#I put way too much effort into these pages and accidentally burn myself out

[thelostkilns-comic]

Prompt 12 - Deku Tree Gives Directions

Beginning - <Previous - Next>

[juniormint1125]

A Beautiful Landscape - Lee Jihoon

THIS POST CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT!

Please read with that in mind.

A Beautiful Landscape

Lee Jihoon x Reader

The end of the semester was always hectic, but three things had made this last term chaotic. First, I had begun working on a research project that was proving to be the death of me. I had never imagined there would be so much controversy surrounding Neolithic pottery. Then, I had moved into my own apartment after living with the same circle of friends since undergrad. The peace and quiet I had dreamed of felt unexpectedly lonely. Lastly, I had met someone who had changed my life, quite literally running into him when I least expected it. A few weeks into the project, I had been at my wit’s end, searching for a physical copy of the book I was certain was the answer to the question my research team had been stumbling over for days. Even with everything I had access to as a professor, I had only been able to find snippets of the information I needed. Well over seven hours into a final effort to find my elusive source, the sun was creeping over the horizon, beginning to glare on my laptop screen. Just one more site, I told myself. If I can’t find it, then I’ll give up.

I clicked on a link for the online catalog of an obscure bookstore. Crossing my fingers, I reminded myself not to get excited. Nothing so far had managed to pan out. And I am not that lucky. Scrolling through page after page of books I had never heard of made my fingers were numb. I wiggled them to try and bring back some circulation. While stretching, I knocked my mouse off the desk. I reached down to pick it up, accidentally clicking the button. “Damn it!” I yelled, looking at the screen. How the hell had I managed to lose the results I had been sifting through? I decided to give searching a rest. Moving to close the window, something familiar caught my eye. Under the heading of “Special Collections” was the book I was looking for! I had to be dreaming. I frantically looked for to find how to find the book. At the bottom of the page was the store’s address. It sounded familiar. That street was only about a ten-minute walk from my apartment! I looked at the clock. If I hurried, I would have enough time to shower and grab something to eat before the store opened. I wanted to be there when the doors were unlocked. I wasn’t taking any chances. After a quick shower, I felt refreshed. I might be able to make it a few more hours before collapsing. I was now running on adrenaline from the excitement of finding the book. I was about to head out the door when my phone rang. It was the research team leader. I thought about rejecting the call, but I knew he would just call again until I picked up. I was short as he drug me through the same questions that I had answered a million times in the last few days. He asked if I had found the manuscript. “Actually,” I chirped, “I may have. I’m on my way now to check out a lead. So, I really need to go.” I looked at the time. I had already missed the opening, so I needed to hurry. I flew out the door and sped down the hall. I was certain my luck would run out and somehow, I would lose the priceless manuscript. I was distracted looking for an employee and didn’t see the stack of books by the entrance until I was falling. My embarrassing descent was slowed when I crashed into another of the bookstore’s customers.

I threw out my hands to catch myself, but it was too late. I landed on top of him, hovering inches from the bill of his navy-blue baseball cap. I scrambled to my feet, my entire body burning crimson. Standing upright, I apologized.

“It’s okay,” he said, dusting off his jeans. “Accidents happen.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” I babbled as I bent to pick up the sheet music scattered on the floor.

He chuckled as he knelt beside me. “It was definitely a little awkward.”

“God, I am so sorry,” I repeated, putting the music back in the bin. “Sometimes I’m a little…oblivious…to my surroundings.”

“It’s really okay,” he smiled.

An employee appeared from behind a nearby bookshelf. I apologized once more and excused myself. I needed to find the book. Once I had it in my hands, I was elated. I would finally be able to get a full night’s sleep!

In my state of delighted relief, I had forgotten about my earlier embarrassment. Then I found myself standing at the counter beside the same man I had pummeled. He was speaking with another employee, holding a sizeable stack of music. I studied his face as I shoved my change into my purse. He had been shockingly kind despite my clumsiness, and I hadn’t even bothered to look him in the eyes. I had been too embarrassed. I flinched as he turned in my direction. His deep brown eyes disappeared as he smiled, and tiny dimples appeared above his mouth.

“Uh…hello again,” I stuttered. “I really am so sorry about earlier.”

He laughed and told me again not to worry. As he turned to go, I blurted out, “Can I buy you a cup of coffee to make up for it?”

I scolded myself. What the hell was I doing? He had just been courteous. Now, he probably wanted to get as far away from me as possible.

To my surprise he agreed. I felt elated. Something about him was comfortable and calming.

As we saw more of each other, we easily fell into a routine. His good morning texts awaited me when I woke up and every evening, as I wished him good night, I reminded him not to stay up too late working. Friday nights were movie nights and Saturdays were for breakfast in bed.

Our routine was disturbed when he started preparing for the first comeback since we started dating. Face to face meetings were replaced by Facetime and movie nights turned into “I’m sorry, I can’t make it” texts. I had fallen in love with Jihoon’s passion for music, so I disguised my disappointment with homemade cookie deliveries to the practice room. Each time Jihoon would pull me aside and wrap me in his arms. He’d whisper his thanks, and each time, he’d be pulled from my arms by a member’s call back to practice.

It was lonely, but the quiet moments we spent in each other’s arms when he finally crawled into bed at dawn made everything worth it. To the outside world, he was blunt, unemotional, and unapproachable. But when he lay in my arms, with the rising sun streaming through the windows, he laid his heart out.

My sunrise Jihoon was soft and gentle. His words were caring and full of gratitude for my presence in his life. He never held back his feelings, telling me I was his safe space. He shared his worries, his frustrations, and his glee, always asking for and thoughtfully considering my opinions.

When he had cleared his mind and healed his heart, he would wrap his strong, steady arms around me and let his passion free. He was a gentle lover who took his time making sure I was always satisfied first. But, sometimes, when he returned from a particularly stressful day, undercurrents of a rougher, more dominant Jihoon would swirl to the surface. I was dying to test the waters and be utterly ruined.

Despite his openness during our sunrise cuddles, Jihoon was still shy when it came to our sex life. He was unrestricted in his interests, but hesitant to make the first move. When he did work up the courage to say something, he would blush and stutter. His flustered disposition was adorable to me, but he hated his embarrassment and inability to speak freely. So, I had learned, through close observation and slowly pushing limits, how to make him comfortable while giving him the utmost pleasure.

So, for a while, I had been testing him, doing little things that would be unobvious, to gauge his reaction. A webpage “accidentally” left open on our home computer. A magazine article I just happened to come across while he had been leaning over my shoulder. A new skirt, just shy of appropriate, hanging in the closet next to his favorite hoodie. A matching lingerie set in his favorite color that I somehow left lying on the bed after I put the laundry away. I dropped a thousand hints and waited for him to take the bait. He might be quiet and shy, but inside his mind, I knew the wheels always turned a thousand miles a minute.

The winter term was ending, and the culmination of my research project was close. I was absorbed with work, not always reachable. The “Did you eat?” and “How did you sleep?” texts started to come more frequently and the time he waited for my reply became increasingly smaller. It wasn’t like him to be clingy, but it seemed the less time I was available, the more passive aggressively he sulked.

Things started to slow down for both of us, and we finally managed to secure a few consecutive free hours that we could spend together. So, I laid all my cards on the table. I put on the matching lingerie in his favorite color that I hadn’t yet worn. I zipped up the less than appropriate skirt that had been hanging beside his hoodie. I refreshed the spicy amber perfume that drove him crazy and swiped on a glossy shade of crimson lipstick. If he doesn’t let go now, I thought, he never will.

I could feel his gaze burning through me as soon as he spotted me in the coffee shop. He was running late, so we decided to meet there. I had already ordered his favorite and it was delivered as he sat down beside me. His hand came to rest on my thigh, and he kissed my cheek to say hello. I noticed how firm his grip was as he asked me about my day.

“Will you go to the studio with me?” he asked as I finished my second cup of coffee.

“Ji!” I whined. “This is supposed to be a date night. No work.”

“Please?” he pouted. “There’s something I want you to hear. It’s not really work, I promise.” He ran his thumb across my knuckles, making me shudder.

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll give you five minutes.”

He helped me with my coat and as we exited into the cool night air, I shivered.

“Are you cold?” he asked. I nodded. He took off his scarf and wrapped it around my neck. “Maybe you should have worn something that covered a little more skin,” he grumbled as he took my hand.

I smirked. So, he had noticed. HIs studio was warm and inviting. He led me over to the desk, handing me the headphones. He sat down at the keyboard, and I stood beside him, my heart exploding to see him living his passion.

A slow beat began playing quietly in the headphones. It was beautiful. Every song Jihoon wrote was amazing, but this one was ethereal. The notes flowed from the headphones, washing over me like the voices of angels. I couldn’t believe how talented he was.

From behind, I felt the warmth of fingertips trailing the inside of my thighs. Powerful hands gripped my waist. A firm, easily recognizable pressure bore down on my back. I took off the earphones.

“What do you think?” His gruff voice echoed in my ear.

“It’s hard to say,” I teased. Nails dug into my skin. “Did you just start working on this?”

Roughly, he spun me to face him. He planted his hands on either side of me, and leaning in, forced me backwards with each inch of space he annexed. Devilry glinted in his umber-colored eyes.

“No, I didn’t,” he growled.

“Oh,” I replied, feigning ignorance. “It just sounds a little…raw.”

Jihoon inclined his body closer until I could feel the solidity of each muscle igniting the entire length of my torso. His voice was dark and laced with passion as he whispered in my ear.

“I’ll show you what raw sounds like.”

Internally, I was having a full-fledged victory celebration. My clever boo had taken every one of the puzzle pieces I had left him and fit them together to create a beautiful landscape neither one of us had visited, except in our dreams. I raised an eyebrow, challenging him to prove his declaration.

His lips crashed into mine as he forcefully lifted me onto his desk. Prying my legs apart, he pushed my barely there skirt over my thighs.

“Don’t ever let me catch you wearing this again,” he warned. His hands slid roughly inside my skirt, kneading the skin of my thighs. “This is mine and no one else gets to see any part of it.”

I gasped at the feral tone his voice had found. I was certain that he could feel the wetness soaking through my panties as he held his grip on me. I still had one more test for him.

“Okay,” I replied nonchalantly, shrugging my shoulders. I looked away from him and waited to see how he’d respond.

He gripped my chin, pulling me back to face him. He slid my panties to the side and my dripping core allowed him to easily thrust two fingers inside. My back arched and I moaned loudly as he commanded.

“You answer with ‘sir’ only.”

A huge smile spread across my lips as I responded. “Yes, sir.”

He smiled shyly back at me and tucked my hair behind my ear, stepping out of character for a split second. I understood what his smile was telling me.

“I love you too,” I whispered.

His soft smile faded, replaced by a menacing grin. I was reminded that his fingers were still inside as they began to barrel in and out of me. His other hand firmly cradled my neck. Then he was back, whispering in my ear. His voice was raspy and sent chills down my spine.

“Every part of you belongs to me. And right now, I want to see what’s mine.” He tugged on the collar of my shirt. “Take these off. Slowly.”

Withdrawing his fingers, he took his place back in the chair. His eyes were dark with lust as he waited for his directions to be followed. Jumping down from the desk, I turned away from him. Reaching behind me, I unzipped my skirt, sliding it past my hips, so that it would fall to the floor. Bending over, I heard a hum of approval. Before I could stand back up, his hands grabbed my ass roughly.

“Next time you buy lingerie,” he growled, “I choose.”

“Yes, sir,” I cooed sweetly, standing upright, turning to face him. His satisfaction was clear, so I continued my show. Slowly, I began unbuttoning my blouse.

“My angel is so beautiful,” he praised me.

“Thank you, sir.” I smiled, coming to the last button. I reached to slide the shirt from my shoulders, but he stopped me.

“Let me,” he ordered. As his hands slid the fabric from my arms, his lips trailed kisses in its wake. His teeth nipped the inside of my arm. “Mine,” he declared.

Sitting back down in his chair, he motioned for me to continue. I reached behind to unfasten my bra, dragging out the process of sliding the straps form my shoulders. Looking him in the eye, I hooked my thumbs under the band of my panties. Inch by inch, I slid them down. Taking them in my hand, I tossed them in Jihoon’s direction. He snatched them from the air, putting them to his nose and inhaling the scent of my arousal. Eyes never leaving mine, he groaned, then rose from the chair to join me.

With one hand wrapped firmly around my waist, he used the other to spread my legs. I heard his hum of satisfaction as he slid one finger up the length of my folds. I could see my wetness, slick on his finger, as he put it to his mouth, sucking slowly.

“Delicious,” he moaned. He stood back, eying my nakedness, but making no further moves.

“Please Ji,” I whispered a minute later.

“Please, sir,” he corrected me.

“Please, sir,” I repeated.

“Please, sir, what?” He drew out his words, each one making my core throb.

“Please touch me, sir,” I begged.

“Where do you want me to touch you, angel?” He teased, running his fingertips down my naked side.

“I want you to touch my clit,” I whined. His fingers traced circles around my nipples, and I could barely concentrate to form my words. I was becoming an incoherent mess under his touch.

“Here?” he asked. His thumb landed on my clit, drawing small circles around the already hardening bud. My eyes closed and I nodded my head furiously.

“I can’t hear you, angel.” His tone was a warning as his thumb stilled.

“Yes, sir, there,” I mewled. I was falling apart under his authority. I had never come that fast in my life, but I was so close already to reaching my high. He could tell I was by the way my body tensed.

He leaned in and whispered. “I want to hear you when you come, angel. Don’t hold back.” I was dangling on the precipice of ecstasy and his next words pushed me over the edge. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“Jihoon,” I cried as my orgasm washed over me. He gradually slowed his movements as I rode out my high. I felt as if I would collapse in his arms, but his grip on my waist held me firmly upright.

“So beautiful,” he cooed as he kissed my forehead. His tenderness was over in a second as he spun me around. I heard rustling as he unfastened his jeans, letting them fall to the floor. He rubbed the tip of his cock against my wetness without hesitating.

“Now,” he roared, “I’m going to take what’s mine.” With his last word, he rammed his length into me, slamming my pelvis against the desk with each thrust. His nails were again digging into the flesh of my waist, the pain registering as pure pleasure.

As my moans grew louder, his pace increased. He grunted with each drive. He only did that when he was agonizingly turned on, needing to come for relief. So, I was surprised when he stopped abruptly, whipping me around again. His actions were savage, but his look was tender. He was still my Jihoonie, no matter what had been unlocked inside him.

“Look at me while I come inside you,” he ordered. He thrust back inside, continuing the pace he had set moments ago. I held his stare, never looking away as he reached his climax. It was the most intimate moment we had shared. He rode out his final throes of passion and sighed.

“I love you,” he whispered, his eyes still locked on mine. I smirked and pulled him close, burying my face in his neck.

“I love you too, Jihoonie.” I could feel his smile against my hair as I whispered.

“Sir.”

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #253: CONQUERING VISION

March, 1985

The Vision vs. Quasimodo... in the heart of a machine!

ITS A ROBOT RUMBLE

ON THE INTERNET!

The Avengers seem very perturbed. Or maybe they’ve placed bets and are yelling at each other.

Anyway. Anyyyyyywayyyy.

Last time on Avengers: Vision became confined to a tube and was only fixed when Starfox hooked him up to Titan’s supercomputer ISAAC. While it helped Vision fix himself, it also seems to have changed his personality. Vision began conspiring with ISAAC to build a take-over-the-world-for-its-own-good device so he could take over the world for its own good and erase the evils and inequalities of man.

Vision was hesitant to pull the trigger on becoming a well-intentioned extremist and tried to gain power and influence by becoming the Avengers chairman and trying to make them more prominent with a branch team and closer ties to the White House.

But when anti-mutant arsonists burn down Vision and Scarlet Witch’s house during a new wave of anti-mutant fear, Vision decides ‘mmm yup, taking over the world time’. He distracts the Avengers by sending them to babysit the army as they poke Thanos technology that they shouldn’t poke and accidentally summon the Blood Brothers. And distracts Captain Marvel to go check out Thanos’ ship several light hours away past Pluto. Black Knight shows up unexpectedly but Vision shoves him into a tube to keep him out of trouble.

And now I guess Vision is going to fight Quasimodo the robot guy? Not sure how that fits in.

But first, some West Coast Avengers!

Like I said last time, they didn’t stop doing stuff just because their book is over.

Mockingbird happens to run into some drug runners while getting in some flight practice and figures heck why not beat up an entire boat full of gun-toting people as a light workout.

I guess the Quinjet can hover? Doesn’t seem to have thrusters or repulsors on the bottom or be a VTOL but hey, super advanced possibly Wakanda tech. It can do what it likes.

Mockingbird turns the drug runners over to the Coast Guard and returns to Palos Verdes and even gets to fly into one of those cool cliffside hangers disguised as a perfectly normal cliff. The West Coast Avengers revamped the hell out of the compound they bought.

Can you even legally excavate into a cliff like that? You can if you’re a superhero, I guess.

For some reason, there’s a fakeout where its implied Tigra is licking herself, cat style, but she’s just stretching. At least I hope the joke is that it sounded like she was cat cleaning herself and not something else.

One can never tell.

Anyway, I assume Hawkeye is just annoyed that he’s going to be vacuuming hair out of expensive equipment banks later. But really its that what if he threw a meeting and only he and Tigra came?

Mockingbird comes in not long after Hawkeye complains, slightly delayed from beating up drug runners. Wonder Man comes in shortly after, delayed by

FASHION

You know, this is a pretty great costume for Wonder Man. Its what all his modern outfits are based on when he’s not just dicks out energy man. I think I like the red jacket outfit more because being the only guy who dresses in ‘normal’ clothes while still looking somehow out of fashion with normal people fits for Wonder Man.

But I do love this one too. Its got a simple charm. Deciding that Wonder Man’s colors are black and red instead of Christmas green and red was a great decision and I’m sure that nobody will ever try to put him in red and green again.

Hawkeye grouses “Next, I suppose Iron Man will show up with a new chrome job!” but Iron Man is Sir Not Appearing in This Comic.

And the reason why is... looks like Tony and Rhodey are beating the crap out of each other in Iron Men armor this same month in Iron Man #192.

I don’t know the details but dammit Tony!

Anyway, over at last issue’s plot, the Avengers are still in Thanos’ ex-secret base in Arizona, still rolling their eyes and smh at the US Army for poking things what should not be poked.

Starfox and Scarlet Witch find a chamber blocked by rubble which has a symbio-nullifier which Starfox proposes to use to symbio-nullify the Blood Brothers.

First, he flexes on the US Army.

Army Guy: “It must weigh tons!”

Starfox: “Tons? Yes. But only about eight-and-a-half! Hardly any bother at all!”

Good flexing, Starfox.

Meanwhile, Captain America’s scolding has born fruit. The Pentagon has agreed to seal Thanos’ base, pending further investigation. And Colonel Farnam agrees because his training never prepared him to deal with MONSTERS FROM OUTER SPACE.

Also meanwhile, the army took pity on Hercules’ poor pantsless state and slash or were intimidated by it and have lent him a uniform.

He wears it as you’d expect Hercules to wear it.

With plenty of plunging neckline.

Since the Blood Brothers have a psionic link which makes them stronger the closer they are, Hercules has chained them up on very distant parts of the base.

But this precaution is rendered moot pretty quickly when Starfox returns with the  symbio-nullifier to symbio-nullify the Blood Brothers.

Starfox suspected that Thanos had one of these lying around as a precaution if he was going to let the Blood Brothers into his base.

Hercules lightly complains that he didn’t get a good fight with the Blood Brothers especially since the hordes of Muspell and Maelstrom’s wacky minions were interesting but not all that much of a challenge for the prince of power.

Back at the Avengers Mansion, the giant holographic head of Vision is still dealing with Dane Black Knight Whitman. Mostly by showing him video footage of how the other Avengers are tied up.

Dane is confused for multiple reasons, including that when last he heard Wasp was the leader.

Vision: “My failure to anticipate your arrival was an unfortunate lapse. I regret that, as a result, you must suffer the indignity of incarceration.”

Dane: “But... why?! What does keeping me in a tube accomplish?”

Vision: “It prevents you from interfering! You see, I have come to the conclusion that the only way I can fulfill my duty to make the Earth a safer place... is to run it myself!”

Dane: “What?!? But that’s crazy! Uh... I mean, you can’t possibly...”

Vision: “Exactly the sort of reaction I expected!”

Vision: ‘See, this is why you’re a tube boy now.’

Vision turns off the hologram saying that Dane will understand when its all over.

As usual when somebody says something like that, Dane isn’t reassured, just more convinced he needs to break out and warn someone.

I’m not sure if its not already too late since Vision is safely ensconced in his take over the world chair in his secret take over the world room.

ISAAC’s head hologram shows up to Vision and asks him what the delay is, chop chop get to taking over the world for its own good.

Vision: “Sorry, ISAAC... I was just remembering how much I enjoyed having a body.”

Oh my god.

ISAAC: “What’s the sense of that? This entire world will soon be your ‘body’! How can the mobility of a single humanoid form compare to that?”

Vision: “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, ISAAC. It’s odd, though, so many times others have controlled my body... the robot Ultron, the Mad Thinker, Necrodamus... All have tried to subvert my mind and take me over. And now here am I... about to initiate the greatest takeover of all. One would almost think there were some mad connection -- !”

ISAAC: “Vision! You must not tarry!”

.................. Um, okay. So, rather than just being influenced by his brush with death and also brush with supercomputer, I think Vision is being actively manipulated into this by ISAAC.

I don’t know why but I do know that Vision continues being a viable character for decades so he probably can’t be burning all his bridges here.

Anyway, Vision uploads his psyche into the internet.

And like immediately starts taking over everything. One page montage immediately. The Pentagon, Cheyenne Mountain, SHIELD, satellites, the Kremlin.

Presumably the best security systems in the world barely warrant a mention for Vision’s mighty synthezoid brain.

He’s pulling a Skynet (for the world’s own good, so he says) and its barely an effort.

The scenery of being on the internet is, I dunno, pretty standard? Bright colors  and dashes of light? I feel like I’ve seen it a lot of places.

But if we’re on page 13 of a book and Vision is effortlessly Skynetting, whats the rest of the issue going to be about? Interestingly, to me anyway, despite this being Vision’s turn villainous or well-intentioned extremist, another villain gets shoved in anyway for him to fight.

As Vision is nyooming around the Kremlin’s computers, he nearly runs into another AI, Quasimodo.

Helpfully, we get a recap of Quasimodo’s ENTIRE LIFE STORY because this is pre-fan wikis and I don’t think Quasimodo has appeared in Avengers before.

He was created to be the ultimate computer by the Mad Thinker but was abandoned when he developed a mind of his own.

Quasimodo was found by the Silver Surfer who used the cosmic powers of the Power Cosmic to transform Quasimodo from a computer into a robot.

Turning to the wiki for more information: He turns on Silver Surfer because he doesn’t like the body he got, so Surfer turns him into a stone gargoyle. Let that be a lesson about ingratitude.

Somehow, he stopped being a gargoyle and fought various people until he was defeated by the Fantastic Four and the Sphinx and wound up a disembodied intelligence in a Russian computer system. And here we are!

Quasimodo begs Vision to help him escape this digital hellhole but Vision just turns and leaves because he doesn’t have time for these shenanigans. And also because he knows Quasimodo is a villain who tends to turn on the people who help him so fuck that.

Quasimodo: “You know of my past - of my power - and you still would dare deny me?! There can be but one name for such as you... and that is fool!”

He then hauls off and punches Vision. Because they’re both digital intelligences on the internet they can punch each other and have a fight scene. That’s how internet works.

That’s why Mega Man X can beat up so many people in cyberspace.

Quasimodo says if Vision doesn’t help him get back to the physical world, he’ll destroy him.

Vision: “Now, listen to me... I am consolidating all computers worldwide. I gave up my own physical body to do this, and I’ll not tolerate any interference from the likes of you!”

Quasimodo: “You willingly abandoned your body?! You’re not a fool... you’re mad!”

Faced with an irreconcilable set of priorities, Quasimodo trips them both into “the irresistible currents of the IMPULSE VORTEX!”

Sure. That sounds like how internet works.

Meanwhile, over at Pluto is very far away, Monica Marvel nyooms past the moons of Uranus. Apparently her visual acuity is REALLY good because she takes in the scenery while she’s nyooming and finds it frighteningly beautiful out in the outer planets.

Anyway, Vision scolds Quasimodo for plunging them into a torrent. Which makes me laugh. Surely its too soon for torrents to be a thing. He’s just using it in a metaphorical sense.

Quasimodo tries to shoot EYE BEAM at Vision, which misses the digital synthezoid but obliterates an electron.

In a cutaway that would be at home in a Marvel movie, the scene briefly shifts to a Soviet computing center and a guy named Alexey complaining that his program just crashed.

Quasimodo does Vision some punches but Vision decides to start trying since Quasimodo’s attacks risk alerting people that something is amiss on the internet. And Vision’s powers work just as well on the internet as Quasimodo’s do. In fact, screw that, they work better! Vision just gets more and more powerful the longer he spends on the internet!

Vision: “You might have slain me earlier, but now this world is mine -- and there is no place in it for you!!”

And at Vision’s command the internet launches Quasimodo from Earth itself.

The internet can do that.

Meanwhile, back at Avenger’s Mansion, Dane Whitman determines that the tube he’s a tube boy in may look like glass but its as strong as steel. He’s not punching his way out of here.

But his recently uncursed cursed sword (the curse never stays not cursed for long so I hope Dane enjoys having a notcursed but very enchanted sword) is just a few feet away with the rest of his luggage. And there’s a mystic bond between himself and the sword so if he just thinks about the sword hard enough, surely it’ll manifest in his hand.

Like the Force but slightly more convenient.

Dane Whitman: Nothing’s happening. Must not... be concentrating hard enough! Maybe the link was broken with the curse. No... no, I mustn’t even think that! I need my sword! I must have my sword! I must!

He do it!

The Notcursed Ebony Sword appears in his hand and he slices through that steel glass like its just glass.

Meanwhile, over at Arizona, the Avengers finish up nullifying the Blood Brothers and putting them in suspended animation, or if you prefer, naptime timeout.

Captain America receives a buzz from Hawkeye who wonders what he’s doing within hailing range, ie in the western half of the US.

Captain America: “Arizona... government business... And I’m as surprised to hear you, as you are me! I take it that your team finished its mission in the Pacific early!”

Hawkeye: “Mission? What are you talking about, Cap? We haven’t been on any mission!”

Which is a dun dun dun considering their whole reason for being sent on this mission was that the West Coast Avengers were ostensibly busy.

And Vision lying about that raises a whole lot of questions for the Avengers.

Cap and Wanda Witch rush over to the Quinjet and contact the Mansion.

Vision: “Then you’re aware of my deception. I... am sorry, Cap. I didn’t want to mislead you, but I felt it necessary to carry out my plan.”

Scarlet Witch: “Plan? Vision, what do you mean? What have you done?”

Vision: “I... well, there is no easy way to put this... But I have taken over the world.”

You never want to hear “I have taken over the world” from a friend, unless its followed with “and I want to get you in on the ground floor of this exciting new opportunity.”

Vision promises the two that he’s taking over all of Earth’s computers for a really good reason like ending war and strife. And signs off by telling Wanda everything will be alright and that he loves her.

Aww?

Cap: “He meant it... he meant every word.”

Scarlet Witch: “He’d been upset lately, but I never thought... Cap, we have to stop him!”

Cap: “Yes. If there’s still time!”

DUN DUN DUN!

Follow @essential-avengers​ because I don’t know when I’ve been more excited to get to the next issue! Like and reblog?

[starrysebastians]

painkillers and something more [one shot]

pairing : bucky barnes x reader

summary : lingering glances and subtle touches are fine, but all it takes is a little injury to turn whatever this is into something more

a/n : listen this one shot wasn't planned but i'm on antibiotics and painkillers right now and instead of letting myself die i wrote this . so basically hurt and comfort and fluff to end my suffering (mentions of injury)

word count : 1.8k

When the end credits of the movie he was watching ended and he didn't have the will to get up from his comfy position on the couch to grab the other remote and turn the TV off, so James Barnes is currently facing a beaming blue screen — has been for at least a whole hour. It makes a buzzing sound he has now gotten used to, because he kinda likes having a background noise to avoid facing the deep and abyssal silence being awake in the middle of the night always brings. Tonight wasn't particularly plagued with nightmares, but the previous ones, and months of recons and missions have messed up his sleeping schedule enough for him to finally take Sam's advice and watch the numerous movies he recommended him to catch-up on the 21st century culture.

His eyes are now focused on a book, one he found lying on a table, the bookmark next to it rather than in between the pages so he figured the person reading it was done. There's a shuffling coming from the hall that makes him perk up, the book closing on the finger he put between the pages.

Muffled voices, a groan, and it's getting closer.

"C'mon, let's get you on the couch. I'll get you your meds." Bucky identifies it as Sam's voice, although it is softer than it usually is when he's joking around, lighter than it is over the coms during a mission. It has the same he uses when he tries to comfort someone after innocent bystanders were a mission's collateral damages, or when Wanda has a nightmares. "Here."

The ceiling lamp flickers on, making the little reading lamp next to Bucky's couch useless. Even when he is wide awake, he usually likes staying in the dark when it's nighttime. It helps with schedules and not getting completely disoriented, seeing the sky go from purple and pink to dark blue splattered in white dots to soft orange and light blue. Artificial lightning all night long just messes with your mind.

Shifting in his seat so that he can turn his head and observe the hall leading to the living room — more like a living floor, by the way, he frowns upon you and Sam. Rather, Sam holding you by the waist, walking ever so slowly as if you were gonna collapse as soon as he let you go. Bucky stands up straighter, a million questions popping up in his head — were you on a mission? no, you had one that lasted longer than usual because Fury needed you and you returned two weeks ago, and all you did the past few days was help run recon, collect intel… nothing to get hurt over.

He and Sam share a look, and he's not quite sure what that expression on his face is.

"Here. Just lie down," Sam says with his soft voice again as you tumble on the couch, hands on the leather to steady you as you try and lay down as gently as possible. "I'll be right back." Another pointed look at Bucky, and this time he slowly rises from his seat, taking two hesitant steps.

It's not that you and him are not close — in fact, he would say you're one of the persons he likes the most here. You work with SHIELD, but also with them, it depends on the missions and he likes how you're free to work with any organisation you like. You're independent, and not often in the compound. He enjoys watching you work and fight because you're so skilled it's impressive for a normal, non-enhanced human being, but maybe it's just everything about you he deems worthy of being stared at all day long.

There has been different moments shared. Unwinding times in comfortable silence and missions aftermaths, bundled up in soft blankets in the living room or numbly sitting in the quinjet as it flew back towards the compound. Briefing sessions, some with too many things at stake to share a joke, others where you both shared smirks and twinkling looks. One where you accidentally bumped your leg against his, that time Steve was explaining how you were going to take down a weapon-dealing business, which is a pretty easy task for all of you, and you decided your leg was going to stay right here. You even made the wise decision of hooking your feet around his leg, the warmth emitting from your tangled legs making Bucky bite his lip in order to stop a smile from breaking out on his face. You didn't hide yours.

There are also times when you don't get to bump into each other for months. Exhausting months when you both are on missions, deep down undercover — especially you, because the winter soldier's face, albeit masks and tricks existing, is well-known, contrary to yours which has been well-protected by every intelligence agency you have served. During those months, sometimes you're scared he's going to forget about you and your fleeting glances ; he's scared you're too busy with work for him to ever cross your mind. And you never really talk, you both just flirt and smirk and wink and sometimes it feels like it has to evolve into something more, but it has always been enough.

But you're currently moaning from pain on the couch right next to him and his face hurts from frowning so hard.

"Hey, what's going on?"

Another two steps (strides) towards you, a hesitant hand hovering next to you, not knowing where to go to provide comfort without hurting you further. You turn your head toward the sound of his voice, painfully, and squint as if everything was blurry.

"Hi," you drawl out, a lazy smile on your face. "I missed you."

A flutter in the stomach, a soft and content sigh.

"I missed you too. What happened? I thought you didn't have any mission coming up?"

"I didn't," you say and he frowns. "Remember that undercover mission where I got shot last month?" He nods and you wince before continuing. His gaze falls on your hip, because he remembers that gunshot, a bit too well. "Well, maybe I didn't really follow the doctor's orders. I mean, I did. I just got back to work too early. But it wasn't that deep. Like a flesh wound. But, anyway." Another wince. "Turns out it got a little infected. So I'm back on antibiotics and painkillers for a week."

It physically hurts him too, to see your glazed and glossy eyes, constant frown and lips turned downwards, but he still chuckles at your rambling, and the fact that you couldn't stand to stay on bed rest for more than two days. He crouches down next to you, pushing a strand of hair out of your eyes because you've been trying to get rid off it for the past minute by blowing air on it, but it just doesn't work.

"Yeah well please try and listen, next time," Sam's voice is back, and you just know he rolled his eyes. The sound of boxes and a glass clinking against the table can be heard, and he lays a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Here's the doctor's prescription. Antibiotics, painkillers, water. She probably won't sleep tonight." He crouches down too, a hand resting on her forearm. "I'm gonna let Tin Man here keep you company, alright? If I don't wake up for training tomorrow, Steve is gonna have my head."

You hum distractedly as you watch Bucky fumble with the prescription and meticulously prepare your pills, tongue stuck out as his blue eyes are squinted. Cleaning out his weapons probably doesn't require as much attention and care, and you can't help but laugh at his expression. A super-soldier, being able to aim at an enemy's head without even sparing him a glance, but putting so much effort into getting your meds right, and it makes your chest swell with something you can't quite place, but it's warm, definitely warm. Burning. He perks up at the sound of your laugh, only to send you a glare, and then a few seconds later he proudly hands you the right amount of pills.

"Thank you," you say with a smile, a hand lingering a bit too long on his skin. He helps you get propped up against the cosy and snug cushions and while you take your meds, he's busy finding you a soft and fluffy blanket, resting it on top of you.

"Here." He's sitting next to you again, leaning more and more every time you let a groan escape your lips.

"Would you mind knocking me off so I can sleep?"

An amused chuckle but a fond movement of the head, from left to right.

"You weren't sleeping?" You talk again.

He shakes his head again. "Nah. I was catching up on Sam's movie recommendation list."

"Can you put something on?"

It takes you ten minutes to decide on Blade Runner, and in fear of hurting you, he slides down against the couch again, his head thrown back a little and you can see his face if you look down, the colors displayed on the TV screen dancing across his soft and tired features. He's just so pretty.

You extend your left arm, and it is dangling from the couch, fingers softly brushing Bucky's shoulders. Scratching his neck, his ear. Running through his shiny locks, the smell of his shampoo invading your senses. He cranes his neck backwards to get a better look at you, and he notices your smile and the glinting in your eyes from upside down. You hum as his flesh hand grab yours, thumb stroking your skin. He lets it rest on his shoulder again, putting his attention back to the movie playing in front of him.

It takes another twenty minutes of gentle fingers running on his skin, insistent staring at his neck, back muscles, hair and shoulders, for you to talk again, painkillers having kicked in.

"Please come and lie with me. You're not gonna hurt me," your voice can't compete with the fight scene on screen, but you're leaning right next to his ear, and if he doesn't move for a second, he certainly heard you. "Hold me?"

This is the something more you have both been yearning for. There wasn't any moment that was right before, but this one is.

It takes a few minutes for the two of you to find a position that doesn't hurt your hip, lots of groans and painful winces. But then you're lying between his legs, back resting against his toned abdomen, head nestled in the crook of his neck with strands probably tickling his skin but he doesn't say anything because he likes the smell of your shampoo too, and he's warmer than the blanket.

That something more, the next step in a dynamic based on small smiles across the quinjet and subtly tangled legs, is going to have to wait until you don't have to ingest the highest dose of painkillers humanly possible to move without wincing, but it is there. Hanging in the air, waiting to be seized. In the way Bucky holds you, runs the back of his flesh hand up and down your arm, and softly kisses your neck.

[captainchrisfics]

Endgame Interviews and Special News

About: As per the request of @rororo06 , Chris Evans and the (first person pov) reader are married and going through a round of press interviews, although the plot of Endgame isn’t the only thing they’re worried about spoiling (hope you don’t mind that addition to the plot!)

Words: 2,600

A/N: Featuring the lowest key hint at what could possibly be considered a spoiler, lines lifted straight from Chris and RDJ’s dialogue in The Avengers, and a reference to a quote from my favorite author, Jandy Nelson.

“So, this is potentially the last time we’ll see the two of you in the MCU. I’d imagine that feels pretty weird, huh?” The interviewer asked, sitting a little closer to us in her chair that looked so much comfier than the folding ones Chris and I have been sitting in all day. I felt bad for omitting her name from my memory. I really did try to remember, but this is our seventh question session of the day and there reaches a point where they all kind of blur together and you forget things. I made an effort to push the thought of exactly why forgetfulness was plaguing me way worse than usual out of my mind in the hopes that it wouldn’t accidentally slip from my mind to my mouth during this Q and A.

“I think I can speak for the both of us when I say that after shooting so many of these, getting back on set sort of feels like coming home,” Chris said with his Boston accent accentuating his vowels in a way I would’ve laughed at if it were just the two of us. “Granted, it’s in the same weird way a high school reunion does.” The interviewer giggled at that and tried to hide her blush behind her notes, but I’ve gotten pretty good at catching the flirty eyes women gave my husband and how their voices raised a couple octaves around him. I couldn’t blame her, Chris has always had this disarming charm about him and I was secure enough to know he wasn’t entrancing her intentionally. Chris intertwined his arm with the one I had sitting on his armrest, never knowing where the blurry boundary of my personal space ended and his began, and held my hand. “What do you think, babe?” he asked, turning his baby blues to me with his attention and perching one eyebrow higher than the other. I nodded in agreement and added, “We’ve watched them grow so much over the years, it feels more like sending our kid to college.”

The interviewer cleared her throat and turned to me, more serious now. “I mean, I grew up watching these movies over the last decade. Being one of the first female heroes in the series, you’re someone little girls everywhere have been looking up to for a long time now,” she said, eyes boring into mine the way they do when conveying the kind of admiration someone had when they saw you as a hero, despite the fact that all I did was pretend to be one. The appreciation people who could see a reflection of themselves in your mirror, one that the screen didn’t show them too often, wasn’t something I’d ever get used to. “Thank you,” I said earnestly, placing a hand over hers. “I can only take so much responsibility, though. The most amazing women in this industry from the cast to crew work on these movies, standing alongside them has been one of the biggest honors.”

Chris smiled down at me as I spoke and stretched to wrap his arm around me and I leaned into his side comfortably, giving into the giant magnet always pulling us together. “Your relationship has been something so many fans loved seeing develop on and off screen as well. Any clue as to how your characters will be affected by the Endgame?” she asked, tucking one index card behind another. I started twisting my wedding ring around my finger unconsciously, thinking about how crucial this franchise was in bringing us together for the first time in a while, with a new sense of nostalgia. It wasn’t a secret that our contracts were up and, as excited as we both were to move on to new projects, there was a bitterness sprinkled in with the sweet when I thought about hanging up our superhero costumes for the last time.

Chris was established as Captain America in his origin story, but I was a new addition on the set of The Avengers. Still, the role wasn’t as second nature to him then as it is now. He didn’t feel as though the shield felt right on his arm. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to Chris, but that’s not why I invited him back to my trailer after a particularly stiff scene, even though when he tells the story it’s because his blue eyes and high cheekbones ignited an irrevocable love for him within me and a burning need (not desire, need) to be in  his presence every moment I could. It was an exceptionally humid day, made worse by our heat-trapping supersuits, which grew into a sticky summer night spent sat in my trailer going over our lines for hours on end. There was something I noticed about the way Chris was carrying himself during our scenes together that was so unnatural, I just hoped to help him grow more comfortable with me so the camera wouldn’t pick up on whatever was bugging him next time we were on set.

We were at this part where everyone’s arguing, shouting over one another while Loki’s scepter glowed behind them. Chris and I were standing a little too close for comfort, sandwiched together by the counters in my thin trailer, which made it increasingly difficult to stay in character. “Why shouldn’t the guy let off a little steam?” I said with faux nonchalance in reference to Bruce’s growing temper, slapping my hand on his broad shoulder. Chris shook the script in his hand to stiffen the pages, staring at it intently before turning to me with a dramatically furrowed brow and tight jaw. He slapped my hand away, shoulders heaving as he breathed heavily with acted anger, and said, “You know damn well why so back off.” Chris took a small but threatening step toward me, looming just inches away. Although the harsh lines of his bone structure and intensity in his stare made Chris that much more intimidating, I tried to rely on my character’s own unabashed smugness as I rolled my shoulders back and crossed my arms, playing his challenger. “Oh,” I said, eyes dragging from the frown on his lips to meet those gorgeous blue eyes. I tried to step back, as the script directed, but my back hit the cabinet. “I’m starting to want you to make me,” I said lowly, conscious of my breath fanning across his face.

Instead of saying his next line, Chris threw his script down on the tabletop. He closed what was left of the little space between us by reaching out and caressing my cheek. His other hand slipped behind me, resting on the small of my back. Our chests rose and fell together, brushing against each other with every breath. His eyes searched mine, looking for permission. When his mouth opened and closed like a fish, trying and failing to find the words, I kissed him. It was slow at first, soft and uncertain as our mouths melded together, but before I knew it everything was on fire. I felt hot, every inch of skin Chris touched burned for his attention again. So did he, with the way his blood rushing turned his skin into a radiator. I wasn’t thinking about it as Chris pushed his hips into mine and sucked on the skin of my neck, leading me to the trailer’s sorry excuse for a mattress, but I read somewhere that when people fall in love they burst into flames, which I think is as true as the sky being blue.

Although, watching the movies now, it’s clear there was always some sort of tension between us if you know what you’re looking for. In the scenes we shot before that day, Chris stood straighter around me and puffed out his chest while I walked with an embarrassingly prominent sway in my hips. After though, even by the next morning, it was clear to everyone we’d grown more comfortable together. We found our rhythm and it showed, causing the directors to pursue an on-screen relationship between our characters. Chris and I didn’t complain too much about getting paid to do what we already were anyway.

“Would you agree?” Chris inquired, tracing the tip of his thumb along my shoulder to regain my attention. I nodded absentmindedly, focusing on trying to keep the blush in my cheeks to a minimum. My hand floated to where it rested on my stomach without me noticing while I was reminiscing, which I pulled away quickly and prayed no one would notice in the recording’s shoulders-up shot. “So I think we’ll see a new side of Steve,” Chris reiterated the point I’d missed. “At this point, I’d say he’s willing to stop at nothing to get her back after she got dusted in Infinity War,” he elaborated, moving the light line his finger brushed against my shoulder a little higher to draw shapes on my exposed skin, sending shivers down my spine. Chris either didn’t know or didn’t acknowledge the effect he was having on me as he kept talking without breaking the interviewer’s eye contact. “It’ll be interesting to see how he handles really losing everything for the second time now.”

She nodded solemnly and gave his words a minute to hang on suspense in the air before leaning toward me as she shifted her attention again. “Your chemistry is so clear on screen, you two get along effortlessly. I was wondering if it’s like that in real life as well?” I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at the assumption, knowing that suppressing my anger every time I had to pick up the socks Chris strewn all over the apartment since he refused to put them in the laundry each time he peeled off another pair sure as hell wasn’t even close to resembling effortlessness. “Sorry, it’s just… of course it isn’t,” I said, causing Chris to feign hurt as he pressed his hand to his heart and joked about me twisting the knife. “No, really. We’re real people. We fight over the stupidest things,” I insisted. Chris nodded, bringing up how the third world war almost broke out in our kitchen this morning after I discovered he finished my favorite cereal and put the box back. I fired back by mentioning the time he lost the screaming match over whether we should record the Patriots game or the premiere of my favorite show.

“At the end of the day, I love him,” I said, as Chris placed his hand over mine. “It’s like stumbling through the house when you’re sloppy drunk,” I paused to allow Chris the time to throw his head back in the laughter I knew was coming, the kind that pulled his hand to his pec as he sunk into his seat. “Really,” I implored once he finished. “Sometimes it’s dark and you have no clue where you’re going, but you figure it out. It isn’t perfect, you forget to take your makeup off, we fight, but you put on your pajamas and choose to land on your soft bed instead of the floor, which feels like exactly where you’re supposed to be. It’s where you fit in the world but you have to make it work, too.” I turned to Chris who met me with a quick peck on the lips. The interviewer cooed, calling that the sweetest thing she’d ever heard though her tone told me that wasn’t the case. “You wouldn’t think it was so cute if you poured your heart and soul out in your vows and she stood at the altar and compared you to a drunk night in front of your whole family,” Chris dramatically pinched in between his eyes to drive the joke home to the woman across from us, who genuinely believed him for a second until we both burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry on Marvel’s publicists’ behalf,” I apologized, wiping a tear from my eye. “They really should know better than to put us together for these things, being twenty-two movies deep and all.” The interviewer chuckled lightly and I could tell her patience was running thin as she tried to reign Chris and I back in. She asked the usual concluding question: if there was anything more we could say about Endgame without losing our jobs.

“Whatever you’re expecting, I guarantee you’ll still be surprised,” I promised. The interviewer raised her eyebrows and laughed, joking about how ominous that sounded. I just shrugged, letting my answer speak for itself in an attempt to be mysterious. And to avoid breaking my contract, spoiling the movie, and being sent to that training camp they made Ruffalo attend. Chris contemplated the question a little more than I did before saying, “It’s definitely an ode to the fans, which is my favorite thing about it. I’ll guarantee,” he said, shooting me a pointing look coupled with a knee-weakening smirk, “that they’ll love watching it as much as we loved making it.”

Chris thanked the interviewer and excused himself to the snack table while I shook her hand. We were only afforded short breaks between shots, which he intended to make the most of by stuffing as many grapes into his mouth as possible. I met him there and took a donut that disappeared in mere minutes. “You know what else I really loved making?” Chris whispered to me with incisive eyes aimed at my stomach, taking advantage of our few moments alone today to poke fun at me. “That’s such a weird thing to say,” I remarked, crinkling my nose at his comment. “I know,” he laughed, popping another grape into his mouth. Before swallowing he cocked his head toward me and said, “You know what’s worse? I actually almost said that.” I rolled my eyes as I giggled at him. “Imagine if that’s how everyone found out we’re pregnant,” I entertained the idea, laughing harder at the absurdity. I could just imagine the YouTube comments now. Maybe even an E! News headline that went something like: Chris Evans Spoils Pregnancy Instead of Endgame. Chris shrugged sheepishly, taking a step toward me as he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me into his side. “I can’t help it, I’m just so excited,” he grinned down at me, staring at me with soft eyes. My gaze met his, making me melt from the inside out. “Me too,” I said quietly, wrapping my arm around his waist and bumping our hips together as we fused. “Don’t you think it’d be a fun way to tell everyone? Like hey guys, we’ve got some special news- here’s the link to our pregnancy announcement!” Chris tried to get me to give in. “It’s still way too early and-” I started, until the director cut me off.

“You two, back on set!” he called Chris and me back to our chairs to start the next round of interrogation. This time the interviewer was a young kid who gaped at us with a grin so big it looked like it ached. He was dressed as Captain America, which Chris kept insisting would be our baby’s first Halloween costume, so I knew he was about to be putty in this boy’s hands. “Don’t slip now,” I reminded him, shooting Chris a threatening look. His head ping-ponged between me and this kid who sat in a folding chair, legs dangling above the floor. “But-” he started, until I squeezed his hand a little harder than necessary to prove my point. “Fine, but this is harder than not spoiling the movie, you know?” Chris groaned playfully before walking toward his seat again, ready for another Endgame interview.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Girl you need (G.D.)

Summary: Best friends to lovers don’t always work out in your favor.

Warnings: angst, swearing, implied smut

Word count: 3200

Part 2

What’s that saying? Friends to lovers is the best way to build a lasting relationship? Maybe it’s just what I’ve been saying my whole life in an effort to convince myself the feelings I’ve developed were a start of a fairy tale and not a tragedy.

It seems as if every time I had feelings for a guy, they remained unreciprocated. I’d get the textbook line: you’re too perfect to end up with a guy like me, or the occasional: you deserve the world, but I can’t give it to you. Whichever excuse they used, the end result never changed: I wasn’t good enough.

I was never the girl the guys choose and whether I liked it or not, it started to truly affect me.

Confidence slowly dwindled, my beliefs about love faded and worst of all...I stopped letting people in. I’ve shut my heart inside a treasure chest like a precious gem, locking it and forgetting where the key is. A small part of me knowingly lost the key, because if you don’t let people in you won’t get hurt. And I was tired of the hurt.

But then he came into my life.

I found that every question I had, he became the answer to it. The key to my treasure slowly came out of hiding and he personally dusted it off. Now he holds it in the palm of his hand and I am terrified just as I am excited about the prospect of finally being the one.

Grayson...

He is an ambivert, a social butterfly unlike me. He commands every room he enters, while I’m usually hiding in the corner. His aura attracts people by nature and I’m not even sure he understands how powerful his charisma is.

He is intuitive, but he doesn’t let his mind rule, rather his heart. He likes to listen to his heart instead of logic, which is why he gets hurt more often than he’d like to admit. Wearing his heart on his sleeve has marked him a target for those who have anything but good intentions in mind. I know he suffers for it, but I’m always there to make him laugh. Regardless of what I’m doing, I drop everything and help him nurse his wounds. I’ve always been the type that followed my heart, until I forced my brain to step up to protect the weak muscle inside me. He taught me to listen to my heart again, but to bring my brain along for the ride as well.

Grayson is an open book, pages filled with stories I ache to read and a main character I could never get enough of. He’s the type that inspires, bringing out the best in people. Instead of overthinking he overfeels, he’s determined and passionate, altruistic, but he burns out easily. I’m there to help him heal when that happens, whether it be a movie weekend in or a wild adventure where I’m a 100% sure I’m going to die most of the time.

He’s very determined and passionate about things and people he loves. I’ve felt it first hand. He’s got so much love inside him that it’s bursting out the seams, but most of it goes in vain. I tend to be the one to grab any leftovers and bask in his caring nature.

Grayson and I have a connection that surpasses the physical, a deep emotional tether that I’ve been relying on heavily. While we’ve never been more than good friends, the lines between friendship and love have been blurred for the longest time now and I no longer knew where the scale will end up once its tips over.

Sometimes it’s his arm around me, resting on my shoulders casually or his hand on the small of my back that remains in its spot for so long I feel his touch turn to fire. Other times it’s his fingers trailing up and down my spine as I nestle in his side, my head on his chest and his lips ghosting my forehead as his breath moves a few stray hairs out the way. Maybe it’s about the look in his steadfast brown eyes that seem to soften whenever they rest upon me, or the striking smile his lips spread into whenever I walk into the room. Perhaps it’s the warmth of his touch and how I’ve never felt safer than in his embrace, but most of all, it’s about the way he didn’t pull away when we accidentally kissed.

Both going for a cheek, Grayson and my lips connected and although I felt my brain falter and my heart jump, I was sure he’d step back and rub the back of his neck nervously as an awkward chuckle graced my ears. But he didn’t. He barely even flinched before his lips lustfully captured mine for a deeper kiss and his eyes closed as we got lost in each other. I nibbled on his bottom lip tenderly, dragging it between my teeth to assert dominance and the moment his soft flesh escaped my hold, Grayson made sure I knew he was the dominant one. He gripped my thigh tightly, turning needy and every move I made that resulted in our lips parting was a new groan rolling off his lips. We became a mess of tangled limbs, sweat and heavy breathing, moans I’ve stifled by biting into his shoulder as each of his thrusts made me feel like I’ll unravel. It was perfect.

If I knew what I know now, I’d never let it go down.

“I’m just so tired.” I mumble into the phone, making up an excuse to ditch my nightly outing so I could spend the night with the guys, hoping Grayson and I can talk about what happened that night.

When I woke up the next morning, all I found of him was a note on the pillow where his head used to be, the sheets on his side of the bed cold and empty without him.

Last night was just what I needed. It was perfect.

Not exactly the most romantic thing he’d ever said as I’ve seen and heard him flirt with girls. The note just didn’t sit well with me. Knowing him, I half expected to wake up to banana pancakes and a big cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows. A part of me truly believed this night would make him want to bridge the blurred lines between us and finally try and see if there was something to explore at all.

Before last night, I had never let myself feel anything for him no matter how hard my very soul wanted to give in and love him with every fiber of my being. Last night all my doubts have gone, all contingency plans ruined and my damn key was no longer mine.

But Grayson always says he’s not looking for something serious right now. He keeps saying he’s had too many relationships that poisoned him from start to finish and he needed some fresh air and fun.

Was I that fun? Would he do that to his best friend?

After not hearing from him at all, I decided to drop by and initiate the talk myself. I need to know where we stand.

“He’s not home.” Ethan shrugs, letting me inside and I bite my lower lip.

“Thought he’d be here.” I mumble to myself, wondering where he went. I didn’t have to wonder for long as Ethan had the answer prepared for me.

“He’s out with his girlfriend. Tessa, remember?” Ethan raises a brow in question, looking at me a little more intently than usually. His brown eyes scan what’s most likely a shocked, hurt look in mine and I see his frown form slowly and deeply.

“He, uh. He didn’t say they were official. Or anything really. Thought she was just a friend.” I stumble over my words, unsure what to say when my brain feels as if it’s just been drained of any shred of intelligent thought.

“They’ve been dating for a month, Y/N.” Ethan informs me and I find my serious demeanor change into a hurt, almost panicked, high pitched giggle followed by tears in my eyes.

“You good? Kinda scaring me there.” Ethan takes a step closer, pocketing his phone for the first time since I came in. He’s always on that damn thing. My outburst must have truly scared him. I’m never the one to lose my composure.

“I. I’m fine.” I manage to slip out between the giggles, placing a hand over my chest as a ragged breath comes through to my burning lungs.

What the hell am I supposed to say? I think I’m in love with your brother who is also my best friend but he also never told me he’s official with someone and we had sex last night? I don’t think that’s a good idea.

“If you’re so fine, then why are you crying?” Ethan counters, outstretching both arms, leaving his chest wide open for me to fall back on.

And I do.

His arms wrap around me in a protective way, his chin resting atop my head as he listens to my giggles turning into sobs. The strength he holds me up with is enough for me to feel the uncontrollable trembling inside me had now become evident outside as well.

We moved to his bedroom, lying in bed in embrace as I soaked his shirt and smeared make up all over it. The very make up I put on to look cute for his twin.

He waited patiently for me to run out of tears to cry, slowly until my sobs stopped and my chest hurt with the ragged, sharp, pained intakes of breath that came erratically in comparison to his even breathing. My head hurt, my sniffles forced me to blow my nose multiple times and now I had no more in me to move. So I allowed myself to close my eyes and rest on Ethan’s chest as his hand rubbed my back gently, moving in soothing circles.

The door swung open, startling me into opening my eyes and I quickly sit up and face the source that was blatantly unaware of my presence and blurted out a request before focusing on me with widened eyes and parted lips.

“Ethan, turn up the music cause I’m about to f - Y/N?!” He says my name like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like my eyes aren’t bloodshot and puffy from crying my heart out, like he wasn’t about to just say he’s about to fuck another girl. His girl.

“I’m gonna go.” I wipe the nonexistent tears with the back of my hand and move to stand, finding it hard and disorienting for I stumble forward and almost fall into Grayson.

Ethan jumps after me, trying to stop me from leaving while Grayson reached out to grab me and... I don’t know what he wanted to do...steady me? Stop me and ask me not to tell his girlfriend he cheated on her? Whatever the reason may be, I slapped his hand immediately, on instinct. I couldn’t handle his hands on me right now. The thought of his touch made my physically ill.

“What the fuck is going on between you two?” Ethan whisper shouts, peering over Grayson’s shoulder to make sure we’re alone and he can speak freely.

I wrap my arms around me, avoiding their gaze at all costs as my attempt to bypass Grayson once more fails.

I push him back, growing aggravated with him and the pain I’ve held inside quickly turns into anger.

“Will you stop trying to leave and talk to us like a normal human being?!” Grayson shouts and I flinch, taking a step back in genuine fear. He never yells at me. Never. It’s the first time I haven’t felt safe nor happy around him. The first time I wanted to be as far away as possible. I can’t say I’m afraid he’ll hurt me, because there’s nothing more painful than what he already did, but I’m not good with angry outbursts directed toward me. I’ve never been able to handle people yelling at me and he knows this.

He tries to touch me again, but Ethan steps in this time around as I recoil from his brother like a wounded animal.

“What the fuck did you do, bro?” Even in my state, I could hear Ethan’s voice lower and his tone darken with a looming threat as if he’s speaking through his teeth.

“I - We made a mistake last night, okay?” Grayson whispers, making sure his girlfriend can’t hear as his eyes meet mine with the statement.

“Wow.” I scoff, shaking my head. Ethan turns back to look at me, his confused eyes flickering between us, awaiting an explanation.

“Nice to know that’s what you see me as.” I sneer, allowing the anger to fill me once more and the poison spread through my veins.

“I have a girlfriend.” Grayson insists, pressing his lips into a tight line and I nod to myself, pursing my lips.

“Didn’t seem like she crossed your mind while you were balls deep inside me.” I’m a lot of things, but crude has never been one of them. Until now. Even I’m surprised with the venomous words spilling from my mouth, noticing how Ethan’s jaw dropped to the floor with my statement.

“So why did you do it? Huh? To fuck with me and my feelings? Or is it to sabotage not only what you have with the clueless girl in your bedroom but also whatever the fuck connection we had?” I feel myself growing frustrated with him and the silence that hangs in the air as he looks anywhere but in my eyes. He never avoids eye contact, insisting it’s the proper way to talk to someone. I see his jaw clench and his face twist in an almost pained grimace and I know I struck a chord.

“What was last night to you? What am I to you?” I hit my palm against my chest in affect, not feeling but hearing the thud that comes with it.

“I’m not trying to hurt you Grayson, like you’ve done to me. This isn’t a quid pro quo thing. But after everything you’ve learned about me...after all this time, can you honestly tell me you didn’t do what you did because you actually live for the drama and pain in your life? Is this who you’ve become, because it feels like it is? Your life was doing so well that you felt the need to sabotage it so you can revel in the pain of losing not only me, but possibly the girl you came home with?” I know I’m right. It’s because he’s become who I used to be and who he just turned me into once more.

“Fuck you.” Grayson writhes, rage taking over him as well and I see his arm muscles contract under the pressure of his self-imposed control.

“I want her. I want HER.” He repeats, emphasizing and I chuckle dryly, putting my hands on my hips as the last shred of my heart shatters and I remember why I kept it hidden for so long.

“Ever heard of that saying...Don't leave a girl you need for a girl you want.” I remind him of the word he wrote himself, one that I hoped would be a powerful blow to his heart as it is to mine.

“You know...All my life, I’ve tried so hard. And I’m never the one. I’m always the second choice...third choice even! And you say fuck you....well, someday someone will. I can assure you it won’t be you. Ever again.” I run a hand through my hair, moving toward the door he’s no longer blocking and I find myself locking eyes with him for the first time since we started this talk.

“This...whatever it was..” I gesture vaguely between us.

“It’s over.” I swallow thickly, praying I keep it together for a moment longer.

“I’m so stupid for even allowing myself to think you might be different from all the other guys I had feelings for. I thought you’d realize that last night actually meant something to me. That you’re the only guy that’s ever made me fall in love and open my heart to someone again, but in the end it only made the heartbreak deeper and so much worse than anything I’ve ever felt.” I take a step into the hallway, feeling like my chest is about to cave in as the emptiness inside is now a hollow chasm where the bad outweighs the good and everything I wanted to believe in again is lost in the darkness once more.

“Wait.” Grayson grabs me by the arm, pulling me back and around to face him and I use both hands to stop myself from plummeting into him. Palms pressed against his chest, I push back, but his hold on me grows so much stronger that I’m sure I’ll have a bruise to join last night’s collection with a single, but major difference in its inception - last night was passion and this is desperation.

“You felt something for me?” The incredulous look in his eyes is enough for me to be sure he was blind to it all, like I’ve just opened his eyes to a whole new world of possibilities he could have never anticipated.

“Grayson?” A voice sweet as honey comes from across the hall and I can’t help but turn in its general direction. I follow the voice to a stunning girl whose curly locks fall across her almost bare chest, the rest of her body on display in the skimpy underwear she stripped down to.

I bite the inside of my lips, trying to hold myself together as I turn my head back to Grayson who didn’t move his eyes from me. He’s waiting for my answer, but I already gave him one. He chose the girl he wanted over the girl he needed...he can suffer the consequences for all I care.

Tapping his chest lightly with my right palm, I push away from him again and free myself of his relentless hold. His lips part and his eyes water as I take a couple steps back, my own vision turning blurry with the scene. In this moment, both our hearts broke, I could tell. But once I turned my back on him, there was no room for looking back. Not even when Ethan called after me, begging me to stay and talk through this. Not when I heard a thud as if Grayson’s legs gave out and he fell to the floor. Not when Tessa asked for an explanation, half screaming at Grayson.

I can remember being nothing but fearless and truly happy with him by my side, but we’ve become echoes and echoes, they wither, fade away and die.

Tags: @xalayx @fallinginlove-16 @accalialionheart @heyits-claire @daddygraysonsbitch

[elenajohansenreads]

Books I Read in 2020

#114 - In Other Lands, by Sarah Rees Brennan

Around the Year: A book about a non-traditional family

The Reading Frenzy: Read a book about friendship

Mount TBR: 102/150

Rating: 2/5 stars

Oh, boy, this is going to be messy. Unpopular opinions ahead!

What did I like about this? Luke is a treasure. He is best boy. I cannot fully express with mere words how much I love this child and need him to be happy. He is the only reason I finished this book.

As for the rest of it, I can give passes to a few things it attempted to do but failed to achieve, and I dislike the rest.

I'm always harping about the missing b-word, so credit where credit is due, Elliot eventually grows comfortable enough with his sexuality to actually use the word "bisexual." Several times, in fact. I don't mind that it took him so long because it's obviously part of his coming-of-age arc. I'm less impressed with the fact that he is, by far, the one with the most active sex life, because while it shows that it's possible for someone to learn and grow from failed relationships, even that young, it also plays into the promiscuous, flighty stereotype. The text does attempt to address this in the later stages with Elliot bracing for someone to reject him for admitting he's bisexual, but it's little more than a lampshade acknowledging that he fits the stereotype. As a bisexual person myself, I'm honestly conflicted about this, because there's some good and some bad about Elliot as bi rep.

I think that pales in comparison to his place in the story as the outsider with a clear savior complex. While it's not "white savior" in the classic sense, because everyone in this book is white, it's impossible not to view the various fantasy species as Other when so much of the plot revolves around inter-species tension, whether it's on the societal or personal level. But here comes Elliot, the snarky bratty pacifist who's so much smarter than everyone else, he's going to prove to this entire fantasy world that war isn't the answer and his way is soooooo much better. The fact that nearly everyone in our world would agree--war is awful and we'd be better off without it--doesn't mean he isn't tromping in to impose his thinking on inferior (to his view) cultures. I can agree with his moral viewpoint without endorsing his actions or attitudes.

Also, I don't like Elliot as a person. I can't simply label his meanness as bullying, because that implies he's seeking some sort of power over the people he mistreats, and he mostly isn't. He's just a deeply unpleasant person who takes literal years to realize other people have feelings too, and his behavior for 70% of the story is disgusting and cruel. I can tell I'm supposed to like him, because oh look he's a sad boy with a bad home life and he's unwanted and unloved and that's why he's the way he is...but I stopped falling for that trick years ago. I've had enough people in my life who were constantly, offhandedly cruel but somehow expected me to understand that they didn't really mean it, they were just joking, hey why are you so offended. But that's not even the case with Elliot, because we're inside his head, and he's not joking. He really does think everyone else is stupid, and even by the end of the book when he can grudgingly admit that some people aren't so bad, I still didn't like him.

On a smaller but still dissatisfying note, Serene got tiring quickly. The whole "elves are sexist but in favor of women" was a joke that started out decent but didn't last through the whole book, and it's not empowering for me as a woman to have a female character being as much of a raging misandrist as some real-world men are misogynist. It's not a subversion, it's just a reversal, and it's not interesting for long.

So there are my issues with the story. I also have issues with the writing itself. I appreciate the effort put into showing how characters are feeling--especially Luke, who gets most of his characterization through displaying how angry or not he is with whatever insulting thing Elliot's just said. The slow burn of this romance is telegraphed through four years of schooling and over four hundred pages--that's the other thing that made this read at all bearable for me.

But the rest of the plot is thinner than a steamrolled penny and has pacing issues out the wazoo. If I lost focus for even a second and accidentally skipped a paragraph, the characters who I thought were in the library might suddenly be in the middle of a battle. Fights started out of seemingly nothing. Conversations usually seemed to start somewhere in the middle with no context. Scene breaks might cover thirty seconds, or months. There was no real structure beyond "this part of the book is this year of school and Elliot is this age" and the knowledge that time does indeed proceed forward, not backward, not sideways, as there's no time travel. Events that most other books would emphasize were breezed past so we could have more time with Elliot being cranky--instead of those events being opportunities for him to grow as a character through his actions, they're wayposts, mere plot points the story has to have but doesn't want to linger on, so we can get back to the "good" part, the constant teenage angst.

I might have loved this when I was a teenager myself, but as an adult, I have no patience with it. Even knowing that this humor is supposed to be genre-mocking, at least partially tongue-in-cheek, most of it didn't land for me, because as hard as I tried, Elliot never grew more funny or likable.

[coeurvrai]

I wonder how many pages this review/rant/scream into the void has taken up on my blog so far? Far more than it deserves, I’m sure of that much.

“But back to the point, we have to get past the Vultures to get to the king?”

Rashid glanced at Malachiasz, but nodded. Malachiasz leaned back on the chaise, pulling at his lower lip.

“That complicates things,” Nadya said. “We can’t just wait for the opportune moment. I need to know what I’m doing if this is going to work.”

Malachiasz nodded. “You’re going to go to the dinner. Watch the king. Charm the prince. He’ll be your way to get to the king. Tell me exactly what the masks on the Vultures near the king look like.”

He was going to deal with the Vultures. Fine. Good, even, because Nadya didn’t know what to do when they were involved. They were a variable she feared and did not understand.

God, if only you knew an individual who had been a part of that order/cult for a very long time and knows the intimate details of how it works and what they do.

Oh wait...

But seriously, Nadya, if you were so curious and so concerned with your lack of knowledge about the inner workings of the Vultures, you could just fucking ask Malachiasz about it. I know he’s the Black Vulture, but you have no real reason to believe that he wouldn’t just tell you. Then again, asking for common sense from this girl is like asking a block of cheese for directions.

Also Nadya wouldn’t recognise an opportune moment if it walked up right to her face and held up a bright flashing neon sign saying “opportune moment”.

Rashid stood. “I’ll go find Parijahan; you don’t have much time before dinner.”

That left just Nadya and Malachiasz.

NO! Don’t leave these two fuckers alone in a bedroom, Rashid! I don’t want to deal with what I’m sure is gonna be more focus on this stupid relationship that I neither need nor want. ED just provides us with a surplus of this damn stuff.

“You should go as well,” she said softly.

She could feel his gaze burning against her face, but she refused to look at him. She saw him stand and move toward the door out of the corner of her eye, but he changed his mind. Instead, he dropped down into a crouch in front of Nadya’s chair so he was looking up at her.

“I acted without trusting your judgment, and for that I apologize,” he said.

It’s not an apology for murdering that girl, she noted. But it was a start. It was something from this boy who obviously had no morals and no regard for anything that didn’t serve his own interests. She just wished she could understand what those interests were.

Nadya, we do not have time to once again get into your utter stupidity because it will just make myself go into a blind rage over it and that’s just not healthy. I still have like a good 150 pages to go and I cannot afford to burn myself out so, I’m just going to ignore that for now. Also, “the girl” has a name. It’s Felicíja, Nadya. I know you know it because you’ve used it before.

Also, “no regard”? Nadya, you say that like you have regard for anything else but your own interests. You don’t. You still view Tranavians as lesser than you, as unworthy of existing as they are because they have blood magic, as “heretics” because they rejected your religion and do not want it.

You can’t tell me you feel empathy and understanding towards the Tranavians, genuinely, because you haven’t gone through the character development for it - no matter what this book is trying to tell me. Unlearning biases and xenophobia is tough, unlearning any kind of systemic discrimination is tough, but you haven’t made an effort to. You haven’t. And this isn’t how to do it, anyways.

Also the moral high horse that Nadya is sitting on is eye-roll worthy. You’ve also murdered people, Nadya; I can’t say this enough.

“Nadya,” he started and stopped. He let out a frustrated breath.

Inexplicably, she felt herself soften. She reached out and threaded her fingers into his soft, black hair, letting her hand settle against the side of his head.

Why—after being so furious with him—did she find herself desperately yearning to kiss him? The heat of anger that he sparked was still felt fresh in her veins and yet she couldn’t help but gaze at the bow of his lips.

She was feeling too many things in too little time. She wanted it all to stop. She wanted whatever this was she felt for him to stop.

I want it to stop too but I know it won’t, because otherwise ED would have nothing else to write about, and we can’t have that.

I don’t know why, either. It’s stupid. You’re so abhorred by him killing Felicíja when you claim that she didn’t need to die, and that he’s undermining your agency, and you know, he’s a former Vulture and a blood mage and your enemy but yet you still get all gooey over him for no real reason.

To the point that you checked out his unconscious body before you checked whether or not he was alive.

If he was startled by her actions, he didn’t show it. He let another moment pass between them—fraught with a tension still too new to her—before he spoke. “You have to trust me, Nadya,” he said, his voice low. “I know I am everything you have been taught to hate and more. I have done terrible things in my life. If I disgust you, I understand. But—”

“We have to work together,” Nadya whispered. “All four of us, or else this whole mess of a plan will go up in smoke and we’ll all be hanged for it.”

He leaned his head into her hand and she felt herself warm. To have another person react to her touch was a peculiar feeling, a connection she had never really had with anyone. The monastery didn’t encourage relationships; one’s devotion to the gods was more important.

This was a disaster. Anyone, anyone but him. Anyone but the enemy boy who had tormented her people, who was faithless, godless, monstrous. If she tore out her own heart would this stop? If that was the thing betraying her, then she would be rid of it. Anything to stop from being pulled to this terrible boy.

This plan is an absolute mess but also you’re the one who put “the plan” in jeopardy in the first place, so you should really start pulling your weight, Nadya.

Also “the enemy boy”, I’m fucking laughing. Nadya, you could just like, stop, you know. Not acting on your attraction to people is like a thing. You act like you literally cannot help yourself but get all blushy blushy over him and you HAVE to touch him. Like, that’s not how things work.

“And you and I need to come to an understanding,” he continued. “We can be enemies when all this is over.”

It was fairly clear now that enemies wasn’t quite what they were before, and an understanding probably wasn’t going to be what either of them wanted.

Maybe she had knocked her head during the duel, but she found herself sliding her other hand up his neck to cradle his cheek. He grew very still, as if he truly thought her a little bird and sudden movement might startle her away.

“What if I don’t want to be enemies when all this is over?” she asked softly, her voice betraying her by trembling. Her heart was pounding in her throat.

Yeah, no shit “enemies wasn’t quite what they were before”, because it was a half-hearted attempt at the trope. ED couldn’t bother building it up in a believable and organic way, so she just threw it aside completely and was like “what I really want to see them is suck face!”

Also bullshit, Nadya! You’d think your gods would have something to say about that, since they’re the only reason you have power in the first place. It almost infuriates me that I had to sit through all of her xenophobia and discriminatory tirades, just for it to not bloody matter one fucking bit to her character.

Anyways, I’ll spare you guys the descriptions of them kissing. Nadya is the one who initiates the kiss and she describes kissing him as “heresy”. Because that is a word you should just throw around. Totally, ED. Totally. Also Malachiasz calls her little bird again and I hate it.

She still finds blood magic repulsive, though. She asks Malachiasz if he felt it when she accidentally used the spells, and he nods. She says he knew this could happen, since she had to draw blood to pass herself off as a blood mage. He’s like “yeah... but I mean, I didn’t think anything bad would really happen!”

Malachiasz says he’s gotta go and they’ll continue this conversation later. Good, I can’t stand another moment of your bullshit. And we get this heavily advertised quote.

“Even so. Dazzle the monsters, Nadya. You’ve already charmed the worst of the lot; the rest should be easy.”

*rolls my eyes*

This is also weirdly reminds me of that one quote from The Cruel Prince, a book I have not read and have no intention to but have heard a lot about.

“So I am to sit here and feed you information,” Cardan says, leaning against a hickory tree. “And you’re to go charm royalty? That seems entirely backward.”

I fix him with a look. “I can be charming. I charmed you, didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes. “Do not expect others to share my depraved tastes.” 

But thankfully, Malachiasz is leaving for reals.

“I’m still mad at you,” she said, but the words felt flat.

“I know.” He grinned as he slipped his mask back over his face. He was gone before she could say anything more.

She pressed a hand to her lips, wrenching her eyes shut. There would be hell to pay for this.

Everything about this romance falls flat, so I’m not surprised. What’s the point in them being enemies-to-lovers if you’re not going to follow through with the enemies part of the trope? Oh wait, it’s for cheap angst, plus otherwise this wouldn’t be published Rey/Kylo Ren fanfiction.

Also, I doubt you’re gonna get that much of a chewing out for it, to be honest. I mean, the gods had plenty of opportunities to chew you out for your bullshit with Malachiasz and they didn’t, and that was back when they had easy access!

Anyways, that’s the end of that chapter!

[humanityinahandbag]

hotel transylvania 3: texting

 or: Ericka is thrilled to be added to the families official group chat. Unfortunately, Dracula hasn’t gotten this whole texting thing down

(Adventures in Family Texting between a small family of vampires and humans) 

Very short without much of an ending. This is nothing more than my tired excuse at writing practice and giving myself a good chuckle. Enjoy.

When Ericka’s phone dings sometime while she’s chatting to the Hydra about their lovely scales (”thank you so much, Captain, we do our very best”) she checks her phone, nearly bursts into unwanted tears, and excuses herself to lean on one of the lobby’s couches. 

Mavis: Hey, Ericka! Adding you to our family group chat! Let me know if you get this!

She’d never been a part of anything. The mundanity of a family group chat was so... boring in concept but left her warm and teary-eyed, and she swiped at her eyes. 

She was about to respond with some sort of long-winded, heartfelt thank you until three dots on the bottom appeared. 

Dracula: MAVIS WHY ARE YOU TEXTING ME

Mavis: We’re adding Ericka to the group chat, dad

Johnny: Sweeeeet 🙌🏼

Dracula: MAVY WAVY THAT’S A GREAT IDEA DID YOU TELL HER YET

Mavis: This is a GROUP CHAT dad. She’s on, now.

Dracula: ERICKA YOU’RE A PART OF OUR GROUP CHAT NOW

Mavis: Dad, she knows

Dracula: ERICKA. YOU JUST HAVE TO TYPE AND SEND IT AND EVERYONE SEES IT

Mavis: She knows how to use group chat, dad

Dracula: TYPE INTO THE BOX AND THEN PRESS SEND

Ericka: I know, honey. 

Dracula: THE SEND BUTTON IS THE BLUE ONE THAT SAYS SEND

Ericka: I know, honey, thank you.

Dracula: SHE FIGURED IT OUT MAVIS

Johnny: dude, you can talk to the people there, you know?

Ericka: I’m here, hon. You can talk to me. 

Dracula: MAVIS WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING ME ERICKA FIGURED IT OUT

Mavis: We all know, dad. 

She must have looked all colors of. crazy from the way she was chuckling down at her phone. She looked up. A few monsters gave her a look or two but went back to their newspapers. Ericka shrugged off the feeling of the awkward spotlight and looked back down at her screen. 

Her boyfriend (was that what he was? the term was almost strange and young, like she was still in middle school, mooning over some blonde haired scrawny boy, but it still managed to send little sparks down her spine) was savvy in the ways of most things having to do with hotel management. 

Tech intelligent, he was not. 

She typed back “Thanks for adding me” and waited. 

Three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen. 

Dracula: ERICKA MAKE SURE YOU DON’T SEND ANYTHING YOU DON’T WANT THEM TO SEE ON HERE THIS IS PUBLIC. 

Ericka: I know, honey. 

Mavis: she knows, dad 😑And you don’t need to keep using caps lock. 

Dracula: WHAT’S CAPS LOCK

A minute passed. She watched the dots appear, disappear, and then appear again. 

Dracula: HEY HONEY ARE YOU FREE TONIGHT I WAS THINKING YOU COULD TRY ON THAT NEW LINGERIE WE PICKED OUT

Mavis: Group chat, dad! Group! Chat!

Johnny: lol

Dracula: ERICKA THIS WAS A GROUP CHAT I ACCIDENTALLY TYPED INTO DON’T DO THE SAME THING I DID

Dracula: I THINK I FINALLY FIGURED IT OUT DO YOU WANT TO TRY ON THE LINGERIE TONIGHT

Ericka: Still group chat, honey.

Mavis: DAD.

Ericka pockets her phone, doing her best to swallow back the outrageous cocktail of embarrassment and hysteria. She made a note to try and teach the King of Darkness how to navigate his phone later. 

Maybe after that night. When she tried on the new lingerie. 

Mavis had grown accustomed, day by day (and sometimes hour by hour) with the presence of her fathers new significant other. And had made an effort to at least try and include the woman. 

And when she had, when the gates were opened, and when the invitations were extended, she found that Ericka... was actually pretty cool. 

She was actually really cool. 

The woman had been to nearly every continent, save Australia, and had navigated the seas for twenty-seven long years. “I started when I was fifteen,” she told the young Vampiress, who was going through the hotel menus for the week while Ericka sat beside her, stapling invoices to accounts. “My grandfather had me training before then, but we didn’t have the boat until I turned fourteen. So-”

“And you learned on your own?”

Ericka shrugged, slapping down the lid of the stapler with a thud. “I did a lot of things alone. The only thing he really helped me with was...” she squirmed, choosing her words carefully, “monster stuff. You know...”

“Oh,” said Mavis. The topic was rarely breached, though Ericka suspected it wouldn’t be long until the vampiress started asking questions. 

“But other than that...”

Mavis shook her head, shaking the memory of krakens and wooden stakes off her mind. “So what? You only learned on a cruise ship?”

“Oh, no. I learned on all sorts. Sailing, small schooners, rowboats, catamaran, fishing. I still own the cruise ship. Haven’t had the heart to sell it, yet, since cruise season is coming. Your dad and I are figuring out if I should go for a few months or not. I still have a small motorboat docked out somewhere near New York. I’m thinking of having it shipped here.” She grinned. “If I do, I’ll have to take you and Johnny out on some of the lakes. Sunrise on the water is to die for.”

Mavis, midway down the menu page, popped her head up. “For reals?”

“Sure!” Ericka flicked her hand. “Cruises are one thing. But small boat rides out? When it’s quiet and the sun is just coming up? Nothing more romantic.”

“Oh my god, that sounds perf-”

Their phones both buzzed. 

They looked down. 

Dracula: ERICKA I THINK I LOCKED MYSELF INSIDE MY COFFIN

Mavis slumped. “Didn’t you guys get a bed?”

“Yeah. But he likes the coffin when he’s freaking out, and you know the quarterly review is due tomorrow and...” she tapered off, already texting. 

Ericka: Honey, this is a group chat. What’s wrong?

Dracula: IM STUCK

Ericka: Yeah. Honey. I got that. But how

Dracula: I DON’T KNOW IT JUST HAPPENED

Dracula: SOS

Ericka sighed. “Put a pin in this,” she apologized. Mavis flashed a thumbs up. “I’m going to go save your father from himself.”

“Good luck,” Mavis called after her, going back to the menus. 

A few minutes later her phone buzzed again. There was a private text, from Ericka. 

Ericka: Your father accidentally slammed his coffin too hard. It got stuck. I’m trying to get him out. Can you call maintenence? 

Mavis: Sure.

Mavis put her phone down. And then she picked it back up, grinning.

Mavis: Can you send a video, first? 

Ericka: ...

Ericka: [Ericka has sent a video]

Mavis accepted the link. 

Dracula: MAVIS I KNOW YOU HAVE A VIDEO OF ME SCREAMING FOR HELP IN MY COFFIN 

Mavis: ... no?

Dracula: I KNOW YOU DO

Dracula: BUT I WANT YOU TO TEACH ME

Mavis: Teach you what

Dracula: HOW DO YOU VIDEO IN TEXT

Mavis: You don’t video in text, dad. You open the camera. 

Dracula: ...

Dracula: THIS PHONE HAS A CAMERA?

It took quite a bit to get Vampire’s drunk. Their hearts didn’t technically beat, and their blood didn’t really run, and so most of the chemicals that needed to get to their brains could only get there after said Vampire were absolutely and totally pickled. 

Wayne, Murray, Frank, and Griffin succeeded. 

The wedding of the Chupacabra had ended after 5 am, and though most of the guests had long gone back to their rooms, the boys had dragged Dracula along, claiming that a long overdue boys night. 

“Go,” Ericka had told him, waving him away with a yawn. “I’m gonna get to bed anyway. My feet are killing me.” He’d swept her into every dance there; the notion of watching slow dances from the side of the dance floor had been left behind, and he hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d finished swaying to the last Al Green song. 

He kissed her cheek. And then, looking behind him to make sure his Pack wasn’t watching, he leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips. 

The pack apparently was watching and chose then to let out a chorus of hoots. 

“I’ll meet you upstairs?”

“Remember to shut off the lights.”

And they’d taken him away, with little calls of “thank you, Captain!” and “we’ll have him back in one piece!” 

That had been three hours ago. Before they’d begun plying one another with beers. And then shots. And finally, when the sun was beginning to burn dew off the leaves, mixers. 

The zombie bartender handed Dracula another cosmo, while Griffin sucked the vodka out of the chunks of pineapple on his skewer. 

“God...” Murray slurred, sucking back a Sex on the Beach. “Le’me tell you somethin’. Y’all are soooooo lucky. With wiiiiives and relaaaaaationships-”

Wayne slumped down, grinning from ear to ear. He motioned for the bartender to refill his vodka tonic. “SOOOooo lucky,” he said. “SO SO lucky. I got kids. I got... got Wanda. God, she-she’s per -hic- perfect.”

“Mmmmm...” agreed Griffin, trying to stab his pineapple with the fancy umbrella. “Totally. Tot-a-lly. TOTES.”

Frank, half asleep on the countertop motioned weakly with his hand. 

Dracula poked at his cosmo sadly. He wasn’t drunk, was he? He could see straight (even if most of what he saw was doubles) and he still seemed to be able to use magic? He flickered his fingers experimentally. A shot of blue knocked over a chair somewhere behind him. 

Okay. So maybe not.

God? When was the last time he’d had this much to drink? He’d been stressed lately, with wedding planning and the hotels new wave of maintenance ever since the heavy Transylvanian summer showers had begun. His head gave a lovely thump thump and he rubbed his temple. It was stress that was causing the headache, he told himself. And not the six vodka tonics and seven cosmos he’d knocked back in the last two hours. 

Yeah. That made sense. Stress. Just stress. 

“‘M super luckyyy tooo” drawled Frank, head still on the counter. “Got... got a wife... She’s sooooo pretty.” He held his ears. “But loud.”

Griffin burped. 

Dracula poked his drink again, suddenly feeling lonely in all the talk of wives and partners. “Ohhhhh” he groaned, plucking at the cherry at the end of his tiny umbrella. “I wishhhhh I was luckkkkky too. Haven’ -urp- haven’ had someone since... since Martha an-”

“Drac!” Griffin tried to put his hand on the counts shoulder but ended up slapping it instead. “Drac you DO. Remeeeember? You have Eri-Ericka.”

Dracula sat taller. “Oh yeah!” he exclaimed. He swayed in his seat. “Ericka!” 

Frank popped up. “Ericka’s great!” he shouted before his head fell back down with a THUMP that made all the drinks jump in their glasses. 

Dracula nodded, ignoring the feeling of sea sickness in his gut. Was the hotel floating? He didn’t remember installing a lake? “She’s- she’s so so so so sooooooo great! She’s so pretty and nice and pretty and pretty-”

“So nice!” agreed Wayne. 

Murray nodded. “And she could kill you!”

“Which’s suuuuuuper hot,” said Griffin. 

“Totally hot,” mumbled Frank into the counter. 

“I shou-should text her!”

“You totally should.” Wayne pumped his fist. “Do it! Do it!”

“I’m gonna!” That was a good idea! Texting meant you weren’t drunk, right? Or stressed? Or absolutely out of your mind? 

Dracula took out his phone. “What should I say?”

“Use those faces!” Griffin said, glasses slipping off. “Girls looove those faces.”

“And compliment her,” suggested Murray. “Say she’s beautiful.”

“And could kill you,” mumbled Frank. 

“YES.” Dracula liked this idea. Dracula liked this idea a lot. 

Dracula: HEY HONEY SMILEY FACE

Dracula: THE BOYS AND I ARE STILL HERE SMILEY FACE

Dracula: THEY REMINDED ME THAT YOU EXIST AND I WANTED TO SAY HOW MUCH I LOVE YOUR FACE SMILEY FACE

Dracula: IT’S A GREAT FACE EVEN IF IT TRIED TO KILL ME THAT ONE TIME HEART

Ericka: ...

Ericka: ...

Ericka: honey... why are you texting me.

Mavis: what’s happening?

Dracula: BECAS I LOVE YOU

Dracula: OH HELLO MAVY WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

Ericka: This is a group chat, sweetheart.

Mavis: Dad I was sleeping

Ericka: We all were. it’s 7 in the morning. 

Dracula: YES BUT I LOVE YOU SMILEY FACE

Ericka: Why do you keep saying smiley face and heart?

Dracula: BECAUSE GIRLS LOVE WHEN MEN USE EMOTION CONS HEART

Mavis: You don’t spell them you use the picture Just put a heart or a smiley face. 

Dracula: THERE ARE PICTURES? SMILEY FACE

Mavis: oh my god.

Ericka: ...

Ericka: text me again and i’ll actually kill you

Dracula: OKAY HONEY HEARTHEARTHEART

Dracula: ... 

Dracula: ERICKA I STILL LOVE YOUR FACe

Dracula: AND YOUR BUTT

Dracula: YOU LOOK GREAT NAKED

Mavis: Ericka, please kill him 

Mavis: I’ll give you the stakes myself

Ericka: 👍🏼I’m pretty sure I still have extras in my duffel but thank you, sweetheart

Mavis: No prob goodnight

Dracula: THATS SUPER HOT

Ericka: I’m locking you outside in the sun if you don’t stop 

Dracula held his phone close to his chest. “I just love her so much,” he choked. 

“Super hot,” said Griffin. 

Frank groaned into the counter. 

Dracula woke up with an earth-shattering headache. “Oh...” he mumbled. “Oh shit.” From next to him, Ericka looked up from her book. It was some adventure story with an explosion on the cover. 

“Yeah,” she said. “That sounds about right.”

“What did I do last night?” he rolled over, facing her, wincing in the light of her bedside lamp. His voice sounded too loud against the stone walls. “Did I die?” 

“No. But I almost killed you.”

“Oh,” he said. 

“And you drank a lot,” she said, going back to her book. “I’m pretty sure it was a bunch of cosmos. That’s what you told me when you came back.”

“I walked back?” He squinted, trying to remember. Or maybe trying to block out the light. When did the room get so bright?

“Mmmhm. Jumped into bed and woke me up to tell me that I was hot.” She turned the page. “And then you stole all the covers. You’re lucky I don’t keep stakes next to me.” 

He ignored the last part and rubbed his face. “I think I’m dead. I think I died, and now I’m dead.”

“Technically, you’re undead.”

“You know what I mean.” He pushed his hands against his eyes. “It’s been a long few weeks. Stress is doing me in.”

“This isn't stressed,” Ericka said into her book. “You’re hungover..”

He groaned, hiding his eyes in his pillow. “Vampires,” he remarked painfully, “don’t get drunk.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true. Because you were drunk.”

“Stressed,” he argued. 

“Stressed people don’t drunk text their entire families at 8 in the morning.”

He peeked out with one eye. “What?”

“Yup.” Ericka said, popping the P. “You spelled out emoticons. and then told everyone I looked good naked.”

Dracula stared at her like she’d told him the earth was moments away from destruction.  “I didn’t.”

“You did,” she said, turning the page again. “But please. Blame it on stress.”

He hid his face in the pillow and groaned. 

I’m sure that there are many more adventures in Vampire/Human Family Texting. 

But right now, these are the ones I could think of. 

Please, enjoy. 

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Chains

A Loki Laufeyson x Reader Fic Request

Request Fic based off of this post for @kimistry27 (I hate the fact your damn tag won’t tag!!)  Hope it’s everything you were looking for!!

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader  |  Word Count: 2742 Warnings: Implied sexual conquest, mostly fluff

“Loki?”

“Yes, pet?” the God of Mischief, book open in his lap asked distractedly, not bothering to look up from whatever history of whatever world he'd currently engrossed himself in.

“Can I,” you hesitated, swallowing to wet your throat. The hesitation had those blue-green eyes lifting to peer at you intently, your discomfort finally gaining his attention. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, darling.” Holding out his hand, he beckoned you closer with a crook of his fingers.

The whisper of the fabric of your Asgardian gown was all the sound you made as you joined him on the divan where he drew you to sit at his side. He’d brought you to Asgard as a gift for your birthday, the one place you'd longed to see, but you'd spent much of your time with Sif or the Warriors Three or Thor playing guides and guards as Loki’s presence in Asgard brought about much unrest. Some of the people felt his past actions out shadowed his current behaviour, his about-face as it were, that saw him siding with Thor and the Avengers many times in the past two years.

He was trying, but it was a tough crowd.

Most of that effort came from when he'd walked into the Avengers compound, bound in chains, and come face to face with you. Had Thor not been there to explain, you likely would have run screaming when Loki had turned a stunning shade of blue, rending the chains which bound him into nothing more than brittle pieces of metal that had fallen to the ground in flaking fragments when he'd glided swiftly toward you and dropped to a knee.

It appeared you were what the Asgardians called a bonded pair. The gods had seen fit to bind Loki to a soft-hearted but harder headed mortal, one who had promptly punched the God of Mischief in the face when his cobalt blue hands had reached for you.

It had taken time - and not a little effort on Loki’s part - to see you coming around to the dark male's charms. He’d done everything within his considerable power to show you he would change, become the good man you wished he would be, and for the most part he’d succeeded. If at times he pulled the odd, well-placed prank, well, it wasn't a big deal to turn a blind eye. After all, who didn't occasionally think of shaving Stark bald, or painting Barton’s bow a vibrant orange? He messed with people, but he was the God of Mischief. You couldn't expect him to be totally reformed.

But you'd heard a few things being in Asgard, jokes and comments which had gotten you thinking. Thinking much too hard and much too wantonly about things which you probably shouldn't.

Biting your lip, you looked down at your linked fingers before glancing up at him through your lashes. “Is it… do you… am I… oh hell,” you muttered, having a horrible time asking your question.

Concern etched across his face when he cupped your cheek and turned your face to his. “What is it? You are happy, are you not? No one has been rude to you?”

“No, no, no!” you were quick to reassure him when his eyes darkened and his temperature ran cold. Protective Loki could swiftly become violent Loki if he felt someone had been unkind.

“Then what is it, my love?” Anger turned to puzzlement.

“Are you… am I… enough?” you asked quietly, a flush burning your face. 

“Enough?” he frowned. “Explain?”

Flushing an even darker shade of red, you bit your lip. “I heard a… a thing that made me think… perhaps I'm not giving you what you need… in bed.” The final two words were barely a whisper.

“Who would say such a thing? And of what did they speak?” he demanded.

Tears welled, uncertain if he was upset with you. “They… they said you like chains. That's why you end up bound hand and foot so often.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened in understanding.

“Am I… am I not enough? Am I too… too soft? Do you need something from me I'm not giving?” you asked, desperate tears sliding down your face.

His lips pressed briefly against yours. “Beloved,” he crooned when you gasped a quiet sob. “They were making fun, my heart. Speaking of how I wound up chained so often in my past. I seemed to constantly get myself ensnared in another set of restraints.”

“Then… you don't want,” you hiccupped, “me to… do anything with… these?” A twist of wrist brought the links of golden chains to your fingers where the heavy weight pooled in your lap. 

A perk of the pair bonding was sharing powers. As you had none, silly little mortal you were, you just got to use Loki’s. He’d relished the days and nights he'd spent teaching you everything he could think of after you’d accidentally duplicated yourself. 

A second twist of wrist had the chains wrapped around him, binding his arms to his sides and sending him reeling into the back of the wide divan. 

“You know these restrict my powers, darling. If you would please unbind me, I'd appreciate not having to repeat the performance of our first meeting.” 

But you couldn't, not yet. Not when you'd thought of this for hours today. “Let’s play a game, Loki,” you coaxed softly, running your hands over his chest, down into his lap, and vanishing his book. 

“You'd best have marked my page, woman,” he threatened, but the darkening of his eyes and rapid beat of his heart gave away his enthusiasm for your new game. “I think, perhaps, it's you, pet, who has the fetish for chains.” 

“Maybe…” you hedged, a smile flirting with your lips. 

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, a quiet, deep sound rumbling from his chest when your fingers delved between layers of tunic.

Your smirk grew slowly. “Two hours. I want two hours where your powers are relinquished in full to me. You can’t beg to be freed, can’t plead for release, and can’t use your abilities as a frost giant to escape your bonds. You have to let me play, Loki, as I wish for two hours.”

“And if I lose?”

“I get to keep the chains and use them once per month for the rest of the Midgardian year.” As it was only March on Earth, that was a fairly long time.

He frowned, clearly contemplating his chances. “And if I win?” he asked cautiously.

“You can use the chains on me for the same amount of time. Two hours, Loki,” you clarified when his eyes brightened.

“Done!” he fairly jumped at the chance.

A surge of overwhelming strength filled you as all his magic suddenly became wholly yours. “Oh… oh wow…”

“The timer is running, beloved,” he crooned, smile wicked and face smug.

Climbing in his lap, tugging the skirt of your dress up as you did, you settled across his thighs, leaning down until the tip of your nose touched his. Brushing it gently, you echoed his smile. “I know, my glorious dark god, but there’s something you should know before we get started.”

“What is that, love?”

Tracing your lips along his cheek, you hovered near his ear, “I haven’t worn panties at all today.”

His sharp inhale had you rocking back and laughing to the ceiling.

***

Exactly one hundred and ten minutes later, you lifted yourself from said dark god’s lap with a twisted smile. Your dress had long ago been discarded, his hair was dishevelled from your hands in it, most of his clothing was askew or thoroughly out of place.

He was panting, cheeks flushed, eyes dark and wild. He looked far more dangerous, far more feral than ever before, but that was likely due to the multiple times you took him to the edge only to deny him what he wanted. The tips of his fingers had turned blue not long ago, and the room had cooled enough to pebble your nipples and give you gooseflesh.

Getting to your feet with a decided wobble, you picked up your dress.

“What are you doing, darling?” he all but snarled.

“Finishing the game, Loki,” you smiled, putting the garment back on.

His brow arched. “You are not leaving this room.”

“I have seven minutes to do with you what I wish, and what I wish is to run… very, very fast,” you grinned cheekily, knowing damn well you were in so much trouble!

“Running won’t save you, (Y/N),” he crooned. “You’re in my soul. I can find you wherever you go. Is it not better to simply stay and take your turn at this game with the class I know you possess instead of running like a scared child?”

Sliding your feet into your slippers, you curtsied with a flourish. “I choose option number two, my lord.” Turning on your heel, you ran for all you were worth.

“Darling? Darling?! (Y/N)!?” Bellowed from the room but you kept running.

Five minutes was not much time to get where you needed to go and Loki, when he came for you, would be on such a warpath. You only hoped he remembered to straighten out his clothing before chasing you down.

At the doors to the large banquet hall, you skidded to a walk, well aware of the guards who watched you with wry amusement. Striding inside with grace, you made your way toward Thor. The look on your face must have caused concern for he was soon hurrying toward you.

“So… yeah. No one panic, okey dokey?” you said with a forced laugh.

“Panic over what? What did you do? How mad is he?” Thor’s question ended, and a mighty wave of power rolled through the palace.

“Ha ha!” you wheezed when a good portion of Loki’s power washed out of you. “Not mad so much as… ha, denied.”

“Oh!” Sif, who’d come over to chat, barked before hiding her mouth behind her hand. “Well, then.”

“Save me?” you begged softly.

“We will do our best,” Thor promised, his smirk wicked. “Make ready!” he called out.

When the doors at the end of the hall slammed open, the God of Mischief in all his finery walked through. He’d done more than straighten out his clothes. He’d dressed with the intention of having people remember who and what he was. He was a god, a dark one, and at the moment he looked it.

“Brother!” Thor bellowed, holding out his arms.

The call had Loki freezing, noticing where he was and the startling amount of people. “Brother. I’ve come for my wife.”

“As I asked her to make sure you were here at this time, I’m afraid you will both have to stay a bit longer. Come, sit, enjoy!”

“Enjoy?” Loki mumbled, moving toward the long table. “It is not a feast day. What are we celebrating?”

“The return of the prodigal son,” you whispered once he was close enough.

“What?” he gasped.

Thor dropped a meaty fist on his shoulder. “The people of Asgard are smitten with your lady wife. She has proved her goodness and gentle heart to them. Because of this, the people know you would never do anything that would sacrifice the happiness you have with your woman. They welcome you home, brother, your place in my court is reinstated. They welcome you to return to Asgard!” he called out, and the hall erupted with cheers.

The shocked look on Loki’s face brought tears to your eyes, and you reached out to him. “You are a prince of Asgard once more, my heart.”

His eyes darted to yours, emotion-laden as he gently touched your cheek before being swept away by a tide of people wishing to welcome him back to the court, the revelry just getting started as food and drink flowed.

It took an hour for things to settle, or to calm to what you’d come to realize was the least boisterous part of an Asgardian party. The drink had not yet gone to the men’s heads when Loki’s presence at your back appeared, and you were whisked away to the far side of a large stone pillar, conveniently hidden from view. A soft expulsion of breath left your lips when he pinned you forcefully to the stones with his muscular body.

“You were my distraction as they made ready for this feast, weren’t you, my love?” he asked, lips a hair’s breadth from yours.

“Yes,” you whispered, watching as eyes of blue slowly darkened into a deep green, glimmering with shimmers of his power.

“And the chains? Was it all an act?”

“No…” you sighed when his lips skimmed yours, feeling the heat of desire pool again in your belly. “The comment was, as you said, a teasing one, but it put the thought in my head. What would my Loki look like, bound hand and foot, completely at my mercy?”

“Did you enjoy the view, darling?” His voice deepened, rumbled like the growl of a hungry wolf as his teeth tugged your earlobe.

“Very much!” you gasped, turning your head in an act of submission.

“Good,” he growled in your ear. Pulling slowly away, he smiled a dark, devious, devil smile as he released your hands and reached in his sleeve. Something gold and shiny appeared in his fingers, a single link from the chain you’d bound him with now hung like a pendant from a thin necklace. With a flick of fingers, it reappeared around your throat, the link resting above your heart like a dark promise. He placed a fingertip lightly on the link, but his eyes never wavered from yours.

Leaning closer, he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. “I re-forged the chains after I broke them, my love. They await your return to our bedchamber.” His hips pinned you back against the pillar, causing a wanton moan to erupt when he rocked against you.

Apparently, you’d left him in quite a state, one hidden only by the extravagance of his clothing. No wonder he’d changed. “Loki,” you sighed.

“Oh the things I have planned for you, (Y/N), my wicked, naughty girl. Eat and drink your fill, my heart, for you will not see the outside of our chamber for the next few days.” His eyes glowed with mischief.

“Loki, two hours, you promised,” you reminded him, only to have him smile his patented Loki grin.

“Yes, two hours to use the chains, pet. You said nothing of other restraints,” he whispered in your ear, leaving you stunned, shaken, and highly turned on as he laughed ever so evilly and walked away.

Sif found you moments later, still leaning against the pillar. “I think you need this more than I.” She held out the cup of mead, which you took and gulped back.

Once your legs had some much-needed bone back in them, you looked to the tall warrior. “I think I may have started something.”

“I think you may have,” she snickered, leaning around the pillar and laughing. “Loki has not looked so pleased with himself in some time.”

Straightening up, you handed back her cup and lightly squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Sif.” You looked out over the crowd to find Loki laughing with his brother. “But FYI? I don’t think you’re getting those chains I borrowed back.” Giving her a cheeky grin, her face making you giggle, you went off to fill your belly knowing full well your husband’s promise was not one to be taken lightly.

He smiled at you as you went by, grabbing your arm to pull you close so he could press his lips to your ear. “I enjoyed this new game, love. Perhaps I like chains after all.”

Drawing your fingers over his abdomen, feeling the shiver you caused with the action, you gave him a Cheshire cat grin. “Bound hand and foot, Loki? Why I never would have guessed.” Laughing, you walked away, content and happy and not at all concerned with your own upcoming appointment with the mass of golden restraints.

 - The End -

[random2908]

So, tomorrow--I guess today, now--is the 10th anniversary of my Grandma’s death. You know, I haven’t talked about her much on tumblr. I’ve mentioned her some, but for how important she was in my life, I mostly haven’t--

Looking through my tags, like half my posts are complaints that she doesn’t have a wikipedia page even though there are a few pages that have empty links with her name. I don’t know that I want to her to have one, though; it would make her not mine anymore, and I don’t want to see her belong to the world, paraded out for NPOV criticism. I don’t think she would have minded, though--she was a private person but she would have approved of NPOV criticism.

What do I say about her? It’s my blog, so I guess I say what she meant to me.

About a year ago, when my middle sister temporarily moved to NYC, my best friend invited her out to dinner; they were loosely friends, themselves, from both having lived in Singapore previously. My middle sister brought my little sister along, although she’d only met my best friend twice--way back when she was a kid--and didn’t know her. My best friend told me that most of the conversation at dinner took place between my two sisters. It was the two of them lamenting Grandma’s death nine years previous, and that they didn’t know her better. My little sister--who was 20 when Grandma died and nearly 30 when this conversation took place--lamented that Grandma had never seen her grow up, and wished she could have had an adult relationship with Grandma rather than just being a little kid in her eyes. No, she amended, she wished she could have grown up to be someone who Grandma would have respected and been proud of, and then had a real relationship with her. Impossible, my middle sister allegedly pointed out.

I once found a poem about her online, on some guy’s blog; he’d apparently taken classes from her in grad school. The poem was about how he’d seen a tiny old lady walking down the street who reminded him of her, and felt a moment of fear.

Grandma was both a good person and not a good person; both kind and unkind. My dad liked to say of her that stupid people thought she was nice. I countered that she was nice to me. But I was the exception, because I was her, but a child again. I was well aware that she was mean to everyone else. But she was absolutely polite, and some people can’t tell the difference between polite and nice, can’t hear the barbs when there’s no tone of voice to give a clue. She was verbally cruel to people who loved her and needed her, but she fully financially supported any of her offspring who were unemployed (she supported my cousin and his wife and kids for years) and she gave immense amounts of money to charity. Literally a fortune--millions of dollars, nearly everything she had. In one draft of her will, more money was going to Planned Parenthood alone than to all of her offspring combined. Everyone tells me I shouldn’t read into that, she just really cared about women’s health (having personally had a lot of medical issues relating to that). But it was Grandma. You’d be a fool not to read into everything she did.

(I hate when people do that to me. I hate when people read between the lines of everything I say and do, assume that because I’m me every word is carefully chosen, everything I say has layers of intent. It isn’t true. Not of me--not of me as an adult, anyway, although I can forgive the people who knew me in the worst parts of my teens for assuming it. But now, most of what I say is off-the-cuff, flippant, mostly meaningless, and no harm intended; if something I say seems hurtful, it’s nearly always careless and accidental tactlessness rather than artifice. It may have been true of her, though; everyone says it was. But if it’ isn’t true of me--how can I know what was and wasn’t true of her when she was 71 years older than me?)

I had a lot of personality in common with her as a kid. I was the best in my school in every academic subject (at least until I went to a magnet school for high school). I was ambitious to the point where my parents refused to send me to either of the competitive magnet high schools in our area. Whether they had in mind that I might be a danger to myself because I wouldn’t care about angering dangerous people for the sake of setting the curve in class, or whether they thought that I might be a danger to classmates who might have challenged me in an environment where violence and cheating lurked in the school culture just beneath the surface, I’m not sure; in any case, that’s what informed their decision to send me to the least competitive magnet high school. When I was 14, I once overheard my mom complain to a friend that she’d moved all the way out to California, far from her parents, but now they’d moved out here, and between Grandma and me she had generational stereo and basically got it all twice.

And why not? She was everything I aspired to be. She was a successful scientist who’d shattered glass ceilings--she’d finished a PhD at Harvard at age 22, decades before they officially started accepting women, and she was one of the founders of her subfield. She was respected by all. Everything that she said was intelligent and clever and multilayered. Why shouldn’t I want to be her? Who wouldn’t want to be her?

I have an aunt--my uncle’s girlfriend--who was scared of me when I was a kid. She’d heard the family rumors that I was Grandma all over again. And any reasonable person was scared of Grandma; her being in 8-year-old form was no less terrifying. My aunt was in her 50s when I was 8. I’ve changed her mind about me, though; she likes me now, as an adult.

My parents still think I’m Grandma. My siblings do, too, but then I point out that nearly any trait they can name that they think I got from her--other than ambition--I more likely got from our dad. (There’s a joke in there about people marrying their parents--my mom married her mother, I guess.) My dad thinks I have her cruelty. My mom just thinks I have her speech patterns, but my mom wouldn’t call anyone she cared about “cruel”--she’s too nice to say something like that. (No one knows how Grandma could possibly have given birth to and raised someone with my mom’s personality.)

The summer before she died, I called her up for her birthday. (It was the second to last time I ever talked to her.) With all her meds she was more than a little confused and had lost most of that filter that made stupid people think she was nice. She immediately launched into talking about my siblings and cousins. When she got to my little sister, and said of her that she’d grown up to be so pretty... I think she realized she’d gone too far, because she cut off and said, “But I’ve always been fond of you.” There it was, at the very end. I was the only one of her grandchildren that she really liked. At 25 years old, I was plenty old enough to know that didn’t reflect well on me.

She died three days before I turned 26, and nine months before I defended my thesis. I was so disappointed she didn’t live to see me get my PhD. I put her in the acknowledgements of my dissertation, of course. When I’d been getting ready to publish my first paper, she put days into reading it. She was a psychologist and I’m a physicist, but she put in the effort. Every day, for three days, she’d call me on the phone and tell me about the paragraphs she’d read so far, and we’d discuss what they meant, and she’d tell me what edits she thought I should make. For three days, reading my first paper was her life’s purpose. And you know, she read the whole thing, and understood it more or less, even though it was in a field that not only was several degrees removed from hers, but that had barely even existed when she was in grad school.

I was disappointed that she didn’t live to see me get my PhD, but I’d burned out and my career stalled out after that. I was always so relieved that she died just in time to never see me betray her like that.

In the end, I decided not to be her. Not to be the scientific success she was, perhaps, although I still have decades ahead of me there. But mainly not to be her. Not to sound like her. Not to say the mean things she’d say, not to evoke the fear she evoked. It’s hard work, and sometimes I feel like I’m rejecting my deep-down self in the process. But I’ve succeeded; maybe I’m not quite who I try to be but I’m not her anymore.

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

Okay so, the project I keep alluding to but haven’t actually explained: a few years ago I came across a post that suggested starting the new year with a commitment to write a quick note every time something good happened and stick it in a jar set aside for that purpose, and then at the end of the year you’d pull all the notes out and remember just how many good things you’d experienced that year even if a lot of it was bad. I did this in…2015, I think? I only did it halfway because I stupidly picked a decorative bottle whose wide mouth wasn’t actually wide enough to get any of the notes out at the end of the year (I mean, maybe I could’ve gotten some of them, but it would’ve been hard), so they’re still all just sitting in there, stuffed into this decorative bottle. Thing is, though, it was still a really useful exercise for a couple different reasons. The act of writing down good things, no matter how small and seemingly insignificant, and seeing the notes fill up the bottle made them feel more real, more valuable—and it was a positive, effective use of my brain’s tendency toward confirmation bias. I was writing down good things, which meant I had to consciously notice them in the first place, which meant I was more often in a frame of mind to look for them; and when something positive did happen, I appreciated it more because I was sitting with it for a second and recognizing its value. In general, it was a simple way to keep my mental state a little more balanced and remind myself that things aren’t completely hopeless and awful, even when my brain insists otherwise.

I started doing this at the beginning of 2016 but just kind of stopped, for various logistical reasons (and because I didn’t feel like I needed it as much anymore), and I kept thinking the best way to do this would be with a connected app and website so you could access it anywhere. That loses some of the physical aspect, but the rest is still there, and at least for me, I find just about any service I regularly use to be way more convenient if I can use it on both my desktop and my phone. But as far as I know, nothing like that exists for this specific purpose.

Then the election happened and a lot of things went to shit with every indication they’d only get worse for a good long time, and suddenly hopelessness was a huge problem again—not just for me but for basically everyone I know or follow. In the months since, I’ve seen a lot of people talking about the importance of self-care in hard times, of art and creation, of not letting the bastards steal your joy, of remembering that the world isn’t completely shit, of highlighting the positive so that fighting the negative doesn’t completely burn you out—in short, of remembering why you fight, why any of this matters. Remembering that there’s good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for. But it’s hard, when things are bad, when the shit just keeps coming and coming and coming, and it has to be a conscious effort.

I’ve seen a few people doing this on an individual basis—I know someone who started using the hashtag #onegoodthing every day, along with a few other people, and I sometimes see others making lists of, like, things that aren’t completely awful, and of course there are the handful of encouraging “hey, look at these genuinely good things that happened in 2016” posts. But as far as I know, there isn’t an existing way to do this on a broader level, to collect this stuff and help people remember that good things do happen. And the more I thought about that, and about the analogy that maybe my best role is to help buff people, the more I wanted to make this an actual thing and—I don’t want to say some bullshit like “harness the power of positive thinking” but at the same time that kind of is what I mean? I want to help people remember there are reasons to keep going and keep fighting when the world and their brains are conspiring to convince them otherwise. I want to help people stay alive.

Ideally, like I said, it would be a site and an app, maybe with a virtual jar you could fill with virtual notes, and you could see other users’ public notes as they come in and look back over what you’ve written during a particular time period. I don’t have the time, knowledge, or money to build and run something like that, but I think I could do a decent substitute with Twitter and Tumblr (Tumblr for longer stuff but also for a decent “about” page explaining the point of the project and like…why it’s not just empty meaningless positivity). I’d start out retweeting/reblogging relevant stuff and hopefully it would spread enough that people would start submitting things—kind of like Everyday Sexism in functionality, where people can submit their own stories and read what others have posted, but for a different purpose.

I can think of a few potential problems. I would put thorough content tags on each Tumblr post, for sure, because if the whole point is to help people, I don’t want to accidentally hurt someone with an unusual trigger, if I can avoid it. I’d probably also want to say upfront that, you know, this is happening in the context of AMERICA ELECTED A FUCKING FASCIST and therefore it isn’t a politically neutral project, so if—for instance—your idea of a “good thing” is something like “Obamacare finally got repealed” or “new prez is gonna #MAGA,” you’re definitely not getting retweeted/reblogged and you’re probably getting blocked. But if this grows the way I hope it does, it’s also probably not realistic to think I can vet everybody if they seem to be coming in good faith, so I guess I’d need a disclaimer about that too. Also, like I said, I don’t think anything quite like this already exists, but if it does, I guess that would be good to know.

That’s one of the reasons I wanted to post about this and try to get feedback—there are probably other potential issues I haven’t thought of and I’d prefer to anticipate as much as I can, and also, I definitely need help coming up with a name. Ideally it would be something unique so it could be used as a hashtag on Twitter and Tumblr without catching a lot of irrelevant stuff, but I’m…not sure what that should be? I like “one good thing” but people are already using that, and it’s a common enough phrase that tracking it might not be helpful. Something about “small good things” might also work but that’s not completely accurate because it doesn’t have to be only small things (also, copyright is probably not a huge issue but I know there’s a short story called “A Small Good Thing” that addresses a similar theme, so, maybe best to avoid that wording?). Then I was thinking “the Hope Jar” because that’s descriptive and more likely to be unique, but then again that maybe refers too much to the original concept, which otherwise isn’t that important.

Anyway…if I’d really had my act together I would’ve started this January 1, and then my vague goal was to have it all up by the inauguration because the election was the main reason I started wanting to do this, but haha even that’s not super likely considering how long it’s taken me just to do this post. But hey, at least I’ve done that now, and I would definitely appreciate thoughts on this idea.

[capostrophe]

I’ve been reading posts about thoughts on ASOUE and I decided to rank the books in order of my favourite to least favourite:

(contains spoilers)

1. The Slippery Slope (Book the Tenth): Lots of VFD exploration and an explanation of what it means, the explanation (finally) of how all the Baudelaires’ ‘relatives’ have all been connected to VFD, the appearance of Quigley Quagmire, the return of Carmelita, brilliant Esme moments, the rise of the man with a beard but no hair and the woman with hair but no beard, and seeing Olaf being afraid of someone for once. Plus some brilliant plots, and seeing Sunny grow into herself a bit more and develop a talent other than just biting. And of course, my favourite ship, Quiglet. I think also it was well-written, and more than redeemed the three books that came before it, which I found a bit silly/pushing it where suspension of disbelief is concerned. This one also had a couple of good insights into the developing theme of how people are more complicated than being categorised into ‘good’ and ‘evil’, with the Bauds and Quigley almost willing to kidnap Esme in order to save Sunny. Plus, there is the forever brilliant line ‘and then we burnt down the swimming pool, which was very difficult to burn down.’ 

2. The Grim Grotto (Book the Eleventh):I know this one was a bit of a filler book between VFD HQ and reaching the Hotel Denouement, but I still loved it. Widdershins was brilliant. The Medusoid Mycelium entered the story. The sugar bowl, oh, the sugar bowl. Good to have a whole book focussing on it. And there was so much exploration of the good/evil conundrum, with Fernald turning out to be Fiona’s brother, Fiona joining Olaf to stay with her family, the involvement of the Anwhistles with the Medusoid Mycelium and the Baudelaires looking back and remembering not only the good times with their parents, but the hard times. Plus there were plenty of humorous moments in this, from Olaf’s weird (ho ho sniggle) laugh (though I’m glad he ditched that later) just because villains should have one, to Carmelita’s song (I still assert that ‘gorgeous’ begins with the letter ‘m’) to the many aye!s. Phil’s return cheered me, especially when he said ‘hooray!’ instead of ‘aye!’, and them making an effort for Violet’s birthday was sweet. Plus, Sunny’s cooking made me hungry, especially the pesto lo mein.

3. The Reptile Room (Book the Second): The one which begun the formula of Olaf showing up in disguise and the Bauds going from relative to relative, and I like that the place they went after Olaf was so happy, at least for a while. Plus I love that Olaf’s disguise in this one was pretty much just a fake beard, and it fooled people. That trope eventually got old, but in this one it was wonderful. Plus the humour was in full swing here, with the whole page of ‘ever,’ Stephano trying convince people the Mamba du Mal must have escaped and then locked itself back in its cage again, and the Baudelaires going to get in the damn jeep. 

4. The Ersatz Elevator (Book the Sixth): Esme was a brilliant addition to the series. She brilliantly satirises people who wear/eat/use things they dislike because of fashion, as does the whole of Dark Avenue, and giving Olaf an (eventual) girlfriend was a good move. We see more sides of him in a relationship, and it eventually turns him from simply an evil villain to a person who still has some normal-person elements to his life, which I think is a good prelude to the eventual message Snicket puts out that people are chef’s salads and simply human rather than purely virtuous/villainous. The Baudelaires’ devotion to the Quagmires was touching, and their quest to rescue them gave the Bauds something more to do than simply wait around for Olaf to show up. Plus it was good to have them back in their old city again, and able to return to places they used to love, with the bittersweet tinge that their old house and family no longer exist. 

5. The Austere Academy (Book the Fifth): I always wondered why none of the Bauds’ guardians sent them to school. Having them at school let us have an aspect of their life we’d missed out on otherwise, seeing them in class, and making friends. I loved that they found friends in the Quagmires, and for once had company their own age other than each other, and finally they have people who believe them about Olaf, and are willing to help them and even risk their lives for them. This was the first book without a semi-happy ending, in that they didn’t really defeat Olaf and he ran off with the Quagmires. Plus Nero’s egotistical concerts were hilarious, Carmelita’s bullying was spot on and the word ‘cakesniffer’ was born. Plus I love the satire of the way people depend too much on computers, thinking that an advanced computer, just by existing, will keep Olaf away. Also makes me think,though, that their advanced computer sounds ancient, and therefore makes me question whether having the internet exist in the Netflix verse is a good idea. 

6. The Penultimate Peril (Book the Twelfth): The entire series seemed to be leading up to this book. The Baudelaires ‘grow up,’ they reach the last safe place and everyone comes back to see justice done (or not, depending on whose side they’re on). I like the layout of the hotel, the simultaneous chapters, and the brief but significant relationship the Baudelaires have with Dewey Denouement. Carmelita’s tomboyishness was amusing, as were Olaf and Esme trying to advertise themselves to single men and women during the trial after they split up. I had been waiting intensely for Olaf and the Bauds to be tried and Olaf to be exposed once and for all, but it was a nice twist for the other judges to be the man with a beard but no hair and the woman with hair but no beard. The scene with the harpoon gun was touching in all the right ways, with the Bauds willing to sacrifice themselves for Dewey, Olaf having a moment where he falters and wonders what else he could do if not the wicked thing and Dewey’s unfortunate and accidental demise. And the Baudelaires ending up teaming up with Olaf made for the most suspenseful ending yet (I feel a lot of the potential leading off from that was a bit wasted in the last book though). Plus the notion that maybe the Baudelaire parents murdered Olaf’s parents really epitomises the whole idea that both sides of the VFD schism did wicked things, no matter what reasons they thought they had. 

7. The Bad Beginning (Book the First): Although in my opinion many of the later books surpassed it, this one is still awesome for beginning it all and introducing us to Snicket land, Olaf’s schemes and the incompetent Mr Poe. The marriage plan was quite a brilliant one, although Olaf’s paedo-ish tendencies towards Violet in this one were a bit creepy. This book introduced us to the way the Baudelaires used their various skills, and I still think Violet’s grappling hook was one of my favourite of her inventions, and her promise to look after her siblings one of my favourite moments with her. Plus having them live with Olaf gave us a good idea of what he was like and what he would be willing to do to get his way, and that understanding of him can be carried through all the books. 

8. The Miserable Mill (Book the Fourth): I have to begin with my favourite aspect of this: Violet and Klaus having to do each other’s thing. And getting the job done, despite inventing not  being Klaus’ thing and researching not being Violet’s. The paying in coupons is a good commentary on the way people can be trapped in dead end jobs, because they can’t make enough to afford to leave, with Sir meanwhile enjoying luxury being another good comment on the way those with plenty often take advantage of those with little. I do like the relationship between Sir and Charles, and Phil’s optimism. Georgina Orwell puzzles me, as she’s one of Olaf’s associates that is neither part of his troupe, nor mentioned again after her death, and I don’t know if she was part of VFD or not, although items of her outfit turned up in the VFD disguise kit, so then again, she might have been. Who was she when she wasn’t Doctor Orwell, then? I wonder. 

9. The Wide Window (Book the Third): This one gets points for Aunt Josephine. As a grammar nazi and someone with anxiety myself, I could relate to her. A lot. The Anxious Clown restaurant was one of my favourite bits, and I have a soft spot for Larry the Waiter, and the line about not putting things one is allergic to in one’s mouth, particularly if that thing is cats. That said, this one was very similar to book two, plot-wise. 

10. The Hostile Hospital (Book the Eighth): The cranioectomy was, I have to say, a bit silly. Qualified doctors, even in Snicketland, should know that’s ridiculous.  The plot also meant there was a lack of Violet for quite a while, or at least Violet actively doing anything. That said, there were some things I liked about this one, namely Violet saving them then having to be saved, the anagrams, the library of records and Esme’s outfit. Esme in general in this one was rather good, and I liked seeing her go out on her own to get the Bauds. The Baudelaires pieced together a bit more of the VFD mystery, and I like that not only did Olaf’s associates reuse their old disguises, but the disguise trope started being subverted with the Baudelaires being the wanted ones, and dressing up in very unconvincing outfits and actually fooling people. Having them wind up hiding from Olaf in his own car was a great ending too, with a lot of suspense and potential which was then used well in book 9. And of course, the line ‘you don’t give muffins to murderers!’ will always have a place in my heart. This one marked the beginning of Mr Poe’s absence, though, and even though he’s annoying, I keenly felt that absence. That said, the Bauds struck off on their own from this book onward, and I liked them having that independence, even if it was sort of forced upon them. 

11. The End (Book the Thirteenth): After all the intensity and action that was Book Twelve, this one was a bit anticlimactic. It seemed, to me, too long, and the whole island story was a bit tedious. It was still good, but this sort of society seemed more suited to one of the earlier books, when the Baudelaires were still leaping from guardian to guardian rather than fending for themselves. I did like the reveal that Kit and Olaf had been lovers, Olaf doing one noble deed in helping Kit, and the Baudelaires looking after the new Beatrice. Interesting, too, to see that the Baudelaires’ parents seemed to think Lemony Snicket was dead,and I was glad at last to see a whole group of people, adults included, who actually saw through one of Olaf’s disguises. What I didn’t like was that a lot of mysteries where VFD was concerned were left unsolved, and the Baudelaires having to face a society that had incriminated them was left open at the end of the book. That said, having an ending where nothing is resolved is very Snicket, and I do think it is a good reflection of what life can be like. Still, it was a bit disappointing to invest in a lot of characters and plot lines that didn’t make it into this book at all. Rereads of Book 13 get me excited to reread ATWQ, however, and do make me wonder whether the Quagmires were eaten by the Bombinating Beast, and hope they weren’t. I do sort of wish the book had been called something like ‘The Egregious End’ or some other alliteration, rather than straying from the title formula. 

12. The Carnivorous Carnival (Book the Ninth): This is another one (see my comment on Book 7) where my suspension of disbelief was pushed a bit too much, with most of society seeing nothing wrong with feeding people to lions. I did, however, like the humour and irony in people judging the ‘freaks,’ thinking Hooky/Fernald was normal and apologising for offending him,  but then laughing at an ambidextrous person. To me that reflects very much the way our society has stopped disciminating against some minorities, but are still very much willing to discriminate against others. It was interesting to see how Olaf was finding out where the Baudelaires were, although I do have to say that he seemed to arrive too quickly in some cases to have had time to go to the Hinterlands, consult Lulu and for there already to be newspaper articles about them in various places for her to consult. I did enjoy Esme and Olaf’s relationship being explored in a bit more detail, including her jealousy of Lulu when Olaf pays her attention, and the fact that this book seems to mark the beginning of Snicket’s exploration into the way people aren’t wholly ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ with the Carnival workers joining Olaf because they want to be accepted by someone, and the Baudelaires burning down the carnival to survive, and realising treachery isn’t as simple as they thought. 

13. The Vile Village (Book the Seventh): The adults being stupid and ignorant thing was taken too far in this one. Plus a village which is somehow exempt from regular laws and can just randomly burn people for something as silly as putting too many nuts in an ice cream sundae is just ridiculous, even for Snicketland.Most silly things that happen seem to be a parody of something in modern society. This town didn’t. I never liked how close the Bauds came to death in this one and it actually scared me to read it the first time. I came close to not finishing it, and ergo the series. I’m glad I pushed through it. This one also seemed to be a bit of a holdup in the discovery of VFD, more so than the others. Hector was a disappointment to the Baudelaires, in my opinion more than any other guardian/adult in charge of them, including Mr. Poe. He was willing to let them be burnt alive rather than stand up to people he found intimidating. The one redeeming feature of this one was the Quags ended up safe from Olaf. This one remains to this day my least favourite. I did like the Littlest Elf, though, and I’m glad it made it into the movie. 

[inloveandwords]

BLACK LIVES MATTER. Visit this link for ways you can help.

*= I am trying to make a more conscious effort to read books by authors of color. I know many others are as well. Moving forward, I will be annotating books by authors of color with an asterisk. Please let me know if I missed one or mislabeled one.

Stats

Total: 28 DNF: 3 Rereads: 0 Ebooks: 7 Physical Books: 2 Audiobooks: 19 1-Stars: 0 2-Stars: 0 3-Stars: 8 4-Stars: 8 5-Stars: 12

DNF

*Real Men Knit by Kwana Jackson I received this as an eARC from Netgalley. This is a contemporary romance about a woman whose mother-figure has passed away, leaving behind her 4 adoptive sons. Some of them want to close her knitting store, but one wants to keep it open and enlists the help of our heroine. The author, Kwana Jackson, also goes by KM Jackson, is a Black author. She has a big backlist of contemporary romance novels under the KM Jackson pen name that I definitely want to check out.

I think this book was just a case of bad timing and burn out for me. I found myself skimming pretty early on in this book because it felt like the story wasn’t moving forward at all. Scenes were lasting too long to keep my attention. It was actually pretty disappointing because I was really excited about this book! I don’t knit, but I crochet, and I liked hearing about yarn and knitting in Penny Reid’s Knitting in the City series, however, I had to put this one down. Amazon

Becoming Mrs. Lockwood by LI Lynn I talk more about this in my 7yo Picks my TBR video, but this was a book that Roree picked out for me. I think I heard this is a Twilight fanfiction, but it’s another one that reads like fanfiction, however, is extremely different than the original. It’s about a girl who is on vacation with her mom in Las Vegas, but hasn’t been able to see any sights since her mom is gambling all day and night. Since she is underage, she can’t go with her. All of that felt like a stretch to begin with, but then this super hot guy spots her from across the room and immediately is in love with her and takes her out to see Las Vegas. There is also an age gap in this, but it isn’t a good one. She’s a very immature 18 year old who is still in high school. This is mentioned when they first meet, yet he still pursues her. It just… rubbed me the wrong way. Like, how can this be instalove and still be a 500+ page contemporary romance. I DON’T UNDERSTAND! Amazon

Taming Her Mountain Man (Bear’s Tooth Mountain Man #1) by Cameron Hart I read this for the Weekend Contemporaryathon, so I talk more about that in my Contemporaryathon Vlog. It’s about an adoptive girl that is running away from her shady adoptive parents to her estranged grandmother’s cabin in the mountains where she meets this older, loner mountain man who is running away from his past. This is a novella, so it’s obviously very instalovey. What put me off of it was the main character and the instalove wasn’t done well. She’s another one who is SO immature that I was weirded out by the age gap. I think I’ve found that I don’t mind age gaps as long as there isn’t a big difference in maturity levels. Amazon

  3 Stars

  Remind Me (Magnolia Sound #1) by Samantha Chase This was a book I just randomly listened to off of Hoopla before I realized I have a limit on how many books I can read on that app. My library just got Hoopla, so I’m still learning. To be completely honest, I remember next to nothing about this book and the next one on this list.

If I remember correctly, it is a second chance romance about a girl who has moved away from a small town in North Carolina. She had a summer fling with her grandfather’s neighbor, but she moves away to NY to be a successful woman in tech (as they do in these types of romances). A hurricane is threatening the town and they are being asked to evacuate, but her grandfather is refusing to leave, so the hero stays with him.

I want to take a moment here to talk about this. I live in FL and have lived through many hurricanes. Some that were scary (Irma), some that fizzled out to be nothing but some wind and rain. Either way, living here my whole life has taught me that when there is a mandatory evacuation, you GTFO ASAP. Hurricanes can and have flattened entire communities.

Anyway, this book was just meh. I didn’t really care about the characters. There wasn’t a lot of chemistry. It was just ok. Amazon

The Royal Treatment (Alaskin Royal Family #1) by MaryJanice Davidson I recently did a video talking about the books that got me through my Twilight hangover back in the day, and Mary Janice Davidson’s Undead series was on this list. When I came across this book on Audible Escape, I was curious to see how her contemporary romances would be.

And it was as I expected. Just meh. This is an alternative/futuristic reality in which Alaska is it’s own country or something weird like that. Anyway, they have a king there who is looking for a wife who would make a good princess for his son. He ends up setting up our main character with his son.

A couple of things were weird about this. First, the who Alaska thing seemed unnecessary, like, just make up a country like everyone else does. Second, she didn’t really do anything that I saw for the King to think she was so amazing. Something I did find interesting, was this was almost opposite of instalove. Both of them seemed pretty neutral about each other aside from sexual chemistry until the very end. I actually really appreciated that.

Also, the synopsis calls this book erotic. It’s not. If I did steam fans like Steph, I’d give this one 3 steam fans. Amazon

PS It’s Always Been You Part 1 by Lauren Blakely I read this one for the Weekend Contemporaryathon and talk about it in that vlog. Let’s be real, I read this for Scott Eastwood’s narration… and it was pretty disappointing. The book and his narrating. He had a lot of awkward pauses. Anyway, the time it’s going to take me to tell you what this book is about is pretty much as long as it took me to listen to this audiobook. It’s about this daredevil, reality TV show guy who once hooked up with this girl who is some sort of historian, but ends up ditching her for his career, until one day they end up having to work together. And that’s it. That’s the whole story. The End. Amazon

Abducting Abby (Dragon Lords of Valdier #1) by SE Smith I 100% do not remember reading this book at all. This is what happens when I go crazy adding audiobooks to my favorites in Hoopla (which I use as my TBR) because I got over-excited about having a new service.

This is a short, smutty, sci-fi romance that I picked up because… dragons. Abby creates and sells luxury artwork from her cabin in the mountains when one day an alien space ship crash lands in the woods near her and she ends up saving the guy inside not realizing that he’s a dragon shifter.

Now that I’m remembering the story, I did enjoy reading this one, it just wasn’t anything particularly special. I think I may actually move on in the series, though. If you like the whole fated mates thing, you’ll like this one. It’s no IPB, but it’s good for IPB hangovers. Averie – you should totes give this one a try! Amazon

Fire in His Blood (Fireblood Dragon #1) by Ruby Dixon Ruby Dixon is the author of IPB, and I was super interested to see how her other books are. This series is a fated mates dragon shifter post-apocolyptic romance. It’s pretty long, I was expecting it to be short like IPB, but it’s not. And I feel like I would’ve liked it better if it was. It just got a little repetitive. I did like when there is a communication barrier between the hero and heroine in these types of books. Especially when the hero recognizes that she’s his mate, but she’s like WTF, dude, back off. And I especially, especially like when they respect consent despite the communication difference. I’m over here like, “IF AN ALIEN DRAGON SHIFTER WHO HAS INVADED OUR PLANET CAN UNDERSTAND CONSENT, WHY CAN’T YOU, BROCK?” Amazon

Racked and Stacked (Blacktop Cowboys #9) by Lorelei James I read this for a secret TBR that I’m in the middle of right now because when I do secret TBRs it takes me years, so I’m not going to talk about this one too much. Just know it’s a cowboy romcom, enemies to lovers. Amazon

Something to Talk About by Meryl Wilsner This was an ARC I received from Netgalley. It’s Berkely’s first F/F published romance, which is awesome for the author. And I think this is OWN voices, but I’m not sure. I had super high expectations going into this one – I didn’t realize how high until the book didn’t meet them. It’s about a woman who works in the entertainment industry, I think she’s a director or producer, and her assistant. The media thinks that they are dating because of something that happens while paparazzi were around. This is a SUPER CRAZY INSANE slow burn. Like… the first kiss doesn’t even happen until 75% into this book. Don’t get me wrong, I adore slow burn. Mariana Zapata is my favorite contemporary romance author, but the burn was so slow in this one, it affected how I felt about the relationship. I started not caring after awhile whether they got together or not.

I can see how some of the scenes were supposed to be super full of tension, but I think because it took so long for the relationship to develop, I just wasn’t as invested. Amazon

Shy Girls Write It Better (Some Girls Do It #1) by May Sage I read this one for Contemporaryathon and talk about it in the vlog. It’s about a woman who writes erotic romance and accidentally gives her hot boss a copy of one of her manuscripts instead of a report and instead of getting mad, he wants to give her real life BDSM experience because she writes it so badly.

Overall, this was pretty good for a short, smutty read. I don’t love the overly innocent, inexperienced heroine to begin with, so that definitely affected my rating. Also the fact that she’s supposed to be a super successful romance author and she knows she sucks at writing BDSM, but yet she continues to do it? I don’t know, something about that entire aspect of the premise was off to me and I think this book would’ve been better without it.

I did really like that the hero wasn’t your stereotypical alpha, though. That was refreshing. Amazon

4 Stars

Point of Retreat (Slammed #2) by Colleen Hoover I read this book for Contemporaryathon. It’s the sequel to Slammed which is Colleen Hoover’s debut novel, a contemporary romance involving slam poets. Obviously it’s so much more than that, I mean, it’s Colleen Hoover. At first I wasn’t sure if this book was necessary before reading it, but Layken and Will’s story definitely wasn’t done. Amazon

*Flame in the Mist (Flame in the Mist #1) by Renee Ahdieh Renee Ahdieh is a Korean-American author and this book was a unique twist on Mulan. This book was as beautiful and badass as the cover.

I’ve always been partial to the story of Mulan, but I love how much more intricate this story was in comparison.

Our main character doesn’t magically have all sorts of powers and though she is a badass, it’s because of her quick-thinking bravery, and resilience, not any magical skill.

The writing was also one of my favorite things about this book. It was beautiful and fit so well with the story itself. I felt like I was experiencing everything our main character did, right beside her. Amazon

*The Marriage Game by Sara Desai I received this ARC from Netgalley. I believe this is an OWN voices novel. It’s a fun enemies to lovers romance where our main character, Layla, moves home with her big family after a humiliating break up that essentially lost her her job. Her father sets her up, not only with the office above his restaurant, but also with some arranged marriage prospects (without her knowledge). Little does she know, he also rented out the space to Sam, CEO of a corporate downsizing company. Read my review here. Amazon

*The Fire Between High & Lo (Elements #2) by Brittainy C Cherry My monthly Brittainy C Cherry novel. If you don’t know, I discovered BCC this year and fell in love with her books. I’ve been reading at least one of her backlist titles per month. She is a Black author, by the way.

This is a sunshine and grumpy, friends-to-lovers romance about two teenagers who have very rough home lives. Our hero’s mother is struggling with bad addiction which has trickled down to him and has been affecting him since he was a young child. Our heroine’s mother, though successful, is cold and disinterested. Though they come from completely different backgrounds, there is a lot they have in common that bring them together and they become really good friends.

This wasn’t my favorite BCC. That being said, It was still a really good, emotional story that I’ve come to expect from her. I think the main reason why I couldn’t give this 5 stars as I have literally every other BCC I’ve read, is because there is a lot of drug use and addiction in this novel and it’s just not my favorite thing to read about. Amazon

Mind Reader by Kirsty McManus I read this book for Contemporaryathon and talk about it in my vlog as well. This is one of those novellas that I found for free on Kindle and downloaded because it sounded fun. The hero can see other people’s soul mates and knows when they will meet. Until he meets our heroine, a woman who works in the STEM field who thinks it’s all BS. Their paths cross and sparks fly.

This book is perfect for those who prefer a lot less steam. It’s very fade-to-black.

This book was a lot of fun to read. I had a lot of expectations going into this book, and I expected it to be pretty predictable, but it surprised me a few times. Though the beginning as a little rough, it starts from the hero’s POV and he was kind of douchey, but the book ended up being super sweet. Amazon

*The Worst Best Man by Mia Sosa I believe this is OWN voices for the latinx rep. It’s a romantic comedy between a woman who has been left at the alter and the groom’s best man and brother. Because of this, it is a hate-to-love, but it’s so much more. The hero is dealing with issues of his own self worth in comparison to his brother (the ex-groom). The heroine is dealing with prejudice in the workplace.

I feel like this book is a little underrated. It’s not my favorite enemies to lovers, but I think it is a lot better than many of the reviews I’ve read for it were. There are a lot of complaints about the male narrator in the audiobooks and I agree, but it didn’t completely put me off of the book because of it.

I thought that the humor was really good, it was awkward in some areas, and the issues both of the characters were dealing with played out really well. Amazon

*Girl Gone Viral (Modern Love #2) by Alisha Rai Alisha Rai is a South Asian American writer. This was a refreshingly diverse bodyguard romance with fantastic panic disorder rep. Katrina is an ex-model and divorcee to a very wealthy man, she also suffers from debilitating panic attacks, so when a couple in a coffee bar live tweet an interaction between herself and a man who approached her and it goes viral, she’s not only in danger, but it also triggers her anxiety. Her long-time bodyguard whisks her away from the spotlight and sparks fly.

I almost didn’t read this, but I’m so glad I didn’t listen to some of the sub-par reviews, because I really enjoyed this book. First of all, it’s a bodyguard romance and he’s been pining after her for a long time. There is also great anxiety rep.

I had to take away a star only because I felt like the build up of tension between these two characters was so good, but when they finally got together, I was a little let down and I couldn’t put my finger on why exactly. Amazon

*Desolate (Grace #1) by Autumn Grey Autumn Grey has officially been added to my list of authors I need to read their entire backlists alongside Brittainy C Cherry, Mia Sheridan, and Sarina Bowen. Autumn doesn’t have as many books in her backlist as the others, so I’m going to have to pace myself.

I didn’t know what this book was about going into it for Contemporaryathon. I just saw the author’s name and picked it up. Autumn is a Black author, by the way. I recently read Fall Back Skyward by her after buying it from her at Shameless Book Con last year, and I fell in love with it.

This book is a forbidden new adult romance between a man who is planning on becoming a priest and a woman who is wrongfully considered the town whore. As soon as I realized the premise in this book, I was hooked. And the characters, oh my goodness, the characters and their chemistry were so potent. From the moment they met and how fascinated our hero is with the heroine, despite his dedication to God. How he can’t seem to tear himself away from her.

I will say, my only complaint is that this is a cliff hanger. It is part of a trilogy which is complete and I will be reading on in it. That and the hero started driving me crazy at the end because he wouldn’t make a freaking decision, but like I said, I loved this book. Amazon

5 Stars

Sick Kids in Love by Hannah Moskowitz I need to preface this by saying that I know Hannah Moskowitz has said some problematic things on Twitter recently. I haven’t seen them myself, I’ve only seen references, but I do want everyone to know that going into this novel.

With that being said, this book was such a great and refreshing representation of chronic illness in YA. I have Multiple Sclerosis and though none of the characters in this book have that exact illness, they do have their own and they do have similar experiences and thoughts.

The two meet at, I believe, an infusion center. Some place that many with chronic illnesses are very familiar with. And there is great chemistry and bonding and banter from the beginning. There were so many moments where I found myself nodding vigerously as they talked about healthy people vs. people with chronic illnesses. What it’s like to be surrounded by healthy people when you are not. Being limited and defined by your illness. Big topics that were well portrayed.

I definitely felt seen. Amazon

Grin and Beard It (Winston Brothers #2) by Penny Reid I’m slowly but surely making my way through this series and so far I’ve been loving every second of it. Normally I’m not a big fan of the fame element in a romance novel, but it was a little easier to swallow with this book because it was the heroine who is famous. Our heroine is a comedic actress who gets rescued by our hero, a park ranger, in a small town where she is filming her upcoming movie.

Fame plays a big part in this, which I normally don’t like, but there was something about the dynamic between her outgoing, charisma mixed with his southern charm that I loved. Amazon

Beard Science (Winston Brothers #3) by Penny Reid So far the first book is still my favorite, but this comes in close second. This is Cletus’s story, and he’s such a big weirdo I was wondering who he was going to end up with. It was NOT the heroine. Where Cletus is super smart and manipulative and quirky, our heroine is very polished and put together and naive. She has lived under her mother’s thumb working at a very successful bakery.

Nobody in town takes her seriously, especially Cletus, until she blackmails him and they are forced together. Soon, he realizes there is a lot more to this seemingly shallow woman.

I loved this book so much more than I thought I would, given the main character. I thought, when we were first introduced to her that she was going to get on my nerves, but honestly, her character growth and unexpected depth made me change my mind entirely.

And I’m such a fan of quirky heroes, so I loved Cletus, too. Amazon

Powertools: Collection 1 (Powertools 1 & 2) by Jayne Rylon You guys. I never would’ve expected a super steamy reverse harem novel would be so high on my list, but here we are.

I talk a lot more about this book in my Contemporaryathon vlog, but in short, I loved this book because though it was ridiculous, there was a strong romance in both of the two short stories. I also was totally into the whole summer vibe of the first book and the immersive autumn vibes of the second book. Also, the hero in the second book is so swoony and I fell so hard for him. Amazon

The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie (Mackenzies & McBrides #1) by Jennifer Ashley Yay! A historical romance I LOVED! I knew it was only a matter of time until I found one that hit the spot for me and it was absolutely this one.

This was a rec from a comment on one of my videos and they freaking nailed it.

This is a historical romance between a widow and a man with autism. Of course, back then, they just thought he was mad and threw him and everyone treated him so horribly because of it. Seriously, my heart absolutely broke. However, our heroine is the only one who truly understood him, or at least didn’t look down on him. I also absolutely loved her. Because she has her husband’s fortune, she doesn’t need to marry. In fact, men are lining up for her. She also isn’t a naive, innocent virgin. She knows what she wants and she goes after it. She’s smart and witty.

This was everything I am realizing I love in a romance novel. Amazon

*Hamilton: The Revolution by Lin-Manuel Miranda This freaking book.

So, I haven’t seen this musical yet, but I am such a huge fan of Lin-Manuel Miranda and the music – especially Jonathan Groff’s song, though, I’m biased because I’m obsessed with him. I’ve watched performances and interviews and I’m so excited about finally getting to see this on Disney Plus on July 3. I can’t contain myself.

I actually downloaded this audiobook when it went on sale a while ago, but I picked it up on a whim last week and finished it in a day because I became obsessed.

I loved seeing how this musical became the phenomenon it is. I loved hearing Lin’s thought process behind creating it. How he wanted to depict these historical figures in a modern, much more diverse way, using a genre of music that was not associated with Broadway at all. From the choreography to the costumes – it was absolutely fascinating.

I just… I need July 3 to be now. Amazon

Lover Her or Lose Her (Hot & Hammered #2) by Tessa Bailey I wasn’t sure if I was going to like this one. So many people complained about how the hero was way to alpha for them and I kept thinking, “Well, jeez, if he’s too alpha for them, he’ll definitely be too alpha for me.” But, honestly? He wasn’t.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s definitely alpha, but I adored his reasoning for it.

Anyway, this is a second chance romance between a married couple who have a ton of chemistry in bed, but have lost touch of each other in every other way. So, when our heroine has had enough, she decides to leave her husband.

But he is not having it. To him, she is his everything. It’s kind of the opposite of The Bromance Bookclub because he thinks everything is fine since the sex is still really good, but that’s not the case. I loved how this book really dove into love languages and how both people must understand the other’s language and support it.

And there was so much longing, it made my heart hurt. Yes, he was very alpha. He very much wanted to be the one who provided for his wife, however, I wasn’t bothered by it AT ALL. Amaz

The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune OMG this book was so sweet, I couldn’t handle it. It’s a whimsical fantasy that, if I had to explain it in one word, it would be charming.

It’s about a man in his forty’s who has led a very mediocre life thus far. He lives for his job, which is to evaluate orphanages for extraordinary children for a very corporate overlord of a company. He’s sent on a highly classified job to check out this orphanage for especially gifted, some think dangerous, children.

It’s very elementary school x-men.

And oh my goodness, the character growth and the relationships that are built, both familial, romantic, and platonic are all so strong and vibrant. This book absolutely lives up to the hype. Amazon

Beach Read by Emily Henry This is another book that absolutely lived up to the hype. Though the title might lead you to believe that this is going to be a fun, light read, it’s really not. There is a lot of substance behind this book that the title and cover do not allude to.

Aside from a swoony romance and hilarious banter and writing, we are dealing with grief, with loss, with resentment … a lot of heavy topics woven between this romcom story about two writers who have challenged themselves to write each other’s genre, one literary fiction, one women’s fiction/romance. Amazon

The Edge #0.5-2 by CD Reiss These are all short, but super intense military suspense romance novels. I feel that the prequel is required reading for this series because it sets up the relationship so solidly, that despite the craziness that this couple goes through in later books, you root hard for them. The couple meet in a war zone, one a surgeon who works for 8 days straight saving lives and one a psychiatrist who is trying to keep him standing and sane – along with all the other medics and soldiers. I felt like this book was so well researched and gorgeously written. CD Reiss is called the Shakespeare of Smut for a reason. The steamy scenes were just as intense as the rest of the book.

I absolutely plan on reading the rest of this series! Amazon

May 2020 Wrap Up BLACK LIVES MATTER. Visit this link for ways you can help. *= I am trying to make a more conscious effort to read books by authors of color.

[ineedrelationshipadvice]

Almost relationship but why do I feel like this??

REPLY

Okay, you asked a lot of questions, so I'm going to separate them from the main message and try to hit them one by one. 

The one take-away that I want to emphasize before I begin is that, yes, this does seem to be your friend detaching himself from this relationship. He's creating a distance between himself and you by not speaking to you, both because he probably needs to for his own sake and probably because he also feels a bit burned by the way things went. But we'll get to that in a minute.

1) Why is he being like this all of a sudden? 

This is the question that's most important to me, because you seem to have missed a piece of critical information in your own actions that would potentially illicit this response. There were THREE problems with this relationship that you listed. The obvious one is his internship, and that you both decided not to take things too seriously. There is nothing wrong with that. But the other issue is, "he's not of my religion or race." 

That's harsh, no other way around it. The internship issue and not wanting a long-distance relationship is perfectly understandable. But you also explicitly singled out BOTH his theology and racial disparities with you. I can almost feel him, in his mind, saying, "Well if that was a problem from the beginning, why did you even associate with me?" Having experienced this in my own life, first-hand, this is exactly how I felt - it's this feeling of, well you obviously knew how I felt and who I am as a human, and if you didn't like that, then we shouldn't have even started anything together, because that sucks. This guy was making active efforts toward a person who he later learned had essentially ZERO long-term interest in him as a romantic partner, not based on his character, but based on his theology and skin colour. That sucks any way you swing it, and it does bear the question of why you did let this thing you have with him cross that line if you knew this was a problem. If you didn't know, that's understandable, but I don't feel like he keeps his religion a secret, and he definitely doesn't keep his race a secret. 

This is in no way to shame you, to each their own, and your perspective is valid. But you were essentially leading him on when his core self was already diametrically opposed to your needs, regards, and interests, and you should have taken the initiative and restraint to not pursue something with someone you knew you wouldn't like long-term, short-term feelings aside. If you don't like or can't handle someone because of their beliefs or race, then don't interact romantically with them. 

2) How do we go from "this" to friends again?

There's no right or wrong way to actually handle this. Sometimes people can't step back from their feelings; other people have zero problem doing this. I feel a lot of this may be cleared up by your last hang-out session. But it basically requires both of you talking about your feelings and figuring out what to do about it. Do you need some distance from him? Does he need distance from you? Should you maybe just reconvene when he returns and see how you both feel about friendship when he gets back home? Or are you both willing to stay friends despite everything? That's on you, and nobody can really advise you on what is right for you beyond saying that you should voice all your opinions on the issue and try to hash everything out before the distance between you two grows.

3) How do I go about detaching myself when I want to keep talking?

Again, really differs from person to person. The best advice, hands-down, is to create distance. Just put them out of mind for a little while, and focus on yourself and your own hobbies and interests. This is usually the  most effective way, as it allows you to recenter your life, and focus on what's important to you rather than your feelings. Would it be harder to keep talking? Maybe, but everyone's different. For instance, I personally don't struggle with this issue at all, and can completely detach myself when I need to; it's a process, and hurts, and takes awhile, but I can stay friendly with ex-partners. But you and your emotions might be different, and generally you'll want to go with a "gut check" on this one. Your body will generally know what to do in the situation. Do you feel awful talking to him and thinking about him all the time? Maybe create distance. Are you just fine talking to him? Cool, keep doing it. Is HE enjoying talking to you, or does he need some distance? That's something you ought to ask him directly so you aren't accidentally stepping on toes by trying to be friendly with him. 

4) Should I get closure and talk about our future? 

I'm generally going to say yes. Even if the conversation would be kinda awkward, I feel like if you both don't hash this out before he goes away, it's just going to make emotions confused for both of you. It's better to just clean the slate before anything happens and it starts to percolate weird drama due to time and distance. Just ask the simple question, "What do you expect between yourself and me whenever you're done with your internship?" Listen to him seriously and give him validity in any feelings he has. Try to meet in the middle as best as you can.

5) Is he no longer talking to me because he "got what he wanted?"

No. And you have no reason to feel used. That's a very serious statement, implying that he had weird ulterior motives with you. You've mentioned multiple times in your message that this was intended to be short-term given his situation. Regardless of who has feelings here, you or him, implying that those feelings are not valid because all he wanted from you is some hand-holds and make outs is just a pretty low move, and seems like an easy way for you to claim a moral high ground. "I did nothing wrong, he just was USING MY BODY for his SELFISH DESIRES."

No. It seems like he had legitimate interest in you, either short or long term, and when he learned that you had no long-term interest in him, he seems to have made up his mind. Is that why he's no longer talking to you? Can't say. Is the way you treated him the reason for this? Also can't say. But what can be said is that he didn't use you, and suggesting as such diminishes the experiences of people who are actively used by their partners for physical affection regardless of feelings involved. You both DID exchange feelings; just because he won't talk to you and no longer is actively reciprocating doesn't mean you've been wronged. 

_____________

It's fine if you still crave his attention in the future. I understand on some level that you like and care about this guy. And although I have highlighted some pretty strong claims against your judgement, that doesn't make you a bad person. Detaching from relationships is always hard, regardless of context. And how you do it, as mentioned, will be largely up to your conversations that you have with him as well as making a gut check and determining how you feel in the moment, based on your knowledge of yourself. Beyond that, where the future will lead you both will likely lie where the cards land. 

_______________

ORIGINAL MESSAGE

Hi! So recently the guy I’ve had a big crush on for the past year and a half finally showed interest in me and took me out. It started by him giving me his number 2 months ago and we texted way into the morning almost every other day until one day he suggested we go see a movie. He held my hand and said we should do this again sometime. We’ve “hung out” 4 times since then like painting, ice skating, eating out, etc. however, here is the twist. He’s leaving for the next semester for an internship opportunity so this “short term thing” has a definite end. We’ve even talked about this and I said I didn’t want to lead him on because even if we do date it can’t go serious since he’s not of my religion or race and can’t think of marrying him. Anyways, he’s made out with me on our last date and kept making sure we were on the same page and Makes sure that I don’t get attached. We plan on staying friends when he does return to finish his semester but how do we go from “this” to friends again? We went from joking friends to “this” in the first place and I feel like the mistake we made was not setting clear boundaries since we know this Has to end. He suddenly went from long text convos about random topics we’d talk about to not responding to a simple question I asked him last night. It’s been an entire day he hasn’t responded and Ik he’s definitely looked at it. Why is he being like this all of a sudden? Is it cuz he know he has to leave in a few weeks and is already starting the process of detachment? Either way I enjoy texting him and his overall attention. I like the convos we talk about and in general texting/spending time with him. I’m afraid when he comes back for the fall semester, even though we said we’d be friends, he won’t talk to me and things will be awkward because of this “almost relationship” short term thing we had. I definitely do not want that happening because we started out as good friends and it would hurt me to loose him completely. How do I go about detaching myself from him when he leaves even if I still want to text him/snap him like friends? Would I be hurting myself more or would the transition to friends be easier if we still kept communication while he was gone? Also, we’re hanging out one more time before he actually leaves. Do you think I should get closure and just talk to him about what I would like from our relationship when gets back as friends? Also with him not responding to my text do you think he’s losing interest in me since he got what he “wanted”?? I feel used especially because we made out and since then we haven’t talked like that. Thanks SO MUCH IN ADVANCE I know this was super long but this is my first “relationship thing” ever and I m just confused and worried that I’ll get hurt but still crave his attention.

[kansascityhappenings]

California firefighter narrowly escaped a deadly mudslide, her heroic efforts saved dozens of lives

https://embed-prod.vemba.io/vemba-embed.js

Maeve Juarez was perched in the worst possible place, but she had no idea. In the middle of the night, the Montecito Fire Department supervisor sat in her truck waiting for the incoming rainstorm.

What she didn’t know was that a massive mudslide was about to trigger a series of events that would very nearly kill her and take the lives of nearly two dozen people. The disaster would force Juarez to make tough choices that may have ultimately saved countless lives.

The Thomas Fire, which devastated swaths of Southern California in December 2017, would go down as the largest blaze in the state’s history at the time. It destroyed some 1,000 structures, including 10 homes in Montecito, the rural but ritzy coastal town nestled in a Santa Barbara County hillside, about 90 miles north of Los Angeles.

The fire also burned through the root systems of trees and plants — a botanical mesh that, before the fire, held the soil in place on the slopes above town. But now this loosened earth was getting saturated with a massive amount of rain in a little bit of time. There was nothing to keep the mud from sliding down hill.

“I myself spent 29 days on the Thomas Fire. I was really looking forward to the rain coming,” Juarez said. “I came and parked on the bridge and shut the truck off.”

That bridge, which was several feet above what used to be a small creek, also ran above a natural gas pipeline. As the rain began to fall, Juarez was happy — fire season was finally coming to an end. She says no one thought the rain was going to be a problem.

“We were just thinking we were going to be up all night delivering sandbags,” Juarez said. But she also knew the people who live in Montecito had natural disaster fatigue.

“The community had already been evacuated for a little over a week because of the Thomas Fire,” Juarez recalled. “It was Christmas time. It was the holidays. People were really upset to leave their homes.”

Earlier in the day, she met a mother in a different part of town who was filling up sandbags with her daughters. Sitting on the bridge, she started to worry about the woman’s property getting flooded. Spontaneously, Juarez decided to go check on her.

Less than a minute later, as Juarez recalls, a mountain of mud rumbled downhill and severed the gas line, which exploded and destroyed the bridge.

At the time, she had no idea what had happened. But if she had stayed on the bridge she would have likely died in the explosion.

As she drove away, the fountain of flame behind her was intense.

“It (looked) like 2 o’clock in the afternoon it was so bright. It was probably a thousand-foot flame in length,” Juarez said. “Some people that I spoke to said that they woke up and thought that they overslept — that it was noon because it was so bright outside.”

But before she could focus on the fire, she had to get control of her truck.

“As I was turning onto the main street was when the deluge came down — water, boulders and everything started to come down the street and it swept my truck down,” Juarez said.

There was so much going on that she said she doesn’t remember the sound of the explosion.

“I didn’t have control of the vehicle and knew I just needed to pull into a driveway so that I could get back up to the fire.”

She headed back up the road on foot. Other vehicles were now coming down the street. “People were yelling things out the window about fire and I could hear someone saying, ‘My house exploded.’”

After accidentally dropping her radio in the water, Juarez returned to her truck and decided to drive up the street.

“Power lines were down. There were massive boulders. There were a ton of vehicles — vehicles that had been abandoned, vehicles that were running,” Juarez said. These roadblocks combined with knee-high water, stopped her from being able to drive too far.

Then, an engine arrived which had been pre-staged in the neighborhood. Juarez went into action, sending the engine to assess the fire nearby. Next, she directed another firefighter to use her truck to shuttle people to safety.

After firefighters determined the nearby flames were from a gas fire and wouldn’t die easily, she then sent those same firefighters to start knocking on doors to looking for people who needed help.

‘Everything was gone’

“The first house they came to they found two burn victims in the house that had jumped out of their house when it caught on fire … and crawled into another home,” Juarez recounted. “That’s where my firefighters found them. I asked them to bring them to my vehicle.”

It was a husband and wife, both burned and covered in mud. The wife, who was naked, was going into shock.

“I pulled my pants off and put those on her. Ripped my shirt off, my sweatshirt — put those on her,” Juarez said. “I just wanted to give her the warm clothes that I had to heat her up as quickly as I possibly could.”

Juarez also wanted to get the couple out quickly. As she tried to drive out of the neighborhood, that’s when she realized the situation was worse than she thought.

“I went to turn to the west and the whole neighborhood was gone,” Juarez said, remembering how boulders decimated entire homes. “It didn’t make sense. There were no homes left, just gone. You couldn’t see anything of a house. Everything was gone. I mean the road was gone. There was nothing left. It was just a river in this neighborhood.”

They were cut off to the east as well. She radioed in for a helicopter to rescue the couple but was told that aircraft were grounded because of the heavy rain. Then the Coast Guard — equipped to fly in these conditions — agreed to get them out. Since the woman couldn’t walk, Juarez carried her on her back a couple of hundred feet to the helicopter.

All along, Juarez — who spent 18 years working for the U.S. Forest Service, most recently as a battalion chief — was managing resources in other areas of the disaster as part of her supervisor duties. She had three pages of notes of people trapped and people with injuries to whom she was sending help.

As soon as the helicopter took off, Juarez headed off to the next call.

‘…I just started hearing people yelling for help…’

A man stopped her to tell her about another resident with a broken leg. She had gotten the call but thought she couldn’t get anyone to him. But this man knew a back way into the neighborhood.

“When I got out of the truck, I just started hearing people yelling for help,” she recalled.

This is when it sunk in for Juarez that they were dealing with something larger than just structure fires. She called her resources to this neighborhood and asked operations to send every helicopter with a hoist.

“I knew I had a lot of multiple calls coming in for gas leaks,” Juarez said. Afraid of another explosion, she directed her firefighters to evacuate residents to a nearby golf course. “We just tried to tell as many people as we could to get to rooftops so that we could hoist them out.”

The conditions were making rescue attempts difficult. The mud was waist-high on Juarez and the water was rushing. She asked her firefighters to put on their personal protective flotation devices before they crossed a creek to get into this neighborhood.

“The weather service said that another storm was coming,” Juarez said. “I had to make the decision to pull everybody out of there and get them to safety.”

Two of her firefighters were still working to rescue a family; she asked the helicopter to take those first responders out as well.

Juarez climbed on a rooftop, afraid the hillsides were going to come down again.

“I thought for sure it was coming. I thought for sure it was happening again and I didn’t think I was going to make it in my truck,” she recalled. “I wanted to be the last one out. I sent the engine. I sent the patrol out.”

After the family and firefighters were airlifted out, Juarez headed back to her truck. As she was driving back to the golf course, she got a text from a friend.

The mother of the family they had just lifted out with her firefighters was still in the house.

Juarez drove back to the house in the rain. “I called her name and I tried to get to her,” Juarez said. “There were several moments that I was driving down the street telling myself I probably shouldn’t be driving in here. But I hope that someone would do that for me. So, I felt like I had to do it for her.”

The woman didn’t survive.

“She definitely is one of the tougher ones that stuck with me for sure because I really wanted to find her,” Juarez said, her voice softened.

A year later, the memories are still fresh

In all, 21 people died in the mudslide that relentlessly cascaded down the hillside, through the town, across the 101 highway and into the Pacific Ocean.

“There were people stranded on the 101 in their vehicles that we couldn’t get to for hours,” said California Highway Patrol Captain Cindy Pontes.

The mud was above the center divider on the highway which was shut down for 12 days while crews worked around the clock to clear the roadway.

While the rescues were happening, Pontes was afraid they were going to lose an officer or a firefighter.

“There were other first responders that were caught in debris flows and they made it through,” Pontes said. “I don’t know how. They didn’t have control of their vehicles.”

“I don’t know how any of us walked away,” Juarez said about Montecito Fire. “I mean no one in the department even had a paper cut.”

Juarez continued to work for some 36 hours, most of that time unaware that the bridge she had been on before the disaster began was demolished in the explosion.

Despite all she did and all the people she helped save, Juarez remains humble about her efforts. “I just came to work that day and that’s not a normal every day thing but that’s something that we, you know, we anticipate,” she said.

Pontes has no doubt Juarez is a hero. “She was absolutely selfless, put her life on the line for others and physically gave the shirt off her back to one of the victims that was burned,” Pontes said. “She went above and beyond the call of duty.”

More than a year later, California is having a much wetter winter than usual and every time a storm hits, Juarez does think back to the mudslide. “After you go through something like that, the rain is completely different for you,” she said. “You hear the pitter patter on the roof and you think, ‘Is it going to happen again?’”

But now the threat is all too fresh in the town’s collective memory so Santa Barbara County officials, including Juarez, keep their eyes on the creeks and the debris basins, making sure the water is moving through them unobstructed.

“The new normal in Montecito is to have heavy equipment parked anywhere there’s a waterway,” Juarez explained. “We’re all kind of on watch that we might need to go dig that area out to clear anything out so that the waters can flow properly.”

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2019/03/04/california-firefighter-narrowly-escaped-a-deadly-mudslide-her-heroic-efforts-saved-dozens-of-lives/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2019/03/04/california-firefighter-narrowly-escaped-a-deadly-mudslide-her-heroic-efforts-saved-dozens-of-lives/