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factorialsfandoms · 2 years ago

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I... couldn’t find an idea for any of today’s prompts I liked, so here please take an /extreme/ stretch on ‘tossing and turning’, with the water fairy from HW Great Sea Map J4. Maybe its better to call this alt prompt - dazed & confused.

Bo had not even realised the threat before a net fell down over her. She had merely been out exploring, looking for new excitement as fairies of her age were wont to do. Somewhere, far from the reach of her friends, she had sat down for a nap. It was a good nap, a lovely nap.

And then she was awoken by the screams of bloodshed and battle, and to a net over her head.

In panic she tried to flee, but it did her no good - whomever had caught her was an expert, quickly transferring her to a bottle, and stoppering the cork.

Terrified she turned, reaching out to beg her captor to let her go free and escape this place. She’s be no trouble, just let her go.

He did not let her go.

Instead, her captor upended the bottle, checking the fit of the cork. With the sudden movement Bo could not spread her wings in time, and instead crashed hard. The cork at least was softer than the glass, softening her fall. Still she hit it hard, a shock going up her spine.

“Please stop!” she called, only for the bottle to be turned back the other way.

This time she had just about enough time to shriek before she hit the floor - hard - and the breath was stolen entirely from her lungs.

With desperate gasps she pulled in more to replace it, bruised muscles burning with the effort.

Wide eyed she looked up at her captor, too breathless to even beg him again. Instead, she hoped the desperate look and the way her chest moved far too fast would convey the message. He was ugly, but surely he wasn’t that cruel?

He was.

A grin spread across her captor’s face, wicked and cruel and wide. He gave a gleeful shout before suddenly jerking the bottle to one side.

Bo was thrown across the bottle, slamming into the glass. Something snapped this time, and the agony joined the force in pushing air from her lungs. Suddenly realising what was happening she pulled her arms - arm, one refused to move - over her head and curled up, desperately trying to protect herself.

Another jerk, and she slammed into the side once more.

Weren’t bottles supposed to be enchanted to prevent such pain?! Maybe he had just selected a dud one...

This time there was a long break, long enough for her breathing to still and her magic to start wrapping around her wounds, healing the broken arm just enough for her to pull it over her head too; she doubted this would be the end of it.

And she was correct to.

After a bit the bottle was taken and thrown high into the sky, spinning as it did. She was thrown from side to side, the force too much even for prepared wings to fight against, every part of her body slamming into the glass, her arms falling from head head on the fourth or fifth crack.

And then her head began slamming into it, again and again and again, until she could barely see, barely remember, her only real knowledge being the pain and the muffled but yet too loud sounds from outside.

Then suddenly all motion stopped, and something more panicked and shrill cut through. Bo lay on the bottom of the bottle, wings spread out, gasping for air as she tried to orientate herself. On instinct she used magic to straighten her wings and refuse her bones, doing its best to repair the damage to her brain but finding itself at a loss.

Brains were tricky; they took more concentration to fix than Bo was capable of having. Still her magic tried, soothing the pain just enough that she could again see details, and the world stopped turning when she was absolutely still.

She... She could just stay here, right? Stay here for the weeks it would take for her to regain full use of her senses? That would be fine... Right?

But then there was the pop of the lid being removed - suddenly everything sounded ever so much more. Bo flinched, and then yelped as the world shifted beneath her.

Whatever was tipping her from the bottle was much more gentle, but any movement no seemed cruel. She tumbled over the lip, unable to quite find her wings in time not to crash into the hand below.

There was one soothing noise, and another panicked and shrill. Both clawed into her brain, and made her headache pound once more.

It took a lot to sit up, and more still to look around. Her eyes would not focus, no matter what she did, and... and... she was sat on the hand of something very, very tall, and almost certainly monstrous.

Seeing the threat, she tried to bolt, flapping her wings as fast as she could in an attempt to get away. The dizziness reared up again, throwing her off balance - she tilted heavily to the left, her flight path veering and falling both, then over corrected and ended up to the right. Desperately she tried to correct herself, but it was just like her legs! Her wings weren’t working, why weren’t her wings working, why couldn’t she get away?!

Still she tried to escape, trying to head up and away from the battle.

An arrow surely aimed elsewhere clipping her leg, sending her tumbling off course once more. She tried to spread her wings to steady herself, but only somehow managed to straighten the descent.

Why was this so hard?!

It was only flying! Flying... Flying came naturally to fairies!

Panic seizing her heart her breathing froze. Even as she managed to stabalise her fall she could not breathe again; even as she continued on a dangerous and erratic path did she find her vision blurred and her body improperly responsive.

Everything was too loud and her head hurt and she couldn’t breathe and she was so, so, so scared!

A veering to the left, a fall to the right, she dropped and gained altitude at random. Maybe it looked like a clever escape path, but in truth she could not keep her strength balanced or her path straight.

It was proven not to be so when she tried to weave between the fighting armies, only to crash into some manner of red-skinned beast.

The creature did not even notice her, tiny as she was, though the force of the impact left her tumbling to the floor again. Any air left was lost, but some the act managed to trigger her into breathing again.

Not that it would do her much help - the ground was fast approaching, but she was so dizzy she could not even work out which way to fly to not hit it. No matter what she did, it only got closer and closer and closer and if she crashed... If she crashed into the mud on a battlefield, they’d never see her! They’d never see her and she’s simply be crushed to death by all the hundreds of shoes.

But then something else appeared - gloves hands, cupped beneath her. As she touched them they lowered a little, cushioning her fall.

The monster - the second monster, the one that had taken her from the bottle - again. He kept glancing up at the fight around him, but for now remained... strangely still, clicking his tongue gently in what was likely an attempt to soothe.

Bo tried to get up and fly once more. She made it to her knees before her brain was overwhelmed with dizzy, her vision whiting out for a moment as she keeled over to one side.

This... This was it, then. To be devoured by some monster who could not even absorb her magic right.

Unable to do anything else she began to sob. Every jerking motion made agony run through her head, her vision whiting each time, but it was all she could do! Her arms fell beneath her, leaving her puddled and sobbing in unfamiliar hands even as they moved. Slowly, carefully, but too fast not to make her blurred vision swim and her head to loll once more.

“Link!” the shrieking voice was clearly another fairy; Bo groaned at the sound, piercing through her skill and into her bones. “What did I say about running off?!”

Gently one of the hands cradling Bo tipped, letting her fall limply until she was lying on only one. It was much kinder than any other motion from the day, but still pounded her head until she couldn’t breathe.

A moment passed, before the shrieking fairy came into view. Bo, she was ashamed to say, screwed tight her eyes shut so she couldn’t see the bright blue glow, couldn’t suffer the sharp pain it bought.

“Oh...” the new fairy did a bad job at whispering. “Are you- Link, is she alive?!”

Bo did her best to gesture, managing to move her hand a little. There was a small flurry of movement, then her shoes were being taken and her head kept carefully still as a tiny glass was put to her lips.

“Drink,” the other fairy ordered. “Link always says that drinking helps you feel better.”

Not really; all it made Bo do was burst into tears all over again.

“Sister!” the fairy grabbed her hands, moving her a little. “Come on, big sister, you need to drink!”

The cup was pressed into her face again, only for Bo to choke on the water - precious water which tasted of a great mother not her own.

The other fairy continued panicking, trying again.

This time it worked.

Bo could feel the blessing passing through her body, soothing pains and breaks from the jostling.

It, however, did nothing for her vision or her head.

“Better now?” the fairy chimed, more sweet than her use of the Hylian tongue. “I’m Proxi, who are you?”

Bo did her best to answer, but from the look on Proxi’s face, it was not making much sense. So she tried again and again, getting steadily more distressed as the confusion grew.

Finally, Proxi got there, “Bo! That’s a good name, right Link?” she did not pause for her companion to reply. “But, you’re not speaking good, are... are you okay?”

“Head hurts,” she replied.

Proxi looked more worried, tilting her head to the side, “could you speak a bit slower, I’m sorry, you’re all garbled! Like a fish!”

Bo did as she was told, slowing down every bit of it.

Proxi’s expression grew serious as Bo finished her words. Suddenly the other fairy was there, tilting Bo’s head. Tiny fingers found a bruise, sending an agonised scream from Bo’s lips. The hand they were sitting on clinched, and after a moment its owner began a fast job elsewhere.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Proxi really did mean it, panicked even though she was. “Link! Help! Her bruises have bruises!”

There was some more one-sided communication that Bo could not catch, until Proxi’s hands grabbed her arm, and tugged it over her shoulder.

“We’re going to go ride Link!” she explained, not making any sense. “Sorry if its dizzy, but there’s still a fight going on and we’ll be safe in his scarf. Link always looks after me, and he’ll look after you too! And we have other big sisters staying with us, too!”

Bo did not even have time to process the information, all of the words smushed together and impossible to unpick fast enough, before her side was grabbed and she was pulled into the air.

While Proxi’s path was steady, it threw Bo’s brain back into a horrible tailspin. Even the careful movement had her brain feel like it was being sloshed inside her skull, jelly wobbling harshly and slamming into the sides. Her vision grew increasingly distorted, the two images moving farther from one another, and her other injuries objected sharply. All around them the sounds of battle continued, smashing into Bo’s ears and making it feel like her brain was trying to explode.

It was only a couple of seconds before they landed on the soft blue of the scarf, Proxi tugging her upright. Bo did her best to land - it should have been easy, it should have, it should, it was perfectly folded for fairies to rest on - only for her feet to... somehow miss.

She scrambled for a moment, trying to regain her footing, only to somehow mistake down for up and up for down and end up slipping entirely off.

A scream tore through her ears, leaving a vague ringing behind it which distorted and warped the sound.

She was falling falling falling, tumbling and turning once again as she failed to ever direct her wings the correct way.

To Bo’s eternal surprise, it was stopped once again by a gloved hand. The screaming cut off as she landed hard, losing air again. As she gasped the hand moved slowly up to the level of the scarf, where a frantic Proxi grabbed her hands.

Bo could see that Proxi was talking as she tugged Bo towards her, trying to move her from the hand to the scarf. Bo did her best to follow the implied guidance, stumbling as her feet missed their spots and gave out beneath her.

Proxi spoke in a frantic tone as she helped, only worsening Bo’s headache; she stumbled again, this time falling entirely.

This time, a little magic came from Proxi’s hands, prodding at Bo’s own, trying to offer her strength to heal. While Bo’s body accepted it greedily, knowing itself hurt, it seemed... confused as to what to do with it.

Somehow, she made it from the hand to the scarf. The hand remained there, ready to catch her if she fell again.

Another two steps and she slipped once more, though Proxi managed to pull her forwards instead of her falling back.

She fell with an umph onto the soft fabric, head spinning and spinning and spinning, almost like the man on which she lay was swirling about himself.

Concerned hands touched her shoulders - Bo gasped as they caught her bruises. Quickly they moved away. A few moments later the sound of battle was dimmed once again, and the lights faded somewhat. Confused and hurting, Bo tried to look. Holding her not yet caught breath she twisted, only to find the scarf to have been folded over her face.

Instinctively she panicked, until small hands reached under the fold to grab her own.

“We’re safe now,” Proxi was saying. “Link’s got you. But your head must really hurt - I’ll give you more magic to try heal it, and you take a nap until the worst is past. Okay big sister?”

Bo did not need more permission to collapse. With the pounding headache she found it impossible to sleep, but it was easy for her eyes to shut down and her brain to spin. The muffled sounds of yelling and fights continued, Proxi returning to the sharp, grating Hylians as she called orders on behalf of her master. It pounded and roared, tearing up Bo’s mind and making it impossible to think.

And then, after an amount of time Bo could not comprehend, those large hands - no longer gloved - peeled the scarf aside.

The bright light of daytime assaulted her eyes, causing a grown and her vision, which had been calming, to snap back to its worse. Proxi looked worried as she and Link spoke about something, one hand replying to high-pitched words, before flying off.

Gently the hand unpicked Bo from the scarf. She whined as the safety was taken away, earning herself a chuckle. That hand was gentle, too, as it lowered her down, until she rested in a puddle of water.

Not a puddle - a fountain.

As a fairy of water she could not drown, and the waters of the great mothers - even absent ones, this one away fighting if she remembered rightly - helped even more than for their other-aligned kin. She heard a yell from Link and quick reassurances from Proxi as she shifted to the side - too much, not that she could tell - falling from the rock ledge she had been placed on and submerging herself entirely.

Finally, relief.

Bo’s head still pounded, noise and light still tore through it like sawdust, and she could still barely find her feet let alone put them down but here, floating in the magic-touched water, the pain finally dulled enough for her body to start healing, and for her mind to sleep.

#whumptober2022 #tossing and turning #dazed & confused #hyrule warriors #fanfic #HW Link #My fairy fairies #Proxi #hurt/comfort #angst #Bo... probably won't heal completely #her balance will be a mess for a long time #but the water will help her a lot #this whole thing having happened again...#link's going to start carrying great fairy water soon #just in case #I am getting even more tempted to rewrite all of these from his PoV #but eh #not for now

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pollylynn · 3 years ago

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Title: Character WC: 1100 Episode: Lucky Stiff (3 x 14)

She’s perplexed by her conversation with Martha. Well, first she’s blindsided, then she’s perplexed.

He leaves the two of them to chat while he goes off to change into something appropriate for the kind of club that has high-end dealers and grab the keys to a car he apparently drives so infrequently, she didn’t even know he owned it. Martha waits until she’s lost visual on him, though it’s not clear why. She asks her blindsiding question in the stage whisper she comes by honestly—You two going out on a date?

A blush races all along her skin. She feels the back of her neck positively blazing with heat where it presses against the wide curve of her faux fur collar. She pulls the coat close around her body, despite the uncomfortable warmth, acutely, uncomfortably aware of just how much of her skin is on display, poised to betray her, courtesy of the LBD beneath.

Oh, no! The stuttering denial is accompanied by an unconvincing laugh and, for some godforsaken reason, a follow-up that definitely sounds like a double entendre. Just doing a little undercover work.

She wrenches the subject away from herself and redirects it toward Martha, but she’s only half-listening at first. The jolt the question has given her subsides, and she finds she’s perplexed, because shouldn’t Martha know about Josh? The very existence of Josh negates the LBD and the tousled hair and the northern latitude of her hemline, preventing the evening, absolutely, from being a date. And shouldn’t Martha know that?

The question set sets off a second rush of blood to the surface of her skin, because what does she think—that he’s so obsessed with her that his mother gets nightly updates on her personal life? She writhes internally, first because the very idea occurred to her, and second because it might well be true.

Memory serves up the kiss for the one-thousandth time since it happened, and the intensity of it has not diminished one iota. Memory serves up the kiss, and she thinks there’’s a distinct chance that he’s cried on Martha’s shoulder out of guilt or longing or sheer embarrassment at just how dumb his dumb plan got.

By sheer force of will, she shakes herself out of memory’s grasp. She focuses her attention on Martha, who is, after all, going through something of far greater import than her own I-have-a-boyfriend drama. But that conversation is perplexing, too.

Martha is in free fall about the money. She’s taken the hard step to do the right thing, as she sees it, only to meet resistance from the children of the man whose heart she was about to break—children who know she was about to break it. She feels absolutely unworthy of Chet’s last gesture. She’s experiencing the money’s magnifying effect, and all she can see is her own flaws, her selfishness and petty fixations, rather than her ferocious love and fearless resilience.

To Kate, the solution seems so obvious. It seems like one he certainly should have presented to Martha, given that it was his stupidly insightful observation in the first place. But Josh seems to have company on the list of things he and his mother haven’t talked about.

She fights down a third embarrassed flush and metaphorically knocks their heads together. She quotes him in his own home—within earshot of him—and she wonders hw badly she’ll end up paying for that. She has visions of enduring smugness from him, but she speaks anyway. She says what needs saying: It just magnifies who you are. You cared about Chet . . .

Some of the misery flows out of Martha. Her spine straightens and she is so much more herself in the effusive, understated-for-Martha moment when she voices her thanks. Kate almost thanks her back. It’s almost an endless spiral of thanks, because she finds the moment of connection curiously, perplexingly poignant. She is, herself, grateful for the opportunity to help—to say the thing that needs saying.

He’s back before the two of them can get caught in the spiral. She almost expects the smug attack to start right away. She braces for him to spoil the moment, because she knows he was lurking there in the doorway. She knows he overheard. But he changes directions. He’s smug about the car. He’s over-the-top flirtatious about it, and she’s relieved. She’s grateful.

He is, too. He drops the smug the minute they’re out the door. He lags three steps behind her, when she is champing at the bit to get behind the wheel of that Ferrari. He trails slowly enough that she gets impatient. She whirls to face him, ready to snap, but the timid, searching look on his face pulls her up short.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “My mother . . . I just wanted to say thanks.”

He’s serious enough that it unnerves her. It perplexes her and she’s sure he’s poking fun. She’s sure that he’s about to, so she strikes first. “Not going to sue me for plagiarism?”

“No,” he laughs. “Not when you improved on the original.” He shakes his head. “She heard you. She wasn’t ready—or maybe just couldn’t—hear it from me.”

She gives him a nod, and that’s the end of it. It’s the end of actual conversation about it, but the idea stays with her—that it’s not just the things we hear, but who we hear it from. It sounds like nonsense, but she thinks it isn’t. She knows it is, and that’s what drives her to challenge him when the case is finally done—No more questions about my innermost jackpot dreams?

She wants to know. She wants him to tell her something about herself that she can only hear from him. She wants to be ready to hear it, whatever it his.

And he does not disappoint. He shows up on her doorstep. He pushes right into the apartment that, a week ago, he was too timid to enter without an offering of flowers—without asking where Josh was.

But there’s no mention of Josh this time. He pushes right in and announces who she is, what she would do, what she’ll be able to do with his help—you would use the money to honor your mother's legacy.

She tears up as the declaration settles on her, a truth about a dream she didn’t know she had until he said it—until he told her. She tears up, and she is grateful.

Thank you, That’s really sweet.

A/N: There is no morphousness to how others see us; Josh, it goes without saying, remains unseen and without morphousness

images via homeofthenutty

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 3 #Castle: Lucky Stiff #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Martha Rodgers #Josh Davidson #Fic #fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Writing #Tell Me More #Johanna Beckett

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ofdragonsdeep · 3 years ago

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11: Preaching to the Choir

None would have disagreed on the matter of Lord Haurchefant's virtues.

(HW spoilers, character death mention, grief, all that jazz)

The bitter chill of the Coerthas winds did little to salve the ache as Ar’telan walked the familiar path from the Gates of Judgement to Camp Dragonhead. A soft snowfall had set in with the evening, clouds crowding out the stars, and he rubbed his hands together for warmth as he went.

The guard on the gate straightened as Ar’telan approached, then relaxed as recognition set in. He was nodded in, no words spoken between them, but even in the flickering firelight of the meagre torch that marked his station, Ar’telan could see the red around his eyes.

The atmosphere was muted. Despite the ever-present threat, no knights milled about save for the guard up on the ramparts, and the courtyard was entirely free of the adventurers it usually gathered. Up by the aetheryte, there was only the silhouetted form of the foreign-born man who worked on the cannons without cease, and Inquisitor Brigie, leaning against the wall and staring out into the middle distance. She did not see him pass, and he was not keen to alert her, in the circumstances.

The heavy wood and iron doors to the keep opened with a scrape and creak of protest, and the few knights within looked up as he walked inside. Even now, weeks after it had happened, it felt like a twist of the heart to look at the empty chair on the other side of the desk.

“Ar’telan. It’s… it’s good to see you,” Yaelle remarked, offering a weak smile, one of the more genuine ones he had seen of late. Corentiaux rubbed the back of his hand against his eyes, gathering himself.

“We wondered when we might see you here. Are… are you staying long?” he asked. Ar’telan sighed.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” he replied, which felt pathetic in the moment. A young astrologian deviated from the stacks of records to pull out a chair for him without a word, and he sat in it haltingly, afraid of appearing rude. “I wouldn’t want to- to impose. After…” Yaelle shook her head.

“You will always be welcome here. It’s what- what he would have wanted,” she remarked, her voice remarkably level across it all. Ar’telan took a deep breath, and held in the sadness. He was here now. He had waited - no, he had come here as soon as the chase against King Thordan had allowed, but he had left soon after, not able to stand it. He had waited until the dust had settled on that part of the war, until he had felt like there had been some kind of recompense, until he could bear to look the people of the camp in the eye and not collapse under the weight of the guilt of it all.

“We won’t turn you out into the snow. Make yourself at home,” Corentiaux agreed. “You have missed mess, I will allow, but there will be something in the pot for you.” Ar’telan swallowed back the grief.

“Thank you. I… I will try not to intrude,” he managed, feeling the weight of his reasons in the pack he carried. If they wanted to see it, he would let them do it on their own terms, not ones that might soothe his wounds.

As if anything could have soothed them.

---

The young roegadyn woman who was a cheerful constant of the mess hall looked up with a spectre of panic on her face as the door opened. She had been reserved when Ar’telan had first spoken to her, but over the moons she had opened up, her heart boundless in its love. She was… not coping well.

“Ar’telan. The knights didn’t… oh, I’m so sorry, I haven’t…” she tried, before choking back a sob and turning to hide it in the pot on the stove. “Y-you must be hungry. I-I’ll make you something.” Ar’telan tried to disagree, pained by her distress, but she had so lost herself in the busywork of it that she saw none of his desperate hand signs. Resigned, he eased himself onto the edge of one of the benches, elbows on the table and head resting on his hands. They had always taken care of him at Camp Dragonhead, the way they took care of anyone in need who passed through their walls. It was a kindness that permeated every brick, every cobblestone, a smile easy on the face when your spirits were buoyed. They did it now in reflex, stumbling in uncertainty through every day that greeted them. Ar’telan couldn’t help but think back to the days before. He had been there for the internment of knights his healing arts had not been able to save, he had been cheered and encouraged and warmed by the fire that lit every soul within, from the boy who swept the stables to the loftiest knight.

It had hurt, to see knights he had broken bread with that morning in a coffin by the dusk. He had watched the lines of stoic soldiers, some weeping into the shoulders of their fellows as the bodies of their friends were borne past, towards Ishgard. None of it could have prepared him for the grip of the all-consuming grief that lay like a pall over Dragonhead’s heart. Glassy eyes that stared at nothingness, a soul walking with the Fury instead of among the living. And for what? A war without end for the dragons that Nidhogg had driven to madness with his incessant Song, the sins of long-forgotten fathers carved out into the hides of the sons. To bear home the news of the great wyrm’s death, a tragedy of man’s design, and be greeted with a refusal… a refusal to yield.

By Ishgardian hands, by Ishgardian blood. What was it worth?

“Here. I h-hope it’s still good,” Medguistl said, startling Ar’telan from his reverie.

“It will be fine. My thanks,” he said, taking the proffered bowl and setting it down on the table before him. She sat down opposite him, seeming to fold into the table under the weight of her own thoughts.

“It’s not fair,” she said, her voice muffled by wood and her arms. “All those h-horrible people and it had, it h-had to be him.” Ar’telan flinched at her words, staring down at the stew in front of him rather than offer an answer she would not be able to see. “After everything that happened, all the kind things he said, I can’t… I can’t imagine that I’ll never see his smile again. Nobody wants to talk about it. We can’t. It just… it hurts.” She sniffled, looking up at him with an apologetic look on her face. “I-I’m sorry. I-I think this is the last thing you need, t-today of all days. B-but…”

“You are allowed to grieve,” Ar’telan disagreed, the words weaving around the spoon he was holding. “Pretending that it doesn’t hurt won’t make it go away.” He bit his lip uncertainly, sharp canines finding the scar that traced down the side of it. “He would be flattered that he had… touched so many so deeply. Though I think he would rather you held a little cheer, when you can.” Medguistl nodded, sniffing back the rest of the tears.

“Th-thank you,” she said. “I know that we’ll… we’ll carry the memory forever. So maybe… maybe in a way he won’t be truly gone.” Ar’telan wished that it was in a way which mattered, but did not voice the sadness aloud.

“I owe my life to him. To all of you here, as well. So if there is anything I can do…” he began, but the chef shook her head, straightening up.

“You can eat, is what you can do, and maybe we’ll think about the rest afterwards,” she said, and Ar’telan wearily complied.

---

The trek up to Providence Point, lit now by the light of the morning, was made no easier despite the absence of the aevises that had once plagued the trail. The ruin of the Steel Vigil stretched up to greet the day, snow and crumbling rock falling from the edifice at the slightest wind, and to the west, the crest of the hill.

He had come up here before, many times. Not all of them with Haurchefant, but many of them. They had stood before the stone that bore the seal of Oschon, the Wanderer, and Ar’telan had wondered at its presence in a land which clung so stubbornly in place. Beyond the piled stones, the crest of the cliff offered a crystal-clear view of Ishgard and the Steps of Faith, the best place to observe her beauty from save for within the walls of the city herself.

The headstone was small, and unobtrusive. Snow had already settled atop it, a faint dusting of white to match that which plagued the entire land since the Calamity had struck. Ar’telan knelt down beside it, brushed his fingers over the name.

Haurchefant Greystone.

Though they had buried his body in the Fortemps family crypt, in his public monument he could not bear the name. It was so like Ishgard, a place so comfortingly familiar that he had almost felt sure in calling it home. As if Hydaelyn would have let him rest, when he still had work to do.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” said a familiar voice. Francel, the first truly kind person he had met in this frozen hellscape of a place after the massacre at the Waking Sands. “Though I suppose it should not be a surprise, should it?” He closed the distance between them, joining Ar’telan in kneeling down in the snow. In his hands, a bouquet of Nymeia lilies, of the kind of freshness only the son of a High House could afford. Ar’telan had laid them upon coffins before, but here Francel simply rested them on top of the snow, tears already beading at the corner of his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Ar’telan said, and Francel shook his head, rubbing the treacherous tears away with delicate fingers.

“No, no. You shouldn’t be,” he said. “He… he would be glad that you’d come. He always… always loved the view up here.” Ar’telan held his tongue on the memories, instead pulling the heavy pack from his back, and gently teasing the shield free from the canvas he had wrapped it in.

All the knights at the Camp had one like it. They adorned the walls of the keep, of the manor at House Fortemps, the arms of every person pledged to the house’s service. The gaping hole in this one, rent by a lance of pure aetherial light, was one he hoped the other shields would never see.

“The Count gave you this?” Francel asked, though he didn’t sound surprised. Ar’telan nodded, reaching out to rest it against the stone of the grave. If it could not protect him in life, it would at least watch him in death. “I’m glad. It’s… you should have had it,” Francel said, the words stiff and awkward in his mouth. “It never gets any easier, does it?” he asked, eyes on the city beyond the rise, across the void of wind that made the Sea of Clouds.

“No,” Ar’telan agreed, sitting back in the snow. “Different, maybe. But never easier.” Francel let out a long, low sigh.

“You will come back, won’t you?” he asked, a tremulous note to his voice. “To Ishgard. To us.” Ar’telan looked over in surprise at the question.

“If I am welcome,” he said, and Francel let out a single, disbelieving laugh.

“Welcome? Of course you are welcome. You helped to save us,” he said, shaking his head slightly at the idea. “All of us are hurting now, every one, but we would never turn you away. Not ever.” His eyes went back to the grave, his gaze lingering on the shield’s mortal wound. “I know you would never leave him behind, and he would not want you to. But I dont… I don’t want to bear this alone.” Ar’telan offered a smile.

“You are not alone. There is not a soul in the Highlands who does not know of Haurchefant’s grace,” he said, and Francel flopped backwards into a sitting position, as if actually hearing his name was a little too much.

“Have you spoken with the Count de Fortemps?” he asked. “After… After it all, I mean. When it wasn’t… When it wasn’t all too much.” Ar’telan sighed.

“Yes. I… I know he would not want me to leave,” he said, the first time he had voiced it aloud. “He said as much, but it is hard to believe it. Hard to let go of the feeling that I… That Haurchefant…”

“You will always have a home here,” Francel said, his voice quiet. “I would make sure of it, but I do not need to. Stay strong, my friend. Perhaps the grief will not fade, but the road will feel easier to walk in stride with another.” Ar’telan smiled slightly at the thought, his tail carving a little eddy in the snow as it swept from side to side.

“I would like that,” he agreed. It hurt, more than anything had a right to hurt, still aching as though Ser Zephirin’s lance had pierced his heart instead, but for the future - there was hope.

#We lasted two whole days and that is a record #ffxivwrite2021 #ff14 #m!WoLxHaurchefant #HW spoilers #If I'm not over it like five years later then nobody else gets to be either #Warrior of Light (solo story)#ps Francel is baby and I would die for him

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adhd-for-adhders · 4 years ago

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Tips for Working with ADHD During Online School (or Work)!

This is really late and I don’t really know why I didn't do this earlier, but here we are! I thought I’d publish a list of tips and tricks that have helped me while doing school online - mostly long homework sessions - (and might help with online working). Even though it is the summer, some people are still working or doing summer school, so I hope this helps someone who needs it!

Get everything you’ll need or even the stuff you might need. It saves you from having to get up if you’re on a roll and breaking your streak (or maybe you find you can’t get up to get it bc ~executive dysfunction~)

If you find you don’t have something you need and it’s not pressing, wait until a pause or you’re getting up anyways, ie you’re getting up to fill your water bottle and you’re gonna need your phone charger. Take that time to go to the bathroom, get a snack, etc. I find this the best way to get around executive dysfunction because I didn’t want to get up for that one small thing earlier, but now I’m up for something else and I can kinda justify my other tasks, in a way? It’s like, I get up, and I'm like “well I'm already getting water, might as well just grab a snack and my phone charger too”

I’m terrible at prioritizing, so I try to prioritize the most obvious assignments first. You have one assignment due at 3 and another at 6? Do the 3 pm deadline first. You have a certain class that you have more missing assignments in than another? Do that homework first. If you can’t prioritize, try to think of the most logical order.

I usually do all my assignments for one class in a block because I get on a roll. Like, my brain is thinking in chemistry or whatever, so I knock out all my chem assignments at one time (this has to do with ADHD brains not being very good at jumping from task to task).

I started planning heavy hw days on google calendar. For example, I just list all the assignments I have to do and what time to do them and calendar will give me a little notification 10 and 5 minutes before a new task starts (this also helps me keep track of how time is passing because adhd brains aren’t too great at that either). Tip: give yourself much more time than you think you need—I usually give an hour unless it’s a super short assignment. Even if you’re 100% sure that you’ll finish it in under an hour, give yourself an hour and you feel a sense of accomplishment (and get a lil dopamine boost—we tend to be short on that too) because you finished something earlier than expected and you get ahead of schedule (which, if you finish before you plan on, will also give you a dopamine boost at the end).

Keep a bottle of water near you and a snack or two if you want. I need my meds to stay focused on my assignments for longer than an hour or so and it drastically improves my executive function (this is specifically for me, I don't know how meds work for everyone else). But the side effects of all three different types of meds I’ve taken have all come up/been worse when I don’t drink enough water. Also it’s just good for you. My meds kill my appetite, so I don’t need snacks, but if you get hungry, go for it.

Most of the time, I like having someone or a list giving me explicit instructions, kind of like a checklist I can check off. So even if you don’t use a calendar, I suggest putting your assignments in a numbered or bulleted list and then you can just check them off as you move down the list. It also tells me what to do next, because I’ll just do whatever I feel like doing most of the time and a list gives me direction. (Also, having one central list helps me keep everything in one place so I don’t have to go hunting through each of my class schedules for all my class assignments)

I have a little calendar chart for the week I created on google docs and there I list what assignments are due on which days of the week that I fill out on Monday. Once I fill it out, I spread out the assignments over the week (because a good 75% of them are due on Friday) so I have around 4 assignments due each day (which generally takes me from 9 or 10 to anywhere from 3 to 5. Even then I’ll usually not have enough work to spread over 5 days (because most of my teachers aren’t pure evil) so I’ll sprinkle in some of my many missing assignments in there on the lighter days. Also, it prevents me from only doing one or two assignments for a few days and then realizing that to not have any late work, I’ll have to complete 5 in one day (that’s happened before. It was extremely stressful and I didn't finish all my assignments. 0/10 do not recommend).

Take plenty of little breaks. We’ll get mentally tired from hours straight of just doing schoolwork (I’m not 100% sure if this is an adhd thing so don’t quote me on it but I’m pretty sure) so take a 15-30 minute break every few hours or assignments, maybe 20 minutes every 1.5 hours or after you finish two assignments or whatever works for you. Read a few chapters of your book, watch an episode of your favorite show, or make some food and scroll mindlessly through tumblr, whatever makes you happy. Just plan them ahead so you don’t get sucked in to doing 3, 4, 5 hours of work nonstop by setting an alarm for a specific time or putting it on your calendar.

Have a special place to do your work. I can't speak for everyone, but a lot of my motivation comes from habits, so I’ll do work (and only work) at my desk and not in my chair or bed or whatever (even though it’s way more comfortable) so when I sit down my brains like “ok it’s time to work I gotchu”

Not necessarily for working, but for zoom calls: get your favorite stim to use during those. A lot of teachers will ramble on and on and I’ve gotten so fidgety during these calls its really noticeable (aka, you can literally see me trying to crack my neck/back/fingers every five seconds) so I’ve taken to having some scissors and one of my many balls of yarn on my desk so I can start braiding or fingerknitting some yarn while my teachers ramble.

Sidenote: fingerknitting is a really great stim (for me, at least) because it requires basic, repetitive motions that don’t require me to look at my fingers. I once read like 14 (?) scenes of Shakespeare almost all in a row and I swear, I was only able to do that because of the fingerknitting. It’s super simple and you could probably find dozens of short tutorials on youtube.

I'm pretty sure this is only a mac thing, but on my computer, I have it set to announce the time on the hour, every hour and I find it helps with my complete time blindness and helps me not get sucked into doing a 1 hour project for 2 hours. Also if i'm working on a project that’s taking longer than expected and I have a zoom call at, say, 11, then the computer will break me out of my homework trance and I’ll realize what time it is (if that makes sense) and it’s prevented me from being late to a zoom many times. To get your macbook to do this, you go to the desktop —> settings —> date and time —> and then click “announce the time”, and you can choose whether you want it to announce it every hour, half an hour, or fifteen minutes.

Feel free to add your own! Happy studying/working!

#actually adhd #ADHD tips and tricks #adhd #ADHD Strategies #online learning

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quicksilversquared · 5 years ago

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The Babysitting Fiasco

Alya and Nino aren't actually supposed to be pushing off their babysitting duties onto Marinette in favor of going on extra dates, but try telling them that. But after a poorly-timed akuma attack and a chance encounter set off a domino effect...well, they couldn't get away with it forever.

inspired by @zoe-oneesama‘s fantastic babysitting salt posts from...er, several months ago.

links in the reblog

Marinette took one glance at the clock as she headed for the stairs of the Grand Paris and groaned. She had hoped when the akuma of the day had popped up that they would be able to defeat it quickly so that she could get back to her normal work again, but no such luck. Instead, the akuma had taken longer than usual to defeat, and now there was absolutely no way that she could babysit for Alya and Nino and finish the homework that she needed done the next day, not unless she stayed up late to work on it and she really didn't want to do that again.

On top of all of that, her phone was dead, so she couldn't text Alya and let her know right now. By the time she ran home and got her charger, it would be practically time for Marinette to be over at Alya's house to take over watching the three kids. It would be too late for Alya to find someone else to babysit so that she and Nino could go out, and then they would be irritated with Marinette again.

Groaning more, Marinette picked up the pace. Maybe she would have to drop by Alya's apartment to let her know in person instead of texting- that might be faster, actually- but what if Alya wasn't there because she was out after chasing the akuma for the Ladyblog? Or what if Alya thanked her for coming and ran off before Marinette got the chance to say anything? She couldn't afford to turn in any more assignments late, and it wasn't smart to be running low on sleep, not when Marinette had to be alert and quick-thinking when battling akumas. No, she would have to go home and maybe use her mom's phone to text Alya first, and she would just have to deal with her best friend's annoyance later, but at least Marinette would be able to get her homework done and not fail and get grounded for a dozen years and-

"Hi, Marinette!"

Marinette skidded to a stop and turned around to see Alya's mom standing there by the stairwell door, apparently on her break. It took a second for that to sink in, and then Marinette perked up. Perfect! For once, her Ladybug luck was kicking in."Madam Césaire! Hi! You're, like, just the perfect person for me to run into right now!"

Madam Césaire laughed. "The perfect person? And why is that?"

"Alya asked yesterday if I could babysit for her and Nino again tonight and I said yes but I just realized that I really can't because I'm super crazy behind on my homework and I would text her but my phone is dead and by the time I get home, it'll be really late to let them know-" Marinette took a deep breath and finished- "so do you think that you could text her? I'll text her myself when I get my phone a bit charged, too, but I don't want to leave her hanging."

Madam Césaire considered Marinette's phone as she waved it in the air. "Actually, I can give you my phone charger so that you can text her yourself. I've got it right here, actually- my phone can finish charging later. Just give it to one of the wait staff and tell them it's mine once you're done."

Marinette perked up. "Oh, that's even better! Thank you, Madam Césaire!"

"It's no problem at all." Madam Césaire handed Marinette the charger with a smile. "I've got to go, but it was nice talking to you, Marinette."

Marinette waved good-bye, then went to go find an outlet to plug in her phone. It didn't take long for her phone to charge up enough for her to turn it on and open her messages.

Marinette: I'm so so so sorry but I can't babysit tonight! I'm REALLY behind on my homework and I know that I wouldn't be able to get it done with the twins and Chris running around! :( :( :(

It didn't take long to get a response. Marinette winced before opening it.

Alya: boo HW! You're always behind, aren't you? No worries, though, we got someone else to accept last-minute. Go catch up so that you can actually babysit next time!

Marinette cringed at that. She was always behind on homework, but it wasn't exactly her fault. She was a full-time superhero so she had less time to start with, and then when she missed class then she had to learn the material on her own, which could be hard sometimes. Alya and Nino were only part-time superheroes, so they weren't getting their normal lives interrupted anywhere near as often. They had plenty of free time. Marinette did not.

...Marinette also had a really hard saying no, which was why this kept happening in the first place.

Marinette: OK I'm glad that things worked out! Say hi to the girls and Chris for me!

With that sent, Marinette unplugged her phone and pushed herself up off the floor. She didn't have any time to waste, really. There were several assignments and papers that she had to get done tonight, and then she had to start getting ahead on her homework again so she wouldn't be scrambling to finish last minute.

Sometimes being a superhero really stunk.

Marlena Césaire had been having a relatively normal day. It was a typical weekday workday at the hotel, with only a handful of hotel guests having lunch in-house and maybe twice that number of off-the-street customers. Then there was a slight lull before dinner where all of the chefs could get some prep work done, and Marlena took advantage of the calm to duck out and take her break. She always did a bit of reading on her break and grabbed a snack, relaxing before the madness that was dinner rush and checking in with her kids to make sure that they were all right.

She had to hope that Otis would have a better work schedule soon. As head chef at the Grand Paris, she had to work most evenings so that the kitchen would run smoothly, and at the moment her husband had to work one evening a week and be on-call two other evenings. That meant that at least one evening per week the kids were home alone and Nora and Alya had to split babysitting duties, which wasn't entirely ideal. It did give them some feel for responsibility, which was good, but Nora had more and more commitments as she grew older and it wasn't fair to hold her back, and Alya had homework to do and it was easier to finish if she wasn't trying to keep Ella and Etta in line.

The phone call home went smoothly, and as her break came to an end she was feeling good about the evening. Alya had things under control at home, and she could focus on making the hotel kitchen run smoothly.

And then Alya's friend Marinette went zipping by, and after a quick exchange Marlena was left reeling. Alya had been having Marinette do her babysitting for her? More specifically, she had been having Marinette do babysitting for her and Nino, all without asking their parents first? This was the first time Marlena had heard of the arrangement.

Marlena liked knowing exactly what was going on at home and who was watching her girls. She liked knowing where her daughters were. Nora could come and go as she pleased- she was old enough, after all- but Alya needed to tell her parents where she was. And she wasn't.

(On top of that, somehow Marlena doubted that Alya and Nino were paying Marinette for babysitting for them, and considering that Alya at least was getting a significant bonus to her allowance for babysitting- well, that just wasn't right.)

She Was Not Happy.

Alya was taking advantage of being home alone with the twins to go on secret dates with Nino, that much was clear. And she was taking advantage of her friends in order to do that. Marinette had seemed quite frantic when she dashed by, and it wasn't okay for Alya to be asking her friends to babysit when they were struggling to keep up with their homework, even if she had asked her parents for permission first.

So now she had to decide what to do. Marinette clearly hadn't realized that she had told on Alya, so Marlena could catch her daughter red-handed. If she got off early tonight- which was possible, she could ask her second-in-command to take over because of a family emergency- she could get home early and see if Alya was gone.

Which she would be, Marlena knew. When Marinette sent her phone charger back in with a server, she had also passed along the message that a different friend- Alya hadn't said who- would be babysitting instead. That was very, very useful information, though also worrying.

Marlena had met Marinette before and seen her with kids. She was trustworthy, if perhaps a little easily overwhelmed. But she didn't know anything about this other person. Who knew if they were trustworthy or could deal well with children?

So Marlena went to her second-in-command and told him that she would have to leave a couple hours early, timed so that Alya would most certainly be out with Nino and not yet back. It was unfortunate and not a habit that she wanted to get into- she needed to take her duties as head chef responsibly, after all- but it was a bit of a family emergency.

So a couple hours earlier than usual, Marlena clocked out and headed home. Her apartment door swung open to reveal three wide-eyed kids listening to a girl who Marlena had most certainly never met before, who was in the middle of telling them about how she had saved a whole train's worth of people on an amusement park ride in London after a safety feature on the ride broke.

...yeah, that sounded perfectly believable. Not. Marlena raised an eyebrow and let the door click shut loudly.

The voices in the other room abruptly cut off and four pairs of eyes swung towards her. Ella and Etta lit up at once, jumping up and running over to her for hugs. Chris waved. The stranger babysitter turned pale.

Interesting. Did she perhaps know that Alya wasn't supposed to be having her friends babysit for her? It was strange that Marinette didn't, then.

"Madam Césaire! Hi, I'm Lila Rossi, Alya's friend," the girl said, recovering and hopping up to greet her. "She didn't tell me that you would be returning early tonight!"

"And Alya didn't tell me that she was having her friends babysit for her," Marlena said, ignoring the girl's hand for the moment. Something about this girl wasn't sitting right with her. Maybe it was the lie that she had overheard as she came in, maybe it was Lila's reaction to seeing Marlena, maybe it was-

Wait.

Lila Rossi? Marlena remembered Alya talking about this girl, actually. There had been some really questionable stories that Alya had conveyed, and Marlena had assumed that the clearly unbelievable details were mostly thanks to Alya's tendency to embellish and exaggerate. Now, though...

It seemed that Alya was probably relaying the stories pretty much as told, and the problem lay with the initial teller of the (clearly untrue) tales. The initial teller, who had apparently been trusted to watch children.

Lila clutched at her shirt and sighed dramatically. After cooking for actors both established and aspiring for years, Marlena could recognize acting when she saw it, and this girl was most certainly making up a story on the spot. "Yes, well, it was just the once- apparently Alya and Nino had reservations at this restaurant nearby that they really wanted to go to but the staff messed up on their reservation date and put it today rather than on the weekend, and they either had to give up the reservation or get a substitute sitter and they had so been looking forward to it, so of course I offered to step in. They must have forgotten to tell you! School's been so busy lately, so of course that's understandable."

Marinette had said something about babysitting again. Lila was claiming that this was a one-time thing and that she had been lined up to help out ages in advance. They were completely contradictory claims.

Marlena knew who she believed, and it wasn't the girl in front of her. Just in case, though, she would be asking the kids in front of her once Lila was gone.

"Well, thank you for coming in," Marlena said rather than arguing with this girl. If she was right and Lila was a liar- which was pretty obvious, honestly, Marlena dealt with celebrity clients on a near-daily basis and she knew that they wouldn't be falling over themselves to give favors to some 14-year-old girl that they had met once, and ambassadors weren't going to be meeting up with all sorts of celebrities anyway- then there would be no point in arguing. "I can take care of the kids now. Alya can pay you whatever she's promised at school in the morning."

"Oh, no pay needed!" Lila said cheerfully. "I volunteered to do it. I love working with kids- I volunteered a bunch of time at an orphanage when I was in Africa for a summer as part of my charity organization for disadvantaged kids."

...well, that explained why Alya thought that this Lila character was an acceptable emergency babysitter.

"That's very nice," Marlena said politely. "Do you need to call someone for pickup?"

Lila shook her head. "No, I'll take the bus. It's not that late yet. Bye-bye, guys!" she called, waving to the three kids. "Good night!"

"Bye, Lila!"

And with one last wave, Lila was out the door. Marlena waited for a minute to make sure that she wasn't coming back, and then she turned to the kids.

"All right," Marlena said, placing her hands on her hips and surveying the three of them. "I have some questions for you three, and I'd like some answers."

By the time Nino and Alya returned (far too late for collège students to be out, especially without their parents' knowledge), Marlena had interrogated the younger kids and found out that Alya had been going out with Nino instead of babysitting every week, and Lila had babysat for her three times in total, not just the once. Marinette had done all of the other times, including some times when the twins were with Nora but Marinette had babysat Chris for Nino, or when Chris was at home with his parents but the twins were with Marinette.

She suspected, based off of what Lila had said, that Marinette had been paid for exactly zero of that. That would be coming out of Alya's allowance so that Marinette would actually be compensated for the not insignificant amount of time that she had spent roped into babysitting.

Marlena had called up Otis to let him know what was going on, and he had come home early, too. Then she called up Nino's parents. Just as she had suspected, they had thought that their two sons were at home, not over at the Césaire apartment, and they were none too happy to find out that Nino had been sneaking out behind their backs.

Twenty minutes before Otis would have normally returned home, Marlena heard Alya's keys turn in the lock. She and Otis exchanged a look, sitting up at the table and fixing the door with a stern stare.

Alya and Nino stepped in, heads together as they laughed about something. They were clearly absorbed with each other, so Marlena cleared her throat pointedly. Their heads whipped towards her at once, and she had the great pleasure of watching the blood drain from their faces.

"You two were meant to be babysitting separately tonight," Otis started sternly. "Each at your own homes. Instead, you had a friend that we hadn't ever met watching all three kids. Explain yourselves. Now."

Marinette came into school feeling really good. The homework that she had to get done hadn't taken her quite as long as she had expected (though she still wouldn't have been able to get it done if she had been babysitting), so she had gone ahead and gotten ahead on a couple other assignments, knocking out most of an essay and doing some research for her Civics class. It put her in a pretty good position, and she had even gotten to go to bed on time for the first time in nearly a week.

So she was well-rested, caught up, and relaxed. Marinette had plans to continue her work over lunch, since she was on a roll with both research and her essay, and then maybe she could actually be able to do some designing for the first time in-

In-

Well, she had done some sketching between classes, sure, but she hadn't gotten to sit down and design for a while. Things had just been too busy.

Marinette was not expecting Alya to storm in, looking miserable and upset and a little bit angry. She slammed down into her seat, scowling.

"Someone must have ratted me and Nino out to my parents!"

...pardon?

"What?"

Alya's face was red. "I got home last night and my parents were already home and they were furious that I had been going out on dates with Nino and having other people babysit for us- well, having you and Lila babysit, at least- without telling them, and now I'm grounded and not allowed to go on any dates with Nino for at least a month and I'm having my allowance chopped- and when I was so close to saving up for a new camera for reporting, too- and there's no way that they just happened to come home early!"

Marinette's gut twisted as she absorbed that onslaught of information. She knew exactly how Madam Césaire found out about Alya's stand-in babysitters, and she felt so, so guilty about it. But she- she hadn't known! It had been reasonable to assume that Alya and Nino's parents knew about their dates and substitute babysitters, right? The two of them had been going out and staying out past dark, and if Marinette were in their shoes, her parents would definitely know what she was up to. They'd be super upset about her going behind their back to do stuff.

(Superhero activities excluded, of course.)

And Alya had definitely never told Marinette that her parents didn't know about the whole arrangement.

"Like, we've been doing this just fine for months, and we've been getting back a good half-hour before my dad gets off to be safe, just like Lila suggested," Alya continued, and Marinette frowned. Lila had suggested it? Lila hadn't even been at school when Nino and Alya started shirking their babysitting duties to go out on dates. "And we bribe the girls and Chris not to mention having a different babysitter with extra dessert. And then all of a sudden, this happens."

"You were coming back before your parents even before Lila got back to Paris," Marinette pointed out, frowning. "And at the same time, too."

Alya snorted, waving that off. "Text messages exist, silly. I was in contact with Lila the entire time she was traveling, because I wanted to hear about all of the cool stuff she was up to! When I told her about having to babysit and not getting to have enough dates with Nino, she suggested that I just ask someone else to babysit. And I knew my parents wouldn't approve, so that was when she suggested giving ourselves plenty of buffer time." Alya sighed. "It worked really well! Until yesterday. I can't believe it! We got betrayed!"

Nino slid into the seat in front of Alya. He looked exhausted, too. "Babe, I told you before, it might just have been really bad timing. Maybe it was a slow night at the Grand Paris and your mom decided to come home early. I've been around your place enough to hear her saying that she'd like to be at home with you guys more."

Alya slumped in her seat. "Maybe. But Lila said that she told my mom that it was just the once and she made an excuse for us, but mom seemed to know that there had been a lot of times."

"She might have asked the kids directly, and they probably told her everything," Nino countered. "Seriously, Al. No one told on us."

Marinette swallowed hard as Nino patted Alya's hand comfortingly. She still looked like a stormcloud, and was unlikely to calm down soon. Lila came in then, going straight to Alya and immediately lamenting about what had happened the previous night. Marinette tuned her out, feeling dread twisting in her gut.

She really should admit to accidentally telling Madam Césaire, but Alya was clearly furious about her bonus dates coming to an end and all of the associated punishments that came with her parents finding out. On top of that, she and Marinette had been going through some rough spots lately because Marinette still refused to accept Lila and Alya refused to entertain the idea that Lila was a liar. Marinette didn't want to admit to her mistake only for Alya to give her the cold shoulder for who-knew-how-long.

The rock sat in Marinette's stomach all morning as Alya stewed next to her. She hadn't- she hadn't known, she hadn't meant for this to happen, she just wanted to make sure that Alya knew that she couldn't do the babysitting with enough time to find someone else. Marinette had tried to do the responsible thing, and it had backfired.

She should do the responsible thing and 'fess up, too. But Marinette was scared.

"You seem distracted, love," Mrs. Cheng commented as Marinette picked at her lunch listlessly. "Anything that you want to talk about?"

Marinette considered it and then decided that yeah, she definitely needed to talk to her mom. It would help to have a second opinion. So she started explaining. Partway through, her dad came up to eat, too, and paused to listen in, leaning on the counter as he ate.

"I know I should tell her," Marinette finished miserably. "But..."

"Well, if you want my opinion- normally I would say yes, you need to tell Alya," Mr. Dupain said, exchanging a look with Mrs. Cheng, and Marinette wilted. "But not in this case, unless Alya admits that she was in the wrong for not telling you that she didn't have her parents' permission first. From what you're telling me, it sounds like she and Nino are ignoring that they put themselves in that position. She would blame her punishment entirely on you and that isn't fair."

Marinette blinked in surprise and looked to her mom. Mrs. Cheng was nodding, too.

"I wouldn't have been comfortable with you doing babysitting for Alya and Nino if we had known that her parents didn't approve," Mrs. Cheng told Marinette. "And frankly, I was going to say something about it soon. We've noticed that you've seemed pretty stretched thin lately and picking up unpaid babysitting definitely wasn't helping."

"And Alya knows that you have trouble saying no," Mr. Dupain added. "And it sounds like they took advantage of that. And they took advantage of it quite a bit."

Marinette paused, then nodded because they were right. She had been more stressed every time that her friends begged her to babysit because they 'so wanted to go on this cool date'. She didn't want to disappoint them, so she accepted unless she really couldn't spare any time.

"This will teach them a lesson about honesty, hopefully," Mrs. Cheng added. "And it might help the two of them take a step back and realize that they've been neglecting other things in favor of their relationship. For example, their friendship with you. True friends shouldn't take advantage of each other like they did to you, and they should have noticed that the added responsibility was stressing you out."

"And they also need to realize that going on dates was not more important than their responsibilities," Mr. Dupain added. "If they wanted to do some extra dates, then they should have asked their parents first, then made sure that you had time to spare. But from what I've heard, they got one date a week normally anyway, which is plenty at your age."

"But what if Alya finds out later and gets mad at me then for not telling her?" Marinette asked anxiously. She could see where her parents were coming from- Alya had lied by omission first- but she just wanted to cover every possibility.

"Well, hopefully by then she would have cooled off a bit," Mrs. Cheng told her. "And will be more open to admitting that she should have been upfront with you in the first place." She leaned across the counter, placing her hands on Marinette's shoulders. "I know that we've raised you to always be responsible and honest. But you shouldn't be taking the responsibility of everyone else's mistakes on top of your own. It's important to recognize when you did something wrong versus, say..."

"Versus when someone overreacts or they put you in a bad position in the first place," Mr. Dupain finished. "In this case, it's the latter." He smiled at Marinette. "It's a good lesson to learn, at least."

Marinette nodded. Her parents' words made her feel a lot better. "Yeah."

"And if you're busy or just need time to do your own things, it's always okay to say no. Even to your friends. And even to us and Madam Chamack," Mrs. Cheng added. "We don't want you to get overwhelmed and be sacrificing sleep or having your schoolwork suffer. That's your primary responsibility right now. Okay?"

Marinette smiled. School and sleep and saving Paris from supervillains, actually, but she couldn't let her parents know about that second part. Not until Hawkmoth was defeated, at least. "Okay."

"We're proud of you for coming to us with this," Mr. Dupain said, resting a hand on Marinette's shoulder. "We know that you want to help others as much as you can, but you have to remember to save some of that time and energy for Marinette, too. You can't help others as much if you're too worn out and spread thin and not taking care of yourself. It's okay to tell other people that they're putting too much pressure on you and to enforce your boundaries when they try to push or claim that something will be just the once. Looking after yourself will never be selfish, even if other people try to frame it that way. And if you ever need help yourself, it is more than okay to ask for it. You've given a lot to people around you, and helping is hardly a one-way street."

That was good for her to hear, Marinette thought as she burrowed into her parents' hug. Lately, sometimes taking time for herself had felt selfish somehow, even though she knew better. There was a lot of pressure on her to do the best in everything that she took on (and everything she was forced to take on), but even if she sometimes had superpowers, she was only human underneath it all. She would get overwhelmed and make mistakes and forget things, and that was okay.

She could finally breathe again.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #marinette dupain cheng #ft. some actual good advice #and parents actually behaving like parents

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retrorealeyes · 4 years ago

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stomachache

sdfjsdkfhsk I don’t know what this is going to be. I quit twitter so I could stop being addicted and do better in school but nooooo I need attention/my words in the public eye

I have a fucking headache, fucking stomache overall I’m not doing well. (this maybe because I woke up 3 hours ago and I still haven’t eaten because i’m avoiding mother you will see below)

“Why?”

Because my mom saw my BEN SHAPIRO RAPE ART. (to clarify it was post rape or whatevr idk if it even implied rape, but there were naked people,no sex but it was implied to be about sex and not like “anotomy” or something so I cna’t play it off)

“What?” or maybe even “WHAAAAAAAT?????!!!”

Basically it was a joke with a twitter friend, I made of my own accord randomly. Lewd thing’s include

-ben shapiro has no pants

-ben shapiro has his GIANT DICK OUT (2 balls, probably not accurate, basically no references, but it’s obvious it’s a penis,no matter how crude)

-there’s a girl lying in front of him, basically naked, the outline of her showing (tits) touching his dripping dick

-there’s another girl, lying with her butt facing the outside of the drawing

None of it is “detailed or accurate” it was drawn as a joke. But it doesn’t matter. It’s NSFW and my mom had TIME to examine it and whatever other words are on the notepad. I hid it now so I can’t look at it but there’s that. And she wants to talk ABOUT IT.

Also to clarify we’re Indian which is relevant information because it tells you the following:

-we’ve literally never discussed sex,etc. she just lets the school teach me

-i “shouldn’t knwo this stuff” even though I should

-very conservative even if she votes democrat

-etc. etc.

-and ‘m not doing well in school so obviously she has full eprmission to be mad at me over anything EVEN IF IT WAS THE NOTEPAD I LITERALLY WROTE ALL MY HTOUGHTS IN AND LEFT OUT (not to the ben shapiro page) TRUSTING HTEM NOT TO SNOOP BECAUSE I’D SEVERAL TIMES RECENTLY TOLD EHR AND MY DAD NOT TO SNOOP BUT NO SHE DOESN’T CARE THAT I LITERALLY CAN’T TRUST HER WITH MY STUFF EVER AND THIS IS WHY (not this exactly but my parent’s oppressive take to parenting and my dad’s angry outburts have definetly contributed largely) I CAN’T OPEN UP TO THEM OR MY FRIENDS OR ANYBODY,,,, EVER

-i’ve primarily learnt that shit from the internet, though very accurately, I don’t want my internet access taken away because a.school b. I kinda NEED it

SO obviously I have to lay it off as a. just a joke b. not talk about it because she was snooping (which makes me seem suspicious) c. say I drew it LONG AGO and AS A JOKE d. ignore it until she forgets/realizes she cna’t question me on it (v. hard lot’s of avoiding, will probably take away my interent) or even e. I drew it intentionally to see if she’d noop, but tthat takes away my moral high ground because now it’s bait that I left out + she’ll catch my bluff

It’s possible i acted macho enough in the morning when she asked me about it, she’ll leave me and my burgeoning sexuality alone (I’M KIDDING IT WAS A JOKE NOT A HORNY THING I STG). Plus she’s nosy as fuck (as evidenced) so probably not. Plus she stole my computer after I did that, while I lay in bed, so she’s gonna be petty.

SO I guess I’ll avoid her and play up the macho (b.) and fall onto a variation combination of b& c if she presurizes me + if further pressurized uphold my moral high ground in draiwng hta t(it’s normal, a joke, it’s my stupid head pad, we learned shit in shcool) nad the fact she shouldn’t have snooped. If she asks what it is I’ll say somehting like “”naked people,, I’ve seen people draw >boy parts< in shcool as a joke”

(this story ft. the first line of CaliforM.I.A. from Black Friday)

PLUSPLUSPLUS I should be doing my hw but all my supplies except my lapttop are outside my rooma nd my mom HAD to go snoop on my NSFW ABSOLUTELY FUCKIGN SHITTY JOKE ART so I’m oretty stuck

plus I cna’t go on twitter so I have no outlet

plus i stayed in bed because mom woke we up wiht that real nice line, “I saw your art, we need to talk about it” (I forgot where this point was going but, yeah)

I need to change into normal clothes

I’m hungry

I skipped my first class just becuase I--- couldn’t after that WONDERFUL morning and last evening (which I don’t have the will to elaborate on, just assume I didn’t sleep well and that yesterday was similarly but not excessively shitty)

My crush (who I haven’t messaged back for two weeks, yes I have AVOIDANT TENDENCIES and there was no reason to avoid it i’m just a frigging bitch and YES I do hate myself I’m actually really fucking sorry and my parents [it’s implied he hasa crush back so that’s nice] would never let me date him but we can dream or whatever) called me last night apparently (I didn’t see it) and left the messgae “>:(” (jokingly) so I’m tempted to apologize and send the art i drew of him (luckily I have pictures on my comp. before my mom took my ohone away) as a sort of “will this do as sacrifice lol” IDK I’M BIG DUMB DUMB, YEAH?

i’m doing shitty in school

help

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

school

i have no motivation

I HAVE ALL FS AND I’M INDIAN DO Y’ALL KNOW HOW PRECARIOUS MY SITUATION IN BECAUSE IDFK WHAT I’M DOING

there were a few otehr things but honestly i forgot, mayeb they were like “i’ve been avoiding clubs, friends, etc. and i’m still not able to do well in school”

and i’m hella thirsty (source of the headache + my stress i believe) but i refuse to go down :disappointed face emoji:

sorry for the incessant spelling errors, this is literally a freaked out tired rant. I’m going on a walk now which involves going out of my bedroom and passing mother dearest so Imma be fuckign sick. SOrry if you read this mess this far. I hope YOU’RE having a good day, because i’m NOT.

hErE cOmE tHe fUcKiNg wOlVeS (I hear y dad go downstairs and i don’t think he’s seen IT because he claims, “I’ll never snoop if you tell me not to” but guess what? he still keeps trying snoop. so it’ll be hella worse if he has. I thought my lil sister was down but she’s up so I guess I don’t have protection from confrontation any way)

also ft. freaking out by the wrecks (proabbly) though that was mainly wednesday (2 days ago, also when I did no hw despit eit being a free day and quit twitter though I still need a coping mechanism and look where THAT got me (addicted to journaling, scrolling tiwtter and saving tweets instead of liking htem so nobody knows I’m there adn TUMBLR))

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raganandhersurveys · 4 years ago

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3/1/21~5000 question survey 1-100 {CXV}

I started this about 2 years ago and never finished so I’m going to restart and see how far I can get. I’d love to get it done before the end of the year but I am definitely not holding myself to that statement haha. Here we go pt. 2

(also shoutout to @lovemesomesurveys for doing this so i could get the questions from one source. Thanks girl! <3!!

1. Who are you?

~my name is ragan

2. What are the 3 most important things everyone should know about you?

1. I am very outgoing and fun loving

2. I have a big heart but am not afraid to speak my mind

3. I hope I can one day pursue a career in fashion

3. When you aren't filling out 5,000 question surveys like this one what are you doing?

~hanging out with my friends, doing hw, eating, or talking to my bf haha

4. List your classes in school from the ones you like the most to the ones you like the least (or if you are out of school, think of the classes you did like and didn't like at the time).

~choir, drama appreciation, geology, american gov.

5. What is your biggest goal for this year?

~to begin to plan out “big girl things” in my life. i’ll be a freshman in college in the fall and i really wanna feel confident about my future(if that’s possible) so saving money, getting a real job, looking into new opportunities, etc. (if you have any advice, plz send my way haha:))

6. Where do you want to be in 5 years?

~to feel a little secure in my job or career pathway, or at least have a plan

7. What stage of life are you in right now?

~the ending of my teenage years :(

8. Are you more child-like or childish?

~neither honestly

9. What is the last thing you said out loud?

~i was singing along to a song haha

10. What song comes closest to how you feel about your life right now?

~8teen by khalid haha

11. Have you ever taken martial arts classes?

~nope

12. Does your life tend to get better or worse or does it just stay the same?

~it’s honestly one big rollercoaster. i have my good days and bad days but i try to keep a positive mindset:)

13. Does time really heal all wounds?

~it doesn’t necessarily heal it but it does help it some

14. How do you handle a rainy day?

~usually stay inside or take a nap. if it rains for a long period of time i tend to get a headache so i usually take a nap haha

15. Which is worse...losing your luggage or having to sort out tangled holiday lights?

~losing luggage for sure

16. How is your relationship with your parents?

~pretty good. my dad and i are super close. my mom and i have our moments but i love her

Will you miss them when they are gone?

~are you kidding?!?! i don’t know how i’ll recover from losing them tbh

17. Do you tend to be aware of what is going on around you?

~for the most part yes; i’m pretty good at reading the room

18. What is the truest thing that you know?

~God.

19. What did you want to be when you grew up?

~gosh so many different things; teacher, pharmacist, reporter, author, family therapist, actress

20. Have you ever been given a second chance?

~yep

21. Are you more of a giver or a taker?

~both tbh

22. Do you make your decisions with an open heart/mind?

~definitely

23. What is the most physically painful thing that has ever happened to you?

~i had to go to the hospital one time because my stomach was hurting so bad I thought i was gonna die. i don’t think anything except child birth could beat that

24. What is the most emotionally painful thing that has ever happened to you?

~some things my mom has said to me

25. Who have you hugged today?

~honestly no one :(

26. Who has done something today to show they care about you?

~i can’t think of anything but i’m sure there was something

27. Do you have a lot to learn?

~for sure. i don’t think we should ever stop

28. If you could learn how to do three things just by wishing and not by working what would they be?

~how to start my own clothing brand, how to make straight a’s, and to cook perfectly

29. Which do you remember the longest: what other people say, what other people do or how other people make you feel?

~how they make me feel fo sure

30. What are the key ingredients to having a good relationship?

~communication, loyalty, passion,

31. What 3 things do you want to do before you die?

~have a successful job, find the love of my life, and travel the world

32. What three things would you want to die to avoid doing?

~having to get divorced, letting down my future children, and emotionally traumatizing someone

33. Is there a cause you believe in more than any other cause?

~not a cause, but i’m a christain and that’s the truest thing in my life

34. What does each decade make you think of:

The 19..

20's: flapper dancers and the roaring 20s

30's: the great depression and poverty

40's: world war II and classic movies

50's: sock hops and diners

60's: iconic fashion and audrey hepburn

70's: my dad and classic rock

80's: the breakfast club and how much i wished i grew up then ahahah

90's: rnb and friends

2000 (so far): brittany spears and my early childhood

2010's: middle school and social media

35. Which decade do you feel the most special connection to and why?

~the 80s because i’ve always felt like that was the decade for me. that’s when my mom grew up and i envy her so much for growing up then. but also the 2000s because that was my early childhood and its crazy to think i’ll never get those days back

36. What is your favorite oldie/classic rock song?

~stairway to heaven: led zeppelin

37. What country do you live in and who is the leader of that country?

~the usa and president biden

If you could say any sentence to the current leader of your country what would it be?

~you good homie?

38. What's your favorite TV channel to watch in the middle of the night?

~i rarely watch live tv

39. What Disney villain are you the most like and why?

~bahah probs ursula because if i knew ariel could sing like that, i’d steal her voice too

40. Have you ever been a girl scout/boy scout?

~no

41. If you were traveling to another continent would you rather fly or take a boat?

~neither but a boat in the middle of the ocean during a storm would be terrifying

42. Why is the sky blue during the day and black at night?

~the sun?

43. What does your name mean?

~i just looked it up and apparently it means noble LMFAO

44. Would you rather explore the deeps of the ocean or outer space?

~neither. both of those sound like a bad idea

45. Word association What is the first word that comes to mind when you see the word:

Air: traffic

Meat: steak

Different: breed

Pink: drink

Deserve: freedom

White: elephant

Elvis: graceland

Magic: treehouse

Heart: pump

Clash: boom

Pulp: fiction

46. If you could meet any person in the world who is dead who would you want it to be?

~audrey hepburn 100%

47. What if you could meet anyone who is alive?

~jimmy garoppolo ;))

48. Is there a movie that you love so much you could watch it everyday?

~not everyday but i’m always down for a lotr/hobbit marathon

49. You are going to be stuck alone in an elevator for a week. What do you bring to do?

~a phone with some kind of wifi box so i can gtfo lmao

50. Have you ever saved someone's life or had your life saved?

~uhhhh not that i can think of

51. Make up a definition for the following silly words...

Fruitgoogle: a website you can search up fruits with

Ambytime: free time

Asscactus: an annoying person

52. What was the last thing you made with your own hands?

~this little gift bag for my mom’s students

53. What was your favorite toy as a child?

~american girl dolls omfg

54. How many TV’s are in your house?

55. What is your favorite thing to do outside?

~swimming or just being at the beach

56. How do you feel when you see a rainbow?

~awwwwww

57. Have you ever dreamt a dream that came true?

~i have dreamed about people and then met them which is a super weird experience

58. Have you ever been to a psychic/tarot reader?

~no

59. What is your idea of paradise?

~i think it would be a couple of different places or themes because i love to see the beauty in a lot of different ideas

60. Do you believe in god and if so what is he/she/it like?

~absolutely. He’s just and loving

61. Do you believe in Hell?

~yes

62. What one thing have you done that most people haven't?

~i honestly cannot think of anything

63. What is the kindest thing you have ever done?

~i’ve done some volunteer stuff for other people so ig something like that

64. Are you a patient person?

~i try to be

65. What holiday should exist but doesn't?

~free shopping day where only i can shop for free :))))))

66. What holiday shouldn't exist but does?

~i love all the holidays

67. What's the best joke you ever heard?

~apparently none because i can’t think of one

68. Where is the most fun place you have EVER been?

~southpoint mall in charlotte. it was shopper’s heaven

69. Is your hair natural or dyed?

~all natural .

70. Do you have any deep dark secrets or are you pretty much up front?

~none that are interesting

71. What is under your bed right now?

~dust and stuff from my childhood

72. If you were in the Land of Oz would you want to live there or go home?

~gtfo bahaha

73. If you drive do you frequently speed?

~always

74. What is the world's best song to dance to?

~depends on what kind of dancing. any 2000s club song is an absolute banger

75. What song was on the last time you danced with someone?

~some tik tok sound. just a gen z kid here :)

76. Do you prefer Disney or Warner Brothers?

~probs disney

77. What is the first animal you would run to see if you went to the zoo?

~otters or tigers

78. Would you consider yourself to be romantic?

~if i’m crazy about you, absolutely. .

79. If the earth stopped rotating would we all fly off?

~ig lol

80. What is the one thing that you love to do so much that you would make sacrifices to be able to do it?

~travel all over

81. If you (and everyone) had to lose one right or freedom, but you could pick which one everyone had to lose, what would you pick?

~i’m sorry that’s too stressful lol

82. If you had to choose would you live on the equator or at the North Pole? ~equator. i hate the cold

83. Would you rather give up listening to music or watching television?

~tv. i can’t live w/o music

84. What do you think makes someone a hero?

~being selfless

85. What cartoon would you like to be a character in?

~powderpuff girls 100%

86. Name one thing that turns your stomach:

~rats

87. What was the last thing you paid for?

~clothes from shein

88. Are you a coupon clipper?

~nah

89. Get anything good in the mail recently?

~not super recently

90. Which would you rather take as a gym class...dancing, sailing, karate, or bowling?

~dancing

91. In Star Trek people 'beam' back and forth between different places. What this means is they stand in a little tube and their molecules are deconstructed and sent to another tube somewhere else where they are reassembled. Only problem is when the molecules are deconstructed the person is dead. When they are put back together it is only a clone that has all the dead person's memories. So... Is the person who gets beamed the same person on both ends?

~no because the real person died, so it’s a clone but not the original

92. What insects are you afraid of?

~roaches and wasps

93. If you could print any phrase on a T-shirt, what would it say?

~”she stressin’ over her wardrobe”

94. What's the most eccentric thing you have ever worn?

~i have these huuuuge tiger earrings that are freaking extra. i wore them with green corduroy flair pants and a brown stripped shirt and literally looked like the 70s threw up on me hahah

95. If you could pick one food that you could eat all you wanted but it would have no effect on how much you weigh, what food would it be?

~chick fil a

96. What are your parents interested in?

~my mom loves 70s tv shows and christmas lol and my dad likes classic rock and anything to do with christianity

97. Have you ever caught an insect and kept it as a pet?

~we used to catch lightning bugs in a jar when i was little and put them in a jar.

98. What is more helpful to you, wishes or plans?

~uhhh plans....lol

99. When do you feel your life energy the strongest?

~when i’m hanging out with friends or at a high energy place like an amusement park or concert

100. You are spending the night alone in the woods and may bring only 3 items with you. What do you bring?

~water, a flashlight, and something for protection like a gun

#survey #115 #5000 question survey

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harryandmolly · 5 years ago

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Complicit // 3

summary: Shawn is under more pressure than he’s ever known. He craves release and comfort, the simplicity of sex. He gets more than he bargained for.

warnings: language, NSFW, a TLWH easter egg

WC: 7k

-----------

Shawn Mendes & Bex Spotted Canoodling in Toronto -- The Sun

Did Shawn Mendes Take Bex Home To Meet The Parents?! -- JustJared

Fallin’ All in Bex! Shawn Mendes and Bex Hit His Hometown For A Romantic Weekend -- TMZ

Penny steps back from her magnifying mirror, mashing her mauve lips together after a good blot and decides she’s ready. She smoothes her manicured fingers down the front of her ice blue Vince slip dress and reaches for the handle of her suitcase, packed with one of her favorite clients in mind, who has a fondness for vibration.

As she turns, she’s stopped in the doorway of her bathroom by an enormous German shepherd, sitting patiently, watching her like a little girl studying her mother putting on makeup. Penny scrunches her face affectionately and squats a little, cupping the dog’s big soft head in her hands.

“My baby Pammy,” she coos, leaving the dog with a kiss on the nose that makes her sniffle and sneeze, “I’ll see you early tomorrow morning. Maybe we’ll go up to Wildwood Canyon for a hike.”

At the word ‘hike,’ Pamela’s head tilts dramatically. Penny laughs and heads for her front door.

Gus is standing on her porch with his arms folded behind his back, admiring her view. When he hears her front door open, he turns with a soft smile.

“Hello there.”

Penny rises on her toes even in her strappy sandals to reach his cheek for a kiss.

“You look lovely as ever. We’re heading to the Roosevelt tonight. Can I take your case?”

Always the same routine. Gus greets her, compliments her, tells her where her date is (though she already knows) and offers to take her luggage. His professionalism is somehow comforting. Penny nods and passes over the suitcase, allowing him to open her door in the back of his Tesla (the agency used to have a small fleet of towncars but went electric last year for the environment).

The car is cool and sleek and silent. Instead of the music some of the agency women prefer to play on the way to a date, Gus and Penny talk. He catches her up on his week, tells her that his daughter Jamie is trying out for freshman soccer and they’ve been running drills in their backyard in Pasadena. His partner Ty is running another marathon, which Gus shakes his head at. Wasn’t one enough?

Penny craves the normalcy she gets a peek at in Gus’s world. Her life is beautiful -- glamorous and exciting and full of color, but Gus has a family to come home to every night that loves him and misses him when he’s away.

She gazes out at the rippling lights of West Hollywood as they zip past. She makes a choice every day to pursue a life she’s not ready to share with someone else. The truth is, her job fulfills her so much more than dating ever has. When she started working as an escort, she still tried to date. No one was ever worth leaving her work behind for. No one was worth giving up the satisfaction of helping, of relieving, of healing. She resigned not to stop working until she met that person, if they ever came along.

Gus leaves the car in the back lot, taking her case with a wink and a smile.

Penny waits.

The room is cool. The doors to the balcony are open. Penny makes a mental note to shut them for privacy later. They may be in one of the penthouse suites, but this client is extra concerned about discretion and pays a premium for Penny’s sealed lips.

The delicious thrill of an evening with a client crawls up Penny’s smooth back. She reaches out and cups a pair of full hips facing the quiet night. She uses her lips to brush away the soft red hair at the nape of a neck.

“Hello, Julia.”

The woman in her arms reacts, relaxing palpably, sighing and closing her electric green eyes.

“Where the fuck have you been in the last sixteen days?”

Her voice is teasing. Penny grins against her freckled skin, nipping to feel Julia’s perky ass grind back against her hips.

“You were the one who’s been in Moscow shaking hands and playing nice with the big boys,” Penny reminds her, stepping closer and sweeping her hands up Julia’s stomach, teasing the undersides of her breasts beneath her silk blouse.

Julia comes down another notch, her shoulders dropping as she slowly gives in to Penny’s touch. She sighs again, louder, reaching for the wall to steady herself.

“Wish I could fold you up in my pocket and take you with me.”

“Mmm, you haven’t taken me on a business trip in a while,” Penny hums, remembering Rio de Janeiro in January fondly. She slips her fingers over the generous swell of Julia’s breasts, digging her nails in slightly to get her coming all the way undone.

Julia rolls her head back against Penny’s shoulder, blinking slowly. “That’s because you fucked me so hard with the strap-on I looked like an idiot meeting the Brazilian president. I couldn’t… walk.”

Penny drops a hand back down, gliding past her Prada trousers and into what Penny is sure is La Perla lingerie to press her fingers against Julia’s wet cunt. Julia gasps and grinds down into Penny’s touch.

“Worth it, though, right, princess?”

Julia whines, loud and breathy. Penny knows the sound well. Julia Granger, Fortune 500 CEO and one of the richest, most powerful women in the world, is willing, desperate putty in Penny’s hands.

“So worth it,” Julia replies, her voice an octave higher than her soft mumbling moments ago. Penny smiles, rewarding her with a rough roll of her fingers. Julia squirms and stares at her.

“Is that what you want tonight? You wanna fuck my pussy with your pretty cock?”

Adrenaline flares hot and heavy through Penny’s entire body. She drops her head back and closes her eyes, reveling.

“Maybe if you’re the good girl I know you can be.”

Julia coos, rolling her hips between Penny and her hand. “Gonna be a good girl for you. So fucking good, Penny. The best.”

Penny’s free hand cups the back of Julia’s professionally blown out hair and drags her in. She tastes like red wine and woman. Penny groans appreciatively, loving the way Julia softens and waits to follow Penny’s lead, never taking more than she’s given, totally willing to offer her considerable power. Drunk on it already, Penny bites hard on Julia’s lower lip, swallowing the sweet, silky moan.

Penny pulls away smiling, pecking the skin she just abused, eyeing the open balcony doors.

“Let’s close these before I get you screaming for me.”

Penny scurries on tiptoes toward her VPI HW-40 turntable, a lavish gift from a client, to turn down the silky crooning of Patti Page. In her free hand, she hits the “Accept Call” button on her phone.

“Hello, stranger.”

“Ciao, bella. How are things?”

Penny looks over the warm, angular face of her brother Peter and pads back to her loveseat. She settles in, sweatpants and hoodie on in full post-date hibernation mood.

“Things are good. I’m recovering from last night.”

Peter smirks and leans back against the blank white wall behind his dorm bed. “Who was it?”

“Julia.”

Peter cocks his head and grins. “I loooove Julia.”

Penny barks a vibrant laugh. “She’s your style icon.”

“She is,” Peter admits freely, widening his eyes to show his sincerity, “She was photographed in this vintage Chanel suit last month in Page Six, I think it was from the 60s, and I swear to god--”

“Pete, you know I usually pay more attention to what’s under the suit,” Penny interrupts dryly, lifting a brow.

Peter pauses and rolls his eyes. “Then you found the perfect profession.”

“I really did, didn’t I?” she teases, wrinkling her nose, “So, how’s school?”

Peter grunts and slouches down into his twin XL, picking at his Target-purchased jersey sheets. “‘S fine. I’m taking on an extra project in my Mathematical Economic Modeling class. Gets me more face time with that professor with the Apple connections, Dietrich. And the TA is gorgeous.”

Penny’s smirk is alarmingly similar to Peter’s. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” She gestures to herself.

Peter snorts. “You’re not my tree.”

“I’m as good as. How is that tree of ours, anyway? Have you talked to them?”

“They’re fine. I talked to dad and Kris on Thursday. They’re going to Miami for fall break so they asked if I could stay with mom and Frank. I told them I was flying out to visit you instead.”

Penny pauses her fiddling with the cushions on her sofa and looks at him through the phone. “Are you?”

“Ugh, don’t look so horrified. I’m going to Sasha’s. Her family lives in Delaware and they have a boat.”

“First of all, I’m not horrified, I would just need to move some shit around in my calendar. Second, why don’t you just tell them that?”

“Oh my god, I’m not gonna, like, cramp your hooker style. Just leave me on a beach I’d be fiiiiiine,” Peter whines. Penny narrows her eyes.

“I don’t live anywhere near the beach and your ass still can’t drive. Why do you care if they know you’re at Sasha’s?”

“Oh my god, I know, my useless gay ass really needs a license, what the fuck,” Peter laments.

“HEY!” Penny yelps for his attention, “Why does it matter if you’re in Delaware?”

Peter grunts and rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t. I just don’t need them knowing shit about me, you know?”

Penny’s lips fasten. She nods. She can’t argue with that, it’s the same approach she took with their parents while she was growing up with them in the suburbs of northern Jersey. She didn’t have a shitty childhood or anything. In fact once her parents got divorced and quickly remarried wildly different people, things ran much smoother. But the family isn’t close. Her parents were very preoccupied with their own lives and never paid much attention to Penny or Peter. So they made their own family. And in that family, the less others outside it know about them, the better.

Penny feels an overwhelming urge to hug her little brother, the super genius, the boy who got into MIT at 16 to study Computer Science, Economics and Data Science. Their parents barely noticed, but Penny did. She pays his tuition bills and housing to remind him financially of how much she cares. She tries to remind him in other ways, too, like this, their (usually) weekly FaceTime date.

“Well, you’ll be out here for Thanksgiving, right? We’re gonna order Chinese and get high in Big Bear?”

Penny sounds laughably eager. She doesn’t mind. Peter deserves her eagerness and her care-giving instincts. He always has.

Peter smiles, hugging a stuffed hippogryff pillow into his narrow chest. “Course. Better you than the stepmonsters.”

Penny rolls her tired eyes. “I’m flattered. Email me your holiday schedule this week so I can buy your flight, ok?”

Peter nods and watches his sister yawn and collapse back into her pillows.

“Julia wore you the fuck out,” he laughs.

“She did. I’ve had a few very long nights over the last couple weeks, actually. And doing all the end of month stuff for Silver.”

“Silver, OMG, my mom.”

Penny continues, ignoring Peter’s extremely gen Z interruption, “And before that I was with Victor in the Caribbean.”

“Has Julia been hogging you since then?”

Penny glances at the record player, shrugging. “New client, actually.”

“Ooh, we love. Anyone I know?”

Penny doesn’t have to tell Peter to keep a secret. She also knows better than to play coy for too long. She tells him everything.

“Shawn Mendes.”

Peter’s eyes go wide. His jaw drops. He makes a squeaking noise and falls dramatically into his pillows. “Dead. Bitch, I’m dead. What the fuck?!? Are you… oh my GOD!”

Penny’s familiar with the reaction. She got almost the same one when she had a few dates with Timothee Chalamet last spring. This one is even more… Peter.

“Truly, this is the highlight of my life and it’s not even mine. What a moment. Can we just pause and take this in? Oh my god. You’re… oh my god. How many times have you seen him?”

“Twice.”

“Oh sweet god. Tell me everything, holy fuck.”

“I’m not going to tell you everything. I never tell you everything,” Penny reminds him.

She’s been open about her profession with her brother since he was 14 (with the maturity of an 18-year-old) but long ago decided he didn’t need to know all the details of her escapades. Some things have to remain just hers.

Peter whines loudly. “But this is different! He’s… god, an Adonis. The best looking man on the planet. Seriously, he has no business looking like that.”

Penny nods solemnly. She doesn’t disagree.

Peter’s lips purse. His eyes narrow. “But you like him, right?”

“I do. He’s very nice. And… he’s a very good boy.”

Peter lifts a cushion to his face and screams while Penny laughs, curling into a comfy ball on her couch.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Mendes?”

Shawn blinks. His stomach drops into his shoes and his fingers tighten around his phone. “Uh… yeah? Hi.”

“Hello, this is Colette. May I have your verbal password for security purposes?”

Shawn presses a hand into the hair he forgot he was doing up and frowns. La Splendeur has never called him before. He has to give his verbal password when he calls the service, but he’s a little thrown off at being the one getting a call. He clears his throat.

“Um, it’s “Ireland.””

Shawn wasn’t prepared to have to create a password when they first asked him for one so he spit out the first word he thought of, and Niall was the one who gave him their number, so…

“Yes, thank you. Mr. Mendes, I’m calling regarding your appointment tonight with Penny.”

He has the sudden urge to throw his phone on the bed and punch a pillow, throw a little temper tantrum. She’s cancelling. He can feel it. He’s been in Toronto sexless and desperate for 10 days thinking about seeing her again, feeling her again, making her come again. And now she’s ditching him.

“Yes?” he croaks miserably.

“There’s been a change of venue. Penny and her driver will meet you at the Bel Air Bay Club in the Pacific Palisades. We have texted you the address. Penny apologizes for the last minute change in plan and hopes you’re still able to join her.”

The roller coaster he seems to be on brings him back up to a peak. He grins and nods until he remembers Colette can’t see him through the phone.

“Yes! Yeah, no problem. 8:00 still?”

“Yes, 8:00. Thank you, Mr. Mendes. Enjoy your evening.”

Shawn is about five minutes from the turn off to the Bel Air Bay Club when the radio station he has on to block out the static in his head starts playing the Lost in Japan remix. He flinches and hits the off button on the stereo, looking around at the red light like he’s worried people stopped around him might think he’s listening to his own music. Truthfully, he doesn’t want anyone around him to notice him for any reason tonight. He feels safe enough for now.

He was immediately relieved when he realized Penny was not cancelling their date, but became slowly unnerved trying to riddle out why she didn’t have the service book a hotel room like their first dalliances. She’s changing the game. Why is she changing the game?

He knows he’s not in charge. That’s literally the point. Seeing her means seeing her on her terms and bending to her will and whims. So if driving out almost to Malibu is what she wants him to do, he’ll do it. But just when he was getting comfortable with this, or as comfortable as he can be when he’s regularly utilizing the services of a high priced call girl, she’s got him on edge again. Maybe she’s doing it on purpose. Maybe it’s a whole “domme” thing -- luring him like prey into a sense of security and then teasing him, faking him out to keep him on his toes.

He might be thinking too hard about this. Penny’s always trying to get his mind clear, not confuse or upset him. She wants to take care of him.

He swallows as the light turns green and he eyes his turn off a few hundred yards away. He hopes he’s dressed ok. He googled the Bay Club and it seems to just be an event space, not a restaurant or a hotel, which threw Shawn even further down the loop. He’s in black jeans, the good ones, the ones he wore before the Calvin Klein partnership that don’t have the big obnoxious CALVIN KLEIN JEANS patch on the back waistband, and an off white oxford with some embroidered detailing on the inside of the collar and the shirt pocket.

Are they staying here? He wonders as his Tesla hugs the curves of the road heading up the bluff to the Spanish style country club. Is she taking him to some kind of event? That would be weird. People know him. She can’t take him to stuff and expect him to be incognito. She wouldn’t do that, right? She’s been doing this a long time, she probably has had lots of famous clients that insist on staying under the radar.

He begins to spiral as the road does, dropping him right into the valet lane in front of the grand main building complete with cascading bougainvillea and an ornately sculpted fountain. He spots Gus standing under an overhang with his arms folded professionally looking like expensive private security. Shawn supposes that’s exactly what he is, actually.

The car rolls to a stop. He chokes down an inhale and rolls his window down when Gus gestures to him.

“Good evening, Mr. Mendes. Miss Penny is in the parking lot just around the corner there. May I see your--”

Shawn holds up the screenshot of his bank’s transfer confirmation on his phone with what he hopes is a smile and not a grimace but his whole stupid body is churning. Gus looks it over and nods, waving him toward the lot.

It’s nearly empty. There’s no event here tonight. It’s near sunset on a Tuesday in early June, but the dreaded LA June gloom is nowhere to be seen. Maybe Penny did away with that for them, Shawn muses absurdly as he steers the car toward the lot. She has power he doesn’t understand.

He stops the car in the middle of the lot, hitting the brakes a little too hard. He can’t even be bothered to park.

Propped up against a sleek black Aston Martin Vanquish S in a little white dress and beige leather driving gloves is Penny, looking somehow more like James Bond than one of his Bond girls. His brain pops and fizzles, giving out entirely. He swears he’s already hard in his jeans just from seeing the car. He releases a whimpered breath and gets his shit together enough to park beside her, not directly next to her for fear of bumping her car with his door.

He steps out on jello knees and stares at her, a burst of shocked laughter rumbling from his chest.

Penny grins and pats the hood affectionately.

“You wanna go for a ride?”

Does he ever.

The car growls as she shifts gears once they’re back on the PCH, cruising past ridiculous beach homes on their right and the Pacific on their left. He keeps looking down at her lap and the way her leg muscles flex and release as she works the pedals easily, like she’s been driving hundred thousand dollar sports cars since she got her license.

“How long have you had this?” he murmurs, gazing around at the blonde leather interior appreciatively.

“Two years. It’s my dream car.”

She strategically leaves out the part explaining that it was a gift from the North American president of Aston Martin for her birthday while he was her client. That’s need to know information.

“I think this is everyone’s dream car,” he snorts.

“I like your Tesla though,” she comments, shifting again, swerving around a couple hippies in a Jeep Wrangler without doors as easily as if she were brushing an ant off a windshield. Shawn’s stomach lurches in response and his skin tingles. There’s something incredibly sexy about a practiced, fearless driver.

“Yeah, it’s a good car,” he chirps, feeling silly about the boyish pride he felt when he bought it, like he was hot shit. Teslas are everywhere now, especially in LA. Aston Martins remain eternally cool. He finds himself oddly jealous.

“I don’t let just anyone in this car, you know,” she says, easing into a stop at a red light as they head north to Malibu. He looks over at her.

Her berry pink lips spread. He flushes.

“Oh no?”

He picks up on the implication that she means she doesn’t often take dates in this car. Where there was a hint of childish jealousy there’s now a swell of pleasure and pride.

“No, definitely not. There are many powerful men that are comfortable enough submitting themselves to me for sex but still can’t stomach being driven around by a young woman who’s a better driver than they are in a car that’s nicer than theirs.”

She lifts her leather gloved hand gracefully from the gearshift and drops it against his mid thigh, mashing her lips together as they enjoy the breeze coming in from the window.

“You’re saying you think I’m secure enough in my masculinity?” he jokes, but he feels himself flush a little.

Penny squeezes her fingers enough to make his whole body stiffen. She lifts the corner of her mouth in a smirk at his reaction.

“Exactly.”

Her voice is smooth and controlled, just like her driving as she springs forward on the green light. Shawn’s head tips back against the seat from the acceleration. He misses her hand as soon as she takes it away to attend to the gearshift.

He turns his head to watch her shamelessly, pressing his cheek into the warm leather headrest, admiring the way her dark hair flutters in the breeze.

“So where are we going?”

She smirks again in that way that always makes him ready to drop to his knees in surrender to her. That smile means she knows everything and controls it, too. He loves that smile. That smile is his freedom.

“Oh, you noticed this isn’t a hotel room?” she teases.

Shawn rolls his eyes and looks forward, watching the colors spread like spilled paint on a canvas as the sun begins to dip below the watery horizon. “Don’t need a hotel room to make you feel good, Penny.”

He feels her eyes and looks over to see her watching him, swiping her soft wet tongue against her lower lip. “Good to know.”

She dips around a curve and slows at another light, drumming her long slender fingers against the wheel. He watches them and can’t help but think about the last time they were together when she so generously let him watch her fuck herself and suck on her fingers after.

She seems to sense his antsiness and clears her throat. “Well, we are headed for a hotel room. I just wanted to take you on a little drive first. It’s not often I show off this car, like I said. And I like this part of the PCH.”

He settles, knowing there’s a bed for them at the end of this little journey. “Do you like the beach?”

“I love the beach,” she answers, nodding, “My favorite beach in the world is on Laucala Island in Fiji. It’s dead quiet and the snorkeling is the best I’ve ever seen.”

Shawn smiles. “So have you been, like, everywhere?”

“Well, I’ve been most everywhere on the Conde Nast Traveler’s Best Of list. There are still a lot of other places I’d like to visit.”

“Like where?”

“Like… Chicago. I’ve never been to Chicago,” she chuckles.

His eyebrows lift. “You’ve been to Fiji but not Chicago?”

She shrugs. “I know. Imagine missing out on all that deep dish pizza.”

Shawn laughs. “It makes sense though. Clients would rather fly you somewhere sexier than Chicago.”

There he goes, acknowledging the elephant in the back seat of the sportscar again. Penny nods appreciatively, but stays quiet. She still isn’t quite sure what to do about his insistence on reminding them both that she’s here with him in a professional capacity. He doesn’t even sound bitter or awkward about it, that’s the weirdest part. He just treats it like it’s a part of her life, and maybe he’s interested in her life and not just the insane orgasms she can dish out.

“What’s the craziest trip a client has taken you on?”

Penny chews on her lip. Shawn expects her to come away with lipstick on her teeth, but nothing. Figures. She’s perfect.

“I think… well, I can’t tell you who, obviously, but someone flew me to Mustique once on about four hours notice. I had to pack and get myself to LAX to catch the flight. And then we couldn’t get back for almost a week because of a hurricane on the east coast. But honestly, if I had to be stranded on any private island, I’d pick that one.”

Shawn grins and launches into a story about getting hounded by paps in Mexico with his family once. While Penny listens, she quietly marvels at how easily he handles her honesty about her job. She understands she’s not getting into the nitty gritty, not describing how many influential businessmen, politicians, musicians and actors she’s had on their knees for her, but still. Given the way he reacted the first time she flubbed and made mention of their professional arrangement, he seems oddly relaxed about it now.

She likes hearing him talk. She can see the way he settles down when he’s rattling away about something. He talks about his family and his crew and bandmates, weaving in and out of tangents with each breath. He doesn’t question it when she flips on her turn signal and edges them up a canyon path that leads up into the craggy hills, climbing away from the sunset.

He’s even still chattering when she shifts the car into park at the top of a bluff with a deserted lookout point that she knows and loves.

“... and anyway, I think the festival thing will be good, ya know? It’ll take my mind off all the shit leading into releasing the next album. Or, hopefully it will.”

He looks around and registers that they’ve stopped. He clears his throat and smiles sheepishly, tilting his head back against the headrest. His curls flop boyishly over his forehead, bathed in violet light from the sunset.

“I haven’t shut up for fifteen minutes at least, eh?”

Penny shakes her head, amused. “You haven’t, but that’s perfectly fine with me.”

Shawn understands that. It’s better if he talks than if she does. Her job is probably one that she tries not to put too much of her real self into. He imagines he wouldn’t, if he were in her position. Too messy.

He tries not to feel the pang of… something that flares in his chest when he looks at her and wonders how much of the little she shares of herself is real.

“I wanted you to see this view while the sun was still setting.”

He nods and settles in. They unbuckle their seatbelts. She reaches for her phone that’s plugged into the stereo and selects a playlist. Shawn closes his eyes, stretches out his legs as much as is possible in the sleek sports car and sighs.

“This is nice. I feel, like… really good around you.”

He doesn’t even flinch when he feels her fingers on his neck, the soft buttery leather tracing up his jugular vein to run along his jaw and tangle in the hair at his nape.

“That’s good.”

He keeps his eyes shut and breathes into her touch, letting Frank Sinatra’s voice flood out anything that isn’t Penny related. His aching brain welcomes the cleanse.

“Do you feel good around me?” he hums.

“I do,” she responds, pulling her hand back from him. He opens his eyes to see her carefully slipping out of her driving gloves. The action is erotic in a Victorian sort of way, despite the fact that if he glanced down he’d see a lot more leg than was ever shown in that era. He loves her hands, though. They’re fucking gorgeous hands. He thinks about them on a piano or a guitar and it makes him breathe a little harder.

She tucks the gloves away in the center console. Shawn swallows and blinks at her, hoping his big brown eyes can entice her into touching him with her bare fingers. He doesn’t even care where, not yet.

“So you like Sinatra?” he rasps.

He gets a nice little smile out of her. “I love Sinatra. I listen to a lot of that kind of music. The Rat Pack, anything from the 40s and 50s. My best friend Silver tells me I have an old soul.”

“Silver. That’s a cool name.”

Penny wets her lips and pushes a hand through her floaty blow out. “I’m not sure it’s real, but I don’t mind. She runs La Splendeur. We’ve known each other a long time.”

Shawn squirrels away this piece of information, knowing somehow in his gut that it’s the truth. He doesn’t think Penny lies to him much, if ever -- she just doesn’t offer a lot of specifics. When she does, he hoards them like a starving man.

“I thought about you so much in the last week,” he sighs, sounding resigned. As he keeps his eyes down at his lap, he sees her hand appear again, resting on his thigh. It’s warmer without her little glove. He takes a chance and places his on top of hers, massaging her wrist gently with his rough fingers.

“What did you think about?” she asks.

He looks up at her and sees all the little details his brain failed him on when he was away from her. She has little freckles on her shoulders, bared by the thin straps of her dress. She has a little scar on the cut of her jaw. Her lips are full and round but slightly uneven so when she purses them a certain way it looks like a sexy little scowl.

“Thought about touching you,” he muses, letting his greedy eyes rake over the rest of her, “Tasting you. I really… I love the way you taste, Penny.”

She slides down in her seat, sighing heavily, letting her legs fall open as much as the footwell will allow. Shawn’s mouth goes instantly dry.

“I wonder what you’ll do for me if I let you have another taste.”

She looks over to see Shawn’s eyes looking wild and needy. She has to tamp down a satisfied grin to keep her facade.

“Anything you want, Pen. I’ll make you come so good. As many times as you want. It can be like the other night, you know? Or… or whatever you want.”

Penny reaches out and cups his chin in her hand. He leans into it like an attention-starved house cat, practically nuzzling into her palm as his eyes flutter.

“Anything I want?” she purrs, pressing her fingertips into his jaw teasingly. He swallows a moan and nods as much as he can in her tight grip.

“Anything. Wanna be so good for you, Pen.”

She licks her pillowy lips and releases him. He inhales sharply, watching as she pushes her door open and steps out. Before he can react, ask what she’s doing or even open his door to try to follow her lead, she steps out of her vibrant pink Manolos and easily unzips her dress all the way to the hem, pushing it off her shoulders until it lands in the dust at her feet. Shawn groans at all her sweet soft skin, still evenly bronzed, her tight brown nipples puckering in the cool evening breeze. Her nude satin thong joins the rest of her expensive clothes. Shawn’s eyes focus on her, on the soft little patch of dark hair that crowns her pussy, on the memory of how wet he got her the last time they were together. He struggles to keep himself together.

She leans into the driver’s side, her breasts swinging as she lowers her head to kiss him. He sucks at her lower lip and hums into her mouth, the first taste of release as sweet as he remembers.

“Come here, Shawn,” she says firmly, jerking her head as she drops herself back into the driver’s seat, this time with her back to him, seated sideways facing her open door.

Shawn leaps out of the car, slams his door and hustles around the hood, barely slowing as he drops to his knees in front of her.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she chastises, plucking his hungry hands off her thighs as he braces himself to bury his face in her.

He looks up, bewildered but willing. She presses a finger to his lips, watches him kiss her skin while he stares up at her like it’s second nature to him.

“Stand up and turn around.”

His jaw snaps shut, the muscle twitching in protest like it does when he doesn’t get what he wants right away. Ever obedient, though, he stands and turns away.

Penny reaches into the glove compartment and comes out with a white silk tie from her favorite fetish set. She drops it in her lap and reaches for his hands, clasping them together behind his back. She binds him wrist over wrist like an expert.

His exhale whistles through his nose as his chest deflates. “Jesus, Penny.”

“I know,” she whispers soothingly. She’s been watching him all night. She knows how badly he wants to touch her. Taking that away is almost cruel, but it’s for a good cause.

With a gentle push from her, he turns and kneels again, watching as she props herself up, spreading her legs for him, arm up on the center console.

Shawn keeps his eyes on her despite how badly he wants to stare at her body. Her nose twitches against a powerful smirk. She rolls her hips forward slightly and watches him suck in a desperate breath.

“Want my pussy, Shawn?”

He nods almost frantically.

“Use your words.”

“Yes,” he croaks, his eyes flashing at hers, “Please. I need your pussy.”

She casually shrugs a hand into her hair and sighs. “Good. Because I want your mouth.”

Shawn lurches toward her, his shoulders pulling together as he buries his face in her warm wet folds. She mewls, smiling at his eagerness, rolling her hips slowly as he whimpers into her, trying to get his bearings before he can get totally lost in her perfect cunt.

He eases back slightly to focus on sucking on her outer lips, lifting his eyes to look at her as he tastes what he missed so much in the last week.

“That better, Shawn? You feel better now that you’re tasting me?”

He nods without lifting his head, swiping his tongue out to take long, broad licks of her, sweeping up all he can. When he can look up at her, her abdominal muscles quake, reacting to the heady desire in his eyes. She grunts, lifting her chin to urge him on.

“Yeah, feels so fucking good,” she mutters, letting her head fall back as she basks in it.

He knows what she likes now. After spending hours worshipping her pussy before he left for Toronto, he’s learned all the tricks, experimented carefully with pressure and position and speed and anything else he could think of to watch her perfect fucking thighs tremble next to his head and hear her make her pretty noises. Once she got comfortable with him between her knees, she started to talk dirty, praising him, swearing, generally moaning filth. He thinks he likes that maybe even more than her little whimpers.

But nothing’s better than when she screams.

Shawn starts slow, warming her up until she’s absolutely dripping on his tongue. He courses slow, deliberate circles around her entrance, just dipping inside and watching her chest rise with her inhale before he swipes at her lips some more, humming to drive her a little crazy. She likes the teasing, though. She likes the slow burn. He gives her what she wants.

“Like watching you suck on my clit with your pretty pink lips,” she half-whines, her foot slipping a little as she starts to fade closer to orgasm. He takes the hint and flicks at her swollen bud once, twice with his stiff tongue and then sucks it into his mouth with a satisfied groan.

“Yes,” she hisses, gripping his hair in one hand and the edge of her leather seat with the other, “Fuck, that’s so good. You’re so good for me.”

Shawn preens, sucking harder, then letting up on pressure, then going hard again. He can feel her orgasm coiled in her abdomen. She just has to let him release it. He alternates sucking and brushing his tongue against her entrance until she’s yanking at his hair, sitting up straighter.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come on your tongue,” she chants, nodding, eyes squeezed shut.

She opens them, looks down to see his hands straining behind his back, still bound for her as he sucks at her pussy like it’s the fucking fountain of youth.

She explodes. She holds his face down against her, rides it out against his mouth. Her legs spasm, feet slipping from where they’re propped beside him. Her cheeks are flooded red, her eyes glassy and dark as she swears his name. He doesn’t let up until she’s pulling his head away with a fist in his hair. He licks his lips and smiles -- it’s not a smirk or a simper. He smiles at her like he’s never been happier to see her. She grins back, giggling effusively.

“How was that?” he grunts, even though he knows. He wants to hear it. He deserves it.

“Perfect, Shawn. So… fuck, so good. Your mouth is amazing. You make me feel…” she sighs again through a drowsy grin, “You get me so high, baby.”

Baby.

His ears go as red as his cheeks. He ducks his head shyly, feeling his chest burn as his heart rattles like an angry kettle in his chest. One word, a word he’s been called a hundred times, a pet name he sings in songs he writes for women that don’t exist, and it has him reeling. He manages to raise his eyes again. She’s watching him fondly.

“You like that?” she whispers, cradling the back of his head as she reaches down behind him to free his hands. They go limp at his sides. He makes no move to touch her.

What a good boy.

He nods, uncertain. “I like that.”

“We all want to feel wanted, Shawn,” she coos, nudging him back up on his feet. She grins at the patches of dirt on the knees of his dark jeans. She offers him her hand and he helps her stand now in the crisp blue light of new dusk.

“Kiss me, baby,” she breathes, reaching for his waist. A weak noise of eagerness slips from his throat as he pulls her in, tucks her warm, orgasm-flushed body against his and lets her taste herself on his tired tongue. Just as he’s settling in, just as he gets comfortable and starts toying with tangling his fingers in the ends of her hair and massaging her cheek with his thumb, she pulls away, poker face firmly in place.

“Can you get my coat from the trunk?” She seals her request with a perfunctory peck against his lips.

He nods, letting himself look her over, naked and proud on this bluff above the ocean like there’s no one around for a thousand miles. He pops the trunk and opens her suitcase. A Burberry trench coat sits on top. He blinks and lifts it out. He’s about to ask if this is all she plans on wearing tonight when he catches sight of what else is in the suitcase.

He peeks his head around the trunk to look at her.

“Is… that for me?”

She places a hand on her hip and shrugs. “Dunno. Guess we’ll find out tonight.”

Shawn’s heart bounces into his throat. His fingers tighten around the jacket.

“Jesus… Christ.”

Penny smiles and looks down at her feet as she takes slow steps toward the back of the car. She pries the jacket from his clawed hands and slips it on over her bare body, tying it at the waist.

She looks up at him under soft, hooded lids. She sinks her teeth into her lower lip and cocks her head. “Ever tried one?”

He swallows like a fucking cartoon character and shakes his head.

“I think you’ll like it,” she purrs, flipping her hair out from under her collar and turning on her heel. She crouches, gathers up her dusty clothes and tosses them into the backseat. She slips back into her heels and lowers into the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition.

The car growls. Shawn shivers. She pops her head out the driver’s side door and raises her eyebrows.

“Coming?”

Definitely.

----------

Hello! Thank you for continuing to support my smuttiest series ever. If you’d to further motivate me, consider buying me a Ko-fi (link in bio)!

Taglist: @smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @grittyisaho @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @yslsaint @randi-eve @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire @itrocksmysocks @parkerspicedlatte @simpledomain @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day @thecurlsofgod @magcon7280 @bensbuttercup @shawnsmusical @paigeasourous @tell-me-when-ur-ready @softmendesss @tnhmblive @greedydevil @tamegray @meltingicequeen @havethetimeeofyourlifee @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @hannahlouiseee @sarahlauramendes @shawnsmoose

#shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes smut #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes drabble #shawn mendes one shot #sub!shawn #shawn mendes fiction

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sovonight · 5 years ago

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hi! ive been looking thru ur blog recently because im trying to get into digital painting and im using ur blog as reference for how to do clothing folds, etc. i noticed u had a bunch of posts ab grad school and college and stuff & i was wondering what ur major is? im a hs junior rn and im stressing big time ab majors, i was wondering if you’ve found any art/stem balance or if u have any tips?? u don’t have to answer is u don’t want, i was just thinking haha

yeah sure! in undergrad i was a mechanical engineering major. i was a full time student who didn’t work, so any time outside of classes & hw was time i could use to draw. the first year’s always pretty hard no matter what– adjusting to college and all– but i got used to managing my classes and could keep my gpa up while still doing art on the side. i did most of my gravity falls fanart while in college, so you can probably see how much art i was able to keep up, but big projects like the dating sim and my ford zine were so time consuming that they were really only possible after i left.

but time’s not the only factor– keeping myself physically able to draw was really important too, and was one thing i kind of failed at. i regularly want to draw so i’d draw allll the time, but combine that with taking notes every day, writing up 4 homework assignments every week, and taking 4-6 midterms and 4 finals every quarter, and do that for 4 years, and my wrist was weak. after i graduated i still had to do research over the summer bc i got into grad school, and at that point my wrist just couldn’t take it anymore, it was useless for weeks. i really shouldn’t have used it again and just let it heal, but i had classes again so i had to put it back through the wringer, and then after i left grad school (i quit within a year after i started), my wrist was close to useless again, for months that time. i have a strong feeling that it’s because i never paced myself or did stretches in all the time i was in school. i know every artist says to do those hand/wrist stretches… but do those stretches! stretch, exercise, and/or give your drawing hand frequent long breaks. running a marathon’s better than doing a sprint.

oh but if you’re aiming for a job in stem, try not to neglect college stuff in favor of art, like i unfortunately did! my goal was to have engineering as a day job to fund art on the side, so i really should’ve put more time into engineering and gotten all the engineering experience i could’ve while i was still a student, but bc i liked keeping my time free for art i never did any internships or anything. i should’ve taken my chance to do internships, work with professors, join engineering clubs/groups, and all that good stuff, bc once you leave college and start looking for a job, you’re at a disadvantage if you don’t have any previous experience.

overall though don’t overwhelm yourself if you can’t make the balance work! of the two halves, art’s the one that doesn’t require formal schooling, so i feel like if it happens to fall to the side while you’re in college, that’s fine, y’know? college is just 4+ short years– art’s still gonna be there for you when you’re done.

#sovo answers #i'm assuming you're thinking abt majoring in stem so my answer follows from that #i might've gone on some tangents so if i missed/didn't totally answer the question just lemme know!#art tips

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late-nite-student-ramblings · 5 years ago

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My study Habits

Hello! It’s around exam time for me and I just finished my first exam so I thought I would share here how I formed my study habits. This is different for all classes, of course, so my focus will be from the classes I’ve had, mostly maths, engineering, and physics classes but I’ll try and throw in some general tips.

1) Learn what your teacher wants.

Sounds dumb but a lot of professors want you to succeed and they’ll tell you how to succeed in their class if you just listen. My lin algebra prof repeatedly told us definitions would be on the test and guess what, it was almost a third of the exam. My physics prof literally told us at the beginning of the semester that the exam would be taken directly from the Hw and practice exams. I know these might be extreme cases but still. Believe me when I say they’re not going to tell you something completely wrong just for funsies they want to help you and will generally steer you into the direction they want you in.

2) Find your best working environment.

Personally, I have to work alone or with one other person max depending on the material. I can’t study with the tv going until I’m already in my groove. Water only and no food allowed. After two semesters of trial and error, I have specific places for specific types of studying I’m doing, memorization, calculation based, programming.

Some people can work with noise, some people can’t. Some people can work in their room, some people can’t. Some people can form study groups, others get nothing out of them. Everyone is different so find what’s best for you.

3) Find at least 1 person you work well with.

Again depends on the class but for my programming heavy classes, I have one other person that we always do hw together. If it’s an understanding based class it does a lot of good to have someone else there to talk things out with and you catch each other’s mistakes easier then google can.

4) That being said, be careful.

I’ve known several people in my classes that have their groups and I get it, the more the merrier or whatever, but we all know how large groups end up doing work. Everyone is at different learning levels and if you’re not up to speed with the others you might get left in the dust. That or one or two people do all of the work and the others just copy, so either you end up doing all the work, we all know how the feels, or you just copy and don’t really learn anything.

5) Learn as you go

Actually, truly, make sure you understand what’s happening as the class goes on. I just had a linear algebra exam and on review day there was a group of people asking overly basic questions. Don’t be that person, if you don’t understand something, catch it early on. Not to be harsh but you shouldn’t be asking about one of the first things we learned in the class a whole chapter in. For many classes, the lessons build on each other so it’s easy to get behind, don’t do that to yourself.

6) Don’t waste time on something if you know it’s not going to help.

There are some classes that you just have to practice the material. It doesn’t matter how many youtube videos you watch on the topic, the only way to get better is to practice it yourself. Sure youtube videos can help you get an idea of what the material is, I know it’s saved me multiple times, but you’re going to make mistakes. You need to know what kinds of mistakes you make so you can be on the lookout when it matters.

7) Try.

This is probably the easiest thing on this list to slack on. I know, we’re all busy, we have other classes, maybe this class, in particular, isn’t super important to your major but put some effort goes a long way. A lot of effort over a long period of time is more efficient than the same amount of effort in three hours.

If you need to spend 5 hours on hw, an hour a day for a week is way less strain then 5 hours, 10 hours before its due.

8) Sleep

For heaven's sake, sleep is so important to existing as a human. Don’t skimp on being human just to cram. I don’t remember where I heard this but the general idea is that. Yeah staying awake and cramming may give you 10% extra knowledge, but fatigue will make you 10% more likely to make simple mistakes that you don’t catch. Not even going to go into how cramming is bad for long term learning.

If you have more to share feel free to add! Happy to clarify anything in the post or just have a chat.

All the best,

-E

#University #University tips #University life #College tips #college life #college #first year tips #studyblr #second year #study habits

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thesportssoundoff · 5 years ago

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“Conor McGregor is back! Excitement may vary. Excitement in this card may vary! Excitement is really yours to have and hold, folks” The UFC 246 Fight Preview

Joey

January 13th, 2020

The UFC kicks off its 2019 schedule after a few long weeks off with a card that will, with very little sarcasm in play, play a hefty part in defining the way 2020 rolls out deep into the year. UFC 246 from Las Vegas, Nevada is a weird card on paper but it's also very significant and significance can sometimes create card quality/card quantity. Conor McGregor vs Donald Cerrone is a significant fight, one that figures to ask and answer a lot of questions for both men. For better or worse, the future of two divisions could be mapped out in one night depending on the results of one which fight which again parlays to its perceived significance. The PPV main card is "fine" although it clearly lacks a significant co-main event and the televised prelims are actually respectably spiffy as they're essentially four well put together "prospect of note vs proven veteran" fights with some good early ESPN+ prelim action too. Again I don't know if this card is good or bad---just that it's a significant card of fights and by the time Friday comes along, that long term delay in high level MMA is going to be eating at us SO we'll be all in on this one.

2020 Stat-O-Matic:

Debuting Fighters (): Ode Osbourne, Aleksa Camur Main Event Exemption:

Short Notice Fighters (): Main Event Exemption:

Second Fight (): Askar Askarov Main Event Exemption: Vs Debutantes:

Cage Corrosion (Fighters who have not fought within a year of the date of the fight) (): Conor McGregor, Brian Kelleher Main Event Exemption: Conor McGregor

Undefeated Fighters (): Aleksa Camur, Maycee Barber Main Event Exemption:

Fighters with at least four fights in the UFC with 0 wins over competition still in the organization (): Alexey Oleinik, Justin Ledet Main Event Exemption:

Weight Class Jumpers (Fighters competing outside of the weight class of their last fight even if they’re returning BACK to their “normal weight class”) (): Donald Cerrone, Conor McGregor Main Event Exemption: Conor McGregor, Donald Cerrone

Twelve Precarious Ponderings

1- So what necessarily is the end game here for Conor McGregor? As has been the case since he broke out onto the scene and KO'd Jose Aldo, much of Conor's "plans" feel less like plans and more like thoughts he forces into existence. The good stuff like being a double champ and finagling a big money Floyd fight and the bad stuff like the Khabib lead up or believing he could just beat Nate Diaz up 15 lbs because it seemed like fun all feel like the decisions of a guy who sort of just decides he's going to do something and then does it regardless of the long term impact. Conor had the chance to fight Justin Gaethje and instead pushed for Frankie Edgar fight, ultimately leading us to the here and now where he'll draw Donald Cerrone up a weight class after a year plus layoff. In the time between Conor's LAST fight and this one, he's been arrested, accused of sexual assault, accused of fathering a child out of his marriage and feel free to fill me in on anything I may have missed. What sort of made Conor McGregor a superstar was that he flirted with the concept of being a character completely in control of everything he did and 2019 at the very exposed him as somebody lacking any semblance of control within his life. Either way, it's hard to say what the future holds for McGregor with a win. We know a loss means it's over as four losses in his last five pro fights (I'm counting Floyd here for completionist sake) would probably kill whatever credibility he had and whatever legitimacy he garnered over the course of three years running through the UFC ranks. A win? It's hard to say with a guy who when he's right has the ability to dictate what he opts to do next. A win? Conor McGregor would fight Jorge Masvidal in a big money fight, a third Diaz fight, a GSP fight where both fighters can cash out or go and chase down Khabib. If one truly wishes to get stupid, I suppose fights with Pacquaio, Floyd or Paulie Malignaggi exist out there as well. The first step isn't so much winning this fight but winning this fight and getting back to what made this whole act work to begin with.

2- This is historically the sort of fight Cerrone doesn't show up for and gets forced out of his element but there's some things here I think that do tilt the scales slightly in his favor. For starters, I DO believe in ring rust and Conor hasn't fought in over a year and has fought just twice since the end of 2016. You can argue that wear and tear means Cerrone is shop worn but I feel as though he fights better the MORE he fights and the more active he is. For a fighter like Conor who lives or dies based upon how sharp his timing is, I think it's fair to wonder if the long layoff is going to shake him. We saw him struggle with his timing vs Khabib and while Khabib is on a whole different galaxy than Cerrone, I'd argue it's worse to be slightly off vs a dude like Cerrone who does have the starch in his strikes to do more than flash KD you. Also Cerrone is probably the first guy since Jose Aldo that Conor's had to be mindful of walking into smoke with the legs. Also Cerrone's been campaigning at 170 lbs on and off since 2016 and so you have to assume if this is about being comfortable at the weight class, he's got the nod over Conor.

3- Under normal circumstances, I'd say "I think Conor's defensive wrestling is somewhat understated and the idea that anybody can take him down and sub him is a fallacy" but I also have ZERO idea if he's actually done any serious grappling training or if he's just hoping Cerrone's going to play nice and strike with him for a bit.

4- Which fight is more undesirable for Amanda Nunes; a Holly Holm rematch where she can't realistically top what she did in the first fight or a Rocky Pennington rematch where she'll be tasked with trying to sell/expand upon one of her most boring fights ever?

5- I wonder who is more broken in theory between Holm and Pennington. Rocky looked to be on the verge of going from solid WMMA fighter to a damn good top 5-ish woman at 135 lbs after dominating Meisha Tate but she broke her leg, took a lot of time off, followed that up with a dud vs Amanda Nunes and then got stalled out by Germaine de Randamie. She rebounded with a win over Irene Aldana which almost felt more about Aldana being a putz and less about any sort of sign of a rebound for Rocky. It's worth remembering that the fight vs Holm was the one that got sort of signified that Rocky was better than people realized but it required her to pressure for fifteen minutes and that's sort of gone away for her recently. As for Holm? She's fought Rousey, Cyborg, Tate, Shevchenko and Nunes. She's pushing 40. She had an extensive boxing history that suggests she's taken plenty of damage. She just got KO'd for the first time in her UFC run the last time out and at this point it's fair to ask if Holm's durability is going to be shot. This fight is why Aspen Ladd figuring shit out is really important for this division.

6- Maurice Green and Alexey Olenik being on this main card is curious until you realize that this main card has two WMMA fights and a fight at lightweight on it. Sometimes beef gets called in to "bulk" up the main card.

7- Anthony Pettis sure picked a fine week to announce a UFC lawsuit, am I right?

8- Let's talk about how great these prelims are for a second. Sodiq Yusuff vs Andre Fili is a battle of exciting prospect and proven veteran with a multitude of ways to win. Nasrat Haqparast vs Drew Dober is a battle of exciting prospect vs proven veteran with a multitude of ways to win. Maycee Barber vs Roxanne Modafferi almost feels like the potential crowning of Maycee as a 125 lb contender by taking on a former title contender who STYLISTICALLY will at least give us a reason to double check her ability to do things such as defend takedowns and deal with pressure. Lastly I REALLY do love this fight between Chas Skelly and Grant Dawson as Dawson has slowly gone from somewhat awkward wrestling savant to a more well rounded pressure fighter while Chas Skelly is one of those ultimate gatekeeper types for young fighters. These are all great fights worthy of going out of your way to see on ESPN.

9- We're four years now into the Alexa Grasso project and I still don't know if she has the fight smarts to ever take the next step in her career. A good test vs a declining Claudia Gadelha who still has something to offer.

10- How much ya wanna bet Maurice Green allows Olenik to pull him down on top of him?

11- Justin Ledet's run at 205 lbs has been weird as his lack of athleticism for the weight class plus what feels like an odd lack of strength (How he was burly enough to fight at HW but gets chucked around at 205 lbs is a mystery to me) has made him go 0-2 in the division. After a lengthy lay off, he's back at 205 lbs against Aleksa Camur. Camus is a training partner of Stipe Miocic and he got in here off the Contenders Series where he had a crazy fight that exposed him to be a) wacky as all hell and b) a bit too raw for my liking in the UFC. This feels pretty winnable for Spirit of Truth lookalike Ledet.

12- Ode Osbourne vs Brian Kelleher is an early FOTY candidate to me.

#MMA #UFC #McGregor #Cerrone #Pettis #CDF #Holm #Pennington #Prospects

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