#because it's kind of annoying to search the tag and have to dig through posts that don't even mention cass by name in them yet she's tagged

[tastycitrus]

sometimes i see things in cass's tag on both tumblr and ao3 that make me want to do this

[buildarocketboys]

a tiny random peterick prompt from moi: argument/fight that turns into sex/making out lol (interpret as loosely as you want)

Thanks babe - sorry I took so long to get around to posting this! I'm also gonna use this to fill the prompt 'Punch in the face' to 'Teddy bear' on my hurt/comfort bingo card @sweetspicybingo

Title: wanna sleep on every piece of fuzz and stuffing that comes out of you

Fandom: Fall Out Boy

Pairing: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz

Additional tags: Smut, Face punching, Rutting, Coming in pants, First time, Sleep Cuddles, Happily Ever After, Getting Together, Non-consensual groping, everything else is consensual Pete is just inappropriate

Posted on AO3 here!

Pete is being particularly annoying today. They're attempting to write some songs, but Pete keeps distracting him.

They're trying this new thing, where Pete writes the lyrics, and Patrick turns them into song.

Except, well, "lyrics" is an incredibly generous way of describing the reams of rambling scribbles Pete writes in notebooks before handing them to Patrick, expecting him to make miracles.

They're good, Patrick has to admit that. Better than anything he's ever written. Secretly he thinks that Pete might be some kind of genius. What Pete writes is poetry.

Not that he'd ever tell Pete that.

The things Pete writes, however, are not songs. 

Even so, the accidental rhythms jump out at Patrick from the page and he gets excited about turning them into one. 

And then he changes or adds a word to make the lyrics fit the melody that appears in his head, and Pete says, "Uh, no. You can't change that."

"Why not?" Patrick whines, getting more frustrated every time.

"Because it changes the meaning. Sounds stupid," Pete says every time. Then he won't elaborate.

The more he does it, the more Patrick feels like he's calling him stupid. Like Patrick is too dumb to get Pete's poetic soul, or whatever.

His face gets hotter and hotter, until he manages to say, "Maybe you can look at them when I'm done? Let me make them into songs and then you can give me all your criticisms?"

Patrick is impressed with himself. He doesn't even yell.

Pete, however, looks hurt. "Fine," he says, and retreats. Into the kitchen.

Where he loudly proceeds to make a smoothie.

Patrick is pretty certain that Pete Wentz is the most annoying guy in the world.

He growls in frustration, then digs his headphones out and shoves them on his ears. They block out most of the noise.

Now he can finally concentrate.

Only...now the moment's gone. When he looks back at the words, the melody's gone. He groans, covering his face with his hands.

He scans the paragraphs, searching for words that jump out at him. He flips through the notebook, determined to find something worthwhile.

Then he jumps as he feels a hand crawling up his back.

He twists round to find Pete with his hands held innocently behind his back. He pulls the one of the headphones' cups off his ear.

"What the fuck, Pete?" he says, putting all his venom into it.

Pete shrugs. "Wasn't me," he says, looking infuriatingly smug. "It was a hot girl."

Patrick sighs and rolls his eyes. Pete does this sometimes. He's not sure if he's making fun of him or trying to make him feel better about having no game but it makes Patrick feel all weird and squirmy inside. Which he does not appreciate.

He eyes Pete caustically, then grits out, "Fuck you, Pete."

Pete has the temerity to act upset. "Aww, c'mon Patrick, I'm only teasing."

"Well, don't," Patrick says shortly. Then, "Did you actually make smoothies? Or were you just being loud and annoying on purpose?"

Pete's eyes sparkle with a worrying mixture of playfulness and resentment. Patrick swallows.

"I did, actually. If you ask nicely, maybe you can even have one."

Patrick glares at Pete, then says, "Fine. Please may I have a smoothie?" He bats his lashes sarcastically.

Pete rolls his eyes but Patrick can tell he's fighting a smile. Pete loves when he's a little bitch.

He leaves the room and returns with a smoothie in each hand. He hands one to Patrick, then slips onto the floor next to Patrick.

Way too close.

Patrick sips at the smoothie, trying to ignore how close Pete is to him - pressed up against his body on Patrick's right side, from his thighs all the way up to his shoulders - and how hot he feels, despite the ice cream in his drink.

Then Pete puts his hand on Patrick's thigh.

Suddenly Patrick is trembling, though he's not sure why. Pete touches him all the time. Mostly he's just being annoying, but sometimes...Patrick's not so sure.

Either way, Patrick is already on edge. He sets his glass down carefully and then puts his hand on Pete's, picking it up and moving it physically off his leg.

He just catches Pete's smirk as Pete immediately puts his hand back where it was, crawling his fingers further up Patrick's leg.

"Would you quit it?!" Patrick explodes.

Pete removes his hand and bats his eyelashes at Patrick innocently. "Stop what?" he asks.

"Stop-" Patrick has to pause to swallow the lump in his throat. "touching me," he says softly.

Pete's eyes widen. "Oh, you mean like this?" he asks, and then pushes his hand under Patrick's shirt, squeezing his stomach.

Patrick doesn't have time to think about it.

He punches Pete in the face.

"Hey, what the fuck man?!" Pete says, sounding really pissed off. Like he hadn't just been groping Patrick's tummy.

"STOP FUCKING TOUCHING ME!" Patrick yells.

Pete does the exact opposite of stopping. He launches himself at Patrick, knocking him backwards and landing on top of him.

Pete looks down at him, clearly at a loss for what to do next.

Patrick is struggling to breathe.

"Well?" he gasps. "You gonna hit me or what?"

What, is the answer apparently.

Pete kisses him.

Patrick doesn't do anything for several long moments, his body and brain going slack with shock.

When he finally comes to his senses, all he can say is, "What the fuck, man?" He means for it to come out as angry as he had been mere moments ago, but there's a whine to the edge of his words. Patrick hears it as they come out of his mouth and he cringes.

"Oh c'mon, Patrick," Pete says. "It's not like you don't want it." To demonstrate his point, he reaches between their bodies and squeezes Patrick's rapidly hardening dick.

Patrick manages to turn his moan into a growl of rage as he pushes Pete off him.

Pete looks up at him, panting  as Patrick gets to his feet.

Patrick looks down at Pete: panting, sweaty, his usually artfully disheveled hair just, well, disheveled. His eyes travel over Pete's body down to his- well. Patrick's eyes widen. Pete clearly isn't unaffected either.

"Fuck you," Patrick spits out, running his foot over Pete's leg, nearly but not quite to his crotch, before, aiming a kick at the point where his ass meets the floor.

"Don't mind if you do," Pete says, waggling his eyebrows at Patrick.

Patrick puts his hands on his hips. "Really." His voice is completely flat.

Pete shakes his head, bangs falling in front of his eyes. It's maddeningly endearing. "Can't you see the effect you have on me, Patrick?"

Patrick looks away, feeling his cheeks burning, before running his foot along Pete's leg again, this time brushing against Pete's crotch. It's not a trick of the light; Pete is hard.

Patrick gulps.

"I've never...I don't..." Patrick says, shaking his head, even as his dick contradicts his words.

Pete shrugs, looking suddenly shy. "Me neither," he admits. "But how hard can it be, right?"

"Pretty hard, I reckon," Patrick mumbles, which makes Pete break out into undignified snort-giggles. "Oh come on, it wasn't that funny!"

Pete just looks up at him. "You're adorable, do you know that?"

Patrick ignores that, like he does every time Pete says something like that, instead offering a hand to help him up from the floor. 

Pete takes it, letting himself be pulled up.

Then Patrick hauls Pete up in his arms with a grunt, carrying Pete to his room and dumping him on his bed.

"Now that was hot."

"Wanna make out?" Patrick says abruptly, because he figures that's where this is heading and he doesn't want to waste time having more embarrassing conversations.

Pete grins wolfishly. "Always, babe."

Patrick narrows his eyes. They'll have to have a word about the petname thing later.

Right now, though, he straddles Pete on the bed and leans down to kiss him.

And then stops, suddenly self-conscious. "Is this OK?" he asks.

Pete gives him a look. "Patrick-"

Patrick feels himself blush. "No I mean...am I OK being on top of you? Are you comfortable enough?" Sure, he'll get all up on Pete when they're fighting, but that's not meant to be pleasurable. Patrick is suddenly very aware of how much bigger and heavier he is than Pete, despite Pete having maybe an inch on him, height-wise.

Instead of answering, Pete leans up and kisses Patrick. Then he pulls Patrick down on top of him and kisses him for longer.

Patrick groans into the kiss. He's kissed girls before, sure (though not many) but it's never been like this. Pete's mouth is warm and wet, his tongue exploratory, his mouth demanding. His kiss is hard, almost biting, but Patrick finds he likes it. His dick jumps in his pants and he ruts against Pete without meaning to.

Pete moans and pulls him down even further, letting his legs fall open then wrapping them around Patrick's ample hips, pulling them flush together.

Pete bucks up against him and they both gasp.

A grin plays over Pete's lips before Patrick dives back down onto Pete, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, wiping that smile right off his face.

Their making out and rutting is about as awkward and undignified as their fighting, but damn if Patrick isn't getting off on it.

Pete pants directly into his mouth. "So good, Patrick," he moans. "So hot."

Patrick thrusts his hips harder, his dick rubbing against Pete's through the material of their pants. He doesn’t trust himself to speak. He wishes he could feel Pete's skin on his, but that would mean breaking contact, and neither of them are willing to do that right now.

Patrick pokes at Pete’s lips with his tongue and Pete sucks on it, pulling a moan from Patrick that doesn't even sound like him. He's so close. Closer than he has any right to be, considering he's A) still fully clothed, B) not a teenager anymore, and C) not gay.

But Pete just does something to him. He rearranges his insides. 

The bastard.

"Patrick," Pete gasps out, bucking wildly up against him, and Patrick thinks smugly he might not be the only one who's close.

"Not yet," he murmurs. He's trying not to think about it, but he's already scared of what comes next. What comes after.

Pete whines. "Soon," he says. "Please."

The sound of Pete, wrecked, below him, leads Patrick to rut harder and faster against Pete, the friction too much and not enough.

He groans into Pete's mouth and sucks on his tongue.

Pete whines into his mouth and sucks on Patrick's lip.

Patrick gasps and bucks against him, feeling Pete’s hardness pressing back against his own.

"Fuuuuck," he says. He ruts into Pete a few more times, and then he's coming, wet in his pants, like a teenager.

He collapses against Pete, embarrassed and elated.

"Wait, Patrick, did you just-?" Pete says, like he's surprised.

Patrick nods. As if Pete didn't know. If he's a dick about it, Patrick's gonna kill him.

Pete's face lights up with a grin. Patrick braces himself as Pete opens his mouth.

"Me too," Pete says, and Patrick realizes Pete's erection isn't pressed up against his body anymore.

"Oh." Then Patrick laughs. 

Pete laughs too.

"That was your fault," Patrick says, but he's grinning.

"Oh don't worry, I'll be taking full credit."

Patrick takes in their twin grins for a moment longer before rolling off Pete.

"Hey!" says Pete, then he's diving under Patrick's arm and laying his head on Patrick's chest. "You didn't think you'd get away that easily, did you?"

Patrick looks down at Pete's head pressed to his chest, his heart, and says honestly, "I didn't really know what was gonna happen next."

Pete looks up at him adoringly and Patrick can't resist the urge to pet his hair. "Oh Patrick," he says. "Now we live happily ever after."

That surprises a laugh out of Patrick. "Yeah, OK," he says. He means to be sarcastic, but he finds that he believes Pete. He’s always believed in Pete. And if Pete believes in him, believes in the two of them together, then maybe Patrick does too.

He pulls Pete tighter to his chest, playing with his hair.

Pete sighs happily. "I always knew you'd be a big teddy bear," he says. "'m gonna sleep so well now I've got you."

Patrick snorts. Pete's chronic insomnia is no secret to either of them. But to his surprise, Pete is actually dozing off, starting to snore gently against Patrick's chest.

Patrick spends half a second worrying about the state of their underwear before deciding he doesn't give a fuck and letting his eyes fall closed with Pete dozing on top of him. Heart to heart.

[communicationandconversation]

Ruthless blocking as self-punishment

CW: Extended mentions of aphobia and transphobia, very brief mention of ableism, general negativity around the internet and what could potentially be considered self-harm (deliberate exposure to upsetting materials).

You know how a lot of people say getting into arguments with trolls on the internet does nothing to change the troll's mind and is just detrimental to your mental health in the long run? I'd like to take that a step further if that's alright.

(Disclaimer: this isn't really focused on language but I will be focusing a lot of my experiences as a queer person and disability to some degree as well. It's also not me telling people not to block people, it's mainly me talking about my own experiences in hopes other people might be able to relate.)

Between my tumblr and twitter accounts I have over 800 people blocked. Some of the numbers may be a bit off given the amount of bots and people deactivating their accounts over the years but it's still a lot! The internet is a divisive place and everywhere you turn there's an argument you can join a side in. But, at the same time, it can also be incredibly easy to cultivate bad habits as a result of all of this discourse.

I originally joined Tumblr in 2016 as an aroacespec young person. Other people on those spectrums who have been here that long are probably plainly aware where I am going with this, but it was not a good time to be aroace on the internet then, especially when you're just starting out in those spaces. Arguments around "cishet aceys" taking up too much space in the community and giving it a bad rep with our microlabels and flags was rife. A lot of our culture was kept quieter and quieter - the rings, the cake, the dragons - because it was considered too cringy. "Mogai hell" was enough of a phrase to send anyone packing.

So what do you do when it feels like people on the internet hate your existence? You try to fight it or barracade yourself in. Arguing or blocking, both have their merits and downfalls. When you're arguing with people about belonging in a space, chances are that the person you're arguing with won't change their mind; if anything, they're just going to dig their heels in further or twist your argument to support theirs. But at the same time, there is a chance that other people with the same identity and/or experience will see you fighting and feel less alone.

On the other hand, blocking takes away some of the satisfaction on both sides. People trying to get a rise are just getting ignored rather than recieving attention, good or bad, but you're also still aware that they're out there on the internet saying all of these horrible things, even if you yourself can't see them. For some, this is where the cycle ends, but I tried to take it even further, even if I didn't argue with anyone at any point.

"Ace discourse" had taken over all of the main tags, plus a few (see "Mogai hell") were even more direct in showing you how much people hated your aroacespecness. So, I would go on those tags frequently, find those blogs saying horrible things and go through their posts, blocking other people they reblogged from and then blocking them at the end. I told myself it was a good thing. It meant I was becoming increasingly aware of all of the main aphobic talking points and was also preemptively blocking blogs before I could come across them naturally (despite the fact I might not have come across them at all if I hadn't actively searched them out). It didn't help though. There are always more blogs to block and always more hateful talking points to come across.

You know when they have those episodes of tv shows where people think they want their friends/family/partners to be completely honest with them about everything and then the other person says something that annoys them and it just makes the person who wanted that honesty feel more insecure with themselves? It's kind of like that. It just feels your head with people who don't deserve to be there rent-free, while they have no idea you even exist and wouldn't care if you did or not. People don't want to feel like they're being ignorant but honestly there's so much hate in the world already that living life without also harming yourself is more radical than scrolling through posts on the internet with the intention of blocking every single person who's written one.

It's easier in some cases than others. I see a lot less aphobia nowadays, probably both from me not actively seeking it out and from Tumblr culture moving past it being such a popular form of "discourse". I also have a rule for myself that I will scroll past any form of AITA reddit post that has mentions of autism or other disabilities in the title because the chances of seeing people being ableist on there just aren't worth it.

But at the same time I and other people I follow on Twitter do a lot of work around the rise in transphobia, so even tweets I encounter around trans joy at the moment are bombared with TERFs and other transphobes kicking up a fuss in the comments. Once again people are dedicating so much time to hating a group that just wants to live life happily and it's kind of pathetic. Part of the reason I wrote this though is because I can feel myself slipping back into those same unhealthy routines more and more, since it's so easy to click on a tweet, go to the comments or quote retweets and just start scrolling and blocking.

So in case anyone else has been having the same troubles, hello! You deserve much better than this and if it's not for work I'd advice moving away from following accounts that focus on the doom and gloom of prejudice for a bit. Follow some cute animal accounts, artists or silly novelty accounts! If you use apps rather than websites for social media, don't be afraid to have daily time limits on them, or move to browser-only so they're more of a hassle to get to everytime.

Constant negativity isn't a viable way to live and there's a difference between ignorance and healing. I'm wishing you all the best and hopefully we'll all be able to come out of this on the other side healthier and happier than ever before. Much love! <3

[maleyanderecafe]

might have to unfollow if you keep posting y0urboyfriend stuff. the art is just so bad and hard to look at. i just followed for yandere recs. could you at least stop spamming like 10 posts in row?

Seems a bit rude to those artist, but whatever, I guess. Let's see if I can explain what my thought process is for this kind of stuff.

The way I do reblogging for this blog is that every day I try to manually reblog about 7 different posts, usually with a theme to entertain myself (for instance, it can be all webtoons, or art with blood in it, or wholesome yanderes or non humans. Today's theme was "well dressed", it might be fun to guess what my theme is for each day lol). This is why somedays I don't reblog things, because either I've forgotten or I was really tired that day. I've actually expanded it out to 10 reblogs because of y0urb0yfriend stuff.

I've been following the y0urb0yfriend blog for a while, and while he might show up in a couple of my reblogs before, more recently its become extremely, and I mean EXTREMELY popular, so much so that it's invading other sites like instagram and youtube. I personally don't really understand what caused this surge since from what I can tell the demo has been out for a while, but with this huge surge in popularity, the amount of fanart for this game has grown exponentially, to the point where while looking for posts to reblog, almost 70% of the ones I favourite are y0urb0yfriend stuff.

To be honest, as much as I think the concept of y0urb0yfriend is neat, I feel like I don't like it as much as other people, which is surprising seeing how much I reblog it. The reason that I reblog it so much is that I see it the most, even while digging for more original art, sometimes all I see is Peter, and because my blog is for "male yanderes, big and small" I favourite it. The way likes works on tumblr also doesn't help, since often I have to dig really deep into my likes to find something that isn't y0urb0yfriend related art. So I figured that if I dedicated every other day to just reblogging y0urb0yfriend stuff, it would start to empty my likes. And guess what, even extending out to 10 reblogs a day, I still sometimes have to add it into the days where I just reblog other things because that's literally how much fanart I find for this game. I feel like I have a sort of love hate relationship because while it is a cool concept and it does bring more people into finding out about male yanderes, its beginning to be hard to find anything other than that (I also have this kind of relationship with yandere simulator, though I find that way more annoying to search through). So for now, I'm just going to ride this wave of Peter stuff until hopefully at some point it dies down a little.

While I understand why you might find it annoying, I don't really understand the disdain for this. I've done similar things with other fandoms (though understandably not to this degree) where I would reblog nothing but that for a while (for example, jjba, watgbs and bnha). I've also always spammed reblogs for things, so it should be something that you're at least somewhat used to.

So for your options, I have two ideas for you. Either block the tag for y0urb0yfriend (I always tag it as #y0urb0yfriend) so that you can just see the posts that are not related to it, or you can unfollow me. It's up to you of course, I don't really mind either way. Though, if you are still interested in my recommendations after unfollowing me, I usually post recommendations/analysis on Wednesdays. Sometimes I skip though because I've forgotten or because its taking me forever to write an analysis. There's also my masterlist you can just check up every now and then.

Choice is up to you.

[sfb123]

Sapere Aude - Part 8A

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: M -MATURE 

Warning: Adult language, smut (🍋🍋🍋) and other adult themes.

Word Count: 4,049

Notes: I know I’ve sucked at updating and posting. I hit kind of a personal slump in my writing, there was a lot of self-loathing involved. I really struggled with writing chapter 9, and I eventually had a revelation that it was likely because I wasn’t done exploring everything that happened in chapter 8, so I’ve made a sub chapter. We follow Liam when after he leaves their quarters and get into his thought process in dealing with the bombshell that was dropped on him.

And yes, you read that rating right, my lemon tree has had its first bloom. I really stressed myself out over this, so I hope it’s worth the time I spent trying to convince myself that I was doing a good job, not to mention the time my friends had to spend (see below) to boost my ego.

Thank you so so much to @txemrn for reading a couple of snippets for me and being the cheerleader I needed when I was feeling really down on myself and my work...even though I was supposed to be the one giving YOU a peptalk!

And a super special thank you to my fairy smutmother @jessiembruno. You listened to me complain, and doubt myself, and a million other things multiple times a day while I was trying to find my way, and you never once came off as annoyed or frustrated. I am so lucky to be able to call you a friend.

Finally, thank you so much @twinkleallnight​ for my UPDATED moodboard! She took it upon herself to update it to better reflect the feel of the story, and she did a kick ass job!

Tags: I’m officially rocking my new tag list. Everyone is listed below as well as in the comments for safety. If you’d like to be added or removed, let me know! 

“Liam, where are you going?”

“I need to take a walk. Gather my thoughts.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I need to be alone right now. You stay here, I’ll be back shortly.”

Before she could stop him, Liam was out the door. He knew she just wanted to be there for him, but he needed to be alone. The royal quarters, his home, his sanctuary, suddenly felt so small. He was suffocating there, he needed to get away, to breathe.

“Your majesty?” Bastien stopped him. 

“I’m fine, Bastien, just going for a walk. Please stand down.” Liam tried to keep his tone and expression neutral, but it was obvious to Bastien that something was wrong. He bowed to the King, following orders and remaining at his post. 

Liam continued walking through the palace, unsure where he was going, he just needed to get out. He found himself walking through the gardens, approaching the maze. One of his mother’s last projects before her passing...or rather, before she abandoned him. It was always a special place for Liam. Growing up, he would often go there to hide out when he was feeling lonely, or missing his mother more than usual. It was one of his favorite spots on the grounds, possibly in the world. How would he ever be able to look at this space the same again? It would serve as a constant reminder of the insurmountable betrayal he had faced at the hands of the woman that gave him life. 

As he walked the familiar path through the maze, he considered his options. Perhaps he would burn it to the ground, and salt the earth to prevent any attempts at regrowth. Would that make him feel better? Would it take away the pain? 

Likely not, but it would feel good to know that I took something away from her that she cherished so dearly. A metaphor for what she has done to me. My memories of her, her kindness, her generosity, they mean nothing anymore. Because, to her, I meant nothing. I couldn’t have. If I did, she wouldn’t have left. 

He continued his journey, getting lost in his thoughts. He would look back at his childhood memories, trying to remember something, anything, that could ease this moment for him. Nothing came. His mind then wandered to the relationship he could have had with Thomas, his brother. He had another brother this whole time. All those times when Leo had run off to god knows where, he wouldn’t have had to be quite as alone as he was. Sure, he had Drake to keep him company, but Drake wasn’t a prince. He didn’t have the same expectations, the same limitations, that Liam faced. He could have had someone else by his side that understood all of it. 

How was he supposed to feel about Thomas now that he knew the truth? His first instinct was anger, but he quickly rejected that. It wasn’t his fault that they were kept apart their whole lives. He was suddenly very curious about Thomas’s life.

What was his childhood like? How did he feel when he learned that he was also royalty? Has he ever wanted to say anything to me, to come forward? Would I have believed him if he had?

Even though he wasn’t supposed to know any of this, he hoped that things would get to a point where he could talk to Thomas, and ask those questions. Ideally in a casual setting over drinks, and not an interrogation cell. 

Liam soon found himself in the center of the maze. As he took in his surroundings, his mind kept racing back to his childhood. The picnics with his mother, the games of maze tag with Drake. 

I wonder if Thomas would have liked to play maze tag with us, had he been around. 

He felt a sudden calming come over him at one point. When he took a look around, he realized that he was standing in the exact spot where he and Riley had landed when he inadvertently tackled her the night of the masquerade ball. The night he learned she had traveled halfway around the world just for a chance to be with him, because she felt what he was feeling after just a few hours together one night in New York. Even now, all these years later, he still felt the same butterflies in his stomach thinking of that moment. 

Wistfully, he walked a bit further, to the spot where they stood the night of his coronation, where he had finally managed to say those three words he had been feeling since the moment his eyes met hers. He smiled as he replayed the memory of her saying it back to him. He was fairly certain at the time that she felt the same way, but to hear those words fall from her beautiful lips, he had never felt a high quite like that in his life. His mind then wandered to the events that those words led to, another moment he had long dreamed of. Physically expressing the love they had just declared. He felt his heart start to race thinking of their first time together. All of the sudden, anger quickly replaced all other emotions, as he remembered that there was a tape of that moment. A tape that was recorded, and held, by her group. He quickly searched the area, digging his arms through the hedges, looking for anywhere a camera might be hidden. He came up empty. Given how long it had been since the recording, it made sense that they had likely removed their surveillance from the area. 

Another reason to be rid of this maze once and for all. Another reminder of the deceit. Only this time it’s worse, they brought Riley into it. 

Liam needed to move on from the center of the maze, so he continued walking, finally coming across the wishing well. The wishing well his mother had told him about when he was a child. 

Can you take back wishes? I wished so many times that my mother would come back to me, for her death to have been a misunderstanding. Well Liam, you got your wish, now look at you. How many other wishes have I made that will come back around to bite me in the ass? 

His mind began to wander again. This time, to the night of the Homecoming Ball. The night Riley was officially presented as the Duchess of Valtora, and more importantly, his fiance. They both made wishes that night, he remembered his wish: to never let fear dictate his choices, the way his father did. 

He let fear dictate his choices because of the loss of his wife. Had he known what truly happened, things would have been different. Perhaps he wouldn’t have interfered with my choice during the social season. I could have been with Riley all along. The way things were always supposed to be. I know we ended up together, and the struggles made our bond that much stronger, but there was a very real chance that I could have lost her forever, I almost did, over his choice.

Thinking of Riley reminded him of her reassurances that night, she was so confident in his ability to be a good King. She believed in him from day one, and never faltered in that. Even when he didn’t believe in himself, thinking of Riley, and her faith in him gave him the strength to continue on. To be the best man, and King he could be. To make his Queen proud. 

In that moment, Liam had an epiphany. This maze was so much more than his childhood and memories of a mother that betrayed him. This maze was about the love he and Riley shared. It had played a paramount role in their story. When he looked around, he saw memories of them, their stolen moments, their heartfelt confessions. He couldn’t get rid of this maze, if he did, he would be destroying a piece of his heart. 

From this moment forward, this maze is not about her, not about the lies that she raised me on. It is about the love and support I have shared with my soulmate. This is where our love, much like the flowers that adorn these hedges, blossomed. 

Riley...my heart, my world, my Queen. She gave up her life, her freedom, to be with me. She left her family and friends, her job, everything, for me. She has dedicated her life to my country, she has taken on my responsibilities. What have I done in return? I’ve put her in this impossible position. I’ve put her in harm's way, yet again, for the good of Cordonia. A country had never even heard of before I came in and turned her life upside down. 

He needed to get back to her. Walking back toward the palace, he started considering how she might be feeling in that moment. He had been so caught up in his own mind, that he didn’t stop to think what all of this was doing to her. She had to deliver devastating news to the man she loved, and his reaction was to abandon her. His heart sank as he approached their quarters, he felt so small. He entered their bedroom, overwhelmed with shame for the way he had left her. 

Of course she’s still awake. She probably stayed up worrying about me. I was so selfish to just leave her like that.

He kept his head down, too ashamed to look her in the eye, and walked straight into his closet to get ready for bed. His mind working overtime, trying to find the right words, but nothing came. He exited the closet and walked toward the bed, hoping something would come to him. 

Finally, Riley broke the silence in the room. 

“Liam…” She said barely above a whisper, he turned his head and looked at her for the first time since arriving home. “I’m sorry.” She placed her hand gently over his. 

She thinks I’m mad at her. She’s blaming herself. How does she not understand that she is the only thing keeping me from going off the edge? I’m the one that dragged her through all of this, and she’s apologizing to me. I don’t deserve her love. 

He was overwhelmed with anger at himself, and heartbreak for his wife. “Riley, you have nothing to apologize for. I am the one that wanted you to do this. You did nothing wrong. None of this is on you.” He tried to smile, but he knew it was unconvincing. He could feel the sting of tears beginning to well up in his eyes. 

“Fine, but you’re not allowed to blame yourself either.” 

Even to this day, after all of these years, it astonishes me how she can see right through me like that. I’ve had years of training to hide my thoughts and emotions, that training proved useless when it comes to Riley.  

“What you just said, telling me you were the one that wanted me to do this. I know you Liam Rys, better than anyone. You’re thinking about how you brought all of this on yourself.” 

It’s the truth. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t talked you into joining. 

For the second time that night, Liam couldn’t bear to look his wife in the eyes. She was right, but so was he. Liam felt the firm, yet loving touch of Riley’s hand holding his chin and lifting his gaze to meet hers. There was a fire in her eyes, unlike any he had seen from her before. 

“This is all on them, it’s the Via Imperii’s fault. That’s why we’re going to take them down. Together. Just like Anton, just like Auvernal, just like Barthelemy, just like any other enemy that has ever, or will ever come our way. We are the King and Queen of Cordonia, Liam and Riley Rys. We are a force to be reckoned with.” 

Liam was taken aback by the determination in her statement. He knew she was strong, she had been his rock since the day they met, but this was so much more than that. He didn’t know it was possible, but he felt his love for her grow. 

Awestruck, he took the hand she had planted on his chin in his, and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You always know just what to say, love.”

“Years of diplomatic training. I need to be prepared for every possible scenario.” She winked at him.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the comment. She made it seem so easy to turn his mood around. It was something he would never understand, but always be grateful for. 

God, I love this woman. 

Riley smiled and leaned into him. “C’mon, let’s try to get some sleep. We can circle back to this nightmare in the morning, start working on a plan.” They both laid back onto the bed, and into each others arms. 

In the middle of the night, Liam’s eyes shot open, his heart pounding in his chest, worry overcoming him. He needed a moment to get his bearings, turning to his left to make sure she was still there. She was.

He had been dreaming, a nightmare, technically. Riley was gone, he wasn’t sure where she had gone or why. All he knew was he felt empty, broken, more so than he ever had before. He watched Riley as she slept, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He thought back to his family, the people that were supposed to be there and care for him above all else. 

His mother, who had lied to him from the second he was brought into this world. She was his benchmark for love and support, but it was all fake. Because of her, he lived his life based on false ideals. Then he met Riley, she showed him what love and support truly was. 

Leo, he was a great brother growing up. He made sure Liam got to have fun, and took the heat when it would get out of hand. However as he got older, his priorities changed, and he was around less and less. When he finally abdicated the throne, he placed the weight of the world on Liam’s shoulders. The bright side to that, was that becoming the Crown Prince, and having a social season, brought Riley into his life. She helped him believe that he truly could carry the weight that was thrust upon him. 

His father, a King above all else. As hard as Liam tried to break through that wall, it was duty and his country above all else. That never mattered to Liam though, he still looked up to his father and held him to such a high standard. Until it was uncovered that he attempted to destroy his son’s one chance at true happiness. Despite his attempts at ruining her name, and putting her in harm’s way, Riley stayed and fought. She fought for herself, and she fought for their love. She forgave him for his actions, something Liam was never fully able to do. And when Liam mourned his loss, she was there by his side, holding his hand. 

Riley, his bright spot in all of the darkness. His constant source of goodness and joy. In all of that pain, Riley was there. Who would be there if she left him? He would have nothing, he would be nothing. He felt a tightness in his chest at the thought of losing her. He reached his hand out and gently stroked her arm, needing to touch her. 

He saw her eyes slowly start to flutter open. 

She’s cute when she’s tired. 

He watched as she lifted her hand and ran her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. 

“Hey, are you ok?”

He unsuccessfully tried to swallow away the lump in his throat before answering. “Please don’t leave me, Riley.”

Liam watched as she sat up in bed, a confused look on her face. “Liam, never. I love you, you’re stuck with me for life.

He knew she meant it, but he also knew these things weren’t always under their control. “I just…there have been so many people that said they cared about me, and then left. Losing them was so hard. But if I lost you Riley, I don’t know how I would be able to continue on. You are the most important part of me, my everything. I don’t exist without you.”

A sadness overtook Riley’s face, Liam felt horrible for making her feel that way. He looked down before feeling her hands on either side of his face, her thumbs softly stroking his cheeks. “Liam, I promise you with all my heart, and everything I am, that there is nothing on this earth that could take me away from you. My husband and my daughter are the greatest joys of my life. A world without the two of you is not a world I would ever even want to think about.”

In that moment, all Liam could think about was being as close to her as he possibly could. He desperately needed to feel her body tangled with his. He surged forward and kissed her with everything he had. It was a kiss loaded with love, longing, and need. He lowered Riley from her seated position and rolled on top of her. 

“Show me.” He whispered. 

“Yes, my king.”

He shuddered at her words. Pinning her hands above her head, he slowly rolled his hips into her so that she could feel just how desperate he was for his wife. Riley closed her eyes and moaned at the sensation. 

Liam’s mouth moved to her ear, nipping at the lobe before saying in a commanding, yet tender tone, “Open your eyes Riley, I want you to see everything I am going to do to you.”

Riley’s eyes opened as she met Liam’s hungry gaze. “Yes, my king.”

“Good girl.” He kissed her deeply, removing one hand from hers and slowly moving it down her body, traveling the familiar curves that drove him crazy time and time again. 

Liam’s lips moved away from hers, treading across her jawline and down her neck. Riley hissed at the feeling of his teeth running along her tender skin. “Liam, calm down. You’re going to leave marks.”

“Good, they will serve as a reminder that you belong here, with me.”

Riley freed her wrists from Liam’s grasp and brought his face to hers. “Liam, I don’t need a reminder, I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.” 

He silenced her with a searing kiss. One hand traced the curve of her breast as the other traveled downward, rubbing her center through her panties. “You’re so wet for me already, love.”

All Riley could do was groan in response. She felt his lips return to her neck, as his hands traveled to the hem of her tank top, he gently lifted the shirt over her head and deposited it on the floor. His mouth continued its descent, kissing her shoulder and quickly moving to her breast, taking the nipple into his mouth, slowly circling it with his tongue. He kissed across her chest, paying the same attention to the other breast. 

The quiet moans and whimpers coming from his wife were the encouragement Liam needed to continue moving south, kissing down her torso until he was met with the waistband of her panties. He paused and looked up at her. 

“Liam, please.” She whispered, desperate for him to remove the lacy barrier. 

He gave her a wolfish grin before taking them between his teeth and quickly dragging them down her legs. Once they were removed, he lifted her foot and softly kissed the inside of her ankle, his lips moved at a painfully slow speed, resting her leg over his shoulder as he moved closer to her wanting center. 

As soon as Riley felt Liam’s breath on her glistening core, her own breath hitched. Liam heard it, and it satisfied him to know that in that moment she needed him just as much as he needed her. He tantalizingly licked up the length of her slit until he reached her sensitive nub. 

She gasped as he began sucking and licking, his tongue moving in calculated circles. He knew her body inside and out, he knew just what to do to her to get the reaction he wanted. 

Riley’s hands quickly found their way to Liam, running her fingers through his hair and gripping tightly guiding him exactly where she needed him. The pressure caused Liam to moan into her, Riley felt the vibration against her body and trembled. 

Sensing that she was close to her release, he slowly slid one finger inside of her, and curled it slightly. She bucked her hips and moaned Liam’s name, that was all the invitation he needed to add a second finger. 

“Yes Liam, don’t stop.”

He looked up at her with an unmistakable mix of lust and adoration. “Never, Riley.” Before continuing his efforts, causing Riley to plummet over the edge, loudly moaning his name. He worked through her release, savoring every second of her ecstasy. 

As she started to come down from her release, Liam kissed a path up her stomach, positioning himself on top of her. Once they were face to face he kissed her deeply. 

Their tongues intertwined, and Riley’s hands drifted to the front of Liam’s pajama pants, palming his hardness through the fabric eliciting a deep groan from him. Riley smiled into the kiss, moving her hand into his pants, wrapping it around his length and pumping slowly. 

“Mmm...are you ready to take all of me, love?” He asked as he thrust into her hand. 

Riley nipped at his bottom lip before responding. “Yes Liam, I need you.”

He quickly removed his pants, lining himself up with her entrance. Pressing his forehead to hers, and looking deep into her eyes, he eased himself into her carefully, desperate to feel every inch of her. He paused for a moment, allowing her to adjust before slowly rocking his hips against her. 

As they moved together, Liam began sucking and nibbling on Riley’s earlobe. Riley whimpered in response, her hands running up and down his muscular back. She wrapped her legs around him and dug her heels into him, urging him to move faster. He complied, and almost immediately, he felt her walls starting to clench around him. 

“That’s it Riley. Cum for me, love.” He locked eyes with her again, bringing one hand to her cheek to ensure she held his gaze through her release. 

Riley’s back arched as she lost control, the muscles in her body tensed, and she screamed out in pleasure. “Oh god Liam, yes!”

Watching and feeling Riley come undone was all Liam needed to push him over the edge. He thrust into her one last time with a guttural groan as he filled her with his seed. 

They laid still for several moments, Liam resting his face in the crook of Riley’s neck, breathing in her scent as his breathing slowly began to return to normal. He then removed himself from her and laid on his back, pulling Riley to his side. She rested her head on his chest, and he responded by planting a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. 

“Are you feeling better?” She tilted her head up to look at him. 

He stroked her cheek and smiled softly at her. “Much. Thank you Riley.” Their lips met in a brief kiss. 

“Good. Now please try to get some sleep, we’re going to have a lot to figure out in the morning.”

“Of course. Riley?”

She looked up at him, eyelids heavy. “Hmm?”

“I love you, so much.” He kissed her on her forehead. 

She smiled and leaned into him, placing several light kisses on his chest. “I love you too, Liam. Always.”

He let out a content sigh and tightened his arms around his wife as they both drifted off to sleep.

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[koutarouthighs]

『 strawberries & wicker baskets 』

S U M M A R Y ― sunny afternoons call for a basket filled to the brim with fruits and other treats, your lover across the blanket, sighing as they take in the sight of you with your skin glittering under the sun.

post type ➺ headcanons fandom  ➺ haikyuu!! characters  ➺ kuroo ⧾ akaashi ⧾ sugawara  genre➺ fluff tags/warnings ➺ established relationship ; alcohol mention ;  word count ➺ 1.9k+ request ➺ [YES/NO]     ↳ request status: *.·:·.✧ O P E N ✧.·:·.*

⤭ kuroo enjoys getting outside now and again because his job can be very much a shut-in, indoor-only occupation. whether he’s going from arena to arena, or spending days behind a desk answering emails, he is stuck inside much more than he’s allowed outside. ⤭ he’ll set up the entire thing with no prompting. kuroo is a big dork, after all, and he loves to surprise you with some romantic gesture, such as an intricate picnic packed safely away in a large brown, woven basket, the neck of a bottle of wine peeking out.  ⤭ depending on how stressed you both are, kuroo will sometimes have it be a surprise. he’ll call your boss, get you the afternoon or weekend off of work, and manage to corral you into heading to the park or the beach or the lake with him. ⤭ kuroo is so ecstatic to get you out on the green with him that he forgets napkins and you end up having to use the checkered blanket to wipe off your fingers after tetsurou has offered to suck the strawberry sugar off your digits.  ⤭ the warmth cascading down from the rays of sunlight filtering through the trees is nothing in comparison to the absolute beaming light from kuroo’s smile as he looks down at you, where you lay on the blanket. there is not a moment where you are not completely, utterly loved in the presence of kuroo tetsurou. 

more below the cut ↴

your pinkies are linked as you stroll through the sand, heels dug into the beach when you find your perfect spot. kuroo is yanked by your fingers circling his wrist, eyes widening a hair as he swivels to turn and look at you, “here? this is the spot?”

you don’t even have to nod, he already knows your answer. you wouldn’t have stopped him otherwise. so he works at getting the blanket laid out perfectly so there aren’t any annoying granules of sand getting in your food or underneath your clothes. he strategically lays out your shoes, one on each corner, so the blanket won’t go flying at the first signs of blustering winds.

the beach brings serenity and clarity, both of which you disturb with loud laughter and busied hands. your giggles are interrupted by wine-drunken kisses, warm and wet and reminding you much of the ocean. the spray from the waves salts your hair and your face, but you don’t mind. not when you get to spend these careless moments with your lover. 

“i’ve missed you,” he sighs, framing your cheek with a large palm, encompassing your skin with a near unbearable heat. skin flushed, you lean into his touch, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks as you hum, “i’ve missed you more.”

“there you go again,” he near growls, playfully smirking up at you as he rolls his hips to pin you down, knees on either side of your body so he can hover over you, blocking the sun like the clouds in the sky. “always have to one up me, baby, can’t you ever let me win?”

you reach up to squeeze his cheeks in your grip, playing with the looser skin near the center of his face, smushing his lips together playfully. you shake your head, rolling your eyes dramatically, “if i stop challenging you, you’ll get bored of me.”

his words are garbled thanks to your pressured palms, but he manages to husk out regardless: “i’d never get bored of you.”

⤭ you are the one to set up the picnic, knowing that akaashi will spend all day and all night working on his publishing duties. sometimes it is up to you to drag him out of the work-filled abyss that blackens his days and elongates his nights. ⤭ he has dark circles under his eyes and he’s always sleeping in on the weekends when he gets a chance, so you spend the time in the morning one saturday packaging up a wonderful feast. fruits, sandwiches, champagne, all tucked away into a sweet little basket that you can barely hold up on your own. ⤭ akaashi wakes up and you’ve already got his pot of coffee put together, but you hold his cup hostage when he reaches out for it. his brow wrinkles and his eyes narrow, but all you can do is chuckle when you tell him to get ready, that the two of you are going out.  ⤭ once he’s had two cups of coffee and a shower, akaashi does not hesitate to stroll down the sidewalk with you, the basket in one hand and your palms linked in the other. he’s warm, inviting, and he’s always playing with the soft skin of your hand with his thumb, calloused pad drifting back and forth. ⤭ it’s nice for him to be able to take some time away from manuscripts and plotlines, to be able to enjoy the time alone with you. he’s a people watcher, and together you make up funny stories for all of the families and couples making their way through the park. after you’ve eaten, when you’re laying back and staring up at the clouds, he’ll tuck you under his arm and point out the shapes that remind him of anything significant.

﹢

“don’t you think that one looks like an owl,” he points to a cloud to the left, drifting through the air and dissipating more with each passing second. you laugh, pressing your cheek against his collarbone as your arm winds around his waist, “you think everything looks like an owl, kei. i think you miss bokuto.”

akaashi scoffs, resting his palm back against your shoulders to anchor you to him, “all of fukurodani remind me of owls, sweetheart, not just koutarou.”

“it’s the writer in you,” you murmur, tilting your head up to kiss his jaw nearest his ear, “always making an analogy out of something.”

he leans down, narrowing the space between your faces, and runs his nose against your cheek, “you have too much faith in me, darling.” you nip at the thin skin of his jaw, hitching your knee up slightly to rest on his thigh, the thick of it rippling at the sudden movement, “that would imply i believe without seeing, keiji. i’ve seen plenty of your talents.”

even though akaashi is not one for public displays of affection, he finds in this moment alone with you in the middle of a meadow, he is insatiable. his mouth finds yours and you taste of peaches and champagne, sweet but bitter, and he falls a little more in love with you then.

“i love you too,” you whisper, reading his mind and seeping into his bones with your burning touch, eyelids flittering, unwilling to open and break apart the serenity of your kiss.

the bow of your lips meet his and he swears your handprint is seared into his heart, strings tied tightly and begging for you to play him like a fiddle. 

⤭ sugawara has picnics with his kindergarteners, he likes to take them outside for lunch at least once a month, if not more frequently. you’ve brought him his lunch to school at least once or twice and caught him mid teddy bear picnic, his bento box in your hand and a grin on your lips as he helps the youngest student tuck her napkin cloth into the front of her shirt. ⤭ it gives you the idea to create a picnic scenario of your own, only instead of on the playground underneath the shade tree, it is in the comfort of your own backyard as the sun goes down. ⤭ koushi is surprised to find you rushing in from the screen door that leads to the backyard when he comes home one evening, a late night after working on a new set of curriculum. he chuckles as he toes off his work shoes and finds the more comfortable house slippers to slide his feet into. ⤭ you grab him by the hand, eager to show him your masterpiece. he’s always been so kind and understanding, so easily excited by your innocence and wonder at the world. it reminds him of the wide eyes of his students, begging to soak in every word he speaks until they are gorging with information. ⤭ the way you bob on the balls of your feet makes him chuckle, his knuckles finding yours so he can slot your fingers together to the base. he squeezes before he turns his attention to the scene you’ve set before him.

﹢

“wow, love, this is-” his voice sticks in his throat, emotion overwhelming him after a long day at work, body begging to come home to you. you pull yourself closer to him, like a tether, a kite desperately trying to keep to it’s owner.

there is a spread near the firepit, a warm blanket laid flat with a plethora of food and drinks scattered across the entirety of it. he reaches around your shoulders to tug you into his chest, nose finding the crown of your head to bury his face into you, breathing in your familiarity. he realizes for what would feel like the infinite time that he is blessed with your saccharine presence, something he swears he’ll never take for granted. 

“d-do you like it?”

your voice comes timid, bashful. sugawara is quick to admonish you for your insecurities, tilting your chin up with the gentle tug of his thumb and index finger, and capturing your wavering tongue with his soft mouth. 

even when he peels away, you chase him, caring predator and cunning prey. your fingers wrap around the front of his shirt, begging him closer with a quiet touch. he smiles at your enthusiasm, relishing in the moment where you forget about everything else going on in the world but him.

sugawara places another kiss to your upper lip, gently guiding you to the blanket, “i love it, darling. of course i do. i’d love anything you do.”

you know he is not lying, not by the conviction in his tone and the searching in his touch. you lower yourselves to a crossed-leg position, close enough that your knees brush, and you begin to dig into every container set before you. even though you know what is splayed out, it is still a mystery as he unlocks the tops of the tupperware containers to display the treasures inside.

“i love you, kou,” you whisper after a glass too many of wine, but the words are honest all the same, regardless of the alcohol they’re tainted with. you grin lazily up at him, palm finding his pectoral as you seek his heat, “i hope you know how much i love you.”

sugawara brushes his fingers against your forehead, pushing away the hair that obscures your vision so he can see you in all of your glory, “only if you promise to know how much i love you.”

a giggle, like a champagne bubble rising to the surface only to pop when it gets too close to the sun, breaks the seam of your lips and you tuck your head underneath his chin to hide. sugawara draws you close, circling an arm around your waist until you are molded to his side, as if there were never even two people present at all. one soul inhabiting two bodies, stitched together by time and trials alike.

“i guess,” he murmurs against your temple, pressing a warm kiss there before turning his head to watch the sunset, “that just means we’ll have to spend the rest of our lives trying to prove it.”

[mizelophsun11]

Mizeloph's Tale Chapter 6

Pairing - It is still General Kirigan x OC Sun Summoner, but it will eventually become Kaz Brekker

Summary - There are still unanswered questions about Anna and the Crows are discovering that there is history. Inej wants answers and all Kaz wants is to push it all down, but will he? Or will he answer some questions of his past he never thought would matter.

Word Count - 1679

-

Kaz had been working hard to find a way across the Fold, through his troubles he was able to acquire a man named Arken Visser, his title being The Conductor. With Arkens skill they had a way through the Fold, but there was more that Arken had in his clutches. He had also acquired access to a Heartrender who would be the key to getting them into the Little Palace. Arken has been annoying Kaz, he needed to make sure Arken knew his place within the group.

“I didn’t hire you simply to get us across the Fold” Kaz said “You’re with us because you have an understanding of smuggling Grisha out of the Little Palace, which is where our target is”

“Yes the Sun Summoner” Arken said

“Alleged” Kaz countered, he was still doubting that there was a possibility of his childhood friend being the Sun Summoner, for him Kaz would not believe it until he saw her

Inej rolled her eyes “Kaz, they would not keep a fraud in the most secure location in all of Ravka” she knew that there was more to what Kaz was saying with calling Anna the alleged Sun Summoner

“Anna Mizeloph is not guaranteed to be the Sun Summoner. Inej there is nothing right now that proves she is the real deal” Kaz was still in some sort of denial streak surrounding Anna

“But Kaz she is real, I don’t know when it will go through your mind, there is no reason to argue that she is the Sun Summoner” Inej was trying to get a point across

Kaz gave Inej a look “we will continue this discussion later” Kaz turned to Arken “This contact we are meeting up with, you are sure they can get us into the Little Palace?”

“Yes, she is a Heartrender after all, someone that I trust, not once has she led me astray so far” Arken was showing them the way to where Nina lived

“Even if you trust her, how do I know we can trust her? There is no use if she is persuadable in any way” Kaz didn’t want to be blindsides. This was a big job and so he didn’t want to put his trust towards the wrong person, there was always the change that this Heartrender could turn on them during their mission when the time was right

“Nina grew up there..” Akren started but was cut off

“Most Grisha grow up in the Little Palace” Jesper said, the key word being most

“Very few would betray their general, and fewer would help foreigners kidnap their one of their most prized possession” Kaz needed more than just Akrens word, there needed to be something else to convince him that this was smart

“Nina is what you say.. A radical, she thinks that Grisha should decide for themselves if they serve the Crown or not, she despises involuntary service more than she does Fjerdans” Arken knew that this was a good convincing point, but from Kaz attitude, Arken knew that he might have to drive the selling point a bit more when they meet Nina. That way Kaz would be able to evaluate Nina himself and see how trustworthy she is for this mission.

They arrived at the inn where they would meet Nina, on their way in Kaz noticed the innkeeper counting Fjerdan krydda. He knew that probably meant Nina would not be in her room and he was correct. They opened the door and the room was in disarray, chairs were on the floor and evidence of a struggle was prominente. The way that Nina’s luggage was unorganized was evidence that someone possibly searching for something and then abandoned it. As everyone began to search for any clues about what had happened, through the search Kaz looked around the bed then flipped over her suitcase hood with his cane to find a Drüskelle pendant underneath.

“She’s gone, kidnapped it seems” Kaz picked up the pendant

Jesper walked over and looked at what Kaz was holding “what is that?”

Akren walked over and saw the pendant “Drüskelle. They are ruthless Grisha hunters.. But I don’t understand how they would have found her, Nina is always very careful”

“The innkeeper, he was counting Fjerdan krydda when we walked in, most likely he ratted her out” he tossed the pendant back onto the bed not needing it

Arken sighed “If they did take her she is probably on a ship to Fjerda by now..”

Kaz looked out the window “they had a clear line of attack” he looked over at Inej “take a look, make sure there aren’t any more surprises” Inej nodded and began her search to see if there was any more surprises

They left the inn and stood outside waiting for Inej to come back, Kaz was already trying to think of another way into the Little Palace. There had to be another way in besides Nina, but at the moment Kaz could not come up with something. While the idea of having an insider to the Little Palace was smart, Kaz was glad that it would continue to be the four of them.

“Well.. that’s that I suppose” Jesper said

Arken nodded “We lost our way into the Little Palace”

“All clear” Inej said when she go back to their group, she was glad that there was no one left, but that meant the Fjerdan had been gone for a while and their contact was far away by now

“This seems like a reasonable juncture to abandon this whole Sun Summoner plan” Arken knew that there was no use now since the key to this ploy was probably on a ship

Kaz glared at Arken “Abandon? We’re in this now, I know what a million kruge means to me, what does it mean to you?”

“Freedom” Inej answered right away

“Fun. But it might not last very long, a few months at most” Jesper smiled

“..Retirement” Arken had been working for so many years, he was ready to never have to do anything again until he eventually died a natural death

“Right, so we push forward” he looked over to Arken “get us across the Fold, when we get to the other side I will figure out the rest”

Arken sighed “fine, to cross the Fold I will need 20 pounds of Alabaster coal, a peck of Majaloun jurda that is not the kind from Kerch, it's too weak and a goat. Now, we must meet in the dead of night, there is a wreckage of a skiff northeast on the edge of town”

“Sooo.. who gets what?” Jesper asked knowing divide and conquer was the best way to get everything

“Inej, get the jurda. I’ll get the goat and Jesper..” he pulled out some money and handed it to Jesper “just the coal, no detours” Jesper nodded and walked off

Everyone started to go their separate ways, but before Inej disappeared she wanted to continue their conversation now instead of waiting. Kaz noticed and stopped, he had said they would continue with what they were talking about earlier and he guessed Inej wanted to do that now. He knew that she still wanted some questions answered about Anna and what his past with her was, it would be better to just get it done and over with now instead of continuing to push the topic away forever. Kaz would much rather continue to push everything down, but knew that it would become more bothersome if Inej continued to fight with him about Anna.

“Inej, I want you to focus on this job, but that doesn’t seem to be possible unless we have one last conversation about Anna Mizeloph. I want your entire focus on the job after this discussion, understood?” Kaz said sternly, he wanted everyone focused and right now that did not seem possible for Inej unless they had one more discussion about Anna Mizeloph

“Alright, why are you in such denial about Anna Mizeloph being the Sun Summoner? I know that you don’t believe in Saints, but I feel like there is something more” Inej was digging for answers and wasn’t sure what she would find

Kaz sighed “what I say stays between us, understood? I don’t want you even talking to Jesper about what I am about to tell you”

Inej nodded “yes, of course, this will stay between us I promise” she had expected a bit more of a fight from Kaz, but decided not to question it

Kaz looked down at his gloved hand that was not holding onto his cane, opening and closing it and taking a deep breath “she was.. Everything to me. We stuck together, maybe in the beginning it was out of necessity, but it became something more. There was not a moment where we were not together and when we were split up, for me it was as if another piece of me had drowned in that ocean” Kaz could remember how he would always comb his fingers through her long white hair, it was what he did to calm her down. Something to her that she was so self conscious about was the key to making her feel at peace for once. He looked down at his own hands that were covered by black leather gloves, they were not always like this. Kaz never felt so vulnerable because of one person, the details of when they were together never faded. However, he needed to push all of that down and pretend like he had moved on, but in truth he never did.

“Kaz..” Inej could tell through him talking about her, Kaz was bringing emotions back he never planned on having “thank you for telling me”

“Now I want you to focus on the job, go get the jurda” Kaz said walking off to get the goat

Inej nodded and disappeared, she felt a bit better and even though there was the risk of pushing Kaz too far, Anna Mizeloph seemed to be the only exception.

-

Author Note - Thank you so much for everyone support! It has meant the world to me that there are other people who are seeing my work and enjoying it! I am sorry these chapters might take longer depending on how much editing I decide on doing. I have also been busy with just life and having to run around getting things done. I hope that I can start posting a bit more! I also love seeing everyones comments so please continue to leave them or pm me because I really enjoy talking to everyone!

Tag List - @rika90 @itsemy01 @hotleaf-juice @teatimeforusreaders @benbarnes-supremacy @graciefullygracie @aleksanderwh0r3 @klaudosh @herbatkazmiloscia

[ghoulcaclulator64]

I posted 6,770 times in 2021

39 posts created (1%)

6731 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 172.6 posts.

I added 171 tags in 2021

#cookie run kingdom - 26 posts

#mtg - 26 posts

#cookie run - 26 posts

#magic the gathering - 26 posts

#custommtg - 25 posts

#custom mtg - 25 posts

#crk - 5 posts

#pokemon - 5 posts

#fakemon - 5 posts

#princess cookie - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 95 characters

#used to be obsessed with these little fuckers in kindergarten bc a friend had them at his house

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

honestly what makes for a better dilf cop cookie than an annoying hatebear

9 notes • Posted 2021-11-04 15:58:29 GMT

#4

Nice, now we’re moving onto the Uncommons (Uncommon is basically Rare for those new to MtG) with Avocado Cookie! She’s a bit expensive, but she has to be considering she has both a moderately strong defensive body and okay creature keywords AND can provide card advantage with her blacksmithing activated ability. Additionally, I’m going to try to write flavor text from now on so be on the lookout for that.

11 notes • Posted 2021-10-14 22:33:06 GMT

#3

introducing Dwaffin and Claebolld, the Star Nose Pokemon! New Ability: Demolish! When a Pokemon with Demolish enters the battlefield, it destroys the terrain, as well as any traps on its side of the field. Dwaffin, the Star Nose Pokemon Evolves into Claebolld at Level 44. Height: 0.4 m (1′06″) Weight: 24 kg (55 lbs) Egg Group: Field, Human-like “It digs slowly but steadily through areas of silty loam, where Weedle and Grubbin tend to nest. Dwaffin rarely ever encounters others of its kind.” “Dwaffin uses its star-shaped nose to hunt for prey, as its eyes are underdeveloped. It stays away from colonies of Efflin.” Claebolld, the Star Nose Pokemon Evolves from Dwaffin at Level 44. Height: 0.9 m (3′0″) Weight: 48 kg (110 lbs) Egg Group: Field, Human-like “Claebolld builds intricate nests which it calls home. Its star-shaped nose allows it to feel its surroundings with pinpoint accuracy.” “Its claws are strong enough to dig through rock, but also deft enough to work clay into different shapes. Claebolld’s hat is made of that sort of clay.”

15 notes • Posted 2021-01-30 18:43:33 GMT

#2

it has been A WHILE, but finally!!!! the water starters!!! the grass starter hopefully wont be as far behind this time, but as always please be patient with me uwu Rampup, the Flat Head Pokemon Evolves into Buckleram at Level 16. Height: 0.5 m (1′08″) Weight: 9.5 kg (21 lbs) Egg Groups: Water 2 “Rampup’s flat head is both extremely hydrodynamic and a sensory organ. It is most active during the dawn and dusk.” Buckleram, the Iron Head Pokemon Evolves from Rampup at Level 16, evolves into Hammeram at Level 36. Height: (4′05″) Weight: 87 kg (191 lbs) Egg Groups: Water 2 “Buckleram tend to form shivers of 20 to 50 members, but this is only to protect each other from the opportunistic Fintwitch. During battles and hunts, they act alone.” Hammeram, the Hammer Head Pokemon Evolves from Buckleram at Level 36. Height: 2.7 m (9′01″) Weight: 350 kg (771 lbs) Egg Groups: Water 2 “A pokemon with a steel-covered head and tail, Hammeram bashes through anything that opposes it. Despite the added weight, this undersea armor produces minimal drag, allowing Hammeram to outmaneuver its natural competition, Sharpedo.”

21 notes • Posted 2021-01-26 04:11:27 GMT

#1

tried to make a sorta-sableye that eats fossils and ended up making phineas and ferb lmao. they dont have much in the way of personality similar to the characters tho, just appearance

Palukari The Bone Eater Pokemon Height: 0.6 m (1′ 11) Weight: 12.0 kg (26.4 lbs) Egg Groups: Human-Like, Mineral Entry One: “With its strong claws, this Pokemon digs up fossils and similar remains to sustain itself. Because Mandibuzz prize rare fossils so dearly, Palukari is often on the run from them.” Entry Two: “Palukari dwells in hot desert regions, skittering on the sand in search of bones to eat. The hairs on its head can detect subtle changes in the wind, allowing Palukari to avoid sudden rainstorms.” Vulcandrill The Bone Eater Pokemon Height: 0.7 m (2′ 03″) Weight: 12.5 kg (27.5 lbs) Egg Groups: Human-Like, Mineral Entry One: “Vulcandrill lives in areas of high tectonic activity, so fossils end up on the surface quite frequently. Its steady hind claws allow it to carry those fossils back to its nest without tripping or toppling over.” Entry Two: “Vulcandrill dwells in hot volcanic regions, leaping across igneous rock in search of bones to eat. The hard rock that makes up its head is heatproof, so it fears little from the fire Pokemon that share its home.”

24 notes • Posted 2021-03-19 12:34:25 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hey steph! how long would you say you spent on sorting out fic recs and tagging them and all that stuff? just curious because i really wanna start a fic rec blog too

Hey Nonny!

UGGGHHHH Tumblr deleted my entire response, so I’m going to just jot out what I remember.

Depending upon how long you’re willing to spend, a LONG time. You guys have NO idea how much work it is, and how much off-tumblr time I spend doing it. When I keep saying “it’s a full time job” it really is. The blogging you guys actually see takes about 2 hours, from filing my blog to answering a few asks here and there, but the rest is ALL filing my fics and creating lists. 

Now, mine is “perfected to my liking” after two years of trial and error and headaches, but yeah, if you’re serious about becoming strictly a fic rec blog, prepare to put in a lot of time and effort. BUT to be fair, I’m ridiculous in my sorting and organizing... I have a weird OCD thing where I need stuff sorted in a certain way, and it takes longer than it probably should. But it works for me and it has become very streamlined now that almost all of my Ao3 bookmarks are finally sorted. In the beginning, when I decided I would start reccing fics, it was only meant to be a here and there thing, but then people kept coming to me more and more and that’s when I decided I needed to keep an offline list. So here’s some tips from me to you:

Keep offline lists. Tumblr fucks up enough that you WILL lose interest in redoing a big 50-fic list if tumblr decides that nope, today I don’t feel like posting your file because you didn’t refresh your page BEFORE typing it out.

Going along with the above, keep an offline masterlist of your read-and-tagged fics. All the recs I give you guys? They’re all on one of three list masterlists I have offline: GO Recs, FFNet Recs, and Ao3 Recs. This will be SO much easier for searching for topics when making new lists.

Do the lists WAY ahead of time. This has given me back many-a-Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday nights because I prep my lists ahead of time.

Develop the “public” system of filing for your things, and use that for your Masterlist, so you don’t have to redo it every time (so like don’t have just Ficname by author if that’s not what you want to do for your recs). For example, my system is this, emphasis included: Fic Name by Author (Rating, wordcount, Chapter count || WIP/AU if applicable || PODFIC LINK if applicable || list of personal and/or author tags here, even if they spoil the story; i’ve found some people with triggers appreciate that I tag EVERYTHING I find in the stories) – Author’s description or personal description if there isn’t one. Series link if it’s part of one. This way, all I have to do is copy-paste it into new documents for each list, and then copy-paste the whole list into the Tumblr doc. 

Also, re: the above, do the layout in Tumblr if you’re doing a Tumblr rec blog. It keeps the formatting consistent and I don’t have to fix it between Ao3 and FFnet if I just copy-paste everything into a blank Tumblr doc, and then copy paste THAT onto the masterlist. Trust me on this one. 

Draft everything. This goes along with all the above. I always “start” a list and put a big header so that I can find it in my drafts (that’s why they have the big bold H1 headers on them) and then hit “draft”. Then keep a list of your drafted fics in your preferred method of organization. I keep everything in Text Edit RTF files. I believe Alexx told me once she did spreadsheets. Either way, develop a system BEFORE jumping into this thing, because you will EASILY get overwhelmed if you aren’t used to high-stress levels.

Tag fics as you read them. Trust me on this one. Because it will save you MONTHS of re-reading every single bookmark so you can properly file fics. I do this on my Notes App with the story title, and then all the tags I know are popular requests or are for lists I know Nonnies have asked for.

Keep CONSISTENT in your tags. Don’t tag one thing O!verse but another Omegaverse. I had to redo a lot of my older tags because CMD+F was pointless on a document I purposely made to streamline the process.

USE Ao3′s TAGGING FEATURE for your bookmarks. Just make sure that if any of your tags are spoilerific, make sure you keep the rec private.

File EVERYTHING as soon as you bookmark it. It will save you a LOT of hours of going through all your recent bookmarks to file them. 

That said, HAVE A FILING SYSTEM if you’re keeping everything offline. Keep separate documents for each list... Trust me on this. I used to just have one document each for Fluff fics, for example, and put subheaders in them, and it just got messy and annoying as my fic reccing became more common and plentiful. Instead, have a nice list like this, for instance:

The grey dots next to some of them are old filing methods that I need to fix and pull out. Also, as you can see, every time I finish a list, I file it into Posted and start a new list appended with a Pt number. It just keeps the system moving smoothly. I also have a system for the coloured dots; Grey is Old and refile, Orange is drafted on Tumblr, and Orange and Green means it’s drafted and ready-to-post.

I also have an offline “drafted posts document”:

That also has a system as you can see, but it keeps me knowing what I’ve already got drafted on Tumblr if I forget to tag the files with the colour dots.

It looks tedious and complicated, but I promise you, it’s really simple once you’re familiar with my method. Which is why I’m saying, you need to develop this kind of system REALLY early rather than 2 years later like I did. This drafted posts list is only recent as of... February I believe is when I started it.

Hmmm. Ah, yeah, so you can see it’s a lot of work, and this is why I absolutely dislike HateAnons negatively criticizing my lists, because it IS a lot of MY free time, between 8 and 48 hours a week. But if you truly enjoy sorting and organizing like I do, it’s a bit easier to cope with. So, yeah, whenever I tell you guys “I need some time away” this is why, and usually I switch to playing video games or doing art, both of which I miss doing on the weekends. I’m trying to keep the Tumblr stuff to mostly Weeknights these days, so that it’s an extension of my day job. Funny how I have less free time working at home than I did when I wasn’t; because I feel obligated to always be on my computer now, and I hate that. Like right now, I just bought 2 new games to play and I haven’t tried them yet because I’m always working both day-job stuff AND Tumblr stuff on weekends. 

So yes, that’s another tip: Don’t let it consume you, and set a schedule. Don’t feel obligated to answer every request. When I am tired and I just genuinely don’t have the energy to dig through 1000+ fics to find 2 or three for an obscure ask, I usually make it an interactive ask – not only does it encourage community involvement and a sense of belonging for everyone, but I also discover new fics to read too! I am IMMENSELY proud and happy that my fic lists have essentially become “fic exchange” grounds. Before it was only on one or two lists, some timid new authors added their fics to my big lists, but now, since people SEE that I add their fics hidden in the notes to the main post, now everyone is happy to share their faves on the main lists AS WELL AS the smaller single asks. I like to think of myself of a “curator of happy things” so that’s what I like to do with these. 

That said, you have to also decide if you’re going to be this interactive as well. Because that adds an ADDITIONAL hour or so as you make a separate “MFL” document and file those too. It’s time consuming, but totally worth it because if I’ve read the fic, all I have to do to that post in my MFL list is add my tags and file that block of text :)

I hope I helped you out a bit, Nonny, and I hope you guys enjoyed seeing a bit of my process. If I can get OBS to work on my laptop, maybe I’ll do a short video so you guys can see me doing it live. 

Anyway, sorry this got long. :P

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

a little jealous

A/N: this was requested by anon, I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!

request: Could you write a fic post it chapter 2 where Richie and Eddie start dating, but then Richie starts to feel jealous of Eddie with an attractive coworker?

warnings: a few curse words, a very brief mention of homophobia, a bit of self doubt

They’ve been officially dating for two months when Eddie invites Richie to join him on a work related business party. It’s not the first one Eddie has had to go to, but up until now he had always made up an excuse so that he only had to stay for about an hour, not nearly long enough for Richie to tag along to.

The difference between this one and the others he has already been too, is that this time he needs to stay to the end. Eddie might be up for a promotion if his boss takes a liken too him, which is why he is determined to make a good impression. If Eddie gets turned down, he’ll probably leave his job and search for another one, Richie thinks, since Eddie had been going on none stop about quitting.  

Richie has been to his office before, on more than one occasion, when Eddie was so stressed he forgot his lunch, so it’s not his first Rodeo. He knows a few people that will attend, like Anisa who is the secretary on the bottom floor, Emmet who is Eddie’s coworker and works in the office adjacent to his, and Karen who is about as much a pain in the ass as Eddie’s mom, but Richie loves to fuck with her.

Anisa is his best friend in the office, well of course besides Eds, but whenever he stops by, he always leaves some form of candy on her disk, a references to the first time the two met, when Richie accidentally dropped all the candy he was planning to surprise Eddie with. It had been Halloween, and even though Eddie didn’t celebrate it, none of the losers actually, Richie still felt the need to do something. They hit it off straight after, especially when Anisa confided in him that she had never seen Eddie smile as much as when he got together with him.

Emmet is a bit of a hardass, work till he drops, party till he drops kind off guy. Full-on in everything he does, which sometime is a little of putting, but it can also cause hilarious comedy gold moments, which Richie has used multiple times in his sketches.

He’s pretty sure his winning Karen over aswell, since he has even managed to get a small smile out of her, which is a hell of a lot more than he ever got from Sonia.

The others he knows only vaguely by the nicknames he gave them, ranging from boss man to toilet man, the latter spending all his time on the toilet if Eddie is anything to go by.

Still, Richie is very excited when he gets permission from Eddie to go with him, so much so that he’s practically bouncing on his foot whilst he gets ready. Eddie is less keen on going tonight, but that has nothing to do with the fact that Richie is going.

Ever since returning from Derry, the two of them don’t go out much. They meet up with the losers, but apart from that they usually spend their time inside of the confinements of their home, either fighting over he gets the remote, cooking, working or annoying the shit out of each other.

Neither of them want to either, they enjoy each other’s company, and those of the other members of the losers club. When they do go out, they always seem to run into someone they know giving them shit about being gay. ‘Oh Eddie, I thought you were still married to your wife?’ or ‘If it isn’t the trashmount with a boy. What happened couldn’t get enough girl anymore?’

Most of them don’t mean bad, and Eddie nor Richie are ashamed of their love, they’re just tired of having to explain over and over again, so they stay in.

Work parties are the worst for Eddie, who doesn’t even like most of his coworkers to begin with, but sometimes they are mandatory, and he has no choice but to drag his ass over there.

So Eddie grumbles his way through getting ready, shaving and brushing his teeth with a stern look on his face, picking out his and Richie’s cloths. ‘There’s no way I’m letting you dress yourself, you’ll look like a walking Christmas tree.’

They lose some time while they get ready because Richie tries to cheer Eddie up a bit, by threatening to dose him in cold water, welcoming the snappy warning Eddie sends his way.

By the time they make it to Eddie’s workplace, where the party is going to be held, it’s a quarter past nine, while they were supposed to be there at nine.

This does not do any wonders for Eddie’s mood, who’s scowl turns impossibly bigger. He almost trips over his own two feet in his haste to make it inside, but before they do, he tugs Richie aside by the hem of his sleeve.

‘Please act normal, I need this job alright?’

‘My Eds, you wound me. You think I would throw away your honor just for a few laughs from a couple of lads, I could never.’ Richie’s British voice thick his words with an accent, having the intended effect. A smile tugs up the sides of Eddie’s mouth, even when he desperately tries to hide it, rolling his eyes extravagantly.

‘See that’s what I mean dickhead, don’t do the fucking British guy or I’m dumping you.’

He’s clearly joking, so Richie doesn’t dignify it with a response, though he does snort a little in amusement. ‘Sir, yes sir.’ He calls out long after Eddie has turned his back, cackling when Eddie flips him the bird behind his back. Fondly, Richie follows him through the long corridors, first turning right, then left, left again to eventually enter a massive open space, not to far from the bathroom Richie always uses when he comes to visit.

‘Hey, if you want to get out of here, just use the word salmon for whatever, than we’ll skoot on right out of here, Eddie Spaghetti’, Richie whispers inconspicuously to Eddie, trying to avoid being heard by somebody else. He hopes he succeeded, but by the looks of it, he did.

Eddie shakes his head fondly, his hand interlocking with Richie’s with a warning squeeze.

‘Shut up you idiot’, he mumbles fondly, the look in his eyes radiating nothing but love for the man in next to him.  

They spot Anisa first, the sour look on her face melting away when she sees the two of them entering. She grabs two more drinks, balancing a total of three drinks in two hands, and offers it gracefully to them.

‘What took you guys so long?’ The voice of Bon Jovi booms through the room, originating from a djs-table in the left corner, making it hard to understand what she’s saying.

‘Mister clean over here had to be completely dosed up for this occasion, I think he changed cloths like three times, isn’t that right Eds?’ to be fair though, Eddie looks horrendously handsome, it’s almost criminal. His suit accentuates all the good features of his body, which is everything, his dress shoes make a squeaking noise every time they walk over the floor, and his hair is neatly combed back, making him look even more attractive than he already is daily.

A huff is forced out of him when he feels Eddie’s elbow dig slightly into his side. Eddie glare is turned up to a hundred.

‘Do you know how unsanitary it is to not wash every day? Do you know how many germs are transferred onto your hand by just touching a doorknob? If I didn’t wash up you know statistically speaking I have a 40% change of catching a disease? You know this asshole, why would you need to-‘

He’s intercepted by Anisa; ‘you two are so cute together’, and Richie couldn’t agree more. He takes a sip of his drink; which is champagne apparently, and is seconds away from asking Eddie who his boss is supposed to be, when a man Richie has never seen around the office makes an appearance, sliding in front Eddie’s left to give him a tight hug. By doing so, he breaks the link that Richie and Eddie hands still had, rudely shoving Richie slightly back.

He frowns, but does nothing as he waits for Eddie to introduce them. Anisa, who is still standing with them, looks to be as flabbergasted as he is.

‘Eddie, look at you. Handsome as always’, the man compliments while pulling back, his eyes shamelessly raking over Eddie’s form.

Eddie laughs politely, thanking him while reaching for Richie’s hand again. ‘Yeah, good to see you to Seth, this is my boyfriend Richie Tozier’, Eddie explains when the guy, Seth, makes no move to introduce himself.

Seth forces a curt nod towards Richie, not so much as a hello. It irks Richie to no end, but this might the one Eddie’s trying to impress, and Richie is not enough of an asshole to ruin Eddie’s chances because he’s annoyed.

‘I’m going to find Emmet, I’ll see you guys later’, Anisa tells them, as she turns around and walks off, something Richie would love to be doing now too.

He stays rooted to his spot though, trying to make himself as big as possible. It must look a bit ridiculous, but he can’t help it, there’s something about this guy.

‘So, have you managed to talk to the boss man yet? The guy really likes fresh workers.’ He tries to joke, but it falls flat, and Richie can’t help but feel smug and a little sympathetic towards the guy, so he laughs a bit awkwardly. It’s better than not responding at all, he argues, but then Seth levels him with such an annoyed look that Richie can’t help but feel a little intimidated by.

He hasn’t seen that sort of look since Sonya, and for all his joking about her, he really was terrified that she would manage to convince Eddie to stay away from for good. Uneasiness sweeps it’s way through Richie’s body, the only thing keeping him slightly calm and stable, is the hand he’s holding.

Richie tries to change the subject, to distract himself from how weird he finds the guy, by asking how he and Eddie know each other.

‘We collaborate on projects from time to time, Seth works for one of our client companies.’

‘Yeah, and we wouldn’t be coming back to the same firm if it wasn’t for Eddie over here,’ he gestures to Eddie as if Richie didn’t know who the fuck that was, ‘I’ve never had a more dedicated, ambitious, articulated, clever –‘

While he continues to dish out compliments, Richie reaches his arm over Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him flush to his side. Obviously it’s wonderful to hear compliments, and god knows Eddie deserves nothing but that, but it’s quite off putting that the same guy keeps praising him at every turn, and not even acknowledges his boyfriends presence instead being rude.

Eddie response by pressing a kiss to Richie’s cheek, which is a lot of PDA for him, maybe to sooth Richie, maybe because it was an automatic reflex, either way, Richie takes a deep breath and manages to hold his tongue till the guy is finished talking.

‘Yep, that’s my Eds, nothing but the best. I’m lucky to have him.’

He looks up from Eddie’s face to smile brightly in Seth’s vicinity, not even trying to compete with him, just being brutally honest.

‘He’s just as ambitious at home by the way, you should see the poses he can bend into when we’re-‘

‘Beep beep, Richie’, Eddie’s voice, sharp as the edge of a knife cuts in. ‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence you prick. And don’t call me that.’

Richie cackles, gripping his stomach with the one hand that isn’t occupied to stop himself from doubling over, Eddie’s angry face only making it worse.

‘Why do you call him Eds? He told you he doesn’t like that.’

Richie’s head snaps back up again, and this time, he feels actual anger. It’s one thing to flirt with Eddie in front of him, or be rude to him, Richie can deal with that, at least on the outside. But insulting their nicknames? He knows for a fact Eddie only tells him to stop calling him that out of habit, Eddie having admit to that himself, but this guy had no right commenting on it.

Eddie himself seems agitated now, in a truly fashion, one that he has never used to talk to Richie, but before he can say anything, another man steps their way, extending his hand and waiting for Eddie to shake it.

‘Mister Duke, how are you sir?’ Eddie asks a little nervously, and Richie lets his arm drop down. He refuses to let Eddie be denied this opportunity by homophobia, even if he isn’t sure that the man is homophobic, he’s not ready to take any changes.

With a gesture over his shoulder, Eddie follows who Richie presumes is his boss over to a table with man who looked like they stepped right out of the TV show suits, but Richie declines to walk with him.

Eddie needs a chance to prove himself, and Richie was just going to support him from where he was standing.

For a minute, he forgets Seth is still standing with him, until he opens his mouth again.

‘You know you’re only dragging him down right?’ He asks cruelly.

Richie frowns at him, his hands closed in fists, trying to lure himself away from his breaking point.

‘He would do much better with me. What do you have to offer? Money? I’ve got plenty of that, and at least I have status. Some small town comedian who flunked at his show that one time, and still hasn’t made a comeback yet. You look about as disheveled as a homeless men, and I can’t say I see much love between the two of you. You annoy him, and you might find it funny, respectable people don’t. Leave him before you ruin him like you ruined yourself. I could take better care of him than you ever could.’

After his monologue, he stares Richie down with a cocky expression, seemingly daring Richie to respond. When he doesn’t get one in ten seconds, he trudges on, probably to on to the next person to bother.

Richie feels like all the bones in his body have turned to liquid as he struggles to stay upright. For a moment he gazes around the room in shame, because it seems like a scene from a movie where everyone looks on to the bully annihilating some nerd, as that is the exact same emotion Richie comprehends, before he realizes that everyone is caught up in their own conversation, and he too walks off, going to the bathroom.

He knows Eddie will search for him when he’s done with his conversation, but for a moment that thought is put on the back-burner as he starts to get a little faint. It takes longer than it usually does to reach the toilet door, in the meanwhile he’s had to shrug Emmet of and ignore Anisa’s callout, but none of that matters when he finally gets there.

As soon as the door closes behind him, a loud sob leaves his throat. Only one sob is allowed to leave his lips, he argues with himself, so he resumes to silent tears only after that.

Overreactor, his traitorous mind hisses at him, and he knows it’s right, but he can’t help how he feels. He survived a fucking clown alien attacking him, and even that didn’t make him cry until he thought Eddie might have died.

However, he knows that Seth had a point, Richie is really not good enough for Eddie. And maybe Seth could be, at the very least, he did have a stable job, and he thinks highly of Eddie, maybe he was right, and he should leave Eddie so he can grow to his full potential.

Some times goes by while he’s thinking it over, and in the meanwhile he has moved to wash his face by the washing bins, scrubbing the area around his eyes to make it appear like he wasn’t crying. As he’s doing this, he hears Eddie call out to him. ‘Hey dickhead, you in here?’

The door whips open, clashing against the wall with a loud bang so hard that Richie flinches for a moment. A worried looking Eddie is standing in the door opening, his tie undone atop his blazer, and his frantic eyes searching the door, calming down slightly when he sees Richie.

‘Hey, why are you taking so long, you fall in the toilet or something?’ Eddie tries, a futile attempt at ignorance, Richie can clearly see how perturbed he is, but he’s kind enough to let Richie come to him.

Instead of telling Eddie the things that are on his mind, Richie tries to force a way around the topic, by using humor and creating a joke. ‘Well Eds, I was just about to call your mom, to declare my love for her.’

‘Richie’, Eddie sighs, running a hand over his face like he’s trying to mentally prepare himself? By the tone of his voice, Richie understands that Eddie is asking him to tell the truth, to speak what’s on his mind, but that can be so hard sometimes, so in lieu of having a conversation with Eddie, Richie starts to cry.

A hand pushes it’s way up to his mouth, trying to desperately to muffle the cries of despair, shame was again white hot present in his mind. Eddie looks shocked for about a second flat, before rushing over to Richie, grabbing his neck and pushing his head against the crook of his shoulder, rubbing his own hand up and down Richie’s back, and the other one through his hair.  

‘Rich, it’s okay. You can talk to me dumbass, that’s what boyfriends are supposed to do.’

There’s nothing but silence for a few minutes, which Eddie grants Richie, just trying to get him to calm down.

‘do you ever doubt our relationship?’ Richie finally asks, feeling the way Eddie’s entire body freezes up as if he was told Pennywise was back.

Richie hurries to continue. ‘I mean, if I’d had to choose between me and Seth, I’d pick Seth too. He has a good job and I might be out of one after waiting so long to go on stage again, and I look ridicules, and I push your buttons,’ Richie takes a break to gulp in a large gush of air. ’I’m just saying, I’d get if you would want to break up with me.’

Yet, when Eddie pulls back slightly, Richie panics before letting him get too far. Eddie laughs again, still close enough that their noses are pressed together with Richie bend down the way he is.

‘Hey Rich, you’re really fucking stupid you know that?’ Eddie says with a voice so incredibly soft and fond, Richie nearly melts to a puddle. He’s still stroking curl after curl on Richie’s head, comforting him best he can when they’re in a public bathroom.

‘You’ll have a job. You’re so good at being funny Richie. Even if I don’t say that enough. Besides, let’s say you don’t, you will but just hypothetically, I don’t care about that. I only want to spend time with you. You dress like a toddler, but I like that, it makes you look goofy, just like your personality.’

With a smile that’s showing his teeth, Eddie presses a quick kiss on Richie’s mouth, pulling back fast and firing two more in rapid succession.

‘I love you Rich. Not fucking Seth, Fuck that guy. I could never want to be with him, ever. I mean it when I say I love you dickwad, despite my questionable decision, I choose you.’

Richie giggles, hearty when Eddie stands on his tippy toes to kiss his forehead, and for a moment he feels like he’s five years old. He’s glad to have Eddie, and he’s even more satisfied that Eddie wants him back. Not amnesia could stand in their way, he’s so idiotic to believe a guy from Eddie’s fucking job could.

‘Now, come on. First I have to kick Seth’s ass for making my boyfriend cry. I have to set an example here. Then we’ll go home and cuddle okay? We'll clean the salmon or whatever the fuck sentence I'm supposed to make with that and skoot on home’

Richie shakes his head negatively, ‘what about your job promotion?’

As if suddenly remembering so, Eddie grins like a cat that go the cream.

‘Don’t worry about that, I got the job.’

When they cuddle at night in their bad, after a heavy make out session, and a small skype party with the losers in honor of Eddie’s promotion, Richie falls asleep, safely knowing that Eddie was with him, and he no matter what, he wasn’t leaving.  

[michelles-garden-of-evil]

Ian Martin’s Strange Paradise, Part II: The Top 5 Worst Things

Last week, I listed my top five favorite things about the first 44 episodes of Strange Paradise, when Ian Martin was headwriter and when the show had a very different feel to it than in the final four weeks of the Maljardin arc. But no creative work is perfect, and, despite my fondness for this show, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think that the writing for early Maljardin had several glaring flaws. Unlike Danny Horn, I don’t think that Ron Sproat was a better writer than Martin (actually, I consider Sproat the worst writer on SP), but that doesn’t mean that I don’t also feel that his writing needed some improvement. Note that this entry is specifically about the writing during this period, so things outside his creative control (e.g. the Conjure Man’s questionable casting) will be excluded from the list.

That said, here are my top five least favorite things about the writing in the first nine weeks of Strange Paradise:

5. Cheesy dialogue

More specifically, (1) bad jokes and (2) slang that was already outdated when these episodes originally aired in 1969. This one is #5 because, while these lines are cheesy, I can’t hate them because most of them make me laugh. Even my personal least favorite of Jacques’ jokes, the “pose” line from Episode 18, is kind of funny in an ironic, anti-humor sort of way, like the dad jokes that have become fashionable in recent years. While there are some jokes in this show that I find genuinely funny--Elizabeth’s Song of Solomon joke, for instance, or “the lady doth detest too much”--most others are the epitome of cornball. Sometimes you hear both in the same episode: Episode 21 is loaded with Devil jokes/puns that would be unforgivably corny if Colin Fox didn’t possess enough charisma to sell them, and yet the same episode also features a genuinely hilarious double entendre. The good jokes sneak up on you, sometimes amidst a hurricane of bad ones.

As for the slang, some comments that I’ve read mention that it was largely out of date even in the late sixties. My good friend Steve (with whom I often discuss SP) has told me that “you might not be aware of how campy that slang sounded in 1969 since you obviously did not live through the Sixties--this happened with a lot of TV shows during that period, the most egregious examples being the various ‘evil druggie Hippie’ episodes of DRAGNET.” Apparently Martin became infamous for using outdated slang later on when he wrote for CBS Radio Mystery Theater, putting lines like “I dig a man who’s far-out!” and “I think bein’ around here’s gonna be kicks!” in the mouths of some of his younger characters. Even if he had used up-to-date slang, it most likely would have still aged poorly (as slang typically does), especially for generations born after phrases like “the most” and “making the ___ scene” fell out of use.

4. Slow pace and excessive repetition

This one is also low on the list, because slow pace and repetition weren’t flaws when the show originally aired, but instead have aged poorly because of advances in technology that made them unnecessary. Before the advent of the programmable VCR, you had to be able to catch the program you wanted to watch on time or have someone you knew catch it on time and record it--which, in 1969, would have meant an audio-only tape recording. This meant that only the most fortunate and/or most loyal viewers would have been able to watch Strange Paradise every day, making it necessary to recap all the major events in subsequent episodes for those who missed out. This is also likely the reason why early SP (like most soaps of the time) has a relatively slow pace: if too much happens in one episode, you have to recap more and the people who missed the big episode are more disappointed.

Nowadays, with DVRs, video streaming, and DVD sets--not to mention certain legally-questionable means--it’s nearly impossible to miss an episode of your favorite show (with few exceptions), making extensive recap largely obsolete. Screenwriters can cram as many plot points as they want into one episode and no longer have to write five episodes of the other characters reacting to the news if they don’t want to.

Even so, just because the constant recap served a function at the time doesn’t mean I have to like it. It gets annoying hearing the same plot points reiterated episode after episode. Like I said while reviewing Episode 21, “if someone were to remake this show for Netflix or another streaming service, they could safely ignore about 75 percent of the original scripts and condense the remaining 25 percent quite a bit without omitting anything important.”

And don’t even get me started on the lampshading of absent cast members, like in Episode 9 when Jean Paul and Quito wasted two minutes searching for Raxl just to slow the plot down. It’s nothing compared to Ron Sproat’s “we must search for Quito” filler episode in Desmond Hall (Episode 78), but still, those scenes were pointless.

3. Extreme artistic license with certain historical/cultural details

Although Ian Martin did a surprising amount of research on certain subjects for Strange Paradise, there are some subjects where he either didn’t do enough research, or (more likely) made extensive use of artistic license. The first one is his portrayal of Jacques’ wife Huaco as an Inca princess despite their marriage occurring over a century after the fall of the Inca Empire. I discussed this all the way back in Part II of my review of the pilot, where I invented the theory of Jacques traveling back in time to marry her, but other possible explanations include Huaco being a 17th-century descendant of Inca royalty (as the Quechua people are still alive today), extreme artistic license, and/or critical research failure. I don’t know if we would have eventually gotten a good explanation if Martin had continued writing the series, but we would need a damn good one for the approximate equivalent of having a 21st-century character marry the Russian Grand Duchess Anastasia. I’m willing to suspend my disbelief and accept it considering that this is a fantasy series, but it still creates a lot of plot holes that need to be filled.[1]

Another example of artistic license about which I feel more ambivalent is the conflation of voodoo with the Aztec-inspired indigenous religion of Maljardin, which I’ve discussed before both in my Episode 23 review and Part I of this post series. I’m not sure if this is genius--religious syncretism is a real phenomenon throughout the Caribbean and Latin America, and some people today do syncretize the vodou Serpent God with Quetzalcoatl--or just an instance of Martin playing fast and loose with facts. I would like to think it’s the former, but it could just as easily be the latter (hence why I referenced it on both lists--I have mixed feelings about it).

2. Annoying inconsistencies

Does Raxl know that Jean Paul is possessed by Jacques Eloi des Mondes? Does Vangie? Why does Jacques’ portrait disappear in some episodes after he possesses Jean Paul, but not in others? All three of these things vary from episode to episode, and change annoyingly often as the plot demands. Steve and I have also discussed this subject in the past, and he believes that Martin used this device to make the story easier to follow; if that’s the case, it appears that he used Raxl and Vangie as audience surrogates, especially for new viewers or people who didn’t tune in every day. But surely there were other ways to do that without creating continuity errors? It may have served a function, but that doesn’t make it good writing. What Martin is essentially doing is filling and reopening the same plothole, episode after episode.

Regarding the portrait, I don’t know how much to blame Martin’s scripts for this inconsistency and how much to blame the directors, as I don’t have access to any SP scripts beyond the pilot script and the Vignettes. However, I’m going to assume that he’s at least partially to blame, because at least the pilot script mentions the disappearing portrait (which literally disappears in all three of the Paperback Library novels), Also, while none of the characters ever mention the portrait vanishing (unlike in the tie-in novels), some of his episodes have characters looking at it while Jacques is controlling Jean Paul and commenting on the uncanny resemblance. See also the diegesis tag for more discussion and analysis of the disappearing portrait.

1. Tim’s subplot

It should surprise none of my regular readers that Tim’s subplot is my #1 least favorite thing about the first nine weeks of Maljardin. I’ve already written an entire post about why I dislike this subplot, so I’ll keep my discussion of it here brief. Jean Paul saves the life of artist Tim Stanton when he hires him to paint Erica’s portrait, but then does nothing to make the commission easy for him--which is not a bad set-up for a plot in and of itself, but the execution is terrible. Tim chooses to use Holly as his model despite her barely resembling Erica, and Martin mostly uses their subsequent interactions to drive the old, tired, clichéd plot where two people who bicker and hate each other at first eventually fall in love (or at least he appears to be setting that up[2]). The payoff for the Holly portrait subplot finally occurs in Episode 33, but it’s underwhelming (not to mention barely recapped) and the already bland Tim quickly becomes a background character. In short, his subplot is a boring waste of time and should have either had more payoff or--preferably--been scrapped altogether.

That concludes my list of the worst things about Ian Martin’s Strange Paradise. Stay tuned for my review of Episode 45 within the next two weeks.

{<- Previous: The Top 5 Best Things }

Note

[1] Interestingly, there is a possible (if unlikely) historical explanation for Huaco’s sister Rahua having “skin as white as goat’s milk” and “hair like ripened wheat.” An early Spanish account of the Chachapoya people (aka Cloud People) of the Northern Andes describe them as “the whitest and most handsome of all the people that I have seen, and their wives were so beautiful that because of their gentleness, many of them deserved to be the Incas’ wives and to also be taken to the Sun Temple.” Assuming the Spanish account isn’t made up, this proves that reality is sometimes unrealistic.

[2] Thankfully, given the soap opera genre, it’s unlikely that Tim and Holly would have stayed together forever, even if they had eventually fallen in love during their painting-and-bickering sessions. Even so, that doesn’t make it a good subplot.

[goodnightallwhites]

♥ Liz, Blacked ♥ by Zenalite

Chapter 0 - Friend ♥

Liz got dragged on a trip with her parents while her boyfriend, Kyle, stayed home. While they were both introverts that spent all day inside, Kyle remained hyper-jealous of any attention Liz received from other guys. It didn't help that Liz insisted on keeping an Instagram to "feel good" about herself. She would always take a picture of herself in jeans or shorts, her showing her big booty to the world. Liz was a chubby redhead with no chest at all, but her hips stretched wide and her soft ass remained incredibly round. When she wore tight jeans the buns would fold over her thighs, the fabric stretching so much that the pantylines came clear. It especially bothered Kyle when some of the senior guys called catcalled her down the school hallways. But it was always the black ones that made a grab for her ass while Kyle watched, all helpelss. Liz cursed them and told him she hated it - though her cheeks reddened and she always giggled when it happened. And it hardly stopped her from buying ever-tighter pants and uploading pics that would get thousand of likes from old pervs. Kyle never found the courage to stand up and tell her to cut it out. She was so sweet on all other matters, and he felt so lucky to have her and so afraid to lose her that he learned to keep his mouth permanently shut. When she arrived, Liz texted him a picture of a large cabin surrounded by looming pine trees and distant peak, insisting that she couldn't stop sweating and it was much warmer than it looked. That wasn't on his mind. What about the guys? How many guys were there? But Liz would answer that herself... :there's such an annoying guy here omg: :what's he doing?: :annoying me: :maybe he's just trying to be friendly: :i doubt it lol he keeps asking me if i have a boyfriend: An hour later she Instagramed a picture of her with a guy, captioning: My new best friend! A black guy a little older than they were, very skinny, with his arm wrapped around her shoulder as they both smiled at the camera. Kyle's stomach twisted in a knot and a cold chill went up his spine. Why did this have to happen? She later explained that the guy wasn't so bad and she ended up making friends with him. During the call, she kept giggling and insisting at that other guy to stop, till she finally told Kyle she would call back and hanged up. Kyle broke down. He wept, frustrated by this black guy that would steal his beloved Liz. He decided to write her an email, pouring in all his sadness, trying to make her feel his hurt while justifying his jealousy sparked by her careless behavior. Liz responded. She apologized for her behavior but also wondered what she could do to stop this from happening since it was out of her control. Nevertheless, she promised to keep away from the guy and reminded Kyle that they had been together for years and always would.   But that wasn't enough. What he needed to know was what had happened already. He answered saying that all would be forgiven, so long as she remained truthful. The question was whether or not the guy had touched her. :yes: :and what did you do?: :nothing baby... i'm too shy to say anything: :you didn't tell me anything either: :because i'm scared...: Scared... For him, the arousal began to kick in. Thinking that the was being cucked from so far away, imagining that guy's hands going all over her soft and willing body, his white girlfriend submitting to a black guy, perpetuating the meme... :where did he touch you: :my butt i guess: :he grabs your butt: :yeah: Kyle couldn't help himself. The one question he would ask was the one that confirmed all cucks and opened the road to their annihilation. :did you like it: No response. Maddening. In that empty period he searched and found that Liz had added the guy to her Instagram and vice versa. Not only that, but she was featured in a post of his. She bent down to get something, and he managed to take a shot of her ass from behind, the fabric of her kaki shorts stretching to the breaking point as his hand hovered a centimeter away from making contact. Gonna get this white ass soon. Why was it always the case that black guys wanted her so much? Even her followers were always black guys... Finally, Liz texted back. :i'm sorry for all this: But later that night, on his page, he uploaded another picture of Liz, this time with the two of them sitting at dinner. So she wasn't avoiding him after all... Lying bitch. What's worst was that Kyle didn't know how to breach the topic anymore at all. It was likely that so much more was going on, but how could he begin to admit it? If he messaged her now and said that he saw the post, she would just get the guy to stop posting and he would be on the outs completely. The next day she texted him saying she hadn't spoken to anyone and that she sent her love. Meanwhile, he posted yet again. Liz lying facedown on a blanket, sunbathing in a bikini, her pale ass glistening.   Had he been the one to oil her up? Kyle was dying to know. The cuck in him was willing to sacrifice his dignity just to get to hear about it. He wrote to her that he was sorry about before, that he was too jealous, and that he would not mind at all if she spent time with that guy. :really? but won't you get mad?: She went on. :what if he touches me again?: :i mean if you don't mind i don't mind but i'd like you to tell me about it: Spoken like a true cuck. That sealed the deal. After this point, whenever Kyle would ask her what she was doing, Liz would tell him flat out that she was hanging out with her "friend". Questioned a little more, she would admit that the guy was trying to touch her up and flirting with her all day long. :i can't do anything about it: :i don't mind it: :you're so sweet ♥: :i actually think it’s kind of hot lol: A pause. :me too lol: So she liked it. Of course she did. It was all true. White girls melted before black guys. :is he touching you right now?: In response, Liz sent him a picture of her leg. On her pale thigh, just where her shorts ended, his black hand rested possessively, wrapping around... :that’s so fucking hot ♥: Kyle cringed at his own messages. :thanks sweetie…: Liz went and posted it to Instagram under the tags #interracial #interraciallove #vacation #teamblackboys. The thousands of likes soon followed. So this was what it was like to be cucked. :can i please see more ♥: :lol maybe if you’re good ^_^: His profile was full of pictures and videos of her ass, and now it appeared that he began to squeeze it for real. He laughed in the comments section at the fact that her white boyfriend was okay with all of it. Kyle jerked and stared as the same thing repeated on his screen: his black fingers digging into her pale flesh while Liz giggled happily and joking asked him to stop. Yet another white teen getting blacked. Was that not how it should be? Kyle got what he wanted. Pictures and videos flooded both their profiles, with them doing all sorts of things together. Finally, Liz topped it all when she posted a video of the two of them making out at the dinner table, while her parents could be heard clapping in the background at the sight of it. Young interracial love. They did it slowly, their tongues reaching out for one another, exploring each other's mouth, his black hand moving through her red hair and down to squeeze her plump butt. And Liz found it necessary to broadcast this to the world. Thanks to my boyfriend for being the sweetest and understanding my needs. Kyle, I know you're reading this ♥. The girls in comments congratulated their relationship for being so progressive and open, while the many guy followers laughed at Kyle openly. Total humiliation. And it was just the beginning.

Chapter 1 - Liz Thoughts #1

Liz couldn't sleep. All night long she thought of Derek. He had entered her life like a storm, stirring in her feelings she had never thought possible. Her whole body tingled with desire from the moment she put her eyes on him.   There he was, this gorgeous dark man, standing there shirtless, casually going around in cotton shorts that showed his dick swinging freely. And so big... How could anyone have a dick that big? She always heard that black guys were well-endowed, and a lot of the stuff she watched on her own was interracial porn, but she had never expected to see anything like it in real life.... "Who are you, beautiful?" he had asked, coming right up to her. Liz remained speechless. She couldn't remember what she had stammered in reply, but Derek smoothly ran his fingers over her arm and said he hoped to see her later. Her pussy ran wet constantly from that point on. And Derek put his hands on her whenever he could. Wrapping his arms around his waist, grinding her into his crotch, moving his hand down to grab her ass... She could feel the gigantic cock pushing against her, hot and hard, sending shivers down her spine... Please... With her parents right there. Was this real life? Not only did they seem to approve, but even Kyle began to asking her how it was going. They were supportive? Kyle seemed more desperate to see her getting blacked by Derek than she was. Her friends were right, he was a real cuck. But that made her happy. It was cute, and it gave her the freedom she needed... She still couldn't tell how she remained sane when he massaged her. Her parents had made her sunbathe with them outside, and when Derek returned with his family from hiking, he overheard her mother's cry that she use sunscreen and offered to put it all over her. His dark hands explored every inch of her willing body. Liz trembled and did her best to stop from moaning. Derek applied pressure all over, but especially when he kneaded the buns of her ass, spreading the suncreen all over, letting one finger occassionally slip between her legs and brush against her melting pussy. Liz wanted him. Needed him. Desperately. The more she thought about the stereotypical black-obsessed, cheating white girl she was becoming, the more it turned her on, and the more she loved it. Posting that video of the two of them kissing to Instagram had made her lose her mind, and she spent half the night looking at it, reading through the comments, finger-fucking herself like a lunatic as she imagined Derek fucking her. Better yet, fucking her in front of Kyle. Yes, that would be best... Breaking her boyfriend before her eyes and then breaking her in turn like a white slut and filling her up with his sweet seed. How could she sleep with this on her mind? With Derek just a door down from her...

Chapter 2 - Linking Up 

Things were strange.  While the overall number of messages between them increased, the sort of things Liz said and asked of Kyle made him uneasy. Why was she so interested in knowing his opinion all of a sudden? :have you ever jerked off to my photos?:  That was her original question that he gave a normal, understandable, positive answer to. :have you jerked off to the photos of me and him?: :yes: :lol:  The reaction alone made his guts wrench. There was no other reason to pose such questions except to humiliate him, and she seemed intent on doing just that... :why:  He took his time before replying again. :because you look so good together: :awww thanks baby...:  Liz and her family were about halfway into her vacation. Kyle hadn't left his room, never mind his home, for days. This whole thing remained surreal. The idea that she would come home and he would have to talk to her in real life after all this happened, or, worse, that kids from school would ask him what's going on made him feel sick.  What was there even to say?  Liz's profile grew and grew. More people than ever were liking her content and commenting positively on it, which seemed to increase the frequency of her posts.  Every morning she would have a dressing-up vid where she started off in her boyshorts, only to force some jeans or yoga pants over her fat butt inch by painful inch, pushing the waistband into the white flesh and jiggling it for effect, showing off before her black male followers.  #pawg #goodmorning #toobig  Everyone knew what his girlfriend looked like.  And everyone knew she cucked him.  As hot as it was painful.  Only in the darker moments after he was all fapped out did Kyle think to wonder about their future. :do you still love me?: :of course!!! how can you even ask that?: :because you're spending all this time with your... friend: :well he makes me very happy but in a different way:  As for what way that might be she soon clarified with another message... :in a way that you can't:  That was the crux of it, wasn't it? It wasn't that he was bad. It wasn't that he had been a bad boyfriend, or anything like that.  But he just happened to be a white loser, when he needed to be a black bull in order to satisfy Liz.  He knew this now.  It was easy to tell from the way she had fallen head over heels for this guy that it was nothing rational, nor based on trust and romance as their relationship was.  Liz simply needed a black cock in her life to make her feel whole. And it seemed to Kyle that by letting her get that, she loved him for it, even if she couldn't stop teasing him about it. :am i a good boyfriend: :the best honey: :could i do anything better?: :well not as a boyfriend: :then as what?:  A painstaking half hour until her reply. Did she just do this on purpose? :you could be a better cuck:  Kyle's heart drummed so hard he could barely hear anything else. Did she mean that? Did she want him to... :what can i do: :be a bit more supportive... maybe start commenting on my stuff:  So he took the time to make an Instagram account of his own, and on it added a picture of himself without a description, and followed her. Then he liked all her posts, and planted emoticons in the comment sections of most. :is this good: :nooooooo: :okay but why?: :there's no picture of us!!!:  He changed his account picture and added one they had taken together at a local faire. :now?: :and description:  Description... He could write his name, his age, but what else? :what do i say: :exactly what there is to say:  A few minutes later, he had come up with a description.  I'm Kyle, honored to be the boyfriend of @paleredliz, and proud to be cucked by her. I know my place. :is that good: :♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥:  Next she uploaded a video in which she tagged him in the caption. She was on the couch lying on her chest, with her ass in the guy's lap. First she smiled, and as the camera panned behind her, his black hand slowly rolled back her shorts, exposing her pale ass. Then his fingers plunged into the deep flesh, kneading it hard as she began to giggle.  When had he ever touched her that way?  Never, and he never would.  That beautiful round ass was the property of black men only.  Kyle let it play over, and over, and over....  Thanks to my boyfriend @cuckiekyle for being so supportive of me getting all the love I need no matter where it comes from. I love you, honey!!! #pawg #interraciallove #teamblackboys  Kyle finally found the courage and commented as well.  I love you too, it's my pleasure. You two really look so good together. #interraciallove  He couldn't believe what his hands were writing and what he was posting and yet he did it anyway. His cock just hardened all the more at the thought of all those people reading that comment and knowing that he was real, and that he truly did approve of this and spurred it on.  And the comments did come...  The hottest thing was just how many teen girls wrote saying he was brave and a proper boyfriend and that they wished they could be with someone like him. Not ugly girls. Gorgeous ones.All encouraging each other to take the same path and convince their boyfriends of accepting BBC into their life for the good of everyone.  Of course, plenty of white guys all called him a stupid cuck, but going by their ugly faces and their soulless profiles filled only with pictures of food, cars, and their dogs, he doubted they were doing much better.  The message was clear: White guys neither wanted nor needed.  Why be proud and suffer when you could submit and live well?  Liz texted him. :thank you for that: :i was happy to do it: :you really are a good cuck baby ^^: :thank you...: :i have a surprise for you: :please show me...:  The gift wasn't what he was expecting. Rather than receiving a picture or video of Liz, the photo was of her bull's crotch. He wore a pair of shorts that outlined his cock snaking down his thigh perfectly... with the head even popping out of them a little.  He did not need her prompt. :it's so beautiful!!!: :right it's huge and tummy:  Here he was, admiring another guy's cock with his girlfriend. But how could he not? It was so thick and long and black. She needed it inside her. He desperately wanted her to have it.  It was his duty to make sure she got it. :i can't wait for you to taste it: :lol you're telling me: :i'm so much smaller than he is: :lol but it's okay you don't need to use yours:  That was true. He would never have to use it for anything ever again except stroking himself.  He was, after all, just a white cuck.  Fucking was for strong black males. :should i invite him to my room tonight: :please do...: :okay i promise i will if you want me to:  Kyle waited anxiously for it to get dark. :did you invite him: :yes baby i did: :and??:  A video went up of them in bed together shot from her POV. Liz had her thick leg wrapped around him, her naked thigh gently brushing against his rising crotch. His bulge was huge. His hand rested casually on her ass in the corner of the video, the contrast of it maddening.  He needed to take it out...  This was followed by a video of the two of them making out, their Liz giggling as her tongue smacked against his, their faces lit by the glow television.  He had never seen Liz look so desperate and at peace at the same time.  Kyle commented on what a perfect sight it was. :holy fuck baby it's so big:  That could only mean one thing. :did you touch it: :fuck yes lol it's amazing: :can i see: :sadly no but maybe soon... more tomorrow: :please just a little bit... at least tell me about it:  There was no reply. He insisted. :please?:  Silence. 

Chapter 3 - Loyalty

The whole night he stayed await waiting for a reply until he fell asleep. By the time he woke up Kyle found his phone drained on his chest. He rushed to find the charger, excited out of his mind to see what Liz had been up to. Surely she has to have sent something by now. First his phone showed no messages at all. But then the thing buzzed in quick succession like a man in need of an exorcism. There were twelve messages from Liz along with some updates from his instagram. :baby!!! :i’ve got such a surprise for you… :^.^ And then over the following half an hour: :baby are you there? :honey :aaaaaaaaa :where are you now? :i was so excited to share this with you :i guess i’m not important enough for you :huh? :oh well :maybe tomorrow Kyle couldn’t believe it. He had fallen asleep only minutes before she messaged him, and he missed out on all of it! The frustration built up to such an extent he was moments away from crying. He had missed this once in a lifetime opportunity… :I’M HERE NOW :I AM SO SORRY :SO SO SORRY!!! There were no pictures sent to him - nothing. With trembling hands he went to check her instagram page and found that she had uploaded two different pictures. The first, posted sometime last night showed her grabbing something through fabric. But it didn’t take much for Kyle to figure out that the thing her dainty white hand wrapped around must’ve been the bull’s shaft through his shorts. The people in the comments thought as much as well. They spammed with messages about how lucky Liz was and how she needed to show them the full thing. And then there were a few cucks posting about how they couldn’t compete with anything like that. The second, posted an hour later, showed her pale butt in the glow of the TV getting palmed by the guy’s hand. The fact that the strong black hand could only fill up about half of her asscheek proved just how round and fat her ass truly was.   Now the comments were going crazy with appreciation for her juicy white ass, and plenty of black guys were posting about how they wanted a turn with her as well. :god, your pictures are amazing :you’re amazing Kyle stroked himself gently, trying not to come as he waited for her to get back to him. He needed to hear about her experience firsthand. About an hour later she finally got back to him. :glad you think so… :shame you weren’t there last night :i was going to let you give me directions Fuck, he thought. I’m so stupid. How could he have passed out like that? :i’m really sorry… :how can i make it up to you? :i’ll think about it :but first i still have a surprise for you It said: Liz is sending an image… Kyle swallowed hard, unbelievably horny. He wiped the sweat from his brow and squeezed his pencil dick hard. Not to come, but to keep it from doing so… The picture that arrived wasn’t what he expected.   He thought that it would be Liz making out with her bull or stroking him, or at the very least a picture of her together with him in bed. But the picture didn’t even feature his girlfriend in any way. Instead, it only had the bull. Only his BBC. Kyle stared at the beautiful cock that appeared on his screen breathlessly. It was neither hard nor soft but somewhere in between. The shaft jotted out like a log from the base, then slowly curved along with the pull of gravity, tapering down to the uncut head. Glorious veins branched all over it - he couldn’t begin to imagine how it must’ve throbbed in her hand. :do you like it? < 3 Kyle felt no hesitation in telling her the truth. :it’s amazing :he’s teasing me with it a lot :getting me to do dirty things :before i’m allowed to do more :like what? :secret, baby, secret :at least for now :but i did make you a video last night :though... :i was thinking you should prove to me how loyal you are :in order to get to see it :how? The reservations about posting on his cuck account were totally gone. He would do anything to get to see more. Anything at all. :how about you order yourself a nice chastity cage? Ah. Of course. After reading through all these blogs he knew that was a necessity. :I’LL DO IT :good honey <3 :as soon as you show me :i’ll give you your surprise video His mind reeled at the possibility of what that video might be. Her giving him a handjob? A blowjob? More? Surely she wouldn’t tease him in this way for nothing. It had to be something. He went on a search to find the quickest place to buy have one ordered, then realize it would be quicker to just go and get it in real life. He couldn’t wait a day for this. Kyle greeted his parents quickly when he came out of his room, then hopped on his bike and went to the nearest store in town to get one. Am I really doing this? he wondered as he cycled back with it in the bag. There would be consequences to all this. How could he go back to school? But the worries of a month from now all faded away for the time being. He locked himself up as soon as he got home and sent her a picture of his pink chastity cage. His pathetically small white dick fit snugly in it. :awww, it’s so cute < 3 :i love it darling :this is exactly what i wanted His fingers shook the phone as he typed. :can i see now? Liz is sending a video…   How could anything be this slow?

[thebarkingraccoon]

The Road

-Gif from Google image search-

Based on: Curative (Fanfiction.net - Quotev)

Summary: After the farm was overrun and the group is forced to survive on the run from a growing horde, Daryl catches himself thinking about Laura.

Request: @dren-whalen​  Cause you’re thinking about doing prompts, how about one about Daryl being on the road, of course being busy, but sometimes there are down times to think about Laura. 

Food was beyond scarce. Everything in the area had been scraped up long before they arrived. Whoever was here cleaned this town out like it was last food they'd ever see. Probably was, but that didn't make Daryl any less annoyed when he returned empty handed for the fifth time.

The town was called Tallulah, a little town that existed entirely on a handful of roads. The only thing that kept this town on the map was it's river with plenty of old worn out signs for river rafting, tubing, mountain trails, and waterfalls. It was beautiful here if they ignored the dead wandering around.

There was a police department they immediately rushed to for more ammo. Clearing out the cage there with whatever they could carry and, after securing it, took the department to rest in for the night. It wasn't much and the town was absolutely not secure. They had to be on guard.

A few split up. Glenn headed to a local grill just down the road and Daryl headed farther north to a trading post on the edge of the river. It was less likely to have any food, but there was always the chance for some granola bars or roast peanuts. Plenty of signs leading the way to make life easy.

It was quite the walk, but the road was beautiful. The forest was so overgrown some of the roads were covered in plant life. Other sections had been retaken by the mountain rocks, crushing the asphalt below. When the trees broke he could see out over the mountains, watching the shadows of clouds pass over.

Since this town was so far out of the way the amount of walkers in the area wasn't too bad. The time crunch came from when the horde started to reach the area. They had some time but never enough to rest fully.

Daryl felt that pressure rising when Lori started showing. He knew there was a time limit on how long they could go before she went into labor. Rick was already sweating since he had known since the farm. The clock was ticking and they did everything they could.

A big hand painted sign stood just to the side of the road. Some letters had since worn off, but there was still enough to make out broiled peanuts. The folks in these mountains sure loved them; sold them anywhere people could be found.

He hitched up his crossbow, pulling his poncho up over his shoulders to free up his hands. The trading post was bound to have walkers scattered about.

Sure enough, a few shambling corpses wandered aimlessly outside the store front. He brought his crossbow up, aimed, and took out the first one. When the body dropped the second walker turned around to see, spotting Daryl.

He rinsed and repeat, nothing really challenging out here. As he passed the bodies he retrieved his arrows and looked for a door.

A couple of cars with blown tires out front and a massive stair self of bird houses lined a wall. Enough wind chimes on the front awning to create a constant stream of metal twinkling music. There was hand made decorations all over, even the door rattled and chimed. The amount of noise this place made...

Inside a walker was alerted to the sound of the door chime. It hissed and growled, turning around to limp its way over. Barely able to move, but still doing its very best.

Daryl shot an arrow straight through its forehead then started checking the building for any others. As he searched he noticed a lot of clothing hanging up for sale, some hats, sunscreen, and handwoven bracelets on stands. No signs of those peanuts though.

He huffed his disappointment away, going to pick up the arrow from the dead walker. Hoping for something more, he started digging for anything worth bringing back.

Pushing aside racks full of junk, shifting through bags, and combing through the back counter. Still, nothing. He cursed under his breath; another waste of time.

As he came up to the racks in the middle of the building, he was faced again with the collection of handwoven necklaces, bracelets, and various charms. All small nonsensical trinkets not worth their weight anymore. But still he looked.

He saw a few peoples names. Andrea. Bethany. Was the closest to the youngest Greene girl. Carl was accurate. Caroline. Darryl. He frowned and scoffed at his own name, wondering who spells his name with two R's. Glen. Herschel...

Laura.

Daryl stared at it, the name, the bracelet with her name woven into it. He reached up tentatively and took it from the hook. It was rough, the material having sat there for so long had hardened it. Some cheap tourist crap to sell claimed to be handmade when it was mostly plastic.

His thumb rubbed over the lettering, clearing some old dust out of the way. The reflective pendant shining just a little brighter. The tag hanging off was folded over with writing inside it, so he decided to look.

The paper tag had Tallulah, GA written on it and a picture of rapids behind it. Inside the fold was printed;

"Latin, dating back to the 9th century, Saint Laura. Meaning: Bay Laurel. Represents: Victory and strength."

He chuffed, thinking about how silly it was he was sitting here an a trading post lamenting over a bracelet with her name on it. It was a generically made product to sell, nothing more.

But he had nothing of hers, nothing to remember her by. When they finally found a place to rest, what would he say goodbye to? The memories of her he kept close to his heart were tainted with vivid scenes of Shane attacking her, witnessing her fighting for her life against someone she should've been able to trust. How he wasn't able to help her... how she struggled against a virus none of them could do anything about.

She left, he had to force himself to remember that. She didn't die or get taken by the horde. Laura just... left.

It didn't matter if he went back to the farm to find her, she wouldn't be there. He didn't get to argue with her to stay or even get to say goodbye when she refused.

No more nights at the campfire skinning rabbits and sharing those bashful glances. That bright smile, her kind eyes. She was just... gone. As far as he could see she was gone forever.

And he had nothing to remember her by.

He swallowed hard as he felt his throat tighten, his eyes glossing over. He wanted to say goodbye so badly, because at least if she was dead he wouldn't have to worry about her so much.

Whenever they found a place to stop and settle, they would mark graves for the people they lost. As much as he wanted to mark that grave for Laura and bury his memories of her, all his feelings for her, he knew she wasn't dead.

Laura was out there somewhere wandering the world without them. How he pleaded in silence that she was okay out there. He just wanted her to be safe, with or without him. Wherever she was, if she's alive and well he could come to terms with her being out of his life.

Refusing to acknowledge the sting in his eyes or the swelling of his throat, he hooked the bracelet back on the rack and looked up. A small mirror hanging from the top of the rack for people to model the sunglasses and hats in.

He saw himself, his red eyes... and a sign behind him just peeking out from behind a fallen shirt rack that said "Broiled peanuts, this way." with an arrow pointing through the back door leading to the porch.

Daryl turned around, gingerly opened the back door on the look out for walkers, and spied a door at the end of the back deck. A white painted door that appeared remarkably untouched. Still, better safe than sorry. Daryl knocked on the door and waited for a sign something was inside.

When he was met with silence, Daryl opened the door to reveal tables full of packaged broiled peanuts. The place was stocked to the brim with them, all full.

Quickly, he grabbed as many bags as his pack could carry. Stuffing them in tight as possible before zipping up and heading back through the trading post.

On the way through, Daryl paused. He couldn't ignore his head telling him to stop.

He was fast about it when he swiped the bracelet off the rack. As if someone would spot him stealing a bracelet with her name on it.

Daryl stuffed it into his pocket and began the walk back to the others.

[girls-scenarios]

Be My Baby

Idol: Solji (EXID)

Prompt: May I get a Solji sugarmommy!Au where she sees y/n working some part-time job to help pay for college and has to have her?

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: I love sugar mommy aus. Also I just wrote the worst ten page essay of my life of lesbians in ancient Rome so it’s lit and I wanna die. Only two exams, a group project, and two essays left. Also I’m sorry if the time tense switches randomly? I’m really tired and for some reason my brain said to write this one in current tense so I’m doing it. Anyway I’m sorry for the lack of posts lately and I hope you all enjoy.

♡ Tip Jar♡

Solji wasn’t expecting to meet the love of her life in a coffee shop. In fact, the coffee shop isn’t even somewhere she usually visits. Typically, Solji got someone else to get her coffee for her or just made it at home with her high-end coffee machines. But today she was exhausted and her grocery order with coffee wasn’t coming until later, so she had no choice: she’d have to grab herself some coffee on the way to the office.

The place wasn’t bad, per-se, but as soon as Solji drives into the parking lot, her Tesla stands out against the other cars in the parking lot and she wonders if she’s made the right choice. Still, that caffeine addiction nags at the back of her head and she knows she has annoying meetings to look forward to later that day, so she sighs and climbs out of the car, flipping her hair over the shoulder as she locks it and heads inside.

The inside of the café is packed, busy with college students and business men and women in pressed suits with bags under their eyes, just as desperate to get their caffeine fix as she is. Because of the amount of people, the air is muggy and Solji grimaces, feeling stuffy as she pulls up her sunglasses to look around the place, nose wrinkling as she steps into line. With the amount of people in front of her, she’s sure she’s going to be late.

Except the line moves quickly. She’s surprised when, only a few moments later, she’s at the front of the line. So surprised, in fact, that she doesn’t react until a voice (too chipper for this early in the morning) cuts through her sleepy brain.

“Good morning, what can I get started for you?”

She blinks, looks up at the voice, and almost chokes on her own order. How could a barista be so attractive? “Uh, a large americano with room please.” You're wearing the drab and honestly tacky shop uniform and you look a little tired but you’re smiling all the same and Solji can’t take her eyes off of you.

“Of course! Will that be all?” For a lack of any other words, she just nods her head, and you tell her the total in that too chipper but wonderful voice of yours, and as she pulls her card out from inside her wallet, she wonders if this is what love feels like.

Later, at the office, she stares out her large office windows overlooking the city, your voice ringing in her ears. Her assistant clears her throat from behind her.

“Uh, ma’am? Your clients are here to see you.”

“Sejeong, I want the barista at that coffee shop down the street. The one with the garage door sides.”

“Um. Cool?” Sejeong sounds a little lost, and Solji sighs, turning around in her chair and drinking the last of her coffee.

“Tell them I’ll be right there.”

-

A few days later, Solji finds herself back in the coffee shop, your voice still echoing in her head. It’s later this time, so the shop isn’t anywhere near as crowded as it was the first time she was there. In fact, she can even look around and hear the music playing over the speakers this time. But she only looked around for a moment, because what she really wants to see is you standing behind the counter. You still look a bit tired as you count what she assumes is money behind the counter, and she watches you for a moment until you finish before she walks up to the counter.

“Hello, what can I get started for you?” Your voice is just as chipper as it was days before, and she finds herself smiling.

“I’ll have a large latte today.” Her eyes move down to the name tag on your shirt. “(Y/N). That’s a pretty name.”

A flush colors your cheek as you write her order on a cup and type it into the system. “Oh, thank you! Speaking of names, can I have a name for your order?”

“Solji. Heo Solji.” She thinks she sees a flicker of recognition in your eyes, but you just nod your head, smile still in place.

“Can I get anything else for you today, Solji?” She glances over at the pastries in the display cabinet. Any excuse to see you for longer worked, right?

“I think I’ll actually have one of those chocolate chip muffins.”

“Great choice, they’re really yummy!”

“If you say so, I believe you,” she says, smiling at the way your cheeks color just a bit darker at her words as you tell her the total. Soon, she’s sat at a corner table, sipping her latte and pretending not to watch you over the screen of her laptop. You laugh at something your coworker says and she feels something stir inside her, and she knows she’s screwed.

“How to ask out a barista? How should I know?” Hani looks up at her with her eyebrows furrowed. “Since when are you into baristas? I thought you were more of a ‘marry for money’ type of girl.”

“How terrible do you think I am?” Solji says, rolling her eyes as she picks up her wine glass and turns her attention away from the television to look at her friend. “Seriously, this barista is special. I want them, and I want to spoil them. I want to buy them everything they want.”

“It’s that bad, huh?” Hani takes a sip of her wine and shrugs. “Why are you asking me anyway?”

“You’re good with people, aren’t you? You’re always dating someone.”

“You calling me a hoe?”

“Absolutely not, I’m just saying that you have experience in this kind of thing,” Solji says, and Hani laughs and shakes her head.

“Had you not decided to give yourself to the company, you might have experience too.”

“I’m quite happy with my status and I regret nothing,” Solji retorts, kicking out at Hani as if they’re not both grown women. Again, Hani just laughs.

“Whatever you say, boss lady. Listen, I don’t really know much about baristas, but I can say that nobody can resist some good flirting. What have you done so far?”

“Well, I told them I liked their name and said I’d trust anything they recommended.”

“That’s all?”

“I’ve only been in there twice, Hani.”

The younger girl sighs. “Ah, Solji. You’re so cute. Still, next time you go in, I want you to lay it on hard. Get their number at least.”

“And how do I do that?”

“Just ask, honey. Say it sweet enough and people will give right in.”

“The way you say it makes it sound bad.” Solji grins at her own words and Hani glares at her, but there isn’t any malice behind it.

“Hey, just because I like to date doesn’t mean I’m a bad person!”

“I know, I’m just kidding. It’s what you deserve with all the poking you’ve been doing at me about my lack of dating experience.”

“Whatever. Just get their number, then we’ll talk.”

-

Solji doesn’t end up coming back to the cafe until a week later, but when she steps through the doors, she finds that she missed seeing your face. Once again, it’s not very busy, and when you look up from behind the counter, you smile.

“Hello, welcome back! Solji, right?” Your voice is just as chipper as always, and she finds herself smiling too as she walks up to you.

“That’s me. Are you always this good at remembering customers names?”

You laugh, and wow, she loves the sound. “Well, you’re a little different than our other customers.”

“How so?”

“None of our other customers wear designer brands and drive a Tesla, to say the least.”

“So you remember me just because of my money?” She’s joking, with a smile on her lips, but her words make you panic a bit, and it’s amusing to watch you search for the words, stuttering a bit.

“N-no! I mean, that’s the first thing I noticed about you but that’s not all I remember you for,” you say, and she cocks an eyebrow, making you clear your throat. “Um, you’re unique. You have a nice smile.”

“Well, thank you, (Y/N).”

“You remembered my name?” You look shocked for a second, before you remember your name tag. “Oh, it’s right here.”

“No, I remembered it. I make it a habit to remember the names of people I like.” As she says it, your cheeks flush pink again, and she revels in it.

“O-oh, thank you. Um, what can I get you today?”

She hums slightly, looking down at the special drink list on the counter. “Why don’t you recommend me something today?”

“How about a London Fog? You seem like the type of person who would like it.”

“What is it?”

“It’s Earl Grey tea with steamed milk and a little bit of vanilla. It’s really good.”

She smiles and digs into her purse to take out her wallet. “If you recommend it for me, then I’ll trust you.” A smile blooms on your face, and it does things to her heart.

“Will that be all?”

“I’d like one more thing, actually. Can I get your phone number?” She’s a little nervous as she says the words (she’s not used to feeling nervous, so it feels weird) but your face blushes a deep red and you make a little squeak noise before clearing your throat and nodding your head. How could you be so cute?

“Uh, oh, sure? I’m-I’m sorry, you caught me off guard there,” you say, laughing shyly and rubbing at the back of your neck.

“Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No! No, um, I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” You bite your lip, and her eyes linger there a little bit too long before darting back up to meet yours. “W-will that be all?”

“Yes.”

The cup you hand her has a number written on the side, and your hand shakes a bit as you give it to her, but there’s a smile on your face and she winks at you, wishing you a good day as she exits, feeling happy. Even the wolf-whistle she hears your coworker give you as she leaves can’t dim her spirits.

-Hello (Y/N), this is Solji. Thanks for giving me your number!

-Hello! Woah, I can’t believe this is happening!

-Why? I said I wanted your number, right?

-Sure, but aren’t you, like, super busy with your business?

So you knew. She smiles as she types an answer back at her desk.

-Not too busy to talk to you. I like talking to you. I was thinking about going to the shopping district tomorrow, are you down?

-Oh wow- But yes! I’d love to come!

-

It turns out you’re just as cute outside of work in normal clothes, and Solji is sure that this is what falling in love feels like. It’s not necessarily a date, neither of you called it that, but Solji can’t help but feel happy about spending time with you. You insist that she doesn’t have to buy you anything, but she makes sure to treat you to food and a drink, and before she even knows it, it’s time to go.

“I had a good time,” you tell her, eyes sparkling under the streetlights, and Solji is really glad she invited you out.

“I’m glad. Will you let me drive you home?”

As she drives, she learns that you’re a college student and that you’re using the money you make from the cafe to help pay for school.

“Honestly, it’s not enough, but it’s better than nothing,” you say with a slight laugh, and Solji wonders if the stress from student loans and bills is the reason you have dark circles under your eyes.

“Do you like your job?” She asks, and you shrug.

“It’s better than retail, I can tell you that right now. It also pays better than other places I’ve been, and my manager always works with my school schedule, so I can’t complain. Sometimes they even let me do my homework there if it’s slow.”

“Would you quit if you could?”

“I’m not sure.... I would definitely cut down on the hours, that’s for sure.”

“I could help you with that,” she says, like it’s nothing, and your eyes widen as you turn to look at her.

“You don’t have to! I didn’t mean to bring up money like I wanted it or anything!”

With a laugh, she waves away your worries and gives you a smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not offering because you brought up the subject. I seriously wouldn’t mind helping you with your tuition and everything. If you wanted, I could even pay your bills. Trust me, it would be no problem.”

Your mouth drops open a little bit. “A-am I dreaming?”

“Nope! I’m very real and alive.”

“I-I have to think about it,” you say, and and she nods.

“That’s okay. Just let me know your answer, okay?”

She pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex and, as you reach for the door, you swallow and look back at her. “I really did have fun today. I-I’d like to see you again, if that’s okay.”

“Of course that’s okay. I was about to tell you the same thing.”

A smile spreads across your face and you open the door. “Thank you for the date, Solji. Have a good night.” A date. It was totally a date. That fact makes a silly smile bloom across her face as she wishes you a good night in return. And as she watches you walk back into the complex, she presses a hand to her chest and lets out a little (uncharacteristic but necessary) squeal. She really, really likes you.

-

The dates continue, and Solji gets to kiss those smiling lips of yours that drove her so crazy before. It’s right after you get off of work, so you taste of coffee and muffins, and she loves it. That night, the two of you sit on her couch in front of the TV, snacking on the takeout she ordered, and you turn to look at her.

“Hey, Solji? Are we dating?”

“I certainly hope so. Otherwise the kissing we did earlier is going to be awkward,” she says, and you let out a little giggle, a flush covering your cheeks.

“Okay, I’m just making sure.” You bite your lip, like you’re searching for the words to say, so Solji stays quiet. “About your offer.”

“Yes?”

“Um, if it’s okay. I would really appreciate the help,” you say, and immediately cover your face. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m saying this.”

With a laugh, Solji reaches over to pull your hands away so that she can hold them in her own. “Hey, I’m the one who offered, wasn’t I? I’m happy you said yes. I want to take care of you, (Y/N).” Your cheeks are colored, but you’re smiling.

“I totally just got myself a sugar mommy, didn’t I?”

“You totally did. Isn’t that a good thing?”

“I never thought I’d say this, but since it’s you, yes.” You let out another shy laugh. “I really like you, Solji.” You look beautiful sitting there on her couch, still in your uniform pants but your hair mussed from the kissing earlier and your uniform shirt traded for one of her comfortable t-shirts. You’re irresistible, and Solji pulls you closer to place her lips on yours again, takeout forgotten on the coffee table.

“Well, that’s good, because I really like you too.” The two of you kiss softly for a moment until she pulls away slightly, looking into your eyes. “Spend the night with me.” That smile she loves so much is back, and you lean in first this time to capture her lips again. She’s totally not going to work tomorrow.

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

[mittensmorgul]

Going back through some of my liveblogging posts from 14.01, and rewatching it a couple times today, there’s a few things I wanted to at least point out in a more coherent fashion than my garbled liveblogging (and a couple of things I didn’t even notice the first time around), I’ve now watched it four times through all told, I think. So let’s call these my rewatch notes:

1. Jamil shuts off his phone’s alarm, and it’s replaced by beach sounds-- seagulls and the ocean rolling against the shore. More fake beach vacation promises. Do I need to make BeachBaiting a tag like grenadebaiting was back in s12?

2. Michael looking down at Jamil on the floor and telling him what he wants is “A Better World,” much like Mick Davies in 12.09:

Mick: Let me paint you a picture of a world without monsters or demons or any of those little buggers that go bump in the night. Of a world where no one has to die because of the supernatural. Of a new world, a better world.

This is so interesting first off because Mick is short for Michael, but the “better world” each of them foresaw and worked for is so vastly different. Mick’s involved the eradication of all monsters for their “impurity,” while Michael’s involves the eradication of humans BY monsters, because their desire to simply eat is “pure.” Their ultimate goals might be opposites, but their methods and even rhetoric are all from the same sort of playbook.

3. Sam’s blue plaid and orange jacket has shades of the two conflicting colors of the new title card... the orange blown offscreen and replaced with the shiny blue grace light. This is neither here nor there, just an interesting observation about a color scheme that’s clearly thematically relevant. Plus any excuse to make conversation about the orange jacket relevant, just to annoy Lizbob. :P

4. Bobby quoting Rocky, and Jack thinking it’s Gandhi. :P (yes, I watched the rest of that scene with the rocky music playing in my head)

5. Cas hadn’t even been at Motown Meats long enough to order a glass of water for himself when Kip walked in. And Kip expressed surprise and interest in the fact he’d lost a Winchester (along with innuendo and a taunt about Dean specifically). But by his later statements about having been asked what he wants recently, it’s clear that he’d had a little chat with Dinkle. But... did Kip realize he was standing face to face with Dean Winchester? Or was he only aware he was talking to Michael, not recognizing the vessel? Because I think if he HAD recognized that Michael was wearing Dean, his taunts to Castiel would’ve been very different, you know? Not about how irresponsible it was to lose the Winchester he was attached at the everything to, but about his favorite Winchester running around with another angel... If Kip had known that, I think he wouldn’t have passed up the opportunity to deliver that much deeper dig at Cas. So since we’ll never actually know now that he’s dead, that’s what I’m assuming. :P

6. The way Castiel was beaten to the ground by that group of demons is visually reminiscent to the way the character only known as “Scarf Angel” was beaten by Metatron’s human devotees in 9.23, when he was playing the role of “Marv the Healer.” This is also a nice callback to the differences between Marv and Sister Jo-- yes they’re both angels attempting to secure their own means by using their angel powers to cultivate a human following, but heck compared to Marv’s goals (fomenting human suffering and violence in his defense), at least Sister Jo is just trying to make herself comfortable on Earth, you know? It’s a kinder, gentler, less megalomaniacal approach. But still, Scarf Angel was beaten down the same way Cas was-- BY HUMANS NO LESS, not even demons, so there’s another dollar in the “not OOC” jar for that scene. At least no one rolled an angel blade into the mix this time around, because Scarf Angel got himself dead by those humans in 9.23, just for trying to speak the truth about Metatron.

7. There’s some creepy similarities between Michael’s little speech to Sister Jo-- even his affect and the softness and cadence of his words-- that’s reminiscent of Amara’s talks with Dean back in s11, with the whole “give up your smallness, your humanity,” etc. What they’re asking isn’t even really all that similar, but the sinister surety has the same shades to it.

8. Nick. Re-introduced here with Lucifer’s temptation of him to say yes way back in 5.01. The flashbacks we’re shown are of Lucifer using his murdered wife, and horrifying memories of his murdered child in its crib, dripping blood. Nick was angry at God for letting that happen to his family, and Lucifer promised him justice and peace. (so much for that!). His memories flash to the blood-filled crib, and he says yes. Because of his own murdered child and his need for justice over that. Can you even IMAGINE what it must’ve been like for Nick if he’s been even a little bit aware of what’s happened since Lucifer was forced back into his vessel? All of Lucifer’s manipulative games with Jack-- his own son-- when Nick essentially gave up EVERYTHING and agreed to be Lucifer’s vessel for the promise of justice for his own lost child? How... horrific for Nick. And then knowing what Lucifer did to Jack, how he nearly killed Jack, taking Jack’s grace for his own needs and now seeing how hurt Jack is over all of this and yet... there is no justice anywhere, and no peace for either of them. Even with Lucifer dead. It’s just... owie. With Nick here now, I hope at least some of this gets addressed, in addition to Sam’s trauma with Lucifer... Lucifer spread an awful lot of trauma around, and it would be nice to get at least a little bit of attention on that fact.

9. Mary’s speech to Sam in the car about the fact she has to keep thinking positively FOR DEAN’S SAKE, instead of giving in to despair or coming at this from a position of negativity, sums up everything she’s had to come to terms with since she was brought back to life in 11.23. And if you can hear that and see that and not understand that she’s basically stepped into Dean’s shoes here, and think Mary is a “bad character” still, I guess I have no hope of ever convincing you otherwise. *throws up hands* *regrets eating hands*

10. Bobby’s little pep talk to Jack in the car on the way to Detroit, acknowledging how many times Jack saved him in the other world and reassuring Jack that he has his back now (Maggie too, since they show her face during this conversation), is everything. This might not be the same Bobby who taught Sam and Dean about capital F Family that don’t end in blood, but hell if he isn’t close enough. Family now transcends alternate universes.

11. As Sam walks into Motown Meats, he tells his four sheeps “You know what to do.”  Much has already been written about the Beyonce line, so I’m gonna leave it for now, but after that grandiose lil speech, Sam completely ignores Kip, even walks around him, to talk to Cas. :’) I just love how entirely dismissive Sam is of Kip, not even shaking his hand, being utterly informal with his, “Cool. Kip.” retort to Kip’s continued affectations and flattery and all of that.

12. The demons found Maggie and Jack outside, who didn’t even put up a fight. Were they even armed? Or were they supposed to just be “bait” to let Kip think that this was Sam’s best backup, to play down Sam’s skills and assets? Especially since Bobby and Mary weren’t captured. I think they were supposed to sweep for lookouts or guards outside, to create a diversion so Mary and Bobby could have a clear path to the door with their arsenal, without alerting all the demons inside. Clever. :)

13. Kip says the line, “I’m a demon, that’s how we do.” And honestly in that moment I could only think of Dean in 9.13 during their job interview at the Canyon Valley Spa:

MARITZA: And you boys are both certified personal trainers? DEAN: Yeah. Yeah, personal training brothers. Kind of like Hans and Franz, but, uh, less German. LARRY: And you're certified in... DEAN: Makin' people sweat! Yeah. Kickin' ass and takin' names! [He slams his hand on the table] That's how we do! SAM: Uh...Uh, to clarify, uh, what my brother's trying to say is, we both have a passion for fitness and helping people.

And I can only imagine Sam was groaning on the inside at the memory of that incident. :P

14. Sam’s still not having any of Kip’s affected hospitality, and refuses to sit. Like, seriously, everything about what’s happening here is a strategic bluff. This is all a power play, the likes of which typically fell to Dean in the past. I mean, think of 13.15, and Dean’s posturing with the Mafia boss guy, while Sam squirmed uncomfortably thinking they were about to be murdered at any second for their insolence. But here Sam is, playing that game with Dean’s usual cavalier attitude and brilliant poker face. I mean, he’s not as quippy as Dean, but who is, right? This is Sam Samming his way through Dean’s usual shtick though, and I appreciate that.

15. Idiot Kip, basically handed over all the power in that room to Sam the moment he announced that he might not be afraid of Sam, but all his minion demons were... I mean... There you go...

16. Jack runs in during the fight, unarmed, to have Bobby’s back when a demon had him down. :’) Even better, Bobby’s muttered reply to Jack’s two-fisted defense? “Aw, balls.” :’) 

17. Through all of this, all of his loved ones who’d come to rescue him, Cas is chained to a chair, unable to even MOVE, or DUCK OUT OF THE WAY, or offer any support at all because of the cuffs binding him to the chair. He has to watch all of this go down, helpless to do anything to defend his loved ones as they’re beaten and hurt because of him. OW. Bonus: this is metaphorically the position that DEAN is in as well. He’s chained in place, too, wherever Michael drags him while his family searches for him and tries to free him. Honestly I wonder if Dean even hopes his family never finds him, dreading what Michael might do to them with his own hands, you know? YIKES. Okay enough of that kind of thinking. I’ll save that for next week... >.> But back to Cas, at least at the end, the worst any of his family suffered was a punch in the face.

18. ONE WORD FROM SAM IS ENOUGH to stop all the fighting once he’s killed Kip. Because Kip had been right. All those other demons are afraid of Sam. They’re probably even more afraid now that their chosen leader is dead at Sam’s hand.

19. I already wrote something up about Sam’s declaration here, as well as his hubris, which I’m looking forward to seeing the consequences of going forward.

20. Sitting in the same spots where Dean and Cas once had a heartbreaking conversation back in 9.10, about doing the wrong things for the right reasons, and being willing to do anything to save Sam from Gadreel, Sam and Cas have a conversation about doing the wrong things for the right reasons, and doing anything to save Dean from Michael.

21. Sam reassuring Jack about it being okay that he doesn’t have his powers now, that he’s not helpless nor useless, because he has Cas, and all the rest of his family. Cas suggests his grace “SHOULD regenerate in time,” but that’s not the same as “definitely will regenerate.” But Jack just feels like he can’t succeed at anything... hmmm... this entire setup feels familiar...

22. oh, right! This whole, you have me, you have your family, and together we’re going to find Dean and beat Michael, and we’re gonna do it together, because that’s what we do. This is... this is exactly what Dean told a disconsolate and desperate Cas in 12.19. And Cas may never have heard Dean give a very similar speech to Sam at the end of 11.15, because that one had included finding Cas himself when he was possessed by Lucifer, but:

Dean: And that's how we're gonna win. And we're gonna win. We're gonna save Cas, we're gonna ice the Devil, and we're gonna shank the Darkness. And anyone that gets in our way. Well, God help 'em.

23. Sister Jo’s call. Which I wasn’t gonna mention except I had the audacity to quote that line from 11.15, and it pinged my memory of Jo’s first little conversation at the beginning of this episode. At the church, she’s seeing off the people she’d healed that night, and a man stops to thank her for saving his life. His wife thanks her, and says, “God bless you.” Jo replies, “He does, every day.” So when I typed “Well, God help ‘em.” As I let the end of the episode play out, and it’s Jo who calls to tell Sam about Dinkle, well, I can’t help but think that might be a bit of a divine intervention there.

[marvel-ous-fan]

A Strange Encounter (Doctor Strange x Reader) Chapter 2

Summary: You are just an average girl in the Big Apple but one day everything changes when you meet a very interesting and rather… strange man at a bar.

A/N: I just want to thank you in advanced for reading this, it is very appreciated, let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters :)

chapter 1 

read on AO3

warnings: excessive fluff(??)

word count: 1836

Previously in A Strange Encounter - Chapter 1

"Um excuse me," you started to follow your terrible friend as she walked towards the door, "how am I supposed to get home?!? You drove me here remember?!?!?" you were starting to get very annoyed with Bianca as she walked away.

She looked at Stephen and then back to you, "You'll find a way." and with that she was out the door.

You looked back over at Stephen who was chuckling as he took a swig of his beer. "That's quite a friend you got there."

You sat back down next to him signaling the bartender to get another drink, "She really is something..." you said as you sat down and began your night.

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

“Wait wait wait, hold up a second, you’re really telling me you took a bullet out of a man's brain, who somehow wasn’t even dead? I don’t believe any of this.” you exclaimed leaning back against the bar, “no, I don’t buy it.” You were surprised at yourself for actually staying engaged and interested in this medical story, and the ten that came before. You had never been this engaged in any of Bianca’s stories and you weren’t sure if it was because his stories were more high stakes or because of the fact that you found him to be much more attractive than Bianca.

“Pfft,” Stephen stammered over his words, “I am wounded in your lack of faith in me, I’ll have you know that story is completely true, in fact I have the bullet to prove it if you want to see.” and with that he started digging through his coat pocket.

“Ew ew ew no, please no,” you said in a panicked laugh as you fumble to stop his hands, “I don’t want to see something that used to be in a mans head.”

He laughed at you and took his hands out of his pocket, “good because I was totally bluffing.” he said as he laughed at you and the flustered face you still had.

“Hey!” you yelled at him as you playfully punched him in the arm, “if you lied to me about that how am I supposed to trust that all those stories were true.” you asked him, almost challenging him.

He grabbed his arm jokingly in pain acting as if you really had the power in that tiny punch to hurt him. “Trust me, I never lie sweetheart,” he took a sip of his drink, “except maybe this one time.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Okay I'm just gonna pretend you didn’t just call me sweetheart…” you said trailing off your sentence as you looked away laughing nervously.

“Well pardon me but what am I supposed to call you, we’ve been sitting here for over an hour and you still haven’t told me your name.” you chuckled at this remark, realising you never formally introduce yourself to him, but instead of giving up that valuable information you decided to keep the banter going.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so arrogant and didn’t spend the past two hours talking about yourself you would have gotten to know me.” you said laughing at the hurt look on his face.

“Alrighty then, enough about me let’s get to know…” he motioned his hand at you, “now this is the part where you say your name.”

You chuckled at him and obliged. “It’s (Y/N).”

“Ah, (Y/N), just (Y/N)? Like… Adele? Or Aristotle?” he chuckled at his poor attempt to make you laugh.

“Does that joke ever get laughs?” you giggled as you made fun of him.

“You know people at the hospital find me very funny.” he stated trying to save his ego.

“Well maybe it’s because you’re in a position of power and not actually funny.” you jabbed back at him as you watched him grab his chest as if you had wounded him.

“I am genuinely hurt by that comment, but I can forgive you if you give me your last name.”

“And what are you going to do with that vital information hmm? Stalk me online?” you asked him as you raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe I will, who’s to say.”

“(Y/L/N), my full name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and my middle is (Y/M/N) just in case you were wondering about that one too.” you laughed as he pulled out his phone and typed your name into the search bar. 

“Oh I’m so sorry to hear that you passed away, should I send flowers?” you laughed as you looked over at his screen to see the obituary of the old woman with the same name as you.

“Very funny, but you know if you wanted to learn about me, you could just ask me instead of stalking my… what is that my linkedIn page? Wow that is the strangest form of stalking if i’ve ever see one.”

“Well strange is my namesake.” he laughed at his joke once more as he closed the tab and clicked on the link to your instagram. “Ah so I see you used to live in California, and you are… ah of course, an aspiring actress, what a classic story. Small town girl moving to the Big Apple to make her dreams come true, so I’m guessing since you’re an ‘actress’... you work as a waitress?”

You looked at him in shock, not sure if you were more offended by the stereotype he just categorized you into or the fact that he put the word actress in air quotes. “Okay first of all I'm no ‘small town girl’” you stated with air quotes, intending to mock him, “I'm from LA not some little farm town in Central California, also yes I do in fact work at a diner, but it’s not because I can’t make it as an actress, in fact I just got a role in the ensemble of (your favorite B-way show).”

“Ah well maybe if you had posted more on your social media I would have learned this about you.” he smirked at you and you couldn’t help but melt at that look.

“Or maybe you could have just… asked me?” you laughed as you pulled out your phone.

“Oh don’t bother looking me up, you won’t find anything but my wikipedia page, not much of a social media kind of guy.” he pointed out as you started to unlock your phone.

“Oh I'm not, actually I’m calling an uber, since it is almost 1.”

Stephen reached for your hand, putting your phone down on the bar. “No no, I’m not letting you pay for a ride home after your friend so graciously ditched you like that, let me drive you.” there was a stern and protective tone to his voice that you hadn’t heard all night.

“Are you sure about that? You… We’ve been drinking and I don’t want to…” stephen quickly cut you off.

“Oh don’t be silly, I’ve had 2 drinks in the last” he looked down at his watch, “almost 3 hours now, I could to easily perform a craniectomy right now, driving won’t be a problem.”

“Okay I’m not so sure about the whole crani-whatever that thing is under the influence thing, but I’ll trust you with the driving portion.” and with that, the two of you closed your tabs and walked out the door.

Stephen had offered to pay for your drinks for you but you refused, seeing that your roommate had so graciously left you to pay for her drinks as well and not wanting him to have to cover that, you were going to have to have a word with her when you got home.

Stephen walked across the street towards what you were guessing was the hospital and you closely followed behind, assuming his car must be in the parking lot there. As he approached the car you stopped dead in your tracks.

“No way, there is NO WAY this is your car!” you looked excitedly at the sleek black Lamborghini in front of you.

“Excuse me I’m a world famous neurosurgeon, what do you think I’m gonna drive, a Prius?” The two of you laughed at the comment as he unlocked the car and opened your door for you. You had to admit, he was quite the gentleman when he wasn’t being so arrogant and snarky.

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“Woah there slow down there speed racer, I know there’s not that many people on the road but I would like to make it home in one piece tonight.” You said to Stephen in a teasing tone but with real concern behind the statement. You tried to hide the uncomfortable state you were in as he cruised down the open and empty roads.

“Oh come on don’t be a baby, I'm not even going that fast, I’m only going 30 miles over the speed limit, that’s nothing. We can go faster if you wa-”

“NO!” you screamed. He laughed at you as he shook his head.

“Alright alright, I’ll slow down. You’re a buzzkill you know that?” he quickly looked over at you with a wink before looking back at the road.

“Well excuse me if I don’t want to end up BACK at the hospital tonight.” you shot back at him. He gave you a look almost as if he were telling you ‘you win’ and the two of you continued the drive home in silence.

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You were relieved when he finally pulled over in front of your apartment, you couldn’t stand another second in that car of death, sure it was nice but you had no intent of dying in it. You were starting to gather your things when Stephen stopped you.

“Now hold on a moment, you’re not leaving right this second are you?” he had a very confused and sad tone as he asked you this.

“Well this is my apartment, and the next logical step would be for me to get out of the car and go in.” You replied with a sarcastic tone.

He looked out the window, then down at his hands, and then finally back to you, almost as if he were trying to choose his next words very wisely. “I mean I do only live a couple blocks away from here, the night doesn’t have to end now.”

You were taken aback by the forwardness of his statement but also how unsure he sounded as he spoke. “No offence doctor but I think the logical time to ask me this would have been before we left the bar not after you have arrived in front of my apartment.” you said with a teasing tone, holding back your nervous laughter. “And besides I’m not that kind of girl, at least not usually.” and with a wink you opened the door.

“Right, yes of course my apologies. Have a nice night (Y/N).” and with that you were out of his car, walking to the front door. You looked back at him as he gave you a nod and drove off.

You recapped the night in your head as you walked up the stairs to the 3rd floor, unable to hold back the biggest smile as you thought about the handsome doctor. As you opened the door to your studio apartment, you saw Bianca sitting on the couch waiting for you with a single light on.

“Excuse me but I thought you had to leave because of your early morning?” you shot at her with the most sarcastic tone.

She ignored the rudeness in your voice and walked toward you, grabbing your shoulders she had the happiest look on her face as she sat you down on the couch. “Tell. Me. Everything.”

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A/N: thank you again for reading!! much love for you all!

Chapter 3

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