#as i was starting to dip my toes into more shows i had heard about numerous times in passing like bob's burgers or azumanga daioh that year

[sonicf64]

a few days ago I was looking for an old dm on discord and got distracted by a couple other dms of people i haven't messaged in a while, and one of them had a conversation where i awkwardly admitted that I had never watched the scott pilgrim movie and wasn't interested in watching it at that moment

...boy, if only i knew

[matchadobo]

KIDD; fvck me like you love me

wc: 1933 summary: name finally gets vocal about her relationship with kidd, wanting more than just s3x warning/s: nsfw🔞, fem reader, smut-fluff-smut, very cute and sensual

"you catching feelings, captain?" you gazed at the shirtless redhead beside you, he's got his eyes closed and his human arm behind his head, his biceps and torso too fucking toned it drives you beyond insanity.

he opened his eyes, sitting and gazing down at you. "that so? you sure you're not breakin' first?" he got off the bed, waltzed to the bathroom without caring that he's fucking naked, and peed while looking at you in the mirror. after washing his hands, he made his way back.

"love, aye? you think you've got what it takes to love me?" he crawled back in the bed, reaching over to give you a wet kiss.

"mm-mm, it's too late, eustass. we've got to resupply and leave early tomorrow." you pulled away, but he instead planted kisses on your neck, gripping your waist closer.

"why'd i have to listen to you? i'm the captain of your ship, sugar." he murmured by your shoulders.

"come on, like i don't shut you up during sex." you got on top of him.

"you do most of the shutting up, don't you? got you all dumb over my cock." he had a firm grip on your hips, up to your waist, before he settled them on your tits. "what do you want? wanna go for round 2?"

"wanna know what i really want?" you leaned down, nose to nose and forehead to forehead with him. "i want you to fuck me like you love me."

he looked at you with stunned eyes, blinking as if it'd give him the clarity from what he just heard. "you've already dropped the hint so many times, right? why don't you come prove it, big guy?"

progress was there, but it ain't hefty. baby steps, you know eustass wasn't big on emotions. you'd notice he'd be on your side more, if not behind, or maybe act more protective by standing before you. he doesn't want to undermine how strong you are, he just wants to show you that this meathead will protect you.

he'd start holding you tighter during idle times in parties, his arms and touch would never leave you nor would his lips, you'd always find a place for yourself between his thighs.

when you're doing chores like laundry and dishes, he helps you and once you tease him about it, he'll brush off an excuse like he's bored and tells you to shut up about it. he'll even use his powers to give an extra hand. he'll even go an extra mile to help you carry stuff, brushing it off that your ass might get tired and he doesn't want to deal with it kinda shit.

and that one time, on your birthday, he even baked you a cake! with killer's help of course, but he didn't tell you that 🤫. he even got some frosting and powder on his body and shirt while handing it to you. he was the cutest thing.

instead of inviting you for booze, he'd have an intricately designed metal bouquet and will shyly hand it to you while asking you to have dinner with him at some lowkey diner on town. when you two would finish, he'd take you to the dock near your ship and dip your toes on the sea while watching the stars, moon, and entertaining yourselves with more shit you to never run out to talk about.

once it becomes too late and you two are in the mood, he'd give you a long kiss before spinning you around like the one they do in romantic movies. once you face him again, he'd wrap you in his embrace and place a kiss on your forehead. "you ready? i'll show you how the next pirate king fucks you like he loves you."

you found your saliva pooling in your mouth, hence choking, while alternating your gaze at his lustful, amber eyes. "i'm...scared?"

"that's what you also told me when we first met. seems you attract what you fear, lovely." he chuckled, letting you go before intertwining your fingers together as you two walked hand in hand on your shared quarters.

he'd start by taking your coat off, placing a kiss on your cold, bare shoulders on the way. you shivered and leaned at his touch. he then zipped down your dress, hooking the arm loops by your arms to let it slide down the floor before grasping your mounds firmly. his cold hands left you breathless as you shut your eyes.

"turn around for me, angel." he mumbled softly and you complied. he raised your chin with his index and planted a kiss on your lips, something was different about how he kisses lately. he takes his time taking your breath away with how long he wants to stay connected. he got more handsy, more on your neck, jaws, and cheeks.

your hands made its way to his clothes, slipping off his tank top and unbuttoning his jeans. he'd guide you to his raven, velvety bed while staying connected to you, swallowing your moans. once you made it to the bed, he'd let you lay down as he gets on top of you.

"ehh? doing the giving? that's a surprise, kidd." you propped yourself up by your elbows, watching him plant wet kisses on your bare body.

"mmm, wanna give my woman what she deserves." he peppered your skin with haphazard kisses and licks, making sure to stipple the surface of your torso with the prints from his lips.

"you're getting more slick with words, captain." you smiled, observing how he proceeds.

"aye. you've taught me beautiful things, sweet stuff." he met your twinkling eyes, his lips had a sheen of saliva as the tint on his lips get more smudged with each kiss on your body. "let's get this thing off, hm?" he lowly growled, biting the string of your panties and sliding it off your hips. "'s on the way."

"what a naughty captain you are." you got comofrtable, combing your fingers through his rich, ruby locks.

"you see," he pried your thighs open, nibbling at the skin just before your cunt. "i haven't gone to realize how much 'giving' is so much better than 'receiving' until i've seen you look at me with that dirty glint on your eyes, expecting to be praised and made love to." he reached over to brush his thumb under your eye. "how it begs for more and how you repeat 'please' like a dirty, little prayer when i dote on your pretty, throbbing cunt." he then placed his thumb to rub on your clit while keeping his eyes on you, he smirked seeing your face contort to a lewd pout. "and don't even get me started when you scream my name, sweetness. you sound so, so fuckin' precious."

"i'm at my fuckin' knees, my queen."

you stifled your moans with his pillows, pushing his head further in your cunt. he reached over to hold your hand, letting you bury his head on your sopping crevice.

once you were a panting, crazed, whore, he'd finally wipe off his mouth like he just had the meal of his life. he'd kiss you with the same lips that drowned in your juices, it was so dirty yet you love it so much.

he positioned himself. he rarely does missionary, he loves your ass so much he'd always be headstrung on giving you backshots. but now, he'd want to never take his eyes off you, the same with you to him. so he pressed his forehead to yours, intertwining your fingers with his, and exchanged breaths once he was fully in. you two fucked so many times but this one feels different, he feels different. he's warmer, he's more gentle. he looked into your eyes way more, he kissed you way more, and he held your hands on the way, squeezing each time you felt like you were leaving earth with his unholy manner of fucking.

"don't lose yourself too much, bunny. we're doing this all night." he planted a kiss on your cheek then on your hand after before grasping your hips and drilled into you. "you look so beautiful like this, name." he panted, throwing his head back and seeing as his styled hair get more and more disheveled. a hotter version of your lover. his eyeliner and lipstick was already smudged with all the unholy acts you two have been doing. his hair has been pulled so many times and your lipstick marks have decorated his face and body.

"y-you're too-aah- fucking good- fuck-" you slurred with each thrust, scratching on his arms as your eyes rolled at the back of your head. he's filling you up so good, so full, and he even held you tight. you were in heaven.

he leaned down, bodies close together as he slowed down his pace. connecting his forehead with yours once again, intertwined hands settled at the side of your head, his eyes looking deeply into yours. his hips rocking you back and forth, prying your legs open.

"i love you." he broke out, kissing the corner of your lips. "you're the best fucking thing that ever happened to me, you know that?"

you broke into giggles at this once emotionally constipated man that used to scowl and bark violently at you who was now inside you, at your cheeks as you felt the heat in his face get deeper, proclaiming his love for you. you pulled him in for a hug, placing a kiss on his cheek.

there was something different about his eyes. his eyes mirrors how he desires you, not sexually, but physically. he yearns to have you inside of him. too desperate to have you in his arms. too hungry to hear how you say it back to him. too hopeful to make you feel good. too lost in the pleasure of your cunt and the melody of your moans.

and he was slow and gentle. delicately fucking you yet he was so deep and so good. his breath was hot against your cheek as he panted for more. his grip was firm yet protective. his thrusts were sharp but he always studied your gaze, seeing any shift in your expression. it was a silent exchange of words with parted lips and smiling eyes. you stayed like that for a while, earnestly memorizing how each other looked under immense hypnosis of the addicting back and forth feeling. a warm, budding sensation that left knots on your stomachs.

kidd is the most, if not the only one, vocal partner you have ever slept with. he wouldn't have any shame in being so loud and letting your crew members hear how good he's feeling. but tonight, he was all about hums and low growls. he wanted to hear you more. he wanted to hear how much you wanted him. he wanted to hear how good he's making you feel. he wanted to chorus with your moans and let yours echo in his ears.

so once he was close, he placed his lips by your cheek after kissing your forehead. "do i come inside? can i come inside?" he begged, tucking hairs behind your ear. his hot breaths and guttural moans driving you stupid.

"hmm, i wouldn't mind having cute, little brats with you." you smiled ear to ear, placing a kiss on his forehead. you saw the gradual, sheepish smile that spread across his lips. "i'll be glad they'll take after their father."

this was kind of all over the place? buuut can't get started on the requests yet 🥹 shit at school are piling up again

[arcane-vagabond]

Hey.

Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.

So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.

I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.

Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.

I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.

Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.

The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.

How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.

Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.

Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.

Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.

To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.

Nothing but love,

Liz 💛

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it. 

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep. 

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me. 

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand. 

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky. 

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs. 

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done. 

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard. 

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more. 

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon. 

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated. 

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.” 

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about. 

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it. 

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile. 

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me. 

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start  Pulling all the stops out  On the down low, secretly  But I think you knew your psychology  Was working on me  Infatuated  And doing this all wrong  You've got  My number and my name  And you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going  Can I see you every day?  Do you love me  Like I love you?  Ah, you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me. 

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand. 

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me? 

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays. 

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick. 

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him. 

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings. 

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal. 

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway. 

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him. 

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before. 

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv. 

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which. 

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down. 

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.” 

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...” 

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks. 

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?” 

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind. 

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.” 

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

[angryplebianart]

I don’t wanna sound rude at all but I am genuinely curious as to why you ship 2doc? I’m not trying to like target you in particular or anything I’m just wondering in general why do people like it

This is gonna be a long one lmao

A little backstory: When I first got into Gorillaz I really hated Murdoc. My sister showed me a playlist of all the videos in order. The whole playlist I kept going on about how I didn't like Murdoc and my sister was like "well, just wait." By Lost Chord I was a bit sympathetic and beginning to like Murdoc, I loved seeing that he was helping everyone else escape before he did and I really liked seeing 2D save him despite everything.

I've always been a sucker for relationships with drama(even platonic relationships), for one, for two I love when characters have chemistry (even platonic chemistry) because of what they've been through together if that makes sense.

This was before I really knew much about the band at all besides what was shown in the videos and the first time I heard about 2doc I was confused and kind of weirded out that people would ship such a toxic and dysfunctional couple. As I learned more about the band and the characters, though, and as I dug into the lore, I found Murdoc to be a much more sympathetic character than I had originally seen. A flawed character, deeply flawed, but sympathetic nonetheless and with the inkling of a redemption arc forming. I also found it interesting that even after all that had happened, 2D and Murdoc still had this indescribable bond (that a lot of people label as Stockholm syndrome but I do not).

I was on twitter one day and stumbled across a discussion about the song Souk Eye and heard that in the live shows, every time the line "I will always think about you" was sung, Murdoc's face was up on the screen. I dug into the lore for TNN album and became even more intrigued with the ship. I saw a Souk Eye animatic that depicted 2D having these battling emotions over Murdoc being gone. That he really missed him but still resented him as well and by this point you could say I was dipping my toes into the 2doc waters.

I started looking for other signs that maybe it was implied to be a canon thing and found so much stuff thanks to a couple "2doc Daily" accounts on twitter (that really just regurgitated the same things the other account said, to the point that I didn't realize it was two different accounts for a couple months lol) that only posted canon evidence.

Maybe it's silly and a lot of people don't like it, but I really do like it. It's so fun to headcanon about the ship and their dynamic.

It really seems like 2doc has been somewhat implied since the beginning in the lore and some interviews, and even some of Jamie's art (them wearing each other's clothes, 2D with Murdoc's monogrammed razor hooked on his necklace, them sharing accessories like the little crown necklace and them sharing hats on PB, the original storyboard for the newspaper comic in Do Ya Thing, there's more examples but those are the ones off the top of my head rn).

Regardless of the ship's popularity, I've come to really like it and it just adds another layer of enjoyment to my love for the band! 🩵💚☺️💚🩵

Thanks for the ask! Sorry if this is rambly or doesn't make a lot of sense, I'm writing this right before bed lol

Edits: I separated this long ass wall of text into digestible paragraphs 😛

[shadyufo]

How much do you like selling on Etsy? I've been thinking about opening up a shop to sell my own taxidermy art on there. It's just that I've heard Etsy is known for shutting down shops randomly and people keep saying that Etsy's "dying"/on a downward slope. I also heard there are a lot of scammers... What are your thoughts?

Hi Anon!

My feelings about Etsy have definitely gotten sorta complicated over the last few years.

First of all, I love my little shop. I love getting to interact with so many sweet and lovely folks and I love getting to send my art and oddities all over the country. I’ve sold pieces through Etsy that have ended up in museums and classrooms, as props in movies and television shows, that have been centerpieces in peoples’ weddings, that were birthday gifts for little kids just getting into nature and science, and so many other neat and wonderful places with some really awesome people who I am forever grateful to for supporting my shop.

That said, in my opinion, Etsy is definitely not what it used to be and there are plenty of things I wish they would do differently to make the site better for sellers and buyers. I think their search feature needs a total revamp and they also need to crack down on all the sellers flooding the site with mass-produced merchandise. Their recent decision that AI-made content is totally fine by them is another serious bummer and a slap in the face to the real artists using their platform. The list goes on.

In spite of all that, if you want to open an online shop, then Etsy is still probably the best site to do it on, at least starting out. It’s a trusted, household name and they have millions of users from all around the world so you are going to be getting much more traffic than if you were just starting your own site from scratch without any sort of social media following.

You'll still likely want to grow a social media presence (if you haven't already) to help drive traffic to your site rather than rely on Etsy alone for this. A great deal of my own shop's traffic comes from Tumblr and what little I post on other social media. This is something I really should be better about as I've kinda shot myself in the foot by not utilizing them more over the years...but I just really don't like using TikTok or Instagram haha.

From what I’ve seen, vulture culture stuff-wise, Etsy mostly gets mad at folks who sell wet specimens or other more “gruesome” type of oddities and don’t blur the main listing photo or do something similar to warn folks that it could be something they might find upsetting. They also prohibit the sale of some animal parts that are perfectly legal to buy and sell provided you follow the laws around them. So if a seller was listing some of those items, while legal elsewhere, that might have gotten them in trouble with Etsy. Here's a list of what they don't allow. And here's a more specific list of their prohibited animal parts. Note bear, wolf, and zebra are on the list—it's perfectly legal to sell parts from some of these animals in some places provided you follow the laws around doing so, but Etsy doesn't allow it at all. I've had them remove listings for domestic dog and cat skulls in the past as well—the law there is in regards to selling dog and cat fur (which is illegal in the US) but Etsy seemed to think it covers bones as well which it does not.

As for scammers, don't click on suspicious links anyone sends you and watch out for people wanting to contact you outside of Etsy. Don’t swap phone numbers, email addresses, etc with people. Etsy has guides on their site on what to watch out for that it’d be good to read through.

So all of that to say that if you want to start selling your work online then I think Etsy is most likely going to be the best place to do it, at least starting out. If you want to just dip your toes in the market before opening an Etsy shop though you can always try posting a few items here or there on Instagram or one of the oddities selling groups on Facebook but in my experience at least, Etsy is still the best way to go. Then, once you build up a following, you can always start your own site or branch out beyond Etsy if you want to.

I wish you all the best, Anon! Hope you find wild success selling your work wherever you decide to do it <3

[stevesbbg]

a fishy first impression - C.S. x D4!reader

a/n: RAHH I'M ALIVE tbosas has taken over my brain so get ready for a LOT of corio content (also pls excuse my horrible title for this, a girl can't resist her puns) - i needed a little warm up so i hope you guys can tolerate this little drabble i wrote!! luv u all <33

cw - she/her prns, corio is a jerk and uses the reader for his gain (money), i probably spelt things wrong lol

Word spread fast around the academy...

Coriolanus knew this all too well as he made his way onto the steps of the prestigious school, hearing the whispers of students. They were all well aware of Corio's new, unfortunate task he had been handed.

Welcoming the new student.

He gripped onto the white rose he had brought for the new girl, huffing in frustration while opening the door. Had the gods above seriously subjected Coriolanus to this much humility? He couldn't believe he had to waste time on someone lower than him, much less someone from the Districts. Corio prayed no one would see him with the mutt.

He turned the corner, only to find more gossiping girls and blathering boys talking about his misfortune. He kept his head held high as he crossed the hallway, making sure he didn't show his internal perturbation.

Opening the door, the smell of fish wafted into his nose. Coriolanus couldn't help but make a displeased face as he walked up to the District Four girl. He hid his dissatisfaction as soon as it showed and put on his best act, handing the girl the rose.

"Welcome to the academy, Ms. Y/N." Coriolanus smiled, though on the inside he would rather be focusing on his studies or perhaps sending the girl home so he wouldn't have to deal with her.

The girl gave him a shy smile and chuckled slightly. "Seems like everyone here knows who I am, yet I can't seem to get anyone's name."

Perhaps that's because you don't belong here... Coriolanus thought. He offered her a fake chuckle in return and looked into her eyes, "Coriolanus Snow, nice to meet you." It was anything but nice.

The girl herself wasn't much to look at. Corio couldn't find anything special about her, not even in the way she spoke. The girls father, however? He was very special. District Four's mayor, now elected official, Caspian Watercreste. The man had millions of dollars in his pocket, and Coriolanus would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in using his daughter to get to him.

Y/N continued to ramble on about her past and how excited she was to start fresh in The Capitol. Coriolanus paid no attention, however. He was much too focused on planning his attempt at dipping his toes into her fathers million dollar pool. He couldn't help but smirk at himself, feeling proud of his idea.

Then, it hit him.

"Y/N," Coriolanus gently rested his hand on her shoulder, using as much charm as he could muster. "There's a lot of people here who might want to use you for... your money. I would hate to see that happen, as I'm sure you would too." He paused to see her reaction. "If you stick by me, I swear nothing bad will happen."

Coriolanus wasn't lying. She was far too trusting right off the bat and based off of looks alone, the girl looked like she needed a bit of protecting. She needed him.

"I think I can handle a couple of kids, Coriolanus." Y/N raised her eyebrow and smirked. "If you wanted to be friends, you could've just said so."

Coriolanus felt a tinge of embarrassment as the girl smirked at him. He didn't like the way she talked back. He would have to work on that.

"Where's the fun in that?" He played along, "Come on, I heard you like to read. Let me show you the library."

He offered her his arm, and they walked out, back into the busy hallway. The kids gave Coriolanus odd looks, but within a month? They'd wish they were him...

[crowandmousewritingco]

Summer Days of Dorne

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x gn!reader (Ellaria is mentioned to be involved.)

Words: 963

Rating G (It Oberyn come on. There's a little sexy flirty happening.)

Warnings: Oberyn being Oberyn, but this one is pretty chill.

Summary: Dorne is known for its hot summers so you take comfort in a nice cool pool. Though you catch the attention of a certain Prince.

Author: Mod Mouse

Note: Heres my first fanfiction in awhile and the first work on Crow and Mouse Writing Co. I hope you all enjoy 😋

Summer has always been your favorite season. It was a welcomed relief after the dark and cold winters of your hometown. And now that you lived in Dorne, the kingdom rarely left the summer season. Although on days like today you wished for cooler temperatures. The heat had become unbearable making the castle too muggy for your afternoon reading sessions. That’s when you decided that a dip in the pool would solve all of your heat related problems which was where you found yourself now. 

You dipped your toes into the cool pool with a sigh. The perfect weather was amazing but when the sun beat down a little too long then you started to wish for the cooler summers of your hometown. You let your face lean back on your hands taking in the rays of the sun. Lazy days like this were few and far between since you became the prince of Dorne. Of course Oberyn was more than happy to help you relax, but nothing felt better than cool water on a hot day. Even if something was bothering you, Oberyn would be there to give you some quick loving. And honestly you couldn’t be more happy about it. 

After sunning yourself for a couple more minutes, you stood up and finally let the see through robe fall onto the stones behind you. You slowly slipped into the pool, sighing as the cool water took away the summer heat. The water doing nothing to cover your nudity although you didn’t really mind. If it wasn’t for Oberyn showing you that it was okay to show off your body, you would have been stuck in the historic ways of your hometown. You let yourself lazily glide through the water before deciding that floating on your back sounded like the best idea. You stayed on your back for a moment staring up at the beautiful sky. The clouds slowly drifted across your vision creating and disappearing in a moment's notice. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you held one and sank under the surface. 

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

Meanwhile Oberyn had just left a meeting he wasn’t entirely thrilled about being called to. Doran needed him to witness some important trade agreements, but Oberyn didn’t think that way. Meetings meant time away from his partners and that was something he wasn’t too keen on. Now that he was free from his responsibility he began his search for you. Oberyn started with the normal spots– the bedroom, library and the garden– but no sign of you. He was ready to go upstairs when he spotted you swimming in the pool. His hungry eyes took in your moving body watching as your muscles moved. His eyes glinted with a spark of mischievousness and he hurried to join you by the pool. After the day he had had, he was ready to have his hands on you. 

You hadn’t noticed that he had approached the pool until you heard him say, “Well I didn’t know we had mermaids in our pool,” Oberyn chuckled as he squatted at the edge of the pool. Turning towards the voice, you opened your eyes and smiled at the sight of your husband. 

“A pool is no place for a mermaid. We must swim free in the salty waves of the ocean,” you playfully replied before swimming over to him. 

Oberyn smirked in return, “I think the best place for a mermaid is in my bed.” 

“Wouldn’t that make your bed too wet?” You teased titling your head to the side. 

“Oh I think my bed gets wet enough with you and Ellaria in it.” Oberyn teased flirtatiously knowing what the two of you were like during last night's activities. 

You couldn’t help but blush at his words. Damn he always knew how to make you shiver. How with just a few words he could make you weak in knees and ready to do whatever he asked. Oberyn had that power over you, and so did Ellaria, but even Ellaria wasn’t immune to Oberyn’s antics. 

“I don’t doubt your abilities but why wait when you can take your mermaid in their own domain.” You replied with an edge of invitation to it. Nothing would please more than for your husband to take you where anyone could walk in and see you.

Oberyn raised his eyebrows as if he was about to question you, but quickly he smiled at the idea. Oberyn’s golden robes were quickly discarded, and your eyes couldn’t help but roam his fit body. All the scars from his past battles were on display for your eyes, and all you wanted to do was to kiss every single one of them. He sat down on the edge and quickly slipped in beside you. Wasting no time putting his hands on you to pull you in for a long kiss. You smiled and kissed him, letting your hands rest on his chest

You broke the kiss and spoke just loud enough for him to hear you, “Someone missed me,” You teased. 

“I always miss you when you aren’t in my arms,” Oberyn purred and nuzzled his face into your neck. “Maybe I should ask the Maesters if there’s a way to keep you attached to me.” 

You chuckled and kissed his cheek before dragging your lips up his cheek, stopping just before his ear. A smirk found its way across your face, opening your mouth, just slightly you dragged your teeth across his ear lobe and whispered, “Well I can think of one way that you can stay attached to me.” 

Oberyn let out a soft moan and pushed you up against the pool wall, kissing you with the heat of the sun itself. What a wonderful summer this was going to be. 

[fuck-john-calvin]

Because of some cool art you made I want to dip my toe into the Mechanisms.

where do I find the story?

So I don't know how much you know about them, but the basics are:

The Mechanisms is a band in which each member has a persona. They are a crew of immortal space pirates, roaming the galaxy in search of violence, fun, and stories to tell. Each persona character can be referred to as a mechanism, as in a member of the crew, but they each also have a mechanism, a clockwork prosthetic of some sort that was installed after they each had their own tragic story and made them immortal.

When they find a good, long, juicy tragedy, they turn it into an album. They also have two anthology albums, with some songs connecting to the wider stories and some completely independent of them, and a couple containing mechanisms lore. Their last album is from the live show of their final performance.

All of these albums stand on their own, and there is no particular order you need to listen to them in. They each contain characters and places from classic stories, putting unique sci-fi spins on them all and following queer narratives. I'd say bury your gays, but honestly, it's more like bury your gays and the entire planet they lived on, along with everything they ever held dear.

here's a summary of each, stolen from the mechs blurbs themselves:

Once Upon a Time (In Space)-

This tale tells of those embroiled in the rebellion against the tyrant of New Constantinople, Old King Cole. It tells of the love of Cinders for her captured Rose, of the treatment of Rose at the hands of Cole's genetic scientists, and of the bold but savage leadership of the rebel General Snow. And it tells of the final fates of all of these.

fairy tale but make it a rebellion. their first album, contains many of their most popular songs. solid. not personally one of my favorites, but the one I'm most likely to be listening to a song from on any given day. our boy jack and pump shanty are excellent.

High Noon Over Camelot-

A tale of hope and despair aboard the Fort Galfridian, long lost to the outside world, where the chaos of centuries of solitude has been brought in check at last by the guns of the Pendragon Gang. But the visions of the mad prophet Galahad, and the schemes of the Pendragons' lieutenants Mordred and Gawain, threaten to cast the station back into anarchy. And all the while, the Sun grows hotter...

arthurian legend has just become a space westerner in which everyone rides motorcycles and a fiery death threatens them all. haven't listened to it yet, but I've heard great things. Blood and Whiskey is a banger, and Arthur, Lancelot, and Guinevere are in a polycule, something I didn't know I needed until I heard it suggested.

Ulysses Dies At Dawn-

Ulysses Dies at Dawn. That's the word on the street, at any rate, if you talk to anyone who saw what went down at Calypso's Bar the other night. Who is behind the thuggish band known as the Suits - Heracles, Ariadne and the others? What is Ulysses's secret? And what is hidden within the security of the Vault?

I'm going to be completely honest with you. I think this is no-contest their best album. It's greek mythology in noir film style, with heavy usage of blues and rock. I don't even like blues, but I love each and every song. This one is also a little easier to follow than the others. I'd recommend starting here.

The Bifrost Incident-

The Bifrost Incident. Any schoolchild could tell you about it. The fall of the old order; two hundred years of Asgardian hubris come together in a single epoch-defining event. The maiden voyage of a train through the stars, vanished without a trace...

Remember how I think the last one was the best one? Well, this is still my favorite. Norse mythology framed as a mystery on a train, with a twist completely out of left field that leaves you reeling. Thus, it is probably the most difficult to follow, or at least, it was for me. The art you liked-which wasn't mine, unfortunately, credit to the artists is on the post if you want to check those blogs out-featured variations of the narrator from this album. let's just say I'm. not so normal about them.

well. ANYWAYS. this was...probably longer than what you wanted. Or than what I should have given. I don't get asks a lot and an excuse to talk about the mechanisms is always something I am willing to abuse.

If you do end up listening to any of their music, please tell me what you think! I'd love to hear it, and it's always nice to talk about them with someone else :)

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley) (Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 26

For some reason, I wasn’t brave enough to venture over to Haley’s house and confront her just yet. Part of me was still mad at her actions and doing a 180 with her feelings. She is hardcore playing with my feelings but I have been dying to hear her say those words. I wanted her to admit that she wants to be with me and that she is attracted to me.

The whole rest of the day was just me daydreaming about the morning. It wasn’t until just after dinner that I decided I’m going to go to the saloon for the night and see if they are all hanging out there. They’ll freak out when they hear the news.

“Howdy!” I say, announcing my arrival to the arcade. Just as I thought, everyone has decided to meet up. We were just missing Haley and Abigail unfortunately.

“Hi!” A chorus of their voices call out.

Trying too hard to keep the excitement in, I keep trying to stifle my grin. As good as I think I’m doing, everyone clocks me immediately.

“What’s up with you Danny? Why are you smiling funny?” Maru questions me.

“Ahhh you know. This and that,” I slyly say, trying to act cool.

“Something is up. What are you hiding from us?” Leah gasps, “Oh my god are you pregnant?!”

This causes the whole room to erupt with laughter. I just shake my head and laugh along with them.

“No seriously. What is it you are hiding?” Elliot cuts the laughter off with a serious tone.

“Well if you MUST know…a certain someone may have finally dipped their toes in the water with me…” I say nonchalantly.

A million questions start being asked that I can’t keep up with. I try listening to each person but everyone talks over each other.

“It might’ve been more of a dip. More like a splash. But not in the physical sense of us doing things…it was just a confession. A really big one. She let it all out to me today that I’m still processing what she said exactly,” I say, hoping to answer everyone’s questions.

Everyone had finally quieted down to hear my explanation. Sebastian lets out a hoot of excitement and the rest join in. They really are a loud bunch.

For some reason, my eyes drift towards Alex alone in the corner. I see him smiling brightly and joining in with everyone else on the hollering. He seems genuinely happy for me, and I hate that I was ever mad at him. I understand he was in a tough position with his feelings and was in the same boat with Haley. The two of them have come so far and I hope they both feel more like themselves.

He sees me looking at him and shoots me a wink and a thumbs up. I send a thumbs up his way in return. I mouth the words thank you to him, hoping he can read lips. I see his face contort into a look of confusion but he shrugs it off and keeps smiling.

“You know what you need to do now? Bring her a bouquet of flowers from Pierre’s!” Penny chimes in. “Bringing someone a bouquet indicates romantic interest in Pelican Town. It’s a tradition!”

“Why have I never gotten a bouquet?” Sam’s face falls as he looks to Sebastian. He starts giving Sebastian the sweetest puppy dog eyes, trying to make him feel bad for not getting him a bouquet.

“Fine I’ll get you a bouquet,” Sebastian gives in, rolling his eyes playfully. Sam pumps his fist in the air.

“It’s just like if you were to get her a Mermaid Pendant. Pelican Town folks give our partners a Mermaid Pendant from a creepy Old Mariner that shows up on rainy days,” Elliot smiles menacingly.

“As a sign of romantic interest?” I question him.

“Oh don’t listen to Elliot. That’s how you PROPOSE to someone in Pelican Town,” Leah informs me while giving Elliot a scolding nudge.

“I’m still creeped out by the story of the Old Mariner. None of us have ever had to go see him but we’ve heard stories,” Maru adds.

“Well I think I’m going to start with the bouquet,” I say sarcastically to Elliot.

“If you think that’s best,” Elliot shrugs as he lets out a laugh.

“You can get one from Pierre first thing tomorrow,” Penny tells me.

“So have you guys done anything freaky yet?” Sam all of a sudden asks. My face goes beat red.

“That’s never going to happen any time soon. She only just accepted her sexuality. She isn’t going to want to do anything let that. We will probably take it slow,” I nervously reply.

“Well you guys already made out to some extent whether you remember it or not. That counts for something,” Leah adds.

“I give it a week,” Shane grumbles from his usual place beside the fireplace. He has been eavesdropping the whole time. I feel my face heat up even more.

“Guys chill! It’s not going to be anything like that. You guys see how Haley is with me,” I try to explain. Everyone raises an eyebrow and awkwardly scratches their head. I hear a few faint coughs as well.

“Yeah, that doesn’t really help your case. We do see how she is around you that’s why we are giving it a week…” Elliot whispers to me.

“I don’t know what you guys are seeing but you gotta get your heads out of the gutter,” I disappointedly shake my head but let out a chuckle to let them know I’m only joking.

“Alright, you better get home before you burst with embarrassment. I know you are dying to sleep so you can run over to Pierre’s first thing in the morning,” Leah takes me by the shoulders and turns me to the door.

“Damn right. Bye guys!” I yell back as I speed walk to the door.

I’m hoping that when I get home and my head hits the pillow I can fall right asleep. I don’t want her waiting another day for me to show my interest in her. She may start thinking I don’t like her back!

What if I'm too late and she has changed her mind? I begin overthinking.

Will she still like me tomorrow? Maybe she was just in a state of delusion and she didn’t know she confessed?

I try to shake the thoughts from my brain but I can’t help overthinking. I really want this to work out. This is the first time I have ever put effort into trying to be with a girl. Haley is different from everyone I have ever met and I don’t want to mess this up.

[beatingdrumspouringwine]

Communication with the Gods

This is related to this post that I reblogged a few nights ago, which talked about how vocal folks on the internet can be about talking to the Gods, and also how this can sometimes be a little misleading. After reblogging it, I started to think about my own interactions and relationship with the Gods, and how they too don't often fit the internet's view of Godly interactions, and figured that I would share a bit about my own practice to show that face-to-face talking with Gods isn't necessarily the only way one can commune with Them.

To start off, I'll say that when I was first dipping my toes into Hellenic Polytheism, I was with groups that were very vocal about the Gods always talking to them. It was the kind of thing where they would be talking about having full-fledged conversations, or tea parties with the Gods, which caused me to put a lot of pressure on myself to experience the same. It definitely took a while after all that to have a relatively normal relationship with my Gods. As of right now, the vast majority of the time that I pray to the Gods, I feel and hear nothing. Maybe I'll have a sense of inner peace, but I think that comes from within more than anything else. Something about the rhythms in the way the prayers are spoken is soothing to me.

Hermes tends to take a very subtle approach in His interactions with me. Sometimes I know He's there only because I hit more green lights than I was expecting, or a car ride went smoother than the traffic would allow. Sometimes I find coins laying on the ground, heads-up, after a particularly successful trip, or after a desperate prayer to Him; or I find items that have been lost for a while, sitting in a very conspicuous place. Hermes isn't subtle, but He also isn't very obvious. It's almost as if He moves when my back is turned, and when I turn around again, there's a very faint sense that maybe someone was there.

Dionysos, meanwhile, has been a bit more There for me. Sometimes, there's a heavier presence to Him being around, almost as if a person is standing in the space with me. Other times, I won't feel a presence, but rather an intense emotion, that I usually can't quite place. For me, it feels like something akin to the type of madness shown in the Bacchae, although I'm fully aware of my state, if that makes sense. Rarely, I've felt His hands around mine when I pray, although it's more of a pressure than the physical feeling of hands (it's all about vibes!).

The few times I've had an experience that was a deeper communication, they were relatively abstract. One time, it came as a sudden rush of realization on a cruise ship that the Gods love us (that will be another post, lol). A few times, it's been strangely intense dreams, in which I wake up from them and have a strong feeling that it meant something, one of which led me to create this blog. And the One Singular time I have ever heard a God (Dionysos) speak directly to me, it was only one sentence, while I was trying to take a nap, and I was able to feel His presence for a while afterwards.

Anyways, this has come as a bit of a ramble, but I think the overall point that my ADHD-addled mind is trying to make is that the Gods communicate in many different ways, and not all of them are direct God-to-human talking. It's more like subtle communications that say "I'm here, I've never left you." There's something to be said, and I think this idea stretches across multiple religions, about just being still and quiet with your Gods, and the Gods being there in that silence. If we really think about it, animals have only been able to hear for about 275 million years. That's almost no time compared to the age of Earth (4 billion years), and the universe (13 billion years), and the Gods were around even before that. They lived for so long in the silence, and They are there with you in the silence as well. <3

[searchingforgravity]

Love Me Tender PART 1(Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: You are in the front row in an Elvis concert when he starts singing Love Me Tender, starting towards the sea of women. At the blink of an eye, he is suddenly over you, looking in your eyes as he leans down for a kiss. You decide to give it your all as you kiss him with as much need as you feel in that moment. You aren't expecting him to pull you in for another kiss, sparking something within the two of you.

TW: Smut, sex, handjob, fingering, dry humping, praise kink, dirty talk

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Word Count: 6361

A/N: This is a long one, but I got inspired to write this by Elvis' Love Me Tender performance. Also, Vegas era Elvis has me in a death grip.

You feel his lips soft against yours. You can't help the flutter in your heart as you stand on your tip toes. This is a once in a lifetime chance, and you're not planning on waisting a single second of it. Ignoring the fact that there are hundreds of eyes on the two of you, you deepen the kiss, pressing your lips hard onto his warm, plush ones as your tongue comes in contact with his bottom lip. You feel him pull away before snapping your eyes open, the roar of the crowd still in the background as you lock eyes with him. Slight surprise plays on his features before a smirk forms on his mouth, those damn hypnotizing blue eyes penetrate yours before he drops his gaze to your lips. Before you can register what's happening, he is dipping his head down to you again, his lips connecting to yours with more urgency than before. A shock of pleasure shoots through you as he gently places his large hand on the side of your face, causing you to sigh into his mouth. Much too soon for your liking, he removes himself from you before continuing down the stage, kissing women as he went.

You are so shocked, you just stand there with your mouth slightly agape, trying to process what just happened. You had just kissed Elvis Presley, and he kissed you a second time. The sounds of the people around snap you back to your senses as your best friend, Amy, shakes your shoulder. The noise is suddenly too much as you have to strain to hear what she is yelling at you. "Oh my God! Elvis Presley just kissed you!" She screams in your ear, but it sounds far away as you're still paralyzed from what just happened. "(Y/N)!" Amy shouts, shaking your arm more aggressively. This snaps you out of your trance as a wave of exhilaration runs through you, plastering a stupid smile across your face as you turn to her. "Oh my God!" you shout, yelling like a school girl as your cheeks flush a bright crimson.

The rest of the show goes by in a blur, with you and Amy clinging to each other and screaming as your childhood crush traipses around the room, teasing every woman at the concert. You are about to yell over to Amy when you hear an "Excuse me, miss." You look in the direction from where you heard this male voice and see a tall man towering over you with fire engine red hair. You would later discover that this man's name is 'Red' West, and that he's Elvis' friend and bodyguard. He looks at you inquisitively before leaning in slightly, trying to keep what he is saying private. "Mr. Presley would like to see you after the show."

You can almost feel your heart stop at this. You couldn't have possibly heard him right. You look up on stage to find Elvis on the far end, preoccupied with the crowd. You look back at Red and he is watching you, waiting for an answer. "W-What?" You say back, loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough to be somewhat discreet. You assume he doesn't want to arouse suspicion as he simply asks "What is your answer?"

After finally wrapping your head around the idea that Elvis wants to see you after the show, all you can do is vigorously nod your head. This makes him smirk a little to himself before he gently takes your arm as he starts to lead you away. You convince him to let you take your friend with you and after he looks your friend up and down, it doesn't take him long to agree before you are both being led backstage. After what seems like hours of weaving through the crowd, you arrive to a lounge area with about two dozen people. Some of which you recognize as the as the Memphis Mafia with their arms slung around various women, some giddy and hanging on their every word, and some talking amongst themselves. There are various men there as well as their eyes land on you and Amy as you walk in, giving the two of you the once-over. You suddenly become self conscious as you turn to Red. "Please, help yourselves to any food or drinks you wish. Elvis should be done within the next 20 minutes," Red says as he motions to a corner in the room with various alcohol and snacks.

After you and Amy grab a drink, you huddle together and observe the room of people, talking amongst yourselves. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening," she whispers in your ear, her eyes wide as she stands there, starstruck. You aren't much better as your nerves start bubbling up to the surface. Your mind keeps coming back to the fact that Elvis wants to see you after the show. Just the thought of it makes your stomach flip. Your eyes trail over the room with half a dozen women and you wonder if you're one of many women he inquired about.

The rest of his set goes by quickly and you are suddenly standing alone. Amy demanded that she was to stay by your side but one of Elvis' friends, Jerry, couldn't take his eyes off her. He asked if she wanted to talk over by the sofas and he seemed like a genuinely good man, so you told her to go enjoy herself. After some hesitation, she smiled softly at him before joining him on one of the sofas. You now cradle your drink in your hands, much too nervous to consume it. The music had stopped and everyone is now waiting with bated breath for the superstar to walk into the room. After some commotion, Elvis finally appears through the opening and you can't help the gasp that leaves your lips.

His eyes are slightly drooped with exertion, his face flushed and his exposed chest glistening with sweat. His swollen, pouty lips are parted as he pants softly, taking a white handkerchief from one of his entourage as he brings it to his face. People start crowding around him, congratulating him as he makes his way to the far side of the room for some water. "Thank you, honey," he breathes to a woman about your age, who is practically hanging on his arm, telling him how amazing he did. You quickly look away from the scene, the stinging bite of jealousy coursing through you. He probably invited her backstage, too. You suddenly feel stupid that you'd expected anything from being invited back here tonight. A good 15 minutes go by of him mingling with people as you look over at Amy, who is completely engrossed in what Jerry is saying to her, his hand resting on the dip in her back. You turn your attention back to your drink as you swirl the liquid around in the glass, bringing it to your lips.

"Hey, beautiful," you hear, suddenly pulled out of your thoughts. You look up in the direction of the voice and see none other than Elvis' eyes looking back at you. It takes you by such surprise that you choke on your drink, throwing yourself into a fit of coughing. He quirks an eyebrow at you as a soft chuckle leaves his lips. "Didn't mean to scare ya', honey," he chuckles as he leans closer to you. Your eyes scan the room for the woman he was just with, and you find her engaged with another man, though she doesn't look enthused. Your eyes widen slightly as he inches forward, making a private area for you both as his body creates a barrier from you to the rest of the room. Your cheeks flush at his boldness as you take a step back out of reflex. "I-I'm sorry. I just- you caught me off guard..." you trail, humiliation playing on your face from stumbling your words in front of him. This is your first conversation and you're already messing it up.

"That's alright, darlin', you don't gotta be nervous," he says lowly, as his eyes sweep over your face, landing on your lips. "You certainly weren't at the show tonight," he mumbles as he pulls his gaze away from your lips to look in your eyes again. He is so close to you, that you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. Your cheeks flush again as you back up once more, your head suddenly dizzy. "I didn't know you'd like it so much," you say before you think. He smirks at your response, his eyes darkening the slightest bit. "A kiss like that? You really know how to make a man want you," he breathes as he inches closer again, your back hitting the wall as you back up more, your breath catching in your throat. "Hey E.P., get over here! I want you to meet someone!" a man shouts from behind you two. An exasperated groan leaves his lips as he looks at you for a second longer. "Wait for me," he says, his eyes suddenly pleading with you. You can only nod as you gaze up at him. Your head is spinning from his closeness, and you think that in that moment you would do anything he asked you to. Then, in an instant, he turns and joins one of his friends as they introduce him to a bombshell of a woman.

You exhale the breath you'd been holding, your face flushing at the intimacy of what just happened. Your eyes search desperately for Amy who is now tucked away in a corner of the room with Jerry. You rush over to her, and when you approach the two, they are so engrossed in each other that she doesn't notice you standing beside her. "Amy," you call sternly at her side. She is smiling stupidly at something Jerry has just told her. "Yes?" she says in a sing song voice, her eyes never leaving his. "Uh, I need to talk to you...alone."

At this, she pulls her eyes away from him to look at you. "I'll be right back. Will you wait for me?" she breathes to Jerry and he takes her hand in his, giving it a tender kiss. "Of course." You are then pulling her to an abandoned hallway. Your blood is suddenly heating up as you think of a plan. "What?" Amy hisses, clearly annoyed you had pulled her away from Jerry. "What are you, in love with him or something?" you retort in a hushed voice. She rolls her eyes as she cocks her eyebrow at you, waiting for you to get the the point. You huff as you try to sort through your thoughts.

"We need to leave," you start as you look for the exit. "What?!" she says loudly, prompting you to shush her. "Are you crazy?!" she hisses in a whisper. "No! Amy...I think Elvis wants to spend the night with me," you whisper harshly causing her jaw to drop. "Why the hell would you want to leave?! You really are cra-" she starts before stopping in her tracks, her eyes widening. You are about to ask her what's wrong when you hear a familiar voice from behind you. "Hello ladies. I hope I'm not interrupting."

Your body goes stiff as a smirk forms on Amy's face. "Absolutely not, Mr. Presley!" she chimes, giving him her award winning smile. It sometimes annoys you how much of a people person she is. You turn to look at Elvis and his eyes instantly land on yours, lingering there for a moment. "Jerry was just asking for you, sweet heart," He says to Amy as he pulls his gaze away from you, her face instantly lighting up. "Why, thank you," she says as she starts sauntering down the hall. In a last attempt to stop her, you grab to the fabric of her arm before she pulls away swiftly, leaving you alone in the hall with Elvis.

You swallow at the short silence that follows, looking towards the room of people, unaware of you and Elvis in the hall together. Your breathing becomes shallow as Elvis returns his gaze to you, taking a step closer. Your eyes snap to his as you stand stiff. Even in your current state of anxiety, you can't help the thrill that runs through you at this gorgeous man desiring you. "I thought I said to wait for me, little girl," he breathes, taking another step towards you, causing you to feel the warmth of his body. You take a small step backwards at his advance. He notices this, but makes no attempt to stop his advances, inching closer until he has you trapped between the wall behind you and his arms, which now rest on the wall on either side of your body.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd've thought you're scared of me," he whispers, now so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your face. You can't take his gaze anymore as you look down, your mind completely muddled as you try to think of a way out of this. You don't hook up with people, it's just not who you are. Even if in this moment, you wanted nothing more than to feel his hands on you. "N-No, I just- I have to leave soon. My boyfriend will be-" you lie in an attempt to stop his advances. A soft laugh leaves his plush lips, interrupting your sentence. "Aw, now c'mon, honey. You're gonna hafta do a little better than that," he pokes as he inches ever so closer, your bodies almost touching.

"If you really don't want me, just say so," he mumbles as he dips his head down to your ear, his lips ghosting just over the shell, causing a slight tickle. "But I'd very much enjoy your company tonight." Your cheeks flush at this as your mind spins. You bring your hands to his chest in an attempt to push him away, but he is quick to grasp at your wrist, keeping it on him as it slips through the fabric to his bare chest, causing you to feel his heartbeat, it's pace quicker than you anticipated. You gasp softly at this as you are stunned in place, your hand soft on his chest.

"I-I'm not that kinda girl," you whisper, your voice suddenly failing you as your mouth runs dry. "I'm sure there are many girls in there that can give you what you want," you breathe out, bringing your gaze up to his. He looks back at you and you can see pure desire in his gaze as he looks at you longingly. "I want you," he whispers as his hand leaves your wrist, trailing to your cheek as he cradles your face gently in his hand.

You are just about to protest when he leans down, connecting his lips to yours. Another small gasp leaves your mouth as you grab at the fabric of his jumpsuit, preparing to push him away. He can sense your plans as his hand leaves your face, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you flush against him, deepening the kiss. Suddenly, your self restraint snaps as you feel him hard against your thigh. You sigh at this, wrapping your hands around his neck, pulling him down to your height as you open your mouth to give him access to you. A soft groan leaves his mouth as he stumbles slightly at the surprise of your action, before quickly regaining his composure, his tongue slipping into your mouth and quickly connecting with yours.

The kiss is heated and needy as his hands come to your hips, squeezing slightly. His tongue swirls around yours as he claims dominance over it, causing a soft moan to escape your throat. Your face flushes at the sound and this snaps you back to reality as you push him away, suddenly gasping for air as it's become hard to breathe. He tries pulling you back to him, his breathing now quick and heated as he leans down to connect his lips to yours. "No! It's- there are people here," you hiss, using all of your strength to resist him. "Come to my room with me," he begs as he pulls you impossibly close, making you feel the strain of his cock in his white jumpsuit. Your face flushes as you consider this, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in hesitation.

"Elvis," you whisper, your hand coming back to his chest, not to push him away, but to feel the fast pace of his heart. He rests his left hand over top of yours as his other comes to the wall by your face. "Say you will," he mumbles, leaning over you. You will yourself to look in his eyes and they are looking back at you with a wanting you've never experienced from another man. In that moment, you know you'll stay the night with him. "Hey E.P.- oh, sorry," you hear from your right side as you both turn in the direction of the voice, still entangled in each other. You see Jerry standing there in the opening as you pull away from Elvis, him clearing his throat softly as he runs his hand through his hair. "What, Jer?" Elvis questions, slight irritation in his voice.

"Well, I was just gonna say- a few of us are going to go out if you and (y/n) wanna come." Anxiety courses through you at his words, knowing that now Elvis would have you all to himself with no more interruptions. "I actually think we're gonna retire for the night, but have a good time." Mortification floods your senses as Jerry nods knowingly. "Right well, see ya' later. Nice to meet you (y/n)." With that it's just you and Elvis again. This time, the connected room is empty, you hadn't even noticed people starting to leave. Elvis gently takes your hand as he leads you down the hall, through the lounge room. When you arrive at an elevator, your heart is pounding in your chest as he presses the button leading upstairs.

You avoid his gaze as you look down, your hand in his. The silence that falls between you two is a little awkward. You are wracking your brain for something to say when he beats you to it. "Have you never done this before?" Your face flushes as you look up at him. You are surprised to see a soft smirk on his face. It makes you scoff as you reply "Sorry, I don't usually sleep around with men I've just met." He holds up his hand in defense as a soft chuckle escapes his lip. "Didn't mean no harm by it, darlin'."

Suddenly, the elevator dings as the doors open. "Ladies first," he mumbles as he kisses your cheek, the suddenness of it making you blush as you step in the elevator. As he steps in, he presses the penthouse floor, snaking his arm around your waist, feeling your body tense. "Baby, relax. I ain't gonna hurt ya'...unless you like that kinda thing," he mumbles as he dips down to kiss your cheek again. You roll your eyes at this, but relax into his touch, a soft sigh leaving your lips. "There she is," he mumbles as he turns you towards him, his lips trailing slowly down to your neck, gently suckling on it. You gasp at the sensation as your hands reflexively fly to his neck. He quickly pulls you closer and your thigh comes in contact with his clothed cock again, impossibly hard.

You decide to gently rub against him, now desperate for some friction as his kisses are getting you hot and bothered. He gasps when he feels this, pulling you closer than before, his hands cautiously coming to rest on your ass. You surprise yourself when you pull his face up to yours, kissing him with a new urgency. A groan leaves his throat as he kisses you back hard. The kiss is sloppy as he tangles his hands in your hair, grinding himself onto you as he plunges his tongue in your mouth, forcing it past your lips. A small whine escapes from you as you pull him down to you further, your hands still wrapped around his neck. He groans into your mouth again when he feels you bite down on his bottom lip, the sound causing lust to course through you.

The ding of the elevator forces you two to pull away from each other reluctantly. "C'mon, honey," he groans as he grabs your hand, practically dragging you down the hall. He unlocks the door swiftly as he pulls you inside. You stop for a moment as you see how beautiful the room is. It has a window wall overlooking the city, and is beautifully decorated, with gold and royal blues. He sighs as he nearly collapses on the couch, and you can see the exhaustion return to his face from the show. You walk over to him as you sit down, straddling his lap. "For someone who's never down this before, you sure do learn quick," he jokes as he smirks up at you. You roll your eyes at this. "You know what, maybe I have changed my mind..." you joke as you start to get off him. His hands come to grasp your thighs, keeping you in place.

A comfortable silence fills the room as you gaze down at him. He gently squeezes your thighs as his thumbs massage them. "You're so pretty," he mumbles as he looks up at you. You smile softly as you hesitantly bring your hand up to his hair. He sighs as he leans into your touch, now desperate for it as you fully thread your fingers through his damp locks. His hands trail to your waist as he leans his torso up to you, his lips reaching for yours, quivering the slightest bit from desire. You gladly connect your lips to his as you lean into him. The kiss starts out gently, but quickly turn into something more heated as his tongue invades your mouth for the third time that night.

He groans softly as you grind your hips into his, the kiss quickly turning into a make out session as you basically shoves your tongues down each others throat, moving in rhythm. He brings his hands to cup your cheeks as he smashes your mouth to his even harder than before, bucking his hips up to meet yours. A whine escapes your mouth at this as your hands come to rest on the back of the couch.

You gasp softly, when his hand slips under your dress to your panties. "Is this okay?" he mumbles against your lips as he pauses momentarily. You nod your head vigorously, causing him to laugh softly. He dips his hand under your panties to feel the slick between your legs, gasping at how completely soaked you are. "Jesus," he groans as he finds your clit, coating it with his now wet fingers as he circles it softly, his lips coming to kiss your neck.

You suck in a stuttering breath at this, grinding into his hand. A moan falls from your mouth as he picks up the pace. "That feel good, mama?" he groans as he nibbles on your neck, making your face flush. "Y-Yeah," you stutter quietly, your face beet red. "You embarrassed?" he mutters, slowing down his movements at your tone. He pulls his face away from your neck to look in your eyes, seeing how red you are. After a moment of debating with himself, he pulls his hand away from you. "No! Don't stop-" you start before he interrupts you. "Calm down, little honey. Let's go to the bedroom, I want ya' to be comfortable."

After collecting yourself off of him and leading you to his room, he looks at you for a moment. "Lay down for me," he mumbles, but as you go to, he catches your wrist in his hand. "Wait," he whispers softly as he glides his hands down your body. Your breath catches in your throat as he plays with the hem of your dress, inching it up until it's around your waist, his eyes on yours the whole time. Slowly, you lift your hands above your head so he can take it off the rest of the way.

Insecurity runs though you as he gazes at your body, now only covered in your bra and panties. You see his adams apple bob slightly in his throat as he swallows harshly. Your breath hitches as he drops to his knees in front of you, still fully clothed in his exposing suit. The sight is enough for you to come undone then and there. He brings his eyes up to yours in his new position, his eyes blown with lust as he leans forward, softly kissing your navel. His hands are warm on you as he softly dips them under the lace of your underwear, his eyes still on you for approval. You nod quickly, causing him to gently pull them down your legs. When they are completely off, he dips his head down and you feel his tongue on you.

You gasp as you reflexively pull back, making him bring his hands to your hips, keeping them in place as he licks a thick stripe up your opening to your clit, circling his tongue around it. Your hands come to his head as you try to hold your balance, pleasure coursing through you at the feeling of his tongue. He moans softly as he feels you pull his hair, pulling his face away from you as he kissing up your stomach. You groan in frustration, this now being the second time he's stopped in the middle of pleasing you.

He quirks an eyebrow as you now stands again, his lips kissing the valley between your breasts. "What, baby?" he asks innocently as if he doesn't know exactly what he's doing. You huff as you avoid his eyes, refusing to answer. He tsks teasingly as his hands come around to unhook your bra. "Now, honey. If we're gonna be together this way, you gotta tell me what's on your mind," he mutters in your ear as he slips yours bra off, letting it fall to the floor. "Don't tease me, Elvis," you groan, breathless. You feel the smirk on his lips as he kisses your shoulder. "That's my favorite part, watchin' you quiverin' for me," he mumbles, his hands softly cupping your breasts as he pulls away to look at them, swiping his thumbs over your sensitive nipples.

You just watch him, paralyzed where you stand, arousal now pooling in your core. He leans down, kissing them softly before releasing them, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. "Lay down, honey," he croaks, his voice suddenly strained. You lay down as you're told and watch him struggle to get his suit off. "Come here," you say, finding your voice, causing him to look over to you. He obliges as he comes to the side of the bed. Leaning over, you trail your hands up his suit, resting them momentarily on his bare chest. You impulsively lean forward, placing soft, open mouthed kissing along his pecs, causing him to run his fingers through your hair.

After another moment of admiring his body, you push the fabric off his shoulders as he helps with the belt. A surprised gasp falls from your lips at seeing him not wearing any underwear as he stands before you now completely naked. "C'mere mama," he mumbles, hunger in his voice as he bends down, capturing your lips in his. Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation, pulling him on top of you. He follows your lead as he climbs over you on the bed, spreading your thighs with his strong, slightly calloused hands as he kneels in between them.

Your heart begins to race again as you softly drag your nails along his back, bringing your lips to his desperately. A small groan leaves his lips as he settles on top of you, his hands roaming around your naked form. He kisses you tenderly as he travels his long fingers in between your heat, finding your clit swiftly. You can't help but whine into his mouth as you reach around his neck, pulling him further down onto you, needing him as close as possible.

This elicits a laugh from his gorgeous, now swollen lips. "Calm down, baby...let's go slow." For some reason, he isn't sure why, he wants to take his time. He wants to drag the night out as long as he can. He wants to make love to you.

"S-Sorry," you whisper, embarrassed as you go to move your hands from his neck. He momentarily removes his hand from your heat to keep your hands in place. "You don't hafta stop. Don't be sorry, honey. Just...let's take our time," he whispers back, showing you how to hold him as he guides your hands to his hair, threading it through gently. "Okay."

His lips trail to your neck as he kisses and sucks gently. You softly arch up into him as you revel in the pleasure, moaning quietly. You cautiously grind up into him, causing him to groan into your neck as he lowers his hips down, meeting your action. Gently, his takes your hand in his as he guides it down to his now throbbing cock, wrapping your fingers around him.

You hesitate slightly, this concept of hooking up still strange for you. "You don't have to," he breathes, releasing your hand, but you keep your grip on him. "No, I want to." With that, you stroke him softly, your thumb swiping over his leaking tip. "Fuck," he grunts as he buries his face in your neck. Hearing him feel good makes you clench around nothing as you continue this action, speeding up only slightly.

Soon, he is groaning repeatedly into your neck, softly thrusting into your hand. You bite your lip at this as you look down to watch. Without warning, he trails his hand back down to your clit, rubbing in soft circles. You gasp at this as your pace on his cock falters slightly. "Jesus, your hand looks so pretty 'round me," he whines and you look at him to find he's watching with you, watching you jerk him off as he touches you at the same time.

You blush as you bring your lips to his, groaning as he continues to circle your sensitive. He accepts as he sighs into the kiss, suddenly removing your hand from his erection. He lines himself up at your entrance as he runs his cock along your opening, wetting himself with your slick. You both moan at the feeling as he rubs from your opening up to your clit.

"Shit," you gasp as you grip his shoulders, your head relaxing into the pillow. "Such a dirty mouth for such a pretty girl," he teases as he gives you an open mouthed kiss. Finally, he slowly starts pushing himself inside. You gasp as a mild pain fills you from not having sex in a while, causing him to snap his eyes to yours. "Are you okay, honey?" he asks through gritted teeth, as he's practically mewling from how good you feel. You nod. "Yes, I'm fine. Keep going," you grit out, knowing the pain will subside.

He bottoms out as he stills himself inside you. You can feel him practically shaking from the pleasure as he groans deeply at your pussy around him. "M'sorry," he mumbles, his face buried in your neck again. "Just feels so good," he moans, unable to contain his noises as he forces himself to wait for you. You smile at this, taking enormous pleasure from the noises escaping him. You run your fingers up and down his back as you feel yourself adjusting to his size. "Fuck, you're so big."

He groans at this, he loves praise during sex. "You're so tight," he mumbles, his hands running up and down your shoulders. He doesn't think he can't take the waiting much longer, and you can feel him getting antsy. "You can move," you say and he waists no time pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in slowly. You both moan loudly at this, the pleasure unlike anything you've felt before. "Jesus Christ," he groans as he quickly sets a pace. You gasp at each slow thrust as you dig your nails into his back, the pleasure almost too much to handle.

"You feel so good," you gasp quietly, your face flushing at the confession. He brings his lips to kiss your face, humming at your words. "I'm doing a good job, mama?" he asks, and this time it's his turn to blush. He's trying to get you to praise him, he needs it.

You somehow catch on that this is what he wants as you gently massage his back. It's hard for you to form words as you're both moaning messes, his thrusts slow and steady as he plunges himself into you, his hands scooping your legs up and around his waist. "Y-Yes, doing- oh god- such a good job. No one could fuck me better," you moan. This is exactly what he needs as he brings his lips to yours, biting gently at your bottom lip. "That's right, sweet heart. This pussy is all mine," he moans as he brings his thumb to your clit.

You cry out at the new sensation as you grind up into him. "Louder," he mumbles, making you clench around him. You moan again, giving him a bit of a show. He groans as he slightly speeds up his pace. "Louder," he moans again. "I-I want everyone in this damn building t-to know who's makin' you feel so good," He stutters out from the pleasure you're giving him. You whine at his words, your mind turning to goo as he softly pounds into you. "Elvis," you practically scream as he speeds up his pace on your clit. "Shit, that's it, honey," he groans. His thrusts speeding up slightly as he gently kisses your neck, loud moans escaping his mouth as the sounds of slapping skin reverberate through the room.

"Elvis, shit! You fuck me so good," you moan out, bucking into him, your eyes rolling back as you dig your nails into his shoulders. You don't think you've ever felt like this before, in complete bliss. "Oh my lord" he groans as he picks up the pace, hitting somewhere inside you you've never felt before. You gasp so loud, he thinks he's hurt you as he looks in your eyes, concern washing over him. "A-Are you hurting?" he gasps, slowing his movements. You can only shake your head and, looking in your eyes, he knows exactly what's happened.

He picks up the pace again as you mewl under him, the pleasure almost too much as he hits that spot over and over again. Tears start coming to your eyes as your nails dig into his back. "I know baby. It feels so good, doesn't it mama?" he groans, kissing your face as he continuous his steady pace. "You're gonna make me cum, shit," you whine as you latch your legs around him. He groans loudly at this, speeding up his pace. "Fuck, say it again," he pleads as his thumb applies more pressure to your clit. "You're gonna make me cum, Elvis," you groan and he whines into your neck, your words absolutely destroying him.

"Fuck, baby," he moans, his thrusts becoming sloppy. You feel your orgasm approaching quickly, and you can only cling to him as it arrives. You latch onto him as you scream out, his cock trapped in a vice grip as you clench around him over and over again, your orgasm wracking through your body. He shouts out as he plunges into you, his orgasm just as intense as he releases into you. A silence fills the air as you both come down from your highs, your minds muddled from pleasure. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he gasps when he realizes he came inside you, his face flushing harshly.

You rub his back as you try to come back down to Earth. "It's okay," you whisper trying to comfort him. "I-I didn't mean to," he stutters into your shoulder, kissing it over and over again, still buried in your warm cunt. "It's alright," you whisper as you thread your fingers through his hair, his body shaking above you. Truthfully, you aren't even sure if you can get pregnant. You and your ex have had unprotected sex a lot, but nothing ever came of it. It doesn't help, however, the small tinge of nervousness in the back of your mind. You push the thought away as you rub his back.

"I can't get pregnant, it's alright," you whisper, trying to comfort him. He pulls his face back to look at you, and you think you see a tinge of disappointment in his eyes, but decide you're just imagining it. "Really? I'm sorry," he whispers as he wipes damp hair out of your face. You shake your head, laughing softly at what the conversation has turned into as he's still balls deep inside you. "It's alright," you whisper, leaning up to kiss his lips. He pulls you close, wanting to stay connected to you a little longer. "That was the best sex I've ever had," he mumbles, his breathing ragged as his warm breath washes over your cheek. You blush at this. "Oh, I bet you say that all the time," you whisper back, but grin to yourself as you play with his hair. He shakes his head as he kisses your neck. It's indeed, the first time he's ever told anyone. And the thought scares him.

Masterlist

Tag List:

@flowersofcement @horrorgirl4life @looloolily @peaceloveelvis @father-of-2cats @goldobsessionsworld @tantamount-treason

[starseneyes]

Social Media, Connection, and the Chasms of Loss

I've heard grief discussed as many things. There are so many similes and metaphors constructed to cognitively comprehend the enormity of grief—but none are really sufficient, are they?

And there are so many kinds of loss and grief. But the one really consuming me as of late is the loss of connection—whether due to the death of a dear friend, or the severing of a cord that lasted years before finally fraying to the point it snapped.

But even sadder are the friendships that begin and end so swiftly you begin to wonder if you imagined the friendship at all. And the proliferation of Social Media in some ways united and bound us, but in the wake of Twitter's downfall, I also see the carnage left behind in the chasms of friendship scooped out simply due to migration or lack thereof.

So, in this essay that is more to help myself process an overwhelming loneliness as of late, I want to dive in a bit on the impact of Social Media, the rise and downfall of Twitter, and the avenues available to forging connection for those of us who spend the majority of our days entirely alone.

The early days of the Pandemic proved very isolating with lock downs and whatnot. I am immunocompromised and have always felt we should do what we can to protect one another.

Humans can't exist without some measure of care and protection. If I remember correctly, one of the first signs of community observed in archaeology was the setting of a broken limb—a human being offering assistance and care to another.

In the absence of in-person interactions, I know some of us became a little touch-starved, a little community-starved, grasping for the semblance of society through whatever medium available. Social Media became a lifeline in so many ways.

I started working from home in 2017, when my daughter was born. It was a tough pregnancy. I was finishing Graduate School with the worst Advisor ever at a school I would never recommend.

And when my Littlest was not even a year old, I was laid off from my job of 8.5 years when the parent company absorbed mine. I was offered a new job at the parent company that I knew would bore to me tears, so I dug into the freelance world I'd dipped my toe into.

I had friends, and we saw each other as much as possible. I still threw Chili Cookoff parties and Adult Game Nights and Unoite Parties. I was the organizer. I was the one driving the get-togethers. I loved it. I thrive in that situation.

There's a reason my eighth grade teacher looked at me and thought, "Yeah, this 12-year-old is ready to be my Assistant Director and Stage Manager for our production of Twelfth Night". I excel at organization and creativity. Combining the two is definitely my strong point.

By early 2020, I decided I wanted to get back to screenwriting, and I inadvertently started making friends in the screenwriting world, both PreWGA and WGA.

It was never a calculated thought on my part. I simply reactivated my dormant Twitter and realized Rachel of the past followed a lot of writers, and I kept going. Meeting people. Making connections. Hearing their stories. Sharing in moments big and small. And the early days of the Pandemic pushed us all together all the more.

"Meet ups" and "mixers" that previously took place at restaurants in Los Angeles were online. Folks from all over the world made connections. I was in Zooms with Brits and Aussies and Hispanics and people from all over.

Some of us really found that sense of community we were missing in a virtual setting. Which is a miracle, if you think about it.

I am never as comfortable typing as I am talking. And I am less comfortable on a phone than I am in-person. I love watching how someone reacts, listening to their inflection, considering their body language, knowing when to lean into the laugh and when to give space for the gasp of a sob. Yes, I know my Communication Nerd is showing—I do hold two degrees—but I thrive in situations where I can speak with another human and see them fully.

My father used to say all I needed to do was talk to someone, and I'd have any job I wanted in hand. And he's been mostly right about that.

I truly enjoy communication, so that feeds into how I communicate, I think. I like bringing joy to others. I like making them laugh. I like being there for them when they need someone. It's a gift to be able to hold space for someone when they need it—because even silence is a form of communication.

Twitter became one of the front runners for those who communicate primarily with words. While Instagram has always been image-forward and who knows what drives Facebook at this point, Twitter in 2020 still allowed you to follow who you wanted and see a real-time Timeline.

It became a haven for me. Remember, I'm immunocompromised. My General Practitioner—whom I adore—says, "Rachel, I wish I could write 'weird shit' as a diagnosis". And she said my immune issues are a part of me that isn't going anywhere.

Now, I'm healthier this year than I have been since my 20's. My white blood cell count is at the low end of Normal instead of 75% of what it should be. This is amazing news. But it wasn't the case in 2020, 2021, 2022. And it can go back down at any point without warning. So, I have to be careful.

So, as my friends "went back to normal", guess who wasn't hosting parties anymore? Guess who avoided indoor events far longer than others? And guess who clung harder to her friends on Social Media as a result?

And I am very grateful to have met many of the friends I made on Twitter in real life. It's been sensational to get to know people, whether at meets ups in Washington, DC or Arlington, or chatting on the picket lines up in New York last summer. But the day-to-day interactions were always on Twitter.

Then, Twitter became virtually unusable. Bots multiplied and overtook actual interaction. The destruction of the verification system eroded trust and safety. Every third Tweet was suddenly an ad for something horrible and hateful. Oh, I could go on.

But there was no universal landing pad. It was like closing time at the bar after the show. We all agreed to go to this place even though we know it closes at Midnight. But there's a dive bar across the street where we can go for a few more hours so the party doesn't have to end.

There was no established after-hours bar. Instead, there were a half dozen pop ups that may or may not become permanent locations down the line.

So, some people went to Spoutible. Some went to Mastodon. Some went to Threads. Some dug in on Instagram. Some flocked to Discords. Some went to BlueSky.

And thus this well forged and formed community of Twitter folks I'd come to know and adore fractured.

Not a one of us did anything wrong. We simply responded to the loss of our hub the best we could. But that loss is something I keenly feel.

See, I work from home. Every day. Sometimes I don't speak to another soul the entire day until my children get home. Then, I'm in Mom-mode until they go to bed, and often after that my husband crashes before we can have a conversation.

But at the same time I lost my Twitter community, one of my best friends died. Cheryl lost her cancer battle, and she was the one person I could message day or night. We understood if we didn't hear from the other that they would get to us as soon as they could. There was no expectation but there was this mutual love that I will forever appreciate.

And my IRL friends never quite went back to where they were pre-COVID. I have friends, now, who were once close but now scream against vaccines and attack teachers and curse LGBTQ folks who never did a damn thing to them. And so I'm letting those friendships fall away. I tried to talk to them about some of their views, and met nothing but a brick wall.

So, it's not that Twitter was my only community. But right now—save less than a handful of IRL friends—Social Media is my only human contact most days. And how many folks in the world have this same reality?

Whether due to disability, illness, isolation, or whatever other reason—so many folks look to Social Media as a place to engage with others in discourse, to make connections, to forge friendships.

Yes, this is possible. In the 90's, I knew a couple who met over the internet, fell in love, and one left the US for the UK where they wed and lived together until her passing. You absolutely can make real friendships via a social medium.

Honestly, the person I'm most excited about seeing at WorldCon in Glasgow isn't one of the Special Guests, but it's a human I met on BlueSky who is kindness personified wrapped in big hair and a bigger heart.

We connected somewhere around November/December and it's been one of the coolest things to get to know her and hopefully give her back some of the love she so freely gives.

We have never met in person. We forged this bond mostly via text. Little moments building, one upon the other.

That is the potential of Social Media. And that is something we are all still attempting to rebuild via all the different fractured pieces.

What compounds the difficulty is the insistence of TPTB (wow, I'm throwing it back to my Star Trek WebRing Surfing days with that one) that we trade connection for content—that we power the machine with our posts and comments but sacrifice meaningful relationship-building opportunities.

In short—we are fighting against the very systems we are forced to use in our quest for genuine connection. The systems are gamed with algorithms to push popularization of content we often don't want to see because it's incendiary and causes us to be reactionary.

The true moments of commiseration, celebration, and collaboration are born of tiny moments built upon one another over time. It takes shared time to create connection and for threads to become braided cord. If we're competing with the algorithm all the time, we lose valuable time.

So, in this time where one of my best friends is no longer with us, one of my other best friends is fading away, and the Social Media norms to which I’d adapted have failed—I am flailing a bit for want of connection.

This isn’t to say that we should all commit to Social Media to save our ails in any form. Please do not misread. I am only pointing out that for those of us for whom in-person, consistent contact is an impossibility, Social Media as it previously stood—especially Twitter—has served as a useful tool for maintaining connection.

Will another tool rise up in such a way to dominate the space and create a new centralized gathering place? I truly do not know.

At present, I spend most of my time on BlueSky and Instagram, dip my toes into Threads every so often, Facebook for the sake of distant family members who want to see the kids, and tentatively tiptoe toward Twitter only to check in on my loves who are on that platform and nowhere else.

I tried Spoutible and Mastodon. Neither really took hold. And, of course, I am here. But only about two people from the other places follow me here.

We are all in search of connection—of hearts meeting and minds mingling. Or maybe that’s in reverse depending on what kind of connection you seek. Either way, we are at once island and at the same time thirsty for the waters and waves that link us one to the other.

In this space, I am grieving the death of one of my best friends, the fading of another close friendship due to irreconcilable differences, the isolation of spending every day alone, and the loss of the social constructions that created social stability for me in absence of traditional avenues.

Friendship is precious and dear. However you make connections, build understanding, and develop trust—it is worth protecting and celebrating. So, it is natural to mourn what is lost for whatever reason.

But please don’t let it harden you. Despite all the technological and societal barriers in our way, we will form new friendships that are deep and meaningful. But that means continuing to put ourselves out there.

So, reach out to someone today—to start a friendship, to build a friendship, to nurture a friendship. With so much against us, we have to fight hard for it—but it is always worth it.

[onthewaytosomewhere]

2023 Fanfic Wrapped

All right I'll take the tag @adreamareads - thanks ❤️

I even played with gimp a bit and made a thing to go with it lol

This is super easy since, while I was a prolific fic reader, I only recently got back to writing any, and it's all been Red White and Royal Blue.

JAN - OCTOBER - Nada, no fic written here (all I wrote at all during these months was some work on plotting, background, and character stuff for a novel I'm going to be working on more in the coming year.

NOVEMBER

All They Needed RWRB FirstPrince 1200-ish words

Just a little thing reunion thing done for RWRB week here on Tumblr for the 'quote' (day 1) prompt. This was not at all where I planned for this to go, but who am I to argue with Henry showing up at the door to greet Alex. My first actual fic for this fandom

Kiss RWRB FirstPrince 600-ish words

A kiss from both boys' perspective - that's it, just a kiss. This was also written for RWRB week right here on Tumblr for 'kiss' (day 6 prompt)

DECEMBER

Holiday Bits and Bobs RWRB FirstPrince 26,814 words

A collection of holiday or winter-themed ficlets (mostly) from prompts found on the 'net or songs I heard, or in the last instance, some adorable high schoolers I saw at a tree-lighting that had me thinking of these boys. - This was written all in December, and whoa! let me tell ya, if I do holiday fics next year, they will not all be written in December

So I guess that means I posted 44,000 words on AO3 this year in fic -my rambling comments on fics didn't equal near that much, of course, but there were many of them.

I did write about 4000 words as of this point on a FirstPrince college AU so far in November/December, so that will be posted sometime next year, and a few other ideas I wanna work on next year once that's done. I guess I also wrote some little blurb things I posted on here before I really started writing again to dip my toes in the water.

I suppose I'm supposed to tag peeps on this now, but it really looks like everyone has done this - other than @typicalopposite, so ya get the totally-no-pressure tag, sweetheart. Oh wait - I think I might have someone else @inell I'm certain you've written stuff this year; I'm sure I've gotten ao3 emails saying this -so you can have a totally-no-pressure tag as well dear.

[racfoam]

A nynn AU where both Lily and James are fine, thank you very much but they are starting to lose hair with all the shit their daughter has to go through

“Uhhh, hey, hi,” greeted Harry, stuttering, shaking from head to toe, looking as though she’d been drenched in the rain. There was not a drop of rain in Godric’s Hollow tonight. “Sorry, I’m late. I got a —”

“We were so worried.” said Lily, frowning in a stern kind-of way.

Harry panted. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Tonks, Remus and Sirius went looking for you — we thought you were —”

The word kidnapped lingered in the air, unspoken.

“I’m insensitive, I’m irresponsible,” said Harry quickly, panting, beating Lily to it.

Harry gave her mum an exhausted cheek kiss to a stunned, a mwah sound when her puckered lips pressed to her mother’s cheek. 

Harry huffed another breath, then finishing with equal lack of air, “And I’m hungry.”

Harry swept past her parents. 

James and Lily looked at each other. Harry was stained in sweat. Her fringe clung to her forehead. Her disheveled jet-black hair was moist, as though she’d dipped it in olive oil. Her shirt was soaked a darker colour due to sweat. Sweat all over her.

Harry plastered her forehead on the surface of the fridge, catching a few breaths. She was eating the meatloaf with her fingers.

“Something is very wrong,” said Lily as she watched her daughter gather the leftovers she could find from the fridge, scouring like a wild raccoon.

“Yeah,” murmured James. “Nobody likes your meatloaf.”

The tower of gathered food Harry was holding swayed precariously. A cup of greek yoghurt tipped down.

Lily lunged to catch the cup of yoghurt on instinct. Faster than her mother, more accustomed to maneuvers against gravity, Harry caught the little packaged bowl in the clasp of her inner elbow.

“I’ve got it, mum,” said Harry.

Lily gawked. “She took the frozen macaroni and cheese.”

“I noticed that,” whispered James.

It was funny, in hindsight, how the married soulmate pair started off with worrying about Harry’s sanity after she came home seemingly on drugs and it devolved into them arguing over meatloaf.

James just saved his daughter’s arse by that comment. Lily was more focused on the fact James didn’t tell her he didn’t like her meatloaf than the fact their daughter was sweating, stuttering and being incoherent.

“Oh, by the way,” said Harry nonchalantly, pausing before the doors. “Dementors attacked me. Then Voldemort showed up and almost got me. I kicked him in the crotch and ran for it.”

They heard the doors click shut.

“Did you hear what I heard?” asked Lily, horrified.

“I’m still processing Harry kicked the Dark Lord in the crotch and bolted. That’s my girl.”

“James,” said Lily sternly.

A sigh from the wizard, defeated but accepting. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” confirmed Lily.

They both sighed.

Some Lily and Harry after the dementor attack

Lily knocked on the doors of her daughter’s bedroom.

“Come in!” called Harry.

Everything was decorated in Gryffindor colours and Quidditch posters. Some might wonder whether it was a girl's room at all. The Firebolt Sirius gifted Harry for Christmas last year after her Nimbus got destroyed by the Whomping Willow stood mounted on the wall horizontally along with quidditch posters. It was a large, slightly messy room, every side of it focused on something. The bed was very large, with red covers and a red pillow, with marshmallow-soft mattress, set beside the window. On the opposite side was the study desk. On another was a bookshelf where all books, magical and Muggle were stored. A few posters of Lynch decorated the wall (Harry had a big crush on him but would rather be Kissed by a dementor than admit it), paired with magical pictures of Harry with her friends. There were pictures of Harry and Lily alone, covered in baking flour, trying to bake a cake, grinning at the camera. The picture Harry held on her nightdesk was Harry's favourite; it was of Harry, Lily and James, both of them at each of her shoulders, all of them smiling at the camera.

The girl in turn was buried under the duvet, reading a book that had Lily's stomach drop. The title was You-Know-Who and All We Know About Him.

“Lo, Mum,” said Harry, closing the book. For someone who has been attacked by dementors and Voldemort, Harry looked rather relaxed. The fact she was only worried Lily more. Harry was growing far too used to danger.

“Do you want some hot chocolate?” Lily asked softly. “It's the best remedy for dementors."

Harry perked up at this. She popped out from under the cover, looking like a cat who smelled food. Or, in this case, hot chocolate.

“With marshmallows?” asked Harry hopefully, the glow returned to her vibrant, emerald eyes, practically vibrating with excitement. “And whipped cream?”

“Marshmallows and whipped cream,” confirmed Lily, smiling at her daughter. “Even Dark Lord defeaters need to eat.”

Harry flushed. Then, she bowed her head, staring down at the duvet and the book.

“Didn’t beat him,” Harry muttered bitterly. “I just bolted. Like a coward. Just like in the graveyard. The only good thing I'm good at is running away.”

Lily frowned. Slowly, after ascertaining it was all right by exchanging eye contact with Harry, she stepped into her daughter’s room, and gently clicked the doors shut.

“Now you stop right there, young lady. Coward? I see no cowards here.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped. “I see one in the mirror every day, mum.”

Lily understood then, what Harry meant with that. Harry had only put on a brave face for their sake. She was very much like her father. Even when shaken and scared, they both were courageous and brave to the point of stupidity.

“He said I should be in Slytherin how much I run to save my own neck.”

Lily sat on the side of Harry's bed. “Big words from a hypocritical maniac who failed to capture you twice and lost a fight against you. Twice. Look at me, Harry.”

Harry did so. Turmoil and uncertainty swirled around her eyes. Lily cupped her daughter’s cheeks.

“He is the coward, trying to kidnap a fourteen-year-old girl two months ago. He is the coward, sending dementors to weaken you and still failing to capture you. He is the coward, because he feels threatened by a teenage girl and is picking fights with you and thinking he commands you. You, Harry, are far from a coward. You are the bravest of us all.”

Harry's lips twitched. There it is. There is that Potter smile.

“Pretty sure Dad is braver,” muttered Harry.

“Oh, no. No, you have your father beat by a mile.”

Harry smiled now. A full smile.

“Hot chocolate in ten downstairs,” said Lily, kissing Harry's cheek and giving her a hug which Harry returned, relaxing into her embrace. “Before your dad eats all the marshmallows.”

Harry chuckled. “Right.”

Lily stood up, and headed to the doors.

“Mum!”

Lily turned around.

“Thanks,” said Harry, smiling.

“Anytime,” Lily replied, smiling back, and closed the doors of Harry's room, heading downstairs to make hot chocolate.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Blue Scoops: Chapter 2

summary: our little secret.

pairing: eventual f!reader x javier peña, chucho peña

contents: 18+/nsfw/minors dni, food mention, illusion to drug use, grief

WC: 1.9k

AN: happy blue scoops day! to everyone who has continued to read despite my absence on this app— thank you. it’s been a rough couple months but i do plan on slowly making my way back here bc i miss everyone. we are just a half chapter away from blue and javi meeting for the first time so thanks for you patience. as always thoughts, questions, comments are appreciated! <3

chapter 1 | series masterlist | misc. masterlist

The air feels noticeably fresh, still humid, but there’s something that starts to feel different as the days pass. You begin to settle in and it finally feels as if you’re starting anew, like the true beginning is here. While you’re not sure why, you decide to accept the shift, it couldn’t do any harm. Maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to let yourself dip your toe into the pool of living, even if it’s temporary.

You set off into town, wanting to get some decor and supplies for the house, food to stock the fridge and pantry. It’ll also give you an opportunity to scope out the local bakeries and cafes, and decide which ones you think you want to apply to if they're hiring. There has to be at least one that’ll be a good fit, but you aren’t in any rush with the sum of money in your bank account and minimal bills to pay. There’s a desperate necessity to get this right– if things go poorly here you aren’t sure what you’ll do with the rest of your life. If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you aren’t too sure now, but you’re doing the best you can to find a path.

This little town–as your grandfather had described it– has more to it than you anticipated. You spend the entire day in one thrift store, combing through things sold and forgotten in hopes to find things that call out to you. And when the shop closes, you head to the grocery store picking up the necessities with a plan to go back into town tomorrow.

Same as the day before, in each place you visit, a name continues to show up: Javier Peña. Signs, flyers, banisters all praising him, saying how much of a hero he is for his work with the DEA. It’s vaguely familiar, you’d seen all the Pablo Escobar stuff on the news but it hadn’t piqued your interest, your exposure to the effects of drugs ended with the death of your grandmother and you didn’t plan to go back. When you ask a cashier about it while at another thrift store, she gushes about Javier, eyes glazing over as she clutches the money in her hands close to her heart.

She looks ridiculous and you can assume that he must be incredibly handsome with the doe eyed look on her face.

She says after spewing incredibly too long, “I heard he may be coming home soon since they’ve taken down that other cartel. The Cali or whatever. I hope they throw a parade so we can all meet him.”

While you’re curious to know about the town hero you figure there isn’t much to learn while he’s not here. “Hopefully,” You agree with her, before gathering your new knick knacks and heading home.

You’re just about to start on some lunch when there’s a gentle knock at your door. You set down the loaf of bread, wiping your hands on your apron as you make your way to the door. Upon looking through the peephole you see a short man with tan skin and a grey beard. There’s a rather large hat on his head and a pair of aviators perched on his worn face.

“Hi, how can I help you?” You ask through the screen door, a polite smile on your face.

He doesn’t smile back but his expression isn’t unkind, “I’m Chucho. Chucho Peña. Been coming by here and making sure things stay tame.”

You recognize that name, your mind immediately flashing to the cashier in the grocery store, ranting and raving about that DEA agent, Javier Peña. It doesn’t feel right to ask him anything personal yet, you’ve just met the man, and you squash your curiosity and give into your surprise.

“You’ve been doing this by yourself?” You ask incredulously.

He shrugs, “It’s not too much, just some basic maintenance.”

His nonchalance pulls a laugh from your throat, and you open the screen door, stepping out onto the porch with him.

“I really appreciate that Chucho, I don’t think my grandparents thought about what would happen to this place once they left. I’m (Y/N), some people call me Blue. It’s great to meet you,” You offer your hand and he shakes it with a firm grip.

“Blue,” He repeats softly, a smile spreading across his face for just a moment. “I can keep coming by here if you’d like?”

“I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“You didn’t, I offered,” He counters and you’re grinning again.

He’s stubborn, reminds you of your grandfather and for the first time since he passed, it doesn’t hurt to think about him. You don’t shy away from it, or having this man that reminds you of him around. In fact it feels nice— lighter.

“At least let me pay you.”

Chucho shakes his head, hands up in protest, “Oh, no, mija, for free only.”

You narrow your eyes at him as you formulate a rebuttal, “What if I paid you with food?”

“That I think I’d be okay with.”

“Yeah? I thought so. I’ll make some lunch and leave the door open in case you need to come in. If you need anything just holler.”

Chucho has the entire lawn to mow, so you decide to make more than just sandwiches for lunch. You’ve bought ingredients for a caprese pasta salad as well, and you put on a pot of water to boil the noodles, taking your time to finely chop up basil and garlic. Every once and a while as you work, you take a glance out the window, watch as the man diligently pushes the lawn mower with seemingly no problem. By the time he’s entering the house, you’ve plated his sandwich and some of the pasta salad, a tall glass of frosty lemonade to accompany.

The smile that lights up his face and his soft murmur of thanks hits you in the gut, and you reflect on how much you love taking care of others.

In your grief you'd forgotten the warmth that accompanies fulfilling the needs of another. Your grandfather had died and somehow your nurturing spirit had gone with him, a primary recipient of your love and care gone. And in his absence, that role had been shifted to Oliver, all you were able to do it's take and take and take.

There’s another thing to apologize to Ollie for.

Chucho makes himself at home at your kitchen island, propping up on one of the stools you’d snagged at a tiny thrift store yesterday as he takes his first bite. There’s something comfortable about him, and there’s no hesitation when you pull up a stool across from him, joining him in the silence.

But even in the livable silence, your mind has a plethora of questions to ask this man who showed up at your door ready to show you a kindness you don’t deserve.

You keep your eyes trained on a cherry tomato in front of you, rolling it around on your plate, “I know this is a little personal to ask when we’re just meeting but did you know my grandparents?”

He hums thoughtfully, choosing his words carefully before answering, “I knew of your grandmother. Her family, your family, was well known around the community— goes back generations. Your grandmother…well you knew her better than I did.”

There’s something unspoken in his reply and you realize that your grandmother's battles with substance abuse must've started here. You’re not sure how you feel about that, undecided if it makes you angrier that none of you ever had a chance or if the small glimmers of compassion you hold for her grow deeper. She’d been so young, so naive, so vulnerable. Your grandfather loved her anyway. Even with your resentment, you find something beautiful in his willingness to give himself to her despite it all.

It’s strange to not have known anyone but your father and grandparents. You wonder where it’d went wrong, how she’d ended up the way she did.

“She made some not so great decisions. I’m guessing she didn’t live up to my family's reputation?” You dare a glance at him, catching the way he shrugs.

“From what I know everyone just wanted better for her.”

“She was a stubborn thing, I’m sure that just made her rebel more.”

“Despite her actions or struggle, your family name still means a lot in this town,” He reassures but it does anything but.

You’re not here to carry on your family’s legacy, whatever it may be. You’re here to rediscover yourself, to find out if there’s anything in this world that you feel is truly for you. Optics and family duties aren’t what you signed up for, not that you’d know the first thing about what that looks like.

“That’s a lot of pressure,” You murmur mostly to yourself but loud enough for him to hear.

“It can be our little secret,” He smiles again, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

Its infectious and you can’t help but smile back at him, “I really appreciate that Chucho.”

He sets down his fork on his now clear plate, finishing the rest of his lemonade as he stands with a stretch, “Well I’ll get going but here’s my card. I run the ranch out on the other edge of town.”

“All by yourself?” You ask again as you pluck the card of his hand, and this time it warrants a chuckle from him.

“It’s not much work but my son should be home soon to help out.”

“Javier, right? I’ve seen his name around on flyers and signs. The town really loves him.”

You notice the way he stiffens when you mention the flyers and praise, and curiosity blooms in you once again. But you’ve heckled this man enough, and have plenty of time to get to know him and potentially his son better. In fact, you find yourself looking forward to it.

“That’s my Javi,” The obvious affection for his son rings clear in his tone, and your heart squeezes in your chest.

“I’ll let you know if I need anything else, but maybe I could make you dinner out of appreciation for all those times you took care of the house?” You offer as you walk him to the door.

“You’ve got my card. Give me a call.”

“I will. Take care, Chucho.”

“You too.”

You busy yourself immediately with the kitchen, feeling an unwanted swell of emotion once Chucho’s gone.

Loneliness. It hits harder than it has in days.

Being alone is what you need right now you’ve come to terms with that. Missing Oliver and the phone calls you have with him don’t elicit this level of emptiness but you let that realization go, not ready to open up that can of worms any further. You’ve been so painfully lonely, and spending time ever with a stranger felt like a breath of fresh air. Some of that has to do with how isolated you are.

It’s only 4 in the afternoon once you finish prepping more food and cleaning up the kitchen but as you slide some tupperware into the fridge you pull out a bottle of wine, not even bothering with a glass. Lingering near the hallway, you shut off the lights, keeping your eyes trained on the box of your grandparents before letting out a sigh and heading towards your bedroom. Taking the first sips you ignore that scratching feeling inside you.

Another time. You’ll handle it all another time.

> chapter 3

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