he was starting to chafe at the restriction now. Burr was being chased across the continent like a desperado while he sat safe in his country retreat.

“The trial will be in Richmond over the summer,” he observed.  

Her mouth drew into a tight line.

“That’s not such a great distance away, really. Especially considering I’ll be going to Philadelphia for work already—”

“No.” She doesn’t raise her voice, but her nostrils have flared, anger boiling behind her dark eyes. The refusal left no room for argument.

He fought not to bristle at the abrupt interruption. “We could take the little ones with us. And time away would give me a chance to focus more on my new project. You know how hard it is for me to research and write with visitors and business on the doorstep at all hours.”

“No, Alexander.”

“Betsey—”

She shook her head, pushed back from the table, and snapped her ledger book shut.

**

She avoided him for much of the rest of the day.

It wasn’t hard for her, exactly. She’d already been spending most of her time at the New York Orphan Asylum, after having been named Second Directress of the new organization. Her nose was constantly in her ledger book, tracking donations, paying bills, keeping the whole charity afloat as they housed, fed, and educated the most vulnerable and unfortunate children in the city.

It was well past dark when he finally heard the front door open. He was sitting in the parlor with little Eliza and Phil, an assortment of books laid out on the table before him as he scribbled notes down. His planned essay series on governments throughout history had been too long delayed by his injury, but with Gouverneur Morris and James Kent’s assistance, it was finally underway.

“Like this,” his younger daughter was explaining, holding her palms face out to her little brother. “Patty cake, patty cake, baker’s man, bake me a cake—no Phil, you clap my hands there. Watch again.”

Hamilton smiled at the children, though his shoulders were tense as he heard Eliza approaching. She paused in the entryway, watching their two youngest at play for a long moment before entering. Then he felt her gaze land on him. She regarded him silently, sighed, then came around to stand behind his chair. Her arms slid around him, her nose nuzzling his neck affectionately.

“Hello, my love,” she whispered. All traces of anger had gone.

“Hello,” he said, wary, but welcoming. “Are you done saving the world for the day?”

“Saving the world is a bit of a strong description for a day of balancing a budget and singing nursery rhymes.”

“I disagree.”

She laughed, soft and low, her breath a warm puff against his skin. “Of course you do.”

Relaxing back into her arms, he reached back to brush his hand over her cheek. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Her lips ghosted over his ear lobe. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes.”

“The children?”

“We all managed to feed and water ourselves in your absence. Much as I depend on you, I’m not as useless as that.” He made sure to keep the tone of his voice light. The work she had undertaken was as wonderful as it was important, but he knew it bothered her that it took her away from her own family for long stretches of the day.

“I know, sweetheart,” she assured him. “But it’s my prerogative to worry over you.”

Phil clapped as he finished the rhyme with his sister, their hands having moved perfectly in unison for the first time. “Again!”

“Faster, this time,” little Eliza said.

He and Eliza both laughed as they watched their two youngest flail their hands about, creating a flurry of little fingers. Phil, in his excitement, missed his sister’s hands completely and nearly sent her toppling backwards on the last clap. “Phil,” she whined.

“Again,” the little boy demanded.

“Maybe we should do it slower again.”

Eliza sighed behind him. “Are you ready to talk about our disagreement this morning?”

“If you are.” He hadn’t been the one to lose his temper and stalk out, after all.

She grasped at the back of his chair and wheeled him from the parlor to his office, clicking the door closed behind them. When she had him settled in front of the desk, facing the interior of the room, she sat down in the armchair before him, and waited. Apparently, this talk wasn’t going to begin with an apology, or an admission that she’d seen the error of her ways.

“I haven’t changed my mind,” he said.

Her jaw clenched.

“I want to go. I need to go. I’m tired of reading about momentous events in the papers, Betsey. If I’m not going to act, I might as well have died on the field that morning with Burr.”

“Don’t say that,” she snapped, pained.

“It’s true.”

“It’s not. You have me, our family, your law practice, your health, mostly. Why can’t that be enough? Why do you have to go meddle in business that has nothing to do with you?”

“It has everything to do with me. I live in this country. I spilled my blood to see it free. I’ll be damned if I let Jefferson drive us into a dictatorship, like the Napoleon of North America. For all he says about Burr, he’s the one in the prime position to seize power. I can see now why he felt so warmly towards the French Revolution.”

“Alexander.” No heat remained in the interjection, only a weary note of caution.

“This is important to me. Very important. This trial will go down in the history books one way or another, and I need to be a part of it. I can make a difference. I can ensure things turn out right. But I can’t do it without you. I need you with me. Please?”

She tilted her head slightly, then sighed again. “For you. And only for you.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t forgive Burr, when you forgave me so freely.”

“I’m not in love with Burr,” she answered immediately.

He laughed, then sobered, unsure how felt about that being the sole ground for his own pardon. “So, if you weren’t in love with me, you would still be nursing a grudge?”

“If I weren’t in love with you,” she echoed, seeming to turn the words over on her tongue. Her eyes closed for a long moment. “You know, I can’t begin to imagine such a world.”

He smiled at that. They were so tangled up with each other, their lives so tightly entwined, he hadn’t the first notion of what life would be like without Eliza’s love. “I hope I never live to see it.”

She rose, leaned in, and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. “You never will.”

“So, you’ll come with me to Richmond?”

“Yes,” she agreed at last. “I’ll come with you. But I make no promise of cordiality towards Burr.”

“Just so long as you’re with me,” he said.

[queeniewasablondexx]

November 19th

I wrote this a few years ago when I was still trying to process my abortion. Today on the 5th anniversary it still holds a lot of relevance to me.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The second half of the year for me, for some reason this last decade has never really brought out anything fantastic. In fact, bad things always tend to happen. So I am very wary when the year passes the halfway mark because I know the shit will be definitely about to start hitting the fan.

 

I was never sure if I wanted to have children. The way I think about my life is there are a few different paths it could take and I just want that to happen naturally. Wherever I end up, I know I'm there because I just let things naturally take their course. At times, I can be a huge control freak, but I have a horrible habit of not seeing the bigger picture and just focusing on the small things and really letting them get to me. I compartmentalize the bad things and just keep going forward, because if I pause, it becomes too much and I let it take over.

 

Not good.

 

The reason I'm harping on about this is because lately I've been drawn back into a part of my life that I just want to forget. And I may be remembering all of this for any number of reasons: my best friend just had a baby, I've had yet another failed romance, I'm stuck, I'm anxious.

 

Or I just never moved past it.

 

I say the words out loud a lot, I'm able to talk about it a lot. But I talk about it as a fact, as something that happened and something I dealt with and thought was over. I'm very good at talking frankly about my experiences. One thing I've never been good about is actually talking about how they made me feel. In fact it kind of terrifies me. So I write about it. I write everything down into an essay and then put that essay away to read later when I've been able to process just what I was feeling at the time. That really really helps me. So I suppose I never got around to doing this because I wasn't ready to put it to bed. I wasn't ready to let go of what happened. I don't think I'll ever be able to let go. But I am ready to actually delve into how I feel about it.

 

TRIGGER WARNING: I am about to talk about some really intense stuff, surrounding abortion. If that will trigger you, please do not read on.

 

My second boyfriend, let's call him Algernon was probably the most intense love I've had in my life up until now, and we weren't even together for that long. But he was an angel, in all senses of the word. How we began and how we ended were both emotional and hard and it's almost been a year since we split. I have well moved on since, but he was my first real, all-consuming love. He was the best and worst thing that ever happened to me and even now, we are still really good friends, because people who have such a significant impact on your life, it's hard to let go of them. He was a huge part of my life and he still is. U

 

Algernon and I came together as I was pulling away from my first boyfriend. My first boyfriend, let's call him Creepy, was controlling and he was pulling me towards a life that I wasn't sure I wanted to live anymore. He wanted someone to be a perfect housewife, I was in no way ready to do that. For heaven’s sake I was only like 19 when we got together and we moved in together and I suddenly was in a loveless relationship where we didn't have sex anymore, we barely kissed and I wasn't coming home until he was in bed, so I didn't have to interact with him. Pretty fucked up for a 21 year old right?

 

But we're not here to talk about Creepy. That is an issue that can be tackled another day. Algernon and I fell head first into this amazing, loving, whirlwind of a romance where we didn't want to spend any time apart. It was heavenly. The sex was wild, the kisses were all the time and just how he smiled at me made everything better. I was hopelessly and insanely in with him from the get go. I couldn't stay away from him and he couldn't stay away from me. A lot of men have come and gone from my life but only a few have had such a profound effect on me. He was one of them. You can't share what Algernon and I shared and not be affected forever.

 

So we'd just finished a show together and finally "made it official" after months of dancing around the proper issue. I was on cloud nine with this boy. I had a new boyfriend who was attentive and loving. We got along super well and I adored everything about him.

 

Now I am very finicky about practicing safe sex, even if I am on the pill I insist on using protection and even then I always like to check that the condom is still intact. Ain't nothing getting through the firewall that I place over my vagina. I don't think even in my life I have let any boy enter me unless he's wrapped the tool.

 

It's funny, even now I'm trying to inject some humour in the story because I know it's going to be hard to delve deeper into this.

 

One day, we were at my house and we'd fumbled around like desperate teenagers and it had been hot and sweaty and fantastic. It had also made the condom break. Like I'm not talking about a little hole, I'm talking literally split the damn thing in half. Like I wanted to high five him and say "yeah good job mate', but I also went completely into panic mode. We went and got the morning after pill and, that pill worked once before for me so I was hopeful that it would work again.

 

So I put the whole incident out of my mind and pretended everything was okay. It was a slip up, a mistake, the pill would induce my period and everything would be okay. I had had one other experience with stuff of this nature and it had all worked out fine that time. I'd gotten my period, it was just an unlucky accident and I was fully sure it would turn out fine again this time. We went on as normal. We performed, laughed, hung out with people, I was at his house nearly every night. We were devoted to each other. It was both beautiful and unhealthy. I guess we both lost a sense of who we were because we needed each other so so much.

 

I was really very ill for a few weeks. I hadn't been able to keep food down, I was tired all the time, everything hurt and I was lashing out like an emotional monster. All signs pointed to something really not right in my body, but like the young and in love idiot I was, I just put it down to not eating right and not getting enough sleep. I was still on the pill, so of course it couldn't have been that. We'd cleaned up the mess, I'd taken the necessary steps and I'd thought I'd gotten my period, so there was no way that it could have been what I knew deep down it was.

 

Yes I knew. I think, as a female you somehow know. You know very well what is going on with your own body, but I've always been really really good at not thinking about the realities of my true situation.

 

But when the doctor uttered those words "it's a positive pregnancy test, Hannah" my world went dark. It was all fuzzy and I felt cold and like I was having a literal out of body experience. Algernon was driving and I looked at him and he looked back at me, this look of absolute fear in his trusting and beautiful eyes. All he could say was "it's okay Han, I'll make it okay". But I couldn't understand him. All I could think was that these things don't happen to me. They happen to people who I only read about on Facebook, or girls in novels or tv shows. Accidental pregnancy was not ever supposed to be something that would ever happen in my life.

 

Most of the time I don't really remember actual details of moments. I know things that happened and I do have a good memory. But that day has literally forever been etched into my memory. Of course, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I wasn't a teenager and it had happened with a boyfriend I'd loved and cared for and not a stranger. But it's still fucking terrifying. Just knowing that suddenly, it's not just your life anymore, there's something of someone else inside you and every day it was growing and feeling more and becoming more and more someone not something. It sucked. Suddenly people were talking to me about my 'options' and my bodily functions and how I was feeling. And the most heartbreaking fact, I wanted people to yell at me and accuse me of being reckless and ruining my life like the movies. I wanted Algernon to hate me and rage at me. I wanted to feel bad, to match how I was feeling on the inside. I felt horrible. I felt horrible that a small tiny mistake had the danger of rocking everything around me and hurting all the people close to me.

 

Do I regret it? Do I wish I'd made a different decision? Truthfully? I have no fucking idea. It's such a circumstantial thing. We can say until we're blue in the face that "it was the right decision at the time" but sometimes the right decision at the time isn't right 2 years later. I think about it now and I actually can't explain the feeling. It's not something I have felt before and it's not something I can relate to anything that I have actually felt before. Because I have never felt that before. I guess if I had to put it into words, I'd say it was a really intimate sudden protectiveness I had over my body. And what was in my body. Never ever, in the whole experience was I mad at the little thing growing inside me, it wasn't their fault that I had made that mistake and they were the product of that. And I really only got two weeks to experience it. One minute, I was happily ignorant, the next minute I was aware of this little bump growing in my belly. Even 12 weeks in, I had a bump. Yeah, I was 12 weeks. I stayed ignorant and clueless to what my own body was trying to tell me for 12 weeks.

In hindsight, I think if I'd known about it for longer, I would have decided differently. If Algernon and I had had time to sit down and maybe plan, get our heads around it, if I'd had more time to fall in love with my bump, I wouldn't have been able to let go of it so easily. It was all over so quickly. I hadn't even met the thing and I was fascinated with it. Now that I have had a couple of years to let the whole settle within me and wash over me, I know without a shadow of a doubt if I could change my mind and go through with it, I think I would. I think I would have let it all play out the natural way, even if Algernon and I weren't supposed to end up together. Now that I actually think about the aftermath of a pregnancy, I find it doesn't terrify me as much, but then I was much younger and much more conscious that a pregnant belly would show and I wasn't ready to deal with that kind of judgement. I'm old enough to not give an actual fuck now, but I wish that hadn't factored into my decision. I hate admitting that it was there, that I made such a big life changing decision because of the fear of being judged.

I didn't just do it for him. He was a baby himself, not even 20 yet and I was only 21. We were young and in love kids really. I'd love to say that I did it for him, so I look selfless and yes so I have someone to also put the responsibility on. But it wasn't him, he was so beautifully devoted to whatever I wanted and whatever I chose. I was the mother, so it was my call. What I forgot was that this was just as hard for me as it was for him.

I knew I was pregnant for just two weeks. I was able to enjoy the feeling the pregnancy gave me, but there was an impending doom. I felt guilty for enjoying it, for wanting the little life inside me to move, for imagining if my little flutter would be a boy or girl. If their hair would be dark like mine or blonde like Algernon's. If they would have blue eyes and if they would look at me like I was the most important person on the planet. Or if what I was doing would hurt them, or if it would curse me in some way forever. Yeah dramatic, I know but like WOW no one warns you how much of a monster pregnancy turns you into. It fucking sucks. I was an over-eating, over emotional literal monster it was disgusting.

I hate how I feel about the whole thing now. It's not sadness, it's not anger, it's not even happiness. It's this horrible longing and emptiness. I sometimes literally immerse myself in the memory of how it felt to have that little life inside me. To have the adoration of Algernon and to momentarily know what having a maternal instinct felt like. It's perfectly beautiful. There is literally nothing like it. I used to talk to it, tell it I was sorry, tell it I wish things were different, tell it that I wanted it, tell it that it was loved and tell it that I hope it forgave me for what I was about to do.

So it was about five days before I was scheduled in to have the procedure and I was in bed with Algernon trying to sleep. Suddenly I felt like I was getting my period and that my stomach was falling out. I rolled over, Algernon was asleep, so I popped myself to the bathroom and had a look. Now, sorry for the graphics, but it was a literal murder scene down there, I was obviously miscarrying, or really really ill. Mum seemed calm, dad seemed calm and when Algernon woke up, he seemed calm. For some reason, the fact that this decision had suddenly been taken away was a comforting thought. We spent the night talking about historical figures who had miscarriages, how sexist society used to be around pregnancy and how there was still a stigma surrounding unplanned pregnancy today. I was so chilled out, more chilled out than I've ever been. I don't know why I was so calm, suddenly I didn't have to make a hard call, suddenly I could just lie there with my man and smile and talk and hope for the best in the morning. That night I slept better than I'd slept in a long time.

And then the shit well and truly hit the fan the next morning.

 

Now, I love my mother. She has supported me through anything and she always will. But she has the biggest of big mouths and the next morning, of course she jumped on the phone to tell both of my sisters that I'd spent the night bleeding out. My sister is a nurse and suddenly I was woken from my peaceful, non-pregnant slumber with her on the phone:

"Hannah get to the hospital, you might bleed out,"

I wasn't fussed. I knew the bleeding had stopped and I felt much better than I had, I didn't even feel pregnant anymore. But, the words "bleed out" seemed to send both my mother and Algernon into a frenzy and I found myself packed into a car and on my way to the emergency room. Where I knew I KNEW they were going to poke and prod me and try to take my blood and ask me questions and things would smell bad and be scary and basically, I hate hospitals. But my mother and my baby daddy were insistent.

Apparently being pregnant means you can skip the line and be seen to immediately. Fancy that. So I checked in, told the nurse on duty my conundrum and they whisked me behind the scenes to sit on a bed while they tried to prod every place on my body and try to get blood out of me. That is not an easy feat. I think we were sitting there for at least half an hour before they actually managed to draw the blood they needed OUT OF MY HAND. And all I remember was feeling sickened that they were about to stab a needle into my hand... and then I passed out for a couple of minutes. Thankfully, they gave up the expedition for blood after that. But a line stuck with me that one of the nurses had said "woman, how do you expect to have a baby with a stomach like this?". Of course it had been a joke, but it had always stuck with me. I wasn't expecting to have a baby. I didn't even want to be here. In my mind thank goodness if I'd miscarried, I wouldn't have to go through the abortion, it had been done for me. That's all that was in my mind. I had been saved, my conscience had been cleared because of my body's decision. 

The rest of the hospital trip was a blur of needles and urine tests and people asking me questions about a baby I wasn't keeping and look, it was fine. I was happy to smile through all of it... until I had to sit in an ultrasound, because there was still something in there. Something alive and they needed to figure out where it was and if it was in any danger. Yes, even though I most definitely getting rid of the baby, to the doctors and nurses, I was a young mum who had almost miscarried and they treated the pregnancy like any other. It didn't matter that the thing inside me wouldn't be around next week, all that mattered was that I was okay now, and that it was okay. And the nurse, bless her, turned the friggen monitor around and showed me. Showed me the thing that was definitely not just a speck anymore. That was definitely not what I had wanted ever, because actually seeing that it was a shape, it was a life, it wasn't just "my accidental pregnancy" anymore, it was a baby. That itself was horrifying and sad. I felt sad. It wasn't gone, I was still pregnant and it was healthy. That was what hit me the hardest. It was healthy and all the control was in my hands to be able to make this decision and I just needed the out. The abortion wasn't the easy way out, not in any way. But when I was that young and that scared, it was the only decision that I knew how to make. The only decision that ensured I could go on living my life as normal.

That in no way ever made it the easy decision.

 

The actual day of the operation flew by. I sort of went through the motions that day. I didn't know any other way to be. Everyone around me was in some bad mood but I couldn't feel it. I felt numb. Because I knew that if I opened up my feelings for just one moment I would back out. So I just put on a chilled out facade and nodded and listened and filled out the forms and paid the cheque and every time they asked me "are you sure you want this?" I nodded without hesitation.

 

The one moment of panic I had was when we had the final ultrasound. Algernon came in with me. He didn't have to, but bless him, he was always there for me in the whole thing every step of the way. And his face when he saw it. His eyes. I can never forget that. Up until now the whole thing had felt unreal, like something from a drama tv series. That moment made it reality. This wasn't just my thing. It was ours.

 

Then suddenly I was upstairs and alone again. I put on the paper underwear and the gown. I sat in the waiting room in silence with all the others girls. The writer in me wanted to know their stories. The little girl in me wanted my mum. So much rushed through my mind in those two hours. My mums face as I was rushed upstairs. My friends confused faces as they said "good luck" the day before, because honestly what do you say to someone in that situation? I had to take this medication to basically make me go into labour. That went for two hours. The clinic was really busy and noisy and actually very normal. I don't know why I thought it wouldn't be. I mean it was just a normal medical procedure. So why shouldn't the place it was in be normal as well. The normalcy should have comforted me. It didn't. I wanted something dramatic to happen. Someone to cry or yell or show some kind of emotion. I wanted to cry or yell or show some kind of emotion. But I didn't. None of us did. Most just stared straight ahead.

Soon I was having the drugs put in my arm. Laying on the table. They acted like I wasn't there, no massive fuss was made, they all smiled and then I closed my eyes and all I remember was my legs were tucked up underneath me. I rolled over and sleepily said to the nurse "is it over? Am I still pregnant?" and she smiled and shook her head.

 

That's it. It was over. Life went back to normal. Algernon and I both tried to go on.

 

It's been two years and life has well and truly moved on. I'm not the same her I was. I could say something cheesy like "it made me stronger" or "I have a darkness now" blah blah. But I don't. It happened. It affected me and I admit, the months that followed I went down a path of self-destruction that I am only now coming out of. But the point is, I'm here and I'm okay now and I don't regret or celebrate my decision. It just... happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My life changed that day and I’m still getting over the after effects of what was to come. But reading this reminds me that I am healing and that is okay.

[tres-spades-hotel]

Top 10 Things That I Love About You

It’s Eisuke’s birthday in just a few days and I’m waiting for his present to arrive. Ever since the hotel opened up in New York, life has been even more hectic than normal. Lately, I see Eisuke less and less because of the ever-growing work as both the CEO of the Ichinomiya Group and as the owner of multiple hotels across the globe. My fiancé is being over-worked and, at first, I had no idea what to do to relieve him for a while. If only we could go to an isolated island for years. It would be bliss.

The others aren’t much help either. They just continue to tease us as a couple but I know they see Eisuke being more stressed than usual. I know they mean well so I just laugh and brush it off. That’s when I got an idea.

I went out on a day off to look for a bookshop. I’ve been reading Eisuke’s book that he used for learning business and I’ve become interested and invested into becoming a business-woman for Eisuke. I know that it’s a long shot, but I would like to help Eisuke out. If I know the inner workings of business, I can take some of Eisuke’s work off of his shoulders.

I found an old bookshop further out from where the hotel is. I found many books that I wanted. Some romance books, information books, magazines and many books about business that I could use. While in the romance section of the shop, I found a few short novels and poetry books written by wives and husbands for their significant others. When I was stumped for ideas for a present, this gave me a perfect idea. After paying for the books, I rushed out and headed for a department store to find craft materials.

There are two halves of my beloved’s present. I had already ordered a his and her set of bangles. One for me which says, ‘His Queen’ in rose gold, and the other, in metallic black which says, ‘Her King’. I specifically ordered them to have a crown symbol and a spade symbol. I just can’t wait to see Eisuke wearing it, because I want people to see exactly who he belongs to.

The next part of his present, I decided, will be a small booklet detailing all of things that I love about Eisuke. And this list goes to the horizon. Once I sat down to write a small list, it became more of a happy pass-time to remember all of our sweet and sexy moments since 5 years. Then I realise just how much love I have for Eisuke and how much more I will give. Soon this list became a lot more than a simple small booklet. It became a book of memories of my love for Eisuke. Sakiko and Chisato have helped me to make my booklet and I have written down everything that needs to go in.

The A5 booklet is Eisuke’s signature lavender purple and I have tried to write in a neat handwriting. Key word: tried. On the front cover is a large black spade symbol and, written in a silver colour pen, Eisuke’s name in the middle. At the top, ‘To My Billionaire,’ and at the bottom ‘From Your Love, for Eternity’. Inside is a little introduction by me, then I wanted it to go on to many bullets describing everything that I love about Eisuke. Instead, I decided to make it a ‘Top 10’ things that I love about Eisuke.

Everything is in it. All the littlest things that I love. All the bigger things that I love. Every desire and every part of my love is in this small booklet and I cannot wait for Eisuke to see it. He always wants to know things about me. Why I smile when nothing happens. In this, he will get to know everything.

Eisuke’s POV

It’s morning. The sunlight streams through the open windows. Every day, Vivian asks me why we don’t have curtains for the windows. But considering the penthouse is on the top floor, I don’t think we need it. Her attention should always be on me and not on the outside but she just laughs at me and says I’m ridiculously “cute”. She’s the ‘ridiculous’ one but she’s become everything to me.

She’s lying next to me now. Wrapped up in the silk sheets and sleeping in my arms. I tried to get up a while ago but her grip on me became tighter and I couldn’t leave her. Vivian lays her head on my chest and her arm over my stomach. She calls me cute, but she is cuter.

I sigh, knowing that it will be a while before I can fully get up out of bed. So I look to the bedside table and find the book that Vivian gave me for my birthday. As I reach out to get it, the bangle that she gave me shines in the sunlight. It says ‘Her King’ with a spade on it. I’m sure she mostly bought the matching couples bangles for herself more than anything. But I don’t dislike it. It’s exactly the kind of thing I would give her but not one for myself. It just shows how far we’ve come.

That not only does she belong to me, but I belong to her.

I haven’t been able to read it since we were up all night celebrating my birthday, not that I like celebrating it. But when I’m with Vivian, I know that I don’t have to hate my birthday; it’s no longer a nuisance to me.

I open the sweet cover and read.

Dear Eisuke,

Happy Birthday! I can’t believe we have been together for 5 years now, that we get to celebrate our birthdays with each other. I hope you get what you want, although I think we know exactly what that is.

I know you like and accept anything that I make for you. So I made this. I want you to know exactly how much I love you and for what reasons that I do. We both know that you’re flawed, but to me, you’re perfect. An arrogant perfectionist is what you are to the world but a sweet and soft man is what you are to me.

I decided to make a list of absolutely everything that I love about you. Here, you’ll get to know about all my top 10 desires. Everything that makes you mine. I hope you gain amusement out of this and see why words are just as important as actions.

I love you so much,

Yours forever,

Vivian

Her small letter fills me up inside. We have been through much together. I made her mine when we met, then she made me hers straight after. I thought I knew why she loves me, but the list does show exactly what she loves about me.

1.     First off, your heart. I know how caring you really are, even if you don’t admit to it. When I’m hurt, frustrated or insecure, you are always there at my side. And not only me, I see how caring you are with the others. Even if they are annoying as hell, you always want to know if everything is in order. That nothing is wrong. None of you will admit it (except maybe for a particular fedora-loving thief), but as a family, everyone cares about everyone. You may say it is because they work for you, that you don’t want them to start lacking or to deteriorate in their work-load but I know that it’s something more. A desire to know everything, right and wrong, good and bad. Some may say you have an ‘odd’ way of showing it, but I can tell it’s there.

2.     How protective you are. Sometimes I’m not sure whether this is protection or your possessiveness but I love it either way. I don’t need to fear anything knowing that you’re my shield. That you have my back like I have yours. I feel safe in your arms, in your presence, in your home. If I’m ever in danger, I know you will come to save me. And that you’ll take me home and shower me with love, to show me that I’m safe and that I’m loved.

3.     Your lips. This isn’t a joke. I love your kisses. If there’s anything that I could do for the rest of my life, it would be staying attached to your lips. Your kisses are sweet, just like you. I can never count how many times we’ve kissed or made out but I know it’s a lot and I can’t wait to spend my life kissing you.

4.     Your actions. Almost everyone questions them, and regrettably, I do to. I love that whatever you do, it is done with good intentions. Even if those actions are questionable or wrong, you do have the best intentions within you. But I also know that your actions are done with care and precision. That you have thought very thoroughly about the consequences of your actions.

5.     Your body. Is that even a suprise? I love how you cross your legs, how you smirk at me, how deliciously good you are when you make love to me, how handsome and hot you are, how sexy you look in your suits, how beautiful your eyes are, how large and delicate your hands are. Every night I can’t wait for you to make love to me, no matter how embarrassed I get. When you make love to me, I feel full. I feel loved. I feel everything that you want me to know. Alongside your kisses, I want to spend the rest of life making love with you. I never want any other. Only you.

6.     Your stubbornness. We’re both stubborn. Extremely stubborn. Maybe that’s why I love it. When we both don’t back down and you always say what’s on your mind. When you tell me that if I have something to say, I should say it. And you know that I do. At least, I try to. I love how you speak your mind, for better or worse, and never holding back (among other things).

7.     When you reveal your true feelings. I like to hear you say sweet words to me. When you say you love me. That you need me. That I’m the only one you see and look at. That you can’t be without me. That I’ve wrapped you around my finger. That it’s my fault you got hooked onto me, and that I can’t let go of you now. Those words will always be my most treasured memories.

8.     Your personality. How arrogant you can be. How sure you are that you’re the king. And that I’m your queen. How nothing sways you, how calm you are in dangerous situations. Your subtle caring nature. Your love for sweet things (me and coffee). Your love for animals. Your hatred of peas. Your love of the value of hard work. How possessive you are with me.

9.     Your appearance. You have many suits. You always wear a different one wherever we go. I love it because they look so good on you. You always look your best in whatever situation you find yourself in. It shows that you’re hard-working. That you built your empire through your own work and not that of others.

10.  This book may say 10, but there are many more things that I love about you. I just wouldn’t be able to get it all down before I come up with one more reason to love you. So here’s the last in this book: I love how you love me. Your love is precious to me. Everything you do, everything you love, everything that makes you whole. They’re all things that make me love you. Your love fills me up with joy. That you chose me to be your one and only. To be your wife. To be the mother of your children. To be your life partner. They’re all that I want. When you love me, I know that I don’t need anything else. You are the only one for me.

I know the list will grow as the years go by. I just can’t help but wonder what else she loves about me. But we have forever to find those out.

So? Did you like it? I have much more love to share with you Eisuke. I can’t live without you now. You’ve made me obsessed. You’ve made me crazy for your love. Crazy for your body. Crazy for your affection. I want to never be without you. Let me stay by your side and I’ll show you exactly who you belong to.

For you, I will do anything. Happy Birthday honey. I love you so much.

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

Happy Birthday Eisuke!!! 💜

It’s officially 12am here in England! 🕛

My King, I love you so much! Your recent story drew me to tears. Don’t make me feel like I could lose you because I don’t want to think about it. I can’t wait to see what 2019 has in store for you. I hope you get so much love that you don’t know what to do with it (unless you buy a warehouse and store it there?!). 😘

When I first saw you in the prologue of Kissed By The Baddest Bidder, I knew I was going to love you. That my type is a particular hot, brunette billionaire who deserves all the love in the world. After reading your first season main stories, I was hooked. I fell down the dark black (or purple) hole of Eisuke and I don’t want to ever come out. That’s how much I love you. You take over my thoughts all the time. 🤗

I can’t believe I’m in love with a fictional man! ❤️ Why can’t you be real?! 😭

I can’t wait to buy your Season 5.5 and see exactly how much love you have!

Once again, Happy Birthday! 🎁🎉🎊🎈

[my-obsession-with-wayhaven]

So... The idea to do this has been kicking around my head for a while and I finally said why not? So! Here’s my Mood Board for one Detective Virgil Sanders!

Stats (Typically):

Charming 59% /// Intimidating 41%

Impulsive 53% /// Cautious 47%

Sarcastic 41% /// Genuine 59%

Friendly 75% /// Stoic 25%

Easygoing 58% /// Stubborn 42%

Heart 60% \\\ Mind 40%

Optimist 68% \\\ Pessimist 32%

Team Player 71% \\\ Independent 29%

Skills (Typically):

People - 36%

Combat - 43%

Science/Technology - 65%

Deduction/Knowledge - 32%

By The Book 64% /// Bend The Rules 36%

Constant canon for Virgil:

Cross-dressing gay man

Short, dark brown hair

Grey eyes

Lightly tan skin

5′ 5″

Has the middle Mood Board image (without the background moon) as a tattoo on his back along the length of his spine, starting at the base of the neck and ending at the bottom of his lower back

He and Bobby dated, and hasn’t been on a date since they broke up;

Coffee is his lifeblood

Mild insomnia

Always believed in the Supernatural before finding out

Doesn’t give two shits that Unit Bravo aren’t human, and loves them all anyway

Actually enjoys Mason’s company (both in and out of romance)

Criminal background

Didn’t want the promotion

Close friends with Tina and Verda

Has shot a gun before, but is hesitant to do it again

LOVES REBECCA TO DEATH AND WILL ALWAYS HUG HER WHEN HE CAN

Cozy style for apartment (though it does change to minimal in Adam Romance, and dark in Mason Romance)

RARELY drinks

Now, I use the same character for each playthrough, but I like to think of the different playthroughs as alternate universes, where he just ends up with a different member of Unit Bravo (or two during the Love Triangle route).

As for his outfit, it depends on the season: in winter, he wears a hoodie, t-shirt, and jeans; in spring, he wears a pencil skirt, shirt, and some jewelry (two rings, one on each hand, and a necklace); in summer, he wears just jeans and a t-shirt; and in fall/Autumn, he wears a leather jacket, t-shirt, and cargo pants/trousers. And yes, I did actually spend half an hour thinking about what he’d wear.

On the unpleasant topic of Bobby, Virgil’s thoughts on how it ended change depending on who he’s gonna be romancing:

Nate, and Love Triangle: No issue

Adam: Hard to be around

Felix: The grudge of grudges

Mason: BEGONE THOT

Virgil has always been a friendly, caring person since he was young, but after his father was no longer apart of his life, he quickly turned to a criminal life when he hit puberty at 12. He took the offer to join the force to not go to jail since he already knew a man like him won’t do too well in such a place and it ended up fitting him well. Tina and Verda, as well as Bobby--unfortunately--know that Virgil openly believes that the Supernatural exist, and that they’ve evolved with the human race to hide themselves better. When his very first case as a Detective began and he met Unit Bravo, he was very welcoming with them, happily greeting Nate, accepting Felix’s kiss on his hand, teasing Mason on his introduction, and noticed that Adam had been very tense when they shook hands after he mentioned that they might have met the night prior.

As they got deeper into the case (with Virgil spending as much time as he could with whoever he’s romancing, or splitting his time and attention between Adam and Nate in the Love Triangle), Virgil quickly picked up on the oddities with the blood and focused on that, much to the strange discomfort of Unit Bravo.

When the team found him in a bar with Tina after he returned from the hospital, he was calm when he was told the truth about Murphy, understanding from how close he was to his mother the reason somethings needed to stay secret, even if it annoys everyone by doing so. After he was knocked out and awoke in the medical bay of an Agency facility, and was told the truth about the case and about Supernaturals, a lot of the strange things he’s noticed and picked up on clicked into place, and was very accepting of the whole situation.

In the end, during the fight in the warehouse with Murphy, powered up on his freshly altered blood--having remained calm and tried to keep him talking to buy a little time--figured out what needed to be done to remove his blood from Murphy, and with Adam’s help, managed to succeed in doing so.

Virgil Sanders tends to be friendly and a little flirty when he talks to people he’s close with, and is very accepting of people for who they are. In every playthrough except Adam’s, he gets close enough with Mason for him to hold back the branch for him when they check on Murphy’s Thralls; I don’t know what it is about Adam’s romance, but he nearly smacks Virgil with that branch every time!

Sarcastic comments are reserved for high annoyance or stress, or if he’s trying to defuse a tense situation, otherwise, he’s upfront and honest in what he’s saying.

Due to the mild case of insomnia he devolved in his mid-teens, Virgil has trouble sleeping anytime before 1 or 2 in the morning, even though his job has him waking up around 6 or 7 am; it’s part of the reason he has such a heavy dependence on coffee. That, and he has a caffeine addiction that only coffee can sate.

Virgil, because of how friendly he is, as well as his criminal background, can pick up on social cues that people give off when they’re lying or trying to hide something, and he’s WAY too cunning for Adam’s sanity, so he knew right away after the first power struggle between Adam and Nate the day after he met the team that something else was going on, and no one was allowed to say.

Um... Let’s see...other facts about Virgil...

Knows how to pole dance, and does so for exercise

Loves to dance in any style for any reason

Fluent (speaking/reading/writing) in Spanish, French, Latin, and Greek

Can read and write in Russian, German, Korean, and Polish

Great cook, and can make foods for those with sensitive palates (looking at you, Mason)

Bakes like he’s a Goddamn grandmother

Can play the guitar, violin, piano, and drums

Loves to read; especially fantasy romance novels

Can fight and run in 5″ heels

Has a runner’s build in muscle tone

Is actually strong enough to lift Adam above his head with one hand

Knows how to hack computers

Knows how to pick any lock

Crafts jewelry and accessories from scratch

Can give deep-tissue, full body massages

Lots of casual touches

Is actually a little touch-starved

VERY physically affectionate; tons of hugs and cheek kisses

Loves running his fingers through people’s hair no matter the length

Cuddlebug

Street fighter/brawler fighting style, but with a dancer’s grace to the movements when he dodges out of the way

Has broken a solid steel pipe by kicking it

Will wear skimpy women’s lingerie in public and be unashamed

Sleeps easier and deeper when he smells sandalwood, so Mason usually has an excuse to crawl into Virgil’s bed after he tells him (both in and out of romance)

Will sit in one of Unit Bravo’s laps if he wants to be in contact with people; this normally ends up being Nate or Felix

Has a pair of Adam’s boots, Felix’s jeans, Nate’s shirts, and Mason’s leather jackets in his wardrobe after he snuck into their rooms and ‘borrowed’ them

Wants to bang all four of them at the same time, but know that will never happen

When he’s scared, he’ll seek out Adam, since he makes him feel safe

When he’s lonely, he’ll seek out Felix, since they can just talk and cuddle for hours

When he’s unsure of himself/things, he’ll seek out Nate, since he can relax the most around him and fully open up

When he’s extremely exhausted, he’ll seek out Mason, since his naturally occurring scent of sandalwood easily lulls Virgil to sleep; usually, they end up someplace that Virgil can easily rest again Mason without him really needing to hold Virgil against him

And...yeah. That’s everything I got for details about Virgil for now! Love you and your game so much @seraphinitegames and I can’t wait for Two Book to be finished when it lets you be done with it!

[aeolian-mode]

aeo’s guide to RP

Hey guys!

I’ve been roleplaying for the better half of my life, and I had the thought today, ‘you know what? It could be cool to make a thing about RPing that may help new RPers or young people learn more about it.’ So I made this. Read if you feel like it ^^ (FYI, this is all for text-based online RP things. Tabletop RPs are not part of this article.)

So, what is RP? I’ve always defined roleplay as ‘collaborative storytelling.’ You take control of a character that you invent, and write what your character will do in a situation with another individual.

Writing a book by yourself is sometimes difficult, because you have to rely solely on yourself, your own life experience, and your own resources. When you write a book with others, it’s a lot different. Your RP partners bring in their own interests and experiences. There is also the layer of mystery- you can’t predict what they will write next, which makes waiting for the next post exciting.

So if you have an original character you want to introduce to the world, RP is a great way to stretch your creative muscles and become a better writer before you try to tackle writing novels or making comics.

How do you RP? There are many ways to find a community of like-minded storytellers. First, you have to figure out what kind of RP you want to do. There are RP groups for fandoms, furries, original universes, and more! If you’re really interested in something, chances are, there is an RP community out there somewhere. This is the most important thing to understand: you should try to interact with others first rather than expecting them to find you. Most people are always extremely grateful and excited for the attention, and they will very likely return the favor. If you have anxiety, that’s ok- TONS of RPers struggle with anxiety, and I haven’t met a single person who has ever been upset or displeased to be approached by someone for RP. You will delight them, they will feel good to be included! 1. You can join an instant messaging RP such as a Discord group. (It’s sometimes more difficult to find these unless you already follow a lot of RP groups and have a lot of friends interested in RP. Post about it on your blog, see if anyone in your friend group is in one!) 2. You can create an RP blog on Tumblr. In order to find people to interact with, you will probably have to interact with other RP blogs first. The way I did it on my TF2 RP blog is to send messages to other blogs, draw the characters of every person that followed me or interacted with me, and tag my RP posts #tf2 rp. People LOVE drawings and direct interactions. 3. You can search for an RP forum to join. One of my go-to places is the RPG Directory: http://rpg-directory.com/ Sometimes, simply googling for something like “pokemon forum RP” helps, too!

4. You can join a MMORPG RP community. Most big-name MMOs have dedicated RP groups on their RP servers. For example, if you wanted to join ESO’s RP scene, check out the ESO RP forum to make connections before you jump into the game. People are usually very friendly and helpful for new RPers and will help you settle in to the community. Here’s some things to help you pick the game that’s right for you (from the list of games I have personally experienced RP): FFXIV ($15 Monthly Sub): https://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/ WoW ($15 Monthly Sub): https://us.battle.net/forums/en/wow/1182815/ ESO (Pay Once, Play Forever): https://www.eso-rp.com/ LotrO (Free to Play!): https://www.lotro.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?539-Laurelin-EN-RP  Wildstar (Free to Play!): https://www.wildstar-roleplay.com/

(As a note, Free to Play RP servers tend to be a bit more come-and-go; the subscription-based games tend to have more player retention. If you want to make long term connections, be sure to get friend requests from people you’ve enjoyed writing with, as they might not stick around forever!)

RP flows differently depending on your medium. Instant messaging generally tends to be more fast paced, but results in shorter posts with less descriptions and exposition. Forum RP tends to be much slower paced, but posts are more detailed and lengthy with lots of exposition. MMO RP tends to be incredibly fast paced, but with very little exposition and description, focusing almost entirely on character actions and dialogue (as the video game environment already provides the visual, reducing the need for description). Pick a pacing that is right for you! For me, forums are currently easiest, because my life is busy and I don’t have to be online all the time to have a good story. What are the rules of RP?

A lot of people will say, “the 3 main things you need to avoid are ‘godmoding’, ‘powerplaying’, and ‘metagaming.’ “Godmoding” is taking control of someone else’s character without their consent. In RP, it’s important to write only your own character during interactions. “Powerplaying” is bending the story around your own will. Such as: writing your character as if they are impervious and can easily take over the world with their unlimited power. (For example, your partner’s character is angry with your character and throws a punch at them. Your character avoids the punch effortlessly, grabs the attacker’s hand, breaks it, then tosses them through a window.) “Metagaming” is giving your character knowledge that you have, but your character does not have. (For example, someone told you about the contents of their character’s secret journal out of character, but your character did not read that journal, you should not assume your character knows that information.)

However, I would say these are only symptoms of one simple issue: lack of consent.

Before doing something that could change the story in a significant way, simply ask the people you are RPing with if it is OK with them.

So, I would boil down the ‘most important RP rule’ as simply one rule: the Rule of Consent. It doesn’t just apply to mature topics. It applies to everything.

Communication is key! Chances are, people will be OK with accommodating your vision for the story, or helping you come up with a way to make it work. Before doing something extreme like instigating violence, coming across sensitive information, or introducing a significant conflict, simply communicate your ideas out-of-character to your partners before pursuing it. You will have a much better experience if you simply communicate!

Are there RP taboos I should avoid? How do I stay safe if I want to RP but I’m a minor?

This is a bit of a touchier topic, but the rule of thumb is: If it’s gonna be weird and hard to talk about in person, in real life, and out-of-character, chances are, it’s going to be weird and hard to approach in an RP context. Many people RP as an escape from real-world drama and difficulties; don’t bog down their fantasy with the sorts of things they may be trying to avoid. Go back to the Rule of RP: Consent. Make sure your partner will be comfortable with exploring heavier, taboo topics in their fiction and storytelling. TL;DR- Some people don’t like Game of Thrones. Some people don’t want their RP environment to turn into Game of Thrones. Some people enjoy writing about heavier, ‘adult’ material, but don’t assume everyone does. Try to assume your partner is a minor unless they tell you otherwise. (Obvious exception being, if you explicitly joined an 18+ forum, community, guild, etc. The admins of said community should be doing their best to enforce that everyone joining is 18+.)

Don’t be creepy. RP is a hobby, community storytelling, and should be fun for everyone.

If it stops being fun for you, tell your partner it is not fun. You are not obligated to RP with someone who makes you unhappy or uncomfortable. It is a hobby. If you’re worried that they won’t be your friend anymore if you stop RPing with them, ask yourself if that is because they are manipulating you. A real friend will not make you feel trapped.

And if you are a minor, make sure that you stay safe. Don’t join an 18+ community. Don’t ever give someone your personal information, even if they seem like your friend. It’s very easy to get emotionally invested in the stories you tell through RP, but predators are very good at manipulation. View RP as a creative outlet. Look for an RP community that is right for you, and surround yourself with like-minded people.

Practice emotionally distancing yourself from the content of your stories. It’s good and fun to get invested, but don’t become so invested in the story that it induces anxiety, stress, or makes it hard for you to focus on your real life responsibilities. If something is causing you anxiety, panic episodes, or difficulty sleeping and focusing, listen to your body. It’s telling you something isn’t right. Talk about it with someone you trust, and start distancing yourself from the RP.

RP is for fun! Always remember that. Everyone you RP with should respect that it is for fun, and not something to lose sleep over!

I’m having trouble finding RP partners, getting people to stay interested in my story, or staying interested in it myself. What do I do?

I’ve found that the best way to stay invested and get people interested in your story is to give your character a very strong, attainable goal. Here is an example of a “difficult to RP” character concept. Tim the Traveller is mute. He goes around the world looking for people to help, because he’s a very powerful magic healer. He has no family and no home. People have trouble communicating with him because he can’t talk. But he does his best to help. This character is difficult to RP with because he places the onus of every interaction on the other person. He is involving himself in their stories, but he has no personal goals or challenges to explore, himself. Plus, being mute, it makes it more difficult for him to carry on lengthy conversations with the people he encounters. This character concept can be done in a fun and effective way, but I’d say it is a challenge for someone who is just starting out. Let’s see what we can do to make Tim the Traveller a bit easier to RP with. Tim the Traveller suffered severe burns all over him from an incident when he was a child: a criminal set fire to his parent’s house, killing his father. He is searching the world for where the arsonist fled to. He only has a loose trail of breadcrumbs to follow in his quest for revenge and must constantly search for more information and change trajectories. He attempts to help those he comes across during his travels, but always takes his opportunity to press people for more information, describing the arsonist and praying desperately that he will find a trace of the man that killed his father. This sort of idea of a plot allows you to communicate to your RP partners OOC what your character’s goals are, give them information that they might help your character continue his quest, and in turn, your character also has opportunities to help them with their own goals at the same time. One RP I’ve done in the past that was fun was a case of a grave robber. My character was an incredibly poor street rat-turned-detective, and he was approached with an unusual case: a grave was dug up by a necromancer, the body tampered with, but it was placed back in the grave and the perpetrator was nowhere to be seen. My character was strongly motivated to find the perpetrator because he needed the reward money to take care of his adopted son. With limited information concerning the plot, my character travelled all over the city asking everyone he encountered for whatever information they might have regarding the tampered grave. This allowed me to involve a lot of people in the community and allowed my GM to construct opportunities for those involved to find more evidence, and developed into a very rich and interesting story.

A passive character is harder to RP with. An active character makes things happen.

 A wallflower RP character can be fun to play in some circumstances, but without an attainable goal, involving others in your story will be harder. Give them goals and motivations, communicate with your RP partners, and see what sorts of stories can be told!

My RP never goes anywhere. I write starters/approach people, but every interaction I have with people doesn’t ever result in anything. What am I doing wrong? I have found, in my RP experience, your connections will feel more in-depth and your RP more rewarding if you try and see how your character and your friend’s character can develop and change over time. This requires some thinking, plotting, and openness to new ideas. It also requires challenging yourself to write lengthier posts for your partner.

For interesting interactions that go deeper than simple introductions and “how’s the weather” RP, it is beneficial to try and include a few things in your starter post or scene. For me, I like to come up with 3 things to include for every starter I write.

1. A clearly defined setting. Like, what’s the time of day? Is it indoors or outdoors? In a city? Somewhere private? Etc.

2. A motive. Why is your character doing what he’s doing right now? What does he want in the scene right now? If he’s just standing around doing nothing, your RP partner has nothing to latch on to. In some way, what he’s doing should tie back to a goal.

3. A connection to your RP partner’s character in some way. Why is their character, specifically, involved in the scene? Know your partner, and try to learn about your partner’s character’s goals. See if both of your characters’ goals can converge.

If you have trouble coming up with an idea for your RP partner, it’s always nice to message them OOC see what you can plot together. If you approach, rather than be approached, and ask questions and try to plot, you will find you have a much easier time easing into RP with them, and you might make a new friend too!

And that’s it for now! The TL;DR to all this is: 1. Follow the Rule of Consent! 2. Give your character goals and motivations! 3. Learn about your partner’s character and actively involve them! If you have additional questions or want to know where I RP at, feel free to send me a message :D

[puppetwritings]

A Little Sprout of Love || Seungcheol || Pt. 3

Pt. 1 // Pt. 2 // Pt. 3 // Pt. 4 // Pt. 5 // Pt. 6 // Pt. 7 // Pt. 8 // Pt. 9 (FINAL)

Word Count: 1668

Genre: fluff, single-parent!au, daycare!au, casual writing

Summary: Seungcheol never thought he would be able to love again. He was distracted by his own daughter and he found it difficult to trust anyone. Love comes when one least expects it and Seungcheol certainly didn’t expect his daughter’s daycare teacher to be the one to plant the little sprout of love in his heart.

“Wow, that’s almost like a drama,” Jeonghan said, before he broke off a piece of the Peppero he was eating. He pointed the chocolate covered biscuit stick at Seungcheol, “You are the male lead.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes as he looked intensely at his laptop and turned back to his daughter’s head. He mumbled an apology to her as he took out the elastics from her hair and combed it out, opting to start over. “What do you mean it’s a drama?”

“A fated meeting!” Jeonghan said, sitting up from his slouched position. He spread out his hand across the air as if envisioning a headline. “Girl, a daycare teacher, goes to police station to retrieve someone—presumably her brother—and she meets a handsome young cop. Handsome young cop happens to be the father of the little girl who grew attached to her at the daycare. The two grow close because of silly misadventures and ‘haha’ rom-com moments. Girl falls in love with guy and boom—Ara’s got a new mother.”

Ara looked at Jeonghan, fascinated by the story.

“Good, huh?” Jeonghan asked, grinning at Ara.

“Not good,” Seungcheol said, glaring at Jeonghan. He turned his attention back to the instructions on his laptop monitor with a small pout. “That sounds more like a horror movie.”

“Only you would say love is a horror movie,” Jeonghan said blankly with a shake of his head as he laid back down. He plucked another stick of Peppero from its packaging and held it between his lips. “I think of this as a great opportunity to get you back out there.”

“It was on chance encounter.”

“A chance meeting and then a chance encounter? And your daughter will be there so there will be more encounters? This is a start.”

“Stop.”

“What? I’m just rooting for you, buddy.”

“You’re rooting for something that’s never even started,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “Now stop writing a novel and help me with her hair.”

“One of these days, I won’t be around to do your daughter’s hair for you. So, you gotta do it yourself,” Jeonghan replied.

“Don’t be so cold,” Seungcheol frowned.

“I’m being realistic.”

“Where are you even planning on going?” Seungcheol asked, pulling Ara back as she attempted to crawl away.

“I want to get married and have children too, Seungcheol.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “You? Okay, Mr. Novelist. Have fun with that.”

“I hate the lack of faith in your voice.”

“Your ability to stick to one lover is about as good as my ability to tie Ara’s hair,” Seungcheol said, sighing in resignation as he let Ara run off.

“That is very rude, I hope you know that,” Jeonghan said. “I would like to think I’m at least better than you being able to tie Ara’s hair.”

Seungcheol scowled at Jeonghan.

“You started it.”

It was true. Seungcheol sighed in resignation.

“So, you really think it won’t happen?”

“You getting settled?”

“No, you idiot, I’m talking about with that daycare teacher. You don’t think you two will click?”

“No…I doubt it,” Seungcheol shook his head.

“Is she cute at least?”

Seungcheol frowned. He thought about it. Were you cute? He wasn’t sure. He had only been looking at his daughter…but if he thought back to the night at the police station and as you stood outside, watching them pull out of the parking lot then… “Yeah. She’s pretty.”

“I asked if she’s cute, not if she’s pretty.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Yeah, kinda. Pretty feels like there’s a distance but cute sounds more like you guys are close.”

“Then why would I call her cute? I’ve only talked to her twice.”

“It’s been two weeks since you first took Ara to daycare and you’ve only talked to the teacher twice?!”

“Yes.”

“Why bother filling me in on these details then?”

“You asked me if you missed anything while you were gone,” Seungcheol replied a matter-of-factly.

Jeonghan sighed. “You’re right. Of course. Why do I even bother arguing with you?”

Seungcheol smiled at his friend. “Besides, who knows? Maybe she’s already got a lover or something.”

“Look at you. Putting yourself in a cage before she’s even had the chance to bait you. This is why, Choi Seungcheol, you’re not going to find another girlfriend.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“You don’t want Ara to have a mother?”

“You could have been her mother. You looked very beautiful with long hai—ouch.”

Jeonghan stared blankly at Seungcheol, his hand folding back against his chest. “Sorry, my hand slipped.”

Seungcheol picked up Jeonghan’s book and placed it on the coffee table. “Yeah? Thanks for that.”

“And I’m being serious, Seungcheol. I really do worry about you. Is that your preference? Men? I’ll find someone for you. I know a couple.”

“Just give it a rest, Jeonghan. I’m just not interested in anyone. I don’t want to be in a relationship.”

“Alright.” There was a pause. “Just tell me your preference at least—”

“I don’t have a preference.”

Jeonghan stared at Seungcheol blankly before readjusting his position on the couch. “Fine, I’ll stop.”

The summer heat was sweltering. It was probably the hottest summer of your life and you’d much rather stay indoors, but here you were, outside in the heat, watching as your little brother put the last of his bags into the car.

“You have everything?” you asked, a frown on your face as your little brother nodded. “Are you even going to be okay with our uncle?

“Y/N, it’s Seongwoo. When will I ever be okay with him?” Jiho asked, raising an eyebrow.

You gave him an unamused look that was quickly wiped off as Jiho pulled you into a hug. You smiled. “Alright, buddy, come on now. You’re going to miss your flight.”

Jiho pulled back, his lips pressed into a straight line. “You’re going to be okay right? None of our family is going to be here this summer…”

“I’ll be fine! And it’s not the entire summer. You’re always calling me an old lady but you don’t think I’m old enough to take care of myself?”

“I dunno. You’re usually pretty clumsy. And you’re moving into a new neighborhood too…”

“I’ll be fine, Jiho. Just have fun on your exchange program and come home safely.”

Jiho nodded and gave you one last hug before hopping into the car.

“Call me when you get there, alright?”

Jiho nodded again and the car pulled out, leaving you standing alone.

You sighed and swiftly turned back into your apartment, packing the rest of your things for the big move tomorrow.

You had been questioned on and off again why you had decided to move and the answer was simple; you wanted to be closer to work. If you were closer to work, you’d save money on gas and the area around where you worked was friendly and convenient. There wouldn’t be the loud, partying neighbors that came with a college town that valued the night life more than they valued sleep. And the traffic would be better.

It wasn’t because of some terrible, life issue that led you to this choice. It was just one of the natural things and you had always been one to follow the natural course of life rather than making big decisions.

So, when the day came for you to pack yours and your brother’s things into the back of a moving truck and drive an hour and a half to your new home, you didn’t bother taking one last sweep around your apartment. Your new apartment would be nicer and cleaner and larger. You weren’t sure about your neighbors but you hoped they would be something along those lines as well.

Your apartment was nice. Even with all your furniture, it seemed as if there would be lots of room once you packed away your things. That was good. Jiho had always complained about the lack of space before.

As you went down to grab the last of your boxes, you watched as the door next to yours opened. A handsome young man, looking like he was in his early twenties, came out. He wore a large, slouched shirt and rounded glasses as well as a pair of joggers. His hair was a dark brown and when he looked at you, you could see the bags under his eyes.

“Hello,” you greeted, realizing only after the fact that you had.

“Ah…hello,” he replied with a slight wave of his hand. He glanced at your open door and the boxes around your apartment. “Just moved in?”

“U-um, yes! I have. My name’s Y/N.”

“Jeonghan,” he shook your hand though his expression still remained neutral. “I don’t actually live here.”

“Oh, then…”

“Your neighbor is at work,” Jeonghan replied. “And I just happen to sleep here often. It’s much more convenient to live with another person.”

“But you just said you don’t live here?”

“He won’t let me live here,” Jeonghan said, blinking hard as if he were trying to force his eyes to stay open. He yawned again before bowing a fraction, “Well, then.”

You watched as he trailed to the elevator, a slouch to his shoulders as he headed to a lower floor. You stared at where he was and turned back to the boxes that you still needed to move in. What an odd fellow.

You had finished unpacking most of the boxes by the time it was nearly eleven at night and you heard chatter just outside the door. You moved curiously, pressing your ear against the door. Was it an argument? No, it was just loud chatter. You recognized the voice of Jeonghan and a man you weren’t familiar with along with a girlish voice. A child, most likely.

You pulled yourself away from the door and yawned, stretching as you trudged to the bathroom.  Perhaps you’ll run into them at a later time. For now, you could only think about the warm bath that would soon await you.