#did a great service for so many angsty teens out there

[local-maenad]

Firm believer that Lucifer did create the word “ugh”

[sideprince]

I’d love to hear your answer to #2, #16, and #18 of the Snape asks! :)

2. How old were you when you decided you loved this unwashed man? What’s the story, child?

I was in high school and Going Through It. I was really ready to get out of my parents' house and be an adult, and I was dealing with a lot of tough things and basically ready for a new escapist hyperfixation (though I probably wouldn't have put it like that at the time). I found him intriguingly complex and the main reason I kept reading the books was to find out more about him - what his story was, why he was doing what he was doing, etc. I didn't doubt his motivations were ultimately in service of defeating Voldemort (because I know how to read and can spot basic literary elements like foreshadowing and characters who are foils), but it was clear there was a lot to this guy. I think there must also have been a kind of loneliness and ambitious determination in how he was written that I identified with. He was absorbing enough to be a good distraction from my life and I really needed it at the time. Still do sometimes.

16. What do you headcanon about his relationship with his parents?

I don't think his relationship with his dad was great (thank you, thank you, you can put my Understatement of the Year Award in the mail). When Snape was a very small child, he probably wanted his dad's approval and didn't understand what he kept doing wrong when his dad lashed out and grew increasingly abusive. Back then the abuse was probably more comprised of a lack of attention, shouting, and maybe a smack or two. As he got older I imagine he started feeling that need for attention and approval less and less, or rather, that it got more murky under layers of resentment and fear and pain and anger. The taller he got (ie. less physically vulnerable) and the more distance he got what with being gone most of the year, and the more his sarcastic, snarky personality came out, (and the more confident he got with his magical skills that his dad couldn't touch or take away from him), the more he must have talked back to his dad and challenged him. Rowling has said something about his dad having whipped him with a belt, and I can imagine that being a way for his dad to assert himself against a son who had skills he himself never would, and who hated him. We see this attitude in the Dursleys as well, thinking they could abuse the magic out of Harry. So yeah, I can see Snape's dad going at him with a belt, shouting about "where's your precious magic now, boy?" I can also see Snape's magic - like most underage wizards' - getting away from him in a moment like that and throwing his dad off or undermining him in some way that made it impossible for him to continue in that moment and probably unwilling to try again.

He probably had a better relationship with his mom, or at least a more complex one. They had magic in common, and must have been somewhat close at some point because I don't know who else would have told him so many details about Hogwarts when he was a kid. The amount he knew about the school - and the magical world in general - indicates that she talked about it with him at length and probably on a number of occasions. As he got older and his relationship with his dad got worse, his mom was probably in the middle, not wanting to compromise her relationship with either of them. If Snape was like any other angsty teen, then at that age he probably would have lashed out at her and resented her for letting his dad treat both of them the way he did. There was probably rough period for them where his teenage need to push his parents away coincided with the natural distance that would grow between a parent and a child who spent 10 months of the year away at boarding school. When he got older, though, he probably would have had more sympathy and started to understand that she knew his dad as a very different person than he did and had her own relationship with him. It's also possible that as his intellect continued to blossom despite everything else he had to deal with at school, it changed his relationship with his mom. The dynamic was no longer that she was a source of knowledge for him, but that he knew and understood more than she ever had and maybe he looked down on her, or at least pitied her, for what he might have seen as her limitations.

18. What’s an aspect of his character you wish more people would explore?

He isn't just intelligent, he's an incredibly good judge of character. If you set aside his skewed impression of Harry, he's someone who understands profoundly well what makes people tick and how they think. He's a great spy because he understands how Voldemort thinks and operates, as well as all the Death Eaters around him. It makes sense - someone who's a great occlumens would, through that kind of insight, learn how to put himself in someone else's shoes without having to read their thoughts. When he talks to Harry about what legilimency is, that the mind is not a book to be read at leisure, he reveals a complex and nuanced understanding of the way you have to be able to interpret and understand someone's thoughts. What he's really saying is that it isn't enough to see what someone is thinking, you have to be able to understand its context and what that thought means to that person if you have a good sense of them. This requires incredible intelligence, empathy, and judgment of character.

I think it's also why he speaks so tersely and reveals so little about himself, except for the occasional feral moment when he's triggered and unable to maintain that control. It's not just because he doesn't want to compromise himself by speaking too much, or that he knows the more verbose he is the more he gives away about himself. He thinks more than he speaks and so he speaks very little because he's busy listening to others and to his own brain whirring away at a thousand miles a minute.

(This is also why I get a bit tired of the take that Snape is a Feral Man and that Alan Rickman's portrayal has nothing to do with Book!Snape. It's an integral part of his character that he observes much more than he speaks, and most of the time he's described in the books as someone whose behavior is controlled. His expression is consistently described as "unreadable" "unfathomable" etc. The angrier he gets, the more quiet his voice gets - as you know, given your absolutely brilliant amazing Snape Speaks post!

He's feral only when he's triggered, and we only see him act that way in rare and vulnerable moments, and those moments are compelling exactly because this isn't his usual self, but rather his primal, unchecked self. He's portrayed as a person who put a lot of effort into controlling and overcoming that primal self and would fall apart if it was his constant state of being. There's an inseparable link between the guilt that drives him and his need to control his emotions. The whole Feral Man take ignores exactly the aspect of his character that I love so much, that he observes more than he acts, and is a great judge of character. And I think there's a lot to interpret in how his eyes are described more often than any other character's, except maybe Harry -- again, because he uses his eyes more than his body or his voice.)

[1up-girl]

20 Questions

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 10 works.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 131,856

3. What fandoms do you write for? Only Zelda right now, but I have done stuff for Evangelion and Teen Titans in the past! Also looking to add a Shingeki no Kyojin piece in there soon.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Reverdie (413), Fragmentation (290), After the Rain (200), Tacet (188) and Finding and Keeping (175)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Always! I'm very greatful for folks taking the time to read and comment on my stuff. It really means a lot to me, so I like to show my gratitude in the comments.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Ooof uhhhh like none? I think I did some themed one-shots that were downers but like...I really can't bring myself to end on angsty notes.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? They all end happy, but I think Love Stayed With Me has to be the happiest by default because [TOTK ending spoilers here]

8. Do you get hate on fics? Thankfully, no! It would be okay if I did, though. Like whatever, a hater isn't paying for my service so I wouldn't really care if they were wasting their energy in my comments section.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes! It depends on the situation, really. I'm a big fan of smut that is sort of exploratory and almost innocent, where two characters are exploring these feelings with one another and discovering that bliss for the first time. But on the other hand...I am like, beyond ready to write Link getting pegged LMFAO. I'm not too picky about smut.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? No... I don't think I have. I think I planned one when I was like 13 but I can't remember the fandoms or anything.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Have had stuff reposted without my permission on other sites, but my name was still attached to it. So like...not entirely stolen haha. No one reposted under a different author's name.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but I WOULD LOVE THIS

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yesssss! Currently worked on A Song of Storms with @deiliamedlini!

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? I really think Zelink takes the cake for me. I've never simped so hard for a ship. I love how they are cosmically entwined, soulmates which can come in really lovely, heartfelt forms, or angsty, miserable forms. They aren't limited by one iteration. gOD.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? As much as I wish I could, I don't think a longfic is in the cards for me. I'm frankly not creative enough to keep the momentum up ;_;. Maybe if the right inspo hit. But at this point I write shorter things and I don't expect to not finish them at some point, even if they take a while to crank out.

16. What are your writing strengths? I like to think that I have strong ideas on characterizations, and that the prose carries the ideas that I'm trying to convey. (Particularly about Zelink.) I love the poetic imagery for them and enjoy metaphoers and loooove religious imagery for them as well.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Absolutely fucking plot and also finding the balance between like, wanting langauge to be flowery and not overdoing it. I am always tearing my hair out over it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? Oh I'm very down lol

19. First fandom you wrote for? I think would have been Teen Titans when I was like 12.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written? UGHHHHH I don't know, maybe Reverdie because it was so music inspired? And I loooooove writing pining Link and the sexual tension between them. Part of me actually thinks about rewriting that and making it longer, dragging it out even more than just 4 chapters, but I think that's me being sadistic haha. Love Stayed With Me was also so personal to me because it was crafted sort of in real time with playing TOTK. And of course has all my own personal baggage tied into it.

THIS WAS FUN THANKS FOR TAGGING ME @zellink! I'll tag @deiliamedlini @wanderingnightingale @itcantbe @softlessly and anyone else who wants to do it!

[kumqu4t]

birthday with the company headcanons!

☆ a birthday gift to two wonderful people, @trxblemaker and @rowandor whose birthdays are on the 13th and 14th respectively!

☆ (platonic!company/reader)

☆ takes place after BOTFA, everybody lived!!

☆ kind of angsty at the beginning but dON’T WORRY THERE IS MUCH COMFORT AND FLUFF TO MAKE UP FOR IT!!!!

☆ target audience- teen reader

☆ (y/bday)= your birthday

☆ (y/n/a)= your new age

you were slowly but surely getting settled into erebor, your new home

shortly after the battle, you found yourself adopted by EVERY MEMBER OF THE COMPANY

you now wore braids with handmade beads in your hair, one for each family

you lived in erebor, obviously

and all the other families, lived in rooms in the same hallway

you spent most of your time exploring

and the company weren’t the only ones you spent time with

dís had taken a liking to you quite fast, proving to be a much appreciated maternal figure in your life

tauriel was like a sister to you. someone you could prank kíli with, but also go to for advice and a listening ear

so basically you never had to worry about being lonely

things had been pretty quiet and uneventful for awhile

until, on one ordinary day, you made the mistake of bringing up your birthday

you were walking aimlessly around erebor, simply exploring and enjoying the view

when kíli bounded up to you, a smile lighting up his face

“company supper coming up! you will be in attendance, right (y/n)?”

“it’ll be great fun,” he continued. “we’re planning to head to the library after and tell stories while enjoying a few drinks.”

“no drinks for you though, little sister,” he added as an afterthought, ruffling your hair playfully

kíli now looked at you expectantly, waiting for your response

“oh that sounds great,” you answered after a pause. “what day is it planned for?”

“(y/bday) at 6:00!” kíli answered

you responded without thinking

“oh that’s my birthday! i’ll be turning (y/n/a). huh! with the quest and the battle and everything it must have slipped my mind! anyways, of course i’ll be coming, i can’t wait!”

you looked at kíli to see him frozen in place, a pained expression on his face

“kíli?”

you waved a hand in front of his face “earth to kíli?”

he jerked to life, flashing you a quick smile that looked more like a grimace

“terribly sorry (y/n), but i must be off! i think i heard uncle calling!”

you stared after him for a few more minutes, feeling confused

you definitely did not hear thorin calling

well that was weird

brushing it off, attributing it to kíli just being kíli, you went about the rest of your day as usual

oddly, you didn’t see much of the company that day, or in the rest of the days following

you didn’t see bilbo, dís, or tauriel either

and you usually spent time with at least one member a day

but now they were nowhere in sight

and if you did see them, they would make an excuse and quickly dash away

so by the end of the week you were feeling a little down

you didn’t know what you had done wrong

and you missed spending time with your family

you wondered if maybe dwarves didn’t celebrate birthdays? but even so, they had never avoided you like this before

some unfortunate thoughts came to you

‘maybe now that the quest is over and i can’t be of service in any way, they don’t care about me anymore? maybe i don’t fit in here in erebor?’

your sadness soon mingled with anger, and your anxiety remained

creating an uncomfortable knot in your stomach and a lump in your throat

what did you do to deserve this? they could at least tell you why

you had saved their sorry butts so many times

and when you saw them again, you planned to kick their sorry butts all the way to next tuesday for avoiding you

the day of the company supper (and your birthday) finally came

and despite your anger and confusion, you still decided to go

for multiple reasons

mostly because you wanted to confront them and ask why you had been ignored all week

and you also heard that bombur was making his famous apple tart with raspberry jam

evening came sooner than you realized

you saw that the clock read 5:45 and readied yourself as fast as possible

you quickly dressed yourself in your favorite outfit, pulled a cardigan over it, and ran a brush through your hair

you rushed down the long halls of erebor, keeping your pace quick

you finally turned the corner and came face to face with what had been dubbed as the “company room,” for all the time they spent in it

you felt your hand shake slightly as you grasped the cool metal handle

slowly, you opened the door, preparing to be met with the high, stone walls and rich velvet furniture

but you opened the door to find... nothing?

you squinted your eyes, trying to see into the pitch black room

“hello,” you called out. “thorin? fíli? kíli? is anyone here?”

all of a sudden, the candles and lanterns were lit, and people jumped out from behind furniture and under tables

“SURPRISE,” they yelled. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY (Y/N)!”

you didn’t say anything for a few seconds

you could only stare, dumbfounded, at the people in front of you

everyone was there. the whole company, including bilbo, dís, and tauriel

“w-what?” you tentatively asked. “what is going on?”

kíli piped up, a large smile on his face

“it’s your birthday party!! don’t you like it? we’ve spent all week planning it!”

you took quite a few seconds to look around the room

it was decorated with streamers made of beautiful fabric, and banners hung from the walls

a large pile of wrapped gifts lay in the corner

and in the center of the room was a huge table with a feast fit for a king

as the clocks on the wall continued to tick, you heard dís mutter “kíli if you got the date wrong i swear to mahal...”

you spoke up, “no, no. he’s right. it is my birthday. but... i don’t understand. you guys did all of this... for me?”

bilbo stepped forward, thumbing his suspenders, “why of course! it’s your birthday! we wouldn’t miss a chance to properly celebrate our girl’s birthday.”

“so you guys weren’t avoiding me all week because you think i don’t belong in erebor?” you asked

the room exploded with yells of anger, confusion, and outrage

“why in durin’s name would you think that?” thorin asked after the chaos died down, furrowing his brows in confusion.

“well you guys were avoiding me all week. i didn’t know what to think.”

dori hurried over to you, draping a blanket around your shoulders and steering you towards the couch.

“yes dear, come this way, and we will explain everything. don’t you worry, sweetling,” he soothed.

everyone gathered to find seats around you

kíli shifted uncomfortably on his feet and bit his lip. “i’m so sorry (y/n)! when i found out your birthday was coming up, i felt terrible that we didn’t know sooner, so i hurried to collect everyone and devise a plan.”

ori interjected, a worried frown on his face, “we were all so excited to plan your party, we must have forgotten to keep you distracted.”

“we meant no harm by it,” fíli added.

“aye,” said thorin. “and about that complete and utter nonsense you were spouting earlier: you belong in erebor just as much as any dwarf here. you are our family. and we wanted to celebrate you today.”

of course, you burst into tears

*cue panicked company*

“oh mahal, what did we do now?”

“i bet thorin said something wrong” “shut up dwalin”

“oh no lass, please don’t cry!”

through your sobs, you somehow found your way over to thorin, seeking cuddles

he scooped you up and sat you gently in his lap

you buried your face in his chest, clutching at his tunic with your hands, allowing his scent of smoke and pine trees to wash over you

his large hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as he mumbled assurances

bilbo held and stroked your hand gently

and you felt others reaching out with their own soothing touches

you eventually found yourself at the center of a huge group hug, not that you minded at all

group hugs did seem to be inevitable in this family

through tears, you explained that you were relieved, and so very thankful for the party

you apologized for jumping to conclusions and overreacting, but everyone insisted you had nothing to apologize for

after you eventually calmed down enough, bofur spoke up

“well i think you’ve done enough cryin’ this evenin,’ now haven’t ye’ lass? it is your birthday after all. i say we start the party!”

everyone agreed

as you all found seats at the table, you allowed yourself a moment to admire the spread

bombur had truly outdone himself this time

the table was full of food of all sorts. salted pork, mince pies, all kinds of cheeses, potatoes, biscuits, sausages, meats, and stews.

oh and don’t forget the ale- and lots of it!

you sat and ate until your stomach could handle no more

all the while listening to and telling stories, and laughing as bilbo reprimanded the dwarves’ bad manners

then came dessert

the company insisted to do by “your people’s traditions” and sing you happy birthday.

they were completely off key and didn’t know the tune at all

but it was perfect. it was more than perfect.

you dug into a few small slices of your favorite flavor of cake

fili may or may not have smashed kili’s face into his cake, leading to a wrestling match that had to be broken up by dwalin

after cake, came presents

once you saw all of the boxes, you protested vehemently, insisting you didn’t need all of this

which led into many more speeches preaching that you deserve all of this and more

so with a light blush staining your cheeks, you opened the gifts one by one

they were perfect

- forged by thorin: a sword with various gems emblazoned on the hilt (“so you can properly threaten any suitors you find yourself approached by in the coming months”)

- from bilbo: a handmade handkerchief embroidered with your initials and your favorite flowers (“well this would have come in handy earlier, now wouldn’t it?”)

- from fíli: one of his lucky knives (“see here, you can strap it on your thigh for easy access”)

- from kíli: a poorly knitted bear with one eye sewed on haphazardly (he made it himself, and he tried his best) because you had mentioned missing your stuffed animals before

- from tauriel: miruvor that she acquired from rivendell (for emergency’s- just in case)

- from dís: a quilt with the lonely mountain embroidered on it (“to keep you warm and remind you of home”)

- from balin: a collection of classic dwarven stories in a thick, leather-bound book

- from dwalin: a fluffy fur coat and a pair of gloves (“a wee lass like you will freeze in these winters without proper protection”)

- from ori: a beautiful portrait of yourself

- from nori: hair pins that also function as lock picks (“s’no harm in being careful”)

- from dori: your favorite tea (“a warm cup of tea is both the perfect way to start the day and the perfect way to end the day”)

- from bifur: a beautiful bouquet of flowers, hand picked and arranged by him

- from bofur: an intricate wooden carving of your favorite animal

- from bombur: a bountiful basket of honey cakes, carefully wrapped for future snacking

- from oin: fancy haircare and skincare supplies

- and from gloin: a necklace with a beautiful stone pendant

it was entirely too much, but, as you have come to learn, your family doesn’t do simple

especially when it comes to you

you thanked everyone many times, not knowing how to fully express your gratitude

the night, as kili had promised, followed with many stories and much laughter

and lots of ale

you tried to sneak a sip of thorin’s

AS A JOKE

a joke that he did not find very amusing

you spent the rest of the evening listening to tales of old, your head drooping to rest on tauriel’s shoulder

you recall the night getting darker, the fire slowly burning out, and the laughter becoming quieter

the gentle pressure of a coat being placed on you

and strong arms wrapped around your small frame, pulling you to a warm chest

helping you easily drift off into a peaceful sleep

you woke up in the early morning next day, before the sun had even risen

apparently everyone had become so tired and it was so late that they decided to just sleep in the “company room” for the night

no one had any sense of personal space while they slept not that you minded

you felt arms wrapped around you and draped over your stomach, hands brushing yours, feet propped up on you, and more

all were asleep, save yourself

you sat up slowly, careful not to disturb the others, and took a look around

to soak it all in

to enjoy the moment

snoring dwarves

a hobbit, curled up in a cocoon of blankets

an elf, hugging a pillow close to her chest as she slept

and you, right in the middle of it all

you gave a small smile as you eased yourself back onto the couch

this was peace

this was contentment

this was home

[florvinhara]

my detectives (part 1)

kjahfjhsj i can have a little infodumping... as a treat... anyway this was originally gonna be 1 post but then i got carried away so part 1 in the series of me ranting abt my detectives!

Kira Isabella Song

Romances N, F, or M

Age: 25 at the start of book 1, currently 26

Birthday: February 7

Star sign: Aquarius sun, Taurus moon, Scorpio rising

Height: 5’7”

Hair: Short, ash blonde, a little longer than chin length

Eyes: dark brown

Race/ethnicity: Korean-American

Other appearance details: Several beauty marks on face and body. a few subtle scars on face/legs from falling out of trees, etc. fingers are callused from band practice and left hand fingers are a little crooked from being broken.

Languages: English, Spanish, a few basic phrases in some other languages

Stats:

Charming/Intimidating

Impulsive/Cautious

Sarcastic/Genuine

Friendly/Stoic

Easygoing/Stubborn

Heart/Mind (equal)

Optimist/Pessimist

Team player/Independent

Primary skills: Science & combat

Strengths: Trustworthy, strong, courageous, calm under pressure, compassionate, thorough, clever, good intuition, self-sufficient, sure of herself

Weaknesses: Petty, caustic, distrustful, secretive, lackadaisical, insubordinate, emotionally unintelligent, can be disdainful, uncommunicative, contrary

Personal:

overall body language is casual and unbothered, lowkey her posture is kind of yikes RIP but she has a very fluid way of moving

her voice is smooth and somewhat low in pitch, very even in tone

Loud and/or jumbled sounds sometimes overwhelm her; she usually has noise cancelling headphones with her just in case

Rebellious as a teenager; she started skipping school and getting into fights, did some graffiti and one time she stole a street sign that she may or may not still have

When she wasn’t breaking rules, etc. she was taking boxing lessons, chilling in the library, going on runs, or playing bass guitar in her band

Wanted to get out of Wayhaven as soon as possible after college but was arrested after she came back because she was selling fake IDs and stole a car; absolutely did not want to be law enforcement but Rebecca and the captain essentially made her

The deal was that she would work at the station for 5 years and if she did well/stayed out of trouble she could then quit- she's 3 years into it

deep down if she wasnt a detective she would want to be a paramedic

She shares a lot of mannerisms with Rebecca and they’re way more similar than she’d like to admit

Birds FREAK her out seriously; she’ll deny that she’s afraid of them but she’ll cross the street to get away from them, also hates crowded places and deep water

Scary resting face and has a habit of just... eerily staring at people who are bothering her until they get spooked, but she's not actually that angry or grouchy, she's really just Vibing u know? she's not gonna correct anyone's impression though or they might start like... Talking to her :/

Loves any book/movie/show with a secret society or spy element and stories about a Hero and their Journey, also loves angsty philosophy books; her favorite movies are cheesy but feel-good (The Mummy, Pacific Rim, anything with big CGI monsters)

Doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth but would kill someone for strong coffee; if she’s really tired you can catch her drinking it cold straight from the pot with a straw

Emo/pop punk teen and she definitely cried when MCR broke up, she also listens to a lot of Dixie Chicks, Johnny Cash, Dottie West, Patsy Cline, etc

She’s been drawing since she was a kid- mainly works with charcoal and sometimes pastels. her sketchbooks are like her diaries and she’s never shown them to Anyone Ever

In her spare time, she still plays some guitar, draws, or reads; her library is extensive because she keeps every book she’s ever read or intends to read (it’s one of the few things she’ll drop real money on)

Very tactile person and fussy about textures, she prefers ultra soft blankets/pillows and her bed is basically a nest

Practical, efficient, frugal- she doesn’t necessarily find joy in cooking or anything but she can do it well enough, quick showers, uses cheap soap/shampoo, cuts her own hair

Her hands get super dry/chapped in the winter and it hurts very much :(

Never yells; when she gets angry she’s very cold & will Not hold back; every word is designed to hurt bc she’s purposefully poking at things she knows are sore spots

At the start of the books, she’s kind of... sleepwalking through life? like, she was in a not-great place mentally for most of her teens and didn’t really have a plan for the future but law enforcement was definitely not it? She isn’t feeling super passionate about what she’s doing and it kind of sucks to not have joy in purpose :( luckily that’s changing and is gonna be a significant part of her journey through the series!

Her apartment is cluttered but clean and she knows where everything is, if someone moved one of her things she would not be able to find it and it would bother her until she located it

She’s not stubborn exactly? Like she’ll concede an argument if it’s not super important to her and has no problem with losing or backing down in many cases; she’s pretty open minded in that respect, but if something is central to her values then she will Die before she backs down

On that note she’s overall a very logical person but when it comes down to it she'll follow her heart/first instinct

Does not care about rules or procedures At All, she'll follow them if it suits her end goal but otherwise... nope

Lowkey she… did not care about the reveal? it was a surprise but not her first priority in the moment- she kind of already thought UB was sketchy and didn’t trust them, so mainly she was pissed off that Rebecca had sent them to babysit her instead of actually help solve the murders

Speaking of Rebecca their relationship is kind of yikes. Kira isn’t exactly mad that Rebecca was gone so often, but she does think that she kind of forfeited her parenting rights and was annoyed that Rebecca was interfering with her life; first by getting her on the force and then by dropping UB on her. So now it’s Very Awkward between them because Kira doesn’t want to be like… mean but honestly what is there to say?? They’re trying but neither of them like to share personal information so it’s rough

On the subject of sharing, she just… genuinely doesn’t like to open up. Like, it doesn’t come naturally and in her mind it’s just… nobody else’s business what she’s feeling/what’s going on in her life

Genuinely does not realize that people care about her unless they openly tell her lmao... sad hours but at this point in the story she honestly doesnt think that any of UB cares abt her beyond their job besides the one she's dating :(

"Everyone should be allowed to feel things and rely on the support of the people around them, their emotions are Valid. not me though, this is my personal problem and as such its dumb so i have to get over it alone"

Her primary love language is acts of service, she wants the people she loves to have everything they might need; she’s Soft and really just wants snuggles but also she does not want to address it out loud

Her way of asking for affection is to just... stand/sit there and occasionally glance at the person... hovers like a sad ghost until she gets a hug... literally like 🥺👉👈 sjdhdkn Clown girl

She’s sarcastic and makes a lot of snarky comments, but generally she’s pretty honest unless she doesn’t want to talk about something (in which case she’ll brush it off and deflect or change subjects) which is why it annoys her so much when people are willfully dishonest or conniving

Pretty adaptable and capable of rolling with the punches but she generally dislikes surprises and being the center of attention

genuinely she's pretty chill! and a Huge enabler of chaos as well, like unless it's specifically bothering her she's gonna let it happen and mostly she thinks it's pretty funny to watch from the sidelines

in short she's basically like a feral cat who stares suspiciously at everyone from a distance until they successfully pspspsps their way into her heart and then she would die for them <3 but if she's mad she will make direct eye contact while shoving glasses off the counter

ahdgsksg ok last one i swear she Cannot Sit Properly, always has to be some flavor of lounging or leaning or sitting twisted into a pretzel

[beebleboosuwu]

Alright.

There are a lot of conflicting emotions about having The Music Man kicking out Beetlejuice from the Winter Garden. Although I am bitter that one of my favourite musicals is being replaced in favour of money and two big names is just.. not sitting right, but I am open to everything and trying to look at everything with open eyes and an unbiased opinion.

Did Will Blum’s influence this a little? Yes.

Was the post a little unsound and unprofessional? I think so but it brought up some great points.

Yes, I agree. The fact that you are selling a name instead of a GREAT show is disrespect to the source material. Hugh Jackman is an awesome guy and his tenure as the Boy From Oz is forever embedded into Broadway his(her)story as being a stepping stone for Hugh’s career. Also you have Broadway star, Sutton Foster, another big name who, if you are a theatre lover, can’t help but fawn and scream in excitement.

We all know and love Hugh Jackman as the Wolverine/James Howlett/ Logan, that’s what people associate him as such. Fun fact he played that role from 2000-2018. Wolverine is known to be big, all muscle and raw strength, but in the theatre world we know him as a musical theatre actor. Jackman first claim to  international's fame was in 1999 when he played the leading man, Curly McLain, in the film adaptation of Oklahoma! He played the titular character Peter Allen in Boy from Oz in 2004 which he won a Tony for and Jean Valjean in the film adaptation of Les Miserables in 2012 while that wasn't the best adaptation of that musical, they did include Broadway and West End actors which was awesome! And lastly the most recent entry musical/film role was P.T Barnum in The Greatest Showman, Jackman went on tour last year singing songs from The Greatest Showman and some other songs from other musicals he previously worked in. He is an amazing vocalist, actor and dancer. His performance in Boy From Oz says as such in a review by Charles Isherwood: praising Jackman but panned the show: "Jackman is giving a vital and engaging performance in this pitifully flimsy musical almost in spite of the material he’s been handed. It’s a sad waste of an exciting talent." I’m pumped.

Sutton Foster is a Broadway actress that is well known for her two-time Tony award winning performance as Millie in Thoroughly Modern Millie. She has also roles from other shows such as: Chess, Funny Girl, Les Miserables, Anything Goes, Grease and MANY more. I knew her best as Reno Sweeney from Anything Goes, her vocals are nothing but extraordinary and her acting is nothing to sleep on, she is an excellent dancer and I cannot help to try and recreate in my bedroom when I’m alone. You can say all you want about her, but she is one of the Broadway actresses I know from the top of my head, alongside Patti LuPone, Sierra Boggess and Liza Minelli. She is also the younger sister of Hunter Foster of Little Shop of Horrors and Urinetown fame. Foster is going to be amazing as Jackman's partner in the upcoming production and honestly as a fan, I am so excited! 

They are both triple threats but.. no one knows a lot about the Music Man. It is a classic and has been around since the late 50′s.

Broadway, coming into the new decade of 2020, is becoming more MODERN. All these new musicals that have come out during this past decade might not have made it to Broadway but they are more aligned with the changing times and modern settings. Though there are musicals based on films from the 80′s that reach out to that generation and reintroduce them into that mind space they were in back in the day.

American Idiot, great musical, angsty music but has that throwback niche to that rebellious stage some, or not most, of us went through in the 2000′s.

Elf, that also starred Will Blum at one point, is fan service to those who love the holiday season and those who loved the film that came out in 2003. I haven't listened to it yet BUT I WILL EVENTUALLY.

Heathers, we all love the Heathers. Also Winona Ryder, who played Lydia Deetz in the 1988 Beetlejuice film, starred as Veronica Sawyer. Like Elf, IT BRINGS INTEREST TO THAT GENERATION SO THEY COULD BUY TICKETS TO THIS SHOW THAT WAS BASED ON A FILM THEY WATCHED AS TEENS. Also can we just forget about the horrible rendition of Candy Store done by the cast of Riverdale? That never happened. NEVER. HAPPENED.

Beetlejuice, Come From Away, Ghost, Once, Book of Mormon, Finding Neverland, Newsies, Kinky Boots, Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812, Big Fish, 21 Chump Street, Amélie, Be More Chill, Hamilton, Head Over Heels, Lazarus, School of Rock, Something Rotten!, Tuck Everlasting, Waitress, Anastasia, Hadestown, SpongeBob SquarePants, The Prom, Ain’t Too Proud, Everybody’s Talking About Jamie, Frozen, Mean Girls, Six, Summer: The Donna Summer Musical, The Lightning Thief, Jagged Little Pill, Moulin Rouge!, The Cher Show, Tina: The Tina Turner Musical, & Juliet, Mrs. Doubtfire.

These are SOME of the MANY shows that came out this decade!

Some musicals are entirely satirical so that was a niche for audiences who love the weird and messed up humour, some musicals are named after the films or shows they were based off of. So old audiences can take interest into coming to Broadway, okay I get that because again, nostalgia, some are entirely original or had little to no source material! Some are based around history, some about civil rights issues and some of them are jukebox musicals that appeal to people who like those artists.

Broadway has always been conservative and prefers to play it safe when it comes to opening a new productions and the dominant audiences have been older and more traditional. So that stereotypical Broadway show people think of is just that, the lead character getting their “want song” in, a lot of dancing, internal or external conflict that ultimately gets resolved with cheerful songs and set pieces. Although newer audiences want those boundary pushing shows so CAN get introduced to musicals like the Music Man, it means nothing if they were never introduced to the strange and unusual first. Everyone wants to advance to find that next big thing but they can’t do that when it is all safe but we did get some of them with Cats, Beetlejuice, Carrie, Matilda The Addams Family and more.

I totally get the interest of bringing back a musical that hasn’t been on Broadway for 20 years (last performance was in 2000) and it is a great way to reintroduce an old piece back into the world again, but it was at the expense of new artists making their Broadway dream a reality. The decision to evict, not close, evict Beetlejuice from the Winter Garden was a big mistake by the Schubert Organization. The Schubert Organization is one of the biggest landlord of theatres in New York, they at least own 17 Broadway theatres. Here’s the reason why they’re so successful:

They don’t keep shows that don't bring the cold hard cash. It’s show business, it has always been about the business and never about the show. As much as we could scream and shout to keep Beetlejuice in the Winter Garden all we want, it is unfortunately their decision to keep them or boot them out. We all know that productions have to be approved by a theatre organization so that production can be leant one of their many theatres, they show also had to keep up a total of sales from tickets above that number per week. As all of you know, that’s what happened with Beetlejuice. Ticket sales dried up and fell way below the amount. There was talk around the theatre community that a production of the Music Man was in the works with Hugh Jackman as the lead. So... they saw Beetlejuice as dead weight and sought out to cash in on Hugh Jackman’s name and fame.

There was a lot of problems from the show but most of their problems came from the critics. Mixed reviews was all the show got but the biggest blows came from the New York Times and Ben Brantley saying that the show never came to that same conclusion of home and belonging like other Broadway shows. This killed their ticket sales cause everyone goes through those reviews before they see a show. However that’s the thing, Beetlejuice never wanted that. The entire creative team and the cast knew that what they had was entirely unconventional, like it was their way sticking of the middle finger at the word conventional.

There's no doubt that the Music Man, Hugh Jackman, Sutton Foster and the cast and creative team will be amazing at the Winter Garden and it is highly unfortunate that the eviction of Beetlejuice was done for the sake of financial greed. I’m glad they were only evicted and not closed, the show IS still on and the public demand for the show is high. I know a lot of us hate the decision but what could you do? It’s all about the business aspect of Broadway and never the show.

Even though Beetlejuice had its problems with its opening following the Harvey Weinstein controversy, having the Music Man revival during this time of political conflict is a little awkward. Let’s trade a sexual, murderous demon for a eulogized conman.. that seems right.

I’m sure the show will be fantastic but the circumstances leading up to the opening is shady and not shining a good light for the Schubert Organization but lets not hate the actors and the creative team of the Music Man, they didn't do anything wrong. Instead, point that dislike to corporate greed, but is okay. The show is not closed and is only evicted from the theatre. Eventually they will find a new theatre on or off Broadway for everyone’s enjoyment again! Also that National Tour is coming up in Fall 2021 I believe, I personally can’t just fly to New York but I will be watching the National Tour if it does roll by where I live.

Keep safe my friends 💚🤍🖤

[soranihimawari]

day 1: shenanigans

foxes den shenanigan (1)

summary: snippets into the slice of life of being one of the few young women who interact with the inarizaki volleyball club. every member is all tough on the outside until they meet kira, yn: the one who had been neighbors with the miya twins all her life. her best friend, nakiri-chan, is convinced at least once in their life all three of them (osamu, kira, and atsumu) had loved each other. this mini series is a going to be a little reflective, a little dramatic, and overall deals with themes of growing up to learn the difference of love. 

genre: slice of life/ angsty-teen love/ rated pg-15+ for language and juxtopostional humour. 

<< |master list| >>

-------[Inarazaki High School, 11:47 a.m.]-------

“you can’t be serious,” my best friend’s voice of disbelief tells me. we were on lunch break when we decided to head to the vending machines by the gym. there were various students talking amongst themselves buzzing with excitement for the annual art festival. 

“oh, but i am,” i said. i took a deep breath when i gripped her shoulders. upon my exhale i nodded.

“b-but your class representative said your homeroom was putting together a maid cafe all because she found out you know how to bake?”

“i blame the last bake sale my cooking club did to raise funds for a new mixer. all the members of the boys’ volleyball team bought a bag of my ‘cosmic star’ cookies.“

“i see. well, it can’t be all that bad, right? if you’re going to be the one coming up with the menu and the baked treats, you don’t really have to wear the maid outfit.”

i hum in response when i place my bill into the machine. the vending machine rumbles before dropping my can of mango nectar. once she buys her drink, she and i head back to our class on the third floor; before we separate, she wishes me luck with coming up with the menu.

“so, what did you have in mind kira-chan?”

“macaroons and maybe tarts. i don’t know what kind yet though. i’ll see ya after classes are over so we can walk home together. later nakiri-san!”

***

the day of the festival approached even faster than you had thought. after many attempts at making various macaroon flavors and tart ideas that paired well with the boba-styled drinks being served, me and the other bakery/cafe volunteers were ready for business. the other students in your class were divided between servers and baristas. the girls and boys who were selected as the maids and butlers were thankfully the only ones that had to wear the full garb. since it was the day before the festival, i decided to do a sampling of the sweets i chose to make for the servers and baristas so they can help our prospective customers tomorrow with describing the menu items. my fellow classmates, the team of five standing next to me (our bakers team consisted of six), were able to try out their own treats and thanked me for showing them how to make the treats. aside from macaroons and cookies, we collectively added two parfait flavors: one was strawberry themed for our school colors and the other was themed around sunset colors.

before the meeting was adjourned, i breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing the news from our class rep up until she mentioned something about the bakery staff wearing cat ears and other nicknacks of cafe worker approved jewelry. when i got home that evening, i screamed into my pillow to relieve some excess stress over the maid cafe. 

i immediately called my neighbor and although i wasn’t expecting him to answer the phone, i felt relief wash over me when i heard his normal greeting on the other end:

“miya residence and no, atsumu isn’t the better twin.”

i chuckled at his statement. after years of living next door to them, i can only say that miya osamu was right (also, he was the first person to express the same level of joy in cooking for others). he immediately cleared his throat when he heard me laugh.

“ahem. oh, hey kira-san. what’s up?”

i am not surprised i heard a short lived scuffle in the background as well as atsumums “ack!” in the background followed by a soft thud that only chucking a pillow could have made.

“osamu? it’s me. say, do you still have the cat ear hair clips from last halloween?”

***

the festival was in full swing: streamers lined the hallways as the people visiting came to enjoy what our school had to offer. i heard from nakiri that her class voted on doing a paint by numbers mural. other classes in our year were doing their renditions of living portraits and face painting. apparently, my class along with our neighbors across the hall divided up the cafeteria to encompass both a savory restaurant booth along with our class’ maid cafe. 

i was busy with the other members of my team making sure orders were being ran on time while placing the finishing touches for the treats on the tray. even though i was allowed to wear my pistaschio green chef coat, i couldn’t get away with just wearing a macaroon earrings. to push my bangs back, i had a pair of cat ears clipped into my hair. 

“shift change kira-san!” my class rep’s voice said in an exuberant manner. she was in charge of patrolling the hallway trying to gather more guests to come into our side of the cafeteria. business was steady to say the least, but i recalled i had signed up to take over the advertising part once hers was over. 

“ok! can you give me a few minutes? i need to fix my make up real quick.”

elsewhere, the members of the inarizaki volleyball team were seen wandering around campus enjoying the festival. the twins along with suna had long sinced branched off and found nakiri’s class. 

“hey guys! come to paint?” she offered them a sponge brush and a little to-go container. 

“isn’t kira-chan supposed to be with you?” osamu asked perplexed i wasn’t near by.

“yeah, aren’t you two joined at the hip?” his brother chimed in. nakiri rolled her eyes at the blond before shaking her head. 

“oh? you didn’t hear?” nakiri asked slightly taken aback by his question.

right at that moment, nakiri pointed behind the boys toward where i was standing speaking with over festival goers who were looking at the menu for my class’ cafe. i had a smile on my face when the guests mentioned they’d absolutely stopped by for a refreshing treat. when they waved their good bye to me, i was suddenly greeted by a different family who asked what i would recommend for their five year old (while they would opt for teas, their child really wanted something sweet). after asking a few questions (are they allergic to anything? does their child prefer strawberries or oranges? etc), i pointed out our strawberry parfait as a great option for them to all share. 

“i heard one class chose to do a dessert cafe, but i didn’t think it would be a maid cafe,” rintarou stated flatly. he took the paint and the brush from nakiri before stepping inside to paint his section of the mural. on the other hand, the blond twin elbowed his brother. there was a teasing glint in his eyes. 

“kira-san looks really cute, doesn’t she ‘samu?”

nakiri caught on to how pink the gray haired twin’s cheek became when his brother teased him. for the life of him, osamu couldn’t help but wonder why his neighbor called him asking to borrow the cat ear clips the night prior and now it was all making sense. 

“shut it atsumu.”

“hmm,” nakiri hummed. she tapped her index finger on her lips in thought. “my shift is almost over for the hour, so why don’t we all go visit the cafe, yeah?”

***

“oh my god!” 

my class rep burst through the kitchen doors again when my shift was over causing me to almost drop the parfait in my hands. i had successfully placed the dessert on the tray. one of the front of house staff members gripped her shoulders to calm her down a bit. thankfully, none of the ingrients toppled over, but we did lose a cookie straw in the process.

“breathe class rep,” i saidx. i was trying really hard to not laugh at her panicked expresion. “what’s going on?”

“h-hot miya twins outside.” 

that was all i needed to hear before i pinched the bridge of my nose before cursing my best friend and her family nine generations back for slipping out my secret assignment for the festival.

seeing my neighbors through the window of the kitchen swing doors was honestly the last thing i needed today, but of course we couldn’t always win the fortune of the gods. mumbling a quick, ‘the gods are testing me again,’ caused one of the cooks to snicker. to be fair, i could live without the thought of hearing atsumu’s teasing jokes or osamu’s sass, but alas, i did not win fortune’s favor that hour. also, this was the last outfit they’d expect to see me in because half of the volleyball team had tried (keyword:tried) to get me into a maid outfit for y e a r s. that campaign stopped as soon as shinsuke became captain.

“they’re asking for you to serve them too,” the front of house manager said when he walked into the kitchen shortly thereafter. i was having a good day up until this turn of events, and although it took every fiber of my being to not kill those two, i realized i should handle this in an appropriate manner. i mentioned i’ll handle it relinquishing my duties to my second. 

when i walked outside, i noticed that not only were my twin neighbors outside, they also sent a text to their entire team asking to visit the cafe area. i calmly turn my lips upward in a saccharine smile as i approached their table. it’s the same familiar smile which caused atsumu and osamu’s blood to run cold; they knew i was pissed as soon as i let the spirit of customer service take over my body.

“welcome to the foxes’ den masters,” i greeted them with a bow. “how may i be of service?”

atsumu’s eyes bounced back and forth between me and his brother who seemed to have found the parfaits description very interesting. 

“can i order something off the menu?” atsumu asked in a teasing way. if looks could kill, i’d sent the setter back home with a killer bruise on his shoulder, yet I remember how violence is frowned upon at a festival.

seeing as i did not object to his question when i replied with, “if it is your wish master.”

“can i buy an hour of your time from ya for my dearest younger brother?”

i blinked caught off guard by his forwardness on his twin’s behalf. all of our patrons had ceased speaking to other members of their parties after hearing his proposal. where was a pillow when i needed to scream into one? all color drained from osamu’s face. nakiri looked just as shocked as i was mouthing a ‘sorry’ toward me; she gave me an encouraging smile. (it’s been four years since both of the miya siblings gifted me friendship chocolates on white day as an apology for poking fun at my wacky homemade candies. my parental figure thought it would have been nice to make some for the neighbors’ twins in middle school.) 

my smile disappeared while i pondered my answer to the setter’s eager eyes. to spare both osamu and i further embarrassment, I spoke the first thing that came to my mind:

“if that is what your brother wishes, young master, then he should ask me himself,” i said kindly.

this caught osamu’s attention real quick; his eyes snapped up at me with a curious stare. suna had his phone out obviously documenting the whole thing. i tilt my head to the side and posed my hands under my chin prentending to think before i shrugged.

“he should also know that my shift ends at five-thirty and he should meet me here if he doesn’t mind walking me home. now, if you’ll excuse me, i have to garnish table seven’s parfaits.”

the murmurs of conversations began up again once i bowed and took my leave back into the kitchen. the last thing i heard was nakiri laughing as atsumu exclaimed that they were seated at the table i mentioned and osamu claiming that he’d kill his brother for fourth time that day. 

“i’ll have you know that i could have asked her at any time right?” osamu seethed. “i don’t need you to line up dates for me.”

“yeah, yeah. you hate me, i hate you. we punch each other a little, and then you get to date kira since you’re clearly not going to do anything about this one sided love you think you two have,” atsumu said before resting his chin on his hand. suna caught what atsumu said all on the video he was recording, including nikiri’s stunned face.

“woah, back the fun bus up. seriously?!” she asked. “no wonder kira had been acting a bit more strictly with her recipes lately. look at the little drawings on the menu.”

she was quick to point out the little drawings of the chibi macaroons (“one was blueberry the other was mango orange, a silent reference to you three’s friendship,” she briefly explained) the design team made and colored.

“must be true, look at how red his cheeks are becoming & i don’t think that’s because of anger,” suna replied.

“c‘ mon, let’s go.” atsumu suggests, rising from the table. “i suddenly recall having passed by the boardwalk games section. osamu, you stay here and tell me what i should order.”

—to be continued—

[realityhelixcreates]

Needs

Chapters: One-shot Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Avengers Movies Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Loki x Reader  Characters: Loki (Marvel), Reader, Thor,  Additional Tags: Spans From Avengers-Post Endgame, Post Loki Series, Sadder Than My Usual, Not Quite What The Summary Might Seem To Promise, Kinda Angsty, Kinda Clinical In Tone? It’s Supposed To Feel More Hollow IDK Summary:   You are a new worker at the Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S. facility the day Loki shows up to steal the Tesseract. Like Agent Barton and Dr. Selvig, he decides to steal you too.

It had only been four days.

All the transfers, and patience, and working your way steadily up through the ranks of your peers. Finally making it to the proper clearance to do the one thing you had dreamed of doing, ever since you had learned of its existence: Working with the fabled Tesseract.

It hadn’t even been a week.

You’d been warned this could happen, of course. The free world had many enemies, and S.H.E.I.L.D. sometimes had to act as a barrier against them. But there were only supposed to be scientists here, and whatever Agent Barton was. Some kind of bodyguard?  The place was hidden underground even! Who could get in here? Who could know it was here?

Four days of your dream career.

The alarms blared, but only shortly, before everything except emergency power went out, leaving you in a dark hallway, carrying the coffee you were going to offer everyone as the sounds of gunfire and shouting echoed all around you.

You flattened yourself against the wall, as even those sounds ceased, leaving you encased in darkness and eerie silence. You were no combatant, and you certainly had no weapons, only the hot coffee in your hands.

The sound of footsteps reached you, and quiet voices, only one of which you didn’t recognize. A soft glow came into view, and you squinted, just barely able to make out a handful of shadows in the darkness. The footsteps stopped abruptly.

“Sir?” Someone asked. That was Barton. That might be a good sign.

“Someone is there. I can see you.” This was a voice you had never heard before, but it set off alarm bells in your head, the way a tiger’s growl would. The glow intensified, revealing Agent Barton and Doctor Selvig, and also an oddly dressed man you had never seen before. He seemed unhealthy, maybe even injured, but he was carrying an unusual object; not quite a spear and not a club either, it was bladed and socketed with a glowing crystal of some kind. The blades were bloody.

“Oh, that’s _____.” Doctor Selvig said. “She transferred here a few days ago to begin working on energy fields.”

“She’s harmless.” Agent Barton tacked on quickly.

“Is everything all right?” You asked quietly. “I heard a lot of noise just now.”

“Yes.” The strange man said, after a moments hesitation. “But only if we all leave, now.”

“Sir?” Agent Barton asked.

“You work hard, don’t you?” The strange man asked you, stepping forward. “You are a person who gives much of herself?”

You felt like you should run, but Barton was right there. You shouldn’t really be in danger. You just nodded.

“Good. Because I have many needs.” He closed the distance between you and, before you could drop the tray of coffee you had been gripping so tightly and run, he jabbed the tip of the blade gently into your chest. You froze, all thoughts of running draining away-

-After all, why run away from your best friend in the whole world? The man you adored more than anything? He needed you. And you would fulfill those needs. Every single one.

                                                                              *****

You began almost immediately, the very instant you all reached a safe place, away from the destruction in the desert. A small, cheap, roadside motel. It wasn’t really proper for accommodating a king, but he had welcomed it, for the time being.

You had filled the ice bucket and raided the vending machine for snacks. It would make a poor supper, but Loki had accepted it all with ferocious charm. He sent the other two out on their own specific orders, but you he kept close by. He needed things from you.

He allowed you to care for him freely, in whatever ways you deemed appropriate, so you gave him ice for his bruised eyes, used a cool, damp wash cloth to wipe the sweat from his face and soothe his burning skin. You were even blessed with permission to care for his hair, and massage his scalp.

Because he asked, you spoke to him about your work on energy fields, and how much you had hoped to study the Tesseract. Because he asked, you told him everything you could about yourself, your hobbies, your dreams for the future. Because he asked, you swore eternal fidelity to him. You would have no other king.

He kept you close whenever he visited the underground lab. S.H.I.E.L.D. had many enemies, and Loki didn't want you involved with any of them. He also didn't want to share. Just because you fed and pampered him, did not mean he allowed anyone else to take advantage of those services. You still expressed the occasional bit of curiosity about the Tesseract, but he usually just shushed you, in his firm way, and told you about the great things he would do for the world, once he was king.

Petty conflicts would be laid to rest, and resource hoarding would become a thing of the past. There would be no more scrambling for fortune or fame. Everyone would have an equal place under the king. Everyone would have a job, and their basic needs would be met. Everyone who could, would be trained in the defense of the planet, from any outside enemies.

He spoke also of worrying things; of shackles he needed to throw off, of his birthright, of the dangers of the universe that were closing in on your beautiful planet. Of contingency plans, and royal responsibilities.

You couldn't help but notice the underlying tone of loneliness in everything he spoke of. He never once mentioned family. Never named a friend. In everything, he was alone.

                                                                                *****

You didn't speak any German, but that was alright. You wouldn't be here long. You had only one job to do here, and it didn't involve talking to anybody.

You lounged on a bench outside the museum the men had sneaked into. Some kind of soiree was going on inside, but not for much longer.  When the doors burst open and people poured, screaming, into the streets, you leaped up and joined them, running all willy-nilly, crying out in faux terror. Loki's illusory doubles materialized all around, herding the people into a small area; only you knowing for sure that they weren't real. When his command to kneel rang out, you were the first to do so. The others followed your example, just like he had predicted they would, their confusion and fear convincing them to mirror what they saw as an outlet to safety.

It was only supposed to be a distraction, Loki had told you so. While Barton and the others escaped with the real prize, you would help Loki create a ruckus, a lure for the team of heroes Loki was so curious to test. It was just supposed to be a show of power, Loki standing tall over kneeling subjects, delivering a soothing speech...but then the old man had stood up. He spoke back defiantly and you wanted to shush him, but you could not risk your cover by speaking. Stomach churning, you watched Loki raise his scepter to the old man, fearing what was to come. Death was inevitable in any regime change, sacrifices had to be made for the greater good. You just had to remember that. Defiance couldn't be tolerated, not right now. There had to be ruthlessness now; Fairness would come later.

The blast never hit home, reflecting instead at the very last moment and striking Loki instead, bowling him over. You cried out in real fear this time, at the sight of your king thrown to the ground like that. But dutifully, you dashed away from the sudden battle, instead of towards him. You had been expressly forbidden from entering combat, instead, you escaped into the back streets and returned to the designated meeting place, to be extracted to the secondary meeting place.

Loki did not return.

This was, of course, part of the plan. He was exactly where he wanted to be now, up, up above the clouds, on one of the largest structures to ever fly. Everyone on it was at his mercy, and unfortunately, some of them would die in the mayhem he meant to unleash up there. Sacrifices had to be made. But after this, there would be peace, as Loki took over for the failed governments of the world and put an end to the pointless fighting and bottomless greed. Earth would become a respected galactic power.  Just a few sacrifices to be made.

                                                                               *****

You infiltrated the helicarrier with the rest of Loki's allies, dressed as a S.H.I.E.L.D. Operative and wearing a magical device that your king had left with Barton to give to you. It changed your appearance to that of a large, rather generic man who looked rough enough that others might give pause before tangling with. You could not wear your own face, having been labeled M.I.A., or possibly dead after the collapse of the Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S. Facility. It was alright. You didn't have any family to worry over you.

Your orders were to make your way straight to the glassy cell your king was being held in, where  he provided you the code to free him. Then he commanded you to hide behind the console.

“Thor will be coming, I know it.” He said. “Nothing must come between him and his new suite. It is my gift to him.”

You'd heard of Thor-who hadn't? No amount of cover-up had managed to keep his existence quiet. From what you had heard, there was no safe place if you were in his way. He'd go right through you without even pausing.

You huddled down behind the console with Loki, as the rapid thudding of heavy footsteps rushed towards you. The Thunder God burst into the room, shouting and rushing a false image of Loki, falling head first into his trap. So easy. Loki clearly knew the other god quite well.

The two of you left your hiding space, Loki gloating and toying with the other god while you watched the door. Thor railed at him, even managing to crack the glass.

Fearful that he would break free, you kept your gaze firmly on the door. Surely Loki could handle it.

You were so fixed on your task, that you didn't realize someone had come up behind you until he cracked you across the head, sending you into instant darkness.

                                                                                                ******

You awoke in an outlying New York suburb, in the small home of an elderly couple your king had commanded to see to your health. Your head hurt, but he assured you that nothing had been broken. He assured you that the man who hurt you had been permanently dealt with. He assured you that revenge had been taken for your pain.  

He seemed pleased. He'd dropped the Thunder God thousands of feet, torn the great helicarrier from the sky, unleashed a monster, wrought chaos!  It didn't matter that Thor survived, that the helicarrier hadn't actually crashed, that the Hulk was no longer rampaging, or even that he had lost Agent Barton in the fray; the chaos remained. His plans were coming together, and he reveled in it.

When you were fully awake, and certain that you weren't injured, he allowed you to dote on him once more, sharing a small meal, sitting in his lap and massaging his scalp. He sighed, his eyes drooping closed from the pleasure of it.

He was so beautiful, so perfect, so radiant. You would happily do anything for him.

You leaned in and pressed your lips to his, ready to offer anything.  He flinched away at the suddenness of it, but you followed the movement of his head, and within moments, he was holding you tightly, hungrily claiming you lips, your mouth, your tongue. It was all his, your everything, all his.

He lifted you effortlessly, laying your down on the bed you had just left, writhing against you while keeping claim of your mouth, and swallowing your happy whimpers until he just stopped. He drew back from your face, staring right into your eyes as you gazed up at him with adoration.

His expression changed then, as he looked down at you, and for just a few seconds he looked like a different person. Younger, more vulnerable than you had ever thought he could look. Sympathetic. Guilty.

“No.” He said finally. “I don't have to. They're coming together now, I don't have to do anything worse in order to galvanize them. This is a line I don't have to cross, a monster I don't have to become.”

He rose, retreating to the door, while you sat up in the bed.

“No, your Majesty?” you wondered.

He shook his head. “Not this day. Perhaps some other time, under better circumstances. Depending, of course, upon which of my plans bears fruit. But for now, you must stay here. Do not venture outside, not for anything but my express summons. The Jensens will take care of you until I return. Or until I don't, in which case, my orders will no longer matter.”

He left then, to make his grand takeover a reality.

Through the Jensen's radio you heard disturbing news. Holes opening in the sky, from whence poured unknown, alien beings and horrifying creations. Tremendous destruction and mayhem in the middle of the city. All defenses being easily overturned, and only a handful of people were able to hold them back at all. The Iron Man was doing what he could, the monstrous Hulk had been spotted again, only a year after the terror he rained down on Harlem, and the near legendary Captain America had somehow risen once more. Thor, God of Thunder, and a few, unknown others were all locked in battle, but the radio announcer could give few details beyond that.

And so, you stayed quietly where you were, awaiting your kings triumphant return.

It came upon you very suddenly, a breaking sensation. A cutting off, a departure, a sudden absence. Whatever it was that had cast its veil over your mind and steered your thoughts was gone, and you were alone inside your own head once again.

You hardly had time to realize what it meant, before the elderly Jensens, no longer coerced into helpfulness, ran you out of their home in fury over how they had been used.

You wandered the streets for hours after that, drawn to the city center, wraith-like in the emptiness of your thoughts, until the police picked you up. When they questioned you, you found yourself unable to lie, unable to argue, unable to do anything but obey. The things you said caused you to rapidly find yourself back in S.H.I.E.L.D custody, truthfully answering every question posed to you, faithfully following every order given to you.

It was quickly surmised that you had been altered by the influence of the scepter Loki had carried, the thing he used to control the minds of all he touched with it. That control had been broken when the Hulk had 'broken' him, so to speak, but it left its victims different than they had been. Dr. Selvig, for instance, had grown so hypersensitive, that he could no longer think hard with his clothes on, the texture of the cloth preventing him from concentrating.

As for you, you could no longer deny anyone anything. If you were ordered, or asked, or even suggested to, you automatically obeyed, to the letter. You could not say no, could not protest, could not voice displeasure. You couldn't even feel hesitant, you simply acted.

S.H.I.E.L.D kept you in yet another of their research facilities, testing and trying to find some way to return your independence, but as years passed with little success, you slipped further and further into the background. By the time the Calamity occurred, you had been shuttled away into the psyche ward, and left there, gently cared for, but no longer worth the effort to fix.

When everyone disappeared, you almost starved to death. You had long ago been told you couldn't leave by yourself.

Some surviving members of S.H.I.E.L.D finally came to the facility, in search of any living agents, and took you away with them, finding you harmless and obedient.  Over the next five years, you did everything you were told, no matter how unsavory or uplifting. Time melded together, until you almost couldn't remember that you used to be a brilliant researcher, who worked on energy fields for the enrichment of all mankind. Until you almost couldn't remember that you'd used to be anything.

S.H.I.E.L.D still provided for you, since you hadn't actually quit, and the insurance plan was amazing, so you did have a place to live, and your basic needs met, though, because of your emptiness, you had little to no social life.  Many people had difficulty understanding the depths of your delicate condition, and far too many of those who did took advantage of it.

The Return was a time of celebration, and of great confusion and upheaval. For you, it was a time of staying inside, and not talking to anyone until things got sorted out, and you could be guaranteed safety.

It was likely because of this that nobody noticed when he returned to you.

You still watched the news and used the internet, albeit with every adblocker available installed.  You knew that the people of Asgard had relocated to Earth after the terrible loss of their homeland. You knew Thor was there, but you, like everyone else, thought that Loki had died.

But he was there in your apartment one day, looking older, softer, and incredibly penitent.  

“Please don't be afraid.” He said. And so you weren't.

“Please tell me what happened.” He said. And so you did.

There were tears in his eyes by the end of it, his hands trembling with the strength of his regret. Since you were not afraid, he was able to approach and hold you tenderly.

“Let me make this up to you.” He pleaded, and you had no choice but to agree.

He took you away from your apartment-the first time in months that you had left-and he brought you to a young, red-haired woman.

“Is there anything you can do for her?” He asked, after explaining what the problem was. She seemed very put out with him, and he took her accented sarcasm with contrition, but she eventually agreed.  Then she touched your head, and you went to sleep.

                                                                                            *****

You awoke after what felt like a decade of the most refreshing sleep you'd ever had, and feeling better than you had in years. The layer of molasses that had covered your thoughts for so long seemed to have thinned; you felt sharper than ever.

Loki was there, waiting eagerly.

“How do you feel?” He asked.

“So good.” You replied. “You bastard.”

He looked taken aback.

“Tell me what happened!” You demanded. “Tell me everything!”

You knew inside that you hadn't exactly been cured. If you were ordered, you would still obey. But you could think now. You could talk back, you could refuse requests that weren't orders. You could give orders of your own.

Loki was grinning wide. You still found him beautiful.

He told you everything; about escaping with the Tesseract, and traveling far and wide, only to return and find out that, somehow, he had never left. That, while he was off adventuring, learning, healing, there was another him, still here, who had lived entirely different experiences. That version of him had apparently been defined by loss and sacrifice, to the point where he had actually died.

This Loki wasn't without understanding  of why his other self would take that direction in life. He felt terrible remorse for the things he had done, helpless to do anywhere near enough to make up for it.

“But I have thousands of years to fix what I've done. I can do so much more with my life than I can with my death.  And as for that: May I help you? I want to make this up to you. I want to make the rest of your life comfortable. Idyllic, if I can. Would you want me to do that?”

You were actually able to think about it. To contemplate refusal. You could walk away, you could tell him to never visit you again. But he owed you. He owed all of mankind a debt, and helping you was a start for all the payback he owed. So you agreed.

And he began taking care of your needs.

                                                                                *****

For someone with such a reputation for trickery and lies, Loki was as good as his word, and perhaps better. He gave you everything you requested, up to and including his affection. You knew it was fueled by his great remorse, but sometimes it felt like love. Neither of you believed yourselves to be fully capable of that emotion anymore, though he stayed with you most nights, and the friendly domesticity between you felt close enough.

You never asked for marriage, believing that it would prove ultimately false, but you lived as a couple, and allowed him to dote on you as he saw fit. That Loki had never been in a long-term relationship was clear, but he showed no frustration over the arrangement. Instead, he often thanked you for teaching him. He often expressed his fear that his efforts at reparations were not enough.

Dr. Selvig's research had been funded for years to come. Agent Barton's children would be going to college on Loki's donations. He put great effort into the continued rebuilding of downtown New York, volunteered information about advanced Asgardian technology, and the universe. He became, in general, the very image of the good king who went out among the people to commit charitable acts, but he still felt that it wasn't enough.

Even as you grew steadily older, and he saw more to your health and companionship needs, he never commented on the graying of your hair, never showed a drop of resentment. He remained gentle and steadfast until the night you had to leave.

Nestled in his arms, you knew he was watching you sleep, as he always did. You had been particularly foggy and calm today. You knew it was time.

You hadn't said anything to him about it, Loki, who looked at you with the same beautiful eyes you had seen every day since you were still young. He would have frantically done everything he could to prolong the inevitable, but you didn't want it. You had said goodnight, like you always had, let him tuck you gently into bed, and settle down beside you, just like every night. If it wasn't love, it was at least comfortable.

You gazed upon his lovely face once more, as he pressed a goodnight kiss to your forehead, and then let your eyes flutter closed for the very last time.

A short time later, you lifted yourself back out of the bed, light and airy, and for the first time in decades, completely free. Somehow, you managed to look back for just a moment before moving on entirely, to behold him tenderly embracing your empty body, begging forgiveness, and knowing, like you both had always known, that it would never be enough.

[parklevi]

yes i did write this while at the beach yes i know it’s too angsty for that setting but i am who i am. anyway here’s a link to this intro for reference.

homophobia tw, addiction tw, violence tw

IN GENERAL: he bribed someone to get money for pills threatening to expose a secret

IN DETAIL: if it’s secrets you’re after, levi has quite a few. he’s better at being honest about his life now, since he’s left behind most of the bad things he got caught up in during the first few years of college, but it’ll take some digging to get any hint of the worst one. hooked on pills he couldn’t afford unless he had the kind of prescriptions his mother sometimes was nice enough to help him obtain, levi’s done things he’s not proud of for money when he couldn’t get his hands on them through her. he learned in college his mother was good at holding grudges and considered it a reasonable punishment to cut him off from things she’d taught him herself to depend on, so yeah, sometimes it was a matter of going to the right kind of bars, where the average age of the customers was not to be dwelled on, make some nasty fetishes work in his favor rather than against him as they usually had. sometimes, someone would need an assignment done over the weekend, and lockwood is full of rich kids who are used to getting anything in exchange for the right sum of money. they’re all little extras, because for most of his first two years of college, levi’s monthly allowance came from somewhere else. turns out, nothing is as expensive as silence, and levi being quiet was of great importance to some people. the story started after his first kiss with a boy, his first moment of teen lust in a club’s toilet where he was rudely interrupted by his brother, who proceeded to beat up the boy levi had just kissed as if he intended to kill him – and maybe he did, but he was stopped before he could. there were consequences for everyone. the boy spent a long time in the hospital, recovering from severe injuries. his brother got many, many hours of community service. and levi – he was sent to fix himself for the summer. classic trip before starting college, a nice farm, a friendly pastor, a lot of therapy. (they don’t call it conversion, just reformative therapy, like that makes it better.) long story short, besides ingraining some familiar feelings of self depreciation even deeper, it didn’t do much for levi. mostly because the pastor’s son, who was supposed to be monitoring them at nights, had his own share of forbidden desires, and levi did learn a lot with him, just not quite what the pastor expected. by the start of the school year, he was released because nothing mattered more than college in his father’s eyes, and really, he’d been against the whole idea from the start. in his words, everyone had thoughts they shouldn’t, what mattered was not acting on them. it was (not) a pleasant ride home, but it gave levi some relief to know he probably wouldn’t be sent back there again as long as he kept his grades up and all that. when money became a pressing issue, and levi was tired from studying all day and having to do so much just to get something as simple as a couple of pills, the answer came easily to him. surely the darling pastor made enough money with his little business that he’d rather not have it ruined by some rumors about how he’d failed to reform his own kin. it didn’t last long because levi felt sick to his stomach after some months, but it got him enough cash he could get by for almost a whole two years, since his mother still gave him prescriptions every now and then. when the choice came to have it all exposed, it felt almost like a relief to be set free from the guilt, and to settle his forever dilemma, caught between wanting to destroy that foundation from hell and wanting to protect the only kind soul he’d met during that time. so yeah, he voted himself.

DOES ANYONE ELSE KNOW THIS SECRET?: sohee know he went to therapy, but no one knows the rest.

IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE YOUR CHARACTER HAS TO HIDE?:  there’s a lot of stories levi’s turned to funny anecdotes that have darker backgrounds he’d rather not have exposed, but hey, what doesn’t get exposed around here

[crosbys-guccifloral-crocs]

Helloooo, please can you write an imagine where Y/N and Harry were best friends at first then were a couple for almost 1 year and a half but break up and she’s now in relationship with a guy and he told her at a family dinner that he still loves her but she told him smt like “You were my real first love and love story, and I love you but I love him more. He’s the man of my life. But we can still be friends.” Something like this❤️

Warnings: not proofed. Angsty as hell, teen!harry, X factor!harry, best friend!harry.

 *** 

 Y/N and Harry shared everything: a street, toys, friends and even a birthday (Feb, 1, 1994) just as their mothers had. Given that they were also childhood best friends. Y/N and Harry had been friends for years — but then, the X Factor happened… Y/N hated those 3 words. They were the words that had changed the entire dynamic of their relationship; as both friends and as a couple. Well… as much of a “couple” as love sick 16 year olds could be. They’d dated for just over a year before he auditioned for the X Factor. They had been each other’s first everything: first kiss, first real person, first time and of course, first heartbreak. First he broke hers. It happened when news broke that he had made it past the first round of auditions.

“I made it, Y/N.” he’d said. It was totally casual and caught her by surprise. They were lying in his family’s living room in Holmes Chapel watching The Notebook with Gemma, Anne and Robin.

She shot up straight from her position on his lap.

“W-what?” She gasped.

“I made the X Factor.” He said, sitting up to pause the film.

“O-oh. That’s great! I knew you could do it, H!” She stammered hugging him close.

“We’re moving to London.” He mumbled.

“Wait… what?” She questioned.

“We’re moving to London, Y/N. as long as I’m in the competition I need to be on set, and because I’m not 18 mum and Robin need to be with me on set.” He murmured.

“Oh… well London’s only 3 hours away. I could come visit on weekends.” She quipped.

“I don’t know, love. That’s a pretty big commitment. We can’t even drive yet, and that’s a lot to expect from your parents.”

“You could just tell me you don’t want this anymore Harry. I don’t need your pathetic excuses.” She cried rushing out of the living room.

“Y/N, honey! Come back please!” Anne called out.

“BABY PLEASE!” Harry cried running barefoot down his cobblestone drive. But it was no use, she was gone.

Over the next few weeks before he left for London, H made every attempt to contact Y/N. He waited for her at her locker at school, outside of her classes, showed up at her doorstep every morning before school with his famous iced tea that she loved so much and everyday she would walk right past him as if he were some stranger passing her on the street. She’d even resorted to blocking his number on her mobile and not allowing her mother to answer their home phone when his number showed up on the caller ID.

Eventually he learned his lesson and stopped attempting to contact her. But not before he could leave a note in her locker before he left for London.

“Y/N,

I’m so sorry baby. I didn’t mean what I said the way it sounded. Please let me explain.

I love you,

H.”

——

It had been nearly 3 months since Harry had made any more attempts to contact Y/N, and she had made no attempts at all to reciprocate those attempts. But nonetheless, it still broke her heart to even think about Harry in the arms of another girl — let alone an older woman… not to mention a woman 14 years his senior! It was sickening. She tried her hardest not to pay attention to the rumours and wanted nothing more than believe they were false, but when every media outlet in the UK was reporting about the supposed relationship between “16 year old X Factor contestant Harry Styles and the host Caroline Flack, aged 30” the rumours became rather hard to ignore. But she had to see for herself, so one weekend, close to the show finale, she decided to take Anne up on one of her multiple offers to make the trip to London because “Harry was dying to see her.” She, Anne and Gemma decided to surprise Harry and meet him at Nando’s one evening to surprise him with her visit, only to see him show up hand in hand at the restaurant with her.

That’s when Y/N truly decided to let Harry go. She no longer tuned into the competition, deleted him on all social media and no longer hung-out with the friend group they shared at school. Instead she became a secluded introvert, only going from school to work.

—— 8 years later (January, 28, 2018) ——

It’s been 8 years since Harry and Y/N had physically laid eyes on one another. Not even at Robin’s wake or service. She went of course she did. He was almost as much of, if not more of a father to her than her own dad, she just sat in the back and only made her presence known to Anne and Gemma when Harry was no longer in the room. She decided to unblock his number for a short while and send him her condolences on Robin’s passing, but then she was back to ignoring him. That doesn’t mean that she’s a stranger to her ex boyfriend’s crazy success and scandalous relationships. She’s run into Anne now and again when she was out and about in Holmes Chapel visiting her mother. She also still had the occasional girl’s day in London with Gemma whenever their schedules meshed properly.

She’d moved there 6 years ago when she was 18 after being accepted to Oxford for (your choice in major). She decided to stay in town after she graduated, she received a job offer with a salary that was impossible to pass up just weeks after graduation.

Soon after she started her new job was when she met Kyle. The way they met was kind of serendipitous, if you will. She’d literally spilt her iced tea on him after they collided turning a corner on the street. They’d been inseparable ever since. He’s been her everything for the past 6 years. Which is amazing, considering she never thought she’d feel this way about another man ever again. Not after he broke her heart all those years ago. Anne and Gemma were happy for her, but would be happier if it were Harry she were still with. They liked Kyle enough though, he treated her well and that’s all they ever wanted for her.

Now, four days before their shared 24th birthday she’s sitting on the sofa in the flat she shared with Kyle trying to get Gemma off the phone.

“Gem, how many times do I need to tell you I. Don’t. Want. A. Party. 24 is no special occasion. I’m not 16, or 18 or 21. ‘M just another year older. Can’t we just go to Greece for a weekend? Just the 2 of us and the mums?” (Anne and Y/M/N). Y/N begs.

“Ugh. Fine. I guess, if that’s what you want. But are you sure you don’t want anything on your actual birthday? Y’know like dinner or summat?” Gemma questions.

“Um, no. I think Kyle’s taking me to Gordon Ramsey’s new restaurant in Chelsea that night. Think he wants it to be a surprise though. I over heard him making the reservation a few weeks back.”

“Oh yeah, I know the place. Fancy little bloke inn’he?” She giggles finding her own sense of humour rather amusing.

“Ha ha, Gem. Laugh it up. S’more than you can say H—-“ Y/N stops herself just before her friend’s brother’s name leaves her lips. “Never mind. Sorry. I didn’t mean that.” She retracts.

“No, Y/N, S’okay. I get it. Know he’s m’brother and what he did was a while back but it still makes him a wanker.” Gem agrees.

“Okay. I’ll call you in a few days to sort out the details of the trip, Gem. Talk soon.” Y/N smiles.

“Laters, baby.” Gemma laughs.

—4 days later, Birthday evening (Feb, 1, 2018) Gordon Ramsey’s restaurant.—

“Wow, Ky. This place is amazing, you shouldn’t have.” Y/N gasps as the hostess brings them to their table and informs them their server will be by shortly to take their orders.

“Course I should, love. S’not every day the girl you love turns 24.” Kyle smirks.

Just as the sommelier (wine expert) approaches their table.

“Excuse me, are you Miss. Y/L/N?” He questions.

“Um yes? What is this about?” She asks sheepishly, confused. Kyle himself seeming just as clueless.

“This is for you. Compliments of the gentleman over there at table 4. Enjoy your meal. This pairs lovely with the prime rib, if I do say so myself.” The wine master smiles as he departs from the table.

Y/N looks over Kyle’s shoulder to see the one and only Harry Styles smirking at her from across the dining room. “Happy Birthday, love” he mouths, lifting his own glass of wine in a “cheers” salute.

“If you’ll excuse me, Kyle I need to take care of something really quickly.” Y/N says, giving her date a tight lipped smile before marching over to Harry and hauling him up from the table by the cuff of his Gucci suit jacket.

“Oi, love. That’s no way to greet an old friend on his birthday is it?” Harry jabs as she continues to maneuver them out the main doors of the restaurant.

“First of all a $300 bottle of wine? Are you freaking kidding me, Harry? Second of all… s’tha’ all I am to you, an’ “old friend?” And third, how the bloody freaking ‘ell did you find me? Especially tonight of all nights?” She whisper yells as they gat far enough into the parking lot.

“One, happy birthday. I know you love that wine. He probably would’ve ordered you some cheap $50 merlot. Two, no love, yer much more to me than just and old friend. S’what I came ere to tell yeh. And three, I’m Harry freaken Styles, love. There’s nothin I can’t do. Not to mention Gordon owed me a favour after I performed at his daughter’s graduation last year. When Gem told me yer new bloke was bringing yeh ere tonight I decided to call in that favour.” Harry smiles, taking in the appearance of the girl he’s loved for the last 20 some-odd years of his life. The same one he hasn’t seen in nearly 8 years. But seeing her here, tonight looking gorgeous as ever in that tight black dress and killer Louboutins, with him?? Well that was a hell of a kick in the nads.

“Why did you really come here, Harry? Because I know it wasn’t just to give me expensive wine and say happy birthday. But if it was, happy birthday, Harry. Goodbye.” Y/N mutters, shaking her head and walking away.

“N-no, baby please! Don’t walk away. Not again.” He begs grabbing at Y/N’s wrist and pulling her into him. “Please, baby. I love you. Don’t walk away again. If you do, I don’t think I can take it.” He says, full on sobbing now and literally begging on his knees outside the busiest restaurant in the Chelsea district, not caring who sees him.

“Get up, Harry. You’re making a scene. Im not your baby anymore. I haven’t been for the last 8 years. And that was your choice. I loved you, but I love Kyle, now. I’d still like to be friends though, yeah?” Y/N says in an attempt to plaster a fake sad smile on her face and look away from Harry to wipe her own tears.

“Not Harry to you baby. ‘M anything but. What happened to H or babe or love or handsome?? Anything but Harry. That makes it too real. You know we can never be friends. We’ve been through too much.” He sobs, standing up to hug her again.

“M’sorry, H. I love Kyle and he’s inside waiting. I’m sure I’ll see you around yeah?” She says, releasing herself from his embrace and kissing his cheek before reentering the restaurant and leaving Harry out in the cold.

——

Fin?? But could definitely see this being a small series if you all like it! There are plenty of places I could go with this! xx M.

[inloveandwords]

I read a total of 14 books between June 14 & June 27 and there were so many great ones!

All of the books I mention in this video can be found and purchased on my storefront here.

  Quiet Girl in a noisy world by Debbie Tung

4 stars

This is a graphic novel that is basically a series of scenarios that will be very relatable to true introverts. I am much more of an extroverted introvert, so there were some things that I didn’t fully relate to, but I totally understood. The illustrations were adorable and I read this book within an hour. I think this book would make a great gift for your introvert friends who don’t get enough love in this noisy world.

Can I Come Over by Whitney G

4 Stars

I saw that a friend of mine on bookstagram was reading a couple of Whitney G novels and this was one of them. It definitely inspired me to pick it up since it was my birthday and her novels tend to be short and sweet – like a little treat on a day of relaxation.

This book had so many great romance tropes happening in it. First of all, the heroine, not unlike Whitney G, is a successful author of short, self-published, steamy romance novels. She joins this sort of pen pal ish service that is supposed to be strictly platonic and starts talking to this guy. At first he’s a douche, but then they work things out. Turns out he is her dad’s good friend. So there is a forbidden and age gap scenario.

I have to be honest, I didn’t love this at first. I really didn’t like the way the hero was talking to our heroine at all and I worried he wouldn’t redeem himself.

He did and I ended up really enjoying this. Whitney G does what few authors can when it comes to steamy novellas: she builds chemistry quickly and crafts a believable romance in otherwise outlandish settings. Her and Katee Robert are my two very favorite short, steamy, romance writers for that reason.

When a Scot Ties the Knot by Tessa Dare

5 Stars

I finally did it! I read a Tessa Dare novel and everyone was right. I freaking loved it.

This book is about a woman who is incredibly introverted and to avoid having to do the typical coming out in society thing, she makes up a pretend boyfriend. A Scottish soldier who, it turns out, actually exists.

He has been receiving her letters and learns all about her from them, so when he shows up unexpectedly at the house she inherited because of her fake engagement to him, she’s obviously surprised.

For those who don’t normally like historical romances, I think Tessa Dare is the perfect place to ease your way into the genre. Her heroines aren’t annoyingly innocent and naive. Her books feel modern even though they are not.

This had so many elements of a great romance: fake dating, a little bit of enemies-to-lovers, and an adorable meetcute.

I can’t wait to read more Tessa Dare!

The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta

5 Stars

This is a coming-of-age memoir about a mixed-race gay teen who eventually finds himself when he discovers drag, written in verse. Obviously I can’t personally speak for the rep in this novel, but I can tell you that it was beautifully written.

I’m a big fan of modern poetry and though I connected a little more with the poetry in The Poet X a little more, I still really liked this one. While I loved the audiobook, I have seen a few pages of the book and I wish I had it as I was reading as well.

I feel like this book is so important for young people to read, to help them see outside of their boxes – or to help them find themselves on page. To help them not feel so alone.

Cherry Magic

4 stars

My very first official manga was gifted to me by my sweet friend, @genkireader, for my birthday. There was definitely a learning curve when it came to reading this. I was messaging her on Instagram with questions like, “Wait, this book is backwards, where do I start? Do I read right to left or left to right?” It was surprisingly more difficult than I expected, but I REALLY enjoyed this book. So much so that I ended up buying a few more of her favorites.

This book was quirky and cute. It’s about a guy who has developed the power to read people’s mind through touch and he thinks it is because he’s a 30yo virgin. He ends up reading the mind of a charasmatic, good-looking guy in his office and discovers that he is attracted to him. So many adorable moments ensue, a ton of over-thinking and awkwardness, but also super sweet, swoony moments, too. I feel like this will speak to any of us who overthink every little thing when we are falling for someone. Especially when it is unexpected.

Thank you, De’Siree for this gift, it was like you gifted me a piece of yourself because I know how much you love these stories. Lovelovelovelovelove.

Rafe by Rebekah Weatherspoon

3 Stars

This is a cute romance between a buff, tattooed nanny who begins working for a savant young surgeon and mother of two girls.

This book was fine, though I didn’t see anything special about it. Maybe I gave in a little to the hype surrounding it and that was the issue, but mostly the romance was just ok. I felt like it was a little rushed, I wished there was more pining and more of a forbidden aspect to this, but it seemed like they both gave in pretty quickly.

Loving Mr. Daniels by Brittany C Cherry

5 stars

This was a super angsty, emotional story about a girl and a guy who are both dealing with terrible tragedy and find solace in each other. The first night they meet is filled with unbelievable chemistry, it’s almost too good to be true.

And it turns out to be. Because it turns out he is her high school teacher.

The heroine was held back in school because of a medical condition, so she is 19 years old and a senior. He is a young teacher, in his early twenties, so the age gap isn’t really a thing, but it doesn’t make it any less forbidden.

When they realize the situation, it’s heartbreaking because of how intense their first meeting was. A series of super angsty things happen and it’s all very intense, but in the best epic love kind of way.

I was rooting for this couple the entire time, but not only that, I loved the heroine’s relationship with her step siblings even with all that drama.

All American Boys by Jason Reynolds

5 Stars

This is a super relevant fictional story that is somewhat reminiscent of The Hating Game.

This is about a boy in the ROTC in high school who is falsely accused of stealing by a racist, hateful police officer who ends up beating him until he is unconscious which stirs protests in his town that is sick of this constantly happening.

Sound familiar?

What’s interesting about this story is how it follows the perspective both of the victim and a white boy that goes to his school who is linked to the police officer.

I was completely invested in this story, while also cautious. I was super curious about how this book would end. Would it be far too optimistic or would it be realistic?

When I finally came to the end, I very much appreciated it. It was hopeful without being naive. It left questions that we still need answers to, but it didn’t feel too unresolved that it leaves you unsettled. I almost took it as… let’s let current events tell us how this story is going to end.

The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang

5 Stars

I read this sweet, heartwarming graphic novel with my girls. They adored it from the very first night we read it before bed.

This story is about a prince who likes to wear dresses and hires, in secret, a dressmaker to make him custom dresses.

I didn’t tell them what it was about, I wanted them to discover it on their own and ask questions as they came up.

Books are an essential parenting tool for me.

The girls begged me every night to keep going. They loved the characters in this book and they were excited to see what was going to happen.

This entire book, but especially the ending was so adorable. I absolutely loved it and can’t wait to read more from this author. Especially if I can share the experience with my girls.

Addicted series books 1 & 1.5 by Krista and Becca Ritchie

5 stars and 4 stars

A lot of my friends have read and loved this series, between that and the premise, I’ve been super excited to read it.

This is about a woman who is a sex addict and her best friend she’s in a fake relationship with who is an alcoholic.

This is a super angsty, dark, gritty series so far with such a strong romance. These are extremely troubled characters who are using their relationship and each other to hide their addictions.

I found this book, ironically enough, addicting to read and I can’t wait to read on in the series.

The second book did seem to drag on a bit, I feel like it could’ve been half as long as it was, but I know it was necessary.

Take a Hint Dani Brown by Talia Hibbert

5 Stars

I am absolutely LOVING these Brown sisters books! Chloe’s book was fantastic, but I think this one might be my favorite so far.⁣

⁣

Dani is a smart, independent savvy woman who is not interested in a long term relationship. Zaf is basically the complete opposite.⁣

⁣

The two of them have not had much more than a nice rapport – he’s the security guard at the school she teaches at, until Dani gets trapped in an elevator and Zaf rescues her. This wouldn’t be a big deal if the entire rescue didn’t get caught on film and go viral.⁣

⁣

The “going viral” thing seems to be really popular lately and it’s not normally something I would gravitate towed. Honestly, I tend to prefer if romance novels just pretend that social media didn’t exist. I think it’s tricky including anything involving technology in contemporary romance novels only because things change so rapidly, it’s easy to become outdated.⁣

⁣

However, I didn’t care what this book was about, I knew I was going to read it and fully expected to love it … and I was right.⁣

⁣

As always, Talia’s steamy scenes are SO on point, but more than anything, she writes sweet heroes SO well. I adored Zaf with everything I am. I can’t handle how much I love his side job and that despite being a big guy, he’s a big softie. ⁣

⁣

And, of course, I adored Dani. I love how badass and confident and independent she is, even if it does complicate her relationships.⁣

Becoming by Michelle Obama

5 Stars

I borrowed this on a whim from my library. I’ve been reading a few nonfiction books lately and have enjoyed all that I’ve picked up.⁣

⁣

I have to admit, though, I loved this one the most.⁣

⁣

I didn’t realize Michelle’s father had MS. As soon as she mentioned his symptoms, my stomach dropped and I just KNEW it. It’s always hard for me to read about people who have Multiple Sclerosis, especially nonfiction because I’m always wondering if that will be me and when.⁣⁣

⁣

As a romance reader, I adored Michelle and Obama’s romance. I officially ship them SO hard. Watching their relationship unfold was so satisfying and adorable.⁣

⁣

I’m not a big crier while reading, but I got choked up so many times. When she talked about visiting the VA, when she talked about Sandy Hook… it wasn’t overly dramatic, but it was enough to have me covering my mouth with my hand trying not to cry.⁣

⁣

I’ve always admired this woman, but even more now than I did before learning more about her. ⁣

  Recent Reads: June 14-27 I read a total of 14 books between June 14 & June 27 and there were so many great ones!

[sticky-notes-writes]

Things I’m most familiar with!

ALWAYS BEING UPDATED

Here is a list of things I’m most familiar with and am able to write about! I have certain sections that include fandoms etc., these are just some baseline ideas that you can go off of to send in a request. A lot of these can be used for story lines and the characters are interchangeable. Meaning, you can use DIFFERENT  characters for DIFFERENT story lines, and visa versa. :) One again, if you are confused about anything feel free to send in an ask! I’ll link all of my different stuff down bellow! 

Master List

Rules

Ask/Requests

FANDOMS = Movie/T.V show based!

MCU >  ☆ Not very familiar with the comics but I do have a soft spot for Loki and Peter Parker ☆

DC Universe >  ☆ I’m a bit rusty on this BUT I can always try!! I’m most familiar with Teen Titans and The Young Justice League☆

Honobono Log > ☆ One of the shortest and most wholesome animes I’ve ever see, recommend if you haven’t seen it!!  ☆

Miraculous Ladybug >  ☆ The characters are underage therefore I won’t be doing any nsfw for any of them. UNLESS YOU ASK TO AGE THEM UP, but it still makes me feel a bit weird lol.

Kiss Him not Me >  ☆ THIS SILLY ANIME changed my life. I’ve only seen the anime and not read the manga but the characters are quite silly and shippable so I can write for them!

Hotarubi no mori e >  ☆ Literally sobbed after watching this beautiful movie, recommend if you haven’t watched it. I’ll definitely be writing about this eventually, but if you have any specific requests of some sort feel free to ask!

Attack on Titan > VERY ACTION BASED AND DRAMATIC, right up my alley!! I haven’t read the manga but I’m caught up with the ongoing season 3 arc so feel free to ask!

Your Lie in April >  ☆Another heart breaking anime, I just can’t get enough of these! The characters are great and well-written! Send in any writing ideas!

Yuri! On Ice >  ☆Classic fan service in a good way, love these characters and their chemistry! ☆

The Vampire Diaries >  ☆I’ve seen it all up to season 6, and the last episode of season 8. I’ll be honest, I’m a Stelena stan SORRY BUT STELENA STOLE MY HEART FROM THE BEGINNING!! ☆

Harry Potter >  ☆I’ve only seen the movies, sorry guys! But I’ll definitely read the books soon!! Don’t think I don’t know about the character’s history, I’ve done my research! ☆

Death Note >  ☆Classic angsty sadish anime, characters are pretty good, have a soft spot for angsty anime ☆

Sweeney Todd >  ☆OKAY SO I CAN EXPLAIN>>>> Love the deception and music of this. This honestly isn’t really something I would write about but I have a few ideas! ☆

FANDOMS = Otome(ish) Mobile/Computer Games

Mystic Messenger  >  ☆THIS GAME MESSED UP MY SLEEP SCHEDULE REALLY BAD BUT I STILL LOVE IT VERY MUCH!! I’ve played all routes and secret endings, minus V’s and Saeran’s after endings.  ☆

The Arcana >  ☆I’ve played all routes so far and know quite a lot about the characters! Biggest softie for Juian & Lucio  ☆

Ikemen Sengoku >  ☆ It really has been awhile since I’ve played this game, BUT it’s still very good may be a bit cheesy but I’m a softy. Love Nobunaga ☆

Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice > ☆ Just started playing this and WOW it’s fun, love it!! I have a soft spot for all four boys but although Victor seems a bit of an ass sometimes, he melts my heart. OH AND LUCIEN IS HELLA SMOOTH MAKES ME BLUSH!! ☆

Monster Prom >  ☆OH BOY!! So many endings, so many characters, GOSH SO MUCH! Biggest softie for Liam and Damien, hipster vampire and rebellious demon, love them both! ☆

Dangerous Fellows >  ☆OKAY APOCALYPTIC LOVE STORIES ARE PROBLEMATIC IN THE REAL WORLD BUT WHEN IT COMES TO OTOME STYLE GAMES IT’S A CLASSIC WINNER! I have a soft spot for Lawrence. ☆

FANDOMS = WebToons

Days of Hana >  ☆Caught up with the unpaid chapters cause I can’t afford to pay and read ahead. BUT LOVE THE DYNAMIC BETWEEN HANA AND HARU!! Story line wise, it’s really good and I’m in love with both the artist and writer!! ☆

Eggnoid >  ☆BEAUTIFUL ART AND STORY LINE! The ships in this are just, WOW!! I love Eggy and Ran, however there are about three boys I ship Ran with! ☆

Bastard >  ☆INTENSE!! This WebToon is realllyyy good and dramatic and gory and just--WOW! Might as well be a movie! ☆

Orange Marmalade >  ☆Another comic from the writer of Days of Hana, BEAUTIFUL ONCE AGAIN AND THE MESSAGE BEHIND THIS IS JUST INCREDIBLE!!

Dragonork >  ☆More of an action-packed comic, with a pretty good intense and plot twists.

Sithrah >  ☆ CUTE AND BITTERSWEET WEBTOON!! Action packed but sweet with some good plot twists and likeable characters.

Nothing Special >  ☆ CUTEST COUPLE EVER!! They’re so dorky and magical together, they deserve the world ☆

STORY LINE IDEAS

Beauty and the Beast >  ☆ This is a classic story line, can be used for any ship or fandom if I’m being honest. ☆

Domestic story lines = Honobono Log >  ☆ I know I added this to my fandom list BUT THE WHOLESOMENESS IN EACH 2 MINUTE EPISODE IS ADORABLE AND JUST AHHH!!!!! They’re more domestic and cute!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ☆

Will Grayson, Will Grayson Story line > This is a pretty good book. It’s more of like,,,, two characters (with the same/similar names) spontaneously meet and give each other advice and kind of become friends. It’ a good book! ☆

Coming of Age = The Perks of Being a Wallflower >  ☆ Good book and movie with a growing of age story line! The Edge of 17 is really good too☆

Sad traumatic accident >  ☆ If you’ve read If I stay or watched the movie, you’ll get the gist of the sad and traumatic car accident type of story line. Recommend reading both books!

I also really like the whole “I’m a superhero, and I like someone who isn’t a hero!” combined with another person who is working with hero A, not knowing they both know each other in real life--- like Miraculous Ladybug, really creative story line.

Romeo and Juliet >  ☆CLASSIC SAD AND DRAMATIC STAR-CROSSED LOVERS STORY LINE, I’m a softy for this kind of stuff.

The Count of Monte Cristo >  ☆ A story of revenge and wealth--- ruining people’s lives and getting back at them for what they did to you years ago never felt so good! (Okay, but the book is amazing, movie SUCKED ASS IM SORRY BUT I HATED IT!) ☆

Harrison Bergeron/2081 >  ☆ Okay so,,,, explaining this is kind of difficult BUT basically, people are being brainwashed and only SOME CHARACTER becomes aware and tries to get others to become conscious of this to only have their plans kind of go to waste--- BE CREATIVE!! (It’s on YouTube btw)   ☆

BE CREATIVE AND DON’T BE AFRAID TO ASK!!! I may have left some things out!

[everlarkbirthdaydrabbles]

Hi! My birthday is April 24th and I'd love to read everlark where Peeta thinks he's lost Katniss somehow, like a misunderstanding or even some kind of accident, but everything works out in the end. Love the drama/angst, and I'm down for any rating (but let's be real, the smuttier the better bc it's my birthday lol). No infidelity please! Tytyty! You are awesome!

Happy Birthday! There is definitely some angst in this one. Thanks for having a birthday so we can all enjoy this great story! And thank you to @katnissdoesnotfollowback for writing and submitting it. She’s been a MAJOR contributor to this blog, as have many others, and we can’t thank her enough. Links to part one & part two if you haven’t read them yet. Enjoy! I know we did. 

Happy Birthday! Hope you enjoy this somewhatangsty story. Hugs and lots of love to you on your special day!

 All’s Fair - Part 3

 WARNINGS: RATED E for language, PTSD, and smut. Mostly the rating is forthe smut. SMUT I SAY!

 A/N: HR inthis instance stands for Human Remains. There’s no gore or graphic violence inthis, but there is a healthy dose of angst. Thank you @peetabreadgirl for pre-reading.

 ************************

 My boots scrape the pavement as I stop to stareup and down the parking lot aisles. I find at least four Jeep-shaped vehiclesunder black covers and sigh, drop my bag on the pavement, and search throughthe pockets for my keys. Not even my car keys, either. Customs fucked up mypacking job and I’m pretty sure they wound up back in my footlocker. I find thekeys I need underneath a half empty bottle of Gatorade and unlock my trunk,rummaging around until my fingers find the canvas ribbon on my at homekeychain. Yanking them out, I listen to the jingle of home with the distantgrowl of a C-130 spooling up its engines. The humid North Carolina air pressesdown on my lungs and I blink in the fading light.

 It’s late. I’m exhausted and hungry. And the redREMOVE BEFORE FLIGHT tag on my keys is a one-two punch to the face. Idon’t even know where he is right now. He was supposed to be home sometime lastweek, although I don’t know the exact date, but the fact that he wasn’t here tomeet me means he was delayed somewhere. Or something far worse that I am notprepared to contemplate on four hours of shitty sleep on a cramped rotatorflight and an empty stomach.

 Pocketing my car keys, I slam my footlocker shutand lock it back up, hefting my bag back on my shoulder and hauling the trunkonto its wheels to continue my solitary trek. I hit the lock button on the keyfob twice and hope my battery didn’t die while I’ve been gone. I’ve gotjumpers, but no one I feel comfortable inconveniencing. Most of the others havealready gone home. Prim couldn’t be here this time, unable to get away from medschool. Mom’s too sick to travel. Gale’s still somewhere in Fallujah, I think.At least, that’s the last place I ran into him.

Finally, my car honks back at me and I trudgethree aisles over towards the sound. Think it’s rough remembering where youparked your car after a thirty minute trip into a grocery store? Tryremembering where the fuck you parked it in a long term lot after a year longdeployment. I drop everything when I reach my Jeep. Unceremonious and messy.Fuck the Army and it’s obsession with order.

 It takes me a few tries to get the cover off mycar and folded up enough to shove it in the back. My footlocker and duffle goin next. The pack goes on the front seat since it contains my wallet, such asit is. I climb into the driver’s seat and roll back enough of the canvas sothat I’ll be able to feel the breeze. Keys in the ignition and I freeze, oncemore staring at the bright red tag.

 Peeta gave it to me right before my firstdeployment, in a black velvet box that looked like it contained a fancynecklace. Which it did. A single, luminescent pearl on a silver chain nestledunderneath a layer of padding, but on top had been this keychain. I’d laughednervously and shoved his face away from me when I saw the tag, but then he’dshown me what he’d bought for himself...a red, white, and blue double Akeychain. The emblem of the 82nd Airborne. My unit. They were meant to be asymbol. When we saw the keychains that ought to belong to each other, then we’dknow we were home.

 The C-130 must be warmed up because the tone ofit changes, softens as it faces a different direction. Turning up the taxiway,preparing for takeoff. I wonder what they’re doing tonight. Dropping bundles?Cargo? Jumpers? Or maybe they’re just making proficiency runs. Either way, Iknow Peeta’s not with them.

 “Come on baby, don’t let me down,” I mutter andcrank the engine. She starts rough but she does turn over. I throw my coveronto the passenger side floorboard, needing to feel the wind in my croppedshort hair after months of it being stifled beneath a kevlar helmet.

 As I leave the lot, I make a last minutedecision, turning towards the airfield instead of the main gate. I just want tobe sure. I’d call, but my phone’s buried in the back and I didn’t think to pullit out while I was searching for my keys. And maybe I’m not ready to face thesilence of an empty house.

 The drive is refreshing, but when I reach theairlift wing’s long term parking lot, I realize what a mistake this was. Theirsis almost as full as ours. I drive up one aisle and down the next, slowing everytime I see anything that might be silver. I find it in the fourth aisle.Peeta’s dark silver Mustang, parked next to a black Silverado, a layer ofpollen coating it, obscuring the color. I grip my steering wheel and stare atthe car for a moment. Then I force myself to leave.

 I’ll be going home to an empty house.

 The lights in town feel blindingly bright.Foreign after a year in the desert. When I tip my head back, I can barely makeout a handful of stars as they emerge into the night sky. At a red light, agroup of teens in a Tahoe with all the windows down stops next to me, laughingand singing along with their music. Once more, I’m massaging my steering wheeland trying to find my place in this world. It’s familiar and still disturbing.The lights and the colors too bright, the sounds too much like a dull roar, apounding in the skull.

 It’s when I pass a McDonald’s and my stomachgrowls painfully that I realize I’ll be going home to an empty pantry, too.There might be a can of soup or something, but nothing fresh. No one’s lived inthat house for six months and I didn’t think to ask Eddy, our neighbor’s kid,to stock the pantry for us. He was just keeping an eye on the place,maintaining the yard, and bringing in any mail. It’ll all be junk, but it’sbetter than leaving it to piss off the mail carrier.

 With a sigh, I pull into a grocery store thatlooks new, hoping they have a deli still open so I can get something alreadycooked and warm. I make it quick, though I do spend a few minutes debatingbetween macaroni or potato salad to go with my rotisserie chicken.Choices...something else that feels incongruously familiar. They’ve got abakery, too, and I add a loaf to my basket for dinner, and a couple bagels soI’ve at least got something to eat for breakfast, not caring that they’ll be alittle stale. I’ve eaten worse. I’ll come back tomorrow for a real groceryshopping trip.

 I use the self checkout lane, though, becausethe last thing I want right now is attention called to me in the form of achatty cashier or someone wanting to thank me for my service. Most of them meanwell, but sometimes it’s hard to know what to say in response. ‘You’rewelcome?’ Arrogant. ‘Thank you?’ For what exactly? Thanking mefirst? ‘Just glad to serve my country?’ Yeah, tell that to Darius andhis family… I shake myself and gather my groceries before rushing out of thestore.

 Once I’m safely back in my Jeep with nounnecessary human interactions, I breathe easier. She starts up like a dreamthis time and I drive home, only freaking out at one plastic bag as the windmakes it drift across my path. Pretty good, considering.

 “Here goes nothing,” I say and reach up to pressthe button to my garage door opener. Nothing. Car battery lasted. Remotebattery did not. Time for the car and door dance. By the time I get my Jeep inthe garage, I add grouchy to my list of feelings. My pack goes inside with meand my food. The rest can wait.

 The house is dark and smells musty. I open a fewwindows to air it out, humidity be damned, and flip on a couple lights so it’snot as depressing. Then I eat -- with a real fork, off a plate that I’ll haveto wash -- in about four minutes. Which is savoring my meal, by the way.

 Once I’ve placed my leftovers in the fridge, Iget the rest of my shit inside and in the bedroom, glaring at the neatly madebed. Starting the shower, I toss crap from my trunk until I find my phone andplug it in. Then I wait for the thing to turn back on and for the water to warmup. I’ve got one voicemail from Prim. I’ll call her after my shower.

 I leave my cams on the floor in a pile. I’llshove all of it in the washing machine later. The good thing about shampoo andsoap is that they don’t go bad, although there’s a strange crust around thecaps. I wash quickly, watching the murky water drain away sand and three daysworth of funk layered over remnants from months of half-assed showers.Normally, I’d be in a rush. Limited water and somewhere to be in five minutesmeans that when we got them, showers weren’t luxurious or even very efficient.They were just fast.

 Standing under the clear, steaming stream, I tryto relax. To enjoy the luxury. But I can only manage a few extra minutes beforeI start to feel ansty and get out. It’s silly, but once I dry off and am standingin my underwear, staring at my drawer full of pajamas, I hesitate. Instead, Iyank open one of Peeta’s drawers, finger the neatly folded cotton shirts beforefinally dragging one over my body. The shirt smells stale as well, from it’smonths untouched in storage, but as long as I don’t inhale too deeply, I cansort of pretend that it’s his arms holding me. I comb through my hair andsettle on the bed to call Prim.

 “Hey! Welcome home!”

 “Hi, Prim,” I say and smile for the first timesince stepping off the plane.

 “Oh my gosh! I can actually hear you! Nostatic!”

 “Just one of the many perks of being stateside,”I say and look around the room. Prim prattles on for several minutes aboutschool and how excited she is to see me in a few days. I try to remaincheerful, but it’s not easy. All I can think about is how her life continueduninterrupted while I dodged bullets, sent a friend home in a casket, and camehome to a stale house.

 “You okay?” Prim asks, cutting into my thoughts.

 “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say automatically. “Why?”

 “I asked if you’d be bringing Peeta when youcome home in a few days and you didn’t answer.”

 “Sorry, Duck,” I say. “I spaced out. It was kindof a long flight home.”

 “I’ll bet,” she says then waits for my answer.

 “I don’t know. He was supposed to be back lastweek, but he’s not, so…”

 “I’m sure he’s okay,” Prim says and goes on tosuggest that he can always catch up to us after he gets back, but her wordsopen the gates of fears and worries that I’ve kept carefully under lock andkey.

 I maneuver awkwardly through the rest of ourconversation until I remind her how tired I am. When we hang up, I sit rigidand at war with myself. And even though I already know what's going to happen,I press Peeta's name and hold the phone to my ear.

 Straight to his voicemail, but I listen anyways.Just to hear his voice for a few seconds, something I haven't heard in sixmonths. I disconnect before the beep and power my phone down then toss it onthe nightstand to charge the rest of the way, wondering if he ever called myphone during those six months he was here and I was not, just to hear my voice.I hug a pillow to my chest before laying down. I squeeze my eyes shut and ordermy body to sleep, but as exhausted as I am, I can’t seem to relax. The sheetscarry a musty smell of their own that makes my nose wrinkle, and they feelcold.

 Four months. I haven’t seen him in four months,and even then, it was thirty seconds from a distance and a twist of luck. On atarmac in Baghdad while we were piling into the back of one plane, he waspre-flighting another. At least, I think it was him. We didn’t get a chance totalk. And I’m not even sure he saw me or knew I was there. Since his deploymentwas six months versus my year, we kept in touch better while he was stateside.Skype and e-mail, when I was lucky to stop at a base with internet. Theoccasional letter or phone call. But once he was in the desert too, all but theemails stopped. We just kept missing each other and it was more frustratingthan anything else.

 With a low growl, I shove myself off the bed,dragging the spring green duvet into the living room with me. I plop on thecouch and turn on the TV, hoping it will numb me into slumber.

 It doesn’t.

 News channels covering events I know littleabout, since I was isolated from current events at home for a year other thanthe tidbits Mom, and Prim, and Peeta while he could, would send to me in theirletters. When I stumble across war coverage on one channel, I pause, butquickly move on. I live it. I don’t need them telling me what it’s like.Besides, there’s a small part of me that’s terrified that the next breakingstory will be about a plane crash.

 The rest of the channels disappoint just asmuch. Petty squabbles on reality shows. Commercials and other fluff. It’s justlike talking to Prim only magnified. This used to be my life, I think as I turnthe TV back off and wander into the kitchen. I eat one of the bagels I’d meantfor breakfast just to have something normal to do.

 When I finally shove myself back into bed, it’swith little hope of sleeping. Still, I try, and I must succeed because I seethings, some of them real, others more difficult to pinpoint. Sergeant Chaffyelling over the pop of gunfire. A woman racing into the streets to enfold herchild into the black billows of her dress before collapsing and crying over hisbody. Peeta’s smile. The ringing in my ears when a grenade went off close by,drowning out the shouts and gunfire that followed. A door kicked in beneath atan boot. Darius laughing the second before the IED went off. A fireball and atower of smoke against an azure sky, the twisted wreckage of a plane’s tail.

 I gasp and wake up, sweating and trembling.Slowly, I manage to get ahold of my breathing and stand, walking slowly to thebathroom to splash water on my face in the dark. I gulp down a few handfuls andthen return to bed, stripping the duvet off first and using only the sheet.Staring at the ceiling as I wait for morning or sleep, whichever arrives first.I can’t tell which one it is, drifting in and out of dreams. Even when I see myroom, there’s Gale, detailing a strategy for clearing a street, his neckbandaged. My mother humming as she rocks in a rocking chair and sews. Theconstant, choking brown haze of a dust storm.

 I am a stranger in my own life.

 When I wake again, it’s late afternoon. Atleast, that’s what my clock says. The room is dark, the curtains drawn, so I’mnot sure that I’m not still asleep. I roll onto my stomach and stare throughscratchy eyes at what should be the empty space beside me. Only, there’s a bodythere, stomach down and faced away from me. My mouth goes dry and I hope it’snot a nightmare. I wouldn’t put it past my twisted brain to imagine him lyingdead beside me.

 Reaching out, I poke his ribs and he startles.It takes him a moment, but he finally turns his head to look at me, his eyesbloodshot and dark circles beneath them.

 “You look a little rough for a dream,” I tellhim and he blinks at me, confused. “And quiet, too. That’s how I know you’renot real. If you were, you’d have already said ten witty things.”

 “Too tired,” he mumbles behind a yawn.

 “You should've already been here,” I mutter, thefear of what could go wrong still clinging to me.

 “Plane broke and we had to divert to Turkey.Then we got stuck waiting for parts. I called you as soon as we had a takeofftime from Canada, but your phone was off,” he says and I shrug.

 “No one I wanted to talk to,” I tell him.

 “Ouch,” he says and I scoot closer, hoping dreamPeeta feels half as good as real Peeta. He opens his arms and I snuggle againsthis body. My subconscious has at least gotten the incredible warmth that heemits right.

 “You smell good,” I murmur and fist his shirt inmy hand.

 “I better. I just got back two hours ago andtook a shower first thing.”

 “You got naked without me,” I accuse. “Who’s incharge of this dream anyways?”

 “You were out cold when I got in. Didn't want todisturb you. How long have you been home?”

 “No idea. Tell you when I wake up.”

 “Katniss,” Peeta says softly. “You are awake.”

 I open one eye and look up at Peeta. Reachingout, I pat his cheek and he smiles.

 “You didn’t wake me!” I shout and scrambleupright in the bed and put space between us. I’m not sure if I’m more angryover the fact that he climbed into bed without waking me or that by leaving myphone off, I missed the chance to be there for him when he landed. But he justlays there, watching me with tired blue eyes.

 “I didn’t wake you,” he says softly, one handreaching for me and falling short on the bed, “because you looked so peacefuland wonderful, and all I wanted to do was to sleep next to you for a few hours.Just sleep with the knowledge that I wouldn't be alerted soon, and withouthaving to block out the sound of mortar shells.”

 “How's that working out for you?” I ask,resenting the fact that he's the one who brought it up, reminded me that hewasn't all that much safer than I was over there. He shrugs.

 “Not so well. It's so quiet here.”

 “Yeah,” I say and fold my hands in my lap as weadd to the silence. Staring at one another, neither one of us knowing what tosay, and I wonder if I will feel like an interloper in this part of my lifetoo, caught in a world I no longer understand. I search his blue eyes for somehint of the person I left a year ago. His eyes are the same color, but they'reguarded. Maybe even frightened. And defensive. I don't know how to talk to thisperson.

 “This is weird, isn't it?” I whisper. He bracesa hand on the mattress and sits up so our eyes are on the same level, but hedoesn't reach for me again.

 “Feels that way, doesn't it?” he asks.

 “Prim wanted to know if you’d be coming with menext week.”

 “Yeah. If you want me too,” he says and I nod,because what am I supposed to say to this cautious dance around each other.

 “Are you hungry?” I ask.

 “I could eat,” he says. We make our way into thekitchen and eat the rest of my chicken, salad, and bread from dinner lastnight. In silence. And we don't touch one another.

 I try to summon some sort of feeling. But I'm sotired of fighting and I know he must be too. Maybe it's too late for us.

 Two years of visits here and there while he wentthrough his training pipeline, existing on phone calls and quick weekends inwhich we tried to cram months worth of time missing each other. But there wasalways another absence looming on the horizon, and in those absences, it becamenecessary to survive alone. Without each other.

 He fought to get an assignment that somewhatmatched up with mine, requesting an airframe that others in his service oftenlook down on, shocking his superiors when he wanted and pursued a heavy insteadof a sleek shiny fighter. Requesting a base slated for closure just because itwas attached to the fort I was assigned to. Fought to line up our deploymentsso we weren't waving at one another as we swapped places. And now, each of ustwo deployments in, I wonder if we spent so much time and effort trying to betogether that we don't know how to exist together anymore.

 He flicks crumbs across his plate as we sit insilence, his foot bouncing nervously beneath the table. It's a twitch he'snever had before and I don't know what to think of it. Shouldn't we be happy?Crawling all over one another and ravenous?

 Peeta takes a deep breath and I look up to findhim already watching me. “Think I'll unpack...since I'm awake now.”

 “Okay,” I say, pushing away the guilt that Iwoke him after so little sleep when I’ve wasted almost an entire day moping inbed.

 We move around one another, returning personalitems to their places, shoving one load after another into the washing machine,wiping away the fine layer of powdered sand that’s accumulated on almosteverything. We barely speak, just two ghosts sharing a house. I'm not even sureI'd call it a home.

 “Grocery shopping?” he suggests after we'vestored our footlockers in the garage and I nod. I can't even look at him as wedress, afraid I'll find new scars or markings on his body that tell the talesof whatever horrors he lived through. And I don't feel his eyes on me either.

 “Your car or mine?” he asks softly as he doubleknots his shoes.

 “Mine,” I say automatically, and he nods butstill tucks his keys into his jeans pocket. I catch a brief glimpse of hisairborne keychain, dulled a little but still attached to his house key.

 We limit our conversation to the necessary whilewe drive to the grocery store, and while we fill our cart. At one point, herests a palm on the small of my back as he leans around me to grab a box ofcrackers while I read a label and try not to fall apart at the minute touch.The heat of his hand sears through my shirt, and I lean back into it. When hemoves away, the disappointment rushes through me, swift and painful.

 He tosses the box of crackers into the cart andlooks back at me, a small and hesitant smile curving his lips up just on oneside. And I can't take it anymore, pretending like everything's normal and fineand I’m not five seconds from falling apart. I drop the saltines on the groundand fling myself at him.

 He only hesitates a second before his arms surgearound me and he buries his face in my neck, releasing a quiet shuddering noisethat might be a sob or a sigh of relief. I still shake with fears anduncertainties, my fingers digging into the back of his neck to make sure hedoesn't vanish from my arms. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips touchmy neck. And I don't care that we're in the middle of a grocery store with adozen people muttering in discontent as they have to maneuver their cartsaround us.

 “What’s happening to us, Katniss?” he whispers,and I know he’s not talking about the nightmares or the shortened tempers, butthe apathy. The need to not make a big deal out of things, not even a reunionafter an entire year apart. Or the fact that it’s easier to ignore the possibilityof hurt or death or worse because if you think about it, you’ll go mad.

 “I don’t know,” I whisper.

 “I missed you so much it physically hurts,” hesays, his arms shaking against me for a moment. I think about how many timesthese arms have been my refuge from the world. Always so warm and strong.

 “Me, too,” I admit. But we’ve opened thefloodgates and words pour forth from his lips.

 “It was bad enough being here and watching thenews. I’d go fucking crazy watching it, looking for you in the footage, hopingI’d get just a glimpse of you and dreading it at the same time. But being therewas a million times worse. Every time we got called for medevac or to moveH.R., I’d feel ill, certain that I’d be seeing your face or your name on acasket and knowing it’d be more than I could bear. Katniss, I don’t know if I’dever be happy again if I lost you.”

 My eyes burn with unshed tears. I should tellhim about my nightmares, too. RPG’s and planes shot from the sky. The wordsstick in my throat, and then someone behind us clears theirs impatiently. Iswipe at my eyes as Peeta releases me and we step apart enough to look at theintruder.

 “Excuse me. You’re blocking the shelf,” shesays, oblivious to or blatantly ignoring the obvious tears in both our eyes. Areminder that this is not the place for either of us to break down. Not with anaudience.

 “Thank you for your patience,” Peeta says toher, bending to scoop the dropped box of crackers off the floor and depositingit in our cart as we walk away. Only this time, we join hands and each use onehand to steer the cart.

 Our conversation is still somewhat stilted afterthat, and maybe it will be for awhile as we adjust back to each other’spresence, to the comfort of relative safety and the absence of the fears of thenight.  

 We pay for our groceries and I manage to get ushome without incident. As I cut off the engine, Peeta reaches out a hand tosqueeze my thigh and I look up at him while I press to shut the garage door,the remote now with a fresh battery. His thumb rubs up and down my thigh, asoothing touch along a rubbed raw nerve.

 The air around us already hangs heavy withhumidity, but under his steady gaze, it thickens until it’s almost stifling. Heleans towards me and my grip on the steering wheel tightens. Peeta haltshalfway between us, his eyes flickering down to my mouth and then away with anearly inaudible sigh. For now, I will ignore the voice in the back of my headthat insists there’s no point. One or both of us will just be heading back outthe door in six to twelve months. A seesaw of adjustment to life and thensurvival. Or maybe they’re just two different kinds of survival. But I refuseto let this wall stand between us a second longer.

 With my hands firm on the steering wheel, I moveto meet him over the gearshift and capture his lips with mine. His fingers onmy thigh clench and he brings his other hand up to hold me to him, his palmwarm on the side of my neck, his thumb tracing a path from the corner of mymouth to the edge of my jaw and back again. And I can't believe we waited thislong. I let go of the steering wheel and grip his shirt instead, yankingroughly on the fabric, needlessly because he’s not pulling back or going anywhere.

 He tilts his head and I open my mouth withouthim asking, because I need this kiss right now. Right here. The soft tremorthat shakes through me at the first touch of his tongue to mine. We are sloppyand graceless, but one kiss only makes me want more. All too soon, though,Peeta gently separates our mouths with one last suckle of my bottom lip betweenhis.

 “We should get the cold items put away beforethey all melt,” he croaks and I nod, although I’d much rather kiss him for thenext hour. Releasing my leg to open his door, Peeta kisses the tip of my noseand smiles at me.

 With each mundane task that we complete, thegaping wound between us knits together. A gradual healing. By the time we’vefinished putting our groceries away and managed to prepare and consume a meallike human beings, I’m thinking of tonight, about spooning with him in bed,less in terms of something we just do and more in terms of the comfort that itmight provide.

 When Peeta stifles a massive yawn, I suggestheading to bed, even though I’m not tired yet. He has to be beyond exhausted.Within seconds of crawling into bed, his breathing evens out and I lay in thecircle of his arms, listening to the calm sounds of spring outside our openwindow.

 Eventually, sleep takes me as well, and while Istill see things I’d rather not, they’re easier to face with Peeta’s arms warmand steady around me.

 Some time during the night, I wake to darknessand feather soft touches drifting up and down my side, beneath my shirt, aroundto my belly and up my ribs, back down and around to my side. Over my hip, thetouches dulled through the fabric of my shorts, igniting on my thighs before hereturns to my torso. For a second, I wonder if he’s even awake, but then hislips brush over my neck and I shiver. Peeta’s touches halt and I bite my lip,wanting him to continue.

 “Why’d you stop?” I finally whisper.

 “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers back.

 “I don’t mind,” I say and rest my hand over his,guiding it in the soft caresses for a moment before I tuck my hands beneath mycheek and relax into his touch as he continues unguided. Each delicate brush ofhis fingers lulls me deeper into a boneless state of bliss, reminding me ofjust how starved I’ve been for something like this, for the softness of hisloving touches. For the feel of him beside me in the darkness.

 “You know what I’m thinking about?” he whispersand kisses the back of my neck.

 “No,” I murmur, content to lay here and let himkeep doing what he’s doing.

 “I’m thinking about that quart of chocolate icecream in the freezer.” It’s not what I was expecting him to say, but my eyesjump open as the idea takes hold.

 “You have my attention,” I say and he chucklesbefore kissing my neck again. Then he’s up and tugging me off the bed. We hurryinto the kitchen, laughing as I slide across the floor in my socked feet. Peetagrabs the ice cream while I get the bowls and spoons. Within minutes, we’reseated at the table and enjoying the frozen treat.

 “Dear diary,” I say as I moan around my firstspoonful and then stare at the smeared reflection of my face in the bowl of thespoon. “It has been seven months since my last ice cream. And even then, it wasmelted by the time I got to eat it.”

 “That’s just sad,” Peeta says and grabs thecontainer, adding another scoop to mine. “You need to catch up.”

 “That’s a lot of empty calories,” I protest andhe shakes his head.

 “We’ll burn them off later,” he says, andalthough the comment could be perfectly innocent, my stomach does a strangeflip and warmth pools in my chest in spite of the freezing chocolate in mymouth.

 Peeta keeps eating, oblivious to the effect ofhis comment, and so I continue to spoon one bite after another into my mouth,savoring it like I haven’t savored anything in months. In between bites, wemanage to open a little more, share a few of the lighter tales of our timeoverseas. It’s relaxing, sitting here enjoying a midnight snack, him in hisboxer briefs and a plain white t-shirt, me in my pajama shorts and a tank top.It feels like something we could do everyday, made special in its normalcy.Eventually, though, our spoons both scrape our bowls to get the last melteddrops. I tip my bowl up and drink what the spoon can’t get.

 “Are they useful calories if they’re slurped?”Peeta asks. When I lower my bowl to scowl at him, he’s grinning, blue eyessparkling in laughter. And for just a second, I see the eyes of the boy I fellin love with in the face of the man I still can’t survive without. My bowl hitsthe table with a loud clink and I wrinkle my nose at him. He bites hislip, like he’s trying not to laugh out loud.

 “What?” I ask sharply.

 “Nothing,” he says as he gathers both our bowlsand rinses them before loading them in the dishwasher. I toss the ice creamback in the freezer and set my hands on my hips to glare at him. “It’s just,you’ve got some ice cream on your chin.”

 I swipe at my chin as unwanted heat floods mycheeks and spreads down my neck. Here I was thinking maybe our relaxing midnightsnack would help us leap the last unspoken hurdle, and I can’t even eat like anadult. Oh so sexy. But Peeta’s smile won’t be contained as he moves to stand infront of me and lifts his hand to my face.

 “You missed,” he whispers, swiping his thumbover my chin. “And you call yourself a sharp shooter.”

 His hand leaves me and his eyes still dance withmirth as he sucks the ice cream from his skin. In a flash, I am heated andrestless, unable to look away from his pink lips as they pucker around histhumb or the deep pools of blue as he watches me.

 “That was mine,” I whisper and he pauses withhis thumb still in his mouth. When he removes it, the silence of the kitchenshatters with the soft sucking noise of release.

 “Come and get it,” he breathes. We stare at oneanother for what feels like ages, the moment strung tighter than a bow ready tofire. We snap at the same time, mouths colliding and hands grasping shirts andhair.

 Peeta steps forward, forcing me back until I’msandwiched between him and the refrigerator. His mouth slants over mine againand again, ravenous and demanding. I can’t tell my moans from his as Ifrantically relearn the feel of his hair, the back of his neck, his shouldersbeneath a soft cotton shirt. The taste of his tongue and the ridges of hismouth. When his hand cups my breast and kneads it in the same rhythm as thehand massaging the back of my neck, my fingers clench, scraping my nails overhis skin. His hips thrust into me and we both moan as my stomach somersaultsfrom hungry to rapacious.

 Peeta flattens his body against mine and triesto say something that gets lost between our joined lips. His arms circle me, asteel band of support and I lift my feet to wrap my legs around his hips,trusting that he won’t drop me. With careful steps, he walks us back to thebedroom, but I refuse to stop kissing him. A year. An entire yearwithout his lips and hands on me.

 We need to catch up.

 When his knees hit the bed, our mouths joltapart and I giggle as we flop onto it, Peeta’s hands and the soft mattressbracing the fall as we bounce and he smiles at me before he resumes kissing me,our hips pressed together as we shift restlessly against one another. My feetcaress over the backs of his thighs and his hands encourage me, skimming overmy legs and grasping my ankle to wrap my leg around him again.

 I want our shirts off. I can feel the heat ofhim burning through the fabric that still separates us. I want it unfilteredand undiluted on my bare skin. But I don’t want to stop kissing him to tell himthat either, so I leave the clothes and let the need build and scratch at thehairs on his neck and the back of his head.

 After who knows how many minutes of this, hecomes up panting and tears at my shirt. Relieved, I arch my back and lift myarms so he can remove it to throw it across the room. I’m expecting him to takehis off, too, and gasp as he instead fuses our mouths together, the cotton ofhis shirt dragging over my nipples. The unexpected stimulation does wickedthings to my nerves, my legs pulling him closer in response, until the hardridge of his arousal presses into the soft folds of mine. His hips buck in myembrace, the sudden pressure sending a frisson of need all the way out to myfingertips.

 “Katniss,” he gasps as he lifts his head to transferhis mouth to my throat. Each word he speaks is kissed into my skin, lower andlower on my body. “Hold. Onto. Something,” he warns, pausing only to give eachbreast one quick, hard suck and a moan of appreciation before he moves on. “Ihave an entire year of not tasting you to make up for.” Until he reaches mypajama shorts and silently slides them and my panties down my legs, lays mebare to his gaze. I slip my hands beneath the pillow and grab hold of it whilehe stares at me.

 “Say something,” I whisper when he remains quietand still, staring between my legs beyond the point where I am still confidentin his desire for me.

 “Words aren’t enough to describe how incredibleyou are. I’ll just have to show you,” he murmurs.

 The bed bounces as he drops heavily between mylegs. With no warning or preamble, he wraps his hands beneath my thighs andholds me open, his mouth descends and he moans loudly as he suckles my folds.At first, I squirm, the sensation of being licked there distant and no longerfamiliar. But Peeta doesn’t let me hide behind shyness or uncertainty. Hismouth is on a quest, and before long, I’ve forgotten time and distance,writhing beneath the onslaught that sets my entire body aflame with need.

 I grip his hair and then mine. The sheets andthen his hair again. I watch him until I can’t, my body taking over andbanishing thought in favor of feeling as I crest and shudder, moaning gibberishinto the night.

 Instead of stopping, though, Peeta keeps going.His tongue pushing deep inside me to drink of me as I tremble and yell that Ican’t. But apparently, I can, as he sends me careening over another peak whenhe flicks his tongue over my clit then sucks it into his mouth.

 Falling limp, on the bed, I gasp for air andgroan in beautiful agony. Still, Peeta gives me no reprieve, sliding his handsover my legs until he grips my calves and pushes my knees up until they touchmy ribs.

 “Peeta, please,” I beg, unable to articulate thesearing feeling I can’t escape as his mouth continues it’s sweet torment. Hetakes it to mean that I want another, but it feels so good that each swipe ofhis tongue actually hurts. “Too much,” I finally manage to gasp.

 Undeterred, Peeta’s head shakes as though he’stelling me “no,” but the result is a streak of pleasure so acute that I screamand kick wildly, thrashing on the bed violently enough to unseat him.

 “Fuck!” I hear him exclaim, followed by a loudthud, but I am so lost in the shudders still wracking my body that I don’trealize what’s happened until the pounding of my heart calms enough for me tohear clearly again. It’s only then that I notice that Peeta’s not between mylegs any more. Not even touching me nor even on the bed.

 “Peeta?” I ask hesitantly and his laughterdrifts up to me from the floor at the foot of the bed. Gathering my wits, Ishift to the edge and peer down at him. He’s lying on his back, looking up atme with a pleased grin on his face, one hand behind his head and the otherresting leisurely on his stomach. If it weren’t for the obvious strain of hiscock against the cotton of his briefs, I’d think he was just reclining downthere to get a rest.

 “What happened?” I ask, self-consciously runninga hand through my own hair and tucking strands back behind my ears.

 “You came so hard, you kicked me off the bed,”he says, but he doesn’t seem too upset about it. He reaches up and grasps mywrist. “Come here.”

 I squeal as he tugs me over the edge and ontohis chest, but then I let go any embarrassment or doubt as he pulls me down tokiss him again. This time, it’s leisurely, allowing me a chance to recover fromwhatever the hell it is he just did to me. He reaches up and yanks the duvetdown to cover us both as he ends the kiss, his arms cuddle me to his chest andI settle my head on his shoulder. He’s still hard against me, but doesn’t seemto be in a rush to find his own relief. As it was when I woke earlier, his handtraces delicately over my skin, my back this time.

 A restless longing takes place in my breast, andeven though he seems content to take things slow, this kind of hunger won’t besated easily.  When he makes no move, I push myself off his chest and sit,straddling his hips.

 “Where’re you going?” he asks quietly.

 “Nowhere,” I tell him, but make my fingers walkdown his torso towards myself.

 His eyes jump between my hands and my face as Iwatch him for any sign that he doesn’t want this as much as I do, but when myfingers curl beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, he lifts his hips fromthe floor and pushes them down his legs. I move my hips, dragging my still wetlips over the length of his cock. With a curse, Peeta drops his hips back tothe floor, his shorts still somewhere on his legs as I take him in hand andkeep up the steady revolutions of my hips over him, sliding him through both myhand and my lips.

 “Oh fuck me, that feels like heaven,” he groans,eyes riveted to what I’m doing to him. I bite my lip and brace a hand on histhigh, and even though I just came three times on the bed, I already wantanother. Heat and blood pulse through me as I move and Peeta whines a little,his hands massaging my thighs.

 I started this to tease him, but it quickly hasme just as excited as him. I let go of his cock and instead grip his shirt,tugging on it like it’s a set of reins and the only thing keeping me frombucking wildly on top of him.

 “Katniss, please,” he begs and bites his lip,lifts his head and smacks it back on the floor in distress. “I wanna cum insideyou.”

 With a nod, I shift myself and he aligns us,releasing a string of expletives as I sink down onto him, his right leg kickingin rapid succession as he tries to hold back. Taking his face in my hands, Ibend over and kiss him as we move. Short, sweet tastes as I slide up and downhis cock. Peeta’s arms wrap around me, hold me close as he draws hearts andswirls on my back, guides my hips in riding him. I try to keep it slow, but hekneads my ass and pushes my hips so they roll over him instead of bouncing. Mybody grasps hold of the pleasure and I take it, following his lead until mylegs start to cramp and I have to straighten them alongside his, laying my bodyflat on top of him.

 When I can move again, I slide up his body andkeen into the night as he curses beneath me. It’s the best of both, taking hiscock in and out while still grinding my clit against him. I grab his chin andhold him so I can stare into his eyes, foggy with need and deeper than theocean. He whispers to me, dirty words in broken phrases.

 “I dreamt about this every night, alone in ourbed and then in my bunk. How fuckin’ sexy you are when you’re on top of me, mycock deep inside you. Jerking myself off when my balls ached with the need tocome. I’d have to bite my lips so no one would here me and blow my load in ashirt or a sock and do laundry the next day. Fuck, Katniss,” he breaks off toswallow and kiss me a moment before I push his head back to the floor because Iwant his words right now.

 “I’ve been starving for the feel of your lips anywhereon me I could get them, your legs around me, and fuck, your tits on my chest,god they feel so good there. And your pussy. I’ve needed your pussy on my cockevery day since the day you left. Fucking starving so bad for the clench ofyour walls and the smoke in your eyes as you come for me.”

 I grip his shoulder and move faster, his wordsdrawing forth a greater arousal and making the slide smooth and easy asbreathing. But it’s not enough to get me there. I whimper and tell him that Ineed more and he grips my thighs, spreading me wide over him as he bends hisknees and leverages himself on his feet to thrust up into me. He’s groaningloudly, getting close as I still lag behind him. And for some reason I think ofthe night I first mentioned the possibility of our future together. I had noidea where we’d be on this night, but I remember the tremulous way he’d offeredme an out, if I’d wanted it. How scared and brave he’d looked as he tried tohide the hurt that just the thought my leaving caused him. Then how he cededcontrol to me without question and let me fuck myself sore and hoarse on him.

 “Pull my hair, Peeta,” I urge and brace myselfto help.

 “What?” he asks with wide eyes.

 “Pull my fucking hair,” I order him and his handshifts to grip the short locks. Then I borrow the words that sent me hurtlingtowards my own orgasm all those years ago. I’ve never forgotten them. “Now takewhat you want. Your cock wants it so bad. I can feel it. Hot and pulsinginside of me.”

 He makes a strangled noise as his fingers tanglein my hair and his hand yanks on me, slamming our bodies together again andagain as pain tingles across my scalp then mellows into pleasure.

 “Stop holding back and fill me with your fuckingcum,” I demand and my muscles ache with the effort of maintaining this pace,but he shouts my name and his hips jerk erratically as his eyes squeeze shut.He stops moving, but I keep going, milking him until he grabs my ass and shovesme down onto him even as he thrusts up into me one last time. We remain there,hips suspended above the floor while he finishes with an elongated moan.

 When he relaxes, dropping us to the floor, Itake his lips with mine and kiss the shuddering breaths from his throat. Hishands flex and clench on my ass and then start my hips rolling again, andbefore I can think or prepare myself, I shatter with a soft sigh, my clitpulsing against him as warmth and wonderment floods through me.

 Peeta makes a sound of contentment in his throatas his leg spasms once more before we lay there, a mess of heavy breathing andfinally sated bodies.

 “Too long,” he groans, his voice rumbling in hischest beneath my cheek. “A year is far too fucking long to go without you.”

 “Yeah,” I agree. Then, because I am an idiot anddon’t think before I speak when I am a melted puddle spread across him, I saysomething stupid. “How long do you think we can live like this?”

 “I don’t know,” he murmurs, shifting us so thatwe’re eye to eye. “But I’m willing to work for us for the rest of my life, ifthat’s what it takes, Katniss.”

 “Me, too,” I whisper and kiss him once more toseal the promise.

[hub-pub-bub]

Macmillan Does US Distribution; Gardner Selling Foreign Rights

In Toronto, Canada’s  Wattpad today (January 24) has announced the launch of Wattpad Books, the company’s first book publishing division. Having worked steadily to build its partnerships with established publishers for years, the platform now is creating its own publishing capability that will seek to capitalize on its plethora of narrative copy.

Wattpad Books’ first list is to appear this autumn with six titles–not unfamiliar ones to those following the millions of reads logged on the platform. Ashleigh Gardner, deputy general manager at Wattpad Studios for publishing, is in charge of the new division and Deanna McFadden is managing the venture as Wattpad Studios’ publishing director.

And Gardner is losing no time on the foreign rights beat:

She’s sold Lauren Palphreyman’s French rights for Cupid’s Match to Hachette  and German rights to S. Fischer Verlgage.

And Hachette also has bought French rights for Deanna Cameron’s What Happened Last Night.

Wattpad Books, according to the company’s media messaging this morning, will be taking advantage of the same content-surfacing technology that the IT team has been using to help find specific content for partner publishers. Called “Story DNA Machine Learning” in Wattpad lingo, this is the algorithmic search capability used by such company’s as Boston’s Trajectory to sort and identify various elements of text.

To date, the company says, there are more than 565 million uploads of content on Wattpad—and while all are called “stories,” some are, of course, something far more usable than others. The company tracks readers’ responses to various uploads and regular writers to find out not only is gaining audience on the site but also what sort of international trends can be spotted, as the platform supports more than 50 languages.

Ashleigh Gardner

Gardner, as Frankfurter Buchmesse attendees know, has been selling foreign rights to various content from the Wattpad platform, and the company can now capitalize on the fact that its more-than 70 million active monthly users are in many parts of the world, spending an average of 37 minutes per session on the platform—90 percent of those users either Generation Z or Millennials and accessing the service on mobile devices.

There’s an interesting note to be made here relative to the younger age of so many of Wattpad’s followers: In publishing, cover art depicting women staring at bodies of water is a major meme, and book-business folks know that this is a cover motif that sells. The banner graphic on the new Wattpad Books home page—you can see the graphic above—is a 2019 version of exactly that motif. Apparently, no demographic is too young too stare at bodies of water.

Nevertheless, and more seriously, in her prepared statement for today’s announcement, Gardner is quoted, saying, “We bring something completely unique to publishing: an engaged global community, the most diverse set of writers on the planet, and the technology to find every type of hit imaginable.

“Wattpad Books is more than a new division for us, it’s a validation and celebration of the creativity, interests, and world-building that happens on Wattpad every day.”

The Look of Books To Come

As Gardner has said in many trade show and conference appearances, the Wattpad universe also skews heavily female, with young women accounting for 70 percent or more of the readership and writers.

This can be expected to be trigger a parade of “bad boy” and “golden boy” romantic characters, who–for all the day’s concerns about toxic masculinity and the #metoo movement–seem to be stock characters in a great swath of Wattpad readers’ affections.

Watch also for diversity-specific stories: the platform in recent seasons has developed strong, loyal communities around various elements of inclusivity and diversity issues, and writers are known to respond quickly with new material based on headlines of the day. In December, a review of the year’s content showed a substantial rise in readings of Muslim-themed stories, a reported 1.7 million minutes spent on stories tagged #MuslimRomance, #MuslimLoveStory, and #IslamicLoveStory.

Wattpad Books titles are to be available from leading retailers in North America initially. Macmillan is the sales and distribution partner for Wattpad Books in the States, while Raincoast Books will handle the account in Canada.

As frequently as readers may feel they see news from Wattpad, the actual rate of development will surprise many: To date, nearly 1,000 Wattpad stories have been turned into books and/or adapted for television, film, and digital projects in the company’s roughly 12 years in operation.

Wattpad Books’ 2019 list features six young adult titles—the bedrock of the platform’s genre basis—including fantasy, romance, and mystery.

Stories from Wattpad Books’ 2019 list have, of course, proved themselves to be eyeball magnets on the big platform, and thus Wattpad now, in choosing its books, can offer itself the same advantage it’s been offering partners in publishing and Hollywood for years: the built-in audience.

Wattpad Books’ Inaugural List for 2019

In this listing of the opening six titles from Wattpad Books, the information is supplied by the publisher, including the descriptive blurbs, which we have edited for brevity.

The QB Bad Boy & Me by Tay Marley (@tayxwriter): Dallas Bryan has her sights set on a dance scholarship to CalArts, and nothing—or no one—is going to get in the way of her plans to escape Castle Rock, Colorado until the star quarterback from the football team crashes (literally) into her life. Drayton Lahey, the bad-boy QB from football royalty, is completely wrong for Dallas—at least, that’s what she tells herself.

More than 26.3 million reads

Available August 20

Trapeze by Leigh Ansell (@leigh_): A tragic accident compels 17-year-old trapeze artist Corey Ryder to leave her aunt’s circus behind. An unlikely friendship sparks between her and local golden boy Luke Everett.

More than 2.5 million reads

Available September 10

What Happened That Night by Deanna Cameron (@LyssFrom1996): Clara Porterfield has always been in love with neighborhood golden boy Griffin Tomlin, so why did her older sister, Emily, kill him?

More than 1 million reads

Available September 17

Cupid’s Match by Lauren Palphreyman (@LEPalphreyman): In a world where everyone has their perfect match, 17-year-old Lila Black learns that not only are cupids real, but that her match is the banished god of love, Cupid himself. As arrows fly and myths become real, Cupid and Lila must resist one another or risk waking one very angry goddess.

More than 46.4 million reads

Available October 1

Saving Everest by Sky Chase (@Teenagexnightmare): High school senior Everest has it all. He’s a popular athlete from one of the wealthiest families in town. But inside, he’s suffering—both depressed and suicidal—and looking for a way out. Everest meets Beverly, a quiet, shy student open in so many ways he didn’t expect.

More than 17.2 million reads

Available October 8

I’m a Gay Wizard by V.S. Santoni (@VSSantoni): When gay angsty teen Johnny and his goth best friend trans girl Alison perform a vengeance spell against a group of bullies, they suddenly find themselves whisked away to the Marduk Institute, a school for wayward wizards.

More than 404,000 reads

Available October 29

The announcement of Wattpad Books follows the advent last November of Wattpad Next, the writer-payment system the company has been rolling out by territories to generate income and to begin supplying revenue for some of the platform’s most successful writers.

More from Publishing Perspectives on Wattpad is here.

[stevefromitreviewsgameofthrones]

Eastwatch / S7E5

Sam and Gilly The news of the Night’s King is sent to the Citadel from Bran the 3 Eyed Raven … DUDE totally believable I mean put yourself in the Maester’s shoes or sandals more likely. if some kid sent me a letter claiming to be the 3 eyed Raven (who?what?) and claimed the army of the undead are coming lead by the Night’s King, I would totally laugh my ass off. Bran is more impressive face to face when he starts telling you things that you did or were done to you in your life but sending a Raven? He’s an angsty crippled teen who Listened to old Nan’s tales too much. OK so as you would expect the old codgers ignore Bran even though Sam is pleading with them that the Night’s King is real and something needs to be done.

Flash ahead and Sam and Gilly are in a room Sam trying to study while Gilly practices reading. BIG reveal here when Gilly reads that Rhaegar annulled his marriage to Elia Martel and married somebody else name not revealed because even though the entire world knows it is Lyanna the show needs to string you along a bit more. This of course would mean Jon is not a bastard but a legitimate Heir. Sam finally is fed up and packs his scrolls we’re leaving I am tired of reading about the great feats of better men. Of course before he leaves he loots the Library. It’s a long trip he’ll need something to read.

Things to watch on them… They are headed to Winterfell with a lot of books and scrolls with ancient data they have no money or means so will be looking for a free ride or assistance. Plan on them encountering ‘Nobody’ on their quest to get to Winterfell. Also, my guess is Sam has more than info about Jon’s parents in them there books he stole. Perhaps the secret to Valeryian Steel?

Bran “lets the pigeons loose” (Count Malachi – Happy Days) ok Ravens he can control an entire flock at once and spy on everyone nice skillset he has there. He can also send them out with a message. He must be gaining tons of info now. I wonder if he can see in all the trees at one time,  as well.

Danni  I am not here to burn your cities… just you. I need the real estate. Err ok so Mad Queen? Nah frustrated one while she held back her Dragons she lost 2 major battles. So she used only one Dragon and won a major battle. Now the survivors of her Carnage are being given a choice bend the knee or die. Really she should have rephrased it to make it sound a bit better? Something along the lines “ Bend the knee and declare an Oath of Fealty to me as your Queen or be considered in Open rebellion and declared an Enemy of the Crown and will be punished As is fitting of your crimes” Historically in Westeros the punishment is death anyway but it sounds better than kneel or die. The idiot Tarly’s stand in open rebellion staring down the gullet of a monstrous Drogon so Danni hosts a BBQ for all those Kneeling. And those not suddenly kneel (except for those Tarlys) Tyrion pleads with her not to do this blah blah blah ok..

So, Mad Queen or not? Historically Kings have called for people to bend the knee or be considered an enemy of the crown in open rebellion. Which essentially means we are at war and once we have you in custody we will chop off your head. It should also be pointed out that the Tarlys are OATH BREAKERS sworn banner men of Lady Oleana and Rob had beheaded Karstark for being an Oath Breaker nobody called him the mad king. Yes she cooked them but dead is dead… Unless you are in the North then the dead rise. As Lady Oleana once said “ you are a dragon be a dragon” I’m ok with this.

SO, she heads back to Dragonstone and in a complete wtf moment Jon pets Drogon who seems to know he is a dragon.

Danni will not let this stabbed in the heart gaff by Davos go she needs to hear the story ..We then see the return of Jorah… to the friend zone!!! thanks to Jon replacing Dario poor dude cannot catch a break. Oh well continue the stabbing story another day.  They soon get Bran’s Raven s well at least one of them.  Jon must return home to save the world from the army of the dead because he is a super soldier who cannot die, just like somebody else who can’t be burned… interesting. Anywho Tyrion comes up with a better plan.. er strategy uhhm since in service of Danni how many of his plans actually succeed? Ok guess we’ll hear him out ok so we need to capture a wight because why the hell not no risk there. Bring it to Cersei because clearly, he wants to team up instead of watching his family burn.

So, Davos smuggles Tyrion in to King’s Landing to parlay with Jamie when they get there Davos ditches poor Tyrion much to his dismay and heads to flea bottom clearly looking for a “bowl of brown’ nah he’s checking up on Gendry see how the boy he set free is doing and try to recruit him for the cause, after all who doesn’t need a big strong kid in a fight or a blacksmith/armorer. Gendry of course joins him, much better than hiding under Cersei’s nose or making armor and weapons for the people who killed his dad who he never knew and all his siblings he never knew. So, he grabs his massive war hammer and off they go.

In the meantime, Tyrion meets Jamie they have words over Tyrion having killed Jamie’s father blah blah. I do think I pointed out Tyrion is likely the Mad King’s son. OK so Tyrion agrees to cease attacks they come to an agreement and off Tyrion goes.

Meanwhile down at the beach… Davos is loading the boat ready to go as soon as Tyrion gets there and 2 Gold cloaks show up Davos buys them off and all set until they recognize Tyrion.. Cue Gendry and his big hammer ok time to go before somebody else comes by since it will be tough to hide the bodies.

Back at Dragonstone the plan to capture a wight ensues. Jorah looking to be Danni’s hero and love volunteers to go, as does Jon and Gendry and off to Eastwatch. Special note there was a Ned and Robert moment when Jon and Gendry met. We’ll revisit them in a bit.. Also note Danni is staying back to protect her claim from Cersei and does not want Jon to go. She is ok with Jorah going though.

Special note on Gendry and his importance He is an Armorer trained by none other than Mitkin. Mitkin is the Armorer who Tywin had reforge Ned’s sword considered the last smith to know how to work Valeryian steel… I think Gendry knows as well. Additionally, he is Robert’s bastard and while Danni has issues with Robert she believes in not holding children to the deeds of their fathers. Expect him to be legitimized by Danni and house Baratheon to return. My prediction which we may only get eluded to at the end of next season Gendry to wed Arya and be given Storm’s End the Baratheon stronghold. That is pure prediction for next season no spoiler there.

I’ll just continue with this arc for now. Ok So Jon and his 2 travel buddies head to Eastwatch where they hook up with Tormund. We head to the cells where we find Beric, Thoros and The Hound. Gendry is not a fan of them as they sold him, Tormund does not like Jorah since his pops hunted his people. Jon please why can’t we all just get along… ok so they all group up and head out.

The Jon Snow wight co.:

Jon Snow –AKA Aegon Targaryen Bastard– King of the North – hidden Targ – true rightful heir to the Throne… Un-killable machine – fire wight – Azor Ahai – wonder if I can drum up enough titles for him to rival Danni?

Gendry – Bastard – only Heir to Storms End – swings a mighty hammer

Jorah – just happy to be here maybe he can trip Jon and get off the friend zone with Danni- son of the old Bear – If given back all lands and titles by Danni the true heir to Bear Island.

Tormund – leader of the wildlings

Beric Dondarian – king of being returned from the dead

Thoros of Myrr – returns him from the dead – red priest

Sandor “The Hound” Cleagan

And they’re off… cue the credits see more next week

As we know Jamie and Bronn got out of the water via Bronn becoming super human and dragging that metal clad idiot out of the water. Bronn is pretty much ready to bail on this whole situation.

So, time to go home lick his wounds and tell Cersei about the attack. He informs her they cannot win and points out the carnage of just one dragon imagine all 3? Cersei is still Cersei so will not back down or relinquish her crown. Jamie informs her it was Lady Oleana who killed Jeoffry not Tyrion. But Tyrion did kill their daddy so not free pass.

Later that day after Jamie meets with Tyrion, Cersei is a tad cross that Jamie went behind her back lets him know never to betray her again.. it is sound advice we all saw what she did to the sept. Anyway we discover Cersei is pregnant and will openly declare Jamie as the father. She is way off the reservation folks. But face it this kid is not going to live Maggy the frog in her fortune telling to Cersei declared she would have 3 children and they all would die. 3 up 3 down this one won’t survive birth. Cersei also pulled a Bran on Jamie she sees all and knows all.

Back in Winterfell Sansa meets all the northern lords and the lords of the Vale give little support for Jon against their complaints of his absence and so it goes. Arya confronts her and accuses her of wanting power and not supporting their brother…err cousin.

Arya decides to spy on Little Finger who also decides to lead her to something he plants for her. So, she follows him and follows until she discovers… dun dun dun The letter Sansa wrote to Rob calling Ned a traitor and demanding he come bend a knee. Clearly, He is looking to divide and conquer by creating a rift between the sisters in his personal quest for power.

Predictions

Sam and Gilly are heading to Winterfell they will need help if they are going to make it. They will look for help but find Nobody ;) Sam will also definitively discover Jon’s Legitimacy. He will meet Bran when he gets to Winterfell. Bran will tell Sam of Jon’s mother Lyanna and Sam will tell Bran she was married to Rhaegar. Bran will 3 eyed Raven away and come back and be like WTF how did I miss that?

Some of Jon’s party will die but word will get to Danni maybe from Bran, and she will head out with her Dragons to save the day, but it will cost her one gold dragon to pay for her actions.

Arya will confront Sansa and Sansa being a bit savvier than she was a long time ago will turn the tables on Little Finger who will eventually get killed by Arya

Bran will continue to mess up the world :p ok either Sam will have books detailing info on Valeryian steel or Bran will 3 eyed raven it. And Gendry will be able to forge it. If he is among the survivors.

Jon will find out who he is and sit the Iron Throne with less titles than Danni

A Wight will be shown to Cersei she will agree to team up against the Night’s King then stab everyone in the back.

The Citadel will notice they are missing some books.

By the way Danni should have the ability to excuse Sam from the Night’s Watch oath. Technically he is now Lord Samwell Tarly Lord of Horne Hill especially since he did not finish training to be a Maester.

That would mean 2 strong houses return with Fealty to Danni. Tarly and Baratheon

WHERE IS GHOST????

Gendry and Arya will be married and live in Storm’s End Arya will kick his ass every time he calls her My Lady

Sansa will become Wardeness of the North

Cersei will lose her child no chance she can have a 4th according to Maggie the Frog. Jamie will kill Cersei… ok Arya wearing Jamie’s face will kill Cersei

2 episodes left ☹

[paytonspassport]

A Freudian Trip: Day 28

This morning, Olivia and I woke up veeeeery early and got all of our stuff together to go to Budapest! We rolled up to the bus just in time, got on, and off we went! I spent a lot of the ride napping even though I was very excited. Three or so hours later, we got to Budapest and our bus driver carefully guided our bus through some way-too-narrow-for-a-bus streets until we were ultimately dropped off at the Dohány Street Synagogue which is either the second or third largest synagogue in the world. We got a tour that discussed how the building was like the cathedral of synagogues, and how it belongs to the neo-orthodox sect in Budapest. We got to go to learn a bit of the history of the Jews in Budapest, specifically a bit about how the synagogue is honoring memories and helping people to find information on and honor their family members. It was both interesting and a very powerful way of exploring a part of Hungarian history. The synagogue itself was beautiful and the little museum was nice as well, and would’ve been nicer if I wasn’t really really hungry... 

The bus picked us up from the synagogue and then took us to our hotel, Hotel Hungaria. After much drama about who would have to share a room with who if they were 4 person rooms, they all ended up being double rooms with two little twin beds side by side and all the drama in the program subsided in an instant. Olivia and I stuck together as we have worked out a pretty good understanding of one another as roommates. We threw all our stuff in our rooms, then the program head gave us an hour and a half to convert money and find lunch all on our own. In Hungary, they use Forints, not Euros. They told us that 1 Euro = 307 Forints, and we figured out $1 = 276 Forints. Needless to say, these conversions boggled our minds. 

Beyond the conversions, we had no idea what prices would be like. We all pulled out around 7000 Forints (about 25 USD) and then began our search of lunch. It was a very frustrating endeavor. The Hotel Hungaria City Center was a very safe hotel but felt like it was in a weird area. Olivia and I had ventured out with two other girls, Charis and Ellie, but after only finding a place that would be a buffet for 4000~ Forints (about 14 USD, which we decided was a bit much) we parted ways because they caved and decided to go back to the Burger King we passed on the way in. Olivia and I ran into another herd of discouraged IES students, and followed them a bit, pausing while I ducked into a bakery for a little pizza roll thing that cost less than a dollar because I was in no way going any further without some sort of food. We ran into the group again at one of the many many “Doner Kebab” stands we see in Vienna, and now in Budapest. It was hot food that was readily available and the price was cheap. We ravenously ate falafel sandwiches and sandwiches with the shwarma-like meat on the sidewalk before I dragged Olivia to the nearby Aldi so I could buy snacks, swearing to never get that hungry ever again ever. 

After lunch, we all got back on our bus, now with a local Hungarian tour guide named Adam who took us on a walking/bus tour of Budapest. My favorite things I learned were 1) that Budapest used to be two cities, Buda and Pest and then they just smacked ‘em together and called them “Budapest.” It’s so simple and I love it. Also, tell me Buda and Pest (with that little “sh” sound on the s so it’s not straight up ‘pest’) wouldn’t make great cat names. Just sayin’. 2) I learned that the Hungarian people are a greatly sarcastic and self-depricating people. It’s like a whole country of angsty teens, but like the funny ones on the Internet that are very relatable. Our guide kept making jokes about how Hungary never won anything ever and was ALWAYS on the wrong side. He warned that, in the event of the (impending????) WWIII, choose the side that Hungary *isn’t* on and you’ll be good to go. He also peppered his tour with many digs at Vienna and Austria. Although it was the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Vienna totally had priority. Since the Hapsburgs lived in Vienna, it had to be the best. Sure, Budapest could have a state opera house, IF it’s smaller and uglier. Mostly, all the nice stuff in Budapest was built to entertain Sisi, the much-beloved wife of Franz Josef. 

Beyond learning that we were in a weird country full of angsty teens with an identity struggle and some resentment issues, we went to the Citadel (fortress on a hill atop the city) for some stunning views of Budapest and to see the Soviet soldier monument there. 

We learned yet another hilarious story about the Soviets after WWII, much like the Russian soldier monument in Vienna I ride by every day on my way to school, the Soviets had a sense of humor about their representation in Budapest too. During the Soviet occupation, the Soviets put up a lot of monuments to celebrate when they liberated Hungary (ya know, before occupying it again?) and after Hungary became its own thing again, they allowed their previous occupy-ers to chose one monument to leave up. Instead of choosing the one we saw (which overlooks everything and can be seen from great distances) they chose a single soldier monument that stares down the US Embassy, ya know, just to remind them who succeeded in liberating (then reoccupying??) Hungary. The Hungarians sorta changed the definition of the monument at the Citadel and called it good. (I was trying my best to remember everything, please never use my blog posts as a history lesson, also I never took AP Euro so my European history knowledge is severely lacking at best. In my defense, none of it seems to really be sensible anyways). 

We bussed around a little more, driving by the Mambo “gentleman’s club” on our way down the Citadel. It used to be run by the Hungarian secret service which was just very amusing. It is no longer used to obtain blackmail or share government secrets, but the signs outside will let you know it is still serving its other function. We then went to the hero’s square to learn a bit about Hungary’s history and great leaders. It seems tumultuous at best, and like our guide said, they need a little more work in defining a national identity. It was very hot out and I was still in the dark jean capris I wore to be appropriately dressed in the synagogue so some was lost on me, but it was interesting to see who the Hungarians chose to have as their “heroes” in light of their interesting and frequently-occupied political history. Before I got too hot, I did know that the pillar in the middle houses the archangel Gabriel and the 7 men on horses below are the leaders of the 7 tribes that originally came to Hungary. 

After our tour, we had about an hour at the hotel to apply more deodorant and quit sweating (hooray for AC! Living the luxury life). Then we went to dinner at the Trófea Grill, where there was an unlimited buffet for all of us to eat which was the nicest gift of all. I tried so many things (I even tried to eat my vegetables) including Hungarian beef goulash (yum!) and their sour cherry soup--which is not actually a dessert but was eaten with my dessert plate because that’s when I had a hand to carry it. It was really good, it tasted as pink as it looked but not in a sickening sweet way. It was a good tart-sweet. Also I got lots of dessert but come on people, I had to make up for the horrible rum cake incident in Semmering!

The place was also chandelier goals for the future. After dinner, I hung out in Crystal’s hotel room with her roommates Chelsea and Catie and our friend Erika. We wanted a quiet night and to get some sleep early because we have a busy day tomorrow.